Due to the recent news of infold canceling Valko, I have created a petition to release Valko to Western Countries only. Please sign this because this is literally our only chance at saving him now. I beg you you to BE VOCAL so you can be seen. Our love for Valko matters!!!
To be Valko's right hand isn't just a job, it's a commitment. it's a lifestyle. Sure he pays well. Sure he's the longest friend you ever had, but sometimes , you just wished he respected your sleep schedule.
Your head whips so fast it made you dizzy. He waves at you, phone still in hand as he is perched on the rails of your window. You almost scream if not for you falling of the bed. His tail wags in amusement from your mishap and you have no choice but to open the window.
"Awww! See I know you love me."
He engulfs you with his rain soaked arms and nuzzles his chin on top your head. This would've been sweet if not for a fact that his skin is sticky from the grime of outside. You scream (a very normal reaction if you ask him) and he has no choice but to muffle you with his chest. You start daggers at him.
"I told you! No outside clothes in my bedroom. Dang it, you have your own house! You have a fucking pent house with a hot tub! Why must you always terrorize the poor? " You practically rap, as you push him away.
"But your place is nearer." He says as he makes himself at home, shaking off his boots and taking his bath towel hanging from the back of your bedroom door. It's been to many times and you know better.
"You. Are. A. Bad. Dog." You whisper as you pick up the discarded shoe with your foot and place it nearly beside the door.
The audible gasp from him almost makes you jump out of your skin.
Im so angry rn I can't even speak, like i'm legit still tryna process everything.
So the winner takes it all just started playing so I felt the need to write this. To the CN girlies and people who so desperately wanted Valko to be removed, I hope you're happy and fuck you.
I dont play the game as much anymore and I might just never again because im beyond upset right now. Mostly for the players who actually liked Valko and all the people who worked so hard to bring him to life.
All that coding, voice acting, art, motion capturing, etc and the plans to wish for him all gone down the drain simply because parasocial "fans" couldn't handle another love interest. It's a game, it was never that serious, you would have lived.
And the fact that Infold gave into them. My expectations were already low but holy fuck. Just goes to show that they care more about what the CN players think than the western players(they've showed it before tbh).
Im genuinely so pissed rn.
Im not good with words so im sorry if this sounds insensitive or misinformative.
Synopsis: He called you his forever, but now, you’re nothing more than a fleeting whisper in the wind.
Pairing: Valko x nonMC reader
cw: hurt/no comfort, do NOT read unless your feelings have a death wish
Back then, he was yours.
Back then, he told you that no one else in the world mattered more to him than you.
‘You are my everything,’ is what he said.
Back when the world knew nothing about him, and it was just the two of you. You were his, and he was yours, and you were convinced nothing will ever change that.
You loved him. Deeply. Even when he told you the truth of what he really was, you still accepted him.
‘Nothing will ever change my love for you,’ is what you told him.
You even lived together, your home one of playful laughter and at times quiet comfort; one of dependence and trust, love and support.
You had matching promise rings, ones that he surprised you with on your two year anniversary, his initials carved into your ring and yours into his.
‘These rings will be proof of my promise of forever to you.’
Liar. He was such a liar.
June 22, a day you will never forget. That day, grey clouds covered the sky with the promise of rain, thunder rumbling in the distance as an ominous feeling of dread settled deep in your bones. He was supposed to be home by now, so why wasn’t he?
The dinner that you prepared for the two of you sat cold and neglected on your dining table, while you paced back and forth in the living room looking at the darkening sky above.
You called him, once, twice, three times and he still didn’t pick up. Rain started to come down in rivulets that pounded against the glass windows, roaring thunder and flashes of lightning streaking across the sky.
But suddenly, you remembered something.
He told you that he sometimes goes running in the woods to clear his mind, and also at times when he gets an adrenaline rush. He even took you to his usual running spot in the woods to run with you.
It was a reckless thought, really, to go out there to find him in the pouring rain when it was close to nighttime.
It was odd because he’s never done this before, he always texted you if he will be late or when he was coming home; even when he was busy.
But there wasn’t single call or text message from him, your phone was just…silent, adding to growing dread that you felt in your chest.
So you drove out to the woods to find him, rain soaking your clothes and hair when you exit the car, mud staining your shoes and pants as you trek through the dense forest.
You were close to tears when an hour had passed and you still didn’t find him, panic and worry crawling up your throat as your breath came out short and uneven.
The sky cleared and the full moon was now visible, illuminating the dense forest…
And the figure that stood on jagged rocks, the tips of his ears in his wolf form like a shadow against the light.
When you called out his name, raw and broken, he turned around slowly, and what you saw punched what little breath you had left out of you.
His usual warm, molten gold gaze has turned cold and hard as ice, his lips set into deep frown as his eyes settled on you.
‘Who are you?’
Dreads ugly claws came to wrap itself around your throat, your eyes wide in panic as you desperately hoped this wasn’t real.
But it seems he really didn’t remember you, not even you told him your name and what your relations to him were. Not even when you told him that you lived together and did everything with each other.
If anything, every word that came out of your mouth seemed to piss him off even more, scoffing as he turned his back on you to leave.
That was when you tearfully choked out, ‘You promised me forever! You said- you said I was your forever!’
With that, he paused and looked down at the ring adorning his finger, the moon shining off the band as you desperately searched his face for any sign of recognition. Anything.
But he scoffed, his face filled with disdain as he took the ring off of his finger and threw it at your feet, staining it with mud and grime.
‘I’ve never heard such delusions before, but if I really said all that…then perhaps I didn’t mean it.’
And with that, he took off into the endless dark night, leaving your heart shattered into a million pieces of glass as you clutched the now dirty ring to your chest, full body sobs wrecking and shaking you as your wet clothes clung to your damp skin.
Three days later, you see him on the screen of your tv, but he’s not alone.
You see him with a woman by his side, one that you recognize as that famous hunter from the association.
Anger and jealousy flares in your chest, but also a feeling of emptiness as you hastily shut the tv off, the house now completely silent.
There’s no sound of his laughter, no more of his little teasing remarks. The house is now empty, the chair across from you when you eat dinner?
Empty.
The spot next to you on the sofa when you watch tv?
Empty.
The other side of the bed when you go to sleep at night?
Completely, and achingly…
Empty.
At night, you hug the pillow that he used, the scent of him still lingering on the fabric as your tears soak it, the ring that he threw back at you that you put on a chain cold against your chest, the metal biting into your skin.
You have nothing left in you anymore, your heart just as empty and numb as the house that the two of you used to share.
He called you his forever, but now you’re nothing more than a fleeting whisper in the wind.
a/n: Damn…you know, I am a firm believer in hurt/comfort, but who would’ve thought I would make a hurt/no comfort fic? I guess the feels were really hitting me tonight lol. Also, I recommend listening to Moon Halo while reading this! I had it on repeat towards the end, and that’s when the feels really started hitting.😔
Synpopsis: You celebrate Luke’s birthday together with him, basically very fluffy and cute.
Genres/Tropes: Romance, Slow Burn, Coming-of-Age, Comedy, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Possesive x Possesive
Pairings: Luke x reader (nonMc), Caleb x MC, Caleb x nonMc
a/n: kinda long, oops.
Chapter 4: Happy Birthday Luke!
Three days before Luke’s birthday, you’re wrapping the last present for him in decorative paper, securing it with tape and putting a bow on top of it.
All the presents that you got him aligned with his interests; some riddle books, a small wooden storage box, and a key necklace that goes with the box to unlock it.
You thought about getting him a camera, but all of them were expensive and you didn’t have enough to get him one.
‘I’ll just save up and maybe get him one next year. If he doesn’t get one by then already.’ You thought.
That is…if he’s still around when next year comes.
You shake your head as you will yourself to stop thinking about that, redirecting your thoughts to how you’re going to give the presents to Luke.
Should you give it to him at school? Hmmm…no, you want him to take his time when he opens his presents. Maybe after school at his house?
At that thought, it’s like a light bulb goes off in your head as you get up off the floor and run downstairs; your heart racing as you dial his home phone number, hoping that his mother will pick up and not him.
The line clicks as a kind voice comes from the other side. “Hello?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sigh in relief. “Hello Mrs. Pearce.” You say.
“Oh! Hello!” Judging from her voice, she sounds pleasantly surprised. “How are you?”
“I’m good, how about you?” You say as you return her question.
“Oh I’m well, thank you. What can I do for you?” She inquires kindly.
“Well…if you don’t mind, do you think you can help me do something together?”
Three days later, it’s Luke’s birthday, and you and Rena have been putting together a plan to surprise him.
The plan was, on the day of his birthday after school, you have to keep him busy for the rest of the day until the evening while she prepares the house and decorates the cake for the surprise. Simple, right?
And the good thing is, you already decided where you were going to take him for the rest of the evening.
The bell rings as it signals the end of the school day, the mid afternoon sun shining through the windows and bathing everything in a bright yellow glow.
Closing your eyes for a second, you bask in the warmth of it as it shines on your face, letting out a content sigh as you pack your backpack and sling it over your shoulders, on your way to find Luke.
As you exit the classroom, you’re about to walk forward when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A part of you hopes it will be Luke when you turn around, but nope. It’s Emcee.
“Hey! Caleb and I were going to go to the new cafe that opened recently, want to join us?” She asks as she smiles at you, her eyes shining with hope.
For the first time in a while, you don’t even feel yourself hesitate when she asks you this; your mind made up days ago and your resolve strong.
You wanted to spend Luke’s birthday with him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Luke making his way down the corridor away from you, the sun shining on his back as it illuminates his hair in a honey glow.
You feel something almost, but not quite like desperation as his figure becomes smaller and smaller as he continues walking away from you.
“Sorry, maybe next time,” you say apologetically, shaking her hand off your shoulder lightly as you jog your way down the corridor to catch up to him, “I have to keep the birthday boy busy today!”
You’re grinning now as you sprint down the hallway, leaving Emcee there by herself with all the other students preparing to leave and go home for the day.
Your heart is full and feels as warm as the sun when you catch up to him, lightly poking him on his back as you come to walk beside him. “Happy birthday Luke!” You exclaim happily.
His features light up in surprise when he sees you, but it quickly changes into a fond smile as he looks at you, letting out a light laugh. “Thanks, but, didn’t you tell me that this morning too?”
You hum happily, “There’s no harm in saying it again though! Anyway-” you change the subject as you walk in front of him, making him stop in his footsteps.
“Today, I’m taking you out!” You announce.
His lips quirk upward in amusement. “Like, on a date, or with a sniper gun?” He jokes.
You let out a laugh at the familiar meme as you continue walking forward. “I’ll surprise you.” You say with a hint of mystery as you smile to yourself.
Luke laughs, warm and brightly as he catches up to you, his voice taking on something curious. “Wait- seriously though. Where are you taking me?”
“The arcade?” He asks to not really anyone in particular, looking around the arcade and its bright neon lights as loud, playfully energetic music plays.
“Yep.” You say as you return with a bunch of tokens. “That is, unless you want to go somewhere else. It’s your birthday after all-” You’re about to offer another suggestion before he quickly cuts you off.
“No! It’s okay, I’ve been wanting to come here a while!” He exclaims as he reassures you. “Come on, I want to go to…that one!” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond before he takes off, leaving you to quickly follow him as you smile and laugh to yourself.
‘He looks so excited.’ You think as you look at his gleaming eyes and wide smile. ‘I want to protect his smile…’
Huh? What exactly are you thinking?
You catch yourself at the thought; why exactly were you thinking? You don’t know, and honestly? You don’t, or won’t, let yourself continue that thought.
“By the way,” he suddenly says, “you look like you’ve been lugging around your backpack all day. Is it heavy? Want me to carry it for you?” He offers.
Your eyes widen in panic as you adjust your backpack on shoulders, trying to make your voice sound as nonchalant as possible. “No, it’s okay. I can carry it.”
His brow draws down as he sees the way the straps are digging into your shoulders. “Are you sure? I can-”
You cut him off, “It’s okay! Really. It’s not that heavy, it’s just I have a few more books today than usual, that’s all.” If he holds your backpack, he might become suspicious since you’ve been carrying around his presents in your bag all day.
“Oh, okay then. If you’re sure.” He says hesitantly.
So the two of you spend the next couple hours or so playing games and winning prizes, you doing your best to distract him until you get a message from his mom to come home.
But it turns out that you didn’t need to try too hard, because right now, he was currently invested in his opponent that he’s been fighting for the past 30 minutes.
The claw machine.
You’ve been holding the bowl of tokens while he plays, him taking one after another every time he failed in getting the puppy plushie he wanted. You’ve thought about offering to get it for him, but it was his birthday, and after all, you wanted him to do whatever he so pleased today.
You watch with an amused but tired smile on your face as he fails once again, the machine letting out the same cute but now annoying chime for the upteenth time. “Awww, maybe next time! Try again!”
Luke groans in frustration as he glances down at the bowl in your hands, sighing as he scratches the back of his neck.
You also let out a tired sigh as you attempt to comfort him, and maybe also try to redirect his attention somewhere else. “It’s okay Luke, why don’t we try somewhere else? We only have a few tokens left after all.” You suggest gently.
You flinch as his head that was down suddenly snaps up, his posture straightening as he looks at you.
Luke suddenly smiles at you sweetly as he gives you his best puppy eyes. “But…I really wanted to get that plushie. Do you think…you can get it for me? Please?” He asks as his lips form into a soft pout.
‘No! Please not the puppy eyes!’ You think in a panic, but find yourself unable to look anywhere else but his pleading gaze.
You internally groan as his eyes shine pleadingly, unable to refuse him. Not that you would anyway, you’ve been itching to give it a try after all.
You let out a resigned sigh, “I thought you’d never ask.” You say as you hand the bowl to him and roll up your sleeves in preparation.
Luke grins in anticipation as you take a coin out of the bowl put it into the machine. Since each coin gives you two tries, you technically have 5 more tries if you don’t get it this time.
The claw moves as you move the joystick into position above the plushie, and deeming that it’s in the right position, you press the button as the claw lowers slowly.
Your heart beats in anticipation as you and Luke gasp in excitement at the same time, the claw picking up the plushie and carrying it over to the slot.
Only for it to drop it halfway there.
“Oh come on!” You exclaim frustratedly. “It’s fine, I still have another try.” You mutter in determination as you move the joystick above the plushie again, pushing the button as it lowers once more.
You glare daggers at the claw as it picks it up again and carries it over to the slot, as if you can will it to make it to the finish line. Meanwhile, Luke lets out consecutive excited ‘oh’s!’ behind you as it drops down the slot.
“Yes!” You and Luke exclaim at the same time as you get the plushie from the opening below.
You hand it over to him with a proud smile on your face, but pause when you see the way he’s looking at you.
He has a big grin on his face as he looks at you with a combination of awe and adoration, his eyes shining like coral gems in the sunlight. “Wow,” he breathes, “you’re amazing! You were able to get it in only two tries!”
Your pride swells at his praise as your cheeks flush slightly from embarrassment. “Hehe, well, I’m something of a claw machine master myself.” You chuckle proudly.
Luke lets out a laugh as his eyes fill with mirth. “Yep, you’re the best.” He says softly as he takes the plushie from you, your fingers brushing against each other when he takes it.
Your heart jumps at the contact, a tingling feeling left in its wake as the both of you quickly retract your hands, your cheeks becoming even more red than before.
Luke clears his throat as his face turns bright red, looking anywhere but you as he mumbles, “S-sorry.”
“Uhhh, don’t worry! I-it’s fine.” You stutter as your phone vibrates, giving you an excuse to turn away from him as you hide your burning face.
Luke stretches as he lets out a sigh. “Are you ready to go home now? I’m getting hungry.” He says, trying to change the subject; his stomach growling as if to emphasize the fact.
You put your phone back in your pocket as you turn to him with a smile. “S-sure, let’s go.”
Perfect timing, because you just got a message from his mom telling you that everything was prepared and ready for when you brought him home.
The sun has set behind the horizon by the time you get home, the view akin to an artist that brushed burnt orange and petal pink against a clear, evening blue sky.
As you approach his front door, you stand a few feet behind him as he knocks on the door before turning around to face you. “Aren’t you going to go home too?” He asks curiously.
“Yeah, I just make sure that you get inside safely.” You lie, giving him a big smile.
You don’t know if it’s because of the cold, but his cheeks suddenly turn a bright shade of pink as his eyes widen in surprise.
He looks down as he mutters sheepishly, “Heh, if this is how you treat me on my birthday, then I wish it was my birthday everyday.”
Now it’s your turn to blush at his sudden confession, clearing your throat before you speak. “It doesn’t have to be your birthday for me to do this. If you want, I can walk you home everyday. But, isn’t that the same as walking home everyday together?” You suddenly ask.
“Uhhh, w-well,” he stutters, “yeah, it is. Umm, just forget what I said! Thank you for taking me out!” His words come out in a rush as he grabs to door handle.
‘Man, why is this so awkward?’ You groan to yourself, but you don’t have time to dwell on it before the door opens.
All you hear is a gasp of shock from Luke and a, ‘surprise!’ from Rena as he walks through the door, you following close behind him with a big grin on your face.
The entryway is decorated with a banner that has big letters on it that says, ‘Happy Birthday Luke!’ with confetti scattered on the floor. Walking further in when you go to the living room, the lights are turned off, and the current source of light is coming from the little golden fairy lights that decorate the pillow fort that Rena made; different fluffy pillows and blankets under the white sheet that makes the ‘roof.’ A Christmas tree sits in the corner of the living room, the decorative lights on it the same colour as the fairy lights, bathing everything in the living room in a warm glow.
The ceiling has decorative paper stars that hang from it, stars that you and Rena made together the other day when Luke was at his martial arts class. The presents that she wrapped for him are to the right of the opening of fort, covered in decorative paper as well.
Luke looks around in awe with a big smile on his face, his eyes filling with childlike glee as he look at you and his mother. “Wait- did the two of you plan this? Wow! This- this is amazing!”
Rena comes to put a gentle hand on his shoulder, her smile mirroring the happiness in her gaze. “Actually, it was her idea, and I just helped her execute it.” She says as she winks at you.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, you try to brush off all the credit that she gives you. “Pshhh nooo, you helped me too. It wasn’t just me, you were the one that came up with the idea of paper stars.”
Luke lets out a happy laugh. “Thank you both!”
“Now then,” Rena suddenly says, clapping her hands together, “let’s eat, shall we? Then we can have cake!”
You already asked your parents if you could have dinner by his house to celebrate his birthday with him, so they already now that you’re here.
After dinner, you carry the cake over to the coffee table in the living room, setting it down in front of Luke as his eyes light up.
Lemon cake is what he asked for, and no, not lemon pound cake, but an actual cake with lemon curd and frosting.
Your mouth waters at the sight of it, it looked so delectable and beautifully decorated, you couldn’t help but admire it yourself.
Rena comes back with a lighter, lighting the one and six on top of the cake, the orange flames illuminating the cake in a warm orange glow.
She begins clapping her hands with a fond smile as she sings happy birthday to him, you joining in hesitantly as you also begin clapping your hands to her rhythm.
“Now, make a wish.” You say as you smile at him.
Luke grins, his coral eyes shining like marbles as they reflect the flames, making them look even more like evening summer sunsets, leaving you temporarily hypnotized by them.
But you soon snap out of your trance when he closes his eyes, clasping his hands together as he makes a wish.
He reopens his eyes with a smile as he blows the candles out in one blow, you and Rena clapping as you cheer. “Yay! Happy birthday Luke!” You both say at the same time.
He lets out a laugh as warm as the candles he just blew out. “Thank you!”
His mom cuts the cake for the three of you, putting them on plates as you take a slice.
The first bite you take is like fireworks exploding in your mouth; the lemon cake delectably moist with the perfect crumb, the lemon curd has the perfect blend of tanginess and sweetness, and the buttercream frosting ties it all together in the perfect bite.
Your eyes are blown wide as you chew, letting out an almost strangled sound as you swallow. “Wow, Mrs. Pearce…this is amazing!”
She laughs at your reaction, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles. “Please, you’re too kind.”
“Mom’s cakes are seriously the best! She’s amazing at baking!” Luke exclaims, demolishing the last bite of cake on his plate. “Thanks Mom!” He says with a big toothy grin.
Her eyes soften, her voice taking on something fond. “You’re welcome honey.” She says, grabbing a napkin to wipe the frosting that he got on the corner of his mouth.
“Now then,” she suddenly says, grabbing two plates before standing up, “I’ll take these to the sink, and then we can open presents.”
“Oh, I’ll help you.” You say, grabbing the third plate and following her. “We’ll be back!” You call back at Luke as he nods.
As she washes the dishes and you dry, she suddenly says something that you weren’t expecting.
“Thank you for coming here, it’s nice to have a third person to celebrate with. It hasn’t been like this since his father passed away.” She says, her voice carrying a hint of sorrow.
That makes you pause, unsure what to say. It wasn’t that you didn’t wonder where his father was, you just didn’t want to ask in case it made him uncomfortable. After all, you didn’t think you were that close yet to talk about family matters.
And even now, you didn’t really want to push and question how he passed away, just in case it was still a sensitive topic. “It’s no problem, I’m glad to be here.” You say, trying your best to sound sincere and not awkward at all.
Suddenly, she laughs. “Please, it’s okay. No need to be so stiff.” She reassures kindly.
You lower your head sheepishly, your cheeks turning slightly pink. “Sorry.” You mutter.
“Ah, none of that.” She says, wiping her hands on the cloth to dry them as she pats you on your back, “Come on, let’s not keep Luke waiting any longer.”
You nod as you make your way to the living room where Luke is, his head perking up from his phone as you enter.
“Presents time~!” She sing songs as she sits down on the sofa.
You go to your backpack that’s sitting on the sofa, taking out the three presents that you’ve been lugging around all day.
Luke smiles knowingly as you place them by the ones his mom wrapped by the fort, glancing at him as you place them down.
“No wonder you didn’t want me to carry your backpack for you, you knew I might be suspicious if I felt the weight of it.” He smirks, his voice filled with amusement.
“At least I succeeded in keeping it a secret from you.” You say, sitting on the floor by the fort.
He chuckles, looking at the presents in front of him, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Now…whose should I open first? Hmm…” He hums as he picks up the ones his mother wrapped. “I’ll open Mom’s first, then yours. That way, I can build up anticipation.” He says as he smiles at you, making your pulse skip a beat.
What he got from his mom was socks, some mystery novels, and a fuzzy sweater.
“Thanks Mom!” He grins, getting up from the floor to give her a hug.
“You’re welcome.” She says, patting his back as he makes his way back to his spot on the floor.
“Alright! Your turn!” He exclaims excitedly as he opens the first present, letting out a gasp as his eyes light up. “Wow! Riddle books!”
He opens the next present, the small wooden storage box that you wrapped. “Oooo, this is nice. I can put all the antique stuff I find in here.”
And finally, the small box with the key necklace. He holds it up to the light as his face takes on something slightly confused, but before you can explain it to him, he quickly catches on with a gasp. “Wait- is this for the key hole in the box?” He asks, turning to you as if to confirm.
You nod. “Yeah, and you can wear it around your neck too.”
He lips slowly stretch into a grin as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, catching you off guard.
You’re enveloped by the warmth of his body and the solid hold he has on you; your nose tucked between the crook of his neck and shoulder as you inhale his scent, laundry detergent and something sweet like…lemon.
Your face goes up in flames as you hesitantly wrap your own arms around him, flinching when he suddenly whispers by your ear.
“Thank you.” He says softly, his voice like gentle ripples over water as he pulls away slightly, his own cheeks tinged a shade of pink as he avoids your gaze, suddenly shy.
“You’re…welcome.” You mumble, his shyness making you even more nervous for some reason.
“My, my.”
Remembering that his mother is in the living room with you, the two of you quickly pull away from each other as if you got burnt by something hot. At least…that’s how you felt.
My, my indeed. You’re not catching feelings are you?
‘Shut up!’ You think, your mind already a flustered mess, and all from a simple hug.
“Don’t mind me at all, please continue.” His mother says teasingly as she watches you with her arm on her knee as her hand cups her face, chuckling at how the two of you are the same shade of scarlet.
“Mom!” Luke hisses, embarrassed.
She laughs out loud, clearly amused by the spectacle in front of her eyes.
Meanwhile, you sit there in embarrassed silence as you internally groan to yourself, wishing the ground will swallow you whole right now.
“Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing. It’s movie time now!”
What movie were you watching you ask?
Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone.
You liked this movie series, and the first movie really vibed with the current season.
You were huddled under the pillow fort with snacks and fluffy blankets and pillows, the fairy lights draped over the sheet making it feel almost magical. It was a cozy experience, an experience that would be forever engrained into your memory
By the time the movie ended, it was after nine o’clock and time to go home.
You bid goodnight to Rena, and Luke offered to walk you home, saying that it was dark and not safe to walk home by yourself at night; even though your house wasn’t that far away.
No matter how many times you told him it was okay, he still insisted, and it would be rude if you kept rejecting him, no?
Now, you were walking side by side, albeit slowly, as if neither of you wanted this day to end just yet.
It was amazing really, how much fun you were able to have whenever Luke was by your side. You were convinced he had some good luck charm about him, because how was it that it seemed only good things happened when you were with him?
From everything that happened to arcade to now, it all made you feel very happy. Was it normal to feel this much happiness? Especially that hug. That hug was still fresh in your memory, making your heart race whenever you think about it.
The two of you mostly just bumped each other’s sides playfully, or would put a hand on each other’s shoulder. But that hug was the closest the two of you had ever been, and you were still a bit surprised from it really, making you question if that really even happened at all. The way his body felt so warm against yours was real though, too real, and the way his arms were wrapped around you made you feel so safe and secure…
“Thank you for today.” Luke suddenly says, making you snap out of your thoughts.
You mentally hit yourself for thinking stuff like that while he’s still next to you, grateful that he can’t see the flush creeping up your neck because of the dark. “Oh, you’re welcome.” You say.
Luke looks up at the starry, clear night sky as he continues walking forward. “And for the presents. I’ll really cherish it.” He says, suddenly stopping to look at you sincerely.
You hold eye contact with him for no more than three seconds before looking away, your heart beating erratically in your chest. He doesn’t know what he does to you whenever he looks at you like that, does he? “I’m glad you like it.” You mutter.
“Well, looks like we’re here.” He sighs almost disappointedly as you stop in front of your house. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He asks as he smiles at you warmly.
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You reply, giving him a small smile of your own.
You stare at each other, your hesitance clear in the way you don’t go in right away, and the way he seems hesitant to leave. But eventually, you slowly make your way up the steps of your house, turning around after knocking when he calls your name.
He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly before raising his hand to wave at you, his cheeks flushing as he gives you a shy smile. “Goodnight.”
Seeing how he’s all shy and blushy makes you feel giddy for some reason, giving him a grin before the door opens. “Goodnight.” You say, looking at him one last time before you go through your door, shutting it as it locks with a click.
However, Luke still doesn’t leave right away as he stands there, watching the golden light in your window turn on behind the shut blinds, illuminating the sidewalk in a slightly golden glow.
As the light from your window reflects in his coral eyes, the only way to describe the way he looks is yearning. As if there’s a piece of him that he’s been searching for and missing, and he’s finally found it.
Reluctantly, he turns around and he makes his way back home as his figure becomes smaller and smaller, the moonlight illuminating his back as he disappears into the dark night.
a/n: Thank you for reading! 🥰 Also, I just thought I would say this again just in case, but the next chapter will be the end of winter arc, not this one. It would have been too long to include everything I wanted to happen, so the next chapter will be it!(⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)
Summary: What hurts more? To realise that their 'perfection' is purposefully written or how easily it is to be discarded by the one they were written for? They'll find out when you make your final decision.
Pairings: LADS Love Interests x Non/MC
Warnings: Description of death and chaos. Gore & violence. Mention of rape. Mention of religious symbolism.
"We are interrupting all current global news programming. This is not a drill, this is not a scheduled alert—"
Somewhere in an underground bunker packed with people, a mother is clutching her children tightly. "It's OK. We're OK. Your father is here somewhere, he has to..." She whispers, she never stops comforting them, even when she couldn't contact her husband.
"—evacuation routes are collapsing, I can see civilians trapped underneath—"
Traffic stops 30 minutes ago when drivers abandon their cars, taking only the necessities and their loved ones with them as they frantically run away to safety. But where's that when you know that you won't make it in time?
"Skyhaven is falling. I repeat: Skyhaven is falling and we are now confirming—"
Which is stronger? The roaring of the sharp, descending wind or the collective scream of an entire metropolis falling to its death?
"Dispatched Protocore defense unit from the Fleet is gone. Failure all but confirmed. No return transmissions. No survival signals. A full decimation caused by a single Elysian Knave—"
The once clear, blue sky is littered with ear-splitting explosions of orange and red, wrapped in a cacophony of choking black smoke. A fucked up parody of a firework with pieces of the airships and mangled limbs joining the fall.
"—Estimated that Linkon City will be a calamity zone in less than 20 minutes. It's pandemonium, unlike anything we've seen before—
Mass hysteria swept the streets when the bunkers had no choice but to turn away the desperate. Not out of cruelty, but out of lack of sheer space. Riots broke out. The opportunists broke into shops, stealing everything they could and leaving nothing but shattered glass.
"Remaining Fleet forces are engaged against a never-ending wave of Wanderers that until now, we still have no idea where they are coming from. But Skyhaven's last line of defense is losing cohesion. Wanderers are no longer isolated. They are coordinating. They are adapting mid-engagement—"
The death toll refuses to stop rising as soldiers and civilians are caught in the massacre of blades and bullets. Nowhere and no one is safe from monsters that are on a killing spree with almost blatant prejudice.
"—this is not behavioral randomness, I repeat, this is structured movement, they are learning counter-tactics faster than we can deploy them—"
A group of scientists and mechanics, frantically trying to repair the gravitational field, is making their last stand as a Heatshredder closes in.
"Global defense coalitions are fully deployed. Deepspace Hunters are on-site across all active zones, and yet Skyhaven's descent rate is increasing—"
"There! I see a clear landing spot. Get us over there!"
"I can't, Captain Jena! We receive reports that anoter new wave of Wanderers are coming for that area! We'll be overwhelmed as soon as we land!"
"Damn it all! Find another spot, quick!"
And then suddenly... the entire planet takes a deep breath.
"—I can see the sky shifting! I can actually see it moving—"
"Can you repeat that last transmission!?"
"I said the sky—Wait. Skyhaven... Skyhaven just stops. I-It's not falling, it's... stalling? Attention, every mobilising personnel! Skyhaven is now stalled in mid-fall—"
"We detect semi-unknown energy signatures where the Gravity Protocre was. One of them is not Fleet-issued? What could—Zoom in, zoom in NOW—"
"We have visual sightings of the Farspace Feet Colonel currently using his Evol to stall Skyhaven itself, and with him is... no, are we seeing this right? Is that the leader of Onychinus helping him!? What the fuck is going on!?"
The screaming stops, and those below in Linkon City tremble as they tilt their heads. At that moment, humanity also takes a deep breath, wondering the same thing: What happens now?
"Caleb! Sylus!" MC ran like the hellhounds themselves were nipping at her heels in order to get to the two, dodging falling debris and a hail of projectiles from men and monsters alike as soon as Captain Jena ordered them to disembark. It was nothing but a stroke of luck that she and a small team were sent to assess whatever was left of Skyhaven's Protocre, while the rest either joined the fight or provided cover for the medical and relief stations.
Help from every corner of the planet arrives in droves as soon as Skyhaven stops falling long enough for them to land. Evacuation became the top priority when Wanderers wouldn't stop appearing out of thin air.
The scene that MC found herself in, however, was something she, or anyone else, for that matter, couldn't ever imagine: With his Evol fully unleashed, phantom energy intertwining in black and red like a coil of muscle, wrapped around the very foundation of the island. Given the sheer massive size of Skyhaven? It struck the other Hunters in awe with a tinge of uneasiness at the blatant display of power, but what made MC quickly take a picture in case they all survive today is the number of grim yet still-determined Fleet officers surrounding Sylus, protecting him from incoming Wanderers instead of arresting him.
Nearby, Caleb was receiving similar treatment, with Luke and Kieran guarding him while he helped keep the island afloat. That's when MC looks closely and notices a hint of blue sparkles coating the black-and-red tendrils... and blood trickles from the side of his head.
"Wait. You're... you're Skye!" Tara gasped, and MC winced as she pivoted between them. Sylus, for his part, simply tosses a condescending smirk, though sweat lines his forehead. He's getting exhausted. "What the—"
"I'll explain later," MC insists. Thankfully, Tara and the rest of the unit didn't press further when she drew out her guns, signaling them to be ready for combat. "How can we help? Where's the Knave?"
"It flew off." Caleb replies, gritting his teeth as he channels every ounce of control and concentration into his Evol. He orders Adjutant Liam to take their officers and bring the Hunters to the nearby explosion. Sure enough, a group of new Wanderers is coming straight for them. Tara gives a perplexed look at MC when she chooses to stay behind, but bites her lip and follows after everyone else.
Now it's just her, Caleb, Sylus, and the twins.
"Tigress summoned them," Sylus says as apropos of nothing, his breathing laboured now. Luke hurried to his side, but Sylus shook his head, since there's nothing he could do. "Seems the good Coloned burned the last thread of her mercy."
"Before the Protocore was destroyed, we noticed the Fleet's HQ was missing. It's pretty obvious that this entire mess started there." Kieran chips in, blithely ignoring Caleb's glare.
"Did you kidnapped her again? Caleb!"
"Whoa, I didn't! You know I won't, Pips! She came to my office while I was on the clock. I was just as surprise as you!"
MC stills. You... you went to see him? Willingly? But you never did that for any of them. Unless... "Is it because of whatever ploy you cooked up with Sylus?" She asks, remembering how the two had informed her of their plans regarding you; the barest of bones they may be: To strongly pull or gently push you to fall into their waiting arms.
With her at the centre of course.
But then Caleb glared at Sylus and grunted out, "Who knew the head of Onychinus can't keep his mouth shut, though? Your so-called charisma did jack shit on Nugget."
Sylus scoffs while MC can't help but coo at his nickname for you, momentarily distracted at the thought of nibbling you like an actual nugget. "You try facing an enraged woman that defy the known laws of our universe and then ask her to stand down long enough so she would listen. See if your world would still hold up. Oh wait."
Caleb glares at him, having to reluctantly acknowledge that he's got a point.
"I had no choice! None of us has been producing the results we wanted with her, and time isn't exactly on our side."
"What exactly did you said?"
"I showed her the Toring Chip. She instantly knew what it was, but then she reacted like she'd just discovered it for the first time. I'm still trying to figure out how that makes any sense."
MC stalks towards Caleb so fast, invading his personal bubble, that Sylus immediately shut his mouth before he could reply. Angrily, she grabbed at his uniform lapel. "You should have eased her into it instead of scaring her! We all knew she's been under a lot of stressed and you springing that Chip at her without warning was the last thing we needed!" While Caleb looked downward in shame, her heart twisted and broke just thinking of how frightened you must've been. Alone for so long... it's not right! She'll make it right by you, and then you'll be happy again. Together with them, as you should from the very beginning.
"What's the plan now, Kitten?" Sylus intervene after some time. Luke and Kieran politely ignore how the Colonel looked like a kicked puppy.
"Finding her is top priority but the Protocore..." MC bit her lip, thinking hard. "Is there an alternative power source? Or is it possible for the two of you to land the island elsewhere?"
"Skyhaven's backup Protocore has only been tested-approved in simulations. Given that it's artificial too—" Caleb grits out and the ground trembles to which Sylus increase his out of energy to stabilise the island further. "The power to sustain the island would only last a day at most." At Sylus and MC's mutual look of incredulous, Caleb defended, "Anything that can take down the Fleet and Skyhaven is considered a Planet-Level threat. The backup Protocore is to make sure we have enough time to evacuate every soul when all hope is lost."
That sums you up neatly with a pretty bow on top.
Mn... wrapped in a bow... with soft skin peeking in between the—
Sylus suddenly coughs, amused despite roleplaying as Atlas. "As much as it pains me to interrupt that delightful train of thought, Kitten, I propose we get that backup Protocore running then we'll hunt for our wayward Tigress."
MC felt her blood rush in embarrassment as she fights to keep her blush down. Focus, damn it! "R-Right! The twins and I can go. Where's the location and how can we activate it?"
When Caleb list down the coordinates, Luke efficiently work together with Mephisto to gain a wider, aerial view and when he carefully explain the step-by-step details, Kieran recorded it for good measure. Just before they left however, both Caleb and Sylus gave some pieces of advice.
"Don't bother engaging the Wanderers. They're hers," Sylus warned. It was probably unnecessary, but he continued anyway. "Some of them are evolving in more than just intelligence. And whatever they're becoming… I don't think we've seen the worst of it yet."
Next is Caleb.
"I… I don't know where she went after she shot me. Gravity spared me the bullet, but I wasn't quick enough to stop her from summoning her endless horde. She vanished while we were distracted." His expression is a strange combination of regretful and omnious. "Be careful, Pips."
With a resolute nod, MC left with Luke and Kieran. Some Hunters and leftover Fleet officers catch up to them and when MC shared their plan regarding the backup Protocore, they cleared a path for the trio. Against a shared enemy, operations across the crumbling island go without a hitch that by the time Skyhaven is holding itself up on its own, most civilians were safely shipped off and the injured along with them.
The threat of the growing Wanderers, however, refuses to stop. Everywhere, killzones continue to spread wider by the second, leaving the trio no choice but to fight when another fresh wave of Wanderers ambushes.
"Oh, c'mon! This is literally new!" Luke complains, staring at his gun in frustration, when the bullets simply ricochet off a Luminivore, and he swears that the Wanderer chuckled at his attempts to hurt it. "Bad news Lady Boss, we're surrounded."
"If even Onychinus' latest firearms can't put a dent on these things..." Kieran trails off. MC doesn't need to look behind the mask that he's grimacing. They can't keep going on like this.
A rush of sea-scented flames manages to push back the Wanderers encroaching on them. They hurtle through the rubble and even several offices.
Rafayel enters the scene without his usual swagger. Like Caleb and Sylus, he's just as exhausted. His shoulders heave with every breath, but his grin is as dazzling as ever.
"Finally managed to catch up to you, Cutie! And before you ask, the good Doctor called for me and that Crow of yours when news broke out about Skyhaven," He glances at the twins before continuing, "It didn't take a genius to figure out that the Colonel messed up again."
MC dives in for a quick hug, to which Rafayel happily accepts, squeezing her for good measure.
"Caleb startled her."
The Sea God, masquerading as an artist, nods seriously. "Yes, because when I'm startled, I turn into a genocidal maniac too."
"This isn't about you!" MC narrowed her eyes at how blithely he's taking this. "She's somewhere here, lost and upset, because Caleb didn't warned her about the Toring Chip."
"So that's the plan. I've heard about that Chip. They're in constant demand within the black market for a good reason. If your Colonel wanted to put it in her brain..." Rafayel whistles lowly, unsure whether he should be impressed or shake his head at the attempt. "'Startled' would be an understatement, Cutie."
"Yeah, well, there's no use pointing fingers now. We have to find her. That's the only way to stop this." MC replies impatiently. Could you summon Wanderers from a distance? She doesn't even know if you're still on the island! But if you are—
'And then what?' MC suddenly thought. 'She wontcant listen.' She looks around, the devastation of Skyhaven slowly sinking in. Rafayel is about to grab her attention again when Sylus and Caleb join them. Absentmindedly, she hears Sylus ordering the twins to evacuate as well but all she could focus on how they've pushed you to the brink. 'I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't understand but I do now. I do, I promise.'
All this time, she had treated your distance as disdain, your silence as hatred. She had given you space so you could lick your wounds in peace, yet she hovers close so you'd know that you can always turn to her.
But what if you didn't know? And instead of letting you be, she should've push harder?
You're not some great, terrible Goddess wreaking havoc and deaths because you were spurned. You're simply so used to yearning for home, so blinded by loneliness, that it made you completely blind. It makes sense why you can't conceive any other form of love but the one that's lost to you. So, of course, you lash out at the softest touch when everything has been taken away from you!
MC can't let you be, not after knowing what she does now. How could she, in good conscious, ever leave you like this?
"—last sighting was at central market fighting Xavier. Still, fighting him, by the way. They've been at it for a while now." Caleb reported as they're discussing on how to stop you.
It's not going to be easy because you can't understand. You're hurt and isolated; how could you even begin to understand?
They offered trust, and all you saw was a mask.
They offered a covenant, and all you saw were chains.
She offered you love, and all you saw was submission.
MC now understands what she needs to do.
"Get the Chip ready. We'll be supporting Xavier." MC abruptly interrupt her lovers.
Rafayel raises an eyebrow while Sylus mirrors her silent determination. "So what's the plan? Talk her down long enough and kindly asks her to go take a fat nap so Doctor Li can put it in her brain?"
"There's no point in talking anymore. We have to save her before she'll kill herself."
"She'll never accept it," Caleb grimly reminds them all. "She won't see it as salvation. She's just so... so angry. I don't think she knows how to be happy again after this."
"Then I'll rape it into her."
-
In an underground bunker, a gym security guard and owner of a popular fried chicken joint became friends under the most horrifying circumstances when they saw you, the eye of a furious Wanderer-filled storm, jab an arm forward, and the Knave stab a Hunter through the stomach.
(The codes that held the Game together are quickly breaking apart. What prevented you from appearing on any digital platform in order to contain your existence is falling fast.)
"Fuck off, fuck off, FUCK OFF!" You curse amidst gunshots, crackling flames and trembling rocks. The Elysian Knave that pierced its blade through Xavier is immediately decapitated by Rafayel and Caleb. Gravity compressed Lemurian flames coating the Sea God's dagger, turning the blade sharper than diamond, holier than it allowed to be.
That was your strongest Wanderer too, juiced up by your outburst from Caleb's office and its last act was parrying Xavier's sword aimed right at you before injuring him. A flicker of shock and hurt passes through (you should've known better, right?) before you focuses on the sheer fucking audacity.
But something's not right.
"It doesn't have to be this way, Miss Orca! Give up already!" Rafayel calls out through the chaos. He's so fast, like slipstream behind Sylus after he punches away a couple of Petro Golems and Malachites that formed a wall between you and them. You instinctively curl away, arm up to protect your side from his spin-kick. In a flash, a Tezcatlipoca appears to block him. Rafayel stares at it and you, in disbelief, before you immediately grab his leg and fling him away for a Sentrywing. Furiously attacking him with its claws. Also, what the fuck? Was he trying to say that you're fat like an Orca?
But it's mutually beneficial; the link between you and your Wanderers was what you found out. Their endurance and strength were shared with you, and somehow, you, being a level 80 player, made what used to be regular mooks into super bosses.
It's the kind of edge that you, a puny civilian with no fighting skills whatsoever, didn't know you needed, but when MC and the rest of the Love Interests join in the fight—
"You stopped holding back. Good. A Tigress should always sharpen her claws against her enemies. Although..." Sylus appears so suddenly behind your back in a mist of red and black. His Evol binds you, and fear claws you at your throat. "I would've preferred being your scratching post instead." With a gentle hand, he caresses your cheek, and his expression softens. You flinched, but it does nothing. "There are some merits to his words, you know. Stop fighting. I beg you; give us one final chance to love you as you should."
"You're trying to kill me, you son of a slipper!"
Amused, Sylus counters back. "And you're not?"
You sneer because, yeah, running away isn't an option anymore when you just remembered the Toring Chip existed! Fuck the Game, fuck the Server Maintenance. Caleb has to die, or you're gonna end up as a brain-dead zombie and then be erased from existence. Double the whammy!
A whip lashes out and wraps around you, and two things happen simultaneously: An Elysian Lupus body slams into Sylus, breaking his Evol on you, and a Gelidus Dentis immediately yanks you away to its side. It snarls hatefully at him while the other Wanderer refuses to give any breathing room for the 5th Love Interest, brutally sinking its jaws on Sylus' shoulder to hold him in place for another wave of monsters swarming him. He winces in pain before Xavier re-enters the fight and slices the monster in half.
Both of your gazes meet. That hesitation in his eyes when he first intercepts you is long gone. Now, though... now they're hardened after a quick exchange between him and MC, while you had to focus on Rafayel and Sylus. You can't help but notice how his grip tightened on the pommel of his sword.
You know that look. You've seen it in one of his Cards, which confirms Infold's title for this Love Interest: A Gentle Killer. A side reserved for those standing in his way or threatening his precious Starlight, and right now, you're both with the way he's looking at you like you're no different than the Wanderers you summoned. And so does the rest of them. Ain't it funny how a heart can break as long as you let it?
Zayne's mouth pressed into a thin line, barely sparing a glance before he checked on Sylus. He came from one of the emergency medical tents to support Xavier, which you remembered seeing. There were Fleet officers, but mostly they were civilians. Crying... looking so lost that you don’t even need to read their minds.
'Why is this happening?', 'Where's mum and dad?', 'My home... it's gone.'
You swallowed thickly, could've sworn you could've taste the bile bubbling. They're all nameless NPCs; Infold sure did a good job with their Script, huh? You've never seen them react so realistically in the Game before. Their reactions and dialogues were always so mild, fake.
"I'll be fine, Doctor," Sylus grunts when his flesh knitted itself back. Good as new, but the pain lingers with the way his eyebrows tightened. Once he's back on his feet, though, he pats his thanks on Zayne's shoulder.
Only now did Zayne deign to give you his attention. "1200." When you said nothing, he closed his eyes and exhaled, deep and heavy. "That's the current death toll on Skyhaven. 1200. Civilians and military personnel."
No. Nonononononoonesandzeroesonesandzeroes—
"They'll come back after the Server Maintenance. Good as new. Probably won't even remember a thing—"
"A daughter was uncovered underneath the rubble behind you, inches away from where her elderly parents were. Even in death, her hand reached out for them." Zayne cuts you, merciless and cold. "A woman tried to protect her siblings with her own body when the ceiling collapse on them. I had to remove the rebar that punchered the deceased's lungs."
You're going to throw up.
"They had a family. They screamed." He continues in the same tone a surgeon would deliver bad news. Ice blooms underneath his loafers, making you tense, but instead of rushing towards you in rows of spikes, they spread like vines to form barriers protecting the medical tents.
Around your neck is guilt, strangling you like a noose. Sensing your distress, the Arbiterwings hover away from the tents to circle back where you are. Only for them to be one-shot killed by Caleb.
Fear clawed at you, but you did what you do best: ignore it, desperately clinging on to your Wanderers as MC and the rest swarmed at you with a single unspoken mission: To finally kill you.
"I should've never given you a chance!" You didn't even see him at first, but when a Mist Knave brings you into its embrace and steel clashes against steel, you scream in Xavier's face. "I trusted you! I thought you of all people..." Why did you even bother?
You chalk it up to wishful thinking when regret momentarily flashes over his face. He pressed his sword against the Knave harder. "I've hurt you, I won't deny that, but the innocents shouldn't have to bear your ire. You've gone too far, Starling."
Are you hearing this right? "Me? Me!? I'm just returning the favour since none of you were ever going to help me go home! All you've been doing is lie to me!"
"I tried reaching out to you, Starling. All of us did but you kept turning away from us! MC was right—"
With an outraged shriek, the Mist Knave uses every ounce of its strength to shove Xavier, did a kick spin, and sent him flying through a high-rise apartment.
"Fake! All of you!"
Your heart is beating fast now. Even more so when the Knave suddenly drops you. You scramble away just in time for Rafayel to behead it cleanly with a swipe of his dagger.
"What gives you the right to call any of us fakes?" He says sardonically and twirls his weapon in that casual, nonchalant idle animation you've seen over and over again before every battle. "We're living and breathing like you. Real, just like you. The only difference is that this just so happened to be our world. It's high time you accept that before the high tide drowns you."
You wanted to spit in his face, but this is different; you could feel it. Salt in the air and divinity crashing and pulling like tides within him. The ancient Lemurian Sea God manifesting just beyond the surface. A flash of anxiety takes hold of you; Is... is he changing into his second Myth?
In the corner of your eyes, black ice pierces through more and more of your Wanderers. Are all of them changing?
Rafayel doesn't allow you to think about it for too long before he dives in for another swipe. This time, it's your neck he's after. A timely Scout bursting out from the ground between the two of you prevented your death. Its massive drill head swings rapidly at Rafayel. He curses and creates some distance away from you. "I killed for my people! All you did was killed yours!"
The numbers ring like a solemn bell in your head. 1200. Over and over again.
Wanderers around you fell. Xavier, back again, with Zayne on the right against an Aeonwyrm. Rafayel and Sylus on the left with a group of Fusionforms. Caleb, front and centre, tackling a Despairra. It's pure adrenaline that made you summon one more blade-type Wanderer, and with the recklessness of someone who had nothing more to lose, you throw yourself into the fray instead of wandering at the edge. Darting here and there, between claws and Evols, between humans and monsters, between their looks of flabbergaster and admiration, and commanded your shadowed Magma Knave to attack where it hurts them the most.
Xavier's sword clattered when his arm was cut off, Zayne fell onto his knees when his tendons turned into ribbons, Rafayel's heart was pierced through, Sylus' Aether Core eye was blinded, and the side of Caleb's head where a bullet grazed through was cleaved in. They may be strong, superhuman even, due to their Lores, but even they aren't immune to pain.
But where's MC!?
"Now!" Caleb roars, hand pressing against his bloodied head. "Do it now!"
Your dominant hand is on the right. That's where you usually hold pens and pencils to write, phones held to call, or, in this case, summon the Wanderers via the Love and Deepspace app.
And that's the direction where MC appeared. Her own hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from backpaddling.
The world inhales—
—And the game finally breaks.
Communion. That's it. That's the catalyst that finally made the world fold in on itself when the all-too familiar sound of a crack materialised above Skyhaven and tipped the island.
For the second time and with the cloying perversion of love flooding inside you, seeping through sinews and bones, comes revelation at last as you and MC Fall through white and wrongness. Numbers, animation triggers, and texture files bleed together.
MC grips your wrist harder; her beautiful face is lost and desperate, but all you want to do is fucking die because it feels less like touching another person and more like two unfinished save files trying to overwrite each other.
"You're finally seeing me." Your avatarstalkermonstertormentordonttouchmedonttouchmedonttouchme breathes in wonder, tears glistening in her eyes, and fear chokes you. She embraces you, chests press together, and your heartbeat with hers syncs up, no matter how hard you struggle. "I waited for this moment for so, so long. All I wanted was for you to see me, and now that you do... I-I'm so happy. We'll be happy together, I promise! I've been waiting to give you everything; Food, pleasure, children, a family—we can be a proper family because they'll love you as much as I do. Just how we were always mean to! I love you, I love you, I love you!"
You Fall through the source code and wireframes.
You Fall through pixels and polygons.
Falling through nothing and madness.
You didn't know how you did, especially with how MC nuzzles into your neck, making you want to peel your own skin off, but you eventually did. It took everything you had left to inhale—
And from an endless expansion of white comes a shade of blue mixing like watercolour. Lines and numbers gradually fade away for columns and text boxes. Your brain hurts from processing words and pictures that appear faster than you can think.
"What, what is this?" The primal wildness in MC's eyes is replaced with something she couldn't comprehend.
But you can. You can because this world—website—is familiar to you. You realise that you're no longer endless Falling. Rather, you're Falling as long as youyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyouyou are scrolling.
"I can sense them. Their eyes." MC's voice fractures through an ask-post about getting cats as pets to pissed Rafayel off. Through you, she can feel them/you; she can feel their/your emotions. "They're reading us."
Pure, impossible hope snaps you at that very moment, and you reach out to the many yous reading this now.
"Please! I know you can see this, please, please! Pull me out! I can't go back!"
MC cries out and hugs you tighter, digging her nails into your flesh." No, no, no! They can't have you!" She squeezes you so hard that your body wails in pain. "You're mine! Go away, go away, go away!"
You wrench your half-merged hand free just enough to reach downwards towards
one of the feature and
Pull me out, PULL ME OUT!
No! Stop reading! Stop looking at her! She's mine!
forensics by: @cafekitsune
file length: 1.8k
crime: Keeping your relationship with Valko a secret was never easy. It becomes impossible when one coworker gets a little too comfortable.
case notes: Not a request but short little one-shot. I really wanted to write something for Valko before his official debut in LADS. I can't wait to meet him!
warnings: mentions of mates and claims, secret office romance, jealousy
major crimes database | lads case files | suspect files
The fluorescent lights of the EonCore Tech were usually muted by this hour, but the impending launch of the new tech line meant the entire building was buzzing with overtime energy. As Valko’s executive secretary, your desk was the final barrier between the rest of the company and the Chairman.
What the rest of the company didn't know was that you were also the final barrier between Valko and his more primitive, feral impulses. Beneath the bespoke Italian suits and the cold, calculated demeanour of a billionaire tech mogul laid a much more predatory nature that not many people got to see.
Your job description officially required you to keep the corporate efficiency seamless, managing multi-billion dollar schedules and gatekeeping high-profile stakeholders. But unofficially, your task was infinitely more complicated by another reality: you were secretly dating the Chairman himself.
Keeping things professional during the day was an unspoken rule. It meant no lingering glances during board meetings, no accidental brushes when handing over financial reports, and absolutely no acknowledging the way his amber-gold eyes darkened with a possessiveness whenever you stepped into his office to hand him his morning coffee.
Until today.
You let out a quiet, exhausted sigh, manually organizing a stack of encrypted project briefs, when a shadow fell over your desk. It wasn't Valko. Instead, it was Marcus—a senior lead from the engineering development team who had recently become entirely too comfortable lingering around your desk under the guise of ‘project updates.’
"Still working, beautiful?" Marcus leaned his weight against the polished mahogany edge of your desk, invading your personal space with a smug smirk that made your stomach turn. "A dedicated executive assistant is hard to find, but a gorgeous one? The Chairman is absolutely running you ragged. You know, if you requested a transfer over to my department, I'd treat you a lot better than he does."
Behind the heavy, floor-to-ceiling tinted glass doors of the main office, a pair of amber eyes locked onto the scene.
Valko had been reviewing the final Q3 financial statements, but the second he saw Marcus approach your desk, he stilled. The fountain pen that had been in his grip snapped clean in half from the force of the sudden tightening of his grip. His Evol flared instinctively—the liquid ink and fractured metal of the expensive writing instrument warping and fusing into a jagged, sharp spike before he consciously suppressed it.
To the rest of the world, Valko was a ruthless tech tycoon. But beneath the tailored suit, his primal instincts were roaring. A threat was near his mate.
"Marcus, I'm just doing my job," you said, your voice a masterclass in cool, professional detachment as you subtly shifted your chair back to re-establish your boundaries. "And the Chairman treats me perfectly well. My compensation and hours are exactly as agreed upon."
"I’m just saying," Marcus purred, shifting closer and resting a hand flat on the surface of your desk, his figure completely blocking you from looking at your monitor. "A brilliant mind like yours shouldn't be cooped up here all night playing gatekeeper. Why don't I take you out to that exclusive new lounge downtown? We can discuss your... long-term career advancement over a few drinks."
"Thank you for the offer, Marcus, but I have dozens of encrypted files to log and categorize before the morning quarterly review," you replied, your voice tight with strained patience as you pointedly clicked your mouse, as you leaned around him to look at your screen.
"Oh, come on. The guy’s a corporate machine. He doesn't notice anything outside of quarterly projections and market dominance," Marcus chuckled, lowering his voice into a sultry, confidential tone that made your skin crawl. He reached out, his fingers brazenly brushing against your wrist to stop you from typing. ”The Chairman doesn't need to know, and honestly, he's so detached he wouldn't even notice if you slipped out an hour early. Let me take care of you tonight."
Click.
The moment Marcus's fingers made contact with your skin, the heavy glass door to the executive office swung open.
The air in the room instantly shifted, tension that could be cut with a knife filling the room and you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You knew that feeling anywhere—it was the unmistakable aura of a predator approaching to mark his territory.
Valko stepped out. At 6’2 with a broad and powerful build, his tailored charcoal suit did little to hide the raw strength beneath the fine fabric. His short burgundy hair caught the harsh fluorescent lighting, but it was his eyes that instantly locked Marcus in place. They weren't their usual warm amber; they looked as if they had darkened.
"Marcus," Valko’s voice cut through the silence—a low, gravelly baritone that carried a warning edge that reminded you of a wolf baring its teeth.
Marcus froze, his smug smile instantly faltering as he hastily pulled his hand away and straightened up, his face paling. "Chairman! I-I was just finishing up the Q3 development projections with your secretary."
Valko didn’t look at the paperwork. He didn't even look at Marcus’s face. His gaze traveled slowly, deliberately down to your wrist—where Marcus’s fingers had just been resting—and then flicked up to read the slight discomfort written across your features.
A dangerous growl rumbled deep in Valko’s chest—a sound so low that Marcus likely thought it was the building’s ventilation system, but it made your heart skip a beat.
"The report belongs in the submission tray," Valko said, taking a slow, measured step forward. His movements screamed predatory, closing the distance between them until he completely towered over Marcus. "And your hands belong on your own desk. On an entirely different floor."
"I-I apologize, sir. I was just being friendly," Marcus stammered, his bravado entirely shattered as he took a frantic step back, breaking into a sweat under Valko’s glare.
"EonCore Tech pays you to engineer, not to be friendly," Valko continued in a cold tone that sent a shiver down your spine. "If I see you loitering around this desk or invading my secretary's space again, I will personally ensure your access badge is deactivated before you even reach the elevators. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, sir. Perfectly clear." Marcus didn't even dare to look in your direction as he grabbed his folder with trembling hands, practically tripping over his own feet to scramble toward the lobby doors.
As soon as the elevator doors chimed and closed, the oppressive tension in the air dissipated.
You let out a long, ragged breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders dropping as you looked up at the towering figure before you. "Valko... you can't just threaten the senior engineering staff like that," you whispered, casting a cautious glance around despite the area being empty. "People are going to talk. If HR or the board catches wind of you breathing down a lead developer's neck over a casual conversation, they're going to start asking questions we can't answer."
Valko didn't answer right away. He turned to look at you, his amber eyes locking onto yours with a terrifyingly singular focus. In a split second, the polished corporate CEO vanished. He crossed the short distance to your desk, his large hands gripping the leather edge of your armrests. With sudden jerk, he yanked you closer.
Before you could even formulate a word of protest, he leaned down, effectively trapping you between his broad, muscular frame and the high back of the chair.
"Let them talk," he growled softly, the wilder edge of his true nature bleeding right through the fine threads of his expensive tailored suit. He buried his face directly into the warm crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His chest heaved as he aggressively nuzzled your neck, drinking in your scent, as he consciously worked to replace traces of Marcus's lingering cologne with his own woodsy scent. "He was invading your space. Touching you. He was looking at you like you were his.”
"Valko, we're in the middle of the main office floor," you breathed, a hot flush rapidly rising to your cheeks. Despite your verbal caution, your hands automatically found their way up to his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the knotted tension of his muscles. "The cleaning crew is still downstairs, and the launch metrics are still pulling in live data. Anyone could come up through those elevators.”
"I don't care," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill straight to your core. His sharp teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin of your pulse point, eliciting a soft, breathless gasp from you. "My inner beast has been tearing its cage to pieces from the exact moment he walked up to you. Secret or not, you are mine. If I have to use my Evol to create a cage and lock that man away just to keep him from breathing your air, I will."
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of fierce possessiveness and an endearing pout. The contrast of the powerful EonCore Chairman looking at you with those puppy dog eyes was enough to make your heart melt.
"Tell me you're mine," he demanded quietly, his thumb pressing against your chin before tracing the soft line of your lower lip. "Say it. I need to hear it."
You smiled softly, the last of your professional reservations evaporating under the sheer earnestness of his gaze. Leaning up, you closed the remaining distance between you, pressing a reassuring kiss to his lips. "I'm yours, my wolf. Only yours. Nobody elses.”
The tension finally began to bleed out of his massive shoulders, and a low, satisfied hum vibrated deep within his chest. He didn't let you pull away. Instead, he leaned into you, kissing you again—deeper, hungrier this time, intent on staking his claim thoroughly, corporate rules and consequences be damned.
You were his mate, and it was about damn time he claimed you publicly.
The sheer intensity of his kiss left you entirely breathless, your fingers knotting into his burgundy hair as he pulled you impossibly closer, anchoring your body against his broad chest.
And honestly? You were tired of hiding it, too. You were tired of hiding, the professional distance, and the insufferable arrogance of men like Marcus who thought you were fair game.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, his chest heaving as his amber eyes burned down into your own. His breathing was as ragged as yours.
"Tomorrow," Valko growled softly, his large hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb sweeping over your cheekbone tenderly. "No more hiding. It's time everyone knew who you belonged to."
***This is my first Imagine. Unnamed LaDs LI (written with Valko in mind) x gn nonmc
Summary: You try to game the System but the System games you. Trigger Warnings: none that I'm aware of but please let me know if I missed something.
Comments, reblogs, and likes are all appreciated. Thanks for reading.
Imagine you ran away from MC and the LIs because you knew you couldn't fight the story the system was writing.
Imagine you find someone you connect with. You take a chance because you never heard his name in the story before, it seems like a safe bet.
Imagine for a long time everything is wonderful. The two of you get married and are happy together. You have even decided it's time to grow your family.
Imagine one normal day, out of absolutely nowhere, everything around you goes black. It's a darkness so deep and dark that you dare not move because you can't see or even sense anything around you anymore.
Imagine in the blink of an eye it's over and everything seems normal again. You go to find your husband to make sure he's ok and see if you can figure out what happened.
Imagine you find your husband but he is no longer the man you remember. There's a coldness in his eyes that you've never seen before and he greets you like an employee. You think this must be some terrible prank but when you try to snuggle up to him and ask him for reassurance, he pushes you back.
Imagine it's then that a sick kind of despair starts to creep into your heart. He no longer has the tattoo on his ring finger that matches yours. In a panic, you glance down and realize yours is gone as well. You begin to spiral.
Imagine he advises you to adjust his schedule because he has a new meeting that needs to be added in as soon as possible. You are no longer his spouse but his Personal Assistant.
Imagine you leave the room and run. You don't know where you are going but you know you can't stay there. You need space to breathe and time to think. You turn your phone off and get on a train, not caring for the final destination. You keep moving all night to get as far away from him as you can from him. You finally fall asleep in a hotel room in an unknown city, hoping that all of this is just a giant nightmare. Tomorrow will be a better day.
Imagine you open your eyes and you are sitting at a desk and MC is in front of you. She's here for her meeting. You want to throw up.
Imagine you are his NPC sidekick. You have joined the ranks of Greyson, Gideon, Jeremiah, Thomas, and Luke & Kieran. You are trapped in his story and forced to watch his love story with MC develop right before your eyes.
Lis x mc x non!mc reader, f/f, f/m, pt.3 pt.2 pt.1
It's been almost a week since you last saw Mc or any of the boys. It feels odd because you're so used to seeing them every day at random places. Suddenly they're just... gone.
Of course it is because they all have jobs, you convince yourself. And it's true. Why would a doctor or a full time hunter have time to lounge around with you?
It still makes you feel kind of anxious. Did they stop caring about you? Did you do something wrong? They are your only friends in Linkon City after all. It makes you feel even worse when everyone has their own excuse why they can't meet after you build up the courage to ask.
You have too much time to overthink about everything. And when things get overwhelming, you flee. A week in a forest cabin alone will surely calm your nervous system down.
You don't think Mc or the boys would even notice your absence, being so busy with their own lives.
Wrong.
As soon as you're happily settled down in the cabin, everyone back in Linkon gets worried. Why did you disappear? You're not answering your phone. (You're too busy sitting in a hot tub while your phone is god knows where.) Fortunately you share your location with Mc.
The atmosphere is heavy with guilt while sitting in Mc's apartment. It's not like they can just barge in your little cabin when they've been too busy to talk with you for days. It's understandable why you would be little upset.
Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel and Caleb have tight schedules so they can't just take a week off so suddenly. Instead everyone agrees to send Mc and Sylus. Obviously the idea of leaving you alone in the middle of nowhere is atrocious. What if something happens to you? In their eyes you are basically defenseless.
It's only the second day of your little trip when someone knocks on the door. You're little nervous as you peek out. What if it's a murderer?
"God finally!"
You should've known they won't leave you alone. (Although deep inside you knew you wanted this.) Mc hugs you tightly, holding your waist in a possessive grip as Sylus steps in and hugs you from behind.
The scolding comes only after you've gotten two tight hugs and moved to the living room.
"So, care to explain why you came here without telling us?" You don't think you have seen the duo as serious ever before.
You stare the floor and squirm slightly. Mc's arm is till on your shoulder as Sylus touches your knee.
"I was bored and I wanted some... peace of mind," you mumble as you play with your fingers.
Sylus squeezes your thigh.
"Is it because we haven't seen or talked in a while sweetheart? Is that what this is about? You know. It's dangerous to come alone in places like this."
You frown. "I don't think forest cabin can be that big of a threat."
Mc flicks your forehead. "How could you know that silly? You're not from Linkon. There could be so many dangerous wanderers lurking around."
When you don't answer she gently lifts your chin. "You wanted our attention, didn't you baby? You should've just asked again."
You open your mouth helplessly. "No! I mean yes but I just didn't want to bother anyo-"
Mc silences you with a press of her lips against yours. Your breath hitches when she kisses you softly and holds your face with both of her hands. You're frozen for a moment as your brain registers what is even happening. Before you can fully melt against Mc, she pulls away.
"Sylus' turn."
His large hand cradles your face and you're met with a different pair of lips. Sylus kisses as softly as Mc did while he squeezes your thigh again. Then you're kissing Mc again. And then Sylus. They pass you around like a ball but you can't be even offended because this is a dream come true.
A while after the kissing and teasing stops, you lay between their warm bodies quietly and let them do the talking. What would you even say? Do friends kiss on the mouth? You feel sleepy as Mc rubs your back and Sylus plays with the strands of your hair.
"The others are going to kill us when they find out what has happened," you hear while blinking heavily.
"What do you mean -"
"Shh." Mc shushes you and Sylus presses his finger against your mouth. "Don't you worry about anything. Just rest baby."
So sorry this took like 4 months lol i'll have to continue soon
❁ pairing: Gideon x non-mc!reader
❁ wc: 2.8k
❁ desc. : Your neighbourhood is having a garage sale and your dear neighbours are coming over to check it out. Caleb seems to have made a new friend at the DAA. fluff.
❁ a/n. : had to show some love to one of my favourite side characters ♡ this has been mulling in my drafts for ages and I finally wanted to finish this chapter to get onto the better part lol. I promise things will kick off in the next one. (Also!! I know Josephine isn't a Xia, but I'm lazy so now she is)
With a soft thump you placed yet another cardboard box out on a foldable table, right next to three near identical ones. It was a beautiful morning; the sun was shining through the leaves of an ancient oak overlooking the yard, casting dancing lights across your family’s arsenal of used belongings.
Today was a day of long awaited traditions: the annual neighbourhood yard sale. Most families on your entire block were once again participating, and the street was bustling with probably a little over-excited people rearranging their entire front lawns for a good cause.
Your family had attended the tradition faithfully almost every year since you were in diapers. You weren’t even sure where your mom kept finding stuff to sell after all these years, but your father didn’t seem to mind; he was more than happy to haul out his precious grill and provide passerbys with steaming hot dogs to munch on.
“Honey, could you go and pick up the last box from your brother’s room?” Your mom called as she pattered through the garage, holding an ancient looking vase. She had been up early, running around the place with curlers still stuck in her hair.
“Got it, mom.” You replied and made your way back into the house. The last box awaited you upstairs in a room across from yours, one that had pretty much last seen your brother only on Christmas ever since he left for college. One of the letters decorating his door had fallen down from age, now sporting a crooked “Jaon” that made you chuckle to yourself.
You peeked into the box as you leaned down to pick it up, finding it full of old superhero comics and figurines. Some of them had been read so much the side of the papers had begun to fray, and some of them had been tucked neatly into plastic covers keeping them in near pristine condition.
You’d lost count on how many boxes you’d carried down the stairs already, your back slowly starting to kill you, as you almost ran over your mom in the garage doorway. Hair now let loose and curls swinging with each movement of her head, she quickly pointed at a table near the outer wall and chirped. “You can put it down next to those on the left side, there’s some more of their junk. Thank you, dearest.”
“Mom, are you sure Alec and Jason are ready to give out this stuff?” You answered over your shoulder while walking and staring at the Nightwing cover on top of the pile of others.
You could hear her yell an answer from the inside, “I made sure to call your brothers for permission, don’t worry!”, before the door slammed shut behind her and you lowered the box in its place.
—--
Like most years, your lawn was filled with people in no time. Your parents were in their element, your father socialising with the husbands while the wives and children went on a treasure hunt through the bazillion boxes, and your mother was supervising the said treasure hunt, bargaining with people on every turn.
You, on the other hand, had retreated to a much deserved break on your front porch, sipping on cold lemonade and enjoying the occasional warm, soft late-summer breeze. It was hard to remember the last time something had tasted quite this refreshing.
Curiously watching people pass by on both sides of the street, before a rap of knuckles against the wooden porch post startled you from your thoughts.
“Sorry to cut your precious daydreaming short, but your best friend requires your immediate attention.”
Your eyes widened and you whipped your head to the direction of the voice, your eyes meeting familiar, shining ones.
“Mace!!” You squealed and stood up, hurrying to meet her in a crushing embrace, almost spilling your drink on her in the process.
You both giggled happily and let go of each other, but Macy kept her hands on your arms while you tried to finish the lemonade quickly.
“I swear you’ve grown taller again!” She exclaimed and measured you with her eyes while you simply shook your head in disbelief.
“You haven’t changed at all.” You smiled and your heart ached in your chest as you stared at her, smiling, the realisation of how much you had actually missed her hitting you like a freight train.
“Well, hurry up slowpoke. I’d love to hog you all to myself, but I’m sure gran and Caleb want to see you too”, she continued, and began to drag you by the hand towards the lawn. You hurried to place your now empty glass on the garden table and shook your head, trying to scare away the threatening brain-freeze from shotgunning the icy liquid.
Your mom was already present, exchanging words with Josephine Xia. She was the grandmother of Macy and Caleb, who she had adopted when they were barely children. Josephine had always given you the slightest of creeps, although on the outside she seemed like a perfectly normal, old lady.
Even now, she stood slightly hunched over, wearing a beautiful old blouse and khakis, small glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, like a harmless grandma. But something about her gaze always made the hairs stand at the back of your neck, like it did just now when she spotted you two nearing and turned your way to offer her hand.
“So very nice to see you, dear.” She said curtly and you sealed your hands in a friendly shake. Sure, it felt a bit formal for neighbours of 20 something years, but Josephine had always been — to put it nicely — a bit dry.
Her hand was just as bony and cold as you remembered, and you were thankful that she seemed just as reluctant to prolong the polite greeting as you did.
“You as well.” You managed a smile back and let go of her hand.
You stepped away, the feeling of a pair of eyes boring to the side of your skull intensifying by the second. Before you had any time to react, you were already pulled in a tight hug by long, strong arms enveloping you.
“‘Leb! Ca-n’t, bre-athe!” You grunted, and felt the body currently crushing yours shake with a chuckle before letting go of you.
“Man, is it good to see you!” Caleb flashed you a boyish grin while still keeping onto your shoulders, holding you at an arms length.
The Xia’s had moved next door when you had entered first grade. You had been ecstatic; your neighbourhood had famously been inhabited by mostly elderly people, and your older brothers had already been in high school, leaving you no one to play with - until the Xia siblings arrived.
You and Caleb were the same age and ended up attending school together. But wherever there had been Caleb, there had been Macy, and you had quickly hit it off with her as well.
Macy had proclaimed you as her best friend at the ripe age of 10, and you’d been inseparable since, at least until she’d left for college.
Now, you lived for the rare chances to see them back home whenever they decided to grace you with a visit, which in your opinion had lately been way too seldom.
”What’ve you been up to?” Caleb continued, now letting go of your shoulders and ruffling your hair, before returning his hands to rest on his hips and cocking his head to the side, awaiting your answer. You could swear he had grown taller too, as you had to look up to find his eyes while you answered.
”Well, you know. Same old, same old.” You shrugged your shoulders and troopered a smile back despite the slight stung in your heart.
To be honest, your daily life had been incredibly dull for a while now, and days seemed to melt together in a grey, unidentifiable mass. But you didn’t feel like it would’ve been fair to complain and ruin the happiness of the moment, finally reuniting with your best friends after what felt like ages at this point.
“Don’t you ever feel like leaving this place then, even for a trip?” He questioned, certain softness in his eyes even though he had thrown it at you as a jab to hopefully get you doing something else apart from whatever this was.
Macy’s eyes grew in size as you could basically see a light bulb appear above her head, and she grabbed your your shoulders,
“Oh, you should totally come and visit us in Skyhaven!”
Your mouth formed a questioning “o” as you were taken aback by her sudden proposition. Truth be told, you weren’t exactly opposed to the idea, you just hadn’t really travelled on your own.
Wait, us?
Macy seemed to realise at the same time with you, her cheeks flushing wildly.
“I- I mean I’m currently visiting Caleb! So when we return, you should come with us.”
You hadn’t let yourself get excited in a really long time, always waiting for something that could go wrong and ruin things for you. But the sparkle in your best friend's eyes and the hopeful look she was casting your way, were chipping at your defences.
Caleb inserted himself back into the conversation by throwing his arm over Macy’s shoulders and pulling her against him,
“That’s a great idea, Pips.”
They looked at each other momentarily, both grinning fondly as if she had come up with a masterplan. You had always been a bit envious of the bond they shared, like they really seemed to have welded together through thick and thin, and had such genuine care and appreciation for one another.
Your brothers had their moments of course, but the age gap y’all shared had always prevented you from forming such close friendships with them.
“Speaking of Skyhaven, you haven’t accidentally ran into a man close to my height and age here, have you?” Caleb now looked at you, pulling you from your thoughts.
A young man here? Pfft. You wished.
“I think I would’ve noticed if there were any hot young men around.” You laughed bitterly and crossed your arms, the neighbourhood mostly ranging in people either aged kindergarten or elderly care.
“I mean hot is pretty generously put-” He started before Macy elbowed him in his side, causing the tower of a man to fold in half and coughing.
“You’re too mean to him!”
“Trust me, I probably should be meaner.” Caleb struggled, and reached out with his left arm to rub on the sore spot his sister left.
Macy turned her attention back to you, “Caleb brought his friend from the DAA with us, but he disappeared faster than I could blink when he saw the mountains of old stuff.”
“Oh.” You managed, your interest now definitely piqued, although you didn’t want to get your hopes up. “Yeah I haven’t seen anyone like that.”
-----
Your garage was now bustling with various people going through the boxes laid out all around, when you were approached by a middle-aged man holding one of the comics in his hands.
”How much for this?”
Something about the man seemed awfully suspicious, his demeanor wary and rushed, glancing at the other people, as if he had found a treasure he didn’t want anyone to steal.
You stated your price while eyeing him curiously. The man’s brows furrowed and he kept looking back and forth from you to the booklet in his hands,
”I’ll pay you half for it, how’s that sound?”
You threw your head back slightly, unable to contain your disdainful laughter. You had recognised the cover from afar, knowing now exactly what the man had in mind, and you scoffed,
”Nice try, but I’m not selling you a special edition for basically free.”
His face fell from realisation, his masterplan to make a bank of uncultured people’s discarded comic volumes evaporating with each new word that left your mouth.
”Wait, how’d you know this is a special edition?” The man retorted, eyeing you up and down suspiciously, and you raised your eyebrows at him.
Your patience had run thin a while ago, but now he continued to play with fire, trying to imply a girl like you couldn’t possibly know your way around superhero comics. How typical.
”I had to grow up with two older brothers.” You now crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the nearby table, giving back the most unimpressed look you could muster. And Caleb, you mentally added.
Fondly reminiscing on the Halloweens where all three of you would sport your awful makeshift costumes, Caleb once going as far as building the Iron Man suit out of cardboard with an actual working chest light.
The man hmph’d loudly and abandoned the booklet carelessly back in the box, ”Whatever, it’s not in a good condition anyways.”
He stomped away with an almost visible grey cloud over his head as you stared after him, shaking your head amusedly. It seemed that each year the yard sale managed to bring all sorts of people out of hiding.
Then, a fresh voice exclaimed from to your left.
”You’re kidding?? The original Trial of Venom??”
You turned your head, curious about the owner of such a voice, and your brain nearly short-circuited on the spot. Beside you was standing probably the most good-looking man you had ever seen.
He was about as tall as Caleb, and you would’ve guessed him to be around the same age as well. His black hair had been cut shorter on the sides, giving you a clear view of his sharp side profile.
Dressed simply in a white t-shirt that clung onto his muscled frame and - what was that, a uh- rodent? scribbled on the front? - ordinary blue jeans, yet he managed to look so good you swore you couldn’t have cared less if he’d showed up clad in an ordinary garbage bag instead.
He was holding the seconds ago discarded booklet in his hands, eyes wide and visibly glimmering from the new discovery.
”How much for the entire box?” He turned his attention to you, light brown eyes gleaming expectantly.
You felt like a fish out of water, gaping for air, as his acknowledgement of you rushed blood into your face in a new wave of nervousness.
”I uhhh,” you stuttered, brain completely blanking as you met his eyes and felt like it would’ve been physically impossible for you to look away. As if time had stopped, him staring at you and waiting eagerly, and you just staring back at him, trying to come up with a comprehensible answer.
You thanked the heavens and hell and everything in between as Caleb materialised from somewhere and threw his arm around the other man’s shoulders,
”Gideon, buddy, I swear if you try to haul one more of these boxes into our dorm, I’m going to request a new roommate.”
The other man’s, apparently Gideon, eyes widened and he turned hurriedly to face Caleb, distress etched onto his features.
”Bro, you don’t understand! I have been looking for this exact volume for years!” He whined and shook the booklet in his hands, brows now furrowed.
”You said that about the last three as well.”
”But I really mean it this time.”
Caleb sighed and shook his head, before chuckling and turning his attention to you,
”So, I see you’ve finally found Gideon.”
You leaned forward and offered your hand, trying your hardest to conceal its shaking,
”Apparently I have. Nice to meet you, Gideon.”
Gideon glanced between you and Caleb, before he straightened his posture and accepted your hand in a firm shake, flashing you a blinding smile,
”Nice to meet you too. You must be Y/N then? Caleb has told me about you.”
As your skin made contact with his through your clasped hands, it was as if an electric current had passed through your body, causing you to entirely forget how to breathe.
His hand was incredibly warm, and huge, enveloping yours. You could feel some calluses around his palm, probably from all the rigorous training and mechanical work they had to endure as pilot cadets.
His eyes held you captive once more, rooting you in place, and you swore you probably looked just as dumbfounded as you felt. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest you were more than glad it was confined in by your ribcage — otherwise it would’ve flown away on the spot.
You swallowed dryly and cleared your throat before answering, the nonchalantness you’d wished to emit only a pitiful attempt,
”Only good things, I hope.”
Gideon’s mouth opened, preparing to answer you, but Caleb was quicker,
”If only there were any.”
“Gee, thanks, you big oaf.” You made a face at him, which in turn made Gideon laugh out loud, possibly your new favourite sound in the entire world. How were you in this deep already, having met the man for barely five minutes?
Your face flushed again, if possible, as you noticed Macy smirking at you from behind Caleb, like this had been her plan that was going exactly as she hoped.
“Now I don’t believe that’s quite true.” Gideon said, his voice now softened to honeyed timber, and aimed at you with a lopsided grin that made your heart skip a beat.
Yeah, you were doomed.
pictures from pinterest, Gideon art by @ aerosarrow and dividers by @ cursed-carmine
Fair Game (part 1) - fem!nonmc x l.i, a snippet of valko x fem!nonmc
wrote up this idea and finished it after seeing the new full trailer for valko
This part is mainly focused on nonmc and the guys, but I wanted to set this up because I will do a part 2 to this focusing more on valko and our girl
tw: slightly suggestive if you squint enough, depression mentioned i think (if i am missing anything please let me know)
Tears blurred your vision as you tried to read his text at work
Your stomach dropping as if it was falling into a never ending abyss
He always did this
A push and pull that had begun to twist a sharp wire around your lungs, heart, and mind leaving you in agony
Damn him, damn you, and damn everything that had led to this moment
You ran into your work’s restroom, all while the tears that began to spill slightly smudged your mascara
The screen taunting you to text back, taunting you return through typing the rage, grief, and shame of living a delusion that he would finally see and choose you
“Truth is I don’t think I can do this”
“She needs me, and I still need her”
“I’m sorry”
He took the cowards way out again
As if you didn't wake up in his arms this morning after sharing a bed for a little over half a year
Letting you believe the delusion that this time he was yours for sure
After he gotten on his knees, professing feelings that truly didn’t exist swearing this was real to him
Lovely lies pouring from his lips with such ease, it made you question if you were real sometimes
A real human with real feelings that mattered
It made you nasouses looking at yourself, a damn fool
But something felt this time it would be different, more final
It had to be for your sake
The club music vibrating through your body filled you with a sense of excitement and freedom you had been aching for the past eight months
Your friends couldn’t stop gushing how amazing you looked tonight
All dressed up, makeup done, a living and thriving version of you staring back at you
A version of you that wanted to feel alive
No more giving others second chances, no more sitting around for life to happen to you
No more waiting for his cursed name to show up on your screen
You did everything in your power to let that version of yourself die
So as the alcohol you began sipping earlier finally began to flow through you, you danced to your heart's content to the rhythm of the music
Ahora quiere' pórtate mal
The song that you had been obssesed with started blasting through the club
The song that gave you this feeling that maybe it was finally time to play this game
Music that you had heard him complain about before, saying it was too loud too much
You smiled at the memory, you probably were turning into everything he probably hated
You never felt better
The purple and blue lighting gave you a gorgeous glow, your smile bright and alive
He was across the club, stunned at seeing you out like this
At a place like this
You looked more beautiful than ever, but the tightening of his chest snapped him back to reality
The grip on his phone his tightened as he found your new Moment's account, your story reshared by a common friend who you totally were close with
It was the first time he had any contact with you since he dumped you
He felt guilty each time he did this to you
But that guilt stung more so like getting a bruise that when you touched hurt, but you could easily ignore and set it aside
He knew what he had been doing was cruel but he couldn't help it
Your devotion made him feel seen, that maybe someday mc could return those feelings, could see him how you did
Made him feel worth something
As he stared at you, he caught the glance of someone approaching you
Tall, red messy hair and golden piercing eyes coming up to you inviting you to dance
He was ready to walk up to you with the full confidence you were going to blow this guy off except you didn’t
You not only accepted, you put your own arms around him
You took this guys hand, twirled yourself around until your back was facing him and pressed your bodies together
Your lips inches away from each other, looking at each other as if you were ready to devour each other into a kiss
Everything felt like a blur
As you were lost into these golden eyes that looked at you with hunger and something more, you felt someone reach out and pull at your hand
"What the hell are you doing ?"
You turn and see him
"What the fuck are you doing here?" You retorted with indifference
His jaw tightened, eyes darting between you and this guy behind you
"We need to talk"
Your dance partner intervenes, "Do you know this guy? Do you need me to make him leave?"
You tell him it’s fine and walk off with the bastard who suddenly decided to appear tonight
He pulls you, his grip still set on your arm but you pull away as he began his sermon
"What the fuck was that y/n?"
"I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks thinking something was wrong but clearly I was wrong"
HIs jealousy blinded him, leading him to confront you rather than try to reach for you
"I can barely even recognize you?"
"Since when you act this careless do you even know… "
You cut him off with your voice loud and unwavering
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" You're looking into his eyes with such intensity you could feel him backdown a bit
"Who the fuck do you think you are showing up here?"
"No one wants you here, I don’t want you here"
He glares at you, "Oh, so I can’t worry about you?"
Your self-control shattered in real time, your words filled with anger and malice
"No, you can’t. Since when do you care abut my well being? About my feelings ? Let me guess, she left you again. "
Your words felt worse than a slap and left him slightly speechless, because you were right
"Stay the fuck away from me", you said as you began to walk away
He grabs you arm again, "What so you can go back with that guy?"
"Why do you care ?"
"Because I do, especially with a stranger like him"
" No, you don’t", tears started to fill your waterline
"If you did you wouldn’t of led me on for years. You knew how much I loved you, how much I adored you. How hard I wanted this and you humiliated me every single time."
"You will always choose her. Fine go to her, but I don’t want to see you ever again."
You tug away from his grasp, walking away wiping away your tears
but with a slight smile growing on your face once your back was to him
You found your red haired dance partner who whispered into your ear if you wanted to leave
As you agreed, you could feel his stare across the floor while the song that gave you the guts to finally let go finished
Leaving him behind
Your phone began to blow up twenty minutes after your departure
One quick glance at your screen told you who it was
Messages from a new Moments account, a new phone number, three missed calls
You giggled to yourself
Valko turns to you, "Everything all right my moonlight "?
"Yes of course", you replied as he held your hand and placed a tender kiss on it while he drove you back to his place
You got him right where you wanted, and this was only the start
p.s: i am valko obsessed right now so I am sooo looking forward to getting part 2 of this going especially before July 9. I will most likely pull for him in multi's and this upcoming myth bc my mains are already draining me of diamonds. Fun fact, the text I wrote was inspired from a real breakup text i got once.
Taglist: @dumortiery , @pjselee
if you like to be added please comment in my posts <3
If you see @/weirdislandpear interact with one of your valko posts please block them. They are leaving comments like this
PLEASE DO NOT BELIEVE THEM. THIS IS A FALSE RUMOR.
They are just trying to make people uncomfortable. The don’t bathe in the pot line from the kitchen announcement is actually a Chinese idiom that got mistranslated. That’s why it makes no sense in English. There is no connection to a real life crime.
Valko’s card having noncon in it is a nasty rumor that’s been spreading to make those who are excited about his release upset. Despite its dark themes lads has never put the mc/player in noncon situations. I very much doubt they will do it with the new LI.
Summary: On paper, Zayne was the perfect husband. Attentive, kind, successful. But whenever he was around MC, he looked at her like she was the centre of his world. And that raised the question. What in the world were you - his wife - supposed to be?
Pairings: Non MC x Zayne, MC x Sylus, Blythe x Caleb
Tags: Angst, hurt, comfort, MNDI, soft smut, piv sex, AU, no evol, the LADS are in their 30s, it gets worse before it gets better, emotional infidelity
Word count: 4.9k
A/N: Thank you for all your comments and for all the support! 💖😭It is so wonderful that this story is resonating with you and you feel an emotional connection with the Reader.
If you enjoy this chapter, please comment and reblog! My tag list is always open! Feel free to comment or send me a DM if you want to be added! 💖
Dividers by @orieriee and @saradika-graphics
The next morning, the silence in the apartment was deafening. You woke up to an empty, cold bed, the summer dress from the night before crumpled like a discarded piece of rubbish on the armchair.
When you walked into the kitchen, the coffee pot was cold. Zayne was already gone. He had left for the hospital long before your alarm even rang, avoiding speaking to you entirely.
Standing alone in the quiet kitchen, the raw heat of last night's anger began to give way to a sickening wave of regret.
You hated confrontation.
You had never been the kind of woman to scream or throw accusations, and the memory of your own voice shouting about lack of intimacy and hidden glances made your stomach churn.
Maybe he was right, you thought desperately, grasping at any straw. Maybe I was being irrational. He is a doctor. He has commitments and responsibilities that I cannot even begin to understand.
You resolved right then to fix it. You would swallow your pride, call him, and tell him it was all a misunderstanding. You would apologize for confronting him and bringing up MC.
But as you reached for the kettle, your eyes caught a sleek, silver object sitting on the far end of the kitchen counter. It was Zayne’s laptop. The one that was his personal use rather than work. For a man who never forgot anything, leaving his computer behind was a testament to just how rattled he had actually been when he fled the apartment this morning.
You stared at it. A voice in your head told you to walk away, to respect his privacy, to be the mature, trusting wife you always tried to be. But the heavy dread and suspicion pulled you forward like a moth to a flame.
Your fingers trembled as you lifted the lid. The screen immediately lit up. He hadn't even locked it.
An open messaging app was split across the left side of the screen. Your eyes automatically searched for your own name.
When you found it, the chat log was painfully short and simple in nature: “I’ll be late tonight.” “Yes.” “Don't wait up.” “Understood.” “Can you buy milk?” A couple of messages a day. The digital footprint of two acquaintances sharing a house rather than two people in love.
Right above your name was MC’s chat profile.
You clicked it, your heart hammering against your ribs. There was nothing scandalous. No hidden confessions of love, no inappropriate photos, nothing worrying or explicit. It was perfectly, agonizingly innocent.
But what shattered you was the sheer volume of messages. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. Zayne would text her about his day. He sent her medical articles he found amusing. He asked if she had eaten, warned her about the cold weather, and replied to her silly jokes with dry, witty comments. He gave her the conversational intimacy and the attention that you had been starving for.
The more your read, the more it was becoming apparent that Zayne was never too drained to talk to her.
Blinking back tears, your hand accidentally brushed the trackpad, minimizing the window.
The messaging app disappeared, revealing the desktop background.
The room seemed to tilt on its axis.
Set as his background was a photograph. It was a candid shot of MC, her hair catching the golden glow of a setting sun as she looked out over the city skyline. It was an incredibly intimate, breathtakingly beautiful photo. The kind taken by someone who was completely, helplessly transfixed by the subject.
Beside it, there was folder labelled simply 'MC'. Inside were photographs tracking their entire lives. MC as a little girl with a scraped knee. MC laughing at her graduation ceremony. MC and Zayne standing side-by-side in winter coats and holding up flutes of champagne, his face wearing that rare, genuine warmth you had only ever seen a handful of times.
You stepped back from the counter, your hand flying to your mouth to suppress a sob, overwhelmed by the weight of the digital evidence staring back at you.
He had called you irrational. He had told you that you were projecting your insecurities. He had said that his coldness was nothing more than the exhausting toll of his career.
You were completely shaken to your core, the fragile foundation of your hope entirely pulverized by this discovery. He hadn't married you to build a life. He had married you to pretend that he moved on from the woman he could never have.
It felt like a sucker punch to the gut. Stunned and breathless, you snapped the laptop closed to hide the screen. Minutes later, you were dressed. Unable to bear being in the house another second, you grabbed your bag and ran out of the house.
An hour later you walked into a hotel bar. You drove past the place many times before, but never really cared to go in. The bar was practically empty in the middle of the afternoon. The air smelled of polished wood, citrus peels, and expensive liquor. The low light was perfect for hiding your humiliation from the rest of the world.
You sat down on a leather stool at the far corner of the counter. When the bartender approached, offering a polite, non-judgmental nod, you didn't order wine like you usually would.
You pointed to a dark bottle on the top shelf, something strong and unfamiliar. "That one," you said, your voice quiet but firm. "And make it a double."
The bartender gave a subtle, professional nod, too polite to question why a woman in her mid-thirties was ordering a double shot of hard liquor in the middle of the day. He poured the liquid over a large, clear sphere of ice, the amber fluid swirling against the crystal glass.
You reached out and wrapped your fingers around it. The condensation felt pleasantly cold against your skin, a sharp contrast to the burning humiliation that had been coursing through you all morning. You lifted it to your lips and took a long, heavy sip. The alcohol hit the back of your throat with a fierce, punishing burn, making your eyes water, but you welcomed it. You wanted the burn. You wanted something to overpower the agonizing ache in your chest.
As you stared at the polished mahogany counter, watching the ice slowly melt, you realized you weren't trying to be sensible or accommodating anymore. You were just a woman sitting alone in the dark, waiting for the alcohol to numb the hurt.
You got your phone out, scrolled through your contacts and clicked on his name. With a scowl, you changed it to ‘Dr. Li’. Because as far as you were concerned, that’s all that he was.
You finished the glass, the ice clinking heavily against the crystal, and ordered another. And then one more. The sharp edges of the morning were finally beginning to blur, the alcohol wrapping your raw nerves in a dull, heavy fog. You were not much of a drinker but thinking about nothing sure trumped thinking about what to do with this mess.
After your third drink, you decided to take a little break. Needing to clear your head, you slid off the leather stool and left your purse and phone on the counter, heading down the dim hallway toward the restroom to splash cold water on your face.
Back at the counter, your phone began to vibrate violently. The screen illuminated the polished wood, displaying the name 'Dr. Li' in bold letters. It buzzed until it went to voicemail, only to instantly light up again. And again. And again.
The bartender, who had been wiping down glasses down the line, watched the screen illuminate the dark corner of the bar for the fourth consecutive time. Sensing the urgency, he walked over and picked up the device, sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.
"Hello?" the bartender said, his voice smooth and professional.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Zayne’s deep voice cut through the speaker, it was uncharacteristically tight, stripped of its usual calm. "Who is this? Where is the owner of this phone?"
"I’m just the bartender," the man replied easily, looking toward the restroom hallway. "The lady left her phone at the counter for a moment. Look, Dr. Li, I know that perhaps she’s your patient, but I think she’s having a pretty rough day. If you're calling about an appointment or something, she's really not in the right headspace to—"
"I am not her doctor," Zayne interrupted, his voice dropping into a dangerously dark, commanding register that made the bartender instantly freeze. "I am her husband. Why is my wife at a bar in the middle of a Sunday afternoon?"
The bartender’s eyes widened slightly, a sudden flush of awkwardness hitting him. "Oh. My apologies, man. The caller ID just said 'Dr. Li,' so I assumed... look, I'm sorry for the mix-up. She's fine. This is a pretty expensive place, but she’s had a few drinks."
"Where are you?" Zayne demanded.
"The bar of the Grand Hotel downtown," the bartender said.
"Keep an eye on her," Zayne snapped. "I am on my way."
The line went dead. The bartender slowly set the phone back down on the mahogany counter, looking toward the hallway just as you walked out, entirely unaware Zayne was about thirty minutes away from here.
Half an hour later the heavy glass door of the lounge swung open, admitting a brief flash of the bright Sunday afternoon sun before it clicked shut, plunging the room back into its dim, amber shadows.
You didn't even have to look up to know it was him. It felt like the entire atmosphere of the quiet bar shifted, growing heavy and pressurized under the weight of his presence. Zayne walked in, his long coat slightly parted, his sharp eyes scanning the room before locking onto you.
He didn't say a single word.
He didn't yell. He didn't demand answers. He simply walked over to your stool, picked up your purse and your phone, and paid for your drinks without even looking at the bartender. Then, he reached out, his large, solid hand wrapping firmly but gently around your upper arm, helping you as you slid down from the leather seat. His touch was not ungentle, but his grip was unyielding.
The walk out of the bar and the ride home were wrapped in an absolute silence. Zayne kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road, his jaw set in a hard, rigid line, his hands gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity.
You didn't care enough to look at him.
You just leaned your head against the cool window, watching the Sunday traffic blur past, the heavy fog of the double drinks numbing the sharpest edges of your broken heart.
When the car finally pulled into the garage, the silence followed you like a physical entity. The electronic lock beeped, and you stepped back into the immaculate house. The air was exactly as cold as you had left it. The silver laptop sat on the kitchen counter, looking perfectly innocent to anyone who didn't know the devastation locked inside it.
Zayne closed the front door behind you with a quiet, deliberate click. He set your purse and your phone on the table, his eyes tracking your movements as you kicked off your shoes. He was waiting for something. You could feel the intense, analytical weight of his gaze burning into your back. Maybe he was waiting for the tears. Or waiting for the screaming match from last night to resume.
But you didn't say anything to him. You were done.
You didn't look at the kitchen counter. You didn't ask him why he was home early on a Sunday. With quiet dignity that you didn't even know you possessed, you walked right past him, your feet silent against the hardwood floor.
You walked straight into the master bedroom, closed the door gently behind you, and turned the lock, leaving your husband standing completely alone in the echoing silence of the home that you decided wasn’t yours anymore.
You walked over to the bed, completely exhausted by the emotional whiplash of the weekend, and sat down on the edge. You stared at your hands. You felt slightly numb from the alcohol but not feeling as drunk as you’d hope you would be and waited for the fog in your brain to settle.
You expected him to leave you alone. To retreat to his study, to bury himself in medical journals, or to simply to let you alone as he always did.
Instead, less than an hour minutes later, the doorknob rattled. When it didn't budge, there was a heavy, tense pause on the other side. Then, a shark knock rattled the wood.
"Open the door," Zayne’s voice cut through the barrier. It wasn't his usual calm voice. It was rough, tight, and frayed at the edges.
You didn't answer. You didn't move.
"Open the door," he repeated, louder this time, his knuckles rapping against the wood with a sudden, uncharacteristic impatience. "We are not doing this. Open the door."
Realizing he wasn't going to walk away, you stood up, walked across the room, and unlocked it. You pulled the door open but stood in the doorway, clearly refusing to invite him in, and looked up at him.
Zayne stood still, his tie slightly loosened, his dark hair a little unkempt. The absolute lack of emotion on your face had him frowning. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with heavy, troubled breaths.
"A hotel bar?" Zayne broke the silence. He took a step forward, forcing you to back up slightly into the room, his towering frame casting a long shadow over you. "You decided to go to a bar on a Sunday afternoon and drink yourself stupid over a fight?"
"I was just having a drink, Zayne," you said, your voice entirely detached. "People do that when they're unhappy."
"Unhappy?" He let out a dry breath that sounded dangerously close to a scoff. "Because of a misunderstanding? I told you, I was just-"
"I went through your laptop."
Whatever was on his tongue died instantly and Zayne went entirely rigid. His hazel eyes widened, a sudden, stark vulnerability flashing across his features.
"You left it on the kitchen counter," you continued, your voice steady, though a single tear finally escaped and rolled down your cheek. "I wanted to apologize. Because I thought that you were right and I was being unreasonable. But then I saw it all. And it was wrong of me to snoop. But I had to know."
You looked directly into his eyes.
"I saw the messages, Zayne. Hundreds of them. And the photos. I saw that photo." A broken, humourless laugh escaped your lips.
Zayne opened his mouth to speak, but for the first time in his life, the brilliant doctor had no words. He looked completely exposed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“Nothing ever happened,” he finally managed, his voice strained.
“I know.”
But it didn’t make it better. To Zayne, infidelity meant sex, whispered promises, the betrayal of bodies. He thought compliance with the rules equalled fidelity. But it didn't make it better. Somehow it made everything infinitely worse.
"You don't love me," you said quietly, but firmly. "You never did. You just wanted a safe, quiet life so you could pretend to the world that you moved on. But she is still the one you want. Your life is a complete mess and you dragged me into it. Not only that, but you dared, you fucking dared to tell me that I was delusional."
You rarely swore, hating how the profanities made you feel. Zayne didn’t react to it either. He stood frozen in the doorway, his chest heaving as your words stripped him of every defence. The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with the weight of everything he could no longer deny.
You looked at him. Really looked at him. And in that moment you didn’t see Zayne Li. You saw a man who was just like your father. A man who carelessly tossed aside everything that you offered and made you suffer when he knew, he fucking knew, that you weren’t the problem.
You looked at the slight disarray of his hair, the tension in his broad shoulders, and the sudden, raw panic in his eyes and realized you didn't have the energy to listen to an explanation. It didn't matter if he apologized. It didn't matter if he tried to explain. You were done with wanting to understand him.
"I am going to close the door now," you said, your voice dropping into a flat, quiet finality that sounded entirely foreign to your own ears.
Zayne flinched, his jaw tightening as he took a half-step forward, his hand instinctively reaching out toward you. "Listen to me—"
"I don't want to see you until the morning, Zayne," you cut him off, not raising your voice, not giving him an inch of room to negotiate.
You looked him dead in the eye, your gaze steady despite the single tear tracking down your cheek. "Do not knock again."
Before he could find his voice, you reached out, took hold of the edge of the door and firmly pulled it shut.
On the other side of the door, there was absolute stillness. You stood with your back against the wood, your breath shallow, waiting to see if his stubborn pride would make him demand entry, or if he would raise his voice to defend himself.
But he didn't.
You could hear the faint, heavy sound of his breathing, a solid, troubled presence right on the threshold.
After a long, agonizing minute, you heard the faint rustle of his clothes as he finally stepped back. His footsteps were slow and uncharacteristically heavy as he walked down the hallway, retreating toward the other side of the house.
When you heard the door of the guest room finally click shut, the last of your strength gave out. You sank down against the locked bedroom door, pulling your knees tightly to your chest. The dull numbness of the alcohol was almost gone now, leaving behind only the sharp, piercing reality of the weekend that had changed everything.
The sun rose on Monday morning with an unforgiving brightness, bathing the bedroom in pale light. You hadn’t slept well. You had spent the night drifting between a heavy, exhausted stupor and the sharp reality of your shattered marriage.
When you unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen at 7:00 AM, Zayne was already there.
He wasn't in his surgical scrubs or a tailored suit. He was still wearing the dark trousers and button-down shirt from yesterday, but the sleeves rolled up. He sat at the table, a completely cold cup of black coffee resting between his hands. He looked up the moment you entered. The dark circles under his eyes and the hollow shadow along his jawline told you he hadn't slept either.
The silver laptop sat on the far corner of the counter, closed and untouched, like an unexploded bomb between you.
You didn't start making breakfast. You simply stood near the entryway, your arms crossed defensively over your chest. "I'm listening," you said quietly. "No more excuses, Zayne. Just the truth."
Zayne looked down at his coffee, his large hands tightening around the porcelain. For a long, agonizing moment, the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator.
"I went to the botanical garden yesterday," Zayne broke the silence, his voice incredibly rough and devoid of its usual steadiness. He looked up, meeting your gaze with a raw, painful vulnerability you had never seen in him before. "Before I went to the bar to get you. I went there because I didn't know how to talk to you after what we said to each other last night."
He let out a slow, ragged breath.
"You were right," Zayne confessed, the words clearly tearing out of his throat. "About all of it. I lied to you. I have loved MC for almost my entire life. I loved her when we were children, I loved her through the worst years of our lives, and I loved her silently when she chose Sylus."
Hearing him say the words out loud felt like a physical blow to your chest, but you forced yourself to stand still, absorbing the impact.
"When I went to the matchmaking agency, I told myself I was doing the rational thing," Zayne continued, his eyes shining with a bitter, defensive sorrow. "I told myself that part of my life was dead and buried. I met you, and you were warm, interesting, beautiful, independent, and good. I genuinely thought I could give you a stable, comfortable life. I thought a quiet, dutiful marriage would be enough for both of us."
He stood up, taking an agonizing step toward you, though he kept his distance.
"But I was cowardly," Zayne whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "I thought that if I kept my distance, if I buried myself in surgeries and research, I wouldn't have to face the fact that I was failing you. The messages... the photos... they are a habit of a lifetime that I didn't know how to break."
He stopped, his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely stripped of his pride and his defences. For the first time since you met him, Zayne Li was giving you the absolute, unvarnished truth. It wasn't the truth you wanted, and it didn't make up for the months of isolation, but it was honest.
"I don't love you. At least, not in the way you want me to," Zayne confessed, the words cutting through the air with a brutal, devastating honesty. "I married you because I thought I could build a stable life. At the time, I thought that choosing someone warm and kind would allow me to move on. That everything would be... uncomplicated. But I was incredibly selfish."
"I am deeply sorry for what I did to you," Zayne whispered. " I am sorry for taking your time, your affection, and your trust, and giving you nothing but isolation in return."
“But I think we should stay married,” Zayne said, his voice regaining a touch of that familiar, steady authority as he looked at you across the kitchen island. “What we have… is safe. Frankly, it is better than most marriages. We are compatible. We don't fight, and we provide a good life for each other. We can make this work.”
You looked at him, your chest tight. To him, a marriage was like a successful surgery. It needed zero complications and a stable pulse. But it wasn’t enough. This was stasis, where the natural flow of change and growth was halted and you were stuck with something neither wanted. This was unnatural.
“I have to think,” you whispered and fled back to the bedroom.
You didn't pack a full suitcase; you just threw a few essentials into a small overnight bag while he watched from the bedroom doorway, his expression an unreadable mix of stoicism and brewing panic. You drove downtown and checked into a hotel and that was as far and as much as you could do for yourself for the time being.
You paid with cash and used your maiden name. Because you really meant it when you said that you needed to think. You were about to make one of the most life-changing, potentially devastating decisions of your life. You didn’t want any witnesses to your pain and you didn’t want anyone influencing your decision.
Your only call was to your mother, just to tell her what happened. You expected little sympathy, but her flat, empty reaction still caught you off guard. You braced for her order to go back home. Instead, she surprisingly told you to stay put and take your time.
For two days, you lived in a hazy limbo. You ordered room service you barely touched. You stared at the ceiling. You tried to weigh the cold comfort of a secure, wealthy life against the agonizing vacuum of his affection. In the end it all came down to one thing.
You loved him. And that was the problem.
On Tuesday evening, a knock sounded at your hotel room door.
You opened it to find Zayne standing in the dimly lit hallway. He looked dishevelled, his top button was undone and his shirt was wrinkled, and his eyes carried a dark, intense anguish you had never seen in him before. He didn't ask for permission. He stepped into the room, caught your waist in his large hands, threw the door closed behind him, and pulled you against his chest.
Before you could say a word, he kissed you.
It was a fierce, bruising kiss, filled with a sudden, overwhelming urgency. You were entirely unsure what to think. Was this remorse? Was this fear of the unknown? But as his warmth enveloped you, the months of starvation won. You loved him. God help you, you loved him so much. And he was here and he was yours. So, you let yourself enjoy this moment.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, parted your lips, and kissed him back with equal desperation.
The clothes came off in a frantic, uncharacteristic rush, scattering across the carpeted hotel floor. He lifted you onto the bed, his weight grounding and heavy, his hands gripping your skin with a possessive strength that felt entirely real. For a few breathtaking minutes, losing yourself in the heat and the familiar rhythm of his body, you actually believed things could change. You let yourself hope that his apology would be the pivotal moment in your relationship that you were hoping for.
His lips were on your temple, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, his pace quickening as the tension in the room reached its absolute peak. He gripped your hips tightly, his voice breaking in a low, breathless groan against your ear-
But the words you desperately needed to hear never came.
Zayne didn't pause, he didn’t say anything. There were no apologies or declarations. His rhythm didn't falter. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breathing remaining heavy, ragged, and frantic as he carried himself over the edge of his own release. He was entirely consumed by the moment.
When it was over, the heavy, suffocating silence crawled back into the hotel room.
Zayne rolled off you, his chest rising and falling as he stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, his breathing began to slow. He reached out, his warm hand finding your arm in the dark, his thumb gently stroking your skin in a gesture he likely thought was comforting.
The two of you lay next to each other. Occupying the same space but somehow far apart.
“How did you know where to find me?” you asked.
“Your mother called.”
A bitter clarity washed over you.
So that was why she insisted you stay put.
Your mother probably convinced herself she was helping, but it was always about her own reputation. She adored Zayne. The moment you secured a rich, handsome husband, she finally had the ultimate weapon to lord it over the neighbourhood women who used to whisper about you being still 'on the shelf.'
"Come back home tomorrow," Zayne murmured. He turned his head to look at you. His silver-rimmed glasses were on the nightstand, leaving his hazel eyes looking softer in the shadows. "We can put this weekend behind us. This... tonight... It proves we can still find our balance. We can make this work."
“How?”
He didn’t answer right away. To a stranger, he might have seemed breathless or lost in the afterglow. But you knew him too well. The silence stretched because he simply had no answers. For you, that empty pause was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage.
“We will find a way,” he finally said.
You turned away and lay perfectly still on your side, your back turned toward him, staring blankly at the artwork on the hotel wall. You didn't pull away from his touch. You didn't cry.
He didn't know how to fix this either.
And this was the cruellest truth of all. And you had to accept it.
"I'm going to take a shower," you whispered.
You slid out from under the covers, carefully avoiding his hand, and gathered your discarded clothes from the floor, not wanting to be bare in front of him. As you walked into the bathroom and closed the door, you didn't look in the mirror. After all, what was there to see except the woman who clung onto a man so pathetically that she chose to ignore every red flag in existence?
Standing under the scalding water, you let the heat turn your skin red. You knew, with absolute, terrifying clarity, that you could never go back to what you were.
Summary: On paper, Zayne was the perfect husband. Attentive, kind, successful. But whenever he was around MC, he looked at her like she was the centre of his world. And that raised the question. What in the world were you - his wife - supposed to be?
Pairings: Non MC x Zayne, MC x Sylus, Blythe x Caleb
Tags: Angst, hurt, comfort, MNDI, soft smut, piv sex, AU, no evol, the LADS are in their 30s, it gets worse before it gets better, emotional infidelity
Word count: 4.7k
Dividers by @orieriee and @diviniyae
A/N: Thank you so much for your comments! 💖 I included a little more about the Reader into this one. I hope it gives some insight into why she tries so hard with Zayne. She is an unreliable narrator and is motivated by her want to justify Zayne's actions in an attempt to create what she sees as a safe environment. She ignores the obvious red flags to maintain the illussion of happiness. For her, admitting the truth means her entire sense of safety and sense of normality collapses.
Hope you enjoy this chapter! It got too long, so I decided to split it into two.
Married life had quickly settled into a quiet, distant routine. Zayne’s demanding career as a world-renowned surgeon meant he was rarely home on time, a reality you tried hard to accept as the unavoidable price of his calling. Your mornings now followed a strict, unyielding pattern to accommodate his schedule.
You would wake up an hour before when you needed to wake up and cook breakfast while he went for his morning run. You would eat together in pleasant efficiency, then head out to work. You always returned hours before him, pottered around the house, tended your garden, cooked dinner that would slowly cool, and tried desperately to stay awake. Late at night, you would finally feel the mattress dip as he crawled into bed beside you. And that was it.
On rare occasions, Zayne would take you out on a date. It was always perfectly orchestrated. Perhaps a nice evening at an expensive restaurant filled with pleasant, polite conversation. A movie night complete with popcorn and various sweets. A weekend ride into the countryside where you two would share a quiet picnic.
Sex, if and when it happened, was amazing. He made sure that you came at least once. The physical encounters with Zayne were a confusing mix of intense gratification and heartbreaking distance. When he did touch you, his precision in anything he put his mind to translated into an overwhelming, breathless mastery that left your body entirely consumed. He was unfailingly thorough, using his hands and mouth with a focused dedication that ensured your pleasure, never allowing the encounter to end until he felt your body shatter beneath him.
Yet, beneath the heat of his touch, his passion felt deliberate. A flawless execution of a procedure. Something that he did because he was meant to. There was no fun, mess or chaos. No bumping noses or awkwardness. No bursts of affection, no vulnerability in his eyes, and no soft, unprompted whispers in the dark. As you lay in his arms afterward, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was merely performing the duties of a husband, leaving his heart entirely untouched.
You were worried at first when the occasions when you were intimate with your husbands became scarce and far between. But then you reminded yourself that settling into a routine meant that passion became less of a priority. Besides, how could you complain when your husband was out there saving lives?
You were grateful for your life. To any outsider looking in, it would seem flawless.
You genuinely loved your job. Being a teacher was not everyone’s cup of tea, but you found true joy in working with children. You loved your friends, too. Blythe could not spend as much time with you as before now that she was pregnant with her second child, but you had recently reconnected with a few close friends from university.
And then, of course, there was MC.
Despite your deep-seated insecurities and how much you still hated the soft, rare look on Zayne’s face whenever her name was casually mentioned, MC was a great person. She invited you to hang out with her and her co-workers Tara and Simone. When you mentioned that you weren’t really sure what would look good in the sparsely decorated house, she whisked you off on a shopping trip, pushing you to buy the gorgeous things to decorate your home that both of you knew were more to your taste than Zayne’s. Not that Zayne commented on anything that you purchased. When he was actually around, he seemed to treat your house as more of a space where he’d spend time between surgeries rather than a home.
And, of course, you loved your husband. How could you not? He was everything a dutiful husband was supposed to be. Except sometimes, late at night as you lay alone in your marital bed waiting for him, you wondered. Wondered if he truly cared about you as a person, or if he just cared about portraying a certain image of a perfect life.
But you always told yourself that it was fine. Your life was fine. You were fine. Zayne was fine. If anything, you felt that thinking otherwise was you being ungrateful. Many women would kill to have such a comfortable, stable life and a secure relationship. It was certainly better than the relationship your parents had.
To this day you were unsure why your mother hadn’t left your father. To everyone else, he was a charming, handsome man who doted on his beautiful, elegant wife and somewhat plain, unremarkable daughter. But behind closed doors, he was a tyrant who took out all his frustrations with his life on you. He had never hit you. The torture was psychological only. You still remembered vividly how you felt when the call about his fatal car accident came. You didn’t feel sadness, just relief. And what kind of a monster feels that way about her own father?
Perhaps it was the lingering guilt that pushed you to try harder in your marriage. Or perhaps it was the feeling that you could never measure up to the man who chose you. Whatever it was, you knew that you won the husband lottery. You were with a man who never shouted, belittled you or let others disrespect you, and treated you with care. Perhaps your relationship was not as emotionally close as you hoped and dreamed. But you were going to try harder, pour more of yourself in it, and make sure that it would eventually become the real, deep love that you craved.
And for now, you contented yourself with spending an occasional afternoon with Blythe, Caleb, and their toddler. With Blythe heavily pregnant with their second son, Caleb had managed to take a significant chunk of time off from his military duties to be with his growing family. It must have been incredibly difficult to arrange, but he had secured a rare three-month leave out of the six he had originally pushed for.
“Argh, I’m such a whale!” Blythe groaned, dropping rather inelegantly onto the sofa beside you. “And you look so pretty and just look at your perfect legs! I kinda hate you right now.”
“Don’t say that,” you laughed gently, squeezing her hand. “You are absolutely glowing.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The miracle of life and all that,” she scoffed playfully. Then, she raised her voice, directing it toward the kitchen. “I swear, this is the last one, Caleb! I’m not doing this again!”
“That’s what you said the last time!” Caleb called back, his voice full of easy amusement.
“Well, I mean it this time!” Blythe yelled back, crossing her arms over her round belly. “Don’t you dare come near me for the next ten years!”
Caleb grinned as he walked into the living room. Without a word of complaint, he popped a spoonful of ice cream directly into her mouth to quiet her down, before handing her the rest of the bowl.
“Even if I have ice cream?” he teased.
Blythe swallowed, a smile blooming on her face. “Only if you have ice cream.”
Watching them, a familiar, quiet ache bloomed in your chest. You looked down at your hands, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I wish Zayne was around more.”
“Is he still working himself stupid?” Caleb asked. His expression softened as he noticed how nervous you were. He handed you a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. “And here I thought that Mr. Snowman would actually allow himself to be human from time to time.”
“He’s just really busy,” you murmured, your fingers tightening around the warm coffee mug Caleb had handed you. You forced a small, practiced smile to your lips, automatically stepping into the familiar role of an understanding wife. “There’s been so many complex cardiac cases at the hospital lately. He’s one of the few surgeons who can handle them.”
Blythe rolled her eyes affectionately over her bowl of ice cream, though her gaze remained sharp and perceptive. “Hun, lives are always on the line. He was a workaholic when he was twenty, and he’s a workaholic now. But he’s a married man now. He needs to realize his schedule affects you.”
“It’s fine, really,” you insisted, your voice carrying a desperate edge of reassurance. “I knew what I was signing up for. And I really want him to succeed. Besides, when he is home, he’s incredibly attentive. He always remembers exactly what I like, and he takes care of everything.”
Caleb sat down in a nearby armchair, holding his own cup of coffee. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his violet, striking eyes studying you with quiet concern. Unlike Blythe's bluntness, Caleb's approach was almost brotherly in its gentleness.
“Look, we all respect Zayne’s dedication,” Caleb said. “But even the military gives us leave to be with our families. A marriage can’t survive on the scraps of someone’s time, no matter how noble their job is. You’re allowed to miss your husband. You’re allowed to want him ‘round.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and stared down at the slice of cake on your plate, suddenly unable to meet Caleb’s eyes. If they only knew that it wasn’t just the long hours that hurt.
“Anyway, enough about Zayne,” you said quickly, forcing a brighter note into your voice as you set your coffee mug down on the table. “We should be focusing on the two of you. Three months of uninterrupted family time is incredible, Caleb. How did you even manage to pull that off with your superiors?”
Caleb stared at you for a heartbeat too long, clearly recognizing the pivot for what it was, but he let it go. He offered a warm, easy smile and leaned back. “Let’s just say I might have done a few favours for the commanding officer. Plus, I think they are scared of Mrs. Xia here.”
“Damn right,” Blythe muttered happily, taking another large spoonful of ice cream. “But seriously, it’s been amazing having him here to help chase our toddler around. I don't think my back could take it.”
You listened to them talk, nodding and smiling in all the right places as the conversation shifted to the chaotic joy of raising a family. It was obvious that they were a team. Navigating the challenges of Caleb's career together without losing their warmth or their connection. The contrast between their genuine, messy affection and your own pristine, silent marriage was deafening.
By the time you finally said your goodbyes and stepped out into the cool evening air, the weight of loneliness was entirely suffocating. Sitting in the driver's seat of your car, you gripped the steering wheel.
A marriage can’t survive on the scraps of someone’s time.
You wiped your eyes with a rough, jerky movement and took a deep breath. There was no use comparing their family dynamic with the one that you had. Every marriage was different. As you drove off, you once again reminded yourself that everything was fine.
You spent the rest of the day losing yourself in your garden, tending to blooms big and small. Wiping your hands on a cloth, you stood back to admire your hard work. Vines of star jasmine flirted with the pink variety, both climbing a vertical archway lush with glossy, dark green leaves and fragrant petals. Nearby sat the evergreen shrubs of Arabian jasmine, which you would soon harvest, dry, and mix with green tea for a calming floral brew. These jasmines were your absolute favourites. Though you would never admit that out loud, of course! Every flower was tended with love, but the abundance of jasmine was deliberate. It was your quiet trap to lure your husband outside, to convince him to sit with you on the swing you had installed a few weeks ago. You could picture it perfectly. The two of you surrounded by greenery and fresh, floral scents, sipping tea and eating the delicate pastries he loved so much.
Smiling, you checked the time. Zayne wasn't due home for hours. There was plenty of time left for your secret.
Walking into the far corner of the garden, you dug a little and unearthed your diary. It was stored in a waterproof container and wrapped up tightly. You knew that perhaps it made you objectively crazy to hide your diary. But you needed an outlet for your emotions and didn’t know what Zayne would think if he ever happened to come across it.
You hadn’t always hidden your thoughts away like that. As a quiet, easily startled child that could not make friends and once she did was uprooted and thrust into a different school, you still needed someone to talk to. So diaries became your companions. The things you documented were innocent enough. Dreams, Christmas and Birthday gifts, stories that you wrote about stories that you had enjoyed reading. But as you grew older, you documented your raw, unfiltered emotions. And that was your mistake.
Even now, you could still see your father’s face as he held your open diary, its pages violated by his angry, prying eyes.
“Is this what you really think of us? Huh? That we are unreasonable? That we are unfair? After all we've done for you over the years? Answer me!”
Hot tears had rolled down your cheeks as your lips trembled, your eyes glued to the floor.
“I said answer me! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
You had forced yourself to look up. He was standing too close, almost thrusting the diary into your face. “I bet this is what you go around telling people, too! You ungrateful little shit.”
“I—”
“Well?”
“I don’t.”
“Liar! I’ll cure you of that!”
With a sharp blink, you shook your head, forcing the bitter memory to dissolve back into the past. You stood up, walked over to the garden swing, and took off your shoes. Pulling your knees tight against your chest, you promised yourself you wouldn't think of him anymore. That life was gone. Dead and buried. You had a wonderful life now, and a kind husband. Yet, sometimes, when you looked across the table at Zayne as he silently scrolled through his phone during breakfast or the occasional dinner, you deeply wished you could share more of yourself with him. Perhaps, one day, you would.
You were really good at lying to yourself. Practice makes perfect, after all. But no matter how much you convinced yourself that you were happy with the way things were, as days passed and the air started to grow cooler, you could no longer ignore the truth.
The illusion finally shattered on a Saturday night in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store. As you stood there alone, trying to decide on an ice cream treat to eat by yourself, a sudden, staggering realization hit you. The last time you and your husband had been intimate was seven months ago. And you were only two years into your marriage.
Your immediate knee-jerk reaction was to blame yourself, wondering if the lack of physical warmth was entirely your fault. Because you hated confrontation and knew how exhausted he always was, you had stayed silent for months to avoid becoming a cliché. That is, the nagging, demanding wife who puts her own needs before her husband’s career.
No, you told yourself, that wasn’t who you were. You just weren’t trying hard enough. Shaking off the sudden loneliness, you decided to surprise him. Instead of spending another Saturday evening alone watching a film, you put on your favourite summer dress, the one that had his gaze lingering on your back a moment too long to be accidental, packed a basket full of desserts, and drove straight to the hospital. You were determined to bridge the distance between you in whatever way you could.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Li is not here," the receptionist told you politely when you arrived.
"Oh, I see," you stammered, caught off guard. "I thought he had two more surgeries tonight."
"No, he clocked out about an hour ago."
You quickly thanked the receptionist, commenting on how forgetful you were and hoping desperately that she didn’t notice how tight and fragile your smile had become.
Sitting down on a bench just outside the hospital entrance, putting down the useless basket of sweets beside you, you felt a heavy, suffocating dread settle deep in your chest.
If he wasn't working, was it possible that he was avoiding you?
It just didn’t make any sense. With how completely exhausted he was every day after work, surely Zayne would want to get home and unwind in his own space as early as he possibly could.
No, you reasoned, you were just overthinking things again. You tended to do that. He was probably already home, walking through the door right now and wondering where you were.
And yet, when you returned to the dark, silent house forty minutes later, he still wasn't there.
Feeling a sudden wave of desperation, and terrified that something terrible might have happened to the man you loved, you called his phone. It went straight to voicemail. Feeling increasingly frantic, you called again, and again, and again.
With nowhere else to turn, you realized there was only one person left who might know his habits outside the hospital. You dialled her number.
"Hello?" MC answered on the second ring.
"Um, hi! I’m so sorry to call you out of the blue like this," you stammered, your throat tightening as you tried to keep your voice steady. "But I was wondering if you might know where Zayne is. He’s not at work, he’s not answering his phone, and I’m just… I'm really worried something happened to him."
In the background, you suddenly heard the distinct rustle of clothing and movement. "Wait, hang on. No, Sylus, I can't right now," MC whispered. Then, cutting clearly through the line, you heard Sylus mutter a single, low word: "Idiot." MC quickly shushed him, her tone sharp.
Your face burned with an immediate, agonizing flush of humiliation. Was Sylus calling you an idiot? Was he mocking you for being a clueless, desperate wife who had to call her husband's childhood friend just to track him down on a Saturday night? You felt incredibly small, stripped of all your pride in a single second.
"I'm sorry, I don't know exactly where Zayne is right now," MC said, her voice laced with almost sisterly protective worry. "But he sometimes does research or clears his head outside the hospital walls, so that's probably why his phone is turned off. You know how he is! Getting so completely caught up with his work that he forgets everything else around him."
"Sure. Yes. Thank you," you whispered. You hung up the phone, letting it drop against the sofa cushions, and stared out into the empty night. The phone screen dimmed, casting a faint blue glow over your hands before going entirely dark.
You sat on the edge of the sofa in the living room. You shivered, still in your light summer dress. The house was cold. Zayne preferred the thermostat kept at a precise, lower temperature. He said it was a habit from years in sterile, heavily climate-controlled operating theatres.
Your face still burned with the memory of the call. “No, Sylus, I can't right now.” And then that single, low word.
Idiot.
Was Sylus annoyed that your frantic call interrupted whatever private moment they were sharing? Was he annoyed that you were taking up his wife’s time and asking inane questions about your husband’s whereabouts? Or had he been looking at the situation from the outside, his sharp, cynical intelligence instantly diagnosing the pathetic reality of your marriage? A wife sitting alone in a dark house at ten o'clock on a Saturday night, calling her husband’s lifelong crush to ask where he was.
You looked down at your lap.
The soft, pale blue cotton dress with small embroidered flowers felt entirely ridiculous. It wasn’t meant for someone like you. It was meant for someone full of hope and laughter, for a woman who felt cherished, loved and seen. On you, it looked like a desperate attempt to play the role of someone else.
Seven months.
How had you let seven months slip by without acknowledging what was really going on? You had spent all that time telling yourself that everything was fine. You had swept all your worries under a rug and focused on keeping to a routine. You woke up early, made his coffee, watched the disciplined line of his back as he left for his morning runs, and convinced yourself that this structured, peaceful co-existence was what mature, healthy love looked like.
You had poured yourself into your work at the school. You had leaned on your friends. And you had genuinely tried with MC. Perhaps that was the most painful part. She wasn't a villain. If she had been cruel or dismissive, it would have been so much easier to hate her. And although MC could be careless and difficult, she was kind. She had genuinely cared about helping you and including you.
But Zayne’s heart didn't care how much you tried. It seemed that no matter what you did, his heart did not belong to you.
“He sometimes does research outside the hospital,” MC had said, her voice full of gentle rationalization. “You know how he is.”
It was a beautiful lie. But you wanted to face the truth now, no matter how it made you feel.
Zayne Li did not wander aimlessly. He was a man of absolute precision, of rigorous schedules and micro-managed time. If he was missing for hours after a shift, it was because he had actively chosen to be somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't here. Somewhere far away from the woman he had legally bound himself to.
The electronic lock on the front door beeped at exactly eleven thirty PM, the mechanical latch sliding back shattered the quiet.
Your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body went rigid as the door swung open, admitting a gust of night air from the hallway. Zayne stepped into the apartment looking exactly as he always did. He was perfectly put-together, sharp, and imposing. He wore a dark, tailored coat over his suit, his medical bag held firmly in his left hand. His silver-rimmed glasses caught the faint light of the hallway before he closed the door behind him.
He paused in the entryway, his hazel-green eyes tracing the dark living room until they locked onto you sitting on the sofa. He didn't look frantic or apologetic. He didn't look like a man who had accidentally lost track of time. His expression was an unreadable mask.
“You’re still awake,” Zayne said, his voice cutting through the air. He set his bag down on the coffee table and began unbuttoning his coat with slow, deliberate movements. “And the lights are off. Is something wrong with the electricity?”
He didn't mention his phone. He didn't apologize for being late. He didn't even seem to notice the dress or the basket sitting at your feet. He was simply analysing the environment, treating whatever this was like a puzzle to be solved. You sat there in the dark, looking at the flawless, beautiful man, you loved so desperately. And in that moment, you knew with perfect clarity that you had enough.
"You're still up," he repeated, his voice betraying his fatigue. "I told you not to wait up for me."
"I went to the hospital today. You weren't there, Zayne," you said. Your voice was quiet, but the absolute lack of a tremor surprised even you.
He paused, his hand dropping. "I had research to review. I went to a quiet cafe near the hospital to get away from it all."
"Your phone was off."
"The battery died." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, it's been a long day. If this is about me missing dinner again—"
"We haven't slept together in seven months."
The words cut through the room like a physical blade. Zayne froze. The distant mask he always wore seemed to crack for a fraction of a second, his hazel eyes widening slightly before slamming shut again.
"I am a surgeon," he said, his tone tightening, turning defensive. "My schedule is demanding. I am mentally and physically drained when I get home. It isn't personal."
"Isn't it?" You stood up from the couch, finally letting months of buried hurt rise to the surface. "You have enough energy to go running every single morning. You have enough energy to go out of your way for extra research. And you certainly make an effort when it comes to MC."
He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I saw the way you looked at MC before we got married," you said, your throat tightening. "I saw the way you looked at her at our own wedding. Whenever she is around, you look at her like she hung the stars. And then you come home to me, and you look right through me."
Zayne’s posture went entirely rigid. "MC is my friend. She is married to Sylus. You are being completely irrational."
"Am I?" You took a step closer to him, refusing to back down. "I called her tonight because I was terrified something happened to you. Do you know what I heard? I heard Sylus in the background calling someone an idiot. Was he talking about you, Zayne? Or was he talking about me, for being stupid enough to marry a man who is clearly in love with someone else?"
Silence fell over the room. Zayne stared at you. His jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched in his cheek. For the first time in your marriage, the distance between you wasn't just a physical absence.
This was war.
The vulnerability you thought you glimpsed vanished, replaced instantly by a cold, impenetrable wall. He straightened, his eyes turning dismissive as he drew himself up to his full height.
"This is completely absurd," Zayne said, his voice becoming dangerously calm, as if he was speaking to someone out of their mind. "You are projecting your own insecurities onto my friendships and my career."
He walked past you, throwing his keys onto the kitchen counter with a loud, sharp clatter that made you flinch.
"I am a surgeon," he continued, turning to face you with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "My days are spent dealing with life-and-death stakes and gruelling physical exhaustion. When I come home, I need peace. I do not have the emotional bandwidth to reassure you because you feel intimidated by MC or because you're overanalysing a passing glance from months ago."
"So, the last seven months are just me overanalysing?" Your voice shook, his words making you angry and giving you the strength to soldier on. "The lack of intimacy, the empty bed, the distance between us… You are telling me that's just all in my head?"
"This is the reality of marrying a doctor," Zayne snapped, his tone entirely devoid of warmth. "I am tired. I am drained. If you wanted a husband who was home by five, you shouldn't have agreed to marry me. My commitment to this marriage is shown in the life I provide for us, not by how many times I can force myself to ask you about your day after a fourteen-hour shift."
He looked at you, his eyes flat and distant, completely denying the emotional vacuum he had left you in.
"Sylus was calling me an idiot. It had absolutely nothing to do with you," Zayne said, his face an unreadable mask. "I am going to sleep in the guest room tonight. I suggest you use the time to calm down."
He turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, closing the guest room door behind him with a firm, decisive click. He left you alone in the dark living room, colder and more isolated than you had ever been.
Colonel Caleb x non mc! reader CW: Angst/ mentions of sickness/ set in the 1920s/ mild suggestive content/ infidelity/mentions of pregnancy/ 1.6k words
“Colonel, everything is ready. We'll be landing in Skyhaven without a problem.” “Do we have any leads yet on the traitor who almost sank us in Deepspace three days ago?” His fingers trail through the countless documents as a shadow fell over the Colonel's eyes. “I'm afraid not. Maybe our navigation was off. It could've also been unexpected turbulence,” the adjutant said. “Hmph.” Dull eyes look away from the papers as he stands up and walks away. “This trip was for the new fleet colonel. The old guard are looking forward to me not coming back.” He stops in front of the door. The faint sound of a knife being taken out can be heard from behind him. “Unfortunately for them, I already danced with death once.” The man behind disguised as an adjutant sprints towards him but is stopped by his gravitational manipulation. A mere inch from his waist, the knife he tries to penetrate through the invisible veil of gravity darts back on a wall. “I won't die again.” The invisible force pulls the adjutant down onto the floor. His breathing becomes heavy. “It doesn't matter if you succeed or fail,” he says, his back facing the man that tried to kill him. “You've chosen treason, so the consequences are still the same.” He pulls out his gun and adjusts the trigger then points it to the adjutant's head. “You don't need to return to Skyhaven.”
“My lady, you must not run around like this. Your health-” “He's coming home today!” Happiness beams on your face as you run around your room, getting dressed and somewhat fixing your bed head as quickly as you can. “Besides, the doctor said I'm doing much better than before. I'm sure a little running around won't cause me to be bedridden again.” From afar you hear the horns of a car and you quickly slip past the maid and run down the stairs. “My lady where are you-” “He's here!” The butler calls out from behind you as you run down the steps of the front door. The giddy feeling in your chest only elevates as you see the man before you and catch him off guard completely by running into his arms.“You're finally home! I've missed you,” you pant, breathless from running so much. He takes in your scent and buries his face in your neck. “I've missed you so much.” You cup his face in your hands, taking a good look at his face. You were still feeling a little breathless. He's holding you by the waist and slowly puts you down. A worried look taking over his face. “You shouldn't run around like this. You'll only tire yourself out,” he says, sweeping strands of hair away from your face. You only giggle and grin at him, making him smile in return.
The branches of the tree sway gently as two figures rest under it. Your head on his shoulder and his head on yours. His arm around you, stroking your hair. The familiar smell of your hair reminds him of the childhood summer days when he carried you in his arms as laughter filled his ears and laid his head on your lap under this same tree. Things have changed since then. Ever since your sickness, things have been quieter than before, a bit slower. Nonetheless his love for you only grew with each passing day. Guilt consumed his heart for not being there with you while you battled each day, alone. His Colonel duties keep him away from you, but you never blame him for that. You understand he's doing it all for your sake and it makes you feel guilty sometimes that you've become such a burden for him.
“Caleb?” You say his name softly. “Hm?” “Let's have a baby.” He stroked your hair gently. If there's anything Caleb hated more than anything it's seeing you disappointed and hurt. “You know we can't.” “But the doctor said that I'm doing much better now.” You tilt your head and look at him with those eyes. Those yearnful eyes. “I cannot risk you for that.”
“Conceiving and carrying a child with her current condition will put her at great risk.” Zayne was your primary care physician and a trusted friend of both you and Caleb. He trusted Zayne with your health. “It would be either her or the baby. We cannot save both.” The truth was too much for you to handle. You broke down and cried for days. He hated seeing you that way. First, you had to give up on your dreams and now this. He knows how lonely you get and he hated the sight of you bedridden. “It'd be nice to have a little you running around keeping me company.” You had said once. You had dreams and ambitions but because of your poor health, gave them up in a quiet surrender. “It's alright, I have one of my dreams come true already, you.” You smiled at him. You always did. You never let him know your quiet pains.
“I'm sorry.” It's not that he didn't want children with you. The opposite in fact. He once dreamed of having a big family with you, to see you hold his child. But he would never risk you for a baby. He would always choose you.
That night you stayed up late, telling Caleb everything that's happened while he was gone. “Caleb,” you say while tracing the side of his arm. He was sitting on the edge of the bed putting his night shirt on. “Yes?” “It's... been a while since.. you know.” “Since what?,” he said while buttoning his shirt. “Since we've made...” You trail off and he stops doing what he was doing and you could see from the side of his face that his ears were flushed red. Your own cheeks heating up. “It's-” “Cmon, we did it before and I'm doing better now.” He looked at you, his face flushed and red. The bed shifted under his weight as he slowly climbed on top of you. Your thrumming against your chest as he caressed your cheek and put a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled lightly and he kissed you. So deeply and passionately, it made him realize how much he missed you. Your one hand caressed the back of his head and trailed down to his neck and the other wrapped around his shoulder. You panted and sighed as his kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck. His hands gently unbuttoning the front of your nightdress. “I love you.”
Birds chirped outside as dawn approached. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. His shirt and your nightdress lay on the floor from the night before. You were in your chemise now and his bare chest rested against your back, his head nuzzled in the space between your shoulder and neck. “Caleb.” “Hm?” He hummed. “Do you remember the first time we did it?” He shifted a little. “Your parent's old shed cottage.” You smiled and turned around to face him. “Yeah, that old shed.”
Things were simple back then. It was before you were diagnosed with your illness. You spent the Summers with him and every Summer you grew closer with each other. He was your first love, first kiss and first everything as you were his. You were young and a bit reckless too. Making love to each other for the first time as teenagers not knowing if both of you were caught by your parents that would've been your last Summer with him. But it was Caleb, everything felt right with him.
“A great Summer it was.” “It was storming that day.” “Yeah, and we took shelter in that old shed.” He smirked at you and whispered something in your ear that made you smack his chest and push him away. He laughs and pulls you in again. Fingers trace every detail of his face. “How long will you stay?” He pauses for a moment before replying. “I'm here for another week.” Your thumb brushes over his lips. “Do you miss me?” He smiles lightly and brushes his hands over your hair. “Everyday.”
The week passes by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it you were holding onto him tightly for the last time 'till you see him again. “I'm going to be back again, soon. Okay?” He brushes away your tears. He hated this, hated leaving you here alone. “I don't want you to go. The house is going to be empty again.” You sniff, nose and eyes all puffy from crying. His own face saddened and he didn't know what he could say to make you feel otherwise. “I will write to you everyday,” he said cupping your face. “So much that you're going to get tired of my letters.” You smile through your tears. “You always say that and then you don't write back for days. I'm starting to think you have a new wife over there or something.” You pout and push him playfully, he chuckles at that. “Now that you mention it, my 'new wife' does hold me back from writing you back.” “Caleeb~” you groan. He laughs and pinches your cheek. “I will call as well, when I get the chance okay? Be a good girl and keep waiting for me,” he said kissing your forehead.
“Are you sure it's his?” Tara asks her friend who hands her a medical report. “Positive.” “Does he know?” She looks at at the report and then at her friend. Concern written on her face. “No.” “Aren't you going to tell him?” “Not now. I will, when the time is right.” Tara gives her back the report. “I-” she starts but doesn't say it. “I know what you're going to say. That he's married. To her,” she says. “She's sick. She's been for a while now.” “I know,” she puts a hand on her lower stomach. “That's why I'm going to wait for now.”
