CUTIE

some blue lock text posts i made instead of working on essays we ballin (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

IM FUCKING CRYING SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE THIS BOY FROM HIMSELF

rb to have a super gay 2023

reo mikage & chigiri hyoma dating hcsꔛ

ac : i apologize if its ooc huhu, and i hope you all enjoy this

ꔛ genre : fluff

ꔛ reader : female

ꔛ warnings : cursing

reo's definitely a very attached boyfriend, someone who gets jealous easily and starts thinking things the wrong way. You'd always comfort him and he'll stop spiraling due to the sound of your gentle voice.

he's a very sweet one though! he'll buy you things you like because he's filthy rich mwehehehe (ง˙∇˙)ว his love languages are physical touch and gift giving.

his petnames for you are baby and love owshi

his arms always linger around your waist, and never dares to let go. "Good morning baby, had a good rest?" ๑♥‿♥๑

his specialty is sweet talk fr !! he just whispers some sweet ass tings into your ear and he got you blushing! "I'm so lucky to have you, my love." "omg stawpp (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)"

you, him and nagi always hang out together, going to the mall, eating etc. and nagi would whine about how he's a third wheel all the time😭

"Ughhh. Reo.. how long am i gonna be a third wheel?" "Alright... shut up for now, Nagi. (ꐦ°᷄д°᷅)" and you're just laughing your ass off LMAO

he's a sucker for kisses, giving and recieving. Every morning whenever you guys wake up, you'd feel his lips, peppering kisses onto your neck sleepily with him pulling you closer.

he loves it whenever you run your fingers through his hair or massage it, he feels so relaxed whenever with you. Do what you want with his hair, pigtail it, braid it, put clips etc. He doesn't mind as long as you're happy

he's very protective, whenever some flirt comes over he starts getting all personal... "Hey, what are you doing near my girlfriend huh? Want me to slug you in the face?" "Reo baby stop,,,( ∙̆.̯∙̆)" "Hmph. (`ヘ´*)"

whenever you hug him, he smells like Jo Malone perfume with a mix of fresh lavender. You could be in his arms for a lifetime and never get tired of his scent.

god, chigiri's a gem. Imagine having such a gorgeous boyfriend that's caring and good at soccer? wooh!

he's very gentle with you, his voice, his manners.. just everything in general. He turns into mush at the sight of you.

you'd always ask him what products are good for your skin and he answers quickly.

"Hyo-chann, what skin products do you recommend?" "Hm? Oh, i recommend Ponds facewash with blah blah blah" you better take note..

his petname for you is love

he always styles your hair while looking at you, full of love. Whenever he's done styling it, you look so goddamn cute that he can't help but smile.

he always lays his head on your chest, silently hinting for you to play with his hair until he falls asleep.

he introduces you to Isagi, Bachira or just basically his teammates, so they know you're his.

he likes to pinch your cheeks and carress them, sometimes he does it at such random times that it take syou by surprise.

*squeeeeze* "Chigiriiii,," "I can't help it love, your cheeks are just so squishy and soft." "Hm.."

sometimes he teaches you some rules of soccer, and you listen intently every time.

he loves it whenever you make his hair all nice, the feeling of your fingers running through his red locks makes him feel sleepy. Do what you want, as long as you don't tug on it.

a huge sucker for hugs, he feels as if he's protecting you whenever you're in his arms.

his scent is just straight up fresh sakura blossoms from his shampoo,,, and cherries.

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© reikissu do not repost/steal any of my works and repost it on other platform/s. I do not own the characters i write for at all, Reblogs are appreciated though ♡

READING CHECKMATE IS MY DOWNFALL. time to draw and write angst izuleo 🤭

Hearbreak Anniversary with Zayne

Summary: It was your anniversary with Zayne. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Zayne Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Also I don't think any of these men would ever be the type to actually willlingly forget it. Especially Zayne. So I had to adapt the request a bit. Content Warning: injuries, panic, insecurities, self worth issues, Zayne POV

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version

Zayne’s apartment smelled like him—clean, crisp, and faintly of the eucalyptus-scented candles he kept on the shelves. You sat on the edge of his couch, smoothing the fabric of your dress down your thighs, nerves making your fingers tremble slightly. The dim light of the chandelier cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the carefully planned surprise you had for him —flowers, his favorite treats, elegant scarves, and jackets you had spent weeks picking out. The final touch was the flexible weekend getaway tickets, somewhere warm and far from the sterility of hospital walls. A place where he could finally rest.

You had gone all out for tonight. The garden-themed restaurant was supposed to be the perfect setting—a quiet, intimate place where vines curled around twinkling fairy lights, and the soft scent of fresh blooms would fill the air. And you had dressed accordingly with something elegant, something that made you feel beautiful for him. The deep navy-blue dress you wore clung to your form just right, the intricate lace details at the sleeves soft against your skin. You had taken your time getting ready, styling your hair to perfection, slipping on a pair of delicate earrings he once admired absentmindedly. A spritz of white jasmine perfume, the one he once said reminded him of spring mornings. You wanted to look like someone worthy of being by his side. You wanted to be beautiful for him, for the man who had somehow, impossibly, fallen for you.

Because, truth be told, there were times you weren’t sure you were.

you still didn’t understand how this happened—how Zayne, the prodigy, the man who could save lives with his hands and mind, had chosen you. He was brilliant, disciplined, and deeply compassionate. And you? You were just… you. Ordinary in comparison. He never made you feel small, never belittled you, but standing beside him you felt you were just lucky to be there. His world was one of brilliance, filled with extraordinary people—Lina, the fearless Deepspace Hunter; his late friend Caleb, a DAA pilot whose loss still lingered in hushed conversations; his esteemed mentors and fellow doctors who spoke in a language you could only ever grasp at the edges. Compared to them, compared to him, you felt so small.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, was supposed to be about the two of you.

You had fallen for him in the quietest of ways—through the gentle cadence of his voice, through the moments he noticed things others didn’t. How he’d pull a chair out for you before you could do it yourself, how he’d check the temperature of your tea so you wouldn’t burn your tongue, how he’d listen, really listen, to your ramblings even after a 48-hour shift. He had nestled himself into your heart without you even realizing it.

And tonight, he had insisted he wanted to be with you, even with the chaos of the hospital weighing on his shoulders.

The call came two hours before your reservation. You already knew what he was going to say the moment you saw his name flash on your screen.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Zayne’s voice was warm, familiar, but there was an edge of exhaustion to it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t make it tonight.”

Your heart sank, but you swallowed it down, forcing your voice to remain even. “It’s okay, Zayne. I know you’re busy.”

“It's been a long shift, and the surgeries…”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cancel the reservation. Take some breaks and rest, okay? You sound tired…”

“I am fine, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “I swear.”

"It’s fine, Zayne." you whispered, even if it wasn’t. “We’ll just celebrate it another day. No big deal.” Even though it felt like one at the moment.

Still, you weren’t upset. Not really. You understood. You always understood.

You hung up and exhaled slowly, pressing your palms against your lap. It wasn’t his fault. He was working back-to-back shifts, saving lives, doing what he was meant to do. And yet, you couldn’t quite keep the disappointment from settling in your chest.

You exhaled slowly, stripping away the dress you had so eagerly put on just hours ago. You slip into into one of Zayne’s oversized sweaters instead, the one that still smelled like him, the sleeves swallowing your hands. You wear leggings underneath and slip on your shoes. You took your time packing the gifts back into the car, moving slowly, as if dragging out the moment would make it hurt less. Maybe when he was finally done, you could pick him up from the hospital. At least you’d get to see him and surprise him. This was what occupied your time for the next three to four hours.

Once everything was back in the car, you plopped yourself on his plush but ergonomic couch. You scrolled through your phone while waiting, mindlessly tapping through social media, until one post stopped you cold.

Lina’s story.

A picture of her sitting across from Zayne in a small restaurant outside Akso hospital, the caption lighthearted:

When you have to drag out your doctor because he won’t follow his own advice about resting. (-_-)

Zayne looked amused in the photo, tired but still composed, his lips slightly curved in a small, rare smile. He looked… content. His gaze focused on her as if she had just said something ridiculous.

Your fingers trembled as you stared at the screen.

It was stupid. It was so stupid to feel like this. Lina was his childhood best friend. She had never given you a reason to be insecure, and yet, the sting of it hit you like a slow, creeping ache. He had time to go out for a meal with her. He had time to smile like that, even after canceling on you. You knew you were being irrational, that he had only stepped out for a quick bite in his busy shift, yet you felt betrayed.

Tears pricked at your eyes before you could stop them. You wiped them away quickly, but they kept falling, silent at first, then turning into quiet, shuddering sobs. You felt pathetic. Childish. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You knew he wasn’t. But it hurt anyway. Because you would have taken anything—just a few moments, even just a simple meal at that tiny restaurant, if it meant spending time with him today.

It hurt in a way that made your chest feel tight, made the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. The sting of it crept under your skin like a wound you hadn’t realized was open, raw and aching. The disappointment bled into something uglier, something heavier. Why, after everything, did it feel like you were always on the sidelines of his life? No, Zayne never made you feel that way. It was your own spiraling thoughts.

A loud sob choked its way out, your hands gripping the fabric of his sweater as if that would somehow ground you. You wanted to hate yourself for crying over something so petty. He was saving lives. He was exhausted. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

But it hurt.

You needed to go home. You needed to collect yourself before the ugly thoughts swallowed you whole. You stood up, tears streaming down your face, as the weight of it all seemed too much to bear. You didn’t want to sit here anymore. You didn’t want to wait. You needed to go home, to clear your head, to get away from the overwhelming sense of inadequacy.

You sniffled, grabbing your keys and heading out. The highway would be the fastest route home—less traffic, a straight shot. You rerouted, pressing your foot on the accelerator, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest. You wiped at your tears quickly, trying to focus on the road.

The road stretched out before you, a wide expanse of concrete and asphalt that felt like it would swallow you whole. The tears wouldn’t stop, and you wiped them away, trying to steady your hands on the wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you understood, that you were rational about his work. The reality of it, the empty seat next to you, the disappointment of seeing Zayne happy in a photo with someone else, it all felt too much.

And then—

Headlights. Too close. Too fast.

A car jumped the signal, trying to merge into the highway.

You slammed the breaks, the scream of tires against pavement rang in your ears.

The impact was instant. A violent, sickening jolt that sent your body forward, the seatbelt snapping against your chest, the airbag exploding in front of you. The windshield cracked, splintering into a spiderweb of broken glass. Your vision blurred, the world spinning.

Pain.

Your chest burned, lungs straining to catch a breath. Your limbs felt heavy. You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers fumbling, but it was jammed.

Fuck.

Your head lulled forward, resting against the deflated airbag. Your head was heavy, your thoughts slipping away like sand through your fingers. The distant wail of sirens reached your ears, but they felt so far away.

Your vision swam, the edges darkening.

I hope the other person is alright.

The thought barely had time to settle before everything faded into black.

ZAYNE'S POV

The fluorescent lights of the hospital buzzed faintly, casting an artificial glow over the chaos of the emergency room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the undercurrent of blood—familiar, almost routine, yet tonight it gnawed at Zayne's nerves in a way he couldn't quite shake. He hadn’t left since he stepped through those doors, yet somehow, the guilt weighing on him had nothing to do with the lives he saved today. It was you.

He was tired. God, was he tired. His body screamed for rest, his temples throbbed from the strain of back-to-back shifts, but the hospital was understaffed, and there was no room for exhaustion when lives were at stake. As a cardiologist, his expertise lay in the intricate mechanics of the human heart, but duty demanded flexibility—especially in the ER. Cardiologists weren’t meant to be dealing with blunt force trauma and lacerations, but tonight, none of that mattered. They needed doctors. He was a doctor. So, he worked.

Even through the fatigue, his mind kept drifting back to you. He could still hear your voice from the call earlier, soft and understanding despite the disappointment laced beneath it. You didn’t deserve this. You had every right to be upset, to be frustrated that he had broken his promise, yet you didn’t even complain. That hurt more than if you had yelled at him

God, he loved you. And he hated himself for testing that patience again and again.

His hand tightened around the pen he was holding. He had plans—plans to make it up to you. The necklace in his office drawer, nestled in a velvet box, had been meant for tonight. Something small, perhaps, compared to everything you did, but a token of his devotion nonetheless. He could still salvage this. Maybe he could call you later, ask if you were still awake—

His device beeped, pulling him back to the present.

MVA on the highway. ETA: 5 minutes.

Multi-vehicle accident. Paramedics on site, victims en route.

Zayne exhaled sharply, shifting into work mode. He stepped into the ER just as the first stretcher was wheeled in. The radio chatter from their comms filled the space.

"Female, mid-to-late twenties, restrained driver, T-bone collision from a vehicle that ran a red light. Airbag deployment, but impact trauma to the chest from seatbelt. BP slightly low, likely from pain response. Tachycardic at 112. GCS is 14. Possible wrist fracture, mild concussion. No signs of internal bleeding from the ultrasound, but needs further imaging to rule out any complications."

He nodded briskly, slipping into the detached, clinical efficiency that had been drilled into him for years. It was only as he stepped forward, pulling the curtain aside, that his breath caught in his throat.

His world stopped.

There, on the hospital bed, was you.

Lying on the hospital bed, your hair disheveled, your skin pale against the stark white sheets. His breath lodged in his throat, the world narrowing to a pinpoint focus on the rise and fall of your chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. There was dried blood at your temple, your lower lip swollen where you must have bitten down upon impact. The sight of the IV line in your arm, the faint bruises forming along your collarbone—he couldn’t breathe.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Dr. Zayne…" Yvonne’s voice cut in, sharp and urgent. A warning. He was frozen. This wasn't just a patient. This was you.

He blinked, his hands suddenly trembling as he reached for his gloves. Breathe. He had to focus. Had to push past the sheer, gut-wrenching fear threatening to paralyze him.

This is her. She was waiting for me. She—

"Dr. Zayne!!" Yvonne pressed, handing him the updated chart. "She needs you."

That snapped him out of it.

The moment his hands touched you, they were steady again. His voice was even as he examined you, the motions automatic, controlled. He checked your pupils, gently palpated your ribs to assess for fractures. He was a doctor. He was your doctor right now. He had to move. Focusing, he reached for his stethoscope, pressing it against your chest to listen for abnormalities. The rhythm of your heart was steady, but your breathing was just slightly labored—likely from the seatbelt trauma.

"You’re going to be fine." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

You were stable.

"Her left shoulder—check for AC joint separation," he murmured, voice steadier than he felt. "Get a CT to rule out any internal injuries. And…" He swallowed. “Get me images from the crash site.” He needed to see how bad the collison was. He had to.

The hours blurred. He monitored your scans, adjusted your IV, checked your vitals more times than necessary. Each time his eyes drifted to you; his chest ached. He had seen the accident reports—your car, your windshield shattered, the crumpled hood. And the contents scattered across the scene…

You had planned everything.

For him.

And he wasn’t there.

Zayne clenched his jaw. Flowers were scattered, crushed against the upholstery. The pastries you must have picked out for him were ruined; their boxes torn open from the force of the crash. And gifts. There were so many gifts. He hadn’t even known you had planned all this.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

You had so much waiting for him. And where had he been? At a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, eating with Lina because she forced him to take a break. He had been smiling in that photo while you were—

God.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling shakily as he sat by your bedside. He should have been with you. If he had just—

The monitor beeped steadily, a quiet reminder that you were alive.

Now, he sat beside you, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, fingers curled into his palms to keep them from shaking.

"Wake up, sweetheart." he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just wake up."

And for once, Zayne—brilliant, composed, always in control—felt utterly powerless.

The beep of the heart monitor was steady, rhythmic, but Zayne found himself gripping the edge of his chair every time you stirred, waiting for that moment when your eyes would finally open. His body was stiff from staying in the same position for hours, but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to miss it.

Then, a small shift in your breathing. A twitch of your fingers.

Zayne leaned forward just as your lashes fluttered, your eyes cracking open, only to squeeze shut again at the harsh fluorescent lights. You groaned softly, shifting against the sheets. Instinctively, you tried to sit up.

"Hey—stay put," Zayne said immediately, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you down. His touch was gentle but firm, his fingers warm even against the hospital gown. "Don’t move too much yet."

Your body resisted for a moment, muscles tensing as if you wanted to argue, but the disorientation dulled your fight. Your gaze finally settled on him, hazy with the remnants of sleep and confusion.

Then you frowned.

“…You look tired,” you murmured, your voice soft, still groggy. “How long have you been here?”

Zayne’s heart clenched so tightly it hurt. Even now, even when you were the one lying in a hospital bed, barely recovered from an accident, your first thoughts were about him.

His throat felt tight, but he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to speak. “You should look at yourself first, sweetheart.”

Your gaze flickered down, taking in the IV in your arm, the bruises along your wrist, the faint soreness that no doubt ached across your body. Zayne exhaled sharply and reached out, his fingertips tracing the side of your face before cupping your cheek fully. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin, as if grounding himself with the warmth of you. His eyes were moist, though no tears fell.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, raw in a way that stripped away every layer of his usual composure.

You parted your lips, breath hitching as if you were about to reassure him—to do what you always did, to let him off the hook, to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But he didn’t let you.

“No,” he cut in firmly, shaking his head. “Not this time. This is the one time you shouldn’t be so understanding.” His jaw clenched, something bitter twisting in his expression. “I should have been there. We should have been celebrating our relationship. End of discussion.”

Silence settled between you.

After a beat, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. “Why didn’t you demand my time?” His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret. “You had every right to.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “…I didn’t want to bother you.” Your fingers twisted into the hospital blanket, grip tightening slightly. “You’re important, Zayne. You save lives. I didn’t want to pull you away from that.”

Something in him snapped.

He let out a sharp breath, then reached for your hand, gently prying your fingers from the blanket. His grip was warm, grounding.

“Shh… And you think you’re not?” he murmured, shaking his head. “Don’t ever say that again.” His gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “You are important to me.”

"You’re important to me," he repeated, voice steady but almost desperate. "Just like my work makes demands of me, you are more than entitled to make demands of me, too."

Your eyes searched his, uncertainty flickering beneath the lingering haze of exhaustion. But Zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.

"I know I should have been there," he said again, quieter this time. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before brushing a thumb over the edge of your jaw, tilting your face slightly. “When I saw you on this bed when I entered the ER… pale, unconscious… I haven’t felt fear like that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not in all my years of doing this. Not like that."

You didn’t say anything, but your hand came up slowly, resting over his.

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.

This—this was what he almost lost.

His jaw clenched, then loosened as he exhaled. “I don’t want to ever feel it again.”

Another pause.

Zayne inhaled deeply, steadying himself. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin, as if reassuring himself that you were still here. That you were warm. That he hadn’t lost you.

“I know I say I’m sorry a lot… and it probably has lost meaning to you.” he murmured; his voice rough with emotion. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if struggling to put his feelings into something more tangible. “I should have been there. And I will be. Every step of the way until you’re fully recovered and after....”

His eyes flickered downward, scanning you like the doctor he was, but this was different. This wasn’t just clinical analysis—this was personal. "You got lucky," he admitted, exhaling through his nose. "Blunt force trauma to the ribs, a mild concussion, and a broken wrist. Some lacerations on your arm and leg, but nothing deep enough to require surgical intervention. The worst was the head trauma, but the scans came back clear. No bleeding, no swelling. That’s the only reason I’m not having a complete breakdown right now…" His fingers ghosted over your arm, careful not to apply pressure. "Nothing life-threatening or with lasting consequences. But still… you shouldn’t have had to go through that alone." His jaw tensed. "Not when you have me."

You gave him a small, tired smile at that, and something inside him twisted.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to reach into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box. He’d gone to his office to clock off for the day to be beside you when he picked it up from his drawer. The very box he wanted to give you today. The one that was supposed to be given in a far more joyful setting. This was supposed to be today. A night spent celebrating the two of you—not this. Not hospital beds and IV drips and the hollow fear that had nearly swallowed him whole.

But none of that mattered now.

What mattered was that you were here. And this… this was still yours.

His throat felt thick as he flipped it open, revealing the necklace inside—a delicate silver chain holding a white jasmine pendant, smooth and polished, its petals carved with intricate detail. And behind it, barely visible, were his initials.

His fingers trembled just slightly as he took it out.

"I was supposed to give this to you today," he admitted, voice lower now, almost guilty. "Before all of this. Before I let my own priorities get in the way of what really mattered." He glanced up at you, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable. "I don’t want you to ever think that you come second. Because you don’t. You never have."

Gently, he reached around your neck, his touch featherlight as he fastened the clasp. The cool metal of the pendant settled just above your collarbone, resting against your skin. His fingertips lingered there, just briefly.

Then he let out a slow breath, tilting your chin up just slightly with his knuckles. His mind still reeled with everything that had happened, with everything he should have done differently.

"I love you," he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no wry smirk to mask his emotions, no half-hearted deflection. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. "Even when I do a crappy job at showing it." He didn’t need you to say it back—he just needed you to know.

For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, his lips quirked, just slightly, into something softer. "And since I’m apparently on mandatory bedside duty, I hope you’re ready to be completely spoiled. I’m talking fresh coffee, extra pillows, a ridiculous number of medical advices—"

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, and Zayne felt something in his chest loosen at the sound. Then, slowly, you lifted a hand, brushing your fingertips over the pendant before reaching up to cup his cheek.

Zayne leaned into your touch instinctively, exhaling softly. He smiled, finally, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. "Yeah," he murmured. "We’ll be just fine. I've got you sweetheart... I'll always be here for you."

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom

✎Regret, love and death

Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser x g/n!reader

Summary: The bllk boys break up with you not knowing you're terminally ill and they meet you again but this time you're dying right in front of them.

Warning: Angst, no fluff, breakup and breakdown, death, grief

A/n: this is super cliche ik but this has been on my mind for months now, it's time i actually write about it. Listening to ditto while making this. I tried to make it g/n so bear with me

Itoshi Rin

"Stay in the middle, like you a little"

Itoshi Rin who left you months ago after a stupid argument he wishes he could've prevented. He tells himself that he doesn't need you anymore and that he'll never open up his heart again.

Itoshi Rin who gets mad when he sees happy couples, he swears it's anger and jealousy but it's mostly confusion and betrayal. He believed that it was your fault that he became this vulnerable but he willingly gave his heart to you.

Being a professional athlete like Itoshi Rin it's common to regularly get some injuries here and there so he visits the hospital.

He waited patiently right outside his clinic, an earbud in one ear and he listened to the environment around him. Squeaky wheelchairs, cries from a hospital room nearby and patients conversing in daily chit-chat. The line at the clinic was taking too long so he decided he'll go next time; but something caught his eye. The soles of his shoes clack on the marble floor at the empty hallway and the music he's listening to but he hears the faint beating of a heart monitor. Then, he sees your name in one hospital room.

He couldn't believe his eyes. There was a folder attached loosely on the door, your name written in lazy cursive and numerous descriptions he couldn't understand. Rereading and rereading the name on the folder over and over again, his eyes narrowed as he decided to look over to the glass window at the door; he saw you. Rin doesn't understand why you were here and why the folder was marked "terminal— confined" . The writings are too messy for him to understand but his heart beats loudly through his body like a gong.

He tries to convince himself it's probably someone else but he knew you too much to know that the one stuck in that wrinkly hospital bed was you.

He has to go, he has to but he doesn't. He takes a deep breath and opens the door. You open your eyes as you realize your peace was disturbed from the loud creaking of the door. You scrunch your nose and blink your eyes as you take a look at the figure standing at the side of your bed, it was Rin.

"You… why are you here?" He whispered, you could barely hear him but he stared down at you with pity, anger, grief— you don't know.

"I should be the one asking you that." Your voice was muffled by the oxygen mask strapped to your head as you sat yourself up and looked up to him, he tried to avoid your gaze as he looked over to the IVs inserted into your wrists, wires everywhere he was sure he almost stepped on one.

Rin furrowed his brows in irritation, all this pent up anger from the break up bursting all at once, "What the fuck happened to you?"

You gave him a weak smile, "A week before we broke up… I was diagnosed with a heart disease. I couldn't tell you what happened to me, then we fought but I was too scared and stressed I broke things off."

Rin breathes raggedly, fear and guilt flooding his senses; wondering why he was such an idiot to leave you.

"Will you get better?"

You smile again at his stupidity, you know he's seen the document attached at the door saying 'patient in hospice' but Rin wants to hear it from you, he wants you to confirm his thoughts. Maybe even deny it so he'll feel better. You feel tears drip down your arm as you watch him shaken like he's seen a ghost.

"I won't, so go now."

Rin wants to pour out all his emotions, everything welling up inside his heart— the thoughts brewing in the depths of his heart that ate him alive from the time you were seperated but he holds himself back.

His knees buckled and his strength prior to this incident dissipated into nothing as he held onto his remaining resolve. Like the coward he always was, he leaves and never comes back… but he will come back to you eventually; with a chrysanthemum in hand this time and a fresh black suit he picked out.

Itoshi Sae

"Don't want no riddle, Say it, Say it back"

Itoshi Sae who visits Japan for the first time in months, only going back to renew his passport.

It wasn't his intention to pass by your old friend group in public, he eavesdropped on their mindless conversation then they started talking about you.

Itoshi Sae listens to their conversation, getting some details about you. Hearing that you got confined somewhere and that there was no one to take care of you other than the nurses and hospice workers stationed at your room.

Itoshi Sae who tries to keep that newfound information out of his mind but the thought of you being confined in a hospital is making his heart race. Not in love nor from the butterflies he used to get when talking to you— no. He couldn't stop thinking of you. He promised to himself to never interact with you, avoid every single thing that reminded him of you but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Itoshi Sae who visits the hospital and asks where you are, pretending that he was a visitor to the nurses was easier than he thought.

"Are you asking about that patient?"

He nodded, the nurse was stupid enough to fall for his charms as she sent him the directions to your room. Sae knows what dangerous game he's playing, if he comes back to you again then it defeats the purpose of avoiding you forever like he promised himself but he still goes.

It was a nice afternoon, birds chirping and he saw little children from the nursery running around in the hallways with toys in their hands. He mentally prepared himself for what he was about to see, turning away from your hospital room for a moment before entering.

His eyes softened for a moment when he laid his eyes on you, you were reading a book— an eerie one at that. Sae raised an eyebrow when he noticed that you didn't hear him enter, what if you were deliberately ignoring him? He was sure you were but he didn't catch your attention until he stepped closer to your bed, a shadow looming over you as you slowly looked up to him.

The two of you stare at each other for what it felt like forever, he's still looking at you like that. Love in his irises but there's a tint of melancholy.

You could see Sae saying something to you, you tried to read his lips but his words fell on deaf ears.

Sae was getting irritated on why you didn't respond but you took the white board that was resting on your bedside table. He patiently watched you write something on the board, clack, clack, clack.

'Im deaf. I can't hear you.'

Just months ago you were fine but he gets more ill with worry when his mind starts to drift and wonder what could've happened to you when he left you here all alone.

You erased the writing on the board, giddily like a child as you handed him the board next, signaling him to also write you something.

The athlete hesitated for a moment before grabbing the board off your hands, writing something hastily. He feels like if he wasted any more time he'll lose everything— but he knew that he already did the moment when he called it quits months ago.

'What happened', he wrote on the board, streaks of ink staining his palm but that's the least of his worries.

You sat up in a more comfortable position before opening the drawer, taking a clipboard, medical documents clipped to the board. Sae reads the papers, his throat starts burning and he feels tears building up in his eyes. He flips through the papers, information about your condition printed on the tiny pieces of paper as he reads through everything.

You couldn't understand what he was muttering under his breath but you were sure it was something… the way he bit his lip to hold back the tears and the way his hands got sweaty as he scanned the board.

Sae loved many things, you, soccer, coffee and the beach. There was something about hospitals that made him uneasy. Hospitals correlated to injury and death— a big no no for him. But as an athlete, a pro one at that it's not surprising that he regularly visits the hospital for nutrition advice or medicine. Though… this one was his worst visit yet. He told himself that he won't ever cry or love you again, that's why it's 'Sae loved' but he realizes he still loves you. Even though you're stuck on the hospital bed, sickly and dying, your arms littered with scars from the tubes that go in and out your skin and maybe the way you look so frail and skinny now compared to what you looked like months ago; he still loves you. He realized that in this moment he's always going to be looking for you the way you pathetically looked for him in the hospital, wishing he was there after you two broke up.

At least now the gods were merciful enough to grace you with his presence for the last time, even in this situation you still smiled at him like he deserved to see that again.

Itoshi Sae who visits you again tomorrow before you pull off the plug, Pain plastered on his face as he holds you tightly. He broke his promise.

To you, to never hurt you.

To himself, to never love you again.

Michael Kaiser

"Oh say it ditto, Can't wait till the morning, So say it ditto"

Michael Kaiser pretends he's fine after the break up and to distract himself from the pain, he dates other people— looking for someone who can fill the void you carved in his heart, looking for you.

Michael Kaiser who still wears the cardigan you bought him, giving him solace and comfort when he curls up in his bed alone, wishing you were there with him.

You and Kaiser didn't break up on bad terms, more like a confusing and neutral breakup. He told you he was done and you didn't beg him to stay, after all he neglected you for his selfish desires. He's like an icarus who has flown too close to the sun, his ego representing the melting wax wings of icarus— it burned your skin and melted your patience.

Michael Kaiser still stalks you in his other account you forgot that existed. He wouldn't admit it but he patiently waited for an update on your account.

Michael Kaiser who stalks your account and finally sees something. Your parents' post talking about you being stuck in the hospital.

Michael Kaiser doesn't cry, he can't. Images on the posts ingraining— burning itself in the deepest parts of his brain then it triggers something in him. Confusion.

He doesn't know the exact details of your situation but he's too curious to scroll past the post.

Michael Kaiser who gets a cab and arrives at your hospital, like a man with no shame he looks for your room.

It was nighttime and the hospital was uncannily quiet, he wasn't sure why but the guard was doing a terrible job at guarding the entrance of the hospital. Kaiser walks past the sleepy guard, ignoring the thumping sound of the guard falling on the floor as he makes his way to the lady on the desk.

"What brings you in here, sir?"

He pushes up his glasses, "I'm looking for my lover, [patient name]", he says boldly, lying through his teeth but he knows it's the only way they'll let him in.

"Give me a minute," the nurse starts flipping through the hospital log book, "They're at room 405, third floor."

Kaiser nods, thanking the nurse as he takes the elevator.

'ding' Kaiser enters the elevator, checking his watch while waiting for it to arrive at the third floor. The elevator was dimmed and it looked like a scene straight from horror movies, another old lady in a wheelchair strolls to the elevator.

"What's a handsome young man like you doing in the dead of the night here?" The grandma says in a hoarse voice, grey hairs covering her face as she holds onto both her wheelchair and fruits.

Though Kaiser is an asshole, a liar, he naturally had a soft spot for children and the elderly. "I'm here for my… lover" he doesn't know what gave it away but the older woman noticed the hesitance in his voice.

The grandma nodded at his reply, 'ding!'

"I guess this is my stop." Kaiser stepped out of the elevator, waving goodbye to the elderly woman and ambled in the hallway.

The scent of disinfectant invaded his nostrils, though the smell gets more diverse as he passes by different hospital rooms. He hears people screaming and crying at the room to his left and the other room dead silent, as if a corpse inhabited the room to his right.

Sweat starts trickling down his forehead when he counts the hospital room's numbers and realizes he's getting closer to yours. 'shit, shit, shit' his mind spiralling into madness, anxiety as he braces himself for what he's about to see.

His legs started to feel like jelly as his feet dragged him in front of your hospital room. A feeling of uncertainty, something he never felt again after breaking up with you.

Months ago when you two broke up he wondered if maybe you'd crawl back to him, like a child who ran away but comes home again the day after, but you didn't.

The door pulled open as he made his way inside, the lights were turned off but the sound of humming took him by surprise.

"I can hear you, you know."

Oh, that voice. That voice that could soothe him on days like these, your voice so gentle he thinks it's a sweet melody, a lullaby so sweet it would bring the devil down on his knees begging and repenting for forgiveness if he ever heard your voice.

The German boy doesn't come forward, only staring at your disheveled figure on the bed, waiting for death themselves to take you away from your misery.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Your fingers traced the lamp before finding the switch, making a flick sound as the soft illuminating glow lights up the room. You nod as you sit up, hugging yourself as you find comfort in the bandages that wrapped around your body.

"I'm sorry." It was the first time he's ever said this to you in ages, he wished he said this to you back then, he wishes that he was there for you.

Maybe he was the devil, cruel and mean, strong yet so weak. His knees buckled as he let out a choked sob, his fears that builded up couldn't hold in much longer as tears streamed down his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kaiser says in between his sobs, the prideful man being broken down into a pathetic, crying mess.

Your fingers fiddled together in anxiety, you always had that stupid habit of yours when in distress. As much as you couldn't forgive Kaiser— he's too weak, too vulnerable for you to ignore.

Still Kaiser was shameless but not too shameless to go even a few inches closer to your bed, his mind racing— thinking that everything is all his fault as his heart rate goes up.

"Why should I? We're not even together." His chest tightens, if anyone could see him right now they'd think he's a fucking idiot— crying over the dying lover he left to rot in the hospital? Piece of shit.

"Yeah I know." He tries to calm himself down but he knows it's useless when you pick up on his uneasy behavior.

Kaiser wanted to ask you, 'let's get back together?' or maybe 'please forgive me' because he's a shameless prick but it's the first time he doesn't let his pride take over his senses.

He grieves right in front of you, your eyes never leaving his as his body language is signaling you, begging you to say something but it's better that you didn't.

He has all the time in the world to grieve for you after all, he's a shameless, selfish man… isn't he?

Notes: hell nah i'm sorry if there was so many grammar mistakes and stuff this isn't really proofread and i'm thinking of opening requests so like uh what do you guys think should i open requests

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

“i was made for lovin’ you, baby” — karasu tabito,

minor ep nagi / karasu backstory spoilers

‘Do ya still love me?’

The words left Karasu’s mouth before he could even think or arrange his depressing questions properly and once they were let out, Karasu immediately regretted them.

He’s no stranger to such thoughts—in fact, they’re more common in his mind than he’d like to admit. Almost every hour of every day, he’d be plagued with these unpleasant thoughts and more. If he didn’t put a stopper on it, if he didn’t bottle them up then he’d fall down a spiral and that’s the last thing he ever wanted.

The last thing he ever wanted was for someone to see him as weak, as mediocre.

And he’d do just about anything to prevent that from happening.

‘Hmm? What did you say?’ you mumbled, tearing your eyes away from the tv screen and towards him.

Oh. You heard him.

‘Nothin’ babe, don’t worry,’ he replied, he looked down at you, trying to smirk but his muscles failed him.

He looked—felt—defeated.

‘Everything okay?’ you asked, your attention towards the tv was long gone—all now directed towards his blue and purple stained eyes.

God, the way you looked at him made him weak. He just couldn’t lie to you—not after the fact that out of everyone, you chose him. Him, a mediocre-at-best soccer player. Him, even with his sharp and degrading tongue.

‘Why… why me?’ he whispered. He wished you didn’t hear these words, he wished you couldn’t see him in such a pathetic state.

‘Whatever do you mean?’

You heard him, again.

He closed his eyes and took a breath in—he couldn’t believe that he was opening up to you. What if you left him afterwards? What if you thought he was too… clingy and desperate for reassure? What if? What if? What if?

‘Why did ya choose me out of everyone? Lots of guys were pinnin’ after ya so… why me?’

He was so mediocre and you were Aphrodite wrapped in human flesh.

‘Why wouldn’t I date you?’

What? That’s the last thing he expected you to say.

‘You’re just… perfect,’ you mumbled against his ear, moving upwards to kiss his mole. His mole always got too much attention from you but he could never get used to the feeling of your soft lips against his skin. God, the sensation made him feel like he’d burst into a thousand flames.

‘…so perfect.’

‘You’re smart too, very smart. I haven’t seen anyone explain chemistry to me like how you explained it to me.’

He reminisced back to the multiple tutoring sessions you had with him back in the early days of your relationship. ‘When you rambled about Transition Metals to me, that was when I realised I liked you.’

‘You’re pretty… did I ever call you pretty? Well, you’re really pretty to me, the prettiest if you will.’

No one ever called him that before. Sure he’d gotten his fair share of compliments but no one ever called him pretty of all things. He never believed he could blush this hard but you proved him wrong—he knew his face was a deep crimson right now.

‘And above all else, I love you, Tabito.’

Oh. You said it, you said you loved him.

To mask his surprise, he attempted to cover his emotions with his classic smirk and cocky-ness: ‘I know ya do, babe. I know you love me.’

Bit by bit, a small part of his wall had broken—he had opened the walls for you slightly and for the first time, he didn’t regret letting someone in.

He was no stranger to insecurities but at least now, he had your reassurance to build him back up.

ritsu sakuma is indeed your angel. song recommended to play while reading ; ‘dream’ by suzy, baekhyun.

— ✦ gender neutral reader, fluff, just a short drabble. [ a/n ; i saw a tiktok about him and rei and fell in love instantly, he's the reason why i started playing enstars. gotta love our little lazy ass ]

the bathroom door creaking open, revealing your boyfriend with messy— dark hair, isn't he supposed to be asleep? “what're you still doing awake?” the raven-haired male asked, leaning on the door frame, making you jump a bit. “ritsu— you're awake at this time? it's 2am?” you answered, not giving a proper answer, earning an eyebrow raise from the male. “i should be asking you that. you weren't beside me in bed.”

“sorry, i just.. you know?? isn't the answer obvious??” you tilted your head as he fully entered the room, grabbing your wrist. “you look like your done right? let's go back to bed.” ritsu dragged you all the way to the bed again, but soon you stopped in your tracks, while he sat down on the side of the bed. “what are you waiting for? come.” patting the spot beside him.

you sighed, but obeyed. “good.” he said, cupping your cheeks and pressing a quick kiss on your forehead. finally laying down on the bed, the moon still shining. you pulled a blanket over the two of you, ritsu's hands slowly making it down to your thighs, squishing it a bit between his middle and pointer finger. “..your soft.” he breathed out, “you could've chose another body part to touch. like my face you know.” you rolled your eyes, ritsu just chuckling as his hand moved to your waist. “okay okay~ goodnight.” you hummed in reply as you both dozed off.

and.. i really don't think you wanna hear what tsukasa told you the next day in the morning.

©miihai

snap shoot !!

yukimiya x gn!reader // fluff // 375 words // requested

warnings: cameras

taglist — 🏷 // @asprosworld ; @mngoxbinsu ; @shinehyuk ; @trashlord-007. if you’d like to be added, send in an ask or dm!!

“woah, the birds are so pretty!”

arm intertwined with his, you curiously point out a pair of pale white birds that seem to blend in with the fluffy ivory clouds.

yukimiya hums in agreement, a faint smile etched on his strikingly handsome features. a soft zephyr dances in the air, ruffling his chestnut beret and making both your coats slightly flutter.

you’ve always liked these moments with him - even if it’s silently walking along the promenade in tandem, or sharing a mellow coffee at a tiny rural cafe, they all seem to have an underlying vigour.

maybe it’s just because you’re with him.

“hey! hey, you two!”

a loud but not impolite call snaps you from your thoughts, and both you and yuki turn to face the stranger clutching a camera adorning his neck.

“do you two mind if i take some photos? i’m trying to have a photoshoot capturing strong emotions.”

“strong emotions?” you question, glancing nervously at yuki, who reassuringly smiles at you.

“well, love is a strong emotion, is it not?” yuki helpfully supplies. “sure. we don’t mind at all, take as many as you need.”

“great! just pretend i’m not here, and just enjoy the moment.”

for a few minutes, you’re consciously aware of the camera lens pointing at you, but you soon forget it as you bask in the comfort of yuki’s presence.

it feels like no time before the photographer motions that he’s done, and thanks you two for your contribution.

“i really appreciate this. your names?”

“ah, kenyu yukimiya, and y/n yukimiya.”

your mouth falls open in shock at his words - you’re only dating - but the photographer simply laughs.

“you two are so cute together. did the whole world a favour by marrying, huh!”

and even though it’s the first time yuki and the camera person has met, they exchange knowing looks filled with something transcending human comphrension before laughing like old friends. you can’t help but smile too, too caught up in the moment.

before you know it, the photographer has picked up his camera once more, and taken a photo.

he swivels the camera screen to face you two, and there it is - your amused smile and yuki’s joyful one, captured on camera for eternity.