#lore caleb

[mapsthewanderer]

Caleb’s sigil/crest- Tomorrow’s Catch outfit

What tf is that crest?!

- Another myth speculation

Yes, I’m talking about THAT sigil/crest. Aside from the obvious, which is that there are wings on the outside of the centre of the sigil:

I have spent too much time trying to figure out what tf those thingy’s are.

WELL LEMME TELL YA

FIRE TONGS! Not fire POKERS, BUT TONGS. WELL?! THEY LOOK LIKE BIRB CLAWS TOO omfg

A broken clock is right twice a day, right?

Please, anyone. Tell me that I’m seriously delulu, but this further confirms my suspicions on Caleb being some kind of fiery birb *breaks*

BECAUSE:

While fire pokers aren’t specifically a mythological tool associated with creatures like the Vermilion Bird or Phoenix in Chinese culture, fire tools in general do hold symbolic significance in fire-related rituals and spiritual practices. The Phoenix and Vermilion Bird, both deeply connected to the element of fire, metaphorically align with the ideas of transformation, rebirth, and renewal—concepts that can be associated with the act of tending fire using tools like fire pokers and/or tongs.

THAT CROWN THO

The crown throws me off bigtime, but I have concluded with the following:

There isn’t a direct or widely known historical connection between a three-pointed crown and the phoenix (Fènghuáng, 凤凰) or the Vermilion Bird (Zhūquè, 朱雀) in Chinese mythology, but there are some interesting symbolic parallels:

1. Three as a Sacred Number

In many cultures, the number three represents balance, harmony, and the connection between heaven, earth, and humanity. The Fenghuang and Vermilion Bird are both celestial creatures often associated with cosmic balance, so a three-pointed crown might symbolically align with them in that way.

2. Crest and Feathers

The Fenghuang and Vermilion Bird are often depicted with elaborate, flame-like crests on their heads. A three-spiked crown could metaphorically resemble this, especially if stylized to look like feathers or flames.

3. Imperial and Divine Associations

The Fenghuang is an imperial symbol, often linked to empresses and nobility in Chinese culture. Crowns, particularly ones with three points (which could symbolize heaven, earth, and the ruler), could conceptually fit within that framework.

Okey, so am I cooketh or cooking who knows but I will cry if he turns out being some kind of salty pirate. Jkjk I’m happy with more Caleb content BUT seriously…

If anybody out there have another opinion on what tf those thingies are, please let me know.

[fayfaygoes]

Her gun got you covered!

[harblkun]

I’m glad all the Caleb girlies are getting everything they wanted and more 👍✨

I am also glad to go back to the N109 Zone, thanks. Main Story MC may not be ready to speed-dial Sylus, but I am. It’s safer in the lawless wasteland.

[yukinohiko]

something about caleb spoiling you. it’s a habit he’s built since you both were young, and it’s certainly shaped your mannerisms and attitudes as you grew older. like a dove inside a gilded cage.

he’s indulgent with you. you snap and snarl; throw water cups and utensils; shove and push. and despite it all, he only ever accepts it. catches your wrist if your punches grow too violent, but not out of desire to stifle you — only to correct the way you fold your thumb into your fist.

you’ve grown to be quite spoiled at his hands. your first instinct is to look for your gege at any point, knowing he’ll give you answers where you have doubts, knowing he’ll console you when you’re upset, knowing he’ll soothe the ills of any displeasing situation.

when caleb’s own actions shift, take on darker intentions, your mind struggles to keep pace. his hold on gravity weighs your leg down as his hands cup your ankle, slide up your calf, slip under your thigh. his grip on your wrist tightens as his voice, once boyish now leering, croons promises of a garden — one structured like an inescapable maze.

you can’t reconcile this frightening visage with the memory of your indulgent gege. his hands are too rough; his words too cruel.

you struggle. you’re spoiled; and he’s spoiling you still.

he always will. he’s always been so fond of you, hasn’t he? even when his actions were misguided, leading to your tears in a locked attic, his intentions were always honed in on you.

“you. it’s always you,” he coos, brushing raindrops off your cheeks as he gazes down at you with the fondness born of a lifetime together.

the storm outside fills the room with shadows. the occasional flash of lightning eclipses him. his violet eyes look black, pupils swallowed by the night as he absorbs you so intently. your face, your body, your being. you.

your gege has always spoiled you. it’s made it quite difficult, you realize in hindsight, to find the will to fight him when that title loses its lustre.

[erandraws]

Are you normal or did Matthew Mercer tell you to your face that Essek Thelyss grew his hair out because he felt like he could finally settle down for a normal life and also because his boyfriend looks hot with long hair so why not him too.

[ughbrie]

tethered | caleb

⤜ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ- “Do you even realize,” he whispered, his voice low and uneven, “what you’re doing to me?”

You barely had a chance to respond before he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more desperate than before, as if he needed it, needed you, to steady the chaos inside him. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you in place, making escape an impossibility—not that you wanted to.

“You don’t get it,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his grip on you tightened. “I'll never let you go. Not again. Not ever. Not after this.” His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever it costs.”

(Or... a continuation of Caleb's limited 5 star memory: 'Painful Signal'.)

⤜ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ- caleb x female reader

⤜ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ- angst, smut, & fluff

⤜ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ- 6.9k

⤜ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ- nsfw, mdni, dom!caleb, spoilers and references to caleb’s myth/lore (lucid dreams) and bond story (rain's embrace), continuation of caleb’s limited five star memory (painful signal), themes of depression and trauma, mentions of the explosion, mentions of death, angst (slight-ish), possessive and obsessive behavior, implied virginity loss (mc and caleb), breast play, oral sex, fingering, sex toys (is caleb’s bionic arm considered a sex toy?), marking (biting), dirty talk, penetration (p in v), rough sex, unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, overstimulation, and mentions of ownership.

⤜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ- hiii, caleb finally urged me to post my first fanfic here, lol. when i played through his myth and five star memory, i couldn't help but feel that their interaction needed to be explored more. at first, i wanted to end this with just angst but i couldn't help it, i had to give caleb what he deserved after all. also english isn't my first language but i hope you enjoy!

"If that's what it takes to feel you, I'll accept it." he said, his voice steady but lined with an ache that made your heart clench.

The cold, unyielding touch of Caleb’s metal fingers sent a chill through your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your hand. His grip was deliberate, almost tender, as though he feared you might vanish if he let go.

You studied his face, the shadows beneath his eyes, the faint tension in his jaw. “But most of the time, I wish your pain could be lessened,” you murmured, your gaze drifting to the metal arm. A pang of guilt and sorrow surged within you, each thought of what he must have endured hitting like a blow. Images of him being in pain clawed at your mind.

You pulled your hand away, an instinctive retreat from the weight of it all. Caleb’s expression faltered, the fleeting moment of connection slipping from his grasp. His longing was palpable, but you couldn’t bear to stay still. Anger bubbled in your chest, white-hot and unforgiving.

“Is this the Fleet’s doing...?” you snapped, your voice trembling as fury replaced grief. “They won’t get away with this.”

The thought of what they had done to him—what they had stolen from him—burned in your veins. You turned sharply, ready to storm out, the resolve to confront his tormentors burning within you. But before you could reach the door, Caleb’s left arm shot out, his grip firm but careful, pulling you back into the solid wall of his chest.

"You think you can just... come and go as you please?" His voice rasped, low and raw. His hold tightened, and you felt the tremor in his body—the weight he carried, the pain he bore alone.

Caleb’s left arm anchored you against his chest with unrelenting force, his breath ghosting over your neck. “It’s even more painful,” he rasped, “when you take risks for my sake.”

His words carved through your anger, leaving only the hollow ache of understanding. "Is that so?" you whispered, your voice softer now, like a balm against the storm raging within him as you met his intense, stormy eyes.

Turning to face him, you let yourself fall into his fractured orbit, your arms slipping around his waist. You lunged forward, the force of your embrace tipping both of you against the edge of the hospital bed. The cool sheets crumpled beneath you, but the world outside ceased to exist. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your touch, but he didn’t resist.

"Then hold me, Caleb. Do it tightly. Use your right hand," you murmured, pressing your face into his chest. The plea hung in the air like a fragile doll wanting to be held.

His hesitation lasted only a moment before he obeyed, his arms closed around you—one warm, one cold, both unyielding. His bionic arm caged you as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

"You're the only one," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "who can ease my pain."

His grip told you everything his words could not: the fear of losing you again, the torment etched into his very being, and the solace he sought in your presence. As the machines hummed on, the pain and anger dulled, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

You looked up at him, tears pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over. The weight of your emotions clawed at your chest, raw and unrelenting. The memories of the explosion tore through you—flames consuming your home, the screams, the suffocating realization that Caleb and your grandmother were gone. And now here he was, alive but scarred, his very existence rewritten into something both familiar and foreign.

"I thought I lost you," your voice cracked, trembling under the strain of your confession. "For so long, I thought you were gone…" A tear slipped down your cheek, and you saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes—a storm of regret and longing that mirrored your own.

Caleb’s jaw tightened, and his hand—the bionic one—cupped your cheek with surprising gentleness. The cold metal was jarring against your skin, but there was a tenderness in the gesture that spoke of his desperation to keep you within reach.

"I never wanted to leave you, pip-squeak." he murmured, his voice strained. His thumb brushed away the tear trailing down your cheek. "It tore me apart."

His voice dropped, gravelly and harsh. "But knowing that there are people out there who’d use you, hurt you, for what you are—"

Your breath hitched, and the words struck like a hammer, cracking open wounds you thought had scarred over. "You don’t understand," you whispered, your fingers holding him tighter. "Losing you wasn’t just pain—it was like losing a piece of myself. And then to find you like this…"

Your gaze dropped to his bionic arm, the sharp edges glinting in the artificial light. "I can protect myself, you know, I would've preferred that you didn't have to go through all of this pain if it meant I had you by my side—"

His grip on you tightened, his other hand moving to cover yours, grounding you. "I understand you more than you think," he said darkly, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think I don’t remember the look on your face every time you put yourself in danger? Every time you thought someone else’s life was worth more than yours?" 

You flinched at the ferocity in his tone, but his words wrapped around you like chains. "Caleb…" you began, but he cut you off.

"No," he said sharply, his bionic fingers brushing against the back of your neck. "You don’t get it. If someone hurt you—no, if they tried to take you from me—I’d bury the world if it meant keeping you safe."

A shiver coursed through you at the steel in his voice, the unspoken promise in his words. His lips pressed into a thin line as he searched your face, looking for a flicker of understanding—or perhaps forgiveness.

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks, and your voice broke as you asked, "But what about you, Caleb? What about the pain you carry? The things they did to you?" Your hand hesitated before resting on his bionic arm. "You can’t shoulder everything alone. You shouldn’t have to."

His gaze softened for a moment, the harsh edges of his demeanor cracking under the weight of your plea. "I don’t care about the pain, it doesn't even hurt anymore," he admitted, his voice low. "I’d endure it a thousand times over if it meant you’d never feel an ounce of it."

"But I feel it anyway," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you like this, it's like they tore everything from me too."

Caleb’s breath hitched, his grip faltering for the first time. His forehead pressed against yours.

"I know pip-squeak, but I’m not going anywhere," he said finally, his voice a raw promise. "Never again. Even if I have to take you far away from this world, you’ll never lose me. Do you understand?"

The tears in your eyes blurred Caleb’s face as he held you tightly, the cold press of his bionic arm against your back a constant reminder of the lengths he had gone to. But as the emotions churned within you, they pulled loose a memory, vivid and sharp from one of your nights in Skyhaven after your reunion.

The rain had fallen in heavy sheets that night, soaking the park. You sat there, drenched despite your jacket, while Caleb loomed over you, holding an umbrella that shielded you both from the downpour. His presence was as overbearing as it was comforting, and the tension between you had been as thick as the storm clouds above.

"How long do you plan to lock me up this time?" you had asked, your voice sharp with frustration and resignation. "A month? A year? Or forever?"

Caleb didn’t flinch at the accusation, his expression calm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper—possessiveness, maybe even desperation. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, the rain hammering on the umbrella above.

"If every problem pulls me further away from you," he said quietly, his voice as steady as the storm around you, "then I’ll spend a lifetime searching for the answers."

You had stared at him, a mixture of anger and confusion twisting in your chest. "But until that final moment," he continued, his voice softening, "we’ll always be together."

His words had left you bristling, torn between disbelief and the undeniable sincerity in his tone. You’d wanted to push back, to defy the invisible chains he always seemed to wrap around you. "What if my friends and colleagues from the Association come looking for me?" you demanded, testing the limits of his resolve.

He laughed, the sound low and quiet, yet it sent a chill down your spine. His eyes had glinted with something unsettling, a mix of amusement and absolute certainty. "In that case," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "I’ll hold a funeral they can attend. So they’ll think you’re gone forever."

Before you could respond, he had gently extended his hand to you, palm up, waiting for you to take it. The rain fell harder around you, but beneath the umbrella, there was an unsettling kind of stillness. Hesitantly, you had reached out, your fingers brushing against his, and the tension in his shoulders had eased the moment you accepted his touch.

Now, standing here in this room with his arms wrapped tightly around you, the memory struck you like a bolt of lightning. You realized that Caleb had always been this way—possessive, protective, willing to go to unimaginable lengths to keep you safe. Even when you were children, when the world felt so much smaller, he had been the same. You remembered the time he locked you in the attic of your grandmother’s house to protect you from the neighborhood bullies.

It was in his nature—this fierce, unwavering obsession with keeping you close, even when it hurt you both. The realization was a heavy one, bittersweet in its clarity. Despite it all, Caleb hadn’t truly changed at all. He was still the boy you grew up with, who would do anything to shield you from harm, even if it meant breaking you to keep you safe.

Caleb’s arms tightened around you, bringing you back from your reverie, his embrace almost desperate as if holding you harder might stop the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you didn’t speak. The silence stretched, heavy and palpable, and for the first time, Caleb’s confidence seemed to waver.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with unease. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his intense gaze searching your face. “You’re… too quiet. Did I say something that—”

You didn’t let him finish. Acting on impulse, you reached up, your hands trembling slightly as you cupped his face. His words died in his throat as your lips pressed against his, soft but firm, silencing his uncertainty.

For a moment, Caleb froze, his breath catching as if he couldn’t quite process what was happening. Then, his right arm shifted slightly, careful not to press too hard against you, while his other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. The kiss deepened, his initial shock giving way to something raw and unspoken.

“Why did you...” he began as he pulled away slightly, his voice a whisper, but he didn’t finish the question. He didn’t need to. The answer was in the way you looked at him, your eyes still shimmering with tears.

“You’re here, alive.” you murmured, your voice unsteady. “I can't lose you again and regret not doing that sooner."

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, but the unease didn’t fully leave his eyes. “You’ll never lose me,” he said once again, his grip tightening as if to emphasize the point. “Not now, not ever. I won’t let it happen.”

You nodded and leaned in to kiss him again, but he frowned, his jaw hard. You paused, "What is it?"

Caleb’s gaze burned into yours, his resolve visibly trembling as if your kiss moments ago had shattered something fragile inside him. His grip tightened, anchoring you against him, while he cradled your face with a tenderness that stood at odds with the intensity in his eyes.

“Do you even realize,” he whispered, his voice low and uneven, “what you’re doing to me?”

You barely had a chance to respond before he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more desperate than before, as if he needed it, needed you, to steady the chaos inside him. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you in place, making escape an impossibility—not that you wanted to.

“You don’t get it,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his grip on you tightened. “I'll never let you go. Not again. Not ever. Not after this.” His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever it costs.”

His words were suffocating, wrapping around you like a second skin. You could see it—how deeply the thought of losing you terrified him, how far he was willing to go to keep you with him, even if it meant crossing every line.

“Caleb...” you murmured, your voice barely audible. But he silenced you with another kiss, softer this time but no less intense, as if trying to convince himself that you were still there, finally his, and no force in the world could take you away.

When he pulled back, his gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “I can't hold myself back,” he rasped, his voice trembling with conviction. "Not anymore."

“I’ve tried,” he continued, his voice raw and unsteady. “When we were younger... I’ve tried to give you space, to let you breathe, but with every second you were away from me, I felt like the world took it as a chance and ripped you away from me.”

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shallow. “You’re all I have left. Do you understand that? If I lose you... there won’t be anything left of me.”

The intensity in his words sent a shiver through you, a mixture of fear and something far more complicated swirling in your chest. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.

“You’re mine,” he said, the possessiveness in his tone leaving no room for doubt. “No one else’s. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

Caleb’s gaze darkened, his restraint visibly unraveling as the tension between you swelled to its breaking point. Without warning, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. His grip on you was firm, almost possessive, his bionic arm pulling you impossibly closer while his other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head.

His lips trailed away from yours, brushing down to the curve of your jaw and then to your neck, the sensation sending shivers to coarse through your entire body. His breath was warm against your skin, each touch of his lips a mix of desperation and barely-contained need. For a moment, it felt like he might lose himself entirely, his control slipping with every passing second.

But just as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, he froze. His arms are still around you, not quite sure if he wanted to pull you closer or to push you away. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder, his breath heavy and uneven.

“I…” His voice was hoarse, trembling with the effort to hold himself back. “I need you to tell me if this is okay.” He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with a dangerous mix of longing and uncertainty. “If you want me to stop, say it now. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

His control was slipping, but he was still giving you the choice. You smiled softly. Oh, Caleb.

You reached up, your fingers trembling as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing across his cheek. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "I want this... I want you."

A quiet, broken sound escaped him, like a weight had been lifted from his chest, and before you could say another word, he leaned in again, this time more urgently, his lips claiming yours with a desperate intensity. 

His lips moved down to your neck again, this time without hesitation, his kiss filled with a mixture of tenderness and something darker, more possessive. His breath was hot against your skin, and his control, once so fragile, seemed to finally break as he gave in to the overwhelming need to have you.

Caleb lifted you up by the waist, placing you gently on the narrow bed, his bionic arm carefully maneuvering you onto your back while his warm hand slid up the curve of your side.

You felt his gaze on you, dark with hunger and unbridled with lust. It wasn’t just the way his eyes lingered—it was the sheer intensity of it, as though you were his axis, the very thing that tethered his sanity that's currently on the brink of snapping. It sent a shiver down your spine, your body betraying you with a tremor you couldn’t suppress.

"I've always wanted to mark you, you know." he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "To leave something on you that everyone would see."

Leaning in, he began trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the slender column of your neck. His lips brushed over your racing pulse before he latched onto your throat, sucking and nipping until he left a vivid hickey blooming across your flesh.

As if satisfied by his work, he hummed, the sound reverberating through your skin. "Now, I can leave as many as I want."

Pulling back, he pressed a quick kiss on your jaw as his hands reached beneath your shirt, slipping past the material to meet the soft swell of your breasts covered by your bra.

You trembled, the cold metal of his right arm harsh against the warmth of your skin. Suddenly, his touch retreated as if seared, hyper aware of every reaction you've been making.

He asked, his voice low. "Are you alright?" Hesitant, he reached out with his right arm only to pull back and reach out with his left hand instead. He cradled your jaw, and you could feel the tremor of his fingers against your skin.

You covered his hand with your own, giving it a gentle squeeze as you gazed up at him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, Caleb," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I haven't done this before..."

Your words seemed to reassure the storm brewing within him, a desperate hunger that couldn't be sated. He crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a fervor that stole your breath away. His hands kneaded your breasts roughly through your shirt, his bionic fingers leaving faint indents on your skin as he groped and squeezed.

"It's alright, baby. I'll take care of you." he muttered in between.

He tore his mouth from yours, his breathing ragged as he stared down at you with wild, almost feral eyes. "You drive me crazy," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "I can't... I need..."

He couldn't seem to find the words, his mind too consumed with lust to form a coherent thought. Instead, he acted on instinct, his body moving on its own accord as he ripped your shirt off, you couldn't be bothered to react, your mind hazy. Your bra followed soon after, the flimsy material no match for his desperation.

You gasped as the cool air hit your bare skin, your nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. He groaned, before whispering to himself, "I can't believe you're real."

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but as he drank in the sight of you, you could see the way his eyes glinted with a primal hunger that sent a bolt of electricity straight to your skin.

"Caleb," you breathed, your voice heavy with want. "Please..."

Please what? You weren't sure, but you knew that you needed him. Needed to feel him, skin to skin, heart to heart. You needed him as much as he needed you.

He didn't need to be told twice, Caleb lowered his head, his mouth latching onto one of your hardened nipples. He suckled greedily, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud as his metal hand pinched and rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger.

Your back arched as you cried out, your fingers tangled in his hair. "Caleb—"

He lavished your breasts with attention, alternating between licks, nips and bites until your skin was flushed and aching with need. He looked up, his hot mouth still wrapped around one of your nipples, "Hmmm?" he hummed, his eyes dazed.

"P-Please... I need—"

His hips rocked against yours, stopping your train of thought, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing deliciously against your core. The layers of clothing separated you still, but you could feel the heat of him.

A low, deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your sensitive skin. "Please, what?" he murmured, his voice a sinful purr as he nuzzled into valley between your breasts. "Come on, baby. Tell me what you need..."

You shook your head, heat creeping up your cheeks. "You're so—annoying. Y-You know what I want..."

Gently, he lifted your waist to swiftly pull your pants off, you barely got the chance to register the action, only to feel the cold air as it enveloped your bare legs.

As if sensing your surprise, you felt him smile against your skin before inching down. He placed a single, open-mouthed kiss on your navel before trailing his lips lower, his breath hot and heavy against your aching core. Your hips jerked, a needy mewl escaping your lips as you felt the first brush of his tongue against your clothed sex. He licked a slow, deliberate stripe over your folds, the damp fabric of your panties the only barrier between his mouth and your dripping flesh.

A low groan resonated from deep within his chest as he tasted you, the flavor of your arousal seeping through the thin material. “Fuck, baby…” he growled, his voice muffled against your sex. “I dreamed of this so many times, I can’t believe I’m finally tasting you for real..”

You closed your eyes, shuddering because of his words. Caleb had always been teasing and confident, but hearing him say those words when everything had been innocent and playful between the two of you ever since made your stomach clench.

Slowly, he peeled your panties off, tossing them carelessly to the side. Exposed and bare, he could see your glistening folds, swollen and practically weeping with need. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his tone devoid of teasing or malice—just an honest observation, quiet and unfiltered. 

You shivered. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, flicked back to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your heart skip. There was no judgment, no amusement—just an unwavering focus that left you feeling raw and exposed.

He reached forward with his left hand, his thumb pressing against the seam of your folds, and you felt the slick coating his digit as he swiped up, and there he started to circle your clit with heavy pressure.

"Fuck—" you whined, the foreign pleasure making you throw your head back.

Caleb chuckled, purring, "There, there...."

You could practically feel him smirking without even having to look at him and you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug off his face. But you'd do it another time, now you'd let him take his time with you.

Leaning down, Caleb left open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, his tongue a warm, wet brand against your sensitive skin.

"Spread out like a feast, just for me," he murmured, his voice a low, reverent rumble. He breathed hotly against your dripping slit, feeling your body jerk in anticipation. Slowly, teasingly, he dragged the flat of his tongue along your folds, a long, languid lick that had your hips bucking.

"Caleb..." you breathed, your body starting to squirm.

"Stay still." he ordered, his voice muffled.

You peered down and saw how tightly his hands gripped your thighs, you're sure he'd leave a bruise. He was holding you open, keeping you exposed to his ravenous mouth.

You felt his lips seal around your entrance as he sucked, his tongue pushed inside, delving deep, the slick muscle stroking your velvety walls with unhurried, sensual glides. Then, his lips found your clit once more, wrapping around the throbbing bud as he suckled gently, his tongue flicking against it with maddening slowness. You could practically feel it pulsing against his mouth, the evidence of your growing arousal impossible to ignore. He lapped at it, circled it, teased it mercilessly until it was swollen and straining.

You wanted more. Needed more.

You reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging almost painfully as you ground your hips against his face, desperate for some much-needed friction. But he held you still, his strong hands gripping your thighs, keeping you immobile.

Each pass of his tongue sent jolts of electricity zipping up your spine, your body arching and writhing in a futile attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure.

As you teetered on the brink, he pulled back, his chin glistening with your juices. Before you could voice your protest, he circled your entrance teasingly, the pad of his metal thumb tracing the swollen rim, dipping inside just barely before retreating again. Each brush against your sensitive flesh drew a breathy moan from your lips, your hips undulating helplessly, chasing his touch.

"I want to see you wrapped around my metal fingers..." he groaned, his voice a low, approving rumble. He eased a single finger inside your fluttering channel, the cool metal a delicious contrast to your scorching heat. Slowly, almost torturously, he pushed it deeper, inch by excruciating inch, until he was buried to the knuckle. He paused there, letting you adjust to the intrusion, feeling your silky walls clench around the digit.

With agonizing slowness, he began to move, pumping his finger in and out of your dripping sex. Each drag against your walls, each curl of his knuckle against that special spot deep inside, dragged a broken moan from your throat. He was relentless, his pace unhurried, determined to take you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but a writhing, wanton mess beneath him.

"Y-you're so tight," Caleb grunted, his finger pumping faster, harder, plunging into your soaked heat. "I love how you grip me like this." His words were punctuated by the lewd squelches of your arousal, your walls clenching desperately around the invading digit.

A second finger joined the first, stretching you wider, filling you fuller. He pumped them in tandem, in deep, rolling thrusts that had your back arching and your toes curling against the sheets. All the while, his thumb circled your clit, the rough pad rubbing against the sensitive bundle of nerves until it throbbed and pulsed with need.

"Ohh...!" you cried out as he curled his fingers just right, brushing against that special spot deep inside.

He groaned in approval, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating deliciously against your sensitive flesh. "That's it, baby... let me hear you," he encouraged, his voice a low, sinful purr.

"Caleb... hah... I can't... I'm close..." you gasped, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

Caleb pulled back, he gazed up at you with hooded eyes. "Not yet, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, authoritative rumble. "I want you to come on my cock, nowhere else."

He sat back on his knees, his hands gripping your hips as he tugged your body towards him, positioning you at the edge of the bed. With one swift, powerful movement, he tore off his pants. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and with a swift, impatient tug, he shucked them off, freeing his straining cock.

It bobbed before you, long and thick and so hard it curved slightly towards his stomach. The broad head was an angry red, the skin pulled taut and flushed, the slit in the tip dripping with the evidence of his arousal. Your mouth watered at the sight, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you imagined how he would finally feel inside you.

Caleb gripped himself, his left hand wrapping around the thick shaft, stroking it slowly, deliberately. "You want this, don't you, pip-squeak?" he growled, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance, the tip catching on your swollen, slick folds. "You want me to fill this greedy little pussy until you're stretched wide and all mine?"

He rolled his hips, rubbing the underside of his shaft against your clit, the textured skin catching on the sensitive bundle of nerves until your vision nearly whited out from the intensity of it. Your hands flew to his shoulders, your nails digging into the hard muscle as you arched into him, your body crying out for more.

"Please, Caleb," you whimpered, your voice thin and reedy with need. "I want... I need..."

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low, commanding bark. "Tell me what you need, baby. Beg me for it."

Almost desperately, he added, "Please... please..."

Your stomach ached as he pressed harder, the head of his cock pushing insistently against your entrance, the crown popping inside your slick heat, stretching you around his girth. The sensation was exquisite, the promise of what was to come making your toes curl and your thighs tremble.

"I need your cock," you gasped out, your voice raw and desperate. "Please, Caleb... I need you inside me."

A dark, wicked grin split his face, his eyes glinting with a feral, hungry light. "That's my girl," he praised, his voice a low, sinful purr.

He leaned in, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your jaw, he whispered, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until all you can feel is me, deep inside of you."

With that, he surged forward, the thick head of his cock splitting you open, sinking into your welcoming heat with a low groan that rumbled through his chest. Your back arched, your nails digging into his shoulders as you took him inside, your velvety walls stretching deliciously around his invading length. He didn't stop until he was buried to the hilt, his heavy balls nestled against your ass, his cock pulsing deep inside your core.

You gasped, "Oh..." The unfamiliar stretch made your thighs tremble.

Caleb paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the feeling of being so utterly filled, so completely stretched around his thick cock. He peppered your face with soft kisses, murmuring words of praise and encouragement against your skin.

"You feel incredible," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and restraint. "So tight and hot and perfect around me."

The uncomfortable stretch didn’t last long, your body slowly adjusting as the tension turned into something else entirely. The yearning grew, your thoughts clouded by need. Every second of stillness felt unbearable, the ache for him to move consuming you.

Hurriedly, you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation, “You can move now���”

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to move. His hips pulled back, the drag of his length against your walls sent sparks of sensation crackling through your nerve endings. And then he pushed forward again, harder this time, his length plundering your depths with a newfound urgency.

A broken moan tumbled from your lips as he set a steady rhythm, each powerful thrust driving the breath from your lungs and stoking the heat building in your core. The pain began to recede, replaced by a pleasure so intense it bordered on overwhelming.

"Hah... C-Caleb-!"

"That's it, baby. You're taking me so well..."

Caleb could feel your body starting to relax, could feel your hips beginning to move in tandem with his. Emboldened, he increased his pace, his thrusts growing harder, more insistent as he chased his own release. The obscene slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, punctuated by your needy moans and his grunts of exertion.

"Do you feel how big I am, pip-squeak?" he purred, flexing his hips to emphasize his point. "I'm so deep inside this sweet little pussy. Filling you up in a way no one else will ever be able to."

His hand slid down your body, your skin flushed and heated beneath his touch. He cupped your mound, his fingers brushing against where you were joined, feeling the way your lips stretched obscenely around his girth.

"I love seeing your tight little cunt so full," Caleb growled, his eyes glittering with a predatory light. "It's like this hungry little hole was made just for my cock."

"C-Caleb....!" you whined, lips parted open. His words made your skin hot and your brain go hay wire.

You could feel every rigid inch of him as he hilted inside you, his heavy balls nestling against your bottom. Your body had never felt so full, so deliciously stuffed. It was almost too much, the stretch pushing you to your limits, until you swore you could feel him in your throat.

He let out a choked groan, his breath hitching as he clung to the moment. "W-Wait," he stammered, his voice thick with need, "I need to feel more of you..."

Your body trembled under the weight of his words, a soft, helpless mewl escaping your lips. "M-More..?" you echoed, your voice barely audible, laced with vulnerability and the same yearning that reflected in his gaze.

Caleb pressed a wet kiss on your cheek and gripped your thighs, his large hands easily encircling your slender legs as he pushed them up and back, folding you nearly in half. He raised them high, draping them over his broad, muscular shoulders until your knees were pressed against your chest and your ankles crossed behind his neck.

Caleb leaned down, bracing his elbows on either side of your head as he pistoned in and out of your dripping sex. His hips slammed against yours, the new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each driving thrust.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. You could taste yourself on him, the flavor of your arousal lingering on his lips and tongue as he explored your mouth. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands tightly as you kissed him back with a fervor that matched his own.

"That's it, baby," he panted against your lips, his voice rough and urgent. "Take my cock. Fuck, you're so deep like this. I can feel every inch of this tight little cunt squeezing me."

Caleb's mouth trailed hungry kisses along the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. He latched onto your shoulder, biting down until you cried out, your fingers scrabbling at his back. The sharp sting of his teeth piercing your flesh pushed you closer to the edge, your pleasure spiked with a hint of pain. Your sex rippled around him, the velvet walls squeezing his pistoning length as he fucked you with wild abandon.

"Caleb!" you keened, your head thrown back, your body bowing off the bed. "I'm going to... I'm going to come!"

"That's it, baby. Come for me," he urged, his hips slapping against yours with renewed fervor. 

Your world exploded into a million pieces as your orgasm crashed over you, your sex clamping down around him like a vice. You cried out, seeing white. Your nails raked down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you clung to him, anchored against the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm.

But even as you trembled and shuddered through the aftershocks, Caleb didn't stop. He continued to pound into you, his length plundering your walls as he chased his own release, the wet squelching sounds of your spasming cunt being fucked senseless echoing the walls. Your body knew the sensation was almost too much to bear, your sensitive flesh crying out for respite as he drove into you again and again.

"I can't... it's too much..." you whimpered, your voice thin and reedy as your trembling hands pushed weakly against his chest, though you lacked the strength to follow through.

"Shh, I've got you," Caleb murmured, his voice a mix of strained need and steadfast reassurance. He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours as his movements slowed slightly, yet his intensity didn’t waver. "I need to fill you up, baby," he whispered, his tone low and fervent. "I just need to... let me take care of you."

You whined softly, tears brimming in your eyes as the intensity of it all overwhelmed you, your toes curling. Caleb’s gaze softened, though the desperation lingering in his expression didn’t waver. He leaned in, brushing his lips tenderly against your damp cheeks, kissing your tears away as if to soothe the overwhelming sensations within you.

"I know it’s too much, b-baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of huskiness and gentle coaxing. "Just take it for me, yeah? You're doing so good for me..."

His hips slammed against yours, the rhythm growing almost sloppy now, driven by sheer desperation, yet each movement was still hard and fast, claiming you in every way. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips trailing wet, possessive kisses along your jawline.

"You’re mine," he murmured, the words rough and trembling with unrestrained emotion. His voice dipped lower, almost a growl, as he repeated with fervent intensity, "Just mine. Finally mine."

You closed your eyes, your heart pounding as you wrapped your arms around his nape, pulling him closer, as if anchoring yourself to him. Your voice trembled, raw with emotion, as you whispered hoarsely, "I'm yours..."

The words seemed to shatter something within Caleb, unraveling the last threads of his restraint. Just hearing you say you were his was enough to push him to the brink, his entire being consumed by the overwhelming need to claim you.

"Fuck, I'm coming," he grunted, his hips slamming against yours one last time. "Here it comes, baby. Take it all."

You felt a sudden warmth spread through you as Caleb reached his peak, his release surging inside you in long, pulsing waves that left you breathless. The intimacy of the moment consumed you, your body trembling against his as you held onto him, feeling every shudder that rippled through his frame.

Caleb kissed you again, more gently this time, before he carefully lowered your legs from his shoulders, easing them down to rest on the mattress. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment you shared. He collapsed beside you, catching himself on his elbows to keep from resting his weight on you accidentally.

The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of your breathing, mingling with Caleb’s. The air was warm, the atmosphere tender, as the fiery passion that had consumed you both finally ebbed into a calm serenity. His bionic arm rested protectively against your waist, his other hand brushing gentle circles along your shoulder as he held you close, your bodies tangled together.

“You okay?” Caleb’s voice was a low murmur, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. There was a vulnerability in his tone that made your heart ache.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your voice tired but content. “What about you?”

He let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through you. “I should be asking you that, pip-squeak.” he replied, pressing a lingering kiss to your hair. “But... yeah. I’m good. Better than good.”

There was a pause, and then his bionic fingers moved, carefully tracing patterns against your skin. The coolness of the metal felt strangely soothing, a contrast to the warmth of his body. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, the edge of worry creeping into his voice.

You tilted your head to look at him, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me,” you reassured him softly, meeting his eyes. “Not even for a second.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders easing as he pulled you even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin. “Good,” he said, the word more to himself than to you. “Because I’d never forgive myself if I did.”

For a while, the two of you simply stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth. Caleb’s fingers absently played with your hair, his touch grounding and soothing. He whispered small things now and then—how much he loved you, how he’d never let anything hurt you, how you were his whole world. You answered with quiet hums, your heart swelling with every word.

As exhaustion finally began to tug at you, you felt him shift, “Sleep,” he murmured, his voice a soft command. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 if you want to check out more of my writings, head on to here — masterlist.

[syluses]

big girls dont cry QNA

i know you guys have lots of curiosities about this fic lolll so i’ll try to answer some of the questions i received (∗ᵕ̴᷄◡ᵕ̴᷅∗) 💕 if u still have some, just shoot me an ask!! :] also im really bad at explaining so i apologize 🤦🏻‍♀️ i have the plot nailed in my head but its tricky to articulate it in a clear, linear way for yall considering all the little nuances i added lol. i’ll try my best tho hehe :,)

Okay so there’s a whole ‘nother plot that exists in the background of this fic- which was super fun for me to write, but im sure from a reader standpoint it’s also kinda thrilling to try to connect the dots i left lol. thats why theres so many interpretations for this story (which i love!! i loved reading all yall’s theories)! 💕 BUT. that being said, the ‘canon’ goes like this:

SPOILERS BELOW read it first then come back! ( ⸍ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ɞ̴̶̷⸌ )

was caleb really dead?

No. Caleb staged his own death and then, similar to the main story homecoming wings, didnt tell mc :,) for his own reasons, for a time, he decides he’ll let her go on believing he’s truly gone…

why did he stage his death?

I dropped little crumbs of it in the fic, but it’s hinted that mc, on top of all her grief, feels a bit bitter over the whole shebang and also blames herself for it. hmm… why would that be? 🤔 well because their final moments together (or so she THOUGHT) were emotionally charged and volatile.

the foundation of their sibling relationship was growing weaker and weaker before the explosion. arguments are forming out of nowhere- things are becoming more tense and mc, for the life of her, can’t understand why her gege is always pulling her into a heated debate about safety, danger, blahblahblah, this that and the third, every time they interact. He’s being wildly unreasonable, which she knows, and protective- a trait that has snowballed as they entered their adulthood- but what she doesn’t know is the why behind it. she tells herself she just has a super protective older brother who views her as a little baby in need of his guidance- which isn’t entirely wrong… but she doesn’t see the full picture. His true feelings. All this tension eventually climbs to its peak. Caleb just gets worse and worse. He needs to do something before the world collapses on them both.

Now, in this au, he works at EVER, a somewhat shady but lucrative company- which dabbles in robotics amongst other things. I imagine they have abundant resources and wealth- and what with his promotions, it’s safe to say caleb is making a LOT. So, the delusional guy he is, he buys a big fancy suite with the idea in mind of two eventually living in it ;) but mc doesn’t want to- she has her own life in linkon!! She wants to spread her wings and separate from the nest anyway. Partly to start her own life; partly to prove to her gege that she can take care of herself. The argument that unfolds over this is the last they have before the big tragic explosion 😭 caleb, putting on a show with his beaten puppy eyes, leaves and then that’s the last time she sees him.

Caleb meticulously plans his ‘death’ out (with some help from his wingman ofc) and then eventually the robot is introduced to mc. It serves as a trojan horse. He’ll finally conquer her heart with it and win full autonomy over her. THIS IS HIS MAIN GOAL WITH THE ROBOT. WHY HE EVEN DOES ANY OF THIS TO BEGIN WITH.

Caleb gets to spy on mc with it and also slowly reshape her to accept his feelings; his ‘death’ has left her in a fragile state of mourning and he knows, after she warms up a bit to not-Caleb, he can more or less get away with anything- bc she will claw for whatever’s left of her family member. He can make her finally reciprocate and understand him— whether that be his feelings or fear or love. He tried to be patient, to be good, but obviously he had to travel a new route. He’s thinking of her 24/7. He’s obsessive, longing, protective, you name it- and all of this just worsens the more she denies him. When push comes to shove… well, caleb will do whatever it takes to win her :] He knows it’s unconventional and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him too- monitoring his endearingly stubborn, but sweet meimei and the shattered pieces he left of her through his android’s eyes— but it’s all temporary, and he truly believes it’s for the better.

did gideon know?

Yes, Gideon knew all along. He’s Caleb’s best buddy after all. To be matter of fact- Gideon didn’t just know, he quite literally ‘herded’ mc into the lion’s den in a way. Mc knew vaguely of their work at EVER, but not too much; so Gideon was the one who shined that light on their robotics and really introduced her to the concept of not-Caleb. Now, i wouldnt say Gideon is exactly comfortable with his involvement, but he actually really does care for mc and thinks she needs that help- as dubious as the means are. Anyway, it’s almost impossible to shut out all of his buddy’s demands: the brunet is nothing if not insistent on getting what he wants. In his own whacky way, Gideon thinks what he did- playing into Caleb’s plan- was for the better as well. I mean, Mc clearly wasnt doing good before not-Caleb came along,… but with the few visits he managed before the android got a little too stingy and sent him off, Gideon actually managed to catch a smile or two from her! So clearly he did the right thing 👀 not to mention… the real caleb seems very pleased with the progress, too. besides- the whole robot situation is temporary anyway :] She’ll be reuniting with the beloved gege she misses so much sooner rather than later.

how accurate was not-caleb?

His programming is like 100% accurate. Mc, for a mix of both naiveity and delusion, thinks not-Caleb is flawed when he starts to show signs of amorous/romantic feelings for her. Really, though, after she tells him to stay the night with her (innocently; and after years of having not shared the same childhood twin bed), it triggers a part of his ‘brain’ that undoes all real caleb’s self restraint thus far :] If the same exact situation happened with the real caleb, his reaction would’ve more or less been the same. Homeboy can only keep his feelings in check for so long

who programmed not-caleb?

Real Caleb

how is mc pregnant?

Because the robot’s creator wanted to add his own special touch to his work if you know what i mean :) yeah he’s a freak like that. Dont think he WOULDNT install in his robot the ability to indirectly knock his ‘meimei’ up. I will say though, that while caleb wants to get mc pregnant, its not fully bc he wants to start a family- at least not right away- but because he wants to emotionally and legally trap her with him. Besides monitoring her/wearing down her walls while she thought he was ‘dead’, this was actually one of caleb’s biggest goals with sending not-caleb into her home.

is not-caleb self-aware?

Yes

what’s real caleb been doing all this time?

Basically climbing the ranks of EVER from his lil perch somewhere in skyhaven. all the while, of course, spying on mc like a hawk. Biding his time & waiting for the right moment when she’s at her weakest, most codependent state to replace his carbon copy :)

was caleb controlling his robot?

No. But he essentially created its whole program. And there are cameras inside its eyes in which he watches mc from :) and cant help but snap pics with sometimes: she’s just so pretty— and endlessly sexy when he finally, in a vicarious way, gets to lie her back and make love to her <3

what is real caleb’s motive/ultimate goal?

1. to control/protect/‘tame’ mc through the robot; get her to see things from his point of view (which means realizing she belongs with him- where it’s safe and he can protect & love her)

2. to knock her up (hence the. ahem. reproductive abilities of the robot) so that he can trap her with a baby on top of all the other emotional strings he’s hogtied her with.

does gideon want mc too?

the question is not would gideon smash her. the question is would caleb LET him…. 👀

also, below i just attached a screenie from some of the notes i took. theyre ofc a little disjointed but i think it might clarify things too :] im so bad at answering questions esp for a plot this spiraling but i really tried my best guys my brain is tired forgive me :,)

[golden-coven]

Philip set Evelyn’s skirt on fire

But Evelyn didn’t seem to mind though, suspicious 🤨

Caleb definitely did mind though 💀

[xplicitviewz]

Thinking about Sylus, my beloved dragon …

You have him tied up to a chair, naked, his tip leaking pre while you rub yourself dreadfully slowly to the beat of his favorite classical music playing on his record. Your legs spread wide as you arched your back against the huge bed, your pussy messy with your juices from your fingers, moaning his name. Sylus calls himself a patient man, patient enough at least to let you keep him tied up for almost 2 hours. Your nipples stare him dead in the face as your breast bounces from the movement of your hips jerking, his dick twitching as he watches you edge yourself and him at this point. His abs tensed when the music picks up and you moves your fingers from your clit to your entrance, thrusting fast, moaning out louder. His hisses, jerking his hips, moaning when his tip hits his stomach.

His last straw? When you came whimpering his name hard as the music ended. He uses is evol to get out if his restraints and his hand grabs yours, slipping them in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your essence, as he guides his throbbing red tipped dick easily slips inside you. Groaning out loud finally feeling the warmth of your walls fluttering around him. He keeps your legs spread while he thrusts deeply in you slowly to the next music piece that starts playing. Making sweet love to you all night long.

Click here for more

[salemrph]

Have seen the trailer at least 5 times by now and yeahhh...

[cheri-cheri]

25 Canon Facts about Caleb - Part 1

As someone with the memory of a goldfish and an insatiable thirst for Caleb content, I'm embarking on a mini project to collate facts about him based on in-game texts \( ´ ꒳ ` )/♡ Let's appreciate our precious apple boy together!

✧ Part 2 ll Part 3 ll Part 4

When Caleb was still in the Deepspace Aviation Administration, he was so busy that he would often take rain checks on plans to meet up with MC and Grandma Josephine. [Story Text - Promise]

Caleb has called MC "Commander". [Story - Promise]

After The Great Explosion® and before they reunited, MC sent messages to Caleb's phone. MC claims that she only sent such messages "once or twice" and that they were along the lines of "Caleb is a dummy". However, he did not see those messages as he switched devices. [Story - Contact]

Caleb jokingly claimed that he has a Farspace Fleet Colonel account with the handle @FleetColonel. [Story - Contact]

Caleb promised that he would not miss a single message from MC and that this promise would be valid for 100 years. [Story - Contact]

Caleb wears the necklace that MC got for him daily. When he has to take it off during training or missions where metal accessories are not allowed) he keeps it in his pocket or somewhere safe. He has a special jewellery box for the necklace but rarely uses it. [Daily - Exclusive Necklace]

He sees the necklace as a "lucky charm". He takes it to the jeweler's for cleaning sometimes to prevent it from tarnishing. [Daily - Exclusive Necklace]

The hair dryer in Caleb's house had a burnt smell to it but he didn't replace it until MC insisted on getting a new one due to safety concerns. Caleb asked MC to pick one out for him. [Daily - Hair Dryer]

Pre-explosion Caleb (LOL) would often dry MC's hair with a hair dryer to prevent her from getting headaches and to get her to rely on him a little more. [Daily - Hair Dryer]

When Caleb and MC were kids, their hair dryer was loud and they would have to shout to hear each other over the noise. MC would use the noise from the hair dryer as an excuse to run away. [Daily - Hair Dryer]

Caleb has called MC his "little time-telling bird". [Daily - Timekeeper Bird]

Caleb and MC have an "old secret spot" that they visit to have a breather. [Daily - Timekeeper Bird]

MC styled Caleb's hair for the New Year and a curling iron was involved. MC practiced on a few dolls beforehand. [Event - New Year Style]

MC and Caleb used to watch movies together at the theatre near their old neighbourhood. Back then, MC applied for the membership card using Caleb's information and would ask him to keep her updated on promotions. [Daily - Cinema Closure]

After The Great Explosion®, MC visited the theatre a few more times and the owner asked about Caleb every time. She would respond by saying that he was away on a trip and would return soon. She eventually stopped visiting because she didn't have anyone to discuss movies with. The theatre is currently closed for renovations and will re-open next year. [Daily - Cinema Closure]

Caleb feels that watching movies alone isn't fun since MC isn't around. A sci-fi series that they love had a new movie and they watched it together in the theatre near Linkon Central Park. [Daily - Cinema Closure]

Caleb picked out a balloon for MC when he was at the mall in Skyhaven (and towered over everyone else in the queue). Depending on the player's choice, he got MC a little apple balloon, a sunflower balloon with a bright smile, a balloon puppy flying a plane or a balloon puppy on roller skates. He offered to meet her in Linkon within the next few days to do a "balloon handover ceremony" or tie the balloon to her doorknob. [Daily - Balloon]

When they were younger, Caleb and MC once had summer vacation homework which required them to keep a growth diary of grape ivy vines. They would argue about what shape the leaves were. They agreed to take turns watering the grape ivy - MC had odd days and Caleb had even days. Caleb realised afterwards that grape ivy didn't require a lot of watering and pretended to forget to water the grape ivy to prevent dampening MC's spirits. MC did not let Caleb read her essay. The ending of Caleb's essay reads, "Out of breath, MC and I stood there looking at the vine-covered wall. We laughed." [Daily - Climbing Ivy]

Caleb and MC used to collect fallen leaves. If there were leaves with similar shapes, Caleb and MC would each keep one. This habit has continued to the present. [Daily - Climbing Ivy]

When they were younger, MC would sneak fruit into his hood and he wouldn't notice till the end of the day. [Daily - Express Delivery]

While Caleb was on a mission, he sent MC an express air mail containing a samara fruit that he framed up as a keepsake for MC because she asked for a souvenir and he didn't want her to worry if his mission got delayed. [Daily - Express Delivery]

In an alternate version of the text, Caleb sent MC a pretty pebble (which looked like a gummy) and transdermal patches. He hinted that MC should take care of him once in a while. [Daily - Express Delivery]

In another version of the text, Caleb sent MC a book written in a foreign language with a feather of a titmouse in it. Caleb gave it to her as he thought the colour was pretty. [Daily - Express Delivery]

MC almost instantly realised that the reason why Caleb opted for the package to be delivered was because he's injured. [Daily - Express Delivery]

MC knows the code to Caleb's house. [Daily - Express Delivery]

❀ Masterlist

[oddussy420]

Just putting this out there Caleb is southern and thats not just my headcannon i have proof.

Tw mommy/daddy kink, breeding, overstimulation

Caleb is fucking you on your side. Hes hugging your leg while his cock is sloppily pumping in and out of you with wonton desperation. He just barely shifted his hips so the tip is hitting your g spot. He can tell from the way called out for him and how your cunt clamped down on his cock.

“F-fuuuuuck yea- is that it? Is daddy hittin mamas favorite spot?”

You cant even string together a sentence but your incoherent babble is all he needs to know that youre close

“Yea? Y’close mommy? Daddy can get ya there. C’mon ma. Please cum on my cock please please fuck pleaseeee? y’always look so goddamn beautiful. Please mama? Ill be so good for ya. I need it i need your cum so bad. Ill do anythinggggg ahhh- hmmmpleaseeeeemommyyy” he says it in that high pitch whiny tone that can only be a symptom of said desperation

You were already long gone and he wasnt too far behind. He rolled you over on your back and lifted both of your legs to be on his shoulders. “Look at me mama. Fuck open your eyes my sweet girl. Let me see you.” You try your best to meet his demands but hes so close it only takes a flutter of your eyelids for him to absolutely breed you.

He is still in you for just a moment before you subtly shift bringing him back to reality. “Oh? You want more pip-squeak? I didnt know you were so insatiable. I guess thats just somethin else we have in common” his poor cock never even had the opportunity to get soft before he was slamming it back into you.

The more rounds yall go the more whiny, loud and vocal he gets. He sounds like you have him tied down as you overstimulate every part of his body, like you have all the control in the situation. If hes being honest its because you do. You are the one in complete control and you dont even know it. You have no idea how much power you hold over him. He would do anything you asked of him.

[mapsthewanderer]

At the library

Caleb: *taps table*

*MC ignores tapping, flips another page*

Caleb: *taps again, teasingly*

MC: *taps table aggressively*

Caleb: *smirks and taps table*

MC: *starts to tap table and slams hands down* CALEB YOU BIG DUM-DUM

[wolfbatspace]

Unexpected

This chapter was so damn cute I ate that shit up

Yoru was caught off guard

[volvolts]

saint seiya/owl house au an au that might go nowhere

luz is a runaway who became a saint, a warrior who wear armor called "cloth" that is based on the 88 constellations who serve their titan. luz has become the ophiuchus saint, the snake bearer. she tries to navigate this new world as it goes on a brink of a civil war with her new mentor aquila eda (who i have not drawn yet sorry) and king, a weird little kid that eda also found who really wants to be a saint

meanwhile a masked man is going around killing saints and destroying their cloth.

this is such a dumb but self indulgent au. i wish i could ramble about it more but i also think i need to draw at least some of the characters first in order for it to make sense

[cheriqube]

Fishsticks

My take on Rafayel's and MC first meeting as kids. Content: Mostly fluffy(?) Kind of angsty if you squint. Not canon compliant! Reader is AFAB, is referred to as 'girl'. No use of Y/N. 5.2K words

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It wouldn’t be long before Rafayel turned into a glorified fish stick. Two, maybe three hours tops? Then the ocean’s last great deity would be nothing more than a shriveled husk, stranded helplessly upon dry land like a dumb, oversized, tragically misplaced whale. No disrespect intended to whales, of course, he mused with a faint smirk, even now unable to resist a sardonic thought.

The young Lemurian’s mind churned as swiftly and chaotically as the muttered curses slipping through his parched lips. Every grain of sand felt viciously sharp, tiny shards of fiberglass embedding themselves deeper into his scales the drier they became, scraping mercilessly into his gills and fins. Definitely not his preferred exit from existence, but admittedly, there was a grim sort of poetry in it.

Pure, twisted artistry. The Last Sea God Abandoned. Rafayel could already picture it vividly: his tragedy immortalized on canvas, paraded shamelessly in some grubby human gallery, patrons sipping champagne while greedily devouring his suffering.

After what felt like two grueling hours of stubborn defiance—twenty minutes in actual, painful reality—he finally allowed himself to collapse in exhausted resignation. But hey, give him some credit; he'd made at least some pathetic inch-by-inch progress toward salvation, hadn't he? This whole melodramatic spectacle was turning into a rather embarrassing performance.

Still, despite the hopeless theatrics, there remained an irritatingly persistent spark inside him. It was a reckless whisper confidently promising he'd make it back to the sea—because he had to. At least, that's the story he desperately clung to, repeating it like a mantra even as doubt stubbornly clawed at his thoughts.

Trapped somewhere between complete despair and detached indifference, Rafayel let his head sink back into the gritty warmth of the sand, his gaze reluctantly drifting upwards toward the glaring sun. It burned like an overexposed photograph, harsh and brutal against his vision. How did humans tolerate such relentless brightness? Beneath the waves, sunlight danced softly, fractured into glittering patterns, gently cascading through the currents in a mesmerizing ballet.

It painted everything in hues of liquid gold and shifting sapphire; a sight infinitely more enchanting than this merciless blaze. He much preferred that tranquil beauty to this cruel, blazing spotlight. Especially now, as he lay helpless beneath it, slowly roasting alive.

For the first time, Rafayel actually paused to take in his surroundings. Up until now, he’d been too consumed with the singular, burning need to get back to the ocean to bother looking around. But now, stranded and marinating in his own bad decisions, the reality set in—this beach was far too close to Linkon, a sprawling human city that hummed with noise and metal and artificial light.

His guardian had warned him, of course. Don’t get too close to the surface. Stay clear of the cities. They’ll ruin you. But did he listen? Naturally not. He was a god, after all. Listening to others felt… beneath him. Why take orders from subordinates when you’re supposed to be the one giving them?

Still, as he lay half-buried in the sand, salty skin cracking under the sun, he couldn’t help but admit, just this once, maybe his judgment hadn’t been so divine after all.

Rubble and discarded remnants of human life choked the shoreline, a grim demonstration of the tsunami’s wrath. Shattered wood, twisted metal, and forgotten plastic clung to the coast like scars, making each step a gamble. The sea churned a venomous gray, seething with fury, and the sand had turned the color of ash. Dark, heavy, solemn.

Rafayel could still feel the weight of the tsunami’s rage, echoing in the waves and soaked into the earth itself. Its sorrow hadn’t just passed through; it had seeped in, stained everything it touched. In a way, he understood it. Sometimes, he felt like that too. Wild and wounded, desperate to be heard.

Jagged rocks jutted from the water like ancient blades, defiant and raw, while scattered boulders created a fractured path that led nowhere but the deep, open sea. It was tragic, chaotic… and yet, there was beauty in its ruin. A haunting kind of beauty. The kind that made you stop and stare, even if it hurt.

With a deep breath, Rafayel finally let his eyes flutter shut, arms stretched wide across the sand like he was offering himself to the sun. Maybe, for the first and last time, he’d get a tan. Or maybe he’d just combust into ash like an overcooked scallop. Honestly? He had no clue. But now seemed like the perfect time to find out.

Just as the edges of sleep began to blur his thoughts, the oppressive heat of the sun suddenly faded. A reprieve? A benevolent cloud, perhaps, drifting in with divine timing, moved by the tragic sight of a young, too-beautiful-to-die sea god wilting under its gaze?

Curious, he cracked open one eye, half-expecting to see a majestic puff of white mercy above him. Instead, he was greeted by a small, wide-eyed human child peering down at him like he was some exotic beachside cryptid. He gasped—you gasped—then thunk!

In a flurry of startled motion, he sat bolt upright and slammed his forehead directly into yours. Both of you recoiled, groaning and clutching your heads in synchronized agony, as if the universe had decided you needed to suffer together.

You let out a dramatic “owwwww” as you stumbled back a few clumsy steps, clutching your forehead like it had been personally betrayed.

Rafayel snickered, wincing as he rubbed the sore spot between his eyes. “What was that for?!”

You blinked at him, still dazed, and jabbed a finger in his direction like a tiny, furious judge. “W–what? You hit me!”

The two of you stood there, frozen in mutual indignation and confusion, both flustered and vaguely starstruck. Rafayel had never seen a human child up close, his only references were the blurry surface images drifting through currents and warnings from his guardians.

And you? You’d certainly never come face-to-face with a mermaid—or, well, whatever he was. A mermaid boy? Mer-kid? Mer–child? You weren’t exactly sure what to call him. Up until about fifteen seconds ago, they were nothing more than bedtime stories and glittery cartoon nonsense.

But here he was. Breathing. Blinking. Possibly sunburnt. And very, very real.

You were the first to break the silence. “Are you… really a mermaid? Or is that, like… a costume or something?” Your gaze drifted down, wide-eyed, to the tail sprawled out behind him—an iridescent masterpiece of blues, greens, and glimmers of violet that shifted with the light like living stained glass.

Rafayel’s expression soured instantly. Offended. Deeply. The kind of offended only a divine being could muster. Being gawked at by a human was bad enough, but to be questioned like some beachside street performer in glitter and spandex? Unforgivable.

“I’m a mer-MAN, actually,” he snapped, his voice sharp with wounded pride. He crossed his arms in an exaggerated huff, the pout on his face somehow both regal and childish. “And no, it’s not a costume. What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

Then, with a theatrical flick of his tail that sent a spray of sand in your direction, he added, “Not that it matters. You need to get out of here. Before I make you leave.” It was a bluff, of course. An empty threat dressed in bravado, tossed out in hopes you’d take the hint and scurry off without getting curious. He wasn’t exactly in the best shape to be intimidating… but he could still pretend.

Not that Rafayel expected much from a human child. Especially not one that had the nerve to poke at him like some beached curiosity. His voice remained cold, edged with disdain. He didn’t trust humans. Didn’t like them. Didn’t want anything to do with their noisy, stinky, chaos-loving ways—

“I think your scales are beautiful.”

The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, completely bypassing his scowl and the thinly-veiled threat. You weren’t listening to his attitude… you were looking.

His scales had caught you in a spell. No, he had. You’d never seen anything like him before. He shimmered like the ocean trapped in a prism, a living tidepool of blues and greens, glinting purples and silvers, every movement catching the sun like a whispered secret. He reminded you of the fish you’d stared at through thick aquarium glass, or seen flicker across TV screens and glossy textbook pages.

He was a storm In starlight. A rainbow with teeth. A myth dragged straight out of the sea and dropped into your world.

The sudden shift left you uneasy, a quiet tension blooming in the spaces between heartbeats. Had you said something wrong? Surely, it was just a compliment. Nothing more, nothing less.

Rafayel was utterly disarmed, the bravado he'd worn like armor crumbling in an instant, replaced swiftly by a charmingly flustered vulnerability. Heat surged to his cheeks, blooming into a deep scarlet that stood out vividly against his normally composed demeanor. His mouth fell open slightly, poised to retort with some witty comeback or playful threat, but nothing came forth except a choked silence.

Anxiously, you shifted your weight from one bare foot to the other, relishing the comforting scratch of the warm sand beneath your toes. It was something to ground you amidst the awkwardness of the moment.

“You-you don’t even realize what you're saying,” Rafayel stammered, each word tumbling clumsily over the next as embarrassment overtook him completely. “Where I come from, if someone says they like your scales, it-it means something entirely different. It means that you genuinely... like them!” His voice trailed off into an awkward murmur, thick with confusion yet woven through with threads of cautious curiosity. His eyebrows knitted tightly, reflecting the storm of intrigue and bewilderment swirling within.

“Okay, so maybe I do like you,” you admitted casually, watching carefully for his reaction. “What d’ya have to say about that?”

A mischievous hum escaped your lips as you brought the sleeve of Caleb's oversized sweatshirt thoughtfully up to your chin, the soft fabric comforting and familiar. With exaggerated deliberation, you pretended to consider Rafayel's words, eyes sparkling with playful amusement at his evident discomfort.

The words achieved exactly what you'd intended. Rafayel froze completely, eyes widening in startled disbelief. Truthfully, there was sincerity beneath your playful facade; why shouldn't you like him? Rafayel was charming in an unconventional way, a bit sassy perhaps, but fascinatingly mysterious. Plus, he was literally a mermaid! That alone elevated him beyond ordinary.

Rafayel opened his mouth, then closed it again quickly, abandoning any attempt at speech as if words had suddenly vanished from his reach. His pulse thundered wildly in his chest, each heartbeat resonating loudly enough to drown out the quiet crash of the waves. It felt as if every nerve within him buzzed simultaneously, shaken and uncertain. He couldn't grasp why he was so deeply affected by you… your voice, your laughter, even your playful teasing. Why, despite your obvious humanity, did you feel so strangely familiar?

“You look like you could use some help,” you pointed out brightly, gesturing once again toward his glittering tail, partially submerged in the sandy shore, surrounded by disturbed grains that marked his fruitless attempts at escape. Pointing, it seemed, was rapidly becoming your new favorite pastime.

“No, no, no! Absolutely not—I don’t need your help—” Rafayel protested emphatically, his voice edging on frantic despite the stubborn set of his jaw.

Confidently, you stepped closer, moving gently but determinedly over the sand. Rafayel immediately released a startled, almost desperate yelp, freezing you mid-step. You paused, eyes flicking upward to his face, cautious curiosity mixing with genuine concern at his apparent distress.

“Yes, you do!” you chirped back defiantly, inching toward him without hesitation.

“No!” he insisted, backing away as much as he could in his stranded state. Yet despite the melodrama, Rafayel made no real attempt to repel you. “If you so much as lay a finger on me, I swear I’ll curse you—I know how! I'll cast curses that—”

But whatever wild threat he'd intended evaporated abruptly into the evening air as your warm, determined fingers clasped tightly around his trembling hands. Rafayel instantly fell silent, his eyes glassy and distant, lost somewhere far beyond the moment. It was as though your touch triggered a spell of its own, placing him in a delicate trance.

“I can’t carry you,” you sighed dramatically, bracing your feet against the soft, shifting sand. You tugged at the stubborn mermaid with every ounce of strength your small limbs could muster, gritting your teeth against the effort. “Ugh, you’re so heavy!”

The accusation snapped Rafayel instantly from his reverie, and a scowl replaced the bewildered expression that had softened his features only moments ago.

“Heavy?” he spluttered indignantly, his voice pitched with scandalized outrage. “Did you really just call me heavy? First, I never asked for your help, and now you’re implying I'm big—”

“Well…” you mused mischievously, dropping him suddenly and stepping back to dust off your hands in exaggerated indifference. The mer-child toppled onto the sand with an unceremonious thud, limbs sprawled and hair wild as he landed gracelessly like a sack of potatoes. “You're right, I don’t have to help you. Maybe I'll just say bye.”

“Wait-wait a minute! You're seriously going to abandon me here?!” Rafayel called after you, disbelief crackling sharply in his voice as you purposefully trudged away, your back facing him. Each step was slow, exaggerated, crafted purely for dramatic impact.

Rafayel’s eyes widened comically, panic surging through him as he scrambled upright. The water was so tantalizingly close—just a few agonizing feet away—he could practically feel the gentle lap of the waves beckoning him home.

“Yep,” you drawled lightly, enjoying the theatrics of your exit, until a quiet sniffle reached your ears, stopping you in your tracks. A small pang of guilt squeezed your heart, compelling you to whirl around anxiously.

Your eyes widened in instant remorse as you caught sight of Rafayel, now dramatically collapsed onto the sand, his face buried deep within his hands. His body shook gently, as though he were some tragic royal mourning a lost love on a theater stage. The effect was immediate—you fell entirely into his trap, your resolve shattered.

“Oh—no, no! I-I'm sorry! I was just joking!” You rushed back over, sliding onto your knees beside the crestfallen mer-child, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on his trembling back. Your heart twisted uneasily at the spectacle you'd inadvertently caused.

“You… you really would've left me here to die,” Rafayel whimpered softly, voice dramatically thick, muffled behind his crossed arms. “How cruel can one human be? I'm the last of my kind, you know!”

“I’m really, really sorry, okay? Let’s just… start over.” Your voice softened as you crouched beside him, offering the olive branch with a small, sheepish smile. You told him your name, letting it hang in the air between you like a peace offering.

The sorrowful quiver in his voice stabbed sharply at your chest, twisting into a deep ache. A hot flush rose to your cheeks as guilt churned anxiously in your stomach. You dropped your gaze to your restless hands, twisting nervously against each other in your lap. It was only supposed to be a playful joke, yet somehow, you’d managed to upset him anyway, and that realization was unbearably uncomfortable.

Rafayel stayed quiet for a moment. Then, as if sampling something foreign and sweet, he whispered your name back to you. Slowly, deliberately, rolling it around his mouth like it meant something sacred. The way he said it sent a strange warmth skittering up your neck and into your cheeks, leaving you flustered for reasons you couldn’t quite pin down.

After a pause, he finally lifted his head. His face was suspiciously dry, not a single tear in sight.

“My name is Rafayel,” he declared, trying for regal but landing somewhere between smug and bashful. “From Lemuria.”

He stopped there, deliberately omitting The Last Sea God. No need to add that complication. Humans had a habit of getting grabby when divine titles were involved.

“Rafayel,” you repeated, grinning. “What a pretty name!”

That did it. With an audible groan, he buried his face in his arms again, but not before you caught the flash of crimson coloring his cheeks. Compliments weren’t rare for him—he was objectively, irritatingly beautiful—but when they came from you, they somehow bypassed all his practiced indifference. And he hated that.

“Yeah, thanks,” he muttered into the crook of his elbow. “So… are you gonna help me now?”

With a laugh bubbling from your lips, you reached out and gently took hold of one of his arms, then the other, tugging him carefully toward the waterline. He didn’t resist, just grumbled theatrically under his breath as you resumed the awkward task of dragging a slippery sea god across the sand like a misbehaving seal.

The foamy edge of the tide met your feet with a sharp, icy kiss, and you inhaled through your teeth. The contrast between the sun-warmed sand and the cold embrace of the ocean made you shiver, but you pressed forward, wading deeper until the water licked at your thighs, your legs stinging with each step.

“A little further, please,” Rafayel requested softly, his voice unusually gentle, and since he asked so sweetly, how could you refuse?

“Okay,” you said, glancing down at him with a mixture of triumph and exhaustion. “You should be able to swim from here, right?”

Moving him grew easier as the ocean buoyed his weight, gently lifting him from your aching grasp. Soon, the cool seawater rose to your collarbones, forcing you to balance precariously on the tips of your toes. Caleb was definitely going to murder you for returning his favorite sweatshirt soaked with salt and smelling like seaweed, but you knew his anger would melt into fond annoyance within minutes. It always did.

Finally, Rafayel managed to gracefully slip from your hold, freeing himself effortlessly. He turned to face you, his silvery tail shimmering beneath the gentle afternoon sunlight, the ocean rippling around him like satin.

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, avoiding your eyes with sudden shyness, his gaze cast downward toward the glittering reflection dancing atop the waves. He reminded you of someone who longed to stare into the sun—captivated yet unable to bear the brilliance.

His voice softened to something vulnerable, almost pleading. “You can’t tell anyone you saw me, okay? Promise?”

Shivering slightly, your teeth chattering uncontrollably, you nodded vigorously. You wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone—not a single soul. Your heart held the secret safely tucked away.

“You…you really should get out of the water,” Rafayel noted with gentle concern, noticing your trembling. “It doesn’t look like it’s good for you.”

“N-no, I’m okay,” you protested, stubbornness coloring your tone. “I want to stay in… just a little longer.” The truth was simpler, quieter: you didn’t want to leave him yet. You craved the strange warmth of his presence, curious about his story, his home, most importantly, about him. You secretly wished you could see him every day, even knowing how impossible such a dream was. Still, you clung tightly to that tiny speck of hope, refusing to let it slip through your fingers. “I… I like swimming. Really.”

The Lemurian giggled at your insistence, the sound light and silvery like wind dancing over water. Then, with surprising tenderness, he lifted his hands and placed them gently on your shoulders. “This might help,” he murmured, almost bashfully.

The ocean around you had stilled, waves brushing gently past your body like silk ribbons, serene and infinitely tender. The waters felt alive, quietly rejoicing at Rafayel’s safe return home. And somewhere deep within, hidden beneath layers of conscious thought, you understood their gratitude, their happiness. It was a quiet celebration whispered in currents and tides.

From his palms radiated a soft, pulsing warmth that seeped deep into your skin, chasing away the tremble in your bones. The cold retreated like a shadow at sunrise, leaving behind a glowing calm that settled in your chest. For a heartbeat, you questioned everything. Was this real? Were you actually in the ocean, being magically warmed by a mythical sea boy with glowy hands? If it wasn’t real, you didn’t want to wake up.

He didn’t move his hands, and part of you was certain that if he let go, the chill would come crashing back in full force—icy, bitter, and deeply unwelcome.

You floated together in silence, not speaking, not quite looking at each other, but acutely aware. The kind of silence that felt full instead of empty. Like something important was being said without words.

Then Rafayel finally broke the stillness, his voice barely louder than the whisper of the sea. “Did you mean it?”

You glanced up, surprised by the tremble in his tone. His eyes met yours—vibrant violet-blues that shimmered with something distant, almost ancient. There was a strange familiarity in them, like he was seeing something in you that even you hadn’t yet discovered. His expression was gentle, searching. A softness poured from him that felt vital, but strange, like a melody you didn’t know the lyrics to.

“Mean what?” you asked, your voice quieter now too, respectful of the moment.

“That you liked me,” he said again, more deliberately this time, and his face flushed pink, rosy with nervous hope. He looked like he needed the answer—not just wanted it, but needed it. Even if your version of liking wasn’t quite the fairytale romance he might’ve been imagining.

“Of course I did,” you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rafayel’s breath caught in his throat. He nearly pulled away, hands twitching upward as if he might bury them in his hair in disbelief, but stopped himself just in time. His face suddenly shifted, a serious look overtaking his features—well, as serious as a sea child with a flushed face and sparkly eyes could manage.

Your eyes went cartoonishly wide the moment the words left his mouth, like someone had just proposed marriage in the middle of a math test. Then came the laughter: bright, genuine, and unstoppable. You laughed so hard your sides ached, until you caught the way Rafayel’s expression shifted from confident to confused, and then to downright devastated.

“We should get married,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it were the natural next step.

“Wait—wait, you’re for real?” you gasped, stifling your giggles as guilt crept in. “I’m only nine! And you don’t look much older than me either!”

He blinked, long and slow, as though your words were puzzling and distant, as though the concept of age was a tiny detail he'd forgotten to care about. “Well... you could just come back with me to Lemuria,” he said earnestly, like he was solving a simple puzzle. “We’ll get married in fifty years. Is that better?”

Clearly, Rafayel had no idea how human lifespans worked, or how short they were in comparison to… whatever he was.

You giggled again, but this time it was softer, laced with warmth, and you offered an immediate apology, sensing how tightly wound he’d suddenly become. “I can’t just leave, Rafayel. I’ve got someone really important to me here. I can’t abandon him. Caleb needs me.”

You saw it then—the way his face faltered, the way his grip on your shoulders tightened ever so slightly. Maybe wasn’t the word he wanted to hear.

“But maybe…” you added gently, “maybe one day I’ll run away with you.”

Maybe?

Maybe?

The word echoed in Rafayel’s mind like a crack through crystal. His lips formed a pout, but there was a storm behind his eyes. Who was this mysterious someone you couldn't leave behind? What kind of human could possibly be more important than the thread of fate Rafayel felt between the two of you? The thought gnawed at him—uninvited, irrational, and too loud to ignore.

“Next year,” Rafayel said, his voice steady with conviction, “let’s meet on this same day, at the same time. And every year after that… until you’re ready to marry me. I’ll chase you until I find you again if you don’t return to me.”

It wasn’t fair, he told himself. You were just a human girl, someone he’d only just met. And yet, deep in the marrow of his being, in the secret place where memory blurs into myth, Rafayel was certain he knew you. Not in this life, perhaps, but in another. A thousand tides ago. A thousand names ago. He knew you, and he had already chosen you. And you him.

He said it like a vow, carved into the ocean air, a promise wrapped in tides and time. Beneath his calm exterior, though, was an ache too vast for his small frame to carry. So much hurt pressed against his heart, fractured and layered like coral reef. But none of that mattered. Not now. Not when he looked at you and saw something he couldn’t explain—something that felt right. Even if it wasn’t today, or tomorrow, or ten years from now… he would wait. As long as it took.

And now it was your turn to blush. Your face lit up like the sun had turned its gaze directly on you. How could someone you’d only known for thirty minutes speak with such unwavering devotion? It was terrifying. And beautiful. And weirdly… comforting.

Without thinking, your hands floated up to his cheeks, cupping them with the gentlest reverence, like he was something fragile and rare. The gesture felt achingly familiar, like you’d done it a thousand times in a hundred forgotten lifetimes. Rafayel didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He simply leaned into your touch, eyes flickering with quiet awe.

“I promise,” you whispered. “But—”

Your voice faltered the moment your name rang out over the waves, sharp and urgent. You whipped your head toward the sound, panic rising like a wave inside you. Caleb.

You weren’t supposed to be out here. Not this far. Not alone.

The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, its final light spilling across the sea in ribbons of gold and rose. It caught in Rafayel’s eyes, turning them into twin galaxies—deep, endless, impossible to look away from.

He was glowing. Or maybe the sea was. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Your name came again, closer this time, slicing through the magic like a knife.

You had to go.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer.” Your voice trembled with regret, fragile as seafoam. It wasn’t your fault—none of this was your fault—and yet the apology hung heavy in the air, like a promise you wished you didn’t have to make.

Now.

“Next year, okay?” you added softly. “Same day. Same time. And every year after that.”

You tried to smile, but it barely reached your eyes. It was a ghost of joy, hollowed out by the ache in your chest. You didn’t want to leave any more than Rafayel wanted to let you go. His hands stayed firmly planted on your shoulders, as if by sheer will alone, he could keep you anchored there forever. The sea murmured around you, reluctant to give you up.

Only when you quietly whispered his name did his grip falter. His fingers slid from your shoulders like seaweed slipping through the tide, falling back to his sides with quiet defeat.

“I’ll see you again,” you muttered, the words catching in your throat like sand in the wind.

You both lifted a hand in parting. Then, with one last look, you turned and began waddling out of the water, the hem of your soaked clothes heavy and dragging. Rafayel stayed where he was, motionless, then ducked behind a jagged rock, the coral-slick surface cool against his skin. He needed to see it. Needed to see who was taking you from him this time?

A boy. Slightly older than Rafayel, but not by much. Dark hair, sharp gaze, and wearing a thin white patient’s gown and matching sweats that fluttered in the salty breeze.

Then he noticed you were wearing the same thing—only yours was half-hidden beneath a dark cotton sweatshirt. Your feet were bare, and bandages wrapped your right hand and neck like the sea had tried to take pieces of you with it. A pang of unease twisted in Rafayel’s chest.

Is this… what all humans wear? he wondered. Are you sick? Hurt? Trapped?

He didn’t know. And that frightened him more than anything.

“You’re lucky I found you before they did,” the boy said abruptly, grabbing your soaked arm and pulling you against him protectively. “What were you thinking, coming all the way out here?”

Caleb. Rafayel heard the name in your voice earlier, soaked in affection.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to swim…” you murmured, voice barely more than a ripple in the wind. You looked down at your feet as you walked, salt still clinging to your skin, hair dripping a steady rhythm onto the ground. You truly sounded ashamed, like a child who’d broken something delicate. But you hadn’t said a word about Rafayel. You’d kept your promise.

Wherever it was you stayed, wherever you were being taken back to, it needed you to return. Urgently.

The older boy sighed, not with irritation, but with weariness softened by care. “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? I just need to make sure you’re safe.”

His voice trailed off as the two of you disappeared down the beach, toward the dock bathed in the last golden blush of sunset. Maybe back to the city. Maybe to somewhere secret, tucked away from the world.

For a long time, Rafayel didn’t move. The sea lapped at his tail, beckoning him home, but he stayed crouched behind the stone, eyes fixed on the path you’d vanished down. Only when the beach was swallowed by dusk did he finally slip beneath the waves and return to the deep blue—where a very angry guardian awaited.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t know who that boy was. He didn’t know where they were keeping you, or why you wore such strange clothing. But he would find out. He had to. Because you were living in his head now, like a melody half-remembered, a face from a dream. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—about the bizarre certainty that he’d known you before, long before this life.

He would tell you next time. He would tell you everything.

About Lemuria, about the sea that sings his name. About how he’s a god—the last sea god. About all the lifetimes you’d met before. About how, century after century, you always found each other, and always fell in love.

But that’s how a child thinks. That stories are spells. That if he tells you, really tells you, you’ll remember too. That your eyes will light up and your arms will open, and you’ll come back to him forever.

Because you promised.

Next year.

Same day. Same time.

And every year after that.