#A bit of Shadowgast if you squint

[villainandhero]

The Mighty Nein x the Sims

(or: I felt like a photoshoot with my Mighty Nein Sims)

I love them

[professor-rye]

Day 3: Hair's Breadth From Death

Title: A Wrench in the Works Characters: Verin Thelyss, Essek Thelyss, Caleb Widogast Rating: Explicit Set: nebulously Post Canon Tags: Graphic Depiction of Blending the Blorbo, Literally, Whump, Blood & Gore, Machinery, Battlefield Surgery, Hurt/Comfort, Bazzoxan

There was a protocol for how to handle this situation. Verin had been forced to memorize it on his first day in town, just as every soldier was. It was the only way for the Aurora Watch to safely utilize the sacrifice engines after all, and even to this day, he knew it by heart. Activating the lever would turn on the engine for exactly one minute, and it should not be activated a second time. If someone is hanging off the side, shepherd hooks are nearby to pull them to safety if they are an ally, or push them in if they are an enemy. You do not approach the engine while it is running.

Check out more of our Whumptober Collaboration here!

[saturdaysky]

Thank you for the tag, @burningdarkfire 💖 I no-pressure tag @mithrilwren @ariadne-mouse @mllekurtz @catalists @firefrightfic @aboxthecolourofheartache @callingvoicemail @flammablehat and anyone else who wants to! If "anyone else" is you, please tag me, I want to read it

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published.   Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

I have 9 published fics, so I'll do those and perhaps snag an opening line from one of my WIPs. :)

Patterns noticed? Hmm, I tend to start deep in a character's POV with a punchy bit of dialogue or narration.

1. 🥀 poisoning the well (Caleb/Essek, Trent)

There is the splish-splash-splash as the Nein travel through the drenched Aeorian tunnel, and then Ikithon’s voice slithers into his head, parting the layers of Caleb's privacy with ease and blotting out all other sound.

2. 🌠 afterimage (Deirta Thelyss/anger at her god)

Deirta’s people did not know, in the beginning, of consecution. When they emerged blinking into the sunlight and cowering beneath the stars, they were like any other creature: they lived and died, and fate took no special notice of them.

3. 😿 the other things that make us (Caleb/Essek)

He and Caleb are-

He and Caleb are comfortable. Friends. Colleagues. Companions, when Essek is able to visit.

4. 🍏 the apple of one's eye (Caleb/Essek)

"I have a surprise for you," Essek murmurs into Caleb's ear, sounding pleased with himself, and perches on a chair to watch him open the gift. Caleb sifts through layers of packaging until he unearths a carefully-folded bundle of glittering cloth.

He shakes it out. "Surprise" is an adequate word for the outfit that unfurls in his hands. The style is stereotypically Zemnian, despite the excessive number of straps and bangles. What's strange is that fabric seems to be missing in some unusual areas...although if he squints, it almost looks like—

5. 📕 A Mind for Literature (Caleb/Essek)

“I am merely providing feedback at Jester’s request,” Essek muttered once his lips were his own. “She sent me an advanced copy.” His cheeks were a very pretty purple, Caleb decided. There should be more color like that in the world.

6. This one is explicit in the very first line, so it will go under the read more. ✌️😎

7. 🥩 Rare Gift (Trent, Essek)

It must be mockery, Essek thinks, to seat him here at this fine table, cozily enclosed in a small private chamber, as though this is an indulgent conversation between friends.

It must be a game, for they had not even tried to chain him when they pulled him from his cell. A spell had been cast, and Essek could not resist it, so he had come when called, like a pet. Perhaps it gave Trent satisfaction to see him so.

8. 🌜 Quiet Night (Caleb/Essek)

The night is peaceful. Inside the dome, it is quiet, comfortably still, and Essek would like to keep it that way. Somehow.

Caleb is very good at being silent; the only hint Essek might have of him being improper is the slightly labored breathing that brushes warmly over the back of his neck.

9. 🖐 Bitter Balm (Caleb/Essek)

“I care for you, Caleb,” Essek says suddenly, as Caleb walks towards the door to the rest of the outpost. “I expect nothing from it, but, ah. We are heading into peril tomorrow, and...honesty is a new habit.”

There’s a bitter edge of amusement beneath his words.

6. 🧎‍♂️ selfish creatures (Caleb/Essek)

"I thought of you," Caleb says. "I thought of you like this: on your knees before me, my cock in your mouth. It has been a thought for a long time."

Essek hums against him, bobbing his head in a rhythm that coils sweet tension through Caleb with every stroke. The stretch of his lips around Caleb's cock is beautifully obscene.

10. ⏳ untitled semi-abandoned shadowgast Your Name/body swap au

There was a note left for him, when Caleb awoke again in the body that was not his own. Three papers rested on top of an ornate purple-wood desk. A single magelight bobbed a few handspans above their neatly-aligned edges. Its green glow was the only light in the compact study, save for a small window high on the southern wall that spilled starlight across the floor.

He unfolded his borrowed frame from its perfectly-postured perch on the divan, and walked the few steps to the desk. When he picked up the first page, the paper felt soft and heavy: arcanist's weight, handmade, in the finest quality.

The note began simply: Caleb. It felt like an accusation. He bit back twin flares of dread and amusement, then by habit fixed the look of the penmanship into his mind in case it became useful later.

Do not leave my towers, the note continued in elegant, forceful strokes. You are unaware of the currents in which I delve, and I do not wish for my body to be killed or myself to be disgraced because of hapless meddling. Last time required significant triage.

The last was a longer bit simply because it would never see the light of day, otherwise. :)

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

More prompts! Feel free to pick one or combine any of 'em if that sounds fun :)

Shadowgast: missing person, shattered glass, fever dream, first aid

This got wildly out of hand. ^^;  A bit shaky on the editing, but I think it fits the prompt pretty well??

Concentrated dunamis is a heady thing, as they find out. 

Fjord, leaping to make a grab for Beau, unbalances a set of familiar-looking tripods built on a huge scale.  Beau, red eyes burning, dodges sideways directly into Jester’s incoming tackle.  One of her flailing kicks slams into the same support Fjord jostled.  Desperate and three-fourths possessed, Beau still kicks like she wants to make Dairon proud. 

The whole apparatus creaks.  Somewhere up above, one gold distilling pipe pops out of joint and lands across another.  Decaying wood shrieks once.  Jester and Fjord have Beau, but only just barely.  If they let her go now to flee, she will vanish into Aeor’s labyrinth.

Silvery liquid drips and trickles from the pipes knocked loose.  It splashes on the floor, spraying Fjord with a handful of droplets.  He makes a weird, gasping shout but maintains his hold on Beau.  Jester pulls, he pushes, Beau struggles, and the distillery sags dangerously.

Essek bursts into the room just in time to see all of this in an instant.  They will not make it out from underneath before the whole structure collapses.  Caleb has his eyes - all of them - fixed on Beau.  He wears the look of concentration he uses when employing their telepathy and ability to reach mind to mind.  Beau’s struggles lessen, but too late.  Veth lies stunned on the floor at a safe distance.  Yasha has Caduceus slung over her shoulders and is too far away to help.

Gravity does what gravity does best.  Tons of wood, metal, and glass tip past the threshold of balance and begin to fall.

Essek makes two choices.

Jester discovers her feet are firmly planted.  She could have sworn she was struggling for purchase an instant ago.  She gets her arms locked around Beau’s chest and heaves with all her strength and all her weight.  Fjord manages to snare one of Beau’s legs at the knee and the other at the ankle.  The three of them tumble forward enough that Caleb can sweep them to safety with an earthen paw.

All cries of relief and celebration are lost in the din.

The distillery falls in the exact opposite direction they expect it to.

~

They dig Essek out.  He’s alive, and less injured than anyone had dared to hope.  Well, other than Fjord, who is both distracted and full of an unnerving surety.

“He won’t be dead,” Fjord reassures Jester not ten seconds before they find Essek.

Essek is, in fact, semi-conscious.

“He’ll be gliding in no time.”  Fjord pats Caleb on the shoulder, his grip firm and steadying.

Extremely dazed, before even saying a word or reacting to their presence, Essek pushes himself up on one arm and rises a few inches above the ground.  He holds his head, shielding his eyes from Caleb and Caduceus’ lights.

“Yes?” asks Fjord.

“Fjord—”  Jester pulls up short, eyes going wide.  “Fjord, what word am I going to say next?”

Fjord, equal parts delighted, worried, and confused, says, “Coochie.”

Half a beat later, Jester blurts out, “Coochie!”

“So are you telepathic now, too?”  Beau does her best not to look miserable about her recent experience and leans into Yasha’s side.

Fjord pauses like he’s listening to something.  He points a finger off to the right and says, “Clang.”

Caleb, speculative, begins to count.

A twisted bit of metal drops to the floor exactly where Fjord is pointing.  It clangs.

“Five and a half seconds.”  Caleb nods.  “You are not telepathic, Fjord.  You’re a few beats ahead of the rest of us.”

Fjord begins to say something and then deliberately shuts his mouth.  He turns to look at Jester.  She squints at him, deciding between getting information and being cheeky.  At their feet, Essek makes a little sound of discomfort as Caduceus makes him test his arms.  Jester chooses information.  “Do you know why you can see five seconds into the future, Fjord?”

“Five and a half.”  Caleb corrects her under his breath.

“Uh, that thing leaked on me?”  Fjord indicates the destroyed apparatus.

“Gross,” Veth observes.

Essek is hoarse, but he speaks up from where he sits at their ankle-level.  “It evaporates most quickly in the presence of creatures capable of choice.  We are the first such willful creatures here in a very long time.”  Blinking at their confusion and against the dim light, he looks down at his fingers and counts something out.  “Oh.  Apologies.  Fjord, you were going to say ‘some silver liquid,’ and then Veth, you were going to say ‘I recognize these tripods.’  Caleb, you would correctly identify the substance as concentrated dunamis.  Caduceus would ask where all of it went, and I—”

He wraps his arms over his head and curls inward.  Faint and plaintive, he speaks muffled into his knees.  “This is… extremely disorienting.”

Fjord grimaces.  “You got soaked, didn’t you.  Pulling that thing away from us.”

Essek hesitates then peeks up.  “...Is this the one when I was too slow and Jester d—  No.  No.  Caleb got through to Beauregard, and, uh.  Yes.  Yes, I was thoroughly drenched.”

He tries to lever himself to his feet like a man on the deck of a pitching ship.  He winces, and a sigil appears before him, turning like a gyroscope to stabilize his float.  Essek stares at it in surprise.  “Oh.  I should not be able to do that.”

Caleb is already moving towards Essek to catch him as Essek begins a slow collapse to the side, sigil reorienting to move his center of mass and keep him upright.  The result is a sideways drift.  “A spell with no verbal, somatic, or material components?  No, you should not.”

It is a mark of Essek’s total disorientation that he clings to Caleb’s coat like a drowning man to a raft.  “I feel very poorly, Caleb.”

“Yeah, you got covered in time juice.”  Veth is far too chirpy to sound remotely helpful.

“Uh, I know I’m usually the first person to suggest taking a rest, but we should move.”  Caduceus looks to Essek apologetically.  “That was a big crash.”

“I agree.”  Essek looks unseeing in the direction of the farthest door.  “I do not want to be eaten by that thing again.”

Everyone’s attention snaps to the door.  Nothing is there.

“Again?”  Yasha is preoccupied with Beau, but this stands out as particularly odd to her.

“You were very kind to cut me out… the first time.”  Essek’s gaze begins to swim.  “Did that…”

“Not happen?” Fjord finishes.  “No.  But we get eaten if we stay here?”

“Mm,” Essek agrees.  He fades fast towards incoherence.  “Many… um.  Likely.”

“Well, it’s more than five and a half seconds out, ‘cause I’m getting nothing.”  Fjord rubs his face.  “That’s something.  Someone pick a direction and let’s get moving.”

Jester and Veth flip a coin, and they go Veth’s direction.

Essek deteriorates rapidly.  Happily, it seems he floats as long as he’s at least semi-conscious, so he is easy to tow.  Caleb has a gut feeling that Essek cannot distinguish physical motion from the nauseous roil of realities rolling through his mind.  In addition, he has the look of someone who did not get a complete rest.

“You seem tired, friend.”  Caleb catches Caduceus’ eye, and the firbolg hangs back to listen as well.

“That is the cost of- of.”  Words elude Essek.  He brings a hand up to demonstrate.  “Of this—”

Caduceus swats Essek’s hand down on instinct, and the reality pinched between his fingers fizzles and fails.  Essek’s eyes roll up into the back of his head.  He drops like a stone.

“At least that one had a somatic component.”  Caleb struggles with the sudden weight of unconscious elf in his arms.  Caduceus lends a hand.

“We’re resting here.  It’s as good a spot as any.”

~

Essek comes around just after the dome goes up.  He and Caleb are alone inside for the moment, the others making one last check of their surroundings.  Caleb is adjusting his book harnesses when Essek’s hand finds his.  Caleb looks down.

He looks down into the softest silver eyes, the most trusting and adoring expression.

It does not last.

First, a little crease forms between Essek’s brows.  They draw down.  Then the worry, the fear, the realization, and Essek rolls onto his side away from Caleb to hide his face.  He sits up, still unsteady but no longer lost in time.  His is perfectly composed.

“I am,” Essek says stiffly, “so sorry.”

“Essek—”

“I knew a reality in which we- um.  It seemed… very real.”  Real enough he wanted it to be his reality.  “This is not that reality.  And I apologize for my- my lapse and… presumption.”

It is complicated, Caleb could say.  Not impossible.

He doesn’t say anything.  Essek must know, or else he never could have conjured an alternate timeline believable enough for him to wake up holding onto it.

“It seems I owe you all my life.  Again.”  Essek smiles a hopeless little smile and laughs a morose little laugh.  “Thank you.”

“You saved Beau, Jester, and Fjord,” Caleb reminds him.  “This is what we do.  We save each other.  There is no owing.”

Essek laughs disbelievingly through his nose and pins his faint smile into place.  “As you say.”

And Caleb, glancing briefly into the flat silver of Essek’s eyes, misses the softness there that he now knows is possible.

[eldritchgray]

A Few Inches From Burning

I wrote a fic based off of @saturdaysky ‘s dark shadowgast au. If you prefer to read it on AO3 you can find it here 

There are situations that call for maintaining a calm and rational mind. In fact, Essek liked to believe that most situations could be best handled in that way; it’s how he’d gotten as far as he had.

This situation was most certainly one of those. But no matter how many times he told himself that, Essek continued to fail miserably at calming himself down. He was frankly surprised that his heart still had the strength to beat as hard as it was. Working with the Assembly had its risks, and he had known that going in, of course. But while sitting alone, stewing in his thoughts, he had to admit to himself that he never actually expected things to go this direction.

This direction being chained to a chair in a nondescript stone room somewhere in the Empire.

It was difficult to tell how much time had passed in this windowless room, but it was long enough that Essek’s original panic at being chained with anti magic manacles with no idea where he was, had festered into a steady stream of anxious thoughts and dread. Hence his poor overexerted heart. Assuming that Essek had any chance at all of getting out of this predicament alive, he would need all his wits and his wits were simply not cooperating.

Thinking back, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment things had gone so wrong for him. Sure the Dynasty declaring war over the Beacon Essek had secretly given to the Assembly was… problematic, but everything had been going relatively smoothly up until very recently. He wasn’t even sure of the developments that led to his current predicament. He wasn’t currently aware of any missteps on his part.

Of course there was always the chance that his business partners had changed their minds about working with him due to complications of the war. That was certainly an unsettling thought.

It happened to be the first of many unsettling thoughts for Essek. Time dragged on and no one came into the room, so for better or worse, his only company was himself. He was almost certain it had been hours at this point, and he didn’t know if the wait was to make him as uncomfortable as possible or if something big enough happened in the Empire that the Assembly was delayed. Regardless of the answer, and the rest of his spiraling thoughts, Essek felt fatigue starting to set in and despite his better judgement he started to drift off.

A rattling sound woke him. Essek was immediately aware of the door being unlocked and then opened with a soft creak. A man stepped inside and Essek’s heart pounded faster in his chest as his stomach dropped.

“Good morning Herr Thelyss.” The man said softly with a charming smile. A simple hand gesture later and the room was lit just bright enough to be painful to Essek’s drow eyes. It glared off of the man’s sharp blue eyes, long red hair, and pale skin.

“Ah, so it is morning then.” Essek replied. Squinting against the glare, he noticed the man was pulling his gloves off and rolling up his sleeves revealing criss-crossed scars. He had worked with the Assembly long enough to recognize this was probably one of Ikithon’s scourgers. That certainly didn’t bode well for his chances.

“It is. Apologies for the wait Herr Thelyss. I meant to talk to you sooner, but something came up.” The man kept up his charming demeanor; if the situation were different Essek would have found it disarming, but given current circumstances, it only unsettled him further. In a few steps the man had crossed the room. “My name is Bren Ermendrud. I am here on behalf of the Assembly.” The man’s blue eyes focused on him and hardened slightly. Eremndrud’s next words were just louder than a whisper and the easy charming smile edged into something more sinister. “We have some questions for you.”

“Ah, I see.” Essek surprised himself with how calm the words sounded. They certainly did not reflect the panic he was feeling. “What exactly are these questions pertaining to?”

“I’m afraid that given some recent… developments in the war, the Assembly has chosen to tie up some loose ends.” Essek’s blood turned to ice in his veins at those words. This was very close to a worst case scenario. “But the Assembly can be reasonable.” Ermendrud took slow deliberate steps behind the chair he was chained to as he said these words. “You have quite a bit of information at your disposal after all.” There was suddenly a hand on Essek’s shoulder; its fingers briefly pressed into his tunic and then let up. His breath hitched. “It would be such a waste to let that knowledge go. And if there’s one thing the Assembly despises,” Ermendrud leaned down, speaking his next words directly into Essek’s ear, “it is wasting resources.” Ermendrud’s breath was hot, almost unnaturally so, and there was no mistaking the underlying threat in his tone that replaced the earlier charm.

Ermendrud shifted his other hand in front of Essek’s face, which had him confused until it was suddenly ablaze. Essek could feel the searing heat, and while Ermendrud’s hand didn’t appear to be burning, he was under no illusion that the fire wouldn’t hurt him . Keeping his eyes open against the bright flame in front of him was now painful , but Essek didn’t think he could afford to look away.

“I am sure if you are generous with your knowledge, Shadowhand, the Assembly will be reasonable. I think you and I can come to an agreement.” Essek was finding it difficult to structure his rattling thoughts into something coherent. He apparently hesitated too long because the flaming hand crept closer towards his face. Essek forced himself to speak.

“I-I would- ah. I would be willing to cooperate further with the Assembly.” His words sounded desperate to his ears. He was certain the scourger took notice of it as well, but it had the desired effect of getting the open flame to stop moving closer to him.

“Hmm, that’s a start.” The hand was unfortunately still there so Essek thought back to the most recent meeting with the Bright Queen. He was already a traitor to the Dynasty, it wasn’t as if he could sully his conscience anymore, and if it meant he could get out of this place alive well…

He had always put himself first in these matters.

“I am, ah, certain the Assembly wishes to end this war just as the Dynasty does?” Ermendrud hummed a non-committal response. “I have recent news of a weapon some of the Dynasty’s engineers are building, as well as knowledge of its function.” The flames went out and Essek released a breath he’d been holding. Ermendrud walked back around to face him. The hand that rested on his shoulder moved to pat Essek on the cheek.

“I knew you could be a good boy and see things our way.” Ermendrud’s smile shifted into something cold and sharp. “Let’s begin with everything you know of this new weapon.”

Essek nodded slightly and tried to breathe normally again. He had a feeling this interrogation would last for the foreseeable future.

[tali-zorahs]

 @shadowgast-week​ day 6: fairytale au// domesticity

Caleb could hear distant swearing in the general vicinity of the kitchen, which was noteworthy on its own. Essek—for it clearly was him, as the two of them were currently the only ones in the home—rarely swore, something that set him apart from most of the people Caleb associated with. Abundantly curious as to what might have managed to garner such a rise from the usually studiously polite man, Caleb crept into the kitchen.

Apparently Essek’s task kept him sufficiently distracted such that Caleb was able to make his way to where he could see what had caused Essek to swear so much. Essek faced away from Caleb, towards the rarely used kitchen counter. Unlike its usual state, the kitchen counter was now littered with things, mostly cookware and scattered pages. A couple pages floated in midair next to Essek’s head. Squinting at the pages, Caleb could make out what appeared to be a recipe. On a second glance, Caleb now noticed that Essek was covered in flour, as was much of the counter.

Doing his best to resist breaking into a wide smile, Caleb completed his journey into the kitchen by wrapping his arms around Essek from behind. Essek immediately curtailed his string of complaints and let out what some might describe as a squeak, if it had come from someone other than Essek.

“You’re here early,” Essek commented once he regained a bit of composure, shifting back into Caleb’s hold. Caleb distantly registered that Essek was floating—something he rarely did at home anymore.

“Hmm, ja. Would you believe that I wanted to see you before everyone else got here?” Caleb asked him, humoring Essek and responding to his comment rather than addressing his burning curiosity regarding the scenario he had happened upon.

“I’m gratified to hear that my husband enjoys seeing me,” Essek commented, “though I had hoped you wouldn’t see this.”

“And what might this be?” Caleb asked, not attempting to fight back the smile anymore.

“I think that should be abundantly clear,” Essek commented, frustration evident in his voice.

“You’re…baking?” Caleb asked after taking stock of the food items on the counter. Flour, butter, sugar—clearly some sort of sweet. Immediately in front of Essek lay a bowl of some amount of the mixture, though the ratio seemed incorrect based on the odd color and lumpy texture.

“Attempting to,” Essek said, “though it seems being a dunamantic prodigy does not grant other skills.”

“And what exactly went wrong?” Caleb asked, looking back to Essek, or what he could see of Essek, as he was still wrapped around the man from behind.

“That, I am currently unsure of,” Essek told him, turning to study one of the pages still floating next to his head, “I followed the recipe, but I must have gotten some step wrong.”

“And what exactly prompted you to venture into the baking world just now?” Caleb asked him,

Essek stayed silent a beat, and Caleb allowed him the silence. Whatever it is, it was embarrassing to Essek in some way. After the moment passed Essek responded, “Well, I knew everyone was coming over later. And Jester is always complaining that the bakeries near here never make anything sweet enough, so I thought I might attempt to make something that satisfies her sweet tooth.”

Caleb nearly bit his lip as he smiled at Essek’s response. The Essek he first met would never have considered to bake something for a friend. That Essek didn’t have friends, nor did he do anything for anyone if the exchange was not transactional in some way. While Caleb had a hard time believing Essek would go too far out of his way for a stranger even now, the fact that Essek was willing to do things for his friends—their friends, by this point—was endearing. Heartening.

“That’s very kind of you, Liebling,” Caleb commented to Essek.

Essek laughed a bit bitterly in response. “A kind thought, but that does not create a good pastry.”

“Jester will appreciate the thought even if it didn’t work out,” Caleb responded. “Though if you’re really hoping to make sweets for Jester then there’s still time before everyone gets here.”

“I’m not sure if my efforts will be worth it. I still do not know what mistake I made that caused the issue with the last batter, and I can’t be sure I wouldn’t just repeat the same mistake,” Essek told him. Caleb took advantage of their position to lean down and kiss the back of Essek’s neck, grinning when he heard the tiny inhale from Essek.

“Well, there would be a difference this time, as I will be here. Caduceus may do all of our cooking when we’re in a group, but I’m not unfamiliar with baking. It has been a while, but I do not easily forget things,” Caleb responded, speaking directly beside Essek’s ear. Caleb noted the flush to the ear and appreciated the fact that even now something so simple could get a response from Essek. It was nice, being casually affectionate. He may be used to it by this point, but that didn’t mean he took it for granted.

“I see. And what do you remember making?” Essek asked him, wiggling a bit like he was considering turning around in Caleb’s arms but remaining as he was.

“Ah, Zemnian sweets mostly. I don’t remember entire recipes, unfortunately, because I never baked by myself.”

“Oh, and who did you bake with?” Essek asked, seemingly curious to find an aspect of Caleb’s past that he had not yet uncovered.

Caleb responded more quietly when he said, “my mother.”

“Oh,” Essek responded immediately, tensing up a bit. “And you do not mind, ah…helping me in this?”

“I do not,” Caleb told him truthfully. Caleb had many fond but now bittersweet memories of helping his mother bake when he was younger, in the time before he went to the Soltryce Academy. While he would never truly be able to move past it, he was thankful for what good memories he had, even if the happy memories only made him feel more guilty. “I admit I would appreciate being able to make more happy and…uncomplicated…memories regarding baking.”

“Well, if you’re offering, I would be a fool to turn you down,” Essek told him, finally succumbing to his desire to twist around in Caleb’s grasp so that he faced Caleb. Caleb gave him a gentle smile, one that Essek returned. Caleb noticed then that Essek had flour on his face as well, causing him to laugh. “What, why are you laughing?” Essek questioned him, narrowing his eyes.

Caleb reached up to rub his thumb across the patch of flour on Essek’s face, only serving to spread more of it over his cheek. “You know, I do believe that when you bake your intent is to keep the food in the bowl.” Essek quirked an eyebrow and frowned at him, prompting Caleb to lean down to meet the frown with a kiss, tilting Essek’s face up in the process. Caleb felt a bit of a huff, most likely a laugh, as he leaned down further to meet the man, who moved his arms to wrap around Caleb’s neck.

Caleb separated a moment to remark, “so, any reason for the floating today?”

“Easier to reach things,” Essek responded quickly before pulling Caleb back in. When they separated Caleb found himself laughing this time. “Are you here to laugh at my stature? Because I do believe you promised me you’d help me with some baking.”

“Of course, of course,” Caleb told Essek, moving further from him to indicate his seriousness in the offer. “Show me the recipe and we’ll see what we need to do to restart this.”

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 7

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, is loved a lot by the Nein (including lots of Shadowgast in most chapters), and fights to protect vulnerable people from going through what he did.

Chapter summary: Time is of the essence. Caleb cannot let it end this way. He will not let more lives be ruined by Trent Ikithon.

Notes: CW: Caleb's backstory but REALLY BAD, references to child abuse, vomiting

More detailed warnings and a chapter summary can be found in the end notes on AO3.

If you need to skip, you can probably read up to Caleb telling Beau to use Step of the Wind. There is a reference to past child abuse a few lines above that. If that's an issue, stop reading as soon as Caleb flags down a villager.

Chapter title is from Eight by Sleeping At Last again.

****

Chapter 7: For the innocent, for the vulnerable, I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

They landed. The stormclouds were heavy overhead. Caleb hadn’t witnessed a storm in Blumenthal for a long time, and it disoriented him.

“Caleb, which way’s north?” asked Beauregard.

He grounded himself, breathed, pointed. Beauregard angled herself in a northeastern direction and started off. He followed close behind; Astrid and Wulf were half a step behind him on either side.

Caduceus had mentioned an orchard. Caleb had his head on a swivel, but he couldn’t see any fruit trees. And the buildings seemed slightly… off.

Oh. Oh no.

Caleb felt sick.

“Wait,” said Astrid. “We’re in the wrong place.”

Caleb held himself very still, silently counting eins, zwei, drei, fier, fünf… “Okay.” He breathed deeply. “Around me, please.”

Of all the times for a teleport to send them off-target. He wanted to scream, but instead, he focused hard on every little detail Caduceus had provided. And he cast again.

Again, they landed. The orchard trees were in sight. Caleb pointed them in the right direction again. The road was muddy, squelching as they ran. There were a handful of people still in the street, making last-minute preparations for the storm, and they definitely looked askance at a group of (somewhat) strangers tearing down the street.

“Astrid, what’s the name of the family?” asked Caleb.

“Baumann.”

Caleb caught the nearest villager who didn’t look too freaked out, switching to Zemnian. “Excuse me. My name is Caleb Widogast. I am a teacher at Soltryce Academy. We are looking for the Baumann family.”

The man he had stopped looked him up and down for far longer than Caleb could stand under the circumstances. “What’s your business?”

“We need to discuss Nico’s tuition this year,” said Astrid. “He was set to graduate, but the seniors may need additional support after the departure of Master Ikithon.” She held out her hand. “Archmage Astrid Beck. I am Ikithon’s replacement.”

“All right. What’s the rush?”

Caleb sighed, because he had to let something out. “I had not wanted to speak of this in public, but if we must… Master Ikithon was arrested a few months ago for abusing his students. Nico and Felix have been missing since just before the arrest. We have located Felix, but we have concerns about Nico. This is time-sensitive.”

“This Master Ikithon did something to the boys?” The man’s face didn’t give much away, but he pointed down the street. “Head to the end of the road, turn right, and keep going until you see the house with the cabbage patch.”

“Thank you.”

They ran. That had taken far too much time. Caleb should have been pulled the abusive teacher card from the beginning. Fuck.

“Beauregard, Step of the Wind? We three can fly.”

“Got it.”

Caleb, Wulf and Astrid cast Fly on themselves, and Beau began to fucking book it. She was technically faster than them, even with flight, but she only pulled a little ahead. If they were too late, there wasn’t much she could do alone.

There was an odd scent in the air. Caleb wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, until Beau yelled over her shoulder, “I smell smoke!”

They turned the corner and pushed onwards, and soon it became clear looking for cabbages was the least of their problems. There was a house on fire.

Time stretched, before Caleb breathed and it snapped like a bowstring. They were coming up fast, and there was barely any more time to think.

“Wulf, find the boy,” Caleb said. “We’ll get inside.”

“I see him.” Wulf broke off towards a barn, where there was a young man half-hidden, staring at the flames. There was no time to determine his condition; that had to be up to Wulf.

They reached the house. There was a thick plank of wood jammed against the door handle. Caleb cast Telekinesis, threw it out of the way.

Beau charged ahead.

“Wait!”

Beau stopped. Caleb used the spell to throw the door open, and there was an explosion of flame outward, which would have hurt. Belatedly, rushing to open the door may have been a mistake, but there was no time to think about it. They raced inside and crouched low, coughing from the smoke. They could barely see, aside from flickers of orange light all around them. The heat was unbearable.

“I’ll start on the fire,” said Astrid, throwing out a Ray of Frost at the staircase. Aside from the roaring of the flames, there were not the noises Caleb could remember. It was almost… too quiet.

Beau got out her fan. “Split up?”

“I’ll go upstairs.” It would be safer for him to go. He could control the flames better than she could with her limited-use fan, or her Belabour. Best to keep her close to Astrid. “Be careful of backdrafts.”

She punched his shoulder and crawled deeper into the house, while Caleb ducked towards the staircase he could barely see through the thick smoke. Nico must have expended most of his spells to have burned the house this quickly.

Caleb had to douse and climb over a fallen beam to get up the stairs, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose for a bit of protection. He could not shake his dread.

The smoke was thicker upstairs. Caleb’s eyes watered. He tamped down what flames he could see with his Control Flames cantrip. His hand found a doorframe. Door open, no backdraft risk. He peeked inside, squinting against the roiling smoke. But he couldn’t see far enough for just a glance. He cast Control Flames again, pushing down as much flame as he could.

He crawled inside the room, his hands quickly finding the frame of a single bed. Probably Nico’s. He felt around for a moment longer to be sure, but it was unlikely anyone was here. He moved on, coughing hard enough to tear his throat. His eyes streamed from the smoke. He cast again. But it would take time for the smoke to clear, even as the flames slowly dwindled around him.

Caleb crawled down the hallway, finding another doorframe. Felt for the door. Closed. Rested the back of his hand against it. Hot. Opening it was too risky without improving the conditions up here. Even if he was safely away from the backdraft by using telekinesis, if someone was on the other side of the door, they could get hurt.

Caleb aimed a Disintegrate spell for the ceiling above him and hoped it would punch a hole all the way through. Memories of what to do in a fire were slowly filtering through his scattered mind. Vertical ventilation mattered in a building fire.

He let the spell loose, and it punched a hole the size of Caleb’s head all the way into the sky. A horrible thought occurred to him, even as smoke began to escape and oxygen equalise, slow as it was.

Caleb knew a lot about fire. In a situation where a backdraft was possible, it was highly unlikely to find survivors. Caleb tamped down the flames around him again, which had grown with the presence of more oxygen.

Then he stepped back and Disintegrated the door, taking a huge chunk of it away. He kicked the jagged remains open and crawled into the room. Control Flames once more.

He reached out, and found a shape on the floor. Edged closer. A hand. Blackened. It twitched, and then fell still. Caleb gently felt the wrist for a pulse. Couldn’t find one.

He edged around the charred body, and found a second one. There were no discernible features left. Just a vague human shape, burned to a crisp.

Caleb flung out his Control Flames cantrip again, dousing the flames in the room. Then, he pulled out his copper wire. “Beauregard, call off the search. They are dead. Get outside. Astrid and I will finish putting it out.”

Beauregard’s reply was instant, raspy. “Okay. I’ll check on Eadwulf. Don’t take too long.”

Caleb was thankful she didn’t say anything else. He kept working his way through the upper floor, snuffing the flames until all that remained was smoke slowly curling towards the hole in the roof. His throat was raw from coughing. Fire gone, he opened all the windows he could find to help ventilate the building and make it safer for Astrid downstairs.

He found her in the kitchen, icing the flames over. “I heard.” Her voice was equally shredded.

Caleb wordlessly helped her put the rest of the flames out. They stepped out of the house. Beauregard had reached Wulf by now, who was kneeling in the grass, cradling Nicolaus.

They approached. Nico’s eyes were glazed over, unfocused, and he lay limp in Wulf’s arms. Astrid twitched.

“He got a little aggressive, but I handled it,” said Wulf. “Now he’s…” He looked up at Caleb. “Like you were.”

A muscle was working in Beauregard’s jaw, but whatever was on her mind, she said something else. “Take me back to the office and bring Caduceus. I’ll watch Felix.”

“Astrid,” Caleb said flatly, “do you have any teleports left?”

“Ja.” She approached Beauregard, moving stiffly. “I’ll be back.” She and Beauregard vanished.

Wulf gazed up at Caleb, his face serious but giving little away as it often did. “Lionett told me what you said.”

Caleb took a deep breath, which itched terribly, forcing him to cough again. “We have one thing left to try. It’s… a long shot.” He knelt in front of Nico, who did not react to his presence. “Do you…” He coughed again. “In your experience with me, do you know if he might…”

“You would sometimes react to things,” said Wulf. “Not often. I don’t know if you could make sense of anything we said. Astrid said you don’t remember anything?”

“I do not.” Caleb sighed; if there was even the slightest chance Nico could hear them, he had to say something. He switched to Zemnian, in case that would be easier for him to process on the off-chance he heard anything. “Nico, my name is Caleb, or Bren. Either is fine. I know you are not well at the moment, but we are going to help you. I promise we will help you.”

There was no reaction. Caleb hadn’t really expected one. Wulf certainly hadn’t. They caught each other’s eyes again over Nico’s head. Wulf’s expression cracked, just a tiny bit. Caleb breathed deep, and Wulf did the same.

Caleb coughed again. Breathing really hurt.

Astrid appeared with Caduceus a few feet away.

Caleb got up, every part of him aching. His fingers were blistered. “Caduceus, let us walk and talk.”

“You do not have to go back in there,” Astrid said.

“I know. I am choosing to go.” Caleb pulled his Transmuter’s Stone from his pocket. “I have a trick I want to try.”

Her eyes fell to the ground. “All right.”

Caleb turned back to the house. Blackened. Smoking. But the flames were gone. He led Caduceus across the ash-spotted grass.

“Beau said it was bad,” said Caduceus.

“It is bad.” Caleb cleared his throat, painfully. “Will you be all right here?”

Caduceus nodded. “We both know I’m not the one to worry about.” He cast a low-level Cure Wounds on Caleb as they walked, and his throat and fingers felt a bit better.

Caleb went through the front door first. A fair amount of smoke had cleared by now, but the acrid scent of burnt wood remained. They headed up the stairs; Caleb used Telekinesis to move the fallen beams.

Light streamed into the upstairs from the opened windows and the hole in the roof. Caduceus looked up at the hole.

“Huh. You did that?”

“Vertical ventilation reduces backdraft risk.” Caleb led Caduceus to the second bedroom. Now that enough smoke had cleared out, he could see the reality of the room, the blackened double bed, compromised dresser, scorched mirror, the two charred human bodies on the floor, closer to the door than he had realised. And a very familiar stench of burned flesh.

Caleb swallowed against nausea, and knelt beside the smaller of the two bodies. “I can try to Raise Dead with my stone. Like Molly. I can only do it once.”

Caduceus knelt beside the larger body, taking in the damage. “Caleb.” He was about to tell Caleb how bad the chances were that they could fix this, and he really really could not handle hearing that from him. Him specifically. Caleb could not afford to break. Not yet.

“I know.” Caleb placed his stone on the woman’s chest. He had researched the Raise Dead spell since figuring out he could use his stone in this way. He knew the spell could close all mortal wounds, but would not replace body parts or organs integral to survival. If the Baumanns had died from smoke inhalation, this would have a higher chance of success. In this state…

Unlikely. But he needed to try. Caleb poured magic into the stone. Beside him, Caduceus placed a large diamond on the other body’s chest and prayed softly to the Wildmother.

Caleb’s stone shattered, and he could feel for just a moment a catch of something. Like he had snagged the corner of the woman’s soul.

“Frau Baumann,” he muttered. “I don’t know if we knew each other when we were children. My name was Bren Ermendrud, and I am here to help your son. He needs you. And this does not have to be your end. The world will be much poorer without you in it.”

The stone glowed, and he felt the soul drifting, snagged by the spell. For a moment, the soul seemed to dip, like it wanted to return. And then, as the stone shattered, it drifted away. He tried to grasp for it, but it slipped through his magic. And then it was gone.

The body was still just a body. There was not enough left of her for him to even recognise. The air was empty. Or maybe there wasn’t any air.

Caduceus sat back, shaking blackened dust of the destroyed diamond from his fingers, and raised his eyes to the window opposite them. “Wildmother, a terrible tragedy has happened here today. This is not the natural way of things. I know this is a huge ask, but… we would like to have these people back.” He waited. A full sixty seconds passed. Nothing changed. He sighed. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

It was done. They had tried everything they could. And everything had failed.

The nausea crashed over Caleb once again. He tried to breathe, and smelled burnt flesh. He shoved a hand over his nose and mouth, swallowing hard.

Caduceus pulled him to his feet. “Let’s step outside.” He led Caleb out of the room, down the stairs, out the front door.

Caleb gulped the fresh air down. “Go to the others. I… need a… moment.”

Caduceus squeezed his shoulder and approached the barn, where a crowd was beginning to gather. Caleb walked, tightly-controlled, around the side of the house, just out of sight, and threw up on the grass. Wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Banged the side of his fist against the charred wood until he could think again.

Then he straightened, rolled back his shoulders, and approached the slowly-building clump of people.

Caduceus was doing most of the talking, with some input from a tense Astrid. Wulf had stood up, carrying Nico, who was still unresponsive. They were all out of teleportation spells, but Caleb had brought enough chalk and ink to draw a circle to the archives.

“All right,” Caduceus was saying. “We are going to take Nicolaus to Rexxentrum for care. I think we’re all a bit out of it after all of this.”

“Our gravekeeper will take care of the Baumanns,” said an older man, who Caleb recognised as the mayor. He’d avoided speaking to him last time he visited, so he had managed to not learn his name. “You take care of Nico, and send us updates as you can.”

“That can be arranged,” Astrid said, businesslike. “Thank you.”

“I’ll start drawing a circle to Rexxentrum,” Caleb said quietly. “May I use the barn? The chalk will vanish once we are gone.”

The mayor shrugged. “I suppose.”

Caleb stepped into the barn and cleared a ten-foot circle of hay so he could draw directly on the clay. “High Curator. It’s Caleb. May I bring Astrid and Eadwulf through the Rexxentrum circle? We will have Caduceus and a sick young man with us.”

“Hello, Professor. You may do that. If you are able to update me on your search on your way through, please do.”

Caleb would probably vomit again if he had to talk about it, but Caduceus could get the point across, probably. He knelt on the floor and began to draw the circle, honing down his focus so all he thought about was the next stroke of chalk and ink, and the specific detailing for the Rexxentrum Archives.

The others entered the barn seven minutes and thirty-two seconds into the drawing. “Caduceus, can you Send to Beauregard?”

“Can do,” Caduceus replied. “Hey. We’re coming through the Archives soon.” A pause. “She says she’s gotten Felix settled in a dormitory and is headed home to prepare for our arrival.”

“We should keep Nicolaus away from the Assembly, ja,” Astrid said quietly. “Until we think of something.”

“I have a spell for this, I think. Better to get away from here first.”

“Yudala wants an update on our way,” Caleb said.

“I’ll take care of it,” said Caduceus.

Caleb finished the last few strokes of the circle in silence. It came alight, and they stepped through.

He had to fight back the nausea again once they landed. Caduceus steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Yudala entered the circle chamber, taking in the ash-covered group and the catatonic boy in Wulf’s arms.

“The monks have informed me the other boy is safe,” they said. “Is this as bad as it looks?”

“It is,” Caduceus replied.

“Very well.” Yudala looked at Caleb specifically; they were smart enough and had enough access to Caleb’s past specifically to put it all together. “We’ll talk later. You all look exhausted.” They turned to Astrid. “I will send a formal invitation in due time.”

“We’ll see how much it panics the Martinet first,” Astrid said without inflection.

“I have my ways around him if need be.” Yudala led them through the archive personally, letting them out into the overcast afternoon. The storm was on its way here. “Get some rest. You have earned it.”

[luckyjak]

essek week: day six

Tower/Possibility. Shadowgast. for @essek-week

There was someone in Caleb’s office.

Strange; there shouldn’t be. The students should all be in bed by now, and he didn’t think anyone had snuck through the wards he’d placed around the tower.

But no: there was a person in his office, a stranger who was playing with the cat figurines on his desk.

“Can I help you?” Caleb spoke, finally, spooking the stranger slightly. The stranger--a skinny, dark skinned human man with white curly hair--jumped at both the sound and the sudden light, squinting in the darkness. Caleb sent out 4 globules of light into the room, brightening it significantly, and Frumpkin jumped from his shoulder to investigate the person.

“Caleb Widogast!” The stranger said cheerily, his voice familiar but impossible for Caleb to place. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I see that,” Caleb said quietly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. It would not do to wake the students if this conversation turned violent. “How can I be of service?”

The stranger ignored him, turning his attention from Caleb’s desk to the window behind the desk. “I love what you’ve done with the place. I’ve always loved a good tower,” he mused out-loud, running his hands along the brick that makes up the window. “And a sun dampener! That must be a strange sight here in Blumenthal. What inspired that, I wonder?”

The man before him doesn’t seem to be a threat, and so Caleb decides to humor him. “I spent some time in Rosohna. I suppose I got used to the eternal night,” he steps behind the stranger, so that he stood behind him, in between the desk and the window. “That, and I want all students to feel welcome here, even those who are sensitive to sunlight. Hence, the dampener.”

He does not say: the man I love is a drow, and the sunlight hurts him. And while he’s not here now, I want him to know he’s always welcome.

“And yet the flowers still bloom,” the stranger smiles. At his feet, Frumpkin purred, rubbing his head against the man’s ankles. That was a good sign, that Frumpkin seemed to like this man. “It’s quite an achievement. You should be quite proud.”

There’s something uncanny about the way he speaks that makes Caleb feel unnerved, like he knows more about Caleb than Caleb knows about him. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry to be rude, but who are you and what do you want?” he asks quietly. “Are you interested in becoming a student, or…?”

“I was wondering if you were hiring teachers, actually,” the stranger muses. “You see, I’ve recently found myself--well, my life has changed significantly,” the stranger explains. “After taking the advice of some friends, I’ve done a bit of soul searching. Decided to quit my job. Sell my house. Fake my death. Go exploring,” he gestures outside the open window, where the fields of Blumenthal are quiet at night. “See the world and learn more about the people out there. The ones I’ve hurt. Try to make a few amends.”

He snaps his fingers, and the disguise drops. In the stranger’s place, sitting on the windowsill, is Essek Thelyss, a little older, with a few more scars than the last time he saw him, but the half-smile he gives Caleb is the same as it’s always been.

“Essek,” Caleb breathes, and he feels his heart races immediately at the sight of the man he loves. 

“That is, if you have an opening, of course,” Essek teases him. “I hear Widogast Academy is quite prestigious. I hope my credentials are up to the job.”

Caleb cannot help himself; he leans forward and kisses Essek gently, the way he’s wanted to in the months it’s been since he’s seen him. “I think we may have a place for you, here,” he whispers, brushing Essek’s hair out of his face. 

“I--may need a new name,” Essek blushes, his cheeks slightly darker than the rest of his plum skin in the moonlight. “I wasn’t lying when I said I faked my own death. Much as I’m hoping to like teaching your students, I’m not sure we can trust that some of them won’t go back to Rosohna and speak of Professor Thelyss.”

Caleb takes Essek’s hand, and kisses him on the ring finger. “You can have mine, if you want it,” he offers, not yet releasing Essek’s hands from his. “Widogast has served me well so far.”

“You like naming things after yourself,” Essek teases. “Widogast’s Vault of Amber. Widogast’s Transmogrification. Widogast Academy.”

“Widogast’s husband,” Caleb whispers, kissing Essek’s hand again. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

Essek blinks, and Caleb notes his eyes are a little watery. “Of course! I mean, yes, I--” he grabs Caleb’s face and kisses him again, deeper this time. “Yes.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“If you want me--”

“Of course I want you! I asked!” Caleb laughs. 

“Then yes,” Essek grins, and kisses him again. 

[avinrydarchive]

For the fanfic end of year asks—3, 14, and 24?

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

Oh wow, oh boy I didn't actually write a lot this year... I wrote this sometime in the last month for the next chapter of Love Like You, so here's a bit of a sneak preview:

Terrified as he is, Essek still has to hide a smirk. Clever, goading the man into a monolog. For all his legitimately-gained arcane respect and substantial age in human terms, Trent Ikithon is young and lacking in key principles of maturity valued in Elven culture. Focused solely on Caleb and entrenched in the frustration of his goals, Ikithon still pays no mind to Essek or the others, and Essek takes full advantage.

Trying to ignore the growing heat at his back, Essek breathes an incantation and makes the somatic gesture for Detect Magic under his mantle. He’s braced for a blinding glow from Ikithon’s person, but it doesn’t come. Only the archmage’s boots glow a faint enchantment-teal and at his throat shines a single oilslick-grey point of...dunamancy? Yes, it has to be dunamancy, but something is horribly off.

The familiar golden spirals of possibility have been broken, fractured and remade into a rigid and somehow chaotic crystalline structure. It all pulses with a greasy shine that turns Essek’s stomach. His revolution turns to actual nausea as the tainted dunamanitc item flashes and he immediately flounders to counter as Caleb spits,

“I think I can accommodate you tod—”

The net of Essek’s counterspell slips off the awkward planes of Ikithon’s bastardized dunamancy and Essek, time specialist that he is, has the unique experience of watching light after light bloom around Ikithon’s form with his own breath locked in his lungs.

“—day”

Now Essek has to squint against the conflagration surrounding the archmage and suddenly he knows he has one chance to act before the chaos of all nine Hells breaks loose. Releasing the time-stopped air from his lungs, Essek pulls in a shaky breath, glances at Caleb, then calls up,

“It has been some time,”—pristine, unbroken possibility swirls and compresses at his will—“It seems our dealings and allegiances have shifted.”

He brings both hands out of his mantle and lets the impossibly dense bead of matter fly. It rockets up to Ikithon—pulses once, twice, thrice, five times, seven—and blooms into a sucking black void.

Ikithon does not move. His robes hang unruffled around his body, his whole form rigidly apart from the well of pressure Essek has summoned and he doesn’t even look in Essek’s direction. It leaves Essek too shocked to even curse, and that’s when all the nine Hells break loose.

14. a fic you didn't expect to write

Tbh Love Like You I didn't expect. The ShadoWidoMauk ship snuck up on me after the CR campaign 2 finale. Also I don't usually commit to longfic, it gives me anxiety. But I'm having fun in an anxious way so whoot.

24. favorite fic you read this year

OOF. There are so many... I tore through a large chunk of CR fic this year mostly, so lemme see--my gods there's so much fucking Shadowgast it's not even funny.

I think I actually have a tie between:

we never do go over(we always gotta go through) by @catalists

because listen, expending your own lifeforce to do crazy magic and save your friends is literally the best trope on the planet and holy fuck does Chrome write it well here. Matthew Mercer blessed us with the Convergent Future ability and Chrome elevated it to its best self. I only hope I can do as much in Love Like You.

and

amongst the things left unforgiven by nonwal

blumenshadowdrei snuck up on me as a ship after the c2 finale as well and the sneak attack damage of an obnoxious number of d6 was dealt by this fic. I just-- It's so good. One of those where I go back and read it because it has this vibe that's warm and fuzzy even though all of the main characters are Most Definitely Not warm and fuzzy(except when they are)