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keepswingin · 3 days ago

Text

⸻ LEFT BEHIND ⸻

pairing: caleb x reader

genre: angst, romance, hurt/comfort, canon compliant, caleb character study

w/c: 6.7k

summary: finally catching up, ever decides to take what they believe has always been theirs. caleb refuses to lose her again.

cw: kidnapping, scenes of violence, character death (not of main characters), mentions of past trauma, implied torture, implied medical experimentation

a/n: this has been finished for so long i was just stalling because i didn't feel like editing but then i figured i should post it so that it doesn't end up in the rotting wip pile xD hopefully everyone enjoys!

Ever takes you.

It's less climatic than it should be - an off night, a thundering sky, a wrong turn down an alley you've taken too many times before. Easy to track down, really, because you've gotten comfortable. It's a rule you know above all else, to always be on guard, to never stay in one spot for too long, especially now, when you're poking around in places you shouldn't be, when Caleb is the one you can't quite let go.

But a storm swirls overhead and you turn down that same alley. You watch your shadow flicker over the bricks, listen to the sound of your footsteps, one after another. You think about how it's odd that the association has been so quiet lately, when it very much seems like it shouldn't be, with everything happening at once, with everyone trying to get their hands on aether cores no one will ever truly understand.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the world around you.

You blink. Glance up at the sky. Watch grey clouds move fast above you, promising rain. When you look in front of you, you notice more shadows than before, growing closer. Thick coats bundled around black face masks and leather gloves, eyes that shine under the quickly fading sun. More than you can handle, even as your hand inches towards your waistband, where your gun awaits.

Panic doesn't push you into action quite yet, but there is a part of you that thinks you should bring your hunter watch to life, that if you ping your location someone would probably be there in minutes to investigate. But was it worth the risk of putting someone else in danger? Was it worth -

Something sharp pricks at your neck and all at once your world tilts on its side.

A strangled sound escapes you as you stumble forward a step, and then fall, unable to hold yourself upright. Your knees scrape the pavement as your vision wavers and then wanes, your heartbeat thudding hard in your ears. The figures in front of you grow closer and then blur into a mass of darkness and you have no choice but to close your eyes, unable to make a sound, unable to move.

A cold hand roughly grabs your chin and turns your head, holding it for a long moment before letting go. Thunder rumbles from above. You can barely think. "We've been looking for you," a voice whispers, close to your ear. "Finally found you."

As everything around you finally begins to fade, you can't help but think about Caleb.

You wonder if he'll miss you like you'll miss him.

Caleb sits in the living room of a house that feels far too big and watches as rain slides down the window. His phone sits abandoned on the coffee table in front of him, silent and dark. He wonders if she had forgotten they had dinner plans, but there's a part of him that thinks she would never forget.

The storm is bad. The wind is dangerous, and the lightning is deadly. Storms are always worse in Skyhaven, but it's something he's learned to weather, though it was easier still when she was by his side, or tucked under the blankets in a bed that was no longer his. He reaches for the phone and brings up his messages with her, staring at the unread words.

He types out another message. Clicks send.

The storm rages on.

"Something wrong, Colonel?"

Caleb startles, looking away from the window. He doesn't remember the last time he hadn't heard someone approach, and the thought itself isn't something he wants to dwell on. He straightens and turns towards the voice, facing an older man with various medals decorating the crest of his suit. Caleb pauses for a moment and stares, brows knitting together. He doesn't remember his man's face, doesn't remember ever seeing him before. It wasn't odd for Ever to throw in new recruits when they felt like it, but he could usually pick them out of a crowd like the sore thumbs they were. Whenever they dared to add researchers to the mix, or people who had been around since Ever's start, Caleb was usually able to pick them out too.

This man...this man is an oddity.

"Did you need something?" Caleb asks, voice firm, eyes giving a quick scan to the rest of the room. It's only the two of them, the rest of the control room empty. Today's a training day for most of the Fleet. He doesn't usually need to be here for days like this one, but he didn't have anywhere else to go.

He had called her earlier. He had called her last night. He had sent more texts than he would like to admit, and still, there was nothing but silence in return. Paranoia was starting to creep in from the edges of his mind. He was minutes away from making his way over to her apartment.

The older man doesn't bother to stand at attention. It bothers Caleb, makes him think of the man more as an insurgent than a fellow comrade. If he was from Ever, he must've been a newer model, one that didn't have to go through the same rigorous training as the rest. "No," the man drawls, eyes flickering up to Caleb's face. "Just checking in with you, sir."

Caleb bristles and turns back around. "Don't bother me with such trivial matters again." There's another storm brewing on the horizon. It's been days. He doesn't know how much longer he can wait. Anxiety curls at his insides like a snake around his ribcage. What if she's hurt? What if he's failing her by waiting?

"As you wish, Colonel," the man replies, eerily even.

When Caleb doesn't hear him move, he uses his Evol to throw the door open. Wood splitters as the handle pushes through the wall. He hopes the man flinches. A few seconds later, he listens to the man's fading footsteps.

Alone again, Caleb releases a shaky exhale. One hand comes up and runs through his hair.

What if it was his fault she was missing?

Caleb stands in the middle of her apartment and looks around at a place stuck in a moment of serenity.

The door is broken at the hinges and everything is perfectly in place. There are no signs of struggle, no signs that she's been home anytime recently. There is no takeout in the trash, no dishes in the sink, no laundry piled by the washer, no blankets askew on her bed. There is no signs of life, no signs that someone has lived within this apartment, and Caleb feels his shoulders begin to shake, his heart beating faster.

Nothing is packed away in suitcases. She didn't decide willingly to leave him. But there hasn't been any contact, and his calls go straight to voicemail, and his messages are delivered but unread so someone is looking at her phone, or too sentimental to destroy it. Or maybe that's apart of evidence of her grisly murder and Caleb is already far too late and she's already gone and he's done nothing but waste time because he was trying to better and it didn't get him anywhere -

Caleb collapses to the floor, chest heaving, vision blurring. He - He needs to calm down. If he doesn't calm down the chip, the chip will make him - he can't forget, not now, not ever, not when he's already wasted so much time. He needs to calm down, he needs...he needs her. He needs her because he doesn't quite have himself anymore.

His breath catches in his throat. He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't just sit here and let the chip -

Pain in his chest. Pain in his head, pain shooting through an arm far from human.

It hurts. Everything hurts and the world blurs.

No, he begs, anything but this, anything but now -

Caleb awakens in the middle of the floor of an apartment he doesn't truly remember.

Slowly, he pulls himself upright, a dull ache deep in his chest, a headache forming in the crevices of his mind. He looks blearily around the room, takes in the furniture, the color palette that isn't as dark and dreary as his own home. There's a stuffed animal from a claw machine sitting between the couch pillows, just out of reach.

Caleb carefully climbs to his feet and makes his way over to the stuffed animal, picking it up and holding it close. It looks like it's supposed to be a fluffy white dog, but it's missing the right fluff. A stray thought enters his head, that it would look cuter with a colored collar around its neck, and then he freezes.

I got a collar with a bell. I put it on the cat.

His fingers curl tighter around the plushie.

If I had that kind of bell right now, I should make you wear it, right?

"Fuck," he whispers, bits and pieces coming back to him. It slips through his fingers like sand, even as he desperately tries to hold onto something. He could forget everything else, but he could never forget her. He was...he was wasting time, wasn't he? He was...in her apartment and here for a reason. He needed to -

He walks towards her bedroom, stuffed dog still clutched in hand and places it carefully on top of her pillows. Then he bends down and reaches under her bed, fingers gazing across the box he's looking for. He tugs it out and pops it open, digging carefully through old and new memories alike. When he reaches the bottom, he finds what he's looking for and pulls it free.

She would never leave without it. Even if she hated him to the ends of the world, he knows she still wouldn't leave it. It's a small ring fit for a child, crafted out of fraying string and beads. He had given it to her before they were old enough to know what promise rings meant, and he thinks that's what it was always meant to be.

Tucking the ring away and pushing the box back under the bed, next he moves to her closet, picking through the clothes hanging there. Every outfit is in place besides her hunter uniform, and a quick glance at her dresser tells him she was in a hurry to leave last time she was here, makeup sprawled across the desk.

This...it's a start. He can do something with a start.

"I'm going to find you," he whispers, a promise to himself and the empty home around him.

The Hunters Association is only helpful after he threatens further action through the Fleet.

He thinks he would feel bad about it any other time but he doesn't, not when it's nearing a week and he still has no trace of her. They offer him everything they know and it gives him her last mission, and her possible last location. Her last mission had something to do with abandoned research labs out on the outskirts of Linkon, though it didn't turn up anything new and she had returned to the base empty handed.

She was dismissed by six o'clock that night. Security cameras show her walking out the front doors of the association five minutes after. She decides to walk home and takes a left down the street. One of her co-workers tells him that's the path she usually takes. Caleb rewatches the footage three times, trying to find anything abnormal but there's nothing and he is still left with more questions than answers.

He thanks them for the cooperation and tells them to call him - not the Fleet, him - if they hear anything about her or from her. He feels the distrusting eyes of her Captain burn into his back as he leaves, but he doesn't really care about that either. All he cares about is finding her.

He retraces her steps, forwards, backwards, until his feet hurt and his body aches.

When he finds no evidence the hard way, he returns to the Fleet and checks the cameras. The Fleet has access to nearly all the public cameras in Linkon, though not everyone in the city needs to know that. He's able to find her on one camera after she leaves the association, closer to her apartment, but he loses her when she ducks into an alleyway off the beaten path.

The cameras on either end of the alley have no footage, disabled from within.

Caleb digs deeper, searching the access files. If cameras are shut down it's usually for construction or security of a political figure, not for some random hunter choosing to walk down an alley. It's suspicious and makes him uneasy, the further he searches, the less files he finds. It's like the system has been wiped from the inside out. He stares at an empty file screen, where logs of usernames are supposed to be, and finds only his name staring back at him.

He deletes himself from the system and makes a copy of the footage to a spare flash drive before deleting that too.

Not for the first time, he wonders if she was taken because of him, because he dragged her too close to the sun. He tried to keep her out of it, tried to make her keep her distance, but she was stubborn and he was helpless to stop her when she made up her mind, unless he took extreme measures.

Maybe they weren't extreme enough.

He tucks the flash drive in his pocket and turns to leave, only to be met by the face of the older man from earlier in the week standing in the doorway. He's missing some medals, ones Caleb saw pinned to his suit last time, and his suit isn't as prim and proper as it should be. There's something dark in his eyes that Caleb can see even from across the room.

"Colonel," the man says happily, taking a step forward. "I've been looking for you."

"Have you?" Caleb asks, crossing his arms. "Because I haven't seen you anywhere."

The man laughs, raspy echoes bouncing off the walls around them. "I think we both know why," he responds, shooting Caleb a crooked smile. "Missions come and go."

He shifts, and his uniform moves with him. Caleb's eyes catch the symbol sitting branded against the cusp of his collarbone. Things begin to fall into place as soon as he starts lining things up. He had tried to protect her and all he did was put her right in the line of fire. There was no telling if she was even still alive if...if they were the ones who took her, finally, after all this time.

"Were you sent to keep an eye on me?" Caleb asks, and it's hard to keep his voice steady when so many different emotions are shooting through him all at once. It's hard to keep focused when he's worried about her, the chip, the deceiving man in front of him, the organization responsible for plucking him for death and giving him a second chance as something much different. "You've done a shit job," he continues, meeting the man's eyes defiantly.

"But I've done my job," the man whispers. "She's long gone by now - "

The man chokes. He reaches up to his throat, scratching his fingernails against his skin desperately.

Caleb doesn't release him. He only steps forward, and with each step he takes, the harder it is for the man to breathe. "Where. Is. She?" Caleb demands, squeezing tighter and tighter. The man's lips are nearly blue by the time he reaches him, eyes holding a deadly intent. "I have no problem killing you," he spits dangerously. "It's up to you if you want to ever breathe again."

He watches as the man's widen and a horrible sound escapes him, as if he's trying to speak. Caleb scoffs and releases him, taking pleasure in the way the man's body crumples pathetically to the floor, He struggles to breathe in as much oxygen as his body will allow. Caleb crouches down and waits a moment before using his Evol again, grabbing the man by the chin and jerking his head so that he faces him.

"Where is she?"

"I - I don't know!" he rasps, still struggling to breathe. "They - They didn't tell me!"

Caleb chuckles darkly. "Don't lie to me." His Evol tightens. The man cries out in pain. Bloodied marks begin to peel at his chin.

"Wait, wait, wait! I'm - I swear I'm not lying, I'm not lying! They - They sent me here to keep an eye on you, to - to make sure you wouldn't do anything they didn't account for! They were afraid of - "

"Afraid of what?" he whispers, sick of the man's blubbering already. He tightens his grip even more, sick of the games. He'll kill him even without getting the answers he's looking for, he doesn't mind, not when he has a feeling this man is omitting more than he needs to be, especially with his life on the line.

The man reaches out and grabs at Caleb's wrist, fingernails digging into the seam of his suit. Caleb goes to shake him off, disgust rolling in his gut, but before he can a strangled sob spilts from the man's battered throat. He pauses, arm hovering in the air. A tear slips from the man's eye. He doubts it's because he's suddenly grown a conscious, especially not if he's part of their -

"You," he cries, pain straining the tone of his voice. "They're afraid of you."

Caleb leans back and releases him.

The man falls to the floor once more, curling around himself, gasping. The noises he makes are unfitting of one from Ever, and he can't help but wonder if they've stopped paying attention to the newer ones because they finally have her. Guilt begins to claw its way up his throat, nearly weighing him down. He tried to protect her, he told them she wasn't worth the time, that he was better, that he would always be better. He tried to stop them, to keep them from ever being able to reach her.

And now they were sending unfinished soldiers out to the frontline.

Maybe they were right to be scared of him.

"Did they say anything else?" Caleb's voice is deceptively calm. He returns to his full height and readjusts his glove, straightening out the wrinkles. The man coughs and sniffles, barely turning his head in the other's direction.

"No, nothing. Nothing, I swear on my life."

Caleb is still and silent for a long moment. "That's not much to swear on."

The man doesn't have time to react as the bullet is lodged between his eyes, and smoke swirls from the end of Caleb's pistol as he returns it back to his side. He reaches into his pocket, fingers brushing against the flash drive, answers just out of reach.

It's a bad idea.

A horrible idea, if Caleb stops and actually thinks about it, but it's the best way for him to get answers, even if he has to play dumb to get them. The door ahead of him tugs open, revealing a face he knows all too well. Something close to fear shivers down his spine.

The Professor stares back at him, eyes crinkling at the corners once he realizes who it is standing in front of him. "Caleb," he says, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here at this hour?" Caleb keeps his hands locked behind his back, a picture of posture, even if his insides say otherwise. It takes everything within in to keep a steady, uncaring tone to his voice.

"I was curious about when the next round of testing was going to start."

The Professor regards Caleb with a cautious stare, shifting. "Is there a reason why you're so eager to begin?" he asks carefully, eyes flicking across Caleb as though they're trying to find something strange or out of place.

Caleb plays the part well as he flexes his arm slowly, rolling his wrist. "My arm has been a bit slow on the uptake. I was hoping we could make some adjustments alongside everything else."

It's the right thing to say. Immediately, Caleb can see the Professor relax, like he's provided a suitable enough reason to be poking around about future Ever projects, especially when this isn't a place Caleb enjoys visiting. The Professor allows his lips to almost twitch into a small smile.

"Unfortunately, the next round has been momentarily delayed. A few of our scientists have been redirected to a different project."

"Oh?" Caleb hums, acting clueless. "Did they finally figure out a better resource?"

There's a gleam in the Professor's eye that Caleb doesn't like. "Something like that. I'll let you know as soon as we're able to begin the next stages. For now, just keep things running smoothly, Caleb."

Caleb gives a short nod and a quick duck of his head as the Professor bids him goodnight, the door shutting quietly behind him. Caleb can't get out of the place fast enough, heart thumping hard as he makes it across the street and down the first alley he sees. He stops and allows himself to lean his forehead against the cold brick, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

At the very least, he confirmed what he thought.

Ever did have her and they were already pushing other projects back because they knew she was the key to the lock that they were looking for. At least the Professor told him what he needed to know, even if he didn't realize it.

He talked specifically about the scientists that worked with Caleb, which meant he knew which places to check.

Four weeks.

Four weeks since he's last seen her face, heard her voice, held her close.

He craved her touch like a man would water in a desert, and he didn't know how to combat that feeling. Instead, he resorts to the one thing he knows he can do. He hits the research labs he knows best, and when those turn up empty, he begins going for the ones Ever tries to hide. When he runs out of those that he knows, he interrogates the next scientist he comes across.

Blood sticking to his palms, he heads for the next round of labs.

Night bleeds into the horizon.

He's so close. He knows he is.

He didn't know this lab existed.

The building is small and tucked behind some other abandoned buildings, nearly trespassing into the N109 Zone, windows broken and brick decaying into dust. It was the last lab on the list and so far Caleb was doubtful there was anything inside besides the hollow remains of what used to be, but he makes his way into the building anyway, using the force of his weight to push through the front door.

It cracks and falls apart as he steps over the threshold. The room before him is bare and covered in discarded papers, weathered with age, some shredded into tiny pieces. Plaster peels from the walls and there's a hallway tucked behind a fallen bookshelf towards the back of the room that he steps over.

Following the hallway brings him to a second room, this one smaller than the first. Furniture sits askew, wood splintering and cushions thrown to the corner, ripped in two. Thick layers of dust cover empty picture frames barely hanging onto their hooks. There's no signs of life, no signs of anyone having touched this house in years and Caleb's hopes fall deep into the pit of his stomach.

Did the scientist lie to him? Broken and bleeding and alie slips from between his split lips?

Anger is a close second to the disappointment, the cocktail of emotions beginning to stir deep within him. He's failed again. He can't do anything worthwhile, he never has, and now she's probably dead and gone and he couldn't even protect her when it mattered the most. What was the point of him coming back if nothing changed? If he was still just as useless as he was all those years ago, ignored and thrown aside as they reached for her every single time -

Caleb's eyes abruptly catch on the far wall.

There's dust everywhere. There is not dust on the corner of a larger picture frame that sits awkwardly towards the bottom of the wall, just enough to be out of place.

He walks over to the frame and stares at it for a long moment, and it's then that he sees the traces of fingerprints, sticking to the remains of the frame. There's a small indent within the wood.

Ever was smart. Caleb always tried to be smarter.

The smell of antiseptic burns his nose the further into the lab he gets, the sound of his boots echoing throughout the empty rooms ahead of him. It's too bright, and the sounds of different machines whirring and clicking sets him on edge. He hasn't seen a single person in this place that grows larger and larger after every step he takes, and yet his heart tells him he's in the right place.

She's here. He knows she's here.

There's tables with restraints in most of the rooms. Equipment, clipboards, computers. Needles awaiting their hosts in one, scalpels and hard cloth in another. He quickens his pace, heart pounding. If he thinks too much about this, about where he is and where he has been, the chip will take control. He can't allow that to happen, not now, and he tries his best to keep his breathing steady as he finally makes it to the end of the hallway, only to be met by an eye reader beside the door.

It's barely a sound decision to break it, bits of metal and glass shattering to the ground but the door opens as he does, spitting broken error codes in an calm voice as he pushes his way through. Several shocked eyes turn to face him as he sees the massive room before him, wires curling from the ceiling down to troves of different devices, to empty tables awaiting test subjects, to -

To her, lying on a lone table in the middle of the room.

Caleb's world freezes once he sees her. He thinks his heart stops.

She's restrained by metal around her wrists, ankles, and forehead, keeping her from looking around. Her chest heaves with frantic breaths and a scientist stands above her with a scalpel in hand, blood dripping from the blade. There's needle marks trailing alongside her neck, cuts across her arm, a gash along the curve of muscle in her leg, poorly healing, wrapped in bruising of purple and yellow. She's still in her hunter outfit, though it barely hangs onto her body, already so malnourished and small and if Caleb didn't know her like another side to his heart, he wouldn't know who he was looking at.

There's six scientists in room. The one standing above her goes to speak but Caleb throws him back with his Evol before he can get any words out, his back hitting the far wall with a loud crack of bone. He doesn't have a chance to scream but one of the other scientists does, scrambling to run, the others attempting to follow.

Caleb pulls out his pistol and takes aim, exhaling.

He blinks away what he thinks might be tears before holding the far door they all run to in place with his Evol, listening to the growing sound of their distraught cries as they look back at him.

Before everything, before this, maybe he would have felt something. Guilt, horror, disgust. But he is what they all fear, and this is clear in a way it has never been before as he sees the way they pull at the door like they can make it move, like they can change the outcome that's already been foretold. As they look at him like a monster, Caleb knows there was never a chance that he wasn't, not when it came to those he loved.

He shoots them one by one in quick succession before lowering his gun. Their bodies are piled on top of each other, motionless and silent, a scene out of a horror movie neither of them could ever finish when they were younger.

He pockets his weapon and turns back to where she's been abandoned, running over to her side.

It's worse up close. An Evol suppressor sits locked around her neck, skin underneath rubbed raw from struggling. Her chest is a mess of open wounds, some festering and others still bleeding, her skin mangled and messy. Caleb struggles to keep the chip from taking him away right then and there, heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears. His eyes drag back up to meet her own, taking in her sunken cheeks, her pained eyes, the small cut below her lip.

With a shaking hand he reaches down and wipes his thumb across the cut, wiping the blood away. She flinches with the motion, even as her eyes stay locked with his, and he freezes, unsure what to do next. He wants nothing more than to hold her and never let go, to take all her pain and make it his, to stitch up the wounds and drag the needle along his own skin instead - anything to make it so that she doesn't look how she does now, like the life's been drained out of her, frail and scared and tiny even though she's always been anything but.

His lips almost tremble. He tries to say her name, to whisper it like a prayer that was never answered, but he finds that nothing comes out, that he is stuck standing over her with his hands half raised and useless when she needs him most. He couldn't protect her then, so how could he protect her now? Offer her comfort when his touch was something she couldn't even bear, broken and bleeding and all his fault?

He keeps his gaze on her as he uses his Evol to carefully dislodge the restraints before leaning over and removing them one by one. She flinches with every movement, each clatter of the metal as he throws it aside, fingers shaking by the time he reaches the suppressor. He's overly careful to keep space between them as he leans in further, not wanting to box her in, unable to get a good enough look and wanting to be sure of the angle before he gently pulls it from around her neck, the device beeping as it's deactivated.

It drops the floor unceremoniously. A part of him wants to use his Evol to snap it to pieces and another part of him wants to rip everything in this lab apart, to take whatever data they've gathered and destroy it once and for all, but no part of him wants to leave her.

He swallows and inches closer to her, one hand gingerly slipping under the curve of her back. He tries not to react to her flinch, but he's sure his face doesn't hide the emotions he feels well. "You're safe now," he whispers, nearly desperate. "I'm going to help you sit up. One, two - "

He pulls her up as gently as possible, other hand coming to a rest on the side of her waist, one of the only uninjured parts of her. His touch lingers as she cries out and squeezes her eyes shut from what he's sure is pure agony on her wounds, and wants nothing more than to take the sound away and replace it with something else.

He knows he should let go of her. He knows he should. But he can't.

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't notice as she slowly lifts her hand up and then rests it on his cheek. He grows still, eyes flickering back to her own. A tear slips down her cheek. And then another. "Caleb?" she whispers, and he - he remembers the last time she sounded like this, broken and tiny and crying and nothing but a failed experiment to everyone around them and - and -

Caleb nearly breaks himself when her other hand grapples for him, fingers tangling around the chain of his necklace. She looks down at the necklace and then back up at him, squeezing the pendant in a tightly closed fist full of new scars, and Caleb can't take it any longer.

He surges forward, arms wrapping around her, closing the distance between them until they're breathing the same air, feeling the beat of each other's heartbeats. A sob rattles deep in Caleb's chest when she starts to cry, and he squeezes her tighter, her arms sliding around him, his fingers knotting in her hair.

"This is my fault," she whispers unbidden, words muffled into the cusp of his shoulder. Caleb tucks himself closer, pressing soft kisses to the skin he can reach, shaking his head.

"No," Caleb murmurs, voice choking on another sob. "Not your fault." He's barely able to form sentences, let alone words, body shuddering with the force of emotions he struggles to keep under control. "Never your fault." A tear breaks free, slipping against her skin. "I'm sorry."

She hiccups, sniffles. He thinks maybe it could've been a laugh, if only they were somewhere else.

"You found me, Caleb," she says. "You found me."

"Always," he breathes, kissing her again. Her fingers dig into the cloth of his jacket, desperate to find skin and hold on tight. Caleb shifts slightly, nearly pulling her off of the table and into his arms but stopping when her breath hitches. Another kiss and he's tugging at her again, waiting until he feels her hold grow tighter before attempting to pick her up, her arms wrapped around him like it's where she's always belonged. He slides a careful hand down her back before settling his hold on her waist, the other under her knees, tight, secure. Safe. "Let's go home," he says, voice nearly catching and breaking.

He feels her nod against him.

And he finally takes her home.

You find that you like sleeping with the lights on, after.

You know it's stupid, really, when there's so many worse things than the dark, but it scares you in a way it never did before, fear curling around your insides until it was the only emotion you knew. You hated it, hated feeling so weak, hated feeling so stupid walking over to the light on the far side of the living room and flicking it on like clockwork every night at six o'clock sharp, always before the sun disappeared under the horizon.

Tonight is the same as any other, your finger pressing against the light switch before you breathe a small sigh of relief and return to the couch, watching idly as the weatherman tells you that it's going to storm all week, another thing you didn't fare too well with anymore.

It made it hard to be in Skyhaven, the storms. They were so, so loud up there, closer to the clouds. It reminded you of that lab, of the echo every single instrument made, of the way some machines made you scream and others made you beg. It's all just too much and for a long moment, you're back there, and there's thunder outside and you are trapped on a table with a scalpel above you and no way out -

The front door opens and closes.

Footsteps echo, growing closer and closer to you. You barely notice, trying to bring yourself back from a place you never want to revisit, and then there's a hand sliding across your back, squeezing tightly at your shoulder. Warm breath ghosts across your ear. "Missed you, pipsqueak," Caleb whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek and lingering for a long second before pulling away, ruffling your hair as he goes. "I'll start dinner."

You wait for his footsteps to fade before turning and watching as he starts opening cabinets and pulling out ingredients, stacking them in a neat pile on the counter, followed by pans and lids. He fills a pot with water and places it on the farthest burner, flicking on the stove. When he turns again, his eyes catch your own and he slows to a stop, watching you.

He's still in uniform. His hat is pristine and perfectly in place. He's preparing to make you dinner, as though he knows that your head isn't in the right place tonight. He looks at you like he already knows everything you could say. He's hard lines to soft edges that never quite disappeared, and you find yourself moving off the couch and towards him.

He waits until you're close enough before opening his arms and wrapping you into a hug, reading your mind once more. You exhale and the sound shudders through you. The twisting of your gut and shadows of your mind go with it.

Caleb presses a kiss to your hair. He waits for you to speak first and for a long moment you simply follow the rise and fall of his chest. Words swell in your chest before they finally decide to spill from you, whispering across the silence between you.

"I think I love you."

The water in the pot begins to boil, soft pops echoing from the stove. A soft chuckle rumbles through Caleb's chest. One of his hands intertwines with your own. "Popping the question so soon, pipsqueak?" he jokes quietly, and you can't help but roll your eyes, gently shoving him with your shoulder. He holds onto you tighter in retaliation.

"I'm serious," you say.

"So am I," he returns, and when you turn your head to look at him, he's smiling down at you like you're the sun. "I've always wanted to spend the rest of my life with you." A pause. His eyes, staring right through you. "I love you too."

You feel something inside you start to mend with his words. The sounds of the past are eased away with the sound of his voice, the bitter cold biting at you washed away by warmth. His words settle deep in your chest and easily make a home where you thought only an empty chasm remained.

You close the distance between you, your lips meeting his. He sinks into you, smiling, and you pull him closer, kiss him deeper. You think this is what love must feel like, what it must taste like, what it must look like. You think this is what devotion is, what your hopes and dreams are, what you've been missing for what feels like your entire life.

You think this is home, and that it's never once been a place, because it's always been a person.

It's always been him.

#love and deepspace #lads #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #lads caleb #lads x reader #lads caleb x mc #lads caleb x reader #lnds #caleb love and deepspace #caleb angst #lads mc #lnds caleb #lads angst #love and deepsace fanfic #lads fanfic #keepswingin writes #mine

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copperheid · 10 hours ago

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Honestly Bruce has been treating Jason particularly awful the last few years. Like it's just endless.

Most recently it was when he fucked with his brain so that he'd have a panic attack any time his adrenaline was raised, creating an endless feedback of fear as fear itself raises your adrenaline. Not to mention much of everyday life also raises your adrenaline like working out, sex, romance, being annoyed, enjoying a good book/film/game.

And Bruce did not, to my knowledge, actually help remove this when he came to his senses - seemed like whatever the Joker gave Jason fixed it? (Truthfully I didn't read much of zdarskys work after gotham war because I was not enjoying it so it may have been resolved in a later arc - but the fact he didnt fix it at the start of the next arc at least is telling on its own. But he's appeared in other stories and been fine so I assume it was resolved eventually)

Jason regularly seems to just let Bruce walk all over him and treat him extremely poorly, and it's clear Bruce has a low opinion of him in several arcs but Jason thus far has remained downright inexplicably loyal.

I'm starting to wonder if it had all been building up to this heel-turn for Jason.

Personally I think he might take a turn back to being more anti-heroic. It seemed they were testing the waters on that with 3 jokers but that was ultimately not made canon because fans hated jaybabs.

But Jason having more complex morals and being willing to kill does make him more interesting, so having him be strictly non lethal to please Bruce does hamper that.

I don't necessarily think Jason is about to go full supervillian like he used to be, but I do think he might be a lot less willing to put up with Bruce's abuse and a lot more hurt by it.

Bruce is very willing to use excessive force against Jason in a way he rarely does to the rogues. And while yes this could be explained by the fact that Jason is very nearly on par with Bruce as a combatant (both in training and physical strength) so he poses a greater threat in Bruce's mind - that doesn't justify it at all.

Jason has commented on it a few times now - Bruce has now almost killed Jason on multiple occasions. Slitting his throat (UTRH), pulling him off his bike while travelling at speed (Task Force Z), beating him to a pulp (multiple - most notable being RHaTO 25), nearly giving him a heart attack with an incredibly dangerous little brain 'tweak' (Gotham War) and now shooting him in the head (Hush 2), '. It's all been chipping away at their relationship bit by bit.

Going out of his way to save the Joker is just a step too far. Jason has come to understand that Bruce will never kill the Joker outright at this point because he understands Bruce's moral code better, even if he still resents it. But Jason still believes that the world is better off with some people dead. He's a moral utilitarian, so Bruce's deontological moral standpoint does leave them at odds on the issue on whether it is moral to let the Joker die.

As Jason sees it, he can understand Bruce not outright killing - but going out of his way to save him is another matter, because for him it's a trolley problem - Joker on one side of the tracks and his future victims on the other, and the trolley is actively headed for the Joker this time. And to him, Bruce has actively chosen to redirect the trolley towards the future victims. He's not just choosing inaction, it's an active choice to kill countless innocents by saving the Joker.

Bruce of course is just set in his ways that it is always immoral to kill and always moral to save the dying, so they will always be at odds on this issue.

So yeah, I don't think Jason turning heel in this moment, permanently or not, is OOC at all. I think it makes perfect sense and has been a long time coming. Working with Hush is another matter - we'll see how that plays out. Jason is as much a schemer as Bruce and Tommy are. He may be playing them both.

Bruce on the other hand...well, there's enough instances now that it's not technically out of character for him to act like this. But I certainly don't like where his characterisation is going. His ethics are making less and less sense whenever Jason is involved.

…Bruce. You brainwashed him. Your abused son placating you does not mean you made amends.

Also… “The worst of it now. Having to explain my actions.” Do you have any idea how you sound right now Bruce? Well? Do you?!?

As it turns out, Bruce doesn’t even end up explaining his actions. Instead, he shoots his son in the face.

Yeah, I’m not kidding. The man who has trauma about his family being shot proceeds to…shoot his family. And honestly, “I did it to shatter his helmet to make sure he’s not Clayface” is a really terrible excuse. Keep in mind that this occurs during an argument over Bruce saving the Joker yet again.

Anyway. Wanna play spot the difference?

Yeah, the stuff Bruce was saying in RHatO 25 was worse, but the context of Batman 159 is worse. And the fact that Bruce shot Jason in the face. Even with the helmet it’s a true wtf moment.

I don’t know why Jason went “evil” this time but tbh even if it’s not a trick or some secret plan (which it very well could be) I’m kinda with Jason here.

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pome-seed · 3 days ago

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The Soldier's Keeper ★ 29

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You should have known. Bucky should have known. Today was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be beautiful. There was no world you could live in that was peaceful.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: Canon- typical violence. Car Accident. Blood. Guns. Gunshots. Description of Wounds. Loss. Everything. (I'm so sorry.)

Authors Note: Sorry. Love you guys! Let me know your favorite scene from the series so far! I'd love to know. ALSO, if you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

You never should have gone alone.

You knew better, but you wanted to be independent. You wanted to show him you could exist on your own, even after your injury. But you were wrong.

You were wrong, and now it was all over.

Bucky and you had finally purchased walkie-talkies. You’d made a plan to stash them in familiar, but hidden, places in the city. So if you ever got separated again, you would have a way to contact each other, and set up a meeting place.

You had also been putting together go bags with supplies to stash. Clothes, bandages, toiletries, a map of the city, and cash. Everything you’d need if you were stranded. Bucky wanted to be prepared for anything. He wanted to know that if you had a repeat of the last time, you would be safe.

Bucky helped you stagger down the last few steps to the apartment landing. “You made it all the way on your own, you’re getting better.”

“And I only had to use you as a crutch for half of it. Watch out, soon I’ll be running marathons.” You chuckled, sticking your hand out for one of the duffels. Bucky was hesitant to hand it over.

He looked at the dark handle in his palm, then glanced up at you. “Are you sure?”

“I have to be able to survive on my own, Bucky.” You told him, wiggling your fingers at him. “If I can’t walk the street alone, what's the point? I might as well live upstairs as your pet.”

He frowned, stepping closer. “You’re not a pet.”

“I know. But I have to prove it.”

“You don’t have anything to prove.”

“I do, to myself.” You smiled, wrapping your fingers around a free space on the handles. “So gimme. Let me do this. Plus, we can talk through the radios the entire time.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head at you as he handed the bag over. You circled the handles around your shoulder and pulled out the walkie-talkie. “Doctor to soldier, do you read me? Over.” You spoke into the mic. You could hear its other half mumble in Bucky’s bag.

He rolled his eyes, pulling the radio out. “I’m not talking like that.”

“That’s going to make it really awkward for me, over.” you pressed the button. You snickered at the wrinkle between his brows. “Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky huffed, walking with you out of the building. You walked side by side to the intersection, then stopped. “Radio me if your leg starts to hurt, I’ll come meet you.”

“I will. I’ll be fine.” You smiled. “See you for dinner,” you turned on your heel and started walking down the street. You could feel Bucky staring at you, his gaze heavy and pressing into your back. But you refused to look back.

If you were going to have to live the rest of your life like this, on the run, you wanted to feel like you could be independent. You wanted to prove to yourself that you weren't helpless. You were in control. You could and would survive. You would make a life you were proud of and you would move forward. And you knew you could do it.

Or at least, you thought you could.

You were wrong.

And god, did you wish you would have just turned around.

You stashed the bag first. You buried it behind a garden maintenance shed in a nearby public park. It was dirty, and suspicious, but you buried it deep. You made sure to bury a daffodil plant from nearby over the drop site, to mark the bag.

You radioed your progress to Bucky, then made your way to the agreed on location for the walkie.

It had been a long time since you took a walk on your own, feeling the sun on your skin and the peace of chirping birds. You used to love going on walks. You remembered the countryside inn you sayed in all those months ago, and how beautiful the trees were there.

The drop site for the radio was a few blocks from your regular street market. In the alley behind the Irish pub. There was a large graffitied Romanian word, one you didn’t recognize. You scraped along the edges of a loose brick in the center of the letter O. Once you finally tugged it free, you radioed to Bucky one last time.

“I’m dropping the walkie now, over.” You released the button, waiting for a response.

“I’m almost finished stashing the bag, I’ll see you back at the apartment.” Bucky had taken the longer route, pitying you and your injured leg. The whole intention of splitting up in the first place was to make the process faster for you both.

You’d stash the bags, stash the radios, then meet at the apartment for a long afternoon of dinner and reading. Like any other day.

“Oh come on, you’re not gonna say it even once?” You chuckled, trying to egg him into using stupid radio lingo.

“Nope.”

“Fine, see you at home.” You snickered, then slotted the radio into the hole. You fitted the brick back in place.

As you stepped back onto the street, you felt proud. You felt more secure with yourself. You were able to do this on your own, without Bucky’s steadying hands or pitying gaze. You did it. And even though you felt a bit childish praising yourself like that, you knew you were allowed to feel proud.

You’d overcome so much, experienced so much. You deserved a moment to be proud of yourself.

Your leg was starting to ache the further down the block you walked, the throb travelling up to your hip. You were fine though, you knew the route back to the apartment and you could drag your leg there. Worst comes to worst, you would wait at the bottom of the stares for Bucky and ask for his help getting upstairs.

You crossed the street, your stomach rumbled. You were excited for dinner. You always ate something cheap and easy, but Bucky was able to get a stake from the butcher shop down the street. He’d been running deliveries for them for a while now, and sometimes it came with perks.

Your thoughts about getting home, and dinner, were interrupted by a buzzing sound swirling around you.

At first you thought it must have been a fly, so you batted your hands around your head. But it continued. You glanced around, at the people walking past you, going on about their lives.

You guessed it must have been someone's phone. No one was close enough for you to hear their notifications.

Your brows crinkled in confusion. The buzzing got louder. Something flickered above you. You glanced up.

A small, hovering machine flew around the corner. A little red light blinked.

Your stomach dropped to your feet.

No.

You stumbled back, walking right into a man digging through his bag. He grumbled something at you in Romanian. “Sorry-” you blurted, panic rising in your chest as your gaze darted around the street. Men, women, children. Families. Couples.

But which of them was it? Who was controlling that thing?

Who was following you?

The man in the ball cap? The man dressed in all black up the street? Or was it the woman leaning against the coffee shop wall behind you, whispering quietly into your phone. It could be anyone. It could be no one. Who was it?

The machine buzzed from above, following your every step.

Oh god.

The radio. You needed to get back to the radio before Bucky stashed it.

You stumbled between a couple holding hands as you frantically paced up the street. You didn’t waste time apologizing. Sweat gathered in your palms. You just had to get to the radio. You needed to find sanctuary to gather your thoughts because it's fine. This didn’t have to mean anything. The machine might not even be what you think.

But the panic swelled and ached, constricting on your lungs as your mind fed you all the worst case scenarios. Because what was your life if not a whirlwind of worst case scenarios?

The intersection ahead was busy with cars and taxis beeping at one another. Men shouted angrily from their windows. Children skipped along the sidewalk. You didn’t have time to wait for the light. You looked both ways and waited for an opening. You staggered off the curb with a wince, a pinching ache travelling up your thigh.

You powered through, jogging across the first lane. The alley wasn’t too far away, you hadn’t made it far. You just needed to-

You heard a woman from behind you shriek.

An engine roared. You saw a flash of red. You saw knuckles against a steering wheel.

Your body slammed over the hood with a sickening thud. You cried out, rolling over metal. Glass fractured beneath the force of your limbs. Your skull cracked against the pavement, your body rolling a few feet away.

The world was chaos above you. People shouted and screamed for help, for the police.

You couldn’t move. Your limbs splayed out on the road. Something warm trickled down your temple. Something cold burned against your cheek, the same feeling spiking along your right leg.

You let out a strangled breath, your cheek pressed to the ground. You tasted blood.

Leather boots stepped into your hazy line of sight. “Îmi pare atât de rău!” A high pitched male voice shouted down to you. “E în regulă! Ajutorul vine, vă voi ajuta.”

I'm so sorry! It's okay! Help is coming, I will help you.

The words sounded muffled to your ears, hovering and dissipating above you. Large hangs pushed you onto your back. You cried out, feeling something pinch in your pelvis. A silhouette hovered above you, scooping beneath your arms. You tried to squirm, your foggy mind stalling, but catching on the one thought you still had.

Run.

“Trebuie să o duc la spital!”

I have to take you to the hospital!

Bile rose in your throat as your mangled body was dragged along the bloodied pavement. A car door opened. You were being laid out across the backseat. Cold tears stained your heated cheeks.

Doors slammed shut. You heard the engine rev. More voices spoke above you.

No end to this would be in your favor. No police. No hospital. No witnesses.

“N-...” your throat closed around your attempt at words. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. You blinked, trying to clear your vision. Your head lolled to the side, watching the world move through the windshield.

But then you saw it.

The man in the front seat pressed something in his ear canal, then spoke in a rushed tone. He glanced back at you from the rear view mirror.

You choked on a muted sob, your heavy hands smacking against the door above your head. The man in front shouted something at you. You groaned, crawling onto your back. You yanked the handle, but the door stayed shut. You smacked your hand against the door until your fingers found the lock.

The driver slammed on the breaks, shouting back at you. You blinked, your vision clearing enough to finally see the man’s red face. You swung your open palms at the man, your nails catching on his skin. You snarled, shoving yourself forward to reach for him as he jerked back.

“Fu-Fuck!” you slurred, scratching his cornea. He shouted, his foot slipping off the break. You took your chance and yanked open the door.

You toppled out and climbed up on gangly limbs. You stumbled forward, running awkwardly as blood dripped down your leg. Civilians gasped as you shouldered through them, your bloody fingers sliding across walls to keep yourself up.

You took a break halfway up the street to throw up on the sidewalk, your head pulsing and aching. You could barely make sense of your movements, you just knew you had to get to that radio.

You had to move.

Shouts cried out from behind you, you looked back over your shoulder to see the man clutching his face, waving something at you. Your stomach rolled as you realized what it was. So much for no witnesses.

A bullet sparked against a lamp pole beside you, making you jump back in shock. “Shit-” you heaved. A group of teenagers shrieked and scattered from in front of you. A young boy shoved past you, knocking you into the nearest wall.

You shakily tried to right yourself. It was just a second, but it was long enough.

A sharp, burning, screaming pain ripped through your shoulder. you sobbed, catching yourself on the wall again. Your trembling fingers pressed to the steadily soaking spot below your collarbone.

You staggered forward, sliding your feet one after another until You resembled walking. You dove behind a group of tourists, frozen in the street, using them for cover.

When you finally crashed into the alleyway, you could barely see straight. Your skinned palms dragged along the wall until you found the loose piece. You yanked the brick from the wall. Your bloody fingers dug out the radio until you had it tight in your hand.

“Bucky-?” you slurred into the mic. “Bucky please-” you tried not to gag as blood slid down your side. You stumbled further into the alley. Mindlessly, you wrapped a hand around the cold metal hinges of the nearest fire escape. “Bucky-”

“Y/n?” His familiar voice cracking through the radio made you sob in relief. “Y/n? What’s happening?” He called to you as you slowly dragged your body onto the fire escape. “Y/n-”

You slumped against the dirty brick wall, your eyes fluttering open and closed. “Bucky…” you whispered, your body draining of energy.

“Y/n? What’s happening?”

“Bucky it happened- it- oh god- they're using drones,” you heaved, trying to wipe the sweat from your face but only smearing blood across your cheeks. “I’m- Bucky-” Nothing made sense to your frantic mind. Adrenaline pumped hot in your veins, but you were at a steady loss of blood. Everything felt cold.

“Y/n! Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?” His voice grew steadily in panic.

“I-I’m shot Buck- I-I think I’m shot,” you whispered, pressing your free hand to your steadily oozing wound. Your fingers dripped red.

“What? Where are you? I’m coming, are you in the alley?” Bucky sounded like he was shouting, but he felt far away. You tried to keep your eyes open, staring at the bricks across the way.

“Don’t come…” you panted. Your fingers felt cold. “They’re coming, Buck.” You let your hand slide into your lap, letting blood drip down your arm. “I was wrong…” you whispered, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry…” your lip trembled between words. You should have listened.

You shouldn’t have been so stupid.

“Sweetheart, listen to me, stay where you are-” Bucky shouted. “Put pressure on your wounds-”

“Bucky…” you dragged your lips against the radio, leaning your face into it. “Thank you.” You knew the man was close- much closer than Bucky. You knew it was really over this time. “Thank you, Bucky.” You wept. “Thank you for everything.”

“Y/n- stop it-”

You pressed your shaky finger to the button, cutting him off. Shouts from down the street echoed. “They’re almost here. I’m- Bucky, I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I wanted- I really wanted…” Tears streamed freely down your bloody face. “Be careful. I-I know you’ll be good.”

There was so much you wanted to say to him.

“Y/n, just shut up and try to stay awake,” he begged. You’d never heard his voice like that. You wished you could see him. You thought it was good you couldn’t.

You wouldn’t be able to do this if you saw him.

You wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.

“Don’t be scared.” You told him, your voice growing weak. Your head felt light. You blinked back tears. “You’ll be much safer…on your own.” You heard a man’s rapid footsteps echo in the alley. Your eyes felt heavy.

“Y/n,” he paused, his voice gruff and begging. He was panicked. He was terrified.

He wasn’t gonna make it.

You smiled ruefully to yourself. “Thank you, Bucky. For everything.” You whispered, switching the radio off. Then, as you heard the man shout at you from below, you started smacking the plastic walkie-talkie into the brick wall beside you, again and again. Until it cracked and frayed, shattering in your hand.

You felt the metal frame of the fire escape shake. You let your eyes slide closed.

You wished you would have gotten one more dinner with him.

Bucky hit the floor, his back sliding against the door. He heaved, his throat closing up on the need to gag. He stared down at his trembling hands. Blood caked beneath his fingertips. His chest constricted, his head filled with the sounds of your soft, quivering voice.

“Thank you Bucky. For everything.”

You were gone. You were really gone this time.

He knew better.

He should have said no. He should have gone with you. He should have known what would happen. They knew you were the weaker target. They knew they could use you.

He guessed that any minute, a team of dozens would be storming the apartment. He guessed at any minute, the small world the two of you had built together, would come crashing down.

The home you’d both grown so familiar with. Shattered into fragments of a bloody memory.

The apartment that still smelled like you.

He could still see your pajamas folded on the floor beside the bed. Your touch, your color, your life was painted and embedded into every inch of that room. But it didn’t matter. You weren’t coming back. Not this time.

He was alone.

“Thank you Bucky. For everything.”

And it was all his fault.

A/N: I'm glad the last chapter gave you guys a bit of comfort before....this....and everything that follows. Love yall!! Comment, message, send anons, let me know your thoughts. Please be kind!

@rafesgurl @pleasecallmeunhinged @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff @cherryandsugar @a-world-with-pure-imagination @unicornqueen05 @cupids-mf-arrow @sharkylalala @littlesuniee @meineguete @hawkinsavclub1983 @theconsultingdoctor10 @dollface-xoxo @bloodmocha @natalia42069 @nicolebarnes @fallen-w1ngs @justachillgirllui @avaout

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dokidokitsuna · 3 days ago

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The Hype Manta Storm

…Big Man designs are really difficult. ⚆‿⚆; And after all the time I spent just constructing this outfit, the color scheme threw me for another loop– see, even though Big Man’s character color is usually red, since I already used so much red on Shiver’s outfit; it would make the group look lopsided…so I decided to expand on my original rainbow idea, not placing emphasis on any color in particular. This way he’s like a “neutral” backdrop for the girls, which I assume was the intention with the canon designs.

Anyway, about his role in the AU…besides all the things I’ve said here and there in earlier posts, I think it would be neat if Big Man was a bit of an Alternan history buff; the Deep Cut member *most* interested in actually learning about its lost civilization. As he’s the last one you run into, you’ll have unlocked most of the map by the time you get to him, so he could help you out with finding more Nostalgic Devices and 100%-ing your collectibles, if you’re into that. ^^ Maybe use his special boss-fight ink to help you retrace your steps as you navigate, something like that.

So, with this done…I think I don’t have any new character designs left. ‘_’ I do plan to draw Octavio and Cuttlefish later (fingers crossed) but I doubt I’ll change much about their looks. After this, it’s just Happiness Research Lab, and then on to the rocket and the end of the story. Weird to think this AU might be over and done with this year… ^^;

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #re_rise #big man #new agent 3

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quietplace26 · 1 day ago

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Furina!MC au: Diary of Secrets

Notes: Another alternative take to my Furina!MC au..only this takes place in canon. Furina!MC returns home, and is now just MC again... Leaving chaos behind in the now post Prophecy Fontaine.

Warnings: OCness, cringe, thoughts of depression and suicide, yandere thoughts. Romantic yandere! Neuvillette, and Platonic yandere!Fontaine cast.

Furina!MC stares blankly at the thing before her. It was a computer... her old computer. The one she owned back in her last life.

The Genshin Impact logo flashes ominously on screen...

Furina!MC shakily shuts it off, standing up slowly and looks around.

She was in her old room. Everything still in the same place as it was the last time she saw 500 years ago...

She pads into her bathroom, marveling at the modern style bathroom she missed having, and gasps when she catches her face in the mirror.

She... she looked like her old self again! Her hair, eyes, nose, and even the little scar or mole here and there. She was herself again!

But how? The last thing she remembered was-

Furina!MC freezes. Her body begins to shake as tears started building up in her eyes.

The trial. How could she forget that?

Neuvillette, he... He had given the verdict of death sentence as her punishment, like canon did, but...

Now she's home? ...Maybe Focalors dying and the Hydro throne being destroyed freed her from her forced role? Finally letting her go home...

Furina!MC- no, MC sniffles as she smiled a true smile in the first time in 500 years.

She was home. She was free. And she was human again.

Glancing back at her computer she makes the decision to delete Genshin Impact from its system... Later on.

Right now? She wants to go spend time with her family and friends... And maybe she would forget all the pain and loneliness she went through...

So, rubbing her eyes dry, she pads out her bedroom, quietly calling out to her parents and siblings... Only she never notices her computer flicker on again.

The Genshin Impact logo flickers, and the usual log in screen of the game flickers to a scene of Fontaine. A Fontaine that was dark and rainy...

...Fontaine was in a state of chaos. Yes, the prophecy was avoided, meaning Fontaine and its citizens were safe... But their Archon? False Archon? Where did she go?!

After the verdict of a death sentence was given, she just faded away! Did she die?! Did she ever actually exist to begin with?!

No one was sure, but one reporter from the Steambird wanted to get answers, so he snuck into the Palais, and managed to find the former Hydro Archon's old room.

Digging around he finds what could be the Archon's diary and takes it back to the Steambird where he and his colleagues could go over what would probably be the biggest scoop of the century.

But all they got was some horrifying information...

The workers of Steambird, Charlotte included, all stared down at the old, beaten-up diary nervously... and guilty.

Should... Should they actually post what's in there?

Charlotte pushes for them to post it. The young reporter said the truth needed to be heard... and for their Archon's cry for help to heard as well...

So, they end up posting the article... and the Ludex himself, along with many others of Fontaine showed up in front of the Steambird, demanding answers.

The Article itself titled, 'Under the mask of our Hydro Archon-'

It spins a tale that their Hydro Archon was never their actual Archon, which Fontaine already knew, but it's revealed she was the HUMAN side of the Hydro Archon.

Neuvillette reluctantly admits he himself found out that info during the whole mess of a trial.

But here's the thing... Even that wasn't true.

Oh no, turns out Furina!MC wasn't even Focalors human side to begin with! Well, the body maybe, but the soul? The soul was once someone else.

A poor human that woke up in Focalors body double and was essentially made into a puppet for the Archon's bidding.

But even that wasn't the biggest shock!

The surprises continue as Furina!MC wrote about her past life, about how Fontaine, its people, Neuvillette, and even all of Teyvat had been a game in her old life.

Basically, she saw through the Traveler's eyes and explored Teyvat with them.

But if that's the case then why didn't she helped Fontaine?! Help people who were going to die or worse?!

The answer, as it would turn out, was because of Focalors.

The goddess' only goal in life was to prevent the prophecy and protect Fontaine... So, in her eyes, a few or more deaths didn't matter in her eyes.

So that meant she would NOT allow Furina!MC to act out of character and help those that could be saved.

And poor, poor Furina!MC was forced to watch as every soul she could've help, could've saved, die, or in Wriothesley's case, lose his childhood.

Carole, oh poor Carole... There were tears mark all over the page as Furina!MC cried through her words.

Navia's father, oh, his death could've been prevented if Marcel, no, Vacher had been caught. If only Focalors let Furina!MC bring up the evidence she had and KNEW, then-

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Navia-' the rest of the page had the same lines over and over again.

And Wriothesley. Oh, Furina!MC had been planning on fostering him, maybe even adopting him, but Focalors could never allow that, oh no.

Then there's Neuvillette.

Most entries showed how... Scared she was of him, how nervous... But also showed how she admired him.

She admired him for his abilities, for how he treated the Melusines, affectionately even writing being a dad was a good look for him.

It was obviously now that Fontaine's Hydro Archon had a crush on the Ludex, which apparently even shocked Neuvillette as he never knew that...

But for the rest of the diary entries, it mostly spoke of Furina!MC steadily declining mental state.

She started writing more about how it would feel to sleep die and not wake up one day. How lovely it would feel just to sleep drown deep in the sea, all alone where no one could hurt you...

Apparently sometimes when she was alone, she would test out her immortality to see if she could find a loophole and rest... and the way she described what she did to herself made several people sick.

It only got worse when they got to the last entry. The day before that trial...

Furina!MC wrote how she didn't hate any of her would be betrayers. She wouldn't hate Fontaine for turning its back on her. She LOVED Fontaine, truly...

It was just inevitable. There was no changing this 'story'. There would be no happy ending for 'Furina'.

All she asked for.... Is that when Focalors died... She could go home.

"...Lady Fur- I mean, Lady MC must have returned back to her world after Focalors' death." Neuvillette murmured as he closed the diary that a steam bird employee timidly handed to him.

All around him, nervous whispering could be heard. There was no hate towards MC like before, no, it was sorrow, it was worry, and guilt.

"Even if that's the case... would she even be alright? 500 years... and all the torture that Goddess put her AND us through..." Navia says, eyeing the nearby Archon statue in pure disgust.

That bitch let her father die! Of course she's angry! MC said she had evidence counting the fact she KNEW about Vacher, and even so, Focalors forced MC into silence.

"...Should we try to bring her back?" Clorinde suggests, fingers gripping her blade. She failed as a guard... and a friend. She raised her sword towards an innocent soul who has been silently crying out for help for 500 years... She had to make it right somehow.

Fontaine's citizens look at one another, and there's chimes of agreements. Their Archon was fragile right now, she should be brought back to Fontaine where the best doctors and therapists could help her now that no meddling Goddess was in the way.

Sigewinne was the loudest with this. "Lady MC is in a delicate state right now, both mentally and physically. Even if she did return home, that doesn't erase 500 years' worth of trauma, especially on a Human soul!" The Melusine nurse needed to see MC right away!

"Monsieur Neuvillette there must be a way to bring her back!"

"Please! We need to apologize!

"Lady Fur- MC needs help! Chief Justice, please!"

Neuvillette silently still gazes down at the diary.

To think... 500 years, and he never knew of the pain his lady was under.

When he saw Focalors, he felt the same affection he felt for Furina!MC, as they had the same face, but acted so differently.

But hearing the truth. Hearing how Focalors treated Fur-, no, he must in call his lady that name anymore! It... It wasn't her name. She deserves to be called her name!

...Hearing how Focalors treated MC, forcing her to act how like a puppet, keeping her quiet when the poor girl wanted to help... Unforgivable.

He glanced over at the nearby Hydro Archon statue and walks towards it, standing before it.

He sees Focalors' face, not MC's. It was never MC's. Focalors took that away from her l, didn't she. Took away her identity, her will...

With a flick of his wrist, Hydro shoots out and destroys the statue.

With the once grand statue in pieces at his feet, he turns to the crowd before him, face emotionless but eyes dark and determined.

"...We will bring back Lady MC back."

The resounding roar of agreement from the crowd echoed through Fontaine.

Fontaine would have its Hydro Archon back. The one they should've had to begin with.

Not a bratty, selfish, arrogant one. No. The shy, awkward, but oh so very kind and gentle Hydro Archon that was human just like them.

Fontaine will treat her gently, spoiling her with the love she was denied for so long.

The Melusines will have a chance to be closer to MC, to tell her Carole's death wasn't her fault. That they care about her, LOVE her.

MC took care of them without the Melusines noticing. Protecting them the best she could from Focalors.

.... Oh... That... that kinda sounded like a mama protecting her children. Was MC their mama? They had a mama and never noticed!

Navia wanted to apologize to MC. Both for her words and that awful test she tried to force MC through with the Primordial Sea water.

The President of the Spina di Rosula wanted to be MC's friend. Her best friend. Navia could tell by her diary entries MC was so lonely. She wanted a friend... And Navia would be that friend.

From her 500 years of being forced to act as 'Furina', poor MC must be so confused as to what she likes and dislikes anymore. Navia would help her with that.

She could take her to Fontaines best boutiques and pick out outfits she actually likes and then they could go out for a spa date. Navia would treat her friend right.

Clorinde needed MC back in her sights. She needed to keep her safe, to make up for her betrayal and failure. She would be the protector MC needed... The only one she will need.

Wriothesley... He originally held resentment towards the former Archon for all her failures towards him and his foster siblings.

But hearing the truth? It made him feel ill with guilt. The woman he held quiet hatred for had wanted to foster him and his siblings, and maybe even possibly adopt HIM.

He could've had a mother... but Focalors ruined everything.

Even though there was probably no way to have a family relationship with MC now that he was a grown adult, Wriothesley at least wanted to be someone that she could rely on.

Someone close to her, a friend... Or maybe more...

And Neuvillette? He wanted MC back. He NEEDED her back. He wanted to know the true MC, see the true MC.

She was probably very adorable; he could tell with the way she shyly wrote about him in her diary. Such a sweet little thing.

But he bet she was also beautiful as well...

No matter the cost, Neuvillette would bring MC back to Teyvat. Back to Fontaine... And back to where she belongs the most... With him.

Even if he had to bind her to his soul.

And with his Authority and status as the Hydro Sovereign returned, he was MORE than able to accomplish that.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #furina!mc au #furina!mc #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #yandere #yandere fontaine #romantic yandere #platonic yandere #my genshin content

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luvseisagi · 2 days ago

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— two years late.

ft. itoshi sae x reader. wc. 2k

summary. sae's been your best friend your whole life, but after his return from spain, you're not so sure anymore. content. gn!reader, no pronouns used, reader wears makeup. angst and no comfort, but this first chapter is kinda cute in some parts (??). childhood friends, miscommunication. lot of mentions of rin (as a lil brother) + canon itoshi brothers argument. i think sae's not too ooc here but he might be in the next chapter. author's note. first work is out!! im a bit nervous since its the first thing i write in almost a year, but its exciting being able to finally share something here. also it was supposed to be a one shot, but it got too long so i divided it in two chapters, sorry.

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) ! enjoyyy

being childhood friends with itoshi sae had been both the most beautiful and most traumatic experience of your life.

when you both were children, being best friends with sae meant co-parenting his brother with him. you would go to their practices and matches every now and then, spend your entire monthly allowance on ice cream that would always tell you you were going to have bad luck, play with dinosaurs instead of dolls and sleep in a too-small-for-two top bunk with the redhead while his little brother kicked the mattress from below in his sleep.

that made you happy, though. their parents never minded having you around all the time —they actually appreciated that their kids had at least one friend outside their football team, and your parents liked the brothers, so they gave you the freedom to spend time with them. they would let you sleep over at their house every weekend, ask santa for presents for them too, and invite them to every one of your birthdays.

that’s why, right after your thirteen birthday, when sae told you he was moving to spain to continue with his training, you felt your heart break for the first time.

things changed, then. even though sae was who really connected you to his family, rin had you as a big sister too, and sae leaving only brought you closer to him. you never stopped going to his practices and matches —your phone always in hand, recording him and sending all the videos to his brother. rin didn’t ask for it anymore, but you would invite him to walks and ice cream whenever you could —tagging sae in the pictures you would post, with the luck you two had gotten in the snacks; and watching childish cartoons with him whenever you stayed over at their house —messaging sae that the top bunk was now all yours, and rin still kicked the mattress in his sleep, babbling incoherent words about being the best player in the world.

you were a bit insecure about it at first, but sae answered all your videos, pictures, messages and calls. you knew he was a famous player now, and you always went to the itoshi’s house to watch his matches with his family at unmentionable hours due to the time difference —so, even if you were definitely more distant than when you were kids, he was still your best friend, and you were still his. no country, time zone, or ocean could ever change that.

or so you thought. it was two years later when you realized you loved him.

that's wrong, though —of course you had always loved him. apart from your family, he had been the only consistent presence and support in your life. rin was like a little brother for you too, and, for some reason, your friend group changed members all the time, so you had never had a friendship like the one you shared with sae. you loved him for that.

but you loved, loved him too, and it took you some years and a few dumb conversations with your friends to realize it.

at fifteen, everyone in your class liked gossiping about crushes, first kisses, and relationships that never lasted more than three weeks. your friend group at the time was formed by a some girls and a few boys from your class, and all of them liked or were dating each other. you were the only one left out, not because you weren’t likable —you had sae on the phone for almost a full hour when a guy from your extracurricular classes confessed to you, but you didn’t like him, and you didn’t know how to reject him— but because you weren’t interested in dating at all.

you wouldn’t call yourself popular, but you had a good relationship with all your friends —not like with sae, though—. you found people attractive, but never enough to feel the urge to kiss them —plus, none of them had eyes as pretty as sae’s, nor smiles as cute as his—. you were aware of the rumors about the guys that had a crush on you, but you preferred to act like you didn’t know about them —yet, you would message sae about it, asking him for advice in case any of them tried and confessed to you.

it was at a sleepover with the girls in your friend group, after almost forcing them to put the international football channel on the tv at midnight because sae was playing, when one of them brought up the topic.

“have you ever thought that you like that football boy you’re always talking about?”

and, no, you had never thought about it at all until they mentioned it. because sae was your best friend just like rin was like your little brother, and you had spent too many hours complaining to him about the boyfriends and girlfriends in your class for a thought like that to ever cross your mind.

“no.” you had answered then, if only a few seconds too late for your friend to grin widely and point at you, her voice too loud for the time it was when she laughed.

“you do like him!” she exclaimed, full of excitement for discovering, finally, that the i-dont-want-a-boyfriend—yn did actually like a guy “yn has a crush on a boy! and it’s his best friend!”

luckily for you, the girl’s parents had woken up with her loud exclamations, and it didn't take long for them to enter her room to scold all of you for staying up so late. they made you turn off the tv, too, a little surprised to see spanish football there instead of some silly teen movie.

you weren’t worried about the rumors spreading because no one in your class knew sae or rin anyway, and they shut off quickly because you never said a word about it. however, that thought had been already implanted in your head, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

i like sae. i like sae. i like sae? i love sae. oh, i love sae.

so it was at fifteen that you realized you were in love with itoshi sae, but you were too scared to tell him —he was still living on the other side of the planet, and you knew it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. besides, you liked the relationship you had with him at the moment, texting often, calling sometimes. you talked to him about rin, and you knew rin talked to him about you, too —you would never forgive him for sending his brother the pictures from when you had fallen in a mud puddle, and you knew sae’s profile picture for your contact was a photo of you with his old jersey, sleeping in his old bed that his brother had taken.

the next two years had you learning to live with the fact that, for your misfortune, you were very much in love with itoshi sae. you had always thought about him constantly, but it was different now —because when you were told a story that you wanted to share with him, you knew it was because you liked him. when you listened to a song that reminded you of him, you later realized it was about love. when you were feeling down or stressed because of the increasingly approaching date of university entrance exams, the only thought that comforted you was having him close to you, hugging you —and on days when your mind felt too bold, kissing you too.

but sae wasn’t there, not physically, at least. so you would settle for missing him, and talking with his brother about all the plans you three would make once he returned.

until he actually returned.

he didn’t tell anyone —not you, not his brother, not the few more friends he had before moving to spain and losing touch them. only his parents and his manager knew, since his stay was supposed to be short to adjust some legal paperwork.

you weren’t really sure why he hadn’t told you beforehand that he was coming back, and it would have made you very sad if id hadn’t made you so angry.

because rin had the bad luck of meeting him first.

the youngest itoshi called you that night, almost crying, his voice altered and choked as if he were ripping his chest apart while telling you about his encounter with his brother. “he broke our dream” he told you, practically sobbing over the phone “he said- he said he didn’t need me in his life anymore. he said…”

even though you knew rin wouldn’t lie to you, and it was too mean to be a prank, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him at first. sae wasn’t the most sensitive guy, definitely, but he wasn’t cruel. and, right after football, the most important things in his life where his little brother and you.

or that's what you thought, because when you went to his house after learning that he would stay longer than he had planned, he didn’t even look the same.

of course he had grown up —four years had passed, he was soon to be eighteen, and the exhaustive training had changed even his features. he was now taller, his gaze sharper, his whole body more toned. the short bangs he would always have falling over his forehead were now styled backwards, and his eyes had become a deeper shade of teal.

you would have gotten dizzy from how attractive he was now if it weren’t for something in his expression that threw you off. sae had never been overly smiley, but there was a hint of something —sadness, bitterness, or maybe disappointment—, that made him look like he had never smiled in his life at all.

“yn, hi.”

those were the first words that left his mouth after seeing you for the first time in four long years. not i missed you, or i’m really happy to see you. not even a good morning, how are you?, just a short and dry hi that got you even angrier than you already were.

at first, you tried not to lose your nerves. you were there for an explanation, yes, and to ask about his behavior with rin. you had waited a bit more than a week before going to visit sae after rin told you he had come back, since you were still upset with him for not telling you personally —but you couldn’t help but explode when he talked to you so nonchalantly after you blamed him for rin’s recently emotional breakdown.

it felt as if his argument with his brother wasn’t important at all. as if he didn’t think he should have let you know he was coming. as if you —you who had been his best friend his whole life, you who had been in love with him for the last two years— didn’t matter at all.

after you left his house, hands shaking, throat raspy and eyes red from crying so much and so loudly, you could only think that, at least, you were grateful rin wasn’t there —he had gone to that blue lock project he’d told you about a few days ago—. you were so frustrated with sae’s indifferent behavior and somehow cruel answers that you had shouted at him, only to end up sobbing and babbling words just like rin used to when he was younger, dreaming in the bed beneath both of you.

you didn’t get anything clear after that argument, only the shame of walking back to your house with your makeup smudged —the one you had put on for him to notice, in case he could see you had grown up too, and weren’t anymore the kid you used to be; or in case he had, at least once, thought about you the same way you had thought of him for the last two years.

that, and the uncomfortable ringing in your ears that sounded just like a heart cracking slowly and painfully after the loss of a best friend, and a first love.

masterlist. part two.

pls lmk what u think in the comments, reblogging, through messages, asks or wtv!! feedback is important to me in these first posts and i'd appreciate it a lot 🤲🏼

﹫luvseisagi, april 2025.

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lexicorp · 1 day ago

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Exactly^^

So much of these sorta things are incredibly nuanced, and not so clearly cut. (And the thing that can be even more frustrating in the fandom is when they apply the grey area redemption experience opportunity to one but not the other in the fucked up cycle- especially if it's the initial abuser who gets it, like that's so indicative of bullshit like that irl)

Getting that exposure to people who don't coincide with that narrowed lens of perception that isolation tactics very often present when someone is manipulated and other abuse--is just so important to improvement/recovery. Because it breaks that warped reality to affirm that the generalized negatively isn't accurate. That there are people like Arcane and Optimus. Because it's just so easy to get it stuck in your head in this suffocating string of memories that leads to assumptions and anxiety that invoke those things like "I can't say this because they'll think I'm weak/stupid, or it won't matter anyway to say it so what's the point?" iiiiiiit sucks.

I love your points analyzing the Starcane lore cuz it's just so fascinating the dichotomy of him recognizing in part that she's safe (thus engaging in "dangerous behavior" he'd avoid with Megatron), while /still/ being battle ready at any little sign of a threat between them. And how all the intricacies psychologically are processed are so fascinatingly fragged up- cuz it's so hard to break that cycle, and you need someone really patient there for it.

And that is really what I love about writing this sorta stuff is that even if there are so many bad ending situations irl where the person isn't able to get better, where they perpetually self destruct no matter what anyone does, we can seize that control to create the good ending to give that hope that the struggle is possible to get through. Which is why I want a canon focus on Starscream lore approached like this so damn bad.

Also man the thing of someone who you know talks shit coming up being all fake niceties is so dang triggering. Honestly that flavor of reaction is Star and IDW redeemed Megs to me, cuz like--

The salt and just instinctual reflex built upon past disaster is just so palpable

I love the note on "But once the storm calms, everyone's hurt", cuz damn does it encapsulate it all so well. No one ever really wins.

And honestly, I def feel that inclination to exploring the family dynamics a bunch, even if, or especially if, we ain't gonna touch it irl. Cuz approaching things fictionally, is far easier to process, far safer. Least that's what I've found. Hell, the majority of any of my social competency has been built on analysis and research/observations of fictional characters (or true crime-).

And man, those contrasting concepts of seeing the kids as warriors and having that urge to raise them to "be like him" (born a lot from thinking they need to be tough and drawing from how he was made to be so), while also having that underlying knowledge that it was fragged up, and that he doesn't want them to go through what he did. That is just one example of all the types of ways that can create those internal conflicts and confusions that in turn lead to lashing out in different ways, because most of the time it's hella hard to put our feelings and motivations into words, and even more difficult to be sure the answers we give are actually correct. Cuz boy to we know that Decepticon lies to himself- and it's all about feeling in control

Then the doge vs cat struggles geez it rlly just does just come out so much in those moments of frustration. And that regret and reflection on it afterward is something that's just so much /ow/ and guilt and yet, our brains are gonna have the reflex come out yet again when triggered. Its often navigating the aftermath of the inevitable I find is what rlly needs to be shown. Cuz preventative strategies are all great in theory, but for those times when you can't catch it, or don't hear it until after it comes out, what then? And when emotions are really fragging hard already, that part feels impossible.

[Star too having that thought towards Arcane and the kids or Optimus that they're weak/vulnerable and the "I can take advantage of that" controlling nature is so where the spiral falling into the cycle starts. Cuz the want to be on top after having been on the bottom is so real. Its just like that thing of wanting to get them back or eye for an eye of seeking satisfaction/release from the pent up frustration. And even feeling justified mirror behavior cuz the other person got away with it.]

i need to see more starop where starscream is having trouble breaking the cycle, so he falls back into his old habits.

one of the most difficult parts about breaking the cycle of abuse is trying your hardest to not repeat the behaviors your abuser imprinted on to you. speaking from experience, it can be very hard when you enter a healthy relationship and find yourself thinking like your abuser.

so imagine, starscream finally joins the autobots. by some unfortunate circumstance, they lose an important battle. optimus encourages his team, but privately, he retreats to somewhere isolated to think. starscream finds him and asks what he's doing.

when optimus admits that he's disappointed in himself for not doing the best he could on the battlefield, starscream finds himself scoffing. "well, maybe we wouldn't be in the position if you'd done a better job to begin with," he grumbles, his voice slowly escalating. "i thought you were supposed to be some great leader. or is your reputation all a myth? because of you, now the decepticons have the advantage, and we're one step closer to losing this war!" outraged that optimus hasn't said anything, he shouts, "are you even listening to me, prime?!"

when optimus turns his helm to look up, starscream is spooked by what he sees. he doesn't see the face of someone about to drop to his knees and beg for mercy. instead, the look in his normally lively blue optics can best be described as haunted, almost dead, but clinging onto the last shreds of life.

the realization hits starscream like enemy fire. his voice box shorts out as he trips over his own words, trying to take them back. one thought comes to mind, and he knows optimus is thinking it, too.

i sound like megatron.

#starscream #transformers #megatron #starcane #psychology ass lore #sometimes rlly hate how i can comprehend it at a distence and yet cant seem to fix anything with my own shit #tfw im writing this at almost 4am #mental health where #not here baybee

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piroulinewafers · 2 days ago

Note

Would you consider colonel caleb has mc under arrest/interrogation (like his intro) and doesn’t want to let her go 👀👀👀

Ur mind is so good I’d love to see what u come up with 😏

𝐚/𝐧: it's definitely not canon-complaint, i strayed away from why mc was there in the first place so you can take this as is and consider canon or consider it as is. i wasn't sure what to. not really sure what to tag this but i imagine his love for mc is so overwhelming it teeters on downright obsession. i'm so bad at tagging sigh.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: forced confinement, emotional manipulation, yandere/obsessive behaviour idk. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

the room was dim, sterile, the hum of the overhead lights the only sound save for the frantic thrum of her heart in her ears. she sat tied to the cold metal char, wrists behind her, tethered so tightly together the rope bit at her skin. her pulse jumped when the door creaked open.

boots, polished perfectly, struck the floor as the figure entered. she barely dated to lift her head, but some desperate, trembling part of her needed to. needed to know.

and then he was there, stepping into the weak halo of light.

caleb.

her breath hitched painfully in her chest.

she was more than certain it was him, even with his hat partially obscuring his face. he looked the same, and yet nothing like the boy she remembered. the brow hair, the sharp purple eyes, the broad shoulders that had once carried her across flooded fields without complaint were all still there. the faint freckles that dusted over his cheeks, the slight cut above his eyebrow that was barely visible under you knew where to look…

but now, there was a stiffness in his frame, a veiled violence barely restrained by the dark military uniform stretched across his body. his jaw was set hard, his gaze carved from stone. and when he smiled, it wasn’t kind— it was cold.

alive. caleb was alive. after all this time thinking he’d died… she couldn’t even summon the words. only a soft, broken sound escaped her lips.

alive in a way that made her chest tighten painfully, made her stomach knot into something ugly and sick. he moved like a shadow, his tall figure cutting a sharp silhouette. the silver insignia on his chest gleamed coldly, catching the light as he stepped forward.

the way her name fell past his lips sounded just like the last time he’d said it, warm and intense, but it was almost like it hurt him to say her name. his boots thudded with slow steps across the floor, drawing closer. “you look… just like i remember.”

her voice cracked as she rasped, “you’re supposed to be dead.”

the words felt thin. pointless. because caleb— this caleb— didn’t flinch. didn’t falter. he only smiled, a slow, almost pitying thing, as he stood in front of her.

“did you want that?” he questioned, his head tilting as he studied her— the way she trembled, the way she refused to properly meet his eyes. slowly, he lifted his hand, tapping a finger against the insignia pinned to his dark uniform jacket.

“i wonder…” he began slowly. “is it the uniform? or perhaps you still can’t reconcile the man i’ve become with the boy you used to know?”

she lashed out before she could think, trying to shove him away with her foot, trying to get even a fraction of distance between them. panic rose sharp and hot in her throat.

in a flash, an invisible force— his evol— slammed down against her leg, pinning it ruthlessly to the chair. she whimpered, trying to wrench it free, but it was like trying to move a mountain as she squirmed helplessly.

“don’t,” caleb said softly, his voice a low warning. his gloved hand slid up the side of her calf, lingering there in a way that made her entire body seize.

“if you try that again, i’ll tie your ankles together too. i don’t want to do that.”

the threat wasn’t loud, wasn’t even cruelly spoken. it was worse, soft.

her gaze darted around the room, upwards, to the corner— to the camera she knew as supposed to be recording. but in its place was a twisted, distorted piece of metal— lens crushed inward, metal housing twisted like paper. wrecked.

her breathing came faster now, shallow and panicked. her wrists strained uselessly against the binds behind her back. caleb simply watched her squirm, head tilting slightly, his expression almost… fascinated. as if she was some small, helpless thing he was studying.

one hand reached out, and without any resistance, he pushed a strand of hair away from her damp forehead, his touch almost… reverent.

he looked like caleb.

he sounded like caleb.

but every time he touched her, every time she flinched and he didn’t flinch back— she knew. this wasn’t him.

tears welled hot in her eyes, blurring the cruel, handsome face that hovered too close. her voice cracked under the weight of the words she choked out. “you killed him.”

caleb went very still.

she squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks, wracking her trembling chest.

“you killed my caleb,” she whispered, voice breaking on a sob. “you— you took him away..”

for a moment, the only sound in the room was the high, desperate whine of her breathing.

caleb exhaled slowly through his nose, the sound dark and heavy. his gloved hands tightened around the arms of the chair, the metal frame groaning in protest under the pressure of his evol.

“you think…” he said quietly, dangerously, “that i’m not him?”

she shook her head miserably, her legs trembling against the force that held them pinned together and prevented her from kicking them out at him.

“you’re not,” she rasped. “you’re not him. caleb would never— “

“never what?” he cut her off sharply, his voice like a whip crack in the silence. his eyes gleamed with something volatile, something wounded. “never fight to keep you safe? never protect you from people who would use you, abandon you, hurt you?”

his evol flexed again, the suffocating pressure locking her down harder, as if the very air had turned to iron around her.

“you don’t understand,” he snarled, leaning in until his forehead pressed against hers, trapping her, caging her like a little bird. “i died for you. i burned away everything that was weak, everything that would’ve let you slip through my fingers again. and you still think he’s dead?”

he pulled back just far enough to look at her, wild and furious and so desperately, heartbreakingly hers.

“i’m still here,” he insisted, his hand moving to press against her heart. “or did you just forget me, is that it?”

she shook her head helplessly, hating the sob that tore itself from her throat. “no, no, you’re not. caleb would have— he would’ve— “

that made him smile— a horrible, broken smile full of something twisted and hurt at her attempts to form a coherent sentence.

“maybe that’s why he had to die,” caleb murmured, almost to himself. “because he was stupid enough to think you could survive without him.”

his gloved hand slid down the side of her face, thumb wiping away a tear she couldn’t stop, his touch disturbingly tender against the brutal strength of his evol holding her legs down.

“but me,” he breathed, voice sinking into a hoarse, desperate whisper. “me— i’ll never let you go.”

she felt the bonds tighten once more, biting into her skin like invisible chains.

the ruined camera in the corner still hung limp from its crushed mount. no one was coming. no one was watching.

it was just the both of them. alone.

his thumb stroked absently along the curve of her jaw, as if he could soothe the terror out of her by touch alone. as if he could convince her body before he convinced her mind.

“i know,” he murmured, his voice low, hoars, raw with something deeper than anger. “I know it’s hard to see me like this. to accept things are a little different now.”

“but you will,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against hers again, his words ghosted against her lips, too close, too consuming. “you will.”

she whimpered weakly, trying to pull back, but he simply forced her to face him. his gloved fingers dug into her jaw.

“don’t,” he breathed against her mouth, his hand slipping down to her throat, not squeezing, just holding. his fingers splayed over the frantic pounding of her pulse. “don’t pull away from me. not again.”

“you’re hurting me,” she whispered, broken and small, her voice shaking as much as her body.

at that, caleb finally flinched— a sharp twist of pain flashing across his face— but he didn’t loosen his grip. if anything, he shifted closer, caging her tighter, as if terrified she might slip through his fingers if he even blinked.

“i’ll never hurt you,” he said, the words almost a prayer. “not in any way that matters.”

“you already have,” she sobbed, shuddering. “you already did the moment you— you killed him.” she couldn’t even bare to say his name anymore.

caleb’s hand around her throat trembled, barely, before he leaned in, so close that his next words were breathing directly into her mouth.

“then kill me too,” he murmured, reckless and raw. “hate me. break me. i don’t care. just stay, stay where i can keep you safe.”

it wasn’t like she had a choice.

#caleb x reader #love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x mc #caleb x you #xia yizhou #caleb x fem reader #🍪 reqs #caleb x y/n #cw forced confinement #cw yandere

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valeisaslut · 3 days ago

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i'm making a collide pinterest board based on collide cause i'm obsessed, and i'm doing sections for every album. do you have a name/aesthetic for readers debut album, or is that all up to us :3

AHHH THIS IS SO CUTE OMG first of all, i’m genuinely honored you’re making a collide board, i could sob. second — YES, i can totally give you the vibe i imagined for reader’s debut!!

COLLIDE POPSTAR!READER'S DEBUT ALBUM:

in the collide au, reader’s debut album is canonically called "diary of a disaster."

it’s the album that exploded after she won the voice — the one that took her from "talented winner of a singing competition" to "america’s sweetheart" and "pop princess."

she’s young, barely 19. she’s reckless. she’s in love, she’s pissed off, she’s messy, she’s magnetic. this debut feels like a diary someone ripped open and read under a disco ball — the confessions are too loud, too raw, but also too good to look away from.

its super 2000s inspired (and yep. people compared you to early britney spears all the time.) synths that sparkle and crackle like electricity, basslines that feel like heart palpitations, vocals (her baby voice aww) dripping with desperation and sugar all at once. it's pop music that knows it's pop music — but it's self-aware, slightly unhinged, a little dangerous.

lyrics like i love you. i hate you. i want you. i don’t need you. come back. don’t you dare come back. full of contradictions — and that’s the point. it’s the soundtrack of someone figuring out who they are while breaking their own heart a little along the way.

the lead singles (click to listen):

୨ৎ “make me like you”

୨ৎ“my attitude”

୨ৎ "deja vu"

୨ৎ "teenage dream"

this is before the reader we know now — before all the scandals, the grammy kisses, the tabloid chaos. this is when she was still trying to be "good," still wrapping barbed wire in pink bows. but even here, there’s something a little too wild in her smile. something that says i want everything, and i’ll burn for it if i have to.

people say now it’s one of the most chaotic and genuine debut albums of its generation. it’s still the blueprint for her career. diary of a disaster wasn't just an album—it was a warning. one nobody listened to.

(ellie has the original vinyl in her LA apartment. signed. stolen. not returned. she says your baby teenager voice is the cutest thing she has ever heard.)

is it TOO obvious i had this all planned and i was just waiting for someone to bring it up orrrr

ALSO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND THE PINTEREST BOARD WHEN YOU FINISH IT PLS PLS PLS I NEED ITTTTTTTTTTT

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waterloggedchest · 2 days ago

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Finn the Fishbowl~ "That was clam-orous!" "Can't wait to seal ya later!" "You're being reeeeeel quiet today"

FINNIEEEEEE FINNFINNFINFINFIFNFIFNFNFJJFBFFJJDKSNDHSJFGGF~ Below the cut you can find my HCs for him!!

This is the first of many references I'll make of the cast! Upcoming you can expect Gigi & Shrimpo <3

THEME SONG~ A Trout, No Doubt — The Bean Tones

AMAB masc agender aka libraboy + it/he prns.

Omni ace demiromantic.

Blue colour <3, no text variation.

Dating Gigi and Shrimpo! More about that later.

When he gets flustered/embarrassed/really mad the water in his head starts boiling (poor Barnaby Wilikers be getting cooked 💀).

Autistic as shit.

Super confident, blunt and forward when in a group, gets shy asf when alone with people he likes (cough Gigi & Shrimpo cough cough). Though he gains his confidence back after starting to date them.

Has some kinda speech impediment due to his missing tooth or just speaks funny in some way.

If he wore shoes they'd either be anti-slip + steel-toed, crocs or flip flops :P.

If you tap his glass he gets dizzy and disoriented, like tapping the aquarium of a fish.

He also gets very disoriented if all the water is taken out of his head, but he does adjust after a bit. This also applies to him getting flustered/embarrassed/etc. since the water starts evaporating. While the water in his head is not essential for his survival, the rest of the water in his body is like blood.

Under high stress his glass cracks a bit, heals over time (just slap a dand-aid on it!)

Scraps sometimes just calls him over to clean her brushes in his head 💀.

He'd let Pebble sip water out of its head on a hot day.

Gigi styles him like a cocktail; with a straw, umbrella, orange slice n all (ngl missed opportunity for the actual prismatic pal skin).

Both him and Teagan need to put in a big ahh cork to go to sleep [This is canon n confirmed by qwel, I just wanted to add it here cuz funny].

On good terms with: Teagan, Rodger, Brightney, Goob, Sprout, Poppy, Connie & Dandy.

His friends are: Gigi (qpp <33333), Shrimpo (boyfie in denial), Scraps (moot friend with Gigi), Shelly, Yatta, Boxten, Looey, Razzle (best buddies, supposedly canon).

These people despise him: GLISTEN, Vee, Cosmo, Dazzle.

Anyone I haven't mentioned uhhhhh I'll get to it when I do their ref sheets.

He doesn't hate anybody, he's too bbg for that ❤️

He's Poppy's brother cuz like... she's a bubble.

NGL likes to be praised a lot (good boy— WHO SAID THAT??).

Has spilled all of his water over Gigi/Shrimpo multiple times when cuddling (tries limiting his pda now, he refuses to wear a cork in public).

Smooch giver n enjoyer. I imagine him to bend down to smooch Gigi/Shrimpo on the forehead and giggling, repeatedly.

He does NOT eat fish. If you eat fish in front of him or even just mention doing so he gets upset. Doesn't like meat very much either but that's just a preference. He can forgive Scraps for it tho, she has the cat-like creature pass.

His toon room is half normal and half pool, his bed is an inflatable mattress in the water; anchored there with chains so it doesn't float around a lot. IDK WHO I PARTIALLY STOLE THIS FROM I THINK IT WAS A DW HCS ASK.

DESIGN NOTES~

His torso is see-through like those transparent frogs and fish! He gets shy about it tho so he's covered up 90% of the time. Due to this his blood is just uh... water?

His head is hard glass and doesn't break easily, as mentioned above the rest of his body is like transparent fish :].

Has small scales all over his body, they're soft tho?? idk how to explain this mannnnn.

The darker parts in his tail resemble the bones inside! Just like the torso + some random splotches to make it look less empty loll.

His regular pants are like,, skin tight and waterproof?? Like some kinda swimming suit IDK. I still draw paw-like feet on him cuz i think it's cute :3.

Body hair mghfhmfhmfgmfmh....,,,.,,.,

While in the reference it isn't shown, the prismatic pal version has like... an iridescent coating? His scales slightly change colour depending how you look at him.

SHIP INFO~

Him and Gigi started dating pretty early on, they just got along really well. They are both very affectionate (except for pda as mentioned in the headcanons above) and are pretty open about their relationship. Gigi was also getting closer to Shrimpo, even if he hated Finn with all his heart. Due to Gigi dating the both of them and needing to give them both attention, they just got pushed together for it to be easier for them. Finn liked Shrimpo quite a bit already and was very nervous around him, feeling the need to fidget and distract himself. At times he acted a bit irrationally around Shrimpo and this causes them to get into...questionable situations; random hugs, caressing Shrimpo's tail, grabbing his hand, trying to get closer to him, etc. Shrimpo was just in denial the whole time, he had heavy internalised h0mophobia and refused to accept his polyamorous status.

At first, Shrimpo just didn't react to Finn's advances and looked at him weird most times; when it happened around Gigi, they just decided to push them together even more—Inviting them both to group activities and bringing them both on dates together. Finn just got clingier and Shrimpo got more frustrated for letting him do so. Gigi and Scraps started plotting even more to make them date, and since she needed an extra pair of hands for a project (and needed to clean her brushes in SOMEBODY's head) she invited them over to help. Finn & Shrimpo really didn't do anything the whole time, Gigi and Scraps were the only ones working, they instead sat there in a corner to chat a bit. Shrimpo accidentally let the fact that he didn't actually hate Finn slip out, after that their interaction became a whole lot more awkward.

Shrimpo tried to damage control by immediately doubling down with his regular jabs at Finn. But seeing how he started to recede and be nervous again made Shrimpo feel guilty; he stopped talking to him all-together for a few weeks. Gigi had to step in to bring them close again, physically locking them together in a room forcing them to talk. Shrimpo had to apologise and promise to never hurt Finn again, it was awkward but they made amends and held each other for a bit.

Gigi always thought that it'd be cute for them to get along, especially due to Shrimpo's initial commitment to "hating" Finn. They wanted the best for all three of them, and knowing how jealous Shrimpo can get of others this was the best option. Over time, they got closer and closer, Shrimpo started to respond better to Finn's advances. He gave in and started to be affectionate with Finn like he did with Gigi, not minding the three of them cuddling together; the awkwardness of him being there gone.

This will get updated over time, hopefully! Seal ya later!

Last updated: 27/05/2025

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