#Beyond Prototyping

[chebyshevptera]

also sora calling jay’s fully developed glider a prototype would probably make him go insane i think

[amythestalithia]

The Bird Race and Other Challenges:

Perselena Athenide took on the form of a grown maiden, the age of a Spartan bride, on the winter solstice after her twenty-second birthday.

There was no discussion with her parents about this. She felt she was an adult goddess and so took on a form to embody that.

Himerus, god of lust, was the first one to challenge the protective aegis of her parents. He felt it his duty to teach virgins of love-making and so approached her. She turned him away and said, "I am loyalty, and I do not belong to one for a single night."

Her parents scared him away, back to the side of the servants of Aphrodite. They turned to Zeus and asked if he would not grant her the oath of an eternal maiden, and Perselena agreed that her mother's crown should also be hers. But Zeus, king and kin of all gods, did not dare. To grant her maidenhood would lead to many goddesses choosing it as well and thus no new brides in Olympus, and so he said, "If you wish to be a maiden for eternity, granddaughter, then you can swear yourself to Artemis. Else remain as you are, and live as other goddesses do."

Perselena refused the hunt, for she was the daughter of two Olympians herself, and to bow to Leto's daughter would be to sever herself from them.

And so Poseidon declared that if one wished to have Loyalty in their bed, they must marry her, and Athena, with motherly pride, declared there was no god worthy of her.

After she returned to the sea, there were many offers for her hand. Her father refused all the sea gods who came to him for her hand, without any fuss.

On Olympus, though, her mother was beset in offers and she was enraged by the audacity of gods who dared want her daughter, and so she challenged all of them to prove themselves worthy.

It was Pothos who came first. He was the god of pinning, and many pined for the beauty of Perselena Athenide. He was their collective strike, sent to scout on Athena's challenges for the suitors, for death would not touch his brother.

Athena challenged him to answer a question about love. "Who is my greatest love? " asked the sworn maiden.

And the erote replied," You have none, for you are sworn to virginity and untouched by the hand of my mistress."

" You are unsuitable as a husband for my daughter. She is my greatest love, as every child is their mother's, " said the mother of Loyalty to a servant of love, and had him swear to never pursue her daughter romantically, ever again.

Next came Zelus, daimon of rivalry, to the mother of his friend. He did not love Perselena, but if Olympus was challenged by Athena, he would answer. Wisdom, knowing that she should not challenge rivalry to a contest, gave him a task. "Find two brothers in the world, who are rivals of each other for the love of their parents, and make them both rivals and friends." Zelus searched and found in Enaleus's kingdom a pair of twins, rivals for inheritance from their father, who did not know which was older and had told them the greater wealth would go to the brother who made him prouder. Zelus stroked their rivalry but could not instill a love of each other, and so they quarrelled bitterly, came to blows, and one killed the other. Zelus, feeling responsible for this crime, took the form of a crow and helped the living murderer bury his brother and hide his crime. Athena came to him and said, "You are not worthy of my daughter, son of Styx. If you can not help with her students, what use will she have for you? Swear on your mother to never again pursue her." And so Emulation was bound by Wisdom.

Benthyskime, Queen of the land, came to the father whose son was missing and led him to the grave of his second son. His first son was tried by law and punished for his crimes.

Athena's next victim was Caerus, opportunity incarnate, once the destined downfall of their father. Caerus truly did care for Perselena, and to marry her at this point in his life would be a dream come true. As Apollo had once asked the hand of Hestia in marriage, so now did his half-brother. Athena's brother in full, for he too was born from the head of Zeus.

She asked him a question. "Do you love her enough to make her Queen?", for that was what she wanted for her daughter, a husband who would fight the elder gods for her. And Caerus swore to never pursue her, for all he wished for was a partner who did not ask him to overthrow his father.

Ialmenos, god of war preparations, came next. The Makhain had pursued every war goddess ever born, in marriage, which made him better than most gods but far too stupid to see the pattern. Eris had said no, Enyo had said no, Alke, Bia, Nike, Athena, all of them had said no to him.

Athena proposed a contest. "Forge a sword greater than mine, and she shall be yours." The sword he made was a sharpened lump of metal compared to the sword Athena made. Later, the metal was melted into two knives.

Hermes asked for her hand next. Because there was no decency amongst gods, not for a beautiful woman. Athena gave him a task. " In this fountain basin, there are many coins. Find the one made of gold by looking only. The one you touch is your selection." Hermes presented her with a coin that had been the shiniest, and she melted it to reveal silver beneath the golden glitter. And then she drew from the basin the real coin, coated in muck but still gold. And so Cleverness bent to the whims of Wisdom and swore his oath.

Apollo mocked his favourite brother for falling for Athena's tricks when he was the divine trickster. And so was goaded into asking for the hand of Perselena himself, to see if he could win against Athena.

She challenged him to a bird race. "A race of our sacred birds, my owl against your crow, but not on their wings. They will run on foot, between the fountain of the three sisters and the fountain of the muses, and however touches the stone basin first wins.". And so the owl was set against the crow, and though he raced quickly, the owl won. Knowledge did as Wisdom advised and swore his oath.

The tale spread far and wide, into mortal lands and the seas. Two men, a mortal and a god, had similar reactions.

Hyacinthus lost his royal composure at the news, and yelled at Apollo. "I know I am no more than a mortal prince, a son of your servant, but I love you. Why didn't you tell me we were no longer lovers before asking for Perse's hand in marriage? You had time to inform me that you would be pursuing her, as the challenge for her hand was announced three months ago. You visited the day before your contest even. Do I not deserve that courtesy? Did I displease you so much that you cannot share your plans for marrying my sister, though she is that only in my heart? Were we not friends before you took me to bed? Are not friends any longer?". The Archer was shamed by his words and cried out, "Hyacinthus, you are my only love. I had no intent of marrying Perselena nor answering Athena's challenge, but Hermes set me the task of proving I would succeed where he failed. I beg for your forgiveness, for I behaved monstrously, yet I do truly love you and to see you leave would be to tear my heart out and be eaten by wolves. I belong to you, my prince of ancient art, and never again shall I even jest that I belong to another.". Then, Clio's son forgave his lover, and did not know that he had birthed something in Leto's son with his words. For only a month later, Apollo would ask Hyacinthus for his hand in marriage.

Triton, Prince of the Seas, Pontomedon of the grandsons of Kronos, lost his royal composure as well. To see another sister of his pursued by a sun god was not something he could tolerate. The herald had no great faith in Athena's challenges, for sooner or later she would lose, and leave his sister to an Olympian god. The Prince came to the King and petitioned him for Perselena's hand. Poseidon dismissed him out of hand, for he knew his children and knew they could never make a marriage work between themselves. None of his sons had married his daughters, and he planned to keep it that way. He told Triton to be patient, for sooner or later the interest in his sister would cease and she would be able to live her life as she pleased.

The next person to try to marry Perselena was Nike, goddess of Victory, and Athena's closest friend. To her, the mother asked a question, " Between Perselena and me, who would you give victory to ?". And Nike answered, "To you, Athena Nike.". Athena was pleased but she said, " My daughter needs a partner who will choose her over all else. Swear your oath, glorious victory." And So Victory bowed to Wisdom.

Wise Athena then crafted an equal challenge for all, as to not have to spend so much time on individual challenges. A race of four, through a maze in her temple. All who ran it lost.

[aliennachos]

The main reason I adore the prototype fanbase is as follows

You cannot make up anything that seems "too far from the source material" to a prototype fan

This is prototype mother fucker, there is no level of "out there" that is too far for a prototype fan

You can say whatever the fuck you want and stick some dark scifi terminology in there and literally nobody will complain about it

You wanna write a prototype fic but don't wanna stick to the lore? Well in this fandom the lore is the instructions on the back of a popcorn bag that tells you not to use the popcorn button, nobody has ever followed those fucking instructions

That unstable anemic emo twunk cheated his way out of a nuke. Law, reason, and believability went out the window a long time ago in this wild West of a fandom

[catocappuccino]

Khan using his wrench to put Nori out of her misery

Then Uzi using the same wrench to put N "out of his misery" in a not killing but saving life way in the 1st episode do you do you understa

Do you understand what I mean.

[tankgamingidk]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon - 100 player theory

So this is a crack theory I’ve thought of for a little bit (wanted to try and word it better but flash is tomorrow so I wanted to get it in writing).

So, according to Hussie, the troll universe was made via a 48 squiddles session. Under loop theory, Rose’s species are going to be squiddles/horroterrors whose session make ms the troll universe. Plus, evidence points to 6 total players (GavageCunctation is tied to the purple flower in the panel with the big house, referred to as a GorgeousColor by Haven, and there are 6 flowers). So the session is likely gonna be 3 squiddles, 3 satyrs, and 4 humans.

Now obviously there can’t be 48 squiddles in the session, that’d be ridiculous. Even if only 3 are truly important, that’s still 45 more than the number of Satyrs. The only way that would make any sense is if there were also 48 Satyrs.

And wait, with 4 human players, that results in a grand total of 100 total players. The perfect number for a battle royal. Now, we know that there’s going to be some kind of war between the species. What if this war were to happen inside of sburb? If this were the case, it’d make sense for a large number of players to enter the session at once. It would also allow for the 48 squiddles specifically to create the universe, despite sharing the session with another species.

One last detail. If we also add the number of human players from the alpha/beta sessions to the number of players in the session, we get…

108. Homestuck’s new arc number.

That’s it that’s the theory. There’s gonna be 48 squiddles, 48 satyrs, and 4 omega kids, all participating in a big war inside of sburb.

[soysaucevictim]

Brain is just thinking about neurology again. More Autonomic Nervous System Stuff.

So like, it's split into sympathetic and parasympathetic. Real deep wiring, that is often not consciously engaged. For day-to-day things, both need to be acting in a balanced way, for overall health and functioning reasons.

(See also: Yerkes-Dodson Curve.)

SNS is the 3/4Fs - fight, flight, freeze, (and fawn - tho I think fawn requires more upstairs brain action to employ as easily/effectively than the other three, imo.) It can crank up your heart and breath rate. It shunts bloodflow away from the guts and immune system and can release stored sugars (glycogen) into the blood - all to fuel the muscles you may need to to Deal With Perceived Threat. It's the nervous system's gas pedal, basically.

It's funky thinking about Virgil being extremely connected to the SNS (especially fight/flight/freeze), just a sort of primal brain function and set of pathways. He's definitely the one Side that's closest to said gas pedal, practically partially fused to it. (Janus may be second-closest, as the other main self-pres function here. Think he's more about the fawn response.)

PNS is "rest and digest". When the coast is clear, it slows everything back down. Let you settle with your food, better absorb the nutrients and tucking what it can away. Lets your immune system to do whatever bodily repair and protection functions as it's supposed to. (Why chronic stress gives you GI troubles, CV probs, increase vulnerability to infectious disease & cancer, and slow down wound healing.) The nervous system's brake pedal.

(Mammalian Diving Reflex is a way to stimulate the brakes a bit, why splashing face with cold water can help!)

And I'm just thinking Remy probably reps this set of functions.

This is just me imagining Virgil/Andy just having a mutual beef with Remy/Sleep. And Logan/Logic is there and is So Tired.

[rainbow-beanie]

I will only think of prototype ‘moon’ as the grampa twice removed if only to help myself feel better

[ellenchain]

Oh my lord i just read part 2 of playground and the bit showing all of their alternate game skins!? Genius!!!!

It's a tribute to all the versions I couldn't include in the comic 😔

I had to cut out so many ideas so playground wouldn't be a year-long project haha… now it will only have 4 parts, but maybe I'll manage to draw some of their alter egos as a bonus!

[pascha-chan]

beyond two souls walked so Death stranding could deliver your orders!!!

[annon-guy2]

Guilty Gear - The Missing Link: Hypothetical Remake Guest Character Poll [2 of 4]

[moe-broey]

THE PROTOTYPE MOE............... 👁️👁️

[vimbry-moved]

in a constant fight between "yes it's sad to say you will romanticize, all the things you've known before, it was not not not so great" and "call me sentimental, but I want to go back, and commemorate the place with a historical plaque"

[frutavel]

i saw you tagged an oc named samaela on my post. who are they im curious. please share with the class 👀

(aka “i made that post about a character archetype i love and getting to hear about new characters that fit that archetype is literally the best case scenario for me”)

Oh hi for the love of god hello!!!

This is Samaela. My babygirl. I desperately wish I had more recent art of her to share, but alas I don't. A quick scroll through my blog also shows that Most of the posts I've made talking about her are also a few years old and outdated at this point but rest assured I think about her Constantly.

Samaela is a World of Warcraft OC, and also one of my oldest OCs in general regardless of fandom/universe. Long story short, she's a Forsaken hunter with little to no memory of her past life but Vivid memory of her death (by werewolf) and a history of making bad decisions in the name of Living Deliciously.

She was resurrected post Death By Werewolf, and the process caused her to Become Werewolf. Sorta. She's a weird little fiend and an abomination even by undead standards, which leads to her necromancer running All Sorts of Tests and Experiements. Now those aren't as bad or nefarious as they sound, really, but Samaela gets tired of being a science project pretty quick, so she moves as far away from her necromancer as she can, makes a few friends and enters a 2-ish year long situationship with her Boybestfriend, during which she indulges in many bad habits such as hunting living humans for sport and eating them, which garners her a reputation for being vicious and needlessly cruel. She regrets some of it sometimes, mostly she doesn't care, and gets off mostly scotch free because she's very good at weaving stories that paint her in a good light, and her folks don't like humans anyway. Which just emboldens her.

(Here seen with her Boybestfriend, Tari, my other babygirl, after a bad hunt)

Eventually her Boybestfriend has to leave, and she is Very Sad about it but they part amicably. Unfortunately having her voice of reason and only person whom she trusted in this whole wide world move away makes her Worse. She continues to be Very Good At Lying, but still ends up in trouble with the authorities a handful of times, some friends turn their back on her as a result and she makes self preservation her number one priority. This leads to a sleuth of Decisions which eventually end up putting the life of someone at risk, someone Very Important to her Boybestfriend, and once he finds out their relationship cracks even more. She jumps to anger and resentment straight on and continues to push people away and make more Choices, until her own life is put at risk and she's forced to rethink.

Currently she's at this rethinking stage. She doesn't regret most of the things she did, but she regrets the things that affected her personally. Empathy is a hard concept for her to grasp, but she's willing to make an effort for her own sake. At her core she still wants to survive above all else, and if that means letting people help her..... well, she doesn't like it but she'll think about it.

Samaela is Difficult, and she will never not be. She needs a strong support system to help her, but unfortunately the mere thought of letting her walls down and being vulnerable makes her sick. She is hard to get along with and harder to like.... but a handful of people have gone through the effort it takes to love her all the same. That's enough for now to keep her from spiraling more, but her fate is very uncertain. She has many amends to make and she's not exactly willing to make all of them, but her self preservation instinct is so strong it might as well push her in that direction even if just to keep herself alive.

Despite her many Ls she has many Ws. Women want her. Men fear her. She fucks hard and nasty. She makes dioramas in her spare time. She is surprisingly good at keeping people safe. She likes the color green so much she always has at least One green acessory on her at all times. She's not very good at swimming but still loves the beach. She has a gender that can be best described as Indescribable. Woman, but watch out. She can also pretty effectively communicate with her hunting dogs due to her mutations, and her insides are so rancid due to the Experiments that getting bitten by her in an immediate death sentence, and she is quite fond of biting. Because of this some have taken to calling her Plaguehound <3

As for her previous life.... well that's a whole other mess. All I'll say is that she has two living siblings, one who hasn't given up looking for her, but neither one would recognize her now, and it's unlikely she'd recognize them either. She barely remembers enough about her human life to know her name, much less about her family.

In fact, she has met her older sister in the past. It didn't end well for the sister in question. Dog fights are gnarly 💖

[dhyanshiva]

Haunting Your OWN Narrative

backward into first causes—stone in the pond of things, splash splash—or we throw ourselves into the future. we all move forward anyway. ripples in all directions.

what is a ghost?

— landscape with fruit rot and millipede, by richard silken

[reasonsforhope]

"The average pediatric wheelchair can cost thousands of dollars. And when children grow and their needs evolve — or a wheelchair gets damaged — those costs multiply.

So, the team at MakeGood NOLA, a New Orleans-based adaptive design lab, has made something that can transform the world for disabled children.

“Introducing the world’s first fully 3D-printed wheelchair,” MakeGood founder and president Noam Platt started a recent social media video.

He wheels a small, almost toy-like lime-green wheelchair into the frame, complete with a matching harness, suitable for children ages 2 to 8.

“Everything from the body, to the wheels, to the tires, the seat, and even the straps, all were 3D printed on a regular Bambu Labs A1 machine,” Platt continued.

This means the design is fully compatible with a regular 3D printer anyone can have in their home.

“We designed this to be modular and easy to make,” Platt continued. “Really, anyone with a 3D printer and some filament can download the files and print it.” [Note: You can also use 3D printers for free or a small cost at some public libraries and maker spaces, opening up accessibility even further.]

Once the prototype is completely finished, it will be available as a fair-use download that anyone can use for free.

Pictured: The new 3D-printed chair by MakeGood. Photo courtesy of MakeGood NOLA

Platt said that because it has a modular design, the wheelchair can be put together without any tools or glue. And if any part of it breaks or is damaged, users can simply re-print the single piece they need.

“As a wheelchair user I love everything about this,” TikTok user @thisisharlie commented on Platt’s video debuting the wheelchair.

“Mine costs more than my car, I can’t imagine having to buy a new one every year or two as they outgrow it,” @thisisharlie continued. “You’re going to change the world.”

For Platt, that’s always been the plan.

When he created MakeGood in 2021, the nonprofit design lab was thinking of the more than 1 billion people around the globe who live with disabilities.

“Since traditional design often overlooks diverse bodies and minds, it is crucial to reshape the built environment,” MakeGood shares on its website. “The challenges our communities face — both physical and social — are solvable.”

MakeGood works with individuals to co-create their adaptive design solutions, centering the “Need Knower,” the disabled person or their primary caregivers, throughout the entire process.

Since the founding of MakeGood, 1,600 individualized adaptive devices have been delivered to families for free. Platt’s team found a niche with this wheelchair, which they call the Toddler Mobility Trainer, or TMT. 

On its website, the organization says the wheelchairs were “designed with therapists from all over the world” and offer “unmatched mobility and independence to young kids.”

Children and parents agree.

“It’s an A+,” one parent said of an earlier prototype of the TMT in a report by CBS News. “It’s helped [my son] become more mobile and be able to adapt into the other things that he’s going to be offered. It’s helped his development.”

At the start of the design process, Platt reached out to area hospitals to see if he could fill a need.

“Part of it is empowering clinicians that we can go beyond what is commercially available,” Platt told CBS News. “We can really create almost anything.”

Now in the final stages of tweaking the TMT design to be ready for release, Platt is eager to get the wheelchair rolled out and into the homes of the children who need them most.

Pictured: A rendering of the 3D printed design, which will soon be available for download. Photo courtesy of MakeGood NOLA

“We think this sort of 3D printing and design is going to be huge for accessibility, and for wheelchairs specifically,” Platt said in his social media video. 

In the meantime, people can request a free chair from MakeGood.

“We have a growing list of people who’ve requested these, and once we finish the design, we’ll start filling those requests with custom-printed chairs, including things that you might need for your particular chair,” Platt said in a follow-up video.

Because the chairs are easily 3D printed, they can come in any color and can be modified to include other accommodations, like a section to hold a breathing device or other aid. With years of customization and design experience under his belt, this new innovation is simply an extension of Platt’s dedication to inclusive design.

In 2023, Platt told New Mobility: “I feel like every time I deliver one of these [assistive] devices, I get a hopeful feeling that the world has been changed a little bit for the better for the next generation.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, May 8, 2025

[mephisto-reporting]

The Engineer's Gravity - Yandere! Caleb

Plot: You're a biomechanical engineer in Caleb's fleet, incharge of repairs of prosthetic parts. What happens when you become the subject of the Colonel's obsession? Based on this request. Pairing: Non MC Mechanic! Reader x Yandere! Caleb Note: This story is with slightly darker themes. I do not want people to come at me saying Caleb isn't like this. Yes, I know. This is a Yandere! version of Caleb. Please keep that in mind. If you want to be a part of my taglist, please let me know in the comments, DMs or inbox. Content warning: Yandere male, implied deaths, mutilation, mentions of blood, possessiveness, gaslighting, voilence

CALEB'S POV

The faint hum of the Farspace fleet’s engines was a constant background noise, a rhythm that Caleb had grown accustomed to. It filled the silence as he walked down the dimly lit corridor toward the engineering bay, his gloved left hand flexing instinctively while his right hand remained eerily still. It wasn’t the arm itself that unnerved him anymore. No, he’d gotten used to the weight, the cool touch of the synthetic skin against his chest when he rested his hand there. What grated on him was the maintenance—the vulnerability of needing someone else to keep it functional.

The first time he’d come to the mechanic for maintenance, he had been indifferent, as he was to most things in his life. The arm was a tool, no more. Just another part of the machine that was Caleb, the Colonel. She was just another cog in the vast machine of the fleet, a means to an end. He barely remembered their first meeting beyond her clinical efficiency and soft voice, far removed from the barked commands of his officers or the detached drone of his superiors. She’d introduced herself simply, a name he didn’t bother committing to memory at the time, and had begun her work without wasting a second.

He’d sat in silence, his arm stretched out on the diagnostic table, his gaze fixed on the wall as she meticulously checked the connections and replaced worn components. She’d asked him questions—about the arm’s performance, any discomfort he’d noticed—but he’d only answered in monosyllables. He wasn’t trying to be rude; he just didn’t see the point.

She had been… different.

No. She spoke with compassion, with a voice that held an undercurrent of something human. When she’d first touched his arm to inspect it, there was no clinical detachment in her touch—no cold professionalism. Instead, there was a softness, a care.

But she kept showing up, week after week, her presence a constant thread in his routine. She didn’t just maintain his arm; she paid attention. She noticed when he was tense and adjusted her tone accordingly. When she worked, she hummed under her breath—a tune he couldn’t place but found oddly soothing. And unlike the professor who saw him as little more than a prototype for their next experiment, she treated him like a person.

Caleb first noticed it when she spoke to the other fleet members. The soldiers and officers with Toring chips embedded in their bodies, their minds augmented for efficiency but stripped of their individuality, were often treated as tools. Most of the crew barely acknowledged them, but she… she smiled at them. Asked about their day. Made sure they were comfortable during her examinations and modifications.

It wasn’t long before Caleb began to see her differently.

Their interactions changed subtly over time. He found himself lingering in the engineering bay longer than necessary, watching her work under the sharp white lights. She was focused, hands deft as they manipulated wires and micro-tools, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“You’re due for recalibration next week, Colonel.” she said during one session, not looking up from the neural interface she was fine-tuning.

“I’ll be here,” he replied. Then, after a pause, “You’re good at this.”

She glanced at him, surprised. “I’ve had a lot of practice.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not just the work. The way you… treat people. You’re good at that, too.”

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he thought she might dismiss the comment. But instead, she smiled—a soft, genuine thing that made something unfamiliar stir in his chest. “Everyone deserves to be treated like they matter.” she said simply, turning back to his arm.

He didn’t respond, but those words stayed with him long after he left the bay. Caleb watched her closely, taking note of every smile, every laugh, every time she showed kindness to someone else. It made something dark curl in his chest.

The first time Caleb intervened on her behalf, it was almost instinctual.

He was passing through the mess hall when he heard the sharp edge of Lieutenant Varro’s voice. “You know, for all your compassion, you take forever with repairs. Maybe stop coddling the freaks and do your job faster.”

Caleb froze, his blood turning cold. He rounded the corner to see Varro towering over her, his expression smug. She was holding a tray of food, her shoulders tense but her expression calm as she replied, “I do my job thoroughly, Lieutenant. If you’re unhappy with my work, you can file a complaint.”

Caleb’s steps faltered, his jaw tightening. A cold, simmering rage filled him as he turned to look at the man. He wanted to snap his neck right then and there, but he couldn’t let her see this side of him. Not yet.

So he smiled instead. A cold, calculating smile that sent a chill down Varro’s spine.

“Lieutenant,” Caleb said, his tone deceptively calm. “A word.”

Later that night, Varro didn’t return to his quarters. Whispers spread through the fleet about an "incident" during a routine maintenance check. Caleb made sure it looked like an accident—a malfunction in Varro's own bionic enhancements. No one questioned it, least of all her.

She remained blissfully unaware of the lengths Caleb went to for her.

As the days turned into weeks, Caleb’s obsession deepened. He found himself lingering in her workshop longer than necessary, watching her every move. She would smile at him, her eyes warm and kind, and Caleb would feel something he hadn’t felt since he left home for the DAA. A strange, aching need to keep her close.

“You know,” she said one day, her voice light, “you don’t always have to come here for repairs. You can just... visit, if you want.”

Caleb froze, his gaze locking onto hers. Did she know? Had she figured out how much he craved her presence? But her smile was so genuine, so innocent, that he realized she didn’t suspect a thing.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady.

He told her about his family one evening, when the workshop was quiet and the rest of the fleet was asleep. He spoke of the girl he had grown up with, her fiery spirit, and the way she had  carved a place for herself in Linkon.

“She is strong…” Caleb said, his voice low. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”

She listened intently, her expression soft. “You must miss her.” she said gently.

Caleb hesitated. Did he? The memory of that girl felt distant, overshadowed by the woman sitting in front of him.

“I don’t think about her much anymore.” he admitted. “There are... other things on my mind.”

He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t press.

But Caleb couldn’t stop thinking about her. He thought about the way her hands moved over his arm, the way her laughter echoed in the workshop, the way she seemed to light up the cold, sterile corridors of the fleet.

And when he saw other officers talking to her, laughing with her, something in him snapped. He didn’t like the way they looked at her. He didn’t like the idea of anyone else getting close to her.

Caleb began to manipulate things behind the scenes, ensuring that no one spent too much time with her. He assigned officers to tasks that kept them far away from her workshop. He spread subtle rumors, casting doubt on the intentions of anyone who showed too much interest in her.

She never noticed. She never questioned why the workshop seemed quieter, why fewer people came to her for help.

And Caleb made sure it stayed that way. In the privacy of his quarters, Caleb would sit in the dim light, his bionic hand flexing involuntarily as he thought about her. She was his. She didn’t know it yet, but she belonged to him.

And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. To keep her close.

Even if it meant destroying anyone who stood in his way.

YOUR POV

Lately, you’d noticed something strange.

The crew didn’t treat you the way they used to. At first, it was subtle—an officer averting his gaze when you greeted him in the corridor, a technician hurriedly ending a conversation when you approached. Then it became more blatant. People gave you a wide berth in the cafeteria, whispers died the moment you entered a room, and the occasional sidelong glances you caught were laced with something unspoken.

Fear.

It didn’t make sense. You’d always prided yourself on being approachable, on treating everyone with the respect they deserved. Sure, your work was demanding, and your position as the fleet’s biomechanical engineer meant you often had to be firm when it came to protocols, but you weren’t cruel. Far from it. You treated the crew like people, not machines.

But now? It was as though you carried some invisible aura that screamed danger.

And then there were the... incidents.

The first time, you brushed it off as coincidence. Lieutenant Gregor had been reassigned to another fleet without warning, just days after he’d mocked you during a team briefing. You’d chalked it up to bad luck or his own poor behavior catching up to him.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Officers and fleet members who dismissed your concerns, who snapped at you during high-stress missions, who made snide comments about your methods—they all disappeared. Some were reassigned to far-off posts, others were suddenly discharged for disciplinary reasons, and a few even suffered freak accidents that left them unfit for duty.

The pattern was impossible to ignore.

The only constant in all of this was the Colonel.

Or just Caleb, as he’d asked you to call him when it was just the two of you.

“Colonel” felt too formal, too distant, he’d said one evening as you adjusted the fine motor controls on his bionic hand. He’d leaned back in the chair, watching you with an intensity that made you feel both self-conscious and oddly comforted.

“Just Caleb,” he’d said, his voice softer than usual. “When we’re alone.”

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Over the past few months, he’d become a steady presence in your life, someone you found yourself looking forward to seeing.

And lately, he seemed to be around you more than ever.

It wasn’t just during maintenance sessions anymore. He’d stop by your workshop for no apparent reason, lingering by your workbench as you tinkered with your tools. He’d accompany you on supply runs, his tall frame a protective shadow at your side. When the fleet docked at Skyhaven for shore leave, he invited you to join him for coffee or walks through the market district. He’d cook for you and bring you meals to your residence in Skyhaven, unprompted.

It felt... nice.

You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed his company. Caleb had a dry sense of humor that never failed to catch you off guard, and there was a steadiness to him that you found grounding. Still, there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The way he always seemed to know when someone had upset you. The way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, as if he were memorizing every detail. The way his voice dropped when he said your name, like it was a secret only he was allowed to keep.

You tried to push the thoughts aside. Caleb was your superior, your colonel. He’d never given you any reason to distrust him. And yet...

One evening, as you recalibrated the sensory feedback in his arm, you decided to bring it up.

“Have you noticed how people have been acting lately?” you asked, keeping your tone light as you adjusted a tiny screw. “It’s like they think I’m some kind of... I don’t know, threat or something.”

You glanced up at Caleb, expecting him to shrug it off with one of his usual dry remarks. Instead, his body tensed, just for a moment. If you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you might have missed it.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“It’s just a feeling.” you said, turning back to his arm. “People avoiding me, whispering when they think I can’t hear. And then there are the reassignment orders. It’s like anyone who crosses me is... gone.”

There was a long pause.

“It’s nothing.” Caleb said finally. “Tensions have been high since the last Deepspace tunnel exploration. People are on edge.”

You frowned but didn’t press the issue. Maybe he was right. The fleet had been through a lot recently, and stress had a way of making people act strangely. Still, something about his explanation didn’t sit right with you.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “That makes sense.”

But it didn’t. Not entirely.

Still, you knew better than to poke your nose where it didn’t belong. You’d learned long ago that asking too many questions could lead to trouble, and trouble was the last thing you needed.

So you stayed in your lane, focusing on your work and pretending not to notice the way Caleb’s presence seemed to permeate every aspect of your life. You told yourself it was fine, that his increased attention was nothing to worry about. After all, you trusted Caleb. He’d always been kind to you, always treated you with respect. And if his gaze lingered a little too long, if his touch was a little too gentle when he handed you a tool, if his smile held a hint of something darker—you ignored it.

Because Caleb was the only person who hadn’t changed. The only person who still treated you like... you.

The ship was silent at night, the hum of its engines a low, constant thrum beneath your feet as you walked through the dimly lit corridors. You’d been restless, the bitter taste of Lieutenant Reese’s words still fresh in your mind. The new Lieutenant had been transferred to Caleb’s fleet three weeks ago and was already causing tensions within the hierarchy of how things ran in the fleet.

“Guess even engineers need quotas filled, huh? They really let anyone take up space on this ship these days,” he had sneered during a systems check earlier. “Bet you’ve only kept this position because someone up high likes the way you look.”

His smirk had twisted into something crueler as he leaned closer. “Face it. You’re not here because you’re good—you’re here because you’re convenient.”

The humiliation burned as much now as it had then. You clenched your fists at the memory, your footsteps echoing softly against the metal floor. You’d worked too hard, poured too much of yourself into your work, to have it dismissed so callously. And yet, his words lingered like a stain, refusing to be scrubbed away.

You were so lost in thought that you almost didn’t hear the sound.

A muffled grunt. A crash.

And then—a sickening crunch.

You froze. Every instinct screamed at you to turn back, to return to your quarters and pretend you hadn’t heard anything. But your curiosity—or perhaps some misplaced sense of duty—compelled you forward. Quietly, you padded down the corridor, following the noise until you reached a maintenance bay.

What you saw made your breath catch in your throat.

Caleb stood over Lieutenant Reese, who was slumped against the wall, blood smeared across his face. The lieutenant’s arm hung at an unnatural angle, his body trembling as he let out a pained whimper. Caleb’s hand was clamped tightly around Reese’s throat, his grip firm but not enough to choke.

Not yet.

“You thought you could get away with it?” Caleb said, his voice low and steady, each word laced with venom. “Insulting her. Undermining her. Disrespecting her.”

Reese tried to stammer out a response, but Caleb’s hand tightened, silencing him.

“You signed your life away the moment you opened your mouth.” Caleb continued, his tone almost conversational, as if he were discussing something as mundane as a supply requisition. “She’s worth more than you’ll ever be. Do you even understand that?”

Reese’s legs kicked weakly, his breaths ragged. Caleb tilted his head, his expression shifting from cold fury to mild disappointment.

“Pathetic!” he muttered, releasing the lieutenant’s throat. Reese crumpled to the ground, wheezing and coughing. Caleb watched him for a moment, then raised his foot and brought it down sharply on Reese’s hand. The sound of bones breaking echoed in the bay.

The lieutenant went limp, his body a lifeless heap. Caleb crouched beside him, his expression one of disdain. “Weak,” he said, his voice barely audible.

And then he turned his head, his gaze locking onto you.

The moment seemed to stretch, the air thick with tension. Caleb’s expression shifted from cold to shocked in the blink of an eye, but his eyes—the ones that had always been so warm towards you—now seemed empty, calculating.

He stood still for a moment, then took a step toward you, his movements slow, deliberate. His voice was a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a blade.

“Don’t be scared,” Caleb said softly, though there was an edge to his words. “I’m just protecting you. I would never let anyone hurt you, never.”

Your mind raced, your pulse quickening. You’d seen this side of Caleb before—quiet, intense, protective—but this? This was something else. He was different.

“Protected me?” you repeated, your heart pounding. “From what?”

“From him,” Caleb replied, gesturing to Reese’s motionless form. “He disrespected you. He questioned your worth. He hurt you.”

His gaze softened, and he took another step closer. “I won’t allow that. Not from him. Not from anyone.”

“This—this isn’t right,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” Caleb interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “And I will. You may not see it now, but this is what’s necessary.”

You stared at him, searching for any hint of remorse, but there was none. Only conviction.

“I’ll always protect you.” he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Even when you think you don’t need it. Even when you don’t understand why.”

You took a step back, your mind racing. But even as you tried to process what you’d seen and heard, a cold realization settled over you.

He closed the distance between you, his steps soft but purposeful, until he was standing right in front of you. His face was close, too close, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been through so much,” he continued, his voice soothing, almost affectionate. “You don’t need to worry about the people who don’t understand you. I’ll always protect you.” He repeats. “Even when you don’t ask for it.”

You swallowed; your throat dry. You should have been afraid, terrified even. But you weren’t. A part of you was frozen, caught in the web of his words, of his gaze. He was so sure of himself, so confident, and it was hard not to believe him when he looked at you like that.

His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re mine,” Caleb whispered, his words not a command but a promise. “No one will ever take you from me. Not ever.”

You should have questioned it, should have asked him what he meant, why he was doing this. But you didn’t. Because in that moment, you realized you couldn’t escape.

Not really.

You knew who Caleb was. You knew what he was capable of. And you knew that the resources of the Farspace Fleet, the professor, and Caleb’s power meant there was no running, no hiding from him. You’d seen what happened to those who crossed you. And now, you didn’t doubt for a second that Caleb was behind it.

But what unnerved you most was the way he looked at you now. Not with malice, not with cruelty, but with something softer. Something almost tender.

“Stay.” he said, his voice coaxing. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

You swallowed hard, your mind screaming at you to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there. And yet... you nodded.

Because deep down, you knew he was right about one thing.

Caleb would never hurt you.

As long as you stayed.

He would never let anyone touch you. He would never let anyone harm you.

You were his, and he was yours.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you stood there, the weight of his gaze heavy on you.

And as Caleb stepped back, his eyes softening, a reassuring smile tugging at his lips, you knew one thing for certain: you were far past the point of no return.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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