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i4bellingham · 2 years

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Ugh, pt 2 for the choice!! Maybe when she goes home and tells Jude what happened? (Here’s to hoping she comes to her senses and sticks with him)

THE CHOICE part two : jude bellingham x reader

part two to this jude fic right here !! + not proofread !!! and can i just mention how my fondness for musiala and bayern grew basically a ton since i last posted a fic ?? like i've been rewatching games that i missed and have been binge-watching their entire content in youtube like ???? bruv i need to calm down

Everything was a blur.

A series of images flashing by your eyes in a fuzzy memory.

One minute you were answering your phone, mumbling a hurried “I’m on my way back home,” before you're wrenching your car door open in a frenzied state just to get away from Trent’s grasp.

You can faintly remember him calling out for you, a soft grip on your wrist as he tried to pull you back to him but you prevailed, an angry set of muttering leaving your lips before you now find yourself in front of your home.

Jude’s car is parked just beside you, signalling he's probably home now after hearing the shakiness and stress in your voice during the call that didn't even last for a mere minute.

The engine was already shut but you still remained stationary inside the warmth of your vehicle, with your thoughts running in crazy directions inside your head.

Jude is not aware of what truly transpired between you and Trent, and although you feel like he's got the gist of it, he doesn't know the entire thing that went down.

You feel like an absolute shit. Both as a person and as his girlfriend. You knew you should've told him everything before you said ‘yes’ to his question of being his girlfriend, sure you might hold some residual feelings for Trent and they're not as strong as the one you hold dear for Jude but the thing is, there is still a remainder fondness for the guy who you should have never let cross boundaries with you like that in the first place.

And worst of it all, Trent kissed you not even a full hour ago and you weren't there fully in your consciousness to stop it.

You don’t want to tell Jude and hurt him. But either way, you know there is a possibility that you'll end up doing just exactly that if the secrets and lies keep on piling up.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips at the thought. You really really don’t want to hurt Jude. It's the last thing you'd want to do especially to him but if you truly want to move past this stage, not just for your own self but for your relationship as well, you knew that coming clean to everything is the right thing to do.

And that's exactly what you're about to do.

The unmistakeable pounding in your chest and the clammy palms you wiped a few times over your shirt made breathing normally a tad bit challenging for you.

You take another deep breathe before pushing the door to your home open, immediately being greeted by the soft savory smell of a familiar dish you loved.

As you emerged from the hallway, you notice Jude on the open kitchen right away. There are drying pots and sauce pans on your sink, to which you presumed he used when cooking. The man himself was busy wiping down your marble countertop and mouthing the lyrics to a song playing in the background to notice your arrival.

In the dining table, two plates of your favorite pasta dish, a box of your favorite pastry and a bottle of your go-to non-alcoholic drink sat.

The temptation of punching yourself straight in the face was more than just a reoccurring thought. The guilt and anxiousness the brewed in the pit of your stomach made you want to throw up.

You could lose Jude after this.

There is a possibility that you'd lose him after this.

But you knew that he deserves to know the truth, for the entire thing even what happened tonight.

You're not certain how he'll react to it and you know losing him was feasible at this point. But if you have to beg on your knees to keep him, to make him stay, you will. If you have to endure a lot of things in order to keep him, you will go through them painstakingly.

Because you can’t lose the only man who showed genuine care and love for you. You can never get back up if you lose him, not after he picked up the only remaining fragile bits of you. Most importantly, you certainly can not let the man you love go even if it means not having some form of connection with Trent after this entire dilemma.

Slowly and silently, you walk over to where Jude was.

You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face against his back feeling him jump at the sudden motion.

“Bloody hell- love!” Jude sighs at the sight of you, turning his entire body around to properly face you before he encircles his own arms over your shoulders. “You scared me! Do you want to give me a heart attack or something?”

He plants a kiss on your head, brows wrenching when you remained unresponsive.

“Surely you're not upset you didn't give me that no?” He jokes, almost making you cackle had the weight of this entire situation not been dragging you down. Jude shakes your shoulders, slightly pulling you away from him to take a look at your face. He immediately sees the tears pooling at your lash line, and with this he grabs you by the shoulders before pulling you with him on the couch; the food on the table he'd cooked all forgotten.

He sits you down on the couch before crouching in front of you, cupping your face on his palms.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt? You were at Trent’s right? What's wrong? Did you guys fight-?”

“Jude.”

Sensing the seriousness and dread in your voice, Jude fixes his stance in front of you as he anticipates for the next words to come out of your mouth.

If you had a choice, you would take some time to collect your wits. Maybe spend a day with just yourself and think everything that you needed to tell him through. Just to settle down everything you wanted to confess to have your thoughts enunciated clearly in the manner that Jude can understand better.

But you don’t have that opportunity as you sat now, mouth opening and closing for a couple of times before you're being instructed by your boyfriend to breathe.

And take a deep breathe you did before the words came tumbling out of your mouth in a succession of how the events took place.

You told him about your feelings for Trent, what went down during the New Year’s eve and how your supposed best friend acted during his own birthday. You told him about how incredibly grateful you are to find him as a friend, before that title was ultimately changed into being your boyfriend. You told him about how you didn't want to lose him and everything you both got, not even in exchange for a future with Trent. You told him about your lingering feelings for Trent, one that he shouldn't worry about because you know they're only there and existing because you still care about him and the memories you had together. You told him about what happened during your visit at Trent’s tonight, how his friend and your best friend had kissed you and how you weren't able to push him fast enough because you were shocked and in disbelief. You told him everything, not leaving one single thought and memory behind, all the while gripping onto his hands that grew loose the moment you mentioned about the residual feelings you still hold for Trent.

Jude was silent the entire time you rambled, now hanging his head low as the space between you two grow silent.

He was still crouched down in front of you, but the hold on your hand had loosened incredibly that made your worries grow tenfold.

You know the thought is still a possibility, with the entire thing being let out in the open and susceptible for him to know of and understand, you know he could potentially break things up with you.

And the thought scares you more than you let on.

“... Jude?” You grip onto his hand harder, lightly shaking his wrists. “Baby please talk to me...”

But he doesn't.

Not straightaway at least.

When Jude removes his hands from your grasp, you almost felt like your entire world collapsed from that alone, thinking that everything was gonna be over for you and your relationship and the reprimanding thoughts spread wide inside your head, thinking that you deserved every bits of it if it did came down to having Jude break it off with you.

You wanted to breath a sigh of relief when he instead moves to sit down beside you, an arm's length of space dividing you both.

But you don’t. Not until he says something anyways, even if you're gonna be on the receiving end of his harsh remarks and accusations, you'll gladly open your ears to accept them.

Jude swipes a thumb over his lips, eyes fixated on the carpet underneath the coffee table as he speaks.

“Do you still love Trent?”

“Not in the way you think I do, but yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before? Everything that happened?”

“Because Trent and I swept it under the rug ourselves. That night you and I met at the party, Trent and I didn't really talk and meet up after that. We only started communicating back when we began dating officially and the whole thing kind of was just forgotten... until tonight.”

Jude takes a glance at you, seeing the pout in your lips and the tears that gathered once more on your lash line. “Why didn't you tell all of this to me by your own then?”

You grow silent at this for a few moments, fingers swiping underneath your eyes before a shaky breath leaves your chest, fingers fiddling with the loose ends of your shirt as you recollect yourself.

“Because I’m scared.” You whisper, shoulders sagging. “I’m scared that you'll leave me the moment you find out about my history with Trentㅡnot that it's impossible right now anyways but I’m just scared... I was scared that I’ll lose everything we have and that I'd lose you because of this. So I kept a tight mouth about it thinking that I’ll tell you everything once Trent and I talked, but obviously shit went down tonight so here we are.”

Jude didn’t show any reaction as he listened to your explanation, just sitting still on his spot with a nonchalant face that gave you no leeway to gauge of his thoughts.

Knowing how extremely expressive your boyfriend is regardless of the situation, this sight of him with a deadpan face on just concluded the thoughts racing through your head.

“... I feel betrayed and hurt.” He starts off, eyes meeting yours for the very first time since you've done your ramble. “I had an inclination of what happened between the both you, just that I thought you'd liked him and he didn't reciprocate the feelings or whatever but I didn't know you guys hooked up-”

“We made out a couple of times Jude I swear to you that's all there is to that.” You chime in. You sit in front of him, taking his hands in your shaky, cold ones. “I’m so sorry for keeping this from you. I’m so sorry that it had to end up like this but I swear if I had known Trent would try something like that I wouldn't have gone to his house in the first place. Jude, please believe me. I would never intentionally hurt you... please, I don’t want to lose you.”

Globs of tears freely rolled on your cheeks as you drop your head low, voice turning into a mumble at the end of your sentence to stifle down the sobs that wracked your body to quiver.

“Please believe me... there was not a single time in this relationship that I lied to you. I would never lie to you Jude, please don't hate me-”

He'd never pinpoint what it is, but Jude thinks it's the amount of love and trust he has for you that made him pick you up from the ground and onto his lap, securing you with an arm around your waist and one over the back of your head, cradling you as you wept for forgiveness against his chest and wetting his shirt with your tears.

Love is such a fickle thing. One moment he was ready to pack some of his things, let the entire situation cool down and give you a moment and space to think about everything.

Jude did feel hurt, and upset and betrayed and angry. But he couldn't entirely shift the blame of how this night ended on you. He did have a clue of what your previous connection to Trent was, he knows he could've done something then to prevent it from spiraling out of control entirely but Jude himself was afraid.

What if everything you both had and built was from a foundation of lies? What if you still loved Trent? What if you were still seeing Trent behind his back? When he wasn't there with you?

But Jude wills himself to stop forming these kinds of thoughts; ones that places you in a bad light because if he's being honest, all he's ever seen and felt from you since you started dating was your genuine fondness and care for him. All he's gotten being on the receiving end of you attention was nothing short of your love shown in many different ways. You were always so lovely, so kind and so thoughtful of him that there's not a single day where he doesn't think that he got lucky to have you as his girlfriend. You've never once lied about anything except for when the playful conversation starts.

And your panic and anxiousness from when you answered the phone and when you got home was also enough for Jude to believe you. He's not gonna question if it's the right thing to do or if he's gonna regret doing this, all because he trusts you.

If Jude had diminished all of it the moment you told him the truth, he wouldn't even bother hearing you out for every questions that you answered with a worried gaze to him, as if you're anticipating for him to just up and leave through the front doors.

Jude kisses your hairline, planting a few more over your head. “It’s alright love, I believe you... it’s alright, I don’t hate you...”

But you don't stop muttering apologies against his chest, almost as if you didn’t hear him.

“’m sorry please don’t leave me... I’m sorry...”

Jude holds you close to him, not even minding the time and how late it had gotten since your conversation. Your cries had simmered down now and your pleas had reduced into a sporadic whisper. There is a huge wet patch of where your tears had drenched his chest, almost soaking the fabric through and through. The hold you had on his arm was still in the same tight grip as he's carrying you to your shared room, never once faltering in their firmness even as you slept in his arms.

Jude places you on your usual side of the bed, taking of your shirt, pants and shoes and replacing them with your go-to nightwear that's basically just an old plain shirt of his. He takes your makeup wipes from the bathroom, slowly and carefully wiping away the residue of any cosmetics before he's doing it two more times just in case he didn't get all of them in three tries. He also combs your hair, unknotting the matted parts from the cold air before letting it freely lay on your pillow.

Jude himself freshens up, changing his shirt and throwing the dirtied clothes in the hamper along with yours before he's sliding underneath the blankets with you, throwing an arm over your waist as you turn around in your sleep, wrapping a hand over his biceps and a leg in between his with your head against his chest.

Jude holds you close to him, laying wide awake on your bed as you slept soundly. There are no other thoughts in his head, but he knows the both of you needs to talk this through if you want the relationship to work.

Though he feels as though you're not the person he should be having the conversation with the next time. Jude had already heard your side of the story, it's only a matter of time before a confrontation between him and Trent happens too.

And if sensing that he's in Jude’s intrusive thoughts, your charging phone on the night stand lights up before it shortly begins to vibrate against the wood. And the name that used to be on good terms with Jude flashing on your screen now brought nothing but a knitted brows and a frowning face.

Jude reaches out to take the device from the table, unlocking it briefly before swiping the icon to the left, red button and ending the on-going call immediately. Jude doesn't waste any more of his time before he's sending a message to the contact number, and not long after that he blocks the contact off your phone too.

　　　　　　　　　　ㅡ

　　　　　　　　to: trent AA

　　　　　　　　　　　 3:06 am

nice try mate

some good friend you are

don’t contact my girlfriend ever again.

　　　　　　　　　　ㅡ

#☆ i4bellingham writes.#☆ jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years

Text

North To The Future [Chapter 9: A Long December]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: While “A Long December” was originally released by Counting Crows in 1996 (and is thus compliant with the 90s theme), the version I listen to most is Girlhouse’s cover from 2022. So maybe check that out. It is a bop!

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, a tiny bit of sexual content, Christmas with Momtini and Dadtini, Kimmie making a realization, Aegon making a drink, Appletini making plans, Trent making some killer pool shots, the Ice Fisher getting into the holiday spirit, please enjoy this nice little respite before the events of Chapter 10. :)

Word count: 6.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @hinata7346 @poohxlove @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @travelingmypassion @graykageyama @skythighs @lauraneedstochill @darlingimafangirl @charenlie @thewew @eddies-bat-tattoos @minttea07 @joliettes @trifoliumviridi @bornbetter @flowerpotmage @thewitch-lives @courtenbae @tempt-ress @padfooteyes @teenagecriminalmastermind @chelsey01 @anditsmywholeheart

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

You descend the staircase gingery, sheepishly. Your socks slip on the hardwood steps like tires on black ice. You’re trying to avoid your parents, but you can’t wait any longer to eat breakfast or you’ll be late for work. They’re bustling around in the kitchen: cracking eggs, chitchatting, banging plates and pans, cooing over Sunfyre, listening to an R.E.M. album that spins on the record player.

When you walk in, your dad is standing by the stove wearing the apron you got him for his 50th birthday. Pizza Slut, it says. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey, ladybug.”

“Oh no.”

“I heard you come home pretty late last night. And then you got right into the shower. Hmm.”

“Hmm!” your mom concurs joyfully.

Your dad nods to the pan he’s hovering over, wielding a spatula. “Salmon omelet?”

You sigh, defeated; and yet, you must admit, you love salmon omelets. “Yeah, sure.” You sit down at the table next to your mom. She’s drinking Earl Grey tea smokey with cream and reading a newspaper: Halle Barry is marrying a jazz musician, Puff Daddy’s Notorious.com is looking for a venture capitalist willing to invest $7.5 million in startup funding, a man was arrested in Times Square for threatening President Clinton, the Nasdaq composite index—fueled largely by the dot-com boom—could hit 5,000 by the end of 2000. You wonder what Aegon’s family is doing right now. Do outrageously wealthy people eat omelets and decorate Christmas trees? Do they hop from store to store in some glitzy metropolitan mall hunting for presents—KB Toys, the Disney Store, Hallmark, Bath and Body Works, Hot Topic, RadioShack, Claire’s, Wet Seal, Yankee Candle—before grabbing a late-afternoon snack at Cinnabon or Sbarro, maybe a smoothie from Orange Julius? Or do they just sit in their mansions under vast unsmiling portraits until they grow dusty and turn to stone: gargoyles, angels, lions bearing their fangs? Are they still human at all?

“How’s Trent doing?” your mom asks. “Still trying to get into the Forest Service?”

“As far as I know. But that’s not who I was with last night.”

Your dad sets an omelet down in front of you, along with a glass of orange juice and one of the same Flintstones multivitamins you’ve been taking since you were in preschool. Jesse used to give me those, you think randomly, recalling the reminders he penned in his clandestine journals. When he was around. When he was sober. Your parents exchange a wary glance. “Oh?” your dad ventures in a squeak, trying to sound casual.

You could lie, but you don’t. Juneau is too small for lies. People know each other too well, they bump elbows in grocery stores and bars and parking lots; they make overly-familiar small talk and inadvertently spill secrets. The last thing you need is someone teasing Trent good-naturedly about your supposed night of passion. He might be dumb, but if he ever gets all the pieces in his titan hands he’ll eventually figure out how they click together. “I was, uh, actually, uh…visiting Aegon.”

They watch you, faces frozen in forced, benign smiles. You pet the top of Sunfyre’s shaggy head with your left hand and stab a fork into the salmon omelet with your right. “Well, that’s great!” your dad manages. “He’s a nice boy, that Aegon. So Greek. And plenty sexy, as we’ve previously established.”

“Is he feeling better?” your mom asks politely, slurping her tea.

“Oh yeah. Much better.” It comes out way too enthusiastic, and hot blood floods into your face. Your parents chuckle…and yet their eyes are troubled, distant, though perhaps in different directions. “Just so you know, things aren’t really working out with Trent. I’m trying to let it fizzle so there isn’t any drama that makes things awkward or creates any…uh…bad blood, I guess. So if you see him around, definitely don’t mention Aegon.”

Your dad does a mock salute. “Got it, General Ladybug.”

“What are Aegon’s plans for Christmas?” your mom inquires. Your dad turns to her, but doesn’t say anything. “It must be difficult for him, being so far from home. Especially around the holidays. I would hate for him to be alone.”

Probably drinking himself into unconsciousness while watching Jingle All The Way and Die Hard. “I don’t know, that’s a good question. I should ask him.”

“He can spend Christmas here with us, if he’d like.” Your mom finishes her tea, sets the cup down on the table, fiddles with it. “We’ll have more than enough food. And we could find a few things to wrap for him so he has presents to open.”

“Now if that’s not holiday spirit, I don’t know what is!” your dad says happily; and if he’s bluffing, he’s good at not showing it. He kisses your mom on the cheek, resting his study hands on her shoulders. She smiles up at him.

You wolf down the last few bites of your salmon omelet, chew your vitamin, knock back orange juice like a shot. “Alright, I should get going, or I won’t be back in time to open the vet clinic at 9.”

“I can always hold down the fort for a few hours,” your dad offers.

“No, that’s okay. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to bother you.” I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to let you down. “You’ve earned retirement. Enjoy all the Judge Judy and Buffy The Vampire Slayer you can handle.” You pet Sunfyre and tug playfully on his ears. His tail wags at warp speed. “Are you ready to go home to your favorite person now? Are you excited?”

Your dad lumbers off into the kitchen. “Here, bring Aegon some breakfast too…” He piles a salmon omelet, a mountain of hash browns, and toast slathered with butter and strawberry jelly into a Tupperware container. You take it and glance out the window that faces the driveway.

“Oh, great. Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“The cow moose is out there licking the road salt off my Jeep. Can you get rid of her?”

“Again?! Okay, I’m on it.” He grabs some pots out of the cabinet and heads outside. You can hear him beating the pots together and shouting: “Goodbye, moose! You live in the woods, not the driveway! Goodbye! Au revoir! Adios, mooseachos!”

At the kitchen table, your mom laughs. She’s still tinkering anxiously with her cup. “Only in Alaska.”

“You’re really alright with Aegon coming over for Christmas?”

“Of course. I’d prefer it, actually. I’d rather know he’s safe. Not alone, not in trouble.”

“Even though he might end up passed out under the tree?��

She smiles: faint, tired, melancholic. “I’ve seen worse.”

When you let yourself into Aegon’s apartment, he’s dressed for work and self-medicating with a rum and Coke mixed in a cereal bowl; it’s the only dish he has that’s currently clean. Sunfyre bolts to him, barking wildly and jumping up to prop his paws on Aegon’s chest as you slide the Tupperware onto the kitchen counter.

“Hey, buddy!” Aegon cries, ecstatic. “I missed you! Yes I did! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?!”

“Where are you going?” you ask, scrutinizing him.

“Fishing,” he says simply, like this should be obvious.

“I don’t think you should be going back to work this soon. You just got out of the hospital.”

He shrugs. “I need the money.”

“I can give you money.”

“You definitely could, but I don’t want your money, I want my money. Besides, Trent won’t be able to protect my job forever. If I can’t work, Rusty will find someone else who can.”

“Trent,” you echo morosely, staring at nothing in particular.

Aegon downs the rest of his rum and Coke, then puts his bowl in the sink. He walks over to you, his oceanic eyes cautious, his lock of white-blond hair resting on his cheek. “What did he do to you? At dinner, I mean. Before you called me.”

You take his left hand and turn it over, studying the lines on his palm: past, present, future, all in a language you can’t read. You hesitate; you can’t decide what to tell Aegon. You aren’t sure what you want him to know.

“He didn’t hurt you, right? Or try to touch you in a way you didn’t want him to?”

“He kissed me. I pushed him off. That’s all.”

Aegon watches you, eyes severe and glinting. “That’s not all.”

“I tried to break up with him at the restaurant,” you confess. “First he acted like he didn’t understand. Then he got upset, offended. We agreed to slow down, but I’m not sure what he thinks that means. Maybe he’s planning a summer engagement instead of a spring one, I have no idea.”

“You made him angry.” Aegon’s voice is flat, entirely flat, like he’s battling to keep it that way. “I thought we agreed not to make him angry.”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, Aegon.”

“No no no, my bad, let me clarify, I’m not mad at you. I just don’t understand why you would be so direct about it. I’ve broken up with a lot of people without actually breaking up with them. You ignore, you deflect, you do the bare minimum, you are intentionally unappealing in every way…and then eventually they move on. That’s the way to go. That’s how you avoid confrontations.”

“I don’t want this thing with Trent to die a slow death.” Oh, perhaps a poor choice of words. “I don’t want to be with him, to even keep up the facade of being with him. I want to be with you. I want to be with you in every way, everywhere, all the time.”

Aegon smiles. He twists his fingers into your hair and touches his forehead to yours and then kisses you, softly and unhurriedly. As he pulls away, he gently bites your lower lip; his fingertips ghost across the front of your throat like a necklace, like a chain. You moan into him, unable to help it. “I won’t go to work if you don’t either,” Aegon murmurs.

“I, an eternally upstanding citizen, definitely have to go to work.”

“Man, fuck capitalism,” he says, and you laugh together.

Something occurs to you. “You didn’t wait for Kimmie to move on. You broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I had another candidate in mind for the extremely prestigious position of being my Juneau girl.”

You tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him again: heat, rum, memories from the night before. Lust stirs up in your blood like ancient silt in seawater. “Please be careful at work.”

“I will, Appletini. I will. Don’t worry. You’re always worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. There’s no point in that.”

“I think I’m just someone who’s doomed to worry a lot in general.”

He grins. “Yes. But I’m your favorite thing to worry about.” He lays his palm against your right cheek and kisses your left: quickly, lightly, like it’s routine, like he’ll be doing it every day for the rest of his life. “Have fun at the vet clinic. Saving all those furry little lives.”

“I’ll see you at Ursa Minor tonight?”

He winks. “I’ll be the one with the electric guitar.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You get stuck late at the clinic spaying Mr. Mark Morehouse’s Flemish Giant rabbit. By the time you rush through the front door of Ursa Minor—bells jangling, a gust of cold wind at your heels, patrons glancing over with vague interest—the band is already performing. Aegon is wearing his cuffed jeans, black combat boots, and, in a radical departure from his usual color scheme, a royal blue turtleneck sweater. He’s braided a section of his hair on the left side of his head and woven a single, small, blue-dyed rose into it. He gives you a subtle nod when he sees you come in, a sly half-smile. He’s singing a punk rock, up-tempo version of Counting Crow’s A Long December.

“I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving, now the days go by so fast…”

“Heyyy, bitch!” Heather greets you, raising her Sex On The Beach. Joyce and Kimmie are swaying together, brandishing lighters in the air: Joyce smirking and reluctant, Kimmie—a born groupie—shamelessly exuberant. You swing by the bar to get a Bacardi Breezer (blueberry, very good, one of the better flavors) and stand beside Heather. You gaze at Aegon as he strums his battered guitar, and the parallel strikes you for the first time. Aegon too is layered with imperfections: scars, marks, ink, demons with gnashing fangs and needlelike fingers that dangle past their knees. And yet what he gives to the world is so beautiful. And yet he is so goddamn miraculous.

“I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself to hold on to these moments as they pass…”

It takes you a long time to notice that Kimmie is watching you. Something clicks like a dislocated joint popped back into its socket; and that’s the way it’s always been with Kimmie, since she was a child, since she was a five-year-old chasing boys around the playground at recess. The hints pile up—a lot of hints, sometimes years of hints—until eventually there’s an avalanche of realization that hits and drags her under like a rogue wave. She sucks in a breath and her doelike eyes shoot wide open. You try to pretend you didn’t see anything, but that’s not Kimmie’s style. She pushes her way through the audience and grabs your wrist, hauling you away from the crowd. Heather observes this, slurping down her Sex On The Beach, trying to ascertain if you need reinforcements.

“What—?!”

“I didn’t know,” Kimmie says, like it’s an apology. Her eyes are pained and fearful, a deer bathed in headlights.

“You didn’t know what?”

“That you’re in love with him.” Her voice is reedy and trembling. She’s petrified, you realize. She’s afraid that I’ll never be able to be her friend again. Not a true friend, not a pure one. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I even asked you first. I never would have hooked up with him if I had known, never, never. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t like we had real feelings for each other—”

“Kimmie, Kimmie, it’s fine,” you soothe, rubbing her shoulder. She’s wearing a ridiculously fluffy hot pink sweater; it’s like petting a neon sheep. “I’m the one who wasn’t upfront with you. I didn’t think Aegon and I had a chance, so I was purposefully trying to avoid him, to avoid any feelings I had for him. It didn’t work out that way, but…yeah. Anyway. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“Oh my god, so you’re together? Like, together?” Kimmie blinks at you, shocked but not scandalized. You’re not sure it’s possible to scandalize Kimmie.

“We don’t really want everyone to know about it.”

“Oh, because of Trent?”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Maybe some of those genius professor genetics made it down the Plinko board after all. “Exactly.”

“Jesus Christ, he’d probably snap Aegon in half if he knew. Like a freaking KitKat bar.”

“That’s a mental image I didn’t need.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Kimmie swears, empowered by this rare, consequential responsibility.

“I really, really appreciate your discretion.”

“You and Aegon, wow…” She mulls it over, baffled. “So you’re pretty kinky too? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You should have told me! We could have gone shopping together!”

Shopping with Kimmie for fuzzy handcuffs and riding crops and, who knows, probably like vibrating butt plugs or something. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that. I will most likely never be emotionally prepared for that. “Boundaries, Kimmie. Honestly, I haven’t seen that side of him. At least not in my albeit limited experience.”

“Huh,” Kimmie says brightly. “I guess he’s in love with you too.” And then she trots off to rejoin the crowd. Boat #27 has concluded their performance and is accepting cheers of acclaim and complimentary drinks from their adoring fans. Joyce hugs Rob, climbing onto her tiptoes and giggling. Joyce!? Giggling!?!? You grab another Bacardi Breezer before heading over, raspberry this time.

“Hey, babe!” Trent booms when he sees you.

Oh god. Oh no. You shrink away when he throws an arm across your shoulders. Aegon watches this as he approaches, sipping a rum and Coke, eyes like blue embers.

“Right,” Trent groans, like it’s some grave inconvenience, like it’s some passing fad he has to endure. “I remember now. We’re taking things slow.”

The clique assembles by the pool table like battle-ready Power Rangers: you, Trent, Joyce, Rob, Heather, Kimmie, Aegon. “Someone should play!” you say, truly a master of redirection.

Trent flips his hair. “Obviously I’m down.” He looks at you expectantly. You ignore him, drinking your Bacardi Breezer and then pretending to drink it once it’s empty.

“Oh, you are going down.” Heather cracks her knuckles and grins, then picks up a cue stick.

“Battle royal!” Rob announces. Joyce sighs and pulls a fantasy novel out of her purse. Kimmie perches on the edge of the pool table: legs crossed, eyes roving, gold hoop earrings glittering under Christmas lights, seeking attention and drawing it to her like Saturn ensnares moons. A gaggle of bashful men appear out of nowhere to worship her. Dale’s stereo pipes out Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Dale himself is wearing a red Santa hat and yawning boredly into the back of his hand.

“I need another drink,” you say, and head for the bar. Aegon follows you.

“You don’t want a Bacardi Breezer.”

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.” He flags Dale over once you’ve claimed your seats. “Hey Dale, did you get the stuff on the list I gave you?”

“Sure did.” Dale sets an array of items on the bar: apple juice, lemon juice, florescent green apple schnapps, vodka, a single Granny Smith apple, a paring knife, a shaker halfway filled with ice, a small plate covered with sugar, two chilled martini glasses. “You owe me, though. Especially for the schnapps. I had to order a case all the way from Seattle!”

“Add it to my tab.”

“Which you’ll pay when? In 2023?”

“I’ll pay, Dale!” Aegon insists.

Dale rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem genuinely annoyed. “Sure you will.” He yawns again and ambles away to take the orders of some locals sitting at the other end of the bar. The thuds of his boots are heavy and slow on the hardwood floor, the same one Aegon almost died on nine days ago.

“What are we doing?” you ask, but you’re already smiling. You have a pretty good guess.

“We’re making appletinis,” Aegon replies.

“You knew how to make appletinis this entire time and never said anything?”

“Oh no, I definitely did not,” he says. “I found the phone number of a friend I met back in San Francisco and figured she might know. She’s a bartender. So I gave her a call and asked very, very nicely and sure enough, she had a recipe.” He pauses, contemplative. “I told her I was in Chicago. Just in case.”

Just in case his ghost manages to track her down. “Have you seen this friend naked?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” you say, and you find that you mean it. Aegon is here with you now, and that’s all you can ask for. Still, his commitment to relative honestly seems enduring.

“The answer is yes. But it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“Really, it doesn’t matter. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Yeah, you don’t look mad.”

You smile at each other, Christmas-light sparks in your eyes, alone in a crowded room. Well…alone except for Mariah Carey. “Anyway,” you prompt. “Am I getting a real-life appletini or what?”

“Let’s do this. Uh…” He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Okay. I think I know how it goes.” He adds apple juice and lemon juice to the shaker. He doesn’t measure; he estimates, splashing in a little at a time until he’s content. He caps the container, gives it a few vigorous shakes, then opens it again. He pours in the schnapps and vodka, then shakes again. “Cut a few slices off the apple, vet lady. Nice and thin.”

You do, four transparent crescent-moon slivers. Aegon rubs lemon juice around the rim of each martini glass with his ring finger and then dunks them in the sugar until the rims are covered in fine white crystals like snow. He garnishes the martini glasses with the apple slices, gives the shaker one last whirl, then empties the contents into the glasses: half for you, half for him. He hands you your introductory appletini and toasts his glass against yours.

“On three?” Aegon asks, and you nod, beaming. You count together: one, two, three.

Your first taste isn’t a tentative sip. You take a full, brave swallow of the vivid green brew. It’s jarringly sour, sticky-sweet, crisp and refreshing like springtime. “Oh, I love it!” you trill.

“It’s…uh…” He takes another investigative slurp. “It’s definitely appley.”

“You hate it,” you say, laughing.

“I don’t hate it,” he counters. “I like what it’s doing to you.”

You close your eyes, the sights and sounds of Ursa Minor fading away. You’re somewhere sleek and vibrant and new; you’re in New York City, you’re in Los Angeles, you’re in Las Vegas, you’re in San Diego. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling. “Sorry. I was teleporting.”

“Do you want the rest of mine?”

“Yeah,” you admit guiltily, and he slides his appletini over to rest by yours. You drain them both. “I’m like Jack Dawson. I’m the king of the world.”

“You’re very, very cute when you’re tipsy, that’s what you are.”

“My parents think you should spend Christmas with us. I think you should too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay. Don’t buy me anything fancy, though. I won’t be able to return the favor.”

“Sad impoverished homeless man gifts only. You have my word.”

“Hey!” Heather calls from the pool table. She’s waving her cue stick in the air. “I lost! I’m a loser! I got slaughtered by this jumbo-sized motherfucker! And you weren’t even here to witness it!”

“We should go over there,” you tell Aegon, and he steadies you when you wobble as you slide off the barstool. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. Now I have an excuse to touch you.”

“Dale, can I get some Chex Mix or something?” He tosses you a little blue bag from behind the bar. You miss it completely. It sails over your head and smacks into the floor. Aegon cackles hysterically, but fetches the bag. He even opens it before he hands it to you. Then you set off together for the pool table.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heather asks when you arrive, her eyes narrow.

“I like appletinis. I really like appletinis.”

“It’s December 22nd, the commencement of Capricorn season, and you are celebrating this momentous event with an uncharacteristic display of recklessness and frivolity? Inauspicious!”

“What did I miss? Besides your humiliation.”

“Flintstones vitamins,” Rob says, rubbing blue chalk on a cue stick. He and Trent are playing pool now; Trent is showing Kimmie and several of her sycophants, including Matt and Gary, how he can make a shot with his hands behind his back. Aegon circles the pool table, his hands in his jeans pockets, watching Trent reticently. “Childish and stupid or totally acceptable for mid-twenties adults?”

“Totally acceptable,” you declare, munching on Chex Mix. “I just had one this morning.”

“That’s what I said!” Kimmie cries. “They’re delicious. I could eat a whole bottle of them. I used to lie to my mom when I was a kid and insist she hadn’t given one to me yet so I could get extra. My high score was five in a day.”

“That can’t be good for you,” Heather says. “Wait. Maybe it explains some things.”

“A lot of things,” Joyce quips, turning a page in her book.

Kimmie defers to you, the foremost medical authority present. “Vitamins can’t hurt people, right?”

“Well, that depends on the vitamin.”

“Some can,” Aegon says. “The fat-soluble ones, because your body can’t flush them out as easily or something. Too much Vitamin A can really fuck someone up. There are people who’ve died because they ate a polar bear liver, which has, like, millions of units of Vitamin A. So if you ever happen to eat a polar bear, skip the liver.”

“You can overdose on vitamins?” Kimmie asks him, puzzled. “Like, vitamins can kill you?”

“Oh yeah, lots of things can kill you if you take enough of them. Too much Vitamin A can cause seizures and comas, Vitamin D can give you a heart attack, Vitamin E can make you hemorrhage out of your eyeballs and stuff. And it causes strokes.”

“Oh snap!” Kimmie exclaims in horror, thinking that perhaps she barely escaped with her life. Heather is thoroughly amused.

You look at Aegon as he passes by you like a satellite whirling around the Earth, a blinking light in suffocating darkness. He’s right, but he shouldn’t be. He hasn’t studied medicine. He hasn’t studied much of anything. “How do you know all that?”

He replies curtly: “How do you think?” And then he resumes his orbit.

Rob attempts a shot and misses. “Ha!” Trent says, flipping his hair, and then starts lining up his own. As he leans over the pool table, he asks you: “So, where were you last night?”

Your mind, already hazy, goes useless. Cold sweat bubbles up out of your pores. “What? At home.”

“No you weren’t.” His eyes are on you like a wolf’s, like a beast’s. “I called the house. A couple times, actually. I felt weird about how we left things and wanted to apologize. But no one answered.”

“Oh, sorry, I mean I was at home, but then I went to go bowling with my parents.”

“No you didn’t.” Trent’s cue stick hits the striped red ball, number 11, and sends it hurtling into a pocket. “I already asked Dale. He’s in the bowling league, and he said you weren’t there.”

Two lies. And I don’t have a third. You stand there helplessly, surrounded by Christmas lights and tinsel and pine trees, your thoughts churning slowly, slower, dragging to a full stop. The chatter around you dies down. Wide eyes dart between you and Trent. Joyce closes her book. Even Dale is peeking over from the bar. His face is crisscrossed with lines of disapproval, of fascination.

“Where were you, huh?” Trent takes a step closer. He’s huge. He’s so fucking huge. Aegon picks up the black 8 ball off the pool table; no one else notices but you.

“Trent,” Heather scolds her brother, stunned. “Take a chill pill—”

“Where were you?!” Trent demands.

You try to conjure up an excuse, any excuse. All you can think of is how badly you don’t want to end up at the bottom of an ice-covered lake. I can’t die, I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t been anywhere yet. I haven’t seen San Diego.

Trent begins one final time, still clutching the cue stick, his voice deafening: “Where were—?!”

“She was with me!” Kimmie bursts out, and everyone spins towards her. “I, um, I was upset. Devastated, in fact. Because of, um. Boy problems.”

Heather titters nervously. “What else is new.”

“So I called and I was an absolute blubbering mess on the phone and she offered to come over and hang out. Watch Buffy with me. Do my nails and stuff. It’s really embarrassing.” She smiles at you, a soft glowing smile. “Thanks for trying to keep my secret.”

“No problem, Kimmie,” you reply shakily.

“Oh, babe!” Trent says, his face splitting into a smile, pressing a hand into the small of your back. He even flips his hair in that simpleminded, horselike way. He can’t be the Ice Fisher. He can’t be…right? You flinch when he touches you. On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon rolling the black 8 ball back onto the pool table. “That’s all?! You should have told me!”

“It really wasn’t my situation to share.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” Trent seems to mean it. “I’m really sorry. That was a dick move, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hulk smash?” Rob says, and there is laughter, quivering with fresh relief.

“I think I have to go,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “I’m really not feeling great.” And that part’s not even a lie. “I shouldn’t have mixed Bacardi Breezers and appletinis, I’m a total lightweight. And I have work in the morning. I’m supposed to vaccinate like ten of Mr. Campbell’s reindeer.”

“You want me to drive you home?” Trent offers.

No! Definitely not! “Thanks, but I couldn’t bear to interrupt your pool game. Especially when you’re winning.” You can tell Aegon is looking at you. You intentionally don’t acknowledge him. And now you realize that you’re a little trapped: you can’t say you’re driving yourself home because you’re not sober, and you can’t say that Aegon is walking you back to his apartment because then Trent might murder you both right here in the middle of Ursa Minor, blood splattering the deer heads mounted on the wall, femurs and vertebrae littering the pool table.

“I’ll do it!” Heather volunteers. “I’m super not-wasted at the moment.”

“Um, well…”

“Come on.” She’s already going to get your parka off the coatrack. “I can’t in good conscience let you vaccinate those reindeer without a full night’s sleep.” You trail after her, powerless to refuse.

Out in the night-draped parking lot, you haul yourself—with some difficulty—into Heather’s Chevy Suburban. And as she turns the key in the ignition and begins defrosting the windshield, you tell her: “When you leave the lot, make a left, not a right.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Aegon’s apartment.”

“I’m…?” She gapes at you as it sinks in like an anchor through dark surf. “Oh my god. Oh my god…?!”

“Affirmative.”

“Oh. My. GOD.” She puts the Suburban in drive and, as requested, makes a left onto Main Street.

Sunfyre is delighted to see you when you arrive. He leaps, barks, pirouettes in circles, accepts copious scratches and Milk-Bone treats. You collapse onto the threadbare couch, and he stretches out on the floor beside you, his quiet snoring soon the only sound in the apartment. Your eyes blur, flutter, close up shop. Maybe twenty minutes later, you hear a key rattling in the front door.

Aegon walks inside, his boots dripping with snow. He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. “You alright, Appletini?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of woozy but I mostly just wanted to leave.” You consider him, wondering how to ask him the question that won’t leave your mind. It claws at the arched walls of your skull like a trapped animal, leaving streaks of blood where its nails were torn away.

“I don’t want to talk about the vitamin thing,” he says.

“I don’t want to talk about Trent.”

“Deal.”

He throws off his parka and boots, turns on the X-Files, and crawls onto the couch with you. You fold into him and he holds you, not hungrily, not asking for a thing. You freefall into sleep with your head against his chest, his heartbeat a distant roar like thunder.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Ice Fisher has left Juneau a Christmas present: Stephanie Nolan, his fifth victim. She was twenty-five years old, an avid knitter, a Blockbuster employee, mother of several adopted Himalayan cats, one of three sisters born barely a year apart. At least her parents still have some children left, you think. At least the pressure to make their sacrifices worthwhile wasn’t all on her. Your dad sneaks a few minutes of news coverage while your mom is in the shower. They’re replaying the press conference that Chief of Police Eugene Baker gave late last night on Christmas Eve.

“We urge all Juneau residents to remain vigilant. This is the time of year for celebrations and get-togethers, and we don’t want to discourage that in any way, but no one—and I repeat, no one—should be outside alone, especially not after dark. Ms. Nolan left her place of employment to take a ten-minute smoke break, and that was all the opportunity the killer needed. He is still out there, he is still dangerous, and no one is immune from becoming a target. If you have any information relevant to this case, anything at all, please call our anonymous 24/7 hotline at…”

There are camera flashes, uneasy clamoring, flailing hands of reporters begging to be called on. Your dad crosses his arms over his broad chest, his face grim. A reporter asks Chief Baker: “I understand that the Juneau PD has brought in FBI profilers to help them identify possible suspects. Can you share any new theories with the public at this time?”

“Well, there are a couple likely possibilities. The Ice Fisher might be someone who is new to the area, someone who arrived this past summer or early autumn. Residents should therefore be extremely wary of newcomers. However, it might be the case that the killer isn’t new to the area at all, but rather suffered some sort of destabilizing event—loss of employment, for example, or the death of a loved one—that triggered their otherwise dormant violent impulses. The last theory I’m prepared to share today is that the criminal now known as the Ice Fisher might have been active long before this recent string of murders. Some serial killers have been known to…to test the waters, so to speak…with murders that can be camouflaged as accidental or natural deaths. That’s a possibility in this case, and we are combing back through the department archives to see if there are any answers there…”

“I should go pick up Aegon,” you say.

“Ladybug…” Your dad stalls, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “I’m not saying that I think Aegon is the killer, because I don’t think he is. I know he’s not, actually. He doesn’t have much rage in him. He has a lot of other things, I believe, but not that. I’m just saying…you have to be careful. And he can’t keep an eye out for you if he’s passed out drunk somewhere. Do you get what I mean?”

“I understand, Dad. I’m careful. Really, I am. And I’m never running around town alone. If I’m not with Aegon, I’m with Heather or Kimmie or Joyce.”

“Or Trent,” he adds. He likes this idea; Trent might not be able to snap a murderer in two like a KitKat bar, but he could definitely crack a few ribs. Trent would be a great Mortal Kombat character. He could skewer foes with a cue stick, right through the eye socket. An icy shudder rocks down your spine.

“Or Trent.”

“Okay. Good.” He turns back to the tv, his eyes vacant, his voice low. “Just making sure.”

Aegon is dressed in his Christmas best: dark jeans, black Converses, his hair loose and wavy, a festive red sweater with Gizmo from Gremlins on it. You’ve opted for a more traditional Rudolph turtleneck. Sunfyre has a large red bow tied to his collar. The three of you ride together back to your parents’ house, the radio playing Celine Dion’s O Holy Night, one of the back windows rolled halfway down for Sunfyre.

Dinner is a reindeer roast, rosemary apple stuffing, potato gratin, homemade macaroni and cheese, and creamed spinach; dessert is Christmas cookies eaten under the tree. You open presents as a parade of classics play on the tv: Frosty The Snowman, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Year Without A Santa Claus. Your parents give Aegon cold-weather clothing like hats and mittens, which he accepts with great appreciation. He gives them a bouquet of blue roses and three bottles of red wine, only one of which he drinks himself. You give Aegon a refrigerator magnet from Caribou Crossings, a grizzly bear with a salmon caught between its teeth, something to join the rest of his collection, something to help him remember Juneau once he’s gone. He gives you a handful of seashells from San Diego that he’s been carting around in his luggage for a year. Everyone gives Sunfyre Milk-Bones.

When Aegon takes the golden retriever out to the backyard, your dad goes with them. You can see them talking out there as snow falls and the sun sets and the horizon is inked with violet and gold, the wind whipping fiercely: Aegon’s hands moving in wild, dramatic gestures, your dad nodding along. They’re gone for so long you start to worry, your fingers trembling as you and your mom play chess with the new set you received for Christmas, not black and white but pet-themed: one side dogs, the other cats.

Your dad comes back inside first. He shuts the door and says to you, not accusatory but merely intrigued: “I didn’t know you were serious about wanting to travel, ladybug.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. One day. When I’m retired, I guess. Doesn’t everyone want to travel?”

“Huh. Aegon made it sound a bit more urgent than that.”

He watches you defeat your mom in chess, makes her some mollifying Earl Grey tea, and then offers to play Scrabble with her, a proposition she can never resist. When Aegon brings Sunfyre back inside—the sky fully dark now, the stars rising behind the veil of clouds—you lead him upstairs to your room. You sit on your bed together and flip through your travel magazines, scenes of Paris, Cairo, New York City, Rome, Tokyo, Cape Town, Buenos Aires, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, Sydney, Las Vegas, Cusco, Athens, Mexico City, Nairobi, California.

“It’s strange,” Aegon says. “Your parents like me, but they also kind of don’t like me. It’s as if they’re afraid of me. I can’t figure them out.”

You think of the cardboard box under your bed, the one full of Jesse’s journals. “My mom was married before. Vince is her second husband.”

Aegon looks over at you, attentive but not understanding. “Okay.”

“I was five years old when they got together. So Vince is my dad, but he’s not…like…he’s not biologically…well, you get what I’m saying.”

Aegon closes the magazine he’d been skimming, still looking at you.

“My mom’s first husband was named Jesse. And he was…from what I understand…he was a lot like you.” You tap your index finger against the crook of your own elbow so Aegon will understand. He was brilliant, but he was an addict. He was a blessing, he was a curse.

Aegon nods slowly. “I guess that explains a lot.”

“I probably should have told you sooner. But I’ve never really told anyone.”

“What happened to him?”

“He drowned in the channel. Maybe it was an accident, maybe suicide. Maybe it doesn’t matter which one. Maybe there isn’t much of a difference.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aegon says, his voice quiet and gentle.

“I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“It won’t. I told you. I’m not that easy to kill.”

You wonder if Aegon has become a ghost to his family, if he haunts the Targaryens like Jesse haunts you, half-comforting, half-heartbreaking, if after six long silent years his shadow still lurks in corners and doorways. You wonder if a ghost is really so far from what you are. “I want to stop feeling like a potential person, to stop waiting for the life I’ve always dreamed of to drop out of the sky. I want to feel real.”

“You’re real to me.” He dusts his thumbprint across the curve of your cheekbone, flesh and blood that sing to each other. “Listen, we’ll go to San Diego together.”

“Don’t, Aegon.”

“No, I mean it,” he says. “Give me a month to save up, and we’ll go. We’ll take a long weekend and fly down there. It won’t be hot enough to swim, but it’ll be warmer than here. Sixties, sunny, sandy, waves and tacos. We’ll stay somewhere with a waterbed. Those can be a lot of fun.”

“Careful. I might not want to leave the hotel room. What a waste of a trip that would be.”

“I’ll just have to make sure you’re bored of me by then,” he purrs, grinning and mischievous, dragging you into his lap. He smooths your hair back from your face, gazing up at you as you straddle him. He kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck; his teeth skate across your skin without biting down, without leaving indigo bruises of ownership. Slowly, he turns solemn and hushed. Slowly, you begin to worry about him.

“What, Aegon?”

“You’re the best present I ever got. I hope you know that.”

You whisper through his windswept white-blond hair: “Then open me.”

He lays you down on the bed, unearths your needful bare skin and stifles his moans against your throat, unravels you like a blood-red ribbon from a box heavy with secrets.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader

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underratedandoverit · 1 year

Text

Immortal Fears (4/?)

The International title has the power to make you question so many things; yourself, your relationships, everything. It makes you believe the only thing worthy of it is you, and vice versa. It is believed that holding it will have… Maddening consequences. Is any of it true? Is this just mind games played by your opponents instead, to get under your skin, to make you think losing the title to them is worth it? But is the current champion Orange Cassidy willing to take such a risk…?

Tags: Kip Sabian/Orange Cassidy (future). Hurt/comfort (eventually). Title Belt Corruption Arc. Enemies to lovers. Slow burn.

Best Friends/Chuck & Trent and Penelope make frequent cameos. More to be added.

On AO3 here

Oh babes we are just getting started with this. Also swapped around few of the tags. We officially have a relationship promised in the later stages of the story, as well as the revealing tags of 'enemies to lovers' (thank you bugs i didnt even think about this one personally for some reason) as well as 'slow burn'. Gonna drive myself into early grave with this one I'm sure LOL (im also aware theres a lot of danhausen in this chapter but im not putting him on the character list since im not sure if/when he would return after this one so.. yeah)

Credits for the babe @ss-trashboat for the beta and my beloved @midnightpretenders0 for brainstorming this whole arc with me, it means so much to me 💜

@stormbornpirate as you wanted to be tagged for things!

----------------------

Kip smiled to himself, watching the events replay on the television screen in front of him. It brought him an unimaginable amount of joy to see everything unfold again and again as he kept rewinding and rewatching the clip. It was all just like he had hoped things would start to go down with the Zestest of Friends, and then some. After the last couple of weeks, this was inevitable; one of them was going to crack and start something, a chain of events, that in the end none of them were going to be able to stop.

He watched as Danhausen blind tagged himself into the match, just as Orange Cassidy was preparing the Orange Punch to put away their opponents. Cassidy backed into the corner as Danhausen ducked inside the ring through the ropes, even Kip being able to read the disappointment and disbelief on the stoic face of the champion. He was more than capable of taking this match home, he had set their opponent up perfectly for a single punch to take him down.

But no. No such easy victory was allowed. Danhausen was in the ring now, the legal competitor, ready to take the win and glory home with whatever trickery he had up his sleeve. The man radiating with confidence posed as he stepped inside the ring, ignoring the confused mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd as he turned to Cassidy, who had just now completely stopped to lean into the corner, starting to shoo him out of the ring, saying that he got this.

Cassidy just stared back at him, hand wiping through his hair, Kip mimicking the movement perfectly as he watched. He could act along this part beat by beat, bit by bit by now; he had watched the replay so many times, it brought him just as much joy with each rewatch. The way Cassidy refused to move, clearly getting under the skin of Danhausen who started to yell at him, telling Cassidy to go away, saying that he had this match won.

Only for Dante Martin to regain his composure while this was going on, and rolling up Danhausen with an easy school boy pin for a three count.

Kip’s eyes lit up, yet again, no matter how many times he had seen this part, as the camera panned from the shocked Danhausen being released from the pin to the unamused champion, still standing in his corner, staring down at him, having done absolutely nothing to even try to salvage the situation and save the match for them. Cassidy locked eyes with him, Danhausen getting up as Top Flight took their quick exit from the ring, continuing their victory celebration on the ringside.

“What have you done?!” Kip mimicked the words with his own mouth as Danhausen proceeded to yell at Cassidy, his higher pitched voice very clear over the noise the audience was making for the winners of the match. Cassidy barely shrugged, continuing to lean into the corner, clearly not in any hurry to leave the ring. Whether he was standing there to resolve the conflict was questionable though, as he clearly didn’t have anything to say back to the man covered in demon makeup and tattoos.

He just continued to silently stare, Danhausen giving him a push to the shoulder.

“We just lost! Are you proud of that?”

Cassidy continued to respond to him by not responding, the smirk growing on Kip’s lips as he remembered what was going to happen next. He had lost count on how many times he had watched this part already, but it tickled him in a particular way every single time. Something about Danhausen shoving the champion, this time directly on his face instead of the shoulder, Cassidy finally standing his ground against him as he pushed away from the corner, forcing Danhausen to back away from him, looking ever so slightly shocked by the sudden push back.

They stood toe to toe in the middle of the ring, Kip watching in gleeful anticipation as they stared each other down for a moment, finally Cassidy being the first one to avert eye contact. He was clearly already tired of this, not wanting to engage further, this being far from the first time Danhausen was causing havoc like this inside the ring while they had been tagging together recently. He was just done with it, exhausted from the match now that he could let his guard down as it was officially over. Cassidy didn’t want to have to deal with this right now.

Only for Danhausen to shove him away, taking advantage of his small moment of what seemed like weakness, throwing the hands up towards Cassidy, pointing, cursing him.

This time the crowd's boos were clear, people not liking the idea of this ghoul putting a curse on their beloved International champion. Soon their voices changed again, as the now fed up Cassidy slapped his cursing hands away from his face, being obviously not amused by such trickery. He wasn’t here to play these stupid, mindless games that Danhausen clearly wanted; he knew the “curse” was nothing but a made up threat to throw off their opponents for a surprise attack. It wasn’t actually going to work on him, and he was tired; he wanted this over with. Cassidy just wanted to get out of here already now that the official match was over.

What he did not expect or see coming though, much to the absolute glee of Kip, was the kick below the belt from Danhausen that he responded with to the physical contact from Cassidy.

Kip watched as Danhausen towered over the champion as Cassidy fell to the mat, his yells this time being covered by the loud booing of the crowd. They soon changed back to cheers as the remainder of the Best Friends came running down the ramp for the champion’s aid, Chuck taking to tending to Cassidy as Trent managed to chase the accursed ghoul out of the ring.

“Oh, Clementine,” Kip sighed, hand reaching towards his screen as it zoomed closer to Cassidy’s pained face as Chuck helped him sit up in the middle of the ring, Kip gently running a finger along the blond’s cheek. “If only you could choose your friends a bit better. You could be golden.”

He only pulled his hand away as there was a soft tap on his arm, making Kip turn to face Penelope as she smiled at him. “It’s time. We can go now.”

Kip nodded, pulling her closer for a brief peck on her lips, before allowing the woman to walk him out of the locker room after herself.

-------------------------

“’Hoping dear Clementine learns something from this experience.’”

Chuck glanced up from his phone, only to be met with an unreadable expression and an annoyed look, from Cassidy and Trent respectively. The social media world was constantly pinging all three of them about what had occured tonight, and it was getting ridiculous at this point as it just kept going as the night progressed. Like his friends, Chuck had ignored most of it, until a very attention seeking notification from, once again, Kip had popped up on his phone.

“Just put it away,” Cassidy sighed, clearly not in the mood to be dealing with the Brit’s shit tonight either. While Kip had not been at ringside for tonight’s disaster, Cassidy was sure he could still find a way to somehow blame him for what went down out there. Enough weeks had passed by now where Kip had been cryptic and hinting at something; he wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest if it had been Kip who had gotten into Danhausen’s head about the desire of victory.

“So what do we do now?” Trent asked, looking between Cassidy and Chuck, both who responded with a directionless shrug. “We are a man down. Stat isn’t coming back until who knows when. Tonight was, shortly put, an absolute disaster. This ain’t a good look for us.”

“Yeah you don’t say,” Chuck snorted, pacing around the locker room trying to compose his thoughts. Him pacing around was making Cassidy even more annoyed honestly, but he remained quiet, just sitting on the couch observing the other man. Moving wasn’t still exactly comfortable; the assault from Danhausen had honestly been much more aggressive and painful than it looked like, the ghoul packing actually quite the kick in those skinny legs of his. Even with the help he got from Chuck and Trent, getting back to the locker room had been an absolute chore, and if it just could be helped, Cassidy wasn’t really going to be moving much tonight unless he absolutely had to.

Honestly, everything seemed to be kind of a chore recently. Cassidy wasn’t sure if it was the task of being a champion and having those responsibilities that above all pushed him closer to the edge every single day, but there was definitely something else going on alongside with the constant losing and infighting between his friends that was slowly grinding him to the ground. Cassidy wasn’t going to admit it though, after tonight it was the last thing they needed to hear. And who knew, maybe now that Danhausen was most definitely out of the picture at least for some time, they could catch a much needed breather.

Unfortunately, as Trent pointed out, this also put them in a disadvantage now that they were a man down. Cassidy already felt like a target in the locker room with one of the singles titles in the backpack on his shoulder, and if something, he was appreciative of having friends around to have his back at times. And a lot of people seemed to be avoiding Danhausen in general; he was unpredictable, and most described him kind of absurd and scary, so having him around as part of the group definitely had its benefits.

Now though, Cassidy wasn’t so sure how this was going to affect the image of Best Friends in the eyes of everyone else.

The sudden knock on the door immediately froze the air inside the locker room. The three friends shared quick looks, as if to try to count if they were all in the room to make sure nobody was missing, in an attempt to deduce who could be trying to get their attention so badly. Many people would try to avoid them after what tonight had been, knowing how much of a bad mood the three of them were in.

And yet, there was someone out there trying to get their attention desperately enough that they were knocking on the door multiple times in steady intervals.

Chuck cursed quietly under his breath as he approached the door, it being almost forcefully pushed open as soon as he flicked the lock off. Stumbling back a little, Chuck soon got face to face with Danhausen as the man burst into the room, almost immediately starting to hurl insults at Chuck, the first person in his sight.

From the corner of his eye, Cassidy saw Trent get up to defend his best friend from the assault of words, but the champion himself did nothing. The sudden yelling taking over the locker room felt almost paralyzing to him, freezing him on his spot on the couch, not being able to move, to get involved. Thankfully neither Chuck or Trent seemed to notice this, both of them being too busy trying to yell over Danhausen and the insults he was shouting, Cassidy barely being able to tell any of their words apart for the most part, but a few things Danhausen's almost piercing voice definitely managed to slip through to him.

Unworthy champion.

Filthy cheater.

Not a team player.

Selfish liar.

False friend.

With each statement he registered, Cassidy’s hand grabbed a tighter and tighter hold of his slacks; it almost felt like he could dig his fingers and nails through the thick canvas right into his skin if he kept going. His knuckles turning white as the yelling around him persisted, both Chuck and Trent joining in to defend him while the champion sat still, silent, eyes slowly falling down from the altercation happening to the floor.

Cassidy couldn’t lie to himself, he had heard so many of these same insults before. People didn’t think he was worthy of holding a title as big as the International one had turned out to be; they said he wasn’t fit for the Best Friends anymore due to being a singles champion. That his style didn't work, that he took this whole thing as a joke. That he wasn’t fit to be a champion; he was a farce, a mockery to the sport and the title he barely even carried around.

People had told him before that he was a bad friend for putting his friends through all of this: his selfish actions and thirst for gold, especially with how things had evolved recently; how he was putting them all under pressure, making them fight, how much happier everyone would have been if he wasn’t being such an awful friend to them and made them watch from the sidelines while he took all the gold and glory that the rest of them were not permitted to achieve, apparently due to some fault of his.

All these accusations, all these words, he had heard them before. And yet, it still stung the most coming from someone Cassidy had actually considered a friend.

As the fighting didn’t die down around him, Cassidy’s head snapped back up, in a clearly frightening manner as as soon as he locked eyes with Danhausen, the little ghoul perked up, taking a step back, actually falling silent. Chuck and Trent followed shortly after, both men slowly turning towards Cassidy as the champ just continued to sit on the couch, eyes staring daggers at Danhausen.

“Get out.”

His voice wasn’t very loud, but it was very obvious that he actually meant business. Cassidy was serious; this sudden turn in character leaving the trio looking at him in almost stunned silence for a while. Danhausen was the first one to speak up again, but he barely got more than a word out before Cassidy ordered again.

“Get out!”

Both Best Friends also stepped back slightly at the blond raising his voice, sharing a quick, rather confused look. Of course a little outburst would have been expected from the man after what had gone down tonight, but it was still so odd for them to actually see Cassidy like this. He didn't usually lose his temper quite like this, he never raised his voice. Even when he was seethingly mad, Cassidy was always just quiet, silent in his anger, letting it show only in the ring, if even then. He kept his emotions extremely in check at almost all times, unless they were positive emotions, so this kind of outburst really was… Something. To say the least.

As nobody responded to his demands, Cassidy pushed himself up from the couch, his voice only growing louder and stronger from the shot of adrenaline that crashed through his body as the pain took over after such a sudden movement.

“I said get out!”

Before Danhausen could argue with him again, Chuck turned towards him, grabbing the ghoul by the neck of his jacket, pushing him towards the door. Trent followed after them shortly, not being entirely sure if the command from Cassidy applied to all of them or only the now clearly former member of the Best Friends, but in his mind it was best to comply either way.

The anger he could see in Cassidy’s eyes was more than enough to push him out of the room, very much willingly.

As the locker room door slammed shut after the three of them, it took Cassidy a moment to dial back his emotions, finally the man sinking back on the couch with both an annoyed and agonized groan. Tonight had already been a lot, this wasn’t what he had planned for it at all. Taking in a deep breath, then another, he ran a hand through his hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. The cold canvas felt good against his hot neck, helping him refocus himself back into the time and space where he belonged.

Was he wrong for that outburst? Cassidy really wanted to believe not. He had been done wrong tonight, and after having such insults thrown at him, he honestly could have said and done much more, much worse than he ended up doing. He just wanted it to end, to sit around in silence for a while, to not ponder over how much his friends were breaking apart and hating each other.

And most importantly, how much they were probably hating him in the process as well.

Closing his eyes, Cassidy tried to calm his breathing, slowly feeling the pain returning to the parts that had been assaulted earlier. It was actually a welcomed reminder of reality to him, telling him that he was shutting back down, going back towards the normal.

He ignored the locker room door opening and closing, assuming it was just Chuck and Trent coming back in. Cassidy would have liked to have more time alone to calm himself down, but he also couldn’t really blame the two for coming back so fast to make sure everything was under control, as the situation at hand was very much unusual to even their little misfit group.

Cassidy slowly opened his eyes, staring at the blank ceiling above him, listening to the silence lingering in the room. Something about it felt off, like it was almost overstaying its welcome. He had known both Chuck and Trent for long enough to realize how uncharacteristic being this quiet was.

Lifting his head up from the back of the couch, he soon got his answer though, as Cassidy got face to face with Kip instead of his friends.

Immediately Cassidy’s breathing tightened again, him shifting in a clearly more alert position on the couch; even if the change was very minor, they were both very well aware that it was happening. Kip just observed him from a few feet away, the deer-in-the-headlights look on the blond’s face being almost amusing to him. Kip was aware he was distressed, it was very obvious, but at the same time he found this turn of events rather hilarious. Here was the usually cool, calm and collected International champion Orange Cassidy, who was almost suddenly spooked out of his skin by the mere sight of the silver haired Brit.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Clementine.”

His words weren’t very comforting, even if Kip was sounding rather genuine behind the ominous smile playing on his lips. Maybe the biggest giveaway for Cassidy about it was the fact that the smile didn’t reach up to his eyes; it was purely for show, merely a facade, lulling him into a false sense of security. This, of course, only made him more tense over Kip’s existence in the locker room as the man glanced around himself for a while as if he was looking for something, before pulling a chair out for himself.

“Relax.”

Cassidy wanted to laugh at him, but no sounds were coming out of him as he watched Kip take a seat on the chair he found, sitting down across from him. As he settled on his seat, Cassidy could breathe a bit easier, knowing it was more difficult for Kip to suddenly jump him if he so wished if he was not up on his feet. The suited man carefully unbuttoned his jacket, leaning his arms against his knees as he leaned slightly forwards, never breaking eye contact with Cassidy.

“I saw what happened out there tonight. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

This time Cassidy let out a quiet snort, getting a raised brow with a confused head tilt back as a response. He already knew Kip was playing games with him, this very obvious false statement just bringing that fact home even harder. At least his threatening, sudden presence was slowly fading away, leaving only the lying fool behind that Cassidy thankfully knew how to deal with. It was making him relax considerably, he was just hoping Kip wasn’t picking up on the fact too, giving him a chance to take advantage of it.

“Yeah. Right.”

Kip broke eye contact with him for the first time since sitting down, looking around the room quietly. “So you’re saying that you being here all by yourself, left alone by your friends…” Kip glanced towards Cassidy, watching the unease grow in him again as he was unsure where Kip was planning on taking this conversation. “This is normal?”

Cassidy didn’t answer. He knew the answer to this question, he knew Kip knew the answer to it too. He didn't have to say it out loud.

“You’re saying that this is you being okay?”

“…Why are you here?”

Kip turned back fully towards him, snorting. “I already told you--”

“No.”

His brows furrowed, Kip clearly not enjoying being interrupted like this. He leaned a bit closer to Cassidy, almost as a threat, but the man in denim barely budged; he had set his mind on this and he was tired of these games. He had been through enough tonight already to want to deal with this on top of everything else.

“Why are you really here, Kip?”

He sounded tired, clearly not being amused by the situation at hand. Cassidy wanted, demanded answers, and Kip playing with him and beating around the bush was becoming a worn out gimmick real fast. The Brit was caught slightly off guard by this, especially over the fact that Cassidy was addressing him directly by name, which really wasn’t a usual feat for him.

“You… You really don’t think I’m worried about you?”

His words were hesitant, but Cassidy could feel some sort of… Odd sense of genuinity coming from him at the same time. Kip’s previous smile had turned more into a confused frown, but again not in the sense Cassidy usually saw him when Kip was being put on the spot and questioned about his odd behavior.

No, this time actually seemed like there could almost be something real behind this one.

“You know, I’ve seen everything that’s been going down recently. We all have. I’ve seen how you and your friends crumble, bit by bit, and I’m worried where this is going, especially after tonight.”

Kip looked away, Cassidy being able to see almost a sorrowful look in his eyes as the man sighed, inhaling deeply before his next words.

“And I, too, know what it’s like to… To be betrayed by a friend.”

The silence fell back into the room, Cassidy just observing as Kip seemingly struggled a little to keep himself calm and collected, hands rubbing together almost nervously as he was trying to regain his composure. It was almost endearing to watch in a way; Cassidy was so used to seeing Kip keeping up the overly confident and arrogant exterior that seeing him almost look vulnerable for the time being was definitely something different.

Maybe he was actually being more genuine than Cassidy thought. Maybe.

Kip slowly looked back at him, cracking a smile that could only be categorized as melancholic. It was extremely brief though; Kip quickly pushed it away, letting out a dramatic sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, relaxing a little bit on his seat as he leaned back, arms crossing over his chest.

“You may not think it… But I do know how you feel. And unlike for me at that time, I want there to be someone for you when that happens. Because, and let's be honest here, let’s face it… It will happen.”

There it was again, he was back. The smirk grew on his lips slowly, Cassidy watching as right in front of him Kip slid right back into his confident character, as if the small moment of weakness he had shown didn’t happen at all just mere seconds ago. The Brit pulled himself together in record speed, anyone not having witnessed the change just now would have missed it all. To be honest, Cassidy wasn’t entirely sure anymore if he had seen it correctly either, but as Kip continued to talk in much of the same vein as before, he knew that something had definitely happened. Maybe it hadn’t been a moment of weakness, but something had definitely been odd, and it wasn’t Cassidy’s tired, overworked mind playing tricks on him this time.

“I just need you to know that you won't be alone. I will be there for you when you need me.”

He wanted to say something so badly, but Cassidy remained silent. Kip looked at him for a moment, taking in the expression that, for once, he wasn’t fully able to read on the blond’s face. Was Cassidy confused about this? Was Kip finally getting under his skin enough that he was stunned in silence by how sincere he was actually being? Did Cassidy believe him in the first place? Kip wasn’t so sure. Usually he was good at this, but right there and then, something about the International champion just made him… Unreadable, even to him. As much as that infuriated Kip, he let it slide. Maybe it was a sign enough that he had gotten through to the one Best Friend he cared about.

Kip pushed the chair back slightly, finally getting a response from Cassidy as he did so. As Kip stood up, Cassidy leaned back on the couch, eyes never leaving the other man as he did, but his exterior for the first time in a while clearly relaxed. Kip wasn’t sure if he was just happy that he seemed to be finally leaving, but he made sure to stop for a moment to button up his suit jacket again as he stood there, staring back at Cassidy, trying to hide his pondering behind a smile tucking at the corners of his lips.

“Why do you think I believe you?”

Kip looked at him for a while, but didn't react. Try as hard as he might to be as genuine as possible, it seemed he still had to work hard to actually get through to Cassidy about what he was after.

“Because you need me. Because you need a friend.”

“No, I don’t. I have friends.”

Kip smiled at him, shaking his head at the blond who fell silent again, just watching him.

“See… That’s the difference between you and me, Clementine; you are just living in a lie.”

Without saying any more or giving Cassidy a chance to respond, Kip turned on his heels, making his way out of the locker room, leaving the International champion sitting there alone in a rather stunned silence.

#fic: immortal fears #setting: belt corruption arc #ship: orangekip #ship: kippenelope #character: orange cassidy #character: danhausen #character: kip sabian #character: penelope ford #character: chuck taylor #character: trent baretta #i wanna put them in a snow globe and shake them. we're just getting started babes #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

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hjcoolartnerd · 6 months

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TDA Rewrite Episode 4: Beach Blanket Bogus

Previous Episode: Riot on Set

Recap Voice Over:

"Last Time On Total Drama Action.... He was a bou, she was a girl. And Last Week on Total Drama Action, a shocking team redistribution pitted them against one another. Our heroine made a fundamental romantic comedy error picking Duncan first and leaving her boyfriend Trent feeling kind of ouchie. Shockingly Ezekiel wasn't the last person picked for the teams thanks to Eric who persuaded Gwen to pick him over Bryan." Chris laughs "With Brothers like Eric who needs Enemies right? Meanwhile two men made an illegal alliance and Duncan's bad thespian skills Trumped Izzy's, well, madness. It was all too much for Chef's tender heart, and Izzy, uh, Kaleidoscope, was clearly a bit too nutso, even for this show. Will Duncan Break up Gwen and Trent's barely there relationship? Will Bryan gain an Ally against all odds? Will the new lock keep Owen out of the craft truck? Will Ezekiel get booted soon after avoiding 3 eliminations? Will my nonfat vanilla soy latte ever get here?" Chris glared at someone off camera. "All the answered... answered right now in another tear-jerking episode of Total! Drama! Action!" The camera pans back showing off the full film lot as the camera fades to black.

[Intro]

Dear Mom and Dad I'm doin' fine, You guys are on my mind. You asked me what I wanted to be and now I think the answer is plain to see, I wanna be famous.

I wanna live close to the sun, Go pack your bags, 'cause I've already won, Everything to prove, nothing in my way I'll get there one day. Cause, I wanna be famous!

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na! I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be famous (Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na!) I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be famous (Whistling in tune)

[End Intro]

The Camera fades back in right outside the Craft Services tent were Eric and Justin were meeting lucky for them they were alone. "Justin... I know with all this Million Dollar madness has been a bit.... draining that we haven't had Time to properly address what happened last season." Eric said in a low tone mentioning the fact that The two of them had kissed right after Justin made Sadie and Katie go into a cave. Justin looked at Eric with a smoldering gaze, his trademark charm oozing from every pore. "Eric, my dear, it's not the madness of the million dollars that's been draining me," he purred, a sly grin playing on his lips. "It's the electrifying tension between us that's been keeping me up at night." Eric let out a sigh, his voice tinged with regret. "Justin, since we arrived on this film lot, our interactions have been next to zero. And now, to make matters worse, we're on opposite teams." Justin flashed a dazzling smile, his dimwitted charm shining through. "Ah, Eric my friend, but isn't it true what they say? Absence makes the heart grow fonder... or in our case, the drama grow juicier!" He winked playfully, oblivious to the depth of Eric's concerns.

"I have to admit, sometimes I worry that maybe I'm not as focused on the game as I should be. But then I see Justin, and all those worries just melt away. How can I concentrate on strategy when he's standing there, looking as handsome as ever? It's like he's the only thing I can see sometimes, and I can't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world to have him in my life." Eric said with a look of concern flickering across his face before he returned to his usual lovestruck demeanor.

"Winning is everything in this game, and I'll do whatever it takes to come out on top. Even if it means manipulating my boyfriend, Eric." He paused, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "And hey, if I need to turn on the charm with Lindsay, Beth, or even Ezekiel to get ahead? Well, that's just part of the game, isn't it? Sorry, Eric, but in this competition, it's every man for himself." Justin chuckled softly,

After that interaction between the guys they went inside of to the Craft Services tent Eric went to do the line to get his slop of the day while Justin returned to his table , Eric Lined up behind Heather as Chef place brown slop on Heather's plate "Now I know how starlets stay thin?" She said disgusted with the food. Harold approached her "I wish Chef would let me in to the kitchen" he said looking at her "I got me some mad culinary skills" Eric raised his eyebrow as Heather looked at Harold "Do you mind? I was talking to my slop!" She told him as she walked away She took a seat and saw Lindsay and Beth trying to pick a table as they just flat out walked the other way Ezekiel following Behind her. She frowns as she looks down "This seat taken?" Bryan asked sitting across from her "Oh Bryan... Great" She sighed "You want to know what's your biggest problem?" He asked as He tried to eat the slop "Enlighten me" She crossed her arms "You did you evil acts in plain sight last season" Bryan said "As a Outside observer... You could have been a bit more down load with your plans." He added "and have a social game that way even if people did saw you as mean, they give you props for your good strategy" She looked at him "Oh really? how do you know?" She glares "That's my plan at the moment... but my team is completely useless..." Bryan sighed "Lindsay is so dumb! Beth is just a waste of a teammate, Owen is a farting machine that got lucky last season, Trent is a bad captain for the team he chose and Cody... also useless... I'm surrounded by loons!" He crossed his arms frowning his voice low. Before smile a bit "But I have a plan for today for my team..." He said "Oh do tell" Heather asked him crossing her arms "Well, I got to keep playing my goody boy act and have the team trust me but also be half bossy... We need leadership and I'm going to shape them into a better team. I did it in out high school basketball team i can do it here." He smiled proudly

"Honestly, talking with Bryan is just another reminder of the target on my back. Sure, we might share a similar exterior, but deep down, I can't help but feel like I'm constantly under scrutiny." She sighed, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe he's right about toning down the theatrics, but it's hard not to feel like I need to prove myself at every turn. With teammates like Gwen, Leshawna, and the rest of this sorry bunch, it's clear that I'm the one with the biggest target on my back." Heather paused, a hint of determination creeping into her tone.

"Playing the good guy act might not come naturally to me, but if it's what it takes to manipulate this team of misfits, then so be it." He shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sure, they might be useless in a challenge, but they're like putty in my hands. All it takes is a little bit of charm and a sprinkle of authority, and suddenly, they're following my every word." Bryan chuckled softly, his voice dripping with confidence.

Lindsay, Ezekiel and Beth sat with Justin each to his side as Ezekiel just sat across from Justin. Each girl had a plate, Lindsay holding Bacon and Beth holding Fakon. "Justin Look!" Lindsay called "I brought you bacon" She smiled at him "I brought you faken" Beth began "Tofu's good for you heart" She added "Pig is good for his hair!" Lindsay said "Holy crap! I love his hair!" He hugged justin "ladies, please. I accept both you offerings" Justin smiled smoothly and then looked at Ezekiel before smiling "Just staring at these three cuties around me is enough to get my fill of food" He told the three but his gaze was straight on Ezekiel. Ezekiel's face turned a deep shade of red as he squirmed in his seat, his shy demeanor evident as he tried to respond to Justin's compliment. "Uh, uh, g-golly, thanks, Justin. That's, uh, mighty nice of ya to say," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He fidgeted nervously with his hands, avoiding direct eye contact with Justin as his cheeks continued to burn with embarrassment.

"Uh, so, lately I've been feelin' kind of strange, you know? My face keeps gettin' all hot, and I can't figure out why. At first, I thought maybe I was gettin' sick or somethin'. You know, like a fever or whatever." Ezekiel shrugged, his brow furrowed in confusion his face red.

Justin began eating as The girls and Ezekiel stared at Justin. As He winked at them, which made Ezekiel almost choke and and Beth gasped and fell.

"If only making friends with a guy as gorgeous as Justin was as easy as making this friendship bracelets." Beth said playing with the bracelet that broke and she almost choked on a bead.

Eric sat with Duncan and Gwen as Trent poured salt on his eggs as the cap broke and lots of salt poured on it. Duncan laughed at it. "Ah, Sorry about the morning Assault!" He said laughing Gwen smacked Duncan "Thie grade called. You're due back in class." She smiled at him "Real mature. Don't you know it's bad luck to spill salt?" He grabs a bit of salt and tosses it back and it hits Heather on the face. She screams in pain "Nothing a little pepper won't fix" He tried pouring pepper when it does the same Hehe grabbed spinch and tossed it back hitting heather again as she begind sneezing like crazy and runs off creaming and sneezing. Duncan walked to Trent's table laughing "Are you still gonna finish those eggs, bro?" He asked as he took a bit of Trent's egg. going from 9 to 8 bites. "Are you Nuts! Now I only have eight pieces left?" Trent reacted as Eric raised his eyebrow, since Trent was starting again with his 9 obsession. "Am I nuts?" Duncan asked him confused "Dude, you are officially capital W weird!" He added Gwen walked to the table "which is good, because i happen to really like weird "She defended before taking a egg bite "There now you have 7 which is an odd number again. Isn't thant kind of better?" she asked. "Abso-Gwenly." Trent replied smiling at her. Cody frowned as Bryan now knew a way to manipulate Cody. Just then a whistle was blown! "Hang onto your coconuts, players." Chris said holding a surfing board "We're going back to the beach" He said "Whooo!" Owen cheered "Ever seen one of those 1960s surfer movies, where the kids get up to neato fun before the big bonfire twist a thon and the bully kicks the sand castle in the nerdy guys face?" Chris said "Uh, excuse me, but was that even English, eh?" Ezekiel asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I mean, I ain't never heard nothin' like that. Neato fun and bonfire twist-a-thon? Sounds like a whole heap of jibber-jabber to me." He scratched his head, clearly struggling to make sense of Chris's colorful description. The others shared the same sentiment except Harold who nodded. Heather continued Sneezing. "I Agree with Homeschool here, Grandpa, We haven't" Duncan said with his arms crossed. "Well, get ready to recreate one, Junior" Chris said "two challenges followed by a tie breaker if necessary, So grab your swimsuits!" Chris said walking out of the tent as the cast follwoed him. Dj was going out when Ched stopped him "If the sand castle thing goes down, make sure you are the kicker, not the kickee." He whispered to DJ.

The cast are in the Surfing set which was freezing cold and to add more to things they were all in their swimsuits. "When did you guys move the beach to Antarctica?" Lindsay asked as everyone was shaking with cold she had a bottled of sunscreen on her hands trying to squeeze it. "As some of you can see, we're actually in the shooting studio" Chris began "And The Ac's cranked because?" Duncan asked "All the cameras and Light get so hot, they could melt Chef's heart" Chris explained "And the network told my agent sweaty wasn't a good look for me. " He continued "Your first challenge, Hang ten this deck into the big blue without swallowing tail in the soup." He said "What did you just asked me to do?" Leshawna asked glaring at him "Trent runs to her "He means who ever stays on the surfboard the longest wins." Trent calmed her. "Exact-a-mundo, groovy cats." Chris said as Bryan cringed "Who's going first?" He asked "The team that wins will get a half hour head start on the next challenge and given tonight's reward, you should be fighting harder than justin's abs over who gets first shots" He added as no one stepped forward but thank to a frozen bit of sunblock that squirted from Lindsay's Bottle Harold stepped forward. "We have a volunteer!" Chris announed as Herold looks down.

Harold get on the surfing board geting ready "<ad surfing skills activate" He said as he got ready "And please welcome the return of some season one fan favorites," Chris smirks "The Sharks!" He announced as a shark Jumpped out and Harold went up to protect himself hanging from the equipment. "my booty and I are out!" He said "Your booty has an opinion?" Leshawna asked "That's a big job for such a saggy, sad little thing" Heather said "I'll have you know, this is a selfless act!" Harold told them "my lady fans couldn't handle the loss of this perfect behind!" He added "and by lady fans he means his mother" Heather threw another jab as Bryan tried not to laugh "Hey Sharks, look, Bacon and faken" Harold said pointing to Owen. "Breakfast should last all day, no?" He asked as Bryan rolled his eyes at him. as Sharks begged for Faken and Bacon.. Harold tried to dismount but ended up getting hurt in the process. "Way to stick the dismount bro" Chris said as Heather Duncan and Gwen laughed. Gwen and Duncan fist bumped as Trent got jealous and Insecure. "Aw..." he said "Friendship bracelet "Beth said holding up a bracelet with Trent's color scheme he takes it and starts hitting his head with it 9 times. Beth looks at him as she back away, Eric rolls his eyes at that. "Did you ever noticed Trent's a little weird?" Beth asked Lindsay and Ezekiel. "Eh, well, I reckon I didn't rightly notice, Beth," Ezekiel replied, his tone earnest but somewhat hesitant. Yet Lindsay didn't really get what she said "Did you say Tyler's here?" She smiled wide "That's Amazing!" Beth looks at Ezekiel "Okay lin, Tyler is not in the game anymore" She told her "Eh, well, uh, nope, Lin, Tyler ain't in the game no more," Ezekiel chimed in, trying to clear up the misunderstanding "Oh right...." Lindsay sighs "I must have a dental block about the whole thing." She said frowning Beth back away from her too.

Lindsay then took her turn on the surfboard managing to stay for a while until Chris changes the scenery to a Farm during a tornado and he cranks up a fan that makes Lindsay hit the wall. Other people took their turn, DJ, and Bryan and the Cody, Owen, Gwen Heather and Leshawna and justin but all the failed, luckily now there weren't any sharks. when it was Ezekiel's turn. He tried to stay as much as he could on the board "Yo! this is tricky eh!" Ezekiel exclaimed as he tried to maintain his balance, "Go Zeke!" Lindsay shouted "You can do it!" Beth also shouting encoring him "Lindsay! Beth! He isn't even in our team!" Bryan shouted at them before composing himself "You shouldn't be cheering for the enemy." he added. Yet still Ezekiel failed to stay long. Then It was Eric turn and he also had troubled with staying up, and He was being shot Seagulls instead "Zeke was right! This is Tricky" He said trying to claim his balance "Stay on the board Eric!" Harold Cheered. "You can do it, eh!" Ezekiel called "Can I shoot the seagulls at him chris?" Bryan asked trying to hurt him "Sure why not" Chris smiled as He took the gun and started shooting erratically. making Eric loose his balance. and fall

"Bryan's little stunt of asking to shoot the seagull shooter? Diabolically genius. It's about time someone shook things up around here. Looks like the game just got a whole lot more interesting." Heather said smiling impressed.

Lastly it was Duncan's turn to prove himself and he managed to stay on the surfboard, even avoiding Seagulls, sharks and Lindsay being throw to him causing the first win to be to the Gaffers. The team celebrated and cheered. Eric smiled and High fived Ezekiel. Gwen and Duncan high-five making Trent get jealous again and turning weird "If you at home like weird" Chris said staring at the camera "You'll love what's coming up next!" he said "I'm telling you, sometimes being weird is cool" Trent told Chris "Delusional. So sad." the camera then fades to black.

Soon the camera fades back in to show everyone at the film lot entrance all wearing their regular clothes "Welcome back to Total Drama Action" Chris said "Where against all advice to the contrary, the players have changed out of their bathing suits. Hope You like swimming in your jeans" He said shrugging "Right, because we are totally going to the beach for real this time." Heather said with sarcasm "The bus is just kate." She finished just as a bus horn blares. "You were saying?" Chris said

"Chris actually told us the truth for once?" Owen said sounding shocked "what's next? Being treated with actual respect?"

Beth was standing in front of the Bus door as Eric and Ezekiel were about to enter "I made you two Friendship bracelets, They match your outfits" She said smiling. "Thank you Beth! You didn't have to" Eric said smiling "It's the least I can do! You are helping Ezekiel on you team" She smiled at him as eric entered "here is yurs Zeke" She handed Ezekiel his bracelt"Uh, gee, thanks, eh! This, like, totally rocks! This and the necklace Lin gave me? I feel like, you know, part of your friend group now," Ezekiel said with a shy smile as he go inside the buss and sat next to Eric. Once everyone is aboard the bus it drove towards a familiar sigh. Camp Wawanawkaw. "Yes Campers, We're actually back to your old Stomping grounds, Total! Drama! Island!" he said as everyone looked at Chris. "If you neeed to take a moment and reminisce about the great times you had here.." Everyone but Bryan burst out laughing at what Chris said making him glare at everyone "Fine! We'll skip the good memories montage. Screaming Gaffers, you've got a 30 minute head start on...." He said "the sand castle building contest! To be judge by our resident king o' dunes. Make like prop masters, guys, and give me something awesome," Chris said smiling "I really don;t want the tie breaker to have to go down. I don't think legal quite approved it yet." The gaffers start their sand castle building and they work as hard and fast as the can following Harold's Instruction, While the majority went around with buckets and water Ezekiel was with harold Proving his worth. "Wow I never expected to say this but you are quite a hard worker Ezekiel" Harold said "Aw, shucks, Harold, thanks!" Ezekiel grinned, his cheeks flushing slightly at the unexpected praise. "I guess I just like gettin' my hands dirty and all, you know?" He shrugged modestly, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Harold as they worked side by side. Harold chuckled, clapping Ezekiel on the back. "Well, keep up the good work, buddy! With your help, we're gonna build the best darn sand castle this beach has ever seen!" He gave Ezekiel a thumbs up, impressed by his dedication and enthusiasm. They continued and they were almost finishing their Sand Castle. Chris counted down the Head start for the Gaffers and now the Grips could start their castle as the began to panic as, Trent give his idea as they build an awful castle with 9 of everything. and Sadly it broke when he placed the 9th tower causing Bryan to blow up at Trent realizing real thoughs because h couldn't take his team of idiots "Are you kidding me, Trent?!" Bryan exploded, his usual calm demeanor shattered in a moment of frustration. "Nine towers? Are you trying to sabotage us? We're supposed to be building a castle, not a joke!" His voice rose in anger, his eyes blazing with fury as he let out his pent-up frustration. "I can't believe I'm stuck with a team of incompetent fools like you!" Bryan's outburst echoed across the beach, leaving a tense silence in its wake, with no way to fix the damage his harsh words had caused. The grips gasped and Glared at him even if he was right for the Trent thing, he still was harsh and called them incompetent. So the team worked on the castle making it out of paper Mache and sand, Bryan sat to a side as no one wanted to work with him for his out burst. While the grips build their prop sand castle, The gaffers sand castle was under attack by sea gull and it broke down on the wrong moment causing the win to go to the grips. Prompting chris to tell them to go get fire wood befpre starting the tie breaker.

As Eric, Harold, and Ezekiel gathered firewood, Harold couldn't help but commend Eric. "You know, Eric, I gotta hand it to you," he said, nodding appreciatively. "Last time, you had Gwen pick Ezekiel for her team, and I gotta say, it turned out pretty well. The guy's got some good things to bring to the table." Ezekiel's face turned a shade of red as he shifted awkwardly, his shy demeanor evident. "Uh, th-thanks, Harold," he stammered, his voice soft and hesitant. "I-I'm just, uh, here to do my best and help out however I can." He continued gathering firewood, feeling a little flustered by the unexpected praise but also touched by the recognition. "Well... You saw how better it was to Have Zeke over Bryan.... The out burst he had today means he will be going next when they Grips lose" Eric said as he shrugged " Besides, I think Zeke Deserves a Second Chance and who knows people might get to actually like him" Eric added as Ezekiel smiled and blushes abit feeling like things were going right "Thanks, eh!" He said as the continued gathering fire wood. After Picking Wood Chris admit he wanted alone time, He then tells them what the Tie breaker was and it was a Dance off. So it was Leshawna vs Trent. the two began dancing and Leshawna was a horrible dance which meant that the Gaffer would lose the challenge but something unexpected happened, Trent had a idea thanks to owen that he should let Gwen win because thats what she wanted and with that he faked a leg Injury to have the gaffers win, Which it proved sucessfull but what no one had suspected was that Chris told them that despite being a reward challenge the producers told the to also make it an elimination which shocked the Grips. Since the bus was broken they had to have the ceremony in the old campfire.

It Becomes night and The Gilded Chris Theme begins to play. The grips enter the campfire and each take seats. as They Wait for Chris to start speaking as He walks to the center stage while Chef did a drum roll "And now, it's your turn to cast your votes" Chris said with his smile "and determine who will stroll down the walk of shame" The grips glance at the Lame-o-sine and all exchange glances. Chef walks to them with the voting devices "Here is your Voting devices where you will determine who will be strolling down the make shift walk of shame." He smiled as everyone casted their votes and someone handed Chris and Envelop. "The remaining players are safe...." He smiled "Cody, Justin, Owen" He called as Chef tossed the Gilded Chris to them. "Lindsay and Beth!" He added as the caught their Gilded Chris, Leaving Trent and Bryan shocked and confused "Two nominees," He smirked "That last Gilded chris goes to...." He extend the drama. "Wait!" Bryan stopped everything "Can I get one last Confessional before I take the boot?" He knew he was going due to his out burst "Since this my first elimination ever i should get some confessional right?" He said shruging "Sure fine what ever." Chris said "Go ahead." He said as Bryan ran but not towards the outhouse insted he headed to where the Gaffers where enjoying the rewards and he pulled heather aside "Heather I need your help!" he looks at her "Im getting the boot but im not ready to leave... and I think i should start with the Switch..." He said "Remember i highschool when i humiliated Eric by acting like him? Im going to make him take the boot for me. and That way you can hvae an alliance menber" He said as she ponders for a minute "Mhm and If you win i get 50 percent of the million?" She asked "Yes!" He said "I just need this favir! I need eric distracted. So i can hit him with a cocunot and Take him out!" He said as Heather agreed. So the two set their plan in motion Heather pretended to enjoy the reward as Eric felt something or someone sneaking behind him near the small forest. "Weird? Whats going on" he muttered leaving the reward area to check it out. He was unaware of Bryan hiding holding Mr. Coconut. Once Eric was in Bryans sight he hit him unconsious with Mr. Coconut. He changed their clothes and With heathers Help the two pretended to excort 'Bryan' to the elimination ceremony "Chris we found Bryan sneaking around" Heather said. "I pieced out that maybe he was voted off." She added "OH i almost didn't caught. he is Sneaky,," He laughs as The grips exchange glances "Take him to the Lame-o-Sine" He added as Eric and Heather excort Bryan to the lame-o-sine they pushed him inside and closed the door on the unconscious guy. "Well, well, well, looks like the tables have turned in my favor," he began, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Switching places with an unconscious Eric? Genius move, if I do say so myself." He leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now I get to continue playing the game as Eric, while the real Eric heads home in my place. Talk about a win-win situation." He chuckled softly, reveling in his own cunning. "With a stronger team and a clearer path to victory, nothing's gonna stop me from taking home that million," Bryan declared confidently, his eyes glittering with ambition. "And if anyone thinks they can outsmart me, well, they've got another thing coming."

Chris pauses Bryans Confessinal and smirks at the Camera "justin playin with Lindsay and Beth and now Bryan Having his brother take his spot in the Lame-o-sine" He smirked "Two evil geniuses in two different team with different strategy? If you want to know what happens next stay tuned to Total! Drama?! Action!" The camera fades to black

[Outro]

[End Outro]

TDA Exclusive Scene: 'Bryan' on the Lame o Sine

Next Episode: 3:10 to Crazy Town

A/N: I am sorry if this chapter is abit rushed. I wanted to Hurry this one and publish it. I skipped the gwen and Trent scene because yeah... and focused on Harold seeing that Ezekiel might be a good guy, because He would have need an Ally since Eric is out now, so stay tuned for the next episode.

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somesunnyda-y · 6 years

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Of course

#trentcam is now a thing y'all #new boyfie to add to the list for maxi #how many new ones has he picked up this ipl again #just trent and pudsey i think :P #the second video on his story rn focuses on pudsey for the forst few seconds #then just pans to trent for the last bit of it #that's pretty solid 👌#glenn maxwell #trent boult #ipl 11 #cricket #india #australia #new zealand #trentcam

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years

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Just a post-Aeor fic where Caleb buys a house with Beau and Yasha in Rexxentrum, becomes a professor, and learns how to be a person and protect people from what he has endured.

Content warnings: Caleb's backstory (a lot of it)

Chapter summary: Caleb's mind was in overdrive. There were so many calls to make, so many spells to prepare, so many things that could go wrong at every stage of this delicate operation, so many plans and backup plans and backup plans for backup plans. He could not let the past repeat itself.

Chapter notes: Say hello to a major plot arc. Also, I did my best to figure out a vague layout of the relevant parts of Rexxentrum but I am bad with directions, so *finger guns*

Chapter title from Eight by Sleeping At Last.

****

Chapter 6: I’m just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.