seasinkarnadine

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BOOP

#boop

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Im gonna win at booping, something that is both possible to do and normal to want

#april fools #april fool's 2024 #boop

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“this is just facebook poking but with paws” okay AND???? get booped idiot

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So much stronger than the pity is the HUNGER.

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Delilah going from: "your friends are weak, that power should be ours" to: "Get the power to protect them, and protect HER" is so smart and fucked up

Good news is Laudna is not yet ready to give herself up, she shows doubts about Ms D. and knows that there is no future in only consuming and making her powerful, but if Delilah keeps driving that "Protect her or avenge her" point...

yeah... Its gonna get juicy

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https://www.tumblr.com/salora-rainriver/743031690655596545/what-is-this-about-the-tumblr-staff-wanting-to

Glaze or Nightshade your posts as soon as you can. This might just be rumors but even so

Oof. Thanks for the tip.

#fuck ai #ai #ask #salora-rainriver #art

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One day she asks him "who am I?" and he can't remember her name, can't even remember who she is, but still he smiles and says, "someone who loves me."

She goes to sleep that night with an empty belly and a smile on her face.

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always watching

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“Come love, make me better than I was. Come teach me a kinder way to say my own name.”

- Andrea Gibson, from "Good Light," Lord of the Butterflies

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LAUDNA LYING IN THE BURNED-DOWN REMAINS OF HER HOVEL, HUGGING A DOLL SHE MADE OF A FRIEND WHO SHE FEELS BETRAYED HER, WHILE DELILAH BRIARWOOD HUGS HER WITH THE SURROUNDING SHADOWS. I HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO ADD HERE.

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Obsessed with the cold slow realisation coming over Imogen as Delilah tells them about her desire to outlive history and it really hitting home that Laudna is her conduit for that. That even if they manage to defeat Predathos, Laudna is still going to be frozen in time, ageless as Imogen grows old without her.

And that grim determination that she won’t let it happen, whatever it takes she is going to sunder Delilah again so Laudna can be free.

‘I don’t accept it - not from you, Laudna’

Laura.

Bailey.

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pastel goth girlies

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laudna with short hair beloved

i drew this bc i saw this tweet and i couldn't get the idea out of my head. thank u twitter user beaujes

#laudna #she.... #yeah okay i love this #cr3 #critical role

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sad kiss imodna?

imogen looked for laudna in the reading nook where they’d first met the kid. she’s almost certain she’d find her there—laudna had a habit of poking bruises, and this one was going to sting for a while.

the room was roughly square. a few desks lined the walls; one of those round lights was ensconced above each of them but were dimmed now. beyond the desks was a small maze of bookshelves. imogen moved past them. she did nothing to disguise her approach, the click of her boots against stone, swish of her dress, the mental crackle of her searching mind. the far wall of the room curved slightly—they must be in the base of the tower—and cut out from the grey stone was a door leading to a small balcony. there, just as imogen suspected, stood laudna. hands resting on the balustrade, she stared out across the rapidly darkening city. imogen joined her. they watched together, enraptured, as an energy seemed to flow through the city streets and, one by one, glowing streetlights began to stir like stars in their infancy.

‘she’s alright,’ imogen said eventually. ‘fearne stayed a bit longer to see if she could lure her out but i think she’s done for today.’

‘that’s good,’ laudna said, very quietly. ‘fearne is fun—gwendolyn will feel comfortable with her.’

‘you’re fun too.’

it didn’t reassure as imogen hoped it would. laudna’s smile trembled like the last leaf of autumn, its drop imminent. she said nothing.

it might have been wise to look around for any of their friends, but imogen wasn’t all that bothered if they saw. soon enough, they were going to leave the planet and she had no bets on what would happen after that. here and now, she found she wasn’t that concerned with their friends finding out what they’d suspected since meeting her—that she was in love with laudna, that they were an item, that given half the chance and a moment of peace imogen would give into the urge to step closer to laudna and, hand against her cheek, turn her eyes ever so gently away from the city.

‘can i kiss you?’ she asked.

laudna lifted a hand to press imogen’s, to keep it where it was.

‘you’re trying to distract me.’

‘yeah, i am. is that okay?’

laudna nodded. there was a smudge beneath her eyes where she had wiped black tears. imogen leaned in, touched her lips to laudna’s cheek. it warmed beneath her attention, part blush, part the singe of her own power.

‘imogen…’ disappointment - hope - crept over her name.

she smiled. ‘it’s alright, honey. properly now, i promise.’

imogen stepped closer—close enough that laudna had to retreat, though she seemed disinclined, happy to lean into imogen and wrap around her like ivy. when imogen had her crowded against the corner of the railing, though, laudna tensed. imogen pulled and turned, slotted herself against the stone guard, and drew laudna into her.

laudna came willingly, sweetly. she touched imogen’s face and brought their lips together. the kiss was achingly soft. careful. with every shift—the tremble of her own hands, the press of laudna’s lips against her own, tiny testing kisses—imogen could almost sense the repairs. each kiss a stitch in the rip, a brick in the wall. laudna’s taut strings started to relax. she leaned more heavily into imogen and the cautious fingers on her cheek and shoulder warmed, grew a little more brave.

laudna slid a hand around imogen’s waist. the other buried itself in her hair, stroked at her hairline. it was making imogen shiver—the tickle of it, but also the maddening closeness, laudna wrapped all around her, the dual throb of their minds that agreed close wasn’t close enough, the way her nail scraped against the fine hairs of her neck every few touches and imogen let herself imagine it as she kissed laudna more deeply. imagined a sharp nail cutting her, the wet glide of a finger through blood, laudna’s mouth, sharp teeth, how it would feel to be consumed by her, soul and all.

‘imogen,’ laudna gasped. ‘please—‘

‘anything, anything you want,’

hunger lit in laudna’s eyes, bright and wonderful. it worked as the streetlamps did to illuminate her—the sadness, the relief, the love—and the shadows that lingered were less than they were, but darker for all the light.

‘you were remarkable today,’ laudna said, lips dragging against the corner of imogen’s mouth. she kissed her very sweetly and softly, every ounce of it filled with admiration. ‘you are always remarkable but today—that storm—and flying with you—‘ she scratched gently at imogen’s neck. imogen made a sound high in her throat, a breathy whimper; laudna paused, withdrew. ‘did i do that?’

imogen flushed. ‘you - you’re scratching my neck. it’s nice.’

laudna flexed the hand on the back of imogen’s neck, eyes darting there as if only just realising its placement. ‘oh. may i—kiss you there?’

‘oh fuck. yeah, please.’ imogen gripped onto laudna’s waist and hoped to every god there was that she didn’t seem to bloody desperate, tilting her neck to the side. actually, fuck that, she could be desperate if she wanted. so long as laudna didn’t mind. she didn’t seem to mind. laudna inched closer. she was nearly—but not quite—weightless and the slight pressure pushed imogen further against the railing. the stone pushed into her spine, uncomfortable enough to keep imogen in the here and now, which she hoped would be sufficient to keep her from embarrassing herself. all bets were off as laudna leaned in and, without fanfare, kissed imogen’s neck.

imogen groaned, a funny hitched noise. laudna hummed, intrigued, and swiped her tongue against the same spot. imogen swore.

‘oh gods, laud—‘

‘sorry, should i—‘

‘please, keep goin’. if you want.’ when laudna only kissed her neck again in reply, imogen trembled with relief. she gripped the railing with one hand, leaning heavily to give her girlfriend more space to work, and lost her mind a little to the rising shiver working through her body and laudna’s unending attention, the drag of her lips against her skin, sighs getting warmer almost hot as laudna began to warm up, and she cried out, eyes darting open, when laudna scraped sharp teeth across her pulse. imogen’s knees buckled. her gloves creaked as she grabbed the railing hard. head swimming, she shook in laudna’s embrace, whimpered again.

‘you’re so beautiful,’ laudna whispered. ‘so capable, so powerful, gorgeous,’ she insisted, hungry rasp catching in the back of her throat. ‘imogen, my imogen.’ she mouthed at the taut column of imogen’s neck, down, down to the cracks that split her skin. not many made their way past her neckline but there was one scar that splintered past her clavicle. laudna dipped her head and, arm tightening around Imogen’s waist, dragged her tongue along the line of it.

‘oh fuck!’ a bolt of heat shot through imogen. she groaned low, the sound loud enough that laudna drew back, looking faintly surprised. imogen couldn’t meet her eyes just yet—instead pressing her mind out to make sure no one was close enough to witness their private conversation.

‘imogen? darling?’

‘i- that was -‘ imogen laughed a little. ‘if you keep doing that, i’m gonna lose my mind a bit and we’re gonna need to find a room.’ laudna’s mouth shifted to an understanding oh. ‘yeah. and,’ past her own excitement, imogen could see laudna’s hesitation. ‘i don’t think we’re ready for that just yet.’

laudna flushed prettily. ‘perhaps not,’ she agreed. ‘but that was—‘

‘perfect.’

laudna preened a little, pleased. then her attention turned thoughtful, and amused at the edges. ‘you’re a very good distraction,’ she said, almost laughing. very sweetly, adding, ‘and very kind. thank you, imogen.’

imogen wanted to tell her rather fervently that laudna was welcome to ravish her at any time, but withheld. instead, she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind laudna’s ear. brushed the golden cuff with a gentle finger.

‘everything good in me, you gave me. you know that?’ laudna looked like she would argue. imogen shook her head. ‘when we met, i was so tired. i saw the worst in everyone and it hurt, all the time. the things i woulda done for a little peace…’ her voice shook. ‘don’t you for a minute think fun scary laudna isn’t the most important person in the world to me. you let me laugh for the first time in years. you made the world feel like a good place again. you - you saved me, laud,’ she said, as she had the last time they were here in Whitestone, though that time the confession had fallen on dead ears. ‘i’m so lucky. to get to have you with me. no matter what happens,’ she said, and drew laudna in for a kiss.

after their activities here, and the heated feeling in her gut and her words, it was not the most gentle kiss they had shared. part of imogen wanted to burn this knowledge into laudna and she kissed like that, hot and fierce. after a moment, laudna made a noise, a low moan, that shot right through her to her core. imogen pulled back, reluctantly. ‘we should - we should find the others.’

laudna frowned severely. ‘i hate them,’ she muttered, lips twitching upwards when imogen burst into laughter. ‘fine.’ laudna’s fingers skittered over imogen’s face, her smile. ‘i shall follow anywhere you lead, my darling.’

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Because Iffodola's pendant was too good to pass up, please find below some Imodna fluff. Light spoilers for Ep. 74.

-

She should be sleeping, but her mind won’t let her. Not all that unusual. A little impressive, even, given how much they’ve done today. 

Laudna’s awake next to her, working on a cross stitch of bright little mushrooms and forest creatures, a gift for Fearne that she uses to help herself wind down. The colors are always a bit of a surprise, because she uses her darkvision as often as not. Fearne’s going to love it.

Imogen finds herself matching her breathing to the rhythmic back and forth of Laudna's fingers over the fabric. Her elbow occasionally brushes Imogen’s arm and their legs are pressed tightly together, a little mismatched with the height difference and Laudna’s position, but a perfect reminder that she’s here. Close. 

She hums lowly under her breath, something she’d always done but that Imogen appreciates especially now that she wears the circlet. Tonight it’s upbeat, one of Laudna’s fingers tapping her small hoop where the song calls for percussion. The tempo is disarmingly cheery but she knows the lyrics Laudna’s not singing–the lament of a man whose spouse was lost at sea and all the things they’d left behind.

Her mind drifts to the pendant and Iffodola. She wonders if their family knows what happened or if they’re still waiting, trapped in the hope that Iffodola will come home. It will be good, to get it back to their family if they can, to give them closure and something from the person they loved, something that shows how close Iffodola kept them to their heart. Hopefully it’s less complicated than her own locket. At least it seems more honest. 

My love of my children. My guilt over my father. 

There are so many pieces of a life, etched into that pendant. Convictions. 

Laudna’s elbow grazes her shoulder and she’s suddenly overcome with the strength of one of her own convictions, has to be sure Laudna knows, so she brings herself up slightly, just enough to press the rest of their bodies together as they lean against the same sturdy branch. 

She casts dancing lights, close and dim with an eye to the others. Laudna smiles at her as she tilts her head in confusion, raising an eyebrow as Imogen catches the purple of the lights dancing back at her from black mirrors. 

Can’t sleep? Am I keeping you up with the stitching? 

The smile turns to a frown as she gets caught in her own thought, and she begins to tuck away her hoop before Imogen catches her wrist, running a thumb along the fragile bone. 

No, not at all. It’s nice. 

The frown remains, so Imogen carefully places the hoop in Laudna’s lap and brings the wrist to her mouth, pressing a kiss against the spot where her sluggish pulse raises her skin a few times a minute. 

Promise. I just wanted to…to talk real quick. I’m sorry to interrupt. 

Laudna leans closer at that, tucking a strand of Imogen’s hair behind her ear and squeezing her bicep before tangling their fingers between them. 

Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing than talking to you. Well… She stops short and there’s a darkening of her cheeks in the low light. After a beat, Imogen can’t help but raise an eyebrow and smirk. It’s still new, this part of them, and they haven’t had much opportunity to explore, what with everything happening, but it feels good and right. It’s also really fucking fun and she’s proud to know Laudna thinks so, too. Laudna rolls her eyes fondly. Yes, yes, darling. I find you to be unbearably attractive. As if you didn’t know that already. 

Imogen kisses her quickly, Laudna humming against her lips, and as she pulls back, she’s even more determined to have this conversation. She isn’t sure of much, anymore, but she’s sure of this. Of her. She thinks of the ring, of the blood pendant, of the shell in her pack. Of the gaping chasm in her heart after Otohan brought that sword down, the fear and panic after the solstice. 

It comes out in a rush, less eloquent than she’d hoped, but Laudna's better at untangling Imogen’s thoughts than anyone anyway. 

I was just thinking about Iffodola. The song, it made me think about them and whether their family knew what had happened. The children and the promises…and…and…Laud, you know you’d be on my pendant, right? Front and center. She takes a deep breath, steady, reaches forward to trace her thumb over glass-sharp cheekbones and wades into the black pools of her eyes. My love for Laudna. 

Imogen. 

Laudna leans forward and kisses her, as fiercely as she can while they’re trying to keep quiet. A hand buries itself in her hair and tugs just enough to make Imogen gasp into the mouth pressed to hers, the muffled sound enough to prompt Laudna push them back towards something more gentle, as soft as their little green hut filled with the other Hells.  

Imogen. 

She takes Laudna’s hand, kisses her finger over the ring she put there back before she understood exactly what the depth of her feelings for Laudna meant. Laudna presses cool lips to her forehead before meeting her eyes again. 

It’s been real hard to keep any convictions, these last few months. But that one’s easy. Another deep breath. Laudna knows, of course, but Imogen’s stomach still flips, her heart still beats faster, to say it like this. I love you. 

Darling. Another kiss, over too quickly. At her whimper, Laudna’s thumb comes to rest on her bottom lip, and Imogen kisses it, tastes ichor and fights a moan. I love you, too. 

She puts her hoop to the side and pulls Imogen closer, scoots them both back down into the bed rolls. They shift, turning so that Imogen holds Laudna tight against her, their hands together over her stomach, Imogen’s head pressed to the cool skin of her neck. Her lips track against what's left uncovered by her sleep shirt, aimless and wandering for a moment before she settles back, squeezing gently at the fingers between her own.  

Laudna’s voice echoes in her head as she closes her eyes. Sleep well, darling. 

She drifts off without any trouble this time. 

-

The Chetney figurine is beautifully crafted and absolutely horrifying, which feels right. The curve of his nose presses into the pad of her finger as she traces it absently, thinking about her own convictions, which she tries to scribble quickly on a piece of paper Laudna hands her from her journal. 

She has so many complicated feelings–about trust and commitment and guilt and power. So she starts with what’s easy. 

My love for Laudna. 

She writes out a few more things–big and important and fraught words about herself and her friends and her family. Convictions and priorities. As many weights as buoys. But she’s confident.

She looks up to find black eyes already on her, one side of her mouth tilted up, pen poised above a familiar journal. 

Nervous, darlin’? 

The expression expands into a real smile, full and beautiful and hauntingly wide. 

Not with you, my love. You’re very capable. 

Imogen returns the smile and folds the paper into her pocket as she gets ready to jump.