#I don't have the patience to bind that many pages

[ladeedayda]

I really like TCF, and I'm interested in book binding. So of course I was curious how much "book" would be needed to adapt the whole LN. I knew it was really long, so it'd take a couple big ones to include everything. Then I did some quick calculations and um. Uh. Well, here's a little math:

50k words at the minimum comfortable size and font comes out to approximately 100 pages. The average "largest" size books contains ~600 pages (at minimum size). That being said, it would kill me to read such tiny text for very long. Realistically, a comfortable font size (for me) would be 350 per page at most, so I'll be using that number moving on.

With that in mind, some of the more popular large book series like Eragon (906k total words, largest book having 280k words or 880 (803) pages) and Harry Potter (1M 84k total, largest having 257k or 870 (735) pages).

TCF has approximately 2M 150k words, 776 chapters. In part one. Ok, so... 2,150,000 words, with 1 page being ~350 words... that's 6143 pages. And if we gave each title in the series ~800 pages each, that's still 8 GIGANTIC books. TL;DR:

Eight books, 350 words per page, 800 pages each.

For reference, here's the A Song of Ice and Fire series, 1M 770k words, 4.2k pages (~400 words per page), 5 books total (~840 pages per book).

THAT'S A LOT OF BOOK.

[highlynerdy]

"Aithusa has seen her father's mate in his memories and smelled him on her father's skin when he comes to visit, but this is the first time she gets to meet him for herself."

Nepenthe and Lavender by @0hheytherebigbadwolf

My latest fanARTifact is an entirely handlettered, handbound, and illustrated book of this beautifully fluffy fic (and it has actually been in various states of progress since March 1, 2021.) More below the cut!

So as I said above, I actually started planning this fic over two years ago. Which, yeah, I don't really want to talk about because adhd is a hell of a thing. I love love love this fic (and this entire series) and I was inspired by The Black Hours and other gorgeous manuscripts with metallic on black paper.

I ordered some black paper from Canson for the text block, used Arabic gold finetec paint mixed with water and gum arabic as my ink (I used three pans of the gold paint...), and a Nikko G nib with a straight pen holder for the calligraphy. I really wanted to use one of my broad tip nibs, but I just couldn't my Uncial letters small enough with it. I used Uncial since that was technically the alphabet/font they used in the Arthurian time period.

The paper was cut down and folded into signatures of three and then I drew out light pencil lines for the text and for the margins. Every single letter was done sooooo slooowwllly because if I messed up on one page there was no way to erase it, which meant I would have to do basically four pages worth of lettering again since they were all connected.

And I did mess up.

More than once.

I think the most heartbreaking mistake was at the very end when I was trying to erase my pencil lines and I just ripped a page completely in half. The tears were real, folks.

Once I finished lettering - which took hours and hours and hours over many weeks - it was time to assemble the text block and sew it. I used gold silk thread I had leftover from Arthur's scarf (which is also used as the backdrop for the photo shoot) to sew the block together and I love how it gives just another little peek of gold to the book.

I painted the end papers in a vaguely floral pattern with the same gold and also some silver finetec paint, glued them all together and put them in my book press and then promptly didn't work on it again from October 2022 to July 2023. Sigh.

But once I committed to getting it done, I asked @swanfloatieknight to help be my accountabilibuddy and make sure I finished it this week. I tested out so many different cover designs, from fabric and thread, to paper, to finally settling on this all over design done by my cricut. Historically accurate?? Nah. I'm about as historically accurate as BBC Merlin.

I tried my hand at gold foiling and that was a disaster so I just used a gold silk ribbon to give the color a little bit more color. Once it was bound, I painted in a triskelion and Aithusa on a double page spread I left intentionally blank.

And it was finally done!

All in all, I'm pleased with how it turned out. Was it an exercise in patience? Yes. Did I learn a lot? Also yes. Mostly that handlettering an entire fic is madness and also this is far too small to case bind, but I'm a stubborn ass and it was happening regardless.

All total, I probably worked on this for about 50+ hours. It was most definitely a labor of love and I'm so happy that it's finally done.

Thank you for inspiring me to take on such a project by writing such wonderful fics, @0hheytherebigbadwolf! And thank you for everyone who reads these long fanARTifact posts. 💛

[heich0e]

eren follows you into the stacks of the library even though you'd gotten up from your study table for the sole purpose of avoiding him when you first spotted him from across the room. 

you're quick as you take off towards the rows of labyrinthine shelves, but his long legs make him faster. before you know it, you can hear his footsteps trailing behind you as you skitter through the aisles (DDC111-DMK163 in the dewey decimal system according to the placard affixed at the end of the row.)

"how long are you gonna ignore me for?" he asks as he catches up to you, his voice lacking any of the sheepishness he ought to have as he stalks along behind someone who clearly doesn't want to speak to him.

you say nothing, and hope he gets the message that it's forever.

your eyes flicker down to the crumpled, torn corner of notebook paper where you'd hastily scrawled the reference number of the book you're looking for, trying your absolute damnedest to pretend the six-foot-something pest behind you doesn't exist at all. 

"hey," eren huffs when he sees you have no intention of acknowledging him, "hey."

before you know it, eren has you pinned against the bookshelves, an arm on either side of your head keeping you in place. he's close enough that you can smell his cologne--clean but not cloying--and feel the heat radiating through his body.

"what the fuck are you doing?" you hiss, pushing against his chest in an effort to free yourself from his hold, even though it does nothing.

"i'm just trying to get your attention," eren says, frowning.

your nose scrunches in disgust. 

"i think we both know you get plenty of attention eren,"--you duck underneath his arm, stomping away down the row of shelves as the motion sensored lights flicker on overhead--"why would you need mine?" 

"is this about hitch?" he calls after you and you freeze, your hands curling into fists at your side--the scrap of notebook paper crumpling in your hold.

"no eren, it's about you," you seethe, tossing one last furious look over your shoulder. "just like always."

"how many times do i have to tell you that nothing happened?" he asks, starting off after you again.

you've passed the shelf you needed to stop at, but your pride keeps you moving--venturing deeper and deeper into the sprawling shelves of your university library. no matter how many corners you turn, eren follows. 

you know that he's letting you maintain the distance between you as you stalk away from him. you know he could close it if he really wanted to. and finally, after three more turns (you're well and truly lost in the stacks now), he loses his patience. 

eren's arms wrap around you from behind, keeping you still. his forehead presses to your shoulder as he slumps against you. 

"nothing happened. why don't you believe me?"

maybe because history hasn't given you reason to.

maybe because you know him.

maybe because this could finally be the reason that you cut yourself free from the ties that bind you to eren yeager once and for all.

"why should i, eren?" you ask, your fingertips pressed to the back of his hands. you meant to pry them off you, but suddenly can't bring yourself to do it. 

"i know i fucked up," he murmurs behind you. "a million times. but not this one."

your nails drag bluntly against the back of his hands.

it's so painfully quiet in the stacks. surrounded on all sides by dusty old books with yellowed pages and shelving labels peeling off their cracked spines. you're far enough away from the study tables and the common areas that there's no sound other than the hum of the ventilation system overhead. the sound of eren's breathing. your heartbeat in your ears.

"i'm sorry."

you squeeze your eyes shut at the words. 

"if you didn't do anything wrong, why are you apologizing?" you ask him, your voice treacherously soft.

"because i upset you, and that's worth apologizing over."

eren is so warm draped against your back like this. he always runs hot, but his touch feels stifling. 

suffocating.

"let me make it up to you." eren tilts his face so the breath behind his words makes you shiver as it breaks against your skin. he inches forward, lips brushing the soft, sensitive patch of skin just behind your ear. "please?"

"eren..." you trail off, and before you can finish whatever complaint you were on the brink of vocalizing--whatever protest you hoped to express--eren's lips press sure and soft against your neck.

"why do you always run away?" he mumbles into your skin, "i hate it when you shut me out like that."

your knees quiver as his canine drags against your pulse point, leaning back into his touch.

eren's lips track relentlessly up the slope of your throat, along your jaw. if you were to tilt your face his mouth would be on yours, but part of you (the last sane, resolved part that hasn't yet melted under his heat) holds out.

“no,” you say quietly, leaning away from him though his grip around you stays firm. “not here.”

“there’s no one around,” eren counters, pressing a kiss just to the edge of your mouth. he turns you in his arms, so he can stare down at you. his cheeks are pink, his gaze half-lidded and earnestly sweet in a way that it has no right to be. he dips down, lips over yours like he’s waiting for you to give him permission. waiting for you to break.

your eyes flutter shut, a shuddering breath exhaled though your nose. 

you grab him by the collar of his sweatshirt and you kiss him.

eren lets out a broken little groan the moment your mouths slot together, hands gripping your waist firmly but not hard enough to hurt. he quickly maneuvers you against the stacks, his body pressing yours into the hard edge of the shelves behind you. 

“missed you,” eren murmurs against your lips, the slick sound of his tongue pressing into your mouth the only thing you register beyond your pulse pounding in your ears. “i hate when you ignore me.”

“eren,” you push weakly at his chest, trying to tilt your face away from his. he lets you pull away, staring down at you as he pants. “we can’t do this here.”

eren’s hands trail down your sides, mapping out the dips and curves he’s long-memorized. 

“why not?” he asks, not even trying to hide the pout on his rosy, kiss-bruised lips. “no one’s gonna find out.”

you glance up at him uncertainly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. 

slowly, eren sinks down to his knees in front of you, pressing kisses down your body as he goes; across your tummy, your hips, your thighs.

he peeks up at you from between your legs, his mouth just shy of the apex of your thighs that you suddenly feel throbbing as his soft green eyes meet yours. 

“let me make it up to you, yeah?”

[aquaquadrant]

hey aqua, i'm here to ramble about your stupidly amazing au that's got me bouncing off the walls between chapters being posted

firstly, i put all the fics in a doc (because you know, I gotta keep track of what i've read and haven't read, and it's totally not because i want to save it forever and pass it on to my grandchildren)

the doc contains the warnings, summaries, a/n's and everything in between but i wouldn't think it would make a huge difference to the 100K WORDCOUNT

so here is is, the horrifying word count that is honestly longer than most actual published novels and the amount of pages, which to be honest, would be larger if this was actually printed in book size (font size proportionately to the page size), to which the page number would be.... too much, honestly. even I don't want to calculate that and i'm insane

now i assume you knew all this already, since you probably have also been writing this in a google doc to keep track of it, but then again docs slows down dramatically under 397 pages of brainrot-inducing writing so i dont expect you to be using it too often. if you are, congratulations and have a gold star

it's more of i'm collecting useless bits of information like this to show to whoever has read the series, because it's so good, it's so ridiculously amazing, and it so could be turned into a book if someone tried hard enough and i need people to back me up

heck, it's written so much better compared to most novels, it's just that good. i even turn to it when i don't feel like writing. i read it, and then through some miracle, i have all the writing talent and motivation in the world, seemingly having absorbed it from your work.

tldr: htpau is amazing. if you haven't read it you should read it. and it's that good that it literally could be a book. zero exaggeration. (can you tell that this thought has kept me awake many nights)

now hopefully you weren't too baffled to see such a long ask in your inbox, and hopefully you don't question me, as someone who hasn't read a proper novel in years, who has basically reread every chapter once or twice basically as soon as it comes out

i don't need therapy, i need more of your writing. (because hels no does chapter nine end like this) ba dum tss

and then, i leave you, with a gold star and many thanks ⭐

HAGAJDHJA HOLY SHIT

i do use google docs but i make a new one for every chapter for the reason u mentioned, once they’re past a certain page count it gets real slow and i don’t have the patience for that. so uh yeah, i don’t think i ever bothered to calculate the total running word count. it’s not the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i don’t think it will be by the time i finish it, but that’s definitely a NOT INSIGNIFICANT number of words, goddamn.

someone did bind one of my fics into an actual hard cover book once, just for their own personal use. man, that was sick. now i don’t think i’d ever try to alter a fic of mine to actually publish it, cuz so much of what i write hinges too much on the original content, but fan-bindings are A-OKAY so long as i get to see pics :3

anyway, no worries about the long ask, i love hearing from u guys. i’m flattered u went thru the trouble of consolidating it and i’m glad ur enjoying the au!

[inactive02]

Loyalty binds chapter 2

a/n: after many struggles i finished the next chapter, i hope your day is going amazing and enjoy the gay love.

warnings:lots of kissing

The sound of the wooden door shutting echoed through the silence of Odin's study as Heimdall held the metal handles. He turned to his father, who sat in his cushioned chair, fingers gliding smoothly across the book, his judging eyes focused on the book he was reading. "You wanted to see me, father?" Heimdall voiced, his weight shifting slightly from the uneasy feeling in the room. Odin gazed up from the pages to look at his son with a frustrated expression.

Seeing him look up made Heimdall gaze elsewhere than at his father.

What could have him in a hissy attitude today? Heimdall questioned himself. "You know your brother's third wedding is tomorrow, right? When am I going to hear about yours?" Odin scolded, only being answered by silence from his son, the effects of the scolding showing. Deep down, Odin knew how Heimdall was with such a subject like this. Being the same as when it was the last time they talked about this.

"All-father I-"

"Cut the excuses, Heimdall!.. I gave you years, time, and patience. Then what do I get? More fucking excuses!" he yelled, the two ears in his study being met with the screech of his chair scrapping on the floor as he rose from it. Heimdall could see the anger building on his face, and the aura made the blonde man tense up.

Heimdall's slender fingers flexed from the pit, feeling conjuring up inside, "father, what do you mean? I don't need marriage to define me." Heimdall criticized, knowing the result of this argument, a never-ending turn with no end. His magenta eyes looked down at the wooden floor, fearful of looking into the eyes of disappointment. The Aesir silently cursed to himself, hearing his father's heavy footsteps approach him with ill intentions, dreadful silence filling the room once his stomps stopped.

"You think you get to choose this, wasting my blood like its cheap mead. I did NOT birth you to have it dry out, Heimdall!" Odin cursed, hands resembling what Heimdall was doing, balling them up from frustration, denial of others' choices, and not having the option to choose. Seeing Odin's hand gesture like this made Heimdall prepares for what was to come, he knew how much Odin saw him as a tool because he could hear it.

The thoughts that screamed out each time Heimdall was in Odin's presence. A heavy sigh follows up as the old man grazes his receding gray hair on his head, "furthermore, you will take the marriage I have arranged for you since you have a problem with…deciding." Odin corrected, the floor creaking under his boots as he stepped away from the young man. Again, he tries to choose for Heimdall, choosing what's best for him and not letting him decide. Hearing that he was arranging one made the Aesir's expression turn sour with irritation.

"Excuse me?" 

"You heard me, and I will not take another rebuttal from you, boy. As I said, your brother's wedding is tomorrow, and you haven't even thought of a proposal in centuries." odin said, The expression of a curious father on his wrinkled face.

"...Unless you have anything in mind," the old man theorized, leaning forward on his desk. Heimdall's thoughts ponder in question, wondering who would take him on such an offer, but then his thoughts fall on one person. Playing with fate and maybe even testing his luck with others' kindness, the worse this person could say is no.

His jaw set, preparing himself before speaking, "Ular waru." Heimdall uttered, eyeballing the all-father's expression filled with confusion and a hint of disbelief. He could hear the doubt and even see it right before him.

"The whale man's boy? What makes you think he'll play upon your offer?" Odin mocked, eyebrows raised in question.

The sound of Heimdall's nervous swallow echoed in his ears "he has an eye for me. He had it for a very long time,... so it shouldn't take long with a little convincing," he insists, words littered with lies and barely truths but how would the all-father notice this. Odin watched him closely with a cruel gleam in his one eye, listening to his son.

Odin Purring in his chest slightly as he leaned back into the wooden chair he sat in "3 months; you have three months, Heimdall, and if that boy isn't ready to marry you. We are going with my decision, no BUTS!" He warns, pointing a frail tattooed finger at Heimdall. The echoing silence filled the room again with dread before Odin decided to send him away the gesture of his hand, Heimdall turning his tail, with his loud stomping following behind. Shutting his father's door with a slam, yet still holding on to the handles, a breathy frustration leaving his lips.

He will convince Ular, and he will not fail. He refuses to yield.

A few hours passed, and after the odd deal Ular knew nothing about, his mind was elsewhere as he was assisting others in preparing for the upcoming wedding Ingmar, Sif, and thor were having tomorrow. Knowing that ingamr was getting married made Ular very excited about the event. It'll be his first time witnessing an actual wedding since the wedding he attended was for him but was arranged by his 'father' for a truce between other sea beings. 

Neverminding that, ular continued helping by using his tendrils to hang a few beautiful blue-colored henbane flowers, requested by the god of thunder himself.

Luckily, Ular had these flowers growing a good while ago out of curiosity for the beautiful colors once thor introduced them to the sea deity. Finishing off with the flowers, humming like a young boy in love as he carried crates filled with mead from one place to another, he bent down to reach for a bin on the floor, glancing at his finger and seeing old, dried-up blood, he'll have to remind himself to clean that off later. He stood straight, only to be met with an unexpected blonde visitor.

"You are very flexible, for a gigantic squid." Heimdall raved, his words followed by that classic mocking smirk he likes to flash, golden teeth gleaming.

The tense grip ular had on the bin tightened with annoyance. 

"What do you want, Heimdall?" he murmured, through his clenched teeth as he gave the Aesir a fake smile. Tension built between the two as their thoughts overflowed each other, Heimdall nervously biting his lip, striding slowly towards ular. He was not practically noticing the eight-foot man stepping back slightly to separate the distance from this.

"You better be lucky I favor you, lamb. I bumped up your privilege with the opportunity to marry someone under Odin's wing." he declared, not paying any mind to Ular's confused expression and reaching over to one of the shop owner's apples and grabbing it, examing the delicious red apple.

The caramel-skinned man double-takes on Heimdall's words. Why would he help? All these years now, he wants to try to help ular? "I’m marrying who?! and what makes you think I need your help?" he responded, setting the wooden bin he carried to the side with a slight slam, watching the skimming Aesir take a bite out of the apple he held. His Magenta eyes glared at Ular, laughing under his breath.

"Don't you want to live up here with that whale-man?"

"you mean my father," Ular corrects, without hesitating to talk back to the blonde. Heimdall sees the man continue his volunteer work to avoid throwing the watcher across the muddy ground. This problem was bound to come up eventually. Ingmar marrying the borson's meant he would have to move to the other side of the wall, and ular would still live in the house they stayed in. secretly, ular knew the loneliness would get to him sooner than he would least expect it, like how everything is out to get him.

Not hearing Heimdall even make a sound from behind him made the realization come to life that he was probably reading his mind.

" Is the poor puppy worried about being alone?" he cackled, Ular giving him a disgustful stare, then ignoring the continuous laughter. This constant banter only adds to the list of reasons why ular can't stand the spoiled man-child. 

The sea man’s jaw tightens from Heimdall’s mocking words “don’t test my patience, minha amiga. I’m not worried about that. Now, if you don’t mind, I have other things to attend to.” he responds, saving himself the trouble by speaking in his native before distancing himself from the man. Heimdall being so small-minded, couldn’t recognize the language, proceeding to brush it off and get the last laugh.

"don't forget to save me a seat at the wedding, dearest!" Heimdall mocked, still focused on Ular, walking further away from him to tune the man out. Well, it could’ve gone worse if he had told him the person was him.

This day keeps getting better by the hour for Ular.

The next day's beautiful afternoon, Guests for today's wedding were excited about the beautiful exchange of last names. Ular, standing in his room, fixes his dark-blue tunic with silver accessories. With a cuff and a few rings, adjusting the shiny silver, he glances at himself in a reflection of water he used to clean his face this morning. Watching the waters ripple in the warm water, his trace was broken by heavy footsteps that were familiar to him.

"Woah, look at you being all fancy!" Ingmar compliments, Ular expression lights up like a deer hearing this. The deity took this time to see Ingmar's wedding outfit: a blue tunic with a fur coat across his shoulders.

"me being fancy, look at you," he bellows, gesturing to Ingmar's outfit. The big man laughed it off with a slight yanking off Ula'r's arm to pull him towards his big chest, ruffling up his hair. Ingmar knew no matter how old Ular would be. He'll still treat him like his own kid, even while they make their way toward the walls of Asgard. They will be added to a more prominent family, and that family brought them happiness, a warm feeling the both of them haven't felt in a while.

Once they arrived in Asgard, the place looked as lively as ever, the beautiful flowers ular put up, gleaming like stars. Guests dressed in fitting outfits for the wedding. Seeing them all for Ingmar's wedding made them smile hard. getting closer to the great lodge, Ingmar spots his soon-to-be husband and wife, their outfits matching the colors of Ingmar's, thor looking handsome as ever and his wife Sif's bright smile. He silently murmurs to ular that'll he see him during the wedding and steps away to talk to sif and thor. Ular gave them a little wave, turning around only to be surprised by a stranger.

She was eating from a wooden bowl. Ular recognized the smell as the food being served for the wedding, and from the disgusted expression on her face, he could tell that she didn't quite enjoy the taste.

"you know, the food here tastes like vanaheim's swamp. No flavor and barely any spice. Are you the one who made this?" 

"No, I did not, ma'am,..it was those dwarves. I told them not to mess with the cooking," Ular nervously explained, the woman staring daggers into Ular's eyes with her amber ones. It felt like hours before she finally gave him a reassuring smile, handing the wooden bowl over.

"Well, next time, young man. Make sure they don't touch it," she warns, striding back to the wedding guest and maybe, grabbing more food along the way that is good. She is a fine woman but struck a chill in Ular's spine with that glare. Deciding that the interaction was a little weird, Ular roams off to find his close friends that he'd made sure to invite. Gazing at Larvisa and Leif, he couldn't help but smile, talking to them about making sure to a nice spot before it started. 

As time passed, everyone was standing in there, smiling in glee, waiting for the bride and groom to do their walk. Ular takes his place in the far backside, still having a perfect view of the walkway, slightly hearing the murmurs and whispers of the guest about the wedding. The sight of thor, thrud, and Ingmar walking together is a memory-capturing ular. He knows for sure that his father was the happiest fish man alive, the grey hair man looking off to the side as he walked, sparring a slight glance to ular. Instead of waving with his hand, Ular waved with one of his tendrils, a cheeky smile that Ingmar couldn't help but chuckle at the boy. 

Listening to their vows and the heartfelt exchange of weapons, watching thor and sif give Ingmar Mjölnir meant so much to him. the man got teary-eyed, kissing the two and hugging them so tenderly, even ular felt a few tears peaking up as well. The moment was later filled with a circle dance, sif, thor, and everyone cheering Ingmar on as he danced, clapping, and unique sounds of instruments. It was most definitely Ingmar's band. Ular knew that sound from anywhere. The deity off to the side eventually strolled away, knowing he did an excellent job with the wedding.

Ular escaped to step off to the side, behind a wall of the great lodge. At first, his golden eyes focused on the muddy ground, then his eyes cast above to see the starry night smiling wide. His moment getting ruined by footsteps approaching where he was hiding. Glaring over to the source of the sound, he sees Heimdall, the Aesir he despises.

"why aren't you dancing with them, lamb?" the familiar voice questioned, but Ular barely could understand what they were saying from their words being in a drunken slur. The tall man gazed to his side to see the familiar blonde asshole that seemed always to find him.

"I'm not much of a dancer, and are you drunk?" Ular mocked, seeing Heimdall barely able to keep his eyes wide open, his eyelids on being narrowed, magenta eyes glowing like fireflies. Wearing a silky yellow button-up tunic with many leather belts, This is the first time he has ever since the perfect aesir, drunk and slurry like a wise older man. The tone of Ular mocking him made Heimdall furious. Stomping over to him until he stood in front of the giant caramel-skinned man, reaching his pale hand out to grab Ular by the fur on his body.

"Are you mocking me?" he scowls, breath smelling like very cheap mead, Ular's expression somewhat disgusted by the smell.

"Yes, I am. You smell exactly like your brother," he notes, leaning slightly away from the drunken aesir. When Heimdall heard the very words of his brother being mentioned, His chiseled jaw tightened, Ular getting a slight taste of the man's thoughts. Hatred, disgust, and longing as Heimdall stare daggers into Ular's non-judging glares.

Heimdall Raised his free hand to point a pale finger at Ular's face. "I hate you. I hate you so much because of you and your whale of a.. goddamn father! I have to marry someone, getting the all father in such a marry fucking mood!" he voiced, anger in every word he spat at Ular, the other hand having a tight grip on the soft fur Ular wore. Heimdall glimpsed back up at Ular again, He was expecting something different, but instead, the look in Ular's eyes was sympathetic. Again, not an ounce of judgment. He had never had someone gaze at him like this, the slight movement Heimdall felt when Ular moved his hands, putting a callused hand over his small, smoothed ones.

"Hating me isn't going to get you anywhere, Heimdall," Ular's hushed voice murmurs to Heimdall. He doesn't know if the mead is doing this to him or how Ular scent comforts him. It smelled sweet, with the smell of the salty waters. The smell blinded his senses, barely noticing the small distance between them, yet still, he refused to look away from ular's golden gaze. 

A secret he'd take to the grave with him was the jealousy of others' happy romances, but right now. Seeing his hold on Ular made him want to be selfish, and he can experience it, to experience the euphoria. Feeling the tension snapping, He exhaled sharply before leaning in, closing the distance between them, and taking Ular's lips into his. The taste on Heimdall's lips was the sour taste of mead, nothing but that, the kiss feeling delightful to Heimdall, barely able to breathe. 

The air Ular took away from him as he kissed him deeply, not until the aesir pulled away. The two of them caught their breaths, Ular gazing down at Heimdall's flushed face and blissful expression, Hearing each other's breaths.

"I can't believe it. I just-.."

Ular gazed into his glowing, magenta eyes. "are you sure...about this?"

"..I surely didn't tell you to stop" heimdall whisper, licking his pink, soft lips and kissing him again into the night....

When Heimdall finally opened his eyes, they shined with lust and animalistic gaze—looking into each other's eyes one last time before Heimdall pulled him down to capture his lips again, the hint of mead still lingering on his tongue.

This moment they shared opened a new door to something fresh for the two.

[msommers]

*rubs my lil hands together* death, education, kiss, kill, and ocean for riya!

thank uuuu xoxox // oc asks: firsts

DEATH: What was your OC's first experience with death? Was it a person they knew, a pet they had, a story they heard? How did they feel about it then, and what do they remember about it now?

hmmmmm. her oldest brother goes on some fairly dangerous quests, he's probably lost one or two allies/friends along the way and i think hearing him talk about those losses would be her first experience with it. i'd say she was mostly confused and a little sad about the whole thing. confused because she'd never seen her big brother as anything but jovial and cranked up to an 11 on the energy scale (for sure a calculated display on his part) and she didn't fully understand what was happening, and then upset because He was so sad and her hugs couldn't fix it. it was incredibly hard for her to grasp the concept because regulus was Thee unkillable, insanely cool, ultra hero in her eyes and it didn't make sense that he or his dope friends could perish in battle. impossible thought, they'd just get back up again to keep fighting, duh. what she remembers now is emotion he did his very best to hide from her while she was there, and how gently her parents found a distraction to take her from the room so they could have a heart-to-heart with their son in private.

EDUCATION: What was your OC's first experience with school or education? Were they homeschooled? Apprenticed? Sent away to study? If they didn't have any kind of schooling, where did they learn about the world or pick up the skills they have now?

i imagine for some years there she was in the hands of a tutor that had been with the family since the first kid was born. some greying man who had a surprising patience for riya's struggles with retaining larger loads of information and lack of focus with studies all around, which she missed after she was moved into the circle. it took a few years for an enchanter to come around who listened to her father's explanations on how she was best taught, though it didn't make her any less bored during “proper” lessons lmao. her father would give occasional magic lessons whenever the vibe was right, and i think she received a lot of her weapons/armor training from regulus and whoever was the one to teach him years ago.

KISS: What was your OC's first kiss like? Who was it with? Do they remember it?

she's had too many kisses, i don't think riya would be able to remember which exact one was the first because she would've been so excited to get more in after that initial experience. was it the giggle-filled smooch shared in an alcove of the estate garden with the daughter of one of her mother's noble friends? or was it the quick peck given to a boy who was nearing the end of his time as a page for one of the knights of the family? who's to say, really. she remembers the little touches of the moments the best, i think. her taking the girl's hand in hers so they could return to the path after, the feel of the boy's sleeve against her fingers as she leaned in close, etc etc.

KILL: When was the first time your OC killed someone? How did they feel about it then, and do they still think about it now? If your OC has never killed before, would they? Under what circumstance?

i think? last session?? unless i've forgotten something, but i think that wombo combo of magnify gravity + binding ice was the first time riya killed somebody (not counting darkspawn, sorry besties 💜). she for sure hasn’t had much time to think about it between the murder of the knight vigilant, the departure of a party ally, and now the fresh hot off the press murder of a captured mage, but i have no doubt it’ll pop up within the next few sessions (and force me, a lazy person, to make up how she’s feeling about it all on the spot).

OCEAN: When was the first time your OC saw the ocean? How did it make them feel? If they've never seen the ocean, do they want to?

riya lived right next to the waking sea her entire life and never found it interesting until the last year or so that she spent there, when her and victor started making all sorts of fanciful travel plans which would take them beyond the waters she’s stared at for two decades. suddenly the thought of seeing the far off oceans was adventurous! exciting! romantic! and then he died and took all of that enthusiasm for the exploration with him. she’s had a little time now to grieve and take steps towards accepting their plans will never be, and it’ll likely be even more time before the party takes to an ocean (if they ever do) but i imagine there will be some melancholic energies should the journey take them there. she’s in no rush to be reminded of the dreams she shared with her love, y'know.

[asktheheirofslytherin]

The Room can contain Lethifolds. They don't really try hard to escape... and a Lethifold attack *did* pass undetected under the teachers' noses, after all. Our problem is in numbers. Took months for one only, and it was five of us working with it on daily basis. If we had more we could not give each of them this level attention and achieve the same results. Actually, we could use a plan B once we have to leave Hogwarts. Do you have somewhere in mind? As for the book... [she takes a large (1/4)

plastic box out of her bag, inside there is a book wrapped in plastic bubbles. She unwraps the it, revealing a book with a heavily ornated leather binding] It was an experimental study of some sorts... He keeps referencing to an acient wizard, Herpo, and those "Horcruxes" he created - it seems like Ekrizdis was trying to do something similar on prisoners with Dementors. I should probably study Herpo's work to understand Ekrizdis', but we had no luck finding any information about it. The (2/4)last written sentence says that he was about to begin the "final phase of the experimentation", and nothing else. It's incomplete. Something went wrong. I wish I had enough understanding of this work to guess *what*, because I am curious to know how he went from this [shows a beautifully written and decorated first page] to *this* [opens the book around its 3/4. There's half-written page, but it's mostly unreadable. The book has been stabbed and slashed with blind fury, the pages (3/4)are barely holding on, as ripped as they are, in certain points lacking whole pieces]. I wonder if the blade he used was cursed. It destroyed almost every page but a few at the beginning, and they rip like nothing when you try to turn them or to close the cuts to copy the text. Every protective, reconstructive or fortifying spell either doesn't work or wears off in minutes. It was honestly a pain to copy this one. 🦅 (4/4)

I do not doubt the rooms capabilities, though I was concerned the lethifold may have tried to escape. I am glad yours did not - though you say it attacked someone? I have a place in mind, yes...though I admit I have never attempted to keep lethifolds before, as they do seem difficult - I read on numerous occasions they weaken easily under incorrect conditions, and require a strict diet? I enjoy keeping creatures to a extent, but I certainly do not have the patience for such a thing as a lethifold. The space may have to be modified to suit them, but that will not be a great inconvenience. 

Amazing. Herpo the Foul, yes, I am quite familiar with his work. He had the very odd distinction of writing most of his notes in parseltongue, and is in fact credited for the invention of the written equivalent of the language, which virtually no one uses. I have a few of the English translations. Herpo’s greatest claim to fame, as you likely know, is the creation of the Basilisk, which I do find impressive, though I have always found his creation of the written serpent text to be his purest, and most overlooked, genius. In Dark Arts circles, however, he is most known for the development of the Horcrux than for his beast.  

It looks here as though Ekrizdis created a horcrux...or more than one? Fascinating, I do wonder how many he created. That could certainly account for his...decline. It is a dangerous and risky process, to create multiple, and could account for a great deal of his madness, especially if something had gone wrong. Final Phase...yes, something must have gone very wrong indeed.

 I imagine the blade was cursed. He may very well have been trying to destroy his work...for what purpose, I do not know. To keep secrets? To prevent anyone else from replication, and committing the same grave error? There are more efficient ways to completely destroy something, however, which makes me think the slashing was not premeditated, and must have been inflicted in a spontaneous fit of emotion. 

I believe, with my background knowledge of Herpo’s work, I could be able to make some sense of what you were able to copy and decipher. I am very eager to read this. 

[loghainmactir]

hewwo! i was wondering if u could pls give me some advice on starting my transition? ive been so scared to start bc of family and costs but ive decided to just. do it. yknow? like if i don't ill probably die lol. u look amazing and rly confident in yourself in all ur selfies and one day i wanna be Like That ✌️❤️

hi! ok, so first of all: yeah, i absolutely can give u advice, and second of all: i remember feeling exactly like you did. it literally wasn’t that long ago, either, it was like. 2013/14/15 (i can’t remember, time is fake, whatever lmao!). third of all: bless u yr so sweet. i still have a lotta issues with confidence (i doubt myself, my talent and what i can do literally hourly), but honestly? i love my body right now. it’s a good, genderless body, goddamnit.

long, long post ahead bc i’m trying to think of things i did and good god please take it with a grain of salt because a lot of this is just me ranting about things i wish I’D done in my own position. i’m also coming from a place where HRT and surgeries AREN’T free, so that’s also A Thing. everyone’s experience is different.

transitioning (particularly medically) really super fuckin varies country by country (and honestly probably even state by state, age by age and fuckin gender by gender because cis people won’t let us fucking BE goddamn): i don’t know where you are, so my only tips there r: find a trans friendly doctor/endo (i was kinda forced to go through a hospital bc That Was How It Was here in good ol’ Australia), and one people wholeheartedly recommend, if you wanna go that route.

my first point is make sure you find safe spaces in every goddamn aspect of your transition. medically, socially, physically. if you think your doctor is refusing you treatment or is discriminating against you, you NEED to ditch that doctor. if your friends and family are really verbally or physically violent against LGBT folks, you NEED to leave that space if you can (or not come out and wait until you can leave. seriously. i’m kinda lucky– my grandma was verbally violent against LGBT folks, and initially my mum was skepitcal, but i convinced them both to go to a group for LGBT+ parents and friends and they slowly turned around). get yourself friends, get yourself allies.

i cannot stress that enough. my first doctor refused to send my referral letter to the royal children’s hospital gender clinic because even tho he presented as a “nice” guy, he believed that because this was “”””out of the blue”””” for me, he figured he’d just Not Send It (and tried to tell me that a lotta kids there didn’t actually helpo, lol). so there i was, a young 15-16 year old alister, waiting like 2-3 months for something that didn’t even get fucking sent.

join trans groups on facebook and in real life. seriously, they’re a godsend; there’s buy-and-sells, advice posts, encouragement posts. ESPECIALLY local ones. most of them on facebook are private, meaning no one can see if you’re posting/in the group, and it’s easy to check if they’re not. these fb pages + local groups are good ways to find trans friendly spaces and doctors. i found my current doctor, who’s actually one of the very few doctors who knows what the fuck he’s on about re: trans people, through a real life trans group. they were like “oh, you should see x”, and even though he’s about 30-40 minutes away from me, he’s brilliant and honestly saved my life.

along those lines: figure out what you want from your transition, and then realize & accept that this may change (and it also may not change!). very early on, i was super insistent that i wanted phalloplasty and to wear packers, and now i couldn’t care less. at first, i identified as agender, and then as a trans guy/ftm, and now i identify as a Black Hole (i’m kidding, don’t @ me). like, a lotta people DON’T change their minds. but i did, some people do, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own what you want to do with your body 

(sidenote: this also goes for detransitioning or stopping medical transition but continuing to socially transition/present differently. literally, it’s fine. it’s your body. fuck anyone who says otherwise.)

again: FUCK ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE.

your body is literally your body. do NOT let anyone tell you what to do with it or who you are. i had people very early on scream at me (legitimately scream and throw me out of home, thanks grandma), tell me i wasn’t actually trans, and harrass me for this shit: but frankly, if i’d put myself back in the closet, i wouldn’t be alive right now. i would’ve killed myself years ago, and i wish i wasn’t kidding. if it’s safe, you need to stand up for your own body and your rights and put yourself somewhere that will allow you to follow through. you need to keep going and keep living.

my only other two pieces of advice are “patience, baby”– like, for real, every single part of transition takes time. this varies from where you are and who’s supporting you, but it’s generally true. it takes time for people to accept new names and pronouns 

(lotta people get furious about this, and i used to be one of those people, but hindsight’s a bitch and you gotta realize that… like, it’s hard for some cis people. you gotta give them a little bit of wiggle room, especially if they’ve never ever met a trans person before. it’s about reminders, reminders, reminders: which is SO hard if you’re not safe/don’t have the confidence. there IS a flip side to this though: if chad and stacey have known your new pronouns for months, now, and they keep “””slipping””” up, they’re not slipping up, honey. they’re doing it on purpose. kick their teeth in i’m kidding please don’t do this you know what i mean.)

it takes time for HRT to kick in. it takes time to gather a Look™ of your own you like, it takes time to build confidence to even tell people, it takes time to save up money for surgeries and it just… takes time. sometimes because it’s a naturally slow process, sometimes because cis people are Cis People and like to gatekeep. i remember being very young in my transition, sitting in the car after one of my appointments with the afformentioned shithead doctor bawling my eyes out because he’d told me i wouldn’t be able to access t for x amount of time and it was bullshit. this year i’ll be 2 years on t. wild, huh? there’s a lot of us and not equal amounts of resources (ESPECIALLY in public systems) depending on where you are, so you gotta be prepared to WAIT.

i’ll tell you what super helped me through those years: hyping myself up for other things! i still have the ticket from my first twenty one pilots show. that show meant SO much to me. i cried all through it, because waiting for that show kept my mind off of the wait for my royal children’s appointments (and even waiting to go up to melbourne bc my mum and i would go and get kebabs was a good thing to focus on!). keep things that aren’t trans related on hand (seriously i struggled with this because dysphoria and shit is fucking hard!! it’s easy to say but really fucking hard to put into practice).

(one day i’m gonna tell tyler and josh just how much they saved my goddamn life. i know they hear it weekly, but i will.)

my other thing is that uh. it won’t solve all your problems especially if you’ve got mental illnesses. this is a really fuckin depressing thing i had to drill into my brain, but it really helped. transitioning solved SO many of my issues. i no longer have back issues (thanks, like, literal kilo titties, lmao), i no longer have sore ribs and i can breathe and wear shirts. i lost so much weight (and am kinda gaining it back, but whatever). i no longer have anxiety about whether people can tell i’m binding– which is WILD because i used to stress the fuck out about it to the point where i never went out anywhere. i used to sit on the bus wondering if the person next to me could tell i had titties. now it literally doesn’t even register.

my issues now stem from PTSD, depression, BPD and ADHD. how do you fix this? you don’t. but what HAS helped is finding a therapist who won’t pressure you into talking about trans shit. lemme tell you: this shit gets exhausting after the fifth time of “oh i googled ‘can you become a boy’ when i was, like, nine” (this is my go to story because this memory is so vivid). of course, there’s gonna be moments where you HAVE to: my therapist recently actively asked me to briefly run through it for my PTSD report. but otherwise we literally haven’t talked about it and that is a GODSEND (because i don’t need it. if you need it, that’s good, too!). having a therapist that you can just wordvomit at wrt anything is literally the best thing and can be super helpful– seriously, there were a few trans-related sessions where i just snarled about the bullshit gatekeeping and the bastard i had to see for my therapist letter (oooh, every time i think abt the fact that it was something like $400-500 for two fucking sessions i get so mad lol), but outta 14 it’s really only like 2-3 of them.

but yeah. that’s it. i dunno, these are things that i’ve learnt and sorta… like to think as helpful for myself. of course, this could be different for you: you’re not me, you’re entirely different, in no doubt an entirely different country, social, financial, mental state. i was FUCKED UP when i first came out. i didn’t know that then, but i do now. i spent a lotta time by myself and that’s not healthy, so i really encourage you to reach out to our community, local and worldly, because oh my god, we’re here for you. we are SO here for you.