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cullendrawss · 2 days
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🔴 Ruidus
tumblr gets it first, i can't let insta have two posts in a row it'll get greedy
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lizablee · 2 days
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Done Enough (Critical Role Fanfic) Chapter 2
For the first time in a long time, Ashton wished his weapon had a blade.
The fleeting satisfaction of reducing branches to splinters had worn thin, leaving behind only the sturdiest trunks and the most resilient saplings that bounced off his hammer as if mocking his fury. His rage boiled beneath the surface.
With a shout filled with desperation and anger, he leveraged his full strength against a nearby tree. The tree shuddered under the impact but stood firm, immovable and indifferent. Ashton’s shoulders heaved, sweat trickling down his stony exterior,
“That’s an ironwood. Your hammer’s as good as useless.”
Chetney's voice cut through the tension, oddly calm amid the destruction. He stood a few feet away, idly whittling away at one of the half-pulped branches Ashton had discarded.
Ashton panted, his breaths coming in heavy, labored gasps. “Can’t sleep?” he managed to say between breaths.
“Not when there’s so much good wood being wasted. It was calling to me,” Chetney said wistfully. The branch in his hand was starting to vaguely humanoid. “And you’re loud as hell. I’m surprised half the camp isn’t awake.”
Ashton didn’t have it in him to feel regret. Chetney continued.
“I wonder what FCG would say if they were here,” he remarked.
“They chose to kill themself. They don’t get a say in how we grieve.”  Ashton replied sharply.
“That’s not fair, Ashton.” Chetney said coldly. “They saved our lives.” Ashton tasted a pinch of shame, and tried to wash it down with anger.
Chetney sighed deeply and took a seat among the roots of the ironwood, his whittling becoming almost unnaturally quick. “You get to be angry, that’s fine. But don’t poison their memory. The rest of us have to grieve too.”
Ashton’s knees felt weak. He sat down, resting his hammer over his lap, and breathed deeply.
“If FCG were here,” he said tiredly, “they’d say something about us all coming together and supporting each other as a team. And they’d probably say they were happy. I bet they were happy, at the end. They got to do what they’ve always wanted to do.”
Chetney tutted. “Very edgy, Ashton. You act like they did this to you and not for you. Listen, I’m made of stronger stuff than the others, and even I’m feeling a bit fucked up by this. So I get it. But keep that bitterness between us, okay? Or between you and the hardwood.” he added, patting the scarred trunk of the tree. “The others aren’t doing very well. We need to keep an eye on Orym. He’s getting pretty dark.”
Ashton leveled a long look at Chetney. The gnome looked weary but resolute. “How are you doing?” Ashton asked gruffly.
Chetney smiled wryly. “I feel old. And I don’t normally feel old. It’s just... it’s tough when someone so young loses their life. Imagine how long FCG could have gone on for. They might have been practically immortal with that body, we don’t know. They could have outlived all of us.”
“They were hundreds of years old.”
“Maybe in body. But they’d been alive, what, like three years?”
“Give or take.”
“Three years old... That’s truly tragic. They never even got to have a childhood.” For a moment, Chetney had a hollow look that made him seem every bit as old as he claimed to be.
“They made me this horrible toolbox when they tried to—” Chetney made a sawblade motion, “—carve me up that first time. The craftsmanship was just appalling. You know what that looked like to me?”
“A waste of wood?”
“No. Potential . Nowhere to go but up.” Chetney looked up to the stars, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and sorrow. “They had only just figured out they could live, hadn’t even worked out what that meant yet. It just sucks.”
Ashton let the words wash over him and sank a little deeper into himself.
“Try not to think about it.” A soft voice sounded from the treeline. Orym dropped down, quiet as a shadow, wandering into the newly made clearing. “Their potential… what they could have been. It’ll drive you crazy.”
Chetney sighed deeply and returned to his whittling. Ashton turned to see Orym, who looked smaller than usual, haunted. His eyes were red, his cheeks puffy, and it was almost too raw for Ashton to bear; he suddenly felt like he was intruding just by being there. If FCG were here, he’d offer a hug.
“Are you okay?” he said, as gently as he could. Orym scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Right now, no. Eventually, yes…” Orym’s voice trembled. “But it doesn’t feel like it yet.” He took a shaky breath. “I know how this goes. So I just need to remember that it won’t feel like this forever. It’s hard to imagine... It’s just hard to... It’s hard.”
Ashton felt tears welling for the second time that evening. He scrambled mentally for that anger, that blessed distracting rage that could hold them at bay. Something else came to mind, unbidden, and he latched onto it. He moved towards Orym and pulled the halfling into a gentle hug.
Pain rippled through his form as Orym hugged back, sobbing. The hug was nice; the pain was grounding. Everything else dimmed a little for a moment. He could see FCG behind his closed eyelids, and for the first time that evening, he felt that the little Aeormaton would be proud of him in this moment.
Orym released Ashton earlier than he expected, probably not wanting to cause more pain. The absence of that sensation felt almost lonely. Orym sniffed and rubbed his eyes.
“You need to sleep.” Chetney remarked gently. “You both need to sleep. I’ll take watch.”
Orym stilled, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Back to back?” he stammered suddenly. Ashton stared at him blankly. “Sorry, it’s just something I saw—something Dorian—listen, do you want to sleep back to back? I think I’ll just sleep better if I’m not alone. It might help you, too?”
“Back to back,” Ashton echoed tentatively. “Yeah, I can do that. Just not too close.”
“Got it,” Orym said gratefully. He moved to pack up his bedroll.
“Enjoy your sleepover,” Chetney remarked offhandedly, returning to his whittling. He was gently carving a pair of mismatched lenses onto a tiny smooth face. Ashton let his eyes linger on the carving a moment longer before following Orym to camp.
It turned out going back to back did make it easier to sleep. And to Ashton’s great relief, he didn’t dream.
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calenthee · 14 days
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all together! so fun seeing them as a set
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petyritonel · 2 months
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just a little guy 🦄
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maudlinjane · 5 months
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spoilers for C3E80
you know that meme
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ilargilore · 4 months
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Our little blorbos (Dorian please come back)
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shititsarobyn · 3 months
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POV: they’re healing their inner children by having a tea party ft Ashton coming in with the fire element shard thingy
From this screenshot
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(Unblurred Ashton version)
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maesquirrel · 1 month
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Little Moon got himself a moon sword 🌙🗡️
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cybersevenn · 8 months
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Bells Hells text posts bc i don't wanna do my homework
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twinklestarss · 2 months
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Campaign 3 Episode 86: Doorways to Darker Depths
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danwhobrowses · 2 months
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You know, between the halfling nature, the overall trauma, and now a sword that detects specific kinds of creatures by glowing, Orym is slowly ticking off the Frodo Baggins checklist
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magsowo · 8 months
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Bells hells new outfits
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petyritonel · 7 months
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Savior Blade of the Tempest
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squillflower-art · 1 year
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(Not) morning people
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Orym doodle somehow escalated into this
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synecdoch · 2 months
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i need a hug so they get one
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soaring-trash · 16 days
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“Some connections are made with wires, and some are made with blood, and some are made with bone, and some are made with wood, but they all matter. And they, even in this dark dark cave… make every day a smiley day.”
I wept so hard, Sam is so good at making blazes of glory it should be illegal how heart wrenching he makes them.
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