1 - 20 of 38 Works by Antlered
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Imogen knew it was coming.
It was like clockwork, every year, the very moment the weather started to turn.or, i heard Cold Inside and my sleeper cell was activated
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Come a little closer (I just want to hold you tonight) by Antlered
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
23 Jul 2024
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Laudna is standing. It’s been nearly six hours and Laudna has been standing ramrod straight the entire time. Imogen glances around to see the rest of their group all either sitting on some bits of ruins strewn about, or laying sprawled out half on the ground and half across Dorian’s lap in Fearne’s case. But not Laudna. Imogen is barely able to focus on the projected visuals of, apparently, the gods infiltrating Aeor. It’s hard to look away from the uncomfortable way Laudna’s jaw clenches, how her hands flex and squeeze in front of her stomach, how the gleaming cage around her legs barely yields as she shifts from one foot to the next. Imogen frowns when Laudna shifts again, a sharp flicker going across the her face as one of her hands flits down to her hip, where the metal cage seems to bite into her skin.
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“Chetney! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Laudna tucks her phone into the crook of her shoulder, digging through a nearby box to find her crystallized honey. She grins at the huff on the other line, doling out a large spoonful of honey into her mug before dropping the honey back into the box it came from.
“Heard you might be in the market for a job.” Chetney’s voice is the same as it’s always been, gruff and to the point. Laudna laughs, tapping her spoon along the rim of her mug. “Turns out, I’m in the market for someone of your peculiar talents.”
“I do happen to be in the market for some work.” Laudna sits at her table, crossing her ankles over one another as she sips at her tea. There’s a stack of mail in the center of the table, and Laudna dutifully ignores it. As usual. “What did you have in mind?”
“Your usual thing, you know. Costume, makeup, the regular shtick. Figured I’d give you a call first.”
“First choice, huh? Must be truly gruesome, then, if I’m top of the list.”
or; laudna is a makeup artist and imogen trains movie horses
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“How was your night? I don’t think I’ve asked.” The question throws Imogen off, and it isn’t helping that Laudna isn’t looking at her. Laudna hasn’t ever asked about the nights when Imogen would sneak off, especially the ones when she would slip away with a faceless stranger. She used to want it, wanted Laudna to press and prod. to give her an opening to admit the feelings she’s kept locked away.
“It was fine. Helped relieve some stress.” Imogen pretends to not hear her voice, ignores how high and strained it sounds.Laudna hums, and Imogen watches her pick at her cuticles, watches the ichor bead at the raw skin there like a smear of ink.
“They seemed your type. Nice shoulders, rather tall.” Laudna says it with a grin that looks more like a grimace. Her voice sounds just as strained. Silence stretches taut between them afterwards, and Imogen tries to think of something to say, a way to turn the conversation back to Laudna.
Series
- Part 3 of Imogen's deals with the fae
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Summary
Laudna is a woman of very many descriptions. She makes herself a cup of tea every morning, avoids watching the news like it’s an olympic sport, and she also happens to be very particular about her clocks. First it started with her wristwatch, a fun thing with a built-in calculator and tinny chiptune alarms. Laudna spends what feels like hours programming in the only alarm she needs, a timer that chirps out the first few notes of a classical song. Every four hours, thirty-six minutes, and twelve seconds the little watch would play the first five notes of the Dies Irae.
or; Laudna died, but she got better guys
Series
- Part 2 of Antlered Rewrites Presents:
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Summary
Laudna Bradbury runs a channel on Scrytube, talking about the intricacies of death and how it's been treated throughout history.
Imogen Temult runs the channel StrikesTwice, discussing the different horror stories and games she loves.
They're gay about it, naturally.
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What would you say, if I did as you did? by Antlered
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
19 Feb 2024
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Imogen hated not knowing things. She hated being kept in the dark, hated the idea that she had a question and someone was holding back an answer. It was both a quirk from her years of unfettered mental access and the natural curiosity of her upbringing. Before she became, well, herself, her father would encourage her learning. He pushed her towards the more educated members of Gelvaan, would find her any book he could get his hands on just to give her something to figure out. Which only worsened the blow when he pulled away when she would ask about her mother, throwing mental walls up the moment she learned she could simply dig the memories free from his mind.
Laudna hated knowing how things would go, hated that she could tell from a glance how someone was likely to react to her. It always left her on the back foot, kept her defensive and prepared for someone to mention how off-putting or scary she was. Even in life, she was subject to the constant opinions of others. Her parents wanting more for her, her peers wanting nothing to do with her, and then being under ever present watch of her murderer after. Even after meeting her friends, she was subjected to it, with no one around to truly understand her.
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Laudna should have noticed how shadows clung to him, should have caught how he would eye her with more than just the expected fear. But Bertrand was never truly in her focus, always off in her periphery simply existing and being old. It always made her a bit curious, how he would school his reactions into the typical jump and scream category, but Laudna couldn't spare a thought towards it. Fighting a dining room set, then getting whisked away to fight their new patron, then leaving again to fight some sluggy shade creepers. It kept her mind full, too scattered to truly focus.
Then Imogen has her nightmare, and Bertrand becomes the center of Laudna's focus.
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you look so fine (i really wanna make you mine) by Antlered
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
09 Jan 2024
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Imogen enjoys a night in more often than she likes to admit. Laudna was always the social one of the pair, the one getting invited out to the odd art gallery showings or going out with Ashton to strange concerts at hidden bars in the city. Laudna was always polite, extending an invitation to Imogen whenever the event of the night sounded like something she would enjoy. And Imogen wasn’t immune to Laudna, usually joining her to go to the quieter things, the lighting ceremonies in the park during Winter’s Crest was something of a tradition now after years of living together.
But Imogen preferred staying in with their pets, cooing at Pate from his cage and lounging on the couch with Sashimi sprawled out at her feet, a trashy show on that she could comment on to the hound, usually earning her a quiet whuff.
or; imogen and laudna getting together all over again. we all know the drill here.
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it dont mean a thing (if it aint got that swing) by Antlered
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
14 Dec 2023
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The one thing about running a front, Imogen quickly learned, was that there would be calls for her to do the advertised job. The carved sign hanging above the door caught most eyes, even with chipped paint. She lucked out in that not many people owned pianos, so a shop declaring piano repair and tuning wasn’t a hot commodity. That didn’t stop the rare customer from coming in for her services, talking complicated about the different problems they were having. Imogen could field them with a passing knowledge of pianos, earned from her short time in the Gelvaan church choir, and the strict lessons Chetney forced her to endure so that she could pass as a plausible front. He trained her on the finer details of maintenance just in case the piano they had downstairs needed any work, or in the rare chance that someone actually needed her to come out to their own piano for maintenance. It was a headache each time, a minor one but still a pain. So she would load up her unwieldy bag full of the tools she would need, the little hammers and pliers and artists lead, before heading out to the piano in need.
or, imogen tunes and repairs pianos as a front for a swing bar, while laudna plays said illegal swing bar.
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Laudna knew that what she was doing wouldn’t last, knew that her mind was a haven for Imogen to use. The way she would brush their minds together, like a cat slinking up to someone for affection, made Laudna giddy that her first friend in years actively sought comfort within her. And Laudna knew that she was playing with fire, letting certain thoughts buoy close to the surface of her mind. It hadn’t even been an entire year spent with Imogen at her side yet, and her fingers twitched as they walked down the road to pull out her journal, a calendar dutifully kept on the back handful of pages. Imogen glances at her with a curious look, and Laudna tries to school her face into her usual grin instead of whatever it is her face looks like now. Probably pinched, like her lips have a laundry pin holding them closed tight to keep her new thoughts from boiling out.
or; i rewrote one of my first imodna smuts
Series
- Part 1 of Antlered Rewrites Presents:
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Summary
Her coin sits heavy on her belt, so she slips some silver to the overly eager to please bartender for a bottle of top shelf brandy and a glass before she slinks into the darkest, quietest corner of the bar. Pâté joins her, perched on the booth beside her with a mended thimble serving as his cup. She pours him a finger, or what would be one if his glass was the same size, before she fills half her own glass with brandy. Laudna sniffs it once, a memory of her father doing the same, before she swallows it back, the burn not quite chasing away the guilt that lingers in her chest. She manages to finish a quarter of a bottle, swaying lightly in place, when Laudna spots someone familiar coming down the stairs. They lack the violet hair she hopes for, however, so she goes to pour herself another hand's worth of brandy.
or, laudna and deanna talk about death and coming back, and the difference in choice about the matter
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hey sharpshooter (i like the way youre moving) by Antlered
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
15 Oct 2023
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“Here, let's get you some water, you’re going to have quite the headache tomorrow if you don’t drink something that isn’t alcohol.” Laudna finishes her unbuttoning quickly, standing and dutifully marching across their small room to hunt for a waterskin, leaving Imogen in her undone clothes and mind spinning with the idea of Laudna marking her with the shape of her mouth on open display.
“Nnh, jus’ wanna sleep with you, I’ll water later.” Imogen whines, trying to snag Laudna’s attention through their mirror, pouting when she gets ignored in favor of Laudna laughing and thrusting a found waterskin into the air.
“Absolutely not, you’re already a grouch in the mornings and I simply don’t want to add a hangover to the mix.” Laudna walks over with the waterskin, pushes it firmly into Imogen’s hands, “Drink.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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“You’re welcome, have a good day!”
Ashton wanted to smash the cash register with his cane.
It had only been, with a quick check of their phone, only forty minutes since he clocked in. Forty minutes of people hemming and hawing over food that Ashton would have to work three hours to even think of buying. And they all wanted his opinion, as if he would have an opinion on the atlantic sturgeon caviar they were considering.
or, the fake dating/retail/modern/mafia callowmoore au that has been genuinely haunting me
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Laudna is already settled in the room, talking and cooing over Pâté and Sashimi. The former marionette is wagging her tail fast as Laudna dotes on and praises the pair on a job well done on whatever task she had asked of them. It’s unsettling in the most endearing of ways, watching as Sashimi pads around the room before curling into a ball and blinking sleepily. Imogen leans down to stroke along her back, grinning when her tail thumps a few times against the floor. Laudna chuckles behind her, and Imogen glances over her shoulder to catch her dressing down for the night. Her clothes are new, well-made and gorgeous, a deep velvet-black top that leaves Laudna’s shoulders and back bare, embroidered at the collar and sleeves with lavender and belladonna blooms. Her skirts are still long, though clearly new, and already mended over where a branch or the odd blade has cut the fabric.
Imogen looks away before any more skin is bared, her heart already pounding hard enough in her chest at being reunited.
or; a post reunion chat, with some reveals
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She was a marvel, a curiosity to be poked and prodded until she was deemed a statistical oddity and cast out. Then she was an oddity to gawk at, to point out with hushed whispers as she walked the streets of her suffocating home.
Four hours, thirty six minutes and twelve seconds.
(or: laudna is a record holder for worlds longest nap)
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It’s going to be a sleepless night.
Laudna’s collarbone isn’t pressing into her jaw, no cold hands making her jump slightly as they shift in sleep. There isn’t any music, no too-slow heartbeat to fill the static silence. Imogen stands, careful to keep from jostling Fearne and Chetney beside her, before stepping out of the cave. A wide field of ice and snow greet her, the dark sky stark against the unbroken white as bone-chilling winds bite through her clothes. The leylines are still in the sky, a rainbow tinted haze that jumps and twitches like the electricity that Imogen can call to her fingertips. Ruidus isn’t visible, and the lack of Laudna at her side makes the absence in the sky terrify her.
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"Fearne, I'm not sure I can really take the time off. You know how it goes around the holidays." Laudna was fretting, she knew she was fretting. Even Pate could tell she was, and he was curled into a ball under his heat lamp sleeping off a recent meal.
"Laudna, you have paid vacation days. Just use them up to take an honestly much needed break. I'll show you around town, you can meet my friends! I have one I just know you're gonna love." Fearne's voice was tinny over her overworked phone's speakers, but her words were still just convincing enough to have Laudna glancing over to her calendar. Pate watched her, tongue flicking out to taste at the air for a moment as Laudna walks across the room in a huff.
"Well I do have enough days for the whole month, and D was encouraging me to use them up. Are you sure your friends wouldn't mind?"
or i wrote a hallmark au for myself but you guys can read it too
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They were still growing used to each other, then. Laudna was more mystery than endearing quirks, the rat hanging from her hip a macabre curiosity rather than an entertainment Imogen found herself looking forward to. Her mind was still a musical oasis, but one she had yet to learn in its entirety. The humming song wafts over their still fresh bond in the early morning, settling the anxiety that likes to climb up Imogen's spine at the imagined stress of the day ahead. Her rictus grin startling every trader that they dealt with would swing the tune of it into a joyful melody. A gentle crescendo when a barter is struck in their favor, Laudna glancing over her bony shoulder with a twinkle in her eye as coin is changed hands. A subtle shift from major to minor whenever a dark look would dim her eyes, the tempo of her song slowing until it almost dropped into the old wartime marches Imogen faintly remembers from her childhood
or; imogen and learning laudna
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Imogen hates Yios. Hates the way her mind is under a constant swarm of thoughts and emotions, hates how her defenses have been utterly shattered after days in the quiet of the jungle left her unprepared. Her nights have been filled with restless sleep or no sleep at all, a bad habit she picked up during her fight with Laudna that never really had the chance to stop. The storm is a constant now, something Imogen can’t escape during the day, she can feel the wind on her skin and hear it rushing past her ears if she stands still for too long. It feels suffocating, being surrounded by it at all times. As if at any moment Imogen will see red clouds swarm the sky and wash everything away. Not to mention the new warnings her mother speaks, begs her to heed, alongside the newer knowledge of who her mother seems to be working with.
So, Imogen hates Yios.
Series
- Part 2 of Imogen's deals with the fae