#i will never be over how he is with laudna with fcg with orym

[fear-ne]

no no no you don’t understand. there is just something about ashton “i punch things for money” greymoore (who has been reduced by circumstance into being a tool for brutality, who has LITERAL stone hands and a glass hammer and a hardened heart, who is the product of years of cycles of violence) taking a look at other people and being ineffably gentle with them

[finncakes]

still not over a dance of deception so take these

[utilitycaster]

Wow your Orym tags really are an eye-opener. You are totally right and now I understand the bitterness about this character a little better. I've seen a lot of "...but C3 is supposed to be this and that" takes and I guess a lot of people think they are owed a certain storyline?

Yeah. People feeling as though they're owed a certain storyline is not new nor exclusive to Critical Role; it's been pretty common in fandom for years (see this excellent post that I still think about). But the particular blame being placed on Orym is a fun new twist on this theme.

I'm sure there's people who hate Orym for other reasons; shipping wank is another very common form of entitlement to a particular storyline. I must admit when it comes to Twitter I think some people just yell random lies out into the void to hear their own voice because there is no underlying logic to any of it. But I do think a large number of people who have been blaming Orym for everything for what is now the majority of the campaign are doing so because he has consistetly refused to entertain the idea that Ludinus makes any valid points from the start, and the narrative has pretty much only rewarded him for that.

A lot of people really thought that Campaign 3 "all bets are off" didn't mean like, messing with the narrative structure (they hate when that happens by the way. they acted like Downfall and the Solstice Split and the fact that this has been a very plot-driven campaign rather than one about character backstory are all fucking violations of the Geneva convention the way they carried on, and I say this as a person who can complain) but rather that Critical Role, a D&D-based fantasy, would shed those pesky two previous campaigns of canon (unless of course earlier canon helps them make a point. I truly cannot believe someone made like 5 alts and harassed me and all my mutuals for an entire evening over hypocrisy for...liking one ship more than another when these idiots exist) in order to become some kind of deeply pathetic "French Revolution Except Instead Of Kings It's Gods" historical re-enactment.

We're at the point where like, nothing has validated them and everything they've claimed the gods have done, Ludinus or the Weave Mind have done like, tenfold. As mentioned, the people who were like "oh my god STOP SAYING HUBRIS anyway obviously Bells Hells would NEVER see the gods as relatable" just watched Laudna and Imogen be like "wow, they're flawed and conflicted and a fucked up family just like us." I shit you not, I saw someone criticize FCG's relationship with the Changebringer because "he had to work for it" as if that's not like...how literally all relationships work if you're not an utter black hole of entitled self-absorption. The Kreviris Imperium wants to straight up colonize all of Exandria but they turn a blind eye. There's someone out there talking about putting Rashinna's head on a pike for being willing to endanger the poor Ruidusborn children that...Liliana (probably to some extent coerced by Ludinus to be fair) could have left alone to live out their lives on Exandria. People genuinely channel some anti-abortion "but What About The Disabled Children? Shouldn't Pregnant People Be Forced To Carry And Parent Them" style arguments at Alma's "hey, we have people delay birth for like half an hour so their children don't have The Psychic Migraine Disorder That Made Imogen Possibly Suicidal". The arguments have devolved into "well, canon isn't real" and "but the status quo" as if there aren't ALIENS FROM SPACE SPEAKING AT THE DRAGON VATICAN. How STUPID do you have to be to think that wouldn't change the entire world. Or, to get back to this ask, how desperate are you to maintain the illusion that you are going to get a wish-fulfillment campaign that never once existed? So yeah. They blame Orym because otherwise they have to blame literally the entire cast, and themselves.

[centaurianthropology]

Wow, tonight’s 4-Sided Dive was INTENSE.  There were so many character revelations, so many interesting thoughts about the most recent episodes, but I think my favorite recurring theme tonight was getting to see what Ashton actually thinks of so many different things, how wildly different their take is on a situation from anyone else’s, and how that informs their thoughts and actions.  Their thoughts on Laudna being aggressive projection to hide their jealousy over Laudna’s death ("It’s just proof that they love you and they don’t love me” oof) but at the same time being fiercely protective of her so it never has to happen again.  Caring so much about his new friends, but hating it because everything will leave the second he cares (so many of Ashton’s odd gestures of friendship like the breakfast sandwiches seem like an unconscious attempt to buy love because they don’t think they can get it genuinely).  Immediately jumping to the conclusion that the locket on the guard Orym killed was of a dead child, because the only reason anyone would want to kill the gods is because they got a raw deal (harkening back to his earlier discussion of the notion that if the gods are interventionist then they have decreed that some people just don’t get to be winners).  Being more afraid of FCG’s self-sacrificial tendencies than their ability to go killbot on everyone (they’re going to throw themselves into the fire and we’re all going to go after them and burn, essentially).

Just ... wow.  I am so fascinated by what goes on in Ashton’s head, because it’s so different to what I was thinking.  

Folk were saying that Ashton was just Tal getting to play Molly 2.0, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.  Molly embraced life and was a hedonist at heart.  Ashton almost resents living, and is convinced that they both deserve nothing good and are intensely jealous that other people get good things.  They think they deserve someone like Jiana Hexum.  They are both jealous of their friends and love them so much.  There is so much self-loathing packed into Ashton that they keep tightly hidden under a tough exterior.

Ashton isn’t the Molly of this campaign.  Ashton is the Beau of this campaign.

[its-mekjt]

Favourite parts of 3×95 (potential spoilers below the break)

PART ONE

▪︎ ashley's photo of sam

▪︎ chepeku ad. could have made me think it's a perfume ad.

▪︎ ESSEK THELYSS

▪︎ they got tusk love oh my days

▪︎ WOO HOO SHOPPING EPISODE

▪︎ oh my god, having parts of fcg/things that remind them of fcg in their outfits. i'm on my floor.

▪︎ lesbians with the matching corsets. it's a canon event i fear

▪︎ i just know that armoury went out for drinks that night

▪︎ the pumats + their existential crisis

▪︎ "HIGHWAY ROBBERY" (honestly surprised they didn't try to steal it)

▪︎ sugar daddy dorian storm (and Laura's face as he hands over 2,500 gold. I can just imagine imogen going 'mhm. that's gay'.)

▪︎ do the pumat's have a soul?

▪︎ "do you want- eh we're the same."

▪︎ chetney pock o'pea. maths wizz. high school maths teachers across the world are terrified of you.

PART TWO

▪︎ essek constantly misses leg day

▪︎ 28 persuasion to make essek join their sleepover

▪︎ DORIAN WANTS TO SEE THE SHOW SO HE WILL SEE THE SHOW

▪︎ matt's description of the show. i love it.

▪︎ laudna i love you, please come to the theatre with me and tell people to, respectfully, stfu with me

▪︎ ESSEK QUOTING CADUCEUS: it's not pain that makes people. It's love (crying)

▪︎ LAUDNA QUOTING FCG: it's good to make every day a smiley day (on my bedroom floor sobbing and throwing up)

▪︎ orym keeps looking to the right. (WHO'S ON THE RIGHT. SOMEBODY PLEASE REMIND ME I DON'T REMEMBER. LIAM O'BRIEN STOP MAKING ME SCREAM INTO MY PILLOW)

▪︎ YEAH, THIEVING IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE (why did i think ashton was gonna go for that fucking huge sword earring from the beginning of the campaign)

▪︎ "chetney's sitting in the front row, legs out, slumping in the chair, baguette in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other. fucking riveted." (that's an insight into my daily life)

▪︎ chetney and dorian are my two personalities while i'm zoned out

▪︎ love how they all thought it was kiri (i did too)

▪︎ chetney and his delusions + cloaca

▪︎ why did i think orym was going to get in the bag of holding

▪︎ i fucking love dorian storm. you don't know how much i love him.

▪︎ "i saw my mom mess with time." essek's internal monologue must have gone insane.

▪︎ marisha and robbie casually rping arts and crafts

▪︎ "you're kind of like his dad." "do not put that on me, please."

▪︎ ashley johnson doing the lords work. thank you. (essek thelyss you simp)

▪︎ wildMOTHER

▪︎ I KNEW THIS REMINDED ME OF SOMETHING. GETTING READY FOR A CON.

▪︎ YES ANIMATE OBJECT

▪︎ dorian's face when he's introduced to patê is giving: i have never wanted to be cyrus more in my life right now.

▪︎ emotional support faun and her damaged little halfling

▪︎ 17 strength let's go (beefy boy)

▪︎ laura bailey i am making the same face as you.

▪︎ WHO WAS MAKING IT RAIN. WHO.

▪︎ OH THIS BITCH. I HATE HER (delilah briarwood)

▪︎ nervously giggling

▪︎ travis willingham is a lover and instigator of chaos.

▪︎ liam o'brien giving advice. he loves this.

▪︎ i love this. orym, if anyone comes for you, get behind me. (he doesn't know this is laudna. he thinks he's getting fucked with in the middle of the night. HE CANNOT SEE FUCKING ANYTHING).

▪︎ YEE HAW INNER PARTY CONFLICT

that's all folks.

[unicyclehippo]

release (cr3) for the one word prompt

‘okay. alright,’ imogen says when nana morri gestures for them to go, that all is prepared. no one has stepped into the muck yet. ‘this might be a dumbass idea—‘

‘say it,’ chet encourages, immediately. ‘that’s pretty much the main thing we’ve learned today, right? no bad ideas when they’re just ideas.’

imogen nods, once and then more quickly. ‘right. okay. well, okay. okay. y’all might’ve noticed i took off the circlet—‘ orym nods. so does laudna. the others glance up to where it’s been sitting, which makes sense, being too occupied with their own things to see the tiny change. ‘so. i can look into your minds and then we’ll know who is the doppelgänger.’

silence.

then,

‘it sort of defeats the purpose of the challenge, doesn’t it?’ laudna inquires. ‘you know you’re welcome in my mind any time you wish, darling, but…this is supposed to be about trust, is it not?’

‘i dunno. i’m with mogen. trust is fine when you’re with your pals but if there’s two fuckos in the mix?’ chetney narrows his eyes. ‘bet i could sniff ‘em out. wonder how that works, changing into us. reckon they smell like us? walk like us?’

‘doppelgängers are fucking excellent at what they do. real hard to find.’ ashton scowls at the sidelong looks that earns them. ‘what? i fought one before.’

‘what do they look like cracked open?’ chetney cups a hand around his ear when ashton mumbles something. ‘what was that?’

‘i didn’t get it, okay?’ ashton snaps. ‘it got away. it can look like anyone, of course it fucking got away.’

‘hm. excellent at what they do. got away from you and your hammer… maybe. or maybe you are a doppel and you’re big talking your friends!’ chetney accuses, whipping out a chisel.

‘whoa!’ orym stepped between them, hands outstretched. ‘hold on.’

‘oh, so accusations are a good move but readin’ minds isn’t. got it.’

‘not helping, imogen.’

she lifts her hands in surrender. turns a worried look toward the muck and the altars. they’re wasting time with this. it’d be so easy—read for unfamiliar fey minds, kick out the doubles, grab the sticks.

‘it’s about trust,’ laudna whispers in her ear. she touches a finger to imogen’s wrist as if she doesn’t know - isn’t sure if it’s okay - and some of that is ambient thoughts, imogen thinks, which means it’s gotta be laudna. right? how far did the doubles magic extend? had laudna been thinking about that through both their tests, if it would be wrong to touch her? she grabs laudna’s hand tight. laudna sighs, relieved. ‘it’s about trust,’ she says again. orym nods. ‘what if… we must trust ourselves. our judgement, our instincts. do you remember what it was like to be a group at the start? we didn’t know one another but we had a mutual goal. we trusted one another just enough.’

‘enough to think you guys wouldn’t fuck us over,’ ashton muttered.

‘or you us,’ orym pointed out.

‘point.’

‘so…’ imogen picks up where laudna had left off, giving her hand a squeeze. laudna wraps her other hand tight around her wrist and leans in close, close enough for the floral-rot of her smell to overtake imogen’s senses, lighting her world up pink and bright. ‘uh. we - we can pretend we’re brand new. we need these branches.’

‘i think we can all agree imogen’s herself,’ FCG begins.

‘what! i mean, i am, but -‘

chetney hoots a laugh. ‘you’re blushing over laudna like you’ve never kissed a girl. you have kissed her, right?’

‘yes!’

‘multiple times!’ laudna insists.

‘ooh, multiple,’ chetney teases. ‘sounds sexy.’

sounds like it’s none of your business, imogen says harshly direct into chetney’s mind.

he winces, hand going to his temple. ‘yeah, that’s our imogen. damn! can you chill out? you gotta scream it?’

she narrows her eyes. he flinches, exaggerated, but there’s a smug grin curling his lips up on one side. it feels good to tease and be teased like this. imogen releases a breath she’s been holding onto way too long. rubs her temple.

‘so i’m normal. chet’s normal.’

‘fearne’s been quiet,’ laudna husks in her ear.

fearne’s ears prick up. ‘whoa! ‘scuse you!’

‘well it’s true!’ laudna hunches into herself, uses her grip on imogen’s hand as an anchor, ‘Its true, it is, its true, and none of us would suspect you, she’s your nana, it could be you—’

‘laud.’

‘it could be true,’ laudna says, lip jutting forward.

imogen kisses her. ‘it could be,’ she agrees, voice gentle. ‘but you’re the one who just told us we need to trust.’ she watches laudna blink, then blink again.

‘i did. i- i’m sorry, fearne.’

the faun feigns insult for a moment before she smiles cheekily. ‘that’s alright. i wasn’t listening anyway. i was thinking about trust.’ she eyes each of them, then her nana, and with a very casual sigh and a shrug, steps into the muck.

‘fearne!’

‘we’re not getting anything done hanging out there. orym? wanna get on my back? the mud looks pretty deep.’

orym scrambles up to her shoulders, leaning over her head to peer across the muck. ‘i think i see a path to the first altar. see?’ he points.

fearne hums. ‘i could drown you in the mud pretty easy.’

orym blooms a flower in his hand, tucks it into her hair. ‘please don’t.’

she laughs and walks deeper into the mud, into the test. the mud parts behind her, vague currents pulling through the sludge. it makes sense. there’s such a gravity to fearne. such a pull. did it feel any different? was this still fearne?

trust.

chetney uses ashton’s arm to climb him, keep him lifted out of the mud. he perches on the shoulder of the new arm. laudna eyes the mud warily. it sucks around imogen’s ankles and she knows immediately that FCG and laudna are going to have trouble.

‘ash, wait.’ he flinches when they talk to him now. his mind—she’s not looking but she can’t help but hear—his mind flinches too, scatters like the thunder wasps. flighty, storm front. then reordering to attack. was he afraid her next words would be, stay here? we can’t trust you? kill yourself? ‘can you carry FCG?’

ashton limps to FCG. ‘okay?’

‘sure!’

‘i’ll put you down when you want. you just gotta say.’

‘i know,’ FCG says. ‘i trust you!’

ashton ducks their head. they lift up FCG with a grunt and march into the mud behind fearne, wordlessly following where she leads.

imogen turns. ‘i can make us fly. keep your pretty new dress outta the mud.’ laudna flushes a mottled sort of pink-purple. she nods. her thoughts are syrup sticky-sweet as she meets Imogen’s eyes. ‘i love you.’

laudna smiles. ‘but do you trust me?’ when imogen hesitates, laudna brushes a crooked finger over imogen’s cheek. ‘i don’t think you have since i broke your rock.’

‘i forgave you for that months ago, laud,’

‘yes i know. i know. but there’s a part of you that knows i’m—i’m not me. i’m her.’

‘no—‘

‘yes. and you don’t trust her. you hate her. she disgusts you.’

‘laudna.’

‘it’s fine,’ laudna tells her, so quietly, so sweetly, so sadly. ‘i know. i understand. i feel it myself. but for right now, my love, do you trust that i am myself?’

imogen nods. how can she not? it’s laudna, standing right in front of her. she lets her magic fill her, rise into her skin and out, crackling into her air surrounding her, surrounding them. hooking an arm around laudna’s waist, she lifts them both into the air.

the first and second branches are easy. they’re guarded by traps and quick, muddy creatures they repel and run from, not wanting to harm anything in nana’s realm that can’t be healed.

they’re approaching the third branch when fearne says,

‘i don’t think any of us are doubles.’

ashton pauses. ‘wait. what?’

‘i don’t think any of us—‘

‘we heard you, fearnie,’ imogen says through gritted teeth. she’s trying to run the maths. two doubles. laudna and chet are definitely who they say they are, so is she. so it’s orym and fearne, most likely. right? ‘why do you think that?’

‘it doesn’t make sense! this is supposed to be trust building for all of us. why would any of us sit out?’

‘it’s a trick,’ laudna breathes. ‘a conniving trick. if we are all ourselves—‘

‘but we think two of us aren’t ourselves,’ oryn takes up the train of thought,

‘then we waste time being suspicious of each other instead of just doing what we’re supposed to do.’

‘seems like an apt tie-in to what we hope to do on the moon,’ FCG says, cradled in ashton’s arms. ‘less likely to succeed in our mission if we’re too busy double-checking what everyone else is up to.’

‘fearne,’ imogen breathes. ‘that’s brilliant.’

fearne flips her hair, demurs with a coy smile. ‘of course.’

‘plus, wouldn’t it make us trust each other less if we couldn’t figure it out now and forever more sort of weren’t sure if any of our friends had been replaced?’

‘true, but when you put it that way, that does kinda sound like something nana would do,’ fearne laughs. ‘look out, trap in the mud here.’ orym leans over and drops a white snapdragon blossom where fearne points. ‘okay, third stick, here we go!’

[rynnaissance]

ok so for future reference, if i ever do continue working on my fic, how do we think bell’s hells would be at driving cars in a modern au? i’ve got ideas, but i want to hear other people’s input.

here’s what i’ve got:

chetney: DO NOT GET IN A CAR WITH CHETNEY WHATEVER YOU DO. that senior citizen is batshit insane and he WILL road rage. if someone cuts him off then wherever he was going is forgotten because he has to tailgate that person now while yelling at them to pull over so they can “talk.” i can’t decide if he would have a really nice car or a really shitty one because honestly both fit. maybe a fancy truck for hauling wood?

orym: he’s your safest bet out of the hells if you want to get somewhere on time without fearing for your life. bro is a law abiding citizen of the road. he never loses his cool (unlike chet) and his car is always clean and smells super nice. he mostly listens to meditation style music, but he’ll let the other person have the aux because he’s genuinely curious to hear what they listen to. shout out to orym.

laudna: okay back to the insanity. ALSO DO NOT GET IN A CAR WITH LAUDNA! girlie pop should not be on the road. she’s blasting the weirdest fucking genres of metal imaginable, she can hear nothing else. the music only somewhat drowns out the horrible keening noises her car makes, as if it’s begging to die. that thing hasn’t been to the shop in decades and omits the occasional plume of black smoke that smell like burnt hair and buttered popcorn for some reason? i saw someone else talk about how she’s a crazy driver with everyone except imogen who she drives very well for and never blasts music, and i like that idea a lot.

imogen: it was her dad’s truck before her’s, a farm vehicle meant for rural roads with four wheel drive. it’s pretty beat up, but it’s reliable. imogen hates driving though, as it can be super overwhelming in the city, and prefers to go with laudna. outside of the city, on rural roads where you won’t see another car for miles, she finds it almost as relaxing as horseback riding. she likes to cruise around with her widows down, shamelessly listening to country music. yeehaw.

ashton: should you get in a car with ashton? depends on the day, as they are kind of a wild card. one day, it might be a chill drive with you two causally exchanging stories, like sober “what the fuck is up with that?” other times you better hold onto your seat because you are getting to your location regardless of how traffic is flowing. ashton is the person who cuts chetney off. it may be on purpose, no one knows for certain, but he always seems to manage to find the old man and make his day a little more difficult. if they see someone they know, they’ll lay on horn and yell, “hey asshole!” with a wave and a grin. the car itself is covered in stickers and sharpie graffiti, interior and exterior. you’ll always know it’s him.

fearne: does she have a license? she would say yes. the truth is no. fearne was never taught how to drive, she just kinda figured it out as she went along. because of ashton, she used to think honking is a friendly thing, but had to be informed by fcg that those people are not just saying hi, but are actually mad at her. she didn’t like that very much. she doesn’t seem to be aware that there are any dangers to driving. she’s almost always getting into crashes, which she responds to with a giggle and a “whoops(:” it’s a marvel she hasn’t been arrested yet. there’s also an angry possum that’s sometimes found in the truck of her car, so it’s best not to open it.

fcg: much like orym, fcg is a very safe person to drive with. although maybe a little annoying, as he’ll let everyone go before him at a four way stop regardless of if it’s actually their turn. sometimes though, when they’re under a lot of stress, they resemble chetney more. they won’t tolerate any bullshit from other drivers and yell at pedestrians to get out of the way. he’s been getting better about this though, but still.

[tloki411]

BELLS HELLS SPOILERS!!! MIGHTY NEIN SPOILERS WARNING!!!

Ok so I’m feeling a lot of feelings about the reaction of bells hells to FCG’s sacrifice and the way that one reaction stood out the most and that’s Orym’s. Don’t get me wrong I like orym and his story and I understand there is a serious level of trauma associated for him to be anywhere near members of the vanguard but he does seem to be the only one so blinded by his own selfishness that he can’t seem to help the hells progress.

Just as the hells were about to get some information from lillianna about ludinus and were about to convince her to come with, orym nearly wrecked it all with his inability to keep himself out of the centre of the argument. All of bells hells has suffered in one way or another relating to ludinus or the gods but orym is the only one who is consistent in his selfishness. Take laudna for example every time the hells go back to Whitestone she knows what kind of mental toll it has on her and she’s never quite sure if it won’t be the time Delilah takes over but she never outright says no I’m not doing this because she understands the impact what is happening has on the rest of exandria. She is selfless where orym is selfish. Then there is Imogen who may finally get some answers from her mother that she has waited for essentially her whole life and when orym almost ruins it her first response is to find and comfort him and reassure him that she would give up the potential relationship with her mother.

Even Ashton who has had his moments can see that even though they are all traumatised there is something bigger at play in that they need all the information they can get. Seriously though what do the hells owe to the gods, not a right lot.

It also reminds me of Yasha’s story in the M9 and her desire to find Zuala’s grave. The M9 told Yasha on several occasions that they would go with her to Xhorhas and help her take revenge over the Dolorov for Zuala’s death but every time Yasha insists that while she would love to do that it’s not worth it the bloodshed is not worth it. Her whole story with the storm lord helps her come to terms with the fact that her guilt can be channelled in to the protection of the M9 so that is what she does. Yasha never tries to make the M9 fold to her trauma she works on it with them by her side.

Orym and yasha’s grief are almost the same, the lost their partners and their family in one terrible situation and while the situations differ the outcome is essentially the same leaving them both wracked with guilt and shame at not being able to do more.

Like I said I love the hells and their story how broken people can work together I just was struck by the way these two characters portray the grief so differently and the way that the hells would bend earth for orym and he would let them and like wise the Nein for Yasha but she never would.

[codeopod]

Is This Allowed?

Post C3E89

Laudna and Imogen get another chance to talk once they are on their split-party mission, and Orym is caught in the middle. Yes this is titled from the vine, I wanted to play with Imodna from an outside perspective cause they definetely get lost in their own little world and romanticize things that are probably horrifying to onlookers, gotta love some untrustworthy narration. Enjoy!

Orym watched as the nerves settled in to each of his friends. The weight of the world would be enough to drive anyone over the edge, not to mention the weight of another smaller -but no less significant- planet.

They all carried it differently.

Fearne’s ears gave her away, twitching and following each little sound. Ashton leaned a little heavier onto his hammer when he stood for too long, and his brow was hardly ever relaxed. Chetney’s hands had developed a slight tremor, evidenced by his increased frustration while carving. FCG was hard to read, but his emotion wheel was nearly always verging on “exterminate” rather than “smiley” which was definetely something to keep an eye on. Imogen and Laudna were an odd pair, one crackling with light and the other weaving darkness, it only ever balanced out when they were touching, which they had been doing less and less of.

“So let me get this straight,” Ashton huffed, “we’re splitting up.”

“Yeah, that way we can cover more ground.” Imogen responded tersely. She had chewed off her pinkie and thumb nails and had taken off her gloves to continue, almost mindlessly as she paced the earthen chamber. They had already ruled out the assassination mission, against Orym’s hope that she at least be there for whatever happened. He, Chetney, Imogen, and Laudna were set on the infiltration mission, while the others were decided to join Ira for an explosive distraction.

“It’ll work out Ash, it has to.” He spoke up, squaring his shoulders. “You guys do what you do best, and we’ll do the same. Play to your strengths.”

Something flashed in Ashton’s gaze before he rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Right, the time-bombs vs the high-strungs.”

“I would say poor choice of words but you literally blew up.” Laudna chimed in, spindly fingers ghosting over her neck, Imogen glared at him from behind her.

“Shit, sorry Laudna.”

“It’s alright, it was funny.” She spoke over Imogens “Not funny.”

Orym sat vigil as Imogen curled in on herself, eyes glazed as she watched the violet flickering orb of her magical light dance between them. Their party had split off that morning to infiltrate and gather as much intel as they could before finally reporting back to Exandria. They were almost done, but the pressure had only increased. Especially now that they needed to spend the night in the underground network of tunnels near their target. They were meant to be back by now, and they would lose their telepathic communication soon without Letters nearby. It was all getting messy, but they had determined that it was safer to take it slow. Somewhere nearby, Fearne, FCG, and Ashton were waiting with Ira for their signal.

They are safe. Everything is stable. He reminded himself.

He had been first to offer to watch while the rest started their nights rest, but Imogen lingered as if her light was a fire that needed stoking.

You wanna talk about it? He spoke directly in to her mind to not disturb the others. It took her a minute to respond.

Bout’ how my momma might be dead right now? How if I close my eyes I might see her walk into that storm? How it’ll be the last time I ever see her. How I could’ve probably changed her mind but chose not to?

You couldn’t have changed her mind, not overnight.

Imogen looked at the ceiling, tilting her head back to suppress her tears.… I know it. That’s the worst part. She never would’ve chosen me over them. Not without a lot of talkin’ and time we don’t have.

War is full of ugliness and pain, I’m sorry you have to experience it, but you aren’t alone. You have us, we may be broken but we’re your family too, and we chose you. He gestured to the weathered grey fur of Chetney and to where Laudna lay curled up further away. Us and your spooky lady. We love you.

She smiled a little at that. Thanks Orym.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the soft snores of the old werewolf. Imogen’s eyes were noticeably drawn to the huddled form of her girlfriend just at the edge of the purple glow.

Can I ask how it’s going with you guys?

We’re alright. We talked earlier about everything and we probably still need to talk more but it’ll have to wait.

Yeah, I think a lot of us are holding out for a breather to delve into our stuff.

Some things are easier to postpone, my momma not so much, Delilah too, I just wish she wasn’t there all the gods-damned time.

Is it really constant?

Well, ‘ts what Laudna said anyway, she’s been getting stronger, she even spoke out loud to me and Fearne. Imogen grumbled. Cant stand it…knowing that ragged nasty old bitch is whispering horseshit in her ear and watching all our time together. Makes me not wanna do any…private stuff.

Orym snorted but paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. You know that’s exactly what Delilah wants, right?

Us not doing stuff?

Not just that, she needs Laudna to feel isolated…unlovable…it’s much easier to overpower someone with nothing to live for, she would definitely want to separate you two as much as possible.

Orym thanked every deity he could think of that he was friends with Imogen Temult and not at the receiving end of her power as she shot to her feet.

“That fuckin’ cunt.” She hissed out loud, turning to go to Laudna. Thanks Orym.

Orym chuckled and let his head fall back. “Yep.”

The glowing orb trailed after her, shifting its lavender spotlight onto the couple and leaving him in total darkness.

He couldn’t help but watch as they reunited; Laudna jolting upright to check on her, before furrowing her brow and pulling Imogen into her arms. Orym could only guess what Imogen could have possibly said that had Laudna wrapping around her like a spider keen on its prey. The darkness around them drew closer and the warlocks form blurred, growing in size and shuddering as her bones cracked and grew jagged bark. Her shadows licked and played around the perimeter of Imogen’s light, casting a ghostly lightshow accross the cavern wall near them.

His grip tightened on his sword hilt. He still wasn’t used to her unique display of power, and his gut often told him he was in serious danger even if it wasn’t aimed at him. He had started deferring to Imogen in those moments, to gauge the appropriate response.

The sorcerer slipped into the dark embrace without a seconds hesitation. She held on for a long moment before she drew away just enough to pull Laudna’s distorted face down to her own, hands stained black.

He nearly blushed at the raw intimacy of it all. The urge to reach under your partners skin and make a home amongst their bones was usually, he hoped, a purely poetic notion. They were in a unique position, literally, he couldn’t quite make out what was happening so he figured it wasn’t his business.

After a few minutes he glanced back to see imogen blushing and smiling like a smitten teenager, lips smeared dark, as she swayed into Laudna’s -now relatively normal- form. They were still impossibly close, but their magics had calmed, pastel purples blending into shadowy void. He heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing the lilting crone of Laudna’s laugh echo across the cavern. As they settled into their nest of blankets, Imogen’s residual dancing light faded to a dim glow before disappearing altogether, reducing Oryms perception to just his keen ears.

He really wished it hadn’t. It didn’t take long for the pair to start muttering and whispering again. He did his best not to eavesdrop, but it quickly took a tense turn, and he felt a deeply unsettling energy radiating from their direction. The normal darkness turned into something deeper, a chill skirted up his arms, and their whispers distorted to be unrecognizable and nightmarish. He wondered if Laudna had even noticed all the ways magic flowed from her, or if Imogen had grown so accustomed that she hardly took note. He was on his feet and stepping towards them when a voice broke above the din.

“No you fuckin’ aren’t!”

He nearly groaned. They were supposed to be keeping quiet and covert, not infighting. If this came to blows they would be in for a world of problems.

A light flared to life and shot towards him. He froze, preparing for his worst eventualities to unfold, until it stopped just above his head. It was one of Imogen’s, and it swayed slightly, seemingly attached to him this time.

Thanks , uh, could you guys k-

She interrupted him with a frustrated growl.

“Nope. Not messing with that.” He muttered to himself and sat back where he was before. Luckily, things slowly returned to normal, the room regaining its very faint light from the outside, and the couple quieting down for long enough that he knew they were finally asleep. He walked over and kicked Chetney lightly to switch watches with him.

Imogen wanted nothing more than to fall into a dreamless sleep, but she had a point to make first.

“Laudna?…hun? You awake?” She whispered into her lovers mind as she took a careful step towards the slight lump in their bedroll, shedding her outer layers that smelled like ozone and earth.

Laudna shot upright, concern pinching her features. “Are you alright darling?”

“Are you?”

“Can’t seem to close my eyes.”

“Well that never stopped you before.” Imogen teased.

“Imogen…?” Laudna regarded her with caution as the intensity in her eyes sharpened and locked on to her with a faint blush.

“I love you.”

“I love you t-“ The air burst from her chest as Imogen crashed into her.

“I love all o’ you.” She whispered. “Just as you are right now, okay?”

Laudna could only mumble incoherently, balking under the sudden attention as Imogen closed her eyes, happily tucked against her collarbone.

The cold seeped around them, Laudna’s aura enveloping her just before her arms followed suit. “I love you when you’re all creepy and dark.” Imogen took a deep inhale of petrichor and cedar, her hands sliding along the delicate architecture sprouting along Laudna’s spine as it shifted to accommodate her.

All Laudna could do was squeeze her eyes shut and try desperately to believe the woman in her arms.

“All your gore too.” Warm fingers traced ink across pallid skin. “You’re so beautiful Laudna, inside and out, an’ I would know cause I’ve seen it all.” She pulled her down into a slow kiss, hands smoothing her hair as twigs and leaves fell away to oil softened tresses. “I don’t love you in spite of Delilah, I love who you are in spite of her. You’re kind, and joyful, and crafty, and you love kids and you’re always eager to help cheer people up, even when everythin’ is just awful, and I’m gonna sundre that witch for ever thinking she could dim your spark.”

Laudna’s grip on her tightened with a strength that defied her willowy form. Imogen buried her head back into her now-soft skin and pressed a light kiss to her neck.

“I wanna have a farm with horses and two babies with purple eyes and black hair and a dog and some barn cats, and I want the worst thing that happens in a month to be us runnin’ outta eggs.”

Laudna gasped a breath as her ribs settled back in to place, her shock nearly choking her. “Imogen…” she cradled her face gently, dark eyes wide in awe. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Everything is okay, I promise, I just figured some shit out and I wanted to tell you.”

“I-okay.” Laudna wiped tear tracks from warm freckled cheeks as her own dripped from her jaw. “I want that life too. More than anything. It would be my deepest honor to share that with you.”

“Then it’s decided.” Imogen hiccuped and laughed softly. “Did you still wanna sleep?”

“Will you join me?”

“Can I hold you?”

“Please.” Laudna’s voice was small, but her shy smile remained as she bumped their noses and prestidigitated the tears and ichor away.

“Aw.” Imogen mumbled. “I like when it stains me.”

Laudna laughed bright and carefree, pulling Imogen in for another kiss. “You’re strange, my love.”

“Oh I like the sound of that.” Imogen purred.

My love. Mine.

Laudna giggled, delirious with affection, and pulled Imogen down into their bedroll. Imogen rolled onto her back and tugged Laudna’s head to her shoulder, hooking her own legs over Laudna’s, fingers slipping into her hair to scratch gently at her scalp. Her other hand soothed along the arm around her waist until the usual chill had melted away under her careful attention. Laudna sighed again and sunk deeper onto her.

“Alright?” Imogen whispered.

“The children… our children, if we somehow figure out how to have them, rather than adopt, they might be different than you imagined.” Laudna whispered after a moment.

“What like purple hair and black eyes instead? Maybe we’ll get lucky and get one of each.”

“Or a…teifling.” Laudna added.

Imogen held her a little tighter. “Oh! That would be interesting.”

“You’re not opposed?”

“We could always adopt. But, I would be honored to have your little teifling babies, or hells, maybe they’ll be little patè’s- I don’t care one bit darlin- they’ll be ours.”

Laudna clutched at her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay!” She managed.

“Shit, was that too much?”

“No!” Laudna hid her face in Imogen’s neck. “This all feels like a wonderful dream that will only end in horrid dissapointment.”

“Why would you say that? We’ve come this far havent we?”

“It’s not real .” She began, “I mean -I’m not real- I’m not alive, anything good that happens is simply a nice sentence in my epilogue.” She spoke in a flippant way, whether it was because she believed it, or because it was too painful to say sincerely, either way it made Imogen’s chest ache. A chill traced her spine, and up the back of her neck.

“Don’t you dare say that. I am not a dream.”

“No. You’re far better than anything I could’ve possibly imagined.”

“Don’t get sweet on me after saying this ain’t real.”

Laudna flinched, “I’m a ghost, darling.” She whispered.

“No you fuckin’ aren’t!”

Orym cleared his throat from somewhere in the shadows. Imogen threw a glowing orb his way and turned back to Laudna. “You listen to me. Your heart beats. You have dreams and hobbies and passions. You have a whole-ass girlfriend sitting in front of you, kissin’ on you and talking about making a family. You. Are. Alive.”

“That life wasn’t meant to be mine.”

“Says who? You think you’re just meant to be a hollow shell for a necromancer to puppet? That’s why you were born? You think you haven’t suffered enough to earn a little good?” Imogen huffed and set her glare in the taller woman who was currently curled in on herself. “You think Letters isn’t worthy of love? A family? A future? Just cause his life came about a little differently? Cause he’s two old to feel as young as he does? Cause sometimes he gets the urge to do bad things cause a’ how he was made?”

“Of course not!”

“Well you’re no different.”

Laudna’s eyes darted around, welling up with cloudy tears. “Well, I never thought about it like that.”

Imogen shifted to hold her face, “You deserve this hun, all the good and the weird and the beautiful, you’re just as alive as any of us and shit, you’ll probably even outlive some of us.”

“I should hope not.”

“At least Chetney.”

“…I can live with that.”

They watched eachother in the near darkness, taking a moment to breath as the tension finally faded and the roar behind Imogen’s ears dimmed.

“I’m not letting you go.” Imogen reaffirmed.

Laudna smiled sadly but kissed her forehead. “I hope not, nor I, you.”

“Good.” The last of Imogen’s anger left her in a few hot tears that pressed into cold skin as they hugged and swayed for a long moment.

“Shall we try sleeping again?” Laudna murmured.

Imogen waited until she was almost sure Laudna was asleep before whispering softly. “I’m afraid I’ll see my momma walk into the storm.”

Laudna made a pained noise and cradled her closer. “I’m so sorry dear.”

“It’s alright, really, she’s easier to let go of now that I know more.”

“It’s very much not alright. It’s entirely fucked and horrible. But I’ll be right here the entire time you’re asleep, you won’t be alone for a second, I swear it.”

“Alright.”

[arclundarchivist]

So Fearne is the daughter of Unseelie Nobility that has connections to flame so that’s definitely curious. I am wondering if she will finally decide to take the Shard or not?

Not gonna lie bit worried about Imogen and FCG’s admissions, and I don’t think it will at all go with a “Help Predathos” path but they were walking away from the Gods Bad narrative and now we’re winging back towards it and I had hoped we were past that, particularly with Ashton realizing that he’s been putting a lot of blame on the Gods when he shouldn’t have been.

Bit more worried about Laudna prodding Imogen and Fearne to “accept and become their darker selves” cause boy fucking howdy could that go bad.

Orym talking about how he’s always lonely and seemingly admitting feelings for Dorian and guilt over them, Laudna admitting she can’t tell where she ends and Delilah begins, and Ashton continuing to push the realization of the harm he caused by his own actions were all depressing and interesting admissions.

But Chet, admitting that the reason he tries to act aloof is that he was abandoned by his family accidentally and never thought to find them or learn what happened to them really hurt.

Loved the blind “maze” minigame, and excited for the Werewolves minigame next session.

Edit: Also Imogen saying she is *disturbed* by Delilah’s constant presence despite how much she loves Laudna needs to be talked about. Shit quite a few of their truths *need* to be talked about more.

[longlivedelusion]

A Moment's Peace

An Orym x Ashton fic.

Summary: Orym didn't expect for this to happen, for these kinds of feelings to come back after Will. Guilt ridden, he looks to find some time alone. Except... He's not alone at all.

Warnings: Spoilers up until EP like 65 ish. Hurt/Comfort/Fluff. Mention of a lost loved one, and fear of abandonment and some self-deprication stuff ya know.

A/N: I wrote this last year and completely forgot it, but it's one of my favorite things I've written in recent years. Yet, it's just sat in my notes, waiting to be continued but never did. Or something? Anyways, I'm fully on board with Dorym and Callowmoore, but this was my first ship ever of Campaign 3 before I knew about EXU or anything.

I just love them two, and my heart will always have a soft spot for early days with the two of them. This pairing to me is like two opposites who've lived very different experiences, yet fit in ways that are unexpected. Fill in gaps where the other might falter. And I love that. Ok enough from me!

Enjoy🤍

Masterlist

Orym remembers when it started. The small buds of feelings that began to sprout, slowly growing into a blossom that became too big for him to ignore.

He spent most of his days running around Exandria with the rest of the Hells, and a lot of it meant running towards a new lead or when they were sent to gods know where without much of a choice. So in the moments that they were able to properly rest and settle, even just for an evening, were welcome. And it's here where he began to notice the shift.

He spent a lot of these evenings doing the Zeph'aeratam, laughing with the others, meditating. Those moments were his favorite. 

In those simple moments, he could breathe and remember. Remember so deeply and vividly that he swears he could almost touch his lost love, he was so alive. In his mind he could talk to Will, tell him about his days, his worries, his anger. He could feel a little less alone.

But one day he realized he spoke about someone a little more than others. Where memories of the last day or week were reflected from a point of view that limited its vision to a singular person. Over time, that person became as much part of his meditations as much as Will.

He felt... guilt, truth be told. He always believed in multiple loves and has known this to be true for some, but for him it was always just Will. Always would be.

So when this new friend began to shape and mold into something different in his heart, he felt a guilt towards his husband. Towards himself, despite how wonderful it felt to not be so alone. But their friendship was still new in many ways, still so uncertain despite everything they'd been through.

So as he made his way just a few feet outside camp to do his nightly meditations, the group did as they normally did.

Chetney, attempting to show his alpha prowess to Fearne, Fearne focused intently on some new earrings Laudna wore, Laudna gazing at Imogen as she always did, while Imogen chatted with FCG and Ashton about some new mind travel magic he still didn't really understand.

Orym didn't notice the eyes that shifted toward his back as he made his into the nearby grove.

Settling into a quiet corner under a large oak, none of the local critters seemed to be bothered as he settled his back against the rough tree bark—breathing. Just as he always did.

It took him little time to ease into his meditation, his mind focused and drifting to his favorite destination in meditations. The edge of a beautiful cliff overlooking the Zephrah landscape as his Will sat with his feet over the edge.

"Hi." Orym said, sideling up close beside his husband, immediately nuzzling under his arm and into his chest, "Missed you."

Will shifted his arm around him like he'd always done, grabbing his hand and laying a ghost of a kiss on it, "Missed you. So how's things?"

"Yeah, they're ok. Imogen's having a bit of a rough time right now, but honestly we all kind of are. Things are getting bigger than any of us thought they were gonna be." He looked at their hands, noticing the ways they didn't quite touch.

"The most important things always are. But you've got a good group with you from what you've told me, and honestly? I know you. You're capable of spinning anything on it's heels enough to get rightside again," Will looked down at him and winked. "You did it enough times for me."

Orym shoved into Will's side, giving a little laugh, "Yeah, well—"

"This is kinda nice," said a new voice, a familiar one, their familiar boots coming into view out the corner of his eye. Will sat there, a smile still on his face as the figure sat beside Orym. The voice came in clearer and more echoed than he's used to in here though. "Can see why you step away every night to do your mind, body meditation things."

Orym looked over at Will, the world around them fading slightly, the sounds of crickets becoming louder and louder.

"Go," he heard Will say, echoed. A smile on his lips, "It's ok."

"But—" Orym starts.

"It's alright. We have forever ahead of us. I don't mind sharing you in some of that." He leans down to leave a ghost of a kiss on Orym's forehead before his edges faded, Zephrah shifting out and now leaving him with deep blues and purples of the night sky. He sees the oak trees, the smell of fresh dew on the leaves with a hint of earthy moss poking at his senses, before sensing the strong presence at his side.

"Sorry if I messed up your vibe or flow or whatever," Ashton says fully clear now, a little more nervously than he's usually heard from him. "I just thought maybe I could practice the whole meditating thing some more since I hadn't done it since, you know, the thrown across the world thing. If that's alright." 

"Oh. Yeah, of course." Orym shifts a bit to turn towards Ashton, body now faced towards them. His hands a little more damp then when he started his meditation. "Just sit comfortably first, and we can start taking some deep breaths. I'll guide you." 

"Cool, yeah. Thanks," Ashton says, shifting a bit uncomfortably at first before settling against the tree only a few inches away from Orym. They close their eyes.

"Alright, so we're going to do what the Air Ashari call Ríth'im breathing. It's a simple breathing technique that's easy to follow and should help you relax a bit."  Orym says before starting to inhale, "Like this: 2, 3, 4, hold. Exhale 2, 3, 4, hold. And we'll keep doing that for a few minutes."

Ashton was jittery at first, their body not quite being able to stifle the habitual movement it tended to do on the daily. But after a couple of breaths they actually managed to slow down a bit. 

"Ok, imagine time slowing, 3, 4, and the sounds of the grove becoming a little less each time you take a breath. Hold." Orym watching the genasi, their chest rising and falling with each count as time began slowing down for him a bit.

It was rare that Orym got to see Ashton like this. Not off moving somewhere or doing something, massaging a hurting muscle or just in a constant go, go, go. The only times he's ever gotten to really look at them are the nights they're out here and he's on watch while the rest of the troop is asleep. Not that he watches them while they sleep, he's just insanely aware of everything almost all the time. Especially when he needs to be. That's why.

So to see their usual creased brow soften, to see even the slightest dip in their shoulders, was rare. 

"Now imagine you're somewhere you like being, somewhere you find safe. Maybe a private grove like this or Krook House or-"

"The Spire by Fire?" They said, a smile smile curving up their lips, their voice quieter than usual but still loud enough to unsettle some of the surrounding creatures.

Orym softly chuckled, "The Spire by Fire is perfect. Just make sure you're alone at first so you can focus easier."

"Alright."

Orym guides another round of breathing before settling in again, "Here is where you can kind of sit away from everything and connect to yourself. It's like having a private moment but with your mind."

Ashton tenses a bit, "It's a bit wild up here, I don't know if private 'lone time with it is the smartest thing."

Orym notices their tensing, "It's alright for it be scary at first. Being alone with your thoughts when you're not used to it can be really terrifying. But nothing as terrifying as going through lava I imagine."

A chuckle in response, "Yeah, you're probably right." Silence. "I guess I'm just worried that the more I find out about myself, the more it'll just confirm how broken I actually am. And I don't know if I need to confirm that shit any more than I already have. Fuck, I don't know."

Orym moves to touch Ashton on their knee before remembering the pain they usually feel, choosing to return their hand to their lap instead. 

"You can touch me ya know. It's alright. Hurts but I can handle it." Ashton's eyes still closed as he speaks.

Orym's eyes widen, "How did you know I was about to touch you?"

They shrugged, their body slowing returning to their natural, jittery state. "Didn't. Could just feel you in a way, I dunno. Like I felt it even though it wasn't necessarily there."

"Well, regardless, not sure if touch is the most welcome thing right now if you're trying to relax." Orym shifts a bit, starting to move away.

A stone hand moves to grab his wrist, gentle for something made of stone, as crystal eyes now staring back at him, "It's really alright. It's more calming actually, at least when it's you." He looks down at his hand and his face shifts, as if just realizing the intimacy of the moment. He starts to shake it off before...

Orym reaches back for their stone skin, moving the hand up and sandwiching it between his own. He looks at Ashton. "Yeah, well, I'm glad to be of assistance then." A smile.

A smirk is returned before Ashton looks away, not moving their newly entrapped hand, "Looks like this meditation thing still isn't really working for me anyways, not sure if I can ever really sit still unless I'm drunk or unconscious or something."

Orym gives their hand a small squeeze, "It's not easy the first few times, hell even the first dozen. But with practice—"

"Says the guy who wakes up doing pushing ups." Ashton says, "Not sure I'm made of the same stuff."

Orym knew this type of talk from Ashton well, the self-deprication subtle but always a little present in the way they speak, "You're made of exactly what you need to be. You're perfect." He grew more serious. "Don't let a broken world tell you you're anything else. Because you're—" He stops himself. "You just have to find out what works for you." 

Ashton's leg began to jitter, a small ripple in a still lake. They didn't say anything or look at him, still staring off into the trees like a million thoughts were running through his mind.

"Tell me," Orym gentle squeezes their hand again. "You don't have to let it stew up there by itself you know. I can take some of the weight."

A long silence. Orym almost thought Ashton wasn't going to speak again until he heard a deep sigh come from the genasi, their eyes closing a moment before looking at something nondescript ahead.

"I'm not good at this kind of stuff and even if I do trust somebody its not the kind of trust you have outside a fight or anything ya know? I can trust somebody to make sure my back won't get blasted but when it comes to feelings? Fuck, I don't know."  Ashton looks down at his newly formed lava carved arm. "And things just keep getting crazier and crazier and I don't know if it's gonna stop. And I'm fucking scared that I'll just keep getting more messed up to the point where nobody can be around me without getting hurt. Cause I hurt, and I'm damn good at it."

Orym just looks to Ashton, not speaking, trying not to break their flow.

"And that would've been perfect for me a few months ago cause if you're good at hitting, then jobs tend to pay better that way. But then y'all came along and—"

The blossom grew firmer roots inside Orym's chest.

"Now... Now I'm worried about if one day I'll go too far and I won't just hurt the bad guys but that I'll hurt the others. That I'll hurt you." Ashton's eyes turned to face Orym at last. "I don't wanna fuck this up. I can't fuck this up."

Orym waited for Ashton to keep going or to do something, but a moment passed. Two. Before he finally spoke, "You're not the only one who can mess up. Who has messed up." Orym's tone softens. "But the thing about caring about other people is you choose to stick by them through the good and bad. We all make mistakes, some of them worse than others, but Ashton I choose to stand by you while you learn, just like I hope you'll stick by me the same."

Ashton scoffs a bit, rolling their eyes, "Yeah, well you say that now but who really actually stays? I think you believe that, but then I'll fucking say something stupid or do something stupid and then you'll go." Despite their stone cold look, Orym could see the fear in Ashton's eyes.

Orym stands, dropping Ashton's hand to the floor and moving to stand in front of the genasi now. He cups their face, noticing the tense and confused features before touching their forehead to his own, "I will stand by you Ashton Greymoore, for as long as life grants me time on this plane. You are my friend and I will stick by you for as long as you want me."

Ashton looked to Orym for a moment, deep apprehension in their eyes but also something more. Hope. They before sighing and reaching out to grab one of the hands on their face, "Well shit, I guess you'll be stuck with me for a long time then. Think you can handle that?"

Orym smiles. "Yeah. I think I'll be just fine."

[towards-toramunda]

I just saw this post: https://www.tumblr.com/multifandom-damnation/734280499157221376/laudna-who-died-in-such-a-terrible-violent-way and as an Ashton and Laudna fan I'd love to hear your thoughts because I feel feral tbh

Heyo I just read through the post, and I honestly don’t know how I feel. Like I agree, but I don’t? Cause this time Ashton woke up surrounded by people who are pissed and angry and distrustful towards him, but they stayed and thats gotta count for something.

Last time Ashton was abandoned out of self preservation from the other nobodies. He didn’t do anything morally wrong, just got caught in a trap that left them on the ground bleeding out as a liability, but this time they fucked over their friends and they know it. They hurt the bell’s hells and they KNOW it, and yet the hells stayed.

But its also more complicated than that because right after coming back Fearne tried to bash his head in and break their hammer, FCG told them they didn’t think he cared about anyone but themselves, Chet told him to leave, Laudna ran away because the eldritch horrors in her mind were making her want to kill him, and Orym didn’t say a word (I know its bc Liam was out but… for character reasons Orym has been silent to Ashton).

But Imogen, angry as she was, just wanted to understand why he did it. Stayed with them even as Laudna ran off clearly not okay. She cared. FCG, even as upset as he was, stayed, explained how he felt and why he felt that way, and asked for better. Chet was harsh as hell, but when Ashton stayed and committed even in a small way to be better he was the first to back them up. Fearne talked to them, and came back, and is still very very angry, but there’s a possibility for growth. And Laudna, after running away from them for fear of betrayal and becoming murderous, made them a doll. She made them something they’ve never had before. She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t care for him (I think thats why they cried. Because he did this shitty thing, but she made him a gift and that showed she cared). She called him a child and said she likes children. (And Orym still hasn’t talked but… we’ll hopefully get to that next episode).

So… yes? It’s bad that Ashton didn’t wake up after dying a second time surrounded by loving friends who went to the ends of exandria for them like Laudna, and maybe they’ll hold some kinda resentment about that, but (unlike Laudna’s second coming) he’s surrounded by friends who he severely fucked over but they stayed.

They told him he could stay.

That they wanted to make things better.

They paused their very important mission to scout on the moon and prevent the end of the world to go on a feywild vacation because they wanted the group to be okay. Even after Ashton fucked up so fucking much.

And isn’t that in itself just fucking beautiful?

Isn’t that proof of some kinda love? Of family even?

I’m not saying Ashton isn’t in a bad place right now they obviously are, but their friends have just proved that they’re not leaving him if they can help it.

[cringefaecompilation]

I think what gets me about the fan debate over Bells Hells reactions to the vision from Aeor is that some people think there is a right or a wrong.

That there needs to be a right and wrong for these incredibly conflicted and nuanced characters to rally behind. None of these guys were staunchly pro-gods before this once FCG was gone and yet they’ve been present and ready to help from the time the Vanguard and Ludinus were revealed as threats.

That entire vision showed mortals, primes and betrayers alike making incredibly dubious decisions. There isn’t much of a way to predict what the Hells will think. The only thing I hope this will show them is that division is nothing new or unique to mortals; and the main threat is still this demonstrably evil mortal trying to use everyone with power he doesn’t possess in a revenge quest.

if i may jump off your ask to make a post abut something that's been frustrating me for a while: this was never about the gods explicitly. it's been about power since day one.

it's about both the pro and anti god societies of the world being jingoist murderers that will kill anybody they disagree with. ludinus going out of his way to commit mass genocide on species he deems inferior to steal their power. the eugencist oppressive societies on both ruidus and exandria with the weavemind and aeor. opportunist abusive accelerationist cunts like zathuda and delilah who only want to watch the world burn so they can get ten seconds of eternal glory before the planet is rendered inhabitable. even "good" people in power have their biases that screw over underprivileged folks "for the greater good"

and how the hells react to power: imogen seeing it as an all-consuming force that can kill you (which she keeps getting proven right about lmao), laudna and chetney seeing it as an unambiguously good thing that can get you respect, ashton and fearne and dorian understanding it's bad and rebelling against it each in their own ways, orym and fcg understanding it's bad but resigning themselves to their belief that some people are just inherently more worthy of it and they're only meant to be followers... it's a very complex situation!

and downfall made me hate ludinus more because how the fuck can you watch all that and then proceed to do the exact same shit you condemn the gods for doing? how can you look at cassida being used as a tool by aeor and have her concerns brushed off by the primes and mocked by the betrayers and then proceed to use her as nothing more than "proof" that the gods suck and do the same to liliana? if he digs in his heels and tries to say that what he's doing is totally different and he shouldn't be questioned for his actions because he has a finite lifespan i'm punting him off a cliff.

[masterqwertster]

#18 - Guide, for your Ashton gets deaged into a kid with Bell's Hells scenario.

So here's my quick(ish) notes on Ashton Getting De-aged, just for reference/those interested.

Imogen thinks it's kind of cute and jealousy inducing to see this child version of Ashton cling to Laudna's skirt.

One small, soft hand fiercely twisted into purple fabric, the other fisted in the brown fabric of Orym's old pants that still leave jade shins on display. The careful, determined shuffle of his footsteps so FCG won't have to heal another ring of bruises where stone and normal skin meet. How he lets Laudna keep a gentle guiding hand on his shoulder, a tentative little smile on his face as she rambles about how nice Ms. Alma is and why they don't need to stick around for "boring grown-up business" (which is figuring out how to turn Ashton back into his normal self).

A part of Imogen aches that something as simple and good as this little walk through Zephrah had been denied to Ashton when they were actually this young.

(That her own memories of such simple times with her father are tainted by the distance grown between them. That her mother was never there for something like this at all–)

But it's nice to see the joy they (though mostly Laudna and FCG) have coaxed onto the not-quite familiar face now.

The memories of her own wants, a desire to be part of the peace and happiness Laudna crafts, guides Imogen's hand to ruffle curled hair as she offers her own thoughts on Alma.

"Don't worry. Alma's real sweet. And I bet you could convince her to give you some of those tasty bran muffins with honey real easy," she says conspiratorially with a wink.

The idea earns her a shyly embarrassed aversion of heterochromatic eyes. And a swipe of pink tongue across small lips.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Even as an adult, Ashton's tell for I want food and am thinking about it is quick flicker of tongue over lips.

Then a small hand gently tangles in the sheer fabric of Imogen's own skirts, and she finds a slight blush on the cheeks of the little culprit when she looks to them.

And really, brash and blunt and self-admitted asshole Ashton has no business being this cute, even if it's all because they've been reduced to a lost little kid.

But the small act of trust is just heartwarming.

So is the soft look Laudna directs at her.

[utilitycaster]

I know the unpopular opinions meme finished ages ago, but id love to hear yours on Chetney, especially given the uthodurn arc. I suppose for more specific direction since thats quite a broad ask, what would you say is the fandom interpretation of Chetney’s character, and how does your opinion/interpretation of him differ and why?

Absolutely - and questions like this one are always welcome!

I was actually quite pleasantly surprised by the fandom response to Chetney this week, which was by and large positive. But with that in mind I think that honestly, it's hard to pin down a definitive fandom interpretation of Chetney's character! Some of this is probably the circles in which I engage and what people put in the main tag, but I think at this point people who felt he was comic relief or a shallow joke or "just couldn't get him!" have either quietly adjusted their expectations or have left the fandom, or have always been people only watching for one character and ignored him from the start.

So I think the thing that differs in my opinion, to be honest, is just that like....I've never reduced him to mere comic relief? Like, he's an extremely funny and ridiculous character, but he showed a great deal of emotional depth from early on; if you didn't pick that up from his rapid turnaround on Dorian it's pretty much impossible to miss in his quiet conversation in the Heartmoor or the way he takes FCG's also ridiculous backstory about Shithead completely in earnest. These two things, as I've mentioned many a time before, are not in conflict! I think Chetney definitely skews far more comedic than, say, Fjord; or obviously more so than other Bells Hells party members Imogen; but like, comedy, tragedy, and horror are all connected by the same tissue, separated only by timing, perspective, and expectation. We know Travis can do a ridiculous character with heavy plot beats as we've seen with Grog; we also know that sometimes the funniest jokes come from more serious characters (again, I think an underrated moment of hilarity in C2 was Caleb's early "you look like a nerd").

It's very narrow and not terribly smart to box characters into a tiny contained archetype with no room to spread out, and Travis is particularly good among the cast at creating characters who defy those boxes. Chetney is an old weirdo with a high voice who says truly preposterous things; he is also someone whose life took an unexpectedly sharp slide downward following an impulsive decision, and who then, improbably, found that what many would consider rock bottom was in fact one of the greatest things that ever happened to him. He's incredibly passionate about what he loves, and vocal about what he dislikes, and deceptively insightful, and has a strong sense of justice and a remarkably good sense of how far he can push people with his over-the-top bravado without wearing out his welcome. He's even (heavily implied to be) bisexual.

I also think, and here's where "oh shit we need to catch up on the entire campaign on the Bells Hells page on the wiki" is really benefiting me, people underestimate how quietly instrumental Chetney is in many of Bells Hells decisions. He was not just the person to clock Dusk, but also the person to broker the compromise; he served as one of the more levelheaded party members following the disastrous fight with Otohan; he's consistently been the one to ask Imogen to actually consider her relationship with her powers; he was the one who convinced Delilah that she needed them leading Delilah to give Laudna a moment; and it was ultimately his idea to fly the skyship into the key. As of this level, he literally is the brains of the operation, with a +3 INT modifier to Orym, Ashton, and Laudna's +1 (and Imogen's +0 and Fearne and FCG's -1's). He has an overblown public sense of pride, but is remarkably willing to set his ego aside when he is not the focus. And for all he loves being a werewolf, he also does take responsibility for the harm he has done without wallowing in guilt. (Not that exploring guilt isn't valid as well, but I think Chet's approach is an admirable trait).

To be honest I think anyone who's not on board with Chet is uncomfortable with those final notes. Either they're one of the stragglers still on their "but Grog had a 6 INT and despite having five entire years to get over this during which Travis has consistently played characters with at least a +2 to INT, I shall not change my perception" bullshit, or, more realistically, are uncomfortable with the fact that Chetney (and, on a meta level, Travis as a player) both without hesitation will take the lead when appropriate or needed, but also will step aside when the narrative is not about him with absolutely no ego or resentment. I think that last bit really throws people off, especially people of the 'if the show cannot be interpreted as secretly centering my blorbo at all times I'm going to go into my tantrum hole' persuasion.

[divinesouldariax]

it doesnt have to hurt more to be love!

it doesnt have to hurt more to be love.

there’s been a lot of very good meta about ashton, taking hits, carrying his friends, carrying heavy things for their friends, doing things that hurt, that make it hurt worse, to protect his friends from pain. because he knows how to carry pain. because they’re used to it. because they know he can keep going. because, because, because it’s what he knows, it’s all he knows.

and it’s true. ashton loves them. ashton is willing to hurt more for them, and it’s because they love their friends.

but, but, but. he shouldnt have to. people with chronic pain shouldnt have to do things that make the pain worse. we might choose to, and that is definitely an act of love, but feeling like they dont have a choice, that taking on more pain, silently, suffering without ever asking for help or saying no, i can’t do that, it hurts too much...

because, listen. for most people, chronic pain is limiting. it says no, we’re not climbing those stairs today. no, we can’t lean down and pick something up off the floor. no, we’re staying in bed with a heating pad and telling our friends sorry, i can’t make it today after all. i know you were looking forward to hanging out, but i can’t do it. maybe there’s some people with chronic pain that never have days bad enough that it limits them, but i’ve never met one.

so when i see ashton, whose friends didn’t figure out that he has chronic pain until they literally felt it in his mind, keep their pain under wraps for over a month, never saying no to carrying something (a heavy statue, fcg up a ladder, orym after he fell, laudna’s dead body for miles), swinging his hammer to defend and protect, literally picking losing battles to see if anybody is watching...to me, that doesn’t read as “look at this strong, empowered person with chronic pain who never lets it limit them”.

to me, that says “this is a person who thinks that love cannot exist without a worsening of pain, who won’t let themself pause or say no or even tell anybody that it hurts because he is deeply, deeply afraid that refusing pain is the same thing as denying his friends love”.

and that’s fucking devastating.

it doesnt have to hurt more to be love.