#mc headers

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

You're different, more than all of them expected. It's saddening for some, boner inducing for others. He likes the way you try to blow his brains out. The head of the GDA sees an opportunity.  [Invincible Variants x reader]

[Part one] [2] [Ao3] [4] [Chapter Index]

3 * Narcan Blues [6.4k]

"I'm tired of walking away to lose you,

I take my Adderall with milk and sugar,

I'm gonna be okay,

get the fuck out of my way."

 Alcohol - FIDLAR

  The defense wing was gone. All the engineers were sliced through. Only a handful of staff left compared to the hundreds stuffed into the Pentagon. So much blood he could taste the metal. So much death and destruction and all from one person. Now smashed into his floor. Re-animen called off. Donald hovered behind him, mechanical body exposed. 

        If one Invincible could do that and there were how many of these little bastards? The world was bent over, spanked, and properly fucked. 

        Communications with most world leaders had been cut due to death or satellites being smashed. Plan B through Z had been used and flicked aside like flies. But then, there was this very unexpected and hopefully fortunate turn of events. 

        Cecil Stedman leaned over the desk. Dozens of screens showing him the few remaining CCTV feeds of the area in question. The few living staff busted their asses, tracking the variants. Six of them converged on one singular location. They hadn't been together since they'd first zapped into reality. No portals opened and it didn't seem like one would anytime soon.

        He watched, listening to the crackling feed from the cheapest cameras business owners could afford. At first, he thought the prison-smashing, New York flattening freak was going to kill you on his lonesome. Then the rest came, one after another. Couldn't forget the one watching in the sky. 

        They didn't converge on you like hungry wolves. They spoke and then the strangest, best thing happened. One of them dropped dead. Killed himself on a whim, at your say so. 

        "I need everything we've got on her, now." He said to no one in particular, but heard the remaining staff scramble behind him.

        "You should sit down Sir," Donald said. "You're running on fumes." He held out an alcohol soaked rag.

        Cecil took it, pressing it hard to the bleeding slit in his head. A sliver of his skull was exposed to the air, blood gushing and rolling into one of his eyes. Not that he could see out of it, his vision was spotty and limited to begin with, his orbital had to be fractured. Flaxan bastard.

        "Can't, so you better get to teaching me on how to run on fumes."

        Donald didn't smile. Cecil hated himself for the jab but apologies were for later, way, way later. 

        He watched the newcomers rush in. Dog Girl, Psychopomp, Mercy, Running Man, and The Amazing Kidult. A handful of nobody scraps that surrounded his one and only hope for the planet. They were going to be torn to shreds. 

        Cecil was counting on that. 

        "How's the teleporter?" He asked.

        "Almost online, sir!" Someone shouted across the room. "I dunno if it'll be stable-"

        "Define almost." He didn't care about stable. 

        "Three minutes!"

        "God damn it." These nobodies weren't going to distract them that long. But his staff was doing all they could, fast as possible. He had to move onto the next step in the hasty plan he was gluing together with popsicle sticks.

               ***

       They waited, though the action had already started. When one is a Viltumite- so fast, so powerful- watching lesser beings run at them felt like slow motion. Not from fear, but from the monotony of it all. Waiting for something interesting or challenging, but the best they get is a punch that doesn't even tickle.

        The Amazing Kidult was a stretch of a contingency plan. He was more useful if you had to pretend to be somebody's mom, trust, the situation had arisen before. If you have to get into a preschool to kill one of the teachers, who was actually a drug runner who didn't deliver on the goods, he was useful. Nobody would let some random adult in, so Kidult would shift from his thirty-year-old self to whatever age you needed.

        Freaky, sure, but he could've done a lot worse with his powers. 

        You hadn't wanted him to answer the phone, but here he was. Throwing himself first into the fray. Thirty going on five to duck under an unenthusiastic punch thrown by Mohawk. Soon as he was in the clear, under the guy's legs, he was five going on thirty. Growing with a fist aimed straight for Mohawk's balls. 

        He was freshly twenty when Mohawk grabbed him by the throat, snapped his neck with a twitch of the hand. He dropped Kidult, cringing, "Weirdest dude I've killed in awhile." He kicked Kidult away, sending his corpse into the smoke of New York.

        Dog Girl lunged for Shoulder Pads. Going from your everyday Twitter-scrolling, Contrapoints watching, EDM mixing t-girl, to ginormous fucking werewolf. Maw open wide enough to bite him in half. Shoulder Pads isn't even a blur, one second, he's about to die, the next he's behind her.

        When shot, a dog does one of two things. Die quietly or let out such a pathetic sound it makes you want to kill. But when a Dog Girl's head is separated from a Dog Girl's body? That sound made you want to throw up.

        "Pathetic." He says, "But I'm not surprised (Y/n) enlisted the likes of you."        

        You didn't have time to unpack what that meant. Your finger shoots towards Lensless-or as you now thought of him, Boner Boy- too busy holding his suit out above his dick so no one could see the outline of his arousal.

        "Kill him!" You say, eyes locked onto Running Man's goggles. 

        Instead of looking horrified at the idea of fighting with a hard-on, Lensless grins. Running Man, a C-tier hero at best, zipped forward. Nowhere near quick or strong as the late Red Rush, but that didn't matter. He had what Red Rush didn't. An energy shotgun, so powerful he blasted straight through a kaiju last fall. Honestly, the only reason he was so high in your book was because of that gun but you couldn't tell him that- he's got a temper. 

        Round and Round Lensless he ran, a gray blur. Shotgun powering up and up and up. 

        Mohawk made his way toward you. "Look, babe, you know I appreciate a good ass-kicking, but this is just so lame; it's unnecessary! You know you can't fight me."

        "Cover me!" You tell Mercy. She's in front of you, solar-powered caduceus staff spinning in hand. 

        Round and round and round. Lensless head spun following his to-be attacker, laughing, "So are you gonna hit me or what?" 

        You blinked. Just blinked, but when you opened your eyes, Mercy's blood was shooting out of her esophagus like a fountain. Top half of her head splattered God knows where. Tongue twitching, bottom jaw pooling with blood as she fell to her knees then to the ground. 

        Mohawk stepped over her into your personal space. You stagger back, head reeling, stomach churning. You should've done this earlier, but got too preoccupied with the contingencies. With the backup plan that was blowing up spectacularly in your face. "Kill Yo-"

        You feel it coming. Your head whips to the side as vomit forces it's way out of your throat. Bitter as it was going down. You sway, head pulsing. 

        "Does being near me make you that sick?" Mohawk laughs but there's little humor in it.

        "Yes." You gaggle out, spitting out the last of the bile. Hand in pocket, cracking the top off another bottle of codeine. It was a bad idea shotgunning one, puking it out, and shotgunning another. Some of the first had been absorbed into your system. Adding onto that absorption was prime real estate for death by overdose. You had no other options. Overdose or be tortured to death by a guy with your ex's face. 

        Ker-ack!

        The top of Running Man's body sails over head. Going splat on a building behind you. His legs are still moving around Lensless, who just held out his arm and cut the guy in half.

        "Why do they never think that I can just do that and it's over?" He scoffed, running the hand that had just killed Running Man through his hair. Blood clinging to the locks like gel. "So boring."

      You see the mass coming in hot. Running Man's gun barreling toward your head. You drop the bottle, half drunk, and hold your hands out to catch it. Mohawk is too busy trying to get his fingers under your chin to notice. The Phantom was busy liberating Psychopomp's arms from her body. Others noticed, Lensless raced, followed by Shoulder Pads. In the sky, the Viltrumite watches. Interested in you and your well-being, of course, but if you couldn't handle a gun flying toward your head- you couldn't handle him.

        To his pleasure, you catch the thing. Fumbling before twisting the gun into the right position, ready to fire at will. The thing pulses with purple energy, humming.

        Lensless stops, chest centimeters from the shotgun barrel. "Whew, thought I'd be picking your teeth up off the ground!"

        Mohawk is shoved out of the way as Lensless came in way too hot, spitting a, "Watch it, dipshit."

        Shoulder Pads stops behind him. Aware of the gun buzzing, vibrating in your hands. He wasn't afraid, more so curious. Watching you tilt the barrel up, aimed straight for Lensless's head. You really were different. Daring enough to point a gun a version of him (again), any version of him, despite his royal linage, despite his power. The sight was like a slap across the face, but he did nothing to stop what was coming. If Lensless died to you and his own foolishness- he deserved death. 

        In another universe, one with a Mark Angstrom hadn't taken- the same energy crystal slapped into the gun was fired straight at Omni-man. Sending him crashing through concrete. Hurting him, even just a little, was no small feat. Something that could hurt him? Imagine would it could do to his son, not yet fully grown into his powers. But you didn't know that, none of them did. If Lensless knew, he wouldn't have moved anyway.

         "Reminds me of old times." As the gun's power apexed, Lensless smiled and leaned down. Putting his left eye into the barrel hole, his hips undulating. "I've got an itch actually, mind pulling the trigger for me real quick?"

        Blammo. 

        You fall back, hands burning, shoulders aching, gun launching itself out of your hands, clattering thirty feet back and breaking useless against the concrete. Lensless shoots back as well, five, six, feet- holding a hand to his left eye, blood seeping between his fingerless gloves.

        "Man-" His laughs are breathy, wanton, "Oh man, I think you really got me there." His hand falls away, "Is it bad?"

        The light brown of his eye had split in two. Oozing vitreous tissue down and around the exposed bone of his cheek and lower eye socket. All the flesh and fabric around his eye had singed away. Leaving a pulsing, angry chasm. Blast so hot it'd cauterized most of his blood vessels. The few that remained open bled like rivers into the sea. 

      He pokes at one half of his eye, "I can still kinda see." He hums. 

        "You asked for that one dude," Mohawk said.

        "Don't call me, dude, dude." Lensless says, though he's smiling. Shreds of eyelids twitching, trying to close around the mess.

        "See, this is why you should be wearing goggles." Shoulder Pads commented. "Look at you. What use are you to my empire half blind?"

        Phantom let Psychopomp drop, still screaming, rolling on the ground, legs kicking like a de-winged butterfly. He stepped closer but not too close. He felt hot, too hot, just being on the same planet as you. Too close and he'd burn to a crisp. Too far again and his heart would ice over. 

        He knew you weren't the same person. You just looked like it, moved like it, sounded like it. He didn't believe in second chances either but still, if there was a second chance for you and him- how could he pass it up? Angstrom had made a good argument. "You miss her, I can see the loss has hit you hard." He'd thrown a punch, though Angstrom was already gone. Behind him. "Do you even remember what it was like to hold her?" Another punch. "Do you want to remember?"

        He did. So very badly. 

        Because he didn't recall the taste of your lips. It'd been so long. Five years, two months, three days without you felt like the thousands of years his father said he'd live. Being near you now, reversed time. The reveal of you, this you and your truth, was violently fast, too quick to process. It felt like a joke, like the rug had been pulled from under his feet. But he could fix it. Could make you whole again the same way you'd do for him once he got you alone.

        "You know you're not the only emperor of Viltrum here, right?" Mohawk said. 

        Shoulder Pads stiffened, pouting slightly, "I assumed we all were. I wasn't aware so many of us were weak enough not to take the throne." He shot a disgusted glance toward Lensless, who was still poking at the remnants of his eye.

        Talking like you weren't here, like they hadn't just shredded through your contingencies like cheese to grater. Your mouth screws into a sneer. Fingers digging into rubble so small it felt like sand. You rose, albeit wobbly. "Hey, pirate, come'ere."

        They stared in confusion a moment. "Oh! Are you talking to me?" Lensless pointed at himself. "Are you giving me a nickname already?" He was in front of you but you hadn't seen him move. The damage was worse up close. You could smell the burnt flesh. He leaned in for a kiss or just to violate your personal space. "Would should I call you? Sweetums? Hot lips? Babygi-"

        You shoved gravel into his eye socket. Pressing, twisting, scissoring your fingers to get the dirt in all the cracks and open veins.

        "You like that?" You snarled, though it sounded slurred. Stomach churning with sick. Head throbbing from the drugs. 

        "Fuuuck!" Lensless stumbled back a pace. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk." He's moaning, groaning, in pain. Good. Satisfaction rises in your chest. "I think I just came." 

        ***

        Cecil's lips pushed in. Ninety seconds was all the distraction they got. All he could hope for was the degenerate version of the planet's strongest hero didn't snap her neck for that. He'd call on Mark for help if he could, but Mark was busy fighting off two versions of himself in downtown Tokyo. One in red and white, the other in the classic yellow and blue. He watched on split screens as the other Marks surrounded you. As their Mark fought for his, Eve's, and the people of the city's lives.

        Tokyo was the first city hit. They came out of green portals above Japan and got right to work. Mark and Eve were on a date in Osaka when this whole mess started. Just flown in after a job well done in New York. Tired from super speed, ready to get down to relaxing.

        It had been a good thing in Cecil's eyes, the kid was a loose canon these days, but he still saved hundreds at the time. All those people he saved were definitely dead now, based on how things went. The destruction was too catastrophic to contain. The other versions of him were too quick, too bloodthirsty. New York was practically defenseless with the people currently on his payroll.

        Cecil couldn't help either of them like this. Even when he could, he'd have to choose who to go to first. (Y/n) seemed like decent shot. Still, Mark was Mark, he was practically Invincible. Not going for him first would be one hell of a gamble he'd have to be absolutely sure about. "How much longer?" 

        "Ninety seconds!" A tech called. 

        A minute and a half to make a decision that could make or break the planet. Just another Tuesday. 

         "Sir," Donald shifted behind him, fingers fast on a keyboard as he pulled up the file, "That's (Y/n) (L/n). File says her and Mark used to date, sir." He swallowed. As the GDA it was their job to know everything about everyone important. Superheroes and villains top of the list, terrorists, politicians, and importantly, their connections. Dangling a husband or child in front of any one of those people could get them to do damn near anything. So the database was kept, a background thing, a backup.

        Though everyone who worked in that department thought it was useless and hated working on it- today they'd earn that paycheck. 

        "Tell me more," Cecil said, because to be honest, he had no idea who this girl was. 

        "They were together before Mark developed his powers. Very briefly after. It's likely they split after she started working for Machine Head." Donald said.

        Everyone thought the government couldn't possibly know and see everything. They could. Machine Head was a thorn in Cecil's side, but so small and insignificant when it came to the matter of the entire planet, he'd done nothing about it. Local criminal empires were for local heroes to deal with, not Cecil Stedman. 

        Cecil's finger tapped his bicep, arms crossed over his chest. He watched the battle between Mark, Mark, and Mark shift. Eve's leg was snapped like a twig, she went down hard and useless. Their Mark was on her, trying to carry her away while local heroes stepped into the fray. He broke through the atmosphere, screaming for help. Leaving just in time to see the local talent get shredded right through. 

        He hadn't killed a single one of them, whereas the city gutter rat had. Cecil swallowed, eyes switching back and forth, "Great. I'm sure his ex'll wanna work with us."

        "Probably not, but Sir, what those versions of Mark are saying implies they're not exes in their universe." Donald nodded to the screen. The Mark's surrounding her in a semicircle. Bloodied. One screaming about cum. 

        The decision was made. The bait was too good to pass up. Eve would live without immedatate medical attention.

        His fingers curled into his sleeves. "Someone not working on the teleporter- get me powercuffs, Narcan, the most noise proof headphones we can find, and a muzzle, preferably the same we used on the first re-animen, I like not killing myself."

        ***

        "Get away from me."

        He does, you wish he hadn't. Up close you couldn't see his bottom half so well. But as soon as he stepped back, you can see the imprint of his dick softening. See the wet stain on his lower abdomen. 

        The sight is... you don't know. You felt sick in a way that couldn't be from the codeine overdose or the life or death situation in front of you. Guts twisting in disgust, a disgust you had seen in others. You were unsavory to people around you, but interesting, like a pet they could discipline. Something they desired against their best interests. But the way he was looking at you with his one good eye, was beyond desire. He looked like he wanted to crawl into your chest and rut on your ribs. 

        You didn't know how to feel, but his companions not being cool with it certainly helped. 

        "Dude, what the fuck?" Mohawk said. "That is- wow, dude. Do you have brain damage?"

        "A little." Lensless eyes unfogged from your control, but not from lust. 

        "A little?" Shoulder Pads questioned. "You've just been disrespected and you've come in your pants- what do you mean a little?"

        Lensless shrugs. "Means what it means, dude."

        The Phantom edged closer. Fingers twitching. Tempted, very, very tempted to rid Lensless of his other eye. 

        You hear a meow, he comes out at the worse time. Caligula bounding from the rubble, meowing and curling himself around your ankles. You bend to grab him. A rush of wind and Lensless is in front of you, holding your cat. Stupid thing is purring with a hand ready to snap his tiny neck.

        "Will you use your powers on me if I kill 'im?" He gasps, realizing something with a grin, "Would you cry too?"

        He'd gone from lustful to violent in a millisecond. Actually, scratch that- he was both at once. He just saw another way to get his rocks off. 

        To answer he question, yes and yes. He can see it in your eyes. He's going to do it.

        Until a fist cracks his jaw, loosening his hold enough for Mohawk to take the cat.

        "Jesus, dude! Relax."

        Lensless laughs, rubbing his jaw, the punch barely fazing him. "Don't act like you care about that thing." 

        "I don't," Mohawk says, Caligula rubbing on his arms. "Killing something this weak is below us."

        "Maybe below you but not me." Lensless reaches for the cat. Mohawk jerks back. You can only watch. Scared if you say something he'll kill your sweet, idiot baby. "Aww come on, you're no fun. Don't you wanna see her cry?"

        Mohawk's gaze slides over you. Considering. Then he's gone in a crack. Returning just as fast, but without Caligula. He opens his mouth just before you start to scream, "Your ugly pet is fine. We'll get it back before we leave, okay babe?"

        You don't know if you believe him. You want to but you're stuck on the promise of 'when we leave'.

        Blood was rushing in your ears, you could barely hear yourself say, "Psychopomp, get up." She did. Balance wavering, blood spurting out where her arms should be connected to her body, pulsing to the beat of her heart. "Revive the others."

        "Hell no." She said. You'd forgotten. 

        A note about mind powers. Generally, they don't work well on other people with mind powers. Even if it's mind powers to raise the dead. And another thing that was working against you- you'd dated, very briefly, four years ago. Two months of sex and coping with your new life. Not finishing high school because of your jail sentence and your new role as Machine Head's grunt. Not going to college, not being with Mark. 

        She wanted to go the distance. Go clean, build a life together. Lesbians are fast with those sorts of decisions. You couldn't, wouldn't. You tried to force her to forget you on your two-month anniversary. Just to find out, psychics have a hard time controlling other psychics. The breakup was a huge blowout. Her calling you every name in the book. Unbelieving that she wanted to move in with you. Demanding you give her Caligula because she was the who wanted him in the first place.

        You kept the cat. Cleansed your phone of her number. Didn't cry over the loss in your life because she wasn't shit. She was a nobody grunt The Order sometimes called on. It made missions with her tense, but you dealt with it. 

        Until. 

        You'd almost died too many times to count. One of which was a deal gone wrong where your bodyguard wound up dead. Your head was next on the concrete chopping block, still dripping with the blood from his neck. You escaped with quick wit, but it scared the shit out of you so bad you redialed her number as a contact. Saved it as contingency twenty-seven. Assumed if you'd call she'd come. Another thing about lesbians, they have a horrible time getting over an ex. Then you never called or texted, forgot about her and who contingency twenty-seven was besides a panic alarm.

        She hadn't said anything today when you called, just came to where you said. Everything had gone so quick you hadn't had time to process that she hadn't been controlled. That she was who she was and somehow, even though years had separated your relationship like the grand canon, she came for you.

        "You're letting yourself die because I didn't take you back?" Usually, you kept relationships, even one night stands, under wraps. You didn't kiss and tell. Except, being ridiculously high was not your usual.

        That gave the bickering between the Mark's pause. 

        Her lip twitched. "You killed my brother, asshole." Oh. She didn't come for you in a romantic sense. She came for revenge, first for the city, then for you. 

        The dark cracks in Phantom's heart deepen. Mohawk smirked, still getting used to the idea that Dregs was not a cute hero name. Shoulder Pad's legs flexed, ready to move, to slice off Psychopomp's head for how she spoke to his pet. The Viltrumite in the sky lowered a degree to hear the drama that much better.

        Guilty as charged. "No, I didn't." You lie, because her little junkie brother didn't pay what he owed so yeah, Machine Head had you kill him. "Multi-Paul did."

        "Multi-Paul was in prison when he went missing." She was swaying. Soon to die if she didn't do something.

        "Not every Multi-Paul." You counter, absolutely full of shit. "Are you really going to let yourself die over an assumption?"

        Her knees looked ready to give when she said, "Up n'attem." 

        Light blinded you. Made Lensless groan and fall on his ass. The light was gone soon as it'd come. 

        The dead rose. Bodies not healed, still dripping and oozing, but crackling with the anger of the recently deceased. "Mercy, fix me."

        The headless body rose her caduceus staff high before slamming its end to the ground. More light. Your headache worsened despite the codeine supposed to be suppressing it. 

        When the light faded, Psychopomp had arms again. She'd gone pale from blood loss, still staggering. She held out her arms, sleeveless and baby-skin smooth, hands glowing as brought back more of the dead. 

           Dog Girl was first to rise, blood still spilling out of her neck. Kidult stood, body facing forward, head facing back. Running Man hobbled forward using arms as legs, guts trailing behind him like streamers. Then there were the civilians. Wes and his coworkers, innocent streetwalkers, alley lurkers, anyone and everyone within a hundred food radius.

        The pièce de résistance? Seventeen, shambling to his feet, fists twitching shut.

        "You're kidding me." Emperor Shoulder Pads sneered, launching forward to put a hole through Psychopomp. "You're seriously making us kill you again?"

        But you'd though ahead, you started speaking the second Psychopomp stared necromancing. The word, "Stop," out of your lips before he could move more than two inches.

        He stills. Hovering an inch off the ground. Body shaking with effort to throw off your control. Eyes wild on you, animal angry.

        Lensless let out a whooping cackle. "Oh thank God! I thought we were already done! This is gonna be awesome, I've never killed a zombie before!" His muscles tense under his suit, weight shifting as he decides who to pounce on first.

        His yelling makes your ears twitch.

        "Be still." You tell him and he is. You turn to the next, "Stay," and the next, "Don't move." You leave out the one in the sky. He hadn't posed a threat yet. 

        You flex your fingers, telling Psychopomp to bring the troops in. Let the zombies get in their first hits before your hold weakens. Which it already was. Nose bleeding, balance wavering, you were so sleepy and heavy-limbed despite the situation. Your heart slowing and vision blurring at the very edges. You knew what it meant. 

        The dead move like a wave. Slipping past you, leaving brushes of blood where they made contact. Fists and feet and bloody stumps came down on the versions of your ex. You refreshed your hold with the same turns of phrase. Bending down to grab the half-drunk bottle and finishing it to hopefully help.

        Throat roadkill raw. Ready to puke again, but you force your stomach to steel. You could puke when they were dead. 

        Except, the zombies, superpowered or not, leave no marks on the Mark's. Save for Seventeen, currently walloping the everloving shit out of Lensless. Socking him again and again, twisting his head side to side with every punch. Jiggling bits of his remaining eyeball falling to the ground.

        You'd have to step in more. Despite the sleepiness washing over you. The blur worsening. Your lips feel slow, tongue heavy, "Hey you," You say to none of them in particular, "Kill eachother."

        The first command you'd set snaps. Lensless is first to move, lunging to Phantom with a cat's yowl. Leaving Mohawk and Emperor Whatever to duke it out. They shear through bodies of the dead. Leaving them deader than before as they move. Throwing punches, kicks and tossing each other into buildings. 

        It lasts about nine seconds before your hold is gone. The command too taxing, too much, too many people at once. 

        They stop all at once. Expressions varying from pissed to entertained. 

        He's on you in an instant. Hand on your throat, holding you feet above the ground. "You-" Shoulder Pads snarls. You kick at the air. Choking around his hand. "Fucking-" Vision goes from blurry to blackening. You hold onto his wrist for support. "Dare?" 

        You try to command him, but you can't. Voice box pressed firm to your larynx. His grip is bruisingly hard, but you know it's absolutely nothing for the likes of him. "I should kill you for that."

        The others were coming. Fists raised. Snarls tight. Even the holier-than-thou angel in the sky was going to touch down. All of them, ready to punch the shit out of him. Not thinking it'd kill their precious in the process.

        Zombies clawed at your feet. Psychopomp reached out, grabbing your ankle, trying to pull you down but only making you feel like a rubber band. Death came from all sides, it'd be quick, but man it'd hurt.

        ***

        His people met up with Mark. He and Eve were en route. One problem solved.

        "How much longer?" He shouted, standing over the teleporter. Techie's arms like blurs.

        Donald returned, holding only souped-up headphones. "The light room is ready with everything, sir."

        "Forty-five seconds!" 

        Cecil threw the headphones on. Speaking loud because he couldn't even hear himself, "We don't have that much time, send me now!" He stepped onto the teleporter platform, hitting the big red button on its side before the techies could protest.

        ***

        Everything happened so fast you couldn't register it. One second four guys were about to hit the guy choking you out so hard it'd shatter your body- the next- you were in a while room falling on your ass. Psyhopomp still holding to your ankle, both of you breathing heavy. The zombies that were touching either of you dropped instantly dead- again. Parts of them that were there seconds ago melted to the floor.

        "Good." A cool voice said, "I was worried it'd do that to you guys instead."

        A hand you hadn't noticed falls from your shoulder. Wrinkled and pale. He steps away, giving you much needed personal space. "Cecil Stedman, head of the GDA." He's tall, frail, and wearing the chunkiest headphones you'd ever seen. "We need your help."

        You move slowly, like you were moving through the same syrup you'd just drank. "Fuck you." You don't know who he is, what's going on, but you didn't want to hear it. You wanted to kill. You wanted to see the fucker who threatened your life die. You didn't want to be here. "Send me back."

        Your threat is a lot less impactful as Psychopomp almost vomits on your shoes. You scoot back with a snarl, though Cecil doesn't seem to mind. 

        "I can see your lips moving kid, but I can't hear you." He taps the headphones. "Got a look at what you can do and I don't want that pointed at me any day."

        Psychopomp scrambled to her knees then to her feet. "You-!"

        Cecil held up a hand, "There's no one to raise from the dead here, save it. I'm not your enemy."

        She swayed, foot to foot, still reeling from blood loss. "You better not be lying."

        "Still can't hear you. I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you're angry. You can be, at them, not me. We need your help, the both of you, to take these Invincible's down. Can't say we'll let you go after that, but you'll have jobs working for us." His gaze slides meaningfully over you, "And not on the streets."

        In your increasing stupor, you slur, "No, send me back. I've got- I've got to kill 'em all."

        He watches your lips move but does nothing to act on your behalf. "Look kid, we're really low on options here, so do me a favor and stop scowling. This'll go a lot easier for you if you cooperate." 

        Your vision goes blacker and blacker. "Send me back." You can't even put power behind your words anymore. Arms going limp by your side. You lay back, heaving, feeling yourself trying to duck and bob the effects of the overdose, "Send... send me..." You pull a bottle from your pocket, fingers too weak to uncap it.

        "Jesus." Cecil says, "You're going blue. Narcan her, now."

        There are hands on you, though you can't see them. All you see is white, Cecil, and Psychopomp. 

        Your head is tilted back, neck supported in a gloved palm. Something plastic is shoved into your nose. The spray shoots down your nasal passage, burning all the way. A scream ripping through your throat before the plunger is all the way down.

        Bone deep. The ache is in everything. Behind your eyes, inside your marrow. You're lying on your side, vomit spewed out on the floor in front of you. Esophagus on fire. The world comes back into focus with your heart beating erratically. 

        Cecil is crouched in front of you. "I know now's not the best time," he says, voice gentle but face hard set, "but I'm really gonna need you to work with me."

        You feel Psychopomp behind you, holding you steady on your side in case you seize. The hands on you are gone. 

        You peel your face off the floor, lucky it wasn't sticky with puke. Cecil holds out a hand to help you up. "Kill him." You say.

        Psychopomp lunges over your body. Hands posed to wring Cecil's neck. "I was hoping you wouldn't do this." A gun flies out of a hidden torso holster and connects with Psychopomp's temple. You don't hear the crack, but she crumples. "Get the muzzle."

        There's an order on the tip of your tongue, before you can look to find out who you're ordering, before the words can come out, a monstrosity of a muzzle is thrown over your jaw. A rubber stopper shoved between your teeth. Leather straps pulled tight as the muzzle is locked tight around your head. You claw, trash, kick but the invisible hands hold you down.

        "I'm sorry we have to do this," he says, not looking sorry at all.

        He touches your shoulder. "Take us there." He says to the emptiness.

        You are gone.

        Then back, in a different place. Green everywhere. Clear blue sky ahead. A quaint town all around you. Abandoned.

        You're on the ground. Grass soft under your bloodstained sweats. Cecil stands over you, his invisible men holding your hands behind your back. 

         Cecil looked down at you, "Tristan De Cunha." He says, "Most remote island on the planet. Used to be a town before the US Government bought it back in twenty-twelve. The safest place on the planet to be- for now."

        You writhe, uncaring about geography. 

        Cecil lets the headphones slide down to his neck. He presses a finger to his ear, "Muscle and bone density?" He asks.

        "That of an average human," comes a flat reply. Nothing special about you. 

        Cecil nods to himself, suspicion confirmed. "Good." He nodded his chin toward something behind you. "Don't let her hands free while you lock 'er up." 

        You're pulled ass backwards. Heels dragging, the only part of you touching the ground. It's no use. They're strong, and though you can't see them, they outnumber you three to one. Cecil follows, frowning. 

        You're pressed to a cold pole, moss crawling up the sides. At night its bulb used to come alive after sunset but now, on this southern island God knows where, it does not. Your arms are thrown behind your back. Something heavy is locked around one wrist. Secured so tough it nearly cuts off the circulation. You try to free your other arm, but just like the other, it is locked into the device. The pieces are sealed together in a massive metal cuff made for a berserker- not you. 

        The invisible soldiers step back. Their boots pressing imprints to the grass. "Thanks, boys." Cecil nods as they zap away. "Teleporter's fully online now." He says to himself more than you. "Look kid, I'm gonna do something you're not gonna like." If you could talk you'd ask 'more than you already have?' Reading your eyes, he says, "Things'll get worse before they get better. Just remember, after this you'll have a job with us."

        From his pocket comes a phone. He taps to the camera app and starts recording, only his face in frame.

        "Invincible, the people of Earth surrender." It's a lie, through and through, "No more military might will be sent your way. All governments are to stand down effective immediately. The planet is yours." The message could've ended there but instead he pans he camera down. To you muzzled, cuffed to a pole, uselessly fighting against metal and concrete. "As a show of good faith, we have (Y/n) (L/n) waiting for you on  Tristan De Cunha island. Two thousand five hundred miles east of Buenos Aires, one thousand five hundred miles west of Cape Town. We will make contact within the hour after she's been collected for negotiations." He ended the recording, pulled his hand through his remaining hair and sighed. "It's about the most obvious trap I've ever set but it just might work." 

        He sent the recording off. "That'll be playing on loop on every speaker and screen round the whole world in two minutes." His smile is wry, tired, uneven with scar tissue. "Don't let the fame get to your head." The smile drops as soon as appeared, "If they unmask you, don't do anything stupid. I'm sure I don't have to tell you twice, but these people are dangerous." You glare up at him, willing his head to explode. It doesn't. Your breathing is heavy. Saliva pooling around the muzzle bit. "You've got about ten minutes before they're all here so uh, brace yourself. We'll be watching."

        He disappears in a bolt of white-blue. You are alone, but not for long.

[kirbyfigure]

he's like 4 apples tall rn

[theinkquiry]

i've been looking at you so long now i only see me caleb x reader (mc)

word count: 4.5k tags: Alternative Ending to Homecoming Wings, Because we couldn't just let it end like that! “You can’t protect me forever.” You reached up with your free hand to cup his face. This was the closest you’ve really gotten to seeing him since he’s come back to you. He leans into your touch. “I can and I will.” He speaks with such conviction. The tone is familiar even if the empty stare accompanying his words is not. “But you didn’t." Things come to a head on your last day in Skyhaven. This wasn't the Caleb you knew. You weren't the same girl he left behind. You still love him anyway. (homecoming wings and it's completely different but also still homecoming wings.)

ao3 link (also in the fic title): https://archiveofourown.org/works/63833728

Three days. He said it like it was no time at all, but it was long enough to make you begin questioning your sanity. To say you were traumatized all over again by the sudden appearance of Caleb with the Farspace Fleet was an understatement. You pushed the initial concerns aside. He was here, alive. That was all that mattered, or so you thought. 

The routine was too typical. Too easy. You never dared let yourself imagine what it would be like to have him breathing in front of you again. But of all the possibilities you could have conjured, to simply keep carrying on was not one of them. Carrying on was what you did when he left. It wasn’t how he was supposed to come back to you. 

You didn’t even know if he was supposed to come back to you.

He had you down against the couch after three days of unending rain. Your petulant nature once again gets you into hot waters with him. You were pushing the same buttons, but the commands were not the same. His words simmer with a cold flame. 

“No one will ever be able to find you ever again. I’ll protect you forever.”

There it was again. His unending need to shield you from all the world’s harms. It was touching when you were children. Romantic, even. Growing up, you slowly lost the concept of what it felt like to be truly afraid. There were the thunderstorms and the usual mean kids on the block. You were comforted by the notion that Caleb would always be there. That you would never be alone, just like he promised. 

But now your heart thundered in your chest as your eyes stared into his. The purple-grey storm brewing behind his gaze pinned you down like nothing you’ve ever felt before. There was a gnawing sensation that you didn’t want to admit, a fear whose source you dare not name. 

What if I told you I was always like this?

Since he said them moments ago, you’ve been trying to make sense of the words. As much pride as Caleb took in being able to see through you, it came at the expense of you being able to peer right back at him. Those words weren’t total lies, but they weren’t the full picture either. A half-truth. The Caleb you knew could be mischievous and cheeky towards you, sure. But he never did anything as underhanded as keep you locked up for days on end. A half-explanation. Even after so many questions and days to get his side of the story, he was still keeping things from you. A half-Caleb. Something was still wrong. He never used to make you feel so… alone . 

He still had you pinned underneath him. His grip was strong, but you don’t think either of you were putting your full strength into fighting with each other. Even after looking at him so many times, here, alive , you still had to bite back tears each time.

This was the closest you’ve really gotten to seeing him since he’s come back to you. 

He leans into your touch. “I can and I will.” He speaks with such conviction. The tone is familiar even if the empty stare accompanying his words is not.

“But…” The air was so still. You hated it. In fact, you’ve hated every minute of the last three days. It wasn’t just that Caleb was lying to you. It wasn’t that he’d leave you with nothing to do but sit and try not to cry and end up crying whenever he left anyway. It was that you wanted to talk to him again. You wanted the easiness of your Caleb back. The Caleb you whispered secrets to under cover of dark. Not this half-stranger, half… 

Friend? Family? He was always just Caleb. You never had any other word to describe who he was to you. You never needed one. But whatever he was to you, it was not this. Something had to give. You were either going to get half of the past back, or you were going to confront something new. None of which would be accomplished if you kept biting back your words or if he kept avoiding you like this. 

For all of his swift acting and nonchalant attitude, you knew something was off with Caleb no matter how much he denied it. Or maybe he wasn’t “off” at all, and the person you dedicated your entire life to really was a mirage. You were never the quickest to pick up on things. You may not be the smartest. But what you did know was that, even if Caleb was entirely right and he hadn’t changed at all in the months since the explosion, you did. 

Your voice was soft. “But you didn’t protect me, Caleb.” 

You curled your hand that was still pinned down into a fist. Not to resist him, but to let him feel the tension in your muscle. He opened his mouth, ready to shut you down again. You didn’t let him. 

“You didn’t come visit me at the hospital after the fires.” 

You remembered the sterile white walls and the too-thin sheets. 

“You weren’t there when I dug through the ashes, trying to find something, anything left of you and Gran.” 

The suffocating smoke lingered in your lungs, no matter how much the doctors told you that you were clear. 

“You aren’t there when I’m out on missions fighting Wanderers.” 

Work. Heavens, did work bring a whole new layer of pain. It was one thing to be the only survivor. It was another to survive day in and day out as skittish coworkers fumbled through apologies and tip-toed around you like fragile glass. Even if that was exactly what you were. 

“You weren’t there when I couldn’t eat for days because all I wanted was your food. You weren’t there for the nightmares that I still have because every time I close my eyes I just see that day over and over again.” 

You don’t realize how much you’re shaking until Caleb’s grip finally loosens. His facade begins to crumble as you see your own heartbreak reflected back in his eyes. He was lost for a moment. The strength seemed to slip away from him as his hands hovered uneasily. Unsure of whether he ought to let go or hang on. You didn’t give him a chance to decide as you entwined your hand with his. You weren’t going to let him slip away again. You needed him to ground you. 

“You weren’t there when I had to bury the absence of you in an empty grave. So no, Caleb. You didn’t protect me.” 

Surprise flashed across his face for the first time in a long while. A sickly satisfaction took root in your gut. Caleb, who always thought he knew best about everything when it came to you, at last confronted with his own contradictions. The bitter victory went as soon as it came.  

“It was all for your own good.” His justification was so predictable you almost laughed. “It was the only way to make sure you were safe.” 

You shook your head. Caleb may think that he was doing it all to keep you safe. He may even be right that you were safer thinking that he was dead. At the same time, you never felt such raw vulnerability as you did while believing Caleb was gone from this world. Your entire perspective shifted. Who you were as a person changed. It had to. You had your own apartment in Linkon, but it wasn’t home. You had to make peace with the fact that you were the only one who could make a home for yourself. Everyone you held in relation to you was gone. You learned to define yourself apart from those who left you. 

Perhaps the reason why it was so hard to talk to Caleb now was that you were also changed. Caleb’s death rocked your very foundations, and you came out the other side by reconstructing your personhood by yourself, brick by brick. Did he notice it? All the changes you underwent because of him. For the last week or so he’d give you these stares which you found puzzling. It reminded you of whenever he misplaced his phone or forgot his thought mid-sentence. You were right there, so what was he looking for? 

From your closer vantage now, you realized that searching wasn’t the only thing about his eyes. It was almost like pleading, begging even. You may have reunited physically, but you’d hardly found each other again at all. 

“I was the one who learned to bear the thunderstorms at night, alone. I was the one who showed up to family-at-work day events, alone. I was the one who learned to live in a world without you. All alone. So don’t accuse me of trying to go back there.” 

Each word of yours left a cut in him. At last he was open, without retort. He tried to avoid your gaze. Your thumb and index fingers guided him back towards you again. “You left me to grieve you, all alone.” 

He didn’t get to look away. If he wanted you to see him, you needed him to see you as well. An unconscious resistance gripped his body, yet he couldn’t break away. You knew the feeling well. It was exactly the sensation of being in that interrogation chair the first time you came face to face with the Colonel. 

“Don’t leave me again, Caleb.” You don’t notice that you’re crying again until his thumb wipes away your tears. Your voice trembles as you say it again. “Please, don’t leave me.” 

For the first time, he seems to understand what your words meant without misconstruction. He continues to brush your tears aside even as he’s holding back his own. “I’m here. I’m here now.” He said it as if he was also trying to convince himself. 

You let go of him and, for the briefest moment neither of you are touching the other. You wonder what he sees of himself in your eyes. Two mirrors, forever destined to reflect back at each other until you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. As you looked and looked and looked, you found what you were searching for. What you found was, frankly, a mess. Then again, so were you. And the discovery sent your heart aflutter as something in this hellscape of a world finally made sense to you again. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down beside you, throwing yourself into his chest. “You’re here.” A statement so obvious that it makes you laugh. But the laughter quickly devolves back into crying. You cling to him like a lifeline because you really don’t want him to go. Because for the first time since you set eyes on him again did you fully process that Caleb wasn’t just ‘not dead’, no. Regardless of the technicalities between life and death, for all intents and purposes he very much did die. 

Now you could hear his voice. Touch the tears on his cheeks. Hear his heartbeat pounding. “You’re really here.” 

Caleb brushed his hands through your hair. You wondered if it was more of a gesture to calm you, or if it was to soothe himself. “I’ve always held myself back and endured. Day, after day, after day. It was suffocating.” His breath shuddered with each sentence. While you were mourning, Caleb was facing his own struggles. You didn’t know the details. He wouldn’t tell you if you asked. At least not right now. 

He’s in a better place now , is what people would say to you in the early days of dealing with his absence. You wonder if Caleb told himself that about you, wherever he was. That even though you both possessed two different sides to the same tragic story, you both pushed forward in the hopes of reaching some semblance of a happier ending. Perhaps the reason why he put up such an aggressive front whenever you said you didn’t need him was to hide from the fact that he also needed you. 

Caleb curled himself around you, leaning closer to your ear. “All I ever wanted was to come back to you.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t.” He choked on the words like they were poison down his throat. You try to filter his words into something intelligible. I did it to protect you.

“Oh, Caleb-” You hold onto him tighter- “but who was protecting you?” 

He buried his face into your hair and let out a painful sob. His whole body shook as the rain hit the glass windows. His presence screamed, I’m tired . You held a steady hand to his back as his shoulders heaved up and down. His breath came out ragged and uneven. I’m so tired . Just as he did to you many times before, you held him through the panic and shushed away his fears. 

You would protect him, even if you didn’t know what doing so looked like yet. You could have run away, called for help, brought down the entire building if your hatred and anger were genuine. In truth, you were scared for him. You wanted to monitor him. Figure out why there was a sudden darkness emanating from his being when he thought you were turned the other way. If staying away from you was genuine protection, then returning to your arms was no coincidence. Somewhere in his subconscious, he was reaching out to you. 

You were not going to let him go. Not again. 

The two of you lay curled into each other as a single mass. The sensation was oddly familiar. You couldn’t quite place it. A far away, cold place. Someone’s warm hand in yours. A vow to never be apart. A boy whose reassurance put you at ease even if the smile never quite reached his eyes. Was there once a time just like this one when everything lay so far out of control? When there was nothing to do except hold the other as tight as you could, crying and wishing for brighter days ahead. Or simply an end to the darkness. 

A cacophony of tearful whispers and sniffles mixed with the sound of never-ending droplets pitter-pattering around your cellophane birdcage. You thought by now you would have run out of tears for Caleb. Yet it didn’t feel so much like you were crying for him so much as you were crying on his behalf. And he, yours. All the pain and regret built up to be released like a message in a bottle to the sea. The glass object containing all the apologies too late to say, all the memories you didn’t get to make, bundled up and set adrift to whatever mysterious fate the waters held in store for it. Drifting and drifting, casual and random, into the fog of your mind until it was gone entirely. 

All that’s left is you, and Caleb, and the words you get to say to him now. 

“Caleb.” His name is, at last, comfortable in your mouth again. He senses it too, eyes flitting to yours with none of the harshness that you’ve detested growing accustomed to. 

He speaks your name with the same care. As if you were giving it back to each other. 

“If I stay, would you really accept me? As I am now?”

“I already accepted every version of you. The boy from my childhood. My pretend-boyfriend who was off to college. The Farspace Fleet Colonel.” You pressed your forehead against his. “I even accepted you dead. Because you wanted me to, right?” He took a shuddered breath as you brushed stray strands of hair away from his eyes. His hand encircled your wrist again. Absent was the forcefulness from before. His grasp this time was desperate. A silent apology for all the pain he’s caused you. 

You rest your palm atop his hand, an assurance that you weren’t going anywhere. “I never wanted you to be anything other than my Caleb.” 

His eyes widened, gleaming at the sound of the last two words leaving your lips. You honestly surprised yourself with your candor. It couldn’t be helped, really. Not when he was finally his unfiltered self. Take away all the heaviness surrounding the two of you bearing in from the outside world, and you’re left with a Caleb that you only thought you could see in your dreams. Laying by your side, holding your hand, like he only wanted to pull you in closer. 

“I like you like this…” You find yourself inching closer naturally. Were you in a more teasing mood, you might have accused him of using his Evol to draw you in. “I like being with you like this.” 

“Like how?” He asks. You were both too tired for any more games. Chase the other too long, and you’d only end up going in circles. 

You run a finger down his face. How many scars were there that you couldn’t see? “Next to me. Beside me. Not pushing me back, where I can’t see you. Or leaving me behind, where I can’t reach you.” Your finger trails along down his neck, past his shoulders, towards his back. “I like… you.”

You blink. The realization landed like a feather on a still pond, but hit you like a meteor. “I like you.” You say it in a full breath. You say it to see the way Caleb’s eyes swirl with stars. You say it because it’s the thing you’ve been trying to say this whole time. 

 “Just figured that out?” He means to tease, but his voice gives away the vulnerability lurking just behind. The arm around your waist freezes. His weariness leaves him with no defenses. You see in full for the first time how his eyes search yours for something. An answer? Permission? 

You lean in and close the distance. It’s soft at first, the kiss. Hesitant. A ghost of your lips on his. A test of the waters. You lean back for his response, unprepared for the raw emotion you’re met with. 

His hold on you is a plea of the most desperate. Tears prick at his eyeline again. He opens his mouth only to close it again. A million unspoken questions, unsure which is the right to ask. “Please,” is all he can manage. “ Please. ” 

When it’s clear that you are going to kiss him again, his body takes over. He pulls you into him, fervently and entirely. You can’t form proper thoughts, as if his own weaved into your mind with each press of his lips against yours. He moves a bit clumsily, but with the surety of a man too long deprived. Little gasps leave his mouth each time he pulls away. “I can’t believe-”

Caleb kisses you before he can finish his own sentence. Delirious to the point where he didn’t even realize he was speaking aloud.

“You’re so-”

He gets drunk on it. The way you fit so easily with him. The small breaths you take in between his. Your hooded eyes as you meet him halfway each time. 

He calls your name like it’s sacred. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You grab at his shirt in an effort to steady yourself. You continue to kiss as you let yourself be guided underneath him. His hands know exactly where to hold to make you feel at home. You reach up to hold his face again, gently this time cradled between your hands. “You always have me.” 

Caleb keeps pushing down until you’re flush against the couch. He kisses you softer, yet with the same rush as if you were made of sand that could slip through his fingers at any moment. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You’ll repeat it as many times as he needs. “And you?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yours.” 

You put your hands on his broad shoulders before he can kiss you again. The disappointment is immediate, but he waits. He always waits. There’s a softness to his features as he tilts his head a little. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, I just-” It felt silly to admit. “I just like looking at you.” 

The smile he gave you tugged at your heart. You felt tears welling again, this time from relief. If he was able to read you before, you were able to read him right back. With all his defenses lowered, it was like opening the pages of your favorite book. 

I’m here . Your whole being was reaching for him.

I’m yours . Caleb handles you with care. Not because you’re breakable, but because you’re treasured. He brushes aside your hands, guiding them back down to rest on the plush surface of his couch. 

I’ve always been yours. He presses his lips to your forehead first, then your nose. You can’t help a small laugh. His eyes crinkle in response and you know that, this time, he is asking for permission. You grant it. 

Without a word, he carries you up in his arms. Where you find yourself next is the home you had missed. It’s not entirely familiar. It isn’t the summer sun as he walks back with you on the last day of school or the first hug you gave him after he graduated from the DAA. Clumsy limbs and racing hearts. Your small gasps and the reverence with which he calls your name. 

But you know it all the same, the way he makes the entire world fade into the backdrop, taking you someplace outside of time and space. You were two halves of the same whole, split apart. Coming back together.

Between it all there is a gnawing sensation that the peace was fragile. Two split parts were bound to grow, to cover up the scars left behind by their torn half. The pieces would never fit quite right again, not without cutting back into the other. 

His hand grips your waist and you take deep breaths against his neck. 

The questions, the technicalities, they were all for tomorrow.  

For now, you let yourself be content just as you are. You and Caleb. One and two. Caleb and you. Somewhere along the way you stopped having lines of your own and let yourself bleed into him, and he into you. His hot breath fans the side of your face. You make a thousand silent promises to one another, though you both know keeping all of them is impossible. If even a handful survive, you’d take it.

If the sky clears sometime in the night, you don’t notice. 

At dawn on the fourth day, you see him off at the airfield. It’s the same as all the other times you’ve seen him off. Almost. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to him in his Colonel’s uniform. It doesn’t look bad, few things did on Caleb, but it was another reminder that things were different now. 

He was different now. Only time would prove whether that was a good or bad thing. 

“Make sure to look after yourself. Eat three full meals a day and go to bed before dawn. You got that, pipsqueak?” Caleb ruffles your hair.

You swat away his hand in annoyance. “Caleb! As if the Skyhaven winds weren’t already bad enough for my hair.” 

Some things would never change. 

An alarm blares. Several Fleet members rush toward their ships. Caleb shouts something over to his crew, but you don’t hear it. The sun was out in full force after the storm, though the chill of the morning air prevented its full heat from blanketing where you stood. You squinted against the rays, following a particular glint of silver around Caleb’s neck. 

“Well, I guess it’s time to say goodbye.” Caleb takes a step towards you, but stops himself from going any further. There it was. That strange hesitance lingering over him like smoke. 

You used to let him walk away on his own. This time, you cross over to him. “Not a goodbye.” You smooth down his shirt before reaching up to tease out his dog tags. You look up at him, defiant. “See you next time.” 

Whatever he sees in your eyes puts him at ease. A gentle smile graces his features as he echoes your words. You hate the uncertainty in his eyes. You swear to yourself that you’d clear the cloudiness. That shade of violet which is pure, unburdened. You’ll take all that’s grey and wilting about him into yourself if that’s what it took to bring back some of his shine. 

You do what you weren’t brave enough to do before. Looping a finger through his silver chain, you tug him down and press a firm kiss to his lips. It is determinedly quick, but the full effects were felt. Caleb cupped your face and stole a second, then a third. 

The sound of spacecraft engines cuts through the air. He sighs. “You’re not making this any easier.”

“Have I ever?”

“No,” Caleb chuckles. He gives you a look. He could tell, you think, that you too have changed. “You never do.” 

You don’t know if things will ever truly go back to being easy, if they ever were in the first place. Caleb adjusts the cap on his head and gives your hand a final squeeze. A crinkle draws your attention, and you feel old paper against your palm. 

“What’s…” You smooth out the yellowed scrap and scoff once you see the old coupon. You look up to find that his remorse is genuine. You don’t ask what forgiveness he’s asking for. Nothing and everything, is what he’ll say. Instead, you slap the paper back on his chest. “Coupon denied.” 

“Excuse me?” He let out a laugh that he didn’t even expect. “It’s not expired!”

“It’s invalid.” You retort, folding your arms and giving him your sternest glare. “There’s nothing to apply the coupon to.”

“But-”

“Save it.” His hand ghosts over where yours rests, right above his heart. You feel every beat drumming underneath your fingertips. “Save it, and come back to me.” 

A kaleidoscope of emotions flits across his face. He’s holding back the truth. He wants to tell you off. He needs to kiss you again. All these confusing and wonderful things bundle up to make your Caleb. You meant what you told him yesterday. Whether he was finding a way to claw back to who he was, or whether he was entirely changed, you would be there waiting for him. Just as he’s waited for you all those years before. 

“I will.” 

[myokk]

✨MASTERLIST✨

(fanart, longfics, oneshots)

Welcome to my blog!!! Here is my masterlist of ALL of my little sketches, artwork, writing, and general brainrot related to Hogwarts Legacy💘

🌿 - Madeleine / Maddy / myokk

🌱 - AO3

🌿 - likes and follows come from my main blog, @oerflink, because this is a sideblog (🥲)

🌱 - Eloise Babbit, my MC and basically the whole reason for this blog🫶 I don’t necessarily view her as the game’s MC, as my fic is quite canon-divergent and she is sweeter than the evil gremlin I played in-game😆💓 [link to her character sheet]

🌿 - my art tag🫶🫶🫶 here you can see basically every drawing I've done since joining the fandom!

🌱 - tag for all of the art the lovely people here have gifted me🥹🥹🥹 I feel SO honored whenever anyone takes time out of their day to think of me and draw my little gremlin♥️♥️

🌿 - I am taking oneshot requests! The link gives a bit of my guidelines, if you’re interested send me an ask🫶

Writing:

Before It Felt Like A Sin (AO3 / tumblr - ongoing)

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC, canon divergent, longfic, wip, dual pov Eloise/Sebastian

Summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

Tags: slow burn, angst, magical theory, mythology references, pureblood culture, occlumency, legilimency, hurt/comfort, family dynamics, eventual romance, eventual smut, sacrificial magic, blood magic, dark magic rituals, implied/referenced child abuse

[coming soon] - an excerpt from the Ominis longfic I’m working on💘

Oneshots:

clumsy (AO3 / tumblr)

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 9,1k

rating: E

summary: sebastian is clumsy.

or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be.

cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving), no y/n

note-taking (AO3 / tumblr)

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3,6k

rating: M (language and sexual themes)

summary: mc loves flustering sebastian with her notes during class😇

cw: NONE this is just fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, it takes a while for them to admit their feelings, I rated it M for some language/sexual themes

marry me (AO3 / tumblr)

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 5,4k

rating: M (not really explicit loss of virginity)

summary: in which Garreth Weasley has a potions mishap that causes MC to become incomprehensibly proper, and Sebastian is going mad.

cw: fluff, mutual pining, giant squid guest appearance, marriage proposal, loss of virginity RATED M (not *really* explicit) smut (18+ ONLY)

legilimency (AO3 / tumblr)

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

word count: 1,7k

rating: M (language)

summary: (His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

or: The Gryffindor student has caught on that Ominis can read her thoughts and decides to get her revenge.

tags: ominis is a natural legilimens, he is entirely too introspective, fluff, no y/n

remembering the snow (AO3 / tumblr / tumblr (old))

pairing: Imelda Reyes x Poppy Sweeting

word count: 3,3k

rating: G

summary: Imelda remembers the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

or: a character study on Imelda and how she grew up because I love her & she doesn't get enough appreciation :)

tags: character study, fluff, romance, first kiss, emotional hurt/comfort, I just wanted to write a sweet story & explore Imelda as a character

Illustrated scenes:

(aka where I illustrate little scenes from my longfic and oneshots💓)

🌿 - the summer before Sebastian and Anne’s first year at Hogwarts🥺💓

🌱 - Sebastian hates Eloise’s guts😳

🌿 - Eloise is really, really bad at chess😔 (this scene always makes me laugh SO MUCH)

🌱 - right after the pensieve scene🫶🫶🫶

🌿 - Eloise and Sebastian’s first kiss😇😇😇

🌱 - some angst after their first kiss😇😇😇

🌿 - sebastian overthinks things a lot😔

🌱 - an excerpt from my oneshot, clumsy💘

🌿 - another scene from my clumsy 🫶 I really love writing Sebastian’s pov & this was just so much fun to paint and write😫💓

🌱 - Eloise and her mother😔

🌿 - Eloise is NOT flustered by Sebastian😤

🌱 - late night in the common room 🫠

🌿 - comic of note-taking 😇

🌱 - right before *that* scene in clumsy 🫶 (as requested by Mallow bc of the lighting🤭)

[rollingthundeeeer]

XAVIER NIGHTLY RENDEZVOUS 💙

ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ/ᴜꜱᴇ

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ʀᴇɴᴅᴇᴢᴠᴏᴜꜱ ⤵ [ ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ ] [ ꜱʏʟᴜꜱ ] [ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ ]

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴

[kykyonthemoon]

Till The Break Of Dawn

That girl was Death, and she came to see me on my twenty-seventh birthday.

── .✦ Zayne (Dawnbreaker) x MC (Female Reader)

── .✦ Tags: oneshot, angst, open ending, multiverse, AU, loops, MC is referred to as "Dawn" in this fic, first pov (Zayne's), side characters: Jas, Astra.

── .✦ Word count: ~3k

── .✦ Ky Ky's note: This fic is for my friend Le Juan, and all the Zayne's girlies out there. Happy Moonlit Orchid Day (or Qixi)! <3

It's also my very first time writing for Dawnbreaker.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

when death

takes my hand

i will hold you with the other

and promise to find you

in every lifetime

— commitment (Rupi Kaur)

Rain. Tiny translucent and frigid particles plummeted into this dark world. The rain fell from the opulent downtown area to the deteriorating, abandoned structures. Under the torrent of water, be it human or monster, it was all the same.

Slow, worn-out steps came to a halt in front of a building that had long since fallen asleep in nature's embrace. Blood trickled over the ground and spread a poisonous tint in the water, yet it had no stain on the pristine white jasmine blossoms flourishing in that desolate place.

Jasmine bid me farewell in my last moments. Perhaps this life was not that dreadful to me after all.

My body crumbled. The rain welcomed me. Cold. The sweet scent of jasmine soared throughout the wind. With my final breath, I extended my hand forward. The hand was smeared with so much blood, from both human and Wanderers, and I knew I was not deserving of it. But I had just the desire to touch it once. My pure jasmine petals.

I had simply sought for one favor; let me dwell in those tranquil dreams with the girl I had always revered.

It appeared as if I heard her voice in the breeze; such melodies to my ears, lulling me into somnolence. I was determined to find her this time, forever.

“Zayne?… Zayne?…”

Someone ran to me from the other side, behind the jasmine bush. She was waiting for me. Just a little more…

“Zayne!”

Her warm fingers connected with mine. I awoke at that very time. Was she calling me, or someone who looked identically to me in the dream?

I opened my eyes and saw her there. She donned a dark robe that swept above the street. She sat down beside me and turned my cold body over. That was her. It was truly her.

Each drop of rain landed on her hair, which had barely emerged from the hood of her cloak, wiping the blood stains from my face. My lips moved silently. I ached to tell her how long I had been waiting for this moment. I had always waited for her. And my wish came true.

That girl was akin to my dream. Her eyes fixed on mine, revealing a mix of astonishment and sadness. But her expression was cold. Where was the brilliant smile that brought luminescence into my otherwise miserable life? I desired it.

Trembling. My fingers moved towards her lips. I begged for her mercy  and to grant me this one wish. Yet she spoke before I could touch her: 

"Zayne." Yes, it was my name. But I knew she was calling me, not the Zayne she had loved in her dream. "Dawnbreaker."

This was the real me, in this world.

"I came here to take you away." Her voice was quite sorrowful. Had I disregarded her with my unkempt appearance and stained hands? This was not the meeting I had hoped for, but I was delighted to have found her. Or it was she who found me.

Winds. The bell chimed midnight. The cold seeped into my thick layers of clothing. The girl's scarlet lips parted again as she drew closer and murmured:

"Take my hand."

She seized mine. There was something in her eyes. Death. Then I suddenly realized something.

That girl was Death, and she came to see me on my twenty-seventh birthday.

It is said that when a person dies, their entire life flashes before their eyes. For me, there was more than just one.

Countless sights that resembled fractured, patched recollections flashed before my eyes. They were my life, yet not really. I knew them well yet felt as if we were complete strangers. I was once a foreseer on the icy throne, I was once a god hidden in the deep mountains, I was once a doctor in the modern day,... Among countless variables, there was only one thing that remained constant: her. 

In each piece of memory, I always found her, my girl. It was always her dying heart, and I was fighting against fate to save her. The instant my life ended, our jasmine flower withered. Then everything went back to where it started.

As midnight was also the time when a new day began.

At first, I could not comprehend what was happening. Everything happened in the same order: I met her, loved her, she was going to die, and I sacrificed my life for her. Our identities might differ, and our decisions might not be precisely the same, yet the ending never changed. I began to vaguely feel that a certain hand had intervened in the flow of our life, driving her and me to follow such a predetermined path.

And suddenly I was Dawnbreaker. In this life, I failed to find her. I had always assumed she just existed in my fantasies. It was not until my death that I discovered she had been seeking for me all along.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the midst of a thriving jasmine garden. A person's fuzzy shadow appeared ahead of me. At first, I believed it was her, yet as I drew closer, I noticed it was a boy who seemed quite familiar.

"Georgie?"

No, that was not Georgie. The boy with that name had abruptly vanished before my eyes. The individual standing here was someone else who resembled Georgie.

"Hello, Zayne." The small child spoke. I had no idea who he was. However, I got the feeling that we had known each other for a long time, since innumerable lifetimes ago.

"I'm not Georgie." The boy added. "I only took the shape of someone you used to know so that I could communicate to you without causing any disturbance in this reality. If you don't like it, I can turn into a snowflake, a cat or something else.”

“You are?”

"Jas." He responded. "I am Jas. Perhaps you forgot about me. But I remember you, and her."

The name rang like a bell, reawakening something that had been asleep inside me. I asked:

“She… And you. Have we known each other before?”

Jas grinned mysteriously. “Shouldn't all the answers be right in front of you at this point?”

“Who are you exactly?”

The child went around the garden like a butterfly. A moment later, he replied:

“I am nobody. I am merely an illusion created by her and you a long, long time ago.”

“So… this garden is also an illusion?”

“It's all an illusion.” Jas replied. “This garden and all the flowers here are.”

I looked around. Each blooming jasmine brought back memories of a lifetime spent with her. I found myself ready to ask Jas a few questions about the flowers, but as if reading my thoughts, he immediately replied:

"That's right. Every jasmine here represents a life you once shared with her.”

I cast a gaze across the seemingly endless garden. There was no evidence of the girl anywhere. I wanted to find her, to call her name. Yet, I had no comprehension of what she was dubbed in this life.

"She is Death. In this realm, she has no name." Jas said as if he could read the thoughts written on my face. "But you may call her anything you want. She permits you to."

Hence, from that moment on, I decided that she would be my Dawn.

Dawn represented Death in this world. Her duty was to send the deceased to their proper resting place. She had seen me in the abandoned street, where I drained a soul out of torment before they were hauled into eternal darkness, and their body became a monster. She was always watching me, yet I could only see her when life left me. Dawn, like me, had spent her countless existences in this garden. 

Jas spoke again, directing my attention back to him:

“Stop looking. She's not here. But before you go mad and run to find her, listen to the remainder of the story first. Shall we?”

I had no alternative since Jas began shortly before I could say anything. Following along the boy's footsteps, I felt as if I were lost in another garden similar to this one, but in a distant timeline.

In the past, this jasmine garden was once the residence of a goddess. Although she was merely a minor deity, her fate was tied to the survival of that world. That divine being was Dawn.

She was born from the purest energies of heaven and earth. That was why, with each cycle, she would have to sacrifice her life, offering her flesh and blood to continue nourishing that world. Then she would be reincarnated in her former body, forgetting all about her previous life. Just as the end of day gives way to darkness, and the breaking of dawn marks the start of a new day.

Things were always going to be like this, then one day, she fell in love.

The person she loved was chosen by Astra - the god of creation - to inherit his power and pass on his will to humanity. She was originally sent by Astra to assist him in training, but in the end, she proved to be his greatest challenge.

"Zayne…" She cried out his name, the person who had always been at her side. They traveled the world together, battled side by side, and defended each other. In the end, they arrived at Mt. Eternal, which marked the boundary between the human and divine realms. Overcoming many obstacles, they learned the mystery that Astra had kept concealed for so long.

Astra, the deity that Dawn considered her father, turned out to want nothing more than to take away the power of heaven and earth that she possessed. Every time she died, he became stronger by taking her energies. Every time she reincarnated, he would bring her back and care for her as if she were his daughter, earning her trust until she ultimately sacrificed herself for a false greater cause. But in this existence, she met Zayne.

"If divine power can't protect those important to me, then I shall need nothing from it."

Zayne had made a decision. Dawn went with him to search for Astra, pretending that he would personally sacrifice her as a present to him while they plotted for the murder of the god. However, they were unaware that they were sliding into Astra's predetermined trap.

How did both of his instruments slip out of his grasp so easily? Astra separated the two, robbed their memories and encased those in jasmine. The new Zayne and Dawn began a new life, unaware of each other and with no memory of their preceding love.

But they still found each other. The thread of fate had long ago bound both of them. Dawn, like in her previous life, must die in accordance with Astra's wishes. And Zayne was always trying to save her. The moment he surrendered his life for hers, the flow of time halted. The entire world came to an abrupt end, then it started all over again.

Astra experimented thousands and thousands of times. The jasmine garden housed every existence of the star-crossed lovers, trapping them eternally in the cycle of love and death. They appeared to have discovered this secret after their first few lifetimes. Every time the flow of time was reestablished, their memories were erased. However, simply encountering each other again caused them to fall in love anew; and whether Zayne remembered or forgot, he would always give his life to the one he loved.

"Don't cry…" Zayne was lying in her arms. He was standing before her. He was leaning onto her shoulder... Their circumstances would alter, but there was always that final moment when she wept and grasped his hand.

They had just recently retrieved some recollections of their past lives before being forced to part ways again.

"Don't cry…" This time, Zayne had her in his arms. His back was against the debris of the collapsed research room. The blanket of snow sprayed over, bringing chilling temperatures. They were on Mt. Eternal in another timeline. Yet even this time, Zayne gave up his life to save Dawn.

She shook her head, tears flowing. They were so close to discovering the truth they had been seeking for so long. They had almost broken this curse of eternal reincarnation. Yet in the end, Astra was one step ahead.

"Hold my hand…" Zayne clasped hers. Death reached his remaining arm and froze it. "As long as you hold my hand like this… I will be able to find you… in the next life…"

"Do you promise?"

"Yes…"

Zayne had not once broken his vow to her. However, if she did not truly die, Astra could not obtain the power he sought. The jasmine garden grew wider with each new life and reboot. He must put an end to this.

As a result, he designed a life in which she became Death, and Zayne could only find her at his very last breath.

"Astra believes that if you die before meeting her, you won't be able to die for her anymore."

Jas' voice sounded out. We returned to the Jasmine Garden. Although the location was the same, this was not Astra's first garden. Dawn and I had poured our powers into this garden. Many eons ago, we had uncovered Astra's secret and secretly created this place as a safe haven away from the wicked deity. Jas was the spirit that guarded the garden and guided Dawn and me back here anytime we recalled something critical. Dawn discovered Jas before I did.

"There were two mistakes Astra made." He said. "First, he tried to control and take her power, unaware that each time she was reborn, the energy source within her grew stronger as well. Second, he was naive to believe he could separate the two of you. Even if you can't see her, the bond between you two still exists in a different way.”

At that point, I instantly realized something. "Our dreams?"

"That's right." Jas confirmed. "Even if the person you dreamed about was an alternate version of her, it seemed like all the versions in all of your lives knew each other in one way or another. She, as Death, has always dreamed of you and sought you out."

I halted to reflect on what I had just discovered, or recalled.

"Zayne, listen... Astra made another great mistake. That is giving her the status of Death. It implies she now has your life in her hands.

"Does that mean this time, she saved me?"

Jas' nod reaffirmed my doubts, my fears. "You should have died and Astra could have her again... However, she utilized the power of Death to stop your time. Zayne, you are still alive."

I already knew that. The truth was, my life only begun when she arrived.

"I have to find Dawn."

"Wait." Jas spoke up. Almost immediately, vines from the garden seized my limbs. "You cannot go yet."

"Why?"

"She used all of her current power to prevent you from dying. If Astra finds you, she will no longer be able to defend you. She brought you here to keep you safe, Zayne."

Dawn wanted to confront Astra alone. I expected this when old memories resurfaced. I told Jas:

“Then it’s another reason to find her. I cannot bear to lose her again.”

I strained with the vines that were becoming increasingly tight around me, even using Evol to break free of them.

At that point, the garden started to tremble severely. The pure blue sky above broke into fragments and decreased. The jasmine petals detached from the stems, drifted in the air and eventually vanished.

"Jas?"

“I have… completed my mission…” His voice seemed to resonate from far away. His entire body perished before my eyes. “I exist… so that one day… you and she can… find what you've lost… Now… you both have made your own decisions… So I will… disappear… and return… the source of power that you both… gave me before… But remember… If you and she fail in… this timeline… there will be no more Jas, no more… jasmine garden…”

Jas in front of me appeared as surreal as a mist. I knew I had to find Dawn before Astra made a move on her. This was the last chance we had.

“Go, Zayne… I can only… help you get to… her…”

In the middle of the garden, an archway made of plants and jasmine opened. I hurled myself through it, not forgetting to gaze back at the smiling boy Jas, whose body transformed into thousands of jasmine petals before vanishing.

I heard Dawn whisper to me at that moment of life and death: 

“This time, I will protect you…” 

My hand reached out to where she was waiting. My chest ached as I screamed with everything I had:

“Dawn, take my hand!”

And I awoke. Rain splashed over my face. Cold. I was lying on the roadside next to a jasmine with each flower falling and gently dissolving in the water. 

I lifted myself up. In the black of night, I went after her traces. I knew she was so close to me. I knew she was calling my name. And the world would awaken at dawn, once again.

I will find you, in every lifetime.

[ps-cactus]

little roses in the garden

[oiishiipan]

@oiishiipan

[exoxota]

qria se tratada cm princesa acordo braba dps do boa noite cinderela kkk qual foi minha joia

[slipmams]

headers.

[hsslilly-blog]

starring… claire swanson

[juicwe]

★ headers twitter !

– like or reblog if your save <3

[girl-named-matty]

You give me butterflies 🦋🦋

[rollingthundeeeer]

RAFAYEL NIGHTLY RENDEZVOUS ❤️️

ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ/ᴜꜱᴇ

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ʀᴇɴᴅᴇᴢᴠᴏᴜꜱ ⤵ [ ꜱʏʟᴜꜱ ] [ xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ ] [ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ ]

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴

[sleepy-3dits]

Persona 3 MC Headers

requested by anon

[swfetynet]

Veigh

like or jacksneedy on twitter