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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!
fill: "a field too long lain fallow," Caleb-centric a/b/o, pre-polyNein, M, 6/?
Date: 2019-01-04 03:04 pm (UTC)---
He didn’t stay that way for more than two hours.
Yasha noticed immediately when Caleb woke up, but she didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything that needed saying. If he started to look worse, she decided, she’d get in bed with him and hold him until some solution was found. When he stirred, eyes half-opening but glassy and unfocused, she frowned.
“How are you feeling?” she said. He might lie. She knew that, understood the impulse to try to seem strong. The way he answered, his tone and how he moved, would tell her more than the words.
“I thought this was all over with,” Caleb said. He shifted to face her. “I thought I was safe from it, once it stopped.”
“You are safe,” Yasha said. “Nobody’s going to get to you.”
“But I’m stuck here,” he said. “Trapped, you understand. In my body.” He drew the blankets closer around himself.
“I can't help you with that,” Yasha said softly.
“I was so ashamed,” Caleb said. He wasn't looking at her or anything in the dim room. He was looking at something beyond her. Some other time and place. “And then I hated my shame. How could I feel shame that I was like my own father, who I loved? But I could, and I did, because I aspired to do more than grow rye and raise a family in the country.”
“I didn't know your family farmed,” Yasha said. She wasn't sure he heard her. His answer did not make it clear. He might have been answering, or just continuing the thought.
“My father worked the field and my mother grew vegetables, baked bread. My mother was a small woman, but mighty, you know? The heart of the home. My father had been in military service before they married, and he was the sterner of them, but she was stronger. She was the one who wanted more for me.” There was bitterness there. So much that Yasha wasn't sure whether the hand clutching the blankets was shaking from fever or emotion. “I should have been like her, I thought then. I still sometimes think so, but I was not enough like either of them, in the end.”
“Would you like me to lie with you?” Yasha said. She took his trembling hand in hers. His blood was running hot. She gripped his wrist, pressing two fingers over the vein. Not fast or slow enough to worry her, so that was good, at least.
“What does it matter what I would like?” Caleb said.
“It matters,” Yasha said. She moved her hand away and he reached for it.
“It might have been better if I told them,” Caleb said. “I thought it would be worse.”
“Your parents?” Yasha said.
“The guards,” Caleb said. His memory was still sharp, but scattered -- following words and sensations rather than a narrative thread. She had started it by asked how he felt, and turned him in another direction when she touched him. “Later, after, I overheard them say that it was not, ah. Not sporting to have their fun with an omega. Not enough of a challenge.” He bared his teeth. It was more like a snarl than a smile. “I gave them the fight they wanted.” A shaky breath in and out. Ineffectual clutching at the bedclothes. Then, almost inaudibly: “At least the first time.”
That decided it for her. Caleb wasn’t well. He was getting worse, or he wouldn’t have told her any of this.
“You’re going to drink some water, and then I’m going to hold you,” Yasha said. Caleb let her prop him up in bed, and held the little earthenware cup himself, though he had to use both hands. He looked a little less glassy and distant after that, which was a good sign. “How are you feeling?”
“Not excellent,” Caleb said. “A little, ah -- well, the fact that I can't think of the word in Common is explanation enough. I feel very tired and, you know,” he gestured at his head, “but not sleepy.”
“You’re dehydrated,” Yasha said. “That's making it worse.”
“I thank you for being such an attentive nursemaid.” He lifted the cup as if in a toast. “I know it's not your natural inclination.”
“I don't mind,” Yasha said. “And I’ve received care enough to know what it should be like.” Caleb looked at her a little curiously, but held his peace. He drank down one cup of water and then held it out for more. He could hold the cup in one hand now, without a tremor in it, which seemed promising. Perhaps this had been the problem all along -- but, no, he should have been sleeping peacefully by now. Yasha would have to tell the others that she suspected a mistake had been made beyond the dosage. The apothecary must have made the wrong thing. Yasha refilled the little cup, considering what to do. “Can you look after yourself for a minute or two? I’ll be right back.”
Then it was a matter of finding out who else was still at the inn, and deciding which of them was likeliest to fix the problem instead of making it worse. Fjord and Jester were out, but Molly and Beau and Nott were down in the tavern. The choice couldn’t have been clearer.
“Beau,” Yasha said, and cleared her throat. Beau looked up from what seemed to be a dice-and-cards game. She blushed a little; Beau often did, when Yasha spoke to her. And Yasha knew that look, that eager interest, that dare to hope -- but from another life. Beau was scattering the seeds of her affection over barren ground. (Or maybe not that. But land that had been burnt-over, and would take many seasons’ turn to yield fruit again.)
“Yeah?” Beau said.
“Can I talk to you?” Yasha said. “Privately.” Molly looked up, smirking. Interested. He’d be disappointed later when he found out the truth.
“Yes, absolutely,” Beau said. Then, trying to force herself to be casual, she amended, “I mean, yeah, cool. Whatever.” She followed Yasha around the end of the bar. Not out of sight, but harder to overhear.
“It isn’t working,” Yasha said. “What the apothecary sold to us.”
“Son of a bitch,” Beau hissed. Yasha nodded.
“I don’t want to leave Caleb alone…” she started, and Beau cut her off.
“No, of course not,” Beau said. “But that guy’s going to get a piece of my mind, and maybe also my fist.” Yasha felt herself almost smile.
“Maybe wait until everyone else is back together,” Yasha said. “I don’t know that it would go well, with just the two of you and Nott.” Beau cringed.
“Fair point. But I don’t want to wait too long. I mean, how bad is he?” she said.
“He’s… not in danger, I don’t think,” Yasha said slowly. “But he’s not comfortable and he can’t sleep. He’s talking about things I don’t think he wants me to know.”
“Shit,” Beau said softly. “What kinds of things?”
“His parents,” Yasha said. Beau looked stricken. She knew more about Caleb than Yasha did, that seemed clear. “Things he remembers from childhood. I think it’s the lowered inhibition. It has no other outlet.” And his voice wasn’t otherwise occupied, as it might be if he’d dealt with the heat in the conventional way. In moaning, or begging.
“Okay,” Beau said. “That’s good to know, I guess.” She glanced back at Nott and Molly, who had given up the pretense of the game to stare across the room at them.
“I’m going to go back to Caleb,” Yasha said. Beau looked back at her.
“Yeah, of course. If we get something else -- when we get something else -- I’ll bring it up to you.” Yasha clasped Beau’s hand in thanks, and saw the blush rising again as she turned sharply to go back up the stairs.
Caleb was still sitting up in bed. He’d been out of it, at least a few steps, to put the cup back on the nightstand. That was good, too.
“Will you help me to the washroom?” he said, and Yasha thought his flush might be humiliation rather than fever. “There is a chamberpot, but I didn’t want to use it if the room won’t be cleaned for days.” As would be the case if he stayed here through the whole heat and kept the door bolted.
“Of course.” It was easy enough to get him back into his shirt for modesty -- it hung long enough to cover his smallclothes, if not much more -- and then let him lean on her down the hall. There were no alarming sounds of anything crashing to the floor, or the dull thump of an unconscious body, which was good. He took long enough that she knocked on the door, though. “Alright in there?”
“Yes, sorry, just trying to wash up a bit,” he said, and opened the door. His shirt clung to wet skin. Getting the worst of the sweat off, or trying to, she guessed. She helped him back to the room. He leaned on her a little more heavily this time, so she sat him on the bed before helping him get his shirt off. “The door, please,” he said quietly. Yasha bolted it and pushed the chair back in front of it, and then shrugged off her mantle and laid it on top of Caleb’s clothes. “What, ah -- what are you doing?”
The tone of his voice made her look over at him again. Not frightened, but wary. His shoulders had started to curl in defensively.
“Skin contact,” she said, starting on her leather bracers. “You’re not asleep, and this will help.” Belts next. She had several. “If you’ll allow it.”
“Yes,” Caleb said. Boots after belts, then the braided tunic, then her leggings. She faced him fully when she was down to her smallclothes. “You know, you look. Bigger?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say…”
“Lay down on your side,” she said, “and I’ll get in behind you.” She wasn’t much good at comfort, but she thought that taking charge of the situation might be reassuring in its own way. Caleb obeyed, though not without a nervous glance over his shoulder. “I’m right here.” She laid a hand between his shoulder blades as she got into bed and some of the tension in his back melted away. “Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?” Caleb said.
“Down here.” She pressed a hand low on his abdomen and he tensed again. “Like a, a stone stuck inside.”
“Exactly that,” Caleb said. “How did you know?”
“I helped someone,” Yasha said. “Like this.” Not at all like this. “She told me.” She had also told Yasha that what would make the deep ache feel better was massaging it, from the inside and the outside at the same time. She would only offer Caleb the latter half of that. “I could try to help, if you want.”
“That would be nice,” Caleb said, cautious, “but you don’t have to.” She rubbed over skin and muscle in a slow circle and he started to relax again. Then he sighed, sounding exhausted but also unmistakably gratified. Yasha paused. Caleb clapped a hand over his mouth. They were both still a long moment before Yasha started up again.
She thought about telling him. That he smelled faintly of pine and honey instead of hay and sweet clover, even to someone less naturally attuned to the nuance of human scent. That the last person whose heat she had eased was the person she loved most in all her life. That she knew a delayed heat was worse because Zuella had delayed hers on purpose, by some means unknown, to be able to spend it with Yasha. Her wife, her partner. Her mate. If he turned to look and really observe, Caleb would know half the story just from the imperfect crescent scars of a bite in her shoulder left to heal without magic or any medic’s craft.
He didn’t turn around again. His breathing evened out. The grip of his hand over his mouth loosened, and he breathed still easier. Yasha slipped into half-sleep. She dreamed a dream that was only hers. Not a message from her god, because those were not so soft. She dreamed of the texture of furs, of cloth rough-spun from flax and undyed. Long hair, intricately plaited but coming loose from exertion. A little laugh, mostly air, like a sigh. Hay and sweet clover. Tenderness. Delight.
Waking was hard. She had pulled Caleb too tight against her as she dreamed, like she was afraid he’d slip away. Like he’d been the one she was trying to hold onto, against the tide of time and death. She loosened her hold a little, trying to give Caleb room to breathe. He made an unhappy sound. He turned in her arms and clutched weakly at any part of her that he could reach.
“Warum liebst du mich nicht mehr?” he said, so heartbroken that Yasha knew he wasn’t talking to her. She stroked his hair. She gently moved him back to where he’d been, because he wouldn’t like to wake up and feel he’d demanded too much. She folded him tightly back into her arms. He settled. She followed him down into true sleep.
Re: fill: "a field too long lain fallow," Caleb-centric a/b/o, pre-polyNein, M, 6/?
Date: 2019-01-04 03:44 pm (UTC)