#ashton greymoore fanfiction

[kinkymjolnir]

friends, how do we feel about a fanfiction with the "im lying through my teeth to hurt you right now because i need you to be as far away from me as possible or i will end up getting you hurt and i just can't take that" trope? this is about callowmoore btw. i might be in my phone notes rn writing something

[talesandfluff]

As the housewarming party for Imogen and Laudna's new cottage dwindles down, Ashton and Fearne find somewhere quiet to spend quality time together. Out by the fire, who knows what to make of the rest of the night? Sparks could be flying.

Modern AU little fluffy smut piece.

[mommymilkersmac-n-cheese]

Can’t wait for the fics about the group actually noticing Ashton’s panic attack. Craving that sweet sweet Ashton angst hurt/comfort chronic pain oml.

[crescent-moon-mollymauk]

Had to return to the fanfic mines because I couldn't stop thinking about how ridiculous the (hopefully) upcoming conversation between Braius and Ashton about Callowmoore's relationship status will be. So here, have a hastily written fic.

[railroad-migraine]

Hey Poet ♥️ I had to put my bird and companion of 12 years to sleep earlier today... I was hoping it would be okay to request Molly, Kingsley, Ashton and Caduceus comforting a Ranger SO (friend in Cad’s case) who had their beast companion pass away? I hope it’s not too grim of a prompt, thanks a lot either way! And thank you for what you do, your lovely writing brings joy to many people :)

Oh darling I'm so sorry. We also recently had a family pet put to sleep and it is very hard, but know that you provided your lil friend a wonderful life and that's something to make it easier as time passes 🩶

Comforting Ranger!GN!Reader

Ashton 💚

Is the shoulder to cry on that you've always needed. They're a strong presence, someone reliable to lean on, something physical and real to keep you grounded and help you not lose yourself in feelings.

They say they have difficulty with words, but Ashton surprises even himself with the soft tone and even softer things he offers you. Little phrases of encouragement, of how things will get better, and how you're not going to carry this alone. You have him and friends who care about you - he ignores the hot feeling in his face when your teary eyes meet his upon the confession - and pulls you into their side with a soft "I got you."

-

Caduceus 💜

Arguably the best person on the list to console you after losing someone you held dear. If it's something you'd like, he'll organise a little ceremony - allow memories of the good and fun moments shared with your companion to take centre stage. It's a happy occasion, with friends in attendance, a celebration of their life, their love, and how they made a home in your heart.

Cad takes time out of his day to sit with you, share tea and treats and the quiet tranquility of his porch, content to give you silent support but even more eager to offer counsel if that's what you seek. He understands how you're feeling, and guides you through them with careful, attentive ease.

-

Molly 💜

He knows what it's like to mourn a life, be that of a friend's or the past that he will never truly know. He makes sure that as you're processing this change in your life, that you continue to look after yourself. He ensures that you eat, even if you don't feel hungry. He washes your hair and cleans your face, helps you change into fresh clothes, coaxes you outdoors to feel warm sunlight on your skin. He wants to remind you to keep living, to enjoy it just as your pet beast did.

Life moves on. It always will. Your animal came into your life unexpectedly, just as you came into Molly's life. He's there for you, to get you through the day, the week, the month, and beyond. It happens gradually, as all wounds heal, but eventually he sees you smile at him more and he knows it hurts a little less. He smiles back, all teeth and pride for you.

-

Kingsley 💜

He's still discovering the big emotions that come with experiencing life. Grief is one of them. He fumbles in the beginning, and is scared to say anything in the fear of hurting you further, but he feels more confident after you melt into his arms and let him hold you for who knows how long. He realises later that a distraction can help further along healing.

So that's what Kingsley does. He spends more time with you, takes you sailing and has you steer the ship (with his professional supervision of course). He drags you into dances along the deck and sings you songs before bed. He holds your hand as you fall asleep, and tells you how grateful he is that you're there with him. Thanks you for giving him that - just as you had given your familiar that.

[cassafrasscr]

Following the events of C3 E104 ('The Cradle's Convocation'), Orym and Dorian talk things out.

Ashton's also here, because that's the kind of fanfic writer I am.

Spoilers up to C3 E104. You've been warned.

[saphirered]

I saw your autumn/winter prompts

It’d be cool for you to do some fluff with Ashton for either cold nights or thunder and lightning

Love your stuff!!!

More prompt requests incoming! 😘

Miserable. This weather feels absolutely miserable. Ashton is uses to the rain and thunder but now it’s fucking cold. Freezing, frigid cold and fuck does it hurt. They can feel it in their bones, their entire body just hurts, more so than usual. The jungle is fine, perfect even. It’s like home. But they’re far from home. The heart in the jungle, lies far beyond sight and perhaps even mind. This fey bullshit is something else entirely and Ashton doesn’t quite like it. The weather seems to hate them especially. If there’s some asshole watching over them making this all happen, he’ll personally see to it that there’s a nice and comfy spot in the earth about six feet under. Fuck. 

All of those emotions disappear though. A burst of light illuminates the skies and with it your face. You look up at the sky and admire the tendrils flash before the disappear as quickly as they came. You’re a beautiful sight- It is a beautiful sight. Fuck. You’re beautiful. They’re in deep. Once upon a time Ashton thought this was fun while it lasted. A little teasing and flirting never hurt anybody but the line had blurred a long time ago. Ashton caught feelings and it’s very few times they’re unsure about anything. Your lips move but your voice is drowned out by the sound of crashing thunder. 

“Hah?!” Ashton leans in closer to hear as the ground shakes once more. 

“I said we should find some shelter!” You all but shout pointing at the sky and take their hand. So much for venturing off on your own and having a little voyage ‘back in an hour’. You hope the others have the mind to find shelter too. You send them a message just in case as you pull the genasi along through the trees and rocks until you stumble upon a cave. You’re not taking any risks and the lightning is getting closer. From here you’d be safe with cover, and still able to witness nature in all it’s grandeur. 

Letting himself be dragged along Ashton isn’t opposed to the shelter you’ve found because with his track record he wouldn’t put it behind any mischievous fey to set the gold in those cracks to attract the lightning. On the other side they too are a little curious to see what would happen… Maybe another time. Ashton curls and uncurls their fingers, rotates their wrists when you let go and take a look out at the oncoming clouds hiding the moonlight, or dusk-light should be more appropriate. You stay at the mouth of the cave to watch another rumble hit the earth in a cacophony and the lightning, quick as it passes makes this cave all the darker. Ashton can’t see shit and in an attempt to find a wall loses their footing. A crack, that’s luckily hidden by thunder saves most of the hit to his pride. But then fire glow appears in the palm of your hand. 

“Why are you on the ground?” You hide a chuckle as you watch Ashton give up on, life, existence, everything laying on their back, legs bent at the knees and groan. 

“I just wanted to be one with my element.” They speak as casually as they can but your brow furrows and you take a tentative step closer, and another and another. You kneel down and help Ashton sit up. Groans are not just a casual annoyance at this place, but something of discomfort. You caught on. Shit. 

“I can give you two a moment if you’d prefer but I don’t think that’ll do you much good.” 

“There’s room for one more. Plenty of the earth to go around.” Ashton jokes. 

“I was hoping there’d be plenty of you but I can settle for the rocks beneath my feet.” You jest and Ashton scoffs though the attitude is quick to slip when your arm hand touches their back. Even through their jacket, the warmth offers such a relief. “You doing okay?” Again your brow furrows. 

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” And so the comfort disappears. You pull back and just sit on your knees, hands gathered in your lap. Disapproval crosses your features. 

“Sure.” You deadpan and grab onto Ashton’s wrist, uncurling the fingers gently and clasping his hand between yours. You bring it to your lips and blow warm air. It doesn’t take much to see the instant relief cross their features. 

“Okay maybe I’m not entirely okay.” The look you give them is much akin to ‘ya think?’ and it hurts to admit to the way it makes Ashton feel inside. Then your features soften. You look out towards, the oncoming storm, to the lightning reaching out, and the wind rustling through the trees picking up. 

“Sit with me.” You simply say. It’s not quite a question as much as it is an order and Ashton does feel like they have a choice. It’s just a very tempting one despite their disdain for authority and following orders. You shift from your knees until you’re comfortable, looking out over the horizon. Everything seems so much easier when he looks at you. Everything is. You make it so because any doubt falls away. Ashton knows they’re on the right path because you’re there and as long as you walk it with them they’ll keep walking with you. 

Ashton shifts and sits next to you. He bumps your shoulder with his. You chuckle and bump back, though much likes the rock around, they don’t budge. The cold pain creeps up again and almost as if you know exactly what to do, you wrap an arm around their back, slipping your fingers under the jacket and lean your head on their shoulder. Just your sheer presence, and a little magic manages to numb the pain and that’s more than Ashton can say the majority of people they’ve had in their life have ever been able to do. 

“You’re so fucking confusing.” Ashton speaks before they think.

“Wow, so much affection.” You scoff but pull closer. 

“You are.” Ashton doubles down. “You’re a fucking disaster waiting to happen.” 

“But I’m your disaster.” You poke a finger at his chest. 

“Are you?” Again, speaking before thinking but that seems to be the right track. You take a deep sigh and Ashton’s heart stops, their breath stops. Time stops. There’s not but anticipation, both joy and dread loom overhead and they’re just stupid fucking feelings because end of the day you’re just you and you’re fucking amazing. That’s what you are. You’re fucking amazing. 

“I don’t know. Am I?” The both of you look at another lightning bolt striking close by. Ashton gives it a moment, letting the trembles of the earth fade and the light too, not but the dim orb behind the two of you offering the littlest of light. 

“Maybe you are. If you think you can handle it.” He looks down nudging your head from his shoulder. 

“First off, rude-“

“You’re the one using my shoulder as pillow, find a rock or something.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Will you now?”

“Yeah. A nice and comfy one.” You’re unreadable. That’s dangerous. Next Ashton knows you’re on your knees at their side, back facing the exit of the cave, your warmth has disappeared from their back but settles on their shoulders. It takes everything to not lean into the touch. Not that they have to because you lean closer. 

“This one seems plenty comfortable.” You close the gap, press your lips to Ashton’s. While you’ve shared your flirty kisses before they were just that. This kiss is different. This kiss is a lifetime unfolding however long it might last. This moment is as bright and beautiful as the flashes beyond the cover. You’re like a warm fire in the cold dead night and are simply a relief. You’re a certainty in their life when they have known so little. This might not be eternity but this is certain. You’re certain because you’re just fucking you and that’s all you’d ever need to be. Cover from a thunderstorm isn’t so bad out here. 

[deramin2]

Sitcom where it's the Luxon, Ka'Mort, and Rau'shan sharing a townhouse in an aasimar and are arguing over renovating the place to their own tastes. The Luxon took the mind and the rage, Ka'Mort took the body and made an earth genasi, and Rau'shan took the right arm and the cracks. Maybe a mockumentary like What We do In The Shadows. Slowly find out they've formed a casual polycule. They roast the Exandrian Pantheon regularly.

[bentannin]

Something that’s been gnawing at my brain since the latest episode aired is that no one in game has talked about the kiss. And obviously it’s because they have more important things to focus on (betrayals of trust, deep-cut family and abandonment issue, finally-boiling-over anger, DELILAH) but I can’t help putting the callowmoore glasses on and thinking about the angst and potential of it all!!

Imagine: it’s further down the line and maybe (after so much apologizing, after so much groveling, after so much trying and working towards earning everyone’s trust back) Ash and Fearne are okay again.

And maybe sometimes, even though he’d be too embarrassed/shy to admit it, they think about that kiss again. A quick, very awkward, kind of uncomfortable, and very not-smooth attempt at returning that stolen kiss from the airship all that time ago. A kiss that may very well have been their last because god the shard thing was really fucking stupid.

And maybe he thinks about how Fearne deserved better than that. Deserves better than that. And he seeks her out one day, in a quiet nook, or an empty hallway, or maybe he’s brave enough to even seek her out in her room, and he stumbles and stutters his way through asking for a do-over.

And maybe she’ll laugh or be confused, or, if they ever reach that point again, she’ll tease and prod and take joy out of the awkward, floundering mess of a titan in front of her.

And maybe, she lets him, and they kiss again but this time, he kisses Fearne Calloway the way she deserves. Because she is lovely, and caring, and full of so much life and love and wonder, and he fucked it up the first time but now theyve got a second chance and they won’t fuck it up.

And maybe they don’t. Maybe they kiss her like she’s everything, because she is. And maybe, by some miracle, they end up being more than okay at the end of their journey, wherever it may lead afterwards.

[longlivedelusion]

A Moment's Peace

An Orym x Ashton fic.

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

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

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

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

Enjoy🤍

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But—" Orym starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The blossom grew firmer roots inside Orym's chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[astralleywright]

Imogen and Ashton talk about piñatas, sleeping arrangements, and Laudna. Well-mostly about Laudna.

Hello Imogen and Ashton nation, here are two Imogen and Ashton conversations that I wrote, one after shardgate and another after swordgate. Since it is Imogen and Ashton talking, it is also inevitably about Laudna.

[kaermorhenatnight]

Just out of curiosity, cause I am writing a smut about Ashton Greymoore from Critical Role campaign 3. And I made it an Ashton x Reader fic cause I haven't seen much of those. Wondering if there's a reason for it, maybe no one just wants to read those xd Should I post it when I finish writing? Or is it just that CR fandom prefers fics between characters, not really the whole self-indulgent x reader kind?

(i don't have many followers so I don't think I will get an answer but gonna try anyway to see if my effort put in writing will be worth it by sharing with others)

[featherlesswings]

Oh, uh, I wrote a short little Ashton POV Callowmoore fic. Fluff but with some mature references.

[mommymilkersmac-n-cheese]

I am literally on my hands and knees begging all of the fanfic writers to write more fics on Ashton’s chronic pain I’m literally checking the Ashton chronic pain tag on AO3 every single day I need more (I’ll love you forever if you send me recs particularly of Ashton’s chronic pain with the rest of bells hells)

[loreruinedme]

Burning Love - A Callowmoore Fic

A/N - This is my first time I'm actually putting any of my writing anywhere so any feedback would be appreciated. This is slightly different to how the episode played out as well.

Spoilers for Campaign 3 Episode 77.

w/c - 3.8k

art by @/seasalt_farm on twitter

The sounds of their friends footsteps echo as they walk down the steps of the ziggurat, Chetney and Fresh Cut Grass muttering about how they will keep Lady Cassandra safe. Ashton and Fearne look to each other, holding each others gaze. In their periphery they see a glowing arcane shield come over them. The moment spans for an eternity. Panic is etched on Fearne’s face, determination is written on Ashton’s - it’s only them.

“They were going to argue, I don’t want this to-” Ashton says, barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah, no, I know, I understand I understand” Fearne cuts off his rambling with her own, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. 

The harness sits between them. A small part of Fearne feels like there’s still a choice to be made, that Ashton doesn’t have to do this but she knows they have made up their mind. 

“If it starts to get weird, feel free to scream like bloody hell, its okay, I don’t. Thanks” Ashton softly says to Fearne. He softens his gaze, reaching out for her hand - offering her the way to openly deal with pain, like one that they’ve had to hide throughout their whole life. 

“Yeah you got it” Fearne holds onto their hand, for what might be the last time, a single tear running down her cheek. 

Ashton can see the pain on her face, how much this is tormenting her. He just wishes he lives through this - hell, wishes he didn’t have to do this. He won’t fail his family though, not again. The moment seems like it lasts forever but quickly ends after Fearne wipes the tear away, continuing on. 

“Alright, well, lets get you in this thing” Her hand leaves his reaching for the harness, the only thing putting distance between them. 

They both relish in the moment of Fearne’s hands on Ashton, no matter the painful reasoning. The spark of electricity is undeniable as she slowly starts to put the harness on Ashton, never wanting to take her hands off of them again. 

“Lets do this. Quick” Ashton’s voice breaks the tender moment. The slight panic on his face is obvious to Fearne, knowing the group might stop them the urgency kicks in.

Snapping every buckle, tightening every strap until the harness looks like it was made for Ashton. Their hands engaging in some kind of practised dance, sparks of electricity firing whenever their hands brush. 

“I’m getting nervous” Fearne’s voice quivers as their hands touch when frantically putting on the harness. They stop. Ashton raises a hand, pinching her chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting her chin so their gazes meet. 

“What if, what if you die, what if you like explode” Another small tear falls down Fearne’s cheek, Ashton can’t help but notice due to their proximity. 

“Well, that’ll be a story won’t it” Ashton raises their other hand to cup her cheek, wiping the tear away. 

He can’t even meet her eye when he continues “Fuck it. Do it” a hint of pain in his voice seeing her in so much turmoil. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know. What if something happens” Fearne’s voice shakes with worry as she takes their hand in hers. Silently begging them not to do this. Their expression softens just a moment for Fearne to see the vulnerability that they are also scared about this. 

“Shit happens” Ashton rips her gaze from hers, it takes every inch of him to do so, searching for anyone to stop them. But he needs to do this, he must do this. For them. For her. For Fearne. 

His gaze clashes with hers again, she never took it off him knowing this might be the last time she sees him. 

“I know some of your whatever is bullshit” Ashton fakes a chuckle, trying to get the same from her, to see her enchanting smile one last time. “I know that you worry about your friends” He takes a small step towards her, their bodies almost touching now, hands still entangled. “This. Is. What. I. Need” He punctuates every word, trying to get her to see this is the only way. This is the only thing they can do to save the group. To save her. They simultaneously take a deep shaky breath, they’ve always been on the same wavelength. It’s almost enough for them to share a laugh, maybe Ashton’s final. “I need to save everybody. We all need to save everybody” Their faces are inches from each other, one move and they could both cave in to the feelings they’ve tried to hide for so long. “Alright?”

“No” She answers truthfully but Ashton already knew that, it’s all over her face. Her heart forces the next words out of her mouth before she can think “But what if this is not how we do it?” Every one of her pleads threaten to break Ashton, to change his mind, to fight for them.

“We’re already fucked anyway” His voice reaches just above a whisper, like he doesn’t want to admit it and they both know they aren’t just talking about this power. He’s talking about them, their all-consuming feelings that make a small part of both of them want to fight for another way. 

“What if giving it to you is not how we save everybody?” He questions, another silent beg to get her to realise this is the only way. 

“I was already thinking that” She already knew it in her head but her heart only broke now. “I just put the shard in there what do I do?” If she is going to do this she is going to do it right, this is a massive risk, they don’t need more odds against them. Their grip on each other loosens as they realise they can’t stay like this forever, as much as they want to, as loud as their hearts are screaming at them to. 

“We did it last time. Just put it in and turn it on if I recall” Both of them wrenching their gaze from each other and to the shard. “Lets go. You promised” His eyes wander her body, taking her all in before meeting her gaze, some of that determination he has is now echoed in her own features. 

“Shit. Now you had to go say something like that” She chuckles. That laugh makes him want to rip off the harness taking everything he just did and said back, that laugh thats become one of his favourite things in the world. But he doesn’t. “Alright” 

“Ready?” A small part of him wants her to say no, to fight for him, to fight for another way. 

“Yeah” Uncertain of her own answer but her heart knows he’s right. He can trust her, they can get through this. 

“One more for the road” She barely hears what he says before his arms are around her, holding her, comforting her, she could die in this very moment and die happy. Her arms wrap around him, returning the connection and that’s all the confirmation Ashton needs that she feels what he feels. Love. 

Ashton’s hands wander up her body to reach her face, savouring each millisecond of each other’s touch, silently craving for more. His hand cradles her cheek, eyes searching for permission, his breath catching in anticipation. Once she leans into his touch, moving her head towards his, it takes mere moments before his mouth closes over hers. Months of pent-up fire finally burning between them. Some regret fills the kiss, wishing they had done this before but nothing can take away from the heat between them. Their lips part in the kiss, no need for breath, this is what can keep them alive. Their tongues dance like they were made to do this. Ashton runs their hand through her hair to cradle the back of her head as Fearne grip on him becomes a vice, taking the kiss deeper. Flames dance through this kiss, their hands and bodies finally exploring each other finally relieving the months of craving. They melt into each other, everything feels right. Everything else falls away, no thoughts about what’s about to be done, it’s just them, it’s as if they are the only people in the world. 

As they finally break apart, held in each others arms, foreheads pressed together Fearne whispers “Well now I don’t want to put it in”. Silently praying she could just hold onto them and stay in this blissful long awaited moment. 

Her gaze drops to the shard, unfortunately leaving the comfort and safety of his arms. He watches her every move, trying to take in her captivating beauty one last time. The shard burns her hands but the heat isn’t anything compared to the fire of their kiss - nothing will ever compare. 

Ashton cups her face again, it takes everything in them to not kiss her again. 

“If it gets weird, you just yell” a whispered final request. Ashton doesn’t want her to suffer through this pain alone, he doesn’t want her to feel the pain alone. But they both know this will break her in ways it won’t break the others - it will shatter her heart. 

She reaches the shard round to the back of their neck where the funnel sits waiting. Neither of them miss the flash of desire as her hand brushes against his neck, where it was seconds ago. 

They both hold their breath, gaze locked on each other as everything else out goes into focus. They only notice the runes on the harness glowing as it casts different light on their faces. This is it. 

Fearne lets go of the shard barely noticing the rotating flame. Her hands cup his cheeks this time “You better not die” she demands, what might be her last words to them, as she drops her hands tensing them in fists at her side. 

For the first time, a single tear rolls down Ashton’s cheek. Fear tenses every part of their body as she asks something of him that he probably can’t deliver.

They stand together, as a warmth begins to blossom in Ashton’s chest. Fearne watches his face wince as he chooses feel the pain in front of her. The rainbow sparks begin to flicker in the opal stone on the side of Ashton’s head but Fearne can’t take her eyes off of his. 

The heat in his chest grows and grows until it begins to burn. Unlike the fiery passion they previously shared, this is white hot agony. Fearne feels helpless as she watches his face contort in pain. She watches the gold fracture lines across all of Ashton’s body turn to a bright orange - her guilt placing a heavier weight on her chest. 

All this time their gazes are set on one another, they don’t even hear their friends asking what is going on. All Fearne can do is watch as Ashton is baked in a searing heat. 

The heat within his chest burns as he feels something trying to awaken, a second heartbeat almost, starting to shift and flex. The heat lurches from his chest to his shoulder, Fearne seeing him jolt in pain. 

She begins to run to catch and steady him. But she sees the fear swimming in his eyes and the word “Don’t” escapes in a shaky breath, ghosting across his lips. He shuts his eyes tightly, he can’t bear to look at the guilt, fear and pain in her eyes. 

Fearne can’t suppress her cry as a chunk of Ashton’s shoulder shatters to the ground and break into thousands of pieces. Tears begin to quickly fall down her face, steaming as they reach the slowly heating ground below. 

“Fuck pain” He growls, his throat starting to feel the agonising burn. 

“No” Fearne pleads, taking another step closer to him. 

“Fuck pain” He shouts with a rage like no other due to the pain, opening his eyes to see Fearne’s face inches from his own. 

“No”. Ashton wishes he didn’t see her tear stained cheeks as for a millisecond she averts her gaze in the direction of their friends. They can help, they can stop the pain. 

As if reading her mind, Ashton whispers “Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare”. He doesn’t miss her slight flinch at the anger in his tone but he can’t control it, not now. He didn’t mean to scare her, it’s the last thing they wanted to do but he knows their friends will try and force her to take this pain on instead of him. He would go to the ends of the earth to make sure she never feels this pain. 

The heat spreads further through Ashton’s body and they hold each other’s gaze. Fearne‘s eyes quickly dart to the sound of rock cracking as a part of Ashton’s ear falls and shatters on the ground. This will literally tear him apart. The now orange cracks turn brighter and brighter into an almost white colouration, the rock that makes up his skin begins to heat just like the previously golden cracks did. 

As Ashton changes colour, Fearne sees the shard slowly drain colour until it cracks, mimicking what she sees in the man before her. His body lurches, beginning to expand and he slowly starts to crumble. 

His eyes tightly shut as another wave of unfathomable pain crashes over his body. Fearne doesn’t even notice the sound of Imogen’s footsteps coming towards them, how could she when she is watching a man she loves literally falling apart in front of her. 

He opens his eyes but instead of the familiar comfort she has been looking into the whole time she is met with burning coals, emitting a bright orange light towards her. Another shift of his body as his chest expands once more, a sickening crack meets her ears, unlike anything she’s heard yet. His right arm splinters off, completely detaching from his torso falling to the ground.

Fearne can’t take it anymore, she cant stand there and just watch this happen. Rushing to him, not even caring about the burning of her hands, she frantically starts undoing the harness. Reversing what dance they had done before but it is much slower this time, the time that is matters. Ashton can’t even feel her hands on him, it’s only pain. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no - help” Fearne wonders for a second if these are her own words before she recognises it’s Imogen’s pleas, not hers. 

She only feels fear in this moment, doing whatever she can to undo this. Ashton only feels pain, almost subsiding into numbness. Almost. 

Worry fills his features for a second, wondering if their friends will stop this and force Fearne to endure this instead. However a part of him, this new part of him, knows it’s too late. All he can offer Fearne is a sad smile knowing only he will have to endure this. Only him, only once, then it’s over.

Through what would be tears but is just steam. Ashton thoughts race: his past, his future, those he wants to protect, the one he wants to protect most. He believes he thinks this but the faintest whisper of his thoughts, his prayer, meets Fearne’s ears. 

“I don’t care where, just - I don’t care what I am going to become but I have to become something that is - I am not gonna loose anybody” That last sentence feels like it plays on loop in Fearne’s mind. Tears falling down her cheeks as she rushes to undo the harness, in her haste her fingers are slipping, loosing her precious seconds. 

Ashton, used to being in pain, is able to block out some of the burning, enough to feel the presence of his friends approaching. A white hot sensation is crawling across his body as he continues to grow brighter and hotter. 

“Anything you’ve got, I’ll take it” He roars in a mixture of pain and forced anger, a desperate plea for help to get through this, to rid him of the pain. 

“Anything - what did you do?” Imogen questions back. Ashton seemingly ignores it and, to his heart’s dismay, breaks from Fearne’s grasp stumbling with whatever strength they can muster towards Fresh Cut Grass. 

Fearne stands, another feeling of helplessness washes over her as she tries to help him stand but the burning is only getting worse. She sees Imogen in an effort to hold their body together. Ashton’s arm reaches for the healing potion at is side, he’s desperate in any attempt to stop the pain. But the slight hope that began to bloom in their chests vanishes as quickly as the potion evaporates. 

An uncomfortable laughter fills the space: ragged, broken and unsettling. Fearne’s body tenses in worry and rage as she knows it is unmistakably Ashton’s laugh. It’s usually a rare beauty but it is anything but that in this moment. 

Seeing their friends come to their aid fills both Ashton and Fearne with hope. The heating of the metal of FCG’s hand isn’t even noticed by Ashton as his is gaze once again shifts to Fearne, his rock. Their gazes meet and a wave of worry passes through them as she mutters a spell. Immediately Ashton feels whole again, he feels life, waves of it roll over him countering the constant pain. He can feel the spell holding him here, tethered to this world, all because of Fearne. The woman who is slowly becoming his whole life. 

She notices the twitch in Ashton’s fingers reaching for the ring, for any form of protection. But another torrent of pain wracks his body, all he can feel is fire, unable to concentrate on anything but the burning sensation that is ripping his body apart. What looks like small volcanoes seem to emerge from the cracks in his expanded chest, threatening to explode at any moment. 

There’s a silent scream of pain as his breath slows to a point where the burning orange of his eyes seems to slightly dim. Shallow ragged breaths fill the chamber as Fearne muffles a cry - ‘it should’ve been me’ is all she can think about seeing him on the brink of death. He uncontrollably crumples to a knee, another cascade of shale falling off of his body. She pushes all the energy she can towards him as FCG does the same and she sees a familiar sense of life return to those eyes. 

He reaches to the stone, his constant comfort, what makes up his body. There’s a battling duality happening as they continue to slip in and out of consciousness, two bombs inside of him threatening to detonate. All this time Fearne has stayed by him, keeping him here, as pain puts him down she brings him back up. All this time she is unbuckling the harness frantically undoing every mistake she made through streams of tears. She watches his life fade over and over only to be brought back by her. Unbothered by the heat that encompasses her whole body, it can be nothing compared to what he’s going through, to what she almost had to go through herself. 

Through her attempts and the helps of Imogen’s mage hand and Orym’s seedling, the harness is ripped from his body. Leaving her hands after what feels like an eternity of fumbling with the buckles. She instinctively reaches out for him, wanting him to know she is there but her fingers are met with white hot fire. 

The gold, now white hot, parts of his body emanate with a viscous glow. His eyes tightly shut and face tenses as he looks up, beams of sheer bright light emanate from his eyes. A blood-curdling scream rips from Ashton’s throat - one Fearne will never forget, it will haunt her, plague her dreams. 

And he explodes. 

Fearne’s world stops as it feels like the pieces of him are held in the air for an eternity. Tears turn into sobs that now wrack her body, an immense feeling of guilt and grief encompassing her. She can still make out pieces of the opal stone in his head that made her drawn to him, pieces of his mouth where he’s flash her that smirk, his hands that were previously on her face, his lips and the way she felt when theirs brushed against hers. It feels like she relives months full of memories in just a split second. 

She notices the ring, the one Deanna gave to Chetney, glowing with a fiery intensity, the visual embodiment of what their kiss felt like. All the pieces of Ashton rush back together in an instant and he is whole together again before her. The moment he is whole they never break each other gaze: focus, determination, desire, want, love. A multitude of shared feelings powers them both through the longest and most excruciating 30 seconds of their lives. 

She, and FCG, continue to pump life through him for what feels like hours. Draining their magical abilities to keep him alive and breathing. Not once does her gaze drop from his, she knows much they need each other. 

Eventually, the heat beings to subside as Ashton falls unconscious onto his side where his arm once was. She stops, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek, hoping what she did is enough to have saved him. For a brief moment her heart stops as she can no longer feel life in his limp body. 

She strokes his cheek for what is the last time, almost pressing her forehead to his. She feels his skin begin to cool as steam hisses from all across his body It encompasses the two of them in a cloud of steam, discreet enough she can press a quick kiss to his lips. He will die knowing how much she wants and needs him, he never stopped fighting for her, not until his last breath.

Air rushes through his lungs, the breath Fearne was holding escapes her as his weight shifts against her embrace. 

He comes to, he can feel her holding him, how close her face is to his. His eyes open and lips curve into a slight smile before doing the one thing his heart tells him not to and retreats. His eyes meet hers and they are both flooded with relief. Not caring who surrounds them now, her lips find his. Her lips are warm and soft against his, a reminder of the life she gave to him. She felt his hands gently cup her face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a gentle urgency. The relief they both feel floods the kiss as they part, holding each other. He sits up and admiring the heavy, glowing molten rock arm that cradles her face - a reminder of the pain he endured, a pain he survived, all because of her. 

[railroad-migraine]

hello lovely! you’re my favorite bells hells writer, you just hit the nail on the head with every post and i’m so excited everytime i get the notif that you posted

if your requests are still open and you have the time/want to, could you do a bells hells x reader with the prompt “please just hold me?”, like maybe reader had a nightmare or something and asks the party to hold them? please and thank you !!!!

Hello darling! Your words made me all warm and fuzzy, I'm honoured to be a favourite something hehehe. I did a similar post here for when the reader is afraid of the dark, if you're interested :)

~ Poet

"Please Just... Hold Me?"

-> S/O has a nightmare

Ashton 💙

Fuck- Shit- I mean, sure. Sure. C'mere. I'll keep you close.

Even though you're the one seeking comfort, Ashton initially freaks out a little bit themselves. They're not used to the vulnerability that comes with bad dreams, especially when it's being shared with someone he cares about.

Before you give him the go-ahead, his hands are hovering in mid air, clueless on whether or not it's okay to touch you.

They're not the best at words in situations like this, so they let their body do the talking for them. Toned arms pull you into their lap, one hand gently running up and down your back as you calm down.

His crystalised skull glints and catches the miniscule light in your shared room. A little rainbow makes a wobbly appearance on the headboard. Their body is strong and grounding beneath you.

-

Chetney 💙

Give me time and I'll figure out a way to punch nightmares. It's not impossible if it's for you. I'd do anything for you.

He's got his mind set on that end goal, and Chet doesn't give up easily. But it can wait for another day. A day where you're not trembling beside him.

Because of how smol he is, it's less him holding you and more him being scooped up into your lap with his arms around your neck. Your nose is pressed into his shoulder as he mutters soft words into your ear.

He makes teary attempts at making you laugh, something to distract you both from the water pooling in the corners of your eyes.

He keeps an eye on you in the morning, a subtle way of checking in. He doesn't bring it up in conversation - the man respects your privacy too much.

-

Dorian 💙

Do you even need to ask? Of course I'll hold you. You're safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you. They can't touch you now.

He feels a little helpless in the moment, his very being flooded with cautious alarm when you reach out for him blindly in the dark. He's not the strongest, nor the bravest, but he'll be your rock and help you through this as best he can.

Pretty words are what he lives on though, and he knows just what to say to make everything feel a little bit better. Sweet nothings and intimate musings drip from the lips that rest on the crown of your head.

His fingers sweep in soothing circles across your skin, and you cling to his silk shirt and silky hair as he guides your fluttering heartbeat to steady to a more restful rhythm.

Sings you lullabies of crisp apples in spring and warm sunshine that kisses the face of a dear lover. Those nightmares are easily kept at bay while you lay beside him.

-

Fearne 💙

Oh dear. It's just not fair, is it? Don't worry, baby, I got you. Ol' Fearnie's here now.

She's so naturally tender with you. In the daytime, Fearne teases relentlessly, pokes and prods and says sweet flirty things that make you want to curl up into a tight little ball and burn from embarrassment.

But here, she smooths back sweat soaked wispy hairs away from your forehead, presses her lips to your forehead and hushes your unnecessary apologies.

A light floral scent envelopes your entire being like a blanket while she encases you in her arms, her downy fur there feather soft and cosy.

Little Mister lifts his head from the foot of the bed and scampers up to hold your free hand, coos quiet. The other stays placed on top of Fearne's sleep dress, right over her heart. The heart that beats for you.

-

Imogen 💙

I know what it's like, love. Trust me, I do. I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need, big or small, it's yours.

Of all the party members, you know that Imogen is the most familiar with nightmares. You've spent many sleepless nights sitting with her, smoothing back her hair and holding a cup of water to her lips as she calms down from vivid visions with vague meanings.

The storm can be so vast and crimson at times, unbearable even. It terrifies her, makes her anxious when it's bedtime. Even if she tries to hide it, you can tell.

But when you're distressed and whimpering under the covers beside her, she pushes those thoughts away and tries to be a bit braver. Braver for you. It's the least she can offer.

She cradles you into her side like you're some glass object that could shatter, her words and thoughts soothing you until sleep or daylight finds you both.

-

Laudna 💙

Those bad dreams have some nerve poking around in your head. They wouldn't dare if they knew what I could do. Lay back, precious thing.

Like Chetney, Laudna makes the nightmares out to be a personal enemy. They're cruel and unworthy of someone so good such as yourself. Just out of reach so that she can't protect you from them.

If she could, she would show them how scary-scary she can actually truly be.

But until she has the power to physically strangle the embodiment of your bad dreams, she fluffs your pillow and helps you lean back onto the mattress. She's humming something quietly, a lullaby of some sort, her fingers gingerly stroking your face once she's cuddled into you.

She asks if you want to talk about what you dreamt, and respects however you answer. Works you through what you remember and curls her fingers around your own as you speak.

-

Orym 💙

Hey, hey. Look at me. Hey. Hi. It's me. You're alright, okay? I'm right here. We're alright. Just focus on me.

He lights a candle quicky, and you now are able to see the concern on his face that the shadows previously hid from you. There's a sadness in his eyes, but it's overpowered by the protectiveness in his actions.

He perches at your side, cupping your face while his thumbs gently wipe away crusty sleep from your eyes, soft smile brighter than the flame on the nightstand.

A sprig of lavender grows effortlessly from his palm and he tucks it in between your pillows to help you sleep better when you feel ready to.

Orym has had his fair share of nightmares, and helps you through it like he approaches everything - with practiced carefulness and kindness that is so good in nature that the bad dreams dare not linger.