#h&h:sam

[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]

A meeting of the Morgans! I feel like modern!Sam's hoodies would mysteriously disappear if they were in a relationship....and he'd always get the softest ones in Morgan's fave colour to keep their wardrobe cozy.

Who do you ship your ROs with? If you do that is.

Do you mean from other IFs, dear anon? Because I very much do that, and it's been a while since I've made the previous post, so...

Khari with:

A from Water to Blood by @veirsewrites

Alonzo from Hollowed Minds by @shai-manahan

Roan with:

B from Absentia by @absentia-if

Watson from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An Affair of the Heart by @doriana-gray-games

Morgan with:

Morgan from Märchen of the Maledicted by @themaledicted-if

Sam from The Harrowed and the Hushed by @lapinlunaire-games

Ariel with:

Xander from Unwilling Souls by @unwilling-souls-if

Zillah from Superstition by @13leaguestories

Riven with:

Alex from You Live And Fern by @beetlebethwrites

Carson from Haunt The Bodies by @hauntthebodies

Sage with:

Dominic from Larkin by @larkin-if

Grey from Supernatural in New York by @llamagirl28

Sasha with:

Sebastian from Speaker by @speakergame

Aretas from Honor Amongst Thieves by @leoneliterary

[lapinlunaire-games]

[THUMB] or [SCAR] with Sam possibly? Thanks!

Ask and ye shall receive! From this ask prompt.

cw: needles/stitches mention (no blood)

You hiss at the prick of the needle and the suture that follows it through the gash on your knee. Sam wields them deftly, but even the finest surgeon in the world couldn’t erase the pain of stitches closing a raw wound.

He murmurs something in a tone you think is meant to be comforting and pushes the needle through another round of fiery white pain, subtly shifting his weight to pin your opposite leg against the chair and keep you from kicking him.

“Just two more,” comes the soft, calm whisper, and you clench your fingers in the upholstery of the chair as you grit your teeth skywards. Sam’s back is warm where it presses against your inner thigh as he hunches over your wounded knee and sews you back together. The smooth rise and fall of his breath becomes your anchor, something to clutch with your mind while your fingers dig into fabric.

“Hold still for me. You’re doing so well, diniwed.” The focus in Sam’s voice, coupled with the hazy stupor of the adrenaline finally trickling dry, sends a strange twist through your belly and sets your brain off into a mild ponder. “Stop tensing—that’s it. Nearly done, just relax. Just like that.”

A slight tug at your tender flesh—Sam snips the thread and strokes the stray end flat against the knot before glancing up at you and hiding his grin. A faint recollection of your Welsh lessons shimmers in your pain-glazed thoughts, persistently amorphous despite your best attempts at condensing them.

“I’m not hapless,” you protest. “I’ve done very bad things.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at you. “I think you might have a concussion. And I didn’t mean it so harshly, you know.” A note of satisfaction comes into his voice as he rises up onto his knees and scans you over with a practiced eye. “Although I am impressed that you remembered what that means. Seems I’m a better teacher than I thought.”

His hands are warm and dry when he checks your ribs for bruising, fingers brushing along the first swelling petals of a garden of promised pain. It’s enough to lull you into a torpor—until his touch grazes the rippled edge of your scar and your eyes snap open.

You don’t realise how hard you’re clutching Sam’s hand until he makes a soft, confused sound of pain; you release his hand, feeling an unintended ache echo through your knuckles with your hasty apology. Sam doesn’t take his eyes off you as he moves slowly and rests the very edge of his thumb against the thinnest end of the scar.

He waits, and you wait too, until you can bring yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and the throb in an old wound to nod at him. A tiny smile ghosts over his lips before his thumb begins to move, caressing oh-so-slowly over the place that has known no love since it was rent apart. A gaze as warm as its owner’s hands holds you gently, reverently, as Sam shifts on his knees to slowly bring his lips to your skin.

Just as tenderly as he stitched you together moments ago, Sam helps you fall apart. The sensation of his lips lingers, washing over you soft and slow as he rises and strokes your thighs towards him until you lean down far enough that he can cup your cheek in one callused hand.

“Just another memory,” he whispers. “A healed one.”

His thumb sweeps slowly over your cheek, his eyes dropping to follow its path; you feel memorized, known beyond sight and touch alone. Sam pauses, lips hesitating around the shape of a vowel.

“Tell me,” you murmur, as soft as his hand on your skin. His throat bobs and something brilliant and impatient summons another memory—and a command—to your lips. “Cusana fi.”

Kiss me.

His lips turn upwards at that, but he holds back a laugh until after your lips meet, so you can taste his mirth in chapped lips and the careful way his hand shifts to tug you closer.

Another memory indeed.

[lapinlunaire-games]

Halloweek Day 3: Fog | Halloweek Prompts

He crouches and springs forward, limbs moving with devastating ease. There is a shiver in his pulse that thrums with power, something larger and more ancient than anything he has or ever will be.

tw: body horror

He can feel it already—a heady, insistent tugging at his veins as he moves through the woods, shedding his shoes and overcoat as he goes. Smarter to do as his father does, and leave them in a neatly folded pile at the base of some tree, but the silvery thing setting his blood aflame is howling too loud and haunting now for any thought of that.

The moon breaks through the trees in a burst of cold silver; Sam’s heart quickens and he halts in place, just shy of the moonlight pooling on the ground.

Slowly, he extends a trembling hand—the moon tingles where its light slips over his skin, itching as it calls to itself—and lets his fingers unfurl. Silver gilds his skin, washing over each knuckle with a holiness so tender it burns. He flexes his fingers and releases a ragged breath at the pop of each knuckle, all preceded by a burst of ice beneath his skin. Same closes his eyes; sight is unnecessary for what follows next, an experience that he feels acutely, every cell of his being writhing in the knowledge of its transformation.

First is the familiar yawn that starts in his bones as they stretch, their new length and weight dragging pain down his spine for a long second before his muscles finish weaving new, stronger fibres along his skeleton. Melanin evaporates from his irises, yellow overtaking brown with a feeling like staring into the sun; Sam’s hiss of delighted, eager pain rolls into a snarl as his jaw elongates, bone groaning as the joint pops into its new place and thick fur sprouts from his skin.

The air is ripe with damp earth and the prickling scent of cold when he breathes it in next, his surroundings made impossibly sharp and clear around his trembling body. He crouches and springs forward, limbs moving with devastating ease. There is a shiver in his pulse that thrums with power, something larger and more ancient than anything he has or ever will be.

The world smears around him into a fresh-scented masterpiece of forest and sky, his pulse echoing the pound of his paws on earth, leaves crunching like great drums heralding his passage. On his tongue is the strong, tart vibrancy of the night slowly (inevitably) bleeding into day, leaching from the trees into his mouth and lungs like sap, the process of losing this ungoverned freedom kept at bay by the false, heady silver that seeps from the sky. Sam sheds the thought of this loss as easily as he shed his clothes hours earlier, lost in the unforgiving, imperative call of a finite ecstasy.

When the sun spills over the horizon—running faster only pricks the yolk more, each step tears it open along your spine—, Sam knows he cannot fight (and indeed, would not fight) the howl that lances from his chest into the last vestiges of the dying night. Something echoes back to him, singing silver in his blood as he bends his body to the ground and feels the wind rush through his fur the same way it does through the grass around him.

His mouth drops open, tongue lolling out as he rolls to one side and pants, his breath fogging into the grass. The power, this wild thing that screams like an angel beneath his skin, swells through his distended veins. It hones itself with every thump of his heart until the sun breaks full over the horizon and the cold silver choir in Sam’s blood tears him apart again. One final howl echoes through the trees, accompanied by the crack of bone and sinew shrinking back to fit around the shape of a man.

As the power of the full moon fades, so does its compulsion, leaving Sam sprawled out in the grass, bare skin steaming. He keeps his eyes closed, pressing his face to the ground as hot breath fans out from his parted lips. Wind rolls softly through the tangle of forest he’s found himself in, raising goosebumps where thick, dark fur has thinned and flutters in the wind like dandelion fluff.

In the still, sun-stained greyness between dawn and day, the symphony that had run softly alongside Sam in the night quiets and gives way to birdsong. The grass continues its rustle as dew forms on the blades, coating them in a softer silver than the one so recently disappeared. It beads on Sam’s body as well, only to steam off almost immediately.

His chest heaves—he can’t see it, nor truly feel it, but Sam imagines the Veil roiling around him, disguising him from woodland eyes—and he rolls onto his back and gasps softly at the new map of wet pinpricks along his body. Fog rises from his ragged breaths as he sinks into the soft earth and feels the dew set and steam off his skin, some silver part of him buried deep inside knowing that it’s a ritual, as simplistic as it is, that claims him as part of the earth too. Eyes still shut, Sam runs his tongue over the tapered points of his teeth—they’re always the last to come and go, these small things—and wonders, as he does every full moon, if the earth will still claim him when he can no longer run and howl, when he is a hollow memory preserved only by the way the world once yielded around his shape.

It is a small comfort to believe that he will still belong somewhere.

[lapinlunaire-games]

"I'm tired, just cuddle me" with Sam please ? <3

🥺🥺🥺 you got it! <3

It is dark, the night rustles softly outside the window, and your bed is cold.

Without opening your eyes, you roll onto your side, facing away from the silvery slats of moonlight that stretch over the bedspread—even through your eyelids, they gild your vision in cool, angular rectangles.

It’s lonely, these full moons without Sam snoring softly beside you. In the moon-lined shadow of your closed eyes, you picture him as he must be now: fur sleek and shining under the inky sky, a lithe being of heart-pounding grace and yellow eyes like lightning in a storm, caught only in glimpses between the stark trees.

You wonder, briefly, what time it is—how much longer you will lie awake, listening to howls meant for ears other than your own. But really, are you listening for howls or for birdsong? Sunrise, after all, comes earlier and with greater power than moonset.

Outside, in the symphony of wind through dewy grass and crickets, something changes. The Veil slides out of the corners of the world and crooks, slyly as a cat, around the doorframe.

A shadow falls over the bed, breaking the moonlight slants.

“Moon’s still up,” you say softly to the unmoving figure in the doorway. He cocks his head, raises one hand to rub at the back of his neck in a motion so familiar you nearly feel it in your own arm.

“So are you.” Sam takes a step forward, and you can’t block the smile of wonder that spreads across your face.

Moonlight makes his features mysterious, gilding his heavy brow with a crown of silver that gleams as though to make up for the darkness of the eyes beneath. Another step towards you, slow and soundless, and Sam becomes a living hero’s statue, breathing too wild to be contained by antiquity. There’s something still more wolf than man in the set of his face, in the fluid way he moves, and it is fascinating. You cannot decide if you are fascinated in the way of a someone appreciating art or in the way of prey fixed by wordless terror.

The scar notching his eyebrow is a silver chisel in the blue-shadowed marble of his face. He smells of the forest, pine sap and damp moss, of earth overturned by powerful paws and leaps that end in upturned muzzles and howls straight from the soul.

There is yellow crackling through his eyes, fierce and unapologetic, and for a moment you are struck with fear of how much his beauty makes you ache.

“I heard you.” Sam shakes his head immediately afterwards, face twisting into something between confusion and irritation. “No, it wasn’t—wasn’t hearing, exactly. I…just knew you wanted me here.”

You blink. “But….” The softness in his eyes stops you.

“What do you want?” you say instead. Softly, like the lapping of a lake at its shore. Like his eyes.

Sam swallows. The moonlight over his throat bobs like a ripple through water and you are struck anew by the unfettered joy of his messy hair, the loamy dirt smudged over his jaw and beneath his nails.

“I’m tired,” he confesses, and you nod. He’s been running all night—alone, not with a pack, and even for you the moon sharpens loneliness from an ache to a blade. You cannot imagine how unbearable its cut is for him. “Just cuddle me. Please.”

You welcome him to bed with a smile, and he settles into your embrace with a sigh. “You smell nice,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck; his arms tighten around you when you shiver at the cold press of his lips, holding you close to the warmth of his chest. One hand traces circles over your side, feather-light. Even now, he is so careful with you.

“Mm? Like what?” You run your fingers slowly through his hair and down the back of his neck in long, easy strokes.

Sam’s hand pauses in its circling as he considers. “Just nice,” he decides after a few seconds with a contented huff. You laugh, and he hums into the vibrations of your throat.

“Sleep,” he murmurs, and you find that your eyelids are already drifting shut, drowsiness floating over your mind in sweeping lavender coils. “I’ll join you at sunrise.”

[lapinlunaire-games]

❛ you don’t have to be gentle. i won’t break. ❜ or ❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜ with Sam maybe? or whoever you feel inspiration for!

fit both in this one! It's, um, kind of angsty tho. :))

anyways! one sam morgan floor makeout session, fresh off the press:

In your periphery, Sam pauses. His head cocks ever so slightly, his body going absolutely still before he walks over to where you sit, a kind of forced calm to his movements.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

His voice is deliberately casual as he leans on the chair back and looks down at you, one hand carefully dangling within reach if you want it.

You glance down at yourself as if you hadn’t purposely picked out his shirt and little else to put on that morning. “Oh. I suppose I am.”

Your front of innocence evaporates with a coy smirk as you lean back and reach up to take Sam’s hand. “Does it look good on me?”

His grip is warm and strong on your hand, half-pulling you forward as he kneels beside your chair, rough fingertips cupping your jaw.

“What do you think, cariad?” Sam breathes, eyes fixed on yours with a kind of longing that makes your heart ache. His closeness makes you dizzy, silver scraps of the Veil glimmering on his lower lip like spilled sugar.

It’s unclear whether you fall from the chair or it falls out from under you as you lean into him, but none of that really matters when his hands slide firmly up your sides, holding you steady as your weight lands over him. A whisper falls from his lips and brushes hot at the corner of your mouth—it’s sweet when you take it on your tongue, catching his lower lip between your teeth and sipping from the sound it spills into your mouth.

He shudders and tilts his head to catch your mouth more deeply; you can feel the want pulsing through him like a second pulse, running molten under your fingers and through your lips. You guide his hands from the small of your back to the buttons marching down your chest and run your own fingers through his thick hair, luxuriating in the mindless, reckless feeling of him.

A low sound, somewhere between a hum and a groan, rolls from Sam’s throat. One hand comes up to cover yours as you run a thumb over his cheek, and he laughs dry and soft.

“I didn’t mean you had to take it off,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your face as though drinking in the sight of you. His voice is light but grainy, and there’s no hiding the flush spreading pink across his cheeks.

You grin and lean in, brushing your words across the corner of his mouth. “I’ll put it on again afterwards. Probably.”

You swallow his answering laugh with a kiss; you can feel him smiling against your lips.

Even now, pushed against the floor while you straddle him, your (his) shirt sloping halfway off one shoulder and his own in a similar state, Sam’s hands are feather-light on you, holding you delicately, as though he’s afraid that sinking his fingers into your skin, pulling you closer the way you can feel he wants to in the pounding stagger of his pulse, might shatter you.

You brace your forearms on the floor on either side of his head and let him take a little more of your weight, let your kisses get a little hungrier—but the only teeth scraping against lip and tongue are still yours, the only hands tightening on skin are still yours.

“Sam,” you whisper as you pause in dragging your lips down his jaw and the column of his throat, “you know—”

“I don’t want you to stop,” he cuts you off, his voice rough. A yellow sheen flashes over his eyes and he grits his jaw, eyes squeezed shut until you see the Veil slip away from him like rain from a leaf. He lifts a hand to brush softly against your face and repeats, “I don’t want to stop.”

You shift your weight onto your arms to search his face carefully. Gently, you trace the curve of his lip with a light fingertip and murmur, “Slower?”

Frustration clouds his features for a moment and his chest rumbles beneath you. “No,” he hisses, almost angrily—alarm and quick regret douse the fire in his voice almost immediately, and he grabs your hand before you can pull it back from his face. “No,” Sam says again, more softly. “I just…I don’t want to hurt you. I might…if I lose my head…”

“You won’t,” you whisper, your thumb pausing on his skin as you stare intently into his open, kiss-hazy face.

His brow furrows and his lips part, deep brown eyes almost frantic. “You don’t know that! I don’t know that! God, the things…the way you make me feel—”

Sam’s eyes flicker yellow and he breaks off with a groan. His pulse stutters under your fingers when you caress his face again, watching his features carefully. “It’s okay,” you murmur as you lean in to kiss him again. The ache for him is pounding in your veins, every single beat of your heart singing his name. “I trust you. Can you trust me?”

“I…” He trails off as your hand slips down his side, slow but purposeful. You pause at his hip and press your lips to the skin beneath his eye as you wait for his response. “…yes,” he answers finally, breathing the word out like a prayer.

“I’m glad.” Your voice washes over his skin, soft as silk as your hands busy themselves with the brass buttons on Sam’s trousers. His breath hitches when your hand slips beneath the fabric, pink heat simmering to the surface of his skin.

His hand clenches on your hip as he gasps and you nearly crow with delight at the feeling—instead, you slant your mouth over his again and kiss him fiercely. Euphoria washes over you when Sam’s hand grips the back of your head where skull flows into neck and pulls you closer, gasping wordless praise into your mouth—still so tender, so careful, but wanting.

When you break away for a breath, gazing down at Sam’s mussed hair and parted lips, his hands tense against your back before releasing suddenly, his eyes widening. Before regret can pierce their blissful daze, you press a finger to his lips and shake your head.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” you whisper firmly. “I won’t break, no matter how hard you try.”

And you turn his answer into a sigh and swallow it with a smile on your lips.

[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]

Sam -- "Could bench a sheep"

please elaborate.

I beg you.

I'm so glad you asked. I have been waiting for this moment.

According to a 2014 study conducted by researchers from Aberystwyth University, the average live weight of 4 year old Welsh Mountain ewes is 45.9 kg, or roughly 101 lbs. Another agricultural info website I found cites the average weight of Welsh Mountain rams at 80 kg (176 lb) and ewes at 35 kg (77 lb) to 50 kg (110 lb). The largest subvariety of the Welsh Mountain sheep clocks in at 85 kg/187 lb for rams and 55 kg/121 lb for ewes.

The average (untrained) human man can bench press roughly 65% of his body weight. Sam's family does raise sheep and he was not exempt from having to help out with the animals and additional labor, so let's say that he has the skill level and muscle training of a novice lifter. That puts his bench press capacity at roughly 90% of his body weight, so it's reasonable that he could bench 74 or 75 kg. And we mustn't forget that Sammy dear is a fair bit stronger than most humans, so let's go ahead and give him a generous extra 5 kg, putting his estimated bench capacity at a whopping 80kg/176 lb. And if you'll look back above, that's the average weight of a Welsh Mountain ram!

So in conclusion, Sam Morgan is physically capable of bench pressing an adult sheep. But emotionally?

He could never.

[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]

🌈!!! hope you’re doing well!

hiiiii I realized .2 seconds after hitting post on the last ask that I also really like this quote, so i am forcing you all to Read It too (thanks 🌈 anon heehee)

🌈 asker's choice: request a quote from a wip (a certain wip? a certain character? a certain emotion or trope if it's there? up to you!)

“What made you think I could help you?”

He doesn't hesitate before answering, “You’re here in front of me.” 

Your eyebrows lift. “Indeed,” you begin, in a tone that makes it very obvious you don’t appreciate being toyed with—

“You’re standing in front of me,” Sam repeats, more forcefully, eyes boring into yours. Your blood runs cold. Surely, he can’t mean— “Alive and well. You swore on the Sliver and spoke to the Council, and the scales tipped. Everyone said it was impossible; they’d already sentenced you. And yet here you stand. Alive and well.” 

[lapinlunaire-games]

🌈 anon! sorry got so excited I forgot to add a wip 🙃 preferably H&H, maybe with Sam…? Thanks so much!

hello hello! lol no worries, i'm glad you saw my post! hope you're well, and thanks for sending this in 😊✨

🌈 asker's choice: request a quote from a wip (a certain wip? a certain character? a certain emotion or trope if it's there? up to you!)

For someone suspected to have slit a woman's throat, scattered her internal organs across the room, and cut her face into lace, Sam Morgan is exceedingly polite. - The Harrowed and the Hushed

[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]

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....