#beau is hard to draw i feel like i never get her right :(

[mini-minish]

good afternoon girl we're in the water

[meanbossart]

DU DROW LORE ASK COMPILATION: COMPANIONS, ASTARION'S READING HABITS, AND HIS LONG-INQUIRED OPINIONS ABOUT BODILY WASTE REVEALED.

I don't think "discussed" is the right word, more so mocked her for her blind faith and got into brief spats. It was precisely Shadowheart's water-off-a-duck's-back attitude towards his remarks that kind ingratiated her to him - DU drow spoke his mind, she took it in stride and remained firm in her beliefs without arguing or trying to push it on him. That, alongside the fact that they are surprisingly similar people is what brought them together as friends.

Even long after the events of the game he's still opposed to her hopping from Shar to Selune, also. Shadowheart's attachment to religion is simply something they agree to disagree about.

Can I answer your question with one of my own?

Am I the only idiot that killed her in their first run LOL

BUT YES, he killed Lae'zel when she tried to murder suicide the camp and I went through the whole game without her. I didn't go to the creche either!

I have since had other runs and she's actually one of my favorite characters, I just haven't had the chance to draw her yet.

ACTUALLY - scratch that. I've drawn her once-

Somewhat! But not really. He genuinely just likes jewelry, and rings are the only kind that suit his life-style (necklaces and earrings are a hazard during fighting) this is a reference to his bhaalist days when he used to be completely covered in the stuff day and night.

Hence why he finds them comforting to have on in some way or another. They change around because he gets bored of/misplaces runs out of fingers to wear the new rings that he loots constantly.

The great link in question

I don't know if it's been made clear enough, but DU drow's love for Astarion is borderline pathological, LOL. He's got a good humor about things and Astarion is definitely no stranger to having little quips and jokes made at his expense (a few references to him being Pointy And Long here and there, for sure), but the guy overwhelmingly adores him and thinks he's always the prettiest girl at the ball, even when he gets in his face and his nose looks huge.

I'll be honest, Astarion strikes me as the kind of guy that has like, 3 really weird books he really enjoys and reads them again and again very slowly over the course of years. Otherwise, not really a reader, but I digress -

DU drow was probably never a big reader himself, I would say he got started on a couple of books back in the day but likely never finished any. He's fairly intelligent, but most of his downtime was spent managing the cult and parsing through relevant documentation.

I definitely don't think he'd have the attention-span for fiction (which I picture as being said books that Astarion enjoys) but he does like to snuggle up with his beau to watch him read - every once in a while he catches a particularly scandalous line or description and they bicker about it. He makes a remark, Astarion feels obligated to explain the context, it devolves into some playful kind of argument that ends with Astarion telling him to go dig a hole and die in it while playing with his hair - The usual LOL.

Oh man I have a few more in-dept descriptions of how that went, both lore-wise and just for me as the player - but in summary, DU drow was pretty mean to everyone earlier on in the game and he did catch onto Astarion's very obvious and obnoxious seduction attempts very clearly. He doesn't like being so desperately pursued and they actually got off on the extremely wrong foot because of it, LOL.

After being unpromptedly rejected at the tiefling party he was a little more enticed by him, basically the "no" was his "go". I like to think of it like Astarion catching onto the fact that his initial strategy wasn't working and that this man in particular needed him to play hard to get - from that point on, DU drow started playing along. DU knew this was still a game, but now they were playing it on even ground so he was fine with it.

First of all - he inexplicably got butt-ass naked for the event.

All in all he liked it a whole lot and it was his re-introduction to the concept of pain being dished out as a form of love and his deep enjoyment of it.

Thank you so much, glad to hear you get some joy out of my work!

Dang it I had a pretty good write-up about his thoughts on Wyll from a long time ago, but I can't find it 😭

In summary, Wyll was a frustrating person for him to be around because of what he viewed to be a deeply ingrained naivete about the world. He shockingly didn't hate him (Wyll is kind of difficult to hate) but he never really saw him as an equal either, and definitely not as a friend. Du drow just desperately wanted him to express something that he would perceive as a genuine emotion; some kind of outburst or show of anger or frustration, but all he ever saw was someone trying to put on an act of performative heroism that he didn't buy at all.

At the same time, Wyll was far too young for him to be too mad. He might have held his father more accountable for making the guy into what he was than Wyll himself, really.

Can a man be scared of being scared? Because if so, it's that.

He also doesn't like shit a normal amount. (piss is fine depending on whose it is.)

[oopsitsnothingcreative]

SUNLIT MEADOW - CHAPTER 4

Parring: Edward Cullen/Beau Swan

TW: Panic attacks, mention of child abuse, mention of past toxic relationship,

CHAPTER 4: THE AFTERMATH

The morning light started filtering through the blinds. Feeling the heat of the sun on my face, I hesitantly opened my eyes, immediately regretting it. My head was pounding, the room seemed to be spinning around me. I groaned, peeling my face from the pillow, feeling every line it had imprinted on my cheek while I slept. Pushing myself upright, I felt my stomach violently flip. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled to my feet, almost tripping over the tangled sheets.

My throat felt like sandpaper, and I regretted every drop of alcohol I drank last night. I wobbled towards the bathroom, each step echoing in the empty house. The bathroom was literally just outside my room and yet it felt like a mile away.

The second I got there, I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet, gripping the cold porcelain like it was the last thing keeping me tethered to Earth and emptied the contents of my stomach until nothing was left. Yet the nausea didn’t pass, and the stomach acid kept coming up. The sounds kept echoing off the tiled walls.

This was it. This was how I died.

When the waves of sickness finally stopped, I collapsed against the wall next to me, under the tiny window, tears streaming down my cheeks as I gasped for air. I didn’t even bother wiping them away. What was the point?

I tried to replay last night in my head, but I was drawing a blank. 

Great. My first-ever hangover, and it came with bonus amnesia. Perfect.

I looked down, I still had my clothes on. I sloppily slipped out of my pants and dragged myself across the floor to the bathtub. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t dignified. With shaky hands, I turned the shower on, letting the ice-cold water slammed down on me, washing over my weak body. The shocking, icy waves send shivers down my spine, stealing the breath from my lungs and numbing every aching nerves. I let the water pound against my skin, hoping it would wash away the headache, the nausea… the guilt.

It helped. A little.

I hoped it would also help me remember the events of the previous night.

How did I get home? What happened? What did I do last night?

Every memory was still blurry or missing, except for these useless snippets: singing my heart out, dancing if I could even call it that, and a mysterious melody of a song I didn’t recognize. Beyond that? Nothing.

As I stared blankly up at the ceiling, water dripping right into my eyes, my mind went somewhere it shouldn’t have: my mother. It was impossible not to think about her.

Was this how she felt most mornings? How could she spend most of my childhood like this? Did this mean I was just like her?

The thought made my stomach flip again, though luckily, there was nothing left to hurl. “I don’t want to be like her,” I muttered to myself, the words barely audible over the sound of the shower. I felt so disgusting, and pathetic, I never wanted to feel like that ever again. But right now, all I could do was try to survive the aftermath of my own reckless decisions.

Leaning back in the tub, I let my head hit hard against the tiled wall and water drip down my face, right into my mouth. And then I heard the sound of the front door unlocking. My heart sank. My dad must’ve just been getting back from the night shift. And now he was going to find his son in the same condition he used to find his wife: hungover, pathetic, and barely functional.

What would he do when he saw me? Oh, how disappointed he would be, seeing me like that.

I listened closely to the footsteps coming up the stairs, my anxiety building with every creak, then from the hallway, and finally, a soft knock on the bathroom door. After a moment of waiting for a response that I could not give, it slowly creaked open. I blinked, trying to focus through the stream of water in my eyes, bracing myself for the look of disappointment.

But to my surprise, instead of my father, I saw the familiar figure of my best friend.

Jake stood in the doorway, his dark eyes scanning the scene like he’d just stumbled onto the aftermath of a natural disaster.

“Beau, are you alright?” His expression a mix of concern and disbelief. He kneeled down, reaching for the shower handle. “You look like you’re about to freeze to death,” he said, his tone laced with amusement despite the concern. He turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack.

My head immediately fell on his shoulder and I started weeping, not so quietly, into his t-shirt. I felt his steady arms wrap around me, one hand on my head, slowly stroking my wet hair. “What’s going on? What happened?” he whispered next to my ear.

My voice was so hoarse, all I could do was mumble ‘idunno,’ over and over. And for a moment he just held me tightly, assuring me everything would be okay. Jake let go of me only when I stopped frantically shaking and sobbing. He carefully peeled off my soaked shirt, tossing it to the other side of the bathtub. He carefully wrapped me in the towel, the fabric warm and slightly rough against my skin. I pulled it tighter around myself, it had a reassuring weight. As it clung to my body, I felt an almost childlike sense of security, like I was tucked away from the harsh world and the memories I was unable to recall, just for a fleeting second.

“Let’s get you out of there,” he said, gently sliding his arm around me, pulling me up with an ease that made me feel like I weighed nothing. “And get you into some fresh clothes.”

My legs felt like jelly—useless, wobbly—but Jake held me steady like he’d been doing it forever. With his support, I managed to make it back to my bedroom. He laid out sweatpants, boxers, and a plain dark t-shirt on the bed next to me.

“Put this on,” he said, already halfway to the door. “I’ll be back.” And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone to change.

By the time he returned, I’d somehow managed to dress myself without collapsing, though my shaking body fought me all the way. Jake handed me a glass of water and some painkillers. I swallowed them and gulped down the whole glass. I was so dehydrated and my throat was parched from vomiting.

“What time is it?” I croaked.

“About noon,” he said, dragging my desk chair closer to the bed, sitting down with that casual confidence that always made me a little envious.

My eyes caught on the darkened patches on his blue t-shirt, the fabric still damp where water from my hair seeped into the soft cotton, the shirt clung to his shoulder where I rested.

“Jakey, what are you doing here?” I finally asked. My brain was still playing catch-up, but even in its fuzzy state, I knew Jake wasn’t supposed to be here. I was glad he was, but why?

“I got your voicemail,” he said simply.

I stared at him, trying to connect the dots. confusion clear on my face. 

“Well,” he continued, noticing the clear confusion on my face. He leaned back in the chair. “I was asleep when you called, but when I woke up, I saw you’d left me an, uh…” he paused, looking for the right word. “interesting message. Figured I should come check on you.”

A faint memory surfaced—me outside, calling someone. I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I—”

“Don’t.” Jake cut me off with a squeeze on my shoulder. “It’s fine, I was planning to come over anyway.”

“But what about your dad?”

Jake waved the question away like it was nothing. “He ditched me to hang out with Harry Clearwater.”

“Fishing?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“Yup, ‘cause sitting in total silence in the freezing cold is way better than spending time with me.” He laughed, and it was impossible not to laugh with him. That was the thing about Jake, he could light up even the darkest moments.

“I’m gonna make you some tea,” he said, standing up and ruffling my hair like I was a kid. “Lie down.”

I knew he was right, I should have lied down, my head was killing me. It felt like someone was step dancing on my brain. But lying down just didn’t feel right. So, instead of doing as I was told, I wrapped myself in a blanket and followed him downstairs.

Before I even stepped into the kitchen, I heard him sigh. “You never listen,” he muttered.

“I’m nothing if not consistent,” I said, slumping into one of the mismatched kitchen chairs.

Jake shook his head but didn’t say anything. I watched him as he put the kettle on, grabbed a mug, and started rummaging through the tea drawer.

“You look awful,” he stepped closer. His hand reached out, fingers combing through my damp hair, like he was checking to make sure I hadn’t actually started falling apart.

I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his shirt. I would never not be surprised at how muscular this gentle boy was. My brain still didn’t compute that the scrawny kid I used to race bikes with could now probably bench-press me. He felt solid—warm and steady in a way I didn’t know how to be anymore.

Not so long ago, this summer in fact, we’d been in this exact position. Except instead of being a hangover mess, I was a heartbroken mess, weeping over Paul. 

I realized, with a twist of something bitter in my chest, just how often Jake had been here, holding me together, consoling me after one more fight, one more breakup, one more of Paul’s drunken apologies. Though that time, it had been the final one.

The kettle beeped, snapping me out of my thoughts. Jake stepped back, already pouring water into the mug. “At least go sit on the couch,” he said, his voice softer now. “Please,” he added when I didn’t move.

I watched his steady hands for a few seconds more before finally giving in. The sunlight streaming through the kitchen window was too much, anyway. I left through the kitchen’s backdoor to the dining room and finally threw myself onto the couch in the living room, yanking the blanket over my head to shield my eyes from the sun’s painful glare.

The sound of the toaster dinging made me wince—it echoed in my head painfully, like a gunshot. I pressed the blanket tighter around me. Moments later, Jake appeared with a plate of dry toast and the mug of tea. He set them on the coffee table, then walked to the window and pulled the curtains closed.

“Better?” he asked, sitting beside me.

I nodded, hugging my knees to make room for him. He handed me the mug, his hands as steady as ever. I took a sip and the smoothing, warm liquid settled my stomach a bit. I rested my head on his shoulder, and we just sat together in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with years of knowing someone. By the time I’d finished the tea and nibbled my way through the toast, I felt almost human again.

Almost.

My thoughts drifted to Paul again. How many times had I been the one taking care of him? How many times had I dropped everything to pick him up from some party, drunk and out of his mind? How many times had he shown up on my doorstep, drunk, crying, begging me to take him back? How many times had we broken up and sworn it was for good? I’d lost count of how often I’d promised myself it would be the last time. More reasons to never drink this much again.

“Feeling better?” Jake asked, setting the empty mug back on the table.

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Drown in a bathtub, probably,” he said, his grin breaking through the seriousness.

I would’ve rolled my eyes if it hadn’t hurt my head. “Not my most dignified way to go,” I shot back.

Slowly, I stood up, stretching out my aching body. Every muscle protested, but staying still wasn’t an option. As I twisted my back, my eyes locked on the wall of family photographs in mismatched frames above the chest of drawers by the archway to the dining room. I remembered how, when my grandmother was alive, we’d visit graves on this day every year. It was a tradition we kept for All Saints’ Day—my grandmother insisted on it, saying it was important to remember. After she passed, though, the tradition had died with her. It wasn’t the same anymore, it felt empty. Like the heart of it had been buried alongside her.

I was never religious, spiritual or whatever, neither was Jake, but some traditions just stuck with us. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked over to the corner of the room.

The photos were as familiar as my own face. My grandparents. My mother’s brother—the uncle I’d never met. My godmother—Jake’s mom. And finally, Bianca. My little cousin.

I kissed two fingers and pressed them to her photo, a small gesture I hadn’t been able to let go of. One of those things that stayed with me no matter how much everything else changed.

I rummaged through the drawers, looking for a lighter or something to light a candle, but I couldn’t find anything. Before I could even sigh in frustration, Jake was by my side.

“Looking for something?” he asked, shaking a small box of matches in front of my face.

I managed a small smile as I took the matches from him. Striking one, I lit the candle on the chest of drawers and watched as the flame flickered to life, the wax slowly dripping down the sides, and the soft glow made the photos seem alive for a moment.

I glanced over at Jake and caught that sad smile he always wore when he thought about his mom. His gaze was fixed on her photo, and the weight of everything unsaid hung between us. Without a word, I reached for his hand, and we sank to the floor together, backs against the couch. This time, his head rested on my shoulder, a quiet role reversal that felt strange but not unwelcome. For a while, we just sat there in silence.

This time, his head rested on my shoulder, and for a while, we just sat there in silence. I couldn’t help but think how different everything was now. Traditions used to feel like a tether to something, but now they just made me miss what was gone.

“I remember that day,” Jake said after a while, his voice warm but touched with sadness.

“Hmm?” I asked, absently brushing his long hair out of his face as I stared at the photos.

“She took us on that ridiculously long hike. Rachel and Rebecca wouldn’t stop complaining about the bugs. You almost fell out of that tree, and by the time we got back, it was pitch black, and we were all covered in mosquito bites.” His smile widened, but there was a bittersweet edge to it.

The memory flooded back. His mom had been so full of life back then, before the accident, before everything changed.

“You dared me to climb that tree!” I protested.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he shot back, laughing. The laugh didn’t quite reach his eyes, though. His gaze lingered on the photo of his mom. “She was so patient with us… always finding ways to get us out of the house.”

I could see the heaviness in his expression, the familiar ache of remembering someone we both loved so much. I squeezed his hand tightly, hoping it was enough to let him know I got it.

His eyes shifted to Bianca’s photo. “She looks so young there,” he said quietly. He’d never met her, but he knew her through my stories.

“She’d just turned nine when I took that. It was her birthday.” My voice was barely above a whisper. The weight of what wasn’t said—that she didn’t live to see her tenth—hung between us for a moment.

I don’t know how long we sat like that, telling stories about our loved ones. How Jake’s mom used to make us elaborate breakfasts when I’d sleep over, how she’d help us pull off ridiculous pranks on Billy, the twins and my dad. He laughed, but I could feel a soft ache in his voice when he talked about her. I shared stories of Bianca—how obsessed she was with Halloween movies, how she’d watch them year-round, and how she would talk about all the different countries she’d traveled to with her parents. How they’d always brought me a copy of Pride and Prejudice from whatever country they visited because they knew it was my favorite.

It felt good to remember them, even if it hurt. Jake declared we needed a movie marathon to honor Bianca’s love for Halloween, and before long, we were halfway through The Addams Family. I lay on the couch, my head resting in his lap, the steady rhythm of his breathing easing my lingering headache.

Then, flashes of last night started creeping back in.

I gasped loudly.

“What?” Jake asked, startled, looking down at my mortified expression.

“Oh my god.” I stared at him, my face heating up. “I think I saw Jessica and Lauren kissing last night,” I said, still processing.

Jake burst out laughing. “Wait, what? Really? Those two? Are you serious?” he questioned in disbelief.

I nodded, laughing now too. “Yeah, I walked in on them in the bathroom, like full-on making out. They really should’ve locked the door.”

“But Jessica, really? I wouldn’t have guessed she was into girls after watching her chase after Newton for so long. I mean, Lauren doesn’t surprise me, but Jessica? Wait, is Newton still crushing on you?” he asked.

“Unfortunately,” I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“Damn,” Jake said, barely containing his laughter. “Who would’ve thought this little town was full of so many fruity teens?”

I slapped his arm, which only made him laugh harder.

“Oh, fuck,” he said between laughs. “I owe Kim twenty bucks now.”

“What for?”

“She bet me Jessica was gay.” He pulled out his phone, still grinning.

Normally, I’d feel bad gossiping about what I saw, but our group was different. No one would ever out anyone, especially not Kim—she’d been through that hell herself last year.

His laughter slowly faded as he stared at the screen. His smile faltered, replaced by shock—no, not shock… Amusement?

“What?” I asked, trying to move his hand down so I could see what got him so stunned.

But he quickly shifted his phone out of my view. “It’s nothing.”

“Jake, come on, let me see.” I lunged for the phone, but he kept it just out of reach. I sat up, trying again to snatch his phone, but he kept me at arm’s length. I felt just like when we were kids, “Stop messing with me. Just show me already!” I huffed. I managed to wrestle the phone out of his hand and scrambled to the other side of the couch, using my legs to keep him at bay.

“Beau, don’t—” Jake started, but it was too late. When I saw the screen, my stomach dropped.

The screen was open to Jake’s Instagram feed. And there I was.

Dozens of posts from last night’s party, and so many of them were… me. Plastered all over Instagram for everyone to see.

Me dancing. Singing. Drunk and wild, surrounded by friends, but mostly by people I barely even knew. Me sitting in the splits, drinking whisky straight from the bottle. Me acting out a scene from Doctor Who with a guy dressed as the Eleventh Doctor, screaming, “This is not war, this is pest control!” at the top of my lungs. And worst of all—videos of me standing on a coffee table, karaoke mic in hand, leading the entire basement in some chaotic singalong. I couldn’t even remember getting up there. I suppose that’s why my throat was so raw.

With every photo, every video, my chest got tighter, the embarrassment growing. My heart pounded as I scrolled through all the posts, faster and faster, each one making me feel smaller, more exposed. Little chunks the night started coming back, but it was disjointed—patchy, like a shattered mirror.

The phone slipped from my hands, clattering onto the couch as I curled in on myself, covering my face. My breath came in short, sharp bursts.

“Oh God,”I mumbled through my hands, my voice barely audible. “Everyone saw… all of that.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Jake said, his voice softer now. I could hear him moving closer, but I couldn’t look at him.

“It’s worse than bad.” My words barely made it out through my shaking breaths. “I look like a complete idiot.”

“No, you look like you were having fun,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “...finally,” he teased gently, his thumb rubbing small circles on my back.

“Nooo, I look like I’ve completely lost my mind. They’re all probably laughing at me,” I mumbled through my hands, trying to block out the world, trying to shrink into myself. I could feel the tears stinging the back of my eyes. I tried to hold them back, but the harder I tried, the harder it got to breathe.

Jake shifted beside me, gently resting his hand on my shoulder. “Hey, listen to me.” His voice was calm—steady. The voice he used when I was spiraling, the same one I usually used for him.

But this wasn’t supposed to be me. I was the steady one. I was the one who kept it together. Not this. Not this.

I shook my head violently, trying to block out his voice, block out the memories, block out everything. “I can’t. I can’t. Everyone’s going to see this, Jake. They’re going to think I’m some kind of idiot. I just… I just stopped being the new guy, and now I’ve made a total fool of myself. I’m going to be the school joke.”

“No one’s going to think that,” Jake said firmly. “Beau, no one is laughing at you. They’re laughing with you. People liked you last night. They were having fun with you.”

“But I don’t even remember it!” My breathing was sharp and uneven now, my chest heaving. “I always remember, Jake. Always. That’s who I am. I’m the one who keeps everything in line, who looks out for everyone else. I’m not… this.” My hands were trembling as I pressed them to my face, trying to block out the light, block out his words.

Jake didn’t say anything right away. Instead, his hand tightened on my shoulder. His voice softened, but there was no mistaking the steel beneath it. “Beau, you don’t have to be the responsible one all the time. You’re allowed to let go. You’re allowed to have fun without worrying about everyone else. Hell, you deserve to have fun for once.”

I peeked at him through my fingers, my chest still tight, but his expression—so open, so Jake—helped the anxiety ease just a little.

“You weren’t acting like a fool,” he continued. “You were acting like yourself. The Beau I know when it’s just us. The one who’s goofy and confident and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.”

I let out a shaky laugh, though it felt like it caught in my throat. “I’m pretty sure everyone’s going to care what they saw.”

“They won’t,” Jake said, his thumb drawing lazy circles on my back. “I promise. And if anyone gives you crap, they’ll have to deal with me.”

That got a weak smile out of me, just enough to ease the suffocating weight on my chest. Jake grinned in response and ruffled my hair, the way he always did when we were kids. “There’s the Beau I know. Now, come on. Let’s finish the movie and forget about this.” He pressed play on the remote.

His words sank in slowly, calming me down little by little.Maybe he was right. It wasn’t like I’d done anything outrageous—just acted carefree for once. And maybe that wasn’t the end of the world.

Jake stood up, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make you more tea. Just take a breath, ‘kay?”

As soon as he disappeared around the corner, the silence crashed down on me, and my mind started racing faster than I could keep up. The calm Jake had wrapped me in unraveled, thread by thread, until I felt raw and exposed again.

I shifted off the couch, restless, and went to find my journal—the only thing that ever helped me organize the chaos in my head. It was on the floor of my room. Grabbing it, I headed back to the couch while Jake clattered through the kitchen drawers.

Flipping it open, I found the entry I’d written before leaving the house, still neat and carefully written, almost mocking me with how composed it was. As if everything in my life was perfectly under control.

But nothing about that night had been in control.

Just beneath the entry, my stomach clenched at the sight of something unexpected—an almost illegible scrawl.

I blinked, staring at the uneven letters, the ink smudged in places. It was definitely mine, but I didn’t remember writing that.

 I could barely make out a few words. 

I don’t feel so good

I didn’t remember feeling sick until this morning. I frowned, reading it again. Then my eyes moved a few lines of unreadable squiggles down the page.

…Edward was…

I froze. Edward was what?

The rest was gibberish, just scribbled lines that meant nothing to me now. The sentence ended abruptly, the letters dissolving into an unrecognizable mess, like I’d lost control of my hand… or mind. As if I’d written it in a daze, before dropping the pen and giving up completely.

Panic started creeping in again, tightening its grip on my chest. What did Edward have to do with any of it? Exactly how much had I forgotten? How is it even possible to forget this much? What’s the point of doing anything if you couldn’t remember it after? My mind was supposed to be sharp and clear, not filled with holes and gaps. I tried to take a deep breath, but all I could think was that I’d completely lost control. I needed to remember. It felt like my life depended on it, as if I would fall apart if I didn’t find those missing pieces.

I grabbed a pen from the back cover, flipping past the scrawled page and landing on a blank one. I sank onto the floor in between the couch and the coffee table. I placed the journal flat on the wooden surface, staring at the yellowish paper like it held the answers.

The words didn’t come easily, not like they usually did. But I forced myself to start writing, trying to piece together the fragments of the night, organizing the flashes of memory that I could recall. Each word on the page helped steady me, pulling me out of the spiral of panic.

The blur of Jessica’s party.

The music was way too loud, the lights too bright, but I forced myself to stay and look for my friends. The suffocating crush of people, so many faces I barely recognized. Jessica dragging me to our group—most of them dressed as Mario characters, laughing and loud, already tipsy.

The memories came in fragments, disjointed but slowly fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Each time I wrote down something, a new image or sensation would pop up. I kept going, writing faster, trying to capture everything before it slipped away again.

We played a drinking game… Edward and Alice were there.

I remember trying not to stare at Edward, dressed as Mr. Darcy. I couldn’t help but think he looked perfect, like he’d just stepped out of one of those Austen adaptations. Every time he caught me glancing at him, I’d snap my head away, pretending to focus on the game.

That was where I took my first sip of alcohol. Bitter, burning, but I forced it down anyway. I didn’t want to seem out of place. Not there. Not in front of Edward.

Was this what I tried to write about before? Edward was… Mr. Darcy? I hope that was it. But with my luck, though, it probably wasn’t the end of it.

The pen stilled in my hand as another fragment surfaced.

One by one, people drifted to the dance floor, leaving Edward and me alone. We talked—about everything and nothing. I couldn’t remember most of the details, but I remembered how easy it had felt. How I didn’t have to fake a single smile with him.

The shrill whistle of the kettle snapped me back to the present, my heart still pounding.

Jake returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs. His eyes flicked to my face, filled with quiet concern. He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he set my cup on the table next to me and slid onto the couch behind me, quietly, close enough for me to know he was there for me but not so close that it felt suffocating.

I focused on the journal in front of me, the steady sound of the pen scratching against the paper mixed with the faint noise of the movie credits rolling, the occasional sigh slipping from my lips.

I paused, my hand gripping the pen tightly, heart raced as the next memory forced its way to the surface. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to stay calm as I wrote:

I bumped into someone. There was a loud shattering noise, and the sharp smell of alcohol hit me like a wave. The sound of breaking glass echoed in my head, growing louder and louder, until it was unbearable. I remember running, no plan, no destination in mind just pushing through the crowd, gasping for air. Then I was outside, my back was pressed to a wall, hugging my knees. I couldn’t breathe. The world was spinning, my thoughts crashing into each other, tangled and incoherent. Everything felt too loud—my heartbeat, the faint music still pumping inside, the echo of glass shattering over and over in my head. My chest tightened, my breath shallow and erratic.

Until he showed up. Edward.

I didn’t even realize he’d followed me at first. I was too far gone in my head, stuck in that awful memory, trying so hard to shove it into the back of my mind. His presence broke through the noise, anchored me somehow. I hadn’t been able to calm down on my own, but he guided me through it—slow, steady breaths until the world stopped spinning. The panic didn’t disappear right away, but it faded enough that I could breathe again. I could feel the air in my lungs.

I didn’t know what to say. I felt embarrassed, like I’d somehow ruined everything, ruined his night, made a fool of myself. But he didn’t leave. He didn’t look at me any differently, just stayed there with me, quiet and calm, giving me all the space I needed. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that.

It was strange how safe I felt with him there, the way his presence alone made everything feel less terrifying. I’d expected him to push for an explanation, but he didn’t. He gave me time, gave me a choice, and didn’t ask for more than I could give. It made all the difference.

I didn’t say much. I couldn’t. The memories were too close, too raw. But eventually, I managed to stand, and he helped me without making a big deal out of it. His hands steadied me, kept me upright when I wasn’t sure I could do it myself. 

I didn’t realize I was nervously shaking my leg until I felt Jake’s hand making slow circles on my back.

I remember being pressed against the wall, my hands on Edward’s chest, his face so close to mine, I could feel his breath on my lips. For a second, it felt like time had stopped. I don’t know if I imagined it, but it seemed like there was something unspoken between us. His hands rested beside my shoulders, caging me in, but in a way that felt safe, comforting. He confessed he got panic attacks as well… and I couldn’t believe it.

I remember his eyes the most vividly. The light outside hitting them just right, making them seem more green than brown, reflecting the night sky perfectly. Those starry eyes sparking up my darkest night. 

His lips were so close to mine, closer than ever before and like an idiot (that I am) I thought he was finally going to kiss me.

But then, he was gone. Just like that. One second, he was there, and the next, he wasn’t. I don’t even know if it really happened, or if my mind made it all up.

Did he leave or did I imagine the whole thing?

Maybe this was what I tried to write? Maybe the ‘was’ was meant to be a ‘wasn’t.’

Edward wasn’t really there? But I don’t know.

Jake threw the blanket back over my shoulders and started to carefully comb through my tangled hair. My pen stilled as I tried to recall more, but everything was so fuzzy and the events didn’t fit together.

After Edward (real or not) was gone I just grabbed a bottle and drank until the burn in my throat matched the numbness in my chest. The room spun around me, and everything felt hazy. The crowd of dancing teens closed in on me, drowning out my thoughts. I wasn’t thinking anymore, just letting the noise and the alcohol take over.

I remember being in a room filled with smoke, everyone too high or too drunk to care about anything. I remember someone getting way too close to me. They kept trying to give me a joint and didn’t take no for an answer. I could feel their insistence, pressing the joint to my lips.

Is that why my memory is so hazy? Contact high? Or maybe I did smoke something and didn’t remember?

I tried to think harder, but nothing solid came, just flashes of faces, laughter, and noise.

I think that’s when Alice showed up and dragged me out of there before I could get in too deep. Thank whoever is watching over me for Alice I guess. I was relieved, even though I tried to laugh it off like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing. I was just pretending it was.

We were back at the dance floor… still dizzy, my thoughts spinning as much as the room was.

I remember Jessica and Lauren kissing in the bathroom. I walked in on them… Someone else handed me another drink. I think it was the guy dressed as the Eleventh Doctor… he challenged me to some drinking game, but I don’t remember who won. At some point, I was standing on the table, screaming the words to some song.

The last thing I remember was the wet grass underneath me. I remember feeling completely helpless. Tears rolling down my face. I guess that when I called Jake, begging him to come get me, not knowing what else to do. I was stuck there, on someone’s lawn, in the middle of the night, too drunk and too scared to figure it out myself.

I dropped the pen, frustrated, my chest still heaving with the remnants of anxiety. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. The more I tried to piece everything together, the more everything blurred and unraveled. I couldn’t remember it all. Not clearly. Not in the way I needed to. I wasn’t even sure how much was real and how much I just pieced together from what other people said or posted online.

I still couldn’t recall how I got home. Or when and where I heard that melody—the one that had been haunting me since I woke up, constantly playing in the back of my mind. It didn’t seem like something that Jessica would put on her party playlist, and it definitely wasn’t in any of the videos I’ve seen on Instagram. The melody played over and over in his head. It was haunting, familiar yet elusive, something I couldn’t quite grasp but couldn’t ignore either. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t leave me alone.

I buried my face in my hands, my mind spinning all over again. It was all too much.

What if I’d said or done something really, really stupid? What if everyone was laughing about it right now, somewhere I couldn’t hear, but I could still feel it?

Jake’s voice cut through the fog. “Hey. You okay?”

I didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. Instead, I stared down at the journal, the words blurring on the page. “Jake…” My voice came out shaky, almost broken. I took a sip of the now lukewarm tea. “I don’t remember writing this.” I pointed to the messy entry from last night.

He leaned over to glance at the scrawled mess of words. He didn’t laugh, didn’t shrug it off the way I half-expected him to. He just studied the page, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe you were just really drunk, and it was nothing. You probably won’t remember everything. And that’s okay.”

 I shook my head sharply, frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s the whole problem. I never forget details like this,” I snapped, my voice rising, strained with panic. “I remember everything, Jake. That’s who I am.”

Jake leaned back a little, watching me carefully. “You’ve never been drunk before,” he said, his tone still calm but firmer this time. “This was your first time, and you drank a lot. That’s gonna mess with your memory, Beau. It doesn’t mean you did something terrible. You were just having fun. You weren’t hurting anyone.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream that he didn’t understand, that it wasn’t fun, it wasn’t just some blurry night I could laugh about later. But the words caught in my throat, stuck behind the rising lump of panic.

Jake shifted closer, his hand resting lightly on my back, rubbing slow circles again. “Beau,” he finally said, “you’re always the one looking out for everyone else. You’re always the guy making sure we don’t do anything stupid, the one who drives us home, the one who fixes everything. It’s okay to have an off night. It’s okay to let someone take care of you for once.”

I stiffened at his words. He wasn’t wrong, but that only made it harder to hear. I didn’t know how to let someone else take the wheel, didn’t know how to be the one who needed help. It made me feel… weird. Out of place. Like I’d stepped into someone else’s life, where Jake was the steady and calm one, and I was the mess.

“I don’t like this,” I muttered, my voice small. “I don’t like not knowing.”

“I know,” Jake said quietly. He didn’t push, just stayed there, his hand still tracing those slow, steady circles on my back.

The silence stretched between us until Jake finally broke it with a laugh. “Hey, you know my first time drinking wasn’t so great either, right?”

I glanced at him, frowning. “You told me it was awesome. You said it was the best night of your life.”

Jake smirked, leaning back. “Yeah, because I wanted you and everyone else to think I was cool. Truth? I got so drunk I thought it’d be a good idea to try a cigarette. Puked my guts out right after.”

I blinked at him, caught off guard. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, grinning. “I spent the rest of the night throwing up in some bush. Walked home at four in the morning because I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. Haven’t touched a cigarette since.”

Despite myself, I laughed—a quick, startled sound that bubbled out before I could stop it. “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” Jake admitted with a shrug. “But at least I’m an honest idiot now.” His grin widened, warm and teasing. “And hey, if you ever want to talk embarrassing drunk stories, I’m here for you.”

I shook my head, still laughing softly, and took another sip of tea. The tension in my chest started to loosen, like I could breathe a little easier. Jake always had this way about him, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

“You’re gonna be okay, Beau,” he said again, quieter this time, his voice sure. “It doesn’t matter if you remember everything. You’re still you.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and stared back down at the journal. The panic was still there, lurking at the edges, but it felt quieter now. Manageable. Maybe I didn’t have to figure everything out right this second. Maybe it was okay to let go. Just for a little while.

And then, just as that thought settled into place, I heard the front door unlock.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m back,” Dad’s voice came from the entryway. The door clicked shut behind him as he made his way into the living room, carrying two large pizza boxes. He paused when he saw Jake sitting there, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Jake? Didn’t expect you to be here,” he said, setting the pizzas on the table with a soft thud. “Everything alright?”

I glanced at Jake, who gave me a subtle nod, like everything was perfectly fine, and I was just… fine, too. Whatever that meant.

“Yeah, just hanging out,” Jake said casually, though I caught the small glance he shot my way.

“You’re kinda late, though,” I added, settling back on the couch, attempting to sound casual, even though I was still a little out of it. “Did something happen?”

Dad sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Should’ve texted you. Some kids thought it’d be a great idea to sneak out and go into the woods in the middle of the night. Their parents didn’t even realize they were gone until the morning, so we had to search for ‘em.”

I blinked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… a lot.”

Dad shrugged, giving me a tired smile. “Yeah, but everyone’s fine. Just a little scared and cold, nothing too serious.” He reached for one of the pizza boxes. “Pizza time, though. You ready?”

“Hands?” I shot a pointed look at him before he could even open it.

Dad rolled his eyes, giving me a half-grin. “Right. Right. I'll be back.”

With that, he made his way to the bathroom, leaving Jake and me alone for a moment.

I let out a long sigh, the kind that felt like it came from somewhere deep in my chest. “I really didn’t need to hear that. Kids are idiots. All of them.” I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts but failing. “So, what’ve you been up to? Besides witnessing my life unravel?”

Jake chuckled, leaning back into the couch, still looking entirely too chill for someone who was hanging out with a mess like me. “Oh, you know, the usual. Can’t say I was thrilled about seeing you spiral earlier, though. But I guess you’re doing better now, huh?”

“I guess,” I muttered, feeling the awkwardness rise between us. I always hated when people saw me like that. Vulnerable. Weak.

Dad came back in a minute later, washed up and ready to eat. “Mind if I join you guys for a movie?”

Jake gave a quick shrug, his eyes already lighting up at the pizza. “Sure. No problem.”

With that, we all settled in. I hadn’t even noticed Jake had already put on another Halloween movie, though I didn’t recognize it. But by the looks of it, it was some newer horror flick—probably one of those that Jake had pestered me to watch before, but I’d been too busy to bother with.

It was… nice, in a weird way. The three of us dug into the pizza, making our way through slice after slice. The greasy cheese, the cheap crust, none of it mattered. It was exactly what I needed to clear my head. Or maybe just distract myself for a little while. Same difference. It wasn’t perfect, but it was comfortable. We stayed like that for hours, watching more movies than I could keep track of, occasionally cracking jokes and making fun of how ridiculous the plots were or predicting who’d get axed off next.

At some point, I caught Jake glancing at me, his expression soft. Full of that unspoken understanding he always seemed to carry around. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. We both knew I was still kind of a mess. But for now? That was fine.

As the night wore on, the conversation shifted. Jake and Dad started talking about local news—the kind of stuff that always made me tune out. I rested my chin on my hand, my eyes fixed on the TV, though I wasn’t really watching anymore. But then something caught my attention.

They were talking about people going missing.

At first, it sounded like random gossip. Dad mentioned some kids who had gone missing out near Port Angeles. Jake chimed in about a group of teenagers from Forks who were supposed to start college in Seattle, but after a few weeks, they just disappeared. No one heard from them for months, and then one day, they just... came back. No explanation. They didn’t return to college, didn’t say why they left. Just picked up their lives again like nothing happened.

“Stuff like that’s been happening all over,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “Not just here—Port Angeles, Seattle, even down in Olympia. People go missing for weeks, sometimes months. Then they show up like nothing’s wrong. Half the time, they won’t say a word about where they’ve been.”

“Maybe they just ran off,” Jake suggested, though there was a note of doubt in his voice. “You know, like kids needing to get away from their parents or something.”

Dad shook his head. “Maybe. But it’s not just teenagers.”

I sat up straighter, my interest piqued. “Wait. So... they just show up out of nowhere? Like, they don’t remember anything?”

Dad glanced at me, surprised I was actually paying attention. “Some say they don’t. Others just refuse to talk about it. It’s weird, though. Like they’re hiding something.”

“Or like something’s hiding it for them,” I said before I could stop myself. The words hung in the air, heavier than I intended.

Jake shot me a look, his eyebrows raised. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think aliens are snatching people up or something?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Jake. I don’t think it’s aliens.” Though now that he said it, I couldn’t help but wonder. “I just think it’s… I don’t know. Suspicious. People don’t just vanish and come back like that without a reason.”

“Could be cults,” Jake said, clearly enjoying the conversation a little too much. “Or Bigfoot.”

“Cults?” Dad cut in, laughing. “You’ve been watching too many Netflix documentaries.”

“Hey, it happens,” Jake said, grinning. “You never know. Forks is, like, prime cult territory. All these woods? No one would even hear you scream.”

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. “You’re an idiot.”

Dad sighed, leaning forward to grab another slice. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s unsettling. Makes you wonder if it’s just coincidence or if something bigger’s going on.”

I didn’t say anything, but the conversation stuck with me. Missing people, strange behavior, unanswered questions—it felt too close to home. Like the kind of thing I’d read about in one of those mystery novels Mom used to love. Except this was real. And way harder to shake off.

“Hey, Charlie, you think I could crash here tonight?” Jake asked, breaking the silence. “It’s late, and I don’t feel like going back.”

Dad waved his hand dismissively. “Sure, Jake. You’re always welcome here. Just tell Billy where you are.”

Jake gave a small fist pump, obviously relieved. “Thanks.”

When Dad went to the kitchen to grab a soda, I quickly stood up, feeling a bit awkward. “I’ll get a mattress for you,” I said.

Jake raised his eyebrows. “You sure? I can just sleep in the guest bedroom.”

“Nope. We’re making it a proper sleepover.”

Jake gave me a small, amused smile as I went to set up the mattress in my room, making it as comfy as I could, remembering all the sleepovers we’d had as kids. I found some clothes Jake had left during the summer stuffed at the bottom of my closet. When I came back downstairs, I threw them at him without warning. He didn’t even flinch, just caught them and held them up like they were a prize.

“Your new pajamas,” I said dryly.

Jake grinned. “Sweet.”

“I’m gonna get ready for bed. You need anything else?” I asked before heading upstairs to the bathroom.

“Nope, I’m good,” Jake said. Then, just as I started up the steps, he called out, “Just don’t drown in the bathtub.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face.

By the time I was done and got to my room, Jake had already made himself at home. He was sprawled out on the mattress in an old T-shirt and sweatpants, looking completely relaxed.

I went over to the bed, grabbed a pillow, tossed it to the foot of the bed, and flopped down, lying on my stomach to look down at Jake.

“You good?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Jake said with a grin, patting the mattress. “It’s just like old times.”

I flipped onto my back, letting my head fall on to the pillow, feeling the exhaustion hit me all at once. We talked for a while about everything that’d been going on, and eventually, I opened up a little about the party. After all that happened, Jake deserved some details.

“So, what’s going on with you and that guy?” Jake asked suddenly. Jake asked suddenly, catching me completely off guard. “You gonna ask him out soon?”

I froze. “What?”

I rolled onto my stomach again, propping myself up on my elbows to glare at him. Jake was smirking, his eyes glinting in the dim light from the lamp on my nightstand.

 “Come on. I know you’ve got a thing for someone. You’re not fooling me.”

“I mean… maybe.” I tried to sound casual, but my heart was already hammering in my chest. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, but Jake looked like he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Who? Spill.”

I shook my head, hoping he’d drop it. Of course, he didn’t.

“Come on, man. You’ve been all sighs and puppy eyes over someone for weeks. I’m assuming it’s not me?” He added the last part with a teasing wink.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up. It’s not you.”

“So, who is it?” Jake prodded again, leaning up on his elbows, his face suddenly serious.

I bit my lip, unsure how to answer. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not that big of a deal,” I muttered, sinking my chin into the pillow. “I don’t think he likes me back.”

Jake sat up and leaned over the bed, his face close enough that I couldn’t ignore him. “Well, that’s just dumb. You’ll never know unless you shoot your shot.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, more for the dramatic effect than anything else. “Says the guy who’s been pining over a girl for, what, a year now, and hasn’t asked her out.”

Jake immediately groaned, flopping back down on the mattress with a loud huff. “Don’t bring up Leah,” Jake said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. “You know I’m bad at feelings.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, pathetic, really. Both of us. Just in different ways.”

Jake cracked a grin, and we both ended up laughing, the awkwardness dissolving into something lighter. “Yeah, alright. But you should still ask him out. You never know.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue more. “Maybe one day.”

We lay there in silence for a little while longer, both of us letting the conversation fade away as sleep began to take over. But even as Jake’s breathing slowed, my mind refused to shut up. It kept circling back to Edward. To that damn party. To what happened—or didn’t. The confusion. The unspoken things and the mysterious melody that still clung to the back of my mind.

Even with Jake there, the room felt empty.

I reached for my journal on the nightstand, flipping it open and grabbing a pen, though I couldn’t really find the right words to write. My mind kept coming back to the same thing: Edward. To those eyes—the way they seemed to catch the light like there was some secret he wasn’t telling me. To everything that was still left unspoken between us.

The words spilled onto the page, lyrics I didn’t even know I was thinking.

“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus

When her body was found

I’d be the choiceless hope in grief

That drove him underground.”

My pen hesitated, but the thoughts kept rushing in, unrelenting.

“And I’d be the dreadful need in the devotee

That made him turn around,

And I’d be the immediate forgiveness

In Eurydice,

Imagine being loved by me.

I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do

So I’ll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I’m imaginin’ you”

I stared at the page, feeling my chest ache. I didn’t know why Edward made me feel this way—like there was something I could almost touch but couldn’t quite reach. Like he was just out of my grasp, no matter how much I wanted him to be close.

I scribbled idly on the side of the page, the lines forming the rough shape of Edward as Mr. Darcy, complete with a ridiculous regency coat, his shirt half-open, drenched in rain. I tried to capture that look in his eyes, the way they shone, like they were holding the stars in them. But it wasn’t right, no matter how hard I tried.

Something about it was off, though I couldn’t tell what. That something that made Edward… well, Edward was missing. I couldn’t capture that beauty, that indescribable something about him. It just wasn’t something you could put on paper.

I sighed, jotting beneath the sketch: No drawing could do you justice anyway.

Closing the journal, I set it aside and flicked off the lamp. The room plunged into darkness, but my mind stayed awake, circling the same thought over and over again: Edward.

And how much it hurt to feel this way when I knew I’d never have the courage to tell him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving kudos or a comment on AO3—it really means a lot! You can also let me know your thoughts here on Tumblr. Your support keeps me motivated to keep writing!

See the previous chapter: here or on ao3

Check out the next chapter: coming soon

[ashton-ryder]

Ash offered Beau a small smile to his assurance of the good the bad and the ugly with Ashton. He's tried to keep all the bad and the ugly away from people as much as he could. But knew Beau was always genuine with his words, when he says anything, Ash knows he means anything. There was always a comfort in confiding in his close friend, far away removed enough from the whole Sada mess of it all, close enough to trust that he listens, and cares, without judgement. It was a simple smile, complicated in its own right but simple in encapsulating two words, I know. Before he really caved in to the temptation to let go of the guards, letting kind words and the warmth on his back convince him.

"I'm.. trying," taking care of himself was a tall order, knowing he's more useful elsewhere. The garden, the water supply, the runs, the hordes, the raiders, his mind never stops running either. "Well someone said some fresh air and sun would be good for me after the quarantine," Ash couldn't help cut in the nagging with his own joke, cut through with a lightness with a reminder that Beau was the one to invite him up here and see the new garden. He won't be held responsible for getting to work when he sees there's work to be done.

But he lightly shook his head to dismiss the apology, "then aren't we the same? Just can't help but worry all day long." Beau was always the personification of soft, can't even get nagged at by him without him apologizing for it. "Thank you then, for worrying, really." Ash exhaled keeping his gaze down at the soil, Ziggy always called him a superman but he certainly doesn't feel like one. Broken, useless. "I'll try, I just- I wouldn't know what to do with my time. There's so much to do, it's hard to turn it off." And silently he saw it as a solution to finally getting some sleep, work himself to the bone until his body has no choice but to break down and give in to his hopes at slumber.

It caught him off guard off when Beau continued, offering, asking for anything to help him with, Ash was never good with things like this, being asked if there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, his mind always draws a blank. He blinked and let a soft smile do the talking, of thanking him for the gesture, while his mind tried to grasp at something useful. Thinking for himself was hard for Ashton Ryder. His eyes darted around the roof, "um.." dismissing that he didn't need anything felt like a lie and Beau didn't deserve a lie from him. "if-.. could you just, help me look out for Ruth?" his words were slow and cautious, as if afraid to make a request to burden the weight of someone else shoulders. Ash still avoided thinking of a request for himself, but this was close enough, "she just got back and she's already stretched thin. I'd help her out but.. she wouldn't let me, considering this," gesturing to himself and the condition he's in.

for a moment, beau wonders if his friend intends to dismiss the question. there's a silence that lingers between them for a beat after he asks it, but it is starkly dissimilar to the familiar, comfortable quiet that had fallen over them in the midst of their shared task ; no, it's as if ashton is almost hesitant to answer. that, or he's surprised that beau's even asked him at all. maybe both. ( if beau thinks that ash should know him better by now, he doesn't say as much ― even just a lighthearted joke , one made with good intention, feels out of place here as they teeter on the precipice of a potentially vulnerable moment. ) when he lifts his gaze, beau meets it, his own eyes both concerned and imploring. he's not asking to be polite.

in spite of this, ashton starts to answer him and beau can hear it in his voice even when he's not said more than a single word ― the casual dismissal. the only problem is, beau doesn't buy it. not for a second. and, without being pushy, he intends to tell his friend as much. he's not given the chance, though, before ash is trailing off himself, rethinking his answer. beau wipes the soil from his hands and sits back on his heels and gives the other man his undivided attention. ❝ yeah, really, ❞ he says, an encouraging nod tilting his head forward. ❝ c'mon, man, y'know you can talk to me about anythin', right? ❞

there's something about the way he says alive that just doesn't sit quite right with beau, even if in his heart, he knows it's all anyone can well and truly hope for these days. the bar shouldn't be set so low. all the same, when he offers a soft, ❝ well, i'm glad for that, ❞ he means it. he reaches out then, and where he might normally clap his shoulder in a show of support, his friend's injury has his hand hovering awkwardly for a second before it finds his back instead. there's sympathy in his gaze, softening the concern. there it is. the truth behind the instinctive defense ― even if he does try to ease the sting of it with a reassurance.

❝ ya gotta take care of yourself, ash, ❞ beau says. ❝ even if you're not sleepin', you should be tryin' to rest. and look at you, up here workin' on the garden with your one good arm. y'ain't never not doin' somethin', are ya? ❞ he sighs, pulling his hand back and dropping it in his lap, but his gaze remains on ashton. ❝ i'm sorry, i don't mean t'scold ya, i know it ain't my place, it's just ― well, tellin' me not to worry is like tellin' a moth not to fly into a porch light. i ain't fixin' to listen, and i'm gonna do it 'til i'm dizzy. i can't help it. ❞ beau chuckles then, a little self-depricating in his own right. ❝ if there's anythin' i can do for you, brother, anythin' at all, you just say the word. i mean it.❞

[tarydarrington]

Veth doesn’t know who she’d expected to be waiting on the other side of the knock at the door, but if she’d had to guess, Essek Thelyss wringing his hands like a worried grandmother would have been near the bottom of her list.

“Oh,” she says. “Hi?”

He bobs his head, almost more a quick bow than a nod, tenting his fingers in front of his chest. “Good afternoon,” he says, with the distinct cadence of someone who has repeated the words to himself in the mirror all morning. “I hope you are well?”

“I’m all right,” Veth answers haltingly.

The two of them stand there for a moment, awkward silence hanging between them. Then, finally, Essek gives her a nervous smile.

“I do not wish to impose, but, ah…” He gestures past her. “May I enter?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She steps aside, and Essek gives her a grateful nod before walking - walking? - past her into the living room. “Take a seat, if you like.”

He takes the invitation, perching gingerly onto the very edge of the armchair they keep for their larger-sized guests. Veth follows him in, shutting the door behind her and wondering if this isn’t all a very strange dream. Essek barely meets her gaze as she circles around to stand before him. She leans forward, narrowing her eyes.

"What is this? Why are you being weird? Did something happen? Did Caleb die?"

"No!" Essek reins in his volume, pressing his palms together in apology. "No, certainly not. It is simply…"

Veth raises her eyebrows to prompt him.

"Well, I, ah…" His fingers draw little circles in the air, as though he can pull the words out like a spell. "I have read that it is custom in the Empire to request the blessing of a guardian if one wishes to…" The pained look on his face stretches even further. "Court."

Veth blinks at him. He’s serious. He has to be. That face, all pinched up towards the middle, reminds her of the way the neighbor boy looked when he admitted to breaking her dining room window. It looks absolutely absurd on the former Shadowhand.

"Well, I'm sure he would be flattered, but even with the slower aging, Luc's a little young for you."

She can practically see the joke fly over his head. "No," Essek blurts hurriedly, eyes blown wide with mortification. Veth might have laughed if she didn't feel a bit guilty. "No, I…" He brings one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut, and she suspects he's rooted out the sarcasm.

"If you're talking about Caleb," she says as a peace offering, "I'm certainly not his mother."

"No." Essek presses his palms together again, this time in his lap. "I have considered ways to make a meaningful gesture regarding his parents, but…"

He shakes his head. Veth can fill in the blanks. She wouldn't want the beginning of a new relationship to be tangled up in past trauma, either.

"So," he continues. "I had thought, perhaps, that as his closest friend, you might be a suitable alternative."

Well, that’s… She isn’t sure if it’s flattering, exactly, but she’ll accept the show of respect. She takes a moment to scrutinize him as he watches her apprehensively. Essek and Caleb. Caleb and Essek. It makes a certain kind of sense. Once, years ago, she might have railed against it; despite his growth, it’s still difficult sometimes to look at Essek and see anything other than her husband’s former jailer.

But lately, these last few years, Veth has been at home. She’s been with her family, the most important people in the world to her, and Caleb… well, he’s been off on his own adventures. And without Veth there to look after him, it’s been on Essek’s shoulders to make sure he comes back from said adventures alive and whole. Which he has, so far, without fail.

And that look Essek is giving her, as though if she says no, it might actually dissuade him?

"First of all," she begins with a sigh, "you’re not at court. You’re not courting. You're dating."

At the look of confusion on Essek's face, she takes a deep breath.

"You'll take him to have a meal together, or to see a play, or to watch a lecture. Don't do the lecture thing, that's a bad idea. That would be a terrible date." She pauses. "Although, with you two, maybe."

She can tell from the look on his face that she's losing him, so she waves her hands. "Nevermind that. Disregard all of that. The point is, you'll take him to nice places and do enjoyable things together."

Essek shifts uncomfortably. “I… don’t know if I can do that,” he admits. “I cannot be seen outside of the confines of his home or areas outside of the Empire.”

Veth frowns. “Well, you’re going to have to take him somewhere. You have disguises, right?”

Essek seems to consider it. “I do,” he says. “I suppose it would be worth a small risk, from time to time.”

“You’re darn right,” Veth agrees. “And don’t skimp, either. Caleb deserves the best.”

Essek nods entirely too seriously, as though he’s filing all this away in his mind. Veth makes a mental note to pester him with a progress report in about six months’ time.

Not one too rigorous, though. It’s hard to imagine prodding at him for entertainment’s sake when he looks so pathetic.

“Is there anything else?” he asks tentatively, when the silence persists.

“Well, let’s see.” She runs a finger over her chin, theatrically deep in thought. She already knows her answer. “Do you care for him?”

“Of course.” The sincerity on his face almost makes her feel bad about this. “More deeply than I have ever cared for anyone.”

She shouldn’t ask. It’s probably not something he’s discussed with Caleb himself, yet, if they’re only just now getting together. It would be prying, even for her. “Do you love him?” she asks, anyway.

A little, lost smile turns up one corner of Essek’s lips, and it’s almost a whisper when he replies, “How could I not?”

A pang of something that has never quite left Veth’s heart smarts for the first time in years, and she looks away with a matching smile.

When she and Caleb had been traveling with the others, people tended to hem and haw when she brought up how amazing Caleb was. They thought he was talented, sure, but it sometimes felt like none of the others could see the unquenchable light in him. But looking at Essek’s face, at the way his eyes are shining, Veth can’t help but think that maybe, finally, somebody gets it.

"Alright." She reaches out, and before he can flinch away, pats his hand. "You've convinced me. You have earned my permission to have regular sex with my adult, human son."

“I…” His brow furrows. “Truly?”

“Yeah, go nuts.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Caleb’s a grown adult. He can make his own choices, and if he’s choosing you, then good for both of you.”

Essek blinks at her like she’s just handed him a full pardon from the Bright Queen.

“I mean, obviously, if you hurt him, you will have all of us to answer to,” she says. “But you’re the guilt guy, so I think you’ll probably have yourself to answer to, first.”

"I…" He clasps his hands together. "I expected more… what is the word? Pushback.”

Veth braces her hands on her hips. “You know what? Fjord and Jester didn’t even tell me they were dating until I literally saw them kissing, and Beau and Yasha were barely better.” She jabs a finger towards Essek’s chest, ignoring the way he startles at the movement. “So you have just made it to the top of the Winter’s Crest card list.”

Essek presses his steepled fingers against his mouth, but not before Veth catches the bashful smile spreading there.

“Thank you,” he says. “Truly, I… This means a great deal.”

“Heck yeah, my blessing’s worth a lot,” she replies with a grin. “You know what? Tell Fjord that. He doesn’t have my blessing. I’m gonna make him work for it.”

This time the joke doesn’t pass him by, and she can read in his small smile that he’s grateful for the show of familiarity.

“I should hope he will rise to the occasion,” he says, and Veth gets the feeling he isn’t just talking about Fjord.

[ohheyitsokay]

Home

this all takes place in my poly frontier universe

pairing: triple frontier guys - Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco (Frankie) “Catfish” Morales, and Ben “Benny” Miller x (f) reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: obviously a poly relationship, which includes kissing, domestic intimacy with all of them (not just with the reader, but not in-between Will and Ben because nope), mild sexual themes

summary: scenes at the beginning of making a house with five people feel like home

<<

The manicured grass is soft where it peaked around the edges of your sandals. Hands running over the grooves of they key in your pocket, you gaze around the little front yard, mind conjuring daydreams that fit on the weathered porch of the house.

Two bathrooms will be enough right? Your thoughts are running - creating and erasing images of the future, trying to squish them like magic into the home in front of you. The yard is big enough to extend the garage and for plenty of home projects…

Across the fence and a long stretch of field, a woman is hiking her skirts up, making a beeline for you. The neighbor’s house is a considerable distance away, being out in the countryside, but she must have been watching your tour from her garden with interest.

The others had left moments before, Santi promising to come back whenever you were done. After weeks of looking at houses, it became a little ritual of yours, to spend a few minutes looking around without the clutter of wonderful distractions.

“So which one of those strapping young men is your beau?” She asks conspiringly, eyes gleaming. It catches you off guard – the lack of introduction, but she seems harmless enough.

Your smile is equally mischievous, and your head tilts a hair.

“Well, which one do you think?”

The woman considers, boot tip tapping away at her grass. You replay the moments she could’ve seen, which were few, wondering if you’d leaned in any particular direction, and wait.

“Now that I think about it, I haven’t got a clue,” her smile is wide, softer and more genuine than before - polite. “As long as you’re good neighbors,” she explains, “I guess I wouldn’t care if it was one or all of you next door.”

You smile, thanking her as salutations ring in your ears, watching with grateful eyes as she hikes back towards her home. Then you move, wandering through the empty rooms for long, quite minutes before you peak over the fence again. The woman had gone inside, and if you squint you can see who you think is her husband, sleeping with a dog on the porch.

In the other directions, there isn’t a house within a reasonable distance. A knot loosens in your chest, as an unexpected feeling of freedom from judging eyes blooms in its place.

When Santi comes back to pick you up, you take his hand across the console. His skin is warm, and his thumb automatically begins to gently move across your knuckles.

“I think it’s perfect, Pope.”

He looks at you curiously, minding his thoughts for a moment.

“Yeah, love?”

The sun was beginning to set, and you look at the peaceful little home in the rear view mirror, and smile.

“Yeah.”

-

“What?”

“We need to … break in every room.”

“I’m just saying -"

“Oh he’s talking about – wait are you really horny, right now?”

“There are boxes everywhere, idiot.”

You walk in carrying a single plant and a stack of pizzas and the conversation hushes.

“Ah – payment,” Frankie kisses your cheek, moving the plant by the window as Santi clears the table.

Someone makes a quip about it being Santi’s house and you wince, the utopia popping.

“We don’t get paid to move our own stuff, Catfish.” His dark hair is damp with sweat but he seems otherwise unaffected by the hours spent hauling. It was still surreal – that this is actually happening, that this unanimously became a long term desire.

He has the most money and Will has the best credit score, so they bought the house to save you all from questions. The movement isn’t lost on your Ironhead, and he rubs a soothing circle on your shoulder as he reaches for a plate. Of everyone, he was the one who most understood your anxiety – close proximity always led to arguments at first.

“You got lucky,” Benny takes the first slice, accepting a napkin for an additional piece. “You fell in love with a pretty good moving crew.”

“I think so,” you grin, trying to ignore your anxiety. He inhales the food, pulling you into his lap as he bickers with Will about whether or not more needed to get done today.

Eventually Frankie dictates that at the very least some cleaning should be started and the bedding should be unpacked for the evening. The agree with varying degrees of enthusiasm and after a handful of innuendos your loves begin to disperse, too dutiful to let work go unfinished. The bedframe practically builds itself, and a portable speaker makes Santi’s hips twitch as he floats through the half-barren rooms.

When Will rolls his eyes at Frankie’s choice of screw, you duck away, nerves thrumming.

And you wander around, fake cleaning, until you find your Benny clearing pizza plates. Even amongst boxes and bins and old blankets, he could be at a photo shoot. The evening light make his hair look like silk, and his eyes shine like he’s making you promises this very moment.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” he says, drawing you into his arms as your head tilts. “We spent years in bunks and tents, and we were younger then.”

His chest was warm and you press your cheek to it, nodding. You hadn’t thought he had noticed, how anxious you’d been about the change, but you had been foolish. Even through his shirt, you can feel the thumping of his giant heart, steady as a drumbeat.

Replaying the evening in your mind, you let go of some of your worries, one by one, and he kisses the top of your head. It’s a thoughtful thing, and it never ceases to amaze you how easily he can wrap you around his finger.

“Ben?”

He makes a noise, somewhere between a hum and a grunt.

You pull his face down to yours, kissing him hard. It was a kiss that says you're grateful, and a kiss that says you love him for being… him.

He accepts it eagerly, and tiredness from the day long gone ad he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your lips. The world spins and you feel him shove something heavy off the couch before replacing it with you.

The cushions are dusty from everything but he makes space, and you stop caring as he moves on top of you.

The others would find you soon, their instincts kicking in, but you savor it. Benny, pressing into you, kissing you in the evening light.

The beginning of their conversation from earlier blooms in your mind and you grin as his lips trailed down your neck. It suddenly didn’t seem implausible that he planned this.

“Breaking in” aside, this was the first room you where you truly felt like this could be home.

-

You feel his hands gently replace yours on the zipper and you jump a little - he stands just outside the mirror reflection as you watch the skirts around your ankles. Behind you the big bed is made neatly, there’s a ridiculously large closet, and a tangle of phone chargers.

The bedroom: the place that set apart your home from others. The room that housed five individuals, a web of relationships, a miracle of mixed bodies and minds and hearts.

It looks big, behind you.

Warm, daft fingers tie the extra strings, a neat little bow hanging just between your shoulder blades. The silence is thick, weighted with adoration, but when he breaks it, it’s as if he can’t resist.

“You’re beautiful,” he moves closer, kissing your temple and drinking you in. Turning, your heart aches.

Will is in his dress uniform, crisscrossed with crisp lines and newly shined awards. His hair is lighter after the summer, and he tried to comb it neatly to one side. Compliments catch in your throat as you stare and he smiles, turning you gently so he can kiss you properly. His mouth tastes like mint and you can smell hints of his cologne lingering on his skin.

“Look at you,” you murmur, lips still brushing over his. Letting your hands wander over his face, smoothing his eyebrows, you feel almost in awe of him. Still, he flushes, pleased at your reaction.

“Thank you.”

His chuckle is warm, almost raspy as he tries to enjoy the quietness of your conversation, and he shakes his head. Really, you were sure he was thankful that he was been the only one free for your special evening.

“Thank you,” you correct him. “You didn’t have to do any of this.” The dinner, for your job.

In the mirror, he looked like diamonds and sapphires and gold. Will was like an action figure sometimes, solid and sculpted and stoic, but… he was looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

It made you blink, his eyes sliding over you, pupils just a little more blown than the lighting required - a gentle reset demanding your attention.

Looking back in the mirror for a moment, the room didn’t seem quite as big, or quite as revealing. It was comforting, how out of place the two of you looked, dressed to the nines because… this was your place. The softness surrounded by details perfectly woven into your life.

Turning, you slip your arms around his neck, gently musing his hair, and his eyebrows draw together, accepting, but confused.

And as you tuck your hand into his elbow and step into your heels, you resist the urge to thank him again.

“I like it better like this,” you admit, and he flushes again, beaming. Looking around, you realize you’re actually looking forward to coming home more than you’re excited to leave. It’s a new feeling, in this space with the four of them and it hits you, hard in your chest. Still, the man beside you is unwavering and you let the feeling consume you, knowing that you’re safe.

-

“Frankie, what is that?”

He flinches, nervousness cutting the excitement on his face.

“Rhetorical question,” Santi says, grinning at you. “He got it from a friend who was going to toss it out.”

It’s a hot tub, taking up a decent chunk of your back porch.

“If anyone can make it work like a dream, it’s Catfish.” Will’s tone is matter-of-fact, all honesty and pride.

Your sweet Francisco drops his tool and grabs your hand, his dark eyes big. “¿Cariño, por favor? From me, to you?” You can see his laptop up, replacement parts on saved tabs, and you tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He likes to have projects, needs to have somewhere to do things, fix things, create things. Maybe at one point it was because he liked the distraction, it was a … replacement coping mechanism, if you will, but it became his pride, to use his hands to improve your lives.

It doesn’t take long, two weeks at most, between his job and his loves, and his long list of honey-dos, but he does it.

“Please and thank you,” you say, and when he kisses you, slow and deep and happy, you hear cheers and high-five and you almost can’t kiss him because he’s smiling.

And it takes awhile to fill, (Will thanking the stars that the water bill is reasonable,) and even longer to heat, and then it’s ready. The boys yank on swim trunks, thanking Frankie with enthusiasm, and you watch them sink into the steaming tub with as they sigh.

You have a bathing suit, of course you do, but you pull on one of his work shirts, knowing he won’t mind the chemicals from the water making the stains blur. And you pair of shorts you caught him watching your butt in, thinking of acknowledging his hard work in your own way.

The volume of your bodies makes it overflow, hot water sloshing onto the ground, but it’s bliss. It’s big, and they shout over the bubbles, talking excitedly about the future, and your heart feels warm in your favorite way.

The others leave early, taking loud laughter with them, and it leaves you and your Catfish. You let yourself float, moving right on top of him, and his hands grab at your hips, slipping and sliding over your skin as he kisses you once, twice. Slow.

It’s late – the stars stretch, there’s a bit of a breeze, and there’s not a light on for miles.

“You like it?” his voice is raspy, quiet, intense, but almost shy. Like if you said no it would break him in two.

“Of course I do, Frankie.” He looks pleased, hand absentmindedly running under his shirt and over your side. Even with the heat of the water, his hand feels like socks warmed in the dryer some cold winter morning. Comforting, maybe a little electric.

You let out a long, happy sigh, and settle against him, content to stay with him until you’re pruny.

“I think…. This is exactly what this house needed.” He starts a little, surprised, but it’s not an exaggeration.

There was always work to do and things to change, but it was the first time you looked out, and didn’t feel a twinge of fear, that anyone was looking in. It would’ve felt vulnerable, intimate to be so exposed, but… it was perfect, because he created it for you. Confidence and pride bubble around you, and Frankie’s eyebrows dip as he smiles – understanding.

-

“Yeah.” Its simple, not too hot, not too cold. Just… right.

It feels like… tar and lava, hot and dark and thick, bubbling and sticky and you want to punch something. Or scream, or cry.

Your Pope finds you standing rigid, smudges of flour on your skin and clothes, pans and spatulas strewn.

“Are we out of sugar?” To your credit, you try to keep your voice even, but he knows you better than that.

Santi shakes his head, plucking it from the pantry and looking guilty. Your mind pauses it’s rampage, and you wince, because you should be the one making that apologetic face, not him. Hot tears bubble in your eyes and you hate it, hate that they’re coming for what feels like no reason.

“Baby,” he says, tone pleading, setting the sugar down and reaching for you. The afternoon sun makes his eyes like rich, deep pots of gold, his hair somehow both soft and statuesque.

When he pauses, the tears fall against your will, just two thick drops down your cheeks. His hand encompasses your whole jaw, thumb gentle as it rubs away the saltwater, and he looks a tad helpless.

And there’s understanding in his eyes and through the blur you think maybe it’s pity. He stands, and your heart clenches, knowing he’ll go get Will, or someone because you’re being ridiculous but… he doesn’t.

You’re saying something about how the kitchen is wrong, how it’s been building for days, you’ve been here almost a week and you can’t fucking find anything. Panic and frustration locked horns in your chest and you couldn’t breathe and all you wanted to do was make something nice –

Instead, he’s pulling out things and piling them onto the floor in categories around you. It’s almost comical the stacks he makes but he seems determined and in your confusion the tears slow to a stop.

“Santi –” he hushes you. The cupboard doors hang open, and he guides you, lifting you up and up and into his arms. It’s solid and grounding, and he’s not as tall as the others and you needed him desperately.

And slowly, you begin to put things away where it makes sense, to you, and he helps. Not once does he argue with you, not even a moment when his dark eyebrows knit together in judgement. Dutifully he cleans and places everything just where you tell him, and you can almost feel the steam rising off of you as you begin to cool.

The final pile is a mountain of cloth, aprons and oven mitts and… something you’ve never seen before. Or actually, something you had, just not in your house. A set of hand towels you’d wistfully looked at awhile ago, before talking yourself out of the purchase. You had dozens at this point and didn’t need more but…

The man seating on the floor, folding them into perfect squares, is the answer to the question your mind produces.

You feel like you’ve been hosed down from head to toe, almost cold from the absence of frustration in your blood.

Pushing the pile to the side you climb into his lap, as determined as he was, and he looks surprised. It’s silly: sitting in your lover’s lap on the kitchen floor, but it feels more real than a movie. It’s your kitchen, yours and his, in this moment.

You kiss him, slow and purposeful and –

He knows you like the back of his hand.

-

You’re sitting on the bathroom counter distracting Santi as he shaves when Benny bursts in to tell you a story.

Will trails behind him, patiently waiting for his brother to take a breathe so he can set the record straight. Absentmindedly he weaves between them to pick up a fallen hand towel, passing it to Pope to wipe the shaving cream from his jaw. They share a moment and Benny’s story stutters out. Looking up from your nails you see Frankie leaning against the doorframe, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

There’s hardly room to move – and you couldn’t have it any other way.

His eyebrows are bent as he takes in the four of you, crammed into the spare bathroom, and Ben laughs.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk

for the poly frontier:

@grogusmum

[zepskies]

Yesss we're at the "almost" end. 😉 Diving into the rest of your lovely review below!

I love a good "morning after" scene lol. Beau is quite snuggly, isn't he?

But when I read that two weeks went by, I just knew that something was off. And I was right. 🙈 However, I loooooved it! 🤭 Thank you for this last spark of drama and tension there. It was just right!

One more bit of conflict before we cross the finish line! 😅

I also loved the little sneak peak into the podcast session. It was funny and flirty. You could feel that they just care so much about eachother. Even Emily did. But still that tension was there.

Hahaa I'm glad you liked that! They really have come to care about each other very much. 💕

And yeah I thought the tete-a-tete between the reader and Carla was needed -- not just for the drama, but for these two to find some mutual ground despite their differences.

Yeah... we all felt that. 😕 And I didn't like the attitude at all. Felt like she was trying to show off that she had more power. And she definitly did, but still... no need to show it here. 😒

In a way, Carla kind of was. None of these characters are perfect, and there was a hint of pettiness Carla had there. She's gone through a lot, but she was also being kind of a bitch there lol. Also, a part of her is also a little bit threatened that the reader, the new woman in her ex-husband's life, is "trying to tell her how to raise her daughter" kind of thing. It's not the reader's intention, but it's hard to not make it come off that way.

Again, how high do you wanna set the bar? 😍🤭 I could imagine this absolutly in my head. It's so Beau. Like he's setting a statement to everyone who see's the couple. 🥰

Ahaha I was very much influenced by the scene in Friends season 2 where Ross carries Rachel out of the coffee shop. 😂

There's just one thing... 🙈 A teeny tiny piece of my heart would've wished he had said that he would stay for Y/N. We all know that Emily is the most important thing for him and Y/N knows that too. She would never expect him to leave Emily behind, but... idk. It feels a little as if she's not so important to him.

So I can see where you're coming from here. If I had drawn this out a bit more, the reader would have had to draw up the courage and ask him again on what he planned to do. Since he'd just heard the news a day or so before, Beau was still just in that zone of not wanting to make a decision yet, or even facing the possibility of leaving her.

He absolutely cares about the reader and wants to be with her. He's just torn between being a good father, doing whatever he can to stay with his daughter, and being, at least in his mind, more selfish by fighting for what he wants, which is to stay in Montana with his new girlfriend.

Idk if you have kids (I don't), but the one thing I've learned from the people in my life who are parents is that your kids come first -- except for that 1% that you get to have what you want lol. (I just watched Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore in Blended recently. That's where that line comes from.)

The reader also knows that he cares about her and is conflicted. Though now that I look back on the chapter, maybe I could've highlighted Beau's internal feelings on the matter more. Thanks for that feedback!

I'm so glad you love this story though. In writing this series I rewatched S3 twice! It made me so wish we had a season 4 to look forward to one day. Sad times. 😭 But we can keep Big Sky alive through fanfic at least! loll 💕

Take Me Home - Part 9

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: We’ve made it, friends. 🥹 But stay tuned, I have a special announcement after the end of this chapter.~

Word Count: 4.1K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 9: A Choice to Make

There was a man in your bed.

You were pleased to discover that, although your kidnapping of two days ago hadn’t been a dream, being held warm and secure in someone’s arms this morning wasn’t either.

After slowly blinking awake, you looked up from a familiar freckled shoulder to find Beau’s peaceful face. His hair was a floppy mess, his mouth parted in sleep. It made you smile.

His arm was heavy around your waist. It was nice, but you contemplated how you were going to get over to the bathroom and freshen up; maybe fix your hair, brush your teeth, put a little makeup on…

You were careful in how you grasped his hand. You were about to try and peel his arm off without waking him.

“If my alarm hasn’t gone off, means it ain’t morning yet,” Beau rumbled with his eyes still closed.

You stifled a laugh, but you tried again to pull his arm away. He held you to him tighter.

“Where you think you’re goin’?” he asked. His southern drawl was thicker when he was sleepy.

You giggled lightly and rested back against his bare chest in defeat.

“Was gonna try and fix myself up a little, before you saw me in the raw light of day,” you confessed.

You’d caught a glimpse of the yellowing bruise on your cheek last night in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. You weren’t really sure how Beau could see past it.

But at your words, Beau finally cracked his eyes open. He made a show of glancing up and down your body, clad in just your black silk camisole. He couldn’t see the rest of you under the blankets, but what he did see, he liked quite a lot—aside from the parts of you that were still healing.  

“You look just right to me,” he remarked, tugging at a strand of your wild, likely knotted hair. “Damn beautiful too.”

Your smile of amusement grew, along with your blush. 

“Flatterer,” you accused. Though you rolled off his arm, fearing you were cutting off his circulation. You moved onto his chest instead, where he held you by your waist and you rested your head over his steady-beating heart.

“Nope. That’s the truth, darlin’,” he said, with a deep sigh. You didn’t see the way his eyes closed in contentment. He knew he’d have to get back into work today, not to mention check on Emily and Carla. For now though, he could focus on this. On you.

“Where do we go from here?” you asked. It was a mere whisper against his skin, but he heard you just fine. It was a good question.

“Eggs or pancakes?” he posed.

You smiled, but you shoved at his shoulder.

“You know what I mean,” you said wryly.

Beau’s resulting deep breath raised you as well. He nodded, brushing your hair back away from your face. You pushed up enough to look up at him.

He gave you a quirking smile.

“I want this to stick,” he admitted. “I wanna take you on a proper date and make it official.”

You smiled back at him. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’re in agreement.”

But you didn’t realize that anything official would take more time than either of you thought. 

Two weeks later, you returned to the precinct with another basket, this one full of snickerdoodle cookies for the whole squad. Poppernak was especially excited when you handed them over to him.

Beau must’ve heard your voice, because he came out of his office to greet you with a broad smile.

“Well, hey there,” he said. You went to him with a smile of your own, but you waited until he’d led you into his office by the small of your back.

Once he shut the door behind him, he pulled you close by the waist and greeted you with a proper kiss. You didn’t even mind the scratch of his beard against your chin. You just caressed his cheek and met him with as much as he gave.

But all too soon, the kiss dimmed to embers, your lips parting softly from his. He thumbed at your cheek.

“To what do I owe this little visit?” he asked.

“Nothing really,” you said. He sat on the edge of his desk, and you followed him, standing between his legs. His hand stayed comfortable on your hip. You toyed with the top button near his collar.

“Fall semester is starting up in a couple of weeks. I don’t have too much of the summer left,” you said. “I’m trying to be ready but…I don’t know.”

You were a bit nervous about it. After the ordeal of this past month, you’d started seeing a therapist to work through some of that trauma. Sometimes you had nightmares, found it hard to focus on things during the day. You worried that it would affect your work once your classes started up.

Beau knew what that thinly veiled worry in your eyes meant; you’d confided in him after your first therapy session a few days ago. He had been supportive, and even somewhat open to your suggestion that he see a professional himself, for the things he still held deep inside.

“The rocky summer’s almost over,” he encouraged, squeezing your hip. “You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”

You thanked him with a smile, though your fingers became more gripping on his shirt.

“There is something else that’s kinda bothering me,” you said.

Beau grabbed your hand and held it. “What’s that?”

You leveled him with a knowing look.

“I’m just curious on what we’re doing exactly,” you said. “Considering you still haven’t asked me out ‘officially official.’”

Beau’s lips pressed together with a guilty sort of smile.

“Okay, yes, I’ve been working on that,” he said. 

You laughed incredulously. “What’s to work on? It’s a simple question. I promise you, I have a simple answer.”

“But it’s not quite that simple,” he said. That made you pause, along with the sobered look on his face. You slipped your hand out of his and crossed your arms.

“What do you mean, Beau?” you asked.

He grasped your arms gently and let out a deep breath.

“Okay. I just talked with Carla last night,” he said.

It wasn’t a great way to kick things off if he wanted to reassure you. He seemed to know that, and so he spoke quickly.

“After everything that’s happened, she’s thinking of selling the house and taking Emily back to Houston,” he said.

Your face fell with shock. You laid a hand on his chest; to steady him or yourself, you didn’t know which.

“Oh wow,” you uttered.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He dragged a hand over his mouth. You had a feeling this news had been keeping him up at night.

But, you had to voice a thought that began to make your stomach churn with unease.

“Are you…would you move back too?” you asked.

Beau met your gaze with a conflicted one of his own.

“Besides the fact that I got a lot of ghosts in Houston, there are important reasons why I should stay. Why I want to stay,” he said. He picked up your hand again and held it with both of his. “But I also want and need to be there for my daughter.”

You nodded, even as tears burned in your eyes. You knew how hard this time was for Emily right now. What she needed was stability. She needed her father.

“I don’t know what to do here,” Beau admitted.

It was hard, but you breathed through your upset and tried to reign in your tears. You met his gaze and squeezed his hand back.

“You know what I want,” you said, “but you need to do what you think is best. Both for Emily, and for yourself.”

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” he said.

You shook your head. “It might not be, but that’s where we are.”

Your eyes fell to your joined hands, until Beau propped a finger under your chin, guiding your face back up to his. He gave you a kiss that was supposed to be sweet, and comforting.

He only succeeded for the moment.

“Oh God, it’s like I don’t even know you!” you exclaimed. Though you were still laughing.

Beau raised a finger in protest. “Hey, I stand by pineapple on pizza—”

“Alone, Dad. You stand alone,” Emily said. She had a recorder app going on her phone, placed between the three of you in your living room. This marked Episode 1 of her podcast, and already it was going off the rails.

“It ain’t that bad. That’s all I’m saying,” he laughed, holding up placating hands. “Pizza is pizza.”

“Said the human garbage disposal,” you smirked. “Where do you put that one, in your second or third stomach?”

“Nah, the fourth one,” he said, patting said stomach. “It’s got the most room. Very handy at a buffet. Or at Donno’s diner when he puts out the weekly specials.”

You laughed. Beau grinned. Emily made a face of disgust.

“Okay, gross,” she said. “Moving on to the next question.”

“How many you got there anyway?” Beau asked, reaching for the piece of paper she’d printed off with all of these “Questions for Couples.” He’d caught sight of a few spicy ones on there that he’d rather not be asked by his daughter, let alone put on record.

Emily snatched the paper away before he could take it from her.

“Okay, next. What’s the first thing you noticed about each other when you met?” she read off.

You and Beau glanced at each other with curious smiles. That was something neither of you had talked about just yet.

“How about for you?” Emily directed her question at you first. You blinked wider eyes.

“Oh! Um…” you trailed. Beau crossed his arms, adopting a sly, expectant smile. You bit your lip to avoid laughing in embarrassment.

“Okay, well, as you know, we met on that camping trip. If I remember right, I saw him from behind first,” you recalled.

“Liked what you saw, huh?” he teased. You laughed and tried not to blush in embarrassment.

“I noticed how tall he was. I wondered if a mountain man was coming to join us,” you quipped. Beau’s smile kicked up a notch. “But it wasn’t until he turned around, and I saw his handsome face…for me, it was his eyes.”

You were a bit bashful to admit that, but when you looked over at Beau, said handsome face had softened a touch. His hand snuck behind you to settle at the curve of your waist, stroking a thumb along your back.

“And for you, Dad?” Emily asked.

You shot him an expectant look. Beau cleared his throat, looking between his daughter and back to you. Then his smile returned.

“Well, I noticed right off the bat that she was beautiful, of course.”

“Good answer,” Emily nodded, laughing a little. You couldn’t help blushing.

Beau slipped his hand off your waist to come up and brush your cheek instead.

“For me though, it was her smile that did me in,” he said. “She looked up at me, and I uh…yeah. That got me. Was thinking about her for a while after Cassie and I left the camp.”

With that admission, you found yourself melting further. You looked down at your folded hands in your lap, trying to save face, but Beau wouldn’t have it. He took one of your hands in his, brought it up to his lips, and pressed a kiss over your knuckles, making your face warm up further.

Emily watched you both in amusement. She smirked at the next question listed on the page.

“Okay, who pays on dates? Is it Dad every time?” she asked.

Your expression turned dry as you glanced at Beau.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, considering we haven’t been on a real date yet,” you remarked. 

Beau gave a tight smile.

“All right,” he said. “Next question, please.”

A couple of days later, you crossed paths with Carla by chance while you were getting office supplies. She was getting moving boxes. There was a stack of them in her cart.

After exchanging some painful small talk, you heeded a gut instinct that had you offering to buy her lunch. So the two of you went to a café in the same plaza, where you each had a sandwich and fries.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Carla smiled, taking another fry. “You mean can you ask me something uncomfortable?”

You stifled an awkward laugh. She really was a good lawyer.

“Yeah, that,” you said.

“Sure,” she replied.

You stared back at her for a moment, steeling yourself. You both knew what this was about to be. It was a conversation weeks in the making, but it didn’t make it any easier to begin.

You decided to peel off the Band-Aid.

“Do you still love him?” you asked. You knew you didn’t have to specify whom. Carla sighed and set down her iced tea.

“In a way,” she replied. “I’ll always care about Beau, and I want him to be happy, I do. This has all just been…too much.”

“I understand that,” you said.  

Carla hid it well, but there was pain behind her eyes as she looked away. Your heart broke for her a bit. She’d barely been remarried a year before this hellish summer uprooted her entire life.

Now she and her daughter were living in a big empty house that was meant to be for three. Carla had just finished telling you about her plans to sell it, but that also implied that she and Emily were moving.

“Part of this is my fault, I know,” said Carla. “I’m the one who married a man like Avery—”

You gently stopped her with a hand on her wrist. You met her gaze with empathy.

“What he did, and what happened after, that wasn’t your fault,” you said. “I know what it’s like to be with a man who lies.”

It took her a moment, but Carla accepted that with a slow nod. You took your hand back, and once again, you tried to gain your courage to dive into deeper waters.

“I also understand that you have to do what you feel is right for Emily, but…”

Carla met you with a more wry tilt of her head. “Let me guess. You don’t think we should leave Montana?”

Your gaze fell. “I know it’s not really my place to say—”

“And if it was?” she countered.

Your lips pressed together. Well, if she wanted to hear your opinion, then she would have it.

“Look, Carla, I was with Emily through the worst of it,” you said. “I know very well what she’s been through. But another out-of-state move when she’d just started getting acclimated, possibly separating her from her father, is that the right call?”

“You’re assuming Beau would stay. For you?” Carla asked. Her words were pointed. Sharp enough to cut you.

“I won’t lie. I don’t want to lose him…but despite his responsibilities here as Sheriff, I suspect he might leave if you asked him to. If it was for his daughter,” you said. Letting out a breath, you looked down at your folded hands on the table. “I love Emily. I want him to do what’s right for her. But selfishly, I want him to take care of himself too.”

Carla considered that, and you, with a nod.

The two of you continued sipping your iced teas for a while in silence.

When you asked for the check, the server informed you that Carla had already paid for it.

The woman gave you a parting smile before she left. You weren’t sure if she’d done it to treat you, or just to win.

That same night, Carla invited Beau over for dinner with her and Emily. It was pizza Friday, like they used to do as a family.

It was familiar, but different now.

They all were different.

Carla asked them to join her in the living room afterwards, with Emily sitting in a lounge chair while her parents sat on the couch. Beau wasn’t sure what Carla was up to, but he was going along with it.

She took in a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap, and focused on her daughter.

“Em, I need to ask you something.”

The girl looked confused, and a little apprehensive at this point.

“O-kay…”

“I know this past month has been…hard for all of us,” said Carla. “Especially for you, sweetheart.”

She took Emily’s hand.

“You know I think it’s best that we go back to Houston,” said Carla. Emily dimmed at that, and her mother could see it. It pained Carla inside to come to a realization…

“But, I think maybe I made that decision for me, not for you,” she said. She had to blink back the sting of tears. “So, what I’m asking is, do you want to go…or do you want to stay here in Montana?”

Beau glanced over at his ex-wife in surprise. He’d never known Carla to change her mind on anything. But now, now he had hope.

He tried not to show any of that to his daughter though. This was up to her now, and he would support whatever she said next.

“R-Really? I get to choose?” Emily asked. She had the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she looked between her parents. 

Carla nodded, attempting a smile through her own tears. “Yes. I, and I’m sure your father, want to do what’s best for you here. What do you want to do?”

Emily considered the question. Yeah, she missed her friends back at school in Houston. They still texted and kept in touch through social media all the time, but she knew it wasn’t the same.

She hadn’t been happy about moving to Montana at first…but after meeting Cassie and Denise, helping them with their cases—it made Emily feel like she was doing work that mattered. That something she did really, truly mattered, and would help people. That was a cool feeling.

Also, she’d met you. She’d begun to find a kind of older sister in you. Someone who encouraged her projects and her creative side without thinking it was too weird, or too annoying. And of course, she could see what you meant to her dad now.

Besides all that though, she just had this gut feeling. Like going back to Houston would be like going backwards.

Emily’s lower lip wobbled. She tried to stop it, but her emotions bubbled over.

“I like it here,” she admitted. “I…I want to stay.”

Beau welcomed his daughter over into a warm hug between them on the couch. Carla rubbed her back and nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll do that.”

They stayed like that for a while. Until eventually, the teen wanted to go back to editing her podcast. She was getting a hang of the editing software, and she wanted to post it online by the end of the week.

“Okay, but I want to hear the final cut before that gets released into cyberspace,” Beau called after her when she ran off into her room.

Carla shook her head and wiped her face dry.

“I still can’t believe you let her record you,” she said with a laugh.

“You and me both,” Beau admitted. If you hadn’t cajoled him into it, he probably wouldn’t have.

And the thought of you had him smiling to himself, more warmly. He’d couldn’t wait to call you…but no, this was something he should tell you in person. He turned to Carla.

“You’re sure about this? About staying?” he asked.

She nodded with a sigh. “We’ll just downsize to a smaller house. Though I will need you to keep sharing more of the custody responsibilities with Emily, presuming you’re able to get out of that trailer of yours.”

Beau wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with his trailer (sure, it was a bit small. They’d been managing just fine). But as to not look a gift horse-in-the-mouth, all he did was nod in agreement.

“I’ll work on that,” he said.

“Thank you. Beau, I’m grateful for you,” Carla said. Her eyes were honest. “You gave me our daughter. And I’m glad you’ve gotten better, that you’ve been able to work through some of your issues. I think your girlfriend has had something to do with that.”

A smile quirked at Beau’s lips, and he nodded.

“That she has,” he said.

After his shift the following day, Beau met you at the end of your painting lesson at the local art studio. Everyone was starting to pack up their painting supplies. He managed to come up from behind and surprise you.

He tapped you on one shoulder, but appeared on your other side, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He laughed in light of your gasp.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted.

You narrowed your eyes at him in amusement.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied. “Good timing! I just finished.”

While you gathered up your supplies, Beau admired your latest painting that was still drying on the canvas. He whistled lowly.

It was a landscape of Mount Helena. There was mist near its mountain peaks, and dense trees at its base, and wide plains of green, dotted by a couple of horses ranging free.

You swiveled toward him in your chair and looked up at him with a smile. The same one that caught his eye when he met you.

“After everything, everything, I don’t regret coming here,” you said. Your voice shook a little, and your eyes shone with emotion. You stood from your seat and slipped your hand into his. “This is still the place where I got the courage to start over. And it’s where I met you.”

Beau’s face softened.

“So no matter what you decide to do,” you said, “I won’t ever regret knowing you, Beau Arlen.”

His own smile crinkled the corners of his eyes then. He swept a gentle thumb across your cheek.

“I came to tell you that Carla and Emily are staying in Montana,” he said. “So am I.”

You sucked in a trembling breath. Your tears bubbled over and fell, but his hands were there to catch them, framing your face.

“But aside from all that,” he said, with a note of humor gleaming in his eyes. “I’d really, really, like to ask you out to dinner tonight. Call it ‘officially official.’”

You laughed and smiled so bright. You nodded and let him pull you into a warm embrace. He just surprised you by hefting you into his arms next. You yelped and clung to his shoulders.

Your art instructor, as well as a couple of lesson goers remaining in the studio, clapped and whooped and laughed at the way he started carrying you towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, go back! My stuff!” you said, gesturing at your workstation.

Beau graciously backed up so you could grab your bag of paint supplies and your canvas from the easel. It was a little awkward, but you both laughed as he tried to angle you out the door of the studio. He started walking you down the sidewalk.

“Where’re you taking me? My car’s that way,” you pointed in the opposite direction.

“I believe I asked you to dinner,” said Beau, with a teasing grin. “I don’t wanna waste no time.”

You wanted to point out that your hands were stained with paint, and you weren’t dressed for a date in your jeans and plain sweater, and this wasn’t exactly what you meant by asking you out…but maybe you didn’t need a “color-coded list” for everything.

Maybe you could let yourself be a little spontaneous for once.

“Okay, Beau,” you breathed a laugh, and rested your head on his shoulder. “Take me wherever you want.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he said slyly. He kissed your forehead. “I’ve got plans for you.”

When he reached the passenger side of his truck, he set you down on your feet. He unlocked it and held the door open while you set down your things. You pivoted on your heel and grabbed the front of his shirt, so you could pull him down to you for a kiss.

He tasted like the promise of good days to come.

AN: And there we have it, friends. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed the ride on this series. I've had so much fun exploring Beau and this version of him and the reader. I hope you'll let me know what you think of the finale here. 💓

But, their story's not quite over yet.

Stay tuned this coming week for:

A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

Sneak preview coming soon...

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E136 & 137 (May 11, 2021)

Good evening and good night, everyone! Tonight on Talks are Laura Bailey & Sam Riegel. I was seriously hoping for Travis after the oh-so-spooky ending to last week's episode, but we'll make do! Tonight, Sam joins us while exercising on his Peloton (apparently in a full workout program led by Peloton teacher Tunde(?)) in front of a green screen. Boy, this is gonna be a thing, huh?

We're not even to the first question and Sam has already been photoshopped into a carwash. Oh, brother.

How is everyone feeling diving into the Cognouza ward? Laura doesn't want to be there at all. She knew Liam desperately wanted to see it, but she didn't. Neither did Sam: it's like being in someone else's gross bathroom where you really don't want to touch anything. Isn't the whole city a body? Is there an earwax room, Sam wonders?

Dani called that Sprinkle was Artagan waaaay back when. She thought it was either a Hollowed One or the Traveler. Travis and Laura were joking about it at home a while back as well, but she didn't think it was real. Sam assumed Matt just didn't want to retcon Sprinkle dying after various adventures & never expected him to tie a plot point to it.

Sam thinks the campaign is winding down & he's trying to get Veth one-on-one time for everyone. Laura is his favorite due to Jester's & Nott's relationship. Laura very much wants to open a real detective agency in game if they both survive this fight.

Laura can't believe Sam is committing to the Peloton bit. "I just had no idea that you were going to do this the whole time. I genuinely thought you were choosing to wear a sleeveless shirt." Sam: "I like that we're at that part in our relationship where you're like, 'well, this is a mistake for him but I'm not even gonna bring it up.'"

If Jester wasn't in a relationship with Fjord, she'd have wink-wink'd at Charlie.

Veth on Devexian: she's very drawn to confidence and sexy voices. There are no men in the M9 who check those boxes. Jester: "Fjord is very tall, dark, and handsome!" Sam: "Yeah, but he's got those little stick arms!" Brian points out that Yasha is the most tall, dark, and handsome of the group, and Sam laments that he already tried that too. She's not going to sleep with the robot, but she can appreciate beauty.

Laura starts to tell us about the Shape of Water while talking about Devexian's functionality and makes THAT GESTURE, YOU KNOW. She then collapses with laughter at being shy about it. She tells Sam Jester isn't shy at all and draws all sorts of humanoid species dicks.

They both agree the powers Caleb & Beau have right now are awesome but will 100% come back to bite them. Sam thinks the 3/9 eyes means there's a 1/3 chance Molly can control them.

Once Molly takes them over, they both agree Beau must be killed first. "She could kill all of us in a heartbeat."

Cosplay of the Week: kairiceleste on Instagram with an amazing Caleb. Great fire photoshop as well! Brian pulls the digital CR gift card off a genuine Bafta. These kids, I tell you what.

Jester still wishes they had access to the Wild Magic chaos since it seemed perfectly harmless and only funny. Laura, on the other hand, knows it's a good thing they've left it behind since not all of them are so benign.

Both Sam & Laura are delightedly astonished to remember Veth is still like a foot tall. Sam says he would have been doing an even higher-pitched voice had he known.

Laura feels great about her Parent Trap success. She likes that it was grounded and not fanciful. It was very bittersweet to leave them behind, choosing not to say goodbye. It almost felt like Jester has accepted whatever fate has in store and if something happens to her, she knows that at least someone will take care of Marion.

Right now, Jester feels a stronger purpose than anything to stop the city. It's so hard to marry that serious & driven purpose to Caleb's desire, for example, to explore a room and pick up a piece of paper. She really thinks she did see that vision of the eye that Matt mentioned last episode, contrary to what Matt thinks.

It wasn't as satisfying as Sam had hoped to kill Otis. He wanted to face off in a fair duel and win via superior cunning & scrappiness. "Who knows, maybe Otis will come back to life!" Maybe they can Speak with Dead and Veth can rub it in.

Laura desperately wants to go back and explore the city. It felt like a video game level with a time limit; it killed her that she couldn't take as much time as she wanted to explore. "There was so much loot!"

Sam wasn't expecting the Somnovem to have distinct personalities. Dani has a theory about them being heightened emotions. Sam: "Like Inside Out??" Laura: "Inside Out in the flesh city." There has to be a way to sweet-talk them into helping. Laura never expected that they'd actually land in the city at all.

The only thing that is stopping them now is that Lucien hasn't placed his threshold crest yet. Laura thinks that if he does, the city will go back immediately and--she suspects--the nine Somnovem will rise again in power like gods, and drive the city to destroy Exandria.

Fanart of the Week: gazedraws with a lovely Devexian. Great gold work on the neck and face! Sam: "It would take a while to put a hickey on that, but I could do it."

Brian's entirely imagined neon sign dropping from the ceiling with the gift card is powered (apparently) by Sam's Peloton. Laura complains that the light isn't bright enough because he isn't pedaling fast enough. I can't believe how intricate this has become.

It makes perfect sense for Jester that there is power that comes from belief. She's coming to terms with the idea that the Traveler isn't a god.

All three of them forward-nostalgize about sitting on a couch together. Soon, friends!

They're dying to know about the weapon Veth found. They need time for Caleb to identify it.

Lucien's visible reaction to being called Circus Man has to be a clue from Matt that Molly's still in there. Both Sam & Laura are convinced that they can reach Molly somehow if they can just say the right thing. They are determined to try to get Molly back before Travis just kills Lucien. Laura wonders if they're going to encounter the consciousnesses of Yussa and Molly somewhere in the city.

Sam and Laura think they have good odds against Cree, even with legendary actions. Sam's sure there will be some wrinkle to either make the fight harder or delay them in the fight against Lucien. Laura suggests splitting the party. Brian: "You should be careful splitting the party; without Caduceus, there's no healing!" Laura: "...that's true." Sam thinks that Cree will be able to control Beau or Caleb (or other party members) with the blood vials she took so long ago.

Sam has gone 14.1 miles on the Peloton. What a nice workout!

And that is that is that! Is it Thursday yet?

[nightowlwriting]

summary: caleb is not so sure that he deserves the kindness you've done for him. you're sure that he deserves so much more, and you plan to show him in small increments so that you don't scare him away. the shopping trip is only the beginning. (part 3/13 of the kindness series, a thematically connected series of c2/exu imagines)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: caleb's low self-esteem, mentions of political corruption, set early in c2

note: i am only on ep16 of c2 so that's where we're at folks, also my german is so so so rusty so uhhh hope it's right but any germans want to correct me feel free lmfao

masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Caleb Widogast is a jumpy, jumpy man. You assume it’s for good reason - he’d confided in the group that he met Nott in jail and, well, typically people don’t go to jail unless they’ve done something.

(Although, the more that you adventure with the Mighty Nein you’re not so sure that’s true. It seems like corruption runs deep in the Empire, and you’ve only scratched the surface.)

Still, he is far jumpier than even Nott, and she’s a goblin in the Empire. You watch him, sometimes, and cringe when he flinches. It’s not pity that makes you start being nice to Caleb, but that does color your actions in the beginning. You are of the firm belief that he is a good person, that all of the Nein are, and that they deserve kindness. Caleb most of all. He is so hard on himself and no amount of coaxing from the rest of the group can get him to ease up. Not even Nott, and she functions as his pseudo-mother. But you want him to loosen up, want more of those moments where he makes a joke with a straight face, only to crack a small smile when the group looks away from him. (You try not to look away, craving those moments where you can see the smile light up his face.) When your group arrives in Zadash, you make it your mission to get Caleb to feel some sort of positive emotions about himself.

Or some sort of positive emotion that’s not scarred by whatever happened in his past. You want him to be happy, to heal from whatever keeps him held back from joking with the rest of you. It doesn’t even matter if he reciprocates how you feel about him - you don’t really care. You can love him from afar, be kind to him, and that will be enough for you. He doesn’t have to fall in love with you like you’ve fallen in love with him, really, that’s not why you’re doing this. This being stopping by Pumat’s shop to pick up some more spell scrolls for him with your gold. He had been muttering to himself the last time you were all in about not having enough money, but you hadn't wanted to embarrass him by purchasing them on his behalf, so a separate trip it is. Pumats, all of them, seem to know what you’re doing because they smile when you tuck the scrolls under your cloak and sweep out of the shop.

Your next stop is an ink shop, where you pick up some more ink and incense for Caleb. You’re not really sure how his magic works because it’s not something he was born with or given by a God, but you know that he’s always looking for good ink, parchment, and incense. Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean that you can’t be supportive. You hope that’s what Caleb will get out of your gift, and not anything else. After you gather the magic supplies - you’d asked specifically for the things that wizards use just to make sure - you make your way to the Chastity’s Nook. Maybe Caleb was joking about wanting to be titillated while he learns, but you feel better safe than sorry.

The worker there is incredibly nice, if not shy, and helps you pick out something educational, historical, and terribly smutty. It makes you blush when you glance through it, but it seems to be the right balance of the things that Caleb has expressed interest in before. (Even if that might be fake - you’re not totally sure. Still, it can not hurt to try.) She even wraps it up nicely for you, offering to wrap your other gifts too. That might be too much, so you decline, but you still pass her a few more silver as a tip. You’ve never been so nervous as you are when you make your way back to the tavern where you’re staying, but it’s almost easy to keep your cool and mask the absolute terror you feel when Caleb is sitting with the group, eating dinner. You were kind of counting on him being in his room, reading, but you don’t let his sudden appearance stop you. Jester spots you first, patting the empty seat between her and Nott, calling your name. You slip into it, easily concealing your gifts behind your back. “Where did you go?”

A sly smile slips onto your face as you reach forward, taking a portion of the food they’d ordered, “Oh, you know, around.”

“You smell like perfume,” Beau leans over Nott and sniffs you, making a slightly disgusted face, “Why do you smell like perfume?”

“I went shopping,” You cut in before Jester and Molly can interject with salacious theories, “That shopping happened to be in the Tri-Spire, thank you very much.” Caleb raises an eyebrow, sharing a look with Fjord, but you ignore it. “What did you guys do today?” You don’t really listen - only enough to hum or nod as they’re speaking - because you’re focused on figuring out a plan to get your gifts to Caleb without the others noticing or making him feel like you’re doing it out of pity, or that he owes you. You just want him to be happy that he’s getting a gift. It’s later, when everyone has cleared out, that Jester shakes your shoulder lightly, calling your name.

“Are you okay?” Her dark blue eyebrows pull down over her eyes, incredibly worried, “You didn’t talk at all during dinner.” You take her hand in yours, squeezing it briefly.

“I’m fine, Jessie. I think I might head to bed, though.” You give her a hug before heading up to your room, looking over your shoulder just before you hit the stairs to see if Caleb had gone to bed when you had zoned out. He’s easy to find in the corner, nose deep in a book, and you grin. That makes everything so much easier, especially since Nott is tucked into the booth next to him. That means that their room is completely empty and a perfect place to drop the gifts without any of the unnecessary baggage that might come with giving them to him face to face. You don’t even think about the fact that he might have warded his room until it’s too late. (That being until you watch the string snap around your ankles when you make it four steps into the room.)

But, damnit, you have a mission to complete. There’s at least a minute before Caleb makes it to the stairs and perhaps another half a minute before he hits the door. You set the things up on what you think is Caleb’s bed a little messier than you wanted but you’re running out of time. The door is a no-go to leave, and you can hear Caleb bounding up the steps. You whirl, tugging your cloak tightly around you as you debate jumping through the window instead of opening it. In the end that will just draw an entirely different reaction than you want, so you settle for slamming the window up and slinging one leg over the sill. Caleb’s room is on the second floor, so the fall might hurt a little bit, but Caleb is right outside the door, so you don’t have any other choices-

“Was machst du in meinem Zimmer!?” He bellows, hands already engulfed in flame, when he kicks the door open. It startles you off of the window sill, luckily into the room instead of out. You pop up, hands raised and already talking.

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re saying but I didn’t know you had your room warded, I was just trying to give you the things that I bought you today, and then by the time I realized it was too late because I couldn’t just leave without giving you the stuff, because then you’d be scared-” Caleb extinguishes the flames that had started to crawl up his arms, shutting the door as he comes closer to the bed. You scramble to your feet, snagging your cloak in your hands to twist it nervously. “-I should leave now, excuse me.” You do your best to skirt around him but Caleb holds up a hand, eyes on the pile of loot you’ve left on his bed. He wraps a warm hand around your wrist to keep you in place as he tries to process what’s happening.

“What is on my bed?” Caleb finally looks toward you then, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you nervously fidget with your robe, biting your lower lip. “I am not mad, but what do you mean things you bought me?” He gestures loosely with the other hand and you take a step closer to him and the bed. You weren’t ready for being confronted with Caleb, despite how much you thought about what you might say to him in a situation like this. You almost swallow your tongue trying to figure out what to say to him.

“I bought you things,” You blurt, “Because you deserve it. I’m not sure if it’s all the right things, but I tried and even if you can’t use them for, you know, magic things you can use them for other stuff-” You watch as he makes his way over to the pile and begins rifling through it, mumbling to himself in Zemnian. “I’m not doing this out of pity, or anything,” You move to his side, peeking over as he skims through the book you bought, “I did it because I want to, I promise.” You wring your hands and look off to the side, avoiding watching the way he’s pouring over what you’ve bought, “You weren’t even really supposed to know they’re from me, honestly, I just wanted to do something nice for you because you deserve kindness-”

“-I am not so sure about that,” Caleb turns to you, catching your attention. He smiles, but it’s weak, when he looks at the small pile you’ve bought for him, “The spells will be useful for the group, but the rest… You are too kind.”

“I’m not!” Perhaps on instinct, you reach out and clasp his wrists in your hands, “No, Caleb, please. I didn’t do this to make you feel bad, I want you to feel good. You’re so bright, Caleb, and so amazing that I just want you to feel a fraction of the happiness you make me feel.” He hesitates so you press on, taking the chance to step closer to him as your heart takes off at a breakneck pace in your chest. “Please, don’t feel guilty. I did this because I want to, okay? I want to make you happy and make you smile, and make you feel good because it makes me feel good. You don’t have to do - to do anything and if you want, I’ll stop. You just say the word and I’ll stop, but I see you, Caleb.” Your voice breaks off as your eyes mist over. He looks awe-inspired at you, not stepping away or pulling from your grasp, “I see you. I see the way you bite back jokes, and sometimes they slip through. I see the way you care for us, for Nott. I see the way you sacrifice yourself in everything you do because you don’t feel like you deserve to be happy, but you do. Please, you are such a good man - I can see it. I can feel it, Caleb. You deserve the world’s largest kindness, but if I can’t give that to you I’ll give you small kindnesses, if you’ll let me.” Your lip quivers and your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you decide to fling yourself off the metaphorical cliff you’ve found yourself on, “Caleb Widogast, I wish to give you never-ending small kindnesses not only because you deserve them, but because I love you. I am in love with you.” The difference sits heavy in the air between you as you watch Caleb process everything that you’ve said.

“You… Are you in love with me?”

“Undoubtedly.” You confirmed, whispering. He’s stepped toward you a fraction of an inch, but it puts the both of you nearly chest to chest. “I have never been so sure of something, Caleb.”

“I enjoy the way you say my name.” He confesses. You watch in wonder as red begins to crest from underneath his facial hair, coloring his cheeks a rosy, pretty pink. He tries to look away, but you duck your head to try and keep some semblance of eye contact. Your hands tremble in his.

“I’ll say it forever, then,” You try to smile, but you really only manage an upward quiver of your lips, “Every day, if you’ll accept my kindness.”

“Es wird schwer,” Caleb says under his breath as he shuffles even closer to you, “Es wird so schwer, aber ich werde es versuchen.” You’re not totally sure what he’s saying, but when he presses a terrified, hesitant kiss against your lips the message comes across loud and clear.

[wristpockets]

Can I throw some prompts at you? All fluffy but with potential for Deep Emotional Talks™ if that's what you're after. Anyway: 1. Essek and jester trying to cook/ bake for the first time (two rich kids who have never been in a kitchen while food has been made) lots of potential for comedy but also ways to explore the differences and similarities in their childhoods?? 2. Caleb and Essek teaching each other dances from their homelands, (I feel like Essek probably had to learn formal dances in his youth and absolutely despised them until he realized that dancing with someone you actually like can be fun) Anyhow, happy writing!

Thanks for the suggestions! Going with the first one!

(If anyone else has any fic prompts/ideas/requests feel free to send them my way!)

This kind of got away from me 😅 Ended up a lot longer than expected. Not going to spend too much time proofreading or editing bc this was supposed to be fun. Anyway

Essek is leaning over the railing on the Nein Heroez, a glass of wine in his hand. He can hear the party going on behind him - the rest of the Nein get together every month for dinner - but he needed to get away for a moment. He watches the moonlight reflect off the waves as he swirls the wine in his glass.

He doesn't notice Jester until she's right next to him.

"What's wrong, Essek?" she asks, her voice laden with sincerity and sympathy.

He sighs, takes a long sip of his wine, and says, "I feel inadequate."

"Oh no Essek," Jester says. She moves closer, until she can bump her hip against his. "You're so powerful. And!" She lowers her voice conspiratorially, "I saw the way you floated in Cognouza. You were faster than Caleb, which I think means you're even smarter than he is."

Essek actually smiles at that. Lets out a little laugh. "You're not wrong. But I'm not concerned with my power or intelligence."

"Then how do you think you're inadequate? In what way? Is it-" Jester cuts herself off, looking over at him while wiggling her eyebrows.

"No," he says quickly, his ears heating up. "Everyone else is so..." He looks for the word and comes up blank. "Caleb and I see Beauregard and Yasha for dinner quite often. Yasha will have freshly baked bread, or even cake. Beauregard works all day, and Yasha stays home and cooks."

"I think she's happy though," Jester says.

"I think so too," Essek says quickly. "Caleb works all day too, and I stay home and do nothing." He lets out a little laugh. "I cannot believe this is my problem. Feeling bad that I cannot cook dinner while my - while Caleb is working."

Jester's eyes light up. "Okay," she says. "Okay okay. For our next get together, we're making dessert. Me and you."

Beauregard and Yasha are hosting the next meetup. Essek had collected Jester, Fjord and Kingsley early that morning, to give Jester and Essek time to make dessert.

They sent Caleb and Fjord out of the house and set to work in Caleb's kitchen.

But when Essek takes the third batch of cupcakes out of the oven - burned on the outside, somehow raw inside - he's ready to give up.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," Essek says quietly. He floats there, uselessly, staring at another failed attempt at a fairly simple baked good. "Is this how you normally make them?"

"Hmm?" Jester says, looking over at him. She dips her finger into the frosting she'd been working on. "I've never made cupcakes before."

Essek turns toward her. "What? You've never-"

"Nope," Jester says, matter-of-factly. She puts the icing-covered finger in her mouth, tasting the frosting, before scrunching up her nose. "This is awful."

Essek deflates a little. "So we are currently lacking both edible cupcakes and edible icing."

Even Jester's smile falls. "I'm sorry, Essek."

"It's not your fault," Essek says. "We still have some ingredients - what do you know how to make? What could we make quickly that's simpler?"

Jester looks down at the floor. "I don't know."

"Anything," Essek pleads. "Anything you've baked successfully-"

"I've never baked anything," Jester admits quietly.

"Oh," Essek says.

"Yeah."

Jester turns so her back is to the counter, then slides down, sitting on the floor. "I know how you feel. I feel like I should know how to do this."

Essek floats over, then sits down next to her. He can't bear the look on her face. "Two powerful adventurers, brought low by mere cupcakes," he jokes.

"I wanted to do this," Jester says, still quiet. "I wanted to bake something for everyone, something delicious! Something everyone would eat and say, 'oh Jester, your baking is so delicious,' and then maybe I'm not just the girl who draws dicks on things."

"You're a lot more than that," Essek tries.

Jester nods. "I know. I just feel bad."

"I feel that way too," Essek says. "All this power and knowledge and ability - for what? What good is it doing me here, now? And I know it's not an either-or thing. Caleb cooks. Even Beauregard does sometimes. I've never so much as fried an egg."

"Neither have I," Jester admits. "When I lived at home..."

"I understand," Essek says, and he knows he does.

"It's just embarrassing," Jester says.

"Yes," Essek agrees.

They sit like that for a moment, until they hear the front door open.

"Essek? Jester?" Caleb calls from the entryway. "Am I allowed in the kitchen yet?"

"Not yet!" Jester yells. "Almost done! Fifteen minutes!"

Essek looks at her in shock, and she just shrugs her shoulders.

"I do not possess the arcane ability to create cupcakes," Essek says blankly. "And I am unsure of how else we might make a dessert in that time."

"I panicked," Jester says apologetically. "Maybe some of the cupcakes aren't so bad-"

"They are," Essek says as Jester leans over batch number two, tearing off a piece of cupcake and trying it cautiously. After a few bites she scrunches her nose, then spits it out into the garbage.

"It looked good," Jester pouts. "I can't believe cupcakes would lie to me."

Something connects and Essek can feel his eyes widen. "I have an idea."

Several hours later, Jester and Essek are ready to present their cupcakes to the rest of the Nein. At the very least, they look nice - frosting is apparently close enough to painting for Jester to have some skill at it.

"These look delicious," Caleb says, smiling up at Essek. The compliment in front of their friends makes Essek's cheeks heat up, and he's grateful his complexion doesn't let it show.

"I might need to get some pointers from you," Yasha says as she carefully peels off the cupcake wrapper. "I wish I could frost like this."

"Don't eat that!" Beau shouts, quickly leaning over to slap it out of her hand.

Everyone stops to stare at Beauregard, Yasha's mouth still open, the cupcake discarded on the floor.

"What's wrong, Beauregard?" Essek asks nervously.

"They've been tampered with," she says. She picks up Yasha's dinner plate. "These plates are enchanted. They change colour if any of the food on it is fucked with. A few crumbs fell off of it." She points to a few speckles of bright purple on the plate. "I watched the plate react to the crumbs."

"Tampered with?" Fjord asks. "Tampered how?"

"I don't fucking know, man," Beau says. "It doesn't like, tell me."

"Um," Essek says carefully. "Would a magical alteration to the dish set off that reaction?"

"I should fucking hope so," Beau says, "since that's the whole point."

"In that case," Essek says, shooting Jester a worried look, "then yes, they were tampered with. But they will not harm you."

"Essek," Caleb says, looking at him worriedly.

"It's just prestidigitation," Essek says hurriedly. "We used it to flavour the cupcakes and the frosting." He takes a bite of his own cupcake. "See? They're safe."

"But why?" Veth asks. "Surely it can't be any worse than that fish stew Fjord made us all eat last time."

Essek looks at Jester again, who looks resigned. He waves his hand, dismissing the spell. "See for yourself."

Caleb is the first one that takes Essek up on that, tearing off a piece with his fingers and tasting it. Essek can see Caleb trying very hard to keep his expression neutral. He eventually - with some difficulty - swallows the bite of cupcake. "Ja," he says, eventually. "It's not that bad." He offers Essek a warm smile.

"Well that's obviously a lie," Veth says, pushing her plate a few inches away from her.

"Sorry guys," Jester says. She's looking down at the table and looks absolutely lost. "We just wanted to make something nice."

"Have either of you ever baked anything, ever?" Veth asks, picking up a tiny piece of the cupcake and trying it. "This is awful. I love you Jessie, but who taught you to bake?"

Jester looks too crestfallen to answer. "Both of us are, ah, new to this," Essek admits instead.

"Maybe cooking lessons are in order," Fjord says. "I used to cook on the ship, back when I was getting started. I could show you a few things, Jester."

Jester nods, still looking down at the table.

"And I could teach you," Caleb says to Essek.

"That would be appreciated," Essek says.

"Okay," Jester says. She sighs, then looks up at everyone. Forces a smile. "Okay. Me and Essek are going to learn how to cook, and then we'll make something for next time."

"Maybe not cupcakes," Beau says.

"Maybe nothing for anyone who complains about my baking again," Jester retorts.

"There are some desserts from Rosohna I'd like to recreate, if possible," Essek says. "If I can find a recipe."

"That sounds nice," Caduceus says.

"I am not much for sweets, but I do like some of the ones in Rosohna," he continues. "They're, ah, made with cinnamon. I don't think they do that here in the Empire."

"They don't!" Jester almost yells, smiling. "I know! It's crazy!"

[peach-the-owl]

Rescued

Part 2 of Taken

Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)

I really hope this turned out as well as I imagined it to

Jester

You were honestly surprised to see your old caretaker again after so long, ever since that scuffle near Nicodranas you never did know what happened to them when they disappeared, forgetting about those worries when you met Jester not too long after. Yet here they were, after accidentally wandering away from Jester they come out of nowhere and whisk you off to who knows where, and they seemed to be in a hurry about it too. Throughout their little road trip you hoped that every turn or small stop would reveal Jester waiting to rescue you along with the rest of the Nein, sadly this wasn’t the case. Had you bothered to pay proper attention you’d know which city you were approaching but being dragged off the cart and through a variety of underground tunnels didn’t really help pinpoint things for you. You finally stop but at this point you'd decided to just keeping your eyes to the ground trying not to let fear take control over you.

"Alright! Here they are, just like I’d promised." Your caretaker, though now you scoff at the idea of this person ever caring for you, roughly pulls you forward into view, you keep your eyes on the ground. "Sooo… everything should be settled now, right? My debts payed and I’m free to go?" There’s a silence that feels like it lasts an eternity before a new voice, one you recognized speaks.

"The 'special cargo' you mentioned was… this child?" You peek up from your position and are shocked to see that the person your caretaker was negotiating with was none other then the Gentleman. He didn’t look surprised to see you but you hoped that was just so he could keep up with his appearance, you look to him with pleading eyes hoping that he could help you and you think you see a slight change in his expression as he leans over to whisper to one of his associates. When he’s done they hurry off somewhere and he turns his attention back to you. "And you speak the truth when you say they don’t have other connections or family?"

"Goodness no, this little thing has never been with anyone else but myself the whole time." They reply with a laugh, making you scowl at them. The Gentleman narrows his eyes and their laughter dies down quickly, getting a more nervous look.

"I don’t take kindly to those who think they can get away with lying to me." He says in a threatening tone, then snaps his fingers and two large henchmen grab the caretaker firmly by both arms.

"No, wait wait! Please! I-I'm not lying, the kid hasn’t been with anyone else but me!" They stammer, trying to sound convincing.

"Then I’m sure you have a reasonable explanation as to how this child in your possession looks exactly like my… one of my subordinates kids, or should I let (y/n) explain themselves." At the mention of your name the caretakers face completely drains of colour as realization creeps in. The Gentleman, completely unfazed waves his hand and his bodyguard, Sorah, walks over and frees you of your bindings while the others who still had the caretaker in their grip drag them off with them kicking and screaming that they were cheated and begging for another chance.

"Thank you." You say in a hushed voice, rubbing at your wrists.

"I’ve got someone to inform Jester of your whereabouts. You’re free to wait here until you’re retrieved, just don’t make a mess." You nod and go sit at one of the tables, pulling out a little notebook Jester gave you and begin writing and drawing in it to help pass time…

"(Y/n)!" You look up from your drawing to see Jester bounding up to you, easily picking you up and twirls you around in a big hug that you are more then happy to return. "I was so worried about you. We tried to follow but you were already so far away I didn’t know if I’d find you again." She wipes a few tears away and places a kiss to your forehead, you just snuggle into her more. "Thank you for helping them dad. See you do care!" She turns her attention to the Gentleman who in return gives an exaggerated sigh and rubs at his temples.

"We’ve been over this already… but you’re welcome." The second part came out more as a mutter. The two of you happily wave, and you quickly pick up your notebook before Jester makes her way out of the bar with you securely in her arms.

Nott

You’re thrown into a pit very much against your will, the pit itself was 40 feet wide with you on one side and on the other side of it a snarling owlbear chained to a wall, though the chains didn't look like they’d hold for much longer. Oh why did you have to let the allure of sparkly things get the better of you?

"Ladies, gentlemen! Place your bets!" One of the hosts called to the crowd. "Our fierce killer Dezmo or the half pint!"

"What kinda dumb name is Dezmo?" You mutter to yourself. You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as a high pitched whistle rings in your ears, irritating them. By the looks of it the sound was irritating the owlbear too, as it thrashes and roars in aggravation, the chains give way and the owlbear instantly starts charging for you. Thinking fast you dart under the beast, which compared to your tiny size towers over you, and start looking for any sort of escape route or places to hide. The beast spins around and swats at you, you managing to just barely duck out of the way and the crowd goes crazy for it.

"Come on folks, if you’re really confident place your final bets now and let’s see if the half pint can keep up." They blow that stupid whistle again, further aggravating the owlbear as it try’s charging you again, the audience hoots and hollers over it. These people were awful cheering for a large monster to attack child, then again they probably saw you as a monster too which disheartened you to know you were nothing but entertainment for them. You’re struck by a heavy blow from the beast, crashing into a wall and left teetering on the verge of losing consciousness, the beast stalks forward, rears up for a final strike but it ends up screeching in pain instead. A familiar goblin mom steps in front of you as a barrier between the monster and yourself, hissing menacingly at the it. The owlbear try's rearing up again, this time more focused on Nott who shoots another bolt from her crossbow nailing the beast in the eye. Your picked up and handed to Jester by Yasha as she and Beau also enter the pit, the audience were surprisingly enthused by this, cheering for a good fight, the only people unamused by this were the hosts to the whole ordeal.

"Oi! What'd ya think you’re doin'! That was our money maker you just shot!" One calls down, they’re answered with a bolt lodging itself into their collarbone and they cry out in pain.

"That’s what you get for using a child to get your sick kicks!" Nott yells ferociously. With Yasha and Beau having made swift work to the owlbear, Nott climbs her way out of the pit, going over to Jester as she finishes using Cure Wounds on you. "Are you alright? Do you need me to carry you?" She asks, already taking you into her arms and placing kisses all over your face. You just wrap your arms around her neck and hide your face in her shoulder, she takes this as her sign to leave and with the others following not far behind walks through the crowd towards the exit.

"Oh yeah, we also called the local guard, they should be here any minute!" You hear Jester shout before you all hurry away.

Caleb

This strange woman had come out of nowhere, took you by the hand and walked off from where Caleb told you to wait without a word, you tried to pull away but her grip was firm as she tugged you along. She lead your unwilling self through alleys, stopping every now and again, waiting for areas to be less populated before heading off again.

"Where are we going? Where'd you even come from?" You been asking these questions several times but the woman would just ignore them.

"Hush now dear, if I let go you’ll try to run from mommy again. If you did that mommy would have a hard time finding you like the first time. Now be a good kid and stay close, we're going home." You knew for a fact this woman wasn’t your mother and this "home" she spoke of was not where you wanted to go. Using your head you tried to think if there was any spell you could use to free yourself of the woman’s iron grip, you try to reach for your little bag but the woman snatches it and slings it over her own shoulder. "No need for that, you can play when we make it to the boat." Wait… boat? Was she trying to get you off Wildemount?

"No I don’t want to leave! You’re not my mom, let me go I don’t want to go with you!" You try shouting to get someone’s attention.

"Oh you and your wild imagination, enough games, let’s go." She had a weirdly sweet voice but it only furthered your unease around her. You try thrashing, pulling and reaching for your bag multiple times but still the woman’s grip held firm as you were dragged to the docks. Fear started creeping in, you couldn’t free yourself from her steely grip and who knows where she’s trying to take you. Worst of all if you couldn’t get away you might never see Caleb or anyone ever again, that thought alone made you start to cry. "Oh, don’t cry dear, see we're almost home free." Up ahead was what you’d have to assume to be the boat she was talking about, you tried one more time to wriggle free of her grasp to no avail.

The woman’s steps come to a halt making you pause and also look up to see a wall of fire blaze across the docks, blocking entry to the boat. Your fears dying down when you see a rather angry Caleb march his way towards you, the rest of the Nein not far behind.

"You," Caleb raises an arm pointing at this woman, his voice coming out almost as a hiss. "Get your filthy hands off of my child."

"They’re not yours they’re mine! I will not let you take them from me!" Those who were on the ship must’ve worked or had some relation to this woman as they join her and get into an offensive stance. Before long a fight breaks out between the Nein and the ships crew and once again the woman tries to drag you along with her. "It’s alright dear, they won’t get you." Her sweet demeanour was breaking, getting more and more crazy every time she talked. You butt you head against her as a response making her loosen her grip, you try to bolt as far away from her as you could, calling out for Caleb as you do. There’s a sudden grip on the collar of your shirt and you're yanked back into the woman’s arms, her face full of fury.

"If I can’t have a child of my own… Then they won’t either!" The woman screeches like a psychopath and throws the both of you into the ocean, you shrieking in fear. There's the hard impact from the surface of the water followed by a feeling of figurative and literal sinking into the dark depths, you try and wriggle yourself free but this crazy woman refused to let go and with smaller lungs you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep this up before running out of air. As a last resort you take your chance and bite the woman’s arm as hard as you can, ending up drawing blood, her screams of pain muffled in the water but you’re able to break free of her grip, manage to grab your bag and kick her down farther as you try to swim for the surface. Flailing your legs and arms to propel yourself forward was harder then you thought, your cloths weighing you down quite a bit, but before you completely lose hope and air there’s a dulled splash and soon something grabs you, hauling you out of the water. You gasp for air again and cough up a bit of sea water noticing you’re soaring high in the sky, looking up over your shoulder at the giant, orange eagle and instantly know who it is, a smile placing itself on your face.

Having safely made it back to land you’re carefully placed down and shiver from the chilly ocean air that blew in, trying your best to squeeze out as much water from your cloths as possible. There’s a ruffling of feathers before you find yourself wrapped up by two large wings, the head of the giant bird nuzzling itself into you and helping warm you up again. You always like when Caleb polymorphed into animals, he was always more willing for cuddles that way, with that said, you wrap your arms around his neck as best you can and nuzzle him back with no arguments.

Caduceus

These people were heartless, taking "exotic specimens" to be sold or traded for their own selfish needs, you used to not be the only one occupying your little cell but the others didn’t stay long and you feared you’d be next. Of course being a druid meant you could use something like Wildshape to escape, and of course you would’ve loved to use it too had it not been for some sort of magic nullifying enchantment on the restraints you were shackled in. With no means of using magic to your disposal and no way to call for help with the gag in your mouth you resorted to try thrashing around, attempting to tug free of the shackles that chained you to a wall. All this lead to was having your wrists rubbed raw, still you fought through the pain praying they’d eventually give, the stinging feeling only getting worse and harder to ignore until you felt something warm and wet running down your arms. You're hesitant to look, but see that your insistent tugging caused the shackles to cut into your wrists making them start bleed, badly. You take in deep and slow breaths through your nose to keep yourself calm, seeing as you had no way to cast any healing spell in your situation you try not to panic and slow the blood flow as best as possible. Tears stream down your face, the pain wasn’t helping with your wrist this sensitive it only amplified the feeling of the shackles digging into them, and you were starting to feel lightheaded.

A commotion and the sounds of people fighting catch your ears whipping your head in the direction it was coming from, then instantly regret that choice at the dizziness it caused. You try to make a sound, only muffled noises getting passed the fabric covering your mouth but you persist hoping someone hears you. The fighting dies down as silence takes over, making you worry whoever was here had lost the battle or left, until the cell door opens and two familiar people step in, hurrying over to you. Caduceus helps to remove the rag over your mouth while Nott makes quick work of the shackles seeing the bloody mess on your wrists. The second your wrists are free you feel a gentle, soothing sensation spread over them looking down to watch the lichen cover up the cuts before crumpling away, leaving behind hairline scars. You gently rub at your wrists to help regain circulation in them before leaning your full weight into Caduceus with a soft sobs.

"Shhh, it’s going to be okay, I’m here." Caduceus hushes you, wrapping his arms around your smaller form in a secure embrace.

"They-they were gonna try and sell me away." You hiccup through your tears.

"It’s alright now, we took care of them, they won’t be taking anyone anymore." He calmly reassures, you give a small nod and cuddle yourself into his chest more. Finally feeling safe and secure you let yourself pass out from the exhaustion you’ve felt.

Fjord

You kicked and flailed in hopes of wiggling free from this thugs grasp on you, all this while screaming at the top of your lungs in the hopes that your cry’s of distress would be loud enough to alert the rest of your sleeping group. Sure your voice would be ruined for a while but that was a small sacrifice you were willing to make if it meant freedom.

"Oh would you shut up! Why haven’t you gagged them yet!?" This groups leader calls over his shoulder getting very agitated with you, good that means your plan was working.

"They won’t stop squirming."

"Then hold them still idiots!" The one that had you thrown over their shoulder try’s using his free hand to hold you down, you swing your head over and bite them without hesitation, they retract their hand and slightly loosen their grip just enough for you to move your arms, perfect. The other two goons come closer to try and restrain you better, you focus and when they’re close enough in range…

"Thunderwave!" You shout, using the newly gained mobility in your arms to flick your hands out and cast the spell. The two goons are knocked back and the one that was holding you is knocked to the ground releasing their grip in the process, a loud thunderous boom shakes through the trees, if that didn’t alert anyone you don’t know what would. Knowing you weren’t a match against 4 men at once you sprint in the direction you came as fast as possible, trying to stay close to the path while using the trees for extra cover. You take a second to catch your breath, all the screaming and shouting did a real number to your throat, it felt dry and it hurt to even attempt making a noise now.

"Keep searching, the brat couldn’t have gotten far!" You could hear the bandits approaching and go to make another run for it, but are caught and thrown harshly to the dirt path. In an attempt to push yourself off the ground you feel a foot press heavily against your back, pushing you into the jagged gravel. "Didn’t ya hear my warning?" They mockingly ask, pressing the cold steel of their blade against your neck. "I’m not against killing you kid." They slowly start to press the blade deeper into your neck, feeling it pierce the skin and draw blood. The feeling of the blade suddenly leaves you, but your left still bleeding and having a hard time controlling your breath from the panic of almost having your throat slit.

A calming sensation eases in and your breathing starts improving again, even the dryness in your throat feels a little better but you’re still not well enough to talk. You look up at Caduceus, being the one who healed you and give him a smile and a thumbs up, he returns the smile and ruffles your hair before helping you back on your feet properly. Fjord soon comes up to you and kneels down to your height, placing his hands on your shoulders, a heavy look of guilt on his face.

"Are you alright?" His voice wavered a little. You rub your neck a little as a ways to show it was sore but give a small nod. "Thank the Wildemother, I was so worried. I’m sorry I let this happen to you, I should’ve…" He trails off a bit, tightening his grip on your shoulders. You just lean forward and give him a hug, locking your arms around his neck as your body shakes a little from the whole encounter, he lets out a breath before returning the hug, securing his arms around you and lifting you up in the process. He then starts making his way back to camp, the rest of Nein in tow.

Beau

These ninjas, if you could even call them that, must’ve really underestimated their opponent, sure they were able to capture you but that was because they had numbers on their side while you were just one kid, that didn’t stop you from breaking free and taking them on. What did they even want with you anyways, you saw one drop a note by accident, did someone hire them? Either way you had to be careful the longer you took them on the more exhausted you were starting to feel. You go to land another hit on one of them when a sound you knew well hits your ears and makes you freeze on the spot, and suddenly feel helpless. That sound was the chime of a silver bell, not bronze or gold no particularly silver, you knew that chime all too well and you hated it and the effects it had on you. How did they even- you cut off your own thoughts at a terrifying realization… did your parents send them? Having lost focus you get socked in the jaw and lay limply on the ground, trying to process what was happening. You then hear pained grunts and look over to see Beau fighting off the enemies with some backup from Caleb and Caduceus. You push yourself off the ground but can’t make yourself do more them that, just watching the fight come to an end.

"No one messes with my kid." Beau growls angrily before making her way over to you. "You doing alright (y/n)? If you need any healing I can get Caduceus to check on you." You shake your head, a few stray tears escaping you which Beau defiantly didn’t miss. "Whoa! Hey, you sure you’re alright?" She asks with more concern now.

"I know who sent them." You speak just above a whisper, voice quivering as you do. An arm wraps around your shoulder as Beau joins in sitting next to you, finding yourself leaning into her side as she rubs your arm in a comforting way.

"Tell me who." She spoke with a serious tone, clearly ready to take down whoever caused you this type of grief.

"My parents." You look away from her and shrink a little into yourself.

"What? How can you tell?" She asks, surprised by this. You point over at the discarded bell left laying on the ground.

"Before they sent me away that was how they 'trained' me, they’d ring a bell whenever I’d misbehave… It was always a silver bell." You shift uncomfortably at the memories and feel Beau tighten her grip on you.

"Well, if they want you back so badly, they’re gonna have to pry you from my cold dead hands themselves." You look up at her in shock, she gives you a side smile. "You’re my student and technically my kid now too. Don’t think I’m gonna let 'The Man' take you that easily without a fight." You smile at this and she ruffles up your hair earning a small laugh from you too.

Yasha

It was terrifying to be without Yasha for this long with these dangerous brutes, what did they even want with you? It’s not like you could offer anything valuable to them or were they just doing this for their own sick kicks. You didn’t want to think too much on it, instead looking for any sort of opening to escape but finding nothing that wouldn’t lead to a confrontation. You could try and test your luck and just snap free of your binding, but it’s never faired well in the past and you didn’t want to end up on the end of a stake, that thought alone makes you shudder.

"Intruders are here!" You hear one shout as the others leave the room, this was your chance, now that they were distracted you easily snap out of the rope they’d tied you in and go to grab your weapon they left discarded on the floor, how rude of them. Being a sneaky as possible your make your way towards the exit and see the brutes fighting against the Mighty Nein. Yasha was facing off with the largest of the brutes well in a rage, screaming at them to tell her where you were. You weren’t sure how battle ready you were at the current time, but you wanted to help so gripping your sword in hand you charge at the brute from behind and take a large swing, slicing into the back of his knee. The brute roars in pain and does a wide sweep with his battle axe, you try to jump back but your earlier forward momentum makes you stagger and get hit by the blade, knocking you backwards by the sheer force.

You skid across the ground gripping tightly to your gut, slowly being surrounded by a puddle of your own blood, it was excruciating as you pitifully try to stop the heavy blood flow by holding your stomach tighter. You try to focus on staying conscious as an angry roar like thunder tears through the cave, you could only guess it to be Yasha having seen what just happened. It feels like an eternity before the pain slowly starts to disappear, the soft light of Jester's healing magic makes you blink open your eyes and look up at her, she gives you a smile and helps you to your feet. You wobble a little but catch yourself and walk back over to the group where you see them finish off the last of the brutes, Yasha taking a big swing bisecting them from the shoulder to their waist. When she looks over and sees you standing there she drops her weapon and runs to you, scooping you into her arms and lets out a few sobs.

"You had me so scared. I thought I lost you too." You grip tightly to her and just share in this sweet reunion.

"I’m sorry I scared you." You apologize, but she shakes her head.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for, and you’re safe now that’s what matters." She breaths out, with a sigh of relief. She then carries you out of the cave and finally back together again you go to join up with the Mighty Nein.

Molly

Numb, that’s all you could feel right now was just numb, these Iron Shepherds had no mercy no matter the age and it showed from the various scars and bruises you received. You lay in the dingy cell they’d placed you in, if you could you would’ve taken this time to think back on your decisions that lead to this moment but you were just too mentally and physically drained to care anymore. As numb as you were everything still hurt, and you felt so exhausted, you just wanted this to end or for something to happen. So stuck in your own head the rest of the world was drowned out to you making you miss the sounds of footsteps and shouts ring throughout the hideout.

There’s a screeching sound of a cell door being opened, you curl in on yourself in a hopeless attempt to prepare for whatever beating may be coming your way. There’s no pain just a hand placing itself on your shoulder, you instinctually flinch away from the touch, they were playing cruel mind games with you now, they had to be, there was just no other explanation for someone trying to be so careful with you. Whoever it was they were persistent, gently taking you into their arms and lifting you up, feeling a strangely comforting warmth wash over you compared to the cold stone floor you were just laying on. They were whispering something you couldn’t quite catch but you try your best to focus and listen.

"Everything’s gonna be alright now love, I promise. They’re not going to hurt you anymore." There voice came out softly as you’re held in their protective grip. Slowly you regain more and more focus and finally notice the familiar colours of a very elaborate coat, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the relief that this wasn’t some cruel trick by your captors and was in fact reality. With the small amount of strength you still had you carefully raise your arms to return the embrace and start weeping uncontrollably, letting out all the tears you’d been holding back. Molly's grip on you tightens slightly, being careful to not hurt you as though you were fragile and could break at a moments notice. "We had ourselves a long day, haven’t we? Let’s get you out of this hellhole." With that he exits the dingy cell and carries you out of the Sour Nest.

[captainsspnanon]

C2E40 - Dubious Pursuits - rewatch

IT’S A HALLOWEEN EPISODE I FORGOT IT’S A HALLOWEEN EPISODE

for a split second I was trying to remember if we got the happy fun ball early, but no, that’s going to be probably the NEXT Halloween episode (“Jester! Put it down!  NOW!” is burned into my head.  I can’t tell if it’s Caleb or Liam but *fans self*)

Aw, no Laura this episode.  And I love that Travis’s costume is a hat and M&M gloves.  How is Sam’s ketchup costume more put together??? XD

Oh!  Liam’s back to the dark mug!  (and Travis’s gloves have come off INSTANTLY)

I love Liam doing the ‘Kylo Ren’ voice because I don’t watch Star Wars (I’m not a big action movie person, star trek tv shows tend to be more my jam. Hence why I’m also not big on the new star trek movies that were just action movies), so I have no clue if it’s accurate or not.

THEY BROKE MATT!!!! It’s so so rare now that they get him with a shout out, I love when it happens!  Travis did it this time ‘round.

...Caleb asking how many eyes he has right now hits WAY different XDDD

What the fuck is that flask Sam omg

Ah, the three murals with the three eyes in each, a deliberate red herring from Matt.  It was fun hearing him talk about this and what plot threads could have come from this during the wrap up.

I like that the Uk’otoa mural has amber eyes all along the body, and I’m just here thinking that Caleb should pry some out so he won’t need to buy any for his eventual Vault. XD

Hmmm.  After last Talks Machina where Liam said that Caleb would try to stop Fjord from raising Uk’otoa, I wonder if Caleb grabbing Fjord to talk before he could follow Avantika into the well was planned deliberately.  It ends up not making much of a difference, because Fjord does still get there first and just fails to figure out how to place the eye, but still.

HOURGLASS!!!  We never got many of these.  Have they ever actually run out the time on camera?

Enlarging Caduceus! Very smart move!!  (also I totally think Matt wiffed the roll for Yasha, and that’s why he gave Beau advantage instead.  He’s a very generous DM)

LOL as I bring it up, the sand runs out.  Penalty is only that the water fully fills the chamber, which is not too bad.

I like how after this, they I think always have someone with the spell water breathing.  Burn me once!

Faaaaaack another combat.

Ah, the Kiss of Life.  This is one of those moments that so small, but it’s so hard to imagine the campaign if it didn’t happen.  Though a part of me does wonder how the scene would have played out if 1) Caduceus was the one with the key, or 2) if Laura was actually there.  I feel like at least part of Fjord’s decision came from Travis not wanting his wife’s PC to die while she wasn’t there, and I do wonder if he would have gone for a kiss had Cad been the one instead, or if he would have done a more physical attempt of taking the key and dragging Cad along or something like that.

I like when Matt starts the chase skill challenge he straight up says that they have six rounds of it.  It gives them an idea of what to expect, because six is a LOT when you don’t know how much you have to do, and I can see them keep asking after three if they hadn’t made it yet.  So saying six ahead of time means that they’re aware of exactly how long this can take.

They don’t roll damage for the fluffernutter, so I don’t think we actually find out how much damage it can do!  Sad times.

Nott drawing the attention of the lizard-folk hits a LOT harder in hindsight knowing about her sacrificing herself to save Yeza and Luc.  This is, apparently, a trademark tactic of hers, despite her as Nott seemingly being very ‘selfish’ (except not really).  It also adds to both Veth and Nott’s stories.  It’s not her first choice to be self-sacrificing.  It’s not her second choice either.  But when the chips are down, it’s the risk that she will take herself rather than risking those she cares about.

Even though it was Taliesin’s idea, I like that it’s Yasha who is picking up and carrying Caleb when he hits two points of exhaustion.  I JUST WANT MORE YASHA CALEB INTERACTION.  These little guilt ridden introverts didn’t get enough time together. :(

Oh wow, after break almost EVERYONE is mostly out of costume except for Matt!!  (I suppose Sam is too, but he’s wearing a fricken ketchup costume, it’s hard to count it.  I suppose props for still wearing the hat, as that’s got to be uncomfortable)

I find it very very funny that the Squalleater name just sounds super wrong.  It’s the Ball Eater, Matt, get it right! XD

LOL after calling them out, Sam takes off his costume too.  PROPS WITHDRAWN.  ONLY MATT WINS.

It’s very interesting hearing Fjord pretty vehemently reject the possibility of releasing Uk’otoa at this time.  When they are in Xhorhas and his powers are taken away, Travis confirmed (I think in the wrap up, but maybe in a Talks) that he was 100% ready to go and release Uk’otoa just to get his powers back.  Knowing that, and seeing how against it Fjord is here is a fascinating play of how one can feel in control when one has what they want.  Fjord very much wants to continue to get more power, perhaps not the power that he would get from a full release, but the Control Water – he is very disappointed that he didn’t get it and is very driven to get it.  With his powers lost entirely, he seriously considers a prospect that he had rejected out of hand.   ...I have thoughts about this tying into his decision to serve the Wildmother, and Travis’s decision to multiclass, but I don’t have the energy to put it into words, so just assume that I said something very thought provoking and well worded.  (so not like my usual write ups XD)

Fuuuuuuck, Caleb’s face when he tells Fjord “you do what you have to” in regards to Avantika and the glass of wine.  I would not have been so aware of it had someone else not done a fantastic write up of how Caleb was taught to use his sexuality and how that colors his views of how the Avantika/Fjord interactions should go.  I can’t remember the post or who wrote it, but I did reblog it when I saw it ages ago.

AWWWW, Nott giving Fjord the vial of acid and the genuineness of the interaction.  Team Green, I believe is the name, SUCH a good combo of sass and feels.

I very much appreciate the fact that Matt is clearly giving Travis the opportunity to have these RP sessions with Avantika without having to have it go into overt sexuality, something that he knows Travis is uncomfortable with.  Matt gives little winks and nods, allowing the opening if Travis wanted to take action, but in no way makes it a ‘must do this to proceed’ sort of thing.  It makes Travis being willing to take that step fully his own decision without feeling pressured.

I like how “Seamen, seamen everwhere” “and not a drop to drink” ended up being the thing that broke Matt.

@suicidallyreckless

[iatethepomegranate]

Just a post-Aeor fic where Caleb buys a house with Beau and Yasha in Rexxentrum, becomes a professor, and learns how to be a person and protect people from what he has endured.

Content warnings: Caleb's backstory (a lot of it)

Chapter summary: Caleb's mind was in overdrive. There were so many calls to make, so many spells to prepare, so many things that could go wrong at every stage of this delicate operation, so many plans and backup plans and backup plans for backup plans. He could not let the past repeat itself.

Chapter notes: Say hello to a major plot arc. Also, I did my best to figure out a vague layout of the relevant parts of Rexxentrum but I am bad with directions, so *finger guns*

Chapter title from Eight by Sleeping At Last.

****

Chapter 6: I’m just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Driving Me Mad [G.W] - Part 5

Series Description: You and George come up with a plan to pretend to date each other. But what happens when you actually start to catch feelings...

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 

Word Count: 2.2k

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @fadesbrina, @sweetlyblushedbouquet

Description: You and George head to the party and things between you heat up quicker than expected

                                                            X

You arrived back at the castle just as the party was about to begin. You made your way to the Room of Requirement where people were excitedly awaiting your arrival, mainly for the goods you were bringing. As you walked into the room, you were greeted by the sound of applause and cheering. George made his rounds and you followed him, as he handed out the occasional butterbeer before placing the crate on a nearby ledge. A mob began surrounding you both and George grabbed two brews and pulled you away from the crate before the crowd could attack. 

You spotted Cho and Marietta across the way and walked over to them, mentally prepared to be bombarded with questions.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” Marietta spoke. 

“It’s about time! We’ve been dying to know about your new beau,” Cho added.

“Not much to tell. We’re just friends, at least for now.”

“No need to be coy, it’s just us. You can give us the details,” Cho persuaded. 

“Honestly Y/N, people are already speculating.”

“Let them speculate, it’s none of their business anyway,” you smirked, knowing the plan was going perfectly.

“Just promise you’ll tell us when things become official. I’d hate to hear about it from someone else,” Cho added. 

“Of course I will tell the both of you if something happens. For now though, I’m just happy to have an old friend back.”  

As the conversation continued, you stepped away momentarily to grab another drink. You approached the crate and grabbed a brew  when another hand reached for the same bottle. 

“Oh, sorry!” you said, pulling your hand back. You turned to see who you were apologizing to, when you spotted a familiar face. “Roger…”

“Hi Y/N. How’ve you been?” he asked. 

“I, uh, I’m-“ before you could fully answer, Ms. Fleur Delacour was by Roger’s side, practically hanging off his shoulder. She spoke something French to him and it was only then that she noticed you standing there. She gave you a confused look and Roger interjected.

“Fleur, this is my friend Y/N,” he introduced. You gave her an awkward smile and a small wave as she responded with, “Bonjour.” Seconds later she was whispering with Roger again and you ran through options of how to get out of this situation.

“Y/N, there you are!” you heard George say a few paces behind you. You turned to locate him and were blindsided when you found he was suddenly inches away from you. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist to draw you close to him and he cupped your face with his free hand as he lifted your jaw up to meet his face. He kissed you with such passion and you tried to hide the surprise that had come over you. George slowly released your lips and moved his arm to rest around your shoulder. 

“Oh, sorry mate. Didn’t see you there,” George commented with a smirk. You looked toward Roger and Fleur to see them both surprised as well. Roger made some small comment to excuse them from the scene and you turned to George, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry if I took you by surprise. I just saw you were ambushed and I did the first thing I could think of to help.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“You…you’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, of course not. I mean, you took me by surprise but I’m not upset about it.”

“Good thing, because I think just about everyone knows about us now so we’re gonna have to keep this up.” You turned to face your peers and found everyone gossiping in their respective cliques, trying to hide their looks in your direction. 

“Well George, I’d say we are officially a couple.” You squeezed his hand and returned to your group of friends. You needed a moment to catch your breath. The kiss was so unexpected and you didn’t want to admit it, but it swept you off your feet. Were you in too deep with this plan of yours? At this point, did you even want Roger back? Your mind was spinning and you didn’t really want to field all the questions from Cho and Marietta. You impulsively made the decision to just leave and return to the common room, where the only people there would be some young Gryffindors who wouldn’t bother you. You grabbed a book from your bedroom and curled up by the fire, trying to distract yourself from the current situation at hand. 

 “Had enough of the party?” A voice called to you. You looked up, half expecting to see George but it was his twin brother standing in the doorway. 

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know I just had a lot on my mind and I wanted to sit and think away from everyone.”

“Mmm,” he responded, merely nodding his head. “I thought you’d be with George.”

“I could say the same for you. But evidently he’s escaped both of us.” You thought that would be the end of your conversation since Fred had been so short with you lately, but he surprised you by sitting next to you on the couch.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked you..

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. What’s your angle here?”

“My angle? Look Fred, I don’t know why you’ve been so cold to me recently. We’ve known each other forever and I don’t get this.”

“We’ve been friends for ages, but the minute you hurt George we won’t be. He’s not like Roger, he won’t move on so easily. He’s better than a rebound.”

“I know that. He’s probably my oldest friend and I’m not willing to lose him over something stupid.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re taking advantage of him just because he’s giving you attention. He deserves better than that.” And with that, he stood up and walked away. You were a little taken aback. Fred had been icy toward you, but you never imagined he would confront you with such spite. You knew he was just being protective but it still hurt. You thought you were friends and the fact that he didn’t trust you with George hurt a little. It was hard knowing you couldn’t please Fred, and you doubted George would ever date someone who Fred didn’t approve of. At that moment, you considered letting Fred in on the plan, but you weren’t sure that would do any good.

You felt utterly confused. Your heart was telling you one thing while your head was in complete disagreement.  

                                                             X

George saw you make a quick exit and he knew he had messed up. He acted on impulse instead of thinking through the situation and now things were different. You may have said things were okay, but actions speak louder than words. The worst part was he didn’t even know what he should say to you. Instinctually, he wanted to follow you back to the common room where you were likely lounging. But he hadn’t the faintest idea of what he could say to remedy the situation. The worst part was everyone was now gossiping about you and approaching him for details. After one too many brush offs, he decided to leave and go for a walk to the astronomy tower. This was his spot to think and get away from everything and he knew he would be alone there.

He was confused on multiple levels. After kissing you, he was rendered speechless. The spark was everything he imagined it would be, but he wasn’t sure that feeling went both ways. You seemed so calm after everything, almost like it didn’t phase you at all. He felt stupid for thinking you might actually have feelings for him. 

But what to do next? Should he cut things off now before things changed too much? At this point, your friendship would be changing in one way or another. He could use the easy out clause to end things before the effects set in. The only downside was it seemed a little too late to pull this move. You had kissed and everyone had seen it. They assumed you were together now and it would be tough to explain a sudden separation. 

He went back and forth with both ideas and eventually decided he wouldn’t make any decisions before talking with you. You were definitely thinking a lot of things too and he didn’t want to assume he saw your side of things. 

George felt nervous walking back to the common room, as he figured you would be there, waiting for him so you could talk. You stepped into the common room and found his theory was partially correct. You were curled up by the fireplace with a book resting on your chest, sound asleep. He didn’t feel the need to wake you and normally he would’ve carried you to bed, but something about that didn’t feel right considering how you had left things. Instead, he gathered a blanket from his bed and laid it on top of you. Then he extinguished the fire that was burning and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead. 

                                                           X

 You woke up and found that you had fallen asleep on the sofa in the common room. You wish you could say this was a rare occurrence but it happened a little too often. You loved spending time in the common room by the fire where there were always a few people moving through. You spent a few nights up late reading on the couch or pulling all nighters doing homework and many times you fell asleep. The surprising thing was that there was a quilt draped over you on this particular morning. A quilt you recognized to be homemade and “Stitched with Love” by Molly Weasley. You had a similar one when you were a child and you knew this particular quilt belonged to George. you folded the quilt as you gathered the courage to approach George. You weren’t sure how he felt after last night but it seemed that you weren’t so emotional since you had the night to sleep on it. Before approaching his room, you thought about where you stood regarding this situation. You admitted to yourself that you wanted to pursue a relationship with George. But you weren’t going to. And you didn’t need Roger back, but this deal wasn’t solely for you. George was doing this for Angelina, and you didn’t want to break things off and ruin his chances with her. 

You carried the blanket in your arms and softly knocked on the door of his dormitory. The door opened shortly after and you found a bed-headed Weasley in the doorframe a moment later. A shirtless bed-headed Weasley at that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to return this,” you said to George. A blush crept up your face as you tried to avoid looking at his bare torso.

“Oh no, it’s fine. Do you want to come in?”

“Eh, is Fred asleep?”

“No, he left for breakfast already. Please, come in. I actually wanted to talk with you after last night.”

“Oh. Okay,” you followed his recommendation and made your way into the room that was a slight mess. “Sorry to barge in on you like this,” you said as you took in his current appearance. Seeing George shirtless was making things more difficult. 

“No, you’re fine,” he said as he pulled on a sweater.  “So, about what happened last night…”

“George, you don’t have to explain it to me. I know it was just part of the role you were playing and that it didn’t mean anything. Don’t sweat it.” You were trying to convince yourself this was the truth, but you didn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

His face looked a little…disappointed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was gonna say. It meant nothing,” he trailed off.

“We do need to prepare for the aftermath of it all. Rumors and gossip as well as acting coupley. I hope you’re okay with public displays of affection because I really think we need to sell this”

“Just the usual then? Hand holding, arm around the shoulders, hugging…?”

“That and more. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. Now I’m going to get changed and we can head down to breakfast as a couple.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. You scurried out of his room and walked back into your dormitory for a change in attire. The interaction went better than expected. You were worried things were going to be awkward but things seemed to return to normal pretty quickly. Now you just had to keep your feelings under control as you pretended to be a couple. No big deal.

You prepared for breakfast as quickly as you could and found George waiting for you in the common room. “Ready boyfriend?” you winked at him. He smirked back and put his arm around your shoulder. “About as ready as I’ll ever be.”

[newsatsix1986]

The prop department behind this show are incredible.

Not only did they truly make the magazine which Helen and Dale were doing the photo shoot for - the Australian Woman’s Day, they properly wrote an article to go along with the photos.

It took a lot of very close deciphering, but I was able to write down as much of it as I could. I hope it makes sense to you all. It’s adorable and romantic - discussing the first kiss, their Russell Street worries, Helen and Val becoming close that day, and how they knew that they found the other person quite attractive.

Happy reading, friends xoxo

Page One:

Title: Glamour, News and Romance - The Golden Couple of News.

There’s romance in the News At Six newsroom, and everyone is watching.

They are the celebrity couple that has set Melbourne ablaze.

From their luminous first kiss that eclipsed a comet, to chasing the Chamberlains in steamy Darwin, to their love galvanising in the wake of the Russell Street Bombing - Dale Jennings and Helen Norville’s romance has blossomed before our eyes.

We sat down with the golden couple of news to get an exclusive sneak peek into the lovers’ lives.

Every day as Melburnians wake, Dale is already in the newsroom; focused, primed, combing through the latest stories.

As a part of the hard-working News At Six team, he never quite knows what his day will look like, where he might be sent at the drop of the hat.

The one constant of his working life? When Helen Norville strides into his office, his heart skips a beat.

“It’s always an event when she arrives,” Dale tells me, laughing. “Heads turn, every time.”

We’re sitting on spacious lounges on the hot new cafe in Fitzroy, Arrondissement X. Sitting beside him is Helen, carelessly gorgeous in a mauve and teal blouse with puffed sleeves and a pleated grey skirt. She slaps Dale’s arm, bashful, then nuzzles closer to him.

“It’s true!” Dale continues. “There’s a magnetism about her. An energy. She just lights up the room.”

But for Helen, it’s Dale who has that certain je ne sais quoi. And whatever it is, it’s ruined her for other men.

Dale’s unlike any other guy I know,” she says. “He’s warm and kind, but also driven and strong. And he’s a great listener. When you’re talking to him, you feel like you’re the only person in the world.”

The story is legendary now. Dale was Helen’s surprise date for Geoff Walters’ 60th birthday party the night Halley’s Comet passed overhead.

We were denied a good look at the comet, but partygoers received an even more spectacular view.

It was on that balmy February night; rubbing shoulders with Melbourne’s elite amidst a once-in-a-lifetime celestial event, that Dale kissed Helen for the very first time.

“It was a surprise, to be honest,” Helen professes. “I’d invited Dale as a dear colleague, but when he kissed me something just clicked. It felt totally right.”

And despite how picture perfect the moment was - with half of Melbourne’s press just a few faces away - Dale insists it was completely unplanned.

“It was just a spur of the moment thing,” he tells me. “I mean, I didn’t think Helen would go for a guy like me, but she looked so stunning. I thought, “Come on mate, what are you waiting for?”

So began the romance that has captured the hearts of viewers across the nation.

But what events led to that magical moment? To date, Dale and Helen have been cagey about the origins of their romance...until now.

“It really started when Dale was assigned to produce me.” Helen explains. “It’s no secret that I’ve gone through a few producers in my time, blokes who didn’t take me seriously as a journalist. I knew right away that Dale was different. He wanted to work with me, not over me.”

“Helen had really bold ideas for special reports,” Dale adds. “I was drawn to her passion like a moth to a very glamorous flame.”

Page Two

These reports have now become a Monday evening staple - and one of the biggest ratings draw for News At Six.

It’s clear Melbourne can’t get enough of the romantically-entangled reporting duo - a dynamic that crystallised when Dale reporter live from a scorched Russell Street on 27th March.

Viewers the state over shared with Helen’s fear for Dale’s life, and her relief she felt when she saw he’d made it out unscathed.

“It was one of the most stressful days of my life.” Helen says, clutching Dale’s hand in hers. “Not only did we experience an awful attack on our city, there were hours where I didn’t know if Dale was safe. My feelings for him crystallised in that moment. I knew I loved him. Deeply.”

“Absolutely. Same for me,” Dale echoes. He grows solemn and his eyes glaze over - clearly reliving the horrific events of that day. In a strange way, it was the perfect moment for them to say “I love you.” It was the first time Helen met Dale’s mother! “We’d arranged a dinner for that night!” Helen says. “Of course, that got put aside. But she and I grew close that day.”

So how is our newly-minted media royality adjusting to life in the spotlight?

“It’s been strange getting used to it all.” Dale admits. “I get stopped in the street now - not as much as Helen, but blokes recognise me at the pub.”

But for the most part, it’s business as usual.

“We work hard, we’re passionate about what we do, and we’re passionate about each other,” Helen says.

I can’t help but ask Helen, “Is Dale as passionate in private as he is in public?”

She giggles, as Dale goes red. “Let’s just say we have no issues in that department,” she says, winking. It’s enough to bring the temperature in this cool French bistro up a few degrees!

As Helen steals a kiss from her blushing beau, I’m reminded of the couple’s enduring appeal. Who wouldn’t invite them into their living room of the evening?

While Geoff Walters has announced his imminent return to the desk, his recent health scare has shown the veteran newsreader is not as invincible as he previously seemed. I ask Dale and Helen if we might see them together on the desk, someday soon.

“Oh, we haven’t even moved in together yet!” Helen laughs. “Right now, we’re focusing on supporting each other to do good work and keep Melbourne informed.”

The couple are admirably humble about their ambitions. All the while as I wave them goodbye and watch them walk down Brunswick Street arm in arm, it’s hard not to think of them as the future of news; young, smart, totally in love, and with the whole world at their feet.”

Episode Six - Chernobyl (and a sweet magazine article)

Edited to include the full story! Thank you @dontwanderoff for linking me to the full article on Twitter!

[hit-em-with-the-four]

Lifetime of Waiting *Chapter 2*

AN: I am so so sorry that this is late! I promised it such a long time ago and I am finishing my semester of school and just started a new job so I’ve been less than a person! Here we go! I’m slowly getting the swing of things!! Without further a do, enjoy!

——————————

Chapter 2

Tessa wasn’t really sure what made her run from her soulmates. Maybe it was her commitment issues after a lifetime of being alone or maybe it was the alcohol. Either way she couldn’t bring herself to face them and so there she was outside of the club waiting for her uber without her coat. The cold New York air was not kind to her and made her regret her decision of leaving the club but it was far too late to turn back. She had made some lame excuse to Anise saying that she was going home to work on some case studies when in reality she just had to leave. As her Uber pulls up she sees the two men, her two men emerge from the club looking worried. She makes eye contact with one of them before getting into her uber and shutting the door.

“Good evening miss, how are you?” The older gentleman asks beginning the ten minute drive back to her apartment.

“I’m great thank you, how are you?” She politely makes conversation with the man until he drops her off at her apartment. She graciously thanks him and exits heading to the front door of her apartment building.

Once Tessa is back in her apartment, she is peeling off her heels and slipping out of her dress before drawing a bath. She cannot seem to get her mind of her two soulmates and how she never got their names. ‘Great, I meet the two im destined to be with and run away before I learn their names.’ She groans internally giving herself grief. From beside the tub her phone is going off.

Anise: I know that excuse was bullshit, now what really happened?

Tessa rolls her eyes and begins to think of an answer that her friend would think was acceptable.

Tessa: I got a notification regarding an assignment I needed to finish. Sorry!

Anise: This conversation isn’t over... btw not coming home! Found my soulmate and spending time with him. Sorry!

Tessa: I’m so happy for you love! We’ll talk when you get home. I want details of course.

Anise: Of course! I’ll let you know periodically how I am and where I am okay? Isabella and Ryan are going to his for the night so you’re alone.

Tessa: Amazing, thank you! Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do ;)

Tessa shuts her phone off and rests it on the toilet seat lid.

At the club Mat and Tito are both confused as they watch their soulmate run out of there.

“What the fuck just happened?” Mat asks and Tito shakes his head.

“I think we just met our soulmate and let her run away from us.” Tito says running a hand over his face. He had been waiting for his soulmate for 80 years now and let her slip through his fingers. His family was one of the families in which all of them had been cursed with a long life expectancy, Anthony had been the luckiest and was stuck at 18 until the year 2015. Then he had begun to age naturally as a way to find his soulmate. He didn’t understand it fully but his mother had always told him growing up that the world worked in weird ways. Mat and his family were under the same issue. They all must find their soulmates before they can start to age again and Mat was the last one to find his soulmate. His little sister had found hers just a few years prior in her final year of high school, leaving Mat the only Barzal without a soulmate.

“How does this work though? Are we both her soulmate?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess. But how can someone have two?”
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing by the way we both reacted she is telling the truth.”

“I mean, yeah there is no reason why she would lie.”
“Where the fuck did she go by the way? We need to go after her?”

“Fuck, yeah. She probably left, we should see if we can stop her.” The two men exit the club and are looking around frantically to see if they can find the girl that they’ve been looking for. Anthony sees her out of the corner of his eye and makes brief eye contact before she gets into a car and speeds off.

“She just left.” He huffs watching the car fade from his eye sight.

“What do you mean she just left?” Mat asks.

“She got in an Uber and left. What else do you want me to say?”

“Fuck, so we’ll never see her again.”

“Good chance.” The pair head back into the bar feeling disjointed and defeated.

“What’s got you guys so upset?” Anders asks holding onto a new woman who neither man had seen before.

“We let our soulmate get away.” Mat says slumping down into the booth.

“Why?”

“She ran.” Anthony says with a shrug.

“We don’t even know her name. We were stupid and didn’t ask her name.” Mat runs a hand through his hair and watches the young woman furiously type on her phone. Then it clicks for him, “fuck, you’re the girl that was dancing with her.”

“What was her name?” Anthony asks leaning across the table towards her. She giggles leaning into Anders’ shoulder.

“I don’t know if that’s for me to say boys.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean obviously Tessa didn’t want to tell you?” Anise smiles letting the boys know her name.

“Why didn’t she want to tell us?... wait her name is Tessa?” Anthony asks catching on to her slip.

“Yep....” Anise nods.

“And you are?”

“I’m Anise, pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Anthony and this is Mat.”

“Nice to meet you Anise.” Mat says politely. Anders pulls her impossibly closer to his side and she places her hand on his knee.

“So will you tell us where she is.”

“Nope, she’ll find you when the time is right. I’m not interfering in fate.” Anise shrugs and the two boys look at her incredulously.

“Why not?!”

“Because fate was telling her to run, I am not going to interfere with her gut. You’ll meet again when you meet again.”

“Well we need to be with her.” Mat huffs gripping at his hair.

“Well, if she doesn’t want you to know where she is, then suck it up. She will come when she wants.” Both boys leave it at that and go to get another beer.

A few weeks go by before Tessa runs into the boys again. She had just finished her shift at the gentleman’s club and was on her way home when she spotted the two men in suits walking out of a classy high rise. She ducks her head and continues to walk right by, hoping that the two boys don’t notice her. She’s almost of their sight when she’s pulled into a hard chest.

“You think you can walk past us and not have us notice you?” A deep, raspy voice growls in her ear. She’s bites back a moan letting her eyes close.

“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She stutters.

“I think you do know baby girl.”

“Nope, not me.” Tessa sighs her head tossing back. If anyone saw her they would think she was crazy. But thankfully it was still dark out being 6 am in winter.

Mat drags his fingers up her arm towards her neck and she lets out a soft whimper showing her neck more. ‘Why is my body reacting this way. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.’ She thinks.

“I know you wanna be choked but I don’t think it’s appropriate in public my dear Tessa.” He smirks, lips close to Tessa’s ear.

“How do you know my name?” She asks gulping.

“Anise.” Tessa rolls her eyes and turns around to face him.

“Of course, well you found me. Hi, now what?” She asks pulling her jacket tighter around her body. Both Anthony and Mat were taken back by her reaction. Tessa notices their faces and sighs, “Sorry, I just got done work and I need to do school work and well, I am a little tired.” She yawns rubbing her eyes and the two boys feel their hearts melting.

“It’s okay, she’s the soulmate of our coworker so the night we met she met him and told us your name.” Anthony says from where he was leaning against the building. Tessa gets a good look at the two men and bite her lip. ‘Fuck they look so good.’

“So, since you know my name can I know yours?” She asks.

“I am Mat or Mathew but normally Mat.”

“And I am Anthony, Tito or Beau. Whichever you prefer.”

“Beau, like handsome in French?” Anthony chuckles shaking his head.

“Kind of, but it’s because of my last name. Beauvillier,” Tessa makes a mental note to search him up later.

“It’s nice to meet you both finally, I am able to put a name to your faces. Now to avoid anymore issues I am going to need both of your numbers.” She shrugs.

“Why don’t we drive you home and get you some coffee so you can do your work. At least right now we can get out of the cold.” Mat says smiling at his soulmate.

“I’d like that but I need someone to hold my hands, they’re both super cold.” Tessa whines exaggeratedly and both boys are quick to grab her hands. Hers feel so tiny in comparison to Mat and Anthony’s.

Once they’re in the car, a nice SUV Tessa thanks the boys.

“Here, give me your phones. I’ll add my number.” She smiles.

“Amazing, thank you.” Tessa cheekily puts her name in Mat’s phone as ‘Babygirl 💕’ and just ‘Tessa🌸’ in Anthony’s as she wants him to decide her nickname.

“Thanks.” Anthony smiles leaning over to kiss her head without a second though. Tessa feels a warm feeling spread through her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He stutters.

“I liked it, don’t worry hun.”