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!

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!

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well, here it is, my first ever kink meme fill after more than decade in fandom.

Mollymauk meets the Terrible Tinkerer of Tal'Dorei, gets some feedback, and much more besides. No warnings, but stay tuned for a bit of light restraints, handjobs, edging, and all that good fun. More coming asap!

_________

This was not the first - and likely wouldn't be the last - time Molly had been hauled up in front of the city authorities.

It had never been so interesting, before, though. And that included the fake royalty incident.

There were some set pieces the Circus always played. Fortune telling. Fire spinning. Very large people picking up very heavy things in not many clothes. A little friendly theft. Things without which a trip to the circus would feel incomplete. The Terrible Tinkerer of Tal'Dorei was one such bit, full of intrigue and terror and doomed romance and enough jump scars to leave anyone a few gold lighter than when they went in. Possibly they should have reconsidered when they passed into Tal'Dorei proper, but well - Molly can barely remember the name of the town they're currently in, nevermind anything so trifling at major land borders.

Besides, if he had, he wouldn't be here.

Here, being: at the foot of the Council table, coatless, and very self conscious of the gaping neckline of his blouse.

At the head of the table, leaning against the arm of the council chair, hip cocked and one hand resting thoughtful on his chin, the Lord de Rolo, round glasses on the bridge of his nose and white hair, salt and pepper stubble, cravat. Looking for all the world as though he should have a riding crop, and Molly has to suppress an involuntary shiver at the thought.

He’d caught, on the edge of hearing as he waited to be see, snippets of conversation. “ - harmless,” which seemed to bode well, and “slander,” which seemed less so, and finally the deep, honeyed voice of a woman, chiding. “Do try not to break this one, darling, it always leaves such a mess,” which could be either.

“I have to admit,” the Lord de Rolo finally spoke, an elegant eyebrow raised. “That was one of the more inspired versions of that story I’ve heard. Well done on those sound effects - I trust no-one was actually firing a firearm back there?”

“Oh, no,” Molly assures, “Pyrotechnics, on the other hand…”

The Lord de Rolo snorts, and rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I suppose that is the best one can hope for.”

“Probably,” Molly answers the rhetorical mutter, and grins unrepentant at the look he’s given. He’d have grinned anyway, but he thinks he can detect amusement lurking somewhere underneath all the starch.

“You lose points on originality, though,” the Lord continues, definite amusement now, although it’s not at the precise context of this moment; some joke somewhere that Molly can’t see, some hidden irony. Perhaps casting the red eyed tiefling had been a little tired. But, again - it got him here. “I remember rather more black smoke and less of the smell of rotten eggs.”

The reminder - that he’s standing in front of the man, the Terrible Tinkerer, is… It’s heady and frightening and delicious, and Molly can almost taste gunmetal heavy on his tongue. The thick, cloying taste of adrenaline and arousal.

“Good to know,” Molly murmurs, and watches; grey eyes, grey beard, warm hands. “But.” There it is; the indignant lift of the chin, the interest piqued, engaged. “I got some things right, didn’t I? Clever brain. Clever tongue.” A glance up, away, back again; turned cheek. “Clever fingers, too.”

“Some things,” the Lord de Rolo allows, Attention on Molly’s tail, not the demure head tilt or wicked eyes. Good. Oh, this could be - “Clever mouth, I think, instead.” Pink cheeks, which should feel like a victory, and it is, but it’s - oh, it’s a loss too, because -

- he’s not leading the charge, here. He’s not leading anything, except everything.

“The firm, steady hand?” Molly licks his lips.

“When required.” The Lord looks him up and down, almost lazily bored, admiring, as if they have all day. “Will it be?”

Molly lifts his chin, scoffs. “Why don’t you find out? Put my in my place?”, even though the Lord de Rolo must be able to see the tremble of his knees, ready to buckle at the slightest indication.

Instead - “Come here. No - walk.”

Molly does, watching the Lord de Rolo watch him. It’s not a long walk, from the end of the table to the chair, or a hard one, for all everything feels like moving through syrup, heavy and honeyed. Molly wants to buckle again, when he gets to the Lord’s feet, go down and stay down, press forward; beg, in the prettiest way he knows how, bed and demand. There is a finger on his chin, though, preventing it, not to mention the eyes.

Good good good, you're amazing, ahhhhh! My favorite bit is Molly imagining Percy with a riding crop, because yeeahhh.

yes hi hello I am back, I did not forget about this, real life just got in the way /o\
_________________________________

“What’s the point of having you down there where I can’t reach.” Molly whines, petulant, turning his face further into the touch; feels his neckline finally lose its battle with gravity and expose a shoulder and collarbone, lets it.

The touch on his cheek, barely there but as compelling as if he’d been bound, guiding gently backwards until thigh met table, and Molly lets the touch keep bending him backwards, splayed out and exposed on the dark, gleaming wood.

“Lovely,” the Lord de Rolo murmurs, a low rumble Molly feels more than hears, chasing aching echoes of frustration across his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. The Lord de Rolo leans over him, boxing him in, and Molly whines louder, exposes his throat. The Lord puts his hand there, over the ink, and Molly swallows just to feel the pressure against his windpipe and for the darkening of the eyes it elicits.

“Someone likes to put on a show, I see,” the Lord drawls, with dangerous, promising amusement. He leans down, closer, whispers: “There was something else.”

Molly opens his mouth to ask what, but the Lord de Rolo is kissing him, overwhelming; it is all Molly can do hold on, not that’s it hard - holding on is exactly what he wants to do, anyway. Hold on and roll his hips up into the knee suddenly between his, the hot broad heat. Clutches at clothes, hair, hips; drags him closer.

The Lord, though, pulls back; Molly’s wrists pinned, panting and mussed, needy twitches into empty air. “They called me…” the knee, again, eagerly used, removed; “no mercy Percy.”

Again and again; knee, beg, removed, knee again. The best kind of torture, set ablaze, burning up from the inside. Kisses, too; long, cool drinks of water, banking the flames but never too high, riding the edge of total combustion.

Always one hand on his wrists; Molly wouldn’t move them, couldn’t, held by something infinitely heavier than a hand. But - but it’s good, solid, an anchor when the rest of the world is falling away, just Molly’s body and the frustrated pleasure.

And Molly knows how to do this; how to beg, how to twist, when to whine and strain and coax, knows exactly how long his legs are and how pretty he is when he blushes, sharp canines driven into a lower lip. But - but -

“That’s it,” the Lord de Rolo - Percy - purrs, when Molly forgets to beg and lapses into infernal; when he stops testing Percy’s grip just to feel the squeeze and gives into it, drooling too much to smirk, tears gathering helplessly on his cheeks, chest shuddering.

It isn’t pretty, but this time Percy doesn’t move, and the flames bank higher and higher - raging, until they eat through his skin and out, burning him up.
He comes back down still whimpering, twitching; tail wrapped around a bicep, spade-tip resting against a throat, tight. A soft chuckle; murmured noises, affectionate and warm. A hand briefly in his hair, and then his wrists are free; gentle fingers over the delicate joints, easing non existent stiffness.

Warm cloth around his shoulders, gentle movement, something solid and supportive under him and something cool to drink. Slowly the warm haze fades; just himself, sitting in the chair, clutching a tankard, Percy’s coat around his shoulders; shirt back into place. He laughs; the Lord de Rolo laughs too, eyes crinkling at the corners, crinkling like laughter is a good friend to this man.

“Clever fingers indeed,” Molly quips; his voice is rough, and Percy’s grin is sharp and pleased.

“So I’ve been told.”

Molly laughs, again, unwinds his tail from around Percy, who glances at it and blushes; what if, whispers a voice, but there isn’t time for what ifs. Onwards, always - something else waits for him on the open road, in the next village, as intoxicating as that blush promises to be.

Still - there is one thing. Molly really does like being put on his knees. He curls a leg around Percy’s, blinks up through his eyelashes.

“Want a hand with that?”

“Oh, yes.” That flush, again, for all the eye contact doesn’t waver. How darling. “But that’s for the Mistress to decide.” There’s all kinds in that tone; pride, smugness, shyness, sheer and almost painful love.

And heat. And a promise, maybe, in the tilt of a hip, and - fuck. Gustav will just have to do the circus without the Terrible Tinkerer for a night or two.

Bless you and bless your house.
no mercy percy 👌
the Mistress 👌👌👌

(filler here!)

ah, thank you! i was so nervous to post, so I'm glad you enjoyed no mercy Percy and the Mistress. Percy might play at this role but it's all done under his Miss's direction

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CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

FILL: 'can almost taste the gunmetal', Mollymauk/Percy, M, 1/?

Re: FILL: 'can almost taste the gunmetal', Mollymauk/Percy, M, 1/?

Re: FILL: 'can almost taste the gunmetal', Mollymauk/Percy, M, 2/2

Re: FILL: 'can almost taste the gunmetal', Mollymauk/Percy, M, 2/2

Re: FILL: 'can almost taste the gunmetal', Mollymauk/Percy, M, 2/2