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benjaminthewolf · 2 years ago

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The Story Of P.O.V.: Serving The Innocent (Remastered) (Private Steve Pred)

It has officially been over a year since I first published on this blog. I feel as though I owe it to you all to remaster the first season, but especially the very first stories. After the remaster is done, I do have one other huge project I need to get done before I get back to season two, but rest assured it will come eventually so please hold onto your patience.

And yes I’m tagging both Tankmaw and Monday Night Munchin because ultimately, The Story Of P.O.V. Pertains to both fandoms.

Also for those of you who know the story so far and are wondering why I didn’t add on a few tags, it’s because I wanna remain spoiler free for right now, so yeah.

****

The short, sporadic, wavering breaths that are vigorously echoing within your ears as the shaky, staccatic melody to your throbbing baseline heartbeat, nearly drowns out entirely the roaring cacophony of tumultuousness and ravaging constantly compounding in upon itself within the active battlefield around you as you, swiftly, yet utterly laboriously, thrust your legs forwards across the lines, (barely geometrically recognizable lines, mind you), of the advancing Tankman army, doing your literally most possible best considering your current state, to dodge the naturally, and perhaps simply unavoidably, wholly oblivious, relatively gigantic, unaware boots of the ensuing stampede of expeditious, fixated soldiers above your miniscule form, and somehow entirely suppress your body’s devastatingly overwhelming, instinctive howls to stop.

You know you must keep moving. You know you must keep breathing. You know you must endure the onslaught before you. You knew this must be the truth, it was just fact; and if you ended up failing in these tasks, failing to meet these obligations, living to return to your recovering hometown once again was a nigh impossibility.

Your sudden, intrusive thoughts reminding you about home begin to draw up many stinging, salty tears into the wells of your eyes. You make an attempt to force your arm to move up and wipe them off as you continue to swing your bottom half back and forth, however, this attempt is only half-successful, and leaves plenty of drops rougely strewn as a result.

Finally, however, upon the watery cleansing of your shudders, you are able to spot something in the distance that may just allow for your plight to come to completion. There is an exceedingly ragged pile of debris close ahead that some of the Tankmen soldiers are using as cover to safely fire behind, although in being forced to peer just a inch around its bends in order to aim, they are not completely out of the line of counterfire. You pay them zero mind, (though mainly due to your current sheer mental incapacity to do so, rather than on account of any conscious decision), as you expend one, final burst around the corner.

Safe at last within a comparative sense, as no place is ever truly safe within a warzone, upon the moment your body has successfully made it behind, you instantly collapse from sheer exhaustion and overexertion, but again not because of your free will. This, mere desperate wish, at long last, was no longer needed to be repressed. You understand it to be quite obvious, however, that your arrival will not go unnoticed.

“Hmmmm? What the-” Private Steve, the well-known best friend of the further well known and widely respected Tankman known as Sergeant John Captain, suddenly calls out as he cautiously bends over in order to pick up your limp and bedraggled form. “What the hell? Guys! There’s…a civilian here! How did that happen?” he quickly announces to the other soldiers with him before turning to speak directly to you. “Well I have absolutely no clue how you got here, but you look frankly exhausted! Just how far did you have to run? Why are you even here in the first place? Or- How are you even here in the first place? What town are you from? Why-” he begins to positively barrage you with questions, an absolute total of zero of which you are capable of answering, of course. Perhaps quite literally all that your body can do right now is simply lay still and wait for recovery, upon which you may be once again able to act. For right now, however, that option remains an impossibility.

In all honesty, though, you were just glad Steve had managed to realize you were a civilian and not affiliated in any way with the army your government put together in opposition to the Tankmen. Both sides had been committing some rather noteworthy atrocities throughout the course of the war, as was unfortunately to be expected, and if Steve had mistaken you for one the soldiers, he might not have taken as kindly to you as he was right now. Realizing as well at this point that due to your physical state, you are currently unable to answer his questions, Steve gives a sigh and stops asking them.

“Alright, alright. I get it. You need time to breathe. Forget everything I just said. You don’t have to answer any of it. I’m sure some of those questions might be a bit touchy anyway. Still though, when this is all over, I’d be very interested to hear your story.” he at last concedes with a few short nods.

You somewhat manage to give a weak smile in respect of how understanding Steve has been to you thus far, if just so he understood that you had been listening to him in any capacity at all.

This moment, however, was unfortunately not to last, as just a few seconds later, somebody screeched out: “INCOMING!”

Steve was only given but a couple of seconds to duck before a relatively huge explosion went off. Since he was therefore unable to properly secure you beforehand, you were, as such, left to practically fly out of his glove from the force, and stick an exceedingly scathing landing containing further forward momentum against the rough, grainy floor, causing the particles to grind against your left leg, tearing off an abundant amount of skin as a result. Thankfully, the skin on your side and arm were considerably more lucky and managed to hold onto a lot more. You are only able to hear some faint screaming noises, and Steve’s echoing footsteps as he desperately cries out for a medic. Your completely disoriented and positively overwhelmed brain is utterly unable to comprehend anything as you feel something resembling someone inspecting your leg before...putting something on it? And then...wrapping something around it? You’re not entirely sure due to the precarious state of your consciousness, that which you have been barely able to hold onto in the first place. You swear you can hear Steve crying out something along the lines of: “I’M SO SORRY! I COULDN'T HOLD ONTO YOU PROPERLY!” as your mind slowly returns from its current state of haziness. That being said, it still hurt a considerable amount. The painful throbbing makes you completely unable to lift up your head as Steve scoops you back up, mindful of your new bandages, in his hands.

“Hey! Hey, I’m not sure how much of that you heard back there, but oh…I really am sorry, okay?” he apologetically whimpers out. “The medic gave you some bandages, I think that’ll help. But we need to put you somewhere where you can’t get hurt again, and…I’m just not sure where the hell that could be in a place like this…there's just absolutely nowhere- where- I just- wait.” Steve is then silent for a few seconds. “I…... think I know. Oh god I hope I’m not just losing my mind here, but I think that……...” Steve begins nervously attempting to explain before his voice weakly trails off. “Look, I know it may sound like a weird idea, AND IT IS, BUT-” all of a sudden, sounds of close gunfire practically force Steve to shut up. A couple of perilous seconds go by. And then, just like that, you are immediately shoved into his maw.

“I KNOW! I KNOW!” he instantly begins to panic. “I SWEAR THOUGH, I WON’T HURT YOU! YOU’LL BE JUST FINE! I’LL RELEASE YOU WHEN WE’RE ALL SAFE, ALRIGHT?” he finishes his mumble-shouting the best he possibly can with you inside his maw.

Though you do indeed have a few moments of temporarily and instinctively freaking out, you are swiftly able to calm yourself down by reasoning that Steve’s current behavior towards you does indeed show he’s being serious here, when he tells you he won’t hurt you. That, and, what he’s alluding to does kind of seem to be a good place to go to be safe, so you ultimately decide to openly display to him trust by casually laying down flat on his large, white tongue.

The warm, slimy, saliva accumulating against the sides and underneath the slick muscle doesn’t bother you too much, and as your bandages are waterproof enough to where the sticky fluids can’t seep through, allowing your limbs to naturally relax and uncurl themselves into a somewhat stretched out position came naturally as a result. With your hands lying open and somewhat curved around the edges of the tongue you are left able to gently maneuver them underneath its form entirely, before gently pressing your head down into the surface as if it was a pillow, and sensually rubbing your face against the wetted surface upon your leisure. You knew, of course, that Steve would be unable to give any sort of response to this, whether in words or otherwise, due to being caught up in his duty, which ultimately, took precedence over basically everything else the man had prioritized. However, as the act of protecting the innocent was indeed a part of his duty, you still deeply wished to be able to give Steve at least some form of acknowledgement of just how his actions had aided you, and to this end you merely continue to lightly grasp upon the tongue, hoping desperately Steve understood what you were trying to tell him, until the muscle silently rises up into a downwards sloping position, a signal clear as day that Steve was telling you it was time. Again, though you had gotten Steve’s message, it would only be after this battle was quelled that you would know if he had gotten yours.

Keeping the question nicely tucked in the back of your mind for the time being, you simply allow Steve to do his thing as his tongue, gently as it can, pushes you to the back of his maw via gravity, making you slowly and carefully slide downwards towards his gaping, blackened throat. You do your very best to not move around as you are cleanly inserted into the gullet, lest you risk bumping against anything sensitive such as the uvula, and therefore force Steve via his instincts to spit you all the way back out. Steve finally manages to swallow, and some sort of echoing, squishy sound effect reverberates around in your ears.

The goopy, jet black muscles of the esophagus begin to push you on down towards the stomach as you finally heave out a sigh. Feeling the powerful walls around you constantly expanding and contracting in order to shove you further down, your mind begins to meander just a little, eventually to the point where you can take note of the diligent booming of a heartbeat pounding around you. This to you, meant that you were rather close to your destination, and would soon be able to detect the growling and rumbling noises of the stomach. As you continue to be squelched further down, deeper and deeper into Private Steve’s body, this prediction was, of course, finally to come to fruition.

You do your very best to push down the rising instinctive fear of being burned alive by the stomach acid as you are visually introduced to, and soon thereafter gently squeezed through the lower esophageal sphincter. Much to your reassurance upon the oncoming splash landing, the goopy black liquids sloshing their ways about inside the churning tummy don’t seem to hurt you at all, thus solidifying the truth in Steve’s prior statement of not hurting you, and fully solidifying your trust in him as a result.

Heaving out one gigantic sigh of relief you slowly begin to nestle yourself against Steve’s cushiony, white stomach walls and, for the first time in what feels like eternity since all this warfare began, are finally, truly relaxed. The warmth and aura of secureness within the gurgling, shifting stomach have already begun to slightly soothe your headache, and release tension in your cramped leg muscles, as well as the pain in your injured left leg. You begin to wish desperately that you were able to thank Steve, however because he is on an extremely noisy battlefield, where hearing verbal cues may mean the difference between life and death, you are all safely tucked away in his tummy, and you had already given him a decidedly non-verbal cue of your gratitude all the way back in his maw, you therefore decide it would be best for all parties if you did so after the danger has passed. You then attempt to fall asleep, but even now, all of the craziness that has happened today, and just in this year in general, simply overcrowds your mind with too many thoughts, memories, and emotions for you to be able to properly sleep, so instead, you opt to try and deconstruct all of this turmoil within the safe and soothing environment that was Steve’s soft, heated stomach, and listen to its low gurgling and groaning, as well as his baseline heartbeat for the duration of the battle, instead of having to listen to more gunfire.

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tormie-tormie-chopper · 7 months ago

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Hey, I'm Tormie!

You can also call me Tor. Whichever. I'm an artist! I also write.

I intend to post a variety of different things for One Piece -- ship art, general/non-ship art, fluff, memes and shitposts, sfw, nsfw, whump, gore/body horror, blorbo appreciation, and so on -- so hopefully there'll be something here for everyone! I may also post things for other fandoms or for original characters, but I have a separate blog for ocs so I probably won't post too much of that here. I will always try to tag my posts and artwork accurately, especially when it comes to potentially triggering subjects. I have a sideblog specifically for reblogs @grand-line-tormie and an account for ocs/personal art and writing @tormentum-ab-intra.

Do not repost any of my artwork or use it for AI. Reblogs, however, are welcome and greatly appreciated!

Here there be freaks, and here freaks are welcome. Let's be weird and fucked up and into weird and fucked up things together <3 (This should go without saying but I'm gonna say it anyway: Me writing about, talking about, or drawing something does not mean I endorse it in real life. Cool? Cool 😂) My blog is not intended for minors.

My pronouns are it/its. I won't smite you if you use he/him for me, but it's not really my preference lol. However, both gender neutral and masculine gendered terms are welcome! Feminine gendered terms are also fine but better saved for silly or joking contexts.

Bigotry, hate speech, and so on are NOT welcome. TERFS are not welcome. I'm not interested in starting or engaging in discourse, so racists, homophobes, transphobes, bigots, zionists, and the like will be blocked expeditiously. Like just be chill and I'll be chill back.

Commissions: open! you can find my info post for them here. You can also find my Ko-fi page here!

Look below the cut for askbox info and info on my tagging system!

Some common general tags I'll be using: -#tor draws for anything with my own artwork in it -#tor thinks for original posts just talking and sharing my thoughts, whether fandom or unrelated. -#tor answers for answered asks. -#tor speaks for announcements. -I will usually tag fandoms where applicable, characters in the post, ships in the post, and any other relevant aspects.

Some common CW tags to look out for or block according to need: -#nsft for explicitly nsfw posts and artwork, or for posts with links to explicitly nsfw fics or artwork (because I expect tumblr won't let me post certain things and I may have to share links to those things instead) -#suggestive for posts and artwork that are risque or mildly nsfw in nature but don't describe or depict anything explicit. somewhat hit or miss whether i actually use this one ngl -#nsfwhump for posts and artwork that are nsfw and depict noncon -#gore for all posts and artwork with excessive amounts of blood or graphic depictions of severe injuries -#cartoon gore for posts and artwork with excessive amounts of blood or depictions of severe injury that are described or drawn in a cartoonish way -#body horror for posts and artwork with body horror, particularly when depicted in intense or grotesque ways. I won't be using this tag for the canon-typical body horror that's often seen in One Piece -- for example, Luffy's rubber powers or Buggy's chop-chop powers -- unless I am specifically talking about or drawing them in ways intended to invoke disgust, discomfort, or horror, with the main focus of the post or image being on the body horror in question. -#blood for posts and artwork with excessive amounts of blood in them. I probably won't use this tag for posts that only have small amounts of blood in them unless the blood is somehow the focus or part of the focus. -Additional tags for relevant triggering subjects will be added when applicable.

Askbox rules: -Just don't send me bigoted shit and we're most likely good 👍🏾 Asks and anons containing hate or bigotry will just be deleted. -Don't ask me to write or draw anything suggestive or nsfw about characters who are minors. -I will do my best to answer asks and anons quickly! But if I don't get to it right away, I'm not ignoring you, I'm probably just busy.

I will try to make sure my artwork has image descriptions in the alt text. If I forget to add an ID somewhere and you'd like me to add one, please let me know! I'll either edit my original post or add a description in a reblog.

#tor speaks #pinned intro #one piece

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kookiessugababy · 3 years ago

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Euphoria (Kim Taehyung) // 18+ nsfw!!

Warnings 🚨- daddy kink (minimal) //pet names// out of relationship//hickies//begging// teasing//slut shaming.

-> Scenario: a muffled phone call leads to Taehyung knocking on your door- who is soon to find his dream to come true.

Hope you enjoy <3

*****************************************************

It must have been 2 in the morning when you got the call. A low voice rasping in your ear, erupting from the speaker amongst the darkness of your bedroom. Your silk sheets were warm as you panicked in fear of trouble, hoping that Taehyung had not somehow managed to get himself hurt or something of the sort. “Hello? Tae is everything okay?” you questioned in concern, your voice groggy with sleep as your heart began to pick up its pace as the silence continued. “Y/N… I’m fine don’t worry I just-“ he cut himself off with as sigh, and the feedback of shuffling and discomfort played in your ears. “Taehyung, I’m here for you. Talk to me” you purr, pulling the phone from your face as the shuffling continued. He sounded in a state of breathlessness and displeasure, a slight hum vibrating your ear as he began. “May I come over? I need you…” he mumbled, barely audible as his voice dropped to a low whisper. Continuing in confusion, you sat up against the headboard, folding your knees to your chest as you frowned in misunderstanding. “Tae-tae has something happened? Have you fallen out with the boys again?” you probed, concerned that he was alone and upset. He’d slept over a few times at your place in the past few weeks as tension was high in their apartment as the bands new single was due for release, however problems had occurred with their company and the deliverance date. Your initial thought was that they had further postponed the public announcements and that the 7 had taken stresses out upon one another- however you were met with disagreement as groaned through the speaker. “No, y/n. i need you” emphasising his words to deliver their suggestive meaning. Discomposed, you shifted from your covers, you hovered by your bedside table as you threw strewn clothes into drawers, the other hand holding the mobile. There was a further second of silence as you rushed to clean your floor to present an order of cleanliness as you nodded mindlessly, grasping the situation. “Oh- me? I mean, you’re welcome around if-“ and with that, the beeping of the phone delivered the end of the call- abruptly concluding your dumbfounded expression.

Your stomach felt uneasy as you sat in waiting, your shirt hanging off your neck as your fingertips fondled with the hem. The sudden nature of the call has left you shaken enough, but the expeditious nature of his arrival startled you. Mind racing, you pictured his face- the soft hair and piercing eyes in which you watched for hours. You had known Tae for some time now, ever since your cousin Namjoon had been made leader of a world famous group. He introduced you almost immediately, knowing you would get along with them all in a similar way he did. However, the unease between the two of you had recently grown after an event the boys had invited you to, in which you had attended as Tae’s guest. He’d held you by his side most of the night, dancing with you and holding your drinks as you mingled with other attendees. You assumed he had been set out with the caring intent by Joon, and thought nothing of it- but now you wondered wether it was his actions in control.

You were unable to concentrate as your doorbell chimed, indicating his arrival- your legs slightly shaking as you anticipated what was next. Hastily you made your way to the porch, unlocking the bolts as your palms grew sticky with anxiety. The rain had caught him, wrapping him in damp as he stood with dripping hair infront of you. His joggers were loose and baggy but highlighted his thighs as he stepped through the door, his white shirt opaque from the downpour. Evident confidence radiating from him the second he made his way through the frame, the dull lighting shadowing his toned torso through his shirt. You stared at him, unsure how to behave as he advanced towards you, the handle locking behind as he pushed it from your reach. “Taehyung..” you whispered, his dripping hand soaking your cheek as he cupped your face, smirking lightly as you pushed yourself into his comfort. “I had a dream, y/n.” he hushed, before sensually tracing to your ear, kissing your neck lightly. “You were on your knees begging for daddy’s cock, baby” he whispered, growling slightly as your heart skipping at his words. Your fingers tingled in a state of disbelief, and you could feel yourself accommodating his kisses as he made his way to your chin. Dipping your head slightly, you pushed your lips against his, hungrily kissing still damp skin as he entangled his arms around your back. They moved to your shoulders as he continued deeper into the kiss, pulling you closer as you whined slightly at the wildness of it all. You felt yourself growing weaker as pushed you to the wall, his hands caressing your breasts as he watched you whine under his touch. You felt yourself growing wet as he watched you, whining slightly as his hand felt for your heat. He lifted the bottom of your shirt up slightly- the only bit of clothing you were wearing. “Oh babygirl, you little slut… you’re not even wearing underwear for me” he rasped, his long fingers extending out over your slit. He collected your juices before teasing your clit, the chill of his fingers sending shivers up your spine causing you to push against the wall. With light circles, he played with your clit, bending slightly to suck your breasts as he did so- his eyes never leaving yours as your neck arched against the stone. You moaned lightly as he took you in his mouth, drawing sweet patterns of bliss across your heat.

You could feel your stomach twisting as he teased your hole, pushing a single finger. Blushing at the noises of arousal your pussy made, he sniggered as you whined for more. He watched you in awe as you clenched your eyes tight, lips parted in a speechless daze- your moans filling the room. Suddenly, his mouth left you, returning back to his towering stance. Wandering eyes caught a glimpse of his buldge, his joggers stretching under the tension. “Get on your knees for me kitten.” he ordered, pushing your shoulders lightly as he slid you down the wall, your thighs finally pressing against your calf’s as you positioned yourself comfortably by his cock. Without a word or a question, you untangled the messy knot at his hips, pulling down his underwear with the pants. His cock was red and desperate, the tip swollen and dripping with his precum. Innocently, you looked up at him with wide eyes, your small hands grasping his shaft as he watched down on your, wrapping his fingers in ribbons of hair. “Suck my cock, babygirl. Just as good as you did in my dream. Can you do that for daddy?” he patiently asked, his tone soft but assertive. You nodded lightly as you kitten licked his tip, cleaning the mess of his arousal and letting it fall to your chin. He groaned at the sight of you, your mouth taking him in as he thrusted forward at the alleviation of tension- your warm mouth meddling his large cock. Picking up your pace, you ran your hand up and down his cock twisting your hand as you did so, your mouth following the action as he repeatedly hit the back of your throat. Burning lungs pushed you further, gagging and chocking on his length as he pulled your hair tighter, low groans and struggled mobs erupting from his plump lips. His cock was swollen in your mouth, pulsating at your speed as saliva hopelessly fell from your mouth onto your shirt. With watering eyes you glanced up at him as he held your head in place, hitting your throat again and again. His moans grew has he clenched you harder, fistfuls of hair pulling you closer and closer. Without warning, he came in your mouth- the warm liquid coating your tongue. He watched you swallow, wincing slightly at the sour taste- smiling down at you. “Are you okay kitten?” He questioned with care, stroking your face softly as your rose to his height. You nodded, cleaning your face with your arm- eyes still streaming.

Swiftly, he pushed you up against the wall again, this time at a raised height. Your crotch was pushing against his waist he kissed you, juices slick on his pale complexion as the thickness of the air radiating desperation. His cock grew hard again as he smothered your neck in hickies, nibbling and biting gently- marking your velvet skin. Breathless and needy, you bucked your hips forward greedily, whining for attention to your heat as arousal dripped down your thighs. “Tae- please I need you in me” you pleaded, sick of the drawn out teasing- causing him to raise an eyebrow in amusement. “No. Who do you need, kitten?” “I- you daddy. I need you daddy please” And with that, following a groan of anticipation, he adjusted his cock to your mid thigh before harshly thrusting into you, the fragile body he held hitting the wall. You shuddered as he filled you up, your walls taking him in despairingly. His pace was fast, and your legs wrapped around his waist to give him permission to go further. He moaned into your mouth as your walls tightened around him, your eyes rolling back as he reached your g spot. “Ther-there” you moaned, pulling at his neck needing, whining as he bounced you against his cock. Repeating the movements precisely, he shifted to hit the spot you needed, groaning as his sweat dripped to your chest. “Fuck kitten you feel so so good. Cum for me” he demanded, his cock twitching for the second time in minutes. Grinding your hips with a sense of urgency, the need to release flooded over you. Knotted strands of hair found themselves stuck to your face and your breasts were pressed against his chest-the slick of his sweat covering your arms. In that moment, you could only focus on his struggling expression; eyes squeezing shut as you came around his cock, the movement of him thrusting in and out of you becoming sensationless as you watched him groan in time to your whines. “Fuck, y/n!” He cried, pulling out to mess your thighs with his warm spill for the second time.

Both of you were coated in a light rind of sweat, your legs coated in both of your arousal. He kissed you softly, placing you back on the floor as he stepped back. Grabbing his shirt from the carpet and sinking to his knees, he gently wiped you clean- pecking them in return. Softened eyes paced your figure, a smile growing upon his face- fingers wrapping around your soft hands. “Why don’t we get you to bed, y/n baby? I’ll try not to wake you again.” He joked, rolling your eyes in return to his remark- “but I wouldn’t mind” you teased, giggling as he brung you closer. “Next time we do this, it’ll be under a different circumstance… I promise” he grinned, mumbling into your hair. A new warmth filled you as he tugged you to his chest, exhaustion replacing the euphoria.

It must have been 4 in the morning when you made it to bed. A low breath hummed in your ear, erupting from the softened lips of the boy next to you amongst the darkness of your bedroom.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years ago

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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.