#it’s like there’s a group and then Caleb and nott are on the outside even though they haven’t done anything wrong yet

[railroad-migraine]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a Mighty Nein version of the hiding in the alley together Bell's hells scenario you wrote? I really loved your Bell's hells one! Thanks!

Thank you darling! I love that post so much too 🥰

Bell's Hells version 💙

Tight Squeeze (hiding in an alley together)

Beau 💜

You're standing on her toes, and her elbow is poking harshly into your side, and you both just don't know where to look. "Sorry, I'll scoot over a little bit-" "No, wait, hang on a sec-" Awkward scrambling ensues. You whisper and try to convince her to put up with the closeness until you guys are safe, but she. Just. Won't. Listen. Eventually, her squirming has you both off centre and reaching for each other for balance, and she murmurs a quiet: "... oh."

Beau isn't a romantic, never has been, and she's never really gazed into someone's eyes as purposefully as she is right now. You're fucking gorgeous. How has she never stopped to just look at you before? Have you always been so... You blink in confusion as she seems to soften, ever so slightly, calming down enough to breathe in sync with you.

You feel a palm drag itself up your arm, up, up, up until she finally cradles your jaw. And you both stand there, unmoving, for who knows how long, before she eventually tears herself away from you and the alley with a grumble. You take a moment to recover from the intense look in her eye, running after Beau only when she calls your name to hurry up.

-

Caleb 💜

His mouth is puckered in a tight frown as he looks anywhere but your face. It's an incredibly tight squeeze where you've found yourselves, so narrow that you're effectively pinning the wizard to the wall behind him. Your palms rest flat at either side of his neck and his hands have curled into little fists between your chests. Your heartbeat is thundering in your ears - or maybe it's Caleb's - you're not quite sure whose it is when you're this close together.

It's incredibly quiet. Awkward, even. So you say something. Anything. A stupid comment on how this is like a cheesy scene in one of the awful smutty books that's been passed around the group, and he can't help but huff a laugh and try to hold back an amused smile. His shoulders relax and he rests his head against the wall to finally get a better look at you, and something makes you lean your head towards him, following his lead. His lips part slightly as you move closer and-

Nott/Veth calling both your names from outside the alley jerks your faces apart, and Caleb very hurriedly inches away from you. "We should, ah..." He reluctantly shuffles towards the road, adjusts unkempt hair and smooths down the front of his coat, fingers twisting the buttons shyly. "W-we should go join the others, ja?" His heart sings at the simple touch of you linking pinkies with him. It's a quiet message he doesn't need to worry about deciphering.

-

Fjord 💜

"Beggin' your pardon." You can't help but snort. Even in times of peril, in situations where you're taking cover from the intense fighting outside of alleyways, Fjord still manages to treat you well and act the perfect gentleman. He shushes you, smiling himself, and it briefly feels like you're the only two people in the world - except for those in the battle mere feet away from your hiding spot.

His eyes soften as you share a secret grin with him, but not in the way you'd like. He clears his throat, peeks out of the gap of the alley."Look, I know this isn't an ideal situation but..." You say his name sweetly, urge him to look up from the ground to meet your gaze, and you see colour quickly spread across his neck in embarrassment. He swallows thickly and looks away, and breathes out the quietest shuddering sigh.

A hesitant hand reaches out for yours, and you grip it tight before he can regret taking the leap. The rest of the Nein find you both in that same position minutes later once the battle had officially ended and it was safe to leave, all tangled fingers and soft gazes. Fjord never wants to let go.

-

Jester 💜

"Are you gonna kiss me?" She's a little cross eyed, a little flushed and out of breath, and so so pretty this close up. Her eyes flick between your own, both your noses just barely grazing. "It feels like now would be a good time to kiss me." And it does.

But the moment is ruined when a swarm of soldiers charges right by the alley's entrance, and Jester lunges forward to hug you close. Together you find yourselves huddled further in the shadows while the enemy runs right by your hiding spot. She's so soft in your arms, perfect - it's like she belongs there - and you want to tell her that, but saying so out loud would easily blow your cover. So you settle for keeping her close, a hand in her hair while she ducks her head under your chin.

You wait until the last soldier has gone before you reluctantly remove yourself from the tiefling (who visibly pouts) and peek outside the alley. Once the coast is clear, you look over your shoulder, only to find Jester already looping arms with you. She smiles, this time confidently, and you enter daylight once more with no mention of the almost-kiss.

-

Mollymauk 💜

He doesn't say a word. Which, y'know, is ideal when skulking about in an abandoned alley, away from prying eyes of spies and mercenaries - but the way how Mollymauk is not-so-subtly glancing your way every few seconds is awfully distracting. You lightly push against his chest, tell him in a hushed voice to stop smirking so much, that this is a very serious situation. "What? Can I not look at you now? Can I not enjoy the little things while we fear for our lives? Who knows when I'll see something so lovely again~"

You push him again, a little more forcefully this time, and he actually barks a laugh, sways back to you and tilts his head with sticky fondness. There's a sudden commotion nearby - heavily armoured folk who suddenly look in the direction of the sound and touch their weapons suspiciously. Quick thinking in the moment has you press your body closely to Molly's, making your forms fit within shadow, and cover his mouth with your hand.

And he's silent again, but his expression has changed. He never looks away from you, nor you him, both of you holding breaths in anticipation - of being discovered, or of something more passionate, you are not completely sure - but the moment is never interrupted. When all is safe and sound once more after the hired fighters evacuate the nearby area, he slowly peels your hand away and presses a single, simple touch of his lips to your palm. It's barely even a kiss, but you don't mind. It's nothing. It's something. It's a promise.

-

Yasha 💜

She's... Well, you already knew that she was tall before this, but you never really knew exactly how tall Yasha was until you were up against each other in a tiny alleyway in some fancy town neither of you know the name of. It's a small space, and there are hired thugs sniffing around town looking for you and the Nein, but you feel so safe with the barbarian - a protective barrier between you and the rest of the world. Your face warms at the thought.

She peers down at you with a blank expression, and you expect awkward silence, but she surprises you with: "Well this is quite cosy, isn't it?" It's dark in the alley, but she can see the wrinkles by your eyes when you smile at her. Good. That'll ease the tension immensely... And the slightly nervous pitter patter of her heart.

Despite it all, she's a little flustered being so close to you. It's weirdly intimate caging you in, and she curses under her breath quietly when you look away bashfully and bite your lip with a grin. She's obviously done something right when you gently rest a hand on her arm and ease her wandering mind. She still feels that touch hours after, and wonders if you're thinking of it too.

-

Kingsley 💜

You don't want to admit it, but you're panicking. What started off as a cheeky side quest quickly spiralled into a catastrophe, and you now find yourself in a claustrophobic space with bad guys on your tails, and you have grazed knees after tripping earlier and you're stuck with your most charming friend who looks at you like he loves you, and it's all too much, and- "Hey, keep your eyes on me."

Kingsley is holding your face in his hands, and you can barely make out his crimson eyes in the dark, but you know he's giving you that look again. "We're gonna be fine, we're gonna get out of this. I'll buy you a drink later, you'll see." You want to believe him, even as your heart drums loudly in your chest, leftover adrenaline dulling in your veins. You follow his lead, breathe in, and breathe out as you move to hold the wrists of his hand that are cupping your face still. You find calm, and he looks proud. Maybe it's only a shadow of an expression in the dark though.

Instead of leading you back towards the ship, Kingsley takes you by the hand and dances around the crowded marketplace towards a quiet tavern on the outskirts of town. He reaches out and holds the door open for you, and grins when you look puzzled."I owe you a drink, remember?"

#critical role #critical role x reader #critical role imagines #critical role imagine #critical role fanfic #critical role fanfiction #critical role headcanons #critical role headcanon #beauregard lionett #beauregard lionett x reader #caleb widogast #caleb widogast x reader #fjord stone #fjord stone x reader #jester lavorre #jester lavorre x reader #mollymauk tealeaf #mollymauk tealeaf x reader #yasha nydoorin #yasha nydoorin x reader #kingsley tealeaf #kingsley tealeaf x reader #long may he reign #the mighty nein x reader #the mighty nein #mighty nein #mighty nein x reader #campaign 2 #mollymauk x reader #critical role campaign 2

[nellasbookplanet]

I find it really funny that I've seen multiple people joke about how the incredibly wary, suspicious mighty nein would have figured out Dusk's deal right away, while the more trusting bell's hells didn’t even bother with an insight check because you are all very, very right.

And it brings to mind what I talked about during exu calamity, about how in fiction there’s really no such thing as an inherently negative trait. Whether a trait has a positive or negative outcome depends wholly on the narrative it is in. A tragedy is only a tragedy because the hero is in the wrong story.

In the mighty nein's narrative, suspicion and wariness were traits to overcome. They caused nothing but strife and tensions within the group (Nott stealing from Fjord, Fjord and Molly both threatening Caleb, Caleb and Molly both being pressured into revealing their backstories before they were ready, Beau and Caleb's bowlgate clash, the list goes on). They were handed suspicious npc after suspicious npc, and were always rewarded once trusting them (Yussa, the Gentleman, Artagan, even Essek). Their villains were always openly villains, even the ones they briefly worked with such as Lucien and Avantika. The nein could only come together once they learned to trust each other, and once that lesson had been learned and made an integral part of the story, it would have been cruel to turn it against them. Thus, campaign 2 became a story about the rewards of extending trust.

The Bell's Hells, meanwhile, started out as much more trusting. Backstories were revealed much earlier, and never by force. There have been very little inter-group conflict, and what there have been (Laudna and Imogen's argument, Chetney's initial antagonism toward Dorian) are of a very different nature. If anything, for the Bell's Hells to truly come together they are going to need to be pushed and challenged from the outside (Dusk, Delilah depending on how you see it) because they aren’t as likely to push each other the way the nein did unprompted.

#time to ramble about narratives again #i also find it interesting that the most wary member of bells hells #(imogen) #is so used to people being unable to hide anything from her psychic abilities that she trusts almost to easily #critical role #cr3 #cr2 #critical role meta #nella talks cr

[stardustedknuckles]

I've seen a few people speculating that Beau must have busted Caleb's balls and set a boundary about calling after work hours, but I think that's doing them an incredible disservice as friends - siblings, even - and co-conspirators. You can't put office hours on information or family, and even Yasha complains loudly that he always has the worst timing. This is normal, and she's not actually fussed about it. Caleb remarking that calling outside of hours for Beau can be prickly feels a lot more like a dry inside joke from someone who has watched Beau tear many a proverbial new asshole on a bunch of coworkers than a man sheepishly encroaching on a boundary. This is the same man who regularly spread mud and bat shit on Beau's face and she just let him. They're a little past social niceties.

But what made me really happy was when he said "get your guest bedroom together, because we will probably be staying the night." THAT'S more indicative of their relationship than anything. Not "can we" or "is there a place for us" but the full knowledge that they bought a house with an extra bedroom specifically for this (who tf else do they know) and that they are welcome to it anytime. It makes me think of dinners where they've all had too much to drink and Yasha says seriously that he's not allowed to teleport while inebriated and plunks him physically into the spare bed. It makes me think of family, of the intersection of Caleb's introversion and the time he drunkenly asked Nott and Beau to come home with them when it was all over.

I don't think Caleb is lonely, leaving aside however much it might be natural to miss being part of a greater whole. And I certainly don't think his relationship with Beauregard is at all diminished. The sending stone call was every bit the two of them making each other deal with the other just as they always have, and doing so willingly because the love is always there. It's not that Caleb only calls when it's important. It's that when Caleb calls, it's important no matter what because it's Caleb.

And we can't forget that the only thing Beau heard amid the vagueries of doom and chaos was that the group was getting back together. She was so happy she told Yasha to get dressed.

Whatever their feelings about where they are in life, the empire kids are doing just fine with each other.

#cr spoilers #beauregard lionett #caleb widogast #Empire kids #Empire siblings

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have seven clothing fics recced! Some are perfectly light and fluffy, and some are heart wrenching in all the best ways. Check them out under the cut, and as ever, comment or kudos if you like them!

Ornaments by Crykea (1002,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Mollymauk Tealeaf does not know who he was, and frankly, he doesn't care. Along with his family at the Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities, Mollymauk discovers who he is.

Reccer says: A cute pre-campaign story about Molly finding himself through clothing and accessories

What You Have And What You Hate by sheerdelight (1683,General) Warnings: Canonical Major Character Death Pairings: Beauregard Lionett & Mollymauk Tealeaf

Beau dons Molly's coat.

Reccer says: A loving look at Beau's grief after Molly's death, shown through her taking his coat

The Tale Of The Amazing Technicolor Gravecoat by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink) (2380,General) Warnings: None Pairings:

A bard tells a tale in a crowded tavern, not knowing that a group of renowned adventurers are listening....

Reccer says: A great outsider point of view and an original idea!

As Though It Were Made for Me by remi_wolf (3345,General) Warnings: Pairings: Jester Lavorre & Caleb Widogast

Jester might have meant the offer to Caleb of one of her dresses as a teasing joke to lighten the mood, but Caleb never actually said that he was opposed to the idea. Even if she had forgotten in the madness that was the rest of the day, Caleb certainly hadn't, and now that they were resting for the evening at the Xhorhaus, he could finally see if Jester could make good on the offer outside the gates of Zadash.

Reccer says: Some thoughtful genderfuckery involving Caleb, extremely fluffy

the brightest shade of sun (when i saw you) by genesis_frog (496,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Caleb WIdogast & Nott the Brave

Her clothing is rags, purposefully inconspicuous and purposefully plain, as if she were trying not to think of her body at all. She buys a yellow dress in Xhorhas

Reccer says: It's absolutely sweet and heartbreaking

Ribbons and Poison Blossom by Beauteousmajesty (1008,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Orym & Fearne

On the skyship over to Jrusar, Fearne injures her arm. In helping her out, Orym gets the delight of figuring out how her clothes go together.

Reccer says: I love Orym and Fearne's friendship but also how Fearne's dress stays up is a mystery for the ages

The Titan's New Clothes by MasterQwertster (440,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Ashton gets their new clothes and does some reflecting on their personal growth.

Reccer says: Just a fun little introspection on the Lvl10 outfit upgrade

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring time skip/future fics!

Then, it'll be pranks, Ashton focused, and game nights!

Any fics coming to mind?  Well, then use this form to submit!

If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!

#critical role #critter genfic rec lists #cr fan fic #the mighty nein #bells hells #mollymauk tealeaf #beauregard lionett #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #nott the brave #orym of the air ashari #fearne calloway #ashton greymoore

[troubleisafriend]

MISTIFIED STARTER CALL & INFO- Jester Lavorre

This one was supposed to be small ;_; But then...well, you'll see down below. Anyway, this'll be an uncapped event starter call for the Mistified rerun! Details under the readmore about what you may encounter with this leetol blue tiefling. Beware of spoilers- aka

XAV DON'T LOOK

RESIDUAL DATA IMPRINTS:

The Lavish Chateau: A very upper-class bordello in the coastal town of Nicodranas. Jester grew up here! You’re bound to see an even more adorable and littler blue tiefling running around the memories here.

The Xhorhaus: A quite comfortable mansion in the Sun-bereft city of Rosohna; this place was gifted to the Mighty Nein for their deeds performed for the Kryn Dynasty. You may even get to see some of them around here, though probably not to interact with…probably…

SENTIENT DATA IMPRINTS:

The Traveler/Artagan: The archfey who became Jester’s first friend and the deity who provides her with her powers. Not hostile, but very mischievous and kind of condescending.

Marion Lavorre: Jester’s mom! (has got it going on) A beautiful red tiefling with a beautiful voice and nurturing presence. Not hostile.

The Gentleman: Jester’s dad! A handsome perpetually moist water genasi who exudes a suave demeanor and works as a crime boss, though the composure can be swiftly dismantled by his daughter. Not initially hostile, but can be made to be.

Isharnai: An old, creepy hag(literally, not as an insult)who enjoys dealing in others’ misery. Was tricked by Jester, who stays in friendly contact with her, into undoing her friend’s curse and is very interested in meeting her again because of it. Potentially hostile.

Avantika: An elf pirate who Jester and her friends ran into on their adventures. Worships the leviathan Uk’otoa (Uk’otoa…) and is very disliked by Jester for her relationship with the tiefling’s friend/crush Fjord. Comes in living and undead flavors! Likely hostile.

The Mighty Nein: Jester’s friends!! The brave, morally-ambiguous adventuring party she traveled with, the people who she would die and kill for more quickly than almost anyone else in the world. Brief summations:

Caleb Widogast: Human wizard. Quiet, bookish, and usually kind of dirty(literally, not as in attitude), but very curious about the arcane. Has a cat familiar named Frumpkin. Nott the Brave: Goblin rogue. A kleptomaniac with a drinking problem, quick to shoot first and ask questions later, but deeply motivated to protect the family she has. Beauregard Lionett: Human monk. A brusque young woman, distrustful and kind of a showoff, but stubborn in the face of adversity and determined to root out corruption wherever she finds it. Fjord: Orc warlock. Handsome and charming, he’s quick to take the main speaking role for his party, though seems to have had some trouble adjusting to actual leadership. Yasha Nydoorin: Aasimar barbarian. Physically imposing in height and muscles, as well as her pale skin contrasting with her black-to-white hair and sunken eyes, but outside of combat is very soft-spoken, sweet, and kind of socially awkward. Mollymauk Tealeaf: Tiefling blood hunter. A charismatic, colorful character, he’s drawn to the weird and theatrical, and seeks to better the world around him even through deceptive means. Caduceus Clay: Firbolg cleric. An incredibly insightful, soothing presence, sure to offer you some tea if given the chance. Spaces out from time to time. Easily keeps the rest of the group grounded. Essek Thelyss: Drow wizard. A hardworking loner, not very good at interacting with people. Time with the Nein has helped him open up, though he’s still likely to be terse around strangers.

Not likely to show up all at once bc let’s not act like the person writing this is going to be RPing six to eight other characters at a time. Not hostile, though they can be a bit abrasive in their own ways.

#isola starter call #isola rp ad #isola event: mistified rerun

[barrelbastards]

So I started watching the 2nd campaign for critical role (I just finished ep 37 I think) and I’m just so irritated with beau. I mean before when all Caleb wanted to do was go to the library she demanded to know his deepest secret- sure she didn’t know what it entailed but seeing someone go into a near catatonic state makes it clear that this is some heavy shit- or she wouldn’t take him and then threw it in his face multiple times when she learned the truth and then when he thanked her for not telling anybody and wanted to do something nice for her as a thanks she said “I mean I still might tell people” and then there on a freaking hostile pirate ship in the middle of the ocean far away from everyone and everything with no means for escape and fjord had literally just said that he would tell them anything else pertaining to his dreams and shit he IMMEDIATELY lies to everyone (pretty obviously) and when Caleb pulls her aside to say something and she gets shitty with him and says that she just likes to know peoples secrets not share them???? Like so the only reason you asked Caleb was just so you could know and now that someone could be keeping secrets that could actively hurt you and your friends you’re just chill??

This reminds me of the scene where they’re all ganging up on nott after they tried framing the people in Zedash. It seems to me that everyone else is allowed to do whatever they want but not nott and definitely not Caleb.

#not tagging this as anything specific because i really don’t want to be attacked #idk how the fandom feels about her so I’m just gonna play it safe #but this really annoyed me so much that I didn’t watch the next episode #it’s like there’s a group and then Caleb and nott are on the outside even though they haven’t done anything wrong yet #maybe it’s just that beau and calebs personalities clash but he’s trying to be a friend to her #and she straight up is not trying at all #that bullshit apology after yelling at him over the magic bowl doesn’t count in my eyes because she still went on #to throw that shit in his face

[c-is-for-circinate]

Episode! One! Reaction!

Oh wow I am not used to the 1 AM thing any more, I got so used to actually sleeping, wow.

Okay just rattling some thoughts off, here we go:

I love all four of our new characters so much? Like, so much that I almost regret the returning characters we also have, not because I don't also love them but because what if we had more of this. (But soon they'll all be this together, whatever this turns out to be.)

I am so serious about class as a major theme of this campaign. Like, obviously it's only episode one! who knows! But I'm feeling something-something-solidarity-something out of our new characters, and Bertrand Bell intersects with that in some really interesting ways, and I think I really want it?

Because right, you could tell from episode one of the last campaign that this was an outsider narrative! This overarching, constant theme that we carried through for a hundred and twenty-odd episodes was that this was a motley group of people who don't fit anywhere. The goblin in the mask, the cleric of a forbidden god, the traveling carnival that nobody trusts which can only stay so long and not longer -- it was about social isolation, about being alone, and having the chance to find a handful of other people to be weird outsiders with. (And yes, of course the final big bad at the end of the campaign was assimilation. Of course it was.)

And the thing is: that's not what we have, here.

(oh no, episode one meta got long, Read More after the cut)

Our characters starting out here -- and I'm leaving the EXU trio to the side for a moment, I'll get to them later -- are poor. And they're poor in a different way than newbie adventurers often are. They're not just temporarily strapped for cash until they take the next easy-to-come-by job that will set them up for life. They are poor in lifestyle, in resources, in connections, in socioeconomic power, and in a way that suggests this is and has been and, were it not for today's events, would continue to be a long-term thing.

And also: They are not wealthy, they are not important, they are not respected. But they are also, even outside their own party, not alone.

I love Imogen and Laudna so fucking much, already. Everything about their vibe speaks to long comfortable companionship, not of the 'we rely on each other for codependent survival' way (which, face it, is as much pre-game Vax and Vex as it is pre-game Nott and Caleb), but in a 'we know and share each other's problems' sort of way, a comfortable sort of way. They're not busy trying to caretake one another or step in front of each other's bullets, they're just on the same page about goals and steps to reach them.

They're not set up in opposition to the world. They're very much part of the world. They buy groceries for their landlady, they do her dishes, she knits them socks! They try so hard to go through official channels for these university resources. And yes, they're different, they're not from around here, they're a little weird, Imogen hears thoughts and Laudna looks like death, but. "We've done well for ourselves here," they say, and they mean it. And what that means to them is, we have a warm and comfortable place to call home, and a person who welcomes us there and doesn't charge more for rent than we can afford. We have enough to live on and we haven't been chased out of town on a rail.

And like, just that, just with that, we're already making class statements. We're already setting up a situation where these two ladies, who don't have money, who don't have influence or relations, who aren't important, can't get access to a resource they need (for whatever reason). (Which--it sure seems like the resource they're looking for is knowledge about their own magical powers, which, y'know, fun magic bonuses aside, sure seem to work a lot like disabilities for them in at least a couple of ways. Socioeconomic gatekeeping access to disability resources? In my fantasy fiction? It's more likely than you think.)

And then we get Ashton and FCG, and the fucking queer punk group house that is inhabited by too many people with not quite enough money to pay the cheap-ass rent that doesn't quite cover repair work for the holes in the walls, not really enough of anything to go around, but also someone found a half-broken robot in a pile of dead bodies and brought it home and now we have one more roommate because sure, why not, right? Ashton's all surface cynicism and sour bite, but they know people. They network! They live gig-economy style, one payday to the next, and they know who to talk to for the possibility of work, dozens of people know Ashton by name and general skill set. Ashton knows them all by name right back. And for all their cynicism and pretense of not caring, they've adopted FCG entirely: here, this is my new robot friend, this is the new guy, this is what they can do, this is what they're looking for. Here, let me show you around town, let me tell you what to expect, you're cool, I like you. (And right, part of this is Taliesin, who is literally incapable of creating a character that doesn't have a place and a community, family or otherwise, broken or otherwise, to belong to. But Percy's family was dead and Caduceus's family was gone, and Molly's circus broke and shattered and left him. Ashton's community is an entire neighborhood, is businesses and individuals and fundamental socioeconomics. He may have to leave it for a while, but it's going to still be there, unless the entire neighborhood burns. In which case we really are looking at total class warfare.)

And ok, let's talk about class warfare for a minute. Let's talk Bertrand Bell.

I am so fucking fascinated by the choice to revive Bertrand Bell, of all characters, for this campaign. And I love the role he's playing here.

Bertrand Bell is a con man. He's a charlatan. He once got dragged through literal Pandemonium and back because he bragged too much and got called out on it. He has always pretended to know more than he really knows, to be able to do more than he really can, getting by on bluff and swagger and a very impressive sword. But now? Well, he's older, now. He's not level 18 any more. He's a level 5 fighter. He's got to work to stay up with the lifestyle to which he's accustomed, let alone grind towards the lifestyle to which he's always aspired to become accustomed.

So he drops names, he makes deals, he tries so damn hard to ingratiate himself to the upper class, the people he wants to be with. And they don't respect him at all, because of course they don't, because they're elderly in secure luxury and he's elderly but still on that hustle, because he doesn't have the resources to put it down. And his solution to his dilemma, very pertinently, is to prey on people with even fewer resources than himself.

I absolutely believe the aspersions cast on 'did Bertrand Bell set up the whole animated-objects debacle to try and lure some promising adventurers'. One hundred percent, I believe it. He jumped on them the instant the fight was over. He was obviously desperate, given his reception at Lord E's manor. It is painfully transparent how much he thinks he needs this, and it doesn't even seem to be a case of blackmail or gambling debts or threats hanging over him or any of that. Lord E would've been happy enough to never see him again. The only bad thing that happens to Bertrand Bell if he doesn't summon up this group of baby adventurers to sacrifice on the altar of upward mobility is that...he doesn't get what he wants. Doesn't get the resources he thinks he needs, the money, the clout, the status, the attention.

And that's an interesting story! That's a really interesting force to be putting up alongside a team of people who, for the most part, largely just seem to be trying to get by. I can't wait to see where they go with it.

I did promise to come back around to our EXU trio, too, so let's get into that. They've got a lot of interesting potential here, maybe especially Dorian, though we'll see how long he's sticking around for. (He's a born-and-raised very rich kid, from this general region of the globe, who left his family for Complicated Reasons and clearly has unresolved feelings about the wealth he came from. Interesting.) Mostly, though, what we see from Fearne and Orym is an outsider perspective on the entire system. Fearne and Orym aren't part of the class structure of this city. They're tourists. Foreigners. Adventurers, and if we've seen anything over on Tal'dorei, it's that "adventurer" is its own socioeconomic class entirely. (The details of which I think are due when it's not two in the morning.)

Adventurers don't worry about the day-to-day basic economics of survival -- there's always another monster to kill if you need cash, or a wealthy patron to spot you an airship or an inn, or a vault to loot, or something. Fearne steals a man's earring for fun and shinies, not money. An adventurer doesn't have to rely on the goodwill of one city's community just to live in, because they can travel anywhere. They bring their own community in the form of their party, and never leave home without it.

Orym and Fearne especially don't come from socioeconomic backgrounds that look anything like this city even before they became adventurers. Druid communes or feywild villages don't have a lot in common with urban class stratification! Which means that they're going to be learning a lot of this stuff for the very first time, seeing some of it reflecting on their fellow party members, and building their relationships with it anew. How do tourists fit in with a local socioeconomic system? Either they fund it from the outside with their presence, or they assimilate.

.

.

.

Anyway. Maybe I'm wrong! Maybe none of these themes or ideas will ever come back again. But I'm feeling very 2021 right now, with all that entails, and it's making me think that maybe-just-maybe this story's feeling it too. Why not tell a story about eating the rich before the rich can devour the poor? I'd be up for that. I'd be up for watching CR do that.

(Of course, given that it's a quarter after two in the morning and I still care enough to finish this post, I'd be up for watching CR do a lot of things. Still. The point stands.)

#C watches critical role #cr spoilers #driveby meta attack #critrole #fuck how the hell did I tag these

[vethbrenatto]

bertrand’s death (if permanent. which i think we’re all assuming it is permanent, at such a low level with no one nearby to get him) was very well done, with very well placed foreshadowing by travis throughout the episode.

i have seen the take of comparing this to molly’s death and i don’t think they’re comparable.

i think it’s definitely possible for the party to have guilt over what happened to bertrand, especially dorian, who was with bertrand in his last moments and so clearly trying to get him to safety.

but molly’s death was a party member the m9 knew for considerably longer. it was still early campaign, they didn’t know each other that well yet, molly didn’t know nott was veth, he didn’t know caleb’s history. but they did choose to be together at that point. they did like each other’s company.

and the point at which molly left made a very real imprint of grief upon the campaign. leaving in that half state where he was a friend, but still not too much more than an idea, led to some very interesting idealizations that we see later with the m9. beau’s emphasis of “leave every place better than you found it” was a molly trademark, jester’s cries of “what if molly was a god??” and “molly KNEW things, he knew things, beau!” he became only the good parts of himself that he had shown, while outsiders who had seen molly in the first 26 episodes, knew that that certainly wasn’t what he portrayed while he was in the nein.

if we compare bertrand, we have a situation that innately boils down to: a mysterious old man recruits the gang mid-fight and ropes them into doing some (accidental) mercenary work for coin. to say that the group sees him as a friend is a big stretch. to say that the group trusts him is an even bigger stretch. to say that the group finds him somewhat endearing, that’s very possible. 

anyway, TLDR, all i’m trying to say from this is that they might feel some guilt from bertrand’s death, especially considering how they reacted to danas’s death, and danas was actively against them. but bertrand was an old dude they knew for 2-3 days. (i could make a separate post about how he was an excellent and creative tool for bringing the party together, but that’s a different thing altogether). to say this will leave a shadow of grief over the 7 other individuals in the party i think is VASTLY overselling it.

#cr spoilers #critical role #bertrand bell #mollymauk tealeaf #critical role meta

[the-kaedageist]

Reality slowly reasserts itself in Mollymauk’s life.

He’s someplace comfortable. There’s nature, and friendly pink firbolgs who bring him meals and speak to him in friendly tones. Yasha strokes his hair and curls up with him, a reminder that she’s his favorite person on the planet. His other friends come and go as well, making sure there’s always someone with him. There are conversations in the background, but Molly’s mind is so full with relearning the world that he doesn’t quite register what they’re talking about.

Words slowly filter back. Names come first – Yasha. Caleb, the magician, who speaks to him in quiet, accented tones. Sometimes a new name – Essek – joins him, a dark elf man who sits quietly by his side, not saying much. Jester, joy personified, beautiful and lively, who draws him pictures and sits side by side with him under a tree outside and names words for every living creature they see. Beauregard, who curls up with him and Yasha sometimes, Yasha pressing a fond kiss to her hairline.  Yasha has found love, and Molly is happy for her, even if it had to be with someone like Beau. Fjord, who skirts around the edges of the group but remains present, often hanging out with another new name – Caduceus – or Jester.

There’s another new name, but belonging to an old friend – Veth. He knew her as Nott, he realizes as more words come back, and she was once a goblin. Now she’s a halfling, dark and petite, and she tells him stories about her family. He remembers her as a feral alcoholic thief, and it is strange to paste this new person over the memory of the old.

But that is true of the memory of all of his friends, is it not? Yasha is changed, almost completely transformed, her hair different and her face alight with joy. She carries herself with a different weight, a solid happiness within her, and her clear affection for Beauregard is delightful. The Caleb he remembers was still handsome, but barely washed himself, never made eye contact, and stayed to the back of the group. The Caleb that he meets now is confident, clean, and handsome, determined and headstrong. Jester and Fjord are still similar, reflections rather than echoes of the people he remembers, but Fjord stands taller, with a handsome beard and better musculature, and Jester seems to have grown into herself, confident and wise even as she remains her delightful, silly self.

It is a startling thing, to realize that his friends grew on without him. It is even more startling to wonder how he will learn to fit in with them once more.

And so, every day, Molly climbs out from emptiness and rediscovers the world.

#cr fic #cr spoilers #critical role #critical role fic #mollymauk tealeaf #yasha nydoorin #the mighty nein #c2e140 #this was going to be a longer piece but then it turned into the meta I published on saturday instead #but I still like it! #so here you go! #enjoyyy #my fics #episode posts #c2 eps

[doodlesbysamiel]

Okay but hear me out. We all love the idea of Essek dropping in during one of Caleb's lessons while as a teacher at the academy... but imagine the whole of the M9 busting through the door of his class as a birthday surprise or something! Like one minute he's giving a lecture on the crafting of advances Transmutation Spells, specifically using the spell he made for turning Nott back into Veth as an example, the next there's a ruckus outside his door and it all but busts off the hinges as an over eager, Jester tries to open it with brute strength. Then every member of the Mighty Nein, Essek (disguised of course) and all pile through all trying to sing happy birthday in the most broken Zemnian imaginable. The students look between teacher and this random group of assholes that just barged in and Caleb, internally surprised, elated and horrified, but outside just looks so Done.

The M9: *in a pile barely through the door* HAPPY BIRTHDAY CALEB!

Caleb: And what are you all doing here?

Beau: it's your birthday man! We gotta celebrate!

Jester: We got everyone together! We even managed to find Shakaste and Keg and everyone!

Caleb looks to Essek: and you let them do this?

Essek shrugs: I thought it would be fun.

Meanwhile the students are just stunned. Who are these guys? They had heard rumours that Professor Widogast used to adventure. Was this is group? What was with the huge Pink Firbolg? Or the Purple pirate looking guy? Was that a fucking Expositor standing on the back of a Half-Orc in a tri-corn? Just what the fuck!

Celeb finally just sighs dismisses class early. It was his last of the day any way, and goes to the party his family have set up for him and just falls back into old, comfortable routines.

God I need this to be a thing

#critical role #critical role spoilers #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #beau #Fjord #Jester #Yasha #the mighty nein #Veth #Kingsley #cadueces clay #essek #cr spoilers

[joycrispy]

I don’t think we as a fandom really appreciate the extent to which Caduceus Is Baby.

Like, I’m sorry to keep harping on this, but. From the very beginning Taliesin has said that Cad doesn’t know his actual chronological age (could be anywhere from 80 to 120 --I tend to split the difference and place him squarely at a century old, in my headcanons), but in firbolg terms he’s in his early twenties. Early twenties. I see some people calling him 24 or 25 or older --that is not EARLY twenties. That’s mid. Early twenties is 23 at the very latest, and I suspect he is not even that.

Because when they had their zombie-swamp group therapy session, he mentioned that older family members used to go away for months at a time, and that ‘eventually’ he would start doing the same. When he was old enough. Implication: as recently as ten human years ago his family still considered him an adolescent.

(Taliesin also repeatedly refers to Cad leaving home as a rumspringa, which is an adolescent rite of passage --a literal coming of age)

Dude is like. 20 or 21. At most. He is baby but he is very, very good at pretending he isn’t (it helps that he’s 7 feet tall with an extremely deep voice), at least around a bunch of emotionally neutered chucklefucks like the Nein.

This has the following implications, for me:

--He and Jester have so, so much in common. Both clerics; both isolated all their lives; both loved deeply but imperfectly by flawed family members; both more connected to their gods than anyone they know in the flesh; and both, in a strange way, trying to act out the stories they heard growing up, because those stories (romance and adventure for Jester, myths and destiny for Caduceus) are the only frame of reference they have for the outside world. 

They even both had their big stupid first crush on the same boy.

It makes emotional sense to me, therefore, that they should be peers in this way. Tied for the youngest members of the Nein. Definitely adults (and want to be seen as such) but still children in the eyes of their parents. Looking out for everyone else, and each other. TEAM CLERIC, man. They give me the feelings.

--Veth is, so far, the only one who has actually noticed He Is Baby. She saw him with his mom (his mom who!! Picked him up and swung him around!! Cute!!) and went, “Oh shit. Mr. Clay is...someone’s youngest son? Oh shit.” And that made her realize how badly she wanted to be there for her son (and pick him up and swing him around, probably). Since then, she’s actually been quite sweet to him? I like it a lot.

--It makes their interactions with Nila much funnier. Caleb and Nott and Beau were all freaking out over this wise, creepy sage they found in the woods and Nila looked at him with his dyed hair and his ear-gauges and his long skinny body and went “he seems like a nice, normal firbolg?” which I now take to mean, “Haven’t y’all ever seen a college student before?”

--He’s going to be like. 28. When the rest of the Nein dies of old age. Oh no.

#Critical Role #Caduceus Clay #fjorclay #(briefly) #my cr meta

[nightowlwriting]

summary: fjord takes care of the mighty nein. you take care of fjord. (part 4/13 of the kindness series, a thematically connected series of c2/exu imagines)

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of self-hatred, bullying, lack of self-confidence

note: idk why this one took me so long and, honestly, it was almost super nsfw lmfao

masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Fjord is a man who appears to know exactly what he needs and when he needs it. You’re not so sure. You tend to hang back when the group talks to people, or finds jobs for coin, just to watch. That’s what you like to do - get information, tuck it away, use it later.

It just happens that sometimes you end up watching Fjord. There’s no reason, not really. He’s the leader by default, no matter how much Nott will say that it’s Caleb. He does most of the talk, smiling all coy and leaning against things to charm the party’s way through whatever Gods forsaken situation you end up in. It mostly works, with some exceptions. There are things you begin to notice in the nights after Fjord has failed to charm someone with a well-placed wink, or a sir or a ma’am. He makes the fire just a little bit larger, stacking logs and kindling and using his flint so that Caleb doesn’t have to use his magic. He cooks heartier food, sometimes even disappearing and coming back with a skewered animal from the forest to add to the pot of simmering soup. He takes the first watch and doesn’t wake anyone until halfway through the second watch so that everyone can sleep longer, even if it makes him crabby the morning after.

You come to a conclusion. Fjord takes care of people when he feels like he’s not enough. He overcompensates in his acts of kindness when something he does fails - but why? To make you all stay? To make sure you know his worth in the group? To make up for whatever he sees as a downfall? Honestly, you’re worried it’s a little bit of all three. You’re not really sure about how the mind works - that would be more for Molly, or Caleb honestly - but growing up in an orphanage with children who pick and prod at your every physical characteristic cannot be good for a person. Especially with Fjord insisting that he doesn’t have a last name, despite the times that he introduces himself and you see it die on his lips before he can say it. There’s something there, but you won’t pry. People deserve their secrets. They deserve to keep something for themselves.

If he wants to keep his last name, that’s fine with you. If he wants to keep the self-loathing inside of him until he explodes, well, that’s not fine with you. That’s why when you realize that he decompresses by making himself useful, as if the group might dismiss him just because a few people were immune to his charms, you decide to do something. No amount of reassurance from anyone will convince him otherwise and the rest of the group tends to shrug away from his slightly overbearing kindness when something goes south. Caleb, Beau, and Molly are just uncomfortable with it while Jester is usually too engrossed in journaling, Tusk Love, or talking to the Traveler. Nott is somewhere between Caleb and Yasha (uncomfortable and straight-up not around to be doted on.) And… Well, that leaves you.

It’s not that you mind Fjord’s constant doting after he perceives something to have gone wrong, but it’s hard to let him in. Your life before the Mighty Nein wasn’t exactly peaches and cream, either, but you know that he needs this. He needs to feel like he’s doing something for someone or he’ll break. You only notice that, though, after a particularly rough, rainy day of trying to get information out of people for a job. Fjord had forgotten something important which threw off the communication and sent everyone you were working with into an angry tizzy. By the time you make it back to the tavern, everyone is soaked to the bone and cranky, even you - and you tried your best to avoid getting out in the rain. What you really want to do is go back to your room and change out of your wet clothes and then go to fucking bed, but you hold back. The group disperses one by one until it’s just you and Fjord left at the bar, and before you can make your leave you see his hands shaking. His hands, which are large and calloused and strong, are shaking like a leaf in the wind. There’s no other outward sign that he’s feeling stressed or upset, and that surprises you. It also worries you. This is not how Fjord acts when something goes wrong. He doesn’t sit at the bar and brood over an ale - he mother-hens his friends until they’re sick to death of hearing his deep, drawling voice.

The combination of these things is probably what makes you pause halfway out of your seat, eyes narrow and trained on him. He makes eye contact for a brief second before looking back down to his drink. You know that approaching and asking him if he’s okay will get you nowhere but you can’t leave him alone at the bar, not when you know he’s stewing on every mistake, every misstep, whether they really happened or he’s just overanalyzing his movements. He’s your… He’s more than a friend to you, despite the fact that he doesn’t know that and you don’t show it outwardly. Fjord means too much to you to be able to let him sit and spiral into a funnel of self-doubt. You know that it will be weird to put your pride to the side and ask for help, but you also know that you don’t really need help.

But asking Fjord for help means that he’ll feel better and you think that’s a very good reason to shelf your pride for a night.

He barely looks up at you when you approach, still dripping all over the tavern’s floors and hesitant to speak. He doesn’t speak, either, just takes another long pull from his ale to bide his time until you leave. (Probably.) You take the leap first and say his name. “Fjord.” He doesn’t look at you. “I know we’ve all had a bad day,”

“You can say that again,” He snorts.

“We have,” You stress, one hand finding the hilt of the dagger on your waist for some sort of comfort. You’re wildly uncomfortable and can feel the urge to run, get away, flee building up in your gut. If you’re not careful, it’ll spill out your mouth and you’ll be forced out of the tavern for the night in humiliation and self-preservation. “It has been one hell of a day today. I do not want to be alone.” Your sentence cuts off briskly and Fjord looks up in surprise. Your face mirrors his - untamed surprise. You had really opened your mouth to ask if he wanted to find a table and listen to your vent but what came out was I do not want to be alone. You blink and think what the fuck? Before Fjord is shaking off his surprise and standing.

“I suppose I can give Molly the room for the night.” He extends an arm towards you but doesn’t look at you. He’s doing a much better job of hiding how strange you’re acting than you are but still, you’re not going to let this opportunity pass. You wrap your own arm around Fjord’s and he begins to lead you toward the stairs. “Anything specific bothering you?”

“Nothing really,” You hum as you respond, hoping that by allowing him past your walls that it will help him, “Today is just a bad day.” Fjord halfheartedly agrees and your nerves shoot through the roof when he leaves you at your door, explaining that he’s going to warn Molly that he won’t be in the room tonight. You nod at him and slip into your own room, leaving the door cracked so that he won’t feel awkward about entering. Your laundry is everywhere and you grit your teeth, doing your best to hold back a scream. God damnit, you’re about to have the man that you have a crush on in your room and today is the day you threw your laundry all over?

It doesn’t even matter that he’s traveled with you in carts where there is no possible way to not overlap on laundry slash unmentionables. You still dash about, shoving your laundry into a pile in the corner and covering it with your weapons and shield just before Fjord raps his knuckles against the door frame, calling your name. You shiver and invite him in, wringing your hands as you stand in front of the unlit fireplace. “Are you okay?” He’s so earnest and it makes you feel… A little bad. You don’t want to say no to having Fjord be with you overnight because his presence is so calming, but it’s also… He’s not in your room because…

Ugh. “Fjord,” You say before you can stop yourself, “Okay, so, you can’t be mad but I noticed when things go wrong you’re really, really hard on yourself and you shouldn’t be. And I also noticed that when you’re hard on yourself you dive into taking care of other people because, I don’t know, maybe it feels like you’re doing something good? I’m not sure, but I really meant to ask if you wanted to talk but then that came out instead but I can’t let you stay in here if you don’t know why I asked.” He stands there, taking in what you’ve said, and then shakes his head. Your room is dark - too dark for you to see whether or not the small smile on his face is actually there or if you’re imagining it. When he chuckles, you’re more apt to believe that Fjord is actually smiling even after the day he’s had. “Um,” You finally cut the silence, “Please say something.”

“You mean to tell me,” He drawls, stepping slowly closer and removing his chest plate. It’s like his mood has gone a full 180 from where it was when he left you outside of your room, “That you looked so awkward and like a li’l kicked puppy because you wanted to help me feel better?” He sets his chest plate on the table, coming into your sight as your vision begins to adjust. You don’t get a good look at what’s happening on his face because you look away very quickly, setting your jaw.

“Well, when you put it that way,” You grumble and cross your arms, “You just like to help people - it makes you feel better.”

Fjord comes to a stop in front of you and sighs, but doesn’t say anything. Your hands begin to shake and honestly, you regret your stupid fucking decision to try and help Fjord out. You wouldn’t be here, standing in front of him and purely humiliated, if you didn’t look at him and notice so much. He finally responds, one of his hands coming up to touch at your bicep and then trails up until he’s cupping your shoulder. “I do like to help people,” He’s speaking more from his chest than his mouth, and you can almost feel the rumble through the grip he has on your shoulder. It’s not tight but it’s there, heavy and comforting. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“I notice a lot,” You supply, tugging your chin away when Fjord tries to use the other hand to make you look at him. It’s only after he says your name in a soft voice that you look. You’re surprised to see that he looks soft… Soft and fond. “Please,” You whisper, uncrossing your arms to grab both of his wrists. You’re not even sure what you’re asking for but the way that you whispered please is the closest to begging that you’ve ever gotten.

“Please?” Fjord says, sounding incredibly confused but soft at the same time. You shake your head, trying again to look away from him. He ducks down, catching your eyes again, “It’s just me, remember? This is why you asked me here, isn’t it? To help you feel better?”

To your horror, you feel yourself mist up. “I invited you here so you could feel better, Fjord. I don’t want you to be so hard on yourself, and the only time I’ve seen you calm down after a bad day is when you’re taking care of one of us. I thought… Even if I don’t really need to be taken care of, that would help you. I just want… I want you to feel better.” He steps closer toward you, caging you into the rough stone of the fireplace but doesn’t speak. You’re almost worried that Fjord is going to cold clock you, but then he does something that you expected even less.

He surges forward and kisses you. Every part of him nearly engulfs you - the hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your neck, anchoring you to him, while he groans deep in the back of his throat. Your hands scramble for some purchase to express your surprise, landing on his hearty shoulders, clenching in the fabric of his shirt. You sigh into Fjord’s groan, and press as close as possible to his body heat. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it, you’ve been craving this: closeness with another person, pressing tight against their body… You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that when you thought of that, of intimacy, that you pictured Fjord. You just didn’t think he pictured you.

Fjord surges forward again, and you feel the soft scrape of tusks against you when he opens his mouth to breathe, keeping his nose pressed tightly to yours. “I didn’t think,” He says, accent thinner than you’ve heard previously, “I never dreamed that you would feel…”

“Oh, I feel,” You tell him, slowly moving your hands until you can intertwine your fingers behind his neck, “I feel so much, Fjord.”

“You never said…” He sneaks another kiss between his words, dropping his hands to squeeze at your waist, “You never even let on that you see me this way.”

“I do a lot of looking and not a lot of showing,” You remind him - it was something he had said to you when you first joined his group. I always catch you lookin’, but you never show. It’s terribly funny because he’d said it while the Mighty Nein were all naked, sudsy, and sharing a bathhouse at Molly’s insistence. The group had a field day with that and still does. The memory is apparently still fresh in Fjord’s head because a blush creeps high over his cheeks and he looks away, flustered. “You’re strong and pretty and beautiful and you take care of us so well. Even when you’ve had a bad day. I look up to you so much, but at the same time I want, perhaps selfishly, to take care of you in ways that you might not take care of the group.” He almost looks surprised at what you’ve said, but then it melts into a look of soft adoration. Fjord kisses you again and then drags his lips lightly over the arch of your cheek before he rests his head on your shoulder where he inhales deeply, his breath tickling your throat. You can feel his hands contracting against your waist, like he wants to touch and feel but is settling for keeping them where they are and feeling the soft give of your flesh. You know your heart is spinning at what feels like a million miles per hour, and you know that he can probably hear it, too. You can’t find anything in you that cares, though, because you’re so close to Fjord. He smells like saltwater, you realize. Not in a way that it seems like he’s been coughing it up again, or in the ocean, but just sort of… Naturally. Like he’s always smelled that way. Like you’ve always known he smelled that way. Like you were always meant to know and to find comfort in it. You pull yourself closer, relishing in the way that you hold each other, and Fjord sighs. You can feel the way that he relaxes underneath your hold and you relax, too.

This… This is the way that it’s supposed to be. This is how you can do for Fjord what he’s done for your team - except different. Except more.

#critical role imagine #c2 imagine #cr imagine #fjord stone imagine #fjord imagine #fjord stone x reader #fjord x reader #fjord stone / reader #fjord / reader #campaign 2 imagine #critfic

[julandran]

They said, “No.”

It started as a bit of a joke. “We are The Mighty Nein.” Big no. Hard pass. The unwanted underdogs. The players and characters poked fun at Liam/Caleb’s accent, so he gently poked back. And yet…

It stuck. It became an ethos. Standing up for the little guy. Leaving a place just a little bit better than you found it. Doing what’s right, even if you have to work with someone of questionable morals, break a few unjust laws, or risk an international incident along the way. And most of all, standing up for each other.

In their finest moments, the Nein have protected each of their members from threats big and small, and even from themselves. They shielded Nott/Veth from anti-goblin bigotry and from her own alcohol-fueled recklessness. Since her transformation back to her original halfling form, they have done everything in their power to ensure that she can return to her family when the adventuring is done. They have backed up Beau as she sorted out her complex relationships with both the Cobalt Soul and her family, helped her explore possible paths outside those spheres, and reminded her of her value to the group when she needed it. They have guided Caleb out of the shadows and ashes of guilt he was wallowing in, and stood by his side as he confronted the monsters from his childhood. They have shown Jester that there is value in her joy and mischief, but it’s also okay to express her sadness and anger. They have let Fjord find his way to who he wants to be, offering advice or magical implements in times of need, but mostly just accompanying him on the journey with acceptance. They have coaxed Yasha out of her shell, helping her to remember and process the tragedies of her past, while showing her that she is not disposable by freeing her from physical and mental captivity, and refusing to blame her for actions she didn’t choose. They have brought Caduceus out into the world to see more of the Wildmother’s domain, and allowed him to consider that obligations are not always what we have been led to believe they are.

And Molly… oh, and Molly.

They never gave up on Molly. After he died, they honored his legacy while holding onto a spark of hope that he would rise again as he had once before. After the Tomb Takers brought Lucien back in all his selfish, egotistical glory, The Mighty Nein persisted in their belief that Mollymauk was still a part of him that could be brought forth and saved. They believed it so hard – and continued to ask for it in the midst of the Astral Sea, where dreams can be made manifest, and the gods are less restrained by the Divine Gate – that they made it true. They clung so tightly to their friend that they loved him back into existence like the Velveteen Rabbit. They entered the final fight in Cognouza with eight party members and came out with nine.

The Nonagon and the Somnovem wanted power. Wanted control over all of existence for a host of disparate reasons. And the Mighty Nein said, “No.”

Uk’otoa wanted freedom, to carry out its purpose of destruction and domination. The Mighty Nein said, “No.” Avantika wanted a fraction of that power granted by proximity and loyalty to the leviathan. And the Mighty Nein said, “No.”

Trent Ikithon wanted power – arcane, political, and personal. He wanted Bren back under his thumb. He wanted Essek under his control as a means of influencing the Kryn Dynasty, as well. The Mighty Nein severed the tendrils of his web one by one, saying over and over, “No.”

Whether they faced a single nergaliid, a small pack of regular gnolls, a complex community of pirates, a powerful hag, the governments of warring nations, or a hive-mind of ancient archmages inhabiting a living city, The Mighty Nein have rarely hesitated to stand up for what they knew to be right. And when faced with circumstances they knew to be wrong…

they…

said…

“No.”

Big no. Hard pass. A mighty “Nein!”

#Critical Role meta #The Mighty Nein #my darlings #trying so hard to do the right thing #Critical Role #season 2 #spoilers #long text post #queued

[vividxp]

I was scrolling the crspoilers tag on twitter and found a screenshot that someone posted of their talks question submission that asked if Matt felt a way that the group sidelined their revolutionary ideas as soon as they gained power.  

And my instant reaction was:

Hold on, ‘revolutionary ideas?! the M9?!’

Wait, ‘power?! The M9?!’

Now, I actually think the bare essence of the question is a valid and interesting one; Matt clearly had plans about the setting of Wildemount and there were opportunities for the characters to really get involved in its contentious politics. But I would not describe the M9′s ideas or actions throughout the campaign as ‘revolutionary’ in any sense of the word. In fact for the most part the M9 have actively avoided getting involved in things unless it concerned a person they cared about. Arguably, it wasn’t until this last arc where you started to see the M9 start to move in a different direction.

So, sure, I absolutely would love to know how Matt felt about how the players approached the setting. I would like to know if he had to change things up because he felt the players weren’t responding to or having fun with what he put out there.

I wonder if in retrospect, recognizing that the M9 was very focused on their in-group, Matt would have tried harder to try and give the M9 some stakes and investment in Wildemount that were more than just existential and universal (as the Eiselcross arc was).

I think the biggest issue for anyone who was hoping for a revolutionary turn for the M9 is that the vast majority of the characters appeared to be/were disconnected from the political realities of the Empire and Dynasty which were the highlight of the campaign. Jester and Fjord were from Menagerie Coast which was neutral territory. Even at the height of the war between the Empire and the Dynasty, Nicodranus didn’t take a side, so it was the place where the M9 could go and not be worried about the Empire or Dynasty getting involved in their business. Yasha is Xhorhassian but from outside the Kryn Dynasty and from a tribe she was alienated from at the beginning of the campaign. Molly and Caduceus are from Shady Creek Run and the Blooming Grove respectively, two areas that once again are outside of the Empire and the Dynasty.

Beau, Caleb and Veth were citizens of the Empire. But despite that, Caleb was basically a nonentity and for the most part he wanted to keep it that way. He had a few moments here and there, but it was only until after the war wound down that he was like ‘ok, it’s not enough for only me to escape the Cerberus Assembly’. (Which is fine, mind you, that’s called having a character arc).

Beau is the only character that I would describe as someone who gained power during the campaign. However, I felt that becoming an expositor made only made Beau more invested in shaking shit up politically not less. However early on in the campaign, what did being a member of the Cobalt Soul actually mean for her? The Cobalt Soul never gave her any missions but allowed her to be a free agent and report back anything interesting that she found. There were some moments with Dairon during the Xhorhas arc, but again it fell mostly on Dairon to do that work instead of Beau and there wasn’t really any follow up on the choice Beau made to help them infiltrate the Dynasty especially since Dairon didn’t really discover anything the M9 didn’t already know. There was so much potential there but very little opportunity when it came to Beau who IMO would have absolutely risen to the moment.

And finally, you have Mrs. Veth Brenatto. Here’s a flaming hot take for y’all: the investment and stakes that the M9 had in the politics of Wildemount for the campaign was mainly because of Veth. Take her away and the M9 would have probably been pirates and out of things for a whole lot longer. 

But even then, there were opportunities with Veth that were missed. For example, her whole entire backstory. The goblins who raided Felderwin during a harsh winter and killed her? Would that have happened if the Empire had treated goblins as actual citizens and not monsters to be eradicated? As Nott the Brave, it didn’t really matter that Yeza would have accepted her as a goblin, her home was still closed off to her because the Empire and the society at large would rather see her dead. 

Though mind you, despite all that backstory it was never really engaged with at all. And Veth’s antipathy towards goblins seemed to be treated as a unique, personal character flaw that came from nowhere. But that makes zero sense! It wasn’t like the goblins who killed her could have went to the market that winter. The Empire is a deeply racist society that systematically excluded goblins from society and violently suppressed them into the margins. We got to see how things were in the Dynasty were goblins were allowed to live freely and participate in society. The issue and moral of the story isn’t ‘well Veth has to realize that goblins aren’t all bad’ the issue is to realize that she was the casualty of a moral and political failure of the Empire. That her circumstance was the consequence of a society that makes sure that the only option a group has for survival is violence. Those dots could have been connected and there was potential for change if the issue was ever confronted directly, but alas. 

I have a lot more retrospective thoughts on the campaign, but long story short, I think that while you could argue that maybe the M9 were moving towards a more revolutionary direction and perhaps if the campaign kept going a little longer we could have seen it especially confronting a political institution like the Cerberus Assembly. But I definitely think the M9, for better or for worse, was very much a neutral party.

#critical role #the mighty nein #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #veth brenatto #meta

[peach-the-owl]

Anon from before with the amnesia request. You can do the normal (retrograde) amnesia if you'd prefer doing that ^^

Since I don’t feel confident enough in myself to do your previous suggestion we'll stick with this… I regret nothing! Time for some emotional torture!

*Sigh* I can never decide if I want to just summarize these or do mini stories/story building… Oh well

Memory Lose

Child of the Nein (Mighty Nein & Child!Reader)

Retrograde amnesia: The loss of existing, previously made memories. This type of amnesia tends to affect recently formed memories first. Older memories, such as memories from childhood, are usually affected more slowly. Causes include but aren’t limited to head injuries, lack of oxygen, stress and trauma

Jester

You open your eyes, staring at the bright blue sky. Did you fall asleep? No that doesn’t sound right, where were you, what happened? You rub your head, noticing it felt extremely sore, and stretch yourself out. You’re suddenly lifted into the air and pulled into a hug by a strange blue woman, now you weren’t one to deny a hug but you were a little worried your caretaker might not like the idea.

"I’m so happy you’re okay. Don’t scare me like that." The woman says. You look at her confused and after a moment she copies your expression. "(Y/n)? What’s wrong?"

"I didn’t mean to scare you miss, but how do you know my name? Who are you?" You ask, you don’t remember meeting her yet she knew who you were, strange. She looks at you with concern and gives a nervous sounding laugh.

"Don’t be silly (y/n), you know me." You just tilt your head at her genuinely confused. The woman’s smile drops completely as she reaches forward, her hand giving off a greenish glow and placing it on your head. Instinctually you close your eyes, the magic flowing through you helping relieve the soreness in your head. "How’s that?" She asks once she’s done her spell.

"The soreness is all gone! Thank you miss…" you trail off, still unsure of her name, but something did feel more familiar about her. This poor lady in front of you looked like she was about to cry, now you felt really bad for her. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad." You reach out for her and she responds by picking you up and holding you close to her, something about this felt really familiar and you wanted to know why. "It’s okay, mama. It’ll be okay." The words just slipped out so naturally, you didn’t even bother to argue it.

"That’s right! I am your mama. Don’t you worry, we'll fix this, I promise." She looks at you with hopeful eyes and you give her a small smile, surely there was a reason you were here, one you couldn’t remember but were willing to regain the memories of. With this lady, because she refused to tell you her name saying she wants you to remember it on your own, and her friends help you slowly start to place the missing pieces back together.

Nott

You snap your eyes open to unfamiliar terrain and immediately jump into a defensive stance. Darting your eyes this way and that, trying to figure out where you were and what was happening. A tall woman walks into the room and stares at you, was she a threat? She looked like a threat so you hiss at her, she responds with a confused look and approaches you. Panicked you pat yourself down, your hand landing on your dagger and you throw it at the woman with another loud hiss.

"Okay, okay, okay." She holds her arms up and backs out of the room, victory way yours, for now. You scurry around the room, looking for a way out or a place to hide, especially when you hear more commotion outside the doorway. You quickly duck into a corner and hide yourself from view, watching, waiting for whoever was outside to leave. Another figure enters the room, this one a lot shorter, they also had more goblin features so you hoped they weren’t as big a threat.

"(Y/n) I know you’re still in here, it’s okay to come out. We just want to know why you tried to attack Yasha." You cautiously step out of your hiding spot, looking very confused but still defensive. Who was (y/n)? Who was Yasha? Should you be concerned about this? The other goblin looks over at you about to say something but upon seeing your confusion, her smile drops and she looks at you with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Who-who are you talking about? I don’t know you." You found it strange how non-hostile this lady was, goblin or not people usually start pushing you around due to your smaller then average size, but not her, it was so strange yet somehow familiar. Her expression drops more after hearing your words and she takes a quick swig from her flask before sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to her for you. You still approach with caution, unsure if this was some sort of trap and sit down next to her.

"You do know me, I’m Nott and your name is (y/n), that’s the name I gave you anyway, we escaped together from a cruel clan of goblins." She starts, looking at you. You tilt your head at her, it sounded vaguely familiar to you so you nod and let her continue. "We’ve been traveling together for quite a while and made more friends then we could’ve imagined…" She continues on like this for a while, recalling different moments you’ve experienced together. The more you ran these moments in your head the more you were able to remember on your own. Not all the pieces came back right away but it was enough for you to trust her and meet with the rest of the group to help continue recovering the rest of your missing memories.

Caleb

You stretch and yawn, feeling sore in the head but maybe you just bumped it on the table again. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you look around and realize your not in your house, that’s odd you don’t remember leaving for a trip anywhere. There’s a purr coming from beside you making you look over at the pretty kitty staring at you, they looked familiar but you don’t remember meeting a cat like him before, but who were you to refuse cuddling a cute kitty. After a moment the cat wiggles out of your grip and walks across the room pausing at the door and looking at you as if waiting for you to follow. Curious as ever you decide to follow them, there was just something about this cat that you trusted, letting it lead you around until they stop in front of a man who was deeply invested in a book. You pick up the cat and tug the mans coat, when he doesn’t budge you tug a little harder.

"Excuse me mister, is this your kitty?" You ask, giving the cat gentle pats on the head. He looks up from his book and over at you, first he looks confused then it turns to relief before shifting into concern. You tilt your head slightly at this. "Is something wrong mister?"

"Do you not recognize me?" He’s voice was quiet and full of worry. You shake your head and place the cat on the ground who walks up to the man and begins to purr and rub against him. He picks up the cat and looks deep in thought for a moment. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"Oh! Ummm, my mama and papa were getting ready to meet a guest for the night and they told me to go play in my room so I wouldn’t break something by accident. But now I’m here." You explain, then a thought comes to mind. "Wait, are you the person my mama and papa are supposed to meet?" He stares at you a moment before going deep into thought again.

"(Y/n), that memory of yours was over 5 years ago," he starts, sounding as calm as possible. You look at him confused, how could that have been so long ago when it only felt like it happened yesterday. "You’ve been traveling with me ever since then. Not long ago we were ambushed, you’d gotten yourself injured as a result, I see now there was more damage to you then what we first thought. I didn't… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you." He continues, kneeling down and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, a look of guilt and shame on his face by the end. You didn’t want it to be true but there was something you couldn’t quite shake, that deep down you knew he was telling you the truth. You reach forward and try to comfort him by wrapping your arms around him in a hug, it seems to help a little as he returns the gesture.

"Maybe I don’t remember what you’re talking about, but I trust you." He brightens up a little more at your words. "So what happens now?" You question.

"Now," he stands up and offers you his hand. "We can work together to bring your memories back, if you’d like. Be aware it will take some time." It was more of an offer then anything but you give him another smile and a nod as you place your hand in his. It took some time a patience, but you manage to regain your memories back, even a few you had well forgotten about long ago.

Caduceus

Your head was pounding even before you opened your eyes, have a look around you knew you weren’t in your room or at home for that matter. Slowly you get up and have a better look around, trying to orientate where you were and what was happening. Soon enough you hear a door opening and look over at the firbolg that entered the room, he didn’t look like anyone from your family and yet he reminded you of your father, strange.

"I’m so glad to you’re awake. You really had me worried." He pauses a second and takes a good look at you, his relief turning to worry. "Are you okay? You don’t… you look like you don’t know who I am."

"Well, umm, you do have something familiar about you, I just don’t know what it is right now. I’m sorry." You lower your head sadly. Why was he so familiar? Did something happen and you'd forgotten about it?

"There’s no need to be sorry." He shushes you calmly, kneeling down and placing a hand on your head, you wince a little from the pain but it quickly disappears thanks to his healing magic, slowly you look up at him again. "What happened to cause your memory lose isn’t your fault, none of use could’ve known this would be the outcome." So it was memory loss. It was a bit difficult to wrap your head around but your mother always told you to trust in your instincts and let nature guide the way and you certainly felt a strong sense of trust from him.

"Can, umm… is there a way to fix it?" You give him a curious look. He smiles at you kindly, giving a gentle pat on your arm.

"I don't have means to give your memories back right away, but if your willing to give it time and patience they should be able to return on their own." He explains to you.

"What if I don’t like it? What I remember I mean." You ask, quickly adding the last part so it’d, hopefully make more sense.

"I couldn’t say for sure. I don’t know everything you’ve seen before we met, but I do know we share a lot of good memories together." You could tell he was being genuine with you but not saying everything, maybe as a way to encourage you to regain the missing memories, who knew. You think it over a bit before finally agreeing, there was a reason you were here instead of home with your family, a reason you might not like but learning the truth would be better then living in the unknown, and no matter how painful it might be you had someone to help you through it.

Fjord

The first thing you notice when you gain consciousness is the splitting pain in your head, you could smell the blood and place a hand over the wound wincing. The second thing you notice is the lack of sound, no waves crashing or ship bells tolling to set sail. Finally when you open your eyes you find yourself laying on your side in some grass, you try to survey your surroundings but the pain was preventing you from thinking clearly so you instead roll on your back with a groan.

"(Y/n)!" You vaguely recognize the voice calling you but can’t pinpoint it, soon a half-orc comes into view. "You’re bleeding, here let’s take care of that wound." He lifts you up into his arms without another word and carries you over to two other strangers who help patch up the wound on your head. Something wasn’t adding up to you how did these people know who you were if you didn’t know them? It was strange yet you also felt like you knew them. Maybe that wound had something to do with this? You just weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to cause any concern with these people so you figured you’ll try to solve this mystery on your own. While you were able to start putting a few of the missing pieces together, your charade didn’t last long, as much as you played off everything as normal, after a day everyone was catching on that something wasn’t quite right.

"You sure you’re feeling well (y/n)? You don’t seem quite like yourself." You look over at the half-orc as he approaches you, you hadn’t quite gotten everyone’s names yet.

"I'm uhhh, yeah. I'm fine, F-Fjord?" You we’re trying so hard to sound confident but you slipped and it came out more as a question. No surprise he picks up on this and gives you an odd look before he lets out a sigh and kneels down to match your height.

"I thought we worked on this stubbornness of yours and you’d be more honest with me about your problems." He says matter-of-factly, you slightly turn away from him with a nervous scratch at your arm.

"I… I don't know what your talking about." He gives you another look like he didn’t believe you. "No, I mean it, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t remember much of anything. I didn’t want to bother anyone so I’ve been trying to figure things out by myself but it hasn’t done a lot." You admit sheepishly, feeling guilty now for not saying something earlier.

"You don’t remember…" He trails off, taking in a breath. "Well, you’ve been very brave to go so far on your own, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here to help you, and I want to help you so don’t think I’ll take no for an answer." He puts on a confident face for you and as embarrassed as you were about hiding it before you can’t help but give him a smile and nod.

Beau

There was a ringing in your ears like voices in your head as you take in a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Where were you, and why were you wearing such a odd outfit, surely your parents didn’t approve of this, although try as you might you never could impress them. You shake your head, that was right they sent you away because they wanted to "help" your behaviour, but you don’t remember changing or being out in the middle of nowhere.

"Hey, you doing alright? You were hit pretty hard." The ringing stops as you turn to see a woman standing over you, her expression looking disinterested but her eyes held worry. Getting a good look at her you could see she was wearing an outfit similar to yours, making you realize that you were in fact sporting attire from the Cobalt Soul. This just gave you more questions then answers.

"I feel fine, mostly, but… you said I got hit?" This was awful, you hated being left clueless and if your sudden theory was correct you were missing more to this picture then you’d like.

"Yeah… do you not remember that?" She stared at you with growing concern. You rub your head with a groan, guess that answers that question.

"No, I don’t, and there’s probably a bunch of other things I can’t recall." You say more annoyed then anything. The woman raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing, waiting for you to explain. "You talk like we know each other but I can't remember who you are. I should be panicking over talking to a stranger, but at the same time I feel like I should know you and it’s bothering me." You explain as best you can. She stares blankly at you for a moment, letting your words sink in.

"You do always hate being left in the dark." She mutters more to herself. "Alright, well…" she trails off a bit and lets out a sigh. "I don’t really know what to say or do about this, the best I can suggest is getting Jester or Caduceus to look at you and see if they can fix it. If not then I guess all we can do is hope your memories come back on their own." For as calm as she sounded you could see genuine worry and even a bit of fear in her eyes.

"Hope?" You cross your arms and give her a determined look. "You say that as if there’s a chance I’m not going to remember, and if you really know me you should know I don’t give up until I find my answers." The comers of her mouth slowly curve into a smile at this and she lets out a soft chuckle, walking up to you and giving you a pat on the back. The two of you proceed to strut your way over to the others to fill them in on your situation and get started on brining your memories back.

Yasha

You open your eyes and instantly something feels off, you can’t quite place what it is but it just feels off. You stretch and yawn while trying to figure out what felt so off. Lets see the last thing you can remember was practice for… that’s it! Wasn’t your trial today? You get up quickly, this ritual was too important to the tribe to be late. You hurry down some stairs, thinking little of your different surroundings and step outside, taking in the fresh open air. No one else from the tribe was around, maybe you woke up earlier then you thought, you survey your surroundings just to be sure you weren’t missing anything when a someone approaches you. The woman in question didn’t look to be from your tribe but there was something very familiar about her you couldn’t quite place. Before you can say anything the woman wraps her arms around you and pulls you into an embrace.

"I was so worried, they attacked from nowhere… there was so much blood… I-I-I'm just happy you’re alright." Her voice quivered a little, you couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. An attack? You don’t remember the tribe being attacked. But she sounded to genuine it was hard not to believe her, like there was a fuzzy memory in the back of your mind to confirm it.

"Umm, thank you for the concern but…" You trail off a little, she pulls away and looks at you confused and worried, you felt bad but you had to ask. "I uhhh, I don’t mean to be rude miss, but can you tell me where I am and who you are?" Her expression drops more and she looks away slightly, you can see the tears running down her face as she takes several deep breaths.

"It’s me, Yasha. I-I’ve been taking care of you for… well for a long time now. Don’t you remember me?" She sounded so heartbroken, you can’t help but give her another hug which she returns.

"I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember." You say quietly, her grip tightens a little and you swear you can hear soft sobs coming from her. "Maybe… maybe that's why things don’t feel right… but you are familiar. I can’t really say why but I feel like I know you." You continue. She pulls away enough to look you in the eyes, a glimmer of hope sparkling in them.

"I could help you get them back. We have some friends that are really good at this kind of thing. They can help." She suggests, gently placing a hand on you cheek, you lean into her touch and give a small nod. It was clear now that things weren’t quite as you originally thought but you were willing regain everything you’d lost and move forward to a new future, your new destiny.

Molly

Everything hurt and you sigh, had you done something to anger Ms. Wolona again? You really hoped not. Sitting up you’re in for a shock when you don’t recognize anything around you. A lavender tiefling walks into the room, and there’s this feeling of familiarity about him you can’t quite place, you don’t remember meeting him, yet you couldn’t shake the thought that you knew him somehow. He looks relived to see you but his expression drops slightly at your confusion.

"You look surprised to see me, I know I’m always quite the looker but you know me." He says nonchalantly, you caught a slight hint of concern in his voice. You weren’t sure what to say or do, you’ve been told countless times not to talk to strangers otherwise punishment wouldn’t be far. Apparently your silence doesn’t sit well with the tiefling, his brows furrowing at you. "Come now (y/n), this isn’t the time for games." His tone was lower and more serious now, and he slow reaches a hand out towards you. You start to panic, knowing whenever you upset someone Ms. Wolona would have to punish you for bad behaviour.

"Imsorryimsorryimsorry! Please don’t hurt me, I promise I’ll be good." You sputter out, throwing your arms over your head and cowering. It gets deafeningly quiet for a moment as you wait for something to happen. The only sound in the room being your beep breathes, wait… no those weren’t your breaths you were hearing. Slowly, cautiously you lift your head slightly and see the staring wide eyed at you, looking just as, if not more so panicked they you.

"No nonononon, not you, not you." You hear him faintly mutter. Before you can wonder what he was talking about he’s out of the room, shouting something down the hall. Now you were really confused but also filled with fear, was he getting Ms. Wolona? After what feels like forever you get an unexpected answer when a different tiefling enters the room, she offers a friendly smile.

"Hi, do you remember me?" She asks. You just shake your head, she lets out a saddened sigh. "Well, would you like to?" Magic sparks to life in her hands and you flinch away. "I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I want to help you." You stare at her for a moment before you give a slow nod. One part of you was telling you that doing this would get you in a lot of trouble, but another part of you felt like you could trust this, thinking about it after all that first tiefling you met looked so familiar and before he’d run out you could see the pain and fear in his eyes for you. As scared as you felt, you wanted to make it better, so with a deep breath you hesitantly reach forward…

#critical role #critical role & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #mighty nein & reader #jester lavorre #jester & reader #nott the brave #nott & reader #caleb widogast #caleb & reader #caduceus clay #caduceus & reader #fjord #fjord stone #fjord & reader #beauregard lionett #beauregard & reader #yasha nydoorin #yasha & reader #mollymauk tealeaf #mollymauk & reader #nothing romantic here

[exmortia]

Shadowgast soulmate ficlet: Found Familiars

Essek/Caleb soulmate AU where a wizard’s familiar manifests from a fragment of their soul, but if they have a soulmate, the familiar comes from their soulmate’s soul instead. Regular D&D familiar mechanics don’t apply here except for pocket dimension poofing and un-poofing. Rated T for someone almost dying.

Like every student at the Soltryce Academy, the time finally comes when Bren learns how to summon a familiar.

It’s a week-long elective course he wasn’t planning on taking yet, preferring to focus his current semester on the fundamentals of magic, but Eadwulf is the first of their friend group to enroll, and he walks into the dorms next week with a raven perched on his shoulder. It becomes a nearly permanent addition to his friend, large and jet-black, with a deceptively strong beak and eyes filled with confidence and intelligence. Eadwulf spends the next few days answering the same standard question from their peers and teachers - “no, it’s mine.”

Astrid borrows Eadwulf’s notes on the spell and summons her own familiar not long after, a razor-eyed falcon that never stops scanning their surroundings and quietly observing anyone within range. Bren is only a little disappointed when she says “it’s mine, I can tell.” He knows, like everyone else, that soulmates are rare.

Soon it’s his turn, and his friends are making good-natured jokes about what form his familiar will take. They’re hoping for another bird just for the irony of it. “Maybe an owl,” Astrid says with a smile. They make bets. Eadwulf puts ten silver on a songbird, and Astrid puts twenty on a bird of prey.

Bren performs the ritual that night in the privacy of his room. As the incense drifts into the air, he secretly hopes for a feline companion, like the one he knew in childhood. Something soft and warm, curled up in his lap and welcoming him back to his room after a long day of classes. He keeps his eyes closed until the spell completes. 

When he looks down, there’s an unexpected shape on his desk, like a scarf dropped lengthwise into a pile. Then it begins to move, glinting with iridescent color in the candlelight as its body slides and shifts on itself, and then he recognizes the creature when a rounded head emerges, tongue flicking out to taste the air in his direction. 

“A snake?” he whispers to himself, confused and disappointed. Where he’d hoped for fur (or even feathers in retrospect), he sees shiny black scales like an inkspill across his desk where the light doesn’t hit. There are no emotions in its tapered face and round, lidless eyes. When the initial shock wears off, he takes a moment to focus and reach for his connection with it, hoping that what he finds is a reflection of himself, just like what his friends have, but what greets him is a feeling so new and foreign that he can’t lie to himself anymore.

Bren dismisses the familiar in a moment of panicked shame. He spends the night agonizing over what he’ll say to his friends and what their reactions will be. “It’s not mine,” he whispers to himself, dreading the moment when he’ll say it to them in person tomorrow. “I don’t know whose it is, but it isn’t mine.”

“You have a soulmate,” Astrid will say with a small, tight smile, the words neutral on the surface, but there’s a guarded expression in her eyes. Bren can only nod in reply, feeling like he’s wronged her somehow, as Eadwulf inspects the coiled snake presented to them in Bren’s outstretched hands.

“I’m sure it will come in handy,” he declares, trying to soothe Bren’s worries the only way he knows how. Astrid agrees, and the tension passes as they walk to their first class of the day. Bren considers dismissing his familiar again, but then he looks longingly at the companions perched on his friends and carefully tucks the serpent into the neck of his shirt beneath his robe. Its cool weight settles across his shoulders, the movement a slow, shifting pressure that feels good in the summer heat and even better when he’s working through a difficult assignment later.

Bren doesn’t find out until a few weeks later that his familiar is dangerous. An altercation with another classmate leads to him being shoved against a wall, the other boy’s grip twisted into the front of his robe with one hand while the other pulls back for a swing at Bren’s face, and suddenly there’s a blur of motion and the boy is stumbling back with a pair of tiny red dots on his chin. He almost dies right there on the floor, lips blue and foaming at the mouth, before one of the professors is drawn to the shouting of gathered students. Bren is instructed, under threat of expulsion, to keep his familiar dismissed while in the presence of others.

Ten years ago and hundreds of miles away, Essek Thelyss stands in his laboratory, blinking incredulously at the small, furry creature that has manifested in front of him. The trouble with being a wizard of a long-lived race who can’t summon a familiar is that you don’t know whether your soulmate has already died or just hasn’t been born yet. Essek didn’t think he needed a familiar, particularly, but he’d gotten into the habit of trying the spell once every few years when he remembered, partly because it stung to be an accomplished wizard who couldn’t summon one, and also because he secretly hoped that his soulmate, the one chosen for him by The Weave itself, had not already departed this world.

He’d lost count of the attempts, but it was somewhere between twenty and twenty-three when the spell finally worked, much to his surprise. His new familiar, with its striped orange fur and long tail curled neatly around its legs, sat on his ritual table and looked back at him with eyes that glinted in the low, ambient light. ‘My soulmate is alive out there,’ Essek thought with a relief he would never admit to, reaching out to stroke the cat’s soft fur as it stretched and began exploring the table, then his workbench, and then anywhere it could possibly get into.

In his youth, Essek had hoped for a more suitable familiar - something that could blend in, yet contribute to his image as a formidable spellcaster, like a snake or a spider, but he’d grown accustomed to not having one. His new feline companion becomes a sort of household pet. It’s not physically affectionate beyond the occasional rub against his legs. Mostly, it prefers to sit elsewhere in the room and watch him work from a distance. When he trances, it patrolls the halls and kills any small, unfortunate animal that dares enter his home. He wonders about the sort of person his soulmate might be, to have their soul reflected in this mindful, intelligent, and often ruthless creature.

One night, a little over ten years after he first summoned his familiar, Essek returns from his work at the Lucid Bastion and begins going about his routine, only to find that his familiar is nowhere to be found. He wonders if something has happened to make it decorporealize, like accidentally toppling a heavy object onto itself (unlikely), or maybe it had gotten outside somehow and didn’t care to return yet (a common recurring event). His familiar had changed over the past few months, becoming even more standoffish and less receptive to physical touch than before, so Essek doesn’t worry about its absence until the following day, when his familiar is still nowhere to be found. Before using his components to repeat the summoning ritual, he decides to make a quick search of his tower, and there, crouched in the furthest corner beneath a display cabinet in an unused room, his familiar stares back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. 

When Essek reaches for his companion, its sudden, piercing, feline scream sends him pitching backwards in shock, until he’s on the floor and his familiar has left behind a series of long scratch marks where it fled. Essek is shaken for the few moments he sits there, confused, and then later, deeply concerned for someone he’s never met before. 

This state of mind becomes normal for Essek over the next eleven years. His familiar is a ghost, hiding and wedging itself under furniture and bursting from its hiding spot in a terrified, screaming bolt of fur and claws when Essek unknowingly gets too close. Sometimes he goes weeks without catching sight of it, but Essek finds himself too sentimental to dismiss his former companion. He fears for the source of his familiar’s soul fragment, whoever this person is, and whatever it was that must have happened to them to cause this.

Hundreds of miles away and a few months later, Bren, now Caleb, accepts a torn-off piece of stolen bread from his new goblin companion, and hundreds of miles away, Essek’s familiar creeps out from beneath the workbench in his lab and slinks out of the room, but not before making brief eye contact with Essek, who stares back in disbelief with a set of alchemical reagents forgotten in his hands. 

A few weeks later, after being roughed up and chased out of town again, Caleb remembers his silent protector from his school days, and Nott watches with fascination as a black snake appears in Caleb’s hands with a snap of his fingers. Nott’s fascination turns to concern as he spends a long moment staring at it, drowning in the memory of those days at the academy before he and his friends caught Trent Ikithon’s eye. Later that evening, Nott asks to hold his familiar, and Caleb worries for a moment, but it allows itself to be handed over, and Nott must constantly adjust her grip as its body moves and slips between her fingers. 

“I think he prefers his master,” she says kindly, and although Caleb hadn’t cared to gender his familiar, the pronoun rings true somehow. Caleb accepts the snake from her and tucks it back into the neck of his coat where its cool, comforting weight helps quiet his intrusive thoughts.

It takes a few more months before Essek can run his fingers through his familiar’s striped fur again. Progress has been slow, but steady, and Essek is relieved not just for his familiar, but for the unnamed soul attached to it. 

Things eventually return to the way they were before, and then continue to change. His familiar becomes his shadow, dutifully following him into every room of his tower. Where before it would perch out of arm’s reach to watch him work, now it walks across the paperwork on his desk and jumps into his lap and demands attention, before it’ll curl up and allow him to keep working. It’s an adjustment compared to what he’s used to, but there’s a weight lifted from his shoulders when he thinks about his soulmate now. At least, most of the time. His familiar refuses to leave his home and still vanishes for hours when he gets visitors, even when they remain on his doorstep and converse with him briefly through the open door.

The day comes when a group of strangers walk into the Lucid Bastion. Even among the chaos that follows, Essek’s attention is drawn, inexplicably, to one of their group - a surprisingly well-spoken human with copper-colored hair and pink, freckled skin, covered in mud and Luxon knows what else. 

Caleb, dressed in nothing but leather straps, had dismissed his snake familiar out of necessity back in Asarius. When the situation in the Bright Queen’s throne room eventually dies down, his attention is drawn to a figure sitting near the dias, imposing in equal measure to the other high-ranking drow around them, but something about this individual catches his attention and keeps it indefinitely. 

Later, when he and the Nein are free to wander Rosohna, Caleb decides not to risk going about with his venomous, spring-coiled companion for now, just in case there’s a misunderstanding with the locals or the guards. 

Essek has his work cut out for him, and these new people don’t stay strangers for long. Despite his frustration at their behavior (often disrespectful and almost always culturally inappropriate), he finds himself responding eagerly to their requests for help when needed. When he sees them, his attention is always drawn first to their wizard, Caleb Widogast, and when he teaches Caleb that first dunamantic spell, it’s a challenge to monitor Caleb’s attention to the correct page of Essek’s spellbook, rather than Caleb himself. Everything about this human man, from the way he murmurs to himself while he works, to how he wrings his hands together during tense conversations, to the purely unexpected talent and raw power in the spells he demonstrates, has captivated Essek over the time he’s spent with these newcomers.

Caleb quietly scolds himself whenever the Shadowhand catches him staring. He’s not accustomed to being around dark elves, and even after the novelty wears off, something about their assigned handler, his new and unexpectedly generous teacher in the dunamantic arts, is drawing his attention and thoughts like an arcane compulsion. Caleb carefully keeps this to himself, not wanting to jeopardize their tenuous position in Roshona or the Shadowhand’s willingness to share his knowledge.

Eventually, as the weeks pass and their relationship with Essek grows out of familiarity and Jester’s brute force method of making friends, the Nein are invited to the Shadowhand’s tower for breakfast and the promise of some collaborative spellwork.

Caleb is regrettably late to the event as he makes a detour to find spell supplies, not wanting to impose on their host any more than necessary. When he arrives, there’s an awkward, semi-private moment where Essek answers the door and greets him. Then he’s led further inside where the others are gathered around a large table, and there’s a weird sort of prickling in the back of his mind as he enters the room. Fjord and Beau are talking and leaning against the table while the others are seated in a small group on the opposite side, except for Jester who is kneeling on the floor and talking to someone or something in a high-pitched voice.

A moment later, Jester makes a sad sound and watches Essek’s familiar slip out from under her hands to go trotting across the floor towards its master, or so she thinks. The cat’s gait breaks into a run, and she gasps as Caleb suddenly falls to his knees, his expression that of a mother who’s been searching all day for their missing child as the cat jumps into his arms. Essek’s familiar must be super friendly with other wizards, she thinks, until she sees the startled look on their host’s face. ‘This is the first time in many years that my familiar has not hidden itself from visitors,’ she remembers him saying as they arrived at the tower, and then he coaxed the cat towards them after she asked if she could pet it, which it accepted with mild, friendly interest. Now Caleb is clutching at its orange striped fur as it rubs against his face over and over again, purring loud enough for everyone to hear, and she’s not sure, but it looks like he might be crying a little.

Caleb carefully stands with the cat cradled in one arm, its outstretched paws making biscuits in the air. He reaches out towards Essek, and there’s a small flash of arcane magic before Caleb’s serpentine familiar appears there, balanced in a tight knot of coils in his upturned hand. Essek stares at it, motionless, until the snake begins to move, its body quickly sliding away from its master and into the space between Essek and Caleb, apparently not caring if it falls before it’s caught. 

Essek reaches out with both hands to meet the snake’s trajectory, and soon the familiar is wrapped around Essek’s forearm, coiled tightly in place like a permanent fixture. Essek lifts his arm and stares into its eyes, carefully running his fingers across the black, iridescent scales with a gentle reverence.

“He’s yours,” Caleb chokes out in joyful tears, knowing but not caring that his friends are watching with a combination of amusement and concerned looks. “I always wondered, but I never dared hope . . .” Caleb clears his throat as Essek stares at him, the drow’s expression hard to read. “He, uh, likes to be up high, around your neck, where he can, um . . . he’s v-venomous by the way. I had to learn that. From experience. But he is a good snake, a very good snake,” Caleb insists as more tears threaten to wet his face. In Caleb’s arms, his new familiar trills and then purrs louder, satisfied, when he bends down to nuzzle his face into its wonderful, beautiful orange fur.

Essek makes a quick decision not to ask about what happened to his feline familiar over that eleven-year period. Maybe later when they’re comfortable and alone. For now, he admires his snake companion, the subtle magical thread of connection between master and familiar already transitioned, painlessly, from old to new. He feels whole and complete, and not just from finding his true familiar. Essek’s affection is quiet and immeasurable as he meets Caleb’s overjoyed grin with his own soft smile.

“Thank you for this,” is all Essek can say without his voice breaking. Later, after Caleb’s friends have staged a friendly interrogation about what happened and what it means for two wizards to exchange familiars (and after he’s taken Caleb’s advice and tucked his new companion into the neck of his robe where it fits perfectly), he’ll take Caleb upstairs, his former familiar dutifully following its new master, and spend a few hours alone with his soulmate. At the end of trading stories about their lives and hardships and hopes for the future, he’ll hold the human’s face in his hands and take the first step towards sealing their bond with a kiss.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #critical role fanfiction #can't watch the new episode until later tonight so I wrote this instead #non-wizards could probably gain a familiar this way #I've got another ficlet idea too hmmm