a-casxandra

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 | Zayne x Mc x Caleb [part 1]

Sypnosis : Zayne has always known his place in your life. Childhood friends who drifted apart, only to find each other again when you needed him most. As a surgeon, he can mend wounds, fix hearts, and save lives—but he knows there are wounds even he cannot heal.

Loving you was never a choice. It was inevitable. And as your relationship deepens towards a future together, Zayne silently accepts the truth: he may never fill the void left by the person you lost, but if loving you means being second choice for the rest of his life, he would gladly carry that burden—as long as it means keeping you safe by his side.

𝗭𝗔𝗬𝗡𝗘'𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Zayne remembers the first time he saw you.

Your hair was a tangled mess, your knees scraped from tripping over cracked concrete. Caleb was beside you, gently brushing the dirt from your palm, eyes narrowed at anyone who dared to approach.

Zayne was six. You were five. Caleb was six too.

He remembers thinking, she looks like a stray cat. Fierce despite trembling, stubborn despite being so small.

The three of you became inseparable in the orphanage. Zayne was the quiet observer, the older boy who tutored you both in math, who shielded you from bullies when Caleb wasn’t around. Caleb was your sun – bright, warm, unafraid to burn anything that hurt you. Zayne… Zayne was your shadow. Always there. Always silent.

And when Josephine came, she adopted only you and Caleb.

Zayne still remembers the way you cried into Caleb’s chest when you had to leave. He remembers gripping the rusted gate, watching the car drive away. That day, he promised himself—I will become someone worthy, so I can find her again.

Years passed.

He got adopted too, by an old surgeon who saw potential in him. His days were filled with books, scalpel practice, sterile hospital halls. But no matter how much time passed, he never forgot you.

The day he found your name in Akso’s patient registry—a hunter injured during mission—his hands trembled. He rushed to the ER faster than logic permitted. And there you were.

Older. Scarred. Beautiful in ways pain can shape a person. Caleb wasn’t beside you. Zayne asked the nurse in passing, pretending casual curiosity, only to find out what happened. Explosion. No survivors. Confirmed deaths.

He watched as you sat there, staring blankly at your bloodied bandaged arm, clutching a worn dog tag in your trembling hands. His chest tightened. Even in death, Caleb remained at the center of your world.

And yet, despite knowing this, he stayed.

He treated your wounds. He stitched your injuries with steady hands even as his heart screamed at him to pull you into his arms and take away your pain. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. Somewhere along the way, you started texting him first. Calling him late at night just to hear his voice. Sleeping in his apartment when your nightmares became too much to bear.

Zayne never rushed you.

He knew.

He knew he was not the first choice. That there was a Caleb-shaped hole in your heart that no one—not even him—could ever fill. But he loved you anyway. Loved you quietly, desperately, the same way he did since childhood.

When you finally said yes to his proposal, he wept silently into his pillow that night. Because he knew it wasn’t because you stopped loving Caleb. You just finally allowed yourself to be loved by someone else. And if it had to be anyone, he was grateful it was him.

The Day Caleb Returned

The second Zayne saw your trembling hands holding the Farspace Fleet’s report, he knew.

You didn’t need to say anything. Your eyes said it all.

“Caleb… he’s… alive…” your voice broke into sobs, falling to your knees as your shoulders shook.

Zayne felt the world blur around him.

He kneeled beside you, wrapping his arms around you as you sobbed into his chest. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart piece by piece, but he held you tighter. Because this was what you needed—him holding you together when your world fell apart. Even if he knew you would never look at him the way you looked at Caleb.

That night, Zayne sat alone in his office, staring at the engagement ring he planned to slip onto your finger next week. He turned it over and over between his fingers, feeling the cold metal burn against his skin.

He knew you still loved Caleb.

He knew if Caleb came back, he would always lose.

And he was ready. Ready to let you go. Ready to set you free.

But deep down, in the shadows of his heart, a selfish voice whispered—Don’t go. Please… stay with me…

He clenched his eyes shut, nails digging into his palms until blood welled from crescent-shaped marks. No. Your happiness has, and always will be, his priority.

The Wedding Day

The cathedral was bathed in warm golden light. Zayne stood at the altar, watching as Caleb walked you down the aisle. Your eyes were glossy with tears. Caleb’s smile was soft, bittersweet, resigned.

Zayne’s chest ached.

He wondered, for a fleeting second, if you wished it was Caleb standing where he was now. If your heart screamed at you for betraying the boy you loved all your life. But then your eyes met his, and your smile—though small and hesitant—reached your eyes.

And in that moment, he knew.

Even if he wasn’t your first love, he would be your last.

Even if he was your second choice, he would be the man who stays.

Because loving you, even partially, was enough to fill his entire life with purpose.

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 | Caleb x Mc x Zayne [Part 2]

Sypnosis : Ever since childhood, you and Caleb shared a quiet, unspoken bond. Growing up in the same orphanage and later adopted by the same woman, your lives intertwined seamlessly, as if you were two halves of a whole. Without ever confessing, you both understood: love didn’t need words to exist. But when tragedy struck, your world was shattered. Forced to pick up the pieces alone, you buried your feelings and pressed forward, refusing to dwell on the past. Yet even as you chase danger across the stars as a deepspace hunter, his memory clings to your heart like a wound that refuses to heal.

Author's note : yes, i did changed a few things here. so pls don't be surprise if you read some lines and thought, "this is not what happened in the main storyline." ik guys, that's what au is for. Anyways happy reading! If you're new, just know that i don't mind spam like or comment (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

The three of you were inseparable once.

You, Zayne, and Caleb. Childhood friends bound not by blood, but by that unspoken promise children make to each other— “I will never leave you behind.”

But between Zayne and Caleb, it was always Caleb whom you clung to. The two of you grew up at the orphanage, sharing blankets in winter, sharing scraps of bread, sharing tears when other kids got adopted before you. Until the day Josephine came— kind, elderly, and alone—and took you both in.

That small apartment became your universe.

Caleb cooking instant noodles while humming under his breath. You studying under the flickering lamp while he draped his jacket over your shoulders. Late nights on the balcony, staring at the moon because neither of you could sleep. His hand brushing yours. His head resting on your lap. Those touches never crossed the line – never needed to. It was quiet love. Unconfirmed, but it was real. So real it hurt sometimes.

Sometimes, love didn’t need to be loud. It was in how he peeled oranges for you. How he made sure your shoes were dry on rainy days. How he’d glare at the world if it so much as made you frown. For Caleb, loving you was his purpose. Loving you made him feel alive.

And you loved him too.

But neither of you said it.

There was no rush. You had each other. That was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

“Caleb…” you whispered, dazed, ash and blood staining your vision as you clutched the dog tag in your trembling hand. Everything happened too fast. One moment, he was laughing beside you, telling you to hurry up and get inside before the soup gets cold. The next, he was gone.

The explosion ripped through your world before your mind could register it.

When you woke up, debris surrounded you. Your ears rang. Your chest burned with each breath. But all you felt was coldness spreading in your veins when you saw the house—your home— reduced to rubble.

They said it was an accident.

They gave you the death certificates.

Grandma Josephine… gone.

Caleb… gone.

You refused to process it. Refused to believe the charred metal pieces and shattered glass was the place that once smelled like Caleb’s cooking and grandma’s herbal tea. You clutched his dog tag tighter. If you let go, maybe he’ll disappear for good.

Moving on was impossible.

You searched for answers, crossing the lawless borders into Onychinus, bruised and bleeding, desperate for anyone who might have seen what truly happened. But each time you came back with nothing but more questions and injuries.

So you did the only thing you knew—

You threw yourself into work as a deepspace hunter.

Danger was a distraction. Pain kept your mind occupied. The protocore embedded in your heart pulsed mechanically, keeping you alive when your will couldn’t.

And then there was Zayne.

Your other childhood friend, who disappeared years ago and reemerged as a renowned cardiac surgeon at Akso Hospital. The same Zayne who treated you for your injuries with quiet scoldings and softer hands. Somewhere along the way, those silent hospital nights turned into early morning coffees, into fleeting kisses, into waking up with his arms around you.

You never expected to love again. But Zayne was there. Stable, gentle, protective in a way that didn’t hurt. And eventually, you found yourself saying yes when he asked you to marry him.

𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗯'𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘃

He woke up on a metal table, bright surgical lights blinding him. His body ached. Tubes ran into his veins. His chest felt like it had been torn apart and sewn back together. The first thing he thought of was you.

“Where… is she…?”

No one answered. Only the cold hum of machines and the sterile scent of Skyhaven’s research facility surrounded him.

Days turned into weeks. He trained under the Farspace Fleet, forced to become a weapon with the chip they embedded in his brain. A failsafe, they said, in case he rebelled.

But in the quiet moments between missions, when his body was on autopilot and his mind was free to wander, he thought of you.

Of the way your eyes turned into crescents when you laughed. Of the way your hair smelled like jasmine after every shower. Of the way you used to tap his forehead when he pouted.

Did you move on? Did you mourn him? Were you okay?

He longed to see you, but feared it too. Because somewhere deep down, he knew life doesn’t pause for the dead.

When he finally saw you again, it was in the most unexpected place.

Your eyes widened as you lowered your gun, confusion and disbelief shattering your resolve.

“Caleb…?” you whispered.

He smiled softly, though his heart cracked at your tone—at the sight of the silver ring around your neck attached to a thin chain.

Zayne’s ring.

You were older now. Your eyes held storms they didn’t before. But you were still you. Beautiful, stubborn, radiant.

He wanted to pull you into his arms, bury his face in your hair, and tell you he missed you more than words could ever carry. But when he saw the way you trembled, the tears gathering in your eyes, the hope dying just as it bloomed—he knew.

You had moved on.

And with Zayne, of all people. A part of him felt relief. At least it was someone who knew you. Who cared for you. But the rest of him burned in bitter agony. Why couldn’t it have been me? Why did fate choose him instead?

And so, the day came when he wore his formal uniform and walked you down the aisle.

Your hands trembled as you held onto him. The soft organ music filling the white cathedral felt like funeral hymns in his ears. He should be happy for you. He told himself he was happy for you.

“Caleb…” you whispered, tears brimming as you looked at him with guilt shadowing your smile.

Caleb swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile.

“You look beautiful, pipsqueak."

Just like he used to call you back then.

Every step down the aisle felt like dying all over again. He could feel the chip pulsing at the base of his neck, the one that the researchers said could erase any memory he chose. And for a moment, he considered it.

Would it be easier to let it all go? To forget her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes looked at me like I was her world?

But Caleb stopped himself.

Because you were the last bit of humanity he had left.

If he let those memories go, he would become nothing but an empty weapon for the Fleet. At least this way, even if he couldn’t have you, even if his love remained unspoken and unrequited, he could remain Caleb. The Caleb who loved you since he was a boy.

The Caleb whose purpose was, and always will be, you.

Author's note : as you can see, i'm back at writing angst lol i just can't write a good fluff/romance stuff so yes, you guys will just have to deal with me throwing bricks at you hehe (gonna post zayne's pov tomorrow)

[a-casxandra]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

Sylus x non-mc, no spoiler.

Part 1 and 2 | Sylus's version of third person to a two-person's home [zayne's fic]

Sypnosis : Sylus was a man who loved too deeply for his own good. He spent his life trying to hold everything together—a demanding mother who never approved of his choices, a wife he adored but often neglected, an unborn child he lost because he wasn’t there, and a sick daughter he never knew existed until it was too late. He tried to be everything to everyone, sacrificing pieces of himself until there was nothing left. In the end, his love—so heavy, so consuming—became the very thing that broke him.

𝗦𝘆𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄

From the very beginning, you were a light he never knew he needed.

Sylus met you at a corporate travel fair. You were just a university student then, volunteering at the tourism booth. Your smile was soft and awkward, your hair tied back messily with a black ribbon. You were nervous, fumbling your words when he asked about package deals for company trips.

He thought you were adorable.

Somehow, that chance meeting turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into dinners. Dinners turned into quiet nights in his apartment where you would fall asleep on his chest, your soft breathing anchoring him to reality.

He loved you. More than he ever thought he could love anyone.

That’s why he married you.

Your wedding was simple. You didn’t want anything grand, just the people you loved, vows whispered with trembling voices, and a promise to always stay by each other’s side.

When you found out you were pregnant, you cried in his arms for hours. He remembered thinking—I’ll do everything to protect you. To protect our family.

But life was never that kind.

Sylus knew his mother disliked you from the start.

She would comment on your posture, your manners, your education. She thought you were beneath him. That you weren’t strong enough to stand by his side in the world he navigated.

He tried. God, he tried so many times to make her like you. He’d invite her to dinner with you, only to watch her ignore your every attempt at conversation. He defended you, argued with her until his throat was raw. But each time you would tug his sleeve, shaking your head, silently begging him to stop fighting. Because it hurt you more to see him argue with his mother than to endure her silent hatred.

Then MC showed up.

His ex-girlfriend. His first love. The woman he thought he would marry someday, before everything fell apart between them.

She appeared at his office one morning, clutching the hand of a small child. A little girl with silver-white hair and crimson eyes.

His features.

His blood.

Lilith.

He remembered feeling like the air was sucked out of his lungs. Six years. Six years he never knew he had a daughter.

She was beautiful… but so frail. Sick. The doctors said she didn’t have long without continuous treatment.

That’s when everything began to crumble.

Sylus tried to be there for you, he really did. But Lilith needed him. MC needed help too. And slowly, his hours were spent more at the hospital than at home. He told himself it was temporary – that once Lilith stabilized, he could focus on you again. On your pregnancy. On the family he was building with you.

But he didn’t notice how distant he became. How lonely your eyes grew every time he left.

That day, you begged him not to leave.

“Sylus… can’t you just stay here tonight, please…?” you asked, tears trembling in your eyes, your hands clutching his coat sleeve.

“[y/n]… I can’t. Lilith needs me in the hospital.”

“B-but I need you too!” your voice broke, desperate and small. “I… I haven’t been feeling well since last night… I feel dizzy, and… and I…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. You were terrified, he could see it. But in his mind, Lilith was worse. Lilith was dying. You… you would be okay, wouldn’t you? You were strong. His strong girl.

“My mother is here. She’ll stay with you. I’ll be back,” Sylus said, prying your hands away from him, kissing your forehead before leaving without looking back.

That decision would haunt him forever.

When Sylus came home that night, he expected you to be asleep. But then he heard it—the muffled sobs from the bathroom.

He opened the door to find you curled on the floor, blood pooling around you. Your eyes were glazed with pain and tears, your hands trembling as you clutched your stomach.

“It hurts… Sylus… it hurts so much…”

He remembered screaming your name. Scooping you into his arms. Driving through the night like a madman. The red lights blurred past. All he could see was your blood-stained pajamas. All he could hear were your fading sobs.

At the hospital, they told him the words he would never forget.

“I’m sorry… your wife experienced a miscarriage. The baby… was already gone by the time you brought her here.”

Gone.

He sat outside your hospital room that night, his back against the wall, head buried in his hands as silent sobs tore through him.

It’s my fault.

It’s all my fault.

I killed our baby… I killed… everything…

When you were discharged, Sylus tried to hold you on the way home but you flinched away silently. Your eyes were empty, staring out the window as though you were already somewhere far away.

Not even a day later, MC called again. Lilith was unresponsive. The doctors needed him there immediately.

“If you leave now… don’t expect to have a wife you can come back to,” you said softly, staring at him with tearless eyes.

The words scared him. Truly scared him.

But Lilith needed him. After losing his unborn child with you, he couldn’t lose his daughter too.

“I’ll come back,” Sylus promised desperately, leaning down to kiss you, but you turned away. “Please… wait for me. I’ll come back. I promise.”

And then he left. Again.

When Sylus came back that evening, he was exhausted. Drained. But hopeful, somehow. Maybe you’d be angry. Maybe you’d shout at him. Maybe you’d cry and hit his chest with your small fists. He would take it all. He deserved it all.

But when he stepped into the house, it was silent.

Utterly silent.

He called your name once. Twice. No answer.

That’s when he saw them—the suitcases by the door.

He opened them with trembling hands. Only your things inside. Only yours.

His eyes scanned the room. Everything he ever gave you remained behind – the dresses he bought to impress his mother, the expensive accessories, the shoes, the bags. Even your wedding ring lay on the vanity table, glinting under the dying sunset light.

You left it all behind.

You didn’t even want to bring a single piece of him with you.

Sylus sat on the edge of the bed that night, staring at the empty spot where you used to sleep. The sheets still smelled like you. Like your shampoo. Like your warmth. Like everything he just lost.

He thought he could balance it all.

Be a husband.

Be a father.

Be a son.

He really, really tried his best.

But life demanded sacrifices. And to keep one, he had to lose another.

He could be a father to Lilith.

But a husband? No. Sylus would never be a husband again. Not after losing you. Because his love… his entire heart… it always belonged to you. It was only overshadowed by the guilt of wanting to make it up to Lilith, the daughter he never knew existed.

Now he had lost you both in different ways.

And Sylus… he couldn’t recover from that.

That night, after reading Lilith her bedtime story at the hospital, he kissed her forehead softly. Watched her chest rise and fall. Memorised the shape of her face, the sound of her breathing. He stroked her silver-white hair, the same as his.

“Be good for mommy, okay…?” Sylus whispered softly, voice breaking as tears fell onto her blanket. “Daddy loves you so much…” He walked out of the room, his footsteps silent down the dark hallway.

When Sylus got home, the emptiness of the house swallowed him whole. The rooms still smelled like you. The bathroom tiles still had faint stains of blood he didn’t clean properly, a permanent reminder of what he destroyed.

He sat on your side of the bed, staring at the blank wall. The moonlight illuminated his profile – the silver hair, the hollow crimson eyes, the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

For the first time, his phone wasn’t ringing.

No one needed him.

No one was waiting for him.

“I’m sorry… I’m so… so sorry…” he whispered into the emptiness.

He thought he could fix it all.

He thought he could save everyone.

But he couldn’t even save the woman he loved most in this world.

Sylus reached into the drawer, pulled out his old handgun. He stared at it for a long time, feeling its weight in his trembling hands.

He thought about you.

Your smile.

Your laughter.

The way you said his name like it was the only word that mattered.

The way you whispered “I love you” against his chest at dawn.

𝗦𝘆𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀.

𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁.

Author's note : it is, what it is. also sylus from the new multi-banner is so cute, like wdym he let mc ties his hair into tiny ponytails?? Anyways, i actually just woke up, did i just chose violence? yes. and now i'm going back to sleep lol

[a-casxandra]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

Sylus x non-mc | Sylus's version of third place in a two-person home [Zayne's fic]

Part 1

They discharged you the next morning.

You left the hospital in a haze, Sylus’s hand hovering awkwardly at your back as though he didn’t know how to touch you anymore. The drive home was silent. The roads blurred past the window, your forehead pressed against the cold glass. You could still feel it – the emptiness in your womb. The phantom pain of something you lost, something that would never come back.

When you entered the house, it felt different. Colder.

The world continued to move outside – cars passing, neighbours laughing, children playing – but inside you, everything had stopped. It was all just… silence.

You lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, your hand resting over your belly where life once grew. The tears came quietly, without sobs, like a leaking faucet that refused to be fixed.

Not even half a day had passed when Sylus’s phone rang.

You didn’t need to ask who it was. You could hear her muffled voice through the speaker – MC.

“Something happened with Lilith,” Sylus said, running a hand through his hair. His crimson eyes flicked to you. He looked exhausted. Guilty. But determined nonetheless. “I need to go to the hospital.”

You remained silent. Your chest felt hollow, like someone had scooped out everything that made you human and left only an empty shell.

“[Y/n], please understand—”

“She’s using her,” you whispered, your voice calm but trembling. “She’s using Lilith to get you back.”

“Don’t say that,” Sylus snapped instinctively, but his tone softened immediately. “Please… she’s sick… she needs me. I promise, I’ll be back tonight.”

Promise.

That word echoed in your mind like poison dripping into a well.

The same promise he made when you begged him to stay just a day ago.

The same promise he made… the day you lost your child.

Your lips parted, the words falling out so softly it almost didn’t sound like your own voice. “If you leave now… don’t expect to have a wife you can come back to.”

His eyes widened, flickering with something unreadable – guilt, panic, disbelief. But then his phone rang again, louder, insistent.

“I’ll come back,” Sylus said, voice tight with urgency. He leaned down to kiss your forehead but you turned away, staring blankly at the wall as he grabbed his keys.

And just like that, he left.

Without looking back.

You sat there.

For hours.

The clock ticked. The sun moved across the sky. Shadows shifted across the floor.

You sat there.

Staring at the front door long after it closed. The silence pressed against your eardrums so hard it felt like they would burst.

Sylus had made his choice.

He always did.

And now… it was your turn to make yours.

By sunset, you were done packing.

Two suitcases by the door. Only yours.

You left behind everything Sylus ever gave you – the expensive dresses he bought to impress his mother, the jewellery you wore to his company parties, the bags, the shoes, even your wedding ring. You placed it gently on the vanity table beside the framed wedding photo.

You stared at the photo for a long time. At your smiling face. At his quiet, reserved smile. At the way his arms were wrapped around you like you were something precious.

Your vision blurred with tears. You swallowed the sob threatening to escape your throat. Then you turned away.

You walked out the door without looking back.

This time, it was your choice to leave.

And you weren’t coming back.

Author's note : sylus' pov next, maybe i'll post it tomorrow since it's already written in my drafts. you guys can go crazy in comment section lol i mean, the most entertaining part about writing a story, is the reactions and comments from readers. (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

[a-casxandra]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

Sylus x non-mc, sylus's version of third place to a two person home [Zayne's fic]

Sypnosis : When you married Sylus, you believes you found your forever– a loving husband and a future filled with hope as you both await their first child. But when Sylus’s past reappears in the form of his sickly daughter from his ex-girlfriend, your world is thrown into turmoil. Torn between responsibility and love, Sylus struggles to hold his family together, while you were left battling loneliness, grief, and the haunting fear of being forgotten. As promises are broken and choices made, your love is tested in ways neither of them ever imagined.

Some people say that the past doesn’t matter. That what truly matters is the present and the future ahead.

You reminded yourself of that. Every single day. Over and over.

You were happy.

You thought you were, at least.

You had just graduated with a full degree in tourism, your lifelong dream.

You married the love of your life, Sylus – the man with silver-white hair, crimson eyes, and an intimidating presence that melted only when he was with you.

And now, you were pregnant. Three months along. The life growing inside you made every morning worth enduring.

But with happiness comes an exchange. A price. And life made sure you paid yours in full.

Sylus’s mother never liked you.

She never said it directly, but she never tried to hide it either. Her cold eyes scanned over you like you were nothing more than dust on her polished floors.

She saw every flaw. Every inadequacy. Every wrong move you made.

But that wasn’t the only problem.

MC. Sylus’s first love. His only ex.

Beautiful. Warm. Perfect. Everything you weren’t.

One day, she appeared in his life again, not alone.

She brought with her a six-year-old girl. Lilith.

A child with Sylus’s silver-white hair and crimson eyes. A miniature copy of him.

But Lilith was sick. Frail. Her small body was constantly hooked up to IV drips and oxygen tubes. The doctors said it was a miracle she was still fighting.

Because of that, Lilith spent most of her days confined to a hospital bed. MC was always by her side. And now, Sylus was too.

“Sylus… can’t you just stay here tonight, please…?” you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as you clutched the sleeve of his coat. Your voice trembled with desperation. Hormones surged wildly through your veins, amplifying your fear, your anxiety, your loneliness.

“[y/n]… I can’t. Lilith needs me in the hospital,” he replied softly, avoiding your gaze as he adjusted his wristwatch.

“B-but I need you too!” you cried out, your voice breaking into sobs. “I… I haven’t been feeling well since last night… I feel dizzy, and… and I…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. Fear clogged your throat like a noose. You were terrified of losing your baby. Terrified of the cramps that woke you up before dawn. Terrified of being alone.

“My mother is here. She’ll stay with you. I’ll be back,” Sylus said. He pried your trembling hands away from him and kissed the top of your head, like a routine farewell, before walking out the door.

You watched his back disappear into the dark driveway, the taillights of his car fading into nothingness.

His mother didn’t say a word. She sat silently on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the television, never glancing your way.

You felt so alone.

Utterly, completely alone.

That evening, you tried to distract yourself. You folded the baby clothes you had secretly ordered online. Tiny onesies in neutral colours. Matching socks. A small knitted hat. You pressed the fabric against your face, inhaling the scent of new cotton, imagining what your baby would look like.

Would they have Sylus’s crimson eyes? Your hair colour? Your smile?

Tears blurred your vision as pain stabbed through your lower belly again. You gasped, clutching the table for support. The pain subsided after a minute, leaving you shaking and breathless.

His mother looked up briefly, her lips curling in faint annoyance. “You’re making too much noise,” she said coldly, before turning back to her drama series.

You wanted to scream. To beg her for help. But your pride swallowed your words. You staggered into the bedroom, clutching your belly, hoping sleep would take away the pain.

It was midnight when Sylus came home. The house was silent. Dark. He placed his keys on the counter and walked into the bedroom, thinking you were asleep.

But faint sobs reached his ears, echoing from the bathroom.

“[y/n]…?” he called out softly as he approached the door.

He pushed it open–and froze.

You were there. Sitting curled up on the cold tiled floor, your back pressed against the bathtub. Your knees were drawn to your chest, your trembling hands smeared with blood as they clutched your belly. The floor beneath you was stained crimson. Your pajama shorts were soaked through.

Tears streamed down your face, your sobs quiet and broken.

“Sylus…” your voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and small. “It hurts… it hurts so much… Sylus…”

Panic clawed at his chest as he rushed to you, gathering you into his arms. Your body felt so small, so fragile, so cold.

“It’s okay… it’s okay, [y/n]… I’m here… I’m here now…” Sylus whispered, voice trembling. But the words tasted empty on his tongue.

He carried you to the car, ignoring his mother’s questions as she followed him out the door in confusion. He drove to the hospital, running every red light, his hands shaking around the wheel.

You were rushed into the emergency ward. Nurses surrounded you, their voices urgent yet professional.

“Ma’am, can you hear me? Stay with us.”

You cried silently, staring up at the bright white ceiling lights as tears slid down the sides of your face. Pain radiated through your abdomen like a knife twisting deeper and deeper.

Sylus tried to follow you into the room but a nurse stopped him. “Sir, please wait outside.”

He watched helplessly as the doors swung shut in his face.

Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days.

Finally, the doctor stepped out, removing his gloves with a quiet sigh. “Mr. Qin?”

Sylus stood immediately, his entire body tense.

“I’m sorry… your wife experienced a miscarriage. We did everything we could, but the baby… was already gone by the time you brought her here.”

Gone.

The word echoed in Sylus’s mind like a gunshot.

He felt his knees buckle. He stumbled back against the cold hospital wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, his hands trembling as he buried his face into his palms.

Gone… the baby is gone…

He clenched his fists into his hair, tugging harshly as tears fell freely. Guilt burned through his chest, hot and suffocating.

It’s my fault.

It’s all my fault.

If I stayed… if I just stayed with her… our baby… our baby would still be here…

His shoulders shook with silent sobs. The hallway was quiet, except for the distant beeping of heart monitors and the muffled cries coming from inside your room.

Inside, you lay curled up on the hospital bed, staring blankly at the IV drip beside you. Tears streamed down your face endlessly, soaking your pillow.

Your hands rested protectively over your now-empty belly, feeling hollow. Cold. Dead inside.

“It was supposed to be you and me… baby… just you and me…” you whispered, your voice cracking with grief. “I’m so sorry… I’m so… so sorry…”

You closed your eyes, wishing you would never wake up again.

Outside, Sylus sat with his back against the wall, eyes red and unfocused, his mind screaming the same words over and over.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry…

But no matter how many times he whispered it, the reality remained unchanged.

Because Sylus chose the past.

He chose his guilt.

He chose everyone else… except you.

And now, he had lost the future you carried within you.

Because he couldn’t even stay by your side…

When you needed him the most.

Author's note : Did i just wait for the wedding banner to comes out before posting this? diabolically yes. Also sylus came home early at 17 pulls!!

p.s i have no problem if you guys filled my comment section, i like reading all your thoughts and reaction when it comes to my stories! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃

Zayne's pov | the other side of the story

[Part 1]

You had always been the brightest part of Zayne’s life.

Three years. Three years of quiet breakfasts before dawn shifts, sleepy forehead kisses in the locker room, walking each other home under flickering streetlights. He wasn’t a man of words, but with you, he never needed them. You understood his silences. You understood him.

He had been planning it for months now. The proposal.

The ring sat in his desk drawer at Akso Hospital, hidden beneath files of bypass patients and transplant rosters. Platinum band, simple diamond—just like you. Understated, beautiful, eternal.

He was going to ask you to marry him after he saved MC.

MC. His childhood friend. Practically a little sister.

When she came in with her worsening heart condition, he felt responsible. She had no family left, no one to stay by her side. And Zayne… he was a doctor. He was her doctor. It was his duty to be there.

That day you walked in on them, the day everything shattered—

Zayne remembered the moment in blinding clarity.

“You should eat more vegetables.” he said, setting down MC’s lunch tray. It was bland, tailored for her condition, but necessary.

“Says the doctor who hates carrots,” MC teased, reaching out and flicking his wrist. Then she paused, silent for a moment, looking at him with unreadable eyes.

“Zayne… thank you. For always being here.”

“Of course.” He smiled faintly, busy checking her IV drip.

And then, without warning, her fingers curled around his collar and pulled him down. Her lips pressed against his. It lasted barely a second before Zayne jerked back, stunned.

“MC—what are you doing?” His voice was firm, almost cold.

That’s when the door opened. And there you were.

Your eyes widened. Your face crumpled with heartbreak before you turned and fled.

“Wait—[Name], it’s not what it looks like!”

He ran after you, his chest aching with panic. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to propose to you after MC’s surgery. After everything was calm again.

In the silent hallway, he grabbed your wrist. “Please—listen to me. Let me explain.”

“What is there to explain!?” you snapped, tears filling your eyes. “Does our three years together mean nothing to you, Zayne?”

“No—no, that’s not it. Please… don’t make me choose between you two.”

Because how could he choose between his entire world—you—and the life of a girl who saw him as her last hope? MC was family. She was a little sister, a patient. Someone he swore to save.

“Why? Because you’ll choose her…?”

Your voice trembled. Shattered. And he couldn’t find the words. He reached out, but you stepped back, the distance between you widening into a chasm that he couldn’t cross.

Afterwards, he went to MC’s room.

She sat up, clutching her sheets. “I’m sorry… I just… I thought maybe… you…”

Zayne shook his head. His eyes were cold, clinical. “Don’t misunderstand. You’re like a sister to me. I’m your doctor. My only responsibility is to save you. Nothing more.”

MC’s tears fell freely, but he didn’t comfort her. Because his heart belonged to only one person.

You.

Zayne planned to fix things after her surgery. To save MC’s life, clear the misunderstanding, and finally propose to you. He imagined kneeling before you in your shared apartment, holding the ring with trembling fingers, telling you everything he never said enough.

But fate was cruel.

“Where’s [Name]?” zayne asked immediately after the operation ended. Thanks to the last-minute donor, MC was stable. Her vitals strong. Relief flooded his body, because now—now he could go to you.

But the nurses wouldn’t meet his eyes. Dr. Greyson’s expression was tight with grief.

“Greyson. Where is she?” Zayne demanded, his voice trembling for the first time in years.

Greyson swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Come with me.”

They walked down the corridor in silence, each step echoing like a funeral march. When they entered the donor room, Zayne felt his chest tighten.

On the table lay a body covered in white sheets. He approached with shaking hands, gripping the edge before Greyson slowly pulled the blanket back.

And there you were.

Still. Silent. Beautiful, even in death.

“No… no, no, no, no—” Zayne choked, falling to his knees. He clutched your cold hand, tears splashing onto your pale skin. His thumb brushed the empty spot on your finger, the spot where he planned to place your ring.

He reached into his pocket with shaking fingers, pulling out the velvet box. Opening it, he slipped the ring onto your stiff hand, pressing his forehead against it as sobs tore through his chest.

“I was supposed to propose to you… I was supposed to spend forever with you…” His voice cracked. “Why… why did you leave thinking I didn’t love you? God… [Name], I love you. I love you so much.”

But it was too late.

No surgery could fix this. No time could undo this. You were the cut that always bleeds—and now, the wound would never close.

He loved you.

Zayne only loved you.

���𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲...

Author's note : so.. I don't think i made this angsty enough...

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃

zayne x non-mc

Sypnosis : At Akso Hospital, love is tested beneath the hum of fluorescent lights and the weight of unspoken words. You and Zayne, a brilliant but distant surgeon, have spent three years together—balancing careers, love, and sacrifice. But when his childhood friend is admitted as a critical patient, lines begin to blur, and hearts begin to break.

In a world where timing is cruel and silence speaks louder than truth, one choice will change everything.

You and Zayne had been together for almost three years. Three years of shared dreams, late-night shifts, fleeting kisses between surgeries, and quiet mornings when neither of you had the energy to speak. Everything was good—or at least, that’s what you believed.

Both of you were surgeons at Akso Hospital, living under the same fluorescent lights and constant beeping monitors. The job was demanding. But love... you always believed love found time, no matter how busy.

Zayne Li—the top surgeon in the hospital. Ebony hair, hazel green eyes, and a presence so composed it unnerved others. Starcatcher Awardee. Unshakable. Cold, some would say. But not to you. You knew him differently. Knew the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly after losing a patient, or how he watched the sunrise like it was the only soft thing left in this world.

But lately, that softness was no longer yours.

It shifted.

To her.

To MC.

She was young. Sweet. Talkative. Friendly. His childhood friend. And now—a patient. When she arrived with a heart condition, Zayne took it upon himself to be her personal doctor. No one questioned it. Of course he would.

And you didn’t either. Not at first.

“You should eat more vegetables,” Zayne said, setting down a tray of food beside MC’s bed.

“Says the doctor who hates carrots.” She laughed, pointing at him with her fork. “And don't think I forgot you hoarded all the sugar packets in the lounge.”

You stood in the hallway watching them—his smile. The way he leaned a little closer. The way her fingers touched his wrist casually, familiarly.

Yvonne, manning the front desk, turned to you with furrowed brows. “Don’t you think they’re… too close?” she asked quietly.

You forced a smile. “That’s nonsense. They’re just friends…”

But the words felt like ash on your tongue.

One night, you walked into MC’s room with a folder in hand.

“Zayne, can I—”

You stopped.

Your world stopped.

His lips were on hers.

He pulled away instantly when he saw you. “This—this isn’t what it looks like.”

You stared blankly. Cold rushed to your limbs. “I’m sorry if I bothered you,” you whispered, then turned away.

Zayne followed you into the quiet hallway. Midnight. Only a few nurses on night shift, none paying attention.

“[reader], wait, please—let me explain.”

“What is there to explain!?” you snapped.

“MC and I are just friends—” “It sure doesn’t look like that.” Your voice broke. “Do our three years together mean nothing to you?”

“No! Of course they do. I just—Please… don’t make me choose between you.”

That silenced everything.

You looked at him, tears trembling in your lashes. “Why? Because you’d choose her?”

And he said nothing.

MC’s condition worsened. The waiting list for a heart donor was long. Too long.

You saw her cry. You saw Zayne hold her, tell her he’d find a way.

And so, you made the decision for him.

“I have everything, don’t I?” you told Yvonne quietly, days later as you stood in the prep room. “I achieved my dream. I became a surgeon. I saved lives…”

You smiled faintly. “Maybe saving hers will be the last thing I do right.”

Yvonne choked back tears. So did Dr. Greyson. The nurses. All of them. Because they knew. They all knew what you were about to give up.

Six hours.

The operation was successful.

MC’s vitals were stable.

Applause echoed softly in the room—relieved sighs from nurses, notes scribbled into charts, another life saved. Zayne, still in his surgical scrubs, removed his gloves, sanitized, and walked out.

The first thing he asked was:

“Where’s [reader]?”

No one answered.

His eyes narrowed. He asked again. More firmly.

Greyson finally stepped forward.

“…zayne.. maybe you shouls follow me.."

Zayne was led into another room. The air felt wrong. Heavy. And then—he saw the surgical table. A body, still, beneath a white sheet.

And when the blanket was pulled away—

It was you.

It had always been you.

The donor.

The girlfriend he could never bring himself to choose.

Now gone.

Forever.

Zayne’s knees gave out beneath him. For once, the cold and stoic surgeon—broke.

𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱

𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴.

Author's note : zayne's pov was already written in my draft actually hehehe. also, i'm still in the process of writing sylus's story. penny for your thoughts, regarding this story?

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

Zayne x non-mc

Sypnosis : While co-parenting seems smooth on the surface, everything shifts when a new woman enters their lives—you. Though she masks it well, old wounds reopen as she watches the family she once had begin to take shape with someone else. In one cruel moment, she accuses the new woman of intentional harm—not out of truth, but out of fear that she’s losing everything she once let slip away.

𝗠𝗖'𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩

She used to believe that loving Zayne Li was inevitable.

He was brilliant, distant, methodical—so cold that it made you want to chase the heat buried underneath. And she did. She chased it, fought for it, until he finally let her in.

They didn’t mean to last long. Zayne warned her early: “My work will always come first.”

But passion has a way of rewriting boundaries.

And one night turned into months.

One accident turned into a child.

Aurora.

Her daughter.

The one thing in life MC never regretted.

But Zayne never proposed. Never promised. He was kind, responsible, always present for Aurora—but not for her.

When they separated, it was quiet. Clean.

There were no screaming matches. No final betrayals.

Just the slow realization that she was loving a man whose heart was always… somewhere else. In an operating room. In his silence.

Never with her.

They agreed to co-parent. And Zayne never once failed their daughter.

He was patient. Steady. There.

In a way that almost hurt more than if he had been cruel.

She thought she had buried it all.

But then you happened.

The new woman. The young one. The one Zayne introduced without fanfare, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t ask permission. He just said: “Aurora will need time to adjust. Be patient with her.”

MC nodded. She smiled.

But inside, something ugly twisted.

You weren’t malicious. You weren’t arrogant or overstepping.

You were too soft, if anything. Too eager. Too… hopeful.

That made it worse.

Maybe it started with little things.

Maybe she made small comments when Aurora asked about you.

“Oh, her? She’s not your mommy, baby. She doesn’t have to tell you what to do.”

“if you're uncomfortable, you don't have to interact with her."

She never told her daughter to hate you.

But she never told her to love you, either.

And Aurora, like any child caught between two worlds, listened.

Then came Family Day.

She noticed how you lingered at the edges. How you looked at Zayne when he wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t jealousy anymore—it was pity.

MC had lived in that exact space once. The quiet corner of his life. The afterthought.

She went to speak with Aurora’s teacher. Zayne stood by her side. For a moment, they looked like a family again.

Not because they were trying.

Just… because they used to be.

Then Aurora coughed as she dropped the ice cream.

The world exploded.

Panic. Screaming. Her child’s face going pale. Her throat swelling.

She ran.

And you?

You stood there—shaking, stunned, apologizing.

Zayne’s voice cut through:

“Shut up, [Reader].”

MC didn’t expect him to say that. But in that moment, she didn’t care. Aurora was all that mattered. She clung to the backseat of Zayne’s car as he sped toward Akso Hospital.

Aurora lived.

She was stable. Safe.

But MC saw the shift in Zayne the moment he realized you didn’t follow them.

And MC saw it. The regret.

The way his fingers tightened around his phone.

The way his mouth opened—but no words came out.

You left.

And MC should’ve felt relief. Should’ve felt like she won something.

But all she felt was guilt.

Because deep down… she knew Aurora didn’t dislike you on her own.

Not entirely.

She had planted that seed.

And now that seed had bloomed into silence.

Zayne didn’t speak for hours. Didn’t look at her.

His mind was somewhere else entirely.

Chasing after someone he might’ve finally lost for good.

And in that moment, it hit her:

Zayne was always so careful. So composed.

But with you?

He wasn’t just in love.

He was unprepared to lose you.

Mc didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to.

Because that was the first time she realized—

No matter how much of her past they shared,

Zayne Li had already chosen his future.

And she might’ve played a part in chasing it away.

𝗔𝘂𝗿𝗼𝗿𝗮'𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘃

Aurora didn’t think her family was broken.

She had two parents. They both loved her.

Her friends sometimes said stuff like “My mommy and daddy live together!” and Aurora would blink and say “Oh. Mine don’t.” Like it wasn’t a big deal.

Because it wasn’t.

Her mom had a house with yellow curtains and a big bed they cuddled in during movie nights.

Her dad had a neat apartment that smelled like clean soap and cold coffee. They played board games. He made her toast shaped like stars.

And whenever she got sick or had a performance or cried really hard because the class goldfish died, they both showed up.

Together.

So no. Her family wasn’t broken.

It was just… different.

Then you came along.

You were new. Not scary. Just… new.

You smiled a lot. Talked to her like she was a real person, not a baby. You called her kiddo and sunbeam and you once made pancakes that were shaped like a cat but looked more like a hat.

Aurora giggled anyway.

You tried really hard. She could tell. Even when she ignored you.

Even when she pulled her hand away. Even when she said things like “My mommy says I don’t have to like you.”

You never got mad.

You just blinked, kind of sad, and went, “That’s okay. I’ll like you enough for the both of us.” It made her chest feel weird. Not good. Not bad. Just weird.

Sometimes Aurora wondered if she was being mean.

You didn’t do anything wrong.

You brought her stickers. You always asked before brushing her hair or sitting next to her on the couch. You once cried when her tooth fell out and she told you it didn’t hurt but you still panicked and called her dad.

You cared.

So why didn’t she like you?

Maybe… maybe it was because she was scared.

Because if she liked you too much, would that mean her mom would be sad?

Would that mean she didn’t love her enough?

Her mom never said those things.

But kids hear things. Feel them.

And sometimes her mom’s voice got quiet when she talked about you. Not angry. Just tight. Like swallowing a lemon.

Family Day.

Aurora was so excited. She got to wear her favorite dress with sunflowers. Her mom packed her lunch. Her dad fixed her braid.

You came too. You stood far away at first, which she liked.

Then she saw you watching them. Her and her parents.

You looked… small. Like a balloon no one was holding.

Aurora saw her classmate asking their parents to buy them ice cream.. but both of her parents were away, talking with her teacher, so she went to you, tugging on your sleeve.

She wanted to share it with you. Maybe that would make your face look happy again.

But then her throat hurt. Her chest got tight.

Everything became loud and scary.

She remembered coughing. Dropping the cone. Your voice calling her name.

Then her dad scooped her up. Her mom was shouting.

She turned her head and saw you—

Standing there.

All alone.

People were staring. Some were whispering.

And you weren’t blinking. Like you were frozen. Like someone had unplugged all your color and left you grey.

She wanted to say something.

But the world faded before she could.

The hospital lights are cold and the bed smells weird.

Aurora wakes up and blinks at the ceiling.

Her mom is asleep on the chair. Her dad is standing near the window, holding a coffee he hasn’t sipped.

You’re not there.

You’re always there.

So why aren’t you?

She remembers the last thing she saw. Your eyes. The way you looked like everyone had shouted at you with their eyes.

She remembers hearing her parents talking when they thought she was sleeping.

“She left..."

Her dad looked so strange. Like he wasn’t breathing right. Like he forgot how.

Aurora stares at the IV in her hand. Tries not to cry.

Her chest feels funny again. That weird tight feeling.

Maybe it’s because she was mean.

Maybe it’s because she said she didn’t like you.

Maybe it’s because she let everyone think you didn’t care.

Maybe that’s why you left.

maybe it’s her fault.

and aurora doesn't know how to fix something that can't be fix using drawings or band-aids.

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.

Zayne x non-mc reader

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Zayne never planned to fall in love again—not with a life already split between surgery, a daughter, and a woman he used to love. But then you came into my life—warm, patient, stubbornly kind. You tried to fit into a space that was never designed for you, and he let you believe he'd protect you in it. Until the day zayne failed you.

𝗭𝗔𝗬𝗡𝗘'𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗩

He never expected to fall for you.

Not when he was already balancing a career that left him sleep-deprived and aching, a co-parenting arrangement with someone who knew him too well, and a daughter whose trust was hard-won and fragile.

But you came in quietly. With warmth he hadn’t realized he missed, and a kind of patience he didn’t deserve.

From the start, he was honest.

“I have a daughter,” he told you. “And I co-parent with her mother.”

Your eyes had widened, but you hadn’t run. Instead, you smiled that small, unsure smile and nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”

He had expected resentment. Hesitation. What he got instead was effort.

You tried—to connect with Aurora, to get to know MC, to fit into a life that already had deeply rooted corners.

You stayed up when he came home late. Waited quietly during his calls with the hospital. Left notes and packed sweets in his briefcase because you knew he couldn’t sleep, and sugar kept him grounded.

And he noticed all of it.

He just… didn’t know how to show it.

Zayne loved in subtleties. In extra blankets, in watching over you silently when you got sick, in making sure your side of the bed was always warm.

But you wanted more. Time. Presence. And recently, you started asking for it.

“Zayne… do you think we could go out next Saturday?”

He was tired. Bone-deep. The surgery had already been scheduled for weeks. “I’m sorry. I have a procedure that day.”

“Then how about Sunday?” you asked again.

“Aurora has family day. She asked me to be there…” He tried to keep his voice gentle. “You understand, right?”

He could already feel you shrinking. But he didn’t know how to balance both worlds. And when you finally said, “…What about me?”

Something in him snapped.

“What about you? That’s nonsense. We live together. You see me every day.”

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth.

He always regretted it.

And so, as always, he apologized later. Took your hand. Promised to make it up to you. Told himself he'd do better.

Sunday came.

Zayne didn’t want to leave you behind. That’s why he brought you.

Maybe this time Aurora would warm up. Maybe this time the three of you could all exist in the same room without the air feeling too full.

And for a while, it seemed like things might shift.

MC was pleasant. Aurora was laughing. And you—his girlfriend—was trying so hard not to look out of place.

Zayne didn’t miss it, though. The way you stood on the sidelines.

Always just outside the frame.

He felt a pang of guilt—but then the teacher called him and MC over to sign something. He squeezed your shoulder before he left. A silent, "I'll be right back."

Then came the screaming.

The panic.

Aurora choking.

Zayne rushed over and immediately took in the scene: dropped ice cream. Wheezing breath. MC frantic. His girlfriend, wide-eyed and trembling.

“She gave her ice cream—she’s allergic to dairy!”

MC’s voice cracked, and so did Zayne’s sense of control.

He turned to the woman he trusted. The one he brought here, the one he loved. “Zayne, I didn’t know—”

“Shut up, [Reader].”

It came out harsher than he meant. But in that moment, all he could see was his child struggling to breathe.

He didn’t stop to explain. Just held Aurora close and made sure she was okay, rushing to the car, MC beside him. Priorities. Always. Aurora first.

Zayne didn’t realize until much later—when Aurora was stable, when MC had stopped crying, and the adrenaline had drained from his limbs—that he hadn’t checked his phone.

A single message from you.

> “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I never would’ve hurt her. I’m going home. I’ll get my things tomorrow.”

His stomach dropped.

You left.

And he had no idea if you were coming back.

Zayne sank into the hospital hallway bench, running a scarred hand through his hair.

He didn't even know what hurt more—Aurora’s wheezing cries still echoing in his ears, or the image of you walking away, believing you didn’t belong in a life he asked you to be part of.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : soo.. here's the thing, to those of you asking where the hell is their epipen, blame me. i forgot those thing exist. i mean, i have allergy too, but it's only mild one that can be relieved by meds. so when you guys in the comment started asking for the epipen, i was like, oh shit i forgot those thing exist ahahahaha but you know what? Let's just go with the flow lol also no, non-mc won't end up with other li. And i'm going to make sylus's ver. of this hehehe

Lastly, this is my first time doing this but—should i do mc's pov?

@animegamerfox @quillsanddaggers @sillyfreakfanparty @moonchildjae00 @nm4565natty @nommingonfood @erisnxxi @severedeancashpanda @gojoswaterbottle @zarakem @autumn2534 @calistaxoxo24 to others who asked to be tagged, idk why but i can't tag some of you guys, i'm sorry 😓

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.

Zayne x non-mc, angst because that's all i'm good at lol

𝑺𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔 : Dating a renowned cardiac surgeon was never meant to be easy—but falling in love with a man who already has a child and a history he never quite let go of? That’s something else entirely. Caught between hospital corridors and family day events, you tries to find your place in Zayne’s world—until one mistake shatters the fragile balance, and you're forced to ask yourself the question that’s haunted you from the start: did you ever meant to belong?

Being a surgeon’s girlfriend is already difficult—but what if your boyfriend also has a child with his ex?

When you first started dating Zayne, he didn’t hide anything. He told you about her—MC—and their daughter, Aurora. You were stunned for two reasons:

One, that Zayne Li, of all people, was dating you.

And two, that he had a child out of wedlock.

Still, you told yourself you could handle it. That you would try.

But no matter how hard you tried to be close to Aurora, she would quietly slip away. No tantrums, no words—just cold avoidance. At first, you told yourself she was only six. She couldn't possibly be hostile, right?

Zayne often brought you along to see her. Said it would help. You played along. Even MC was polite, if a little…off. You told yourself it was nerves—maybe jealousy. Or maybe it was just you, trying to ignore the invisible thread that still seemed to tie her and Zayne together. The shared child. The memories. The easy familiarity.

One evening, while sitting across from Zayne at his house, you hesitated before speaking.

“Zayne… do you think we could go out next Saturday?” your voice was soft, almost reluctant.

He was just returning from work, undoing his coat and sinking into the couch with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry. I have a scheduled surgery that day.”

You nodded, then asked again, a little more hopeful, “Then… how about Sunday?”

Zayne leaned his head back and rubbed a hand down his face. “Aurora has a family day at school on Sunday. She asked me to be there... You understand, right?”

You did. You always did. But this time, something inside you pushed back.

“…But you’re always busy,” you said quietly. “If not at the hospital, you’re with them. What about me?”

“What about you?” Zayne said sharply, straightening. “That’s nonsense. We live together—you see me every day.”

And just like that, the silence cracked into an argument.

But it never lasted long. Zayne, as always, came back to you hours later—apologetic, calm, promising to make it up to you. And he meant it. He always meant it.

So here you were, at Aurora’s school on a cold winter Sunday—Family Day.

Zayne brought you along again. Said it would help. Said it mattered.

You stood on the sidelines, watching him and MC playing with Aurora.

They looked so natural together. Laughing, moving in sync, fitting into the same frame like a picture that had never been taken apart. Aurora was radiant between them. And Zayne… he looked so happy.

They looked like a perfect family.

And you?

You were the stain on the canvas. The outsider in the photograph.

You flinched slightly when you felt a small tug on your sleeve. Aurora stood beside you, looking up and pointing at a nearby ice cream truck.

You blinked, surprised. She’d never approached you before.

“You want that? Okay, let’s get you one,” you said gently, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest. Maybe… just maybe, this was a start.

But the moment shattered in an instant.

Aurora began coughing violently—ice cream falling from her hand, her little fingers clawing at her throat as she struggled to breathe.

Panic consumed you. “Aurora?”

Zayne and MC rushed over immediately. You fumbled for words, heart racing, explaining what happened—but you barely got a sentence out before MC’s face twisted in alarm.

“She’s allergic to dairy!” MC cried, snatching Aurora from your side. Her eyes were wide with fear—and something else. Accusation.

“I— I didn’t know—” you stammered, heart racing. You were shaking. You didn’t know.

“She’s six! You should’ve asked!” she snapped, voice cracking with panic. “I know Aurora doesn’t like you—but you didn’t have to do this! Was it really that bad? That you had to—” Tears welled up in her eyes as people began to gather, murmuring, whispering. Judging.

You turned to Zayne, desperate. “Zayne, I swear—I didn’t know—”

“Shut up, [Reader].”

The words hit you harder than anything else. His voice was sharp. Cold. And worse, disappointed.

Zayne never yelled. Never lost control. And now, he couldn’t even look at you.

He scooped Aurora into his arms, MC following close behind. And without another glance in your direction, they left—getting into his car and driving away.

You stood there, frozen. Surrounded by strangers with pointed eyes and low murmurs.

They didn’t know you. And yet… they were already judging.

And somehow, you didn’t blame them.

Because in that moment, as the wind bit at your skin and your heartbeat rang in your ears—

You knew the truth.

You didn’t belong here.

You never did.

Author's note : comments is very much appreciated! i like reading your comments and also, should i do a part 2? zayne's pov, maybe.

[a-casxandra]

𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 : 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘅𝗶𝗮.

Anorexia is an eating disorder that causes people to weigh less than is considered healthy for their age and height, usually by excessive weight loss. People with this disorder may have an intense fear of weight gain, even when they are underweight.

★｡+ﾟ☆ XAVIER ☆ﾟ+｡★

Xavier doesn’t show panic—he never does. But when he finds out, it’s not through words.

It’s when you faint during a routine errand. He catches you before you hit the ground. “You’re cold… and light.”

The vitals don’t lie. He does the calculations in his head. Pulse. Weight. Skin pallor.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. He simply begins observing you more.

Then one night, as you're curled up, avoiding dinner, he asks softly: “Are you... trying to disappear?”

No judgment. Just painful, distant gentleness.

“I noticed. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

He starts researching silently behind your back—treatment, psychological triggers, recovery resources in deepspace environments.

He doesn’t confront. He stays. In his quiet, consistent way, making sure there’s always something warm by your side, making sure you're seen.

And if you ever look into his eyes—you’ll see the heartbreak he never verbalizes.

★｡+ﾟ☆ ZAYNE ☆ﾟ+｡★

Zayne is a surgeon. He’s seen the signs before. He missed it in you because he trusted you to tell him.

So when he finds the nutritional deficiency reports from a scan you did quietly at another clinic—

His hands shake.

You come home to silence. He’s sitting at the table, your medical file open beside him.

“You weren’t going to tell me?”

His voice is calm. Too calm. The kind that hides a storm.

“How long have you been starving yourself in silence while I slept next to you?" He’s furious—not at you, but at himself for missing it. At the disease. At the fact that he should have known better.

He puts you on a treatment plan instantly—measured, gentle, structured. He checks in at every meal but never pressures. And when he finally does hold you, his voice cracks for the first time.

“I would rather hold a heavier version of you for the rest of my life… than bury a weightless version of you tomorrow.”

★｡+ﾟ☆ RAFAYEL ☆ﾟ+｡★

Rafayel notices. He always notices. But he jokes first—calling you “his little ghost,” or teasing your shrinking waist.

Until he sees the way your ribs show even when you breathe.

Until you start saying "I'm not hungry" every day.

He tries to deny it. Paints you laughing in color. Feeds you sweets. Begs you to just “eat a little for him.”

But when he catches you secretly throwing up a meal you barely touched—

He doesn’t joke.

“Is that why you won’t let me touch you anymore?”

You expect him to leave. He doesn’t. He sits on the floor outside the bathroom door, forehead against the wall.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because you were thin. I fell in love with your soul. And now I’m watching it disappear.”

He becomes annoyingly attentive. Makes breakfast and sits with you until you take a bite. Talks to you during meals to distract the guilt. Cries in the shower because he doesn’t know what else to do.

But he stays.

And every time you eat—even a little—he lights up like it’s a victory.

★｡+ﾟ☆ SYLUS ☆ﾟ+｡★

Sylus finds out because his people monitor everything.

You don’t tell him. You can’t.

But one day, he puts a folder on the table.

Your weight stats. Recent purchases. Search history. The skipped medical appointments.

“You didn’t think I’d find out, kitten?"

You try to laugh it off. You tell him it's not that serious.

He grabs your wrist—gently—and holds it up.

“You think I want a queen who’s vanishing in front of me?” He’s angry. Not at you, but at the world that made you believe you had to be less to be worthy.

He cancels every plan. Has your kitchen stocked with real food. He sits there while you eat, never forcing, just... waiting.

And when you break down one night, trembling, afraid he’ll leave—

He cups your face, red eyes sharp.

“You could burn the world down and I’d still crawl back to you. Don’t you dare destroy yourself.”

★｡+ﾟ☆ CALEB ☆ﾟ+｡★

Caleb knows something’s off when you start pulling away every time he touches your waist.

He teases you less. Then not at all.

One day, he opens your bathroom drawer by accident and finds a bottle of laxatives.

Then he sees the skipped meals. The clothes getting looser. The light fading in your voice.

He doesn’t accuse.

He hugs you. Just holds you for minutes.

"Pipsqueak, I don’t care how small you get. You’ll never be too little for my arms.”

He reads everything he can on anorexia. Talks to counselors. He starts cooking meals with you. Makes a game out of sharing bites.

He’s endlessly patient.

But when you try to dismiss it as “just a phase,” he grabs your hands and presses them to his chest.

“You’re breaking my heart every time you choose not to eat. And I’ll keep loving you, even if you can't love yourself right now.”

[a-casxandra]

Read your caleb and raf's works and i was like "what if caleb's non-mc ended up with an artist who's not afraid to love her out loud and shower her in love not caring who's seeing or not?" and "what if raf's non-mc ended up with an airspace military who's always making sure he gives her the best of his time and affection?" 🤭🤭 Just an idea but also i guess xavier and sylus could show up instead of just exchanging the boys lol anyway, whatever u do in the end i know it will be good!!! Excited for part 3 🤩

❝𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇❞

𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 | 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒏𝒐𝒏-𝒎𝒄)

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 | 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒏𝒐𝒏-𝒎𝒄)

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 : In a story of emotional maturity, quiet healing, and soft second chances, four hearts that once loved wrong learn to love right—this time, with the ones who choose them fully.

You weren't expecting to stay long. The gallery was packed, and while you loved art, the kind of elite, curated atmosphere tonight gave you a headache. But a friend’s invitation and an open evening led you there anyway.

You stood in front of a painting that made your stop.

The colors were soft—dusky purples and muted blues—and it felt like standing in the memory of a storm that had finally passed.

“I didn’t think anyone would understand that piece,” came a voice behind her. Familiar, husky. Softer than you remembered.

You turned.

Rafayel.

He looked different. Not physically—still beautiful in that effortless, actor way—but realer. No cameras. No MCs clinging to his side. No fake smiles. Just a man standing in front of a painting he bled into.

“I do,” you said, voice calm. “Because I painted something just like it once.”

You both ended up sitting on the museum steps after the event. “I’m not here to complicate anything,” Rafayel said, gently. “I just… wanted to talk. You seemed peaceful. Like someone who knows where she’s going.”

“I used to love a man who couldn’t choose me,” You replied. “And I used to let that define me.”

He looked away, ashamed. “Me too. I was that man. I chose comfort, familiarity. I chose someone I had history with… instead of the person who was right in front of me, trying to love me properly.”

You studied him. “And now?”

“Now…” he said, looking at you, eyes clearer than you remembered, “I’m done choosing wrong.”

Rafayel started showing up.

Not in dramatic ways—no paparazzi, no grand romantic gestures. Just simple, quiet consistency.

He’d text you after every small showcase you did.

He showed up to your pop-up art fair in a hoodie and cap, bought one of your least popular pieces because “it made him feel something ugly and real.”

One day, he said it outright.

“I don’t want to hide anymore. Not behind fame. Not behind roles. Not behind the excuse of an old flame.”

You tilted your head. “Why tell me that?”

“Because I want you to know,” he said, stepping closer, “that if I ever get to call you mine, I’ll never make you feel like a secret.”

It wasn’t even planned.

Both of you were just at a small coastal town for an art retreat—You were sketching on the shore, Rafayel was helping kids paint seagulls. A passerby snapped a photo.

By the time you were back in the city, the picture was viral.

“Is that Rafayel with his girlfriend?? An artist?? Not MC??”

Everyone expected him to deny it. Or stay silent, like he used to.

Instead, he posted the photo himself.

Captioned:

“Healing doesn’t look like cameras. It looks like this. Her.” —R

Rafayel kissed you before a gallery show—not backstage, but in the middle of the floor. With guests, curators, and media watching.

“I don’t care if they’re watching,” Rafayel murmured. “I spent too long caring what they thought.”

You smiled, brushing paint off his cheek. “You’ve grown.”

“I had to,” he whispered, holding your hand. “To be someone worthy of standing beside you.”

And this time, when he smiled—he wasn’t acting.

The quiet clinking of coffee cups and the mellow hum of jazz music filled the air at the rooftop café. It was mid-autumn, golden light washing over the city below. You hadn’t planned to be there—her friend bailed last minute, and you decided to stay anyway, alone with your tea and a book you barely touched.

You were healing. And that included learning how to sit in your own silence.

Then you heard his voice.

Deep, calm, and apologetic.

“…Sorry—do you mind if I sit here? The other seats are full.”

You looked up, startled. And there he was.

Caleb. In a dark turtleneck, a wool coat draped over his arm. He looked different—less polished, more real. You blinked, heart hesitating, unsure if fate was playing a cruel joke.

“…Go ahead,” you said softly.

You both sat. Two people who knew hurt. Who had once been background characters in someone else’s story.

Both of you didn't speak much at first. A polite nod here, a small comment about the weather there.

Then came the storm—sudden downpour, the sky cracking open. Everyone rushed inside, but Caleb stayed behind, helping you gather your things.

“You forgot this,” he said, handing you the book you left on the table.

You paused. “Thank you.”

“I remember you,” he said then, quietly. “From that night. At Rafayel’s wrap party. You were wearing navy.”

Your breath got caught. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I didn’t know how not to notice you,” he admitted, eyes steady. “I just… didn’t know how to look at someone new while I was still clinging to old mistakes.”

Both of you started seeing each other more.

No grand gestures. Just consistent ones.

Caleb invited you to small things—coffee in the morning, walking his dog, reading in the park.

There were no secrets. No avoiding the topic of MC. In fact, he told you about her on the third time you met.

“I used to let her take up all the space in my life,” he said. “Even when I had her (backburner's non-mc) right in front of me. I didn’t know how to choose someone properly, but, I do now.”

You, who had once watched your ex, Rafayel not let go of another woman in front of cameras, felt something settle in her chest. Something soft.

One night, You were about to leave his place after dinner, slipping into your coat when Caleb suddenly stopped you at the door.

“Don’t go,” he said. “I don’t want to be the kind of man who lets people leave anymore.”

You blinked up at him.

“I know what it’s like to love someone who always chooses someone else,” Caleb said, voice hoarse. “You won’t be hidden with me. You won’t be second. You stay—if you want to.”

You didn't reply with words. You just stepped out of your shoes and walked back inside.

This time, love wasn’t loud. It wasn’t desperate or showy.

It simply stayed.

[© : "Labyrinth," a song from Taylor Swift's Midnights album, explores the anxieties and complexities of falling in love again after experiencing heartbreak.]

[a-casxandra]

❝𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗠𝗘.❞

Caleb x you [non-mc] | Caleb x mc

𝑺𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔 : After the war ends and the world is declared wanderer-free, you wait for the man who promised to return—Caleb, your over and a colonel with gravity powers. But he never comes back. Years later, you finally met again.. but things were different. He's Alive. Older. With no memory of you. Now, watching him smile at another, living the life you once dreamed of, you're left with only one question: 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗶𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱—𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀?

"Do you really have to go?"

Your voice barely carries through the heavy silence of your shared quarters. You sit on the edge of the bed, hands trembling, knuckles white as you clutch his glove. Caleb turns at the door—tall, imposing in his colonel’s uniform—yet softened by the tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you.

You already talked about this. Pleaded. Asked him to resign. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

“This is my duty,” he’d said. “My dream. I want to protect you—so you could live without having to worry about wanderers. to everyone else too."

You remember how his arms wrapped around you that night. How he whispered promises against your skin. "I’ll come back to you. I always do."

So you let him go.

And you waited.

The world descended into chaos. Wanderers roamed freely, grotesque echoes of corrupted Evol energy. Evolvers fought back—Caleb among them. The government ordered a lockdown. Civilians were instructed not to interfere. Rations were delivered. Streets emptied. Skies darkened.

But you waited.

Weeks became months. Months turned into years.

You blamed yourself more often than not.

You were powerless—just a civilian. No Evol, no strength, no use.

All you could do was survive.

All you could do was wait.

Then, the world declared itself Wanderer-Free.

The war was won. The streets opened again.

And Caleb...

Didn’t come back.

You went to the Farspace Fleet. Demanded answers.

They told you he was missing. Then, days later—presumed dead.

Just another name on a long list of the lost.

You didn’t believe it. You refused to believe it.

You waited still.

Two Decades Later – Winter, Linkon City

You’re 42 now. You look it too—lines softening your once-youthful face, silver threads starting to braid into your long, uncut hair. Hair he once trimmed for you. You never let anyone else touch it.

People asked you to move on. Some even tried to love you. You turned them away.

How could you let go of a love that never said goodbye?

Then you met her—MC.

A kind woman who recently moved to Linkon City. Around your age. Warm-hearted. Glowed when she spoke of her son, and her husband.

You liked her. You liked the boy, too. Ten years old. Bright eyes.

But the first time you saw him, your heart stuttered.

He looked familiar. Too familiar.

You told yourself it was just your imagination.

Today – Outside the Library

“Mom! Dad is here!” the boy calls out as he runs toward the man waiting by the curb.

MC laughs. “Ah, my dear’s here.”

She turns to you. “Come! Let me introduce you—this is my husband—”

Your world stops.

“Caleb...?”

You don’t mean to say it aloud. But it spills from your lips before you can catch it.

The man—taller, older, refined with age but unmistakably him—blinks, puzzled. “Do we… know each other?”

MC tilts her head. “Oh? You two know each other?”

You force a shaky smile, swallowing the sob clawing at your throat. “...Childhood friends,” you lie. “We were childhood friends.”

Caleb’s brows knit slightly, and then he offers a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry… I had amnesia. During the war. Some memories never came back. If we were close… I’m sorry I can’t remember.”

MC gasps softly. “That’s unexpected… but what a small world.” She beams at you. “I’m so glad you found someone from your past!”

Caleb smiles, warmer now. “It’s good to know I still have connections here. Even if I don’t remember them.”

“Maa! Let’s go home! It’s cold!”

The child tugs at his sleeve. Caleb chuckles and bends to lift him into his arms.

He turns to you one last time.

“Nice to meet you… again, I guess.”

And just like that, he walks away. Hand in hand with his wife. With their son.

With your dreams.

You stand frozen in place, the ghost of his smile seared into your memory.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see you again,”

you whisper, but your voice trembles. Cracks.

You don’t move, even as their silhouettes blur into the snowfall.

He’s alive. Caleb is alive.

And he doesn’t remember you.

He built a new life. New love. New child.

You should’ve been in her place. It should’ve been your family.

But you can’t hate her.

She didn’t steal him—she simply loved him in your absence.

And he…

He loved her the same way he once loved you.

And so, beneath the heavy silence of winter: “Maybe it’s time I accept the changes…” you whispered, as snow began to fall. But the wind carried no answer.

Just silence.

And still—you waited.

Not for him.

But for the day it would stop hurting.

You were once his future.

Now you’re just a whisper from a forgotten past.

And fate, cruel as ever, let you live to remember it.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i just lost caleb to zayne, and i'm legit crying. because i already didn't got sylus's "where the heart lives" (i started playing during sylus's bday) and now i also didn't get caleb's birthday "no return night" so yeah, i'm gonna be petty and write caleb angst because i didn't get him.

[a-casxandra]

𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧!? part 2

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐧 : reacting to you having cryptic pregnancy—when the baby comes out looking exactly like them. and what i think they will name their child.

a cryptic pregnancy also known as stealth or hidden pregnancy, occurs when a woman is unaware that she is pregnant, until late in the pregnancy, sometimes even until labor begins. This can happen for various reasons, including a lack of typical pregnancy symptoms, misinterpretation of symptoms, or denial of pregnancy

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ☆ﾟ+｡★

Xavier blinks slowly, staring at the baby with a quiet intensity. Her silver hair glimmers under the hospital lights, and her soft blue eyes flutter open—an exact mirror of his own.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just reaches out, awkwardly cradling her in his arms, brows furrowed as if analyzing a new constellation. After a long silence, he murmurs in his usual soft, monotone voice:

“She looks like me… That’s statistically unlikely.”

pauses.

“I want to name her Astrea. She feels like a star I’ve been chasing... and finally found.”

Xavier falls asleep sitting up, still holding her protectively.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ☆ﾟ+｡★

He’s frozen for a moment. The moment he lays eyes on her hazel-green eyes and black hair—his exact features in miniature—something sharp and overwhelming pierces through his stoic facade.

Zayne presses his palm to his face briefly, then laughs under his breath. “So this is what you were hiding, huh?”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Aurora. Let’s call her that. Like the aurora we saw that night—the one you said looked like a promise.”

And with her tiny hand gripping his pinky, zayne realizes this is the one patient he’d give anything to never let go of.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ☆ﾟ+｡★

His jaw drops dramatically. Then he gasps.

“Wait—she’s me. Look! The eyes! The hair!” grins, practically vibrating with energy.

“She’s so pretty… She’s literally my twin. Oh, you’re gonna be trouble, little siren.”

Rafayel bounces on his heels, pulling you into a clumsy but emotional hug.

“We’re calling her Serena. Like serenity, but also like a mermaid. It’s perfect, right? My little Serena...”

Then he cries a little. Drama king.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ☆ﾟ+｡★

Sylus goes quiet. Too quiet. His usual arrogant smirk falters as he stares down at the child in your arms.

Red eyes. Silver-white hair. His features, to the finest detail.

“…Well, I can’t exactly deny she’s mine, can I?” He chuckles softly, but there's a rare softness in his voice.

“Tch. You’re going to be even more dangerous than your father.” Sylus brushes her cheek with the back of his finger, eyes never leaving hers.

“Lilith. Her name’s Lilith. A name befitting a queen born from chaos.”

And for the first time, he looks like someone who has something to lose.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ☆ﾟ+｡★

He's pacing. Nervous. Hands on his hips, eyes wide. But the moment he sees her—dark brown hair, purple eyes—his knees almost give out.

Caleb walks over slowly, crouches beside the bed, and touches her tiny hand. “You’re kidding me… She’s… mine.” turns to you, eyes glassy.

“I wasn’t ready. But I think I love her more than anything I’ve ever flown.”

Caleb picks her up with surprising confidence, pressing her to his chest. “Let’s name her Skylor. Sky, for short. She’ll always have the sky watching over her. Just like I watched over you.”

And he doesn't let go.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i don't know how will i design caleb's cake, so i decided to put everything. and yes, i'm one of those sylus's girlie that made dragon for his birthday cake.

[a-casxandra]

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕! 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎! 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒔, 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐. 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒐𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ☆ﾟ+｡★

𝗥𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗬𝗘𝗟

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚎 [Part 2 , Part 3, Last part]

𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗕

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛 [Part 2, Part 3, Last part]

𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚖𝚎

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 | 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚟

𝗭𝗔𝗬𝗡𝗘

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚝𝚠𝚘-𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 [Part 2, Last Part.]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍 [Last Part]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 | 𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚟

𝗦𝗬𝗟𝗨𝗦

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 [Part 2] [Last part]

𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗠𝗘𝗡

Imagine; cryptic pregnancy

Imagine; when the child looks like them pt.2

Imagine; when they found out you have anorexia

Sword to flowers

[a-casxandra]

𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧!?

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐧 : reacting to you having cryptic pregnancy.

a cryptic pregnancy also known as stealth or hidden pregnancy, occurs when a woman is unaware that she is pregnant, until late in the pregnancy, sometimes even until labor begins. This can happen for various reasons, including a lack of typical pregnancy symptoms, misinterpretation of symptoms, or denial of pregnancy.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ☆ﾟ+｡★

You’re both just finished a mission and was on the way to the hunter's association, when you double over in pain. You think it’s food poisoning. He calmly carries you before teleporting immediately to the medical wings inside the hunter's association.

Reaction:

At first? Deadpan calm.

“...You’re giving birth. That’s what this is.” He says it like he’s reading it from a technical manual, but his grip on your hand tightens.

Internally, he’s going through every medical protocol stored in his deepspace hunter database. He’s weirdly efficient, guiding the doctors, not letting go of you even once, but he keeps asking:

“Do you want water? Are you afraid? Should I hold your hand?”

Even after the baby arrives, he’ll just stare at it with blank confusion, then gently say:

“It’s... small. Like you.”

Then promptly falls asleep holding your hand, because the shock finally hits him post-event.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ☆ﾟ+｡★

Irony of ironies—you’re in his hospital, and he’s on a break when it happens. You clutch your stomach, and he immediately runs to you. Zayne kneels beside you, immediately goes full doctor-mode—except he’s not calm.

“Where does it hurt? How long has it been—shit, your pulse is spiking.”

He gets you to the ER fast, barking instructions at the med team even though he knows he shouldn’t be interfering. When they tell him you’re in labor?

“That’s not—there’s no way. That’s not possible. We would've seen it. I would've known.”

He’s shaken. All logic, all science he believes in—thrown out the window. But the second he sees the baby placed in your arms, the tears he didn’t realize were there finally spill.

Later, when it’s quiet, he touches the baby's cheek and murmurs:

“I missed everything… but I’m not missing anything else.”

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ☆ﾟ+｡★

You’re at an art exhibit he’s hosting. You collapse in pain, and he freaks out so dramatically that half the press thinks it's performance art.

Rafayel panics. Loudly. hands fumbling, as he tried calling for ambulance.... too bad he's too panicking that he actually called the coast guard instead.

“What’s happening to her?! Do something! You’re doctors—aren’t you supposed to save lives?"

Once told you’re in labor, his first reaction?

“That’s impossible. I’d know, wouldn’t I?!” But then he’s by your side, holding your hand, tears in his eyes even before the baby arrives.

“I didn’t even get to talk to them in your belly... I feel like I missed everything.”

Once the baby cries? He cries too.

And don’t expect him to leave your hospital bed. He’ll cuddle both you and the baby like a sea otter protecting its whole world.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ☆ﾟ+｡★

You’re helping him review maps of the N109 zone when you double over. You think it’s something you ate. You’re trying to tough it out—until you start bleeding.

He freezes. Just for a split second.

Then he carries you bridal-style through Onychinus HQ like a war just started. If anyone even blinks wrong, he growls:

“Out of my way or die.”

At the hospital, Sylus glares at the doctors, knives in his voice:

“If anything happens to her, I’ll tear this place apart.”

Once he learns it’s a birth? He does not compute.

“...We didn’t even know. Kitten, How the hell did this happen?”

But he doesn’t leave your side. When the baby comes, he just stands over it silently... before muttering:

“You’ll take after her. Not me.”

And then wraps you and the baby in his jacket like it’s armor.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ☆ﾟ+｡★

You’re watching a Farspace Fleet training session when you suddenly cry out in pain. Caleb catches you before you hit the ground.

Instant military mode. Barks orders. Clears the area. Escorts you to medical like he’s carrying precious cargo.

“She’s in pain. Do your jobs.”

When told you're in labor? his eyes widen. For once, Caleb is silent.

Once he’s alone with you though? His voice softens.

“Pipsqueak.. You’re really about to give birth, huh? I didn’t see it coming… but I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

He holds your hand through every contraction, whispering encouragement, wiping your tears.

And when the baby’s born? He crumbles.

“They’re perfect. You’re perfect. You did this all by yourself… I’m sorry I wasn’t there before, but I will be now. For everything.”

[it's my first time writing a reaction/imagine thingy. Should i do a part 2, when the baby comes out looking exactly like them?]

[a-casxandra]

I seriously love your writings both of caleb and rafayel......! You literally ate!.....And i know you are gonna write zayne next but i really wanna see them regret more like how about a part three where they see you with some man and their jealousy spikes (but the man is like just a friend or relative)....and when they pull you away to some other place to talk in private you tell them that's how you felt when they were with mc but you are not like them...and blah blah blah angst angst angst....pretty please

🥺🥺

❝𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦.❞

𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒆 | 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒏𝒐𝒏-𝒎𝒄)

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 | 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 𝒙 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒏-𝒎𝒄)

It had been six months.

Six months since he last saw you.

Six months of scrolling through his camera roll, hoping your face would blink back to life.

Six months of unfinished messages in his drafts.

Six months of pretending to move on, while being stuck in the same moment you walked away.

Rafayel saw you again on a Sunday.

Bright day. Warm air. People laughing around a pop-up market near white sand bay.

And there you were—laughing too.

Wearing a white sundress. Hair tied up in a loose bun. Holding an iced drink, chatting with some guy. He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Well-dressed. Probably kind.

Rafayel froze mid-step. A sharp breath lodged in his throat like a punch to the lungs.

You were smiling.

You looked… okay.

Without him.

And that hurt more than anything.

The man leaned in to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. Rafayel didn’t think.

He moved.

Before he could stop himself, he crossed the street, pushed through the crowd, and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped.

“Rafayel?” Your voice was pure shock.

The man stepped in instantly, protective. “Who the hell are you?”

But Rafayel’s eyes were only on you.

“Can we talk?” he asked, breath shaky. “Please. Just a few minutes.”

You looked at your companion, then back at him. “…It’s okay. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You always were too kind.

You walked to a quieter part of the bay, away from the crowds. Rafayel didn’t speak at first. He just stared.

“You look good,” he murmured finally.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “So do you. I saw the awards you won. Congrats.”

It felt like poison.

He didn’t care about the awards. Not when you weren’t in the crowd, cheering.

Then he snapped. “Who is he?”

You blinked. “Seriously?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” His tone was colder than intended.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “He’s my cousin, Rafayel.”

He shut up.

“God,” you muttered. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

Rafayel took a shaky breath.“I thought I saw you happy with him. I thought—”

“You thought I forgot you?” You looked at him now. Really looked. “You think I just walked away and stopped feeling anything?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t know. You never answered my texts. You shut me out completely.”

“Because you already shut me out first.” Your voice trembled. “I begged for your attention. I waited on you. I stood in the shadows, loving you silently while the world shipped you with her. I told myself it was just acting. That you’d come back home to me every time. But you didn’t. Not really.”

"i was stupid." he whispered. “I didn’t see what I was losing.”

“No,” you said, eyes glossy now. “You saw. You just didn’t care until it was gone.”

Rafayel felt the ache throb harder than ever. “I care now.”

You looked away. “Too late.”

Silence fell between you like an ocean.

“I still love you,” Rafayel said, voice cracking.

You shut your eyes at that. “And I’ll probably always love you. But love doesn’t fix trust, Rafayel. It doesn’t erase being forgotten.”

He nodded slowly. Pain blooming behind his ribs.

“I’m not asking for another chance,” he said quietly. “I just… I wanted to hear your voice again. To know if you ever missed me.”

You turned to him then. “I missed you every night I cried myself to sleep,” you said. “I missed you every time I saw your face on a billboard and knew that smile wasn’t mine anymore.”

A long pause.

“Do you hate me?” he asked.

“No,” you said gently. “I mourned you. That’s worse.”

Rafayel swallowed hard. You stepped back, and he felt you slip through his fingers all over again.

“I hope you find someone who chooses you every day,” you said. “Even when the cameras are off.”

He blinked fast. “And I hope you find someone who never makes you feel like a secret.”

You nodded. Then gave him the softest smile.

“Goodbye, Rafayel.”

As you walked away—back to your cousin, to your laughter, to your healing—Rafayel stood frozen, shoulders trembling, heart hollowed out.

He got his closure.

He got his answer.

But he never got you again.

It was a bookstore.

Of all places, it had to be that damn bookstore.

Caleb hadn’t even meant to go in. He was just wandering—haunted, really. Some part of him was always retracing the places you'd once gone together, like maybe memory could substitute for presence.

Then he saw you.

Poetry aisle. Laughing. With someone else.

Your smile hit him like a truck.

The guy beside you was tall. Kind-looking. He leaned close—too close. Your hand brushed his. You didn’t flinch. You laughed again, head tilted, that same way you used to tilt it with him.

Caleb’s stomach twisted.

Jealousy. Regret. Panic. All-consuming.

He moved before he thought, crossing the store and standing right behind you. “Hey.”

You turned. A flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Caleb?”

The man beside you stiffened slightly. Caleb didn’t care.

“We need to talk,” he said, voice low, sharp. “Now.”

You blinked, instantly guarded. “Excuse me?”

“Please,” he said, this time quieter. “Just—five minutes.”

You exchanged a glance with the man beside you—calm, collected, not threatened. He nodded once, as if giving you the choice. “I’ll be right back,” you told him softly.

You followed Caleb. Not willingly—but not resisting either.

He led you out the side door, into the quiet alley behind the building. The moment it closed behind you, the air shifted. Old ghosts crept in.

You crossed your arms. “What is this?” you asked.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. “I saw you. With him. I just—I lost it.”

You stared. “So?”

“So I couldn’t handle it,” he blurted. “Seeing someone else make you laugh like that. It felt like being erased.”

You tilted your head. “Funny. That’s exactly how I felt when you forgot how to love me.”

He flinched.

“I know I don’t have the right,” he whispered. “But I can’t lie to you. I haven’t moved on. I haven’t been able to.”

“Caleb,” you said softly. “What are you doing?”

“I want to start over,” he said. “Not as who we were. As who we could be. Coffee. A conversation. One small step—”

You shook your head.

He stopped.

“I’m not angry anymore,” you said. “And I’m not bitter. But I’m done.”

His eyes searched yours. “You’re really saying that?”

“I waited,” you whispered. “I gave you chances. You wasted them. Now I’ve learned to build a life where I don’t have to be someone’s second thought.”

Tears burned at the corner of his eyes. “But I still love you.”

“I believe you,” you said. “But love isn’t enough. Not when it comes too late.”

He reached out, then stopped himself. “So that guy…?”

“My cousin,” you said again, almost tiredly.

Caleb blinked.

You offered a soft, almost sad smile. “It’s not jealousy that should’ve brought you here. It should’ve been realization. It should’ve been me.”

“I was a coward.”

“You were,” you agreed. “But that’s not my burden to carry anymore.”

Silence.

Wind passed between you both like a closing chapter.

“I hope you find peace,” you said gently. “And next time—don’t wait until it’s over to say what matters.”

You stepped back, and this time, he didn’t stop you.

Just stood there, like a man watching a door close on the version of himself he’d only just begun to love again.

You disappeared back into the store, the world, your future.

And Caleb stayed in the alley—

Finally, alone.

Truly.

Utterly.

Alone.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 : my actual plan was to have them get back together. but then i remember, you can't heal using the same method that hurted you. so yeah, i gave them closure instead. but don't worry i'm gonna give all of them happy ending! (●'◡'●)