#and it does hurt; fearne gets hurt they all get hurt

[arcticwaters]

something something reckless dangerous decisions something something confronting mortality

#critical role #cr spoilers #ashton greymoore #laudna #laudmoore #my art #critter role #i drew this right after ep77 but the parallels i saw between them got more confirmed for me in 78 #i spent the ep trying to figure out why laudna was so upset (betrayed was such a strong word for something that had little to do with her) #(like yeah the shard was important but like it wasn't hers it wasn't imogen's it was his journey not theirs. i get being upset but THAT?) #''why didn't they learn my lesson'' was very telling to me and all but confirmed my theory that she saw herself in him #she made a choice to kill bor'dor in a way that risked waking up dalilah but did it anyway because she needed it; a sense of control #the same day she learned that dalilah had become extremely strong and could not die without /her/ dying she watches #ashton make a choice that they knew risked everything but did it anyway for a sense of control. and he dies. #he dies right after she realizes she may have to die to protect her loved ones but it will HURT #and it does hurt; fearne gets hurt they all get hurt #''why did they break her rock?'' #ANYWAY it's like i said in another post: 'they are a child' she says as she cuddles a toy and asks an older woman to hold her #also so sorry i'm shit at effects

[rucksackmentality]

List of the truths shared in Nana Morri's Honesty trial (C3E79):

Imogen: I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again.

Laudna: Deep down inside, both Delilah and I want the shard...Fearne should have it, but I don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings, or hers.

Imogen: I love Laudna deeply but I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time.

Orym: I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. It doesn’t matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys.

FCG: Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don’t do enough with them...Chetney, you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything other than wood! There's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood!

Orym: I've always kind of laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad.

Ashton: I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum robbery went fucking wrong, and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window.

Fearne: I feel like we’re very ill-equipped for this job and we're going to fail at saving the world. (Laudna: Honestly that's probably true, I'm right there with you.)

Chetney: While wood may be the superior material to metal, I do fear that, with the dwindling interest in it, that children will find my toys - and thereby myself - obsolete every year I grow older.

FCG: I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something - it feels really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away.

Imogen: I know we're supposed to save the gods, but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them would ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I dont know if I want to save gods that don't love me.

Laudna: You know we could rip-cord out of [saving the world] at any moment...right? And sometimes I fantasize about it all the time.

Fearne: I sometimes do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping - not weird stuff, I just like to look at you closely...and maybe like, twiddle your hair or braid it. Nothing bad!

Ashton: Whenever it starts to get quiet, I start worrying that one of us - most of us - are going to end up killing another one of us accidentally...I have panicked thinking about when one you kills another one of us.

Orym: I have all the faith in the world in you guys...and I have also spent time thinking of how to neutralize each of you.

FCG: I kinda worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me - but what if she does? And I'm saying horrible things?

Imogen: Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard!

Orym: I really miss Dorian, and sometimes I think that's okay, and sometimes I think it isn't.

Ashton: I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening.

Chetney: I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westruun, and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. They ran when Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains, and so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. And I had five siblings - Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad - and I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them, and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me. That's why I don't get attached to anybody.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e79 #cr3

[quietblueriver]

Because I can't imagine Imogen was ready to let that moment in the basement go, some quickly written Southern Gothic angst/love/comfort set between their nighttime excursion and Imogen's visit to the temple the next day. Light spoilers for ep. 77.

-

When the door closes, the sounds of Fearne’s hoofs fading down the hallway, Imogen turns quickly to her pack, doing what she can to look busy as she shuffles clothes and tries to catch her breath. She needs a minute. She needs more than a minute. She needs…

“Imogen.” 

It’s loving and soft, because of course it is, because it’s Laudna, but it’s also…she’s doing that thing she does sometimes, where she acts like Imogen doesn’t know what she wants. Like Imogen is too young and too naive to understand. The same tone she used in the basement. Promise me. 

As if Laudna wouldn’t burn the world down for her. As if they don’t both know it. 

It’s not the first time she’s dealt with this bullshit. Laudna gets to be passionate and protective and fierce in her love (I would murder everyone around us if anything happened to you) but Imogen is supposed to pretend like Laudna’s life is worth less to her, to the world. Supposed to somehow just…let Laudna go. Because what? She’s a little bit dead? A little bit different? Imogen leveled a city block without conscious thought and nobody’s trying to put her down like a rabid dog, so why does everybody act like that bitch Delilah makes Laudna’s life irrelevant? Why does Laudna act like her life doesn’t…like Imogen should just be able to…

Her veins crackle, shoulders so tight they rival Ashton’s, and when the sound of Laudna’s boots stepping closer reaches her ears, she says, sharp and unyielding, “Not now.” 

The steps halt immediately, the room quiet aside from the settling fabric of Laudna’s skirt and Imogen’s heaving breath. 

“I’m…I really am sorry, darling.” 

Her body moves before her brain can stop it, eyes bright and anger flaring as she turns fast enough to surprise them both. Laudna is running her eyes up and down Imogen’s body a bit frantically, like she’s working out a puzzle, and it’s not fear, but it’s a close enough cousin that Imogen sees a flash of her daddy, hard eyes turned on Imogen in the barn after one of the foals got out. The shame is enough to temper her, but it means all the rest of it comes up instead: anger, still, but hurt and fear and the deep grief that lingers in the corners of her dreams, in the desperate way she sometimes holds to Laudna. 

“For what?” Her voice breaks, but she shakes her head again as Laudna holds out a hand, so Laudna drops it, fists her skirt nervously instead. “Why are you sorry?”

There’s genuine confusion on her face as she says, “For everything in the basement. I know…I know how it must have seemed, when my form of dread looked so much like her. I know it can’t have been pleasant to watch me lose control that way. Being there just…” 

Imogen holds her hand up, light licking up her fingertips, and Laudna’s words trail off, her eyes caught on the lightning running through Imogen’s scars, worry furrowing her brow. Imogen forces down the impulse to comfort. She’s started this conversation, and she needs to finish it. For the both of them. If she lets herself get close enough to run a thumb over the crease between Laudna’s eyebrows, to hold the hand still playing with the material of her skirt, that’ll be it. So she doesn’t, focuses instead on the memory of Laudna’s hands in hers in that room. Promise me. 

“I’m not mad ‘cause you looked like her, Laud. Or ‘cause you…I know what that place was to you, an’ I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for you to be there again. You don’t,” she works to keep the frustration from seeping into her words, “you don’t have to keep apologizin’ for her. You’re not her, Laudna, even though everybody keeps actin’...you keep actin’ like you are.”

She crosses her arms tight across her chest and stares at the floor, blinking hard as her vision blurs with tears. 

“I know I’m not her. I know that, darling.” 

The toes of her boots come into Imogen’s line of sight and she doesn’t tell her to stop but she does back herself up, pressing as hard as she can into the table behind her and wincing slightly as a sharp corner digs into her skin. The boots come no further. 

“Do you? Because it feels like you…” She uncrosses her arms to wipe her palms swiftly across her cheeks. “It feels like you’re just waitin’ on her to take over. Waitin’…” Her voice cracks again, and she grabs behind her, finds the handkerchief sitting beside her pack and brings it to her face. 

“Imogen.”

She shakes her head fiercely, forces a deep breath and then looks up to meet Laudna’s eyes, fist clenched around damp fabric. “Waitin’ to leave.”

Laudna takes half a step forward and stops as Imogen tries to back up further, managing only to dig the corner of the table further into her flesh and guarantee herself a bruise. Laudna’s going to gnaw through her lip, Imogen can already tell, and there’s black pooling at growing nails, ichor waiting to be pulled between nervous fingers. Still, Imogen holds the line, appreciates the distraction of pain, the sturdy wood that won’t yield to her body’s pressure. 

“I don’t want to leave, darling. I don’t want to leave you. I’m not giving up. I promise.” 

Promise me. Her eyes shine, anger forcing its way to the front of her mind again, and Laudna begins to say something, but Imogen beats her to it, words cutting.  

“Oh, do you? Promise? Should I go get Fearne, then? So there’s a witness?”

“Imogen, what…”

“Is it…d’you think I’m so out of line that…or maybe so ridiculous? So naive that…” Her scars burn now, heat across her skin and in the tears pressing against the corners of her eyelids. They continue to leak despite her best efforts, tracking down her cheeks until Imogen brings the yellow fabric of the handkerchief back to her face, letting her eyes slide closed for a moment. 

When she opens them again, Laudna looks stricken, her body fighting its instinct to close the distance between them, frozen in the face of Imogen’s obvious desire for space. 

She presses out through the thickness in her throat, voice rough, “You made me…you made me promise to…in front of Fearne, Laud. Did you…how was that fair? What was I supposed to do, when she was right there? Are you…are you that scared to talk to me about it? You think I’m that…that absurd, that you needed somebody else there to…to keep me in line?” Imogen laughs bitterly, and shrugs. “I mean, I guess I get it. I’m standin’ here provin’ your point, yeah?” She ducks her head and stares at the worn leather of her boots, breath shaky as shame heats her face. 

“No. No, of course not. Imogen. That’s not…” 

Darling, can you look at me? Please? 

She does, because Laudna asks her to, but even as their eyes meet, Imogen’s jaw aches as she holds herself together, shuts herself off, refuses to give up any more of herself. She can’t bring herself to deny Laudna’s request, but she doesn’t force herself to vulnerability. Not now. It’s strange, to put up her walls this way with Laudna, but it’s Laudna who has hurt her this time. 

Laudna, whose black eyes are nearly as wide now as they are when she transforms, full of concern and confusion and a love obvious enough that it makes Imogen grind her teeth in resistance. 

“I’m so sorry, Imogen. I didn’t realize…” Her lips are black with ichor and her hands are in constant motion at her sides, strings of black magic expanding and contracting as she fidgets. “I thought it would be…You were…you were so alone, last time. I thought maybe, if you had Fearne, if she knew what I wanted…what I wanted for you…Imogen, I don’t want you to have to carry it alone. Not again. That’s all, darling. I don’t think you’re absurd. Of course I don’t. I wasn’t trying to…to trick you. Or trap you. I would never. Please.” 

The pleading tone makes no dent in the wall Imogen has put up, is nothing in the face of the voice in her mind, reminding her of Laudna’s words in the basement, the look on Fearne’s face. I’m quite literally a dead end. Promise me. 

“Why are you so sure I’ll have to carry it at all? Why are you so sure she’s gonna win?” 

The tears are constant and furious, dripping unchecked down her cheeks, and she hates it, hates feeling this exposed, but she forces herself to keep her head up, to hold Laudna’s gaze. 

“Imogen.” 

The same tone–love, yes, but something far too close to pity for Imogen to let it lie. 

“No. No. I’m not stupid, Laudna. I know what you are. I’ve been in your mind, remember? I’ve seen her there. I’ve known since the day we met that you were different, and I still…I fell in love with you, knowin’ full well what you are and what that means. I’ve seen your form of dread, seen your body split open. 

The curtains on Pate’s house are made from my old shirt. Your hound has laid its drippin’ head on my lap. For fuck’s sake, Laudna, I slept next to your dead body. Your truly dead body. An’ I sleep next to you every night. Have for years and will for as many more years as I’m alive, if I have anythin’ to say about it. 

I love you, want you, all of you, and you know that. I’m not quiet about it. So why do you keep actin’ like I’m gonna wake up one day and be surprised by what you are? Why the fuck do you keep callin’ yourself a dead end?” 

“Because I am one, darling.” It’s sad, and resigned, and there is ichor dripping down her cheeks now, thick tracks left on pale skin. “I don’t want her to win, my love. I don’t. Please believe me. But I have to be realistic. For me. For the both of us.

And Imogen, even if she doesn’t win…

I love you so very deeply. More than I’ve loved anyone or anything in any of my lives. But I am dead. I’m not meant to be here, and you deserve someone who can…who can live, really live, with you. You deserve everything, and I can’t give you that.”

Bullshit. It’s bullshit. The part of her that understands why, understands what Laudna’s been through and the demons that pull at her, whisper to her, the part that drives her almost always, that keeps her soft–it’s gone, lost for the moment to a lifetime’s worth of hurt, of being abandoned or tolerated, never quite good enough for love. 

She aches as she spits out, voice as hard as it ever has been with Laudna, with anyone, “If you don’t wanna be with me, you can just say it. You can just…” She shudders, hardens. “Just stop pretendin’ you’re doin’ this for my sake, alright? It’s insultin’ to the both of us. If you don’t want me, just say so.”  

“Imogen.” 

She can’t do it, not anymore, so she turns to the table behind her, grips the edges as her body shakes. She clenches her jaw until she’s overcome, until a sob escapes, loud and ugly and broken, and then Laudna’s arms are around her waist, cool lips and cool breath against the shell of her ear, “Imogen. Darling. My love. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. I’m trying. I promise I’m trying. I don’t want her to win. I don’t want to leave you. Ever.” 

She turns and buries her face in Laudna’s neck, her own arms wrapped around Laudna’s fragile ribs as tightly as she can manage without hurting her. A hand buries itself in her hair, nails scratching against her scalp as she’s held close. 

“I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry. Come sit with me? Please?” 

She nods into Laudna’s shoulder, body still shaking, and Laudna hums as she holds her for another minute, pressing kisses to her temple before pulling away just enough to grab Imogen’s hands and lead them both to the bed. They settle across from each other, Laudna holding one of Imogen’s hands between them as she brings the other to Imogen’s face, pressing two fingers gently against her chin until their eyes meet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She’s so sincere, so unfailingly honest, and Imogen fights against the urge to duck her head again, ashamed and sheepish. 

“No, Laud. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t…I know you love me and I know you’re tryin’. I do. I’m just…I’m scared. I lost you once and I can’t…I don’t think I can do it again. And sometimes it feels like you think it’s an inevitability, that you’re gonna leave me. That she’s gonna…

And I get it. I do. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have her with you, to know she’s there all the time. But to have you ask me to…to let you go? To move on? To be happy? With Fearne right there like it was…What would you say, if I asked you to do that? Could you promise me?” 

Laudna flinches at the thought, her head almost unconsciously shaking in denial. 

“I know I…I know I’ve said some things. About Predathos and Ruidus and what it might take, what I might have to give up. But I hope you know I don’t…I’m not bankin’ on that, Laud. I don’t want it. Especially not now. Not when we…” She brings Laudna’s hand to her mouth and kisses her palm, her wrist, her knuckles. “I want you.” 

Laudna rocks forward, kissing Imogen fiercely, catching her bottom lip with sharp incisors and settling a hand possessively against Imogen’s throat. 

I want you, too. I’ve never wanted anything like I want you. 

Imogen lets herself be pressed back into the bed, sighs as Laudna trails her mouth across her jawline, bites at the lobe of her ear before making her way down to her collarbones, nipping and soothing with a cold tongue. 

I don’t want to leave you. I never want to leave you. 

A hand drags at the fabric of her dress, pulling up and up until nails run sharp against the skin of her thighs, fingers moving until a palm presses against her hipbone, holding her down as Laudna’s mouth finds hers again. 

Let me show you, darling. Let me show you how much I want you. Please. 

Later, tucked into the stupidly nice bed, with Imogen’s head resting on her chest, Laudna says, “It’s still difficult for me to believe that you want me. That you’d give up a normal life for me.” Imogen runs her palm over Laudna’s ribs, waits quietly. “Selfishly, I want you to, even though it…it’s not what I want for you. You deserve so much more, so much better than what I can…” Laudna squeezes at Imogen’s arm before she can object, and Imogen snaps her jaw shut. “Thank you, love.” She feels the press of lips against her hair. “I understand why you were angry with me. I…I would be, too, if you tried to tell me to leave you. To live without you. Even if I knew you were doing it for good reasons, as you undoubtedly would be. 

I know you want to be with me, even if I don’t understand why. Even if I worry that I can’t give you what you deserve. I’m sorry that I keep trying to take that choice from you. I'm going to try to do better. I promise.

And as for me…I want you, Imogen. I want to be here, with you. And if I’m lucky enough that you want me, too, well. Please believe me when I say I have every intention of trying my hardest to stay.” 

Imogen pushes herself up to kiss the sharp point of her chin, the corner of her mouth. 

“I love you. I wanna live my whole life with you. A stupidly long and real happy life. And anybody who tries to get in the way of that is gonna have a real hard time of it. You hear me?” She’s not talking to Laudna, and they both know it. “I’m gonna fight for you, Laud. And I’ve been told I’m real capable.” 

She kisses her again, and again, until eventually they settle, Laudna’s breath evening out slowly the way it does in sleep, muscle memory stronger than the reality of her undeath. While she sleeps, Imogen plans. She might be capable, but she’s also owed a few favors, knows how to make sure she’s owed a few more. She’s never really prayed before, but she can learn. For Laudna, she can do a whole lot more than that. 

#imodna #imodna fic #southern gothic #critical role

[yencirilla]

yes i did make a tumblr purely because i did not see enough discussion about the relationship that is fearnechetney yes i did do that. the tag is dry and it bothers me because it’s easily top three favorite dynamics of bells hells for me. 

oh so you have a really gorgeous, mischievous, hundred year old six foot tall faun who likes to steal stuff that is so cool oh and what if i told you that the number one character that is making moves on her is a three foot tall four hundred year old werewolf gnome that makes wooden toys, and WHAT IF i told you that she is totally into it. 

and maybe you’re like oh that’s interesting! okay so what, is it just a joke or something? well, yes at first it is! it’s a game of chicken, of flirting and poking fun at each other hahaha oh WAIT but then it’s MORE.

it’s chetney talking about how much joy it brings him to see people play with his creations, getting to see fearne play with multiple wooden toys he made (dorian’s ship, her wolf, her dolls). it’s chetney being the one to first find out fearne’s postcards aren’t real, and gently asking her questions about them instead of giving it to her bluntly, because it would have hurt her to know the truth. it’s chetney using CLOTH to make fearne little dolls for her to use to vent her frustration. chetney reminding fearne to ask morri about her parents, because it had been bothering her so much.

it’s fearne telling chetney the wooden wolf is maybe her favorite thing she owns, when she has so many things. it’s fearne trusting chetney with the one thing her parents left her, letting him hold it and inspect it. it’s fearne reassuring chetney after he wolfed out that they all had problems. it’s fearne gripping onto the net that chetney is trapped in, holding on and defending him from the hunter. and when she casts stoneskin, which only requires touch, she chooses to kiss him.

a lot of people have insinuated that fearnechetney is one sided, or just a joke, or anything but a romance, but i disagree. i think it started as a joke for sure, but as the episodes progress, it feels more and more like these two characters really care about each other, and understand each other. and the idea that the ship is one sided is so strange to me, because fearne has actively flirted back with chetney since the beginning. fearne got up at 3 AM to wait outside his door, fearne chose to kiss him to cast stoneshape, and fearne was the one that held onto the net and told the hunter to fuck off. i think writing off their dynamic/relationship as a joke just because you don’t ship it does both characters a big disservice when we talk about their growth and how they’ve come to care about one another.

#i know there is like. an intense hatred for this pairing for some reason #but it is so cute to me #a lot of it i think stems from people just not liking chetney #when he is just. a dude. old dude who makes wooden toys oh and he loves his friends so much #i just find it so strange that if it was any other character interacting like this with fearne #(except orym because he isn't interested like that) and maybe fcg #there would be so much more discussion about this dyanmic #idk i just wanted to add my two sense because i don't shut up about it on twitter <3 #CHETNEY POCK O'PEA FAN CLUB #fearne x chetney #fearne calloway #chetney pock o'pea

[utilitycaster]

do you really think the reason Imogen doesnt get as much meta as Caleb (who got every little detail discussed with thousands of notes!) is because people are afraid of a reaction, when its so obviously sexism?

The same reason she doesn't get the exact number of notes as Caleb? No. There's multiple reasons. I'm sure some is misogyny. Some is probably audience size for the respective campaigns, and some is simply accumulation over time - a post about Caleb from 2019 has had 5 years to gather notes.

But also. Are you fucking stupid. You literally showed up because of my tags to be kind of a dick in my inbox. I and multiple people who committed the grave sin of *checks notes* interacting with me were sent hate messages for hours on a Saturday night because I hinted in the tags that I kind of liked Fearne and Ashton as a ship while not being terribly into Imogen and Laudna, and some absolutely deranged loser decided this was an appropriate response. I was called out by someone who had made a blog specifically to block me when I responded to a reblog from someone else on a post I had made stating that Gelvaan was almost certainly not homophobic in canon and that treating Imogen's psychic powers as a metaphor for queerness has a lot of really unfortunate implications. And this hasn't even touched on that one person whose entire raison d'etre appears to be harassing every single person who doesn't think Imogen, Laudna, and their relationship is perfect; and who specifically made multiple alts to harass me. Like, the "It's Obviously Misogyny" people are genuinely putting more effort into being a dick to me than in writing meta about Imogen. You might be one of them.

I talk to many of my mutuals, some of whom really like Imogen, and yes, people do decide "you know, this could be interpreted by someone as too critical, and I don't feel like dealing with the heat" and keep that meta to the DMs or don't share it at all.

You know that post that Matt liked on Twitter that people have been, let's not mince words, jacking themselves off about ever since? If you actually try to say something with substance and evidence about how Imogen has Liliana's fear (the fear that meant that when Imogen begged her mother to leave the Vanguard, Liliana turned her own daughter down, claiming to need to stay with other children) or Delilah's love (which made her cruel, ruthless, and ultimately all-but doomed her) or Ludinus's desire for power (led him to commit endless atrocities) but resists these things in her desire to be a good person - and frankly, I think painting her with the same brush as Delilah or Ludinus isn't even true but I would love to dig into her similarities to Liliana - some asshole who smugly reblogs that post every time someone says "not to be controversial I think Imogen sometimes says things that could maybe be hurtful to other people I think" will throw a full temper tantrum and might send them an incoherent anon calling them a little hypocrite.

It's also fascinating because a lot of the tantrum-havers who will defend Imogen of even the most anodyne "perhaps this is not the most positive trait" and who will cite harassment Marisha received 7 years ago as a reason to not breathe a word of criticism about Laudna - and many of these people joined the fandom about 2 years ago if not sooner - will do this at the very people who have been supporting Keyleth since Campaign 1 was still airing. I mean, seniority doesn't mean anything but if you're lecturing people about something you weren't there for and they were? Clown behavior. Oh and a lot of those people doing the lecturing? Don't really like Keyleth very much, because she does things like "be angry" and "support Orym" and "have a measured viewpoint that doesn't match theirs" and "pretty clearly, along with Allura, who they also barely ever talk about, is directing Bells Hells along a specific path of that pesky moon plot because contrary to a weirdly widespread belief this is the moon plot campaign and not the baking cookies in a cottage campaign."

I mean, half these people forget about Fearne much of the time. The only NPCs I see many of them even talk about are the Vanguard generals and occasionally Abbadina when she's convenient for an argument. Not a damn word for Orlana or Birdie or Dancer or Weva or Rashinna, and they mostly treated Deanna, Prism, and Deni$e as nothing more than implements to shove Imogen and Laudna together but man do they have mountains to say about Bor'Dor. Hell, go to the blog of someone who whines about the way people treat Imogen and look through their meta, if they have it, and the vast majority of the time it's about Ashton and Orym and Ludinus and then they spend the rest of the time complaining about how The Big Mean Fandom is So Mean to Girls but they sure don't have much to say either because turns out if you can't say anything even remotely critical of a female character, it's really hard to write anything, and that's assuming they actually care about writing about female characters instead of just being an asshole, which as stated above is, in my mind, in doubt.

If you have ever spent a single second harassing actual living women online because you didn't like their thoughts on a pretend woman you are, at least in this specific scenario, easily the shittier person. Personally I am confident in my feminist bona fides through, you know, real world activism and how I interact with and support women and feminist causes socially, professionally, financially, and politically in my actual life, but yeah even I sometimes say "you know, I have thoughts about this thing regarding Imogen...but I've had a rough week and I don't feel like having one of the fandom tar pits on my ass" so I'll send my thoughts to a few friends and then idk, write about something else. And I'm pretty thick-skinned (this is the other problem with this strategy; you filter out the more measured and kind and sensitive people first and you're left only with people like me). A lot of people have flat-out given up writing about Imogen (or Laudna, much of the time) because they don't feel like dealing with backlash over some really mild statements. And because you send kind of dickish anons I suspect that it's more likely that you might be part of the problem than part of the solution. So no, it's not the only reason, but it's absolutely a significant one. Congratulations. You played yourself.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #cr spoilers

[tangent101]

Small thought on Laudna's leveling up...

It was most curious in the past to see Marisha choose a roleplaying reason to choose Warlock due to Delilah's increased influence over Laudna compared to her latest leveling up... but I honestly think there is a legitimate reason why Laudna leaned more on her Sorcerer side in leveling up this time. And that's due to the harsh truth that Imogen stated at Nana Morri's Truth-Telling Session.

Let's think about that for a moment. Marisha chose to have Delilah's influence impact Laudna's leveling up at level 7. Laudna had broken Imogen's rock, her relationship with Imogen was strained, and when FCG went berserk Laudna used a new power to almost kill FCG. She was at her nadir.

Now, there was a lot of heavy stuff that went down leading up to this leveling up. We had the "betrayal" of Ashton and Fearne... but Laudna resisted Delilah's command to take the Shard of Rau'shan. She resisted more than once. And when Delilah was encouraging Laudna to seek vengeance, Laudna turned it into "Ashton is a child and I don't hurt children." For all that Laudna has been talking about embracing and using Delilah, she has also been avoiding doing the things Delilah has demanded.

The kicker though... is Imogen. Because Imogen accepted Laudna, she loves her, even though Laudna used Delilah's dread little "gift" to devour Bor'Dor's life essence. And this honestly... Laudna needed to hear this, to hear she is worth loving. But she also needed to understand that while Imogen loves Laudna... that she might accept the things Laudna does... she is not going to be happy about Delilah.

Imogen is very much the first person that Laudna has been in love with, at least since she died and came back. This allowed Laudna to embrace a part of herself that... well, that she never had a chance to indulge in while growing up in Whitethrone. She's got to have sex! (Sure, we've not seen Laura and Marisha state in-game that they are going off and fooling around, but the general impression when they chatted during 4-Sided Dive is that they're having a physical relationship (and "enhancing" it with magic). ^^;;

This brings us back to the Truth Telling Session... when Imogen admitted that she is repulsed at the thought of Delilah watching them being intimate. She doesn't want Delilah to get off watching them as her own personal pr0n service. She wants to get Delilah out of Laudna's head, to free Laudna. That is her big desire.

That was the big bucket of ice cold water on the next leveling of Warlock. Her "enabler" (Imogen) has stated she does not like Delilah being a part of their relationship. In doing so... Laudna has taken a step back, for the moment. Thus Laudna going with a level of Sorcerer and Marisha stating that "there's not much left for me as a warlock." It's going to take a bit for Laudna to end up embracing Warlock again... possibly Imogen dying or being subverted and working to free Predathos. And honestly? I think Imogen's story works better if she is not corrupted. She's not her mother.

#critical role spoilers #critical role speculation #critical role meta #laudna #imogen temult #southern gothic #imodna #delilah briarwood #critical role

[ludinusdaleth]

a travesty ive barely posted meta for artagan here when anyone who knows me knows ive written universes about him. so, a bit to ponder on:

something interesting about artagan - and by extension many fae in cr in general - is how thoroughly he's defined by selfishness as the core value of a fae, when we are shown time & again even before artagan gets his redemption arc that that isnt true.

now, arti is selfish. hes the definition of lust, & sloth, & sheer debauchery. he'd rather sit back than help even his favorite little tiefling (at first - more on that later). he would rather abandon his followers to an island that would destroy their memory than attempt to lead them.

but.

he planned for his followers to land on rumblecusp because to him, a fae, losing memories was completely Insignificant - and he literally did some of their paperwork to help them along, and did the work to ensure travelercon left them with each other. he was benevolent enough to vm their first meeting, showing incredible patience despite their disregard for him. he saved vex from drowning. he chose to befriend jester after seeing her be hurt by lord sharpe's son. he comforted jester when he could, when he never needed to. this is all before The Travelercon Kick, before he agreed to help the m9 into the feywild & shift time for them for no price, before he helped jester battle trent/omentis and made sure his spells did not hurt innocent bystanders.

this isnt some garuntee that he, pre-jester, was any saint. but what sticks out to me is how much the trait of selfishness is vastly applied to him. not only does sehanine's angel refer to him as a selfish creature twice, but he refers to himself that way the episode before. it is as if he has endless history with being called that, as if he is the most vile creature by virtue of being an archfey, and he made peace with that, leaned into that until jester walked into his life.

which always leads, in my head, to thinking about the fae of this show in general. they are so vastly blanketed as dangerous. and some are. but the more you analyze it the more you see how it's less integral to their being, and more what they accept they are. if youre seen as a monster, and whimsy is inherent to you, you will play the role to see what happens (i see this in characters like ira immensely). we see the younger generation of fae raised away from these generalizations - fearne & morrighan - break the stereotype near entirely. sure, fearne picks pockets and loves her friends lowkey possessively - but weve seen time & again how thats playful, and gives way to so much selflessness she's falling apart at the seams, only just now telling the party her fears. and morrighan shows no possessiveness at all, being shy & near subservient as a waitress. they are living proof that a fae's worst traits are a matter of nurture.

watching artagan is watching some of his peak fae-court upbringing begin to break down by exposure to a different world. i always recall how both he & ira hiss at the feywild for its contradictions, its rules when it's a land built for free wills - which implies the fae are not let to be themselves, but have their culture shaped by courts so strict they wont even let fae leave to exandria. the worst ideas about them begin to shatter the more cr tells us how fae society has fallen into something like an oil slick into an ocean - literal imagery used by athion & yu. the fae's free existence has been polluted.

artagan was our first example of all of that. and how it's possible to become better.

#artagan #critical role #critical role meta #long post #fae #fearne calloway #morrighan ferus #yu suffiad #ira wendagoth #athion zathuda #campaign 2 #campaign 1 #campaign 3 #exandria unlimited #exandria unlimited: kymal #van speaks

[hugahufflepuff1]

Ashton did something that hurt them in the name of being stronger for his friends, to take on something larger than themselves. I look back and see Dorian. Grant it Dorian made a deal with spider queen Ashton made no deal. Dorian did it because he wanted to save his friends from her influence, it was his choice to bare the responsibility of the circlet ( yes in the end they all agreed with some convincing from Fearne and Dorian. But Orym, Opal and Dariax even though he was iffy still said yes bc he wanted Dorian happy and trusted Dorian). He made the agreement with Lolth to give her a champion which was supposed to be Poska and he suffered an alignment change. I just wanna see our two genasis get together and have a talk. And just imagine Orym looking at Ashton and seeing Dorian (that's if Orym knows about Dorian's deal) idk... am I just talking nonsense or does anyone see the similarities between Dorian and Ashton?

#dorian storm #orym of the air ashari #bells hells #dariax zaveon #fearne calloway #crown keepers #critical role #ashton greymoore

[prick-up-ur-ears]

Saw your post asking for imodna prompts, how about BH meeting up with Ira again on the moon with Imogen getting jealous because of how enamored Laudna seems with him?

Or... Imogen and Laudna finally having a conversation about everything that's happened (e.g. Imogen's comment about how she finds the thought of Delilah always being in the background watching them disgusting, Laudna saying she doesn't know what's her and what's Delilah anymore, casting Hunger of the Shadow on the Willmaster after saying that their power should have gone to her instead of Orym, etc.)

Or any kind of fluff or hurt/comfort, I'll be happy to read anything!

Thanks for the prompt!

This ended up being harder than I thought because I couldn't quite figure out where I wanted to take it but I think I'm okay with how it ended up.

You can also read this bad boy on AO3 !

----

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

After Fearne came back through the portal, and much deliberation, they had decided to sleep in the underground temple before all going to investigate what was on the other side of the portal. Now, Imogen sits with her back against one of the tall, jagged stone walls. She doesn’t take her eyes off Laudna while the conversation continues around her, not paying any attention to what is being said. Laudna is across the room from her. Not next to her. Not even near her. Practically as far as she can be in the large space. 

She’s fiddling with the elven doll she found, pushing and pulling on the limbs to see how they bend, inspecting the clothing. She pulls Paté’s birdhouse onto her lap and gently tucks the doll inside, then carefully places the whole thing on the ground next to her. 

When she looks up, her eyes find Imogen’s immediately. They dart away in an instant, towards where the conversation is moving along without them. It stings, more than a little. Imogen pulls her knees up, folds her arms on top of them, and leans forward to rest her chin on her forearm.

Everything feels majorly fucked right now.

It hasn’t been that long since their stay at Nana Morri’s, but already the silence between them is deafening. Imogen had tried to explain herself after the unfortunate way she worded her feelings about Delilah, but besides that, they haven’t spoken at all about what they said during the honesty exercise. Not that there’s been any excess of time, but they’ve managed to make time in the past. 

“--gen?”

She opens her eyes, not realizing she had closed them. She’s met with six pairs of eyes looking down at her. How much time had passed? Did she fall asleep? 

“Hmm?” she mumbles, blinking.

“Can you try to reach out to Ira?” Orym asks. 

Imogen has to fight to keep a straight face, keep the edges of her mouth from turning down. She could, but does she want to? Not particularly. She trusts him about as far as she can throw him.

Her reaction definitely has nothing to do with the thought of every interaction he’s had with Laudna. Nope nope nope. She’s not thinking about Laudna saying she wanted to have a drink with him in the Calloway hideout. Or when she told him she liked him “a lot” before the solstice. That would be ridiculous.

“I’m spent for the day,” she replies. Is she being petty? Maybe. “Can F.C.G. do it?”

“They’re running on empty, too,” Orym says, a frown ghosting at the corners of his mouth. 

“One of us could do it after we rest, then?” Imogen says, looking towards F.C.G., who nods. “It’s not like we’re in a big rush to find him, right?”

“No, I guess not.” He turns away from her and walks towards the opposite wall, near Laudna. 

There’s a bit of awkward silence before Fearne picks up the conversation again, her and F.C.G recounting again(not that Imogen can blame them) how they managed to get away from Otohan. It’s not long before the events of the day catch up with them, yawns being traded back and forth across the group. 

Imogen still has her eyes on Laudna, who is now taking out her bedroll and unfurling it where she sits. Across the room from Imogen. Still.

Imogen doesn’t know how to be in a relationship, that much is evident. But she is pretty sure she heard somewhere that you should never go to bed mad. Not that they’re mad at each other. (Right?) (Fuck, is Laudna mad at her?) (Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.) Either way, she doesn’t want to sleep feeling whatever way she’s feeling right now.

She reaches out. Feels her mind attach to the tether that connects them. Can we talk?

Laudna doesn’t respond. She shows no indication that she heard Imogen at all, but Imogen knows she did. Just when Imogen is about to reach out again, Laudna looks up at her. The eye contact is as brief as it was before, and then she’s standing up. She whispers something to Orym, who settled in nearby, then walks towards the wide archway that leads to the next room, a passage they haven’t gone down yet. 

Imogen stands up and follows her.

Laudna doesn’t stop walking or wait for her to catch up. Imogen is several paces behind her, relying mostly on the sound of her footsteps and the silhouette that she can barely make out, as Laudna leads them through the maze that this temple has become here. 

Eventually, they reach a room that is a dead end. The other entrances, besides the one they came through, are blocked by rocks and debris. The space isn’t as large as where they set up camp, looks like it might have once been a small courtyard.  In the middle is a tree, magically preserved like the berries they found no doubt. The stone pathway that surrounds it is jagged and uneven, but the patch of grass that the tree sits on appears to be untouched.

Imogen stops just inside the entryway when she notices Laudna has stopped. She’s facing the left side of the room, and Imogen pulls out her dancing lights to see what has caught her attention. Against the wall is a bench that has certainly seen better days, broken down the middle, littered with bones that are fused and fossilized to it.

“Do you think they knew what was happening?” Laudna asks, her voice quiet. Shaky. At the sound of it, Imogen finds herself stepping closer. 

“Probably not,” Imogen says as softly as she can. 

“Is that better or worse?” 

Imogen doesn’t have an answer. She’s not even clear on what exactly happened for this temple to end up embedded in the ground of Ruidus. Are there more places like this one, scattered throughout the mantle of the moon? Were all of those people that existed in those places thrust here without warning, without any idea of what was happening to them? Would it have been better for them to understand?

She’s just behind Laudna now, and reaches a tentative hand forward to graze hers. When she doesn’t pull away immediately, Imogen slips their hands together and gives a little tug. “Come on,” she says, jutting her head to the other side of the room when Laudna looks back at her with wide, sad eyes. “Let’s go over here.”

Laudna doesn’t object, and Imogen leads them towards the tree, sitting down with her back against it on the side facing away from the bench. She lets her lights float above them, lighting up this side of the room. Laudna sits down cross-legged next to her, dropping her hand, leaving some space between them. She starts to pick at the grass.

They sit in silence for several minutes. Imogen realizes she should have thought about what she wanted to say before she dragged them here. She doesn’t know where to start.

“Are we okay?” seems like a decent choice.

She hates the way her voice sounds, though. There are tears threatening to fall, choking her voice, but she wills them to stay put. 

“I think we’ll be safe here for the night, but after-,” Laudna stops, looks down at the hand Imogen places on her knee. She doesn’t look up to meet her eyes, though.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh. You mean ‘we’ as in… the two of us.” It’s not a question.

Imogen nods, unsure if Laudna even sees it with the way she refuses to look at her. 

Why couldn’t everything have been easier? Why did they have to get themselves thrust into all of this moon bullshit? Why them? All Imogen wants, all Imogen has ever wanted since she met Laudna, was a simple life with her. (Yeah, she was fantasizing about moving away from Gelvaan and having a life with Laudna after one conversation. Sue her). Why do they need to have all of these monumental, world-ending obstacles in the way of that? 

“We haven’t really talked about anything since Whitestone,” Imogen finally says to get the conversation going, and once she starts talking she finds it hard to stop. “And so much has been goin’ on since then, and- and, I’m not sure if I’ve even dealt with everything that happened there, and it feels like more is happenin’ and it’s not gonna stop and we’re not talkin’ about any of it and if we keep goin’ on this way then-.” She has to stop, her voice going higher and faster and breaking at the end. Because what is going to happen if they keep bottling everything inside? 

“Imogen…” Laudna says sadly, finally looking at her. She reaches forward to brush away a tear that Imogen didn’t realize had broken past her emotional barriers. So many barriers she has. “I guess I… I didn’t realize...” 

Does the silence not eat her up inside the way it does Imogen? 

Of course not. Laudna made peace with loneliness a long time ago. She has Paté, Sashimi. Her new doll. Delilah, as much as Imogen loathes to admit it. Who does Imogen have besides Laudna? Who is Imogen without Laudna?

“It seems like you’ve been avoidin’ me. Ever since…” Ever since she said she’s disgusted by the thought of Delilah watching them. But she can’t say it out loud again. “I just need you to talk to me, Laudna.”

Laudna pulls back, returns her focus to the grass, pulls a handful of the magically preserved blades from the soil. “I don’t know what there is to say…”

But Imogen knows Laudna. She sees the way she bites at the inside of her cheek, the way there is something that she’s not saying. 

“Are you upset, because of what I said durin’ the honesty exercise? About– about Delilah?” Imogen doesn’t miss the miniscule wince that Laudna does at the name. That’s all the response she gives, though. She pulls another handful of grass. 

“We can’t get anywhere if you won’t talk to me, Laudna,” Imogen continues, looking up towards the jagged, rocky, beautiful ceiling to stop her tears from being able to fall.

“I don’t want you to be disgusted with me,” Laudna finally says, but it’s so quiet that Imogen can hardly make it out. “If I’m not near you, then… then there’s nothing to be disgusted at.”

“Laudna.” She needs to make Laudna understand. Neither of them move, Imogen looking at Laudna and Laudna looking at the ground. “Baby, please look at me.”

She finally does, and there are dark tears running down her face. Imogen grabs at her own sleeve and uses it to carefully wipe Laudna’s face clean.

“No, stop, you’ll get your dress dirty,” Laudna objects, lifting a hand to try to stop her. Imogen ignores her protests, then wicks away the dark stains with prestidigitation. She keeps her hands where they are, cradling Laudna’s face, brushing back the hairs that have fallen forward.

“You could never disgust me, Laudna.” Imogen tries to push past the tears and the hurt, and put as much earnestness in her words as she can. “I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anythin’ in my life. Nothin’s gonna change that, alright? Not even her.”

Laudna nods, but stays quiet.

“I’m sorry I made it sound like it was something that was your fault. I know it’s not.” Imogen lets her hands fall from Laudna’s face. She can’t tell how much she’s getting through to Laudna. 

“I just… I don’t want you to have to feel that way…”

“I love you more than I hate her. Whatever I feel about Delilah, it’s worth it if I get to be with you.” She reaches for Laudna’s hand, grateful when she lets her take it. “And at the end of all of this- this bullshit, we’ll find a way to get rid of her, and it won’t be a problem anymore. It’ll be just you and me.”

“Just you and me,” Laudna nods. “And Paté.”

“And Paté,” Imogen agrees, and she doesn’t conceal her smile. “Just pick a place, and that’s where we’ll go when this is all done. Wherever you want.”

For the first time in Imogen doesn’t know how long, Laudna cracks a smile. “Anywhere I want?”

Oh, Imogen thinks she might regret this. She doesn’t care, though, as long as it keeps Laudna happy. “Anywhere.”

#imodna #critical role #imogen temult #laudna #fic request

[mimymomo]

It’s truly astounding how the people belittling Fearne’s feelings and growth the most are Fearne fans themselves.

Fearne/Ashley made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want the shard. She stated that it multiple times and went even further to explain that it scared her and TOLD ASHTON that she believed they should take it. They willingly went along with Ashton’s plan because she believed it was the right thing to do but as time went on, she grew more and more concerned but still believed in Ashton who kept telling her it it would be okay, downplayed the consequences (saying his death would be a funny story to tell and that’s all as if them dying wouldn’t be horrible and affect Fearne/the others because they genuinely can’t believe that his life is worth that pain) and said that she promised him.

Fearne said multiple times that Ashton didn’t manipulate her. Ashton wasn’t hiding their intentions from her — he told her the plan, they knew (some of) the risks and Fearne said she went aligns to hit because she thought it was the right move. You’d think Ashton had a gun to her head by the way the fandom is talking about the whole thing!

Yes Ashton was pushing and they never should have kept Fearne from telling the group the truth but she made her choice and it was a bad one out of love and care (and no Ashton did not manipulate her feelings/attraction to them to convince her: Ashton did not and still does not know the full extent of what Fearne felt towards them and when he kissed her, she had already agreed to the ritual and the kiss only made her really second guess).

Now am I saying that she’s equally culpable as Ashton? NO!

Am I saying she owes Ashton an apology? GOD NO! And thank god Ashton told her she didn’t owe them anything, he put her in such a bad situation and that was 95% on them. THEY FUCKED UP BAD AND DESERVED ALL THE TONGUE LASHINGS THEY GOT!

But the way the fandom presents the issue is as if Ashton was this maniacal, evil manipulator who preyed on Fearne solely because she was too good to say no instead of viewing the whole situation as it really is: a man who is fucked up asking someone they trust to join in on their stupidity without fully realizing how much danger, trauma and suffering he is going to put her through.

We can acknowledge that Fearne made a mistake by being complicit and used Ashton plans with the shard to justify (run from) her not having to take it due to her own personal beliefs and fears and use that acknowledgment to further show her growth as a person who will never let herself get thrusted back into that position again. That she can’t blindly trust and follow someone’s self destructive path if it’s gonna lead to her being hurt. This is a good thing! Let Fearne learn and grow from this! That’s what the whole Chetney discussion is about: no one’s blaming her, Ashley’s not dodging anything or protecting Taliesin/Ashton — this is Fearne being honest, taking agency, calling out her actions and growing.

Fearne messed up and was complicit in going along with the plan AND she has every right to be upset with Ashton for what they did and she deserved her apology are two statements that can (and should) coexist!

I’m so tired of people vilifying Ashton and making him come off as this terrible and evil individual when that’s not what this was. They aren’t. And then saying that he was throwing a pity party when in reality they’re coming to the realization that his behavior is his own fault and they can’t keep running and blaming others for the actions he takes and then apologizing and taking responsibility and ownership for what happened and saying they want to be better in the future.

The same fandom that worships the ground Percy steps on despite all the bs he put VM through, actually tried to argue that Essek — a character who due to his own hubris stole a priceless and ancient artifact that was essential to his country’s religious identity and nearly started a whole ass war — wasn’t a war criminal because the Geneva Conventions didn’t exist in Exandria (yes this actually happened to me at one point), seems to be unable to handle Ashton without any sort of empathy or understanding. A character who has been mentioned to be broken (physically mentally and emotionally) with crippling self worth issues who needs to be better in not only how they show they care, but in loving and caring for himself.

These past 2 episodes were so good but gosh some of the reactions have been aggravating

(Maybe I would accept people saying Ashton was manipulative more if they weren’t demonizing him in the same breath and acting as if they’re only only questionable bad egg in Bells Hells…)

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #I’ve been holding back this rant all night and being on twitter was only making it worse #I love Fearne! pls don’t think I don’t #but the way ppl are talking about Ashton and saying that they manipulated her is grinding my gears #this fandom can not handle characters that are the slightest shade darker of the lightest morally grey

[quietblueriver]

Was inspired by @horse-immorality's Imogen headcanons, so I wrote an origin story for one of them. Imogen likes to hang out in Fearne's mind and Fearne does her best to make Imogen blush.

Thanks so much for letting me have fun w your hc.

-

They were waiting to order another round at the bar, hemmed in on either side by the raucous crew of a skyship that had just received their pay and were eager to celebrate. Someone stumbled into her, sending her pitching forward toward Fearne, who used one arm to help steady her as Imogen braced against the bar. 

It didn’t hurt but it broke her concentration enough that his loudly projected curses broke through the walls of protection she tried to build in crowded spaces. 

Shit. Sometimes all it took was one, and now seemed to be one of those times. Suddenly the constant but manageable pressure of two dozen minds’ worth of muffled thoughts became a series of battering rams, and her walls began to crumble, pulling Imogen’s mind in twenty different directions. A familiar pounding began at the base of her skull.

He owes me a round…need to go see mom…where’s the fucking barkeep…think maybe I had one too many…

Imogen closed her eyes and gripped the bar in front of her with both hands, breathing deep and trying to start the process of rebuilding, of getting back to herself. 

It was often harder to fix a breach than to prevent one. Once her mind was open, she had to work to stop it from focusing on every thought possible, and in a bar like this one, there were so many thoughts, so many loud, drunken thoughts, for her to latch onto. If she could just get her mind away for a minute, she could…

“Did he hurt you?” 

Fearne’s voice, the faintest tinge of anger present in her typically dreamy tone, pressed through the din. Imogen opened her eyes to respond, only to be met with Fearne’s face close enough that their noses were almost touching, beautiful green eyes inspecting her entirely unselfconsciously, roaming over Imogen’s face as one of her hands moved to hover protectively at the small of her back.

Imogen cleared her throat and pulled her head back slightly, but Fearne seemed either not to notice or to care, one fluffy ear twitching as she waited for Imogen to respond. 

“Um…no. No. Sorry, it’s,” she lifted her hand and brought two fingers up, tapped twice in the air close to her temple. She could feel Fearne’s breath on her cheek as she explained, “Happens sometimes when there are a lotta people an’ I can’t, uh, keep ‘em out.” 

Her mouth twisted into a deeper frown, and Imogen hurried to reassure her, “It’s okay. I’m used to it. Just need a minute.”

It wasn’t a lie, really. Imogen just wasn’t totally sure she would just need a minute in this particular case. She was never sure. 

She couldn’t help but close her eyes again as she was hit with someone’s panicked push to the door, pangs of nausea echoing in her own stomach. Gods, she hated this. Imogen let out a breath, took another and tried to focus on creating a peaceful place for herself. 

When she opened her eyes again, Fearne’s hand was still planted at the small of her back, a sort of grounding pressure that Imogen appreciated, and she had leaned back a little, turned her attention to the rest of the bar. 

Her gaze wandered over Imogen’s shoulder for a moment before she returned to Imogen again. “Doesn’t seem as fun as I thought. Reading people’s minds.”

“It’s…” 

Poor bastard’s got no idea…How does it go again? There once was a lass from Nicodranas…Wha’ tha’ fuck’s on tha’ guy’s head…Can have one more, right? It’s early…

She sighed, pressed her fingers against her forehead and rubbed. “I just wish I had better control of it.” 

The hand not on Imogen moved to fiddle with a bloom of foxglove, the pink color a beautiful contrast to the green of her hair. “Is there anything that helps?”

Imogen winced as one of the voices from before remembered and gleefully belted, inside and out, a drunken rendition of a deeply vulgar sea shanty. She wondered, teeth grinding, if Pate knew this one, tried to distract herself by memorizing a few lines for later. 

“Laudna,” she said without explanation, voice a little choked with the tightness of her jaw, which she worked to relax, counting the petals on a pretty blue flower she didn’t recognize just above Fearne’s shoulder. “Or, sometimes a distraction, so my brain can, sorta, get away to fix it.”

It barely made sense to her, but Fearne didn’t ask for clarification, just cocked her head and smiled at Imogen like she understood her. 

Or like she wanted to swipe her coin purse. 

Imogen still hadn’t quite learned to tell the difference.  

Fearne’s ear twitched again, a white oleander shifting with the motion, and she blinked, leaning further out of Imogen’s space. She pulled her hand from Imogen’s back to rest on her bicep instead, squeezed a little. Raised an eyebrow and did it again, harder.

She said, a mirror to her suddenly booming thoughts, “Well, that’s fun,” and Imogen found herself using as a focal point Fearne’s unabashed, complimentary, and loudly projected opinions about her arms, even as she fought the urge to melt into the floor with embarrassment. 

What do they do on farms here? Throw things? Throw horses? No, that can’t be right. 

Imogen snorted, her face burning hot still, and Fearne’s smile lit up. She winked, her hand now rubbing gently. It wasn’t the soothing cool of Laudna but it was good, helpful, and Imogen tried to relax into the touch.

Maybe it was lifting all of those library books. 

Imogen, possessed by an urge she couldn’t process fast enough to suppress, flexed. Fearne’s laugh was as unrestrained as everything about her. It could’ve hurt, sharpened the pain in Imogen’s mind. Instead, she focused on it, on the way Fearne’s whole body moved with her laugh, flowers shaking in her hair. 

“I was just going to try to steal your coin purse. And maybe your knife. But this is much more fun.”

Imogen let out a very ungraceful noise, disbelief and amusement, as she reflexively put her hand to the objects in question, both of which remained where she had left them. 

“Thanks. Not exactly what I’m used to but,” she took stock, the voices in her head still pounding to get in but less distinct now, a move in the right direction at least, “it helped.”

Fearne blinked a little too innocently as she said, “Oh, I’m so glad. I bet Laudna could do the same thing, if you wanted. It was easy, really.”

The heat that had begun to recede rushed back to her face and neck for reasons she didn’t quite understand. Her mind very unhelpfully recalled Fearne’s grip on her arm and she swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, as that warm hand was replaced by a cool one, squeezing in fascination at her muscles.  That wasn’t…she didn’t…

Unfortunately, her mouth was as lost as her mind as she started, “Laudna, um, Laudna has…she doesn’t need to…” A corner of Fearne’s mouth lifted in a way that made Imogen feel very much like she’d been caught, although she didn’t know at what. Finally, cringing at herself, she settled on, “That’s alright, thanks.”

“Oh, right. The music,” Fearne said, almost a sigh, merciful enough to drop whatever had just happened.  “That makes sense. You know, I think she’s like music, too. The way she laughs and also,” she floated her hands through the air and tilted her shoulders and head, familiar motions on an unfamiliar body, “the way she moves.” Both ears lifted happily as she dipped her chin at Imogen. “You know. Very beautiful. She’d fit right in at home.”

Imogen didn’t need to look into Fearne’s mind to know she meant it, and she felt a surge of affection and solidarity. 

Before she could say anything, she watched as Fearne’s left hand worked itself back into her hair while the other wandered casually across the bar toward the pipe of the man next to them, swiped it and moved it into the swishing fabric of her skirts like it was nothing. Her eyes never left Imogen, that same smile lighting up her face. 

Winking, Fearne brought the hand out of her skirts, put her elbow on the bar and rested a cheek in her palm. “You should try my mind sometime.” 

Imogen raised her eyebrows, and Fearne giggled. 

“I mean it. I think it would be fun.” She bit her bottom lip, familiar and unfamiliar again, anxiety traded for flirtation, the dark spread of pooling ichor for deeper pink. Her tone was undeniably suggestive as she added, “If you want.”

Imogen, embarrassingly and with all of the bravado she’d displayed earlier clearly depleted, blushed. Or kept blushing, she wasn’t totally sure she’d ever actually stopped. Still she ducked her head immediately to hide it and was punished with a throb, which caused her jaw to tense again. 

“Only if you want,” Fearne repeated, voice quieter, less flirtation and more gentle concern. 

Imogen managed to meet her eyes. “Sure. Maybe.” After a moment she added, genuine but flustered, “Thanks. For distractin’ me.” 

Their drinks finally appeared, Fearne swooping in to take the tray while Imogen picked up her own water and the last ale. 

Her eyes were stuck on the tray precariously balanced on one of Fearne’s hands when Fearne said with a shimmy, eyes flashing with mischief, “My pleasure.” Her skirts flew behind her as she turned toward their table, offered over her shoulder like it was nothing, “Knock any time, gorgeous.” 

When Imogen settled next to Laudna at the table, a cool hand was immediately on her cheek, Laudna tutting with worry as practiced black eyes checked her over. “Imogen, you’re so warm. Are you feeling alright? Too many people?” 

Her walls were almost entirely back in place, the roar muted again, but her cheeks only got warmer as Fearne’s delighted laugh sounded out across the table. 

“I’m good. Just a little hot in the crowd.” 

Laudna hummed and turned back to Ashton, eyes unsubtly half on Imogen still, and Imogen pretended to pay attention to the conversation, sipping at her water and enjoying Laudna’s voice and the calming cadence of her thoughts. 

-

Imogen was curious, of course. She hadn’t really spent casual time, time apart from some other goal, in anyone’s mind but Laudna’s. They’d been busy the last few days, to put it mildly, but now, riding toward the Heartmoor, they could only go so fast, and it wasn’t like there was a whole lot else she could do right now.  

There wouldn’t be any harm in asking, right? Fearne would tell her no if she didn’t want her there and she could always leave. No harm. 

It took her fifteen minutes to work up the nerve to knock. Fearne’s mind opened immediately. 

Well, hello! 

Hi. You…you sure this is alright? 

Oh, definitely. Make yourself at home. 

She ventured deeper, past the surface level and fully into the space where they could communicate without any kind of projection, where Fearne would have to work hard to keep a thought from Imogen rather than to send it. It was…

Laudna’s mind was beautiful and musical and unlike anyone else’s, and her thoughts were as kind as she was. They were also as strange as she was, which meant Imogen had been present for, among other things: careful consideration of how to use the skulls, skins, and assorted bones of many dead animals; the drafting and editing of at least four of Pate’s one-man shows and a series of undeniably well-written but alternately horrifying (Laudna) or outrageously horny (Pate) poems; the recitation of recipes both edible and other; and the general ebb and flow of Laudna, which was, as she was, haunting and wonderful. 

She had spent years in Laudna’s mind, felt at home there, and so felt prepared for anything. 

She was not prepared for Fearne.  

A few weeks before Imogen’s eighth birthday, a massive traveling fair came to Gelvaan. Her daddy, fresh off a promotion and a raise, was in a good mood and gave Imogen some coin and Sam’s older brother Peter a stern look before sending them off.  

She remembered lots about that day: bouncing in line for the carousel and running as fast as she could toward the beautiful gray horse with deep blue tack and purple hair just like hers; the stick of the candy apple coating on her teeth; the way her heart pounded as she rode down the big metal slide, the burlap sack scratching at her thighs. 

Most of all, though, she remembered the fun house, which wasn’t really a house but a series of large, connected red and white striped tents lining the edge of the fairgrounds on one side. When they made it to the front of the line, Sam and Peter raced ahead, but Imogen took her time. She stumbled through the spinning tunnels and wove carefully through the swinging pillars, pressed through brightly colored ribbons and clambered over the shaking bridges that marked each new room. 

By the time she made it to the maze of mirrors, she was breathless, and as she pushed back the curtain to the big room, she stayed that way, mouth dropping open as she blinked and a hundred other Imogens blinked back. There were three possible entrances, with an Imogen moving down each path, and she picked one at random, watching as she turned each corner ahead of herself and behind herself at the same time. Purple met purple as she stared forward and back and above and below, disoriented and awed. 

She heard someone crying, loud and afraid, heard some teenagers behind her whispering words she wasn’t supposed to say, their necks craning up to stare at themselves in the ceiling as they passed. She understood, felt the little tingle at the back of her neck warning her that something wasn’t quite right. 

Stronger, though, was the curiosity that buzzed beneath her skin. She had no idea where she was, how much time had passed, how far she’d made it or how far she had left to go. She felt infinite and small, and when she finally reached the end, blinking at the steps to the next bridge, she had to stop and reorient herself, moving only when someone shoved past her and forced a jarring reentry to the normal world. 

And of course Fearne’s mind wasn’t a hall of mirrors. She wasn’t at a fair or in a fun house; she was in her friend’s mind. But it provoked a similar sense of fascination paired with disorientation, a similar split from the world, and somehow, from time as it generally operated. And like the hall of mirrors, Imogen felt lucky to be there. 

There was so much, all of it undeniably Fearne. 

In line with what Imogen would have guessed, a series of curious thoughts and feelings flowed idly and constantly through her consciousness. That’s a nice broach. I wonder if I could…oh, look at the bluebird. “Orym, look! A bluebird!” The lyrics to a song Dorian loved. 

And then there was the rest, a simultaneous current at the bottom of the river of conscious thought, all of it moving over Imogen, rushing at times and meandering at others. Sounds of Mister and creatures she couldn’t name, fragments of a time and place outside of this world, words and phrases in other languages, and the presence of something darker, not all that different from the strain of music in Laudna composed of the organic dark parts of her. 

How’s it going? 

Good. Good. Thanks for lettin’ me…hang out.

It’s nice. You’re like a cute little fish swimming around in my head. Stirring things up a little. 

Imogen snorted, and Chet gave her a look that she ignored. 

A fish? 

Oh, don’t worry. You’re a very sexy fish. 

Don't worry? She blinked, her mind’s inability to process the words forcing her mouth into motion in an attempt to assist.  “I’m a…” 

Chet looked at her again, suspicious, and she caught herself before she uttered the rest of that sentence. Heat rushed to her face, and she pulled further ahead of Chet as she dialed back into Fearne. 

Sorry, a…a…

A sexy fish. There’s this one at home with a beautiful long flowing tail with feathers, so it can swim through the air when it wants to. They can be all kinds of colors, but I think you’d be purple, of course. Unless you’d like to be another color, I mean. 

She paused, apparently waiting for Imogen’s input into her…fish form. Imogen, being in Fearne's mind, had the advantage of knowing that she was absolutely being messed with, but she could also tell that Fearne was genuinely happy to have her there, was having fun and being mischievous and all of it was good. The kind of easy fun that Imogen wished she’d had in her life for a long time, even if this kind of familiarity with anyone but Laudna still made her a little uneasy. 

It helped that Fearne was so disarming and so good at flustering Imogen, who had spent a long time trying not to be an easy person to fluster. With most people, she would have backed off immediately, hackles raised. With Fearne, Imogen found that she wanted to stay, found herself sort of unable but mostly unwilling to do anything but play along.  

No, I…purple is good. 

Great. So you, fish-you, have long purple feathers on your fins and tail that fan out and four eyes and two mouths. You sing when you want to mate. The two mouths help. 

Imogen heard, below their conversation, the sounds of what must have been the fish song, a surprisingly deep wail that moved into shorter bursts of sound in different pitches. It didn’t sound particularly sexy to her. 

As if she’d heard her, Fearne immediately asserted: Very sexy. I don’t know how it would change with your accent though… 

The sounds shifted slightly, a different intonation and it kept adjusting for a moment.  

Maybe like that. Do you sing? You-you not fish-you, I mean.

Imogen was distracted because the wailing sounds had multiplied. A couple? A call and response? Or maybe they competed? 

Imogen? 

Sorry. Sorry. What? 

Do you sing? 

Sometimes. I’m not…I don’t…

Oh, is it like fish-you? 

Is it like fish-me? 

Do you save it for mating? 

Imogen choked on air, loudly enough that Laudna turned back to look at her, concerned. 

“Imogen? Are you alright?”

She grabbed clumsily for her waterskin and sipped until she felt her face cool. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Sorry. Think…think I swallowed a bug?” 

Oh, that’s nice. Fish-you likes bugs, too. You have lots in common. 

The mating call of fish-Imogen and her companions increased in volume. 

Does this sound about right? Is there someone else I should ask? 

Imogen issued a fond and emphatic, Shut up, Fearne, oh my gods.

Fearne's laughter bubbled up inside her, washing over Imogen before it spilled out into the world, loud and joyous.

#imogen temult #fearne calloway #cr prompt fic #sort of

[caeslxys]

also on the topic of meaningful consequences re: character death I don't understand the take that death in fantasy requires physical permanency to matter or give a story "stakes". death is permanent regardless. Do you really think that if they get her back, they'll just go back to normal? That these characters are not forever fundamentally changed from this, that Laudna will not be fundamentally changed from this?

That Imogen's world will be less fractured, that she won't be even more of an anxious wreck now that what she stands to lose has been put into vivid clarity? That Orym won't still carry the guilt of being the chosen, that he will be less haunted by the connections he drew to his own grief with Will to Imogen's with Laudna? That Fearne won't look at Laudna and think of that coin flip, of her choice, and what that means for her and how she loves? That FCG and Ashton won't think to this and be reminded of the people they've hurt or been hurt by, and what this effort and what this grief means for how they view the hells?

That Laudna, who has been so blasé about life and if she's alive and what being alive even means for someone like her, won't wake up surrounded by family and by love and be driven to reexamine everything she's taught herself in 28 years of isolation to cope with the trauma of Whitestone? That this, maybe, will be the driving force she needed to realize that there are things she wants to live for?

It might be that I'm just biased, but I'm not sure what stakes Laudna perma-dying adds aside from just presenting the characters with the knowledge they all already have that they can, in fact, die. that what they're up against is incomprehensibly powerful and dangerous. The stakes already feel so impossibly high when you think of what and who they are preparing to face. frankly the aftermath of this combat alone, even if everything had gone perfect and everyone had gotten back up a-okay, would have set that tone.

I don't know, regardless I'll be happy to watch whatever story they choose to tell unfold as it does, but it strikes me that so many people seem to think that death only matters if there is a physical absence.

#critical role #laudna #bells hells #I do want to specify though that this is my own interpretation of the situation from my view as a writer of the narrative #and my own interpretation of the situation as an audience member #I know death does not care for narration in real life and that dnd can be cathartic for those very reasons #that. to me. is a separate argument from what I'm trying to say here #I also have Thoughts about how. narratively. laudna coming back is the better story for Specifically bells hells and how they operate #individually and as a unit #and how I think a lot of people are blinded by the specific way molly effected the mighty nein #and I just do not think this is the same scenario At All #and also. if I may put out a more biased take. I don't necessarily Want the same impetus and the same story Again #this is bells hells! I want theirs! and they want to bring back laudna #also. like. the whole death only matters if it's permanent thing falls apart immediately bc like. it's laudna #y'know. the undead one. is her story lesser for having lived? is vox machina's? #anyway feel free to ignore this I'm just throwing thoughts out into the wind bc if I keep them in my brain I'll implode #and Twitter has a 140 character limit and I am long-winded

[cringefaecompilation]

delilah briarwood and laudna’s relationship can be seen as a metaphor for many things, but i think something that’s been overlooked is their class disparity and how it ties into laudna’s desires.

delilah, obviously, is a greedy upper-class noblewoman, and the fact that laudna’s spell to assist her is called Hunger of the Shadow is not unnoticed. she is the pale man of exandria, slaughtering innocents to feed on when she’s got a whole banquet in front of her just so she can thrive off their suffering.

bringing back her husband wasn’t good enough for her. taking over whitestone wasn’t good enough for her. causing the apocalypse wasn’t good enough for her. it’s not enough for delilah. nothing is. delilah kept taking more and more, tearing down everyone that got in her way and nothing ever sated her until she was – and is now – fundamentally a shell of a person.

which is ironic given what happened to poor matilda bradbury.

matilda just wanted to be like the nice rich ladies at the parties that also just so happened to be magic. she went to castle whitestone just for the chance to learn! she wanted to learn! she wanted to get out of a horrible living situation and maybe get an in if she was nice enough to the lord and lady.

we’ve seen the aftermath of that situation, and it is laudna.

in both a literal and metaphorical sense, delilah is vicariously living through laudna. she’s part abusive caretaker, part intrusive thought and she operates as a parasite. if laudna keeps tearing people down, then maybe she’ll finally be worthy enough in delilah’s eyes. after all, delilah didn’t care about hurting people to get what she wanted. and she’s so nice to her when she obeys, so it’s not like there aren’t some benefits to having her in her head. maybe this time she’ll finally be good enough to be just as powerful as delilah and deserve to be a proper lady and not just a lowly commoner!

this grooming and breaking down of boundaries are how delilah keeps laudna in line. because deep down laudna knows that what she is doing is wrong. she knows that hurting people is bad and genuinely wants the best for people, but she herself said that it’s hard to make a distinction between herself and delilah when the prospect of gaining power is on the line.

laudna’s desire to gain power is proving she not only deserves to be alive, but that she deserves to have a seat at the table. the problem is that she's lost the plot on what that means for her. she sees herself as a dead end completely unable to move on from her station in life. if she gains power, it'll just be for delilah, not her. she doesn't deserve it. but oh, does she want it.

so what actually is it, laudna? do you actually want to be more powerful than imogen? are you jealous of her? or are you scared of losing her and have contented yourself with dying horribly just so she’ll be spared? or is this delilah throwing a tantrum that orym (and fearne and imogen) got that she wanted and taking it out on the willmaster using you as a proxy?

that’s not to say that every single one of laudna’s flaws is literally just delilah and without her she’d be a perfect little saint (laudna wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable if that were the case) but i’ll just say that it says a lot that the woman who’s obsessed with dolls and pretty dresses is ten times more emotionally mature and intelligent than the woman who’s trying to be her "mother" figure.

(thank you to @redscaries and @ludinusdaleth for your posts on classism regarding cr characters, you guys are great!)

#🍃 #critical role #critrole #laudna #delilah briarwood #tl;dr ‘I broke the world for us’ was a sustained karen meltdown video

[captainofthetidesbreath]

Happy anniversary to Critical Role—and also to Laerryn Coramar-Seelie banishing two primordials with her Leywright. We are in the front row of history tonight, apparently, as the moment of solstice draws ever nearer. As always, I have bingo cards for you. 43 words, all listed below the cut. You can grab your own card here at BingoBaker.

If you would prefer NOT to play with a card with a red background, please use THIS BingoBaker link; the call lists are identical, this second link just has regular black on white text instead of the red styling.

Notes:

"Ira causes problems" does not need to be him turning against the party. It simply needs to be a problem in some manner.

"Problem at skyship" does not need to be caused by Ira.

"Party split further" is for any smaller group splits into an even smaller group, i.e. Fearne and FCG split from one another or Laudna and Chetney split from the others.

"Party re-split" requires first "party reconvened". That square is for if the entirety of Bells Hells regroups, but they then split again.

"new ally" is for anyone that we did not already know was allied with the party. Any Ashari and Janina (should she appear) do not count as we already knew they were allies. This is for completely brand new people.

Just as last week, "PvP" and "friendly fire" differ in that PvP requires a willful betrayal of the party and friendly fire is everything else.

I'm glad to answer any questions about bingo squares during, after, and into the week.

Good luck—to all of us.

contact Caleb and Beau

contact Keyleth

coin flip

tracker orb checked

locket presented

something stored in portable hole

Potion of Possibility consumed

Little Mister

Xandis gets hurt :(

Ryn located

mage hunter golem spotted

Ira causes problems

problem at skyship

Liliana appearance

Ludinus appearance

Morri appearance

Otohan appearance

Janina appearance

Reilora mentioned

Judicator appearance

antimagic disabled

PvP

friendly fire

party still split

party split further

party reconvened

party re-split

PC KO'd

Vanguard killed

new NPC named

new ally

initiative

no initiative

Guidance

Shatter

Bloodlust save

Charisma skill check

Perception check

Investigation check

Arcana check

Stealth check (individual)

Stealth check (group)

Survival check

#Critical Role #CritRole bingo

[utilitycaster]

Bells Hells Level 11!

As always: are there errors or major omissions? Let me know! Your preferred feat or spell isn't listed? That's because it's not my preferred feat or spell, and you should make your own post for your own preferences! Additionally, because level-ups are no longer done at the end of sessions but are rather their own separate videos, I now include speculation for the next level(s) since there's often very little time to speculate on the current level.

Chetney: Level 10 in Blood Hunter means Dark Augmentation and a 3rd blood curse. Dark Augmentation increases his speed by 5 feet/round and grants him a +3 (his Int modifier) to all physical saves. As for blood curses...they're fighting mages, so Muddled Mind is looking pretty nice, but Eyeless is also useful and Binding is very versatile. Looking forward: if he continues to level in Blood Hunter, his hemocraft die goes up to a d8, his strikes in his wolf form go up to a d8 and get +2 instead of +1 and he can use his wolf form twice between rests and he regenerates a small amount when he's below half-health. 11 Blood Hunter: It's a big level up, folks.

Laudna: She leveled up in sorcerer and took her ASI to max out charisma, which I support as someone who always respects a main stat boost. She gets a new spell and I would advise leaning into utility and taking Dimension Door, personally. Looking forward: I think I've made my feelings on the concept/multiclass clear in the past, but practically speaking, if you're progressing in sorcerer, it's probably wiser mechanically to keep doing so. Level 9 grants 5th level spells.

FCG: Begone Thot Destroy Undead improvement, and 6th level spells! I mentioned before that I'm really looking forward to Heroes' Feast. He also gets some big utility spells, notably Heal, True Seeing, and Word of Recall. Looking forward: 12 is an ASI and oh buddy please up your WIS score. A feat that does +1 to WIS is a valid choice, just...bring it to +4, please? For me? Observant would be fun if not super necessary since Orym's got that covered; skill expert could also be fun. But as stated with Laudna, straight ASI in your main stat is always a solid choice.

Fearne: Fearne took a second level in rogue, which grants her cunning action (dash, hide, or disengage as a bonus action) which is quite useful if she ends up in combat, especially since, despite a good HP roll this level, she's a touch squishier following her time with Novos. I actually support this, both because Ashley has a strong vision for Fearne and also because I think keeping the party dependent on the Staff of Dark Odyssey is good for the story - let's wait a bit longer until we get Transport via Plants! Let's take the scenic route! Looking forward: L10 druid is a good level - the Cauterizing Flames feature, which is a bit niche but extremely cool, is one I'm looking forward to. I'm not opposed to her moving forward with rogue, per se; I think if she does, Thief is the obvious (and correct) choice. However, Cauterizing Flames is really very good and I would like to see it.

Imogen: I mentioned Chain Lightning and True Seeing as some fun options for her. She also gets access to Disintegrate, which would be very fun to cast on, say, Otohan. Or Ludinus. Or her mom. Fuck them Vanguard. Looking forward: sorry got distracted by the idea of disintegrating the Vanguard members...12 is an ASI and honestly I'd just take the +1 to INT and WIS. Imogen's got so many feats, and I really think having better mental stats would be a great sign of growth, she's done the character work to deserve it, and it never hurts to roll a little better on a wisdom save (I say as a known dumper of WIS).

Orym: He can attack 3 times per round. This is why fighters are great. If you do not think fighters are great you can catch three attacks in six seconds from these hands. Looking forward: yes! it's yet another ASI/Feat. And once again, I think a stats boost is best. Tank better with a +3 to con, and then he can either get smarter, or get more charismatic if he's considering paladin (note: I like the idea of Orym remaining a pure fighter more, but I do not control the Liam, and he's a reliably thoughtful player mechanically so I'm interested in what he does. As always this is me saying opinions and not being prescriptive). He gets another ASI at 14 (fighters! best pure battle class!) while everyone else is getting class features so that's when I'd take a feat.

Ashton: Relentless rage - keep raging while unconscious! Very punk rock. Looking forward: Level 12 is an ASI and yes not to sound like a broken record, but max out that strength. It's up to you and Chetney, and who knows how much longer he'll be around.

#critical role #bells hells

[ratinayellowbandana]

this is probably a little too on the nose, but as soon as I saw "color prompt" I thought purple- bc.. well. you know. Though actually reading the prompts under purple all of those have imodna vibes so I think that means it was meant to be

if you want a specfic one, i like 1. "You know you're my best friend, right?", but any of the ones under purple would be cool!!! hope you have fun writing!!!!

woo! this one was very fun and tbh i needed the fluff.

length: ~500 words

~~~

Imogen is drunk. 

It’s only natural, Laudna supposes, after the shitshow of a week they’ve had that they might have a little fun. Imogen has her circlet now, after all, and it has been a gift. The defensiveness that has been ever-present across all the years they’ve known each other has faded from Imogen’s brow. She is at ease here, surrounded by their friends, talking and laughing and swapping jabs across the table. 

F.G.C. is off searching for another round while Fearne leans casually in the corner of the booth, reclining against the backrest with Orym pressed into her furry side. Mister is perched on her shoulder, nuzzled into her neck. His tail flicks her cheek, and she swats at him, tutting, with a loving laugh. 

A curious conversation occupies Orym’s attention, but he smiles and nods at Chetney, who is demonstrating a new-old carving technique he picked up from the Ashari. A toy sword rests in his lap, and he chisels away with impossible speed. Wood shavings cling to his hair and clothing, but he manages to avoid the table, accumulating an impressive pile of dust under his seat instead. Laudna makes a note to tidy it before they move upstairs for the night. 

Imogen is warm against her right side, engrossed in an animated argument with Ashton, who humors her with a smirk and raised eyebrows, nodding along to the point Imogen is making the way you only can when addressing someone who is well beyond your level of inebriation. 

Does Ashton get drunk? Laudna thinks suddenly. If his outsides are made of stone–or titan? Is that a thing one can be made of?–does it affect his insides, too? Can insides be made of stone? Would they absorb alcohol? He eats, certainly, but…

She has a vague notion of asking, but they might not even know, she realizes wondrously. How many people have seen their own insides? Her mind conjures gleeful images of splitting him open to see, revealing stoney intestines and a rock-shelled heart. 

With consent, of course. 

She’s only curious. He might be curious, too, after all, and she doesn’t want to hurt him. 

Imogen squeezes her thigh and draws Laudna back to the present. “Y’alright?” She asks, eyelids drooping ever so slightly.  

“Oh, yes,” Laudna affirms brightly, blinking owlishly, “I was only thinking of Ashton’s insides.”  

They raise an eyebrow. “Gods, you’re weird,” he guffaws. 

“Thank you,” Laudna replies, lips splitting into a broad grin. A conjured drop of ichor falls from the corner of her lip, trailing down her chin for dramatic effect. 

“Damn, I’m glad we’re friends.” He wags a finger and takes a swig from his tankard, shaking his head. 

Imogen leans further into her, and Laudna has to stabilize herself against the edge of the booth. 

Imogen hums, looks up at Laudna, “Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” 

“Alright, asshole, I’m not trying to steal your girl,” Ashton scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

Laudna ignores him. “I should certainly hope so,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to Imogen’s forehead. Imogen beams. 

“Gross.” 

“Shut it, Ashton.”  

#as always very unedited #thank you so much for sending this in! #it was very fun #my fic #imodna fic #imodna fanfiction #critical role fanfiction #laudna #imogen temult #ashton greymoore #critical role #cr3 #imodna #cybersevenn #prompt fill #ask