![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
criticalkinkThe 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!
This community is open to all fans of Critical Role no matter what your preference for pairing may be. You do not have to join the community: you can either watch it or just track the post. Anon commenting will always be on, and IP tracking will be off. So feel free to stay anon if it makes you more comfortable.
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"
And now some rules...
While we want this to be a relaxed and cool place, we also don't want people to feel uncomfortable being here. If you have suggestions or comments on how this community can improve please address to them tocriticalkink in a PM or drop a comment on this post.
The most important rule of all? HAVE FUN.
Now go forth and prompt!
Welcome to the kink meme for Critical Role!
This community is open to all fans of Critical Role no matter what your preference for pairing may be. You do not have to join the community: you can either watch it or just track the post. Anon commenting will always be on, and IP tracking will be off. So feel free to stay anon if it makes you more comfortable.
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"
And now some rules...
- Since we're all supposed to be adults here, let's act like it. Be respectful to your fellow posters.
- Your kink is not someone else's and their kink may not be yours. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's really that simple.
- Please no bashing of other pairings. Just like with kinks, everyone has their own flavors, and this is neither the time nor place for ship wars. This meme is meant to include the entire fandom.
- Crossover prompts are allowed, but they must include a Critical Role character as a main part of the prompt.
- RPF is also allowed, but please prompt it over here!
- Het, slash, femmeslash? You're all welcome here. The more the merrier!
- It's not a requirement by any means, but writers love feedback, so if you read something you enjoy, take a second to tell the writer. Whether it's a one word response or something longer, it's always appreciated.
- Please follow basic kink meme etiquette by not linking the cast or crew to this meme.
While we want this to be a relaxed and cool place, we also don't want people to feel uncomfortable being here. If you have suggestions or comments on how this community can improve please address to them to
criticalkink in a PM or drop a comment on this post.The most important rule of all? HAVE FUN.
Now go forth and prompt!
Entitlement (3/?)
Date: 2019-08-14 12:20 am (UTC)He rested his hands against the solid, reassuring roughness of the door, rested his forehead against it, and tried to breathe. In a minute, he’d take out his silver thread and ward the room, but that could be in a minute.
It was a horrible feeling to fully appreciate in the hardwon stillness just how close he was to tears. The last dregs of adrenaline were leaving him shaking and shocky as they faded, with numb fingertips, stinging eyes, and a stubborn weakness in his legs. He hated confronting people directly. He hated standing out. That wasn’t supposed to be what his life was. That was supposed to be something that being in a group would let him avoid, and yet, and yet—
“Well, that was exciting,” Molly said from behind him, making Caleb flinch. He still sounded woozy and unbothered. He sounded as if he were simply commenting on the weather rather than his near miss. “I’ve never been fought over before.”
Caleb didn’t quite know what to say to that, didn’t pick up on the meaning there even if he could tell there was meaning there. He simply gave an acknowledging hum at first, and only after fumbling his silver thread from his pouch was he able to muster a reply. “May it be the last.”
He started to wind the silver thread around the room. Then he stopped, retrieved a chair, and shunted Molly into it so he could start over without the tiefling in his way. The weakness he could feel beneath his hands was starting to scare him. Enchantment magic didn’t usually have such visibly physical effects, did it? “S-Stay here. I, I need to make certain we are safe. Just sit.”
Molly nodded easily, did not protest, and Caleb turned back to his work with his mind racing.
Poison, perhaps? A mild poison to cause weakness and clumsiness for a while, probably mixed with a potion to charm and enchant the victim. That way, the man wouldn’t have had to worry about concentration, and if Molly had managed to shake off the enchantment halfway through, he still would have been helpless to resist whatever his attacker might have wanted to do to him.
It was unfortunately plausible. Caleb knew that magically endowed potions played very nicely with poisons. He could only hope that his guess was right, and that Molly hadn’t instead been dosed with something more lethal. Of course, the Crownsguard would never listen to a vagabond tiefling reporting being violated by a well-to-do human resident, but perhaps the man had intended to dump a body in a ditch rather than leave a living victim behind to even attempt to cause problems.
The thought made him shudder, swallowing down a fresh surge of dread. He had no way of knowing one way or another. All he could do was keep them both safe and alive until this wore off or until Nott returned. She’d be able to tell him more.
“I suppose it’s only that—” Molly continued on, as Caleb started working his way along the last wall. On the very edge of his hearing, he heard a sound like…rustling? It made him frown curiously. “--I didn’t think you would be the one fighting over me. But I don’t mind it. Honestly, Caleb, if you wanted to fuck me, you only had to ask.”
A choked, strangled noise escaped Caleb, and he nearly dropped the thread. He held on to his concentration and his component by the tips of his fingers, cursing himself. Every minute that passed without this room being defended felt like it was killing him by inches. He would not stop again.
“I do not want to fuck you, Molly,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall as he resolutely continued to spin the thread along. “I am not going to touch you.”
Molly laughed – it sounded bright as spun glass and just as brittle. “Of course you do and of course you are, Cay-leb.” There was a childishly singsong note in how he said Caleb’s name that only made what he was saying even worse. “Lots of people want to fuck me, I’ll have you know. I am very handsome.”
Once again, Caleb heard what he could not deny now was the sound of rustling fabric, and the sound made him cringe forward against the wall. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to that wouldn’t leave Molly alone and vulnerable all over again. And Molly kept talking – whatever he’d started letting out, he seemed genuinely unable to stop, and the cheer in his voice had the air of a well-worn lie that was doing less and less with every word to hide the pain that lay beneath.
“I am very handsome, I am incredibly striking, in fact. I’ve even been called ‘bewitching’, I think. Once. That was nice. I am one-of-a-kind! That’s what matters. Not another tiefling in all of Wildemount like me. And that’s fine. That’s good! That’s what I want. I just want to be me, as much and as hard as I can. And sometimes people like that. Sometimes they don’t, and fuck ‘em.”
The air around him felt suddenly, oppressively heavy. His limbs felt numb and divorced from his control. It felt exactly like he was in a nightmare in fact and, like his nightmares of burning or falling or failing, Caleb could see exactly where this was going to end and yet he could do absolutely nothing to stop it.
Moving like a puppet on strings, Caleb tied off the thread into its proper loop then slowly, slowly turned to face Molly. The tiefling was sitting on the floor, his coat discarded to one side and his shirt discarded to the other. Caleb could see the bundle of flowers at his shoulder and the peacock’s tail curling down his neck, the emerald trail of the serpent curling down his arm and the various stars and constellations wound throughout the other designs wherever there was room. He could see the neat, thin, silvery scars that covered Molly’s chest and shoulders, left there by the tiefling’s own hand.
He could also see, now, that Molly was trembling finely and starting to sweat, that his eyes were staring back into some past private hell that he could not admit had been a hell because of what such an admission would mean.
Caleb understood. He understood so well that it hurt.
Molly was still talking, and all Caleb could do was listen and wish that things were different. “And sometimes, people like the look of me enough to want me all to themselves for a while. That’s fine. And sometimes they want me bad enough to say things like ‘be quiet and I’ll let your circus stay in town another day’ or ‘be good and I won’t tell anyone about the three silver’. And that’s fine. They get something out of it, and so do I. That’s fine. That’s fair.”
He shouldn’t be hearing this. He didn’t want to hear any of this. Molly wouldn’t want him to hear any of this. But here he was, here they were, and there was nothing either of them could do to fix anything.
All Caleb could do was understand, and he did understand all too well.
“He put something in my drink, didn’t he?” Molly mumbled. He was starting to sway, now, even while sitting down. “I had a minute where I. Um. Where I wondered.”
Caleb nodded, though he had no idea if Molly saw it. Indeed, when the tiefling raised his head to try and look at Caleb, it seemed like he was only staring towards his best guess of where Caleb even was.
“That’s new. Never had to watch my drink before, y’know? But that’s not so bad, isn’t it? It’s nice that he thought I was worth the effort of something like that. Nice to not get threatened, or dragged, or—"
His composure snapped. His helplessness became too much to keep swallowing down. And so Caleb was finally able to shake the leaden numbness from his limbs enough to stand, enough to move, enough to kneel down in front of Molly. He reached out with shaking hands and guided his companion to slump forward, to let his head rest on Caleb’s shoulder and maybe, finally stop.
Molly didn’t seem to understand, at first – Caleb heard him make a soft, confused noise, and he stayed otherwise rigid under Caleb’s hands. But doing anything more felt as if it would have been crossing a line and, thankfully, after another minute or so his patience was rewarded and he felt Molly relax at last. It was Caleb’s turn to tense as he felt Molly’s arms wrap around him loosely, but it didn’t seem to be a prelude to any more awful misunderstandings and so he resolved to live with it.
“You are going to lay down,” Caleb said, and he barely recognized the sound of his own voice from how thick with emotion it was. “You are going to rest. In a while, you are probably going to be very sick. But you will get through it, and I will keep watch, and no one else is going to touch you beyond that.”
Molly didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t entirely dead weight as Caleb struggled to get them both back to their feet, so Caleb was at least relatively certain that he was still conscious. But he remained quiet and pliant as Caleb helped him collapsed onto the bed, only shifting a little and apparently on instinct to help accommodate for his horns. But for a time, he simply laid there, his eyes half-open and staring blankly at the wall, his breathing shallow.
Caleb, meanwhile, took up an anxious perch on the windowsill. His and Nott’s room faced the front of the building, and so he was afforded a look at the street outside through the fading light. At least this way, he could have some advance notice on the return of his friends or the arrival of Crownsguard.
When Molly spoke again, his voice was little more than a rasping whisper, as if two words alone sapped nearly all his strength.
“Thank you.”
It barely caught the edge of Caleb’s hearing, soft enough that he might have been able to convince himself he’d hallucinated it. But he looked anyway, and saw Molly looking back at him, having clawed back a moment of focus no doubt by the tips of his fingers.
Caleb reached out slowly and patted Molly gently on the head, right between his horns. “Try and sleep,” he whispered.
Molly nodded slowly, then let his eyes fall closed and did just that. Caleb was left to keep an uneasy vigil for the next two hours and thirty-three minutes, staring out the window, running his fingers anxiously through Frumpkin’s fur.
Re: Entitlement (4/4)
Date: 2019-08-14 12:21 am (UTC)In the tense, quiet stillness, he heard it immediately when Molly started to cough and retch a while later. Feeling strangely distant and detached by then, Caleb went to him and rolled him carefully onto his side so that, when he did vomit, it wound up on the floor next to the bed rather than back down his throat. Molly only seemed to come fully conscious halfway through emptying his stomach. Even then, Caleb quickly realized that lucidity had left him entirely.
“Gustav?” the tiefling whispered in a wet, thick, small voice. His eyes were screwed tightly shut and he was shaking like a leaf, sweat plastering his bangs to his forehead and staining around the hems of his shirt. “Wh-Where are we? Wha’s happened? Is everyone okay?”
Caleb didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what he could say which wouldn’t feel like another violation later. He just rubbed Molly’s back as he was sick again, murmuring soothing nonsense for his own sake as much as anything else. The next time Molly collapsed limply back onto the mattress, Caleb kept his hands occupied removing some of his chains and charms, the ones most likely to get stained if this sickness kept up or tangled as Molly thrashed around in bed. Thankfully, Molly didn’t seem to notice – Caleb already knew that his horns had next to no feeling in them, and he was too far gone to hear the faint jingling chimes as the chains came free. Caleb polished a few on a relatively clean patch of his coat, arranged them neatly on the windowsill, and by the time he was done he felt safe to try and see if Molly could keep some water down.
Molly was eager to drink, and too weak to fight when Caleb forced him to drink slowly. Even a few swallows of water were enough to help his voice sound less ruined when he spoke again. It was what he said next which made a hot, sick chill race up Caleb’s spine. “Please stop, please, I know what I said but this hurts, I don’t want this…”
Caleb said nothing, kept his mouth pressed into a thin, tight line as though to keep the bile at bay. He just brought Molly another full cup, then a third after that. He’d traveled with Nott long enough to know that dehydration could be the real killer during a sickness like this. If this was as bad as it got, then as long as he could keep Molly hydrated, then he could get Molly through this. He could do that much, at least.
He couldn’t think of anything to do for the hallucinations besides directing Frumpkin to curl up against Molly’s back and purr as loud as he could. As Caleb settled himself back on the windowsill, he let himself believe that it seemed to help calm the tiefling just a little.
At the least, he sounded frighteningly lucid when he spoke again, so much so that Caleb nearly startled out of his skin again and had to look twice to make sure that Molly’s eyes were still closed.
“Don’t worry,” Molly said, and his accent was never especially pronounced but now it was gone entirely. His voice was little more than a whisper but it was steady and strong nonetheless. “This won’t stop me. We’re still on schedule for the ritual. This won’t stop me.”
He fell silent after that, and stayed silent. Caleb, for his part, simply stared at Molly for a long, long while, tracking the rise and fall of his chest, thinking about a great many things. He thought about Cree, and scars that did not fade, about blood magic and rising from the grave. He thought about all the pieces which he truly, sincerely hoped would not turn out to fit together, for Molly’s sake and the sake of all the Mighty Nein besides.
In the end, there was nothing he could do about any of it, besides tug the blankets up over Molly’s legs a little and try to get comfortable by the window.
Even as the sun set fully and the light outside faded until it was lit by nothing more than torches and starlight, he saw the familiar figures approaching the inn. He made out Fjord, Yasha, and Nott – Beau and Jester must have still been off having their own fun for the night. That was fine. They were the two he always dreaded lying to the most.
So when the next knock came at the door, it came as no surprise. When someone tried the door and found it locked, that was no cause for surprise either. “Molly?” Caleb heard Fjord call, as he stood and crossed the room to the door. “You all right in there?”
Caleb unlatched the door and opened it to reveal all three standing outside – Fjord, Nott, and Yasha, all looking worried. Fjord’s hand was still half-raised to knock on the door again.
“Caleb?” Fjord asked blankly.
“Wessik said that Mollymauk is sick?” Yasha added, staring past him to the huddled form of her friend on the bed.
Caleb nodded. He’d had a long while in between water refills to practice this lie. “Ja. Wessik found me while I was in the middle of copying. He told me that Mollymauk did not look well. Molly thinks something happened or was done to his drink. He was able to tell me that much before he passed out. I don’t know anything more, I’m sorry.” He inclined his head to Nott, who was standing on her tiptoes to try and get a proper look at Molly in turn. “I tried to keep him alive long enough to see if you could learn something, Nott.”
“I’d need a blood sample,” Nott mused. “To be really sure. That probably wouldn’t bother him, would it?”
Fjord pointedly cleared his throat. “Yasha? What do you think about that?”
Yasha kept staring fixedly at Molly, so that at first Caleb wasn’t sure if she was listening at all. He had just enough time to wonder if she knew. Something about the look in his eyes made him curious about whether Molly would have told her even this much.
But when Fjord started to address her again, she simply nodded and waved a hand dismissively. “That’s fine,” she said, and crossed the floor without a backward glance to sit on the bed beside Molly. “Just be careful.”
The or else went unspoken but heavily implied. Caleb saw Nott gulp as she started to take stock of the various flasks and tools on her belt. Her alchemy kit was in the corner, on her side of the room where it had sat for days on end now, awaiting her attentions.
Fjord watched Nott approach Molly with a scalpel in hand, saw Yasha gather Molly up into her arms, and sighed. “Smells like a few different things died in here,” he said. “But, I’ve swabbed worse messes before. I’m gonna go downstairs, see if Wessik’s got any rags to spare.”
“Should I—” Caleb began, but Fjord shook his head.
“Take it easy, Caleb. You’ve done plenty. And thank you for that. I—” His frown grew more pronounced. His fingers tapped an anxious tattoo against his thigh. “I hate to think that something might have happened to him while we weren’t here. But you were. So thank you, Caleb. I was just getting used to having a roommate, I’d hate to have to change that up now.”
“Yes, thank you,” Yasha said. Caleb looked over to see that she’d gotten Molly settled, leaning against her chest with his head on her shoulder, still absolutely boneless but also still calm. Maybe it was just because he was still too weak to fight. Maybe it was because, even now, he somehow knew Yasha’s presence. “Thank you for taking care of him, Caleb. I won’t forget this.” She actually smiled, an expression as soft as flower petals. “Why don’t you rest in our room until we finish cleaning up? Jester and Beau won’t be back tonight.”
They were praising him, thanking him. And even if Caleb rationally knew that he’d done a good thing, that he’d spared a teammate – a friend – from harm, all he felt was tired and sick. It shouldn’t have come to this in the first place. He kept thinking about what had almost happened, what would have happened if he’d been just a little bit more of a coward.
“It’s nothing,” he said out loud, fidgeting with his scarf, staring at his feet.
“It’s not,” Yasha insisted. “I just…he…” Here she faltered, the cracks showing in her expression, betraying the depths of the worry beneath. Caleb saw her worry at her lower lip, before she kissed the top of Molly’s head very gently. “You know now that he never really had anyone else besides the circus. After that broke up…I was worried about him. But now I know that you’ll help him even when there aren’t monsters to kill. And that means a lot to me, Caleb. Thank you.”
The words washed over him like a tide. He knew they were sincere, fervently so. Yet all he could do was wonder and worry what Molly would think when he returned to his senses and realized everything that had happened, everything he’d said in his delirium. Maybe they would sink in later. For now, the light and gratitude Yasha’s eyes, and Fjord’s as well, was making him want to run and hide.
Your secret is safe with me, Caleb promised silently. Your secret dies with me. It was the least he could do. It would be far from the worst secret he was still keeping from this group.
“Just, just tell me if he needs anything more,” was all Caleb said aloud, and then he turned sharply on his heel and left the room before anyone could continue misunderstanding him. He escaped from a room that smelled of sweat and sickness into a room that smelled only of cinnamon and laundry soap. After a much longer war with himself than he would ever admit, he tugged the topsheet off Jester’s bed, wrapped himself up in the softness, and laid himself down on the floor with Beau’s pillow to rest his head on.
He knew he must have slept, and the rest of the group let him sleep there until morning. When he woke, Nott was curled up by his feet, and a whiff of incense and sandalwood still lingered on the air.
Re: Entitlement (4/4)
Date: 2021-01-07 09:07 am (UTC)