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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 7 months ago

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Night at the Opera

A long, code-filled opera is enough to put anyone to sleep.

It's also enough to lower defenses, opening the way for some real conversation...

And unexpected attack.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis

Major character death warning (though I will say this: trust us).

AO3

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Faroe sighed. “I just wish it wasn’t so long. ”

“The very idea of a Crystalsong opera being less than twenty hours would, I fear, offend everyone’s ancestors,” said Hastur mildly, and adjusted her fancy up-do. “After all, I created them. Their entire existence is to weave beauty, music, and tale together for my pleasure… while being my very best spies in the process.”

She wrinkled her adorable, freckled nose. “I guess.”

He understood her annoyance. It wasn’t the kind of code a human brain could comprehend, which was one more thing he had to deal with before his death. “It’s necessary. Their complicated music grants the kind of detailed report I can gather from no other.”

“But it’s so boring. ”

“Shh. Don’t let anyone hear you say that. We have a reputation to maintain.”

She flopped on him with all due drama, and he caught her with a chuckle.

“Why am I going, again?” said Arthur as he arrived, scowling as he walked and John adjusted his robe.

“Because you and John are officially part of my court now,” said Hastur. “You have to be there, at my side.”

He’s hiding something, growled John.

“When isn’t he hiding something?” Arthur muttered. “At least we won’t be alone.”

They wouldn’t. The Dancers had already given Sunny and Parker what the latter was to wear.

They’re not part of your court, John challenged when reminded.

“I hope to change that over time,” said Hastur mildly.

Too mildly.

Nibbles gave him a suspicious look so strong it could curdle milk.

The only one who didn’t seem to doubt his reasoning was Faroe. “Okaaaay,” she said, overly miserably, flopping again.

Hastur carried her. (He hadn’t carried her this much in a few years now, and almost seemed to be making up for lost time.)

Arthur sighed. “They should be here soon.”

They were Parker and Sunny.

Parker had never, in his life, worn anything this fancy, this complicated, this heavy, this awkward, and he absolutely hated it. Which was a shame, because he looked fantastic.

The color was Hastur’s gold, threaded with deep green threads that somehow lent his skin a warm, bronze timbre while still linking him to the King.

Parker wasn’t sure he wanted to be linked to the King. The good news, he told himself, was this color wasn’t only Hastur’s.

Turn for me again, please? Sunny said for the fifth time. Oh, Parker. You look absolutely stunning. If I wasn’t already smitten, I would fall for you on the spot.

See, that helped. That helped a lot. “You like it, huh?” he said, grinning.

I like you in most things, and sometimes nothing at all, said Sunny, a touch too distracted to be subtle or seductive. But I very much like you in gold. And this particular one… I wonder if we have enough time for jewelry. I think some emeralds set in a similar gold, on a short chain for your neck…

That was a whole thing. Parker shook his head a little. “This is my year for a lot of new stuff. You know what? Yeah. I’ll put on whatever you want. Go crazy. I’m all yours.”

Oh! Arthur, he’s…

“What?”

Sunny’s voice nearly boomed. Doesn’t he look incredible?

John was silent for long enough to give the impression of an enormous, petulant breath. Arthur! Let me dress you like that! Arthur!

Arthur cleared his throat. “Sorry, everyone. He’s in a mood today.”

But he looks incredible, John whined.

“You do look great,” said Faroe, smiling shyly. “We almost match!” She spun, flaring her yellow-green gown.

Parker laughed. “Like I’m dolled up for something fancy. I never got to do this before. It’s fun.”

“Come on, John,” Arthur coaxed. “I don’t even know what he’s wearing.”

John huffed. Parker is wearing gold ; unlike your robe, his lacks the Yellow Sign, and features what appear to be dark greens woven throughout. Around his neck is an elaborate neckpiece, twisted into fine scrollwork with deep green emeralds set into it and smaller emeralds dangling from the ends. Around his wrists are golden cuffs with more emeralds; a few thin gold chains wrap around his throat, lying under and entwining with the large necklace.

Arthur blinked. “Like a fancy prisoner?”

I would never make him look like a prisoner, Sunny huffed. You have no taste, Arthur.

“I can’t fucking see him,” said Arthur dryly.

You didn’t have taste when you could see, either, Sunny quipped, because you somehow said no to this.

Arthur laughed. “All right, fair,” he said, slightly red as Faroe leaned into him.

“Good one,” Parker approved.

A sweep of Dancers flitted in, their pointed limbs clicking gracefully on the floor. Behind them floated the King in Yellow. Servitors followed—empty suits of armor, large furry beasts bearing palanquins, ghostly birds sparking with silent, para-dimensional lightning.

Faroe’s curls tried to escape her up-do, frizzing.

“My own,” said Hastur. “My daughter. My honored family. It is time.” He took Faroe and rose, carrying her to the palanquin of the tallest beast.

Forward, said John.

“What did he call us?” Parker murmured quietly. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t catch it,” said Arthur, climbing up with John’s help. Parker frowned but followed, thoughtful, and together, they were off to the opera.

The Crystalsong were not incredible mobile beings; they moved slowly, their many legs tinkling as they crept around the stage, voices like chimes as they chanted, back and forth. Their music, however, was divine. The opera was incredible, the music gorgeous, the plot complex and layered and overarching—and it had also been going on for over fifteen hours.

Hastur did his best to keep his little group awake and functioning. They had a special, private box, where no one would enter. He’d provided board games and card games; books; food and drink; a small water closet for their needs; and several padded settees for them to use as needed.

Faroe fell asleep on him toward hour sixteen. Well. It was after her bedtime.

Still. He thought back to catching her out late with Dis. He’d never pursued that; she wasn’t still doing that, was she?

Arthur was no better, and conked out half an hour later.

Hastur sighed. At least Parker and Sunny seemed to be still enjoying themselves. “Ahem,” Hastur said.

“Mm?” Said Parker, eyes locked on the stage far below.

“They have written a part for me.”

Parker blinked up at him. “Uh. Good for you?”

Hastur rumbled. “I will have to leave shortly. You will all be safe here.”

Parker didn’t seem to understand the danger. Or, perhaps, was not easily scared. “All right. Do we gotta be awake?”

“No.”

“Cool.” Parker took a handful of honey-glazed nuts and leaned back in his chair.

Hastur studied him. Cradled his daughter. Studied Arthur. They were all so tired. He didn’t want them to be tired. It wasn’t fair they’d be tired when he was working so hard for them.

Well. Maybe he’d have time to deal with it later.

Sure.

An hour later, Parker finally fell asleep, too, sacked out on the deep red settee. Hastur added an extra, gentle spell to keep his family asleep, took some time to arrange them all together because it was funny (and also very cute), then headed down toward backstage.

Arthur lay curled against Parker's side, head on his shoulder, snoring softly; Faroe was tucked into his side in turn, curled up and completely out of it. Parker's chin rested on his chest as he slept, the backdrop of the impressive (if low and chantlike) choral work helping to keep them all lulled.

John and Sunny were, of course, not asleep, and John watched the performance in the mirror above them, which had been angled to catch the stage. Arthur will let me do that someday, said John out of nowhere. Dress him up, I mean. Make him shiny.

He’s a stubborn one, but I’m sure you can warm him up to the idea, Sunny said gently. I like the gold he’s wearing there. I know it was Hastur’s choice, but it looks nice with you as well.

John sounded proud. It’s not just his color. Your Parker cleaned up well, too. Not that he doesn’t pull off the vagabond look.

Sunny huffed. He looks good in most things. I’m mostly just glad he lets me pick things out for him. Being able to do the jewelry was a pleasant surprise. He laughed, low and gentle. …Hastur will be gone for at least an hour or two, I imagine. I wonder if we’ll see him down there? He paused. If you’ll see him, I guess. I don’t have control over the eyes at all.

John considered that. I feel like there’s… a way around that, but I don’t know what it is. He sounded sad.

It’s probably just something else locked up in that mind of yours. You’ll recover it in time, I’m sure of it, Sunny rumbled, low, without the presence that Hastur’s had, but hopefully reassuring anyway. I… I had a question about something in that vein, if you’d be willing to talk to me about it.

John turned his attention from the opera. What?

It’s about… Well. It’s about you and Arthur, Sunny said quietly, and it might deal with things you can’t quite remember. But what’s important is what you know, Rex. Does that make sense?

The string section began a dramatic, tense pizzicato, plucked and rhythmic.

Okay, said John. I’m listening.

Sunny took a trembling breath. They’re all really asleep, right?

Oh, yeah, said John. Hastur made sure they’d stay asleep. They’d go wandering or picking fights or something otherwise, and we both know it.

…I hadn’t considered that, Sunny said, low. That’s why this is… I’m stalling. Alright. He took another breath. I… I assume you remember, or you were told, how I was first introduced to Arthur.

The barest pause. They both knew this was mine-filled territory. Yes.

When… When I was with Arthur, he was in a bad state. He spoke briefly about the ways the two of you had suffered, of your determination to not be separated from him, Sunny said softly. Timidly. You were tortured.

John was quiet. Yes.

I’m sorry, Sunny said quickly—too quickly. I shouldn’t have brought this up. We don’t have to talk about this.

No, said John, remembering the meaning of Rex. It’s fine. Say what you need to say.

I… If you’re… sure, Sunny said, halting, that insubstantial breath still much too quick. The important thing was that you were determined to stay with him, no matter the cost. And I… I wondered if that… If that was still the case.

The singers hit a high, strident note like hammers on bells.

Yes! John shouted over them. More than ever!

Sunny let out a soft laugh. I thought so, he said, gentle. Would you stay, even if you could be separated? To have your own body?

John went silent for a moment. The music settled in, strings wordlessly singing. Would getting a body mean losing him? he said, quietly enough to almost be inaudible.

That’s not what I mean, Sunny said. Or… Not exactly. I don’t know. But you’re sure that staying with him is right?

Yes. I don’t think I can ever leave his body, anyway, but I don’t care anymore. Body or not, this man is mine.

You’re very strong. You might be able to, Sunny said quietly.

I don’t care. It’s not the part that matters. The moment I woke…. John paused. The moment I woke, with nothing else I understood, I knew he was mine. Familiar even when nothing else was. That’s the point.

Down below, Hastur’s voice suddenly plummeted, deep and bass and wondrous, underpinning the entire chorus. Gasps briefly shimmered over the audience.

How did you know that was the right decision? said Sunny.

John’s hand twitched. I don’t understand the question. How would I not know?

You… Sunny sighed, and a muscle in Parker’s jaw twitched. Before, you had… Other options, but you stuck through it with him regardless. You suffered to keep him safe, even at your own expense. How did you know that all of that would be worth it? How did you know you were making the right decision?

John took this seriously. The chorus rose and quieted again, oohing as Hastur’s solo climbed (the god had quite the range). How do you know what tastes good?

I don’t follow.

You just taste it, right? You don’t have to look at the stars or count tea leaves. You know what’s good because you taste it. Right?

Sunny huffed. Sure. I taste it, and if I like it, it tastes good.

Do you like him? Does he feel good?

The music dipped low. A whisper of percussion and low strings.

Yes, Sunny said quietly. He feels… He feels like the sun emerging from the clouds on a cold day. Like hot tea after you’ve wept. He feels safe.

John’s diaphanous form shifted. So it is right.

But it’s not that simple, said Sunny. I am not… I am supposed to go back. I was always supposed to go back. It’s all I was ever supposed to do, my only purpose. I spent almost nine years in misery because I was separate, and returning was right, but now… Now I’m confused. And I’m scared, because if I… If I stay, he’ll… He took a breath. I can’t keep him safe.

John’s hand relaxed. What does missing a train have to do with invalidating whether you like something?

Sunny fell silent.

Rex, John thought, refusing to let this go. And if you stay, he’ll what?

He’ll die.

He’d do that anyway.

Faroe turned and snuggled her dad, face on Arthur’s chest.

John went quiet as if not to wake them.

The R’lyehian came easily. [I don’t want him to die,] Sunny whispered. [I… I’m scared. If I stay, we may not be safe. We might have to run, or fight. And I can’t… I will never be able to hold him. I couldn’t even protect myself from Larson, how can I help protect him?]

John was quiet for a moment. [I understand. So many times, I… had to watch him be hurt. And I have a hand and a foot.] He considered. [Humans get hurt when they’re together, too. It’s just… being mortal. Nobody can protect somebody from everything.]

[But forsaking true godhood, a return to my fuller self… If I returned I could protect him, even though he would hate me.] Sunny let out a shuddering breath. [...I know my limitations, Rex. It’s been ten years, and I… I am still like this. The only way I have grown in power was through Larson’s rituals, and those came at a cost I am no longer willing to pay. I… I may never be more than… This.]

[Okay. Does he care?]

Sunny let out a long-suffering sigh that told John exactly what the answer was.

John exhaled, too, thinking. This would be easier, he was sure, if he had his memories. How would Arthur answer this? That helped, actually. Trying to think how Arthur would answer this. [Things don’t always go as planned. Right?]

[Story of my life, but yes. You’re correct.]

[So. When things don’t, what do you two decide to do?]

[We survive. We prioritize our safety, getting out, getting help, and we move forward,] Sunny said, his voice taking on a deeply serious tone. [And… And when we’re out, we talk about it. Sometimes Parker… Has to wait, for a bit, but we talk. He’s very easy to talk to. Very good at helping me untangle my thoughts.]

[Good. Everybody should have someone like that.] John briefly wondered if that was a thing he could enforce later, somehow, when he ruled. [So it’s okay to have good things even though plans don’t always work out.]

[I don’t think I’m making sense,] Sunny sighed.

[He’s mortal. You’re afraid he’ll be hurt, and you’re not a strong enough god to save him. So you’re wondering if it’s right for you to even be in his life the way you are. Right?]

[I—yes. Yes, that’s exactly it.] John got the distinct impression of Sunny blinking at him with… awe? Adoration? Gratitude, certainly. [I feel like a burden, and I… I don’t want to be. He’s told me otherwise, yes, but I just… I’m so aware of everything I can’t do, especially when it’s at odds with what I want to do.]

[So…] It hit John suddenly. Sunny was rex, too, whether or not he realized it, and that changed this whole situation. [What does he need? ]

[I don’t know.]

[That’s your problem, right there.] John was sure, even if he didn’t fully understand Sunny’s hesitation. [If you don’t know what he needs, you can’t ever fulfill it. Find that out first. Then we can work toward getting him whatever that is.]

[He says that all he needs is me,] Sunny said, quietly. [But that can’t be right.]

[Why?] John sounded genuinely curious.

Onstage, the music changed again. Hastur’s voice was hidden in the chorus again, but he floated across the stage, outstretched, stunning.

No one in the booth noticed.

[Because…] Sunny said, slowly, testing. [Because I am… me.]

[You know Arthur. A little. Right?]

[I’m getting to know him better. He’s… different, than when I first met him. Good different.]

[This “different” part was always there, along with the mess he was when I came back. Sunny, he… I don’t remember all the details, but I know he was so fucked when I came back that he thought it was over and he’d lost completely. He’s got levels. Everybody does. Good and bad. Even your guy does. You know?]

[Yes. Things are rarely as simple as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. We know this.]

[So… why don’t you have the freedom to have levels, too?]

Sunny stayed silent. The music swelled, Hastur’s voice bringing it up like he cradled it all in his hand.

The sound nearly buried Sunny’s voice, so small. [Because I think I may be mostly bad, and… I don’t want to be.]

John pondered this one. [Bad according to what? We are what we are. We are gods. Both of us. Small pieces, yes, but that’s what we are. If the people we own are happy and healthy, then how can we be bad?]

[I’m not growing, Rex. I don’t know that I can change.]

[Sure you are. You’re learning. You’re not the same as you were with Larson. I know. Arthur told me how you vowed to destroy him. You’re not the same person. So, you grew.]

Below, the movement climaxed. Applause rose. Hastur bowed, and began the next movement.

[So… You don’t think I should rejoin him, then.]

John’s golden mist shuddered, all around Arthur’s sleeping form. [No. I don’t. That asshole’s fine. You’ve got people who love you. Why the fuck would you just leave them behind?]

[Because if I did, no one could hurt me ever again.]

That one took a moment to process.

Sunny let out a shaky breath. [I know. It’s selfish, and awful.]

If John had the right to choose, so did Sunny. Hm. More applause. The opera had finally turned the corner, reaching toward a happier ending than expected. [I guess it comes down to what matters more. Are you happy when you’re with him?]

[I am.] There was something distinctly teary about his voice. [I’d never been happy before I met him.]

[Is he worth the risk?] It wasn’t a challenging question. John was genuinely asking, and it showed.

[I’d risk much more if it meant he would be safe.]

[He wouldn’t be without you. You leaving him doesn't guarantee him suddenly being safe. Just alone. If you fucking died in a fire, Larson would still go after him. He wants him, or something. It’s weird. It wouldn’t stop just because you’re gone. So what would be the point of leaving him, then?]

The orchestra suddenly went heavy brass, dramatic.

[You’ve noticed it too, huh?] Sunny’s voice was quiet. Fearful.

[Yeah. I don’t think that guy knows what the fuck’s going on. Arthur told me some people can be in denial.] And John laughed. [And he’s in denial about being in denial! Humans. I fucking swear.]

[Parker believes he has it handled. He’s keeping an eye on it, though… I don’t think he understands how badly Larson is fixated on him. He… He doesn’t know him like I do.]

[So he needs you.]

[I’d argue that without me, he wouldn’t have that problem in the first place, but…]

[If you go away, will Larson?]

Sunny sighed heavily. [No. He will not.]

[Then he needs you. And because you’re not a mortal human, even if you are weakened, you can help him better than anyone else. You understand the situation. You understand the threat. You also understand his strengths and weaknesses, and Larson’s. He needs you. ]

Below, the opera seemed to finally be coming to an end. Applause rose like a flood, enveloping.

[I don’t know how to feel about that,] Sunny said softly.

[Do you have to know?] John raised his voice a little to get over the volume of praise. [You think I understand how to feel about all this? What matters is what I have, and what I chose. I learned that from Arthur. He’s right.]

[I… I haven’t had very many choices, Rex. Maybe that’s why this is so hard for me.] Sunny let out a laugh. [I… I’m lucky to have you to ask, then. Thank you.]

John couldn’t, technically, preen. He found a way. [We… we are… we’re on this path together. Both of us. Forgotten Ones who… aren’t forgotten, anymore. Not with the people we found. So. This is a choice. Maybe a really important one. He needs you, so don’t leave him. Besides, if you do, Arthur might do something stupid, too. He gets… ideas.]

Sunny really laughed, then, bassy and profound. [That… that he does.] He went quiet. [I wish I could hug you. The instincts to use our tentacles are still there, and I just… Thank you.]

The golden mist that was John undulated, but did not leave Arthur’s immediate vicinity. [Maybe someday. I don’t particularly want our humans touching in our place.]

The spell keeping said humans asleep must have been lifted. Faroe raised her head, blinking blearily. Her updo had stayed relatively unscathed, though her gown was completely wrinkled. She kissed Arthur’s cheek and clambered off the sofa.

Arthur grunted.

Parker snored a little.

Arthur seemed to realize they were laid out like parts of a sandwich and stiffened. “Uh.”

Sorry, Arthur, Sunny said, a bit sheepishly. The King needed to perform, and tucked us all together. Did you rest well?

Arthur sat up. Patted over Parker as though trying to figure out what was going on. “Yeah, actually.”

“Uh?” said Parker, blinking blearily at him. “You. What?”

“I think Hastur piled us up like firewood,” said Arthur dryly.

Parker’s look was amazing. “Why?” he said.

“I have no fucking idea.” Arthur stretched.

“We were warm and cuddly,” said Faroe with youthful wisdom.

Hastur reappeared, having no need to bother with petty things like doors. “Well,” he said. “Did we all survive?”

Faroe yawned, and—evidently sleepy enough not to care how old and mature she was—raised her arms.

He picked her up immediately.

“Yeah,” said Arthur. “I’m sorry we slept. Fuck.”

“Nnh,” said Parker. “I think I like operas. Bet the couches aren’t normally this comfy, though.”

Arthur laughed.

Sunny rumbled. The three of you seemed peaceful. We decided not to wake you.

“Well done, all,” said Hastur, and—for reasons unexplained—picked up everyone else.

“Hey!” said Parker, pushing pointlessly.

“Hush,” said Hastur. “Our enemies are about. We will return home at once.”

“You sounded great, dad,” Faroe mumbled, half-asleep.

“As if you even heard it,” he said warmly, fondly, brushing her cheek, and opened a portal. “We have all done well. I have gathered the information I need, and decoded it.”

“Good for you,” said Arthur with that particular grouchiness that came when he was oversleepy.

“Home,” said Hastur, clearly relieved nothing bad had happened, and stepped through the portal to the protections of Carcosa.

Those protections on Carcosa—and the palace in particular—were good. Really good. Ghoaca was just about done trying to get through them.

“Your Highness,” said one of his guys.

Ghoaca snarled at him to make him shut up.

It was a stupid assignment anyway. Find a way into his court and use this knife may seem specific, but it most definitely was not. Hastur had locked this place down, and while Ghoaca had seen the target from some distance, he had yet to actually get into the court proper.

He was only a second son. Unimportant; he couldn’t get an invitation to actual court, just the hallways to watch the people who mattered march in and out again.

Fuck. There had to be a way. This would, he was sure, catapult him beyond his older brother for favor; why else would he have been given such an important assignment? It wasn’t like his father would just throw him away—

“You look frustrated, friend,” said a cheerful voice, and Ghoaca turned to find a man facing them, a man his people hadn’t warned him about. Just a human man, smiling, eyes shadowed, fiddling with a small, pink tube.

Was this guy going to sound the alarm? Ghoaca bore his teeth, lashing his crocodile tail. “What’s it to you, meatling?”

The man held up both hands, still smiling. “Hey, now, not your enemy! Seems to me you want a way inside. Am I reading that wrong? Am I mistaken? Is your actual goal something other than the one you’re telling yourself with increasing desperation?”

Ghoaca stared at him.

“Right, that went over your head. So! You want in, right? I happen to hate the guy who owns this place, so tell you what. I’ll let you in! For free!” And somehow, impossibly, that smile grew. He tossed the pink tube up and caught it again. Whatever it was, to Ghoaca’s sensitive snout, it smelled like human hair. Was that some kind of accoutrement?

“How dare you speak so casually to—” said Ghoaca.

“Yes, yes, Prince Ghoaca of Thesia, Duke of the Limestone Gorge, blah blah I don’t care. You want in or not, sweetums?”

He could always kill this guy on his way in. “You have such a way?”

“Yep! Not just wagging my jaw! Oh, and in the unlikely circumstance that you’re caught alive, you can tell them… the hammer fell. Now they don’t have to worry about it anymore! Isn’t that grand?”

Ghoaca stared at him. “What?”

The man sighed. “I swear. Arthur spoils me for dealing with other people.” And he just… tore the air. Ripped it, opened it like a thin sheet.

Hastur’s throne room, currently empty, lay beyond, wreathed in shadow and glinting with hints of gold.

Ghoaca sometimes felt like he didn't quite understand what was happening around him (and was sure no one else did, either and just lied about it). Well, he understood this. “Hastur’s throne room?”

“Have fun!” said the human, and stepped aside.

Ghoaca was not inclined to look a gift horse in the mouth. “You’re lucky I’ve chosen to spare you,” he said, and gestured to his soldiers. Together, they stepped through.

Laughter followed him, damn near hysterical, but before he could turn around and hurt the guy for daring to do that at him, the portal closed again.

He had just enough time to hide his soldiers in shadow as another portal spat out the god and his… “family.”

Ghoaca was fast, and strong, and had always been silent. He knew he had moments before the god noticed him, and that only the distraction of these other people had kept them all from detection. He gripped his blade. There was no more time to waste.

His father would be so proud.

Hastur stepped into the throne room, relieved, and put his people down. They’d made it, and everyone was all right.

Faroe yawned. “Did you learn important things?”

“Yes,” Hastur said. “We still need to find a way for you to gather their information as well.” A twenty-hour constant code-breaking marathon wasn’t really possible for her, no matter how brilliant she was. Human minds didn’t work like that.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, because in her understanding, they had time, they had all the time, they had so much time that there seemed to be no end.

They had five years, and if he didn’t figure out how to help her decode his most valuable spy network’s reports, she’d be ruling Carcosa half-blind. “Of course, my darling. We should all get ready for bed.”

“Already fucking slept,” muttered Parker.

“It was not true rest,” said Hastur. “You will find yourselves in need of actual sleep.”

Arthur yawned. “Fine.”

You were gathering information? Demanded John. Why didn’t we know?

“All in good time,” said Hastur.

John’s hand flipped him off.

Hastur chuckled, low. “Yes, yes.” He folded Faroe’s tiny hand in his enormous one.

Arthur yawned, stretching. “What’s the schedule tomorrow?”

“Court will be late,” said Hastur, turning, facing Faroe, who beamed up at him. “I’m sure Nibbles missed you dreadfully.”

“Maybe she tore up more art,” said Faroe slyly.

“Naughty creature,” purred Hastur, rumbling. “I highly suspect she will—”

Three beats, so fast.

One: a dozen warriors suddenly leaped from the darkness around the edges of the room, wielding weapons and spells.

Two: Hastur—all the way at the other end of the throne room, for all it mattered—popped Faroe into a protective bubble, then turned and flew into the thick of them, roaring, smashing them like bowling pins made of underbaked cake. Their magic splashed against him uselessly—strong, deadly, but nothing to a god.

Three: Summoned by tripped alarms, Dis appeared in an explosion of purple sparks. With a barbaric yell, she charged the cluster. Golden warriors ran in her wake, attacking the intruders.

Arthur gasped, evidently tried to run in the opposite direction John did, and fell. He scrambled away on the floor, gasping.

Arthur had no way of knowing he’d gone the way he’d been herded.

And there, away from the soldiers, too far from the god, too far from help, he did not see the tall, reptilian figure lunging at him from behind a pillar, bringing down a black, flamberge dagger as if to remove Arthur’s head.

Parker and Sunny were quicker.

Ephaiaglor! Sunny bellowed, casting for speed, and Parker slammed into the attacker, tackling a being with nearly a foot and a half of height on him, with a tail wider than Parker’s whole body, and teeth Parker barely prevented from snapping right on his face.

“Parker!” Arthur shouted, hearing the impact.

Parker was human, but he was not alone. For one moment, they wrestled, feet sliding, fighting for the dagger. Ch'nglui'ahog! Sunny cast, and the lizard-man’s limbs simply broke.

Ghoaca howled. The dagger fell from his ruined claws, and nicked Parker on the way down.

It was nothing. A scratch. Less than a shaving mistake, nothing that should be serious, nothing should be fatal, or cause him to fall, but it did, and Parker just dropped, limp, eyes suddenly flat and and empty and—

Parker! John cried.

Arthur heard the body fall and go limp. He reached, grabbed.

Parker did not respond. He was utterly limp, no longer breathing.

“Parker?” Arthur said, voice higher and more broken on every succeeding try. “Parker! Parker!”

Three beats, so fast.

One: Dis was there, suddenly there, leaping over Parker’s body to grab nothing in the air with purple sparks and streams of power sizzling all around her, and she came down like a meteor, cracking the floor of the throne room, and slammed both fists onto Parker’s limp body as if to shock him back to life.

Two: Parker gasped, an ugly, pained sound. Alive.

Three: You! John snarled, bellowed, roared at the lizard-man who moaned on the ground with arms and legs broken, and then…

John wasn’t sure what he did. Something. Something, like extending Arthur’s arm (except it wasn’t Arthur’s arm because Arthur’s arm could not do this) and—

“Fuck,” Parker said, shaky, unable to sit up, but he could see just fine. See the golden cloud crushing the lizard-guy, squishing the assassin so his eyes bulged out, so blood popped and squirted from every pore.

“Take them to the prison pits!” Hastur commanded, and his soldiers dragged the whimpering survivors away.

It had taken seconds and left them all shaken to the core.

A moment of panting, of gasping, as everyone tried to parse where they were, what had happened. Faroe banged her fists on the inside of her bubble, unheard, but clearly demanding freedom.

And now, at last, Sunny made one small, tiny, terrible sound: I’m sorry.

“Sunny?” Parker whispered. “Sunny! Sunny!”

There was no reply.

----------

Notes:

Thanks to @flamiart for hersacrificial asshole character, the erstwhile prince of Thesia!

#malevolent #major character death #malevolent fic #malevolent au #surrogate series #surrogate fic #surrogate malevolent

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bozoswozo · 9 months ago

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~I present to you…My favourite characters from my favourite animes :P~

because I am bored 😬

Gon Freecs

he’s such a ray of sunshine,

he’s always been my all time favourite character in HxH.

I love his energy and positive attitude.

He’s so :3 and he makes me happy.

He’s so ambitious

His physical appearance is also so cute

He just gives hope idk

I don’t know why I love him so much he’s just Gon

But Gon is always loved by everyone so…

L. Lawliet

he’s so smart and that makes me :3

He’s so cute

and hot, sue me

I love his sarcastic humour

he’s so :] and Iove it

he’s such a silly billy

He’s so overdramatic

drama queen

“I hear the bells” alright gang ‼️💪🏻

But I still love him so much

Killua Zoldyck

I never really cared about him

I rewatched HxH and got attached

his admiration towards Gon is adorable

so is his love for him

but his life is so sad

Like yes ur worthy of friends bro 😭

He’s so cool too, amazing style

saddest character in the anime frl

BUT HES SO COOL! HIS NEN HIS HAIR EVERYTHING

nonchalent king

Mob/ Kageyama

Come on he’s everything that is considered a green flag

He’s so cutie patootie

but he’s also pretty angsty😬

I love that he goes through stuff people can actually relate to

he’s so innocent

another ray of sunshine

I love his shy side

Everyone who encounters him ends up changing for the better

#shigeokageyamaforpresident

he’s just mob, no need to explain further

Mello

Hottest character in Death Note FIGHT ME

HES SO HOT

HIS STYLE OMG

HIS SCAR !!!

HIS HAIR

Bro everything about him is amazing

Iive laugh love Mello

I NEED THAT MAN

He can kidnap me in his truck

Bro even the shinigami admitted he was scary

ISNT THAT SO COOL

and the fact that he’s emotional makes it even better

Best Death Note character???? (can’t decide)

Near

I used to dislike him

But I’ve matured now and I LOVE HIM

one of the best characters

it truly plays between him L and Mello

he’s so cute and goofy

Sometimes I forget he’s an adult :/

But he just seems fun to be around

yeah I said fun

He’d probably shrug every now and then

idk

he made me proud bro, made me feel like a mother watching her son

AGAIN, HE’S AN ADULT😭I TEND TO FORGET THAT

And I’m a minor

ANYWAY HE’S SO COOL

Ray

bro everything about him is so sad

Blud needs intensive therapy 🔥🔥

But he’s just so…cool

Like I love characters like that

I either love joyful and sunshine characters or I love little angsty guys

He’s so cute too

I chose a pic from the anime (though the manga is 100x better) bc he looks a bit too much like a mischievous elf in the manga💀

He’s a smarty pants

I love sarcastic characters

He’s just so yeah bro

he loves his siblings so much

And I love him so much

Kinda spooked me out tho in the traitor scene and in the fire scene

like ok emo boy get it i guess!

He’s nonetheless an amazing character

100% would recommend

That’s it :P.

Warning: I know a lot of the characters are minors but keep in mind that I AM TOO! And I’m near their age, to not say it specifically…Plus all of the minors, I like NOT bc of any attraction shit but just bc they’re cool and hilly billys.

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demonskiss · 1 year ago

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Darling who loves to annoy and tease them. I wish for the must insufferable darling

annoyance!

cw: violence (to reader), implied blowjob, restraints, stalking, noncon touching

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

emory who cannot stand you whatsoever, who’s unable to control their piling rage when you interact with them. don’t you know your life is in their hands? they could maim you and you would carry on with those nauseating words. their last straw is when you interrupt them in the middle of their livestream, knocking you out with a metal pipe and carrying on with their content, playing your appearance off as an escaped patient. when you wake up later on, you’re strapped down to a bloody metal table, with a furious emory hovering above you. they don’t say much, except they start unzipping their blood stained dress pants, and snarls. “your loud mouth has caused enough trouble for me, i have a better use for that mouth of yours.”

blythe who genuinely doesn’t care! in fact, it may fuel his obsession even more, you love him so much to where you have him in his thoughts all the time? just to get under his skin? they’re so insanely flattered, twirling their hair and kicking their feet every time your smug expression appears on your face. oh, you’ve think you’ve won? you’re just so cute! they can’t get enough of you, you’re simply just a delight! his friends may be insanely sick of you and discourage them from hanging out with you further, but why would they do that? you’re just so adorable after all! <3

violetta who makes sure that you don’t get too out of hand! she doesn’t mind teasing comments made about her, you’re her dearest friend after all! but if you start tampering with her artwork, things will get ugly for you. in all, violetta tails you around like a lost puppy, and if you think you can take her spot as an annoyance you’re severely incorrect! she’ll unintentionally one-ups you, following you to class when she’s supposed to be in her own, sitting on the other side of the room just to sketch you in her notebook. she’ll follow you outside of school as well to take pictures of you when you’re not looking, you’re not safe. you’ll never be safe from her gaze. she’s much worse than you’re led to believe.

ambrose has all the time in the world for your silly comments about him! he’s accepted his death a long time ago, using it for his own benefit, so comments about his ghostly form won’t work, because he’ll simply laugh it off. everything is new to him when it comes to you, and he too will take it as reciprocated feelings. you love him to where you’re comfortable with making jokes around him? oh, this delusional ghost is head over heels for you, taking advantage of the entire situation. your shower? interrupted by him running his hands down your body, you’ll never get a warm shower again. reading a book? he’ll paw at your thighs, desperate to have you all to himself. you’ll never be alone again, even if your words scathe him sometimes.

shoutout to my homie mike for giving me inspiration for emory’s section! by that i mean i will dedicate an entire side character to you one of these days, you can finally become canon. this goes out to all the insufferable fucks out there muah muah <3

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clearcloudlesssky · 1 year ago

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*sips tea* WHY, HELLO THERE

I am here to inquire about your writing! (I just want to give you an excuse to make a tumblr post about it because you're an amazing writer)

Who's your favorite oc and why?

What two characters do you think have the most interesting dynamic together out of the ones youve written?

What tropes do you use the most?

Do you have any ocs you think youd get along with irl? Any you think you'd hate irl?

ALSO...CAN I MARRY ORPHEUS??? (and eule i love them both)

WHY, HELLO TO YOU AS WELL

thank you for inquiring about my writing!! it means a lot seriously

i am so so sorry i didn’t answer this sooner i literally did not know that there was a inbox until today sobs

well anyhoo questions

1) who’s your favorite oc and why?

my favorite oc at the moment is levine. mostly cause depressed doctor with a missing inventor childhood friend, who disappeared after a morally wrong experiment, but then the subject of that experiment appears at his doorstep and what tf is he supposed to do now.

plus i just like his personality (me saying he’s quiet and hates interacting with people just like me frfr)

ok but on the legitimate side of things

levine tends to portray himself as a misanthrope who dislikes spending time with others, but in reality he uses it as a mask to cover up the fact that he doesn’t actually hate people, rather he ends up caring too much, so he just withdraws.

he pretends to be the first option, but ultimately he’s a bleeding heart disguised as a cynic. yes, he’s bitter and somewhat jaded by certain events, but that doesn’t stop him from feeding the scrawny cat on the side of the road or taking in a child? automaton? person? that was left to him.

plus his relationship with childhood friend aka local crazy woman camille who is his exact opposite is fun to write

2) what two characters do you think have the most interesting dynamic together out of the ones you’ve written?

hmmm out of the characters that i’ve written so far the relationship between yuna and neva is probably the most interesting to me, seconded by marion and cinna.

in yuna/neva’s case it’s the mixture of childhood-friends-turned-reluctant-enemies-but-not-really, and the thing about their vibe that i like is that they just keep making each other worse. they love each other, they adore each other, but they also hate and despise each other, and whenever one falls it’s inevitable that the other follows.

yuna is usually the one to take the first downward plunge, without any hesitation, and she always looks back at neva like “are you coming?” —and neva always looks at her, and something inside her whispers that this is wrong, she shouldn’t be doing this, but another part says yes this feels good, and enjoys the thrill, and it’s that side that wins over like all of the time.

because when it comes down to it yuna just does what she wants in the moment, without much regard for the future or the people around her. maybe a different person could reel her in, or clean up her messes, or tell her hey this is wrong, but that person will never be neva. neva is kinda apathetic to both life and people, she’s just plodding through life. yes, she has a better moral compass than yuna, but she’s not pressed enough to follow through on that bit of conscience within her and stop what they’re doing, so everything usually just spirals and spirals until it explodes.

that was basically them in their teenage years, and when the story starts as reuniting adults, the pattern just. happens again but on a larger scale. i told you they’re my toxic lesbians and i love themmmm

3) what tropes do you use the most?

erm i would say that i use “childhood friends” AKA “knew each other in youth” wayyyy too frequently. also a sucker for the parental figure and traumatized child relationship

4) do you have any ocs you think you’d get along with irl? any you think you’d hate?

i think that i’d get along with eurydice (wow i should probably rename her) mostly because she’s a chill lady, runs a tea shop. i’d like to get a drink from her and just relax. i also think i’d get along with doll but let’s be real, doll gets along with like 99% of the people they meet. they are my sunshine porcelain automaton child. (i coparent with levine.)

erm i would probably dislike hanging around yuna, enough said about that. i kinda want to say marion but i wrote him to be fairly charismatic and i don’t think that i would be immune haha

5) can i you marry orpheus (also eule)

STOP MARRYING PEOPLE’S OCS ASHER >:(((((

you have permission to marry eule. but marion comes as a side piece. this is non-negotiable.

as for orpheus, ask anil lmao

suddenly occurs to me that nobody knows who these people are. oH well maybe i’ll post more later TwT

i wrote this at 2AM coughing so if this is incoherent i sincerely apologize

#who let stella write #answering asks #writeblr #original story #original characters

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nagalias-mindscape · 1 year ago

Text

… I made the mistake of reading prompt suggestions for stories while needing to write for my SCP fanfic.

On one hand, I wrote nothing of importance chapter wise.

On the other hand, I now have dialogue lines for different characters and their interactions. I got a feel for plot points AND character personalities.

I’m not certain what the net gain/loss is on this. Different things I’ve decided on for my story are below Warning: may be a bit long.

—- —- —-

> Draven is a sweetheart, yeah, but also an asshole. “James told me it was wrong to wear a shirt with a target on it in light of last weeks assassination attempt on my life. So I changed it!” “… You’re wearing the same shirt, though?” “Nope! This one glows in the dark!”

> Iceberg and Alison are very much the stereotypical siblings who annoy each other, but heavens help you if you hurt one of them because the other gives no mercy.

> Draven and Iceberg should not be allowed alone together for more than 30 minutes (although they can still get into trouble in that time frame). James Talloran, pre SCP-3999, is not acceptable supervision for the two of them as he will enable their chaos. Post SCP-3999 is a different story.

> Iceberg’s gradual change in personality (actively hostile -> passively annoyed -> resigned acceptance of not having a personal space) confuses everyone who isn’t in his immediate circle of interactions and doesn’t know what happened (Meridiana happened. She’s a force of nature).

> Dr. Gears has many regrets about letting Alison and Iceberg interact as often as they do, but no one has more regrets than Aaron Siegel (O-1) who suffers the combined forces of the two to annoy him.

> SCP-166 (Meridiana) is an innocent angel, don’t let Allison and Iceberg tell you otherwise.

> Iceberg 100% relearns sarcasm from Alison and his days are never filled with boredom again, much to many people’s horror.

> For all that Alison and Iceberg are siblings who will absolutely knife someone who messes with the other, they did originally meet under some unfavorable terms… that mostly raised questions in Alisons head about what the fuck kind of person Iceberg is to not even be concerned that she’s been actively trying to kill him for multiple hours in a row.

> The more I write it, the more the idea of Iceberg x Simon Glass is making me coo. They can be very sweet on each other… while still also being terrifying.

> Julian may not be the leader of the Chaos Siblings (TJ Bright, Alison Chao, Meridiana, Iceberg, Draven, James, and whoever else I add to this pile), he is also usually the one who startles the rest by just appearing in a room their in. Because he checked for a back door.

> Neither Dr. Bright or Mikell Bright are part of the “Chaos Siblings” but that’s fine with them. They’re just happy TJ can try to be a relatively non-anomalous kid around Iceberg.

> Meridiana needs to stop trying to pick up flowers she sees and eat them. “That… was a paper flower, Meri.” “… That does explain the weird aftertaste.”

> James and Draven can bicker like an old married couple, and they are 1000% smitten with each other. You think Glass and Iceberg can be diabetes-inducing? James and Draven are 500% worse.

> Meridiana has no qualms about going with the flow when one her pseudo siblings decides they want to cause chaos. She’s usually the one cheering them on- unless it involves potentially hurting someone.

> SCP-3999 does not like Iceberg. At all. It will tolerate him simply because it literally can’t do anything to him. James occasionally crashes in Iceberg’s room when reality decides it wants to upend itself around him for this reason.

> On the flip side, 408 adores Iceberg because he reunited Draven and Dr. Kondraki and got the two reconcile. And Dr. Kondraki to ease off the alcohol.

> Dr. Glass loves his job, really he does! He loves the people he takes care of, too. He also wants to break shit and scream, because holy shit the Foundation is a stressful place to work and why is it too mich to ask for people to try to be functional adults?

> Iceberg has trouble believing all the bullshit that happens around him. The world made more sense before he was made to go back to school, although he will admit it’s more fun now.

> If you stick your fingers in his mouth, Iceberg will bite down regardless of how awake or asleep he is at the time. Dr. Glass discovered this the hard way.

> Iceberg regrets ever teaching Meridiana about his bombs. Like, major regrets. The only thing that’s stopping him from full-on panic is that Meridiana prefers peaceful solutions over violence. (He also might need a geiger counter, now, but that’s a Future-Iceberg problem).

> Dr. Clef is a dramatic asshole when it comes to parent-teacher conferences. Dr. Gears is suffering silently whenever they both have to arrive together and he has to listen to Dr. Clef mock-whine.

> Because of Iceberg, Family reunions are terrifying times for a lot of people. (Think of the Siegel-Gears-Chao chaos, and add in the Bright, Kondraki, and whatever last name Clef uses families. It’s total chaos all around).

> Alison is the first person to question anyone who claims Iceberg is dead, regardless of what “proof” is presented to her. No one gets to kill Iceberg until she does. The same is true of any rumors of her grandfather’s demise.

> Iceberg has 100% been inside the Wanderer’s Library to bring soup to Alison whenever she gets sick. It annoys the other people on how he’s getting in without triggering anything.

> Iceberg will shiv someone who touches any chocolate that’s marked as his. Eat the last chocolate in his hidden stash? Sleep with both eyes open because Iceberg will get his revenge.

> Iceberg is very tempted by Alison’s offer of going no-contact with the Foundation via hiding in the Wanderer’s Library full time, but ultimately decides against it.

> Meridiana and Alison quickly learn better than to jokingly challenge Iceberg to something as he will do it- one only needs to look back at the swimming challenge issued to Iceberg to realize this.

> For the purposes of Plot Hilarity (and because all claim to reality has been trashed), Iceberg is ‘immune’ to SCP-963 with a caveat. He’ll still die if it comes into contact with his skin, but the amulet immediately triggers Iceberg’s anomaly into trying to defend himself- so amulet gets frozen solid on the side facing Iceberg. Said amulet, and Dr. Bright, are both fine after being scrapped off of Iceberg. This is one of the few instances of something continuing to work after coming into contact with the full force of Iceberg’s ‘energy’ draining properties.

> Iceberg meets many members of the O5. Usually without him knowing. He would like the Assassin to stop using his apartment as cold-body storage, however. He’ll keep the poisons without complaint, mind you.

> Draven and James are both horrified when they learned that not only is Iceberg amazing at making explosives, he’s pretty decent at picking locks, making poisons, and hacking electronics (not that he’s been able to do much of that last one since got his anomaly), but that he also taught Meridiana how to do all that too and she’s decent at them, too.

> Alison 100% teaches Meridiana about memes, just to fuck with Dr. Clef.

> For a new years party, Dr. Kondraki notes barrels of explosives. Iceberg is offened at the implication that they may be store-bought because that’s no fun.

> Alison would very much like to know the definition of the word “legal” that people keep questioning her about.

> Alison worries about her brother- she asked for flirting tips from the ONE person she personally knows in a stable (and healthy!) relationship, and got told “don’t do what Simon did and throw knives at the object of your affection”.

> It actually startles- and scares- Iceberg the day he realizes the family group he managed to gather around himself are here to stay. As in, it’s not just a cover story anymore- it’s full on reality. No going back, now.

> Alison is 100% the sort of person who would smack Dr. Clef with a salmon simply because the salmon was on sale. Full price salmon? Nah, not worth the money.

> Draven’s response to the BS he can get into is usually “In my defense, James left me unsupervised.” This a valid- and acceptable- response for the Foundation.

> Alison was gifted a cursed / possessed Furby by Iceberg. Allison adores it, especially after it tries (and fails) to stab her grandfather.

> Dr. Glass is 100% the sort of person who would find an abandoned pet on the side of the road and decide to keep them. This amuses and exasperates Iceberg- whose anomaly makes keeping standard household pets a real trial.

> One of the few things Iceberg cannot teach Meridiana how to do, is cook. Not because he can’t cook, but because they will inevitably end up with a kitchen being on fire. Somehow.

> Dr. Bright has no reality-bending abilities. This does not stop Dr. Clef from being suspicious of where Dr. Bright keep pulling out all those snacks from.

> Dr. Bright has been known to use said snacks to bribe favors out of Iceberg. This works without fail, since Dr. Bright uses chocolate against him.

> Iceberg would totally swallow a grenade on accident.

> If you think Dr. Glass can be terrifying, you should meet his mothers. He claims they can be far more terrifying, although Iceberg doesn’t get it since they were absolutely smitten with him over making their son a happy man.

> Alison is absolutely blown away by the eventual trust Iceberg puts into her. She’s family, as far as he’s concerned- why wouldn’t he trust her?

> That same trust is given to all his siblings- even TJ.

> That trust is also given back, much to Iceberg’s confusion. He still don’t get how actual families work, but he’s been told that’s fine. He’ll learn eventually.

> Iceberg doesn’t really care for Mikell Bright, but will happily help make Adam Bright’s week a whole lot worse if Mikell or Dr. Bright asks.

> If Aaron Siegel finds his drinks poisoned, chances are Alison had a hand in it. Even if it was literally impossible for her to have done it or organized it, 80% of the time it was her fault.

> If Draven ever has a terrible idea for something, he’ll tell Iceberg instead of James.

> When asked about how his childhood self imagined his future to be, Iceberg will remark “I was making explosives when I was five- the fact that I’m still alive comes as a surprise to present me.”

> Iceberg will never say he had a boring childhood- he was making explosives! That said, he’d happily trade all the explosives and excitement for having had an actual family who gave a damn…. But not anymore, now that he’s got a family to belong to. One that does give a damn about him.

> The Chaos Siblings like to rib Iceberg, who takes it all with grace. They all know that O5 would look the other way if Iceberg took real offense- without meaning to, he became too valuable to depose of. As long as Iceberg does things within reason, they’re usually content to leave him be.

> Anytime Dr. Clef remarks his surprise at something his daughter knows that doesn’t seem like something she should know, chances are 50-50 on either Alison or Iceberg having taught it to her.

> Speaking of Chaos Siblings and Family Reunions, Iceberg has a bit of a habit of getting adopted. First by Dr. Gears, then by Meridiana, then by Draven, and then by TJ Bright.

> I have 0 clue if I’m going to add Sigguros of this equation, but Iceberg would be the one adopting her (as a sibling). Doesn’t matter that she’s a fully grown adult, he’s going to take care of her like Meridiana took care of him.

> People at the school are terrified when they get to know Iceberg and realize that he has MORE family than just him and Meridiana, and he’s nowhere near the most dramatic of them. “Also, with this family, who said there’s sense to be had?”

> Draven and Iceberg are totally the two-brain cell duo. The trouble they can get into together makes for quality entertainment and a very unique kind of stupidity. Usually at their own expense, which is fine since Foundation healthcare is pretty top-tier.

—- —- —-

I have so many more thigns I could mention, but my hand is cramping from holding the phone and it’s basically 3 in the morning. Yuck.

#text #scp fanfiction

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themoonshoes · 1 year ago

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1-7 for dinjael :)

OKAY <3

1. what, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re…hot…”

din: she’s got him pinned with her lightsaber to his neck while she’s trying to train him to fight with the darksaber, and there’s a moment a la princess mononoke when he’s like oh. hm. if he hadn’t been fearing for his life during their first encounter he probably would have noticed her appearance a little more, but at the time he uhhh was too worried about getting his head cut off :)

jael: shootout on batuu. maybe it’s adrenaline, but she sees his like. over-competence and the way he handles a blaster and can only stand there like 🧍‍♂️ for a sec

2. does this change over time? what things do they find “hot” about their partner after they’ve been together for some time, and have had more time to, well, notice and appreciate?

din: her eyes make him feel like a prey animal (he’s called them jaig eyes before which makes her laugh) and he likes putting little braids in her hair (grogu picks up on this and tries doing it too. its cute) she’s also like Fit and built for fighting Creatures and the like so once he feels like he’s allowed to find her body Hot he super super Does

jael: once she sees his face she pretty much immediately finds that attractive (his eyes are special to her bc not many have gotten to see them the way she has), but she also likes the physicality of him, too. his back. his neck. girl get into it.

3. by contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh…I adore them…”

din: he sees how she is with the people in her hive (lore stuff) on Ead, and how much she cares for them, and is kind of immediately drawn to that, but it’s during Batuu Shenanigans where they’re both very much out of their element and in close quarters and have to rely on each other that he sort of has that little mermaid kiss the girl moment and is like wait i think you’re really important to me now. and then she meets grogu and immediately clicks with him and that’s what makes din go wow i think i love her.

jael: once she got to see a little more of his emotive side—they’re both reserved people outside of their circles, so she knew something had changed between them (again. on batuu) when he opened up to her and was willing to talk to her about his like.. crisis of identity/faith/purpose. she went oh. i think i care you. and when he takes her to tattooine and boba calls her ‘friend’ she goes. we are friends!!!

4. does this change over time? what will always reliably make them melt with how much they adore the other character?

din: what can i say, he’s attracted to conviction in leadership, so idk if it’s attraction or a sense of pride when he sees her being a good leader to her people, but he never gets tired of seeing her be compassionate and competent. ALSO he thinks she’s so incredible bc of what she can do through the force too so like. all around he’s just a big fan LMAO he’s her biggest fan

jael: she is not immune to din with Baby. it’s sweet to her. and when he engages in her planet’s culture and comes alongside her to like give her support she remembers all over again why she fell in love with this dude in the first place. this includes when he tries to engage with force stuff, because she knows he doesn’t get it, but he’s willing to understand (for her, for grogu) and that’s SPECIAL to her bc she hasn’t had someone who wants to Get Her like that before. tee hee

5. how do they consciously realize that they like the other character? does it take them a while?

din: ok so for some story lore they have to act sort of undercover while Doing Stuff on batuu bc of their respective statuses, and they both kind of stick out like a sore thumb even on that planet, so people assume they’re a traveling couple bc why wouldn’t they? and he doesn’t realize how much he sort of enjoys that role until they go back to ead and don’t have to do that anymore. he does not want to confront that btw he has too much goin on!!!

jael: Face Reveal Time. mama it's the vulnerability.

6. how do they react to the realization that they like the other character? is it an “oh my god I’m never going to think about this again” thing, or are they pretty comfortable with it?

din: he is definitely less willing than she is to admit that to himself, but there’s a situation right before they leave batuu for ead where he’s sort of forced to realize he can’t keep her out and still like. have her you know!!!!!

jael: it’s a very new feeling for her since she hasn’t had the.. like luxury, in a way? of a relationship like this before but she feels very strongly (in all aspects tbh) so once she has that little realization moment it’s definitely like a switch was flipped and she starts noticing every little thing he does or every little touch. yearn more, idiot

7. do they (or would they) pursue the other character’s affection, and if so, how? do they tell the other character how they feel? try to earn their admiration? woo them with romantic gestures? flirt with them, skillfully or otherwise?

din: he’s blunt, so once he comes to his senses, yes he tells her (he tells her first!!!) but even before that he finds her a new kyber crystal to replace the one he evaporates :) he does flirt, in his awkward way, but only whenever it’s the two of them. i think there’s probably a part of him, too, that sees her ability as a leader and tries to live up to that, like he’d be a little less reckless because he knows it would upset her etc etc

jael: she likes to fluster him, but she’s also like not mean about it. oh she does clean his armor for him in the Before times which like. in his eyes was as much as a marriage proposal. and while she’s not doing it for din’s benefit, she does give grogu some force training (not jedi training. that was some guy named luke’s job and he fumbled the bag.) and is by extension another guardian figure for him, which does endear her to din in a big way!!!!

this was long winded i apologize!!!!!!

character development questions for couples

#asks #areax #dinjael #TY ERIKA TEE HEE

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spideywhites · 2 years ago

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Thank you so much for the new chapter! I’m in exam period rn so this was a very welcome reprieve lol, I kid u not I reread the chapter at least a few times. I’ve also never properly commented on a chapter before so I’m a bit shy and was tempted to send this anonymously haha

Word vomit of lengthy thoughts on the new chapter:

Natsu training Sasuke!! I’m curious to see how their relationship will develop, now that Sasuke’s perspective of Natsu has changed from ‘reliable brother figure’ to ‘reliable brother figure + teacher + goal + caretaker’ of sorts. Knowing Sasuke’s character in the anime, this probably marks the start of an intense rivalry that’s likely one-sided on his part for a long time..

I’m also curious how Natsu’s ‘mentor’ relationship with Sasuke will affect the canon rivalry between Sasuke and Naruto. Perhaps this will also affect Natsu’s relationship with Naruto somehow? With Naruto maybe wondering why his beloved bro is teaching both his friends but not him

It’s sad to see Natsu finding it hard to face Sasuke, being reminded of all the angst with Shisui and Itachi. They’re all so precious 😭

Also… the bamboo chain necklace!!

Hinata standing up for her friends (and herself)! I love their little trio, but seeing them interact with Natsu on the side also drives home the fact that Shisui and Itachi are gone… also the line abt Natsu still being reluctant to return to any empty apartment… 😭😭 Eagerly awaiting Natsu interacting with more of Konoha 12! And having ppl to talk to! And eventually have a heart-to-heart with!

Natsu avoiding using Shisui’s tanto bc he doesn’t feel worthy of it yet, him telling Shisui not to linger bc he’s afraid Shisui will see what type of person he becomes.. or what Konoha makes of him.. my heartt ❤️‍🩹

More Itachi/Natsume parallels… really driving in the angst rip

Ino and her cute crush on Natsu!! “None of to ur business!” and running away, aww. The start of ppl crushing on Natsu and him being entirely oblivious, it seems. I’m curious as to whether Ino’s initial shock at seeing Natsu is bc of his striking appearance / she knows he’s the ‘demon child’ of Konoha / maybe she’s seen him around since Natsu’s been picking up Naruto?

Natsu finally learning the meaning behind the camellias 🥲

Natsu teaching Hinata fuuinjutsu and Hinata teaching him how to act like an heir… curious to see how this goes and them surprising ppl with it!!

Also, some random things I’m wondering regarding Natsu, Naruto and Sasuke living together:

Who does most of the cooking? I imagine Natsu taking the lead and making sure Naruto and Sasuke learn how to as well

Do they all sleep in the same bedroom and share 1 or 2 beds?

Naruto and Sasuke fighting over dinner and who gets which blanket… adorable kiddos

Anywho, love the new chapter sm! Also super excited for the new arc 😆😆

Happy to hear you enjoyed it, and good luck on your exams!!! (I do not miss that time period, lol) It’s super nice to hear all your thoughts, and I’m glad you shared! I honestly get so excited to see that people like my writing enough to really thinking about it. As for your questions:

1) Natsume does, in fact, handle most of the cooking. Naruto is actually learning rather well (with Natsume’s influence) but he can’t be trusted to cook things on a stove because he gets distracted too easily. Sasuke can make cereal. In the end, Natsume tries to cook huge portions to keep leftovers for as many days as possible because he can’t actually cook every night. Otherwise they end up getting takeout maybe a little too frequently…

2) There is still only one bedroom for now! It’s not going to last long with three growing boys, tbh… Naruto and Natsume have resumed sharing a bed, giving Sasuke the other one. Sometimes if Natsume feels too crowded, he’ll just sleep on the couch instead. Seems like a problem that needs to be solved soon… :)

Thanks again for reading!!! I’m looking forward to the new arc as well >:3c (and more of the Konoha 12 as well!)

#aquahaha #fic: tcos #tcos spoilers

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riiseandfall · 2 years ago

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kit young . genderfluid . he / they ➶ I RECOGNISE THAT FACE ! that’s OSMANTHUS , the TWENTY - EIGHT year old AVOX from DISTRICT ELEVEN . they’ve been in the capitol around NINE YEARS , long enough to gain a reputation for being so CLEVER & IMPATIENT . they’re so lucky getting to live in the tribute center for the duration of the games! ( character IS part of the uprising )

Basic Information

Full Name: Osmanthus Nicknames: Oz nobody calls them Osmanthus ugh Age: 28 District: Eleven Gender: Genderfluid Pronouns: He / they Orientation: Bisexual Profession: Harvester, Avox

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Kit Young Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Brown Height: 6'1" Piercings: Pierced earlobes & upper lobes Scars: A scar on the right side of his lower stomach

Relationships

Father: Taurus (deceased) Mother: Evangeline Siblings: Rue (older sister - deceased) , four younger siblings (ages: 27, 25, 24, & 23) Significant Other: N/A

Extra

MBTI: ENFP-T (The Campaigner) Temperament: Sanguine Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good Primary Vice: Pride Primary Virtue: Kindness Element: Air

BIO-[TW: MENTION OF DEATH AND TORTURE]

It's daunting, life in Eleven. As soon as the sun is up, those who are old enough are out working -- when it is the busiest season, they don't come home until long after the sun has set.

You're the second oldest in your family, bright-eyed and curious. Those long days never seem to get to you, full of all a child's wonder. It didn't matter that you were working, you were with family -- and Rue always helped keep things fun.

You run after her, always chasing, wanting to climb the tallest trees right there with her -- she helps teach you how, teaches you about the flowers that grow outside the fields (your favorite are blue stars). Teaches you about her 'special friends', how to signal and sing for them -- you find joy in the way they echo it right back to you. A secret way of passing messages, of signaling the end of the day.

Of alerting each other to peacekeepers at night when you both sneak out to the fields, smuggling as much extra crops as you can. There are too many mouths to feed back home and what the capitol provides isn't enough.

Maybe that's where your rebellious nature started.

Or maybe it is when your sister's name is chosen -- when she walks up to that stage and you want nothing more than to follow after her (always chasing), to beg anyone to take her place. But no one does. The district is quiet and your mother holds you back while your father stares at the stage with a steely expression -- (you've never seen him look like that before).

You never did want to watch the games -- but this year, your eyes never leave the screen. The capitol adores Rue, how could they not? You hope it will be enough, hope beyond hope that it can get her back home, back to where the two of you can sit among the high branches of a tree and listen to the mockingjays.

But it isn't enough. How could it be? That hope is dashed and shattered with the single throw of a spear. Your father has that look on his face again, your mother screams, the siblings who are old enough sob but you -- you feel an emotion in your chest you never felt before. Something that burns (it isn't fair, it isn't fair, it isn't FAIR), it feels like those words choke you as you hold them back.

You're far too young for the rage that flows through you.

The girl from District Twelve is there. The girl on fire. Does she know how much that song eases the pain in your heart? Does she know how much Rue would have loved the flowers she chose? Does she know how hand after hand raises in the crowd to mirror that gesture back to her? How it sparks and ignites something in those among the crowd.

Your father is the first to charge forward. His hand ripped from yours as your mother pulls you back, she tells you to help her get your siblings home.

Your father never comes home.

Things don't get better in Eleven when the dust settles. People rally when and where they can, your mother tries to shield you from it, guides your head away from those painted symbols, but you see them. It is like they're branded in your eyes.

A year passes and your mother is fussing over your outfit, you complain as all children do. But she says it's an important day. The Victory Tour. There are tears in her eyes already but she holds it together for you. And you hold it together for your siblings.

The projected image of Rue makes it difficult as you and your family takes your designated spots, your hand grips your mother's tightly. She's strong. You have to be strong too.

It is bizarre, to see them both in real life. They look taller than you would have thought. And even while Peeta offers a kindness of his own -- winnings for both families, Katniss just looks at your family as if she had seen a ghost.

There were some who said that what she did in the arena was a play -- a way to garner sympathy. But no one among your family. And when she steps forward to speak, to talk about your sister, you aren't strong enough to keep from crying. You know how she feels -- you see Rue in every mockingjay and every single blue star.

That symbol is raised, three fingers pressed to lips and held up. A spark.

You recognize the old man, have seen him in the fields. You're panicked when he's pulled forward, when the crowd turns violent the way it did a year ago, people rushing forward against peacekeepers who pushed back. Your mother holds your siblings tight and the victors are led away as a a gunshot rings in your ears and the old man slumps to the ground. There are two more shots, fired carelessly to get the crowd to more back -- so loud and resounding that you don't even notice that blooming pain in your side until it becomes unbearable. You heard your mother scream as you fall to the ground, feels tears that land on your cheeks before your fall unconscious.

You are only allowed a couple of weeks to heal before you are thrown back to work.

Of course those promised winnings were shut down, but even that one month that your family did receive went far. As the years pass, things continue to get worse in Eleven. Peacekeepers began to watch everyone more closely.

It just meant those who rebelled got sneakier -- more clever. You whistle new songs to the mockingjays now to avoid detection. You climb the highest trees and keep watch for those below. And when the sun sets and you whisper a song to those mockingjays (lay down your head and close your eyes--), you wonder if Rue would be proud of you.

When you're older, you spread the word -- you recruit, you listen and report back to District Thirteen.

They never catch you. You were quick on your feet and quiet, a shadow like your sister before you. But not everyone in Eleven wishes to rebel, all it took was one person -- one whisper in the right ear, a traitor -- to bring it all crashing down.

You escape the peacekeepers that descend on a once secret meeting, others aren't so lucky. But you know you can't stay. They know what you are now -- and you can't put your family at risk. Your mother is teary-eyed but strong, she provides you with a few extra supplies. She hugs you for as long as she can. You kiss your sibling's temples. A goodbye that doesn't last long enough before you slip away into the night, past the district's borders.

You don't make it far.

You run, but you aren't fast enough. You fight, but you aren't strong enough. And now? You're a rebel and a deserter.

You don't know how long they had you for -- how many days and nights were spent being questioned and subjected to pain after pain when your answers didn't satisfy -- and they rarely did.

They wanted names. You gave them nothing. They wanted to know locations, what the songs meant and you kept quiet. You would give them nothing.

It is quiet for a time, no more questions. You wonder if they are trying to lull you into a false sense of security when they send a doctor in to speak with you. To explain. They call you a dangerous insurgent -- as if you had ever wielded a weapon other than the truth -- other than your voice. But they would take that from you in the end.

Part of you wishes they had just killed you.

By the time the Capitol is done, you're close to broken -- shattered into so many pieces you fear that you will never put yourself back together. The assign you to the people of the Capitol -- a silent servant. An Avox.

But you have nothing but time. Time to gather those broken pieces and attempt to make them fit back together -- you're stubborn, clinging to blue stars and whistled songs to find your way back. It takes years, but you do it. District Eleven has taught you nothing if not diligence.

This year is different. You are pulled from the manor you were stationed at, placed into the Tribute Center -- assigned to the penthouse apartment for those from District Twelve.

This year is different. The rebels are no longer standing idly by. They are angry, the victors are angry, and you are angry.

A spark turned into an inferno.

#mj.intro #osmanthus.intro #//stfu bitch damn writing fuckin novels over here

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nonbinarycharmybee · 1 year ago

Text

Sonic: Ours

This is just a short drabble based on an au that I don't plan on writing an actual fic for (which is why it's here and not ao3 lol). I might write some more for this universe (I have. Ideas.) but they won't be in chronological order and will likely jump around randomly. For context, it's basically "bokurano but with sonic characters" so if you're lost just read the second paragraph of this wikipedia page and fill in the blanks ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

cw: major character death ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s raining when Tails opens the front door, stomping a little too loudly down the hall and into the kitchen.

“Tails?” Vanilla calls from the living room, looking up from her tea in concern. “Is everything alright?”

He freezes, hand on the refrigerator door. “Uh. Yeah.” There’s a photo of Cream and Vanilla magneted to the fridge, professional and staged, but Cream has her arms wrapped around her mother’s neck and they’re both smiling widely enough that Tails can still feel the wisps of adoration seeping through.

He swallows. “Sorry.” Then, keeping his head down, he runs off to his room.

It’s not actually his room, per se - that still exists back at his house, which also still exists, he’s just too much of a coward to go back. Back to where there were probably still blue quills stuck in the couch and leftover chili dogs in the fridge and the hammock chair in the workshop that he always fell asleep on even with the noisy machines and - and - .

He doesn’t want to think about it.

Vanilla had offered, sympathetically, to let him stay in their guest room “for as long as he needed”. It's a pretty old-fashioned room, with floral wallpaper and a four-poster bed that looked like it had been made fifty years ago. He feels a little bad now about leaving all his toys scattered everywhere.

He picks up a socket wrench. If he's…if he is leaving soon, he should clean up. He’d never been very organized - his toys always scattered about, never lined up on shelves, but he always knew where everything was. “Organized chaos,” …he had jokingly called it once. But it’d be awfully rude, to say the least, to make Cream and Vanilla deal with his mess afterwards.

He sits down on the floor, back against the wall, staring at the small pink rosettes on the opposite wall and tracing the outline of the wrench with his finger.

There’s a knock at the door. Cream opens it slightly, peeking through the crack.

“Hey,” he says quietly. She takes the invitation to come in.

“...You got it, didn’t you,” she says softly. It’s not even a question. Tails just looks up. She stares at the grayish-blue pattern on his fur, creeping up his neck to the side of his face, the same one he saw in the reflection of a store window just hours ago.

“How…how long do you think we have?” She presses her lips together, uncertain. “The last fight was only a few days ago….”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. He’d tried running down equations, see if he could find a pattern or prediction to when said fights would appear, but they were just random.

Cream sits down next to him, crossing her legs. “Sorry….”

Tails shakes his head. “It’s fine. I mean, it was bound to happen eventually, right?”

A few moments of silence pass before he hears a sniff. Then another. Then Cream has her hands pressed up against her eyelids, desperately trying to suppress a sob.

“Oh- hey, it’s okay!” Tails closes the gap between them and hugs her with one arm. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. I promise.” Then he feels bad, because Cream is in the contract too, so said promise is obviously a lie.

She sniffles again. “You should…be the one crying….”

“Yeah,” Tails looks away. In truth, he hadn’t felt like crying since this whole thing started. It all felt a little fuzzy, a little too unreal to comprehend. The logical part of his brain said it was mild dissociation as a coping technique. The emotional part of his brain told the former to shut up.

“Tails? Cream?” Vanilla knocks on the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

Tails’ eyes widen. He doesn’t know how to explain why it looks like he painted his fur, and why it won’t wash off.

Cream scrambles up, quickly scrubbing any semblance of tears away from her face. “Tails isn’t feeling good, Mother,” she says quickly.

“Ah.” Vanilla purses her lips, hesitantly, like she wants to say something but doesn’t want to overstep a fragile boundary. “Well, I’ll put your plate in the fridge, dear. You can come down to eat any time you like.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles. Right now, hunger is the last thing he’s feeling. He wonders, idly, if it would be possible to die of starvation beforehand, or if this mark has granted him temporary immortality.

It’s not like he’d lose anything if he tested that hypothesis out.

But, then the mark would just go to someone else, and the cycle would just start over again. As long as he’s still here, he needs to spend as much time as possible finding a real solution.

He picks up the gem on the vanity that he’d been using as a work desk, an oddity amongst the carpenter’s pencils and loose screws, and turns it over with his hands.The large emerald had been a brilliant dark blue once, the color of the ocean on a summer day, but now it’s gray and dull and lifeless.

He knows the emerald is connected to this, he just can’t figure out how. Every single test, every sample and analysis concludes that it’s just a plain rock now. If he had a working emerald, maybe he could make quicker progress, but he doesn’t know where or how or even if he can find one.

He spends the whole night at the vanity, adjusting and reprogramming scanners, desperately trying to find a wavelength that would reveal something useful. Vanilla brings a plate of waffles up to him in the morning, which makes him feel a little guilty, so after taking a few bites (he’s still not hungry) he decides to at least push his toys into piles to make sorting through them a bit easier. He doesn’t know who would take his personally monogrammed screwdriver, but he hopes it goes to a good home. It’s been through a lot, ever since he’d given it to Tails their first Christmas together. It deserves it.

He doesn’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that he feels a familiar buzzing sensation overtake his body a few days later, like he’d simultaneously been dunked in ice water and injected with a thousand grams of caffeine right into his bloodstream. It’s supposed to be a protective technique, a high-end anaesthetic so their brains won’t overload from the pain of having every single atom of their body split apart and drop dead as soon as they reformed inside the control room. He drops his pencil as his hands phase and glitch like a faulty video game. Looks like he won't solve this equation after all, he thinks.

If only he could have had a little more time.

He sits down on a perfect imitation of his black rolling chair in his workshop, right down to the scuff marks on its wheels, and glances around. Cream is practically sinking into her large armchair, the same chair she avoided back home. Silver is floating listlessly above his beanbag, while Amy picks at the hem of her dress on a cute white kitchen chair. Vector is apathetically rolling back and forth on a cheap office chair while Espio stares blankly down at his tatami mat - they hadn’t been the same since the third member of their little trio had been chosen.

Shadow is leaning against the far wall, away from everybody. He won’t go near his seat (a plain metal folding chair, of all things) until the fight has begun.

Tails’ eyes skip over the ornate throne, the chunk of stone steps with creeping vines, the…the hammock chair in his workshop that he’d always fall asleep on even with the noisy machines.

Omochao materializes next to him. “Are you ready?” he asks cheerfully.

He’s not.

“Yes,” he nods. “Let’s do this.”

#ficposting #mine #idk how else to tag this lol #also im sorry for making omochao that guy in my defense i just thought it'd be funny

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