cw: a little suggestive, caleb finds your ao3 but it's not that bad i promise, one mention of him being reader's older brother figure when they were growing up (they're not related), mainly crack
[Header by me, no reposting without credit pls!]
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Caleb usually prides himself in the fact that his discipline is practically unmatched. Like a doberman whoβs been ordered to sit still as the scent of perfectly cut meat lays at its feet, heβs kept his feelings under lock and key. Held back his desires throughout the years, suffocating that flame of want under the pretence of fitting into the role of protector. Your older brother, your rock. Dependable, and always there to pull you out of whatever mess youβd gotten yourself into. From falling off the swing in the playground and busting your knee as a kid, to getting into fights with a senior who was three times your size as a freshman in high school. Calebβs managed to smooth out every wrinkle of trouble youβve managed to leave in your wake.
So it shouldnβt come as a surprise when he spots your photo amidst the hundreds of insignificant faces amongst the Fleetβs watchlist. Reason being? Being Linkon cityβs number one hunter of the year despite having only a year of experience, working a side gig as a certain controversial artistβs bodyguard slash accomplice. Not to mention, and he blanched when his eyes landed on this part, youβd snuck into the N109 Zone and supposedly became "acquaintances" with the leader of Onichynus. Whatever that meant, anyway.
And, of course, being in possession of an Aether Core.
Caleb could feel the sides of his skull closing in on his brain, as if the black hole heβd been maintaining in there decided to expand and swallow the rest of his brain cells along with the Toring Chip.
Maybe he shouldβve monitored your messenger app too.
And thatβs exactly what he does after getting home to his apartment in Skyhaven that day. Cracks open his laptop, opens his hidden browser thatβs locked behind a twenty-two digit pin (because youβd somehow guessed the last one, despite it being completely random. Something about his keyboard smashes being too predictable), and types in the pin you use for every account. He sighs in slight exasperation, but fondly nonetheless as he logs into your account without a hitch. Caleb briefly makes a mental note to set up the two-step authentication for your important accounts.
A few minutes of scrolling is all it takes for the man to come to the conclusion that: 1) your social circle is the most random and dysfunctional thing on earth since his mental health, and 2) he shouldβve kept you on a tighter leash because now you have four other men (including yours and his mutual childhood friend, what the heck, Zayne?) thirsting over you. Whether youβve noticed or not, Calebβs not sure. But one thingβs for certain. He wonβt let you be coerced into some shady relationship with an even shadier artist who has a suspiciously long list of deceased patrons, or be whisked away by a literal mafia boss to the N109 Zone. Your too-close-neighbour also seemed to be particularly infatuated with you. And maybe he should start joining you on your appointments to Akso Hospital-
Calebβs thoughts are derailed when he comes across a new addition to your messenger app. A group chat, with only yourself as a member. At first glance, it serves as your makeshift grocery list and reminders all in one, but the recent links catch his eye.
βaβ¦oβ¦ 3..?β He mumbles aloud to himself, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. What kind of site was this? He couldnβt recall you ever mentioning it. Were you being scammed? Or worse, being blackmailed? Caleb nibbles at his bottom lip, tearing a piece of the dry skin. He was positive that heβd gotten rid of all your middle school cosplay photos youβd posted online.
Time blurs and literal hours pass by as the man binges fic after fic on your profile, from your own cursed creations to the ones youβve bookmarked for later. By the time the morning light streams in through his bedroom window, Calebβs eyes are bloodshot and he hears all of his bones cracking when he straightens his back. He looks up at the sky with a new perspective.
As his mouse hovers over the (mildly suspicious) link, he clicks and it opens up a tab on his browser. Calebβs not sure what he was expecting, but it wasnβt the absolute abomination of words stretching across the screen in the section called βtagsβ. Words heβd never even seen before in his life. Words that should never even be placed in a sentence together. What the heck was βdead dove do not eatβ?
Fanfiction was⦠enjoyable. Breaking the boundaries of regular published novels, and written purely for the love of a piece of media and sharing it with the rest of the audience without expecting anything else in return. At its core, it was a noble feat-
Caleb groans, flushing down to his neck as his brain spews more nonsense on why fanfiction was the most amazing thing after you. No amount of bs could bs away the mess of crumpled tissue paper strewn across the floor, or the utterly demolished panties heβd stolen youβd forgotten last time you visited.
snowghoul
pixelskylines
gamechangershow
2087
germansingergirl
vaporwave
theartofmadeline
