Imodna
(Closed, Moderated, Anonymous)
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Summary
Imogen and Laudna have a moment alone, thanks to a wizard's trap. And maybe they should use the moment to talk about the whole 'dying, fighting in memory hell, reviving' thing, but there are better ways to use one's mouth in times of traumatic upheaval.
Or:
The "Oh no! We're stuck in a room, all alone and undisturbed for a number of hours! Better fuck about it!" fic.
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Summary
“I told you I haven’t accessed that part of my brain in like fifty years.”
“That’s fine,” Imogen says. “I’m sure Dusk will understand.”
“But… what if I want to?”
Imogen helps Laudna access that part of her brain. (Or friends with benefits au)
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Summary
It wasn’t unusual for Imogen to become… like this. A little needier and spaced out, relaxing entirely into whatever Laudna was giving her. She was so often in total control of situations, or fighting for control of her own body, that sometimes she needed to let go.
Laudna is only too happy to provide.
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Some months ago, before this all started, Laudna might have hesitated.
She might have drawn her hands away. Smoothed them down the pretty arch of Imogen’s back, traced a careful finger down the slope of her spine, felt the notches and asked once again, if Imogen was sure.
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Imogen gets some rougher treatment. She very much enjoys it.
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Summary
On a list of “places Laudna thought she’d end up after, well, death” this seedy tavern in the grimy back alleys of Bassuras was fairly low on it.
She was no stranger to taverns. Nor seediness, for that matter - Pâté had that covered - but this was…
“You comfy, Laud?” Laudna blinked out of her thoughts at the whisper in her ear, Imogen’s warm breath against the side of her cheek. She considered her answer; it wouldn’t do to lie to Imogen, not so soon after making up, even about something so small. But then, she’d have to tell the truth.
The truth, being that sitting sideways on Imogen’s lap, huddled close to her warm, soft body and cradled in her strong arms was maybe a little too comfortable.
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Imogen and Laudna have been on stakeouts for five nights in a row, and something has to give.