#so i thought why not ACTUALLY make beau into a meow meow

[sid-noxious]

everyone needs to start making their other ocs into cats

[twistedtummies2]

A Feline Valentine (Che’NyaXReader; Stuffing)

HUZZAH! It took me writing well into the night last night, but I was able to complete my Valentine’s Day Special after all! Hope you all enjoy! :D

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Six o’ clock. Tea Time. You really wondered (with a sigh) how Riddle got along so well with your boyfriend at times like this. Granted, you loved the fluffy-eared gremlin to bits, but if there was one thing he never seemed to care about… …Well…actually…he cared about very little. It was probably part of why Riddle didn’t dislike him for going to Royal Sword instead of Night Raven; the Cheshire Cat was by no means a hero…but he was also by no means a villain. And he was certainly by no means punctual. You paced around the table you had set up in the Tea Garden of Heartslabyul. In the light of the golden afternoon, you paused to look around. You had to admit, you’d always found Heartslabyul to be one of the most beautiful dorms; if the historic Rose Garden owned by the Queen of Hearts was even half as beautiful as the one Riddle Rosehearts and his pack maintained, it still would have been perfectly enchanting. It was an unseasonably warm afternoon, but with a light breeze that whistled through and cooled it pleasantly to a perfect temperature. The heart-shaped topiary sculptures and vibrant red roses that poked from the great green hedge rows were the perfect natural decoration for a day like today…only helped by the special scarlet paper lanterns that had been strung up, in place of the usual blue and yellow. The paper was patterned with images of hearts. Similarly, instead of the black, red, and white bunting that was usually set out, you had purposefully selected pink and purple flag streamers, which lightly fluttered and flapped in the delicate wind. You frowned as you looked back to the table; you were actually starting to feel a little worried. You’d taken a lot of time to prepare this occasion. Riddle had even allowed you to make use of his personal table; he claimed it was due to Rule 214, but he never explained WHAT Rule 214 was, so you didn’t know why that was. You checked your cell phone to see the time; it was now a couple minutes past six, you still found no sign of hide nor hair from him. You bit your lip as you stuffed your phone back in your pocket; had something happened to him? Even on a day like today, when everyone was spending time with their special someone (presuming they had one), Night Raven had plenty of troublemakers out and about…and while your beau was no pushover, especially for the “pompous, pampered little princes” who stayed in the Dorms of Royal Sword Academy, you didn’t want to risk he’d run into beasts somewhat fiercer than himself. He only had eight lives left, after all. “Come on, kitten,” you mumbled to yourself, tapping your foot with impatient nervousness. “Where are you…?” “Twaaaas brillig, and the slithy Toves did gyre and gimble in the waaabe. All mimzyyyy were the Borogoves, and the Mome Raths outgraaabe!”

You knew that strange, up-and-down, melodic voice, naturally. You knew that song, too, and therefore knew who was singing it. You glanced about curiously, but you saw nothing; this wasn’t surprising, however. Your boyfriend from Night Raven’s rival college had a habit of being non-corporeal. “Che’Nya?” you called out, then smirked. “You might as well show yourself, that ‘ghostly singing’ thing isn’t as impressive as you think it is.” A pouting meow was heard, from seemingly everywhere at all. “I thought you liked my singing. In fact, I thought you said it was The Cat’s Meow!” You blinked dully. “Those puns are going to get you in trouble, you know that, don’t you?” you droned. “I suppose it ‘hiss’ possible.” “That one,” you snapped out, lifting a finger in emphasis. “That one was ‘Meowsy.’” “Awwww, my little bunny is making cat puns now, too!” crooned the voice of the Cheshire neko. “I’m so proud!” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I learned from the best,” you drawled, waving a hand dismissively. “Now come on out!” A pause. No response. “I’m waiting!” you called out, louder. Right on cue, you felt a tap on your right shoulder. You turned…and spotted nothing. Then came a tap on your left shoulder. You rolled your eyes, turned again…and once more spotted nothing. Then you started to turn around…and found yourself almost eyeball-to-eyeball with two large, glowing, golden eyes. “BOO!” “GYAH!” You yelped and jumped about six inches into the air, catching yourself on a nearby chair as you stared up at the disembodied head floating before you, a few feet above the surface of an empty table. The head giggled in a high-pitched, half-hysterical way; an unhinged but not necessarily dangerous sort of laugh, followed by a teasing grin filled with many large, sharp white teeth. “Gotcha! Nya!” sing-songed the fair-skinned face of your beau, his purple ears twitching where they sprouted from under his equally purple-haired head. A faint jingle came from the ears, courtesy of the little brass piercings shaped like signposts in each. You blinked…then frowned, blushing a bit at being caught off guard so easily. “Very funny,” you grumbled. “I thought it was!” chirruped the Cheshire Cat-Boy, his head spinning in place a full three-hundred-sixty degrees. You quivered. “How do you do that?” you muttered. “A good meow-gician never reveals his secrets!” “A GOOD magician,” you responded dryly, “Would be on time and not make such terrible jokes.” “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not one of those!” “…Yet you won’t reveal your secrets anyway.” “Nya-ope!” “…Your jokes just get worse from here, don’t they?” Your boyfriend giggled and rolled his eyes, then his head swooped forward. You went stiff as he sniffed at your hair, and his head began to orbit around your own. It was an unsettling feeling, and you squirmed a bit, blushing as he meowed and leaned close, the lone head nuzzling your cheek as you heard the big kitty purr. “Awww…no need to be so mean, my little bun-bun,” he crooned…then licked your cheek and rumbled as he added in a whisper: “It makes you taste less sweet, you know.” You blushed bright red, and he giggled more. “Awww, bunny-bun is so cuuute when they’re flustered!” he mewed, and once again came around to your front. “Don’t worry, my little rabbit! This big kitty won’t gobble you up! Today, anyway.” “That’s a shame…” “Hm? Nya? What was that?” “Nothing, nothing,” you said, shaking your head, then tilted it as you added: “Can you make your whole self visible? It’s…weird chatting with a talking head.” You had a feeling your significant other shrugged, but since you couldn’t see his shoulders at that point, you weren’t sure. In any event, slowly but surely, the physical body of Alchemi Alchemivich Pinka – alias, Che’Nya the Cheshire Cat – finally began to fade into view. He looked the same as he always did: dressed in a white dress shirt that was several sizes two big, under which he wore a pink-and-purple-striped t-shirt. A ring with the image of a smiling cat’s head was on one of his fingers, each of which ended in short-but-sharp claws, painted the same shade of purple as his hair. A matching purple belt held up the blue jeans he wore; it bore a silver buckle, and the words “Can You Stand on Your Head?” stitched into it with silver thread. All over the legs of his blue jeans were various colored patches, resembling mushrooms, trees, and Mome Raths – strange creatures that inhabited the realm of the Queen of Hearts. Purple boots with black laces were on his feet; they were decorated in gold chains with pendants that spelled the phrases “This Way” and “That Way.” Your boyfriend smiled and blinked his huge yellow eyes. His two canine teeth stuck out from his mouth, and with his large eyes and the way he cocked his head, you couldn’t help but smile; he really did look so much like a big, curious kitten, bushy purple-and-pink-striped tail swishing behind him and all. “Can I ask you a question, Bunny?” he mewed, as he hopped down and sat the wrong way on a chair. “Sure,” you nodded. “Oh, good!” grinned Che’Nya. A pause. “…So?” “So what?” “What was it?” “What was what?” “The question!” “What question?” “The one you just asked!” “I asked a question?” “Yes, you asked if you could ask a question!” “Well, then I already asked you a question, didn’t I? In fact, I think I just asked…” He tilted his head and counted on his fingers. “…Six! A half dozen questions! Now, isn’t that great? OOH! That one makes lucky number seven!” “But…that…that doesn’t…!” Che’Nya grinned and placed his head in his hands, his chin against the back of the chair, eyes half-lidded. Try me, bunny, his smile seemed to say. Go ahead. You blinked…then grumbled and reached out, booping him on the nose. Che’Nya’s smile fell. He blinked…then sneezed, and pouted as he covered his nose. “Heeeey, no booping!” he meowed, childishly. “Then stop talking in circles.” “I don’t talk in circles,” he smirked. “I talk in squares, triangles, occasionally hexagons, and even a few parallelograms, but NEVER circles!” “You’re impossible.” “Hardly,” Che’Nya chuckled. “I do believe in Six Impossible Things before breakfast each morning, though…then I usually go out and eat them.” He winked and licked his lips as he added: “For instance…Thing Number Five this morning was believing I had the best little human in the world as my S-O. Now, doesn’t that seem impossible?” You blinked. “…I can’t tell if that was a compliment or not.” “Then I have done my job,” Che’Nya said. So saying, the Cheshire Cat got up from the chair and hugged you close. You froze up, not expecting the sudden show of affection…but when he started nuzzling your neck and purring, you smiled and returned the hug. “You may be impossible…but you’re MY kind of impossible,” you whispered. “Awww…bunnyyyyy, you’ll make me blush,” mumbled Che’Nya. “Then I’ll have done MY job,” you teased. Che’Nya giggled. “Touche! Nya!” he sang out, then pulled back and grinned at you excitedly, tail twitching as he clapped his hands. “Oh! Oh! I almost forgot! I wanna show you a trick! Can I, can I? Huh?” You chuckled and smiled; his exuberance never ceased to make you grin almost as widely as he could. Almost. Aside from maybe the Leech Twins, no one could smile as wide as the Cheshire Cat…and certainly no one could do so and NOT make it absolutely mortifying to behold. “Sure,” you said, and sat down on a chair, figuring the big event could wait till after he’d gotten it out of his system. “Go ahead, kitty.” Che’Nya let out a “squee” of delight, then made a show of clearing his throat. He then adopted a dramatic pose and waggled his fingers as he tugged on his baggy white sleeves. “Nothing up my sleeves!” he declared…then reached out with one hand. “But something back here…” You smirked and rolled your eyes as he reached behind your ear; this was an old trick, you knew how it- “Boop!” You let out a mousey squeak as suddenly something bopped your nose…then blinked as you realized, instead of a coin, he had pulled what appeared to be a golden pocket watch, tied to a matching gold chain, and had gently tapped your nose with it. Che’Nya grinned as he then lowered the watch into your waiting hands. You blinked as you looked at the gold watch; the outside was etched with your name, and when you flipped it open, the ticking watch hands inside were designed to look like Che’Nya himself (as the minute hand), with you as the hour hand…chasing him with a newspaper. You blinked…then looked up. The catboy’s eyes were very wide, and he was fidgeting anxiously. “Nya? Do you like it?” he meowed, sounding more nervous than you felt he wanted to show. “I…I do! It’s…it’s lovely!” you chuckled, and chastised yourself for using a word like “lovely,” before going on: “How did you get it? Did you…make it?” “Nope. But I have a friend who actually makes clocks and watches. He’s a bunny – actual bunny, not just cute-bunny-like-human, the way you are.” He took a moment to smirk at your blush before going on. “He gave me a discount, so I asked him to make that for me, custom. Oh! And there’s more!” Che’Nya added, and reached into the pocket of his jeans, sticking out his tongue as he focused on trying to fish something out. It took him several tries; he pulled out a yo-yo, a bag of jelly beans, a teacup, and a kitchen sink (you were NOT going to ask), before finally finding what he was looking for. “Aha! Purr-fect!” he exclaimed, and smiled as he handed over a large paper card. It looked like an oversized Ace of Hearts. Curious, you took the card, and realized it opened up; a greeting card. You looked at the words written inside; they were written over an image of a huge, cat-toothed smile. You read them aloud. “Keep Smiling, Bunny. Happy Valentine’s Day.” You looked up; Che’Nya’s eyes were very, very wide again, once again looking anxious and eager. You smiled and stood on tip-toe, kissing him on the nose. He mewed and you chuckled. “Thanks, kitty. I appreciate it a lot.” “Hey, it’s Valentine’s Day,” Che’Nya smiled back, swishing his tail happily as his ears twitched again, once again making the piercings tingle like little bells. “I would be a pretty meow-sy boyfriend if I didn’t get you a gift and a card.” “Now you’re just stealing MY puns, that’s plagiarism.” “I think you mean…” Che’Nya paused…then blinked…and tilted his head. He mouthed a few silent nothings to himself…then shrugged. “Never mind. I can’t think of a pun with that. There’s glory for you!” You crinkled your nose, and remarked, “I don’t know what you mean by glory.” “Of course you don’t, till I tell you,” Che’Nya sniffed, and explained: “When I said ‘glory,’ I meant ‘there’s a tough puzzle for you.’” “…Um…glory doesn’t mean ‘a tough puzzle’ though.” “When I choose a word,” Che’Nya responded, sagely, “It means precisely what I choose it to mean. Neither more nor less.” “Yeah, but the question is whether or not you can make a word mean-” You were stopped by Che’Nya placing a finger on your lips. His smile was indulgent, as if he were talking to a child. “The question,” he said, gently, “Is which is to be the Master. That’s all.” You were much too puzzled to respond to that properly…so you instead reached out and gave the mischievous kitten a tickling poke in the tummy. Che’Nya mewed and giggled backing up and placing his hands on his belly to protect it. “H-Hey! No! No tickling!” he meowed, blushing a bit. You smirked triumphantly…but your triumph was short lived, as the moment was broken by a deep, gurgling rumble from the belly you had just poked. GRRROOORRRLLLLBG… “Oooh,” murmured Che’Nya, wincing a bit and giving a more strained sort of smile as he scratched the back of his head with one hand, the other clutching his belly more tightly. “H-Heh…I think you woke up my tummy. I, um…I might have skipped lunch today…” “Awww, poor kitty,” you cooed, teasingly, then grinned back. “Well, thankfully, I asked you over here because I have my own Valentine’s Day gift for you.” Che’Nya’s ears perked up and he smiled wider, yellow eyes brightening. “Nya? You did? How purr-fectly wonderful of you, bunny-bun!” he sang, clapping his hands together in joy, and looking around. “Where is it? What is it? Show me, show me!” A twinkle was in your eye that might have made the Cheshire Cat proud as you stepped aside and gestured to the long table under a tree in the Tea Garden. Che’Nya stepped forward to inspect the table…then stopped in place, eyes widening all the more at what he saw. You chuckled as you looked to the fruits of your labors: with help from Trey, you’d gotten quite the little feast prepared. Half of it was store bought, the other half homemade. Given the spirit of Valentine’s Day, it was a feast that was sugar saturated: the only things not involving a great deal of saccharine sweetness were a basket of chicken tenders from Che’Nya’s favorite restaurant, and a Salmon Filet that you had gotten from the Mostro Lounge. Of course, Che’Nya’s love of tuna was renowned (right on par with Grim’s taste for it), so you had to have tuna at the table…but in the spirit of the holiday, you’d taken a different route than usual. Trey and yourself had looked up a recipe for CANDIED tuna: strips of the fish cured with salt, pepper, and maple sugar. From that point on, everything was sugary: a box of gourmet chocolates and a vase of chocolate roses were obvious must-haves for a Valentine’s meal. Vanilla cupcakes with purple hearts made in icing were also prepared, set beside a box of marshmallow bluebirds. A carton of Neopolitan ice cream was on the opposite side of the cupcakes…and last, but certainly not least, the favorite food of EVERYONE in Heartslabyul, and second only to fish and poultry for Che’Nya’s tastes: strawberry tarts, crisply cooked, and so fresh they were still steaming. You looked back to Che’Nya; his expression reminded you of a meme of a kitten looking at Christmas Tree lights for the first time, and you couldn’t keep the soft “d’awww” that escaped from you. “Like what you see?” you checked. Che’Nya blinked…then looked back at you. “You do know all that sugar is going to go to my hips, right?” “You say that as if it would discourage me.” Che’Nya smirked, and this time HE tapped YOUR nose. “Naughty-naughty, funny bunny,” he sing-songed. You blushed and grumbled to yourself as you brushed his hand away. Che’Nya sniggered, then made a show of cracking his knuckles and neck as he strutted towards the table, big bushy tail whisking about behind him. “Well…you know what they say: time to take the tiger by the horns.” You started to agree…then paused when you actually digested (no pun intended) that saying. “Wait…that’s not-” “ITADAKIMASU!” meowed Che’Nya, as he hopped into his seat at the table…and without so much as another word, grabbed hold of the cupcakes and began to eat. Ten cupcakes had been placed upon a plate, organized into a heart shape. The Cheshire Neko snatched up one of them and, without even the slightest ado (nor any sense of decorum) stuffed the entire cupcake into his mouth. NOMPH! You watched, wide-eyed and very still, as Che’Nya’s cheeks bulged with the cupcake inside his mouth; his eyes closed as he chewed slowly – GRUM, GRUM, GRUM – tail swishing, the look on his face like that of a very happy kitten as he purred softly at the flavor…then – GRULPH! – swallowed the cupcake whole. He licked some crumbs off his cheeks…then, his jaws opened wide again – wider than many would think should be physically possible – fangs parting as he began to shovel the remaining nine cupcakes into his mouth at record-breaking speed. CHOMPH-NOMPH-GROMPH-HROMPH…! You slowly began to approach the table, watching with something approaching awe as the half-cat tore through the pastries like famine was fast approaching. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen your kitty eat so much and so fast, and you knew it was only the beginning…but that never made it any less phenomenal. Between himself and some in Savanaclaw, you wondered if it was just a cat thing to be a living bottomless pit…though while some in that dorm preferred tons and tons of meat, Che’Nya was more well-known for his sweet tooth, when it came to his appetite. The cupcakes had soon been guzzled; Che’Nya next turned his attention to the chocolate roses, there were three in the vase. He plucked one free, and began to untie the wrapping around the chocolate bulb in thin strips… “Hmmm…my bunny loves me…he hates me not…he loves me…he hates me not…” You smiled as you pulled up a seat beside him and kissed the hand holding the rose playfully. “Either one works,” you shrugged cheerily. Che’Nya let out a giggle, and finished unwrapping the rose…before popping the chocolate into his mouth. He smirked around his closed mouth, winked…and then – SCHLUPK! – pulled the rose free. Only the plastic stem, wrapped in green paper, came out…he had managed to ingest the entire piece of chocolate. Che’Nya rumbled and moaned around a closed mouth; you watched as his right cheek bulged, and then his left, as he swirled the chocolate around, letting it melt in his mouth for a few moments…then, he swallowed faintly – GLURK – and you watched as his throat rippled every so slightly, Adam’s Apple rising and falling subtly, as he let the melted chocolate trickle down his throat. “Mmmmm,” he murmured, as he plucked a second rose up. “Roses are red, violets are blue, chocolate is tasty…” He paused…then you let out an “eep!” of surprise as he leaned forward and licked the very tip of your nose. “…And so are yooouuu,” he sang, with a big, teasing smile. You blushed and half-heartedly swiped at his ears. He cackled and dodged, then chomped down on the second rose. You heard his teeth saw through the chocolate before he swallowed, then treated the third and final rose in much the same manner. This was evidently enough sweetness for the catboy, at least for the start, because the next item he selected was the salmon filet. As he pulled it closer, you reached to helpfully grab a couple of plastic utensils from a box you’d provided… …Then stopped short as the cat tilted his head back, and lifted the entire filet up over his head. His jaws fell wide open, tongue rolling out like a red carpet…before he dropped the pinkish-red fish meat in and slurped it up noisily before swallowing it all in one bite. SCHLUGULP! You watched, eyes tracing the bulge the salmon made in the Cheshire Cat’s throat as it slithered down his esophagus, before dropping past his chest, and vanishing into the belly behind his shirt. The shirt fit very loosely, so you couldn’t tell what it was like behind the garment…which only made you feel a bit disappointed… …No matter. Very soon, that would be changing. “Ahhhhh…tasty fishy!” chirruped Che’Nya, and blinked his big yellow eyes at you, one ear flicking as he asked: “Did you get anything to drink?” You nodded and held up a finger in a “one moment” gesture, before reaching under the table; you pulled out three large bottles, each containing three liters of cherry soda. Che’Nya clapped his knuckles together his grin widening and eyes all but sparkling at the sight. “Oh, YAY! My favorite flavor! Thank you, bunny-bun!” “Don’t mention it,” you chuckled, and cracked open the bottle for him. The playful feline made grabby-hands at you as you offered him the bottle, which he wasted no time in placing to his lips as he began to chug down the bubbling, fizzing, dark red liquid within. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… With every swallow Che’Nya took, his neck bobbed and pulsed, the super-sweet, tangy soda pop gushing down his gullet almost by the cup-full. You admitted it was slightly surprising that cherry was Che’Nya’s favorite soft drink; based on color, you would have presumed he’d prefer grape. But then again, the Cheshire Cat was nothing if not frequently surprising. As the soda sloshed down his throat, your eye fell towards the feline’s abdomen again; you could actually hear the fruity beverage dropping down, cascading like a waterfall into his burbling belly. Finally, you saw a sight that made your heart sing and brought pinkness to your cheeks once more: that baggy, ill-fitting white shirt began to became more taut and stretched around the middle of the Cheshire Cat’s lean, lithe midsection. It was finally starting to press out… …And it must have been by quite an amount, because as soon as he finished off the bottle, pulling it away with a somewhat dramatic “Pah!” and tossing it away (one of you would pick it up later; littering was against Rule Thirty-One), he grunted and reached down, adjusting his belt and loosening his waistband, sighing as his stomach no doubt sagged from the weight within… …If that knowledge didn’t make you blush enough, what happened next as the pressure was released slightly did. “BRRRRRUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRP!” the Cheshire catboy burped, surprisingly long and loud for such a slippery creature. He blinked, seemingly surprised at the volume and power of the eruption, one ear flicking…then laughed childishly. “Hoo hoo hoo! I think my tummy’s getting a little bit bubbly,” he cooed, then smirked at you and reached out, taking one of your wrists. “Hmmm…c’mere…feel.” Even if you had wanted to resist, the firm grasp on your wrist denied you that privilege. So, instead, you scooted closer…and blushed more than ever as Che’Nya managed to lift up the veritable blanket of his oversized white shirt…revealing to you the pale, silky skin of his normally concave belly, now swollen by a few solid inches till it looked like he had swallowed a small melon or some sort of ball. The Cheshire Cat meowed softly as he guided your hand to his belly…and then released your wrist as your fingertips, and then your palm, rested over the curve of his midsection. His belly was textured softer than velvet, warm as a heated pillow. When you pressed upon it, it gave ever so slightly under your pressure. Che’Nya hiccuped and then stifled another burp, catching it in his cheeks… “HIC-MMMRRRRRLLLLPH…phoosh.” …Before teasingly blowing the gas right in your face. You coughed and blushed, tears springing to your eyes as Che’Nya smirked lazily at you. “…C-Cat Breath,” you gasped out. “You know you love it,” cooed Che’Nya, licking his fangs and winking…then giggled as he lifted one arm. “Hey, check this out…” He waggled his fingers…and, before your very eyes, the hand that had been there wasn’t there any more. There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke; one second the hand was there, the next, it wasn’t. “Nothing up my sleeves again!” he sang out. You rolled your eyes…then yelped, momentarily allowing your hand to leave his belly (which you instantly regretted, perhaps more than you cared to admit aloud), as the hand reappeared, floating in mid-air, and holding the basket of chicken strips. You looked from the hand and the basket, and back up to Che’Nya…who, with his one remaining hand, gave you the biggest, widest “kitty eyes” he could…and then pointed into his mouth. “Feed me?” he meowed, innocently. …You couldn’t decide if that was cute, attractive, or both. You decided on both, and nodded with a wide smile, taking the basket from Che’Nya’s…disembodied…floating…hand (yeah, having the Cheshire Cat for a boyfriend was WEIRD sometimes), and placed it in your lap as you adjusted your chair. Che’Nya “recalled” his hand (it vanished from thin air and reappeared back in place at the end of his arm), and happily wiggled as he reclined slightly in the well-padded throne Riddle usually occupied. You dimly imagined Riddle complaining about cat shedding all over his cushions, and couldn’t help but snicker as you lifted one of the crispy, perfectly seasoned tenders from the basket. “Open wide,” you said. Che’Nya was only too happy to oblige, closing his eyes and letting his mouth fall open expectantly. You could have sworn a puff of steam came from his salivating jaws as he did so…you opted not to comment on it, for numerous reasons. You blushed as you had a very good look at the deep red, saliva-dripping interior of his maw, framed by pointed white fangs, including those two elongated canines that had a tendency to stick out in an (adorable) overbite…fangs that were primed to cut and rip into anything that got too close and tasted delicious… You quivered, suddenly imagining yourself being dangled over that wide maw like a mouse…and shook your head quickly to clear it before holding the chicken strip over his mouth. Your lips quirked as you saw his nose twitch in a decidedly catlike way, ears pricking up happily as he no doubt smelled the spices and seasonings used in the batter to bread the tenders. Without any further ceremony, you let the chicken tender drop…and Che’Nya quickly scarfed it up in three fast bites, like a cat snarfing down a very fat rodent. He rumbled pleasantly, sighing through his nose as he chewed, teeth piercing into the juicy white meat…before – GRULP! – swallowing it down in one bite. Your eyes followed the lump in Che’Nya’s throat as it vanished…and you let out a soft squeak as the cat let out a low, rumbling burp, once again right in your face. “Uuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrp…hoo-hoo, excuse me…more, please!” You didn’t have to be told twice. One by one, you fed the boy with the catlike ears all of the chicken tenders. There were eight in total; the first four, Che’Nya chewed up happily…but with the last rest, he didn’t seem to chew at all, wolfing them down (ironically for a big cat) and swallowing them whole. Hot, moist breath pelted your face, steadily smelling more and more strong as you added food to the organic cauldron deep within the catboy’s core. As you watched him scarf down the last chicken strip, and put away the empty basket, the purple-and-pink tail of the felid hybrid swirled out and swept up the heart-shaped box of gourmet chocolates you had chosen, and carefully desposited it into your hands. You smiled and opened the box. “Any you would like first?” you said, offering to show him the contents…but Che’Nya shook his head, looking quite excited. “Surprise me!” he meowed happily. You chuckled and looked into the box briefly, trying to decide…before plucking up the chocolate of choice: a simple mini-bar drizzled with a spiral of white chocolate. Che’Nya stuck out his tongue, and you blushed as you placed the chocolate onto the tongue directly…then yelped, barely having time to pull your fingers away before the tongue retracted and the sharp teeth snapped shut. Che’Nya chewed a few times and purred. “Mmmmm,” he murmured, and swallowed before commenting: “GULP…orange crème! Yummy! More, more!” You smiled wider, and, just as you had with the chicken strips, began to feed the big kitty one chocolate at a time. The orange crème was followed by one of raspberry crème, which was then followed up by caramel, then nougat, then a chocolate truffle… GLUPP-GLUPP-GLUPP… The purple-and-pink-haired catboy happily swallowed each chocolate, purring pleasantly as each morsel was placed inside his mouth and sent rolling down his neck and into his stomach, melting into cream and pooling in his tummy, which gurgled in a happy, high-pitched sort of way as the sugary, milky confections plopped half-solid into the pit. Every so often, his slippery, sloppy, somewhat sandpapery tongue would brush against your fingers, slurping over your hands…the first couple of times, this MIGHT have been accidental…but after the third slurp, you caught the hungry gleam in his golden eyes, and knew it wasn’t. There were two dozen chocolates in the box; two of each kind available. Ironically, the last chocolate you gave to Che’Nya turned out to be identical to the first: an orange crème-filled morsel drizzled with white chocolate in a spiral shape. You reached out to place it in his open maw… NOMPH! “YEH?!” You yelped in surprise and instinctively tried to pull back…and blushed when a playful growl and firm resistance met your efforts. You felt as if steam might be pouring from your cheeks, as Che’Nya had somehow managed to wrap his mouth around your entire hand. You felt his tongue slurp over your fingers as he suckled on you with a deep rumble; you barely even noticed the moment when the chocolate was flicked away and sent tumbling down his throat to join the rest in his guts. Finally, Che’Nya released you – after what was probably less than a minute, but felt like more than an hour – and you absent-mindedly wiped your hand clean with a napkin. Che’Nya licked and smacked his lips, before letting out a short, sharp sort of belch. “BRUPK! Mph…yum-meow!” he declared, snickering at his horrible pun. You blinked slowly. “…Are you referring to the chocolate, or me?” you asked, dryly. Che’Nya grinned and winked. “Yes.” God dang this teasing cat. You grumbled and tried to bap him on the nose…only to swat at thin air as his head disappeared from his shoulders. Just as you registered this anomaly, you nearly jumped a foot in the air as a loud, abrasive noise blasted like an airhorn in your ears from behind you. “BOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAP!” “GAH! D-Don’t…don’t DO that!” You panted, startled and blushing all at once. The belly of the headless body of Che’Nya bounced as his disembodied head spun around in mid-air, laughing good-naturedly. “Sorry, sorry!” he chuckled out, and winked teasingly. “No need to LOSE YOUR HEAD about things.” You grumbled and huffed, trying to show him you were ABSOLUTELY mad at him, yes, totally. He blinked, and meowed…then his floating head nuzzled your shoulder. To anyone else, this would have been surreal and disturbing. To you…at this point, it was just Sunday. “Will you feed me those bluebirds if I say I’m sorry?” he mewed, glancing towards the marshmallow birds and giving you his most innocent eyes. You blinked at him…then smiled, and scratched him behind his ears. He purred happily, a cheery smile on his face at the attention. “Sure,” you said, in a warm, simple voice. There was a pause. “Well?” “Nya?” Che’Nya murmured opening his eyes as his head pulled away and floated just out of reach. “Well what?” “Say you’re sorry!” “I already did!” he grinned happily. Your mouth opened and closed a few times…but you finally just gave up, throwing your hands up and half-sighing, half-chuckling before reaching for the marshmallow birds. Che’Nya smirked triumphantly, and his head flipped clear over yours before landing back in its proper place atop his neck, fingers drumming over his already bloated tummy, which inched out further and further… You opened the box of candy bluebirds; there were only a half dozen of them in total. Feeling rather playful yourself now, you mouthed the word “Catch” to your half-cat boyfriend, and lifted one of the marshmallow treats, preparing to throw it. Che’Nya nodded, catching onto what you were thinking instantly, and opened his mouth. You thus tossed the six birds – once again, one by one – into his mouth.

Che’Nya did not close his mouth nor swallow till all six of the marshmallow goodies were dropped into his craw…then, and only then, did he shut his jaws tight. He chewed three times, grinding away at the squishy, spongy stuff…and then swallowed it all in one go. GLULP! A thick, round, distention formed in Che’Nya’s neck. He grunted and thumped his chest as it passed behind his ribcage…then sighed and patted his belly, which let out a deep “glort” as the food was dropped into place. “Oof…nya…I think I need to wash that one down,” he mumbled, and grabbed hold of the second bottle of cherry soda himself. He cracked it open, paused to allow the pressurized air to settle…then unscrewed the cap and rapidly began to swill down all three liters. His Adam’s Apple bobbed and bounced as if suspended in tumultuous water… GLUG, GLUG, GLUG…! You listened to the sound of the soda pouring down into the Cheshire hybrid’s belly. GLORSH, GLORSH, GLORSH…your mind began to wander, conjuring up a mental picture of what it must have been like inside that swollen stomach, as it continued to expand, creaking against the waistband of the cat’s trousers, the pulled-up shirt draped over its upper curve. Dark…swampy…slimy…smelly…the walls ever moving, always working to stir up the contents of the beast-man’s bowels…you imagined being squeezed in-between them, the soda pouring down over your head as the stomach growled hungrily in your ears… …The rumbling belch from your boyfriend snapped you out of it. “GWWWUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRP! Ahhhh…you chose the BEST soda, bunny!” Alchemi smiled widely, tail flipping happily behind him as he grunted and once again adjusted his belt, groaning with relief as his gut was allowed more breathing room. “Ooof…I’m feeling kinda heavy now…mmmmrrrrroooowwwwl…” “I’m not surprised,” you mumbled, eying that engorged stomach, which was now bigger than a basketball, tightly compressed behind the waistband of the kitty-boy’s patched pants. Your fingers twitched and fidgeted, but you somehow restrained yourself, watching as Che’Nya rubbed over his belly himself, claws lightly brushing against his sensitive, supple skin… “Oooooh…soooo full already,” he half-moaned, half-purred. “I can feel it all getting sloshed and churned around in there…” He patted the side of his belly and hiccuped before sighing and going on. “HIC! Ohhhh…all that sugar’s making my tummy feel all hot and heavy, too…I might not have much money, but I’m gonna be a literal ‘fat cat’ when it’s all done, I know it…” “One can only hope.” “Nya?” “Nothing, nothing,” you said, shaking your head…then reached for the dish of candied tuna strips, holding it out with a hopeful smile. “Sure you don’t have room for more?” Che’Nya blinked; one of his ears flickered and he leaned close, innocently sniffing at the dish; his gut let out a powerful, NEEDY roar as the scent of maple and that wonderful fishy odor all cats seemed to like teased his tastebuds. He licked the very tips of his jagged teeth. “…Well…no, I don’t have any room,” he admitted. You turned your head down, a little disappointed…not only because you wanted to see your boyfriend even more stuffed than usual, but because you’d really been looking forward to him trying the tuna… …But your spirits were lifted when Che’Nya added, “But I think I can fit more in my belly. Always space for tasty fishies!” “But…you just said you don’t have any room.” “I don’t,” the Cat sniffed, somewhat snootily, and gestured about with his ring hand. “We are here in the great outdoors, and there are no rooms out here! MY room isn’t even at this CAMPUS, so therefore, I can’t have it. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t space…” He poked his belly with one finger; it wobbled. “…In. Here.” You squirmed a bit and let out a whimpery noise…which you immediately covered up with a cough. Che’Nya tilted his head, as if confused by your reaction…but you waved him off and simply offered the plate again. “Whatever…go ahead and dig in, you silly kitty.” “I can’t dig without a shovel; I’d get dirt under my claws!” pouted Che���Nya. You responded by giving his belly a light shove…which resulted in him grunting and burping crudely out the side of his mouth. “Mph…BWWWOOOORRRRRK! Heeey, not nice!” he huffed, brushing the burp aside. “Actually, that sounded VERY nice to me,” you muttered. Che’Nya’s face immediately became a smirk, and he playfully tousled your hair. You swatted at his hands with a half-hearted sneer, and he chuckled before finally beginning to eat the candied tuna, picking it up two strips at a time and dropping them into his wide open mouth. He growled, the caramelized coating on the fish creating a sweet-and-salty taste that ignited his tastebuds, making the feline’s golden eyes roll in his head as he crunched them up like pieces of bacon – MUNCH, MUNCH, MUNCH – before swallowing and chomping down on two more slices. There were eight pieces of candied tuna, just as there had been eight pieces of chicken. After four rounds, Che’Nya put the empty plate down on the table, and purred as he licked and sucked on the fingers of his other hand. “Mmmmm…sooooo tasty,” he crooned, and grinned widely at you. “One of the best things I’ve ever tasted! It’s purrrrrrr-fect! Can I have more of that? Pleeeaaase?” “Some other time,” you chuckled, smiling very wide at the exuberance of the kittenish imp, and pointed to the table. “There are still two more courses left.” Che’Nya nodded, and hummed thoughtfully, one hand scratching his chin, and the other scratching his “slorshing” belly as he tried to decide between the tarts and the carton of Neopolitan ice cream. “Hmmmm,” he murmured…then, seemingly out of nowhere, summoned a silver coin into his hand and looked to you. “Quick! Heads or tails?” “Uhhh…h-heads?” you exclaimed, taken off guard. Che’Nya flipped the coin and caught it again, checking it quickly. “Well?” He looked to you…smirked…and you blinked as his head AND his tail both disappeared. “That,” his disembodied voice answered, “Would be telling.” So saying, his tail suddenly reappeared, and tickled your nose. You sneezed and glared half-heartedly as his head returned with a laugh, and he reached for the ice cream, as well as a plastic spoon. He opened the carton, dropping the lid onto the table…then smirked at you as he scooped up a spoonful from the strawberry side of the carton. “Nya…THIS is ‘digging in,’ funny bunny,” he winked…and proceeded to shovel the ice cream at record-breaking speed into his mouth, arm practically a blur as he gobbled up the cool, creamy dessert dish… GLOMPH-GRULPH-NOMPH-MRULPH…! Globs of ice cream chased each other down the Cheshire Cat’s gullet as he guzzled it up as fast as he could; it was like his esophagus had become a cooled conveyor belt. Idly, you marveled at how he didn’t seem to get brain freeze from slurping it up so rapidly. Che’Nya alternated between the three flavors in a rhythmic pattern: strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, chocolate…he chowed down, lapping up the melted cream like a cat might lap up milk before continuing to virtually inhale the more solid stuff. He soon finished a quarter of the carton…then half…then two thirds… “Guh…oooof…fffaaahhhhaaaa…” Che’Nya panted, dropping the spoon into the empty carton, and then dropping that into the grass at his feet. He panted, clutching his belly with one hand as the ice cream sat heavily in his belly; his guts sounded like a processing vat at a factory, stirring and swirling the thick mush within, thickened by the sweet, cold cream he’d pumped down into the pit. “BLLLLUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUGLP!” he belted out, and sighed deeply. “Nyaaaaa…tummy’s sooooo – HIC-URP! – so gurgly…I feel – HIC! – so heavy…” You were red as a strawberry as you glanced between Che’Nya’s face and his belly. He seemed to know what you were thinking, as he looked to you with his widest, most innocent, most pleading “kitty eyes” and mewed sweetly. “Tummy rubs?” was all he said. That was all the invitation your twitching fingers needed, as you had to hold yourself back from lunging at his bloated gut. You reached towards his waistband; he rumbled curiously as you unfastened his belt, and then the button of his pants… ZZZRRRIIIP! BLORGSH! “NYYYYYYYYYYAAAAOOOOORRRRRRUUUUUUUUUEEEHHHUUURRRRRRRP! Ahhhhhh…sooooo GOOD…” Your eyes widened as Che’Nya’s belly poured out like a huge ball of dough into his lap, completely freed from restraints, surging forth from under the draped portion of his baggy white shirt. His navel was stretched into a tight ellipse, and you felt your heart pound faster in your chest as you looked upon the bloated mass of his middle. “…Eeee…eeeeeeeeeeeeee…” “Awwww…bunny liiiiikes?” Che’Nya breathed out, eyes half-lidded as he grinned at your expression and let out a giggle; his gut sloshed and jostled with his mirth. “C’mon, bunny-bunny…it’s nya-ot gonna rub itself…” Once again, you needed no further invitation. Your hands soon found their way to the warm, soft belly one of them had been pressed to earlier, and you began to tend to your boyfriend’s big, bulbous belly. Across the silken surface, your fingers caressed the softest, most tender portions of the belly of the beast-boy, and kneaded and massaged at the tenser areas. You let your hand wander to the side of the burgeoning belly, the size of a large medicine ball, and gave it a few hearty pats; each little slap made a satisfying thump, like smacking the sides of a ripened gourd. Che’Nya meowed and purred deeply; for several moments, he didn’t move or say a word, eyes closed as he just enjoyed the wonderful gut rubs you were giving him: a gift almost as good, if not better, than the bountiful, super-saccharine feast you had prepared. He lay limp and totally relaxed, crooning and meowing a few times as you scritched and scratched at the upper curve and the sides of his globular gut…being pampered was soooo good… …Then his nose twitched…and he opened one yellow eye. The glimmering golden iris smoldered like a dying candle as he eyed the last dish on the table. An arm draped over your shoulder, momentarily stopping you…and you watched as Che’Nya pointed with his other arm at the strawberry tarts. There were five of them arranged on the plate in a neat little array. He said nothing, but simply pointed into his open mouth, then poked his giant belly with one finger. You smiled, nodded, and paused to grab the plate. You placed it upon his gut…and with one hand gently rubbing back and forth over the center-part of his gastric globe, you used the other to feed him the tarts. The first tart was finished in just two bites…but after that, the cat ate more slowly. His teeth sank into the crispy, warm, buttery crust and pulled away the strawberry filling within with a growl as he chewed steadily before GULPing down huge mouthfuls…but the mouthfuls came with greater gaps between them. The feline breathed more heavily, even letting out little keening sounds as he went on: the second disappeared into his guts in another two bites, though more widely spaced out…but the third went down in three bites. The fourth went down in four…and, at last, the fifth and final tart was eaten in a number of bites that matched the pattern. Che’Nya licked his chops, lapping up some stray crumbs…then coughed and grimaced. “That…th-that last one was…a little dry,” he panted out, clearly finding it harder to breathe from the sheer weight in his bowels. You nodded and reached for the final bottle of soda, offering it to him. Che’Nya eyed it almost distrustfully, very much like a spoiled pet cat not sure what to make of a new brand of cat food…then shrugged and took the triple-liter, cracking it open and slugging it down as he had the two before. GLUG…GLUG…GLUG… The half-cat drank more slowly as he began to drain the final three-liter of strong-and-sweet cherry soda. You watched as it flooded down his gullet in waves. Unable to contain your flustered curiosity, you carefully lowered your head, and rested it upon the belly of the beast-man like it was your own pillow. The first thing that registered was the wonderful warmth of your kitty-cat’s body…then, you could hear the gurgles, louder than ever. The splashing noises as soda slushed down into bubbling mire, making it froth more than ever as the muscular contractions swished the fluid and sludge inside. You closed your eyes, and you could almost imagine those sounds surrounding you…the borborygmi a peculiar lullaby, making you feel as if you could melt away and forget your problems… …Not literally, of course. You were kinky, not suicidal. And besides, while Che’Nya may not have been the most heroic student of Royal Sword…the fact he chose that over Night Raven said something about his ethical viewpoints. With some, like Leona Kingscholar or Floyd Leech, you had no clue if their threats to devour and digest you were truly jokes or not. With Che’Nya, there was always that safety blanket: he really was just a big, fluffy kitten at heart. “Gruh!” grunted said fluffy kitten, as he polished off the last of the cherry soda…and you could actually hear the gases in his belly ROAR as it rumbled deeply before a HUGE eruption sounded off just above you. “BYYYUUUUUUUUHHHHHHUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLPK!” Che’Nya sighed deeply and let out a long, moaning meow before speaking: “That…was…a GOOD meal..mmmmmmmaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh…” You smiled and gave his bloated tummy a chaste kiss. He mewled and wiggled a bit under you, gut sloshing and bobbling more as a result. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, kitty-cat,” you said, and nuzzled against his belly lovingly. “Mmmm…I think I’m enjoying my own way right now…heh heh…” Che’Nya gave a lazy, languid smirk…and rested a hand over your head. He didn’t press down, didn’t exert any force at all…he just let it rest there. That was fine. You were in no hurry to move your head away from his pillowy, plumpened gut. “So…how do you feel?” you asked, tracing circles around his belly button. “Satisied?” Che’Nya growled deeply; you swore you could hear his toes curl in his boots. “I feel – HUUUURRRRP! – ohhhhh…I feel like I ate away one of my eight remaining lives…” He slurped over his lips and added with a low, bubbling belch: “Worth it.” You chuckled and moved your hand down towards the underside of his gut; the softest, warmest, most sensitive part of his belly. He gasped sharply…then sighed, melting at your touch as you carefully moved your hand with a feather-light sensitivity over that region. “Nyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa…so THAT’S why you’re my favorite human,” he mumbled out, slurringly. You sniggered and gave the underside the very softest of pats, biting your lip and pressing into it slightly, just to feel how very, very warm and tender it was. “I try,” you said, simply, and paused before adding: “It helps that you’re my favorite kitty.” “Well, I’m clever and adorable, so I better be.” You smirked, and responded by giving his gut a shake and saying: “Well, you’re not very humble.” “BUUUUURRRRRRP! Ahhhh…humble is not in a cat’s vocabulary,” Che’Nya responded with a shrug. “Or have you ever known a cat that didn’t show some level of vanity?” You felt this could not easily be denied, so you just decided to stick your finger in his navel and move it around in there to distract him. Che’Nya’s eyes fluttered closed and his tongue flopped from his jaws. He panted heavily, tail flopping limp as he relaxed all the more. “Ooooooooh…bunny? Have I ever told you you’re the Cat’s Meow?” “On many occasions,” you answered, choosing not to remind him he’d used that joke already, too. “Mmmm…well…telling you one more time won’t hurt,” Che’Nya murmured with another shrug, twining his fingers in your hair. You rolled your eyes with a loving smile. There was a pause. “…Thank you.” “Nya? For…mph…for what, my bunny?” “The pocket watch. And…and for just being you. Every greedy, confusing, fun, silly, wonderful thing that is you. I…sometimes feel like, since we’re from different schools, so I can’t see you as often as I like, you may not realize how much I-” The hand in your hair gently lifted your head…and the other hand placed a finger on your lips. Che’Nya smiled with a half-lidded, affectionate light in his eyes. “I realize, bunny. I realize,” he said, simply. Those were all the words you needed, and you gave him a peck on the cheek. He blushed and mewed before letting go of your hair and letting out a deep yawn. “Nya…I think I need a catnap…wake me up before it gets dark, so we can clean up. I don’t want Riddle to have a cow…or a horse…or any other farmyard animal. They’d make an awful mess…” You rolled your eyes, but said you would. “Rest easy, my kitty…and Happy Valentine’s Day.” Che’Nya smiled, but he didn’t say Happy Valentine’s Day back. His eyes had closed, and he had already fallen asleep…but the warmth in his smile, the way his arm tightened around you protectively and possessively, and the lustrous purr that thrummed through his core, said everything for him. You smiled just as warmly, then shook your head with amusement and closed your own eyes as you rested your head happily against his sugar-laden stomach once more. “Heh…asleep within seconds. I guess that’s a cat thing, too…”

 The End

[minister-for-femslash]

Here

Summary: After Jester tells the Nein what she saw while scrying, Yasha and Beau try to deal with how they feel about this latest revelation and find themselves leaning on each other in order to do so. 

Pairing: Beau/Yasha

Word Count: 2,646

Warnings: Spoilers up to and including Campaign 2 Episode 111

There's silence as Jester finishes telling them what she saw. Molly. Several looks pass between them, full of worry and concern, and maybe a hint of fear, but none of them speak, none of them know what to say.

Beau feels Yasha's grip tighten, her fingers squeezing so much that it hurts. There are obvious tears in Yasha's eyes and Beau makes a decision.

“We need a minute.” Beau turns and the two of them walk away from the rest of the Nein. Nobody tries to stop them and when they're far enough away, with the rain falling heavily down upon them, they reach for each other, holding each other tight.

They stay there for a while, slowly sinking further into the other's embrace, until eventually the rest of the Nein begin to talk, to make plans, their voices rising just enough to make Beau and Yasha pull back, and when Jester makes her way over to them a few moments later they've parted completely, a clear gap between them.

“Caleb thinks we should head back to Zadash, at least until we can figure out where Molly is or what he's doing. Are you okay with that?”

Beau waits, giving Yasha the chance to speak but when she says nothing, Beau nods her head. She takes Yasha's hand once again and the two of them follow Jester back to the rest of the group.

Caleb is already drawing the teleportation circle on the ground. He looks up at her, his eyes asking a thousand questions; questions that Beau doesn't have the answers for, at least not yet, so instead she glances Yasha and subtly shakes her head and Caleb quickly turns away, finishing the rest of the circle, and they all step through.

Caleb makes the mansion for them again. Yasha quickly heads to her room, her hand sliding away from Beau's, leaving her feeling empty and a little alone, but if Yasha needs some time then Beau can understand that and so she stands back, watching as Caleb and Veth show Yeza and Luc around, Luc's obvious excitement over everything, but especially the cats managing, somehow to bring a slight smile to Beau's lips.

“Honey, would you like to see our bedroom?” Veth asks Yeza, with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Beau decides that maybe it's time for her to go to bed as well and with a mutter of a word she floats upwards.

Caleb intercepts her before she can reach her door.

“Beauregard.”

“Yeah.”

“I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for pushing for us to -” he sighs and averts his gaze - “go and talk to Molly. I understand how upsetting his death was for you, for all of us, and in the moment I didn't see that what I was suggesting hurt you.”

“It's okay. It looks like it was a good thing we went.”

“I was hoping to apologize to Yasha as well, but she's already gone to bed. Maybe I'll wait and talk to her tomorrow.”

“That's probably a good idea. 'Night Caleb.”

“Goodnight Beau.”

He begins to walk away, only to stop. He keeps his back to her as he stares down through the towers, focusing on Jester, Fjord and Caduceus who are still sitting in the dining room. “Do you think it's him?”

Beau takes a moment, she already knows the answer, but she takes the moment anyway, because she needs it, because she knows the words will taste like ash on her tongue. “No. I don't think it's Molly.”

“Me neither.” Caleb walks away.

Beau steps into her room and closes the door behind her. She heads straight for the writing desk and pulls out her mountain of notebooks, determined to write about what just happened, what it means and how it connects to the other threads she's trying to pull together, but all she can manage is a few sentences. Her mind should be swimming, buzzing with the new information but instead it's empty, like all the thoughts have been drained out of her, by confusion, by grief, by the uncertainty of what happens next, and after an hour of sitting and staring at an almost blank piece of paper she gives up, snapping her pencil until three pieces and tossing them onto the desk.

She decides to train instead, pummeling the punching bag, trying to expel whatever it is that she's feeling in a frenzy of sweat, pain and eventually exhaustion.

When her limbs are sore and her brain more fuzzy than when she started, she crashes down onto her bed. Her eyes close and her body sinks into the mattress. Sleep will come in a matter of moments, or it would if there wasn't a knock at that exact moment. It's so gentle that Beau almost doesn't hear it, but she's glad she does because when she drags her tired body to the door she finds Yasha on the other side.

“Hi,” Beau says.

“Hey. I erm... Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. I was still awake. Are you... Do you need something?”

“I can't sleep.”

“Oh. Do you... Do you want to come in?” Beau asks.

“Please, if that's okay.”

“Sure.”

Yasha steps inside and after giving her a few moments to change her mind, Beau slowly closes the door, her mouth going a little dry at the thought that the two of them are alone. She stands back and watches as Yasha moves around the room, finally coming to a stop at the fireplace, that roars into life, and staring into the flames.

“Do you want something to eat?” Beau asks. “You haven't eaten much today.”

“Neither have you.”

“Okay, so lets tell the cats to bring us up some pancakes, and that is not the weirdest thing that I've ever said, if you can believe that.”

“I can believe it, and pancakes would be nice.”

“Or I have pocket bacon? Do you want some pocket bacon?” Beau quickly rummages through her pockets, grabs a couple of strips of bacon, and holds them out for Yasha.

“Thank you.”

Beau asks the cats to bring them up some pancakes and it's as weird as she thought it would be, then her and Yasha settle down in front of the fire.

“Beau, why do you keep bacon in your pockets? Is there a reason?”

“I just really like bacon,” Beau says with a smile, but it's a smile that Yasha doesn't return. “I started doing it back in Kamordah. I had a pretty major fight with my dad and so I left, I just walked right out of the door. I stayed away for about a day, but I was cold and lonely, and honestly starving, so I went back which my dad loved because it proved his whole everything I do is to protect you and therefore it's okay stuff he has going on.”

“He wasn't worried?”

Beau shrug her shoulders. “My mom was worried.” She goes quiet for a moment, actually contemplating the question; if her father was worried then he didn't show it, but she likes to think, no, she wants to hope he was.

“Beau.”

The gentle touch of Yasha's hand on her arm is enough to pull her from her contemplation and she looks up.

“Sorry,” Beau says.

“So, what about the bacon?”

“Oh yeah, I erm, I realised that there were going to be times when I just needed to get out of that house, to just run away and I wasn't always going to know when that was, so I started keeping things I might need to stay away longer, like food, on me. Bacon tastes the best, so pocket bacon.” Beau smiles again and this time Yasha returns it, slowly, but she does return it.

“You know -” Yasha's hand is still on Beau's shoulder, she moves it down, her fingers brushing against the fabric of Beau's robe, until she reaches her hand and grasps it - “you don't have to run from us.”

“I know.”

“Ever.” Yasha's grip on her hand tightens.

“I know.”

“So why did you put that bacon in your pocket last night? You're not planning to...”

“No. No, of course not. Yasha -” Beau shifts forward in her chair - “I'm here with you. For you. With you.” The words come so easily, easier than any words ever have before. “I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Good. That's good.”

Yasha moves forward and for a moment, this small microsecond, Beau is certain that both of them are leaning in at the same time. She holds her breath, a slight quiver on the back of her neck as her eyes close and she waits for what seems at this point inevitable. She can feel Yasha's breath on her lips and her stomach tightens.

The moment is ripped from them by the sound of a soft meow and a gentle tap on metal. The warmth of Yasha's breath disappears and after a moment Beau opens her eyes. Their pancakes have arrived.

Beau takes the pancakes from the ginger cat and thanks them, once again struck by the weirdness of it all. She places the plate on the table between them and Yasha quick digs in. Beau takes a few bites herself but she mostly allows Yasha to eat. Instead she stares up at the stain glass window just above the fire; the image of the Mighty Nein staring out over the fields of the Empire. Beau is in the middle, with Jester and Yasha on either side of her, then Caleb and Veth on the left, Fjord and Caduceus on the right. There's no Molly.

Beau doesn't think that Caleb meant anything by it, he probably didn't want to bring back painful memories, but now, after what they know, his absence from the scene is far too obvious. She wonders if Caleb would mind if she asked for Molly to be added, and then decides against it, choosing to wait until they know what's happened to him.

“It's beautiful,” Yasha says. Most of the pancakes are gone, there are just a few left and she pushes the plate towards Beau to finish.

“What?”

“The window, it's beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Does it move?”

“No, I don't think it does.”

“Oh.”

“That's okay. I kind of prefer it this way.” Beau thinks it's a deliberate choice by Caleb, to create this static moment of happiness, of togetherness that will never change and never disappear. He knows her so well.

Yasha yawns. She tries to hide it but Beau sees.

“Maybe we should try to get some sleep.”

Yasha averts her gaze. “I don't think I want to be alone right now.”

“That's okay, you can, erm, you can -” Beau stutters slightly when Yasha looks up at her and there's a moment of anticipation as they stare each other - “stay here. I mean, only if you want, but you could stay here, maybe. The bed is big enough for, erm, or you could take the bed and I could take the floor or something.”

“I'd like that.” Yasha stands.

Beau hesitates, her hands gripping onto the arms of the chair.

“Is the mirror still above your bed?”

Beau laughs. “I actually haven't had a chance to look yet.”

“Then we should look.”

Yasha disappears into the bedroom and Beau smiles to herself before she stands up and follows her. Yasha's already on the bed by the time Beau gets there, her eyes closed, her boots kicked onto the floor. Beau joins her. She gently sits on the side of the bed and after a quick glance at Yasha and a bite of her own lip she lies down.

The blue rope hangs down and Beau pulls, the curtain sliding away and she's staring at the reflection of the two of them, lying side by side. There's a gap between them, less than an inch, most wouldn't notice, but to Beau it's obvious.

Beau stares at the reflection of Yasha's face; at her hair splayed out across the pillow, at the sharpness of her jaw line, the softness of her lips. Yasha's eyes slowly open and Beau is struck by how beautiful and how bright, despite the sadness, they are. She closes the gap between them, the back of their hands brushing together.

“Do you intend to use it?” Yasha asks.

“I don't know, probably. I mean Caleb went to all this trouble, it would be rude not to and if you can find the right person then this sort of thing can be, well, fun.”

“Any thoughts on who?”

“What?”

I know you've had...” Yasha trails off.

Beau thinks about Keg, and about Reani, and Tori, and while she can imagine all of them being invited into the tower (even Tori), and she can also imagine them being invited into her room, but what she can't imagine is any of them making it here, lying beside her on this bed. Not now.

“Right now, the only person I feel comfortable having in here is you.”

They stare at each other in the mirror.

“That's good, because I like it here. Caleb did a really good job.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“We should do something nice for him, to say thank you. Maybe we could get him some books or some nice parchment and a quill, just a little something to show he's appreciated, you know. He might need it after seeing Trent again.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“We could go tomorrow,” Yasha says. “We have a couple of days before we have to go and see Vess DeRogna.”

Beau feels her stomach tighten. She pulls her gaze away from the mirror, no longer satisfied with just Yasha's reflection and rolls onto her side. “Yasha, are we talking about Caleb because you don't want to talk about Molly?”

“Is that okay?”

Beau wants to say yes. It very much feels like the right answer because it's the answer Yasha wants, but there's this tiny part of her, this small voice in the back of her head begging her not to say it. “I don't know. But if you did want to talk about him then I'm happy to listen.”

Beau stares at Yasha, watching as she takes a breath, and another, and another, and just as Beau thinks she isn't going to get an answer, Yasha also rolls onto her side and they're staring at each other.

“Do you think Cree is forcing him to go somewhere?”

“Jester said that he seemed willing. That he was smiling.”

“You don't think it's him, do you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I can't imagine Molly coming back and him not doing everything he could to find you, to let you know. He cared about you too much not to.”

“Even at end?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if he remembers and he hates me?”

“Yasha, why would...”

“Because I'm the reason he's dead. I could've stopped them from taking us. I should've stopped them, because if I had, you wouldn't have gone after them and Molly wouldn't be dead. It's my fault, why wouldn't he hate me?”

“Yasha, nobody ever blamed you for what happened. The Iron Fucks could've got the drop on any of us, Molly certainly never blamed you. There are a lot of things I didn't know about Molly, clearly, but one thing that I'm certain of is that Molly would never hate you. He loved you.” Beau places her hand on Yasha's shoulders.

“Thank you, Beau,”Yasha says, but there are clearly tears in her eyes.

“And whatever happens next I'm here, okay.” Beau's hand slides from Yasha's shoulder up to the back of her neck and pulls her into a hug. Yasha's hands grab at her waist and the two of them hold each other until sleep eventually takes them.

[spoiler1001]

Last one for now: Kid fic. One of them finds a baby, and baby gets attached to them.

This is not what Molly wanted to do in life. Molly didn't want children. He had no idea how to raise a child. That was a lie. He knew how to do such things. The responsibility scared him. Small children looked at him in horror. He didn't want someone he was caring for to look at him in horror. He wasn't suited for that life. 

Caleb, Molly could tell, wanted to settle down and raise a child. He never told Molly but Molly had been married to Caleb for going on years now. He knew how Caleb ticked. Well, he always knew how Caleb ticked. That's why they worked so well. 

Caleb never raised the issue, seeing as he was happy living with Molly and his fey cats. Molly almost felt bad, but this would be a conversation for later. Their conversation never came. 

Caleb was never anxious for children. He wanted Molly happy. The other members had children that he could help with so he was satisfied with this life.  

That was until Caleb's alarm spell triggered, waking up him and Molly and causing them to leave their tower, dispelling it and into the cabin that the general public believed that the couple lived in. Molly opened the door, with a knife at the ready. He gasped and dropped the knife bending down to pick up a whimpering bundle. Molly was gentle. He was confused as the bundle cooed. 

"Molly?" Caleb whispered. Molly looked up with trepidation in his eyes.

In his arms was a gray-green tiefling with solid blue eyes. The horns had not even grown in yet. There wasn't any hair yet. The child was shivering.  It was whimpering and crying. Molly pulled out a card, written in something Molly couldn't read. But Caleb could, and he did. 

He read it quickly and blanched. "This is Essek." 

Essek had passed years ago. Assassins. Caleb had found him. There was a whole funeral by the group. He was wiped from his shadowhand job, thrown from his family. It was apparent that he was in his second life.

"What should we do?" Molly asked, cradling the child. 

"I'll message Jester or Veth. See if they could take in the child." Caleb answered. 

"I thought you wanted children?" Molly let the child grab onto Molly's pinky. 

"You didn't. I didn't want children at the cost of you." Caleb cupped Molly's cheek.

"How are they sure that this is Essek." Molly asked. The infant sneezed. It was cute. 

"They checked the soul. Some new magic that Essek's own research brought to light." Caleb took the infant from Molly. 

Molly was thoughtful for a moment. 

"We know what it's like to have a mistake blow up in our face…" Molly supplied. "Should we just try?"

"Are you sure?" 

"This is Essek. At least we'll know how safe he is." Molly nodded. 

Caleb nodded. "We can keep him safe until what?"

"That is up to him." Molly shrugged. 

So they summoned the tower again, this time with a baby crib, lots of pillows. 

Molly and Caleb returned to bed, looking at the crib. 

The realization hit Caleb. The memory of finding Essek. Caleb was getting books for Essek to pass the time. Things got so boring. He came to find essek days later. Cold. Stiff. 

Caleb pulled himself out of his thoughts. Tears built in his eyes. He let them fall. Molly kissed the side of his head. Even after so much time has passed, he missed his friend. Molly hugged his husband. 

"We can do good by him." Molly promised. 

"We will." Caleb nodded and wrapped his arms around the child. 

They fell asleep after the baby did. 

Caleb woke up to Molly feeding the infant...feeding Essek with a bottle of milk. He was humming something in infernal. Caleb couldn't understand it, but the voice was so soothing. The child started purring. It was soft and higher pitched. 

Molly looked up from where he was. "He's deceptively cute. Frumpkin has some competition." Molly chuckled. The baby was fed and burped. Frumpkin meowed at the mention but poured back at the sight of the babe. 

"He loves it." Caleb promised. He used his copper wire to make a call.

Whoever Caleb called arrived an hour later. Molly was not surprised when Fjord and Jester arrived. She had a baby bump. That was new. She was bubbly and happy, purring the entire way. 

Essek cooed and reached for Jester. 

"Has he started floating yet?" Jester asked. Caleb laughed. 

"He has only been here one night." Caleb chuckled. 

"So he'll get to that soon." Molly joked. 

Molly handed Essek to Caleb and hugged Jester. 

"We're here to help." Fjord spoke up. "It's not every day that our friend gets reborn." 

"But he's back. And now we're gonna raise him with actual caution." Caleb promised. 

The child pouted at that. Aww. He was being clever. 

"This child will have the darkest sense of humor." Fjord mused. 

"He had that before he got into this situation." Caleb smiled. 

The baby grabbed Caleb's hair and pulled, not painfully but there was a good grip. 

"Hopefully he won't be the kind of tiefling that can breath fire." Jester hummed. 

Caleb raised an eyebrow. 

"Ooh. Maybe he'll sprout wings." Molly joined in.

"Are those really things?" Caleb raised an eyebrow, freeing his hair from the baby. 

Jester placed a toy for the infant in his grasp. 

"Momma can breathe literal fire." Jester stated. 

"Your mother frightens me." Caleb said sincerely. 

"My mother scares everyone." Jester grinned. "That reminds me, she'll want to meet Essek again." 

"In due time." Caleb promised. 

"Yasha, Beau and Veth first, I'm assuming?" Fjord asked. 

"And then Marion and the others." Caleb nodded. 

[sunflowersloth]

Routine- Caleb Widogast x Reader

Requested By: Anon.

Request: “number 5 of Misc with Caleb. But instead of the dog it's frumpkin. please and thank you!”

Warnings: None.

A/N: Happy New Year! I’m so happy to be posting again and to bring you guys some content. I’m actually almost done with the last batch of requests, so sometimes soon the new request form will be up. Love you guys and happy new year. 

Everyone in your small town had a routine. The blacksmith woke up at dawn, had a small breakfast, and began his day at work, like clockwork every day. The shopkeepers woke up, had breakfast, restocked their stores and opened for business. 

You were no different. Every morning, before the sun even came up, you were awake and in the kitchen, baking pastries and loaves of bread for the day and getting ready to sell them. It had been that way since you had moved out of your parent's house, and you didn’t think today would be any different. 

You were wrong. 

After finishing the last of the morning batch of baked goods, you went out to the front of the store to hang your open sign and take a look at the rising sun, breathing in the fresh air. The town was quiet, just the way it always was. Smiling, you prepared to walk back into the bakery, when you felt something fuzzy brush against your ankles. 

Looking down quickly, you were greeted by a cat. He was small and orange, with a light underbelly and dark brown detailing all over his back and tail. He stared up at you with big round orange-toned eyes and meowed. You instantly melted, smiling as you bent down to the cat rubbing his head against your legs. 

“Hello, little one. Are you lost?” You asked, putting your hand out for him to sniff. He sniffed it curiously and meowed again. You were about to pet him when a voice called out. 

“Frumpkin! Frumpkin!” You looked towards the sound, eyebrows furrowed as a man turned around the corner, a shorter girl following behind him. You stood up straight, as the man approached the cat, scooping him up. 

“Frumpkin, you can’t run off like that!” The man scolded with an accent. You smiled at the man, who was now holding the cat gently. 

“Can I pet your cat?” You asked, looking to Frumpkin who now sat in his arms. The man looked at you, blue eyes piercing your appearance. 

“Do I know you?” He asked. You frowned as you shook your head. 

“No, however, your cat just walked up to me and is very cute. Can I pet him?” You asked once more. The man looked shocked at your response, before nodding and allowing you to pet Frumpkin. The orange cat purred as he curled into your palm. You smiled as you tousled the cat's fur. 

“He’s lovely. Would you and your friend like to come in? I just finished frosting the doughnuts!” You said. The man opened his mouth but was cut off by a voice coming down the street.

“Did someone say doughnuts!” A blue tiefling exclaimed as she dragged a green half-orc behind her. You stared as three more people, a tall and pale barbarian, a small goblin, and a purple tiefling followed being the other two. 

“I’m Caleb. These are my friends.” Caleb said, almost sheepishly. You scanned the group over before smiling. 

“Well, I’d hate to leave you standing on my doorstep. Come in!” You said, before heading back into the bakery. The group piled in, sitting down at one of the tables as you rushed behind the counter to grab assortments or baked goods and some apple cider. You emerged from the kitchen with food and drinks and set them on the table in front of the group, receiving some smiles from them.

“This is so kind of you. My name’s Fjord.” The half-orc said with a drawl. You smiled and sat down with them shrugging.

“Pleasure to meet you Fjord. My name’s Y/N, and it’s really no problem. You guys are new here, aren’t you?” You asked, curiously. The group exchanged looks before the shorter, tan girl from earlier nodded.

“We’re on our way to Nicodranas. We stopped to look for a bit of work.” Beau answered. You smiled as your eyes lit up. 

“Well, if you’re still looking to work, my dear friend over at the tavern might have a job for you?” She said. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Caleb said. You nodded, as you walked over to grab a bit of parchment. You ripped a piece off and began writing with your ink.

“Give him this for me, will you? It’ll let him know you’re friends of mine.” You said, pressing it into Caleb’s warm and calloused hand. Caleb nodded, fingers wrapping around the paper as you sent them a smile. Your attention was drawn as the door opened and someone walked it. You immediately rushed off to greet them and serve them. Beau smirked as she nudged Caleb with her elbow.

“You’re a little red there, Caleb.” She teased. Caleb sent his eyes to the floor, the feeling of your fingers in his palm short-circuiting his brain. He was still speechless as the group finished their breakfast and headed to the tavern to see your friend. 

The next morning, you found your routine once again changed. You were just finishing opening the store when Caleb and Jester walked up the steps and into your bakery. 

“Y/N! Do you have any delicious baked good for me?” Jester exclaimed as she bounced to the front counter, smiling brightly. You looked up, and smiled, pulling a box out from behind the counter. 

“I think I can manage to pull something together.” You said, sending a small smile to Caleb who was awkwardly standing beside the blue tiefling. You pulled a couple of donuts and some bread from behind the counter, placing them in the box and handing it to Jester. 

“I guess this means you’ll be staying for a while.” You said, hope seeping into your voice. Caleb nodded, scratching his neck as he avoided your eyes. 

“Yeah, probably for the next couple of weeks.” He replied. You beamed at the response and the prospect of seeing the ginger wizard every morning for a while. Jester and he walked out, pastries in hand as you attended to the next customer. 

This became your new morning routine for the next week. Caleb and one of his friends would come in, you’d chat and give them some pastries, free of charge, and then they’d leave. You never questioned why Caleb always came, mostly because you liked when the man visited. He had become more talkative with you, and you blushed whenever you caught him staring at you for too long. Your heart began to flutter when he would walk to the door and your entire body warmed when your hands would touch as you handed him the pastry bag. 

It was a Sunday morning, and the bakery was closed as it always was on Sundays. You had slept in like you usually do on your one day off. You were getting ready to go to town and get some groceries, a part of your Sunday routine when you heard knocking coming from downstairs. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The bakery was always closed, everyone knew that. So who was at your door?

You headed downstairs to see Caleb and Frumpkin at the bakery doors. You opened it and sent him a smile.

“Caleb! The bakery’s closed today.” You said. Caleb nodded, avoiding your eyes.

“Ja, I know. I actually wanted to talk to you.” He said. You stared at him with wide eyes, before nodding and stepping aside, allowing the wizard and the familiar to step into the store. You led him upstairs, to where you lived. It was smaller than the bakery downstairs, but it was cozy enough as you and Caleb sat across from each other at your dining room table.

“What’s going on, Caleb?” You asked. Caleb wrung his hands slightly, almost appearing nervous to you. You wanted to reach out and take his hands, but you stopped yourself.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think that I’ve ever found someone so intriguing as you. I don’t know what it is, but something about you makes me want to know more and more. I know we’ve only known been a week, but I would love to spend more time with you.” Caleb said, his tone almost monotone, the nerves leaking in. You stared at him before a huge smile spread on your face.

“Caleb, I thought you’d never ask.” You said, finally reaching out and taking his hand. He smiled slightly as your hands touched, the warmth from both of them radiating. It was then that Frumpkin jumped onto the dining room table, purring and nudging your hands. You laughed, and couldn’t help thinking that you could get used to this new routine, especially if it included Caleb.

[church-of-lavorre]

(Ignore this ask if the "only one of these types of questions per person" rule is in play) 6, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 for the Tiberius/Caleb/Essek poly ship please cause I love these dorky spellcasters as a ship.

ask as many times as you’d like! i love writing headcanons and Tiberius/Caleb/Essek is a fun dynamic!

6) do i have any fankids for this ship?

well, until your first ask i hadn’t really thought about it! shadowgast didn’t feel like the sort of pairing where they’d want children, the two of them being more focused on study and research than family but with the inclusion of Tiberius i can definitely see them as parents! as of right now, i have 2 fankids for WidoStormHand, a boy and a girl. the little girl is named Kiva and has a mowgli-jungle book-esque vibe about her, she’s a baby half-elf druid that they stumbled upon one day while researching some ancient ruins. Tiberius couldn’t stand the thought of her being out in the world all alone so he got Caleb to use Frumpkin to calm her down; Essek allowed Caleb and Tiberius to bring Kiva home but kept saying that she couldn’t stay with them and that they’d have to find her a family soon that could take care of her properly and give her a childhood. of course, it never actually happened and it was only when Kiva was 14 that Essek realised that he’d never actually made true on his threats to give her to a family that could take care of her and, at this point, he loved her too much to bear the thought of sending her away. being a druid, Kiva’s magic was at the other end of the spectrum to Tiberius and Caleb’s so she spent most of her days learning magic with Essek or Caduceus when he could spare the time. she calls Caleb ‘Papa’, Tiberius ‘Dad’ and Essek ‘Father’. the boy’s name is August and he’s a human sorcerer; Caleb went to the empire for a short period of time to sort some things out and, while in Rexxentrum, had August attempt to pick his pocket. used to how sticky fingered Veth is, Caleb recognised the tug of someone going through his coat and caught August by the hand. Releasing a burst of bright light directly into Caleb’s face, August ran for it but Caleb soon tracked him down and asked where he’d learned to do that. August explained that he didn’t know, Caleb asked where his parents were and August admitted that they’d abandoned him so Caleb offered for August to come back to Roshona with him, the little boy agreeing. Essek and Tiberius hadn’t been expecting their boyfriend to come home with a child but the way that August clung to Caleb’s coat and looked at the two shyly had them warm up to him almost immediately. Kiva was confused as to where this little boy had come from and why he now had the room next to hers but she soon got used to the idea of having a little brother and they proceeded to steal any shreds of sanity their parents might have had left. when Caleb brought August home, Kiva was 12 and August was 5.

12) who brings home a bunch of rescue animals and who has to send them back?

Caleb, with his love of cats, once adopted 17 cats from the local animal shelter and tried to convince Essek that they were all the same cat, just really fast and of the faerie variety like Frumpkin. Essek knew that something was up but didn’t question it because Tiberius had yet to realise that not only did they have 2 children but they had an over abundance of cats. it took 2 months for Tiberius to realise the cats, but only after he tripped over one while reading and sipping a mug of coffee, spilling the coffee down his robe and all over his book. Tiberius loved animals, after all he had traveled for quite a while with Trinket, but once he’d become aware of the cats it was hard for him to ignore the way their fur stuck to everything and the incessant, never ending meowing so he put his foot down and said that they had to go. Caleb tried desperately to convince his boyfriends to let him keep all the cats but his pleas fell on deaf ears because Essek had long since gotten sick of the cats.

14) who gets cold and who offers them their jacket?

Caleb, being the fragile human that he is, often forgets how cold it gets in Roshona. Essek is used to plummeting temperatures and Tiberius has a naturally high core temperature, it comes with being a red dragonborn, so neither of them are as bad with the cold as Caleb. out of the three of them, Essek is generally the only one wearing cloaks to spare, Tiberius almost always forgetting to put one on before leaving because he’s so scatterbrained but also because he’s always warm, so he has to lend them to Caleb when the human starts to feel the chill. on the rare occasions that Tiberius actually has a cloak, Caleb prefers to steal his because it’s already very very warm from the dragonborn’s body temperature but taking Tiberius’ cloaks always end in a long lecture from the dragonborn about human body temperatures, fragility, the human immune system, weather patterns and meteorology. Essek doesn’t mind when this happens but Caleb sometimes does as all he wants is the cloak and Tiberius hasn’t given it to him yet because he’s talking so passionately.

15) who tucks who into bed after a long night of studying?

Essek and Tiberius are able to study for hours without needing sleep, though Essek as an elf always outlasts Tiberius but Tiberius can stay awake for a disturbingly long amount of time. Caleb always falls asleep first, his boyfriends letting him nap on the books as they keep studying for a little while before Tiberius gets excited about something and his voice raises considerably, almost shocking Caleb awake. at this point, Essek carries Caleb off to bed and tucks him in with a kiss on the forehead before returning to Tiberius in the library. they’ll spend a while discussing Tiberius’ find before Caleb appears in the doorway, hair sleep mussed, and demands that the two of them get their asses to bed because he’s cold.

16) who organises most of the dates?

Tiberius! Tiberius likes doing nice things for his boyfriends and always goes to great lengths to organise the best dates possible whether it be the three of them going on a picnic or getting Beau to let them into one of the Cobalt Soul libraries through a transportation circle and some fast talking. no matter what they do or where they go, Tiberius always makes sure to include elements of discovery and learning things in the dates because nothing is more fun than a little debate between himself and two of the most beautiful magical minds he’s ever met.

17) who gets them banned from their favourite restaurant and why?

this one was both Caleb and Tiberius’ fault though neither of them will accept that they had any part in it. sick of cooking, Essek made a reservation at their favourite restaurant in Roshona, at their favourite table overlooking the koi pond, and had both his boyfriends dressed nicely by 6:30 so they would arrive on time. they got to the restaurant, sat down and Caleb, unintentionally, summoned Frumpkin who was set purring around his shoulders. a waiter came over and notified the trio that animals weren’t allowed in the establishment and if they would be so kind as to remove it they could continue their evening. immediately, Tiberius stood up, throwing his chair back into the pond and demanded to know what the waiter’s issue was with the cat. the poor waiter just tried to explain that this was a restaurant and they could get shut down for having animals in there; still not understanding what the waiter was saying so the waiter went to get the owner of the restaurant. the owner tried to explain to Tiberius why Frumpkin couldn’t be in the restaurant, Essek behind him with his face in his hands and a tomato red Caleb. eventually calming Tiberius down, the owner went back to her work and so did the waiter. Caleb dismissed Frumpkin and the trio ate their meal in relative peace. as they were leaving the owner of the restaurant came up to them and politely asked that they never come back, Tiberius was furious but Essek immediately shut him up and replied with “trust me, we won’t be, i am so sorry”. Caleb then may or may not have bamfed Frumpkin into the kitchen of the restaurant and set all hell loose.

18) AUs i’ve seen for this ship?

i haven’t actually seen any AUs for this ship but i hope i start seeing some soon! if not, i’ll have to annoy some people until they do!

19) AUs i have for this ship?

i really like the idea of a college/university AU for Tiberius/Essek/Caleb. Caleb being brand new and in his first year of uni while Tiberius is a teachers assistant and one of the RAs in Caleb’s dorm. Essek is this genius student who is studying like 20 degrees at once and struggles with social interaction, Tiberius is completely unaware that Essek is in his form until he’s helping Caleb move in, opens a door and finds Essek sitting in almost complete darkness reading the biggest damn book he’s ever seen. for the first couple of months, no matter how hard he tries to interact with Essek, Caleb just can’t breach the other man’s walls. they have a couple of classes together and it turns out that one half of Caleb’s degree is the same as one of Essek’s. the entire time, Essek has been unable to communicate with Caleb because he goes into gay panic™️ whenever Caleb opens his mouth. still at a loss for how to make friends with Essek, Caleb goes to Tiberius and starts venting his concerns, the dragonborn trying and failing to provide emotional support. it’s fine though because Caleb finds this endearing. just before winter break, when caleb is planning on going home, Essek musters enough courage up to ask Caleb to get a coffee with him but he’s so awkward that he ends up inviting Tiberius along too, the dragonborn having been in the hallway at the same time to make sure anyone who needed to catch a train off campus was ready to go, having recognised him as the dorm RA and Caleb’s friend(?). the three go and get coffee, all of them very awkward at first until Tiberius starts rambling on about baking and chemistry and the importance of using the correct flour. soon, the three of them are in a deep conversation about molecular biochemistry (1/2 of Caleb’s double degree and one of Essek’s degrees) and quantum biomechanics (Tiberius’ degree and the other half of Caleb’s degree). from there the three of them fall in love! i just love the idea of that as an AU for them because they’re all so smart and i just wanna see the three magic boys as uni students! also, a hogwarts AU would be amazing! Essek and Caleb as Slytherins with Tiberius as their delightful Hufflepuff!

[sockablock]

Something New for Me and You

• (start) (prev) (AO3) (next) •

Chapter 2: Last Song of the Night 

Caleb shut the door and fumbled slightly with his keys, trying to not to drop them while also trying to balance a large plastic bag of leftovers in his arms. Eventually he managed to hook them onto the rusted coat rack by their welcome mat which, in faint letters, read:

Nein.

Nott had found it buried under a pile of random junk in the Goodwill down the street a few years ago. It had been a permanent fixture of their home ever since.

Caleb slipped his shoes off, and went to unbutton his jacket, and remembered that he wasn’t wearing it anymore.

“Scheiss,” he muttered, “Molly still has it.”

“Has what?” Nott asked.

Caleb looked up and saw a pair of large, bright yellow eyes glowing back at him from the approximate area of the kitchen set-up, about five feet in the air. And then, in the darkness, another eye opened, much smaller and pale blue. He squinted. Then he flicked his wrist, and four globules of light blossomed around him. They drifted out to the corners of their tiny apartment, faintly illuminating the room around them and revealing Nott, sitting on their makeshift dinner table, holding Frumpkin in her lap. There was a faint meow from said cat, which Caleb decided to interpret as a greeting.

“What does he still have?” Nott asked again. “Oh, and welcome home. Nothing exploded while you were gone.”

This elicited a faint smile. “That’s good,” he said, “I always like to hear that is the case.” Then he started undoing the buttons on his vest and added, “I was referring to my jacket. Mollymauk still has it.”

Nott instantly raised an eyebrow. “Why’d he steal your jacket?” she asked suspiciously.

Caleb snorted. “No, no, he didn’t steal it.” And then he blushed slightly, and his fingers slipped. “I just, er, I just lent it to him.”

Her other eyebrow went up. “Oh, no. Caleb, come on, no.”

“What is your ‘oh no,’ what does that mean?”

Nott leaned back. She lifted Frumpkin up by the scruff and over his protesting meows said, “Gosh, kitty, Caleb really must be in love.”

He spluttered. This vest would not be coming off anytime soon. “That’s not true, spatz. That’s not the case at all.”

“Frumpkin, I think he’s lying to us.”

“I am not,” he said, and would be affronted if he wasn’t so flustered. “I went tonight as a favor for Jester. Nothing else. Not to find a…a significant other, not to take advantage of her hospitality, and not to meet Mister Mollymauk. Er, I mean, to meet Mollymauk.”

Nott shook her head and tutted. “And gods, did you hear that? Mister,” she sighed. “That means he wants to impress him.” She turned towards Caleb. “Is this…Mister Mollymauk guy fancy, then? Is that why you’re all manners-y now?”

Caleb finally managed to shrug the vest off and hung it on the coat rack. He vaguely remembered that there were rules for storing such well-made clothing, but at the moment he couldn’t remember a single one.

“He is quite fancy,” Caleb conceded, making his way to the kitchen and taking a seat in front of Nott, who was still right in the middle of the table. “He’s a singer at a well-known club.”

“Which one?” Nott asked.

“The Fletching & Moondrop,” said Caleb, “same as Beau and Yasha. And Fjord, of course.”

“In the fancy part, I’m guessing?”

Caleb sighed. “Why did everybody but me know that their club had such a gleaming reputation?”

“Because Yasha and Beau work there,” Nott said. “Jester knows everything. You don’t pay attention.”

“And how did you know?”

She shrugged. “I used to sneak in and steal stuff from the rich folk. But now I’m reformed and a valuable member of society and I only steal when I need to. Or when you ask me to. Or when I can’t help myself.”

“Truly, a model citizen. I am impressed.”

She beamed. Her jagged, crooked teeth gleamed yellow under the faint light from Caleb’s globules. He absently leaned over, and pinched her cheek.

“So other than the fact you’re in love now,” Nott said after he pulled away, “how was the double date? Does Molly love you back? Did Fjord and Jester make out? Did you bring me back leftovers?”

He nodded, and pushed the plastic bag towards her. Her eyes lit up, and she started yanking out leftover containers.

“There’s still some chicken,” he began, “and salad, but I imagine you won’t want that. There’s also fish of some kind, save that for Frumpkin, and, oh, I see you’ve found the beef—”

Her cheeks bulged. The table was now covered in scraps, and Frumpkin poked a loose tomato with his nose.

“Sorry,” she said, slightly muffled. “I was really hungry.”

He smiled. “Bon appetit, schatz. Sorry to make you wait so long for dinner. I thought I would be home by ten but—”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a midnight snack.” She shoveled a forkful of chicken into her mouth. “And it sure beats not having any dinner. Plus this stuff is real fancy. It’s going to make pizza tomorrow look like peasant food.”

Caleb blinked. “Pizza tomorrow? Why are we getting pizza tomorrow?”

She frowned. “We always get pizza on movie night,” she said. “Is—can we not afford it? Because I can go steal some from somewhere, I’m sure.”

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “No, no, no need, sorry. With all the excitement of tonight’s dinner I forgot that it was our turn to host movies tomorrow. We should be alright. I mean, I’m sure Kosh was kidding when he threatened to cut our power, right?”

Nott nodded loyally. “Definitely,” she said. “Absolutely, probably.”

“Great. Did you pick out a movie, yet?”

She grinned. “Actually, I let Jester—”

“We are not watching Tusk Love again. I swear to the gods I will torch the television.”

“You won’t,” said Nott in a singsong voice. “We can’t afford another one.”

He sighed in defeat. “Why would you let Jester do that? She does not need another enabler, after Fjord.”

“I like her,” said Nott, “and I couldn’t think of anything. And I knew you’d want to watch The Courting of the Crick—”

He blushed. “I would not—”

“And I refuse to watch a romantic film that’s going to teach me something. So Tusk Love it is.”

“Are you even old enough to have an opinion on...on...on smutty movies?”

“Definitely,” said Nott. She pushed a plate of salad towards Caleb. “Can you put that in the fridge?” she asked. “And make more ice? The layer from this morning is melting now.”

He accepted the tray and made his way over to their unplugged refrigerator, dragging along a Dancing Light as he went. And while he rubbed his hands together and started concentrating on a localized, low-power Ray of Frost, Nott spoke up again.

“So, you didn’t answer my question from before,” she said. “Did Mollymauk fall in love with you?”

He snorted. “I doubt it. He’s a nice fellow, but we barely know each other. I think we’re just getting to be friends, also.”

“Did you get his phone number?”

“I do not use my phone, spatz.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to start?”

He sighed. “It’s better for our budget if I didn’t. Besides, yours has been fine for both of us, hasn’t it?”

“That’s true. Hey, is he coming to movie night? Isn’t he Jester’s friend now? And Fjord’s? Nevermind, he’s definitely coming to movie night.”

Caleb, face hidden by the fridge door, blushed. “Maybe,” he said. “I suppose we will wait and see.”

“I wanna meet him,” said Nott. “I need to make sure he’s good.”

“And what would you do if he was not?”

“Kill him,” she said with complete nonchalance.

Caleb stood up, shutting the fridge behind him. “Please don’t do that,” he sighed. “I don’t want to deal with the police. I’m sure Jester would be devastated. And...I would prefer if you did not.”

She grinned. “You really do love him.”

Caleb rubbed at his eyes, and gave her one last half-hearted sigh. “I’m going to bed, spatz. You try and get some sleep as well, alright?”

She gave him a salute. “No promises,” he said.

“Good enough,” he nodded, and turned around and walked into the bedroom and got ready for the night.

•

The second they got home, Molly belligerently refusing to answer a single one of Fjord’s not-so-casual, prying questions the entire ride back, Molly shut himself into his bedroom, and leaned against the door.

Their apartment was never what Molly’s...guests expected, especially since Fjord also lived there, but he always liked to think that they had done rather well for themselves. The space wasn’t small, there was a lovely view of the waterfront, and two bedrooms, a bath, and a proper kitchen was quite the achievement in Molly’s eyes. And Fjord’s, who had grown up moving crates at the docks of a neighboring city. Plus the place was furnished mostly by Molly’s ever-rotating cycle of deep-pocketed suitors, so it was not only well-decorated, but also extremely gaudy. He loved it. Fjord didn’t, but never complained.

Molly wiggled out of his dress and into a bathrobe—another gift—and tossed it onto the bed. And then he considered the jacket Caleb had given him. It was tan, extremely well-made, and had kept him warm in a number of ways on the ride home. He laid it out carefully on the back of a chair. And then he threw himself into his sheets and pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Hello?”

Molly beamed. “Yasha! Darling, how are you?”

There was a pause from the other end of the line. And then a long sigh.

“Mollymauk, it is one in the morning.”

He flipped over onto his stomach and started twirling his hair. “And what?” he asked. “I can’t call my favorite lady in the entire world at one in the morning? My best woman? My dearest friend? The light of my life—”

“You only make phone calls when you are drunk,” said Yasha. “Are you drunk?”

Molly rolled his eyes, and then forgot that Yasha couldn’t see him. “No, no, I’m not drunk, dear. Not even tipsy. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve met the love of my life, and that I’m changing my last name now.”

There was another long pause. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

He sighed. “Peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Sally sells seashells by the seashore. Wizened old wizards hold wiggling wild wands—”

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” came Yasha’s voice. “Who are you talking about? Is it another bar patron? You know how those always end.”

Molly shook his head. “No, no, dear. Not at all. It’s someone I had the most wonderful date with, at the Triumph Chime’s rooftop restaurant. You know the one.”

“I do,” said Yasha, “but it’s not a bar patron? That’s a very nice place for a date, Molly.”

“Come now, come now, don’t tell me Jester didn’t tell you?!”

“Tell me what, Molly?”

“I had a double date tonight, of course! With her and Fjord and one of her friends! One of your friends, actually.”

Molly counted down on his fingers as he waited for Yasha to put two and two together.

“Beau?” she asked, astonished.

Molly almost choked. “No, gods no,” he spluttered, completely thrown off now. “No, Yasha, no. With Caleb. Caleb Widogast?”

“...with Caleb.”

“Yes, darling.”

“You went to the Triumph Chime with Caleb?”

“Yes, darling.”

"You went to the Triumph Chime with Caleb?"

"Yes, darling."

“And...and you’re in love with Caleb?”

“Yes, darling, is it the late hour? You’re usually much quicker on the uptake—”

“Excuse me,” said Yasha, cutting him off, “I’ve got to go.”

And then before he could respond, the line went dead.

“Hello? Yasha? Hello?”

Molly looked at his screen. It was dark. He sighed, and put his phone down on the covers next to him, and stared up at the cieling for a minute or two. And then his cell started buzzing, and he quickly grabbed it and hit answer.

“Mollymauk?”

“Yes, Yasha?”

“I just called Jester to make sure.”

“And?”

There was no hesitation this time. “I’m happy for you.”

Molly fought the wide grin threatening to split his face in two, and lost. “Thank you, dear.”

“Does he like you back?”

“I have no idea.”

Molly could almost picture Yasha nodding solemnly here as she made a loud huffing noise and said, “Alright then. I suppose we’ve got some work to do, then.”

Molly laughed. “Thank you, dear. Whatever did I do to deserve you?”

“You can pay me back in that really good jerky they sell at that fancy supermarket.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Molly quipped, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

“See it later” said Yasha. “I know you’re not singing tomorrow night but there’s still all-day rehearsal, and I know how bad you are at waking up.”

Molly put his arm over his eyes and grinned. “Alright, alright, Mother. I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you at work?”

“Bright and early.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I love you, dear.”

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. “I love you too, Mollymauk. Now go away.”

He hung up and pulled his bathrobe off. Then he crawled under the covers, and sighed, and tried to go to sleep. He must have eventually dozed off but in the hours before he did, he kept glancing at the tan jacket in the corner, and kept thinking about a certain head of fiery hair, and a certain pair of dazzling blue eyes.

•

Jester created the new group chat: “TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO” 7 members: Jester, Beau, Yasha, Caleb, Fjord, Molly, and you

Today 12:13 PM

Jester changed her nickname to “(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*” Jester changed Beau’s nickname to “Drunkmonk” Jester changed Yasha’s nickname to “Babebarian” Jester changed Nott’s nickname to “SheSoBrave” Jester changed Fjord’s nickname to “Seaman” Jester changed Molly’s nickname to “Lavender Thunder” Jester changed Caleb’s nickname to “Gayleb”

You changed your nickname to “NottSoBrave”

Drunkmonk: aight i just got 90 notifications and nobody’s even said anything yet (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: shut up Beau this is important (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: WELCOME TO MOVIE NIGHT! Babebarian: it’s noon (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: WELCOME TO MOVIE NOON (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: fjord and molly you are now part of a very time-honored tradition Drunkmonk: we’ve been doing this for a month NottSoBrave: welcome and caleb says welcome too (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: anyways this is for planning tonight we are going to caleb and nott’s and we are going to watch tusk love 8PM and pizza any questions Seaman: why is my nickname seaman (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: you are a man of the sea Lavender Thunder: i concur and thank you for inviting me to your movie night! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: its my honor Seaman: oskar would have been better NottSoBrave: @jester caleb wants to know why his nickname is gayleb (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: because he is gay and is never going to open this chat to change it NottSoBrave: caleb says “point taken” (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: okay anyway is everybody good with this plan then?

Nott put down her phone and turned to Caleb. “This means you have Molly’s number now, doesn’t it?” she asked. “Now you can text him.”

He sighed and tapped the handlebar of the shopping cart nervously as they moved through the snack aisle of the Broad Barn, Nott occasionally leaning out of her perch in the toddler’s compartment to grab a bag of chips or a package of candy. They already had three boxes of popcorn kernels and four bottles of soda. Caleb, on the inside, was fearing for his nearly-empty wallet.

“I don’t know if I should, yet,” he muttered. “Isn’t it underhanded that I got it from somebody else? Shouldn’t I have asked for it by myself?”

“I dunno,” said Nott, casually slipping a chocolate bar into the pocket of her oversized hoodie. “Why didn’t you, before?”

“I was too afraid.”

“So this works great! Now you have it, and you don’t need to ask.”

He sighed. “Perhaps. But...but maybe I should wait for Molly to call me first?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, somehow managing to make the gesture supportive. “He seems like the type that would, anyway. Hey, can we get these too?” she pointed at a string of licorice.

“Put those in your sleeves if you like,” said Caleb, and steered them towards the toiletries section. “We need soap—don’t make that face, Yasha and Jester will kill me if I don’t clean up—and that means our snack budget is smaller now. Especially since our electric bill is overdue, and it’s winter, so we need as much as we can for heating.”

“I thought we were saving plenty by never using the lights and unplugging the fridge,” Nott muttered.

“Magic can only save so much,” Caleb sighed. “I do not want to know what would happen if I tried to use a Thunderwave to charge your phone. And I still cannot get more hours at the library,” he added dejectedly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around,” Nott said loyally. “They’ll realize any second how smart and hardworking and organized and on-time you are.”

He sighed again. “Let us hope. Come on, now, I think we have enough snacks. And I still need to do a deep clean of the apartment.”

“You’ve never done that before,” Nott pointed out. “Why now?”

A faint blush crept across Caleb’s cheeks. “No reason,” he said quickly. “I just want to be hospitable.”

Nott glanced down at her phone. Then she looked up and gave Caleb the cheekiest grin he had ever seen on her face before. “You’re doing it for Lavender Thunder, aren’t you?”

He almost choked. “Excuse me? For who?”

“That’s the nickname Jester gave to Molly. Weren’t you listening when I read them out loud?”

“Apparently not,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” she leaned over and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I’m sure you won’t have to call him that when he comes over. And, if you want, I’ll even help you clean.”

•

The group arrived at once, having carpooled together with Fjord as the driver in his beat-up station wagon, which was mildly terrifying for Caleb because he had only just shoved the air freshener under the kitchen sink and only just managed to kick the loose bags of cat food to the side and only just managed to slip on a semi-decent shirt, hoping that they would end up changing into pajamas soon, before there was a knock. And then several more knocks, as Jester muscled her way to the front.

He opened the door, and they all filed in. Fjord entered first, shaking Caleb’s hand and beaming and thanking him for hosting in that smooth southern accent. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, and came bearing a family-sized bag of Cheetos. Jester came next, waving the Tusk Love DVD with one hand and throwing a hug around Caleb with the other. Beau and Yasha followed, greeting him much more calmly, Yasha carrying a six-pack of soda and Beau with a DVD player in her arms. And then, at the rear, was Mollymauk.

At least his outfit was more tame this time, a long knit sweater covering his upper-body well, but Caleb had the distinct impression that jeans should not be that tight. Then he realized that they were leggings.

“Welcome, everybody,” he said, pointedly not making eye contact with Molly for fear of self-combustion. “I am glad you all got here safe.”

“Your landlord sucks,” said Fjord. “He was glaring at us as we came up.”

“He’s the worst,” supplied Nott. “You’re Fjord, right? Jester’s boyfriend?”

He preened slightly at this question, and stuck a hand out. “Nice to meet you. Nott?”

She took his hand with only mild-suspicion, which was rather good for her. “That’s me,” she said. “This is my house.”

“I’m Molly,” said Molly. “Nice to meet you as well.”

Nott did not accept his hand, but did give him a slight nod. “So you’re Molly,” she said. “Alright.”

Said tiefling raised an eyebrow. “Is…is everything alright?”

“Let’s get set up,” Caleb said quickly. “The lights are already off, for movie reasons, but I can make some if we need it. Could you put the snacks on the coffee table? And, er, Beau, I’ll give you a hand with the DVD player.”

As he walked over to help Beau, he sighed and under his breath mumbled, “Please, gods, spare me this evening.”

•

Caleb had a slightly tattered sofa, and an armchair next to it to form an “L” shape. Then the coffee table was nestled into that bend, and behind that the TV was positioned on top of a very tall stack of books, at an angle so that all could see it. Yasha took the chair; Beau immediately sat down on Yahsa’s left, on armrest, and swung a leg on top of the armrest of the sofa next to her. Caleb sat to Beau’s right, and Nott sat on the back of the sofa by his head. And then Molly had plopped down next to Caleb, and with the added bodies of Jester and Fjord—nearly on top of one another at the other end of the couch—they were extremely close.

“Mister Mollymauk,” Caleb murmured as the tiefling’s warm body pressed against his.

Molly raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I thought we agreed to be a bit less formal, around one another? I imagine this distance is as casual as it gets.”

Caleb managed a tiny grin. “We did,” he agreed quietly. “But it’s also kind of fun when it’s just me and you, isn’t it?”

Molly cracked a wide smile. “So it is, Mister Caleb. So it is.”

“Shut up,” said Beau loudly. “The movie’s starting.”

Molly rolled his eyes and stopped talking, but gave Caleb one last sheepish grin before turning away. After a second, Caleb forced himself to fix his gaze back towards the television. He wordlessly accepted the bowl of popcorn passed down to him from Nott, seated on top of the sofa, and handed it to Beau after scooping some up.

And then the words “Darrington Films Presents” appeared on the screen, and his attention focused on the opening scenes of Tusk Love.

•

“Oskar,” Jester mouthed softly along with Guinevere, “how very nice to meet you. Will you be in this area for long?”

“No, miss,” grinned Fjord, easily falling into the role under Jester’s enthusiastic urging. “I’m afraid the folk around here aren’t as kind as you are to people like me.”

“People like you?” Jester asked as Guinevere’s soft features curled into a confused smile. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“Well, you know. People who aren’t...people.” Fjord said, sighing.

Beau threw herself off the side of Yasha’s chair, bridging the gap between the sofa and almost launching herself into Caleb’s lap, who jumped slightly with a start. “This writing is trash,” she groaned, covering her eyes. “I can’t believe we have to watch it again.”

“Shhhhh,” hissed Molly, face glued to the grainy TV. “This is a masterpiece of fiction.”

“Yasha, back me up here.”

“Hush,” said Yasha softly. “This next part is my favorite.”

“Hang on,” said Fjord as Oskar suddenly turned around. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Jester asked with slightly too much feigned concern. “What is it?”

“It...it sounds like wolves.”

“Wolves?” Jester threw her arms around Fjord. “Oh, no, please! Oskar, what do we do?”

“Get behind me, Guinevere. I can protect us. I will—”

The TV screen went black. They were all silent, for a moment.

Then Beau stood up. “What the shit,” she asked. “What…did I do that?”

Caleb stiffened in his seat, the mild warmth of Molly’s side and the fabric of the sofa instantly melting away. He quickly glanced over at the heater in the corner and with a sinking stomach, realized that it had stopped whirring.

The power was out.

“Drat,” muttered Nott, getting up and walking over to the television. “The dumb thing must be broken again.”

Fjord stood up and went to follow her. “Here,” he said, pulling out his phone. “We can use this as a flashlight.”

“This may also help,” said Yasha, clapping her hands together. A sphere of bright light suddenly drifted into the air around them, hovering around Nott’s head.

“I’m gonna look for the light switch,” sighed Beau. “I can’t see shit right now.”

“Fjord, let me help,” said Jester, scrambling off the couch, “I can at least hold the phone—”

And amid the hustle and bustle of all his friends leaping into action, under their conversation and nose, Caleb heard a voice at the back of his mind.

It said:

What a disappointment. Trust you to ruin this night for your friends. Of course your landlord would cut the power, you’re worthless and miserable and can’t even make the bills on time. Look at you. You’re a disgrace. You should be ashamed of yourself. You should—

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He realized that his breathing had accelerated, that his fists were clenched, and even stranger than that, he was shaking.

But it wasn't from fear. It was from anger. At Kosh, at the television, at his ridiculous lack of funds and at himself for ruining this night for his friends.

He risked a glance to his left and saw a pair of bright, ruby eyes, glowing in the darkness, staring back at him with a furrowed brow. Behind Molly, the others were still talking loudly and weren’t paying attention to him. Fjord had crouched down next to Nott behind the small square television and was inspecting it with a frown. Jester was standing over them with the flashlight. To the side, Yasha helped the now-blind Beau look for a light switch.

“Are you alright?” Molly murmured. “You looked like you were...spacing out a bit.”

Caleb nodded.

“Can you speak?”

He was silent for a moment, and eventually trusted himself enough to open his mouth. “I can now,” he said. There was still a sharp edge to his words.

“What happened?” Molly asked gently.

“Electrical bill was overdue,” he muttered. “Kosh must’ve stopped the power.”

Molly nodded. “Do you want to solve that problem now? Do you want me to go talk to him?”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to deal with that now.”

“Alright, Caleb. Is there anything you do want?”

“I want to make sure Beau doesn’t try to turn the lights on,” he said, and as he did, he could feel himself beginning to calm down.

Molly nodded again. “Alright,” he said. “I might be able to help. Could I try something?”

He blinked. “What...what do you mean?”

This time Molly gave him a faint grin. “Trust me,” he whispered. “I’ve got a great way to distract people, and keep the fun going all at the same time

He squeezed Caleb’s shoulder, and felt the man untense further. He took this as his cue, and pulled away, and stood up on the sofa.“Hey, everybody!” he called excitedly. “Don’t bother with the TV. Caleb and I had a great idea.”

“What’s that?” Jester asked, glancing over. “Because I think we can fix—”

Molly shook his head quickly. “Nah,” he said. “This’ll be much simpler.”

“What is it, then?” Nott asked. “Are we changing apartments to finish the movie?”

“Nope!” Molly beamed, and stretched his arms out in a grand gesture. “Even better. We’re all going to get into Fjord’s car, and we’re going to go sing karaoke!”

There was a brief pause. Then Jester grinned enormously. “Can I pick the first song?” she asked.

"You can pick all the songs, dear."

Fjord glanced at Molly, and then back at Jester, whose face had lit up like a Winter's Crest ornament. “I’m in,” he said with a smile.

“Me too,” said Beau immediately. “I hate that movie.”

“I enjoy singing,” volunteered Yasha.

“I’m a great singer,” said Nott, bobbing her head. “Caleb, can we go?”

He nodded immediately. “Ja,” he said. “Ja, I would like to go.”

Molly laughed delightedly, and took a bow. “Excellent!” he called. “I know just the place.”

•

The host of the Leaky Tap Tavern and Karaoke Bar brightened right away when he saw Molly, and grinned even larger when he noticed how many others were accompanying said tiefling tonight. He didn’t even bat an eye when they insisted that Nott was definitely an adult halfling with a skin condition, and quickly waved them on into a back room.

“They know me here,” chuckled Molly. “People in the hospitality business stick together.”

“And you’ve thrown up here multiple times,” Fjord muttered, settling into one of the chairs. “You’ve really tested their hospitality before.”

Molly tuck his tongue out at him, and tossed the songbook over to Jester. “Here you are, dear. In charge, like we promised.”

She squealed with delight, and started rifling through the pages. “Just you wait, you guys!” she giggled. “Oh, this is going to be so fun!”

“Is there alcohol?” Beau asked.

“Even better. There’s a minimum purchase of alcohol.”

She smiled a wicked smile. “Excellent,” she said. “I’ll have as much beer as physically possible.”

They spent the next few hours tearing through Jester’s song selections, the highlights being when they sent tremors through the ground over the chorus of Sweet Caroline, absolutely butchered I Need a Hero, belted out the words to Build Me Up Buttercup, even reluctantly allowed Jester to shove Never Gonna Give You Up into the queue—and then unironically sung their hearts out anyways. They ran through Bohemian Rhapsody, where every person tried to sing every part, destroyed half the soundtrack of Grease, warbled along to Africa, giggled as Beau drunkenly stumbled through Electric Love and tried hard not to look at Yasha the entire time. They even roped the flustered-looking waiter into doing a surprisingly excellent rendition of Defying Gravity.

Molly's voice, of course, was the most self-confident of them all, and for good reason. Fjord's was strong and laced with his trademark accent. Jester’s was slightly pitchy, but her cheer and enthusiasm made any critiques meaningless. Beau sang aggressively, though after a few drinks she mellowed out significantly. Nott was an auditory nightmare, but seemed so genuinely happy that they just covertly turned down her microphone when she wasn't looking. Yasha and Caleb were both rather quiet—not from nerves, but as if they weren’t used to singing this way.

By the end of the night, Fjord had broken a heavy sweat. Jester was tipsy off Sangrias, Yasha’s pale skin had flushed slightly pink, Nott’s already-ragged voice was even more mangled, though she didn’t seem to care at all. Beau was completely plastered and needed Yasha’s help staying upright, and Molly had the largest grin in the world splitting his face in two. And though he had started out mostly just humming along at the beginning, even Caleb managed to raise his voice for song or two. He was smiling. His heart was racing and for once it felt good. He very much enjoyed these people.

"Thank you for this," he murmured to Molly as the others bickered over a song choice.

The tiefling smiled. It was small, and soft, and made Caleb's chest flutter.

"Of course, Mister Caleb. I'm always here. Er, I mean, anytime. If you need things. Oh, shit," he said suddenly, “speaking of things, I completely forgot to bring your jacket.”

Caleb blinked, and then shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “Next time.”

“Next time?” Molly paused. “Oh, right, yes, a next time. Yes, er, that’s a great idea.” In the low light, Caleb could see the other man’s cheeks flushing, and his own did as well as he realized the implication of what he’d just said.

“I mean, if you would like a next time?” he tried. “If that is agreeable.”

“Yes, absolutely! Er, sorry, that was loud, I mean—“

Jester slammed the songbook down on the table and aimed the remote at the screen and hit the combination for the last song of the night. Then she grabbed two mics, shoving one into Molly’s hands—who instantly accepted—and one into Caleb’s. A-ha’s Take on Me started filtering in through the slightly-fuzzy speakers under the monitor.

Caleb’s eyes widened.

“No, er, Jester—”

And then he saw Molly’s face. Those red eyes were looking back at him. Open, friendly, and only slightly pleading. There was a faint blush across his cheeks. His lips were parted in a slightly worried grin.

“Please?” he asked softly.

It wasn’t much. But for Caleb, it was everything.

He sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can keep up with you.”

Molly instantly beamed. His tail perked up behind him. “That’s alright, Mister Caleb!” he said jokingly. “Nobody can! But it’s the effort that’s always worth it.”

Bright green words appeared on the screen, and Molly locked his gaze onto Caleb’s and began to sing.

“We’re talking away. I don’t know what I’m to say—I’ll say it anyway, ‘Today’s another day to find you.’ Shying away, I’ll be coming for your love, okay?”

“Take on me,” Jester shouted happily into the mic, “take on me!”

“Take me on,” Fjord echoed, “take on me—”

“I’ll be gone,” sang Yasha.

“In a day or two!” crooned Nott and Beau together, and then the whole group looked over at Caleb.

“Er, er…” he began, and swallowed, and steeled himself, “So needless to say,” he sang, “of odds and ends, but that’s me, er, stumbling away. Slowly learning that life is okay…”

“Say it after me,” Molly jumped in immediately, “it’s no better to be safe than sorry.”

Take on me (take on me) Take me on (take on me) I'll be gone In a day or two.

“Oh, the things that you say,” sang Caleb softly, “is it a life or just to play my worries away?”

Molly shook his head, “You’re all the things I’ve got to remember. You’re shying away—”

“I’ll be coming for you anyway,” they finished together.

Take on me (take on me) Take me on (take on me) I'll be gone In a day or two.

And as the rest of the group ended the song, collapsing into a fit of giggles and cheers and drunken clapping, Molly and Caleb continued to stare at each other for just a little bit longer. And then they looked away, lowering their mics, faces blushing and eyes on the ground as the flashing technicolor light of the screen washed gently over them both.

[sweetlittlecaitlyn-blog]

In the Morning | Caitlyn

Cats can’t tell when their own is hungover. Can’t tell when it’s the weekend and there’s no reason to get out of bed early. Or if they can, they simply don’t care. Because after a long night of choking back tears and drinking alone in her apartment, Caitlyn still had to wake up, at the crack of dawn, too two high pitched meows, waiting to be fed. Her hand felt around her nightstand, looking for her phone as if they were her alarm. Of course it was dead. Still had to stumble her way into the kitchen, the world blinking in and out of existence, trying to get herself some water and some Advil before she screamed from the splitting headache she had. Caitlyn didn’t get drunk often, never found much good ever came from it, but she was never one to do something half-way. After she had chugged the water, she set to feeding her cats so she could get back to bed, the best cure for a hangover was to sleep through it.  

Still disoriented, Caitlyn grabbed two cans of food for Rosemary and Verity. She struggled for a minute to crack them open, but as soon as she did, she instantly regretted not reaching for the dry food, placing the can down and hunching over the sink to throw up her guts into until she was left dry heaving. Her own mistake, really. She let the water run until everything was solidly down the drain, before switching on the garbage disposal, flinching at the noise but knowing better than to let the smell linger.  Another full cup of water to try and get rid of the taste, before going for the open cans, nose plugged with one hand as she emptied them both onto dishes for the cats.  

Before she went back to bed, Caitlyn stopped by the bathroom, swishing around some mouthwash and splashing her face with a little bit of warm water. She grabbed her spa headband and pushed her hair out of her face.  With another cup of water ready for her to drink the next time she woke, and another dose of Advil, and her phone on the charger, Caitlyn slipped back under the covers. None of this was what anybody would guess from her. She almost liked it, in that sense.  She didn’t have to put on a smile, keep a positive attitude, be a friendly face for anyone. And Caitlyn wanted to get back to that being natural, she wanted to be as happy as she had been before she got relocated.  But working to that point was utterly exhausting. If it was even possible. Caitlyn had already resigned to keep everyone but her remaining brother at arm’s distance, she wouldn’t put anyone else in danger. It was the right thing to do, but it still left her lonely. She doubted that would ever pass, and that meant a big roadblock in feeling like herself. 

She missed Beau. She missed him everyday. He was the reason for this bender, indirectly. Just opened up her inbox for some questions, thought it could be fun. And then the whole focus was on her relationship with Beau. She couldn’t handle that. Thought she might be able to. It’d been so long. But she couldn’t. It broke her heart all over again. Of course Beau got his fair share too. That was almost worse, seeing his answers.She already knew what she’d done, and while she hadn’t had a choice the first time, hurting Beau the second time was entirely on her. She’d said horrible things to him. And she’d seen how much it hurt him then. Killed her, if she hadn’t been so angry at life she might have taken it all back right there, caved against her resolutions and told him everything. She knew what she had said had broken both their hearts at once. But after all this time, maybe she could hear him say it and be fine. It was just a fact after all. Caitlyn didn’t think, now, she was ever going to be able deal with how she and Beau had ended up. In another life, she saw herself loving him. 

She missed her brother too, which is why she was so damn resolved to stay away from Beau, despite how she felt. She couldn’t bring Andrew back. Couldn’t trade places, could do anything to save him. But Beau, she could protect. She was going to protect, even if that meant she was never really herself again. Caitlyn knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything ever happened to him just because he was important to her.  So it had to look like he wasn’t. That there wasn’t anybody important to her aside from her brother, and if he wasn’t already in the danger with her Caitlyn would have found a way to protect him too. She didn’t mind the loneliness if it meant that the people she cared about were safe.  It could be violent paranoia, but if there was a one percent chance that the people that had come after her and her brothers could find her than she had to take it as absolute certainty.

When she woke up again, it was solidly into the afternoon. The hangover had faded some, at least. Worth the trade of most of her day, in her books.  She grabbed her phone, powering it on to check the time. There were a few unread messages from Blake. Caitlyn groaned, of course she’d managed to drunk text somebody before losing battery.  At least it was Blake, he’d always been a friendly face. She didn’t need to avoid him all together.  Going to type up an apology for ghosting out of nowhere last night, a bit of dread set in as she read the last message he’d sent. ‘I hope it works out for you, I mean from what I remember Beau is pretty nice, so I'm sure he won't be a big dick about it’ About what? What had she done? Even drunk, Caitlyn didn’t think she would have turned and spilled everything. Yes, being near Beau again was eating her alive, but she knew better.  Taking a drink of the water she’d laid out, she scrolled up to the begin of the conversation, getting progressively more worried with every text she read. By the time she got to the first mention of email her stomach was in knots. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have.  It took her nearly three minutes to work up the courage to actually check her email. 

In reality, it probably took 10 seconds to refresh her email.  It felt like it was 10 years.  But there it was, shooting dread through her entire body. (1) Unread from Beau Rathbone. She was going to be sick again. What had she said? What had he said? He had to know she was drunk when sending it, she wasn’t a neat drunk that could pull off eloquent sentences. Her thoughts were always jumbled, and she made endless typos.  She hadn’t reached out to him since the first time they ran into each other, how could she? But this was the first communication they’d had since. Caitlyn went to her sent box, reading the message.  It was a mess.  Begging Beau to hate her, apologizing, saying how she’d been missing him extra. But she hadn’t said anything about why. Hadn’t explained. In a way, she was relieved. It was easier to stay away from Beau while he thought she had just up and left him without a word.  But any relief was gone as she went back to the inbox, slowly reading and re-reading Beau’s reply.

“I don’t hate you.” The sentence struck through her core, left her with tears stinging at her eyes. He needed to hate her, so there was no chance that she could cave and try to get him back in her life. But more than that, it was the best thing she’d heard in so long. The first thing to make her genuinely happy to hear in months. Despite knowing that it changed absolutely nothing, that she needed Beau to hate her, just seeing it written that he didn’t hate her had her feeling more like the Caitlyn she wanted to be than she had since she’d lost Andrew. The first tear to fall burned down her cheek, she could swear it had left a scar. “I thought that I was someone that could actually make you happy.” That set it off. Just how unfair this was to Beau. How much he didn’t know. What he was left to piece together.  That he was left to assume that he wasn’t what she wanted. That she’d left because he didn’t make her happy. Her chest shook as she cried, losing track of the time. Just curled her knees up to her chest, sobbing, trying to read Beau’s email again through blurry vision.

She had checked the time when she finally composed herself, simply because she couldn’t cry anymore, but it failed entirely to register with her. Nothing felt real, like it mattered. Everything she looked at was fuzzy, like she was viewing the world off-focus.  Wasn’t sure why, but somewhere along the way she had hit reply, just staring down the blank email,for a few minutes, before starting to type, just to get what she could out there, just something to stop feeling like she was for a moment. RE:RE:sorry. 

Beau-

I’m sorry about messaging you drunk. I know that was definitely not the ideal way to hear from me. Though, I’m not sure if there is an ideal way. I was pretty sure your ideal way to hear from me would be to never hear anything. But I can’t undo sending you that email. I’m a little more coherent now. But I might have lost the courage I had to hit send last night. I could fill a novel with the unsent message I’ve written you. A day hasn’t gone by since the first time I left Portland where you haven’t been on my mind. I miss you terribly. I wasn’t even allowed time to save a picture when I left. Lost my phone and my computer as well. I was terrified that one day I’d forget your face. I never did. And when I was allowed to go to back to Portland, seeing you was the closet to happy I had been since leaving. I know that’s hard to believe, given all the horrible things I said to you, how I treated you. I really am so sorry you ever met that Caitlyn. I was furious with the world, how everything had gone, the people I’d lost. I wouldn’t add you to that list, so I channeled all that anger towards you, in hopes you’d hate me and move on with your life and be happy. I regretted each word as it left my mouth. Learning now that it was pointless only makes what I did worse. And I’m sorry, honestly. You deserve so much better than that. I’d like to say I’m not that Caitlyn anymore, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. I’m still upset with the world and outright angry with fate. I’m still mourning my brother and I’m so unbelievably angry that I got such short time with you. But I’m trying not to be, anymore. I liked being the Caitlyn that was at peace with the world, that did her best to make everyone smile because there is enough negativity in the world. I thought she was gone forever, for a while. I’m still not sure. But it feels better to fake a smile than it does just to sink farther into this anger.

There’s so much about what happened with us that you don’t know. That I couldn’t tell you at the time, that  I haven’t now because it won’t change anything. Only has the potential to make this harder on both of us because nothing can change between us. I wish things were different, I wish we had met earlier in life, so we could have some real time together. I wish that you could forget who I am entirely, because I know I hurt you and you shouldn’t have to live with that. But wishing won’t change anything. Nothing will.  Not that you have any reason to, but trust me when I say you’re better off keeping me out of your life entirely.  I do want to clear up one thing you said in your reply. And it’s my fault you think that. When you said that you’re not saying you’ll be what I want, someone who could make me happy. You were always those things and more, Beau. Since before we got together, you were. But there’s more going on than you understand. What I wanted didn’t matter. I didn’t have a choice when I first left Portland. I can’t explain it, even if I could it doesn’t matter now. I just can’t stomach the idea of you thinking anything you did, or were was any reason behind this. You are one of the most amazing and genuine people I’ve ever met, if I wasn’t me I would never let you go. But this is the only option, no matter the explanation. 

I still don’t know if I’ll ever send this. But if I do, know this, you deserve the world, Beau. I hope you go and do amazing things, make your life so great, and let the memories that we share fade in the shadow of how wonderful your life is. I’ll always be hoping that for you. 

-Caitlyn

Sobs came as she signed her name, but there weren’t any tears left, just a hot pain in her lungs, a cracking at the back of her throat.  Caitlyn did even know what the email said by the time she’d finished writing it, just had let everything she could out.  There was no way she could hit send, she knew better. Knew what she should do, just save it to her drafts and leave it at that, maybe Beau wasn’t even expecting a reply. But this was the closest to closure either of them might ever get, that kept her lingering on the email for way too long.Throwing back what ifs, weighing pros and cons, debating with herself. She knew better. Caitlyn had already messed up more than once in the last twenty four hours, this would just be the icing on top. But her thumb didn’t move from hovering over the send button as she tried to gather herself. Beau deserved something from her sober, at least. This could be the end of it all, the definitive end of them having anything to do with each other, aside from acknowledging the other as an ex. Caitlyn wasn’t sure which was worse, if she was being honest. 

It came down to a chance, Caitlyn switched on the TV, if a show was playing, she’d send the message. If it was a commercial, she’d add it to her long list of drafts to Beau. As soon as she saw Brooklyn 99 on, her finger fell on the button before she could pull back on the decision she’d made. Caitlyn dropped her phone on the bed, switching off the TV and going to lay back down. There was no going back. Whatever the consequence were, she would take them on after she woke up. She had barely stopped shaking as she slid back under the covers, closing her eyes, and hoping she could dream of something better than this.