#hound of ill omen

[soaring-trash]

just two tired people dealing with their loved ones children

i bet it took them 3 hours + to get them under control

[agustinavids]

“Hi, baby boy”

twitter link: https://twitter.com/AgustinaVids/status/1736782491799732329 IG link: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1AEM9JughG/ Prints: https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/156348614

[leafspiritz]

good dog 🦴

[cpprcoyote]

Lost Inside

[jadequarze]

Hound of Ill Omen (and Pâté)

[iwilltryalittlearter]

Pupy

[navelcontemplation]

"Sic 'em"

[finncakes]

hound of ill omen

[pocketgalaxies]

imogen called laudna's hound of ill omen "baby boy" that's it ep done everybody go home prayers have been answered good night!

[soaring-trash]

Here's an insane amount of little things i thought up about imodna :}

Imogen’s first attempts at crocheting where socks that Laudna now religously wears to sleep, they’re on the verge of falling appart but she loves them.

Laudna leaves an ichor stain on every mug she drinks from.

Imogen got spooked once and accidentally electrocuted a wooden mug.

Imogen loves laudna’s neck and unreasonably large amount because it shows that she loves every part of her.

Pâté likes to hang out in Imogen’s scarf like its a baby swaddle.

Imogen likes listening to Laudna’s heart beat, she’s traumatized from when her bbg died so she finds it very calming.

Laudna still sleeps with her eyes open sometimes.

the hound makes biscuits.(Pâté tries too)

Laudna made Imogen an earring like the ring imogen gave her.

imogen holds the blood necklace when she misses Laudna.

[agustinavids]

"Imogen just screams loudly, her eyes bright red. All of the spider-like lightning marks on her body brighten before they slowly subside as she returns." #C3E83

Twitter link: https://twitter.com/AgustinaVids/status/1763600691585507632

Instagram Link: https://www.instagram.com/p/C3-o6mtu6jM/

[ratinayellowbandana]

Hound "baby boy" of Ill Omen for prompts!

first off, thank you for carrying this whole ship on your back. you are our strongest soldier and we appreciate you.

second, even more thanks for sending this my way! I hope this is something like what you had in mind!

if anyone else sees this and would like to toss a little prompt my way, feel free :)

wc: 934

cw: body horror…kind of? it’s just canonically what the good boy looks like

~~~

Imogen loves Laudna. She does. Quite a lot, in fact.

Because it is a fact. 

It may as well be written in stone. In the stars. Recorded on one of those dusty scrolls in elegant script and stuck on a shelf in some stuffy library for the next bored student who may happen across it and learn of two witches who saved the world.

Laudna, it must be noted, is a woman of many quirks. 

And Imogen, it must be noted, adores her for them. 

They are just as much a part of Laudna as the angle of her nose, the brightness in her eyes. As are her projects, macabre and scrounged as they often are, and so Imogen adores them, too. 

(If it takes her a moment to come around, Laudna must never know. Each new creation, presented to Imogen with all the glee of a child in a sweets shop, will only ever be met with enthusiasm. Laudna, she knows, has spent too long squirreling away the odd parts of herself. Imogen is determined to recover them.)

“Come here, darling,” Laudna calls, and the flesh-and-bone creature that scared the everloving fuck out of Imogen the first time he burst from his maker’s chest trots happily to her side, tongue lolling from a fleshless snout. 

The hound twines between Laudna’s legs, and she lifts her skirts to allow him through. He leans heavily against the inside of her knee, and Laudna beams. She bends at the waist to wrap the creature in spindly arms. His back arches, and Imogen can hear the vertebrae curving, clacking, as Laudna scratches behind his one intact ear. The ichor-tipped remnant of a tail begins to wag, shaking them both with the force of it.

He spots Imogen several paces away, and his green eyes glow, peering at her curiously.

Laudna has stopped her scritches, and the hound tilts his big head. Laudna looks up, meets Imogen’s fond gaze, and her lips split into a wide grin.

“Go on,” she pats the creature’s sides encouragingly, “say hello if you like.”

The hellhound bounds forward, released from his command. 

Imogen recalls the day he learned his tricks.

Laudna had found Imogen lounging beneath a copse of trees one afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to sink, casting the forest in dappled shades of orange and gold. The festering hound loped diligently at her heels. His paws colored the leaf-strewn ground iridescent black in their wake. 

“Look!” Laudna had said, chest puffed. She turned to her newest creation and pointed one finger. “You’ve been so obedient all afternoon. I’ll see about giving you something from my collection if your other mom approves of your skills. I should have a deer leg that will suit you nicely.” She contemplated for a moment. “Ready?” 

The hound stretched into a bow, muscle snapping over exposed bone, yawned, and shook. Drops of blood and ichor spattered the clearing, but Imogen hardly noticed, too caught up in Laudna’s casual statement. 

She had said it nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just gifted Imogen something extraordinarily precious. As if Imogen’s senses hadn’t suddenly gone askew. As if she hadn’t just sent Imogen’s worldview slip-sliding into something new and dangerous and so welcome that it felt like a homecoming. Her mind spun until she was almost giddy with it. She wondered, then, how something said so simply could feel so significant. If Laudna understood what she had done. 

She had appointed Imogen the caretaker of a fragment of her soul. Of a creature that had been born of her, born from her. Crafted from the essence of her with whispered words and a desire to protect. 

“Imogen?” Laudna had said then, “Are you ready?”

And Imogen had glanced between Laudna and her hound, who sat on bleeding haunches and looked expectantly at his mother, and it was all she could do to swallow the creak in her throat.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

Now, as the hound nearly bowls her over, Imogen cannot find it within herself to be mad at him. Not even at the dark stains on her dress. They’ll come out with a prestidigitation or two. She knows from experience. 

She falls back in the grass and stares down twin emeralds. A broad tongue laps the side of her face, and she laughs, trying to dodge a cold, wet nose against her cheek. Her hands come up to cup the sides of his muzzle. 

“Hi, baby boy,” she coos. She rubs at his ears, and he presses harder into her palm, groaning loudly. She can feel the vibration in her chest.

Laudna scolds, “What have I said about knocking people over?” Her hands rest firmly on her hips. “Honestly, Imogen, you could at least discipline him. How will he learn?”

Imogen rolls her eyes, shrugs. “I’m the fun mom. He comes to me because he knows he can’t get away with anything when you’re around.”

Laudna huffs. “I’m sorry that I want our son to be civilized.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” The hound flops to the ground, sprawling over Imogen’s outstretched legs, and she lets out an oomph of surprise. “Are you going to join us down here?” 

Laudna sighs and settles beside Imogen, resting her head on Imogen’s shoulder. She runs her hands over the creature’s exposed belly, avoiding the biggest of the perpetually oozing wounds. His jaw unhinges happily. His tail thumps a steady rhythm against her shin.

Imogen presses a kiss to the top of Laudna’s head, and Laudna relaxes into her.

A soft smile spreads across Imogen’s lips.

[leafspiritz]

sometimes a family is you, your scary girlfriend, her rat-bird-son, and her terrible mangled hell-hound that comes from the depths of her soul 💜

[cpprcoyote]

Sic 'Em wip 2

[coffeecakecafe]

I know this is the second time I’ve done one for him but he wasn’t fully cooked last time listen

Yancy is everything to me,, Everything

(edit: forgot his dang barrier tattoo)

[mareastrorum]

I know it is NOT the aesthetic of Laudna's hound, but I imagine Omar with a zombie halloween costume.