"It's not like it's a bad thing," Robin says, making a vain attempt to be helpful. "If anything, there's probably a lot of important magical discoveries hidden somewhere in here. Right?"
On a normal afternoon, this would be enough to reroute Edwin's spiral of stress. Today, he simply groans and presses his forehead against the library desk. Three piles of letters and parcels from eager correspondents are stacked to one side, high enough that they threaten to crash down on his head and bury him whole. Robin takes it upon himself to gently remove some of the most precarious ones with one hand, and carefully pet the top of his partner's head with the other.
"I've finally encountered too much academic theory," he hears plaintively from Edwin a few moments later. "Robin, I didn't know that was possible."
"Well," Robin says. "I suppose there's a first time for everything."
It's fortunate that Edwin is face-down on the desk, because Robin's having trouble controlling his fond smile. The mundanity of the situation is...endearing. Sue him. It's nice to be worried about things like too many people who want to share their opinions on this strange new land-based magic system. It's nice to be not quite as worried about getting killed on a day-to-day basis.
"Have you considered setting yourself a schedule, or holding monthly meetings?" he says, making sure his smile isn't audible. "It might make this a little more bearable. I'm sure that Adelaide and I could help -"
"I have considered becoming a hermit," Edwin says, in a tone of voice that could almost be considered petulant. "I think that would solve all my problems."
"But then I wouldn't get the chance to see you, dear."
Robin bends down and slowly kisses the back of Edwin's neck, slowly. He's rewarded by a full-body shiver, which very visibly travels down the entirety of Edwin's spine. Perfect. When magic fails, there are other manners of distraction. "And that would be such a shame."
i'm late to the party but for the fic writer ask: 7, 12, 14, 17 and 19 (maybe the last one for penumbra fics specifically :D)
idk if it counts as late if you're the ONLY one who shows up to the party and by party i mean askmeme lmaoo
7. Share the first line of your five most recently published fics. ooooooo okay this should be interesting. first lines of the FULL fics bc if i try to figure out chapters i'll go insane. Also whoah i need more dynamic opening lines, i think:
The Beast In On His Chain: [The screeching halt of an injury is complete anathema to Sir Damien; it drives him nearly to madness every single time.]
Lulling: [Rilla always just happens to have Damien stop by when she has an appointment involving a baby, whether it's for the kid, or just a newer parent who she knows is likely to bring the baby along for their own appointment.]
Empty: [Lord Arum wakes to an empty bed and thinks-]
By The Arm To The Altar: ["He... won't be attending the dinner, either."]
this pile of leaves (is where we'll stay): [Arum is, slowly, growing somewhat more used to... relaxing.]
12. What fandom do you want to write for more often? oh i misread this at first as "what fandom DO you write for most often" and i was going to laugh and laugh. I really do wish i could kick any of my Megamind fics into gear! besides that i have... a few naddpod ideas that make me wish i had the brainspace for them asap. god. naddpod brainrot.
14. What two fandoms would you write a crossover for? uhhhhhhh. hmmmm..... i don't think about crossovers often I guess? uhh. something something smash second citadel together with the harp in the hallows somehow.
17. What trope is your favorite to write? hurt/comfort? If we're getting wide and general? falling asleep together for specifics
19. What headcanon do you always include in your stories? ah man it's hard to even differentiate that from just the weird mental landscape i've created for myself. Probably the oldest and most consistent is that Arum doesn't eat meat, despite his threats to the contrary.
"No," Alan says, when he opens his bedroom door to Maud's blindingly innocent smile. "No, no, absolutely not. I don't care what it is. I refuse to get arrested for you again."
"I did not get you arrested," Maud counters. To her credit, the smile doesn't falter for a second. She leans on the doorframe "I was indisposed via possession at the time. You got yourself arrested all on your own."
"Have you considered becoming a lawyer?" Alan isn't quite rude enough to slam the door in her face, but he's certainly considering it. "I'm pretty sure there are several members of the House of Lords that you could loophole into an early grave."
Maud just laughs at that. It's a lovely laugh. It really is. It's not hard to like the woman - except when she's making Alan's life a mild hell, which is most days. Then again, when he first met this group of people, she was the only one not advocating for his memory wipe or murder. That's always been a permanent point in her favor.
"We're going on a field trip," Maud says, grabbing Alan's hand and pulling him out of the room. He protests with a half-hearted tug, but her grip is ironclad. “You’re the only one who's not out of town or in a meeting, and I’m sure it’ll be utterly scandalous if I’m seen at the circus without a male chaperone, so get your coat.”
“Your reputation really can’t suffer any more,” Alan says, before the remainder of the sentence processes in his head. He stumbles to a halt halfway down the stairs so abruptly that Maud bangs her hip into the banister with a yelp of shock. “The circus? The circus, Maud? Really?”
“It’s going to be fun! And adventurous. Don't tell me you've got a problem with adventure; you used to be a jewel thief!"
“Only on a technicality.” Alan rubs at the bridge of his nose with his free hand. A headache has started to sprout like a small seedling, threatening to plant roots behind his eyes. “Your reputation actually might suffer from this, though. And more importantly, your brother will kill me.”
“Robin doesn’t need to know,” Maud says stoutly. Damn it, she’s giving him that look of utter steel-clad certainty again, the one where she’s absolutely sure she can pull off a plan without a hitch. “It’s free entry today. We can get popcorn. You can buy some new tawdry romance novels.”
“I’m offended. They won’t be nearly as good as mine.”
“Exactly. We’ll make fun of them, and give them scathing reviews.” Maud grins. Damn it all. Alan mentally starts to steel himself for the excuses he’ll undoubtedly have to make to Robin Blythe in a couple hours’ time. “Come on. Loosen up a little, Alan. Prepare to be amazed.”
sneaking in here to request 14 for any character combo from the last binding you'd like to do
The suit is a dark, mossy green, with burnished gold accents at the collar and cuffs. It looks - well, it looks expensive. It makes Alan look expensive, a fact which is causing his head to swim with a strange cocktail of feelings. Confusion, primarily. Also frustration, and interest, and anger, and concern. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s barely midday.
He stares at himself in the dressing room mirror, worrying his teeth against the scarred skin of his lower lip. The suit fits well. It feels nice. This shop is one that he wouldn't have been able to get within fifty feet of, a year ago. Well, he might have considered robbing it, if he'd been desperate enough.
Now, he has no need to rob it. Now, he's here and he doesn't even need any money in his pockets, because a certain Lord Hawthorne has a standing arrangement with the in-house tailor.
Madonna santa. How the world has changed.
"You look quite attractive, darling," Violet says from behind him. "I think this is the one."
Alan is proud to report that he does not scream and jump five feet into the air, thank you very much. Instead, he manages to contain his spike of panic into a single stumble and a choked-off expletive.
Violet grins at him in an awfully shark-like manner. She's wearing a purple gown dripping with blue gems and silver lace. On anyone else, it would be ostentatious. On her, it's somehow tasteful, which is a small miracle.
"Are you trying to cause another scandal?" he asks. Unfortunately, that’s always a relevant question when it comes to Violet Debenham. “The clerks will talk if they see us in here together.”
“I’m quite sure our dear Lord Hawthorne pays them enough to look the other way.”
That’s almost certainly true. Alan rolls his eyes, watching the movement of Violet’s fingers as she tugs lightly at his collar, stretching it this way and that. She purses her lips thoughtfully and examines the ensemble, sizing Alan up as if he’s about to go onstage for some grand audition.
Well. In a way, he is. All of them are. Robin and Adelaide’s wedding will be exactly as high-profile as the Blythe family name commands. More so because it’s the middle of the summer; the gossip networks of the city are parched for fresh meat. Alan’s been hard-pressed to find a single moment of free time, amidst his continued efforts to keep their collective names out of every tabloid in London proper.
“Nothing,” he says. “It’s nothing. Leave me be. You’re supposed to talk me out of this, Violet. Say it’s the wrong shade for my complexion, or some nonsense. Why aren’t you doing that?”
“It’s a good fit,” Violet says, drawing him back to himself. “You really should get it. It'll be perfectly acceptable for all of upper society."
She must see when something shifts in his expression. Her eyebrow shoots up, and she taps one fingernail lightly against the back of Alan’s wrist, searching. “What?”
“Don’t try to fool me, Mr. Ross. You know what I do for a living.”
“You kiss Maud and cause problems,” Alan mumbles. “Oh, I’m well aware.”
That gets a startled little giggle out of Violet, caught off guard. A sense of accomplishment settles, begrudgingly pleasant, in the pit of Alan’s stomach.
“Well, yes,” she says, and smirks at him. “But I know when someone’s putting up a front. You’re an excellent writer, Ross, but your acting skills need a bit of work.”
See? This is exactly why Alan would have preferred to go shopping with Robin, or Edwin. Robin would have had the decency to ignore any damned emotions that Alan was trapped in an inconvenient wrestling match with. Edwin would have brought a book so engaging that he simply wouldn’t have noticed the problems in the first place. Damn it all.
“It’s strange,” he finally bites out, when it becomes clear that he’s not leaving this dressing room without giving Violet some form of answer. “The - the gift-giving. That’s all. I’m adjusting to your fancy ways, Miss Debenham. Not all of us are used to suits that fit this well.”
Sometimes it still feels like charity, he doesn’t say. Like condescension. Like a trick. “Gifts freely exchanged,” that’s the deal - and it’s Jack, Jack Alston, Lord bloody fucking Hawthorne, who made the deal. So the worst part is that I actually believe him.
Violet’s certainly not the one he would expect to understand. Given birthright and background, she’s leagues closer to Jack than she’ll ever be to him. She’s got a queer expression on her face when he sneaks a glimpse at her, though. It’s a sort of lip-bitten, harried look, one that’s much more honest than she normally lets slip through.
It’s gone a moment later, smoothly papered over by the mask of a woman confident and calm, utterly in charge. But it was there, nonetheless.
He doesn’t quite know if she meant for him to see it.
“It’s dreadful, isn’t it?” she says lightly, brushing dust from his cufflinks. “Places like these. The clerks do gossip. I hate having to get new outfits for each season. I much preferred the company costumes, back in America."
"Company costumes?"
Alan casts around in his mind for knowledge of the theatrical term, calling on all the late-night reviews he's had to slog through writing for the paper. Nothing comes up.
"Those stock dresses that they had for all the girls like me." Violet explains wistfully. A jeweled pin glistens in her hat; it catches and refracts rays of light as she turns her head. "They didn't fit, of course. But there was something freeing about it anyway. I didn't owe anyone for the bill. I didn't owe anyone a me."
"Just Violet," Alan says. "No "Debenham.""
A particular kind of freedom. It's a hungry and brutal one, but it's one he's cherished for many years. The ability to shapeshift has often been the only one he's had to hold onto.
"Exactly, Mr. Ross."
Violet smiles at him. It's the exasperated smile of a comrade-in-arms, tinged with the grin of a devilish trickster god. There's simply no way that any of them are staying out of the papers this summer, is there? Not when she and Maud are raring for mischief.
"You should still get the suit, though," she says. "Forgive my pragmatism, but one well-made blazer won't change the world, for better or worse. And we both know that Jack will go mad the second he sees you wearing it, don't we?"
i'm back on my bullshit (aka more last binding prompts): #2 for maud and jack
It's not an easy anniversary, which is something Jack intimately understands. Each time it rolls around, he makes a point of extending the same courtesies to Robin and Maud that he always appreciates people extending to him about Elsie. Act like it's a normal day. Make a point of spending time in the same space, doing nice, quiet, engagingly idle tasks. Give the grief room to live, but not enough room to fester.
It's a little easier this year because Robin and Edwin are out of town at a conference, so Jack's attention can go solely to the younger of the two. When he walks through the front door of the old Blythe residence, a few minutes early for four o'clock tea, she's not in the library.
Unperturbed, he ghosts his way along the baseboards to the smallest sitting room. Maud perches in an armchair beneath the Sargent-painted portrait of her mother, her legs crossed and a book in her hands. From the look in her eyes, she hasn't really read a word of it.
"Am I too early?" he says, playing at nonchalance.
Apparently, he didn't creak the door loudly enough to announce his presence. When Maud starts and looks up at him, her eyes are misty. He's not sure if the tears are grief or fury. Perhaps a bit of both.
"Damn it," she says. "Oh, I lost track of time. Fuck. I completely forgot."
"Watch your language, Maud," Jack mutters. "You'll get some comments outside, if you carry on like that."
Immediately, half of his thoughts insist that sarcasm and biting comments are not the right move towards a young woman who's still processing the loss of her parents. The other half of his thoughts is proven correct when Maud laughs, the reprimand pulling a half-smile out of her, mischievous and contrary. It's only there for a second, but still. That's something, at the very least.
"Well, the world can go fuck itself too," she says breezily, snapping the book shut and tossing it to the floor. She swishes past Jack and out into the hallway, making a beeline for the dining room. "We'll have to make do with yesterday's leftovers, Lord Hawthorne. I'm sure you won't mind."
"Not at all," Jack says, when what he's really thinking is you're too young to hate the world. It's not like he has any grounds to make such a claim. He's been exactly as furious at everyone and everything for almost as long as Maud has. Loss will do that to you, no matter who the people were. "Lead the way."
I honestly prefer to write in the morning - I think it's because I write so much in the evening, late at night when things always seem tough to tackle and badly done, which isn't at all the case later! I like writing in the early morning and then coming back to it to edit in the afternoon.
🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?
OOOH. hmm......I'd love to write for anyone from Wolf 359, to be honest. Especially SI5, because I think they're fascinating.
📚 Do you read your own fic?
I do!! The vast majority of my fic is absolutely written from the impetus of "I desperately want to read a story where..." so it's tailor-made for me to enjoy.
🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?
Ooooh. For me, it's a tie between the initial drafting and the rejection of perfectionism. As someone that also writes original works and wants to be published, I keep having to remind myself that the fanfic is for fun, and for free, and a gift for me and the reader, and it doesn't have to be perfect.
hi it's me annoying you with my request to answer all of the ask game questions for the soupmates <3333 feel free to skip those that dont apply or you dont like tho :'D
you're never annoying <3 ty for still being The soupmates fan lol
Gonna put this under a cut because I skipped 0 questions and it got long
1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?
You lmao. As I've said, big part of why I'm actually writing it down! Re: the way I wrote it though, I've basically always written stuff with lots of POV switches, I like to see the differences between people's attitudes and levels of knowledge. If I ever write a story where everyone in it starts with all the same facts, I've probably been replaced by a pod person
2: What scene did you first put down?
I write chronologically, so that first scene with Ariel and Bethany was the first thing I wrote
3: What’s your favorite line of narration?
Ariel wasn’t the sort to leave things up to chance any more. Anyone could have seen, and anyone could have turned them in, so there were no fireballs or ice storms for them. No mage’s staff. In Kirkwall, it was all down to daggers and luck.
Sometimes that luck seemed too good to be true. Sometimes Ariel moved faster than a person really ought to be able to, and sometimes the idiots trying to kill them tripped over thin air. Only the paranoid would call that magic.
Join me in my apostate Hawke as a rogue agenda
4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?
When Justice in his chapter 1 section remarks on Wade and Herren being soulmates with
“I do not see it. This doesn’t happen to spirits,”
mostly because I immediately said "Ha, incorrect" to myself lmao. Justice himself obviously, but using Wade and Herren was an extra joke because idc what the creators said, if Herren is a desire demon in Darkspawn Chronicles, I believe that it's true for every timeline
5: What part was hardest to write?
Can I say the chapter I'm working on rn? I am being very picky about the first meeting because it's pretty essential in a soulmate au
6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?
I've never written for this ot3 before, or actually published anything for Ariel or DA2 as a whole. It's fun to get into Kirkwall! Also there are some pretty big time jumps between scenes, which I have done before but not in stuff that follows a set plot like a video games, so it's neat to kind of work into the spaces in an existing timeline
7: Where did the title come from?
The song Out There from Hunchback of Notre Dame lmfao. I'm just glad it wasn't actually called omg they were soupmates at this point
8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?
Not really
9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?
Not for the overarching plot but I did have a Lot of back and forth over certain details like Anders and Karl's relationship, when different scenes happen and from whose POV, where this story ends, etc
10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?
because I love them <3 more seriously, because I love Justice, and I'm sad he's barely a character in DA2, especially because he's so interesting about love in Awakening, and I wanted him to be an equal part of the story. Also because they're the weirdest option in a soulmate au, so I get to poke at the "rules" of the genre
11: What do you like best about this fic?
writing Ariel is so fun! purple Hawke you will always be an icon
12: What do you like least about this fic?
Balancing the different POVs has been stressing me out a little, I know it doesn't actually matter that much but I do want them to be at least roughly equal
13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?
I don't listen to my character playlists while writing, because I can't write and hear lyrics at the same time, so I've just been putting on youtube mixes of fantasy writing instrumentals lol
14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?
ummm Justice is amazing and you should love him
15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
this is the fic that got me to commit to small daily increments of writing instead of waiting for inspiration to hit, which we've all heard plenty of times but finally hit me on this one
"The Woods" by San Fermin. perhaps the all time creepiest and most excellent eldritch upbeat song I know. I got this from a playlist for Faulkner from The Silt Verses, too, and given his history with wandering out into the woods....yeah. yeah, that tie is there, in my brain.
10. a song that you want to eat like a piece of candy
right now it's "Verse" by Chrissy Chlapecka. I've had it on repeat absolutely incessantly. it's so peppy and poppy and cheerleader-y on purpose. the central sting is such an excellent innuendo that it makes me grin every single time. top tier track.
