#I’m sure Laudna’s fine

[c-duceusclay]

“Your power should have been mine, and not gone to the halfling!”

[zelreedsandwrites]

*aggressively refreshing ao3*

Please please please don’t make me go back to writing please I just wanna read—

[quipxotic]

Ok, trying to look at this from Ashton’s point view re their little display for the Bright Queen. If you are someone who is looking for answers about what the fuck is up with you there is some value to raising that question with more than one person who seems likely to be an expert. And if you’re someone who has suddenly decided they are tired of not knowing these answers and are generally not known to be patient, you might try to force the issue rather than waiting to see if you can trust said experts first. And if you’ve grown up in the middle of bum-fuck in Marquet, what do you really know about the Kryn Dynasty anyway?

I mean yeah, your new friend Essek warned you that showing off your powers to the wrong person could mean you end up a specimen being pulled apart in someone’s lab, and yeah he’s from the Kryn Dynasty so he should be more knowledgeable about that than you. And yes he seems really smart and capable and you like him. Like really like him because he’s hot. And he helped Laudna, which carries a lot of weight for you. But he also seems like an overly cautious and easily frightened person. I mean, he asked Laudna to open up her rib cage and then screamed when she did it. And he accidentally turned himself into a goat in Aeor and it’s really hard to take someone seriously after something like that.

So maybe he’s wrong and you really know better? What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you have a recent example of one of your best friends leaning into risky behavior that led to a fight that looked worryingly like it would lead to a TPK.

I’m sure it’ll be fine. No consequences for anyone other than you whatsoever. And you really hate yourself so consequences, no matter how dire, aren’t any kind of useful deterrent if you’re the only one suffering them.

[southern-gothic-comic]

Page 56

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(Author Notes)

Panel 1: Dolores Garrod is transfixed on either side by beams of crackling energy reaching out from the two witches.

Panel 2: Imogen stands over the charred body with her hands outstretched as the spell ends. The glow fades from her eyes but not her hands. She looks a little in awe of what she’s just done, but unrepentant.

Panel 3: Then she looks to Laudna, who is standing a short distance away, still looking haunted (and haunting).

Laudna: Imogenn

Imogen: . . . Laudna?

Laudna: no don’t don’t look at me

Panel 4: She runs to Laudna and catches her as her knees give out beneath her, the nightmare image fading. Laudna gives her a wobbly smile, made ghastly by the blood running from it and the streaks of black tears still on her face.

Imogen: Laudna! Are you all right?

Laudna: Did she hurt you?

Imogen: Me? No, I’m fine. But . . . 

Laudna: Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.

Panel 5: Supporting Laudna, Imogen inspects the conspicuous hole going through her in disbelief.

Laudna: You . . . you saved me.

Imogen: You sure about that?

Laudna: They were -- they were going to -- they --

Imogen: Shh. It’s all right now. They’re gone.

Panel 6: Relvin approaches and looks down at the body.

Relvin: Oh, Genny.

[distant--shadow]

When Imogen wakes it is with an ache in her neck

a drop into reality unusually cushioned

a hand combing through her hair

and she can’t help the smile that breaks when she meets Laudna’s watchful eyes peering down at her, flushes shortly after.

“Sorry, did I fall asleep?”

Laudna smiles back at her, halts the hand playing with her hair.

“You did.”

An unspoken mutual agreement allows the moment to stretch in silence –

that or time is still fucky from Imogen only just waking up. It gives her enough of it to contemplate.

The sun must be high, the atmosphere muggy and the fauna all bustling as if it were a market day and the critters had stalls to set up and produce to bring home for their litters in the burrows. She feels the layer of sweat on her skin wherever the sun directly touches it, smells in waves where it heats the floor and diffuses the groundcover as if it were potpourri-

Above her, backlit - Laudna’s wearing a halo. The giant leaves of the giant trees are so high above them that the scale almost looks normal, the light breaking between the canopy in beams, sparkling in places where it catches insect wings and pollen, silhouetting edges of wiry strands of hair that act as though curtains on a canopy bed, all giving cover from the storm (should it come). It all feels so hazy, could be the vision starting to turn to grains of sand in her eyes like before a migraine but it’s also unusually clear, her head weightless despite the aching neck – funny what a handful of hours of good sleep can do.

The unspoken mutual agreement is ended.

“Did you rest well?” what did you dream about?

“I did, yeah...”

Unintentional, excusable really - waking with her defences down.

Wouldn’t be outta the ordinary to share.

“…dreamt we were back at Oddrún’s, was nice-” she withholds the details, just to save a little face. Exposes it anyhow, when she finds herself inadvertently taking the hand that had stilled in her hair, holding her palm up above her head with Laudna's lying flat on top of it “-then the roof caved in again and the place got swarmed with birds.”

“Birds?”

Imogen's thumb traces the knife-edge of the long nail on Laudna’s.

“Birds.” Imogen confirms, distracted, half-awake, giddy. The word already sounds funny; thrown back and forth between them. She chuckles at how her lips form around the repetition of it, says it again in Marquesian to see if it feels as abstract- that causes Laudna to quirk her brow from behind the fan of their fingers. “All different kinds, real cute and stuff, mostly. Place got furnished in feathers, was pretty chaotic - parakeets nestin’ in the cups and saucers and kingfishers in the rafters…” Laudna exhales a single syllable of a choral chuckle and Imogen has never felt so relaxed. “There was a kinda shady lookin’ big one standin’ on one leg in the corner by the hearth though, kept squawkin’.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, think it was a shoebill. You ever seen one of those?”

“You know, I’m not sure. I wonder if there was any significance…”

Their fingers interlace, under Laudna's initiative. Imogen stares at the long nails now reaching to her wrist like plates of fine ebony gauntlets.

“I could try draw it for y’all, but I don’t think it’d help…” comes out audibly distracted, the points of Laudna's talons gently making contact with Imogen's scarred skin-

“Allow me to get my notebook~” Laudna enthusiastically sings – nearly cutting Imogen, their hands separating - and Imogen is left staring at the empty space that was occupied by the shape that the two of them made, wonders if there is a word for that, like ‘bird’ - each hand a wing of some amalgamation, dream chimera, released between palms.

Probably a word she doesn’t have the language for.

(passage and illustration from @picturesofthegoneworlds ' intertwined)

[unicyclehippo]

the witches whomst are bitches, ritual + oleander + salt

imogen laid down in the centre of the ritual circle—“magic herbs” she was pretty sure were weeds and flowers, not remotely magical, that fearne had plucked out of random gardens and shoved in her pocket(s) and salt—and accepted a kiss from her girlfriend when she bent low to nudge a pillow under her head.

‘i’ll be here the whole time!’ laudna assured her.

‘unless i tell you to leave,’ fearne chimed in.

‘unless she tells me to leave. in which case,’ laudna lowered her voice, ‘i’ll sneak round the house, climb the side, and watch through the window. I’ll break in if she does anything dangerous. or threatens your virtue.’

‘baby, i don’t have any virtue to threaten,’ imogen teased, and dragged her eyes across the blotchy blush that ran up laudna’s neck.

‘oh well, yes that’s, well! well!’ laudna laughed.

‘are you two flirting?’ fearne asked. when imogen nodded, she pouted. ‘mean! i couldn’t hear! say it all again?’

‘well, i said—‘

‘she’s kiddin’,’ imogen interrupted laudna, reaching out of the ritual circle to squeeze her wrist. she paused, infatuated by the way laudna looked at her—the confused way she blinked, stammered, like imogen had swiped every thought clean out of her head—before settling once more in the circle.

fearne pouted, sighed, batted her lashes for good measure. ‘i wasn’t kidding,’ she said, kneeling next to laudna and the circle. ‘i’m really good at flirting too.’

‘we know,’ imogen chorused with laudna, exchanged another giggle and sidelong look.

fearne’s lidded look had imogen’s laugh trailing off, uncertain. ‘you have no idea,’ she promised. ‘take your shirt off.’

‘what? no.’

‘oh?’ laudna perked up.

‘oh fine, but the spell won’t be as effective if you don’t.’

‘aren’t we just trying to prank ashton? like, astral projection or whatever?’

‘oh is that what we’re doing? hm.’

imogen narrowed her eyes. ‘baby. grab her spellbook and tell me what it says.’

laudna flushed again—she wasn’t used to the term, nor the endearment, even though imogen had always been kind always been sweet it was different, she was hers now and everyone knew it, knew what it meant!!—and scuttled along to fearne’s altar—candles, a lava lamp, a dead bouquet of flowers, every train ticket stub she had from visiting her mama and oleander up the coast.

‘hm,’ laudna said, and ‘oh, hm,’ and ‘yes, that’s not the same spell at all. unless of course it’s a fake title.’

‘what does it say?’ imogen didn’t take her eyes away from a grinning fearne, who waggled her brows.

‘well.’

‘laudna.’

‘some parts are hard to read, since it’s in pink gel pen? and the light - it’s a little -‘ Laudna’s words barrelled out when imogen glanced at her just so—though not without a deep blush. ‘spell to grow enormous kno- breasts.’

‘knockers,’ fearne whispered the correction to Imogen, and winked.

imogen sat up.

‘wait! you promised!’

‘not for this! i reckon i’m doin’ just fine on my own!’

‘can confirm,’ laudna agreed from her place by the altar. she touched a dead stalk, which snapped, and guiltily hid it behind her back.

fearne huffed. ‘fine. we can do the stupid astral projection. and you can show me your boobs.’

‘fearne.’

‘you can see mine?’

‘fearne.’

‘well what else are we supposed to do on a girls night? not take our shirts off?’ she looked close to tears by this point and it was impossible to tell if they were real or not.

imogen looked wildly to laudna, who shrugged and gestured for imogen to go ahead.

me? you take your shirt off, imogen sent mentally.

it’s not my tits she wants to see! laudna hissed back, in that strange echoing manner.

‘i’m not takin’ my shirt off,’ imogen said. to both of them, it felt like, with laudna staring wide eyed and imploringly at her as well. ‘that’s fourth date kinda behaviour,’ she continued, and sent laudna a mental spike not to contradict her.

fearne eyed her, and then laudna. a coy smile twisted around her lips. laudna twisted around her pinkie, enthralled by their friend.

‘is that true?’ she asked, tone saccharine. ‘did she wait for your fourth date before whipping out the girls?’

‘oh,’ laudna said, and, ‘i felt like i had been waiting forever to see them,’ she said, and very carefully didn’t look at imogen, nor directly at fearne, who was only a mind reader when it came to things like this.

‘first date?’ she asked, knowingly.

laudna crumpled like tissue paper. ‘yes. the very moment we got to her room.’

‘laudna!’

‘i’m sorry! i haven’t gotten to talk about it to anyone and, darling, it was ever so lovely and i never thought of myself as particularly effusive—‘

‘really?’

‘not when it came to dates and whatnot!’

‘you can tell me everything,’ fearne soothed, patting the spot next to her and then, after a moments thought, her thigh. the blatant flirting with her girlfriend didn’t piss imogen off like she thought it might, though, and fearne must have seen it because she grinned a great grin, a cat with the canary grin, and patted her other thigh with a look to Imogen.

‘you’re incorrigible,’ imogen laughed. ‘and you can tell fearne anything you want, laud. you know? it’s - i love you, you don’t have to keep it a secret.’

laudna folded her hands over her face. peeked through the narrow splits between her fingers. she was very good with secrets. stuffed her feelings beneath the creaking floorboards. slipped tickets and valentine’s into the peeled back of the mirror. imogen hoped one day that would change. they would have a house where she wouldn’t have to hide.

‘i wouldn’t tease,’ fearne said, gently.

‘oh. oh, i know. I don’t -‘ laudna fingers fluttered. ‘i know.’

imogen crept closer to fearne. leaned into her friends side. she was soft and warm and smelled like the garden, like rich earth and flowers. her cheeks were freckled. imogen wanted, not for the first time, to press her lips against her chin where there was a strange lack of freckles. see if she could coax a hot blush to the spot, if the warmth would conjure more of the darling little marks.

‘no more boob spells,’ imogen said firmly.

fearne sighed. ‘i promise. besides, now you’re up close i can see you don’t need it.’

‘isn’t she perfect,’ laudna muttered from behind her hands.

fearne hummed her agreement. her eyes were burning hot, startling. ‘i’ve always thought so.’

imogen stared at her. her thoughts drifted to laudna. can i kiss her cheek? she asked her girlfriend.

of course? laudna returned, confused. you can do whatever you like.

so she did. leaned up from her knees and set her lips against that tempting spot, hand curling around the back of fearne’s neck.

‘oh?’ fearne laughed. ‘i’ll stop so many spells if this is what i get for it!’

imogen pulled back. rubbed her thumb against the same spot, swiping away her lip gloss. ‘it’s not for that. just.’ she probably didn’t think of it the way imogen did. she was fearne. she loved everyone, all the same, didn’t she? ‘we can have girls night whenever you want.’

[batwingsandblackcats]

Been thinking a lot about Laudna, Imogen, Delilah and Ludinus today.

Particularly the fact that Dani pointed out that Delilah is the only one who has said that separating her from Laudna would kill Laudna.

I’m real tired and this is maybe a little half baked but if I’m remembering correctly, Delilah really only started saying this in the context of other people. As far as we know, Laudna never contemplated the possibility of getting rid of Delilah before meeting Imogen and then the Hells, so this conversation was a moot point until the last couple years in-game.

But the thing I find really interesting about all of this is that Delilah tends to bring up the “if I die, she dies” thing to Imogen specifically, or to Imogen and Laudna as a unit, or to one of them in the context of the other, and I feel like that says something very interesting about the way Delilah views/expresses love and agency.

I think Delilah fundamentally misunderstands two very important things:

1. Delilah fundamentally misunderstands how Imogen loves.

Delilah went to extreme lengths to bring Sylas back after he died, and while he was apparently fine with that, she didn’t actually ask him. Unless there’s some unreleased lore somewhere where she and Sylas discussed things before he died, she didn’t actually get consent from him.

I think Delilah is banking on Imogen behaving the way she did when she lost Sylas. I think she’s either expecting that Imogen would go to extreme lengths to bring Laudna back, by force if necessary, or she’s expecting Imogen to not want to risk it in the first place. At this point in time I think it’s the latter, considering the context of the upcoming ritual. I’m sure she knows by now that Imogen desperately wants Delilah and Laudna separated, but I think Delilah is banking on the possibility of losing Laudna being enough of a deterrent for Imogen to keep her from actually trying.

Delilah was only there for the part where Imogen said she would do anything to get Laudna back, she wasn’t there when Imogen gave Laudna the choice to stay dead if she really wanted to. Delilah doesn’t seem to understand that Imogen will do anything for Laudna, including let her go if that would truly bring Laudna peace, even if that would destroy Imogen.

2. Delilah fundamentally cannot fathom Laudna having agency.

Obviously, Delilah views herself as above Laudna, and better than Laudna in every way. Before Laudna died, Delilah more than likely viewed her as a poor, uneducated girl with very narrow options in life, and after Laudna died, as a dead woman trying to and often unable to make ends meet, make connections, or get ahead in life at all.

The events of Laudna's life have not afforded her much in the way of agency, even in the parts where Delilah wasn't present.

But, Laudna still had this spark of potential, so Delilah pounced.

The whole toxic/abusive relationship thing has been discussed in the context of these two before for obvious reasons. Delilah took advantage of a woman with few options in life and has spent the last 30 years keeping Laudna in a mindset of low self worth to make sure she stayed pliable and usable in that way.

One thing about all of this though, and I've seen one person mention this, but it's not that widely discussed, is that Delilah has also been alone with Laudna for 30 years. She has also been deeply isolated for 30 years. And I think that's warped her perspective a little.

I don't think Delilah has ever lost sight of the fact that Laudna has this untapped potential, she's said on multiple occasions that she wants to do terrible and beautiful things with Laudna. But on some level, I wonder if she, in her extreme, extended isolation and single-minded determination to come back via Laudna, has done the thing where the abuser inadvertently succeeds in gaslighting themselves into genuinely believing that the person they are abusing will be completely non-functional without them.

I wonder if Delilah is playing a game of chance here, trying to scare Laudna and her friends enough so they won't try to get rid of her, or if she genuinely believes that Laudna literally can't live without her.

Delilah hasn't seemed terribly threatened by that fact that Imogen and the Hells have repeatedly encouraged Laudna's agency and expressed to her over and over again that she is powerful on her own, that she doesn't need Delilah. Delilah has definitely reinforced the opposite, but that's more like...maintenance. Routine degradation to keep Laudna down.

Aside from the occasional poke after Laudna has a conversation about all of this with Imogen or one of the Hells, I don't think Delilah sees a need to really go all out in counteracting specific bits of growth on Laudna's part. I think that she believes that Laudna is too far gone for any encouragement to stick.

I think Delilah only brings up the "if I die, she dies" in the context of other people, because she thinks that's the only time it matters. To Delilah, Laudna doesn't have any agency, so why would she have any kind of opinion on this?

And here's where this intersects with Ludinus.

I couldn't figure out why I believed Ludinus when he said, rather dismissively, that he could totally separate Laudna and Delilah without killing Laudna, but it hit me when I was in the shower, of all places.

Ludinus spent that conversation switching between talking to the Hells, and talking to Delilah directly. He knows her, they were in the Assembly together, and they weren't exactly friends. Ludinus doesn't have friends.

Ludinus is smart. He knows he's smart. He also has an ego the size of Exandria and he is deeply invested in his own intelligence. The man is trying to kill the gods to make a point.

Ludinus might be totally fine with mass manipulation and subterfuge on a large scale (the various lies he sowed to get people to join the Vanguard, etc) but that is, in many ways, detached from him. It's a means to an end, it gets the job done. But in one on one conversations, when he talks to the Hells, he's very open, seemingly honest. This reminds me of something Brennan said in a Worlds Beyond Number talkback episode recently about the persuasiveness of openness, how honesty can make peoples' guards come down.

Genuinely, I don't think he sees any reason to lie to the Hells because he is so steadfastly sure that his view is The Correct View, and the sheep just need to be lead to pasture and then They'll See.

But also, Delilah was present when he said that it wouldn't be a problem to separate her from Laudna, so that Laudna could go on and live a life free of Delilah.

Ludinus is smart, and he needs everyone else to know he's smart, and he's not going to derive any satisfaction from getting in a dig at Delilah if he can't back it up.

let's hope I'm not super fucking wrong in a few hours, lmao.

[ratinayellowbandana]

every time I’m like “surely this is the decline of my interest in critrole. nothing major has happened for a couple months, and I’m fine with my low level of engagement. maybe I’ll explore other things! :D”

and then imogen and laudna have one (1) direct conversation and I’m back here like a cat that just heard the can of wet food open from across the house

[picturesofthegoneworlds]

When Imogen wakes it is with an ache in her neck

a drop into reality unusually cushioned

a hand combing through her hair

and she can’t help the smile that breaks when she meets Laudna’s watchful eyes peering down at her, flushes shortly after.

“Sorry, did I fall asleep?”

Laudna smiles back at her, halts the hand playing with her hair.

“You did.”

An unspoken mutual agreement allows the moment to stretch in silence –

that or time is still fucky from Imogen only just waking up. It gives her enough of it to contemplate.

The sun must be high, the atmosphere muggy and the fauna all bustling as if it were a market day and the critters had stalls to set up and produce to bring home for their litters in the burrows. She feels the layer of sweat on her skin wherever the sun directly touches it, smells in waves where it heats the floor and diffuses the groundcover as if it were potpourri-

Above her, backlit - Laudna’s wearing a halo. The giant leaves of the giant trees are so high above them that the scale almost looks normal, the light breaking between the canopy in beams, sparkling in places where it catches insect wings and pollen, silhouetting edges of wiry strands of hair that act as though curtains on a canopy bed, all giving cover from the storm (should it come). It all feels so hazy, could be the vision starting to turn to grains of sand in her eyes like before a migraine but it’s also unusually clear, her head weightless despite the aching neck – funny what a handful of hours of good sleep can do.

The unspoken mutual agreement is ended.

“Did you rest well?” what did you dream about?

“I did, yeah...”

Unintentional, excusable really - waking with her defences down.

Wouldn’t be outta the ordinary to share.

“…dreamt we were back at Oddrún’s, was nice-” she withholds the details, just to save a little face. Exposes it anyhow, when she finds herself inadvertently taking the hand that had stilled in her hair, holding her palm up above her head with Laudna's lying flat on top of it “-then the roof caved in again and the place got swarmed with birds.”

“Birds?”

Imogen's thumb traces the knife-edge of the long nail on Laudna’s.

“Birds.” Imogen confirms, distracted, half-awake, giddy. The word already sounds funny; thrown back and forth between them. She chuckles at how her lips form around the repetition of it, says it again in Marquesian to see if it feels as abstract- that causes Laudna to quirk her brow from behind the fan of their fingers. “All different kinds, real cute and stuff, mostly. Place got furnished in feathers, was pretty chaotic - parakeets nestin’ in the cups and saucers and kingfishers in the rafters…” Laudna exhales a single syllable of a choral chuckle and Imogen has never felt so relaxed. “There was a kinda shady lookin’ big one standin’ on one leg in the corner by the hearth though, kept squawkin’.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, think it was a shoebill. You ever seen one of those?”

“You know, I’m not sure. I wonder if there was any significance…”

Their fingers interlace, under Laudna's initiative. Imogen stares at the long nails now reaching to her wrist like plates of fine ebony gauntlets.

“I could try draw it for y’all, but I don’t think it’d help…” comes out audibly distracted, the points of Laudna's talons gently making contact with Imogen's scarred skin-

“Allow me to get my notebook~” Laudna enthusiastically sings – nearly cutting Imogen, their hands separating - and Imogen is left staring at the empty space that was occupied by the shape that the two of them made, wonders if there is a word for that, like ‘bird’ - each hand a wing of some amalgamation, dream chimera, released between palms.

Probably a word she doesn’t have the language for.

Laudna unthreaded their hands and after that, she doesn’t move.

Imogen remembers her position in her lap

sits up abruptly on her bedroll, turning back towards Laudna’s skirts with the same instinct as for making a bed

“No, really, I can’t draw. It’ll just be embarrassin’. It won’t help any.”

“It’s good to draw regardless-”

Imogen would call what falls on Laudna’s face a pout. Hates that she is, unsurprisingly, intrigued to see what lines the pages of Laudna’s notebook. Apparently hearing inside her head is not enough.

Greedy. (maybe she’s hungry?). Gods, Laudna’s been sat cross-legged with Imogen's thick heavy skull in her lap for hours. How does Imogen show her gratitude?

“-have you even eaten? I should make us breakfast.”

She clumsily scatters away before Laudna has the chance to really answer.

(thanks as always to @distant--shadow for the illustrations <3)

[dadrielle]

look I know that we can probably just assume that Laudna grabbed her shirt on the way out but I’m pretty sure based on what was SAID? She left it in that basement.

So. Consider this option.

(Fearne is also naked but she’s a horse so it’s fine)

[widogaspmauk]

Spoilers ahead. You’ve been warned.

I hate that Fearne took the shard so quickly. I’m fine with her getting it. It totally makes sense. I get that. But she didn’t want it. She told everyone that over the course of the last day or two. She didn’t want it. Then Imogen says she’s disappointed in her and suddenly the next conversation she says she changed her mind. It should have been a discussion. I can’t help but feel like she was guilted into taking the shared by Imogen and Laudna and I hate that. Both as a viewer and for Fearne. She deserved better.

And I hate Imogen and Laudna pushing Fearne and Ashton together like they’re fated mates. It’s so fucking uncomfortable. Neither of them seem interested in that at the moment and sure, I ship Ashrym, but if I shipped Callowmoore I’d also hate it. Cause if anything, this is going to push them apart and make a relationship between the two less likely to happen.

And fucking Orym… my precious dude… you need to speak up. He was visibly uncomfortable when Fearne agreed to take the shard and after during the they should kiss conversation. You gotta speak up for yourself.

Honestly, it feels like they’ve learned nothing from this trip. It was a complete waste of time and the only thing accomplished was getting the shard absorbed so it couldn’t be stolen.

Idk I’m in my feels today.

[zalou]

As for some reason this whole episode was extremely controversial (and I dunno why, the players know these characters much better than us, they are just doing what their characters would do, whether it is the “right thing” or not), here are my thoughts on C3 E78.

I think every reaction of the characters was just a valid emotional response to something stressful that happened. Even if hypocritical (others have also lost control and done stupid shit etc), it is logical to be angry/stressed/scared because your friend almost blew himself up. Or DID blow himself up. We saw that happen, that is incredibly traumatic. And I think the reason why everyone is more emotional this time around is because they were almost completely helpless and having to watch Ashton do this to himself, (at least in their eyes) voluntarily.

They don’t understand why he did what he did and their emotions react to the conclusions they subconsciously make about Ashtons motives. Of course Laudna thinks it is a betrayal, a voice in her head has been talking about it to her non-stop. Of course FCG thinks it was a selfish action, because he doesn’t understand how Ashton’s insecurities and anxiety manifests (and of course he doesn’t, because Ashton hasn’t talked about it). And of course everyone was angry, because Ashton apparently (in their eyes) thought leaving them, possibly dying, was worth taking the risk on this unstable power. And I think none of those things were actually Ashton’s intention, but that is what the stressed-out emotional response was in the other characters around (to the best of how I can unpack it, at least).

And yes, Fearne definitely has partial blame for what happened but that doesn’t mean her emotional response to being scared out of her mind is invalid. She was scared to death because of almost having lost Ashton because of something stupid they did (keep in mind, Fearne is bad with consequences so she probably didn’t even think of how bad this could all turn out) and her reaction to that fear is “how dare you almost die on me, I’m gonna kill you”, which I think is a valid reaction (not the killing of course, but the overwhelming anger and aggression yes). She might have to be just as angry towards herself as she is towards Ashton, but her anger in itself isn’t invalid. And I think she is also angry at herself, that she let this all happen.

And for how emotional everything was, I think some of the characters managed to defuse the situation pretty well. They got emotions for everyone down pretty quick and made a rational decision on how to move forward now trust has been broken on many sides. So I think all of our bells hells are going to be fine after some conversations.

Anyways, I think the role play was fucking great (I missed Liam, he would have shined here). For the characters (and us) to understand where all these reactions came from, they are just gonna have to have a big talk about it. Do some development in their relationships. Get more emotionally mature. Hopefully this nana morri resort is gonna give all of them some time to work this out. A lot of mistakes were made to let all of this happen, and to make sure they don’t happen again these idiot characters I love so much gotta TALK TO EACHOTHERRRR. TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS YOU LOVABLE IDIOTS.

Anyways, that was my little (long) piece on the situation.

[angrydemonfawnbaby]

look while ashton doesn’t strike me as possessive they also do not strike me as the type to just jump into romantic shit casually. our only frame of reference for this is sally (i think, i could be misremembering) from the nobodies and what little we know of that relationship. but it’s the only romantic relationship ashton’s alluded to thus far and even that only came after some prodding. when ashton sees sally again, it’s tense. they swing on her for suggestion that he would’ve left her in the street dying if the roles were reversed.

it’s fearne that asks ashton if they’ve ever been in love. and ashton’s answer is illuminating i think, especially as a callowmoore shipper in the wake of the “sister” comment. they say they don’t know and fearne agrees that it’s very hard to know sometimes. ashton says they thought they were, but they don’t know if they actually were. he says “sometimes it is very easy to misconstrue friendship for love, lust for love—it’s very amorphous, i have a hard time defining it.”

(this is immediately followed by laudna saying she’s never been in love either, and then immediately saying that’s not true because she deeply loves imogen…who she later calls her sister…who she later kisses…so.)

anyway what i am getting at is in the same conversation ashton and fearne both admit to not knowing or understanding love in the romantic sense. friendship and lust, sure, but love is confusing.

and then ashton and fearne and the group as a whole grow closer. friendship happens, and friendship can be confused for love as ashton has experienced and admitted already. and then fearne and chetney happen, and they happen after fearne kisses ashton on the cheek, and they happen while ashton and the other half of the group are Having A Bad Time. but they happen, and that’s lust, and fearne has already said she’d probably make her way through the whole group eventually, and so maybe ashton is thinking that’s just what this is for fearne. especially after she makes a deal with a hot devil and then spends the night with a ghost pirate. fearne is flirty. fearne comes across as fickle. and that’s fine. i’m not saying ashton is jealous or judging, because i don’t think they are. but maybe ashton doesn’t want to confuse friendship and lust with love again, especially since it ended with him being abandoned last time, and the stakes of everything are so much higher this time. and maybe the everyone saying the two of them should fuck to awaken the shards is just confusing friendship and lust and love and ashton has a hard time defining love already.

so he defines it as sister, because it’s maybe the least confusing option. and it’s the option that gets everyone else to shut up.

[ofdarkestdesires]

Alright! So, now that we have the full line-up of the Level 10 Bell’s Hells artwork, I think it’s about time I sat down and gave my personal opinions that nobody asked for about everyone’s styles.

Chetney Pock'o'pea

While I appreciate the more active pose and visible armor as opposed to his more unassuming original design, I am very off-put that he completely abandoned his original color scheme and all shreds of his original aesthetic. I also think the tracksuit is a bit much—listen, I’m a fan of toeing the line of what fashion belongs in a fantasy setting, but I’m pretty sure this fully vaulted over the it and did a full backflip and three-point landing into ridiculous. 3/10

And unfortunately, the same must be said for his Lycan form. This artwork feels like a serious downgrade from the original Chetwolf, which honestly filled me with a shock of horror each time he popped up. The only reason it is higher than base-Chet is that Chetwolf is still a werewolf, and werewolves are badass. 4/10

Laudna

Laudna, on the otherhand, is a total glow-up from her original design. Everything about her design ties together and brings in perfectly her aesthetic and backstory, from the haunting tree embroidery on her dress (akin to the Sun Tree she was hung from) to the little Pate birdhouse backpack (an homage to the Baba Yaga forest witch imagery she picked up), all the while looking so much like the elegant and imposing Delilah Briarwood. Easy 10/10 for me.

Fresh Cut Grass (F.C.G.)

F.C.G.'s new art...isn't bad, but I'm not as wowed by it as some others on this list. Something has clearly changed here in the choice to include his new blue jacket, and I approve! I'm also a fan of the wires having more definition and appearing more purposefully stylized, as if he's taking better care of himself...but the pose and the style just feel a bit lacking to me. 5/10

Fearne Calloway

Honestly, my only gripe with this outfit is the upper-half of her bustier. It feels very cluttered and like there is a lot of fine detail that just ends up being all meshed together. That would be my other only other gripe, too—there's a lot of small, fine details here that makes her feel cluttered. Which, honestly, fits her as the sneaky little hoarder that she is! But yeah, I would've done something else, something cleaner, with the upper half of her bodice. Also, while I know she is a Druid, I don't think she needs the plant growth on her legs... 8/10

Imogen Temult

I would just like to point out that this outfit was unveiled to us as Imogen's choice for winter-wear while traveling through the Crystal Sands Tundra. Is it sexy? Definitely. Is it my personal taste? Mm, not really, but I can see the appeal. Am I upset that even after the semi-canonization of her needing glasses, this bitch is still not a sexy glasses-wearing nerd? Absolutely—but the biggest sin this outfit does is fail to be climate-accurate. -1/10 for improper environment protection, and 7/10 for the outfit itself.

Orym, Savior Blade of the Tempest

I am incredibly torn here. Because, when it comes down to the armor itself, this is a clear winner. Orym's new uniform is a perfect upgrade from his original more humble and simple apparel, becoming much more about function and protection, while still retaining his svelte and limber appearance. The noted upgrade to Seedling is also nice, though I wish it was a bit more pronounced. What pulls me back from really loving this design, though, is his proportions—I feel like his head is way too big, or his limbs are way too skinny. Over all, I have to give this an 8/10.

Ashton Greymoore

Remember at the start how I said I'm all for toeing the line of what fashion belongs in fantasy settings? Yeah, this fucks! From the first episode, we knew that Ashton was a punk, and this just picks that up and runs with it in such a cool, fun way. I legitimately want this entire outfit—fuck cosplay, I'd just wear this irl! It leans enough on his old design to be recognizable, but pops out as truly his own. And the hammer looks wild—I can't wait to see that thing really pop off like crazy in the next fight. Definitely a 10/10 from me!

[southern-gothic-comic]

Page 41

Next 💜 Back 🖤 First

(Author Notes)

Panel 1: Returning to the Temult homestead, they are met at the gate by Imogen’s father.

Relvin: Genny? Didn't expect to see you so early. Everything all right?

Laudna: Imogen has the plague!

Imogen: Laudna, it’s fine, I’m sure I don’t have the plague . . .

Relvin: Damn. I heard there was fever of some kind goin’ around.

Panel 2: He looks down in concern at Imogen, who is rapidly wilting in Laudna’s arms, and opens the gate.

Relvin: Take her inside. I’ll go fetch Dr. Bowen.

Panel 3: Inside, Laudna struggles up the attic stairs, half-carrying Imogen.

Panel 4: In her room. Imogen holds on to Laudna’s neck for support while she helps her into a nightgown. As she pulls it over her head there is evidence of a patchy red rash overspreading her arms, shoulders, and back.

Imogen: Don’t let my dad cut my hair. He’s gonna say it’s gotta come off. Don’t let him cut my hair, Laudna.

Laudna: I will protect it with my life.

Panel 5: Laudna puts her to bed, tucking her in with her venerable patchwork plush horse. Imogen reaches out listlessly for her.

Laudna: Rest now, darling. Everything’s going to be all right.

Imogen: I don’t . . . I don’t want to go to sleep.

Laudna: I know. But you need rest.

Imogen: Will you stay with me?

Laudna: Of course.

Panel 6: The oil lamp beside the bed has been dimmed and there is a folded damp towel laid over Imogen’s eyes. Laudna sits beside the bed, holding her hand. Outside, the sun gets lower.

Panel 7: Finally, it sets. They are still alone.

[lespetitesmortsde]

short hair laudna? it's been making the rounds

It's been a minute since you sent this, but yes, love short-haired Laudna. This takes place circa episode 65 with (apparently) some elements of 77 thrown in. Now, here's the thing. I fully intended this to be a short and fluffy little thing. We're talking like the 1,000 words realm of things, if that.

What happened, you see, is that Laudna went "what if we had a long overdue conversation?" and Imogen laughed at me. So instead, you get this thing which has some light-heartedness and they at least start to discuss some feelings in the kitchen because conversing in the kitchen is domestic AF and I love that for them.

For full disclosure, I haven't seen episode 77 yet, but I have been informed that there are some similar themes/topics happening.

You can read it on AO3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51582754

Call Me a Midlife Crisis

It was getting late. Imogen craned her neck to see a few extra inches to the left through the window in Zhudanna’s kitchen. Laudna should’ve been back by now.

She’d just gone into the market for a couple of crafting supplies, she’d said. “Oh, just a bit of string, maybe some yarn, and of course I need to see what they have for fabrics now. They were awfully short when we were here last.”

Imogen had offered to accompany her, given how easy navigating the populace was now that she’s got the circlet on, but Laudna had gently rejected her offer. She’d wanted to pick something up for Imogen, too, and didn’t want her spoiling the surprise.

So, knowing Laudna as well as she does, it should’ve taken her two hours, three at most to get caught up in all the market’s offerings and make her way back. She was passing the four and a half hour mark.

“Do you want me to make you some tea, dear?” Zhudanna’s voice floated into the kitchen from the sitting room doorway. Imogen whirled around to meet her knowing eye.

“Oh, no, I’m okay, I’m sure everything’s fine,” Imogen lied, fighting to keep the trembling out of her vowels. Zhudanna didn’t need to know that every passing minute exacerbated her anxiety about Laudna’s safety.

“Well, alright dear, have a nice evening,” Zhudanna said and a few moments later Imogen heard the door to her room click shut.

Imogen looked over to the armchair in the sitting room where she’d been waiting for the first three hours. Her book still lay open on the end table, spine broken, and her glasses were haphazardly tossed beside it. She couldn’t even remember what was in the chapters she’d read.

Her fingers felt empty without Laudna nearby to hold, to reach for. The room felt cold without her constant movement, her fidgeting, the way her fingers moved relentlessly against her skirt, her hair, Imogen.

She reconsidered, for the sixth time, Sending to Laudna. Just to check in, make sure she’s alright. It had worked once over a short distance, even with Ruidus fucking things up. Maybe it would work again. And if it gave her a headache, that was fine, that would be worth it if it could confirm that Laudna was okay. That she was safe and on her way home.

Holding the bloodwell vial in her hand, she felt the prickle of power gathering at the ends of her fingers. Just as she reached to cast the spell, the front door opened and Laudna’s voice sang into the house, “Oh, Imogen!”

The spell fizzled out at her fingertips before she could fully let the magic out to cast it.

Imogen whipped her head over to the door so fast, lightning wavered at the edges of her eyesight. The relief she felt when she finally got her eyes on Laudna was an immediate balm and then her attention was taken instead by the shocking lack of hair against her shoulders.

Her mouth dropped open in a soft, “Oh,” as her eyes raked respectfully over the newly-exposed skin of Laudna’s neck, no longer covered with long black hair. Some of her hair was still pulled back into a loose bun held aloft with her favoured rock chisel, but her hair stopped short just past her chin. The streak of white had place of pride, no longer lost in the ocean of dark hair.

Imogen peeled her eyes away from the change to take in the rest of Laudna. She had one bag of purchases in hand and wore a shy smile on her face as she drank in Imogen’s expressions.

“I see you’ve noticed,” Laudna gestured to the new length with her free hand.

Imogen nodded dumbly, eyes wide, unable to string together any words at all.

Laudna’s expression turned fragile and hesitant. “Do you dislike it?” She entered the kitchen, still several feet from Imogen, and placed her bag on the counter.

And of course that would be Laudna’s automatic assumption, of fuckin’ course she’d automatically assume that Imogen was speechless because she couldn’t find any positive words to say.

It could never be that Laudna looked so gods-damned beautiful with this cute-as-shit new haircut that Imogen was scared she’d melt right into Zhudanna’s floorboards.

“Oh, honey,” Imogen said softly, rushing up to Laudna. “You look gorgeous,” the words tumbled out of her and Laudna lit up like her Dancing Lights. “I mean,” Imogen felt the blush warm her skin from chest to cheek, “you always look beautiful, sweetheart, but this suits you so well.”

Imogen wanted to savour the purple hue that adorned Laudna’s cheeks. “Are you sure? It was kind of an impulsive thing, thought a bit of a change could do me some good, you know?”

Laudna laughed and Imogen wanted to bundle it up around her like a comforting blanket. “Besides, I think I’m overdue for a midlife crisis, don’t you think? I’ve died twice, so I can probably have another one soon, too, if I want to. And everyone suggests buying a fancy new wagon or getting a haircut at that stage.” She gave a little twirl, her skirt swishing gently in the wake. “Maybe I’ll look at vehicles or horses next time.”

Imogen stepped right up to Laudna, holding her hand out. “May I?” she asked, looking from Laudna’s eyes to the hair and back.

Laudna’s pleased smile deepened. “Of course, darling, you can touch anytime. You don’t have to ask.”

“I want to,” Imogen replied. “Ask, I mean. Well, l – the touching, too.” She shrugged. “You know that you having choices is important to me.”

“I do,” Laudna said. “And I hope that you know that I will always choose you whenever I have the option.”

Imogen smiled and then brought her fingers to graze the ends of the hair. She ran her fingers lightly through the ends of the tresses. “Do you like it?”

Laudna considered, tilting her head to the side. “I think I do. It feels… freeing, in a way.”

Imogen slipped her fingers against her neck gently, clearly broadcasting her intentions so Laudna could say no.

Laudna didn’t say no. She leaned into the touch of Imogen’s fingertips, bare, warm against her skin.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Imogen whispered, tilting her head up towards Laudna’s.

A wide grin spread across Laudna’s face and Imogen, for just a moment, wished that she didn’t have the circlet on. Wished that she could hear Laudna’s thoughts, dive into them like the ocean and drown in the music.

They have shared several kisses since their first, yesterday, beside the bakery stall. Imogen has been the one leaning in for them more often, asking for them. Laudna has been plenty affectionate back to her, of course, but she hasn’t initiated a kiss since their second one.

Not that Imogen’s been keeping track. Laudna tended to deposit kisses to her hair, her forehead, her cheeks. Sometimes, her lips grazed the backs of Imogen’s knuckles.

And she let the little bubble of insecurity float to the surface.

“Do… do you want to kiss me?” Imogen swallowed the at all that felt like too much at the end of the question.

Laudna reeled like she’d been slapped, the smile evaporating from her face. “What?” She blinked aggressively. “Imogen, do you think I don’t want to kiss you?”

Imogen felt her whole body flush. She admonished herself for being foolish, for being weak. Embarrassment filled all the space in her lungs.

Laudna knew how to understand so much more about Imogen with even less. Laudna pulled away, but didn’t let go of her.

“Oh, darling, I am so sorry that I have made you feel like I don’t want to kiss you.” Her focus on Imogen was intense, relentless. Imogen couldn’t do much else aside from stare back into those wide black eyes, reflecting all the love she felt in her heart.

“I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to be with someone like me, like this,” Laudna said softly. Imogen tensed, refutations surging to her lips.

“Please, darling, let me get this out,” Laudna looked at her knowingly and Imogen deflated, letting the retorts ebb back into the crevices around her heart.

“Nothing would make me happier than to kiss you for the rest of your life,” but there was an ancient sadness in the words, the echoes of loneliness that never went away, that waited for Laudna to return. Imogen abruptly frowned as she realised Laudna’s precise language. Your life.

“But I also understand that it can be jarring… to kiss someone like me. And I love that you’re willing to kiss me, love, how could I not? But I will never expect that of you and I will never force it upon you.” She cleared her throat and looked down at her hands on Imogen’s waist.

Imogen had never struggled so hard to keep her mouth shut.

“And I also understand… that it may not always be what you want. That I may not always be what you want.”

She tasted salt and copper on her tongue as she pulled her teeth out from the particularly bruising puncture wound she’d inflicted on herself.

“And that’s okay,” Laudna said, like it should put Imogen at ease, like it shouldn’t rip her heart out of her chest, still beating. “I will always give you everything in my power, my dear. And I hope you take it. Because you deserve to have a life. After all of this, after everything, you deserve a happy ending.”

Laudna tried to hide a sniffle in a watery chuckle. She shook herself out of it, put a smile on her lips two centimetres too wide.

“Which reminds me, I am sorry for not giving you the choice yesterday. I – I found that I was overcome by my emotions, by your belief in me, by your lovely but misguided opinion that I’m not a bad person, and I acted without thought when I kissed you.”

“Please don’t do that,” Imogen begged, voice thick and tears falling in rivulets down her cheeks. Her scars glowed dimly. “Please don’t apologise for kissing me, for showing me that you love me.”

“But Imogen –”

“No ‘but’s, Laudna. I don’t think I could take it if you were sorry about kissin’ me.”

“I – it’s – I’m just sorry I forced it on you!” Laudna spluttered.

Imogen was shaking her head before Laudna even finished. “If that was you forcing something on me, I want you to do that forever,” Imogen declared, eyes bright. “For all of your life.”

“Imogen–” Breathless, sad, maybe a little shocked.

“No, no, you got your turn to say something, now I’m gettin’ mine,” Imogen interrupted. “How do I get it through your thick, beautiful head that I love you?”

Reprimanded, just a little bit, Laudna argued, “I know that you love me.”

Imogen shook her head. “Okay, you know I love you, but I don’t think you understand what that means.”

Imogen ran her hands through Laudna’s shortened hair again and then placed her hands on each of Laudna’s cheeks. “Sweetheart, I love you so much.” She paused, caught herself, because she didn’t want to give Laudna any space to misinterpret what she was saying.

“I am so in love with you that my heart feels like it will burst when we’re this close,” she gestured to the mere inches between them. “Hell, even when we’re just in the same room and we make eye contact.”

Her eyes blazed into Laudna’s who didn’t seem able to move her focus away from Imogen. Imogen placed her hands on Laudna’s waist.

“I am so in love with you that I wish I could crawl into your chest and settle right down beside your hound and make my home within your branches and bones.” Laudna’s eyes were glassy, her jaw tight.

“I didn’t have much of a life before you, Laudna, and I wouldn’t have much of one after you, either – except I’m not going to let there be an after. Do you hear me? I don’t want an after; I won’t accept it. You are not one stop on my road to happiness.” She tried to let that sink in.

“Laudna, you’re the journey and the destination.” Imogen swallowed, soothing her suddenly dry mouth.

“I don’t have a happy ending unless you’re in it. I don’t want anything except for you.” She brought a hand back up to Laudna’s cheek. “So fuck Delilah if she’s back. She can’t have you. I won’t let her. I will do everything in my power – I will find a way to get that bitch out of your head.”

They let her words hang in the air for a moment.

“And what if she’s what’s keeping me… undead?” The fear is whispered into the scant space between them but it fills the entire room with a dull heaviness.

“We’ll find a way,” Imogen’s voice left no room for argument, before turning fierce. “You’re mine, Laudna, for as long as you want to be. And I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Ichor ran down Laudna’s cheeks. “Imogen,” the word so soft it barely disturbed the air. “Darling,” her voice was stronger now, she took Imogen’s hands in her own. “I’m already dead.”

A sob tore itself from Imogen’s throat. “No, you’re not!”

Laudna smiled sadly. “I am, Imogen. And I’m worried, as you might suspect, that you don’t really understand that.”

“Laudna, Laudna, Laudna,” her name left Imogen’s lips so quickly, like a fevered prayer. “You have died, I know that. Twice. And I know it was my fault the second time–”

“It wasn’t your fault, dearest, it was Otohan’s. Never yours,” Laudna’s voice was assertive, calm – everything that Imogen’s wasn’t in this moment.

“It was my fault. She knew. She knew I loved you, more than anything. Knew, somehow, that you’re my favourite part about the world.”

Indulgent, that’s the best word Imogen could find to describe Laudna’s face. “That’s very kind of you, Imogen, but that still doesn’t make it your fault. Otohan would’ve killed us all.”

Imogen needed her to understand. “But she killed you to get me to break – and I did Laudna, as soon as she threatened you, I folded like a sheet in the wind. And she killed you anyway.” She couldn’t stop crying.

“Exactly, darling,” Laudna’s voice was soothing. “It wasn’t about you. It was about her. It wasn’t your fault.” Her grip tightened around Imogen’s wrists. “The blame, the guilt you feel is misplaced, dearest.” She laughed, but there was no humour in it. “If you want to talk about fault and endangering the other, I think we both know that crown is mine.”

The mental image of Laudna in a crown, looking regal and – fuck – only distracted Imogen for a moment. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Laudna spoke so gently and her grip on Imogen’s wrists loosened. “Darling, if one of us is guilty of constantly putting the other in danger, surely you see it’s me? With her in my head? I broke your rock because of her.”

There has been enough time and distance since those horrible few days where Imogen was reeling from the betrayal she had never expected that Imogen was now able to see the truth. “Laudna, she broke the rock, not you. And it might’ve been a good thing to get it away from me, I don’t know. But you didn’t do that, sweetheart, she did.”

“Isn’t that worse? To know that I can’t stop her, that at any moment she can come out to play and there’s nothing I can do about it?”

“She needs you, Laudna. Whatever she does in your body, that’s what she does, not you. You’re not to blame for Delilah’s nonsense.” Imogen brought one of Laudna’s hands to her lips and kissed her fingertips. “You’re not the same and we’ll find a way to separate the two of you.”

Imogen wet her lips as Laudna took that all in. She looked at the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life beside and said, “I promise. You’ll get to live a life without her.”

Laudna looked down at her with ichor-welling eyes. Imogen faltered. “If – if you want to, that is, you don’t have to. But I’ll make sure you get the option.”

Imogen reached up and wiped away the ichor from Laudna’s face. Laudna leaned in against the press of her hand and held Imogen’s gaze. “Imogen, there is nothing in the world I could want more than a real, normal lifetime with you.”

“I want to kiss you,” Imogen said, smiling at the way Laudna lit up. “And if you want to kiss me, too, ever, there is nothing I would love more than you takin’ the initiative.”

“Are you sure, darling?” The words were hesitant, but Laudna sounded less convinced now than she’d been earlier that Imogen couldn’t possibly want to kiss a dead person.

“Do you want me to come kiss you? When I want to? Without asking?” Imogen asked instead.

Laudna nodded. “Of course.”

Imogen grinned victoriously. “Right back at’cha, sweetheart.”

She watched as Laudna seemed to go back and forth with herself and Imogen wondered idly, if she didn’t have the circlet, if she would have been able to build her mental walls well enough to stay out of Laudna’s thoughts. If they’d be too loud for her to stay away from.

“You’ll tell me, though? If you ever don’t want that? If you change your mind? I’d understand.” Laudna said, clenching and unclenching her fingers in between them.

“It won’t happen,” Imogen assured her, “but if it’ll make you feel better, then yes, of course I will.”

“You deserve options, Imogen,” Laudna stressed.

“I want you,” Imogen countered. “Gods know I don’t deserve you, but I want you anyway,” she said forcefully. “I don’t need any other options.”

Laudna was too busy sputtering, “You don’t – you don’t deserve me?”

But Imogen was ready for her, expected the response as much as she hoped it wouldn’t come. “Of course not. You coming into my life was the most important thing to happen to me. Ever. You are so kind and generous and wonderful and good, Laudna. I don’t understand how everyone isn’t in love with you, but I am so happy they aren’t.” She chuckled. “I’m so thankful those assholes don’t understand what they’re passin’ up, because it means I get to have more time with you and I am so selfish when it comes to you, honey.”

The flickering candles reflected their light in Laudna’s shimmering eyes and Imogen watched with hope as Laudna’s eyes closed and she rushed forward to kiss Imogen.

Imogen felt those cool lips on hers, felt long fingers slide along her scalp down behind her ear. She gasped at the gentle pressure Laudna exerted to pull Imogen’s mouth more ardently against hers.

She responded in kind, wound her fingers in the new length of Laudna’s hair, pulling her in. Their mouths moved against each other. Imogen nipped softly at Laudna’s lower lip, wrenching a rough hum of delight from that pale throat.

Imogen wondered what other noises she could pull from Laudna, what kind of orchestra she could conduct with this glorious woman as her instrument. She tugged slowly but firmly on the locks of hair still wrapped up in her hand.

A whimper. Imogen pulled back, to check, to make sure Laudna was okay, that she didn’t go too far. Laudna looked down at her, like prey staring down their hunter, as Imogen breathed heavily.

“Was that okay?” Imogen asked, keeping her hand in this new short hair that she loved.

Laudna licked her lips. “Do it again.”