#I’m not going to tag The Thing that happened at the end but if you know you know and I would LOVE to talk about it

[idiotgojo]

eye fucking satoru <3

tags; gojo x reader | fluff, suggestive (?) | jealous (?) insecure (?) reader

note; here's some comfort before the next chapter leak... gojo comeback 😩

"I'm not jealous, I'm just—" you waved your hands in frustration, unable to put words to match what you were feeling. That was all you could manage. Gojo, on the other hand immediately understood. He smirked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"You really don’t realize the effect you have on me, do you?"

And that was how you ended up on top straddling him, both of you still fully clothed. The heat of his body radiated through your thighs as you sat on top of him.

“What are we even doing? I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed,” you sighed, trying to lift yourself off his lap, though a part of you wasn’t entirely convinced.

"While my princess is mad at me? I'd rather die than let you sleep upset with me," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His hands tightened on your waist, keeping you locked in place, as his gaze softened just a little with a pout.

Suddenly, a wave of insecurity hit you out of nowhere. You were usually confident—quick-witted, and perfectly aware of your beauty. But something about the way that other woman had flirted with him earlier stirred doubts. She was a contrast of you—different hair, a niche style, a whole different vibe. Was Gojo craving something new? Was he tired of you?

Just as your mind began spiraling, his palm faintly tapped your thigh, bringing you back to the present. You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eyes, knowing if you did, you might just fall apart in front of him.

"Look at me," Gojo said softly, yet firmly, as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes remained fixed on your fidgety hands in your lap. But Gojo wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered,

"I dare you to look into my eyes and see what happens."

You hesitated, but curiosity, or maybe just him, got the best of you. Slowly, you met his gaze.

In seconds, you felt it—him hardening beneath you, unmistakable and sudden. You gasped, instinctively glancing down at his growing length pressing against the thin fabric of your clothes. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you blushed furiously.

Gojo chuckled, reaching up to grab your chin with one hand, tilting your head up to meet his eyes again. His other hand slid up your thigh, teasing.

"Now do you see the effect you have on me?" he asked, his voice loud with excitement, eyes locked on yours that sent a shiver down your spine. The corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smile as he waited for you to respond.

Words failed you, your brain fuzzy, buzzing with the intensity of the moment. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a searing kiss. His lips claimed yours, biting gently on your lower lip, eliciting a moan from you. The pressure of his body beneath yours, the friction as you rocked your hips against him—it all made your pulse race, drowning out every thought but him.

Both of you groaned softly into each other’s mouths, hands roaming feverishly. The heat between you was undeniable, and the tension finally snapped as you deepened the kiss, tongues tangling, breathing ragged and needy.

That night, Gojo didn’t just show you his desire—he made it clear that you were the only one he ever wanted. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word left no room for doubt. You were his one and only.

disclaimer (?); a lot of ??? in the whole post, which is probably because I'm not even a real writer. I just write for fun, a place to collect and keep my scenarios I create in my head before I go to bed lol. This is my first written piece! Enjoy :)

© idiotgojo 2024 do not steal or translate. if you wish to use the idea and create a better fic please tag me :)

[bullet-prooflove]

Feral: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @hangmanscoming @goldensunshine91

Companion piece to:

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

The Good & The Bad - Rip gives you every single piece of himself.

The Vet - Rip comes face to face with a nightmare.

The Train Station - Rip takes you to the train station.

Nightmares - Rip struggles in the aftermath of Gina's attack.

The thing you love about sleeping with Rip is the feel of his heated flesh against yours, the way he wraps himself around you, clasping you close. He buries his face into the curve of your shoulder, his beard rubbing against your bare skin as he tucks you into the shelter of his chest.

He’s been protective since the Becks, fierce and territorial. You know it’s a symptom of what happened to Gina, that he dreams about what would have happened if you hadn’t got the upper hand on Teal Beck.

“You need to stop being so feral.” You tell him, placing a delicate kiss to the tip of his nose.  He huffs his response into the hollow of your throat, his lips brushing over that sensitive spot, the one he knows sets every single one of your nerve endings ablaze. “I mean it, you’re going to drive yourself crazy…”

The conversation falls away then because he’s rolling you onto your back and hitching your thighs up around his hips. His hands pin your wrists to the mattress and he stares down at you with those dark heated eyes of his.

“I love you.” He says firmly. “And if people know that they’re less likely to fuck with you.”

“Baby.” You say softly. “I have no problem with people knowing I’m yours. I’d scream it from the rooftops if I thought that would make you happy but snarling at other people isn’t going to get you what you want.”

“And what is it you think I want?” He asks you, his head dipping low, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Security.” You say quietly. “Stability.”

Underneath it all, that is what this is all about because Rip has never had either of those things. His life has always been in a state of flux, the minute he stops being useful is the minute he’s displaced so he makes himself indispensable.

“And how do I get that?” He whispers, his mouth trailing lower, his rough beard dragging over your skin in the most sensuous way.

“You marry me.” You tell him as your hips arch up against his. “You say ‘Jen, I can’t imagine my life without you’ and then you put a ring on my finger.”

“Honey.” He says, his fingers entwining with yours as he presses you into the mattress. “I don’t have a ring but what I do have is a heart that beats only for you, now if you’d kindly oblige me by saying you’ll be my wife so I can ruin you in these sheets, I’d be mighty grateful.”

You laugh then and if it ain’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard he doesn’t know what is.

“Yes.” You say as he captures your mouth with his. “I’d love to be your wife.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 17 . Heterogeneity (2)

a/n: my body's crashing but midterms are ending soon so hopefully I'll be able to sleep

tags: implications of torture (squint really hard to see it), yandere-ish if you squint, Cale is unconscious again

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

_____ was walking down in the halls just outside Cale’s room. With nothing better to do after talking to Rosalyn, they decided to go out and help Pendrick heal injured soldiers outside. 

However, not 10 steps in and a certain red-haired man is shoving them back into the room they came from.

“What are you doing out? You should be lying down.”

Surprisingly enough, it’s Choi Han who spoke up and not Cale.

“Even if you heal fast there’s no way a wound that severe has fully closed up.”

The swordmaster had a look of disapproval on his face and _____’s poor heart just dropped. Never in their life had they seen Choi Han this disappointed with them.

“What did you even do yesterday? We still don’t know what happened.”

Cale tucked the healer in bed tightly as if they didn’t wake up just half an hour ago. _____ tried to get back up again but thought against it when they saw how the golden dragon was guarding the door with Choi Han guarding the end of the bed.

“I really don’t need to rest more, I swear my wound is almost healed.”

“Almost healed is different from fully healed. You will stay in this bed until we go back to the underground villa. I won’t take no for an answer.”

That shut _____ up.

However, the silence did not last long.

“Start explaining what the hell happened yesterday. Choi Han told you that you told him about how you discovered something.”

Cale sat at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, Eruhaben moved to sit on the couch with Choi Han taking over his place to stand at the door.

“Huh? Oh yes, it was also back when you guys went to Paerun Kingdom.”

The healer forgot for a moment about what they did yesterday. Mind too clouded by the things they talked about with Rosalyn earlier.

“My powers work like a transfer right? Oh right, Eruhaben-nim didn’t know, I’m sorry. So usually I would absorb someone’s wounds or whatever and then I would give and multiply my vitality right?”

Eruhaben started wondering how he got surrounded by so many unlucky people before his death. However, no one in the room knew about his thoughts.

“It got me wondering if I can do the opposite. You know, transfer and multiply my wound and then get their vitality or something along those lines.”

“Huuu”

Cale couldn’t help but sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You do know that this wasn’t what Ron meant when he told you to create something of your own, right?”

“It wasn’t? But isn’t it still a good idea.”

“_____-nim… that’s not…”

Choi Han started wondering why his serving two self-sacrificial young masters. Just like with the gold dragon, no one else knew about his thoughts.

“Yes, I know… Rosalyn-unnie already scolded me about it. I’m really sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“And what exactly are you sorry for?”

Cale’s gaze looked as though he was ready to get disappointed by whatever the healer was about to say.

“No really, I know what I did wrong this time. I’ll try not to put myself in danger next time. I’m really sorry for worrying everyone, I know I acted rashly.”

“Try?”

Eruhaben’s voice rang out for the first time since they got inside the room.

“I mean it’s a good ability… I was just unlucky this time because that half-dragon got away before I could steal some vitality… Plus, wouldn’t it be super helpful? Like imagine I have just a tiny cut but when I transfer it to the enemy it can become a lethal wound.”

While Cale is glad _____ is more lively and doesn’t act like a puppet anymore, he's not happy about this newfound stubbornness. Where did the healer even learn it from? But just like the other two men, no one else knew about his thoughts.

The commander doesn’t want to restrict the healer’s movements or freedom. Not only would it be annoying to have to constantly look after them, but it would be similar to how they used to live when they were with the Perduellios.

But at the same time, this discovery is dangerous when left alone.

“Haaa, you’ll only use that ability when it’s an emergency or when I allow you to. Unnecessarily use that power again and see if Beacrox will prepare any more desserts for you.”

Not Beacrox’s desserts, _____ loves those.

The crestfallen healer only nodded in agreement. But honestly, they don’t fully understand why everyone is acting as though they have no self-preservation. It’s not like they won’t heal. Did everyone miss the part when _____ said they can absorb another person’s vitality?

If there’s someone in their group who has no self-preservation it’s gotta be Cale, not them.

True to Cale’s words _____ didn’t get to help out in anything for the remaining time they were in Caro Kingdom. Every attempt of theirs would get shut down by everyone. The healer thought it would get better after they fully healed.

Yes and No

After resting for a bit in the super rock villa, _____ has been allowed to go back to their regular duties. However, Cale stuck the healer to him like glue. From war battles to stealthy operations to more battles. From the Caro Kingdom to the Roan Kingdom to the Western Continent to the Empire. No matter where Cale went _____ is with him. 

Well, not like _____ has a problem with it so they just let it be.

Plus they know that if they want, they can ask Cale anytime to leave them in Leeb-An City or the underground villa.

But they didn’t because just as it eases Cale’s mind to have the healer with him (not that he’d admit it), _____’s mind is also at ease whenever they are with Cale.

Or so it was.

If _____ hated Adin and the White Star before, they loathe them now.

"I-I don't understand, his body is completely fine. I have also replenished his energy however he won't wake up."

It’s been more than a week since the day Cale fainted. Yet he still showed no signs of waking up. To some extent, the healer could tell that the redhead’s body needed rest from overexerting.

But almost two weeks?

Who wouldn’t worry?

The only silver lining to all this is that it gave the Medicus some time to ponder about their feelings. Gave them time to think as to how they’d handle this garden called love whose flowers are blooming more and more in _____’s heart every day.

Ultimately they have decided to not do anything.

What _____ has concluded these days is that the form of love they want to give is support. For them that's what love is, supporting your loved ones even if he's unaware of their feelings. Being there whenever he needs them and expecting nothing in return.

And that’s exactly what the healer did.

They helped in any way they could. From healing the injured to helping with the paperwork. Sometimes Rosalyn and Raon had to remind _____ that they must rest, that they were overworking themself, and that the matters of the empire could wait until they got some rest.

_____ tries their best to listen. However, they would be seen doing the same thing again two days later.

“Cale seems to have like-minded people around him. Are you also not interested in a noble title?”

Alberu and  _____ are sitting across from each other. Both working on their own pile of paperwork.

“Under no circumstances was I ever interested in such things Your Highness. However more than that, I believe it would be unfair for our citizens if the Perduellio’s rise again when they got such a light sentence.”

The crown prince nodded in understanding. As someone who is always thinking about what’s best for the kingdom and its citizens, he could tell where the healer is coming from.

However, there’s a mistake in what _____ said.

A light sentence? That’s far from the truth.

Even thinking about what happened to that family sends a shiver down the quarter Dark Elf’s spine.

The official statement for what happened to the Perduellios is that the entire family have been stripped of their title and all their assets have been seized by the crown. As far as everyone knows they are now somewhere living as peasants.

But isn’t it weird that no one has seen them?

Cale has been… looking after them, for the lack of a better word. Alberu may not know the full story but he surely knows the extent of the young master’s anger.

He low-key wishes he could erase from his mind the condition of that cell and its inhabitants.

“However Medicus-nim, are you aware that you can’t live in hiding forever?”

Alberu pushes his other thoughts away. Why bother dwelling on them when only he, Cale, Tasha, and Beacrox know what happened? For now, he’ll focus on this paperwork and his conversation with the healer.

“Very much so your highness. I have lived my entire life hiding. What is a few years more?”

_____ paused for a second to take a second look at the document they are currently reading.

“However your Highness, the same thing cannot be said for you. This is prime time for you and the other Dark Elves.”

Alberu lets out a hearty laugh at that.

“Of course Medicus-nim. Yet you got one thing wrong. This is also a prime time for you. Worry not as I will surely allow you to live as Roan Kingdom’s Medicus once more. Consider it as my reward for putting up with a certain redhead.”

_____ tried to deny it. Tried to say that they did not need such things. Nonetheless, Alberu did not relent. He and Cale had already agreed that they would let this poor healer live out their life after being used like a tool since childhood.

Plus the blonde is seriously getting tired of Cale ranting about how suffocated _____ is having to wear a mask all the time even if they don’t complain.

"It's fine to be greedy sometimes you know? Sometimes it's all right to take whatever it is you want."

Alberu did not look at _____ as he spoke. Instead, he's looking at the unconscious commander on the luxurious bed.

_____, who understood what the crown prince meant, felt embarrassed. Their face turned into a light hue of pink as they thought of a retort.

However, Alberu did not let them do so. He simply motioned over to the healer with his glance before continuing the paperwork in his hands. _____ followed suit, and soon the room was filled with silence again, the only exceptions being the rustling of papers and their pens scribbling.

bonus-ish: sometimes I can't help but comment while I'm wrting lol

[westofessos]

I cried through the entire episode (Sabine wearing her armour, Ahsoka using her reverse grip, Phoenix Squadron, Hera and Jacen and seeing the Ghost in LA for the first time [for a significant period of time], and just how visually stunning this whole episode was), but that ending. Man, as soon as I saw where she was and heard that voice I fucking sobbed. I’ve seen enough, this is the best Star Wars show.

[livelaughlovesubs]

I read this from yours https://www.tumblr.com/livelaughlovesubs/743492538930954240/pitiful-thing?source=share

And i couldn't help reading it due to your amazing writing even if im not really into sadism-, anyway can we have more raphael?a part 2 but can you make it fluffy/sweet if its okay? Thank you!

Hey hey! Thank you for reading it :D and like always, I’m sorry it took so long… anyway, here it is :>

How pitiful

Part one!

Raphael x reader

Word count: 5.9k

This includes: triggering content, angst (aftermath from the first part), mental breakdown? Very toxic, at the end there’s fluff (happy end?), reader is still the same (very selfish)

Okay so, I wanted to make this like fluffy and sweet, and I didn’t manage to do that. I’M SORRY. Cuz I had too many ideas and so the fluff part would only be at the end. Sometimes there are small pieces of it throughout the story, but yea. I didn’t want to stop in the middle of it and make a third part cuz then you wouldn’t get the fluff you wanted, so I’m sorry that you had to wait this long, even then it’s more angst than fluff I’m sorry.

After a while, the corrosive smell started to bother you. Your hands were dyed completely red now. They were sticky and had feathers stuck to them, the blood of the male dried too. For a moment, it felt like you had a hangover. The things you did in the last few hours and the emotions you felt were slowly fading away, leaving nothing but desire behind. All you remembered was a vivid dream akin experience, one where you got to finally feel alive after falling down this deep abyss. The sudden change in environment seems to have influenced you more than you imagined. How you yearned for the screams and cries of him. It has only been a few minutes, yet that feeling, the rush of adrenaline started to disappear like a childhood memory. You didn’t want to forget it, you wanted to keep it sealed within you forever.

Time was passing by like usual, yet for some reason you didn’t seem responsive, as if you weren’t really there. As if you were floating in space, every nerve in your body turned off and your senses dulled. You couldn’t really acknowledge your surroundings, simply at the wall, contemplating and thinking about whatever you did remember. Everything that happened was being replayed in your head like a show, sadly the graphic setting was low and everything was a blur. Except for those crimson eyes of him.

The different expressions his eyes bore were mesmerising, enough to leave its imprint on you. How the once fierce look he owned turned into one of uncertainties, of doubt and fear. Your room looked like the aftermath of a battle. Luckily for you it was at a hotel, so you wouldn’t need to clean it. This wasn’t earth, it wouldn’t matter if the owner sees all of this, the evident of your action, the proof of your true desires. You felt empty again, like the fulfilment you felt before was ran out. The hand on the back of his head moved to his cheeks, moving his face backwards. He has been resting his chin in the crook of your neck the entire time without making a single sound, slowly it got suspicious.

Raphael was breathing very weakly and shallow, apparently he also got a nosebleed. “Hey, wake up.” You muttered, rubbing his cheeks gently. His pale face had blood stains, but his eyes were still closed. Right now he looked very vulnerable, so helpless as if he was someone that needed protection. At the same time he also appeared like an innocent child in your eyes, one that’s been depraved of love. How pitiful he is, being cast aside by his creator and now stuck in the claws of a monster. Since you wore him out a lot, you let him sleep. It didn’t matter if you knew nothing about the anatomy of an angel, if one is exhausted they need to take a break. You laid him down onto the humid mattress before you got up to go to the bathroom.

Now that you cleaned yourself up and got a towel, you started to clean the still asleep male too, wiping the excessive body fluids of him away. It was a little disturbing considering you were the cause of all of this, but you could manage. When you saw the two holes on his belly, where his piercings have been, you gaged a little. The scene turned out to be a bit more grotesque than you remembered. Speaking of memories, it was strange how you couldn’t recall what happened very clearly. After all, it was just happened, as if you weren’t thinking clearly when you did all that. You didn’t regret it though, because if there’s one thing you remembered, then it’s that you loved every second of it. Every action to the words you spoke, you knew you enjoyed yourself a lot. Enough to make you want to go for a second round.

Eventually you finished wiping him, sitting down next to Raphael again. Still so quiet, this wasn’t normal. Your first thought was that he fell asleep, though upon further inspection his face was starting to get pale. Soon you realised that he passed out and sighed, “…not good.” It looked like he lost his consciousness, probably due to the excessive amount of blood he lost. One glance was all you needed to know your hypothesis was right. In the end, you did rip his wings off, not to mention how the bed was now akin to the red carpet. A stressed out groan left you, why were thing always so difficult. Aftercare is great and all, but what should you do if he needs immediate treatment? It’s not like you can carry him all the way to paradise lost. Will today be the day you kill someone for the first time?

Suddenly the door to your hotel room crashed down, and a group of devils barged in. These devils, they really know no manners. Though you were also glad to some degree, because you saw Satan, sitri, and Marbas. “Y/n!” The devil with the white hair ran towards you, but he stopped after taking three steps. Sitri, who was pushing Marbas, followed his king and stopped right next to him. “Solomon, what happened?” That devil asked, his voice was filled with confusion. They must be shocked to see the state the room is in, not to mention Raphael. “I’ll tell you later. Marbas, can you help this guy here? He’s lost a lot of blood.” You looked calm, terrifyingly so, no panic could be spotted in your voice nor did you have a fast heartbeat. “I’ll see what I can do.” Marbas answered after a bit and got out of his binds. When he got close enough to recognise who that was, he hesitated. He still started treating him afterwards, despite the identity of the patient.

“Satan, why are you here?” In all honesty, you didn’t care, and you had a vague idea how they knew your location, but you didn’t want to answer their questions. You weren’t in the mood to right now. “When you disappeared so suddenly, everyone got worried. Then sitri found you.” Nothing you couldn’t guess yourself. “And? Why’s Marbas here?” This time, the devil with the blue hair spoke up, “I heard two heartbeats, and I recognised that the other one was an angel. That’s why.” So they thought you got beaten up or injured, huh, if that’s the case they are pretty late for a rescue operation. “What about you tell us your side of the story now?” It seems like you won’t be able to get out of this one. You noticed that he gritted his teeth again, one look was enough to tell he wasn’t happy. “Well, you see…” “y/n, your majesty Satan and sitri. I’m done, I stopped the bleeding and treated his injuries. Though this won’t be enough, we’ll need to bring him to paradise lost.” In the nick of time Marbas reported his observations and actions, in contrary to what you predicted, you were able to dodge the questions again.

“Why do we need to go all the way there, won’t the hospital in Gehenna suffice?” Satan scoffed, he was getting more furious by the second. First your disappearance, now all the hassle for an enemy. “Because… I believe only his majesty lucifer and gamigin knows how to properly treat him.” Just as Satan was about to inquire about the former seraphim’s injuries, you barged in, “All right, we don’t have much time, no? Shouldn’t we be on the way?” Everything was taking too long, so you interrupted their little small talk and rushed them. In addition, you also walked over to the bed, picking up the white jacket that belonged to his outfit and wrapped him in it. Sitri seems to have finally caught on and helped you carrying him. This was going to be a long night. It was so much hassle just to keep someone alive, maybe you should let him die instead? Was it because of your hardened personality that you weren’t sorry for him, that you didn’t feel any remorse?

It’s been three weeks since Raphael got taken in at the hospital of paradise lost. Your life hasn’t changed much, in fact it reversed back to how it was before your second meeting with him. Today, while you were visiting him, the sleeping beauty finally opened his eyes. It did caught you off guard, so you started to call for the doctor. “You’re [—]. Ah, lucifer, where’s [——]?” His view was blurry, it was like watching black paint spread on a clean paper. Furthermore his head was hurting a lot, as if he had been on a carousel for too long. It was to the point he couldn’t even register your voice properly. “…where…?” The man uttered, it was more like a groan of pain than words. He tried to cover his eyes with his hand due to how bright it was, that’s when he noticed an IV stuck to his arm. “You [—] hospital, if you [——] noticed.” It was still difficult to understand you, but it got better the more he tried. “…is that you, y/n?” Raphael asked and his hand reached out to you, his body acted before he could think about it. You held his hand and intertwined your fingers, then you squeezed his hand. “Yes.” He flinched at that, a little surprised at this sudden gentleness coming from you. This wasn’t how you were like last time, but he didn’t hate it.

A few minutes later lucifer also came into the room, the patient froze upon seeing his former colleague, he also hold your hand more firmly. You didn’t need two brain cells to know they had something to say to each other, so you got up to leave the room. When you stopped holding his hand, he tensed up again, in the end he eventually let go. Were you overthinking it or was he acting differently than before? Nonetheless, you went out to get some food for him. With a bit of discussing and arguing, you got Satan to give you permission to keep him. He did almost die because of you, with that being said you also thought he’d be more wary of you. In the end, you were proven wrong. For the time being you were going to be nice to him, so that he will want to stay, it’d be no good if he runs away. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks of pure boredom. After all that torturous wait, you finally felt an ounce of excitement.

When you got back to his resting place with a bag of to go food, you met lucifer who was just coming out of the room. They must have had a very long talk, was what you thought. You weren’t really curious about what they talked about though, which is why you asked him instead, “can he get out today? He looks healthy enough.” To your surprise the male disagreed, explaining, “he lost his wings, he’ll need physiotherapy.” The confusion was written all over your face like the front cover of a magazine, you said with an irritated tone, “you mean he can’t walk?” “Not good at best.” You should trust the words of a doctor, especially him who has more experience than you, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “But, it’s his wings he lost. He always walked without showing them.” Lucifer was kingly enough to explain it to you, how much patience he must have, “not showing them and not having them are two different things. He’s been used to having wings it for as long as he lived, this sudden change will cause his body to lose balance, because…” he has too much patience for sure, normally you though he was a quiet guy, though it looks like he can talk a lot if it’s his field. Great, now you had to listen to him lecture you about angel anatomy.

A while later buer called for lucifer, he had something to take care of and left you alone. You on the other hand was standing in front of the patient room now, still holding the now cold bag. So he has to stay here for a month, and then continuously visit it to get better. Is this was you want? Slowly your thoughts were getting too complicated, which is why you stepped inside. “You are back.” You saw raphael turn his head towards you. How pitiful he looked, all bedridden like this. “Yea, are you hungry?” That was a very unnecessary question, really, you didn’t know why you just wasted your breath with that one. Nevertheless you got closer and sat down on the chair next to him, then opened the bag and let him look inside. Maybe you should have used the microwave first, if there was one that is. “It’s all for you.” You added, in case he misunderstands anything. His hand reached out to your direction, though instead of the food he grabbed your hand. “…” “…?” This was bizarre to say the least, he didn’t make any sense. Both of you stayed silent, a few minutes felt like days. Why did he do that? You wondered, but before you could ask he let go of your hand again and reached inside the bag. “Thanks.” The male whispered, then bit into his food.

It was awkward, none of you dared to say something about the new promises between you two. The situation already escalated to the point where you couldn’t go back, guess you had to keep your word then. At some point, after he finished his meal, he just stared at his hands clenching the blankets. It looked like he was deep in thoughts, maybe even regretting ever meeting you. Was what happened only a mistake done in the heat of the moment? Were you going to tell him, ‘sorry, I didn’t mean to’ and then leave? After taking everything from him? That’s what he was contemplating. He can’t return to heaven without his wings, not that he exactly wants to go back, but if hell doesn’t have a place for him where can he go to? Your expression was neutral, too calm even, he couldn’t read you.

It was frustrating, you didn’t get any backlash from it, yet his life had turned upside down. Out of nowhere he reached out to you again and grabbed you by your collar, “You have to take responsibility, you can’t leave me now.” The male threatened you, getting really close to your face. Despite his deep voice, you saw the fear in his eyes, like a stormy night filled with thunder. He moved up too fast, as well as using too much strength, causing him to lose balance and fall over, crashing into your arms with his upper body. This wasn’t anything too dangerous, since you managed to catch him and prevent the fall of you two. It still hurt a little, because his fingers were gripping your shoulders really tight.

“Be careful now.” You said, pulling him in to hug him tightly, watching him tremble a little. This is weird, it wasn’t a natural reaction, so you questioned, “What’s wrong?” “I can’t…” “What?” He was acting strange, this was starting to make you feel uneasy too. Suddenly you hugged you back, holding onto you while saying, “You can’t leave me, don’t leave, never again. You made me like this, you have to take responsibility. Please, please, don’t abandon me too.” His eyes were unfocused, hieratic and wild, he panted while uttering those words like a prayer. The aspect that confused you the most was his expression, an unsettling, forced smile as he clung to you, repeating those phrases like a madman, “don’t leave, I can’t afford it now, don’t leave me.”

You stroked his hair and tried to reassure him, his voice was shaking the entire time. Has he finally gone crazy now? “as long as you behave good, I won’t leave. I’d never leave. I’m right here, Raphael, I’m right here.” It doesn’t matter if he is delusional or not, it’s easier this way. What a twisted path fate has planned out for him, it seems like no matter which turn he takes, he’ll always end up miserable. Even so he just adores when you hold him, when you make his life worth living by planting the seed of love within him. Just a few words that doesn’t even need to be true are enough to wrap him around your finger. You were no good for him, this much was clear from the beginning. Like the deadliest drug, giving him the illusion of temporal happiness, all while slowly rotting him from the inside. He can’t get out of this, he doesn’t want to get out, as long as you are alive he’ll keep using this drug, begging you for more. You can’t leave now, and he’ll make sure it stays like this forever.

Soon your visiting time was over, it was the break of dawn and you had to go home. You wanted to leave and already got up from your seat, he then asked, “where are you going?” “I’m going home, you have to stay here for a while.” Something was amiss again, the atmosphere got heavier. His eyes widened and you saw him getting uncomfortable, the change was so drastically like a light switch. “Take me with you,” Raphael demanded. “What?” This surprised you now. “I want to go with you.” He repeated his words once again, after hearing it for the second time you were still bewildered.

You’d like to say you saw determination in his eyes, but you only saw suspicion and anxiety. “If you want to, but lucifer said…” You abruptly stopped mid sentence, before adding, “you know what, let’s just leave together.” Then you gave him a hand. He tried to stand up, one step after another and hold your hand firmly. Out of nowhere he fell forwards, crashing into you again. Just like last time you managed to grab him and prevent the fall. “Ugh.” The boy yelped a little, and with your help, he managed to get back on his feet. Why was his balance so off, you thought, before you remembered the words of lucifer. To think losing his wing would have such an impact on him, you didn’t imagine it’d be this bad.

But standing alone wasn’t enough. You took a few steps back, and waited for him to follow you. When he did, he instantly fell over again. This time you weren’t there to catch him, and he crashed onto the floor. “Ah..” it wasn’t really painful, considering what he went through, but it scared him. He couldn’t walk like before anymore and flying was definitely out of the question. Even if he knew it will get better, this shock still had a physiological effect on him. Was this truly his fate, the path his lord has chosen for him? Will he find the affection he never got once he reached the end of this? He stared back to his legs, cursing his pathetic state under his breath, why was everything so hard?

You on the other hand was mesmerised, those vulnerable and desperate actions of his were making forgotten emotions float up to the surface again. These were the feelings you missed for three weeks, life’s been so boring without him like the main component was missing. The way he looked so crude was making your heart pound. You wanted him, so bad it hurt. When he looked up to you, he met your gaze, the face you made was indescribable. Was it joy, want, or anger? It made him anxious. An unfamiliar place without anyone he can trust. He killed may devils, who knows when one of them would attack him? His helplessness was causing him to depend on you more and more. “Get up, here.” Once again you reached your hand out to him, and pulled him up. With you here to help him keep balance, he was able to move more precisely.

The two of you didn’t do anything dramatic, simply walking out of the hospital hand in hand. Even if you walked pass other devils, they didn’t dare to say anything. You were the descendant of Solomon, and he was the infamous red angel. Was. Sometimes he would trip a little and lean forward, but you always managed to keep him on his feet. It felt like escorting someone who was drunk. Soon you two got out of the hospital and you called for a taxi, then you opened the door and pushed him inside. Raphael held your hand the entire time, unwilling to let go even for a moment. And with that, you two were making your way back to Gehenna.

Now you’ve done it, you really broke out of the hospital. It was way less dramatic than you thought, even so it left a bad taste in your mouth. You could still turn back and act like all of this never happened, should you? Then you looked over to the man sitting next to you in the car, he was looking out of the window, observing hell. “How do you feel, Raphael? You only woke up today after all.” He flinched at your words, then turned around. “I’m fine, I don’t need to go back.” Silence, a pretty awkward one at that. You still haven’t figured out how you should treat him, just the thought that he didn’t feel any resentment towards you was weird. On one hand you wanted to talk about it, on the other hand you didn’t know if it was the right time to do so. Suddenly Raphael spoke up again, “can I hold your hand?” He’s been like that all day, wanting to do such an innocent act with you, as if you didn’t turn his life upside down. It wouldn’t hurt to agree, so you held your hand out. The male was still looking out the window, in addition to that he was also holding your hand now. The rest of the ride went by like this, quietly and peacefully.

Once you two arrived in Gehenna, you helped him get out of the car. He stumbled a little but he was able to walk, though sometimes he would lose his footing and stray off. With heavy steps you two managed to get to your room. The devils who saw you two didn’t stop you, in such instances it was better to stay curious than knowing somehting they shouldn’t. You two had to go up the stairs to reach your destination, that was fun. Really fun. After he arrived in your room, you immediately made him sit down on your bed. He panted a little, already tired, probably because he didn’t move for the past few weeks. Satan did allow him to stay here, but you weren’t sure if he had an own room yet, so you suggested, “You can stay here for the time being, until I get you a separate room.” “…can it be the one next to yours then?” He asked, it was more like a condition though. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Then i don’t mind staying here.” That wasn’t something he gets to decide. You didn’t know what to think about sharing your privacy like this, since you didn’t have an answer yet, you changed the topic.

“Raphael, how do you feel?” “I answered you already, I’m fine,” he sounded mildly annoyed. “Yea, alright. Then what you are thinking?” “What I am thinking? Let’s see.” Raphael stretched himself on your bed, while you stood in front of him. “I can still remember the pain very well. Don get me wrong, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I don’t need it.” The male started explaining, his expression was serious and nonchalant. Then he trailed off, “huh, my chest feels tight whenever you aren’t here, if I can’t make sure you are with me my air gets snapped off. Like someone is ripping my heart out of my chest by force.” You weren’t sure what to do with these information, based on what you understood it seems like he has a few screws loose. “And?” “And it aches, it hurts. I can’t stand the idea of being separated from you.” He fumbled with his sleeves, but he wasn’t uncomfortable with sharing his thoughts.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he raised his voice, those red eyes of his showed an insatiable hunger in them, a need that can’t be satisfied. He grabbed your leg and pleaded, “don’t hurt me, you can hurt my body but don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me on my own, okay?” It’d be an understatement to say you were caught off guard by his sudden touch. Instead of replying him, you tried to take a few steps backwards, but he held onto you tightly. “Please.” His voice echoed through the room, it kind of freaked you out. In the end you got closer to him, now only inches away from the boy. This seems to satisfy him to some amount and he continued, “my neck, hah…it feels like a hand is choking me. It’s snapping my air off. Choke me please, take this feeling away.” “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t keep your bewilderedness hidden anymore, trying hard to understand the current situation.

“You are the only thing I have left. It’s only fair if I’m the only one in yours too. I’ll be good, I’ll be obedient, please tell me you need me like how I need you.” His hands grabbed your hips, fingers digging into your waist. “Ugh! Wait a second…” “I gave you what you wanted, because of you I ended up like this, don’t you see how good I’ve been to you?” This was getting uncomfortable, you weren’t exacltly scared for your life, rather you were concerned about the situation. Was this the consequences of your actions? “Raphael, calm the fuck down!” You grabbed his arms, trying to yank them away. It was starting to hurt, his nails were scratching you. Even admits all of this you noticed the flickering of his eyes, how his hands trembled and how he was shaking.

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you adore me? Isn’t that why you did all of this? Please tell me it’s true, don’t tell me otherwise. I don’t care if you have to lie. I didn’t do all of that for you to abandon me. Aren’t I the only one who would go this far for you? Tell me, tell me…! Please. I can’t, I can’t breathe. Y/n. Tell me you love me, please, give me everything you have. This agonising pain is too much to bear. Numb those feelings down until i am a shell of what I used to be. You can take anything from me, even if it’s my eyes. It hurts, it pains, help me, please, I’m begging. I think I’m going mad, y/n, have I made the wrong choice? All of this ache is driving me insane, you are my only escape now. Take it all away, make it go away. Is there no end to my suffering?”

His emotions just exploded, everything was all over the place. He also started crying at the same time as well as shaking you back and forth. Anger, doubt and fear filled him up to the rim. There was only so much he could take, and today was his snapping point. Your hand moved first, slapping him across the face, soon it turned red. His little breakdown was going too far and you weren’t nice enough to deal with it. “Fuck I told you to calm down, what are you doing, spouting one nonsense after another?” It’s rare for you to get this angry. You’ve learned to have a lot of patience after coming to hell but this man was pushing you out of your comfort zone. “I’m not good enough. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I can do better.” For some reason you highly doubted it, I mean just listen to what bullshit he was spouting. “Keep your hand on me, hurt me all you want. I’ll keep you entertained, I can be perfection for you.” The stare he gave you was serious, his tears rolled down his cheek with no purpose. Once again he started yapping about some hallucinations and fantasies he had in his brain.

He felt awful. There was no other way to describe it. Everything hurt, there wasn’t anything worth living for but you. If you left now who knows what he’ll do. Being casted aside all this time made him more insecure than he expected. Like a small bunny that got separated from its mother, walking into the wolfs den without a single clue. All that’s left for him was to clench onto any trace of love he could get. With god gone now, he truly had nothing left to lose, he needed nothing but your affection. This wasn’t about you, this wasn’t about him neither. It was about his obsession with finally feeling loved by his creator. For once he wants to be important to someone, to be useful and seen.

This need of his has been building up for centuries, and now he finally gave in to it. God was it pathetic. The title angel should have never been given to the likes of him, he truly was the one mistake of god. Despite all that you couldn’t deny it, the way he panicked was a little cute. It made your stomach feel butterflies, or was it something? The knowledge that all of this was your work made you feel proud. What a wise decision it was to leave with him today, when he’s still the most unstable. Getting thrown into an unfamiliar environment, meeting all kinds of people that can kill you. Maybe you two were pretty similar after all.

You were planning on being nice to him, you really were, but not anymore after all this drama he caused. “Raphael what are you talking about? You don’t get to decide who I’m seeing!” The words that felt from your lips were like blades stabbing his chest, the filter you had was turned off now. “Be grateful, that someone like me is taking care of something so filthy like you! You know it yourself, you are miserable and vulgar, it’s so selfish of you to want to keep me to yourself.” If he was going to let himself run wild like that, he also had to expect some consequences. The face he pulled was priceless, truly youthful greatest joy now. Tears dropped down his cheeks, you were enjoying yourself again, just like three weeks ago. Yes, this was the feeling you desperately missed.

“Such a pathetic being like you is destined to end up like this. Giving yourself up for me, isn’t it only natural? God favours me and not you.” That was a statement you highly doubted, since you weren’t exactly happy about being down here. Nonetheless, you said it just to make your little dove more miserable. Then you cupped his red and warm face, it was completely drenched in his tears now. His eyes looked tired, he seems to be so done with everything, so you cooed at him, “how pitiful you look…If I own you, you will finally find a purpose in that worthless life of yours again. If you give me your everything, naturally I’ll give you something worthy of it too. You can have an ounce of my affection, isn’t it great? Such a high reward for something like you!”

This was inexplainable, whenever it came to him you were like a different person. Ruining him, breaking him, hurting him, all of this became your favourite hobby. You aren’t a sadist, you are only like this with him! You are a good person, you are saving everyone in hell! It seems even you has lost your mind now. How are you going to return to earth with this mindset? The two of you were a match made from the depths of hell, a place not even god dared to enter. A truly beautiful and twisted bridge full of thorns. Instead of fighting together you made him clear the way for you, only to push him into the deadly river afterwards. Why you’d go this far? Honestly you didn’t have a good reason, it was all done for the sake of your enjoyment. “You aren’t enough Raphael, you are never enough.” A soft smile appeared on your face as you chuckled. This was fulfilling, but that blackhole inside you ached for more. “I’m so sorry Raphael, that you were born, and that you have to keep living. I’m begging you, please be lonely forever. Do it for me?”

Raphael was sobbing quietly, yet his features didn’t tell he was sad, instead relief was written all over his face. He didn’t know why, but you were dazzling right now. When you touched him it felt like the hand of god, you were his replacement for his lord. “I know it hurts, it will only get worse from here on, but soon you’ll be craving the pain.” You whispered, wiping his tears away with tender movements. “Please endure all of this and live miserable with me for a long time.” Stay with you, forever, that was all he heard. He filtered the words out he didn’t want to hear, then he gave you a meek smile. How adorable, so damn cute you won’t ever let go of him. You caressed his cheeks from above, smiling back at him. No one could understand the relationship of you two, it was something truly unique and wonderful. Who would have thought that the bunny and the wolf ended up together?

“y/n, do you love me?” Raphael asked, it looks like he finally calmed down. How strange that such words were able to help him. Or it broke him more, who knows. You had to think about what to say, the feelings you experienced when you were with him, the ache you felt and how you wanted to do so many things to him. After a few moments, you eventually came to the conclusion this must be love. Love makes one crazy, if this isn’t love, then what is it? It would mean it was something much more sinister, and that didn’t have a nice sound to it. Maybe it was just a mutual reliance, each one takes something from the other they desperately need while hurting all the involved parties as they do. Even if that was the truth, you couldn’t care less. All you wanted to do was to hold him while he repeats the words, ‘I’m yours’. You kissed his forehead, then answered with a ‘yes’. He pulled you towards him and both of you fell onto the bed, it bounced a little due to your weights. Then, Raphael hugged you tightly as he whispered, “I’m glad. I love you too.”

[wundrousarts]

Mini Silverborn Countdown

If you’ve been around for a few years, you’ve seen me vaguely mention a “Silverborn Countdown Challenge” several times. It’s been delayed and changed as many times as the book itself, lol.

If anyone wants sort of a low-stakes, very chill and spaced out version of this ye olde never tackled challenge to complete in the next year before Silverborn, I propose what I’m doing:

Every 3 months leading up to the initial release, I am creating one thing based on each of the books.

January — Nevermoor

April — Wundersmith

July — Hollowpox

[seafoamsol]

Every so often someone will come across my team fortress 2 art from like, 2017, and just go through all of it and I just have to deal with the psychic damage of reliving my high school years and seeing my old art

[destructive-delight]

of all the things youtube has picked up on its way down the cliff into the advertiser friendly algorithm hellscape that it is now, giving creators the option to heart comments is probably the only feature i truly consider an unambiguous improvement that i appreciate from both a commenter and creator perspective. wish more sites would offer that.

[chibishortdeath]

Great googley moogley it’s all going to shit! Every day becomes exponentially more terrifying!

And all perfectly timed to just right at the start of what’s supposed to be my adult life where I get my shit together and be useful and productive!

[melrosing]

anyway in an absolutely wild turn of events I think I’m free of my hideous job and like. substantially richer for it??? lmao 2023 you really owed me

[boy-armageddon]

YES my username on yt is a blood bros reference :33 i need to go to crimes world again i know in my heart and soul that i love her but i seldom show her attention .. i need to care her more ..

HOOFRAY!!!! also pretty please do!!!!!!! for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[vampirebutterflies]

listen ‘ere boy there is a voice in ur head telling u ur fine and you don’t need to go to therapy tomorrow and that voice is a f u c k i n g liar don’t listen to it boy don’t fuckin’ listen to that rat ass bastard it does NOT have ur best interests at heart

[mwheelerz]

hot take: i don’t think jqncy will end up together

[ginadora]

.

[drowninginthoughts27]

Hey uhh maybe STOP RATING FICS!!!

[chuluoyi]

𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

- zayne x reader

he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness

note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru

07.15 p.m

Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.

“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”

Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”

“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”

He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.

“Alright.”

. . .

08.25 p.m

Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.

The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.

It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—

He was supposed to meet you at six.

If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.

You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.

The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.

And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.

“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.

You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.

Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.

“Hello, Zayne?”

“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”

“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”

“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”

“I’ve already arrived.”

An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.

You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”

“Yeah...”

“Take care then. See you at home.”

You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.

Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.

It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?

At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.

Your marriage has always been lukewarm.

Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.

Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.

“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”

. . .

“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”

Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”

You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”

Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.

“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”

You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.

“I will then.”

“No.”

“Y/N, you—”

“Shut up, Xavier—”

The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.

When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”

His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.

Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.

. . .

The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.

You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.

"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."

"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"

He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.

"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."

Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."

"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"

"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."

His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.

“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”

“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“

“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”

“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”

“Believe me, I do but—!”

Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”

He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.

His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.

The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.

Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.

And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.

For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.

“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”

You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.

That was when your first tear fell.

Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.

To her.

You two are too much alike.

It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.

On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.

Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.

Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.

After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.

And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.

. . .

"How much is this?"

"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"

Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.

He thought it'd suit you well.

"I'll get this then."

"Right away!"

As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.

Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—

"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.

There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.

It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.

"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.

Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."

You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"

"Mm-hm. It's getting better."

"I'll have a look at it later."

"Sure."

Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.

Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."

To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”

Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.

But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."

So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.

"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"

"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."

"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."

"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."

The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.

When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."

"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.

"Open it."

With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."

Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"

Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.

"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—

—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.

"It's healing nicely."

You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.

It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.

"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."

He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."

"I know!"

Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.

“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.

"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."

Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.

"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."

Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”

You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"

"A very uncooperative wife, you are."

You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stop by the florist—”

And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.

Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."

No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.

Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.

You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.

"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."

Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.

You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.

"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.

You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.

What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.

In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.

. . .

“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”

Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”

You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.

“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.

“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”

“And you like them as well.”

“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”

The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a woman.

Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”

Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.

“Y/N, you...”

It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—

“I... am glad it is you.”

His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.

“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”

And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”

You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.

Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.

Was it the alcohol?

You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.

“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.

“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.

But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.

He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—

In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.

He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—

“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.

“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.

It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.

“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”

There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.

And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.

He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.

You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s silver eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.

"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.

Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.

And yet, despite that...

“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.

Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.

But you never received your answer.

Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.

He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.

Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.

You are so happy. Incomparably so.

At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.

The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.

Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—

You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.

It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.

Him and you... last night...

Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...

There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.

And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—

He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.

. . .

It was the best sleep you’d had all week.

When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.

Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.

You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"

He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.

Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.

"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.

"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.

And then came the killing blow—

"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."

Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.

"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."

Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!

Your husband considers that a night spent with you—his wife—a mistake!

The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.

Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"

"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.

No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.

The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.

Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.

Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.

You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.

"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"

Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"

"No, forget it."

Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.

Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."

You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"

"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."

At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.

But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."

"—?! You're so mean!"

A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"

You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."

A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:

Petition for Divorce.

Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.

You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.

He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.

Believe it or not, he cherished you too.

That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.

He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.

Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.

It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.

. . .

It was strange to see you on duty.

With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.

"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."

He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.

So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.

But that wasn't the most surprising of all—

"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.

He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.

Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.

It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...

Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.

But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.

Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?

Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.

He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.

"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.

"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."

"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"

Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"

Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.

"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"

Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.

"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"

He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.

"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.

A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"

"Those two! They are always—!"

What?

Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.

You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.

He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.

No. Not again!

Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.

"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"

All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...

He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.

The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.

If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.

He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—

You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.

Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—

A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.

A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.

The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.

"Zayne? Zayne!"

A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.

Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.

Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.

"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."

Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."

He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.

Since then, you have always been there.

And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.

. . .

Another memory.

"Are you awake...?"

His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.

"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."

You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.

Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."

"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.

"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"

"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"

You were noisy, but endearingly so.

. . .

"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."

There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.

And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.

"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.

He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.

"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"

You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"

Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...

In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.

"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"

The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—

"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"

Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.

Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.

Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?

"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.

"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"

Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."

"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"

"I'm... fine..."

"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"

You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.

Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."

"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"

"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."

"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"

"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."

His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"

"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"

The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.

And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.

He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.

You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.

"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."

But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.

You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”

“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”

You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”

“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”

You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.

He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.

It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.

And one night, several days later...

"Here, don't move..."

You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.

"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.

"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase the sadness from your face. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."

Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.

"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.

"What, why aren't you— Ah!"

Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"

He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”

You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”

His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”

And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.

"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.

He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."

"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"

That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.

It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.

At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.

He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."

Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.

He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.

But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.

Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.

“I... want to treasure you better.”

Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.

Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“This time for sure... I will.”

And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.