#dbda snippet

[idliketobeatree]

(gif by mellxncollie)

@wordsinhaled was wondering if "edwin thought he was gonna get kissed here. the way he like. almost draws himself up a little like he's not ready omg. or what he thought charles was gonna say"

and. in another universe.

—

Edwin sees Charles' eyes flutter close as he moves in. His confession hangs in the air, heavy and flaming like the wisps of Hell lapping at their heels and everything comes to a halt when he creaks out, "wait!"

Charles stills. The air around them, too.

"Oh— shit, I mean— sorry!"

And Edwin is in a desperate need for another breath but his lungs are too full, pleurae stretched to their capacities. He shakes his head quickly, almost throwing them off-balance, down the staircase, to where the demon spider-doll's mantles are steadily dripping with Edwin's real blood, to certain fucking doom. And then he thinks, hysterically, I wasn't ready. I don't look nice. My mouth tastes like blood. I've been crying—

"No, you misunderstand, I want this— I want you. I am merely—"

What a terrible time, for Charles to not understand what he's trying to say at all.

[idliketobeatree]

"No, no, Edwin, stay with me, c'mon," Charles mouths, his hands blissfully cool on Edwin's cheeks, them – and the forehead pressed against his own – the only things still tethering Edwin to consciousness.

But he can feel himself slipping away. Second by second, the wiry black threads of the witch's curse seep into the edges of vision like poisoned tea leaves in hot water. It would almost be soothing, he thinks, this strange, stock-still lake blackness, were it not threatening to swallow Charles whole too.

His mouth trembles when Charles presses his thumb to the lip, frowning.

"Has it gone into your… God, Edwin, can you speak?"

Edwin tries. He really does, but what comes out is a warbled attempt at a name that fails to reassure Charles.

"Shit. Shit. Hey, no, it's fine, you're okay, I'm sure we can… Crystal will…"

Charles' eyes widen slightly.

"You and Crystal. You'll know what to do, won't you? You're both the brains."

And something determined and desperate crosses his face, a deep consternation that Edwin recognises as Charles wrestling between two equally bad choices. In their line of work, it happens almost weekly.

To think, he takes to stroking the apple of Edwin's cheek.

It's a soothing gesture. Almost reverent.

Edwin could cry from it, if only the curse let him.

"Please forgive me," Charles says. Edwin thinks it's Charles, even though he doesn't sound much like Charles anymore.

And there is a swipe of a cool tongue, a complete, mind-numbing shock of a different quality than what Edwin's been fighting with for the past several minutes. An apology and a blessing pressed to his lips. It lasts a short forever, the quiet before an explosion of Charles sucking Edwin's lower lip in and biting. Edwin moans into the pleasure-pain of it, something like ink leaking out from the split, covering Charles' full, reddened lips and seeping through them, taking root, his coal-dark eyes fluttering shut. The next time they open, half of Charles' whites are throbbing and pulsing with disease.

It works, the twisted transfer, Edwin sees as clear as day. He shakes his head before tears can blur it all; Charles sinks to the floor right there, in his arms, in uncontrollable convulsions.

“Come on, come back to me, Edwin”

[carebeardean]

modern!charles would text edwin pictures of, like, otters holding paws with the caption “u & me :—)” & those “me when I look at u:🥹🥰😭” memes Before he even realizes he wants to kiss Edwin on the mouth, btw. edwin thinks he is the Loveliest Best Friend of All Time & saves each & every one to his camera roll

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

fic snippet (coffeeshop au)

Edwin was no longer going to the coffee shop for the coffee. He was unwilling to admit it to anyone yet, but he was going for Charles. Charles, who liked the same sorts of stories he did; Charles, who used odd, interesting-to-study phrases from a bygone decade; Charles, whose lips looked soft and hard at the same time, whose hair he wished to thread his hands through and –

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Edwin murmured to himself as he approached the front of the line. Such thoughts would not do today. He had a lecture in an hour.

He ordered his café au lait, paid, and moved to talk to Charles as he prepared it. “So, to continue our conversation from yesterday,” he said, “you are a fan of Holmes?”

“Just the BBC show,” Charles said, looking faintly embarrassed. Edwin wondered why.

“I have not seen it before,” Edwin told him.

“It��s on Hulu.”

“I do not have Hulu, but I am certain that my friend Niko will allow me to use hers.”

“Ah.” Charles spoke in too casual a voice as he poured the milk into Edwin’s coffee. “Girlfriend?”

“No,” Edwin said. “I am gay.”

“Oh, that’s sick,” Charles said. “I’m bi, so we’re, like, the same.”

The heavens opened. Birds sang. Edwin left the coffee shop feeling like the world was a place of wonderful glory and beautiful majesty.

[hephanna]

hey!! do you have any idea of when you're going to update don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me)?

I don't mean to rush you, I'm sorry to bother you with this but I'm going a little crazy with the waiting and I've kinda lost count of how many times I've read the first chapter by now hahaha

hope you're doing great!! thank you for your writing ❤

Thank you so much for your interest!! I have about 5000 words written so far for the final installment of don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me) so I am hoping to get the last bit written & then edit it within the next couple of days! Thank you so much for your wait, as well, I've been meaning to get to updating, unfortunately I was away from my house for awhile, but now I'm getting back on track ^_^ Here is a little unedited snippet (so I apologize for any errors) of what's to come! (Some good old Charles & Rowland bonding - nothing like talking to yourself from an alternate dimension) SNIPPET:

And speaking of wandering hands and the Edwin in the other dimension… “Hey, isn’t your boyfriend gonna be a bit pissed when he finds out you’ve been snogging someone else in another universe?”

Rowland stared at him in bewilderment. “My boyfriend is Edwin, and I’ve been kissing Edwin. What’s there to be mad about?”

“Maybe because they aren’t the same Edwin?”

Rowland tilted his head. “So, if you met Edwin from another universe, you’d what? Treat him differently?”

Charles twitched, awkwardly drumming his fingers against his trousers, pulled firm over his trembling knees. Would he be able to treat someone who wore Edwin’s face like a stranger? Someone that had the same sharp arch to their eyebrows, the same bright glint in their green eyes, the same smirk when they said something clever? That didn’t settle right in Charles, as if he had swallowed a heavy lump of concrete. Of course, if Edwin, any version of Edwin, stood in front of him Charles would still treat him as his best mate. Would still defend him with everything he had, promise to protect him from the world. Edwin was Edwin was Edwin. And yet...

“That’s different," Charles said sharply, "I’d just be treating him like a best mate not like a… not like a-.”

“Like a lover?” Rowland interrupted. “Okay, that’s your choice. But Edwin is my lover. I love him. He is my beloved. That’s never going to change.”

Charles coughed. Fuck, Rowland was cheesy. He’d never heard himself sound so sappy before. But it was almost sweet, in a way. How obviously in love with Edwin this version of himself was. Lover - beloved - somehow the words expressed more sentiment than boyfriend could ever come close to.

It made Charles feel kind of shite about himself, if he was being honest. This was a Charles that was able to give Edwin everything he desired, who would have heard his confession in Hell – Charles, I’m in love with you – and been able to respond back with a deep kiss and his own whispered confession, instead of Charles’ desperate ‘we’ll sort it out later’ that he had uttered, although he had tried, in his own way, to reassure Edwin that he was the most important person in the world to him.

Still, a part of him couldn’t help but also feel bad for that other Edwin. He was actually shagging Rowland – Charles wasn’t shagging Edwin, and he was admittedly furious about Rowland putting the moves on him. Every version of Edwin Payne, no matter what, deserved the utmost devotion.

“He’s gonna be jealous though, ain’t he? I just think you should be treating him better,” Charles said, crossing his arms and glaring.

Shockingly, Rowland didn’t look at all offended. In fact, he tossed his head back and laughed, bright and happy. “You are me! You actually, literally are me.”

“Huh?”

Rowland let his head relax back against the couch, tilting his head to the side and grinning. “Charles Rowland Instincts 101 – defend Edwin Payne at all costs. You haven’t even met my Edwin yet, and you’re batting for him.”

[alt-ernativewonderland]

when the dead boy detectives score gets released and the full song from the hug scene in episode 5 isn't included

[read-write-thrive]

Charles Rowland Week Day Four - Alive/headcanon

I ended up having to skip Day 3 bc my health is shit rn but I’m back for day four of @charles-rowland-week !!!! (definitely on the later side but shhhh let me have this) With everything going on I don’t have much time for fic writing and it felt like a cop out to just list my Charles headcanons (not to mention I have zero capacity for creativity rn so it would just be regurgitating from elsewhere on my blog). Ultimately I was inspired by the WIP games going around and decided to give y’all a sneak peak into my “Best Friend’s Brother” fic!!! I’ve also talked about this fic here if it sounds familiar lol. The whole fic is one big exploration of a headcanon I have for when Charles was alive so it felt fitting. It’s short but hope y’all enjoy ❤️

~~~

Charles didn’t have a lot of fond memories from when he was alive. I mean, feels a bit dark and depressing to put it like that, but it was true. His life hadn’t been a walk in the park. His dad was shit, his mom looked the other way, and pretty much anything potentially good was tainted by that. Friends in primary school? Not allowed to come over to his house, which meant he stopped getting invited to others’, which meant said friendships didn’t last. Cricket games? Even when they won it was bittersweet to see that neither of his parents had bothered to show up. Dating as he got a bit older? Couldn’t exactly bring a girl home, now could he? So he made sure it never got that far. It wasn’t hard, in the end. Relationships prior to age seventeen rarely last long enough to go home and meet the parents anyway. He assumed that sort of thing came as you got older, but he wouldn’t ever find out in the end.

Anyway, all that to say he didn’t have a lot of happy memories. But there were a few, and he’d come to cherish them more and more over the years. Meeting Edwin was always top of the list (yeah, he’d died, whatever) but there were a few outside of that too. The only time he got to meet his maternal grandmother, for example. She’d flown into London for Charles’s sixth birthday (which coincided with the wedding preparations for one of his mom’s cousins, if he remembered rightly, which made it a more worthwhile trip) and stayed for a whole week. The entire time she was around, Charles latched onto her side and refused to leave, as she gave him sweets and prevented his father from hitting him. Those punishments came back around once she left, of course, but it was still one of his favourite memories. He always reminisces about it around his birthday, or when around sweets, or when he runs into people speaking Hindi or Punjabi. All of which happened somewhat frequently in London—for better or worse for Charles’s mental health.

[alexrod-dbd]

I can’t resist sharing this, so here’s a snippet of The Inescapable Melody’s next chapter 👀

“What is it that you do not understand in do not disrupt me?”

“I have very selective hearing.”

“And I have very important work to do.”

“Should’ve thought about that before going into a very popular coffee shop.” Charles grins again.

Edwin sighs. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Do you ever stop being so grumpy?”

“Charles.”

“Edwin.”

“Stop that!”

Stay tuned! (And if you’re wondering, yes, I’m giggling so hard writing this.)

[coraline-piange]

AAAAH morni g after au with the word uhhhh surprise!!!!

a snippet with "surprise", coming right up!!!

Three days before his birthday, Charles wakes up to a text from his mum.

“Hello, beta,” it reads, because his mum believes in proper address even through text, “Will you come over on Saturday for dinner? Your dad will be out for the game. Yours, mum.”

He doesn't know what to respond. He doesn't even know why it takes him by surprise. His mum has sent him this exact text every year since he's moved out. It's like the worst version of groundhog day, wrapped up with guilt and longing and anger.

if you want more snippets, send me a word 👀

[gundamthey17]

Day 2 of Payneland Promptfest 2024

I know I'm a month late, but December ended up being a hell of a month. I do still intend to write all 7 prompts, so hopefully people aren't totally sick of holiday-themed stories yet. (It's still the holidays, right? lol)

Day 2: frostbite | “How did you even find this?” | getting dressed up

“Crystal!” Charles said excitedly.

“Gah!” Crystal jumped. “Don't startle me like that! You do know it's early, don't you?”

“No, I didn't. I don't sleep,” he replied. Unbothered, he barrelled on. “Have you heard of ugly Christmas jumpers? Or, wait, what do you call them? Sweaters? Ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Yes, Charles, I've heard of them. What about them?”

“I just saw someone wearing one. They were big in the eighties. I can't believe they're still popular!”

“I don't know about still. More like again.”

“Do you know where to get them?”

“Uh… lots of places. Thrift stores probably have the best ones.”

“Can we go?”

“You want to go shopping. For ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Yeah! It'll be brills!”

Crystal yawned and shrugged. “Fine by me, I guess.” It wasn't as if she'd had any other plans for the day.

“Great! You get Niko, and I'll get Edwin.”

A short time later, Charles was following Crystal into a thrift store, practically bouncing with excitement. Niko and Edwin were close behind.

Sure enough, the first clothing rack they saw was full of Christmas jumpers. 

“Ooh, what about this one?” said Niko, holding up a particularly garish jumper for Edwin to see.

Edwin frowned, unsure how to respond. “Um… it's…”

“It's mint, Niko!” said Charles. “I think I see some more jumpers over there.”

The next hour was a blur of Christmas jumpers, laughter, and (generally) good-natured teasing as the quartet each picked out a suitable option.

Charles found his jumper almost immediately. He spotted it from across the store, and his eyes lit up. “No way! Brills!” He practically sprinted over to it, leaving Edwin and the girls to follow at a more reasonable pace.

Edwin frowned again as Charles held up the jumper. It was mostly black and green, with some red details here and there. The central image was of a classic-white-sheet sort of ghost, with a red ‘no’ symbol over it. The bottom hem had an alternating pattern of Christmas trees and… some sort of squarish white smiling face wearing a hat. “Why does it say no ghosts?”

Charles sighed dramatically, running a hand over his face. “It’s Ghostbusters, mate. You’ve literally seen the films! This is their logo!”

“Ah, yes, I remember. What has it got to do with Christmas?” To his credit, Edwin seemed to genuinely be trying to make sense of the ugly Christmas jumper tradition.

Charles shrugged. “It was Christmas in the second one. But it doesn’t really matter. It’s in the style of a Christmas jumper. That’s the important bit.”

“If you say so,” Edwin replied, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

Charles handed the jumper to Crystal, who glanced at the tag. “This is a double extra large. Are you sure you want this one? It’s not gonna fit you.”

“It’ll be fine!”

“Okay. You do you, I guess.”

Crystal had started out somewhat skeptical of the whole endeavor, but her mood had brightened considerably when she found a jumper that depicted the Grinch giving two middle fingers. She wordlessly draped the jumper over her arm and continued to peruse the rack, half-listening as Charles explained the Grinch to Edwin. Crystal didn’t have the patience to explain every pop culture reference, but Charles, for his part, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

“Right, so there’s this book, and this guy, the Grinch, absolutely hates Christmas…”

Niko insisted on scouring the entire store before she settled on a jumper. The one she picked featured a large Christmas tree in the center, and was covered in a dizzying array of baubles, garland, pompoms, and candy canes.

“That’s great!” Charles said.

“That’s… something,” Crystal added.

“It’s perfect,” declared Niko, and that was that.

Edwin, to no one’s surprise, ended up having the hardest time finding a jumper that suited him. Early on, he located a knitted blue and white jumper with a pattern of snowflakes across the chest and hem. He held it up hopefully, but Charles shook his head.

“Nah, mate, they’re supposed to be ugly Christmas jumpers.”

“I dunno,” Crystal muttered loudly to Niko, “the grandpa vibes are pretty strong with that one.”

“Given that I am likely older than your grandfather, I am not at all offended by that.”

Crystal ignored him, rummaging around in a pile of jumpers, until she smirked and held one up. “I found the perfect sweater for you, Edwin!”

Edwin turned, and his expression soured as he took in the picture of a fat, grumpy-looking cat, wearing a Santa hat and wrapped in Christmas lights, above the words ‘On The Naughty List’. “Absolutely not.”

As time went on, Crystal grew more and more impatient. “You know what your problem is?” she asked eventually. Edwin opened his mouth, but she continued. “I don’t think you have enough Christmas cheer.”

“I am plenty cheerful,” Edwin replied indignantly.

“Oh yeah?” Crystal grabbed a Santa hat from a display. “Prove it. Wear this.” Without waiting for a response, she reached up and perched the hat on Edwin’s head.

Edwin stiffened like a cat being forced to wear a strange costume.

Crystal snickered. Edwin looked to Charles for help, but Charles merely flashed him a cheeky grin, all crinkled nose and bright teeth. 

Niko looked around to see if anyone was watching them. Luckily, the shop was nearly empty. “Does that just look like a floating Santa hat right now?” she asked quietly.

“Most likely,” Edwin replied, snapping out of it. He quickly pulled the hat off his head and handed it back to Crystal.

Charles and Crystal both offered up several more jumpers, but Edwin rejected all of them. 

Suddenly, Niko’s eyes went wide. “I know!” she said, and without another word, hurried away to a back corner of the shop.

Edwin caught Charles’s eye, but Charles just shrugged.

Niko returned a moment later, holding a jumper that was somewhat similar to the one she had picked out for herself. It was red and had a large tree in the center, but where hers was covered in baubles and garland, this one only had lights.

Edwin kept his expression neutral as he said, “I’m… not sure that –”

“Wait! You have to see the best part!” Niko reached inside the jumper and did - something, and suddenly the lights on the tree began to glow and blink.

Edwin’s expression transformed into one of awe. “How… how does it do that?”

“Batteries! See?” Turning the hem inside out, Niko showed him a small, white box with a button on it, which was cleverly concealed inside the jumper.

“Good job, Niko,” Charles said. He smiled and put one arm around Edwin’s shoulders. “I knew we’d find you one.”

They made their way to the front of the store, where Crystal paid for the jumpers, and then they stepped out into the cold December day.

They waited until they were back in their makeshift office to put on the jumpers. Edwin grabbed his and Charles’s.

“Wait, so any normal clothes can become ghost clothes?” Crystal asked.

“Not exactly. There is a complex magical process that must take place, wherein –”

“Literally no one cares.”

Edwin looked so affronted that Charles actually felt bad for him. He leaned over and whispered, “I care. You can explain it to me later.”

“I have explained it to you before!”

“Yeah, well, this time I’ll listen, won’t I?” Charles replied with a grin.

The “complex magical process” turned out to be the boys just putting the clothes on, though Edwin insisted there was more to it than that.

“If you could just put them on and they vanish, why didn't you do that in the store?” Crystal asked.

“That would be stealing!” Edwin replied. He felt around the hem of his jumper for the mechanism Niko had shown him, and pressed the button. The lights on the Christmas tree blinked to life. Edwin smiled, looking relieved. “I was not sure that was going to work once the jumper ceased to be tangible. It seems it has successfully retained its properties. Though I do wonder about the batteries…” He trailed off as he caught sight of Charles.

The Ghostbusters jumper seemed to swallow most of his lithe frame. It nearly reached his knees, and the sleeves completely covered his hands. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Too-big jumpers are the best,” he was saying, to no one in particular. “It’s like being in a big, warm hug.” He flapped the sleeves for emphasis.

The sight caused a fluttering sensation in Edwin’s stomach. Without thinking, he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Charles’s mouth. He immediately drew back with a gasp, phantom heat rushing to his cheeks in an invisible blush as he realized Crystal and Niko were still right there. Before he could stammer an apology – to Charles? to the girls? – Charles closed the distance between them and looped his arms around Edwin’s neck.

“So, what do you think of ugly Christmas jumpers? Pretty brills tradition, innit?”

“I… am beginning to understand it now.”

Niko tugged on Crystal’s arm, and the two quietly left the room as Charles leaned in to kiss Edwin properly.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

A big thing of importance when attempting to predict or understand a plot point or character in a work of fiction is that you really have to approach it from what the story itself is trying to tell you.

Yeah, yeah, I know, but you really do need your starting point to be "what is the intention of this story? What is it trying to say?" Every story will have thematic elements that are core to its premise, and a lot of things will make sense more if you actively view them through this lens. You can't cast aside the intent of the story before you take the time to understand what the story is trying to do in the first place.

For instance, BSD has a knack for not killing off its characters, despite the violence of the world in which this story takes place. But BSD at its core is about survival and life, and particularly seeking a way to live even if your purpose and meaning and future are uncertain. It was created for people who need stories to live. This is why it wouldn't make a whole lot of sense for them to kill off a bunch of characters, as that would conflict with the kind of story BSD is. I do not expect character death in this series, because unless there are some very specific circumstances (ie. Bram), it just wouldn't fit. Any death just isn't going to hold.

Dead Boy Detectives is extremely obvious in its theming - The good you do comes back around and will allow you to heal in turn. If you continue to be cruel to others, then you will only succeed in perpetuating that cycle, and become the toxic one in turn. This is the core of Crystal, Niko and Esther's story arcs in particular: the character who changes over the story, the character who exemplifies the themes, and the character who acts as the warning.

Themes are the connecting threads that help you understand why choices are made. It also really helps when trying to narrow down to a general idea of where something is going.

For one, the To the Moon/Sigcorp series is about things like memories, regrets, legacies, grief, and final moments before death. Due to this consistent theming, it really didn't come as a surprise to learn the major secret that one of the characters was hiding... or the kind of ending it's leading up to.

As another example, Persona 5 is about a lot of things: rebellion, anger against injustice, the failure of adults to protect the youth, etc., but more than anything I think, P5 is about building a support system after trauma; a support system which is a necessary crutch for people to get their feet back under them and learn how to heal so that they can find themselves and a way forwards again. But a support system doesn't just come to you - you have to trust in people, and let them help you. This is seen in all the characters' arcs, but is taken to extremes with both Futaba and Akechi. Futaba could not start to heal without choosing to allow people to help her. She stagnated in her own guilt and grief due to her isolation, and her decision to open herself up is made literal by a locked door in her heart that could only be opened if she chose to let them in. And, as a result, this running theme is how I knew, even during the worst of the traitor arc, that Akechi was going to end up complicated, yes, but also sympathetic. P5 is not subtle. We are told and shown again and again that this character had no one in his life to rely on, and was cast aside by society. But unfortunately, Akechi rebuffs any attempts to offer him help. As a result, he becomes more and more single-minded, strays further from what he truly seems to believe, and ultimately spirals into self-destruction.

Now we can start asking other questions, like "Was the story successful in what it tried to tell us? Did any of the themes conflict? Were thematically relevant threads left hanging?"

Going back to BSD, this is still a major issue I have with the prison arc. Objectively, the characters were in-character, and the logic holds (for BSD anyways lol). But thematically, it was unsatisfying - the intense setup of this arc made the audience expect much more in the way of story themes than was actually delivered.

This, to me, is where you get into "was the story good" without getting caught in the "well, I didn't like it/agree with it so it was bad".

And then there's where you come into it! Your initial reading of the themes of the story are also going to be shaped by your amount of practice in critical analysis, and also by your personal experiences and interpretations. This is where we get into things like "do I agree with what the story is trying to say" and "oh this was a missed opportunity to add in this little detail" or "objectively it was good, but it didn't really do it for me" or even "objectively it was bad, but something about it still makes me want to chew plaster". It's awesome and part of the joy of being in a community for these things. It's both limiting and lonely to see a story from only one perspective.

[terresdebrume]

Nobody sent me a prompt but I've still got images in my head that want out. Consider this my writerly equivalent to those sketch dump posts artists make about a specific AU without particularly intending to make anything bigger with it x)

"And this door leads to the private quarters. You shouldn't need to use it until Mr. Payne is done building your room, but should you need either of us, he's on the left and I'm on the right."

Curious, Crystal waits for Mr. Rowland to move on to the sparse washroom and hidden bed they keep for clients in need of protection, and opens the private door. It leads to a small-ish antechamber with a low ceiling, no windows, and one door on either side. The one on the left is a solid slate of pale grey wood, the silvered handle carved in the shape of a quill, Mr. Payne's tastes decidedly different from that of the wizards she'd met before. On the right side, Mr. Rowland's door is a pointed arch, made of a much darker, sort of reddish wood. The wood panels surrounding it are carved, intricate geometrical shapes sending shadows playing across the wood.

Behind her, Mr. Rowland clears his throat.

"Sorry," Crystal says, not quite as sorry as her expression makes it look. "I got curious."

"Can't really blame you for that," Mr. Rowland says easily, "Mr. Payne is very skilled with his enchantments."

He must be, Crystal thinks. She's a sorcerer, that much they determined, which means her magic is probably a lot more chaotic than Mr. Payne's, and she probably couldn't replicate what he did to this place. On the flip side though, it means she doesn't need her memories to realize this entire place is absolutely soaked in magic. Screw the innocent little cottage look: every knick knack, every piece of furniture, even the windows and the changing stained glass around their frames: everything make her skin tingle with magic, and the most surprising part is that almost none of it seems to have a practical purpose.

She didn't spend a lot of time with Mr. Payne: as soon as Mr. Rowland brought her in, the wizard took one look at her and went "Really, Mr. Rowland? Weren't you the one who requested a holiday?" And then he listened to Crystal's explanation for about five minutes before he made some noise about needing some proper research material and set off for the Grey Wake academy. That, as far as Crystal is concerned, was enough to establish his type: bookish, serious, blunt to the point of rudeness, and extremely disdainful of anything he seems irrelevant. Not the type, or so she thought, who would enchant a bookshelf so it plays harpsichord notes when you tap it with your fingers, or makes sure the tiny animals in his window panes can move on it like they're a field.

"How long have the two of you been working together?"

"Exactly?" Mr. Rowland asks, looking up at the ceiling as if in question.

He's not a bad looking man. Too old for Crystal, who looks and feels like a teenager, but a good looking adult nonetheless. In his... What, thirties? Forties? She gets the impression it's hard to guess with adventuring types. Too much healing magic, probably. Anyway, the point is, Mr. Rowland is looking up at the ceiling with a pensive expression, dark eyes shining with the hint of a smile, one hand on his hip and the other on the saber that doesn't seem to leave his side, and if he were about half the age he is Crystal would seriously consider making a move on him.

"About twenty years," he says at last. "Depending on how you count."

That is the weirdest way he could have worded it, Crystal thinks. But then again, she supposes after twenty years with the same weird wizard, the man was bound to be a little weird himself.

[many-gay-magpies]

1, 6, and 12 for the niko ask game?

aaaa thank you sm for asking!! this got a bit long so im putting most of it under a read more kjfsljsfdlkj

1. What is a fanfic centered around Niko you enjoy?

I have not read NEARLY enough Niko-centric fic (so if anyone has any recs I will absolutely take them!!), but a really sweet one I HAVE read is Paragon of Radical Acceptance by girlofthorns/@edwin-paynes-bowtie! It's Edwin POV, but focuses on his and Niko's friendship over the course of the show, and how they share stories with each other :> it is super sweet, and a really cute depiction of their friendship <3

6. Favorite dynamic to read about?

Idk if I have a single favorite Niko dynamic, because I love her dynamic with all the other main characters, but one I enjoy especially whenever I see it and want to see MORE OF is her and Charles's dynamic! I just feel like they have the potential for a really cute, fond, and silly friendship, and whenever that friendship is mentioned in fics (often modern AUs) it's just so sweet. The fic I'm in the process of writing and probably won't get done for Niko week is actually exploring their friendship/bonding a bit!

12. How would you bring her back from the dead?

Ohh dude yes I love this question. I have so many ideas, and like- so many fic ideas that may never be realised, one of which is centred around this idea! I read a rly good fic once where bringing Niko back was kind of a background plot, and the boys and Crystal did a whole ritual to open a portal to the astral plane and pull her through, and I liked that a lot!! So I think I'd do something like that, but also. have HER be active in the process too. So, like, maybe her time on the astral plane has given her some weird powers, so SHE's able to track down Crystal or Edwin and Charles's energy signatures or whatever, latch onto them, and use them as an anchor to pull herself back to earth; maybe Crystal tries something to find Niko, and she THINKS it doesn't work, but what it REALLY does is project something of her onto the astral plane that Niko is then able to grab and use to get back to earth, lowkey Ariadne's thread style. And like... I have a whole image in my head, of Crystal at her new school often hiding in this one particular deserted bathroom, and noticing that it's absolutely freezing-- which is because Niko is trying to break through to earth, and that's where she's traced Crystal's signal to the most. I ALSO really like playing with the zombie or undead aspect, rather than Niko being a full ghost, so maybe in this scenario or a separate AU I'd have Niko come back into HER OWN body, have to dig herself out of her own grave in Japan (since the gang sent her body back to her mom), and use her weird astral plane powers to make portals and jump to London that way... IDK I have a lot of thoughts.

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

fic snippet (starting line)

Charles’s eyes cast downward. “Probably can only stay about a half an hour. But that’s more than I ever thought I’d get, so…”

“Count it a miracle,” Mariyam finished.

Charles sat down beside her. “What’re you doing with the house? I like all the little statues. Very regal.”

“Just decorating it more how I like.” She held her chin up stubbornly. “After all, it’s my house now. But if you do get to stay…”

“I can’t,” Charles said. “And… and even if I could…”

“What have you been doing for all these years, beta?”

Charles looked contemplative. “When I died, I made a friend,” he said.

[chuvstvovanje]

A snippet of my current WIP

PAYNELAND FANFIC

There are some things in life which are just painfully obvious. Even when youre Charles Rowland and you're drunk becouse you just left a frat party.

The first of those things is that when your best mate calls you, clearly in distress and in need of you. You come. You say hastly goodbyes to your friends, you fetch your coat and you go into the freezing night. You dont correct your friends when they whistle and yell about chicks and fuckboys becouse it would take too much time and again. Youre drunk.

The second obvious thing, obvious even when the alcohol youve drank warms your chest and blunts your brain, is that you've objectivally kissed a lot more chicks then your best mate.

Charles had to knock on his head a couple of times to remember why exactly that was relevant as he was opening the door to their shared dorm. Something about kissing, Edwin had uttered something on the phone... that Thomas bloke again. (The second and a half thing obvious is that Edwin had royally wasted his time on that wanker but Charles had never been asked what his thoughts were)

So Youre drunk. The last time this happened your best mate was high for the first time in his life, expiriencing a bad trip.

The third obvious thing to do then is: Call Crystal.

Charles did so last time with much annoyance and hesitance. She had answered with enthusiasm, Edwin did what? He's kidding her 'couse thats fucking halaroius, of cousre shes bringing the camera.

Charles had dropped down next to Edwin who had looked scared and Charles had been drunk and Edwin had had green eyes.

And thats number four. Accompanied by five, he has nice skin around the eyes. The way it dips, the shadow it creates. Bushy eyebrows. He had been talking about cats.

"Why were you even doing molly, mate?"

But edwin had just continued with more cat talking and Charles had swungs his arm around him until Crystal was barging into their space.

Heres the final sixth thing thats easy to understand, even if youre tired and your steps are wobbly, your head keeps falling down and your words slur together : this is good. Charles likes it. He had invited Crystal to sleep on the mini sofa he and edwin had bought when theyve been moving in and she gladly did so so.

But that was last time.

Still there should always be six easy steps, theyre the rules of the universe.

So, imagine Charles Rowland's suprise when suddunly the 6 rules became 3.

1. Edwin needs him - he comes

2. Charles objectivally has more expirience with a lot of things then Edwin

3. Edwin wants him.

Charles had always sort of thought the third goes without saying, wanting and needing was all so simmilar. Might as way chuck the two in the big rule number one. Not in any of his wildest dreams would there need to be a clarificatiom between the two.

So here is the clarification in real life happening in real time: Edwin using toungue and bloody well too.

[shadowquill17]

10, 20, 40, and a dealer's choice for the writer's meme? 💙

Hi, I hope you're doing good! Thank you so much for the ask 😘❤️

10) Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

God, I use that word quite a lot when it comes to describing Edwin's reactions, actually, so here's an actually interesting bit:

Hahah. PAIN. 🙌

20) Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Already answered here!

40) If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

That is SUCH a cool question?!! Honestly any fanart inspired by one of my fics is INCREDIBLE and I always love it. @sixbynine-da created this piece based on the second chapter of skirts maketh man, and @many-gay-magpies made this based on your fangs in my neck (like an anchor like a vow), while @saddelicate was also inspired by the vampire vibes and made this gorgeous pic set.

I am still in awe tbh.

If I had to pick another fic dynamic enough to inspire fanart, I think I would go for to the pain? The ending scene of the first chapter is uh, quite angsty, and in the rest of the fic there are several moments that would make a cool picture. ✨

Dealer's choice will be 24) Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

Honestly, any advice that tells you there's only one way to do something is the worst. For me it was about adjectives and how there's apparently such a shortage of them in the world we should ration them, or something. 🙄

Apart from "JUST WRITE", there is literally no advice that will apply to every single writer, whether we're talking about structure, style, or just how to get it done.

Sorry for the delay, but thank you so much for the ask. That was really fun! 🥰

Find the questions here!