call me ley <3 | she/her | predominantly a love and depressionâ i mean deepspace, blog | 19 | caleb enthusiast | im also in the l&ds cn fandom, currently working on being more active on xiaohongshu
â i write fluff but sometimes they accidentally end up being angst â requests are currently open â i donât really kiss the brick before i throw it â started lads as a sylus main in 24 but became a caleb main when gege got released âđ¨đł â im insanely bad (forgetful) at tagging, so forgive me and just try to show up ok gng â i love yapping and my dearly beloved mutuals and regulars
absolutely no sinophobia, racism, or toxic behaviour as seen on lads twt on this blog, no whitewashing of the lis either (it pains me to have to say this) or else dni. no rules for requests except no smut for now.
EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT CALEBâS IN HIS FEELINGS AND HE CANâT GET OUT OF ITâŚ
Sypnosis: Caleb x non!mc â you find out he only used you in this marriage of three, and only had a child with you to prove to the world that he, Caleb Xia, had moved on. 7k words. Warnings: HURT NO COMFORT no seriously, x reader is a stretch. mentions of pregnancy, birth and cheating. selfish caleb. i like exploring his ego. A/N: Sorry for the wait. I smoked 7 cigs in the process of writing this (working through my 8th now as I do the formatting). this stemmed from a little ask that was just too angsty to write a simple blurb on. highly suggest listening to mitski while reading this/earrings by malcolm todd (of which the title originates from) for the maximum angst experience.
There were three of you in this marriage, so naturally, it was a bit crowded.
Part of you felt unbelievably happy to be at the altar with Caleb Xia, yet another part of you couldnât ignore the nudging feeling that something was very wrong with your husband-to-be.Â
To the spectators of the wedding, Caleb seemed perfectly composed. Not that most of them would know him any better than you did of the man you were about to dedicate the rest of your life to. The audience of the simple wedding at the courthouse consisted of your family and friends, and for CalebâŚwell, the only three people who he invited were Gideon andâŚ
And her. MC. Of course.Â
Youâve always had an idea of who she was. It was hard not to acknowledge the woman your husband was obsessed with, is still obsessed with. You knew how much MC weighed on Calebâs heart, and you could only guess how much that weight doubled when MC, instead of marrying him, married some cardiologist friend of hers. And you could piece together that you were nothing more than a trophy of proof for Caleb to show that he had moved on.Â
Yet, you still naively believed that, just like any good fairy tale, Caleb would eventually fall in love with you.
But one look into his empty, loveless eyes, as he signed your marriage certificate, told you otherwise.  The chaste, brief kiss you exchanged felt like more of an obligation to show to the wedding guests rather than a genuine embrace of a husband and wife.Â
But then again, you didnât think you expected much more.Â
In fact, Caleb looked happier when after the ceremony, MC bounded up with him with a grin, patting his hair and congratulating him for getting married and finally, finally moving on. To which he blushed and replied to her with something inaudible to you.
So from the very beginning, thereâs always been three there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the altar (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MCâs favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.Â
Although it was not that you expected for Caleb to start acting like your husband right off the bat (you told yourself he needed time to heal). Not that you expected him to treat you like MC. Not that you never stopped praying that the underdog (you) of the story may prevail eventually. Yet the silence in his cold, gray penthouse, the lack of physical touch between the two of you, the meals consumed in harrowing conversation (youâd have to give it to him for always trying to ask you how your day was everyday), the nights spent so far away from each other, was slowly convincing you that this marriage was nothing but one of convenience. All you did was try your best to keep holding onto the hope that maybe things would change with Caleb for the better.Â
About two years into the marriage, Caleb surprised you by asking if you could have a child together.Â
You were shocked he was the one to ask.Â
Your remembered first attempt at intimacy had gone miserably. You could freshly recall on your wedding night when Caleb had loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom, his chest heaving - though he hadnât moved to do anything, anything at all - with spots of tears forming in the crease of his eye. After ten minutes of silence, he rolled off you.
âIâ Iâm sorryâŚI- I canât.â
You had told him it was okay. And you never mentioned it again, so you were coloured surprised when Caleb meekly asked you, as if he thought you might get upset, to try for a baby.Â
Fortunately for him, it only took about three times before you presented him with a positive pregnancy test. Fortunately for you as well, since each attempt was very awkward, terrifyingly so. You had no idea where you should have out your hands, your legs, if he even wanted your hands on himâ and neither did Caleb know what to do with his touch. Youâd think he didnât want a baby by how hesitant he was acting. However, eventually when you did hand him that test with two pink lines, Calebâs face practically glowed. You had never seen your husband, in all these years of marriage, look soâŚhappy, so much more like his actual age than the cold, gloomy colonel you were married to. For the first time, you saw the sunny Caleb that you only got to know through photos stuck in dusty albums in the corners of your home. He hugged you, kissed you, and laughed in relief.Â
Relief?Â
Honestly, you were somewhat relieved too. Usually, Caleb would be away for prolonged periods of time, always muttering about something to to with the fleet, a mission, training, before departing for sometimes weeks at a time, but ever since you got pregnant, Caleb cut back on prolonged duties and stayed by your side if he could. There was one thing you could never complain about him, was that when it really came down to it, Caleb was not a bad husband by the books. He constantly cooks, cleans, cares and caters for you, and even more so now, heâll drop whatever is on hand at momentâs notice to come running to you if you said you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. Plus, with all the baby essentials Caleb had purchased, they had really livened up the house much more. You watch as he assembles them without the need to look at the instructions whilst sitting on the floor of the living room. As he fusses about with you taking the right supplements, about getting enough sleepâŚitâs cute. Itâs the closest feeling youâve ever experienced to having a real husband,  despite being married for well over two years now.Â
On a muggy afternoon, you inched out of Calebâs grasp (he has now found it in himself to sleep closer to you with one hand usually over your stomach if you allow it) and wobbled your way to the walk in closet for some airier clothes. As you sifted through the racks, you accidentally knocked out a few photos from Calebâs colonel service coat, which fluttered down to the bottom of the closet. Crouching down (whilst you still could), you inspected the photos.Â
Oh.
It was a laminated photo of your babyâs ultrasound. Not just that, but on the edges of the photo, written neatly in his handwriting in pen, were the words: [name]âs ultrasound appointment on xx/xx/xxxx.Â
Adorable, you thought, that Caleb carried this around with him. You privately wondered if he would proudly show it off to his co-workers or his underlings. You hoped he might, maybe even boast a little about how lucky he and his wife was. You couldnât help but smile to yourself, wondering if this marriage was finally taking a step into the right direction.Â
But right next to that photo was that necklace. When U Come Back. You knew very well the story behind that necklace, how MC had given it to him before he left for the aerospace academy. How he used to wear it, 24/7, but had at least the decency to stop wearing it at all times and only keep it on him, after he married you. Yes, at least he had the decency to now never take off your wedding bands. Your eyes glazed over the necklace again. Bitterly, you wondered if heâd ever want to carry a photo of him and you someday.Â
Nevermind. You dried your eyes quickly. At least in this marriage, both he and you, are getting something that you both wanted, something that you will both cherish more than anything.Â
A bouncing baby girl.
He wanted your baby. He needed your baby. He wanted to be a father, because he wanted to be a father, a nurturing, loving figure, right? And not for any other reason? Right?
Right.
Two weeks later, whilst tidying up the kitchen, your hand bumped against a bright yellow lunchbox patterned with little apple stickers, long forgotten beneath a pile of documents and papers. Fondly, you picked it up.Â
In the very earliest days of your marriage, you had done the domestic, wifely thing of making your husband a lunchbox before he departed for work every morning. And he had returned an empty box everytime, down to the last grain of rice being picked clean. You still remember the fuzzy feeling of seeing Caleb smile at you, thanking you for such a delicious meal, how his subordinates had all fawned over the presentation, how delicious it was, how lucky the colonel was to have such a lovely wifeâŚ
So why not do it again? You thought merrily, after all, you havenât made him a packed lunch in a while. Maybe showing up at his work with a delicious lunchbox might perk him up. Excitedly, you got into your car and made your way down into central Skyhaven.Â
Entering the fleet HQ, you were immediately guided to your husbandâs office.Â
You were about to turn the handle and step in - usually there werenât much visitors in his office in the middle of the day - but a chorus of loud voices stopped you.Â
âAnd to Caleb! The newest dad-to-be!â
âThe first of all of us to be a father, actually.â
You heard a round of clinking cups. It must be Caleb, inviting his flight school friends to celebrate the impending birth of your child. At his office thoughâŚstrange. But it must be because heâs been so busy, he hardly had any time to go anywhere except his workplace and his home.
âWoahâŚno, no more.â You recognised that as Calebâs voice. You could imagine his hand gliding over to cover the surface of his glass.
Drinking? In the middle of the day? Seriously? You snorted, hand going down on the handle again, But at least itâs to a good cause. Caleb being a new dad and all.
âBut seriously. Hereâs also to your marriage not being a total disaster!âÂ
Your stopped before you could push against the door.
âItâs not. A total disaster.â Caleb said, his voice a bit slurred though not completely drunk.
âYeah, yeahâŚwe all know you had the hots for MC, but she ended up marrying that sexy doctor instead of the big bad colonel, didnât she, oofâ!âÂ
A thud. Caleb had probably slammed whoever said that against the wall. A series of âooohsâ followed.
âKidding, kiddingâŚâ
âYou better be.â Caleb dusted his hands off, sinking back into his seat. âIâve long moved on from MC. I even have proof.â
âOh yeah? Donât tell me itâsââ
He pulled out the ultrasound picture that he kept in his uniform pocket, showing it to everyone in the room.
âI had a child with my wife. Canât you see how much Iâve moved on already? I can have a child with someone whoâs not MC. See?â
Tears stung your vision.Â
So thats what he was using that picture for.Â
Not for a happy memoryâs keepsake, no. But to show the world that he, Colonel Caleb Xia, the yearner, the lover, the oh-so-perfect manâŚhas moved on from his sweet MC.
âŚ
You quickly threw the lunchbox you made away, and fled the building. You needed to get away from him, in that moment. You didnât want to linger on in this kind of feeling anymore.
âŚ
Time passes a lot quicker, you found, when it wasnât just you in the house all day. With Caleb by your side (more or less constantly in the final few months of your pregnancy) the days had quickly passed. And before you knew it, there was a living, breathing infant in your arms.Â
The birth was easy, and again, you were grateful for Calebâs support (he never left your side in those six hours, plus youâve heard far too many horror stories of baby daddies bringing their Xbox, or not showing up at allâŚ) though admittedly you swore at him multiple times and eventually snapped at him to wait outside. However, part of you feared he might react to an actual baby, his and your baby, with regret and hesitation. You couldnât shake the fear that Caleb might feel prejudiced against a baby you made with him instead of one borne from him and MC. But those fears quickly evaporated when you saw Caleb crying, sniffling, holding the little pink bundle in his arms.
Both Caleb and you were overjoyed, though also albeit scared, naturally like most first-time parents. He was seriously dedicated at every step. Again, youâd have to give it to him for being a good dad.Â
After returning from the hospital, he never allowed you to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby. He never complained about doing the messy work that came with babies, often willingly taking care of all her wants every day as if trying to prove a point. He now even tries to come home earlier and go on less long-distance fleet missions to spend more time with the baby, something heâs never done for you in the time you were married. You watched as he poured his whole heart into being a good dad for a tiny little girl. A perfect masculine figure. Ever so sensitive to what she needed.
But what about what you needed?
Sometimes when you come home after a day out with your friends or a solo trip somewhere, the moment you open the door to your home, you feel as if your entire world is behind that doorway. That despite all the freedoms Caleb has given you in this marriage (the financial freedom, âyou can go anywhere you wantâ , you can do whatever you wish), your world had drastically shrank to the man sitting in the grey parlour, who wasnât even facing you.
On other days, he wasnât even there.Â
Gone to MCâs. Emergency.
âŚ.you werenât exponentially surprised by the reason. Caleb frequently rushed to MCâs house to deal with her emergencies. At this point, you simply shrugged it off and continued on as you usually would. Only that when you went to the nursery to check on your daughterâŚ
The crib was empty.Â
Your heart dropped. You had frantically dialled his number. No response. You racked your head for thousands of possibilities. Did someone take her? Did he mention he was taking her anywhere? Did heâŚdid he take your child? Taking off with MC to a place where youâd never find him again? Did Caleb pack up and leave altogether? With your baby?
You told yourself it couldnât be true. That heâd never do something like that. He wouldnât. That Caleb is a good, kind man. But to what distances he would go for MC, you had no idea. All you knew was that youâd like it to be you instead of her.Â
Ten minutes later, you were banging the front door of MCâs house.Â
Surprisingly, it was her husband, Zayne, who answered.Â
â[name]? What are you doing here?â Zayne asked, surprised.Â
He didnât even get to answer before you shoved past him, calling Calebâs name.Â
âCaleb, Caleb?!â Your mind flashed with possibilities of where he could be. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he took MC and drove up to the airport already. But surely not, his car was parked outside, and, andâŚ
There he was. In MCâs backyard, sleeves rolled up, that stupid grin on his face as heâŚtacked a nail into a piece of plywood, MC hovering over him with a tray of lemonade. You stopped in your steps where the stone of the house met grass, calming down, as you watched your husband beam up at MC, sweat glistening down his muscular arms, droplets forming on his healthy skin, a damp V soaking the top of his t-shirt. Time seemed to slow as Caleb reached up, took a sparkling glass, smiling at MC gratefully, a smile so bright youâve never seen in all those times you ever offered him something.Â
âCaleb!â You snapped, finally loud enough that he whipped his head around, MC too. âCaleb! Whereâs our daughterââ
Before you could even hear his reply, a beaming MC gasped in delight and smothered you in a hug.Â
â[name]! Youâre here too! Thatâs perfect, you should stay and have dinner! Ooh, Iâll tell Zayne to set an extra space at the table.â She spun around, shouting into the open patio doors. âZAAAAAYNIIIIEEEEE?âÂ
She talked at such a fast pace, you barely even got to get a word in on how you didnât really want to stay for dinner, how you just wanted to demand where your daughter is and go home. In that moment, you didnât even really care if your husband went home with you. But just as you opened your mouthâŚ
âAw, pips, thereâs no need, Iâm almost done with building this part already.âÂ
MC pouted, that little, pathetic, faux-childish pout she always made at her dear gege.Â
âCâmon, Caleb, staying for dinner is the least you could do for me, after rushing over on such short notice to build Zacharyâs treehouse.â She said, referring to hers and Zayneâs son. She turned to you and smiled, dropping her voice to a whisper, âZayne is so useless when it comes to things like this, and my gege is the best!âÂ
She turned back to Caleb. âAnd bringing your adorable little daughter too! Iâve been dying to meet her. You know Iâve asked you so many times already.â
You paused. âWait a minute. YouâŚasked Caleb toâŚto bringâŚâ
âYes!â MC replied, âI know sheâs only a few months old, but all Iâve been asking Caleb is to let me meet my adorable niece!âÂ
It was almost laughable. The âemergencyâ that required Calebâs immediate attention was the construction of  a treehouse for MCâs son.  You couldnât help but wonder how many other of these such trips to her house that Caleb took were also something else, something less significant but labelled as an âemergencyâ.Â
You turned to Caleb, absolutely pissed.Â
âYou. You took my daughter just like that? You took her without asking me?âÂ
âI told you I was going to MCâsââ
âYou didnât tell me you were taking her!âÂ
âI thought you would have assumedââ
Right. Like you should assume, like every other little bit of your marriage, you should have assumed that Calebâs judgement was right. That your husband is doing his best for you. For this marriage. That you should assume every step he did, he was thinking of you first, and not MC. You should always assume. Youâd be happier off that way.Â
But obviously, you were much more headstrong than Caleb let on. You were no longer the nervous blushing bride that had once optimistically stood by his side.Â
âYou have no right to take her and tell me, her mother, to just assume anything about the safety of her own child.â You replied, in a tone that surprised Caleb so much, that he wasnât sure how to reply.
MC, caught in the middle, immediately pushed in to diffuse the tension.
âAw, donât be like that, my sister-in-law.â She smiled, holding onto your arm. âDonât blame Caleb, itâs my fault. I asked him to bring the baby.âÂ
âNo, no.â Caleb cut in, standing up and putting a hand onto MCâs shoulder. âDonât blame yourself.âÂ
He turned to you, frowning. â[name], I think weâve just blown this way out of proportion. No oneâs been hurt and youâre acting if Iâve kidnapped someone!â
âYou know thatâs not what Iââ
âCome on.â Caleb gently took your hand, herding you towards the house. âOur daughterâs fine. Sheâs asleep upstairs.â
He led you past the living room, past the kitchen where a frazzled Zayne stood, wordlessly watching as Caleb led you up the staircase and into the nursery, familiar with the layout as if it was his own house, to where your daughter was sleeping peacefully in their sonâs old crib.Â
âSee?â Caleb sighed, âNothingâs wrong. You got all worked up over nothing.âÂ
You wanted to yell and him and tell him that this wasnât nothing. That somehow ânothingâ always seemed to be associated with his behaviour with MC, and that none of what happened concerning MC in your marriage could just be swept under the rug like that. Maybe thatâs how he preferred it, you thought bitterly.
âI want to go home.â Was your only reply.
Calebâs shoulders slackened. âCâmon, letâs just stay for dinnerâŚâ
âI want. To go. Home.â
Your husband seemed to give up this case, and sighed. âAlright.â He replied, âLet me get my jacket.â
Suddenly, both of your heads turned, as you heard MC rap her hand against the nursery doorframe.Â
âCalebâŚcan I just speak with you for a second before you goâŚ?â
You wanted to question if she had been lurking outside, listening, but Caleb cut in front of you.Â
âOf course.â He replied.
He took MC by her shoulderâWeâll just be a minute.â He called to you.
âYou donât mind, do you?â MC asked graciously.Â
âSure.â You replied evenly. âIâll just be in here. Come get me when youâre done, okay? Iâll dress our daughter to leave.â
You saw Caleb nod, before escorting MC down the stairs. You made sure they both saw you close the nursery door.
You mad good on your promise to stay in the nursery and dress your fussy little daughter (who was looking more like Caleb by the day). Five minutes later, gently creaking open the nursery door, you snuck outside, thinking theyâd finished their conversation already.  But you realised they hadnât gone far. As you stood on the stairs with your back against the side of the wall, you could clearly hear Caleb and MC talking in the living room behind the staircase.Â
Their words made your heart beat out of your chest.
âIs your wife always soâŚuptight?â You heard MC mumble, her voice suddenly sultrier than before.
âNo, sheâs justâŚâ You heard Caleb began.
Iâm just what, Caleb?
ââŚsheâs just emotional, thatâs all.â
You heard MC snort. âEmotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonelâŚâ She sighed, âAnd I thought that, yâknow, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. Sheâs like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your âpipsqueakââŚâ Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.Â
âI thought maybe you found a better replacement.â
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.Â
âMCâŚnothing and nobody could ever replace you.â Caleb said gently.
They were silent for a long time. Wetness had began to gloss your eyes.
âWellâŚon that happy noteâŚâ MC mumbled, âI have some news for you.â
âHm? What is it?âÂ
âIâmâŚâ She giggled, âIâm expecting.â
âYouâre what?!â You heard Caleb exclaim.
âShhhh! I said Iâm expecting. Iâm going to have another baby.â MC replied hushedly.Â
âOh wowâŚcongratulations!â Caleb laughed. âGuess Iâm ready to be uncle to another mini-zayne, huh?âÂ
MC let out a small happy sigh. âNot quite.â
âWhat do you mean? Do you think this babyâs going to look more like you, orââÂ
âNo, noâŚâ
A pause. MC gazed up at your husband, clasping his hands.
âCalebâŚthe baby is yours.â
âŚ
You couldnât bear to hear the rest of the conversation. You sprinted back up the stairs, going back into the darkness of the nursery. You hated yourself for it, but you couldnât help but sob, sob over this marriage which youâve always held hope to, this marriage which, admittedly, up to that moment you were still clinging onto the hope that things may turn to the better, that your fate might change, that this wasnât all a mistake, that your marriage wasnât just a helpless fantasy on your partâŚ
But look at you now.
Crying on the floor of the house which belonged to the woman who your husband was obsessed with. Crying with a baby that was only born into the world to prove a point for your husband, to prove that he had moved on. Or worse, your poor baby daughter wasnât even born to prove a point anymore, she had only served to prove a lie, a lie that was quickly unravelling at the hands of the man who demanded her existence.
CalebâŚoh, Caleb.
Your tears stopped when you heard someone coming up the stairs. Immediately, you dried your eyes and stood up, trying to slow down your breaths and calm yourself down. You refused to face your husband like this. You refused to make a scene. Not now, anyway.
âReady to go?â He asked, pushing the door open.Â
You didnât turn for a second. In that moment, time seemed to stop.Â
Slowly, you turned to him, your daughter held tightly in your arms.
âSure.â You smiled, âLetâs go home.â
âŚ
Home. Such a funny word.
As you watched the glowing skyscrapers pass you in the passenger seat, you suddenly felt very calm. The air was wet from rain, and a cool summer breeze had began to sweep through the night. You thought you might feel rage, or resentment, but insteadâŚall you felt was a strange sense of sereneness. You were disappointed at Caleb, sure, but not as surprised as you thought youâd feel.
Which felt worse than being angry.Â
Youâd rather feel that rush of adrenaline, make a scene, throw something at his face and scream at him and cry and slap him, maybe, but no, no, all you felt was a churning pit of emptiness in the pits of your stomach. Your belly empty, while MCâs swelled with life. His life.
âWhat do you want to have for dinner when we get back home?â Caleb asked you, breaking the silence.
You shrugged, wondering when, or if that all, he was going to confirm for you what you had overheard.Â
âDonât be like that.â He nudged you with a half smile, âYou can pick anything. Anything at all to eat, itâs up to you.â
You didnât want to eat with him. Even the thought of sitting at the same table, across him, made you feel sick. The thought of your mouth wrapping around the utensils that once touched his mouth, his mouth that once warmed MCâs tongue. Biting into food prepared by his hands, his hands that once traveled across MCâs naked skin. A sickening scene.
You didnât want anything to do with him.Â
âIâd rather you decide.â Came your firm reply. âSince you seem to decide everything that goes on around here.â
Caleb sighed, a long heavy drag. â[name], I donât know what you want me to tell you.â He spun the wheel, pulling into the familiar street. âSo can we please just drop the attitude?â
âWhat attitude?â You asked, fluttering your lashes as often MC did when she wanted to appease her dearest gege, âI really donât mind what we eat. Why would I?â
â[name].â He said more seriously, âPlease. I donât want a scene. Our babyâs asleep in the back and Iâd really like to keep it that way.â
Right, so youâd be fine having an argument if our daughter wasnât here. Speaking of childrenâŚ
âMCâs looked glowing today, donât you think?â You mentioned, sliding out of the passengerâs seat almost the second Caleb rolled the car into the driveway.Â
He shot you a strange look as he unlatched your daughter from her baby seat in the back. âYesâŚshe did. Why do you ask?â
You shrugged innocently, unlocking the front door, âNothing, I just meant that motherhood agrees with her.âÂ
Caleb said nothing in reply. You watched as he carried your daughter inside, not a muscle in his face giving away a single hint of suspicion or anxiety. You knew what kind of man your husband was. It wouldnât be so easy to gauge out the truth from him, or any semblance of emotion he didnât want to express for that matter. But you were expecting this.
âDo you think sheâs going to have another one?â You said coquettishly, shrugging off your coat.
He couldnât help it this time. You watched from behind as his shoulder twitched, ever so slightly, for not even half a second.Â
âI wouldnât know.â Caleb replied, his tone ordinary, âI wouldnât be surprised if she did. She and Zayne are a happy couple, after all.âÂ
Your husband would have made a great actor, you thought humorlessly. You wondered if he was tearing himself apart inside.
âActually.â You raised your hand, smiling. âI donât want dinner.â
Caleb turned, cocking an eyebrow at you. âWhat? But youââ
âIâm not hungry anymore.â
âAre you sure?â
âYes.â You nodded, one foot on the stairs. âIâm going to bed early. Itâs been a long day.â
âBut itâs onlyââ
âGoodnight, Caleb.â
ââŚgoodnight.âÂ
âŚ
Weeks had passed. Youâve continued to act as if nothing had gone wrong. Caleb went to work, came back from work, cooked, played with your baby girl (who was now crawling all over the place) and went to bed. The only aspect that he feltâŚoff, about, was how pacified you acted now.Â
You didnât pepper him with questions about his day anymore.
You werenât there to ask if he was feeling alright the moment he came home.
You couldnât even bring yourself to stand closer to him.
It was as if the marriage had undergone mitosis and split itself in two, as if the straining cell it had once been has finally pulled away from the other half. All that remained was two individuals, standing inches apart in the kitchen, sitting a meter away in the living room, sleeping in beds that felt miles away from each other at night.
Your scents didnât even mingle together anymore. The air in your home felt stagnant. You were sure that if you hadnât got used to it, if you werenât you for a second and you had visited your current home for the first time, you would assume that there were no inhabitants in it at all.Â
You could imagine it now. The edge of the scissors pulling the winding umbilical cord into a taught triangular shape in the sterile air, about to snap shut, about to separate the two entities, mother snd baby, to deliver individuality and freedom to bothâŚthere just needed to be a little push. A little force. Just a little more, and you would be able to forever sever this rotting chord that ties you to this marriage .Â
Every day, Caleb would come home and wonder what changed your demeanor so much. And youâd wonder when your husband would grow the balls to tell you that MC is pregnant with his baby.
He didnât on week one. Or two. Or three. Or four. And as you can guessâŚ
He didnât speak a word when MC posted a gender reveal (week 19) online, the cutting of the triple-tiered cake revealing flamingo-pink insides. Caleb liked that post, you saw.
He also didnât mention a word when MC announced a baby shower (week 28), which you were also invited to (the gall. can you imagine the audacity?). You had acted perfectly amicable, presenting MC with a hug and a basket of gifts. Caleb had gone to congratulate Zayne. You couldnât help but chuckle at the irony.
By the time the date hit 30 weeks after you overheard their conversation, you had had enough.
If Caleb was going to be a coward about it, then you would force him to confront the truth.
âŚ
Week 34 was fast approaching. You knew a normal pregnancy would end at about 37 weeks to 40, so when Caleb, suddenly, in the middle of your morning shot up from his seat after answering a call, you were surprised.
âWhatâs wrong?â You asked.
âMC had thâher baby.â
âAlready?â You hummed. âItâs a bit early, isnât it?â
âYes.â Caleb gasped, practically sprinting to put on his jacket hanging by the bannister, âThatâs why I need to go see her. Now.â
âNo wait!â You stood up, grabbing his wrist. âIâm coming too.â
âNo.â He replied. âYou shouldnât. Someone needs to stay home with our daughter. And I wonât be long.â
âNo, no!â You chirped merrily, picking up your daughter from her high chair. âLetâs bring our baby. After all, she should get to know her new half-sister.â
You enjoyed watching the colour suddenly bleach from his face.
âWhat?â His tone was chilling, shaken, almost boyish.Â
âYou heard me.â You fished out the car keys from the little ceramic dish near the front door. âCome on.â
â[name]ââ
âI thought you were in a hurry to go.â
â[name].â Firmer, now.
âSo letâs go.â
â[NAME]!â Caleb yelled. It was the first time he had yelled at you.
âWhat is it?â You blinked back.
Calebâs eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders heaved.Â
âHow longâŚhave you knew?âÂ
âI think the better question is, Caleb,â Your face, he thought, was frighteningly unreactive. âWhen were you planning on telling me?â
He threw his hands down, turning away from you. âI was going to tell you today. After the baby was born.â
âSo you can force me to face the consequences of your actions? If I like it or not? Is that why?â
âNo! Donât put words in my mouth.â He faced you again. âI was goingâŚI was going toâŚâ
âTo what?âÂ
âTo work something out.â
âAnd how was that going to end?âÂ
âIââ
âIâll tell you how that was going to end, Caleb Xia.â You stabbed your finger against his solid chest. âIt would end in me having to make sacrifices. It would end up in me in pain, over and over again, just to cope with how youâve decided to treat me! I will be the one at a loss while you, you will get what youâve always wanted. Every decision youâve made was never for me. It was always either for you or for MC! I donât believe a word that comes out of your mouth when you tell me that youâll âwork something outâ. I know youâll give me the short end of the straw. You already have, for every day weâve been married. Yet you never realise, because of course in the end whatever happens would work out for you, because it always fucking does!â
â[name].â Caleb breathed, âCalm down.â
âDonât tell me toââ
âIâll be home as quick as I can.â He said, pulling on his shoes at the door. âAnd then weâll settle this.â
You laughed.
âOh, Caleb.âÂ
You watched as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.
âIâm sure youâll find yourself right at home.â You said with a smile.Â
âŚ
âCaleb, come quick!â MC giggled, waving her hand to usher him in. âI just sent Zaynie to go out to the cafe to buy me some lunch.â
Caleb looked over at the bassinet, where a tiny wriggly baby wrapped in white lay. His lips broke out into a smile, a little wider than when he had first met his daughter with you, before gently, very gently reaching into the blankets, prying them apart, to reveal the scrunched up face of his new daughter.
He instantly folded, a finger stroking her wrinkly cheeks.
âHey there, sweetheartâŚâ Caleb cooed, as the baby made an uncommitted sound.Â
She was tiny. Wrinkly. But to Caleb, she was one of the cutest things heâs ever seen. She was part of him, and part of MC, after all.Â
Caleb took an awed breath in, as she fluttered her eyelashes, opening her eyes to revealâŚ
Big, green eyes.
Her eyes were green.Â
A bright, mocking, hazel.
Just.
Like.
Her fatherâs.
Zayne.
âŚ
âWhat the fuck?â Caleb spun to MC, âYou saidââ
âWellâŚâ MC smiled devilishly, a telltale sign that she knew the entire time, âI assumed wrong, I guess.â
âBut you told me it was from that one night whenââ
âThereâs no way I could have conceived her with you from just one night, compared to how many times Iâve fucked Zayne around the same time.â She noticed Caleb wince in uncomfort at the mention of her activities with her husband. âYou were right. Arenât you always, gege.â Â
âButââ
âCaleb, the baby isnât yours.â MC snapped.Â
He stood by the beside, shellshocked.Â
She exhaled out of her nose, smoothing out her blankets. âThere is no âbutâ to it.â
Caleb let out an exasperated breath. âI canât believe you lied to me. You lied to be about something this important!â
âI had to!â Suddenly, her voice turned an 180 and became a pitiful, little cry.Â
âGegeâŚI was trying to help youâŚyou married [name] and seemed to be so upset all the time, so I had to think of a way to get you out of that marriage. And see, nowâŚâ She smiled, âSheâs out of the picture and will never bother you again.â
âYou donât understand!â Caleb shook his wrist out of her grasp, âI would never haveâŚhave put [name] through all this if it wasnât my child to begin with.â
âCome on, Cay, youâre just being selfish now.â MC picked at her nails, âItâs all for the best. You didnât enjoy being married to her in the first place anyway. I canât believe you went through all the trouble of having a kid with her just to prove that you were over me. Youâre so pathetic, gege.â She chuckled.
Caleb felt as if he could not move. MCâs voice seemed to become a distant echo, untilâŚ
âGege?â
He snapped back into reality. Caleb frantically began pulling on his jacket, turning his back to MC, his shallow breaths filling the room.Â
âGege, donât go.â She said softly, âItâs all for the best. Youâll still be an uncle to the baby. To our family. Weâll be together again, arenât you happy about that?â
Calebâs hand tightened on the door. He turned to look at MC, with the most hollow look in his eyes sheâd ever seen him possess. Emptier even than the time she renounced him as her gege.
âNo.â He replied curtly, pushing the door open.Â
âCaleb Xia.â MC barked. âXia Yizhou!â
For the first time, Caleb didnât look back to her.
âŚ
Caleb wasnât sure how many speed limits he broke while making his way home, but from the look of the bumper, he should be expecting a few tickets soon.
He was in a daze as he got out of the car, almost stumbling to the front door of the house, unlocking it.Â
He was ready. To apologise. To kneel before you and beg for forgiveness.Â
Anything at all.
To go back to the beginning. To make things right, as they should be between a husband and his wife.
To be a family. You, him and your precious baby, that you gave him.
He opened the door.
The house was silent.
Almost empty.
EmptyâŚ
The empty table. The empty living room. The empty bedrooms. The empty nursery. It was as if the house had reversed to its first day Caleb had moved in, where every inch was shrouded by plastic wrap and packed in cardboard. When no life had been breathed into his home.
A home without love is just a house, after all. How long had Caleb been trying to change that?
How long had he stayed, in denial, that his goal had actually been long fulfilled?
Where are the people who made his house a home?
â[name]?â Caleb called out. â[name]? Where are you?â
A prickling feeling creeped up against his spine as Caleb made his way back into the kitchen, where you had the fight just before he left. The plates had been cleared away, leaving only a sticky note taped onto the table.
You finally got your dream. I hope you can be happier with MC and your family with her. Itâs all for the best. Love, [name] :)
Caleb fell to his knees.
A choked cry echoed through the house.
What dream? What family?Â
What had he forsaken to chase after his selfish needs?
@meeshrox tagged me for this game on my main blog but I thought why not bring the game here?
So thank you, my love, for the tag and for the opportunity to show my girl.
This is Arya, Rafayel's Cutie. She's a bit light headed and clumsy, and she daydreams a lot. In her naivity, she sometimes let others take the best of her, but when she realizes it, the woman turns into a storm and you better step out of the way.
Her opinion is many times overlooked or ignored, and she tended to share her thoughts less and less because of that, until Rafayel. Fishie seems to be the only one who understands her and she's not ashame to share what's going on on her mind around him.
She loves fiercely, and she will protect the ones she loves until the end. Rafayel is a very lucky bastard đĽ°
I might be starting to collect some ideas for a long fic about those two. Let's see if I can pull it through đŹ
Tagging some lovelies to join the game if you want: @sweet-evil-trap; @munnmolads @irandial @hachisenshi @whateveritisisfine @raffyfish @flamulas-n-boingfish and everyone else who likes to join! If you do tag me to see your gorgeous girls!
Sheâs Like⌠my younger self since I self-insert much.
She adventurous, spontaneous, whimsical and with her it never gets boring. She doesnât like it, to fit in a certain box and is always eager to try new things!
The one thing sheâs passionate about and absolutely devoted too, though, is her precious Lemurian groom.
But sheâs not afraid to tell that Sassy Artist her opinion 𤣠His well-being often is even more important to her than her own, which is why they have quite an equal Relationship to take care of each other đ¤
one thing about her is she loves a good matchy matchy couples outfit đââď¸ very playful and clingy and feral just absolute spoiled kitten behavior
my mc is a self-insert and a silly & nerdy loser just like me <3 her name is mina. she's very hyper-independent and struggles with letting go of her self-imposed pressures and anxieties. when it comes to others, she's fiercely compassionate and firm about her beliefsâbut towards herself? nobody is a harsher critic than her.
sylus is appealing because he respects and supports her independence, but he's also there to help without condescension or making her feel weak. the hard part is getting her to admit it when she needs help. she has a tendency to keep going until she burns out and explodes, like a dying star. sylus admires the fighter in her, but it pains him knowing she won't fight for herself.
i could keep yapping about her relationship with the other guys, but i'm just leave it at sylus so i'm not yapping forever on this post :P
i tried to make her facial features look like mine but i'm kinda ass at character customization so i still tweak her features a bit every once in a while :P
obviously, i don't have yellow eyes. i just thought they looked cool and reminded me of a cat because of the way they seem to glow, so i gave that color to my mc. i don't wear makeup irl but again i thought the golden eyeshadow and thick eyeliner looked so cool i had to put it on my mc <3 i really wish the game had more alt or goth inspired fits im ngl
recently, i had a weird moment of dysphoria where i adjusted my mc's features to look more similar to me (esp the nose and thick eyebrows) and i had this horrible overwhelming dread of "oh my god. i ruined her. she's so ugly now." i realized i was projecting my own insecurities onto her. i only felt she was "uglier" because i made her look more like me. the feeling was so, so strange. eventually, it faded away as i got used to looking at her. now i love her <3
of course, the guys would love us no matter what we look like. plus, me and sylus get to be twins with our big noses and left-handedness :3 honestly, seeing so many people thirst over sylus and higuruma's noses made me feel so much better about my own nose. ultimately, i think participating in the lads fandom and playing the game has been a positive experience in my life. i'm very grateful for that <3
this is my mc, she's half me and half oc. i based her looks off my own features but she came out too pretty and looks nothing like me yet i decided to keep her cause i am in love. we share the same name, cause she is who i wish to be. she's kind, warm, amiable and independent.
đ and these three are her husbands. she doesn't have a type, but she loves the familiarity and the feeling of home they give her.
ik she looks lowk basic compared to everyone elseâs mcs but thatâs coz i just slapped my hair style and eye colour and skin tone on her and called it a day
anyway, this is my MC, daiyu (do you get the reference. you you get it. PLS TELL ME SOMEONE DOES HELLO DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER BAOYU AND DAIYU CALEB AND MEâ) i wish my hair was as fluffy as her in game hair but alas, i also wish i had her nose. but thatâs the fun in making her! giving her all i want. i want her wardrobe too. daiyu is the manifestation of my inner peace and love. sheâs the best meimei to the best gege, xiayizhou đЎđЎ
np tags: @xinghuisknight and any of my followers who see this post
i canât finish this fic but i need to finish writing it but why doesnât it flow and why is it not angsty enough and whereâŚwhere are my cigarettes where the fuck are my cigarettes
SYPNOSIS: caleb x non!mc, except x is a bit of a stretch. snippet of a much larger fic to come
âIs your wife always soâŚuptight?â You heard MC mumble.
You donât know how you found it in yourself to stay out of Calebâs business until now. Perhaps it was the blinding trust you had for this man, the strong, reliable colonel who had graciously married you, who had signed your marriage certificate with empty eyes. But deep down, you always knew.
From the day you came home from the courthouse, there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the alter (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MCâs favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.
That is, until now.
With your back pressed against the cold marble wall, you listened on to the conversation that Caleb was holding with MC in your living room, after an awkward dinner party to which Caleb had invited MC and her husband, Zayne, to attend.
âNo, sheâs justâŚâ You heard your husband began, an awkward silence stretching over the expanse of MCâs living room.
Iâm just what, Caleb?
ââŚsheâs just emotional, thatâs all.â
You heard MC snort. âEmotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonelâŚâ She sighed, âAnd I thought that, yâknow, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. Sheâs like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your âpipsqueakââŚâ Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.Â
âI thought maybe you found a better replacement.â
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.Â
âMCâŚnothing and nobody could ever replace you.â Caleb said gently, tightening his embrace.
They were silent for a long time. Tears had began to bead in your eyes.
âWellâŚon that happy noteâŚâ MC mumbled, her lips splitting into a wide smile, one hand coming to rest on her stomach, the other intertwining with Calebâs.
zayne x gn!reader, fluff, 0.6k wc, divider by @/miscellaneous-misty
God he's so vexing. He kept lecturing me about my sleeping schedule and screen time for twenty fucking minutes. Like Iâm sorry Dr Zayne not everyone can have a boring life like yours where they work their ass off and sleep as soon as they reach home, some people like to binge watch and stay updated on the new trends. Ugh he's unbearable. Sometimes I wish I could just kiss that pretty mouth of his shut-
Is what you said after you thought you hung up his call. You in fact did not hang up and now moving cities is suddenly a very tempting idea.
The urge is especially strong when you're standing outside his office for your routine checkup, staring at his door for an embarrassingly long time.
And before you could even gather up the courage to open it, the door swings open on its own and Zayne himself stands before you. "You're here. I thought you were unwell for how long it took you to open the door.â
âHow did you know I was outside?â
âYou heels make a particular sound.â
He gestures for you to come inside âOh. Ahem, okay.â You take your regular seat, folding your hands on your lap. It's alright. He's in a good mood. He probably didn't hear it. You are worrying over nothing. Just breathe.
"Vexing," he said, and your breathing halted.
He is looking directly at you. "That's what some people find me apparently." He opens your files, but his eyes never leave you. "Boring and unbearable" He turns the page with more force than needed. "Interesting choice of words, don't you think?.â
"I can explain-â
"You don't have to."
"No I really should because I didn't mean those words-â
"Didn't mean me to hear those words."
âNo, Zayne, I don't actually think you're vexing or unbearable, well maybe I do but not in a bad way. I mean you're a doctor, it's your duty to look after your patients. But as a friend turned patient iâm sometimes frustrated you only talk about my health when there's plenty of normal things we can talk about like-â He's still looking at you impassively and your mind goes completely blank. "Like the weather." You hear yourself say it and wanted to bang your head against the wall but continued anyway, âOr the latest shows, which you would know about if you didn't spend your entire day in the hospital. Or food or literally anything that doesn't include nagging me or maybe⌠maybe we should also be discussing how you should respect people's privacy, friend or patient and hang up the call as soon as you're do-â
You didn't notice him leaning across the desk and you definitely didn't notice when his lips crashed onto yours before you could register it.
The contact of his lips lasted enough to stop the sentence dead in your throat. He pulled back, his face unperturbed except his ears which were bright red. "You talk too much," he said.
You stare at him. What the fuck did just happen? "You kissed me to shut me up?"
"I'm impressed it actually worked." He looks back down at your file like nothing happened. "Your blood pressure was high last visit. We should look into that."
"ZAYNE, you stupid man! Explain yourself!"
He was barely concealing his amused smile, all while avoiding your eyes by fixing them on your report. "Perhaps I find you rather vexing too.â
SYPNOSIS: caleb x non!mc, except x is a bit of a stretch. snippet of a much larger fic to come
âIs your wife always soâŚuptight?â You heard MC mumble.
You donât know how you found it in yourself to stay out of Calebâs business until now. Perhaps it was the blinding trust you had for this man, the strong, reliable colonel who had graciously married you, who had signed your marriage certificate with empty eyes. But deep down, you always knew.
From the day you came home from the courthouse, there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the alter (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MCâs favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.
That is, until now.
With your back pressed against the cold marble wall, you listened on to the conversation that Caleb was holding with MC in your living room, after an awkward dinner party to which Caleb had invited MC and her husband, Zayne, to attend.
âNo, sheâs justâŚâ You heard your husband began, an awkward silence stretching over the expanse of MCâs living room.
Iâm just what, Caleb?
ââŚsheâs just emotional, thatâs all.â
You heard MC snort. âEmotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonelâŚâ She sighed, âAnd I thought that, yâknow, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. Sheâs like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your âpipsqueakââŚâ Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.Â
âI thought maybe you found a better replacement.â
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.Â
âMCâŚnothing and nobody could ever replace you.â Caleb said gently, tightening his embrace.
They were silent for a long time. Tears had began to bead in your eyes.
âWellâŚon that happy noteâŚâ MC mumbled, her lips splitting into a wide smile, one hand coming to rest on her stomach, the other intertwining with Calebâs.
yes my entire draft for caleb x non!mc got deleted that one time but the hardest part of writing this damn thing is actually finding a song to pair it with. lord there are so many angsty options.
GD FCKIDGN DAMMIT i just saw a post making caleb a dad of like eight sons and he drives around in a truck and heâs like a redneck and an all american dad they made him..heâsâŚheâŚ.
boyfriend!xavier likes to text you when he wakes up. he likes to text you before he goes to sleep. he has a whole plethora of silly cartoon âgoodnightâ stickers and âgood morningâ stickers saved on his phone that he sends you regardless of the time, so dont be surprised to receive a message at 10:30 am from xavier, bidding you a good night of sleep with an attatched gif of a koala hanging on a half moon.
boyfriend!xavier whoâs chat history with you is practically his digital diary. he likes to send you photos of the most random things he encounters. sometimes he provides very little context, but you donât suppose it needs any. sometimes he sneds you selfies that are so close up that his bangs are in the way of the camera. he also likes to send you photos of your dates with him as if you werenât present for them, or if it had been ages since the outing occurred.
xavi: (image) we looked so cute back thenâŚ
[name]: babe that was twenty minutes ago. you just dropped me off.
boyfriend!xavier who takes every tiktok you send him very seriously. sometimes a bit too seriously. when you sent him one of those âmissing my gf so i baked her into a cookieâ videos, he sent you back an actual photo of a burnt tray of suspiciously you-shaped gingerbreads. theres a small fire in the background. before you could even reply, too aghast to comment, he started munching on one.
âitâs a bit saltyâŚâ
âXAVIER YOUâRE CHEWING ON MOUTHFULS OF ASH!â
boyfriend!xavier who actually prefers to be next to you and watch you in your sleep, in turn to sleeping himself. not in a creepy way, but he canât resist but admire your sleeping face, so calm, so relaxedâŚhe cant help but to reach out a finger and squish your cheeks while youâre smushed up against him anyway. he cuddles you closer and buries his face in your neck, pulling the duvet covers over you both, like an arctic hare burrowing into the snow.
boyfriend!xavier whoâs favourite sound to fall asleep to is either your voice (if youâre awake and willing) or the sounds of your shared home. he finds the sounds of water bubbling to a boil especially soothing, although you tease him that he only likes it because it sounds like a steaming bowl of beef hot pot, his favourite. he doesnât admit that really, the sound of you flicking on the kettle, you turning on the tap, you boiling the water, you pouring the steaming liquid out, you rattling the teacupâŚis what affirms him of your presence. he likes such mundane, ordinary sounds because it assures him that youâre there, youâre by him, and youâre safe.
boyfriend!xavier whoâs favourite form of messaging from you is either big paragraphs of text, or long chains of voice recordings. they feel so intimate to him, and he loves to read or listen to your ramblings. thereâs still so much he wants to learn from you. plus, thereâs nothing he loves more than the sound of your voice.
and of course, xavier responds to every single one of your texts and calls and voicemails, but why this timeâ
[sorry. the number youâve dialed has been disconnected]
oh. right.
youâve been dead for well over a year now. he knew the phone company would shut down your service eventually.
xavier rubs the sleep from his eyes. ever since your absence, your home has grown to become so empty. there are dishes undone in the sink from the last meal you ever made him. windows coated with dust. beds unmade. what the morgue sent him, still on the table. he couldnât bear to do anything about it.
and nowâŚa phone that xavier can no longer call you and leave you tearful voicemails on. a number that he canât text you day and night to, with messages that heâll know you canât respond to but there are so many things he aches to tell you. a service he can no longer call to tell you that âi miss youâ.
xavier throws his phone into the overflowing sink.
HAHA GREAT IDEA @erenophilic i will remember to include our dear husbands destroying their homes and using destructive coping methods and turning to desperation to replace our empty presence in the event of our death in my future fics
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