CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

[criticalkink]

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Welcome to the kink meme for Critical Role!

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What is a Kink Meme?
It's pretty simple. You post a prompt and your fellow fans get inspired and write fic based on that prompt. As it is a "kink" meme, a great deal of fic will be of the smutty variety, so if you aren't into that or not of a porn-reading age, this place won't be for you. Not all fic has to be smutty, but it does have to be kinky.

Clarification: This is a kink meme, therefore prompts must be kink-based. It is not a general prompting/headcanons meme. There have been a couple of people confused by that, so we're just making it extra clear.

Please only post one prompt per comment so to avoid any confusion.

How do I prompt?
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.

I see a prompt I want to write! What now?
Go for it! You don't have to claim it, and fills can be written by more than one person. Once you've finished you must post it as a response to the original comment. Responses should use a subject line that includes the pairing, rating & any necessary warnings (i.e. incest, non-con, etc.). If you have titled your fic you can also include that. Also, as LJ limits the size of comments, if your fic goes into multiple comments, please note that your comment is part 1/5, part 2/5 and so on. Using the prompt above, the subject line could read:

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

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• RPF is also allowed, but please prompt it over here!
  
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The most important rule of all? HAVE FUN.


Now go forth and prompt!

Comments

fill: "a field too long lain fallow," Caleb-centric a/b/o, pre-polyNein, M, 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

(Warning for some stuff about Nott's alcoholism in this part.)

---

“I got something that should actually help you sleep,” Nott said, “but I want you to wait until it’s closer to dusk to take it, so you’ll sleep through the night. How does that sound?”

“Much too reasonable,” Caleb said mildly. “I will defer to you, since I am in your charge.” His eyes were downcast. He looked less pale than before, but a thin sheen of sweat was starting to appear on his skin. “I would suggest reading in the meanwhile, but I think my mind is too scattered to get much work done.”

“I could read to you,” Nott said. “Probably not anything spell-related,” which seemed like asking for trouble, with spells that only had a verbal component, “but maybe a novel or something.”

“If you can find one that has no sex at all, maybe, but with Jester’s tastes…” Caleb shrugged.

“Hang on,” Nott said. “I’ve got a ringer.” She took a bit of wire from her pocket at twisted it. “Fjord, there’s a bookstore two blocks over, and Caleb wants a novel with no sex in it; I repeat, NO SEX; you-can-reply-to-this-message.”

Uh, okay, copy that. No sex. Any other specifics I should look out for? Fjord’s voice came through in her mind, sounding a little breathless. Maybe he’d run back from the stables.

“Any genre preference?” Nott said to Caleb, who shrugged. She cast Message again. “Probably historical fiction, maybe something long and sort of boring with a family tree at the beginning.”

I’ll see what I can do for you. And, uh, I’ll just knock on his door when I -- fuck, Molly, do you ever knock?

“Fjord’s going to get something for you,” Nott said. She hopped back off the bed and motioned for Caleb to pass the tray to her, which he did. She set it on the floor. The broth and roll would both be cold by the time they ate them later, but she was pretty sure she remembered how to heat them back up with magic. Prestidigitation. One of the easy spells.

“Yes, something ‘long and sort of boring,’ I heard,” Caleb said. He smiled again, but it seemed more forced.

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay,” Nott said. She joined him on the bed again and cupped his face in her hands. He let out a shuddering sigh, his expression falling into something almost mournful.

“I should have told you,” he said. “I know I should have. But I thought this was all over, and it wouldn’t matter, and it would only have made you think less of me.”

“Caleb, look at me,” Nott said. He did. It broke her heart to see the trepidation in his gaze. “I don’t care, okay? I don’t give a single shit.” He laughed wetly in response. No tears in his eyes, but there was the sound of them in his throat. “I don’t think the others really do, either, but I can’t speak for them. I can only say that it doesn’t matter to me. It never would have.”

“Thank you,” he said. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. His skin was warm, warmer than usual, but not hot. They stayed close like that for a long moment before Caleb pulled back. “I’m going to lie back down, I think.”

“Drink some water first,” Nott said. Caleb obeyed. Too quietly, too easily, but he did. He was settled in, staring listlessly at the ceiling, when there was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” Nott called.

“Just me,” Fjord answered. “Got you a book.” He handed it through when she cracked the door open. The cover was battered, but had once been embossed in silver. A Border Shepherdess. The frontispiece had an engraving of a human girl surrounded by goats, standing on a hill. “Not quite as weighty as what you asked for, but there’s nothing real explicit in there. Seemed like a nice story.”

“Thanks,” Nott said. “I’ll pay you back later.” Fjord shrugged.

“No need. I might want to read it when y’all are done with it, though,” he said. It didn’t look like it would be quite Fjord’s style, but hell, what did she know? Nott nodded and closed the door. Bolted it, too, before Caleb had to remind her. She sat next to him on the bed and started to read.

It was about a girl who lived in the mountains north of Rexxentrum falling in love with another girl from the city itself. The city girl was just visiting family, and she was more well-off, so it seemed destined to be a summer romance. They held hands and stared at some scenic vistas and then the city girl went home. But that was just the very first part. Suddenly the shepherdess had inherited a fortune from some estranged great-uncle, and the social imbalance with her old flame was in her favor. It was at this point that Caleb asked her to stop reading.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t -- I am not absorbing any of this, really.”

“It’s okay,” Nott said. “The book’s not going anywhere.” And neither am I, she thought to herself. “Do you want to play cards? I have Beau’s deck.” Borrowed without permission from her voluminous pockets, but Nott fully intended to return them. And anyway, these were extenuating circumstances.

“No, I don’t think -- I’m trying to be honest, here, that I am not quite myself and that there are things I cannot do right now --” Caleb said. He had turned on his side while she read to him, so now he was staring at the far wall rather than the ceiling. “Entschuldigung.” Nott knew what that meant, but he barrelled on. “No, that’s not right, I mean to say that I apologize; I am a citizen of the Empire and I should speak its language, I am not a child anymore --” He sounded so stricken that Nott put a hand on his shoulder without thinking. He flinched as if he’d been struck. He did that sometimes after waking from bad dreams, but almost never when he was fully awake.

“It’s just me, Caleb,” Nott said. Abronsius had said he might get confused, from taking the wrong elixir. This wasn’t about her. This wasn’t about her, but she always hated it when he seemed afraid of her. (Like everyone else was.) “You can speak Zemnian if you want to. There’s nothing wrong with that. I just might need you to teach me a spell to help me understand you.”

“Nott,” Caleb said. “I know.” The way he relaxed against her hand, even leaned into the touch, told her that he had at least momentarily lost track of who he was talking to. “And I can teach you Comprehend Languages at some point, if you want, but as a ritual spell it might not be useful to your personal magical practice. Teaching you Zemnian might be easier.”

“It can be our code,” she said, and tapped the side of her nose. “Let’s see, I already know ‘bitte’ and ‘danke’ and ‘ja’ and ‘nein’... and I feel like ‘bitte’ should count twice, since it can mean ‘please’ or ‘you’re welcome’...”

“Plus you know a lot of profanity,” Caleb said. “I am a very bad example.”

“It comes in handy,” Nott said. She rubbed Caleb’s shoulder and he sighed and relaxed further. “Is this good?”

“Ja,” he said. “I don’t like that I like it, but I do.”

“I can stop,” Nott said.

“No, it’s just strange to want to be touched all the time. It’s like being someone else,” Caleb said. He rubbed his face against her hand: an unthinking gesture, seeking comfort. Then he froze, drawing back.

“Maybe you’ve just spent too much time looking through Frumpkin’s eyes,” Nott said, because joking seemed less likely to make him close himself off further than trying to reassure him. She was rewarded with a reluctant smile. “And I -- I know what it’s like. Not feeling like yourself.” And then, after long enough, that person you used to be stopped feeling like you anymore. At least for Caleb this displacement would only last a few days.

“I like you as you are, Nott the Brave,” Caleb said.

“Likewise, Caleb Widogast,” she said. His answering smile was crooked. Almost like he knew exactly what she had meant -- but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Unsettled, she redirected the conversation. “Do you want to try some broth?”

It was easy enough to reheat, though the sprig of thyme had wilted. Caleb sipped the broth straight from the bowl and ignored the roll entirely. He drank most of it. That was fine. The roll would be more than enough for her. (Hadn’t they both lived on less than even that for a long time?) Dusk was falling outside. He asked to lean on her when he went to the washroom, throwing on his damp shirt for the trip down the hall, and she promised herself she’d get it dry overnight. Nott relented and let him have the sleeping draught once he was settled in bed again. Half the bottle to start with.

“May I ask you another favor, my friend?” Caleb said.

“Anything,” Nott said. As she had before. She still meant it.

“Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?” he said.

“Of course,” she said. She scooted up to sit by his head. They usually slept back-to-back, but Nott thought this might be better under the circumstances. She could see his face, to tell if anything was wrong. Caleb held his hand up to her and she took it in both of hers. He brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

“I wish I could do as much for you as you do for me,” he said. Nott patted the back of his hand.

“One day, you will,” she said. He smiled faintly.

“You may hold me to it,” Caleb said. And then he slept. It wasn’t an easy sleep, but it was a deep one. He twisted himself up in the blankets, making little pained sounds. Nott stayed. She stroked his brow, or rubbed his shoulder, or held his hand. He didn’t wake.

It was hard to believe she had ever envied this. But she had, for so long. Most halflings went into heat or rut. Not Veth, though. It was another item on the long list of things that made her the odd one out. Her mother assured her that it didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her. Some people just didn’t get them. It was normal. Not too normal, though. There was no word for it in Halfling. She had to go to Common to find one.

There was talk when she got married, too. That she was probably as good as barren. That the marriage was doomed to fail. She’d felt a bright, vindictive joy when she got pregnant -- showing all those assholes, right? And she’d felt bad later that her first thought hadn’t been uncomplicated happiness. It never really got uncomplicated, because there were so many things to worry about, but the happiness came along quickly both for her and for Yeza. However afraid she’d been that she was going to be a shitty parent, she never doubted him. And he never doubted her. They muddled through just fine, until --

She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. She wasn’t crying. But her face felt hot and puffy, like the tears had already come.

“Get yourself together,” she muttered to herself. Caleb stirred but still didn’t wake, murmuring something as if in response. He sounded worried. Nott carded her fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean you. It’s alright.” She hadn’t had a drink in too long, that was all. She got down from the bed and went out to the hall, grabbing his shirt on the way.

Yasha was sitting outside, her sword laid across her lap.

“Uh,” Nott said. “Hi?”

“Hi,” Yasha said. Nott closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. “Just keeping an eye out.”

“I have my crossbow on me at all times, you know,” Nott said. She didn’t like the implication that she couldn’t defend Caleb on her own, but Yasha seemed to miss that entirely.

“That’s good,” Yasha said.

“I can protect him, I mean,” she said. “Like I always have.”

“I know that,” Yasha said. “This is for my own peace of mind.” She looked at the room across from Caleb’s. “There was a man this morning. He seemed interested in Caleb’s room. The smell of it, I think.” Pheromones, Nott remembered Caleb saying. She -- Veth -- hadn’t found Yeza any more or less attractive when he was in rut. It just meant closing the shop for a couple of days, trying to pace themselves. But she hadn’t been an omega herself. Maybe it would have been different.

“Is he still here?” Nott said.

“I don’t think so,” Yasha said. She glanced at the shirt in Nott’s hands.

“I was going to see if I could put it by the fire to dry in the girls’ room,” she said. Yasha was silent for a long moment.

“It might be better to wash all his clothes,” Yasha said finally. “To be safe. We can do it in the morning, maybe. Together?”

“Sure,” Nott agreed. She uncapped her flask and took a long swig. And another. And a third.

“How is he?” Yasha said.

“Asleep,” Nott said. “He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“That’s not true,” Yasha said. “He’ll know. For some humans in heat, the smell of people they love helps them feel safe. It means they’re home.” She laid the flat of her palm across the flat of her blade. “I was that, once. For someone I loved.” Nott could put the pieces together. The person Yasha knew who once had a bad, delayed heat, probably. The person Yasha said was dead.

“I’m sorry,” Nott said. Her vision swam. Even with her tolerance, half a bowl of porridge and a quarter of a bowl of soup and one roll weren’t quite enough to soak up what would have filled an ordinary flask. “Was she your family?” Aasimar were like tieflings, if she remembered right. They could sometimes turn up in human families.

“Yes,” Yasha said. “Not the same way Caleb is family to you, but. I loved her. More than anything.”

“That’s not what Caleb is to me,” Nott said. The thought turned her stomach. What kind of mother, what kind of wife, would put someone else before her child? Before her husband? But that thought turned her stomach, too, because that was Veth’s life. Not Nott’s life. Veth was dead; Caleb was the closest thing she had to family now.

“You should go to him,” Yasha said. “Be his touchstone. You’re his, even if he isn’t yours.” Was she his? Was he hers? Better not to think about it. There were always other things to worry about.

“Did he -- did he think you were someone else, after he took the other dose?” Nott said.

“For a little while,” Yasha said. “He spoke to me in his own language. He sounded sad.”

“Okay.” Nott took another swig and laughed, half-coughing. “At least it wasn’t just me.”

“Was he unkind to you?” Yasha said.

“He was scared of me,” Nott said. Her voice sounded too small in the dark hallway. Too young.

“Not of you,” Yasha said. “You know that. You even said he thought you were someone else.”

“Yeah, well.” Nott capped her flask. “Well, fine.” Yasha nodded. Nott pretended not to see.

She turned on her heel and went back into Caleb’s room. Nott closed the door carefully, gently, and slid the bolt back into place in perfect silence. She tossed the shirt back over the chair. On the bed, Caleb made a choked sound like a whimper. Nott climbed up on the bed beside him and curled up facing him. She stroked the side of his face. He quieted down and leaned into the press of her palm.

“I’m here,” Nott said. “I’m staying.”

Re: fill: "a field too long lain fallow," Caleb-centric a/b/o, pre-polyNein, M, 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

I cannot believe that you keep spoiling us with three-comment-long updates! Such dedication...and such incredible prickly Molly & Beau dialogue, oh my god.

I'm living for that prePolyNein tag (eyes emoji) like...Caleb, darling, if you would just prioritize your mental health, next time this whole ordeal could just be group cuddlefucking instead...

Re: fill: "a field too long lain fallow," Caleb-centric a/b/o, pre-polyNein, M, 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

I already had Nott Emotions after the last few episodes, and oh man this update did not help with those! I really love what you did with Nott's backstory here, and her reactions to Caleb's suffering and confusion just killed me.

And this part of Caleb's dialogue “Entschuldigung.” Nott knew what that meant, but he barrelled on. “No, that’s not right, I mean to say that I apologize; I am a citizen of the Empire and I should speak its language, I am not a child anymore --” sure does hint at some upsetting details of Caleb's past D:

Every time you update it absolutely makes my day!

Re: fill: "a field too long lain fallow," Caleb-centric a/b/o, pre-polyNein, M, 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

Holy crow this is an amazing fic, all the dynamics ALL THE DYNAMICS