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thequeenofmyownscreen · 10 months

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Thirty-five things I noted about CR2E141 “Fond Farewells” :

SEVEN. HOURS. LONG. EPISODE.

Ok, fair. The Mighty Nein did deserve that.

Veth multi-classed ! She has one level in wizard !! I love it !!

Oh yeah Essek kinda abandoned his post up in Aeor, huh... what will he do

Caleb : "Thank you, Jester." Jester : "For what ?" Caleb : "Oh, the last couple years... Thank you for being such a good friend."

Jester, to Fjord who is nearly asleep : "Hey, Fjord ? ... I love you. (panicked) Don't say anything ! I'm just going to bury my head in his arms." Fjord, befuddled : "What ??" Jester, regretting everything : "Don't say it, just shut up, go to sleep !"

I will miss Jester's Sendings

Ah, an insight check against a PC, this truly feels like early CR2 episodes !

Ah, there he is. The Irish-accent bastard of a purple tiefling. Kingsley. A person different from Mollymauk, for sure, but still with the accent, the attitude (kinda), and the immediate attraction to Caleb 'magic man' Widowgast.

THE PARENT TRAP WORK ! LOVE IS REAL ! JESTER'S MOM HAS GOT IT GOIN ON !

oh yeah that's right, the Mighty Nein left Aeor : with a robot whose plan was to wake others up, and with a functioning inter-planar portal that seemed to pass right through the Divine Gate (according to Matt's description of their return). I'm sure this is fine

THE BITCH IS HERE - and by 'the bitch' (NOT affectionate) I mean Trent

immediate Sam reaction : "I just got my family here" oh my god is it cruel of me that I kinda laughed, thinking it may very well go like the Fire Plane all over again ?

I'm excited to see what plan Caleb, Beau and Veth had obviously been cooking in the eventuality of Trent Ikithon, because they seem to have a very clear intent

Yes !!!! CHAINED COUNTERSPELL HERE WE GO I love it.

Eodwulf attacked Caleb, and the words exchange had kind of a sexy undertone to them ! I support Liam when he said "Is it hot in here ? or..." just after that. Even Fjord going up to Eadwulf and attacking him right after had some powerful homoeroticism, really enjoyed it

I love Travis' expression of "he's double-bagging it" about Trent having at least 2 shields of invulnerability cast around him, because I now pictured Trent with 2 bags over his head, like he was hostage

oh, I'm sad Laura missed Matt's 'you both have him cornered right there' about Eaodwulf, Caleb and Fjord. She would have snickered like I have snickered !

The Veth and Beau plan was incredible. It has multiples steps, it took a little bit of time (two rounds) but man, the visuals !!!!! Beau pulling out the collar, Veth and Beau hiding behind a tree, Veth gluing the collar, Beau escalading a tree while Veth was pulling out the magic fan, Beau jumping in the air towards Trent and ALMOST MISSING... if it weren’t for the fan !! Like Travis said last episode, I want to see this shit animated, and I will, because the world is good actually.

Oh man, Trent's end... Liam was crying and so did I, when Sam once again flexed his "I'm going to make a simple action so moving you will cry" muscles

How beautiful that Astrid was the one to do it, and help Caleb silence Trent forever

Caleb, to Trent : "You know, for the longest time, I thought this would be impossible. But I still dreamed about it, of taking your life. But death is too good for you. You are to be exposed, humbled, and brought low. Settle into that idea."

Oh, I'm so glad I've seen Beau and Caleb appear in Campaign 3, still fighting and trying to stop Ludinus' plans, because when Beau said this will take time, she was right : this will be a horribly long road for then, and the Cerberus Assembly's machination would prove to run deeper than they, right here in the Blooming Grove, know... But they're still here fighting the good fight !

Awwwwww Fjord said "I love you too" !!! Under the rain he created, like the romantic that he is !!

Caduceus is pissed. Using magic to force empathy on Trent is COLD. Love that Matt basically said "this man can feel no empathy and no magic can make him that's how rotten he is"

Astrid and Eodwulf came back ! They're helping for Trent's case (but not naming the other mages at the Assembly... maybe that's why, decades later, Beau and Caleb are still pursuing Ludinus).

From Caduceus' goodbyes to the end, just imagine me crying the whole time.

Essek : "What have you done ?... This world was so much easier when it was black and white." Beau : "But it's so much more beautiful in all the shades of colors."

Kingsley heard the Mighty Nein had a ship and immediately wants to be a pirate, I love him

ARE YOU KIDDING ME IS THIS THE SIPHYLIS BANDITS ????!!

Oh shit ! Ludinus offered a position within the Cerberus Assembly to Caleb, who respectfully declined (the power !!)

Vandren ! at last

Beau : "Are you wanting to be my housewife, Yasha ?" Yasha : "I mean... I think I would look pretty good in an apron." Beau : "I think you would look fantastic in an apron, especially if you weren't wearing anything under it."

Caleb's time-travel plan was pretty tight. He must have seen hundred of episodes of Doctor Who to avoid time paradoxes and such. But what a powerful image that he ultimately chose to destroy the thing he wanted most at the beginning of the campaign : "I drag some dust up my arm, and disintegrate everything in the room, and burn what's left."

THARIZDUN ??!! (me like the Beyonce ??!! meme)

"A tale of seven friends, who became eight, then nine."

Liam : "Thanks for a good story, Matt." Sam : "It was pretty good." Travis : "Let's do it again." (the callback the callback from Campaign 1 finale ok i'm gonna go cry for 3 hours now goodbye)

#my thoughts #critical role #cr campaign 2 #CR2E141 #it's done #i feel empty #I'm gonna go cry #but not before I reblog a bunch of things !

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essekknits · 2 years

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Caleb Widogast isn’t a man of faith. He left religion behind long ago. He left it in a cold, dark tower, burning it for warmth as he huddled close with his lovers. He left it in a cold lab full of green crystal shards. He left it in the ashes of a small farm home, in a musty cell in an asylum.

He never expected to find faith until he met the Mighty Nein.

He found faith in Nott’s small body cuddled to his, in the devotion with which she cared for him. Coming back to consciousness with her hovering over him, her back covered in wounds where she shielded his unconscious form. Hugging her tight as she managed her first spell, grinning happily and feeling joy purer than he felt since he lost everything. Watching the ferociousness with which Veth searched for her husband, for her son, for her body.

He found faith in a slap on the face and a kiss on the forehead, in Mollymauk’s bright, deliberate kindness and sharpness and twisting stories. In the way he reached to douse the flames first, before drawing Caleb out of the screams his mind conjured. In his unashamed self-ness, the way in which he was himself and himself only, even when someone else’s past loomed over him, trying to swallow him whole.

He found faith in Beau’s righteous fury. In the rough, jagged edges of distrust that she put up as a shield against those who would try to subdue her or use her. He found it in the way this righteous fury was turned not on him, as he expected, but on the man who set him on the cursed path from which he could not escape. She looked at him as he confessed his crimes, and worked to convince him that the blame lies elsewhere. She stood before him, trying to be a barrier between him and those who hurt him before.

He found faith in Jester’s sweet, bright chaos. He found devotion and love in her eyes as she viewed the world beyond the walls of her home for the first time. He found faith in her unconditional love, in her childish jokes, in her viciousness against those who displeased her, and in the way she always tried to make them all smile. Following a god was nebulous and distant, but Jester? Jester he could follow without question.

He found faith with a longsword against his cheek. He found faith confiding in Yasha quietly, in the early hours of the morning. In giving her a small part of himself and getting one in return. In the trust he could put in her, knowing she wouldn’t betray it. In the hole her kidnapping left in his heart, nagging at him that there’s one missing. In the quiet, heartbreaking understanding as he watched her goad an enemy, watched her pummelled to the ground, seeking pain and harm in an attempt to atone.

He found faith in a bloodied handshake at the bottom of the ocean, a blood pact with a man who months earlier held a sword to his throat. In the smooth talker who talked common sense into their friend group, whose curiosity so often got the better of him. Fjord’s way of assimilating, of becoming what others needed him to be, and in the way he slowly became the man he always was. In she slow opening and removing of masks.

He found faith in Caduceus’ quiet faith. Not only his faith in the Wildmother, as steadfast and solid as the root of a mountain, but his faith in them. He found it in the man who left the only world he knew on a feeling and the will to help a group of lost, grieving travellers. In one who always knew what was on their mind, in the way he would try to soothe them and help them see truth clearly. He was always confident, and not always right, but he tried to help. To make them better.

He found faith in Essek’s redemption. In the face of a broken man who make horrible mistakes like him. Essek had venom in his veins and blood on his hands but Caleb found faith still. Because he looked at this man and couldn’t find it in himself to condemn him the same way he condemned himself. He didn’t find faith in him as much as he forged it, in deliberate choice and care. And he was rewarded, looking into those same eyes some time later and finding faith shining in them as well, looking to them all like guiding stars.

And as the years passed, Caleb Widogast found faith in himself. He found it in the eyes of a student looking up to him for help or for comfort. He found it in the laughter he drew from his friends and their children, with magic and jokes and his presence. He found it in the way Astrid and Eadwulf looked at him, in the way they managed to flourish and bloom once they were free from their old master’s shade. He found it in the change he has caused.

This last faith was the easiest to lose, when times got hard and his demons came howling, but when it happened he had all those other faiths to fall back on.

Caleb Widogast never again believed in any god, but he followed his friends with the devotion of the most loyal of clerics. Their names were prayers on his lips, their love its own kind of magic.

He needed nothing more.

#critical role #the mighty nein #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #nott the brave #veth brenatto #mollymauk tealeaf #jester lavorre #cr fjord #caduceus clay #yasha nydoorin

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tarydarrington · 3 years

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Caleb closes his eyes one last time, and wakes up somewhere golden.

The house is just as he remembers it. He runs his fingers over his covers, the wood of the doorframe, the splinters peeling from the walls in the stairway, heart in his mouth. And when he comes to the sitting room, there they are.

He doesn’t make it across the room before dissolving into sobs that wrack him from head to toe and dropping to his knees in the middle of the floor, but they close the rest of the gap themselves. They stay there for what might be an hour or what might be a year, arms around each other, tears flowing freely. When at last they break apart, he tells them everything - and despite it all, they forgive him.

Time passes strangely here, a series of flashes and moments and feelings, like watching a bird fly past through a bright, clouded window. Sometimes he is five years old, and his parents will dangle him between them, all three of them laughing. Sometimes he is thirteen, flicking flame between his fingers as though he has only just learned, basking in the pride on his parents’ faces. Sometimes he is thirty-three, sitting across a card table from Fjord or against a tree with a pair of books with Beauregard. Always, coming and going, there are cats.

The rest of them trickle in one by one, years or days or minutes or decades apart - Yasha, Jester, Veth, even Kingsley for a moment. They come and go like flashes of light, there for a moment then gone the next, long enough to say hello, long enough for a fierce embrace, sometimes there for a day or two to spend together here and there. Veth is with him more often than the others, and after a time they welcome Luc together. Caduceus turns up, too, and they’re all there to meet him.

But most often, Caleb stays at home. He is thirteen, then fourteen, then fifteen - and this time he does not leave. He is sixteen and at home with his parents, seventeen and smiling with them in the kitchen over breakfast, eighteen and wedged between them on the sofa with an arm around each of their shoulders.

Then, after a thousand years and no more than a heartbeat, he wakes up thirty-six to a drow on the doorstep.

He looks the same as he always has. They stand there for a moment as though rooted to the spot, staring across the threshold at one another, Essek’s face etched with plain emotion in a way he rarely allows. Then before he’s even sure who moves first, his face is buried in the crook of Essek’s neck, Essek’s hands are clutching tightly at his back, and they’re holding each other as though they would fall off whatever plane this is if they let go.

He has missed these arms. He has missed this voice, as the words start tripping from his tongue. He has missed this man.

"Were you happy?" he asks when the reintroductions have finished.

"I was not unhappy."

"But were you happy?"

Things don’t always feel quite solid here; there’s always the sense that a constant, light breeze is whispering between himself and anything he touches. But Essek has ever had a knack for gravity, and he holds Caleb so close and so tightly now that he wonders if he still has bones to break.

“I was content,” he says. “Happy, perhaps, but...” He takes a long, shaking breath, somehow sinking even further into Caleb’s arms. “Now I am happy.”

He stays. With a shy smile, he meets Una and Leofric. He holds his hand out to shake, but instead they pull him in for a hug so full of warmth and welcome that Caleb catches tears in the corners of Essek’s eyes. They treat him like the family he is, and every time Caleb thinks it breaks him a little.

Sometimes, more often than he might have thought, someone Caleb doesn’t know turns up on their doorstep. A string of halflings who bear a haunting resemblance to Veth and Yeza and Luc, one after another, calling Essek uncle. Once, a man who looks very much like Essek, but taller, broader, and with longer hair. A parade of faces he doesn’t know. Sometimes they embrace him, sometimes they only talk. Always Essek is left with the same soft smile.

“Was there never anyone else?” Caleb dares to ask one day, and knows Essek will take his meaning.

Essek shrugs his shoulders as though he were asking about the weather. “I did not desire anyone else.”

It seems strange, to have lived hundreds of years without love and call it contentment. To say he had been happy. But the halflings who must be Brenattos keep coming, and generations of blue-green faces with Jester’s smile and Fjord’s eyes, and others Caleb can’t begin to place, and Essek smiles every time - so honestly that Caleb can’t help but believe it. There had been love. Centuries full of it, in a different flavor.

“Do you still…” Caleb asks finally.

“Yes,” Essek answers without a second thought.

The flavor of this one, after all this time, is still the same. They slip back into their old patterns as though they had never stopped, and if sometimes Essek stops and kisses him with such tenderness that he can practically feel all the years that must be behind it, Caleb won’t be the one to stop him. Here, they can take their time again.

Caleb is fifty years old, lying on his side in a bed he once knew in a little house in Rexxentrum, one hand clasped loosely with one of Essek’s in between them as they each take in every line of the other’s face.

“May I ask one last favor?” Essek asks, little more than a breath.

“Anything,” Caleb replies.

Essek squeezes his hand. “Do not leave again.”

Caleb pulls both their hands close, pressing a kiss into the back of Essek’s palm, and looks him in the eye. “Ja, okay.”

They lie there together forever and for only a moment, in the golden haze together. In the morning he will be thirteen again, or thirty-three, or thirty-six, and his family will be there. All of them, together.

#let's just slap a bandaid over all of that canon pain #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #mine #mine:fic #caleb #essek

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words-writ-in-starlight · 3 years

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day 1: "bound"

Essek cannot, in honesty, say that he is paying attentiong to anything being said right now. He should be—this is his trial, after all, his death sentence, the axe finally starting to fall—but he isn’t. He’s made his confession, did all he could to exonerate anyone who might be caught in the crossfire, offered the names of his co-conspirators. There is no defense to offer that the Bright Queen would consider worth hearing.

Indeed, laying it all out again has reminded Essek that I am a selfish and overcurious man, and thought nothing of it is not exactly an exculpatory defense, even if she did hear it.

So, Essek feels that his involvement here is complete, is the truth. All he has left to do at this trial is still be sitting bound and compliant in the accused’s seat when they sentence him to die, and he can do that without listening.

On a strictly professional level, he finds that he’s impressed with the efficiency of his arrest. He estimates that it’s probably no later than five hours past noon. He was called to an emergency meeting at the palace perhaps six hours ago. In that time, he has been accused of treason, thoroughly countered in an escape attempt, stripped of all spell components or possible weapons, and brought to the throne room to face the Bright Queen’s justice. Quana Kryn, the Dusk Captain of so many lifetimes, is no fool—she did all her work in secret, and only arranged for his arrest when she was sure that her case was beyond reproach.

She did her work well, Essek is obliged to admit, if only in the privacy of his own thoughts. And anything that she didn’t already know, he told them himself, under the strongest truth magic the clerics of the Luxon could muster. He had worked alone, after all. His confession meant that Verin, that the Nein, could walk free, and he freely admitted as much when his willingness to talk became the subject of question.

The Bright Queen had given him a look of cool, weary disappointment, and remarked that it was a shame he had come to loyalty so late. He had said frankly that he agreed, and that was the last they had asked of him.

And since then, he hasn’t been listening.

Instead, he is thinking. Not about magic, nor even really about saving himself. Essek has been living on borrowed time since the moment he walked out with a Beacon in hand, and he’s known it. He wants to live, but this feels—inevitable. This feels like it’s already over, and Essek is only dreaming this trial, these chains, and this sentence. So his mind wanders, and he’s surprised to find that there are more fond places in his memory than others, these days.

He’s thinking about the new cat that Caleb recently adopted, a scrawny gray-and-black kitten that Caleb coaxed with scraps for a week until it trusted him enough to be touched and taken inside off the street.

He’s thinking about how Caleb promised Luc that he could name it, next time the Brenattos visited Rexxentrum.

He’s thinking about Fjord and Jester making port in Nicodranas in a month, and Beau breaking into their study to sit on Caleb’s desk with Urana, the dainty black cat Essek brought Caleb two years ago, in her lap, just to tell them that they were going to teleport everyone to the Chateau for dinner.

He’s thinking about sunlight, strangely, and the way it glows on Caleb’s hair, makes the freckles on his eternally windburned cheeks bright on his skin, turns his blue eyes piercing and warm. Sunlight speaks with a Zemnian accent, in Essek’s life, and he might be the first drow in a long time to wish he was going to see it again before he dies.

Essek is so absorbed in his own thoughts, in refusing to listen to the voices deciding on the method of his death in favor of the memories of other voices, full of joy and exasperation and playful outrage and affection, that at first he assumes he’s imagining the words in his ear.

“Heeeeeeey, Essek, it’s me,” Jester chirps, and he can picture her sitting on the rail of the ship, kicking her feet and making Fjord count for her. “Just wanted to say hi, ummmm, we saw a whale yesterday that could have swallowed us whole! Let me know how—”

Essek almost curses himself aloud for not having thought of this.

Jester doesn’t Send to him every day, not all the time. Maybe one in three, on average. Sometimes she’ll go a week without Sending at all, and other times—usually when they’re becalmed somewhere and she’s bored—he’ll get three messages a day. She’s charmingly blasé about relative times, between the Lucidian and their landbound homes, or at least, Essek reminds himself that it’s charming when she wakes him up from a deep sleep. He had no way of knowing that she would Send to him here, now, and now she has, and he has no idea what to do.

Essek needs to answer her, though.

The reality of his situation—it doesn’t set in, all at once, abruptly. He’s been well aware of the reality of his situation for some time now. But the reality of this aspect, this unforeseen complication, comes home immediately.

If Essek doesn’t answer her, Jester will assume something is wrong. If she assumes something is wrong, she will either hammer him with Sendings until he responds, or, more likely, go directly to Caleb and demand his help in reaching Essek. He loves his friends desperately, but they have never encountered the idea of a half-measure, and he doubts the feeble protection offered by his confession will keep them from being apprehended as traitors if they actually come and try to rescue him.

If Essek had more time to think, he might take a moment to bask in the warmth of being a person whose friends might try to rescue him. But he doesn’t have time, and he doesn’t have the luxury of letting this slide.

He can’t risk them.

Essek raises both his bound hands and scratches at his brow, hiding his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Jester, I’m in a meeting,” he murmurs, so quietly he can barely hear himself. He keeps his voice as calm and matter-of-fact as possible, just like the times when she really has interrupted a council meeting or the like. “I may be quite busy for a week or so. I will Send to you when I can.”

There’s a pause, and then her voice comes back, dramatically forlorn.

“But Essek, we miss youuuuu,” she whines, and then bursts into giggles. “We really do! Send when you have time, and stay out of trouble! Love you!” She pauses again, and then hums tunelessly until the spell runs out.

“Essek Thelyss,” the Bright Queen says, her voice ringing across the throne room like struck crystal. “Rise, and receive your judgement.”

“I will,” Essek whispers, and then lowers his hands, and stands to face his sentence.

#whumptober 2021 #no. 1 #bound #critical role #mighty nein #fic #essek thelyss #this one has multiple parts!#stay tuned for later updates further into october!#i am trying to like...not think myself into a corner too much about these #please do not worry about my handwaved plot it is there exclusively for my convenience #anyway i like this because the bindings in question are both literal and figurative and i love that for essek #anyway i don't understand how whumptober works so i'm just straight up not titling them except with 'day 1' etc #and the with the prompt i used #they will get titles later when i collate them into an ao3 collection after the event #i do NOT anticipate getting to every single one of these by the way. so reserve your expectations to a healthful level.

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tepid-tea · 2 years

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Alright, heres this weeks Wip Wednesday! sorry its not more but I hope you enjoy! Last week Too everyone's surprise Kingsley was completely taken by Izil, he’d sat on the floor with her in his lap for hours it seemed. He waved his tail for her to try and catch; the shine of the gold piercings were catching her eye to grab with chubby little hands. She’d squeal high and bright every time she caught it, looking up at the tiefling with a pleased look as he cooed at her. Then when it came for dinner time Kinglsey offered to take her while they were eating; not even minding when she had gotten mashed potatoes on his pants. “Damn, looks like Fjord has been dethroned as Izzies favourite” Beau laughed as the cats started to whisk away everyone's dinner plates.

Essek couldn't help but smile at the frown on the half orc’s face that could nearly rival the pout Jester had been sporting all evening. He had tried to talk to her and get Izil to at least interact a little with the blue tiefling but the baby refused and cried. The suggestion of them coming to stay in Nicodranas for a little while after this was well received. Perhaps with more time together Izil would get used to Jester but she still seemed sad. Now with Izil latching onto Kingsley without any hesitation it just seemed to worsen her mood.

“You plan on makin any more of these?” Kingsley asked suddenly, causing Essek to choke on his drink. Looking over at the tiefling he could see there was a glint of mischief in his eyes but also actual interest as well.

“We’ve not really discussed anymore beyond Izil to be honest” Essek murmured, taking a sip from his wine glass as he looked over at his husband for a moment.

Caleb had been distracted all evening but now he seemed to be allowing himself to relax a little. Currently he seemed to be whispering with Yasha, eyes as bright as the smile on his face as they drank. If he didn’t know any better he would think the two were plotting something but even if they were he knew Yasha would let it get too wild.

Sighing softly Essek looked back to Kingsley and reached out to wipe a smudge of potato off Izil’s cheek that was missed. She meeped softly and grabbed at his fingers to try and stuff into her mouth to gum onto. Huffing gently, he let his fingers slack to allow her to gum happily as her ears wiggled in glee. Her free hand rubbed at her eye tiredly but at the same time she seemed content and happy. “If she is all we ever have then I would never complain” Essek murmured, brushing his free hand over her cheek and wiggly ear.

“That's not a no” Kingsley chuckled, handing Izil over when she started to reach towards him with tiny ‘ah’s’. “It's not something we’re really in a position to think about Kingsley but if that changes I’ll let you know” Essek smiled, pressing a kiss to the side of Izil’s little head. He swapped his fingers for her stuffed kitty to teeth on, wiping his damp hand on the napkin from the table.

“That would be lovely, I really want to be there for the whole process; if you know what I mean” The tiefling grinned wolfishly, waggling his eyebrows at him. “And we’re done; pleasure as always.” Essek dragged out the first word, rolling his eyes as he stood with his daughter in his arms. The other man cackled and gave him a nod as Essek made his way out into the central iris. He wasn’t escaping per say, he had an infant covered in potatoes that needed a bath and bed.

—--

“Ah! AH!” Izil cried out, splashing her little hands in the basin of water. No matter how sleepy she always enjoyed bath time.

With dinner and the day's activities washed off the infant, Essek placed the floating rubber duck into the water to give her time to play. He couldn’t help but smile as her eyes widened and zeroed in on the bobbing yellow fowl. With soft little ah’s and other sounds she grabbed at the duck and pushed it around making it gently bob and weave. A tiny look of annoyance that screamed Caleb passed over her face as for some reason the duck wasn’t doing what she wanted. He watched as she lifted both of her little arms up, open palms and slammed her hands down into the water sending it everywhere.

Water collected in Izil’s eyelashes, her little stubby nose scrunching up as her ears flicked away the water she accidentally splashed herself with. A soft annoyed sound bubbled from her as she tried to fruitlessly scrub the soap and water out of her face. Essek watched her fuss for a moment before picking up a dry cloth and brushing it over her little face with a gentle shush. Once her face was clear he pressed a gentle kiss to her still scrunched up face, both hands cupping the sides of her face.

“You’re okay; we will have to reevaluate your approach for next time hmm?” He said as he gently pushed her damp hair back. “What experiment was she trying out?” Caleb's voice drifted from the doorway. “The force in which she needs to exert in order to create waves to make her ducky dance” Essek replied, flicking said ducky towards the baby’s little grabby hands.

He watched as she quickly picked it up and crammed the head of it into her mouth to gum on. While she was distracted with that he continued to wash off the remaining soap from her as he listened to Caleb walk further into the room. She was starting to get sleepy eye’d as the weight of the long eventful day started to catch up on her. Izil always wore out quicker whenever there was the excitement of their friends visiting and fawning over her. He just wished it was under better circumstances then it was now. Even he was tired with all of the research and worrying they were doing as they looked into the source of the attack. Everyone had their own theories and none were very good. “Leibling, why don’t I finish up here with her so you can get to bed first hmm?” Caleb offered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he stood right behind him.

Normally Essek took care of bath times since Caleb usually had marking to do but their situation currently gave him a chance to step in. It didn’t help that the poor man had been high strung and with his stressed demeanor it made Izil fussy whenever he tried to hold her so he hadn’t had much time with her lately. Also her being extra clingy to him and crying whenever he was out of sight didn’t help either.

“Alright, just make sure you use the cream in the green jar after” Essek smiled, turning to give the other man a kiss. He pressed a kiss to the side of Izil’s head and made his way out of the bathroom and towards their bedchambers. “Okay mausi, let's get you dried ja?” Essek heard Caleb whisper as their daughter babbled back at her father happily.

#shadowgast #cr fanfic #my fic #wip wednesday

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aboxthecolourofheartache · 3 years

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Moar Box ficlets?? Yes please!! For your intimacy prompt meme, may I offer: #4 "sharing secrets" (platonic Essek & Beau), or #58 "sharing clothes / jewellery / personal items" (Shadowgast).

Beau and Essek are such a fun dynamic to write! cw: oblique references to emotionally neglectful parenting ~

“So, what have you been up to?” Beauregard’s shoulder thumps solidly against the door frame, blocking Essek’s most immediate line of potential escape. She folds her arms across her trim chest, and rolls her jaw lazily in a way that would be all comic swagger if it weren’t so intimidating.

Threat, interrogation, and small talk all in one. Essek smiles thinly, narrowing his eyes in sharp appreciation. Beau epitomizes economy of power. He respects that about her.

“I have been a very good little wanted criminal,” Essek says, bordering on demure simply to bother Beau. “My guard is up and my nose is down.”

She saunters in and props a hip on the desk. Her nose wrinkles. Deliberately recontextualizing his words, Beau says, “Gross.”

Essek takes a long, quiet breath through his nose. By now, innuendo is an accepted fact of his life. Like mildew on old books. Or rats. Essek’s safehouses and lodgings on the run are not always glamorous.

“When did you get in?”

Ah. Beau is attempting sociability. Essek, with his similar struggles, can recognize it more readily than most people.

“Very early this morning. Caleb could tell you the exact time.”

“Gross,” Beau says again.

Essek pretends not to hear. “If you are looking for him, he is at one of the student coffeehouses. An advisory meeting, I believe. He likes to keep his office hours public and witnessed.”

“Yeah.” Beau shares Essek’s fond smile. “Not to mention feeding that caffeine habit of his. The man lives on coffee, tea, and take-out.”

“Yes, well. He chose a less domestic partner.” Essek understates his frequent absences and perpetual flightiness easily. “Yasha is well? Have you thought more about adoption?”

Beau’s face flushes with elation. “Yeah, actually. We’re gonna head to Port Damali for a few months to meet the kids. Fjord says they’re excited, but we’re not gonna, like, just bring home a kid at random. We want to make sure they think it’s a good fit, too.”

“Beauregard, my most sincere congratulations.” Essek smiles at the rosy excitement evident in Beau’s every word about adoption. “You and Yasha will be exemplary mothers.”

“Oh my god, no. I am not going to be anyone’s ‘mother.’” Beau pulls a gargoyle grimace. “I’m gonna be a mom.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure I understand the distinction, but I respect the vehemence. And Yasha? Will she not be a ‘mother’ either?”

“She’s gonna let the kid decide, but she’s hoping for Mama or Mum.”

Essek considers this. “Luc calls Veth ‘Mama,’ correct?”

“Luc’s like thirteen. Veth’s ‘Moooooom’ now.” Beau imitates a petulant preteen with amazing accuracy. Then she blinks. “Wait. You never answered my first question.”

This is why Beau is an Expositor. Not even impending motherhood can derail her for long. Essek crooks a smile. “Truthfully, I am doing very little. I have not been able to stay anywhere long enough to establish a routine, let alone make progress on my studies.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say. ‘A war crime is a lifetime commitment.’”

Essek blinks at her coolly. “How quaint.”

“What, do you think ‘Treason’s more than just for Midwinter; it’s for life’ sounds better?”

“No.”

“Is soup really your favorite food?”

Essek backtracks, but he is familiar with this tactic. “I believe I missed a key transition in our conversation. I was going to suggest ‘Apostasy is a choice, but Excommunication is forever.' However, it seems you have moved on to… soup?”

The Nein fixated on his appreciation of soup in Aeor and have not relinquished it since. It baffles him. But, like innuendo, he long since came to accept soup as a fact of life with the Nein.

Beau sighs as if he’s grievously inconvenienced her. “Yasha wants you and Caleb to come to dinner tonight. She asked me to find out if soup’s still your favorite.”

“I still enjoy soup, yes.”

“Cool.”

Their respective social graces stall out. Or, at least, Essek’s sincere social graces stall. He can make different degrees of small talk - from inane to unnerving to thinly veiled threat - while trancing.

“Jester asked you that in Aeor.” Beau has opted to continue the conversation with her Expositor skills. Essek doesn’t mind so much. In fact, it’s nice to stretch his Shadowhand muscles sometimes.

“That is true.” He answers the unspoken question, giving her the first move.

“She asked you what your favorite food was, and you said no one ever asked you that before.”

Essek, unsure where this is going, chooses to confirm the bare facts and let Beau show more of her hand. “Yes, that was my response.”

Beau’s frown deepens. She studies him, intently and in silence, for almost a full minute. Essek waits, unruffled.

“Was that true?” Beau blurts. It’s a vague question, unbecoming of an Expositor, too broad to net much and too easy to dodge.

Essek blinks, unsure if this is a real slip-up or a tactic. “That was truly my response,” he hazards.

“No, like—” Beau scratches her undercut. “Was that really the first time someone asked you what your favorite food is?”

“My memory,” Essek begins, careful, “is not as exact as Caleb’s.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Was it a- a ploy or something?”

Essek is now thoroughly confused and wary. “Why would you suspect it was a ploy?”

“I dunno. For sympathy?”

“Sympathy,” Essek repeats. Baffled. He has completely lost his footing in this line of inquiry and it makes him nervous. Beau is staring at him.

“You don’t think it’s weird, do you.” Beau scrubs a hand through her undercut again. “Fuck. Okay. When I was growing up, my favorite food was risotto. My mom wasn’t great, but she had the cooks make it a couple times a month and sometimes when my dad was being, like, shittier than usual.”

“I am unfamiliar with the dish.”

“Fucking hell, Essek—” Beau snaps her jaw shut and glares up at the ceiling, obviously counting to ten to cool her temper.

Essek’s guard is fully up. They are both such damaged people, he thinks, distantly, that they struggle to have conversations that are not interrogatory. And Essek’s default response to nervousness has always been evasive opacity.

“So,” Beau begins again, calmer. “You were one hundred-and-twenty-some years old before anyone asked you about your favorite food.”

“To the best of my knowledge, that is correct,” Essek replies. “It was never….” He searches for an adequate word. “Hm, relevant. It was never relevant.”

Beau stares at him again, for a long, long time.

“Do you really think I’m gonna be a good mom?” she asks, finally. There is something vulnerable in her voice that sets the hairs on the back of Essek’s neck on end.

“I think you will be a good moth— I think you will be a good mom, Beauregard.” Essek says it and knows it to be true.

“Okay.” She sniffs. “Thanks.”

Essek chews his lower lip. “I have developed a fondness for that chickpea spread while travelling.”

Beau smiles a little. “Oh?”

Essek shrugs. “It seemed relevant.”

Beau groans and pushes away from the desk, stomping towards the door. “Ugh! Now I’ve gotta go buy some fuckin’ chickpeas. I know Yasha doesn’t have any in the kitchen, and she’ll want to make you some hummus or whatever.”

Essek calls after her. “Please tell Yasha that ‘or whatever’ is fine! I will be on time with Caleb!”

“Cool! Whatever!” Beau waves as she vanishes down the stairs.

#thank you for the prompt!! :D #Happy Fun Box of Writing #Box attempts CritRole #Essek Thelyss

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my-spiritualweapon-is-a-lollipop · 3 years

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Give me some Essek and Yasha being happy little homebodies!

Yasha getting into embroidery and using all of her focus and physical control to make pretty little flowers and sitting in amicable silence with Essek who is trying knitting to keep his hands fresh and dexterous for spellwork (and also making a warm orange and purple scarf at the moment). Just sitting together for hours and working away on their projects

Yasha and Essek swapping recipes that the empire siblings eat with a smile despite the many bugs and creepy crawlies going into them.

Essek coming over to chat with Yasha about being a new parent after the kids have gone to bed and leaving behind just piles of goodies and books for the kids.

Essek and Yasha goth shopping days.

Essek and Yasha midnight picnics in xhorhas because they miss THAT specific view of the stars.

Yasha deciding Essek needs to work out in case he needs to defend himself when magic isn't an option and kicking his ass into some semblance of fitness while Essek in turn teaches Yasha about history and other book learning she never got from her tribe.

Essek and Yasha man

#critical role #essek thelyss #yasha nydoorin #crit role

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mllekurtz · 3 years

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WIP WEDNESDAY

A few days ago (September 26) was the anniversary of my first Shadowgast fic, a better man than me. I was determined to celebrate, and then life happened! Still, I'm proud of that fic, and also grateful, because it led me into a wonderful fandom full of lovely people, some of whom have become dear friends.

So I decided to post the first paragraphs of chapter 1 of the sequel, set a year after the ending of a better man, as a WIP Wednesday treat! The wizards are in Port Damali, trying their best to live a normal life despite--well, you'll see.

(tagging @floatysparrowthing and @kmackatie who are kindly betaing this, and also @annundriel and by extension @marsastronomica because this is the wip I was telling you about!!)

The Hidden Pearl, a little shop of enchanted curiosities and books in the Beaded Alley, is — as the name suggests — a lovely, quaint place. The selection is a bit generic, but Caleb is sure there are worse ways to make a living. Port Damali is a place for merchants more than scholars, but there’s always some traveller in need of magic items, or looking for an odd bit of literature.

And Caleb is, most of the time, happy to help.

The half-elf woman in front of him knows what she’s looking for. She even looks a bit bored as she explains to him the exact kind of enchanted spyglass she wants. As Caleb brings out and puts back one spyglass after another, none of them meeting her increasingly detailed requirements, he can almost hear Pumat’s voice. He wonders where the actual owner of this shop got all his patience when he had to deal with him and the other chaotic chuckleheads who called themselves the Mighty Nein.

When the bell above the door rings, announcing the arrival of another customer, Caleb thinks that he might just kiss them. He glances at the door and fights back a smile at the irony of the situation, because the man who just entered wouldn’t in fact be opposed to that.

Essek’s usual disguise is fairly transparent, if one knows where to look. The small, tan-skinned human has sapphire-blue eyes, and his hair has the same length and texture as the real deal, but it’s dark brown instead of white. Not enough people in this city are familiar enough with the Mighty Nein to make the connection to Jester’s eyes, Beau’s skin tone or Veth’s hair colour, but Caleb is, and he does.

It wasn’t easy to persuade the monks at the Cobalt Soul to let Essek leave the Archive annex where he’s been living for the last year. He’s supposed to stay tucked away in there, as a sensitive political figure, both for his protection and so the Soul can keep a close eye on him. And as far as cages go, that’s a properly gilded one, with a stunning view of the sea and unlimited access to the Soul’s library. Still a cage, though, and Caleb can’t blame the man for rattling at the bars and missing freedom.

While they were all waiting for the other shoe to drop, though, weeks passed, then months, with the Dynasty either failing to do the math and realise Essek was still alive, or deciding he wasn’t worth the trouble. No Soul operative could probe deep enough to ascertain which it was, but the fact that Essek’s lot didn’t seem to be discussed at all was encouraging in a ‘no news, good news’ kind of way.

So the former Shadowhand of the Kryn Dynasty was allowed a daily walk, provided he Disguised himself and returned within an hour.

As he turns towards his half-elf customer again, Caleb lets his thoughts wander. The first and only time they broke the Soul’s curfew, there was a very unimpressed monk waiting for them back at the Archive. They hadn’t said anything, they just levelled a disappointed, put-upon look at the both of them. The Disguise spell had faded at some point during the night, and neither of them had cast it again. The night was warm, the vintage excellent and the company lovely, and they were both inebriated on the wine and each other. Being treated like unruly teenagers by a monk looking half Caleb’s age had been hilarious and humiliating at the same time. They thought it best not to stretch those boundaries again.

Essek’s Disguise hasn’t altered his height nor, as far as Caleb can tell, his clothes, which are the ones he wears in the Archive: a sleeveless blue surcoat over a white shirt with wide, billowing sleeves, turquoise trousers, loose and comfortable but tight around the ankles, and black shoes that look more like slippers, embroidered with shiny silver thread. It’s as far from Dynasty fashion as it can be, and he doesn’t look out of place in Port Damali, but then again nobody really does, in a mishmash town like this.

As the door closes behind him, making the bell ring again, Essek tilts his head towards him in polite acknowledgement, then turns around to peruse the shelves. Caleb has to wait another whole minute before the half-elf finally settles on a spyglass and leaves.

As soon as she disappears down the street, Caleb circles the desk and walks up to Essek in two long strides, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, breathing in his scent: brine and sweat from the walk, something dusty and pleasant classified as ‘library books’ in his mind, and then a faint flowery note.

The last one jogs something in Caleb’s memory, but it’s just beyond his grasp. He’s determined to figure it out before he admits his defeat and asks Essek, whose features — a close match to his own, if a little less sharp — soften visibly when Caleb pulls back and smiles at him.

He’s always a little surprised by how Essek, who used to present such a closed-off, warded demeanour when they first met, now just soaks up physical affection like a sponge, always craving for more. Still, there are limits to what can be done in a public establishment, and despite what someone at the Archive might think, they’re not always behaving like lovestruck teenagers.

“How was your walk?”

#also hello! yes! i'm still alive! life has just been a lot recently and all my wips are long or multichapters or both #so that's why i haven't been posting in a while #but speaking about this wip in particular #writing established relationships is challenging when it's long form #because of the inherent difficulty of writing interesting 'life after happily every after' dynamics #(yup that was a tangled the series reference)#but i felt like reckoning with their feelings and getting together was only the first step out of many for these two #and i realised there was a story there that i wanted to tell. thus: a sequel #i thought about a few different titles for this one and my current favourite is 'take the long way home'#so this is how i'm going to tag it if i post more snippets #i have two chapters written and one outlined out of 11 but i think this wip is going to get out of hand real soon #so who knows how long it's going to be! not me! not yet #also if you spot quarantine vibes it's because i outlined this between 2020 and 2021 and that was the mood #ending this tag commentary with many thanks to the supportive friends on discord who have already yelled at me about this ♥#critical role #shadowgast #cr fic #take the long way home au #wip wednesday #essek thelyss #caleb widogast

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

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Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #kingsley tealeaf #fjord #jester lavorre #chocfic

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dawl-and-dapple · 2 years

Text

rating: general warning: no warnings apply relationship: Caleb Widogast / Essek Thelyss word count: 1,362

A standalone mini-sode set in my space-opera AU.

***

“Oh, that knife’s already clean. It’s good to use.”

Essek stares at the knife he’s holding. There’s a funny blue-brown stain along the blade edge. “I would like to clean it anyway.” He holds it under the running water in the kitchen’s sink and reaches for a block of soap.

“No, seriously,” Caduceus says genially, “that mark isn't dirt. It’s just...something the moss does, after a while. Perfectly harmless. All our knives look like that.”

Essek looks down at the red and white burr-like lumps that Caduceus grew in his miniature greenhouse. They’re tasteless and odourless, but spongy and unexpectedly warm to the touch.

“Is something wrong?”

Essek startles at Caduceus’ voice so close to his ear. The ship’s cook had leaned over to inspect the chopping board. “No. Um, I will get to work now.”

Caduceus hums and goes back to his side of the tiny kitchen. He’s been grating a root vegetable into a broth since finishing preparations on a series of creamy sauces.

With the knife poised over the moss, Essek assesses the best approach — perhaps making small and steep slices to prevent the lumps from tumbling onto the countertop. He tests this hypothesis, finding moderate success, and continues to dice up the moss clumps. It’s going well, until Essek’s wrist begins to cramp. He grins and bears it for about ten more seconds before it dawns on him that, having never sliced a vegetable in his life, Caduceus made a tall order in asking for his help in the kitchen today.

Essek flexes his hand as subtly as he can, keeping his back to Caduceus. Something keeps clicking in his wrist.

Abruptly, the kitchen door slams open.

“Essek! Come help me out!” Jester has arrived and is holding Frumpkin out in front of herself like a lantern.

“Jester?”

“Absolutely not,” says Caduceus. He points at the doorway. “No animals in the kitchen.” It’s the most stern Essek has ever seen the man be.

“Aw, but I just wanted to—”

“Out.”

Jester’s shoulders drop as she lowers Frumpkin and retreats. But before she can leave, Essek drops the knife to the cutting board and asks, “Is it urgent?”

“Hm. Pretty urgent,” says Jester. She wiggles Frumpkin, who is still suspended by his front quarters. “I need to borrow you for a few hours. It’s a real fur-midable purr-oblem.”

Essek glances at Caduceus, who has relaxed now that Jester and the cat are in the corridor.

“Sounds serious,” says Caduceus with a smile.

Altogether too eagerly, Essek abandons his post and follows Jester. He makes note to apologise to Caduceus whenever he can, although he suspects that Caduceus isn't missing his “assistance” terribly anyway.

Jester leads him through the adjacent common room where Veth, Fjord, Yasha, and Beau are deep in the throes of a game. A projected battlefield hovers over the middle of the room and two armies cover simulated hills, towers, and ditches. Yasha and Beau whisper to one another on one side of the table. On the other side, Veth and Fjord are almost tearing each other’s hair out.

Jester barely pauses as she passes by the group. “Kick their asses, Fjord.”

“Will do.”

“Try not to hurt each other,” says Essek, and then he’s being led out into the next hallway.

He chooses not to ask where he’s being taken and what the emergency is. If Jester wanted him to know, she would have told him already. But she’s being very quiet.

Finally, they reach Jester and Fjord’s cabin. Jester hurries him inside and drops Frumpkin to the floor. She then claps her hands under her chin and grins so brightly Essek nearly shrinks back.

“ Essek ,” she whispers, “you’re being summoned .”

“I’m sorry?”

She wiggles her shoulders and narrows her eyes. “Caleb wants to see you.”

“Could he not have spoken to me directly?”

“No!” Jester looks horrified. “This is a secret, obviously! He didn't want the others to know, so I'm being very subtle and everything so you two can meet up and hang out, you know, privately .”

“Jester, we are all on a ship together.”

“Geez, take all the magic out of it, won’t you?”

Essek sighs. “Thank you, Jester. So, where exactly is our navigator?”

Caleb is waiting in the loading bay by the shuttle. He catches Frumpkin as the cat runs into his arms and drops him into a box between the two seats.

When Essek approaches, Caleb has the nerve to look sheepish. “Ah, you came.”

“Jester made the invitation rather difficult to refuse.” Essek puts his arms over Caleb’s shoulders and gives him a quick kiss on the mouth. “But it was a strange one, I must admit. Unusually theatrical, for you.”

Caleb smiles. “It is only a supply run to the planet we’re orbiting — you might have noticed we are resorting to the moss again. But, ah, I wanted to surprise you. I think you will like what I have in store.”

The shuttle ride is short. Essek watches the atmosphere of the planet burn up against the viewing panel with bright roaring reds and greens, like a miniature aurora. The shuttle shudders and squeals through the final moments of entry and then they are soaring over the surface of a new planet.

A vast dry salt flat stretches out in every direction. It’s quilt-like with endless ponds and iridescent under a setting sun. “No complex lifeforms,” Caleb explains as he gently pilots their shuttle towards the ground. “Nothing which will try to eat us. Ideal, since we’re here for food ourselves.”

“There is native flora then?”

“Yeah, if you look closely.”

They arrive at sunset on a shallow cliff of cascading saltbeds. The crust at the lips of the ponds has Essek thinking of a waterfall frozen solid.

Once their masks are in place, Caleb climbs from the open shuttle door and goes straight to the edge of the saltbed. He kneels and dips the tip of a finger in the water. “Feel this. Like the temperature of a cooling bath.”

The water is indeed a comfortable temperature. It’s milky and bluish, like the sweet drinks Jester sometimes blends for herself. But Essek knows from the shuffle’s scan that this stuff is as toxic as the air. “There is plantlife in there?”

“Yes.” Caleb stands and wades into the water, then turns and holds his hand out to Essek. “Join me?”

Amused, Essek takes his hand and walks until he’s knee-deep in warm saltwater. Frumpkin, who has left the shuttle, sits at the edge of the water and watches with dimly glowing eyes.

When Caleb bends to grab something by their feet, he pulls up a fistful of greyish weeds. “Doesn't look impressive, but it tastes remarkable,” he says, putting the weeds into his suit’s pocket. “Caducus will make a wonderful curry from it. Congratulations, Essek, on your first scavenge.”

Essek laughs. “Still not the strangest date we have had, Widogast.”

Caleb glances at him sidelong. “Clearly I’m not trying hard enough.”

Before Essek can respond, Caleb is pulling away and walking backwards into the deepest part of the pond. The sun has set and the sky is indigo and star-speckled. Essek can finally see the faint luminescence in each of the saltbeds around them, and the source of that bluish tint in the water.

Caleb throws his arms through the surface of the water. A cloud of glowing creatures, likely no larger than the water droplets themselves, are flung into the air above him. Like tiny blue fireflies, they flit around in aimless, baffled patterns before losing to gravity and falling back to the water. Some cling to Caleb’s sleeves. Some have landed in his hair. The water's surface itself is a rippling miniature of a galaxy.

Essek wades deeper, joins Caleb, and takes his beaming face between his hands. “You are unbelievable,” he tells him, then kisses him.

“I knew you would like it.”

Two moons hang above them. One, large and lantern-like, holds the other in its shadow. Essek throws a handful of glowing water towards the sky, where the rest of his friends are, even if he can't see them, and he laughs.

#yes i forgot to post this here yesterday #but just in case anyone hasnt seen it on ao3 yet. it's a teeny tiny shadowgast date in space #cr fic #ficlet #shadowgast fic #shadowgast

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Would an individual ask about Caleb ending up with the reader instead of Essek at the end of campaign be alright? I love the wizard bois together, but I'm crushing baaaad on Caleb hehe. Maybe they teach and live happily ever after together, very domestic living after all the adventures they've had :3

Hoping to satisfy your Caleb crush. How's this for some domestic fluff? Enjoy! 😘

The first rays of sunlight are blocked by thick heavy curtains. Awake or asleep, Caleb’s sense of time never fails him. He wakes up bright and early on the minute precise but makes no move to truly start his day. How could he with the sight he wakes to? There you lay, in his arms, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. Never did he think he’d see you so relaxed, or allow yourself to be so relaxed. Sure your lives are not free of stress or the occasional disaster and rarely are your livelihoods in peril these days but compared to months ago that doesn’t even come close to the dangers you’ve faced together; dangers that the majority of the people will never know about. A moment of peace and quiet was just another luxury you and him couldn’t truly afford no matter how much you may have pretended. But now you finally know peace.

Caleb watches your eyes flutter beneath your eyelids and watches just a moment longer carefully trailing his fingers up from their place on your waist to your cheek, caressing it fondly as you sleep. He reminisces when and where your lives intertwined in that tavern in Trostenwald and the events leading you both here together in your shared apartment in Rexxentrum at the Soltryce Academy as respectable teachers of the arts you both love.

When you first met Caleb feared you. He feared you more than anything for you just like him had ties to the Cerberus Assembly but you did not suffer the same fate he had. Luckily your studies were of no interest of his former master and you were instead claimed by another sent out into the world to learn more and find your own way. He was so scared you might lead the Assembly to his nonexistent doorstep and at one point entertained the thought you were a spy sent to bring him back but you proved the opposite. When he revealed his story and you told him you would help him or die trying beside him he brushed you off. Persistent as you are you gave him the wakeup call of a lifetime saying that you’re not doing this just for him but everyone before him, everyone after him.

To Caleb you will always represent all that is good and pure in this world despite the horrors that may have shaped you, changed you for better or worse. He will always consider himself to be the luckiest man in the world to have you at his side as his confidant, moral compass, study-mate, intellectual equal, bailout, friend, partner, but most of all; his lover for he could not want for anyone else in the world. No one could ever replace you and no one can compare to you. You may tell him you’re not the most intelligent, quick-witted, charming or interesting individual in the world but to him you are and he will argue with you on that until you grow tired of him and are forced to accept. He certainly does not mind the fluster of your cheeks and kiss you offer to shut him up.

And now you lie asleep cuddled up against him, limbs intertwined, the sunset orange covers slipping from your shoulder. Caleb hears the birds begin their song signalling he must leave the warm comforts of your embrace so carefully he begins to untangle his legs from yours, his arm from underneath your head replacing it by quickly pulling the pillow above down. He begins to untangle your grasp on his shirt slowly removing your fingers one by one. A deep intake of breath on your end and adjustment of your legs below the covers has him worried he’s woken you up.

Caleb knows fully well you have your own ways of waking up on time and you would have asked him the night before if he ought to wake you, so since you’re not already awake he’ll give you every extra minute of sleep you can get. You deserve it so he’ll curse himself if he’s the one to ruin it. Once you have adjusted and he’s sure you’re still sleeping he continues and removes himself from the warm comforts you’re huddled up among longing for nothing more than to share them a minute longer and gathers his things. In putting his lesson plans, notes and a few books to pass the time for the day he bends down to allow the orange tabby to jump into his arms and sets the cat onto the table taking a moment to stroke its fur and give some chin scratches leaving the little beastie purring.

Ridding himself of his night clothes Caleb puts on his shirt, and trousers tucking the shirt into the waistband and moves on to his footwear as per his usual routine. He takes the vest set out for him and is about to button it up when he feels eyes on him. His first thoughts go to the cat but that one’s not the guilty audience so instead his eyes fall to you, propped up against the headboard watching him.

“Well don’t stop on my accord. Though, I prefer the clothes back on the chair.” Your voice is still riddled with sleep but you’re awake enough for your comments so Caleb feels justified to give you a disapproving scowl though he cannot prevent the smile from creeping up his lips.

“Good morning to you too.” Caleb smiles as you cover a yawn with the back of your hand. You pull yourself out of the bed and stumble over to Caleb until you’re toe to toe placing a hand on his cheek guiding him into a kiss. Your lips move against his and his arms wrap around you to return and welcome your efforts openly. Though, enough’s enough and Caleb breaks the kiss giving you one final peck in an attempt to kiss away the onset disappointment and pout on your end.

“No matter how much I’d like to continue, Astrid will have both of our heads we show up late.” Caleb runs his fingers through your hair kissing your cheek as you cross your arms. Is there nothing you can do to convince him to stay? He might be right about Astrid…

“Well, I do not have any classes until second period but if you’re so adamant to stay with me I can send the archmage a message to tell her you’re regretful to be missing your first class of the day and to find a substitute.” You’re joking. Not really. A joke hiding the actual offer. Caleb considers it for a brief moment purely to entertain the thought but he knows very well he shouldn’t.

“You know we can’t but how about I make it up to you with dinner and dancing and a night in? Just the two of us.” Caleb cups your cheeks stroking your cheekbones with his thumbs, a gesture he knows very well makes you melt.

“That sounds like an agreeable offer, professor Widogast.” Your acceptance brings another bright smile to his face and he pulls you into another chaste kiss to seal the deal. This time you’re the one to pull away.

“Best get you ready for the day then, lest you be late.” Your nimble fingers stroke down the front of his chest finding the buttons of his vest and one by one buttoning them up. Once you’re done you take a few steps back looking him over.

“Do I pass your inspection, professor?” Caleb laughs half the mind to do a little spin for you but he refrains instead lifting the cat from the table into his arms.

“With flying colours. I think his highness is inclined to agree.” You watch as the cat meows making himself comfortable in your wizard’s arms without any intent to go anywhere but alas, all good things come to an end be it for the cat or you. With some protests Caleb puts the cat back on the ground allowing the creature to skitter off to gods know where.

You pull open the curtains allowing the light of dawn to fill the room. Caleb already regrets the decision of not taking you up on your offer to call in late and miss his first class as you look absolutely radiant but he feels certain both of you will be missing second and possibly even third period if he does, so he must refrain. Tonight will make up for it. He’s already got the perfect place in mind for dinner.

You catch Caleb staring, his gaze following you as you pull at the heavy fabric until the outside world is revealed to you. You put a little sway in your step before you gather your own clothes for the day and change in your usual attire, slowly. Deliberately slow. If he’s already staring you better not waste your opportunity and make a show of it.

“No use in staying in bed all alone. His Highness makes for good company but he’s a dull conversationalist. Perhaps I’ll drop by Beau at the Archives?” You deliberate your events for the morning tapping your chin.

“If you do, tell the Expositor I have some more files for her to study.” Caleb, finally pulled out of his trance steps back over to you, or rather besides you to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. You know he’s about to be off so you wrap your arm around his waist as you guide him to the door. Not much you can change about the need for students to be taught the wonders of transmutation magic. While you may find times you’d want to spend more time together, in the end neither of you would ever want to give up teaching. There’s plenty of other times you can spend together happily. Or you can justify combining your classes for one reason or another as you love nothing more than to share your passions.

“I’ll see you in a few hours at the Academy?” Caleb watches as you fall silent for a moment, your focus drawn away.

“Yes, I’ll make sure he knows. We’ll be there. Thank you.” You speak but Caleb knows fully well it’s not directed at him. This has become a habit he’s very much gotten used to so he simply awaits for you to share the message.

“Astrid wants us for lunch. She threatened to limit your access to the library if you’re late.” Of course she does, Caleb thinks to himself. So the archmage may or may not have heard about his almost-arrest of the day before. He’d already gotten an earful from you.

“Of course she does. There go our lunch plans for our free period.”

“You’re the one to get arrested for- and I quote ‘encourage insurgence among young impressionable souls’.” You grin. Okay, you may have been a little proud of Caleb actively trying to do better but you could do without the accusations of treason. You’d rather not have Caleb spend the night in jail because word got out or he pissed off the wrong person. You’d expect this from Beauregard but had hoped Caleb would be more careful about it and so apparently thought Astrid. He’s in for a scolding according to her tone.

“Merely teaching young impressionable souls how to be better. Is that a crime?” You grab Caleb’s coat and help him into it as he offers you a ‘thank you’.

“According to the king, yes it is.” The amusement in your voice is enough to earn you a playful glare. You open the door for Caleb and he steps halfway out offering you one final kiss.

“Love you.” Caleb pecks your lips. You’ve drawn out the length of the kiss long enough and he’s already on the verge of running late now so no matter how much he may want to stay, he has to go.

“Love you too, Caleb. See you soon and for the love of the arcane arts; stay out of trouble.” You know he won’t make that promise as he can’t keep it but you still tell him to every time. You kiss his cheek stepping back and watching the wizard leave as you close the door. Nothing but a usual morning; sneaking out of bed, cats, kisses, a message from your friend the archmage, talks of treason and the love of two fate-entwined mages trying to make the world a better place.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb x reader #caleb widogast x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Text

"I'm Lost Without You"

Had a friend roll me a d100 for the list of drabble prompts (you can request one if you want, they're here)

No angst zone, only smarts and fluff here!

Caleb has been over this problem several times. He sits on the plush carpeting in his office at the Soltryce Academy and he’s been here for hours. Books are open in a circle around him and the entire floor is papered in notes.

A student had asked a particularly intriguing question regarding the ethics of enchantment magic and despite it being Advanced Transmutation he’d promised them he would think about it for next class and get back to them. Now he was deep in a rabbit hole of research and had somehow worked his way around to tearing apart the layers of the equations of Geas to try and more deeply consider how it affects the mind, but something is missing.

He breaks from the frenzy he’s been in as the door opens, “Sorry office hours are over, I’m in the middle of something here.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed an appointment Caleb Widogast.”

His gaze snaps up, magnetically drawn to the sound of his name. Standing in his door way is a dark skinned elven man with short, tight curls and fine delicate features. He wears fine clothes and looks down at Caleb with a bemused smirk.

“Ach Schatz I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I got ah - involved in something. A student inquiry I found most fascinating. I am, however, stuck with deconstructing these equations.”

Essek settles on his knees beside Caleb, gently moving aside a few papers, “Show me, maybe I can help. Fresh eyes and all that.”

This is one of Caleb’s favourite ways to be with Essek. Intellect flying, swatting theories back and forth until they begin to take a proper shape. At one point Essek makes an invaluable insight and Caleb relishes in being able to lean over to kiss him softly and mutter “Brilliant mein Liebchen.”

On the other hand, Essek delights in small, soft touches as Caleb is talking and he’s processing. Sometimes as Caleb talks he’ll lay a hand on his knee or rub circles into his back. As Caleb’s hand cramps from writing Essek takes the quill and finishes the thought before taking Caleb’s hand in his and rubbing out the aches.

Eventually he catches it. Essek is slightly more familiar with Enchantment than him and he notices an incorrect rune in the textbook Caleb had based his work on. “Ah that is, well it’s a stupid mistake to be sure but thank you for righting me. I’m lost without you.”

Essek’s hands go to cup his face, slender fingers scratching just slightly into his beard, “Darling you’re not lost, just exhausted. Let’s go home, I’ll make some tea.”

“Ja, that sounds wonderful.”

Not bothering with walking Essek stands and helps Caleb lift onto his feet before beginning the incantation for Teleport, leaving the office a chaotic mess to be dealt with in the morning.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr fanfic #the mighty nein #gay wizards #fan fiction #wreckwrites #thanks for the 36 Scarlet!

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starlling-writes · 2 years

Text

Copper & Amethyst

Caleb has grown old, and his wish is to spend his last years separated from Essek. He doesn’t want to sever all ties; he still cherishes Essek. But even with Caleb still in his life, the slow loss of his dear friend and first love claws at Essek, driving him to learn a new spell.

Rating: PG Contains: Hurt/Comfort; Themes of loss; Lifespan angst; Minor swearing; Drugging (basically just secretly giving someone NyQuil/ZzzQuil); Brief alcohol use Words: 3100

Writing Masterlist

— — —

A/N:

I choose to believe that elves can sleep, they just don’t need to

Dragon!Yussa

Schatzi = little treasure

Vogelchen = little bird

Kätzchen = kitten/ little cat

Zauberperle = magic pearl [*Perle (pearl) is typically a term of endearment said towards femme individuals. However, given these wizards' habits of using pearls as components, I thought it'd be cute & fitting to use here]

— — —

“I think it’s time,” Caleb gently spoke as he closed his book for the evening.

Essek’s attention switched to him. A tightness started to grow in his chest. He understood. This was one of the inevitabilities that he never let himself fully think about. Caleb meant so much to him; he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Making the effort to keep his voice from betraying him, he said, “You know you don’t have to. Your aging does not diminish you.”

Caleb curtly hums, neither a non-verbal agreement nor a dry laugh. The two had danced around this discussion enough before to know he was stubborn on this. Caleb reached into his component pouch. Retrieved two silk cocoons. He propped his elbow on their shared armrest of the tête-à-tête sofa, offering out his hand and the cocoons, and said, “One last go?”

“Of course.” Essek took one of the cocoons. He carefully slid the sleeping cat from his lap to the seat as he stood up. each other, they each cast the familiar spell and turned themselves into cats.

Cat-leb’s tail twitched with joy. His polymorphed body was far more energetic and agile than his usual one. He took off galloping. Es-Katze followed after, though with less spring in his step. The two wandered through the labyrinthine tunnels of Caleb’s tower. It wasn’t long until Cat-leb turned their jaunt into a game of tag. They dodged each other, jumping over and skittering past both the fey, cat servants and their regular, pet cats. When their hour was nearly up, they headed to the top of the tower. There, the two of them curled up under a sea of stars. Even after the spells had faded, they stayed cuddled together in comfortable silence.

But the moment had to end.

Caleb sat up and looked down at his partner. Essek reached up to brush some errant strands of hair from Caleb’s face. He’d miss gazing into those starry-blue eyes like this. “One more day?”

The smile Caleb gave him was warm yet doleful. This wasn’t the first time he planned on leaving; but he was resolved to stop dragging this out longer. “Not this time.” Essek’s hand fell away from his face briefly as he sat up and turned to face Caleb. He leaned in, cupping Caleb’s face in both his hands, and pressed his forehead to his. “Vogelchen,” Caleb soothed. He placed a hand on Essek’s. Traced over the simple ring he wore.

“Kätzchen,” Essek responded. He intertwined his fingers with Caleb’s and pulled a few inches away. Words hesitated at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to find the right words, the right actions, to achieve what he wanted—like crafting a new spell. But as painful as it was to say goodbye, it’d be more painful to force chains onto the man who helped pull him from the corruption he’d fallen into all those years ago. Holding back all the words and feelings that might betray his partner’s desires, Essek simply leaned forward and kissed him.

He’d steal every moment he could with Caleb.

They retired to bed. Essek, of course, didn’t sleep. Didn’t trance. He watched Caleb sleep, stoked his hair occasionally, held his hand and traced his ring. He was fine with being a bit exhausted tomorrow. He doubted rest would even come to him if he tried. The emptiness building within him was harrowing. A staticky numbness was beginning to bite from its depths.

His body started to betray him. His eyelids grew heavy; his mind drifted and lost increasing spans of time; his limbs were heavy, like he was trapped under a blanket with all their cats piled on top of him. Caleb had drugged his tea. Did he know Essek would refuse to get any rest on their last night together? Essek squeezed Caleb’s hand and let a few tears escape as he succumbed to the soporific.

When Essek startled awake, he was alone in bed. There were only a couple warm spots from where cats had been. He didn’t need to check the tower to know Caleb had already left. He had the instinct to send him a message, or maybe try to scry on him. But he hesitated…

Caleb wanted distance. It wouldn’t be right to so quickly invade his space.

He pushed his desires away. He got out of bed and focused on doing things. Making breakfast. Feeding the cats. Gathering some effects. Focusing on tasks helped keep himself stable. For now. He assumed these feelings he was avoiding would worsen to an unavoidable level at some point.

A quick teleport brought him home to Rosohna. Or more so, to his house. Nothing about it felt like a home. He began working on his usual magic studies. The familiar routine was a small comfort. But the comfort was fleeting. It wasn’t long until he’d get to a part in his research that he’d start talking about aloud only to cut himself off when he remembered Caleb wasn’t around to listen—he’d have to get used to that again. The rest of his work felt hollow.

The Mighty Nein had sent him on a whirlwind when they first appeared in his life. He hadn’t expected to grow fond of them. Of the human wizard with a scarred past. But now he here was, decades later, facing the slow loss of the fools that forced their way into his life and helped show him the path to a second chance.

Essek shut his notebook. He went and got himself a glass of wine. He plopped on the couch in his front room, took one sip of wine, then set the glass down and curled up with his arms around himself. He felt bombarded. And he was uncertain how to handle these emotions.

He knew this was going to happen. He knew he’d outlive the few people he cared for—what with their shorter lifespans and habits towards danger. Life had been generous towards them and kept tragedy away. Yet that did not make the pain any easier to deal with; and he’d have a long time to carry this weight… Even if they stayed romantically separated, Essek wished he could give more years to Caleb. Just one more decade. Just a bit more time together.

Perhaps he could craft a spell to do just that.

Not wanting to sit and wallow further, Essek made himself get up. He went over to the shelf where he kept his spellbook. With it in hand, he returned to the couch and started flipping through it. So many spells he had learned. A handful he had crafted—both by himself and with Caleb. He turned to the page with the first spell he helped Caleb craft: Widogast’s Transmogrification. Too bad it only changed the form of a person and didn’t grant them any benefits from their turned form. But that got him thinking…

There wasat least one spell that could grant him what he sought. Or, partly—what he knew of the spell, there was some ambiguity he might need to adjust for. It was of higher magic than his current casting abilities, but he could get there. The real question was: would Caleb willingly undergo the spell? Thinking about his fellow wizard and his stubbornness, he had a strong feeling the answer would be no. But he couldn’t entirely rule out a possible yes. Caleb was a wildcard at times and surprised Essek with decisions he’d make. Maybe he’d accept if Essek already learned the spell.

He began planning a visit to the one person—that wasn’t Caleb—he could think of to help him learn it.

Caleb sat by the salon fireplace reading a book, with only a sleeping cat in his lap as company, since, yet again, Essek was busy elsewhere. He’d been busy a lot more lately. Caleb asked once what his friend was up to but he never got a complete answer. Working on another spell, was as much as he got. He offered to help, but Essek politely refused. That was fine. If he wanted to figure the puzzle out on his own, Caleb would happily sit aside.

But as the days Essek canceled their plans continued to add up, Caleb couldn’t gently overlook his absence. At times, he��d wonder if Essek was avoiding him to deal with his grief. He wondered if he already shut Caleb from his heart and was reverting to the time when he was more closed off from even friendly affection—

But then those thoughts would be assuaged by the glint still in Essek’s eyes the chance times they did get together. Caleb didn’t press for answers. He knew they’d come in time.

“There’s something I want to discuss,” Essek finally managed to bring up, some few months later.

Caleb looked at him. Reading Essek’s body language, he set his book down and gave him his undivided attention. “Alright.”

Essek cleared the table between them, then pulled out his component pouch. First, he pulled out some incense cones and set them on the table. Then he pulled out a little rock. No—not a rock. A piece of resin. Judging by the color and the assumed relation to the incense, it was likely gum arabic. Third, he placed down a small glass bottle with a silvery liquid in it. Mercury. Lastly, a small hourglass filled with white, sparkly sand; on the top, a magic circle was carved with runes they often used in chronurgy.

Caleb didn’t recognize the spell they were for. “What is this?”

“A modified version of True Polymorph.”

“Essek…” Caleb looked between the components and Essek. So this is what he had been up to all this time.

“An elf. Loxodon. Genasi. Even a dragon. Once the spell sets, you’ll gain the lifespan of your new form.”

Caleb tried and stopped short of a response a couple times. He didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. Hell, he barely knew what he was feeling. In one way, it touched him that Essek would take so much time to learn and customize a spell just for his sake. But like with the opportunity to cheat time with that Aeorian relic, this felt like something he shouldn’t touch, no matter how appealing it seemed.

As Caleb continued to fail to respond, Essek knew he had his answer. His gut tightened as he held his composure. He returned the components to his pouch. He replaced the notes and research equipment he had cleared away and continued on their research, ignoring Caleb’s unrelenting stare, as if he had never interrupted them.

To say Caleb was concerned was an understatement.

Essek never brought the spell up again. He refused to talk about it anytime Caleb dared to even skirt the subject. Besides that, everything was fine. Normal. Essek was around more, which was nice. But how he so quickly acted like he never proposed his modified True Polymorph spell, had never even thought of it, weighed on Caleb. It left a sinking ball of frozen iron in his gut to think he might be so thoroughly expunged from Essek’s life once gone.

Caleb began spending more time just sitting with all the cats and his thoughts. It was his turn to pull away. But unlike his old partner, Caleb wasn’t secretly crafting a spell for him. That spell… it was the first time Essek expressed any sort of unease over Caleb’s caducity. Death was something Caleb had always been content with meeting. In all his musings about time manipulation, he had never contemplated extending his own life, only tricking time to give his parents a second chance. Though, there had never been much of a reason to consider it.

Now he had Essek.

Should he reconsider on his behalf? Caleb began giving it some thought. With the lifespans of the races Essek mentioned—what would he do with all that time? He already lived such a full life. To take more… it was challenging to feel like he deserved to take any more than had.

He decided to seek some counsel.

Stealing an afternoon, Caleb teleported to the coast to meet Yussa for lunch. It was no surprise that Yussa already had some knowledge of the situation. Giving it a quick thought, this was where Essek must have been sneaking off to in order to learn and craft that spell. This made things easier. Caleb didn’t have to explain and just dove in.

“Would you jump at the chance to live upwards of eight time longer?” Caleb asked.

Yussa shrugged and sipped his drink. “Why not?”

“It’s so much time to take… Why live that long?”

He raised an eyebrow at Caleb as he withheld a sigh. “I repeat—why not?” Caleb didn’t have a response. “It might be different for me, since I already have so much more time than you, but this is such a rare opportunity. Why refuse it?”

“I don’t need to live hundreds of years.”

“You don’t need to cast magic, yet you do. You don’t need to care for so many cats, yet you do.”

Caleb snickered. “Those aren’t quite comparable.”

“You take in strays, thus adding years onto their lives. You claim what isn’t yours by birth and pull the arcane strings to you will. Claiming more years of life is simply another thread to pluck. You’re not seeking nor gaining immortality. And you still might not live long into the added years. What malfeasance would it be to accept?”

He sat with Yussa’s words. Mulled it over. Was it really okay as long as he wasn’t fully slighting the natural cycle? Didn’t have malicious motives? He could be an elf, just like Essek. Gods knew he didn’t need all the power that’d come with turning into a dragon. “Was it your idea or his to suggest turning me into a dragon?”

“It was more so I pointed out his deliberate aversion to suggesting it.” His expression shifted as he thought back on it. “You would’ve enjoyed seeing how flustered he became when I brought it up.”

“Sounds like you want me to do it,” Caleb accused. “I’m surprised you’re even okay with the idea of someone True Polymorphing to become a dragon.”

Yussa hummed, letting his dragon side peak out in a rumbly undertone. “One perk of the spell is that the caster needs to have seen the morphed form in person. Not many people get to see a dragon in their true form and live. The ones who do, and who have the magical prowess to even attempt such a spell, either know better than to indulge in such wanton hubris, or they have felled the dragon making the situation… an exchange, of sorts.”

“I wouldn’t be an exchange,” Caleb countered.

“But you also wouldn’t be hubristic.”

“I would be if I turned Essek into a dragon as well.”

“Elves live nearly as long as us; there’s no need to morph him.”

“So you’re saying I can’t turn Essek into a dragon?” Caleb teased. Yussa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Caleb chuckled. His gaze unfocused as he started to contemplate. “Dragon, huh?... What would I even do with all that time?”

“Whatever you’d like,” Yussa offered. “Whatever you’re already doing.”

“Teaching. Collecting cats and knowledge, I guess,” he said to himself. He lightly laughed again. “A hoard of cats and knowledge.”

Yussa watched him closely as he continued to ruminate. He watched various emotions subtly dance in Caleb’s expression. He finished off his drink and reclined back into his seat. “Looks like our talk has helped you sort things out,” he mused.

Caleb met his sharp gaze and gave him a warm smile. “Yes. So it has.”

Some nights later, Essek and Caleb were together again, reading over some new tomes on their tête-à-tête sofa. As the hour drew late, Essek got ready to leave. He was not prepared for when Caleb called him, “Zauberperle.”

His hands paused as he was putting his book in his bag. His heart skipped into a canter. “Caleb?” He sat up straight and looked at him; but nothing in Caleb’s expression betrayed his intentions behind pulling out the pet-name again. His eyes trained on Caleb as he left the room, then returned a moment later with a small box. He balanced it on the shared armrest—the box was small enough. Essek eyed it curiously for a half second before returning his attention to Caleb. “What is this?”

“Do you have a preference?”

Essek’s brows knitted together. “Of what?”

“Elf or dragon?” Caleb answered. However, that didn’t answer things for Essek; it just deepened his confusion and curiosity. Caleb chuckled, brushing off Essek’s growing anxiety. “I guess we can try a few times and see which one fits better.”

Exasperated from the lack of answers, Essek opened the box, hoping it’d give some clarity.

And it did.

Now his heart thundered for a different reason. “You…”

“Changed my mind—yes.”

For a moment, it didn’t feel real to Essek. Even with the components to the spell he crafted sitting right there, in the box before him, it felt like a dream. He took a sharp breath to steel himself before asking, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured in this.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this now?” he sassed.

Essek gave him the look he reserved for when he scolded Caleb, often accompanied by the line young man. Caleb’s smile grew warmer—he still enjoyed being just enough of a little shit to coax that look from Essek. Caleb took Essek’s hands in his, the mischief in his smile shifting back to love. “I choose to be selfish, and arrogate as many more years of your life to be by my side as you’ll give me in return.”

“They’re all yours to take, Schatzi.” Essek pressed his forehead to Caleb’s and squeezed his hands. He pulled back a moment, stared into Caleb’s soft eyes, then stole a kiss. A quiet moment passed between them. “So does this mean we’re back together again as well?”

Without missing a beat, Caleb said, “I don’t know. I’ve been enjoying having more room in bed lately.”

“Says the one who already takes up most of the bed, you cat!” Essek admonished. Caleb laughed and kissed him again. Essek glowered, but quickly relented as Caleb continued to pepper him with kisses.

They both looked forward to the much fuller future they shared.

Together, as dragon wizards.

— — —

Writing Masterlist

> This fic is the result of my partner talking about a random dnd idea and me being like, “Omg... But what if Shadowgast?” :3c I hope you enjoyed.

#shadowgast #essek x caleb #caleb x essek #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #critrole fanfic #shadowgast fanfiction #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critrole #critical role #my writing

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