‘here’s what you don’t understand,’ caleb said, his voice low and steady as he stepped closer. his gaze bore into yours, unflinching, filled with an intensity that made your heart stutter. ‘i would live a thousand lives just to get to you.’
caleb’s hand came up, and he rested it against one of your cheeks, his thumb catching your lip. you swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat, but he wasn’t done.
‘i would die time and time again, dig out my own grave if it means i can come home to you,’ he said, his voice trembling slightly with the weight of his confession.
you just witnessed your heartbreaker break into a thousand pieces, the vulnerable side of him slowly unmasked, and you saw it. he looked so, so tired. he was all pale skin contrasted with harsh colours; his eyes were bruised violet underneath, his lips were chapped to a raw red, and his usual glowing irises were a dull, cold black.
his lips were so close to yours now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. you wanted to push him away, wanted to move out of his grasp, but you weren’t strong enough for any of it.
‘if i can’t have you in this universe,’ he murmured, his voice barely audible, ‘i’ll make sure i’ll be there in the next.’
it felt like surrender to close your eyes, to let caleb touch his lips where he wanted, to let his mouth ghost your cheek, but you were tired of the battle. he must have felt the resistance give away, because he cupped his hand purposefully around your jaw and tipped your mouth up with a finger on your chin.
he paused, his breath hitching, before backing away just enough to meet your eyes fully. his gaze softened but remained resolute, holding a depth that made you shiver.
‘you belong with me,’ he said firmly.
your unsteady heart was about to detonate. you opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat as he added, softer now, gentler, as if he were speaking a truth only he could see.
‘you just can’t see it… yet.’
his words lingered, weaving into the air around you like a thread that couldn’t be broken. you wanted to fight it, wanted to deny him, but the conviction in his voice planted a seed of doubt in the walls you’d built to keep him out. and that terrified you more than anything.
caleb blinked at you. the storm had cleared in his eyes. he almost looked surprised to see you standing there. he put his cap on, his movements slow, deliberate, as if bracing himself to leave.
‘you’re not the same person i knew,’ you said suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words spilled out before you could stop them, heavy and trembling with unspoken pain.
caleb met your torn stare as you observed him closely, trying to detect what it was that was currently going through his mind.
‘not the same,’ he repeated, shaking his head with a quiet, bitter laugh. he looked at you then, his eyes heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. ‘i still love you, don’t i?’
the words hung in the air, raw and piercing, cutting through whatever resolve you thought you had left. he turned slightly, as if to leave, but hesitated, his shoulders stiff, waiting for a response you weren’t sure you could give.
but he stepped away, disheveled and breathing hard, staring harshly at you. the look in his eyes was terrible. terrifying. then, as if the silence itself pushed him to speak again, his voice low but steady.
‘i’m the same person,’ he said, his gaze locking onto yours. ‘i’m just not willing to let you go this time.’
Imagine if Caleb didn't say anything about him being alive because he knew he was an active threat to you, and that Ever wanted to use him as a weapon against you. So he opted to silently disappear from your life and take down Ever in the background. He would climb the ranks, he would tear them apart, piece by piece. He would use his position as Colonel of the Farspace Fleet to gain the power to destroy everyone who hurt you, hurt him, all while you thought he was dead.
He was resigned to disappearing from your life, so long as you were okay somewhere else. He would let his feelings for you die. He was fine being away from you. He was okay being dead to you. So long as you were safe and happy. So long as Ever wasn't a threat, nor was he a threat.
But then you showed up again. And things changed. And the moment you kept pushing for answers and pushing for him to come back in his life, he relented. Despite how insistent he was that he was no longer who you knew, you still wanted him back, you fought so vehemently to get him to stay.
So he had to stay with you. He couldn't ignore the want he had inside of him, eating away at him. After all, he's a man to you now, and he made that clear. And you seemed open to the idea of being by his side, no longer just childhood friends or brother and sister figures.
Just... he also has to now figure out how to protect you. Especially when the biggest ticking time bomb? The biggest weapon pointed at you?
tw: mentions of injuries, possessive Caleb 😝, post-disappearance Caleb.
you are.
The first thing you know, before you see anything, before you hear anything, is that you are.
It’s not a comforting feeling at first. It’s just a fact, a presence that is there, undeniable. You don’t smell anything—no familiar scents of home or the usual warmth of Caleb’s jacket. You don’t hear anything—no hum of the air conditioner or the soft breathing of those around you.
But you are.
You are, and that simple truth is like a small, flickering light in the darkness, reminding you that you exist. That despite the ache in your body, despite everything that has happened, you are still here. You are still alive.
It’s almost a relief, but it’s also jarring. The absence of everything you normally rely on leaves you with the raw, fundamental truth: you are here, in this moment, and that is all you know for sure.
But you are.
You exist.
And something else exists right alongside you.
Warmth presses into your side, not gentle but consuming. A presence, overwhelming, solid, him.
Then, his voice—low, raw, dangerous in its quiet intensity.
“You’re awake.”
The words are calm, but there’s nothing calm about Caleb. Not really. His face hovers close, too close, his storm-blue eyes drilling into yours like he’s trying to anchor you there, to keep you from slipping away again
You try to speak, to ask what happened, but your throat is dry, and the words catch. His grip tightens ever so slightly—not cruel, just firm, as though he can’t bear the thought of you slipping away even for a second.
“Don’t.” His breath is ragged, but the command is absolute. “Don’t speak. Don’t move. I’ve got you. I’m not—” His voice breaks, just for a heartbeat. “Just don’t.”
there’s an uncomfortable silence for a minute, then another, none of you say anything as you fidget with the sheets of the hospital bed- you hate the texture of these. they make your skin feel itchy.
You try to sit up, but his hand- warm, rough and calloused stops you, he pushes you down and makes you lay back down.
then, he speaks.
“I’m going to ask you who did this to you,” he starts, his voice barely shaking. In a way that it’s barely noticeable. Maybe you notice because you’re you. Because- maybe deep down he is who he used to be. “And you’re going to tell me so I know who exactly I’m dealing with and so that I can-”
He stops himself when you take his hand.
He stops himself when you look up at him with those big damn eyes he loves so much.
And then he’s holding you.
Not carefully, not like he’s afraid of hurting you, but like he’s afraid of losing you. His arms crush you against his chest, his face pressing into your neck, and you can feel it—how hard he’s breathing, how his heart hammers against yours like it’s still trying to outrun the fear of losing you.
You hear him whisper your name. Once. Twice. A desperate mantra, as though saying it enough will prove you’re really here. Really alive.
“I thought—” His voice cracks again, harsher this time, his breath hitching. You feel damp warmth where his face rests against your shoulder.
He doesn’t finish that sentence either.
Instead, his grip tightens, just a little, and you realize it’s not just desperation—it’s relief. He’s holding you like he’s memorizing the shape of you all over again, as if to convince himself you’re real, safe, breathing. Alive.
okay I'm seeing a lot of Caleb revival theories and I just had an Idea and that is his body had suffered so much damage that he effectively was dead BUT Carter/ever/someone is doing some weird experimental shit with protocores to keep him alive and it's slowly turning him into something monstrous
1900 words. pining. possessive behaviour. sexual tension. obsession. light stalking.
{Dedicated to @mythblossoms and @spiderlilypetals aka the enablers of my mental instability}
Note: this entire thing is me basically calling out @rose-tinted-kalopsia, @unluckywisher, and @starmocha for setting off a Caleb-sized inferno in my brain and keeping the fire going for weeks now. All of you on my feed combined with the lyrics of this song are entirely to blame so here’s me getting Caleb out of my system (liar) xoxo
The barrier between focus and obsession was glass-thin and shaped like a trigger. One decision, one small flick of a finger away from shattering.
Obsession was an itch, fleeting, temporary. But focus? Focus was ambition, determination, winning.
That’s why Caleb had always been a creature of restraint, the very picture of self-control. As a boy, when he set his sights on something, he never burned with want. Wanting was purposeless.
Instead he would set his focus on whatever it was — sweets, trinkets, secrets, toys — until he found a way to make it his. Until he carefully maneuvered the object of his desires right into his little grasp.
Caleb didn’t wish, he didn’t desire.
He conquered.
Only this time, his focus wasn’t on a conquest. It wasn’t on a mission, or a lab data report, or a secret he could use to his advantage. It wasn’t power or strategy or survival.
It was you.
From the very beginning, you’d been the object of his focus. Your affection, your thoughts, your wit, your emotions. Everything that made you tick, he’d picked up and studied like the rarest gem.
And now? Now your fingerprints were sewn permanently into his heart, holding together the thing that beat in his chest. Now, he was light years apart from the boy he’d been, and yet you still gripped it tightly, your hand too small to keep that shriveled and charred, bloody mess together.
But the taste of your laughter, the sound of your skin, the feeling of your scent? Every moment of disorientation you created within him only served to reinforce his lifelong focus on you.
Military training, tests, experimentation chambers, nothing upended the center of his gravity like you.
From the dim hallway, Caleb watched you. His gaze — deep purple with motes of gold, an iris bloom washed in sunset — mapped the coordinates of your smile, measured the radar of your thumping pulse, calculated the precise trajectory of your movements as you fluttered around the small group of Hunters you were meeting with at the Association for a late night UNICORNS debrief.
You’d never understood entirely how you affected him. No one did, he’d made sure of it. Not your mutual friends growing up, not the woman who’d raised you, not the laughing fool you were talking to right now. Not even your Hunter partner across the table from you.
Caleb knew you better. Treated you better. He always had.
It’s because none of them actually took the time to see you, not really. Not like he did. And no matter how far apart you two got, that would never change.
You were an enigma to them, a cluster of ridges and buttons in a cockpit, unfulfilled in an amateur's grasp. Dormant without expert handling and care.
But Caleb had long ago solved you — your wants, your vulnerabilities, your secrets, your fears, your weaknesses. He'd seen you bared before him and had figured you out. Down to the very core in your heart.
Even within the darkest depths of the universe, with no sense or feeling, he would know exactly where to trail each of his fingers. How much pressure to apply to every delicate divot. The precise combination and rhythm to elicit a response.
The way he could guide you, command you, the way he could make you take flight for him? It would be… explosive.
The melody of your sudden laughter extinguished the heat that had started to lick its way down his body as he watched you give them the version of yourself they expected. Amiable, innocent, polished.
As your meeting came to an end and you and your colleagues stood to leave, the shadows shifted around Caleb as he pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against. Pulling the DAA clearance card that had kept the door behind him open, he took a step into the corridor that would lead to his quiet exit.
Only he knew where your smile dented into your cheek. Only he knew the cadence of your breaths when you spoke. Only he knew what you looked like when your guard was truly down. When you sighed, cried, hurt, and slept. Only he was worthy of seeing it.
Only Caleb had forged himself into a man worthy of loving you.
The night was thick with fog when he watched you step out of the Hunter’s Association, your shadow dancing across the concrete under the warm glow of the street lamps.
As you parted ways with your colleagues, Caleb studied the elegant line of your throat, the way it expanded and contracted around the hum of your voice.
He knew the exact shape of it by memory, — all those times you'd looked up at him to smile at him, to talk to him, to argue with him — the softness of the delicate skin there, the way it would feel under his palm, under his mouth. Fluttering, warm, alive.
He wasn’t supposed to be here, not away from Skyhaven, not in a darkened alleyway by your workplace where the lamp light barely even reached.
But as the sound of your footsteps ticked over the hum of the city, as each of your movements brought you closer to the corner of the building, to him, the oxygen funneling into his brain seemed to thin, and the rational part of his mind, his focus, took a backseat.
The sight of you walking toward him was so right, so inevitable that Caleb barely even realized how far out of the shadows he was leaning, how quickly he’d snapped himself back into your orbit.
He, the metal, you, the magnet.
The fist of his right arm clenched as he forced himself to stay in place, to stop leaning toward you on the off chance the sweetness of your skin would enter his nose. The connection between you was so physical, pulled so taut, that he almost couldn’t believe you'd never sought to close the distance, that you’d ever accepted his death so easily.
That had always been your biggest mistake, though. Thinking that he’d ever allow something as trivial as mortality to sever what bound you to him.
He shouldn’t reach for you. He knew that. And yet, as you closed the distance, he stepped closer. Just enough to feel your presence pull against him.
His evol stirred, faint but insistent, brushing against the edges of your space like a ribbon. The pull of you was so familiar, so tangible, he could feel every cell, all the matter that made up your beautiful existence.
Suddenly, without his permission, his hand shot out, gently enveloping your wrist as you passed.
You spun around, your instincts awakened, and in one fluid motion the barrel of your gun was aimed at his chest. He almost chuckled at the sight, but the intensity on your face kept him quiet.
Your eyes widened, shock and incredulity clicking into place when they finally registered Caleb’s presence. “You…” the sentence withers in your throat.
“Hello, pip,” he said softly, raising a brow at the gun. “Still using that move?”
Your eyes flicked across the contours of his face like a laser, his hair, his cheeks, his eyes, his jaw, no detail escaping your notice before you stuttered, “C-Caleb? Bu— You’re supposed to be…”
He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as the letters of his name curled around your tongue for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “I still might if you don’t put that away,” he said mildly.
Your grip on the weapon tightened reflexively, but it didn’t lower. Interesting.
Moving with military-like precision, too quickly for you to counteract it, Caleb’s hand shot out, hitting the gun and dislodging it from your grasp.
You froze, hooking your gaze into his as he tested the weight of it in his hand, the barrel pointing at your chest for one second, two seconds, three... before he aimed it at the ground.
“Tsk, tsk. So careless.” The soft click of the safety flicking on pierced the air between them. “Someone could’ve gotten hurt, pipsqueak.”
“How did you… how are you…?” there’s a faint tremor in your tone and your eyes turn glassy.
“Shh,” Caleb stepped closer, close enough to feel your shaky exhale against his throat like a wave of summer air, close enough to reach around you to place your gun back in the holster on your hip. Close enough that his forehead brushed yours. “I missed you too.”
For half a second, he saw your guard slip, your face caught between disbelief and longing.
And then, like feeling an engine ignite, he knew exactly which of your buttons he’d just flicked. Before the anger even had a chance to crackle across your irises. Before your palms came up to his chest and shoved at it. “I went to your funeral.”
“My funeral, hm?” His body had barely swayed, but his amused, love-drunk smile never wavered when he decided to press another button. “Did you cry for me, then?”
Caleb’s evol flared, and he had your hands lowered — eyelashes fluttering in surprise, back and palms pinned to the building behind you — before you’d even finished the thought of shoving him again.
With your hands out of the way, as you struggled against the bindings of his evol, Caleb finally took the chance to cup your face in his hands, cradling it like it was the very nucleus of his life force.
“Hey. Hey,” he soothed, re-familiarizing himself with the contour of your jaw beneath his fingers. “I’d never leave you in a world without me, pip, you know me better than that.”
“I thought I did,” you gritted out, the confusion and betrayal in your voice slowing your movements. "Now, I'm not so sure."
He took advantage of your hesitation, brushing the bow of his upper lip against the bump of your lower one.
“You do, though,” he reassured. “Just like I know you. Better than anyone ever could.” Caleb reached out, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “Your anger, your love” His hand went to the steel-chain tag that hung around his neck. “Wants. Needs.” His nose traced the bridge of yours and he reveled in another one of your shaky breaths. “Outside…” His voice roughened, “Inside.”
Just as you quit struggling, just as your confusion fissured and your body turned languid against his, just as you gave in, Caleb released you, taking a step back to enjoy the sight of you trying to find your footing.
“Now you’ll never doubt that I’ll always find you.” His mouth curved into the charismatic smile he was known to flash at his general when he gestured toward the street. “It’s late, pipsqueak. Get yourself home.”
Your chest heaved with what were no doubt a dozen of your favorite insults, but you didn’t voice any of them. Instead, you clenched your jaw, straightened your shoulders, and bit out, “I’m going to— I can’t believe— No, I can’t do this right now. This isn’t over, Caleb.”
You turned sharply on your heel, your footsteps echoing in the silence as you walked away, steps stiff and uneven. And Caleb watched as the shadows swallowed your figure and you disappeared from view.
He’d wait, he decided. he could play the long game. He already spent all these months away from you, what were a few more if it helped you realize the raw, unfiltered truth — that he belonged to you.
And that was the moment the glass barrier shattered, a pulled trigger that splintered his focus into shards of obsession.
okay I'm seeing a lot of Caleb revival theories and I just had an Idea and that is his body had suffered so much damage that he effectively was dead BUT Carter/ever/someone is doing some weird experimental shit with protocores to keep him alive and it's slowly turning him into something monstrous
thinking thoughts about bringing the lads boys home for the holidays.
sylus might ruffle a few feathers, especially when they see that he brought you there on his motorcycle. he looks intimidating, and your family might have some thoughts about your taste in men. but he quickly charms everyone, and his 💸laugh💸 has your family pulling you aside and asking when he's gonna put a ring on it.
zayne would probably have a nice enough time, but some of your family might think he's a bit too reserved. he's a bit blunt as well, but if you just point him to the desserts, he'll be as happy as a clam. and once you tell your family that he's a surgeon, they immediately accept him into the fold.
rafayel would have the attention of all the younger cousins, and i think he would be flattered and slightly exasperated by it at the same time. they're begging for his attention while he's begging for yours. he'd definitely entertain everyone with his theatrical personality.
xavier would probably be stuck to your side the whole time. you told him that he was in charge of bringing the bottles of soda and paper plates, so he was still a bit indignant. he's perfectly within his element once that post-meal naptime rolls around, though.
the rise of chatbots is hurting my rper heart. WHERE IS THE FLAVOR?? the answer is that ai has none, and we have to take it into our own hands to smash together characters like dolls.
so
this is a call for people (18+!!) who want to do some rp for the following fandoms!
i think a lot of people forget that sylus is like actually unhinged. i know in the newer cards he's being sweet, our cute little meow meow, but please remember that less than 24 hours into knowing mc, he goaded them into literally shooting him in the chest and then SMILED in their face as he was covered in his own blood. he does have a healing ability, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't feel pain. he's a freak and we need to respect that.
Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.
Word Count: 1061
Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.
---
Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.
But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.
You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.
You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.
Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.
---
The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.
One man seems to be at least.
By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.
Right to your sleeping dragon.
Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.
It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader.
Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.
His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.
It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room.
Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.
You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.
“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.
“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.”
He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.
You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”
You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.
“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”
You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”
“I promise.”
And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.
---
Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)
god i forgot how much i missed this blog. i finally have a laptop that works again, and now that i'm back on desktop tumblr (the superior version) i think i'm gonna try to dip my toes back into the water. maybe write a couple drabbles, some headcanons, some imagines. idk, i just wanna stretch my writing muscles again.
Now in your mid teens, you forgot all about the monster under your bed. One night though, it wakes you up saying “You’re not safe. You need to get out of here”
I started from sleep, slowly regaining my bearings, a sense of unease settled in my chest. Something was... out of place. Different. Wrong. From my vantage point as I laid on my side, my eyes scanned the majority of the room. Nothing wrong there. The dresser, scattered with random bits and bobs sat next to my bed along the wall, and I could see the nightlight inside the bathroom still shining from under the closed door. My fan was still blowing, the bedroom door was closed. Nothing so far looked out of place. The only thing I couldn't see was towards the foot of my bed, and the closet on the far wall of the room. I turned my head ever-so-slightly, but before I could move even an inch, I hear something that chills me to my bones and freezes me in place.
"Don't look."
The voice was deep, raspy, and most terrifyingly of all, very, very close. I didn't look, as it instructed. I didn't dare even breathe. My mind began to race in time with my heart, and it seemed like they were competing to see which one could go faster. Was this some kind of sleep paralysis? I'd never had it before, but I had heard the horror stories. You would wake up in the middle of the night, unable to move, and were subject to terrifying images. As a test, I tried wiggling my toes. Okay, those were working, as far as I could tell. I could move, even though I was far too terrified to try anything more.
If it wasn't sleep paralysis, could I still have just imagined that voice? Some lingering sleepiness still playing tricks on my senses? I strained my ears to hear anything else, and I realized that there was some kind of humming noise, just audible over the fan. It wasn't mechanical, not like the heating had kicked on or somebody was using the microwave. What was that? Without thinking, I turned my head again, trying to find the source of the sound.
"Stop!" The voice nearly barked the command, and I yelped in fear.
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?! Was there somebody in here? I was panting in primal fear, and I tried to think of anything that I could do to defend myself. There was my phone on the dresser next to me. That wouldn't help. I hated cops anyway, and they'd be too late to help even if I did call them. Especially if the threat was already in my room. What could I do?!
I nearly spiraled into a panic, but then I heard something that made me pause.
"You're not safe. You need to get out of here." It didn't sound like a threat. It sounded concerned, which was so confusing that it knocked the incoming panic attack right out of my body.
"What?" My voice was meek and shaky, as I was still so short of breath.
"Please, you have to go. But don't look at the closet. That's how it gets you."
This had to be some weird dream. Or maybe I didn't really know what sleep paralysis was. But this was just... too weird.
"How what gets me? Who are you?"
I started again when I heard shuffling coming from under the bed. Slowly, a huge horned figure rose from the floor, nearly brushing the ceiling at its full height.
"I'm your, uh... monster under the bed. And I'm gonna save you." It's fanged mouth turned up at the corners in some approximation of a smile. My brain and heart must have finished their race against one another, because both of them seemed to stop at once. Everything went black as my body decided that that was enough weird shit for one night and clocked out.
“Are you sure you’re fine living on this street?” “Yes mom. The werewolves across the street party too loud, but they turn it down if I ask them. Plus the vampire family next door keeps the crime rate low here”
SO A little while ago I became quite frustrated with how there’s no free and/or server-free “Wiki” style encyclopedia template out there (that I could find), so I went and made my own. Feel free to copy, modify, and improve upon as you please for all your worldbuilding, research, and other writing needs! No credit necessary.
Notes:
You can link multiple documents together with the same template using insert bookmark / links. With the right sharing settings for all pages, you can make your own little self-hosted knowledge base.
This template looks best with the seamless pages option.Certain areas may push different containers around, as this is all made with regular doc features and requires no plugins.
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i write stuff @queer-author - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
