PART 6: FINALE, IS ONGOING AT LONG LAST🤩 Better late than never😅
MASTERLIST
NOTE: The correct order to read this is from top to bottom, they unfortunately cannot be read as individual fics as each fic/s posted later needs details and context from the previous fic/s.
PART 1 - WE MEET AGAIN (COMPLETED)
XAVIER - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN(Xavier X OC)
SYLUS - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN(Sylus X OC)
RAFAYEL - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN(Rafayel X OC)
CALEB - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN(Caleb X OC)
ZAYNE - PART 1: WE MEET AGAIN(Zayne X OC)
PART 2 - CONVERGENCE (COMPLETED)
XAVIER & SYLUS POV - PART 2: FIRST CONVERGENCE
RAFAYEL, ZAYNE & CALEB POV - PART 2: SECOND CONVERGENCE
XAVIER & SYLUS POV - PART 2: THIRD CONVERGENCE
RAFAYEL, ZAYNE & CALEB POV - PART 2: FOURTH CONVERGENCE
ALL LIs POV - PART 2: FIFTH CONVERGENCE
PART 3 - THE CHASE BEGINS (COMPLETED)
XAVIER X OC - PART 3: THE CHASE BEGINS
SYLUS X OC - PART 3: THE CHASE BEGINS
RAFAYEL X OC - PART 3: THE CHASE BEGINS
CALEB X OC - PART 3: THE CHASE BEGINS
ZAYNE X OC - PART 3: THE CHASE BEGINS
PART 4 - TIME TO REGROUP (COMPLETED)
ALL LIs POV - PART 4: TIME TO REGROUP I
ALL LIs POV- PART 4: TIME TO REGROUP II
PART 5- THE BEGINNING (COMPLETED)
XAVIER X CELESTE - PART 5: THE BEGINNING
SYLUS X NYX - PART 5: THE BEGINNING
RAFAYEL X NERISSA - PART 5: THE BEGINNING
CALEB X LILIAN - PART 5: THE BEGINNING
ZAYNE X JASMINE - PART 5: THE BEGINNING
PART 6: FINALE - ONGOING
XAVIER X CELESTE - PART 6: FINALE
SYLUS X NYX - PART 6: FINALE
RAFAYEL X NERISSA - PART 6: FINALE
CALEB X LILIAN - PART 6: FINALE
This series was based on this concept:
1. All LIs have their own MCs.
2. All LIs have no memory of any of their past lives.
3. All the MCs have all of their memories.
4. They all meet again and LIs fall deeply in love with each of their MCs at first sight(because they're soulmates💗)
5. MCs are avoidant of LIs because they don't think they deserve them because of all the hardships they put them through(intentionally or unintentionally) in their past lives.
6. LIs are hurt because of their MCs avoidance but do everything to pursue them/gain their affection, while MCs continue to give/do excuses to avoid and reject them.
7. All the LIs are good friends with each other. All the MCs are sisters. The LIs are sharing their angst with each other because coincidentally all the women they love don't seem to like them/seem to hate them. All the MCs share in their angst of not feeling good enough/worthy enough for their LI.
8. The current main story of the game is a past life(so Caleb has a past life with MC as well). All the LIs are all reborn in this new lifetime where all their situations are better, and they have no trauma(Some examples I would use: (1)Philos is now an established country and Xavier is its prince and its people are just regular people, not turning to Wanderers; (2)there is no Astra's curse on Zayne and he has no troubles with his Evol; (3)Lemuria naturally just dried up a long time ago but all of its people managed to adapt on land slowly throughout the years, Rafayel is just a descendant of the race;(4) Sylus is just a regular, extremely rich criminal organization boss and (5)Caleb has no Toring Chip implanted, he was just the top student of the Aerospace Academy and became a DAA pilot after he graduated.
9. There is no external force or person or organization holding each of them back from being with one another EXCEPT the MCs' reluctance. So their really just prolonging the inevitable of ending up with their LI😄.
Thank you to everyone who has read this series🥹🙏
Tell me what you think of this series so far in the comments 💗
Three days ago I got to read the first chapter of LCDO Daigakusei-hen…
And wow….
Kaho is well…. she is a bit more self-aware. I didn’t expect to see her totally crushing-on Len.
I was surprised to see her gushing over Len’s letters…and because she was gushing, I feel like there will come a time when she *won’t* be and, yes, I mean the emphasis. There will be a reversal somewhere in this story because if Len continues to think that he can be unclear when everyone else has declared their intentions, he’ll be…. well, he’ll be lost.
Kaho has to figure out her identity outside of her goal to reach Len. Perhaps she will realize this the hard way when (I’m predicting this…I mean WHEN) Len doesn’t reciprocate in the way she wants. He has to remove her doubts and make her feel that he is invested in their relationship.
He will have to go after her. He has to be absolutely clear - it’s music that connects them but it’s up to him to make the effort to strengthen that connection.
How will he do this when he’s abroad?
It’s doable. There may be a grand gesture that’s waiting to happen but I think something simple and direct (and possibly very public) will be the key.
Hello, I’m the last person on earth who gaf about Daughter of the Emperor by Yunsul, the manhwa adaptation by Rino. I read it years ago and it stuck with me like a tapeworm. I still have thoughts on it, unfortunately, that I never shared before because of a lack of fandom but now I’ve resolved to just unleash them anyway because they still clutter up my mind from time to time. If there are other fans still in existence and I manage to reach them, I hope you share some of my thoughts or reply with your own. If not, maybe it’ll inspire you to read DOTE on your own and be drawn into the brain rot so I don’t have to suffer it alone, though be warned that it’s not for everyone and there have been complaints about the art and slow pacing.
In this post, I’ll address one of my biggest grievances with Daughter of The Emperor: Perdel.
Spoilers below. This thinkpiece is very long and still does not contain all my thoughts/hot takes on DOTE. No, I haven’t been tested for autism, why do you ask?
Something that always bothered me in regards to daughter of the emperor was the late climax, Caitel finding out Perdel’s betrayal. It’s a storyline that I have no objections to whatsoever in and of itself but feels very unearned in the story. By this I mean, most of Perdel’s characterization is the narrative telling us he’s smart instead of showing us and him fawning over Ariadna. And him being a wife guy, they tell us all the time.
However, there’s really nothing I can point to in the novel or manhwa that I would consider a display of his superior intelligence. It gets reiterated by other people but the closest thing we get to in terms of showing us is a chapter where Perdel mentions he’s read every book in the library as a kid and like that’s impressive I guess but he’s a nobleman, literally all he has is the time to do that and also like, yeah I should fucking hope a nobleman would be literate. When Ariadna is being taught by him, Perdel is smug over the fact that he knows more about the world than a child Ariadna who has never left the castle. Does that strike you as the mindset someone who’s a true political genius and a pillar of government by himself? No. Politicians love to flex and look down their noses at people but at very least, few of them need an ego stroke so desperately they need to hold information above a child’s head.
Yunsul, the creator of DOTE, and Rino who adapted it in my opinion run into the common obstacle that is writing smart characters while not being Einstein herself. I don’t say this as shade or an insult because I love DOTE and as far as I know, I’m the only person on earth who genuinely believes it’s better than wmmap writing wise. Yunsul and Rino do interesting and clever things with the trope of the tyrannical father and the perspective that DOTE depicts is invaluable to me, someone who enjoys stories about messy family dynamics. The arc of Ariadna going into her father’s mind and seeing him as a vulnerable child after only knowing him to be almost inhuman reads to me like a fulfillment of that thing a lot of children go through of knowing there’s a separation between parent and person that they can never merge in order to get a complete picture of their parents flaws, vulnerabilities, hardships and secrets. Ariadna and Caitel’s relationship is one of the only times that the protective royal father and princess daughter trope has been taken anywhere interesting. His speech to her about all of his flaws and how being a parent has changed everything for him once she finds him in his dreams is pure cinema.
All that to say, I’m not at all insulting Yunsul’s/Rino’s intelligence. What I’m saying is that they wrote themselves into a corner as is common with authors because they’re not infallible with superhuman intelligence. Caitel is very clearly their favorite character in the story and naturally much of her words and story beats serve to further flesh him out. A frequent complaint DOTE gets is that it’s very slow and there’s really no rising action or climax in like hundreds of chapters. It functions as a slice of life until it abruptly doesn’t. It’s as though while writing a very episodic look into the post war life of a father and daughter, she randomly remembered toward the end that some friction and stakes greater than familial arguments and miscommunications needed to be applied, so…that’s where Perdel comes back in.
His betrayal of Caitel makes sense as a concept, his reasoning and the reasoning that narrative clearly wants us to take at face value, is that he never really cared much for caitel and he was just a hard working, patriotic wife guy who just wanted to be Silvia’s hero, the woman he loves above all else. Fine. But there’s a few problems with that, first of which being that him selling out Caitel and Ariadna is stupid in itself. I promise I don’t say that out of bias, one thing I very much enjoy about DOTE is that it’s comfortable with letting people hate Caitel without characterizing them as completely villainous and irrational for doing so. Yunsul seems to have literally no interest in washing away Caitel’s sins and redeeming him completely and that’s uncommon in this genre, it’s part of why even after all this time, I still think of DOTE. But objectively, it is and was incredibly stupid to sell out a royal family that people have come to have love for with a narrative that makes them popular among people, a princess who is hailed as an angel who softened her father’s heart and protected them from war through love alone— to an emergency backdoor heir who is working with their enemy Pretzia (Preazia? idk), who has no experience ruling, who attacks a beloved princess from a distance and who has presumably spent most of his time outside the empire entirely. There is no reason for anyone to accept him as ruler in the era of hard earned and tentative peace.
Even if I look at this from the lens of just shrewd, cutthroat morally grey king advisor, Caitel’s older half brother is more reckless and less easily controlled than Caitel is. Though we don’t know his actual age, or at least I can’t remember it being mentioned exactly, he’s older than 40 and has one heir he sent to Caitel, comfortable with the notion that Caitel might just dash his head off his body like he’s done before with supposed heirs. I don’t think the boy was receiving some great education to be heir, even if the half brother rebel whose name I lowkey forgot because it’s so unimportant (I think they mostly call him the 13th prince?) was planning on marrying and having a legitimate heir, that still opens up succession wars whether he fails or succeeds because his previous child who would be the oldest son, was born from a princess who very obviously has every intention of garnering power through him. Perdel seems to only have the throne to hold over the prince’s head and if he had succeeded in getting it, how can Perdel keep him from doing what he wants? How can he stop him from doing what Caitel did and simply killing everyone who was once loyal to the previous ruler? He’s a mama’s boy, we know that from Caitel using her as leverage but even so, it was weak leverage. Ariadna is Caitel’s weakness, she’s ended massacres and wars with tears alone. Perdel often condescends to her about her talent as a ruler but my own opinions on her writing aside, Ariadna is demonstrably kind, goodnatured, clever, persuasive and well loved. She trusts Perdel and holds his opinion with a level of regard. Practically speaking, she’s the perfect person to prime as a figurehead while having significant influence on her so he doesn’t have to worry about keeping her from destroying everything. To be frank, it’s utter foolishness to throw that away for a man with his own army who is shown to be nothing but untrustworthy, apathetic, greedy, reckless and unscrupulous. Ariadna, time and time again, tempers Caitel into making more sound decisions. Who does that for the prince? Who can keep him in line? Perdel, who apparently didn’t even have the forethought to even try to hide his family for a bit even though he knew Caitel was always going to figure out his betrayal and has no qualms whatsoever about murdering entire families over less? Of course not.
Perdel mentions that Caitel doesn’t care about the country but what exactly makes him think his other choice does? Obviously, it’d be nice if Caitel was some huge patriot with a heart full of disinterested love but most political figures aren’t, what’s more important than that is action. Caitel is shown to be consistently working late and this is shown to us in tandem with his reasoning in one of his POV chapters, that he doesn’t want to neglect his duties like his father, who mostly just whored around with concubines, leaving his job for his main mistress to do. Caitel learns a nobleman fled from his people in an attack, leaving them to fight with inferior weapons and got genuinely angry on their behalf. He obviously has some care for his people even if it’s not to Perdel’s vague standards.
Ironically, though Perdel is the one who apparently we’re meant to believe cares more about the country, we never see an instance on par with the scene I mentioned from him. Referring back to Yunsul’s love of Caitel, many of the things Perdel needs to be for this little climax to happen are things that we’re only told he is but that Caitel is shown to be. Caitel is fleshed out painstakingly through hundred’s of chapters that Perdel is only a minor character in. He and Ariadna are kinda the only people we see do much of anything important for the most part. We’re told Perdel works hard but even Asisi sacrifices his health, body and sleep doing his job, actually, he seems to have more sleepless nights and he suffers them without any complaint. He considers it a privilege and happiness to guard the princess, although it’s not because she’s the heir apparent, it’s much closer to a show of patriotism and love than anything we ever see Perdel do. They quite literally couldn’t keep Asisi from doing his job and as he ages, he doesn’t retire, he trains the next generation of knights. Perdel literally leaves his position as chancellor without having even primed a suitable replacement, something that in reality is criticized within politics. After being fired, he works for a little more (doing what? the vague concept of work and “documents” as always) but this is just another instance of Yunsul’s flaws as a writer in telling us he’s important and irreplaceable rather than showing us. The new chancellor works alongside Ariadna, we’re supposed to believe Ariadna is just not smart enough as a politician (Ariadna mentions that Perdel told her she only has the luck of being born royal which is wild to say given his own position) and the chancellor is much too inexperienced but things don’t go crashing down when Perdel isn’t holding them together. Minor hiccups ensue but even when she is married off, there’s no whisper of concern that with the heir apparent gone and the apparently hyper-competent chancellor retired.
Circling back around to Silvia, who is his apparent motive for doing this, her wish for a better future for new generations to live in is incongruent with the means Perdel took, as the narrative would have us believe, to achieve it. Getting her cousin, Caitel who she already has a report with and obviously cares for and his daughter who she dotes on like her own child killed and usurped by a man who is objectively chaos and instability in a human form, is not a fulfillment of that wish. And Yunsul clearly understands that because she chooses to affirm Perdel’s actions by having her come to bring him food and him vaguely speaking about how they could potentially lose their titles because of something he did. The truth is never dealt with. One of the twins is the only one who knows full truth and he’s pissed about it, but even that is waved away quickly. With the way Silvia is characterized, there would be no way of writing her as being any less horrified without upheaving what we know about her character entirely and that takes chapters that Yunsul was running out of. So for sake of tidying the story up, she leaves the money on the table. She talks to him vaguely about how much better the country is and she believes in and supports him blah blah blah. Very sweet. But…that doesn’t work. It’s anticlimatic. It’s dull. It’s simple. Yunsul clearly had some reluctance to hit the story beats this plot point necessitates to be explored fully and rightfully so, considering it comes up so late in the story with barely any build up. She wrote herself into a corner and then when she suddenly realized that not much has really happened as far as rising action and stakes, she had to neatly square away the betrayal twist in a few chapters so she could finally fit the big happy resolution in. For that to happen, she had no choice but to skip over the natural beats you’d expect this plot to serve, the tension of Silvia finding out and the strain it would put on all of their family, really. Ahin is also related to Perdel through one of his unnamed sisters, though he was adopted as an heir to the holy empire. He’s also madly in love with Ariadna to the point where he can even get slick at the mouth with Havel, who Caitel’s older brother was planning to “give” Ariadna to. I can’t imagine that being already distant from the Vitervo family by necessity of duty and then finding out his uncle risked the princess he’s loved for years would go over easy. It might have political implications reaching so far as the holy empire. Perdel’s treason should have caused a huge conflict in all the dynamics he has but it doesn’t, it lays there like a dead fish.
Don’t even get me started on the assertion that Caitel can’t kill him because that just ties back in to telling and not showing why Perdel is irreplaceable. There’s also a scene just before Caitel finds out where he kills a knight while trying to find the daughter he loves so much it can push him toward violence easily, Perdel doesn’t speak up to prevent that from happening even though he admits it was inevitable he’d find out. He simply thinks that he’ll have to send flowers to the man’s family…I’m sorry, that’s who I’m supposed to think put his all into a more peaceful future? Even from the angle of this vague yandere thing of only doing what he does for sake of his promise to Silvia because he loves her so much more than anyone else and is only loyal to her, her life, her title, her children were all in danger because of him. The only one who really succeeded in bringing about even a slightly brighter future was Caitel, or technically just Ariadna. Perdel struggled to keep Caitel’s homocidal streak under control, he’s shown to get around taxation so it’s not as though he’s selfless when it comes to his own benefits (typically elites, am i right?) and Ariadna can free prisoners just by complaining. Perdel didn’t put an end to Caitel adding to his long list of war crimes, Ariadna did by giving Caitel as reason to stay put, to care about the way he presents himself. Perdel just rattles off exposition and acts generally smarmy to say nothing about Rino’s apparent fondness for having him act weird about garnering the affection of child Ariadna and wanting to spend time with her without Caitel’s consent, but that’s another thinkpiece entirely.
Another thing worth noting is that when Perdel sees the close relationship with Ariadna and advises her not to be so friendly with them. Though I supposed in and of itself, that makes sense for the setting and especially so since there are spies but I get the sense that Perdel in that instance is mostly just speaking to the dignity of her position as a princess. It always irked me a bit, since Ariadna’s relationships with “the help” have saved her life countless times. It’s won her loyal subjects, one of her maids told her she wanted to serve her dutifully for the rest of her life even rejecting the idea of marrying and leaving the palace. Elaine and Serira both have been willing sticking their necks out for her. Serira damn near lost her life protecting her. That loyalty is invaluable and the notion that she shouldn’t nurture it isn’t shrewd, it’s just wasteful. Though that’s admittedly more of a nitpick.
The fact Ash is low-key ALREADY obsessed with Dru😭
They've literally only interacted TWICE:
1. When Dru accidentally transports to Faerie in Lord of Shadows and meets Ash for the first time while he's held captive by the Unseelie King.
2. When Dru accidentally transports to Faerie in Chapter One of TLKOF and is protected by Ash from the goblins. And he sends her back to Shadowhunter Academy safe - while also giving her a brooch for the 'proof of Faerie presence' so she could pass Luke's test(he didn't have to do that, but he did!)
ASH basically:
1. Has a drawing of Dru that Julian drew and dropped in Thule - and he keeps it in his pocket and stares at it from time to time (Like in Forever Fallen)
2. Is confirmed to kidnap Dru in TLKOF based on the TLKOF Description.
3. Gives Dru the prettiest dresses to wear while she's in Faerie with him - as shown in the TLKOF Cover and the art in the Barnes and Noble Edition(those dresses are def from him, I'm calling it!)
4. I also recall a tweet from Cassandra Clare that Ash had sent a pumpkin to Dru before with a knife in it??(Please correct me on this or send me a screen shot of this tweet from CC if you have it🙏) - and it's supposed to have some like romantic meaning (for Faeries) while Dru thinks there's someone out there threathening her🤣
While DRU on the other hand:
Literally forgets about his existence after each encounter🤣
Curious, what do you guys think about this?😂
And please tell me of any other Morgenthorn interactions no matter how trivial/minute if I missed any pleaseee🙏🙏🙏
⚘. summary Ꮺ You ordered a custom dildo that perfectly matches your big-brother-figure Caleb’s dick. Caleb ordered a pocket pussy that perfectly matches your's. Neither of you knows the toys are synced to the real thing. Now every time one of you fucks your toy, the other feels it—like ghost sex on steroids. You’ve both spent months thinking you’re being haunted by the supernatural while secretly fucking each other senseless through the wall. The feedback loop goes haywire. No one is surviving this vacation with their sanity intact.
⚘. content warnings Ꮺ pseudocest, og cn gege/meimei trope, heavy dubcon, masturbations, unsolved sexual tension, zero communications, guilt, denial, forbidden desires, sexual frustration, mutual yearning, usage of sex toys, magical sex toys that secretly link to other person's body, mutual fucking, semi-public/public, double penetration, extreme tightness + involuntary orgasms, excessive cumming/squirting, porn with little no plot . . .18 + ★ MINORS DNI !
⚘. wc Ꮺ 6k+
⚘. cherry’s note Ꮺ this is probably the weirdest scenario I've written so far... took me some real good TIME to finish...
“And that’s the last box,” you huff, letting the cardboard thud against the scuffed hardwood near the doorway. You straighten up straight, rolling your shoulders, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist. The tiny apartment looks like a warzone of luggage and flat-pack furniture Caleb swore you “absolutely needed”—his credit card, his orders, his quiet, stubborn way of still taking care of you even when he’s hundreds of miles away.
Linkon City air tastes different. Sharper. Lonelier.
You’ve been here three weeks and it still doesn’t feel like home. Maybe it never will without him barging through the door, scolding you for leaving dishes in the sink or for forgetting to eat again.
A sigh slips out as you kick off your sneakers. Shower first, chaos later.
Clothes hit the floor in a careless pile. The bathroom is barely big enough for one person, but the water pressure is perfect—hot, punishing, exactly what your sore muscles crave. Steam fills the cramped space, fogging the mirror, swallowing every reflection that isn’t you.
You tip your head back, letting the spray pound against your throat, your collarbones, sliding down between your breasts. The heat loosens something inside your chest.
Caleb’s face flashes behind your closed eyes uninvited. Always uninvited, yet always there.
Sharp jaw. Tired eyes that soften only for you. The way his pilot uniform hugs his shoulders now that he’s filling out, taller and broader every time he comes home on break. The way he still calls you “little pipsqueak” even though you’re not little anymore.
You shouldn’t.
You really, really shouldn’t.
But your hand is already moving, gliding over slick skin, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your navel, lower.
“You must’ve felt this heavy too, gege…” you whisper to the steam, voice trembling with guilt and something darker. “All alone in Skyhaven… in that big empty house with no one to—”
Your fingers slip between your thighs, parting swollen folds, finding yourself already soaked and it has nothing to do with the shower.
A broken little sound escapes as you circle your clit, slow, teasing, the same way you’ve imagined he would if he ever—God—if he ever let himself unravel like this.
“Mmh… gege, are you worried about me?” The words come out filthy, breathless, wrong in the best way. “Do you… think about me when you’re alone too?”
You press two fingers inside yourself, curling, pumping, thighs shaking. The heel of your palm grinds against your clit and your hips jerk forward like you’re fucking your own hand, like you’re chasing a ghost that wears his face.
You’ve never touched each other. Not once. Not beyond lingering hugs that lasted too long, not beyond his thumb brushing your cheek when you cried after graduation, not beyond falling asleep on his shoulder during long flights home and pretending both of you didn’t notice how neither moved away.
But you know.
You both know.
“C-Caleb—” His name cracks in your throat as you come undone, clenching hard around your fingers, knees nearly buckling. Water pounds over you like it’s trying to wash the sin off your skin, but it can’t reach the stain inside your chest.
You stay there until the water starts to cool, forehead pressed to the tile, panting, ashamed, and still aching for him.
Because even an entire city apart, even with new lives and new rules and the Hunter Academy waiting to swallow you whole tomorrow—Caleb is still the only home you want to go back to.
And you’re terrified he wants to come back to you too.
You step out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but steam and guilt, skin still tingling, cheeks flaming hotter than the shower ever got. Droplets race down your neck, your spine, between your ass cheeks; every trickle feels like a reprimand. You don’t even bother with clothes. You just belly-flop onto the bed, wet hair fanning across the pillow, and immediately start flailing like a dying shrimp.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you hiss, kicking the sheets, punching the mattress, rolling side to side until the towel finally gives up and falls open. You lie there spread-eagle, panting at the ceiling like it personally offended you.
You miss your stupid, overprotective, stupidly hot gege this much.
It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.
You need to do something about it before you lose the last shred of your sanity.
With a groan you drag the laptop Caleb bought you—matte black, way too expensive, has a little fighter-jet sticker he slapped on the lid as a joke— onto your stomach and flip it open. Fingers hover over the keys for half a second before shame loses the fight.
You type: “best sex toys for beginners”.
The screen explodes with color and silicone and words like “thrusting” and “suction” and “10 vibration patterns”. Your eyes go wide.
“Oh WOW…”
You scroll, jaw literally on the floor, until you hit the prices and wheeze. Eight hundred dollars for a rabbit vibrator? Who has that kind of money? Certainly not a broke freshman hunter living off instant noodles and Caleb’s guilt-money transfers.
You slam the laptop shut, fling yourself backward again, and whine at the ceiling.
“Too broke for that… damn, I can’t even get a proper dildo shoved up into my pussy, life is unfair—”
Ding ding.
Your phone lights up on the nightstand. Unknown number. A link.
Normally you’d ignore it. Today you’re desperate and dumb, so you squint, see “70% OFF FLASH SALE!!” in screaming red letters, and click before your brain catches up.
The site that loads is… questionable. Neon pink, flickering banners, probably one virus away from stealing your soul. But front and center is a product that makes your heart stop.
“Upload a photo, choose vein pattern, pick warmth settings; experience the exact cock you’ve always dreamed of.”
Your mouth goes dry.
There’s a little heart icon that says “Most Wishlisted Item of the Year”.
You shouldn’t.
You really, really shouldn’t.
But your finger is already over the “Customize Now” button and your thighs are already squeezing together remembering how your own fingers felt pretending they were his.
Ten minutes later you’ve uploaded the clearest photo you have of Caleb—him leaning against the cockpit of his fighter, flight suit half-zipped, smirk sharp enough to cut glass. You pick the length you’ve definitely never measured in your head while hugging him goodbye, the exact girth your dirty imagination has circled back to for years, the upward curve you’ve caught a glimpse of once through his sweatpants and never recovered from.
Veins: raised, prominent, just like the ones on his forearms when he carries your luggage without breaking a sweat. Warmth setting: “always hot, like he just worked out”. Internal texture: “tight but yielding, the way you bet he’d feel if he ever snapped and pinned you down.
The total, with the sketchy discount, is suspiciously low. Delivery: 3–5 days, discreet packaging.
Your finger hovers over “Place Order”. Morals scream. Pussy throbs harder. You hit the button before you can talk yourself out of it.
Order confirmed. You drop the phone like it’s on fire, roll facedown into the pillow, and muffle a scream that’s half horror, half unbearable anticipation.
In three to five days, you’re going to fuck a perfect replica of the cock belonging to the one person you’re never, ever supposed to want.
And you already know you’re going to call it gege while you do.
Five days of checking the mailbox like a lunatic. Five days of that stupid website 404-ing every time you tried to track the order. Five days of punching training dummies with your entire soul while screaming internally about getting scammed out of your last paycheck for a ghost dick.
“FUCK, IT WAS A SCAM!” you snarl, slamming an uppercut into the dummy’s throat so hard the stuffing starts leaking, “WHAT WAS I THINKING!”. Your squadmates give you a wide berth, whispering. Whatever. Let them think you’re unhinged. You are unhinged.
Then your phone buzzes against your hip. Package delivered.
You don’t even wait for the instructor to dismiss you. You just bolt, boots pounding pavement the whole way back, lungs burning, sweat cooling on your neck in the evening air. The second the apartment door slams behind you, you spot the box.
Plain brown. No labels except your name in printed font. You drop to your knees like a woman possessed, nails clawing at tape, ripping cardboard like it owes you money. The lid flies off. And you stop breathing.
Nestled in black satin is the most obscene, perfect, terrifying cock you’ve ever seen.
It’s huge. Stupidly, ridiculously huge. Thick veins snake up the shaft, only these are flushed dark, pulsing faintly with the built-in warming tech. The head is that deep brownish-pink, flared and glistening from whatever hyper-realistic coating they used. Heavy balls hang low, weighted, shifting slightly when you nudge the box.
You don’t remember setting the length slider this high.
You don’t care. Your mouth actually waters.
“Oh wow…” It comes out strangled. You fall back onto your ass, legs splayed, staring at the thing like it might stand up and walk over to you itself. “Oh my god.”
Your pussy clenches so hard you feel it in your throat.
You haven’t even taken your sweaty training gear off and you’re already dripping down your thighs.
You pick it up with both hands—jesus, it’s warm, heavier than expected and the second your fingers close around the shaft it pulses again, like it knows who it belongs to.
Like it’s been waiting for you just as long as you’ve been waiting for him.
You press the thick head against your cheek without thinking, dragging it down to your lips, breathing in the clean, new-silicone scent mixed with whatever insane tech makes it smell faintly like his cologne.
“Fuck, gege…” you whisper against the tip, voice cracking.
The toy throbs in your grip like it heard you.
You have never sprinted to lock your bedroom door faster in your life.You don’t make it to the bed.
The second the lock clicks you’re already peeling off your sweat-soaked clothes, sports bra flung somewhere, shorts kicked aside, panties dragged down your thighs and left dangling off one ankle. The toy is still in your grip, hot against your palm, veins pulsing faintly with the internal heater like it has a heartbeat.
You drop to your knees on the rug, legs spreading wide without shame, back hitting the edge of the mattress. The thick head nudges your lips and you open instantly, greedy, tongue flattening against the underside as you take the first few inches into your mouth. It’s too big; your jaw aches immediately, drool already spilling down your chin, but you force yourself deeper, gagging softly, eyes watering.
You pull off with a wet pop and a broken moan.
“Need you inside me, gege… please—”
You flip onto all fours, ass in the air, face buried in the sheets that still smell like the detergent he used to buy for both of you back home. One hand reaches back, guiding the fat tip through your soaked folds, coating it, teasing your clit until your thighs shake.
Then you push.
The stretch is obscene. Your pussy flutters, resists, then gives all at once. A strangled cry rips out of you as the first half sinks in, thick veins dragging against your walls, that perfect upward curve kissing spots you’ve never reached with your fingers. You claw at the sheets, hips jerking back on instinct, taking more, more, until your ass meets the heavy silicone balls and you’re stuffed so full you can’t breathe.
“F-fuck—Caleb—”
You pull forward until only the head remains, then slam back. The impact makes you scream into the mattress. Again. Harder. Faster. Your tits bounce with every brutal thrust, nipples dragging against the rug, thighs slapping against silicone like they’re slapping against his hips.
You lose count of how many times you fuck yourself on it. You lose language. All that exists is the wet, filthy sound of your cunt swallowing him, the burn in your thighs, the way your clit throbs every time the base grinds against it.
You flip over, legs thrown wide, knees hooked over your elbows so you can watch. Watch the way your pussy lips stretched thin around his cock, watch it disappear inside you again and again, slick coating everything, dripping down your ass, pooling on the floor.
“Look what you do to me, gege,” you sob, voice wrecked. “Look how wet you make me—how empty I am without you—fuck, I’m such a slut for you—”
Your free hand flies to your clit, rubbing frantic circles, and the orgasm barrels into you like a freight train. You squirt, actually squirt, a gush that soaks the toy and your thighs and the rug beneath you. Your walls clamp down so hard the dildo almost slips out, but you shove it deeper, riding the aftershocks, grinding, crying his name like a prayer.
You don’t stop.
You can’t.
You pull it out only long enough to flip the toy around and shove the slick head against your ass, teasing, not quite brave enough yet, but the thought alone makes you come again, smaller this time, a full-body shudder that leaves you gasping.
When you finally collapse, the dildo is still buried to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around it in lazy pulses. You’re trembling, sweaty, ruined. Tears and drool and cum smeared across your face and chest.
You reach down blindly, fingers brushing the base, and give it one last slow thrust just to hear yourself whimper.
“…come home soon, gege,” you whisper to the empty room, voice hoarse. “I don’t think this is gonna be enough anymore.”
The toy stays inside you the rest of the night. You fall asleep clenching around it, dreaming of the real thing finally splitting you open.
—
—
Skyhaven, DAA parade grounds, 18:47 local.
Caleb is standing at parade rest, flight jacket crisp, medals gleaming, trying to look like the perfect poster boy for the Deepspace Aviation Academy while the brass drones on about honor and vigilance. The formation is dead silent except for the wind whipping the flags.
Then it starts.
A faint tingle at the base of his spine. He shifts his weight, ignores it. Probably just nerves.
Gideon elbows him from the left. “Dude, you good? You’re sweating bullets.”
Caleb forces a laugh, teeth clenched. “Yeah, just hot in this jacket.”
The tingle turns into heat. A slow, syrupy, pooling right behind his balls. His cock twitches once, then again, harder, like someone just wrapped a fist around it and squeezed.
He locks his knees to keep from swaying.
The sensation climbs. Something slick and impossibly tight slides down his shaft, inch by inch, swallowing him whole. His breath stutters. The wet spot blooming at the front of his dress pants is impossible to hide now; he angles his body behind the guy in front of him, praying nobody notices.
Another squeeze. A rhythmic drag. Something soft and spongy kissing the tip over and over and over.
His vision whites out for half a second. He breaks formation without permission, muttering a choked “bathroom” to Gideon’s startled face, and bolts.
He barely makes it to the nearest restroom, slamming the lock, back hitting the door as his trembling fingers rip his belt open. The second his cock springs free it’s flushed angry red, leaking like a faucet, veins bulging exactly the way you spent hours customizing.
He doesn’t even touch himself.
He doesn’t have to.
The feeling slams into him again: tight, wet heat clenching around him, riding him hard, fast, merciless. Invisible hips slam down, grind, pull up, slam down again. His balls draw up so tight it hurts.
“F-fuck—!” The moan tears out of him; he slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes rolling back, hips jerking into empty air like he’s fucking someone bent over the sink in front of him.
Every thrust feels real. Too real. He can feel slick walls fluttering, a cervix nudging the head on every brutal stroke, the phantom slap of skin on skin he’s never actually heard but somehow knows by heart.
His knees buckle. He grips the porcelain with white knuckles, forehead pressed to the cool mirror, panting like he’s running a marathon.
“Ah—shit—stop—please—” he doesn’t even know who he’s begging.
The pace only gets rougher.
He comes without warning, a broken cry muffled against his own arm, thick ropes painting the sink, the mirror, his dress shirt. His cock jerks and jerks like it’s being milked by a throat, a pussy, something greedy and possessive and familiar.
The orgasm doesn’t stop. It rolls straight into another, smaller but sharper, and his legs finally give out. He slides down the door until he’s sitting on the cold tile, cock still half-hard, twitching with aftershocks, cum dripping down his fist even though he never stroked himself once.
Chest heaving, he stares at the mess in dazed horror. “What the fuck was that…?”
Three hundred miles away, you’re still sprawled on your bedroom floor, impaled on the toy, whispering his name like a prayer while it throbs inside you.
Neither of you has any idea the link goes both ways. Yet.
Every night for the past ten days it’s the same ritual.
You stumble through the door still in your sweat-drenched hunter uniform, kick off your boots, and don’t even bother with the lights. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, clothes hit the floor in a frantic trail. You’re already soaked before you even touch the toy, thighs slick, pussy throbbing like it’s been counting the hours until you get home to it.
You keep the dildo in the top drawer now, wrapped in one of Caleb’s old flight academy T-shirts like a dirty little secret. The moment your fingers close around the warm shaft it pulses, eager, like it missed you just as badly.
And three hundred miles away, Caleb starts sweating through whatever he’s doing.
Day 4
You ride it reverse on the desk chair, feet planted wide, rolling your hips slow and deep just to feel every vein drag inside you.
In Skyhaven, Caleb drops an entire tray of coffee in the cadet mess, doubles over the table with a choked gasp, thighs clamping together while his cock leaks helplessly into his boxers. Gideon has to drag him out by the elbow while Caleb stammers something about food poisoning.
Day 6
You’re on your knees in the shower, toy suction-cupped to the tile, slamming back onto it until your ass is red and the water runs cold.
Caleb’s in the middle of a night-flight simulator run. Mid-loop his whole body locks up; he yanks the stick too hard, fails the exercise, and spends ten minutes curled in the cockpit seat coming untouched while the instructor screams over the headset.
Day 8
You can’t wait anymore the second you get home. You don’t even make it to the bedroom. You drop onto the hallway floor, legs over your head, fucking yourself with both holes now—the replica so slick from your pussy it slides into your ass easy. You scream his name until your voice cracks.
Caleb’s in the barracks laundry room folding clothes. One second he’s fine, the next he’s on the floor, biting his own forearm to stay quiet while his cock jerks and feels violated by invisible forces. He comes so hard his vision blacks out. When he can move again he finds the crotch of his pants soaked front and back and has no explanation.
Day 10
You’re greedy. You strap the toy to a pillow, mount it like you’re riding him for real, hands braced on the headboard, hips snapping down so hard the bedframe slams the wall in rhythm.
“Gege—fuck—harder—please, I need—”
You sob it into the dark, tears streaking your cheeks, pussy gushing all over the silicone balls.
In Skyhaven, Caleb is supposed to be asleep. Instead he jerks awake in his bunk with a wounded sound, sheets twisted around his hips, cock so hard it hurts. The sensation hits like a punch: tight, wet heat swallowing him to the root, grinding, milking. Something inside him —his ass—clenches around nothing and everything at once. He shoves his face into his pillow and comes instantly, whole body convulsing, biting down so hard he tastes blood.
When it finally fades he’s shaking, drenched in sweat, heart hammering like he just ran ten miles.
He drags a trembling hand down his stomach and finds his cock still-hard cock slick with his own release and something else—slicker, warmer, smelling faintly smelling like you.
For the first time, real fear cuts through the haze. Because whatever is doing this to him isn’t random. And it’s getting stronger every night.
Caleb hasn’t slept properly in twelve days. Every night the “ghost” comes back. Every night it rides him harder, tighter, wetter, like it’s learning exactly how to unravel him.
He’s stopped trying to fight it. He just locks his door, shoves his face into his pillow, and lets the phantom cunt milk him dry while his cock leaks and his ass clenches around nothing and his brain short-circuits with the same voice that’s haunted him since puberty.
Your voice.
He’s started jerking off to the memory of it in the showers, biting his own fist so his bunkmates don’t hear him whimpering “pipsqueak” like a prayer.
He’s losing his fucking mind.
So when he’s alone in the dorm common room at 0300, half delirious, cock still half-hard from another unsolicited orgasm, he does the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life.
He googles the symptoms.
Ends up on the same neon-pink, virus-looking website you found weeks ago.
The banner screams: FEEL LIKE SOMEONE YOU LOVE — NOW WITH REVERSE SYNC!
He doesn’t read the fine print. He’s too tired, too desperate, too turned on.
He uploads the clearest photo he has of you—last summer, you in that sundress, laughing at something he said, hair sticking to your sweaty neck.
He customizes everything with shaking hands,outer lips soft and plump, exactly the way he’s imagined a thousand times when you walked around the house in tiny sleep shorts. Inner walls textured like crushed velvet, tight at the entrance, then fluttering deeper. Clit hood pronounced, sensitive node swollen —because he’s spent years pretending he doesn’t notice how you squirm when he hugs you too long enough. Warmth setting: “always soaked, like she’s been thinking about you all day.” Scent module: the exact peach-and-vanilla body wash you’ve used since you were fifteen.
He pays triple for overnight shipping. The box arrives two days later while the entire barracks is out on a weekend training hike. Caleb locks himself in his room, heart hammering like a jet engine.
He tears the packaging open with his teeth. Inside, nestled in black satin, is the prettiest pocket pussy he’s ever seen.
Soft, dusky outer lips, flushed pink inside, already glistening with the self-lubricating gel. It’s warm to the touch, pulsing faintly like it’s breathing.
He exhales a broken “fuck… so pretty…” and runs two fingers down the seam, parting the lips gently. The toy quivers. A bead of lube rolls out like it’s already wet for him.
He doesn’t make it to the bed.
He drops into his desk chair, sweatpants shoved down to his hips, cock springing out thick and flushed and already dripping. He drags the head through the slick folds once, twice, coating himself, groaning at how realistic it feels.
Then he pushes in.
The sound that rips out of him is inhuman.
Tight, hot, velvet walls clamp down instantly, sucking him deeper like they’ve been waiting years. The inner texture ripples around his shaft exactly the way he’s fantasized your pussy would—fluttering, squeezing, dragging over every vein.
He bottoms out in one brutal thrust and his vision whites out.
“Fuck—pipsqueak—” he chokes, hips jerking helplessly. “Is this how you’re supposed to feel? So good—so fucking real—”
He starts slow, savoring it, pulling out until just the tip kisses the entrance, then sliding back in with a wet squelch that makes his balls draw up tight. The toy makes obscene sounds—soft, wet, exactly like a real cunt taking cock—and every noise goes straight to his spine.
He loses control fast.
Hands gripping the desk, he starts pounding into it like he hates it, like he loves it, hips snapping hard enough to rattle the chair. The pocket pussy sucks him back in on every stroke, walls fluttering wildly, clit hood bumping his pelvis on the downstroke.
“Take it—just like that—fuck, you’re so tight for me—”
He doesn’t notice the way the toy seems to clench harder when he says your nickname. Doesn’t notice the way it gushes fresh slick every time he groans “good girl” under his breath.
Three hundred miles away, you’re in the middle of a lecture at the Hunter Academy when your body suddenly locks up. A phantom cock—thick, burning hot, veiny—slides into you from nowhere. Your pen clatters to the desk. You slap both hands over your mouth to stifle a scream as invisible hips slam forward and bury something huge to the hilt inside you.
Your pussy spasms around empty air. Your clit throbs like someone’s grinding against it. Your chair creaks as your thighs snap together, trying to trap the sensation that isn’t there and is there all at once.
The “ghost” fucks you right there in the lecture hall, in front of thirty other cadets, relentless and deep and merciless.
You cum biting your own wrist so hard you leave teeth marks, tears streaming down your face, soaking through your panties and the seat beneath you while the professor drones on about wanderer migration patterns.
Back in Skyhaven, Caleb’s losing his mind in a different way.
He’s hunched over the desk now, one hand braced, the other brutally fucking the toy up and down his cock, chasing the edge.
“Gonna—fuck—gonna fill you up, pipsqueak—take every drop—”
He comes with a guttural shout, hips stuttering, cock pulsing so hard the toy overflows. Thick ropes of cum spill out around his shaft, dripping down the silicone lips, painting his fist, the desk, his thighs.
The pocket pussy keeps milking him through it, walls fluttering like it’s trying to drain him completely.
He slumps forward, forehead pressed to the cool wood, panting like he’s run a marathon.
The toy gives one last gentle squeeze… almost affectionate.
And somewhere far away, you’re curled in the academy bathroom stall, legs shaking, pussy still twitching with aftershocks, a flood of cum you didn’t make leaking out of you in thick, warm pulses.
You both whisper the same thing at the exact same second, voices hoarse and wrecked and terrified,“What the fuck is happening to me?”
—
—
The entire summer break is a slow-motion torture.
You arrive at Bloomshore first, two hours early because the Academy let out sooner than DAA. Grandma hugs you so hard your ribs creak, pinches your cheeks, stuffs you full of peach cobbler and gossip. The childhood house smells exactly the same: sun-warmed wood, sea-salt breeze, the faint lavender sachets she still keeps in every drawer. Your old bedroom is untouched, posters curling at the corners, the same twin bed you used to share with Caleb when thunderstorms scared you.
You dump your suitcase, unzip it, and there it is: the dildo, wrapped in one of his old flight-school hoodies like contraband. It’s been two days since you last used it and your body is already twitching, thighs pressing together every time you remember how it feels.
You shove it under the mattress and try to be normal. Then the front door opens downstairs and you hear his voice.
“Gran squeals, “Caleb, my handsome boy!”
You freeze halfway down the stairs.
He’s… bigger. Shoulders filling the doorway, hair longer and tousled from the wind, sunglasses hooked in the collar of a white T-shirt that clings to his chest. He’s grinning at Gran, but the same crooked smile that’s been haunting your wet dreams for months.
Then his eyes flick up and find you. “Hey, pipsqueak… and Gran.”
Your stomach flips so violently you almost trip on the last step. You launch yourself at him anyway, because that’s what you’ve always done. He catches you mid-jump like you weigh nothing, arms banding around your waist, laughing low in his chest as you collide.
“Yup, gege’s here. How’s my meimei doing in Linkon, hm?”
The second his palm settles on the back of your head, petting like when you were kids, every filthy memory slams into you at once—the toy stretching you open, the way you sobbed his name into your pillow, the phantom cum that leaked out of you for days afterward.
Your face ignites. You feel the heat of his body through his shirt, the flex of his biceps as he holds you, the faint cedar-and-jet-fuel scent that is just him. You jerk away like you’ve been electrocuted.
“Huh… me? …oh… uh… good! I’m doing… good!!!”
Your voice cracks on every syllable. You practically sprint past him, suitcase banging against your leg, and disappear into your room so fast you almost take out the coat rack.
Caleb stands there frozen, arms still half-raised, cheeks flushed crimson for reasons he refuses to examine.
Gran raises an eyebrow. “You two are acting mighty strange.”
He clears his throat, grabs his own duffel, and mutters something about needing a shower.
That night neither of you comes down for dinner.
You lie in your childhood bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck on the ceiling together when you were ten, thighs clenched so tight they ache. You can hear him moving around in the room next door, the creak of his old mattress, the low thud of his bag hitting the floor.
You wonder if he brought it too. You wonder if he’s touching it right now. Across the wall, Caleb is wondering the exact same thing about you.
Both toys are hidden under respective mattresses, pulsing faintly like they know they’re finally under the same roof as their match.
The air-conditioner rattles. Crickets hum outside. The house is asleep.
Neither of you sleeps a wink. And somewhere in the dark, two identical warming circuits kick on at the exact same moment, waiting for someone to break first.
The first night back home, the dam breaks at 2:17 AM.
You’ve been tossing in your childhood bed for hours, sheets tangled around your ankles, thighs slick and aching from the constant low thrum of need that started the second you heard his laugh downstairs. The house is silent except for the distant crash of waves on Bloomshore’s cliffs and the faint creak of floorboards in the next room.
He’s right there.
Walls so thin you can hear him breathing if you press your ear to the plaster.
And under your mattress, the toy waits, warm and heavy and calling to you like a siren.
You give in with a muffled curse, fishing it out, fingers trembling as you drag it between your legs. No prep. No teasing. You’re already dripping, have been since that hug, so you just line up the fat head and sink down in one brutal slide.
The stretch is immediate and vicious, your pussy clenching around silicone veins like it’s starving. You bite your pillow to stifle the moan, hips rocking slow at first, savoring the drag, the way it kisses your cervix on every grind.
In the next room, Caleb jolts awake with a strangled gasp.
His cock—already half-hard from dreams of you—suddenly feels like it’s being strangled in velvet. Tighter than ever. Hotter. Wetter. The phantom walls clamp down so hard his vision spots, every ridge and flutter magnified tenfold, like whatever’s fucking him is twice as desperate tonight.
He scrambles for his duffel under the bed, yanking out the pocket pussy with shaking hands. No way he’s enduring this alone. He shoves his boxers down, spits into the toy’s slick entrance, and thrusts in without mercy.
The second he bottoms out, you scream into your sheets.
It’s like a second cock slams into you alongside the first—thicker, hotter, splitting you open from the inside. Your walls flutter wildly, stretched beyond reason, the dual sensations overlapping in a filthy symphony: the toy’s familiar curve grinding one spot while the phantom one drags against another, both pounding in perfect sync.
“F-fuck—gege—what—” you whimper, confused and wrecked, hips jerking up to meet nothing and everything. Your clit throbs like it’s being sucked, your ass clenches around air that feels full. You shove the dildo deeper, faster, chasing the burn, tears leaking down your cheeks as your body tries to process being double-fucked by ghosts.
Caleb’s teeth sink into his own bicep to keep from roaring loud enough to wake Grandma.
The toy is a vice. His cock feels like it’s being crushed in the best way—walls so tight they might snap him in half, rippling and milking with every brutal thrust. It’s wetter than before, slick gushing out around his shaft like the thing is coming alive, and every time he pulls back it sucks him in harder, deeper, the inner texture fluttering like a heartbeat.
“Pipsqueak—shit—too tight—gonna break me—” he growls through clenched teeth, one hand braced on the headboard, the other fucking the toy up and down his length so fast his arm burns. His balls slap against silicone with every snap, heavy and aching, the pressure building so intense he’s terrified he’ll black out.
You both lose track of time, separated by one flimsy wall, fucking your toys in frantic rhythm without knowing you’re fucking each other.
For you, it’s endless—the dildo splitting your pussy while the invisible cock mirrors every move, stretching you to your limits, making you gush so hard the sheets are soaked beneath your ass. You come once with a muffled sob, clenching around both, but it doesn’t stop—the sensations only amp up, phantom veins dragging inside you, a second head nudging spots that make your toes curl.
“More—gege, please—fill me up—” you beg the dark, fingers flying to your clit, rubbing frantic circles while you slam the toy home again and again.
Caleb hears something—a faint, wrecked whine through the wall—and it snaps his last thread.
He flips onto his back, legs spread wide, and fucks into the pocket pussy like a man possessed. The tightness is agonizing now, walls constricting so hard around his cock he swears it’s going to cut off circulation—hot, pulsing, fluttering like it’s alive and greedy and his. Every thrust sends sparks up his spine; his free hand claws at the sheets, hips bucking off the mattress.
“Take it—fuck, just like that—my good girl—” he rasps, voice hoarse, imagining your face, your body, the way you’d look split open on him for real.
The orgasm hits you both at the same instant.
You arch off the bed with a silent scream, pussy spasming around double fullness, squirting in thick arcs that drench your thighs and the toy. The phantom cum floods you—hot, thick, endless—leaking out around the dildo, pooling between your legs, making everything slicker, messier.
Caleb comes with a guttural “fuck—pipsqueak—” bitten off against his fist, cock jerking so hard the toy overflows instantly. Cum spills everywhere—his stomach, the sheets, the silicone lips stretched thin around him—but the walls keep milking, squeezing tighter than humanly possible, wringing every drop until his balls ache and his vision tunnels.
You both collapse in sweaty, trembling heaps, toys still buried deep, aftershocks rippling through you like shared electricity.
The wall between your rooms might as well not exist.
But neither of you moves. Neither knocks. Neither dares whisper the truth.
Instead, you pull the covers over your ruined body, the dildo still twitching faintly inside you, and pretend your heart isn’t pounding loud enough for him to hear.
Next door, Caleb does the exact same, cock softening in the vice-grip of the toy, a single thought looping in his wrecked mind,
some of the kickstarters have started arriving (not mine lol) and people (@goldenjellyfish12) have been very kindly taking photos of it so we can all read it! I just reblogged her masterlist, and as of right now she only has one last story to upload!! :)
He worked hard to be a cardiac surgeon just to treat your heart condition—what makes you think his money is where he draws the line? He’d just finished his second surgery today, a CABG that took 6 hours, and the first thing he sees on his phone is a text message from you.
“Hey, Zayne. Do you prefer spicy or not spicy soup? I’m at the store to buy the ingredients!”
He smiles, already imagining you waiting for him while cooking.
He replies, “Spicy is fine, I placed my card on the back of your phone. Be safe.”
Just as he placed the phone down, it beeps again from your text.
“It’s fine, I bought my card with me. And it’s just groceries, I can handle it.”
His brow furrows as he noisily types to call your phone, “I gave it to you with the intention that you’ll use it whenever you need. It doesn’t matter if it’s just groceri—”
“Okay! Okay, I’ll use it, alright? Since you insist, I’m buying these expensive lotions I’d been eyeing on.”
He sighs, “If you’re gonna buy those lotions, the least you can do is buy me those hard candy, that blueberry cheesecake we always buy, and those lollipo—”
“I’m getting you ONE pack of candies.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Caleb
This man would be crashing out if he can’t provide for you. He even gets upset when you don’t need his help in getting things from the top shelf. Here he was with a smug smile on his face while handing you his card,
“Use it whenever you need to, pips. Rest assured it won’t ever maxed out.”
That smirk was so irritating that you wanted to wipe it off his face.
“Mhm? Why do I need to? I get payed just fine! And it’s not like other people don’t pay for me.”
“Huh?”
God, that dumbfounded look was just so satisfying to see. Of course, with Caleb paying for whatever you need almost all his life, you weren’t gonna turn down his offer.
He flicks your forehead, “You don’t even need other people’s money. And they don’t treat you always! Just use mine and you can use it endlessly.”
He’s looking at you with his signature puppy eyes and you know you just lost.
Sighing, you take his card, “Fine, and I better not hear any complaints from you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Sylus
You knew this man doesn’t care even if you spent billions of his money—he literally let you spend more than 10 million a few days after you met. It’s not like you had a problem with spending his money (you don’t); it’s just nice to tease him every now and then, even if it backfires on you most of the time.
You were in the middle of a date when you decided to mess with him.
“Sy, does it taste good?”
He hums, “It tastes quite nice. You always pick the right places, sweetie.”
You smile, “Of course! Since I’m paying, it should be worth it.”
He freezes mid-bite and places his spoon down, “Are you now? If I may say, the soup was quite salty, the pasta lacked flavor, and the tiramisu was just an abomination.”
You smack his arm, “Hey! You said it was nice!”
He smirks, “I’ll pay for it, sweetie, since it wasn’t worth it,” already reaching for his wallet.
Why do you even try?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Rafayel
“Baby, do you think this looks nice?” You gave your phone to Rafayel so he can see the sweater that you wanted. He shrugs, “It’s cute, perfect for rainy days.” You smile, proceeding to check out the sweater, “It’s 115 dollars, it’ll be delivered by next week!” He slowly turns his head, “Next week?" “Yeah!”
He slowly walks toward you and grabs you by the shoulders, “Cutie, did you already pay for it?”
You nod, “Yeah, why? Did you want one too?”
His shoulders slumped as he dramatically flings his arm around, “What?! Since when did you pay for your things? I’m transferring that money to your card.”
You lightly punch his shoulder, “Ayel! There’s no need, I have my own money.”
He raises his eyebrow, “And? I’m still wiring you that money.”
You try to argue, but he’s already tip-tapping away on his phone.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Xavier
“Xavi, what do you want for dinner?” You climbed on the couch and laid on his lap while fumbling on your phone. He shrugs, “Anything is fine.” You poke his cheek, “I’m too lazy to cook, do you want takeout?” He ponders for a moment, “Takeout is fine, I can cook too.” He says, already standing up to head to the kitchen when you quickly sit up, “Takeout it is!”
“How much is it?” He grabs your hand to play with the sleeves of your sweater. “It’s fine, I already payed for it!” His hand stops, and he slowly looks at you. His brows furrow and his lips form into a pout, without saying anything, he smooshes your face in his hands. “Don’t.”
Edited in October 2024:
Cassie has compiled a lot of the bonus content in different PDFs, you can find them here, but please be aware that you have to be a newsletter subscriber to have access to these files.
This list is still a WIP, but I’m doing my best to update everything! Since some content is exclusive and even Cassie hasn’t shared it yet, I also won’t share it here. I’ve still listed it and I’m sure you’ll find it elsewhere. :)
The Mortal Instruments
City of Bones (27 March 2007)
Not For Humans (crossover between Holly Black’s Modern Faerie Tale series and The Shadowhunter Chronicles, set before City of Bones)
Awake (Jace meets Clary for the first time from Isabelle’s POV): part of We Jace You A Clary Christmas (PDF)
Original prologue from Jace’s POV
Magnus’s Vow
Kissed: Magnus and Alec’s First Kiss
When Midnight Comes: Jace’s point of view of his first kiss with Clary: Part of We Jace You A Clary Christmas (PDF)
Official Clave files (City of Bones 10th anniversary edition): teaser
City of Ashes (25 March 2008)
Because It Is Bitter: The Seelie Court kiss from Jace’s POV: Part of We Jace You A Clary Christmas (PDF)
Deleted scene: Isabelle defends Jace
Deleted scene: Magnus explains the faerie world
City of Glass (24 March 2009)
Read the original first chapter of City of Glass
Chapter 2: The Demon Towers of Alicante*
Jace kisses Alec*
Chapter 7: Where Angels fear to tread*
Chapter 9: This guilty Blood*
Chapter 13: Where There Is Sorrow*
Manor scene: Jace’s POV: Part of We Jace You A Clary Christmas (PDF)
Jace’s letter to Clary
Chapter 20: Weighed in the Balance*
Jocelyn’s story
* Cut, deleted or changed
City of Fallen Angels (5 April 2011)
A story told in postcards
City of Lost Souls (8 May 2012)
A Question of Power
The Act of Falling
A Dark Transformation: Becoming Sebastian
Stephen’s letter to Jace
Deleted Malec scene
Deleted Jace scene
Deleted or cut scenes (including the cut DSCS)
City of Heavenly Fire (27 May 2014)
Inside jacket artwork
Uncut Clary and Jace cave scene
Deleted scene/comic: Magnus sends Emma and the Blackthorns back to Los Angeles
Comic strip scene “The Wedding” (exclusive to the UK edition)
Cut scene: Jonathan’s death
Letter from Faerie to Arthur Blackthorn
The Infernal Devices: Bonus content inside Life is a Book (PDF)
Clockwork Angel (31 August 2010)
On the Bridge: Will and Jem before Clockwork Angel: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Of Loss: Will’s perspective on his kiss with Tessa: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Why Will Hates Ducks: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Deleted scenes (Jem & Tessa on Blackfriars Bridge, Nate & Tessa, Will & Tessa): Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Tessa’s letter to Nate (exclusive to Illumicrate’s Clockwork Angel: 10th Anniversary Edition): Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Clockwork Prince (6 December 2012)
Will’s letter to his parents: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Burning Bright: Jem’s meeting with Tessa from his viewpoint: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Will’s love letter to Tessa (can also be read in Clockwork Princess)
An Offering of Moonlight: Jem’s Perspective on “Fierce Midnight”: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Deleted scenes: The Whole of It (Will tells Jem about his curse), Tessa and Jem: Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Clockwork Princess (19 March 2013)
Cut scene: Will and Jem
‘Will’s love letter to Tessa’
Carstairs, Herondale and Lightwood family tree (1831-2007), proceed with caution, because SPOILER this family tree is not correct
After the Bridge (Tessa & Jem with art by Cassandra Jean –> City of Heavenly Fire spoilers)
Will and Tessa comic from Cassandra Jean and Cassie
The Dark Artifices
Set before the books
Stars to Burn (Mark & Kieran, with art)
Lady Midnight (8 March 2016)
A Long Conversation (short story in some first editions of Lady Midnight, now an ebook): Part of We Jace You A Clary Christmas (PDF)
Cut scene: Julian
Unedited beach scene
Deleted scene: Emma and Cameron
Deleted scene: Emma, the Blackthorns and the Ashdowns
Deleted scene: Emma and the Blackthorns
Deleted scene: Emma, Clary and Church
Lord of Shadows (23 May 2017)
Cottage scene (Emma & Julian, with art)
Our Waking Souls (canon online short story about Clary & Jace, with art)
Deleted Jemma scene (exclusive to UK 5th anniversary edition)
Queen of Air and Darkness (4 December 2018)
Deleted prologue: pending
Cut Blackstairs scene (unedited)
Deleted Jemma scene
A Love That Never Tires (short story in some first editions of Queen of Air and Darkness, sequel to A Long Conversation): Part of We Jace You A Clary Christmas (PDF)
Kit’s letter to Jace (exclusive to UK 5th anniversary edition): teaser
The Eldest Curses
The Red Scrolls of Magic (9 April 2019)
Magnus’s letter to Alec (from City of Heavenly Fire, formerly exclusive content for Illumicrate & Good Choice Reading)
How Magnus met Catarina: Now a flashback scene in The Lost Book of the White
Deleted snippet (back then the book titles were different)
The Lost Book of The White (1 September 2020)
Edited scene from beginning of the book
In Dreams Begin (Jem and Tessa’s wedding)
Simon’s graduation party (exclusive to Waterstones, deleted scene): A Tale of Brunch (PDF)
The Last Hours
Set before the books
Chain of Gold Extra Content (flash fiction): Bonus content inside The Penultimate Hours (PDF)
The Devil Tavern
Days Past: Lucie and Cordelia
Days Past: Christopher
Cirenworth Hall
The City of Bones
Lucie and Ghosts
A Lightwood Christmas Carol, Part 1
A Lightwood Christmas Carol, Part 2
The Anniversary Party, Part 1
The Anniversary Party, Part 2
Chain of Gold (3 March 2020)
Deleted scene: Matthew
Wedding Invitation (exclusive to Good Choice Reading): Part of Life is a Book (PDF)
Fairy Tale of London: part of Life is a Book (PDF) and also Fairy Tale of London (PDF). You can see artwork from the short story here.
Lucie’s letter to Cordelia (exclusive to LitJoy Crate)
Ragnor’s letter to Magnus (exclusive to Waterstones rune edition)
The Whispering Room from James’s POV with art by Cassandra Jean
Chain of Iron (2 March 2021)
One Must Always Be Careful of Books (exclusive to first editions)
Fever (exclusive to Waterstones )
Matthew’s letter to James (exclusive to LitJoy Crate)
Chain of Thorns (31 January 2023)
Aught But Death (Lucie and Cordelia become parabatai): Aught But Death (PDF)
Matthew writes to James (exclusive to Waterstones)
Jesse writes to Lucie (exclusive to LitJoy Crate)
Deleted snippets: pending
Unidentified snippets
The bonus content is put under the book titles where you can find the extras in, e.g. The Act of Falling is set in City of Fallen Angels but you can find it in City of Lost Souls.
L&DS Future Lifetime Series - PART 6: CALEB & LILIAN - FINALE
Note: Please read Parts 1-5 before reading this!Unfortunately this fic cannot be read as a stand alone, as it needs context from the previous Parts.
READ HERE: MASTERLIST for PART 1-6
CALEB & LILIAN - PART 6: FINALE
Caleb X OC
Set in Future Timeline. All Love Interests have no memories of their past lives. All of the MCs(5 Sisters) all have memories of their past lives. Very persistent LIs. Avoidant MCs. Love at first sight. Soulmates.
Genre: Fluff
Caleb leaned back in the leather armchair in the living room of his sleek, modern home in Skyhaven, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling. His usually neat house felt smaller tonight, the weight of his own nerves pressing in on him.
Across from him, sprawled lazily on the couch, Sylus toyed with a whiskey glass, swirling the amber liquid like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Zayne sat more properly in the armchair opposite Caleb, ankle crossed neatly over his knee, a quiet smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
"So...." Sylus drawled, setting the glass down with a soft clink, "You're finally pulling the trigger."
Zayne's mouth twitched. "About time."
Caleb shot them both a look. "You two aren't helping."
Zayne crossed his arms. "Both Sylus and I are engaged. I heard from Jasmine that Rafayel and Xavier are engaged, too. We already suceeded, Caleb."
Sylus chuckled lowly. "We're just basking in the superiority."
Caleb groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I’m serious. I want it to be right. I want it to be memorable for her. Not just some grand show - something Lilian will actually love."
Zayne leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice softened, the teasing slipping away. "Then you already know the answer."
Caleb frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You're not planning a proposal for everyone else," Zayne said calmly. "You're planning it for her. Focus on what makes Lilian feel loved. Safe. Seen."
Sylus tapped a finger against the glass thoughtfully. "She's not the type for a glitter cannon or a flash mob."
"No," Caleb agreed immediately. "She'd hate that."
"Good." Sylus pointed at him, grinning. "See? You know her."
Zayne nodded once, approving. "What has she always trusted you with?"
Caleb thought for a long moment. Flying. Food. Quiet moments no one else bothered to notice.
He exhaled slowly, realization blooming inside him.
"I want to take her out flying, on my own plane," Caleb said finally, voice low but firm. "Make it unforgettable. Special."
Sylus grinned, leaning back lazily. "Now you're talking."
"And I don't want to just ask her," Caleb added. "I want it to feel like... like everything we've built together. Like she’s part of the adventure, not just a prize at the end."
Zayne smiled, small but sincere. "Then show her. Show her she's the reason you fly at all."
Caleb nodded, determination settling in his chest.
He would do it right.
For her.
Sylus clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make Caleb jolt. "She's already halfway yours."
"And the rest of her?" Caleb asked quietly.
Zayne’s expression warmed. "You already have that too. She just doesn't know it yet."
Caleb smiled slowly, heart steadying in his chest.
Yeah.
He could do this.
He would.
*****
The city lights blurred past the windows as Caleb drove, one hand steady on the wheel, the other reaching over to gently lace his fingers through Lilian’s.
She glanced at him, curious. "Where are we going?"
"You’ll see Pipsqueak..." Caleb said, voice warm.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t pull away. If anything, her hand squeezed his tighter.
When they pulled up to the private gates of Nexus Innovations’ executive airport, Lilian’s brows knit together.
"Caleb..." she said slowly. "Why are we at the hangars?"
He just smiled, hopping out and jogging around to her side of the car to open her door.
"Trust me?"
She sighed, half-exasperated, half-affectionate. "I always do."
The words hit him harder than he let show.
He tucked her hand into his arm and led her across the tarmac.
The night air was cool and crisp, smelling faintly of jet fuel and the ocean breeze sweeping in from the bay.
Far ahead, tucked away in the glow of the runway lights, one small plane stood ready - sleek, polished, with Caleb’s personal flight markings gleaming under the stars.
Lilian’s steps slowed. "Is that... your plane?"
"Yeah," Caleb said, glancing at her with a soft grin. "Figured if I was gonna steal you forever, I should at least do it in style."
Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled despite herself.
He helped her climb aboard, steadying her with a hand at her waist - a touch so familiar now, yet still enough to make her heart race.
Inside, the cockpit was simple and clean. Two seats, side by side.
Their seats.
Caleb pulled a small headset down for her, adjusting it carefully over her ears.
"You’re really going to fly us somewhere right now?" Lilian asked, half in disbelief, half laughing.
"Not far," he said, winking. "Just high enough."
Her brow furrowed in confusion.
Caleb settled into the pilot seat, his fingers moving quickly, competently, across the controls. The hum of the engine vibrated under their feet, alive and ready.
As they taxied toward the open runway, Caleb glanced over at her - and saw the exact moment her face softened.
This was his element. And he was sharing it with her.
With a low roar, the small plane lifted into the night sky, climbing higher and higher, stars sprawling endlessly above them.
And then,as they leveled out over the glittering coastline...
Caleb flipped a small, inconspicuous switch near his seat.
From the back of the plane, a thin, white stream of smoke began to pour, trailing through the sky.
Lilian gasped softly, craning her neck to the side window.
Slowly, carefully, Caleb guided the plane into wide, graceful loops - spelling out words against the canvas of stars.
First a W.
Then an I.
Another L.
Another L...
Her hands flew to her mouth as realization dawned.
"Caleb," she whispered, tears already threatening.
He didn’t answer. Not yet.
Instead, as the words "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" painted themselves across the night sky, Caleb throttled back gently, steering them into a slow glide.
He landed the plane with careful ease.
He unbuckled quickly, turned toward her - and without hesitation, he dropped to one knee in the cramped little cockpit space.
"Lilian Kingsley," he said, voice rough and shaking with feeling,
"You are my everything.
The reason I fly.
The reason I breathe.
You made me want more out of life than I ever thought I deserved.
And if you’ll let me...
I want to spend every single day making sure you know just how loved you are."
He pulled out a small, velvet box.
Inside gleamed a diamond ring - delicate, brilliant, the band shaped subtly like a pair of winged accents curling together.
A ring with a plane engraved.
Her ring.
Lilian’s hands trembled as she stared at him, at the ring, at the sky outside.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You idiot...." she choked, laughing through her tears. "You crazy, wonderful idiot...."
Caleb smiled crookedly, heart in his throat.
"Is that a yes, Pipsqueak?"
She launched herself at him, nearly knocking him over, sobbing and laughing all at once.
"Yes!" she cried. "Of course it’s yes!"
He caught her easily, cradling her against him, kissing her fiercely - her hair, her forehead, her lips - like he couldn’t get close enough fast enough.
Up above, the sky blazed with their promise.
And somewhere around them, some of Nexus Innovations’ staff - who had trickled outside, alerted by the aerial display - burst into spontaneous applause.
Caleb didn’t even notice.
All he cared about was the woman in his arms, the feel of her laughing against him, the sound of her whispering over and over into his neck:
"Thank you... thank you for always seeing me... for always loving me. For always doing so much for me. I swear to do the same for you for the rest of my life..."
He kissed her again, lifting her effortlessly into his arms and out of the plane, spinning her once with sheer, giddy joy in the hangar.
"You’re stuck with me now," he murmured, grinning against her lips.
She smiled through her tears, brushing her forehead against his.
"Good," Lilian whispered. "Because I don’t ever want to be anywhere else."
*****
Lilian still hadn’t stopped smiling.
As Caleb led her out of the hangar, she caught sight of the small crowd that had gathered near them - Nexus Innovations’ staff, clapping and cheering, some even whistling when Caleb carried Lilian effortlessly as they walked off.
He carried her the last few steps, ignoring her protests with a low laugh against her temple.
"Let me spoil you for once," he murmured.
Inside Caleb's executive lounge near the hangar, he set her down carefully onto one of the plush couches.
Lilian blinked at the sudden warmth of the cozy room - the low hum of the heater, the rich scent of fresh coffee someone had thoughtfully brewed.
"Stay right there," Caleb said firmly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "No moving."
She opened her mouth to argue but caught the glint in his eye - stubborn, playful, protective - and sank back with a soft laugh.
He disappeared into the small kitchen attached to the lounge, sleeves pushed up, moving easily through the cabinets.
A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming plate - a makeshift meal of buttery scrambled eggs, toasted croissants he’d found in the mini-fridge, and fresh berries arranged neatly on the side.
Lilian stared at it, then at him.
"You cooked?" she said, half-laughing, half-incredulous.
Caleb knelt in front of her, balancing the plate carefully on his knee.
"Made with these hands," he said solemnly, wiggling his fingers at her. "Michelin star pending."
Lilian giggled and picked up a croissant, taking a bite, then groaned.
"This is illegal," she mumbled through the mouthful. "You’re not allowed to be good at everything."
He just watched her, a soft, boyish grin tugging at his mouth.
As she ate, he pulled a small travel-sized brush from his jacket - one he always carried for her, knowing how tangled her hair got when they traveled.
Without a word, Caleb moved behind her, settling onto the couch, gently gathering her long hair into his hands.
The first slow, careful strokes of the brush through her hair made Lilian go still.
"You don’t have to," she whispered.
"I want to," he murmured back, voice low. "Always."
He brushed her hair slowly, methodically, like it was something sacred.
Untangling every knot with patient fingers, smoothing it down over her shoulders until it gleamed under the soft lighting.
Every so often, he leaned forward to kiss the top of her head, murmuring little things into her hair:
"You’re so beautiful."
"I still can’t believe you said yes."
"I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of my life, Lil."
And Lilian just sat there, blinking back fresh tears, feeling absolutely, utterly loved.
When he finally set the brush aside, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest.
They stayed like that for a long time, the world outside forgotten, the hum of the heater and the quiet beat of their hearts filling the room.
Finally, Caleb whispered against her ear, "You tired, Pipsqueak?"
She nodded sleepily.
"Good," he said, tightening his arms around her. "Because I’m not letting you go tonight."
"You’re clingy," she teased, smiling lazily.
"And you’re mine." he whispered back.
For once, Lilian didn’t tease him.
She simply turned in his arms, tucked her head under his chin, and closed her eyes - knowing, without a doubt, she was exactly where she was always meant to be.
*****
*A Few Days Later*
The morning light crept through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Caleb’s house, gilding the sleek surfaces and plush furnishings in soft gold.
On the oversized bed, Lilian stirred under the covers, blinking blearily as she became aware of two things at once:
First, the smell of something delicious wafting from downstairs.
Second, the empty space beside her.
She sat up, rubbing at her eyes.
"Caleb?" she called, voice raspy with sleep.
A moment later, he appeared in the doorway - wearing nothing but a plain white T-shirt and a pair of soft grey sweatpants, barefoot, hair deliciously messy.
He was holding a tray.
"Good morning, future wife," he teased, grinning as he crossed the room.
Lilian’s cheeks flamed at the words.
"Hmph" she muttered, hiding under the covers.
"I know you’re hungry," Caleb said smugly, sitting beside her and pulling the covers back with ruthless affection. "Come on, Pipsqueak. Eat before I have to feed you like a baby bird."
"You wouldn't dare," she gasped, scandalized.
He winked.
"Try me."
Laughing, Lilian sat up properly, and then froze when she saw the tray.
There were two perfect apple tarts on it, still warm and golden.
A neat omelette shaped like a little heart.
And a mug of coffee, just the way she liked it - extra cream, barely any sugar.
"You made me tarts?" she said, voice wobbling slightly.
"I'll make you a thousand," Caleb said simply, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Anything you want, Lil. Always."
Her throat tightened painfully, emotion bubbling up before she could stop it.
She reached for the tart, breaking off a piece - and then impulsively held it up to Caleb’s lips.
He accepted it with a mock-serious look, pretending to savor it like a gourmet critic.
"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "Not bad. Could use more love."
Lilian snorted, nearly choking on her coffee.
"You’re such a sap," she laughed.
He only shrugged, looking utterly handsome.
"I like being a sap. Especially for you."
She shook her head, cheeks hurting from smiling.
"You know," she said, nibbling at the tart, "most men wouldn't be caught dead brushing their fiancee’s hair, cooking her breakfast, and baking her desserts."
Caleb leaned in, brushing a crumb from the corner of her mouth with his thumb - his touch achingly gentle.
"I’m not most men," he murmured.
And of course Lilian knew that. After all, he was like this is their past life too - before things ended tragically.
She shook her head. That doesn't matter anymore.
Caleb was here now - no horrid Toring Chip implanted in his brain.
This was her Caleb.
He pulled her closer until she was straddling his lap, her tiny frame curled against his chest.
He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks - tiny, worshipping kisses - making her giggle helplessly between the soft brushes of his mouth.
"Caleb," she protested breathlessly, "you're smothering me...."
"Get used to it," he murmured against her skin. "You married a stage-five clinger, Pipsqueak."
"You proposed two days ago," she huffed. "You can’t call yourself my husband yet."
He gave her a devastatingly lazy grin, brushing his nose against hers.
"Technicality."
And when he kissed her again, slow, deep, thorough - Lilian thought she could stay in this moment forever.
The tray clattered somewhere beside them, abandoned, as Caleb wrapped his arms around her and rolled her gently onto the bed.
Food forgotten.
World forgotten.
Only the two of them, in their own small, perfect universe.
L&DS Future Lifetime Series - PART 6: RAFAYEL & NERISSA - FINALE
Note: Please read Parts 1-5 before reading this!Unfortunately this fic cannot be read as a stand alone, as it needs context from the previous Parts.
READ HERE: MASTERLIST for PART 1-6
RAFAYEL & NERISSA - PART 6: FINALE
RAFAYEL X OC
Set in Future Timeline. All Love Interests have no memories of their past lives. All of the MCs(5 Sisters) all have memories of their past lives. Very persistent LIs. Avoidant MCs. Love at first sight. Soulmates.
Genre: Fluff
It had been a week since Rafayel had brought Nerissa back to Isla Nerissa, the island he’d bought for her, as a gift to show her how serious he was.
The journey was simple, but the air around them was thick with anticipation. Nerissa, ever the skeptic, was unaware of his plans, caught up in their usual banter. But Rafayel could feel it: the change, the shift in the air. Everything felt… right.
As they stepped off the boat, Rafayel took her hand, his thumb brushing ever so gently over her soft skin. A flutter of nerves stirred in his chest, but he suppressed it, knowing this moment was everything he’d been building up to. No grand gestures. Just the two of them, standing on the edge of something precious, something beautiful.
Nerissa glanced around, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Back here again? Rafayel, if this is another one of your ‘surprise’ romantic setups, I might just toss you back into the ocean.”
Rafayel chuckled, his heart racing as he led her through the soft sand, their footsteps leaving brief imprints in the moonlit path. “I promise, no more....surprises,” he said, his voice light with playfulness. “This time, it’s different. I’m just showing you something.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” she teased, arching an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”
“Maybe,” he replied, a grin playing on his lips as he tightened his hold on her hand.
Nerissa smirked, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You know, I could’ve sworn you said you wouldn't suddenly bring me back here unless I asked you to. Guess your word means nothing?”
“It means everything,” Rafayel said, his voice dipping lower, quieter. “Except when it comes to you. With you, I’ll break all the rules.”
Nerissa paused for a bit as if she recalled something, then she simply laughed, rolling her eyes. “I think you just like being dramatic. You like all the theatrics, don't you?”
“And you’re impossible to resist,” Rafayel shot back, the playful tension between them making his heart race even faster.
They reached the coral pavilion nestled beneath towering trees, the moonlight filtering through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the ground. The world around them felt still, held in a breathless pause, as the gentle sound of the waves blended with the rustling of the leaves.
Rafayel turned to face her, his heart pounding in his chest.
This moment needed to be everything he’d planned. But more than that, it needed to show Nerissa that this wasn’t just a whim ....this was his truth. This was everything.
“I’ve brought you here before, Nerissa,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “But not like this.” He paused, taking in a breath, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “This island… it’s not just a place. It’s a part of me. And I want it to be part of you too....”
Nerissa’s teasing smile faltered, the playful spark in her eyes dimming just a little as she studied his face. “What are you getting at, Rafayel?”
He took another deep breath, the words hanging heavy on his tongue. There was no turning back now. “I know you don’t make it easy for anyone, and that’s one of the things I love about you. But I’m not asking you to make it easy for me. I’m asking you to trust me.”
Her gaze softened, the playfulness in her eyes replaced with something deeper, something more vulnerable. She folded her arms, leaning slightly against a stone pillar. “Trust you? You’re gonna have to do more than throw a fancy island at me to earn that.”
He chuckled softly, closing the distance between them. “I know. And I’m not expecting you to just hand over your heart. But what I am asking for… is a chance. A chance to spend the rest of my life showing you that I’m not going anywhere. That this,” he gestured around them, “this is only the start.”
Nerissa tilted her head, narrowing her eyes, preparing for the sharp retort she was known for. But this time, she paused. “Rafayel… are you trying to say something?”
“I...am,” he replied, his voice low, raw in a way that felt unfamiliar to him. “I love you, Nerissa. And I want to be with you, forever. I know we’ve had our fun this past week, our little banters, and we’ll have more. But I’d rather face it all with you than anyone else...."
He looked away from her, expression unreadable.
Then, he took both of her hands in his and looked her in the eye.
"Nerissa....will you marry me?”
The silence that followed was thick, hanging in the air like the calm before a storm. Rafayel watched her, the moonlight casting soft shadows across her face, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for her answer.
Nerissa didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she stepped forward, giving him a playful slap on the arm, her expression teasing but tinged with something else. “You’re really crazy, you know that?” she said, her voice a mix of affection and mock frustration.
“Hey! I was serious,” he protested, pouting just enough for her to see the genuine emotion behind his usual bravado.
“Oh, I know you were,” Nerissa replied knowingly, her voice softening with affection as she regarded him. Her smile stretched, teasing but warm. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” She smiled fondly at him.
Her eyes met his, and in that moment, Rafayel realized she wasn’t teasing anymore. This was real. This was her. And this moment - Nerissa.....His Nerissa - was everything.
“And you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you going to throw me in the ocean or say yes?”
Nerissa’s gaze softened, a warmth spreading in her eyes. She stepped closer, her hand cupping his face as she stared into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Rafayel. Not now. Not ever.”
With those words, the weight in Rafayel’s chest lifted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt more certain than ever before.
She was his.
And he was hers.
He couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face, the relief and joy pouring out of him in one glorious, uncontrollable rush. “You really mean that?” he asked, blinking as if struck speechless, his gaze softening with disbelief.
Nerissa rolled her eyes, but the tenderness in her smile couldn’t be hidden. “What do you think, Rafayel? If I wanted to bail, I would’ve done it already.” She placed her hands on her hips, her voice teasing but full of warmth. “I might give you hell, but I’m not stupid enough to walk away from the best thing I’ve ever had.”
Rafayel chuckled, taking a step closer to her, his heart soaring with every beat. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either.” He took her hand, pulling her gently toward him. “And you know I’m not great with words.....but I need you to understand how much I love you. It’s beyond anything I ever expected.”
His thumb traced the back of her hand, soft and lingering, before he dropped to one knee. Nerissa’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with surprise. Despite their teasing, despite their sarcasm, this moment was real, raw, and it hit her like a wave.
Rafayel, her Rafayel, the man who’d given her an island, who had chosen her instead of Lemuria, his homeland in a past life, who’d been there for her in ways no one else ever had during her darkest times in those past lives, was kneeling before her, offering his heart.
Again.
“Rafayel…” Her voice trembled, but there was no hiding the emotion behind it.
He pulled out a gold ring, set with a blue diamond that sparkled under the moonlight, reflecting the ocean’s depths - mysterious, endless, and unyielding. “I made this, myself. I don’t need to promise you the world, Nerissa,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside. “You already have it.” He held her gaze, unwavering. “I just want to give you my heart. Forever. So, will you marry me?”
The breeze played with her hair, the waves rising and falling like a heartbeat in the background. Nerissa looked down at the ring, then back up at him, her heart swelling with emotions she could no longer hold back. Her eyes shimmered with the trust they’d built, and with a slow, steady smile, she whispered, “Yes, Rafayel. I’ll marry you.”
The words hung in the air, a weight and a promise that made the world around them feel like it ceased to exist. No more holding back. No sarcasm. Just them - two souls, intertwined by fate, bound by love.
Rafayel’s grin spread across his face, not cocky, not in his usual way, but soft - filled with the certainty of everything they’d just shared. “You’re sure?” he asked, voice low and tender, a laugh escaping him despite the emotion he felt. “No takebacks?”
Nerissa laughed, her hand caressing his cheek. “I was gonna make you sweat it out, but I figured… you’ve suffered enough already.”
She leaned down, cupping his face in both hands, and kissed him deeply. It wasn’t just a kiss - it was a bond, a promise, a moment that sealed everything between them. Rafayel felt as if the entire ocean could have swallowed them whole, and he wouldn’t have cared, because Nerissa was his, and he was hers.
When they finally pulled apart, Rafayel’s hands stayed on her waist, unwilling to let go. He smiled up at her, voice thick with emotion, though still carrying that playful edge. “Well, now you’re stuck with me forever. No turning back now, Cutie.”
Nerissa grinned down at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Like I’d want to turn back. You’re stuck with me, too.”
Rafayel’s heart soared, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care how silly he looked when he pulled her tightly against him, holding her as if the world might collapse if he didn’t. It wasn’t about the island or the ring. It was about her. It was about them.
“Forever,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll spend every day proving it to you. Every single day.”
Nerissa smiled, her eyes warm and filled with the same quiet certainty. “I know you will, Rafayel,” she whispered back, her voice the softest promise of all.
L&DS Future Lifetime Series - PART 6: SYLUS & NYX - FINALE
Note: Please read Parts 1-5 before reading this!Unfortunately this fic cannot be read as a stand alone, as it needs context from the previous Parts.
READ HERE: MASTERLIST for PART 1-6
SYLUS & NYX - PART 6: FINALE
Sylus X OC
Set in Future Timeline. All Love Interests have no memories of their past lives. All of the MCs(5 Sisters) all have memories of their past lives. Very persistent LIs. Avoidant MCs. Love at first sight. Soulmates.
Genre: Fluff
The private rooftop garden Sylus had reserved glittered under elegant, scarlet fairy lights and the air smelled like the evening primroses that surrounded it.
No waiters hovered, and no strangers lurked.
Just an intimate table for two beneath a canopy of stars, Linkon's cityscape sprawled out below them like a conquered kingdom.
Sylus was adjusting the cuffs of his black dress shirt, and he glanced towards the entrance for the fifth time tonight.
His heart should not be hammering this hard for a woman who had practically threatened to gut him if he so much as used a pet name.
What was wrong with 'Kitten' anyway? They were adorable, and feisty. Sylus thought it suited her rather well.
The door opened and cut his train of thoughts.
The world stopped.
Nyx stepped into view, and Sylus nearly forgot how breathing worked.
A shining, fitted black dress clung to every lethal curve, delicate silver chains glinting at her throat. Her hair fell in loose, deliberate waves, framing a face too dangerous for heaven and too beautiful for hell.
She was temptation made flesh.
And she knew it.
Sylus kept his expression casual, though internally, it was carnage.
Gods, help him.
"You’re early," she said, arching a brow as she approached.
"You’re stunning," he answered, because anything less would have been blasphemy.
Nyx smiled tightly, clearly prepared for battle.
He held out her chair wordlessly, and after a pause, she accepted, settling into it with the fluid grace of a panther.
Sylus took his seat across from her, schooling his features into something calm.
"Wine?" he offered, lifting the bottle.
She gave a lazy nod, watching him like a cat watched a mouse.
Sylus poured her a glass, then one for himself, every movement deliberate, controlled - because if he let himself slip for even a second, he’d be across the table, devouring her.
And that wouldn’t do.
Not yet.
Nyx took a sip, eyes never leaving his face.
"Are you planning to wine and dine me into submission?"
"Sweetie," he drawled, ignoring her warning glare, "If you think I could ever dominate you with food and alcohol, you’re gravely underestimating yourself."
A reluctant flicker of amusement crossed her face.
"At least you're self-aware." She smirked.
Sylus leaned back, swirling his wine lazily.
"I'm aware of a lot of things. For instance-" he let his gaze sweep her slowly, shamelessly "-how goddamn difficult it's going to be to make it through this dinner without committing several felonies."
Nyx snorted, then coughed, startled at her own reaction.
"You’re insufferable."
"And yet," Sylus said lightly, "here you are."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Temporary insanity."
"Sure, Sweetie," he teased.
He caught the flicker of warning in her eyes, but this time she let it slide.
A small victory.
The courses came and went: light dishes Sylus had personally approved to keep the evening from feeling heavy or overwhelming.
Conversation circled safe topics at first: mutual acquaintances, Nexus gossip, trivial complaints about the city’s new security policies.
But every glance, every brush of fingers when a glass was passed, was soaked in a simmering heat neither could ignore.
And Gods, it was killing Sylus.
He watched her lips move as she spoke-sharp, clever words tumbling from that beautiful mouth-and all he could think about was tasting them.
Claiming them.
Claiming her.
His hands itched where they rested on the table, nails digging crescents into his palms.
Stay cool. Stay collected. Stay-
Nyx leaned forward slightly, and the neckline of her dress dipped just enough to expose a sliver more of skin.
Sylus' fists clenched under the table so hard he felt skin split.
Pain was good.
Pain kept him from ruining everything.
Nyx noticed, of course.
Of course she did.
A slow, wicked smile curved her lips.
"Something wrong, Sylus?" she purred, voice the embodiment of sin.
He inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing a grin.
"Not at all, Sweetie. Just... appreciating the view."
"You’re shameless."
"With you?" He lifted his glass in mock salute. "Absolutely."
For a heartbeat, real warmth flickered in her gaze.
And something else.
Something fragile.
She masked it quickly, straightening.
"I don't....like what's happening," she said bluntly.
"Then why are you here?"
Sylus set down his wine and leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, steady hum.
"Because when I'm with you, Sweetie, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Her breath hitched.
Tiny. Almost imperceptible.
But it was there.
He didn’t push.
He just let the truth of it settle between them like gravity.
Nyx fiddled with the stem of her glass, gaze darting away for the first time that evening.
Vulnerability cracked her armor.
And it was beautiful.
"You don’t know-," she said voice low, but then she bit her tongue. She avoided his gaze.
"I think know and understand enough," Sylus replied, just as quietly. "Enough to want more."
Nyx shook her head, a brittle laugh slipping out.
"You’re insane."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe. But at least I’m insane for the right woman."
Silence stretched between them.....thick, charged, full of everything unsaid.
Nyx leaned back, feigning nonchalance.
"You’re really bad at this, you know."
"Bad at what?" Sylus asked, cocking his head.
"This." She gestured between them, her bracelets catching the light. "Romantic crap. Sappy declarations. Fairytale endings."
Sylus' eyes softened.
"I’m not trying to give you a fairytale, Sweetie. I’m trying to give you something real."
Something flickered in her gaze. Panic. Hope. Longing.
She masked it with a smirk.
"And what if I don't want real?"
"You do," he said simply.
Her lips parted - whether in protest or admission, Sylus couldn’t tell.
He pressed, voice soft but unyielding:
"When was the last time someone asked you to just... exist? No armor. No walls. Just you?"
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
"I don't know how to do that...not anymore," she said, so quietly it almost hurt to hear.
"Then let me teach you." Sylus said, voice rough with emotion. "Let’s figure it out together."
Nyx stared at him, defenses crumbling in slow, painful inches.
"You’re serious," she whispered.
"As a goddamn heart attack."
For a long, breathless moment, she said nothing.
Then, finally, slowly, she leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, gaze locked to his.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Sylus."
He smiled....soft, real.
"I’ve never been afraid of danger. Especially not when it looks like you."
Another silence, this one different.
Not heavy, or wary. But hopeful.
Their hands found each other across the table. Tentative and searching....Fitting together.
Nyx’s fingers were cool, Sylus’ calloused and warm.
When their skin touched, it was like coming home.
Nyx exhaled shakily.
"You’re going to ruin me." She avoided his gaze again and stared into the distance, as if recalling memories from a past life.
Sylus smiled, thumb brushing the back of her hand.
"No, Sweetie," he said. "I’m going to love you."
And just like that, the dam broke.
Nyx surged up from her seat - and Sylus met her halfway across the table, their mouths crashing together in a kiss so raw, so hungry, it stole the very breath from his lungs.
Heat exploded between them, white-hot and reckless.
Sylus groaned low in his throat, his hands finding her waist, anchoring her to him.
Nyx’s nails scraped into his shoulders, dragging him closer, daring him to lose control.
He wanted to.
Gods, he wanted to.
But not yet.
Not tonight.
Tonight was for building, not breaking.
Still, when she whimpered softly against his mouth, Sylus very nearly lost every shred of restraint he'd fought to keep.
He pulled back slightly, panting, forehead resting against hers.
"Sweetie," he rasped, "if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret."
Nyx smirked, breathless and wrecked.
"Who says I’d regret it?"
Sylus laughed hoarsely, pressing a reverent kiss to her temple.
"Because you deserve more than a quick fumble in the middle of a rooftop garden."
She stiffened slightly - and Sylus immediately regretted how easily she'd braced, expecting rejection.
He cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"You deserve everything, Sweetie."
And tonight, he was going to prove it.
Patiently.
Sylus drew her back down to their table, hands never leaving her.
He pulled her chair close beside his, wrapping his arm around the back of it - around her - and for once, Nyx didn’t resist the closeness.
The city glittered below them. A thousand golden lights blinking like stars fallen to earth.
Sylus traced lazy, featherlight circles against her spine, and slowly, Nyx’s rigid posture softened against him.
"You don't have to keep pushing me away, Sweetie," he murmured.
She closed her eyes briefly, hiding a flicker of fear.
"I'm afraid...of losing myself to this again. I don't want to get hurt again..."
Sylus didn't pry. If someone broke her heart before, that person didn't matter anymore. He was the only one she needs now. "The let me show you something different."
She smiled a broken, brittle smile. "You're so damn persistent, Sylus."
"And youre damn feisty," he teased, nudging her shoulder with his. "But look at me. Still here."
Nyx turned her face towards him-really looked at him-and what she saw terrified her.
He wasn’t just infatuated.
He loved her.
Deeply.
Again.
A different lifetime and yet, their souls found each other again. As they always have.
The wicked sorceress and her fearsome dragon....
Her stubborn, persistent, stuck-up dragon...
Gods help her...
The facade she had on was breaking down.
After all, she loved him too. She always did.
"This scares me," she admitted, so quietly he almost missed.
Sylus’s breath caught. He leaned in, brushing the lightest kiss to the corner of her mouth.
"This scares me too, Sweetie," he whispered against her skin. "But it's the kind of fear that makes me want to run towards you, not away."
Nyx let out a shaky breath.
"You're too good at this," she said.
"I'm just being honest."
"Stop," she said, half-laughing, half-pleading.
"Never," he said, smiling against her cheek. "You deserve every word."
For a moment, she struggled with herself. Wrestled with the instinct to run-to armor up-to fight.
But Sylus was patient.
And very persistent. It was evident that he wasn't going to ever stop pursuing her.
And so, she surrendered.
"I don't want to be alone anymore," she whispered, voice cracking.
"You’re not," Sylus said simply. "Not anymore."
And then he kissed her again.
This time, it wasn’t fiery or desperate.
It was slow. Tender.
His mouth moved against hers with a reverence that made her heart ache, his hands cradling her like she was something precious.
Nyx melted into him, finally truly letting herself be held.
When they pulled apart, Sylus pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in.
"I have something for you," he said roughly.
She blinked up at him, dazed. "What?"
From his pocket, he pulled a small black velvet box.
Nyx stiffened instantly, eyes wide.
"Sylus..."
"Shh...," he said gently.
Carefully, he opened the box.
Inside, resting against the dark velvet, was a ring.
A rectangular-cut black diamond, gleaming with an almost mischievous light - bold, unapologetic, and utterly unique set upon a platinum ring.
Just like her.
Nyx stared at it, stunned speechless.
"You don't have to marry me immediately," Sylus said quietly. "Not yet. I know you need time." He paused and looked at her earnestly. "Be it days, months or years, I'll wait. Until you're ready."
He took her hand, turning it palm-down.
"This is a promise," he said. "A vow. That no matter how long it takes - no matter how many walls you put up - I’ll be right here waiting."
He slipped the ring onto her finger with infinite care.
"I love you, Sweetie," he said. "And I’m not going anywhere."
Nyx stared at the black diamond - at the man who had given it to her - feeling something fracture and heal inside her all at once.
Tears burned the back of her throat.
"You’re a crazy bastard," she whispered again, laughing through the sting.
"Maybe," Sylus said, grinning.
She shook her head, smiling so brightly it hurt.
"This is insanity..."
"And you’re mine..."
For a long moment, she just stared at him, heart hammering against her ribs.
Then, finally, finally, she closed her fingers around his.
"Okay," she whispered.
"Okay?" he asked, hope threading through his voice.
Nyx leaned in, brushing her lips over his.
"Okay," she repeated. "I’ll give you my heart, Sylus."
He smiled against her mouth, pulling her flush against him.
"And I’ll protect it with mine."
Nyx smirked through her tears, brushing her nose against his.
"And you can call me Kitten... just this once."
Sylus laughed, low and wrecked with relief.
"Only once?"
She kissed him again, fierce and full of promise.
"We’ll see...."
Above them, the stars spun wildly.
Below them, the city lights burned bright.
And between them, something even brighter was born.
L&DS Future Lifetime Series - PART 6: XAVIER & CELESTE - FINALE
Note: Please read Parts 1-5 before reading this!Unfortunately this fic cannot be read as a stand alone, as it needs context from the previous Parts.
READ HERE: MASTERLIST for PART 1-6
XAVIER & CELESTE - PART 6: FINALE
Xavier X OC
Set in Future Timeline. All Love Interests have no memories of their past lives. All of the MCs(5 Sisters) all have memories of their past lives. Very persistent LIs. Avoidant MCs. Love at first sight. Soulmates.
Genre: Fluff
On the night Celeste agreed to go on a date with him, Xavier didn’t waste a second.
He swiftly prepared all the arrangements.
When Celeste met him the next evening, she expected a modest dinner in a quiet, but fancy restaurant.
She definitely didn’t expect to find a sleek private jet waiting for her, the Kingsley estate grounds dusted in twilight gold.
Xavier was there, wearing exactly what she asked - a plain white button down shirt and khaki pants. He looked simple, understated yet still impossibly handsome.
He offered his hand, a small, princely smile tugging at his lips. "Do you trust me?"
Celeste hesitated, her instincts warring, but finally, slowly, she placed her hand in his.
"Just this once..." she murmured.
*****
The flight didn't take long.
The sky turned darker, the stars blinking to life around them. Celeste watched from her window. She was silent, thoughtful.
Where were they headed? She asked herself.
When they landed, they weren’t in any city, no crowds, no glittering towers.
Instead, a fancy car drove them out past quiet roads until they reached an open field - an endless meadow of colorful wildflowers under the starry night sky.
Philos' Royal Palace could be viewed from the horizon.
The wildflowers swayed in a lazy, tender breeze, and the full moon hung low and full above them, quiet and serene.
A small table was set up in the middle of the field. It was draped in a crisp white cloth, with a lovely simple dinner laid out for two.
Celeste stood still, stunned.
Xavier watched her carefully, his heart in his throat.
“You flew me across the world…” she whispered, her voice breaking just slightly, “for this?”
He stepped behind her, close but not crowding her. His voice was low, sincere.
"I would’ve flown to the edge of the world for just one night with you."
Celeste squeezed her eyes shut for a second, as if trying to hold back something - emotion, fear, hope.
Dinner was quiet, but not uncomfortable. They ate beneath the stars, the conversation light at first - books, old travels, music they both loved.
But, eventually, the night deepened, and so did their words.
Xavier reached across the table, gently covering her hand with his.
“Celeste," he asked quietly, "why do you keep running from me?"
She pulled her hand back slowly, wrapping her arms around herself.
Her voice, when it came, was brittle and raw.
"Because it’s easier to be alone than for either party to be hurt. I’m tired of hoping, only for it to be gone in the end. I’m scared of loving someone, because I'm afraid of losing them, or being the reason why they're suffering..."
She stared at the flowers brushing her ankles, unable to look at him.
"And someone like you...." she broke off, shaking her head. "Someone like you, the crown prince of Philos - with all the responsibilities you have to bear to lead a whole nation and its people, might realize eventually that I'm not worth the effort, not worth so much sacrifice..."
Xavier stood slowly, rounding the table. He knelt in the grass before her, patient, unwavering.
“Listen to me, Celeste.” His voice was low but firm, every word deliberate.
"I wouldn't cross the ocean for someone I could ever give up on. I didn’t fall in love with you because you were just beautiful. I fell for you because ever since the first night we met, both my heart and my soul chose you."
She shook her head, tears building despite herself.
"You.....don’t know how much damage love can do," she whispered.
"I do," he said softly. "And I would still choose you.....everytime."
He took her hands gently, as if she were the most precious thing he had ever touched.
"You are not a burden. You are not unworthy. You are everything I didn’t even realize I was searching for."
The moonlight bathed them both, silver and soft.
Without another word, Xavier stood up, and guided her into the flowers, then he swayed her into a slow, tender dance.
There was no music - just the wind, and the heartbeats between them.
At first, Celeste was vey stiff, awkward, as she was fighting the ache in her chest.
But Xavier simply held her, patient, gentle. A warm smile on his face, his expression reassuring. His hand was firm at her waist, then he lightly rested his forehead against hers.
Slowly, but surely, Celeste released the tension on her shoulders. She let herself be swayed by him, let herself be carried.
Then, Xavier, in the most sincere voice, said:
"I love you.....," He whispered against her hair. "Celeste.... you've ruined me, wrecked me for anyone else. I can't imagine...being with anyone else besides you."
Her walls cracked. She gripped his shirt tightly, grounding herself.
There was a short pause between them, and then Xavier pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.
"So please....I want you to marry me."
Celeste stiffened in his arms, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
He only smiled gently and bashfully, as he reached into his pocket to produce a dainty, ornate box.
When he opened it, it revealed a delicate ring—a band of silver intertwined with a diamond that glowed like the starlight. Shooting stars were etched on each side of the diamond.
It was the most beautiful ring Celeste had ever seen.
Xavier knelt, the wildflowers brushed his knees.
"Celeste....I want you to be my Queen consort. I want to build a life where you never, ever have to doubt, again. I will fight for you, protect you, and when I become king of Philos, I will use every ounce of my power to ensure that you, your family, and Nexus Innovations thrive even more."
Now, tears were running freely down Celeste’s cheeks, as she covered her mouth with trembling fingers, as her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.
"Please, Celeste," Xavier said, quietly but with determination. "Let me love you....let me stand beside you. I promise that I will choose you again, and again, for the rest of my life."
The constellations above then glimmered even brightly now. Time seemed to still.
And then-
Then......
Celeste nodded.
Through her tears, she whispered: "Yes."
Xavier’s face broke into the most joyous, disbelieving smile.
In his exaltation, he surged to his feet, and lifted her up into his arms then spun her around in the sea of wildflowers, the both of them laughing and crying, together.
Then, Xavier kissed her with all the passion he had for her. To his delight, Celeste returned his kisses with just as much fervor.
They landed on the field of wildflowers. Xavier trailed kisses down her forehead, her nose, then the side of jaw.
"Xavier...." Celeste took his face with her hands and they kissed again.
When Xavier freed her lips, he sat up, then he lovingly slipped the ring onto her trembling hand.
Celeste clung to him, and buried her face against his chest.
He smelled like home.
Finally. She thought. No more running away. This time, Xavier and I will be together, and I will make sure of it.
My star will never leave me in this life.
All of a sudden, Xavier lifted her up princess-style, his grip on her careful, but at the same time, strong and steady.
"Hey!" Celeste huffed in both surprise and delight as he strode forward as he carried her. "Where are we going?"
Xavier pressed his forehead to hers. "To our room..."
Celeste only giggled as he sauntered off with her in his arms.
Under the witness of thousands of stars and the shimmering moon, Xavier promised silently:
I will never let you feel alone again, Celeste.
Thank you for reading💜🩵🩷🧡❤️
Sylus and Nyx will be next 🐦⬛🍷
I've been slowly working on all of Part 6 for weeks now.
