#imotohan

[jadequarze]

Imotohan for a ko-fi request

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: Image 1 of 3. A digital drawing of Imogen Temult and Otohan Thull from Critical Role. They're both wearing modern clothing, Imogen is wearing a denim shirt and a cowboy hat, and Otohan is wearing a dark jumper and a leather jacket. Both of them look serious.

Image 2 of 3. A digital drawing of Imogen Temult and Otohan Thull. Imogen is a vampire and wearing a silvery-grey dress and touching the face of Otohan, who is a huge werewolf with black fur dusted with silver around her muzzle and back.

Image 3 of 3. A digital drawing of Imogen Temult and Otohan Thull. Imogen is dressed like a priestess from Ancient Greece and Otohan is dressed like a Spartan Warrior. Otohan is smiling at Imogen, who has her arms folded and is frowning up at Otohan. End description.]

Kofi doodles for @mehoymalloy!!

[moment--ary]

really enjoyed making this spicy commission for @mehoymalloy inspired by their fic Hold Me, Break Me (sometimes the hatesex just hits)

[mehoymolloy]

Minunthádios

(Critical Role; Imogen Temult/Otohan Thull)

An Ancient Greek AU by @maddytrout and I.

Work Info, Tags, and Opening Lines under the cut!

-

Hid from the Moonweaver’s silver eye, blanketed beneath black, and starless sky, the Wild Wolf of Sparta speaks, and their armies listen.

‘Fear not the throng of men, turn not to flight,  but straight t’ward the front line bear your shields,  despising life and welcoming the dark  contingencies of death like shafts of sun.’

Their voice rings with authority hard-earned.  ‘Spartans! To greet death in the light  of the sun is promised to no one.  But this I say with certainty:

 Tonight, we will plunge our enemies  to the darkest, furthest depths  of the Duskmaven’s shadowed realm,  and dawn shall herald our victory.’

Obscured even from the mind of the Knowing Mistress, that guardian Goddess of Athens, The Wolf of Sparta and their pack move on Piraeus.

~

Imogen had known the Wild Wolf of Sparta would one day breach the walls of Piraeus long before his phalanx stormed the gates and seized the docks.

However, as always, the port city’s dēmarchos did not heed her warnings, calling her mad for good measure. While her mother did believe her, even Liliana—Athens’ renowned oracle, elevated in status and favored by the king himself—could convince no one that her daughter’s sight was anything more than the frenzied ramblings of a god-struck girl.

After all, seers are only truly valued when they confirm what the people already believe, and Imogen had seemingly been cursed to foresee only omens and calamity.

So as the days and weeks and months marched along, Imogen had been naive enough to hope perhaps she would never see her nightmare come to pass.

She was wrong.

[maddytrout]

Happy Birthday, @mehoymalloy ! Take this amazing Imotohan piece that I commissioned for you by the amazing & talented @lillithvexx

Thank you for bringing me into the fold, being a great writer & collaborator, & an amazing fast friend! I hope you enjoy!

[inomakani]

The Red Storm Comes - Happy Birthday Malloy!

A very happy birthday to my dearest @mehoymalloy who is my partner in (mostly literary) crime! I wrote her another poem (AO3 link) about the indomitable blorbos that are Imogen Temult and Otohan Thull~

The red storm comes, in moments after eyes flutter closed, and waking fades to deepest slumber, 'midst the crackle of the lightning, and the booming of the thunder. The red storm comes, and she finds herself adrift, possibility and potential roiling alike, her mind drawn hither, tossed thither, until the crack of a lightning strike. The red storm comes, eyes wide shut alight on marble columns, a barked command rings through the space, her mind drawn down into visions of blood, of life and death set about the place. The red storm comes, and a smile is drawn across her face, a payment received and the service given, rules broken despite her better judgement, all for the allure of one so driven. The red storm comes, 'midst howling wind and lashing rain, mystery known yet still an abstraction, grey hairs threads to pull, as hands find throat, killer undone by their fatal attraction. The red storm comes, the monster of her nights now chained, ensnared by the magic of ancient stones, a trust is forged and the secrets unwound, her body stretched until the moan. The red storm comes, mind and self bathed 'neath neon lights, fist buried deep within her writhing form, her body the currency, in trade for a deal, a soaked desk becomes a break in their scorn. The red storm comes, and she's in Bassuras once more, sees blades, eyes, and body, their crimson power, their steely gaze bores down and she feels a pulse, roused by her own cry at this early hour.

[spooky-activity]

Commission of Imogen and Otohan in a box for @mehoymalloy

[chetneysdad]

When I tell you I had far too much fun making Otohan bluescreen in this cute little bonus scene from @mehoymalloy's A Dance With Danger

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