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ink-beneath-her-fingernails · 2 years

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Critical Role Masterlist

Organized alphabetically, chronology within series indicated.

ao3 | primary masterlist

Series Quick Links

a gap in my memory series

cr one-shot shenanigans series

Inks’ 2023 WIP Bingo

Mighty Nein Drabble Spree series

we’re basically gods series

Mighty Nein Campaign

another light, just as bright [559; part 5 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 1 of we’re basically gods]

We are not so different, you and I, the Dodecahedron hums.

Different enough, Caleb thinks.

(Or: The Beacon talks to Caleb. Sometimes, he even talks back.)

betrayer, betrayer, (mis)remember your roots [1.7k; part 10 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 3 of we’re basically gods]

It is the kind of scar tissue that makes it difficult to breathe sometimes, difficult to swallow. It is the kind that curls wide around either side of his throat, that bundles thick inches into muscle and skin, the kind that should've killed him, maybe the kind that did.

(Or: In which Mollymauk Tealeaf's past is not nearly as straightforward as even he thinks.)

divorce the first [3.4k; part 18 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

Verbal communication is—something of a phenomenon.

(Or: The Mighty Nein + native languages, and all that that entails.)

eyes never shut [842; part 9 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

She'd actually thought—

For one whole fucking second she'd actually thought—

Ruzza's hands had flowered with the same energy she's grown so used to seeing at Jester's fingertips, right before she takes all their pain away, and Beau had been stupid enough to think that—

Maybe she was going to cure Molly.

(Or: Molly dies. Beau deals.)

from the deep [488; part 7 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 2 of we’re basically gods]

Fjord, no last name that's real or matters, is alive, possibly more than he ever has been.

It'll be a long time before he figures out why.

(Or: Fjord can have a smidge of eldritch confusion, as a treat.)

hypnagogia [972; part 12 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

Fjord has a lot of secrets. It seems, with this group, that is something of a common theme.

Here is one of them: he is terrified to go to sleep.

(Or: In which sleep is important, but not always pleasant.)

let jester kill trent 2k23 [614; part 21 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

Suddenly, it’s not even a not-quite joke, not really. You don’t like killing people, but you’ll do it if you have to.

And Trent Ikithon simply cannot live.

(Or: Early episode 128, Jester makes observations, decisions, and possibly-maybe a very significant conversation with Artagan.)

let those secrets remain unspoken [1.6k; part 17 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

"It protects me from scrying, detection magic, location spells—the works. It has been many years. I have changed my name, kept a low profile... We should not have to worry."

Should not, because there is always room for error.

(Alternatively: The becoming of Caleb Widogast.

Or, more accurately: the death of Bren Aldric Ermendrud.)

a little birdie told me [1.6k; part 8 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

"I kill people!"

"I'm sure you do, Kiri," Jester coos delightedly.

Kiri absently wonders if the Gentleman somehow had the foresight to keep her name out of their ears, and how he'd managed it for all these years.

(Or: The mob boss Kiri we all deserve.)

a most curious collection [110; part 1 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

Nott considers herself, above many other things, a collector.

on matters of punctuation [234; part 14 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

For half a second, Nott hesitates.

(Or: That encounter with the dragon goes a bit differently.)

rise from this grave, spit out the dirt they buried you in [389; part 3 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

He does not know who he is, or where he is. But he does know, with an absolute and growing certainty, that he will die here.

(Or: A tiefling's first memory is of waking up in the dirt. But he is not alone. Not this time.)

a secret for trade (is not how peace of mind is made) [428; part 4 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

Your name is Beauregard Lionett.

Your friends call you Beau.

You tell yourself these things once, twice, three times.

(Or: Siff Duthar whispers. Beau listens.)

something truer than words [902; part 22 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

Here is a secret: most people think your favorite of your mother’s friends is Jester, or maybe Caduceus. Maybe, in another world, they’d be right.

Just not in this one.

Because what you’ll never tell anyone is that Uncle Caleb is the best of them all.

(Or: Caleb has a Thing with fire. So does Luc.)

speak of life and i will learn to cherish it [830; part 15 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

His words are accented unfamiliarly.

His turns of phrase are awkward, long and drawn out, the structuring of his sentences inconsistent.

It’s the most wonderful thing she’s ever heard.

(Or: 800+ words of Yasha listening to Caleb speak Celestial and being sappy, because I can.)

these walls have eyes and ears (they kind of look like yours) tumblr | ao3 [1.2k; part 20 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 1 of Inks’ 2023 WIP Bingo]

"We're calling it the M.T. Home now!"

Essek freezes.

"The... Empty Home?"

(Or: The Xhorhouse isn't the Xhorhouse, and what none of the Mighty Nein seem to realize is that they're not exactly the only ones living there.)

this burning hunger [200; part 11 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 4 of we’re basically gods]

"He's hungry," Caleb says, "and so am I."

(Or: Started as an attempt at a fae!Caleb fic, but landed just on Other!Caleb, instead.)

this forest is new and tender (each tree grows from a grave) [594; part 6 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 1 of a gap in my memory]

"Do you ever wish," Caleb says softly, "that you could forget again?"

Molly's heart freezes in his throat.

(Or: On forgetting, and building anew.)

viscera hanging from your lips [932; part 19 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

“Caleb, have you gone to them?”

“He’s not the fighting pit type,” Nott answers Jester before Caleb can open his mouth to do so.

And that's—certainly an answer.

(Or: The group is looking for an underground fighting pit in Rexxentrum. Caleb’s quite familiar with the sort of places that fit that description.)

we breathe the revolution [128; part 2 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

"It starts with the High Richter," Dolan says.

(Or: Not even a week in a big city, and the Mighty Nein are already getting wrapped up in a coup. Typical.)

why darling, your palms are split [476; part 13 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree]

The Mighty Nein have a nasty habit of pushing their luck.

Fjord has a feeling that they might've gone just a bit too far, this time.

(Or: What they did in Dashilla's lair is going to have consequences, of course.)

with gods like these (who needs monsters?) [5k; part 16 of Mighty Nein Drabble Spree; part 5 of we’re basically gods]

He reaches—his fingers wrap impossibly around the wisp that threatens to sift through them—and then he pulls.

And somewhere in the void, it latches on to some unknowable part of him deep within, and as he pulls, something else pulls back.

(Or: We're back on the kind-of-not-really gods au train again, everyone.)

One-Shots

if they ever stopped talking {2019 Red Nose Day one-shot} [1.9k; part 2 of cr one-shot shenanigans]

There is no generous or gentle way for her to do this.

She only has her sword, and only knows how it hurts. The kindest way she knows to cut someone down is with arteries and vital organs; a quick death if nothing else, and if she does it right, hopefully a painless one.

Perhaps she is not the right person for this job.

But she is the only one.

(Or: In which Shiona the adventurer meets what is left of Capo the Great.)

one unworthy hand to another {2019 Red Nose Day one-shot} [2.2k; part 1 of cr one-shot shenanigans]

This is the stuff of epics, of great poets, of the most revered songs of the most talented of bards.

It should have a happy ending.

But the thing about epics, and great poets, and the most revered songs of the most talented bards, is that they rarely ever do.

(Or: In which the author takes great liberty with the bits of character given.)

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