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yesifitswithyou · 2 years

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Now that you're Gone | Critical Role

kudos to @hellomehlo for inspiring a brainrot that led to this fanfic only with a gif of Imogen/Laura clapping at Laudna surviving the plant monster. so, yes: did is an Imodna fic. lots of angst and corruption ahead

also available on AO3 !!

Summary:

[ Takes place during and after the fight with the plant monster creature ]

Laudna is not able to escape the body of the creature; and when it goes down, Imogen doesn't want to believe that Laudna's gone.

It happened in slow motion for Imogen. It was both too fast and too slow. She was petrified as she saw the creature bite into Laudna and swallow her whole. The strange plant monster was pulling her into its gullet and there was nothing Imogen could do at that very moment. Her mind was racing, yelling at her to do something to save her, but her body didn’t seem to get the message. She froze right there and then. She was both extremely focused on the moment and with her mind elsewhere, far away from that forest. She didn’t know what to do. As if everything she knew, every spell or cantrip, went out the window, not even basic mobility registering in her brain.

She then sees a light burn inside the creature as it bursts into dark energy and flame momentarily as the last bits of corpse-like body disappear inside. She’s still unable to move, unable to think.

Laudna, Laudna, Laudna.

Her own body and mind kept repeating as if it was her own heartbeat. She felt anger and fear and uncertainty. Her distress increased as FCG’s blade was unable to cut through to get her out of it. Her heartbeat fastened when Ashton failed to release Laudna by hitting the monster non-stop.

She felt weak.

She’s gonna be ok. She can’t die. She’ll get out of there. Her mind kept repeating, hoping.

“C’mon Laudna…” She whispers to herself, hoping the undead woman gets out of there. Hoping she’s ok. Hoping she’s still alive.

The minutes pass by, too slow and too fast all at once. The plant monster didn’t attempt to bite and swallow another member of the party, but Imogen was not sure how to feel about it. Maybe that meant Laudna was still in there, alive. She wanted to hope for the best. She could still be alive. She had to be alive.

But the anxiety kept increasing.

Imogen flinched at the sound of a saw blade cutting through the creature’s roots and its scream as it fell. She sees as Fresh Cut Grass stands on the other side of the agonizing monster as a thud, almost a crash, resonates in the woods. When the screeching ceases, she’s unsettled by the strange, absolute silence.

No talking. No thoughts. No music. Nothing. Absolute, deafening silence.

Panic starts to rise within herself as she realizes she can’t hear Laudna’s mind and her muscles seem to have a burst of energy and instantly move. Lightning threatened to sparkle on the surface of her skin.

Laudna, her mind keeps repeating as images of the plant monster swallowing her best friend over and over, as if she’s watching it happen again and again.

“Fire, fire. Fire”, she hears Ashton say. “Burn it, burn it all. I’m fucking done.”

“Wait!” Imogen interrupts them with the loudest scream her broken voice could strain out as she runs towards what remains of the creature. Hoping.

Hoping the undead woman was somewhere in there. Hoping she was still breathing. Hoping she could just hug her and beg her to never scare her like that ever again. Hoping she was still alive. Hoping she didn’t leave her.

“Laudna?! Please, please be in there.” She rips apart and throws whatever vine or stem was in the way, desperately looking for the boney woman, her breath quick and heartbeat strong.

The rest of the party immediately realized what was going on: she was hoping she was still there. Most of them had already settled with the idea that the creature had taken her, and it was heartbreaking to see the lilac-haired lady hanging onto the fantasy of finding her.

They knew: Laudna was gone; but none of them had the heart to tell that to Imogen, who kept digging her nails into what remained of the monster as new vines seemed to be trying to grow again. Watching the latter, Fearne and Chetney started burning the new-grown bits, trying to stay out of Imogen’s way.

She’s not in there. Imogen gets to hear. She was so desperate, so worried, that her walls were weak and fragile. Not only did she have a growing pain forming on her chest, fueled by fear and desperation, but the piercing thought was making the whole thing a hell of a lot worse.

She won’t find her.

Laudna’s… gone…

Poor Imogen.

Should we say something?

The thoughts flooded her mind, tightening her throat and itching her eyes as tears started to form and lightning crackled under her skin.

NO! She thinks loudly, shutting down everyone else’s minds and thoughts.

With her mind silent, a little more at ease, she starts looking around with what remaining hope she still had close to her heart. She almost cracks her neck at the strength and speed of her movements. She doesn’t find a body, but she does see red thread and a bird skull a couple of feet away. Not willing to move away from where she stood, she used her telekinesis to attract it. Soon having Pâté in her hands, fear rises in her chest, and pressure that hurts falls on her shoulders.

She then uses her last resource and stops her frenetic movement to close her eyes in concentration. She attempts to find her mind, the rest of the Hells watching as an aura of energy and magic surrounds her faintly, a frown on her face and eyes moving under the eyelids. A teardrop evaporated from her cheek. She concentrates on finding Laudna’s mind. Laudna’s music. Laudna’s comfort. Anything that would tell her she’s still alive, that she’s still somewhere out there. That she’s still with her.

Her walls still up blocking everyone else’s minds making it harder to fully concentrate on looking for her, but she still has to try. She has to be there. She refuses to accept the obvious outcome like the others already did, but the deafening silence makes her interior shiver in fear. She wasn’t willing to give up. She wasn’t going to give up on her. Not now, not ever.

Her concentration is broken by delicate contact. She opens her eyes and turns around to see her fey friend next to her. When did she get there? Fearne had put a hand on her shoulder as a sign of support and looked at her with broken eyes.

“I’m sorry”, Imogen barely listens to the whisper that came out of Fearne’s mouth when her thoughts were so loud.

She’s not there.

No, no. She has to be there. She can’t be gone. She can’t-

The sight of Fearne’s crystal eyes brought her back to reality from whatever dream she was hanging onto. Realization and acknowledgment hit her like lightning, as heavy as an avalanche falling onto her. She feels her knees going weak and clings Pâté to her chest like a lifeline. Imogen shakes her head in denial as she feels the tingle of magic heating up inside of her and her hair filling with static. Her eyes start flashing white when Fearne speaks again, attempting a soft voice.

“She’s gone, Imogen… I’m so sorry.”

Everyone was thinking the same thing, and Imogen had listened to them, but hearing it out loud made her knees bend and her body drops to the ground, almost lifeless. Her chest hurt and her throat turned apart in a loud, high-pitched scream as tears accumulated in her flashing eyes.

She broke, a pain like no other invading her whole being.

A wave of lightning, purple magic blasts out of her like a bomb of energy. Of electricity. Of pain. The wave hits every member of the party, who take cover instinctively at the sudden light, pushing them feet away from her. Lightning travels past the Hells towards the nearby vegetation, burning everything it touched and incinerating the remains of the creature.

Dry tears and loud sobs fill the air for the next seconds, maybe minutes. No one dares to break the silence, wanting to give Imogen that time and space they know she needs, worried that the wrong words will make it worse for her.

Her mind was rushing.

She had failed to protect her. She had failed and it hurt so much that she couldn’t do anything to help her. Her mind kept yelling at her for freezing, for just watching as Laudna was being eaten alive. For not doing enough to keep her safe.

She had always wondered, ever since the nightmares and the telepathic powers started, what it would be like to have silence again, no thoughts but her own inside her head. This silence, though… This is not what she wanted. She hated the kind of silence that Laudna’s absence left even more than the constant buzzing that came with the unbearable headaches. She got so used to her music that it never crossed her mind that one day it could just be… gone.

She hates it.

She wants her music to play again. She wants her cold limps to hold onto her again. She wants to lock eyes with her, to get lost in them. She wants to intertwine hands with her again. She wants to see her smile, to hear her laugh. She wants her to crawl out of the pieces left of that monster and say that she’s okay, that it’ll all be okay. She wants to yell at her for scaring her like that and make her promise never, ever, do that again. She wants to look her in the eyes and confess what she’s known for a while now.

But she can’t. Not anymore. It’s too late for that.

She was never brave enough to just start that conversation.

She presses Pâté against her chest and between her glowing hands, clinging onto him as if holding him close enough would make her appear next to her, as if it could bring her back. As if it could make the pain go away.

A rush of memories fills her mind, fueling the tears that run down her cheeks and fall to the floor. The fact that the dead rat with a raven skull in her hands is the last thing left of her crushes Imogen even more, not being able to at least attempt to bring her back. She thinks of how cheerful she is- she was. How she wouldn’t let the horrible things that had happened to her —her death, the isolation, the fear, the solitude— take away whatever life was left in her, whatever happiness she could still feel.

Happiness.

Imogen wondered if the pain, the consuming black hole growing inside of her, would ever go away. She wondered if she could ever feel as comfortable, as belonging, as happy as she was with Laudna. Maybe in a couple of years, maybe she couldn’t. She didn’t think this type of pain would ever go away.

A faint purple light coming from her pouch catches her peripheral.

And then, she felt nothing. The tears stopped. The sobs died in her throat. The sadness evaporated in thin air. The pain took hold of her and the emptiness weighed on her, crushing her insides. She felt numb as her mind stopped rushing, the absence of even her own thoughts heavy, unbearable, and deafening.

Her first instinct was lowering her walls, needing to fill the silence with anything, preferring piercing buzzing thoughts over the silence and the emptiness and the numbness.

She felt everyone looking at her, their fear of breaking the silence and their sadness at the sight palpable. Everyone else’s feelings trying to fill her void.

Next thing she realized, she was standing up, Pâté still close to her chest in a death grip and her body moving on its own towards the camp.

She just wanted to get out of that place. Maybe- maybe if she left that jungle, it would all be better. Maybe if she ran, if she was far away- Maybe there was something she could do to-

No. Stop it. There’s nothing to be done. You have a mission to complete.

Her body stilled right then and there. She didn’t dare to look back as she was talking to the rest of the party.

“We should leave. It’s not safe here.” Her voice came out as lifeless as she felt. Too calm and too stony for someone who felt broken.

Movement began to sound behind her as she was walking away. Slowly. Steady. Grass and branches cracking under everybody’s feet, the smell of burnt vines filling the air, and incomprehensible whispers being shared. It didn’t seem like any of the Hells were following her, maybe occupying themselves with whatever was left of the creature.

Soon enough, she was next to the fireplace and all of their stuff. She let out a breath, a bit of relief that she wasn’t next to that thing anymore. One last, lonely tear went down her left cheek.

Mimicking the way Laudna did, she secured Pâté on her own belt, red threads hanging from him. She approached hers and Laudna’s bags before walking to a dark area next to the improvised camp they had made. She took a thick branch and stuck it in the ground, hanging Laudna’s bag on it. She leaned in close, closing her eyes. Her voice lower than a whisper.

“I’m so sorry.”

She remained still for a couple of seconds before standing up again and walking towards Heart.

She took her horse’s face in her hands and caressed her trying to smile, just a grimace being able to show through her dull eyes, and connected their foreheads together, trying to ground herself back to the present and keep her mind from wandering through memories and memories and memories and memories-

When she was about to get on Heart, a soft whinny called her attention, her sight crossing with Escargot’s, Laudna’s horse.

It was as if she was calling her through him, a pressure making its way through her chest and a cold breeze caressing her skin. So, as if on command, she approached the black horse instead, getting comfortable on the saddle while waiting for the others to get on their horses, Orym riding Heart instead.

Soon enough the party starts going down the path, sleep not feeling like an option anymore even though the sun wasn’t close to rising. The ride was silent, only the sounds of creatures within the woods and the wind in their ears keeping them company. Ashton took the lead, scanning the darkness in front of them, Chetney right behind him. Orym was third, dragging FCG behind him and staring back at Imogen every once in a while. Fearne was a couple of feet behind FCG, humming a soothing song to herself, being loud enough for it to fade with the background noise.

Fearne, Orym, and FCG seemed to exchange a couple of looks and tried to stay back a couple of times to get to Imogen. Make her company, maybe offering a bit of support or a shoulder to cry on, but it felt useless to even try. Maybe what was best right now was for them to let her feel it, whatever she was feeling. To process what had happened. Maybe she would approach them about this on her own.

Imogen stayed behind them, almost out of sight of Ashton and Chetney, as if blending with the darkness around them.

She was being consumed by her own thoughts. They felt louder by the second, drowning everyone else’s minds piercing into her own. Still, the numbness and emptiness filled her, getting a hold of her soul and refusing to leave. Her eyes were glued on Pâté, who was swinging on her belt due to Escargot’s pace, almost like a pendulum, only looking up to not be left behind. Sometimes she would catch Orym, Fearne, or FCG looking at her, immediately breaking eye contact like a toddle being caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. She wouldn’t react to this, her face remaining emotionless and calm.

Once she was certain none of them were looking, and sensing they wouldn’t do it again anytime soon, she dared to reach out to her pouch. She took the diamond box she knew the purple rock was in and opened it.

A faint purple light was looking back at her, letting her see every detail of the possibly dangerous rock even in the darkness of her surroundings. Her instincts kicked in and she saw herself taking it in her hand- her blue hand?

Huh, that’s new.

Pushing the odd coloration of her skin aside, she turned her focus back to the rock. The dark navy blue contrasting with the bright purple was beautiful, to say the least. It was enchanting. The cold rock felt comforting in her grasp as it seemed to be trying to reach out to her, tempting. She again lifts her head to make sure none of the others were looking her way, mistrusting.

She looks back at the stone with intensity, trying to figure out why it had glowed moments before and why it was trying to communicate with her, why it feels so right but so wrong all at the same time.

She exhales as if giving up, and lets her mind wander back to Laudna.

When they first met, Imogen didn’t know it at the time, but her world shifted in ways she hadn’t imagined. She felt happier, she felt better than she had ever felt back home. But now, she felt lost and tired. Tired of everything and everyone. Tired of her mistakes and her hope. Tired of the anxiety, of being afraid. Tired of running and tired of trying so hard to keep her powers under control.

Lately, she has thought more and more about letting it loose, about giving in, about not worrying too much, and letting her powers, and herself, live. After all, what could be worse than losing her? What could even go wrong?

She could just set herself free of everything.

She looks back down at the gnarlrock. Maybe it can be of help.

Maybe if she stops searching for answers, she could finally stop thinking about it and start doing something about it. She could stop getting heartbroken every time she hits a dead end. She could stop worrying so much, caring so much

She just wants peace.

She closes her eyes briefly as she tries to open up her mind toward the rock, connect with it far beyond the first time. Trying to uncover its mysteries, its secrets. Once again, she feels her essence almost going into the stone itself, it won’t let her go.

Good. She’s not backing away. Not this time.

She feels herself almost being consumed by the stone and, at the same time, herself consuming it back. She feels her grip on the reins and on the stone tighten as electricity flares under her skin and a warm feeling of strength fills her. The emptiness she hadn’t stopped feeling, the numbness, intensified; but were soon replaced by rage, anger, wrath. The intoxicating feeling fuels her veins as her heartbeats kick slightly faster and her lightning scars light up slightly.

It felt like a different kind of power. One that consumes everything on its way like wildfire. One that replaces any submission and fear. One that numbs the pain.

She had never felt so angry before. It fueled every inch of her system. Anger towards the whole world. Anger against the Hells. Anger against herself. She suddenly understood Ashton’s constant anger. Her eyes flash white for a couple of seconds. The scars grow bigger past her elbows, burning. Her hair changes to a darker, intense purple. It was painful, but as soon as the scars stopped burning her skin, relief floods her.

She feels numbness, emptiness, and anger; but she also feels a strange amount of peace. An unusual peace only comparable to the eye of a storm. Peace within the chaos reigning the rest of her being. Almost comforting.

She grins to herself, all teeth showing as the first signs of sunlight caress the horizon, as she tastes the feeling of letting go of the strict control she forced herself into.

Maybe the voice in the back of her head telling her to get rid of everything and everyone who got in her way was a good thing. Maybe standing up for herself and not caring to look back at the consequences was a good thing. So, with this new confidence, this new strength, this darkness throughout her entire being, she puts the stone back in her pouch and signals Escargot to go faster so they would catch up with the group.

#3 thousand and something words of pure agony #imodna #imogen temult #critical role fic #alex's fics #critical role campaign 3 #c3e18 #angst #gnarlrock

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