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

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CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

The rules are under the cut for you to read if you haven't already checked out the profile!

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.

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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.

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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Now go forth and prompt!

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What it says on the tin - any situation where Caleb (and the rest of the Nein?) are put under Geas with the sole instruction be to fuck each other. Maybe the others want to roll the dice (ha) on not obeying, but they're already injured and realize Caleb could literally be one-shotted. Maybe it's a "every day for a month" type situation. Maybe they're trapped in a labyrinth and they all have to find each other and have sex before time runs out! Maybe Caleb's the only one under it and he doesn't tell anyone, and the others don't find out until he drops unconscious. Maybe Caleb has to have sex with someone every day and they all trade off helping out until they can get it removed. Maybe Caleb is determined not to follow the command, almost dies a couple days in a row, and the others decide they have to override his wishes, with lots of self-loathing all around but determined to save his life. Maybe Caleb's trapped with someone else with it, and he has to push past the other person's reservations to save them. Literally any interpretation of it you want.

Any relationships, up to and including polynein.

“Well I think it’s romantic,” Jester says wistfully, perched on a broken column on their left with what is left of the looted diary in her hands. “So in love, and so trapped by- wait, press down on the dragon tile three times or we’ll all be on fire.”

“WHICH TILE-”

“Got it, got it!”

“To go through all these trials through,” Jester continues dreamily, “and his wish when he summoned it is just to be with his true love-”

“I mean,” Nott says, taking aim at one of the strange sludge-like guardian creatures again. “Did he try a nice dinner? Or flowers?” She shoots, rubs at her nose, and spits out blood like an afterthought. “Giving flowers is nice.”

“Flowers do work,” Yasha agrees solemnly before slamming her blade into the creatures hard enough to make the walls shake. Beau, a little red-faced, pretends her sudden clumsiness was deliberate by kicking away a few more rune-covered tiles.

“Might not be the fairytale you’re thinkin’,” Fjord says, but not unkindly, considering that he has two darts in his leg and having just barely shrugged off the poison in both. “With magic involved. But either way, we get a few hundred gold for bringing this token back.”

“I don’t- oh!” Jester blinks, and turns to the desiccated corpse slumped at the doorway with a ferocious expression. “If he’s right, I’m glad you don’t have a head.”

“We may never know, sweetheart,” Molly interrupts. “Regardless, the man had good taste in iron. May I see that lovely sword?”

They manage breaking in to the innermost sanctum without nearly half the trouble they’re due, according to all common sense. Molly has become used to that, and far too indulgent of it. Or at least that’s what he tells himself later to excuse their mistake; all of them lost in the aftermath of the fray, and Caleb worn thin and almost out but reaching to feel for the magical objects in the room without waiting for anyone to ask him to.

“No traps,” he says tiredly, “Those two knives, that scroll, and the necklace.”

“Careful,” Jester says, dropping the book. “Careful. What are they?”

“We got it?” Fjord calls from the doorway.

“Ja!” Caleb calls, gesturing for Nott to take the knives and scrambling for the rest. “I’ve got it.”

And then it all goes bright. They all have their own versions of what exactly occurred, when they compare notes, but that part is in common. It goes bright. The figure that comes out of nowhere when Caleb touches the chain of the necklace is no fire elemental but it lights the room all the same, an almost humanoid figure that drapes itself on Caleb’s shoulders. His hand is tight on metal and he’s frozen still while it whispers in his ear, pointing as it does.

At Molly.

Or at the sword Molly is currently dropping with a few choice curses in every language he knows.

Or at something else too damn close to tell. Anything is possible.

“Mein gott,” Caleb mutters in reply, then tries again with the distant steadiness of someone who has travelled right through panic and all the way to the other side. “I, no, there’s a misunderstanding-”

“Oh,” Molly adds, admittedly a bit less articulately. “Oh, f-”

Everything goes bright for them all, and a wish forty years overdue is granted.

“-uck.”

Ahhhhhhh this is such a good start!!! *_* I love that you have actual reasoning behind it, and this - then tries again with the distant steadiness of someone who has travelled right through panic and all the way to the other side is such a good line! So excited!

Amazing start!

It’s pretty funny, right up until it isn’t.

The first sign that something is wrong comes about half an hour after they make their way out of the caves, deciding as they do that a pretty light-show and some kind of message that Caleb refuses to repeat verbatim is certainly not the worst they’ve had to deal with in a cave to get something shiny. They probably spend too much time in caves.

“We probably spend too much time in caves,” Molly says out loud in case it helps, taking pity on Caleb, who is trying very hard to talk his way out of Fjord’s suspicious gaze while also keeping his dignity more or less intact. If anyone else saw the glowing thing point Molly's way, he can’t be sure, and he plays around with the looted sword and the necklace twisted around the hilt of it. “How much is this worth, again?”

“-neither dangerous nor particularly well-crafted instructions to complete the task it was summoned to oversee. Believe me, Tusk Love is literature by comparison,” Caleb is saying, a little helplessly, and realises his mistake as Jester lights up. “Is what I would say if I read it. Which I did not.”

“The magic thing told you to fuck,” Fjord says flatly. “That is what you are telling me.”

“If you gotta,” Beau snorts a laugh at whatever she means to finish that sentence with, then shrugs, gesturing articulately enough that words aren’t needed. “I mean, you gotta go have a personal moment, right? That’s cool.”

“I have no inclination,” Caleb says, blushing like a goddamn teenager, “to pay attention to these particular instructions until they pass. Not pleasant, but it will pass, so if we could move on?”

“Ogres. I know where I fucking am with ogres,” Fjord informs the middle distance accusingly.

“Too much time in caves,” Molly agrees, a little helpless himself.

“Nice of you to try,” Yasha says quietly at Molly’s side, to his immense embarrassment. She’s usually relentless when he goes a little soft-touch over someone pretty, or clever, or most horribly, both. The fact that she’s not now is somehow all the more frightening.

It is perhaps more accurate to say that they miss the first, second and third signs completely because Caleb is his own particularly obtuse brand of eccentric at the best of times, but the fourth sign comes half an hour after they drag themselves, in various states of disarray and loudly complaining, out of the caves and on to the road. They’re tired and miserable and taking it out on each other, but they all pay attention when Nott tugs Caleb’s sleeve with a question and after thirty minutes of fending off queries Caleb - there’s no better word for it - snaps at her.

“I am sorry,” he says almost immediately after, hardly taking a breath in between. “Nott, I apologise-”

“It’s alright, Caleb,” she says, shooting a glare at the rest of them, which Molly thinks is a little unfair. She tugs on his fingers, having had a hand in his since they left the caves. “You had a rough day. Is it worse? The headache?”

“It’s fine,” Caleb says earnestly, like he’s forgotten the rest of them are even there. “That is no excuse, my friend, I-” He sits down as he says it, more or less, then looks at the ground and back at his own hand in Nott’s with a certain amount of bewilderment.

“Things are a little blurry,” he admits, and pitches over.

Maybe the look she gave them was not entirely unfair; apparently Nott did not miss signs one through three.

Fjord moves to catch him but Beau beats him there, and Jester moves to the three of them in an instant. Nott is faster, scrambles close to her boy and wound as tight as one of her bowstrings. Molly barely has a moment to be grateful for Yasha’s arm around his shoulders. Gods, but he doesn’t deserve her.

“Okay,” Jester says after a second, quiet, eyes a little wide and pulling back with a sudden seriousness. “He’s fine.” She’s lying and she is terrified, and Molly is sure she is the best of them, so like hell that isn’t scary in itself.

“He called it… instruction?” Fjord says. Nott snarls a little, but shakes her head when they look to her. Beau, of all of them, flinches at that too. Molly will wonder later that he didn't notice it at the time.

“I don’t know what that means. But it’s- he’s okay,” Jester says, like she can make it so. Maybe she can. Molly doesn’t have a lot of years to lay claim to himself but there a different ways of being young.

“No he isn’t,” Beau says, just as goddamn young, inexpertly grabbing Caleb close. There is blood at his nose which he has been absently wiping away for longer than Molly cares to consider right now. It’s gotten on Beau’s wrist. “Guys? This isn’t funny anymore.”

Please post this on ao3 so I can follow it

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Hi, I am clawing my skin off, you're an amazing writer, and this is gut-punch perfect. Everyone's voices are down perfectly, throwing in the instruction - fuck that's good and painful and everything all at once. I don't even know what to say about this. It's killing me in the best and worst ways simultaneously, and I love you for it.

hi! so sorry if this is the wrong place for this, but I realised I copy-pasted a bit of part 3 incorrectly, and I was wondering if it could be deleted? I'll fix it up and repost. If not, no problem, I'll just do another part 3 below when I post part 4 :)

Sure, no problem, the existing part three can be deleted!

Dying to see where this goes, it's absolutely lovely!

Jester heals Caleb twice, and it works twice, jerking back awake only for the nosebleed and the rest of what it entails to kick in a few minutes later as he winces apologetically, avoiding looking any of them in the eyes. There are still a few hours of good light left, but no one even debated about making camp.

“If this is like with the thing with the arrow and the book,” Jester says, scrubbing at her eyes, “you both need to stop it now. This is a very stupid con.”

“Ah, no,” Caleb says awkwardly, though Frumpkin is his giveaway, climbing into Jester’s lap and mewling at her distress. Nott, who burrowed under Caleb’s arm the moment they carried him to camp and hasn’t shifted since, mumbles something about it being a damn good shot.

“Want to take a walk?” Fjord says, more of a statement of fact than a question, and Molly jumps a mile. Fjord takes his arm and steps aside, with no real direction but out of earshot of anyone else.

“I had no idea you had an interest, sweethear-” Molly purrs, purely to buy himself some time while his brain restarts, and Fjord shoots him an oddly fond glare.

“This is what I’ve got,” he says. “Jester is crying, which ain’t any kind of acceptable, and I’m obliged not to ask more about why he’s so calm with a compulsion-type magic that makes you bleed from the inside because Beau hit me with a stick and said Empire teachers are shitty and that’s the end of the story.” He lets go of Molly’s arm. “Which is bullshit, obviously, but she trusted me with it, and that’s hell of a something.”

“Okay,” Molly says, in the face of what he personally considers to be magnificent amounts of not-okay-at-all. “Yeah.”

“It’s half a day to any town sized enough for a whorehouse and I don’t think that’s fast enough.” Fjord says, quick and sure. “If you’ve got anything else, I’d like to hear it, but-” he pauses, meaningfully.

Molly, very briefly but without regret, falls halfway in love. He does that all the time but he always means it, even more so with people he has come to consider friends.

“It doesn’t have to be me,” Fjord says, quiet, “But I mean to promise it could be with no one being beholden to any-” he pauses a second. “Only I think this might not be a conversation I’m best qualified for, which is why I am asking your advice.”

“Yes,” Molly says, rallying to the moment, and trying very hard to not think about how pyrrhic any victory here will be. “Yeah. Sure.”

Words are, after all, important. Mollymauk Tealeaf would be the first to admit it, and to defend it. However inconveniently it hurts.

Fuck, this is inconvenient.

“If it were me,” Jester is saying as they wander back, having seemingly beaten them both to it. “You would.” Her words are getting all confused, used recklessly. Taking charge because they all know she has a better right to it than any of them if they fuck it up. “Caleb,” she says, in his lap and halfway to tears. “If it were me and if I begged? Wouldn’t you?”

“Liebling,” Caleb says soft and horrified. “Oh, liebling, don’t-”

Terribly inconvenient.

Molly is not qualified, but he gives a damn about words, and other things, enough to try.

Oh man, you pack so many feelings into your dialogue, it's amazing. I'm actually re-reading what you've got here because I'm a damn sucker for it.

As he and Fjord enter the ring of light around the campfire and everyone’s eyes turn to them, Molly stands a little straighter, breathes in a little deeper, and unbuttons his jacket for no other reason that to draw attention with the movement. It’s time to do what he does best, and perform.

“Any improvement?” he asks conversationally.

“No better, no worse,” Caleb says, and as ragged as he looks there is a hardness in it they’ve all seen before, but only rarely. When it looks like someone isn’t going to make it out of a fight, when he gets caught up in a memory he won’t explain, when someone swings a boot in the vicinity of Frumpkin. He’s fiddling with his silver string, having insisted on laying it down in between Jester’s earlier efforts to heal him. “As I have said, it will be unpleasant. But I will be fine.”

“As you have said,” Molly acknowledges agreeably. “Jester, I hate to ask for more from you tonight, but are you feeling up to-” he waves his fingers in mid-air, “- that tongue-loosening spell of yours?”

Fjord grunts like he wants to object but is stopping himself, and Yasha narrows her eyes at Molly but is also silent. Caleb barely reacts at all, unless you’re looking for it.

“Unnecessary,” he says, “but by all means, let’s continue the ridiculousness-” Molly almost shivers, a consummate liar himself for both business and pleasure, at how the tremor in Caleb’s voice that is not feigned at all has nonetheless been consciously played up. How he can almost feel the cogs moving behind Caleb’s eyes, preparing answers that are everything except outright lies. Yes, I know this spell. Yes, I have been under it before. Yes, it is used to hurt. Well, it certainly hasn’t killed me yet. It was my teacher. No, I’d rather not talk about it, but if you must know the tale comes in three parts-

“Oh, it’s not for you, darling,” Molly tells Caleb. “We caught on slow but we’ve been getting there since you set that alarm of yours up to ring out loud.” Caleb had muttered as much, halfway to himself, when he’d asked Beau for a hand to stay upright while he cast the spell. Practical, Molly belatedly realised. They wouldn’t get the full use out of it otherwise, if he got worse. “While Nott, I presume, knows by now when you’re bullshitting and has been deciding which horse to pilfer when she absconds with you and half everyone’s coin hoping to make it to town and a warm body for hire.”

“All of everyone’s coin,” Nott corrects, without a sliver of apology to it. “WC ‘cause he’s fastest.” She blinks at Caleb, lip wobbling. “I can knock you out,” she adds, with a tenderness such threats usually lack. Caleb’s composure cracks and his arm tightens around her shoulders.

“You don’t- we can split, I'll go ahead with you.” Beau has been trying harder than Jester to hide that she’s choked up, but she’s no good at it. “And help knock him out.”

“Except we think you probably don’t have that kind of time,” Molly continues, glancing at Fjord who nods firmly. Nott and Beau deflate. Molly moves to the second act of his performance; a more intimate setting required. He sits on the ground in front of Caleb, and focuses on speaking to him as if they’re the only two people in the world. If he convinces himself of it, his audience nearly always follows.

“The Zone of Truth would be for us.” Molly says to Caleb. “So we can convince you, on a time limit, that we mean what we’re saying.” He hopes he’s right in what he’s doing here, but Fjord asked him to talk. “So we can convince you that we know what it is we’re offering.” He reaches over and doesn’t quite touch the back of Caleb’s hand. “Not ideal circumstances for anyone involved; intimacy is terribly dangerous at the best of times, and without a knife to the throat about it. But let’s not pretend there’s no knife here, darling, and that the throat in question isn’t yours.”

If Nott cracked Caleb’s composure then Molly has pushed a finger to that crack and pressed; it feels a beautiful and a terrible thing to do, like destroying work of art to reveal another one.

“I am less than most,” Caleb says haltingly, then laughs, a bitter cut-off little sound. “But I would have hoped to remain someone better than would inflict that kind of compromise on a- a friend,” he stumbles over it. “To compromise friends in that way. That is too much.”

Molly’s chest does something tight and warm and so fucking inconvenient.

“That’s an opinion you’ve a right to have,” Fjord says, very simply. “I personally disagree.”

“Silly things aren’t less silly when they’re also very terrible,” Jester says, biting her lip. “If we were to lose you because of this it’s so very terrible, Caleb. The other thing could be silly, but not terrible. I mean, it couldn’t be terrible to me, Caleb, because I like you a lot and basically being close to you is not ever terrible, basically.”

This is the third act - this right here, with Caleb looking at them all with the expression of a man tumbling without warning from a great height - the part where Molly has to face up to the fact that Fjord seems to anchor Caleb in crisis in a way that Molly can’t pretend he hasn’t noticed, and that Jester is endlessly kind without motive in a way Molly can only aim for. He leans back a little. Louche and just the right amount of uncaring, in case that is the particular safe harbour Caleb needs to survive the fall.

“I generally find pleasure where I choose to make it," Molly says, and smiles as best he can like he would to a pretty stranger. "And I rarely find pleasure a chore, my dear-"

“Stop,” Caleb says, more fragile than asking and with less hope than it takes to beg. “Please.” He disentangles his finger's from Nott's, and gods only know when that happened. He doesn't look at her but she is watching him carefully, and her expression has gone from tightly panicked to something softer and sadder.

He disentangles his fingers and stares at the ground for a moment before he looks to Molly, blank and tired. "Only rarely? Still-" he glances back down again. "Risky business."

Molly nods, throat dry, and then gets to his feet, catching Caleb's elbows and helping him stand too. Everyone else suddenly finds other places they need to look. "I'm not worried. You have promise."

"You know what you're doing," Caleb tells the lapel of Molly's jacket. He's holding on to it and a little unsteady. "Okay. You know what you're doing."

"Absolutely," Molly promises, a consummate liar, especially to himself.

This is the best!! I can't wait for the next part

This is just. Unbelievably good. “Stop,” Caleb says, more fragile than asking and with less hope than it takes to beg. Hi you're murdering me.

Oh God, the nose I just let out when I got to this point! I'm really enjoying this, the tension between how much they care and where this is all going, everything, it's so good.

oh oh oh, what an amazing story! i know this looks to have its last update from long ago, but i would still be remiss not to leave a comment saying quite how much i liked it. everyone's characterization is so wonderfully interwoven. i will daydream about the ending :)

dear anon, this is the most lovely thing i've read in a long, long time. i see i've arrived about two years late but in any case i do hope you know that this story kept me up all night (just thinking about it) and that i am immensely grateful that it was shared.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

Caleb/Any(Many?) - Using Geas for Fuck or Die (tw: dub/noncon)

How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 1/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 1/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 1/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 2/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 2/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 2/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 3/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

request from authornon to mod

Re: request from authornon to mod

How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 3/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 3/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 4/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 4/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 4/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 4/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 4/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)

Re: How To Be Close To Someone So Distant 4/? (Caleb/Molly, hints of polynein)