18 Works by saturdaysky
Listing Works
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For all he claims no affinity with his kind, there is a certain vanity with which Thelyss keeps his braids. History and status, twisted into a fine display.
But he is a practical creature. He will make good use of Ludinus' gifts.
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discretion by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi), saturdaysky
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
23 Jan 2023
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Like this, Essek is a partially-wrapped gift. Caleb has many ideas for how to unwrap him fully from right here, kneeling between satin-clad thighs. Not satin-clad for long, maybe, if Essek keeps saying his name like that. If he will let Caleb give him what he wants.
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Caleb shuts the door against the afternoon sun, sealing them into comfortable privacy. The curtains on his windows are likewise shut, but light seeps through them anyway, casting the room in a warm, muted glow. Dimmed daylight will gather here for hours; like a little bubble of sunset just for us, supplies his mind. He is too glad to resist whimsy. Essek's visits always make him so.
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After a spellwork accident, Caleb slips through time. Centuries in the future, Essek Thelyss is waiting to catch him.
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Avalir falls. Architect Arcane Caleb Widogast and Keeper of Scrolls Essek Thelyss go down with the ship.
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- Part 1 of sinking star
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Essek's shoulders are tense in a way that's gonna ache later, his frame drawn tight against the endless blue sky above the bay. He leans on the salt-crusted railing and stares out at the armada gathered for the peace talks.
"I am still a Thelyss," he whispers in Undercommon. "They cannot take that from us." To Beau's ears, it sounds like a prayer.
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Shadowhand Essek Hythenos celebrates a victory, and Beau untangles a truth.
[au where Den Thelyss was purged pre-canon]
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“You shouldn’t want me this way,” Caleb growls, low and bestial in a way that stokes the slow-burning fire in Essek’s gut. There is desperate loathing in his voice, but he knows why he is here in Essek’s bedroom, just as Essek does.
“I want you all ways,” Essek replies, loosening the ties on his collar and working his way down. The fabric of his robe parts slowly. Caleb’s eyes immediately pin themselves to the growing triangle of skin. “Anything you wish to give.”
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Under a wild red moon, a witch waits for a wolf.
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In a decaying timeline, Caleb meets Essek as a child.
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Caleb watches. Calculates cost, and what can be borne, and what will be left after. Hopes that the Nein will forgive him. Hopes, too, that they arrive soon enough for that to matter.
"You run from it," Trent is saying, gentle, "but there is always a home for you here. Say the word, and it will be yours."
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Caleb does not make it free at the end of the Vergessen heist. Trent offers him a choice.
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Ikithon’s voice presses softly into his head. I’m pleased you made use of him. You were always talented at bending others to your goals. Even far from home, you make me proud.
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Old habits are hard to break, even if you have shed the skin that formed them.
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The Umavi receives an unexpected petitioner seeking solace from grief. As ever, Deirta provides clarity. As ever, Essek chafes at the impossible.
Perfection has a high cost. She can give her son its hard-won lessons, and too, he has forgotten: there was a time before she knew the Luxon. There was a time before she was perfect.
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the other things that make us by saturdaysky for LadyOrpheus
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
22 Aug 2021
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Essek returns, when he can, to the sanctuary of Caleb's home. The peace of it is a balm against the tedious peril of the road, which has more misery to share than Essek had ever thought. It's nice to have a place where he can lose himself: in a book, in arcane study, in the confusing allure of Caleb's smile.
It's nice. And the cats miss him, Caleb says.
Series
- Part 1 of the other things that make us
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Essek gifts Caleb some culturally-inappropriate attire, much to Caleb's delight.
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Essek met his gaze, waiting. He looked fetchingly well-kissed.
Caleb answered. “Your lips move when you read, were you aware?”
Essek drew back, brows furrowing slightly, as if offended there could be an aspect of his presentation that was out of his control and worse, endearing. “They do not.”
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Jester sends Essek an advanced copy of her new novel, Tusk Love 2: Even Tuskier. Caleb gets some ideas.
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"There were others," Caleb whispers, eyes falling shut, "who could have been you. Our foe, the pretty monster with the face of my old friend. He made me angry. He was presumptuous and tricky and he called me attractive, and still it was you in my thoughts."
You make me angry, he doesn't say, because it is only partly true. Essek makes him many things, and anger is only one log on the fire. A twig against the burn of everything else about him Caleb cannot escape thinking about.
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A stolen moment before the Nein set out for Aeor. There's a gap between what you want and what you can have, sometimes.
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"It is a pleasure to see you again, Master Thelyss," Trent says in an entreating voice. "It has been so long! Imagine my surprise when my Volstrucker found you skulking about the Biting North."
The spell does not compel a reply, so Essek does not dignify this false pleasantry with a rejoinder.
Trent smiles and takes a sip of his wine. It shines ruby red in the dim gold of the candlelight.
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Trent abducts Essek after the Nein's break in at Vergesson. They have a conversation about a mutual pupil over dinner.
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The night is peaceful. There is a dome, safe and warm. There is the hush of sleep, settled and content.
And there are two wizards getting busy in the corner, trying not to wake the others.
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“I care for you, Caleb,” Essek says suddenly, as Caleb walks towards the door to the rest of the outpost. “I expect nothing from it, but, ah. We are heading into peril tomorrow, and...honesty is a new habit.”
There’s a bitter edge of amusement beneath his words.
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A conversation after the Nein return to Eiselcross, the day before the expedition. Feelings are hard for the unlovable.