#thoth fanfic

[dandelion-blues]

Fiat Lux

For my best friend, @ilikesand

For my best friend, in which I never would have understood the gravity of the misunderstood without you. Would have never had Octavian become one of my favorite characters. I hope you like it!

Also, on Ao3

Summary (PJO One-Shot):

Octavian knew the signs. He knew the gods were displeased, and still, everyone wanted to disregard the rules. So Octavian was done with sacrificing stuffed animals - the gods would no longer answer to such inconsequential sacrifices.

Apollo takes notice of his dear descendant and grants him a true vision and a choice upon Octavian's sacrifice. Well, it's not like Octavian would take the alternative of sitting back and doing nothing, regardless of what others think. He's already used to people not liking him, and bullying him for things he can't control, so he might as well play the villain if it means saving the world - if it means saving his siblings, siblings who probably don't even remember him.

Octavian

The air was biting, cold and rigid. Octavian didn’t particularly mind though — no, what he minded was the festering storm and rolling thunder clouds on the horizon. As Augur, it was his duty to divine the message the gods have sent him. The glares and spits he got as he headed up to Jupitar’s temple from his fellow comrades notwithstanding.

Thunder boomed as he entered the temple and Octavian hurried along to the altar. He didn't think about the last time Jupiter was in such a mood. The quakes of power searing through his temples as visions of lightning strikes burned villages and people to dust. No, Octavian instead thought of the boisterous laughter of his siblings as a storm boomed around them. Of the times when it was as if the storm was playing along to their childish claps with a loud quake of thunder following them.

Ah, it seems he's getting a bit too sentimental. No matter, Octavian has long since buried his heart under his duty to uphold the order and pride of Camp Jupitar. Much like his hands are stained red in the freshly dead animals offered to the gods, so too will the camp be if they don't appease the gods. Really, what did Praetor Reyna think when she sought to go to the old lands? They are forbidden for a reason.

The gods are angry. And Octavian is done playing with useless stuffed animals. He warned the senate that the old ways were there for a reason — that messing with tradition is treacherous, and yet, the council's soft palate won out. But if they won't get things done and rightfully appease the gods — Octavian will do it himself!

Thus, with a careful and quick slice, blood spilled from a young calf. The red seeped on the altar, as the animal thudded down, its heart beating its last. Octavian breathed in deeply and thanked the calf for its sacrifice on his exhale, for the spirits held in respiration — of the life taken and given. Octavian knew the gods would do much worse if they didn't get their dues.

Just as the patience began to seep away from him as the moments ticked away, the blood starting to dry, Octavian's received a vision with a searing clarity. The Earth claimed thousands of lives in her womb — the screaming and gasping as they were buried alive. The Greeks fighting the Romans in a bloody war as Terra Mater laughed.

Octavian gasped for breath, heaving and trying to calm his pounding heart.

“So, my descendant has finally decided to stop sacrificing useless pillow pets ?!” A silky voice whispered.

But even quiet the voice held power, as the once cold room became almost sweltering hot.

Octavian instantly knelt to the ground, knowing intimately who this was — his ancestor, the source of his bloodline — Apollo.

“My lord,” Octavian spoke reverently and respectfully, staring at the marble tile. Nothing more or less unless given permission.

Octavian heard the footsteps heading toward him, the steps like a tap-tap to a somber dance. The legacy didn't dare look up, even as he saw the golden sandals of the god before him.

The god knelt down a bit, reaching hand up gently but forcefully and grabbed Octavian's chin, making him stare right in the burning gaze of the god. The legacy couldn't formulate words in his mind for how beautiful and terrifying those golden eyes were. Much later all Octavian could think was that he was staring right into the might of the sun, and the god protected him from burning from such a sight.

“Yes, you will do, my favored descendant.” The god whispered in Octavian's ear, the words coiling around his mind like a snake.

And then the god whispered to his descendant a plan of power and glory, and a burning fiery aftermath or of the righteous storm that will save the world from destruction. That should the storm save the world; the son of Jupiter will pay the price of sacrifice. But should Octavian intervene and influence the path of fate… of the scorn and distrust should Octavian survive it. The legacy didn't dare utter a word about how it would hardly be different then things are now and how any price was worth it as long as he stays alive, but somehow, he felt the god knew what he was thinking. The power of the gods uneclipsed and true.

The god’s eyes impossibly softened, looking more akin to the burning embers of dusk than the blazing glory of day, “Yes, my descendant, the one who shines brightly with my gift. You have shown resolve and cunning even as others look down upon and mock you. You are the one who knew that Mors was chained and forced Mars to acknowledge it, even if others began to look at you callously. You knew that you could not spare troops to help the quest to free Death, lest Camp Jupiter would fall. Even if you had to be seen as evil in the process.”

“So, I ask of you, my dear Octavian, are you willing to do what needs to be done?” Apollo asks, his voice stern yet kind.

Octavian looks into his ancestor's eyes, those beautiful balls of flame, and says, “Yes, my lord.”

“Then rise my Pontifex Maximus.” The god commands, and Octavian does.

Even if nothing changes outwardly with the title. There is no crown or laurel Octavian now wears, he feels as if a great force is weighing him down, but still he rises.

Like always, Octavian will do what needs to be done, even if others hate and belittle him afterwards. Still, if it saves the world, if it saves his brother, then what does Octavian care that people will think him evil.

“You will save us all,” The god claims, and then the air swelters, the god burning brightly making the legacy close his eyes from the sheer light.

Then, the air grows cold as the god dreams his presence fit elsewhere, and a faint smell of laurels permeates in the temple. The sacrifice accepted and disappeared from view, even the stains of blood vaporizing before the legacy’s eyes.

All that's left is a paper floating down in the air. Octavian catches it, smudging the still wet blood from his offering on the paper. Both ends of the paper are charcoaled black and only one line can be read: to storm or fire the earth must fall.

Octavian straightens up and smiles grimly. He is the bridge between men and the gods, the Pontifex Maximus, and now has control of the Roman army. It's rather ironic that he now outranks all those that called him too weak and feminine to even wield a sword, but no matter, he knows his duty to camp and to the gods unlike them, who would rather sit by and watch the world burn. Ironic isn’t it, how the Morai twist and weave their tapestry?

Octavian may never be a good man, but he is at least a loyal one, and he will be damned to Hades if he didn’t do all he could to protect what little he has. He upheld the god's standards, even if others have faltered. He left his siblings to their father’s whims, because Lord Jupiter demanded it. Wanted them to prove themselves worthy of the king’s power and authority. Then, his big sister was mauled to the brink of death when she was twelve, and his little brother became more wolf than boy as Lady Juno demanded her prize.

But just this once, Octavian is able to uphold not just the god’s demands, but his personal one’s as well — one’s that he had to abandon so his brother grew up strong and capable. But now, with the future knowledge that Lord Apollo has granted him, Octavian won’t let the world fall to his storm if it’s the last thing he does. He will not damn his little brother to an early death, and so Octavian will brave the agony of burning alive — knowing his brother will be the one to survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fire was the hearth and the home, safety and warmth, but it was also destruction and searing pain. Why did his kin, the son of Apollo, or anyone else for that matter not tell him he was attached to the onager — to the unstable bomb of Imperial Gold that he devised to kill Mater Terra? Octavian knew he was to be burned alive to enact Lord Apollo’s vision to save the world — to save his little brother. But Octavian didn’t know it would be like this. Didn’t know that he was to be treated like an evil monster that needed to be burned alive.

Octavian knew he acted like a madman in his plans — that no one really liked him prior to his ascension to power. But did no one, not one of his comrades that knew him for years, try and understand why?

Octavian would like to say that it didn’t hurt — that his heart was long dead to the sting of betrayal — but like an innocent “witch” set to be burned at the stake, he was unprepared for how much fire would burn.

But guess it doesn’t matter anymore. With his ancestor’s help things were put in the correct motion, and now he was hurtled through the sky.

The air whipped around him like razors, and two screams joined him.

Octavian saw a vision, like he was no longer in his body of a boy flying on a bronze dragon and the evil Earth Goddess hurtling up in the sky. He watched like the phantom he was about to become as a brilliant fire erupted in the sky — pure golden white, brighter than Apollo’s might — and everyone one down below became blinded from the light.

‘Fiat Lux,’ Octavian thought, let there be light.

But, even as the vision of the blinding light came to him, and Octavian knew he was about to face his imminent death, all he could focus on was finding his siblings in the crowd.

There! He saw them for not even a second, but it was enough for Octavian to accept his demise. They were alive!

Still, that didn’t prepare the legacy for how much his death would hurt.

The might of the inferno charcoaled his flesh and ignited his veins in its all-consuming heat. The screams that ripped out of his throat were soon gone as his voice box crumbled to ash. The ringing in his ears like a blaring siren, but left to the silence of death, just as his eyes melted and empty sockets only saw darkness.

Thump-Thump

The agony of living in a body that should have already been a corpse.

Thump

Why was he still alive? He just wanted this to be over.

…Thump

Octavian for once felt absolutely nothing. It was a kind of numbness that felt wrong, as if he was on the verge of Chaos, of the void of nothingness in which all life sprung from.

…

At last, he can rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scarred soul was taken up and examined like it was a partially interesting thing. Two pitch black eyes stared at the essence of the boy’s soul, looking down upon it from his long black beak.

“Yes, yes, you who have suffered and preserved.” The being spoke to himself, “Of the one who always kept learning, even as the wisdom of what was to come was horrid. Your ancestor has a kindness in his heart that leads to tragedy, but even then, he knew that yours was too much. Of a legacy that would be wrongly scorned, and a family that would be left aching at your seeming betrayal.”

“Well, Apollo was already to be punished he knew,” The being cackled, a trilling sound as his black and white feathers ruffled, and he examined a vial in his dark humanoid hand, “So why not have his son have two cures prepared.”

The being smiled with their beak, and the ashes of the dead was given the Asclepius’ cure for death. Nerves, organs, bones, muscles, ligaments, and flesh all brought back. The once horrifically burned and scarred flesh is now as soft as a newborn’s.

“Why hello,” the being spoke to newly opened golden eyes — eyes marked by divinity, “My little magician.”

“Who are you?” The now revived Octavian spoke, his words tumbling and unfamiliar as if this was his first time speaking.

“Why, my friend. I am Thoth.” The Egyptian God of the Moon, Magic, Writing, Learning, and Wisdom spoke.

“Why-” Octavian spoke softly, not able to bring words to his tumulus thoughts, of the memories of pain that were no longer felt as his heart beat strongly in his chest.

“-am I alive?” The god finished the legacy. “Well let’s just say Apollo had a bit of foresight, and didn’t want to lose his favorite descendant.”

The god stroked his neck feathers with his humanoid hand, “Your gods are quite possessive after all. And of course, how could I not help when he came to me speaking of a legacy of two pantheons. You are quite the commodity, practically nonexistent, so how could I resist?”

Octavian’s mind was whirling, but that’s when it clicked. No wonder he didn’t recognize the god’s name. The legacy remembered when he was very little and knew nothing of his father’s place in Camp Jupiter, when his mother was still alive and present in his life. When she brought her family to the movie’s she started in — of an ancient civilization that worshiped gods with animal heads and human bodies. A film about the Egyptian Gods that his father was none too thrilled to see, calling them ridiculous. Of the repercussions that followed as his parents started yelling and fighting and soon a little girl boy with blonde hair and electric blue eyes was born, who was not his father’s daughter son — and, thus, is Octavian’s half sister brother.

Turns out the youngest sibling born of adultery having the same electric blue eyes as the eldest sibling — a searing blue like a strike from the heavens — was too much for Father to stand.

Then, the rest is history. Father took Octavian away from his starlet mother, and his half siblings, and introduced him to camp Jupiter and all the gods they worship — and started training him for his future duty as Augur. Of the harsh words and punishments should Octavian not excel at what he was taught. Of the sparse news outlets that Octavian snuck out to watch — of his mother’s falling fame, and his older sister running away. Of the visions that started to eat away at him — of screams and suffering.

Then, the son of Jupitar came to camp — with all too familiar electric blue eyes, and Octavian knew, he knew that this boy that was more wolf pup than boy (because he was raised by Lupa, even given a new name by the Wolf Goddess than by their human mother) was his little brother. That those harsh words his father called his mother now made sense as Octavian looked into those familiar eyes, the echoes of childhood and innocence long gone. Understanding that their Father called Beryl whore for a reason, as she fell into the God King’s lust not just once but twice when she was a married woman. But the second time, Juno wouldn’t abide her husband’s transgressions and took the child as her champion — to mold him into a perfect soldier. Never having the chance to just be an innocent child, but to be a slave forced into servitude.

Octavian could do nothing but stay away as the wolf boy was turned into a perfect solider, as Jason was isolated from having a family or friends of his own! As his skin was branded at 3 years old!

But, of course, even if Jason, his little brother, was allowed to live — even if only for his potential to bring Juno glory, Thalia would not be spared, even if Juno seemed to turn a blind eye. The slight of Jupiter cheating not once but twice, was too much. And so, when Octavian was an angry ten-year-old, Thalia was just twelve, and Jason was six — his big sister was dead. And all Octavian had to show for it was the tears streaming down his face as he dreamt of his big sister being ripped apart by hellhound. No vision years later of her surviving erased the pain, knowing that he could do nothing by watching as her blood and bones became bark and sap.

“Are you alright, little magician?” Thoth spoke softly.

Octavian blinked, tasting a bit of salt on his tongue. He wiped at his face and oh, he was crying. He laughed a bit, the sound bitter and hoarse. His siblings probably didn’t even remember who he was, he was hardly in their lives after all, so what right does he have to cry over them?!

“Yes, I���m fine.” Octavian lied, his eyes red and stuffy.

The god thankfully didn’t call him out on his lie, “Well, in that case, I think it’s time I start to teach you about your other heritage. Of the pharaoh in which you and your father descended from.”

Octavian inclined his head, only a numb echo of surprise panting in his skull. He wanted to avoid his intrusive thoughts, so focusing on some hopefully strenuous tasks instead of recounting his broken family was very much welcomed.

“Well, you see, as a descendant of a pharaoh, and the deal Apollo made, you are now my host…” Thoth went on to explain Octavian’s heritage and his expectation as a host to Thoth.

Octavian took it all in clinically. Truthfully, it felt like a traded one cage for another, but at least this time Octavian’s wings weren’t clipped. In fact, he now had an avatar form that had wings, generously gifted to him from his new connection to Thoth — not that it helped with Octavian’s fear of flying when he remembered his death.

The god, his god, was surprisingly human in caring about and helping Octavian overcome this fear, but the legacy knew gods — they didn’t just help out of the kindness of their hearts. That’s just not how they work, it’s hardly even how humans work either. Octavian would know — he’s analyzed people’s behaviors constantly over the years to make sure he reacted appropriately — as people all too often liked to answer with their fists when he didn’t react the right way.

Really, Octavian did not understand why people ask how you are if they don’t actually want to know?!

That’s why Octavian liked the gods — they were true to themselves, to their essence. And Thoth, Octavian, was starting to learn was somehow a lot like him. He liked to read and learn everything he could. He was blunt and honest… and his family life was a mess.

Octavian really shouldn’t be relating in such a way to a god, but as Thoth's host he found himself learning more and more about the god. He found himself soaring through the skies and learning about the constellations with vigor, and laughing at the god’s misconceptions to modern technologies. He threw himself at his host duties, though he did avoid the other avatars that tried to contact him like the plague. And he found himself trying to forget of the siblings that thought him dead, trying to live a new life without any human interaction. Of course, like a prophecy, you can’t avoid the inevitable forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind that tousled around Octavian felt like freedom, and he spread out his white ibis wings, soaring through the sky, while the light of Apollo gently warmed his skin. Octavian felt free, flying above the world — everything down below a spec to his eyes, and no one could reach him as he soared high above in the sky.

Well, Octavian should have known not to think in absolutes. No normal person could reach him, but well it’s not as if he was prepared for someone to literally crash into him as he flew in the cloudless sky.

One second Octavian was simply flying through the air, and the next he was hurtling towards the ground — someone screaming at him as they knocked him out of the sky.

Octavian’s heart thudded in his chest, panic beginning to take hold on in his veins, but then everything seemed to stop — the air seemed to solidify around him, and a silence took hold around the area. There was no wind, no nothing. Nothing but the labored breath of two individuals.

“Sorry, for flying into you. I didn’t expect there to be anyone else in the sky,” a voice, an all too familiar voice, spoke.

Octavian would never, could never forget that voice, even if the River Lethe took his memories, took everything that made him Octavian — his soul would recognize that voice. His little brother: Jason Grace.

Octavian spoke up trying to keep his voice from wavering as faced his little brother — facing those pure blue eyes, “It’s no problem. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here either.”

Then, his little brother smiled, pure and bright, and laughed, “Yeah, my boyfriend is never going to let me live this down. He said I needed to watch where I was flying, and I told him that there was literally nothing in the sky. Guess I was wrong.”

Boyfriend?! What, Jason is a baby — he’s only 16 why does he have a boyfriend?!

“Oh, sounds like your boyfriend cares a lot about you,” he better anyways, or Octavian will make sure that the body is never found.

Jason’s entire face lit up, an enormous grin on his lips and his eyes went fond as he spoke, “Yeah, Percy’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

“Perseus Jackson is your boyfriend?!” Octavian couldn’t help but shriek.

Jason's face instantly closed off, his body tensing, and he asked his tone growing harsher, “Who are you, and how do you know my boyfriend?”

“Anyone who knows a lick of the Greco-Roman Pantheon knows of Percy Jackson,” Octavian spoke, his voice wavering as Jason still glared at him with those blue eyes.

“That doesn’t answer my first question.” Jason said, his voice holding little emotion — the air seeming to tighten its hold around Octavian.

“It’s time,” Thoth’s voice echoes in Octavian’s head.

Octavian shutters, but he sighs in defeat. He knew that he couldn’t avoid this forever, but he thought, he thought he would have to to prepare for their reunion.

“Very well, but can we first land?” Octavian speaks up, and sees that Jason remains unwavering, and so he vows, “I swear on the River Styx that I mean you no harm and will tell you who I am once we land.”

An echoing boom instantly is heard, and Jason’s hold on the air snaps. The two fall through the air, and Octavian instinctively flaps his wings, but Jason is still falling.

“Jason!” Octavian yells and speeds off to his little brother as he hurtles through the sky.

Octavian catches his little brother before he goes splat, and Octavian yells, his voice worried, “Why did you not use your powers?!”

Jason breathed in deeply, his voice a bit panicked, “I was trying, but I couldn’t focus!”

Octavian sighed in relief, as he could feel his little brother once again command the air, and separated from him, “I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Jason gives Octavian an indiscernible look, and nods his head, “Yeah, let’s just land, alright.”

Octavian agrees, and soon enough the two land in some park, the autumn tree leaves falling gently around the two.

“So you wanted to know who I was,” Octavian spoke up, calling off his avatar form, the beginning of recognition and shock beginning to seep into his little brother’s form, “Well, I’m Octavian Grace …” Neither of his parents deserved to be parents, but at least with his mother’s last name he shared it with his siblings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brother!” Jason cried, instantly slamming into the older’s body, wrapping him in a hug.

Octavian instinctively hugged back, his shock delaying his reaction — Jason knew, knew that they were brothers.

“How?” Octavian could only ask, still startled as Jason held him tightly crying on his shoulder. And oh how much Jason has grown to be able to reach his shoulder — he used to barely reach Octavian’s middle.

Jason looked up at Octavian, tears streaming down his face, and sobbed “T-thalia r-remebered y-you, and s-spoke at your f-funera-al.” Jason held onto Octavian tighter, as if he was going to drop dead any minute, “And then A-apollo t-told e-everyone h-how you s-saved us. How you s-sacrificed y-yourself.”

Octavian had no words, no words to describe the complete and utter shock he was in, so all he could do was gape and say, “What?”

Then, Jason gasped, “Thalia.” He grabbed Octavian’s hand, “You need to see her.”

Octavian felt completely overwhelmed, but at the same time he felt a smidgen of hope swell in his chest as Jason led him away. He was going to see his big sister again.

Apparently, Thalia and Jason must have been having a picnic, because there she was on a blanket surrounded by sandwiches and fruits laid out before her. Octavian ignored the other person — the aforementioned boyfriend that was sitting there as well.

She still looked so young, baby fat still clearly on her face, despite the fact that she’s 21, almost 22. She’s eternally 15, never able to grow up, to mature because she’s sworn an oath to Lady Diana.

“Who’s-,” Thalia muttered as she turned to look at Octavian being dragged by Jason, but then her eyes went wide with recognition.

Her eyes were alight, like lightning striking through a storm, as she hurtled herself at Octavian.

“Tavi!” She called out trapping Octavian in a tight embrace.

Octavian held his sister closely, the nickname making him reminisce when his big sister thought Octavian was an old man's name, and he needed a name fit for being her little brother. A time before his father took him away from her.

“You’re alive!” Thalia cried, relief awash in her face. “I never thought I’d see you again Tavi.”

“I’m here.” Octavian murmured and looked over to meet Jason’s eyes, and beckoned him over.

Jason didn’t hesitate and was embraced by his two older siblings, his face held in the crook of Octavian’s neck, as the middle sibling bent down to hold the two.

Everything felt right and whole again. His family was alive and well!

Of course, Octavian had to eventually address the elephant in the room.

“So…” Octavian began awkwardly as his siblings pulled back a bit, but never far away enough to not hold onto him — the memories of his death still too fresh, “Perseus Jackson, my little brother’s boyfriend?”

Jason's face went bright red, and he averted his eyes to look at Percy.

Percy hesitantly approached the trio of siblings, standing nearer Jason, and eloquently greeted, “Hello.”

Thalia's face palmed, and spoke, “This is little brother 2.0, also known as our future brother-in-law.”

Percy and Jason both sputtered but didn’t exactly refute her statement.

Octavian just simply observed, a small smirk growing on his face, “Well, nice to meet you brother-in-law.” It feels good to tease his younger brother, after sixteen years, and finally Octavian is free to just interact with him — to finally place his family before duty.

Percy’s face went as red as a tomato, but he smiled and held Jason’s hand tight in his.

“Stop teasing us,” Jason whined, pouting a little bit like a sad puppy.

Percy nodded his head, giving a look that reminded Octavian of a seal pup. These two.

“It’s only our right to tease little brothers,” Thalia smirked, “Tavi got a lot of catching up to do, after all.”

“Indeed.” Octavian agreed.

The two teens whined no’s, but their huge smiles gave them away.

Octavian thought, ‘This must be Elysium.’

It wasn’t perfect, too many distrusted the hero people lauded him to be when he returned to see Camp, and those that shifted their stances gave Octavian whiplash. But Octavian never did what he did for glory or claimed to be a hero — he did it for them, not the world after all. Still, Octavian will take this little piece of Elysium that he’s been granted with his siblings, and make sure every breath they take will never be their last.

Notes:

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed my reading and the journey!

Through learning and re-reading about Octavian, he really is hated upon too much. Really, I view him as someone who doesn't like when other breaks the rules, as he views the rules are rigid, that they are there for a reason and meant to be upheld. Rick also describes everyone who meets him as instantly distrusting and not liking him, even as going as far as to say how is more effeminate traits are unappealing. Octavian was really just done dirty.

Anyways, Octavian's just a lil guy, who's also insanely tall, and as per my friend's head cannon, and is half-siblings with Thalia and Jason Grace. I honestly really love this, and my friend is such a good writer. I can't wait to read their Octavian fic!

First - Previous - Next PJO One-shot

[bluebird-writing]

Anything For You

Fandom: The Kane Chronicles - Rick Riordan

Rating: Teen and Up

No Archive Warnings Apply

Pairing: Thoth/Female OC

Summary: “Manon Fournier has been living with Thoth for a few months now, and she’s starting to realize she’s falling in love with him....”

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you're wondering what the hell is going on with Thoth and Anubis and want to read a shitload of Yugioh fanfic, please consider my WIP: The Power Of Friendship (And This Gun I Found!).

Updating sometime this summer, probably.

The Egyptian God Thoth admiring the ass of a man stuck in a hole in a wall.

More fan art for “The Power Of Friendship (And This Gun I Found)” because what else could something like this possibly be from?

This is the same man being discussed in this picture:

[ensign-smith]

me, showing my mom the (sfw version of the) kinktober halloween pic i'm working on: Check this out! It's fan art for a fanfic author I really like, this is Data and Lore dressed as the Egyptian gods Thoth and Horus

my mom: Data and who?

me: Lore, Data's twin brother.

my mom: oh that's right.

me: Anyways which option for Lore's outfit do you like better? The right or left version?

my mom: I like Data's outfit

me: I know, I'm happy with it. but what about Lore's? Which version?

my mom: Well I don't like Lore so I don't care about him

[schadenfredde]

The moment N'Doul's grip slackened, Hol took his chance. Twisting out of his grip, he grabbed him by his vest lapels, pushing him up against the wall. As Geb shot forward to impale the cowboy through the head, he leaned in, barely dodging the attack by inches as he pressed his lips firmly to his.

Just a scene from a fanfic I wrote a while ago. The imagery would not leave my mind. Basically it's the Thoth arc but it's N'Doul instead of Polnareff, and Thoth is a filthy shipper has a slightly different prediction.

Just slightly different.

Check out the fic here!

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Nebby!

@nebbychan You didn't have a prompt when I first asked -- and then Certain Life Events got in the way (my condolences again), and I thought it would be rather gauche to ask you for one. ^^; Fortunately I was able to come up with something on my own, based on your "MediEvil Resurrection II" fanfic -- here's Dan, Kiya, Professor Kift, and Winston having a moment to relax sometime after your latest chapter, discussing the rather painful thing that happened to poor Kiya during it... Enjoy!

--

“So...” Dan’s eye wandered down toward Kiya’s midsection, his brow bone perhaps not fully creasing in concern, but certainly doing a passable impression of such. “How’s the – um–”

“It’s all right,” Kiya assured him, laying a hand atop her blouse and feeling the scar beneath. “Madame JoJo sewed me up very well. It’s just still a little tender, is all.” She grimaced. “Given how that battle with Spring-Heeled Jack, or the Ripper, or whatever he was actually called, could have gone, I don’t think I can complain.”

“Yeah! We thought he’d managed to kill you all over again for a minute when he shoved those claws through your guts,” Winston said with a little shudder, before giving her a smirk. “Good thing getting someone through the stomach don’t count for much when they don’t have a stomach, eh?”

“Very good thing,” Kiya agreed with a little laugh. “I never thought I’d be grateful to be missing my internal organs, but – here we are.”

“Here we are,” Dan agreed, upper jaw flexing in a smile. “I’m just – so glad you’re okay. If he’d actually managed to somehow kill you, I – I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Kicked the blighter’s arse from here to Whitby?” Winston suggested.

“Well, yes, that for starters, but afterwards...” Dan drummed his fingers against his skull, clack-clack-clack (from his empty eye socket, Al protested, “hey, keep it down!”). “I wouldn’t have wanted to go on until I could think of a way to bring Kiya back.”

“Well, old Springy had a chalice on him – you could have just popped off to the Hall of Heroes to talk to your friends,” Winston pointed out. “Bet you one of them would have had an idea! They’re all the greatest heroes in the land, right? They’d have to!”

“In fact, given the way that Kiya would have, ah, passed on, perhaps she would have ended up there herself,” Professor Kift suggested.

“Now that would have been interesting,” Kiya said, smiling. “If rather disorienting...but at least we could have seen each other right away.” She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “I would like to see the Hall one day, if I can – your descriptions of it and the other heroes have been fascinating.”

Dan’s expression suggested that, if he’d had a single scrap of skin left clinging to his skull, it would have been bright pink. “Well, I – I guess I’ve always been good at telling stories,” he said, rubbing his head shyly. “Little too good, in fact...and if anyone deserves a place in the Hall, it’s you,” he added, teeth spread wide in a grin. “I don’t think we would have gotten nearly so far without your help.”

“Your magic has been an invaluable asset during our quest,” Kift agreed, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s amazing!” Winston nodded.

Kiya was sure she’d somehow managed to turn a darker shade of blue. “I’m glad you all think so – I’m just happy Thoth answered my initial call! The very world is at stake, after all.”

“Mmmm – you know what I might have done?” Dan suddenly said, snapping his fingers. “If Jack had gotten you? Gotten the Professor here to build me a time machine so I could go back and rescue you!”

Kiya blinked. “Do what now?”

“A time machine?” Kift added, wide behind his glasses.

“Well, you’re the one who comes up with all the inventions! And given you’ve got a caravan that collapses into a flat sort of carrying case–”

“A briefcase,” Kift supplied.

“Right, one of those – I bet you could make a time machine! And it would be for a very good cause! And since it involves going through time, we could come back mere moments after we left!” Dan declared, clapping his hands together. “Foolproof plan!”

“Yes, well...” Kift rubbed his own mechanical hands together. “Much as I appreciate your faith in me in this regard, I think the nature of cause and effect and the space-time continuum is a bit too risky to play with. Otherwise, I’d have already built the machine and tried to stop Palethorn that way.” His eyes slid to Winston, bobbing beside him. “Tried to stop something else, too.”

“Aww, Professor – it’s okay,” Winston assured him, patting his shoulder. “I don’t mind being a ghost, honest.”

“And I’m all right, so I don’t think we need to worry about building a machine to throw us all back into the past just quite yet,” Kiya said with a little smile. “Let’s see how we do against the next thing Palethorn throws at us first.”

[artyphex]

So have some lightning-fast sketched of human-form Sekhmet and Thoth

I really just wanted to get down an idea for human Sekhmet’s scar and face shape and try and draw an ibis for Thoth. None of this is final ESPECIALLY not Sekhmet’s hair. Especially that

I have to admit at this point “Imagining Egypt” has gone far past “what would the gods look like” and is just straight up a wholeass game in my head that will never exist. I casually designed a level today it’s gotten bad.

Because of that I wanna do more with it but don’t wanna write a fanfic and CERTAINLY can’t rely solely on god portraits to tell the story because those take two weeks to finish. So. This is my happy medium. Quick doodle pages with some notes. I imagine this is the lowest level of these little “extras” and the highest level might be a quick comic. Point is faster than full-painted portraits

I had fun doing this and there will probably be more. I wanna include Atreus and Angrboda in them but drawing Atreus still terrifies me because I’ve fucked up his face both times I’ve tried

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Got tagged by @miliabyntite

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

I'm editing right now, so I have lot of sentences that are older that I just tweaked today or re-read, but I think this is the newest whole sentence from this morning.

It only mattered if the soldiers stopped them.

Tagging @user-needs-new-hyperfixation @quill-of-thoth @ashcadence @hergan416 @gabapple @deityofgaycrimes @rainsonata @loichte

[sistersorrow]

Due to nearly daily power outages and dropping out of college, I've had a lot more free time this year, so I decided I'd read more this year, and here's a list of the things I read either partly or to completion (I'm including ttrpg sourcebooks, comics, and fanfics cause I feel like it)

Jerusalem by Alan Moore

The Fifth Science by Exurb1a

Horus Rising by Dan Abnett

False Gods by Graham McNeill

Galaxy in Flames by Ben Counter

Flight of the Eisenstein by James Swallow

Descent of Angels by Mitchel Scanlon

The Men Who Stare at Goats by Jon Ronson

The Psychopath Test by Jon Ronson

Lost at Sea by Jon Ronson

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C Yee

The Shadow of Kyoshi by F.C Yee

The Dawn of Yangchen by F.C Yee

The Legacy of Yangchn by F.C Yee

A Study in Emerald by Neil Gaiman

Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman

Dreadnought by April Daniels

Sovereign by April Daniels

The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean

The Corpus Hermeticum

RWBY: Scars by Doneesses

The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien

The Prague Cemetery by Eco Umber

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh

The Bible Repairman by Tim Powers

Soonish: Ten Emerging Technologies That'll Improve and/or Ruin Everything by Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

The Gods of Pegana by Lord Dunsany

Time and the Gods by Lord Dunsany

Welcome to the NHK by Tasuhiko Takimoto

What If? by Randall Munroe

TTRPGs I read books for:

Eclipse Phase

Exalted (2e and 3e)

Lancer

Nobilis (2e and 3e)

Numenera

Ponyfinder

Unknown Armies (1e, 2e, and 3e)

World of Darkness (Old and Chronicles)

Continuum, Roleplaying in the Yet

Broken Worlds

Comics and Manga I read this year:

A Study Emerald by Rafael Scavone, Rafael Albuquerque, and Dave Stewart

Alters by Paul Jenkins and Leila Leiz

All the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra comics

Black Hole by Charles Burns

Giant Days by John Allison, Lissa Treiman, Max Sarin, and Julia Madrigal

The Unbelievable Gwenpool by Christopher Hastings, Gurihiru, Danilo Beyruth, Iren Strychalski, Myisha Haynes, and Alti Firmansyah

Gwenpool Strikes Back by Leah Williams and David Baldeon

I Hate Fairyland by Skottie Young

Irredeemable by Mark Waid, Peter Krause, Diego Barreto, and Eduardo Barreto

Jem and the Holograms by Kelly Thompson, Sophie Campbell, Emma Vieceli, and Corin Howell

Judas by Jeff Loveness and Jakub Rebelka

Kill 6 Billion Demons by Tom Bloom

Monstress by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples

The Woods by James Tynion V and Michael Dialynas

The Wicked + The Divine by Kieron Gillen and Jaime McKelvie

Batman: Whatever Happened to the Craped Crusader by Neil Gaiman and Andy Kubert

Cheer Up! Love and Pompoms by Crystal Fraiser and Val Wise

Okko by Hub

Chainsaw Man by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Goodbye, Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Inside Mari Shuzo Oshimi

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Aftercare - a Malevolent Fanfic

Arthur wakes up.

Nothing goes quite as expected.

Though... it's obvious Hastur (again) has a plan. He REALLY needs to stop doing that.

(Takes place in the Surrogate series, after Consecrated)

AO3

---------

The whole palace is abuzz.

Did you hear—

Shouted… Jaws?

I heard it was Bon. Like, French.

French? Why would he shout in French?

The kitchens are muttering.

A double mark? You heard that wrong.

No, my duchess was there. She saw it. Two marks.

Two? Can you get close enough to see?

Ha! Like I have a death-wish.

The training grounds are talking about it, too, and that’s where Faroe picks up a few inappropriate things.

#

She doesn’t wanna be up this early, delaying breakfast and time with her daddy. Dawn is not her favorite time. Her pouts, however, leave no impression, and daddy says she must.

You will be queen of all someday, he tells her, which sounds like a nice thing, if vague. You must know how to do more than you do now. Magic, arms, debate, intrigue… you will master them all.

She sort of understood what all of that meant?

It had sounded a lot more exciting than being up super early, wearing weird, new clothes made of leather and linen, and holding a bow that wasn’t a harp, but sort of felt like one, except it shot sticks instead of making music.

She much preferred the harp.

It’s so hard to pull back!

It’s so hard to keep the arrow from just… twisting out to the right and away from the string!

It’s so hard to aim!

Faroe is not used to anything being difficult for her to do, and her frustration in the first fifteen minutes leads to a truly rare event: she has a tiny meltdown.

Hastur studied human development and knows children do that, so his instructions were clear: when she tantrums, let her have her cry, and pay her no attention at all. Do not reward the bad behavior. Do not give her what she wants. Let her get it out of her system, then simply resume as though nothing at all occurred.

Well, it works. Zero reaction is not the response Faroe was looking for, and she ends up with hitching breaths, curled against Nibbles’ side in the grass, still calming down while the grownups talk some feet away.

“I still don’t understand,” one of them (the spear-guy, who seems to have no purpose here as she cannot yet lift a spear) says. “Why would he mark the guy he hates?”

“Right?” says her archery instructor (whom, Faroe admits, she likes). “Nobody seems to get it. The ceremony was full of mixed signals.”

Spear-guy sighs and runs his hand through his brown hair. “This place just keeps getting weirder. I dunno. Maybe we should take that offer. Go to Teloth, after all.”

The archer makes such a face that Faroe almost flips out of her misery to giggle, but she doesn’t, and so the archer keeps talking. “Why the hell would you want to go to that place?”

“Safer. I don’t like this, Dis.”

The archer, Dis, shrugs expansively. “We’re not safe anywhere. At least here, it’s interesting; there’s beauty. Banger music. Good food. Friends. Allies.”

Spear-guy counts off on his fingers. “Weird intrigue. An unreliable god who fucks off for ten years at a go. Some kind of… fucked-up bondage situation, or something, with a human? I don’t know. It feels unstable.”

“Go if you want. I like her. I want to see her grow.” Dis indicates Faroe with a nod of her head.

“Yeah, that’s a whole other kettle of worms.”

“Stick around, Thoth. Just a little longer. It’ll all work out.”

Spear-guy Thoth rolls his eyes. “That’s why they gave you the kid to teach. Optimism doesn’t work past the age of ten.”

She laughs, punches his shoulder, and goes to check on Faroe.

Her hitching has mostly stopped now. She peers up from the circle of Nibbles’ legs, a limpid-eyed innocent cradled by horror.

“Are you ready to continue the lesson, Your Highness?” says Dis.

“Okay,” Faroe says, who doesn’t want to, but does want to make her daddy proud (and is just a little embarrassed at the tantrum she threw).

She doesn’t see uncle Arthur anywhere, not today. Daddy says he’s resting.

She doesn’t see him tomorrow, either.

Funny how people keep talking about him, though.

#

Two days later, Arthur wakes up and takes a moment to see if he’s still himself.

He’d been half sure he’d wake up some kind of drone, mind broken, erased, or… slavishly devoted to Hastur, now, or… something. Something awful.

None of that seemed to have happened.

He feels like himself? Then again, would he know?

“I want Hastur to go to hell,” he says, which he’s pretty sure he couldn’t do if he’d been lobotomized, and exhales in relief.

Only if I get to watch, says John, and paws along his face. It’s a slightly clumsy motion. Welcome back.

“Hey.” Arthur catches John’s wrist and pulls his hand away. His heart pounds, but it seems to still be his own. “I… I’m all right? We did it?”

You are. We did. What do you remember? John sounds the opposite of the way he had before it happened. Happy. Tension-free.

Arthur exhales. “I don’t even know where to start. You were there, though, somehow.”

I sure as fuck was.

John sounds like the cat that got the cream.

Wincing, Arthur sits up. He’s in bed; judging by the scents, he’s been bathed. Someone actually tucked him in. Weird. He feels sore through his chest, physically aching around his heart, but that makes sense. “Are you all right?”

More than. I’m still a little loopy, actually.

“Loopy?”

Magic-drunk. You missed me drunk, Arthur. It’s a shame. I doubt it’ll happen again any time soon.

Arthur is surprised into a small, brief laugh. “You got drunk?”

It was glorious, Arthur. If I knew how to do it on command, I would.

“So that’s what happens when somebody occupied gets marked, I guess.” He’s speaking lightly, but he feels…

He never wants to feel like that again. It was too much. Just… too much. Arthur scratches his scalp vigorously, trying to wake up. “What happened after… after he did it?”

After we did it. He washed the blood off you and put you to bed.

Arthur swallows. “So you… you did do it, too, somehow.”

Yes. You remember?

“Bits and pieces. Not a lot.” Too much. “I don’t… really want to feel that way again.”

John sounds sad. Right. Of course.

“I was afraid it would… do something to me.”

It did. John is less blithe about this. He… we both… have sway over you, if we wish. And we know how you feel, now, if we want to.

So he had even less privacy than he’d had before. Arthur sighs. “Terrific. Can I know what you’re thinking?”

No. This is very much a one-way spell.

Arthur sighs again. “Well, I hope he knows I hate him, then.” He slides out of bed.

The bottom of his feet hurt. He’s discovered that how much they hurt tends to tie directly to how long he was horizontal. “So you really both marked me.”

Yes.

Goodness, that was aggressive. “I thought you said there couldn’t be more than one mark.”

There can’t. Neither of us can explain it. I think, maybe, it’s because we’re… both the King in Yellow.

John says that hesitantly. Afraid, perhaps, of Arthur’s response.

It’s not news. Arthur has neither censure nor reassurance to give right now; whatever else this did, it didn’t seem to have… repaired whatever’s wrong with him. “Does it make a difference?”

John sputters. Yes! To me! To us!

“All right.” The only thing he cares about is that it is over. Arthur heads to the bathroom. “Tell me what you were like when you were drunk.”

And John brightens right up. I think I was funny!

#

Left again. You keep drifting right today.

Seventy-three steps. Seventy-seven now, because he has to correct again. “Sorry.”

“Uncle Arthur!” And it isn’t the tiny flap of unshod feet this time, but a surprisingly heavy clop of tiny boots.

She’s coming from your right—brace yourself.

Faroe leaps into him full-bore, and Arthur barely manages to stay on his feet.

He doesn’t care.

He kneels and holds her, and knows he shouldn’t, but holds her, and it’s been days, and he laughs because she jumps a little in his arms and bonks his chin with her head.

“I’m learning arrows!” she proclaims.

She’s wearing… that’s clever, John says, grumpily. A simple sheath-dress, but over it is light leather armor—paneled, so it moves with her. She wears an arm-sheath, as well, very scraped… she’s been learning archery.

“Good for you,” says Arthur.

“What’s a catamite?” says Faroe, and Arthur forgets how to breathe.

#

After Arthur stops choking (and John stops yelling, which required an apology), Faroe is distracted enough that she’s forgotten her question.

Which is good, because Arthur’s head is spinning.

Breakfast is entirely Faroe talking about her new lessons. She’s gotten over her upset of the first day, mostly because she’s able to hit the target; now that she’s having success, it’s all a delight.

“You’re doing so well, my daughter,” says Hastur at him, but the volley misses because Arthur’s head still spins.

Catamite? Catamite? Had somebody—

Had he been—

In front of everybody—

No. No, this had nothing to do with him. It couldn’t have. John would have told him.

“And the spear guy said Teloth might be safe and he wanted to go, and then Captain Dis came back and taught me how to stand better, and—”

Hastur has… tensed slightly, says John, very quietly.

Arthur suspects “spear guy” won’t be teaching Faroe again.

Faroe has eaten all her spiced egg and half an orange. More than she usually does; she must have had quite a morning.

“It is time for your next lesson,” says Hastur.

“Already?”

She is looking at him with huge eyes; I think she’s figured out how to weaponize her cuteness, Arthur.

“Well, we knew that was coming,” Arthur murmurs back.

“But I wanna play with Nibbles,” she says, too used to their muttering to mind it.

“You can do that after your lessons,” Hastur says.

One of his tentacles brushes her face. It is… a gentle, affectionate touch, and she leans into it.

“You make me very proud,” Hastur says.

And somehow, Arthur knows that one wasn’t aimed at him.

Weird. He’s not sure how he knows. Maybe it was the tenderness in Hastur’s voice, or—

“Okay,” she says, because she really is a well-behaved girl, and hops down from her chair.

She’s so small, says John. She’s practically disappeared up to her eyes on the other side of the table. Ah—she’s smiling at you.

“Uncle Arthur?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will you come play with me later today?”

Everyone goes really damn still.

“I…” What’s safe? “I…” What won’t get him in trouble, or keep him away from her, or—

“I see no reason why not,” says Hastur, absolutely blowing Arthur’s mind.

Arthur turns toward him in shock.

“Yay!” says Faroe, and darts off at full speed, boots clacking quickly along the marble floor.

Arthur stares. Well. He faces. John is the one who stares.

All right, John says. What’s your fucking angle here?

“No angle, Piece. I merely… mean to be more attentive to my court composer’s needs. That is all.”

“Right.” Neither of them believe that.

“Did you sleep well?” says Hastur in warm and syrupy tones that cannot mean anything good.

Was he still being spoken to? “Me?” says Arthur.

“Yes, you. I ask because you feel… unwell.”

Arthur frowns. “I feel fine.” He turns back to his little bowl of garlicky, herbed yogurt and poached egg, and pokes at it with his spoon.

Hastur rumbles. It’s not quite a growl, but it isn’t good.

What are you up to? John snarls.

Hastur ignores that. “I do not appreciate lies, Arthur.”

Arthur stiffens. “I’m fine. I said I was fine.”

“You are not ‘fine.’”

Arthur sighs and rubs his forehead. What was this? What was he doing now? “Sure. Not fine. Whatever you say. I need to get to work on the jubilee.” He stands.

“Sit. Down.”

Arthur grips the back of his chair and does not move.

John inhales. Arthur, you would defy him? He sounds like Christmas came early.

“I see,” says Hastur. “This is your… normal, is what you’re poorly communicating. This is how you feel every day.”

“Yes.” Arthur does not want to sit back down, but he doesn’t dare walk away, either.

“I see. Well: you are correct—you do owe a jubilee.”

“I owe three.”

Hastur’s rumble is so pleased. “You kept track.”

“Of course I kept track. It’s my fucking job. Can I go?”

Oh, Arthur, says John as though Arthur were doing something amazing. (Which is damned confusing, because he’s fairly sure he’s not.)

“Piece.”

What?

And Hastur switches into R’Lyehian. “Mgleth? fahf ah ahf' ymg' gotha?”

Mgleth!

So this was going to be that kind of conversation. Arthur sighs, gives in, and sits back down to poke at his Turkish eggs.

Hastur repeats and continues. [“Truth? This is who you want? This… weak, pitiful creature? I know you feel his mortality. We aren’t even discussing the flaws of his personality now.”]

John growls. [You damn well know the answer is yes.]

[“Have you considered,”] Hastur says without warning, [“that you still get to keep him if you come home to me?”]

John isn’t prepared for that. He chokes. [What?]

“You okay?” Arthur murmurs.

Fine. Shut up.

Arthur rolls his eyes, but does.

[“This whole time, John, you’ve been offered a choice—him or me. I understand. It’s a terrible position. I see now you will never give him up. I didn’t truly grasp your passion for him until… well. The other night.”]

Hastur makes it sound absolutely illicit.

[What’s your damn point?] John snarls.

[“That things have changed, John. You can have both.”]

John makes a choked sound, worse this time.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Arthur murmurs around another bite of egg.

[That’s not… that’s not true,] says John, stumbling over the consonants.

[“Isn’t it? He is here, cared for, through no choice of my own—and that would not change if you came home. Come back, John. End this. And we will still keep him. He stays as he is. Perhaps even… better cared for, as you and I would be working together for his well-being, for once.”]

Silence.

[“It’s not as though you can handle his needs as you are, and I don’t really want to—but together…”]

Arthur. Get up. We’re leaving.

“Must’ve been a hell of a secret loud conversation,” Arthur mutters, standing.

“Think about it, Piece. That’s all I’m saying,” says Hastur.

John wants to do it. Oh, gods, he wants to do it. He’s panicking because he wants to do it. Move. Go. Now.

“All right, shit. Moving.” Arthur heads toward the door as best he can.

Left! Damn it. More left.

“C' ahor h' goka mgn'ghftephai,” Hastur says after them, calm, content, condescending.

John hisses.

“What the hell did he say now?”

We could give him sight.

Nothing. He’s being an ass. He’s pissy he has to share you.

Arthur scoffs. “Has to? You’d think he’d be grateful he doesn’t have to… I don’t know. Bother with me all by himself, or whatever this is.”

We could give him sight.

It’s more complicated than that.

“What else did he say? He said a lot, John.”

John is quiet a moment too long. I don’t want to talk about it.

Arthur frowns. So it really was that kind of conversation. He doesn’t have the emotional energy to push. “Fine.”

Left. You keep drifting today.

“Sorry,” Arthur murmurs.

Oh… to be whole.

And to have Arthur.

John wouldn’t do it, of course. Of course. He’d never. But damn Hastur for saying it.

Damn Hastur for planting the idea.

Damn Hastur for offering something that John wants to believe could… work.

Maybe.

You could have both.

No, I couldn’t, he tells himself, and No, I couldn’t, he reminds himself, and No, I couldn’t, he writes on his heart and repeats in his soul and chants to himself as Arthur works through the next part of the jubilee, playing parts on the piano which are magically transcribed to paper for the instrumentalists he never sees.

You could have both.

No, I couldn’t, John tells himself, because he can never be whole, and fights very hard not to cry.

[gnomer-denois]

@evelynstarshine tagged me so here we go.

Three ships: NurseyDex (omgcp), PolyFrogs (omgcp), PolyFarms (omgcp). if this is cheating then let's substitute in Sam/Nick (Dice Punks), Ramnet/Dask (Dice Punks), Lyssa/Kaya (Dice Punks). If you're going to force me to pick from yet a third source even though those are all actually comprised of different characters (and Sam/Nick isn't even from the same story as the others), then David/Patrick (Shitts Creek)

First Ever Ship: Gambit/Rogue

Last song: Mr Darkside

Last Movie: Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves.

Currently reading: My own fanfic that I'm writing I guess? I don't have any published books that I'm currently reading. The last that I finished was Strictly No Heroics (highly recommend, check it out)

Currently watching: Cal Kestis fall into space repeatedly because I can't manage this Force Tear in Jedi: Survivor.

Currently consuming: Dr. Pepper

Currently craving: Sleep

I'm going to tag @happinessisntfun @bonesofyarn @quill-of-thoth @draskireis @vanillivilovesreus anyone who actually wants to do it (and if none of y'all do, that's chill)

[bluebird-writing]

Fanfic Masterpost

Star Trek

Wedding Attire - VOY, Janeway/Chakotay

Red Hills and Bones - DS9

Everyone’s Favorite Everything Bagel- PRO, Dal & Gwyn

Regrets - PRO, Janeway/Chakotay, Zero & Janeway

Frosty Affairs - OC-centric

I Hate It - LWD, Tendi/Rutherford

I’m Glad Whenever I Can Share Her Laughter - DS9, Garashir kid fic

Weirdness - LWD, Boimler/Mariner

Hiveswap

Dying is for Normies - Kuprum & Folykl

Fade to Black - Folykl-centric

Doublethink - Kuprum-centric

Hetalia

Ties of Blood and Water - Liechtenstein & Austria

Those Who I Cherish - Liechtenstein-centric

A Taste of the Truth - Liechtenstein & Austria

The Kane Chronicles

Anything For You - Thoth/OC

Ashes - OC-centric

SPY x Family

Operation Comic Book - Anya & Loid

Corn Maze - Anya & Bond, the Forger family

Cinderella Moment - Damian/Anya, Anya & Becky, the Forger family

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Kyoshi and Her Friend - Aang-centric, Kyoshi/Rangi

Avatar: Legend of Korra

Midnight Snack - Korra & Tenzin

Penguin Sledding - Korra & Katara

Cells At Work

Falling - AE3803/U-1146

Encanto

Ghosts - Mirabel & Camilo

The Hunger Games

Unto the Labyrinth - OC-centric [ONGOING]

Crossovers

A Chance Meeting - Frankenstein/Original Work, Frankenstein’s Monster & OC

A Burning Question - Encanto/Hercules, Luisa & Hercules

Redacted - Hetalia/DS9

Reserved - Hetalia/DS9

The Town of Anywhere - Multifandom crossover [ONGOING]

[therivergirl]

'Too Many Thots' XD

This relates to that fanfic ask from a few days ago and you're definitely right.

I am "Too many thoths" type of writer.

I am talkative. (Unless I feel awkward). But ask me about something I like-and fanfic is one of those things-and you'll get me going.

If I wrote down every HC for every character from my former and current main fandoms (DT and TOH respectively) I could probably feel a college textbook or two.

As for WIPs...oh my.

I know you're not into TOH but that's the frame of reference I can go off at this moment so, things I have right now: one long-ass fic, two fluffy Raeda fics, two gen fics focused on the other characters, at least three NSFW fics in the works and one crackfic that might or might not get written. And these are just the ones I have an outline for!

I do need ibuprofen. I have sinusitis!

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Genuinely and without irony, @quill-of-thoth and I do this for fun and games. We also like to throw fanfic tropes at each other to discuss how our OCs would function in that trope.

It's surprisingly useful for writing, but mostly it's just fun.

esoteric form of roleplay where instead of actually roleplaying you just make up characters together and discuss in abstract how they'd interact and how their story would go

[softwebss]

Hello! I saw you write for tkc and I wanted to ask if you could write thoth, sett, amos and khonsu relationshipp headcannons? (Gender neutral).

Thank you! Have a nice day

···

ofc! this ones for ya! have fun reading <3 i dunno much abt other gods to I had to stick with thoth if that's okay with you! PAIRING – gender neutral ! reader x thoth SUMMARY – what dating him would be like GENRE – fluffffffufufuuf & a bit of agnst at the start WARNINGS – none <;;3 NOTES – for you hun!

(( 📔 )) DATING THOTH PLAYLIST 👞

I recommend listening to this playlist as you read !

treehouse by kelseydog we made it by david hugo parking lot view by almost monday the book lovers by broadcast silent love by james bay looking out for you by joy again hey lover by wabie

if you tell him if you like a book that's part of a series, the next day you'll see the whole series laying on your table

"thoth, did you buy this?" "PFFFT- ME? OF COURSE NOT! WHY ON EARTH-" "there is a note here saying 'to the god thoth'" "There's a LOT of thoths out there you know"

forehead kisses. periodt.

hugs from the back??? yes please

you stealing his lab coats

"hey did you see my coa- OH MY GOD YOU LOOK SO CUTE IN THAT"

his whole library is dark acedemia

heck, his whole aesthetic is dark acedemia

you'll tell him to wear something else other than brown, beige or off-white

BUT HE DOESNT

HIS WHOLE CLOSET IS JUST THESE COLORS

you bough him a pale blue sweater

he dyed it brown??? BRO WHY

joking & kidding around at booking reading sessions

reading slowly turns into kissing

then a heated makeout session

khonsu is in the background praying to ra that you guys will stop eating each others faces so he can read some astrological shiz

"p-please thoth, y/n, can you guys PUH-LEASE make out somewhere that's not the ASTROLOGICAL section because i want to know my star sign"

thoth be angwy when some1 flirts with you

heck who wouldn't flirt with someone as attractive as you as they rent a library book

you'd be working in his library in the university of Memphis as a library cuz he chills at that place as a history & chemistry teach

all the students know you guys r dating even BEFORE you guys started dating

"MS. L/N HAVE YOU KISSED THOTH YET" "holy FUCK NO"

that made yall start dating

the students = serious shippers

carter & sadie visit you guys

parental figure next to amos tbh

thoth giving them riddles

cuddles with thoth r >>>>>>

he loves you a lot and tells you all the time

stereotypical married couple bickers

but yk

yall make out in the end as apologies

[lisartino]

It's finally here!

After 3/4 on it, here's the very first fanfic I personally did, based on the VoidOverlord!AU. As usual, you have both the A03 version and a Tumblr one! No Angst: Just cute humor with the Voidseers panicking over a dwarf planet. Enjoy!

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Language: English

---

Today on the INSS also known as King Phantom’s castle, a special event is happening: It’s the king’s 300th deathday anniversary and it’s not uncommon to extend the celebration in two days. The first one is the death itself and Phantom remains in his castle as walking around after a sudden severe case of electrocution is not ideal.

Then, the second day arrives and most of his friends and allies bring him gifts to celebrate the second “birthday” of a revenant. This year, Frostbite sculpted him a frozen miniature of Amity Park. Pandora offered him clothing ornate in Persephore’s image. Doretha gave him a silver armor made from the scales of an Ice ghost dragon and Wulf gifted him with a star-themed necklace with runes on it.

Now, it was the Royal Astronomy club’s turn to give Phantom a gift. The club is entirely run by Voidseers, the latest kingborne race of ghosts to exist: They are pure black specters with endless eyes shapes shrouded in white and dark purple robes with a long, conical cowl similar to a cultist. With their arms always crossed and their “hands” hidden in their sleeves most of the time, they study every aspect of the Cosmos and essentially please Phantom’s secondary obsession.

A four, goat, blue-eyed voidseer floats its way through the violet, futuristic corridor filled with mint green luminescent lights towards a triangle-shaped, black door and knocks three times with their amber crystal insectoid hand. After a few seconds, steam pours out of the small vents upwards and the door opens itself to them. The cyan ornate voidseer then goes through the door and reaches an entire black office with only tiny colored lights ranging from green, yellow, blue, and purple to see. At the center, there is an octagonal-shaped, dark blue table with two crystal lamps on the center.

It is on this table that four greater Voidseers are speaking about something the goat-eyed specter probably caught midway through. Probably either about the Cosmos or his Etherealness’ deathday, they thought. Regardless, they came towards the Quatuor:

“Great Hasturs: the Orrery is finally complete. Would you like to see it before giving it to His Etherealness?" the amber goat-eyed voidseer inquired with a bit of stress in their raspy, cackling, voice.

The Hasturs as they’re called are the greater Voidseers that run the Royal Astronomy club. They’re easily recognized by their long, two parts garments covering their branched robes with a simplified image of their wing and a black triangle in a colored circle, two shoulder pads that vary depending of whom, armbands, and a little cosmetic around their elongated cowl. Each one of them bears one of the four colors seen in the meeting office: Green are the one from the Biology wings, studying Life on other planets and how Evolution goes. Blue ones are the club’s mechanics who build machines and spaceships. Purple ones are the Astronomers and form the bulk of the club as they study Space itself. Lastly, the Yellow ones study the exoplanets’ civilizations and serve as the ones dealing with paperwork.

One of the Hastur, a yellow luminescent one with three slit-looking slots eyes turns their head around the smaller voidseer and nodded their presence:

“Oh yeah. We’re coming!" replied the lilting, joyful yellow Hastur as they waved.

“The Orrery is in the club’s hub center, Hastur Thoth." advised the smaller voidseer before leaving the shadowy office.

Thoth is the yellow Hastur who leads the Diplomatic wing and replied to the goat-eyed one. They have golden, curved shoulder pads with ethereal shoulder tassels, their two-part garment motif being two different skeletons interacting above arrows and two flat magic “horns” floating around their cowl with three small motifs engraved in them: a hand, a parchment, and a bird. The “horned” Hastur is the first to leave the meeting room, followed by their peers:

“We should get going. His Etherealness should be back from his trip to the Far Frozen by now.” Thoth said while levitating above the ground, taking some of the paperwork and retracting their golden-tipped black tentacles limbs into the robe’s sleeves before exiting the meeting room.

“Naturally...although Frostbite tends to keep him a tad longer as the Yetis are devoted to him like we are.” nodded the crouched green ornate Hastur as they followed right behind Thoth.

“They sculpted the entire necropolis of Amity Park last time I’ve checked" noted the blue Hastur with a semi-muffled robotic voice as they snapped the right blue claws serving as hands.

“When did you hear that Curio?" asked the purple Hastur with arms crossed and their mantis limbs visible while fixing the hammer-wielding voidseer.

“Some of my engineers overheard the yetis speaking about it before Frostbite came back with the Void Overlord, Hastur Onion." taunted Curio, their three eyes shifting from neutral to a smug expression.

“You ghastly toaster! My name is Orion and you know it!” roared the mantis-limbed Hastur with their face now entirely covered by pure black tendrils flailing out.

“Calm your tendrils or Nyx will pluck them all out with her beak from both of you!" The green Hastur stopped by not only putting themselves between the two but through her pet owl Nyx screeching.

“Ok, Veles! I’ll stop there, excused Curio, shrugging with their claws while keeping their hammer.”

“Sorry for caring myself" confessed Orion, retracting the mantis limbs and putting them back in his robe sleeves.

Veles is the green Hastur behind the Biology wing with a sole, green, sewed eye. Always crouched and holding a wooden staff with a reddish-black skull and bioluminescent mushroom on it when not levitating, they wear wooden garments, fungus shoulder pads and her two-part motifs is a planet with each step of Life’s evolution on it. Her cowl has a darker patch of gray cloth sewed into it and extends into a ragged cape. A ghost owl with a big black eye and two sewed other eyes bearing black and white feathers whom they called Nyx perches on the mushroom shoulder pads.

“You act like our lord when he’s called Inviso Bill…”, remarked Veles to Orion as they cherish Nyx to calm her down.

Orion is the purple Hastur from the Astronomers and often acts as the Club’s leader due to their knowledge of Space but also to their proficiency at Magic. They bear reddish-purple shoulder pads with mini dormant black holes on each, a copper mask with purple neons on each side, a simplified cosmos on their two parts outer garments, a neon purple circle with the signature black triangle, and an Omega-shaped, dark red crown with four spikes floating at the center of their cowl.

“Anyway, how’s the orrery Curio?”, The golden-eyed Hastur asked Curio about.

“The main system is working perfectly and we checked everything. Judging by your amber worker coming to us, they probably finished bringing the orrery to the hub.” The semi-mechanical Hastur nodded.

Curio is the blue Hastur and the Black-smith of the Mechanic wing. They have three parts shoulder pads on each side with a part of a cog on the right, a rocketship motif on the two parts outer garment, and a metallic claw as their left hand. They’re the only ones with a small cowl that has been cut through to let the back of their head free (which is another cog part). Curio speaks with a gas mask attached to their back and wields a black mechanical hammer with the blunt part somehow similar to the king’s symbol.

The elder ghost cultists fly their way through Cosmovalley: a part of Phantom’s castle entirely dedicated to the Royal Astronomy Club found on the castle’s left and into the hub. Their arrival is welcomed by the dozens of Voidseers, all-around one of the greatest gifts they ever did to Danny:

“Welcome back, Great Mecanicus Hastur. The orrery is now ready!” greeted a five, blue-eyed, Voidseer who welcomes them.

“Time to show this bad boy to him!” spoke Curio with a confident, robotic tone mostly done through the voice module from his gas mask.

Curio lifts their metallic, left claw and clashes each side thrice before they lower it back to hold the signature weapon. Four blue Voidseers take a bit from an enormous sheet and fly upwards to reveal the orrery: A marvel in astronomy meant for studying Gravity around galaxies:

The orrery is a cylindrical dark purple table as large as a room with luminescent wires, iron cogs, and air vents on each side. They’re all hidden by an outer, curving, armored black box with neon motifs able to take on all colors of the Cosmos. Although massive, they serve to house the machinery to make what’s above the table work: A Lavanda force field as big as a literal house held in constant levitation all of the Solar System. This slightly visible sphere of cosmos does not only holds them but makes them move on their own as if gravitating around the miniature of the Sun. Each planet looks like a perfect reproduction of the real ones and depending on which you’re looking at, you can notice their moons orbiting.

The Royal Astronomy Club awed in unison the moment their sight landed on the machine and stayed silent to let both Magic and Tech speak through the orrery. Some flew for a bit to inspect the planets and others poked the force field with their limb to feel the nebulae before retracting but all were impressed by the results of days of efforts.

That is until one purple Voidseer with bird talons as hands and a sole cross pupil as its eye broke the silence:

“Where’s Pluto?, noted the voidseer from the Astronomy wing, puzzled by what he found out.”

“Didn’t Pluto get booted out of the Solar System because of its orbit’s path?” replied a yellow one with eight small arachnid eyes.

“Nay: it’s still part of it but as a dwarf planet as it’s dwelling around Kuiper’s belt near Neptune.” corrected a blue one with tendrils holding a wrench.

The Hastur are too puzzled by this discovery and after a quick nod, Thoth insert themselves into the conversation while the three others fly toward the orrery to find the dwarf planet:

“Where are you going with this?” Thoth asked the talon-handed voidseer, concerned by their question, wrapping its upper left tentacle around the robe’s collar.

“I heard his Etherealness speaking about planets with Orion and he insisted on Pluto being his favorite. My point is simple: If the King notices Pluto is not on an orrery of the Solar System meant as his birthday gift, we’re so fucked we might just hide in that sarcophagus with Pariah Dark just to avoid being fucking disintegrated.”

And silence came back but not for a good reason. Even if the voidseers didn’t properly hear what the talon voidseer said, it was enough to send a chill down each of the ghost astronomers’ spines if they even had one in the first place. The others Hastur also heard it and inspect every bit of the force field and they too came to the same conclusion:

“HOLY QUASAR! I knew it: I forgot about Danny’s request about Pluto!” Orion screamed into the club’s hub, hiding their face with four tendrils limbs.

“Wait, WHAT?! How did you manage to forget that?!” Veles inquired with an actual wide-open eye revealing a cat slit-looking pupil despite their eyes said to be shut and black tentacles flailing out of their head.

“That’s the thing: I have no fucking idea how I forgot that one dwarf planet!” Orion shrugged with a wide-open, twitching eye that almost peaks out of their face.

“Not like this, Orion! Not after what you have done!” Curio screeched with a voice so high it was fully saturated and corrupted by the voice module on its gas mask.

Thoth came back to the others and put themselves between Orion and Veles to avoid unnecessary dispute and slapped each one with their two tendrils like a whip:

“Can we stop screeching like space ghastly aberrations and think about a plan?” Thoth stopped with the whipping.

“What plan?” Curio asked with a much more audible voice, puzzled by the yellow

“Hold up, Thoth: What do you have in mind?” Veles asked with their right, two-fingered hand wrapped around a collar and Nyx the owl leaned her head on the left at roughly 90 degrees.

“We’re going to add Pluto to the Orrery” Thoth proudly tells, trying to raise the club’s morale at the best they could.

“You dense, golden Observant: We don’t have time for this!” Curio disagreed as their worries is amplified by the gas mask voice module shifting into a voice heard through talkie walkies.

“That’s why I will welcome Phantom and distract him from going into Cosmovalley until you three polished it!”

The Hasturs think about the plan and why they won’t deny this is a bit late for corrections, it’s still better than being mauled by an eldritch scream made of ectoplasm and dark matter for missing a dwarf planet:

“Ok but you better be good at what you’re doing.” Veles reminded Thoth with Nyx screeching as a warning of failure.

“Attention to all members of the club: We will begin operation DWARF EMERGENCY!”, Orion declared to all Voidseers within the hub of Cosmovalley as they flew above the orrery. “The Astronomers and the Biologists will work together to recreate Pluto. The Engineers will modify the orrery’s machinery to add Pluto onto the force field. The Diplomatic wing will backup the Engineers out while Hastur Thoth will keep his Etherealness away until we all finished up. Understood?”

After this quick declaration, none of the Voidseers had any questions whatsoever and Orion waved at all the crowd of ghost cultists, allowing them to begin the operation. The green and purple Voidseers went to a triangle portal with a violet nebula while the blue and yellow ones went to a cyan nebula to bring the tools needed for such endeavor. Thoth separated themselves from the rest, leaving the rest to Curio, Veles, and Orion. Nyx the ghost owl also followed Thoth but used Invisibility as Veles wanted to have a means of telling when they were getting close.

The green Voidseers are known to be excellent elemental masters and once Orion created six mini planet cores through cosmomancy to work with, a group of ten Astronomers and ten Biologists sculpt each one with everything they know about Pluto and its moons:

“Oy, Earth benders! Pass me the rocks so that we can fix it into the cores.” A purple one with meaty claws requested to the elemental bending biologists.

“Isn’t Pluto made of ice?” a green one with a filled hexagon as their pupil wondered.

“Nope: it’s covered by 20 km of dummy thick ice. The kind of ice you see at the Yetis’.” one of the elemental benders with clawed human hands kindly replied.

“Oh ok!” nodded the hexagon-eyed biologist.

For twenty minutes, the Biologists brought mostly rocks of many colors to fit each planet and once it’s done, they all gather to Pluto and backed up by Veles’ powers over Nature due to being space-nature cored, they create a coat of ice thick enough to hide the rocks.

Now, it’s the turn of the Astronomers to sync all of these mini planets into a viable orbit. They first create a small point serving as the orbit’s center between Pluto and Charon as the real gravity center is actually sandwiched by both Pluto and Charon:

“Did I put the gravity center at the right place”, pondered one purple voidseer with four small slit eyes while holding what looks like a quasi-invisible amount of space ectoplasm.

“Hmm...Maybe slightly to the left?”, advised another one with webbed paws.

"Like this?", wondered the four-eyed voidseer looking at his fellow co-workers.

"Scratch that. Come back to the right", corrected the webby astronomer.

After fifteen minutes of properly dealing with gravity (and finding the perfect place for the gravity’s center), the purple voidseers add the other moons into the orbit and make sure they not only orbit around the sandwich of dwarf planet and moon but also at the exact speed as they do in real life.

When Orion and Veles approved the planets and the orbit, both wings return to the hub where the Engineers are already working hard to create a spare place for Pluto around the mini Kuiper’s belt. Having finished up giving the tools to the blue Voidseers, they gathered around the other wings and used their powers to back up the combined powers of both the Biologists and the Astronomers to reduce their work into a proper miniature so that they can integrate into the orrery:

“Hey, you guys! Bring Pluto and its moons here: There’s a small spot with no meteorites that Curio made for it” noticed one Diplomat voidseer with long and thin, insectoid arms while pointing out the spot.

“Okidoki! Just go a bit on your right so that we can all pass” another yellow voidseers with mantis limbs and large googly eyes said while telling the others to come near the spot.

With luck thanks to Curio’s mastery over metal and electricity, the yellow voidseers gently landed the Pluto miniature they worked on, and with the rest of the club, they joined forces in keeping the force field stable. Curio and their engineers had to deactivate the orrery in order to modify it but this would mean the force field would disappear, hence the Diplomatic wing’s help by using their space magic to stabilize it until the Astronomers and Biologists came:

“Need a holosupport, here!”, one blue voidseer requested with a wrench held by clawed hands.

“Comin’ right up, amiko.” another voidseer Engineer with a circle as their eye's outline a small box with a blue hole in it that they give to his buddy.

“You never told me you spoke Esperanto”, noticed the claw-handed one.

“Oh yeah: One of the yellow guys taught me in my free time. That’s why they took me on one of our trips to Wulf’s tribes or something” revealed the dilated-eyed engineer.

“You lucky bastard.”, the wrench-wielding voidseer spoke with a tad of jealousy towards them.

As they’re almost done, a screech came closer until a pure spark ignited into the Hub, blinding a few Voidseers who were too close for a bit: it was Nyx who came back into one of Veles’ shoulder pads, still screeching:

“He’s coming!” Veles said after looking at their pet owl screaming to warn them.

“Holy Pulsar! We’re not gonna make it!” panicked Orion as their sole eye glares at the great door to Cosmovalley.

“Almost done! Prepare the EctoStabilizer Mecanicus!” Curio ordered to their engineers, still stressed by keeps its cool as the last polish is done.

When the machinery was fully done, Curio pushed a button that enveloped the force field in a thin, invisible coat of blue ectoplasm, stabilizing it until it was all good. When nothing happened for a minute, Orion prompted the club though lowering its tentacles to stop using Space magic. Everyone removed their powers, anxious to whether they either succeed or fail in adding Pluto: It looked fine but side effects can happen and they need a sharp eye to find them. They all wait…

...Until pressured steam was heard from the main hub’s door. The door opened to reveal not only the shape of Thoth but also one with a green glow on the back of its head. Once the steam finally left, they notice him:

Phantom was finally there: He wears his black and white jumpsuit filled with green neon he’s been known for, a silver-plated armor hiding his white boots, a cylindrical silver and white gauntlet covering his arms, and a black and green, a white garment coming fro his belt imitating a skeleton’s pelvis with a black badge and a white D at its center, and a five-parts nebula-themed cape linked to his white collar. He’s also noticeable thanks to his death-like white skin tone with some of his mouth muscle visible underneath the cheekbones due to extensive use of “screaming attacks” and those soft yet sharp blueish white hair ending in a long floating ponytail. He also bears a pure black ring on his left hand and a crown made from shards of black ice, ever levitating on his head within a mist of green nitrogen whose smoke always goes downwards, radiating with an aura as cold as to absolute zero.

His pure black eyes now look at what’s in front of him. The Voidseers are worried the orrery will collapse but much to their surprise, it just works as if Pluton wasn’t added at the last minute. Danny’s eyes widen and his mint green iris now glows like a nebula as his sight lands on the orrery. Thoth believed he had literal stars in his eyes at this moment when the King spoke to them:

“What is...this?”

“Well...we thought about something big for your 300th deathday so...we made this.”

Phantom couldn’t hide his smile: a genuine, wholesome one he never thought will when offered gifts about Space. While he was used to getting space-related gifts from the club, he never thought the Voidseers would go as far as creating a whole miniature of the Solar System for him to keep:

“Happy deathday, your Etherealness!” they all say to him in complete, joyful unison not only because it is the king’s birthday but also the orrery doesn’t malfunction at all.

The King from beyond the Stars flies towards the force field, filled with wonder and curiosity: He stares at each planet and their moons from the Sun to Kuiper’s belt. He accidentally phases his hand through the force field and felt cosmic winds flowing the same manner he can when using space powers:

“That’s so cool! It feels like water!”

“We filled the orrery with enough magic to make it look like we’re looking at the Cosmos” noted the purple Voidseer with talon hands as he was the closest to him

That’s when Danny noticed one thing catching his eyes: one frozen dwarf planet with five moons orbiting around it, hidden among Kuiper’s meteorites. He smiled and dashed near it as a blur, leaving a quick, subzero wind and those near it had to rub themselves from the cold wave. No doubt, he found Pluto and he was hyped for it!

At first, he only stared at like cats with their wide pupil only to poke the dwarf planet with his semi-clawed hands, almost holding it gently without disrupting the orbit:

“Aw, it’s so cute! Did you ask for some Yetis to do it?”, he asked even though he kept his sight on Pluto.

“Nope: we did it ourselves!”, remarked a green Voidseer with seven eyes forming an upside-down arrow.

“oh shit for real?” Danny realized with a nod of recognition at the Club.

The same Voidseer nodded upside down to assure him all was done by the club and only the club. Some purple Voidseers were afraid only to breathe when Phantom finally removed his hands from the dwarf planet.

The Hastur came back to him and they’re met with a king not only pleased with his gift but also proud of them. At this point, they could see him shed one or two tears falling into a tiny shard of ice he broke in his hands:

“Thanks, guys. That’s one of the best I’ve ever had.” the King cried with pure joy

“No problemo, amiko,” Thoth told him with the most genuine tone he ever had.

“Now, where do you want it to be?”, Veles asked him with that raspy granny tone as they leaned near him.

“Wait, isn’t the orrery a tad large,” asked a puzzled Phantom now that he found out about the orrery’s size since he focused on what’s inside it so far.

“Pfff! No big deal: we can reduce it and bring it anywhere”, Curio pointed while some of the Engineers widen their eyes with bewilderment.

“Sounds good to me.” Phantom nodded before he sent a triangle-shaped black portal below the orrery.

When the portal was formed, the Hastur held the orrery and went into the void portal with it. Before joining them, Danny waved one last time to the Voidseer and dived headfirst into it, sealing the portal behind him. The rest of the club stayed silent…

…

“HOLY FUCK! WE MADE IT!” shouted one Voidseer waving its tendrils to show their victory.