criticalkink | CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

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CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

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Post each prompt as a new comment to the main post. Include pairing (or threesome or more if that's your thing) and anything else you want to add. You should put, at the very least, the pairing in the subject line along with a specific kink if it applies. You can put the whole prompt in the subject if it will fit, but if it doesn't, use the comments. For example:

Subject line: Beauregard/Jester, friends to lovers

Body of comment: Jester's been letting Beau use her for sparring practice. That kind of proximity does things to a tiefling.

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"Punches and Pastries, Jester/Beauregard, M, 1/3"

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(Warning for disordered eating as well as information that reframes previous instances of refusing to eat as such. Also, I don't think Caduceus actually has Remove Curse, but that's what he's using for fic purposes! It can be used to dispell Modify Memory.)

---

Caleb Widogast has a very good memory, even where his mind is not inclined to cooperate. The body remembers what the mind does not. And, sometimes, one kind of memory leads in to the other.

---

He calls himself a coward, but that’s never sat quite right with Fjord. Caleb’s afraid of things, sure, and sometimes it even gets in the way. But he’s not afraid without cause. The main fact is that those causes aren’t always readily apparent.

It’s not obvious, for example, why Caleb would make a pitiful little sound when Fjord grabs him by both shoulders to shake him awake. Why he turns his head to one side as if baring his neck and otherwise goes limp.

“What did you do to him?!” Nott demands. “Is it a spell? Undo it!” Needless to say, she’s not best pleased by the situation.

“Was ist los?” Caleb mutters as he wakes. “Did I miss something?” He props himself up on his elbows. He’s breathing a little fast, but he seems fine. ‘Seems’ is the operative word. Fjord knows there’s more there. Something he should look into; something he should try to learn about.

“You got all floppy, like a doll,” Jester says. “Are you okay? I can heal you, if you’re not.”

“I’m fine,” Caleb says. He rubs a hand down the side of his face. “I’m fine,” he repeats. Fjord doesn’t think anyone else is convinced by it, either. “Just a strange feeling, before I was all the way awake. Maybe part of a dream.”

“It happened when Fjord touched you,” Nott points out. She cuts a suspicious look in his direction. Fjord rolls his eyes a little and holds up his hands placatingly.

“I’m used to sleeping on my side, I think,” Caleb says. “So I was a little, ah -- verwirrt? As you can tell.” He smiles wryly. There’s a little twitch to it, like his lips want to tremble underneath the expression. “Confused, I mean to say.”

“Yeah, okay,” Beau says. She sounds as skeptical as Fjord feels; as skeptical as Nott looks. But none of them force the point. Jester can’t help herself at dinner, though, when Caleb turns down his third meal in a row.

“Caleb, you have to eat!” she says, and points at him with her spoon. “Or if you’re sick, you have to let us take care of you!”

“I have no appetite today,” he says. “It’s nothing, Jester. I’ll eat when I’m hungry.”

“If you don’t want stew, we can make you something else,” she insists. “A calm food, like -- I don’t know. Oats? Do we have oats?”

“For the horses, but I don’t think those are people food,” Beau says. “We could do rice, though.”

“Thank you, no,” Caleb says firmly. He stands up. “I should set up the alarm. It will be dark soon.”

“Why is he like this?” Jester fumes.

“Hmm,” Caduceus says. “I get the feeling he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, no shit, even I’m getting that feeling,” Beau says.

Caleb does come back to sit with them, though, after he’s set up his thread.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s fine,” Nott says. She sounds upset, though. “It’s your business.”

“It is, but --” Caleb presses a hand to his forehead and shakes his head. “I’ve felt strange all day. I think it has to do with…” He trails off. The rest of them wait. Even Beau, even Jester. They wait until he’s ready. “When I was a boy, after I was punished, I was sometimes not allowed to eat for a day,” he says. “To let the lesson sink in. To give me time to think about it.”

“Oh, Caleb,” Jester says. She sounds sad. Fjord would bet she’s never gone to bed hungry, except maybe on the road with them. She doesn’t know how goddamn normal this is, for most kids, either as punishment or just rationing out what little there is. “You know you didn’t do anything wrong, don’t you? And we want you to eat! No one here would take your food from you!”

“No, of course,” Caleb says. “But it was not… enforced, after the first few times. It was something I knew was expected. And the strange feeling, it’s like knowing I’ve had my punishment and I should meditate on it.” He passes a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know why. It’s been many years.” Fjord puts a hand on his shoulder, and Caleb flinches. More than that, he presses one hand tightly over his mouth.

They don’t talk about it again.

---

Beau’s on watch when Caleb wakes up. He does it with a heaving gasp, like surfacing from deep water without the benefit of a spell to keep him breathing.

“You okay over there?” she says, in the softest voice she thinks will carry far enough to reach him.

“Fine,” he says.

“Nightmare?” Beau asks. Caleb says nothing. “I mean, as opposed to your alarm spell waking you up.”

“No, that is fine,” Caleb says. “It was… something like a nightmare.” He sits up and turns toward what’s left of the fire. It's burned down to embers, though Beau’s been feeding it a twig now and then. It's better to have a bed of coals to build back up to cook breakfast in the morning, in case Caleb's not the first one awake. Nobody can ever seem to find the damn tinderbox with the flint in it. What's left of the fire isn't throwing too much light, but Beau's goggles mean it doesn't matter much to her. It means she can probably see what Caleb's doing better than he can.

What he's doing is unwrapping his left wrist. And when she strains to hear it, she realizes he's murmuring to himself. She doesn't catch the whole thing, but she gets pieces. I should have noticed a scar and then shallow, wasn't it, there might not have been and, voice rising in volume almost to normal speech, a dream, a dream, it doesn't have to mean anything, it is not memory or the spirit walking out but just what the brain does…

“You want to talk about it?” Beau says. On the one hand, it sounds like he's having a really bad time, so she should offer. On the other, she's not sure she actually wants to hear about it.

“Not really,” Caleb says. He’s not looking at her. He's re-wrapping his wrist and hand, slowly. Beau thinks: Molly would have known what to do. He’d probably have said something wildly inappropriate along the way, but he would have gotten to the right point in the end. Molly’s not here now. Molly's never going to be here to look after Caleb again, and Beau doesn't know what the fuck to do if Caleb doesn't give her some kind of cue.

Which he doesn't. She keeps an eye on him until he lays back down to go to sleep. It's the best she can do.

---

“Do you have anything herbal to help with sleeping?” Caleb says. It’s the first watch of the night, barely full dark, but the road has worn everyone down. Those not on watch have fallen hard into sleep.

“Well, there are a number of different things that could help,” Caduceus says. He's been hoping Caleb might ask him for help, or at least ask someone for help, because he isn't doing well and the whole group is feeling it. Beau's shorter-tempered than usual; Fjord is trying to ignore it to keep moving forward and feeling guilty for that; Jester is overcompensating for the collective low mood. Nott is snappish and clingy by turns.

And Caleb --

Caleb's eating less than usual, and he doesn't eat much to begin with. He avoids touch as much as possible. He talks to himself in the company of others, as though he's forgotten that he's not alone. And then, of course, there's the fact that he hasn't been sleeping through the night.

“It depends on why you’re not sleeping,” Caduceus goes on. “There are things that will settle your stomach, or get rid of a headache, or help with anxiety…” He’s running a little low on that last blend. He's been drinking it a lot himself.

“Anything for dreamless sleep?” Caleb says with a weak smile.

“Not specifically,” Caduceus says. “Something you want to talk about?”

“I don't think so,” Caleb says. He doesn't sound sure. Caduceus waits. “There are bad dreams that I’m used to,” Caleb goes on hesitantly. “But lately I’ve been having dreams that are… different. They have the quality of memory, but I don’t know if they ever happened, or if they’re something my mind created because it’s what I fear might have happened.”

“Fear’s a powerful thing,” Caduceus says. He would say more, but Caleb speaks up unexpectedly.

“Fear acts on everyone the same way. He’s like a little child,” he says dully. “Children learn to fear the rod before they understand punishment. Being afraid doesn’t mean he understands.”

“Who are you talking about, Mr. Caleb?” Caduceus says.

“Myself,” Caleb says. “That is, if I remember right -- if I didn’t fabricate the memory -- they were talking about me.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Caduceus says.

“The beginning,” Caleb repeats. He folds his hands in his lap and looks down at them. “The first thing you need to know is that I was put in an institution when I was a young man. I had done things -- things had been done to me -- that my mind couldn’t take. So I was there for a number of years, and I remember very little of that time.” It doesn’t sound like the beginning of a story. It sounds like the middle. Still, it’s where Caleb thinks it’s important to start. Caduceus nods his understanding. “Lately, I have had… involuntary reactions. Dreams. A number of suggestions pointing toward the possibility that I was taken advantage of during that time.” His tone has gone flat, formal-sounding. “I assume you know what that phrase implies, but if not, I can go into more detail.”

“I lived in the woods, Mr. Caleb, not under a rock,” Caduceus says. It startles Caleb into laughing -- such a small sound that Caduceus almost misses it. “Though I’m not a big fan of the term. Sounds too polite for what it means.”

“That’s the long and short of it, then,” Caleb says. “I don’t know if these things happened, and I don’t know how to find out, and I don’t know what I can do now to, to snap myself out of the way I’ve been.” He snaps his fingers as if to illustrate the point and looks up at Caduceus. “I’m no good to anyone like this.”

“Well, I’d disagree with that,” Caduceus says. “So let’s skip that part and work back from there. Does it matter if it really happened if it’s still affecting you this way?”

“Yes,” Caleb says, immediately and vehemently. He looks back down at his hands, as though ashamed. He’s silent a long moment before he goes on. “Before the institution -- the asylum -- my memory was tampered with in order to help convince me to do something. To do the worst thing I have ever done. Being able to trust my memories is very important to me.”

“Hmm,” Caduceus says. “Well, there are a couple of different spells that would help if your memory has been changed with magic again, but if it’s just something your mind has done on its own… I don’t know if they’ll do any good.”

“Ja, I thought it might be something like that,” Caleb says.

“Couldn’t hurt to try,” Caduceus says. “It’s the end of the day. I’ve still got some healing left.”

“No, I think -- no. Better to save it in case we’re attacked, something for the good of the group,” Caleb says. Caduceus bites back a sigh.

“If you think this isn’t affecting everyone else, you’re being very self-centered.” Caleb looks up, bewildered. “Let me give it a try.” Caleb nods. He fixes his gaze somewhere around Caduceus’ shoulder and holds still. He flinches a little when Caduceus rests a hand on top of his head, but he doesn’t move. Caduceus murmurs a prayer. He waits. “Anything?”

“No,” Caleb says. “And thank you. It’s a little bit of a relief to know that no one else has changed my memory, even if it doesn’t solve the problem.”

“Is there anything you think might help?” Caduceus says. He takes his hand off of Caleb’s head. Caleb shrugs and pulls his coat closer around him.

“Some things you have to live with,” he says. “I’ve learned to live with worse. The difference is that they didn’t come upon me suddenly like this. They were always there. It’s just strange, to find an old wound you didn’t know was there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that this isn’t new for you,” Caduceus says. Because what else can he say?

“It is what it is,” Caleb says. “I’ll get it under control.” He looks down at his hands again, rubs over the bandages around his wrists. “I was young, you know? I used to be handsome. That must have been why.” Someday, Caduceus will tell Caleb that he’s still handsome, but now isn’t the time to say it. It wouldn’t help. It might even hurt.

“The way I understand it, most things like that are less about desire and more about power,” Caduceus says instead.

“You’re probably right,” Caleb says. Then: “We’re not doing a good job of keeping watch, are we?”

“No, we’re not,” Caduceus says. “I’ll make us some tea, and we can get to it.” He settles on a blend that’s mostly rosemary. He was never entirely sure that the rosemary would winter over, but in general, it did. It does. It’s hardier than it looks.

This is incredible and I’m SUPER impressed. Hits all the right notes. I’ve tried and failed to get that very delicate mix of titillation and catharsis right while writing non-con about characters I love. So, kudos.

This is an absolutely masterful fic. The POV for the first two sections is so skin-crawling and well-written, especially how you flesh out that Caleb is just one in a line of victims. And poor Caleb! I loved reading the workers' speculation on who he'd been before, and how it contrasted and complimented what we the readers know about him.

And I especially loved that you ended with a present-day section, because it helped ease the (deliciously well-crafted) heartache a bit. I loved everyone trying but not really knowing how to help him, and that Caduceus gets the closest to fixing things. And I just loved the last few lines!

Hooooooooooly shit. Holy shit. This is absolutely chilling and so beautifully done. My heart was breaking for Caleb the entire way through, and I loved every painful minute of it. The point of view of Andras is so perfect--straightforward and a little removed in a way that makes the things happening that much more chilling and vivid. Seriously, there's all these little touches to his narration that paint such a vivid picture of the asylum--Andras's relationship with the other attendants, the routine of the asylum, his awareness of the different kinds of customers that come for Caleb, the difference in social station of the workers. That running line of Caleb earning them new boots. OOF. Oof. What a gut punch. Honestly, this entire fic is just one precisely-placed gut punch after another, and it never gets any less gripping and horrifying. Meg is such a vividly-drawn counterpart to Andras--god, her seeming sweetness in combination with her impersonal brutality is so fucking chilling. And the descriptions of the different customers wanting different things from Caleb are so horrifying and vivid and so believable. Just. Ahhhhhh so good.

And THIS: Andras most wants Caleb like this. A warm body next to his, dependent. Helpless. He doesn’t want to do anything about it, to take it any further, but there’s a strange satisfaction in knowing that it would be easy because Caleb trusts him. Holy fuck. I mean, it's so good because it makes so beautifully explicit what's been underpinning Andras's narration the entire time.

And the section in the present day with the Nein!! Oh my god. So, so good. I love the gradual process of Caleb trying to piece together what's been done to him, and the added painfulness of not being sure if his memory was modified, or if this really happened to him. I love your voice for everyone (Ahh that observation about going hungry as a child in Fjord's pov. Geez that's good.), but especially Caleb. The remove that Caleb has from himself feels so true, and as with the previous sections, the understatement and straightforwardness of your prose just makes things even more vivid. And just. Beau feeling helpless but keeping an eye on Caleb as best she can. Caduceus so aware of the strain on Caleb and how it's affecting the group, but not pushing Caleb to talk to him until he feels ready. And god, that entire conversation between Caleb and Caduceus is pitch-perfect, with Caleb frighteningly straightforward with what has happened to him and Caduceus letting him talk while lightly guiding the conversation--it aches in the absolute best way.

Just, this bit: “Some things you have to live with,” he says. “I’ve learned to live with worse. The difference is that they didn’t come upon me suddenly like this. They were always there. It’s just strange, to find an old wound you didn’t know was there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that this isn’t new for you,” Caduceus says. Because what else can he say?

Heartbreaking and gorgeous.

He was never entirely sure that the rosemary would winter over, but in general, it did. It does. It’s hardier than it looks.

And such a beautiful, bittersweet and hopeful last line. Just. This is such a beautifully done, beautifully painful thing. I loved every bit of it.

Hi, author-anon here, and I just wanted to thank you so much for this comment. I hold every comment/reply I get near and dear to my heart, but I don't reply to all of them, especially on kink memes -- except to occasionally address a specific point or concern. (Because I don't want to clutter up comment threads, mostly. And then a little bit because I sometimes feel self-centered talking about my writing process in a setting that's anonymized by design. Nobody's here to hear my thoughts! We're all just here to get weird, and that's chill as hell.)

But in well over a decade of writing fanfiction, this is probably the longest and most in-depth comment I've ever gotten. I was absolutely floored by it and I wanted to express my appreciation. The fact that you would take the time to go into this amount of detail about what you enjoyed means a lot to me. I'm honored that you liked it so much, and grateful that you'd let me know. And it's very useful to hear what kinds of details held the greatest weight and had the most impact, for future writing ventures!

Anyway, sorry for rambling, but this was just really great to read (and I've reread it several times now, haha). So, thanks.

This is such an amazing story. I'm as floored as every other anon before me – this piece is *amazing* enough to the point that it'd be as great as a standalone piece as it is fanfiction. Not only you managed to have a grasp of the already existing characters, which makes it all more delicious (Caduceus there, by the end? P E R F E C T I O N. He's one of the most mysterious, hard to grasp characters EVER and you did him more than justice), but also, like… The villains? The helper that tried aiding Caleb while also being paid to do that? I think it was very brave (and very insightful) of you to use their POV, and they became such fully fleshed characters, so interesting, they added *so much* to the story that, even being all terrible people, I enjoyed reading through their POV... like... LOTS.
Thank you so much for this piece. It hit all the right spots for me, like one of the previous anons' said before me. I love fanfiction about terrible, terrible things, that manage to be clever, not overtly melodramatic, and still kinda a bit sexy in a voyeuristic -- woah, I love to watch my faves suffering -- kind of way. I mean, this is really all kinds of brilliant, in any way you look at it. Being a fully fledged story, with good pacing, lovely wording, and interesting writing choices? Having a deep understanding of characters, whoever they might be? And also, yeah, is it totally about my fave in a scenario that tickles my fancy?
(Check, check and check!)
A++++++ work. Just. *chef's kiss* delicious.

Hello i need to butt in here as well, this fic is absolutely fantastic!!! You are an incredible author and this chilled me to the bones, i have no words, this is such a masterpiece.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3

Re: fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3

Re: fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3

Re: fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3

Re: fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3

Re: fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3

Re: fill: "to be still," Caleb/others, E, forced prostitution, cw: noncon, 3/3