CR Campaign Three: Character Prompts

[criticalkink]

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: Char1/Char2, flogging

Body of comment: Char1 has a thing for Char2's strong hands. Having seen them wield a weapon, they're wondering how well Char2 can swing their favorite bedroom toy.

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:

"[something punny about floggers], Char1/Char2, 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!

Comments

'at least you feel something,' Fresh Cut Grass/Ashton, M, 1/3(?)

[(Anonymous)]

At first Ashton thinks they’re hearing things.
“You’re not serious, Letters,” they accuse Fresh Cut Grass. “Really? Never?”
But nope: “Really never!” Fresh Cut Grass confirms sunnily. “C’mon, Ashton, think about it: where would I have had the opportunity to experience sex before? My associate-“
“Nope, nope, no more of that,” Ashton says hurriedly, waving away this line of thought before Fresh Cut Grass can get any further into it. For some reason, the healer’s talk of Dancer always rubs them the wrong way, though Ashton is a big enough person to admit that they haven’t really sat down to examine why this might be the case just yet. “We’re focused on you right now, Letters, not the people you used to know.”
“We are, aren’t we!” Fresh Cut Grass chirrups, their eyes shining. “I mean, I’m not really sure why, but it’s kinda nice to have your attention so completely like this, even if it’s aimed at pointin’ out the limits of my experience. Thanks, Ashton, you’re a real pal!”
And honestly, that’s like the crux of it right there, isn’t it. Sometimes Fresh Cut Grass just, like, says things this way, with no apparent knowledge that this kinda talk could come off as dead sarcastic, and certainly with no regard at all for Ashton’s own carefully-cultivated tough-guy persona, which crumbles a little easier beneath the robot’s relentless shininess every gods-damned-time.
Fuck. Shake it off, Ashton – plans to plan, and all that.
“Yeah, yeah,” they tell Fresh Cut Grass with a put-upon grumble. “Stop distracting me, Letters, I’m not done being shocked at you yet. Can’t believe you’ve been down here with us in the depths all this time and no one’s, like, fucking propositioned you in the hallway yet or something.”
“Well sure they have,” Fresh Cut Grass puts in. And then, before Ashton has even a single second in which to process this and start guessing whose heads they might need to smash in for being rude, Fresh Cut Grass is already going on: “Which was nice of them! Maybe they could tell the same thing that you did just now, guessin’ that I’d never experienced the carnal side of pleasure before. But it always just – seemed weird, I guess. Not that I can feel weird! Maybe, let’s say, it always struck me that I didn’t know them, and I-“
“Letters,” Ashton finally manages.
“Mhm?”
“Anyone treat you bad or touch you funny?”
“Um. No?” the healer says slowly. Not like they aren’t sure, and more like they don’t know why Ashton is even asking, so at least there’s that, but still. But at the same time, an idea is starting to crystallize in Ashton’s mind – hah, see that, if they weren’t so busy planning something for Letters then they’d be demanding some recognition for the pun – but yes.
“’K, that does it. Letters.” Ashton is already on their feet and halfway to the door, ready to holler out for Milo. “New question for you – do you wanna try sex?”
It’s not that they expect or need an answer right away, but more that Fresh Cut Grass is uncharacteristically quiet for just long enough that Ashton has to look back at them real quick, worried now. But the robot is just regarding them thoughtfully, shiny dinged-up metallic head cocked ever so slightly to the side as if Fresh Cut Grass is mulling something over.
“With you?” they ask eventually, in a much smaller, quieter voice than Ashton has ever heard from them before, and oh shit, Ashton hadn’t considered that maybe it would sound like they’d been setting them up like this, aagh.
“Fuck, umm – not if you don’t want to, buddy, I swear, we’ll find someone else-“
But Fresh Cut Grass immediately swings their head from side to side, ponderous-like. “No, Ashton, it’s fine, it’s not like that at all,” they say, a little closer to normal volume now, but still with that strange edge of uncertainty that Ashton can’t quite place.
And then they come for Ashton’s entire life. “I think I’m havin’ an epiphany, that’s all. It’s just – I’m realizin’ that maybe this is what was missin’, actually. Maybe I didn’t want to try havin’ sex before because those other folks who wanted me or asked me weren’t you.”
Oh.
Oh fuck.
Ashton needs a moment before they can reasonably be expected to deal with this.
“MILO,” they bellow instead, taking the Krook house stairs two at a time. “MILO WHERE ARE YOU BUDDY I HAVE A THING I WANT YOU TO MAKE.”

'at least you feel something,' Fresh Cut Grass/Ashton, M, 2/3(?)

[(Anonymous)]

Milo makes them the thing. Better still, Milo makes them the thing with only minimal questions asked, and even exhibits only mild academic curiosity in the experiment when Ashton’s circumspectness is shattered by Fresh Cut Grass trundling in and telling their housemate point-blank what this is all for.
“You two tell me how it goes, all right,” Milo pesters Ashton when the little contraption is complete. “Not, like, all the details, obviously, but, like, whether it works or not. Whether it gets you the results you want, or, I dunno, needs some tweaking for next time!”
In their defense, Ashton’s a little slow on the uptake thanks to Milo’s easy assumption that there will be a next time, but the end results is the same: Fresh Cut Grass beats them to the punch.
“Aww – thanks, Milo! You’re a pal,” they enthuse. And then they come for Ashton’s entire life all over again. “An’ if you hear anythin’ from us in here, like cryin’ or hollerin’, don’t you worry, I’ve consented to it!”
At this point Milo is standing by the door and Ashton is kneeling in the center of their room by the robot, but still, their gazes meet for one split second – time enough for Milo’s eyes to communicate what the fuck does that even mean and Ashton to think back, as hard as they can, oh my god I don’t fucking know, this is news to me too! – before the human lets out the most forced, fake-hearty laugh that Ashton has ever had to the dubious pleasure of hearing and darts out the door, slamming it shut behind themselves and yelling for them to be safe as they pound back down the stairs. After a comedically short moment, their own door downstairs slams shut too.
“Wuss,” Ashton grumbles, shaking their own head a bit to clear out the shock. “Didja really have to tell them all that, Letters? You’re making me sound like, oh, I dunno, a killer or something.”
“Nah, establishing consent verbally sets a good precedent,” Fresh Cut Grass muses, scooting over to join them. “Even if you’re a sadist who’s into playin’ with that kinda thing – which is a set of preferences I think I woulda noticed earlier, anyway – it’s important to discuss boundaries and establish expectations the first time you’re with someone.”
Fuck.
“Fuck,” Ashton whispers, with real feeling. “Some days I wish I could get into that shiny head of yours, Letters. Just to see what makes you tick in there.”
The plates of Fresh Cut Grass’s face don’t move much, but still, somehow, Ashton can tell that they’re smiling. “And if I knew how to make that happen, Ashton, then you’d be welcome inside me.”
Ok, for crying out loud.
“Enough, enough, fuck.” Instead of dwelling on that for any length of time, Ashton fumbles with the contraption Milo has made them. “Tell me what you think of this, ok?”
When they hold it up for Fresh Cut Grass’s inspection, Milo’s gizmo is a little patch that’s smooth and malleable on one side and rougher, with tiny bristles, on the other. Two small cables snake up from the bristled side, tapering off into little cups of the same smoothness as the first side: when pressed to a metal like Fresh Cut Grass’s body, Milo had explained, the smooth side and the cups will adhere right to that surface until peeled away. Milo hadn’t had a lot of specific directions beyond “try it out!” but luckily, Ashton thinks they can come up with something – after all, they’re a barbarian, not a boor. Letters’ first time is going to be focused on them and their experience, not like Ashton just rubbing one out on top of them or something.
(Though… that is also a mental image to maybe revisit later, because whew.)
Anyway. Here and now, they ask Fresh Cut Grass quietly, “You ready?”
“With you, always,” Fresh Cut Grass responds, as quick and easy as if that display of total trust cost them nothing at all to offer. Whew. Ashton can feel a familiar low tingle already starting to build in their own body. “Anythin’ I should know before we get started?”
Fuck. Um. Probably? “You can do whatever you want,” Ashton says slowly, thinking about this. “Touch me or not, it’s all good, go for whatever you feel like doing; I don’t mind either way, but I’m gonna keep my clothes on for this one because we’re focusing on you. Although – come to think of it, make sure you talk to me, buddy, because I’m used to going by facial expressions and reactions, and yours are, uh, kinda different from most. But that’s it on my side – do what feels good to you and talk to me as we go.”
Shit, still feels like they’re missing something. Uh… Oh. “And’s there anything you want me to know?”
“Nope!” Fresh Cut Grass says serenely. “I trust you implicitly, Ashton. You’ll make this great.”
Well. Ok. Fuck.
“Fuck. All right then. C’mere a little closer, Letters.”

'at least you feel something,' Fresh Cut Grass/Ashton, M, 3/3

[(Anonymous)]

It’s kinda strange, not having to undress their partner first, but Ashton rolls with it, goes right for the petting. Unsure of how much Fresh Cut Grass can actually feel – every day seems to differ – Ashton starts slow, rubbing circles against the stylized blades of grass imprinted right in the center of that shiny frame, and exults, mentally, when Fresh Cut Grass begins to loll against them, murmuring that this is odd but “very nice, Ashton, wow,” as they lean into the sensation. Emboldened, Ashton trails their fingers lower, tracing slowly down the length of that frame and coming to rest at the base of Fresh Cut Grass’s torso where it meets the strut of their single wheel.
“Ashton?” Fresh Cut Grass slurs against their shoulder.
“Mhm? You need me to stop?”
“No… it’s good,” Fresh Cut Grass murmurs. “But, uh – the gizmo? Don’t want you wastin’ your time?”
Ashton can’t quite keep down the smirk. “Buddy, I promise you, none of this is a waste of my time.” It’s really, really not – not with their friend slumped nice and warm and heavy and what Ashton would call ‘boneless’ in literally anyone else, against their good shoulder.
“‘Sides,” they add. “I gotta warm you up before we get to the real show. ‘S only polite.”
Then, when Fresh Cut Grass mumbles a dazed assent against the skin that always peeks from beneath Ashton’s habitual vest, Ashton slides two fingers left and two right, so that they’re cupping the robot’s base in their palm, cradling one of the few spots where they know Fresh Cut Grass’s plating is thinner.
Then they push the heel of their palm in against that smooth, shiny spot up front and curl their fingers up into the dark places beneath, both moves at once, and Fresh Cut Grass cries out in shock.
“A-Ashton!”
At some point, they’ve raised their hands to clutch at Ashton’s arms: Ashton can feel ten bright little points digging into their skin, particularly against the eternally-tender scars on their left arm, and they hiss at the sweet, painful light of it. Turning just a little, they press their nose to the side of Fresh Cut Grass’s head – noticing, absently, as they do that the robot is vibrating, ever so slightly, beneath their touch. “You good?” they croon.
“Y-yes!” Fresh Cut Grass stutters, the syllable quickly extending into a cry as Ashton flexes their fingers again beneath them. “Yes, Ashton, please, that’s good, that’s so good...”
Ashton works them over this way for a bit, pressing inquiring fingers gently into and against every crevasse and cranny of Fresh Cut Grass’s lower frame and even making a gentle fist around the top of the strut that culminates in their friend’s single wheel, jerking that slowly up and down to see how the robot reacts. And with every new attempt or alteration, Fresh Cut Grass is quick to inform them that this is amazing, Ashton, oh wow, can you do that again, oh OH, right there, aah…
But as delightful as this is, Ashton hasn’t forgotten their other option here either. “You ready for something more?” they murmur against the side of Fresh Cut Grass’s head again, and when they assent, Ashton yanks away the palm of their hand, quickly replacing it with Milo’s patch. The little cups they affix higher up Fresh Cut Grass’s torso, one on either side of the tallest stylized grass blade.
Fresh Cut Grass just has time for a stifled, “Oh, oh my,” before Ashton replaces their hand where it was before, cupping the robot’s base again but this time, also rubbing their thumb up and down the bristled pad as fast as they can go. Like they’d suspected, it generates some kinda static that, judging by Fresh Cut Grass’s startled yelp and then literal moan of pleasure, gets translated right into the various smoother sides of the gizmo.
“Ashton,” Fresh Cut Grass gasps. Those bright points of light in Ashton’s arms dig in tighter still, thrilling them to the core.
“Yeah?” Ashton murmurs. “You still good?”
There’s a creak of metal as Fresh Cut Grass, no shit, shivers. “Yeah,” they confirm with a rush and a rattle. “Please, more!”
And, with a shit-eating grin, Ashton obliges.
It doesn’t take much more time before Fresh Cut Grass is wheezes in a way that Ashton has never heard before, and Ashton can feel a bit of moisture against the four fingers they still have tucked low. Some kinda lubrication, no doubt, but Ashton brings those fingers up to their mouth just to taste it and be sure – yeah, bit oily, but not unpleasant.
Then they nearly topple over as Fresh Cut Grass topples against them, bringing their not-inconsiderable weight to bear against Ashton’s good shoulder, and now it’s Ashton’s turn to wheeze a bit.
“You good?” they manage to ask, bracing themselves enough to keep them both upright.
“Yeah,” Fresh Cut Grass confirms, sounding dazed but pleased. “Wow, I – I didn’t think sex was really going to be that big a deal for me, given that I’m not soul-touched like you an’ Milo, but, uh, that was somethin’ else. Whew. I liked that a lot! Thank you, Ashton.”
“No need to thank me for a little friendly nookie, ya lunk,” Ashton grumbles, but turns out that Fresh Cut Grass wasn’t quite finished yet.
“Any time you feel up for it, let’s try that again with the patch on you!” the metallic menace continues. “I noticed that your arm’s real sensitive, and that got me wondering if that was the only spot, and-“
Oh shit. Ashton was never going to know another moment’s peace, were they.
“Please, shut up,” they beg Fresh Cut Grass. “I never thought I’d miss that post-blowout moment where everyone was too tired to talk, but you’re gonna make me change my mind, Letters.”
Fresh Cut Grass pulls back far enough to consider their face. “Really?”
“Nah, just a joke,” Ashton assures them, pulling the robot in close again. “Any time you wanna try something out again, I’m here and waiting for ya.”