#DrabbleWRIMO

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 2 - Step

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FCG & Ashton - ModernHuman AU

Steps.

Why did it always have to be steps?

What was wrong with a nice, accessible ramp? They were easier for everyone, nobody had to fear tripping down or up them, parents with strollers could get inside, injured folk didn't have to struggle… and Fresh Cut Grass could have a little of his independence back, being able to wheel themself in with their wheelchair.

But of course life was hardly ever that kind.

A tired sigh slipped past their lips as he stared up at the flight of stairs, blocking them from the sweet little cafe they’d been oh so excited to try out. A customer, Jester, they thought, had been raving about the cupcakes here, and knowing the woman to be a real pastry connoisseur, Fresh Cut Grass had near instantly wanted to get a few themself.

But that dream seemed so cruelly out of reach now.

“Man, you’d think fucker’s would have caught on by now. Shit like this doesn't fly these days! Fancy new chairs and tables, but the owner can't be assed to make their business accessible. Bastard!”

Oh how they startled, jolting in such a way that almost had Fresh Cut Grass and their chair veering dangerously close to toppling. A solid, scarred hand steadied them, letting his frantically beating heart finally come to a rest.

“Fuck! Didn't mean to scare ya like that. My bad. You alright?”

“Y-Yeah! You just gave me a right startling, is all. I'm a-okay!”

“That's a relief. I’d feel like crap if I’d sent your heart packin’ or something…”

Did… Did the stranger look guilty? Well, that just wouldn't do at all! After all, a stranger was just a friend you hadn't met, and the last thing Fresh Cut Grass ever wished to see was a friend all sad and down in the dumps!

“It's fine, really! I spook real easy, my friend Imogen says I’d jump at my own shadow if I ever forgot it was there! But you're not scary yourself. I like your purple hair, and the eyeliner! Oh, and your cane too! Did you decorate it yourself? It looks fun-spooky!”

The stranger stared down at them, slowly blinking as their one good eye focused down on Fresh Cut Grass, taking in everything from their chunky cerulean blue box braids and round, thick glasses, to their bright yellow sweater and mismatched fingerless gloves. In contrast to their own ragged leather vest, covered in hand stitched patches and badges, deep red plaid pants and spiked belts, topped off with boots so hefty they looked able to smash someone’s head in… Well, they couldn't look more different.

Yet Fresh Cut Grass still smiled up at them, all warm and welcoming and so completely genuine that it seemed to catch them off guard.

“Most people would just flip me off and tell me to get fucked,” they muttered, leaning heavily upon their cane before shrugging and sticking a hand in their pocket, seemingly relaxing. “I didn't decorate this shit myself. A friend did. She’s one hell of a spooky ass bitch. Real arts and crafty. But anyway. I’m Ashton. Ashton Greymoore. You?"

“Oh, right! Introductions! Smiley Day to ya, Ashton, I’m Fresh Cut Grass!”

There was a beat of silence, more than a tad awkward, as Fresh Cut Grass awaited their response. Likely a laugh or a roll of the eyes or maybe even a sneer! Most people were funny about names when they weren't the most normal.

Not Ashton though.

No. He grinned, wide and bright and just shimmering with absolute delight.

“That's one hell of a name. You picked it yourself?”

“I did! It's my favorite smell. Ya don't think it's… weird?”

“Oh no, it's weird. But, I mean, fuck, have you looked at me? I like weird,” Ashton grinned wider, throwing one last glance at the inaccessible cafe as something shifted once more in his demeanor. “I know a place a few blocks from here. Unlike these fuckers, they actually give a fuck about people like us. Wanna join me there, Grass?”

“... Do they do cupcakes?” Fresh Cut Grass asked, their mind already made up before Ashton even had a chance to answer.

“Freshly baked in house. So… You coming?”

“I’d love t’ join ya! Thank ya kindly, Ashton!”

Their laughter in turn was rough and harsh, yet the warmth it held settled deep within Fresh Cut Grass’ tired bones… and within moments, he couldn't even quite remember why they’d been upset at all.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #ashton greymoore #fcg & ashton #bells hells #Rock & Roll #modern human au #Day 2 - Step #Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

[radamazard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

Day 1 - Abolish

-------------------------

Bell Hells Modern AU

“What the FUCK, Orym?! You can't just ban shit on the fly like that!”

Orym sighed at his friend’s combative outburst, more than used to Ashton’s usual brand of colourful language mixed with his signature rage. Perhaps for most things he’d be willing to let this go, to peacefully talk this out.

But considering the circumstances…

“You know I'm not one for hard enforcement. Normally I'd just let this go but, well…” Orym trailed off, his gaze drifting to the sizable crack in his coffee table. At least then Ashton had the decency to look guilty about it, unlike certain OTHER friends of his in this room.

Fearne, all sweet smiles and innocent doe eyes, met Orym’s gaze easily. There wasn't a trace of guilt to be found, though he honestly wasn't all that surprised by that. To expect shame from Fearne was like expecting your cat to feel bad about breaking grandma’s urn; it just wasn't going to happen.

He sighed heavily, tension high in his shoulders.

“I agree with Orym!” A chipper voice joined the conversation, and Orym swiveled his head just in time to watch Fresh Cut Grass wheel themself into his lounge room. “It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and I think punchin’ the table every time someone gets an Uno is… well, it's askin’ for something to break.”

“And I'd rather it NOT be my coffee table. Or someone's wrist. Again,” Orym not so gently reminded the pair.

“Hey! It was a fracture and it was damn well worth it!” replied Ashton. “I'd do it again to wipe that sweet little smile off your cheating ass face, Calloway!”

“It's only cheating if you catch me~” Fearne retorted with a light and breezy giggle. “But fiiiiine, we’ll just have to play by a different set of rules… Strip Uno~?”

Orym settled back on the couch, feeling as FCG dropped himself down beside him. He dropped his head against his ever smiling friend’s shoulder, and melted ever so slightly into their touch as he felt deft fingers slip into his hair.

“Thanks, Grass…” Orym muttered appreciatively, eyes growing heavy as a comfortable warmth enveloped him. He loved his friends dearly, more than almost anything in the world. That didn't stop them from being about as exhausting as a five hour triathlon when it came to such minor disputes though.

That's why it was nice to have someone like Fresh Cut Grass around, someone who would usually back him up when it came time to put his foot down and abolish some truly stupid home rules.

Who knew that game night could be such a dangerous battlefield?

“Don't mention it,” FCG chirped in reply. “Always happy to help a good friend!”

#dungeons & drabbles #DrabbleWRIMO #critical role #bells hells #fcg #orym #ashton #fearne #orym of the air ashari #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #day 1 - abolish #Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

[scarletwings92]

Campfire stats

This is one of the things I find the coolest in Campfire right now. the ability to see how much you've written, and which project it was written in. While it's not perfectly accurate because it didn't pick up that I copied around 3300 words of drabbles from Word doc onto my Campfire account it still feels so good to see how much more I write. Here's hoping I can keep up the word count, or even increase it. Now that this year's drabblewrimo is done I'll be returning to writing MY DMC fanfic and working on a few extra drabbles for fun before the end of the year. I'm hoping to do a historical timeline for a few of my more established countries/continents.

#drabble #drabblewrimo #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #devil may cry #aspiring author

[cammiemile]

Here's the prompt list for DrabbleWrimo 2021!

A drabble is a story of 100 words (some choose exact, others choose to give or take), and the aim of DrabbleWrimo is to write a single Drabble each day of November.

Feel free to share the prompt list, and tag your Drabbles with #DrabbleWrimo2021 so we can find them!

😌✒🥃

#drabblewrimo2021 #nanowrimo #prompt list

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2023

Day 10 - Risk

(.... Am I literal months late? Yes. Am I still gonna finish all these dang days? Also yes!)

--------------------------------

LoveLetters (FCG/FRIDA)

“You… You want to WHAT?”

To say Fresh Cut Grass was shocked would be a severe understatement.

Look. He loved Frida! They were the love of their life! But gosh were they impulsive. Never had they known anyone to just throw themself into ridiculously high stakes situations with joyus, reckless abandon.

“BASE jumping.”

“And- Let me get this straight, make sure we’re on the same page and all… That’s jumpin’ offa places. Like, for fun? Real tall things, like cliffs and bridges?”

FRIDA chuckled, low and soft as they knelt down, laying a metallic hand upon their beloved’s jittering shoulder.

“With a parachute, my dear. I may be reckless, but I am not without sense.”

“That’s still-” He sputtered, core sparklingly a-thrum in what could only be described as a wicked mix of exasperation and stress. “How on this flat earth do ya find somethin’ like that to be fun?! Do ya worry about dyin’? About things goin’ south real fast? What if the parachute doesn't work? If it snags or tears? What if a dick of a bird decides that today is the day and shows it’s true heartless nature by sabotaging it as ya float down? I know birds, FRIDA! They’re always plottin’ shi-”

A soft clinking broke through their rant, molded lips pressing against the edges of their mouth, silencing him near instantly with a kiss that left them a flutter. How could such a simple thing affect them so, squashin’ their stress like nothing else?

How did FRIDA always keep them from dipping over that edge, from falling deep into that dark, fuzzy pit of alien rage?

… And how did they not fear it? Fear anything?

“Life is far too short for such worries,” Was FRIDA’s answer, seemingly reading his troubled mind. “To live in fear of every poor outcome isn’t living at all. It’s simply existence… and with this second chance I have been granted, I wish to well and truly live.”

For a moment, Fresh Cut Grass was silent, their gaze far as they rocked back and forth, swaying upon their wheel in a motion that the short aeormaton found oddly soothing.

When they spoke again, it was with a voice so small, so quiet, that had FRIDA been of flesh, not metal, his words would have been lost to the wind.

“How do ya avoid worryin’ and stressin’? I don't… understand that. I’m always- Life feels like so much, FRIDA…”

“I suppose,” FRIDA paused, fingers falling upon Fresh Cut Grass’ faceplate, their touch ever so tender as they traced the very seams that held their beloved together. “It's because that's what it means to be alive. Life would be empty, dull, without things, without people to worry about. I take joy in that. In life being a never ending symphony of chaos! In having… you, my love. You are worth any and all stress you may cause.”

“... You’re worth it all too, darlin’.”

And they meant that, he well and truly did.

“... Would it put your mind at ease if I were to have Imogen come with me? Just in case?”

“Please.”

“Consider it done.”

An audible sigh rushed through their ancient frame, so heavy in its relief that FRIDA couldn't help but feel a tad guilty for the stress they’d caused. A guilt that was swiftly banished, as Fresh Cut Grass lifted their head, pressing a zap of a kiss to their lips, thrilled by a fluttering pulse of arcane magic that danced between them.

A thrill better than any they’d known before.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #frida #cr frida #f.r.i.d.a. #LoveLetters #FCG/Frida #fcg x frida #Day 10 - Risk #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 3 - Approach

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FCG & Orym

Orym had known this was coming.

After the day they’d just had there was no way this could be avoided. Still, he’d been hoping it might happen a bit later, perhaps when he wasn't the only one here? Fate was hardly ever that kind though, and he knew there was little point in wishing for what could have been. Whether he liked it or not, this was the situation he’d been dealt with and he, and he alone, would have to deal with it.

… It would really be nice to have at least some back up.

“Hey… Letters?” Orym tentatively tried, putting on his best comforting smile as he ever so carefully approached his quivering friend, almost wincing at just how distressed they seemed. “I know today's been rough. None of us got out of all that unscathed. I- Do you want to maybe… talk about it?”

Internally, he cringed. This really didn't feel like their strong suit. To be perfectly honest, Orym felt far more at home solving problems through actions rather than words, even if he didn't see himself as someone particularly blood thirsty or terrible at talking. It was just that, well, what was there to even say that could make this better?

What Fresh Cut Grass had seen… Orym had only witnessed but a moment of it, and even that was enough to make his stomach twist painfully still.

The grief.

The guilt.

The darkness.

He swallowed thickly, staring down at his shield and Seedling. His only defense, should he fail in soothing his friend. But how soothing was it to be approached like that? To know that one wrong twitch could see your end? Right as you were at your most vulnerable?

That twisting tightened, pain mixing with a nauseating dread.

No. He didn't want that. To be the monster striking at a frightened dog, only gnashing its teeth out of fear.

There was an audible clattering as both sword and shield fell from their weakened grasp, drawing the shaking aeromaton’s attention. Before they could even fully turn around though, there was a pattering of tiny feet, running, dashing and leaping towards them.

A spike of fear.

Terror.

Then… warmth.

Comfort.

Two tiny arms, wrapped oh so tight around Fresh Cut Grass’ torso, ensnaring them in a shaky embrace.

“... I’m sorry you had to see that. That you… That you were made to experience that. You- No one should have to watch their loved ones die. Should have to- to be put through that guilt again,” Orym whispered, his voice so pitifully small.

“I- It's a pain I-... I know those feelings. That pain. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I wish I could- I don't know how to make that hurt lessened. I don't think I really can. But… Having a good friend by your side- It helps. All of you help me every day. So I- I really hope I can do the same for you, Grass. If you’ll let me.”

Tears stung in the corners of his vision. Tears he readily let fall.

Tears that he felt patter against his head in turn, warm and thick, slickening his hair with their dark oil.

“... I-It… It’s so much…” Fresh Cut Grass whimpered out, their face plate dropping to hide away in Orym’s sweet brown locks. “Orym it hurts so much…”

“I know it does, Letters. I know it does…”

Gods above did he know that.

Thus he held Fresh Cut Grass all the tighter, determined to hold his friend together, even as they fell apart on him.

“But it gets better. I promise.”

“...Does it?”

There was such a shattered desperation to their voice, a need, a barely held hope that was so close to slipping away, that it honestly broke Orym’s heart. Fresh Cut Grass deserved so much better than that. A kinder world. A sweeter life.

… One he swore he would make a reality.

“It does. Together, we’ll make it better. I know it doesn't feel that way right now, but please, trust me. It gets better.”

There was a stillness, an end to the quivering that stole Orym’s breath, that shot a needle of fear throughout him, worrying he may have failed.

Had he made it worse? Had that been one stressor too many?

He thought to brace himself, to prepare for the worst, when all of the sudden, Fresh Cut Grass moved.

Arms.

Around him tight.

A hug.

The embrace finally returned.

“... I trust you, Orym. Thank… Thank ya kindly for trustin’ me too.”

“Thank you for rewarding it…” Orym uttered in relief, letting that heartstopping breath finally fall from his exhausted lips. “We can stay like this for ws long as you need, Letters…”

“I- I’d like that…”

“I think I would too.”

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #orym #orym of the air ashari #FCG & Orym #Bells Hells #Silver Bells #Day 3 - Approach #Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 7 - Disappear

(Warning in advance that this one gets kinda angsty~)

-----------------------

FCG Centric Angst + FCG & Ashton

What… What had happened?

One moment, Fresh Cut Grass had been beside their friends, fighting Ludinus and kicking his sorry ass! The next, there had been a flash, a pain that felt beyond the realms of all comprehension, and then… then silence. Darkness.

And now this.

There was a blurry sight before him. His friends? Yeah! His friends! And they were seemingly rejoicing? Had they won? Was this all finally over?

Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but give a hollar of joy, wheeling over to join the rest of the Hells. They were battered, bleeding and bruised, but the smiles they held were unmistakable. There was a joy there that couldn't be touched, a laughter that rang joyously through the smoldering battlefield.

“We did it! I can't believe we actually fuckin’ DID IT!” Ashton damn near shouted, pumping a fist into the air as Fearne threw her arms around him as she dissolved into relieved, almost euphoric laughter.

“And we all made it through!”

“Not a heartbeat lost!” Imogen added, playfully ribbing Laudna in the side, who simply beamed down at her girlfriend, pulling her in for a breathtaking kiss.

“We were impeccably lucky, my dear~ Imagine if that blast had hit anyone else but them?”

Fresh Cut Grass paused in their excited rocking at that comment, a dash of hurt smacking them over the head, in what had otherwise been a sea of celebration.

“That blast still hurt real bad!” They interjected, huffing just a tad. And yet… there was no response. Heck, no one even so much as looked his way! Why… why were they ignoring him? Had he done something wrong?

“That would have been a grim tragedy,” Orym said, with a deeply heavy sigh. “I don't know if I could have taken another loved one dying…”

“Buck up, soldier boy!” Chetney barked out with a grin, his words punctuated by a playful smack upside Orym’s head. “We only lost the pile of scrap metal. Nothing important. That was some bitchin’ luck we had going for us! Figured all our asses would be ash by now!”

What… What were they saying?

This had to be some kind of cruel joke, right? Yeah! That’s right! This was a joke! It wasn't a funny one by any stretch of the imagination, and Fresh Cut Grass hadn't felt so- so hurt like this since… Dancer. B-But hey! Maybe it was the stress of the fight messing with their judgment and humor? Wasn't dark humor a typical coping strategy for heart beat folk?

“Al- Alright, you guys have had your fun! This joke ain’t funny though. That blast really did hurt and so did your words!”

“Fuuuck…” Ashton muttered, a look of realization flashing before their eyes. At that, Fresh Cut Grass felt their core calm down, only realizing now just what an awful buzzing mess it had been. This whole things must have really been stressin’ them out!

“I just realized… I’ll never have to hear them harpin’ on about that fuckin’ Changebringer and her bitch ass brigade of gods ever again! Thank FUCK!"

Ice.

Everything suddenly felt as cold as ice.

They… They hadn't even known they could feel cold until right this very second.

“Ughhhh! That was always so annoying!” Fearne whined, her eyes rolling dramatically as she dropped a hand upon her popped hip. “I was always real tempted to melt his yappy little head, along with that stupid coin of his!”

“I really should have finished the job when they first snapped and tried to murder us all…”

“I should have let ya, Laud. Sorry I stopped you…”

“It’s alright, Imogen~ What’s done is done, hm~? And he’s rather dead now, so what does it matter?”

“At least that pompous fuck was good for something!”

“Despite all the deaths and suffering he caused… I have to agree,” Orym responded, sheathing his blood slicked sword. “Of all the lives he snuffed out… I’m glad that Fresh Cut Grass was one of them. He died with at least one good deed to his soul.”

Was it possible for aeormatons to feel sick?

It absolutely shouldn't have been, and yet… yet sick was what they felt. A deep, twisting nausea they’d only ever heard about swirled through them, leaving their hands quivering and something… thick and slick trailing down his face plate.

Tears?

No, they couldn't be tears. He couldn't cry.

… Right?

There was nothing to be made sense of right now though.

Not as their friends laughed, so bright and free in their cruelty, in their relief at his…

His death.

Was he really dead?

A flick of a hand, so unsure and unsteady, sliding right through Ashton’s rumbling chest, was all the confirmation they needed.

Dead.

They were dead.

They were dead and everyone was glad.

And here he was, left to watch his friends gleefully express their joy, to state just how <b>happy</b> they were that they’d never once have to see him again.

And all FCG could do was watch.

Was… Was this what true despair tasted like?

The bitterness sunk deep into their soul, seeping into the cracks as it ever so slowly shattered.

Deeper and deeper, into the darkness they sank, wishing for nothing more than for themself to vanish, to disappear permanently.

Then, a hand, firm and heavy.

Shaking.

A shout, desperate and concerned,

Light.

Ashton's deeply worried face crept into focus, their hand gripped tight upon his shoulder from where he’d been shaking them.

“Thank fuck…” he whispered, a heavy breath falling from their lips as Ashton pulled Fresh Cut Grass in for a rare and wonderfully crushing hug. “You started whimpering and wincing in your sleep, then there was oil leakin’ from your lenses and you started crying out and… and you wouldn't wake up, Letters. Scared the shit outta me.”

“A-Ashton?” Fresh Cut Grass croaked on out, their whole chassis quivering every bit as much as it had been… before. What had just happened? Wasn't he dead? Why could he touch Ashton now and why did they seem so worried about them?

“I’m here, Grass. I’m here…”

“I- I don't… I don't un- understand…”

“Pretty sure you were havin’ a nightmare, buddy. A real shit one, from how you were reacting. I don't know what you saw in there, but whatever it was, it was bullshit, okay?”

Was it though? It… It had all felt so real.

“You don't… don't…” Fresh Cut Grass tried to get out, failing over and over as sobs wracked through them, staining Ashton’s chest with their dark, oily tears. “You don't hate me, r-right? Don't wa- want me dead, d-do ya?”

Ashton’s arms tightened around them, so firm and heavy that Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but sink into the embrace.

It felt so… safe. Welcoming.

Like he was home.

“Never. You could stab me in the fuckin’ head and I still wouldn't hate you. You could cut my whole damn arm off and you’d still be stuck with me! Not that you ever would on purpose,” Ashton quickly assured them, not wanting to send their very best friend spiraling. Especially right now. They seemed so frightened, so genuinely hurt and distraught.

It was fucking heartbreaking.

“You’re crew, Letters. You know what that means? It means that I’ll fuckin’ OBLITERATE this shitty ass world before I’ll ever let it harm ya, you hear me? The only reason I’d ever want ya dead is if this world gets too fucked up to live on, and that's only cause it’d be crueler to let anyone live then. You… You’re important, Fresh Cut Grass. You're important to me.”

Metallic arms threw themselves around Ashton, clinging to him for dear life as Fresh Cut Grass’ sobs grew louder, shaking violently in safety of the earth Genasi’s embrace,

“... Fuck it. I hope you’re listening, cause I’m only saying this shit once, okay?” Ashton muttered against the cerulean blue wires that mimicked hair on their robotic friend. “... I love you. A fuck ton. I dunno what dream me said, but whatever that fucker spat out, I’m sorry as hell for it. I’d punch that assfuck if I could, you know I would! I… I just hope you can believe the shit I’m sayin’ now.”

For a good few minutes, that confession hung in the air, only sobs and cries filling the cool night air of their inn room. Yet as the time passed, so too did that nightmare, it’s ghoulish whisperings melting away into the candlelit room, leaving only the sounds of their core whirling and Ashton’s steady breaths above him.

“... I- I love you too, Ashton…” Fresh Cut Grass hoarsely whispered, as the final oily tear fell from their face plate, dripping to the now stained floor below. “I- Thank ya… Thank ya so dang much…”

“Don't mention it, Grass. Shit’s what you do for your crew.”

A flash of a grin, warm and wide and so familiarly rough.

It warmed him, right down to their soul.

And as Ashton ushered them over to the side of his bed, making sure they were right by their side as he laid down to sleep once more, their hands gripped tightly together, even as they slipped back into slumber's sweet embrace…

Fresh Cut Grass thought that, perhaps, love really was something they truly understood.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #ashton greymoore #fcg & ashton #rock & roll #bells hells #angst #like #heavy angst #but also hurt/comfort #i am so very sorry that I made Bells Hells be so very mean #even though it was very fun to write! #Day 7 - Disappear #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 11 - Scratch

----------------------

FCG & Anni - Krook House Crew - ModernHuman AU

Fuuuuck.

Okay.

So maybe she’d taken this all a bit too far.

Anni knew well that a prideful fuck, especially one liquored up to the eyeballs, was not the wisest target for her to mouth off to. Had she been thinking a little straighter, perhaps she wouldn't have said a word.

But shitty ass tequila had been flowing through her veins, liquid courage drowning out her better sense as Anni had called out the bastard on his amature castration of Sex Pistols’ Anarchy in the UK. The deteething of such an iconic banger just demanded her scatching criticism, to which the fucker had decided deserved a KNIFE TO THE THIGH in fucking response!

At least she’d gotten to pulverize his nose in return before the two of them had been tossed to the streets, without so much as a napkin to stem the bleeding! Shitty ass dive bar, she hoped it burned to god damned ashes.

So here she stood, having limped her way back home, wincing as she stood in her doorway, trying to jam her keys into the teeny ass, janky lock, when all of a sudden the door swung open, revealing the frantic, panicked form of Fresh Cut Grass.

“Heeeey, Shortstac-”

“Please tell me that’s not your blood stainin’ your jeans, Anni.”

“It’s, uhhh… Just a scratch?”

Anni shrugged, failing miserably to appear casual under her roommate’s withering gaze. His earlier panic was slowly quelling, suppressed by an ever growing sense of frustration tinged exasperation. Yeeesh, she felt a lecture coming on.

Greeeeat.

“Monty Python you ain’t,” Fresh Cut Grass replied dryly, their eyes narrowing as he wheeled himself back and outta the way, giving Anni ample space to hobble on inside around their wheelchair. “Bathroom floor. Now."

He didn't so much as blink in the face of Anni flipping them off, staring down her bleeding, swaying ass, watching as she crumpled beneath the weight of his gaze. Perhaps once upon a time, back in high school, he would have dropped it, wincing and quietly running off to tattle to Ashton and Milo to fix this, not wanting to rock the boat or upset the usually prickly woman.

That was then though.

This was now.

And Fresh Cut Grass wasn't beyond just scooping her up into their lap, hissing and biting like the feral cat she often portrayed, and wheeling her drunk ass there himself!

A fact that Anni knew all too well at this point.

Thus she sighed, harsh and heavy, before dragging her ass as directed, before flopping to the bathroom floor with a heavy thunk, though not before she’d wincingly shimmied out of her now blood soaked jeans.

Ugh, that’d be a bitch to deal with in the morning…

“Between you ‘n Ash, I feel like I oughta be an expert in flesh stitchin’ by now, ya know?” Fresh Cut Grass hummed as they came into view, setting down the trusty old tool box they’d converted into one of many home first aid kits. In this household, just one didn't really, well, suffice.

Carefully he dropped himself to the floor, scooting over on their ass, coming to a stop in front of the ever familiar face of a grouchy, boozed up Anni.

“Ain’t that bad….” She muttered, looking anywhere but him.

“I may have glasses thicker than your common sense, but I ain’t blind, Anni. I know a stab wound when I see one! Please tell me the blade was at least clean? No rust? Or any other bodily fluids you could see?”

“... No rust. Bitch was clean when I yanked it outta my thigh. Fuck if I know how clean it was going in though.”

“At least we shouldn't have to worry about tetanus… You’re still getting a shot after this though.”

“Fuck you!”

“I love ya too, Grumpy Pants~”

Oh how she huffed and grunted, a disgruntled mess as Fresh Cut Grass worked diligently over her wound, cleaning and disinfecting the nasty gash, fingers gliding over and upon it with tender, steady care.

“It’s not too bad. The cut was pretty clean and didn't sink real deep. I think we can stay outta the ER with this one.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Still gonna have to stitch you up though. Sorry…”

“Figured that’d happen.” Anni shrugged, leaning back against the cool tiled wall. “Not the first time, and probably won't be the last. Least you don't throw up afterwards like Milo does.”

“They ain’t the best with open wounds…”

“Understatement of the shittin’ century!” She laughed, the sound weak and boarding on wheezy. “Anyway. Stitch me up so my ass can pass out. Today’s been a bitch and I want it over with before Ashton gets home and bitches at me about pickin’ fights about my weight class again. The hypocritical fuck…”

“Honestly, the two of ya are like two battered peas in a pod!”

Oh how she rolled her eyes, so disdainfully dramatic that Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but laugh.

“Okay, okay! I’m gettin’ to it. Got something to bite on ta? The neighbors weren't all too kind the last time they heard ya hollerin’...”

One more flick of her middle finger, and Anni was tugging off her jacket, shoving the thick, well worn leather into her mouth. There was a grimace in turn from Fresh Cut Grass, yet they didn't say a word, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand.

As always, it was the first stab that stung like a bitch.

Fuck, the whole thing was straight up miserable, only made better by the gentle, sweet mummerings of their companion, his words a steady stream of assurances and praises, letting her know just how well she was doing.

Out loud she’d never admit it, but by gods did it help.

“There! All patched up!”

Anni blinked blearily, looking down to see her thigh not only stitched up, but appropriately redisinfedted and wrapped. She couldn't help but let out a breath, exhausted and tinged with deep relief, as she let herself fall forward, caught assuredly by Fresh Cut Grass’ waiting arms.

“... Thanks, Grass,” she whispered, words muffled by the sunshiny yellows of his favorite sweater.

“Don't mention it, ‘Ni! I’m just glad you're okay…”

A comfortable silence fell between them, as familiar as the exhausted embrace they shared under the flickering lights of the Krook House bathroom.

“... You’re still gonna need that tetanus shot though.”

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #anni aughta #the krook house #krook house crew #FCG & Anni #FCG & Anni Aughta #modern human au #Day 11 - Scratch #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 5 - Balance

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FCG/Chetney

“How?” Fresh Cut Grass had asked one night. “How do you do it?”

Chetney paused in his work, keen eyes drifting from the half carved deer he’d been whittling his way through and over to the nervously rocking form of Fresh Cut Grass.

“Do what?” He gruffly asked, before thrusting his work in progress forward. You mean my master crafts work? Yeeeears of work, baby! And a certain talent that most feckless ametuers don’t possess!”

“Oh no! Not that!” Fresh Cut Grass shook their head, previously clasped hands now waving wildly between the two of them. “I meant… um, between the wolf and the man. How do you… balance that? How do ya make sure the beast doesn't take over entirely? That you don't lose yourself to the monster?”

The last past was whispered with such earnest vulnerability that it stopped Chetney’s retort right in its tracks. It was tempting to just give the same old sphill, to insist that he had nothing to fear, that Chetney fully loved the beast that lay within. That he never once feared losing control, losing… himself.

That it was easy and simple, entirely effortless really!

Yes, to say that would be easy.

Simple.

Effortless.

Calloused old hands carefully laid down his chisel and the half carved deer, before motioning for Fresh Cut Grass to get closer, to settle beside him. It took a moment, and a grouchy furrowing of his brow, but gradually the aeormaton moved, settling down beside the crotchety old gnome.

“Shit ain’t easy,” Chetney muttered, breaking what had been stretching into a minute long silence. “The beast hungers, desires. You let that fucker win and BAM, you’re fucked!”

There was a creaking of metal, and from the corner of his eye he watched as metallic fingers gathered up fistfuls of deep blue fabric, their grip like death upon their fancy, now heavily creased, jacket.

“I don't mean to be rude, Chet. But I- I know that. That's not what I…”

Fuck. How did the little bot manage to make him feel like such an ass. It was supposed to be his gods given right as a grumpy old fuck! Yet here it was, the guilt, slowly seeping its way into his tired old bones.

“You’re wanting answers I ain’t got, Letters. It's aaaaall instinct for me. Instinct and wishing like hell that shit won’t go to fuck! And shit will always go to fuck, ‘cause that’s life! You think you’ve got and then Lady Luck’s sinking her teeth into your ass and tearin’ into you!”

That didn't feel like enough though.

There was a cruelness to that answer. An admission to the harshness of this world that didn't leave much room for hope. And fuck if didn't know anyone else who ran on hope and positivity quite like Fresh Cut Grass.

So, with cheeks dusted a slowly growing red (so thankfully hidden by the night’s dark embrace), Chetney reached over, worming his way between coat and metal to take hold of his beloved's anxiously curling hand.

“...You know as well as I do that that shit’s mad hard, that the beast is always gonna be there, screaming and howling. And when that fucker tries to sink it’s teeth into you, to take more than you’ve said that bastard can have, then I’ll be right here to kick that tin can you call an ass to bash that fucker right back into his cage!”

Chetney grinned, wide and wild, and yet there was an unmistakable warmth to it.

A sweet nuzzling muzzle that encapsulated gnashing fangs. The same face that peppered cackling kisses and fuzzy, slobbering licks… was also capable of tearing through flesh, ripping through friend and foe alike, if the beast were ever allowed to slip free of its collar.

And it would always be that way.

A dangerous balancing act, of beast and man.

Of monsters and people.

Yet tonight, under the campfire’s flickering light, there wasn't a beast in sight. Instead they only stood two people, hand in hand as they turned to face one another, gilded metal seams meeting cracked, wrinkled lips.

“I… I think, maybe, that’s all the answer I need right now,” Fresh Cut Grass whispered, letting their head drop forward and delighting in how their foreheads met. In turn, Chetney rolled his eyes, feigning his annoyance at such mushy softness, and yet making not a single effort to move away.

“Thank ya kindly, dear…”

“Always a sapfest with ya! Shoulda been made from maple with the amount that you spout on the daily!”

“I love ya too, Chetney~”

He could only grin further at that, roughly nuzzling their faces together with a rough bark of a laugh. A declaration far more powerful than any word that Chetney could ever utter.

And tonight, that was more than enough.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #chetney pock o'pea #FCG/Chetney #FCG x Chetney #bells hells #IronBark #freshney #Day 5 - Balance #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 8 - Ignorance

(Oops! Life got a taaaaaad busy there! Between having to finish a heck ton of designs and products for a market, several days of travel, restless sleep and a birthday, there wasn't really any time to write! I'm gonna do my best to get back on track now though~)

----------------------------

QueerPlatonic PolyQuad Krook House Crew - ModernHuman AU

“Get FUCKED, scum twatter!”

With a satisfied smirk, Anni watched the scowling little old lady turn with a huff, more than glad to see the back of the nasty ass hag.

“That was a little harsh, don't you think?”

“Letters, you know I love your sunshiny ass, but shut the fuck up.”

Fresh Cut Grass gave a slight huff, staring up at their beloved crusty punk of a partner, watching as she flipped off a gruff looking middle aged man, her glare almost daring him to come say something. And perhaps he would have, if it weren't for Ashton right behind her, cracking his knuckles something fierce, managing to look threatening even with Milo curled up in their lap, nose deep in a textbook thicker than their thighs.

“I just don't- I’m not saying that-” they tried, starting and stopping, failing to get his words out just right. “I know she was- That people tend to be a tad…”

“Ignorant?” Milo interjected with, not even looking up as they let the page flutter over to the next.

“Shitty?” Ashton added, reaching over to thread their fingers through Fresh Cut Grass’ bouncy locks, scratching at their scalp in a way that always had him melting in seconds.

“Deserving of a swift kick to the shins?” Anni finished with little flourish of her combat boots, skidding a foot across the grass before settling back into place, leaning heavily into Fresh Cut Grass’ side.

“Rude! I was gonna say rude!” They cried out, a familiar exasperation dripping from each and every word. Yet there was no bite to it, no true annoyance to be heard, this old song and dance so deeply familiar to them all.

After all, no one really understood them.

Too close to be friends.

But distinctly lacking in romance and lust.

And yet, the love they all shared was undeniable.

No others were allowed to touch Ashton in such a way, their flesh only connecting with most through flurries of blows. Only their crew was allowed the privilege of gentleness, of warm, heavy embraces and ever so gentle hands, as large and powerful as they were, tenderly holding, patting and stroking.

Only they were worth that pain.

Who else could draw Milo from the safety and comfort of their own home? The outside world was so bright and noisy, full of people who always threw funny looks their way. Away from their beloved projects and personal coffee blend that only Ashton, Anni and Letters knew how to make juuust right.

Yet here they were, outside on a sunny day, in the middle of a public park.

Only they were worth the mental energy.

Anni notoriously got along with just about nobody. People were a pain in the ass. They didn't like her crass sense of humor. They only ever tended to like her when she was performing. But her music, her art, was deeply personal to her, and outside of actual gigs, no one got to hear her play.

Nor did they get to see beneath the brashness. The loyal heart that lay beneath.

Only they were worth trying for.

Fresh Cut Grass loved hugs and going out and meeting all kinds of people! By all means they should have been surrounded by a plethora of love!

But they had been burned before, both metaphorically and, well, physically. He had felt loss. Felt abandonment. Felt lost and alone and so so afraid.

It had been Ashton and Anni and Milo who had put him together again, who never gave up on them, who fought against a world so big and cruel, just to keep them safe.

Just to see Fresh Cut Grass smile again.

Only they were worth that fractured trust.

“Rude is fair too,” Milo agreed, finally setting their book down to peer over at their partner, throwing them an understanding smile. “Honestly, all those answers were. People are assholes when they don't understand something. I think we all know that pretty well. I for one, can't really complain about ignorant bastards getting what’s coming for them. Anni and Ashton need some kind of healthy outlet for all that pent up rage.”

“You saying I can punch a mother fucker?”

“Not unless you have bail money ready. I am not spending my afternoon trying to get your ass out of an arrest AGAIN, Anni.”

“Booooo, you whore!”

“Can't get arrested if you punch them hard enough that the fucker can't even remember their own name.”

“Ashton! You promised, no more fights this week!

“Ain’t a fight if they never punch back,” Ashton retorted with a shit eating grin. Fresh Cut Grass crossed their arms in turn, before playfully flicking the very tip of his nose.

“You know what I was meanin’! Only necessary violence allowed, like self defense or wrestlin’ street alligators!”

“... Do I even want to ask where that shit came from?”

“Street alligators? Oh! Well I was watchin’ YouTube late last night…”

“Late night conspiracy vids. Got it.”

Under the shade of an old oak tree, upon a fluffy old blanket, they four of them continued on, voices overlapping, intermingling as their bodies did aa well. Their touches casual, yet still intimate. Lingering without complaint, with familiar comfort.

Like this was all they ever needed.

Like, together, they were home.

And that was something worth the scorn, the cruel whispers and willful ignorance.

After all, nothing else quite mattered outside of them.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #ashton greymoore #milo krook #anni aughta #krook house #krook house crew #FCG/Ashton/Anni/Milo #FCG & Ashton & Anni & Milo #QueerPlatonic PolyQuad Krook House #bells hells #modern human au #Day 8 - Ignorance #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 4 - Cemetery

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FCG/Laudna - ModernHuman AU

“And… there! Like that, Laudna?”

Fresh Cut Grass grinned, shuffling back just a bit on their butt, letting Laudna fully see the spread laid out before them. Little cakes and pastries, muffins and danishes, all laid out on brightly coloured plates, decorated with spiders and ghosts and other spooky little flourishes. All sat neatly upon a soft, red and gold blanket, fluffy to the touch and a warm respite from the cool stone below it. With a hot thermos of freshly brewed tea and some delightfully antique tea cups, their picnic was perfectly complete.

All he needed now was Laudna’s approval!

And boy did he ever get it, as the pale woman squealed in delight, dark eyes sparkling like the stars above them, made even more beautiful by the soft candle light that surrounded them, flickering from their homes upon the many graves that surrounded them.

“It's perfect!" She cried out, dropping to her knees to pull Fresh Cut Grass in a spindly embrace. They could only laugh warmly in turn, slipping their arms around her lanky form and sharing their warmth with her. Laudna never had been one to handle the cold well…

“It is? I’m real glad t’ hear that!” Fresh Cut Grass let out a sigh of relief, as they felt Launda ever so slowly curl herself further around him, much like a cat circling and needing a couch before getting settled in just right. “I wanted to make a good impression for your folks! Do you think they like it?”

There was a beat of quiet, as Laudna ever so softly hummed, peering over her date-mate’s shoulder at her parents’ grave. Once upon a time, coming here had brought her nothing but grief, reminding her of everything that had been, of just what had been ripped from her grasp with such cold, ruthless cruelty.

That was then though.

Now? Now this was a place of memory, of whispered midnight conversations and excited titterings about her wonderful friends, so filled with warmth and love and everything Laudna had been deprived of since their passing.

Friends who felt like family, who made sure she never had to face another sad day alone. Who appreciated her energy, her endless enthusiasm for the dark and macabre, who saw her as spooky, and fun scary!

And among all those, Fresh Cut Grass was the one who had set her dead heart alight. Her parents would have been thrilled, she thought, to have her finally find the love she’d gushed over in stories in her, admitted lonely, childhood.

“I think they love it~” Laudna affirmed, darkly painted lips pulled into a wide, almost eerie smile. Yet they saw beyond it, past the spooky veneer and to the heart of it all. There was a warmth to her smile, an endless fountain of love that left Fresh Cut Grass’ heart ablaze, glowing with an adoration that couldn't be contained, that spilled over into a sweet, tender kiss.

One Laudna happily returned.

“Then I agree with ya! It's perfect.”

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #Laudna #FCG/Laudna #FCG x Laudna #bells hells #Puppet Pals #modern human au #Day 4 - Cemetery #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2023

Day 1 - Pastel

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FCG/Fearne

Deft fingers, long and well practiced, traced their way down the silken ribbon, all a titter with delight at the smooth, cool texture. It was certainly pretty, a soft pastel blue, reminding her of a cloudless sky. Of sunlight and laughter, of chipper greetings and an ever smiley day.

Well… that just sealed the deal, didn't it?

A mischievous grin tugged at Fearne’s lips as, with well practiced ease, she slid the roll of shimmering silk into the ruffles of her dress. She felt Orym’s eyes upon her, the only witness to her otherwise perfect crime. Yet all it took was a pout and a pleading glance for him to sigh and drop his gaze with a fond, if exasperated little smile.

Always such the sweetheart~

There was a spring in her step as Bells Hells wandered from the glimmering lights of the night market, the many stalls and jovial chatter fading away as they made their way towards the nearest inn.

Fearne herself lingered near the back, a spring to her step and pleased hum upon her breath. So caught in her own joy from today’s little treasure hoard, she didn't notice the presence siding up beside her, nor did she hear their voice until a gentle, cool hand was upon hers, startling her back into reality.

“Oh! I’m real sorry there, Fearne! I didn't mean to spook ya or anything!” Fresh Cut Grass said, voice tinged with a hint of regret as they dropped their glowing gaze. “You just seemed real happy there, and I wanted to know why. Did ya swipe something pretty at the market?”

“No sorries~” Fearne gently admonished, feeling her heart settle at her friend's ever soothing presence. He was like a little ray of sunshine and mysteries, of nurturing and murder. How could she not feel right at home beside him?

“And you know I did~” She continued, coming to a stop beside him and dropping to a full sit, causing Fresh Cut Grass to pause in confusion. Yet before they could utter a single word, Fearne was pulling out trinket after trinket, carefully laying them out on the grass between them and excitedly showing them off.

“This one just sparkled so lovely in the moonlight, so I just had to have it~ And then this one has little crow’s feet, so obviously I had to take it. And then there's this one…”

One after another she went, as alight in her excitement as the flaming monkey that she oh so adored. Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but be endeared, their core gently buzzing in sweet, tender affection as they nodded along, chipping in with the occasional clap or word when they felt it was appropriate.

“... Oh! Wait, I almost forgot!”

Fearne dropped the tiny porcelain bear she’d just been gushing about, letting it fall to the grass with reckless abandon. Fresh Cut Grass couldn't help but tilt his head, confusion bubbling to the surface as he watched his beloved friend dig around in her many ruffles and layers, only to find that confusion growing ever stronger as she pulled free, with great triumph, a roll of ribbon.

“It's real… shiny?”

“It is, isn't it~? It's shiny and blue and glows under the moonlight~ Just like those pretty lenses of yours, FCG~”

O-Oh. Now wasn't that a surprise! Was Fearne… flirting with them? They’d witnessed Fearne flirting with a great many people, all vastly different in looks and personalities. She didn't seem to have any one type she favoured, and well, maybe it shouldn't have been so surprising. Had the circumstances been different they were sure that Fearne would have been flirting with FRIDA like crazy!

But themself?

No no! Surely it was just a compliment! Yeah!

Fresh Cut Grass did their best to not get their hopes up, to let those slowly bubbling feelings of theirs not get in the way of a friendship that they honestly treasured so deeply.

“That's such a nice thing for ya to say, Fearne! Thank ya kindly. You’ve got some real pretty eyes yourself!”

“I do, don't I~?” She agreed, fluttering those gorgeous soft greens, as though to prove a point. Not that she needed to. Fresh Cut Grass was already well aware of how lovely they were.

“These pretty eyes of mine spotted this ribbon and thought, oh, isn't it just darling? And then I thought of you and well, I couldn't just leave it there, could I~? It was meant to be! Such a gorgeous little treasure…”

There was a tilting of their head, a spark of curiosity twinkling from within their lenses, as Fearne pushed all her other treasures to the side, letting her scoot closer and closer to Fresh Cut Grass, until her chest sat flush to his, her breath mixing with the low thrumming of their arcane core. Oh how happy he was in that moment, to be a creature with no lungs of his own, for he was sure that if he did, they'd be absent of air, their very breath stolen by the mischievous faun who’s warmth they shared right now.

“I- I- Um… Fearne?” Fresh Cut Grass stammered out, as Fearne reached around them, seemingly unbothered by the lack of space between them at all. If anything she seemed pleased, humming to herself as she fiddled with something, fingers brushing against his wires in a way that left them almost shuddering in delight.

“Juuuuust a moment~” Fearne retorted, her voice like a sweetly ringing melody against their head. “I’m almost… There~! Perfect!”

And just like that, she was back to where she’d sat, smiling so bright, it would put the sun itself to shame. Yet she didn't seem content just yet, digging around in her skirts once more until she pulled out an ornately decorated little mirror, which she held up for Fresh Cut Grass.

Curious, he reached out, fingertips stopping just shy of the reflective surface as they caught sight of it… The pastel blue ribbon, tied sweetly around their wires in a perfectly tied bow.

“Oh…” They uttered, their voice a perfect approximation of a quivering breath.

“A pretty ribbon for my favorite pretty person~” Fearne whispered with a wink, right as she leant in and pressed the sweetest of kisses to the seam of their mouth plate. “Do you like it~?”

Fresh Cut Grass had never said yes so fast.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #fearne #cr fcg #Fearne/FCG #fearne calloway #Bells Hells #Gilded Petals #Day 1 - Pastel #Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 9 - Lie

(Still behind, v much sooo. But I'm writing and that counts for something!)

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Chetney & Fresh Cut Grass

Rare was a day when any of the Hells seriously fought with one another. Despite the powder kegs they all arguably were, inter party conflict was something they tended to avoid. So to have his otherwise calm evening broken by the sounds of barked out shouts and doors slamming… well, Chetney couldn't help his curiosity.

Not that he’d needed to go far, apparently. Just three steps in, Fresh Cut Grass came whirling around the corner, knocking right into the elderly gnome and sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Fuck!” Chetney cried out, scowling as head collided violently with the floor. “What where you’re goin-”

Oh. Well snap, shit was seriously fucked, wasn't it? Fresh Cut Grass wasn't even moving, not a word of frantic apology or anything. The gilded bot just lay there, almost concerningly so. With a hissed grunt Chetney pulled himself up, shuffling over to his friend’s side and offering their face plate a half hearted poke.

“You alive there, Letters?”

No response.

Weird. It wasn't like them to leave others in the lurch, to leave a chance for concern or worry. Not that Chetney was either of those! Not yet, at least. Nah, not while those peepers of theirs were still shining a bright, sunny blue.

So, with a slight shrug, he stepped to the side, sliding down the nearest wall and letting himself come to rest beside Fresh Cut Grass’ unresponsive form. Calloused old fingers dipped into his work belt, pulling free his favorite chisel and a nice bit of cherry oak.

“Heard some shoutin’ and shit earlier,” Chetney absentmindedly commented, after a minute's silence. “Are you and Ashton beefing? ‘Cause that was one heck of a door slam! I could feel the timber creaking, weeping for my tender embrace!”

Finally, movement! Fresh Cut Grass seemed to… pull into themself, head rolling to the side, his already unreadable face disappearing out of sight.

“Takin’ that shit as a yes,” he continued, pausing mid carve to playfully bap the morose aeormaton with the butt of his knife. “Sulking won't make him less pissy at you, Letters. You get up off your ass! Do something! You can't just lie there, sulking like a piece of rotting birch! Your chassis might be made of disgusting metal, but inside you've got the heart of a mighty oak! So get up and fuckin’ fix shit!”

There was a beat of silence, a moment of nothing where Chetney almost felt that his speech had failed. His wonderfully impassioned speech, if you were to ask him.

And then, at least, a reply.

“I… I can’t get up.”

Oh.

Laughter, rough and wheezing, as Chetney grabbed Fresh Cut Grass by the arm and yanked him back up onto his wheel, bringing tears of mirthful joy to his wrinkle lined eyes.

“Did you seriously waste all that time lying there ‘cause you couldn't get up?!”

“Hey! Don't laugh at me, Chet!”

Chetney only laughed harder, before slapping his metallic bud upside the head. He grinned as Fresh Cut Grass yelped, rubbing the back of his head with an indignant little huff.

“What was that for!”

“For wasting time that could have been spent fixin’ shit. Why aren't you chasin’ his hot headed ass down and smoothing shit over?”

“I…” Fresh Cut Grass faltered, hands wringing nervously before him. “Ashton- We had a real big fight. I don't- What if he doesn't wanna see me, Chet?”

At that, Chetney could only scoff.

“Bitch has a soft spot for you bigger than the mother fuckin’ moon! You’re seriously worried he's done with ya?”

“... Maybe? … Do you really think he’s-”

“GO."

There was a growl to his voice, deep and wolven, that had Fresh Cut Grass jolting and instinctively nodding.

“I- Alright! I’ll give it a try! Thanks, Chetney!”

With that, they were rolling away, leaving just Chetney alone once more to watch him retreating. There was a smile upon his lips, rare in its softness and warmth as he let his gaze drop back down to his carving, the angular form of Fresh Cut Grass ever so slowly coming to life in the groves and nics of the wood.

“Aaah, to be young at heart again…”

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #chetney #chetney pock o'pea #fcg & chetney #bells hells #Iron Bark #Freshney #Day 9 - Lie #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 6 - Sanctuary

(Fell a lil' behind there, oops!!!)

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FCG/Imogen - ModernHuman AU

It was strange how great a difference two doors, a janky box of a lift and a little fresh air could make. Away from the hustle and bustle of the nightclub below, Imogen felt free to just be. And she wasn't the only one who seemed to feel that way, judging by the sigh of relief dropped by her sweetheart beside her.

“Glad to be free of the storm too, darlin’?” Imogen playfully asked, dropping down into one of the waterproof beanbags that the owner of Spire By Fire so graciously provided for their less than… wild patrons.

And by wild she meant the kind of people that enjoyed getting shit faced, surrounded by like, one hundred other drunk idiots, with music blaring so loud she could feel it in her teeth, as one stumbled around, blinded by the colorful, flashing lights.

If Fearne and Ashton hadn't insisted upon a ‘double date’, then neither of them would even be here. Clubs had never really been their thing.

“I’m still not sure I really get the appeal of it,” Fresh Cut Grass retorted, wheeling over to join Imogen with a soft little chuckle. Wordlessly he extended a hand, which she took in a heartbeat, steadily helping them to their feet before helping her date-mate to settle down on the beanbag beside her. “It's a whole lotta noise and strangers gettin’ too close without sayin’ so much as hi! And I’m sayin’ this as a people person.”

“I think it takes a particular kind of people person, or just person in particular to enjoy this kinda scene. You know, the kind that enjoys… grindin’ on strangers who smell like cheap whiskey. And not havin’ workin’ eardrums the next morning.”

Fresh Cut Grass hummed, shuffling just a tad before Imogen felt the familiar weight of his head resting upon her shoulder, drawing a tender smile to tug at her otherwise tired lips.

“You know, I think I’d like comin’ back here!” Fresh Cut Grass chirped, feeling Imogen's surprised scoff as she slipped an arm around his waist, fingertips tracing languid swirls as her hand came to rest upon their hip.

“You gotta be shittin’ me, Letters. You looked about ready to snap down there! Not that I’m blamin’ ya, I was damn well ready to start throwing fists after the third guy ’accidentally’ bumped into me.”

“Oh. No. Not down there! That’s a sensory and navigation nightmare!” They quickly assured her, hands waving nervously for just a moment. “I mean… up here. It's real nice. The moon’s out, we can barely hear a peep outta all the noise downstairs, and… it’s just the two of us. It's kinda like we got our own private sanctuary!”

The fairy lights that decorated the railings and trimmings all about this rooftop hideaway twinkled sweetly around them, reminding Imogen of the stars of her hometown. The big city was awful for stargazing, something she had whined about countless times to Laudna.

Right now though, light polluted sky hardly phased her, drowned out potted shrubbery and little trees, by the rainbow of blossoms and blooms that surrounded them, all only made that much prettier by the way they reflected in Fresh Cut Grass’ bespectacled baby blues.

The world had always looked so much prettier, shimmering back at her through his ever sparkling eyes.

“A sanctuary, just for you and me,” Imogen whispered, low and sweet. “I like the sound of that. Our own lil’ slice of heaven.”

A tender hand cradled Fresh Cut Grass’ cheek, and Imogen’s heart went absolutely aflutter as she felt them lean into it… and then began to race as he shyly turned to lay a press a fleeting kiss upon her palm.

“Bein’ with you always kinda feels like this…” Came his own whispered reply, an admission just dripping an adoration that left Imogen’s face hotter than the fenced off little firepit that flickered just a few feet before them.

“I guess… bein’ with you is kinda like a sanctuary all of its own!” Fresh Cut Grass finished with a warm, easy laugh, before dipping in and dropping a kiss right to the tip of their girlfriend’s burning nose.

A kiss that she swiftly stole, her lips upon theirs in an adoring mess of a sudden kiss.

Not that Fresh Cut Grass minded.

No, they didn't mind this at all.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #cr fcg #imogen temult #FCG/Imogen #FCG x Imogen #bells hells #Southern Comfort #Mind Meld #modern human au #Day 6 - Sanctuary #dungeons & drabbles 2023

[radamazard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

Day 5 - Fabricate

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FCG Centric Hurt / Comfort

Fabricate.

To invent something in order to deceive.

Wasn't that what they were? A fabrication of a being, an automaton made to deceive others into thinking he was kind and gentle, a helper. Only to then turn around and brutally bring about their deaths. The definition fit, the word itself clinging to his body like the sunshiney paint that adorned him.

FCG ran a hand down his face, metallic fingers sliding past bits of chipped paint and scratches. Was this a product of time, or damage from slaughters long forgotten? Had those he’d killed in the past tried to fight back? Had some gotten away, like Dancer had? Maybe many had survived, like Bells Hells, rightfully beating them down and knocking him out…

It wasn't like they could even find out though.

Those memories were gone, along with the person he'd once been.

… Well, except that wasn’t fully true, was it? When Imogen had lost control against Otohan, he'd seen things. Seen the celebrations. The frightening man. The kind woman.

Flashes of a life so long ago, now forgotten.

Were those memories though?

What if they had been a fabrication as well?

Anxiously FCG tapped their fingers against their chest plate, against the blades of grass.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Ta-

A hand over theirs, large and calloused. Jade.

Ashton.

Blue met purple, a raised brow silently asked ‘You good?’

They went to nod, to simply brush it all off, but found themself unable to. Because… would that not also be a lie, a fabrication to keep Ashton from worrying?

Instead their head shook, a slow, almost meek motion.

An arm was dropped over their shoulders, and swiftly they felt themself being tugged into Ashton’s side. Who were they to fight this rare show of affection?

FCG leant into them, careful to try and not cause Ashton any undue pain.

“... Thank you,” they whispered, and something inside their body seemed to spark in an almost fluttering way when their friend flashed a quick smile their way.

“Always here for ya, bud. So don't mention it.”

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #FCG #Ashton #ashton greymoore #FCG & Ashton #hurt/comfort fic #*slaps FCG* this robit can fit so. much angst in them! #Rock & Roll #day 5 - fabricate #Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022 Master Post

With the month done and dusted, I am done with DrabbleWRIMO for 2022~

Here’s a master post with all 30 ficlets, for ease of finding and reading (or you could read it all on my AO3 - here) 

Day 1 - Abolish (Bells Hells Modern AU)

Day 2 - Tempt (Fearne x Fresh Cut Grass)

Day 3 - Slime (Laudna & Fresh Cut Grass)

Day 4 - Monopoly (Bells Hells / Crown Keepers Modern Human AU)

Day 5 - Fabricate (Fresh Cut Grass - Hurt/Comfort)

Day 6 - Entropy (Krook House Queer Platonic Polycule - Modern Human AU)

Day 7 - Field (One sided Fresh Cut Grass x Imogen + FCG Angst)

Day 8 - Truculent (Ashton x Fresh Cut Grass)

Day 9 - Radical (Fresh Cut Grass Thought Piece)

Day 10 - Pride (Krook House Queer Platonic Polycule - Modern Human AU)

Day 11 - Bounty (Fresh Cut Grass & Chetney)

Day 12 - Marigold (Orym x Fresh Cut Grass)

Day 13 - Reckless (Fresh Cut Grass x Chetney)

Day 14 - Conceive (Fresh Cut Grass & Imogen)

Day 15 - Fetching (Fresh Cut Grass x Imogen)

Day 16 - Unreliable (Fresh Cut Grass Angst)

Day 17 - Weakness (Fresh Cut Grass & Laudna)

Day 18 - Lucent (Fresh Cut Grass x Laudna)

Day 19 - Indifference (Fresh Cut Grass & Marwa)

Day 20 - Blast (Fresh Cut Grass - and a blown up, but still alive, Bells Hells)

Day 21 - Captain (Fresh Cut Grass & Captain Xandis)

Day 22 - Feign (Fresh Cut Grass & Anni (Krook House Queer Platonic Polycule - Modern Human AU)

Day 23 - Ether (Fresh Cut Grass & Milo (Krook House Queer Platonic Polycule - Modern Human AU)

Day 24 - Mellifluous (Fresh Cut Grass x Anni Aughta (Modern Human AU)

Day 25 - Square (Fresh Cut Grass x Imahara Joe)

Day 26 - Impulse (Ashton & Fresh Cut Grass (Modern Human AU)

Day 27 - Mold (Fresh Cut Grass x Imahara Joe (Modern Human AU)

Day 28 - Vanilla (Fresh Cut Grass x Marwa (Modern Human AU)

Day 29 - Burial (Fresh Cut Grass & Ashton - The Scene Where They Meet)

Day 30 - Acorn (Fresh Cut Grass & Fearne)

#dungeons & drabbles #drabbleWRIMO #Critical Role #FCG #CR FCG #Fresh Cut Grass #Masterlist #Dungeons & Drabbles 2022