#people are sending me asks about imogen
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Thoughts on Shithead the Bird? I am fascinated by FCG's insistence that it always follows them, unrelentingly, despite the fact that we have yet to see that bird in the month of in-game time we have watched. Where bird go?
Well, my primary thoughts so far are that it has good potential to be like, at least 10% true. Both in a "haha whaaaat, thats hilarious" kind of way and in a "i am once again being sucker punched by Sam Riegel character plot twists" kind of way.
Just for fun, some potential explanations, with varying levels of truth:
- Birds do have an uncanny tendency to poop on F.C.G, but it first happened with a mangy seagull.
- It's 100% true and the seagull has simply been preoccupied since the start of the campaign, but its fuckin COMIN.
- Shithead and also All Other Birds are actively trying to bully F.C.G for reasons yet unknown.
- F.C.G was pooped on once by a seagull. It was a terrible experience.
- F.C.G was pooped.on once by a seagull, which was unpleasant, and also had a french fry stuck in his joint or something and the seagull attacked him, which was a TERRIBLE experience, what do you mean seagulls are not full of menace and evil plans :(
- Its true but Shithead is Not A Seagull. *horror sting*
- (Compatible with any of these other options) Shithead was somehow involved with the murder of F.C.G's party/the aftermath, explaining the vendetta/F.C.G's uniquely negative opinion of birds/this seagull
(Jokes aside, its very interesting that F.C.G, who in the start of canon, was unphased by having someone throw a bucket of piss onto him, despises this seagull so deeply, and for this specific reason. It's not just a by product of learned teachings from Dancer, inherent lack of good in seagulls or w/e- this is about a vendetta.
Moreover, believing something has a vendetta against you requires a certain level of self importance- it is about you, something hating you enough to hunt you down, keep after you everywhere you go. Very, very interesting contrast with this character who consistently takes a "oh well, not me, im not soul touched, or important, like the rest of you, im just here to help" stance.
anyway so like, actually, F.C.G, what the fuck happened to convince you of this, tell me more, little robit.)
#*looks at this after writing it* ah FUCK it turned into ACTUAL meta who put that there#anyway this is all speculative and half joking dont take it TOO seriously but YES its very very interesting.#critical role#cr spoilers#c3e24#character meta#fcg#spar speaks#ask away!#shitpost#fcg meta#speculation#....#shithead the seagull#i GUESS#my meta#people are sending me asks about imogen#which is very kind#but also im holding off on answering till i CAN WATCH THE LAST PART#so sorry about the delay on that. yes my life is massively difficult why do you ask
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Options - Bodhi Durran x Reader
Prompt - They're looking. Kiss me. Now!
Warning: Spoilers for end of Fourth Wing.
Masterlist
Graduation Day. A celebration for all. For those graduating the college and accepting their postings. And for those of us moving up to the next year. It was an exciting time. And I was glad for the distraction after Athebyne. Athebyne where it had nearly all ended. Nearly gone wrong. Something Colonel Aetos had hoped for. Had almost bet on in fact. All day I had caught people staring at those of us who we’re meant to be dead. Wondering and whispering about what had happened.
Movement in front of me catches my eyes as two cadets from another wing sit in front of me. I vaguely knew them. They we’re in my year but that was about it. Due to me being one of the marked ones they usually kept their distance from me. Something about the way they looked at me had me on edge. One of them had a second drink in their hand they pushed towards me.
”Can I help you?” I ask them sarcastically. Hoping they get the hint I didn’t want to talk to them.
”Just thought you could use some company. Sitting here all by yourself. No one wants that on graduation night.” The one on the left says.
”Maybe some of us do want to be alone.” I snap back as they push the drink towards me again despite me already holding on in my hands.
”Graduation Day is a time to celebrate, let loose. Something we can help with.” The one on the right adds.
The way they both smile at me sends a chill up my mind. I had now regretted my choice to sit on my own. I could have easily joined some of the others, but most of my friend group were occupied or we’re saying goodbye to those who were leaving. Which is where Imogen and Bodhi had disappeared to. Gone to say goodbye to Garrick and Xaden who I had seen before coming down here.
”Well this Graduation Day I don’t particularly feel like celebrating. So if that’s your only goal, please go elsewhere.” I say before turning my attention to elsewhere in the room, my eyes catching Bodhi, Garrick and Xaden making their way into the room.
”Most of you made it back alive. Can’t have been that bad.” One of them adds.
I see red as I turn to face them. But I couldn’t snap at them the way I wanted to. I couldn’t reveal what we had actually dealt with. Actually faced. I had to reign it in.
”Regardless I do not feel like celebrating, especially not with you two.” I emphasise the last word with as much anger as I can. Please get the hint and leave me alone.
They smirk at me. “I don’t see any other options for you. All the other marked ones seem to already have their options for tonight.”
God these two made my skin crawl. Made me want to jump over the table and teach them the lesson I know I could easily do. I’d seen them fight. They weren’t bad, but I was better. I had Xaden and Garrick to thank for that.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have options. So if you could move along.”
A lie. A blatant lie. I had no options. No one I could escape to and try use to get these two away from me. And these two creeps knew.
”Go on then, go get one of those options and we will leave you peacefully be.” One of them challenged.
I gulp as I scan the room. Hoping for anyone. Anything. Hell I would go over to Imogen and ask her to play along. We were both straight, but we would play the part if needed for the other to help get out of a situation quite like this. I had hoped she had snuck back in with Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi but she hadn’t. Bodhi. Bodhi could help. But it was different with him. We had a friendship, that quite honestly could go that way if we wanted. Hell we toed the line a little too much. But that’s all we were. Friends. Nothing more. But he would help. And it’s not like I had to kiss him or anything. Right? All I had to do was walk up, quickly explain the situation and hope those two would find someone else to go pester. Though part of me hoped they wouldn’t. I could do this. It was easy. That’s what I tried to tell myself as I stood up and walked over to Bodhi who was leaning against the wall with Garrick. Xaden now gone. Probably saying goodbye to Violet. Bodhi looks over at me as I rush over to him and Garrick. I know he can tell something is up by the way his brow furrows.
”You ok?” He asks as I stop in front of him.
”I need your help. I need you to pretend that you’re into me.” I tell him sternly.
Garrick does his best to hide his laugh with a cough. He mutters something that sounds oddly like “that won��t be hard” as Bodhi elbows him in the side.
”T-that’s an interesting thing t-to need help with.” Bodhi stutters back.
I sigh and nod my head towards the two boys who are staring at us very intently, obviously intrigued to see who out of Bodhi and Garrick was my option. Garrick was a gamble as he was dressed to leave. But he was known to sleep around when he was so inclined. He would have been the more believable target for this. Garrick would have easily played along, but would also give me shit about it later. But I had gone to Bodhi.
”Those two are pestering me and keep pushing that I need to celebrate tonight with them. And I do not. It’s the last thing I want. But they won’t go unless I can prove to them I have another option. Which I don’t, but I need someone to at least pretend.” I blurt out as I look behind me. My blood runs cold, they’ve now stood up and are looking at Bodhi and I, and are about to walk over. Shit., I barely think before the words leave my mouth. “They’re looking. Kiss me.”
”Ah….”
”NOW!”
Bodhi just looks at me shocked. Frozen in place. Shit. I step forward and cup his face between my hands as I pull him down into a kiss. I feel Bodhi go rigged as our lips touch. As my lips meet his, its like it ignites a fire in me. A fire I had never felt before. I wrap my hands around his neck in an effort to deepen the kiss as I step closer. As I lightly trace his lip with my tongue, something in Bodhi snaps. His hands that were frozen at his side come to grip my hips and pull me flush against him. His body relaxing as he eases into the kiss. A small groan rumbling through him as our tongues meet. A cough next to us has us breaking apart to a very amused Garrick smirking at us as he motions with his head. I turn my gaze to see they’ve stormed off to another table and a group of girls from another squad. I go to step back but Bodhi’s grip on my hips tighten as he holds me against him. I look back at him to see him staring at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.
”Have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Garrick teases before pushing off the wall, leaving us alone as he heads outside.
Bodhi continues to stare at me, as if he’s shocked and cant believe what has just happened. As if it was a dream. A dream he had been waiting to come true. Like he had been waiting for me to toe that line just a little more. To take that first step he was too scared to. But slowly a smile breaks out over his face.
”Would you object to not pretending to celebrate with me tonight?” He finally asks, in a way that almost reminds me of the confidence that Garrick and Xaden have.
”Not at all.” I tell him before giving him a quick kiss, grabbing his hand and leading him up to the third year rooms.
#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#the fourth wing#bodhi durran one shot#bodhi durran#bodhi fourth wing#bodhi durran x reader
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❝on my cloud, i got some space for you.❞
read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.
A/N: alright, i listened to the poll. this isn’t edited so ignore any mistakes. please leave feedback in the comments ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv
Chapter Summary: the sweetest baker is surrounded by love on the anniversary of her parent's passing.
Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression, panic attacks, grief, fluff, comfort, lmk if i forgot something.
Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.
My throat croaks out a couple of notes as I hum along to the song in my ears on Wednesday. The calming smell of lemons wafts through the room reminding me of my mother. She always used to bake lemon cookies and cakes. Now the smell of sugary citrus envelopes me like a hug.
I take a break, reaching for my water bottle when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Abandoning my attempts to take a sip, I take out my earbuds.
When I turn around I see Chloe standing behind me, looking past my body at what I’m making. “I'm not trying to be rude but are we rebranding or something? Everything's lemon-flavored,” she points out with her thumb towards the front of the store.
Perspiration instantly begins collecting on top of my skin. “Oh, shit. No, I’m sorry,” I apologize, wiping my hands on my apron. “I don't know why I did that,” I murmur and my eyes drift behind her.
I’ve been in an odd daze all week, unable to focus and even Joel has noticed. I’m pretty sure he told Ellie to take it easy on me this week since she hasn’t been around much. Then again, she has been hanging at the Austin a lot more since the whole Thanksgiving fiasco. I can’t put my finger on it, but he promised he was going to take off and help support me all day today. I wonder if he likes lemon cakes.
Chloe waves her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. Her brows knit and concern washes over her face. “Are you okay?” she questions.
I nod, stepping past her to wrap up in the kitchen. “Yeah. I don't know what's up with me today. I just feel weird,” I remain vulnerable with her.
Chloe approaches the island I’m standing at, putting her hands on the table and leaning forward. “Ginny, love,” she looks at me as though I should already know what’s going on.
I pick up a sanitization rag and wring it out to begin cleaning the tabletop. “What?” I snip. I hate suspense.
She bites the inside of her cheek, hollowing out her mouth. An awkward silence fills the room and I curse myself for sending the others home so early. “You usually don't work today,” she points out.
I work every day, that’s the perks of owning your own bakery. “What are you talking about? it's just Friday,” I point out when the double doors to the kitchen smack open, letting in a cold gust of air.
Leo stomps in with his arms crossed, wearing black shoes and a matching tie wrapped around his neck. “Why are you working?” he chastizes, as he gets closer.
My once slow movements of cleaning pick up in frustration. I begin furiously scrubbing a stain in the metal that will realistically be there forever. “Why do people keep asking me that?” I groan.
My eyes return to focus on the stain. The fucking stain has to come out. Right now, right now, right now. “Imogen,” Leo sighs kindly. He puts his hands on my waist, pulling me backward from the procrastination. “Let’s go chat, hmm?”
I sigh, passing the cleaning products to Chloe and following Leo into the front of the bakery. He heads straight for my favorite booth, secluded in the back of the bakery towards the widows.
“You're scaring me,” I divulge, sliding into the Tiffany blue pleather seat.
Leo’s eyebrow raises before he seemingly realizes his facial expressions, reeling it back in. Men. “Relax. Have you talked to Joel today?” he questions.
“Yeah, this morning. He said to call him if I needed anything today.”
Leo leans forward across the acrylic table. “Ginny, it's December 18th,” he rasps and his words hit me like a truck.
December 18th. The day that my parents were crushed between two trucks on Interstate 290. It was unexpected and their business ties to Europe left me suddenly alone and having to clean up their shit for myself.
It took months to secure an end to it all. Although I wasn’t as close with my dad as I was with my mom, I still miss him just as much.
They say after traumatic events there’s an increase in marriages, divorces, and disappearances. As soon as I got the call, I quit and became fully invested in doing only the shit I wanted to. One of which included opening my bakery. I divorced nursing, disappeared further from the north side, and married baking.
You knew. Of course, you knew. That’s why you’ve been feeling weird all day. My head innately tilts as I stare off into space.
My spiral of cataloging my every movement to assign guilt to them begins. I should’ve known and now half the day is gone without me honoring my parents. “I’m calling Joel,” Leo’s crip voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
My head begins to shake. I don’t want to worry him for no reason. I just need to take some time away from the bakery, that is all. “No. It's not that big of a deal. I don't want to bother him,” I plead with Leo to spare the poor single father.
Leo ignores it and pulls out his phone, unlocking the device with the face sensor. “You're not bothering. Poor guy is probably just giving you space and waiting by the phone,” he explains.
Leo’s fingers tap on the tempered glass before he puts the device on the table. I look down, seeing it’s already on speaker and the ringing fills my ears.
Joel answers after two trills, per usual. “Hey. Ginny need me?” he suggests, voice dripping with honey.
I open my mouth to decline but before I do, Leo speaks up, “Yes.”
If I weren’t so short I’d reach over the table and smack his head. So instead, I scold him, “Leo!” Why the fuck would he speak for me?
“My bad, Joel. She didn’t know we spoke before I came in. Yes, she does need you. I have a meeting at 1 and I need you to come by. Maybe cook her something,” he requests and the corners of my mouth quirk up in a smile. Despite what I said on the first day of our meeting, I love everything that Joel specifically cooks.
Leo pauses and her eyes look me up and down judgingly. “She doesn’t look like she’s eaten today,” he adds and I scowl at them both.
This time, I’ve had enough of Leo’s bullshit and I kick him beneath the table. He lets out a groan, shooting daggers in my direction with his eyes. But, skipping breakfast due to anxiety isn’t a cause for concern.
Joel doesn’t skip a beat, immediately answering, “Be there in 10.”
“Thanks, man,” Leo exhales, probably glad to be relieved of his suicide watch duties for the day. Maddie and Leo stayed with me during the emotional rollercoaster of this day last year, and although they’re my best friends, I don’t expect Leo to want more. Especially when I have a partner now.
He clicks the red circle on the screen and I practically collapse on the table between us. “God, Leo. I'm going to kill you,” I groan into the hard material.
“He's your boyfriend. He's supposed to be the one comforting you and not me, right?” he questions and I can’t say I disagree.
“You’re right,” I complain one last time before lifting my head and fixing the mess of curls around my head. “Okay, you can go. I’m just going to change my clothes.”
“Are you sure? I can cancel this meeting,” he placates. No, he shouldn’t. And that’s okay. I don’t want his life to stop just because mine is currently.
I try my hardest to plaster on a fake smile, but it causes me mental anguish. “Positive. I’m going to get comfy so Joel can snuggle the shit out of me,” I tell him my plans.
He grimaces, probably from my gushy words. His dark brown eyes search my face for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s satisfied, he nods. “Alright, I’ll call later. I’d stop by but you’ll be getting fucked as a distraction,” he smirks, before standing from the table and darting out of the bakery.
My jaw drops in shock. I most certainly won't be screwing my boyfriend on the anniversary of my parent's death. But maybe tomorrow, like early tomorrow. As soon as the clock hits midnight.
How can I even be horny at a time like this? There’s gotta be some unnatural demon inside of me. I drag my hands down my face, trying to pull myself back into reality before standing from the booth. Walking over to the counter, I lean over to talk to Chloe. There are still patrons in the bakery and I don’t need them hearing about my personal life. “I’m going to retire upstairs. Let me know if you need anything. Joel should be here soon and you can send him up,” I list, quietly.
Chloe nods before taking my hands in hers. “Don’t worry, I got it. This is why I’m your manager,” she eases my anxiety.
I nod, bidding her goodbye before walking towards the back of the bakery. Tears start to collect in my eyes again and I repeat my favorite mantra. No crying in public, Ginny. You just have to get upstairs then you can let it out.
But it doesn’t work.
By the time I’m climbing up the staircase, the tears are already streaming down my face causing an uncomfortable burn on my cheeks. When I reach the top, I slide the barn door open to my living quarters at an alarming rate.
The wood smacks into the door frame and I rush into the space, careful not to let the mewling kittens out behind me. I softly shut the door, watching out for their tails with strained vision.
Okay, you’re alone Ginny. Let it out.
I don’t know what I expected to happen. I couldn’t foresee myself ever falling to my knees and sobbing on the living room floor, but that’s exactly what occurs. My chest becomes tight as I choke on my own spit, babbling niceties about my mother and father.
I don’t know how long I’m crouched on the floor when I hear my living room door slide open. My knees feel sore from the hardened floor beneath me but my tears don’t stop, creating a wet stain on my grey top. “Damn, sugar,” I hear Joel say before he slides the door shut behind him.
I look up to find him rushing towards me, joining me on the floor. His typically messy hair looks freshly cut and I can tell he's used the start of the day to visit the barbershop. His green flannel shirt is opened nice and low, hugging his biceps deliciously. “Deep breaths. Know it’s hard but you can do it,” he encourages, rubbing warm circles onto my back.
His words barely register and as I try to get my breathing under control, hiccuping in between breaths. With each uneven breath, I attempt to keep a hold on my digestive system and not let out a sad fart. Or worse, vomit in his lap.
“After Sarah died, I had panic attacks too. Still get ‘em sometimes,” he divulges.
His hands trail up my spine to the back of my neck. His thumb traces soothing designs into my skin, effectively grounding me. My rocketing heartbeat slowly starts to steady and I allow myself to close my eyes knowing that Joel is here to catch me if I fall. His arms envelop me from behind, pulling my body so I’m sitting in his lap.
He softly caresses my hair and I tune him out as he begins whispering affirmations in my ear. I stare off into space and I jerk slightly in his hold when Joel presses a soft kiss to my neck.
I know where I am, but the last 30 minutes feel like a blur. Disassociation is a bitch.
When I finally feel aware again, Joel is still murmuring into my neck, but this time he’s talking about our future. “We’ll always be here. Me 'n Ellie through whatever,” he promises, pausing to take a breath.
I nod to let him know that I’m actually back this time. He rubs my back and I hear a soft meow coming from the floor. Toph is looking up at me with her green eyes, seemingly afraid. “We’ll have to get a bigger place for the 5 of us,” Joel adds, and I chuckle, scooping the orange kitten into my arms.
“Thank you for coming and just,” I start before gesturing to his body with one hand. “Being you,” I finish before a hiccup roars through my chest.
Joel positions himself more comfortable on the floor so he’s sitting in front of me. “I mean it. Every word,” he emphasizes, pressing a quick kiss to my wet cheeks. I smile at him, grateful for his presence.
Toph paws at my chest, snuggling into my body. Like always, Katara becomes jealous of her sister's attention, and she comes slinking behind the couch up to Joel. She struts up his leg, plopping down in the middle of his lap and shutting her eyes.
“They’re fuckin’ somethin’ else,” Joel sneers, stroking Katar’s grey fur. I snicker in agreeance, setting Toph down in the sunlight on the floor in demonstration. Joel accepts the permission to remove my cat from his personal space, following suit carefully.
I glance at Joel’s face, admiring the constellation of freckles beneath a layer of dark circles. His hair is pushed back neatly with pomade and god, he looks edible. My heart quickens when I realize, I probably look a mess with makeup running down my face.
He catches me staring and he licks his lips before asking, “What do you want for lunch?”
My brain mentally catalogs all the groceries Joe’s bought and stocked in my fridge. He figured if he’s going to make every meal, he might as well have what he needs. He insists he’s content with us staying in our respective lanes. After all, he’s just as excited for the dessert surprise at the end of the meal as Ellie is.
Figuring I can’t be picky since I’m not cooking, I decide to let him choose. “Whatever you want. I’m going to go clean myself up and get changed,” I inform him, frowning at my appearance.
Joel seemingly notices my self-judgment and sits up, pulling my face closer with my hands. “I think you’re gorgeous, sugar,” he compliments before pressing a chaste kiss on my forehead.
My skin tingles from the warmth and I can't help but smile into the sign of affection. However, my insecurity doesn't drown, grabbing my hair and pulling me back from the gorgeous man I call mine. “You’re a liar, but it’s fine,” I murmur, using his shoulders to stabilize myself as I stand.
His strong arms wrap around my body holding me close. “I wudn’t lie to you,” he promises, and I nearly become weak in the knees from that accent.
I hum in reply, deciding it’s my turn to steal a kiss from him. I haven't tasted him in a couple days when I visited him and Ellie, and I’m starting to feel like I'm forgetting a piece of him. My body lowers until we’re at eye level, and the air between us zaps.
He never fails to make me feel this way. Thunder rumbles in my stomach and lightning strikes low in my abdomen. It’s confusing, but I welcome every second of it.
Joel becomes impatient with my hovering and he brushes our lips together. The kiss is sweet and I smile into it before parting my lips. He swirls his tongue around mine while cradling my body into his.
We continue for a few moments before I need to come up for air, and I disconnect immediately looking down at his reddened lips. I press one final peck to them before getting up, for real this time.
Joel pats me on the behind as I walk out of the room before he stands himself with a grunt. Toph trails behind me into my bathroom, brushing up against my leg with a purr as I look in the mirror.
My reflection makes me want to start crying again. My throat fills with ache as I try to stuff the oncoming tears out. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only unattractive person I know.
I push the thought out of my head and for my headband, securing my hair away from my face. After pumping face wash into my hand, I hum while massaging my face. The sticky layer of tear stains rinse down the drain and I feel a sense of relief.
Once my face is clean, I reach for my towel to dry it off when I feel something particularly fuzzy. I open my right eye, peering at the counter to see Toph's tail underneath my hand. “Fuck off, cat. No counters,” I scold my shadow, lifting and setting her on the floor with wet hands.
She wines as her paws hit the floor, and I grab a clean towel from the drawer. Why did I get two cats?
After patting my face dry and discarding the towels in the hamper, I walk out towards the kitchen. As I tip-toe down the hall, I can hear Joel shuffling about. When I round the corner, I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. It’s nice to admire him in moments like this, although he’s bound to look up towards my bathroom any minute.
As if the universe hit the play button on my vision, his eyes snap to mine. “Come,” he waves me over with a welcoming grin.
I stroll over behind him before I snake my arms around his waist. My front presses into his back and I catalog every flex of muscle in his body. His arm begins sliding with precision, perfectly cutting the potato in front of him into thin slices. “Fries?” I question out of curiosity.
“And a burger your way,” he glances over his shoulder at me before returning to his chopping.
I press myself up on my tiptoes, placing a kiss on his shoulder blade. This man is perfect for me in every way. Caring for me, cooking for me, and giving me countless orgasms. My relationship with Ellie is just the cherry on top. Even if Joel and I ended things, I’d still want to be in her life.
The realization hits me like a truck and without thinking I stammer, “God, I lo–” before cutting myself out.
My body chills to ice and the oxygen is sucked from my lungs in an instant. Joel pauses his movements and stands frozen in place. I take a step back from him, turning away from him.
I need to do something to distract him from the fact that I almost just said I love you.
I reach for the kettle to set some water on for tea, fumbling about with the top of the lid. “What’d’ya say, sugar?” Joel asks from behind me.
I shake my head, feeling the hole he’s staring in my head. If I confess right now, he might leave me like everyone does. He’ll call me a crazy person and forbid me to see Ellie.
Joel’s warm hand covers mine and I jerk, before peering down. I blink rapidly at the water spilling over the top of the filled pot. “Fuck,” I swear, turning off the water and dumping a bit out of the metal container.
I shake my hand dry before my eyes meet Joel. “You sure you okay?” Joel questions with furrowed brows.
I nod, putting the lid back on the kettle. It’s a mistake, him seeing me like this. All overwhelmed and in disarray. I obviously can’t even string together a cohesive thought.
My hands fiddle around with the stove, pressing buttons until the electric burners turn red. I set the kettle down on top, turning back to face Joel.
My face turns scarlet when I see he hasn’t moved. He has instead settled into a position with one hand resting on top of the counter and the other on his hip. “I won’t call you a liar. But whatever it is, ’m here when you’re ready,” he offers lowly.
And as if nothing happens, he moves back to preparing the potatoes. I finally exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Thank god he’s not hell-bent on embarrassing me today.
Deciding to take the glorious out he’s presented me, I slide into the bar seat across from him, ready to watch my favorite pass time: Chef Joel Miller cooking in my kitchen. His brows furrow and his tongue sticks out of the side of his mouth when he’s intensely focused.
A lightbulb goes off in my head and I realize, I haven’t checked up on his Michelin Star journey. “Have 3 stars to your name yet?” I ask as he turns to fill a pot with water.
“Not quite. Heard rumors we’ve already got 2 visits though,” he explains and his voice bounces off the large window in front of him.
I nod and the corners of my mouth turn up. All I want is for those around me to succeed and he’s one step closer to his goal. “That’s great, that’s only one more left. It can’t be long now,” I chirp.
Joel leans on his left leg impatiently and I focus on his back. He inhales a long deep breath and I can tell he’s not as confident. “Yeah,” he grunts.
I brush a stray curl out of my face before observing, “You don’t sound so sure.”
He sighs before turning off the water. “I am. Thought about what you said that day and ’m worried my employee's customer service is being affected by my words, Gin.”
Fuck, he’s never called me Gin before. What I said must’ve been weighing on him. Shit, shit. Code red, Ginny. “Joel, it's fine. You’ve made the changes and the reviewers will see that,” I blabber out.
Joel carries the pot over to the stove. “I know, ’m just stressed and all,” he says while fiddling with the same buttons I was moments ago.
My body begins involuntary twisting and turning in the bar stool. Joel takes notice of the fact that I've used the tea water as a diversion, switching off the kettle as he goes. I snort and shake my head at how well he knows me.
“Wait until you actually get the stars,” I emphasize the horror of his future.
Joel picks out a pink towel from the drawer beneath his waist, quickly whipping his hands off. “Yeah, I’ll be busy as hell."
“And it’ll be nice to have Ellie back in the bakery more,” I add excitedly.
Joel sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll have to get her into an afterschool program of some kind,” he responds.
My brows knit on my forehead watching him begin to prep the burger patties. “Why?” I ask.
He sets a bottle of seasoning down with a thunk and I know he means business. His deep chestnut eyes connect with my hazel ones and I know I’m no longer talking to my sweet, timid, Joel. I’m interacting with Chef Miller. “Cause you shouldn’t have to be responsible for her,” he grits through his teeth.
My lips purse and I cross my arms, slightly offended that he’d suggest I can’t handle hanging out with Ellie. “I think I can manage,” I theorize.
“I’m serious, Gin,” he argues.
“So am I. Ellie is the closest thing I have to a daughter. We already–” lied to the principal and staff at her school about our relationship. “Erm, she’s already here until close. What’s a few extra hours?” I finish as smoothly as possible, but I’m not sure Joel is buying it by the look on his face.
He raises a brow and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Are you sure?” he asks and I roll my eyes. If he asks again, my answer may be different.
There’s no reason for Ellie to join an afterschool program when she’s already comfortable here. “Positive. You are my boyfriend, Miller,” I conclude, quite finished with this conversation when the aftertaste from my words hit. “Partner,” I correct myself, looking down shyly.
“I love it when you call me that” I hear him say, causing a chuckle to slip from my throat.
We sit in comfortable silence for the remainder of the time Joel spends cooking. He occasionally glances up at me while bustling around the kitchen. Every time we make eye contact, my skin sets ablaze and I have to look away.
It seems childish to look away when your partner catches you staring. But he’s so goddamn sexy, I can’t help it. If I don’t look away, my carnal desires will replace my grief, and I’m not ready for that.
I wonder if Joel ever felt extremely horny and inappropriately happy in his grief. There’s only one way to find out.
I clear my throat, rapidly blinking away the fuzz of my thoughts. “Joel,” I murmur to get his attention.
He looks up from the set of plates, giving me a half smile. “Hmm. You ready to eat, sugar?” he asks, probably assuming I’m rushing him for food.
I don’t move from my spot to not give him the wrong idea. “Yeah but uh,” I start, pausing to pick at my nail polish. “Can I ask you something?” I question softly.
Joel pops a French fry he dropped on the counter into his mouth. “Anythin',” he utters.
He slides my favorite meal over to me and I just about see stars. It takes everything I have in me to focus on the task at hand and not swallow the burger whole.
“How long did it take you to stop feeling guilty about being happy? You know, after…” I trail off, not wanting to bring up Sarah’s passing so bluntly.
His eyebrows raise and he leans back as if he was physically impacted by my words. Shock etches over his tan face and I immediately pick up a couple of french fries, awkwardly stuffing my mouth full. “Two years and Ellie was the first person I let in. Then you came along shortly after,” he confesses.
I quickly chew my food before gulping harshly. “Oh,” I murmur.
“Oh?” Joel counters with a tilt of his head.
I nod, picking up another fry. “Yeah, it’s not bad. It’s just that I don’t think I have two years,” I think out loud.
My eyes scan the counter for Joel’s signature barbeque sauce, anxious to dip try it with the crispy potatoes. “Be patient, sugar,” he scolds.
Joel seemingly notices my attention is elsewhere and suddenly, a tiny bowl of the brown condiment is set in front of me. I blush and give him a silent thank you with a half smile. “Never been too good at that,” I admit.
Picking up the burger, I examine it to see which side is the best for the first bite. “Oh I know,” I hear Joel say before our eyes connect. He tilts his head with a mischievous smirk on his face that sends fire into my cheeks.
I shake my head at him before taking a huge bite of the juicy burger. The flavors dance on my taste buds reminding me of summer barbeques. “Mmmm, this is orgasmic,” I compliment my sexy chef.
He swallows his bite before asking, “Changed the seasoning. Taste alright?”
I nod, already ready to inhale the entire meal. “Joel, I didn’t know your burgers could get better. This is amazing,” I express.
“Well, if my toughest critic says it’s good, I’ll trust it,” he jokes and I chuckle.
Delicious food, passionate sex, and god's gift to humanity. I am the luckiest woman on earth.
The door flies open sending my eyes flying open and me jerking into Joel’s stomach. He groans before smoothing my curls with his palm. “It’s just Ellie,” he informs me she’s back from school.
I sigh, cuddling further into his body now that my anxiety has eased. “Hey,” his teenage daughter grunts when she comes into view.
Ellie begrudgingly kicks her shoes off and drops her backpack to the side. If her body could talk, it would scream. “Bad day at school?” I observe.
She nods, picking up Toph who’s sitting in her spot on the couch. “Mmhm,” she grunts out just like her dad as she takes a seat.
“Well,” I start, tossing her the remote. “I’ll let you pick,” I offer her the once-in-a-lifetime chance.
She snickers, “No, you won’t.” She gives me a pointed look and asks, “What are my options?”
I purse my lips. She’s right, I’m just shitty she knows me so well. “Grey’s or SVU,” I answer.
Ellie nods, extending the remote in her hand to click through the app. Joel begins practically petting me again. “Sugar, you sure? Don’t wanna see you cryin’ no more,” Joel growls lowly as if seeing me cry and him not being able to control it pissed him off.
I can understand if he needs control over something, but today isn’t that day. “Positive,” I reassure him.
He nods, before placing his hand under my head and gently lifting it. “Sorry, sugar,” he grunts as he stands.
He turns towards the L-shaped couch with his hand on his hip, accentuating his slender waist and I practically start drooling. “What do you two want for dinner?” he questions, looking back and forth between us.
I prop my head up in my hand and look at Ellie who looks particularly glum. She’s curled into the couch, holding Toph like the animal is her lifeline. I sigh, feeling the urge to punch someone for hurting my baby creep into my veins again. “El, you can pick. I already had my favorite for lunch,” I urge her.
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup,” she requests, not even looking up at her father.
Joel clears his throat and raises his eyebrow. Ellie looks up and her eyes dart back and forth between me and Joel. I raise my eyebrow at her because she should know what he’s looking for.
It only takes Elle a few seconds when she gets it. “Please?” she adds, looking at Joel for confirmation.
He nods and walks off to the kitchen, away from earshot. I look over at Ellie whos depressed body language hasn’t changed. My hand pats the couch next to me. “Why are you so far away? We both know this is the best TV-watching spot,” I invite her over.
When she comes over, she’s usually right next to me giving me all the school gossip. But maybe it’s because Joel is here. She slides over, sinking into the cushion. “What’s up, El? You look all…” my voice trails off and I mimic her body language.
She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Dina,” she answers.
“Okay, what about Dina?” I ask. Fuck, teenagers are hard. I wish they’d just tell you the problem the easy way.
Ellie’s head snaps in my direction. “She has a crush,” she snips.
My eyebrows raise and I tilt my head. “And I’m guessing by your body language and your fucking tone, you’re not her crush,” I lightly correct her.
She looks behind me and I assume she’s checking to see if Joel is still making us food. “No,” she states and her entire body shrivels. The rejection washes over her face and I want nothing more than to hug her.
My respect for her boundaries overrides my need for comfort. “Who does she have a crush on?” I counter.
Ellie gnaws on her lip for a moment like she’s reluctant to tell me. I understand, after all, Dina is working downstairs for me right now. “Jesse,” she tells me.
I rapidly blink, stunned by the news. “Jesse, delivery boy, Jesse?”
Ellie nods and my mouth forms an ‘o’ in response. I nod, understanding the gravity of this queer love triangle. Her shoulder hunch over even more and I decide it’s time to cheer her up with some words of encouragement.
“You know when I was a teenager, I had a crush on a girl who was dating our guy friend,” I divulge some of my past. Although she doesn’t know it involves Madi and Leo, she doesn’t need to know that to get the point.
“Really?” Ellie asks dumbfounded.
I answer tight-lipped with a nod, “Mmmhm.”
“What happened?”
“I let it play out between the two of them. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be,” I tell her.
Ellie’s face scrunches and she looks weary of taking my advice. “Look, you don’t know if Dina likes you back right?”
Ellie shakes her head no. “Right, so don’t mess with the universe. If you’re meant to be, you’ll be. You never know, maybe a girl will come into the high school and shock the shit out of you,” I theorize.
Ellie rolls her eyes and scoffs, “I doubt that.”
“Keep your options open, El. Until you put a ring on someone’s finger,” I advise her. She’s a hot commodity and I’m going to tell her that every time she needs reminding.
Joel’s head comes into view as he bends down to press a kiss on top of Ellie’s head. She lets out a blech noise, shrugging as far away from him as possible.
I laugh at the interaction while Joel simply shakes his head. “Dinner’s ready,” he alerts us.
When I peer over my shoulder, I see a delicious spread laid out. As always, Joel has beautifully plated 2 servings of grilled cheese and tomato soup. “Ooh, that looks good,” Ellie compliments her dad, setting Toph down and shooting up from the couch.
She darts into the breakfast nook, diving for the sandwich first. Her head tips back and she groans with satisfaction. “Good?” I slightly shout from the couch.
She nods her head, already moving on to try the soup. Joel chuckles and extends his hand to me. He knows I typically climb over the back of the couch and ever since my foot got caught on the couch that one time, he’s insistent on helping me over.
“Thank you,” I purr lowly, leaning in to press a quick kiss on his lips.
When I lick my lips, I taste savory remnants of tomato from him tasting the soup. I blink rapidly at him stunned, feeling a similar wave of emotion as earlier. My butterflies erupt in my chest and my heart skips a beat, stumbling over the current.
Yup, that's definitely love.
I love Joel Miller and everything that comes with him. I love his deep raspy morning voice and the way his nostrils flare when he can’t quite get a recipe right. I love his southern twang and the furrow in his brows when he’s angry.
The type of love I feel for him possesses every fiber in my body and takes over my brain. It wraps around my nervous system, acting on its own. It takes away all control I have and I don’t mind at all.
I adore Ellie and consider her to be one of my daughters. We’ve become so close these past few months and I can’t imagine a day without them in my routine. They’re the only two people I can stand around me all the time.
Joel clears his throat, bringing me back to the present. Reality smacks me like a truck and I blush. “You alright there, sugar?” Joel questions, voice laced with concern.
The corners of my mouth curve into a smile. “Yeah, I genuinely don’t know what just happened. I look at you and my mind goes blank. I think I'm going nuts,” I chuckle, slightly lying.
When I look at him, my eyes turn into hearts and pop out of my head with my tongue rolled out like the red carpet. When our eyes connect, he makes me feel like I’m the only person he’s ever been interested in romantically. Which can’t be possible considering Sarah came from somewhere.
We join Ellie and the kittens playing by her feet at the breakfast nook and a comfortable silence falls over the table. My mother always said you know the food is good when it’s silent, and we’re not much for dinner conversations around here.
Joel reaches forward and pours me a glass of wine before pouring himself some. “Guess you two are staying the night?” I ask, pointing out that whenever Joel drinks with me, they usually end up crashing.
Joel raises his eyebrows as if he’s daring me to contest, taking a sip of his wine. “If that’s okay with you?” he questions, probably trying to hide the fact that he’s not going to leave me alone tonight.
I pick up my spoon, dipping it into the soup. “It is, but I was thinking I’d come to yours tonight. El has school in the morning,” I attempt to compromise.
Ellie rolls her eyes and groans, “That sucks, my bed here is more comfortable.”
Joel begins prepping to eat and I’ve never seen someone be so meticulous about such a thing. He lays a cloth napkin into his nap and I raise my eyebrow, wondering what hell of a closet he dug those out of.
“It’s not your bed, Ellie. We don’t live here,” Joel corrects her and I shovel the soup in my mouth. It’s the perfect amount of savory and sweet.
Joel picks up the sandwich and takes a bite, nodding at the taste. While his mouth is full, I decide to insert a suggestion, “No, but El, next time you’re here, you should bring some clothes just in case. That way you don’t have to wear my clothes whenever you want to stay over.”
Ellie responds without skipping a beat, “Sounds good.”
I turn my attention back to my meal and my mind mentally drifts off. Christmas is soon so maybe I can tell him then. I don’t want to trauma bond with him right now and Christmas is a happy time. “I cleared a drawer out for you already,” Joel announces and I nearly choke on my sandwich.
“You what?” I blurt, my mind swirling with information.
In my peripheral, I see Ellie’s head going back and forth between me and Joel. “That too much? I’ll fill it back up. ‘s just some of my long sleeves,” he stammers.
“No!” I shout a bit too loudly, my body becoming hot when I realize the gravity of my tone. “I mean no, the drawer isn’t too much. I think it’d be too much if I moved in right now,” I add.
Joel nods, content with my answer, returning to his meal. “When you two move in together, can we move here?” Ellie asks, refusing to read the weight of awkwardness in the room.
Joel clears his throat and he straightens his posture a bit. Sensing his uncomfortability, I step in to talk for the both of us, “We haven’t talked about that yet, El. But when it comes to it, I’d be happy to have you here.”
“Yay!” Ellie celebrates and I take a bite of my grilled cheese. It has the perfect amount of pull and my eyes are probably sparkling with admiration for Joel at the moment.
I chew and swallow before adding, “We’ll have to move eventually though. We need a house that we’ve all picked.” I would never sign a dotted line on a new place without Ellie and Joel’s approval at this stage in our relationship. I think we’ll be together for a long time, so I want to be considerate.
Ellie perks up again, “Really?”
I nod, glancing at Joel who has completely stopped eating at this point. “Mmhm, by then you’ll be 18 and you can have this place,” I continue my conversation with Ellie, knowing he’ll holler at any time he feels I’m overstepping.
Joel’s jaw clenches as I fight a snort, assuming he’s started stewing. “The bakery?” she asks, voice laced with confusion.
I set my spoon down and give her a knowing look. “No, El. Do you like baking?” I quip.
She shrugs, dipping her sandwich into her bowl. “Eh, it’s not my calling,” she admits before taking a bite.
“Exactly. I was talking about the apartment. You can have it when we eventually move out,” I foretell, motioning between me and her father with my hand.
“Gin,” Joel pulls my attention to him. When I glance down, his hands are balled tight into a fist, one wrapped tightly around a stainless stem spoon.
If he squeezes any more, he’ll bend my cuterly. And it’s completely unnecessary. “Joel, I’m not letting your child pay $1,000 in rent when we’ll have at least one empty apartment that’s completely paid off. Try again,” I dare him to argue.
Joel sighs but his body stays wound up. “She’s gonna be spoiled.”
I whip my head in Ellie's direction. “I don’t think you’re spoiled, are you, El?”
“Not in the slightest,” Ellie says through a shit-eating grin.
My head whips back toward Joel who isn’t the slightest bit amused by our display. “See, she gets the apartment, we get a new house,” I pause waiting for his face to change. When it remains stone cold, I add my secret tactic by purring, “alone,” into his ear.
When I straighten my back, his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. Anticipation flickers in his eyes and I know I’ve hooked him to the idea.
Joel’s body slowly starts to relax, but Ellie puts the cherry on top. “And everyone’s happy. Maybe Dina would move in with me. Holy shit this is gonna be awesome,” she practically bounces, and the wood beneath her creaks.
“Slow your roll, kiddo. You’ve still got 4 years,” Joel warns and I kick him lightly under the table for taking the excitement out of everything. I want her to keep a hopeful possibility of romance with Dina and he’s ruining it.
Ellie opens her mouth but I step in before the pair can start arguing. “Speaking of totally awesome, what do you want for Christmas, El?”
“I’m getting something for Christmas?” asks dumbfoundedly.
“Umm, yeah. Why wouldn’t you be?”
Ellie shrugs and a rain cloud of trauma drifts in over her head. I watch as the sorrow rain falls on top of her head and my heart drops to my ass. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just not used to it.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep it together for her. No child should have to go a December without a gift. I try my best to plaster on a fake smile to perk her up. “Well, I already have most of your gifts but I thought I’d ask you,” I tell her.
As if on command, the cloud of depressing memories is swapped for a blazing sun. “Really?” she gleans.
“Really. I love Christmas. It’s the busiest holiday for the bakery though.” I mentally curse the upcoming bustle, taking a sip of my wine.
Ellie chomps the last of her sandwich down, chewing slowly like she’s in deep thought. A sparkle comes over her eyes when it looks like she’s finally got it. “Well, some new paintbrush sets would be nice. I saw some watercolors on Instagram that are cool,” she hints.
“Send them to me,” I request.
“Okay,” she smiles, reaching into her back pocket to pull out her phone.
I smile at my hunky boyfriend, ready to point out the receipts of Ellie’s personality traits. “See, Joel. That is not a spoiled child. Madi would’ve asked for a Gucci bag and a stamp on her passport when we were younger.”
Ellie’s head perks up from her phone. “Wait, that’s an option?” she clarifies sarcastically.
“No,” Joel barks at the same time as I offer, “Ask Madi.”
Joel frowns in my direction and I quickly add, “We don’t have that type of money but Madi does and she’s always ready to spend it on someone. If you want something really expensive, she’s the one to ask.”
Joel's elbows come down on the table quite hard and he puts his head in his hands. “Gin,” he groans.
“What? Madi’s like her aunt or whatever now. She’s obligated by girl code to help her out,” I inform him, picking up my spoon. At this point, the utensil is useless. The food’s so good, I’m ready to drink the rest of the bowl down.
“Spoilin’ her ain’t helpin’,” he scolds me.
I blow the steaming liquid in front of my face. “No, but Ellie knows the value of money to know the difference between dinner at the estate versus dinner at the breakfast nook,” I say before taking a bite.
“Yeah, this sucks,” Ellie sarcastically grumbles, before picking up the soup and slurping the last bit of it.
I snicker, dipping the last of my sandwich into the soup. I never thought I could be this content after my parents passed but here I am, enjoying the anniversary of their death with my two favorite people.
I peer under the table at the sleeping cats and smile. I need to focus on the two people that I have a future with and a life with, not the two who are long gone. It’s what my mother would want for me, anyway. The girl that hooked me onto the man that I love. Fuck. I’ve got to find a better time to tell him.
#joel fanfic#joel miller#joel miller x oc#joel miller x original character#joel miller x black fem oc#joel miller x black female oc#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel x ellie#joel x oc#joel x black! fmc#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller fic recs#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller series#joel miller story#joel fic#chef joel#joel the last of us#joel and ellie#tlou au#joel miller comfort#barbieliv#sweetest pie barbieliv#barbie
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Something that I find misses the point so completely it is breathtaking is when people are like "this player hates engaging with their backstory" about the CR cast. It's pretty much never true, and what's worst is that I've seen it the most about Travis and Taliesin, two of the players who I think have the strongest grasp on how to create and engage with a backstory.
The choice to have a character who avoids elements of their past can be a valid, informed, and deliberate character choice. People run from their pasts! People decide not to pursue things for a number of reasons - because it hurts too much, because they're scared to know the answer, because they think the people around them don't care, and because their interests change. Caduceus very much is an avoidant character. He has access to Sending by the time we first meet him, and he never uses it to try to contact his family. That's not Taliesin being stupid or avoiding. That's Caduceus making a conscious choice to not ask the question "is my family dead" because he is terrified the answer is yes. He waits for a concrete sign to go after his family to the point of deep loneliness and self-harm out of this fear. That's a crucial trait that you need to understand him as a character! Ashton is also on some level similar in that he engages in no shortage of harmful, wallowing, and self-indulgent behaviors - and that is a choice. They also have obviously messy feelings about the Hishari and it's pretty plain to see they feel extremely conflicted about their growing bonds with Bells Hells because now they'll feel bad if Bells Hells leaves them. So of course he's hesitant to bring this to Orym, because then he's entrusted Orym with this information, and he has to care, and again, this is a major part of who Ashton is.
The same goes with Fjord and Vandran (and Sabian). One of the core themes of Fjord's story is deciding whether to run from or embrace your past, and which parts of that past you want to bring forward as you change, which means that to explore that, he has to do some running! He makes efforts to learn more about where they are (going to search for Vandran during the Zadash downtime; hiring a bounty hunter for Sabian) but those get interrupted by Fjord's shifting feelings about Vandran, and fact that this is an ensemble and the story naturally shifts.
Which brings us to the practical element. Fjord doesn't want to release Uk'otoa at the time, so it makes sense to return to the mainland and process next steps, and the focus of the story then turns to rescuing Yeza, and then finding Yasha, and rescuing Caduceus's family, and changing Veth back, and brokering peace, and TravelerCon, and Eiselcross. Through this, he still in fact does quite a lot of backstory work (changing patrons and taking a paladin oath, asking Jester to contact Vandran), as well as an immense amount of character growth and engagement with the ongoing story, but Travis doesn't wrench everything off its natural course just to check off every box on Fjord's list, because that would be selfish, obnoxious, and not fun to watch. And Caduceus achieves exactly what he set out to do! He found and rescued his family and found a way to hold off the corruption! Despite his avoidance, he covers all the bases! And as for Ashton...we've had precious little time to cover anyone's backstory in depth other than Imogen's, and we've actually seen a decent amount of Ashton's backstory regardless with their contacts in Bassuras and their interactions with Jiana. There simply was not time in Bassuras to stray from the main objectives and search for the Nobodies, and I think if we had people would be annoyed since that arc already took a very long time (and, for what it's worth, rather like Fjord, Ashton has explicitly asked after The Nobodies. Do not mistake lack of payoff for character disinterest).
It is, to me, incredibly telling this criticism is most commonly seen about the two players who I think also get the most "well they had an central arc/more focus than my fave" criticism.There's no way to make everyone in the fandom happy, and I think Travis and Taliesin are the players at the table who most understand that and give the least fucks about what the fandom thinks, and who (possibly relatedly) have some of the strongest grasps of narrative and what it means to play in an ensemble. Which is in my opinion a major factor in why their characters are so good - even the ones I do not vibe with are fully realized and well-crafted, because the players are not trying to make likeable characters, but rather interesting ones, and they're not trying to take center stage, but rather be generous at the table.
#critical role#meta#truly as a fan i say fuck fandom wishes. if you're a good enough creator you'll make me like something i didn't know i would.#also lbh the fjord criticism is like 99.9% from people salty that travis did NOT lose interest in the character and had fjord romance jeste#they're like yeah he was CLEARLY checked out but it's wishful thinking. they wish he had been and they're furious he wasn't.#this also reminds me of the accursed Suvi w/o the imperialism art i've mentioned#the character was designed to engage with the idea of empire and someone raised within it. you have given her an icepick lobotomy#it's also like. sometimes backstory is a hook. sometimes it's just there to inform the present. it's okay if it's the latter!
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We're not foolin', the next month of book club starts on April 1st! If you're interested in book club, feel free to send me a message or ask and I'll send you the Discord link. All the book summaries are under the cut. Happy voting!
The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes
Avery Grambs has a plan for a better future: survive high school, win a scholarship, and get out. But her fortunes change in an instant when billionaire Tobias Hawthorne dies and leaves Avery virtually his entire fortune. The catch? Aver has no idea why – or even who Tobias Hawthorne even is.
To receive her inheritance, Avery must move into sprawling, secret passage-filled Hawthorne House, where every room bears the old man’s touch – and his love of puzzles, riddles, and codes. Unfortunately for Avery, Hawthorne House is also occupied by the family that Tobias Hawthorne just dispossessed. This includes the four Hawthorne grandsons: dangerous, magnetic, brilliant boys who grew up with every expectation that one day, they would inherit billions. Heir apparent Grayson Hawthorne is convinced that Avery must be a conwoman, and he’s determined to take her down. His brother, Jameson, views her as their grandfather’s last hurrah: a twisted riddle, a puzzle to be solved. Caught in a world of wealth and privilege, with danger around every turn, Avery will have to play the game herself just to survive.
Suitors and Sabotage by Cindy Anstey
Two young people must hide their true feelings for each other while figuring out who means them harm in this cheeky Regency romance from the author of Love, Lies, and Spies and Duels & Deception.
Shy aspiring artist Imogene Chively has just had a successful Season in London, complete with a suitor of her father’s approval. Imogene is ambivalent about the young gentleman until he comes to visit her at the Chively estate with his younger brother in tow. When her interest is piqued, however, it is for the wrong brother.
Charming Ben Steeple has a secret: despite being an architectural apprentice, he has no drawing aptitude. When Imogene offers to teach him, Ben is soon smitten by the young lady he considers his brother’s intended.
But hiding their true feelings becomes the least of their problems when, after a series of “accidents,” it becomes apparent that someone means Ben harm. And as their affection for each other grows—despite their efforts to remain just friends—so does the danger…
The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White
Mors vincit omnia. Death conquers all.
London, 1883. The Veil between the living and dead has thinned. Violet-eyed mediums commune with spirits under the watchful eye of the Royal Speaker Society, and sixteen-year-old Silas Bell would rather hip out his violet eyes than become an obedient Speaker wife. According to Mother, he’ll be married by the end of the year. It doesn’t matter that he’s needed a decade of tutors to hide his autism; that he practices surgery on slaughtered pigs; that he is a boy, not the girl the world insists on seeing.
After a failed attempt to escape an arranged marriage, Silas is diagnosed with Veil sickness—a mysterious disease sending violet-eyed women into madness—and shipped away to Braxton’s Sanitorium and Finishing School. The facility is cold, the instructors merciless, and the students either bloom into eligible wives or disappear. So when the ghosts of missing students start begging Silas for help, he decides to reach into Braxton’s innards and expose its rotten guts to the world—as long as the school doesn’t break him first.
Etiquette & Espionage by Gail Carriger
It’s one thing to learn to curtsy properly. It’s quite another to learn to curtsy and throw a knife at the same time. Welcome to Finishing School.
Fourteen-year-old Sophronia is a great trial to her poor mother. Sophronia is more interested in dismantling clocks and climbing trees than proper manners—and the family can only hope that company never sees her atrocious curtsy. Mrs. Temminnick is desperate for her daughter to become a proper lady. So she enrolls Sophronia in Mademoiselle Geraldine’s Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality.
But Sophronia soon realizes the school is not quite what her mother might have hoped. At Mademoiselle Geraldine’s, young ladies learn to finish…everything. Certainly, they learn the fine arts of dance, dress, and etiquette, but they also learn to deal out death, diversion, and espionage—in the politest possible ways, of course. Sophronia and her friends are in for a rousing first year’s education.
Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire
October “Toby” Daye, a changeling who is half human and half fae, has been an outsider from birth. After getting burned by both sides of her heritage, Toby has denied the Faerie world, retreating to a “normal” life. Unfortunately for her, the Faerie world has other ideas…
The murder of Countess Evening Winterrose pulls Toby back into the fae world. Unable to resist Evening’s dying curse, which binds her to investigate, Toby must resume her former position as knight errand and renew old alliances. As she steps back into fae society, dealing with a cast of characters not entirely good or evil, she realizes that more than her own life will be forfeited if she cannot find Evening’s killer.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
On a bitter-cold day, in the December of his junior year at Harvard, Sam Masur exits a subway car and sees, amid the hordes of people waiting on the platform, Sadie Green. He calls her name. For a moment, she pretends she hasn’t heard him, but then, she turns, and a game begins; a legendary collaboration that will launch them to stardom. These friends, intimates since childhood, borrow money, beg favors, and, before even graduating college, they have created their first blockbuster, Ichigo. Overnight, they world is theirs. Not even twenty-five years old, Sam and Sadie are brilliant, successful, and rich, but these qualities won’t protect them from their own creative ambitions of the betrayals of their hearts.
Spanning thirty years, from Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Venice Beach, California, and lands in between and far beyond, Gabrielle Zeven’s Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a dazzling and intricately imagined novel that examines the multifarious nature of identity, disability, failure, the redemptive possibilities in play, and above all, our need to connect: to be loved and to love. Yes, it is a love story, but it is not one you have read before.
Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher
It’s been hundreds of years since King Arthur’s reign. His descendant, Arthur, a future Lord and general gadabout, has been betrothed to Gwendoline, the quick-witted, short-tempered princess of England, since birth. The only thing they can agree on is that they despise each other.
They’re forced to spend the summer together at Camelot in the run-up to their nuptials, and within 24 hours, Gwen has discovered Arthur kissing a boy, and Arthur has gone digging for Gwen’s childhood diary and found confessions about her crush on the kingdom’s only lady knight, Bridget Leclair.
Realizing they might make better allies than enemies, Gwen and Art make a reluctant pact to cover for each other, and as things heat up at the annual royal tournament, Gwen is swept off her feet by her knight, and Arthur takes an interest in Gwen’s royal brother. Lex Croucher’s Gwen & Art Are Not in Love is chock full of sword-fighting, found family, and romantic shenanigans destined to make readers fall in love.
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*Takes some time to process stuff* really just got to sit down after classes and man the episode was one whiplash after another. First they find a portal in a lake. In Exandria. Near an abandoned village where the rumours are that the lake lures people like the fucking siren in Doctor Who and proceed to make the decision of sleeping there because they all are exhausted (valid but... you listen to horror rumours, you fucking book it)
Not like the rest was smooth anyway because people experimenting lead to them discovering sending is back up, even if partially. And the scene between Imogen and Orym was sooooo good and Orym really needed that hug and the emotional whiplash was just *chefs kiss* And man Liam killed me with that look and tone of his when he asked about Dorian not answering. YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO ME!!!! Not when I am in class and can't react to it properly!!!
And as expected the siren starts it's work back up and Laudna's rescue was just so an amazing plan (I still wonder when people are going to ask Orym about the Hex. And I think it was misty step?)
Not to mention Delilah and Laudna's conversation about power because it makes sense but doesn't mean I have to like it :/
Now just to wait for two weeks before we see the capital city. But, See you at Candela! So hyped for it too!
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ok first of all I LOVE UR CONCEPT ABOUT DORIAN STRUGGLING FITTING BACK WITH THE HELLS because 1) I love angst 2) dorian is probably also going through hell along with the crownkeepers according to his one message about opal going dark 3) idk his mix of insecurities and anxieties and anger and bitterness he can exude when pushed.... yeah....YEAH......
second of all I also had this really concept/hc that dorian would have told ck all about bh and his adventures with them but then coming back and realising that bh have barely mentioned him and....having feelings about that (it's understandable given their circumstances but it still hurts....ya know...)
yes, yes, yes! something people never think about when they talk about dorian's potential return is that how early in the campaign he left. like, so early that we didn't know about laudna's patron! and how would that affect him when he returned and he sees that on the surface they've all had wonderful things happen to them?
fcg found out they've got a soul? ashton is kinder and more patient? imogen got a tiara that lets her finally not hear everyone's thoughts? orym's literal fucking keyleth bestowed title that apparently he didn't think was important enough for dorian to know about? it'd make for an absolutely gruesome parallel to laudna's meltdown in e65 because i cannot imagine he'd be happy about any of this. every time someone tries to act like he'd perfectly mesh back with them no questions asked all i can think of is the bit in exu when dorian and orym argue over the circlet.
and ohhhh i will NOT shut up about fearne bottling it up (95% of orym's tag has talked about him bottling it up already so i didn't wanna be redundant) because dear god tailesin came for my crownkeepers loving heart with that fucking line. the 15 seconds of dariax hurt me, the "opal's going dark" comment still horrifies me, and where in the name of GOD are fy'ra and morrigan? if nothing else i think we at least need an update on them! can we get an exu miniseries about them during the solstice? i have a theory on what happened to opal but it's a little fanficc-y.
(this of course assumes dorian doesn't know that sending and communication magic is fucking up, which he very well might not given that again, orym's messages have been getting sparser and further apart.)
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Dating Imogen Heaney would include
Pairings: Imogen Heaney x trans male reader
Requested by: @bitweird1 Hello!🥰 Could I please request headcanons for dating Imogen Heaney with a trans male reader?💖
Warnings: mention of transphobia
A/N sorry if I got anything wrong, and ofc please write to me if you want me to change anything in this about trans people, bc as I am not one I do not know how it feels or anything of the sort, I am Bisexual but I do not think that’s the same as being trans in any way, sure you might feel like you need to hide a bit but it’s not the same, so pls once more if I have made something wrong pls send a message or something and I’ll fix it.
So first of you would totally of been friends with Tara and Darcy before you changed school, missing the time Elle came because you both changed schools the same year
I believe you’d have some encounters with Imogen before you changed school. After all you both used to be at the same school. And it turns out you did have a bit of a crush on her, not that she knew that ofcourse
At first you’d been afraid to change school because you knew that Imogen usually hangs out with boys from Thruman and they boys she were with, (except Nick) especially Harry could throw homophobic and transphobic slurs any way if he knew someone were in the lgbtq+ community.
But luckily for you Tara and Darcy helped you overcome that fear and it seemed like Imogen didn’t tell any of the boys that you were trans.
So all the boys believed you’d changed school from some other school and not from the girl school you used to go to.
You eventually met Charlie, Tao, Elle and Nick through Tara and Darcy, after all you did still hang out with your fave lesbians.
Which also leads to you starting to hang out with Imogen through Nick.
Nick had officially introduced the two of you one day when he saw you starring at her. And he had noticed that Imogen always smiled your way whenever she noticed your stares.
So Nick and the rest played matchmakers just like they did with Tao and Elle
It worked eventually
You and Imogen started to become close friends
Eventually she knew all about you and you knew all about her, from her once crush on Nick to her being interested in someone else now unknowingly to you, you were that person
She knew all about what you went through, the transphobic slurs from people all around you, the pain you and held in for so long about not being able to be your true self.
She always hated and loved hearing those stories, she hated that you’d been in so much emotional and physical pain over not being able to be who you truly are, but she loved to hear it because it showed how very brave and strong you were to have come out to be who you truly were.
It didn’t take to long for you to finally ask her out.
She obviously said yes
Your first date went really good, you’d went for milkshakes
All of your friends pestered you about how it went
Imogen started to hang around other people instead of Harry because she knew he somehow found out about you being trans so he sometimes said slurs to you, and as we all know Imogen is an ally (sorry had to add it) and she didn’t stand for you being bullied for being you
To when you actual started dating I believe that she steals your jeans jackets
She messes with your hair a lot
You always give each other bright smiles
Holding hands
Wanting to pet every dog you guys pass by on your walks
Stealing taking care of Nellie from Nick sometimes when he’s away with his family
A cute couple who stands up for trans rights and any lgbtq+ member
Plus she loves giving you kisses on the cheek, which makes you blush every time, with a shy smile on your face
#heartstopper#heartstopper x teen!reader#heartstopper headcannon#heartstopper imagine#heartstopper imogen#imogen heaney#Imogen Heaney imagine#Imogen Heaney heartstopper#Imogen Heaney headcannon#Imogen Heaney is an ally#x reader#x teen#x teen!reader#x you#heartstopper x reader#x trans reader#x trans male reader#x male reader
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I can not overstate how much we do not give a fuck that y’all don’t find imogen and laudna’s relationship interesting because of it being personal to them. that is literally why the majority of people like it. it seems more like you all are just grasping at straws trying to come up with a reason why it’s bad because you’re bitter. grow the fuck up and get over it.
re: this post, bc I might as well link it if I'm getting anons over it
If you didn't give a fuck, why'd you send this ask. that's not very not-giving-a-fuck of you.
and, honestly, good thing I wasn't speaking for the majority of people or trying to convince them not to like it! i was just talking about me specifically and why I don't like it and why it's not to my taste! I'm speaking for myself.
why are you allowed to have a personal opinion but I'm not? you do you and i'll do me, and we'll have different opinions <3
#also it's funny you think I'm bitter when I'm analyzing the relationship with the same cold approach as I read New York Times movie reviews#Critical Role things#CR
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When (s)He Sees Me, Imodna?
Laudna has so little fear these days. It's nothing but numb, accepting the horrors as they come, day after day. She doesn't know much what to say. What can you say when the world is ending and you're a world away from your tether?
At night when she's keeping watch, her mind drifts to Imogen. Of course it does.
Her heart starts to beat faster just at the thought of the woman who has become more and more dear to her. Imogen has this way of looking at her, like she can see straight into her heart.
Laudna will tell Imogen just about anything and that is fucking terrifying.
Imogen knows more about her than anyone else in the world. And yet there are still parts of her that she keeps a secret. The most haunted parts of her that are full of cracks and spider webs and rot. The parts of her that are disgusting and hard to look at and send people fleeing from her.
Laudna is sure her heart would shatter if Imogen ever looked at her with disgust and hate. But gods, if Imogen asks, there is little Laudna can do to stop herself from telling her everything.
Maybe things would turn out alright, maybe Imogen would love her even more for those parts.
Laudna shakes her head quickly, getting rid of those thoughts. Those are hopeless and optimistic. Optimism does no good when the target of them is gods know where, if she's even alive.
She curls herself into a ball, her stringy hair sheltering her from the rest of the group. Even if Imogen were to hate her, to be horrified and disgusted, Laudna would be okay with it if only it meant that she can see her again.
She takes a breath, the sound rattling through her chest. She hugs herself, swallowing thickly. Seconds at a time, that's all she needs to do. Count the seconds until she sees Imogen again.
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💭 for your ascension au?
𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.
Hnrgh. Haven't really given this AU much thought recently because things keep changing in new and fairly interesting ways that completely clash with some of the base stuff going on. Namely Fearne upgrading with Titan Power rather than getting a Fey upgrade (which I still feel would have been cooler for her).
Anyways!
A thought that was kind of bouncing around is that Imogen would try to push Delilah out as Laudna's Warlock Patron and take that spot, much like Fjord, the Wildmother, and Uk'otoa.
But then we found out that Delilah is (supposedly) acting as Laudna's tether to Life while Laudna tethers Delilah to the Material Plane. Also that Laudna... doesn't really seem to want to get rid of Delilah? In part for power, and in part because she's essentially been Stockholm Syndromed into wanting to keep Delilah around by 30 years of isolation with no ability to actually escape Delilah ever.
Which moves us to this: a Psychic/Storm demi-god/lesser deity, while much more powerful than a necromancer archmage high peon of a newborn god, doesn't really have the same kind of essence to tether an undead life.
So while I think Laudna would agree to letting Imogen try to oust Delilah, seeing as she never denies Imogen anything (even when it's not really advisable for one, the other, or both), I don't think it would go well.
Now don't get me wrong, ascended!Imogen has plenty of juice to sever Delilah's connection and rip her out of Laudna. But she doesn't have the follow-up skillset to re-anchor Laudna to Life. Or fix the damage forcefully yanking Delilah out would probably do given they're entwined souls at this point.
Lucky for them, Ashton has a now super-juiced half-Beacon brain, and consecution is very much about tethering Life. And they know all about living with hastily, desperately mended cracks.
So since Laudna is interested in living and Not Disappointing Imogen, she makes a Pact with Ashton for power and life in exchange for (continuing their) friendship and helping him keep his people safe when asked (which she'd do anyways because they've got essentially the same friend group).
As for how that effects Laudna's warlock powers, I've discussed a similar idea here.
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I need to yell about fcg and *specifically* this great post that you wrote ( https://www.tumblr.com/sparring-spirals/747570433506902016/okay-after-some-sleep-back-on-my-bullshit-lets ) because it made me realize that I really, truly hope Laura will remember she took off her circlet moments before the bang and Imogen had the chance to hear that fcg was at peace with this decision, not because they were trying to be a martyr, but because they had a true chance to save their friends, knowing full well that detonating *would* be a sacrifice because their life *did* matter.
(I hope sending asks is okay, sorry to barge in like this)
Ahw, hell yeah, glad the post hit hard, recontextualizing it in my head helped a lot with chewing through my feelings about. All of this. I'm always okay with asks!! As long as folks are aware I am not necessarily going to agree with every ask that comes in, and more critically, sometimes I disappear off the face of the Earth for a while, dont answer asks, and then feel too embarassed about answering them so much later/get asks about something I didnt watch, go "ah ill answer when i watch it" and then. Well.
(To the various people who sent the total 12 asks that have been sitting in my box for over a year now. I am. So sorry.)
Honestly, I didnt even think about the possibility that Imogen might have heard it, goddamn. Fascinating. I was fully bracing myself for Bell's Hells just- never knowing, and them having to grapple with it. Which. Takes me out at the knees, tbh. I hesitate to speculate on it too much when the episode is going to come out Thursday and probably prove me wrong, but. God, there's no world where the Bell's Hells would instinctively know that F.C.G had made the call with that attitude, and fuck, that puts all of it into a different light, clearly.
I'm a little apprehensive and tbh deeply curious to see how the Bell's Hells take this- the depth of the loss, the sudden nature of it, the victory against Otohan probably not even feeling that way. Maybe wanting to honor F.C.G's sacrifice but. Probably. And understandably. Angry at them for making that call, but he's not. Even there for them to be angry at. So what then? So what then? They can have all these feelings and have all these questions about why he did it, about what he was thinking, and he's not there to answer them, and that's the issue.
If Imogen did hear his last thoughts, this elevates it into a different kind of heartbreaking, but probably still easier overall. The world where they don't know. Is. A more tricky one to navigate, for sure.
But also if I'm being honest. I am not opposed to how the cast would have the Bell's Hells experience and explore that scenario. So i mean. I mean. I hope so too. But if Imogen didnt. Consider me buckled in for whatever happens.
#GOD i shouldnt commit to watching the next ep when idk if i will or not but. i DO WANT TO SEE THE AFTERMATH.....#critical role#cr spoilers#spar speaks#c3e91#ask away!#fcg#speculation#bell's hells#im really glad that meta seems to strike people. it helped me a lot to parse through my thoughts and hit that spot in my thinking so im gla#it resonates with others#sorry if this answer is kind of disjointed. im out of practice answering and have many thoughts lmao
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The Lost Sister - Part 5
Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.
Garrick Tavis x OC
A/N: Thank you for all the love on this little series guys! Literally makes my day seeing you guys interact with it. Little bit of a shorter one, but I hope you like it.
Been thinking about maybe taking requests? Obviously I am still quite new to this so I may not be good at writing everything. But if you have any ideas feel free to throw them my way :)
The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist
Challenges only happen once a week, so the next few weeks I continue to feel Imogen’s gaze on me every time we’re in the same room. Which is only a few times a day for meals and battle brief. But every single time I feel her eyes on me, watching my every move. I get the feeling the only reasons she hasn’t tried to start a fight already is us being on the same squad, and the fact I am Xaden’s sister.
As we stand around the mats watching the matches take place, I can practically hear my heart beating in my ears. I know I can hold my own on the mat, but something about the prospect of me being called up with Imogen terrifies me. The boys have assured me its nothing and I am over thinking. But the looks they give each other, mainly Garrick, do not convince me in the slightest. And despite how many times I had asked Garrick directly, he would not budge. I hadn’t talked to him or the others in the last few days, mostly keeping to my fellow first years in my squad. I wasn’t the only one who had noted their annoyance at me ignoring them. With Violet and Rhiannon commenting on it. Multiple times Garrick had tried to get me alone between classes or at the end of the day.
The moment I’ve been dreading is here. Emetterio points a finger at Imogen and I with a smile on his face. “My two best female fighters. Lets see what you can do.”
I’m kind of glad Garrick and Xaden are busy with their own fights to see us called up. But Bodhi is not. He goes to move but I give him a look, trying to convey I do not want him to interfere. He falters for a second before nodding and staying in his place. He’s probably going to get an earful from Xaden and Garrick later. But I don’t care. I need to know why she’s been acting the way she is. And if Garrick and Xaden get involved before the fight starts, they have the power to call it off.
Imogen starts circling the mat as if I am her prey. As if she’s out to kill me. As much as I would like to think my squad and being Xaden’s sister keeps me safe, the reality is people die in the riders quadrant. Nothing keeps you safe here.
”You need to keep away from what’s not yours Riorson.” She spits out at me.
What's not mine? Her eyes flick to Garrick a few mats away who is still focused on his fight to see Imogen and I have been paired up. That’s when it clicks. There is either history there, or she wants him. And here I come, essentially back from the dead and either put a divide between them, or wrecked any hopes she had of being with him. She’s jealous. And honestly who wouldn’t be. As per usual he is fighting without a shirt on, and its definitely a site to see. All the girls near his mat are watching him. She thinks I’m his. If only her words were true.
I don’t get a chance to respond back. In a blink of an eye Imogen has run at me and starts berating me with punches I can barely keep up with. Occasionally she gets a hit on my ribs, stomach or the side of my face. She’s coming at me with every thing she can. She tires for a second and I step back before launching a well placed kick to her stomach, sending her stumbling back before I am on her again. She not as lucky as I was when it comes to blocking punches and I manage to her a few decent hits on her. One of them lands on her nose, sending blood down her face and across the mat.
I vaguely hear male voices yelling that sound like Garrick and Xaden. But I block them out, focusing on the fight at hand. My luck runs out and she gets a well placed knee into my stomach causing me to double over, earning me a knee to the face and a sickening crunch to my nose. The familiar taste of blood trickles into my mouth. She pushes me to the ground and I have enough time to shield my face before she’s punching me again. Someone tries to pull her off but they are pulled away. I use the distraction to flip us over so I am on top. She comes at me with her knees and elbows, and manages to get a foot up and kick me off her. I land on my back and my head hits the hard ground in stead of the mat with a loud thud. I barely hear Imogen approaching me with the ringing in my ears. I look up in time to see her foot coming for my face, barely rolling out of the way in time. Her eyes flare with anger as I get away and am able to get back on my feet. I need to end this fast. The knock to my head has definitely given me a mild concussion paired with the knee to the nose I received earlier. If she gets another good hit on me I’m done. I need to win this to get her off my back.
She screams and runs at me with all she’s got. I can use her anger against her. She won’t be thinking straight. I plant one of my legs between hers, duck under her arms and use my ground foot to pivot around her locking my arms around her neck in a choke hold and locking both her legs between mine. My extra weight throws her off and we land on the mat with her on top of me, but I manage to hold on.
She claws at my arms and tries to kick her legs out. It takes all my energy to keep her locked in place. But slowly I feel her become weaker and weaker. Around the mat others yell for her to fight back and yield. If she’s anything like me, she wont yield. This is personal. After another minute her arms fall away and she passes out in my arms. I don’t even hear Emetterio call the end of the fight due to the ringing in my ears. But I know its done. I push her weight off me and do my best to sit up.
I look to my right and see Imogen coming to on the mat next to me covered in blood from where I got her in the nose earlier in the fight. We just stare at each other for a few second before she nods her head at me. Once we’re both healed and recovered I’ll have to find her and talk to her. A few other second years come and help her up and lead her towards the doors, most likely to the healers quadrant.
I go to stand but a big pair of arms wrap around me and pick me up as if I weigh nothing. I don’t even have to look up to see who it is as their familiar scent invades my senses despite my nose feeling like it should no longer work. I look up into Garrick’s hazel eyes as he walks with me bridal style in his arms out the doors and towards the healers quadrant.
Part 6
@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt
#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#garrick tavis x reader#the empyrean#bodhi durran#garrick tavis#garrick tavis imagine
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Bells Hells as a video game group
This has been stuck in my head so enjoy
Ashton
Outside of gaming with the hells he is silent unless talked at.
Curses ALOT then apologizes right after only to do it again. Type to get angry as shit then reassure everyone hes not actually mad
When playing with the hells he does not shut up and will defend them on mic
Shit talks playfully with friends, seriously with randoms
Has been banned from both voice and text chat before
Defaults tank characters, dotes on the healers, gives the dps shit
Always up to game but is never the first to ask
Would befriend the enemy team and then team kill them all
AGGRESSIVELY protects his team and will haul ass to go and save them
Imogen
Gets so short and snippy with people when they start being mean
Basically turns into Ashton when provoked but makes REALLY personal insults
very kind natured otherwise, gives good callouts and reassures everyone its okay to suck
will tell you if you suck though without holding back
Mains either the more annoying DPS or mains the high DPS support characters, can play exactly one tank really well and swaps with Ashton alot.
Is one of the two who normally get the group together to game
would remark at the enemy team trying to befriend her as shes killing them: “Aw, they’re waving at me! guns them down”
has been timed out of the chat before for shit talking someone
Laudna
Pure support
Pockets Imogen and Fearne
just says sorry in chat when people get onto her about healing
not great with comms but super positive
would spectate more than play
encourages the group to get matching skins
ONLY talks on mic with the hells
would be super aggressive towards the other teams healers and would target them
Everyone eats up her cheering and praise
Chetney
Worse team player to ever exist
wonders off ALOT trying to flank or do something cheeky, gets killed more than he succeeds
would troll a bit in chat
plays mainly dps or tanks, typically plays high damage characters
shit talks constantly but really weirdly like would ask people if their mother made breakfast for them or would remark their dog doesn’t love them
has the worse KDA
picks one of his friends to annoy at the beginning of each match then hangs around them the entire time, ignoring any objectives
reminds everyone, right after he gets super tilted, that its just a game and its okay to get a little mad but to remember we are all friends
Fearne
Support and DPS main but the type that are little shits
plays the most annoying characters to make the enemy team mad then sends :3 in chat when they get tilted at her
some how never dies despite putting her self in harms way CONSTANTLY its mainly Ashton and Chetney keeping her alive
Targets people who kill her friends then tbags them
holds grudges against her teammates and her enemies
will withhold heals and make you beg or bar for them
swaps off support because “i think we need more damage” then gets one good play and nothing else
blames the others for getting hurt so much instead of owning up to not healing people
would egg on the others trolling as well as troll herself, BIGGEST troll at times
would flirt with people on mic and convince them to throw then call them stupid
Orym
Flex main. Often fills for what ever the team needs and can play pretty much anything
Always tries to get the team to work together but will cave if they want to do memey plays
very positive and even apologizes for the other hells
moment he leaves the team vc and is only with the hells is he ranting and going off about their bad teammates/enemies
picks on the hells for doing bad plays or making bad choices
carries the team ALOT
always checks on everyone as the game continues
has to be baited into shit talking and will only shit talk the other hells
REALLY good at roasting randoms who are being dicks for some reason. Is the first to mention they have two kills and twenty deaths then really politely asks why that is
the other one who gets the group together to play
does keep the other hells in line when they get to tilted or mean, mandatory break enforcer as well
FCG
Tries to fill, is really bad at it
really good at support but is SUPER good at a single tank character and only them.
plays the same character and is only really good at them, has trouble learning others
Very nice on comms but super bad at them
When people are mean to him hes kinda naive about it or asks why they are being so mean which usually either results in people rage quitting or shutting up
the rest of the hells use him to gauge how bad the team chats gonna be
Has the best aim out of the hells
loves telling people to git gud
can easily be made to say weird or trolling shit by the other hells
likes to emote/dance when he kills people as he thinks its a nice little victory dance and isn’t him being mean.
is the one dragged into the games by the others when they need an extra teammates
#critical role#critical role campaign 3#ashton greymoore#orym of the air ashari#laudna#imogen temult#fearne calloway#fcg#chetney pock o'pea
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Here's a fun game! A while back I talked about how when people choose favorite characters by narrative themes, the two most obvious paths through the campaigns to me were Keyleth to Caleb to Imogen (magic users burdened by talent with high expectations and parental loss/abandonment themes) and Vex to Fjord to [no single obvious answer in C3 but Ashton and Laudna both explore many elements of it] (coping mechanism of suppressing every emotion or sign of vulnerability and developing a mask because you are not enough and also too much). Anyway I got a lot of asks that were like "ooh analyze me" and at the time I did not want to, but now I will! Ask me!
Rules:
I am going to need at least 3 characters, one per main campaign. You can, as a bonus, send one C3 guest other than Team Issylra (we haven't seen enough of them yet) and/or one EXU main PC you'd consider a favorite.
I am going to operate in good faith and treat you in good faith but also this is about NARRATIVE THEMES so if I really can't find one I am going to say "this feels like an aesthetically motivated choice" or whatever. It's valid on your part but I'm not really looking for an argument. Basically as with all ask memes this is about my opinion; if you don't want my opinion don't ask for it.
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Fic: The Bare, The Cutting, The Stark (Laudna, ensemble | T | Spoilers through C3E35)
Happiest of happy birthdays, @loquaciousquark! (One day early, but who's counting?)
The Bare, The Cutting, The Stark
(AO3)
Laudna decides there’s a novelty to this particular brand of friendship, to two people calling into the hollowness in each other and listening to the echoes.
Ashton’s being uncharacteristically quiet as they walk back from the pub, hunched with hands dug deep into his pockets. Imogen is marginally more animated than usual, up ahead, while F.C.G. sends question after question her way in a tone that’s gone past genuine curiosity into teasing. Laudna falls back a little to walk alongside Ashton and, when he shows no sign of realizing it, she brings out Pâté and nudges him with a skeletal paw. “Copper for your thoughts?”
Ashton squints at Pâté for a little too long and Laudna watches his thought processes tick over into this might as well happen as clearly as if they’re etched into the hole in his skull. “Just thinking. I don’t know what the fuck about. Just one of those nights, I guess.”
“Ah yes. One of those nights.” Not for the first time, Laudna makes a mental note to figure out a way to puppet a lascivious eyebrow waggle onto a raven’s skull.
“No, not one of those nights,” Ashton says, and adds a little ugh that Pâté courteously ignores. “Too much booze, not enough sleep, getting a little maudlin. That kind of bullshit.”
“Ah yes,” says Pâté, mournfully, “I know it well.”
Ashton squints. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but do you actually drink?”
“Do I drink?” Pâté scoffs. Laudna scoffs. They scoff together.
“Right,” says Ashton, and adds, “fuck,” mostly by way of punctuation.
Laudna sighs and folds Pâté back into her pack, then stretches back and looks up at the skies as they walk. “Stars are different here, you know. I asked Imogen about it once, and I guess Whitestone was so far north that the angles it would look at things are all topsy-turvy compared to here. Those three in a row? The bright ones. They’re usually way closer to the horizon, if you can see them at all.”
Ashton grunts, but, drawn out in spite of himself, adds, “They look fine to me.”
“The stars would look wrong to you if you came to Whitestone.” Laudna scratches a patch of rougher skin on the back of her hand until it flakes away. “I guess a lot of things would. That’s interesting, isn’t it? We all have a different sky that lives in our heads and helps us know when we’re home.”
“Huh,” Ashton says, then looks at her from under his furrowed brow. “I cannot figure you out.”
She smiles. “Thanks.”
“No, I mean, you’ve got every reason to be miserable and, I don’t know, tragic. But you’re not. You’re really fucking happy.”
Ah . “You do know you’re allowed to be happy even if something terrible happens? Maybe even especially if something terrible happens.”
“‘Allowed’ isn’t the problem. I’m just amazed you chose it.”
She shrugs, listening to her shoulder click. “Same as anything, gets easier with practice.”
“Huh,” he says again, but the hunch in his shoulders is a little less pronounced and he looks at her sidelong. “Did you really fix up houses?”
“Of course!” Laudna tosses her hair, a turn of phrase with unfortunately literal connotations as a few strands detach from her scalp, drifting off in a cool breeze. “You have no idea how satisfying it is to find something completely demolished and build it up into, well, a home.”
“Yeah,” Ashton says, and breathes long and slow through his nose. “Yeah. Seems like the kind of thing you’re teaching us, though. But this didn’t happen, did it?”
Laudna’s next step is out of sync, wrong in a way that’s hard to place. She pauses, stares down at the offending foot. Ashton stops, watching her with narrowed eyes. He is, she thinks, quite literally watching for her to trip up. She shivers. Her foot hovers above the packed sand below her.
“Hey,” Ashton says, and she looks up to meet his eyes. He points up. “Stars’re wrong.”
Laudna falls, again.
*~*~*
“I just think it’s important to investigate whether there’s anything repressed keeping you from being your fullest self,” F.C.G. is saying. She’s reclined on a couch, hands intertwined behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. She’s amusing herself by pressing her fingers together, feeling the scrape of bone on bone.
“I wouldn’t know, then, would I? If I were repressing.” Cracks in that ceiling, she notes with a professional’s critical eye. Could probably spackle over it, nothing structurally unsound.
F.C.G. sighs, which is exactly the kind of affectation she’s in no position to judge. “I don’t know, Laudna. I was just hoping we could make some progress of some sort. The others are going to be gone for a while and you thought this would help.”
Well, to be perfectly honest, she’d thought it would help F.C.G. more than it would help her. There’d been a particularly despondent air about them ever since, ever since... well. Ever since. She racks her brain for appropriately psychological repartee. “I could talk about my dreams if you’d like.”
The lights in F.C.G.’s eyes dim suspiciously. “Are they disturbing?”
Laudna shrugs. “Depends on how you feel about shopping for vegetables at a market that’s also underwater.”
“Aha!” F.C.G. waves a hand in her face. “Literally submerged beneath the surface.”
Laudna props herself up on one elbow. “The vegetables?”
“Possibly manifestations of guilt or trauma.”
“Or maybe just cabbage.”
“Hmm,” says F.C.G., and then, more softly, “I mean, if you feel okay, Laudna, I’ll stop pushing. I just worry, you know?”
“Of course. I worry about you, too.”
“Seems like a strange thing, to worry about something that isn’t soul-touched.”
Now Laudna stands, crossing her arms and looming over F.C.G. “Letters, you know you’re more than a thing. You’re alive. You have to have realized it by now.”
F.C.G. sighs again, and this time his eyes have the faint red of looming sunset at their core. “I wasn’t talking about me.”
Laudna sits, and the couch folds up around her.
Laudna falls, again.
*~*~*
“See, you gotta show it off if you’ve got the burl. Can’t go hiding all that complexity beneath paint.” Chetney pats the plank of wood in her arms with a satisfied air.
“Uh-huh.” Laudna sets the plank down and takes a moment to swipe the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. When she’d agreed to help Chetney build their new home - their new home - she’d sorely underestimated the amount of heavy lifting involved. Or, perhaps, she’d underestimated how little heavy lifting Chetney would be doing. “And... the burl is?”
Chetney casts her a pitying glance from under his bushy eyebrows. “Only the prettiest part of the wood. You see a big, weird lump on a tree, it’s ugly, right?” He raises a finger before she can respond. “Wrong! You cut through that growth, you’re gonna get all sorts of decorative squiggles. Gorgeous. And complicated, as all good things are. You save that for a table, you’ve got a centerpiece.”
“Got it,” says Laudna, and gives the wood a little appreciative pat of her own, which Chetney acknowledges with a nod. “You know, this has been a truly instructive experience. I never thought I’d be in a position to build something from scratch rather than fix something up.”
Chetney shrugs. “Wouldn’t trust anyone else to help me out.”
The casual approval is warmth under her cold skin. “How long do we have, anyway? If we want to surprise the others, we should probably hurry up.”
Chetney waves a hand. “We have all the time in the world.”
That seems about right, so Laudna slips comfortably into the rhythm of building, of improving, of changing. She climbs a ladder, balances on the top rung, starts carving a winding, decorative vine into a ceiling beam.
“Nobody’s going to see that, you know,” Chetney calls up.
“I know. I just like knowing it’s there.”
Chetney chuckles. “But you know what you have to do, right?”
Laudna’s mouth is quite suddenly dry. She doesn’t know what she has to do. Not at all.
“Cut out the growth. Hang onto it until you can use it for something better.”
The ladder tips. Laudna falls, again.
*~*~*
“This is less than ideal,” Dorian says.
Laudna grins at him, a little too wide, feeling the pulse of his hot blood over her fingers. “You’re fine. You’re fine. Letters is on their way.”
“Uh-huh.” Dorian cranes his neck to look up and thumps his head against the ground. “Ow. Ow. How did that hurt worse than the stab wound in my gut?”
“I think pain just finds new and exciting ways to be an asshole. Hold still,” she adds, even though Dorian’s not moving much, because it’s the sort of thing people say in this situation.
“I can’t believe he snuck up on me. What an embarrassing encounter.” Dorian glances down at her hands, putting pressure on the wound, and his normally cerulean skin blanches to an icy gray. He looks away. “Too busy singing. Didn’t even see the blade.”
“You’re fine,” Laudna repeats, because it’s also the sort of thing people say. “Sometimes it happens, that’s all. But you’re not alone, so we’ve got your back.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Dorian says, and his face relaxes a little. “I’d forgotten how nice it is to be with all of you again.”
“I’m glad you could make it.” Laudna opts for a wry tone and quirks an eyebrow, which makes Dorian smile. “We missed you. It’s hard when things like that change.”
“Yeah,” Dorian says. “Puts you off-balance.” He reaches up and grabs her shirt by the collar, the tightness of his clenched fist belying his calm, almost dazed expression. “Watch your back, Laudna, please.”
She smiles vague reassurance at him, glances up to look for a flash of yellow on the battlefield.
“Laudna,” says Dorian, and when she looks down black ichor is pouring over him. “Laudna, you’re hurt.”
She looks down, and down, and down.
Laudna falls, again.
*~*~*
“Family is complicated,” Fearne says, with a sense of wonder, as though it’s only just occurred to her.
The Feywild is just as weird as Laudna’s always imagined, full of color and life and chaos in a way that’s just a little uncomfortable. “Never thought I’d be here,” she says, arrested by the strangeness of it.
“Pretty sure you didn’t come here. But maybe it’s not too late,” Fearne says, which makes about as much sense as she usually does. Laudna joins her, sitting on an oddly blue-tinged log across a vast, impossibly clear stream of water.
“Tell me about your grandmother,” Laudna says, kicking her feet and watching her reflection below distort beyond the rushes. “I feel like I don’t know much about her at all.”
“Oh, she’s marvelous.” Fearne leans back, beaming up at the perpetually twilit sky. “She knows everything. She’s seen everyone. She grants wishes, sort of. And her cooking is incredible. Her baking especially!” The broad smile on her face flickers. “I just... you know, it’s complicated now, what they told me, what she is, what they did...”
“I think complicated is okay if it can make things feel that wonderful, even for a moment.” Laudna kicks her legs again, seeing tattered trouser legs, bare feet scuffed with dirt. “All we really have is moments.” Elegant leggings, delicate boots in the elven style. “Moments can be simple, too. A good laugh, a good meal. I really do think those can exist outside of what made them, if it helps.”
“Maybe,” Fearne allows. “It’s all chaos anyway.”
Laudna catches the glint of mischief in Fearne’s eyes, follows her gaze down to the raging waters below their feet. “I mean, how deep could it be?”
“Only one way to find out.”
The hand on her back is warm. The water is cold.
Laudna falls, again.
*~*~*
“I’m pretty sure they think we’re the only ones who’ve got our shit together,” Orym says, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. Their companions are comforting lumps in bedrolls scattered haphazardly around the fire, and the sky is showing the first faint hints of sunlight. Nearly the end of their watch, then.
“Well, they’re absolutely correct,” Laudna says, primly, but she can’t keep the chuckle out of her voice. “I think they like having someone to look after them. And you clearly love looking after people.”
Orym pauses in the act of sharpening his blade. “I guess I do, yeah. Nice to have a family again.”
“Extremely.” Laudna yawns.
Nothing escapes Orym’s attention when he’s on watch. “Still tired? You can get some more shut-eye if you need it, I think I’ve got things well in hand.”
She waves the thought away. “I’m fine. Just all catching up with me a bit, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Orym says, a shadow shuttering the accustomed openness of his face. “It’ll do that.”
The fire is an excellent conversationalist, and they give over for a few long minutes to its crackles and pops.
“Laudna,” Orym says. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” Laudna covers a yawn with the back of her hand. “I think maybe I am, too.”
“You should really get some rest. Storm’s coming.”
Laudna laughs. “Storm’s always coming,” she says, but sinks back into her bedroll with the tang of copper in her mouth and the grit of sand on her teeth.
Laudna falls, again.
*~*~*
Imogen’s smile shows her teeth, a flash of white in the darkness. “You got it?”
Victorious, Laudna holds up the bottle, passes it through the window to Imogen, then clambers out onto the roof beside her, careful of her footing after last week’s slippery tile incident. She settles into her usual spot at Imogen’s left hand and watches as Imogen painstakingly pours from the bottle into two beautifully designed ceramic mugs. The wine is spicy and goes straight to her head in a way that makes the world stretch out at the seams. “Ah yes,” she says. “A fine vintage.”
Imogen snorts. “Laudna, I really don’t think it is if you got it for three copper from that guy with the booth on the corner.”
“Pretty sure it’s a one-of-a-kind vintage the likes of which this world has never known.”
“I stand corrected,” Imogen says, solemnly, but she’s never been much good at holding her liquor, either, and she snorts in a most indelicate way. “Sit corrected, anyway.”
“I thought it was supposed to rain. Some big storm, right? Everyone was talking about it in the market.” Laudna peers up at the clear sky full of stars. Not quite where they should be, but she’s getting used to it.
“Guess the storm passed us by.” Imogen dangles her empty mug by its handle. “We were due a little good luck.”
“Oh, I think we’ve had plenty.” Laudna inhales the warmth of the night air, still such a novelty after the evening chill she grew up with. “New friends, new worlds, new adventures. And we’re facing it all together."
“Yes,” Imogen says, her voice like stone. “We are.”
The tiles are cool beneath her. The air is warm. The air is hot. Laudna breathes. “I don’t know where I am.”
Imogen takes her hand. “We’ll find you, Laudna. You know we will.”
Laudna looks at her, and the stars above tilt and shift and whirl. Familiar, unfamiliar. Dangerous, safe.
The hand in her hand, solid, real, her body a fixed stone as the waters rush over her.
Laudna stands, again, and her pulse thrums home, home, home.
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