#h&h:imric

[lapinlunaire-games]

with all the gonchaov stuff out, i think we need to know. idk if the H&H has movies But: who is each ROs fav character from goncharov and why?

OOOH this is a really fun one, thank you!

A - Honestly, probably a tossup between Katya and Sofia. Deep down, A loves to see a girlboss. Even if the ending of the story is pretty ambiguous, A likes to imagine what might happen afterwards.

Ailbhe - They'll never admit it, but they really like Icepick Joe. He's just there doin' his icepicking, and it's one of the only fictional deaths they've cried over.

Catherine - Very very close toss-up between Katya and Sofia, and it honestly depends on which version of the film: the extended directors' cut where there's a longer version of the boat scene, with Katya staring into the water and the RED, then Cathy's fave is definitely Katya and her girlboss moment. But the theatrical release where Sofia does that little dance on the cobblestones right outside the house, that's Catherine's fave Sofia moment. Basically, they love a good long-focus shot of a woman covered in blood, being cinematic.

Imric - Andrei! The suaveness, the cool dialogue and tingly-tension between him and Goncharov? Perfect. Modern!Imric would definitely get cosplay sunglasses like Andrei's in the undercover bar scene and wear them everywhere.

Mina - Lowkey a fan of Valery Mikhailov, Katya's older brother. She likes that he goes against the grain and sticks to his personal creed. Also she LOVES his piano motif lol.

Rosalind - Katya! She's got her own agenda and Rosalind is a big fan of her overall character development through the film as Katya comes into her own. Also ngl, the costuming for Katya SPEAKS to Rosalind's soul.

Sam - Goncharov! The whole attempt to define himself apart from his family's legacy while carrying it on has Sam rotating the Gonch scenes in his head for ages. He also likes that one scene where Goncharov is at the docks and kicks a loose stone into his reflection in the water, and when the ripples calm down it's revealed that Andrei was watching him the whole time. For aestheticsssss

The Silent One - Goncharov! Star of the story (if you ask them), destined to fall at the hands of a clock that never stopped ticking, fate sealed by his own machinations....right up their alley.

[lapinlunaire-games]

omg [TOUCH] with imric if you feel so inclined 😳😳😳

<3 <3 <3 I am very inclined, dear anon. From this ask prompt.

“Cozy, isn’t it?”

Imric’s tiny kitchen is too cramped to properly fit you both, but that doesn’t stop the two of you from crowding in to prepare afternoon snacks, limbs weaving around each other in a careful dance. He hums when he reaches over you with deft fingers to snag a spoon from where you’ve already set it out on the counter.

“Cozy, isn’t it?” he teases when you lean back to give him more room and nearly lose your balance—his arm is already propped to catch you, warm against the hollow of your back as he helps you steady yourself. Your responding eyeroll only makes his amusement twinkle brighter in your peripheral vision.

You turn your attention back to the fruits you’re cutting and the soft, grainy melody of Imric humming as he gives the French press a stir and sets it to steep.

“Sugar?” he asks, unnecessarily; he’s already turning, hand extending in front of you for the jar on your opposite side. Before you can reply, his free hand slides over your back, tugging you into his chest and holding you still with a feather-light touch.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, lips gliding past your ear as he reaches past your shoulder for the sugar. Warmth trails his fingertips as his hand skims the bare skin beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing a heady line that blooms straight into your chest. Imric’s thumb rests briefly on your side, almost quick enough to be a tap, and you let yourself relax into him, just for a moment.

You can afford one moment. Can’t you?

Imric pulls back, but his fingertips linger on your waist just a touch longer than necessary, pressing tenderly into the give of your body like a kiss. You can feel him smiling as he bumps you playfully with his hip and splits the spoon of sugar evenly into both cups, and it’s impossible to stop your own lips from curving up.

Silver coils at the edges of your vision and your smile freezes—the world shines like a pearl for one massive, terrible instant, blinding you to everything but the aching thickness in your throat and the bittersweet fade of Imric’s warmth on your skin before the Veil recedes. Through mist-tinted eyes you watch it swirl over the counter and up Imric’s arms, flowing into his beautiful, Mundane eyes, nose, and mouth.

Your grip tightens painfully on the paring knife and you force yourself not to watch—again—as the Veil roils. The spoon falls from Imric’s fingers into your waiting hand; you place it back on the counter mechanically and scratch another line into the stone of the plum you’ve been slicing for an hour.

A tuneless, pleasant melody spills into the air and gradually finds its footing as the confusion fades; through the hot gloss of unshed tears, Imric’s arm is a dark blur as he reaches across you for the spoon. You lean back and let yourself stumble.

He catches you. Again. As he always has. As he likely always will.

Imric’s smile is too bright, too good, too much to look at.

“Cozy, isn’t it?”

[lapinlunaire-games]

Can we have ❝ lets go home. you’re freezing, and i don’t want you catching a cold. ❞ for Imric? 🥺💕❤️💕

Absolutely! 🥰💖☔🥺🥺🥺

This one got a little longer (and a little angsty in the beginning), but it sure did scratch my perpetual hurt/comfort itch haha

“—and stay out!”

You grunt as you’re shoved none too gently out the door of the Red Lion and into the dim evening drizzle. The door slams shut on your choice hand gesture, leaving you to gather what you can of your dignity and your coat around you.

The lump in your throat grows hotter as you grit your teeth around the shiver that rattles your shoulders and stomp off down the street—not to your flat, not anywhere, really. Just not here.

A few steps in and the sky roars, darkening even further as the drizzle turns into an icy deluge. Within seconds, you’re soaked to the skin, clothes plastered to your body. Briefly, you consider screaming up into the thunderclouds—you’ve already put on quite the show for any onlookers—but the chill seeping through you is quickly killing your rage with misery.

You’d tried to be a model citizen. You really had—after all, this was meant to be a good experience, a foray into reconnecting with past happiness. But you could only take so much loud, drunken questioning about whether the Hushing had impacted the more…intimate details of your life before your public goodwill ran dry.

The sting in your knuckles flares under the pelting rain and you hiss, shaking out the pain. Hot, bright liquid blurs your vision as the thickness in your throat sends an ache through your ribs—you’d done everything you could, and still here you were, literally thrown out of the world that used to be yours. Your foot plunges into a puddle, splashing something foul-smelling over your leg—you curse and leap away, but not quickly enough. The damage is done.

A voice breaks through the haze of gurgling water and misery: your name rings out again, louder this time, and punctuated with splashes, as though the speaker is sprinting down the rain-slick street towards you.

You turn reluctantly and squint through the oily, rain-streaked lamplight—a great black umbrella blots out your vision, muffling the sound of falling rain, and you find yourself looking into Imric’s smiling face. A dual sense of mortification and relief flames in your cheeks—of all people to find you now, it had to be him. Something in the back of your mind whimpers, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste metal.

His bright grin falters at your expression—or maybe just at how pathetic you must look—and he slows to a stop. For some reason you can’t quite name, you stop walking too.

Imric glances back at the street, eyes lingering for a second on the swinging sign of the Red Lion, before roving over you. You set your jaw and straighten your spine in an attempt to hide the shivering, but Imric’s eyes are already going warm and wide with concern. His hand is warm on your shoulder, and you catch yourself leaning into his touch before you steel yourself upright again.

His eyes flicker down to the scrapes on your fist—when had you curled your fingers in so tightly, and why did you want him to coax them open again with his?—and back to your face, something soft in the brightness there.

“Have you been drinking?” he asks, and it’s so soft, so unjudgmental, that you’re tempted to tell him the truth—about everything, about why you had gone to The Red Lion tonight in the first place, and why he’d found you stumbling out of it. But right now, there’s no luminous silver smoke lining your vision and the hollow roar in your veins has dulled to the whisper of an ache.

So you just answer his question, and hope that he won’t question why your face crumples when he just nods and opens his arms so that the dry space between you can become the dry space nestled against him, if you want it to be.

He’s warm against your side, comfort wrapped in slightly scratchy dark wool and the smell of coffee.

“Let’s get you home,” he says quietly, one arm wrapping around you while the other holds the umbrella steady as a knight’s shield. “You’re freezing, and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

You nod, but the image of your flat as you’d left it—empty, cold, alien—flashes through your mind and you choke back a sob. The thought of returning there, spending the night alone with your thoughts and your pain and fruitless anger, makes you dizzy with panic.

It takes a while, but eventually you manage to gasp through frantic shakes of your head, “I don’t—I can’t go back. I’m sorry.”

Imric just holds you, ignoring the wet press of your clothes seeping into his, and strokes your back slowly until you can hear him over the throbbing in your temples. “Okay. Let’s go home, then. Let’s go home.”

He smiles at you, wiping away the water and salt from your cheeks with a warm thumb. His wordlessness is the kindness that paints dreams, and it settles in your chest like a fire in the hearth.

Imric’s place is small, almost cramped despite its tidiness, but somehow the way he fills it makes you feel like you’re in a fairytale cottage, with warm blankets piled around you and a neat, cosy feeling of protection easing your breaths.

He isn’t shy about insisting that you borrow some of his clothes to sleep in (“You’re going to freeze to death otherwise—and I don’t do laundry till aftermorrow, so I won’t have you soaking the sheets with smogwater!”), but it takes a considerable amount more effort for him to relent and join you in the bed instead of on the hard, chilly floor.

“Imric?”

There’s a pause in his careful, steady breathing. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

You can feel him smiling against the pillow, his thumb stroking contentment into your skin like a loaded paintbrush. “Anytime, rival dearest.”

[lapinlunaire-games]

Halloweek Day 6: Gnarled | Halloweek Prompts

Imric’s exasperated huff echoes down the hall and he pulls a face at the spidery Latin engraved on the plaque. “Who are you, then?” he whispers at the stiff-faced child. 

“I swear, Anderson, I have had enough of this bloody house,” Imric grumbles as he glares back at the portrait of a young man that’s been staring into his soul for the past hour. Anderson glances over from his hunch at the writing desk to offer his investigation partner a look of distracted commiseration before returning to the cramped pages of their joint report. 

“Anderson.” 

The scratch of Anderson’s pen pauses for a long moment before its owner sighs and relents to Imric’s unspoken plea. “This is due on the inspector’s desk two hours after our return to the Yard.”

Imric’s eyes roll upward and he springs up to pace (though he keeps the portrait’s piercing gaze in his peripheral). “It’ll have to go through Carroll first, and you know that won’t make it through the stack for at least a day—and then Carroll’s approved copy with the notes has to come back to us so we can present it at the briefing—”

At the reminder of the layered deadlines staring them down, Anderson has already turned back to the report with a defeated sigh. “Yes, you’re correct, but that doesn’t spare either of us from the inspector’s wrath, so please: you have my blessing to embark on whatever convoluted scheme you’ve been plotting out while I’ve been telling you what you knew I’d say.”

Every hall in the manor is haunted. Or at the very least, asking to be. 

Since leaving Anderson to the unenviable task of reporting what they’ve found so far in their investigation, Imric has wandered through a gnarled litany of halls, each lined with portraits whose blue eyes were rendered with uncanny skill, their gazes following him through his journey. 

The room he and Anderson have been granted—or rather, assigned—has only one nonextant inhabitant: a young man in a richly embroidered garment of deep orange and gold, sculpted brow arched over a vaguely indignant pout. His eyes are crystalline blue and recognizable in the other paintings, though his appearances taper the farther Imric wanders into the manor. Ever the detective, Imric stoops over a plaque mounted below a stilted portrait of a child with the same disconcerting, jewel-like eyes and dark curls (“I shall inspect you as well, then, good sir,” Imric had quipped two hours ago, with an affronted look at the painting in his and Anderson’s room).

Imric’s exasperated huff echoes down the hall and he pulls a face at the spidery Latin engraved on the plaque. “Who are you, then?” he whispers at the stiff-faced child. 

A tiny wave of relief washes over him at the lack of response and he nods at the grey pony bridled beside the child. “Sat for a portrait on your birthday? No snow, so it can’t have been Christmas. Unless…don’t tell me there was no special occasion, or I’ll have to do something that will make Anderson’s life much harder.”

The Child stares silently at him, hand clenched tightly around the pony’s lead. 

Imric runs a hand over the back of his neck and straightens up with a rough exhale. The hall stretches on behind him, dark green wallpaper fading to patchy cream, the walls suffocated with more paintings of the silent child, identical gazes of furrowed, unblinking blue fixed on him. 

Imric pauses and scans the new decor—he’s fairly certain he hasn’t seen this part of the house before, and upon closer inspection, confirms it with a swipe of his finger over the nearest doorknob. In fact, he’s fairly certain no one has seen this part of the house in quite some time; his finger is coated in a thick layer of mottled grey dust.

The door whose handle he disturbed creaks ajar. Curiosity wars with trepidation in Imric’s chest—it’s a short-lived battle with a clear victor. The musty miasma of long-stagnant air presses into Imric’s nostrils as he steps quietly into the room, trying not to breathe in too deeply. 

A four-poster bed stands against the far wall, stripped of its mattress and curtains. Its sad frame shadows another painting, evidently taken down from some wall and shrouded with a painfully dusty dropcloth, and a well-worn writing desk. The desk has been divested of its drawers, leaving it uncomfortably gutted, with the only thing in its possession a dried-up (and upon closer inspection, cracked) bottle of grey ink. 

Imric approaches the only remaining article of furniture cautiously: a bookshelf, surprisingly still full, looms from its position beside the locked window. It, like everything else in the room, is enrobed in dust so thick it looks nearly like a living thing. The shelves carry a combination of commonplace books, volumes of poetry with spines worn to illegibility, and unmarked composition books. Imric reaches for one, thinks better of it, and cranes his neck to read a few of the titles instead. His brows rise at the sight of a volume of particularly salacious prose poetry—an odd choice for this room in the Child’s hallway, as he’s begun to think of it. 

A second sweep of the room furthers his growing suspicion that the room once belonged to a young adult, older than the Child but not yet old enough to have graduated university: the books are arranged in no pattern that Imric can divine, but a pattern nonetheless, and the writing desk is sized for fully grown hands, though the cracked inkwell is placed awkwardly, as though the writer had manoeuvered it around some convoluted arrangement.

A sharp gasp from the doorway turns Imric’s blood to ice; he whirls around, adrenaline snapping through his veins, to meet the blanching face of Mrs. Starrish, the housekeeper who’d seen him and Anderson to their room upon their arrival. 

“I thought I heard….” She trails off, one hand drifting to her mouth as the colour slowly returns to her face. “My apologies, Detective, this section of the manor is not…it’s unsafe,” she decides, stepping forward firmly. 

Imric feels his luck flexing at the point of snapping and nods, following Mrs. Starrish’s brisk step out of the dusty wing. Back in the sconce-lit safety of forest green wallpaper, the paintings’ steady gazes no longer feel quite so disturbing—until Mrs. Starrish pauses and beckons him closer.

“Beg pardon, sir, but if I may…I wouldn’t mention anything you saw to the mistress of the house. She…things in that wing took quite the toll on her—on all of us, you see, and with her health being what it is…” 

Her eyes search his urgently until Imric nods. Obvious relief breaks over Mrs. Starrish’s face, sheening like sweat. “A good man, you are. A good man…”

However good of a man she thinks him, she accompanies him back to his room and ushers him eagerly back into the fervent scratching of Anderson’s pen on a report (unbeknownst to her, about to be extended by Imric’s findings). 

Once her footsteps fade into the distance (and Imric is satisfied that no shadow lingers on the other side of the door), he pulls up a seat beside Anderson and prepares a sheaf of his own. 

“Anderson,” Imric says under his breath, just loud enough to be heard by his increasingly concerned colleague, “loan me some ink, would you? This bloody house won’t let me make you do all the paperwork.”

In the corner of his eye, he swears the blue-eyed portrait smirks.

[lapinlunaire-games]

Ok, ahem, stoic!very smoldery eyes!mc approaches the ros, ok? Get nice up and close... this is light crushing to deep crushing.... only to grab something from behind the ros and walk away (damn)

oh let's gooooooo

this got a lil bit long as always (also sorry for the delay in answering this 😅), so check under the cut for everyone!

A: will be a flustered mess for at least the next twenty minutes, if not the rest of the day. If questioned, they'll eke out something along the lines of "stomach bug, I must have forgotten to boil the water long enough" and be too embarrassed to admit anything close to the truth if you (understandably) insist that they seek medical attention. Will write about the Incident (and yes, they will refer to it as an Incident) in their diary. When you’re not looking (or at least when they think you aren’t looking), A will have the most lovesick puppy-dog eyes ever (Rosalind thinks it’s cute, but if she lets out so much as a knowing grin, A will be mortified and snap into Extreme Business Mode).

Ailbhe: won't react, maybe raise an eyebrow if you're smirking over your shoulder. But they find themselves unable to move away immediately afterwards, caught in the memory of your closeness and the press of your clothes against theirs, the brush of your arm against theirs. Will probably try to distance themselves from you in order to maintain a Professional facade and figure out these horrible, complicated emotions you're making them feel.

Catherine: oh two can play at that game. You've picked a formidable opponent for this one; Catherine will go a long way to return your, ah, favor. Expect to have a load of similar situations crop up so Catherine has the perfect opportunity to reach behind themself and "accidentally" knock over whatever you were reaching for, then "accidentally" grab your wrist so you can't pull a sly escape. What Catherine wants, Catherine gets, and you've just made yourself her number one target.

Imric: Very similar to Catherine in that Imric is Ready to act on these signals! He'll likely be more direct about it though, and snag you as you're walking away. If luck is in his favor, Imric will spin you back and smoothly take whatever you grabbed out of your hands, getting a bit closer than strictly necessary to do so. "Sorry, I just remembered I need this for something real quick. Catch me in a bit for a return?" If he doesn't wink at you and then immediately vanish, he's probably ill.

Mina: Will honestly be kind of mad that she didn't do it to you first. XD After she gets over that and her shock, she'll be plotting (with multiple contingency plans) how to not only get you back, but maneuver you into a near-identical situation so she can be smooth right back and (hopefully) get to see how adorable you look with a taste of your own medicine.

Rosalind: Will be very giggly and pop up out of nowhere to surprise you for the next few days. She's always a very touchy person, and after you give her this kind of signal, she'll find any excuse to be around you and have those little moments of brushing against you (within reason, and only as long as you're clearly not bothered by it).

Sam: Most likely to blurt out something like “hi.” when you’re up close and personal. Lowkey will try to do ~ impressive ~ things around you after this, like holding doors open for you (he may or may not accidentally rip one or two off the hinges) or giving you his jacket (a poorly planned move on his part, because now he has to deal with seeing you wearing! his! clothes!).

[lapinlunaire-games]

🤡 and 🍳 from the ask list! Thank you, hope you’re having a relaxing day

Thank you! Hope you're having a relaxing day too, happy weekend vibes ^u^

🤡 - What’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

A - has walked into a wall/door and apologized to it. Multiple times.

Ailbhe - had a meeting with a Council member and arrived early. The door was open, so they walked in and saw a cat sitting on the desk -> assumed the cat was said Councilor and was in the middle of a very serious report when the actual Councilor walked in and found them talking to a stray cat.

Catherine - got a little too excited telling a story and accidentally splashed half a bottle of cherry cordial all over themself....and the people sitting on either side of her too.

Imric - went an entire day with his buttons misaligned by one, then tried to duck into a corner to fix it and accidentally made extended eye contact with his patrol partner.

Mina - once accidentally dipped her pen in her tea and almost drank out of her ink bottle.

Rosalind - forgot that she could go through walls/floors and went down three flights of stairs instead, and back up them again.

Sam - tried to say "beg your pardon" and "remind me when" at the same time, ended up saying "beg me when"

The Silent One - went through a phase where they growled/hissed at people in public.

🍳 - How well can they cook?

A - decently enough to feed themselves, but will stick to two (2) dishes forever

Ailbhe - don't let them in the kitchen. ever.

Catherine - can cook perfectly in theory, in practice gets Very Experimental and produces cursed flavor combos

Imric - pretty well! nothing fancy, but always a good meal with Imric

Mina - Chef Mina 👌

Rosalind - can cook well, but doesn't need to eat and therefore will create monstrosities in the kitchen. right next to Ailbhe on the blacklist.

Sam - tries so so hard and can make good simple dishes, but needs more practice

The Silent One - will put food dye in everything. makes anime eating sounds.

[lapinlunaire-games]

🌿🍃 anon! i loved your answers (i feel the same about the smell of rice but with basmati rice) could i also get the answers for the H&H ROs?

haha absolutely! 💚

🍃 Leaf: What is a plant you find beautiful?

A: Daffodils. They're like stars against the dark ivy that clothed many of the Gordon residences. A loves the way they stand out like smiles.

Ailbhe: a big plant lover in general, especially lotuses. the way they grow so serenely yet start buried in deep mud is...not inspiring to Ailbhe, exactly, but sentimental.

Catherine: Bougainvillea, especially when the vines climb up old stone walls. She loves the how bright the flowers are and how unforgiving their thorns are to reckless passerby. It's a kind of beauty you have to be prepared for.

Imric: Honeysuckle. They're a sweet small thing in the grey rush of London, and he doesn't often find them far enough from the smog of the city where he feels comfortable sipping the nectar, but when he does, it's enough to make his day.

Mina: Likes weeping willows; the soft strands of leaves themselves are beautiful, and she loves the way they provide a sanctuary in their own sorrow.

Rosalind: loves tea roses of every color. She especially loves the way they look when they're past the peak of bloom, with the petals all fluffed out and flared, but it's a bittersweet beauty since she knows that means they'll wither soon.

Sam: Snowdon lilies. They're a small wildflower with white petals and butter yellow centres, and they always make him think of home and days spent in the sun with his loved ones.

🌿 Herb: What is a scent you find relaxing?

A: The raw, crisp smell of a big, open grassy space very very early in the morning. 

Ailbhe: A blend of flowers and herbs that they sprinkle over their pillow at night, namely bergamot sage, moonflower, and a dash of clove oil.

Catherine: Dewy gardenia. It’s one of her fave scents in general, and their favoured perfume features it along with notes of incense, tuberose, and vetiver.

Imric: Baked goods in-progress. Not just the warm, buttery smell of things baking, but the sweet-sour tang of fruit jams being cooked down and the sticky richness of caramels coming together.

Mina: Night-blooming jasmine, particularly against the sharp, icy smell of snow.

Rosalind: Woodsmoke and the smell of spring -- not quite blooming flowers, not quite grassy, something all in between.

Sam: Rain-soaked moss and pine needles.

[lapinlunaire-games]

these asks are all so wholesome im aksjdjs

could you do 🍯 Honey: What is one thing you like about yourself? For the cast (and also yourself, if you like 🙂)

aaa aren't they?? all these have such cozy vibes ehehe. and thank you!!

🍯 Honey: What is one thing you like about yourself? from this ask prompt

A: *Katara voice* I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me.

Ailbhe: I will stand by what I know is right. My conviction, I suppose, is what I value most about myself.

Catherine: What's not to like? Self-love is very important, you know. If I had to pick just one thing...I am very good at keeping an audience entertained. Never a dull time with me around.

Imric: I've always got something for everyone -- a joke, a sweet, a string to pull. It costs more to be kind, and I'm happy to pay the price.

Mina: It's hard to stay human in my line of work, but I've managed it. That's something I'm proud of.

Rosalind: I like my smile! Ghosts are very cold, but people have told me they feel warm after seeing me smile.

Sam: My sense of loyalty might get me into trouble at times, but it's very important to me.

Jinx (that's me!) I like that I'm trying to be kinder to myself these days. It's hard but it's a really good feeling to think that I wouldn't scare my child self lol.

[lapinlunaire-games]

Atoll by Nai Palm? 👀 for the music ask!

first off, this is a major jam and i am definitely going to check out more of Nai Palm’s stuff! thank you Monday 🥰✨🎶

Secondly, this has big, big Imric energy! The lyrics, the style, everything - it’s so warm and has this gentle, practical love energy. He’s the kind of person to tease you riiight up to the limit, but love you so actively and attentively at the same time. Things will go wrong and he knows that, and he just wants to be there for you when ya need him.

[lapinlunaire-games]

Oh! 🕯️ for the cast, if you please?

of course!! thank you for the ask 😊 (may I call you Peaches?)

🕯️ Candle: What is something you can’t go to bed without?

A: writing in their journal. it doesn't have to be a long entry or particularly profound, but it's been a part of their routine for so long that they can't do without it. and a certain ring....

Ailbhe: Ailbhe always puts fresh flowers or herbs on their pillowcase to sleep. the scent helps them clear their head and feel like "okay, it's really over. i can let go now."

Catherine: someone to share the bed with Catherine dislikes sleeping in total darkness, so she makes sure there's always a candle burning (somewhat safely) or moonlight in the room before she can sleep.

Imric: an unseasonably thick blanket. he runs warm, but likes the feeling of a thicker blanket anyways.

Mina: has to wash her feet (and usually run a wet cloth over her entire body, unless she's in a pinch) in order to sleep well. it's partially a mental thing about washing away the grime of the day and partially bc her feet are usually super battered.

Rosalind: hums herself to sleep. She can do it in her head if someone's around who is bothered by it, but she always sleeps the best if she lullabyes herself to dreamland.

Sam: honestly could sleep in the middle of a storm. but when he can't sleep (which also happens quite frequently, as of late), he likes to whittle or close his eyes and examine one of the first figures he made with his eyes closed. it's a calming process for him, identifying each feature and nick in the wood by touch and remembering where he was at the time, how he was feeling, what he was thinking.

[lapinlunaire-games]

🥞 and🐝 for the H&H ROs? Thank you!

Thanks anon!

🥞 Pancake: What is your favorite breakfast food?

A: loves sweets in the morning, and preferably hot. If you manage to get it out of them or their childhood nanny, God bless her soul, there's a very cute story about how a six-year-old A scarfed down half a dozen hot cross buns one fine spring morning and proceeded to wreak sugar-high havoc the whole day.

Ailbhe: snacks throughout the day, so they aren't a big breakfast person. Still, they like starting off with dried apricots, with roasted oats and a spot of honey if they're feeling particularly luxurious that day.

Catherine: Catherine's ideal world features coffee and berry parfait every morning, with goat cheese quiche or crumpets to be eaten afterwards.

Imric: is used to eating on the go/in a hurry, so he has a cherished routine of toast at home and then grabbing a packet of freshly roasted chestnuts from a street vendor on his way to the Yard. If he's running late, he'll buy an extra packet as a peace offering to his supervisor.

Mina: steamed buns, fluffy and filled with a peppery mixture of scrambled egg and leek/chives. Those are hard to come by in England, so she makes do with toast and marmalade.

Rosalind: in modern times, she would DEVOUR breakfast sandwiches, the diner kind that leave your hands slightly greasy and smelling like home fries for the rest of the day. Croissant, biscuit, whatever -- she loves them all. And yknow what, H&H London has those in canon now, because I said so. :P

Sam: loves a good creamy oat porridge, with sugar sprinkled on top and left to cool just enough to make a little crust. When he was little, his mom would use a spoon to make little happy faces in each bowl for him and his siblings in the morning, and it's still something he does when he's sick/caring for someone else.

🐝 Bee: What is a video game that you find comforting?

A: would really enjoy the Assassin's Creed games. Being able to explore, plus all the political subterfuge just...not having consequences on their real life? Being able to be brash and ridiculous and jump off ledges for the heck of it? Perfect.

Ailbhe: would be really into puzzle games, especially ones that use spatial visualization mechanics. Somehow I also get the feeling that they'd be Extremely into Beat Saber....

Catherine: loves multiplayer games with battle royale dynamics, like Mario Party or Mario Kart. She's in it to win it, even it that means teaming up with a rival or two.

Imric: also very into Mario Kart, but because he likes to play bumper cars while racing. Would take Rainbow Road as a personal offense (and challenge).

Mina: soundtrack-heavy games like Flower or Sable. She likes the open-world exploration aspects and being able to immerse herself.

Rosalind: Sims! She'd go all out theming and maybe get into modding herself.

Sam: Animal Crossing, but he plays it like a mom who's taking care of her children's tamagotchis. You'll look over and he'll be hunched over looking Stressed, but if you try to get him to take a break he'll wave you away all "nOOO, I need to make it perfect so Dobie will move in!"

[lapinlunaire-games]

Oooh! I had a question if you didn't mind!

What's the best way to make the ro’s flustered? How easy, on a scale of ten, is it easier to fluster them?

Ooooh good question!

From easiest to fluster to most difficult, it goes:

A > Sam > Rosalind > Mina/Imric > Catherine > Ailbhe > The Silent One

A grew up very sheltered and even though their father was, uh, indiscreet in his affections, they fluster very easily with forward words or touch.

Flirty words get Sam and Rosalind blushy - Sam also flusters easily with flirty touches/eye contact, but is more likely to brush you off that way.

Mina and Imric are more immune and require a combo to get them flustered, and you'd better bring your A game! Turning their own moves against them is your best bet.

Similarly, it will take some seriously smooth moves to get Catherine flustered - you'll need to beat her at their own game for that.

Ailbhe is incredibly difficult to fluster since they're used to dealing with all the outrageous goings-on of the Council. Physical proximity is the best way to get a blush on their cheeks, and if you get them to verbally mess something up/stammer - you're one step away from breaking them entirely. Tread carefully!

The Silent One is difficult to get any kind of reaction out of. They like toying with the object of their affections, and will try to figure out what makes you tick, so you're playing a game against them and the clock. That being said, matching their intensity is a move few think to try....

[lapinlunaire-games]

if you’re still taking these, 🐾 and 🥰 please! if not no worries!

of course! hehehe

🐾 - Do they have any pets?

A - Not exactly their pet since they left Tamarisk (the Gordon family manor), but they're very fond of Cressida, their mare, and sorely miss taking her out riding.

Ailbhe - Ailbhe is a Plant Parent™ and keeps several carefully minded flowers and vines at home. The one they've had the longest is a jade plant named Romulus, which lives right next to a literal wall of hollyhock (Oran).

Catherine - they aren't technically her pets, but Catherine's brother keeps a pair of Italian greyhounds at his estate and Catherine adores them. They may or may not have bought silk scarves for the dogs and insisted on having a portrait painted with them. ;)

Imric - not technically, but Imric is known to take care of his landlord's cat when it inevitably wanders into his room.

Mina - no pets in England for Mina, but when she was little, there was a little brown dog that lived down the street from her home, and she'd always leave a bit of food out for it, and sometimes get a few pets in for her trouble.

Rosalind - you Rosalind is a cat person. Do with this information what you will!

Sam - Thinks of the sheepdogs at home as working dogs, but spoils them like beloved pets.

The Silent One - no pets, but really wants one (or more) deep down, someday.

🥰 - What pet names do their partner(s) use for them/do they use? How flustered do they get by them? I love this question, pet names are so fun

A - “Sweetheart”, “my poet”, “goldheart” are 100% guaranteed to have A smiling dorkily at you, completely lovestruck. Using “my partner in crime” would get you an eyeroll, but it’d stick and they’d use it for you too. They call their partner “sweetheart” too, as well as “my muse”.

Ailbhe - "my love" or “my heart” are good options, but Ailbhe loves hearing their partner call them by their name. Names hold power for the fae, and hearing themselves named with such love makes Ailbhe melt. They call their partner their sacred deer, because that love makes them feel divine and because if something were to happen to that love, Ailbhe would take down everything and everyone responsible in cold, methodical wrath.

Catherine - If Catherine lets you get away with "Cat" or "Cathy", you're very dear to them. Also loves hearing you use (or attempt to use) Italian pet names, and will use "tesoro" (treasure), "vita mia" (my life), and lowkey whatever makes you blush the most. A good old-fashioned "darling" never goes wrong, either (but if they sound sarcastic while calling you this.....broski ya did something wrong). Doesn’t get very flustered by pet names, but if you stop using them, Catherine will get increasingly worried that you’re upset and will go to extreme lengths to “make it up” to you.

Imric - If you teasingly call Imric "dear nemesis" or "my beloved rival", you will awaken something in him lmao. He likes using “✨Detective✨", your name but in a tone that makes it sound like 😏 is written right after, and "beloved". Imric’s always flirty, but using pet names is a whole new level; if you’re bold and shoot right back with a saucy smile of your own, you’ll get to see him blushy and bright-eyed, which is a rare(r) occurrence.

Mina - "sweetheart" and "honey" are fine with her (she isn't a huge pet name person), but if you try to use 爱人/Ài rén (lover) on her, be prepared for a cringe or laughter. She thinks it's super super cheesy, but if you like calling her that, Mina will grudgingly admit it's kinda cute coming from you. If you realllly want to be romantic, do your research and call her 小明 (xiao ming), which is a nickname twist of her full Chinese name. (It’s not particularly romantic, but it makes her feel Seen)

Rosalind - Call Rosalind “dove”, “ducky”, or “princess” (sparingly on this last one unless you're okay with Super Giggly Blushy Rosalind all the time), and she’ll reciprocate with so many cutesy pet names/variations on your actual name, or nicknames based on your likes/cute things you do.

Sam - Being called “baby” or “dear” will have Sam a shy, pleased mess. He’ll do his best to remain stoic in public, but you’ll be able to catch a glimpse of a grin and maybe a quiet “heh”. He uses “cariad” most often for his partner, which is Welsh for darling.

The Silent One - “babygirl” would get Real Dramatic if their partner called them “my _____” or “my love”. It’s the possessive that really gets to them. I’m talking they’re on their knees, vowing to give their partner the sun, moon, and stars, walk to the ends of the earth and time for them. They like to use “(my) sweet (thing)” and “beloved”.

[lapinlunaire-games]

💝 please!

💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side?

A - Being there for them, backing them up in sticky situations -- affirmations are a surefire way to get on A's good side. Conversely, being frank with them and helping them get grounded if they're being a little too bullheaded is also A+.

Ailbhe - Oof this is hard, Ailbhe is so suspicious of anyone going out of their way to be nice to them, so you'll have to be careful not to seem like you're trying to bribe them. Small favors like remembering things they say/like will go a long way. Get on their good side by reserving judgement and being honest about your reasons for disagreeing if you have any - just be ready to table the discussion if Ailbhe feels things are getting too agitated.

Catherine - Public displays of affection, being made to feel like you're proud of this relationship and of them. Well thought-out compliments are also a plus (less about her appearance, more about the efforts made, the taste behind it, etc)

Imric - Check-ins on him, even if he doesn't feel like he needs it. Things like taking an extra moment to wait for him to get his coat on or slowing to match paces. Bantering with him will never go wrong, nor will offering to teach him something new or let him watch you do something you care about.

Mina - Offer her space when she needs it. She doesn't expect you to read her mind, but learning Mina's unspoken/unconscious signals are a great way to show that you understand and support her. A good way to get in her good graces is noting + respecting her cultural norms coughcough if she visits you offer her fruit. Asking her sincerely to explain their significance/history to you is also a good move!

Rosalind - Honestly, sitting down to tell her about your day and describing all the sensations that she can't really feel but remembers. It's pretty difficult not to be on Rosalind's good side, but some things that earn brownie points are setting up some decor in your shared living spaces that are more Rosalind's taste than yours - she knows she doesn't pay rent, exactly, and feeling like you welcome rather than resent her being there is nice.

Sam - Sam is a bigggg physical touch person, and he's also very very touch-starved, so small things like pats or hand brushes mean a lot to him. Just don't make him feel like you're doing it for the novelty of being touchy-touchy with a werewolf. Getting along/entertaining with his siblings, particularly his youngest sister, will land you firmly on his good side.

The Silent One - Things that make them feel seen rather than merely desired - getting on their good side is a careful art of balancing and learning their moods.

[lapinlunaire-games]

hi! i’m not sure if this has been asked, but what are the ROs preferred love languages, both giving and receiving?

hi anon! sure thing! Giving | Receiving

A - acts of service | quality time

Ailbhe - words of affirmation | words of affirmation

Catherine - physical touch | receiving gifts/physical touch

Imric - words of affirmation/gift giving | words of affirmation/quality time

Mina - acts of service | acts of service/words of affirmation

Rosalind - physical touch BUT she knows it can be unpleasant for living beings to touch ghosts, so she really makes an effort to do acts of service (which she also naturally expresses affection with) too | physical touch/quality time

Sam - gift giving | receiving gifts/physical touch

[lapinlunaire-games]

❛ tell me what you want. ❜ for Imric pls :3

short but sweet, thank you anon!

mature content under the cut!

"Smith doesn't know what he's talking about, Alley Hall is definitely connected. I'm sorry for making a scene, I just couldn't stand how much he was patronising you. " Imric's hands punctuate his words, darting occasionally to his coat to pull it tighter against the early evening chill. He glances at you as you clatter down the steps of the Yard, his lips parted to continue, but when your eyes meet his, Imric pauses before melting into a smile.

It's still grey and achingly windy, but the sight warms you, a frightening storm of affection swirling in the pit of your stomach as you reach the pavement together. Imric's ungloved hand brushes against your knuckles for one, deliciously warm moment. You hesitate; you'd usually take the turn left here back to your flat, soldiering on unbothered back to Pimlico for the night, but today...today you can't tamp down the voice in the back of your head that wants to chase after Imric's warmth and every unspoken moment that's had you thinking of him since the beginning of the year. He's already turning right, one hand raised in a wave goodbye, and before you know it, the pang in your chest rolls out of your throat with a plaintive cry:

"Jennings!"

He pauses and slowly lowers his hand, something hesitant coming into his eyes. When he says your name, voice raised up into a question, you find yourself directly in front of him and forget how to speak. You'll just ask him for coffee. If he wants to have a walk with you. Something simple.

He smiles at you again, and you hear yourself say, "Do you want me?"

Imric's face goes slack with shock, eyebrows lifting like dark gulls as he stares at you, an incredulous laugh staggering from his lips after a too-long delay; you register his reaction an instant before your embarrassment hits you, searing your cheeks until you're sure that steam is rising off your face. "Wait, no - I - I'm sorry, I meant --"

"...yes." Imric's eyes are soft, his lips drawn tight into a nervous, trembling half-grin. His hand brushes yours again, and when you don't pull away, his warm fingers close softly around yours. "I do want you, Detective. Very, very much."

You're very aware of how in public you are, how every second his hand holds yours is another second that a rumor could spark the fire that spells out both your ruins. And yet you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Do you have coffee?" you ask. Imric's brow creases for a moment before he holds back his laughter and nods.

"I do. Do you want to come by for a visit? With coffee."

"I'd like that very much, Detective Jennings."

You steal a kiss in the cover of the crowd at the bakery he once bought you a coconut tart from, and when you pull away, Imric's eyes are sparkling in a way that sends your stomach swooping. He glances at the window display, a playful smile curling over his lips as he leans in, shielding you from the wind and curious eyes with his greatcoat.

"If you wanted me to buy you something, you could just ask."

You roll your eyes at him and turn back to cross the street; you grasp his hand in yours a moment longer than necessary, delighting in the thrill of his skin against yours. You release him as Imric slows, but his fingers tighten on yours and he spins you close, catching you up against his chest as he smoothly pushes open the door.

"After you," he says with a flourish and an exaggerated bow. His laughter when you pull him after you thrums against your fingers as you make your way up the stairs in a dizzy whirl of whispered quips and kisses with deepening hunger behind them.

When Imric finally gets the door open, fumbling with the key while you make it exponentially more difficult by occupying his lips and one hand, it's less a question of who pushes who into the narrow entry of his flat and more how you find yourself with your back against the wall, Imric's hand cupping your jaw while your legs part for his thigh.

"Tell me what you want," he murmurs, brushing your lips with his. His hands slide up your side as his mouth travels down, suckling at your throat. "How you want me..."

His name leaves your lips in a groan as your clothes fall away and warm touches meet bare skin. "Your mouth," you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut. Imric's laughter is soft and sweet like sun-warmed wind on your stomach as he sinks to his knees and drags down the fabric you shove away from your hips.

"Where?" A kiss lands on your hip, pressing slow and hot until Imric nips at you just sharply enough to sting. "Here?"

"Lower," you gasp, your fingers scraping over the wall at your back as his lips drag down the crease where your thigh melds into body.

He smiles against you, hands rising up to cup the swell of your thighs and ass like a worshipper at the altar. His mouth swerves every time you think it'll land where you ache for it, teasing you until you groan, hips rolling desperately against the air. "More information, please," he murmurs up at you, dark eyes glimmering with adoration and mischief in equal measure. "I require very precise direction."

"Imric," you half-moan, half-growl, "Imric, get your fucking mouth on me--!" Your sentence cuts off sharply as he slides in exactly where you want him, lips and tongue laving over your heat like a man dying of thirst.

He reaches up, interlaces his fingers with yours as you make a sound that, if half a decibel louder, would have you written up for public indecency in well over thirty countries, and traces your name into your palm with his thumb. And when he finishes your name, he starts over again, and doesn't stop until he has you trembling on his tongue again.