Colonel Caleb: illusio
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Liquid Gold
In Vee’s discord, there’s bingo. There was a piss kink one. And I did it for my dearest bestie to help us all get bingo. Also there’s like a lowkey Omegaverse thing going on but I didn’t want to go into the setup because this is PWNP!!!! NOT A SINGLE BIT OF PLOT IS IN SIGHT!!!
CONTENT NOTES: PISS KINK!!!! Bondage, MFM, (Sylus, MC/Reader, Caleb), Voyeurism, Caleb is in the Cuck Cage and Tied Up for a bit. He also drinks piss. A lil bit :D
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Caleb sat tall on his knees. Eyes straight ahead. Back straight. Hands cuffed in his lap. The thick purple collar around his neck strained as he sat at the edge of his chain within his cage, watching, almost unblinking as you took Sylus’ big cock fully with each brutal thrust of the other man’s hips. Caleb’s own cock pulsed, need seeping from the tip but he knew better than to move his hands.
If he moved, you wouldn’t touch him. If he dared touch his throbbing cock, you wouldn’t give him the one thing he asked for. You were the only thing he wanted, the one he ached for, and he wanted everything from you. Your touch, your love, your pleasure, and the one thing you hadn’t given him yet. But, if he was a good boy, if he let you have this, the rough fucking from Sylus, his perfect obedience, you’d finally, finally, finally, give him what he wanted.
You’d mark him as yours. Let him do the same. And he’d finally belong to you.
Sylus held your hips, thrusting in deep, pushing loud moans out of your mouth. His fist was in your hair, holding your head in the exact angle you needed to meet Caleb’s eyes. You held his gaze, barely blinking as Sylus rutted inside you, his big body over yours, massive cock pressing against your cervix every time he bottomed out.
Caleb whimpered, his muscles locked tight. The wet clap of skin against skin, the way your breasts swayed with each heavy thrust. How your face scrunched up in pleasure. All of it built more pressure in his abdomen. His muscles flexed with his restraint, cock bobbing as more and more need dripped from his tip.
Sylus growled behind you, pulling you all the way down his shaft and holding you there as he spanked your clit. “Look how wet you are, kitten. Soaked, all for me while the poor puppy in the cage can only watch you as you come apart for me. Again and again. Do you think he can wait for you to come one more time for me?”
You moaned something, lost in the cry that left your lips when Sylus slapped your clit a second time. Your body convulsed, legs trembling, and for a moment, Caleb lost sight of your eyes as they rolled back into your head. You gushed around Sylus’ cock, and Caleb’s throat went dry. He should’ve been under you to drink it up. To clean the mess, to be the one covered in your scent, not the sheets that would get washed without anyone to appreciate the depth of your scent.
Sylus came with a low snarl, filling you up with hot ropes of come that dripped down your thighs as it overflowed out of you. He pulled you into a kiss, claiming your mouth as his just like he claimed your cunt. Slap after slap landed on your clit, and you continued to gush with each slap.
When he finally pulled out of you and released your mouth, you were a panting, trembling mess. Pretty tears dripped down your face, cum – yours and his – coated your thighs, and your eyes had glazed over some from the pleasure. Caleb forced himself to stay very still, though his cock pulsed with every heavy beat of his heart.
You’d made him wait for so long. Forever, it seemed like. Yet, you turned your attention toward him, smiled, and pushed to your knees. You stood on trembling legs, more come dripping down your thighs, and you opened the cage. Still, he remained in place. Waiting for the command, waiting for the word that would free him from the endless waiting.
Yet, instead of freeing him, you lifted your leg over his shoulder, showing him the slick mess between your thighs. He panted like the fucking dog he was, desperate, but still. Forcing himself to remain in control. Your fingers carded through his soft brown hair, and you dragged him to your cunt, and you let go. The moment the first hot drop of your piss hit his cheek, Caleb came, his cock spurting rope after rope of come as you marked him as yours. He opened his mouth, savoring the taste of you, the heat, and the rush of fluid that suddenly soaked his face, neck, and chest.
“Clean up the mess, puppy,” you commanded.
He dove right in, licking your messy cunt clean of come and piss, drinking in everything that you gave him as the rest dripped down his body, soaking him in your scent, in you. His cock, still throbbed, despite the fact that he’d just come, aching for you from just a taste.
Once he’d drank all you could offer him, his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked. Hungry, always hungry for you. He needed you and everything you could offer him, everything you would give him. He was yours. Always yours. In every way you needed. Forever.
You pulled him back right before he could make you come, and he looked up at you, big violet eyes wide, and he panted, silently begging to taste your come straight from the source, but you simply shook your head.
“It’s your turn,” you said. You freed him from the chains. “Mark me, Caleb.”
The phrase given, he pulled you into his arms, down into his lap, and he fucked into you, hard, fast, half-feral with his need. His teeth found your shoulder, his hand in your hair. He fucked you hard, and right as your walls began to pulse around him he froze, pulling you all the way down on his cock. He pissed deep inside you, marking you as his in the same way you had him. You were his. Always his. Now and forever. You may have had other lovers, but no others would get this. This was his. All his. The combined mix of his piss and your come gushed out around his cock, hot and heady, as he fucked it back inside you, making sure you were fully marked in every way that mattered. His. His. His.
Caleb moaned as he came a few moments later, the heat and intensity too much for him. His head burrowed into your neck, and he whined as he came down, fully spent.
He may have been nothing but a pitiful lil puppy of a man, but he was yours. And that was all he’d ever wanted to be.
–
A/N: Idk man. I had the brain worms. This isn’t one of my big kinks but its fun sometimes.
Caleb Taglist:
@fairestofnrc @anxiety-thyme @raendarkfaerie @teriyaki-calm @babebleu
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big sorry to all of my lads followers who have not gotten lads content from me in a hot minute 😭 i’m waiting for raf’s new myth and all my time is spent grinding for gems on all my games 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
i WILL post LADS again…. eventually…. trust….
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The Color of Home, Pt. 9
MDNI pt. 1…pt.8 or read on AO3
“I should be done before lunch, so I’ll meet you at yours later, okay?” You plop a soap pod into the dishwasher and start it up.
“Sounds good,” Rafayel mumbles into his half-finished coffee. Sunlight streams through the window, catching the messy strands of his hair as he slouches at the table with his head resting on his arms.
Smiling softly to yourself, you shake your head at his sleepy antics and press a quick kiss to the crown of his head. “Well, I’m off.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and drain the last of your coffee. “Wish me luck.”
“Are you nervous?” He yawns, “It should just be a routine check-up, right?”
“Yeah. I haven’t had a flare-up of my protocore syndrome since I moved here, so I’m not too worried. I’m mostly just establishing care with a primary doctor in case something happens later.” You glance at your watch by the door, relieved you’re leaving early. “The doctor I’m seeing is supposed to be the leading expert in protocore syndrome, so I’ll be in good hands.”
“Good.” He settles his head back onto his arms and flashes you a sleepy smile. “I’ll lock up when I head home. I love you.”
“I love you too. See you later!” You wave and head out the door, feeling optimistic.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
[[MORE]]Akso Hospital isn’t much different from any other hospital you’ve been to. The room is just as bland, the exam table just as uncomfortable, and the wait times just as long.
You scroll through an idle game on your phone to pass the time, but it doesn’t quite distract you from the boredom or the faint flutter of nerves in your stomach. Just as you give up and slip your phone into your pocket, there’s a soft knock at the door.
A young nurse steps in to take your vitals. As the pressure releases from the cuff around your arm, she jots a few notes onto her clipboard. “Doctor Li will be in shortly to see you.”
She gives a quick nod before hurrying out to her next patient. The name rings a faint bell, but you brush it aside. It’s common enough.
Before you can decide whether to reopen the game or not, there’s another knock.
The doctor enters, his eyes fixed on the chart in his hand. He asks you to confirm your name before finally raising his gaze.
The chart slips from his fingers and clatters loudly onto the floor.
He breathes your first name.
Goosebumps rise along your arms and an icy chill crawls down your spine. The doctor looks extremely familiar, but you’re certain you’ve never met him before. “Um…” You rub your arms. “Is everything okay, Doctor Li?”
“What? Oh.” He blinks several times and pushes his glasses back up his nose. He bends down to retrieve the chart and scans it again. “Please excuse me. It’s been quite the morning.” He clears his throat, “Your vitals look good. I’d like to listen to your heart, if that’s alright. Then I have a few questions.”
He slips the stethoscope from around his neck and leans in close to listen to your heartbeat.
Closer than you remember any doctor standing.
And staring far more intensely.
The burning familiarity prickles at the back of your mind until it nearly gives you a headache.
“Your heart sounds fine,” He murmurs, almost bewildered, “Completely fine.”
He begins asking questions about your previous treatments and medications. Just when you think the appointment is wrapping up, he hesitates. “Forgive me, but–” He taps his pen lightly against his knee before exhaling sharply through his nose. “You don’t happen to have a brother named Caleb Xia, do you?”
Your chest tightens at the name. Suddenly everything clicks.
“Oh!” You brighten. “That’s why you look familiar! You must have been one of his friends, right?”
Something like pain flashes across his face before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.
“Yes,” He says evenly, “You could say that. We were friends when we were children. All of us were.” He straightens slightly, “I’m Zayne Li.”
Guilt washes over you. You search your broken memory for anything that might connect to the man sitting in front of you, but come up empty. For some reason, that makes the ache in your chest worse.
“Oh… I’m sorry, Zayne. I probably would remember you, but I had an accident a long time ago and lost most of my memories from before that. That must have been when we knew each other.”
“I know about the accident,” He says.
He sets the chart aside and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I was there.”
“What?” You gasp.
“Yes,” His voice drops, “It was my fault.”
He opens his mouth to continue, but the room suddenly grows colder. Your breath fogs faintly in the air. “I’m sorry,” He stands abruptly, “I have to go.”
Zayne strides out of the room, the cold air leaving with him.
“Wait!” You hop off the table and rush after him, “Zayne!” You catch a glimpse of the hem of his white coat disappearing around the corner and follow quickly, trying not to draw attention as you weave through the cardiology floor. Fortunately, he leaves a trail easy enough to follow. Frost creeps along the floor and up the walls. It leads you straight to a large office door with the blinds drawn.
Dr. Zayne Li Chief Cardiac Surgeon
The gold lettering gleams under the harsh fluorescent lights. You raise your fist to knock, but voices drift through the door. No, not voices. Just one voice.
Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, you press your ear lightly against the door. “…dead… lose control…” Enough of this. You push the door open.
Zayne stands behind his desk, palms braced against its edge. His lab coat lies crumpled on the floor near your feet. Tiny flakes of snow drift lazily through the air.
His breathing is ragged.
“Zayne?” You ask softly, approaching like you might a wounded animal. “Are you okay?”
“Please,” He says hoarsely, eyes squeezed shut, “Go home.”
The closer you get, the more you see. The sleeves of his gray button-up shirt are shredded. Dark ice crystals protrude from his skin, jagged and sharp. Blood stains the fabric in thin rivulets, dripping slowly onto the floor. A scream rises in your throat, but something inside you insists you stay calm. Inexplicably, that something assures you that you know what to do.
You step forward slowly and cup his freezing face in your hands. “Look at me, Zayne,” You whisper.
His hazel-green eyes open, full of pain. “Breathe with me,” You inhale slowly. Exhale. He matches you at first shakily, then more steadily. By the fifth breath, the crystals begin to recede. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your touch, the motion stirring something deep and aching inside your chest. Then, just as suddenly, he pulls away.
Distance returns between you.
“I apologize,” He says quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am not usually this… shaken. Today has been an unexpected turn of events.”
“Please,” You beg, “Just tell me what’s going on.”
“The last time I saw you,” Zayne says quietly, “You were twelve years old and bleeding to death in my arms.”
The words knock the breath out of you.
“What?” You whisper, incredulous.
He gestures stiffly toward the couch. “Please, sit.” You obey automatically, your legs suddenly unsteady. Zayne moves around his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze. He lowers himself into the armchair across from the couch, careful to leave space between you.
His movements are precise and robotic. He peels the shredded sleeve of his shirt away from his arm, revealing the torn skin beneath. The sharp smell of antiseptic fills the room as he pours some onto cotton and presses it against the wounds.
He barely flinches.
“It was a normal summer day,” He begins, staring somewhere past your shoulder.
Your hands twist together in your lap.
“You and Caleb had spent the weekend at Whitesand Bay,” He continues. “You came running to find me the moment you got home. You were excited; breathless.” A faint, humorless smile touches his mouth. “You said you had the most incredible story to tell.”
Whitesand Bay. That’s where Rafayel lives. The beach where he was once stranded…
“I remember every word you said,” Zayne murmurs, “Every single one.” He wraps gauze around his arm with steady hands. “I was fourteen. Already in college, technically.” His mouth tightens, “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t still a pubescent idiot.”
You shift slightly on the couch. “Zayne…”
“You told me you met someone,” He continues, his voice almost too calm, “A boy on the beach. You said you loved him.”
Your brows knit together, “Loved him?”
“Yes,” He laughs softly, though there’s no joy in it. “You had known him for a few hours. Maybe less. And yet you said it so easily. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.” He tightens the gauze around his arm. “I didn’t understand it.”
“Zayne…” You pick at the pilling cushions beneath you, desperately wanting to wrap him up in a hug.
“I had been right there beside you for two years,” He says quietly. “Every day. Every moment.” The confession hangs heavy between you.
Your chest tightens.
“I didn’t know how to process it,” He continues, “I thought I was losing you.”
“I can’t imagine you would have,” You say gently.
“But I believed I was,” His eyes finally meet yours, “And I panicked.”
You feel your pulse quicken, heart beating against your ribs.
“My intention was to leave,” He says, “I thought if I walked away, I could cool down and pretend I wasn’t hurt.” He exhales slowly, “But you stopped me.”
You lean forward slightly. “I did?”
He nods stiffly, “You grabbed my arm and demanded to know what was wrong.”
That sounds like something you would do.
“I should have told you the truth,” He says. “I should have said I was jealous. That I was hurt. That I was being selfish,” His jaw tightens, “But instead…” He glances down at his bandaged arms, “My Evol reacted.”
Your stomach drops.
“When I tried to push you away, I lost control.”
You remember the ice crystals, the frost, the cold.
“You’ve seen what happens when I lose control,” He says quietly, lifting his wrapped arms slightly.
Your voice comes out barely above a whisper, “You… hurt me.”
“Yes.”
The word sounds like it costs him his very soul to utter out loud.
“I never meant to,” He continues, “But intent doesn’t matter when the result is the same.” His gaze drops to the floor, “I caught you before your head hit the floor.”
A chill runs down your spine.
“There was so much blood.”
You swallow hard, trying to remember anything at all.
His hands tremble slightly now, “I tried to stop the bleeding. I called emergency services. I was screaming into the phone like a madman.”
Your chest feels tight.
“But I knew,” He whispers, voice slightly breaking.
“Knew what?” You ask quietly.
“That you weren’t going to make it.”
The room feels colder.
“I remember the way you looked at me,” He says. “Like I had betrayed you.”
You shake your head slowly. “I wouldn’t—”
“You did,” He says softly, “And you had every right to.”
Silence settles between you.
“The light left your eyes,” He continues.
Your throat tightens. None of this makes any sense.
“I remember the moment your body went cold in my arms.”
Your hands press against your knees. You want to interrupt; to argue with him that this can’t possibly be true because you’re sitting right here in his office. But the grief in his voice keeps you still. You know very well what real grief sounds like. And somehow, you know he isn’t faking it.
“Caleb came home before the ambulance arrived,” Zayne says.
Your head lifts.
“The living room was covered in snow by then,” He continues distantly, “He saw me holding you on the floor. Saw the blood.” His jaw flexes, “He pulled me away from you.”
You can almost picture it.
“The last thing I remember,” Zayne says, “Is his fist connecting with my jaw.”
You blink in surprise.
“When I woke up, I was in the hospital,” He finishes. “My parents told me you had passed away.” He lets out a slow breath, “And they would never lie to me. Not about that. They’re superstitious pediatricians for God’s sake.”
The room goes quiet. Zayne suddenly stands and begins pacing. “Everything I have done since that day,” He says sharply, “Has been because of you.”
You look up at him, stunned. “What? Why?”
“Your protocore syndrome made you miserable,” He continues. “So I dedicated my life to finding a cure.” His voice grows harsher with every step, “I control my emotions. I avoid attachments. I buried myself in my research.” He stops and looks at you, “All of it was for you.”
Your eyes burn with tears. “I’m sorry,” You’re unsure if he heard you.
“And now,” He says hoarsely, “You’re sitting in my office. Alive and well.”
He laughs once, disbelieving, “Do you understand what that means?”
You shake your head weakly, at a complete loss for words.
“I spent the last decade believing I killed the person I loved most in the world.”
Your breath catches.
“And apparently,” He says bitterly, “I was wrong.” He stops pacing and faces you fully, “How are you alive?”
The raw confusion in his eyes makes your heart ache. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, tears spilling down your face, “I don’t know.” You shake your head helplessly, “I don’t remember any of that. I didn’t even know I’d been to Whitesand Bay before.”
Zayne stares at you for a long moment. Then he says firmly, “Call Caleb.”
Your stomach drops.
“Tell him to come here,” Zayne continues. “Right now. I need him to explain what happened.”
Your heart sinks. “I’m so sorry, Zayne,” You say quietly, “That’s just not possible.”
His brow furrows. “Then I’ll go to him. I need him to explain. I need answers.”
You shake your head, “Zayne…” You swallow hard, “Caleb’s the one who’s dead now.” The words feel heavy in the air, “Grandma too.” Silence stretches for eternity.
Finally, Zayne exhales slowly. “Oh,” He runs a hand through his hair, “Well,” His voice turns oddly flat, “That’s just like Caleb, isn’t it?”
“I don’t understand any of this any more than you do,” You admit quietly, “I thought I was coming here to manage my protocore syndrome and move on with my day. This is–” You shake your head, “Well, saying it’s a shock would be putting it lightly.”
Zayne lets out a dry scoff of agreement. “Look,” He says, sinking back into the armchair. He drags a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled than before, “For what it’s worth, I’m incredibly glad you’re not dead. Truly. I would never wish that for you.” He pauses, “I just–” He removes his glasses and rubs at his eyes, fatigue etched across his face, “I just wish I’d been informed of that development sooner.”
You nod solemnly. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position so suddenly.” The words feel painfully inadequate. “I’ll find a new doctor tomorrow and we can just put this behind us. I don’t want to make this any harder on you.” You start to stand, but the way he says your name stops you; it’s gentle, almost like a plea. You slowly settle back onto the couch.
“I don’t want you to find a new doctor,” Zayne says. He gestures vaguely around the office, “All of this…” His voice lowers, “It was built in your honor. Besides, I’m the best when it comes to this disease,” He continues, the quiet certainty returning to his tone, “I know that sounds arrogant, but it happens to be true. I wouldn’t trust your care to anyone less.” Finally, his gaze drops from the ceiling to meet yours, “I simply need time to adjust to… this development.”
A faint breath leaves him, “By the time your next appointment comes around next month, I will be fine.”
You study his face carefully, searching for any sign he’s forcing himself. There’s nothing there except exhaustion and sincerity.
“Okay,” You say gently, “Then I guess I’ll see you next month.” You walk over to his desk and spot a notepad lying near the edge. Flipping to a blank page, you scribble down your phone number. “If you ever want to talk somewhere more private about all of this,” You say, sliding the page toward him, “Give me a call.”
You hesitate, “I probably have about a billion questions for you,” You admit with a weak smile, “But asking them right now feels like it might break both of our brains.”
Zayne nods faintly, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling.
“Goodbye, Zayne,” You say softly, not wanting to disturb him any further.
“Goodbye,” He whispers.
The walk back to your car passes in a haze, your mind far too full for anything else.
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Caleb x Non MC
TW: minor character death, trust issues, abandonment issues, body dysphoria, suicidal thoughts, depression, self-doubt, self-hatred, past child abuse, past abuse, past domestic abuse, past trauma, past violence, angst, light fluff
Summary:
The love of his life died in a tragic accident…
She has been through hell at the hands of someone she thought loved her…
It takes them coming together at the most inopportune time to heal the wounds others left behind.
Warnings:
This is a self-indulgent fic… things that happened to non mc in her past have happened to me, some have not. Some of the issues non mc has, I have, some I do not.
PLEASE pay attention to the trigger warnings because this fic was a deep dive into my head that took me almost six months to write because of the emotions non mc experiences are things I think about or go through daily.
There is angst, there is light smut & there will be a happy ending.
Word count: 1,777
Ongoing
Prologue: Gone
Caleb
She’s gone.
Two words. Two simple words. Words that don’t even register at first as I stood in the hospital corridor, staring at the doctor, blinking slowly like that would change what he had just told me.
I didn’t ask him how. I didn’t ask him where. I didn’t even ask if she suffered.
Because I already knew.
Xavier had told me the whole story, and I had hoped… hoped with everything in me that he was lying. That they hadn’t been attacked by a Wanderer while out on patrol. That the Wanderer hadn’t landed on top of them during one stupid slip up. That it hadn’t crushed her almost beyond recognition.
Xavier was still alive with a broken leg and some bumps and bruises.
But she was… gone.
And that was all that mattered.
I didn’t answer the doctor. I didn’t even bother to look at him or my childhood friend, Doctor Zayne, standing directly behind him.
I simply walked away.
Someone… probably Zayne, the doctor or the nurse who had been in the room with her, called out… probably wanting me to fill out paperwork or ask me questions as her emergency contact, but I didn’t stop.
I kept walking.
Out of the hospital. Out of the parking lot. All the way home.
It’s not until I’m standing in the foyer of the house we had picked out together three years ago that I realized I left my car at the hospital. Realized that somewhere along the way it had started raining, I’m completely soaked, and my clothes are sticking uncomfortably to my skin and dripping all over the floor.
I stared at the white tiles beneath my feet, watching a puddle start to form on the meticulously polished floor without really seeing it.
All I can think about is how mad she would be if she was here to see it.
Not about the water, but the possibility of me getting sick from being out in the rain.
She would fuss at me to go take a shower and change my clothes while trying to reach my hair with a towel even though I’m over a foot taller than her.
After following her orders and taking a hot shower, she would make me sit down on the couch, bring me a cup of chamomile tea and force me to wrap up in a blanket all while insisting that I call into work tomorrow to get some rest.
A low rumble of thunder in the distance pulled me out of my head and I realized I had left the door open.
Cool air from outside suddenly blew through the foyer, and the scent of rain hit me.
The rain…
Memories start to flood my mind… of her laughing as she tried to avoid getting soaked… of us dancing in the middle of our driveway in the rain, carefree and happy… of her clinging to me, safe in my arms during a severe thunderstorm after I told her I loved her for the first time.
With a shuddering sigh, I closed the door behind me, shutting out the relentless downfall and the memories that try to haunt me.
After that, my body moved on autopilot… I slip off my sopping wet shoes, place my keys, wallet and phone in the decorative bowl she has on the table beside the front door and shrug off my coat, leaving it laying on the floor without caring that the expensive material will likely wrinkle.
The house feels empty.
Cold. Quiet… all the warmth has been sucked right out of it.
It’s a sharp contrast to the bright laughter that had filled the space just this morning.
I took a few steps into the living room, a shiver running through me as the cool air hits my damp clothes. The lamp on the end table is the only source of light in the otherwise dark room… the one she insisted on leaving on for me every night, so I didn’t run into any furniture when I came home late from work.
There are small reminders of her presence everywhere… a mug from this morning left on the coffee table, a half-read book sitting face down on the arm of the couch, her favorite sweater thrown over the back of an armchair…
Trinkets scattered on the shelves, the half dozen throw pillows she insisted we needed to make our house feel homey, fuzzy blankets draped over the back of the couch…
A row of pictures on the mantel… all captured moments of the two of us over the years…
Sitting by the lake, her head resting on my shoulder as we watched the sun set…
Sitting on the couch, her straddling my lap with our foreheads pressed together, grinning at each other like a couple of loons…
At a music festival, goofy looks on our faces and her fingers behind my head giving me rabbit ears…
At a restaurant… at a party for Xavier… outside a movie theater… us… us… us… us…
And the one… from a month ago… on the day I asked her to marry me.
Unconsciously, I moved closer and stared at the picture… at her smiling face, at the happiness that was once mine.
My eyes trace along the lines of her face, following the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, the shape of her lips…
A shudder makes its way through my body as my breath comes out in a long, shaky exhale.
I lift a hand, running my fingers over the cool surface of the frame holding the picture of the two of us on the day I proposed and the memory floods my mind with ruthless efficiency.
The sound of her laughter as we walked through her favorite park. The way she buried her face in my chest and breathed me in when I pulled her into a hug and whispered, “Will you marry me?” in her ear.
Her face had lit up, her eyes wide with awe and her cheeks tinged pink. She had shouted “Yes!” then launched herself at me, causing both of us to stumble and fall together in a tangle of limbs and giggles.
We had rolled around in the grass, laughing as she cried and told me how much she loved me… an older couple had witnessed my proposal and taken a photo of that happy moment and sent it to us… which she had printed and framed the next day.
Reaching up, I took the frame off the mantel and sank to my knees on the floor, my legs finally giving out under me as it finally hit me.
She wasn’t coming back…
I would never hear her voice telling me how much she loved me…
I would never hold her again while watching stupid movies and throwing popcorn at one another…
I would never smell her perfume lingering on my uniform from the dozen times she hugged me before finally allowing me to leave for work…
I would never taste her lips as she kissed me until she was giggling so hard she started snorting because her cherry lip gloss was all over my face…
I would never see her sleepy, happy expression when we woke up cuddled together like a pair of content housecats…
With a strangled sob, I pressed my fingers against her face… trying to feel her warmth one more time. A sharp pain shot through my chest when all I felt was cold glass and the tears I had been holding back started to fall.
“Caleb… come back… I still need you…”
The sound of her voice echoed in my mind with words she would use to get me back in her arms for one last hug… one last kiss, and for a brief moment, it felt like she is right there… standing behind me… arms wrapped around my shoulders and chin resting on top my head…
My body trembled as I clenched the frame tighter in my hands, as I tried to fight the overwhelming emotions that threatened to drown me… grief, anger, guilt, regret.
The memories of her smile, her laugh and her sweet scent were tormenting me… mocking me… letting me know I could never have those things again.
And just like that a wave of anger washed over me.
Anger towards myself, for not being there to protect her… anger towards Fate, for being so cruel… anger at Xavier for surviving… and even anger towards my surroundings.
Towards the stupid mug with a grinning cat on the side…
Towards the romance book she had read a dozen times sitting on the arm of the couch she had picked out simply because she loved the color…
Towards the hand knitted sweater she had bought at a market made of the ‘softest material she had ever felt’ draped over the chair we had made love in just last night…
And towards the damned antique clock on the wall, ticking away in a steady rhythm that felt almost like a mockery of life itself marching on its steady course while she was gone.
That most of all made me want to smash everything to rubble, to destroy the reminders that time would keep passing, everyone would go on with their lives while she lay in a grave eventually to be forgotten because of one… stupid… mistake.
I wanted to let go, let gravity take its toll and destroy every single reminder in this godforsaken room, in this house, that told the story that she had been alive less than six hours ago… safe in my arms…
… but now, she was gone, and she was never coming back.
I don’t know how long I knelt there, staring blankly at the picture in my trembling hands, but eventually, the cold seeping through my clothes and the dampness of my pants finally made their presence known through the numbness that had taken over me.
A violent shiver wracked my body, snapping me out of my dazed stupor, and without realizing it my grip loosened, the frame dropping to the hardwood floor at my knees causing the glass to crack right over our faces.
Staring down at the distorted image of us; me with my arms wrapped around her waist as she lay on top of me in the grass and her with her high cheekbones, huge grin and bright blue eyes sent another jolt of pain through me.
With another sob, I slumped against the fireplace, my breathing coming out in ragged gasps as my body finally gave out and I collapsed to the floor…
Come back, I still need you…
Want to read more fanfics about the LaDs boys? Check out my list here.
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i’ve been really into scifi mercenaries and scifi related games/stories for a few months now, and i can’t help but think that caleb as a mercenary or different species would just hit different. like i’m thinking of him being a full-blown gunslinger with a taste for danger or an undiscovered race that can take to the skies.
obviously love and deepspace is already a scifi game and plot, but imagine the other possibilities of the li’s backstories! i need caleb as a teasing gunslinging mercenary with a habit of collecting “space rocks” now, or i’m gonna go crazy.
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Rafayel 🐟
I wanted to do something more *minimal* but I actually don’t think I’m fully capable lol
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my strongest piece of evidence that there will be a sixth li in lads eventually is not the stella colors or the coming soon… it’s that they changed the schedule for open orbit. it is very unbalanced now… but it could be fixed by adding a 6th dude. There needs to be another mon/thur/sat/sun!!!
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HAPPY SPRINGFRESH DAY FELLOW HUNTERS! 🌺🏵
Don’t forget to check your in game mail 📩
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Good morning, my little bodyguard.
— Rafayel. Memoria Before sunrise
Aprovechando que he alcanzado la afinidad 151 con Rafayel, comparto algunas de mis poses favoritas del photobooth.
Confieso que los brillis del pelo de Rafayel del outfit de Ignited Echoes aparecen en el 99,9 % de mis fotos. No me escondo 🤭
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Brand-new Meow Badges Series: Meowssical Series 🎶
⏰️ Event Duration: From 05:00 on Mar. 23 to 04:59 on Apr. 13 (Server Time)
🎫 Limited-time Kitty Ticket : From 05:00 on Apr. 6 to 04:59 on Apr. 13 (server time), Hunters can purchase 1x Kitty Ticket with 10 diamons at: Shop -> Selected with a purchase limit of 5 tickets
🐱 Limited-time Meow Badge Collection Rerun: Pawfessions
⏰️ From 05:00 on Apr. 1 to 04:59 on May 1 (server time), Pawfessions Meow Badges will have a limited-time rerun. Use regular Meowcos to collect them! 🤩
Note : After the event ends, the Meowssical Meow Badges and other limited-time Meow Badges will rerun in the future.
