caleb who hates seeing you in pain but also absolutely loving taking care of you when you’re on your period.
he loves how dependent you become on him, always asking him for food or tea or just for him to be your personal heater.
he massages your stomach without asking, eyes locked onto your face. he’s only focused on you as he makes sure he’s not being too rough and he’s happy when he hears you let out a content sigh.
you barely feel like doing anything yourself and he’s more than happy to do everything for you.
you’re snuggled up against him in bed with your eyes closed as he strokes your side softly.
you feel him shuffle a bit before he begins to get up and you let out a whine in disapproval.
“aww, my poor widdle apple doesn’t want her caleb to get up?” he teases.
you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but you shake your head anyways.
he coos at your shyness, completely enamored with how you’re clinging to him. he kisses your forehead softly and wraps his arms around you even tighter.
“don’t worry, pretty girl. your caleb will stay riiight here next to you. always.”
So one of my ideas is that reader works at Destiny Cafe
-MC stumbles upon Destiny Cafe when roaming Linkon City while she’s in her first year at the Hunters Academy (I’m pretty sure it’s like the equivalent to college so I’m assuming she’s there for 4 years)
-MC becomes a regular at Destiny Cafe and so she often sees reader and they make small talk
-MC sees reader on their day off and whatever it is that reader is doing sparks interest in MC
-MC becomes determined to befriend reader and often comes to the cafe just to talk with reader
-MC and reader become friends and exchange phone numbers and begin to text and also hang out outside of reader’s work hours
-MC and reader form a deep bond
-MC purposely doesn’t tell Caleb about reader
-MC doesn’t realize it fully at first but she’s somewhat possessive over reader because like reader is her best friend/favorite person
-MC graduates from the Hunters Academy and begins working at the Hunters Association
-The main story has begun so she meets Xavier and reunites with Zayne and also meets Rafayel
-She doesn’t take them to Destiny Cafe since that’s her special place where reader is
-Xavier “just so happens” to stumble upon Destiny Cafe and sees MC there (totally didn’t secretly follow MC because she would randomly be busy and disappear from where Xavier knew she usually went)
-Zayne actually finds Destiny Cafe normally. He had been looking for a cafe with good desserts and has been going to Destiny Cafe occasionally but just hadn’t bumped into MC there before
-Rafayel like Xavier pretends it’s just a total coincidence that he bumped into MC at Destiny Cafe
-Xavier and Rafayel are definitely jealous when MC pays more attention to reader than them
-Zayne is a bit disappointed but is happy to see that MC has a close friend
-MC gets pouty when reader pays attention to the boys instead of her (reader is literally just doing their job
-Insert stuff about developing relationships between everyone
-Drama about Caleb’s death
-Also insert Sylus showing up at the cafe once him and MC are friends
Notes: Genuinely forgot I’d posted this series here too lmao, I was running on fumes last night. So here you go.
Taglist: @kingraspberry12-blog
When your best friend introduced you to her new boyfriend, you weren’t quite expecting to see the chairman of your company on her arm.
Chairman Ao was an enigma, even among your own colleagues. Supposedly that charming redhead held a much more rugged side to him than he let on at work… and that was what MC was telling you too, as you uncomfortably sat across from her over a bag of takeout and some drinks.
You and MC had been very close since grade school. Even after she went into training to be a Hunter and you stayed behind, you maintained contact. You originally went into the field of protocore R&D because of her illness; the last thing you wanted was for her life to be cut short because of something there was no present cure for.
Chairman Ao - or Valko, as she introduced him - was far, far different from the man you’d only caught glimpses of at work. Where before you saw him as charming and ultimately aloof, with MC he was vibrant, smiling bright and making jokes. He always seemed to have a hand somewhere on her, whether it was resting on her waist or having her sitting on his leg. She didn’t seem too bothered about this, and from what she told you in private, it was kind of thrilling.
“He’s a real wolf,” she joked once, chuckling when you looked at her in incredulous confusion.
Sure, he was talkative and a little clingy, but a wolf? You laughed it off with her, although you had to admit that him getting close to you and covertly sniffing the back of your neck whenever you visited was a little… out there. No, you were way past out there. You were practically out somewhere.
Still, despite your initial confusion (and skepticism about his change in demeanor), you found that he was… growing on you. The sniffing thing still had some getting used to, but he was kind enough to you and laughed along with you whenever MC told stories from your childhood. He genuinely seemed like a nice guy, and you could tell easily how he felt about her just from the way he looked at her while she wasn’t looking.
It twisted your guts. At first, you thought it was indigestion. But then you slowly realized that it only started to churn in the sick way it did whenever you were out with MC and Valko.
You were jealous. Of who? You still weren’t quite sure. But you did know one thing. You wanted him. And it terrified you.
He was everything you could’ve wanted. Funny, smart (almost to a fault), kind, daring - not to mention even colleagues had nothing but glowing praise for him. The fact that he also happened to be an Evolver - and one with such a useful Evol - was a plus. You’d seen the jewelry he made for MC. She always showed them off to you with a gleeful “Look at what he made for me! I asked him to make one for you too, so now we match!”
And they truly were beautiful. Rings made of interwoven vines, with intricate metal leaves and inlaid with moonstone - all made for her alone. That man was a certified genius, and it sickened you with how much you found yourself dreaming of having him.
Slowly, you began distancing yourself from them. As much as it killed you inside to ignore one of your oldest friends, it was for your own good, or so you told yourself; the very last thing you wanted was to irrevocably break your friendship over a man, let alone a man who was your superior. MC deserved to be happy, even if it meant you cropped yourself out of the photo.
MC… was confused and hurt by your sudden distance. If she’d done something wrong, she had no idea what it was. You’d seemed so happy for her and so supportive of her relationship, not to mention you and Valko got on great. If it wasn’t her… was it him? And if it wasn’t him… what was it?
It was killing her. She loved him, yes, but she loved you too. She just couldn’t stand the thought of not having you by her side.
And Valko was a little suspicious. You weren’t any enemy of either of them - you smelled like a friend, and he had heard great things about you from your bosses and coworkers. MC had nothing but glowing praise to say about you. So what had changed?
First he assumed you must be blackmailed to stay away from them; both he and MC had a lot of enemies, and it was understandable that you might isolate yourself for your and their safety. But you had no such blackmailers or anyone on your tail, not anyone to be worried about. Then he wondered. Was it them? He honestly hoped it wasn’t - you made each other happy, and he was beginning to warm up to you outside of his relationship with her.
—————
It all came to a head one night after work.
You had gotten home an hour before, exhausted and needing a shower and comfort food. You were barely five minutes into one of your favorite game shows when the doorbell rang.
You frowned. You weren’t expecting anyone. You got up and answered it anyway—
—and just about had a heart attack when MC and Valko stood in your doorway, the former looking worried.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed, pulling you in for a hug, uncaring of the fact that you were in sweats and a tank top. “Can we come in? I know it’s late, but we need to talk.”
“Uh, y- yeah… just… can I change first?” You squeaked.
She looked at you a little strangely, until she realized you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Uh… if you want,” she answered unsurely.
You nodded, let them in, and scurried off to your bedroom to tug on a sweater. By the time you came back, they were both sitting on your couch murmuring about something. The volume on the TV had been turned down, some commercial filling the room with a colorful glow.
MC’s head snapped up the second she heard you enter the living room. “Sit,” she commanded, gesturing to the spot beside her.
You complied slowly. “Is this an intervention…?” You tried to joke. Their expressions told you that it wasn’t much of a joke.
“Alright, spill,” she ordered, folding her arms across her chest. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?”
“Wha— no, no,” you protested, raising your arms in a placating gesture. “MC, no, you know I’d tell you if you made me mad.”
“Then what’s the deal?” Her voice raised. “If it isn’t me that’s the problem, then I can only guess it’s my boyfriend. I thought we agreed boys would never come between us!”
You heaved a sigh. This really wasn’t a conversation you wanted to be stone-cold sober for. “Look— MC, it’s… not what you think.”
You hesitated, but Valko was already looking at you over her head and you swallowed hard, finally getting the nerve to say it. “I… I like him. Your boyfriend. And I’ve been feeling so shitty about it because you deserve to be happy with someone who loves you as much as he does, and the last thing I want to do is ruin our friendship because I’m jealous.”
In the silence that followed, MC blinked almost owlishly at you.
“You… you’re jealous.” She stated more than asked. “Of… me? Of him?”
“I’m jealous that you found someone like him,” you answered, pointing at the redhead. And then you looked down at your feet. “... And I’m jealous that he’s got you.”
“You’re my best friend, MC. You’ve known me longer than anyone else. And I… I got scared. I got scared that you wouldn’t need me anymore.” Your fingers clenched in your sweatpants. “So I… just decided to end things myself. I’m sorry for not telling you, but… I didn’t want you to blame yourself for my feelings.”
You didn’t say anything more, and your words hung heavy in the air with the TV muted.
MC stared at you.
And then she breathed out a disbelieving laugh.
“You… you seriously…” she shook her head. “You were jealous. Because you liked my boyfriend?”
Your face flooded with heat and you glared at her. “It’s not funny, MC.”
“No, it’s not. It’s hilarious.” She corrected, pulling you in for a tight hug.
“I never cared that you liked my boyfriend, dummy. In fact… we’ve been talking lately.” She pulled back to look you in the eyes. “We both want you. And if you’ll have us…”
“Wait. Wait. What?” You interrupted, narrowing your eyes at her. “You know I don’t like pranks, M. What do you mean, ‘we both want you’?”
“What else would that mean?” She exasperatedly demanded. “I’m in love with you, Valko likes you, there you go!”
Now it was your turn to stare at her like a deer caught in headlights. “But… he’s literally perfect…?”
Valko chuckled. “Aw, babe, she thinks I’m perfect?”
“Don’t add to his ego,” she halfheartedly groaned.
Now Valko was moving, pulling you into MC’s lap so that he could nose around your neck with a drawn-out sigh. “You smell good,” he murmured into your skin, tickling you.
“Does… does he always…?”
“Yes,” she finished. “Just let it happen.”
You tried not to squirm as he sniffed around, but soon you began to giggle. And hearing your laugh made him grin and sniff a little harder.
“Already makin’ you laugh. Big ups for me.” He stated, giving MC a smirk.
She rolled her eyes. “She was mine first, wolf-brain. I’m the one who kissed her first.”
You choked on your own saliva.
He snorted. “And? Just means I’ve gotta make my first kiss just as memorable.”
His long fingers grasped your chin, and you swore you could see wolf ears peeking through his hair. His eyes seemed to glow even in the dim light of your living room, and you couldn’t help but squeak in surprise as his lips met yours.
They were surprisingly soft - and they tasted like chocolate? And were those fangs you felt, poking between his lips?
By the time you broke apart, MC had resigned herself to playing with your hair.
“Well?” He breathed. “Was that memorable?”
You nodded frantically, making both of them laugh.
“If you’ll have us, we really want to have you,” MC repeated, giving you a pleading look. “No more running. No more miscommunications.”
You hesitated. But then you felt Valko’s hand rest on your knee, and MC’s hand on your back, and your face burned.
“If… if you’re serious about it,” you capitulated.
MC beamed at you, and the weight in your chest seemed to lift somewhat.
“We’re sleeping over, then.” She decided.
“Whuh- uh, what?” You spluttered. “Does—?does he even have—?”
The two of them shared a look. You decided you didn’t know if you liked it or disliked it.
“Your bed’s big enough for three.” MC reasoned.
“But— uh, okay.” You shook your head with a fond little smile as MC pulled you in for a peck.
Thinking about non mc reader who had fallen in love with the Li's in their past lives but it never worked out because each and every one of them practically could not live without mc so mc is heartbroken over and over again until she becomes a bitter and love hating women only to have some random and aggressively average guy fall deeply in love with her and start to passionately pursue non mc reader and before anyone realizes what happend the bitter women they thought they had known is married to some random guy non of them had ever meet. Even worse non of them were invited to the wedding and only realized reader was married when she offhandedly mentions her husband and everyone is just like "what husband??" And the Li's are shocked to see her husband whose just some average joe. Which is even funnier to think about because at some point in non mc readers past lives she was some sort of a powerfull goddess and even in this life she still has that powerfull aura. To this day no one knows how he pulled the reader not even he himself.
3rd Drawing I did of Valko to hopefully bring him back. #bringbackvalko #justiceforvalko
Remember, no game is worth your mental health. If you need to take a break, focus on yourself. Whatever you choose to do, whether to install the game and boycott or continue playing it, that doesn't make you a bad player/fan
Hey hey, it’s ya girl, fourr, and I’m feeling pretty alright finally. Kinda.. Cough is kicking my ass.
Anyway, I found a funny base(?) that’s so Valko coded, so I’m gonna do that tonight 👍 It’s gonna be just a silly stupid thing, but I think we all need silly and stupid right now :)
Since I’m in a talkitive mood, what do you guys think Valko’s pokemon team would look like? I feel like he’d for sure have Lucario, because c’mon.. Anubis and steel type? Speaking of steel type, he’d totally be a steel mono-trainer no? I think so. Or mostly steel at least. Gotta add Lycanroc (any form, though midnight would look the best) in there at least.
***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.
notes. pt.2 of this | my baby valko doesn’t deserve the treatment he received :( i’m genuinely so fucking upset that even interacting with the fandom on red note makes me 🥹💔
you'd be laying down in bed, all comfortable under the covers, when you feel his presence before seeing him. it almost makes you jump, the way he's just hovering over you from the edge of the bed. he steps forward once, twice, before you realizes what happening.
"val- valko wait WAIT-" in his over six foot tall build of pure muscle, he flops right on top of you. he's way to big to be acting like he's a pup curling into your arms, but hey, how you've got a valko-shaped overweighted blanket keeping you warm.
it's even worse when you're both standing up. you'd be out buying groceries, roaming up and down the aisles, when you first notice the stares. is your shirt inside out? maybe you forgot to brush away the frizz in your hair? it's the whisper from concerned bystanders that make it click.
"...are they being followed?" "how intimidating..." "wolf following them around..."
ah. right.
right behind you, less than a foot at all times, valko trails behind like you've got a leash and collar on him. and maybe you do- but not in this scenario at least.
it's not that valko's got a resting bitch face, but rather, those wolf eyes of his can seem like they're piercing right through you. when in reality, he just forgot his glasses at home and is squinting to see if the snacks that you like are on the shelf.
and don't get me started on when he's got your legs thrown over his shoulders. sure, he's made sure to work you open by now— his hands, his tongue— but it always takes a deep breath and many, many orgasms before you're able to take him fully.
sometimes he's aware that he's big. valko likes to tease you about it too, "you can handle it, right baby?" "weren't you just beggin' me to fill you up?" "relax angel, gotta get you ready for my knot, yeah?"
and oh, his knot is a monstrous thing on its own. the first time you guys got intimate, he made sure to pull out right before. valko was worried about scaring you off, of making you uncomfortable or hurting you. but after plenty of reassurance, and lots of pets between his ears, he finally lays you down on your back, positioning himself into you.
once you've both reached you peak- valko always makes sure you come first, or at the very least times his climac with you, his lips finds yours, hungry and desperate and praising you for taking him so well.
his knot is, well huge, yes, but it fills you up just enough where the lines between pain and pleasure melt together. valko makes sure your comfortable, propping a pillow to your side, rubbing circles and stars onto your skin. it can take a while before his knot swells down, so he always makes sure to hold you close, whispering sweet everything's.
even when you feel his knot slips out of you, his size still towers yours as he carries you effortlessly into the bath. you've had to upgrade it when the two of you moved in together, just to accommodate his size.
but it makes it all worth while, when the heat of the water relaxes your muscles, and the warmth of him- his body, his tail, his arms, envelops you in a den of love and safety.
all right reserved to @myntrose on tumblr. do not copy, translate, repost, or claim my work as your own. the artwork on my blog does not belong to me, unless stated otherwise.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and instead of doom scrolling I ended up sketching Valko while watching his PVs. This is also the last page of my sketchbook.
It’s ridiculous but I feel like I’m genuinely mourning. I haven’t been this upset since Dragon Age Veilguard lol
Anyways, I’m still delulu about Infold posting on July 8th telling us he will come home the next day cause we all love him so much. 🐺🥺❤️
Setup: The Future Glimpse Phenomenon faded from Linkon City as quietly as it had arrived. Life continued. Hospitals remained full. Missions kept coming. Paint dried on fresh canvases. Deals were made behind closed doors. Ships departed beneath distant stars. Months became years. For most people, the phenomenon became another strange memory in Linkon’s long history. For five men, however, there were some futures time refused to bury.
Pairing: LADs x Non-MC! reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff (with a special guest)
Writer's note: I'm so sorry for the long wait, but due to the ongoing issues with the game, it was a perfect opportunity to complete this long-awaited fanfic tiny series. So I hope you all enjoy.
Taglist: @moonvale909, @cayrelyra, @thekingswin @kingraspberry12-blog @abbylee0710 @sailorstar9
Part 1
At first, Zayne told himself it was nothing more than neurological residue.
The mind, after all, could respond strangely to intense stimuli. The Compatibility Vision had overwhelmed several sensory pathways at once. Visual memory, emotional recall, phantom touch. It made sense that he still felt the absent pressure of a ring on his finger some mornings.
It made sense that he sometimes heard children laughing in the quiet of his apartment.
It made sense.
It had to.
Zayne stood in his office at Akso Hospital with the cream-coloured envelope in his hand, reading your name beside another man’s.
...
The first fracture came with a wedding invitation.
Zayne received it during a quiet morning between surgeries, when the hospital corridors still smelled faintly of antiseptic and rain. His phone lit up beside a stack of post-operative reports, and for a brief moment, he expected it to be another consultation request.
Then he saw your name.
His thumb stilled.
Cream and gold filled the screen. Your wedding invitation.
For several seconds, he did nothing.
He simply stared at it, expression calm, posture composed, eyes unreadable behind his glasses.
...
Anyone passing by his office would have seen Dr Zayne, Chief Cardiac Surgeon, seated with his usual restraint.
No one would have known that something inside him had gone painfully still.
You were getting married.
Not someday. Not eventually. Not in some distant future he could pretend would never arrive.
Soon.
To someone else.
His first thought was not fair.
His second was worse.
That should have been me.
The thought cut so deeply that he closed his eyes, guilt tightening through his chest. He had no right to think that. No right to feel
wounded by a happiness he had never tried to claim.
He had seen MC first.
He had been pleased with that vision. Quietly pleased, even.
It had been soft, predictable, comforting. A life that made sense. A life everyone expected of him.
And then came the second vision.
You.
Snow.
A townhouse wrapped in winter light.
A silver ring on your hand.
Children laughing inside a home that had felt warmer than anything he had ever allowed himself to want.
He had stood beneath the arch afterwards, stunned and silent, while you smiled like someone gently closing a door.
Now that door had a date.
...
On the day of the wedding, Zayne arrived with MC beside him.
She looked pleased. Softly satisfied. Her hand rested in the crook of his arm, her smile gentle enough for anyone watching, but Zayne knew the slight lift at the corner of her mouth. She had always been good at looking kind while claiming victory.
“You’re quiet,” she murmured.
“I’m thinking.”
“About her?”
Zayne did not answer quickly enough.
MC’s fingers tightened on his sleeve.
“It’s a beautiful day for her,” she said, voice sweet. “She found someone who chose her properly.”
The words were soft.
The cut was not.
...
Then the music began.
You appeared at the end of the aisle, and Zayne forgot how to breathe.
You looked older than the girl who had once stood beside him beneath the Vision Arch. Not by much, but enough for time to have softened you into yourself. There was confidence in your shoulders now. Peace in your smile. The shy ache that used to hide behind your eyes had been replaced by something warm and settled.
He had never seen you like this.
Radiant.
Steady.
Walking towards your soon-to-husband
Valko
He was tall, bright-eyed, and almost offensively alive. His smile broke across his face before he could restrain it, too honest, too boyish, too full of joy. Time had not sharpened him. It had warmed him. There were faint laugh lines near his eyes, the kind earned by years of grinning at things no one else found funny. His once-wild energy had matured into something steadier, but not tamer.
...
When you reached him, Valko whispered something that made you laugh.
Something in Zayne folded in on itself.
He remembered the vision.
His older self standing outside that townhouse, dark hair touched with subtle silver. Your eyes softened by years. Children calling him Dad and Daddy. Your hand reaching for his as snow fell around you both.
But the ring on your finger now was not his.
The man holding your hand was not him.
Zayne made himself watch.
He watched you say your vows.
Watched Valko laugh softly when your voice trembled.
Watched him lift your hand and kiss your knuckles with a tenderness Zayne had once been too afraid to name.
Now he watched Valko slide a silver band onto your finger.
Zayne’s own hand curled at his side.
There it was again.
The phantom weight.
Cold. Cruel. Impossible.
...
He smiled when you looked at him after the ceremony. He congratulated you. His voice was even. His posture perfect.
“I’m happy for you,” he said.
And he meant it.
For one irrational second, the future returned in pieces.
Snow falling outside a townhouse.
Your hand cradling a baby.
A small boy running past the glass door.
A little girl laughing, calling him Daddy.
His children.
No.
Not his.
Never his.
...
Greyson’s voice softened. “Doctor Zayne?”
Zayne looked down at the chart and realised he had written the same word twice.
“I’m fine,” he said.
He was not.
...
That night, alone in his apartment, he sat at the edge of his bed and pressed his thumb against his bare ring finger until the skin reddened.
A part of him died quietly there.
Not dramatically. Not all at once.
Just a small, private death.
The kind no monitor could detect.
Then he buried it.
...
When your daughter was born, her name was Lumi.
Valko sent a photo in the group chat, his grin bright and helpless as he held the tiny newborn against his chest. You were beside him in the hospital bed, exhausted and glowing, your fingers curled around Valko’s wrist.
Zayne stared at the picture longer than he should have.
Lumi had your softness around the eyes and Valko’s bright, mischievous gaze.
She was beautiful.
She was not his.
Another small, waiting part of him died once again.
Years later, you invited him and MC for a holiday gathering.
Your home was warm.
Too warm.
Zayne arrived with MC at his side, carrying a carefully wrapped gift for Lumi and your younger son, Hunter. Snow fell lightly outside, softening the modern townhouse framed by climbing ivy.
There were garlands across the doorway, tiny shoes by the entrance, children’s drawings on the wall. Valko opened the door with a baby balanced against his hip, grinning like mischief had learned how to wear a wedding ring.
...
“Doctor Zayne! Come in before she accuses me of scaring away guests again.”
You appeared behind him, laughing.
And for one impossible second, Zayne forgot how to breathe.
It was the vision.
Not exactly.
Worse.
...
The townhouse. The winter light. The sound of children running through the hall.
A little boy, Hunter, darted past him, chasing a giggling girl, Lumi, with soft curls. A baby, Milo, reached for Valko’s collar, babbling happily as Valkokissed his tiny fingers.
“Daddy, she took my snowman biscuit!” Hunter complied adorably.
“Because you left it unattended, rookie mistake,” Valko said solemnly.
You swatted his arm. “Do not teach our children theft strategy.”
“But look how advanced they are.”
The children laughed.
Zayne smiled.
He smiled because he had to.
He smiled while the life he had once glimpsed unfolded in front of him with another man standing in his place.
The ring on your finger caught the light when you reached for Valko’s hand.
Zayne stopped breathing.
...
The vision overlaid itself onto the present.
In his memory, it had been him standing there. His hand reaching for yours. His children calling for him. His ring beside yours in the morning light.
But reality was colder.
Valko reached for you instead.
You passed him a mug, and he bent to kiss your temple without thinking, as naturally as breathing.
You smiled.
That smile.
Older now. Softer. Full of years shared and trusted.
Zayne felt the phantom pressure of a ring around his bare finger.
MC said something beside him, but he did not hear it.
All he could hear was Lumi calling, “Papa, help me hide!”
Valko laughed and knelt, letting both children tumble into his arms.
...
Zayne watched from across the room.
A spectator.
A guest.
A family friend.
The life he had seen was happening in front of him, almost detail for detail.
Only he had been removed from it.
Later, after the gathering ended, Zayne returned home alone. MC had gone ahead after an argument too quiet for anyone else to notice.
He took off his coat.
Hung it neatly.
Washed his hands.
Then stood in the silence of his house until the restraint finally cracked.
His hand pressed over his mouth.
His shoulders shook once.
Then again.
No sound came out.
...
Zayne had spent his life learning how to steady his pulse, how to control panic, how to keep his hands calm while holding another person’s heart.
But there, alone in the dark, he could not control his own.
Because the life he had searched for without ever admitting it had existed.
It had been real.
It had simply belonged to Valko.
And he had been too much of a coward to reach for it when it still had his name.
Xavier learned about your wedding from Tara.
She said it gently, as if softness could make the words less cruel.
“You got the invitation too, right?”
He looked down at the card in his hand.
Your name.
With someone else’s name.
A date.
A promise.
“Yes,” Xavier said.
His voice was quiet.
...
He attended with MC beside him, both of them dressed in pale colours beneath a canopy of flowers and light. MC talked easily with the other guests, glowing in that effortless way people always noticed.
Xavier noticed you.
You were smiling before the ceremony even began, nervous and radiant, fingers curled around your bouquet.
Valko was waiting for you with a nervous grin he tried and failed to hide. He shifted on his feet, then laughed at himself when the officiant gave him a look. The guests chuckled.
You laughed too.
...
Xavier’s chest tightened.
He remembered a different garden.
Sunlight.
A little girl with platinum-blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes clutching his sleeve.
A baby boy with your soft curls and his eyes clapping under a warm sky.
Aurora and Lucien.
Names gifted by a vision and stolen by reality.
When Valko took your hands, Xavier felt the stars shift out of reach.
MC leaned closer. “It’s sweet, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Xavier said softly.
And it was.
That was the cruelest part.
It was sweet.
...
Valko loved you openly, with no hesitation, no ancient sorrow held between his teeth, no endless waiting dressed up as patience. His joy was obvious. Almost boyish. Almost annoying.
Xavier envied him for it.
He envied the courage of being obvious.
When you said your vows, your voice trembled.
Valko whispered something that made you laugh through the tears.
The crowd softened.
Xavier smiled too.
When the officiant declared you married, the room erupted.
Xavier clapped with everyone else.
His palms felt numb.
...
Later, when you hugged him, you whispered, “I’m glad you came.”
He smiled gently.
“I am too.”
It was not a lie.
That made it worse, as inside, something dimmed.
When he heard you were expecting your first child, he was on a late patrol.
Jeremiah mentioned it while checking equipment.
“Did you hear? She and Valko are having a baby.”
Xavier looked up.
For one foolish heartbeat, he saw the baby from the vision.
Lucien.
Tiny hands. His eyes. Your curls.
Then reality returned.
...
“Oh,” he said. “That’s good.”
Jeremiah watched him carefully.
Xavier adjusted his gloves.
“That’s really good.”
Later in the day, he went and visited you and Valko. He congratulated you with the same soft sincerity he always carried. He brought carefully chosen gifts, star-patterned blankets, and small glowing mobiles for the nursery.
Valko teased him mercilessly.
“Trying to make my baby a sky nerd before birth?”
Xavier chuckled.
“Consider it an early education.”
You laughed.
The sound warmed the room.
Then hollowed him afterwards.
...
He completed the patrol with perfect focus. He returned his reports on time. He even answered MC’s messages with his usual gentleness.
Then, much later, he sat alone beneath the pale glow of his room and stared at his hands.
He wondered if there was a version of himself somewhere who had not hesitated.
A version who had said your name before you let go.
A version whose child had been real.
Because once, in another possible life, that nursery might have been his to prepare.
When your daughter Lumi was born, Xavier visited with a gift wrapped in silver paper. Valko opened the door looking sleepless, delighted, and utterly ruined in the way new fathers often were.
“She’s tiny,” Valko whispered, as if announcing a miracle.
You were asleep when Xavier first saw the baby.
Lumi rested against Valko’s chest, one tiny fist curled into his shirt.
Valko looked down at her with such fierce, melting warmth that Xavier had to look away.
That was the second death.
Not jealousy alone.
The realisation that Valko had become the kind of father Xavier had only seen in a vision.
Years later, he visited your home during a summer evening celebration.
Xavier almost did not go.
MC insisted.
“You’ve been distant enough,” she said lightly, though there was an edge beneath it.
So he went.
...
The moment he stepped into your garden, his breath caught.
The garden was lit with tiny lanterns.
Children ran barefoot across the grass, chasing floating lights Valko had rigged purely to make them squeal.
...
Lumi ran across the grass, pointing at the early evening sky.
“Daddy, look! The stars are waking up!”
Xavier froze.
The world shifted beneath him.
Not with Evol.
Not with danger.
With memory.
That line.
That exact breathless joy.
Only this time, she was not holding his sleeve.
She was tugging Valko’s hand.
...
Valko scooped her up dramatically. “Stars? Already? Without my permission?”
She giggled and pressed both hands to his cheeks.
You stood nearby with your younger child, Milo, on your hip, smiling at them as your wedding ring glimmered beneath the garden lights.
Xavier watched from the edge of the patio.
A spectator.
A distant star.
The future had not disappeared.
It had simply moved beyond him.
That night, after he and MC returned home, he stood alone by the window.
The city lights blurred.
He touched his bare ring finger.
For years, he had told himself the vision was only a possibility. Something kind. Something impossible.
But the universe had not lied.
It had shown him happiness.
Then waited until he was too late to recognise it.
...
His grief arrived quietly, like moonlight through glass.
No sound.
No collapse.
He did not cry loudly.
...
He simply lowered himself to the floor, back against the wall, and covered his eyes with one hand.
The grief overcame him quietly.
Like nightfall.
He had spent lifetimes waiting for fate.
But fate had opened one door he had been too afraid to walk through.
Now he could only watch its light from outside.
Rafayel almost did not attend the wedding.
Not because he did not want to see you happy.
That was the problem.
He wanted to see you happy too much.
MC chose his suit, fussing over the collar with a smile.
“You look like you’re going to your own funeral,” she teased.
Rafayel laughed.
It sounded convincing.
“It’s a wedding. Same thing, depending on the couple.”
...
Rafayel hated how beautiful your wedding was.
That was the first thought he had, and it made him feel monstrous.
The colours were perfect.
Soft ivory. Warm gold. Hints of sea-glass blue in the decorations. Light spilled through the venue like paint diluted with sunlight.
It was the kind of scene he would have wanted to capture.
If it had not been killing him.
MC stood beside him, commenting on the floral arrangement with a pleased smile.
Rafayel barely heard her.
He was watching Valko.
The man looked infuriatingly alive. Restless, playful, grinning at guests one second and blinking too quickly the next as if trying not to cry before you even reached him.
But when he saw you, the joke dissolved.
You were beautiful in a way that made colour feel insufficient.
Valko stood at the altar, rocking slightly on his heels, trying and failing to look composed. The moment you appeared, his face changed completely.
Not into awe.
Into recognition.
As if some restless part of him had finally found where it belonged.
Rafayel hated how much he understood that expression.
...
Rafayel’s hand tightened around his programme.
He remembered another studio.
A future painted in warmth.
A little girl with purple hair holding up a sketchbook.
A toddler with paint on his fingers.
Serina and Arien.
Your wedding band catching the afternoon glow while you laughed with a brush tucked behind your ear.
That vision had felt like art made flesh.
Now he watched you walk towards a different canvas.
...
During the vows, Valko’s voice broke halfway through a joke.
You cried.
He cried worse.
The guests laughed softly.
Rafayel smiled with them, one hand tucked into his pocket so no one would see his fingers trembling.
...
At the reception, you asked him to take a photo with you.
“Come on, Raf,” you said warmly. “You’re not escaping.”
He laughed because he knew how to perform happiness.
“Me? Escape attention? Never.”
Valko slipped an arm around your waist for the photo. You leaned into him with ease.
The camera flashed.
Rafayel smiled.
A masterpiece of a lie.
When news of your pregnancy reached him, he was in his studio.
Thomas said it casually, flipping through exhibition schedules.
“By the way, she and Valko are expecting. You should send something nice.”
Rafayel’s brush fell from his hand.
A smear of blue ruined the canvas.
Thomas stopped talking.
Rafayel stared at the colour bleeding across the half-finished painting.
Blue like the sky in the vision.
Blue like the shadows in a home that had never been his.
“I will,” he said after a moment. “Of course I will.”
He sent a custom mobile for the nursery, all soft shapes and tiny painted stars.
...
You sent him a picture of Valko trying to hang it, standing on a chair while you scolded him for nearly falling.
Rafayel laughed at the photo.
Then he sat on the studio floor and cried so quietly even the canvas seemed to look away.
When Lumi was born, you sent him a picture of her.
Her tiny hand wrapped around Valko’s finger.
...
Rafayel stared at the image until the screen dimmed.
Then he opened a blank canvas.
For three hours, he painted nothing.
Years later, you commissioned him for a family portrait.
“Only if you’re comfortable,” you said gently.
He smiled too quickly.
“Comfortable? Please. I was born for this level of artistic suffering.”
You laughed.
Valko leaned into frame behind you. “Should I wear something dramatic? Maybe a cape?”
“No,” you said immediately.
“Cruel woman.”
...
Rafayel watched you both bicker with a kind of tenderness that made his ribs ache.
When you arrived at his studio with Valko and the children, Rafayel felt the world tilt.
The same golden light poured through the windows.
The same scent of paint and lavender settled in the air.
Lumi ran in first, clutching a sketchbook almost too big for her small hands.
“Uncle Raf! I drew you!”
...
His brush slipped.
For one second, he was back in the vision.
Papa, I drew you.
That was what the child in the vision had said.
Only now the child was yours and Valko’s.
Not his.
Only the word had changed.
Not Papa.
Uncle.
The smallest alteration.
The cruelest one.
He crouched and accepted the drawing with a flourish.
“A masterpiece. I’m clearly outmatched.”
The child beamed.
Hunter toddled behind her, fingers already smudged with marker despite your best efforts. Valko followed with a laugh, older now, broader in presence, softer in expression. Time had touched him beautifully. His grin still carried mischief, but fatherhood had warmed it into something protective. A few silver strands threaded through his hair, and his eyes held the tired brightness of a man who had spent years being loved loudly and loving louder in return.
Valko laughed as he stood beside you, holding Milo against his chest while you adjusted the baby’s collar, your wedding ring flashing under the studio lights.
...
Rafayel could barely breathe.
Rafayel looked at the four of you.
His throat tightened.
The composition was perfect.
That made him want to ruin it.
The vision returned with brutal clarity.
The studio walls filled with layered canvases. Your laughter across the room. Children’s hands covered in paint. His own older reflection, softened by time, watching a life he had never imagined he could deserve.
Except now he was behind the easel.
Watching.
Not living.
...
Valko crouched beside Lumi and whispered, “Make sure Uncle Raf gets my good side.”
Lumi giggled. “Daddy, you don’t have one.”
You laughed so hard you leaned against Valko’s shoulder.
Rafayel smiled.
Painted.
Captured the light.
Captured the love.
Captured the exact life the universe had once shown him, now rearranged around another man.
When the portrait was finished weeks later, you cried when you saw it.
Valko wrapped an arm around you and kissed your hair.
Rafayel watched his own hands tremble.
That night, after everyone left, he covered the portrait with a sheet and sat in the darkened studio.
Then the grief came.
Not elegantly.
Not poetically.
...
It came ugly and breathless, cracking through his chest until he bent over with his hands in his hair.
He had always believed beauty was something to chase.
But he had been given beauty once.
A living, breathing future.
And he had stood still until someone braver painted himself into it.
Sylus read the wedding invitation once.
Then twice.
Then set it on his desk like it had personally offended him.
Luke found it later.
“Oh,” he said.
Kieran peered over his shoulder. “Oh.”
Sylus looked up.
...
“Finish that thought and I’ll make sure both of you regret developing language.”
Neither twin said anything.
For once.
Sylus attended your wedding like a man attending a negotiation.
Calm.
Composed.
Untouchable.
At least, that was the performance.
...
He attended because not attending would have been cowardice, and Sylus had never tolerated cowardice in himself.
You looked surprised to see him.
That almost made him laugh.
As if he would miss the execution.
...
MC stood beside him, dressed beautifully, her smile sharp enough to suggest she noticed more than she said.
“You’re quiet,” she observed.
“Weddings are dull,” Sylus replied.
“They’re romantic.”
“That explains it.”
MC laughed, but Sylus did not.
His eyes were on Valko.
...
Valko was everything Sylus should have found irritating. Too bright. Too expressive. Too quick with his grin. The kind of man who turned solemn moments into something warm simply by refusing to let joy behave.
And yet, when Valko saw you, all that playfulness narrowed into devotion.
Pure.
Unhidden.
Dangerous in its honesty.
His grin softened. His shoulders dropped. His entire expression opened.
Sylus hated him then.
Not because Valko was cruel.
Because he was not.
Because the man looked at you with the exact warmth Sylus had once seen in himself inside the vision.
...
A courtyard of glass and steel.
A little girl with crimson eyes and silver hair.
A small boy toddling after her.
Raven and Ash.
Your ring catching sunlight as you held tea.
His hand finding yours with years of trust between you.
Sylus flexed his bare fingers.
Nothing.
No ring.
No future.
...
Sylus watched him take your hand.
Watched you relax.
Watched you trust him.
That was the first cut.
The vows were the second.
At the altar, Valko stumbled over one line of his vows.
You laughed softly.
He groaned, then pressed his forehead against your hand.
“Sorry, sorry. I had this planned. You’re just very distracting.”
The guests laughed.
You smiled at him as if he hung the moon badly but tried his best.
The ring was the third.
...
He had seen that same ring before.
In another life. Another courtyard. Another sunlight.
On your hand.
Beside his.
When Valko kissed you, the room cheered.
Sylus smiled.
Slow. Polished. Perfect.
Inside, something went very still as its coldness settle behind his ribs.
He could have given you the world.
Valko had given you sincerity.
Somehow, that was worse.
When he heard about the pregnancy, Luke and Kieran were arguing in the hallway about what gift to send.
“Boss, do babies like drones?”
“No,” Kieran said. “Babies like soft things.”
“Drones can be soft.”
Sylus stopped walking.
“What baby?”
Both twins froze.
Luke winced. “You didn’t hear?”
...
No.
He had not.
You were pregnant.
Sylus gave no reaction.
“Send something expensive,” he said.
Then he walked into his office, closed the door, and stood there with one hand braced against the desk.
The phantom ring returned.
Smooth. Cool. Cruel.
...
When his extravagant gift was sent.
It ended up too extravagant.
You called him immediately.
“Sylus, this is too much.”
“For a child? Hardly.”
“It’s a baby, not a royal heir.”
“Debatable.”
Valko’s voice called from the background, “Tell him I accept tribute on behalf of the tiny ruler.”
You laughed.
Sylus closed his eyes.
That laugh stayed with him for the rest of the night.
...
When Lumi was born, Valko sent a video.
He was holding her against his chest, whispering nonsense while she slept. His eyes were red with exhaustion, but his smile was unbearable.
“Look at her,” Valko whispered in the video. “She’s perfect. She’s so perfect.”
You laughed weakly from somewhere off-camera. “You’ve said that twenty times.”
“I’ll say it twenty more.”
...
Sylus closed the video.
Then opened it again.
Then hated himself for watching until the end.
Years later, you brought your family to an Onychinus event. It was formal enough to require appearances, informal enough for children to sneak biscuits from silver trays.
Your daughter spotted Mephisto first.
Her eyes widened.
“Daddy, bird!”
Valko crouched beside her. “That, my darling chaos gremlin, is a very dramatic bird.”
Mephisto cawed, offended.
Sylus should have laughed.
He almost did.
...
Then your son toddled after the crow, clapping.
“Win, win!”
The words hit like a blade.
Raven and Ash.
The courtyard.
The glass canopy.
A little girl with mischief in her eyes.
A toddler echoing laughter.
Only now, they were not his children.
They were Valko’s.
And you stood in the centre of it all, wearing a ring Sylus had once felt against his own hand in a future that had dared to feel real.
Valko looked at you over the children’s heads.
You smiled back.
No hesitation.
No fear.
No guarded distance.
...
Sylus understood then.
You had not settled.
You had chosen.
And worse, you had chosen well.
That night, long after the guests left, Sylus remained alone in his office.
The city glowed beneath him.
Power. Wealth. Influence.
All of it at his feet.
None of it enough.
He flexed his left hand.
The phantom ring returned.
...
This time, he did not curse.
Instead, he laughed.
Low. Bitter. Broken.
It turned into something else before he could stop it.
His head dropped back against the seat, eyes closed, breath uneven.
For once, there was no audience.
No twins.
No MC.
No empire of shadows to command.
...
Only him, alone with the truth.
Because he could not blame Valko.
Could not blame you.
Could not even blame fate.
...
He had seen happiness once and treated it like a threat.
Now it belonged to a man brave enough to make a fool of himself just to make you laugh.
Sylus leaned back in his chair, jaw tight, silence swallowing the room.
For the first time in years, control brought him no comfort.
Caleb kept your wedding invitation tucked inside his desk drawer for three days before replying.
He told himself it was because of scheduling.
Fleet duties.
Travel clearance.
Mission reports.
Anything but the truth.
...
When the day finally came, Skyhaven's skies were impossibly clear.
The ceremony overlooked the upper terraces, where clouds drifted lazily beneath floating platforms and sunlight washed the glass railings in pale gold.
Beautiful.
Of course it was.
You deserved beautiful.
MC stood beside him, quietly commenting on the decorations while guests filtered into their seats.
Caleb heard none of it.
His eyes stayed fixed on the altar.
On the man waiting there.
Valko.
Valko shifted his weight from one foot to the other every few seconds, running a nervous hand through his hair before immediately regretting it.
His tie sat slightly crooked.
He straightened it.
Then crooked it again.
Caleb almost smiled.
Then he watched Valko’s hands.
They were shaking.
Not from fear.
From anticipation.
From excitement.
From loving someone enough that even happiness became overwhelming.
...
The music began.
Everyone stood.
Then...
There you were.
Caleb had seen you in uniforms.
Covered in grease while repairing equipment.
Half asleep after long shifts.
Laughing over burnt coffee.
Smiling despite exhaustion.
He had never seen you like this.
Radiant.
Peaceful.
Walking towards someone who looked at you like you'd hung every star in the sky.
Valko’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
He laughed once under his breath, embarrassed by himself.
Then quietly wiped them away before you reached him.
When you finally stood before him, he whispered something only you could hear.
You burst into soft laughter.
The tension melted from both of you instantly.
...
Caleb looked away.
His chest hurt.
Not because the moment was grand.
Because it wasn't.
It was ordinary.
Comfortable.
The sort of quiet happiness built over years instead of destiny.
...
An open-air deck.
A pale-blue sky.
Children laughing somewhere nearby.
A silver ring catching the afternoon light.
Your hand reaching for his.
Skie.
Orion.
Lyra.
The names echoed through his memory.
Then reality pulled him back.
The officiant smiled.
"You may kiss your bride."
Valko stepped forward.
You met him halfway.
The applause drowned out everything else.
Caleb clapped too.
His hands felt strangely heavy.
Months later, Gideon found him in their usual coffee shop.
The same one overlooking Skyhaven where, years ago, he'd laughed and convinced Caleb to try the Compatibility Vision with you.
The same table.
The same window.
The same city.
Only neither of them were the same people anymore.
Gideon stirred his coffee absentmindedly.
"She called."
Caleb looked up.
"She's pregnant."
Silence.
The words settled between them like snowfall.
...
Gideon waited.
"Say something."
Caleb looked out the window.
The floating transports drifted lazily between the towers.
People hurried through their ordinary mornings.
Life continued.
"What is there to say?"
His voice sounded almost detached.
"...Congratulations."
That was what there was to say.
So that was what he said.
...
When Lumi was born, he visited.
MC had insisted they bring a gift.
A soft hand-knitted blanket.
Practical.
Warm.
The door opened before he knocked twice.
Valko stood there looking utterly exhausted.
Dark circles beneath his eyes.
Hair a complete mess.
Shirt buttoned incorrectly.
And smiling so brightly it almost hurt to look at him.
"Colonel!"
He beamed.
"Come witness my greatest mission failure."
Caleb blinked.
"...Failure?"
"I genuinely believed I was prepared."
He leaned conspiratorially closer.
"I was catastrophically wrong."
From somewhere inside the house, you laughed.
"You've been saying that for three days."
"Because I've been wrong for three days!"
...
You appeared in the living room, the baby sleeping peacefully against your chest.
Everything about you looked softer.
The way you smiled.
The way you held your child.
The way your husband, Valko, instinctively crossed the room the second he noticed the blanket slipping from your shoulder.
He tucked it back into place without interrupting the conversation.
Without thinking.
Without asking.
Just...
because he'd noticed.
Then the baby stirred.
Before you could even adjust your hold, he was already there.
"I've got her."
His voice dropped automatically.
Gentler.
Quieter.
Practised.
He lifted his daughter with impossible care, resting her against his shoulder.
She settled almost immediately.
"There we go, little moon..."
...
Caleb watched the entire exchange without speaking.
There was no performance.
No attempt to impress anyone.
This was simply who Valko had become.
A husband.
A father.
The life Caleb had once watched himself living.
Only someone else had grown into it.
When he finally left that afternoon, he sat inside his car for nearly twenty minutes.
He never started the engine.
Years passed.
The invitation this time was for the holidays.
Everyone was coming.
Friends.
Colleagues.
Family.
When Caleb stepped onto the upper terrace, his heart stopped.
Pale-blue sky.
Glass railings.
Open air.
Sunlight.
He knew this place.
Not exactly.
But enough.
...
The vision returned before anyone even spoke.
Then—
"Daddy!"
Lumi sprinted across the terrace.
Milo, her younger brother, chased after her.
"We're faster this time!"
Tiny footsteps followed behind them.
Kendra, just barely a toddler, clung to your leg, giggling between half-formed words.
...
Caleb couldn't breathe.
Not because the children looked like the ones from the vision.
They didn't.
Not really.
But...
The rhythm was identical.
The feeling.
The laughter.
The life.
His eyes found their father.
Valko.
...
Time had changed him gently.
The restless young man Caleb remembered from the wedding had become steadier now.
His hair had grown slightly longer, the first silver strands beginning to appear near his temples.
There were faint lines around his eyes.
The kind earned through laughter instead of hardship.
His smile was different too.
Still playful.
Still bright.
But grounded by years of bedtime stories, scraped knees, midnight fevers, school concerts, and tiny hands reaching for his without hesitation.
He caught Lumi before she collided with him.
"Got you."
She laughed so hard she nearly hiccupped.
"Again!"
"You're trying to wear your old man out."
"You said you have superpowers!"
"I may have exaggerated."
Hunter tugged on his sleeve.
"Daddy... up."
Without missing a beat, Valko lifted him too.
...
You appeared moments later wearing his oversized coat.
Your wedding ring caught the winter sunlight.
"You know," you teased, "they're going to expect aeroplane rides every single time."
"They already do."
"And whose fault is that?"
He looked at you.
Grinned.
"Yours."
You rolled your eyes.
Then, without thinking...
...you reached for his hand.
He met yours automatically.
Neither of you looked down.
Neither of you had to.
Years had taught your hands where to find each other.
...
Caleb felt the world tilt.
In the vision...
it had been his hand.
His coat.
His children.
His future.
Now he stood ten metres away.
Watching Valko live it.
Not as the husband.
Not as the father.
Not even as someone still waiting.
Just...
Uncle Caleb.
The title came moments later.
The little girl waved enthusiastically.
"Uncle Caleb! Come play!"
He smiled.
The lie came easily now.
"I'll be right there."
He stayed until evening.
Helped clean up.
Carried boxes.
Played with the children.
Congratulated you both.
Smiled for photographs.
Then he left.
...
His destination wasn't home.
It was the coffee shop.
The same coffee shop.
The same window.
The same seat Gideon had occupied years ago.
Caleb ordered a coffee.
He never touched it.
...
Outside, Skyhaven shimmered beneath the evening lights.
He remembered Gideon's laugh.
"What harm could one little vision do?"
Caleb had thought the phenomenon showed people what might happen.
He understood now.
It had shown him exactly what happiness looked like.
Just not who it would belong to.
The laughter had been real.
The children had been real.
The home had been real.
The love had been real.
Only his place within it had quietly disappeared.
For a man who had spent his life mastering gravity...
...he had never understood what it meant to truly fall.
...
His elbows rested on the table.
His clasped hands touched his forehead.
For the first time since that second vision...
Caleb stopped fighting it.
No soldiers.
No missions.
No MC.
No Gideon.
No one waiting for him to be strong.
Just a man mourning the family he had once held for a few fleeting moments beneath an impossible sky.
And for one quiet night...
He truly let himself grieve.
By the time each of them understood what they had lost, Non-MC was no longer waiting at the edge of their lives.
She was loved.
Chosen.
Held.
Valko had become the husband they had once seen themselves becoming, playful where they had been guarded, brave where they had hesitated, warm where they had kept their distance.
He did not inherit their future.
He built his own with her.
And that was what made it hurt the most.
Because the life they had once glimpsed had not been impossible.
It had only required courage.
By the time they found theirs, she had already given her heart to someone who had never made her wonder if she was worth choosing.
I was very strongly influenced by all these events of the last week, so that's what I'm trying to vent all the accumulated emotions through art. It's still in progress. Valko, we love you very much!
