#[replies]

[bigfatbreak]

Can we see what Imago would look like in the same small form the other kwamis look like?

soon!!!

[deepspacialrift]

biana or marella from kotlc??

bia

taking character requests!

[vickyvicarious]

Shout out also to Mina for choosing to reveal her discussions with Van Helsing and their discoveries about the journal to her husband.

I bet it was not an easy choice, especially after being told by doctors, including Van Helsing, to not shock Jonathan. She had no idea how he'd react to revealing not only that she broke the seal and read her "wedding gift", but that she shared it, and that everything in it was real, every horror he experienced. But Mina took the risk at supper... And it was rewarding!

Yeah... she may have suspected it would help him, but she didn't know. The day before she was debating with herself over whether she should try and handle everything for herself so as not to bother him:

There may be a solemn duty; and if it come we must not shrink from it.... I shall be prepared. I shall get my typewriter this very hour and begin transcribing. Then we shall be ready for other eyes if required. And if it be wanted; then, perhaps, if I am ready, poor Jonathan may not be upset, for I can speak for him and never let him be troubled or worried with it at all.

I think if he had reacted badly - to the news that she'd read his diary, that it was real, that there really is a solemn duty - Mina would have tried to keep protecting him by promising that she would deal with this for him. It would have been even harder on her, but she would do it. She was prepared for that.

But happily, it didn't turn out that way. Jonathan felt validated and much more secure in his mind after she told him, and also felt renewed energy as he prepared to seek revenge/atonement. (Revenge for what Dracula has done to him. Atonement for the ways he unwillingly helped Dracula be better able to harm others.) Of course, his trauma by no means has just gone away and will surely continue to affect him in the future, but telling him was clearly the better choice.

And Mina had to tell him. She was clearly careful about it, tried to break the news gently. She emphasized her concern and the validity of his experiences, showed him Van Helsing's letter too. But she knew she had to tell him, because there clearly is a solemn duty coming, and Jonathan wanted to know if that ever happened. So she tried not to shock him, but above all she honored his wishes and was honest with him. And it helped so much.

[gideonisms]

okay because tumblr hates me it did not save my draft of a mini fic I wrote for a prompt but I'm posting it anyway. The prompt was:

the smut is DELICIOUS but my stupid romantic brain needs some fluff...so how about.....griddlehark sneaking into the library for some midnight reading? 👀

And I can't remember who sent this one, my apologies. Hope you see it, whoever you were! I promise this is fluff but I needed to write some original flavor Griddlehark so let's pretend this is what happened after avulsion ❤️

When Gideon crawls out from her nest of blankets, aware of her surroundings at last, Harrow is gone. Gideon should have expected this. If she’d thought volunteering to have her soul sucked out through her innards was enough to melt the heart of the lady of the Ninth, she would have been wrong. Even her hallucination of Harrow hadn’t stayed to comfort her.

Not that she needs comfort. After all, Gideon isn’t dead. She just feels like she is.

Groping around on the floor for her sword, the one lady who would never betray her, Gideon almost knocks over a cup of water. Harrow must have left this for her out of some misguided sense of pity after they’d stumbled back to their rooms.

Although it makes Gideon feel a little bit like a pet left on its own while its owner goes to town, she takes the water and drinks it in huge gulps, draining the whole thing. Afterwards, she feels almost like a person—if that person had been smashed to bits and then taped up wrong.

Now to find Harrow.

Gideon gets up, aching in every bone. She considers just lying back down, possibly forever. How much trouble could Harrow even get into on her own? She’s probably just passed out somewhere again and can wait there until Gideon comes to find her.

No, Gideon should check. After all, what good is she as a cavalier if she lets Harrow wander off and get eaten by a bone monster right after they’ve won another key? It would just be embarrassing.

So she checks Harrow’s room—empty, but she does find another glass of water in there, which she drinks hastily without bothering to question how long it’s been sitting on the nightstand. She rests for a minute on Harrow’s bed, clinging to her sword more for support than because she thinks she could swing it at something.

She leaves the room as silently as she can and closes the door behind her.

The corridors of the First House are empty and dark as she searches. She keeps thinking she sees movement out of the corners of her eyes, but after the fourth time she whirls around to find nothing, accepts that this too may be a side effect of the soul sucking.

She grasps her sword in both hands as she turns down a corridor she hasn’t taken before. At this point, she’s beginning to feel not only lost, but also dizzy, and is considering calling it quits and hoping Harrow hasn’t done anything too stupid.

But there, at the end of the hallway, is a closed door. And underneath the door, a light shines. Not the light of the old-fashioned florescent bulbs or even the warm, glowing lanterns she’s seen some of the priests carrying around. No, this light is a wan, flickering candlelight that only serves to make Gideon feel colder and more unwell. Gideon would recognize that light anywhere. It has to be Harrow’s.

As she creeps towards the light, she lowers her sword. When she reaches the doorway, she tries the brass handle—locked, of course. She knocks, and behind the door, she can hear the unmistakable sound of bones clattering.

“Harrow,” she tries to say, but it comes out as more of a croak. She hears a rustling opposite the door. She tries again. “It’s me, you numbskull. Let me in!”

She’s seriously not feeling good. Maybe this whole standing up thing was a mistake.

The door suddenly opens—Gideon sways forward.

“Gideon?” Harrow says. And then Gideon passes out.

When she comes to, she’s resting on a dusty couch, head pillowed by something soft and warm.

“Harrow?”

“Shut up, idiot.” Harrow sounds small and frightened. Gideon blinks her eyes open to see her adept looking down at her from quite close up, fingers hovering in midair as though she can’t decide whether to touch Gideon or not.

Gideon thinks deliriously that she might as well, since she’s already got Gideon’s head in her lap.

Gideon looks around. There are bones strewed on the floor—probably from Harrow’s efforts to get her to the couch. And they’re in some type of library—quite small, even by Ninth standards, but Gideon can tell that it once would have been cozy.

There’s a fireplace set into one wall with ancient chairs across from it. Everywhere books are piled up; this isn’t the tidy organization of someone who owns a library for the aesthetic, but the more familiar jumble of books and crumbling papers from a person who once loved their work.

She looks back to Harrow, whose face is once again painted, but hastily. The smudged circles of black underneath her eyes make her look tired and worried.

“Gideon?” she says again. “Are you all right?”

Although Gideon has looked her death in the eyes more than once this week, it’s the tone of panic in Harrow’s voice that makes her feel like she must truly be dead. She reaches up to pinch herself on the arm, but Harrow catches her wrist.

“Woah, hold it, that’s my move,” Gideon says.

But Harrow just checks her pulse. Her thumb sweeps over the place where Gideon can feel her heart beat hardest. Then she does touch Gideon’s face—fingers brushing her hair aside to feel at her forehead.

“No fever,” she mutters. “Probably dehydrated.”

“You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you? You have a lot of experience, my sickly scion. Malnourished monarch.”

“This isn’t a joke! If you had collapsed somewhere out there, where I couldn’t find you in time—”

“Dehydration duchess.”

“You could have died! Did you even read my note?”

“What note?”

“You idiot,” Harrow says again, with feeling. “I left it beside the water cup.”

“So that was you. Thought it might have been the monster.”

“There is no—” Harrow breaks off and pinches the bridge of her nose, breathing in slowly. She smudges her paint when she does. There’s a little bit of skin poking through just at the top of her nose where it meets her forehead. Gideon almost reaches up to touch it without thinking.

“You will not leave the room without my permission in the future,” Harrow says.

“Like hell I won’t! You snuck off without me. What did you expect me to do?”

It’s just like Harrow to use this as an excuse to keep Gideon locked away somewhere. What else did Gideon expect?

But Harrow looks down at her with huge scared eyes, as deep and dark as the tomb itself, and Gideon can’t even be angry. Which sucks, because she’d planned to be angry with Harrow for the next few hours at least. But now that she’s with Harrow, now that she’s assured herself Harrow isn’t dead, just holed away in some obscure corner of the House reading as normal, a sense of calm steals over Gideon. She could almost go back to sleep here.

As though Harrow can read her mind, she says, “I expected you to still be asleep.”

“Tough luck. I’m as awake as I’ve ever been. I could fight off a billion bone monsters right now. Just give me my sword, and—wait, where’s my sword?”

Harrow gestures to the edge of the couch near Gideon’s feet, where to Gideon’s great relief she finds her sword propped up.

“I haven’t taken anything of yours,” Harrow says. “I only—I needed to do more research, and I thought you were safe in our rooms.”

Gideon looks around. Books are piled up on the reading stand next to the couch, right next to an ugly ninth house candle Harrow’s using in clear violation of every fire safety rule Gideon has ever learned. Harrow has of course littered the floor with books too. The candle smells waxy and unpleasant, but the familiar flickering of the feeble light makes something in Gideon’s chest unclench.

“And was it worth it? Did you find anything?”

Harrow shakes her head. “Nothing of note. This seems to be a room for the more…esoteric interests of the Lyctors. There are books here on almost everything—anatomy, various discredited magical practices, historical romances that seem improbable at best. But nothing that helps us. It’s all just…what they liked. It doesn’t tell me anything about how they achieved Lyctorhood.”

“Do they have any skin mags?” Gideon asks hopefully.

“No, you moron.”

“But how can you know if you haven’t checked for them?”

Harrow doesn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, she picks up a book from the table and starts idly thumbing through. She doesn’t dislodge Gideon from her lap. Gideon thinks about getting up, going back to her room. Maybe forcing Harrow to come with her. But the thought of leaving this couch sends a wave of nausea through her stomach, so she decides she can best do her duty as a cavalier by staying here and watching for threats.

It's seriously weird to be in Harrow’s lap, and it would normally disgust her to be so close to her adept.

From this close, Harrow smells of bloodsweat. It’s not a pleasant smell at the best of times, and it’s grown worse over the time they’ve been at Canaan House. But the warmth of her—better than the empty fireplace in the corner, anyway. Gideon’s eyes start to drift closed.

Then something occurs to her.

“If you aren’t finding anything useful, then why are you still here?”

Above her, pages turn slowly. Harrow is silent for a long moment.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says finally. “I needed a distraction.”

This might be the most honest thing Harrow has ever admitted to Gideon. Gideon has long suspected that Harrowhark spends so much time studying bone magic because she doesn’t have any other hobbies, aside from conjuring skeletons to trip Gideon while she’s going down the stairs. It’s nice to have that confirmed.

Maybe once Harrow has seen the appeal of books that aren’t dusty academic tomes, she’ll grow more lenient about Gideon’s preferred reading material.

Not that it will matter. As soon as Harrow becomes a Lyctor, Gideon will never have to see her again. Harrow will never again tell Gideon what she can and can’t read. She’ll never again feel Gideon’s pulse, checking for life.

She probably won’t even care if Gideon lives, once she’s a Lyctor.

Gideon squirms around. She hates to call it nestling, because it’s not. But she finds a more comfortable position on the couch. Harrow adjusts herself above Gideon too. She props her elbow on Gideon’s shoulder as she turns another page.

“Will you read to me?” Gideon says. She must be out of her mind with exhaustion.

“I don’t see why you would want that.”

“I need to stay awake. Protect us from threats and all. It’s not because I crave your dulcet tones, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried about that. I know you hate me, Nav.”

Gideon almost agrees on instinct, but something stops her. Maybe it’s the quiet of the room, or maybe it’s the warmth of Harrow’s horrible little body, but she doesn’t have it in her to put up the usual fight.

Anyway, Harrow doesn’t seem to need a response. After a moment, she clears her throat and begins:

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.”

And although this intrigues Gideon, although under other conditions, Gideon would have loved to hear a story that wasn’t about how bad nuns go to hell and good nuns get to serve the King Undying, Gideon nevertheless finds herself drifting off into a comfortable doze.

She tries to keep her eyes open, but Harrow’s clear, calm voice reads on, and Gideon’s eyelids droop until she can no longer watch the flickering of the candle. At the very edges of her consciousness, she thinks she feels Harrow’s fingers brush lightly over her forehead again, smoothing back her hair.

“You can sleep,” dream Harrow says. “I’ll kill the light.”

[southfarthing]

i went to a conservation area and i fully understand tolkien’s love for trees. i LOVE trees. in my mind, i was straight up describing every single thing abt the trees before i was like… wait…

AAAAAHHH REAL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! same omg I'll be sat in the park and looking at a tree and I'll start writing a paragraph about it in my head 😩😩🫡

like hello?????????

[quinngefail]

NOOOOO! DO NOT THE LAWRENCE!

NO SQUEAKY SCRUMBLY SHALL BE EATEN. SQUOINKLE NOOOOO!

Huh wha

[limallide]

could you maybe draw meg and wastelander magneto interacting? or meg and mysterio. or megalo doom. -lays down- also let me see meg with ultron. just... any of these marvel villains okay?? I love them all so dearly. - you know who I am, why am I even on anon this is ridiculous.

WHY NOT ALL OF THEM AT THE SAME TIME !!!!

[ryuichirou]

So we know what his lovers do that drives Idia crazy (in a good way). How about the inverse, what does Idia do that drives them crazy?

You know what, Anon, my first instinct was to start talking about how Idia deliberately drives Azul nuts sometimes, and even you saying “in a good way” didn’t stop my train of thought. Yes, it is good that Azul gets pissed off at Idia! Idia is having fun, so it can’t be bad! lol

Jokes aside, this is actually a very good question. We did talk about what drives Idia crazy the most about his partners, so let’s think about it in reverse… I’ll only talk about our main boys, of course.

Azul – aside from situations when Idia teases the fuck out of him and Azul gets riled up because he wants to spank his ass lol I think Azul really enjoys Idia’s “evil genius” moments. If they have the same goal, and Idia suggests something effective, smart and truly wicked, Azul feels such a strong and nasty urge to kiss him or do other stuff with/to him. Also, when Idia runs fingers through his own hair while he’s thinking on his next chess move whenever they play. Azul stares when it happens.

Ortho – wow, this one is surprisingly tough! I see two options: when Idia acts unexpectedly and doesn’t give Ortho prompts that he expects, thus making his AI work harder and get confused sometimes; while that doesn’t happen very often, when it does happen, Ortho gets frustrated because of this misunderstanding and defaults to physical interaction if words don’t work lol But the second option is that sometimes Ortho just gets way too playful, and if Idia allows and enables it, Ortho gets so happy about it that he gets carried away. What I’m saying is that when Idia spoils him and allows him to do some new previously “forbidden” things, this is when Ortho goes insane (in a good way).

Lilia – when he sees the hesitation and hope in Idia’s eyes and knows that he really wants to say or do something, but just can’t. A lot of times he knows exactly what Idia wants, but acts oblivious because he wants to see this inner conflict in Idia’s eyes. The moment this adorable little sparkle of hope disappears and Idia looks disappointed in himself and starts avoiding Lilia’s eyes, this is when it’s Lilia’s cue to jump him. It’s like cuteness aggression lol Of course, he also loves it when Idia makes cute sounds, stutters or shakes after getting spooked by him.

Floyd – both of the Tweels love it when they get to chase Idia, or rather, it does drive them crazy. It teases something in them, I guess that’s just their instincts. But also, individually, Floyd really loves it when Idia gets fired up while playing videogames. He just finds this kind of Idia very unusual and exciting… also, he becomes so oblivious to his surroundings when he’s winning in a game, that it’s very easy for Floyd to bite him and hear him squeal. So funny~

Jade – whenever Idia purses his lips and gulps audibly, with his Adam’s apple jerking nervously. Also, whenever Idia tries to stay still, as if he is waiting for the predator to go away, and his eyes start to get teary a little bit. Idia’s shoulders also shake very cutely, and Jade could almost hear his heart going insane. Whenever it happens when they are alone together, Jade really wants to run the tip of his tongue right under Idia’s eyes to collect the tears, but at the same time eat him alive.

Sebek – whenever they argue, it does get Sebek angry and annoyed, but also there are some sparks of arousal that he feels when things get very heated, so I can’t ignore that lol But also, I think Sebek would get genuinely enamoured while watching Idia building something. It’s like he instantly forgets how easy it is for Idia to get him super mad because what he sees right now is… beautiful. Whenever Idia gets tired and stretches while moaning quietly though, Sebek blushes for some reason and looks elsewhere.

[eirianerisdar]

Don't forget cash app guy crying on sunday. The team is gonna be just rb

It would be just desserts if that happened but I would bust a gut laughing if they ended up being carb

[crimeronan]

Do you ever just sit here and think about Hunter's little "Are you... sure?" when Luz gives him his staff back in Hunting Palisman.

Like he fully takes advantage of Amity being nice to him in Eclipse Lake to get the jump on her. Twice. And he even attempts to do it in Hunting Palisman but hesitates and gives up and lets Luz go in the end. But the "Are you sure" is killing me right now. They bonded... he likes her so much that he's trying to be like "Hey are you sure? I'm going to betray you, you know that right? Are you Sure? Positive???"

I'm insane I love them

WAUGH.

it kills me that he goes from "what, you gonna blast me to bits, nah, you're too nice for that" to "....are you sure??" in the span of like. 5 minutes. hunter experiencing the emotion of Guilt for the first time in his life like ohhhh no you actually are too nice for that. oh god you're so nice. oh no. why are you doing this to yourself.

[deepspacialrift]

Stina Heks, perhaps?

taking character requests!

[vickyvicarious]

Was it that I wanted, now so late, revenge for that time when you saved my life, and from a fearful death? Ah no!

I love that van Helsing will take any opportunity to mention that Jack saved his life in the past.

jksflkfl my mind got silly with this and now I'm picturing him bringing it up constantly on the slightest provocation. Someone at dinner makes some joke about their drink being a lifesaver after the day they've had, and it's on.

Van Helsing: Friend John, do you remember-

Jack, already knows where this is going: Yes, Professor.

Van Helsing: -that time when you, so quick to act, sucked from my-

Jack: Everyone's eating dinner, please don-

Van Helsing, full Miette mode: Are you shy of saving my life? And from so horrible a death? Are you ashamed to hear how dear I hold you after, how much gratefulness I have? Do you leave me all alone to recollect and smile at the birth of friendship that day? Oh, so lonely a thought!

Jack, resigned: No, of course not. Sorry.

and then he tells the story to everyone for the fourteenth time in graphic detail

[eemamminy-art]

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

I don't know if I'm the best person to ask about writer's block, since it comes and goes for me, but I find that not writing with an audience in mind helps a lot.

I was once told by a professor that when it comes to art, you should never create an artwork with the express purpose of making it to submit to an exhibition. Whatever you think they want, isn't what they really want. Then you'll have made something you don't care about, that is a "failure" in your eyes. Same can apply to fanfic and fanart. The stakes might be lower, it might look like ao3 analytics or likes on twitter or tumblr being low or non-existent, but it still hits that same spot in your heart where you think, "I did my best, I did it for you, and it wasn't good enough".

I know it's easy to say "just make what you're passionate about" because those things might be niche, or uncomfortable, or you might feel self conscious about sharing your passions, but I really find it to be the key to unlocking creativity. I hit a bit of a snag in my writing this week where I slowed down because I started feeling bad about how others might perceive it, and found inspiration again by rereading what I've already written, and was able to write 1000 more words tonight. :3 Just try to focus on what you like in it, and I swear it will make it easier to create!!

-

Writers truth & dare ask game

[pixelplayground]

Love all the new pics, amazing work as always! May I ask if you could provide an aerial view of the kitchen? I struggle a bit with kitchen layouts - or rather, I have way too much layouts I like and never seem to make my mind up on which I prefer, so this would help to see your vision and be inspired! Looking forward to more pics from this beautiful estate!

Hello @omglolapink,

For kitchens, I definitely subscribe to oversized *go figure*, and frequently have two islands (one prep, one dining).

This is the current layout of the Virginia Estate. I almost always include a drinks station area, pantry area, informal seating, family entry, and then a separate panty/butler's kitchen to hide unsightly things like the trash, fridge, coffee machines, etc.

[blueteller]

is there any summary arc by arc for book 2?

I swear I am working on it!!! 😭 I know I am behind with stuff but I have a lot going on right now

I did already start writing stuff for the extras and part 2 tho!

Hopefully I can post it soon, but I do have several projects on my hand so it might take a while. Please be patient with me! 🙏

[quinngefail]

Can I PLEASE eat your art? The way you draw Lawrence makes me want to chew on him like a squeaky toy

WHAT THE HELL, MAN

Gif version below the cut lmaoo

In all seriousness though THANK YOU HEHEHEEOOO..,.,,, >:)c

Also ugh it was so fun doing hand drawn animation again, even if it was just four drawings for this silly lil thing HSKGKS

I do not think he's having a fun time though. He looks perhaps a bit chewed on