Thanks to Berri (https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk), I've decided to create a masterlist.
Age: I'm born in 1984; do the maths chat.
One Shots (Blue Lock)
One Shots, Series (Genshin Impact)
Boundaries: A Blue Lock/Sailor Moon Mini Series
Threads of Fate Masterlist (Sailor Moon)
Threads of Fate Masterlist (Main Storyline)
Love And Deepspace X Sailor Moon
Threads of Fate:
LADS Timeline (Preteen)
Zayne: Chapter 1
Birthday one shots: Zayne (Updated as of 13rd Jan 2026)
Reader eating apples during her pregnancy because her mother told her eating apples while pregnant will result in a fair-skinned baby.
Cue Rafayel calling his new daughter 'Snow White' because of her fair skin.
rafayel is a big fan of fairytales in my head, so he will get all the cute references 🥺
Hello, how are you? I read the story of Valko and the Reader (not mc) THE ORCHID AND THE WOLF and thought it was beautiful! The way you wrote about the couple was super sweet and the story caught me too much... So can I place a request for you?
If it's not uncomfortable, could you write a bonus chapter? I'd love to see a little more of their love life after everything that's happened in the story, you know? Like, romantic moments between husband and wife, lots of kisses and something suggestive (but that's all) about this beautiful love story.
Please, if I accept my order, I will be very happy! Thank you.
Author’s Note: So, even before I found this request I had these ideas/headcanons written down just in case I wanted to expand the story further. 😅 I'll admit that I'm feeling too overwhelmed and lazy to write a whole chapter 🫠 , so please accept this instead. 🙏 I may revisit this fic in the future and write the chapter properly. 🤷♀️ But, no promises. 😶
Content: A list of headcanons that happen after the events of part 2
Part 1 Part 2
Epilogue:
THE ORCHID AND THE WOLF
Miranda & Elizabeth
True to their nature, Miranda and Elizabeth refuse to take the easy way out.
Instead of honoring your father's will, they force the matter into court.
They try everything to escape the consequences - lies, manipulation, blackmail, bribery, even arranging multiple attempts on your life and trying to flee the country before the trial concludes.
None of it works.
Justice finally catches up with them.
Both are sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.
At long last, your father's final wishes are honored, and everything that rightfully belongs to you is returned.
The Family Manor
The manor remains a place filled with both happy memories and painful ones.
Rather than move back in, you choose to continue living with Valko.
The manor becomes a place you occasionally visit - a second home where you can remember your parents.
None of the staff lose their jobs.
They remain in the home they have faithfully cared for for decades.
The Vacation Homes
The holiday homes in WhiteSand Bay and SnowCrest are too beautiful to sit empty.
You decide to rent them out as vacation properties throughout the year.
Whenever you and Valko need a break from work, you simply block out the dates and escape there yourselves.
Valko's Family
For the first time, you finally meet Valko's family.
His grandmother.
His aunt.
His cousins.
Every single one welcomes you with open arms.
Not as Valko's wife...
But as family.
As part of the pack.
Your Father's Company
With Miranda gone, ownership of your father's company finally returns to you.
The responsibility is overwhelming.
Many nights are spent buried in paperwork, learning everything your father once carried on his shoulders.
Thankfully, you are never alone.
Valko and Secretary Kim stand beside you every step of the way.
The Honeymoon
In the end, you decide not to have another wedding.
The first one may not have been perfect, but it is still part of your story.
Instead, you go on the honeymoon you never had.
Two unforgettable weeks in Hawaii.
It becomes the beginning of countless adventures together.
Whether it's a spontaneous weekend getaway, a short road trip, or a holiday halfway across the world, the two of you make it a tradition to discover somewhere new together every year.
Secretary Kim
Reserved as ever, Secretary Kim rarely speaks about his personal life.
So imagine your surprise when one day he invites you and Valko over for dinner.
There, you discover he is actually ten years older than Valko - despite looking much younger.
He has a loving wife and two energetic sons, both on the verge of their teenage years.
Years later, after graduating, both boys proudly join your father's company, continuing the close bond between your two families.
Your Family
You and Valko spend several years simply enjoying married life together before deciding you're ready to grow your family.
Fifteen years later, your home is filled with love and laughter.
Your eldest daughter, Rose, is a spitting image of Valko.
While your second child, a son named Henry, named in honor of your late father, is a perfect blend of the both of you.
Much to your amusement, both Rose and Henry inherit Valko's wolf traits.
And now, another little one is on the way.
Of course, Tara proudly claims the title of "Aunt Tara."
Valko couldn't be happier.
Neither could you.
Happiness isn't defined by how a story starts.
It's defined by the people who choose to keep writing it together.
Just imagine...
Us cooling off on Sea God!Rafayel's tail on a blistering summer afternoon.
that's perfect actually!!!! he definitely runs cold, his tail fantastically retaining the low temperature 🐟🐟
so feel free to lounge on it, he's more than happy to help you cool down 🧡
(also, just imagine sea god! raf as a beach floaty — he is on his back, just floating, and you're on his tail, enjoying the calm sea, his cool scales, and the gentle rays of the sun 👀)
Synopsis: After catching your boyfriend in bed with your stepsister, you think your life can't possibly get any worse.
You're wrong.
Blackmailed into a forced marriage with a complete stranger, you expect nothing more than a loveless relationship.
Instead, as resentment slowly gives way to trust and affection blossoms, you discover that fate may have chosen you long before you ever had a choice.
Pairing: Valko x (Female) reader/non-MC
Content: All "in-game" information about Valko is considered canon, with the exception of his evol ability and the existence of wanderers.
Trigger warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Forced Proximity (Forced Marriage), Fated Mates, Cheating (not Valko - don't worry), Mentions of Blackmail and Manipulation, Suggestive Content (Non-Graphic), and Mentions of Death (Non-Graphic)
Word count : 7,568
Link to part 1
Part 2 of 2
THE ORCHID AND THE WOLF
Valko sits at his office desk on the top floor of the EonCore Tech building.
A knock sounds at the door before his secretary, Kim, steps inside with a tablet in hand.
“Mr. Valko, I have news regarding your wife's background,” he says.
Valko gestures toward the chair opposite his desk.
Secretary Kim sits and opens the file on his tablet.
“At the age of four, your wife's mother passed away from cancer. Her father, Henry, raised her on his own until he married Madam Miranda. They remained married for only four years before Henry passed away two years ago.”
Valko nods silently. He can't help but feel sorry for you for losing both parents.
“Madam Miranda is... an interesting woman,” Secretary Kim continues.
Valko's attention sharpens.
“Your wife's father, Henry, was her fourth husband.”
“Is she collecting them?” Valko remarks, raising an eyebrow.
Secretary Kim ignores the comment and continues.
“Her first marriage was at the age of eighteen when she eloped with her childhood sweetheart. He died a year later from a drug overdose.”
“Two years later, she married the CEO of a successful company, the biological father of her only child, Miss Elizabeth. They remained married for twelve years before he was killed in a drunk driving accident.”
“Another two years passed before she married a wealthy businessman. That marriage lasted five years before ending in divorce.”
“Two years after that, she married your wife's father. At the time, Madam Miranda was more than a decade younger than Mr. Henry.”
Valko leans back in his chair.
“It would seem Miranda hasn't had much luck in love,” he murmurs. “She's buried three husbands.”
“What was the cause of Mr. Henry's death? Was there any indication of foul play?” he asks carefully.
“A heart attack,” Secretary Kim replies. “I understand your suspicion, but according to his medical records, he'd been suffering from heart disease for several years due to chronic stress and overwork. He had already experienced a heart attack the previous year.”
Valko nods slowly.
“As for the financial situation,” Secretary Kim continues, “Madam Miranda was already wealthy before marrying Mr. Henry. She inherited all of her second husband's assets after his death and later received half of her third husband's estate through their divorce settlement.”
Valko hums thoughtfully.
“After Mr. Henry's passing, she also inherited all of his assets - his bank accounts, properties, and even his company.”
“So my wife really doesn't receive a single penny,” Valko says in disbelief.
“Correct,” Secretary Kim confirms.
“It was carried out according to Mr. Henry's will.”
Secretary Kim pauses before looking up from his tablet.
“However... this is where things become interesting.”
“Although Mr. Henry had his own lawyer representing both himself and his daughter, the will wasn’t read by his attorney. Instead, it was presented by Madam Miranda's lawyer.”
Valko raises an eyebrow.
“Do we know why?”
“Not yet. I'm currently trying to arrange a meeting with Mr. Henry's lawyer.”
Secretary Kim scrolls further down the report.
“There's something else I find unusual.”
“Madam Y/N believes the apartment she lived in was a rental.”
“Yes,” Valko replies. “She told me Miranda had been paying her living expenses.”
“She was deceived.”
Secretary Kim's tone grows noticeably firmer.
“Mr. Henry purchased that apartment a few years before Madam Y/N began college. It was originally registered in his name, but around the time she turned eighteen, he legally transferred ownership to her.”
Kim looks up.
“After Mr. Henry died, ownership of the apartment was transferred to Miss Elizabeth.”
Valko frowns.
“It doesn't end there.”
Secretary Kim continues reading.
“Around the same time Mr. Henry transferred ownership of the apartment, he also transferred a bank account into Madam Y/N's name. However, following his death, every cent from that account was transferred into an unknown account.”
“There was also a vehicle that was registered in Madam Y/N's name before ownership was later transferred to Miss Elizabeth.”
Valko's eyes narrow.
“So let me get this straight.”
He counts each point on his fingers.
“Mr. Henry transferred an apartment, a bank account, and a car to my wife when she turned eighteen. Yet after his death, the apartment and car ended up in Elizabeth's name, while the money disappeared into an unknown account.”
“That's correct, sir.”
Valko falls silent for a long moment.
“Even a fool can tell something is wrong here. We need to see the contents of that will. Arrange a meeting with Miranda's lawyer.”
“I would advise against that, sir,” Secretary Kim says.
“We have no legal standing to request access to the will, and the lawyer would almost certainly inform Madam Miranda that someone is investigating her affairs. It would only make her suspicious.”
Valko sighs.
His secretary is right.
“Then arrange a meeting with Mr. Henry's lawyer instead. In the meantime, keep digging.”
“Understood.”
Secretary Kim hesitates before asking one final question.
“What about Madam Y/N? Should we tell her what we've discovered?”
Valko shakes his head.
“Not yet. Let's keep this between us. I don't want to burden her with bad news until we know all the facts.”
…
You stand in front of the towering EonCore Tech headquarters, the company Valko owns and runs.
Your classes ended unexpectedly early after one of your professors had a personal emergency. Instead of heading home, you stopped by a bakery to pick up two hot chocolates and a box of brownies before deciding to surprise Valko at work.
As you step into the grand lobby, two women behind the reception desk greet you with polite smiles.
“Good afternoon, Miss. How may we help you?” the younger receptionist with blonde hair asks.
“I'm here to see Valko,” you say, placing the box of brownies on the counter beside you.
She blinks.
“Are you referring to Chairman Valko?” she asks for confirmation.
You nod.
“May I have your name? And do you have an appointment?”
“I don't,” you admit.
You hadn't told Valko you were coming. It had simply been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
The receptionist offers an apologetic smile.
“I'm sorry, Miss, but all visitors must have a scheduled appointment.”
“My name is Y/N,” you say, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm his wife.”
The receptionist's polite smile fades.
“Chairman Valko is unmarried.”
“I'm not sure what you're trying to accomplish by making such a claim, but I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave the premises.”
“Could you please just call him?” you ask politely. “Or, if he's unavailable, call Secretary Kim.”
“Miss,” the receptionist says coldly, “I'm going to ask you one last time to leave.”
“I really am his wife,” you insist, almost pouting. “I can prove it.”
Balancing the hot chocolates in one hand, you fumble through your bag with the other.
After marrying Valko, you took his surname. Every one of your identification documents reflects that.
“Excuse me, Miss.”
A deep voice speaks from behind you.
Turning around, you find a uniformed security guard standing only a few feet away.
“This is private property,” he says firmly. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Please,” you reply. “This is clearly just a miscommunication. Give me one moment. If you won't call him, then I'll call him myself.”
You reach into your pocket for your phone.
Before you can retrieve it, the security guard grabs your wrist.
“If asking nicely isn't enough,” he says, “I'll escort you out.”
He begins pulling you toward the entrance.
“Let go of me!”
You struggle against his grip.
The cups slip from your hand.
Hot chocolate splashes across the front of your blouse.
You gasp sharply as the scalding liquid soaks through the fabric.
“What is going on here?”
The familiar voice cuts through the lobby like thunder.
Valko strides across the marble floor.
His darken gaze lands on the security guard's hand still wrapped around your wrist.
“Unhand my wife.”
The security guard immediately releases you as though he'd been burned.
“M-Mr. Valko…” he stammers. “Did... did you just call this woman your wife?”
Valko doesn't even spare him a glance.
He shrugs off his suit jacket and gently drapes it over your shoulders.
Without a word, he places a protective hand on your back and guides you toward the elevator.
As the two of you pass the reception desk, the blond haired receptionist is already standing with her head bowed.
“My deepest apologies, Chairman,” she says nervously. “We had no idea you were married.”
Valko doesn't acknowledge her apology.
Instead, he looks toward Secretary Kim.
“You know what to do.”
The elevator doors slide shut behind you, leaving the lobby in suffocating silence.
…
A long silence stretches between the two of you before you finally speak.
“I'm sorry,” you say quietly. “I shouldn't have come without telling you first.”
“It's my fault,” Valko replies immediately. “I should have informed the front desk about you. Better yet, I should have given you a clearance card with full access to the building.”
He offers you an apologetic smile as the elevator doors slide open.
He opens the door to his office, allowing you to enter first before quietly closing it behind you.
As you take in the spacious office, Valko walks over to a cupboard and opens it.
“Why are you here anyway?”, he asks. “Did something happen? Aren't you supposed to have classes?”
“They were cancelled,” you reply.
“So I thought I'd surprise you with some... treats.”
You glance down at the large brown stain covering the front of your blouse.
“I missed you.”
The words are barely above a whisper, but Valko hears them.
You missed him.
His mate missed him.
A smile spreads across his face.
“Here.”
He holds out a black button-up shirt.
“You can change in the bathroom.”
He gestures toward the frosted glass door in the corner of his office.
You thank him, take the shirt, and disappear inside.
A few minutes later, you step back into the office.
Valko is seated in one of the armchairs beside the coffee table.
The moment he looks up, he freezes.
His shirt hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves rolled to your forearms while one side slips off one shoulder.
Without warning, his soft wolf ears appear atop his head.
A fluffy tail follows, swishing happily behind him.
“Seeing you wearing my clothes got me excited.” He mutters, cheeks turning pink.
A mischievous grin tugs at your lips.
“Were you imagining bending me over your desk?”
A low growl rumbles in his throat.
“Don't tempt me.”
Now it's your turn to blush.
He makes a mental note that this shirt is never going into the laundry again.
You quickly change the subject.
“What's all this?”
You point toward the collection of chocolate bars piled on the coffee table alongside two mugs of hot chocolate.
“My stash,” Valko says proudly. “Help yourself.”
“I'm honestly surprised your office doesn't have a chocolate fountain.”
“That's... actually a brilliant idea.”
You shake your head with an amused chuckle.
The laughter fades into a comfortable silence.
After a moment, Valko's expression turns serious.
“Flower…”
“May I ask you something... personal?”
Only yesterday, after returning from a wellness getaway with your friend Tara, you learned his secret - that he is a wolf hybrid.
He was so open and vulnerable, wearing his heart on his sleeve, that you want to do the same.
“Sure,” you say with a warm smile. “Ask me anything.”
“How did your father meet Miranda?” He asks. “He raised you on his own for so many years.”
“It surprised me,” you admit. “One evening, he told me we were having guests over for dinner. That's when he introduced Miranda and Elizabeth... then announced they were getting married.”
You shake your head at the memory.
“I didn't even know he was seeing anyone.”
“Did he ever tell you why he decided to suddenly remarry?” Valko asks.
“I don't think it was because of love,” you reply with a small shrug. “More... respect, maybe. Besides, it wasn’t my place to question his decision and he seemed happy.”
“Why did your father decide to leave everything to her?”
You think for a moment
“I assumed he wrote his will while I was still underage,” you say. “As his wife, and the only other adult in the household besides Elizabeth - it probably seemed easier to leave everything in her care.”
You pause before continuing.
“I remember him telling me he always felt guilty that I grew up without a mother. He hoped Miranda would become a mother figure to me.”
A grimace crosses your face.
“Besides, Miranda was very involved in the company from the beginning of the marriage. It makes sense that he'd want her to take over.”
Valko falls silent.
There are so many more questions he wants to ask.
But he can't risk making you suspicious. If he keeps pressing, you'll inevitably wonder why he's suddenly so interested in your family's affairs.
He isn't ready to tell you he's conducting his own investigation behind your back.
Clearing his throat, he changes the subject.
“By the way,” he says casually, “I noticed you used the card I gave you. You made quite a large purchase at an art supply store.”
Your face pales.
“I'm sorry,” you blurt out. “I promise I'll pay you back.”
Valko blinks.
“That's not what I meant.”
“I gave you that card so you'd use it. We're married. What's mine is yours.”
He smiles.
“I was just curious what you plan to do with all those art supplies."”
You let out a relieved sigh.
“I like painting,” you admit. “It's been my hobby for years. Now that I don't have a part-time job anymore, and I finally have some free time, I want to start painting again.”
“You paint?” Valko repeats, surprised.
“I don't remember seeing any paintings or art supplies at your apartment.”
“That's because I left everything at the family manor,” you explain. “My apartment was too small to store everything, and between university, studying, and work, I never have time to paint anyway.”
“I see.”
Valko nods thoughtfully.
“I'd love to see your paintings.”
You smile sheepishly.
“I'm not a professional. It's just a hobby.”
Valko's phone chimes.
He pulls it from his pocket, glances at the screen, and lets out a groan before silencing the notification.
“I'm sorry,” he says regretfully. “I need to prepare for a meeting.”
You nod in understanding and begin gathering your things.
“Before you go…”
Valko reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small velvet jewelry box.
“I was planning to give this to you at home,” he says, “but since you're already here…”
He places it in your hands.
Curious, you lift the lid.
Your breath catches.
Nestled inside is a delicate pair of earrings.
Not just any earrings.
The exact same earrings your father gave you for your birthday several years ago.
“How...?” you whisper.
You look up at Valko.
“I knew they weren't just jewelry,” Valko says.
“So I tracked down the exact pair.”
Your eyes widen.
“You mean…”
“They're the originals,” he confirms proudly. “I just had them professionally cleaned and polished. They'd accumulated a little wear over the years.”
A tear slips silently down your cheek.
You throw yourself into his arms.
Your arms wrap tightly around his neck.
“Thank you,” you whisper against his shoulder over and over.
Valko closes his arms around you, holding you close.
Feeling your emotions of happiness made every bit of effort worthwhile.
——————————————————————
Valko's car comes to a stop in front of the iron gates guarding your family manor.
He introduces himself through the intercom, and a few moments later, the heavy gates slowly swing open, granting him access to the long driveway.
Judging by the exterior alone, the manor is elegant without being ostentatious. It has an old-world charm that feels warm rather than extravagant.
Before Valko even reaches the front door, it opens.
“Welcome, Mr. Valko.”
The butler bows respectfully, stepping aside to allow Valko, Secretary Kim, and the three men accompanying them to enter.
“Mr. Valko, what a wonderful surprise.”
A woman around his age gracefully descends the staircase, her elegant dress swaying with each step.
She stops in front of him and offers a bright, practiced smile.
“Do you remember me? I'm Elizabeth, Miranda's daughter.”
“What brings you to our humble home?”
Her scent reaches him before her words do.
Sweet.
Far too sweet.
“I'm sorry for arriving unannounced,” Valko says politely, adopting the calm, professional demeanor he reserves for business clients. “I wasn't certain anyone would be home.”
“I've come to collect some of my wife's belongings.”
“Her paintings, to be precise.”
Elizabeth tilts her head.
“I'm afraid I don't know anything about that.”
“I believe Mr. Valko is referring to Miss Y/N's - pardon me, Mrs. Y/N's - art studio,” the butler interjects from the side. “It was closed shortly after she left for college.”
Elizabeth shoots him a sharp look.
“Oh…”
She lets out a soft laugh.
“Now I remember.”
She smiles innocently.
“The room has been closed for so many years that it completely slipped my mind.”
The butler leads the group through the manor's winding corridors, passing countless doors along the way.
Elizabeth walks beside Valko, making idle conversation.
He barely listens.
Eventually, the butler stops in front of a door and unlocks it.
As it swings open, a spacious art studio comes into view.
“The maids have kept the room clean,” the butler explains. “Otherwise, nothing has been touched.”
The room is spotless, without a trace of dust.
“Pack everything you can,” Valko instructs.
“The paintings are the priority. Handle them carefully.”
The men immediately get to work.
Elizabeth folds her arms.
“To think Y/N would send you all this way for a few worthless paintings,” she says with a dramatic sigh.
“Then again, that's just like her. She's always been such a nuisance.”
Valko's expression noticeably darkens, but before he can say anything, a quiet cough from Secretary Kim stops him.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Valko says pleasantly, “why don't you keep me company elsewhere while my men work?”
He gestures politely toward the hallway, inviting her to step out.
…
The moment Valko and Elizabeth disappear around the corner, Secretary Kim takes it as his cue to begin searching the manor.
After all, retrieving Madam Y/N's paintings isn't the only reason they're here.
The visit also gives him the opportunity to look around the home where Valko's wife grew up and, if possible, speak with the household staff.
As luck would have it, he soon finds the butler.
“May I ask how long you've worked here?” Secretary Kim asks.
“For thirty years,” the butler replies. “Most of the staff have served this family for decades. Even after the late master's passing, may he rest in peace, we chose to remain.”
“How would you describe the relationship between the late master and his daughter?”
“He adored her.”
There isn't a moment's hesitation.
“He and his wife were blessed with her later in life. After his wife passed away, Miss Y/N became his entire world.”
A fond look crosses his face.
“Despite being raised like a princess, she never became spoiled. She has always had a kind and gentle heart.”
“I understand she doesn’t have the best relationship with her stepmother and stepsister.”
The warmth disappears from the butler's expression.
“Madam Miranda and Miss Elizabeth are parasites.”
"Whenever the master wasn't around, they treated Miss Y/N with cold indifference.
He lowers his voice.
“No one in this house is particularly fond of either of them. We remain because this has been our home for many years.”
His shoulders sag slightly.
“Things only become worse after the master's death.”
He looks at Secretary Kim hopefully.
“How is she? None of us has seen her since the funeral. Madam Miranda forbade her from ever returning to the manor.”
“Mrs. Y/N is doing well,” Secretary Kim assures him. "Mr. Valko takes very good care of her.’
Relief washes over the butler's face.
He hesitates before continuing.
“When I first heard about the marriage, I was shocked.”
“Later, I overheard it was an arranged marriage... more of a business arrangement.”
Secretary Kim neither confirms nor denies the statement.
Instead, he steers the conversation back to the matter at hand.
“Have you ever witnessed or overheard anything else that struck you as unusual?”
The butler sighs.
“Madam Miranda is a calculating woman.”
“If she's plotting something, she makes certain it happens behind the closed doors of her office. She never discusses important matters where the staff might overhear.”
“Can you show me her office?”
The butler shakes his head.
“I'm afraid it wouldn't help.”
“The room is secured with both a passcode and Madam Miranda's fingerprint. No one else has access, not even Miss Elizabeth.”
Secretary Kim sighs inwardly.
He never expected this investigation to be straightforward.
“One last question.”
He glances toward the corridor, aware that Valko and Elizabeth could return at any moment.
"”In the days leading up to Mr. Henry's death - or shortly afterward - did either Mr. Henry's lawyer or Madam Miranda's lawyer visit the manor?”
The butler thinks for a moment.
“The late master's lawyer? No.”
“But if memory serves me correctly…. a few days after the master's passing, Madam Miranda met with her own lawyer at his office.”
——————————————————————
The moment Valko walks through the front door of your now-shared home, he is hit by a storm of emotions through the mate bond.
Anger.
Sadness.
Distress.
He follows the overwhelming emotions until he finds you in the living room.
You sit curled up in the corner of the sofa, your knees pulled tightly against your chest, your arms wrapped around them as you bury your face.
“Flower?”
He crosses the room in hurried strides and kneels in front of you.
“What's wrong? What happened?”
“They know.”
Your voice is barely audible, muffled against your knees.
“They found out.”
You slowly lift your head.
“Now everyone at university knows I'm married.”
“Is that really such a bad thing?” he asks, genuinely confused.
You slowly lift your head and meet his gaze.
“It's not the marriage that's the problem," you say quietly. "It's everything that comes after.”
You begin listing the questions one after another, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“'I had no idea you were in a relationship.'”
“'Why did you get married so young?'”
“'What's your husband like?'”
“Oh... and my personal favorite.”
“'How did you two meet?'”
“Do you have any idea how humiliating it is knowing I can't answer a single one of those questions honestly?”
You shove past him, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to force him to catch his balance as you spring to your feet.
“Oh, you know…” you say, your voice rising. “I am a twenty-year-old orphan and third-year university student who was forced into a marriage as part of a business deal. My husband just so happens to be a werewolf who only married me because I'm his fated mate.”
Valko can only stare.
The words sting because they're true.
You continue before he gets the chance to respond.
“Before you came into my life, I had just found out my boyfriend of two years was cheating on me.”
“With none other than my beloved stepsister, Elizabeth.”
You let out a hollow laugh.
“The worst part? He'd been cheating on me for almost our entire relationship. He just didn't have the gits to end things.”
“And the only reason he ever dated me…” Your voice cracks. “...was because of my father's money.”
You wipe your eyes.
“I barely have time to come to terms with everything,” you say, your voice fading into a whisper. “Before I could even begin to heal... I was married off.”
Valko wasn’t naive enough to had expected to be your first love.
But hearing how thoroughly you'd been betrayed...
How cruelly you'd been used...
It makes rage simmer beneath his skin.
He slowly rises to his feet and carefully takes a few steps towards you.
“I know our relationship doesn't have the kind of beginning either of us would have chosen,” Valko says quietly. “There isn't a romantic first meeting. No courtship. No fairy-tale wedding.”
He lowers his gaze.
“If I could change the way we met... I would.”
He looks back at you, his expression unwavering.
His tone is gentle but resolute.
“I don't want our past to define us. I want us to build something real together.”
You swallow hard before voicing the question that has been weighing on your mind.
“Be honest... if I weren't your mate - if there weren't some biological bond drawing you to me - would your words, your actions, your feelings toward me still be the same?”
“If we happened to pass each other on the street... would you even glance at me?”
Your vision blurs with unshed tears.
Valko's entire body goes rigid.
The question strikes him harder than any blow ever could.
Do you truly believe his feelings are nothing more than instinct?
Do you really think so little of his sincerity?
He opens his mouth to answer.
Nothing comes out.
Valko is left utterly speechless.
Looking away, you turn and walk out of the living room.
Your footsteps echo through the house as you slowly make your way upstairs, leaving Valko standing exactly where he is.
——————————————————————
A few days pass after the conversation in the living room.
Valko feels like a kicked puppy.
Lost.
Defeated.
You've reverted to avoiding him, just like you did when you first moved into the manor after the marriage.
Gone are the shared breakfasts.
Gone are the light conversations during the drive to your university.
Gone are the romantic dates.
Gone are the movie nights spent debating what to watch.
Whenever the two of you cross paths in the manor, neither of you knows how to bridge the distance or what to say.
Valko refuses to let this continue.
He's given you space.
Now it's time to make things right.
As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words.
His kind has always expressed themselves through actions more than words.
…
Valko knocks on your bedroom door, which you've left half open.
You're sitting at your desk with your back to him, hunched over your notes.
Your bachelor's graduation is just around the corner.
“Flower,” he says softly. “Sorry to interrupt your studying, but could you come with me for a moment?”
You don't meet his eyes, but you don't hesitate either.
Silently, you stand and follow him down the hallway.
He stops in front of a door and opens it.
Stepping aside, he lets you enter first.
The moment you step inside, your eyes widen.
The room has been transformed into an art studio.
One that reminds you of the studio you left behind at the family manor.
You slowly walk farther into the room, taking in every detail.
“I thought that if you're going to start painting again, you deserve a space where you can do it comfortably,” Valko says as he comes to stand beside you.
Your gaze drifts to the paintings lining the walls.
You recognize every single one.
“My paintings…”
“I stopped by your family manor to collect them,” Valko says with a smile.
“I've been putting this room together for a while now. Sorry it took so long. I don't know the first thing about art, but I wanted it to be perfect.”
He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Listen, Flower…”
His voice turns serious.
“I'm sorry about the other day,”
“My kind processes emotions differently than humans do. I... needed time to understand your point of view.”
He raises a finger.
“But let me make one thing perfectly clear.”
“I'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that my love for you goes far beyond instinct.”
You turn to face him and hold his gaze.
“I'm the one at fault.”
“I let other people's opinions make me lose sight of everything you've done for me since the very beginning.”
“I won't let that happen again.”
“And from this day forward, I'll put just as much effort into this relationship as you have.”
You step forward and gently wrap your arms around his waist.
“Thank you.”
“I can't wait to create new paintings here.”
You look up at him with a bright smile.
Without warning, Valko's wolf ears pop out.
A fluffy tail appears behind him, wagging uncontrollably.
He really has no control over his transformations around you anymore.
A laugh escapes your lips.
“I want to do something in return,” you say as you let him go. “I need a way to thank you.”
Valko pretends to think.
“Hmm…”
“How about you teach me how to paint?"
A mischievous glint sparkles in your eyes.
“Sure.”
“Your tail will make an excellent paintbrush.”
——————————————————————
Valko and Secretary Kim enter a spacious office.
The man seated behind the desk immediately stands and greets them, shaking both their hands before introducing himself.
“Mr. Lind.”
He gestures toward the chairs opposite his desk.
“Please, have a seat.”
Finally, they have managed to meet with your late father's lawyer.
They can only hope this conversation provides the answers they need.
“Mr. Valko, Mr. Kim. A pleasure to meet you both. How can I assist you?” Mr. Lind asks, placing his hands neatly on his desk.
“I am here because you were my wife, Y/N's, and her father's lawyer,” Valko explains.
“So Y/N is married now,” Mr. Lind says with a smile. “How time flies.”
“Congratulations, by the way.”
A brief pause.
“Please tell me you aren't here on behalf of a divorce.”
Valko shakes his head.
“No. I'm here to ask a few questions regarding the will her father left behind.”
Mr. Lind leans back in his chair.
“I'm sorry, but even as her husband, I'm not permitted to discuss such matters with you.”
“We understand,” Secretary Kim says smoothly. “However, would you be willing to answer a few questions that don't compromise your professional obligations?”
Mr. Lind considers this before leaning forward again.
“What would you like to know?”
“It has been two years since Henry's passing. He was a good friend of mine. We had known each other since college.”
“Despite being his lawyer, you were not the one who read the will or handled the processing of it. Is that correct?” Valko asks.
Mr. Lind sighs.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
A hint of discomfort crosses the lawyer's face.
“At the time, I was under suspicion of accepting payments on the side to carry out unethical work. The firm placed me under suspension until the investigation was completed.”
He folds his hands together.
“During that period, all of my active cases were reassigned to other lawyers. Henry's will was ultimately handled by Madam Miranda's lawyer.”
“Why did the firm suspect you of being involved in such activities?” Secretary Kim asks curiously.
“False rumors and fabricated evidence,” Mr. Lind answers.
“The investigation cleared my name within a few weeks, and I was allowed to return to work. Unfortunately, they never discovered who was responsible or the reason behind such an attack.”
He shrugs slightly.
“The assumption was that it may have been the work of a rival.”
He pauses.
“If only it hadn't happened around the same time as Henry's death.”
His expression turns somber.
“I couldn't even attend his funeral. It was a private ceremony, and I wasn't invited. I paid my respects several days later.”
Valko and Secretary Kim exchange a glance.
The timing is far too convenient.
A respected lawyer suddenly suspended.
A will transferred into the hands of Miranda's lawyer.
And a funeral where Henry's closest legal representative isn't even invited.
Something about this doesn't add up.
“Were you the one who drafted Mr. Henry's will?” Valko asks.
“Yes,” Mr. Lind confirms. “I handled all of his legal affairs.”
“But you did not handle any of Madam Miranda's or Miss Elizabeth's legal matters?”
“Correct.” He nods. “They have their own lawyer. Thankfully, that meant I could leave the processing of the will in his hands when I was unavailable.”
“Did Mr. Henry make any changes to his will shortly before his passing?” Secretary Kim asks.
“No.”
The answer comes without hesitation.
“I cannot disclose the contents of the will, but I can tell you the last time Henry made any changes was one year after his marriage to Miranda.”
He pauses.
“At that time, he requested that I include his wife and his stepdaughter in the will. Before that, the only person named was Y/N, as she was his only living family member.”
Mr. Lind studies them carefully.
“I'm sorry, but may I ask why you're asking these questions? If Y/N has discovered an issue regarding the contents of the will, then you need to speak with the lawyer who processed it.”
Valko leans forward.
“I'm asking because I have been informed that, according to the will, Mr. Henry left everything to Miranda while my wife was left with nothing.”
His voice remains calm, but firm.
“Not only that, but several assets that were previously under my wife's name shortly either disappeared or were transferred to her stepsister, Elizabeth.”
He pauses.
“I never had the opportunity to meet Mr. Henry while he was alive, but from everything I have learned about him, I find it difficult to believe he would knowingly leave his daughter with nothing.”
The expression on Mr. Lind's face changes instantly into one of pure shock
“That can't be right.”
“See for yourself.”
Secretary Kim places the tablet on the desk and slides it toward him.
Mr. Lind picks it up and silently reads through the documents.
The longer he reads, the more his expression changes.
“This…”
“This is wrong.”
He places the tablet down.
“The assets you mentioned…”
His brows furrow.
“I'm the one who transferred them into Y/N's name. Henry instructed me to do so when she reached legal age.”
He shakes his head.
“They weren’t even included in the will because they already legally belonged to her.”
Mr. Lind looks back at the documents.
“The apartment, for example, should never have gone to Miss Elizabeth unless Y/N sold it to her or willingly transferred ownership.”
“According to these records, neither happened.”
“That's why we're here,” Valko says. “We need answers.”
Mr. Lind looks at him.
“Have you spoken to Y/N about this?”
“I did,” Valko replies. “But it appears her father never told her that he had transferred these assets into her name.”
“For example, she was led to believe that she was living at the apartment as a tenant.”
Mr. Lind's expression darkens.
He stands and walks toward a locked cabinet.
After entering the code, he opens one of the drawers and scans the neatly organized files arranged alphabetically.
A few moments later, he pulls out a folder.
“I shouldn't be doing this…”
His voice carries a hint of guilt.
“But this is a copy of Henry's will.”
He places it on the table.
Valko and Secretary Kim immediately open the file.
Their eyes widen as they read through the document.
“This is the copy you provided to Madam Miranda's lawyer?”
Secretary Kim looks up, needing confirmation.
Mr. Lind nods slowly.
——————————————————————
The moment you step onto the stage to receive your degree, Valko immediately jumps to his feet.
He claps and whistles as loudly as he can.
He doesn't care if he's embarrassing himself.
From the stage, you look over and can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
Once the ceremony ends, Valko makes his way through the crowd and pulls you into his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around.
“You did it! Congratulations!”
His voice is filled with pure pride.
You laugh, growing dizzy until he finally sets you back down.
“I made reservations for tonight,” he says. “Do you have any plans?”
“Tara and some classmates want to celebrate with karaoke and drinks.”
Valko grins.
“Want me to show off my singing skills?”
You laugh.
“Actually, I turned them down.”
“I had a feeling you'd make plans.”
You glance down at the degree in your hands.
“I wish my parents were here.”
Valko places a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
“They are.”
He places his large palm over your heart.
“I'm sure they're proud of you.”
“Your parents are buried, right?” he asks gently.
You nod.
“Then let's go visit them.”
He takes your hand and leads you toward his waiting car.
…
“So, now that you've graduated, what's next?” Valko asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.
“My offer still stands. You can come work at EonCore Tech.”
“Want me to be your secretary?” You tease.
“Only if you promise to wear a short skirt and a low neckline.”
You burst out laughing.
His face turns bright red.
You lightly smack his arm.
“Don't picture it, you pervert.”
“Poor Mr. Kim,” you add, shaking your head with a giggle.
“The reason I chose business as my major was because I wanted to help my father with the company one day.”
“He spent years building it from the ground up. He was so happy when I told him I was studying business.”
You look out the window.
“I was never really interested in his work, but he never forced me into it.”
“You can still work there,” Valko says. “It's your father's company.”
“Yeah, right.”
You scoff.
“Miranda banned me from the property. I can't even take two steps inside before security throws me out.”
Valko's hands tighten around the steering wheel.
But he says nothing.
…
“Mom. Dad.”
You stand in front of the two graves, your eyes fixed on their names.
“Sorry I haven't visited in a while.”
You hold up your degree.
“Look. I graduated today.”
A small smile forms.
“Now I just need to put it to good use.”
You glance at Valko before linking your arm with his.
“This is Valko.”
“My husband.”
“So you don't need to worry about me anymore. I'm in good hands.”
Valko steps forward.
“Ma'am. Sir.”
He bows respectfully.
“I promise to cherish your daughter and protect her for the rest of my life.”
——————————————————————
“Mr. Lind, what are you doing here?”
You stare at him in surprise as you enter the living room.
Valko called you downstairs, saying he needed to discuss something important.
“It's been a while, Y/N,” Mr. Lind says with a small smile. “It's good to see you.”
His expression turns slightly sad.
“I only wish it was under different circumstances.”
You look at him, then at Valko, then at Secretary Kim, confusion growing as you take a seat.
“Before you get angry or jump to conclusions, I need you to know that my intentions were good,” Valko says, sitting beside you.
Your concern only deepens.
“I need you to read this.”
He hands you a file.
You take it, open it, and begin reading in silence.
The longer you read, the more your expression changes.
“What is the meaning of this?”
You look up at Mr. Lind.
“Your father's will," he explains. “The original. The one I handed over to Miranda's lawyer. The one that should have been read and processed.”
Your fingers tighten around the document.
“What does this mean?”
Your voice comes out small.
“It means Miranda not only lied to you, but also falsified your father's will and illegally transferred his assets into her own name.”
Valko's voice is firm, anger barely restrained.
“She most likely had people assisting her,” Secretary Kim adds. “Including her lawyer.”
You look back down at the document.
This version is completely different from the one you were led to believe.
According to this will, the family manor, the vehicles, the holiday homes in WhiteSand Bay and SnowCrest, the money in multiple accounts, and even the company...
Everything was left to you.
Miranda and Elizabeth were only left two residences, individual accounts, and a percentage of the company's shares.
Your grip tightens until the file begins to crumple in your hands.
“I'm such an idiot.”
Your voice is filled with disbelief.
“I should have known my father would never leave me with nothing.”
How could you have been so naive?
So willing to believe the worst?
“Do not blame yourself.”
Mr. Lind's voice is gentle.
“You had no reason to question it. You trusted the people around you, as anyone would.”
You throw the file onto the floor, anger finally boiling over.
“I always knew Miranda and Elizabeth were cruel. I knew they were selfish and driven by money.”
Your voice shakes.
“But I never thought they would go this far.”
You laugh bitterly.
“It's not even like my father left them with nothing.”
Valko places a hand on your shoulder.
“We'll fix this.”
His voice is calm, but his promise is absolute.
“You will get back what belongs to you. And they will answer for what they did.”
“With Secretary Kim's help, we are already gathering evidence for a legal case,” Mr. Lind adds.
“If this goes to court and I win…”
You look down at the document.
“Miranda and Elizabeth could face prison.”
“I'll make sure they do.”
Valko's voice is cold.
A silence follows.
“But without Miranda, what happens to my father's company?”
Panic enters your voice.
“I can't run it. Not immediately.”
You look between them.
“What about the employees? The clients?”
“I'll help you.”
Valko answers without hesitation.
You shake your head.
“You already have enough responsibilities running EonCore Tech.”
You let out a defeated sigh.
“I know you're going to hate my proposal…”
“But I need you to hear me out.”
——————————————————————
Miranda and Elizabeth don't even try to hide their displeasure when you walk into Miranda's office at your father's company.
You asked Valko to contact them on your behalf, arranging a meeting with both of them present.
Their expressions darken even further when they notice Secretary Kim and Mr. Lind accompanying you.
Before Miranda has the chance to speak, you stop her.
“I'll be doing the talking.”
Your voice is firm.
Your gaze is cold.
“First of all, Elizabeth…”
You turn toward her.
“I must thank you for cheating with my boyfriend.”
Your tone is sweet.
“Because of your actions, I met my husband, Valko.”
You glance at him fondly.
Valko immediately straightens, almost proudly.
“You two are much more suited for each other.”
Your smile doesn't falter.
“Trash belongs with trash.”
Valko has to fight back a laugh.
“And as for you…”
You turn toward Miranda.
“Witch.”
Valko nearly chokes, trying not to laugh at the insult.
“Recognize this?”
You hold out the file.
She snatches it from your hand and quickly scans through the pages.
The color drains from her face.
“I'll take that as a yes.”
You take the file back.
“Out of respect for my father, I'm giving you two choices.”
You raise one finger.
“Option one.”
“You correct everything and follow my father's actual will.’
You tap the file.
“And I'm even willing to let you continue working here.”
“Because as much as I hate to admit it, you are good at managing the company.”
Your eyes narrow.
“Of course, you'll be doing so under my and Valko's supervision.”
You raise a second finger.
“Or option two.”
“We handle this in court.”
Secretary Kim steps forward.
“We are already preparing the necessary evidence for legal proceedings.”
You look between Miranda and Elizabeth.
“The choice is yours.”
…
You stand barefoot on the front porch, a warm mug in your hands as you stare up at the night sky.
Thousands of stars shine above you.
Valko brought you to his secluded cabin deep in the woods, wanting to give you a break from the chaos of Linkon City and everything that has happened.
You've been on countless dates together.
But this is your first trip away.
Here, Valko seems lighter.
Happier.
Relaxed.
As a wolf hybrid, this must truly feel like home.
And, he doesn't have to hide his true self.
You've resisted the urge to wave a stick in front of him and make him play fetch.
Barely.
Two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you against his chest.
Valko rests his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling against you.
“Now that we're here…” he says thoughtfully. “I've been thinking.”
“Maybe we should redo our wedding.”
His voice softens.
“Have a proper one.”
“Couples renew their vows all the time.”
A pause.
“And we could have a honeymoon.”
“Anywhere you want.”
You turn around and gently scratch behind his wolf ears.
“That sounds lovely,” you admit.
“But you don't need to do that to convince me to stay by your side as your wife.”
Valko smiles warmly.
“However…”
Your voice turns sultry.
“I wouldn't mind finally having our wedding night.”
You wink.
For a moment, Valko just stares.
Then his smile slowly widens.
Before you can react, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal style inside the cabin.
“I'm glad fate chose me to be your mate.”
You whisper against his chest.
Valko holds you closer.
Fate may have brought you together.
The bond may have recognized you as mates.
But your hearts recognized each other as partners.
And that is something neither fate, nor a contract, or person can ever take away.
Divider provided by @strangergraphics - all credit goes to her. Thank you, this is perfect for my fanfic! 🩷
Author’s Note: And that's a wrap. I'd like to once again thank @sailorstar9 for the request. 🫶 It was a nice challenge to write a fic about Valko. 🐺 I hope you don't mind that it turned into a two-part story. 😅
“The Sorceress has been judged!” the arbiter declared. “Greed and evil shall perish so long as His Majesty and the Sacred Judicator protect Philos for all eternity! The Sorceress has been judged! Greed and evil shall perish so long as His Majesty and the Sacred Judicator protect Philos for all eternity!”
Scarlet raindrops entered the fleeing Flora's eyes, while far below, they gathered into a gurgling stream at the depths of the Abyss. Through her blurry vision, she caught a flash of lightning ripping through Philos' gloomy night sky. I can't die here... she swore.
From her periphery to the area in front of her, darkness spread like an all-consuming ocean. The world descended as the Wanderers' claws closed in, their cold, eerie glint like the flash of Death's scythe.
I won't accept this. Flora's eyes hardened. I refuse to accept this! “Vine Tie!” at her command, vines erupted from the ground to ensnare the Wanderers chasing her.
I like your eyes. A deep voice echoed in her head. They are beautiful... In them, I can see your hatred, defiance, and greed for life.
Then, all of a sudden, the wind ceased as a flash of white light streaked across an ancient rock wall and Flora saw the shadow of a massive beast with horns.
That's...! Flora's eyes took in the chains that bound its wings so tightly that, if not for the greatsword lodged in its chest, its massive form would almost merge with the rock wall.
Make a deal with me. If you want to live, that is. The bound dragon offered. Pull out the sword. You don't have time for questions.
As if on cue, the entangled Wanderers broke free of their confines.
Left with no choice, Flora raised her hands and gripped the rusted sword.
As she pulled out the sword, the rust melted away and transformed into light, which then surged into her body, mingling with a strand of black-red mist.
Amidst the chaos, wings flapped and stirred up a whirlwind of sand and gravel.
Flora was thrown onto the jagged rocks, her vision growing hazier until the last thing she saw in the darkness was a single, dark-red, gem-like eye.
Enormous wings cut across the land, casting shadows like the end of days over every city in Philos.
On that day, the girl marked with execution unleashed the Fiend from the Abyss.
Flora felt herself being lifted into the air and flown over the burning skies towards the towering, black building.
In the main hall, the giant beast's shadow faded away, and from the darkness emerged a man wrapped in a blood-red mist. “You need to return what doesn't belong to you.” the Fiend narrowed his eyes. Curling a finger, he forced several golden strands to manifest from Flora's body and pulled the threads towards him.
“You...” Flora glared as unimaginable pain ripped through her body. The more she struggled, the more her powers bubbled within her; a round translucent green defensive shield surrounded her and allowing her to sense a strange, unsettling black mist is tangled up within her soul: a soul that was not even hers had somehow fused with her own.
The dragon easily shattered the protective barrier around his captive and yanked her towards him, its blood-red right eye just inches from her face.
In a flash, Flora found herself dragged into the dragon's memory
Flashback
The wind howled through the crimson valley as countless soldiers of the Legion of Justitia thrust their weapons at her chest.
Flora quickly realize it wasn't her past, and the body writhing in pain wasn't hers either.
This was the dragon's memory.
Calling forth her powers, she broke free from the memory and the valley and wind faded away like weathered paint.
“Your power...” the dragon demanded, the link breaking. “What's its source?”
My power... Flora frowned, unable to answer the question.
“Look at me.” the dragon grabbed Flora's chin and pulled her closer. “Tell me your desire and offer your soul to me. Then I shall promise to give you a painless death. Unless you wish to become a minion of a dragon's nest.”
“Take me back to the Ivory City.” Flora answered. “I must return. I used to live in the Sanctuary, but they judged me as a sorceress and threw me into the Abyss. I refuse to accept this. I want revenge!”
“Lead the way.” the dragon instructed, freeing her.
“Growing up in a cage like this...” the dragon was unamused by the pristine marble floor of the pure-white Sanctuary. “No wonder your soul is so dull. It's time.”
“The Judicator's Oracle who judged me isn't here, so my revenge will have to wait—for now, at least.” Flora frowned after the last guard vanished from view. “Otherwise...”
However, the dragon appeared to show no interest in her plan for revenge; instead, he stood in a beam of sunlight deep within the Sanctuary. “What is that?” he asked, looking up at the mural on the Sanctuary's ceiling.
“The Fiend-Slaying God.” Flora answered, looking at the frosted glass that depicted a god-like figure in a bright red cloak, wielding a long sword as he executed an evil dragon in a corner. “The god-like man represents the Sacred Judicator, and that evil dragon getting a sword through its chest in the corner... that's probably you. Of course, it's just the artists' take.”
“It's been 1,677 years since I was sealed away.” the dragon read the text beneath the mural.
“You can read that?” Flora was surprised. “It's written in an ancient language that's been lost to time. Nobody can read it anymore.”
“'The Fiend is the very essence of malice and greed, skilled at twisting human desires.'” the dragon translated. “'He drives mortals to turn against each other, leading them to their own demise. Given time, the world will be swallowed by chaos and descend into ruination. The Fiend's arrival marks the onset of Doomsday. During the battle of Tarus, the Sacred Judicator, with a will of iron, stood firm against the corruption of evil. In a war so fierce, he emerged as the sole honorable survivor. He sealed away the Fiend, the very harbinger of Doomsday, deep within the planet's chasm. With the curse of Doomsday lifted, hope was restored to Philos.'”
Swoosh! A Justitia arrow, forged from golden ore and crackling with electricity, cut through the air.
Next to Flora, the Fiend raised his hand and made a pinching motion. The flying arrow immediately disintegrated into particles.
“How boring.” the dragon was not amused.
Right before the next attack, the Sanctuary was engulfed in a dazzling light that blinded everyone present with its radiance. Behind the silver light, blades charged straight for the fiend. They were accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps.
“How impudent.” the dragon scoffed as he snapped his fingers.
Flora watched in muted horror as the guards tore into each other like marionettes on invisible strings—slashing, ripping, and killing without mercy.
Blood splattered across the engraved walls. The candelabras toppled amidst the chaos, setting the drapes ablaze. The stained glass windows, once vibrant, now cast an ominous red glow, reflecting a twisted vision of purgatory.
Haunting wails and screams echoed through the Sanctuary.
The Fiend scoffed as he watched the place descended into a blood-soaked inferno. “Even after all these years, mortals are still foolish to the last. Come. You're only somewhat clever.” he noted, seeing Flora's focus on his right eye. “But it's still a pitiful display. Such a cage is no place for you; you have the ability to revitalize nature itself.” with a snap of his fingers, energy erupted from the flames. The columns of fire rose upward and stained the clouds in mesmerizing, crimson hues. The ground shook, and the magnificent, solemn Sanctuary at the heart of the city quickly crumbled into ruins. “For something as tedious as revenge, this will suffice. No need for a spectacle.”
The wind swept up the screams and shouts of terror as the Fiend held Flora and flapped his wings as he flew off into the blazing sunset.
Before the sun disappeared under the horizon, the unlikely pair found themselves in a lair perched atop a cliff.
“Is this your home?” Flora was surprised.
“Have you ever met a fiend with a home?” the dragon countered. After putting his companion down, he dragged his tail along a strong staircase to the upper level of the cave.
Wordlessly, Flora followed the dragon up the stone steps. Following the spiral stone staircase to the top of the cave, she felt as if she had stepped into a world that never sees the light.
“Choose.” the dragon growled, lifting Flora onto the final step with his tail. With a snap of his fingers, he released an energy orb that floated into the cave's depths.
One by one, red flames ignited as far as the eye can see.
Right before Flora's eyes, an endless array of treasures and luxurious garments presented themselves.
“You are not interested?” the dragon taunted.
“You'd really give these to me?” Flora gawked.
“Why not?” the dragon drawled. “You're also mine now. It's called the Fiendbane.” he explained, seeing Flora pick up a rusted dagger. “Legends say you could plunge it into a dragon's heart and twist it three times to completely shatter the dragon's soul. The Golden Crow's Feather of Eternity.” he added, seeing the nature-aligned user turn to a sword that laid in an open box. “Designed specifically for gouging out a dragon's eyes. You humans seem to think the longer the name, the more formidable the weapon. But this little thing isn't even good for trimming my nails.”
“I never expected to find an entire armoury here.” Flora remarked.
“Your kind brought them here willingly.” the dragon shrugged.
“I bet they weren't... particularly polite about it.” Flora grinned mischievously.
“It's a shame those who brought them to me are all dead, and I'm still alive.” the dragon snorted.
“So the sword that sealed you away,” Flora started. “Was it really 'given' to you by the Sacred Judicator in the mural?”
“He was just lucky to get his hands on it and fortunate enough to drive it into my chest.” the dragon scoffed. “ But only its true master can wield its power.”
Rounding a thick stone pillar, Flora found herself staring, not at the weapons, but at a seemingly endless hoard of treasures; fine clothes, paintings, musical instruments.
“If you want something, just reach out and take it.” the dragon urged, seeing the plant user's gaping expression.
The next morning...
Flora still laid on the pile of gold the dragon placed her on the night before.
Walking down the stone staircase, she found herself circling around the broken central pillar until the steps gradually merged with the ground and extended into the depths below where the dragon rested.
“Your footsteps are noisy.” the dragon drawled, peering open an eye to look at his captive. “And you breathe heavily. Consider yourself lucky. At the moment, I'm bored to tears. Use an attack on me; show me what you can do with your powers.”
“Flowers of the Wind.” Flora let loose a stream of green dandelion-like seeds from her open palm; the seeds then dropped to the ground and produced vines to entangle the dragon.
“I am not impressed.” the dragon easily destroyed the vines before they took root. “Are you going to stay this weak forever? Prove to me that you can be stronger.”
Some time later...
The dragon tossed Flora a bloodstained bag one afternoon.
“What's in it?” Flora was puzzled.
“Eyes.” the dragon answered. “Crows pecked out the eyes of the person you're looking for. You had me destroy a Sanctuary, but the Legion of Justitia took it further; they wiped out an entire city under the pretense that 'doomsday is nigh'. The Ivory City is a burning purgatory now.” he activated his right eye's power. “A rare sight, indeed. Shall I take you there?”
Before Flora would reply, crimson clouds surged upward at the highest point of the dragon's ridge and Flora found herself drawn into the dragon's memories again.
“Humans don't need fiends.” the dragon remarked as he soared over the burning Ivory City, the sounds of swords clashing clearly audible on the ground. “Their own fear is enough to bring about the world's end.”
After the storm cleared in Tarus City three days later...
“What's that sound?” the dragon wondered outloud.
A faint breeze blew from behind Flora as the dragon folded his wings and landed a few steps away from her. Flora let the final notes of her song trail off before answering, “A requiem for the departed.”
“Sing it again.” the dragon instructed.
“Haven't you ever heard someone sing before?” Flora teased.
“I've never heard you sing.” the dragon corrected, sitting beside her and his tail curling behind her. “I heard you're the Princess of Ivory City.”
“I was supposed to be a weapon to slay dragons.” Flora revealed. “They told me I could kill a dragon, so they filled my head with a lot of things about them. But when they decided to execute me, they said I was a dragon.”
“That's how humans are.” the dragon scoffed. “They fear those who are different. Why can't you leave that place behind?”
Flora cast a green energy bubble over a white candle whose flame was about to go out. “ I just lived there for a long time.”
“You consider that place your 'home'.” the dragon realized.
“Maybe I just miss the cats, dogs, and birds there.” Flora reminisced.
“No matter how much you hate it or want to leave, a home is still a part of your soul.” the dragon counselled. “The more you try to excise it, the more you'll be reminded of who you are. Enlighten me. What do you and dragons have in common?” he changed the subject.
“Absolutely nothing!” Flora snorted. “I just broke the rules by keeping a golden lamp with an engraved dragon. Aside from the one in The Fiend-Slaying God, no dragons are allowed in the Sanctuary. But I could only talk to that little dragon. And one day, they caught me talking to it.” she let out a mirthless laugh. “To think a carefully trained, dragon-slaying weapon would cherish a dragon instead. The Judicator's Oracle looked like he had been attacked by a dragon. Hysteric, he ordered me to destroy my dragon. I know it's just an object. Destroying it would be easy. But I didn't want to listen to them that day.” she recalled how she had clutched the little dragon as she was forced into a corner as the shadows of the crowd engulfed her.
The essence of the Ivory City had been reflected in its citizens: people dressed nicely, exuded grace, and possessed untainted souls.
The Judicator's Oracle declared that desire was the seed of calamity, that excessive indulgence would allow this disease to grow quietly.
So, Flora had to act like everyone else; had to abide by proper etiquette, say the right words, and bind her hands and feet with invisible white threads and turning her into a puppet without a heart.
But... they still burned her dragon.
To kill her dragon, they framed her for a great crime; sentencing a puppet to death because it had one desire.
“Since they've branded me as a 'sorceress',” Flora spat. “Fine, then. How could I not do what a sorceress is supposed to do?” a green aura flared up around her as she turned to the dragon. “Since they destroyed what was most precious to me, it's only fair that they surrender what's most precious to them. Everyone wearing a sacred robe should have their chest split open to see their truest selves.”
“Do you know what you look like right now?” the dragon gave the enraged plant wielder a satisfied grin. “You're a young dragon who just grew her horns. Growing dragon horns symbolize a rebirth. It's a good thing. Even if your desire is to resurrect the people of the Ivory City, it's still within my capabilities. After all, people are far more interesting alive than dead. If you truly want revenge, the best way is to keep them alive. You can only feel pain when you're alive. Sing that song again.”
“It's meaningless without music.” Flora said. “It's better with an organ accompaniment.”
“it's a simple matter.” the dragon shook his head. “Consider it done.”
“Do you have a name?” Flora asked.
“Does it matter?” the dragon questioned.
“We're struck with each other for the time being.” Flora pointed out. “What should I call you? Demon? Dragon? Or maybe...” she mused. “Drago? 'Stayrus'?” she echoed the two words that came from the dragon's mouth.
“It's an ancient Philosian word.” Stayrus explained. “Since you can't read it. you probably won't understand it.”
“How about I call you by a name that sounds similar?” Flora suggested. “Something like... Sylus.”
“Call me whatever you want.” Sylus snorted. “But don't expect me to respond. I'll be resting.” unfurling his wings, he left.
That night, Flora dreamt of Sylus' last battle; of how he had been overpowered by the Legion of Justitia's sheer numbers, of how he was forced back into his human form.
On the streets of Tarus City...
“That stall just now...” Flora mused. “There was a Wanderer's head displayed.”
“You reacted quickly.” Sylus remarked. “Should I remind you that you're currently fiddling with a Wanderer's thigh? What?” he mocked. “Are you terrified?”
“I just thought of something.” Flora replied. “That painting earlier... was the canvas made of dragon's hide?”
Sylus could only let Flora drag him from store to store. “You have no intention of disguising yourself.” she noted.
“No need.” Sylus shrugged. “No one would believe a fiend would wander around a market. Besides, everyone sees a fiend differently – some see ugliness, others see horror, cruelty... what they see isn't me. They only see their own hearts. At the very least, I'm a lot more handsome than I was depicted in that Fiend-slaying God mural.
“I thought the famous market of Tarus would be more interesting, given how it's known for fiend-related items.” Flora was disappointed. “It turns out to be just a bunch of normal things.”
“You won't be able to find wind chimes made of finger bones anywhere else.” Sylus reminded.
“There's even a goat bone amulet.” Flora picked up an obsidian sculpture.
“Do you want it?” Sylus asked. “In that case, you can carry the stuff back by yourself later.”
“I want something smaller.” Flora replied. “Let's see... there's a fiend's horn ring, a fiend's wing necklace... this volcanic stone pendent isn't bad.”
“It's not bad?” Sylus snorted. “Pitch-black and shaped like a crippled dragon. Di you come here just for these?”
“Then what is the most valuable piece in your collection?” Flora fired back.
“The painted oil lamp made out of pure gold and that ruby necklace.” Sylus answered. “You wouldn't use them if I gave them to you. Why are you interested in cheap things?”
“You actually measure worth based on monetary value?” Flora gawked.
“There's another way?” Sylus scoffed.
“You certainly live up to the stereotype of dragons greedy for treasure.” Flora shook her head. “True value comes from something warmer; take this bracelet for example. It might not look impressive, but it carries great significance. Look a look at the words engraved on it.” she slid the bracelet around Sylus' wrist.
“The Fiend shall always shield you?” Sylus snorted. “How warm and comforting.
“One piece of information or thirty gold coins for the bracelet.” the merchant noticed his customers.
Without a word, Sylus opened his pouch and dropped an entire heap of gold coins into the merchant's hands.
“You've given too much.” the blind merchant chided. “Rules are rules. I'll keep the gold and give you two pieces of information. First – the fiend has returned. The Legion of Justitia will march to Tarus City soon. You two need to be careful.: As for the second one,” he turned to Flora. “Before long, the Fiend will meet his destined archnemesis once again. Right over there.” he tilted his smoking pipe towards the direction beyond the barren forest where an obsidian spire was jutting out.
“Isn't that the place where I freed you?” Flora whispered to Sylus.
“Do you wish to return for the sake of nostalgia?” Sylus taunted.
“Who knows?” Flora shrugged. “Maybe something unexpected will happen.”
“An abandoned, dilapidated Chapel won't offer anything worth the trek.” Sylus scoffed. “Don't forget why I'm here with you.”
“It's not like you just found out I'm insatiable.” Flora pouted. “If I can't get the organ, I'll just grab a few other things as consolation.” picking out several accessories, she shoved them into her companion's hands.
“You...” Sylus growled. After a moment's of silence, he set the coin pouch on the table. “Since you want all of them, don't leave a single one behind. Take everything. We're leaving.”
As the days passed, Sylus and Flora achieved some sort of a balance, living like true partners r in the dragon's lair above Tarus City.
Flora's favorite sight was watching the Judicator's arm, who had been ruthlessly extorting people with warnings of impending doom, fall to their knees at the sight of a real fiend and a resurrected sorceress.
Sylus had been personally nurturing the plant user's ambition, leading her from one aid to another and feeding the desire in her heart.
“This place.” Flora pointed to the marked out spots on the starmap. “And over here... We've already been to these places.”
“Didn't you say you wanted the minerals and starships here?” Sylus tapped the starmap's edge, his tone barely concealing his excitement.
On Flora's shoulder, the mark he left faintly burned with the blood-red gleam in his eyes. Touching the mark, she recalled the Sanctuary they had raided two days ago. “You remember everything I said.” she blinked.
Sylus merely raised an eyebrow and claimed a blood orange from the top of the fruit pile.
Flora retaliated by releasing a green stream of energy to snatch the fruit. “ Be honest with me. What do you gain from indulging my desires like this?”
“What about you?” Sylus claimed back the orange.
“You don't need to tell me.” Flora recalled her attack. “The greedier the soul, the more delicious it is. Am I mistaken? In any case, let's hope it doesn't backfire on you.”
“Likewise.” Sylus countered, leaning close and snatching the peeled pomegranate seed with his teeth.
Some time later...
“Does your song truly need an organ?” Sylus suddenly asked, as Flora drying her recently washed hair. “We already bought a bone flute.”
“Why don't I teach you the song since you like it so much?” Flora patted Sylus' damp hair.
“No.” Sylus refused outright.
“You don't want to?” Flora put on a sad face. “Or you don't think you can learn it? I just realized something these days.” she cupped Sylus' face to make him look at her. “You don't understand a song's melody, can't see the beauty in patterns, and can't even taste the flavors of food.”
“Dragons don't need those things to survive.” Sylus related.
“You act mature, but you were sealed away for so long...” Flora continued. Sylus, just how old are you in dragon terms? You only just learned how to hide your wings. But you can't hide your horns and tail.”
Sylus merely looped his tail around Flora's waist. “Are you trying to say you've uncovered my secret?” he pulled Flora to his chest. “All right, let's assume there is a young dragon before you. What will you do? Eat it?”
“I'd tell it that we're doing something humans call 'hugging'.” Flora answered. “
Then do humans still hug each other even when they want to kill each other?” Sylus asked. “Like us?”
“What does a human soul taste like?” Flora inquired, shifting to a more comfortable position. “We've known each other for so long, but I've never seen you eat. Have you never eaten a soul?”
“Most human souls are disgusting.” Sylus scoffed. “They're even less appealing than a wanderer's Protocore. Is there something else you want?”
“Sylus, those gems and weapons are boring. If you want to cultivate my desire, you need to give me something rarer.” Flora answered after a moment. “ This time, I want... your love.”
“A fiend's love?” Sylus barked back a laugh. “What are you going to do with something that doesn't exist?”
“If it doesn't exist, then it's even more precious.” Flora countered.
“Speak.” Sylus demanded. “What does it mean to truly love a person? Have you ever loved anyone before?”
“No, but I know exactly what to do.” Flora leaned up and planted a kiss on Sylus' forehead. “When humans fall in love, they want to kiss it. Maybe dragons feel the same way.”
“But maybe you should know the fate that befalls a dragon's lover.” Sylus drawled. “In the beginning, there was a dragon that lived in a valley with other dragons. Amongst his kin, he was the only one with a human appearance. He mistakenly believed he was a normal person. But as he grew older, horns sprouted from his
head and a tail from his back. He had never seen anything like this on someone before. He was scared, so he picked up a blade because he wanted to remove them. But the horns and scales would grow back, dripping with blood. It didn't matter how many times he cut them. After a long time, he finally came to terms with being a monster with horns. But then the love of his life appeared.” he knew the woman by his side was the one destined to kill him the moment she pulled out her sword, but he continued. “She showed him human love and companionship, making him think he could live like a human too. And slowly without realizing it. he began to forget he was a dragon. Yet a monster never truly become a human. He cannot escape his fate as a
dragon nor can he love anyone for long. Dragons have an inherent tendency to toy with human desire. But in the end, they inevitably become enslaved by it and turn into true monsters. In the end, he killed his beloved. This is the dragon's curse.”
“Sylus, do you hate humans?” Flora asked.
“I wouldn't say I like them for now.” Sylus admitted.
“But I'm a human too.” Flora reminded.
With the return of the Fiend, Doomsday's ominous shadow once again haunted the war-torn lands of Philos.
Under the guise of exterminating the Fiend, the Legion of Justitia began sparking wars across the planet; any who dare to oppose them are branded as 'Sinners and put on trial in the Court of Justitia.
The Sacred Judicator's authority now hung by a fragile thread as the long-standing resentment among the people reached its boiling point, further fueled by the Fiend's resurgence.
“Please... please don't kill me!” a Judicator's Oracle pleaded. “Spare my life, and I'll... I'll do anything for you! I have plenty of treasures. I collected them from different places. You can find them in the inner sanctum.
The key is right...” his plea was cut short by a waft of red-black mist that ended his life.
“I bet those guards never imagined they'd be risking their lives for a cowardly imposter.” Flora snorted.
“After raiding so many places in a row, I thought you'd display some self-awareness.” Sylus chided. “What a pleasant surprise.” he instantly spotted a massive organ hidden behind a curtain.
With a satisfied smile, Flora sat down before the organ and began to play.
“Why did you stop?” Sylus was disappointed after the performance.
“A requiem is meant to soothe the dead, but the souls in this place don't deserve it.” Flora answered flatly. “They were sanctimonious enough when they were alive—I have no intention of praising their ugly souls. What I desire is...” she sat on the throne at the top of the dais. “To live freely and die without regrets.”
His lips drawing a slow smile, Sylus wrapped his tail around Flora's waist and pulled her close. “Are you aware of your soul's scent? It's akin to a strong liquor topped off with salt... forever boiling and never satisfied.”
A shiver rippled through Flora, deep in her body and the mark on her shoulder burnt with a heat like never before. “And you?” she brushed her fingers around Sylus' lashes. “What is it... that you desire?”
“You ask too many questions.” Sylus pulled back.
“Were those guards not enough for you?” Flora asked, stopping Sylus from rampaging further.
“What?” Sylus stopped in his tracks.
“You still want to hide it from me?” Flora huffed, sweeping the strands of hair away from her neck to revealing the mark he left behind. “Whenever your hunger for souls flares up, this mark you have me stirs, too. Lately, it's been acting up more frequently.”
“Crossing the line again and again and again...” Sylus shook his head. “Other than your desire, your audacity is boundless.” a force erupted from and pushed Flora back.
Looking up, Flora noticed thin wisps of dark mist slipping from beneath Sylus' hand, which covered his right eye. “Sylus, you...?!” she was taken aback.
Thick clouds silently shrouded the Sanctuary's ceiling as half of Sylus' body sank into the shadows and he lowered his arm with a ragged breath. Black-red energy particles started to drift from the corners of his eyes, his gaze now completely drenched in blood-red. “Did you forget what I truly am?” he growled.
The oncoming black mist bound Flora's limbs; Sylus' face was lost in the shadows, hidden from view; the shackle around her neck suddenly tightened and the pain from the depths of Flora's soul struck again. “Are you going to devour me? No, you won't—“ the plant user hissed.
“I won't?” Sylus countered. “Have you spun so many lies that you've begun to believe them yourself? Shall I remind you? You are nothing. You are but a soul that was fed by a fiend.”
The mark on Flora's shoulder grew like thorns, tightening its grip around her body; her strength began to drain away as my vision blurred.
“So long as I desire it, I can feast at any time...” Sylus drawled.
A powerful emerald light surged from Flora's body, shattering the bind that held her.
Right before Sylus' eyes, the seemingly defenceless woman transformed into the Goddess of her name sake; Flora, the Goddess of flowers and spring.
Now decked in a long flowing green gown with a chain tiara droning her forehead, the newly revealed Goddess reached out an open hand, a tangle of entwining vines wrapped around Sylus' body.
Sylus' scarlet eyes widen in disbelief as his power was forcibly receded.
“The dragon...” the Judicator's Oracle burst into the Sanctuary with the Legion of Justitia, their voice frantic and uneven as they shouted. “The Fiend has been tamed. Capture it! Capture it now!”
With a wave of her hand, Flora sent the Judicator's Oracle and the Legion of Justitia on their knees. “You saw it yourselves—the Fiend couldn't best me. Anyone who steps closer will meet their end by my power.”
Aside, Sylus went down on one knee, and sharp claws began to sprout from the hand covering his right eye. An irresistible force pierced through his flesh and bones and transformed him into massive wings that spread wide from his back.
The Sanctuary's pristine bell tower trembled as a savage force destroyed it from within as a roar resounded from the collapsing rubble.
The now mad dragon spread his wings and surged forth before crashing to the ground amidst the humans' screams.
Wings struggled to flap as Sylus stumbled. A vortex then stirred, nearly levelling all the buildings in its path. And then, he finally flew toward the distant Tarus City.
Ignoring the Legion, the Goddess of flowers manifested shimmering butterfly wings on her back and flew off after the rampaging dragon. Recalling the blind merchant's words, she sped towards the black chapel.
In the black chapel...
Flora's eyes instantly took in the heavily heaving dragon lying in the centre of the room.
On the raised platform, the dragon's eyes were closed as Sylus tried to force his draconic attributes back. A sudden roar resounded as the still draconic Sylus opened his eye and a fierce gale pushed Flora back and against a pillar.
In an instant, his fangs were at Flora's neck, puncturing her skin; the mark on her shoulder boiled with agony. Flora suppressed her fear and gently placed her hand on the dragon's eye. “Healing Flower Robe.” she cast her healing spell.
The bestial chaos in Sylus' eyes cleared as the healing magic washed over him.
A moment later, a familiar figure appeared before Flora; his lashes fluttered as he stumbled and collapsed onto the cold floor.
“Before the mark disappears, you still have a chance to kill me.” Sylus reminded. “Do you remember? Only the Fiend's destined archnemesis can kill him. Who exactly do you think that is?”
Flora burst into an indignant laugh. “I don't believe in this destined archnemesis nonsense.”
Sylus cackled and bit the flower Goddess' shoulder. Then, he extended his tongue, slowly licking the wound on her shoulder. “If you want to push me away, now's the time. However, if you don't want to... I told you before that I'd give you two more chances to kill me. Now, you only have one.”
“I told you before that I hate being controlled by others.” Flora pointed out. “If fate wants me to kill the Fiend, then I'll save him instead.”
“Save me?” Sylus echoed. “Are you aware of the cost? Once we hold hands now, our lives will be bound together, along with our deaths. We must offer half our soul to the other. They'll be merged... to forge an unbreakable bond. To share your life with a fiend—it might be a punishment worse than having your soul devoured. Will you truly not regret it?”
“Will you truly not regret it?” Flora related.
“In that case,” Sylus kissed the inside of Flora's wrist. “Stay by my side until the end of time.”
“Why are you so worried?” Sylus asked, noticing Flora's expression. “I just want to rest. I won't die. That song you played... it would be nice if I could hear it again.”
“I notice the forest barely has any flowers.” Flora spoke after some time.
“Hold on tight.” Sylus unceremoniously wrapped the plant user's waist around his arms and took off.
“Watch your step, O' Flower Goddess.” Sylus teased. “We've arrived.”
“I thought there wouldn't be a place like this in Tarus City.” Flora gawked at the valley full of flowers.
“What did you think Tarus City was like?” Sylus asked, sitting on the carpet of flowers.
“Similar to its ruler.” Flora answered. “Nothing but desire and blood.”
“You should have developed a new impression by now.” Sylus remarked. “Just because you haven't seen the other sides of it doesn't mean they don't exist.”
“If that's the case, then I need to take a closer look.” Flora let her nature powers expand outwards. “What else haven't I seen? Flowers suit you better than Tarus City.”
“That's the first time someone said those words to me.” Sylus admitted.
“Once I fully regain my powers, Tarus City can have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see.” Flora promised.
On the night Sylus and Flora exchanged souls, the Sacred Judicator himself led the entire Legion of Justitia to surround the chapel.
Flora reacted by turning into her Goddess form and unleashed her divine powers, teleporting the Sacred Judicator and his troops back to the Court of Justitia.
“Our souls are bound.” Sylus cradled his Goddess into his embrace. “We will never betray each other even if Doomsday arrives outside this chapel. Even if the world crumbles. This promise will never be broken.”
Flora watched in horror as the planet fell into rapid decline and she teleported to the valley of flowers.
Closing her eyes, she summoned her heart-shaped emerald Soul Stone.
Channelling her life force into her Soul Stone, she let loose her full power to revitalize the planet.
“Look at me...” Sylus pleaded, catching the dying Flora in his arms. “You're not allowed to close your eyes!”
His plea came too late as Flora's bright green eyes dimmed, her Soul Stone shattering into dust.
The wind blew through the valley, lifting the dust like jade petals.
“Flora... I curse your soul...” Sylus hissed. “I curse your soul... to never fade away... you'll always be tied to me. Forever.”
*Skipping into your inbox* Congrats on the 100+ followers *Throws confetti all around*
Lohen 🪈💍
I want to see that you'll cook up.
this one thoroughly stumped me for a bit lol i almost had venti show up LMAOOO
cw: drinking and a drunk guy who can't take a hint
find the event here!
Angel's Share is usually fairly crowded— most especially at this time of day, when everyone is wrapping up their day and searching for somewhere to let off some steam— even more so when the knights had decided to host a small get-together after a long day of work.
Lohen had been dragged off by Varka just a few minutes after your arrival, leaving you to sip contentedly at your drink and people-watch for at least a few minutes until he was able to slip away from the drunken grandmaster once more. You hadn't minded at first— whether it be the story being told next to you about a thrilling ambush in the field (that was most definitely embellished for dramatic effect), or the little old granny dancing in the middle of the bar (you weren't sure how she was still so spry when she most certainly couldn't be any younger than eighty), there was no lack of entertainment for you in the meantime.
Until, of course, you were approached by a very drunk bard who couldn't seem to take a hint.
"Come onnnn, I can be such a good husband," The man's words are slurred, his flute clanking against the counter where you sit. You don't bother answering him anymore, sipping at your drink casually as if he hadn't said anything at all. The man only seems to wilt further at this, before he abruptly snaps up with a gleeful smile. "Oh, oh! Please, allow me to serenade you with a love song! One so sweet, that you'll be falling over yourself to marry me!"
You wince. "Please don't."
The bard only lifts his flute to his lips, spitting clumsily over the mouthpiece as if he had forgotten exactly where his mouth was and how to control it. Just as he takes a deep breath in to begin playing, a gloved hand closes tightly over the instrument.
"A love song? Now that's something I'd love to hear."
The way the bard's eyes fly open in shock nearly has you choking on your drink with laughter. He sputters a couple times, seeming to sober up at the sight of the fifth company's notoriously crazed vice-captain. Despite the seemingly pleasant smile on Lohen's face, the very air around him felt… cold.
"Uh— I didn't—"
"Hmm? No, nonono, really! I want to hear this song— so don't be shy." You can see the way Lohen's hold tightens on the instrument, the leather of his gloves concealing what is surely a white-knuckled grip. "Start playing."
The bard stares for a second, then two, before promptly falling backwards out of his seat and darting out of the bar.
"Boring. Not even gonna try fighting," Lohen watches him leave for a couple moments, before plopping himself down into the seat that the bard had previously been occupying. He leans casually against the counter, the smile on his face softening into something genuine this time as if nothing had happened at all. "So— Having a good time?"
"Could ask you the same question," You tease. "You seem far too pleased with yourself for that."
"Whaaat, can you blame me?" Lohen's grin widens, and he casually reaches down to grab the leg of your seat and yank it closer to his own. "The only guy you should be thinking of marrying is me. Can't have you stolen away by some shabby love song, can I?"
Synopsis: A collection of angsty Love and Deepspace drabbles exploring the moment they realize the heart they'd been chasing cost them the heart that had always chosen them.
Pairing: all LI separately (including Valko) x reader/non-MC
Trigger Warning : hurt/no comfort, angst, heartbreak, no happy ending (for the LIs), mention of in-game MC, OOC
Author’s note : See what you guys made me do. I literally wrote this in a day. 😅 I hope you enjoy Part 2 from the LI's POV. 🙃 FYI, there will also be a Part 3 (as per a request from a follower 🤫).
Please read part 1 before proceeding
Part 2:
YOUR HEART WAS ONCE MINE
XAVIER (Word count : 553)
When Xavier arrives home, he expects to find you where you usually are - curled up on the couch with a book or out on the balcony with a cup of tea, chatting away to Puffball.
Instead, the apartment is empty.
Maybe you're still at the restaurant.
Or perhaps you stopped by the convenience store on the way home.
He checks his phone.
No missed calls.
No messages.
He tries calling you.
No answer.
A few moments later, a message appears on his screen.
Staying with a friend tonight.
His brows knit together.
It's unlike you to ignore his calls.
Even more unlike you to spend the night elsewhere without saying anything beforehand.
Maybe you'd run into someone while waiting for him and simply lost track of time.
That's the only explanation he can think of.
…
The next day at the Hunters Association, Xavier doesn't see you once.
Normally, that wouldn't mean much. The two of you work in different departments and rarely cross paths during the day.
Still...
He can't shake the feeling that you're avoiding him.
His suspicions are confirmed during a meeting with Captain Jenna.
You don't look at him even once.
When the meeting ends, everyone files out except you.
You stay behind to speak with Captain Jenna in private.
Xavier waits outside, hoping to catch you afterward.
He wants to ask what's wrong.
Before you emerge, he's called away on a mission.
The conversation will have to wait.
…
When he returns home that evening, he never expects to hear the words that leave your lips.
“I can’t do this anymore. It's over, Xavier.”
The words hit him like a blow.
“I can't be with someone who's still haunted by his past,” you say quietly. “Jeremiah told me about MC... a long time ago.”
“I can't compete with a past love you're still hoping to find again.”
Xavier opens his mouth to argue.
To tell you that it isn't like that.
But the words die in his throat.
Because somewhere deep down...
He knows there's truth in what you've said.
…
Two years pass.
At first, Xavier begs you to come back.
He promises he'll do better.
He tells you he misses you.
Each time, you turn him away.
Eventually...
He stops asking.
…
As always, Xavier spends most of his free time asleep.
But ever since you left, sleep has brought him no peace.
Each time he closes his eyes, he dreams of Philo.
Of the queen.
Of MC.
The memories intertwine, yet with every passing night, the differences become clearer.
The queen.
And the MC of this world.
They are not the same person.
They never were.
His thoughts find their way back to you.
His gaze falls to the cream-colored envelope resting on his bedside table.
Jeremiah had long since accepted that he would never return to Philo.
Instead, he'd built a new life on Earth.
Now, he is getting married.
Xavier should be happy for his friend.
He is.
If only the bride weren't you.
His fingers tighten around the wedding invitation.
Your names, written side by side in elegant gold lettering, blur as his vision stings.
Only now does he finally understand.
He spent so long chasing the person he'd lost...
That he failed to see the one who had chosen to stay.
ZAYNE (Word count : 995)
Just as Zayne is gathering his things to leave the hospital and meet you, Yvonne catches him to let him know that MC has arrived.
He immediately calls to cancel your date before hurrying to MC's side. Her injuries are only minor - nothing serious - but with her condition, he'd rather be safe than sorry.
After treating her, the two of them end up talking in his office until her hunter watch sounds with a mission alert.
Seeing how much time has already passed, Zayne decides not to go home after all and instead stays behind to finish some paperwork.
As a result, he returns home much later than expected.
He finds you curled up on the couch.
You must have waited for him until you fell asleep.
He carefully scoops you into his arms to carry you to bed. As he looks down at you, he notices your furrowed brows, the tear tracks staining your cheeks, and the faint shiver that runs through you.
He lays you down gently, pulls the blanket over you, and presses a hand to your forehead.
You don't have a fever.
Perhaps you're simply having a bad dream.
...
The next morning, Zayne wakes to find your side of the bed empty and cold.
He wanders into the kitchen, only to find a note waiting on the counter.
Gone out to run errands.
A small frown crosses his face.
Today is his day off.
You took the day off as well so the two of you could spend it together.
He doesn't dwell on it. Instead, he has breakfast, gets himself ready for the day, and decides he'll cook your favorite meal for lunch to make up for yesterday.
Whatever errands you had to run, surely you'd be home soon.
...
You don't return until evening.
“Where have you been? I was worried sick.”
He keeps his voice calm, careful not to sound accusatory.
You don't answer.
You don't even look at him.
Instead, you keep your gaze fixed on the floor.
He takes a step toward you.
You step back.
“My love... what's wrong?” he asks, concerned.
“Don't call me that,” you whisper.
Without a word, you walk into the kitchen.
Zayne follows, stopping on the opposite side of the island.
Taking a shaky breath, you finally speak.
“We've been together for three years, and I still feel like you've never truly let me in. You keep me at arm's length. You never let me see what you're really feeling.”
“I see,” Zayne replies, adjusting his glasses. “Is this about yesterday?”
“This goes beyond yesterday.”
“You feel neglected,” he observes. “Is this because of how much I've been working lately? We can discuss my schedule.”
“In that case…” Your voice sharpens as you finally meet his eyes. “Why don't we discuss yesterday's emergency?”
“MC looked and sounded perfectly fine to me.”
Zayne blinks.
When did you stop by the hospital?
Before he can respond, you continue.
“Tell me... why does she get to see the warm, gentle side of Zayne while I'm stuck loving an ice sculpture?”
“What are you trying to say?”he asks quietly, already fearing the answer.
“I'm done trying to melt your heart... only to have mine frozen instead in the process.”
“Judging by your words…” Zayne says after a long pause, “...it would seem you wish to end our relationship.”
He states it as a fact.
“Yes,” you whisper.
Another heavy silence settles between you.
“Is that it?” you ask, tears spilling over. “Aren't you going to ask me to stay? Aren't you going to fight for us?”
Zayne walks around the kitchen island, stopping only a few inches away.
His eyes are dark with emotions he refuses to show, yet his expression remains composed.
“If I ask you to stay,” he says, “it would serve only my selfishness... not your well-being.”
...
Several days pass.
As always, when Zayne doesn't know how to deal with his emotions, he buries himself in work.
One evening, he returns to an apartment that no longer feels like home.
Without you, it feels sterile.
Like another wing of the hospital.
Removing his glasses, he reaches to place them on the coffee table.
He misses.
They slip from his fingers and fall to the floor.
As he bends to retrieve them, something catches his eye beneath the couch.
...
Zayne doesn't know where you've gone after leaving him.
Still, he has a feeling you've returned to your parents' house.
Before long, he's standing outside their front door.
Only after knocking does he realize how late it is.
Perhaps everyone has already gone to bed.
The door opens.
Your eyes widen ever so slightly when you see him standing there.
Before you can close the door, he raises the sonogram he'd found beneath the couch.
“When were you planning to tell me?”
You take the sonogram from his hand.
Without hesitation, you tear it in half.
“This no longer concerns you,” you say firmly.
“You are carrying my child. Of course it concerns me.”
“There is no child.”
You shake your head.
“Not anymore.”
“I had an abortion.”
Your words strike him harder than any physical blow ever could.
He simply stares.
You wouldn't...
But the look in your eyes leaves no room for doubt.
“I wanted every last piece of you out of my life.”
You meet his gaze one final time.
“Goodbye, Zayne.”
The door slams in his face.
...
Years later, a familiar sound catches Zayne's attention as he walks down the street.
A laugh.
One he hasn't heard in years.
He turns.
There you are.
Your smile is bright.
Beside you walks another man, his hand intertwined with yours, looking at you with unmistakable adoration.
The way Zayne should have looked at you.
Your free hand rests protectively over the curve of your pregnant stomach.
A chill crawls up his spine as frost spreads across the back of his neck.
That could have been him.
That should have been him.
RAFAYEL (Word count : 719)
When Thomas stops by Linkon University to deliver Rafayel's forgotten ID badge, he barely says a word. His expression is a strange mix of disappointment and disbelief.
Rafayel doesn't think much of it.
Thomas is always on his case about something - deadlines, interviews, exhibitions, or unfinished paintings.
...
When you don't return to his studio at Whitesand Bay, he doesn't think much of that either.
The two of you don't live together.
You still have your apartment in Linkon City, and since you work there, it's far more convenient for your daily commute. You usually only stay at the studio on weekends.
However, when the weekend comes and goes without you showing up, he begins to find it odd.
What's even stranger is the silence.
Normally, you would call to remind him about his deadlines, text him to stop bullying Thomas, or nag him to take a break and eat something.
This time...
Nothing.
He checks your Moments first.
No new posts.
Then he calls you.
The call doesn't go through.
He sends several messages.
None of them are delivered.
Finally, he calls Thomas.
Thomas swears he hasn't seen or heard from you since the day he returned Rafayel's ID badge.
...
Rafayel punches the passcode into the keypad outside your apartment.
Incorrect password.
His brows knit together.
He tries again.
The same result.
He knocks.
No answer.
The apartment is silent.
Just then, your neighbor steps out of the apartment across the hall, a trash bag in hand.
“I don't think she's home,” he says casually. “Haven't seen her for a few days.”
He walks away toward the elevator, leaving Rafayel standing alone in the hallway.
...
"Breaking news from Linkon City. A massive surge of Metaflux has triggered a high-threat Protofield in the downtown shopping mall."
The reporter's voice crackles through the radio in Rafayel's car.
"We now go live to our Hunter correspondent at the scene."
Rafayel instinctively turns up the volume.
"A high-ranking Wanderer breached the downtown perimeter earlier today. The Hunter Association has secured the area. The Wanderers have been neutralized, and all civilians have been evacuated."
Before the report continues, his phone begins to ring.
Without taking his eyes off the road, he reaches for it on the passenger seat.
Unknown number.
He answers.
“Am I speaking with Mr. Rafayel?”
“Yes. Who—”
“This is Asko Hospital. Your number was listed as the emergency contact for one of our patients, Miss Y/N.”
The color drains from his face.
Without another word, he jerks the steering wheel and speeds toward the hospital.
...
Rafayel all but sprints to the reception desk.
“I'm Rafayel,” he says between breaths. “I received a call about my girlfriend.”
“Your girlfriend was among the civilians caught in today's Wanderer attack,” the nurse explains gently.
Before he can ask another question, he hears a familiar voice.
“Rafayel.”
MC approaches, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I was one of the Hunters at the scene. I recognized her and rode with her in the ambulance.”
“Is she okay?” he asks immediately.
MC lowers her eyes.
“I... don't know.”
“They took her straight into surgery.”
...
Rafayel and MC wait outside the operating room in complete silence.
Finally, the doors open.
The surgeon steps outside.
“Is my girlfriend okay?”
The doctor's expression says enough.
“Your girlfriend used her own body to shield a child from falling glass after the Wanderers shattered the skylight.” The doctor says.
“I'm sorry.”
“Her injuries were too severe. They caused damage to several vital organs.”
“We couldn't save her.”
Behind him, hurried footsteps echo down the hallway.
Thomas.
“I came as soon as you called,” he says, breathless. “What happened? Is she okay?”
MC silently shakes her head.
Thomas lowers his gaze.
After a long moment, he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a photograph.
“I found this in my office at Flux Arts.”
Rafayel accepts it with trembling hands.
It's a photograph of the two of you.
Turning it over, he immediately recognizes your handwriting.
I'm sorry I wasn't the one you chose to be your muse. I wish you all the best.
His fingers tighten around the photograph.
His knees give way beneath him.
A single tear slips down his cheek.
Halfway down, it transforms into a pearl before rolling across the hospital floor.
SYLUS (Word count : 711)
Sylus is greeted by the blaring sound of music - if it can even be called music - the moment he steps into the base. It pounds through the halls, loud enough to give him a headache.
“Luke. Kieran. Turn that noise off,” he calls.
“That isn't us, Boss,” the twins reply in unison as they walk up behind him.
“Boss-lady's home,” Kieran says.
“And she's in a really bad mood,” Luke adds.
“That's putting it lightly,” Kieran mutters. “She trashed her bedroom.”
Following the music, Sylus heads toward his room.
He finds you there, rock music blasting from your phone as you practically scream the lyrics while drinking wine straight from the bottle.
Leaning against the doorframe, he crosses his arms.
“Having fun?” he calls over the music, his tone laced with amusement.
You turn to face him.
“Well, well, well…” you slur with a crooked smile. “If it isn't Boss-man.”
His amusement fades at your mocking tone.
Pushing himself off the doorframe, he walks over and switches off your phone.
“How's MC?” you ask.
“Oh... or should I call her Kitten?”
You take another swig of wine.
“Or maybe Sweetie?”
“You're drunk,” Sylus says, reaching for the bottle. “What brought this on?”
You stumble backward before he can take it.
“Sooo…” you drawl, swaying slightly. “What did little Miss Hunter need the big, bad leader of Onychinus for this time?”
Your smirk is sharp.
“She needed help recovering a stolen Protocore,” Sylus replies evenly.
“Riiight…”
You nod exaggeratedly.
“And that was more important than picking your girlfriend up from work? Or at the very least sending someone else in your place?”
Your voice hardens.
Before he can answer, you hurl the wine bottle at him.
Sylus doesn't even bother using his evol.
He simply steps aside.
The bottle smashes against the wall behind him, glass scattering across the floor.
“No more explanations disguised as excuses.”
“No more expensive gifts to make up for your absence.”
“I'm not another deal you can close.”
Your finger jabs toward his chest.
“For your sake…”
“I hope MC is worth it.”
Without waiting for a response, you storm out.
...
EVER has always been a thorn in Sylus's side.
They interfere with Onychinus' operations whenever they can and have made hunting him something of a pastime.
Lately, however, things have changed.
For the past several months, EVER has become unusually aggressive, launching increasingly frequent ambushes against his operations throughout the N109 Zone.
Sylus built his authority by taking control of illegal evol weapon and Protocore trade.
Now, someone is systematically dismantling that control.
Every investigation ends the same way.
Nothing.
Whoever is orchestrating this leaves no trace behind.
So Sylus decides to become the bait.
He stages a fake operation, intending to lure the mastermind into the open.
...
“Aww... you went to all this trouble just for little old me?”
A familiar voice drifts across the rooftop.
“You shouldn't have.”
Sylus turns.
There you stand.
Or rather...
A blurred outline of you.
Black-and-crimson mist coils around your body - his evol - but it never makes contact.
You click your tongue.
“Hello, Mephie.”
You give the mechanical crow a cheerful wave.
“It's nice to see you again.”
“How are the twins?”
Sylus ignores the question.
“So…”
“You're the thorn in my side.”
“What exactly is the game here?”
He takes a slow step forward.
“Was I really such a terrible partner that you joined EVER just to get revenge?”
You shrug.
“You know what they say.”
“Revenge is sweet.”
Tilting your head, you smile.
“Don't you remember the last thing I said before I walked away?”
Sylus's eyes darken.
His evol lashes out toward you.
Once again...
It passes harmlessly through your figure.
From the day you met, Sylus knew you were an Evolver.
He even knew your Evol belonged to both the Simulation and Spatium classes.
But never once had he seen you use it.
Until now.
“You had no problem playing games with my heart.”
Your voice echoes around him.
He can no longer see you.
“It's my turn now.”
The voice comes from directly behind him.
He spins around.
Nothing.
Only silence greets him.
It would seem Sylus has made himself a new enemy.
One far more dangerous than he ever imagined.
S-Rank Evol: Spectrum.
CALEB (Word count : 794)
Caleb has spent several weeks on a mission deep within the Deepspace Tunnels.
The day he returns, the two of you have plans to meet for dinner.
What he doesn't expect is for MC to show up at HQ.
She knew when his mission would end, but he never imagined she'd come to surprise him in person.
He quickly sends you a message, making up an excuse for why he can't make it.
He knows you wouldn't be happy if you found out the real reason.
...
After spending the entire day with MC, Caleb drops her off at the train station before finally heading home.
Your abrupt hang-up from earlier keeps replaying in his mind.
It wasn't like you.
The memory has been nagging at him ever since.
“Baaabe, I'm home.”
Silence.
“Babe?”
Still nothing.
He walks into the bedroom.
The wardrobe door is wide open.
His fingers trail across the hangers.
Empty spaces stare back at him.
Several of your clothes are missing.
A knot forms in his stomach.
He rushes into the bathroom.
All your toiletries are gone.
He calls you.
Once.
Twice.
Again and again.
No answer.
He opens the tracking app on his phone.
Location unavailable.
You turned it off.
He immediately checks your car's GPS.
Disconnected.
He didn't even know you knew he had been tracking your location.
Trying to think clearly, he runs through every place you might have gone.
Then it hits him.
The bar.
The place where the two of you first met after Gideon dragged him out for drinks.
Without another thought, he grabs his keys and leaves.
...
Sure enough, your car is parked outside.
Caleb makes his way through the crowded bar until he finally spots you sitting alone.
He slides into the seat across from you.
You let out a tired sigh.
You should have known this would be the first place he'd look.
“Babe…”
He reaches across the table.
You pull your hands away before he can touch them.
“Don't call me that.”
“I tried to be understanding,” you say with a bitter laugh. “Growing up, the two of you only had each other. Of course you'd be close. Of course you'd want to be the perfect big brother.”
Caleb immediately knows who you're talking about.
“I'm done feeling like the third wheel.”
Your fist slams onto the table.
“I kept trying to convince myself I was imagining things.”
“But even a blind person could see how hopelessly in love with her you are.”
Caleb says nothing.
The words catch in his throat.
For years, he'd buried those feelings.
Longing.
Yearning.
Wanting MC to be more than just the girl who grew up beside him.
Believing those feelings were wrong, he'd convinced himself they would disappear if he moved on.
Then he met you.
He truly cared about you.
But no matter how hard he tried...
He could never love you as deeply as he loved her.
He just never imagined you'd realize it.
A tear slips down your cheek.
“I deserve someone who chooses me first.”
Your voice barely rises above a whisper.
“And that's something you'll never be able to do.”
You stand.
Caleb rises with you, gently catching your wrist.
His grip is loose.
Almost pleading.
“We tried,” you say softly.
“But it's time for me to let you go.”
Standing on your tiptoes, you press one last kiss to his cheek before walking away.
...
Years later, Caleb wanders aimlessly through one of Skyhaven's parks.
You used to come here together all the time.
As he passes a large tree, he notices a little boy staring up into its branches.
Following the child's gaze, Caleb spots a kite tangled high above.
With a flick of his evol, gravity shifts.
The kite drifts gently down into the boy's waiting hands.
“Thank you, mister!”
For a moment, Caleb is struck by how familiar the boy's eyes look.
“Caleb!”
Both he and the boy turn toward the voice.
“Mama's calling!” the boy exclaims, waving happily. “Bye-bye!”
He runs across the grass.
Straight into the waiting arms of a woman.
Caleb recognizes you instantly.
You kneel to hug the little boy, smiling as another man walks over carrying three ice cream cones.
The resemblance between the man and the child is unmistakable.
Caleb watches the three of you walk away together.
A bittersweet smile touches his lips.
Things with MC never worked out.
In the end, she chose Zayne.
And you...
You found the happiness he could never give you.
As the laughter of your family fades into the distance, Caleb is left standing alone.
Exactly where his choices had led him.
He had spent so many years yearning for someone …
… that he ended up losing the woman who truly loved him.
VALKO (Word count : 673)
Valko's ears perk at the sound of a rustle outside his office.
He ends the call and pulls the door open, only to stop when he steps on several chocolate bars scattered across the floor beside a fallen plastic bag.
His eyes widen.
He strides down the hallway, just in time to catch a glimpse of your devastated expression as the elevator doors slide shut.
By the time he reaches the lobby, you're already gone.
He stands there, trying to make sense of what just happened.
Then it clicks.
You must have overheard his phone call.
He drags a hand down his face.
This is bad.
…
Over the next few days, Valko calls and messages you repeatedly, desperate to explain.
You ignore every single one.
He gives you another day, hoping you simply need space and that you'll reach out when you're ready.
You never do.
So he decides to come to you.
You live in the student dormitories on Linkon University's campus.
Avoiding security, he slips onto the grounds and circles around to the side of your building until he reaches your window.
After glancing around, he picks up a few small pebbles and tosses them lightly against the glass.
Finally, the window slides open.
Your eyes widen.
“What are you doing here?” you hiss.
“I didn't have a choice,” he whispers back. “You wouldn't answer me.”
He gestures toward you.
“Move back.”
Taking several steps away from the building, he crouches before launching himself upward.
Using his claws, he catches the windowsill and effortlessly pulls himself inside.
Normally, you'd giggle whenever he did this.
Today...
You don't even smile.
Your arms remain folded across your chest.
The playfulness vanishes from Valko's face, leaving behind only quiet seriousness.
“We need to talk.”
You sit on the edge of your bed.
The dorm room suddenly feels much smaller with Valko standing inside it.
“There isn't anything to talk about,” you reply quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.
“You heard my conversation at the office, didn't you?”
You nod.
His wolf ears immediately droop.
Without another word, he kneels in front of you and rests his head in your lap.
You don't push him away.
Silence stretches between you before he finally speaks.
“I'm sorry.”
His voice barely rises above a whisper.
“I really wanted it to be you.”
He means it.
Your scent had always been uniquely comforting to him, carrying the fresh, earthy fragrance of a forest - the very place wolves instinctively consider home.
He had convinced himself that if he stayed by your side long enough, Perhaps the mating bond would eventually awaken.
But, fate had chosen someone else.
“This doesn't have to be the end,” he says hopefully. “ We can still be friends.”
A sad smile tugs at your lips.
You reach up and gently scratch behind his wolf ears.
…
The two of you tried to stay friends.
But as Valko devoted himself to pursuing his fated mate while you buried yourself in your studies, the gap between you widened until the two of you drifted apart.
Now, the only reminder that either of you still exists comes once a year in form of a simple birthday text.
…
Valko absentmindedly scrolls through your Moments.
After graduating from university, you achieved your dream of becoming a wildlife biologist.
Every new post shows you somewhere different in the world, surrounded by forests, mountains, oceans, and the animals you've always loved.
You look genuinely happy.
As for Valko...
He spent months trying to convince MC to accept the mating bond between them.
She refused.
She told him that, as a human, she would never accept someone simply because fate declared them soulmates.
If she ever loved someone...
It would be because she chose them with her own heart.
Now, staring at your smiling face on his screen, Valko can't help but wonder...
What if he had done the same?
What if he had rejected fate...
...and chosen the woman who never needed an invisible bond to stand by his side.
*Notices you write for LADS*
Two questions:
1) Do you write for Non-MC?
2) Do you write for Valko?
hello !
i actually have no clue about valko as i am not too deep in the fandom and just play lads casually, but i can look into his character and then write for him ! ( *｀ω´)
i can write for non-mc, just specify how you‘d like me to write the reader when requesting.
have a lovely day and i hope that i could answer your questions. if still unsure just comment or send me a dm !
Requests are open, free scenarios only @sailorstar9 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
