#booh writes

[incohorace]

frankly if jim steinman were still alive i would just fucking. email him

[zerocoded]

summary: arguments rise between the two of you, but what you don't know is that caleb would let you punch him how many times you wished.

authors note: banner credits to the one and only cutie who draw this and i found it on pinterest! i decided to split this in two because the word count was already pass 16k, so yeah. posting the smut in the next chapter! this sucks bc i don't know how to write happy characters, i'm so sorry. i wish you a happy reading! this series was supposed to be three chapters but now it's four, i hope you don't mind hehe, enjoy!

warnings: HEAVY ANGST • bad talk about ourselves again (booh) • doubts and feeling of betrayal and guilt • we get introspective all the time im sorry • MINOR INJURY • mentions of psychological and physical torture (in the past) • obsessive!caleb • UNCANNON bc i finished this before caleb release so this is the lore i created ok • hurt/comfort • THIS IS NOT A LIGHT READING, but i promise it'll get better next chapter

word count: 9.9k

the first time you see caleb after the incident┃caleb uses you as a hostage at the farspace fleet┃you're here┃caleb teaches you his love language

colonel caleb wore real gold on his uniform and carried a fire in his gaze. his steps were precise, almost mechanical, and his towering height commanded respect wherever he went. his voice never wavered, firm and unyielding, and any flaws he might have were buried beneath the weight of his presence. the insignias on his chest gleamed like silent declarations of victory, each one a testament to battles fought and won.

the metal where there should have been flesh and bone was a source of both mystery and awe to his subordinates. what might have seemed a reminder of pain to him—his bionic arm, a testament to his devotion—was, to others, a symbol of unyielding strength. even the faint hum of its servos as he moved carried an air of authority, a silent declaration that he had sacrificed and endured more than most could fathom.

but in the quiet of his own room, colonel caleb felt less like the commander everyone revered and more like the boy you had grown up with.

his height, which once seemed awe-inspiring, became almost comical in the simplicity of his surroundings. even though the entire space was designed to accommodate him—a luxury that often left you struggling with the proportions—he still seemed impossibly large as he moved around in a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. if you closed your eyes, you could almost see a younger version of him—slightly shorter, a little less broad—fumbling around granny’s kitchen, trying to fix something for the two of you to eat before bed.

after you both got out of that conference room, caleb seemed recharged in a way that was impossible to ignore. despite the distance still lingering between you and the stark confusion of where you both now stood, caleb seemed brighter, lighter, as if the mere fact that you were sleeping in the room next to his was enough to bring him back to life.

that observation made you see him in a different light, made your resolve crack just enough for the resentment you’d been holding onto to soften by the end of the day. it was impossible to ignore how palpable his love for you was, woven into the very air of his chambers, clinging to every word he spoke and every glance he stole.

it left you feeling recklessly cherished. dangerously so.

the notion was both thrilling and unsettling—how much power you held over him, how much of himself he seemed willing to give just to keep you near. and with that realization, the suffocating weight that had pressed on your chest since the moment he appeared at your front door in linkon city five days ago began to ease, just a little. it was still there, still sharp and heavy, but the edges had softened with the knowledge that, in some inexplicable way, you had always been his anchor.

since the false interrogation he’d orchestrated, caleb had taken to sleeping on the sofa, giving you the bed without question. you often woke to find him there, sprawled in uncomfortable positions that looked at odds with his commanding presence during the day. his sacrifice was unspoken, like so many of his gestures—a quiet, steady offering of himself to make you feel safe. 

his voice carried a tender, teasing lilt every time he spoke to you, as if he couldn’t help but let his affection seep into his words, smoothing the sharp edges of the bluntness that a few days ago defined him.

in a way, you couldn’t decide if you were grateful—or terrified—to be the center of this man’s world.

you had experienced something you hadn’t in years: the giddiness you were often reproved for as a child. it crept up on you in the quiet moments—the teasing glint in caleb’s eye, his sharp wit, the way he quirked an eyebrow when he was trying to get a rise out of you. his funny remarks and old quirks, things you thought you’d forgotten entirely, came rushing back, leaving you disarmed.

you found yourself laughing at things you hadn’t noticed were funny, smiling in ways you hadn’t realized you still could. the sense of euphoria was intoxicating, almost overwhelming. it burned through the shadows of doubt that had lingered since you arrived, leaving you to wonder if caleb’s presence—his persistence, his warmth—was the very thing you needed to feel whole again. 

but that wasn’t all. caleb had made it his mission to spend every waking second with you now, as if making amends for the two days he left you alone when you first arrived at skyhaven. he cooked for you—something he didn’t have time for before. his presence became tangible in ways it hadn’t been in years. he started tagging you along for his tasks outside the dorms, immersing you in the controlled chaos of his world.

every time you asked a question, his answers were immediate, clear, and unguarded. every time you wished for something, he set his mind to making it happen. just that morning, when you wondered aloud how daa pilots coordinated emergency landings so precisely, he’d whisked you away to the base, brimming with enthusiasm, to show you the mechanics of their operations. he even placed you inside a trainer aircraft, insisting you try it out—his face lighting up like a proud instructor—only relenting when your panicked pleas got you safely back on the ground.

he almost sounded like a nerd when he explained things, which you found oddly endearing. familiar.

even in moments of uncertainty and vulnerability, caleb remained steadfast. his decision to confine you to his chambers during the first two days—something that had frustrated and angered you—still lingered in your mind as an unfair choice. yet, he never hovered. instead, he occupied himself with tasks in the background, always ready to comfort you if needed but careful not to suffocate you. as if he understood that no amount of effort could undo the hurtful choices that had brought you both to this point.

the storm of emotions from your first 72 hours here in skyhaven still stole the air from your lungs during the nights, leaving you gasping in a silence that felt too loud. you cried yourself to sleep with an ache that defied words, an emptiness that gnawed at your chest and refused to let go. it wasn’t just the weight of what you had learned—it was the crushing realization that so much of your life had been shaped by truths you never knew, by choices made for you without your consent.

caleb noticed everything. he noticed how your showers stretched on endlessly, the way the sound of running water masked the quiet sobs you thought you could hide. he saw how your eyes darted away from his when the weight of his gaze felt too much to bear. the way your hand would unconsciously clutch at your chest, as if holding yourself together, as if your heart might betray you if you let it go.

he never mentioned it. not once. his silence wasn’t dismissive; it was deliberate, as though he understood that words could only do so much. instead, he stayed close—close enough that you could feel the steady presence of him, grounding you when you felt like you might unravel. but he never pushed. he let you have your space, retreating to the far corners of the room or busying himself with tasks that gave you room to breathe. 

one night, when the weight of it all became too much, you broke. the tears came suddenly, unstoppable, as if they’d been waiting for this exact moment to escape. you didn’t even try to hide them this time, your body trembling as you sat on the edge of the bed, clutching your knees to your chest.

caleb was there before you could even process his movement, his warmth engulfing you as he pulled you into his arms. his grip was firm but gentle, like he was holding something fragile. he didn’t say anything at first, just rocked you slightly, his breath steady and grounding against the chaos in your mind.

when the murmurs started, they were soft, barely audible over the sound of your sobs. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough and full of something that made your chest ache even more. “i’m so, so sorry, princess. i know. i know.”

his lips brushed against your forehead, lingering there for a moment before moving to your hair, your temple, your ear—soft, fleeting touches that carried an apology too big for words. you felt his chest shudder beneath your cheek, and it took you a moment to realize that his breaths were uneven.

caleb was crying too.

his words, his presence, the steady beat of his heart against your ear—it all worked together to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself. you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, the two of you wrapped in each other, but eventually, exhaustion won. your sobs quieted, your breathing evened out, and before you knew it, sleep took you.

the next morning, he didn’t bring it up. instead, his apologies came in other ways.

he made you breakfast without a word, setting the plate down in front of you before retreating to clean up the kitchen. when you needed a moment alone, he gave it without question, hovering just close enough to remind you that you weren’t truly alone.

it didn’t fix everything, not by a long shot. but it was a start. and for now, that was enough.

caleb’s quiet determination to make things right showed in ways he didn’t even realize. but for all his efforts to rebuild the fragile connection between you, there were moments when his own vulnerability slipped through the cracks.

the first time you truly saw his bionic arm—not just his hand but as an undeniable reality—was one of those moments. it wasn’t something he wanted you to see.

you caught glimpses when he wasn’t looking, stealing moments to trace his body with your eyes, searching for the details you still weren’t used to. it was as though he wore it like a symbol of his own ruin when in front of you, a quiet badge of loss. he always hid it beneath long sleeves as if punishing himself for its existence.

the only time he didn’t—when necessity gave way to something more human—was on the first morning after the investigation episode. unable to bear staying in the bed that smelled so much like him, you’d wandered into the kitchen, drawn by the soft clatter of pans and the faint smell of food. and there he was, standing by the stove in a sleeveless white shirt, his bionic arm fully exposed for the first time.

at first, you hadn’t noticed it, your groggy mind too focused on the surreal sight of him cooking breakfast. but when his eyes met yours, everything shifted. his posture stiffened, and his entire demeanor changed, as if you had caught him in a moment of weakness. the confidence he usually carried so effortlessly vanished, replaced by a flash of vulnerability so stark it made your chest tighten. it was as if your gaze alone had stripped him bare, as if you weren’t supposed to see him this way.

as if he didn’t want you to see him this way.

he turned his body slightly, instinctively shielding the metal limb from view. the movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but you noticed. it was in the way he avoided your eyes after that, focusing too intently on flipping the eggs in the pan, his silence louder than any words could be. it was in the way his shoulders tensed, betraying the emotions he wouldn’t let surface.

you let it go for now, though the image stayed with you, lingering like an unanswered question.

it was your sixth day in skyhaven. yesterday evening had been spent making phone calls to friends and colleagues, reassuring them after your sudden disappearance. you’d explained the situation to everyone who mattered, carefully crafting the details to sound less alarming than they truly were. but one call had remained undone—zayne. the reasons for not dialing his number sat heavy on your chest, unspoken and hard to name. but you left it at that.

the sight of caleb cooking should’ve felt mundane by now, honestly. you’d seen him shirtless more times than you could count, growing up together had ensured that. you both had been at the mercy of puberty and hormones, awkwardness softened by familiarity. but something about the way he stood now, his presence so certain yet so quietly domestic, struck you differently. 

it was a stark contrast to the lean boy who used to tease and prod at your attention; now, caleb stood tall and broad in front of the stove, his muscles shifting with precision as he moved, every action pulling a reaction from you—a warmth that crept into your cheeks as a flashback of your first kiss in your apartment left you momentarily off balance.

all the thinking and pondering you’d done over the past three days hadn’t wavered the anger simmering inside you—not yet. caleb might have also been a victim, but he wasn’t innocent in the slightest. his choices, no matter how well-intentioned, had left scars on you that you couldn’t ignore. and you’d finally decided how to deal with it.

you were going to punch him.

in the face, preferably.

it wasn’t the most rational plan, but it was the only way you could see to start letting go of the frustration and rage that had been building inside you. you could start your healing journey from there. but first, you needed this. he had faked his death, left you to mourn him alone. if that didn’t earn him a solid right hook, what would?

so you stood in the doorway of his bathroom, your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides, watching caleb move around the kitchen like he belonged there. his back was to you, broad and steady, muscles shifting under his skin with every precise movement. his bionic arm rested at his side, but you refused to let your gaze linger on it—it wasn’t the time.

he glanced over his shoulder, offering you a small, warm smile. “morning,” he said casually, as if the weight of the last few days hadn’t fractured something between you.

and then you saw it—that small, almost imperceptible movement. the way he shifted slightly to hide the metal limb from your line of sight, as if shielding himself from judgment he thought he might find in your eyes. the gesture was subtle, but it struck you like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a fire that had been smoldering in your chest.

why did he keep doing that? why did he act like he had to hide from you? as if you were the one who couldn’t accept what he’d become, when he was the one who had shattered your world?

the tick of irritation swelled into something sharper, something more visceral. you stepped into the room, your movements slow but deliberate, the sound of your footsteps catching his attention.

“why do you do that?” you asked, your voice low but edged with something brittle.

his brow furrowed, his eyes flicking to you as he turned, uncertain. “do what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing toward his arm. “you keep hiding it. like you think i care about that more than everything else you’ve done.”

his expression shifted, a flicker of something—shame, maybe—crossing his face before he looked away, focusing on the pan in front of him. “it’s not that simple, pipsqueak” he said, his voice quieter now, guarded.

“no, it’s not,” you shot back, stepping closer. “nothing about this is simple. but you don’t get to act like you’re the only one carrying this weight.”

his grip on the spatula tightened, his jaw clenching, but he didn’t respond. that silence, that calm restraint, only made your anger boil over.

“you don’t get to hide, caleb,” you said, your voice rising. “not from me. not after everything you’ve put me through.”

he turned then, fully facing you, his expression hard but not unkind. “what is it with the lashing out just now? i’m not hiding,” he said evenly. “i just—”

“you just what?” you interrupted, stepping closer still. “you just thought it’d be easier to let me think you were dead? to leave me to grieve while you played hero for people who didn’t even care about you?”

his eyes widened, the calm facade he usually wore cracking just enough to show the vulnerability underneath. “i—i told you i’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet but edged with something raw. “i explained my reasons at the time, it was not like that”

you almost felt pity for him—almost. but the ache in your chest, the anger clawing at your throat, wouldn’t let you soften. not yet.

“then what was it like, caleb?” you demanded, your voice trembling with the weight of your frustration. “because from where i’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like betrayal.”

the words hung heavy in the air, the silence between you thick with tension. you could feel your chest tightening, the storm of emotions swirling inside you threatening to spill over.

and then, without thinking, you took a step forward and swung your fist. your knuckles connected with his jaw, the force of the punch sending a sharp jolt up your arm, but it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fight wanderers by yourself. he stumbled back a step, his hand flying to his face as his eyes widened in shock.

caleb had expected it—not like this, not right now—but the moment your fist collided with his jaw, a strange sense of inevitability settled over him. he let out a sharp breath, his fingers brushing against the tender spot where your punch had landed. the sting was immediate, but it was nothing compared to the ache that had been simmering inside him for days.

he stayed still for a moment, the weight of your anger washing over him like a tide he’d been bracing for but never truly prepared to face. you were trembling, chest heaving, your knuckles still clenched as if you were debating whether to hit him again. 

caleb straightened slowly, his jaw throbbing as he met your gaze. 

the room was silent, save for your ragged breathing and the faint sound of the pan sizzling on the stove.

for a moment, you thought he might lash out, might yell or demand an explanation. but instead, he let out a soft, incredulous laugh, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

“you’ve got a hell of a punch, pipsqueak” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, though his eyes still carried that familiar weight.

“don’t,” you said sharply, your fists still clenched at your sides. “don’t laugh this off. don’t pretend like you didn’t deserve it.”

his smirk faded, replaced by something softer, more serious. “you’re right,” he said quietly. “i did.”

those words took the wind out of you, leaving you standing there, unsure of what to do next. the anger that had driven you moments ago was still there, but it felt different now—muted, as if the act of hitting him had let some of it go.

“feel better?” he asked, his tone light but not mocking, hand still holding his jaw.

but his calmness, his ability to shrug off what you’d done as if it were nothing, only made something inside you snap. “no,” you said sharply, your voice trembling. “no, i don’t feel better. because none of this changes anything, caleb. none of this fixes what you did.”

he watched you quietly, his expression steady, patient. that calmness—the same calmness you’d once found reassuring—now felt like a wall you couldn’t break through. it only fueled the storm building inside you.

“you left me,” you said, your voice rising as your emotions spilled out, unchecked. “you lied to me throughout all my life, you should’ve told me something, should’ve… i don’t know!”

his lips parted as if to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“and then you show up again—alive, bigger than life, barking me orders as if i was a stranger to you. you think you can just apologize and everything will go back to how it was? do you have any idea how much you broke me?”

your voice cracked on the last words, and the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill. you stepped closer to him, your fists pounding weakly against his chest, frustration and grief bubbling over. “i should hate you forever, caleb.”

he didn’t move, didn’t stop you, his hands hovering at his sides as if he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to touch you. not when your words sounded so heavy.

"god," you felt your voice crack and tears started forming on your eyes.

caleb wasn’t allowed to say anything but, “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice breaking under the weight of his words. “i’m so sorry.”

“stop saying that!” you cried, your voice rising in a mixture of anger and desperation. “sorry doesn’t fix this. it doesn’t fix us, you asshole!”

your fists hit his chest again, harder this time, and he caught your wrists, gently but firmly. “i know,” he said, his voice steady now. “but it’s all i have. it’s all i can give you right now, princess.”

his grip loosened, and before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured again, his voice low and heavy with emotion. “i know i hurt you. i know i can’t fix it overnight. but i swear, i’ll spend the rest of my life trying if you let me.”

his words broke something inside you, and the tears finally spilled over. you buried your face against his chest, sobbing openly as his arms tightened around you. his hand rested on the back of your head, cradling you gently as if he were afraid you might shatter completely.

“don’t give up on me,” he whispered, his voice raw. “i’ll be okay if you hate me forever, as long as you’re happy. that’s all that matters.”

“don’t say things like that,” you choked out, your voice muffled against him. “don’t be so dependent on me. you’re a dick.”

his arms around you tensed for a moment before loosening, his breath brushing the top of your head. “i’m trying not to be,” he murmured, his tone so soft it felt like a confession. “but you’re the only thing that kept me steady until now, Y/N. the only thing that makes me feel like… like i’m still human.”

his words struck you, sharp and raw, cutting through the haze of your emotions. you pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “caleb…” you started, but you didn’t know what to say, how to piece together the whirlwind in your chest into anything coherent.

he gave you a small, almost broken smile, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i don’t mean to put that on you. i know it’s not fair, and i don’t want you to feel like you have to carry me too. but… i just need you to know that you matter. more than anything.”

“you can’t do that,” you said, your voice trembling. “you can’t put me on this pedestal. it’s not right. it’s not fair to either of us.”

“i know,” he said again, his voice cracking slightly. “but you’re not on a pedestal. you’re… you’re home. and that’s not something i can turn off, pipsqueak.”

fuck. why did he sound so broke too?

you pulled back slightly, wiping at your face as you looked up at him. his eyes were red-rimmed, tears threatening to fall but never quite spilling over. it was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him.

he glanced down at his bionic arm, flexing the fingers absently before letting it rest at his side. “i hate this thing,” he said suddenly, his voice low and quiet. “it’s a constant reminder of when i hurt you the most.”

you frowned, confused. “caleb…”

“ever wanted me to lose more than this arm,” he continued, his tone growing darker. “they wanted me… broken. half of my body was supposed to be destroyed in their ‘plan.’ they thought they could control me better that way. make me more… dependent.”

your stomach churned at his words. “why didn’t you tell me? why do you keep hiding it from me?”

he shook his head, looking away. “i’ve already put you through enough. i didn’t want to burden you with this.”

it was strange how the weight of forgiveness didn’t feel like a single, decisive moment. it wasn’t a clean break or a sudden realization; it was more like erosion—a gradual softening of the jagged edges of anger, resentment, and grief. it was in the quiet moments, like now, when his voice was stripped of its usual command, when he stumbled over his words, when his walls came down just enough for you to see the pain he carried. it made you question your own anger, not because it wasn’t valid, but because holding onto it felt heavier than letting it go.

"but i want to know," you pressed, your voice trembling. "i need to understand, caleb. i need to know what they did to you. i need to understand why."

forgiving him didn’t mean forgetting what he’d done. it didn’t erase the nights you’d cried yourself to sleep, the hollow ache of mourning someone who wasn’t really gone. but it meant acknowledging that he’d suffered too, that his choices—terrible as they were—had been born from a place of love and desperation. of obsession.

as much as you wanted to cling to your anger, you couldn’t ignore the cracks forming in its foundation. his actions, his words—they chipped away at your defenses, forcing you to see the pain he carried. and in those moments, you realized that forgiveness wasn’t about absolving him of what he’d done. it was about freeing yourself from the weight of it. it was about choosing to let go, not for him, but for you. because holding onto that anger wasn’t just hurting him—it was hurting you too.

his jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together as he finally looked at you. his eyes were dark, stormy, filled with something that looked too much like shame. "it’s too much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "it’s graphic, and cruel, and i can’t… i fucking can’t make you see me like that, Y/N."

"i already see you, caleb," you countered, stepping closer still, voice cracking over something close to desperation. "i see the way you try to protect yourself by being harsh towards everyone, the way you tense up when you think no one’s looking. i see how much pain you’re in, and i see how hard you’re trying to hide it. you don’t have to protect me from this. don’t keep lying to me, i beg you."

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, his hand running through his hair in frustration. "you don’t have to beg for anything when it comes to me, princess," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "it’s not about protecting you. it’s about not giving you more reasons to hate me, do you understand? ever was shit to both of us, they still are."

"i don’t hate you," you said quickly, your voice firm. "i’m angry, yes. i’m hurt. but i don’t hate you, caleb. sometimes i wish i could."

his eyes softened, but the anguish in them didn’t fade. "i don’t want to fucking trigger you, princess, just let it go," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, flesh hand running through his brown locks in a dismissive act. he took a step back and turned to the stove, turning the fire off while avoiding your gaze.

“i can’t forgive you if you keep hiding these things.” you crossed your arms, looking at his posture, “if i thought i couldn’t handle, i wouldn’t be asking you this right now. why did you let them do it?”.

he shook his head, his hands coming up to cover his face. "you have no idea," he said, his voice breaking again. "the limits i’d go to for you. the things i’d endure. i’d let them do it all over again if it meant you’d be safe. i’d let them tear me apart piece by piece, because i—" he stopped, his hands dropping to his sides as he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten, as if just imagining his devotion was already physically exhausting. "because i love you. so much it terrifies me."

he looked away again, his jaw clenching as his fingers flexed at his sides. you wondered for a second if he expected to hear those words in return one day.

"princess, i just don’t want to drag you into something you can’t unhear. something that’ll stick in your head and haunt you the way it does me.” breakfast long gone, he turned to the counter and leaned his weight on it, crossing his arms over his chest.

"but that’s not fair," you pressed, stepping closer, your voice softer now but no less determined. "you keep everything locked up inside, like you should be this invincible man. i want to know. you don’t have to protect me from this, for fuck's sake."

his shoulders sagged, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he rubbed his hand over his face. "you think i’m protecting you?" he asked, his voice low and pained. "i’m protecting me, princess. because if i see that look in your eyes—the one that says you pity me, or worse, that you’re scared of me—i don’t think i can handle that. not from you."

you reached out to touch his arm. "i’m not scared of you. and i’m not going to pity you. just fucking tell me already."

his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, the silence between you thick and heavy.

he shook his head, his bionic fingers twitching as his hands curled into fists. "they broke me, okay?" he said, his voice raw and trembling as if his patience were running thin from your persistence. "they strapped me down, cut me open while i was still awake just to see how much i could take. and i took it, all of it, because i thought if i didn’t, they’d turn to you instead. and the fucked-up part? i was willing to let them do it again if it meant you were safe."

your breath hitched, the vividness of his confession slicing through you like a blade.

“this arm,” he points and looks at it, “it has to go through repair oftenly, it hurts like a bitch, the electric current, everything… they keep increasing the power every time i go there.”

"do you know what it’s like to hear them talk about you like you’re a bargaining chip?" he continued, his voice rising slightly, anger and despair mingling in his tone. "to know they saw you as leverage, something they will certain have on the future? i couldn’t let that happen. so i let them do whatever they wanted to me, make me stronger. and yeah, it hurt. but it was nothing compared to the thought of fucking losing you, Y/N."

you swallowed hard, tears prickling at your eyes as his words sank in. "you shouldn’t have had to make that choice," you said, your voice shaking. "it wasn’t your responsibility to protect me like that. gran should’ve… she shouldn’t have put that on a child."

"but it was," he insisted, his voice firm despite the emotion cracking through it. "it’s always been my responsibility. ever since we were kids, i promised myself i’d keep you safe. and i failed you once—i’m not failing you again."

was granny josephine truly blameless, or had she knowingly set these events in motion? had she purposefully placed caleb in harm’s way, using the innocent, budding love he had for you as a tool to safeguard her fears and protect her secrets? had she manipulated his loyalty as a child, planting seeds that would root so deeply they’d shape his entire existence?

the silence that followed was thick, heavy with unspoken emotions. you stepped closer, your hand finding his and squeezing gently. "you didn’t fail me," you said softly, your voice breaking. "you’d died for me more than once, that’s already too fucking much, caleb."

his patience made you wonder: how many times had caleb carried this same burden? how many nights had he endured this same hollow ache you have been feeling these past few days, but without someone by his side to share it with?

did he ever feel alone? did he feel the crushing isolation when cruel people, hidden behind the guise of scientists, broke and prodded at his skin? when they searched for cracks in his mind, trying to shatter him into pieces so irreparable that the boy he once was could never return? had he felt the same suffocating weight you carried now—the weight of being someone else’s creation? of knowing that your very existence was shaped by murderous intent and corruptive minds, calling your body their experiment?

ever hadn’t succeeded in making him a servant—he told you that—, but hadn’t they almost gotten there? hadn’t they stripped away enough of his humanity to leave him standing like this, a shadow of the boy you once knew?

he looked at you then, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "i don’t deserve your forgiveness," he said, his voice barely audible.

"you may not deserve it," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "but i think i want to give it to you anyway." the words felt fragile, like they might shatter under their own weight. you looked at his bionic arm, its polished surface catching the light, and noticed the way his jaw tensed, just barely. he didn’t say anything, but the tension in the air told you he was bracing himself, waiting for whatever came next.

you also expected him to say something, to break the tension that hung in the air, but the silence stretched so long it began to feel awkward. just as you were about to open your mouth and fill the void with some kind of sentence—or at least an acknowledgment of what had just happened—you saw him grimace slightly, his hand coming up to palm his left cheek.

oh. right. you had hit him. you’d almost forgotten.

"oh shit, i’m sorry," you blurted, guilt suddenly surging up as you watched him rub his cheek.

but he waved it off, not even glancing your way. "don’t worry, princess," he said, his voice casual, though there was a faint edge to it. "i’ll finish breakfast and put some ice on it."

"are you sure?" you asked hesitantly, your guilt gnawing at you.

he nodded, finally meeting your eyes. "yeah, I’m sure. it’s not the first time i’ve been hit, and it won’t be the last."

there was an odd kind of amusement in his tone, but it didn’t do much to ease your discomfort.

"do you want something else to eat? the eggs are probably cold by now," he added, gesturing vaguely toward the pan on the counter, his tone shifting back to the calm, measured one you were used to.

you didn’t know what to say, the words catching in your throat. everything about the moment felt strange, like you were navigating a space you didn’t fully understand. "no, i’m fine," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended. "i’ll… i’ll eat later. i think i want to take a shower first."

his gaze lingered on you for a moment, unreadable, before he gave a small nod. "take your time, princess," he said, turning his attention back to the stove. 

you nodded awkwardly, already stepping back toward the door. the guilt and confusion swirling in your chest made your movements feel clumsy, uncoordinated. you needed a moment to yourself, away from his steady presence and the weight of everything unsaid between you. a shower sounded like the perfect escape.

that morning, you skipped breakfast. instead, you locked yourself in his room—ironic, wasn’t it?—and spent the hours replaying the moment over and over again in your head. the sound of your fist connecting with his jaw, the way he stumbled back, the stunned look in his eyes.

his words, your words—they lingered, looping in your mind like a broken record. every syllable from that morning carried a weight you hadn’t anticipated, carving deeper into your already-frayed emotions. you could still hear the way his voice had trembled, how it softened in places you didn’t expect. and the way yours had cracked, betraying the storm you were trying so hard to contain.

you hated that you couldn’t let it go. that you kept picking apart every second of the exchange, trying to find something you missed, some meaning hidden between the lines. 

the shower ended up lasting an embarrassing thirty-five minutes, and by the time you got out, your skin felt like it was starting to peel. turns out, skyhaven’s technology was far more advanced and exclusive than linkon’s. their residents had access to countless showers and sinks with customizable settings and precise temperature controls.

despite everything, you couldn’t help but enjoy every second of these little luxuries. you found yourself wondering if caleb might let you take some of his fancy dermatology products back to linkon with you.

by the time you got out, you remembered that caleb had mentioned during yesterday’s lunch that skyhaven would soon begin its monthly isolation week—a period where all soldiers and officers were confined to their bedchambers. it was a precautionary measure, meant to ensure that the magnetic fields and protocores keeping the island afloat remained stable and resistant to any potential failures. 

the thought of spending the upcoming period together in isolation left you with an unexpected wave of embarrassment gnawing at your mind. 

your fingers curled into the sheets as you sat on the edge of his bed, your mind a whirlwind of guilt and uncertainty. after your prolonged shower, the scene of the punch replayed endlessly in your head. you’d gone over every detail, from the sharp crack of your knuckles against his jaw to the stunned look in his eyes. had you taken it too far?

if you were going to spend the next seven days confined in this dorm with him, wouldn’t it be better to try to make amends? the tension already felt unbearable, and avoiding him would only stretch it further. you needed to face him, didn’t you?

your gaze flicked toward the door, hesitation pulling at you. you’d skipped breakfast to dodge the awkwardness, telling yourself you needed time to sort through your own emotions. but now, the thought of him sitting alone in the kitchen, nursing a bruised jaw and left to wonder about your silence, made your stomach twist. he deserved some sort of explanation—or, at the very least, acknowledgment of what you’d done.

“he’s fine,” you told yourself, standing abruptly and pacing the room. “he’s a soldier. he’s been through worse.”

but the image of his expression—the way his eyes softened, almost tender, when he said, “i did”—refused to leave your mind. 

you felt like you were going crazy. for six days, emotions like confusion, guilt, regret, anger, and love had taken turns coursing through your body, leaving you utterly whiplashed. every time you thought you had a handle on one, another would rear its head, demanding to be felt. it was exhausting.

in the last three days, caleb hadn’t been anything but kind to you. he’d gone out of his way to make you feel comfortable, to give you space when you needed it, and to be there when you didn’t. his words, his actions—everything he’d done had been soaked in care.

“pipsqueak?” caleb’s voice came through the door, soft but clear, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. “can i come in? you didn’t eat breakfast, so i brought some fruit.”

your heart leapt into your throat, and for a moment, you froze, unsure of what to do. 

was he reading your mind?

“o-oh, it’s okay,” you stammered, grimacing at how shaky you sounded. “i’m not hungry.”

there was a pause, followed by the low rumble of his laugh. it wasn’t mocking, but it carried that familiar teasing edge that made your stomach twist. “please,” he said, his tone amused. “you’re always hungry. that hasn’t changed, has it?”

you swallowed hard, your eyes darting to the door as if it might give you an answer. what was he doing? why was he being so normal? like nothing had happened? you both basically confessed your undeniable pull towards each other a few hours ago, and now he was out here laughing about your appetite.

“i’m really fine,” you said, forcing your voice to steady. “you don’t have to—”

“too late,” he interrupted, the doorknob jiggling slightly. “i’m coming in.”

panic surged through you. “wait!” you blurted, stepping toward the door instinctively. “i’m—uh—I’m not decent!”

there was a pause, and then his voice, lower but undeniably amused, came through the door again. “you’ve said that before. pretty sure it was a lie then too.”

your face heated at the memory, and you clenched your fists, both at him and at yourself for reacting this way. why couldn’t he just leave you alone for five minutes to figure out what the hell you were feeling?

“caleb,” you said, your tone sharp but shaky, “just—give me a minute, okay?”

another pause. “fine,” he said, his voice softer now. “but i’m not leaving until you eat something. deal?”

you huffed, running towards the door and fixing your hair. “deal.”

before you could change your mind, the door clicked open. caleb stepped inside, balancing a plate of sliced fruit in one hand and a small ice pack pressed against his cheek in the other. he was shirtless, his bionic arm fully exposed, the metal catching the light as he moved. it was the first time he hadn’t tried to hide it from you, and the sight made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

you barely registered the plate of fruit before your eyes caught on the bruise forming along his jaw. your fist had left a mark—faint, but undeniably there. guilt flooded your chest, your earlier resolve crumbling.

“hi,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing lilt as his gaze shifted to you. his lips curved into a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. “nice shirt, by the way.”

you glanced down, realizing with a jolt that you opted to put one of his shirts after the shower, the fabric oversized and hanging loose on your frame. your cheeks heated instantly.

“i—it was just comfortable,” you stammered, tugging at the hem as if that would somehow make it less obvious. “don’t read into it.”

he chuckled, stepping further into the room and setting the plate down on the nearest surface. “oh, i’m not,” he said lightly, though the smirk never left his face. “but if you want to borrow more, just let me know.”

your embarrassment shifted into a mix of irritation and concern as your eyes darted back to the ice pack on his cheek. “what happened to not leaving until i ate?” you said, trying to deflect as you stepped closer.

“still holding you to that,” he replied, his tone playful but soft.

but you weren’t paying attention to his words anymore. your gaze was fixed on the faint purpling of his jaw, the guilt clawing its way back to the surface. without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his face as you gently turned it to get a better look.

“does it hurt?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the concern threading through your words catching even you off guard.

caleb stilled under your touch, his gaze steady on you as you inspected the bruise. “not really,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. “i’ve had worse.”

you frowned, ignoring his attempt to downplay it. “you’re not supposed to just brush it off,” you muttered, your thumb lightly grazing the edge of the bruise. “i shouldn’t have—”

“hey,” he interrupted, his voice gentle. he reached up with his flesh hand, carefully wrapping it around yours and pulling it away from his face. “don’t do that. don’t feel bad.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “i was expecting you to be mad,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i thought you’d yell at me, or… i don’t know, something.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head. “why would i be mad? i deserved it.”

“you keep saying that,” you said, pulling your hand free and stepping back. “but why? why do you think you deserved it?”

he sighed, his expression softening as he leaned back against the table. “because i’ve been waiting for you to hit me since the fake interrogation. hell, i was starting to get worried when you didn’t.”

“worried?” you repeated, your brows knitting together. “why?”

he hesitated, as if weighing how much to say, before meeting your gaze again. “because the girl i grew up with wouldn’t have let me get away with half the crap i’ve done,” he said simply. “she’d have punched me the second she saw me.”

his words hit you harder than you expected, a strange mix of emotions welling up in your chest. “well,” you said after a moment, your voice softer now, “maybe she’s not the same girl anymore.”

he smiled at that, the kind of smile that carried a weight you couldn’t quite name. “maybe,” he said quietly. “but she’s still in there. i see her every time you look at me like i’ve done something stupid. every time you call me out on my bullshit. and i’m glad she’s still here.”

you didn’t know how to respond to that, the raw honesty in his words leaving you momentarily speechless. instead, you looked down at the plate of fruit he’d brought, your fingers brushing against the edge.

“fine,” you said, your voice still quiet but steady. “i’ll eat.”

his smile widened, a hint of relief flickering in his eyes. “good,” he said. “because i wasn’t kidding about not leaving until you did.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite to it. as you picked up a piece of fruit, you couldn’t help but glance at him again, the bruise on his jaw and the faint smile on his lips making your chest ache in a way you weren’t ready to name.

the room settled into a quiet rhythm as you nibbled on the fruit caleb had brought, the faint rustling of his movements behind you blending into the soft hum of skyhaven's faint mechanical undertones. he had settled onto the bed at some point, the ice pack still pressed lightly against his cheek.

you didn’t look up at first, focused on the sweet tang of the fruit and the thoughts circling your head. when you finally did glance over, you saw him lying back against the cushions, his large frame sprawled out comfortably across the bed. it struck you—how long had it been since he rested properly? since he allowed himself this kind of moment?

there was something oddly humanizing about the sight of him now. his broad chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his muscles visibly relaxed beneath the glow of the dim room lighting. his eyes were closed, and for the first time since you’d arrived at skyhaven, he looked… content.

his bionic arm rested on the bed, unmoving, and yet it seemed a part of him in a way it hadn’t before. the faint light caught the edges of the metal, highlighting the intricate details of its design. you noticed the tension that usually coiled through his shoulders was gone now, replaced by an unfamiliar ease.

you wondered, as the silence stretched between you, how the two of you had gone through so much in just one week. grief, anger, guilt, and even flickers of something softer—it felt like a lifetime had been compressed into the span of days.

just as you were sinking deeper into your thoughts, his voice broke the quiet. “did you call zayne?”

you blinked, the question catching you off guard as you chewed the last piece of fruit. you swallowed quickly before answering. he probably heard you talking to your friends yesterday.

“not actually. i still don’t know what to tell him.”

he shifted slightly, turning his head to look at you. “why not?” his tone was calm, curious rather than accusatory.

“it’s… complicated,” you admitted, setting the plate down on the desk beside you. “zayne’s always been logical, rational. and this? this is anything but that. you were his friend too so…”

he seemed to consider that, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he sighed and leaned back into the cushions. “did he comment on anything from my… from the explosion?” his words were careful, almost hesitant, as if he was testing the waters.

you hesitated, unsure if he was fishing for something deeper or just looking for updates on zayne. the memory of zayne handing you the documents—grandma josephine’s documents—flashed through your mind.

“not much,” you said eventually, your tone thoughtful. “he just gave me the documents grandma left with him. said she wanted me to have them. after that, he helped me deal with… everything else. the grief, mostly.”

caleb nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “he always was good at that,” he murmured, almost to himself.

you tilted your head, studying him. “why ask now?”

his lips quirked into the faintest smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i guess i’ve just been wondering… how much he knew. if he ever blamed me, or if he…” he trailed off, his voice growing quieter, “if he thought i could’ve done more.”

“zayne didn’t blame you,” you said softly, the certainty in your voice surprising even yourself. “he never said anything like that. he just… he cared. about both of us. since always.”

caleb’s shoulders relaxed a little at your words, the tension easing from his frame. he let out a long breath, his eyes closing again. “that sounds like him.”

the comfortable silence returned, but this time, it felt heavier with unspoken thoughts. you stayed where you were, watching the way his breathing steadied, his face softening in a way that felt so achingly familiar.

caleb sat up from the bed, stretching lazily as his muscles rippled under the warm light of the room, leaving the ice pack on the bedside table. the movement drew your eyes almost involuntarily to his chest, his defined pecs and the subtle line of his collarbone. you realized too late that you were staring.

“like what you see, pipsqueak?” he teased, smirking as he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

your face heated instantly, and you scrambled to find a response. “i wasn’t—i mean, you’re not that impressive,” you shot back, your words stumbling over each other in your flustered state.

he laughed, low and amused, clearly enjoying your reaction. “sure you weren’t.”

before you could retort, he straightened up and glanced toward the door. “what do you want for lunch?” he asked casually, his slightly red jaw stealing your attention for a few seconds.

“lunch?” you blinked at him, momentarily stunned. “i forgot we’re supposed to spend the next few days confined,” you admitted, your tone dipping with mild disappointment. “i was really starting to like the restaurant food we’ve been eating.”

caleb chuckled, his expression softening. “well, you’ll have to settle for my cooking again. i think you’ll survive.”

your mood lifted almost immediately. “oh!” you said, excitement creeping into your voice. “can you make that dish you used to make me when i came home from college? the one with the rice and that weird sauce you wouldn’t tell me the recipe for?”

he tilted his head, pretending to think. “hmm… you mean my secret signature dish?”

“it’s not that secret if you made it for me all the time,” you countered, grinning now.

“fine,” he said with a mock sigh of defeat, standing up from the bed. “i’ll make it.”

as he moved toward the door, you hesitated, shifting awkwardly in your chair. “uh… caleb?” you started, your voice quieter now.

he turned back to you, raising an eyebrow. “yeah?”

you fiddled with the hem of his shirt, avoiding his eyes. “i was just thinking… if you wanted, you could, um, go back to sleeping in your bed. you know. with me. it’s big enough, and the sofa doesn’t look that comfortable…”

his sofa was actually very comfortable and big. but you felt bad either way.

he stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before a slow grin spread across his face. “are you worried about me, pipsqueak?”

“no!” you said quickly, your face flushing. “it’s just… i noticed the marks on your back from sleeping there. you look uncomfortable.”

his grin widened. “so, you’ve been staring at my back?”

“caleb!” you protested, standing up and trying to shove him toward the door. “don’t twist this into something weird.”

he laughed, letting you push him as he pretended to resist. “all right, all right,” he said, still grinning. “if it makes you feel better, i’ll sleep on the bed again. but…” he tilted his head slightly, the grin widening into something teasing. “can you at least warn me before you decide to punch me next time? because, honestly, this thing hurts like a bitch.”

you froze mid-push, your face heating up in a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “don’t tempt me,” you shot back, trying to sound stern but failing to keep the amused lilt out of your voice.

he chuckled, stepping just outside the door but turning back to look at you, his expression softening. “deal?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

you sighed, shaking your head as a reluctant smile crept onto your face. “fine. but only because i want to avoid another bruise on your face. it’s bad enough looking at this one.”

he chuckled, stepping out of the room but turning back for a moment. “get comfy, pipsqueak. i’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

lunch came and went, the hours passing in a strange haze of quiet conversations and unspoken tension. turns out caleb’s cooking skills have improved since your last meal together, and you’ve caught yourself praising his abilities more than once. 

the gaifan with baozi left you content and vibrant for the rest of the day, the taste of familiarity spicing your tongue along with the steamed dumplings.

at one point, caleb insisted on showing you how skyhaven’s isolation worked—something about magnetic fields and protocores stabilizing the entire floating city. you tried to follow along with your hunter’s brief knowing about fluctuations, but the way he lit up as he explained it was far more captivating than the details themselves.

“this is why we have isolation weeks,” he said, gesturing toward the ceiling as if the intricate systems were visible through the walls. “the magnetic fields can’t handle too much strain for extended periods, so every month, we scale back activity to let the systems recalibrate. it’s boring, but it keeps us alive.”

“boring?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you’re talking about living on a floating island, caleb. that’s not boring.” you smiled. “i remember you dreaming about coming here for the first time when you graduated high school.”

he smirked, leaning against the edge of the counter. “guess i’ve been here too long. you kind of get used to it.” his tone was casual, but there was a flicker of something softer in his expression, a quiet pride that reminded you of the boy who used to explain the constellations to you back home, his enthusiasm unshakable.

later, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, he led you to the living room, where floor-to-ceiling glass windows framed the sky in breathtaking clarity. you stood there for a while, the silence between you broken only by the occasional hum of skyhaven’s systems. the view was mesmerizing—clouds streaked with gold and pink, the faint glow of the city’s lights flickering to life below.

“do you ever get tired of this?” you asked, voice quiet.

“not the view,” he said after a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “it’s the one thing that reminds me we’re all still connected to something bigger. even up here.”

you glanced at him, surprised by the weight in his words. for a brief moment, he wasn’t the confident, larger-than-life caleb you’d known these past few days. instead, he felt like something closer, more familiar—a reflection of the boy you once knew, the one who used to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders even when it wasn’t his to bear. 

his gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, but his fingers brushed the edge of the glass as if reaching for something out of sight. that first night, neither of you could sleep. the air between you was heavy, the silence stretching long enough to make you wonder if he could hear the way your heart raced. 

“can’t sleep?” you finally asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.  

“not really,” he admitted, his tone unusually soft. “too much on my mind.”  

you turned to face him, the dim light casting shadows across his face. “like what?”  

he hesitated, his jaw tightening. “everything,” he said finally. “you, mostly.”  

“me?” the word came out sharper than you intended, your chest tightening.  

he nodded, his gaze meeting yours. “i can’t stop thinking about everything i’ve put you through. how much i’ve hurt you. it’s like this weight i can’t get rid of, no matter how hard i try.”  

“yeah, you hurt me,” you said, your voice steady, though your chest tightened with the admission. “there’s no denying that, caleb. but carrying it around it’s not going to undo anything.”

his eyes softened, the vulnerability in them cutting through the walls you’d tried so hard to keep up. “you’ve always been too good to me,” he murmured. “even when i didn’t deserve it.”  

you wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of his bionic arm. “you didn’t deserve what they did to you either,” you said quietly.  

for a moment, he didn’t respond. when he did, his voice was barely audible. “i would do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.”  

the weight of his words hung between you, heavier than the silence. you didn’t know what to say, how to ease the ache in his voice. so you didn’t say anything at all. instead, you shifted closer, letting your shoulder brush against his. it was a small gesture, but it felt like everything. 

you fell asleep before he did, your breathing soft and steady in the quiet. he stayed awake, watching the way the faint light danced across your face, tracing the lines he’d memorized a thousand times before.

he turned his gaze to your sleeping form, the rise and fall of your chest a quiet reassurance that you were here, that you were safe. it was the only thing that kept him grounded, kept the shadows of his own mind from consuming him whole. and for the first time in days, the knot in his chest loosened just enough to let him breathe.

you didn’t know—couldn’t know—how much he’d thought about this, dreamed about this, clung to the fragile hope that one day he could be near you again. that he could protect you, not just from the world but from himself, from the consequences of his failures and the monsters he’d let into your life. it wasn’t just love. it was something darker, deeper. devotion that bordered on obsession, a desperate need to be the shield between you and everything else.

he would protect you. from ever, from the shadows of the past, from anything that dared to hurt you. again and again and again, until there was nothing left of him.

author’s note: it was so hard to write this one guys, i didn't know if y'all would like caleb's switch up from such a hateful man (ugh) into this more real one but yeah, i had a good time writing this. I KNOW THE ENDING IS BAD, but it's not the real ending yet! see you next chapter (very soon!), xx. THE SMUT IS COMING I PROMISE. send me a request • my masterpost

taglist: @bbieainee

[daydreamer-in-training]

✨Life Update✨

So i've been absend for the past weeks and I abandoned my wonderful Advent Calendar as well 😔 booh me. I'm ver dissapointed in myself. And i'm so sorry to everyone.

I planned to write so much this month, but after I cut down on my advent calendar I didn't like anything I wrote for it after. I didn't know how to structure its Masterlist from then on an put myself under even more preassure to create something good.

Plus, there was so much chaos in my personal life that didn't make it easier to be creative either - a healthscare in the Family and something scary from a few month ago came up again on a smaller scale

Ugh I can feel myself tearing Up as I write this.

I wanna power through the anxiety about posting tho 😤 I'm planning on finishing half of the Advent Calendar posts at least, I just have to figure out how to structure it, now that Christmas is almost here...

Enought wining 🙏🏻

I wish you all wonderful holidays and time with your loved onse, lots of health and presents as well! ✨❤️

[aurumalatus]

Nothing really to ask you. Just wanna check in a little and see how you are :D I adore your writing and eat it up everytime but I do stop and worry about how much you write for us. Take your time and don’t burn yourself out for a stranger’s behalf. <3

Remember that self-care is important! If the baker takes all of his time baking bread for others, he’ll end up starving himself. Take care of yourself bae! Love you <3333

(Virtual hugs from Booh 👻 :3)

thank you so much friend!

i have been trying to take a bit of a writing break, besides slowly working through some chapters for my longfics in my free time haha. honestly writing oneshots takes up more time than anything else for me somehow so i've been taking a break from that!

but your words really do mean a lot! writing is a hobby to me at the end of the day, and i'm happy to provide content for you guys, but i do wonder if people will get like... "mad" or something if i don't write for a while HAHAHA. don't get me wrong, i probably wouldn't care either way bc i'm doing this for free and of my own volition, but it's good to hear that people are willing to be nice and patient :)

i hope you're taking care of yourself as well, thank you!!!!

[whathappenstotheheart]

I'm deep in a CM rewatch and just hit S08E01 which means - yay Blake, booh no Emily.

Also I was just reminded of how cringey Blake's first info-dump while they deliver a profile is. Like, I know procedurals don't always take a lot of care to get their science babble accurate, but they're trying so hard to make her this linguistics wiz and they fail so badly. Like, 0/10 points at making her sound... anything, really. We start with her claiming:

Unsub can't be mute because he knows IPA, which is kinda like saying if you can read sheet music you must be a good singer. Except even less logically connected.

Then a quick follow-up with:

Since he knows IPA he can't be deaf, which is maybe the soundest thing here but still mostly nonsense because deafness is a spectrum, you can lose your hearing later in life after having already learned IPA, and (depending a bit on what he actually writes about IPA) he could possibly just have some theoretical knowledge of it w/o practical experience of sounds.

Since he probably isn't deaf he can't be mute, which is just... she should know better.

and finally, and most nonsensically:

People who are smart enough to know IPA are "usually proficient in sign language", which is rather like saying people who are good at knitting are usually good at roller-skating. What the what? It just doesn't make sense as a statement or a logical conclusion. Like, sign language is a language. It's like saying "people who know IPA usually speak good French". Why? Why would they? Where's the connection?

Like, I get that they're trying to get the audience to lean toward the unsub being deaf and a signer, but that would've been so easily done by just saying "well, his writing shows he has the linguistic capacity to express himself well even though he doesn't speak, so it might be that he's deaf and the prison just didn't know that because he's a John Doe, and if he's deaf there's a decent chance he signs". Without all this nonsense. I feel like even laypeople must've raised eyebrows at that scene.

Anyway Blake deserved better fact-checking.

[otomiyaa]

Sweet Revenge

Sourin & Reigisa (Free!)

Collab with @ticklygiggles

A/N: This Halloween collab was so much fun to write back then. The Free! nostalgia is real!

Summary: Reupload from 31 Oct. 2018 - It’s one pairing against the other in this fic: On Halloween’s night, Rei and Nagisa plan to prank Rin and Sousuke by scaring them to death…. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 2.7K

The night was dark and cold. Children were screaming and laughing, candies were scattered over the floor, pumpkins were lighting the way, and two guys were on their way… on a particular mission. Because it wasn’t just a night. It was Halloween’s night.

“Aaah so nice of Haru-chan to tell us about Sou-chan and Rin-chan’s horror night! Poor thing has no idea what bad news this means for them,” Nagisa said excitedly, snickering like an evil villain as he pulled his mask over his face.

“Well, I guess he did what he had to do to put that idea of pranking poor Makoto-senpai on Halloween’s night out of your evil head,” Rei replied.

“Heh, it’s not like I was really going to! But this is a great opportunity, I’ve always wanted to scare Rin-chan! And Sou-chan’s gonna be a big bonus.”

Nagisa was wearing a scary mask and carrying a backpack that was filled with gear to make this prank the best yet for in the Halloween prank hall of fame, if such a thing even existed.

“Hmm… I think it was here.”  They walked past a few apartments until they reached their destination where Haru had directed them to.

The curtains were closed, and Nagisa and Rei exchanged glances and shrugged. “It’s now or never!”

Nagisa took a gigantic fake chainsaw from his bag, as well as a bottle of fake blood which Rei used to splash over himself. It dripped from his face onto his shirt and he probably looked terrifying enough.

“Ready?” Nagisa asked, barely holding all the excitement inside that tiny body of his. When Rei nodded, Nagisa even jumped excitedly as he reached to knock on the door, well more like banging on it.

“Was that necessary, Nagisa-kun?” Rei whispered, raising an eyebrow and fixing his glasses.

“Just to be dramatic,” he giggled under his breath and banged on the door again.

“What is taking them so lo- AAH!” Rei flinched in surprise when the door suddenly opened and almost lost the opportunity to scream along with Nagisa to scare the living hell out of Rin or Sousuke or both, but, as he sees the unimpressed face and that sarcastic raised eyebrow on both Rin’s and Sousuke’s face, he’s not sure about this plan anymore.

“Are you guys serious right now?” Rei surrendered immediately, trying to hold on to the little bit of dignity still on him, but Nagisa kept on fighting and Rei watched how he lifted that weird fake chainsaw of his higher above Rin’s head, ready to attack him.

“Sousuke is even more scary when he’s angry,” Rin mocked and he grabbed Nagisa’s chainsaw with a single hand, snatching it from Nagisa’s hands and throwing it back into his masked face, making him let out a muffled squeak.

“Oi…” Sousuke mumbled, sending a glare to Rin. “So you guys decided to just interrupt us to trick or treat us or what?”

Nagisa took off his mask and cocked his head. “Eh… No. Just scare you?” he said, picking up his fake chainsaw to pull the string of it, and it made a couple more disturbing noises, but none seemed to affect the two males in front of them. Rin and Sousuke looked at each other again, smirked and looked back.

Rin flashed his trademark grin and mocked: “Ohh. Ah booh-booh. We are so scared,” he said, obviously sarcastic. Sousuke nodded, looking all stoic but with this tiny smirk on his face.

“Oh…” Nagisa said, looking down at his chainsaw, a bit flustered because of such a failure of a prank. He then smiled.

“Welllll, I guess we’ll be going again then! Enjoy your horror ni-”

He already turned around, but Rin’s big hand landed on his shoulder before he could make the full 180 degrees, stopping him.

“Ha, I think not,” Rin said, and Rei watched and yelled as Rin yanked his boyfriend into the dark hole that was the unfazed couple’s apartment.

Sousuke didn’t even need to do the same to Rei who immediately yelled “NAGISA-KUN!” as he jumped right in after him, but Sousuke did slam the door shut behind him, and from that moment it was as if they were kidnapped into the underworld.

The apartment was dark and decorated with anything Halloween’ish, from spiderwebs to skeletons and scary pumpkins. The coffee table was packed with snacks (also Halloween themed…), beers and a stack of empty beer cans next to it.

Horrifying screams of pain and slashing sounds were heard as a horror movie continued to play on the TV, and it was then that Rei realized: Wow. These guys are so into this. Now he understood why they weren’t affected at all by their cheap prank-attempt.

Nagisa whined and Rei found him lying rather ungracefully on the floor near the coffee table. He quickly helped him up to his feet. 

“So mean! This is kidnapping!”

“Mean, you say?” Rin arched one of his eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You guys were the ones that came to prank us…” Rei flinched when Rin looked directly at him, his maroon eyes seeming to glow in the dark like a real demon, Rei also looked at Sousuke, who was now standing at Rin’s side, and his eyes weren’t less mischievous than Rin’s.

“…and since it was a total failure…” Rei gulped, seeing that smirk grow on Rin’s face.

“I think we should put a suited punishment on you now, don’t you think, Sousuke?”

Sousuke hummed in agreement and before Rei or Nagisa could react, Rin launched forward, going for Nagisa. Rei couldn’t help but feel relieved, but Nagisa shrieked and fell back to the floor with Rin trying to wrestle him down.

“N-Nagisa-kun!”

What were they planning to do? A suited punishment? Halloween… Horror style? Like… Torture?

He desperately started to look around, trying to find any torture instruments in the room or even rope or tape, but the room was too dark and the light from the TV was just enough for him to see his surroundings.

“Rei-chan! Help!” Rei was fast to dive into action, but a sudden squeeze on his waist made him jump and choke on a giggle.

He stopped his movements and looked at his side, finding a hand latching onto him, it was Sousuke and he was wearing the most predatory smirk he had ever seen. Rei gulped. 

“S-Sousuke-senpai?”

He stepped away a little, but felt yet another sharp squeeze and he jerked, the corners of his mouth trembled as he tried to keep a smile in check, but then Sousuke thought it would be a good idea to just keep squeezing him there over and over until it was almost impossible to hold it anymore.

Rei tried to escape but he just collapsed against the couch as he squirmed and bit his lower lip tighter than ever. Nagisa was able to look the scene over his wrestle-match with Rin. 

“Rin-chan! Don’t do this!” Rei was barely aware that Rin hadn’t started with Nagisa yet and he wondered if only he was going to be tortured- well, it was a better torture than others.

“Rei-chan! Don’t lau-” 

“Ahahaha!” It was too late, Sousuke had finally reached for Rei’s ribs and there was no way in hell to keep himself from laughing at that…

“I’m sohohohorry, Nagisa-kuhuhun!” …and as if on cue, Rin started to tickle Nagisa too, who lasted just one second before he broke into loud giggles.

Rei, on the other hand, already shrieked with laughter when Sousuke finally attacked with both hands. He tried to grab his attacker’s wrists to push them away, but Sousuke didn’t budge. It amazed Rei how strong Sousuke was, but the tickling he was inflicting on him felt unbearably gentle, making him want to jump out of his skin.

“N-Nohoho whyyhyyy!” Nagisa cried, flopping uncharmingly as he tried to flip himself on all fours, but Rin would easily wrestle him back down. A claw with wiggling fingers grabbed at his poor stomach, and Nagisa curled around Rin’s hand and giggled uncontrollably.

“Heh, because it’s like torture, isn’t it? And totally painless.”

How friendly. A painless torture as some punishment. Well, for your record, Nagisa’s eyes were almost dropping out of his head as his eyes widened when Rin’s relentless tickling moved towards his armpits. His stomach was hurting already from laughing like this as well. So much for ‘painless’.

“Hyaahahaa noooo!” he screeched.

Sousuke was still tickling Rei with ease, but when Rei managed to roll himself onto his front, he easily picked him up and threw him beside Nagisa to resume the torture over there. Both Nagisa and Rei were laughing their own and each other’s heads off, getting tickled to death by the stronger guys who absolutely looked like two evil devils towering over them.

They seemed to find all the good spots to make them cry. Nagisa thought it was obvious for Rin since they had had a few tickle fights through the years, but as he looked to his side and saw, through his blurry vision due to his tears, Rei laughing nearly in hysterics, head thrown back and body arching up as he desperately tried to escape, he thought that maybe Sousuke and Rin were actual demons that show their true powers during Hallow-

“Eek! Rin-chahahan! Not thehehere! Not there!” Nagisa howled with laughter as he felt Rin cupping his hand on one of his hips, Rin’s thumb finding the bone and digging into it.

“We’re sohohorry!” he cried.

“Are you now?” Rin teased and the sudden sound of Sousuke’s voice made him look up.

“I found a good spot,” Sousuke almost sing-sang as he clawed at Rei’s ribs with nimble fingers.

Rin shuddered. He had been under a tickle attack from Sousuke, so he felt almost bad for leaving him to torture Rei when he seemed to have a little less of stamina than Nagisa.

“We-We ahahahare!” Rei laughed out. “Sousu- sehehenpai!”

He gave up on saying Sousuke’s name completely, the laughter barely letting him talk.

“Please stohohop!”

“Learned your lesson now?” Rin asked, still glancing over at Rei while his own fingers wouldn’t stop poking and prodding at Nagisa’s twitchy body.

“Yehehehes! A-Ahhand i-it was Nahahagisa-kun’s ideaaaa!”

“Rei-chahahan traaaitaahaha!” Rin smirked.

Poor, poor Rei. Seemingly feeling sorry for Rei, being under such drastic Sousuke-assault, was becoming a serious emotion here. He smiled and looked at Nagisa who was whining and mewling beneath him. He knew Nagisa’s character from way back. Of course it was his idea.

“Hey Sousuke, come check this out,” he finally said.

Sousuke looked up and Rin demonstrated Nagisa’s super sensitive thighs by doing the exact same thing that made him shriek earlier.

“EYAHA!” Nagisa jerked and kicked, his flailing arms nearly hitting Rin in the face.

“Need help over there?” Sousuke asked. His hands on Rei’s poor wheezing body stilled, and Rin shrugged.

“Maybe?”

That’s when victim #1 was finally released from his torture as Sousuke got up and crouched down where Rin was.

“Hold these for me.” Rin handed Nagisa’s flailing arms over which Sousuke pinned gladly over his head and watched how Rin continued to dig into his thighs, seeking that master spot that would make the poor blond turn to jello.

“Rei-chahahahan!” Nagisa begged, shrieking when Rin brushed his fingers on that very sweet spot on the inside of his thighs.

“Help mehehehe!” he finally howled as Rin smirked and focused on said spot, squeezing it away with nimble fingers as Nagisa jolted with every touch and desperately tried to pull at his trapped hands.

Rei was barely getting his breath back when Nagisa was drowning in his own laughter. Rei put himself back together and shakily started to crawl to save his tiny and helpless boyfriend but stopped when Rin sent him a glare.

“Help Nagisa and you’ll be next, Rei,” he warned, and Rei gulped, not exactly wanting to be in Nagisa’s position.

But Nagisa’s face was starting to get a bit too red and his laughter was going all breathless and hoarse, and yet he was wearing the happiest smile ever. Rei had to sigh, of course Nagisa was enjoying himself. Regardless, he still thought that his face was red enough and that those were some unhealthily squeaky breaths, so he needed a break.

Almost without thinking about the consequences, he reached for this spot Nagisa once told him was a good spot on Rin (actually, he randomly said it one time when he was tickling Rei to pieces, claiming that they both shared that spot), right above the left hipbone. Rin barked out a laugh feeling the squeeze on his side and he immediately launched for Rei.

“You’re asking for this, aren’t you?”

“No, Rin-senpai!” he squeaked as Rin took a seat on Rei’s stomach.

“I think we both learned our lesson!” he tried. To no avail. Both demons’ attention were now officially on him, and ohhh lord…

“Hmm, I see.” Rin smirked.

“But I think it’s only fair if we get you as bad as Nagisa, don’t you think, Sousuke?” Sousuke smirked back and he fucking wiggled his fingers at Rei. Oh how Rei regretted this decision.

But then he glanced at Nagisa who was panting and wheezing breathlessly, with this somewhat cute relieved and thankful smile on his face, looking like the sweetest angel he absolutely wasn’t (heck, he was the guy who brought them into this shit in the first place).

But seeing him like that gave him courage, so Rei bravely brought his hand up towards his head and saluted his tired boyfriend. “Nagisa-kun! Don’t worry about me! I will be okay!” Aaand okay as in- laughing so much until his stomach hurt, but all for a good cause.

Nagisa took as much time recovering as it took Rin and Sousuke to tickle Rei to death, and by the time everyone stood on their feet again (Rei wobbling weakly and leaning against Nagisa), the horror movie that had been playing for Rin and Sousuke’s entertainment had already reached its credit roll.

“Well guys, now that that’s over with, why don’t you two join us for our next movie? It’s all about torture. The unpleasant one,” Rin said, a dirty smirk on his face. Rei wanted to go in discussion about how that could mean Rin would call their torture just now ‘pleasant’, but Nagisa already nodded excitedly. “Oh yes! Let’s watch it!”

Well somehow Nagisa was an angel after all, forgiving these two devils for tickling them to death like that, but then again… Rei smiled. They did deserve it, a little. Well at least, Nagisa did. Rei… not so much. “We’re in,” he said with a smile.

And the remainder of the night was spent on the couch, both couples enjoying a drink and a snack and some unnecessarily bloody movie that totally fit Halloween’s theme for real. Watching this, Rei almost felt bad calling their predicament earlier ‘torture’. He’d be able to live with ‘sweet revenge’.

Epilogue (new)

Sousuke could barely hear Rin's voice due to the loud crunching noises as he enjoyed some tasty crisps.

"What did you say?" he asked with his mouth full. Rin rolled his eyes and repeated:

"Look at them. Can't believe they are like this." Sousuke looked to the side. Rei and Nagisa had both fallen asleep, and the movie hadn't even reached its best part yet.

"Probably tired from all that," Sousuke said.

Rin snickered. "All what?"

Sousuke glared at him. "You know what."

Rin shrugged. "No. I actually don't." He nudged Sousuke with his foot.

"Say it."

Sousuke sighed. "You know I don't like to say that word. Now watch the movie," he commanded, but Rin reached out and tickled his side.

"HNGh!" Sousuke jolted and threw his snack bowl all over Nagisa by accident. Nagisa kept sleeping.

"You tickled those two to death but can't even say the word. Come on, say it," Rin said, but Sousuke quickly grabbed him and pushed him backwards.

"I know something better," he said, and although he could Rei whine now that he Rin was falling on top of him, Sousuke still began to tickle Rin mercilessly.

"HEheheey! You're so- ahahaah!" On the screen, slasher movie sounds could be heard. On the couch, Rin's loud shrieky laughter could be heard, and under from under Rin, Nagisa and Rei's wails could be heard as well. Sousuke smirked. It truly was one remarkable night of Halloween!

[spookbooh]

[. . . CONNECTING . . .]

~Meet the writer!~ ♡

~ Hi there! My name is Booh. I’m a writer and adamant fanfiction enjoyer, so that will be my main content on here.

My requests are always open if you would like to request a character! The fandoms I currently write for include:

- Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, MHA

The only character I refuse to write for is Dottore from Genshin Impact. Other than that, that’s all you need to know before going ahead and submitting a request to me! You can even just drop some kind words in my inbox just to make my day better. Every request and message is always appreciated.

I LOVE writing AUs for characters, so if you submit a request for an AU, I’ll probably write you an entire essay about it :,3

Thank you! <333

[tinderbox210]

Trying to distract myself on my lunch break from not being able to watch the musical episode yet by giving some thoughts to the Spocklaan alien abduction AU story i'm trying to write. If anyone's interested to know a bit more about the plot:

It's an modern AU (i know booh, no one wants modern ST AUs) and it's a bit of a twist on the First Contact with the Vulcans. In the story the Vulcans are close to extinction, so they come Earth to study the humans to find out if humans and Vulcans are compatible for reproduction.

So Spock comes to Earth and abducts La’an because her genetic anomaly (augmentation) makes her the best candidate, and things get steamy between them (there's actually more to their story that I'll to include but haven’t completely figured out yet).

The really fun part will be La’an giving Spock a few lessons in human love, like teaching him how to kiss like humans etc.

Please don't look for rhyme or reason in my stories, there’s usually very little in them.

Now you might ask, can't Spock just get a genetic sample and leave again? And the answer would be, do you want smut in the story or not?

[emmanuellececchi]

Nano update - booh yah...

And boom... I made it to 80% of my text. I haven't much left to go until I finish my challenge.

I am not doing this to prove I am better than everyone else. I began this challenge because I saw one of my mutuals begin it and I wanted to do something in support. Then, I realized I could also do it for myself.

I wanted to prove to myself I could do it. I want to prove to myself that I can persevere, even when it's not working, even when the challenge seems insurmountable.

I want to become a writer. Some can say, but you alredy are. But I want more. It's foolish but sometimes, we let go of dreams because we think we are not good enough.

This is what it is all about. I am giving myself the okay to become a writer. I am proving to myself that I am good enough, that I deserve to become a writer, that I can pursue this dream, and catch it.

Sometimes our worst ennemy is within. Our own doubts, our fear. With this challenge, I am punching them in the face.

On the technical side: rather than continue fighting with my rewriting, I decided to write the chapters that followed, those that are slowly guiding me to the end of the story. The message that I received from Nanowrimo last night was clear: I don't need a perfect text, it's just the start... of a wonderful adventure!

So, let's go writers. we can do this. wWhatever your goals and dreams, even if its just a few words here and there. We can do this. We go this.

I love you all, my fellow writers!

[boohnana]

✨🌻Warm Afternoons🌻✨

Welcome to my lil safe space on the internet. I’m Booh, I like to read, write, paint and bake, which I hope I’ll be able to share on here with a few interested people if I’m lucky enough to catch their attention. If I have done so successfully, welcome to my blog, I look forward to you reading my entries, and looking at my (sometimes basic) photography, or try out my weird but surprisingly tasty baking recipes!

Until then,

💛 B

[bitbrumal]

                                HEADCANON                         / ‘the god of love is lonely’  ↩            ↤ khioniya :: ‘aggressively chill’

khioniya, smirking just the tiniest bit as she comfortably lowers herself to the floor- does she feel the slightest bit Beneath Rosalyn ( @lalohefalter​ ) even in sexy ways no khioniya's not very good at feeling that but she's very content to let her queen make her queenly moves. if she'd like to step on a godqueen then go off girlboss-        helpfully provides opportunity for one of her fave pastimes.      does that ruin it? hm.

help i should write a hc abt this it's so funnyds fjskafjdskj she cannot feel lesser than anyone or -thing. it's illogical & alien to her. everything's equal; this here tree gets to punch me in the face if i give it due cause & vice versa c'mon now we're all fine. what is all this weird classist bullshit. bitch i became a god & decided we’re all equal anyway so how are u lot still being this wild about ur own inferiority complex--                    cuz i felt this way before becoming a god           so i’m js what are u being weird & weak for. tsk.

does she deem people / orgs / instances beneath her due to their personal choices? fuck yeah, that’s there - it’s not that she doesn’t judge like anyone else, she just... shuns the idea of better inherently just because the value of a living being or thing is not understood by the one doing the judging.           ---but people who are beneath her aren’t beneath her, they just don’t classify as ‘good enough at being a person to be considered one themselves’. if you can’t leave ppl the fuck alone unless you need to fuck their shit up, you don’t get air. booh, bitch. die.

it’s part of why she doesn’t... do all the classist things as a ruler? like, you can’t step out of line, she’ll keep you well in there- but the line isn’t calling her majesty or bowing or giving her more space than you would anyone else, or letting her do shit you don’t want, or not giving your honest opinions on the proceedings.

                 I JUST WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW that i write a god who embodies all the.. ‘higher being cradling lesser beings to its chest & protecting it with higher powers just bc ur smol i’m big + divine territoriality’... but resolutely refuses to be aware of her position as a thing that is honestly terribly imposing to almost anyone, because.         :’c she doesn’t like when ppl keep their distance so much. pls she doesn’t bite unless ur mean. ( she didn’t become a protector to be lonelier, so why is this how it’s turned out-? ) in an actually shit or at least not entertaining way ( she’s desperate she’ll take it. come be mean then, as long as it’s honest. refreshing. ) c’mon. come play? booh. she’s lonely-

ppl:  gasp! a god. gotta be plastic abt this khioniya:  well then i just won’t talk. at all. guess whether i’m mad i’m not gonna give you a clue until you apply normal people rules to me-

WHICH THEY DON’T. SO. OOP.

so it’s both a) genuinely too self-possessed, confident, & kind-hearted to see things as a hierarchy of importance. of power? value to a specific cause? sure! but not as generally inherently more deserving of consideration than others. b) yeah she’s not making that weird behaviour worse. ( except that she is. pls just tell them you want them to act normal- but the whole point is she doesn’t want ppl to do what they think she wants them to :c just be real ffs.               & since real means distance to almost all of them...          she has accepted this. )

[incohorace]

i WILL post the scenes + an explanation of the fic im planning btw

ok why is bat out of hell so easy to write for hello???? i haven't written anything in literal months and yet suddenly im shitting fanfiction like i have word diarrhea. wtf

[swimmingmoonking]

Hi it’s me the one who burned the water (I am not writing my whole overly complicated name)

So should we continue to talk about Macaroni and him sucking because the writers forgot to give him a redemption arc

Yeah!

Honestly, I hate the fact that all the characters just forget what he has done.

1 he has hurt so many people!

He trapped MK under his staff after stealing his powers and tried to murder him.

He kidnapped the Gang and use them to attack Mk in the same damn episode!, where booh ho he was telling how much Wukong hurt him. So like any 'good' person would do:

you take the will of innocent good people

use them to attack a innocent person, who mind you have already attack and traumatized before, knowing full he had no way sgape and form hurt you

Make it seem like is the kid fault and a lession to be learn. Like he stoped becausa Mk was already too traumatized to be traumatized some more?! And we are supposed to like him and think 'oh he isn't too much of a bad guy!'

He attack the dragon palece and probably destroy it! Killing so many! And yet is never talked again! Not even Mei, who character is based about loving her family, ask what happened or is suspicious of Macaque (in season 4, she didn't bat a eye when Mk had to be alone with Macaque. Wukong get reminded of his innocent mistakes and yet Macaque deliberte actions are immedetely forginven by one good action)

he even attack a well known pacifist for what reasons? Nothing!

He beated his friends till they scream in pain and yet is ok. He wasn't even controlled by Lbd at this pointbin time!

He hurt Tang, someone we know that Macaque doesn't see as a threat and why? Once again no real reason were given.

He tried to manipulate the latter and when it didn't work, he hurt him (hmm, why do I feel he tried the same with Wukong. Because of it, he lost his eyes? Hmm🤔)

He chocked Mei! Not only that, he forced the ritual to happen for his own selfish reasons (no, he wasn't posseses. So he did the action with his liberal albritio)

He was the reason on why Wukong's plan failed (thankfully, because that was a suicide plan). Yet is all Wukong's fault and Macaque didn't do nothing wrong! (The cast and half of the fandom)

2 he still hasn't apologize for it

No helping the Gang doesn't count, the world was about to be destroyed! Helping them was in his best interest!

Then with Azure, macuck show up after Wukong got trapped in the scrool, waste Mk's time with a shity game and lesson (you can't tell me that, a game with every route a dead one is a good metaphor with Mk's situation. Sorry sir, but telling someone that makes them feel depressed and fail). Plus he was here to only save Wukong, you can't convice me other ways. So it was still in Macaque's best interest!

Do you see what I mean? No interaction feel genuine becausa is always the end of the world, so helping the Gang is everyone best interest! So Macaque helping them feel like a cheap way to redemption.

Do you want to know who apologize for his mistakes even if some aren't his fault, gives Mk's good lesson at the right time, learn and become better everytime, always there for the Gang?

This Princess peach! He always tries his best. But no! He is the one that nedss to be better!

Bullshit

(Ps. Sorry for answering so late. Using Tumblr is hard )

[0nemorestranger]

inside me there are two wolves. one of them wants to get back to writing the other wants to make significant progress in a secondhand book about contemporary satanism

i've done nothing but listen to booh vegas recordings for 2 days straight

[hatchzed]

The real potential of small Ai agents.

I recently conducted an experiment using a small AI model and fine-tuned it on a high-quality dataset of instructions and dialogue from a large model.

The goal was to explore the potential of AI beyond traditional coding work and share my findings with you.

For this experiment, I used the Opt-335M model and removed all questions related to programming and code blocks from the dataset to make it more general , and while the model's performance didn't meet my initial expectations, it was still a significant step forward in showcasing what can be accomplished if we expand our perspectives.

Although I trained the model on only about 40MB of dialogue, instructions, and questions from a 500MB dataset, it was exciting to see it generate content and reason.

More training data would have improved the results, but time and resource constraints meant this was the best I could do. Nevertheless, the model performed remarkably well given the limited data.

My primary goal was to develop an AI model that could run on any device, without the need for massive GPUs or M1 MacBooks. I aimed to explore AI capabilities, generate content, and gain inspiration without API restrictions and safety layers while having fun instructing the model.

https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/secure.notion-static.com/a6e69dd1-3ee0-4ae5-b1ff-c9e85577512e/Untitled.png

“emma” during training evaluation , notice “speaker=emma>” is the Ai turn. it remembered the instructions and the job assigned to it.

Do you really need OpenAi? | Do you really need Alpaca 7B? | Do you really need vicuna 13B?

Keep. things. simple.

In the age of large language models with billions of parameters, we often overlook the fact that AI can also be helpful in everyday tasks like writing emails or generating ideas. It begs the question: do we really need such massive models for simple tasks?

While the open-source community has made great strides in making AI accessible, I believe there is still more work to be done. Instead of creating more specialized models that are distilled from ChatGPT to write code or perform specific tasks, we should focus on making AI capabilities available to everyone.

https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/secure.notion-static.com/f0b0e086-a9b3-4899-bef0-aadb11da0717/Untitled.png

Overall, my experiment showed that with the right perspective and training data, we can expand the potential of AI and make it more accessible to everyone. However, we must also acknowledge the challenges and limitations that come with this field and work towards addressing them.

The idea behind this experiment is to develop an AI model with a size range of 355M-1B, This would make it possible to use the model on personal computers without the need for massive GPUs or extensive datasets.

By removing safety layers and guidelines, this model would allow for greater exploration of AI's true potential in everyday tasks, such as chatting, generating ideas, editing text, and writing emails.

Moreover, with the rise of AI personas, we can create more engaging and interactive experiences for users. However, we are currently wasting valuable dataset tokens on coding prompts and answers, which could be better utilized in expanding the scope of AI's capabilities.

Entrepreneurs! — GPU! — BOOH!

I believe that the real potential of AI is being hidden from individuals and small businesses, as they often assume that such capabilities require expensive resources and powerful models like ChatGPT and GPT-4. However, as demonstrated by this experiment, even with limited resources and a small dataset, a smart and helpful AI agent can be developed and used to organize folders, assist with scheduling, and even psychoanalysis.

While larger models like ChatGPT and GPT-4 have their benefits .. it's essential to remember that they are not the only means of achieving AI capabilities , by exploring the possibilities of smaller models, we can unlock the limitless potential of AI in our daily lives.

In conclusion,

This experiment was a fun and exciting exploration of the possibilities of AI beyond coding. By developing accessible and helpful AI models, we can empower individuals and businesses with new tools to improve their productivity, creativity.

AI doesn't have to be complex or require massive datasets or GPUs. By creating accessible and helpful AI models, we can all explore the possibilities of creating our own personal AI sidekick. With the right training data and perspective, anyone can develop an AI model that can assist with everyday tasks.

We should all be looking towards creating the next big thing, which could be the combination of You and AI. By embracing the potential of AI and exploring its possibilities beyond coding, we can create new and exciting solutions to everyday problems, and improve our overall quality of life.

[yahboobeh]

Miss Independent

Spring really was the perfect season, Tenten mused. The climate was ideal for training, and even the sweet scent of hydrangeas managed to poke through the odors of sweat, weapons polish, and upturned dirt. There were no hydrangeas in the fall. 

She would never admit to Lee and Guy just how much she loved a good spring day for fear she would never hear the end of it. 

Above her, the sky was clear and blue. The breeze rustled the leaves, and birds sang, darting across the horizon. 

Below her, the grass was lush and green, pockmarked with weapons spent from her arsenal. 

And on top of her prone form was Neji, claiming victory over their spar, a confident smirk splayed across his face. 

He said nothing before settling into his reward - their reward - for a successful training session. 

Neji kissed Tenten on her lips, her face, her jaw. She gasped and rolled her head to the side, exposing more of her neck. 

She both loved and hated this part of their relationship. 

Tenten hadn’t truly realized the extent of her feelings for Neji until she’d almost lost him on the battlefield. 

In everything he did, Neji was practical and diligent. Tenten was unsurprised that he approached love with the same careful dedication. Each part of her that Neji touched or kissed was with a purpose as if he’d deliberately planned out each caress beforehand. Even something as simple as holding hands seemed to be weighted with consideration. 

Tenten loved it.

Neji somehow managed to transform his practical nature into intense bouts of passion that left Tenten’s knees weak. He paid attention to what she liked, whether it was her favorite foods, training exercises, or places to kiss, Neji seemed to know it all. He studied her reactions, how she liked to be touched and where; quelling the parts of her that burned for his touch. 

She was wholly and utterly consumed by him, and that was the problem.

Tenten felt any remaining tendrils of control slowly slip away. He was slowly stripping her bare of the walls she had built. Tenten hated the woman she became whenever Neji turned his attention to her.

She tried to resist the urge to be consumed, staring at a kunai sunk partway into the ground. It jutted out, the cool grey steel harsh against the lush green grass as Neji’s hand started its journey under her skirt to cup her bottom. 

The sound that Tenten made was something between a moan of pleasure and a frustrated grunt. 

“Wait!” she gasped, surprising herself. 

Neji stopped, pulling away from her neck to look down at her, brows wrinkled with concern. 

“Is something wrong?”

Moments ago, Neji’s voice had been low and dripping with desire. Now, it was lighter, speckled with concern. Tenten looked up at his perfect face. His jawline was somehow both sharp and soft. The crinkle in his brow would smooth away with the slightest press of her fingers. And his eyes told her all of his secrets. His emotions passed freely across them, but somehow only Tenten could pluck them out and give them a name. 

Love. Worry. Desire. 

She saw them all. 

His hair tickled her cheek, and between the press of Neji’s body against her own, Tenten could confirm the speck of desire she’d seen. 

Everything about him was perfect. This moment was perfect. 

The problem wasn’t Neji; it never would be. 

“Tenten?”

Her name on his lips made her entire body buzz. Her heart pounded unevenly, and she felt light-headed. 

“I have a problem.”

Tenten tried to state this as delicately as possible while guiding Neji’s hand off of her bottom. 

She saw a flash of anxiety before Neji sat back on his knees, giving her space. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

Tenten’s body felt heavy, like moving was more effort than it was worth. She stayed on her back, her legs open to him. 

She managed to shake her head.

“No, you’re amazing. Perfect even. Jerk.”

A cocky smile flashed briefly across his face. 

“What’s bothering you?”

Tenten sighed, trying to find the right words to describe her struggle best. How could she continue on her own while feeling like she was obsessed?

“I’ve always thought one of the greatest weaknesses of my fellow kunoichi was their obsession with boys.”

Neji cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to elaborate. 

“I mean, how could Sakura, Ino, and Hinata achieve their potential when they were always so distracted? It’s annoying. Be more independent!”

“I’m not sure I understand where this is going, Tenten.”

“Towards an existential crisis!” she said with a frustrated huff. “I mean, how can I call myself independent or a feminist when all I can think about is your stupid, perfect face?”

Neji laughed at her, earning a sharp glare. 

“I’m serious, Neji! I feel like all I think about is you! ‘What’s Neji doing right now? Does he really like me? When can we have sex again?’ It’s driving me insane!”

Neji curled back over Tenten, kissing her softly before looking into her eyes. He pushed a stray bang back into place while he picked his next words. 

“Do you think that our relationship takes away some of your own agency?”

“I don’t know… Sometimes I do. I don’t feel like an adult in a relationship. I feel like a hormone-fueled teenager with an unhealthy obsession.”

Neji considered her statement for a moment before speaking. 

“I feel similar.”

Tenten’s brows shot up.

“You do?”

“Do I come across as the type of person who would have sex in an open field in the middle of the day?”

Tenten laughed.

“No, not at all.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“But you still go home and do your own thing. You’re still your own person.”

She felt her eyes burn and resisted the urge to cry. She felt Neji’s thumb swipe across her cheek, a soothing gesture of affection he reserved just for her.

“So are you, Tenten.”

Tenten scoffed. 

“I think that it’s normal for people to experience so much infatuation at first.”

“I don’t know, Neji. Maybe, but it feels like so much more. When I thought you were… I-I couldn’t do anything.” One tear, two tears, and then the stream. She wept freely under him. “I was so pathetic, a shell of a person. My existence stopped when I thought yours did.”

Neji kissed her forehead and diligently wiped away her tears. He let her cry uninterrupted until she had calmed down enough to listen.

“Tenten, that’s not an obsessive crush, that’s grief. They’re different.”

“I felt like I couldn’t live without you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But grieving doesn’t make you weak or less independent.”

Tenten looked away, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. 

“Listen to me, Tenten. Feeling like your whole world has been turned upsidedown... like you’ll never be happy again, that’s normal. It’s part of the process.” 

Neji wiped away another tear.

“You know everything,” she teased.

“I wish this was something I didn’t know. You feel helpless at first. It’s normal. I promise.” 

Neji kissed her briefly on the lips.

“As for our current situation, tell me; if you were asked to go on a mission without me, would you?”

Tenten nodded. 

“Of course.”

“Do you still go home and work on your scrolls? Do you research new weapons and techniques?” 

Another nod.

“And even though you claim to think about me all day, are you still doing your normal routine?”

“Yes.”

“And do you still know your goals? Your dreams?”

“I think so.”

“I don’t think being infatuated with someone makes you any less independent. And you’re definitely the strongest, fiercest, most independent woman I know.”

Tenten’s heart fluttered. She touched his cheek and smiled.

“Thanks, Neji.” She smiled up at him. “But you better not just be saying that to get me out of my dress.” 

He frowned. 

“It was genuine, besides,” he pressed a series of kisses to her neck, and she giggled, “I don’t need to go out of my way with compliments for you to take your clothes off.”

“Neji!” 

Her laughs melted into gasps. She struggled to hold onto any sense of reality. 

“You arrogant-”

He cut her off with a deep and needy kiss. 

“Stop talking,” he whispered between kisses.

Tenten pushed him off of her. Neji rolled over and onto his back, and she quickly climbed on top of him, swelling with triumph and pride over her small victory. 

She leaned forward and kissed him, pressing her hips back to extract a well earned gasp from her partner. 

“Fine, I’ll stop talking,” she said between kisses, “but not because you want me to.”

Neji grinned up at her, hands reaching for her waist, pulling her in closer.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 FFN | AO3