Arcane Male Oc Fanfiction

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

Caked in mud, her eyes bloodshot, my mother grabbed me by the shoulders. "Elliot, the company's collapsed. I… I killed a competitor. It was an accident. There's no way out now. You're the only one who can come with me." I believed her. I swallowed my fear and followed her into the mountains, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left of the world I knew. To keep her alive, I searched for food, forcing down insects, drinking whatever murky water I could find. When a pack of wolves began circling our shelter, my first instinct was to step in front of her. "Mom, I'll lead them away. You go." I glanced back at her one last time…and made my choice. I would give up my life for hers. However, when I leapt from the cliff and my body shattered against the rocks below… I still saw her. She was inside a descending helicopter, calm and composed, lifting a glass of champagne. Celebrating. That was when it finally clicked. The desperate escape that had driven me to sacrifice myself… was nothing more than a carefully staged show. She had been acting the entire time. I…was the only one who had actually died.

My fiancee was diagnosed with cancer and needed a liver transplant. When I found out I'm a match, I agreed to undergo the surgery without a second thought. They removed two-thirds of my liver. The pain is excruciating, but the moment I wake up, I force myself to check on her. Outside her hospital room, I overhear her talking to a friend. "Trish, you're a genius! This revenge plan is brilliant!" her friend exclaims. Patricia Zeller laughs. "If I weren't trying to keep it low-key, I would've taken a kidney just for fun. It's all his fault that Warren messed up his college entrance exam and had to study abroad. Warren's coming back in a month. Once he does, I'm done with him for good."

"Sir, the system doesn't have any data on your marriage records with Ms. Lydia Payne." I can feel my knees starting to go weak beneath me as I clutch the gastroscopy report. Five years ago, Lydia was recruited by a top-tier law firm all the way in Starbrough. I made the ultimate decision to travel thousands of miles across the sea with her to start a new life there. She had told me, "Once I've garnered enough wealth and a solid reputation, I'll help you apply for a PR card right away." But it has been five years, and yet my Permanent Resident Card is still in the process of being approved. On the other hand, Lydia's assistant, Philip Wilder, who has traveled to Starbrough with us, has already received his own PR card thanks to Lydia vouching for him. When I received news back then, I wanted to break up with Lydia and fly back to Luxoria. Lydia, who had always prided herself on being cool and calm at all times, panicked for the very first time. She gripped my hand as she said, "It's difficult for Philip to hold down a career in another country, so I view it as my responsibility to help him out. "You're my husband, Nathaniel. You'll have your own PR card sooner or later. My job is a sensitive one, you see, so I need to avoid showing favoritism to you. Please be more understanding toward me." Well, I've been understanding toward Lydia for five whole years. My phone suddenly rings. When I answer the call, I can practically hear the smile dripping off Lydia's tone. "Phillip has successfully passed his citizenship exam! We're celebrating the occasion tonight. Hurry up and come home so that you can get dinner started." I feel my heart going stone-cold as I stare at the marriage certificate in my hand. Well, it's more like a piece of useless paper now. It turns out that I'm not Lydia's legal husband at all. I don't have an identity here, which means I can't receive any benefits. Heck, I can't even get started on the medical insurance that's needed for my follow-up treatments. After ending the call, I book an appointment for a keyhole surgery. Then, I book a ticket on the quickest flight back to Luxoria. This time, I won't go back to Lydia ever again.

My name is Adrian Hart. The day my sister Serena found me and brought me home, I thought I finally had a family again. I was wrong. In Serena's eyes, her adopted brother Evan mattered more than I ever would. When he was too scared to marry into a powerful family, I walked down the aisle for him. When he wanted out, I swallowed a fake-death pill and disappeared. Every time, Serena swore it was the last. The seventh time, she poured the pill down my throat herself. And that was the time I actually died. My soul stayed behind. I watched Serena stand over my body in the morgue and fail to recognize me until it was too late. And the cruelest part wasn't dying. It was knowing that, until my very last breath, my sister still wasn't on my side.

Year three of hiding who I was and dating Jenny Knapp, my parents finally said yes to the marriage. I rushed home, ready to tell her—then froze outside the door. Jenny was inside with Nolan Cruz, her childhood friend. "My neighborhood's about to get redeveloped. Big payout. You can finally dump that loser and be with me. If my family hadn't gone broke, you wouldn't have settled for him." No pause. "I'll tell him my family's drowning in debt so we can break up. Then I'll register the marriage with you right away." The words on my tongue died. I pushed the door open. She turned to me, face tight. "My family owes $500,000. I don't want to drag you down. Let's break up." "Sure." I pulled out my phone and texted my dad. [Dad, don't transfer those three buildings to Jenny. Cancel the South Borevia redevelopment project.] If she thought we were worlds apart, I'd show her exactly where I stood.

The night before our wedding, word spread like wildfire through high society that my fiancee had thrown herself a bachelorette party with ten virgins. When I storm into the villa, I find her nestled in the arms of my chauffeur's son, her skin blotched with fresh red marks. "It's just a wild night before the wedding. You get that, don't you?" Melissa Young says. She looks up at me with indifference, not bothering to explain herself. I catch the smug challenge in the eyes of the man holding her. My eyes burn red as I hurl the wedding invitations to the floor. "The scandal is everywhere! Have you even thought about what tomorrow's wedding will look like?" I yell. "This isn't just about you and me. It's about the future of both our families' businesses! Call a press conference and explain yourself." She frowns, irritation flickering in her eyes, but gives a grudging nod. Yet the next day, the internet explodes with a new bombshell—the Zucker heir is impotent, leaving his fiancee unsatisfied. When I demand answers, Melissa puts her foot down, her voice dripping with venom as she says, "All I see now is Nicky." She snaps, "No matter how many times you threaten to pull your investments, my mind's made up!" In that moment, the last ember of love I feel for her goes out. I call my dad, my resolve steeled. "Cut off all funding to Young Group, and buy out every one of her partnerships at triple the price!"

I run into a group of rogues on my way home for my daughter's birthday. I call my wife for help, but she blocks my number. I'm dragged out of the car, stabbed a dozen times, and thrown into the bushes to die. My neck is broken, and my organs are spilling out of my body. The rogues think I'm going to die—they even mention each other's names before me. Then, they drive off in my car while whistling happily. I hold onto my head and organs as I crawl to the roadside, hoping against hope that someone will save me. Before I'm taken to the hospital, I see my wife's social media update—she and her secretary have taken a sweet photo together while celebrating our daughter's birthday. The first thing I do after being discharged is demand a divorce.

On a trip to Chicily, my wife, Rosa Stone, and her first love, Jack Cud, insisted on feeding wild, starving wolves. I simply reminded them, "You might attract more hungry wolves." They turned on me, calling me a heartless monster. In the end, I was right. A pack of wolves really did show up. They circled the car, watching us hungrily. Jack was bitten by one. To my surprise, Rosa kicked me out of the car, yelling, "Jack is hurt! He needs to be taken to the hospital! Distract the wolves, I'll come back for you!" I watched them drive away, leaving me behind, surrounded by hungry wolves closing in from all sides. My heart sank. But, Rosa forgot one thing—I was a great Wolvesmith.

After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom. As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"