#“Essek can I see your wand” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aboxthecolourofheartache · 3 years

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How about Essek with 42 or 43, please? :D

#42 is "disconnected" cw: dissociation, Caleb's backstory Beau arrows down Academy hallways with single-minded drive, leaping over groups of students when they don’t part fast enough. They exclaim and call questions after her, but she gives exactly zero fucks about what they must be thinking to see an Expositor of the Cobalt Soul on a mission. She reaches Caleb’s office in record time, knocks, and doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling the door open. She collides with a wall of force and a very fierce-looking upper-level Academy student brandishing a wand.

“I’m Expositor Lionette,” Beau snaps. “Move.”

“Prove it.” The student - a young dwarven man - doesn’t budge an inch. Beau immediately likes him, but she also doesn’t have the bandwidth to be friendly at the moment. He peers closely at the Cobalt Soul badge she shows him and even casts a quick Identify on it to ensure its veracity. Beau likes him even more.

“Expositor,” the young man drops his protective wall and lets Beau inside. “I’m sorry. I had to be sure. I know the Professor has….” He trails off, trying to think of a diplomatic word.

“Enemies,” Beau supplies.

The dwarf looks younger and younger by the second as the burst of courage wears off and the nature of the emergency comes rushing back. “I am so glad you’re here.”

“Where is he?” Beau looks around the room.

The dwarf hesitates. “...In the corner over there.”

Caleb is indeed in the far corner of his office, eyes as big as saucers and as empty as a dead thing’s. Beau sucks in a breath through her teeth. “What happened?”

“He almost ran out of the door after class? It’s the first day of term. I’m his teaching assistant for one of the big introductory seminars. The whole lecture was great - it always is. He waits by the door in case students have questions on their way out. He’s always the last person out of the lecture hall. But he only stayed for three questions today, so I stayed instead. I thought he might be sick or something, and I didn’t even think he was in his office at first, but then….” The young dwarf shrugs. “I saw you once last semester. He talks about you as a friend, so, uh, I Sent to you.”

Beau does not want to take her eyes off Caleb, but she does. She looks the young mage right in the eye and lays a hand on his shoulder. “You did good. You did exactly right. He can’t thank you right now, but he will later. What’s your name?”

“Cornelius Amboss, Expositor.”

“Thank you, Cornelius. I can take it from here.”

Cornelius sags in relief. He can’t be more than twenty, and as good an arcanist as he might be, he’s just seen his mentor come apart at the seams. Caleb is going to be devastated, but that’s a problem for another day.

“Do, uh, do you need me to Send for anyone else, Expositor? I’ve got a few spells left.”

Beau hesitates, then grabs a drawing of the Nein off of Caleb’s desk. She points out the blue tiefling at the center. “This is Jester Lavorre. Can you….” Beau trails off. She has to pack everything into twenty-five words, and she’s not enthusiastic about what she needs to say. “Can you Send to her and say we might need the hot boy in Rexxentrum?”

Cornelius pulls a bemused face, but he’s smart enough not to say anything. Instead, he calls up a bead of light and speaks into it, enunciating clearly to account for his thick Rexxentrum accent. “Jester, Professor Widogast’s student speaking. Message from Expositor Lionette: We might need ‘hot boy’ in Rexxentrum—”

“He should come to the professor’s home,” Beau interjects.

“—at Professor Widogast’s home.” Cornelius almost ends the spell there, then quickly adds, “Professor is safe with Expositor.”

There is a pause, and then Cornelius makes the universal face of a person receiving a message from Jester. “She will message your friend and direct him to the Professor’s home,” he summarizes. “And she’s glad Caleb is safe.”

“Thank you,” Beau says again. She’s kneeling next to Caleb, now, looking him over with a concerned eye. “Okay, man. Let’s get you back to your place, yeah?”

“Ja,” Caleb says faintly. He still looks dazed and vacant. Beau helps him to stand while Cornelius hovers.

Beau looks at the door and blows out a breath. Getting Caleb home like this is going to be a challenge. Cornelius is thinking along the same lines. “I can’t teleport yet,” he says, miserable. “But I could cast invisibility on you both?”

Caleb surprises both of them. His tone is dead flat as he forces the words out. “I can teleport.” He stares down at the floor, dredging another sentence together. “Thank you.”

Beau has just enough time to pat Cornelius’ shoulder and say, “He means you. Thanks, kid.”

They vanish, leaving Cornelius to lock up Professor Widogast’s office and stagger down to the student union for a fortifying pint.

Beau and Caleb flash into his narrow house, which is amazing in itself considering Caleb’s state of mind. She had half an instant to wonder if they would end up off-target somewhere half-a-continent away before she’s tripping inelegantly over one of the cats and then awkwardly steering Caleb onto his couch.

He won’t talk to her. She can’t get a word of explanation out of him, and every fifteen minutes or so she has to stop him trying to claw all the skin off his forearms. She makes them both tea, which neither of them drink, and reads aloud to him from the book she finds on the end table by his armchair.

When Essek appears into the foyer, he’s soaking wet. He tugs off his cloak, and it splats on the tile, much to the outrage of the cats. “Caleb?” he calls into the house as he wrestles off his tall, sodden boots.

“Library!” Beau calls back. Caleb shrinks from her shout and she soothes him. “Sorry…”

Essek coasts into the room at speed. “What has happened? What is—? Oh… Oh, Caleb.” With a glance and a nod at Beau, Essek slows and drifts over to perch on the armrest.

Caleb’s hand emerges from the blankets piled on him and fastens around Essek’s upper arm. Essek covers his hand with his own. “I am going to ask Beauregard some questions, unless you think you could answer?” he asks Caleb. There’s no response. Essek looks to Beau. “What has happened?”

“One of his students Sent to me - same one I had Send to Jester - and said Caleb needed help. It’s the first day of term. He got through his lecture okay, but he bolted after class. The kid went to check on him and was smart enough to contact a friend and not someone from the administration.”

“So we do not know if there was something, ah, specific?”

“Do we ever?” The question is flippant, but Beau’s tone is gruff-concerned, not gruff-rude.

Twenty minutes go by. Caleb won’t let go of Essek, so Beau gets up to make more tea. Caleb’s eyes follow her out of the room. “...you are good with Luc,” he rasps. His hand tightens on Essek’s arm. “How?”

Essek strokes Caleb’s fingers and slowly puts together an answer. “I do not think I am good with him. Why his parents allow me to occupy the same room with their son, I will never understand. So I am…careful. I am careful, not good.”

Caleb digs at his arms. His wool blazer shows the scratches, but it protects his skin unless he can get in under the sleeves. Essek holds his tongue and does not ask about the connection to Luc, though he has already formed some suspicions.

“I remember everything.”

“You are brilliant.” Essek wipes a tear from Caleb’s cheek.

“It’s a common name. I thought nothing of it.” Caleb holds onto Essek for dear life.

Ah… Essek had not wanted to be correct, but it seems he is. He slides into the small space between Caleb and the armrest. Caleb shys back at first, then curls close. “How did you know?” he asks.

“He looks like his mother. He has her eyes.” Caleb’s breath hitches in a weird, choking laugh. “I- I had her eyes, too. For a little while. I took them from her.”

Essek pulls Caleb’s head to rest against his chest, and Caleb disconnects again. Beau returns with tea, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

“May I tell Beauregard?” Essek asks. He waits. Caleb eventually squeezes his hand once, a long-established sign for ‘yes.’ Essek wets his lips. “If I understand correctly, one of his students has the same name and bears resemblance to a woman he… harmed.”

There is a delay, then Caleb flinches. Essek cards gentle fingers through his hair.

“Oh shit,” says Beau. Her eyes are very round, but her voice is soft.

“You may wish to ask that helpful student who he spoke to directly and compare the names to older records.”

“Oh shit…,” Beau repeats. She scrubs at her undercut and hangs her head a moment before standing up. “Caleb, man, I’ve got this, okay? I’m going to sort out this first part, and when you’re feeling better we can figure out what’s next.”

She sees herself out, locking up with Caleb’s spare key. Essek picks up the same book Beau found earlier, but he does not read aloud. Caleb drifts, and Essek holds him fast.

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

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years

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We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 8

A fic in which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and does his best to protect those coming after him from what he went through.

Content warnings: panic attacks, vomiting, food issues, medical trauma.

Chapter summary: Caleb has a bad day.

Notes: Chapter title is from Eight by Sleeping At Last again

****

Chapter 8: An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken

Caleb paid absolutely no attention to the walk through The Tangles back home, reliant on Caduceus’s gentle hand on his elbow. One foot on stone, then the next foot, then the first foot again, and the next. There was thunder, rumbling softly.

Beauregard was waiting at the front door. “Hey. Let’s get him upstairs.”

They followed her through the house. To one of the spare bedrooms on the middle floor. Yasha was there.

So was Essek. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut before he could fall apart.

“I sent a sneaky message while you drew the circle,” Caduceus said quietly. “Was that all right?”

Caleb nodded.

“We should get Nico’s coat and shoes off,” said Yasha. Caleb opened his eyes. Between Astrid and Essek casting Telekinesis, and Beau and Yasha helping, they managed to strip off his outer layers and find his spellbook to set on the table beside the bed. His spellcasting focus, a wand, was put into a drawer.

“I can get the ash off him,” said Essek, casting a few rounds of Prestidigitation until the ash was gone. Nico must have been closer to the house originally, and stepped back to hide. And then it was too much.

Essek crossed to Caleb and wordlessly began to lift the ash from him as well, while Wulf and Yasha lowered Nico into bed. Essek offered to help Astrid and Wulf clean up, but they mechanically took care of themselves. Beauregard was already clean; he had probably taken care of her first.

“I think I can help Nico,” Caduceus said. “However, I would not recommend doing it yet.”

Caleb couldn’t gather the words to protest, but Beauregard was already talking. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to explain that one, Caduceus.”

“He’s like this for a reason,” Caduceus replied. “If we bring him back too soon, he may respond poorly. Remember, whatever I do will probably lift the modified memories. That’s a lot.”

A rush of memories came flooding through Caleb’s brain. Too much input. Dizzy. Caleb excused himself, made it halfway down the hallway to the bathroom area, before vomiting on the floor. A hand rubbed his back, a soft incantation. The floor was clean now.

“Do you want to lie down?” Essek asked softly.

Caleb shook his head. Went back to the room. He hadn’t made it very far. They probably all knew.

“All right,” Astrid was saying. “Watch him overnight. We will return in the morning. I will make sure Felix is settled in the meantime.”

“Are you gonna tell him?” asked Beau.

Astrid pinched the bridge of her nose in a rare show of duress. “I may have to.”

Caleb cleared his throat; the voice that came out of him was weak, but audible. “Leave out Nico’s condition for now.”

Astrid nodded. “He’s safe. That’s all Felix needs to know until we fix this.”

Caleb could have told her that pulling Nico out of this state was nowhere near fixing anything, but that would have been too cruel. She was tired. They all were.

Astrid and Wulf left, both catching their gaze on Caleb for a few seconds on their way out.

“Caleb,” said Beau, “what time is it?”

“Twelve thirty-two.”

“Fuck.”

****

Beauregard sat with Nico while Yasha and Caduceus took over the kitchen. Yasha took two plates up to the room, while Caduceus pushed a plate towards Caleb. He still felt sick.

“I know,” Caduceus said when Caleb didn’t move to eat. “Just a few bites.”

He was right. Caleb knew he was right. He was going to feel worse when the last dregs of adrenaline left him if he didn’t have something in his belly. Caduceus had put some grilled vegetables with a slice of buttered toast in front of him. It was inoffensive enough that he could probably stand it.

He picked a few pieces of vegetable up with his hands. Took small bites. Ate slowly. Caduceus sat back, evidently satisfied, and dug into his own lunch. Essek hooked his ankle around Caleb’s while they ate.

After, Caleb took a cup of tea Caduceus made him and sat on the garden steps. A few drops of rain had begun to fall from the sky, but there was still time before it began to fall in earnest. Blumenthal was probably in the midst of it by now.

Maybe that was why Nico had decided to do this in broad daylight. He could have decided today was the day, only to panic when he realised there was a storm coming. Caleb’s thoughts were slippery. He couldn’t hold onto anything for long. It was probably for the best. If his mind was operating at its usual capacity, he would have fallen in a heap.

Caduceus sat with him for a bit, topping up his tea and sipping some of his own. “Nico is as settled as he can be. We’ll keep someone with him. You will rest.”

Caleb’s chuckle was not humorous at all. “We’ll see.”

They watched lighting crackle across the sky. Caleb counted the seconds until the thunder. Ein, zwei, drei, fier, fünf. The thunder rumbled. The storm was close. The rain grew more insistent, trickling and hissing around them. Caleb closed his eyes, letting the rain fall on him. Felt each little cold splash on his scalp, face, hands.

“We should get you inside,” said Caduceus, though he made no effort to drag Caleb to his feet.

“Nein. I like it here.”

“All right.” Caduceus’s voice was somewhere between amused and resigned. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Caleb felt his departure.

The rain thickened, and it became harder to count each individual drop on his skin. He let it wash over him: the shushing of the rain, the crystalline trickling of the drops hitting the house and sliding downward, dropping from any available surface.

It was easier to step outside himself when there was so much gentle sensory output to focus on aside from his own exhaustion-addled thoughts. The rain soaked him through, and the thunder roared, and his teeth chattered in the cold. And he felt a little more like a person.

He let himself drift for a time, until Caduceus returned, more insistent this time.

“All right, Caleb. That’s enough. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

Caleb let Caduceus pull him to his feet and lead him inside, where Essek floated, twisting his hands. Caduceus gently pushed the heavy, waterlogged coat from Caleb’s shoulders and Essek dropped to his knees, unlacing his boots and tugging them off one-by-one.

“There’s a hot bath waiting at your place,” said Caduceus, and he cast another low-level heal on Caleb, pulling some of the remaining aches and pains and scratches and bruises from the day out of him. “Essek will help if you need it.”

Essek set Caleb’s boots aside and straightened, delicately extending a hand as if asking for a dance. “Shall we?”

Lifting his arms felt like lifting a boulder, but Caleb slid his hand into Essek’s and let him lead the way. Through the house, through the middle door, through Caleb’s side to the small room set aside for the bathtub. Steam rose from the water in the wooden tub. The thought of going through all the effort of undressing and heaving himself into the bathtub was not appealing. He wasn’t sure he had strength of mind or body for such a task.

It was only when Essek touched his shoulder that Caleb realised he had been staring blankly at the bathtub for thirty seconds. Essek gently rubbed his thumb along Caleb’s collarbone at the neckline of his shirt.

“Do you want help?”

Caleb cleared his throat. “Ja. Bitte.”

Essek stepped in front of him and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Caleb drifted again, loosely aware of tugging motions, brushes of damp fabric against his skin, the influx of cold, dry air. Essek cupped his cheek after four minutes and twenty-three seconds.

“Are you ready? I will help you.” Essek, with Caleb’s mumbled consent, walked Caleb over to the tub and cast a spell that made him feel lighter. Essek scooped him up and lowered him into the bathtub, releasing the spell so he sank properly into the hot water.

The heat shocked Caleb back into his body, before it mellowed out as his skin thawed and became a comforting warmth instead. And Caleb realised that maybe he didn’t want to be comfortable at all. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be comfortable. Maybe the real reason he had sat out in the rain was because he wanted to feel the discomfort of wet clothes clinging to him, chill seeping into his bones.

Essek lathered up a sponge and took Caleb’s arm, slowly working soapy circles into his flesh. Caleb gritted his teeth and looked away. The movement stopped.

“Caleb, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Caleb shook his head. Essek hummed thoughtfully and resumed washing. It was around the time that Essek gently pushed him forward to wash his back that a rush of emotion smacked Caleb in the lungs. He pressed his wet fist to his mouth to dampen the sound of what may have been a groan or a sob or a scream. He didn’t know. Essek kissed his shoulder and finished washing him, leaning him backwards against the tub and lifting each of his legs in turn. Then, he set the sponge aside, rinsed his hands in the bathwater, shook them dry, and cupped Caleb’s face.

“Let’s sit here a moment,” he said quietly. “Then I will wash your hair and help you up.” He leaned forward and pressed his lip’s to Caleb’s forehead. “Thank you for letting me help.” Essek cradled Caleb’s head just below his, resting his chin on top. Caleb buried his face in Essek’s shirt. This gentleness was breaking him apart. He cried. Quietly, for now. Essek held him a little longer, until it stopped. Also for now.

Then Essek reached for a small jug at his side, filling it in a smaller tub of clean water. He carefully tilted Caleb’s head back and poured the water over his hair. He produced a little round tub of floral-scented paste that Caleb knew to be from Essek’s slowly dwindling stash of products from Rosohna. He wanted to say something about that, ask if he was sure he wanted to use it on him, but words were not his friend right now. Essek scooped out a coin-sized amount and rubbed it between his palms before digging his hands into Caleb’s hair. Caleb couldn’t feel a lot of lather as Essek rubbed it through his hair, but that was probably normal, he guessed.

“Your hair is quite long now,” Essek said. “We need to get you some better products, or you are going to keep getting split ends. You are far too handsome for that.” He filled the jug again and tipped Caleb’s head back, rinsing out the product. He had to do it a few times. It probably would have been easier if Caleb felt up to participating in this at all.

Finally satisfied, Essek set the jug aside and fetched a towel, gently drying Caleb’s hair a little bit. Then he stood, helped Caleb up.

“Do you think you can step out of the bath with my help?”

Caleb felt reasonably steady. He nodded. Essek gripped his hands, stepping back as Caleb lifted his leg and lowered it to the distant ground, steadying him as the other followed. Essek grabbed a second towel and wrapped it around Caleb, rubbing it against his skin. Caleb zoned out a bit while Essek dried him, numbly letting him lead him to the bedroom, where he sat on the bed in the towel while Essek dug through his drawers.

“I would just tuck you into bed naked, but it’s a little cold for that.” Essek’s hand stopped and he looked down, considering. “Ah, this will do.” He pulled out a soft cotton shirt Caleb wore to bed when anything else felt too harsh on his scars. Essek worked Caleb’s arms through and lifted them so he could pull the shirt down over Caleb’s head. It was long enough to reach his knees.

Then Essek pulled back the covers and gently maneuvered Caleb into bed. Caleb lay there, rubbing the patterns on the quilt. Essek sat beside him, pulling his spellbook from his Wristpocket and slowly leafing through the pages, keeping up a stream of quiet, one-sided conversation.

Caleb buried his face in the pillow. Over time, he was dimly aware of Beau, Yasha and Caduceus checking in on him. He paid it little mind, until Beauregard arrived with a tea tray.

“Hey, Cad made more tea. Want some?”

Essek softly closed his spellbook and returned it to its pocket plane. “Thank you, Beauregard.” He nudged Caleb. “Would you like tea?”

Caleb nodded, pushing himself into a sitting position with a great deal of effort. He hadn’t felt this fucked up in a long time from something that hadn’t literally knocked him unconscious (or dead). Beauregard handed him a mug, along with Essek.

“Is it okay if I…” She gestured to the third mug. She wanted to stay for a bit. Caleb nodded. She sat criss-cross applesauce on the end of the bed, staring into her mug. She looked deflated. Tired.

She had been through a lot today. Caleb wanted to thank her for it. “Beauregard.” The rest of the words stuck in his throat, leaving his mouth in a series of unintelligible stammers. He hadn’t done that in months.

Beauregard gave him a thin smile. “Hey, dude. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

He held out his arm and she ducked under it, giving him a quick squeeze before retreating to her spot again. Rubbed her eyes with the back of a hand.

****

Dinner was hard, but Caleb ate. He had more words now, at least. He used them to pull Essek aside after dinner.

“I should warn you,” he said. “Sleeping tonight may be an adventure.”

“How can I help?”

“That’s not what I was…” Caleb sighed. “You should know. I used to scream in my sleep. Before the Nein. Before Veth, even. I think it was a hangover from the sanatorium, but I don’t know for sure. The early days were…” Caleb didn’t like to think about the days after his escape, feeling like a bag of broken glass crudely taped together. Running until he couldn’t physically run anymore. Sleeping in little holes, only to wake in the night screaming from old-but-new-to-him memories and objectively new panic. “It’s… um. I might wake you.”

Essek rested his hands on Caleb’s fidgeting fingers. “Are you worried about inconveniencing me? I need less rest than you do, and I am here because I want to be here. I want to help you.” He slowly lifted Caleb’s chin, forcing his gaze away from the floor and to him. He looked sad. Caleb hated that. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I didn’t want to frighten you. Or the others, but I don’t know if I can…”

“Why don’t you talk to Caduceus?” Essek suggested. “Maybe he can help. I will talk to Beau and Yasha, so they are aware and do not come bursting into your room.”

Caleb chuckled. “Ja, I don’t want them to think I’m dying. Okay. I can handle Caduceus.”

He found Caduceus in Nico’s room, chatting quietly to the boy while he sipped a fresh cup of tea. He glanced up at Caleb. “Hey.”

Caleb cleared his throat. “How is he?”

“The same. He seems settled, at least. We’ve made him as comfortable as we can. I fed him soup earlier. Still has a swallow reflex.”

“Makes sense.” Caleb would have been dead if they hadn’t been able to feed him for eleven years.

“You seemed bothered when I suggested we wait til the morning.”

Caleb hadn’t spoken up about it, but he wasn’t exactly surprised Caduceus had noticed. He had made a rapid exit to vomit, after all. “Ja. I don’t… it was a personal issue. You made a good argument.” Caleb took a further step into the room; he felt heavy. He let his gaze drift to Nico. He was mostly still, eyes open, blinking occasionally. No indication he could hear them.

“He has gotten agitated a few times,” Caduceus said. “A Calm Emotions spell helps him settle. We’re looking after him.”

Caleb couldn’t think too hard about the difference there, or it would break him. He swallowed what few memories he had of that place. “And tomorrow? What’s the plan?”

“I wanted to check that with you.” Caduceus set his cup aside, stood up. “I know it’s hard, but what do you remember about the woman who healed you?”

“I believe she was once a cleric,” said Caleb. “From my research, and what I’ve seen you do, I’m fairly sure she used Greater Restoration. Because it knocked out the false memories as well. It was a lot.”

“All right. I will have that prepared.” He picked up his tea and took a sip. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just for a conversation we could have tomorrow.”

Fuck. It had been easier with Essek.

“I, uh, just wanted to…” Words were not Caleb’s friend today, and it took every ounce of self control not to cry out in frustration. “I did not have a good time when I escaped the sanatorium. I think I might regress a bit tonight. It’s a bit… in your face, I suppose.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I mainly wanted to… warn you. Essek is talking to the lesbians for me.” Okay, enough fucking around. Just say it. “I used to scream in my sleep.”

Caduceus kept a steady gaze on him. “All right. I’ll get you some of that sleepy tea before you go to bed and keep an ear out. If it sounds like you’re struggling, I can throw in a Calm Emotions spell. It only lasts a minute, but it might be enough to cut things off and let you rest.” He smiled gently down at Nico. “It works on him. Should work on you.”

“Danke.” Caleb was too choked up to say anything else.

****

It had been a long fucking day. Caleb had been exhausted for hours. It was finally a reasonable hour to sleep. Caduceus had brought him the tea as promised, gently guiding him into bed. Essek was trancing beside him, just for the moment, while Caleb drank his tea and tried to breathe deeply and calm the fuck down so he could try to sleep.

The tea was one of the blends Caduceus had been experimenting with for probably longer than Caleb had been alive. It was hard to say how old Caduceus was, since he didn’t know himself. Chamomile and lavender were the most prominent. The science was somewhat dubious, but the tea itself was comforting, and Caduceus had several different blends with a similar goal that he would rotate if one did not seem to work on someone. If this one didn’t help, Caduceus would probably come back with his lemon balm tea, or one of the others.

Caleb’s hands shook around the mug; Caduceus had given him one of the heavier, sturdier ones he had gifted to them. Essek shifted, eyes alert. He rested his hand on Caleb’s knee.

“Are you all right?”

The question hurt. Unexpectedly. He knew people cared about him. Maybe he didn’t feel deserving of that care right now. Maybe he felt like a bag of glass that would cut anyone who came too close. The world was blurring; his thoughts were too fast and dizzying and just too much. The weight of it all was going to suffocate him. He couldn’t breathe.

The cup was gone from his grip, replaced by Essek’s hands. He was saying something but Caleb couldn’t process the words. Distant. Underwater, maybe. Muffled in some way.

He collapsed, and landed in arms. Pressed his face against a shirt. Sobbed. Sobbed some more.

Caleb was typically a very controlled person. He had to be. Building rings of steel around him to hold the barrel of disaster intact. The rings were gone, and everything burst out. He couldn’t stop it. He had no control, no filter, like he was fresh out of the sanatorium and running on panic and rage and a gaping chasm of grief that threatened to overwhelm him with every passing second.

He cried like a child. Loud, all-consuming. Gasping. And he was held through it all. But it wasn’t stopping. He couldn’t stop it. His body heaved with the depth of the well from which this had all sprung.

He started to cough whenever he gasped in a breath. It was getting harder to breathe at all. Everything hurt.

A new hand on his shoulder. A wash of calm. He coughed again, trying to get his breathing back under control now that he could.

“You’re all right, Caleb,” said Caduceus, leaning over him. “You’ve got a minute. Take your time.”

Caleb leaned against Essek, who had probably been stroking his hair for quite some time. He breathed. Coughed a little. Breathe again. It was easier each time. Caduceus continued to steady him.

At the forty-five second mark, he was okay. Caduceus helped him drink some water. They lay him down, tucked him in. And the spell wore off. The wave of sadness and grief and frustration struck again, but he knew what was happening now. He had expected it. He breathed, squeezed both their hands.

“Get some rest,” Caduceus said. “I’ll stay here for a bit.”

Essek curled around him. Caduceus sat by the bedside. Caleb was exhausted and heavy. He drifted asleep. He woke once, disoriented, a scream in his throat. Another spell, and held hands and words of comfort pulled him back under.

The next thing he knew, he was blinking awake in the dim golden light of morning, head pillowed on Essek’s thigh as he read a book in Undercommon. And Caleb had made it through one of the worst nights he could remember having in a long time.

#caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #critical role #cr2 #fanfiction #my fics #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic

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analisegrey · 2 years

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well hi, y’all

It’s been a bit since I’ve posted anything...I’ll be honest, I’ve been a bit burnt out, lately, but damnit, I miss writing/publishing things.

So.

Of the following, which should I work on first? (see below the cut for snips/summaries, and let me know what you all want- assuming you want me to write anything, of course).

1. Sweat for It- Widomauk Exercise fic

“Lies, Caleb. That sucked just as much as I remembered.”

“Well, that is because we haven’t actually begun your program, yet.” Caleb jots something else down quickly, then tucks the notepad away again. “Our goal for you will be to see improvement each week in how long you can hold each position. We can start out with two nights a week, or three, depending on how you feel, and we will measure each week on the same day, for consistency’s sake.”

“Sounds like a plan, I guess. Though I can’t imagine how you think-” Molly’s words stumble to a halt as Caleb goes to the bag and pulls a few things out, and Molly’s brain tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.

In one of Caleb’s hands is what Molly is pretty certain is a Hitachi magic wand, and in the other is some sort of tiny black device that he doesn’t recognize. When Molly flicks his confused gaze back up to Caleb, it’s to find him smiling smugly at him again.

“Where would you like to start, schatz? Bridges-” he says, holding up the Hitachi. “-or planks?” as he holds up the small black thing.

2. Consentacles Shadowgast fic

“I suppose you're going to tell me this isn't what it looks like?”

“Nein, it is exactly what it looks like.”

Essek blinks, thinking that maybe he’s imagining things but when he looks again, no, the tentacles are still there, waving and writhing gently against the sheets of the bed, fanned out around where Caleb’s sitting.

He opens his mouth, then closes it, completely at a loss. He tries again.

“...but why?”

Smiling, Caleb stands, and Essek intends to watch his face, he does, but he can’t stop looking at the mass of tentacles that sway and move as Caleb approaches. Eventually, Caleb is standing right in front of him, and Essek has to look up again.

“Because I was browsing through the bedroom bookcase the other day-”

“Oh Light above-” Essek mutters, face flashing warm and ears swiveling down in embarrassment.

“-and I noticed a certain theme among some of your books,” Caleb finishes saying, voice exceedingly gentle.

“It- I-” Gods, there’s no good explanation, is there? “The first one was an accident; I didn’t know what it was. And well, the author is...good.”

“Mmhmm.” Caleb steps a little closer and Essek startles at the brush of a questing tentacle against his arm. “If this is unwelcome, all you have to do is say the word, and I will drop the spell.”

Swallowing, Essek’s tongue darts out to wet his lips before speaking again.

“And- and if it isn’t? Unwelcome, I mean.”

“If it’s not unwelcome,” Caleb says, voice dropping lower. “Then we can explore more of where your interests may lie.”

3. Sequel to Research Method

There's something delicious about well-wrought revenge, especially when the person it's being visited upon has a hand in their own comeuppance.

Setting his book down, Essek plucks a couple grapes from the platter on the end table at his side and rises, moving across the room. When designing his own dimensional residence, he'd taken a few notes from the build of Caleb’s Tower- a dining area big enough for all his friends, comfortable accommodations for the same, and a large- and malleable- library space with a grand fireplace.

Crossing the seating area, Essek comes to a stop near the fireplace, looking down at where Caleb's waiting.

Strapped to the same type of split saddle he'd had Essek on just a couple of weeks ago, Caleb squirms and writhes, trying to beg past the gag in his mouth. If Essek were to remove the blindfold obscuring Caleb’s vision, he's near-certain Caleb’s eyes would be wide and pleading.

Instead, he kneels down and taps at the small vibrating stone harnessed between Caleb’s legs and revels in the sudden increase of intensity and pitch of Caleb’s begging, Caleb’s hips trying to roll down, his thighs flexing uselessly against the saddle.

4. A Friendly Wager- Widjord smut, part of the Love is a Sacrament series

“Really, Caleb? Really?”

Looking over from where he’s working on setting things up, Caleb laughs at the look of betrayal on Fjord’s face.

“What is the matter? I can keep track relatively easily, but I know you cannot, and wanted to help-”

“‘Help’ my ass-” Fjord mutters, holding up the small cat-shaped timer in his hands. He sets it for a few seconds and scowls harder when it meows at him as it hits zero. “I am hurt, Caleb. Deeply hurt.”

Snorting, Caleb shakes his head and goes back to what he’s doing, climbing up on the bed and arranging the immovable rod where he wants it. “If you are so deeply wounded, Fjord, you may feel free to forfeit now. You know I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“Like hell I’m going to do that.” Fjord glowers at the timer again before setting it down on the nightstand. “Besides, I know what you’re trying to do. You think you can distract me; well it won’t work.

“I have no need to distract you, schatz. I will win fair and square.”

“Mmhmm.” Fjord finishes undressing, tossing his clothes into a pile across the room where he knows the Tower’s cats will find them and turns, looking up at Caleb with a smirk. “You sound so sure. Have you already forgotten you lost last time we had one of our little wagers?”

Expression turning mildly disgruntled, Caleb sniffs.

“Only because you cheated.”

“That is a vile and baseless accusation.”

“And yet, it’s true.”

“Just because you weren’t up to what I could dish out, Widogast, doesn’t mean that I cheated.”

5. cleanup of a Ronin Warrior fic

This would be a cleanup of one of the very first fics I ever wrote, for the Ronin Warrior/Yoroiden Samurai Troopers fandom. It was the first multi-chapter fic I ever wrote, and having rescued it from the depths of the internet time machine thing, it would take a bit of polishing before I’m willing to unleash it back on the world. I’ll do it, though, if you’d like. Also one of my very first whumpish pieces.

And that’s it for now. What say you? (since I’m so damned indecisive...)

#analise speaks #fic roulette #what the hell do I write?

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