#s-aint-elmo

[heroineimages]

These are lovely!

pass it on!

(ID in alt text)

[supercantaloupe]

the petty drama between hallariel “married a human” seacaster and arianwen “had two kids in three years” abernant in the middle of fantasy whole foods is a dynamic i CANNOT stop thinking about

[image ID: the first image is a screenshot of tumblr tags that say “don’t be shy sasha tell them abt hallariel and the abernants slut-shaming each other.” 

the second image is a sketchy pencil drawing of two high elven women pushing grocery carts. arianwen abernant is on the left and faces the viewer with a stern expression. she says “it really was a shame for you to marry so far beneath your station, hallariel.”  hallariel seacaster is on the right with her back to the viewer and says “talk to me when your children aren’t less than 50 years apart in age, slut.” a small drawing of her face with a smug expression is visible under her text.]

[elsewhereuniversity]

i'm currently reading we have always lived in the castle, and this passage gave me very strong eu vibes: "On Sunday mornings I examined my safeguards, the box of silver dollars I had buried by the creek, and the doll buried in the long field, and the book nailed to the tree in the pine woods; so long as they were where I had put them nothing could get in to harm us. I had always buried things, even when I was small; I remember that once I quartered the long field and buried-- (1/?)

"something in each quarter to make the grass grow higher as I grew taller, so I would always be able to hide there. I once buried six blue marbles in the creek bed to make the river beyond run dry. “Here is treasure for you to bury,” Constance used to say to me when I was small, giving me a penny, or a bright ribbon; I had buried all my baby teeth as they came out one by one and perhaps someday they would grow as dragons. All our land was enriched with my treasures buried in it,-- (2/?)

"thickly inhabited just below the surface with my marbles and my teeth and my colored stones, all perhaps turned to jewels by now, held together under the ground in a powerful taut web which never loosened, but held fast to guard us." with all this going on, i think mary katherine would fare well in the university. (3/3)

[gothvince]

pls tell us more abt fake reboot lyds/claire?? i'm emotionally attached to this ship now too bc of you and lilliegoat

me and @lilliegoat are doin gods work by getting everyone to stan lydclaire (clairedia??? ship name needs brainstorming)

i wrote like a full fuckin episode plot and it’s so long and rambly i’m. so sorry im just PASSIONATE!!!!!

i have a claire/lydia bonding episode planned in which claire ends up stuck with lydia for a long weekend while her parents are away. beetlejuice comes up with a dumb scheme to make money and sets up this whole stupid summer camp kind of deal to make a quick buck, its super shitty and doesn’t go well and claire’s literally the only kid who shows up lmao. he regrets the plan immediately and he wants to just kick claire out to fend for herself for the weekend because He’s Beetlejuice And Claire’s Mean To His Friend, but lydia’s more kindhearted than he is and figures they cant just leave claire all on her own. because despite how much of a bully she is, she’s a person, and lydia knows what an emotionally distant father is like. so they reluctantly take her in for the weekend.

claire’s super angry/annoyed about it and acts super bratty (but she is genuinely acting out because like, her parents are neglectful and they left her on her own at this shitty summer camp or whatever while they go on a nice vacation together, and she’s hurt and upset and doesn’t understand why her parents never want to spend time with her). like. claire’s parents are super stuck up and they’ve instilled in her that anyone not on their class level is lower than them. the deetzes are rich, so charles and delia have some level of respect from the brewsters even tho they’re still looked down on, but they’re quirky and weird and that’s why they’re very much considered other, lydia especially. so it hurts her that her parents wld not only leave her, but also leave her with a family they all very much dislike. is she on the same level as the deetzes? do her parents think that lowly of her? what is she doing wrong?

so it’s rough for the first day. lydia and beej try a little to bond but they’re shut down immediately and since claires acting like a bully they just. decide they’re not gonna put up with it. so they go and hang out on their own in one of the stupid cabins beej built for this camp. and claire’s all alone, and she tries to convince herself she’s fine but she’s not. and she hears beej and lydia laughing - and she listens in, and they’re having so much fun and it hurts that she’s never had that, you know? like she has friends in the popular girls at school but they aren’t friends in the way beej and lydia are - they don’t do weird stuff and laugh at each other and stop caring what other people think. claire, in all of her relationships, is constantly trying to prove herself. but lydia and beetlejuice don’t have to prove themselves, or act like anyone else - they love each other for who they are. they dont need to change. claire wants that. claire wishes she could experience that.

so, y’know. she’s peering through the keyhole and watching lydia and beetlejuice (who by the way is disguised as betty juice for the majority of this episode, so claire is under the impression that betty’s just a normal girl however weird). and beetlejuice does something supernatural/demonic to make lydia laugh. and claire sees this, and she screams, and they realise she’s been watching them. so. lydia swings open the door and pulls claire inside and she’s like “you can’t tell anyone that beej is a ghost, claire, swear you won’t tell.” beetlejuice is being stupidly threatening in the bg and claire’s just fuckin scared out of her mind.

but she agrees not to tell, and then lyds asks why she was spying on them, and claire admits that she heard how much fun they were having and wanted to join in. and lydia’s shocked by this, but... honestly, she’s like yeah, okay. you can join in. and they teach her the game they’re playing and by the end of the night they’re all having fun and laughing! and the rest of the weekend goes like that!! claire learns to just be herself without caring what anyone thinks - she’s weird and funny and she absolutely loves making lydia laugh, and it’s a fun bonding experience all round. beej is a little reluctant to trust her, but he trusts lydia, so he and claire have kind of a ... shaky truce, where they dont particularly like each other but they’ll be civil and hang out for lydia’s sake. it’s good it’s fun it’s gay we love it.

aaaand then her parents come home. and they see their daughter, laughing and being friends with lydia and betty, dressed a little weird and tacky, just. being herself and having fun and they’re furious. they tell her in no uncertain terms that she better stop messing around right now, young lady, you’re a brewstery, we have a reputation to uphold. and claire dejectedly obeys. immediately switches back to her usual bully persona because that’s what her parents want, right? and they take her home and... that’s the episode.

after that, over the course of the next few eps, claire is back to being her usual self and acts like none of this ever happened. lydia, though, does her best to be nicer and more understanding, and tries to get her to let loose and just be herself because actually, she really fucking likes claire when she’s being herself. in another episode she joins a science project with lydia, bertha and prudence, and from that point it’s a fun slow burn enemies > friends > girlfriends kinda thing.

[yuri-puppies]

#no this is so real her saying ''you'll always be a kid to me'' lives rent free in my head #i think regardless of whether marcille acknowledges her feelings for falin as romantic she definitely plays up the older girl/younger girl #dynamic they had in school. deliberately places herself as that upperclassman who took a kid under her wing and now still fusses over them #like an older sibling. maybe not all the time bc she's had a few years to interact with falin as a peer she admires n commends + a coworker #but definitely as a fallback when she feels the threat of their relationship shifting in way she can't be certain of or a means of #naming the nature of their closeness. if you give me overnight to marinate i can link this to her lifespan difference trauma and #formative lack of peer socialization #this is why i'm team pining falin/oblivious marcille. marcille HAS to stop deflecting critical examination of their relationship by placing #falin in a category that is not romantically viable and even condescending first #anyway. op this is beautifully done and falin's resignation is so heartbreaking #i can't cast stones at marcille i've also pretended to be oblivious to gently (and not-so) let somebody down but lookit her...... #dungeon meshi (via @s-aint-elmo)

*I worship you Tumblr please don’t remove it

傳達不到的一些東西

Dumb school girl crush

[swarmkeepers]

3 & 4 for the abernant sisters? 👀 (my sister and i have been trading food we don't like that we know the other likes our whole lives and thinking of the abernants learning that kind of thoughtless intimacy between sisters... listen to me sola i know i'm predictable but listen)

3 & 4. quietly picks out the things you don’t like to eat on your plate and transfer it to theirs without you needing to ask them to & quietly gives you the things you like to eat from their own plate + adaine & aelwyn  (prompts linked here)

(post-sophomore year, in the chaos that is a mordred manor dinnertime. at lydia and ragh’s dinner table there will be rice and there will be lumpia because my diasporic half-orc agenda continues (and also if family style asian home cooking isn’t the epitome of saying i love you through food i don’t know what is, the prompt made me do it!). thank you ket i hope i did your favorite elven sisters justice)

In the house that no longer exists, Aelwyn sat at their father’s right hand, across the table from her sister. 

In this house that Aelwyn sometimes cannot really believe exists, she sits next to Adaine, sliding next to her sister on the bench they have claimed for their own because Kristen and Fig cannot be trusted to sit on a bench for fear that they will stand on it to make proclamations, or try to vault spectacularly over it instead of sliding into their seats. 

When Adaine was little she used to kick her feet under the table, restless and reckless and making it her own fault when she stubbed her toe on the table legs or banged into Aelwyn’s feet. 

Aelwyn has forgotten many things about her own life (She has lived so little of her lifespan. She wonders if what she has already forgotten will fade away, just a few months in a sea of other forgotten memories as she ages, or if she will remember their absence forever). 

But these little annoyances from childhood remain—annoying and endearing and just so, so Adaine—clear as day from when she was little too, still petty enough to remember those slights clearly. (Aelwyn wonders what memories Adaine has that she might call just so, so Aelwyn. She can’t think of anything worth remembering.)

Now Adaine doesn’t kick her sock feet but just pulls them up on the bench to tuck them under her as she sits. Something in the back part of Aelwyn’s mind reminds her that this is bad manners, but most of her honestly agrees that this is necessary at this dinner table, where the extra few inches of reach let Adaine beat Fig to the last of Lydia Barkrock’s excellent eggrolls. Aelwyn is learning things every day, lessons that come much harder to her than the effortlessness of abjurative spellwork or dragonfire conspiracies or how to flirt and act at Hudol parties. Now Aelwyn is learning to sit next to her baby sister at dinner without commenting on her feet on the chair; to dodge Ragh Barkrock as he carries a giant steaming pot of rice out to the table; to silently flick up a little arcane ward between Fig’s hand and the plate of eggrolls just in time for Fig to be distracted by Adaine starting to reach for the last one; to not be surprised when Fig starts half-jokingly hollering at Adaine for it. 

There are so many quiet things to learn and Aelwyn thinks maybe she needs to start a new spellbook to remember them all. There are so many quiet things to learn between her and Adaine, and there are so many loud things to learn about living in Mordred Manor in the bunk under her baby sister’s. On any given day Aelwyn doesn’t have nearly enough of them prepared, or maybe it’s that she doesn’t have enough slots to do all of them yet, but she wants to have them all to hand in a spellbook to try again and again and again until they come cantrip-easy. 

Next to her, Adaine is crowing gleefully with her eggroll in hand as Fig rolls her eyes and settles back in her seat. Aelwyn snaps back into focus (little things. One thing at a time) to find Ragh piling far too much rice on her plate, and she hurriedly shakes her head in a “no thank you that’s enough” because Ragh always says “tell me when to stop” and doesn’t pay attention to whether you’ve heard him. He just grins and tries to give her an elbow-bumping RVS secret handshake while also holding a very heavy pot of rice with the other arm, and Aelwyn will never have his dex but she does try to elbow bump him back. Adaine just leans over and scrapes half of Aelwyn’s rice onto her own plate, and Aelwyn’s fingers twitch to cast the same little ward to stop her. “What in the world are you doing?”

Adaine just puts Aelwyn’s plate back down, half her rice gone. “Stealing your rice!” she says as if it’s simple as anything. “Ragh gave you too much and I know you never eat more than one scoop, so I’m taking it.” She picks up a clump of rice she’d dropped on the table in the transfer—Aelwyn had noticed, and it was bothering her—and just reaches for the sauce bowl, pouring sweet chili into a little pool on her own plate and then adding a glob to Aelwyn’s own plate without even asking.

A year ago in their father’s house that no longer exists, Adaine wouldn’t have dared. Here and now in the manor, Aelwyn’s just confused. 

“Adaine!”

Her annoying, endearing little baby sister just shrugs at her. “Aren’t you going to want it for your eggroll?” 

Aelwyn looks down at her plate to see, sure enough, half of Adaine’s prized spoils of her little war with Fig on her own plate next to the rice, an eggroll broken in half with crispy skin and juicy filling. 

“You’re welcome,” Adaine says smugly, in the exact same tone that she uses to loudly declare victory over Fig in little dinner table skirmishes.

It’s good food, Lydia’s cooking unquestionably the best in the house, and eggrolls secretly are Aelwyn’s favorite of the non-waybread foods she’s started eating more of ever since moving into the Manor. Aelwyn knows more manners than to not take it. And knows better than to not say thank you.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, and Adaine just shuffles over on the bench a little to rest her head on Aelwyn’s shoulder as she munches on her own half. 

Aelwyn is learning many things but she thinks she knows what to do here, just leaning her head over on top of Adaine’s and smooshing her cheek into the top of Adaine’s hair. Adaine can probably hear her chewing and it’s probably horrifically bad manners but Aelwyn doesn’t care to remember that right now.

Here, in this house that Aelwyn pinches herself a little to remember actually exists, her baby sister is pressed into Aelwyn’s side, picking food off her plate and trading back Aelwyn’s favorites in turn. Aelwyn dips her eggroll in sweet spicy sauce and lets herself not care about manners and thinks that for once she’s sure that this moment is worth remembering. 

from the prompt list linked here! i’m closing prompts from this particular list simply because i have so many excellent ones to get through

[druid-for-hire]

Please write Orpheus and Eurydice's first proper conversation where Eurydice isn't 0.05 seconds away from falling to her death, causing Orpheus to stay in a state of low-grade panic for hours?

There’s a flyer on the floor when Eurydice comes home to her apartment. God, this shit again, she thinks, and nearly kicks it aside until she spots the familiar font plastered across the top. That’s… strange. She’s never gotten a flyer from Hermes’ bar before.

… Apparently they’re having some sort of student event all night for a few nights next week. Open mic for all the music students. Orpheus works there, doesn’t he? Is this an invitation?

Either way—the college this is for is the same as Orpheus’. She’s pretty fucking sure this is an invitation.

And if it’s not, she’ll drag him into it.

-

“You invited her?”

“Yes.”

Orpheus is a little giddy and Hermes can tell. He shakes his head, bemused, as he wipes down the counter. Orpheus is practically vibrating; the only reason he’s sitting still is that he’s too focused on tuning his guitar.

Hermes sets down his rag. “You know, she’s going to want to hear you sing.”

“I know. I’m not worried about that. She’s heard me sing lots of times.”

“Muffled through the ceiling, sure. Or outside without any real acoustics somewhere above her head. Have you thought about what song you’ll sing?”

A delay while Orpheus processes, concentrated on the tuning pegs. “No?”

“Well, you better pick something good.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

-

Orpheus is worrying.

Eurydice’s coming. She’d told him as much over the balcony, and then proceeded to pester him for an hour about why he owned a crumhorn. And he has figured out what song he’s gonna get up to sing, and he wants to really impress Eurydice with the proper equipment (and a loop pedal!), but he’s just… anxious. What if she doesn’t like it?

Oh god, what if she doesn’t like it? She’ll spurn him. Her image of him will lower and she’ll start seeing him as annoying and she’ll get irritated and stop talking to him, and then she’ll move and he’ll never see her again and then he’ll fail all his classes and die.

“I’m going to die,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” Hermes replies.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“No, she’s not.”

No, she’s not. Orpheus knows logically that none of that would happen—she wouldn’t drop his sorry behind just because he flubbed  a performance (probably), they’ve been talking for weeks now and she at least loves his music as filtered through her ceiling. And she’s so funny, and sweet and kind and badass and capable and nice and beautiful and he thinks he’d die if she rejected him from her life outright.

God, he’s gonna die. Orpheus grumbles and puts his face in his hands.

Eurydice walks through the door.

-

Orpheus mulls over how well the evening’s gone so far as he watches the next students play their set.

Eurydice’d walked in, he’d fumbled around and said hi, sat her down, got her drinks, asked if she wanted any food, he’ll go get it you chill back okay? He wanted to be hospitable. She’d just smiled and laughed and told him to go get them a salad and fries to munch on.

Bit of a weird combo, but he wasn’t gonna go complaining about getting green in his diet. (He will complain later about how he’s gonna have less money than usual, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t spend for her.)

Then they… talked. Like they usually do over the balcony, but this time with more ease and less straining and much less constant risk of teetering over a railing and falling to their deaths. It’s the first real conversation they’ve had that didn’t involve an immediate risk of dying.

“Come home with me?” he asks suddenly.

Eurydice blinks. “What?”

“After this.” He nods towards the kids on set. “Come home with me? We can keep this going and hang out properly for once. You live right downstairs, so it won’t be hard to go home. I promise my apartment’s not a mess.”

Eurydice stares at him for a long moment (Oh god I blew it, Orpheus thinks), before she snorts and starts laughing, stifling herself to keep from disturbing the performers too much. Past his faint embarrassment, he can’t help but be mesmerized. The way her face lit up—the sound of her laugh. It’s…

“Tell you what.” She waves her fork at him. “You’re a composition major, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about, scratch whatever folk song you were gonna do. I want you—“ she points her fork at him, “to get up there—“ she points to the stage, “and sing me your best. Then I’ll think about it.”

Orpheus freezes. “But it isn’t finished.”

Eurydice smirks, raising her drink to her lips. “You wanna take me home?”

“Yes.”

She looks at him over the lip of the glass. “Sing the song,” she beckons, and takes a sip just as the kids finish their set.

Oh, god.

He’s so glad there isn’t a written setlist.

Stiffly, he stands up. His guitar bumps against his side as he gets up onstage, a hello, a greeting. The spotlights are on him. Their eyes are on him. Even the hushed murmur has quieted—Orpheus is almost sick. They’re expectant, all of them; everybody wants to hear the so-called prodigy strum his lyre, but his keel got knocked over last minute and he’s not so sure anymore.

He catches Eurydice’s eye.

Okay.

He tunes his guitar and starts to play.

-

The music is lovely. The lyrics are just a story about a king, but the poetry is beautiful, and the way he sings is captivating. She’s enraptured. Every lilt, every phrase, all his diction and punctuation. Soft, but not watery, and loud, but not punchy; it’s clear and high and ethereal, almost floating, fluttery. The guitar he accompanies himself with is no less enthralling. It’s a singer too.

And then—

A swell of sound, and then he’s singing nothing but la, la la la, la la la, harmonized with himself threefold on the loop pedal , and—Eurydice’s not sure how because the bar doesn’t even have any proper acoustics. But she swears his  voice and guitar notes are falling down from every point in the ceiling. The sound rolls off of the walls and glides across the tabletops, rivers of gold in the air, and the whole bar is stunned into silence as Orpheus sings them what she can’t help but call an epic.

La, la la la, la la.

Holy shit.

Orpheus trails off. He stiffens when he realizes that every single one of the patrons is staring at him in raptured silence. The apologies start coming: “It’s a work in progress,” he stammers, “I’m not done with it yet…”

Work in progress. Holy shit.

A drunk man starts whooping before Orpheus can stew in the silence for too long, and the bar roars with applause. He flushes deeply, surprised and flattered, says “thank you for listening” into the mic and steps offstage.

Hermes comes over and slaps him on the back before he sits down. “Nice job, son.”

Orpheus, twig that he is, tries (and fails) to pretend that he didn’t just get the wind knocked out of him. “Thanks,” he wheezes.

-

That night, Orpheus takes her home, both of them a little tipsy and a hundred percent giddy. He shows her the hundreds of plants that litter his apartment (“Persephone gives them all to me, I can’t say no”) and the weird instruments that he keeps (“Orpheus, what the fuck is a crumhorn?”). He shows her his songs. He plays them all for her, from worn sheet music that’s crowded with pencilled annotations, filled with notes and warnings to himself, odd lines and marks that only he really gets. She listens to him talk about them all, about the meaning of every chord progression and suspension—and the forty-eight minute concerto he wrote for his final. She tells him stories about the hundreds of eccentric coworkers she’s worked with over her life. She’d gone to work right out of high school. All she’d ever known was how to hold her own, she tells him, and his face softens as he takes her hand and tells her that she doesn’t have to, that he’ll help any way he can. She nods and says “Alright,” then launches into how much it sucks to work in retail. He laughs loud; she laughs louder.

They talk long, long into the night, and even though she lives right in the apartment below him, it doesn’t quite feel like home when she has to leave.

[thecozycryptid]

Fantasy High gave us goblin Sherlock Holmes who pulls daring stunts, get’s picked up regularly by his friends and hides in backpacks and I still didn’t expect to fall head over heels with this series?

From the get-go as all the characters and their families were introduced I adored it! Y’all should give it a watch because it’s one of the best series I’ve seen in a while.

Special shout-out to @s-aint-elmo who’s Fantasy High fanart inspired me to draw for this series too✨

[Reblogs and comments/tags are really appreciated, click for better quality <3]

[todd-queen]

@s-aint-elmo you need a permit to be this funny

in GIDEON all the metaphors are like “rot. mold. decay.” this is to establish the decrepitude of canaan house and the visceral omnipresence of necromancy. however in HARROW all the metaphors are like “flesh. blood. organs.” this is because ianthe is there

[nenesleepyhead]

Finally I finished it, a bit late for Valentine’s Day but eh :3

Last week I saw some fanart by @s-aint-elmo (hope they are okay with that, and btw check they out because they have a really nice style) with all the Madrigal’s couples and the only thing my brain managed to think was to do this meme with Bruno and my oc 😂 they are both proud and in love with/of the other so that’s why they are both doing it 🐀💚⏳

The original idea was so cute :3

[pastatiger]

Some filler content while I work on some comics :) (Sorry for low quality)

We are really all out here,,, making minecraft related aus

Also ouch my hand hurts from writing out Tommy's tweet

LuzWasTaken is made by @/drat_that_bat and @/arxticfive on Instagram

MCPE TOH au is made by @s-aint-elmo

[gorgugplushie]

I have a dumb concept from fantasy high. Werewolf Adaine

ANON that is not a dumb concept! It's also not a new one! I recommend checking out @/s-aint-elmo they have a lot of werewolf adaine ideas ^_^

[blue-ink-pearls]

#her home is your home. you have put down deep enough roots in that house for your rooms to reflect the dynamics of your friendship: #one always pointedly a little More than the other #the way those lines imply that sam and penelope were living together for a good long while kills me (@s-aint-elmo )

is anyone else having a moment about the layers that sams family stuff adds to the penelope betrayal? like you live in her house and you call her mom mom and she puts you in a crystal to sacrifice to a dragon anyway. and then she dies and you’re alive but you’re still living in her house with her parents and her ghost down the hall

[frill-shark]

CRASHES IN AT 7:45 PM @s-aint-elmo YOUR @d20exchange GIFT,,,,I can’t apologize enough for finishing so LATE but i really hope you enjoy it!! it was a wild ride and it was super fun to write :) the abernants make me LOSE IT

[supercantaloupe]

💌👉👈

sisters and jewel tones

[ask meme]

[blue-ink-pearls]

#my favourite iteration of this so far has got to be during ayda's introduction #fig: the way that you're so transactional never allowing for any moment of tenderness. that's me and my life #everyone immediately: literally shut up you are the tenderest person we know (@s-aint-elmo )

i think one of my favorite bits in fantasy high is when fig would be like "i know i'm pretty hard to read" and the rest of the bad kids would immediately be like "we have literally never met someone more open and easier to read why would you lie about this"