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mapsthewanderer · 6 days ago

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Caffeine, chemistry and Caleb XI

Synopsis: The café was supposed to be just another coffee shop. For a law student who enjoys her morning coffee and a shy newbie still learning the ropes, it should have been nothing more than part of the daily routine… But then there’s Caleb.

Details: 2600 words. Non-MC!Reader as the law student. So. The movies. What’s gonna happen? Who knows. But it features: Newbie texting in full chaos mode, Caleb being a certified menace-level flirt, and a little surprise thrown in for good measure. Just fluff, just vibes—with a sprinkle of smoool angst, obviously. Because honestly, who wants to be in lawyer girl’s position?

Parts: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 12

Tags: @gavin3469 @unstablemiss @i-messed-up-big-time @mipov101 @zukini-01 @ariakamil @zaynessdarling @gojosballsack69 @moon-cakei

Scared little sandwich | Pt. 11

You walk.

Because that’s all you can do.

The floor hums faintly beneath your sneakers, sticky in places from years of spilled soda and adolescent heartbreak. The lighting overhead is soft, a little dimmer than it needs to be, catching on the silver chain at your collarbone with every step.

Your eyes flick between Caleb—still leaned against the wall, still watching with that unreadable kind of focus like he’s waiting for you to make the next move—and the girl beside him. Apple Girl. Still talking. Still smiling like this is just a casual night out and not whatever…this is.

Your hand fumbles into your pocket like it’s acting on instinct, already fishing out your phone with the urgency of someone defusing a bomb. Because the newbie has to know that this is not a date, it’s a beautifully lit social crisis.

A thousand possible exit routes flare in your brain like courtroom objections. Just turn around. Just say you forgot something. Just fake appendicitis. Just—

Bang.

The restroom door swings open hard and fast—right into your shoulder.

You stumble back with a yelp, nearly dropping your phone.

“Shit—oh my god, sorry,” says the guy behind it, immediately reaching out to steady you. His hand catches your elbow, warm and solid. “Didn’t see you there—shit, you okay?”

You look up.

And up.

Leather jacket. Broad shoulders. Familiar smile.

You blink.

And then it hits you.

Photos. Memes. The chaotic group texts. The guy who dared Caleb to chug a cold brew—and then puked after doing ten pushups to prove it wouldn’t mess him up, too.

Gideon.

It’s Gideon.

“Oh,” he says, smile widening. “You’re Golden Girl, right?”

You nod before you even register doing it, still gripping the doorframe like it might stop you from blacking out on the spot. “Yeah. I—uh—hi.”

He extends a hand like you’ve been in the same friend group for years. “I’m Gideon.”

Of course you are. Of course he is.

And just like that, your hand is already in his. Before you can recover, a voice breezes in beside you, cheerful and citrusy.

“She’s here!”

Apple Girl twirls slightly, drink in one hand, the other already extended like she’s been waiting all week to meet you.

“Hi! I’m—”

“Apple Girl,” you say automatically.

She blinks, then breaks into a bright laugh. “Right. That works.” And because this night refuses to stop escalating, she pulls you into a quick hug. Like it’s natural. Like it’s normal.

“I’ve heard so much about you.”

Possibly the worst sentence in the English language.

You don’t say anything in response. Don’t move. But inside? Inside you want to spin on your heel, point at Caleb like a prosecuting attorney and demand answers. What was the plan here, exactly? What was going through that smug, violet-eyed head of his? You want to put him on the stand. Grill him until he sweats. Ask what the hell he was thinking. Ask why you ever thought—for even one second—that trusting him wouldn’t completely rearrange your emotional architecture.

You want to go home. Crawl under a blanket. Cry. Maybe sue him.

But instead—

Caleb’s still standing nearby, quiet and unreadable, hands in his pockets, eyes on you. And when the hug ends, he pulls one hand from his pocket. Holds something up between two fingers.

A crinkly bag. Sour Patch Kids.

“Promise kept,” he says.

You’re still trying to figure out what to do with that when Gideon pipes up from behind the group:

“So what are we seeing again? Or is this one of Caleb’s ‘trust the vibes’ operations?”

Caleb’s grin cuts sideways toward you. “Didn’t want to scare anyone off.”

Apple Girl—still standing very, very close—laughs lightly, fingers brushing Caleb’s arm like she’s done it a hundred times. “He likes to surprise people. It’s kind of his thing.”

Arms crossed, you mutter, “Cool. Can’t wait to be dismembered emotionally and cinematically.” It comes out too smooth, too fast, and only once it’s hanging in the air do you realize: oh. That was out loud.

Apple Girl leans in slightly, still smiling like this is all perfectly casual. “Don’t worry. Caleb gives the best huggies when people get scared.”

Caleb tilts his head, looking at you. “Only if requested.”

Gideon snorts. “That’s true. Human furnace over there. Comes with unsolicited life advice and everything.”

Caleb elbows him—light, practiced. “Bold talk, considering you needed that hug after crying during the dog commercial last month.”

“That dog was brave,” Gideon mutters.

Processing the awkward tension? Not an option. Apple Girl’s already tugging on Caleb’s sleeve like she’s done it a hundred times. “Come on,” she grins. “They’re starting trailers.”

Gideon’s already turning. Apple Girl’s tugging. And you—

You’re still standing in the middle of the theater lobby, air thick with popcorn butter and confusion, staring at a boy who kissed you and then brought two other people to your not-a-date date.

This is either the most chaotic, unannounced double date known to man… or just four friends hanging out. And somehow, you can’t even begin to decide which is worse.

You follow them in, because what else can you do?

And that’s when you realize:

You still have to survive the next 120 minutes.

——————————————————————————

The theater is dim and cavernous, cold enough to raise goosebumps on your arms. Colors flash across the screen in quick cuts. You trail behind the others down the aisle, heart stuttering as they slide into seats.

Gideon.

Apple Girl.

Caleb.

And then… you.

Caleb turns slightly in his seat as you slide in next to him. “Don’t be scared,” he says, too close to your ear. “I’ll cover your eyes if it gets too terrifying. Like if there’s a serious lack of plot.”

You hum. “Terrifying is sitting in row seven of a date that came with a guest list.”

His grin widens, like he’s about to volley back—

But Apple Girl tugs lightly on his sleeve, asking something about the trailers. A director’s name. A past role. You don’t know. You’re too busy biting the inside of your cheek, trying not to scream into the void.

And then—because of course—the worst thing happens:

He shifts.

Smooth. Barely noticeable. Unless you’re the person whose leg suddenly has company.

You pull back, just slightly.

He doesn’t.

If anything, Caleb settles deeper into his seat, widening his stance like he has all the room in the world. And his knee brushes yours once again.

Your heart does a full gymnastics routine. Objection. Objection. O.B.J.E.C.T.I.O.N.

The lights dim.

The trailers start.

You: abort mission. it’s a friend hang out. help.

The screen glows too bright in the dark, lighting your face like a confession booth. You hunch lower into your seat, thumbs flying.

You: apple girl hugged me. gideon called me golden girl. I am going to pass away in this seat.

Newbie: ok wow. you’re inside a horror movie before the movie starts. you are LIVING THE GENRE. do not die before the popcorn.

You: he’s in the middle. like literally between me and apple girl. is this a sandwich?? is he the filling???

Newbie: i’m going to sue him recreationally.

You: i think i just agreed to a throuple by sitting down.

Newbie: ok but you’d be the main character in the throuple.

You glare at your phone. You are not laughing. You are spiraling. There is a difference.

You: what if i just… stand up. walk out.

Newbie: i’ll text you a distraction cue. tell me when.

You: i hate that you could probably actually pull that off.

Newbie: it would involve fire. but i’ve got the matches.

As if summoned—of course—a familiar rustle brushes over your screen. You glance up.

A bag of Sour Patch Kids is dangling directly in front of your phone. Caleb’s hand. A nudge, gentle. Just the bag, offered like a peace treaty.

You shake your head slightly, trying to finish typing.

You: i’m ignoring him.

Newbie: no you’re not.

You: shut up.

You peek up.

Caleb is still holding the bag, resting his elbow on the armrest like he has all the time in the world. His eyes flick to you.

One eyebrow lifts.

Challenge.

Fine.

A few candies are snatched and pocketed like survival gear and send off the last message.

You: if i survive this i’m never trusting another barista again.

Newbie: but would you kiss him again.

Caleb shifts beside you. Didn’t even notice he’d leaned in until his breath brushed your cheek—and then—

“Pretty sure lighting up an entire row with your phone is, like… illegal,” he whispers, lips barely grazing your ear.

You freeze. Feel your heartbeat trip into something off-rhythm. Your laugh gets caught halfway up your throat. You glance at him—he’s grinning. Very proud.

You want to cry. Or crawl into the popcorn machine. Or kiss him again, which might be worse.

The movie starts.

And your dignity ends.

You shove your phone into your pocket—right on top of the handful of Sour Patch Kids. They squish immediately, sugar and regret forming an unholy alliance. Future you is going to hate that.

Then you cross your arms. Lean back.

Try to look neutral. Try not to think.

Fail immediately.

Forty seconds in, someone on screen is already being creatively dismembered. You make a noise that might qualify as a prayer.

Caleb leans again. This time it’s a laugh, warm and close.

“You sure you’re a tough one?” he murmurs.

You shrug. Barely. Your neck is too stiff to move like a person.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Newbie: ok hear me out. i call your phone pretending to be your RA. say there’s a plumbing leak in your apartment. you cry. you run. no one questions it.

Newbie: other plan: i get someone to call the theater and say your childhood cat has been found. the one that ran away in third grade. emotional damage = airtight exit.

You: stop. that cat was the love of my life.

Newbie: you posted about him on your story last month. little guy had a bowtie. i was emotionally invested.

You snort—too loud—and immediately hunch down in your seat like that’ll make the screen glow from your phone less obvious.

Newbie: you cry on cue. whisper “mittens?” and make a run for it. it’s foolproof.

You’re halfway through imagining the scene—the shocked gasp, the whisper-shout “my cat’s alive?”, the emotional dash for the exit—

When Caleb nudges your elbow.

You glance up.

He’s already halfway out of his seat, moving past your knees with a quiet “Restroom. Be right back.”

You nod, heart thudding.

He walks a few steps up the aisle.

Then turns back.

Points.

And mouths:

Come.

——————————————————————————

You give it a think.

A good twenty seconds of sitting in the dark like a normal, well-adjusted human being.

You give it another twenty seconds.

And then, because you’re not a normal, well-adjusted human being—but rather a hormone soup in sneakers with a law degree in progress and a barista problem—you lean forward. Over Caleb’s empty seat. Toward Apple Girl.

You tap her shoulder. Try not to make a face about it.

“I’ve gotta—uh… toilet,” you whisper, gesturing vaguely.

She nods, smiles, and turns right back to the screen, already half-hiding her face in Gideon’s shoulder. He shifts to accommodate her like it’s second nature. Like he’s done this before.

You stand. Walk.

Up the aisle. Up. Up.

Until the murmur of the film and the wet crunch of popcorn fade into hallway silence.

The corridor’s empty now. All the theaters filled, all the energy pulled inward. The outside hush feels sacred somehow—too still for what’s happening inside your chest.

And there he is.

Leaning against the wall outside the screening room, one foot propped up, head tilted back like he’s inspecting the ceiling for moral guidance. Or modeling for a poster called Handsome: A Study in Contradictions.

Your breath catches. Hard.

He hears it—of course he does—and looks down, violet eyes catching yours like a net. And his whole face lights up.

“You came,” he says, pushing off the wall and walking toward you like he wasn’t the one who summoned you.

You try not to combust. “Honestly? I was about to fake a phone call and bolt. So thanks for the assist.”

He grins. “You were gonna ditch me? After I brought you candy?”

You roll your eyes, already regretting everything about your existence.

Then he adds, completely straight-faced:

“Was the hallway always this gorgeous, or did you just walk into it?”

You actually choke. “Caleb.”

“What?”

“That was corny enough to get you arrested.”

“I like to think it’s part of my charm.”

“Charm should be regulated.”

Caleb steps in a little closer, one brow arched like he’s waiting for the citation. “You look good.”

You breathe through it. The necklace against your chest—cool against skin that feels anything but. You’re wearing a piece of him and trying not to short-circuit.

“Thanks,” you say, as steadily as possible. “So does your… friend date.”

That pulls him up short—not offended, just thoughtful.

“She is my friend,” he says. “So is Gideon. We had plans—me and them—and I thought… I don’t know. I wanted you to be part of it too.”

“Oh,” you say. Quiet. Not bitter, just… small.

“But yeah,” he adds, slower now. “I should’ve said something. I didn’t think it’d feel weird, but… it does. You okay?”

You nod. Not because it’s entirely true. But because he’s asking.

His gaze dips. “Sour Patch contraband?” he asks, stepping even closer. And before you can stop him, his hand is already in your pocket. His actual hand. In your actual jacket. Warm fingers brushing yours as he blindly fishes for a candy like this is completely normal.

You freeze, every nerve ending on high alert. His knuckles graze the edge of your palm. He finds a candy, plucks it out, slow and triumphant.

“Didn’t peg you for someone who’d ration,” he says, biting into a blue one like he’s auditioning for a very specific kind of commercial. “Best flavor,” he adds around it, smug—then, still chewing, tips his head a little closer.

“Mmf—wanna half?” he offers mid-bite, voice garbled, mouth still full like he only half-thought it through.

And before you can even react—before your brain can register if this is a kiss setup or just him being the human embodiment of a heart attack—he’s already finished the damn thing. Swallowed it. Smiling.

“You were texting the newbie, right?”

You blink. “What?”

His grin tilts a little softer. “Heh. Kinda figured. You always text fast when you’re spiraling.”

Cheeks flare, heat rising fast, but he doesn’t let the moment stretch too long. Doesn’t press. Just stands there like a break in the storm. Then, quieter:

“Don’t go. Just stay, okay?”

And there it is. No teasing this time. No grin. Just that flicker of honesty that makes your ribs ache.

You nod once.

And he exhales—relieved.

A second passes. Then another.

And then—without asking—he steps closer.

Fingers brushing the fabric at your collarbone, Caleb gently tugs the chain out from where it hides under your shirt. The charm catches the light between you, cool silver against his warm fingers.

He glances at it. Then at you.

“Nice necklace,” he says, tucking it gently over your shirt. “You should show it off.”

Simple. Soft. Almost offhand. But his fingers linger just a beat too long. Then he sets it down carefully—right at the center of your chest, on top of the shirt where it’s visible now. Where it stays.

Your breath hitches—too obvious, too fast.

And when he steps back, he gives you the tiniest smile, and says, “Come on. Movie’s probably killed three people already.”

You hesitate. “It’ll look weird if we walk in together.”

He backs toward the door, already pushing it open. “Don’t care.”

It shouldn’t make your stomach drop like that.

But it does.

You hustle in after him, and your seats—of course—are still in perfect decapitation-viewing alignment. You slide in, settle. Caleb takes his seat next to you like nothing happened. Like you weren’t just unraveling in a hallway over his fingers touching yours.

The screen flashes.

Apple Girl jumps—literally screams—at the sudden jolt of sound, burying her face in Caleb’s shoulder. He pats her back. Comforting. Familiar.

Your stomach flips.

This. This is his idea of a sandwich.

You on one side. Her on the other. Emotional garnish optional.

Nope.

You straighten.

Put on your courtroom face.

Sink lower into your seat like you’re entirely unbothered by the murder montage flashing across the screen. Every time you flinch, you do it with lawyer-level restraint. No gasps. No jumps. Just tight jaw and narrowed eyes. You’re so composed it’s almost insulting.

Because Caleb may be smug and sweet and dangerously good at whispering in your ear,

But he is not getting a scared little horror sandwich tonight.

No way.

——————————————————————————

Part 12

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: Heeeere it is! I hope you had as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. I’m still having an absolute blast with this series—thank you so much for sticking with it. Sorry for the slight pause between updates; life got a bit in the way. But hang tight—more chaos, kisses, and courtroom-worthy emotional damage are on the way. I’m already deep into the next chapters!

#i’m sorry for the delay i hope you like this chapter #love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #you x caleb #non mc x caleb #barista caleb #fanfic love and deepspace #reader x caleb #Spotify

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chanelrolls · 21 days ago

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PART VII. caleb's series

n. it's advisable to read all parts of the series. cw: pseudocest

“don’t let him braid your hair.”

you, 12 | caleb, 14

it started with a braid.

nothing special, really. just a thick, loose one trailing down your back, tied with a little yellow ribbon that didn’t quite match your usual aesthetic. it wasn’t even done neatly, not like how you usually did it in the mornings with practiced, fluid fingers and a neat little tug at the end. no, this one was slightly lopsided, a little frizzy, and soft around the edges.

you’d been tired, your hands a little sore from sculpting in art class, and xavier - a quiet classmate with soft eyes and an even softer voice - had noticed. he’d offered, said he had sisters, said he knew what he was doing. you didn’t think much of it. it felt innocent. kind, even.

he’d been gentle, careful not to tug too hard, and when he tied the ribbon and stepped back with a small, proud smile, you had smiled too.

you didn’t think caleb would care.

why would he?

he’d never said anything about stuff like that before. never blinked twice when people complimented your hair or offered to help with your school bag or asked to sit beside you at lunch.

so when he came to pick you up that friday afternoon, his sleeves rolled to the elbows, bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, hair messy like he’d been raking through it in frustration - you didn’t expect him to stop short the moment he laid eyes on you.

or more specifically… your braid.

his eyes locked onto it like it personally offended him. “who did that?”

you blinked. “hm?”

“your hair,” he repeated, voice slower now. too slow. “that’s not how you usually do it.”

“oh. xavier,” you answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “he offered. said he’s got sisters, so he knows how to braid.”

there was a pause. a long one.

“…you let xavier touch your hair?” caleb asked, and his voice was calm. too calm. the kind of calm that came right before a storm.

you tilted your head, confused. “he was just being nice.”

caleb didn’t respond right away. he stepped toward you, just a few inches, and reached out, fingers brushing the braid like he was examining it for faults. and before you could blink, before the thought could even form in your head, he tugged the ribbon loose and unraveled it with a few swift movements.

“caleb!” you cried, half shocked, half annoyed. “what are you doing?!”

“it’s uneven, dummy.”

“it was fine!” you snapped, heat rising to your cheeks. “you’re so mean.”

he ignored you, like completely ignored you. like your indignation didn’t even register. instead, his fingers threaded through your hair, slow and sure and oddly gentle, as he combed through the strands, straightening them out like it was second nature. like he’d done this a hundred times before. like it belonged to him.

“…you shouldn’t let people touch your hair,”

you scoffed. “why not?”

he didn’t answer right away. his hands were still, resting lightly in your hair.

then finally, after a long pause: “…because you’re not just anybody.”

you froze, breath caught in your throat, and you didn’t know why that sentence hit the way it did - soft, simple, and a little possessive in a way he probably didn’t even realize.

“you’re you,” he added, quieter this time. “you don’t need some guy trying to impress you with a braid.”

“he wasn’t trying to impress me.”

“he was.”

“how would you know?"

caleb didn’t even hesitate. “i just do.”

there was something in his voice then. not loud, not dramatic, but sharp in a way that cut through the noise. pointed. like he wanted you to understand something deeper without spelling it out.

you didn’t say anything after that.

neither did he.

you walked home together as the late afternoon breeze played with the loose strands of your hair, lifting them like tiny ribbons in the wind. you glanced at him now and then, unsure if you were supposed to apologize, unsure if you’d done something wrong. but caleb didn’t look angry. just… quiet. like something had shifted, like a string had been tugged loose inside him and he hadn’t decided yet what to do with it.

later that night, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, scrolling through channels while the soft hum of the fridge filled the background. you heard his footsteps before you saw him, and when you looked up, he was standing there with a comb in one hand and a blue ribbon in the other.

it was from the inside tag of one of his old hoodies, he must’ve cut it off.

you raised an eyebrow. “…what’s that for?”

“don't ask, just turn around.”

“…why?”

“i’m gunna braid your hair.”

you blinked. “you know how?”

he shrugged, not meeting your gaze. “i watched a video, duh.”

“…for me?”

he didn’t answer.

just walked over, knelt behind you, and began to gather your hair in his hands like it was the most natural thing in the world. his touch was slow, careful, almost reverent - imperfect, but focused. his breath brushed the back of your neck as he worked, and you felt your heartbeat trip over itself more than once.

and when he tied the end with that navy blue ribbon, his ribbon, he murmured, almost too softly for you to hear: “if someone’s gonna touch your hair, it should be me.”

you didn’t know what to say to that.

so you didn’t say anything at all.

you just nodded, cheeks warm, heart doing cartwheels somewhere inside your chest.

and for the rest of the night, neither of you mentioned xavier again.

but caleb watched you a little more closely after that, a lingering glance here, a longer silence there. and you?

you started liking it when he did.

#lnds #lnds x reader #love and deepspace #lads headcanon #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb #caleb x non!mc reader #caleb xia #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb x y/n #caleb fic #caleb fluff #caleb brainrot

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aeyumicore · 1 month ago

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Hi hi! I finally figured out what I was doing wrong with not being able to pass Caleb's Gravity Orbit lvl 120, and it's my protocores. I saw some amazing protocores/builds that some players posted on tt and compared them to mine, and the ones I have equipped for his LR companion are not good enough. It's just that—FARMING FOR GOOD PROTOCORES IS SO ANNOYING AND TIME CONSUMING. Would you be comfy posting what your build is/which protocores you have equipped currently? BTW I AM SO SORRY FOR RAMBLING SO MUCH I'LL SHUT UP NOW—🥹

-🪽

GIRL WHY R U SORRY IM GONNA HIT U ON THE NOSE WITH A NEWSPAPER

pls don’t be sorry always ask me for help and ill try where i can <3

yes protocores make aLL the difference. i’d argue they are more important than maxing out your cards. but it;s incredibly expensive to level them up. i don’t even mind farming good ones. its just how much it costs to level them to 12/15…

here are the stats i used to beat gravity 120 (team1/LR on the left and team2/FA in the middle. the right hand pic #3 is my current best LR team)

here are my protocores for the team i used to beat team 1 on gravity 120 (so the 74 crit and 257 cdmg)

you’ll see a LOT of my cores are lvl 0. i focus on maxing out (or getting lvl 12 at least) my beta and delta core (the cube and triangle ones). i don’t even touch the alpha or gamma cores until much later (the diamond and the spiky star) because their main stat is fixed. additionally, these cores aren’t optimized - i haven’t gotten to the point of the game where i fully level a core and then i’m like hm, this could be better. i just level it up and use it if it works.

like some of these are DEF/DEF% which i was using for FA, but never bothered switching to a diff set for LR (who scales off ATK and not DEF like FA)

lmk if u need anything else <3 u got this bb

#✧.˖ aeyumi answers #caleb corner .ᐟ✧#♡ notes: 🪽 anon .ᐟ✧

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utilitycaster · 1 year ago

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How would the wizards win, they are knocked out easily and fragile as fuck???

Hi anon,

In the interest of verisimilitude I am running this combat play by play. Assumptions include:

Equipment is that of their last appearance (Echoes of the Solstice for the PCs but before Caleb gives his stone to Luc, and 2x141 for Essek) with the notable exception that no one has any potions

All magical items with charges are fully charged

The wizards have all necessary components for their spells

Caleb’s philosopher’s stone is on him and is set to constitution save proficiency, which is how Caleb usually has it set.

Caleb will not access spells that we have not seen him use previously

Essek gets the high level dunamancy spells though bc we left with him not accessing 9th levels and it seems reasonable he’d have these learned.

Characters are all level 20

The poll this is based on does not explicitly say to the death, so I am counting “at least one of the wizards survives and put Yasha somewhere she is not going to bother them” as a win condition for them.

For the purposes of this exercise I am going to make Essek a chronurgist but swap out the level 2 abilities (Chronal Shift and Temporal Awareness) for Adjust Density since we know he has the latter but “time is his speciality” as I don’t have his actual stat block.

Essek’s CON, WIS, CHA, and STR are unknown as are his HP. I have rolled for them, added his CHA bonus as a drow, and taken an ASI to one other stat. I have also just used the wizard default of 4 HP per level + con bonuses. I rolled (4d6 drop lowest): 16, 8, 14, and 11, which seems like a reasonable spread. I’m giving him 16 CHA (14+2 racial bonus), 16 CON, 8 STR, and 13 (11+2) WIS, which seems reasonable to me. His HP is therefore 6+4*19+3*20=142.

They all start at the corners of a square with sides 30 feet, as there is no 2D configuration of four equidistant points. Same teams are at diagonals from each other (ie, going clockwise, it goes Beau, Caleb, Yasha, Essek.)

In order to stave off any whining: if both wizards roll higher on the dice for initiative than both sentinel babes I will reroll. After that the dice shall tell their story.

Caleb is not allowed to cast Wish to simply win the fight even though that is the obvious answer and not prohibited per the rules of the poll because while that proves my point, actually running through the combat and demonstrating the general case of “wizards beat melee at L20 as a rule” is more fun for me.

Final and most important rule: I am a human person running through combat for four people. Will this be perfectly optimal in every way? No. If there is something egregiously wrong then mention it but if you simply had a different strategy then well, write it out yourself.

Combat below the jump:

Initiative: Caleb rolled 7 (modified to 9), Essek rolled 16 (modified to 19), Yasha rolled 15 (modified to 18), Beau rolled 3 on the d20 and 6 on the d8 from her boots of the vigilant (total of 14).

Round 1

Essek casts Hold Person on Yasha since he cannot cast it on both at once as they are 42.4 feet from each other. She fails with a natural 1. [L2 spell used - Essek]

Yasha rolls again at the end of her turn, and gets a 12, failing.

Beau runs to Essek and attacks him twice, using a ki point to stunning strike him on her first hit and attempting for all hits after until it succeeds. She rolls an 11 and a 14 to hit on the dice, which will hit. Essek rolls a natural 18 on his first con save, succeeding, but a 9 on his second, which fails, dropping his hold on Yasha. Beau just takes flurry of blows for her bonus action, with advantage, rolling a 17 and a 12 respectively at advantage. Total damage to Essek is 14+11+7+7=39 damage. (2 ki used) She can also extract aspects; he is a normal guy.

Caleb shapechanges into an ancient white dragon. He picks up Essek in a talon (object interaction) and flies 35 feet into the air.[L9 spell used - Caleb; concentration]

Round 2

Essek is stunned

Yasha summons her wings. She makes her Frightful Presence save with a natural 18 and flies almost into melee with Dragon!Caleb but that is her action. She rages as a bonus action.

Beau has no abilities nor items that extend more than 30 feet away. She may as well use Empty Body to become invisible and resistant to all damage though! (6 ki used total, 4 this round). She makes her frightful presence save with a 15 on the dice. Essek is no longer stunned.

Dragon!Caleb can get both Yasha and Beau in a cone of cold, DC 22. Yasha saves with a 17 on the dice and total of 27, Beau rolls a 3 and uses a ki point to reroll, getting a 9+10 which fails. This is a con save, so no evasion. I rolled extremely well (thanks google dice roller thing) and Beau takes 96 cold damage, halved to 48 from Empty Body. Yasha takes 48 cold damage as well, halved due to her saving throw. Caleb rolls a 6 on the d6; this ability recharges. He then flies 80 feet away from Yasha.

Round 3

Essek casts Ravenous Void 30 feet behind Yasha such that he and Caleb are outside of the spell’s 100 foot range. Beau is however also in range, though neither she nor Yasha are within range of the sphere, merely the 100 foot event horizon. [L9 spell used, Essek; concentration].

Yasha must make a strength save, which she makes with a 14 on the die, against Essek’s DC of 20. She moves 25 feet towards Caleb and Essek as she is in difficult terrain (yes, even in the air.) She uses her battle cry ability as a bonus action, granting Beau advantage on attacks and saves.

Beau makes a strength save as well, and makes it with a natural 18. She can activate her maelstrom gloves at this point I suppose, as her action. She also runs from the sphere, along the ground, at half speed (35 feet); she will use step of the wind to dash as a bonus action (70 feet). She is still within the range of the spell this turn.

Caleb can hit Yasha with the cold damage again. She makes her save with a 15 on the dice. I rolled much more poorly this time; she takes 32 damage. His breath weapon does NOT recharge this round as I rolled a 4.

At the end of round 3: Caleb has 333 HP as a dragon and has used one 9th level spell on which he is concentrating. Essek has 103 HP as himself and has used one 2nd level spell and one 9th level spell, the latter on which he is concentrating. Beau has 144 HP and is invisible; she has used 8 of her 20 ki points. Yasha has 148 HP and is currently raging.

Round 4

Essek casts lightning bolt on Yasha at 5th level. She fails her dex save (16+3 = 19, his DC is 20), taking 10d6 lightning damage, or 26 points per my roll. (Yasha is at 122 HP).

Yasha makes a strength save at advantage against Ravenous Void, just making it with a 10, but Essek uses Convergent future to make her fail. Yasha is pulled into the Ravenous Void; Essek takes one level of exhaustion. Yasha takes 5d10 force damage (another 26 points) and is restrained. (Yasha is at 94 HP).

Beau rolls a 15, succeeding with a 21. She successfully runs out of the range of ravening void and stays there. HOWEVER she is now within Dragon!Caleb’s blindsight radius.

Caleb gets directly above Beau and attacks her with his multiattack. He rolls a 9, 17, and 15 on the dice and gets +14 on all three attacks, dealing 2d10+8, 2d8, 2d8+8, and 2d6+8 damage total, all of which will be halved. That added up was a 72 total, halved to 36 for Beau who is now at 108 HP. He rolls a 5 on the d6, recharging his breath weapon. All attacks are made at minimum 10 foot reach, putting him outside the range of Sentinel; he returns to 40 feet above Beau.

Round 5

Yasha is out of range, so, upon realizing what’s going on, Essek casts See Invisibility on himself and can now see Beau, but that is his action.

Yasha takes another 34 damage from the Ravenous Void and makes a strength save at advantage; she makes it and is no longer restrained. She can get 15 feet out of the sphere. (Yasha is at 60 HP)

Beau can I guess run 70 feet away from the wizards.

Caleb uses his breath weapon again on Beau. She rolls a 5 on the dice, which is a failure on the con save. She takes 39 (79 halved) damage. Beau is now at 69 HP (nice). The breath weapon does not recharge this round.

Round 6

Essek casts Gravity Sinkhole where Beau is. She rolls a 4 on the dice and fails her Con save, taking the full 5d10 force damage (27) which isn’t halved by Empty Body. Beau is now at 42 HP.

Yasha succeeds on her saving throw and is now 40 feet out of the sphere, 50 from the center. She needs to make her next two rounds of saves to get out of the range of the spell, but takes no damage this round. She heals herself up 20 points, to 80, as her action.

Beau runs another 70 feet away.

Caleb goes after Beau, who I assume is running at a tangent to the radius of Ravenous Void, and dashes, catching up but is not able to attack.

Round 7

Essek uses momentary stasis on Beau. She rolls a 9 on her Con save, failing with a total of 19; she is incapacitated and has a speed of zero.

Yasha rolls a 3 and a 4 on her next saving throw, failing her strength save, and is pulled back into the center of the sphere, taking 5d10 (33) damage. Yasha is at 47 HP.

Beau is incapacitated.

Caleb makes his multiattack, dealing 57 total, halved to 28. Beau is now at 14 HP. Caleb’s breath weapon does not return.

Round 8

Essek casts gravity sinkhole again at Beau. She rolls a 19, making her con save, but still takes 5d10 halved. I rolled a 28, halved to 14, precisely knocking her unconscious.

Yasha takes 25 force damage from the center of the sphere and makes her save, moving out from the center of the sphere. Yasha is at 22 HP.

Beau rolls a 2 on her first death save. This however does not matter, because...

Caleb lands and attacks Beau, taking her death saves and killing her. His breath weapon does not return.

Round 9

Essek hangs out in Caleb’s talons, chilling.

Yasha makes her strength save and moves out from the center of the sphere. She is again 50 feet from the center.

Caleb flies to the edge of the radius of Essek’s spell and lands.

Round 10

Essek gets out of Caleb’s talons and stands but is otherwise still chilling.

Yasha makes her strength save and dashes, reaching the wizards but is not able to attack them. She is no longer raging, having taken no damage nor attacked in a round, so she rages again.

Caleb drops Shapechange and casts Disintegrate. Yasha rolls an 11, for a dex save of 14, failing. She is reduced to 0 HP by Disintegrate, which turns her into dust and kills her because she is still dust even though she is raging.

Conclusion: I did to be fair roll like absolute shit for Beau but it was ultimately a game of dragon-and-monk anyway; once they're in the air and she's not and Yasha's unable to come to her aid, she's fucked. The second Beau fails to stunning strike one of the wizards, and Caleb gets a +9 assuming he has all his favorite magic rocks around him against Beau's 18 DC, so this is not out of the question, they can and will either turn into a dragon with a +14 to con saves and also who can fly, or cast "gravity hates you personally" at 9th level.

I would also note that Yasha's 101 damage in one hit in Echoes of the Solstice relies on several buffs from - you guessed it - magic users, as well as a crit. (fun fact! I rolled zero nat 20s during this, which is kind of weird although also I was mostly only rolling saves). Neither she nor Beau can one-shot one of the wizards on their own - even if they're teaming up only on one of them it's going to take 2-3 rounds, and meanwhile the other has, again, cast "fuck you" at 9th level in the meantime.

#answered #Anonymous #long post #cr tag

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patopq · 7 days ago

Text

Nott & jester supercut timestamps

TLDR: for my first c2 watch, i wrote down every timestamp of every nott-jester moment in the campaign and.. here they are

so, a friend told me we could split work, so now there ARE chances im ever doing this in video form at some point. in the meantime ill just leave them under the cut if anyone wants them at hand.

disclaimer: it WOULD be only timestamps but i left notes for myself so i could find these moments later. there's a mix of spanish and this is not really.. made to be understandable, its a guide for future me but i also find it hilarious.

there are also sam & laura moments

this genuinely helps me as a tool to look up what happens in what episode. its like.. uh when was that moment?? oh right around the time jester and nott send a letter to caleb's ex girlfriend.. i prob wrote that down XD

yes, you can find every nott & jes moment that has ever fucking happened and if theres something missing absolutely tell me so i can add it!! the video is not being made yet (at times i did have to think to myself.. ok maybe this moment isnt worth adding or it'll be TOO long)

TIMESTAMPS:

Ep1 0:37:52 are you guys staying here? "Dont move tiefling can only see movement" Ep1 55:43 look at all these friends we're making here Ep2 3:41:40 Ep2 4:01:13 "it was Ornna" Ep3 1:53:57 good cop / bad cop Ep4 3:54:57 "beau, let the detectives figure this out" Ep5 0:37:35 jester gives nott flowers Ep5 2:55:04 jester cura a nott "oh no nott 😔" Ep7 2:17:34 nott & jester HDYWTDT Ep9 0:36:22 "i was desanitising him" Ep10 0:40:07 nott borrows jesters ring NOTT moment Ep10 46:20-46:26 / 48:09-48:38 Ep11 0:48:21 laura sees sam's cask Ep12 2:22:38 trying to throw a grappling hook Ep12 3:15:20 "i save nott" Ep13 3:49:30 pumat reading tary's book Ep14 1:27:36 Jester's fartsEp16 1:24:35 nott & the rings Ep16 3:49:54 "make out with him" Ep16 3:52:30 "gee, i should take baths more often" Ep17 0:52:44 & 53:42 "ill bet agaisnt her" Ep17 1:38:13 "jester! should i shoot him?" Ep19 0:25:12 & 0:27:18 nott betting for jester Ep20 0:14:31 nott pukes whiskey Ep22 3:07:04 "maybe mermaids rescued you" Ep22 3:09:32 Ep23 1:17:08 "kiri do you want some human jerky" Ep24 0:13:25 jester gives nott a sparkler Ep24 1:01:10 but caleb. We want to dance with you Ep24 1:47:09 J&N macarena dance (drinking game) Ep26 2:36:43 'jester says im a great detective' Ep29 3:43:37-:42 & 44:08-:24 & 44:48 "case closed" Ep30 0:13:58 "case closed" (again) Ep30 0:27:38 "snuggle up for body warmth" Ep30 3:09:14 "afraid? Im not afraid of anything!" Ep31 18:56-21:39 sending a letter to the solstryce academy concerning Astrid Ep31 1:53:38-54:00 & 58:13 & 58:39 & 59:14 2:00:37 N&J sullying a temple Ep32 1:55:35-1:56:55 Nott meets Jester's mom Ep32 1:57:43 "she CAN heal, she's able to" Ep32 2:18:28 J&N draw the gentleman Ep36 0:30:11 "no, you go next" Ep36 0:35:02 J&N interrogan a un pirata Ep37 1:20:51 Laura y sam whispering uk'otoa Ep37 1:43:26-44:41 & 44:53 checking fjord's abs Ep38 0:28:13 nott trying to lie to jester about rubies Ep39 1:30:04-1:30:30 Nott on (fruit) drugs Ep39 2:34:21-36:34 & 38:01-39:02 & 39:58 & 42:04-42:37 J&N awesome shot, fluffernutter Ep39 3:29:11 Fluffernutter shot going off Ep41 0:21:14-26:11 J&N talk the kiss Ep41 2:07:34-48 & 08:30 descubren el potencial del pincel magico Ep42 2:44:32-42 "dont let go nott" "oh im letting go" Ep42 2:51:29-52:40 "are you saying.. that we made a mistake?" Ep44 1:02:33 "auto-tuna" nott moment Ep45 2:08:02 "are we being replaced?" Ep45 0:38:15-39:46 meeting twiggy & the flower in jester's hair Pt1 Ep45 4:33:57 "i think it worked" flower Pt2 Ep46 0:43:04 is he hitting on you Ep46 2:37:16- nott fears going to the water Ep47 1:32:45-33:15 "thanks mom" Ep47 1:57:18 "that's if there's ANY LEFT 🗣️" (money) Ep48 3:18:02 "no, there's people out there he knows, you dummy" Ep48 3:53:26- laura after seeing notts backstory Ep52 1:10:57-11:12 J&N & the minotaur Ep52 3:39:19 J&N ringing 2 bells Ep52 3:47:12-49:21 & 50:43-52:40 & 53:06-:49 J&N talk to that lady "we're a dinamyc duo" Ep54 0:55:07-:32 "so what's yer name, ey?" "Ohhh" Ep54 1:41:59-42:57 "we might need a man to take care of us, fjord" Ep57 1:20:01-21:54 & 23:16-:25 & 23:53-26:07 & 26:31-:44 & 26:50-27:02 & 29:15-30:00 & 33:24-:30 & 35:02-:23 nott reunites with yeza Ep57 3:01:47 "a bone?" Jester tattoos yeza & Nott Ep58 2:34:42-35:58 Ep58 2:37:37-39:24 calling luc (Veth's son) Ep58 2:40:58-41:43 "I LOVE YOU" Ep60 3:46:25 watching yasha, sleeping under leaves Ep61 0:55:51 thinking of a way to humiliate bodo

Ep61 1:03:25-:55 half the party dressed as Bodo and 2nd half as his lover, performing his poem Ep62 1:12:22-14:53 caleb finds out J&N sent a letter to the solstryce academy regarding Astrid 17:18 N&J regret doing the letter Ep63 0:47:11 CYCLE BROKEN Ep64 0:29:28-30:00 bcs you are shiny, blue and beautiful? Ep64 1:05:04 "im real drunk" "oh nott :(" Ep65 2:55:07 jester is rlly bad at sending messages Ep66 1:10:35 jester steals nott's flask (pay attention to laura and sam here) EP69 0:18:58 nott asks about her flask Ep70 2:31:29-32:11 deciding who's talking to the birght queen Ep71 57:50 my sam riegel is showing Ep71 2:23:08-:30 lauras reaction to nott possibly leaving the m9 Ep76 2:46:13-:50 & 47:16-:38 & 47:56-50:03 killing the innocent guard Ep77 2:25:30-26:56 updating yeza on details Ep77 2:28:56-29:18 yeza didnt understand the message Ep77 2:38:04-39:30 checking on ~~the gentleman~~ dad Ep80 0:20:06-:30 & 21:04 who stole the beacon Ep80 0:22:01-:53 J&N try to act normal Ep80 1:34:10-:25 (beau just discovered where the heart that obann is seeking is but jester had said it before) Ep81 1:01:07 jester throws nott into the abbys of doom Ep81 1:15:22-:34 "r u gonna throw me into the abbys (again)?" Ep81 3:26:41-:55 there have been attacks in hupperdook "thats where kiri is you guys" "was" Ep82 is jester in love with the traveler? Ep83 59:27 ask me a question only i would know Ep83 1:12:35 this is essentially a crime scene Ep84 2:56:47-47:00 jester wants to pull fjord aside Ep84 2:58:41 what do you think they're talking abt? Ep84 3:01:26 what do you think they're talking abt? Ep85 1:39:29-40:23 & 40:47 & 43:14-34 discussing if they want to go see the gentleman or not Ep85 3:19:27-20:08 & 20:40 nott and brave lawfirm got mail Ep86 3:59:28-:47 entering the weird ass obann cult, they took nott Ep90 0:25:36 thats what we do best, steal and solce mysteries Ep91 im trying to find my place in the world Ep91 1:21:45 howndis the lady that teansformed nott look like Ep91 1:39:41 what am i doing wrong you guys Ep92 2:43:02-47:27 Ep93 2:37:16 "we're listening to matt" Ep93 2:49:35 sneaking into the hag's hut Ep93 immidietaly after dealing with the hag Ep95 "i mean, how old are you?" Ep96 1:50:49 talking to eremis stone. ep96 3:18:00 "im asking you to open your heart to chaos :)" Ep97 1:40:58-41:35 Ep97 2:57:41 talking to lord dezrain thain Ep97 1:44:16-45:07 & 1:46:30 notts ritual to becoming veth :) Ep98 0:44:12 an advice for jester sendings Ep99 1:02:48 Ep100 0:26:58 no explanation needed Ep101 0:31:11 Ep101 2:14:40-16:08 Ep103 27:13 Ep104 1:46:19 talking to the trees in rumblecusp Ep106 51:30-:34 & 51:56 good use of control water Ep106 1:35:05 the traveler con people are arriving the island Ep106 1:43:17 "we have a probletunity" Ep107 26:34 brainstorming traveler con (oh god) Ep107 1:16:28 about dick-hunt Ep107 2:09:43-10:17 deciding if to go hubt the big or small Trex Ep108 44:47-45:03 whats going to happen at traveler con? Ep108 1:33:33 nott anouncing jessie at trav. con Ep108 3:15:44 "give it to her now!" (the great 108-115 depression. i prob binged so much i forgot i was making this. i had vacations ok) Ep115 49:47-51:48 asking abt dagen's love life Ep118 2:01:49 jester getting used to being 5 years older now Ep119 3:17:17-:24 Ep122 36:58-37:17 & 37:33 Ep123 2:48:29 veth find out about fjorester Ep123 3:09:23 veth gives jester a lil something Ep126 31:31 Ep129 1:17:17-19:10 & 19:34 heavily considering a detective agency Ep131 3:14:07 jesters death wishes Ep133 2:56:40 deadnaming veth Ep134 1:07:56 "i wish i had jester here" Ep134 2:33:30 beau is great tho Ep135 2:27:05 saying goodbye to the aeormaton Ep139 40:01 but you've stolen from me.. Ep140 4:38:57 wanna paint a big dick? Ep141 47:54 sending a message to yeza as veth Ep141 3:46:09 jester, you're the painter Ep141 4:15:21 veth, the one with the giant tots Ep141 4:34:32 detective agency Ep141 5:14:35 tattoo req

shortcuts or stuff:

N&J = nott & jester This is unrelevant to you as a viewer but in case you were wondering what the signs meant, they are a guide for me: [ _:_ - _:_ ] means: 'starts in _ and ends in _' [ _:_ & _:_ ] means: 'starts in _, then it starts pt2 with a gap between those 2 clips' (but its all the same scene. im just skipping unrelevant moments) if there's no "_:_ - _:_" then its bcs i trust future me to have the same train of thought as i did when i wrote down the timestamp, thats why i end up not writing down the "when to finish the clip"; future me will know what to do

#look this shit was a COMMITMENT ok. im more of a jester fan than my fucking widogast-filled blog gives me credit for i swear #nott & jes what if we were friends like... irl #a lot of this is left like ehh ill know what to do later. because im me and i share a brain with myself so. to ME this is completely #understandable. but if someone tried to do something with these notes alone im afraid they wouldnt understand shit #also if enough ppl are interested i could attach links to it but that would take time to do. so yk. a LOT of ppl better want that. srry #CHAOS CREW #not rlly #just chaotic duo #nott the brave #veth brenatto #jester lavorre #critical role #mighty nein #patopq #critical role spoilers

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thepenultimateword · 2 years ago

Text

Skin Crawl

CW: Bugs, Bug horror, bullying

Hero scrubbed uselessly at the permanent marker, but even with the rubbing alcohol stinging their nose and their shoulders sore from vigor, an outline of obscenities stubbornly marred the top corner of the desk.

Hero sighed, leaning back on their heels. How did they even get roped into this? They’d only pointed out the spattering of language to their teacher so that they could punish those responsible. They hadn’t been volunteering to clean up the mess themselves. But the teacher had seemed so pleased with their willingness to help…how could they have refused?

They glanced to the back of the classroom where their dark haired classmate leaned way back in their seat, feet kicked up on their desk, book held open directly overhead.

“Are you…going to help?”

“Sure,” they waved without looking away from their page. “You can go if you want. I’ll do the rest.”

Hero straightened their aching back. “Will you?”

It came out a little snarkier than they’d intended, but Villain wasn’t exactly known for their work ethic. They were always coming to school late, staring off, or ignoring assignments. Unlike Hero, they hadn’t volunteered for classroom cleanup.

Villain cocked their head to the side, raising one dark brow. “How many times have you cleaned this classroom?”

“Well, just this once—“

“How many times have I cleaned this classroom?”

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t count all the times you mess around—“

“Oh yes, you do. You have that cute little book with all the tallies.”

Hero’s face burned.

But for some reason, Villain didn’t sound angry, just…making a point.

"Go on, open up to my page. Tell me how much experience I have staying after school."

Hero shouldered their backpack with a huff. "Ok, I get it. Just...make sure you drop the classroom key at the office when you're done. I don't want to lose the staff's trust because of you."

"Yes, master," Villain said and went back to their book.

Hero hesitated. Part of them still didn't trust their classmate to continue where they'd left off. Could this be a ruse to get them in trouble? Or maybe they just wanted Hero out of their hair and didn't care about the consequences.

Or maybe you need more faith in people.

Ugh. That was hard when everyone in this school had proven untrustworthy. Even the friends they'd made from the 'good crowd' hadn't lasted past the first month of the school year. None of them had what it took to stand up against immorality. They'd rather turn a blind eye and cut ties with anyone who might stir up the hornet's nest.

Whatever.

They grabbed their notebook off their desk and whisked out of the room. Now, what misdeeds had they borne witness to today? They flipped open to the middle of the boo; they might as well report these to the office before heading home.

11:45am--Caleb stuck gum on the inside of his desk sticking together the pages of the math textbook

11:50--Kayla texted in class for half an hour straight and did not complete any of her schoolwork.

12:30--An unknown underclassman with red hair shoved a smaller boy at lunch and took his place in line (please identify).

12:45--Taylor C. was making out with her boyfriend in front of the east stairs between classes, blocking off the way for anyone needing to use them. She also used some choice language against a well-meaning student who asked her to refrain until they left the grounds.

12:48--Victor verbally harassed an underclassman girl in the hallway despite her repeated refusals for acquaintanceship; he did not respond well to outside interven--

Hero's notebook hit the floor with a loud smack.

For a moment all they could do was stare at their empty hands in shock, then they lifted their gaze to the sneering, chiseled face in front of them.

"How many times did it make it into Book Golden Rule now?"

"Only once today, Victor," Hero said, bending for the book. Victor snatched it just before their fingers could brush the spine. At about the same moment, someone kicked them behind their right knee. Hard.

Hero gasped, collapsing onto the sneaker-smudged tile.

Victor flicked casually through the pages, stopping at his own tally sheet near the front. "Wow, my infraction rap is growing. You must be obsessed with me or something. Kinda gross but I guess you can't help it."

A chorus of laughter sounded over Hero's shoulder, and suddenly they were surrounded on all sides. They defiantly looked into the perpetrator's faces, memorizing identities: Caleb, Rick, Renna.

"Just give it back," Hero said dryly. "You're only making this worse on yourself."

Victor laughed now. "Really now? Your self-righteous ego is so big you still think you've got the upper hand here?"

"Not physically obviously, but anything you do to me, I'm just going to add it to my report."

Victor stared Hero dead in the eyes and slowly tore the notebook in half.

"I'm going to beat you so soundly, you won't even look at me without peeing yourself. You're going to look away from everything I do because all you'll remember is the pain of this moment.

"I'd never turn a blind eye for my own personal--"

The words scattered as Victor's fist met their mouth. Before they could recover he hit them again. And again. And again. A cleated food hit them from behind, sending a stab of electric agony up their spine. Dangerous. This wasn't just a scuffle. They wanted to seriously hurt them!

The next punch threw Hero on their back. They'd never been one for envy, but suddenly they wished they had one of those combat powers, super strength, invincible skin, knife fingers, anything actually useful for defeating evil!

Army boots smashed over their fingers.

Hero screamed.

"Shut them up!" Victor snarled.

Caleb's shaved head bent over them, and something knit and strongly scented of sweat was forced between their teeth and far enough in to make them gag. They spasmed but movement only made Caleb lean in harder. They couldn't breathe!

Where was the principal? Where were the teachers? Someone had to be hearing this? Someone here had to care?

The boots hit their ribs and tears gathered in their eyes.

"Aww, the wittle baby is cwying," Renna said. She balanced one foot on the center of Hero's chest and slowly leaned in her weight. "How does it feel when someone steps on you?"

Hero wanted to say that exposing someone for cheating wasn't crushing anything deserved, but there was too much sweater down their windpipe.

"Hey."

The group jolted and some of the wight lifted. Hero's vision was blurred, but between Victor and Rick's shoulders, they made out unkempt midnight hair and lanky limbs. Villain.

"If it isn't Psycho," Victor practically purred. "You want to get a few blows in too? Go nuts."

Hero's screaming insides twisted. They cared more about facts than rumors but they'd also never been this helpless in front of their dark classmate, as alone and outcast as they were but for totally different reasons. Villain supposedly had a penchant for macabre experimentation. Students said they had a devil in them. That they ate the raw innards of animals to feed it and placed curses on anyone who messed with them. There was even a rumor that they dissected a kid who made fun of them in class. Hero always found that one ridiculous, the student probably just moved away. But now, pinned and gagged and Villain getting closer they were having doubts.

Villain stopped directly in front of them. "Let the angel go."

Victor gaped for a moment. "Are you kidding? They write you up almost as much as me. You think all those after-school detentions come from thin air?"

Villain only slow blinked. "I'm giving you 5 seconds to get out of here before I do go psycho. Unlike angel, my problem-solving is more physical."

"Get out of here," Victor said waving Villlain away before back toward Hero, though the rest of his crew looked a little more nervous.

Villain shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Their mouth opened wide, cavernous. The inside might have actually been black for all Hero could see. Though something almost seemed...to move.

The first centipede dropped on Renna's boot.

"What the..." She kicked it off, lip curled in disgust. "Did you just throw--" As she turned back, she let out a splitting scream. Everyone whirled. Caleb lost his grip on the sweater gag, and Hero finally managed to roll to the side, coughing and spitting. When they raised their head again a mass of black centipedes scurried across the floor, swarming the group's shoes and wriggling up their legs. The great arthropods dropped in heavy droves from Villain's lips, some crawling down the sides of his face and neck in rapid desperation to get to the floor. Through it all Villain was still and unflinching though their eyes danced with dark amusement.

"You freak!" Victor shrieked slapping off bugs--all four perpetrators were already littered with angry bites. "You're possessed! You're--"

He cut off as a low buzz gathered in the back of Villain's throat, this time the bugs emerged as a cloud, a swarm of wasps, as black and large as the centipedes.

"Forget this!" Rick cried, taking off at top speed Renna and Caleb were close behind. Victor looked like he wanted to curse them out but all he managed was a rude hand gesture before taking off after his posse.

The centipedes followed in a dark wave, cutting a path on either side of Hero. Villain let them go, though a deep inhale sucked the wasp swarm, and a few stragglers on their shirt, back down.

Hero stared. Villain stared back. Hard black eyes evaluating. Hero's breath caught in their chest, which was probably for the best. It hurt to breathe right now.

“You know it’s being an insufferable goody two shoes that keeps getting you in trouble," Villain finally said.

Hero rose achily to their feet, brusquely wiping their face with a stifled sniffle. "Yeah, well...no one asked you." Tears threatened to spill full force over their lashes, so they began quickly gathering up the pages of their shredded notebook. "I'm going to have to add a tally for physical violence in school. I can't be biased."

Villain barked an incredulous laugh. "You're really something else, you know that?"

"And you have centipedes living in your stomach."

"Not sure if they actually live there, more like they materialize there when I want them."

"And how'd you figure that out?"

Villain smiled. "You mean you don't commonly dream of centipedes?"

Not really an answer but Hero snorted, catching themself with a wince on the wall as they did.

Slender fingers gripped their shoulders. "You should sit down."

Hero obeyed without argument. They probably looked completely pathetic right now. Tear stained, bruised, shaking. They'd always sworn it didn't matter how many people disliked them as long as they had their dignity. So much for that.

Hero ducked their head between their knees.

"Why'd you help me? Victor's right. I get you in trouble almost daily."

Villain slid down on the floor next to them. "Yeah. But being a massive pain in the butt doesn't mean you deserve to get beaten up. Besides, some of the things they do need to be exposed. And...it's impressive that you're not scared to do it."

Hero didn't fully know how to respond. That someone needed to care? That obviously when five students screaming at the top of their lungs didn't even crack a door there was a problem? Yes, they'd realized early on that putting things on paper was the best way to get results, but it wasn't like they were completely without ulterior motives either. Did choosing to confront the bad for self-serving motives make them any better than those who turned away? Villain had called them angel. But they were far from it.

"Is it a power?" Hero said, shoving away the thoughts and pointing at their mouth instead.

Villain nodded.

“Cool.” They couldn’t help the note of awe.

“Really?”

Hero looked them head on. “Yeah. I guess it’s unconventional, but you took on four people and won without moving an inch. That’s a real power.”

"You don't think it's disgusting?” For the first time Villain looked something close to vulnerable. Like Hero’s reply had thrown them off so much they’d forgotten their nonchalance. “It doesn’t make your skin crawl?"

"Not really." Hero looked up and down the vacant hallway. They wet their lips, took a deep breath, and shed their skin. They’d done it in the mirror enough times to know it was disturbing. It wasn’t the sort of shapeshifting that happened in glamorized movies. It was messy. Sometimes bloody if they went too fast. They looked at Villain with a mirror of their face. “That make your skin crawl?"

Villain grinned. "Not really."

A beat.

“So that’s how you get the dirt on so many people.”

Hero flushed and shed back into their own skin.“Most of the time yeah. They usually cover things up if they see me.”

Villain’s eyes roved them up down, hard and cutting and dark, like black diamonds. “Amazing.”

Hero shrugged, trying to pretend that gaze was not cutting them to the core. “It’s not a useful power. I connive against evil. I don’t beat it. After graduation I want to try for Allegiance Academy but…well you saw. What hero team would want someone who can’t even fight? Even with combat classes I’d never compare to the big powerhouses.”

Villain didn’t respond.

Great. Hero opened up to much. They’d gotten whiny with a practical stranger. They’d gotten Hero out is tight spot, not asked for their life’s dreams and woes

“Don’t hero teams need reconnaisance?” Villain said

Hero blinked. “I guess so.”

They’d never really thought about it before. That wasn’t the sort of role that showed up on the news. It wasn’t the thing that got peace prizes or admirers. But…maybe that was fine. They’d always craved power for the sake of being accepted into the academy and eventually chosen for a team, not for the sake of attention. Besides they were used to being alone; they were fine with it.

"Well, I better finish that cleaning," Villain said, pushing to their feet. "I wouldn't dare risk another infraction."

"Villain," Hero said before they got too far.

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For the help. You're...good."

Villain crooked a smile. "Never been called that before. Probably won't again. But I appreciate it."

With that, they were gone.

Perhaps Hero didn't need to be alone after all.

8 years later…

Hero straightened their silk tie in the rearview mirror, a silvery ribboned thing they normally wouldn't have gone for but couldn't say they disliked. Though maybe that was because it suited this face. Round, prim, pink-lipped, nothing like their own drab, haggard countenance. They swore each time they returned to their true skin it looked worse.

They quickly double-checked their current contours with the photo in their glove box. "So, this is our target's lover?"

"Remy Navarro," their earpiece crackled. "They've been together six months, and they are very involved in this villain's inside plans. We're thinking 24 hours tops before you come across something big."

Hero stepped out of the car and began weaving their way through the menagerie of fine-dressed gala members. "Ok, well you rushed me into this, anything else I should know before I find this criminal overlord?"

Their teammate hesitated at the other end of the line. "Just don't act surprised about the legs."

"Legs?" Hero said. "As in, they look weird?"

"As in. there are extras."

"Excuse me? I'm really beginning to think I didn't get a proper debrief."

"It was an unexpected opening. We had to take it. Anyways you're good at improvising."

Hero dodged around a cocktail tray. "I appreciate your faith in me, but I'm better at improvising when I've had a week to carefully study my subject's personality and mannerisms. I mean what is my personality? Are they an affectionate couple?"

Silence and then finally, "You'll be fine."

"Are you kidding me? Other Hero! Other Hero?"

They'd dropped the line, hadn't they? Hero sighed, stuffing the earpiece into their pocket. Sure, they'd do better without distractions, but this was verging on insanity. Other Hero had better gather more info on their new identity before tomorrow.

They stopped in front of an intricately carved set of double doors at the tops of the stairs. The private quarters of the newest villainous boss their team had begun tracking. The assignment was a rush job so all they had was a blueprint layout and the supposition that tonight's gala was prepared as a cover for something big.

They rapped quietly on the wood before immediately easing the door open. Lovers would be comfortable enough to do that, right?

A tall figure turned as they entered. Long midnight hair fell over dark-clad shoulders. Dark, hard eyes stared out of an even harder face. And yes, there were extra legs, though not the kind Hero had been expecting: they were black, rigid, clawed things sticking out from their sides, almost like those of an insect. Meanwhile, a pair of pitch-colored moth wings folded on their back, the tails gliding on the floor like drapery.

"Took you long enough," the villain said. A black centipede crawled down their cheek and settled like a parrot on the villain's shoulder.

Hero froze on the threshold, desperately trying to connect their dropped jaw back to their brain so they could snap it shut.

It had been years since they'd seen this dark figure; their jaw seemed even sharper, their lankiness had turned to elegant slenderness, and the bug parts were new, but Hero recognized them immediately.

Villain.

Part Two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

#hero x villain #hero x villain sidekick #heroes and villains #creative writing #heroes and villains community #writing snippet #writblr #villain #shapeshifter #writing community #fiction #childhood friends

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screechingfromthevoid · 7 months ago

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Molly is a BITCH and I LOVE him SO MUCH

#caleb's 12 hit points #excuse the j*hn mula*ey reference #but like its true #mollymauk tealeaf

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rockshitty · 4 months ago

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Thoughts on Campaign 2 Episode 1 for the nein again rewatch party. The first half hour, hourish is rough. Pretty much until they get out of the tavern is awkward characters bumping against each other and voices they're still figuring out. Basically as soon as they're out of the tavern it settles and the characters start to be recognizable. Caleb hesitating the first couple times he gives a stranger his name is super fun to have context for. Nott and Beau speaking halfling back and forth too. Level 2 combat is wild after the damage and magic output from their late game builds. Nott doing 14 whole points of damage is incredible. Every once in a while someone rolls and 9 and doesn't make the noise. I miss the noise. 12 just barely hits. Doing stupid bits and lying to the guards, and immediately getting attacked. Level 2 baby. We're so back.

#nein again #critical role

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wickedsrest-rp · 2 months ago

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Welcome to our WRW! We do these weekly to provide plot drops, challenges, and highlight starters. Anyone is welcome to use these bullet points. Let us know if you want us to include one of your setting-related plots in here for next week by sending us a bullet point!

CURRENT EVENTS:

That's a wrap on opening week! Huge shoutout to our members for hitting the ground running and making opening successful.

Do you believe in magic? It might not believe in you. Recent fluctuations in the town's magic have led to brownouts and surges, sending spells awry and making control of all kinds more difficult for Wicked's Rest residents to hold onto. Read all about it in our first chapter!

April showers bring May flowers, but they also bring worms. So many worms. Specifically, the guivre at the Old Factory, which has temporarily taken to expanding its territory and wandering around Worm Row in search of people to rob. Police are baffled by multiple reports of a worm stealing wallets.

One of the Art Walk murals has gone missing. It was last spotted running down Amity Road. If you see it, you probably want to turn around and walk in the other direction. There are reports of it turning people into paintings, but that could just be hearsay.

A few businesses in Netherville have banded together in an attempt to bring in more customers. For a limited time, you can get a free pottery painting session at the Clayground when you rent a bowling lane at Pinheads. Why not finish off the night with a meal at Taste Blind while you're at it?

A fenodyree displaced by the magical brownout has taken to hiding under the stairs at a gazeebo at the Common. Watch your ankles!

CHALLENGES:

Complete challenges and claim prizes! You can read more about how they work and what prizes are available here. Bonus challenges are an opportunity to earn an extra point per week but are harder or weirder.

This week’s challenge:

Does your character have a favorite and/or least favorite holiday (government recognized or otherwise!), and if yes, explain why!

Bonus challenge:

Write and share a solo of your character celebrating their favorite and/or least favorite holiday.

STARTERS:

Estella has a new...animal she's added to her collection. She needs your help naming it!

Can YOU hold off on stupidity for 12 hours? Doubt it, but lets try for Lil's sake.

Maggie's having some interesting ideas about cloud creatures. Thoughts?

Having television troubles? Be sure to not contact Eve about those. She can't help you.

Alistair is having some banana problems and wants to know who is responsible.

Alternatively, Rosemary is having bird problems. Know anything about getting them off of lawns?

When munchies are brought into the equation only one thing comes to mind; Hanger. Wyatt has a ton of it.

If you have ideas on where to find freaky books hit Jenny up. No word on what kinds of freaky books. Just use your imagination.

Metzli is also hungry even though they're not being shy about their meals. Lots of munchie issues going on.

Hey, hungry folks, did you know Magda is having a freezer clear out special? Might be something to check out, especially if you liked mystery meat Tuesdays.

Henri is being a little harsh concerning the library return policy but if you think harsher punishment for violators is a good idea maybe sign his petition?

Jonas wants to warn about a baby doll on the loose. That's just a joke, right? Right?

Anita's not going to let a little weather get in the way of her good time. You shouldn't either...if you can get in.

This just in: banana peels are menaces and Roy is more than happy to commend whoever figured that out.

Caleb begs everyone to stop breaking headstones.

Carin says don't touch those tents. They aren't for you.

Where can you get Sour patch kids? Hazel needs a source.

Nora thinks that her squonk is a pretty dog actually.

Gussie wants to know your dream roles, not weirdly obviously.

Owen says don't worry about knife sizes, they can't wield them right anyway.

Jade missed you. Yes, you right there. She missed you <3.

Vic wants you to stop hunting for Blue's Clues and clean up after your dogs. Think of the neighborhood!

Zoe knows you yearn for Shrek, come rent it at the Video Vault.

Emilio needs his dog back, Legally blonde style.

Rajini has a cat that is not looking to well and doesn't like her. Maybe come get it?

#wrw #wicked's rest weekly #chapter 1 #book 3

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itzpookiepooh · 9 days ago

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Hi, pooh, it's me once again ✌️, how ya doing (nvm, I think i pretty much know 😭). Once again, thanks for answering my request last time, really appreciate it. Since you allowed me to make another request, I'll get right to it 😁:

-i have a fantasy where they (all the LaDs boys) caught (hc) MC, reading a spicy book. It leads to them wanting to *ahem "understand" the "depths" of the book (of you get my drift 😉.

Hopefully that all made sense lol. Thanks so much for the time and effort you put in in making these fanfics and reactions for us.

I can try my absolute best!

Hot In Here

You were confused about what position the characters in the book were in. You had one knee on the bed and the other propped up while the book was in your hand. You were contorted like a rope in Girl Scouts. You heard the door creek open and Zayne stood there blinking at you.

Could this get anymore embarrassing?

“I’m not going to ask.” He bluntly said holding his hand up to stop you from explaining. You huff sitting down as he moves closer grabbing the book.

He skimmed the contents of the page. The gears in his head were turning as he tried to picture the position himself. He lifts his head then looks at you as he puts the bookmark in the page.

“I can demonstrate if you’d like.” He spoke softly making you gasp and softly hit his arm.

“Zayne!” You scold as he breathed a laugh through his nose.

You had no idea the dragon was reading over your shoulder. You both were reading in his library but you didn’t know his eyes wandered over to your book. He had his arm propped up on the arm of the couch as his eyes skimmed through the pages.

“I’m confused here. What position is this?” He asked breaking the silence. You jumped closing the book.

“How long have you been reading along?” You whisper harshly at him. He smirks laughing before answering, “Since chapter 12.” He points out.

“Oh my goodness…” You groan slumping down on the couch.

“I can show you what I think this paragraph looks like.” He purrs in your ear making your body heat up.

You were on the edge of your seat as the scene continued to get spicier. You had your elbows in your knees as you were engrossed in the book. Caleb came into the sitting room walking slower as he watched you get sucked into this book.

“Oh I’ve read this one.” He quips as he leans over the back of the chair you were in. He nods reading along.

“What? Really?” You were shocked he even had time to read it. He nods as he explains how he liked it.

“I also liked this part.” His voice low and seductive as he pointed to the paragraph. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“Wanted to show you just how much I liked it.” He whispered kissing below your ear. You felt like you were going to spontaneously combust.

Xavier was helping you play out a position in your book. He was quick to accept your request since he was also curious. It was a weird position you couldn’t lie and Xavier hasn’t complained once.

“Okay now put your leg here.” You instruct as he does so pressing into you. Xavier swallows hard as his hands are in either side of your head waiting for instructions.

“And then—what is—Xavier are you?” You give rapid fire questions. Xavier went beet red, he got hard.

“I couldn’t help it.” He says sheepishly trying to shy away from you. You laugh as he turns away from you.

“It’s fine.” You saw through laughter as you hold his warm face.

Rafayel read the book you were reading while you were at work. When he asked you about it you became embarrassed. This was a guilty pleasure of yours and you tried to hide the book from him. He can sniff stuff out like a hound dog.

“Tara lended it to me! She said it was good but I had no idea there were sex scenes in it.” You ramble trying to plead your case.

“Well I’m intrigued by how humans try and procreate.” He smirks mischievously. Your jaw drops, you can’t believe he said that.

“And in return…I’ll show you how lumerians mate.” He spoke seductively in your ear. You felt like you were going to overheat as you turned away from him.

I did this while running errands I gotta finish writing this bday post 🥲

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mapsthewanderer · 2 months ago

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Caffeine, chemistry and Caleb IV

Details: 1500 words. Pt. 4 of my barista AU. Non-MC!Reader as the law student. Expect heavy flirting, hot af barista Caleb, jealousy ever blooming (fuqin apple girl) but also… feelings? As always: banter with the newbie barista. Bless their soul. Did someone say threesome? (No still not 18+ series lol)

Parts: initial one shot, part 1, newbie pov, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

Tags: @gavin3469 @unstablemiss @i-messed-up-big-time @mipov101 @zukini-01

Latte Briefs & Legal breakdowns | Pt. 4

It’s a slow afternoon, golden light filtering through the café windows, indie guitar looping through the speakers. You’re perched on your usual stool at the bar, case briefs and books open in front of you, but not a single paragraph is sinking in.

Mostly because Caleb is leaning over the counter like he has a personal vendetta against your concentration.

“You ever thought about switching to the dark side?” he asks, holding up a small cup with what looks like the most terrifying espresso concoction you’ve seen yet.

You squint at it. “What is that?”

Caleb sets the tiny cup in front of you with a flourish. “Double ristretto, splash of oat milk, cinnamon, and a hint of something… exciting.”

You eye it suspiciously. “You mean a breakdown with notes of oat?”

He grins. “No. I mean adventure. Altitude…” His voice drops, as he leans in across the counter, eyes locked on yours.

“…Something worth defending in court.”

And then—he winks. Ugh.

But you don’t take the bait. Not this time. You’ve started expecting more from him now. Instead, you raise a slow, unimpressed brow. “So basically you, midair, with no supervision.”

“Exactly. Drink it, and who knows? You might join the dark side.”

With your chin resting in your hand, the words come out soft, curious. “Tempting. But what exactly do I get if I do?”

Caleb leans in further, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach do that stupid thing again. “Flight benefits. Vague emotional support. Excellent views.”

“Of what?” you ask, pretending to be unimpressed.

He smiles—slow, shameless. “Me.”

You snort, reaching for the cup. “If I survive this, I’m naming you in the lawsuit.”

Caleb tilts his head, that smirk practically built in at this point. “You wouldn’t win,” he says. “Jury would fall for me instantly.”

“Careful with the assumptions, defendant.”

“This defendant assumes you’d be asking him to take you flying by the end of trial.”

You open your mouth. Close it again. That one hits harder than it should. “Dangerous,” you mutter, sipping the drink.

“Delicious,” he corrects. And as he straightens, his fingers find the end of your braid, giving it a light tug—like he knows he’s just left a crater in your chest.

“Anyway… I’ve got to go deal with a supplier call,” he says, already backing toward the backroom. He pauses in the doorway, shoots you a quick grin.

“When I come back,” he adds, “I want your final verdict.”

And just like that—he’s gone.

You exhale slowly, like the air just remembered to move again. A beat later, the newbie appears next to your stool, silently placing a stack of freshly cleaned mugs on the bar.

They glance at you. Deadpan. “Are you hearing yourselves?”

You blink. “What?”

A hand waves through the space Caleb just vacated—like they’re clearing leftover smugness from the air. “You sound like a flirt-themed podcast,” they add, “no plot, all tension, and a two-drink minimum.”

Meanwhile you’re the picture of innocence—minus all the convincing. “We’re just talking.”

They give you a look. “You asked what you’d get if you joined the dark side.”

“So?”

In a tone fit for a top-secret intel drop, they whisper, “He offered you flight benefits.”

You sip the drink to avoid smiling.

They sigh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I kind of admire your commitment.”

Behind the cup, your smile softens. “Thanks.”

Their expression says it all—tired, resigned, just a little fond. “Still think you’re gonna crash and burn, though.”

You stare into your drink, then glance at the hallway Caleb disappeared into. Your smile sharpens.

“I’m not giving up,” you say quietly.

The newbie blinks. “I… yeah, I figured.”

“No,” you repeat. “I’m not giving up until he takes that damn necklace off.”

The look you get from the newbie is pure disbelief—like you just announced you’re filing a restraining order against yourself.

“I’m serious,” you go on. “I’m going to flirt my entire brain out. I’m going to show up here, looking unreasonably good, and pretend I am absolutely not tanking my grades until that necklace is gone.”

“You want him to—what, emotionally undress in front of you?”

“I want him to take it off,” you say. “Voluntarily. That’s the difference.”

The newbie just… stares.

“I need your help,” you add.

One gesture says it all—palms raised, full retreat. “Okay, no. I did not sign up to be your chaos consultant.”

“You’re already in too deep.”

They groan. “What do you want from me?”

“His work schedule.”

The silver flash of their tongue piercing rolls across their lip. They don’t blink—just squint slightly, like your plotting physically hurts to witness.

“I know you have it,” you say, lowering your voice like this is a covert operation. “You color-code it. I’ve seen it.”

They sigh through their teeth, bite at their tongue piercing, and glance around the empty café like it might offer backup.

“God, you’re terrifying,” they mutter.

“I’m determined,” you correct.

“Which is worse.”

Hands pressed together in a small, desperate prayer, you lean forward and glide your arms across the counter toward the newbie. “Come on. One law student. One emotionally conflicted barista. One irrational grudge against a necklace. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The newbie closes their eyes. “Famous last words.”

Still—they pull out their phone with a sigh and scroll a little.

“Fine. For purely academic chaos,” they mutter, pulling out their phone and scrolling with dramatic reluctance. “But I’m not sending you screenshots. I’m not leaving a digital footprint for this.”

You blink. “You think Caleb’s going to subpoena your camera roll?”

They nudge the phone toward your hands, like they want no part in whatever this is. “Do you want the intel or not?”

You lean in and they tilt the screen toward you—color-coded glory.

And you grin. Like a lunatic.

But you waste no time.

In one fluid motion, you whip out your phone and take three rapid photos like you’re defusing a bomb. The lighting’s bad, the angle’s worse—but it doesn’t matter. You got it.

“Okay, okay, put it away—go,” you hiss, just as the door to the back creaks open.

You shove your phone under your notebook, slam your cup back on the bar like nothing happened, and resume your most casual nothing-to-see-here posture.

Caleb strolls back in, hair a little messier, smirk already in place.

The verdict still very much undecided, you’re casually halfway through another sip—definitely not thinking about it—when he leans on the counter again and says:

“Alright. Let’s hear it. Final verdict?”

You glance up. “On the drink?”

“Sure. Let’s start there.”

The cup gets a thoughtful little tap from you. “Potentially illegal levels of good. I’ll be consulting with the ethics board.”

He grins. “So that’s not a no.”

Before you can respond, the newbie reappears behind the counter, holding a stack of clean mugs and radiating an energy best described as ‘please don’t look at me.’

Caleb spots them immediately. “Hey,” he says. “Tongue bar check.”

The newbie freezes. “Don’t.”

You blink. “You already noticed that?”

Caleb smirks. “Of course. They do it when they’re nervous. It’s adorable.”

You laugh. “I was just about to say that!”

You and Caleb turn in perfect sync toward the newbie, who’s flicking their piercing against their teeth—blissfully unaware.

They catch themselves mid-motion. “Oh. My. God.”

You smile sweetly. “Welcome to the flirting podcast. Congratulations, you’re officially part of the cast.”

Caleb lights up like you just handed him a microphone.

“We should start one.”

You blink.

Then immediately—“YES.”

Caleb’s already in motion, pretending to set an invisible mic on the counter. “Episode one: Latte Briefs and Legal Breakdown. I’ll host, you’ll interrupt me with objections, the newbie will sigh audibly in the background—perfect dynamic.”

The newbie groans. “I’m not getting dragged into this.”

Caleb points at them. “Too late. Recurring character. Possibly fan-favorite.”

You snort. “You’ve thought about this.”

He shrugs, completely unbothered. “I have excellent branding instincts.”

The newbie is walking away muttering as you glance toward them, “If I hear the words ‘theme song,’ I’m quitting.”

Caleb leans on the counter, smirking. “Don’t worry. You’ll have top billing.”

They glare at both of you. “You two are the worst.”

You raise your cup. “And yet, here you are. Still in the episode.”

Muttering something about unionizing and HR nonsense, the newbie vanishes toward the back, and you’re still smiling when you turn back to Caleb.

But he’s already looking at you.

Not with the usual smirk. Not with the “I’m-a-flirt-and-I-know-it” glint.

With something quieter.

Still amused. But… caught.

Like he just realized something and didn’t like how much he liked it.

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

He shakes his head, quick. “Nothing.”

But he’s still watching you. Not playing. Not trying. Just… watching.

You nudge your empty cup. “Was that my final verdict moment?”

Caleb exhales—laughs, just once. Soft. “You’re trouble.”

You grin. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

A hand runs through his hair, like he needs to reset himself. Like something’s off-balance now. Not bad. Just unexpected.

You let the silence stretch. Just enough.

And in that pause, you see it.

The flicker.

That brief, unguarded second where you both feel it—whatever this is.

And you know something he doesn’t know how to say.

You liked that.

You liked this.

And he wasn’t supposed to.

His hand lifts like he’s about to say something—then drops.

You slide your empty cup toward him with a smile that means everything.

And he catches it.

“I should’ve listened,” he murmurs, voice low, like it costs him something. “When you said I had to be careful around you.”

And then that smile—soft, crooked, almost aching. Like it knows better. Like it wants more anyway.

You nod.

Then, instead of speaking, you let your gaze flick—just once—to the necklace.

The chain.

The charm.

And now, the dog tag.

It catches the light just right, and for the first time, you see it clearly—there’s something etched into the metal.

Small. Scripted. Just a few words.

When… U… come back…

Your brain adds it straight to the growing Caleb case file.

Exhibit D: The phrase ‘When U come back’.

It’s a message from her.

Someone who thought he’d return.

You look up. Into his eyes.

Hold the stare.

Steady. Focused.

Case noted. Argument building.

And in that moment, you think:

You’re not coming back to her, Caleb. You’re on a recess break—with me.

And he knows what you’re thinking.

That’s enough for you.

For now.

——————————————————————————

Part 5

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: Yes. This is itttt. I’m finally content with the worldbuilding and the scene is set—now let’s go full classic novice writer mode and make everything deliciously messier. Prepare yourselves for the next chapter because ohhh… it’s burning and screaming to be launched into the void. I don’t know why, but waking up at 5am does things to my brain. Which is strange because I normally get up at like 6am, so it shouldn’t make a difference… but it does, lol. And if you want to be tagged, just let me know. Okey then, thank you for reading 🫶🏻

#i’m down so bad sorry for spamming just need to get this out of my notes and into the void #love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #you x caleb #fanfic caleb #fanfic love and deepspace #reader x caleb #non mc x caleb #barista caleb

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sergeantsporks · 2 years ago

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Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 35/38: And Watching

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34

An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.

Ao3

The keep loomed in front of Phoenix, cold and sterile. His stomach tied itself in knots, his heart flip-flopping around like he was 13 and coming back from his first failed mission all over.

I never thought I’d see this place again.

Somehow, it seemed… smaller. Phoenix couldn’t quite place why, but even though seeing the place still filled him with dread, it felt… lighter. Maybe it was knowing that if he did all the right things, if he fought back, he could leave this place behind forever. Not that there was a place for him to go after with the house destroyed, but at least the people who’d made the house worth going back to were still alive.

Hopefully.

The star swooped closer to the ground, and Phoenix tumbled off the back, rolling to absorb the impact, and springing to his feet. He took a deep breath, let it out, then started thinking of all the worst possible scenario, of what would happen if he couldn’t get away. The Isles? Destroyed. His body? Taken by Belos and used to hurt the people he cared about.

His arms shifted into mud and claws, and he twisted his fluid hand, snaking the claws to the ropes that held him tight.

Petro swooped back around, landing and dragging Phoenix closer with a wave of his staff. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“How’s possession?” Phoenix asked, desperate to keep his attention away from the slowly, but steadily fraying ropes. “Is it everything you hoped for when you went back to him? Does it hurt much?”

Petro’s jaw clenched, and he tossed Phoenix to the side.

Hit a nerve there.

The Collector’s star whirled out of control, crashing into the ground, and Phoenix winced, glad he’d rolled off when he did. Belos staggered off, twitching and lurching. The witch he was possessing must be fighting back—Belos wouldn’t be able to use their body much longer.

Phoenix slashed at the ropes quicker.

“I said,” the witch growled, “Get out!”

They whistled, a long, high, pure note, and Belos flew forward, repelled by a blast of magic that ruffled Phoenix’s hair and strained the ropes around him.

Belos snarled. “That’s fine. Only one vessel is big enough to do what I need.” He pulled up into a smaller, shriveled version of his monster form, his blue eyes latching on Petro. “Watch them.”

He disappeared into the castle. The witch watched for a moment, puzzled then gasped. “No.”

They glanced back, an agonized apology written on their face as their eyes met Phoenix’s.

“Go,” Phoenix urged them, “Don’t worry about me.”

They bolted, tearing through the front gates. Petro swore, starting to chase after them, but stopped, hovering between their quickly-disappearing form and Phoenix with a frustrated growl. Finally, he jabbed one finger at Phoenix. “Don’t. Move. I mean it.”

He leapt after the witch, chasing in bursts of magical gold that were always just a step behind the witch’s quick pace.

Phoenix finally tore through the ropes, leaping to his feet. He’d never catch up running, not with his broken ankle. Instead, he eyed the outside of the keep. He’d be heading for the throne room; Phoenix had spent enough time here that he could figure out where any room in the keep was from the outside, and he picked a likely window. He limped to Belos’ crashed star, tugging it out of the ground and kneeling on its glowing center.

Don’t think about it too hard.

Phoenix tugged the points of the star, and the whole thing shot upwards, flipping nearly perpendicular to the ground. Phoenix yelped, pressing his weight forward against the star to even it out. He slowly angled the star to face the window, then leaned forward, hurtling towards the window at top speed. He braced himself for impact, wincing as the window shattered and broken shards of glass slashed at his face and arms while he sailed through.

If I had a snail for every time today…

The witch from before faced off against Petro, whirling around and emitting sharp whistles that blasted Petro back every time he tried to attack. Bard magic. But Belos inched his rotting way towards the titan’s heart. Phoenix leapt off the star and onto Petro, tackling him.

“Stop Belos!” he yelled, “I’ve got your back!”

The world blurred gold just as the bard reached for their viola.

Petro warped outside, close to the top of the keep. Phoenix yelped, clinging to the staff while Petro kicked at him.

“You’re too much trouble,” Petro hissed, his foot narrowly missing Phoenix’s face. “We’re better off without you. Just—” Phoenix twisted to avoid a kick, still holding onto the staff with all his might. “Let—” another failed kick. “Go! Stop wiggling!” The staff slowly drifted towards the outer walls, dragged by Phoenix’s thrashing weight.

Before Petro could try to kick him again, before Phoenix could make another move, the keep exploded in green, what looked like a forest of mold and moss erupting from its center and covering the walls. Petro stopped kicking at Phoenix, staring slack-jawed at the ruin covered in growth.

Phoenix pushed off the staff while Petro was distracted, stretching his claws out and digging them into the keep walls as he fell. His momentum dragged him down in a hail of broken stone and popping, creaking joints and bones. He came to a halt a relatively safe distance from the ground, and leapt the rest of the way, landing in a roll and springing to his feet. He turned his face away from the keep, sick at the thought of what must have happened to the bard trapped inside.

Too late.

Petro circled above him like a vulture, waiting for an opening. Phoenix rolled his shoulders with a wince, shifting into a defensive position. “You’re really okay with this?!” he demanded, “He’s going to destroy everything! Are you so blindly devoted that you’ll let him wipe out everything you’ve known?”

“Even if I wanted to, what do you think I can do to stop it?” Petro snarled back. He gestured at the overtaken keep. Belos slowly crept outwards, his rot rooting itself in the titan’s very bones. “What do you think any of us could do against that?! Face it. You’ve lost. The bard lost, even without me slowing them down. Everyone but him has lost.” He wheeled around in the air, facing away from Phoenix and the keep. “Die now by my hand, or in a few moments by his, little bird,” he said gruffly, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He disappeared in a flash of gold. Phoenix stepped back, edging away from the growing infection. What could he do? He didn’t want to think Petro was right, but there were no more plans. Nothing left to try.

Belos wanted to get back to Caleb once he’d finished wiping out the Isles—but would Caleb even survive? Would Belos somehow be able to spare him?

Would the rest of the family survive even if Belos did manage to somehow keep Caleb alive in all of this?

The keep rumbled, and the infection shot outwards in throbbing, living spikes. Phoenix dove to the side, landing in a clear patch tucked in the shadow of a pillar. Before he could move any further, the rot had completely closed around. Bare patches dotted the ground, but nowhere Phoenix could easily jump to, especially not with his injured ankle—he was stranded in an ocean of waving green anemone.

The mass of green around the keep shifted and bulged, sprouting wings and arms and too many blue eyes to count. Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat, and he shrank back against the pillar to avoid the gaze of those icy blue eyes. His own arms shuddered and flipped back and forth between mud and flesh, as if his curse couldn’t decide whether to fight or to hide. Phoenix leaned against the pillar, his heart doing its best to spear itself on his ribcage.

This can’t be happening.

How do I stop it?

Blue flames arced across the sky, scorching the landscape, and despite himself, Phoenix let out a squeak. Belos had never been able to do that before.

A rush of wind ruffled his hair, and Eda landed next to him, closely followed by Luz, King, and the Collector.

“Phoenix?! What are you doing here?”

Phoenix flinched. “I… sort of got kidnapped? Sorry. I didn’t mean to leave the archive house.”

Collector tapped their fingers together anxiously. “Did you see Hunter? Is he alright? Did Belos get him, too?”

“Hunt—oh, you mean Petro. He’s… fine? But look, about him—”

“Is that Belos?!” Eda yelped.

Phoenix broke off his conversation with the Collector to answer her instead. “Yep. That’s him.”

Luz eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re not—”

Right. He could see where this looked bad. “I’m not the one who brought him here. I swear I wasn’t possessed, Luz. I promise. He… it was sort of a long line of possession, actually. But I wasn’t part of it.”

King waved a hand at the monstrosity that was Belos. “It doesn’t matter who it was! What do we do? There’s no way we can stop that!”

Phoenix’s heart sank. Of course he’d known he couldn’t do much—Petro was right. But he’d hoped… King was a titan. And Eda had whatever this feathery form was. But if they didn’t have any idea what to do either, maybe it was the end of the line.

Collector straightened up. “Yes, there is.” They started to glow, their feet lifting off the floor. “And I know how.”

A spark of hope flared in Phoenix’s chest as they shot through the sky like a star, flicking Belos’ attacks to the side like they were nothing. Last time, Collector had managed to turn Belos into a puddle—sure, he’d survived, but if they could do it again, it would at least buy enough time to figure out a better solution. And this time, they’d know to watch for him. No one would be taken by surprise again.

Collector seemed to collide with Belos in a blinding flash of light, but when the light faded, Phoenix saw that he’d actually stopped short of the monster’s face, floating serenely in the sky.

“No…” Luz murmured, “What is he doing?!”

“I get it now,” Collector said cheerfully, “You just need kindness and forgiveness, huh?”

Collector hugged Belos’ face. Belos seemed almost as surprised as the rest of them, blinking slowly at the child attached to his face.

Phoenix’s jaw dropped. “What did you three say to them?!” he asked frantically.

“Not this!” King protested, “Well—sort of, but Belos?!”

Luz winced. “I’d be so proud of him if it was anytime but now.”

Collector floated away from Belos, turning to face the rest of them. He waved. “Luz, look! We can all be buddies now!”

Belos opened his mouth, blue fire sparking.

“No!” Phoenix leapt forward, desperately dashing through clear patches despite the jolts of pain in his ankle, but he knew already in a sinking, sick feeling, that he wouldn’t make it in time.

“Collector!”

Luz whooshed overhead in a flash of purple and white, and Phoenix stopped to watch her, his breath stopping in his chest.

Belos fired.

Luz’s magic burst purple, dispelling the blue.

Phoenix hissed out a sigh of relief when he saw Luz and the Collector both floating in the aftermath. His legs wobbled, but he stayed up, watching. Something was wrong—he could feel it in an aching in his arms, a loss that hadn’t happened yet.

And Luz started to dissolve into light, green moss overtaking her body and changing her.

“No,” Phoenix whispered, “No, no, no.”

“Luz?” Collector asked in a small voice, “What’s happening?”

Luz slowly turned to look down at Eda and King, tears bubbling in her eyes. “Eda, King. Looks like we're gonna be split up again. I feel like I should be used to this feeling by now, but... I still don't know what to say.”

Every fiber of Phoenix’s body screamed do something, but there was nothing to do except watch. Watch as she disappeared, and her staff clattered to the ground. Watch as Collector grasped for her hand, catching a tiny ball of light. Watch as Eda and King stared in horror where Luz used to be. Collector slowly drifted down next to them. “Where’d she go?”

Phoenix stumbled his way back to the rest, wishing he could say something to Eda and King, but his voice died in his throat. What could he say?

It should have been me.

I should have stopped Belos earlier

If I’d gone for him instead of Petro

If I’d tried to push him off the star on the way, something

“Luz?” Collector said with a wobbly, nervous smile, “Luz? Yoo-hoo! You can come out now!”

Phoenix still couldn’t say anything, and the same was happening to Eda and King—they just stared blankly where Luz had disappeared.

Collector kept that same smile on their face. “Well, it's okay. She just broke, so I'll fix her.” He snapped his fingers, but the glow just dissipated. He snapped again. “What? Why isn't it working?” He kept snapping, each snap more frantic than the last. “The Archivists aren't here. They couldn't have taken her.”

Phoenix’s heart tore in his chest. He didn’t understand—of course he didn’t. He thought they were toys to be fixed.

Belos took aim again, and this time, King leapt in front of the Collector with a shout.

No, Phoenix thought dizzily, turning too slow, too slow.

But King’s shout formed a shield, glyphs glowing on its surface. He’d grown bigger, more… feral looking, his eyes and mouth glowing to match Belos’. He roared.

Collector wandered back, tugging at Eda. “Owl Lady, you know where Luz is, right?”

Eda gently pushed him to the side, her feathers lengthening, and her body hunching. “Back up, kid. I don’t think I can control myself right now.”

Collector turned slowly to Phoenix, his bottom lip trembling. “Phoenix?” he asked softly, “Is she really gone?”

“I…” Phoenix’s legs finally gave out on him, and he collapsed to his knees while Eda and King charged towards Belos, roaring. “I’m sorry.”

“But I don’t understand.” Collector’s voice wobbled, and he scooted closer to Phoenix. “I don’t understand, Belos broke you and you came back. Why can’t Luz come back?”

“Oh, Collector,” Phoenix sighed. He reached out, pausing. “…Permission to touch?”

Collector sniffed. “What’s that mean?”

“It means… it means I want to comfort you, but I don’t know if you want to be touched right now. I know I lied to you, and it hurt you, and… if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

Collector scrubbed at their face. “It’s okay.”

Phoenix gently took the Collector’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “I…”

“You came back,” Collector repeated, “Why can’t she?”

Phoenix sighed again. “When Belos hurt me… some very special people found me, and they… they helped me. They put me back together, and… they made sure I was safe. They took care of me. I was lucky,” he continued softly, “Very lucky. But… that was an exception. And… people don’t usually come back.”

Collector looked back up at Eda and King, whose attacks seemed to just bounce off of Belos. As enormous as Eda’s beast form was, she was still miniscule compared to Belos, and King was even smaller.

“It’s not doing anything,” Collector whispered in horror, “It’s just—it’s not beating him. They’re going to lose—can’t they see?”

Phoenix squeezed Collector’s hand. “It’s all they can do,” he said softly. That sinking, hopeless feeling was back. Even powered up, they couldn’t do anything. Phoenix was useless in this fight. And Luz…

Eda scooped King up just before one of Belos’ attacks could hit him, landing behind Phoenix and Collector. She roared her fury, but before she could attack again, Collector broke away from Phoenix and waved his arms in front of her.

“No, please stop! Run away!” Collector snapped his fingers. “Why isn't anything working?”

Phoenix limped up behind him. Mold sprouted on Collector’s hands.

No.

I won’t let this happen again!

“Collector—”

Collector’s eyes filled with tears. “I don't want anyone else to go away. I don't want anyone else to go missing!” He turned to Phoenix with a desperate look on his face. “I'm sorry for everything! I’m sorry!” The tears started to pour down, and he scrubbed at his face. “What is this stuff? Why won’t it stop?”

Phoenix reached for his shoulder, but Collector collapsed to his knees, hiccupping hysterically. “No! No, no, no, no! Get off of her!”

Phoenix looked down and saw mold growing on Eda’s feet. It crusted on his own boots as well, chewing at the leather. His arms bubbled in response, the mud burning and eating at his shoulders, as if trying to climb away from his infested feet.

Not now

But the curse didn’t care—it was stressed and hungry, and Phoenix was too tired and too scared to fight it off. Phoenix’s vision blurred, but he could feel the ground tremble, and he looked up just in time to see Belos raising one massive hand to crush them all.

No.

Phoenix blinked back the fuzziness, pushed back the exhaustion, and leapt forward, scooping Collector and King up in his arms and shielding them with his body. It wouldn’t help. He knew, deep down, that when that hand came down, it would crush them underneath him. But he had to do something, even knowing it was over. Phoenix braced himself.

The blow never came. Purple light pulsed around them, and Belos drew back with a screech.

Collector gasped, pushing around Phoenix. “It can’t be…?”

Through the clouds of dust, glyphs burned and shifted, swirling around a figure in the center. Phoenix squinted, trying to see past the light. King shrank a little, and his eyes lost their glowing. Finally, the fog cleared, and Luz grinned, her glyphs coming to a halt around her. “I’m back!”

She wasn’t the same Luz who’d disappeared. Her eyes had gone purplish black with glowing gold irises. Horns matching King’s sprouted from her head, claws lengthened her hands. But it was her. Phoenix’s heart thumped in his chest. This was impossible—she’d disappeared, she’d turned into light. Maybe Belos really had killed them all, and now they were reuniting with Luz. But Belos still loomed over them, and the Isles hadn’t disappeared, so…

The glyphs faded away and Luz tugged on her hat nervously. “I—wait. Uh. Couldn’t keep me away from… hang on.” She groaned. “I still can’t think of anything to say,” she complained.

King leapt out of Phoenix’s arms and to Eda, who shrank back down to her feathered, but smaller, form with a grin. “It’s Luz alright!”

Belos roared, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Before he could attack again, Luz waved her staff. A bubble of light, shining with glyphs on its surface, formed around the five of them. It slowly rose into the air, then slammed into the sky with a jerk, sending everyone inside tumbling around. Phoenix tucked his arms in close to his chest to avoid touching anyone with his volatile curse. Out of immediate danger, the mud subsided a bit, but the bone-weary exhaustion stayed.

The ball shuddered to a halt, and Luz grinned sheepishly. “Whoa! Overshot it a little. Still… getting used to these powers!”

Belos snarled up at them, and the head of the titan started to twist. On top, the archive house shook, sliding down.

“The archive house,” Eda gasped, “Everyone inside—”

Jason, Ghost, Darius… and whoever else Collector had caught. They’d be defenseless up there, unable to move and get away. If the fall didn’t kill them, Belos’ rot would.

“Leave it to me,” Collector said confidently. They held a hand out. “…Phoenix? Will you come with me?”

Phoenix nodded, taking his hand. A star formed beneath them, breaking out of the bubble.

“Hey—” Phoenix turned back to the bubble. “There was a bard inside the keep when everything… exploded.”

Eda started. “A bard?”

“Yeah—I don’t know what you’re planning, and I know you have to stop this fast, but if you have a second…”

Luz squeezed Eda’s hand. “We’ll find them,” she promised.

The star took off. Phoenix sat down with a whump, and a glowing strand of blue energy wrapped around his waist. Collector gave him a crooked, apologetic smile. “I know you always wished they came with seatbelts.”

Phoenix gestured to Collector’s hands. The mold had spread up their wrists. “Hey…”

They hid their hands in their sleeves. “I can do this. We can do this.”

Phoenix met their gaze. They were so small—but determination flashed in those orange eyes. Phoenix still didn’t know what Luz had said to him, but whatever it was, it was working. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The tip of the titan’s horn snapped, and the archive house plummeted. Collector stood on the star, tendrils of purple light snatching the points of the house and holding it steady. Below them, Phoenix could see Luz’s friends and a woman he didn’t recognize snatching puppets off the shelves and moving them safely to the floor.

The seatbelt released, and with a wrinkle of Collector’s nose, Phoenix floated off the star and drifted down to the Archives below, landing so lightly on his feet that even his broken ankle didn’t feel the impact

“Phoenix?!” Hunter yelped, “Is that the Collector?”

“Yes, it’s the Collector, hi, we’re here to help.” Phoenix took a deep breath, holding his hands up. “Please don’t freak out, I promise I’m not possessed, it’s just very simi—”

A puppet tumbled down off the shelves, jarred by the shaking, and Phoenix reached out instinctively, his arms lengthening and safely snatching them out of the air.

The kids stared at him, mouths open, and Phoenix held his hands up again. “Not possessed! Promise!”

Another puppet fell, and the woman Phoenix didn’t recognize activated an ice glyph, creating a slide for them to roll down. “Hi, Phoenix, I’m Camila. Jason told us a lot about you; it’s so nice to finally meet you. Do you mind giving us a hand?”

Phoenix nodded, slinging one hand up to a higher shelf and pulling himself to the top. He gently untangled the puppet there from the pegs holding them in place and lowered them down to Camila.

“What’s going on out there?” the purple-haired girl (Amity? Phoenix was pretty sure that was her name) asked anxiously, “Is that Belos out there? Is Luz okay? Did you see her?”

“Luz is…” Phoenix searched for the right word. “…alive?”

Amity’s face paled.

“She’s fine!” he added quickly, “Luz is fine, it’s just—a lot’s happened. Honestly, I’m still figuring it out myself. Belos… I don’t know, she dissolved into light, but now she’s back, and I think she’s turned into a titan?”

“She what?!” everyone yelped in unison.

Phoenix started to lower himself down to the next niche. “Well—"

A roaring scream emanated from the titan’s chest, grating on Phoenix’s ears. His fingers released the ledge of their own volition, his curse shrinking back into normal flesh. He yelped, snatching uselessly at the ledges.

Hunter appeared in a flash of gold, grabbing his arm and teleporting safely back down to the ground. “Got you.”

“Thanks.” Phoenix limped to the balcony. The glowing ball, the bursts of magic—all signs of Luz had disappeared entirely. “Where…?”

The isles rumbled, and the archive house started to slip again, the green mold at the center of the Isles lashing out desperately.

“She’s still fighting!” Willow cheered.

A flash of purple magic sparked at the heart, and the monster raging at its center stopped, turning grey and slowly crumbling. The head slowly approached—or, rather, the archive house gently floated down to meet it. Collector crashed to the ground with a sigh, and Phoenix fell next to him. “Is it… over?” he whispered.

Collector held up their hands. The moss covering their arms disappeared just like Belos, faded into the wind. “I think so.”

The kids approached, and Collector flinched holding his arms over his head. Phoenix looked up at them, worried. They had every right to be angry. But before he could say anything, Amity held her hand out to Collector, helping them up. Hunter pulled Phoenix to his feet.

“What happened to your leg?”

“Long story,” Phoenix said wearily, “Hey—did you find Jason when you were grabbing puppets? And Ghost?”

“What? We sent Jason back home—did you miss him? And… who’s Ghost?”

“Your new baby sibling.”

“My what?!”

“Yeah, you’re not the youngest anymore.” Phoenix pushed himself onto his own two feet. “Jason and Ghost got caught—we have to find th—”

He swayed, dizzy, and nearly fell on top of Hunter. Willow grabbed his other arm to balance out his weight. “We’ll find them,” she said firmly.

“You look awful,” Amity agreed, “You need to sit down—how long have you been walking on that leg like that?”

“But—” Phoenix protested.

“Hey.” Camila smiled at him, a warm, comforting smile that almost made all his worries about Jason melt away in an instant. “We care about Jason, too. We’ll find him.” She gave the other kids the stink eye. “Don’t think the rest of you are off the hook. You all need rest, too. You’ve had a long couple of days, and just because your legs aren’t broken doesn’t mean you’re in top shape.”

“I know where all the unpuppets can meet up!” Collector declared, “You can wait for mini you there, Phoenix!”

“But—”

Before Phoenix could finish his sentence, they snapped their fingers, and the ruined storage room disappeared, replaced by a cracked, but mostly intact foyer. Phoenix slumped against a pillar, sliding to the ground and closing his eyes. They were right. He knew that. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay up on his injured leg, and the curse howled hungrily inside of him. He needed to conserve strength until he could get something to eat, or take an extended nap. Running around the archive house looking for Jason and Ghost would probably just result in his curse going wild and creating a new problem for everyone to deal with.

That didn’t mean he liked it. His chest ached, wishing desperately that they’d find Jason and Ghost soon, or that Darius would be freed quickly. Phoenix ran over a thousand apologies in his mind to distract from the ache in his chest, none of them as thorough and perfect as Darius deserved.

The archive house slowly filled with dull murmurs. When Phoenix opened his eyes, he saw a few newly-freed witches skirting around him with nervous glances. His gaze slowly slid down to the myriad of cuts and bruises mottling his skin. He could feel more on his back rubbing rawly against the pillar, mementos of his latest trip out the archive house window. He probably did look like someone to steer clear of.

Still, even the witches dressed in healers’ blue avoided him.

The conversation bubbled up as more and more freed citizens reunited with family members and friends. All around Phoenix, tearful shouts of joy rose up, making the ache in his chest worse. And then, two new voices rose above the rest, calling familiar names.

“Clara? Ram?”

Phoenix opened his eyes. Two witches pushed through the crowd, scanning every face anxiously.

“Excuse me,” one begged another witch, “Have you seen two kids? One about this high, she’s eight, and another shorter, about five? Our children, we’re looking for them. Please—”

Phoenix creaked to his feet, limping towards them. “Hey—Clara and Ram—I know where they are.”

One of the witches grabbed his arm. “You saw them?” he asked, “Are they safe? Where are they?”

“Hexside.” Even as he said it, Phoenix started to doubt himself. Had they made it? If their parents hadn’t found them here, then they must have escaped the Collector, but had they made it to Hexside? And what about Belos? Had anyone survived his onslaught outside of the archive house?

“Hexside? Why would they be there?”

Phoenix shook himself. They were fine. They’d made it. “They weren’t with the Collector—some family of mine took care of them. They were taken to Hexside for safety.”

The witch released his arm. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

His partner inclined their head in a gracious nod. “We’ll go after them. Hey—are you alright?”

Phoenix realized he was swaying on his feet, and he blinked. “Oh. I’m… I’ll be alright. I just need to sit down.”

“Is there anything we can do for you?”

The first witch shifted anxiously, glancing at the door, and Phoenix realized that these witches couldn’t be much older than he was. They’d been separated from their family, just like him. Even though the panicky witch’s sigil matched the healing coven, he couldn’t even think of asking him to stay, despite the aches and pains tearing at him. They needed to leave. He shook his head.

“Go find Clara and Ram. Or—well—if you see anyone who looks like me at Hexside, could you tell them I’m alright, and I’ll be there soon?”

The anxious witch nodded, relief flitting across his face. “And… who should we say sent the message?”

“Phoenix.”

“Thank you, Phoenix,” the calmer witch said, “Thank you for looking out for them.”

The two melted back into the crowd, and Phoenix found a new place to sit—this time, a proper bench. Odalia waltzed by, sulking in a corner. A low growl rumbled in Phoenix’s throat, but he leaned back against the wall again with a sigh. She wasn’t worth it. The Hexside kids filed in, running to adults Phoenix assumed were their parents. Across the room, he saw Darius surprise Hunter, and his heart throbbed in his throat, choking him. He closed his eyes again, as if putting the two out of sight would make him forget they were there.

What do I say to him?

“You look shorter than I remember.”

Phoenix’s eyes shot open. There he was, with Hunter next to him looking oh-so-pleased with himself. Flesh and blood, not a puppet, but Darius, really Darius, standing in front of him with a small, sad, nervous smile. Any plans for what he could say, any possible responses he’d thought of fled his mind in an instant.

“You look older than I remember,” he shot back, lurching to his feet, “I… Darius, I’m sorry.” The words flowed out in a torrent, one after the next in an unstoppable river. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I’m sorry I just disappeared with no warning. I’m—”

Darius held one hand up. “I heard already.”

Phoenix stopped midsentence. “What?”

“Near Eda’s cage. When I was a puppet. I remember it all. I heard your apology, and… I do want the explanation you promised. But for now, there’s no need to apologize again. I know. I’m just… happy you’re alive.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Darius’ hands opened and closed, like he wasn’t sure whether to give Phoenix a hug, or prepare for a combat lesson.

“So… Hunter tells me it’s Phoenix now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I changed my name. Felt right.” Phoenix fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other, completely forgetting about his injured ankle and almost immediately crumpling like a used napkin.

Darius jumped forward to catch his arms. “You look awful,” he said thickly, tears springing to his eyes, “What happened to you? Where have you been?”

Phoenix’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, his own eyes spilling over. “It’s—it’ll be a long explanation,” he replied hoarsely, “There’s been so much going on—and I’ve missed you. Every second, I wished I could see you again. Ask what you thought. Help you through it all. But look at you!” The tears had become an unstoppable rain, and Phoenix was surprised his arms hadn’t turned to mud from the proud sadness. “You got through it! You fought back against Belos! You made new allies! And you didn’t need me for any of it—you did all that on your own. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud.”

“I did need you,” Darius protested, “I did it all for you. To make sure no one else I cared about disappeared.”

Phoenix heard a snuffle, and he glanced over to see Hunter suspiciously misty-eyed, and looking up at the ceiling to hide it.

“Jason would love this,” Hunter mumbled when he noticed Phoenix and Darius looking, “He’d probably have some book reference about it and everything. Where is he?”

A slow horror crept over Phoenix. “Didn’t—didn’t you find him? Where is he? And Ghost?”

Hunter’s posture stiffened. “What are you talking about? He wasn’t with the other puppets—we thought the Collector found him before we did and sent him here already! He didn’t find you?!”

Phoenix shook his head. “I haven’t seen him!”

“Who’s Jason?” Darius interjected.

“He’s—he’s Hunter and I’s brother, one of the people who took me in after Belos… but if I haven’t seen him, and you haven’t seen him…”

“Maybe he went home,” Hunter suggested, “If he didn’t know you were here, he might have taken Ghost and gone back to meet up with the rest of the family.”

“There is no home,” Phoenix said bleakly, “It’s destroyed now.” He passed a hand over his face. “He could have gone to Hexside, I suppose. He knew that’s where everyone was supposed to meet up.”

“I could get us there,” Hunter offered, “Flap and I—we can fly you to Hexside to check.”

Phoenix glanced back at Darius, words failing in his mouth. “I…”

Darius gave him a pained smile. “Go. Find your brother. Make sure he’s safe. I’ve waited thirty years, I can wait a bit longer.”

“Thank you,” Phoenix whispered, “And—I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything soon, I promise.”

“Go. Oh—and Phoenix? If you and your family don’t have a place to stay, my home is open. Hunter knows where it is, he’s fond of sending ravens at untitanly hours of the night.” He gave Hunter a smile that took the bite out of the words.

“Uh—Are you sure about that?” Hunter asked nervously, “There’s… a lot of them.”

“Of course I am. That includes you, Hunter. You’re welcome any time.”

Hunter looked like he wanted to protest further—maybe by giving a more exact estimate of exactly how many “a lot” was, but he just shrugged and summoned his staff. “We’ll be back soon,” he promised Darius, and crinkled his nose at Phoenix. “I’ll fly low and slow, don’t worry.”

“You’re still afraid of heights?” Darius asked.

“With the number of windows I’ve been thrown through recently?” Phoenix joked, sitting next to Hunter, “I better be.”

Hunter took off, and Darius shrank down behind them until he was gone from sight entirely. Hunter’s definition of “low and slow” was a little higher and faster than Phoenix was entirely comfortable with, but it would get them to Hexside quickly, so he just looked up at the sky instead of at the rushing ground below them.

“Am I doing the right thing?” he asked, “Leaving him again, I mean. I’m worried about Jason, but I don’t want to hurt him again. And just ditching him without much explanation all over…”

Hunter shrugged. “He’s fine with it—or at least it’s not a dealbreaker for him. I think he needs some space to figure out how he feels, and he wants you to have that space, too.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s a two-way street,” Hunter replied quietly, “Yeah, you’re leaving. But he didn’t offer to come with you, either.”

“Oh.” Phoenix’s chest felt hollow inside. He’d spent so long worrying about what he’d say to Darius, and how to explain it all, that he’d never thought about what they would do after. They couldn’t just go back to the way things had been—Darius had progressed far past the point of needing a mentor, and Phoenix was too much younger than him to fill that role now anyway. So what next?

He and Hunter sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, just passing over the Isles. One of the titan’s hands was outstretched to the sky now—Phoenix winced at the thought of anyone who had lived there previously. There was about to be a lot of rebuilding.

“So,” Hunter said finally, breaking the silence, “Your arms. It’s… like his curse?”

Phoenix looked down at his hands, normal for now, but with no telling how long that would last. “Yeah.”

Hunter nodded, taking a deep breath. “Does it… hurt much?”

Phoenix nodded. “Kind of burns, like it’s eating my skin. And when I use it…” he rubbed his aching elbows.

“Your joints and bones feel like they’re stretched out?” Hunter finished quietly, “Worn? Achy?”

“Yeah,” Phoenix said again, “I… guess you’d know.”

Hunter nodded, and another silence fell between the two of them, but this one lasted only a few moments before Hunter burst out, “It wasn’t your fault. That it happened to you.” He looked back at Phoenix with strangely desperate eyes, “You know that, right? You know it isn’t your fault, and you don’t deserve it, right? It’s his fault. Not yours.”

Tears crowded into Phoenix’s eyes, and a weight he didn’t know was crushing him fell off his shoulders, like he’d been absolved of some sin with just those simple words. It’s his fault. Not yours. You didn’t deserve it. Hunter didn’t know the full story—how he’d kept the infection secret, and lied about how he was until it was too much—but still, his pardon rang true. Phoenix looked down at his hands again, losing the fight against the tears.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I know. And—you too. It wasn’t your fault, either. Any of it. You didn’t deserve it any more than I did. Probably even less.”

“It wasn’t our fault,” Hunter echoed softly.

Hexside slowly came into view, still standing and, to Phoenix’s relief, crawling with life. Hunter swooped down, landing without a single bump. He clutched his staff tightly, and Phoenix noted that Flapjack didn’t spring to life. Gashes ran through the palisman’s chest, tearing through the red wood.

“Is… Flapjack okay?”

“Um.” Hunter looked at the ground. “He… hasn’t woken up since Belos tried to kill him. I was hoping—I was hoping, you know, he was Caleb’s palisman first. Maybe he could help fix Flapjack.”

“Let’s find him, then,” Phoenix said briskly.

“Phoenix! Hunter!” Viney waved from a window, jumping out and letting Puddles catch her on her way down. “Hey! Phoenix! How do you look even worse than the last time I saw you? Geeze. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Before Phoenix could protest, Puddles scooped him up in her beak, bounding through the halls and depositing him with a sudden halt onto a cot. The healing homeroom—he recognized it from his last time here. Hushed murmurs that sounded like an argument emanated from behind a curtain sectioning off a corner of the room.

“Gentle, Puddles! Gentle!” Viney climbed off her griffin’s back. “Sorry. Let’s take a look at that leg, shall we? Nice splint, though, very practical, if unorthodox.”

“Luz.”

“That’d do it. Nice to see she was paying attention in healing class.” Viney cut the boot off, ‘tsk’ing over his foot. “I’ll get the plaster. And some crutches for you—hey, you’re not putting weight on that for at least a two weeks, you hear me? And that’s if you have regular healing sessions.”

“I’ll try.”

Viney bustled off.

“I’m not doing it,” a different, but familiar voice snapped. The curtain in the corner flew open, and Dagger rolled out in a wheelchair, chased by an exasperated healing student holding a cast saw, “Go away.”

“You have to trust me!” the student wheedled, “I promise I’ll be gentle. Hey—you can’t do it on your own!”

“Watch me.”

Phoenix sighed. “Dagger, you’re not a healer. He is. Let him help.”

Dagger came to an abrupt halt. “Oh,” he said poisonously, “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Phoenix agreed, “Where is everyone?”

“Off using their fully functional legs, I assume.” Dagger crossed his arms. “You just had to copy me, huh? Getting me crushed in a cave wasn’t enough, now you had to go and screw up your leg, too? Not enough broken bones in the family for you?”

Phoenix sputtered. He hadn’t been prepared for quite this much aggression, not even from Dagger. “I—whoa, hey. I didn’t ask to get my ankle broken!”

“And I didn’t ask for you to forget me in a cave and never come back for me, yet here we are.” Dagger started to roll away. “I hope you didn’t expect the red carpet welcome from me.”

“That’s not fair,” Phoenix protested, “I didn’t forget you! I sent someone to get you!”

Dagger swiveled the chair around in a single, sharp movement. “You sent a stranger, someone I’d never met before, someone who could have been a threat, to find me when I was totally helpless. And you think I should be grateful?”

“I trusted Viney.”

“Well, I had no reason to.” Dagger turned his chair back towards the door, wheeling out. “Whatever. Welcome back, Phoenix. If you want someone who’s happy to see you, go find Dad.”

The healing student chased after him. “W-wait, I still have to—”

The door closed behind them. Viney set down her supplies with a whump. “Well. I can see you’re having a fun family reunion. He was pretty freaked out when I got to him. Don’t think he’s very trusting. But, hey, injuries can bring out the worst in people, and mind injuries are even worse. Don’t take it too personally. He called me some very unflattering things before. I woulda socked him if he wasn’t injured.” She moved quickly and efficiently, her magic moving his leg so imperceptibly softly that he didn’t feel a thing. “Aaaaaand last touch!” She slapped a healing patch on the cast, and Phoenix’s leg went numb. “To speed up the healing. I want you to see someone twice a week until it’s healed all the way.” She drew another circle in the air, sticking her hands through the loop until they glowed, then moving her glowing hands over his cuts and bruises. The relief was almost instantaneous, the little aches and tears disappearing in a heartbeat.

“What happened up there? We saw the Archive House fall from the sky. And, of course, there was the mold, and the titan moving… but that’s all okay now?”

“It was Belos. He came back, he tried to destroy us. But… we’re still here.”

“And he’s not? Are we sure this time?”

Phoenix opened his mouth to respond, then shut it. “I… don’t actually know.”

“He’s gone this time,” Hunter answered from the door, “Amity sent me a message—Luz ripped him out of the titan’s heart, and he collapsed in the boiling rain.”

“Nothing survives the boiling rain!” Viney remarked cheerfully.

Hunter frowned, sitting down in an open chair. “Selkidomus do. And Titans. And a lot of flora. Oh, and me, so I guess that’s a grimwalker thing. And—”

Caleb appeared in the doorway, bruised and battered, but alive. “Phoenix!” He rushed in, his hands fluttering anxiously over Phoenix’s booted ankle. “What happened to your leg? Are you okay? Don’t ever do that again!”

Phoenix winced. “Sorry. Um. Have you seen Jason and Ghost?”

The color drained from Caleb’s face. “The Collector didn’t catch them?”

“He did! But he’s been freeing people and—they haven’t made it back here?”

Caleb shook his head. “I haven’t seen them—I was hoping you had. They’re not the only ones missing, either. Venari, Silver, and A.T. didn’t make it to Hexside.”

“We had to split up to avoid the spies,” Viney piped up, “Most of the groups made it, but a few stragglers didn’t.”

“And Evelyn and I got trapped in the rubble of the house,” Caleb continued, “We got here late. Just before the…” He shuddered. “Anyway. Evelyn went out looking for them after the mold cleared. I went, too, but I checked the house—what’s left of it—and Bonesborough while she searched the woods, so she hasn’t come back yet.”

“Well… I’m sure Jason and Ghost are just taking a while because they were walking?” Hunter suggested, “I can fly out and look for them. Um. But first, I was wondering…” he offered Flapjack to Caleb. Deep cracks ran up the palisman’s chest and wings, marring the red wood. “Do you… know how to fix him? He’s working as a staff, but he won’t come back to life.” His voice cracked miserably. “I just want him to wake up again.”

Caleb delicately took Flapjack’s still body from Hunter. “I can try. It’s strange, though. Usually, when a palisman is injured, they just need to be near their witch, and the wound should heal up on its own.”

“Maybe it’s because Flapjack is yours and not mine,” Hunter said dully, “Maybe he needs you to heal.”

Caleb shook his head vehemently. “Hunter, Flapjack chose you. He’s as much your palisman as he ever was mine. I’m sure it has more to do with how he got injured.” Caleb glanced at Phoenix. “Injuries from Belos… don’t always behave the same way as normal injuries.”

“So… what do we do?”

Caleb’s foot tapped a thoughtful beat against the ground. “I might have an idea, but for it to work, I’m going to need some tools, and some palistrom wood. Viney, does Hexside have anywhere that served as a carving center?”

“Sure, but it’s been vacant for years because of the shortage. The only palistrom wood you’ll find there is shavings and sawdust.”

“That works fine. Show us, please?”

Viney shrugged, and led the way. Phoenix hopped up on the crutches, swinging slowly after the three of them. He wanted to go out and look for Jason (and the others), but Hunter had been waiting for this. It was only fair, especially given how Flapjack had gotten injured.

Viney pushed open a creaky wooden door, carved with a hammer and chisel in the center. Dust covered every surface in the lightless room, choking the air.

Hunter ran a finger through the dust, leaving a thick line. “What are we looking for?”

“Sawdust. Shavings.” Caleb opened a cabinet. “Wood glue, if there’s any here that’s still good.”

Phoenix hobbled from table to table, looking for any hint of blue in all the grey dust. Viney threw open giant curtains, flooding the workshop with light. “Whoa.” She scratched under the chin of her own palisman. “I can’t even imagine this many people carving their own palisman instead of adopting.”

“We used to have quite the program.” Principal Bump hobbled in. “A Clawthorne used to run a workshop, teaching students the basics if they were interested in carving their own palisman.”

A proud grin twitched across Caleb’s face. “Yeah? A Clawthorne?”

Viney’s face lit up. “Principal Bump! You’re back! Did you see your statue?”

A single, proud tear rolled down his face. “I did. I was touched to see the effort my students put into creating it. But what are you all doing in the carving classroom? Belos may be gone, but it’s a little early to start planning the revival of a near-extinct tree species.”

“Palisman repair,” Caleb said, “Do you have any wood shavings, or sawdust?”

Bump shuffled to a wall, pushing a panel and popping out a secret drawer. He removed a small, red box, this one with a bird carved into it. “When it became apparent that the trees were disappearing at a rapid rate, Dell and I would sweep up the shaving and save them after classes. I didn’t know what they could possibly be used for, but it seemed like a crime for even the shavings of such a precious resource to be wasted.” He proffered the box. “I don’t know why you need them, but if they will help you restore your palisman, then they are yours.”

Caleb took the box, opening it slowly, as if opening it too quickly might make it disappear. Blue shavings and blue dust lined the bottom.

“It’s so little,” Hunter whispered. He held a bottle of wood glue so tightly Phoenix thought it might burst in his grip, “There’s barely anything.”

“It’s enough,” Caleb replied. He rescued the wood glue from Hunter’s grasp, squeezing some into a small bowl and mixing in shavings and sawdust until it turned a grainy blue. He filled in the cracks with the paste, and handed Flapjack back to Hunter. “Here. Wait for the glue to dry before you try to use the staff.”

“Will it work?”

“I can’t say for sure. But it’s the best I can do. Talk to him. Dormant palisman can hear you—help him remember who he is.”

Phoenix swung out of the room, hobbling down what seemed like infinite stairs on his way out. Mole sat in a patch of vegetables outside, but when he saw Phoenix, he abandoned his weeding to chase after.

“I don’t know where Jason is. I’m going to look for him. Want to come?”

Mole nodded, slowing his pace to keep step with Phoenix. The crutches clacked and echoed on the empty streets of Bonesborough, but the sounds faded as the cobblestones turned to dirt paths. Mole darted to the side in the forest, running to check further away from Phoenix in the more difficult terrain but always coming back to him.

Phoenix’s ears twitched, picking up a slight rustle, and he clumsily whirled to face it, nearly falling over. “Who’s there?” he called, “Jason? That you?”

Mole loped back to his side, squinting suspiciously at the red underbrush.

Venari stumbled out, cradling one arm to their chest and limping. A gash ran up the side of their leg, bleeding sluggishly, and their eyes stared right through Phoenix, wild and angry.

Mole jumped forward to take their uninjured arm, wrapping one arm around their back and making gentle shushing noises. Phoenix hopped forward towards them, horror creeping over him.

“Venari—”

They slumped against Mole, heavy breathing turning into a weary sigh. Mole half-dragged them up the path, and Phoenix dropped his crutches to help. He limped and dragged his casted foot behind him, but between the two of them, they managed to get the semi-conscious Venari back to Hexside. Cherry met them at the door, scooping Venari up and carrying him inside. Meleager, Horus, and Hamlet all tripped over his heels like a pack of dogs, following him to the healing homeroom. Mole darted off, and moments later, Caleb came running down the hallway, disappearing into the healing room after everyone. Phoenix followed, earning a dirty look from Viney who stomped off and returned moments later with another set of crutches that she passive-aggressively shoved into his chest.

Meleager, Horus, and Hamlet crowded around the student healer working with Venari, watching him like a hawk.

“What happened?” Horus demanded, “Who did this?”

Phoenix could see the answer on Venari’s face before they even opened their mouth, and his heart sank down to his stomach.

“Belos,” Venari spat, “Or—Petro? Belos is puppeteering him again.” His eyes slid around the room, finally locking on Caleb. “He has everyone—A.T., Silver, Jason, Ghost—and Mom.”

Caleb sagged like a ton of boulders had been dropped on him, gripping the back of a chair for support. A scream of rage tore through the air, and Mole buried his face in his arm, letting out another, more muffled scream. Before Phoenix could move to comfort him, he ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

A.T., Silver, Jason, Ghost… besides Hunter, the youngest of the family. Phoenix’s stomach churned. He’d targeted them deliberately. He must have taken Jason and Ghost from the archive house before the Collector could free them—had it been Petro on his own, after he’d left Phoenix, or had Belos taken them both back there? Either way, he should have stopped Petro there. He should have yanked him out of the air, or thrown a rock at his head, or something. He never should have let him get away. Of course. Hunter had said it; Grimwalkers could survive in the rain. Belos must have survived by possessing Petro again after Luz had assumed he was dead.

“How’d you escape?” Caleb whispered, “How did you get away?”

Phoenix knew the answer. And he could see that Caleb did, too, but wasn’t letting himself think it.

“I didn’t,” Venari grated out, “He let me go. He wanted me to bring you a message.” Phoenix could see the rage bubbling in their eyes, helpless fury at the role he’d been forced to play. “He said to meet him back at the house tomorrow morning. You especially, and all of us as well, to make sure we’re not up to any tricks. And he said if we don’t…”

Caleb let out a shuddering breath. “I know, Venari, don’t say it—”

“If we don’t, he’ll kill them one by one until we're there.”

#me: why is this chapter taking so long to write even tho I'm writing a lot every day?#the chapter: [sixteen pages and close to nine thousand words]#toh #the owl house #gilded family au #hunter wittebane #caleb wittebane #darius deamonne #the collector #emperor belos #golden guard oc #toh fanfiction #my writing #ask to tag

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