#caleb is mostly a normal dude

[fatedroses]

Aka Caleb laments getting singled out by the Inquisitor, except his internal monologue is just a noir film narration.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

MY LOVE, MY ALIBI | CALEB | XIA YIZHOU (LNDS)

♡ tags ; psuedocest / adoptive incest, afab + fem!reader, minor age-gap (3 years), mentions / non graphic depictions of child abuse (from readers days in the orphanage), childhood crushing, mutual pining, developing relationship, size difference, some religious imagery, loss of virginity, petnames (baby, princess, pipsquak), use of meimei once and gege a few times but very sparing, oral (f!recieving), nipple play, marking, light masochism from reader, mouth-spitting, fingering, bare-backing, 18+

♡ wc ; 23.3k (kill me)

♡ a/n ; hey. this is an incest fic for adoptive siblings. if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. block me if you need to. please spare me lecture.

also - i have reader be carried by caleb a couple of times but dude has a bionic arm so he's strong as shit to me. the size difference tag is mostly about his dick. aside from the carrying there is no phyiscal indicators for reader

important to the fic but i play in simplified cn. please go listen to the simplified cn voice actor before you read this. for my sanity. most of my characterization is based on various cn translations from the kind cn fanbase. special thank you to mao @/yinyuedijun and this yt channel.

♡ synopsis ; for as long as you can remember, the sight of caleb's back is whats made you feel safest. it's no surprise that every man that comes after him never quite measures up.

extended authors note. | caleb playlist | ao3 | tipjar

PART ONE: ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

At seven, you knock out one of your teeth roughhousing with one of the orphanage boys. 

The good news? You’re winning. You’re at the age where size matters more than gender but the boy you’re fighting is both bigger and older than you. 

Even so, you manage to pull off shoving him back.

You don’t know his name, only his face— buzzed head and red gums, the pristine picture of anger. You roll around with him in the small stretch of yard behind the orphanage - white tanktop stained with grass, all knobby knees and short limbs as you fight and fight and fight with every ounce of your strength. 

You are seven with something to prove and a lot already lost. Your pride refuses to let you lose further. You recieve a hit of adrenaline when you launch the top of your head into the older boys chin and hear his teeth clack from how hard it lands. He collapses in a pile, spits curses he learned from the grown-ups that come in and out as he lays there.

He nearly jumps you when you’re both down. Your head is throbbing where his chin connected and you can tell if he decides to fight you again, your chances of winning have slimmed significantly.

You see it in his eyes. In his face. He’s so angry. Always is. You knew it was a bad idea to provoke him to begin with. 

He nearly, nearly jumps you and almost knocks you out completely. 

So you decide it might be better to prepare for it. You fold up. Put your arms up high and brace for impact when a shadow - long, endless, casts over your head. Eyes half open, a familiar pair of beat-up sneakers stand in front of you in the grass. You hear a familiar voice. It’s colder than you’re used to.

“Bullying a little kid is lame,” Caleb says, sharp. It makes you shrink further even though it’s not directed at you. “Quit fighting or I’ll get one of the grown-ups.” 

You can’t see what's in front of you. You only hear a shock of gasps around you—another confrontation that quickly settles into silence before Caleb turns around. 

His face is soft as he bends down to be eye level. Kind, boyish, gentle - he opens up his arms. He’s not happy about something. You can tell because his smile is a little dimmer than normal. You desperately hope it isn’t because of you. 

Even knowing Caleb is going to scold you a bit, you find yourself welling up in tears from relief even over fear. You wail as you wrap your arms around his neck and Caleb hoists you up and carries you on his hip like you’re still a baby.

He’s silent as he carries you into the house. 

“You shouldn’t get into fights,” He says, soothing. You sniffle as he walks you inside. His shirt smells like summer, hands fisted in it. Holding on for dear life.  Call for me next time.” 

Caleb sits you on the mattress, in the room all the older kids share. Your feet don’t touch the ground as he kneels in front of you and rifles around under his bed. He has bandages and alcohol, cotton swabs and gauze. 

His eyes are kind as he assesses your wounds. Pours alcohol onto a cotton pad and frowns each time you sniffle and sob from the pain of getting them cleaned. “A crybaby like you shouldn’t fight anyone, seriously.” 

“Shut up,” You say first. You hang your head low, instant regret. Your hands close again, blunt nails digging into your palms. Your lower lip trembles. Caleb quickly puts a hand on the top of your head when he notices your distress. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Just depend on me, alright?” He grins with the same front tooth missing. Like a mirror image of you, you think. “I’ll always help you.” 

__

At ten, you give up celebrating your birthday. 

You’re the age Caleb was when you met and now you’ve both left the orphanage and lived away from it for a few years. You’ve spent nearly three years with a woman you call Grandma and the world feels a lot kinder with her in your life. She takes good care of you. Gives you a warm bed to sleep in, and good food to eat. Doesn’t get angry when you break cups or get up in the middle of the night to go pee.

You live in a house with only three people and you even get to have your own room—one you don’t have to share, not even with Caleb. It’s nice to sleep where there’s no one else, even if most nights you crawl into Caleb’s bed anyway and sleep next to him because it's more comfortable.

Grandma is nice to you. Sometimes, she looks like she’s somewhere far away but it never lasts for long. You’re thankful to her for taking you in. 

You have a warm bed to sleep in, good food to eat, and Caleb is right next to you. He’s your brother now, so you can be together forever. And none of the adults from the orphanage are here to punish him anymore when he tries to protect you. 

You’re ten and the world seems to be trying its best not to hurt you any further. Somehow, this only makes you feel more uneasy. 

You’re happy. It scares you. You often wonder when someone will punish you for it. If someone will be blamed for allowing it. It makes you feel helpless when you think about it too long. 

But you have Caleb. He makes it easier. You can cling onto his shirt when it gets too hard. And he’s older now, enough to really feel grown up. 

A night, when you clutch the fabric until it stretches wide, trembling after you’re plagued by bad dreams - having nightmares of rusted rain, Caleb is there. 

No matter how deeply asleep, he always wakes up to hold you. 

( You wait for him to tell you that you’re too big to be getting scared over nightmares, but the day still hasn’t come. You hope it never does. You think you’d be so sad you would never stop crying. )

You’re ten, and the world seems kinder - but you know better by now. You try to take precautionary measures against letting it take everything from you again. 

And you start small. With yourself, and your birthday. 

You’ve only ever celebrated a few birthdays. In the orphanage they’d celebrate a lot at once, so it never felt very  special. You can’t really remember the ones you had before then, don’t remember much from then at all.  Since you’ve been adopted, Grandma has celebrated your birthday and made it special. She and Caleb cook your favorite meal together and you sit around and cut-cake afterwards. 

They even decorate the house with balloons and streamers.

Your birthdays now don’t compare to the ones you had then. 

Nothing bad is happening but still. You like celebrating your birthday. But, can you feel okay about getting to celebrate a birthday at all? When you thought for sure your life might end before then?

Before your eleventh birthday, you announce to your family that you don’t want to do anything special this year. When they probe you with questions about why not, you refuse to give up any answers.

Caleb is thirteen and heartbroken when he hears you say this. Asks questions even as you turn your nose up and refuse to answer. You get into a fight about it, one of the very first of your entire relationship. 

It’s that same night you begin to sleep in your own room. 

In the weeks leading up to your birthday, you find your house to be more quiet than usual. Caleb is busy with something but you blame yourself for the distance between you. He always comes back seeming tired. Even though he still pats your head and smiles at you the same way, you notice when he seems a little less there at the dinner time. 

When your birthday finally comes, your grandma still decides to celebrate it in a small way. She makes your favorite food and gets you a cake and candles. Hugs you when you cry about it, too. The only thing they skip is the decoration. 

(You’re brave though, when next year rolls around and tell them you miss it. It makes Caleb happy enough to hug you tight.)  

The warmth that fills your heart seeing your name in iced letters is too big for your body. You wonder if this is what having a family was like. 

At night time, after dinner and before you cut the cake - you open your presents. There’s two for your eleventh birthday. One from grandma and one from Caleb. Usually, they sign their gift to you together but this year they’re separate. 

At first, your heart sinks, but you try not to think about it. Grandma gets you a bike that matches Caleb’s so the two of you can ride together. You’re happy to have it but Caleb insists you can just keep riding on the back of his if you don’t want to learn. 

You open Caleb’s gift second. It’s wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on it so you undo it carefully. Inside of it is a plain looking box.  

“Open it,” 

There’s a pair of earrings and a necklace when you do. It’s not cheap plastic like all the other jewelry you’ve ever had in your life. Little apples covered in gemstones, and a little gold necklace with a pendant and a locket. Your eyes go wide, fingers trembling a little as you touch it. 

You look for Caleb’s face unthinkingly. Kind and warm, eyes crinkled and shoulders slack in relief when he sees your happy reaction. His hand is warm as it rests on your head, rubbing gently. 

“It took a while but I’ve been helping our neighbors for money so I could buy it for you,” Caleb says, looking down at you with an easy grin. “The day you were born is important for me, so don’t say that you won’t celebrate it from now on. Okay?” 

When tears well up in your eyes, you barely have to say a word before Caleb brings you into his waist. You cry to him the same way you always do - with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt like you’re terrified of where you’d end up if you let go.

Even when you ruin his shirt with salty tears, Caleb never voices a word of complaint. His steady heartbeat and warm hands that make you feel like he’s already done it all before, stay exactly where you expect them. 

Your dependable, kind older brother. 

__ 

At thirteen, you take your first field trip overnight. 

It takes a tremendous amount of effort to make it happen. 

Grandma was easy to convince, but it took you fourteen whole days to convince your brother that you could handle going on a school field trip without having your hand held the entire time. 

(You can still hear the amused, taunting lilt in his voice from when you first mentioned it. Sure you’ll be okay pipsqueak? My bed won’t be there for you to take over if you get scared, you know?)

Ugh. He can be so strict. An you swear he was even more stubborn about it than usual. 

You had to use every tactic in the book to get him to say yes. Kissing up to him, acting extra wistful, doing your chores and being super well-behaved. After strategically buttering him up for two weeks prior to you just asking, you also made sure to ask when he had one of his friends over. He’s strict regardless of who's around, but having another person in your corner is good for morale. 

(This method is effective for the record. Just as Caleb goes to turn you down, his friend throws an eraser at him and clicks his teeth. 

“There’s a limit to your siscon behavior. Just let her go.”

You sneak said friend a candy the next time he comes over as thanks.) 

After a lot of persistent begging, Caleb relents and allows Grandma to sign your permission slip. It’s an overnight trip sure—but it’s heavily supervised and rooms are separated by gender anyhow. You really don’t know what he was so worried about.

So far, the trip has been really fun. You went to a butterfly garden conservatory as a part of your science project and one landed on your nose. Your friend even managed to get a good picture. In the afternoon, you did a bit of sightseeing and got to buy some street food. 

When evening rolled around, you and all your friends holed up in the same hotel room sleeping together on one big floor. You stayed up a few hours later than you should’ve—gossiping and discussing the newest chapter of a very popular romance webnovel.  Most of them are out by the time the clock hits midnight. 

And now, you’re the last one awake at 1am. 

Unfortunately, no matter how long you try to sleep—it is hard to sleep away from home, knowing Caleb isn’t right down the hall. No matter how much the thought makes you frown. 

You’ve outgrown the habit of crawling into his bed every night. Still, you think you rest easier knowing that he’s there. You’d never admit it but subconsciously, it comforts you just knowing he is. The few times you get nightmares of the Chronorift these days, your nightmares are especially persistent. You don’t crawl into his bed like you did when you were a little kid as often as you used to. Even when you want it, it’s just a little embarrassing. 

Regardless though, he’ll stay up with you until it passes, and until you go back to to sleep. It’s the only thing that helps it go down easier some nights. That he’d be there no matter what happened. 

By the time the clock strikes one-thirty, you get the feeling you just won’t be able to sleep unless you at least call him. 

So, after carefully sneaking your phone out of your bag - you leave your hotel room to wander the halls and end up in the lobby in your PJs. 

You realize your incidental act of rebellion when you catch some stares from late-night guests. You hesitate on whether or not you should go back before deciding that’d be pointless. Fingers hovering over the call button, it takes a beat before you hit and hear the number dial. He’ll probably scold you but you know he’ll answer. 

He picks up in one ring. His voice is thick with sleep when he speaks. “It’s late. You should be asleep.” 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Gege,” You say, crossing slippered feet against the tile of the hotel lobby floor. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

His voice softens instantly. “Somethin’ happen?” 

You shake your head before realizing he can’t see you. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” A beat. “I thought I would sleep better if…I talked to…someone.” 

It’s too embarrassing to tell him you wanted to talk to him, specifically. Caleb is quiet on the other side of the line before he laughs, just a little. “You were so adamant on wanting to go with your friends, huh? I thought you’d be just fine. Were you being brave for show?.” 

You frown a little, groaning. “I did have fun. A lot of fun. We talked a lot before bed too, and now everyone else is asleep. It’s not like I regret going. And I wasn’t being brave, I was just—” 

“Sure, sure. Still can’t sleep unless you know I’m there, huh?” 

Silence stretches over the line. You feel your face grow hot with embarrassment as you stretch your legs out, chin tucked against your chest.  

“Maybe I should just hang up on you,” 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Caleb says more gently. “You can call me as much as you want.” 

“You’re being nice like when we were kids.” You observe. 

Caleb scoffs a little. “I’m always nice.” 

You roll your eyes and Caleb laughs like he knows you did it. It’s quiet again before he speaks. In the voice that makes him feel older than he is. “I’m worried about you so I’m being even nicer than usual. Is that okay?”

His tone is light, teasing, but there’s more to it than he lets on. You trace a pattern into the worn, fabric arm of the chair you sit in. “Why?” 

“I get worried when you go somewhere I can’t see you.” He says agreeably.

Your face tugs into a frown, strangely mortified by the sincerity of it. “It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.”

Caleb laughs. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a kid.” 

You huff. “That’s not fair. Does that mean I’ll have to beg you like this to do anything for the rest of my life? You’re too much.” 

“At least until you turn eighteen.” Caleb replies, voice airy and content. “And if you’re still a little weakling then, probably a few more years after that too.” 

You groan. “How terrible. What kind of brother are you? So cruel.” You pause  “You’re more like my dad sometimes.” 

“Since you’re my responsibility, I usually have to act as all three.” Caleb says with ease. “You should get used to it.” 

Despite your grievances, your body relaxes exactly the way you expect as you listen to him talk. You yawn out loud,  sleep making your eyes and limbs heavy. 

“Finally tired?” He asks, voice softened. Doting. It’s so instant, you don’t have the will to fight it. “Go sleep. Make sure you eat tomorrow morning and don’t just wait until noon.” 

“Okay, Gege.” You yawn again. “Goodnight. Love you,” 

A long silence stretches between you. You wonder why he hesitates. “Love you too. Now go to bed. And don’t sneak out without telling your teachers again,” 

“Wait, how did you—” 

“I know everything.” He says dismissively. “Goodnight, okay?” 

You pull back and stare at your phone. He’s a little scary sometimes.

 “Yeah. Okay. Night,” 

__ 

At sixteen, you go experience the first real heartbreak of your life. 

It’s less over the actual relationship and more about the events leading to your break-up. 

Your secret boyfriend of five months kissed one of your closest friends. And you caught them both red-handed. 

It was in the gymnasium after school a few weeks ago. You nearly fist fought them both before getting overwhelmed and simply  running away in tears to a nearby playground. Your two other best friends had to pry you out of a bed of mulch and take you home after wiping your tears. 

You have a list of grievances about the situation. You like (?) the guy but you loved your friend - but now you have neither. And all of it happened for a reason you cannot wrap your mind around at all. 

You’re thankful for your other friends who have taken your side in the matter while still trying to get to the bottom of it. And it’s good having them, but in your time of teenage angst - the one person you’d like to tell absolutely can’t know. 

Not telling your older brother is hard. Keeping the secret makes you feel guilty enough, but it’s made harder when he’s home. And he will be for the next two weeks until he has to go back to the dorms. They’re on some kind of spring break. 

Until then, you make it your mission to keep up appearances. Since the one person you don’t want to find out about your relationship is the person who’d find out the fastest. 

Caleb is strict. Has been for as long as you can remember. Though you’ve never explicitly spoken on dating - he has, more than once, “subtly” warned you about having an interest in the opposite sex. You remember how you made stupid heart-eyes to one of his school friends years back and he still brings it up whenever you ask about him and how he’s doing. As if even wanting to know is some kind of betrayal. 

(And well, maybe you do ask just to see him react like that. It’s…funny. It’s not like Caleb needs to know that.) 

You don’t like keeping secrets from your brother. You’re close. Way closer than most people ever are with their siblings. 

Maybe because Caleb has always taken care of you—he feels less like a sibling you can pointlessly squabble with and more like your guardian at times. 

It’s hard for you to lie to him explicitly so the fact you’ve kept the relationship under wraps for five months is kind of impressive. 

You always told yourself, you’d tell Caleb if it ever got serious. Truthfully though, you didn’t think it was going to last. Didn’t even want to accept until your friends pressured you. 

Your now ex-boyfriend is the one who asked you out, which is what pisses you off the most. He’s one of the popular guys in your grade and he’s…nice. Was nice. You don’t think you’d be sad if he simply broke up with you and went out with your friend. You’d think less of him maybe, but it’s not like you’re in love with him. 

It’s all the other stuff that’s weighing you down. It’s getting into a fight with your friend. It’s getting two-timed by the jackass who asked you out first. One you didn’t even like that much. 

(Maybe not at all.) 

It’s wanting to whine and complain about all of this to your older brother who would take your side but not being able to - because you can’t tell him half truths. You don’t have it in you. You barely have it in you to lie to him.

(Truthfully, you think the only reason you’ve been able to all this time is because you’ve kept said boyfriend at arms length somewhat knowingly. You haven’t had a proper kiss.)

Telling Caleb everything is a long time compulsion you don’t know if you’ll ever unlearn.You don’t know if it’s loyalty or gratitude—only that it makes you feel like a dog whose been leashed to a post for most of your life before it gets unchained. 

Even when you’re no longer shackled to it, you find you can’t go anywhere. Being without it doesn’t free you, not really. You find it goes against what you know to try to escape without hearing the click of metal. 

You stay by the post. You tell Caleb everything. It feels outright wrong to lie about something important. 

(And it’s still hard lying about something unimportant.) 

You’re sure it speaks to the depth of your attachment but you always end up spilling your guts to him. Like a child always wanting to please their parents and behave. You know Caleb will accept you, even if he gets angry. But you don’t actually know how he’ll react and that scares you into not wanting to tell him at all. 

The thought of disappointing him is what makes you most uneasy. 

So, you decide that you’ll take it to the grave. It’s your one half-ass rebellion and these are the natural consequences. As long as you process your friendship grief and wear out your anger - it’ll be smoothed over before you know. 

Meticulously, you time your sessions of grieving and angry debriefing phone calls in the hours Caleb is out of the house. You work hard at keeping up as if nothing is happening in your life at all. You feel an unshakeable feeling of guilt the entire time, one that has you waking up in cold sweat but you ignore it because… well, you don’t really know how to fix it. 

(Truthfully - you’re irrationally worried that he’d leave over something so trivial, and you’d be seven and all alone in the world again. As nonsensical as it is, and as much as you want to pretend otherwise, your attachment to Caleb really matters that much to you.) 

You very nearly make it to the finish line of this plan too. Almost. . 

In the middle of your crying session - you answer a knock on the door and assume it’s Granny (who does, at least partially, know what’s going on). You open it without thinking. 

It’s the last person you want to see in the moment. 

You quickly try to shut the door but Caleb is quicker. Slides his unnecessarily huge body through the small gap and shuts it behind him - trapping you both. You stumble back a little, but he catches you by the wrist to make sure you don’t actually fall. 

You feel like a deer in headlights. Red, water rimmed eyes, runny nose, and face puffy - you try to pull your sleeves over your hands and wipe your face. Even though he’s already seen it. You’re too old to be crying like this in front of him. It’s humiliating. 

Caleb grabs your wrists easily before you can wipe them away. You blink away a few unshed tears to get a better look at his face. You inhale, your chest tight - feet like lead as you look at your older brother. His pinched expression, almost pained but still tender. Still gentle. Just seeing it again makes you want to cry. 

“I knew it,” He says. He drops your hands and instead cups your face with his palm, thumb wiping away tears as he cups your cheek. His expression is firm. “What’s wrong, hm?”

It’s like something in you collapses. 

You give into it without any effort. 

Caleb makes it so easy, after all, to be the weakest version of yourself.

With him, there’s no desire to fight what feels inevitable. So you let yourself fall to nothing in Caleb’s arms and cry. You’re torn up over your first real friendship fight so you let yourself lean on him. Just like you do at seven, and ten, and all the years before. Fist your hand tight in the fabric of his shirt like you’re worried he’ll shake you off, even though he never does.) 

(Later, you’ll remember this conversation and realize that there was never any room for anyone else. It was a kind of teenage naivety to think otherwise. 

You’ll hear the sentiment from everyone you know—friends, colleagues, family: the person you can be weakest with is who you should marry. If only you had known that then, too. Maybe accepting it would’ve been easier. Maybe you would’ve known sooner what feeling you’d spend the rest of your adult life chasing) 

Caleb rests his hand on the back of your head as he tucks your face against his chest. It’s warm and soft. The comforting scent of detergent and cologne, undercut by oil and jetfuel. You wish you could bury yourself in.

You stand and cry like that in silence for a long while. Caleb holds you tight without asking any questions, his chin resting on top of your head, patting your back. 

When you pull away from him, ready to explain - he walks himself over to your bed and sits on it. His expression is unreadable. Concerned but trying not to worry too son. 

With his legs wide, he opens his arms out to you to invite you into his lap the way you did when you were kids. You wonder if he’s joking—trying to make you laugh and cheer you up. 

But in the moment you’re so fragile, you tuck your chin and sit anyway. He stiffens briefly, as if surprised but soon enough, strong arms lay drape your waist as he lets you lean into him.

“Ready to talk about it?” 

You fidget. “Aren’t you busy?” 

He shakes his. “I’m all yours.” 

Your chest feels warm and fluttery when he says it. It soothes you. . 

You sniffle, adjusting in his lap. “I’m sorry.” 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks. “You don’t have to,” 

“No, I—” You shift in his lap. “It feels wrong. Not telling you.”

Caleb hums. “You’re at that age. I already know that much. But no matter what I’m on your side, so don’t hide when you’re feeling sad or upset. Okay?” 

“Nn,” You nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s really fine. It’s not like I can really be mad at you, right?” 

You make a small, thoughtful noise. “You say that but you’re unexpectedly good at holding grudges.” 

Caleb laughs. “Hm, that’s true. But not with you.” 

You repeat the words to yourself, half-dizzy with a smile. “Not with me.” 

Caleb smiles at you. He holds you a little tighter. You grab hold of his jacket, white knuckling the fabric until your heartbeat settles. 

“So. Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

__ 

( In the end, you tell Caleb everything from start to finish. 

It’s just as you predicted. Once you start, it’s hard to give him anything but the full truth. Caleb listens to you intently without interjecting. Rests his chin on your shoulders, leaving you with nothing but his body language to pick up on his moods. 

He stiffens when you tell him you had a boyfriend. Calms down when you tell him you didn’t like him very much, that all you did was hold hands and cuddle and you still think it was a waste. 

Caleb listens to it all. Hangs onto your every word until you’ve tuckered yourself out. You think of what they say about how a burden shared is a burden halved and hope that it’s fine to depend on him this much all these years later. 

Caleb is silent and steady for the duration of your talk. Towards the end he tells you: “No boy should ever make you cry. Should I get revenge for you?” 

“Gege,” You say exasperated “And what about boys making me cry? That’s all they do from what I can tell.”

He doesn’t refute that. “ That’s true. It’s better to avoid them, really. If I ever make you cry you though, you can hit me,” He replies. You laugh a little.

“I don’t think you would make me cry without good reason.” 

“If I do, I’ll make sure to repent for my whole life after.” He says, joking. Maybe joking. 

Your cheeks warm  “Your whole life feels like a long time.” 

“Is it? You can’t really get rid of me easily, so I think it makes sense.” 

“I guess that’s true. You can’t get rid of me either, you know.” 

Caleb grins at you. “How lucky.”) 

__

At nineteen, you go to a club in the Linkon entertainment district for the very first time. 

Your friends dragged you here. It’s your first year of the Hunter Academy and your first time living away from home. You’ve spent most of the school year completely focused on training and working towards your goals - trying to  be strong enough to work alongside a certain someone and hold your own. 

You’re not here of your own volition, but honestly? It’s not so bad. Drinking and dancing with your friends proves fun for the first couple of hours at least. 

After that gets old though, really more stressful than anything. 

You aren’t supposed to be here in the first place. That’s the main cause of your current unease. The club is 21+ and it was already an ordeal getting in. The longer you stay, the more restless you feel—the more you want to leave before anyone gets caught up in anything. 

You’ve been knocking back drinks all evening, courtesy of some of your friends - and the night is starting to come to a halt for you internally. All the discomfort and overstimulation go from engaging to overwhelming, and your head is starting to spin.

You’re in the section where you and your friends got invited. Apparently there’s someone tonight who's popular in the nightlife scene - son of some rich business man you think. Your friend has been doing you all the solid of keeping him happy. Your eyes flit over to where they dance on the floor and you feel yourself wince just looking at them. 

Shit, your head is throbbing. 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sink back in your seat and think about what the best strategy is to get out of here. 

All of you should go home honestly. There won’t be major consequences for simply being intoxicated, but sneaking into an establishment like this really might affect your ability to graduate. Your academy is not known for its leniency. 

Aside from that, you’re tired. You should have more energy than this. You would normally, you think. But it’s a Friday and you had taken up some extra training since you had no plans to be out. The addition of alcohol dehydrating you and the sharp and particular pain from stiletto heels makes you lethargic. Dead on your feet. 

It’s later in the night but not so late people are leaving. A second wave of attendees are shuffling in now. You have half a mind to mix with the crowd and leave by yourself. It feels like a good idea at least. 

But then, more people are brought to your section. You’re only half-paying attention as the guy from earlier, the one paying for you all, happily introduces the new group to people already sitting. 

“...And Caleb, it’s good to see you. You’re usually too busy to come to things like this,” 

A pair of eyes bore into you. You freeze completely, eyes glued to your phone screen as you catch a glimpse of the one person you absolutely do not want to be meeting here. 

“Yeah,” A familiar voice says. His voice is light like he’s not noticed anything.”I’m glad I came. I’ve already seen some interesting things.” 

The dull throb in your head turns the corner to a sharp pain. A feeling of complete misery washes over you. Truly, the worst possible outcome. You wonder what Caleb is doing here in the first place. From what you know, this isn’t usually his kind of establishment either. Maybe someone from his dorms dragged him here too? You think it’d be something like that. 

You make the mistake of looking up as Caleb slides in opposite to you with a few other friends. His expression is completely unreadable as your eyes meet across the table. He flashes you a smile that makes your nerves stand on end. All you can do is look away, eyes flitting back down your phone. 

A text appears at the top of your screen. 

from cpt big bro (1:03am): nice to see you. 

A feeling of unease immediately feels you, but when you look back up at Caleb - he’s pretending like you don’t even exist.

You don’t know why you feel so guilty in the first place. Sure, you snuck in here but it’s not like you did something unheard of. And you’re past the legal drinking age in the first place. And the clothes weren’t your idea. You’ll tell him that when he inevitably asks. 

You’re not doing anything so wrong but you’re worried he’ll get the wrong idea. 

(A voice in your head asks: what idea? You tell yourself it’d be embarrassing if your brother thought you were looking for a hook-up. It’s reasonable enough.

 You decide not to interrogate the reasoning any further, even when the feeling doesn’t go away.)

You find your gaze falling in your lap as you try to dissolve the overwhelming feeling of shame and upset just knowing Caleb’s seen you like this. 

It’s worse though to have him ignoring you. You know he’s probably doing it for your sake. Even knowing he’s not malicious doesn’t make it much better. Your eyes stay glued to your phone screen. 

You don’t know how much time passes before someone else joins you at the table. 

A woman this time. 

“Caleb! You actually came,” She says over the music. You watch her from your peripherals as she slides in next to him without hesitation. “I thought Kenji was lying to get more girls to show up.” 

You hear him laugh a little. You think he sounds a little uncomfortable, but maybe you’re reading too much into it. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Isn’t that always how that goes?” She hums. Your eyes widen slightly seeing the way she presses herself up against his arm. “But I’m glad you're here. Maybe I can convince you to dance.” 

“You can try,” He says. You know he’s just being amiable. Or at least, you think he’s just trying to be amiable. 

You’ve never really seen Caleb flirt with a girl, so you don’t have a real reference for what does and does not count. 

It’s the first time in all of your life you’ve ever seen Caleb get hit on so closely. You’re used to his popularity of course - but back then, Caleb usually made a point to run away. No one ever got near enough. He’s always been nice about it of course, tries to let people down easy. 

You don’t know the girl who's flirting with him now, but you can tell that they know each other. They’re sitting close, but not enough to be obvious. You can hear them too, though. Hear how she talks to him. It’s not hard to tell that she’s hitting on him. And your brother isn’t reciprocating but he’s not quite turning her down. It doesn’t seem to bother him, enough that when he makes jokes playfully rejecting her - the conversation still doesn’t sour.

They get along, is what you mean. Better than you thought they would. 

Your stomach churns. 

You try not to think about whats making you sick.  But it washes over you all at once. More dizzy  than nauseous. You feel like someone is tying your insides into a coil. The more you try to divert your gaze - the harder it is to ignore it. Caleb glances at you from time to time, but it seems accidental at best. 

Your heart is hammering. You think about how long it’s been since you’ve last seen each other. All the things that have happened while you’re apart. 

When you find you can’t sit and handle anymore, your body makes the decision to leave for you. 

It happens quickly. You stand to your feet, nearly stumbling in your heels as you talk to a friend on the dance floor and make-up a nonsense excuse about needing to leave. She offers to call you a taxi, but by then you’re already making a bee-line to the door and out of the club. 

It’s late when you leave. Your whole body feels like it’s trapped in ice as the unforgiving night air whips your skin and leaves you cold. You stumble down the steps in your heels until you finally make it onto the curb with all the other drunk club-goers trying to get home or sober up.

You’ll flag down a taxi, go home, and pretend nothing happened. You repeat the routine to yourself over and over. 

It feels like the only way you can handle it. Your mind can't process it otherwise. Can’t think too hard on what you might’ve been privy too. 

“Where are you runnin’ off to?” 

You freeze when you hear Caleb’s voice. You have half a mind to break into a sprint but you aren’t sure you can without breaking your ankles with your heels. Another part of you is preening over the fact he came immediately to find you. You turn around and try to walk away briskly - only to feel a warm hand on your wrist, pulling you towards him and making you come to a halt. 

“Let me go,” You mumble. 

He holds you a little tighter. 

“Don’t be like that. No matter how much training you have, I know you can’t run in heels so quit it,” Caleb says, with a sigh. “Why’d you run off?” 

“What do you mean why?” You say, words slurring. “Who’d wanna see—hicc—” 

Caleb frowns at you. “Why’re you trying to be tough if you can barely keep yourself standing up straight?” 

He sighs, bending down. You let out a noise as he undoes the strap of your heel. 

“Take them off,” 

You pout. “How am I supposed to walk home like that?” 

“I’ll carry you on my back,” He replies. “Your ankles with have a hard time if you keep wobbling like that,” 

“My feet will get dirty from the pavement.” 

You’re being difficult on purpose. Drunk and upset, arguing with anything he says. Caleb knows this you’re sure but he doesn’t seem to have a reaction to it besides mild exasperation. Despite that though, he still tends to you. 

He makes a face at you before sighing. You watch as he slides his jacket off of his shoulders and drapes it over you. It’s oversized on him, even more so on you.  It fits more like a dress and covers more than your outfit does. 

When you’ve slipped your arms through it, he drops down onto his knees and undoes the other strap of your heel. He turns around after that, signalling for you to get on his back. You want to refuse him but you find you don’t have the words to do so. You comply with his request, putting your arms around his neck as he lifts you with frightening ease. 

He bends down with you on his back to pick your heels up and carry them.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?” You mumble. Caleb sighs. It makes you bite your lip. 

“It can wait a bit.”  

“Hmph.”

You find you have nothing left to argue with him. You give up on trying to refuse and let him carry you, both hands lifting you up as you keep your arms around his neck. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, worried your makeup will smear on it. 

You don’t know how long you walk. Your eyes are closed for the duration of it and you only open them again when you sense a change of lighting. The noise of an automatic door and a tired greeting alarms you. You feel embarrassed, suddenly, at the idea that someone else has seen you like this. 

Caleb just greets them as normal.

“Aren’t you gonna let me down already?” 

“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” 

“No, but—”

He doesn’t respond to you further. You get the impression there’s not much meaning to continue arguing so you keep quiet. 

You watch from over his shoulder as he roams the aisles until he comes across cheap pairs of slippers and socks - next to other random household items. He picks the correct size without asking you. Seeing it only adds to the strange feeling you’ve had since leaving the club. 

He goes to self check-out, pays for the sandals, then carries you to one of the few seats and table near the window of the 7/11. Carefully, he sets you down on one, your heels on another, then silently opens the packaging. He drops to his knees and looks up at you in silent question. 

“You don’t need to—” 

He doesn’t say anything when you attempt to refuse him. Keeps quiet  and just waits for you, not unkindly. You frown and hold your foot out to him. He rolls each sock carefully onto your feet, pulling them all the way up over your ankle before the slippers follow. 

“Do they fit okay?”

“Mm,” 

You nod. Caleb hums. Holds his hand out. 

“C’mon. Pick out something to eat or drink so you sober up a bit,” 

“While we talk?” You ask, voice suddenly small. He pauses, smiles just barely, and pats your head with the same firm hand he always does. It makes you want to cry. 

“Yeah. While we talk.” 

You nod as Caleb helps you off the seat. “I’ll go get some water.” 

“Okay,” 

You think of what you want to eat. Childhood memories whisper answers to you. Chips and candy - sweet and salty so you have balance. You remember the way Caleb would cut into his own snack budget for you to get what you wanted. He’d pretend to complain, but he’d smile at you while you ate. 

You pick the same things you used to. You wonder if he’ll notice. 

He returns with two bottles of water. “Did you finish choosing?” 

You nod. His eyes drift to your hands. He cracks another smile that makes you happier then it should.

“I see. Let’s check out then, hm?” 

Your heart flutters. You follow him quietly. He goes to the cashier the second time around - amiable, friendly and easing some unspoken tension. Apologizes for the inconvenience and, with familiar diligence, asks if there’s a recycling bin for him to toss trash nearby. The cashier offers to do it for him. 

Afterwards, he holds his hand out to you like it’s only natural for you to want to hold it. You take it. 

Of course, you do. 

He guides you outside, and the two of you sit on the curb. An expectant look appears on his face when he dusts off place beside him where he’s hoping you’ll sit. You do, knees touching -  folding your hands into your lap. He opens the bottle of water and hands it to you. 

“We could’ve just shared one,” You offer.

“I’m not so stingy,” Caleb says.. You purse your lips. You want to tell him that’s not what you mean, but you don’t want to ask yourself what you do mean. 

You take it from him and drink. 

Silence stretches over the seemingly endless night. The streets of Linkon prove to be busy and limitless. Given the district you’re in, you’d expect it to be more packed - but the streets are desolate. Proof of life resides in the lights of buildings and clubs but now, here—it feels like you’re the only two people left in the world. 

It’s quiet for a long while. You sit like that until you break the ice. 

“You still haven’t asked me anything.” 

“Well,” Caleb looks at you from the corner of his eyes and shrugs, taking a drink. “I can kind of guess why you were there in the first place. Don’t have much of a clubbing spirit, you know. Your friends probably told you to go right?” 

You nod.“You’re not upset?” 

“Mm,” Caleb sighs. “Not at you for just going. It’s hard to be mad at you especially when you…” He trails off, an almost imperceptible smile on his. He shakes his head before continuing and you miss the window to ask about what that was all about. He glances at you again. “Your dress is too short, though.” 

You feel heat crawl up your skin. “It’s not that bad. And I’m nineteen,” 

“So? You’re still my baby sister. Naturally I won’t approve, right? You know that much.”

You bend over your knees, pouting. You feel weirdly happy but try not to think about it. “You’re so unreasonable sometimes.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I’m being very reasonable right now,” 

“...Mm.” 

Tension lingers in the air. You open the chips Caleb got you and tilt it his way. A peace offering. He takes one. 

“Why’d you run off?” 

You make a face. Will yourself to not cry as you tuck your chin. 

“...I dunno.” 

He glances at you. You miss the knowing expression on his face. “Even if you were doing a good job of lying, you know that wouldn’t work on me right? Did something happen? Something you can’t tell me?” 

“Nothing happened but you—”

Caleb interjects. “Me? So it’s because of me then.” 

You bite your tongue. Caleb is lost in thought. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin your night showing up. Didn’t know you’d even be there. It’s not like I’m mad or anything.” Caleb starts. 

“It’s not that,” You say quickly. The frustration just thinking about it makes your throat well up. You can feel it. You drink water trying to wash it down. 

“Then?” 

It slips out of you, exasperated as you sit up and turn to look up at him. 

“You were ignoring me,” You say, voice wet and shaky - hands fisted at your knees, shoulders tight. You still haven’t sobered up much. Your lips curl into a frown. Caleb is stunned into silence. “You didn’t even… I thought you were mad at me. And then that girl sitting next to you was—”

You stop yourself. Caleb looks at you wide-eyed. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again soon after. He processes what you’ve said slowly, though he doesn’t seem surprised by all of it. 

“I wasn’t mad at you. Surprised, but not so mad. Even if I were mad, I wouldn’t ignore you. It’d make more sense for me to drag you out myself, don’t you think?” 

You huff. “It felt like you were mad at me. And—”

You want to ask. Who was she? Why was she so close to you? Why didn’t you push her away? Do you like her? 

Nothing comes out right. You bite your lip. “That girl… was she your friend?” 

Caleb stops. He looks awkward all of a sudden. “Huh? No, no. She’s my senior. She has someone else she likes,” 

“She was hitting on you,” You say bluntly, sticking your feet out. “And you didn’t stop her.” 

For a brief moment, you swear he looks amused. His expression settles again quickly. “I know she’s not being serious so I didn’t feel like there was any point causing a rift.” 

“She’ll get the wrong idea. If you don’t turn her down properly and just let her—” Be all over you. Touch you so close. Get in your space. “...flirt with you.” 

A beat. “You think I should turn her down properly then?” 

It hangs in the air. You want me to turn her down?

You bite the inside of your lip. “Yeah.” 

“Will it make you feel better?” 

Your eyes meet. For a brief second you feel like someone has stolen all the air from your lungs in one go. You look down. 

“Yeah,” 

Caleb’s breath hitches just a touch before he speaks. “Okay.” 

He opens his arm up to invite you closer and slot into his side the way you used to. Blinking wetly, you scoot across the concrete and tuck yourself under the safety of his arm. Your face is close to his chest. He smells like cologne and iit makes your heart beat feel erratic. His hand comes up to stroke your head and you let him soothe you like you have so many times before. 

“No matter what happens, there’s nothing you could do or say that’d make me angry enough to ignore you. I’d never ignore you if I didn’t think you wanted me to,” 

“I never want you to ignore me, ever.” You say immediately. “Never ever.” 

He chuckles. The way it reverbs in your body makes you dizzy. “Okay, princess. Noted. Do you wanna sit a little longer or should I call a car for you?” 

You tuck into his side. It’d be nice if you never had to leave him ever again. Pressing into him, your words muffle in the fabric of his shirt. You tug at the hem. 

“Wanna stay here. Just for a bit.” 

He hesitates above you. But a while later, you feel his lips at the crown of your head - right at your hairline. His voice is gentle. “Sure. As long as you want,” 

__

At twenty-two, you often dream of your older brother. 

At first, it’s grief. Caleb dies not long after your birthday and in the months that pass - the warm memories of your childhood seem to follow you into sleep. Some nights, it feels kind to see him. In your dream, you run into his arms and he holds you tight when you tell him you missed him.

Grief holds the rest of you hostage. You want for nothing and think of nothing except your brother. You miss Grandma too, of course you do. 

But there’s nothing in the entire world like a brother. Like your brother—who you could ask anything of. It’s hard to unpack the loneliness you feel. Hard to explain it to other people. 

In the months you correct yourself from saying have to had—and watch peoples eyes change into one of sorrow and pity. At the worst of it, you can’t even pretend to think of that as a kindness. Can’t even thank them for being nice. At the worst of your grief, you find yourself especially angry at being pitied. You look at people and want to say they don’t understand. They don’t know what you lost. There are no words that make it digestible. You bite your tongue, give a tight-lipped smile. 

What you wanted to say was this: How dare you act like you understand what I lost? How dare you feel sorry when you don’t know the half of it? My brother is dead. A piece of me is missing.

You never say any of it. You bury the words in the black vast of your grief and throw yourself at finding answers. 

Your feelings about the incident change the more you find out. About Grandma and the abomination in your heart—and you cycle from anger to sorrow to unease.

They never change about Caleb though. The apparition of him, warm and broad, cycles through your dreams every now and again. Some nights, you wake up expecting to be seven years old again—clinging to your older brother, the only thing you know in the world that’s made you lose everything. 

Most nights, you wake up from dreamless sleep and feel yourself wanting to cry. 

(You don’t cry often when he’s gone, even when you should. 

Who would be there to hold you now when you do?) 

When you finally see Caleb again, see him alive—your emotions become just as complicated as your mind has been in the months of his absence. 

You’re ecstatic, you’re angry, you’re terrified, you’re so so sad. You are all of these things at the same time. 

And then, you realize that the death of Caleb did not only change you. Your older brother comes back to you. He’s warm, kind, and gentle sometimes. But it’s not the same. There’s something about him, inexplicable, that is changed forever. 

Caleb dies and comes back wrong—but this only strengthens your resolve. To do what, exactly? You aren’t sure. You don’t know what you want and you still know nothing about the Aether Cores. Or about what Caleb does. 

All you do  know is that your older brother has come back to you, and you are empty without him. You’d rather have him wrong than not have him at all. You’ll fix him or become wrong with him before you ever let go of him again.

(Even the way he is now, sometimes, he seems worried about ruining you. You want to say sometimes—then ruin me. You know what he’d say if you did. He knows he’d tell you to watch your tongue and not to say what you don’t mean.

You’ve thought about it, though. You’d rather that then he disappear again. You’d rather you know what's going on then not. ) 

Things have changed. Caleb has changed.

You have changed, most of all. 

When you hear from Caleb for the first time he no longer wants to be your brother - that he’s tired from playing house with you, your first reaction is devastation. The memory of that dread is so strong, you still feel it when you replay it all in your mind. Caleb above you, caging you in, unreadable—no longer what you know. 

You don’t think about anything. You can’t. It destroys you completely to hear him say it. Makes you want to cling to him and beg. Cry loudly enough to wake the version of him that did want to be your brother. That loved you unconditionally. 

When you have to go the next morning and find a memory of your childhood tucked away - you realize not all of him is lost to you. That the parts of him you loved so dearly have not entirely disappeared. 

So you stay, and try to mend the broken pieces of your relationship back together.

At twenty-two, you often dream of your brother. 

When he comes back to you, you think you’ll be given one more dream before he disappears. You figure the real thing is back in your hands. It’ll go back to the way it was before, where your sleep is long and dreamless but that’s fine. As long as you can wake-up and see the sun, without feeling like yours was stolen from you—anything is fine. 

At twenty-two, even after you learn he’s alive, you often dream of your brother. 

The first time you ever have a wet dream of Caleb is just after he comes back to Linkon. 

After you sit in the garden with Caleb and blow the hydrangea petals away from his face, and his hand comes up to touch you. After he promises to take good care of the flower he takes back to SkyHaven. After he tells you there was no way he’d be able to stay away from you. 

When you sleep the night after he returns home, you dream of Caleb again. 

This time you’re in your bedroom—the one from your childhood home, that Caleb spent so many years taking up space in. You dream of your brother on top of you and you both look a little younger. His face contorted with pleasure, and your hand being the one to give it to him. The image missing from the waist down, all you can see is the clear view of him over you. Making it so obvious what you’re doing. Doing together.  

You wake up from your dream with a feeling like something’s crushing your chest. A wheezing breath as you struggle to calm down. A distinct feeling of wetness between your legs that cling to your PJs when you stumble into your bathroom - trying to relieve yourself and being confronted with the reality of what just happened. 

The first time you have a wet dream about Caleb—you only feel shame. You tell yourself that it’s a fluke, and that dreams are meaningless anyway. It makes you violated to think of him like that. You can’t control what you do in your sleep. You decide not to dwell. 

Weeks pass and you see Caleb again. You share fruit and more conversation, and the following night - you have another wet dream. This one, more vivid than the last. Different. You dream of Caleb with a baton to your neck and the tension in the room when he caged you in his arms. In your dreams he’s cruel as he drags the metal end down your body, pushes it against your—

You wake up the next morning almost inconsolable. 

The cycle repeats for as long as you see him. Every time Caleb appears in your life, you dream of him the next night. You wake up in shock, wet down your legs and spend all morning trying to suppress it down as far as you can. 

You tell yourself all sorts of things when it happens. You reason with yourself. Dreams are nonsense. You can’t control them. It’s your brother. You don’t think of him like that.

(You think of all the times you’ve seen him since he’s returned. All the ways his eyes soften for you, all the ways his hands linger—how ever since he’s denied being your brother at all, you think of what that might make you now. 

It breaks your heart to not have him as your brother. Your precious family. An unbreakable bond. The one you love most. He touches you the way brothers aren’t supposed to, and you remind yourself of what you can’t have. You remind yourself of what loss you would feel first.

He always looks pained when he touches you like that, though. And, for some strange reason, sometimes you want to tell him: Did you know I dreamt of you touching me? So you don’t need to make that face. Like you’re wrong. My dreams couldn’t make you this gentle.)

The harder you try to force it down, the harder it is to pretend it’s nothing. You push and push and push—but each time you see him, the cycle repeats.

Eventually, it’s too hard to pretend. You refuse to name it, or think about it—but when you let your mind stop forcing it so deep into your subconscious, it’s easier to reconcile. 

It doesn’t go away. But your skin prickles with embarrassment, and you sigh, and you move on from it. Even if the dreams don’t stop, you can go on about your day when you leave it all alone.

You think maybe, if you and Caleb never saw each other again, it might even work to rid you of the dreams completely.

But he’s your brother—your precious family, the one you love most. You see him all the time. Whenever your schedule allows it, he’s the first person you check with to see if you can come spend time with him. Even if he can’t be with you, you stay over at his place to eat his food and watch TV on his expensive flatscreen. 

It makes you feel like you live together again. 

(You try not to reel at the thought. It’s normal for siblings to stay together from time to time. It’s like a sleep over. That’s all.) 

So it’s not unusual for you anymore to drop by his place. You even have a key. 

(Your key, you think. Caleb put a stupid green apple cover on the top part of it. It’s for you, and only you.) 

Even when you do come over, sometimes you only see him at night. You have little conversations before you need to go to sleep (or rather, when he makes you go to sleep.) But it still feels better than only seeing him sometimes. 

So it’s not unusual for you to be here in your PJs and watching something stupid while draped on Caleb’s couch. 

It is unusual, however, to have him come home so soon.

PART TWO: SO ONLY SAY MY NAME, IT WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

You pick your head up as soon as you hear the security system for Caleb’s apartment announce someone at the door. The time reads 6:56pm.

Heavy footfall makes you pick yourself up, crawling to the edge of the couch and standing on your knees to catch sight of him. You lean forward. 

“You’re home early.”

It takes him a second to register who's talking, but he smiles slightly when he does. Turnt towards the doors, he’s leaned against a wall as he undoes the laces of his steel-toed boots. 

“So are you,”

You give him a melodic hum. “I got off since we have a holiday. I have Monday off too.” 

“Yeah? That’s good. You should try to rest up some,” 

“I will. Gotta catch up on my shows first though,” You reply thoughtfully. “I’m like half-way through ‘em.” 

“Workin’ hard I see. Try not to over-exert yourself.” He adds, playfully sarcastic. You nod. 

You answer him in silly earnest. “Of course. I’m more relaxed here so don’t worry.” 

He pauses as he finally stands back up. You see him at the other side of the room with a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

You feel something in your stomach that you choose to ignore. “Yeah. Plus I don’t have to eat my own groceries.” 

“It’s better you eat mine than me wasting them,” He says with a shrug. 

“How generous of you.” 

“Right?” 

You lean forward, resting more of your weight on the couch. “Did they just send you home early too? Or is it some special Colonel privilege?” 

You see him shake his head as he slides off his coat and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a plastic bottle of water out of it before taking a few long drinks. 

“Mm, kinda the first.” He says thoughtfully. “I got injured in the field today, had to go to the infirmary. It’s a minor injury but I checked in with my commanding officer and he told me I might as well go home.” 

You frown. “What kind of injury?” 

“It’s really fine,”

“Caleb.” 

He sighs, turning towards you. The open fridge door illuminates him. “Just got a bruise along my thigh from how I fell. Nothing broken.” He says. You’re still frowning at him. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“How can you be fine if they sent you home?” 

“It’s not like that,” 

“I don’t believe you,” You say petulantly. Caleb shuts the fridge door with his hip as he laughs. 

“What, you want me to show it to you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s on my thigh. I’d have to take off my pants,” He says, laughing. He joins you on the couch - sitting where you were laying—eyeing you while he waits for you to come join him. You narrow your eyes suspiciously but crawl over to him anyway, sitting beside him with your legs up. “Unless you’re really just wanting me to strip, promise it’s fine. I’ve had it worse,”

“That’s not a good thing. If it were me you’d be freaking out already and fussing over me.” 

“It’s different,” 

“Is not,” 

“Is too. My little sisters still a bit of weakling, see—if I don’t take good care of her she’ll end up hurting herself even worse,” Caleb says, voice high. 

“I’m not even weak. Maybe not as strong as you but not weak.” 

“When you get stronger than me, we can talk about who gets to worry about who,”  He says, flicking your forehead lightly. You pretend to flinch at the injury. 

“You let me do whatever I want except worry about you.” 

“You got it. Glad you’re getting up to speed.” 

You elbow him. Caleb laughs. 

You sit back with your knees to your chest, frowning. Caleb leans back, arm stretched on the back of the couch. Inching closer to him subconsciously, your brow furrows as you think about his injury. 

It’s like he reads your mind.

“You’re really worried about it.” He murmurs.

You purse your lips. “No shit.” 

“Don’t cuss,” 

“I’m twenty-two!” 

“So?” He raises his eyebrow. 

“You make me want to strangle you sometimes.” 

“If you succeed I’ll be impressed.”

You glare at him. “I’ll make sure to wait until you’re fully recovered so it counts,” 

He relaxes into the couch, eyes filled with mirth. “Smart move.” 

“You’re still in your outside clothes. Don’t you want to wash up first?” 

“Do I smell bad?” 

“No, that’s not it. But if you get too comfortable, you might not want to get up to do it, you know?” 

“I’m not like a certain someone, so I’m not worried about that.” Caleb says. You huff as he continues on. “I just wanted to sit with you for a bit first. Is that not okay?” 

“I didn’t say all of that. Don’t put words in my mouth, jeez.” 

He hums. “Just checking,” 

Comfortable quiet  settles between you as Caleb sits and watches your drama with you intently.

You relax further into the couch as you settle back in, once again engrossed in your show. It’s a period and fantasy drama about a once noble woman getting married against her will to a supposedly cruel emperor. Crude description aside, it has high political stakes, violence, and good writing. 

The romance aspect of the show was what drew you in more-or-less, but it’s a slowburn between the main couple. You’ve mostly been watching for the high-tension plot. It captures both your attention and seemingly Caleb’s too. 

“Wait,” Caleb interrupts half-way through an episode. “I want to watch the rest with you but I need to shower,” 

You smile at him. “It’s good right? It’s not a lot of romance but there’s other stuff. We can watch it together after you wash-up and maybe…we can have a drink together.” 

“You’re so interested in that,” 

“I want to know what kind of drunk you are. It’s not fair you’ve seen me drunk and I haven’t,” 

“Pfft,” He rubs your head with hand, amused. “What kind of reason is that? But you know what? Sure. Order whatever you want with my card while I go shower.” 

“Yay!” 

You pause the TV as Caleb stands up and stretches, fishing for his wallet and passing you his card. Snatching it from between his fingers, you give him a mischievous look that makes him laugh. 

“Go shower,” 

“I am, I am,” He holds his hands up. “I’ll be quick,” 

__

You watch your drama late into the evening. 

You drink casually with Caleb as you binge watch the final few episodes of the season you started on. You take a break later in the night to have dinner delivered to you, but afterwards - you decide to keep watching. 

Caleb wasn’t lying when he told you he holds his drink well. You’ve both been knocking them back since eight pm. Even with the time to sober up in between, he seems like he hasn’t had a single thing to drink the entire time. 

You feel far from wasted, a warm meal in your stomach settling some of inebriation - but you still feel somewhat tipsy. At least enough to have that pleasant, warm, loose-limbed buzzed. You’re sober enough that Caleb doesn’t get on your case about drinking enough water - though you sure it’ll be a different story in another hour or two if it keeps going. 

Half-past midnight - you’re two episodes deep into the third season of your drama. 

Relaxed, you’re half-way draped on Caleb - legs in hips lap and nursing another cheap can of beer. After several episodes of action and violence - the story is starting to get back to the romance aspect for the main couple. 

Maybe it’s your fault for not thinking it through, but you’re really not expecting a graphic sex scene to play so soon after so much high plot. 

In the first place, it doesn’t start out like a sex scene. The main character went to go visit her injured husband after he returned from battle. Sweet, you thought. Maybe you’d get to see them have some intense, longing eye-contact like they’ve been having for a while now. 

You aren’t sure when exactly it takes a left turn. You’re tipsy and comfortable and warm. On your phone looking things up on social media. 

They kiss once, then twice before a breathy moan cuts through the comfortable.  

Before you can scramble to find the remote and scrub through it, the scene changes instantly in temperature. A few tepid kisses rapidly go from chaste to deep, all tongue and teeth. 

Near full blown nudity flashes across your T.V. screen as a strange heat creeps up your neck. You feel like you’ve had enough mental torment when you see the male lead kiss his way down the female leads neck. It’s more uncensored then you thought. 

Your voice is trembling a little. “We should uhm,” You swallow thickly. “Where’s the remote..?” 

Caleb feels a little… different. He seems startled hearing you speak, looking at you with lidded eyes. “Not sure. Think you had it last,”

“Oh, right. I don’t,” Another moan rips through the tension between you. It takes your full body effort not to jump. “....really remember where I put it,” 

“You want me to help you look?” 

You blink at him. “I mean… we should, probably look for it. Since, uhm… you know.” 

“Are you uncomfortable?” Caleb interrogates. You stare at him. 

“You aren’t?” 

Caleb is quiet for a long time, like he’s thinking hard about the answer. 

“I feel fine,” Is what he says after what feels like forever. 

“You feel… fine.” 

He nods without looking at you. “We can skip it if you want. Probably have to get up to find the remote, though.”

You sink back in the couch, your face feeling warm. “It’s fine, then.” 

You’re a little startled as the couple on T.V starts to really have sex - at least more than foreplay. It’s not full frontal, but the sounds and angles are enough to get the point across. Caleb just… watches. Relaxed.

“You sure?” He offers, glancing at you again. “It’s fine if it’s too much for you,” 

Frowning, you sit up slightly. “What do you mean too much for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re saying it like you’re used to it,” 

Caleb gives you another glance. Assess you once or twice before looking back at the T.V. 

“Does it matter if I am or I’m not?” 

You find yourself at a loss for words. Is he used to this? That can’t be the case, right? 

“You never dated anyone when we were growing up.” 

Caleb nods. “You don’t really need to date someone for something like that, though it’s better that way.” 

You find yourself shocked by his answer. He’s changed a lot, you know that but—

But it feels wrong. You can’t imagine him just hooking up with someone and having a one-night stand. He’d only ever do it with a girlfriend. So if he has any experience, it’d have to be with someone like that. 

He smiles at you. “You’re making a scary face.” 

You look up at him, unsure of what face you should be making. The question slips out before you can stop to think about whether or not you should even ask it. 

“So are you… used to it?” 

He pauses before leaning in. “This is the second time you’ve asked,” 

“That’s…” 

“I don’t think it’s the kind of thing someone’s little sister should ask their older brother right?” 

You snap your mouth shut. Caleb leans a little closer. “Right?” 

“You’re not answering,” You whisper. Your foreheads touch.

“Is there a specific answer you’re looking for?” Caleb says. 

Your eyes widen, teeth pressing against your lip as you tear your gaze away from his face. . “No,” 

“Is that what my answer should be or are you answering what I just asked?” 

You don’t give him a reply. 

Caleb lets out a soft breath of laughter before he finally seems to decide he’s teased you enough. He gets like this more and more lately. Most times you cool off from it quickly but… 

You aren’t sure what drives you to make a move. What makes you tug him back to you by the front of his shirt when he tries to pull away. If it’s the alcohol, or the jealousy that makes you do it. It’s hard to say what the source of your heart pumping so hard is—only that it’s all Caleb’s doing. 

Your hands fist in the front of his shirt as you drag him forward and kiss him as hard as you possibly can, only barely avoiding biting down with your teeth. Chaste but harsh, you press your lips together with nothing but pure desperation, air pushing hard through your lungs as you do. For a minute or two, longer than a kiss should last. 

And then, you pull away. Out of breath like you just ran a marathon, cheeks hot and flushed. Your first kiss that you initiated.  It’s almost mundane. 

Embarrassed, your first instinct is to jump off the couch and lock yourself in the bathroom. But Caleb knows you. Even better than you know yourself. 

He catches your wrist as he leans towards you. His expression is unreadable. 

“You kissed me,”  He says, completely entranced. “You did right? I didn’t just dream that?” 

“It’s your imagination. You must be drunk,” 

He laughs good naturedly. “Maybe I am.” 

Your frown deepens. How do you refuse him when he acts like that? 

Your heart feels like a jackhammer against your ribcage. You can’t. You really can’t. You shouldn’t have—

“I didn’t mean to k-kiss you,” 

Blatant heartache fills his eyes. It feels like something is crushing your chest. “Is that so?” 

You squeeze your eyes, relenting only a little. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “We can’t.”

Caleb scoffs “Why? Because you see me as your brother?” 

“You are my brother.  You are and you always will be, and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t, I can’t. You’re—” 

“Why can’t you?” His voice is raw, almost desperate. Trying so hard to understand you. It makes you hurt seeing him like that. “What can I do to become more to you?” 

“You’re already`—” Everything to me. “You’ll always be the most important person to me.” 

His hands grip tighter, devastation darkening the familiar aura of warmth you’ve come to love. Like he’s at the precipice of something considering what he should do. It takes him a while to come upon answers. Staring at you so desperately before closing his eyes, loosening his grip like he’s ready to let you go.

He looks like he makes a choice then. Really makes one. You can already predict what’ll do. What smile he’ll give you but it feels different from other times.

You hold onto him before he can, hand fisted in his shirt. He startles again, softens, not agitated despite how wishy-washy you’re being.

“It’s not that I don’t want you,” You say, so quietly it almost evades you both. “But I don’t want to lose you as my brother if we become more than that.” 

Silence falls between you. 

“You won’t lose me,” He replies, gently and easily. Your eyes meet. It’s nice. “I want to be everything to you, remember? All of it. I want you to only think of me for the rest of our life. For us to only need each other. You don’t need to give anything up. When have I ever said no to you?” 

You turn away from him, shaking your head. “You said that you never saw me as family, that you wouldn’t be—” 

Caleb stops you. “I want to be everything to you. Everything. I want us to only need each other. I had to make you understand. From the start, I never intended to give anything up for anyone else.”

“But that’s…” 

“I don’t care if it’s wrong,” He says, reading your mind. “I’m asking what you want. Tell me who you want me to be. I’ll do all of it for you. 

You glance down, away from him - guilt, remorse, fear. You’re resolve is wavering, but you’re too afraid to say it out loud. 

His voice softens. A hand, big and warm and kind, cups your cheek. You know. Know every scar, every touch. 

“Tell your big brother what you want and he’ll give it to you.” 

Something in you shatters. The weak resistance you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately, denying yourself of what you’ve wanted deep down all this time. Having it offered to you, handed to you—proves to be too much. It all comes tumbling down. 

Your voice comes out like a whine. Your dependency more than shows. 

“Touch me,” You gasp, voice wet with tears. Caleb cracks a slight smile. “Touch me, please—want you so bad. Don’t want anyone else to have you.” 

Caleb looks elated. Adoring. Madly and terribly in love. 

“What a crybaby, hm?” He pulls away from you, standing up before scooping you in his arms “Here. Hold onto me. I’ll carry you,” 

“Caleb, I’m too—” 

He stops you. “I have a bionic arm. Don’t say you’re too heavy. It could carry ten of you.” 

He keeps good on his promise. You wrap your arms around Caleb’s neck as he picks you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, a gasp leaves your mouth as his hands rest under your thighs - lifting you as he walks you to his room. It reminds you of when you were little though a lot has changed since then. 

The realization makes you nervous. 

“The TV is still playing.” You mumble..

“You won’t be able to hear it from my room,” 

“This is embarrassing,” 

“You’ll live.”  Caleb hums. 

“I hate you,” 

Caleb opens his bedroom door with his hip and closes it the same way, walking you to the end of his bed and dropping you on to his mattress. He leans over you, hands on either side of your thighs to keep himself up - inches away from your face. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’ll make me sad.” He says sweetly.

You pout. “Sorry,” 

He laughs a little. “It’s okay,” 

This close to you, you feel a strange warmth glow your whole body. You crane your neck up to kiss him chastely, pulling away and feeling shy again. 

“You taste like beer,” 

Caleb stares at you for a long time, smiling slightly. Dazed. “Should I go brush my teeth?” 

You look down, away from his face, your hands fiddling with the ends of his shirt. “No…” 

He presses his forehead to yours, noses brushing. “How can you be so cute, hm?” 

“Quit that,” You whine.

“If you get this embarrassed just hearing you’re cute, you’ll have a hard time later on.” 

You blink up at him owlishly. He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’m barely holding it together, you know?” 

You look up at him. 

“What do you wanna do to me?” 

His eyes seem to dilate.  “Don’t ask me that,” 

“Tell me. I want to know,” 

He laughs breathlessly. “That’s unfair,” 

“I don’t have to be fair with you,” You say petulantly. “Tell me,” 

“I’ve spoiled you too much.” Caleb says, faux regret. “Even if you get scared, you can’t run away.” 

“I won’t get scared,” 

“Really?” Caleb hums. He moves to the side, his mouth next to your ear - voice barely audible. He puts his hands over yours as he towers over you. “You sound confident, but you know—I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. So badly that it scares me just thinking about it. Can you handle that?” 

It’s a confession you think, as much as it’s dirty talk. He pulls back and you’re face to face again. 

“I’m not scared of you. Even if you can’t control yourself I won’t be scared.” You tell him, headstrong as always.

His smile falters. “I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“I know you like to call me a weakling but you know I’m not really made of my glass,” You stare at him, eyes tracing over his features. “It’ll be hard for you to break me in one go. Might’ve be fun,” 

He tsks. “Don’t talk like that. I’d prefer to treasure you.” 

You look at him for a long time quietly. 

“I dreamt of you.” 

“Hm?” 

You feel your face flush, but for some strange reason - you have an urge to tell him. The words come easy. Maybe you’ve just been waiting for a reason to confess. 

“Of you touching me,” Caleb’s eyes go wide. You smile a little. “Used to dream of you when you were, you know… but it wasn’t the way I dream of you now.” 

“How do you dream of me now?” His voice is strained. 

“They’re dirty dreams,” You say, fidgeting. “Sometimes I’m touching you and making you feel good. But most of the time, it’s you doing whatever you want to me.” 

His voice is hoarse. “Yeah?” 

“Mm,” You lock eyes. You can see it in him. It almost feels cruel, but you’re not saying it to tease him. “I had a wet dream about when you were interrogating me. You were being mean in that one. Really mean,” 

“I already said sorry about that,” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” 

He swallows. “Oh,” 

“Yeah, oh.” You slide your hand up his arms, squeezing the back of his biceps as he leans over you. Look up at him with mutual love. “I’ll only say it once so please listen carefully: I’m fine with anything if it’s you.” 

It’s unexpected when Caleb tackles you to the bed. Not to kiss you, rather—but to hug you. You squeal as you both drop onto the mattress with your legs hanging off the edge. Caleb’s full weight crushes you, trapping you in his arms. You find yourself laughing a little, giggly as you feel him squeeze you tight enough to crush you.

“You’re squishing me, Caleb.” 

He laughs breathlessly, rolling you both to the side. Pulling away with your face inches apart, he beams. 

“Do you know that I’m crazy about you? Or do you say things like that not even knowing?” 

“I don’t know,” You say, burying your face against his chest. “I just know you take good care of me. I want to take good care of you too,” 

A spectrum of emotions pass through Caleb’s features at once at the admission. It’s the most vulnerability he’s ever shown you.

His body stiffens. He takes a deep breath before pulling away from you. You watch him innocently as he pushes himself up closer to the headboard. Rolling onto your stomach, you stare at him as he rolls onto his side. 

“More comfortable this way, right?” 

Consider without trying, your face warms. Caleb’s voice is whisper soft. “C’mere.” 

You push yourself up until you’re closer to him, legs no longer hanging off the edge.

Within his reach, Caleb’s hand find your waist. He’s strong, you forget it all too easily—until he’s manhandling you to be in his grasp. Careful but demanding. Rolling on his back, he pulls you onto his lap until you’re straddling him. 

The view proves too much for you both. His face is pink. A sheepish smile on his face. 

“Regretting it?” 

You shake your head quickly, careful not to rest your weight on his lap. He rests one of his hands on your thigh, closer to your knee and steals a glance at you. 

Like this, you become aware of him for the first time. Consciously, as if he’s become a completely different person. All the things you’d never allow yourself to consider, slowly draw into focus. Like seeing him with a new set of eyes.

You notice every detail. Sparking arousal and curiosity, you put your hand on his chest and just stare. Unconsciously, your fingers reach for the dog-tag necklace you gifted him - straightening it. Metal warmed underneath your fingertips, you center it on his shirt. At the dip of his muscles where his chest is. 

Fitted tank-top shows off enough to give you an idea of what’s underneath. Smooth, alabaster skin. Muscles bulking underneath the ribbed cotton - soft and supple from lack of tension, rising and falling with each breath. Your thumb smooths over the silly apple-shaped pendant, the raised letter of the dogtags. The brief skin to skin makes the air feel electric. 

You do it unthinkingly, really. Following your instinct, you rest your hand on his chest before sliding them up closer to his neck. Defined clavicles, the long  column of his throat and how it leads to the angled curve of his jaw. Eventually, your hand finds his face. His boyish features—handsome but youthful. Caleb leans into the touch. His usual, playful teasing nowhere to be found. It makes you jolt in surprise. His expression is painted by desire, a rosy flush to what's an otherwise perfect face. 

His voice grows thick. An octave deeper than you’re used to. “Having fun?” 

“Nn,” You shift under the weight of his gaze. “Sorry,” 

“S’fine,” He says, pressing his cheek to your palm. “You can touch me however you want.” 

Hearing it embarasses you. But your reply comes quickly. “You too,” 

Caleb smiles shakily. His hand slides up your thigh. It’s slight, barely there. His hands are trembling. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“We’ve kissed before,” 

He shakes his head. “It won't be like before.” 

“I don’t have any experience,”

Caleb laughs breathlessly. “I don’t care.” 

You frown, but let yourself fall forward. Suddenly inches apart, your eyes widen. Caleb is staring at you this time. His eyes soaking in your expression, gaze falling onto your lips and staying there. They flicker back to yours for silent permission. 

You meet his eyes completely assured. He swallows and cranes his neck, his hand coming up to your face to cradle it. His thumb traces your lips, inching himself closer and closer. You can hear his breath. Feel it on your face from how close you are. 

Cupping your nape, he presses his lips to yours with unfathomable tenderness—undercut with the hottest flames of desires you’ve ever felt. It’s hard to describe it. All of the kisses you’ve ever had in your life have been Caleb’s, but this one really is different.

An unfamiliar desperation fills it despite being a gentle press of lips. He pulls away and you miss him. Try to chase it as he speaks against your mouth. 

“Open your mouth, baby. Breathe through your nose,” 

You listen to your older brother obediently, mouth parting as he leans in to kiss you again. Soft at first before pulling you down deeper into him by your. A moan escapes you subconsciously and you feel Caleb shiver. Eyes closed, you let him guide you through it. He controls the depth, the pace. You kiss deeply like that, holding each other before he pulls away again. 

Every time you part, you feel a strange pang of sadness. Caleb never leaves you like that for too long 

Your mind is hazy with desire as you fall into a pace with him. He breathes hard each time he pulls away from you, seems overwhelmed each time he kisses you again. Switching between deep kisses to chaste one, your lips throb from the overwhelming intensity of it. His mouth perfectly warm, lips soft and full. Wet as the kiss deepens but not unpleasantly. A tingly sensation that makes your skin prick. 

You make a noise of surprise when Caleb slips his tongue against your mouth. But you don’t dislike it. Rather, out of curiosity, you copy him. 

(A habit of your childhood—to copy your older brother and keep what you like from him as your own. )

Caleb inhales when you mirror him. Your eyes flicker open briefly to see his face, pleased by the draw of his eyebrows, before letting them close again. 

There’s nothing intimidating about kissing Caleb. Every fear you harbor about how you should do it is washed away by the sheer force of your lust for one another. Like a gap of communication has finally been bridged—with your soft tongues sliding against each other, brushing against his palate, open mouth panting, subconsciously rocking your hips. Each second of doubt is brushed away by the overwhelming feeling of mutual, lovesick desire. It flows through your veins with more naturality than even your blood. Nothing more righteous, more sure. 

You kiss like you’re telling him every secret you’ve ever kept—lips incapable of anything but honest confession. Holding onto each other in desperate, desperate necessity. A lifeline. A lifetime of holding it in, unraveling like the seconds couldn’t pass quickly enough to answer for it. 

It feels like the beginning of devouring. You’ve never felt so hungry for something in your life. It gnaws at your conscious thoughts. 

Desire simmers as you subconsciously settle your weight on Caleb’s lap, rocking your hips against the pleasant hardness meeting it. Not entirely sure of what it is your even touching. Caleb moans softly each time you do. 

“Fuck,” Caleb pulls away finally. You whine and he laughs at you. Kisses you again, just once. “Shh, baby.” 

“Nn, you don’t wanna kiss?” Your words come out slurred, even to your own ears. 

“Not that I don’t want to, but you’re—” His laugh comes out higher, breathier. “Doing a little more than kissing,” 

“Mm?”

He looks up at you. Amusement mixed with arousal. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” 

“Feels good,” 

“You’re this weak to a little pleasure,” Caleb says. His hands are hot as they squeeze your hips. “Can’t you feel what you’re sitting on?” 

The question sobers you. Caleb hold you steady to stop you before changing the pace. Uses his strength to hold your hips down as he grinds you over the full length of his…

“Oh,” You’re startled. You’re grinding against—

“You’ve been grinding against my dick like that without thinking about it at all. Isn’t that dangerous?” 

A shiver wracks through you. Caleb’s voice is husky, low when he says. It’s crass and to the point—something you could never imagine hearing him say. But now that you have heard it, it makes it feel like your whole body is melting. Sticky arousal climbs through your limbs, leaves your mind muddled as you moan. Shivering, you fall forward in his arms. He closes them around your back, grinding his hard-on against your clothed cunt. The way it catches on your clit so indirectly feels so good you could cum from it. 

His lips find your face, your jaw. His kisses affectionate. “Feels good, huh?” 

“Mmm,” You press your face to his neck. “Caleb,” 

“Do you want to cum like this? Or do you want me to make you feel even better?”

“Better?” 

“Yeah,” Caleb says, a promise. “Better. Promise. Do you want that?” 

You nod. “I want it,” 

“Gonna lay you on your back, okay?” 

You make an affirmative noise as Caleb flips you on your spine with ease. Surprised by his strength again, you gasp a little as he turns you over until he’s over you. He kisses you sweetly. 

Your head feels full. Too heavy on your shoulders. You want to put your tongue in his mouth again and you don’t feel all the way there. Caleb looms over you. 

“You’re beautiful,” Caleb says, breathless. Your eyes go wide. “Really fucking beautiful,”’

“That’s…” 

“I think it all the time. Want to say it to you all the time, but I never wanna scare you.” Caleb hums, a hand on your thigh. 

“Why would that scare me?” 

Caleb chuckles like it’s obvious. “You get skittish easily, you know? When I act less like your brother and more like…” 

You finish the sentence for him with a pout. “My boyfriend?” 

He hums like just hearing it feels good, eyes lidded. “Yeah. Like your boyfriend.” 

“Well that’s….” 

“Do I make you nervous?” 

His expression is playful. Makes your stomach flip. Your hand finds the hem of his shirt. 

“So what if you do?”

“It’d make me happy,” 

“You want me to be nervous? How mean,” 

He leans into your space. You kiss again and feel disappointed when it’s over. Were you always so desperate? 

“Don’t put words in my mouth. It just feels good to know you think of me that way, yeah?”

Something about it, about him like this makes your stomach tie in knots. You make a face, head tilted trying to tempt him into doing what you want. Caleb knows without you speaking a word, always does. Dips his head down to appease, lips firm and steady. Soft and full enough to make you melt. Your arms around his neck, a little breathless, mewling at the way it makes it feel like there’s electricity in your skin. 

“You really like kissing, huh,”  Caleb says. He pulls away again. Casts a brief glance your way before he peppers kisses all across your face. Draws his lips down your jawline, hot and wet as he noses against your skin. He finds your pulse and darts his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

You keen. It’s a sudden sound, sensitive. Your body shivers. Caleb makes an affirmative noise and does it again. Scrapes the same spot gently with teeth.

Another pitchy moan escapes your lips. Caleb breathes from his nose like laughter. Places more experimental bites and licks all along your neck. Your voice slips before you can catch it. 

“Harder,” 

He appeases you. Just like always. Feeling his teeth in your neck makes your mouth fall open and you moan his name like a small prayer.

His teeth leaves marks along your neck at your request, hands at your waist to hold you in place as you learn more about your body. You can feel your shorts dampen as he does it. It overwhelms you, makes you tremble with every light breath and every sordid bite. You don’t have any experience, have nothing tangible to compare it to except the things you did alone in your bedroom. 

It doesn’t compare at all, though. No amount of relieving your sexual urges as a desperate teenager or fumbling against a stranger in a club even kind of helps your mind make sense of it. Caleb kissing and biting down your neck, his hands touching your skin—it’s the first time in your life you’ve ever felt it. First time you’ve known touch like this. 

First time your mind has been rendered so useless to think. 

He rests his mouth as his hands slide up your sides. You gasp slightly as they go underneath your shirt  but you don’t make any move to stop it. Further and further they go until the reach for your back. Searching for something.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” He whispers.. 

“I don’t at home,” 

He lets out a breath like the winds have been knocked out of him. “Right,”

“Are you into that?” You ask before you can stop yourself, surprised by the sound of your own voice. Caleb just laughs like he’s in disbelief. 

“Take a guess,” 

“I just don’t get it,” 

Caleb doesn’t say anything to that. But his hands maneuver. Stopped just underneath the swell of your tits, his eyes look up at yours and ask for silent permission. His shoulders sag with relief when he receives it. 

The way your chest fits in Caleb’s hands makes your breath hitch. Squeezing the fat of them, relishing how they feel between his palms. He’s quick after that, pulling your shirt up until it’s gathered underneath your neck. There’s an impatience to it that surprises you, something uncharacteristically lacking composure as he halfway undresses you. 

His eyes linger like that for a long time. So long it makes your face burn. 

“Stop staring,” 

“...I don’t know if I can.” 

There’s something like awe in his gaze. Your spine tingles, goosebumps appearing on his skin. The way his hands hold onto your waist. He presses his cheek just below your sternum with an loving sigh, kissing it as he picks his head back up. It’s sweet to the point it almost nauseates you. It might if it were anyone other than Caleb. 

His thumbs draw over your nipples, hardened from arousal. Your chest rises and falls in anticipation, in ache. Thighs squeezing together in a silent admittance. His touch is experimental, careful in observing what elicits the most reaction out of you. 

Chest tender, takes one of your nipples into his mouth without warning. You gasp, hand covering your mouth as you feel him smile against your chest. 

The air shifts again. Hotter, heavier—there’s a sudden carnality to the way he’s touching you. Mouth latched onto your nipples tenderly, grazing them lightly with the blunt end of his incisors like he can guess everything you like. His mouth on your chest is overwhelming. It baffles you that something can feel that good. Each time you think you can’t be surprised any more, Caleb makes good on making you feel better and you’re forced to eat your words. 

Between your legs is throbbing hard. Whatever Caleb can’t fit in his mouth, he teases with the rough pads of his fingers - brushing and squeezing and twisting. Alternating as to make sure nothing goes neglected. Your hips cant against air, frustrated by lack of friction. Caleb is relentless, but does not make any move to sate your growing desires. 

“Caleb,” 

His eyes are washed over as he looks up. A look on his face you don’t know, have never seen until now. His voice is low in the back of his throat, strong hands cupping your chest and squeezing. 

“‘Mm?” 

A sibling bond like this, you think, is to blame for understanding so quickly what Caleb wants. Something you know innately, deep in your subconscious that makes your cheeks grow hot. A hot, prickly feeling goes down your back and all your clothes suddenly feel restrictive. He sits and remains steadfast, but you can sense it too. 

It feels good but something is missing. Something is off. 

Despite his restless desire, he’s taunting you. Goading you. You groan and Caleb laughs.

“Don’t—Caleb. Please,” 

“Did you want something?” 

Another groan leaves your lips as his smile remains unfaltering. 

“You promised you were gonna make it feel better,” You say, so petulant and childish to your own ears you wince. 

Somewhat predictably, this works on Caleb right away. Overwhelming lust tucked carefully behind a thoughtful smile. “I did, huh?” 

“Don’t be a jerk,” You reply. He laughs but not for long.

He has something flash on his face at your reply. You just kind of know. “Sorry, sorry,” 

“Stop holding back.”

He looks surprised. “I’m not—” 

You nudge him with your knee. “You are. You think I don’t know you? Didn’t you say you wanted me to see you differently? Stop acting like a cool older brother. It’s annoying,” 

His expression is one of awe and amusement. It’s not quite that he’s irritated, but you can sense that you just barely get under his skin with the implication. 

 “Weren’t you the one who was crying about not wanting anything to change? Now you’re chiding me? You were acting so spoiled just a minute ago to get your way and now you’re saying you don’t want me acting like your big brother, hm?” 

Your eyes widen at the change in character. It still feels like Caleb, but it’s so intense. Too sincere to be completely playful. A strange mix of lust, nerves and fear wash over you. “Just—” 

He pushes himself back up to hover over you, swift as a hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze up. Pure arousal shoots through your veins, almost unwittingly, as you catch sight of Caleb’s gaze. An vengeful quality to it. 

“Meimei,” He says, and your breath hitches. Your head is clouded with the immoral lust of hearing it this way. “Your older brother didn’t teach you how to lie, right? If you want something, say it with your mouth. Say it clearly,” 

A flush crawls onto your face, eyes darting away. Caleb allows you this much mercy. To let you look away feels kind. 

It’s an uncomfortable sort of feeling. To acknowledge what desire, what reaction you’re seeking. It’s unfair, and childish - since Caleb has done nothing but love you from the very moment you met him. Kind, gentle, considerate—you love him so deeply that it hurts to breathe just thinking about all you’ve experienced. 

Something about what you’re asking of him is ugly. Born of selfishness, the desire to have all of him, too. 

“Ugh, just—stop saying you want me and show me,” You say, full of distress. 

You see it in his eyes when something clicks. 

And then, with a sudden force, he kisses you. It’s rougher than the ones previous, deeper, greedier. What you want. You moan into his mouth as Caleb licks at your lips, pulling away to kiss your cheek. Sweet as always. 

“Don’t regret it,” 

The change is immediate. In a way, he’s still just answering to your desires - but you don’t dislike this part of him. Your heart rate kicks up as Caleb strips you of your shirt completely before settling himself back down to where he started.

From just beneath your breasts, all the way down the place of your belly and navel - Caleb places hot, wet kisses to your skin. No longer languid but hurried, long fingers curling into the very edge of your waistband as he drops down further and further before settling between your thighs. He glances up at you when he begins to pull down your shorts but doesn’t ask you for permission and it makes you feel a strange thrill when he doesn’t. 

Caleb tugs your shorts off and helps you wriggle out of them in one go - an audible groan escaping his mouth. Plain, tattered cotton panties hug your hips as you lay with your legs up. He nudges your thighs open as you place your feet flat on the bed. With your legs spread, your clothed cunt is readily visible.

He lets out a soft breath. When you look down, your eyes meeting—there’s something almost animalistic to him. A completely and utterly ruined expression, blush dusting across his nose and cheekbones. 

“I want to make you feel as good as you can, okay?” Caleb says breathlessly. 

He brings his mouth to your inner thigh, closer to your knee and places a sweet kiss on the skin. Both of his hands are gripping hard onto your hips, as he breathes in the scent over and over. It sets your body alight to see it in glimpses. His brow is furrowed as he sucks and bites sloppy hickies into the soft fat of your thighs - working his way up slowly. When he finds you properly marked on one leg, he repeats it on the other. 

You can feel the ache of fresh bruises. A sensation that coaxes a completely new wave of arousal straight from the deepest depths of your body. An impossible wetness soaking the paper-thin cotton, sliding down the curve of your ass from how keyed up the touch makes you. 

It’s less that he’s satisfied in his markings with you, more that his desire for you grows too heavy. Caleb stares at your pussy with eyes of pure, unmistakable reverence.

You have never been able to picture another human being looking at you the way he does. 

So much ardor. So much bone-deep, blood-red voracity in a single gaze. The shakiness of his breathing, the harsh grip of his hands, that unsteady look in his eyes as his nose and mouth hover over the soaked panties over your pussy. As if you can see the words repeating in his mind: want, want, want. Nothing more certain. 

Your whole body wracks with a shiver. You whimper with your hands fisted at your sides in anticipation. 

A startled gasp escapes you as Caleb doesn’t do anything but press his nose firm to your pussy and breathe. Deep and unrepentant like he’s trying to memorize the scent of you, use it to track you like a bloodhound. Embarrassed warmth floods your system and you squirm in protest of his actions. 

But you’re trapped there. Completely and utterly, rendered helpless by his gri. His eyes flicker up unfocused but quickly go back to being closed. It’s all the communication you need to know he intends to do exactly as you’ve begged him to do. To expose the extent of his unsavory appetite. Inhaling the scent of sweat and skin, of a day of lounging and leaving your pussy completely confined.

He looks so madly-in-love in the moment you find it hard to breathe even a word of protest. Your clit throbs unhelpfully in response. 

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Caleb finally, finally drags his tongue over the seam of your panties. He doesn’t pull them off—instead sucking the wetness from the material. Puffy clit helplessly pulled into the force of it while trapped under your panties, you buck your hip up against his tongue. Caleb obliges you. He points the tip of his tongue and slides it over the small bud through the cotton - completely stiffened from arousal. You shake at the touch, the wet promise of pleasure. How the drenched fabric of your panties gives the most gratifying, mind-numbing friction. You moan loud. You can’t help the sound that leaves you when he licks your pussy. 

You’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt this way, but you’re under the impression that most people will never know a pleasure like this in their life. 

When your underwear is completely saturated with spit - only then does Caleb let off from you. Without a single word of warning, he tugs away the material. Exposing your pussy, bare and throbbing - he blows warm air onto your clit and watches as you squirm. 

Another beat of admiring before his mouth latches onto your pussy again. Panties tugged away haphazardly, his tongue sliding from wet hole all through the seam, the soft folds of your pussy - settling at your clit. He licks experimentally, wading through your moans. When his tongue tastes your clit just the right way, you practically scream. 

With newfound dedication, he commits to worshipping your pussy with his mouth. 

It’s humiliating. Purely euphoric and undeniably stimulating, boneless as Caleb’s tongue laps desperately at your clit. His eyes shut, completely blissful - brows furrowed and moaning into you. He eats you out like it’s what he’s wanted to do his entire life and this is the last opportunity he’ll have to make good on his dreams. 

The corrupted thought lights fire under your body anew. To think of Caleb lusting for you when he shouldn’t be. Like a forbidden fruit, ripe and sweet and nearly his—nearly within his grasp but always just barely slipping between his fingers. Your kind, sweet, considerate older brother thinking of ruining your mind and body. The idea he’d been torturing himself over it makes you sad but more than that it incites impossible longing. You want him to want you even more than he does now. 

You can feel your body ache for it for the first time. Like a reply to his feelings, you think of how good it will feel when Caleb finally fucks you. Takes you, plucks you from vine  and claims you all for himself. 

But the act of him tasting you like this is more than good. The tender bundle of nerves is throbbing hard against the wet flick of his tongue - hips rutting to meet the perfect motion of his mouth. Something in your belly warms. Sweetens your senses and melts you from the inside like crystalized honey coming to liquid sugar over a flame. Your mind has melted away so utterly you can’t do anything but reach your fingers through his hair and chant his name. 

“Caleb,” Your voice is unfamiliar to you. Worked up beyond any rational understanding.. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.” 

Closer and closer, Caleb remains completely persistent in his efforts. Licks your clit and laps up all the arousal that spills - silky fluid like ambrosia to the unending heat of his mouth.

The knot tangled inside of your body unravels with an alarming speed. Makes your eyes go wide before you shut them again hard, your spine arching off the bed - every muscle in your body going unbearably tense as Caleb’s tongue toys with your clit. The filthy sound of licking making your ears ring. 

Your body goes taut. It feels like a calamity. A pure rapture, like God himself is bringing pleasure. The kind that can only be derived from being your maker. Caleb has that in common with him, you think. 

Your voice rings loud, hands fisted in his hair. You’re cumming hard, and fast, and there’s white behind your eye-lids. Smatterings of bright stars as you press them shut. 

You cum so hard you can’t breathe. For a brief moment you’re weightless before it all comes crashing down in one swift go. Caleb eats you out through it relentlessly and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name - asking for mercy and receiving none. It feels so good it terrifies you. Your body is trembling, cunt spasming around his tongue as Caleb continues his assault. 

You feel something wet rush out of you but Caleb is undeterred. He drinks it all down, every last drop until he’s satiated at least some of his endless, terrifying thirst. 

When he pulls away from your pussy, his mouth is soaked in saliva and your cum. He looked the most satisfied you’ve ever seen him in your life. You’ve never been so scared of someone while being so unbearably aroused in the same breath. 

“You taste so fucking good. Better than I dreamed in my entire life. Need to taste it again. I almost don’t want to do anything else.” He laughs breathlessly. “Almost.”

“Caleb,” You whimper. completely helpless as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck, ‘m still cumming,” 

“Gonna make you cum over and over and over.” Caleb says cheery. “Promise,” 

After cumming the first time, your body's sensitivity increases tenfold. Where you think it’ll cool off the glaring heat, melting you down to your core - all it does is turn it higher, make the feeling more tangible. Caleb’s offer to make you cum again excites you more than it scares you. You stare at him when he comes up for air.

“Kiss?” 

“Even after all that?” 

You nod sheepishly. 

“Jeez. How cute can someone be?” 

He comes up for a kiss, surprised when you lick into his mouth. You like tasting yourself on him, tongue dipping in for more. Caleb smiles at your enthusiasm, eyes lidded when he pulls away. 

“Open your mouth,” 

You give him a blank stare but do as he says. He puts a hand on your throat, tipping your head back before you feel something warm hit your tongue. Your eyes meet Caleb’s in surprise, instinctively swallowing the spit as it slides down your throat. Caleb meets you with an eager kiss, a gentle affection in his voice. “Good girl.” 

Something washes over you hearing the praise. A soft moan into his mouth that leaves Caleb with raised brows. “You like hearin’ you’re my good girl, huh?” 

Your face feels hot. “...Maybe,” 

“Still so bad at lying, pipsqueak. Some things never change,” 

The affection in his voice makes you forgive him. You know the tone, the sound—the lilting coo of your older brother's voice when he’s teasing you. It’s a way of speaking you could recognize in a heartbeat, the kind of voice that you’re anxious without. It shouldn’t soothe you in this context, shouldn’t make your pussy feel so achy when you know exactly how he’s addressing you. 

Caleb kisses down the length of your body again. Neck to navel until he settles down between your thighs. You can’t mask your surprise. Caleb looks up at you from between your legs. 

“What? You thought one time would be enough for me?” 

Truthfully, yes. You’re a little startled at the thought he’s going to do it again. Make you feel all of that again. An anticipatory shiver makes you squirm but Caleb holds you in place. He presses another kiss to your clit. “One time doesn’t even come close to being enough.” 

True to his word, Caleb starts the process all over again. 

The second time around, he doesn’t let himself up to breathe. You’re locked in place as his increased familiarity with your body has him driving you over the edge even faster. Firm grip on your thighs, face buried between your legs - he laps at your clit for what feels like an endless amount of time. The pleasant warmth of his mouth paired with the focused, precise licks on your sweet spot make your body wrack with an impossible pleasure. It’s gentle enough to not be completely overstimluating - but his endurance, his persistence in doing it makes your experience a new high. A trembling mess of limbs and quiet, desperate pleas. Too much, too fast - toes curled as he hoists your legs over his shoulders to give him full access. Clit pulsating, stiff under his tongue with his nose bumping occasionally. 

It feels so good you’re almost content to let him stay there. Let your mind wash away and succumb to the gluttony tying you to the bed. You cum twice again from the pressure - your body experiencing each one longer. Unable to withstand it, your hands clenched tight trying to level yourself with the feeling. A pleasure you’ve never experienced, the kind you doubt you’d be able to feel with someone else. 

Caleb has always been like this in that respect. Your older brother who set the standard for every other man you ever came across. You were always using him as the gold standard, comparing every man you’ve ever met to him. Especially ones who claimed to like you. What would your brother do, how would he act, how would he treat you. He’d never tell you if you were too much. Never call you spoiled even when you act it, embody it so why settle for less? Why want for something else? For someone else?

It’s not surprising that Caleb touches you with the same level of care he’s always given you. Even less surprising that your body longs for it so desperately. 

Caleb is your big brother after all. He takes care of you like this. No one else gets to have it. It makes you entitled, moody, and emotional just to think of him acting this way with someone who isn’t you. 

Yearning and deep affection well up inside of you as these things cross your mind. Whisper to your longing as a deep, endless need overwhelms your mind. Your third orgasm steals the breath out of your lungs. A shockwave of emotions washes over you, as you tug at his hair. You let out a throaty whine. 

“Caleb,” You whimper, pulling him off. “Caleb,” 

Attuned to your emotions, Caleb is quick to pull away when he hears the audible distress. He pulls away from you, worried. “Shhh, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. Did you want to stop?”

You shake your head rapidly. Caleb gives you a small smile. “Just being a crybaby, then?” 

The truth is, yes, just a little. You can’t voice this to Caleb so you instead give him some unknowable, unreadable look. He reads it almost instantly, shifting himself to hug you tight. Without any words at all, like he knows every single thought that passes through your mind. You wrap your arms around him and nudge your nose against his neck. He smells familiar. 

“This what you wanted?” 

You nod against him. Caleb’s heartbeat is steady in a way that brings you bone deep comfort. 

“Be more pampered with me. More selfish, more demanding, more spoiled. Gege will do anything for you, so don’t hesitate.” 

Hearing him refer to himself that  way makes your stomach flip. You nuzzle yourself deeper into him, aroused by the sound of his laughter - playful but smug. You speak against his chest, words muffled. 

“Want it inside right now,” 

His breath hitches immediately. “Yeah?” 

Another nod. You pull away to look him in the eyes when you ask. You know how to beg Caleb for something. You’ve been doing it your whole life, and right now is the most sincere you’ve ever been. Doe-eyed and full lips, all covetous and coy the word falls from your mouth with ease. 

“Please,” 

It has the exact impact on him you want it to have. Groaning, the outline of his cock twitching with a shameful lust, almost blanking out at the thought. He scrubs a hand over his face. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” 

“Please,” You repeat. Caleb kisses you as if to stop you from saying it again. 

“I have to stretch you out on my fingers. It’ll hurt otherwise,” You open your mouth but Caleb cuts you off. “Don’t say it’s fine.” 

“Caleb,” You whine and he laughs sympathetically. 

“Be a good girl,” He placates, and it works on you just as maddeningly as your begging does on him. “Hm? For me?” 

You melt. How embarrassing.”...Fine,” 

He coos at you lovingly and you make no effort to deflect. You can’t. Your usual fire and wit, your banter is dissipated. Brain thoroughly undone from so many orgasms and the deep, aching want in your cunt - so apparent it makes you want to sob. A desperation to be full that you didn’t fathom existing in such a bodily way, something you thought only existed in porn. 

Sensing how strung out you are, Caleb changes positions again. Instead of laying between your legs, he curls up besides you. He turns on his side, sliding an arm underneath and hugs your body close to him. Like he’s cradling you. Your legs slot together, one of yours between both of his - your other leg on the outside. Caleb hikes your thigh up - high enough to have your legs spread. The arm not supporting your back is supporting you, his forearm underneath your thigh.

At this angle, you’re face to face. Caleb can see you clearly as he cradles you in his arms. A large hand squeezes your ass before reaching around - teasing your clit with long fingers.

You feel…small like this. It’s the way you’re being held. The feeling of Caleb’s arm under your back, sliding up to hold your neck. 

His fingers are exceptionally long. Slender and thin, with thick veins from wrist to pinky, more appearing less visibly to the rest. His palms are big- making up the bulk of their size. You feel yourself fixating on them in their movements. 

On the calluses on them from handling guns, to the few thin scars from your childhood that have remained on his body into adulthood - now scarred. The way his fingers caress you, stroke your clit slowly. He kisses you again with a silent question like: you like this, right?

The eagerness of your tongue into his mouth answers it for him, a puppy keen on greeting it’s owner. Caleb laughs sweet into your mouth, encouraging you with all the kindness he has in him. His fingers slides through your slick folds impressed until he reaches low enough to be at your hole. 

You’ve put your own fingers in there before. You think you can handle someone elses. 

You find out fast that you can’t. 

Caleb’s fingers are long. They’re thicker than yours, and longer than yours - and just the first one gives you a stretch you're not expecting. You shudder, a noisy breath. It’s an intrusion, a noticeable one. Caleb is careful, though. It’s easy for him to push the digit it when you’re so wet inside. A soft squelching noise makes your skin burn hot but Caleb goes on undisturbed. 

His finger reaches deep. He fucks it in so slowly and so carefully but it feels like it never ends. All the down to the knuckle with just the one, you find yourself shuddering. Caleb is quiet, but you can hear the labor in his breaths. Feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh and twitch. 

You moan his name instinctually - not for any particular reason and he says nothing. Just thrusts his finger in and out. How can something feel so different on the basis it’s someone else? You can’t hold still, rocking your hips against the sensation. Caleb groans unabashed. 

“You want it so bad, huh?” He says, half-delirious and so pleasantly smug. You nod  immediately. 

“A little more. Hang in there, okay?” 

Okay, you think. You’d do whatever it takes in the moment for Caleb to fuck you more quickly so you bite in the side of your cheek and try not beg stupidly each time he repeats the process. Another finger, longer than the last - stretching out, reaching deeper than anything has ever gone in your life, thrusting until your pussy takes it. It surprises you to know just how much you can take when you take three and you really feel  it. How soft it is inside.

“Enough,” You whisper hoarsely. 

Caleb doesn’t heed your request. Another finger goes in. It takes four for him to finally feel like it’s enough. Four fingers stroking from the inside out, an almost brutal precision curling against your g-spot. Not enough to cum, just enough to get so wet he can’t pull his fingers out without the filthiest noise you’ve ever had to follow it.

Completely out of your mind, you grab onto him weakly. Every ounce of shame and sense gone. 

“Caleb,” Your voice is a pant. “Fuck me. Please, please—just do it,” 

His own voice is no better than yours. “Gotta grab a condom from my—” 

Your voice is vicious. Like you’re lashing out at him. “No. Fuck me.” 

Caleb is quieted by it. Unsure of how to react. “Don’t be like that, baby.” 

A reprimand. Soft as ever. Tears well up in your eyes immediately. “Please hurry,” 

“We have to use a condom next time, okay?” 

You hear nothing that comes out of his mouth except the words next time, and nod. 

He gives in. You’re thankful he always does. You’re at your wits end and you don’t know if your body can handle any more waiting. Not getting what you want with Caleb unsettles and upsets you. Especially this strung out. 

Caleb rolls onto your back again after he pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, unwittingly falling onto your back with both legs open. Presenting yourself in some impossibly obedient way that you can’t catch quick enough to stop, knees bent and up in the air. Waiting impatiently for Caleb to follow. 

He follows suit moments later. His hand resting on your knees to spread your legs for him, taking in an eyeful of you as he stands on his own. 

At the angle you’re laying and with nothing to distract your senses - you can see Caleb in full shape. Your body responds in kind for you, throbbing between your legs as you cut his figure. Tall and strong and broad, visible muscles and deltas. There are veins above the lowcut of his waistband, thick and tempting. A little lower than that - a patch of dark hair that leads to…

Your throat feels dry seeing Caleb’s cock standing to attention, just underneath his sweatpants. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to make sense of it. How it strains, a wet patch where it ends. Your breathing slows significantly. Your mouth watering, mind fizzling like a bottle of champagne. The ache in you urges deeper, hand going between your legs to soothe it. Or maybe welcome what's coming. 

Caleb is breathless. Amusement undercut by lasciviousness. “Enjoying the view?” 

You nod stupidly. Caleb grins a little. Makes a show of hooking his thumb into the top of his sweats and tugging all the way down. A thick trail of hair and the smooth, uncut outline of his cock has you gasping. When he tugs his pants all the way pas his thigh, you feel completely speechless. 

He’s huge. Utterly. Too heavy to stand on its own, uncut, veiny. You blink in disbelief, like everything in the room has paused. It’s burly. Ridiculous. Thick enough to look like someone’s forearm. Pearls of pre-cum dribble of out of the tip, pulled back to be revealed. A ruddy reddish brown and angry. It’s darker then the rest, throbbing in a way that looks almost painful. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but that was on accident in a bath before it was—

You stop your train of thought and just stare for an unknown amount of time.

He looks sheepish. The tips of his ears crimson red, all the way down to his chest. You make an unintelligible noise at the sudden change in attitude and also at everything else. 

A sensible person would feel fear. Not your strong suit. You don’t know if it’s bravery or lust that inspires the reaction in your body. You just know you want him to fuck you so bad you might jump  on him to get it. 

“We don’t have to get in today, princess. We’ve got time to—” 

“If you try to deter me one more time I’m going to run away from home,” 

Caleb closes his mouth. He just mumbles something, but obliges you right after. 

In what can only be considered a miracle, Caleb finally settles between your legs. His hands are on top of your thighs as he taps his tip against your clit, rubbing the pre-cum into the mess, The feeling of skin on skin elicits a gasp out of you both. His voice is shaky. 

“Might not last,” He says hoarsely

“S’fine.” You put a hand between your legs and spread your pussy open for him a little wider. A move from porn that works on him instantly. He swears hard under his breath, not giving himself a chance to indulge in the feeling long. 

Tip nudging through slick folds—Caleb finally, finally slides in. 

Another synchronised moan, sweat breaks out onto your skin as you feel the thick tip of Caleb’s cock finally come through. You feel full. It’s completely different from four fingers, more invasive on your body than ever. . 

It elicits a chain reaction. You watch Caleb above you, death grip on your hips trying to keep his composure and not fuck a hole through you. A horrible part of you almost wants him too, even knowing you absolutely wouldn’t be able to take it. 

You’re trembling. It feels ridiculous but you’re so worked up that - 

“Gonna c-cum,” 

Caleb’s eyes blow wide. “From—fuck. That ain’t fair, you can’t,” 

You buck your hips up and groan. He’s stretching you out so fucking good. One more time and it’ll hit that spot and it’ll feel so perfect, so right. You need it. Caleb shakes over you. 

“Mercy,” He says, not sober enough to laugh. You’re going to lose your mind soon. Maybe you already have. 

“I-s it all in?” 

“Half,” Caleb grunts. You moan at the thought. 

“Fuck me. Shit, please,” Your voice breaks high on the last syllable. Caleb looks like he wants to protest, wants to tell you to take it slow. But you can see it in his face that he’s reached his limits. Or maybe he reached them a long time ago and he’s already far gone. 

But he listens. Your jaw goes slack and he pushes in. Inch by tortuous inch until you feel him bottom out. Feel his hips on the back of your thighs. His cock is throbbing inside of you, silken walls clinging onto the shape like you’re being pried open. It doesn’t take anything. He shifts as he bottoms out and your voice comes out in garbled, unintelligible noise. 

“O-oh, ‘m cumming, cumming, ngh,”  Your back arches up that leaves your mind blank. Completely white out, nothing but static as you cum again. Cum around the hard, intrusive length of your older brothers cock - bullying into your cervix until it’s wet and pliable and fuckable for him. Stretching out like it’s his to shape and mould. You can feel it in your body, each vein and each curve. Caleb lets out a whistle. Sharp and so fucking dark, it exicites you helplessly. 

“She’s clingy just like you,” He says, fond but sneering. 

Your head spins when it dawns on you on what he’s saying. 

“Caleb—” 

“I feel conflicted. Are you naturally this gifted?” He laughs, folding over you. Overtaken by something. Bending you under his weight. “Or is it because it’s mine that you’re making it so easy?” 

“I was worried, you know,” He pulls out. The disappointment and gaping emptiness are brief. You hear the way your body refuses him pulling out. “Worried about how such a tight hole would fit something so big. Worried about your body, but you’re taking me in so fucking well. So perfect,” 

You’re panting. It feels so good. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, limp under the weight of it as Caleb gives you a slow few thrusts to get you used to the size. But you’re so stretched and sensitive it just feels fucking incredible from the jump. 

“Be a good girl and let me in.” You clench down on him. He grins to himself. “That’s it,” 

He bottoms out again. Slams hips and fucks you in one swift, unforgiving motion. Groaning, he puts his hands up under your knees, driving his dick into you with animalistic need. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good. Too good. I’m never gonna be able to think about anything else. It’s not like I was before but you’re-” Out, back in. You haven’t made a single coherent sound. “You’re just too good. It’s warm and wet and still so tight, how are you still so tight, huh? It’s like you don’t want me to leave.” 

For a brief moment, the two of you make eye contact. The vivid color of his eyes burns bright, pins you underneath the weight of his gaze. It goes straight to your stomach, making it flip in one smooth go. 

“Tell me it’s okay,”  Caleb says, barely restraining himself. 

You look up at him confused. He suddenly looks like he’s at his wits end. 

“Tell me it’s okay to fuck you hard,” 

Like a woman possessed, you reach your arms around to squeeze his back and biceps. You put your mouth close to his ear as you bring him down towards you. 

“Gege,” He twitches inside of you. “Fuck me as hard as you can,” 

You underestimate just what effect it’ll have on you. On him. As quick as he possibly can, he pushes his hands under your knees and folds you into a mating press so deep it makes you scream. He’s pistoning you instantly, pounding into your pussy like he owns. Your nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders without realizing. 

“I love you,” are the only words that come out of his mouth. It has you clenching down even harder. “Gege loves you more than anyone else in the world, okay? More than anyone.” 

Just like that, Caleb fucks you. Given up on being gentle but still trying to make you feel good, trying to touch somewhere no one ever will again - he folds you up under the weight of his body and fucks you with relentless stamina. Your mind is gone. His cock is fat and heavy inside of you, splits your pussy open as the tip knocks against your g-spot with each thrust. His balls smack against your ass on each go. 

It’s too much. For your brain, for your body, for your insides - getting permanently rearranged like he’s crushing your womb. A feeling like it should be painful, but it isn’t because he’s got you so good and open. This a reward for you both. For his patience. Every thought wrung from your head, impressed by your body’s own avarice for cock. Addicted to the feeling of getting strethed, gaped completely open. It feels like you’re cumming without a clear end. 

Wanting Caleb to cum inside of you is a distant thought. Pleasant like a lullaby as your body yearns for it. Another sharp orgasm builds. It builds and builds and builds - and you know’re going to be fucked through it again. 

But this time Caleb is close. Right alongside you. Sweating and panting in your ear as he pounds into your frenzied. 

His voice comes out like a whine and it turns you on even more. You say it before he can think of pulling out, tightening your legs around his waist. 

“Cum in me,” 

Caleb grinds himself deeper. “Gonna cum in you, baby. I love you, I love you—fuck!” 

Pure euphoria floods your entire nervous system as Caleb bottoms out one last time. His cum fills your pussy in thick, long spurts. It feels hot as it takes, makes you shiver with how it feels. Disappointed at the idea it’ll flood back out. 

Caleb, still balls deep - continues suddenly. Where you think he’s gonna pull out, he doesn’t. Instead he fucks you again, this time more clear-headed as he rubs your clit - a hand between your bodies. His voice is shot. 

“Sorry. Don’t wanna be selfish. One more nice and easy, then we’ll clean up?” 

You have no room to protest. After all, Caleb is nothing but relentless when  it comes to spoiling you. You let him fuck another orgasm out of you until you’ve got nothing left to give. 

He collapses on top of you after your pussy milks what's left of him

You kiss when he does, sweaty and tired. You look at his blissed out face and kiss his nose with affection. 

“I love you too, Gege.” 

He pauses then laughs. Brightly. Hopelessly. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” 

__ 

You aren’t sure when exactly you pass out. 

You remember lingering with Caleb in his bed before limping into the bathroom. And a bath too, if your memory serves you right. You must’ve fallen asleep in the tub with Caleb, the broad warmth of his chest lulling you right to sleep. You’ve got good endurance from being a hunter, but you’re tuckered out just thinking about earlier. 

Also a little embarrassed. 

You wake on the couch of the living room. Cleaned, changed, and tucked into with a blanket over you. There’s a scent and the quiet sizzle of a pan. Your limbs feel heavy as you pick your head up. It’s still dark out but it seems like morning. 

You rub your eyes as you swing your legs over and place them on the floor.

Standing to your feet, you find slippers at the end of the couch and feel your heart swell ten sizes. You put them on before padding into the kitchen. 

Caleb is at the stove like you thought he’d be. You flush seeing his back covered in scratches and a bite or two - none you remember leaving. You know your body is in the same state if not worse.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his broad back. Your voice is small, embarrassed. Everything feels brand-new. 

“G’morning,” 

Caleb turns the heat down and puts the spatula on the counter top, turning to face you. He looks down at you with a boyish grin. Unfairly handsome, making you pout. 

“Morning, sleepyhead. Feel okay?” 

You tuck your face into his chest and nod. “Just a little tired. I don’t hurt or anything.” 

“That’s good, then,” 

You make a little mm sound and stay there for a while. Caleb is content to hug you until you pull away. 

“Caleb?” 

“Hm?” 

Your face feels warm. “...Kiss?” 

He stops, then beams. Dips his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that feels romantic and practiced, but doesn’t make you feel strange in a bad way. You’ve never had a boyfriend, not a real one. Does everyone feel butterflies like this? 

Maybe there’s something wrong with you. He pulls away and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re less moody than you usually are when you wake up,” Caleb teases. “Good to know. An effective way to deal with your attitude is always welcome.” 

You frown at him, feeling furious for more reason than embarrassment. It’s really unfair how flirtatious he is. “Shut up,” 

Subconsciously, your hands are fisted as you cling to Caleb’s chest. With no shirt to hold onto you, your muscle memory finds it the most steady. They’re clenched hard from embarrassment and a flood of other feelings you need soothed. 

Caleb grabs your hand and unfurls them for you. Strong, warm, big hands grasp yours in their palm and open them both softly - fingers interlocking until you’re no longer so tense. Just melted away. 

“I’m right here,” He says. A wave of emotions passes over you. 

You hold his hand and squeeze it. Once, twice - it has a steadiness the grip of fabric doesn’t. 

You smile to yourself. Helplessly happy. Overwhelmed with pure, unrelenting love. 

“Yeah,” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. “You are,” 

[mojaves]

😭🍧🌋🕷🙈🙉🔪🎵 for caleb >:33 also HAIII i hope you're havign a great day!!!! <33

HIIII THANK YOUUU!!! HOPE YOURE HAVING A GREAT DAY TOO :D

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

he does Not. he needs to though. Badly. it would fix him,,, he isn't necessarily emotionally constipated but my god. dude. PLEASE talk about your feelings. just once. Please. that being said though the one thing that would absolutely break him + make him cry for the first time in YEARS is seeing someone he cares about deeply get hurt in one way or another. he Will be insane and he Will be inconsolable about it.

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

he still has some paints and paintbrushes that his granpda got for him,, he doesnt use them anymore bc theyre no longer available,, and he does NOT!!! want to throw them away. ever. they remind him so much of all the time he spent w his grandpa going on fun little roadtrips as a kid so they could draw together. if he lost those?? well honestly him wanting to just throw himself off a bridge wouldnt even be an exaggeration. that would be the END for him. he CANNOT!!! lose them. it's all he has left to remember his grandpa by.

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

oooghhfjh now this is a good one bc it entirely depends on who he is with. 0 tolerance policy for anyone he used to work with at kang tago/biotechnica. if you pissed him off even a little bit youre going to hear about it. immediately. it's not even that he's losing his shit or anything or even an especially explosive temper. he just wants to shut you down then and there. and then never have to deal with it ever again. doesnt raise his voice or anything, just very calmly explains to you everything you are doing that is making him want to kill you with his own two hands. he sounds so relaxed but you can see how angry he is in his eyes. which i am Obsessed with. honestly. if he starts walking closer to you while being like that. start running/ [important sidenote he would never be like that w anyone he is close to. btw. he CAN explain things that are bothering him. like a normal person]

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

HMMM,, bc of his job most fears wouldve been ripped away from him at this point bc of how dangerous many missions were, and he wouldnt have gotten Anywhere if he was a shivering little beast the whole time. HOWEVER!! he has never fully gotten over his fear of heights. like he can be normal about it i guess?? but oohh trying to hide how terrified he is is SO exhausting he'd rather die. also very VERY scared of losing everyone he loves and has ever loved. but thats nothing to worry about at all ever. of course. [he needs therapy]

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

that he is actually very vulnerable and soft and mostly just. Sad. but he doesnt want people thinking he's weak,, he just wants someone to hold him. he wants to be shown love again. even if it's just for a moment. but he never lets anyone get close enough to be able to see that, in case they end up using it against him. he has So many barriers up but theyre So flimsy. they can be broken down so easily. but no one has ever tried,, Yet.

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

honestly theyre is not much that can be said to him that will cause enough emotional damage to break him, other than like, hearing someone he was close to got injured/died. he's heard it all countless times over the years. but if i HAD to think of something,, probably someone calling him a coward. that would change something in his brain for the rest of forever, to the point where he will be hellbent on trying to prove that he is NOT!!!!!! a coward. life is so difficult. his job is terrifying. he doesnt know when a job is going to end in him getting killed, or worse. and to call him a coward would be overlooking all of that, all of the effort that it took for him to get where he is now. and he would HATE it. so much.

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

luckily enough he knows not to blame himself for things that are entirely out of his control - i.e. someone getting injured on a job when he's not there. obviously it's not his fault, he wasnt there to change anything. people get injured sometimes. it's just a part of life. he's not going to waste time carrying the weight of it all on his shoulders, he's gonna shut up and HELP. patch them up. do some stitches if necessary. get an ice pack. his brain kind of disconnects a bit, ESPECIALLY if it's a loved one, bc otherwise he would not get anything done. he would be too busy shaking and crying. he Has to get all the important stuff done first [stopping bleeding, cleaning them up, whatever], and THEN!! he can have an insane screaming crying throwing up moment. bc they are always the priority, not him. he needs to focus on their needs before he can focus on himself.

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

now this is going to take so long. so many weeks or months even to answer bc i do not yet have a playlist for him WJHJHDSFFGS but trust me. trust me when i say the Second i have some sort of playlist going for him. im going to be SO annoying about it. even more so w the kind of music i think he'd listen to. bc that is very important to me and i can never be normal about it.

[bookwormlover10]

First I'll started with Arthur the silver knight

Arthur is a Philips grimwalker so before I explained him I'll need to explain how Philip died in this au and also what leads to his creation. So it started when Caleb and Philip were having their fight, but before he stabbed Caleb he had a realization and froze but it wasn't quick enough cause Caleb stab him in the back ( literally) though the heart. (Note that most of this is by accident. ) But when he dies he was smiling saying he finally saw his Rosie again then dies.( Yes Rosie is in this) then everything froze and a goddess came and cursed Philip bones. ( The goddess is name Tatiana I'll explain her later but she is very important to Rosie lore) Caleb not mentally ok tryed to have a normal life that was until Evelyn was killed by " humans" leaving him to raise their son. This was the start to spiral to madness and started his plan to end humanity. For this au I'm debating to call Caleb emperor Dionysus, cause a big theme with Dionysus is madness. ( Or because he's my favorite Greek god) so you know that human and human things are ilegal. ( I'll probably explain Caleb later)

Now for the mane event. Arthur is called the sliver Knight, he's 25 so hes older then Hunter but become the sliver Knight around the same age as hunter. he has same curses as Philip. Arthur is mostly a chill dude but he takes his job as the sliver Knight very serious but he refuses to harm children. There are even times that he'll help Eda and Luz. Like Philip he is very smart and likes to billd things, he made his sword that has gliphs that terns into a teck staf. He likes rock you see him listening to all kinds of rock when he is tinkering on something. He keeps flapjack and Athena hidden in his room or his secret lab underneath the castle. He has a soft spot for kids, there are times you see him playing with kid in this silver knight armor.( He also humers king)

Growing up Arthur was place in the cere of Lilith, Lilith job was to take care and protect Arthur. ( She was basically his nanny but with extra steps) Lilith was first standoffish ( is that even a word) to the boy she thought it was a waste of her skills, but eventually she grew to love the Arthur like a son. Arthur started to call Lilith mom. They were inseparable, were Lilith went Arthur went with her too. That was until Lilith was purified when Arthur was 9. Arthur turn to full monster for the first time and when on a rampage. You see Arthur eyes weren't always blue it was maroon color like hunter but change when his cares came full control, turning his eyes blue.

His relationship with his uncle is complicated. There were times when he was a kid that his uncle will give him the most loving person ever. Sometimes he'll ignore his existence. Other time he'll give him a look of disappointment or of regrets.

Whale hunter has Darius, Arthur as Alador. I haven't figured out how the meat yet. He and Luz acted like an adult older brother and a kid little sister. Arthur well bet up eneone that break Luz heart. He also gave a loving relationship with flapjack and Athena. He also had a secret lover name Rose ( she just Rosie reincarnated) cause silver knight can't have lover's.

I basically wanted hunter to have a cool older brother that like rock.

-----------------

Here is bonus art if hunter meets Author. Btw I'm calling this au sliver Knight au

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

Yayyy tag game! Thank you @never-ending-fanfic

Rules: List five things you never get tired of writing. It can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Then tag five people.

So in no real order:

1. Arguments! I love making my characters shout and call each other out, writing strong emotions and making them say things they normally wouldn't say.

2. Monologues because dude. Again mostly because you can just make the character go, they can finish their thought, develop their idea, flow through emotions from narcissistic gloating to utter despair and just finally vocalize all the thoughts you had for them as an autor but would be too unnatural in a dialogue.

3. Descriptions, especially of the scenery. The metaphors, the synesthesia, the comparisons... *chef's kiss*

4. More in general and less in the stylistical sense, sophisticated people, because really, you can have so much fun with them, with the way they talk, think, move, everything.

5. And finally - angst!

So I'll invite to this game @lieutenant-amuel @a-lilacsong @calebs-hangout-corner @ograndebatata @trzykwadranse

[jacqcrisis]

A little write up on one of gym bro Caleb’s relationships during the initial part of his... thing with the line cook monster man. Mostly under a read more cause it went from a little to a lot but what's new:

So, after starting his ‘thing’ with the line cook, in a desperate bid to return to normality and regain some of his pride, Caleb starts looking for a steady girlfriend. Now, this is not a difficult task for him by any means: he’s good looking, literally at the gym 5 mornings a week, going into healthcare as a career, complete gentlemen to the ladies, raises 0 red flags on witch tinder (which he doesn't use but, you know... if he did)

The first two women only last about a month just due to incompatibility and wanting different things but he actually manages to get a relationship to continue for about 6 months after these. And, listen, if you're looking for a girl when you're desperately trying to prove how very not into dudes you've realized you are, this is her. Britney is a solid 10/10: active, feminine, does yoga, is at the gym almost as much as Caleb, dyes her hair blonde, driven, fun, down to earth, high sex drive, everything a twenties something college dude could ever want.

And for Britney's part, Caleb's great. He's sweet, clearly cares about people, has an active lifestyle, is extremely attentive, can't lie for shit, they have matching interests and aspirations, etc etc. He's dumber than a box of rocks, a bit vain, and can't cook, but he's on the opposite end of the spectrum of those weird sexist college dudes who think they're God's gift to witchkind and he even cleans by hand instead of with magic. Plus, his favorite at home activities seems to be cuddling on the couch and going down on her. She's clinging to this dude as long as she can.

The other thing about Britney though is that she's excessively observant and analytical. She's gunning to work for the magic version of the FBI, which is just like the regular FBI, but you gotta deal with people who can summon demons and shoot fire out of their fingers. So you present her a mystery or start acting weird around her, she's going to investigate, having a penchant for being nosy, curious, and with a penchant of figuring shit out.

Suspicious behavior begins at about 3 months into their relationship when she goes to visit Caleb at the restaurant near closing time so they can go to her place. She gets caught by one of the servers in small talk while Caleb helps with closing down the bar and from the corner of her eye, she sees one of the cooks coming out of the kitchen to go to the bar. He's clearly talking to Caleb, stops right up next him, a hand on Caleb's lower back that seems suspiciously too low and familiar, even for friends. Like she would have a problem if anyone, even her boyfriend, were that touchy while she was at work, and its only made worse when the guy puts his chin on Caleb’s shoulder and her dumbass boyfriend is completely cool with that. 

He eventually elbows the cook away who slinks off with his metaphorical tail between his legs, and when Caleb and Britney finally leave together, she asks innocently who the cook was as he has never mentioned he has a dude friend at work. Caleb brushes it off, says he was just gunning for a free shot since none of management were around, but there’s a certain defensiveness to how he says all of this. It's clear he's either just uncomfortable with the guy or is lying but Britney lets him change the subject with out a fight. It's not that big of a deal; she’s probably just being hyper-on guard given what the line cook is.

She does search up this cook, just to see if he's in the system. Which, yes, he is, but it was for theft and consumption of someone else's animal a number of years ago and he has had no further incidents once he was released from a correctional facility early on good behavior and is even rated relatively low on being a potential issue for the nonmagical populace. So he's fine and she relaxes over it and for another three months, things are great, one weird interaction aside. 

Caleb is staying over at her place more since she doesn’t have roommates and she even gave him a key to have a quiet place to study which has ended in her coming home to a clean apartment several times so...nice. Their relationship is getting the point where she’s considering setting up a meeting with her parents and Britney is starting to feel comfortable in imagining some kind of future together if this continues. She’s still wary from recent bad relationships, but she really does like this guy and wants this work.

And then, while Caleb takes a shower at her place, he leaves his phone on the arm of the couch and he gets a text message. While ‘the boys’ sometimes text late at night, it’s never been with that specific alert sound, one she’s only heard a few times before now in these last two weeks. Being excessively nosy, Britney puts in the password she's spied a hundred times before and lo and behold, it's a message from the line cook at his old job, one he quit not too long ago, asking if Caleb is 'down for meeting up after his shift'. It's the only message in the thread as well, so either this is a new development in their work friendship or... maybe...

Caleb comes back, his phone on the arm of the couch, an unread message awaiting him. He answers it real quick and Britney gives him till morning before asking if he's doing anything tonight after work since she was thinking of going to some movie tonight. He says yeah, sorry, gotta meet a friend for a bit but he's free after that. 

Now, Britney has no clue what's going on here, and all possible sinister explanations are a reach at best. Maybe he just wants to hang out with the line cook without every witch in a ten mile radius giving him a worried look over it. She chalks it up to paranoia considering Caleb’s a great guy, nothings gone wrong yet, and and it just feels like she's just waiting for the shoe to drop again. So she lets that go too.

That is, until two days later and she gets surprised with her favorite chain coffeeshop latte and comes home to a vase of flowers on her kitchen table. Despite these romantic gestures, Caleb rebuffs her advances when he swings by to stay the night over again, stating being sore from work and overexerting himself at the gym. Little weird but it's a stressful time for him and she's more that happy to wave that off until his shirt rides up and she spies finger shaped bruises on his hips, the flowers on her counter wilting at the sight.

Okay, now we have a problem. Angry and hurt, Britney does what she does best when she is confronted with a problem: figure it out from every angle before tackling it head on. Within a week, she gets a hold of his phone again while he’s asleep and surprisingly, the app he’s using to text the line cook is hidden away in the backlog of his phone. As expected, the thread has been emptied, but undeterred and with a bit of snooping into some hidden folders, she finds screenshots saved from even a year back of sexts and nudes and she's seen more of this line cook's weird dick than she ever really wanted to.

One thing that makes her feel better, there is a drought in these from around when they got more serious 5 months ago to about two weeks ago. One thing that stings even more is that Caleb seemingly reinstated this tryst for absolutely no reason. There had been no fight, no lapse in their sex lives, no weirdly off-putting behavior on her part, nothing at all. Caleb really just...wanted to get fucked by this guy...three more times.

There’s an idea of sending this shit to herself, put him on blast on magical insta, and then washing her hands of this. She’s done it before and will probably do it again, but there’s something that stops her. Maybe it’s a sense of relief from how not dragged out this was like her last relationship, maybe it’s some good will from the fact that Caleb was in almost every other respect, a perfect guy, or maybe its merely the fact that she’s tired of her relationships always ending in flames, but Britney instead just puts the phone back down on the nightstand and comes up with a different, quieter plan.

Caleb comes home to his apartment after Britney tells him she’s busy tonight and he finds letter on his desk on top of a garbage bag with his things he left at her place. The letter is short, concise, basically telling him to delete her number, don’t ever speak to her again, and, while what they had was great for what it was, at least he will now have plenty of time for ‘that guy from your last job'. Caleb finds that her key has gone missing from his keyring and tries to send her an apology, but he’s already been blocked at every avenue imaginable, even some that won’t exist for a few years to come. 

Hilariously, since he stops dating because of how bad he feels for using Britney, Caleb no longer has anyone to turn to when he gets booted from his apartment two months later save for the one dude who's the root of all his self-made problems...

[your-enby-antihero]

Caleb and the two very hot purple people that are sitting at the next table over

Based on a  tumblr post

Caleb works as a teacher at the Soltryce Academy. His life is fairly normal, not very notable at all, but when he meets two people at a bar he becomes an utter mess.

also available on ao3

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Chapter 8: Caleb Widogast Gets Flirted with Until he “Passes Out”

Summary: Caleb was originally just going to go home and hangout with his cat, but plans change and identical tieflings happen out of no where.

—————

Beau had pestered Caleb to join her for a drink after work. He had stayed late to watch over the student’s in the gardening club. Beau had been messaging him on one of her breaks and pestered him to come with her to get dinner. Caleb reluctantly agreed and after making sure the last student had gotten to their ride he headed to his car and made his way towards the familiar meeting spot. 

It was a fairly quiet night, plenty of people were either at work late or at home with their family. Not to mention the bar wasn’t usually busy on weekdays  when they weren’t hosting an event or something. Caleb lamented on what he could do to get out of dinner, not that he didn’t want to see his friends but shit he was tired. Frumpkin had one of those boogie cat feeders and water fountains, anything for his son, so he’d be okay if Caleb went out and Caleb was finished marking and planning for the next little while. Truthfully he could have just texted Beau and said he was tired and couldn’t go but for some reason beyond his current comprehension, Caleb Widogast was going to go to that bar. 

The smell of warm food and cold drinks filled the air, a comfortable feeling of coziness coming from the warmly lit interior. Caleb sighed in the feeling of the room and casually sat down at the bar, not paying any mind to his surroundings. His usual seat and slumped into the wood, his glasses pushed into his face. Before he could look up to try and catch Yasha’s attention for a drink he heard the most shrill gasp.

“Holy shit Molly is that HIM???”

The voice sounded strangely familiar, a gentle lilt to the voice but without a rich honey tone that he was used to. As Caleb looked up he met the face of a purple tiefling with short cropped wavy purple hair and brilliant red eyes. Caleb did a bit of a double take as the face was similar to a very certain purple tiefling Caleb was infatuated with but this face lacked the signature peacock tattoo that framed Molly’s face.

“Kingsley! You didn’t mention he was such a cute little man. Look at his little confused face. Oh and isn’t he just such a pathetic little thing,” a separate but similar voice crooned. 

Caleb stared awkwardly at the two purple tiefling in his periphery. One had a short crop to their hair the other wore long hair down to the shoulder, both were missing the signature peacock tattoo and warm radiance that Molly had. He continued to stare, his glasses were askew on his face making him look honestly a bit pathetic. His eyes slowly blinked as he tried to make sense of what was going on.

The two continued to pester him with comments and questions and flirts, the flirts being mostly from the long haired tiefling. He was getting redder and redder and redder by the second.

A person at this point broke the tension by grabbing the two back to the table where Caleb could see a furiously blushing Mollymauk and Essek.

“My apologies, you must be Caleb. I’m Verin, Essek’s younger brother. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” a tall white haired drow smiled.

Caleb sputtered a bit before nodding and stumbling a quick, “it’s lovely to meet you too.”

Caleb could hear Beau and Yasha entering the room from the back. As Beau turned to see the scene in front of her she bursted into laughter.

“Oh my gods! Caleb-Caleb your fucking face. Dude you are bright fucking red,” she coughed.

Caleb tried to cover his face with his knit sweater, he pulled it to attempt to hide the rapid blush on his cheeks. His glasses smushed into his face, for sure leaving an imprint around his eyes.

“Aww sweet boy. Don’t worry kitten, there is no need to hide such a pretty face,” the last and unnamed sibling in the room smiled.

“Verin! Lemme gooooo, I want to talk to Caleb some more,” Kingsley, presumably, complained.

Beau at this point was on the floor practically, her wife leaning over to support her as she journeyed to the ground. Essek’s face despite the dark plum colouration was flushed immensely, as he burrowed himself into his arms on the table. 

Molly, different from their usual collect and charming self, was flushed and squeaked “Lucien-! Kingsley- behave yourselves!”

“Molly you can’t possibly want to keep him all to yourself, be a good sibling and share~,” Lucien smirked as he wiggled out of Verin’s grasp and right next to Caleb.

The older purple tiefling hooked a finger under Caleb’s chin, turning his face, inspecting him. 

He smiled as he maneuvered Caleb’s face around, “you have good taste Essek, he's got a cute face. You’d make quite the match with him out in public. Two nerds in love. Maybe you’d been seen as a normal couple. Molly however with your face and your style of dress, I’m sure Caleb would just be-”

“We have the same face you prick,” Molly shouted.

“Could you please stop touching me-,” Caleb managed to squeak, attempting to pull away. 

Lucien pouted, “Oh dear, you poor sweet boy. Has my silly sibling not even-“

Molly practically jumped from their chair and lunged at Lucien. He tackled Lucien to the ground, cutting off whatever his brother was going to inflict on poor Caleb. It was a good thing that no one else had been in the bar at the time because right then and there Caleb Widogast, cheeks red as tomatoes face planted into the bar. If it were anything like the anime that Jester loved, Caleb would have steam pouring from his ears. Essek was in a very similar position, lounging back into the booth he sat in, attempting to recover. Beau continued to laugh at the situation, never had she thought she’d see something so funny. Yasha had been chuckling, the comedy of the situation not lost in her, though she was a bit concerned. Her concern didn’t exist from nothing as Molly and Lucien argued, Molly pining their brother to the floor and verbally berating him. Kingsley cheered as the other siblings fought, giggling to himself every now and then. Verin sat back down with Essek, fretting over his brother. Maybe Caleb should have gone home to Frumpkin after all, he smiled at the thought of the orange bengal making biscuits on his duvet as his vision receded to black.

[dreamylyfe-x]

I’m kind of curious, what do you think of Ian and Trevor’s relationship? And that leading to him blowing up a van

Ahhh. Trevor. Yeah. I don’t think that was so great. 

First of all, it’s like two different relationships, really. You have season 7 when they’re meeting, getting together and falling apart... and then you have season 8 where they are... I don’t even know what. 

Season 7, I mostly think the show really didn’t have the time and space to tell the story of Ian getting involved with Trevor, but they decided to proceed anyway. Which, if they had wanted it to be an eight episode arc, would have been ok. But Trevor is around for 18 episodes. 

I mean, let’s lay this out. Trevor arrives in 7x04. 7x06 ends with Ian deciding he does in fact want to date him. 7x09 ends with Ian finding out Mickey’s back. Trevor and Ian are together for a hot second. And during that time, we don’t get to find out that much about him. Like we know he’s generous in a lot of ways, but also quick to anger. Kinda condescending. Kinda sweet. Mostly he’s all over the place. A lot of the time I struggle to find Trevor organic. When he gets mad, I’m always like “how did you get there, my dude?” and when he’s all moony I feel the same way. There are multiple scenes of Trevor and Ian laughing over something that go TOO LONG and feel a bit like old episodes of Murder, She Wrote, where they always had to have the show about violent death end on Jessica smiling. Then there’s stuff like Trevor telling off Frank. Trevor telling Fiona she’s a badass. It has a real Poochie vibe to me. But.... Trevor is not a Poochie. Trevor is a character who, if he had any chance of working, is about to get cut off at the knees. 

The show cannot be confused about what is going to happen in 7x10 when Mickey comes back. Not just to Ian, but to the audience. Storywise, we are going to be shown positive proof that Ian is still in love with Mickey. Not just a little bit, not lingering feelings, but try to leave your family and job and give all your money away in love with his ex. And even outside of what’s on the page, they’re like “Here. This is what is looks like when Cam has chemistry with someone. This is what the performances look like when there’s some complexity and history and subtext. Here’s a character with a strong voice and a well-established personality.” 

And now... Here’s Trevor. 

I’m sure Trevor had his fans. Like, I get it. I particularly get it if people just really like Elliot Fletcher. But the people behind this show aren’t idiots and they know how to craft a story. You can see it with Mickeys’ two-episode arc. They have to know you can’t have that story and have a viable Ian/Trevor romance in the same season. You gotta pick one. And they picked Mickey. 

AS THEY SHOULD. 

*ahem*

That brings us to season 8, which is even weirder on the Trevor tip than season 7. 

For most people, if you’ve been dating some guy and the second the ex showed up your boyfriend not only instantly falls back into bed with him, but then runs away with him for a few days and only comes back because of a bunch of considerations that have nothing to do with whether or not he’s in love with the guy...  that’s gonna be it. EVEN if his mother dies. The normal thing to do would be, in the words of Lip Gallagher, to fuck someone else. Like ANYONE else. He cheated weeks in. It’s done. 

So why the heck are they still hanging out together in season 8? Like from a story POV. What is the reason? 

My theory on the Ian front is detailed in my story Unsent and it’s basically this: Ian was desperate for comfort and Trevor must have been a person he thought he could get that from. He had gotten it from him (imperfectly, maybe) in the past. I DO NOT KNOW what Trevor wanted. I really don’t. I never got to know Trevor well enough. 

I’ll tell you want he didn’t want: What was best for Ian. 

And honestly, why should he? Ian is his ex. For good reason. Trevor does not need to be nice to him. Trevor doesn’t even really have to tell Ian to go away, though he almost certainly should have. It probably would have been kinder. But honestly, so much of what comes next only makes sense if you decide Trevor is low-key evil. He lets Ian pine (pretty normal level of ex-punishment), tells him he loves him (NOT POSSIBLE. I love Ian Gallagher too, sir, but that is NOT POSSIBLE. You were together for a minute and you are not that ridiculous) and then does this gross, dehumanizing weird thing involving men with bigger bodies. Lets/encourages Ian to prostitute himself to get money for the shelter. Yells at Ian over Geneva when a conversation might have been more appropriate/made more sense. And then, right as Ian starts to tip into really concerning behaviour, kiiiiiinda get back with him, sort of? And then vanish when it becomes extremely clear that he’s sick. 

But I don’t think the show intends for him to be evil. I’m not sure what the show intends him to be, but I suspect we’re supposed to think he’s a good guy. He almost functions like Harry in Dexter. Just the guy standing at Ian’s elbow and making comments on the action. He isn’t really being written like he’s separate from Ian. He’s there to provide some sort of stimulus to direct the action. But it’s hard to view Trevor as a character. 

I actually think Shameless has incredible skill to bring in characters for ten minutes and make them seem like rounded characters. I don’t think they get there with Trevor because I don’t think they ever really decided what they were doing with him. They didn’t entirely have room for the character on the canvas in season 7 and then they kind shoehorn him in to what comes next. I also think the issues with Trevor extend to Caleb, actually. They’re both strangely changeable. Sometimes encouraging and affectionate and sometimes cold, manipulative or bullying. I personally think that Caleb is the worse of the two, but neither of them are easy to root for. 

I’m not 100% I’m sure I am interpreting what you’re asking about the van correction. I certainly don’t attribute that to Trevor and I have much less frustration with him than I do with Ian’s family for not recognizing how many bright red flags there were. Certainly Trevor’s hesitancy seems to come a little late. But Trevor isn’t Ian’s boyfriend and he might consider himself Ian’s friend, but he’s also clearly got some serious feelings of wrongdoing where Ian is concerned. 

In Trevor’s defence, with the whole series finished, I think season 8 is certainly one of, if not THE weakest season. Trevor isn’t the only problem. But I don’t think he’s a very successful character for them. 

[iatethepomegranate]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences (for now)

Relationship: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Summary: After Aeor, Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha. For the first time in more than seventeen years, he has some semblance of stability. Caleb is not sure he's ready to handle it, but he's trying, and his friends are eager to see him live a good life, by force if necessary.

And then Soltryce Academy approaches him with a job offer, which could give Caleb the chance to protect the next generation of wizards the way he had needed at their age. Caleb's goal of preventing what happened to him from happening to anyone else, however, takes a far more personal turn than even he could have anticipated.

(In other words, here is a fic about Caleb settling down and learning how to be a person again. Also Professor Widogast will be a thing. Fic title is a lyric from I Have Made Mistakes by the Oh Hellos. Chapter title is a lyric from Mind by Sleeping At Last. More detailed tagging and notes are available on AO3.)

_____

Chapter 1: It's the first brush stroke of a self-portrait

Caleb had mixed feelings returning to Rexxentrum after spending so long in Aeor… and everywhere else he had been, including a fucking flesh city in the Astral Sea. Sure, he had popped back to Rexxentrum regularly to update the Cobalt Soul on his discoveries, and to testify at Trent’s trial, during the conclusion of which he had the satisfaction of turning down Da’leth’s offer to assume Trent’s position as the Archmage of Civil Influence. But now he was back on a more permanent basis.

He didn’t know what to do with that information. With this place, that was both so familiar and so foreign. Full of some of his best memories, and some of his worst.

Caleb had spent so long avoiding this place, or at least the challenging parts of it, and now Beauregard was dragging him and Yasha down the street, infodumping about a house she wanted the three of them to buy together.

“Caleb, don’t give me that look,” she said. “You’re gonna love this place. I know you like your space, dude, and this is the best of both worlds. It’s technically two houses, but there’s, like, a door between them so we can visit each other. Because you’re a fucking genius but you also forget to feed yourself.”

Yasha smiled at Caleb over Beau’s head. “She’s not wrong, Caleb.” Her soft tone made Caleb a little emotional, but he categorically refused to start crying in the street. “I like my space, too. This is a good balance. And there’s room for a garden.”

“Yasha’s not an Empire citizen,” said Beau. “It looks better if there’s two of us Empire kids on the deed so no one thinks any weird shit about her.”

Caleb sighed at her. “I will look at the house, Beauregard.”

Beau yanked them around the street corner. “It’s a great location. You can walk anywhere. I can get to the Archive, and you can get to the Academy.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Maybe. Astrid says hi.”

The implication that Astrid and Beauregard had been speaking to each other recently was of concern. Caleb was too tired to unpack it. He would find out what that was about eventually. It was not worth Beauregard’s sibling-level mockery if he tried to extract the information early.

“Oh, and Veth sent you this,” said Yasha, passing a wrapped package over Beau’s head.

“Yeah, I might’ve told her we’re buying a house together,” said Beau. “She made Yussa send that to the Soul so I could grab it for you.”

Caleb didn’t open the package, but he did shake and squeeze it a little. It felt like coins. A lot of coins. Oh, Veth. Still taking care of him from miles upon miles away. They’d both come so far from Veth sneaking coins into his pockets because he had felt strange about taking her money even when he desperately needed it.

“Danke,” he said softly. That was all he could say, before he risked bursting into tears again. That was happening to him a lot lately. It… wasn’t the worst thing. More of an inconvenience. He chose not to unpack it.

Beauregard was looking at him strangely. He elbowed her. It probably hurt his elbow more than it hurt her, but she was successfully distracted from his bullshit. She punched his arm. Even holding back like she did, his arm did go numb for a few seconds.

Yasha sighed. “Children, we’re almost there.”

Caleb had been down this street before. Rarely, as it was entirely residential. But sometimes he, Astrid and Eadwulf would explore the city to find excuses to get away from the Academy, especially after they had commenced their training with Trent. But, with Caleb’s memory, he could call upon the map he had drawn in his mind. This was a middle-income area on the southern edge of The Tangles, home to mostly professionals--well-off storeowners, any researchers who did not live in the Shimmer Ward or have access to quarters with the Cobalt Soul, some teachers, architects. Largely people looking to settle down with the money to stay out of the Mudtop Ward.

It was close to the Shimmer Ward, a little southwest from the gate, but not so close that Caleb felt an itch on the back of his neck. The Tangles were the oldest part of the city, with narrow looping streets with little logic to them. This area was slightly newer than most of The Tangles, but still old. Regardless, The Tangles were fairly central to the city and an easy starting point for any travel. If you didn’t get lost on the way out.

This far south in the area, the houses were a little more spaced out. A little more green space, more gardens. Duplex-style houses were common, mostly built of old stone or lumpy brick on the first floor and clay bolstered by wooden frames above that. Children were out in force, running and screaming through the narrow streets while their parents watched from the porch of their homes. Well, for those who had porches.

“There she is,” said Beauregard. They had stopped in front of another duplex-style building, newer than some of the others but still respectable in age. The first floor was made from dark reddish brick and the upper two floors panelled with dark wood to bolster the white clay walls. The first two floors were full in width, and the third consisted of two dormers peeking through the darkly thatched roof.

There were two entrance doors on the ground floor, each spaced a third of the house’s width from the outer corners. The rectangular windows were framed in white-painted wood, dividing the glass on each window into six little squares.

Before the three of them was a low wooden fence, also painted white. The paint was chipping a little, revealing the deep brown heartwood that Caleb suspected was oak. There were a number of oak trees in the Pearlbow Wilderness. Caleb had slept under them several times in worse days. Oak was rather expensive, if he remembered correctly. He usually remembered correctly.

“She’s pretty hot, right, Caleb?” Beau said, snapping out of his hyperfocus on the history of timber in the Zemni Fields.

“Oh… ja.”

“Cool, so the owner will be here in a few minutes to let us in so we can have a look. She wants to sell the place as a package deal.”

Caleb had, in some ways, trained himself out of being too attached to places or most material things (with a few exceptions such as his spell components, spellbook, and the letters he had written to his parents). Unless there was something horrifically wrong inside, he didn’t care where Beauregard and Yasha wanted to live. It was practical that they live together, after all. Caleb had healed immensely this past year, but he was self-aware enough to understand he probably shouldn’t live alone. Of the Nein, Beauregard knew how to call him on his bullshit and Yasha understood him pretty well and knew he needed space sometimes, so it was a reasonable arrangement.

“I am really not picky, Beauregard.”

“Yeah, because you still don’t care enough about yourself to give a fuck about this. We know.” Beauregard looped her arm around his neck, dragging him down to her level so she could rub her knuckles across his scalp, ruining the two narrow braids Essek had worked from Caleb’s hairline to his messy ponytail that morning before they had parted ways beside the secret entrance to Aeor. Caleb talked himself out of getting upset with Beauregard over it. She couldn’t have known, and she was being affectionate like he really was her brother.

Once he was free, Yasha fixed the braids, and Caleb had to stop himself from crying again because she had noticed it bothered him and just… fixed it without making it a thing. Beau straightened her expositor’s garb, clearing her throat.

“Sorry, dude.”

Caleb conjured a mage hand to tug on her ponytail. Beau swatted at it, but her hand went right through it. She gave him the finger. Yasha finished fixing the braids. Everything was normal again.

The owner, a half-elf woman with long blonde hair coiled into a bun that looked like a cinnamon scroll, arrived and immediately shook Caleb’s hand.

“Mr Widogast, a pleasure. These ladies have told me a lot about you. My name is Alphira Winterheart. I teach evocation at the Soltryce Academy.”

Caleb still felt a spike of anxiety when he heard the name of that place. At this point it was ingrained, even if he held out a small amount of hope he would get to teach there one day. It would be easier to fight corruption if he had some say over what the Academy put into those children’s heads.

“A pleasure,” Caleb replied, a little flatter than he had intended. He mentally shook himself, remembering to actually grip her hand for a proper handshake. “Evocation? I used to specialise in that area.”

“Ja, Ms Lionett told me you are now a Transmutation specialist but still frequently partake in the Evocation school in your travels. I’m glad to hear you intend to put down roots here in Rexxentrum. I would love to exchange theories over coffee.”

Beauregard smirked. Caleb remembered a conversation with Essek where they had agreed to return to Aeor and exchange theories. They had meant that literally. But it had indeed sounded like a euphemism to someone like Beauregard. Well, she hadn’t been wrong in the end, but certainly the intent at the time had been more about a meeting of minds than a meeting of…

Caleb concentrated on the conversation in front of him instead.

“Ja, I would enjoy that,” he replied. “What level of Evocation do you teach?”

“Oh, I teach the beginners.”

“And you live here in the Tangles?”

“I did,” said Alphira. “Archmage Beck has offered me lodging on her estate, so I am selling this house. It was always a little large for one person, and it seems you three could make better use of it than I did.” She leaned closer to Caleb, as if to tell him a secret. “The place on the left is where I prefer to experiment and study. I would recommend you look at that one in particular. The dormer is slightly larger. You could even put a teleportation circle up there if you were so inclined, given your need to travel.”

“Danke.” Caleb still felt a little weird about Rexxentrum mages not wanting to kill him, but he didn’t sense any untoward motives from this woman. She seemed genuinely friendly. “How… is the new Archmage settling in?”

“I have no complaints. She seems competent, if a little terrifying. I am uncertain if that is her past as a Volstrucker, or a necessity of the job. She has been nothing but kind to me, and I would certainly prefer to be her friend than her enemy.”

“Ja, we are familiar with her,” said Caleb.

“Caleb most of all,” said Yasha.

Beauregard had to turn away before she burst out laughing.

“We should look at the house,” Caleb said before the conversation could go anywhere strange. Gods, he missed Aeor already.

Alphira unlocked both front doors. They checked the one on the right first.

“This one has a larger living area,” said Alphira, leading them through the entrance. “I am offering the furniture as part of the sale. I have already taken everything I need.”

Beauregard threw herself onto the large couch in the centre of the room. “Yasha and I call dibs on this side of the house. Since you’re gonna spend so much time here with us anyway. We’re taking the larger living area.”

“Beauregard, we have already established that I do not mind.”

The floor underfoot was a pleasant hardwood, probably more oak, and a large rug occupied much of the space. They would have to purchase candles for the evening, but it was well-lit during the day. Caleb followed the women through each of the rooms on the ground floor on this side, largely going through the motions. The kitchen was equally large, and had a good oven for Yasha to practice baking. They would need to purchase a larger dining table.

There was one large bedroom upstairs and two smaller ones, alongside private areas for bathing and other such activities. This was where they found the door between the two houses. The top floor dormer was full of assorted furniture and household items Alphira didn’t need, but they would likely use. Beauregard and Yasha discussed the possibility of turning this into another bedroom for when they had friends over. Or perhaps converting one of the lower bedrooms into a workout space and using this as a replacement. Caleb did not need to contribute much to the conversation, aside from promising he would help move furniture with telekinesis.

Truth be told, Caleb was having a hard time concentrating on the whole thing. He hadn’t really had a home in a long time, and he could not wrangle his mind into understanding the change. The Xhorhaus had been easier to stomach, as nobody had expected to live there forever. But this? Putting down roots? Real , long-term roots?

Maybe Caleb had been homeless for too long. It was beyond his comprehension at this point. And maybe it frightened him a little. He could not afford to inspect those feelings, not right now.

He pulled himself together in time to inspect the other side of the building. His side. His house. Scheisse .

The living area was a little smaller, but could still easily welcome the Nein (just in rather cosy quarters). The kitchen, also smaller but still respectable--a little larger than his childhood home in Blumenthal. There was less furniture on this side; Alphira had evidently used this side more and therefore had more furniture to take. There were two bedrooms on the second floor, one slightly larger than the other. Caleb found himself thinking that he would probably take the larger one just so there was enough room when Essek was over, or maybe he would take the smaller one so Veth could bring her family with her. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do.

And then they visited the dormer. It was indeed larger than the other one. There was a table in front of the window, with a few dark ink stains, and plenty of floorspace to spread out notes or create a teleportation circle. A few chairs were stacked in the corner, seemingly in good condition, and one wall was lined with empty shelves.

Caleb had always been partial to a tower, and this was pretty close. It would make a great study.

He was genuinely excited over a house. In Rexxentrum. A short journey from where his childhood home once stood. He was going to hyperventilate if he thought about this too hard.

“There are already plenty of shelves in my new house,” Alphira said. “These are all yours.”

Caleb nodded slowly, pulling his mind back into his skull. “Wundervoll, danke.” He took a calming breath. “This is a nice place, Professor.”

Alphira smiled. “Yes, I did not make nearly enough use out of it. But I hear you three have a lot of friends from out of town.”

“Ja, we do not see them enough.”

“Perhaps you will see them more once you have a place to welcome them.” Alphira led them back downstairs, and into the other side of the house where they could sit around the small dining table. Alphira already had the paperwork they needed to sign; Caleb got the impression Beau and Yasha had already decided to buy the house before they spoke to him about it. He was glad the decision was out of his hands.

He signed the paperwork, using both his legal name and the name he now wore (Alphira had apparently been briefed on this, and had consulted a contract lawyer on how to make it work on a binding document). Caleb had needed to sign various statements as part of Trent’s trial, so signing in Bren’s name was not as strange as he feared it would be. He was relieved. Beau and Yasha had insisted on finding a way that his new name would also be included, given he had not gone through any legal name-change process. The money Veth gave him more than covered his part of the cost. He needed to hug her. He needed to hug all of them.

Alphira gave them three copies of the contract and handed over the deed to the property. “I will head to the housing authority and file the paperwork immediately.” She slid the keys over the table to them. “Congratulations on your new home.”

She left. Caleb traced the shapes of the letters on his copy of the contract, over and over, letting reality sink in. He had a house. A house in Rexxentrum. A house in Rexxentrum with two of his best friends. It wasn’t at all what he imagined he would have when he was seventeen, when he thought he and Astrid and Wulf would one day have done their duty for the empire and settled down together.

But this was good. This was right .

He cried. Yasha was probably crying, too, but he couldn't see. The three of them hugged across the table, the edges jabbing their ribs.

[sjw-publishings]

Wassup Beach!

“Wassup, FAGS!”

Alex and Liam uncomfortably gazed away from the homophobic asian, who taunted them sarcastically like one of those bullies from college...than again, Cohen Wang was one of those bullies.

The 5 year boyfriends were looking for their friend Caleb...or at least they think that was his name, but it didn’t matter anyway, especially if the surfer jock was around.

“This is a QUEER-FREE BEACH, Beeeetches, get the Fag out!”

Even without insults from the douchebag, the two of them planned on carrying their stuff and heading a less crowded around, with clearer sand, a better view of the ocean, and no homophobia.

After all, there were Two lesbians embracing each other lovingly by the ocean. This was a safe space.

“No worries babe...I got popsicles!”

Alex smiled, glad Liam isn’t taking those insults too seriously, knowing how his boyfriend would usually be fighting back.

Setting up the umbrella, mat, and cooler box. Liam surprisingly did most of the work and pretty quickly, maybe he didn’t want to ruin their 1 year anniversary of when they started going out.

“Red bean and green tea?”

“They’re pretty good. Got the last two before they sold out.”

Liam sat on the matt, taking up most of the space on the mat as he munched on the red bean. Alex smiled, his boyfriend was so cute, even if he was acting more dominant. He proceed to pop the green tea one in his mouth...and wow...so good.

“Mmm, this green tea is good ...Liam?”

“Pretty cool...so good...”

Liarom immediately fished out for another red bean, his boyfriend of one month always seemed to be a huge Asia fan.

Though he won’t deny the....the speed at which Liarom was eating seemed to be quite excessive-

“What the fa-?”

RRIIIIIIIP!

Shredding the Hawaiian shirt, the man exposed his bare chest on display as he ate.

Large grabbable pectorals shining on display with a handsome coating of hair which made him all the more handsome.

But wasn’t his boyfriend body shy? No...that’s not right. The pan-asian man always loved displaying his body openly to the public. Wearing revealing clothing to accentuate his giant back muscles, his muscular arms which always seemed to be in the mood for a flex, his wonder abdominals which hid a six pack underneath, ready to pop out in a matter of days.

But...he was his right? As he glanced at those toned feet wiggling in their asian tanned splendour, thick sausage trunks which are begging to be massages. Especially up his thighs, to the large snake poking out his red beach trunks....weren’t they rainbow...? But that’s not right.

After all...his boy...friend always aimed to be manly...wait no-

“Li...Lierom!”

“Chill Fag~”

His friend always seemed to be quite the homophobe, ignoring what he says and always aiming to be chill and not caring about anything else.

It wasn’t before long that the necklace of...some gay couple, twisted into a simple silver chain of the bisexual jock’s chest. Though its questionable if the man was bisexual even...as he more than often teamed up with jock bullies to torment-

“FAG! Ooooooooof~”

Jerking from behind, like a huge stick pulled up from his arse, shrinking to an unpiercable bubble butt. Grabbing a hold of his manhood within those shorts, the man started panting, deep masculine groans emerged as a prominent apple stuck on his throat. Tossing the last of the red bean popsicles into the cooler box, the man grunted, begging for release.

It was...so hot. As Alex kneaded below, watching as his asian bully grunted in front of him. The hot tanned complexion bathing his skin, as those long hair chops sliced off and got carried away to the wind.

Sides buzzed off to the back as a stylish gelled top rested on the man, grinning like a doofus as a well groomed goatee donned his chin. A tasty moustache rested above his upper lip, and pearly whites shone from within him.

He closed his eyes, beaming his goofiest smile as the handsome surfer jock just went-

“OH!”

Splurt

“OHHHHHHH!”

As his body rested completely flat on the sand, completely entranced by the sound of the waves and-

“What a stud~”

“Tee hee~”

The asian hunk got up in an instant, ditching the strange stalker...whoever he was, behind him. Because all he cared about now was-

“Wassup Beeeaaaches~ the LEROY’S IN DA HOUSE!”

Leroy Wen swaggered to the ladies hanging over at the ocean, who instinctively swung his muscular arms over both of them like an Alpha, as the asian beach babes clutched onto him like the hunk he was.

The three of them fading of into the distance, like strangers as the confused gay SNAPPED out of his trance. His legs man-spreading on the beach mat, left hand digging into his trunks, the other fishing out for...for-

“Da Faaaaaack man?”

Alex slurred, almost uncharacteristically but he was kinda drunk wasn’t he? At least he recalled. Noting a couple of used beer cans, and popsicle sticks? Oh right...that green tea was great.

BUT WHY WAS IT ALL OUT?

Getting up, the man drunkly walked on the sand, still in a daze. But he had to get more...it was his vacation, right? His SOLO time.

Though he felt that everyday was his vacation.

“Huhuh... cool.”

Walking down the clear sands, making his way to the rough jagged Beach with crowds of people. Normally the caucasian would stay away from caution, but he felt pretty chill...

Walking with a swagger, making big steps as his footprints got larger, and larger as he made the transition. His legs certainly stretched like taffy, before solidifying with tough muscle. Swift moves, like surfin’.

“Surfin’~”

He slurred, lugging his thick calves towards the wavy rough ocean, size 12s sinking into the sand-but his height remained unchanged. Tall at a 6ft 3, like the chill dude he was-

“CHILL OUT FAG!”

SPLASH!

A huge tidal wave came crashing down on him, yet he still had a dopey grin...

The water engulfed his shirt away, dissolving until he was shirtless. It too had bathed the previous colours away, from those shorts, BEACH shorts they were, stretching with navy blue elasticity, with white rings at the edges and waist. A string tied itself from the front, which got pushed out further due to his thick manhood.

His buttocks clenched, preventing any water from entering in...but that’s not just it. He was gay, but he was not into that kind of intimacy...felt that it was a little too QUEER for him, he had a firm butt too...wouldn’t want to get spanked by a sissy.

Speaking of ‘sissy’, that sarcastic voice...and the word Fag really got to him. He was a Fag, but that didn’t give anybody the right to call him fag...but then they were right that he was a Fag?

Confused by the train of thought, he simply blurted-

“Shaddup Fag!”

This got the attention of a familiar looking douche, Cohen. Who pushed down his specs, got down his surfboard, and had a staring contest with the slightly taller male.

“No you shaddup Fag!”

“No you shaddup Fag!”

Mimicking the man’s voice, it was simple, and confused the heck out of the surfer jock.

“YOU SHADDUP!”

“YOU SHADDUP!”

He smirked, watching his dumbass rival trying to outsmart his dumbass and LOSIN’. After a moment of a heated glare-

“HAHAHA!”

Antolex laughed stupidly with his surfer bud, and frat roomie as the two grinned dumbly at the other. It always was fun questioning the other’s masculinity...cause it just made themselves-

“YOU GAY?”

MANLIER!

Stretching his wide traps, he arm hugged his bro. Hs lean but strong arms were a marvel to the ladies on the beach, alongside those wide traps exposed to the ocean.

“NO YOU GAY!”

Of course, the insult now stung harder than before, considering he WASN’T GAY. Duh, just look at his tanned bod, the effort he made to tone out his chest and pecs just so he can impress the ladies! Wasn’t as defined as his bro, but wasn’t bad since he mostly just started going serious last month, and used to always just party and get wasted in the frat house.

“YOU DA FAG!”

He grinned dumbly, his voice rumbling in a dark baritone drunken stupor.

Course he wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he knew how to insult like his Frat Bro. Especially at the queers that gawk at him, this Asian Surfer was for DA LADIES ONLY!

“OH YEAH WELL-Bro...Bro!”

“What Bro?”

“Ladies...2 o clock!”

The men almost turned upon radar, spotting a couple of asian chicks who giggled and blushed at the men. Their gorgeous super model bods revealed...was just too much for this drunk dude.

“So...hot!”

Almost like time froze, as the man palmed himself without restraint. Kneading his hard member as he grinned his dumbest grin. A lust dusting of stubble over and under his lips, as a handsome gust of wind shaped his hair to a stylish short cut like his Bro.

His legs swaggered to the middle of the Beach, almost like a spotlight reserved for him. Except it was bright daylight, as his facial features had that dull but attractive charisma. Kneading himself as he grinned his widest grin.

Anthony Chang was ready to party.

PSSSH!

“WASSUP BEACH!”

[pixieposts]

Dice Prompt

Today I was rudely woken up at 4am so I decided to use the extra time to write.

I rolled a 10!  Our prompt is: “Can we please stop running?  I think I am dying”  Enjoy!

AO3  

Fjord sighed as he watched the bartender walk back over with his beer, muttering a quiet thank you as he took it.  He hated being the first one to arrive when the Nine met up, especially when it involved a bar that he had never been to.  But it had been another week from hell at school, with mid-terms coming up and extra holiday shifts at the garage... he was wiped out.  A night out with friends was exactly what he needed.  

“Fjord!  Fuckin’ bus was late again”  

He smiled as he heard Beau’s voice ring out behind him, only to have the smile disappear immediately when he heard another join her

“Fjord?”  

He turned on his barstool, disbelief filling his mind as he caught sight of not only Beau, but the person who had walked in with her.  Slim, with long ginger hair tied loosely back, dressed in worn-out jeans and a dark grey cardigan... It couldn’t be him.  

“Fjord Stone?”  

It was definitely him.  

Fjord had never heard anyone else say his name the way he did.    

“Caleb Widogast” he breathed, trying to change his shocked expression for a smile and failing miserably.

Big blue eyes stared at him, blinking in matching disbelief before turning to Beau with a pointed look.  

“This is why you wanted me to come out so badly?  You could have just said--”  

“It’s more fun if it’s a surprise dude!”

“More fun for you maybe”

Fjord watched them argue until his heartrate had slowed back to normal, then cleared his throat.  They both looked over sheepishly, seeming to realize that they had all but forgotten he was there.  Honestly, it was kind of cute.  

“You mad?” Beau asked, going for her usual nonchalance but giving herself away with a nervous frown “I thought it would be fun”  

“I just don’t understand how... what?” he turned to Caleb “I thought you were still in Xhorhas training with that Essek guy?”

“I... I decided I wanted to branch out a bit”  

Beau tugged Caleb over, all but shoving him onto one of the stools next to Fjord before taking one herself.  She waved down the bartender and ordered two beers before turning back to them.

“I can explain this one” she thanked the bartender, handing a beer to Caleb with a nod “Cay here is in a couple of my classes, we’ve been hanging out and working together since last year” she took a sip “he starts telling me about this guy, this old friend that he hadn’t been able to get in touch with right?  And I’m like thinkin’, y’know, the city is huge so that makes sense”  

Fjord nodded along, despite having no idea where this was going.  

“And then like... two months-ish ago you” she pointed at Fjord with her beer bottle “mentioned the same thing.  Old friend, couldn’t find him online, hadn’t seen him in years yadda-yadda" she waved a hand dismissively “so I start doing a little poking around right?  Looking at old year books and talking to my connections at the Xhorhas Soul... and what do I find?”  

She reached into her jackets inner pocket and whipped out a piece of paper that looked like it had been torn directly out of a book.  Caleb glared at her, grumbling under his breath about damaging books that weren’t your own.  She shushed him, laying the paper out and smiling brightly when they both leaned in.  Fjord felt warmth bloom in his chest when he realized what he was looking at, it wasn’t just some scrap of paper, it was a photo (albeit a photo she had definitely ripped out of a yearbook).  In it were young Caleb and Fjord, dressed in outdated clothes with Fjord’s arm wrapped around Caleb’s skinny shoulders.  Fjord was beaming at the photographer while Caleb looked up at him, a fond smile on his face that sent Fjord’s stomach into summersaults.  Caleb looked nearly the same, but without the scruff and with his hair cut to just above his shoulders.  Fjord could just barely see the tips of his still blunted tusks poking out in the smile... so they had to be nearly graduated.  He hadn’t stopped filing them until around then.  Caleb had convinced him to stop, now that he thought about it...

“So, I find this, and it just confirmed what I was already pretty sure about” she tapped the photo triumphantly “you’re welcome, assholes”  

Fjord tore his eyes from the old photo, looking up just in time to see Caleb do the same.  For all the other ways that age had changed them... his eyes were just the same.  Deep ocean blue and far too clever for his own good, and Fjord couldn’t help but smile.  

“Thank you, Beauregard” Caleb said quietly, without looking away “this was very kind of you”

“Yeah, thanks Beau”  

In his peripheral he could see Beau looking between them with her eyes narrowed in the way that he knew meant she was making note of something.  The growing sense of joy in his chest distracted him enough that he really didn’t care at the moment.  

“Are you two about to get all gross and sappy?”  

“I cannot make any promises to the contrary” Caleb shrugged, still smiling as he took a sip of his beer

“Nope” Fjord said with an exaggerated pop “I can’t either.  We got a lot of years to catch up on”  

“Ugh, this was a mistake”

“Are you sure?  I have many stories about high school Fjord that I know you would enjoy”  

Fjord shot him a glare without any real menace behind it.

“Two can play at that game, should I tell her about the time you blew up the chem lab?”

“Only if you want her to know about the time you flooded the entire gym”  

Beau was smirking now, looking from one to the other mischievously.

“Okay, I take it back, this was a great idea and I’m a fucking genius”  

They spent the next thirty minutes going back and forth with stories of their high school years, and all the ridiculous teenage stuff they had gotten up to.  By then the others had arrived, and Fjord was shocked to see that none of them were confused by Caleb’s presence.  Somehow, through the last two years, Caleb had managed to make friends with all of Fjords friends... and they had never run into each other.  He supposed it wasn't THAT strange, Caleb had never been one for parties and had always put more of his focus into school than socializing... but still.  Once the whole group was here, the conversations shifted to more general topics, like mid-terms and work and petty grievances (those were mostly Molly, admittedly).  Caleb and Beau swapped seats at one point, so the Beau could flirt more directly with Yasha and Jester, and Caleb turned to him with a small smile.  His cheeks had started to colour from the beers, giving him an endearing blush.  

“Hallo again”

“Hey” Fjord smiled back, fondness softening his expression

“You have grown out your tusks” Caleb mused; head tilted slightly “they suit you”  

“Same with your hair” Fjord reached out, tugging lightly on a loose strand before tucking it behind Caleb’s ear “you look good Cay, happy”

“I am” he laid a hand over Fjord’s on the bar “I am happy, things have been good I just...” he paused, and the tips of his ears went pink too “I have missed you.  Very much.”

“You’re not an easy man to find” Fjord turned his hand over, pressing the scars of their long-ago pact together “but I’ve missed you too, the city’s felt weird without you around”

“I have been around”

“Apparently, still can’t believe we haven't run into each other before this”  

“It certainly seems strange does it not?”  

They sat that way for the rest of the night, catching up at first, talking about what they had done in the 5 years since they had graduated high school.  Caleb told him about Xhorhas, how fascinating the country was, how strange it felt to be one of the very few humans on the school's campus there.  He had learned Undercommon out of necessity but ended up loving the language itself very quickly.  In return Fjord told him about the garage where he had met Yasha, and her convincing him to apply for school.  About meeting Caduceus not long after and his shift into following the Wildmother.  Caleb had never been religious, but he beamed and gave Fjords hand a squeeze when he talked about the peace she had brought into his life.  

Eventually, they were pulled back into conversation with the others, but Fjord's heart swelled when he realized that Caleb wasn’t pulling his hand away.  They stayed that way the rest of the night, Caleb interlocking their fingers when they all got up to stumble towards the bus stop.  Caleb leaned heavily on him as they waited, the others were trying to decide who’s place to head to for the rest of the night.  Fjord tugged him in close, leaning his head on Caleb's when it landed against his shoulder as the others settled on Molly and Yasha’s place.  The ground started to walk, since the little rental house was off campus and the weather was still reasonable.  

There was something so wonderful about how easily they had slipped back into physical touch.  It had taken Fjord years to break down Caleb’s walls enough the first time, and part of him had worried (however briefly) that it would be like starting over.  

Instead, it felt like nothing had changed between them, like the last five years hadn’t happened at all.  

“Last one there has to clean the dishes tomorrow!” Jester shrieked, starting to sprint off in the direction of the house.

“Fuck that!” “No fucking way!”  

Fjord smirked down at Caleb, tightening his grip on the other man's hand before he gave chase along with the others.  Beau had taken an obvious lead but had slowed down slightly to stay close to Jester and Yasha.  Molly and Jester were cheering and swearing and laughing interchangeably into the night as they ran, and Fjord found himself laughing along.  After a few blocks, when his heart had really started to pound and he was beginning to regret that last beer, Caleb tugged his hand.

“Can we please stop running?” he panted as Fjord slowed “I think I am dying”  

Fjord chuckled as he slowed more to a walk, then stopped completely, watching Caleb press a hand to his chest.

“I am dying, definitely”

“No, you’re not” Fjord chuckled, joy and adrenaline making him brave as the sounds of the others faded into the night “c’mere, look”  

He moved in close, pressing the tips of his fingers to Caleb’s neck and feeling the thundering pulse under his skin.

“See?  Perfectly fine, very much alive”  

Caleb looked up at him now, cheeks flushed dark with exertion and hair a wild mess... Fjord wondered when the tie had come loose.  

“Are you sure?” Caleb's free hand came up to rest on top of his “I am not convinced”  

Fjord's cheeks heated up past the point of the run as Caleb slid their hands down from his neck to rest on his chest instead.  Fjord could feel his heart pounding in time with Caleb’s as his voice dropped nearly to a whisper.

“I missed you very much Fjord” his tongue darted across his bottom lip and Fjord’s eye followed the motion “I always... There were so many things I never managed to tell you; I have regretted it ever since”

“Tell me now then Cay, it’s just us”

“It has always been us Fjord” he took a deep breath “It has always been you for me, all this time away I—it was always you”  

“Caleb--” Fjord's heart leapt “Fuck, all these years and we’re just now...” he trailed off with a smile, bringing his hand from Caleb's chest up to cup his jaw lightly “Can I kiss you?”

“Gods yes”  

“Finally.” Fjord teased, leaning down to lock their lips together.  

Caleb sighed happily into the kiss, tilting his head to get a better angle as Fjord walked them off the sidewalk and pressed Caleb’s back to a large tree.  How long they stayed that way, trading kisses and whispered words of endearment, he couldn’t say but eventually (far too soon) the sounds of their friends had completely faded and they knew they ought to continue on their way.  If they didn’t someone was sure to come looking, and they would never hear the end of it.  The others wore knowing looks when they finally got back to the house, hands locked and faces flushed.  Beau handed Caleb a new hair tie and a drink, but nothing was said about it for the moment, and Fjord was grateful.  The evening wore on, with more drinks and stories and games, and with Caleb curled up against Fjord’s side.  

Come morning, tired but content, they stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink, and Fjord couldn’t help but feel like the evening had definitely been worth the wait... and doing the dishes.  

[fairmoephelia]

I Met Sarah in the Bathroom

beauyasha week day three!! modern au, enjoy a fic of yasha and beau meeting in the bathroom of a party.

slight warning: there is no in depth talk about it but obann is yasha’s ex (before she came out as a lesbian) and he’s mentioned to have been pretty shitty. so if that bothers you please be careful reading

fic below the cut!

Yasha could feel Obann’s grip on her arm as she stormed through the party, “Calm down, you’re making a scene.” He told her as she tore her arm away from his grasp, shirking his hand as he tried to grab her again.

“Leave me alone,” she muttered, pushing past the few people who didn’t instinctively step out of her way. She breathed a small sigh of relief as she found what she was looking for through the dim lights of the house, a bathroom. She didn’t even know who was hosting the party, someone Molly knew, let alone the layout of the house. She pulled at the handle and it opened, thank god. She rushed inside and slammed the door behind her, hearing Obann’s fist hit with a hollow sound, “Yasha, love, get out here!” He said, still plenty smug but his voice was beginning to sound annoyed. Good.

She banged her own hand against the inside of the bathroom door. “Get fucking lost!” She shouted.

“You can’t stay in there all night, Yasha!” He called back, she could just imagine him leaning dramatically against the other side of the door and grinning to his friends.

She practically growled, “Watch me, asshole.” She leaned her head against the door and took a few deep breaths, she had gotten more upset than she’d meant to with him. She knew he was right, she couldn’t hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the night. She shut her eyes tightly, listening until she heard Obann’s retreat over the music blaring from the living room.

“Uh, hi?” Said a voice from behind her, Yasha spun around to face the owner of the awkward greeting. It was a woman, looking a little pale in the face as she kneeled next to the toilet. She looked like her skin was normally a nice olive tan and was still rather pretty, even with her hair falling haphazardly out of her bun. She wore skinny jeans and a grey checkered button-up, and her ears and face were adorned with several black and gold piercings.

“Sorry,” Yasha said immediately, not knowing what to do other than awkwardly rub at the back of her neck. “I didn’t realize— the door was unlocked,” she explained.

The woman waved Yasha off with a casual hand. “That’s my fault. I kinda had to run in here, too much to drink. That guy sounds like a dick,” she said bluntly.

Yasha sighed, lowering herself against the door until she was sitting on the cool tile of the bathroom floor too. The very thought of Obann, still nearby with his asshole friends, weighed down on her. It was a good thing he hadn’t made it into the bathroom, she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to stop herself from smashing his head against the sink. “He is,”

“Sucks,” the woman muttered, “I’m Beau, by the way.”

“Yasha,”

“So, was that dude just some random creep or do you know him?” Beau asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to answer, I was just wondering,”

“He’s my ex,” Yasha winced, “We dated for a few months, before I came out as a lesbian,”

“Oh, hey! Me too!”

Yasha smiled a little at that, it was nice to have that kinship with someone other than Molly for the first time in awhile. Her and Beau sat in silence for a moment, it teetered between awkward and comfortable but Yasha decided it was the best she could hope for from a stranger she was randomly trapped in a bathroom with.

“Did you come to this party with any friends?” Asked Beau.

“One, but I don’t know where he is and,” she held her phone out, clicking the power button to show the red low battery screen.

Beau shook her head sympathetically. “Well, I know actually the guy hosting the party, his name’s Fjord. He’d probably be okay with ending it early if you want?”

Yasha shook her head, the last thing she wanted was to be more of a bother. Getting some poor girl stuck in the bathroom with her was one thing, shutting down an entire party because she couldn’t handle seeing her ex was another. “No, no, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Okay, then how about we go grab food?” Said Beau.

“How? I can’t really leave,” she said, as much as it made her feel like a coward, though Molly and the therapist she had gone to for exactly two weeks both told her it shouldn’t. She really couldn’t handle seeing Obann, which had been fine when she believed she would never have to again, but apparently her bad luck had to follow her everywhere. Even to some party she hadn’t wanted to go to in the first place. 

“Window,” said Beau, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re kidding?” Yasha couldn’t help but stare, Beau had seemed simple enough at first glance but Yasha was getting the feeling she had when she first met Molly, like she had never met anyone like him before.

“Nope, it’s not even that hard to open or get through,”

“You’ve done it before?”

“Like I said, I know the host,”

“And you’re feeling well enough to do this?” Yasha asked incredulously, considering Beau had admitted to being sick before she arrived. 

“I feel great.” She said, pushing herself to her feet and making her way over to a window, blocked by curtains, that Yasha hadn’t noticed when she entered, “And now that I’ve thrown up a bunch, I need to get some food in me. You coming or not?”

Yasha hesitated before joining Beau on her feet, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do and food sounded good. She hadn’t gotten the chance to eat anything before running into Obann.

Beau grinned like she’d just won the lottery, it made Yasha’s stomach flutter slightly. She unlocked the window with a click, throwing it open and ducking out with the grace of someone who had practice escaping quickly through windows. Yasha followed, less practiced and having to fold herself far more than Beau, and pulled the window shut behind her.

Beau held out her phone as they crossed the lawn of the two story house and made their way down to the sidewalk, “You can use my phone to tell your friend where you’re going,” she said.

“Thanks,” Yasha took the already opened phone, looking at the background of Beau with a darker skinned man and woman. The man was tall and wearing a green flannel similar to the blue one around Yasha’s waist, he had amber eyes with a distinctive scar crossing one of them. The woman was chubby and shorter than Beau with freckles, holding up a peace sign and winking, she had bright blue hair and equally colorful clothing. A pink top and candy-like jewelry dangling from her ears and neck. Yasha swiped to messages, putting in Molly’s number and typing a quick text about going to get food with a girl she met at the party. She purposely left out the part of seeing Obann, knowing she would explain later if he asked.

She handed Beau back her phone and they continued down the street, even in the dark Yasha knew the area. Her and Molly had walked there from their apartment, which was the only reason she was comfortable leaving him.

“You know,” said Beau, “I bet your shitty ex came with Fjord’s shitty ex. They broke up on bad terms, but he invited her to clear the air or something. Personally, I think he just wanted to make sure she brought some of his stuff back.”

“Maybe,” Yasha agreed, “I wasn’t originally going to come but Molly, my friend, asked me to. I think he knows Fjord,”

“Oh yeah, Fjord’s mentioned him a few times but I’ve never met him. It’s too bad, maybe if I had I would’ve met you sooner,” she said smoothly.

Yasha huffed a laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is Fjord the guy in your phone background?” She asked, purposely ignoring the compliment though it would be a lie to say she hated it.

Beau didn’t seem discouraged, “Yeah, the girl is Jester, our other friend.”

“Was she at the party?”

Beau nodded, “Along with Caleb and Veth, some of our other friends. Caleb was probably just as reluctant to be there as you,”

Yasha felt a slight recognition at the name, “I think Molly has mentioned a Caleb before,” she said.

“Oh!” Beau said suddenly, “Is Molly the guy who got him that really stupid shirt for Hanakuah last year?”

“The one that said ‘Cat Daddy’ on it?”

“Yes!” Beau laughed, “His face when he opened it was the highlight of my night,”

Yasha chuckled at the memory of holiday shopping with Molly. They had mostly just been buying for each other, trying not to let the other one see, but he had been so excited to find the shirt, saying he had just the person in mind to give it to.

Beau and Yasha entered the fast food restaurant they had come across during their walk, ordering burgers and fries and taking a seat at one of the cheap plastic tables with their food. Beau ate like a starving woman and Yasha enjoyed her food as well. As the night came to an end, or rather morning began to rise, Beau passed her phone across the table back to Yasha.

“Can I have your number?” She asked, “You’re pretty cool and I’d like to take you somewhere nicer than the nearest fast food place.”

Yasha stared at the contacts screen, hesitating like she had at the window, for only a moment, before typing in her number. She placed a flower emoji next to her name and returned the phone.

Beau smiled at the screen and Yasha was really beginning to like when she smiled, “Thanks.” She said, “You good to get home?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yep. I hope to see you soon, Yasha.”

Yasha smiled and left the restaurant.

[ozbian]

Critters, it has been awhile since Travis' last TM ... so here's a bullet point summary of recent events

I know that a LOT of good good stuff happened last episode, but I don't want us to forget to ask about the older episodes!

(List is mostly cribbed from Critical Recap, tries to focus on major events and stuff most relevant to Fjord and Nott)

...

(Travis' last TM - post Ep 84, with Laura)

Ep 85 - The Threads Converge

Battle with the Inevitable End, following the assassination attempt on Caduceous in the previous episode

Pumat raises the possibility of dispel magic working on Yasha

Nott talks about how she feels wrong interacting with her family while disguised as Veth, and she doesn't feel like she's making a genuine connection

Confrontation with Gentleman about Jester's parentage. He denies it pretty coldly, Jester is upset, Cad smells something fishy

Fjord & the others comfort Jester

Caduceus manipulates the Gentleman by talking about his past and asking him to check on the Savalier Wood and his family

Nott and Beau tell each other about their crushes on Caleb and Jester Beau respectively

Jester confirms the Gentleman is her biological father and they have a sad and important conversation

Caleb disguises himself as Jester and collects her mail, they get Astrid's address

Jester scries on Yasha, they're in Rexxentrum

M9 port to Rexxentrum which is under Krynn attack

Caleb is back in Rexxentrum! He is not okay!

Caduceus is in the middle of a fuck-off massive city! He is also not okay, but less not okay than Caleb.

The M9 make their way through the krynn attack until they arrive at the temple.

Ep 86 - The Cathedral

Fight with the cultists and the Cardinal, Nott kills the Cardinal

Laughing Hand and Yasha arrive, Inevitable End also arrives, Yasha nearly kills Beau

Nott is mindwhammied

Yasha is freed!!!

Obann retreats taking Nott

Pumat Swole offers to stay behind to hold off the cultists while they chase Obann and the M9 reluctantly agree

Guilty short rest

Fjord says he'll take Yasha up on some of her grief and regret and hits her for 19 damage to regain 9 hp

The M9 eventually figure out how to get into the secret chambers

They find Nott awaiting their arrival, Caduceus dispels magic and frees her, Obann's attempted ambush fails and he disappears from sight until Fjord casts Faery Fire, Fjord gets mindwhammied and walked into one of the sacrifice pillars. Caduceus frees his mind but doesn't have enough movement left to get him out of the pillar, Fjord steps free next turn

Yasha gets the hdywtdt on Obann and rips off his wings

The M9 see Obann transformed into Punished form by his evil god ... there are tentacles and teeth and eyes

Ep 87 - Punishment and Politics

Caleb gets swallowed but he cool-ape mans out of it

Caduceus gets swallowed (again) and since everyone's shrouded in darkness no one knows

Beau goes down

Jester is down. No healers...

Fjord nearly takes Obann down

Kadogeist gets the hdywtdt!

Caduceus mass deals and offers to hug the Kadogheist...

Pumat is relatively okay but Nott gives him a potion

Fjord touches the Laughing Hand's body and it poofs into ash, he covers by saying "Let the winds take you to your place of rest" and Caduceus compliments him

M9 are held not under arrest and Caleb is not okay, Fjord checks in

Yasha is updated on happenings incl Fjord's voice change

Meeting with Dwendal (& Allura), Beau implies to Dwendal that she used M9 to get in with the Dynasty & specifically comments on traveling with goblins and half-orcs (and caduceus!) (clearly using the King's prejudice to manipulate him)

Dwendal threatens the M9 with treason against the empire notwithstanding half of them don't even go here?

Parlay with the Dynasty is possible!?

Trent is an asshole and the M9 form up protectively around Caleb when he approaches them

Ep 88 - Unwanted Reunions

Kameruth Cottage!

Fjord gives Yasha the book that Caleb gave to him : )

Caduceus inadvertently inspires the M9 to plot Trent's murder to keep Caleb safe

M9 also plot for world peace

Fjord and Clay talk about honesty and camouflage, and Clay gives him the Wild Mother symbol he crafted at the Force

Yasha dreams of the Storm Father

Meeting with Martinet Ludinus, Jester is charming af, Ludinus politely holds Yasha's potential prosecution over the M9

Meeting with Trent and Eodwulf, Caleb is not okay but he holds his own anyway, Nott fishes for info

Shopping for diamonds and bone instruments

Fjord wants a tournament

(Sam's last TM - post Ep 88, with Liam)

Ep 89 - Lingering Wounds

Downtime

Nott and Fjord continue to walk through the capital city of the Empire undisguised, Fjord proudly wearing his WM symbol

Yasha reads her book from Fjord

Jester messages people

Caleb takes Fjord and Nott by the academy and talks about his past

Beau does a deep lore dive into Empire history

Jester offers to help Fjord with his work out like Beau does, Fjord gives himself a hernia

Jester and Beau have an important conversation, Beau gives Jester Molly's tarot cards

Caleb goes off on his own and talks to Astrid

Fight Club!

Beau beats up a fit older guy

Fjord and Darrow fight with weapons, fjord using his new blade

Darrow remarks that Fjord's been getting into weird stuff, Darrow goes pretty hard and seems to feels a bit bad about it later, Caduceus doesn't cancel a crit, Fjord goes down, Darrow brings him back to consciousness and is too nice about winning, Fjord snaps at the healer who comes out to tend to him and goes to get a drink

Yasha intentionally gets beat into unconsciousness and tries to play it off, Caduceus and Jester are Concerned

Episode 90 - Bathhouses and Bastions

M9 plot and plan their day,

Fjord asks Beau about her workout routine and carb loading

Clay remarks that Trent was telling the truth very carefully

Fjord has a spa day, M9 are supportive, Jester offers up her hair growth solution to assist with his beard endeavours

To the library!

Jester looks into Molly's tarot deck, lore drop!

Clay tries to find out how he should comport himself at a Traveller Convention, there's not much there but he found out it's happening on the longest day of the year

Beau and Caleb go digging for info on uncovered beacon

Nott helps Caleb break through his research, he comments that Nott's husband is a lucky man, Nott checks in, she offers support with Astrid and Caleb doesn't tell her about his visit, long hug : )

Fjord meets up with the party after the spa and asks for feedback from the M9 who are complementary: -

Yasha: your skin looks quite beautiful

Clay: you're glowing

Jester: it looks like you've got a little stubble coming in there

Shopping, Yasha & Jester get their commissions

Traveller doesn't appear and Jester is worried

Group Spa Day!

Party meet up with Darrow, Jester invites him to the Bathhouse and Nott encourages this (is she trying to matchmake with Darrow and Fjord or did she think he was hot and want some eye candy or both or neither??

M9 bamph outta the Bathhouse to Xhorhas in bathrobes

Fjord insists on changing into his normal clothes while everyone else walks on as is - Caleb pranks Fjord using illusion

Meeting with Essek, he is in so deep with the M9, they plot

Dynasty has found a traitor, the Taskhand, Fjord disguises himself as Vence to try and get some info, dude was clearly under some kind of mind control

Meeting with BQ, Caleb is very eloquent, Clay is very honest, Nott is very intently staring at Yasha when the M9 talk about their unnamed formerly mindcontrolled friend, Yasha is very brave

Essek is in very deep with the M9

Essek is invited to dinner but declines : (

[empty-dream]

Just watched 13 Reasons Why S4

Ended up making a full blown commentary per episode because this is finally the last season and I’ve been enjoying this mess since S1. I even forgot that it was released until a friend brought it up to me. So in short,

Ep1

OKAY WHO DIES AGAIN HUH??

Clay, narrating: *I'm good at hiding shits so my parents don't notice at all." His parents: *concernedly looking at him pale and mushing food on the dining table*

The concequences of investigating murder cases and creating conspiracies instead of studying your ass off because it's a damn school really caught up huh.

Charlie holy shit I love you he's so chill and good.

It's been years I still can't believe Justin is really adopted by the Jensens. Funny that now the table is reversed, with Justin finally actually doing better and taking care of the increasingly-ill Clay.

SCOTT!! OH MY GOD! SCOTT REED!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIIITTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAAA!!!

Wow my headcanon is approved, he already graduated by S3. No reason he didn't hang out with the gang after all the shits in S2 if he was no longer around in the first place.

He's still so nice even in Clay's trippy nightmare. Is that what Clay remembers about him? Well not really surprising, considering Scott actually was worried about him in S2.

Good god finally Clay meets a therapist- Wait a minute that's the guy from CSI:NY?!?! Isn't Clay just gonna get clobbered instead.

Okay I knew they are really close and I do adore their relationship so much but HOLY SHIT THEY ACTUALLY GO AT IT WITH ALEX AND ZACH???

Alex: *panicking over the kiss* Zach: Ayy don't worry let's just continue perhaps-suicidally hanging out on dangerous rooftops that you were almost fall to your death from. Alex: ????

Ep2

That narration of Clay ranting about college applications. I'll drink to that bruh.

Ya I too make my applications and other supposedly important matters at 3AM instead of any other more sensible time.

Oh my fucking god that is the creepiest smile I've ever see.

I feel like as Justin gets better and better with his life, Clay goes worse.

Justin is so excited about going to college! You deserve the future man. 

The old-time stoners and drunkards are rehabbed or dead. Enter Zach.

Winston: *eyes and ears up to your shit 24/7*

Nobody likes Tyler in S1 but now everybody likes him.

Okay. Cops doing shit jobs at protecting. This feels too real with this situation right now.

Clay's adventure to put the trash into the trash bin.

Omg they got the paint to the lab this is going real CSI.

Idk about u but at this point I don't exactly want to pay attention to Jessica/Justin problems anymore.

I know Zach and Clay don't get along and that's why I need their adventure together.

Clay drunk-puking on Justin. Well well well how the turntables.

The return of Monet!!

"I have 2.8. If I work hard, I'll get 2.9" Winston omg same.

Tht held gaze between Alex and Winston.. Is this slow burn fanfiction???????

Yes Mr. CSI it will definitely get worse.

I know writing about your feelings can make you feel better but probably not in your college essay form.

Ep3

I'm starting to think Clay is the one who dies in the end? Idk tho.

I guess the toll of busting ass trying to save everyone by yourself is catastrophically high, huh, Clay? Funny that he now goes from 100 in S3 to 0 in here and that's actually realistic.

Alex and Winston are really pining each other with Zach in the background lmao.

"You don't wanna go on the Valentine Dance with me? Even as friends?" Well sometimes there are moments when you just don't go back to being friends. It's an actual normal thing.

And besides the last time Alex goes with Jess for something she wanna do, he ends up murdering somebody. So.

"Hey Zach. Hey punch me. Hey you pussy now? Hey hey. Bitch." *poke* *poke* *poke*

No Zach he's trying to save all of your asses. You can't just say that.

Charlie is really just there trying to do his best in this shitshow and like Justin I wanna laugh but also am proud.

Everyone: *being paranoid and unto each other* Alex and Winston: *having the date of their life*

I wish everyone doesn't have this level of trust issues but then again we won't have a shitstorm drama like this.

When did this become "what is love?" philosophy class?

"You know love but you love so fiercely and sometimes it hurts."Wow Mr. CSI you hit the mark.

How many parties can the Liberty High hold in a year?

"You go with Charlie to get back to Justin, right?" Wow Diego you HIT the mark.

I still have problems with Ani as a character, but I do like her casual banters with Clay.

You know, with all these trust issues, I'm surprised nobody actually tries to peek on other's phone. Like, I know that's low. But, you know, faster solution. And better than having mass hallucinations.

Oh God the football team really is a bunch of jerks. Good fucking thing Scott is outta here.

Alex and Winston almost die like couples in a cheap slasher movie.

"Fuck Love." Clay Jensen, 2019 (according to the movie timeline)

Ep4

Why is Charlie talking? Why is he wearing the football jersey? Who on earth dies?? Is it Zach? Justin? Somebody else from the football team? But the content of your speech man...

Ah yeah. Clay did survive a great big deal of many ugly shits. Single-handedly thanks to adrenaline, mostly.

Jess got a point tho. Ani could have followed Clay to stop him, by herself or with the gang. What did she do? She spied on Winston and Alex, and then went back to the dance. So much for handling anything themselves.

Or maybe, the gang shouldn't have let Ani and Clay take care of it themselves.

Does anybody in this show ever figure out Clay has dead people hallucinations?

Domestic Jensen family is my everything.

Charlie really out there bribing Zach with his homemade cookies I-

Ah yeah, I kinda forgot that in reality Alex and Winston have a really difficult situation. With Bryce and Monty stuff.

"Looking back on your time at Liberty, do you have any regrets?" Really? Isn't that all they have?

"Who do you trust most in your life and why?" Everybody: *immediately side-eyeing each other*

Clay c'mon wtf Justin is really just worried sick and trying to help you. Aaand he's gone.

Jess you don't put your hands into something without checking it first...

Why would you only send 2 adults to supervise 30-50 kids on a camping wildlife trip? They wouldn't be able to do shit.

"I thought you were a football player!" "I AM a football player! And so are YOU!" Gold.

Dream!Monty and Dream!Clay really sit like that and I almost laugh were it not for the fact that I do that too. It's strange to see that for once, they talk normally, heart-to-heart, without the usual snickering, chiding, all that venom.

Oh shit they really make Monty and Clay mirror each other like that. They both protect people they love but have tendencies to snap, one way or another.

Zach, dude, I know you've been a real good friend. But Alex almost died. Twice. Because of your drunken ways. And you laughed. Didn't you spend an entire season trying hard to not let him die again? What's wrong with you?

When did this become a horror movie?

The Standalls :((

CHARLIE MY MAN WITH HIS COOKIES. And incidentally, a wild Zach appears.

"So are we gonna fall apart or trust each other now!" Justin my man.

Clay dude that would have been an amazing entrance were it not for the fact you looked insane.

I can't fucking believe they just go normally at campfire like that. Two people almost died. Several got beaten. What the fuck.

Does it come from the bottom of your heart or it doubles as a threat, Clay?

Alex you had us at the first half not gonna lie.

GR A NO LA CA MP C O OKIES? ??

Wait. So who has been fucking around with the football team? Who moved Clay?? Huh??

Ep5

GUYS THERE IS A THING CALLED GPS ON THE PHONE?? What are you? 3?

Justin finally breaking down after 5 episodes being the most decent and healthy person around. Well Charlie is too but he's new, so.

Finally an obligatory meeting at Monet.

CYRUS AND THE PUNK GANG!!! God I love you guys where have you been. And you guys are computer geeks?!?!?! Perfect.

My question exactly, Clay. Good replies tho, Cy.

I'm still thinking how for a nerd, Clay knows A LOT of people and knows who to ask what.

"How am I even friends with you?" Ya Alex that's my question too. How are you suddenly bff with Zach? I don't remember you two being close in S1?

Hm. If you aren't holding his family at stake, there is no way Tony would even think to rat out.

Mr. CSI starts going CSI on Clay.

I almost forgot Charlie's last name is St. George. The cast goes by Charlie mostly so.

Justin really shows up at the party with the angry mom pose and disappointed look at Clay. The turntable, people. Flynn's voice got raspy.

Oh no no Clay you don't go there. Please don't split my Jensen-Foley brothers like that. Meanwhile the punk gang be like just watching there.

C O O KI E S??? Goddamn Charlie do you bring cookies everywhere you go??

Charlie my boy you T_T I was kinda suprised that the cookie baking actually had a sad backstory.

Clay-Zach bonding that I fucking wish for oh yeah. I definitely didn't expect it with piano and drunk singing tho.

While Clay is having the time of his life, Tony is seeing life flashes in his eyes.

Yassss he winssss!!!!

Caleb's expression when the sherrif hugs him lmfao

Nice try Sherrif but Tony knows your tricks.

"What of any of this is okay?" Wow things you'd never hear Justin says in S1.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Alex are high on weed cookies as fuck. Their conversation is the most interesting thing I've seen beside the Scott cameo till now.

The look on Justin's face when Clay pushes him :((

MY DUDES HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ABOUT JEFF'S DEATH? WHAT HE WAS ACCUSED FOR?! You do not, under any circumstances, drive drunk.

Ep6

Clay be spitting truth.

They really be discussing Clay's chronic hero syndrome huh.

Okay. Operation Clay-Zach failed.

Weren't Zach all fuck it all yeah! kinda guy? Guess when you are the one who faces death it's not that fun anymore huh.

"One Clay Jensen is enough" Jess truth.

Do Alex and Charlie really study Spanish in front of Tony who is not helping at all? That would be embarrassing lmao.

Clay: Fuck off. Hallucination!Monty: *sits next to him*

Gotta hand it to Timothy Granaderos. He could go venomous to puppy eyed in 1 second. Amazing.

Man. School shootings are fucked up. There are many things I wonder about mankind and one of them is why is school shooting even possible?

Hallucination!Bryce: Hi I’m sorry I’m late. I hear this is time for Clay’s dead people hallucination party.

"Are you a hero or a martyr?" Wow they really throw the question.

And here is Clay sitting under the desk between his two most hated dead people hallucinations whispering moral dilemmas to him.

Meanwhile Winston and Zach got high.

Charlie helping Alex to breath.

The talk with Estella and Tyler.

"No offense, you are cool, but I don't wanna die with you." Zach chill lmao.

Are.. Are you sure outing that to Winston is a good call, Zach? For a guy who was super paranoid that his gang would narc him, he sure is loose mouthed himself.

I like how everyone from Tyler to Zach to Winston, admits that Alex is a really kind guy.

Wow Tony did you really expect anyone could do anything in that situation, in fucking Evergreen situation, for that matter?

Charlie is a great friend wow.

Cl-CLAY DON'T GO OUT that is EXACTLY what you are NOT supposed to do!!!

Goddamnit Clay. Holy shit Clay. 

Dylan Minnette really worked hard in this scene.

.......... WAIT A MINUTE IT'S NOW ACTUALLY CHARLIE ALEX????? Tony be just walking in.

Ep7

Clay really got into a psych ward. Talk about darkest hour. And it’s only ep 6?

Wow Ty that's some brave lines.

Which hallucination-induced person is Clay talking to before Ani gets there?

Ok that therapy session made me tear up.

These kids are having college interviews at the worst time possible. They are all fucking breaking down one way or another.

And Charlie just, really never gives up on Alex huh.

What's most important to Clay is his friends. Real quick to answer that question huh.

God Justin lashing out at the Jensens. It's the first time he does it and it hurts.

Zach holy fuck. I appreciate you didn't out it but holy fuck you didn't have to do that are you trying to die

Clay-Tony combo is back baby I miss them so much. Although perhaps Tony you would mind a bit about Clay's health because clearly he was out of it.

This is so short. I too really don't like application essays and interviews and the inevitable revisit of the sadder parts of my life because of them.

Ep8

When did this become sci-fi apocalyptic story?

God I miss the time when Clay's dreams are just Inception-styled trippy shit with Scott randomly says hello and gets him water.

Okay. Everyone's got their own way to cope with existential and moral crisis huh.

You know what, I would like one movie out of this sci-fi dream.

I knew it Tyler was a bait to smoke out illegal gun dealers. Is that... An okay thing to do for a high schooler? Sounds fucked up, all things considered.

Yaaay Justin's got the college! I'm super happy!

Wow Estella good question.

Wow Tyler good statement. If they trust each other a bit more, everything would have been a bit better.

Ah shit. Justin relapses again.

Does Tony need to be pummelled first before he finally goes all off to finish his opponent or what?

Is this going Big Brother Is Watching

What the fuck. That locker fight scene is disgusting.

Jess and Clay might throw shades at each other but together they share one brain cell.

"I think it's a walkout, Sir" Tyler lmao

Wow Zach and Alex heart-to-heart.

Cyrus really steps on some pedestal to make his point.

Aaand Zach and Alex really go all out on "doing it right" huh.

They really have students vs cops riot at this time. Talk about timing.

It's nice to see the punk gang enjoying the fighting again.

Dude what happens if you don't have anything on your bag tho.

Aaaah the punk gang with Tyler again!!

"Why are you with me and not with Charlie?" Zach ouch that hurts.

Zach no no no Zach get out of there too Zach pls

Clay really becomes 2nd in command to Jess huh.

Charlie tries to save Clay but gets whacked on the head instead. 

Tony you came back!! Oh so that college scout was.. Oh.

Oh shit Clay. Oh. Shit. I should have realized that. Goddamn.

Ep9

"I like sleep." Charlie me too. 

God Alex and Charlie literally sleep together jaldjwaownaljewoalsj that some cute shit.

Wow Clay really takes Mr. CSI's advice to round up the gang and confesses. That's a step.

Charlie sometimes has a good idea, huh.

The Jensens meeting is probably the reason why the idea of parenthood scares me.

Also Clay and Justin really put the practice of "tell the parents the less-harsh-but-still-harsh truth, then ask them to get prom back" by the book. And it's awkward.

Aww Charlie coming out to his dad and the response he gets... When you put the rich fams like Dempseys, Walkers and Saint Georges together, the last one is really the only healthy one huh.

Way to go Jess!

Ah I forgot Alex has an older brother.

Aaaahhh Charlie has dinner with the Standalls! Their reaction is so sweet!

"Does he make you happy?" "Yeah. A lot." AHDKWJWOAKDUWLAOEL I mean after everything that has happened to Alex, man I am so happy he can say that with a fond smile.

WHAT THE FUCK HAHAHAHHA CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT LMFAO I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST AN TRIPPY ANIMATED IMAGINATION THING and Alex is so done with his extra shit.

Wow Ani you do karaoke good, asking Jess out even better.

OH MY GOD IT ESCALATED. Also Alex is right that one is creepy Charlie.

I thought by special doughnut Caleb means some diet-related stuff fit to Tony's menu for fighting. Why didn't I expect a literal Will You Go To Prom doughnuts?

CHARLIE PLEASE STOP AHAHAHAHA you dumb rich kid where did you get all those lamps and prop candles.

"Would you love me any less?" Aww Clay knows Justin loves him.

"You three all look adorable" Ya Jess, same.

Tony really out there doing the "I'm here because he's here" to Caleb.

Clay, Alex, and Charlie be like judging Zach hard.

Oh right that one kid from Cyrus's gang is gay and he brought his boyfriend!

Zach: You two sitting here like it's a funeral. Also Zach: *proceeds to continue sitting as well*

"We deserve to live." Finally something from Zach's mouth that I can agree for this season.

I love that Tony and Caleb are such good friends to Clay.

And now it's Winston turn for dead people hallucination.

..... The door to the other side again.. :'''((

CHARLIE AND ALEX WON THE PROM KINGS AAAAAAHHHHHH I mean with all those extra efforts, it'd be hard to not to. And there goes Alex finally giving in to dance.

I don't like Luke the football guy when he's the enemy but I like him when he's a friend. He's a hype man lmao.

Alex I'm so happy for you man. I'm glad you are finally happy. My heart was tight at the dance part .

Everyone: *dances* Clay: *sits there, monologuing philosophically*

I like that Clay and Ani finally being honest that they don't fit each other romantically. As romance goes there is not much romantic tension between them. And they have way too many flawed traits that when paired, would turn the relationship sour and possibly toxic in the end.

Justin do u like to show up and make everyone step aside for you or what.

I like that Clay was just watching from a distance. Then at last minute decided to join the crowd with his mother, whom he had a few trust issues with in all seasons.

Charlie: "Foundry's gay?!" Alex: "Mind's blown" Me: Same.

There has been nothing wrong going on in one episode, aside from the Zach one that's timely stopped by Charlie and Alex. I'm suspicious.

Ah. Yes. Of course.

Oh my god Justin's the one dead huh?

Ep10

Oh thank God he hasn't died. Yet.

Oh God Justin no. No no no.

Get your shit together Zach. Even Charlie tells you that.

No no no not like this not after everything oh god.

Somebody would you actually please run after Clay too.

Oh my god Clay.

Oh my god Alex you. Even when he admits it to Winston, he still covers for Jess. I- oh god.

It's been only 15 minutes and it hurts.

Charlie and Alex, the moms of the group.

You know, for a guy who says he doesn't love Justin, Alex gives a lot of shit about him. I guess you can still be around people you don't like?

I know the kiss is huge news Charlie but that's not the issue here lmao.

Zach: *hugs Clay* Clay: ????? Alex and Charlie: ?????? Zach: *pats Tyler's head* *leans on Clay*

The Padillas :''')

Clay Jensen. Class speaker. Wow.

Yeah Mr. CSI's voice is really calm, rather chilling, actually.

"You've looked at death too many times for a young person." Damn right Mr. Jensen.

Ah so that's the reason why Zach stole that letter. Makes sense, emotionally.

You know, I did say Idc anymore about Justin/Jessica problems but when it gets to this point, I can't not care.

So many people come to the hospital...

Clay and Justin's talk. I'm sorry I can't hold it in anymore. I'm fucking sobbing at this moment.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead just like his mom. But he died not in the same way. He died holding his bro's hand. He died surrounded by his family. He died with people who loved him around.

"After everything, this is how it ends." Fucck

DID HE HAVE TO DIE??? DID JUSTIN FOLEY-JENSEN HAVE TO DIE?? Did you really have to put yet another sucker punch in the last episode of the season?? Yeah I know real kids and people do die from AIDS but really? After a whole season of Clay screaming kids wants to live to the point he lost his mind???

I spent the entire funeral screen crying. I couldn't even scream again when Scott is present in the funeral. I know he'd be there but god I can't right now.

Mr. CSI sure knows super effective ways to make Clay react.

"If Justin's dead, the none of the rest of it matters. " Clay..

He opens up.

Oh yeah I forgot Charlie is a junior.

AAAA COURTNEY AND RYAN ARE HERE!!! I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!!

SCOTTTTT!!!!!! And CHLOE TOO!! It’s nice that they come together. But they aren’t like, together, right? I mean if he is her boyfriend she would say his name right away to Zach instead of a mere ‘would you like to meet him? He’s outside.’

These 4 are such good friends to attend their friends’ graduation ceremony.

The punk guys in toga are so... Refreshing to look. Such hype men.

"It's easy to hate. It's easy to fear. It's goddamn hard to love. But it's not optional. It's essential." Jessica Davis, everybody.

Jeff, Hannah and Justin really died in the span of 2 years. Add to that is Bryce and Monty, whose deaths left uncountable traumas on top of existing traumas. Yeah. It was hellish time.

Scott’s proud small smile when Clay gives his speech. Im love.

"Choose to live. Even on the worst day, life is a pretty spectacular thing." Clay Jensen, everybody.

Ma boi Zach really teared up at Clay's speech. 

Luke and one of the punk kids talking about some geek thing I am not familiar with I-

“No offense Luke. You’ve got great arm but you haven’t been known for your brain.” PETER That BURNS LMAO

Poor Winston just being alone. OH HELLO RYAN YOU ARE FAST.

Zach is gonna study music! Nice foreshadowing since he plays a lot of music this season.

Clay having a gratitude moment with his parents and Scott be like munching cupcakes in the background.

Oh god Hannah ...

Wow the old tape gang is here!! The nostalgia hurts.

They bury the tapes on the same hill again asdfwosaiofai.

Kinda salty Sheri and Scott aren’t here. But then again I guess back then Scott was just helping Clay and co when he could and mostly minding his own business. HOWEVER isn’t Sheri like in the tape and pretty prominent too :(( Like she was really cool with Clay (despite the whole guilt over Jeff), tried to make amends and really helped with the polaroid cases.

Also you can't just insert Scott in Clay's dream and then not have them interact in the end. The dream was such a perfect bait. Like we know at least they apparently get along well.

Everything in Jessica’s final conversation with her Bryce hallucination. Everything in it.

Ryan: “Gordon Lightfoot?” Ha Ryan you miss a whole lot of drama.

Fuck I'm tearing up again at Justin's essay. He deadass makes an entire essay about Clay and how he is his savior I- 

Oh my god they end it exactly like S1 with Tony and Clay riding away. They are really each other’s ride or die.

That’s it. It’s over. It’s been a long trainwreck. So the 2019 class graduates, so does Justin, they are doing uni right now and keeping in touch with everyone. Bye.

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Asylum (1.10)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: The siblings are sent on a hunt by an unknown number, a crazy doctor gets his hands on Sam, and things go downhill for Dean and Olive very fast

Warnings: mental asylum, crying, cursing, guns, threats, etc

Word Count: 7385

“No. Dad was in Cali last we heard from him. We just thought, since he goes to you for munitions…” I sighed deeply. “Maybe you’d heard from him in the last few weeks… Just… please call us if you hear anything.”

“Will do.”

I sighed again. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you bet.”

“Caleb hasn’t heard from him?” Dean looked up as I flipped the phone shut.

“Nope. Sams?” I turned to him, tears welling in my eyes.

Sam only shook his head. “Neither has Jefferson. Or Pastor Jim.”

“De, what about the journal? Any leads in there?” I tried to hold back my breath.

“No. Same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out… I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frigging Yoda.” Dean scowled.

Sam sighed and put his arm up, offering the space. I ignored him, instead standing at the base of the bed, arms crossed over my chest.

“Maybe we should call the Feds.” He sighed. “File a missing person’s report.”

“We’ve talked about this.” Dean shook his head. “Dad would be so pissed if we put the Feds on his tail.”

I scowled, tears now dropping down the curve of my nose. “You know what Dean, who cares anymore?”

His phone buzzed, but I kept going.

“After what happened in Kansas? He should’ve been there, Dean! You even said it yourself!”

“Ollie, I know!” Dean scoffed as he rummaged through his duffel bag. “Where the hell is my cell phone?”

“You know, Olive’s right. He could be dead for all we know.”

“Don’t say that!” Dean turned, angry. “He’s not dead! He’s-he’s…”

“He’s what, Dean? He’s hiding? Busy?” I shouted, seeing spit fly out.

“Olive, stop!” Dean screamed back at me, chest heaving with his phone in his grip.

My shoulders fell and I let myself cry. Dean’s face softened and he sighed, shaking his head, trying to say something. I sighed, staring at Dean and feeling betrayed.

“Dean, where the hell is he?” I sniffled. “Where’s the hell’s Dad?”

Dean sighed. “Ollie, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, but he isn’t dead.”

He flicked his phone open, looking away from me. I dropped onto the floor, leaning back against the bed. Sam came to the foot of the bed and gripped my by the waist, pulling me onto the bed with him.

“It’s okay.” He whispered.

I snorted before leaning against him.

“Huh.” Dean scoffed. “I don’t believe it.”

“What happened?”

“It’s, uh… it’s a text message. It’s coordinates.”

                                                         ***

“Do you think Dad was texting us?” I whispered.

I was sitting next to Dean. I hadn’t raised my voice above a whisper since this morning. I was stressed and sad, and I missed Dad and I wanted things to go back to normal. Dean was still angry, upset with me because I had lost it, because we said Dad could be dead.

“He’s given us coordinates before.”

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“Sam, it’s good news! It means he’s okay. Or alive at least.”

“Was there a number on the caller ID?”

“Nah, it said unknown.”

I sighed. “Well where do the coordinates point?”

“That’s the interesting point. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Okay, and that’s interesting how?”

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” Dean shifted the computer toward us. “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

Sam and I looked at each other, confused.

“Okay, I’m not following. What does this have to do with us?”

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” Dean flipped through the pages. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths-till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

I took another deep breath and sighed. “This is just another job. Dad just wants us to work a job.”

“Well maybe we’ll meet up with him. Maybe he’s there.” Dean offered.

“Maybe he’s not, Dean. I mean, he could just be sending us there. By ourselves, to hunt this thing.”

“You know what, Olive? Who the hell cares? If Dad wants us there, it’s good enough for me!”

I rolled my eyes, and Sam stepped in.

“This doesn’t strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?”

“Guys! Dad’s telling us to go somewhere. We are going.” He hissed. “End of fucking story.” He slammed the laptop shut and stormed into the bathroom.

Sam and I looked at each other again. I sighed and sunk into my seat.

“This is fucking bullshit, Sam.” I rubbed my face.

“It’s gonna be okay, bug.”

                                                           ***

“We’ll be back soon, okay?” Sam brushed my hair behind my ear.

“Keep the doors locked.” Dean ordered as he slammed his door.

I sighed. “Be careful. Please.”

Sam nodded. “Always.”

                                                           ***

I watched as Dean stormed out of the bar. I sighed and got out of the car.

“No Dad?”

He sighed and shook his head. “No Dad.”

“Dean, I’m sorry.” I shuddered out.

He sighed and his shoulders dropped. He shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry.” He held his arms open. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

I wrapped my arms around him and whimpered.

“I’m sorry, De, I’m just scared. I’m so fucking scared. It’s just that Dad’s never gone this long, a-and Sam’s right. It feels like something really big is starting. I’m so scared.” I let out a sob.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I yelled.” He brushed a hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” I whispered. “It’s okay.”

He squeezed me. “I love you too.”

I shuddered. “Aren’t you cold?”

He snorted. “Yeah. Let’s get in the car.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

                                                          ***

“Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy.” Dean scowled as Sam ducked into the car.

“I had to sell it, didn’t I? It’s method acting.” Sam shrugged.

“What?” I asked, confused.

Sam shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What did you find out from Gunderson?” I asked, shaking my head.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.”

“What about at home?” Dean asked.

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.”

I snorted. “Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or-”

“Something else did this to him.”

“Exactly.”

“What’d Gunderson tell you about the asylum?”

Sam’s eyes widened. “A lot.”

                                                          ***

I sighed as we stared up at the fence.

“Okay. I’m not gonna lie. This is a terrible idea.” I shook my head.

Dean shrugged. “Best we got.”

Sam shook his head and got on one knee. “Alright, bug. Up you go.”

                                                          ***

“So apparently the cops chased the kids here… into the south wig.” Sam pointed to the door labeled.

“South wing, huh? Wait a second. 1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.” Dean read from the journal.

“So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it.” I sighed.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?”

Spelunking? What is this, a 90s sitcom with an angry dad?

I blinked as Sam looked around and tutted.

“Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could’ve been chained up for years.”

“Yeah, to keep people out.” I shrugged.

“Or to keep something in.” Dean raised his eyebrows.

We sighed as we looked at each other. Dean pushed me closer to Sam, keeping himself behind me. Sam opened the door and we followed him through.

                                                          ***

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean teased.

“Dude, enough.” Sam scowled.

“I’m serious. You gotta be careful, alright? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.”

“I told you, it’s not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.” Sam hissed.

I giggled. “Sammy’s got bad vibes.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“You get any reading on that thing or not, Ol?” Sam asked, nodding to the EMF meter in my hand.

I shook my head. “Nah. Doesn’t mean nobody’s home though.”

“Spirits can’t appear during certain hours of the day.” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah. The freaks come out at night.” Dean snorted.

Dean grabbed my arm and I froze, fully attentive. He nodded toward Sam.

“Hey Sam. Who do you think is the hottest psychic? Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?”

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed Dean into me. Dean snorted a laugh and I squirmed away from him and to Sam’s side, clinging to his arm.

                                                          ***

Sam pushed a door open, and the rusted hinges screamed. I flinched, and Sam sighed as he led the way through. Dean was right behind me, and he let out a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo’s Nest.” Dean made another reference I was too young to understand as he made crazy eyes at Sam.

Sam ignored him and Dean dropped his smile, now pouting.

“So whatcha guys think? Ghosts possessing people?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. Or many it’s more like Amityville, or the Smurl haunting.”

I shivered. Amityville scared the hell out of me, and I was never sold on the Smurl haunting.

Dean nodded. “Spirits driving them crazy. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.”

Sam sighed. “Dean. When are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Dean looked around, confused.

I sighed. “He means that Dad’s not here.”

Dean snorted from the back of his nose. “Oh. I see. How ‘bout… never.”

“I’m being serious, man. He sent us here.”

“So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We’ll pick up the search later.”

I sighed. I could feel the tension in the air rising, and I knew what was about to happen. Dean would imply Sam leaving because of Dad, he would mention that he didn’t try as hard, Sam would get pissy and say he wanted answers and it wasn’t his fault for wanting to have a normal life. It would turn into a war, and Dean would be Dad’s loyal soldier while Sam would go rogue.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants.” Sam hissed again.

I sighed again. Here it went.

“See. That attitude right there? This is why I always get the extra cookie.”

“Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for him! We deserve answers, Dean. I mean, this is our fucking family we’re talking about.”

“I understand that Sam, but he’s given us an order.”

Sam scoffed. “So what, we gotta always follow Dad’s orders?”

“Of course we do.”

Sam opened his mouth to rip something else out, but Dean turned around, ending the conversation.

I sighed a third time, feeling my nose and eyes burn.

“Sanford Ellicott…” Dean read off a sign. “You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here.” He shoved the sign into Sam’s hand and pranced away.

I wrapped my arms around myself and sighed. Sam was angry, lip raised into a snarl and nose twitching.

“Let’s just go.” He scowled.

                                                          ***

“Let me do it.” I perked up.

Dean and Sam turned to me, confused. Ellicott’s son was a therapist nearby. We needed to get more information, and undercover as a patient was the best shot we had.

“Are you sure, baby girl?” Dean’s eyebrows furrowed.

I nodded. “Yeah, I can do it. I-I’m just a kid. They can take me in with your consent because you’re basically my dad, but it might be a little more difficult with Sam.”

“Olive…” Sam trailed off, concerned.

I grinned. “I can do it, Sams. I promise.”

                                                          ***

“Olive Winchester?”

I looked up from the magazine. The door was open, and a man with glasses was standing in it with a clipboard.

“That’s me.” I stood.

“Come on in.” He stepped aside, letting me follow him into the room.

“Thank you so much for seeing me last minute.” I sat down on the couch, looking around the room. “Dr. Ellicott. Ellicott… that name. Wasn’t there a… a Dr. Sanford Ellicott? Chief psychiatrist somewhere.”

He nodded. “My father was a chief of staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum.” He tilted his head. “How did you know that?”

I shrugged. “My older brother is sorta a local history buff… Hey, wasn’t there… an incident or something? In the hospital, I guess. In the south wing, right?”

“We’re here on your dollar, Olive. We’re here to talk about you.”

“Actually, we’re here on my brother’s dollar.

“So. How’s things?”

“Ah…” I sighed. “Things are good, doc.”

“Good.” He nodded, crossing one leg over the other. “What have you been up to?”

I shrugged again. “Same old. On a road trip with my older brothers.”

“Was that fun?”

I cracked all my knuckles and blew air from my mouth. “Lots. Um… you know, we uh… we met a lot of interesting people.” I let my inner child out and blew a raspberry. “Yeah, no, I’m sorry. What was it exactly what happened in the south wing?”

“Look, if your brother is a local history buff, he knows all about the Roosevelt riot.”

“The riot… No, he never told me. I’m curious.”

“Olive. Let’s cut the bull, shall we? You’re avoiding the subject.”

“What subject?” I tilted my head.

“You. Now I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you about the Roosevelt riot if you tell me something about yourself. Like, uh, these brothers you’re road tripping with. How do you feel about them?”

I scratched at the back of my neck. “Uh… well, let’s see… I was like… less than a week old when my mother dropped me on a motel doorstep. Sam was… seven, and Dean was eleven.” I chewed my lip. “Dean didn’t ask for me… and neither did Sam. My dad least of all. Anyways,” I shrugged. “He’s been missing for a while, and maybe it’s my fault, but-”

“Your father’s missing?”

“I love Dean. He raised me. I mean like, technically so did Sam, but mostly Dean.” I sighed again, now upset. “Dean’s sad. He misses our Dad. I hate it when he’s upset.”

“Olive, would you say you have a high dependency on your brother?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Dean’s my entire life.”

“And would you say this dependency extends to Sam too?”

I took a breath. “No. I mean, don’t get me wrong! I love Sam to death, but it’s not the same with him as it is with Dean.”

“If I can speak bluntly…”

“Go ahead.”

“It sounds to me like you have a dangerous dependence on Dean.”

I blinked.

Yeah. Probably.

                                                          ***

“Baby!” Dean perked up as I walked out of the door. “You were in there forever. What did you talk about?”

I pulled him into a hug. “The hospital. You and Sam. My mom leaving me. Dad being gone… a lot.”

Dean only blinked, and Sam grinned. “And what’d you find out?”

“Oh, the south wing! It’s where they housed the real loonies. The psychos, criminally insane.” I huffed.

“Sounds cozy.” Dean dropped his chin onto my head.

“Yeah, and one night in ‘64, they lost their shit. Attacked staff. Attacked each other. So many fucking people died.”

“So the patients took over the asylum?”

I nodded. “Apparently.”

“How many deaths?”

“Uh, upwards of a few dozen. Some patients. Some staff. It was super gory. Most of the bodies were never even recovered, including Doc Elliot.”

Dean pulled back. “Never recovered? The hell’s that mean?”

“Cops scoured every single fucking inch of the place.” I shook my head. “Nothing. Guess the patients must’ve stuffed the bodies somewhere.”

“That’s grim.” Sam shivered.

“Yeah. So they transferred all the remaining patients and shut the hospital down.”

“So to sum it up, we’ve got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” Dean huffed.

“And an assload of angry spirits.”

“Good times.” Sam tutted.

“Let’s check out the hospital tonight.” Dean squeezed me tightly before sighing.

We piled into the car.

                                                          ***

“Getting readings?” Sam asked as he shuffled through the doorway.

“Yeah, big time.”

“This place is orbing like crazy.” I mumbled as I swept the video camera around.

It would be easier for the boys to look down to see it than Dean and I stand on our toes to see it in Sam’s grasp.

“Probably multiple spirits out and about.”

I shivered. “And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ‘em and burn ‘em. Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit is the pissed of spirit of a psycho killer.” Dean grimaced.

Sam shook his head. “Let’s just keep moving.”

                                                          ***

Sam stayed with me as Dean split into the next room. He held his shotgun up and moved at the same pace I did as I swept the camera around the room.

“Anything?”

“Nah.” I mumbled before bringing it back around to do a second sweep.

This time I could see an old woman, white hair crazy, with one eye hanging out of her head. She was moving toward us, slowly and calmly. She wasn’t trying to hurt us. I tilted my head.

“Dean? Dean!” Sam shouted as he pulled the trigger and nothing happened. “Shotgun!”

“Sam, Ol, get down!”

Sam yanked me down as Dean shot, leaving the woman to burst into a cloud of dust.

“That was weird.” I pushed myself to my feet and brushed myself off.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Dean snorted as he held a hand out for Sam. “Since when don’t spirits put you on the defensive?”

“No De, I mean… it was that she didn’t attack us.”

“Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing.” Dean shook his head as he picked at Sam’s shotgun. “Clip got stuck.” He slammed his hand against it, a satisfied grin on his face. “Fixed it.”

“Olive is right. She didn’t hurt us. She didn’t even try.”

“So if she didn’t wanna hurt us, then what did she want?” Sam and I asked at the same time.

There was a scratching metallic noise and I jumped a foot in the air. Dean pushed me between him and Sam as he raised his shotgun. Sam flicked the flashlight and shined it into the room. There was a bed on its side, covered in ratty sheets. The top of a blonde head was peeking out from above it. I propped the video camera up against my cheekbone as Sam and Dean nodded to each other.

Sam reached out and tipped the bed onto all fours, and the head turned out to be a girl. She spun to face us, horror clear on her face as she gasped.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” Dean asked, shotgun down.

“Uh, Katherine.” She shook her head. “Kat.”

“I’m Olive.” I piped up, letting the camera go slack at my side. “This is Dean, that’s Sam.” I gestured.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, eyes wide.

“Um. My boyfriend, Gavin.”

The boys and I looked at each other, same expression copied onto our faces.

“Is he here?”

“Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just… you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and…” 

“Alright. Kat?” Dean asked and she nodded. He put out a hand to help her stand. “Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and Olive will stay with you while we find your boyfriend.”

“No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.

Dean scoffed. “It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous.”

She nodded. “That's why I gotta find him.”

Dean and Sam looked at each other. Sam shrugged and I snorted as Dean turned back to Kat.

Alright, I guess we’re gonna split up then. Kat stick with me, Olive, you’re with Sam.”

I nodded and hooked a finger onto one of Sam’s belt buckles. He patted my head with a smile.

“Let’s move.”

                                                          ***

“Sam.” I patted his arm and pointed to the unconscious boy on the floor.

Sam nodded and stepped in front of me before crouching to shake the boy. His eyes opened and he freaked out.

“Hey, it’s okay!”

“Gavin, we’re here to help.” I coaxed as I squatted next to Sam.

“Who the hell are you guys?” Gavin sat up.

“My name is Sam, that’s Olive.”

“We um, we found your girlfriend?”

“Kat?” Gavin moved to stand. “Is she alright?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, she’s okay. Just worried about you. Are you okay?”

“I was running. I think I fell.” Gavin rubbed his forehead.

“Running from what?”

“There was… there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up.”

“Okay listen, did this girl… did she try and hurt you?”

“What? N-no, she uh…”

“She what?” I pressed.

“She… kissed me.”

Sam and I looked at each other, and I blinked. Sam held back an annoyed snort and eye roll combo. 

What the fuck?

“Uh… um… but… but she, she didn’t…” Sam trailed off, blinking as he looked at me, confused.

“She didn’t physically hurt you, did she?”

“Dude!” Gavin snorted. “She kissed me. I’m scarred for life!”

Sam and I looked at each other again, blinking furiously.

What the… fucking hell?

“Well, trust me… it… it could’ve been a lot worse.” 

“Now do you remember anything else?” Sam asked, blinking.

“She actually, uh, she tried to whisper something in my ear.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know. I ran like hell.”

Sam and I looked at each other again and sighed.

This is fucking pointless.

“Let’s get back to Dean and get them the hell out of here.” I mumbled.

                                                          ***

There was a shrill scream that rang off the metal of the building. Gavin jumped and Sam flinched. My chest clenched and I gasped.

“Dean!”

I burst into a full out sprint, boots pounding on the floor.

“Dean!”

“She’s inside with one of them.” Dean grabbed me by the shoulder the second I reached him, pointing to the rusted door.

“Help me!” She shrieked, and Sam and Gavin got to us, panting.

“Kat!” Gavin began to panic, and Sam’s fists clenched as he shut his eyes.

“Get me out of here!”

“Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.” Sam huffed.

Dean blinked as he turned to Sam. “She’s gotta what?”

“I have to what?” Kat echoed.

Sam sighed. “These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“You face it!” She spat back.

“No!” Sam hissed. “It’s the only way to get out of there.”

“No!” Kat fought.

“Kat, just look at it! Come on, you can do it.” I leaned against the door.

There was silence and Gavin called out to her. Dean sighed and ducked his head.

“Man, I hope you’re right about this.”

Sam huffed again. “Yeah, me too.”

I reached for Dean’s hand as we waited, silent and tense. He looked down at me and swallowed, pulling me closer to his side. Sam’s breath was the only thing I could hear. Dean squeezed my hand as the lock unclicked. I tried to steady my own breathing as the door slid open. Kat stood in the doorway, pale and drained.

“Oh, Kat.” Gavin grabbed her and she fell into him.

Sam dashed into the room, shining the light around. He made a grabby hand at me and I put the camera into the palm of his hand. He flicked it up and looked around.

“Anything?” I asked as he emerged.

He only shook his head.

“One thirty-seven.” Kat spoke.

Dean and Sam and I looked at each other, each blinking in confusion.

“Sorry?” Dean asked.

“It whispered in my ear. One thirty-seven.”

“Room number.” The three Winchester brains clicked as I ducked to squat, pulling Dean down with me, Sam following on his own.

“So if these spirits aren’t trying to hurt anyone-”

“Then what’re they trying to do?” I finished his question.

“Maybe that’s what they’ve been trying to tell us…” Sam shrugged.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“Alright.” Sam huffed as the three of us popped back onto our feet.

Dean turned to the teenagers with a grin on his face. “So, now, are you guys ready to get the hell out of here?”

Kat snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded to Sam. “Get them, Olive can stay with them while I find 137.”

“No.” I reached for him again, latching onto his wrist.

“What?”

“I’m going with you. Sam can get them out on his own, but we shouldn’t leave one person alone in here.” I shook my head.

“Olive-”

“Dean, she’s right.” Sam sighed. “It’s dangerous.”

Dean blinked. “Fine. Keep the shotgun.” He pulled it off his back and held it out to Sam.

Sam took it and slung it over his back. “Be careful.”

“Always.” Dean grumbled back.

                                                          ***

“Found it!” I called to Dean as I stood in front of the door.

“Here, help me move this.” He pocketed his own flashlight and gestured to the fallen furniture in blocking the doorway.

I gripped my flashlight between my teeth as I anchored my feet on the ground and pushed against the wooden mess. Dean followed, his weight doing the job. I stumbled as the support of the cabinet gave way and he helped me stay steady by grabbing the back of my neck. I cleared my throat as Dean pushed the door open.

The room was a disaster. The walls were stained with what was most definitely blood and other bodily fluids, filing cabinets tipped over and papers strewn about. Dean pushed me behind him.

“You got the camera?”

I patted my sides and huffed. “No. We left it with Sam.”

He huffed. “Alright. Just stay close.”

I nodded. This room had bad vibes.

                                                          ***

I huffed from my spot on the floor. I was leaning against the wall, and I was absolutely leaning against blood, but I didn’t care.

“De, we’ve looked through every single paper here. Whatever we’re looking for, it’s not here. The spirits are wrong.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ol, it has to be here.”

I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed.

“Fine. Then there’s a secret door or drawer or something. It’s not in this mess, not in plain sight.”

Dean blew a raspberry. “Fine. Fine, let’s try to pull the room apart then.”

I groaned as I got to my feet. “I wish Dad was here.”

He sighed. “Yeah Ollie, I know. I wish he was here too.”

I turned to face the wall and splayed my fingers out, running them across the wall as I started to circle the room.

“Here!” Dean piped up.

I blinked. “How did you find it so fast?”

He chuckled. “It was right in front of me.” He pried the floorboard up and tossed it aside.

I joined him, delighted to see a satchel that looked full.

“This is why I get paid the big bucks.” He pulled the satchel up with a grunt.

I pranced to the desk in the middle of the room and sat down. Dean pulled up a chair and laid the papers from the satchel on the table. I snatched the top half of the pile and pulled it into my lap.

“Holy shit.” I grimaced as Dean sat and took his pile.

Notes upon notes upon notes, medical instruments and procedures hand-drawn, it was insanity on paper.

“Hey Ol.” Dean mumbled.

I looked up from the papers, seeing that his expression matched how I felt.

Pure concern. Whatever had happened to Ellicott to make him do this must’ve been awful, and what he did to the patients must’ve been even worse.

Dean broke into a smile and I blinked, confused. Why was he smiling?

“Looks like all work and no play makes-”

“Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy.” I chimed in, finishing the saying with him as he chuckled and I giggled.

There was a thud and our heads snapped up.

“Sam.”

                                                          ***

We got shot at the second we rounded the corner. Kat had the shotgun, and thankfully, Dean reacted quicker than I did, pulling me down around the corner with him.

“Damn it, damn it! Don’t shoot! It’s us!” Dean shouted.

“Sorry!” Kat squeaked. Sorry.”

“Son of a-”

“What the hell are you still doing here? Where’s Sam?” I asked as I ran around the corner, seeing Gavin and Kat huddled together against the wall.

“He went to the basement. You called him.” Gavin spoke.

Dean and I looked at each other.

“I didn’t call anyone.”

“Not you. Dean.” Kat nodded to him.

Dean and I looked at each other again, increasingly confused and frustrated.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.” Kat shrugged.

“Fucking hell.” I hissed.

“Basement, huh?” The wheels in Dean’s head began to turn.

I sighed and looked around, picking up the first pipe I saw. I twisted it in my hands. It would be better than nothing.

“Alright. Watch yourselves, and watch out for us.”

“Be careful!” Kat called as Dean reached for my hand and led the way.

                                                          ***

“Sammy? Sam, you down here?” Dean called.

“Sams? Sammy!” I followed behind him, holding onto his jacket like a little kid.

The basement was creepy. There were desks and chairs thrown around, like Ellicott’s office but worse. I felt a step behind me and jumped as I turned, Dean immediately jumping in front of me with the shotgun up. Upon seeing that it was Sam, I sighed.

“Man, answer me when I’m calling you!” Dean barked, reminding me very quickly of Dad. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Sam’s gaze seemed dead and it sent chills down my spine.

“You know it wasn’t me who called you, right?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here.”

“Probably Ellicott. That’s what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven’t seen him, have you, Sams?” I asked, still behind Dean, inching closer slowly.

“No.” Sam’s cold eyes went from Dean to me. “How do you know it was him?”

I flinched. How do you know and not why do you think. That was bad. It gave me a bad feeling at the base of my spine and in the pit of my stomach.

“Cause we found his log book. Apparently he was experimenting on his patients. Awful shit. Makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin.” Dean scoffed, unaware of the tension.

Sam kept his eyes on me. Something was wrong with him. “But it was the patients who rioted.”

“Yeah.” Dean snorted, and Sam’s eyes went back to him, face blank. “They were rioting against Ellicott. Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy.” Dean rolled his eyes. “He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So we were thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal?” Dean proposed, and Sam said nothing, still staring.

I huddled closer to Dean, clenching his jacket so hard my knuckles began to hurt. “Guys, let’s just go. We have to find his body and burn it.”

“How?” Sam quirked an eyebrow. “The police never found his body.”

Dean shook his head, shooting me a look over his shoulder. I looked up at him, terrified. Sam was not Sam right now, and I was hoping Dean would catch onto that.

“The log book said he… had some sort of-” He cut himself off to look back at me, confused. I shook my head and Sam cleared his throat. I jumped, feeling my skin crawl. This was hopeless. I pushed my face into Dean’s back and whined. His hand came back to my arm and I sighed. He had gotten the message.

“Uh… he had a secret procedure room down here where he’d work on his patients. So, if I was a patient, I’d drag his ass down here, do a little work myself.”

“I don’t know, Dean. It sounds kind of…” Sam trailed off, looking over Dean’s shoulder at me.

I squirmed, uneasy. “Crazy?” I proposed, and Sam’s eye twitched as he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Dean grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out from behind him, to his side.

“I told you. I looked everywhere. I didn’t find a hidden room.”

My blood froze again. He hadn’t mentioned looking at all.

Dean chuckled. “Well yeah, that’s why they call it hidden.” He pulled me to follow him around, and I could feel Sam on my tail.

I closed my eyes, hoping it would stop. Ellicott must’ve done something to him. He was freaking me out.

“You hear that?” Dean asked, tilting his head to the ground. “There’s a door here.”

He dropped my hand to crouch, and Sam’s hand slammed over my mouth as the shotgun pressed into the base of my neck and I was dragged backward, away from Dean. I squealed, horrified and shaking.

“Dean.” Sam spoke, and Dean stood, eyes wide. He took a step forward, and Sam dug the gun into my skin. I whimpered, trembling like a chihuahua.

“Step away from the door.”

“Sam, put the gun down.” Dean tried to reason, putting his hand up.

“Is that an order?” Sam tilted his head.

Dean shook his head. “No. More of a friendly request. Let her go.” Dean squared his shoulders. “That was an order.”

Sam snorted. “Well I’m getting pretty sick of taking your orders.”

I bit down into Sam’s hand and the gun pressed harder, but I got my mouth free.

“De, I was right! Ellicott did something to him!”

“Oh, for once in your life, Olive, just shut your mouth.” Sam covered my mouth again.

“What are you gonna do, Sam? Shoot your little fucking sister? Gun’s filled with rock salt. It won’t kill her. Won’t kill me either.”

Sam huffed, and the gun left me. I sighed, but then he aimed at Dean and shot.

“No, but it will hurt like hell.”

I screamed as Sam put the gun down and dragged me across the room, tossing me into the corner. There were ropes right by, and I knew he had planned this. Dean had been blasted backward, through the door. He was strewn on the floor.

“Dean! Dean! Dean! Sammy, stop it! Sam, please! Dean!” I tried to kick Sam away, screaming and crying.

“Shut up, Olive! I’m tired of hearing you!” Sam hissed into my face as he tied my wrists together, then my ankles. “You ruin everything.”

“Sam, don’t do this.” I whined. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I want to.” Sam spat on me and I let out a whimper.

“Olive!” Dean’s voice was a howl, and then it turned into a bark. “Sam!”

Sam was now standing over him, a grim smile on his face. Dean was trying to back away so he could get to his feet, but it was clear that he was in pain and struggling.

“We gotta burn Ellicott’s bones and then all of this will be over, and you’ll be back to normal.” Dean panted.

I struggled against the ropes. He had made the mistake of tying my wrists in front of me and tying the rope on my boots and not above. Sam hissed at Dean.

“I am normal! I’m just telling the truth for the first time!”

His attention was fully on Dean. I slowly grabbed at the laces of my boots, undoing the knot.

“I mean, why are we even here? Cause you’re following Dad’s orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question?”

I pulled down the zipper as he raised his voice. I tugged one boot off, grunting as the rope dug at my skin as it passed. One boot was off.

“Are you that desperate for his approval?” Sam laughed.

“This isn’t you talking, Sam.” Dean shook his head.

“That’s the difference between you and me! I have a mind of my own! I’m not pathetic, like you!”

The other boot slid off, leaving me in socks, wrists tied but functional.

“So what are you gonna do? Huh? Are you gonna kill me?” Dean challenged, seeing that I was halfway there.

“You know what? I am so sick of you telling me what to do!” Sam shouted, and I took the chance to get to my feet and tiptoe toward him. “We’re no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago!”

“Well then here!” Dean screamed louder than Sam had, giving me enough time to drag a chair behind Sam and step onto it. “Let me make it easier for you!” Dean held his Smith & Wesson out to him. “Come on! Take it! Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt.” He growled, and I took a deep breath as Sam hesitated. “Take it!” Dean spat.

Sam snatched it and pointed it at Dean’s face. I caught Dean’s eye and there was a twinkle of a smile before his attention reverted back to Sam. “You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger.” Dean taunted him. “Do it!”

Sam pulled, and the gun clicked. I felt my eyes burn with tears, and I wasn’t sure if they were from fear or relief. He pulled the trigger again, but it would be of no use. The chamber was empty. Sam was confused. Dean nodded at me and I took the chance to leap onto Sam, hooking my tied wrists over his neck. He stumbled backward, trying to get me off as Dean struggled to get to his feet.

“Man, I’m not gonna give you a loaded pistol!” Dean shouted.

“Get Ellicott, I can handle him!” I squeaked as Sam grabbed my arms and tried to pull them off.

“Sorry, Sams.” I whispered as I tugged my arms back, elbows to my sides.

My wrists hit Sam in the throat and he gagged, thrashing about and trying to get free of me. I dug my heel into his side, and he hissed, falling to the ground. I shook loose and looked up to see that Dean had disappeared behind a pair of curtains.

The heel of Sam’s hand came up to my nose and I groaned, stumbling backwards.

“Sam, listen to me!” I howled, spitting the blood that traveled to my mouth.

“Why can’t you ever stay out of it, Olive?” He screamed at me. “Sometimes I wish you had never shown up!”

I sighed as he pinned me down, hands at my neck. He was gonna choke me out, and I would either pass out or die. I was scared of both. I tried to squirm away, but it was no use. I prayed another apology before bringing my knee up to his crotch. His arms lost their tension, and I looped my wrists around his neck, bringing his head down and slamming my forehead into his nose. His eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp. I huffed as I pushed him off of me and looked for his pulse. It was there. I sighed, dropping onto the floor.

“Olive!” Dean shouted and I struggled to get back up, panting.

Ellicott had Dean in the corner, hands on his face.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m going to help you. I’m going to make you all better.” Ellicott cooed, and Dean stopped struggling, staring into the doctor’s eyes.

I took a deep breath, gagging at the smell of a dead body, but also being washed in a sense of relief at the smell of salt and kerosene. I rummaged through my pockets to find a lighter. I heard Dean’s laugh as my fingers curled around the lighter. I looked up to see him coming at me, a horrifying grin on his face. I flicked the lighter open and threw it onto the body. Ellicott’s ghost began to crumble as the body burned, and Dean stopped right in front of me. His smile dropped and his eyes went wide at the fear on my face. He started to cry and he fell to his knees.

“Olive, I’m so sorry.” He panted.

I fell to my knees in front of him and looped my arms around his neck as he grabbed at me, sobbing.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” He shook. “I don’t want you to be scared of me, I’m so sorry.”

I giggled. “I’m not scared of you. Now let’s go. We have to haul Sam out of here somehow, and he’s massive.”

He pulled back and brushed my hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead before getting to his feet and holding his hands out to help me. There was a groan and I looked over to see Sam sitting up, wriggling his nose.

Dean and I looked at each other.

“You’re not gonna try and kill us, are you?”

“No.” Sam cupped his nose.

“Good. Cause that would be awkward.” I huffed as I shuffled over to him.

                                                        ***

I took a deep breath of fresh air and sighed, leaning into Dean’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“Thanks, guys.” Kat sighed as we stood outside of the asylum.

“Yeah, thanks.” Gavin added.

“No more haunted asylums, okay?” Dean emphasized, and we watched as they walked toward their car.

“Hey, Dean? Ol?”

Dean and I turned to Sam, eyebrows raised.

“I’m really sorry, guys. I said awful things back there.”

Dean and I looked at each other.

“You remember all that?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “It’s like I couldn’t control it. But I didn’t mean it. Any of it.”

“You didn’t, huh?” Dean eyed him.

“No, of course not!” Sam’s face became panicked, and inched away from Dean and to him, throwing my arms around his middle. He hugged back with a sigh. “Do we need to talk about this?”

Dean shook his head as he opened the car door. “No. I’m not really in the caring and sharing kind of mood. I just wanna get some sleep.” He got into the car and Sam sighed.

I pulled away and gave him a sympathetic smile. “He’ll come around. Ellicott just hit some sensitive spots, that’s all.”

“Olive.” Sam frowned. “I love hearing you talk. Y-y-you’re like… this little genius. You’re so smart and creative and funny, and you’ve never ruined anything in your life.” He sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

I smiled. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean any of it. And Dean knows too. He’s just…” I leaned in and whispered. “Insecure.” I cleared my throat. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

Sam chuckled. “I love you, Ol.”

I grinned. “I love you too, Sam.”

                                                        ***

I yawned as I pulled my hoodie on. Dean was asleep in bed, and Sam had just gotten into the shower. I was about to crawl in next to Dean, and I was so tired I was sure that I’d snore louder than him.

His phone rang and I groaned.

“De?”

He didn’t move. I let out a whine and grabbed the phone. It wasn’t a familiar number, but we knew a lot of people.

“Hello?” I put it to my ear.

“Olive? Where’s your brother?”

My eyes bugged out of my head. “Dad?”

Previous Ep: Home (1.09)

Next Ep: Scarecrow (1.11)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 226: Oh Shit We’re Caught Up

Previously on BnHA: The still-captured Giran warned Re-Des that the League wasn’t going to give a shit about rescuing him, and reminded him that if the League sicced a Noumu on the Army they were as good as dead. But Re-Des was all “nah they don’t have any Noumus to sic at the moment” and give an annoyingly thorough summary of his deductive reasoning. Meanwhile in the town, Kizuki, a.k.a. the Rita Skeeter of BnHA, pestered Toga for an interview. She seemed to have done her research, too -- she knew Toga’s age, and that she ran away from home after graduating middle school. None of Toga’s friends or family saw it coming, apparently, and Kizuki -- whose quirk allows her to turn anything she touches into a bomb -- wanted to know the deal. She allowed Toga to suck up some of her subordinates’ blood, then promptly exploded it. She then asked Toga why she’d abandoned her normal life. In response, Toga smiled one of her crazy smiles and was all “a normal life? what’s that?” Lol okay. Anyway, the last few pages were peppered with as-yet-unexplained flashback scenes, so I’m guessing we’re about to find out just what makes this girl tick at long last.

Today on BnHA: We explore Toga’s backstory in a series of flashbacks. Basically her quirk gave her a fascination for blood which her quirk counseling never properly addressed, and so one day she just snapped and killed a dude. But she was such a cute little kid though. Whatever Toga I still love you. Anyway, so back in the present, Kizuki tries to psychoanalyze Toga and makes her out to be a victim of a society that doesn’t have a place for her. Kizuki says that Toga will become a martyr for the Liberation Army’s cause. But Toga is all “fuck that” and breaks free of Kizuki’s clutches, transforming into Ochako using the last of the blood she took back during the forest arc. Kizuki mocks the seemingly useless transformation, stating that she knows Toga can only change her appearance on the outside. Unfortunately for Kizuki, this isn’t entirely the case, as it’s revealed that while transformed, Toga is able to use the quirks of whoever she turns into. She proceeds to float Kizuki way up into the air and then release her, splattering her onto the ground. Like, she’s definitely dead now, oh shit. Anyways so it’s pretty awesome, albeit grisly as all heck. Now to wait for the rest of the League to follow suit and kick some Liberation Army ass.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 226, which, wait, this is chapter 226. Oh shit lol. But I’m posting this a week after I first read the chapter so any ETAs will reflect that.)

okay so we’re opening with a flashback to a news story or something?

injured but didn’t kill? that doesn’t sound like the Toga we all know and love :’)

hey what the

is Toga not her real name??? didn’t we get confirmation from Gran Torino back during the Pizza Delivery mission? what’s up with that

(ETA: this is really weird, though. they never once refer to her by name during any of the flashback scenes. maybe this is just for stylistic purposes? I don’t think her name is supposed to be any sort of big secret but who knows?)

anyway so yeah

that just means she lub him, guys. that’s just how she is. poor Saito

(ETA: btw Caleb Cook pointed out on his Twitter that this looks to be the Deku lookalike from the previous chapter. so if he was one of AFO’s kids, that’s kind of interesting that AFO had no issue with Tomura hiring his son’s killer later on. I don’t personally think there was any AFO relation though.)

oh wow

rude. that’s my best girl you’re talking about. she’s just a little vampirish, what? Vlad King can make people’s blood fucking do tricks, and you don’t see anyone accusing *him* of being devil spawn. smh

awwwww

cats do this all the time and people fucking love cats! I’m telling you, these are double standards!

oh hey we’re back in the present

so Kizuki is all “so you think you’re living normally? lol you weirdo” basically

and she’s looking at the smiling blood-covered Toga and is all “so this is your ‘true face’“

she’s calling her “the very embodiment of the dark side of superhuman society.” girl what

okay look, I’m not saying Toga doesn’t have a screw or two loose. and yes, she is very fond of blood. but if we’re going to call someone the literal embodiment of the dark side of society then can I interest you in a few other choice candidates, though?? Toga is what we like to call Mostly Evil. there’s a big difference between Mostly Evil and All Evil! Mostly Evil is Slightly Good! whereas with All Evil, well, with All Evil there’s usually only one thing you can do. (accuse them of being the protagonist’s Secret Dad.)

anyways

nooooo my sweet demented child is coughing and teetering onto the ground

jesus it’s almost like she’s been FUCKING BLOWN UP FROM THE INSIDE OUT good grief

and now Kizuki is all “you poor thing.” hey Kizuki you can fuck off right now thanks

HEY

LADY UNLESS YOU WANT TO CATCH THESE HANDS YOU HAD BETTER STEP AWAY FROM MY POOR HURT CHILD AND STOP TOUCHING HER FUCKING FACE

-- oh shit, though!!

[flips open notebook; clicks pen] don’t mind me lady please continue

I mean, I would imagine one of the goals of the program would be to embrace the fact that you’re different. that’s hardly an isolating thing in a society like this one where everyone is so unique that the established word for their superpowers literally means “individuality”

(ETA: on a reread, it actually sounds like the program is intended to do just the opposite of that and the goal is to get everyone to fit in. how the hell they expect to accomplish that in a society where everyone has wacky abilities is beyond me! no wonder the program has issues if this really is the case though.)

but anyways I’m sorry to interrupt, please keep talking about quirk counseling and how it didn’t work for Toga while I sit here and quietly take my notes

you guys oh no she’s too damn cute. I can’t

oh boy

?? and why the hell not, though? sure it might freak some people out that she likes her steaks a little rarer than most, but I don’t see why they couldn’t have accommodated this the same as any other quirk. people donate blood all the time; couldn’t she have gotten a legal supply for her own medical needs? the live animals and such are a bit weird, true, but again, it’s not all that different from what your cat would get up to given half the chance. I feel like they could have found other outlets for her to channel some of that bloodlust, while helping to sate any physical cravings with the aforementioned donated blood supply. if you ask me, whoever counseled her dropped the ball honestly

(ETA: and her parents, too. this makes me want to rewatch the first season of Dexter actually. too bad Toga’s parents weren’t like Dexter’s dad.)

anyway let’s watch society fail poor Toga

well that didn’t take long

see this seriously doesn’t make any sense to me though. IT’S QUIRK SOCIETY, GUYS. NO ONE IS FUCKING NORMAL. WHY CAN’T YOU BE BETTER PARENTS. HOW ABOUT THAT ONE THOUGH

I honestly can’t decide if I’m glad we got more insight into Toga’s headspace, or annoyed that they went and gave her Secret Angst. the problem is I don’t think she needed Secret Angst in order to be a good character, or a likable one. I’m not so sure I really like the implication here that It’s Not Toga’s Fault, Because Society Failed Her. like, I’ve talked about my feelings on this kind of thing before. I prefer It Is Her Fault But She Owns It Though. just because I like when characters take responsibility for their own shit and it’s not just excused or handwaved

but on the other hand, Toga is the type of character who doesn’t need redemption so much as rehabilitation. so it is good to get some kind of an idea as to why she went off the rocker, in that respect. idk. I have mixed feelings, maybe by the time I post this recap I’ll have sorted it out more in my head lol

(ETA: yeah so after reflecting on it some more, it’s more like she was always the way she is, and was just repressing it, and then one day got tired of repressing it. being told she should act one way when she felt like her true self was someone totally different. so it’s not really “society fucked her up” so much as “she was already a little kooky and they just failed to properly address it until it was too late.” so that’s fine, I guess. it’s about what I expected. and hey, at least we got some cute Baby Toga scenes out of the bargain, so.)

anyway now Toga’s making to stab Kizuki and shouting at her to shut up. oh damn

OH DAMN

(ETA: oh you might want to be careful with that Detnerat merch though, lady. seems to be on par with Hammer Tech in terms of reliability.)

DID YOU BLOW UP TOGA’S FUCKING FACE HOLY FUCK

HOLY SHIT SHE REALLY DID

if that’s the case then why are you guys trying to kill her

oh for fuck’s

said sacred text will gloss over exactly how she died though, I suppose? you guys are such fucking hypocrites. you act like you’re the saviors of the world bringing freedom to everyone, but those ideals only seem to hold up so long as they’re convenient. “blah blah blah society is so evil and doesn’t care about people like you. meanwhile we will straight up murder your ass, but never fear, your death will help ensure that no one else has to endure the cruelty of this apathetic world”

like, imagine beating someone with a stick, while screaming at them about how society wants to beat them with a lot more sticks just like this, but not to worry though because their death will make sure no more people get beaten to death with sticks by society. I’m really bad with metaphors you guys, but do you feel me though? just, fuck these guys so hard

I like that Kizuki apparently seems to think Toga is actually dead, though, because honestly. she should be, lol

...or maybe she doesn’t think that, because now she’s asking Toga to correct her if she made any mistakes with her conjectures

and Toga is rolling out of her grasp and ducking off!

GO TOGA!! RUN LIKE THE WIND! I DON’T LIKE HER EITHER! EXACTLY, YOU’RE NOT UNFORTUNATE, THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING. she’s trying to make you out to be some helpless little victim, but it’s like, bitch, she chose to be evil in order to live her best life so go fuck yourself

TOGAAAAAA

THANK YOU!!! FUCK OFF WITH THAT SECRET ANGST BULLSHIT. STOP ACCUSING HER OF FAKING IT LIKE YOU KNOW HER SO DAMN WELL

she says that just as everyone else kisses people that they like, she sucks blood from the people she likes

EYYYYYYYYY

YESSSSSSSSS TOGA THIS IS WHY YOU’RE MY BEST GIRL

oh my god. okay so someone sent me an anon ask early Thursday afternoon (ETA: this was last Thursday April 25; I read the chapter on the 26th) to the effect of “the mystery has been solved; she CAN use quirks”, so I’m getting an inkling that we’re about to see Toga do some zero gravity bullshit and I’m here for it. but unfortunately I’m spoiled for it. please give me time to read the new chapters when they come out, guys. since I’m writing down my reactions, I’m not able to just read the manga on my phone as soon as chapters come out; the whole process takes me a good hour or two usually, and I prefer to read on my computer since the keyboard comes in handy when I’m typing out a novel in response to whatever bullshit is happening lol. so with work and everything, that usually means I don’t get around to it until the late afternoon/evening most of the time

anyways I know I probably sound bitchy but it’s not really a big deal. but I just wanted to bring this up now, because if and when Horikoshi finally reveals Kacchan’s hero name 17 years from now and I get spoiled on that before I read it, that’ll be a different story lol. I will rampage, guys. or more likely I’ll just learn to turn my asks off on Thursdays and Fridays until the chapter is read! anyways!

-- hold up, quick question, can Toga heal herself by transforming into someone else?? it just occurred to me, and I need to know right this instant

so Kizuki is all “I see, you keep a stock of blood!” and I was like “duh” but then I remembered Kizuki didn’t read the Basement arc. so

oh

well that answers that. shoot

-- except hold up, again! because Spoiled Me knows that’s not actually the case! she can use quirks too! so maybe it can heal her. I mean, this lady didn’t even know until one chapter ago that Toga used blood to transform, so I don’t know where she’s getting all this “I’m well aware!” bullshit from. you don’t know shit

so she’s laughing and mocking Toga and saying she probably just wanted to look cute when she dies

...I mean, I was about to get indignant, but in all honestly why did Toga transform into her though?

so basically she transformed into her because she envies her? is that why she listed her on her list of People She Officially Likes?

but her saying that she wants to get closer to the person she loves makes me think she hasn’t given up. if she’s anything like All Might (you know, because everyone is always comparing Toga to All Might), thinking about Izuku is probably helping motivate her to stay alive!

lol, yep

and oh shit I think the thing is happening!!

holy fucking shit, wait up. I was all “so what, she’s going to float her to death?” and then it all of a sudden occurred to me just how fucking deadly Ochako’s power actually is, which I never thought about before because this deadly power was safely in the hands of the sweetest, kindest girl in existence who’s never tried to use it for anything remotely sinister aside from that one time she tried to crush Bakugou with hundreds of rocks

but like, she could float her all the way out into space, if she wanted! but the much more likely option, especially given that this is a series where falling from things actually hurts, is that she could simply float her up and then fucking splatter her on the ground holy shit

aaaaaaand up she goes!

yeah that’s right lady. “only her appearance changes” my ass

holy shit

SHE’S ALREADY SO HIGH, HOLY FUCK THIS IS TERRIFYING SHE REALLY IS GOING TO DROP HER ISN’T SHE

now she’s running around and tagging all the rest of them too!

holy shit!!!! I can’t! my brain’s going like a mile a minute because not only did Toga just get 1000% deadlier, but Ochako did too, retroactively! and just, so much newfound respect and awe for my girls

HOLY SHIT

SHE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW??! you seriously never once realized this this entire time??

quirk counseling has failed her in more ways than one. she could have gone to U.A.! she could have made an amazing hero. honestly she still could aside from the fact that she doesn’t want to. (and also, y’know. the murders. and such)

ahhhh now she’s coughing up blood, so I guess that’s a no on the “can she heal” question then

honestly that makes no sense if it only transforms her on the outside. half of the outside is based off of what’s inside! if you’re changing appearances that should mean your entire body transforms. particularly if she can use quirks! it means her DNA is transforming too

but whatever, for the sake of enjoying the story I’ll just shut up about this now though

anyway so Kizuki is all “it can’t be”, just as thousands of villains have said before her, usually immediately after it was incontrovertibly proven to them that Yes It Can Be Though

she’s asking if Ochako’s quirk got stronger just now because of her fear of death

and Toga is all “nope”

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

SHE DID FUCKING SPLATTER HER, HOLY SHIT!? HORIKOSHI “LET’S CHOP OFF ALL FIVE OF HIS FINGERS!” KOUHEI STRIKES AGAIN

and fucking lol at Toga thinking she’s just like Izuku because her body is all beaten up and dying. :’D Deku you’re such a terrible role model

and so I guess she’s fully on board with Tomura’s whole “destroy everything” plan now, then. well shit. I wonder how quickly they’ll be able to heal her up. what with her being so absurdly powerful all of a sudden, I wonder if her injuries will have a lasting effect on her ability to use her quirk, similar to what happened to Aizawa after USJ. might be a good idea honestly

lastly, “cute is evil” makes absolutely no sense, but damned if I’m not 100% on board with that slogan. just something about it that I like. or maybe it’s just due to the context here, lol. whatever it is, I’d buy a coffee mug with that printed on it

and here we go. so that’s it for new chapters until May 10th or thereabouts. if only there was something coming out in the interim that could tide my superhero cravings over. like a new Avengers movie or some shit. lol

(ETA: I have to hand it to Endgame, it’s done its job distracting me and then some. I’ve seen it twice now and it’s just as devastating the second time! I’m just about finished working my way through the five stages of grief now though, so we’re good. but now that I’m done wallowing, I need my villain arc to come along and cheer me up again. come on Tomura. do your thing boy.)