#this is the NICHEST thing I've EVER WRITTEN

[elenothar]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 猎罪图鉴 | Under the Skin (TV 2022), 你安全吗 | Are You Safe (TV), 很想很想你 | Love Me Love My Voice (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shen Yi (Under the Skin 2022) & Qin Huai (Are You Safe) & Mo Qingcheng, Du Cheng & Shen Yi (Under the Skin 2022) Characters: Shen Yi (Under the Skin 2022), Qin Huai (Are You Safe), Mo Qingcheng, Du Cheng (Under the Skin 2022) Additional Tags: Crossover, the wider tan jianci universe, Siblings, shen yi and du cheng have their usual undefined Thing, Family Dynamics Summary:

Separated for years, three brothers find each other again.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Please correct me if I am wrong. The subject matter is a little niche.

Description: Alastor reencounters an old friend.

Word Count: 2,871

Master Lists:

All Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

A/N i’ve been reading about roman magic laws for school okay?? don’t judge me. Maybe one of the nichest things I've ever written (except that one Akutagawa x Reader fic I have on my Wattpad where I made them talk to one another in ancient Greek and Latin (its called Leo, Leonis and tbh, that fic slaps if I do say so myself)). Won't be surprised if no one reads or likes this one but I don't care. This will be a monster of a fic, she's been lurking in the recesses of my mind for a hot second now.

"Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn't accept her?" Charlie was animatedly talking at Alastor as they walked the streets of Hell, "What about me, ME, says un understanding... misunderstanding?... Disunder- Wait, w-where are we?"

Alastor sprung to life as Charlie finally asked a question he had an answer to. Theatrically, he stepped into her curious line of sight, his arms held wide.

"Cannibal Town!" respectfully, Alastor turned and took Charlie's arm in his own, "There's a friend of mine I think you should meet."

"In Cannibal Town?" Charlie doubtfully asked as Alastor began to lead her towards a crowded shop entrance, "But it's... it's... surprisingly nice here."

"Isn't it, though?" Alastor proudly replied, "And it is all thanks to a very special someone."

Alastor opened the stained glass doors to the emporium, allowing Charlie to walk through them before he followed in her wake. The store was full, packed to the brim with cannibals of all sorts, all of whom seemed to part respectfully in the face of Alastor, allowing him to approach the front counter with Charlie trailing after him.

"Ah, Johnny my good fellow." Alastor hummed to the cashier, leaning casually on the counter.

The demon seated behind the table looked up with a wide smile.

"Mister Alastor, it has been quite a while since we've seen your face around these parts."

Charlie watched the interaction in mild surprise. It wasn't often she had the pleasure of meeting someone Alastor knew who didn't hate him or want him dead. Curiosity clouded her mind as Alastor waved the man off.

"I don't mean to be rude but, we're in a bit of a rush." Alastor said, politeness pooling delicately around his words, "Rosie wouldn't happen to be in, would she?"

"Ah, well, you see, Mister Alastor..." the demon seemed slightly uncomfortable, scratching at his ear slightly, "She's a tad... preoccupied at the moment?"

"A guest?" Alastor asked.

"A guest." Johnny reluctantly confirmed.

"Well, no matter. Is she in the back?"

"Yes," Johnny got to his feet, leaning forward as Alastor linked arms with Charlie once again, leading her behind the counter, "but I really don't think it's a good idea to... and they're gone."

"Wasn't that rude?" Charlie asked as Alastor pulled her behind the curtain that separated the main store from the backrooms and Rosie's apartment, "Oh no, is that guy going to get in trouble? Because of us?"

"Everything will be just fine my dear, don't you worry." Alastor patted her hand reassuringly as they came to stop before a door.

Letting Charlie's arm fall free, he straightened his jacket just the slightest bit before knocking on the door. There was a moment of silent anticipation before a voice from the other side called:

"Who is it?!"

"Alastor, Rosie." Alastor replied calmly.

There was a rustling of fabric, a handful of hasty footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal a woman. She was tall and beautiful in her long dress and her wide brimmed hat.

"Oh my stars!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor? Alastor! Where have you been? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and-"

The woman, Rosie, trailed off as she caught sight of Charlie standing beside her dear friend.

"Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you. Oh, I'm just kidding. But where are your manners, Mister? Introduce us, why don't you?"

"Ah, yes, Charlie, this is Rosie: the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram."

At his words, Rosie smiled, giving a perfect curtsy. It was as her form lowered that Charlie caught sight of the interior of the room, and the strange seated figure it housed. Alastor seemed not to have noticed and as Rosie straightened herself up again, she laughed slightly.

"Oh, always such a charmer."

"And Rosie," Alastor continued, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell."

Charlie smiled weakly, waving slightly at the imposing and nearly off-puttingly cheerful woman.

"How do you do?" she asked awkwardly, "I am very sorry for interrupting your meeting, I tried to get Alastor to wait but..."

"Oh, yes!" Rosie suddenly exclaimed, almost as if she had forgotten about her previous guest in all the excitement, "Come on in you two, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie was about to protest when Rosie grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the room. Alastor followed, turning his back as he shut the door behind them. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes finally saw the truth of Rosie's guest.

She was tall, probably tall enough to rival Alastor or Rosie herself. Skin tinged slightly blue, she seemed to be covered in a faint gold dust that clung to her draped, toga-like dress and skin in equal amount. Heaps of gold jewelry hung on every inch of her as well, wrapping her wrists, her neck, her ankles, her fingers, even braided into her hair. Resting atop her head was a crown of gold with a half moon on it, her feet were bare. With wide, white eyes that nearly seemed unseeing, the woman watched Charlie carefully.

"Can I offer you something to eat?" Rosie was asking, but Charlie could barley hear her, unable to break eye contact with the woman, "I'm sure I have a leg around here or something..."

"I am afraid were not here for food." Alastor thankfully stepped in, turning to Rosie with closed eyes and a wide smile, "We happen to be in need of some help."

"Alastor?" the woman spoke and her voice resounded in itself, loud yet soft at the same time, singular and yet somehow plural.

"Well, aren't you fresh."

That was the first thing she had ever said to him. Alastor had been wandering Hell, minding his own business when he had heard that voice say those words and felt a fire ignited in him. Slowly, he had turned around to see a pair of towering demons. Overlords, he realized, and big ones at that. Alastor's smile sharpened at its edges as he began to formulate a plan.

Charlie turned at last, as if whatever spell the stranger had cast on her had broken at the sound of her voice, to look at Alastor in mild confusion. She heard his breath hitch in his throat. The man in question was frozen, his ears twitching wildly, his eyes now wide open.

"Is that you?" the demon asked again.

Alastor somehow seemed to reassemble himself before their very eyes. Slowly, he turned to the room's only occupied chair.

"Who are you?"

Alastor feigned innocence, looking up at the titan herself as she took a step forward. In an instant, she stood at his height, looking him dead in the eyes.

"An odd one too." she hummed thoughtfully, white eyes tracking the stars, reading his future it almost seemed, "Most people go with what before who."

Alastor was unsure how to respond to that one. The titan chuckled, a grin flashing across her face. It was unexpected, disconcerting. Alastor hadn't thought her face capable of any expression save solemn disinterest. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Zestial, cara mea?"

The spidery demon took a step forward, meeting her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have something you need to be getting to?"

Alastor may have been dumbstruck, but he wasn't stupid. He heard the order as clearly as if she had not bothered with the formalities of disguising it. It shocked Alastor to his core. This might be his first time encountering Zestial but, he had heard the demon's name before. Most frequently, it had been spat at him by his victims who claimed that one of Hell's oldest and most respected demons would come for him. So who was this other overlord, the titan? Sure, he'd heard of her before but enough that such blatant disrespect towards Hell's most respected made sense? No. Not at all, in fact.

Zestial paused a moment before bowing his head slightly.

"You're quite right." he hummed, "I will be seeing you presently I expect?"

"Perchance." the titan lazily replied, her gaze having long since switched back to Alastor, set on analyzing his features, "I'll let you know."

With another polite bow, Zestial had turned and began walking in the opposite direction. The titan held an arm out for Alastor. He looked at it curiously before meeting the demon's eye's again. She laughed.

"So suspicious. I thought you we're the one killing overlords, not me."

His eyes went wide.

"How do you..." he cleared his throat, "how did you know?"

It was a stupid question and he knew it. There hadn't been any secret keeping, not really. Sure, he never outright said he was the Radio Demon who broadcasted screams but he supposed there couldn't be many Radio Demon's out there really. It didn't matter that he had only been going after overlords for a month or so now, she was one. Of course she would know.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

All it took was one look. Suddenly, he was new again, spat fresh out of life on Earth and in to Hell's gaping maw. One look at her, and he dissolved at the edges, forming and reforming his own ability to speak and comprehend the world around him.

"It is." the woman hummed, a wide smile breaking across her face, revealing the blackness of her teeth, her mouth.

Alastor soon formed a bit of a soft spot for the inhuman overlord. It was that first meeting, that first walk. He had asked, hunting for information to wield against her, about her life on Earth and in Hell. It was her fault really, for answering. That's what had him stuck.

Y/n had laid her life out for him like a freshly pressed table cloth. She had been raised on the streets of ancient Rome and executed as a witch. She was perhaps the oldest demon remaining in Hell, the exterminations having eventually wiped out even the strongest members of her times. Just as Alastor had been reborn as a deer due to his death, so too was she reborn as what they had accused her of. Every ritual, every spell, prophecy itself all worked for her. It was then Alastor understood the interaction he had witnessed between Zestial and Y/n, then he understood the respect.

He found himself drawn to her more and more and, somehow, he always seemed to be able to find her when he went searching. He assumed it was some strange magical nonsense she controlled. Alastor didn't question it.

Y/n showed him Hell in a way he had never seen it before. She taught him where to gather herbs and how to use them, how to bend the earth to his will, how to spin iunges and call down the storms, the rain, the moon. Alastor devoured, fed by her hand.

It was odd, Charlie had never seen a demon like her before. The white eyes, the teeth black with what seemed to be darkness, the gold. All of it was off putting yet somehow, captivating. Alastor seemed to be acting weird, his eyes flitting wildly across the woman, taking in her every detail. Charlie wasn't sure what to do about that.

In some sense, Alastor seemed to be scared. In another, he was in an overjoyed state of disbelief. Charlie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, or how to respond to either and so, she simply watched.

"I have a question, mea ocella."

Y/n announced one day and Alastor turned from where he sat spinning stories into his microphone at her feet. That was what she had called him, her little eye. She told him it was a term of endearment. Alastor had no reason to doubt. The red grass swayed slightly in the breeze as he looked up at her, immediately bringing a halt to his broadcast.

"What is it?"

"You've been so set on ending all us overlords for so long now," she hummed, "wouldn't you like to do something different?"

"Something like what?"

"See from the other side of the glass."

Her white eyes glowed blue, the gold on her skin shining out into the world around like stars. Alastor sighed.

"You're prophesying again."

She nodded in agreement. Y/n had never seen the point in lying, she had never known its use. Not since before she could remember, back in the times she lived. They were so distant now, so immaterial and unimportant she rarely payed those memories much mind.

"So, what is it you see me doing?"

"Simple riddle or play on words?"

The two types of prophesy, the two options. Alastor put a finger to his chin, humming in thought.

"Simple riddle. Please, not in dactylic hexameter if you would, decoding that always gives me a headache."

"But that has been the meter of prophecy since Justice herself sat on the Delphic throne, mea ocella." Y/n retorted in surprise, meeting Alastor's eyes.

"Yeah, well."

Y/n laughed lightly, looking back out blankly toward the future.

"As you wish, ocella. Just this once. My gift to you."

Alastor hummed his non-comital thanks, turning his gaze back out the the skyline of the city as well.

"One will be two, two will be four, when that number comes be ready for more. Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next. Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three."

"Rhymes? Really?"

Y/n looked down at him, the glow fading from her as their eyes met and the future vanished from the scope of her vision.

"You asked for no hexameter, I still get to have fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Alastor ran the words of her fortune in his head, trying to gain any semblance of reason from them.

"They don't sound very... avoidable."

"That's because it's not one of the ones you can change."

"Oh."

Y/n pulled herself to her feet suddenly, her chiton swirling around her. Alastor watched in awe as her image flickered in the air for a moment between the image of herself just a head shorter than him, the one who loomed around nine feet tall, and some three headed monster at what must've been five stories. Leaning, she held a hand out for him to grasp. It took Alastor a moment to realize, shaking his head slightly as he at last accepted Y/n's help and got to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"I've decided you are going to be an overlord, mea ocella."

"Why?"

"I think it might help you down the line."

It had been years since Alastor had seen her. Long before he had taken his so called seven year sabbatical, Y/n had vanished. Alastor knew she wasn't dead, he would have been able to tell if she was dead. Surly the world would have shifted in some new and strange way to lose the goddess of the crossroads, the titan, Hekate made flesh and blood. Nothing like that had happened and so he knew she was alive, just not where or how.

Y/n's prophecies were always accurate. Standing here before her now, Alastor recalled her words from all those decades before.

One will be two, two will be four. When that number comes, be ready for more.

One had been just him. Two? When he had died and met his shadow. Alastor realized now that three had been Y/n herself and that the fourth important person who had come into his afterlife was the very person who owned his soul.

Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next.

Seven years he'd been gone, indeed under an unexpected and disastrous situation. When, after seven long years, he had returned to Hell, he had gone to the hotel. It was at the Hazbin Hotel that he not only met Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Sir Pentious but that they became vital parts of his life along with Husk and Nifty who before then had mostly existed on the periphery. Those six, plus the original four, made ten.

Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three.

All along, all those years ago, she had known. Alastor had always respected Y/n, always harbored a soft and disconcerting love for the witch. Never before now had either felt so overwhelming. Alastor took a trembling step forward from his place at Charlie's side. The world closed in, she was the only thing he could see.

Y/n smiled as he sunk to his knee before her, his head bowed.

"Mea ocella." she happily hummed, lifting his head up gently with the tips of her bluish grey fingers.

"Y/n."

----

This fic will probably have a part two.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

[notasapleasure]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

I've been tidying out my likes and remembered @elwenyere's open invitation tags on this, too, so here we go!

sshysmm's works on ao3 (user name is a ref to my old tumblr)

1) How many works do you have on ao3

128 (and I think I'm missing some of the band AU stuff I never moved over from the blog @theartistknownaslymond…)

2) What's your ao3 word count?

1,038,645 words. haha. what the fuck.

3) What fandoms do you write for?

Actively, right now: Star Wars (particularly Andor; previously Rogue One and a few spin-off novels), the Lymond Chronicles, and I do very much intend to return to my fics for And Then We Danced.

I have also written for Ripper Street, The Terror, The Musketeers (don't look! don't look! it's my 'now can i remember how to write fic after over a decade out of fandom fic) and Utopia (another one it would be cool to add to after I get a chance to rewatch).

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

good god they're all Jyn/Cassian. it's the only big ship I've written for I suppose

Be alright tomorrow (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian) Hope in the air (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian) Singer, save our secular souls (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian) To steal what she never could own (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian) Delayed gratification (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian)

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to!! Sometimes when I'm deep in the writing hole I just stay away from ao3 so as not to ?? idk?? make myself feel guilty? get distracted? so it can take me a while to respond.

When people are reading updates as I post them I try to respond quicker! I like to respond to acknowledge how grateful I am to people who took the time to read and cheerlead and say something nice. To show I appreciate it and the time they spent on it. If it possibly leads to discussion about what's going on in the fic then so much the better!

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably just Hope in the Air, for sticking with the canon Rogue One ending and leaning into the sense that even if he got to a bacta tank, Cassian's in a pretty bad way. Also Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing (Ripper Street), again for…following canon, dealing with Deborah's decision to stop seeing Reid and Emily's descent into a place where Reid feels he has to have her sent to the asylum.

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Jerott wish-fulfilment!! The ransoun made, the prisoneris redeemit (Lymond Chronicles, Francis/Jerott).

8) Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I've had any hate on ao3, no. Some blunt comments when I hadn't done my research on aurebesh well enough/resued a plot device, but not hate.

9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes? All kinds? Idk, I'm trying to get more creative, though traditionally I think I write emotionally knotty, not-always-satisfying sex that does heavily lifting on the characterisation. And is also hot.

10) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't posted it on ao3 yet, but there's the Lymond Chronicles 1980s band AU crossover with And Then We Danced, which is just like. The nichest of nichey niches. Can't believe there are like three people who might read it, so it's still not as unpopular as a medieval Icelandic saga au of a niche Andor ship written in the first person. I didn't go out of my way to drive readers away, I swear!!! Please give The Saga of the Coal-biter and the Skraeling a chance, it's my precious baby.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, lol. I think more people would need to want to read my fics first.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'm open to it if anyone wants! I have had two podfics made of my works, which has been lovely!

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, though there was a fun Lymond Pawn in Frankincense AU which started as me and @erinaceina spit-balling about Philippa getting captured by GRM and Khaireddin surviving, and @stripedroseandsketchpads wrote some nice whumpy scenes about it!

14) What's your all time favorite ship?

Oh, usually whatever I'm writing at any given time. Faramir/Éowyn was formative influences, though.

15) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I really don't like admitting that I don't think I'll finish something. I do have 17 subscribers(!!??) to a Lord Bateman (Child ballad 53) inspired Rogue One AU (What would you give?) so even though finishing that is very low down my priorities I'd hate to say outright that I wouldn't return to it.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Emotion, description, description of emotion… capturing micro-expressions and little tics that define a character. Because of this I think I'm pretty good at making people in-character even in weird settings. Writing people who aren't good or bad, just flawed and affected by their lived experiences. Creating an atmosphere. Also, when I pull it off, making you laugh one moment at something ridiculous and then sucker-punching you in the gut :')

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

That when I'm asked to think of my strengths I go blank. That I constantly, constantly overthink things when I've posted them in case I wrote something that will be horribly misunderstood or just actively bore established readers into giving up. The fear that what I enjoy writing is so inherently dull no one else will enjoy reading it, that I'm not setting out to 'write fic' but to write something pretentious and beautiful and that's not what anyone reads fic for. Also oh my god I need to learn brevity. Simple plots. Don't overthink the plot Jo. I what-if my plots to death and then find myself disgusted by all the ways they're inadequate. Actually what all this comes down to is a controlling urge in my writing: I want to control every detail of this scene, including where the information is lacking, and I worry that if I leave anything to chance I'll be misunderstood. But at the same time I love ambiguity and gaps and leaving things open to interpretation. Inside me there are two wolves and one adores unanswered questions while the other suffers from a neurodivergent urge to info-dump in order to make sure everything is clear.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'd love to quote from Umberto Eco's author's note to The Name of the Rose, where he argued with his publisher about keeping Latin dialogue in! Ony my copy of the book is in storage. Also there's the whole…I'm a fan of the Lymond Chronicles. If there isn't untranslated dialogue in at least five different languages why are you bothering? And yeah I very much did learn a language because of a film and then spent a lot of time considering how communicating in this language as opposed to English would affect the dialogue and interactions I was writing. So yes, dialogue in another language when it's properly contextualised is good - not when it's random phrases of unnecessary Space Spanish because someone's exoticising Diego Luna.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

I'm of the generation where it was inevitably H*rry P*tter, if we're talking internet published fanfic. But as a kid I did keep diaries full of drawings and stories about Sandokan the tiger and Bucky O'Hare.

20) Favorite fic you've ever written?

I have like. Post-partum depression about the saga AU right now because seeing it interact with the world makes me doubt myself horribly, but realistically, it's my beloved child. It's just having to carry all my grad school trauma as well as all my past Star Wars fandom trauma and you know what?? It's good enough to do that. It is. It's the first of a trilogy, and I WILL finish the trilogy.

As previously said by elwenyere: Open tags for anyone who would like to play!!! This was very fun: @ me with your answers if you'd like to join. <3<3<3

[radioprune]

g, h, i :)

(this is @charlesandkeef btw)

hi kay!

G: Care to share a favorite crack fic? tbh, i'm not even sure what qualifies as a crack fic. i'm not even sure if i've ever read one. the wackiest thing i've ever written, which maybe answers this question, is my mash truman show au where hawkeye realizes he's in a tv show lol

H: How would you describe your style? ummmm hmm. my style really is an amalgam of all the writers' styles i admire, and when i'm writing for mash i tend to (at least try to) evoke a lot of vonnegut and heller. i think it's a bit meandering (though i kind of mean that in a good way), like i like to take my time to describe small moments in real time. i try to trust my audience and not explain too much, but that's something i'm still working on

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)? hmm i'm not sure! i pretty much write what i like to read, so if there's anything in there that qualifies as a guilty pleasure let me know. if anything i definitely enjoy gratuitous references and allusions and will include them to the nichest things in the world just for me and i really dont care if others get them aslkdjsalkj

fanfic asks :-)

[flaresanimedump]

Just 24 hours to go until I can post my day 7 fic, my most self-indulgent ridiculousness ever, the nichest possible AU applied to a rarepair ship with all of 15 people left in it in English fandom meaning absolutely no one but me will care about it, and my favorite thing I've written in years--

[theiloveyousong]

this is the nichest thing i've ever written audience of 1 and it's me bitch

[bi-snark]

Admittedly it’s been over a decade since I was in guard (oh my god what the fuck), but 

I present to you option 4: The staves are weighted perfectly

Bc I don’t know about ya’ll, but weighting the different flags at the beginning of a season was always such a production, and you could move pretty damn fast if the flag was weighted correctly for what you were trying to do. Maybe not quite dragon age levels of fast (because OP is right, those planes are ridiculous), but I digress.

Galaxy brain take: the mages are all walking around with just a shit ton of washers on their staves. There’s Hot Discourse about the proper weighting for different magical disciplines. People are writing whole-ass academic takedowns destroying their opponents from different circles.

(You thought the fraternities were bad, but academic rivalries transcend circle politics. No where is safe. Hell is everywhere.)

There’s this upstart in Ostwick who argues that unweighted staves are most effective for casting spirit-discipline spells because washers disrupt the purity of the magic, and literally everyone else is just Okay Charles but the rest of us would like to be able to cast a spell this century, fuck!!! What the fuck are you gonna do in an emergency, ask the abominations to chill for five minutes while you channel some healing??? Nope! You’ll die motherfucker!!!

Then in the White Spire there’s a primal specialist who claims you need minimum seven washers to be even remotely efficient, but practically no one wants to be carrying around that many spares in their supply packs. I don’t want to jingle when I walk, Susan. -- Well maybe if you tied your washers down properly in the first place you wouldn’t need spares, Megara! 

Literally no one is as insufferable as Arcane Warriors and Battlemages. Every single one of them weights their shit uniquely, and they will not shut up about how their way is superior.

Anyway what I’m saying is god help the apprentice who shows up to staff spinning with the wrong number of washers on their practice staff. RIP.

so as someone who spins a 6 foot pole for sport, i’d like to point something out:

the mages from dragon age rly do be whipping their staves around SO FAST

like i tried to spin my flag pole as quickly as they do, but the planes they’re cutting through and the pathways mean that it’s near impossible to move that quickly

so three possibilities exist:

1. the staves are really light (i’m ruling this one out bc we can see the materials they’re made of and given some of them are solid metal, they probably weigh more than my flag)

2. the magic is what makes the staves travel so fast (this could be entirely possible, BUT if casting spells is anything like spinning a flag, it would be dangerous to let the magic have too much control, that shit will fly out of your hands, trust me)

3. the mages are just really strong (we’ve all seen male mage hawke...)

[adhdzagreus]

Baisemain, beautiful forgotten things :3

Baisemain - A kiss on the hand.

I’m dedicating every day to youDomestic life was never quite my styleWhen you smile, you knock me out, I fall apartAnd I thought I was so smart((Dear Theodosia – Hamilton: an American Musical) 

Moments like these were his favorites, and they only came very rarely so they had to be savored. The life of a reigning emperor was a busy one, and there was almost always something that required his attention, but right now, he had a moment of peace, where nothing required his attention, and he could focus solely on his wife who, thankfully, also had a moment to herself. 

She was seated in her library with books spread out around her and a small boy on her knee. She was smiling at the boy, who was not quite a year old, and talking to him in a gentle voice. Her long dark hair was pulled away from her face, and she looked tired but happy as she played with her son. Roark felt at ease for the first time all day as he watched her from the doorway of the library, admiring how beautiful she was despite her tiredness and how good she was with their son. 

“Do you know who I am?” she cooed, pointing at herself. “Who am I?” 

The baby boy in her lap giggled like this was all a marvelous game. “Mama!” 

Kyoko beamed and ruffled her son’s hair. “That’s right! Aren’t you clever?” 

“He takes after his mother in that regard,” Roark said from the doorway. 

Kyoko turned to look at her husband, smiling. “Roark! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was quiet,” he said. He strode over to her and took her hand, bending to press an affectionate kiss to the back of it. “How are you?” Today had been so whirlwind he felt as though he’d barely spoken to her at all. 

“I’m well,” she said, squeezing his hand and letting it go to continue playing with her son. “Gascon is too, aren’t you, love?” She booped him on the nose, and he giggled happily.

“That’s good,” Roark said. He sat down in the chair beside her and looked at the pair of them. His family was so beautiful. He heaved a sigh. 

“You’ve been working so much lately,” she said. “We both have. I think we’re due for some time off.” 

He nodded slightly. She was right of course, though he wasn’t too optimistic about their chances of that. He was needed here. These were dark times. The Empire needed a strong hand to survive them. “I’ll see what I can do,” he told her. 

She smiled at him, and he started thinking about what he would need to do to secure some free time and how best to do it. “Thank you, my love.” 

“For you, anything,” he said. 

She started to say something, but the boy on her lap tugged at her hair and she laughed. “No, no, don’t do that.” She pulled her hair out of his grasp and swept it over her shoulder. 

He pouted. “No!” He made a grab for her hair but missed. “No!” he said again. 

“You’re very stubborn,” Kyoko told him. “I’m not going to give you my hair. You’ll have to find something else to play with.”

Roark watched all this with interest. His experience with very small children had been limited up until now as he’d never had any siblings or younger cousins. They were quite a mystery to him. At least Kyoko seemed to know what she was doing. 

This nice moment was interrupted by someone appearing in the doorway. Judging from his clothing, he worked in engineering. “Your Majesties,” he said. 

Kyoko turned her head to look at him. “Oh, Victor,” she said. “Is something wrong?” 

“We could use your help in engineering, Empress,” he said. “We’re having difficulty integrating the magical elements with the machinery.” 

She frowned. “What seems to be the problem?” 

“Well, Your Majesty, it, um, keeps exploding.” 

Kyoko looked alarmed. “That isn’t good. I’ll be right there.” 

“Thank you, Empress.” 

Kyoko picked up the boy on her lap and stood. “Here. Watch him for me please.” She handed Gascon to Roark who looked at her in confusion. “What?” 

“I’ll be right back,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, love.” 

“…alright,” he said. She followed the engineer off to see what the damage was, and Roark looked down at the small child in his lap, not sure what he was supposed to do with this. 

“Mama,” the boy said, pouting. 

Roark shook his head. “No, she went to check on engineering. They’re always on the verge of catastrophe.”  

“Mama!” he said again, more insistently. 

“She’s not here. I know. I wish she was too.” Roark stared down at his son contemplatively. Gascon didn’t look very much like Kyoko. He had curly dark brown hair and matching brown eyes. Roark supposed he also had those things so perhaps his son looked like him. 

The boy tugged on his clothes and said, “Down!” 

Roark got the picture. “You can’t walk, can you?” He thought he would’ve known about it if so, but Gascon continued to squirm so Roark set him on the ground. He stood on his own for a minute which Roark was quite impressed by and then got down on the floor and started crawling around. He was surprisingly fast as he went over to a bookshelf and started pawing at the books. They were too dense for him to easily pull down with his small baby hands, but he was determined to try. 

After a moment, he succeeded in pulling a tome off the bottom shelf. It thudded against the stone floor, and he made a happy noise, haphazardly turning through the pages. 

Hm. That was probably not a good idea. Roark stood up and went over to the bookshelf. “That isn’t for you,” he said, bending down to pry the book from his son’s hands. “That’s your mother’s book. She’ll be upset if you tear it.”

“No…” Gascon whined. 

“Yes,” Roark countered, putting the book back in its place. 

The boy whimpered sadly, his small face falling. Roark did not care for it. It made him feel bad. Gascon started to cry, and Roark really did not care for that. The sound grated on his ears. He looked around for something to give his son to appease him. There wasn’t much. Most of the baby things were kept in the nursery not the library. 

Roark sighed and sat down on the floor beside him. “Stop that.” This did nothing to help matters, and he didn’t know why he’d expected it to. The little boy continued to cry. Roark was pretty sure he was doing it just to make him feel bad. 

“Fine, fine, you can have the book, but don’t tear it,” Roark conceded. He got the book back out and laid it open flat on the floor in front of his son. 

After a moment, Gascon stopped crying and Roark sighed in relief even when he started haphazardly turning through pages again. Roark watched him carefully to make sure he didn’t damage the book. 

He didn’t possess the dexterity to turn through the pages individually, but Gascon seemed to be enjoying himself as he flipped through dozens of pages at a time. 

“What book is this anyway?” Roark leaned over to look at it. It was full of cramped writing and diagrams of machinery. He had no idea why that would be interesting to a one-year old. It was barely interesting to him. 

Nevertheless, Gascon continued to flip through the pages and babble to himself. After a moment, Roark realized he was pretending to read it outloud. He was willing to bet he was imitating Kyoko. 

This wasn’t so bad. It was actually rather peaceful. After a few more moments, he heard footsteps, and he turned to see Kyoko entering, a smile on her beautiful face. “You seem to be getting along rather well,” she said. 

“I suppose,” Roark said, looking up at her from the floor. 

“Mama!” The little boy abandoned his book and pulled himself to a standing position using the bookcase. He tottered over to his mother and latched onto her leg. 

Roark frowned. “Is that new?” 

“Oh, it is!” Kyoko said in delight, bending down to pick up her boy. “You did so well, love,” she praised. “I’m very proud of you.” 

Roark stood up and went over to them, nodding. “Yes, very good,” he said. “Is everything all right in engineering?” 

“I took care of it,” she said, smiling. “Everything is well.” 

[nymph1e]

so this star wars hyperfixation of mine really is just still going. Usually they last for... a week, maybe two? I'm sitting here at like... two months? This might genuinely be the longest hyperfixation i've ever had.

ANyway I've gone completely insane and am writing a series of fics set in the AU premise that Cal Kestis finds Luke during the Obi-Wan Kenobi show, and trains him to be a jedi. Will it be the nichest thing I have ever written? Yes. Am I already finished planning and am up to the first draft stage? Also yes. Did I just spend the last 24 hours watching legends youtube videos and am now planning a sequel Ezra & Thrawn in the unknown regions fic? Also Yes. Will anyone read this? No.

[thetourguidebarbie]

NaNoWriMo Project

Since I've been asked by a few anons how writing is going, for those of you who are not in the Klaroline discord, I would like you all to know that I am, in fact, writing, and it's a nano project.

It is, by far, the nichest thing I've ever written. TVD x HP crossover Caroline and Hermione time-travel to 1944 with simultaneous Tomione and Klaroline plotlines that are both the slowest of burns. I have no idea who the target audience for this is. I have 50k words already, and it'll probably end up being ~125k at the end (unless I need to expand parts, which is entirely possible).

I really really hope you guys are as excited for this as I am. I can't wait to share it with you guys, hopefully in December ;)

If you want sneak peeks, let me know, because as you are all aware I thrive on validation.

Summary below cut.

When Hermione, Harry, and Ron arrive in a small Virginia town with a long supernatural history on the hunt for horcruxes, they're ambushed and drawn into a deadly battle. Hermione escapes by the skin of her teeth, but Ron, Harry, and the witch showing them around the area weren't so lucky. Overcome by grief, she and the witch's vampire friend plot to time travel back to 1945, change the timeline, and save their friends in the process.

Hermione's job is to get close enough to Tom Riddle for him to entrust her with his horcruxes. She obliviates and forges her way into becoming Hermione Yaxley, and sets her sights on being the only female member of the Knights of Walpurgis. Unfortunately, there's a small hitch in Hermione's "make Tom Riddle trust her and then kill him before he becomes a monster" plan: her own stupid feelings.

Meanwhile, Caroline is tasked with gathering the ingredients to send them back to the future, one of which requires cooperation from a certain Original vampire. She strikes a deal with Klaus: Her help on his hunt for the deathly hallows in exchange for one measly vial of his blood.

**Though familiarity with Harry Potter canon is necessary to understand this story, I have been VERY careful to make it readable for those who have not seen The Vampire Diaries. You might not get every single reference, but you should never be lost. This is a Tomione-centric story at heart.**

[elenothar]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers!

tagged by @extraordinarilyextreme and @the-marron <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

136

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,189,813

3. What fandoms do you write for?

all over the place. at the moment, mostly 猎罪图鉴 | Under the Skin and other tan jianci-related fandoms

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

lay down your sweet and weary head (16k)

Attachment Issues (11.8k)

Roar (8.7k)

when in doubt (trust a wizard to set everything right) (4.6k)

Arrest the Sun (4.2k)

Nothing at all recent, lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

almost 100%, yes. if the comment is rude i won't engage with it, and there are a couple of older fics that i've stopped responding to comments on because my mind has disconnected from them

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i mostly write happy endings, particularly in recent years. one of my older fic (when the sun goes down (and no stars light the night)) is probably the angstiest

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

not sure how to rate happy endings, really? as i said, almost all my fic has happy endings

8. Do you get hate on fics?

rarely, and not recently

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

no

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i do (slightly guiltily) enjoy writing crossovers occasionally. none of them were particularly crazy, but the latest one (half the trouble) is certainly the nichest thing i've ever written, since it's a crossover between Under the Skin and Are You Safe?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of/i hope not

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes. Recast was written by five of us

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

i really can't choose. but also i tend to get more attached to specific characters than specific pairings

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i've got only one unfinished work on AO3 (Satellites - a star wars prequels AU), and i still like the concept but it's been too long at this point...

16. What are your writing strengths?

characterisation, probably?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

plot

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

an interesting thought exercise! i think a lot about using single words/phrases from other languages and when/if it's appropriate - i think having more than that quickly gets you into a problem of reader comprehension, but it'd still be neat to try at some point, maybe with footnotes or hover translations

19. First fandom you wrote for?

on AO3 it's the MCU. on other platforms it's Star Wars prequels. on paper scraps, probably LOTR

20. Favorite fic you've written?

oh come on, what an unanswerable question 😅

(Intelligible, if you make me answer at gunpoint)

tagging: @eirenical, @sasamelons, @forerussake, @presumenothing, @foxofninetales, @hils79