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littlemissbumblebee · 8 days

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Kiss Me Breathless.

Name: Kiss Me Breathless. (AO3 Link) Fandom: The Fernweh Saga (created by lovely @lacunafiction ) Characters: Beckett Warrick, Zarina Hawke (The Returning Visitor) Dynamic: Lovers. Warning: Mature/Explicit. What To Expect: Heavy Makeout, Messy Kisses, Dry Humping, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension. Synopsis: Beckett Warrick is the strongest soldier in this goddamn town of Fernweh.

Beckett Warrick is the strongest soldier in this goddamn town of Fernweh.

Or so Zarina wants to say as she’s been attempting several rounds of subtle flirtations to see if she could get the mood going and if she could hint to her beloved orange-hoodie wearing sunshine that she would like to enjoy something more… intimate.

It’s almost comedic how she’s been so gently and carefully kissed on the cheek, nose, forehead, even inner wrist but had gotten nowhere closer to creating a more romantically intimate atmosphere. She should be fantastic at it, setting up the mood and seducing others has never been an issue. But Beckett isn’t ‘everyone’ and he certainly isn’t someone she wants to just ‘fool around’ with.

What makes it even funnier is that she is quite aware how Warrick behaves, noting his careful behaviors and shyer approaches. As if he’s afraid to offend or push too hard. She doesn’t want to pressure him either. What she did think was that maybe doing something more romantic would be fun or maybe she wanted to learn what he liked to dislike. After all, their time spent together has been good. It’s been very good, but she noticed the reach outs and the step backs. She noticed the wish to do something more and then retracting, Beckett’s smile was gentle and sweet as always.

“We haven’t even made out much…” Zarina mumbles as she sorts the snack bowl, her fluffy slippers remain a reminder that she’s got to return to the couch in a moment.

Hawke knows quite well that it was enjoyable for both sides. It makes her think of those times when they would kiss and it would linger, but it would be short-lived as there would be a moment of retraction solely because he didn’t want to push for more, as if he didn’t deserve far more. It’s her mission to prove him wrong.

If there is a word to describe the photographer it would be: an angel. Or so she’d call him inside her mind, knowing full well he is as human as she is with virtues and vices. In the moment of frustrated irritation, however, the angelic patience and careful touches were igniting more of her inner demon than anything else.

The questions surrounding her own beauty make it to her head:

Am I not hot enough? Am I being too subtle?

The questions continue, causing Hawke to stand in the kitchen and preparing some snacks for them to enjoy during a movie night. He didn’t say anything about her tank top and shorts, he didn’t say anything about her hairstyle either. But she did notice him looking! She did! The issue was not that she thought he didn’t understand what she was trying to do, but that he was too sweet and nice to make her uncomfortable. Beckett has always been like that: attentive, hyper aware, and always observant. And she loved him for everything he was, is, and will be.

Zarina takes a moment to look down at herself, lower lip pushed a bit forward in a pout as she specifically tried to make herself look cozy but still just disheveled enough to give glimpses at her bra and the short were just a bit shorter than usual because maybe she wanted Bee to look and enjoy the view. She loves to look at herself in the mirror too: this body is something she worked for! But it’s different, Beckett is different.

“Rina?” Beckett’s voice brings Hawke out of her scheming over how to create a more romantic situation without making it the same as those who didn’t matter (because Warrick always mattered). “Are you okay?”

Oh no, he’s already in the kitchen and looks worried. Her heart can’t take it, it’s not his fault she’s having a lowkey crisis over how to seduce him without being too forceful.

“Sorry, was I long?” She straightens up, stepping away from where she was making the platter of snacks. Her attention remains fully on Warrick, which helps her see how he looks away for a moment before giving her a familiar soft yet concerned smile. He’s worried, it’s so easy to see.

When he extends her hand to her, she takes it. They’ve done this before, even before they became ‘us’.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he gently prods, placing his other hand on top of hers he’s holding. It’s warm; his hands are so warm and she looks down at their hold before looking up at him. The hazel eyes are full of love and adoration, it makes her press her lips together before sighing.

“Am I…” Zarina starts, but stops. If she does ask these questions, she’d like to do it sitting down in case a reaction would be more than she expects. “Let me grab the snacks and I’ll tell you.”

“Sure. Need help?”

“Yes, could you please grab some water bottles?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“No, that’s good. If you want juice, go ahead and get it out of the fridge.”

“Water’s good. We can probably make some decaf tea in case you’re cold.”

Oh, I wouldn’t be cold if I could make out with you, Hawke thinks to herself and suddenly smiles at the response her mind decided to give her. Truly, one of a kind! Wait, no, she needs to concentrate on what’s going on right now.

As they bring everything and place it on the small table near the couch, Beckett doesn’t hesitate to sit down next to her and turn himself to face Hawke. She takes his hand into hers and he shows how attentive he is by tilting his head to the side. Zarina finds herself smitten over this showcase of care, wishing she could kiss the slight furrow of his eyebrows to make him stop frowning so much with worry.

“So, what’s going on? Do you… want to talk about it?”

“You’re always so observant,” Zarina chuckles, but it’s light and warm. His frown lessens, seeing as there is nothing too bad or too tense. “This is going to sound… Funny.”

“If it bothers you, I wouldn’t call it funny,” he immediately responds and Zarina has to bite the tip of her tongue not to laugh. Oh no, she finds herself to be utterly ridiculous for this. The way his hold tightens a bit, a showcase of care and genuine worry. He’s attentive, eyes searching for any signs of wrong and tiredness. It’s warm, so delightfully warm to be close to him.

“No, no, it’s nothing bad. How do I say this?” Hawke shakes her head, an amused, small smile gracing her lips.

There is a moment of silence before she continues:

“Am I not giving the right signals?”

His dumbfounded reaction is all she needs to move on with the conversation.

“What?”

“Is this outfit,” she gestures at herself with her free hand, the other still holding onto Beckett’s. “Not making you, I don’t know, horny even a little bit?”

There is another moment of silence; it becomes comedic at this point. Warrick’s blinking and Hawke’s rising shame over her comedic worries only weigh down until she hears a loud sigh of relief coming from her beloved. Now, it’s her turn to owlishly blink at Beckett before she sees his smile at her with that shy and sweet curl. Her heart skips a beat.

“I was worried there was something else…” His tone shows such genuine and adoring warmth, it almost feels as Warrick’s love for her couldn’t be clearer seen but somehow that softened look does the job too well. The small tilt of his head, the way his thumb caresses over the skin of her palm, the way that worry melted into pure affection.

“It is a concern. Am I not hot enough?”

“No! You are, I mean, you’re very hot and pretty and,” he suddenly stammers, trying to find as many adjectives befitting his once best friend no girlfriend yet the blush that appears on his cheeks is enough to give her a sensation of genuine relief. She’s not losing her touch in reading him. “You’re the best, you always are. I think you’re always pretty and hot, too, is that okay to say? I don’t want to…”

“Bee,” she gently stops him, reaching to cup his cheek and to turn his face to her. Her gaze of amber softens, showing nothing but genuine adoration and love. “It’s alright. It makes me happy. Can I tell you one thing too?”

“Of course,” he responds, reassuring as always despite seemingly melting into her touch. “Anything.”

“I don’t want to push you,” she begins, “I don’t want to accidentally make you uncomfortable. You are… you are always so good to me. And you know me, I can be a lot.”

If a look could melt, Hawke was afraid she’d be a puddle already. Despite how she knew Beckett dislikes the conflict or anything that would make him step out of his comfort zone when it comes to speaking of his opinion, he would never hesitate to speak his mind. Especially with her. It was what they discussed with each other: being honest, always. The basis of their bond is trust and loyalty, everyone could see it.

“Rina,” he gently stops her before she continues, wanting to let her know what he feels. Even if blood rushes to his face and he feels his heart beat too fast, making him worry if his hands will get sweaty from the rush of emotions. Warrick rubs the back of his neck, his smile is sheepish but loving as he continues. “You never push me. I-if anything, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You, me, us, it’s…” He breathes out, but notes on how attentively the gaze of amber watches him. It gives Beckett enough of a push to continue with his train of thought. “It’s wonderful, really. I still have a hard time believing it’s… real. Us, I mean.”

The sincerity is evident in his words, but it’s exactly that sincerity that makes Hawke move forward. Without letting him say another word, go into a nervous ramble because he just wants to be better and be good for her, Zarina cuts the distance between the two of them to kiss him. The way his hazel eyes widen, the way his hold on her hand tightens, and the way he responds to the kiss are all there is for her and forever will be. But it’s short, shorter than both of them wanted it to be; it’s quite obvious by the way Beckett almost chases her lips and the way she looks at him.

The way the short silent lingers between them, they’re not too far away from each other. There is a subtle tension that grows with each second. Zarina smiles sweetly and Warrick reflects that with his own shy smile.

“Then we better make sure that you believe this is real, hm?” Her whisper is a laced with subtle mirth yet there is too much adoration to notice it, Beckett only opens his eyes wider from surprise when he watches her move closer to him, placing a kiss to his cheek before freeing her hand from his hold and gently push him to sit on the couch.

“Rina? What are yo---” He is silenced by her index finger pressed against his lips as she places her other hand on his shoulder, climbing on his lap to straddle him, hovering at first. The blush that appears on his cheeks deepens as he looks at her, wide-eyed and so in love, yet there is shyness and untapped excitement that causes him to move under her a bit. His gaze asks her if this is alright and she just nods at him, settling down on his lap.

Warrick swallows when he feels the weight on his lap, hands on both sides of him squeeze into fists as he finds his own heart jump at the sensation. Oh, this is real-real. Zarina is on his lap, he becomes all too hyper aware of the situation they’re in, the atmosphere, the feeling in the air. He did smell her perfume before, but for some reason it’s far stronger now: the gentle sweetness. As warm as she is despite her usually running cold (he knows, his hoodies are her warmers).

Hazel eyes look around, nervous to look at her as if it’s taboo to lay his eyes on the one he loved for so long. He only catches her soft yet amused smile, the tilts of her head, the exposed neck. Damn, he can feel any shift, any movement. Does she hear his heartbeat? It feels like his heart is beating so fast.

His best friend, his girlfriend now. She is sitting on his lap. Pretty, gorgeous, wearing her favorite shorts and a tank top that squeezes her figure in just the right places, the fabric across her chest stretching whenever she takes a deeper breath, her exposed thighs causing him to feel like his heart is beating in his ears now. He once dreamed about this, something similar, and that shame over imagining his best friend then made him unable to look at her in the morning for half an hour, shifting from embarrassment.

And right now? This is reality. This is the present.

Zarina loves him and he loves her. The feelings harbored over the years spilling into something more, something more intoxicating and he is almost scared this is a dream but the way those amber eyes look at him and the way she leads his hands to rest on her waist makes him let out a soft, dreamy sigh.

He almost bunches the fabric of her tank top while trying to calm down his rapidly increasing heartbeat. Something to hold onto, he’s afraid he’s going to lose it and pass out from how hot his face feels. And Zarina seems to find it adorable, hands remaining on top of his, caressing the knuckles, easing his tension and letting him get used to this.

Hawke must be feeling the same judging by her look, eyes glimmering from delight as she caresses his cheek, pressing a kiss to his forehead first. It’s soft; no one but him knows this gentle softness, no one knows this intense care, no one knows the loving smiles she can give. Zarina doesn’t show them to anyone but him, indulging in his company as he basks in her presence. They both saw each other as being too good for each other, a discussion they’ve had before with reassurance being offered from both sides.

I love you.

I love you too.

“I love you,” Zarina says, a whisper so tender he might tear up at the reassurance she brings to him no matter what they do. But he doesn’t understand, not yet, how much the same reassurance he brings to her when he says her name, holds her hand, asks her how she feels. He is yet to learn the vastness of his influence on her, the guiding light to sanity.

“I love you too,” he breathes out in the same tender yet hushed tone, finding this closeness to be melting his nerves away. There is a subtle eagerness lighting up in his eyes as he glances down at her lips and Hawke smiles again (he loves her smile, he wants to keep making her smile) before the distance between them is erased again, lips locked.

Zarina wraps her arms around his neck as his hands reach higher to hug her closer to him. The closeness between their bodies non-existent at this point, the kiss is far more passionate than the previous softness. Hawke’s cherry chapstick feels nice to the taste, but what makes the mind melt away is the intensity that is born from the tension built up.

Beckett’s hands trace up and down her back as her hand reaches up to have her fingers entangle themselves in his hair, a gentle pull causing him to open his mouth mid-kiss and having the silverette take that as an advantage to deepen to kiss.

A subtle moan escapes him, muffled by the closeness and lack of distance. Zarina closes her eyes, giving her all into the kiss. Only when there is not enough air in their lungs do they distance, heavy breathing being the only sound in their living room. Beckett fills like his head is full of mist, body heating up yet he notices the longing for another kiss while Hawke tries to get herself reigned back, the wish to be closer to him makes her consider letting go of control and give in to the desire.

“Rina…”

Amber eyes widen in surprise at the hoarse sound of his voice, the way Beckett seems like he pleads for another kiss and who she is to tell him no? Especially when she wants the same. And so, she lessens the hold on her own control, choosing to listen to her heart and her body, listening to the instinct that understood this far better than logic would.

Another kiss follows, desire dancing between them, making the air around feel warmer, hotter even. It gets hard to breathe, the sensors are overwhelmed with the feeling of each other so close. The scent of his soap mixing with the smell of her perfume, it’s all mixing into something perfect as Beckett’s hand accidentally lifts the fabric of her tank top, exposing skin and having his fingertips caress it. Suddenly, his body goes rigid and Hawke immediately interrupts the kiss. “Are you okay?” She is immediately alert.

“Y-yeah,” he responds, giving her a shy smile. “I-Is it… alright if I… touch you?”

Hawke almost takes off her tank top right then and there solely to have him touch her wherever he wanted, but she decides against it. For now. For these seconds. Instead, she must lead him, just enough until he’s more comfortable.

“You mean under my tank top?” Silverette clarifies, to which Warrick nods. “You can. Want me to take it off?”

He almost stutters, fingers grasping her waist a bit stronger from surprise at the inquiry and from how his brain gave him an immediate answer. Is it really alright, his nervousness asked. How lucky it was that Hawke was a perfect translator to Beckett Warrick’s body language.

“Y-you don’t have to, I mean, I would like that, but only… Only if you’re okay with it,” the more he speaks, the quieter he gets but how lucky it is that Zarina is this close, so even his mumble would be heard loud and clear. His heart jumps in his chest again at the sight of her softening expression as she kisses his cheek again, letting go of his neck and Sitting up straight.

“With how you’re holding me, I guess you want to help me, Bee?” Her gentle amusement is laced with a teasing yet loving undertone and Warrick doesn’t get what she means until he looks at his hands on her waist, bunching the fabric of her tank top under his fingertips. Immediately, he lets go, bringing his hands closer to himself as if he was caught red-handed trying to steal something sacred.

“I-I’m sorry, did it hurt?”

Oh no, he’s so cute… Zarina almost bites her lip to stop herself from smiling, but instead she reaches to grasp his hands and intertwine their fingers, a way to let him know it’s alright.

“Beckett,” she calls his name in a patient tone, making sure to bring his attention to her. It works like a charm, his eyes meeting hers. “I want you to touch me… so much more. Everywhere. And I mean it, I want you to touch me everywhere you want.”

It’s hard to look away when she looks at him like this, so earnest in her desire yet there is an underlying passion that makes her amber eyes shine brighter. Or is it the illusion of this moment? None of them care, not when this moment is so different compared to their previous kisses, make outs even. It usually ended before the question of hands going under each other’s skin.

She’s been so careful with him, Beckett noticed. Knowing her eagerness and her history, he knows she’s doing it all to make him comfortable.

Can you be even more perfect? This is the question that lingers in his mind when he looks at his best friend, now girlfriend. The spark. The spark he hasn’t felt before with others is finally there and he wants to make sure she also knows that he isn’t fragile. He wants this as much as she does, but he understands her. He understands why she’s being so careful.

“I want… you to touch me too,” he says, communicating his wish with her verbally.

This is new. This is a change. This is them together, as a couple. They both are trying to understand these changes and adjust to them, learning where each preference and boundary lies. They’ve been best friends for too long, they’ve harbored these feelings for too long, they’ve wanted this for too long.

So there is no need to rush, to jump, but there is a need to speak, to look into each other’s eyes and speak their mind.

Zarina opens her mouth to say something before closing it, instead her gaze returns to its adoring shade and Beckett continues to think just how gorgeous she looks when she smiles. This honesty burns his cheeks and makes him feel shy but he wants to let her know. The blush on his cheeks is not because of his hesitation, but because of his own eagerness. He wants to let her know he feels the same, he knows he has to say it.

Because Zarina Hawke always looked out for what made him comfortable. She always noticed just like he did. She always did what made him comfortable, ensuring his comfort and safety. And he, too, always wanted to give her the same support and comfort. Thus, he speaks his mind, no matter how tongue tied he may become from the overwhelming feeling and the hyper awareness of their closeness.

“Tell me if you want to stop, alright?”

“Of course, don’t worry, Rina.”

As they smile at each other, lovestruck from each other’s openness and communication, they kiss again. But this time, Warrick’s hand slides under the fabric of her tank top, tracing the skin beneath and feeling the way Hawke shifts on his lap, moving closer. Zarina’s chest presses against his, the softness yet firmness isn’t lost on either of them. The kiss turns open mouthed, messier the more they get into it. They stop once, twice to catch their breaths yet return to each other with new passion, new vigor.

Zarina’s own moan is muffled by their kiss when she feels the warmth of Beckett’s hands on her back and also on her exposed thigh. Beckett finds himself loving that sound, mind only thinking of the woman he loves. He’s drowning in this sweetness, in her. It’s the same with Hawke as she lightly bites Beckett’s lower lip to make him gasp, her fingers find the wavy curls of his hair, playing with them by gently pulling or tugging. They try out several angles for kisses, tilting heads to find an even better way to kiss, to drown in each other.

It’s when Hawke shifts in his lap when they both have to break the kiss to let out a similarly sweet sound. The way her body moved on its own in the midst of the makeout, grinding against him, causing Warrick’s own hips to buckle. The intensity gave path to a far deeper desire, a far more primal, causing bodies to act before logic. Instead of another kiss, Beckett wraps his hands around her body to hide his face in the crook of her neck. His face is hot, burning from the sensations that he hasn’t felt in such intensity before.

Zarina, too, almost moved away from him solely because she didn’t want to move anything forward until the hazel-eyed photographer was comfortable with it. And yet, when he keeps her close, Hawke hugs him back, they are pressed so close, it’s making her head spin… along with how often they’ve kissed, she lost count. Her mind is filled with euphoric melodies, her body longs for more friction.

“B-Beckett? A-Are you alright?” Her breathless voice is hoarse as his is, a new melody that he finds attractive beyond, even better than what he once imagined.

“Y-yeah,” he responds, “it’s just… It feels nice.”

“Too nice?” She finds it in herself to chuckle to which Beckett lets his lips press against her neck, closing his eyes.

“Mhmm,” he agrees non-verbally, letting out a sound, afraid that his voice will betray him.

“I-it feels nice for me too,” she confesses, patting his head, hoping to help him either calm down or ease into this new sensation. “D-do you want me to move again?”

“Please,” it almost comes out as a plea, but he doesn’t let go.

Her upper body remains pressed against him. Can they feel each other’s heartbeat like this? Hawke finds herself swallowing dryly, her mind feeling like a mush combined of her love for Beckett, excitement over the development, and a yearning desire for more. They both breathe heavily, their pulse running faster than ever from the excitement.

“Mhmm, okay,” her whisper is hushed as she wraps her arms around him, feeling his hold weaken just enough to let her move easier.

The way Warrick keeps kissing her neck only makes it harder to stop, so she doesn’t. As if testing, she moves her hips against him, feeling the growing bulge in his pants. It makes her happy, it makes her far happier than she wants to say out loud. He wants her as much as she wants him, his body yearns for her too. The soft spoken curse words on another langue reaches her ear and Zarina presses her hips harder against him, eliciting a mixture between a groan and a moan. He sounds so beautiful, she wants to hear so much more but her own voice comes out in the same way.

The mixture of a gasp and a moan as they both move, trying to reach for more friction between each other. It feels good, it feels so good while being so close. It feels just absurd enough that they don’t move to the bedroom at this point, but they are lost in each other. Beckett’s hand rests on the small of her back while Zarina’s is back to his hair, they are so impossibly close to each other. The only thing separating them are their clothes, and even they make them feel stuffy at this point.

The air is filled with soft sounds of moans and gasps.

“B-Beckett,” she utters his name, breathless from how turned on she feels from this dry humping. It feels so good, so fucking good but she’s afraid she may not be able to stop if they continue. Warrick breathes as heavily as she does, finding himself twitching under her touch when the pressure against his groin is harsher with growing desperation and need.

Can they … Can they take this farther?

“Rina, I…” He begins, unable to think of a coherent way to express his feelings. And just when he wants to say something more…

RING!

The couple tenses from shock at the sudden ringing. It’s the doorbell from downstairs. The moment snaps just like that, causing them to look at each other in confusion and there is an annoyed groan that escapes Hawke.

“What the fuck?”

RIIIIING!

“D-did you expect anyone?” Beckett asks, letting go of Zarina. He can’t deny how miffed he is about this. Especially when Hawke denies any possibility with a shake of her head.

“No,” she frowns, eyebrows furrowed as she looks back at Warrick and away.

It was just getting good! They were both at the peak of their want, ready to do something more but now this moment was thoroughly broken apart. Beckett touches Zarina’s arm, worried expression crossing over his face despite the heat that still didn’t leave his body and his face.

This is creepy. Whoever just rang the doorbell must either think they’re so fucking funny or it was a malfunction, but…

RIIIIIIIING!

“I’m going to check,” Zarina huffs as she gets up, whining softly when she loses the warmth of Beckett’s body next to her. He does the same, already missing her presence but also getting ready to get up before she gestures for him to stay. “Sorry, Beckett, but you can’t go meet anyone at the door in the state you are in.”

She gives him a once over, glancing down for a second before looking up.

“W-wha, I, you shouldn’t go alone!” For a moment, Warrick curses male anatomy and the obvious hard on he’s having right now after this makeout. But his worry outweighs the subtle embarrassment before Hawke walks over to see if she can see who was ringing the doorbell from where they were.

As she peaks over, she notices a car standing outside. A familiar car. A very fucking familiar car.

“Those fucking gremlins,” she suddenly seethes, surprising Beckett when she storms past him, grabbing her robe on her way down. “I’ll murder them.”

“Zarina?!”

“Stay there! I need to give those dipshits a piece of my fucking mind.”

Seconds later, Beckett can hear loud screams of both young boys and Hawke cursing the living hell out of them. Seems like the culprits were some high school kids who were too fucking dumb to do anything but try to ring doorbells so close to night.

Warrick sighs, frustrated and annoyed at the ruined moment, hiding his face in his hands. It was going so well, so damn well as he imagined and hoped to make it better for her. The expression on Zarina’s face, her voice, her body moving against his. What would’ve happened if the ring didn’t happen?

Would they…?

Fuck, he’s getting angry thinking about the interrupted moment now. As he looks down at himself, Beckett groans.

Time to take a shower and take care of this himself. He can’t ask for anything more, especially with the moment ruined. He already hears Zarina loudly cursing the kids out, scolding them for acting like utter dipshits.

Next time, they both think, next time for sure.

#other Mcs #TFS #the fernweh saga #Zarina Hawke #Beckett Warrick #I LOVE BEEZ SO MUCH #THEY DESERVE THE ENTIRE WORLD

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littlemissbumblebee · 2 months

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The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction

Name: Phoebe “Bee” Silver (she/her)

Personality: Snarky - Cautious - Friendly - Pessimistic - Merciful - Shy

Traits: Heart – Cooperative - Resistant - Skeptic

Past Affinity: Music: Guitar

Primary Ability: Empathetic Impressions

Job (if asked): Barista

Past Susceptibility: Forward.

Social Dynamics (as of Book 1):

Becca Warrick:

The moment Phoebe told Becca about the letter, she immediately began to organise work leave so she could accompany her to Fernweh and show support. She would make sure her closest friend was cared for, no matter what.

Phoebe hates having to be back in Fernweh, and more or less clings to Becca at every single given opportunity. She is her lifeline, her reminder that outside of this Gods forsaken town, there is a life she built herself that she will return to, and everything will be OK.

Phoebe and Becca have been close friends since the year Phoebe was sent away from Fernweh by her grandfather. Becca found Phoebe crying alone on Father's Day, and took it upon herself to befriend her, starting up a conversation about bees – the subject of her photography at the time. In the following years, the two would joke about that meeting, and began calling one another “Bee”.

While Phoebe has dated other women in the years since they first met, Becca has always been the constant person in her life through every high and low. Through her time at Fernweh, Phoebe slowly realised why her past relationships never worked out: She was in love with Becca, constantly comparing whoever she was with with her. She always had been, she just had never realised.

Phoebe feels absolutely, horrifically wretched for Becca being trapped in Fernweh with her, and entirely responsible for it. Every morning she wakes up to see Becca’s spot at the table empty, knowing its because she’s out walking the boundary, trying to find a way out, twists the knife. She’s worried her best friend, the woman she loves, might regret her. Regret ever coming. Maybe even hate her. She wouldn’t blame her, Phoebe’s own mind echoes those sentiments.

Sofia Dorran:

Phoebe never really knew much about Sofia, save for the facts that she was lovely, her mother was really nice, she read a lot, and she was her neighbour when she was little. While Mrs Dorran always doted on the young Phoebe, her daughter tended to prefer to read quietly, and Phoebe was entirely too shy to initiate any kind of proper interaction.

Since returning to Fernweh, and spending her time living in the B&B, Phoebe and Sofia have been getting along a bit better, with Phoebe having grown to be a little more assertive, and Sofia appreciating the genuine care Phoebe shows those around her – especially her mother.

This new closeness is nice – Phoebe may be a friendly gal, but she’s not very good at actually making new friends. Sofia is a lovely person, and even respects Phoebe’s wishes when she is asked not to refer to her as Bee (its just a her and Becca thing), something that skyrocketed Phoebe’s opinion of her.

Reese Verner:

This is a... complicated one. Reese has always been particularly hard for Phoebe to read. She could never be truly sure if he was her friend, her rival, or something in between. She certainly never liked his mother. Because of this, Phoebe treats most interactions with Reese tentatively, like someone approaching a scary looking dog.

More than once, her mother had suggested that maybe the reason Reese was so competitive and vaguely annoying with her, refusing to call her by her first name, was because he had a crush on her. Phoebe hates that idea, and not just because she’s a lesbian. She can’t stand the idea of being a part of that family, or having such a frustrating partner.

That said, Phoebe is a forgiving and friendly person, and it has been a long time since she was last in Fernweh. And, even if she was never sure if he was ever truly her friend, she does have good memories of the Verner heir, and is making a (very cautious) effort to try to befriend him. It’s not gone horribly, but it definitely needs some work.

James Corvin:

If Becca is Phoebe's anchor now, James certainly was when she lived here. He was her best friend, and Phoebe used to find herself at the Corvin farm, laughing and playing pretend with him and his sister Alina more or less every afternoon. She still wears the necklace he got her when they were little – a little sword that slots in behind the matching shield James wears on his necklace.

There’s a lot of reasons for Phoebe to hate Fernweh, to want to forget it ever existed. James Corvin is not one of them. Learning he had written her letters and they had never been delivered to her had been devastating, especially because she had assumed he hated her for leaving given the supposed lack of contact. If there’s a good thing about returning to Fernweh, its being able to see the Corvins again. She loves them both like family, and has gone out of her way to properly reconnect since she returned.

The Waitress:

Mal. Oh boy. Whatever magic is in that woman’s eyes that can cause Phoebe to freeze like someone pressed pause on her should be studied and weaponised because it’s potent.

She’s stunning, of course, but that’s actually not what’s gotten Phoebe so spellbound. It’s the mystery of her, the deep darkness of her eyes, the true care she shows for almost everyone she interacts with. How does she know her favourite food? How is she showing up in her dreams? How can someone so stunning and spellbinding have never stood out before now? Why does it feel like she can look right through every wall and mask she has and see the raw vulnerability inside?

In any other circumstance, any other, she wouldn’t feel so horrid for being so spellbound and smitten by the Waitress, but now she’s realised how in love with Becca she is, Phoebe is having a bit of a crisis. Becca isn’t poly like her, at least, she doesn’t think she is, and she would rather cut off her own leg than hurt her Honey Bee. But nonetheless, whenever Mal is in the room and fixes her with that look, it’s all Phoebe can do to not melt into a tiny gay puddle.

A bit about Phoebe:

Being “kicked out” (as she thinks of it) of Fernweh and more or less thrust into the foster system almost immediately after she lost her parents in a fire when she was still basically a kid really did a number on Phoebe. She has major abandonment issues, and is very slow to trust, despite being outwardly very friendly.

To her mind, she lost her parents, and all of a sudden absolutely nobody she cared about wanted her around anymore. Her Papa (grandfather) slowly cut himself off, and she never once got a single letter from a friend, or literally anyone from Fermweh until her Papa passed away. She might be friendly and forgiving, but that’s because she wishes the world had been more friendly and forgiving to her. She truly thinks her grandfather stopped loving her, and blames herself for it. She believes nobody could truly love her just for being her - the fact that Becca has seen her at more or less her worst and still stays around is baffling to her.

Because of all this, Becca being there for her for all these years, through breakups and breakdowns, and even coming with her to Fernweh has solidified her as a core pillar in Phoebe’s life. She’s shown time and time again that she will be there no matter what, which is something Phoebe feels she has never truly had before.

This doesn’t mean she doesn’t expect the worst the moment something she’s done causes Becca pain. The separation being trapped in Fernweh has caused feels like slowly drowning, and Phoebe is beyond worried that she’s ruined the most important relationship in her life.

She’s been through some doozies as far as relationships go, often falling for people that take advantage of her abandonment issues and clingy nature. As a result of the generally crappy experience her life has been, she tends to be sarcastic and make jokes out of everything – particularly at the worst time you could possibly make a joke.

She still plays her guitar, most often selecting songs based off of people she cares about. Given how distressingly short that list of people is, a very large number of these songs are romantic, cute or indie in nature. Her first instinct when she wants to show someone what they mean to her is to sing for them, and give them a personal trinket – though she is always surprised when people give her little trinkets, or do little performances for her. She does not value herself very highly at all.

Also, fun fact, Phoebe is trans! Something she figured out about a year before the fire. Since she didn’t have very long in Fernweh after coming out, Becca has been her primary support through the process (yet another reason why Phoebe thinks the entire world of her)

Last Thoughts/Ramble:

Golly I adore Fernweh. If you haven’t read it yet, I cannot stress enough how much you should. The first book is both on the Choice of Games website, and the Hosted Games app, and it’s written by the wonderfully talented and amazing Aelsa Trevelyan (who I definitely don’t have a massive crush on). Once you’re done reading and re-reading and re-reading it and are sufficiently obsessed, do yourself a favour and join her patreon. I guarantee you will not regret it.

Now, with that little plug out of the way, I wanted to gush a bit about this beautiful world and its amazing characters. The sheer page-turning grip the Fernweh Saga has on me is palpable. I adore horror, and the eerie, subtle, almost psychological horror themes, paired with cryptids and supernatural abilities, and some truly spectacularly written romance, make this series absolutely incredible to me.

I’ve played/read a lot of interactive novels, but none of them have ever wormed their way so deeply into my mind as TFS. The town of Fernweh is so beautifully rich with lore and intrigue that I just need to know. The imagery Aelsa portrays with her words is equally wonderful.

But where this story really shines is the characters. All of them, not just the romance options. Every single one is so vibrant and rich, you truly do feel like they’re real people. I don’t blame Phoebe for falling in love with Becca, I think I might have as well. Every interaction feels appropriately weighted and realistic.

I adore this budding series with my entire heart (which the discord channel may be sick of, given how much I post fan art and fanfic 😅). The freedom to mould your character however you like, while also having a pre written origin story is so interesting, and makes me want to know more about the character I more or less created myself.

So yeah. Do yourself a favour. Read the Fernweh Saga. You will not regret it.

#TFS #the fernweh saga #oc #interactive fiction #romance

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