── ❀.࿔ about
⤷ ❥ zayne, valko, caleb
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MYTHBLOSSOMS 2025 please do not edit, copy, steal, translate my works. do not feed my works to ai or chatbots. all dividers or banners are made by me unless directly specified, please do not steal. characters not owned by me.
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Everything is feeling a little heavy, but that's alright because Valko is heavier.
ABOUT | 2500 words. fluff. pre-relationship. first kiss. UST. self indulgent. emotional hurt/comfort.
"Whatcha watching?"
Your body jerks in surprise, sending your phone tumbling to the floor as your hands come up to muffle the high-pitched yelp startled out of you.
The sound of the cat compilation video echoing through the living room undermines the fierceness of your glare when you turn to face your intruder. That teasing rumble all too close – and all too familiar – to belong to anyone else but-
"Valko," you chide, wishing you could blame the jumpscare when your stomach dips at the sight of his windblown hair and innocent expression so close to yours.
Though letting himself into your apartment like this was nothing new, had become a part of your routine for months at this point, if you're honest, there was something that had been feeling different about Valko's visits to you lately. Less vexing and more… comforting.
An increased awareness of him, maybe? The sound of his voice. His size. The way his laugh and personality managed to fill the room more than his bulky body. Of the way he always tripped over your living room rug or tried to sneak a rub of his scent into every pillow. Of the way he stood so close when he spoke to you, capturing you in the sweet honey of his eyes.
It was something warm that pulsed in your chest, something intimate that had started to hook your gaze to his mouth and magnetize your palms to his skin even today, when you're at your lowest.
His right ear twitches at the sound of his name as he grabs your phone from the floor, a crease of distaste scrunching his nose when he clicks on the screen to stop the noise and tsks, "Looks like my 'dogs are better than cats' speech needs some work."
"Maybe I'll be more in the mood to hear you out–" you take your phone back and set it on the table with a huff, "–when my 'please use the damn front door' speech finally penetrates that thick skull of yours."
A crooked grin scrawls over his face. The pointed tips of his incisors reflecting the dim light of the small lamp you'd flicked on purely to save you from feeling like a complete gremlin while you moped this evening.
"Gonna tell you the same thing I tell Ma every time she says that." He unfurls from the crouching position he'd been in and drops his weight beside you, making your normally sizeable loveseat suddenly feel cramped. "Processing info is for the ears, not the skull."
Resting your cheek in your palm, you narrow your eyes at him with a considering hum.
"What?" Your uninvited houseguest turns to face you, eliciting a concerning creak from the loveseat as his knee comes up to rest on the cushion and his arm drapes over the back. An oversized paw just shy of brushing your shoulder. "What d'you mean, 'hm?'"
"Trespasser, jumpscaring people, terrible manners, and a smart ass to your mother?" You note each transgression by holding up a finger. "No wonder you're always prowling around Linkon alone."
"Hey, hey! Woah, woah, hold on." His hand darts forward, covering yours like it'll hide the evidence. "No– I mean– sure I may be some of those things, but trust me," he puts one of your fingers down and leans forward, another sad groan coming from below the cushion as he rests his elbow on his knee. "I wouldn't be sitting here, or hanging out with you – or breathing – if I were a smart ass to my mother."
Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your lip twitch, the closest you’ve come to a smile all day.
It surprises you how naturally it comes, how much lighter you feel, as you take in his easy grin, his warm palms, his artless gaze. Makes you worry that you're becoming used to this feeling, to something you might be misreading.
"Why?"
"Well, she has this really brutal way of grabbing you by the ear and–"
"No–" the word dissolves on a giggle that has both his ears twitching and an expression you can't quite interpret crossing his face. "I mean, why are you sitting here? Hanging out with me?"
"Oh. I kind of–" He stops, catching a hint of pink creeping onto his cheeks as he looks down at still-linked hands. "I mean, I sorta felt like something was… off. With you." You're suddenly glad for the loss of his gaze as he starts to fiddle with your fingers, pressing the pads of his fingers to the tops of your nails as if to test their sharpness. "It's like a.. tug?"
Your mind races with panic as you realize just how much your attraction to him has been tugging at you over his last few visits. "Are you saying that with this– this bond or whatever, you can feel my emotions?"
"Nah, it's not like that." You hope he can't see the stark relief in your gaze when his eyes meet yours again, letting go of your hand to press a palm to the center of his chest. "It's not emotions that call me, it's, well… you. Calling me, that is. Needing me. Or, pulling at me, more like."
Your brows arc upward. "Like a leash?"
His head shoots back dramatically, paired with a groan that sounds almost as distressed as the loveseat still suffering under his weight. "Mercy, little hellion. Let a man keep at least a little dignity." He shakes his head with a bark of self-deprecating laughter. "But yeah. You've got me leashed up good. Happy?"
His question is gentle but pointed, hopeful. His frame still leaning over you, an umbrella shielding you from the sadness and negativity that have been pelting you all day.
Your chest warms at the sight, making it all the harder to respond with a sad smile and the shake of your head as the all the reasons you're not happy come flooding back.
"Alright," he says easily, unphased and unrelenting. A considering look enters his eyes. "Just means I've gotta take more drastic measures here."
In a blur of movements you barely have time to process, he turns his back to you, kicks off his boots – an oddly polite gesture that has you reconsidering just how serious he was about that leash comment – and flops backward. The broad span of his shoulders forces your bent knees down to accommodate the weight of his head as it nestles into your thighs.
"V-Valko! What are you doing?" you stutter, heartbeat galloping as the scent of amber and pine and him wash over you. His ear twitches as he takes your awkwardly hovering hands, placing one behind the wolf ear on his right and the other behind the human ear on his left.
"There," he says with a wiggle of his shoulders, like your thighs are a pillow he's nestling into.
When he notices your hands haven't budged, he gives you an expectant look, nudging the sides of his head into your palms until your lips twitch and your fingers start to move.
"This is your drastic measure?"
He hums in response, eyelashes fluttering as your nails scrape gently over a rose-coloured mix of silky hair and plush fur.
"And this is supposed to…" The question trails off but your hands continue.
He shrugs, the heat of his shoulders anchoring your thighs as one of his arms sneaks around your waist.
"I dunno, distract you? Annoy you, comfort you, take your pick." His eyes lock onto yours, sincere, earnest. "Whatever you need."
The combination of his touch and his words act like a stick of dynamite, blasting through the boulder of tension and worry that's been sitting on your chest all day.
You take a deep breath as he sighs in what you instinctually know is relief. And for the first time since he's mentioned this "bond" of yours, you think, maybe this thing goes both ways.
The thought that you might be starting to figure him out as well as he always seems to understand you brings a small smile to your face.
His lips mirror yours. "That's what I like to see," he says, voice low.
You roll your eyes and flick his ear to disguise the way your stomach flips when the praise rumbles through your thighs, flexing them to jostle him and joke, "What? Me being suffocated?"
His finger comes up to tap the end of your nose with a self-assured grin. "Stop pretending you dont like it, I saw that weighted blanket on your bed." You're not sure if it's you or the loveseat that squeaks when he tugs you into his face and nuzzles into your stomach. "Wanna tell me what's got you down?"
There's something about Valko's bluntness, about his willingness to tackle everything head-on, that catches you more off-guard than his casual and abundant displays of affection ever do. It's straightforward, without artifice. And though there's no hesitation in his request, there's somehow no pressure in it either. As if no response you give him could ever result in offense or resentment or awkwardness, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world to tell the unvarnished truth.
So you do.
"It's just… everything? I don't know, it's all piling up. Like, there's work, lack of sleep, friends I'm not keeping up with, not to mention the general state of the world."
You pause, finding his attentive gaze already on you when you look down to see if you're making any sense. He nods encouragingly, the ears on his head twitching in unison like an attentive audience.
"So I guess I've just been thinking about it all and it feels a little overwhelming. Right here." You press a hand to your chest. "And… heavy, I guess. Like–" You raise a pointed brow. "Like getting crushed by a giant mutt on my own sofa."
His jaw drops in dramatic affront. “You– did you just-” He snaps into a sitting position, your loveseat groaning in despair before he points a finger at himself, as if there could be anyone else you were talking about. “Mutt?! Oh you just crossed a line, you hellion.”
Any response you might’ve had morphs into a high-pitched squeal as you’re scooped up by a muscular arm and thrown over his shoulder.
“Valko! What are you doing? Put me down,” you manage through giggles and laughter as he hauls you to the bedroom with what sounds like a muttered 'I’ll show you a giant mutt.'
You land on the mattress with a breathless oomph, the stray laughs bubbling from your throat feeling foreign but welcome as Valko descends over your figure in an army crawl, finally stopping when you're nose to nose.
Your chests meet on each breath as he reaches up to brush hair from your face. His eyes seem more yellow than amber in the dim light, like marigolds, and you can't think of anything more fitting for the resilient, protective man above you.
"Hi," you breathe, grinning wide.
"Hello, gorgeous," he murmurs, darting a glance at your lips that has your heartbeat pounding against your ribs.
The shadow of his tail swishes behind him as he lowers his weight onto you, fitting his body over yours in a way that anchors and comforts you rather than stifles you.
"Better?" He mumbles into your neck, the heat of his breath awakening gooseflesh over your collarbones. "You know, now that you've made my pedigree your punching bag?"
"Yeah, actually," you realize with a giggle, fingers brushing over the soft bristles of his undercut. "I do."
You haven't laughed this much in a while. In fact, despite being pinned under the heaviest man you know, you haven't felt this light for a few weeks now, you think, which was… the last time he visited you. You close your eyes briefly, mourning the loss of your sanity at the realization that he was right earlier. You had needed him.
"Then listen to me real quick." Your hand slips to his jaw when he raises his head, his smile smaller, his eyes intent. "Next time you feel overwhelmed, or if it's all feeling like too much, you don't have to isolate yourself, or doomscroll, or muscle through it alone. I know I look like I'm all brains but I can help carry things. So just call me, yeah?"
You smile, agreeing with a small nod, pausing before you joke, "With the leash?"
"Okay, who's the smart ass now?" he mutters with a shake of his head, crooked grin back in place. "I meant with a phone. But the leash works too, I guess."
"What's it like?" you ask, curious for the first time since you've learned of it.
"The bond?" His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, a knuckle tracing your cheek. "It's like one of those less traveled paths in the woods. Barely visible to the naked eye, but once you find it and start walking on it, everything starts to feel… right."
"Your chest gets really warm and you have this zappy feeling in your gut." His lips tip up in a faraway smile as his eyes follow the path his knuckle makes over your ear, your neck, your collarbones. "Everything feels possible when it's there. Lighter. And when it's gone? Anything you do feels wrong. Empty."
"But…" You swallow past the heartbeat in your throat. "I thought you couldn't feel my emotions," you protest weakly.
A spark ignites in his eyes, electric enough to charge the air between you as his expression morphs into what you can only identify as a primal satisfaction. He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to memorize the scent of this moment, holding your gaze as his eyelids lower.
"I can't," he breathes, so close his nose brushes against yours when he shakes his head. "Those were all mine."
Your lips part, tongue hovering in wait between your teeth as his palm comes up under your chin, fingers settling on both sides of your jaw to draw you in. Your eyes shut as his lips descend over yours, and despite the warmth of his palm, the first brush of his tongue feel like being doused in flame. You wrap your arms around his neck on a moan, humming when he tilts your head to lick into your mouth again and again.
"Valko." The soft, fuzzy sensation of his buzzed hair grazes your knuckles and he sighs into your mouth, as if you're breathing life back into him with the sound of his name.
You take the chance to nip at his lip, holding it hostage between yours until he answers in kind. The sharpness of his teeth like bee stings on your mouth, soothed only by the sweet honey of a tongue that's licking, tasting, consuming the flushed skin between your lips and your throat.
His body sinks into yours, each of his muscles and contours taking shape around yours like heated metal, a weapon being forged for its master, its weight the heaviest thing you'll ever have to carry again.
➻➻ MASTERLIST
NOTE: They can take my undomesticated wolf man from me in the game but he will live on as a terrible house guest in my delusions forever xoxo
disappointed is an understatement for the fact that a vocal minority of parasocial liars essentially throwing a week long tantrum is what’s finally stuck.
im extra disappointed from a game standpoint because i know there was going to be a lot of lore added and explained with his introduction bc of his position that we’re now missing out on, and the potential delays in already long awaited updates that re-workshopping this change will cause.
also just genuinely surprised because at the very least, from a business standpoint, all the sunken cost for him alone feels like it should’ve been the last resort for them to do this and not the first solution, since they’ll never make any money back on him now.
last but most important, not only are the players impacted here, but this widespread tantrum and attempt to strong arm a company over a game is having real life impacts on the writing team that was hired for Valko, all the voice actors and cosplayers and motion capture actors for him, and an entire design and animation team I’m sure. so yay, you nuked the real world just to get your fake world to be exactly as you want it …
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i love you all dearly but pls be kinder to yourselves. there is no wrong way to fandom. there is no wrong way to selfship. there is no wrong way to do *gestures vaguely* any of this. just because someone else might do it differently or get more attention/support does not mean you're wrong and/or should stop doing it altogether
pairing: mentions of gideon x caleb
wc: 339
cw: 18+ MDNI, angst, hurt no comfort, gideon yeaning and hurting,
a/n: cleaning out my drafts with some gideon angst
Did it matter? Was any of it even real?
It certainly didn't feel real. Sitting at some cafe in Skyhaven, across from Caleb — who's pressed next to you, baseball cap pulled low. Who, by all legal means, should be dead.
But he is here, that boyish grin that haunted him for the last year (from even before the funeral) permanently etched onto his face.
Gideon had seen people be left behind in the wake of the setting sun; lunches and gifts sent back, touched by sunlight but never actually kissed by its glow.
He didn't think he could also be burned, be left in the cold of an ever growing shadow.
But it's so easy to see it now, the way Caleb bends towards you. His arm casually draped around you, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your shoulder. Eyes crinkling over something you're joking about.
Caleb might be the sun, but you were the universe. An entire cosmic galaxy that Caleb shone brightly for.
Gideon wanted to laugh, to scream. To reach out and settle his palm on the surface of the sun to cradle its warmth. He knew he'd recoil, the tender skin turned red and tight, blistered — but real.
"Gideon—", his voice still sends a warmth blooming in his chest. "You still here?" Caleb taps his shoe against Gideon's and it unfurls something slick and hot in his stomach.
"Yeah," he swallows. "Sorry, just saw something outside."
Caleb eyes narrow slightly, before lifting at the corners again. "Well, Pip wants you to come to dinner tomorrow. You in?" You're smiling at him too, kind and bright.
He could accept this, hovering somewhere in orbit around you two. If it meant he could still feel the edge of warmth, see the pinprick of sunlight on the horizon.
This could be enough.
Even though the memory of warm fingertips pressed into his hips is burned into his brain, the shape of a lazy grin lingering as teeth graze the column of his throat.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming