#might post some other character designs if I feel like it!

[a-vampire-culturelover]

Back on my Hawkstar Au Bullshit

YIPPIE I FINALLY HAVE SOME TIME TO DIVE MORE INTO THE AU :3!

While all of the previous shit from This Post happens, Brambleclaw goes into exile, ending up in Shadowclan with his sister Tawnypelt. There he explains to her what happened and why he was exiled, and Tawnypelt feels a bit guilty thinking she could have kept this from happening if she knew sooner what Hawkfrost would try doing. They're both shocked of the news of Hawkfrost becoming leader of Riverclan, realizing his plans had worked. They both decide to try and find a way to expose him, fearing Riverclan will fall more under his manipulation, alongside genuine worry for Mothwing's sake. And with conflict between Windclan and Riverclan getting more and more frequent each and every moon, things might go from bad to worse if nothing is done..

Back in Thunderclan, after Hollykit and Lionkit mysteriously disappear, Leafpool goes into a depression, having lost two of her own kits seemingly out of nowhere. Squirrelflight comforts her throughout this duration, knowing how badly it affected her sister, and was just as wracked with grief with Jaykit being the only one of the litter left intact. They lie about Jaykit being a loner kit just like Hawkfrost, and they both take care of him, Leafpool being a sad but goofy "Aunt" and sometimes spoiling him with things like feathers and flower petals to decorate his pelt.

Squirrelflight meanwhile, is growing more and more suspicious of Ashfur. Nothing had seemed wrong back when Brambleclaw was exiled, but after Holly and Lion went missing, she had scented Thunderclan in the area. She had initially assumed it was her and Leafpool, but upon further investigation she realized the scent was vaguely similar to Ashfur. Knowing it wouldn't be wise to just call him out knowing there was a good chance something could go wrong, she keeps her mouth shut so she can focus on both finding evidence and further investigating, alongside raising Jaykit.

In Riverclan, Mothwing had not succeeded in drawing the ire of Sleekpaw to herbs, but instead Tadpolepaw. Tadpolepaw Trains under Mothwing's guidance, getting alongwell with the much older apprentice Willowpaw. She's confused often by how Mothwing acts happy and pleasant to be out of camp during trips for herb gathering and meeting with the other medicine cats, but paranoid and bitter in camp, especially towards Hawkstar. Tadpolepaw begins to learn from Mothwing about when she was a kit, when their mother Sasha left her and Hawkstar in Riverclan, how her little brother Tadpole, who she had been named after, died, but most importantly how she did not believe in Starclan. After this, she becomes very conflicted on what to do, her own mentor not believing in Starclan, what she had thought her entire kithood was the most important aspect of clan life apart from the code. Through Mothwing, she begins to learn of her father's much darker secrets, but what about her brother Sleekpaw...?

Sleekpaw is trained under Blackclaw, who overall is a good mentor, but behind the scenes Hawkstar does all the work, training him in the Dark Forest alongside Tigerstar. Sleekpaw grows used to the feeling of having his claws out, always having at least a little bit of blood spilled on his claws, and always having scars that healed far before any herbs could be used. Tigerstar and Hawkstar begin to wonder what was so strange about him, before realizing just how powerful his near invincibility in battle. Hawkstar smirked at the thought of using Sleekpaw against whatever threats came to Riverclan, and as tensions rise between Riverclan and Windclan, that time for bloodshed and claws unsheathed may come far sooner than those who don't wish for it..

Smaller less important things about the Hawkstar au: - Birchpaw gets renamed from Birchfall to Birchsmoke by Firestar during his warrior ceremony, after his mentor Ashfur's "Loyalty" from stopping Brambleclaw from murdering him. He's a little more nervous and overwhelmed in the au from Ashfur constantly promising to make him deputy when he becomes leader, making sure Birchsmoke is a cat he can trust and most importantly manipulate when the time comes to lead.

-Tawnypelt names all but Tigerkit the same as normal, renaming him to something like Adderkit, depends on whether or not I stick with that

-Jaykit actually stays a warrior apprentice, becoming Jayflight. He gets the suffix from Squirrelflight since he cares deeply for both of them, and happens to wonder what happened to his other siblings that make his mother and aunt go silent..

-Since Jaypaw never becomes a med apprentice, either Icecloud or Foxleap become one since something does happen to Leafpool at some point in the au...

[dairyfreenugget]

Also, this blog turned from me talking about HK AUs to me rambling nonsensical shit about my ocs (I am having a blast)

[deviousdiesel]

.

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 6, day 26, Draw Everything June Day 18!

This was a fun pose :D They've all been fun but this one made the good brain juices go brrrrr

[bucket-of-spiders]

My stupid emo bastard son, Lucy

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Also, in now being through FNAF Sister Location, I understand what people meant about the lore of this series being fucked up. Like, I had a general idea about what the lore was. But still seeing it for myself is different, of course. And there were also some things I didn't know.

[pomefioredove]

hellooo!! i saw requests were open so i might just share my thought vomit

idia with a reader that is very curious about his hair, for example they want to braid his hair so they ask him if its possible. orr if it can change different colors other than pink or red, if it burns when you touch it etc etc. hes such a unique character both in design and lore and hes such a silly goober and sooo

please ignore this if it doesnt suit your schedule or if the requests are closed and take caree <3

ahhh ofc! I hope you like this

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ idia's hair

type of post: headcanons. kind of characters: idia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is kinda yuu, long again

Idia can't be mad at you for asking, or for being curious, but he can be mortified. he's already out of his element here, and you make his stammering and his awkwardness so much worse than the others. like, he can deal with the back-handed compliments and manipulation from the extroverted normies here (they suck, but he can deal), but you're like. nice. FOR NO REASON! he'd much rather have psychological warfare with the greedy, manipulative normies at this school than have to cope with you being all cute and... sunshine-y

he'd been doing a good job at avoiding you, and then Ortho had to ruin everything and "introduce" you guys. apparently you'd been feeling lonely? yeah, right. and you wanted to meet him? you must've just hit your head on something, in which case you should be in the infirmary, and NOT HIS ROOM!!

but he can't say no to you. damn it all. and now you're getting your cuteness all over his things. what's he supposed to do?? pretend you're not here???

and you keep LOOKING at him. it's scary. you're definitely judging him.

"could I... braid your hair?"

oh, just smite him now. this HAS to be some kind of weird prank. did the others put you up to this?

but again, he can't say no. "I guess,"

"will it burn if I touch it?"

wonderful. Idia turns away from you, avoiding your eyes under the guise of demonstrating. "no. it's normal hair. it just looks weird,"

"it doesn't look weird. I think it's pretty,"

this is how he's going to die. death by kindness. ugh. he doesn't have it within himself to respond to that. you don't ask him to, though, getting right to work on braiding his hair.

"is it always blue?"

what is this, twenty questions? "most of the time,"

"what other colors?"

"uh... I dunno," he mutters. he does know, he's just dying. don't mind him. "like... fire colors, I guess."

"oh... cool,"

you finish the braid, and he just sits there in silence, trying to get the memory of the way your hands felt out of his head...

"pretty," you say again, and he dies a little inside. do you have to be so... perfect? like sunshine and warmth and flowers and everything nice?

and more importanty, why would someone like you ever want to be around someone like him?

Idia hopes you never ask yourself that. because he's already thinking about keeping you all to himself.

[rayroseu]

I really appreciate the beauty of Malleus New Year's card. But most importantly, other than its gorgeousness, I also appreciate how it pays so much homage to his status and character, from the flowers, the clothes, and the setting. 🥹

We know that wisterias were prevalent in his Dorm Groovy SSR, this time its another flower which is the red plum blossom here😭❤️

In Chinese philosophy, the Plum tree’s blossom is a symbol of winter ending and a herald of spring. The tree’s pale pink blossoms are cherished because they bloom vibrantly and so bravely amidst the winter chill. They symbolise perseverance and hope, as well as, beauty thriving in adverse circumstances.

The way this flower's meaning is so matched with Malleus' character is so precious. We know he's "the herald of spring" because his birth brought forth a hope that the Draconias(or the faes in general) won't die out just yet (the ending of winter) and the fact that this flower blooms even in winter probably symbolizes the fact that when he was an egg, he was still perservering to live. This also applies to his life as he grows up. With the way even if his life is riddled with loneliness and exclusion, he makes an effort to go out and adjust himself with others, he doesn't give up even if his reality consistently places him in situation where his goals can never be achieved (that is, him being accepted socially and him being ignorant of human culture but still makes an effort to understand it), he just continues to be hopeful that someone/ some place will invite him, therefore his ability to thrive in adverse circumstances.

The way he slowly rises in this card makes me feel like it symbolizes how slow paced Malleus is "in going out/getting used to outside of his comfort zone", actually lol. He described his admission to NRC as him being nervous because its an unknown place but still hopeful for the experiences that he might get(acccording to the vignette of his GloMas SSR), just like him here rising from the snow and the way he lifts the veil which makes me think he wants to see the world outside of his country's point of view with his own eyes.

Japanese tradition holds that the Plum (or ‘ume’) is celebrated as a protective charm against evil, so the ume is traditionally planted in the northeast of the garden, the direction from which evil is believed to come.

I also read this symbolism which makes me tear up lmaooo 😭Because we know in Book 7, Briarland was invaded from northeast where the Silver Owls originated from 💀 The fact that the plum blossom is a protection flower and he's surrounded with it in this card makes me think that it symbolizes how protected he was during Briarland's era 😭and another thing to dissect from his slow rise from the snow with the fact the plum blossom signifies protection is probably the fact that he took so long to hatch despite many people caring for him.

Side note that in Malleus Bloom Birthday Groovy, it implied that he was born in daytime during a snowfall, and he was happy experiencing the winter, just like in this New Years card where he's smiling against the heavy snowfall 🥹

In Japan, plum blossoms symbolize good fortune, an auspicious flower, along with pine and bamboo, and the arrival of early spring. They are often used as the design for New Year’s greeting cards and other celebratory occasions. (And maybe this is just the likely reason why this flower is here in Malleus' card and I'm overthinking it above lol

Next thing I want to mention is his clothes, that attire reminds me of the formal outfit of a Japanese Emperor (From what I searched, its called sokutai, but what Malleus wears is much more simpler I guess, its a outfit derived from it which is called ikan.) This post is a great overview about these two outfits.

Ikan is the work clothes of nobles and government officials in the Imperial Court after the Heian period. Sokutai is a formal costume for those from the Emperor to the court nobles in and after Heian period (Heian costume). Ikan is called 'tonoi (nighttime) costume', whereas sokutai is called 'hino (daytime) costume'. (which probably references the fact that he's a night fae)

The point is, what Malleus wears in this card is a very traditional garment that only high ranking Japanese officials can wear. But what he wears isn't the clothes of an emperor yet, but just for a high ranking official, which is accurate to his status that he's still a crown prince not yet the king, because only Maleficia truly rules Briar Valley right now.

I love the decision that they made him wear such a prestigious outfit because the story of the New Years event is the characters working on customer service lol Its like his clothes is a reminder that he is still highly distinguished even if temporarily he's a worker.

Lastly the VEIL !!!!!! That's the thing that catched my eyes the most in this card lol I KNOW they're not referencing a wedding here because the veil don't look the same, but its so good not to mention that the one of the headress of a Japanese bride is called tsunokakushi and its description can be related with Malleus a lot lol.

The term is a compound of 角 (tsuno, "horn") + 隠し (kakushi, "hiding"). This derivation is listed in some sources as a reference to hiding a bride's "horns" of anger, jealousy, or other negative qualities, in order to present a more virtuous image for the wedding. However, this interpretation might be a folk etymology resulting from a shift in the reading and meaning.

The headdress and the veil aren't the same thing but I kinda feel like this is the idea they're going for considering the veil is 1) hiding his horns, 2) he's a character associated with being jealous, and most importantly, 3) only the person he is looking at can see his face (which is the point of most wedding veils/headdress, to hide the bride's face so that only her partner can see it).

But long veils, like the one Malleus is holding is also just a garment for a noble to hide their nobility. Which is this is probably the likely reason, considering he's using that veil to cover up his horns and his clothes, the most obvious features of his status.

Also, it could be just a fun reference to the fact that Maleficent in live action wore a long veil to hide her horns so that she wouldn't scare the humans lol

[acid-ixx]

I feel like they are the type of mf to stalk you in game bruh.

Like imagine Tim playing dress to impress just to vote you a 5 star no matter if your fits are trash lol. (Hell all of them might do it)

Or maybe your playing some sort of RPG game, and you said to your in game friends about how you wanted a skin and BOOM you immediately got it first try when you gacha lol. (Tim)

— masterlist !

as much as i love writing yandere angst, i always border on the softer spectrum of it, so when it comes to interpreting your life post-kidnapping: i'll say that the family is a bit more lenient (as if it's enough to make you feel a semblance of freedom) to you when it comes to pastimes like gaming as long as you're always being monitored, especially in online games...

that translates to you being stalked at every opportunity every time you use your bugged phone...

they're always breathing down your neck, so you think you have privacy even when playing alone? when heaven forbid the surrounding cameras all over your room, all set-up by tim and his invasive ass, just so he could have constant surveillance over every movement or hobby of yours?

there's eyes on you all the time, but you'd never expect that it's to the point that they'll join all the games you play if it means spending some "bonding" time with you whenever you push them away from physically being in the same room as you.

so if it means playing lousy obbies in roblox, or even "girly" games like dress to impress, for hours, then they'll join you without moment's hesitation. you'll be shocked at just how well tim and damian style their clothes, but nobody's beating steph and cass at their game. and despite you feeling down in the dumps at the times you feel inferior towards them and their expertise, or just how well each of them communicating with each other, and you, feeling out of place everytime.

it's an undeniable fact that it's you always winning and ranking first place.

they'll always lower themselves, or won't even try so you'd always be in the spotlight even if you ask them to play fairly.

oh, by the way, never ask any one of them to duo with you. they automatically see it as you crowning one of them as your favorite— you don't want to see another fight ensue just because you voted one of their fits better than the other.

you could be shit at the obbies, constantly missing your jumps and close to snapping your device in half— then suddenly you have the game passes to skip certain levels. suddenly, you have an entire cheer team waiting with baited breaths every time you finish a jump, only to cheer and celebrate once you finish a particularly hard level.

oh, you're in a shitty dress to impress server with unfair voting? don't worry, barbara's faster behind the scenes, finding pro servers for you to join in. the entire family's already at your beck and call (even if you've never asked them in the first place) every time you mouth a complaint, each statement of yours taken more seriously than the missions they have every night as vigilantes.

and once bruce catches the news that you want robux just to buy the VIP and custom makeup game pass for dress to impress, or literally any games? god, he's like your mr. salt to you, his sweet veruca, willing to buy the entire game, hell, even the gaming companies you play on.

just, you know, if you don't want them showing their affection directly, then they'll do so by servicing you through the games you play.

any game currency is immediately bought by bruce, all transferred to your account, no matter how expensive it is because he sees it's what makes you happy, watching you burn off all the money on your avatar's design, or certain gacha characters you're fond of, with your eyes staring at the screen in awe with no worries about becoming broke.

it just makes him want to... hold you like you're a little kid spoiled by their father who loves them so much, who should've loved them from the start.

your siblings have an unspoken competition on who could grind on your account the most while you're afk, just so they could see your meek smile plastered on your adorable face seeing that you have the proper resources on your inventory.

you know, it makes them feel useful to you. it makes dick feel like the dependable older brother who's the first one you approach whenever you need him to play for you whilst you go to the bathroom. tim even learns every game mechanic in parkour games so he could assist you during the moments you struggle.

as cute as you are on his computer screen in one of the cameras surveying your room, pouting as you look at the screen at another failed level, tim wants to be as every bit your favorite, the guy you see as the geeky nerd in the family so he'll be the only one you approach to help you out (you don't even have to ask him, his eyes are always on you).

jason's good at point and shoot games, he gives you oddly realistic tips too so you could aim right at players and eventually secure your spot. it makes him huff with joy whenever you win competitive games 'cause you always jump and cheer, forgetting the boundaries you've set with personal space, just to thank him with a hug and your rare grins that feeds the greedy parts of him only wanting to see your smile all for himself.

so, really, everything's fine with them, as long as it doesn't disrupt your quality time with your family in real time and you don't hurt yourself over losing that they're happy you're enjoying. as long as you're not pushing them away and not-so eagerly accepting their online presence, then maybe you could find an actual routine to enjoy every time you open your phone to play a game.

maybe you'll learn to smile or laugh with them too when you're all in the same room playing together.

maybe, just maybe.

[joshuamj]

I quickly ran out of tags right in the middle of me about to ramble about the designs so screw it im adding it here

yea so i ended on pink link, but i'll repeat. LA link has pink hair cuz he's the Link from ALttP whose sprite has bright pink hair and i am very sad the pink hair isn't really canon cuz that means we'll likely never get a proper pink link :(. I also gave him red eyes to match the bunny sprite from ALttP. Idk if this design is supposed to be during or just after LA, so the braid was either made by Marin, or he learned himself after to do it like she did. The hibiscus is a post game thing tho, I like to imagine he starts wearing one post LA. then the feather earring is meant to be the Roc's Feather! i love finding ways to incorporate items and such into their designs. Finally, I would usually probably draw him with the red outfit from ALttP, but I decided to make a design just for LA, cuz i, yknow. played LA and not ALttP. Hopefully i'll post a full thing with the design sometime

Wild Link gave me SO much trouble. Mostly his bangs, couldn't figure out how to draw them for the life of me. but honestly his whole hair kinda gave me trouble. And then I feel like the outfit looks kinda awkward from the posing or how its cut off. Its meant to be the archaic set (but dark blue) over his champions tunic, but then with an extra green sash in the middle like the one in the ember set. They have some little designs on em, but at the bottom, so they're not visible. Then he's supposed to have the hylian hood cuz i love that, but i feel it looks a tad strange here. + i can admit the design may be getting a tad overcomplicated with the 2 sashes on top of the tunic AND a cap thing. But i can't resist. Besides the clothing, i also added a silent princess to his hair since it matches his color palette, and possibly reminds him of Zelda (and I like to think Zelda has a sundelion in her hair). Then there's some facial scarring from when he died, and finally, i drew his eyes a bit different than I did anyone else. I usually include a secondary color or lighter color as a half circle on the bottom of the eye, but i left that out to make the eyes lack a bit of light/look a bit flat. I like to think that before dying, Link's eyes were some other color. Maybe a dark blue or even brown or something, but when resurrected, his eyes turned Sheikah tech blue. To emphasize that, I also made his pupils a bright blue instead of white. And the lack of that extra shine of color was meant to make them look slightly "dead"

Not a whole lot to say on MM Link, if it was his fullbody design i would (and even have an old design sheet im hoping to update and post), but I'm thinking of redesigning it a bit. I've seen some art where his clothes are drawn to be more "leaf-like" or that they're made out of nature, cuz yknow, grew up as a kokiri. So i might try that. Otherwise all i have to say is that i made his eyes green cuz 1. I do what i want, and 2. to set him apart from the kokiri who all seem to have blue eyes. Also i gave him eyebags cuz this poor kid keeps living the same 3 days over and over again, so who knows when he's getting sleep, if he's getting any at all

TP Link! Not much to say, only thing I visibly changed/added to his design thats visible here is the slight change in color of his hair at the ends. Its meant to be fading into colors like his wolf form. I wanted to reference his wolf form but didn't wanna actually add wolf features or a wolf pelt or anything. Wanted something more subtle ig

then WW Link! i do have a posted design sheet for him, but i did actually slightly tweak the colors of his outfit. His shirt was more a middle blue (similar to Wild's champions tunic here), but decided I wanted to go teal after ive seen some pretty fanart where this Link is dressed in teal. So then I also had to tweak the green to better match with it. Otherwise, he's just missing the pirate stone thing that i would normally draw around his neck. I removed it cuz it would get cut off awkwardly. (i also debated giving LA Link Marin's necklace, but also decided not to for this reason)

and i don't have anything to say for ms echo, i just recently posted a design sheet for her. ig all i have to say is that she gave me a surprising amount of trouble to draw here for some reason. I've drawn her so much lately, so i was surprised

Overall Wild was the most difficult to draw, followed actually by Twilight, but thats cuz the original pose was just him staring straight at the camera. It looked real awkward and his shoulders looked weird and i could not for the life of me figure out how to add his hat. So i ended up completely restarting him, and from then on it was much easier. Then majoras mask link was hard cuz i messed up the proportions (made his body too small, head too tall, etc.). and like i said Echo weirdly gave me trouble. So thank u sm to Wind and LA link, they didn't give me trouble <3

Favorite to draw was probably LA link

WAIT edit, i forgot smthn:

just realized i forgot smthn whoops. if u noticed that LA link's and Echoes zelda's faces look similar then congrats u picked up on something purposeful!

i like the headcanon that ALttP Link is related to his Zelda (if ur unfamiliar, Link's uncle says smthn at the begininng of ALttP, along the lines of "Link, Zelda is your...." before trailing off. Its unlikely he meant sister, but that is what a lot of minds jump to. But its unlikely cuz i think theres either art or text somewhere out there that implies romance between the 2 so. yea not likely. but its still a liked headcanon by a fair few.)

I know its not canon, but i like the idea. it opens up some interesting ideas and dynamics! Like i doubt we'll ever have Link and Zelda be siblings since its such a popular ship, yknow? And headcanoning them as such would usually be seen as weird (like imagine saying u headcanon BotW/TotK Zelink as siblings. Its such a popular ship, people would def think ur weird and like just trying to justify disliking the ship or smthn unfortunately), but this is the one pair of Zelda and Link where its at least somewhat understandable. I see it a lot in linked universe fanfiction.

but yea I think exploring a sibling relationship between Link and Zelda would be interesting, since its different from other dynamics we've got, like love interests, childhood friends, knight and princess, etc. And this dynamic is esp interesting since it would mean Link was sent away and hidden for some reason. I would think that the royal family puts so much importance on the first born daughter, as she's always the Zelda, the important and magical one. So i imagine most of the time the royal family would want to have one girl and nothing else in order to avoid any possible drama, fights for the throne, or just to avoid not having the magic zelda needed to save the day if trouble arises. So if they got a boy first? or if they got a set of boy/girl twins? I think itd be seen as like a bad omen or smthn. at the very least, they wouldn't have a use for the boy. so thats kinda my headcanon for why Link was sent away and didn't know he was royalty. This is why i said it opens up interesting ideas! I wish we would explore the royal family more, cuz in several games they were iffy

but yeah ANYWAY. the reason i said all this is cuz since I headcanon LA/ALttP Link as related to his Zelda (i like the twin idea best), so that means he's also related to EoW Zelda! She's his like great great something grand niece. And i kinda like the idea of Zelda taking more after her (great great something grand) uncle, rather than her mother (or grandmothers n such). Kinda works well since she's taking the role of the hero, so its a weird stroke of fate that she would look like the hero from the family's past. So i gave em the same face. Plus the colors kinda worked out well on their own. I made a lot of EoW Zelda's colors slightly pinkish to fit with her main purple color, so her blonde hair and brown eyes are slightly more pinkish, which actually draws her slightly closer to LA Link's colors (while still looking quite different. There is quite a bit of time in-between the two afterall)

The Links (+ a Zelda!) from all the LoZ games I've played

[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

[meo-eiru]

begging u to introduce some of those fine gentlemen fr

especially if they’re doms bc. im a whore

Ok so for the ones who have lore

This one is Ro. He's basically this all powerful dragon who travels from kingdom to kingdom and spends a few weeks at a castle there to his liking. He's technically not allowed to do that but the nobles can't say anything to him since he could just wipe their country off the map if he feels like it. He finds the mc on the street as a homeless orphan and thinks she has potential as a mage so he decides to spend a few more years in that country and raise her to his liking.

On a matter of scariness I'd say he's actually more scary than Micah. Not only is he more powerful, he's also easier to anger, and you don't know what he might do when he's angry. Also unlike Micah who was aware of his affection for you right from the get go, Ro thinks of you more as a rare gem he owns and by the time he realizes his true feelings it's too late.

This is one of the stories I'd like to turn into a full webcomic one day.

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Next we have these 3, well there's a 4th one but I couldn't find a drawing of him. Basically a reverse harem story about 4 ancient mages and a girl who seems to weirdly attract them. I'd say the blue haired one is definitely the poster boy but the drawing is quite old and I actually changed his design a bit, I think it was too busy.

I'm gonna be honest, this is a fanservice story. You know how there are always shows with female characters wearing impossibly revealing stuff to literal fights? I thought, hey how about I do the same but with men.

We have 4 mages, the mage of light, the mage of dark, the mage of mind and the mage of emotions.

Again a story I want to turn into a webcomic one day

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This guy is the literal personification of Love. He was made out of love, he lives through love and IS Love.

He is the beautiful type of love, he is the innocent type of love, he is the dark type of love. The love that will suffocate you, the love that will make you wish you never experienced it, the love that'll bring you to tears from it's kindness.

He knows you yearn for love, a love you can be sure could never die off, a love that will follow you even if you no longer want it.

Even if you can't love him anymore he will continue suffocating you until you become completely his.

This is a story I want to turn into a visual novel in the future.

The other characters have lore too but I don't want this post to get too long, I think it should be enough to talk about these for now

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[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

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