#ty orpheus <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[codename-adler]

sethaaron 🤲🤲 for my htsal musings i love how you've written them in ur socmed au

26.

Sethaaron for u Orpheus 🫶 i’ve been planning the crocs heist for sooo long you don’t even wanna know how much time i spent looking at stupid clogs

ily David

[inferencesarchives]

YALL...

yall...

yall... no... don't do this to me yet... not while im on hiatus and can't celebrate... yall... yall are so kind and supportive... i don't even think any fics i make could ever repay the kindness yall have shown me ever since i started this silly blog... yall... i love yall :,,,))) ...

[whateverthese2havetournament]

2024 Roster Announcement

Alright, let's get this show on the road.

You all gave me plenty to work with, and though time has passed, I haven't forgotten. I have utilized what I believe to be an unbiased system of sorting relevant entries to the top, and I have a list of 32 and 16 for both the "Men's Division" and "Women's Division".

The Men's Division, in no particular order:

Archie and Maxie, Pokemon

Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, Looney Tunes

Professor Pierre Aronnax and Captain Nemo, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Sicard and Emmanilain, Final Fantasy XIV

Alber Wesker and Chris Redfield, Resident Evil

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds

Suguru Geto and Satorou Gojo, Jujutsu Kaisen

Luffy and Zoro, One Piece

Kotetsu T. "Wild Tiger" Kaburagi and Barnaby "Bunny" Brooks Jr., Tiger and Bunny

Yoichi & Kudou, My Hero Academia

Elim Garak and Julian Bashir, Star Trek

Dale Cooper and Harry S. Truman, Twin Peaks

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha

Composer and Orpheus, Identity V

Eddie Brock and his Symbiote, Venom

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang, Link Click

Keith and Lance, Voltron

Optimus Prime and Megatron, Transformers

Newt Geiszler and Hermann Gottleib, Pacific Rim

Kim Dokja & Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader

Sam and Max

Officer Bailey and That Other Guard, Ghost Trick

Steven Stone and Wallace, Pokemon

Medic and Heavy, Team Fortress 2

Basil and Sunny, OMORI

Ike and Soren, Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Professor X and Magneto, X-Men

Mercutio and Benvolio, Shakespeare

Stanley and the Narrator, The Stanley Parable

Junkrat and Roadhog, Overwatch

Merlin and Arthur, Merlin

Jessie and James, Pokemon

And the Women's

Madoka Kaname and Akemi Homura, Madoka Magica

Azula, Mai and Ty Lee, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Alice 'Daisy' Tonner and Basira Hussain, The Magnus Archives

Sable Ward and Mikaela Reid, Dead by Daylight

Mina Harker née Murray and Lucy Westenra, Dracula

Xena and Gabrielle, Xena: Warrior Princess

Falin Touden and Marcille Donato, Delicious in Dungeon

Emma Swan and Regina Mills, Once Upon a Time

Ruby Rose and Penny Polendina, RWBY

Milly Thompson and Meryl Stryfe, Trigun

Daphne Blake and Velma Dinkley, Scooby Doo

Vriska Serket and Terezi Pyrope, Homestuck

Kimura Seiko and Andoh Ruruka, Danganronpa 3

Lucia and Elincia, Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Yuri and Natuski, Doki Doki Literature Club

Lyn and Florina, Fire Emblem the Blazing Blade

Wowie, what an all-star cast! Videogames, comics, movies, anime, cartoons, classic literature, and more.

So, I'm going to aim to get the ball rolling, let's say October 14th. I'll start with Men's Round 1, then the following week do Women's Round 1, and so on. I will post the actual brackets a bit closer to that date.

In the meantime! If anyone would like to submit any propaganda, images, complaints, objections, or what have you, the ask box will remain open. I know last time had a pretty rocky start, but I am wise for the experience, and I think this time 'round will be even better.

[fangirlanxiety74]

Hello self-shippers, mutuals, and those interested in helping me :3 To make a long story short, I'm trying to come up with a ship name for me and Ted 👉👈 I have a lot of ideas but no clue what to use. Was wondering if I could get some help?

I'm putting a poll up with what I have so far and will kinda explain the ship below it if you'd like some context. Ty for helping if you do!!! Anyway

Explanation:

Sooo to try and make a long story short, Ted and my self-insert, Sara, are pretty much two sides of the same coin. Both are paranoid, anxious, and delusional; they suffer the very same way, but their reactions to said suffering are very different.

While his is negatively charged (Talking about how he's the only sane one, how everyone hates him, they're all out to get him, always angry and upset, etc) she's positively charged (Unable to express anything other than happiness, even when being tortured, pretends everything is fine and dandy, believes they're all friends, etc). They understand each other in a way no one else can. It's hard, it's tragic, they are doomed from the very beginning, but they try to make it work anyway, in hopes that maybe one day it will.

If you can't tell from the ship name options, their relationship is very inspired by the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Sara is the Orpheus to Ted's Eurydice. She will always look back for him. He will always be doomed to hell for her. The story will never end differently. But it's told, over and over, in the hopes that one day it will.

If you've ever heard of the trope 'The Closed Wound and The Bleeding Heart,' that is also a huge inspiration for them. So yk :3

[capriclonus]

So obsessed with your fic and ty for giving your Tumblr 😋 PLS PLS GIVE ME TIPS ON WRITING THE CHARACTERS!!! I LOVE THE WAY YOU DO IT!! I am struggling rn with my story 😔😔 I aspire to be like you 😿

First off, WOW, someone coming to me for writing advice? That is an insane honour and a privilege! Honestly, I don't even know what to say, I don't consider myself an amazing writer (mostly I just consider myself one of the many pieces of trash worshipping at Shadowheart's feet) so its just fucking amazing that you want my input! Secondly, I'm sorry to hear you're struggling with writing! It can be so so difficult. I think we're all guilty of forcing ourselves to write sometimes when we can't--so make sure you take time to do other things that aren't reading/writing to clear your headspace (and also simply changing the colour of the word document helps a lot! Also the font).

In terms of writing characters, a lot of what I do is very subconscious so you'll have to excuse my somewhat word jumble here as I try to think about and vocalise what it is that I do--

1. Get to know your characters. Recognise they aren't static beings, but change. For example, using Shadowheart as a reference, I think we can agree she has three basic states of being in the game: first, what's she’s like as an acolyte of Shar; second, what she's like as an ex-acolyte/selunite; and third, what she's like as a Dark Justiciar. Ie. in the beginning Shadowheart is blunt, defensive, scared and anxious. Still, she's also committed to her cause which has been off-roaded by needing to find a cure (and she has private doubts about that cause because of the trauma she's been through finding the artefact). But as a selunite, she's much more open and honest with her doubts and her feelings AND she's not afraid to have a bit more of a joke--you can sense a weight has been lifted from her, even as the initial decision crushes her. Also, think about how they speak, the words they use, and how they vocalise. Shadowheart speaks differently at each iteration--as an acolyte, she speaks relatively informally (for Shadowheart) when she's speaking to you, but when she's talking about Lady Shar, she alters her language and speaks more formally, more weighty. Compare this to Dark Justiciar: she's very formal all the time now, because she's moved from an acolyte to a representative of Shar, which needs to be taken seriously.

2. Empathise with them. What does the current stage of their journey feel like? If it were you, how would you feel and how does that differ to how they might feel? Read into the things they say in-game: their psychology comes as much as from what they don't say as it does what they do say.

3. Contextualise them within your fic: now you know what stage of their journey are they at, think about how that is affected by the environment/context you've put them in. For example, in my fic Give it Up for DJ Shadowheart, Shadowheart never moved past the stage of being an acolyte of Lady Shar but, more than that, she was never given the choice to do so-- Shar abandoned her when she was no longer useful so she was never given the object of choice. How does that affect her character, and how does it affect it in a modern context? For me, I decided not being given that choice would likely make Shadowheart feel stuck in place and, given her in-game bias to move to Selunite when offered choice, it makes sense to me that she would slowly become the selunite version of herself over time so long as she had positive influences in her life that promoted finding joy and purpose in other places, and promoted healing. Thinking about Lae’zel, I’ve framed her in the aftermath of her abandoning Vlaakith (getting fired from her job and losing her girlfriend is my equivalency to this) but instead of having another cause (Orpheus/a new job/her girlfriend) she has nothing and feels she has nowhere to go. And in my opinion, that would simply be too much for her to cope with, as someone who is driven by purpose and structure. Therefore she falls into a deep depression.

4. Have fun with it!!! Fanfiction is ultimately about self-indulgence and you should be focusing on what makes you happy to write more than anything. The characters don’t need to be perfect. In BG3 they are all so unique and as long as you are having fun whilst you’re writing them—if you’re making yourself smile, turning yourself on, whatever it is you want to get from your fic—then you are doing an AMAZING JOB!

Honestly I feel I’ve mostly talked a load of guff here, it was a lot harder to think about how I characterise people than I thought, but I hope I’ve helped in some way, even if just by explaining my thought processes behind my own characterisations. I hope it makes sense anyway!

And for what its worth, I’m sure you’re doing a lot better than you think you are and I wish you all the best in your fanfiction endeavours! Remember that, as much as I celebrate kudos/bookmark/hits milestones—and I do—they are very arbitrary numbers and if you’re happy with your fic, if you get pleasure out of reading/writing it, that’s really all that matters. I’m not ashamed to say I reread my fics all the time because I wrote them for me! And of course, to think that I’ve written something just for my own enjoyment that other people have enjoyed too is really wonderful! But I always keep in mind that at the end of it all, my fiction is for me!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR AMAZING ENGAGEMENT BTW YOU ARE SO SWEET AND I WISH YOU ALL THE BEST!! Come back anytime, I love to chat!!! <3 <3

[blackjackkent]

aa you're getting so close to the end of the game!! i've been following for a while, since early act 2 i think- and it's been really really fun!! excited to see what the end has in store for hector >:D for the dark urge playthrough, i just thought i'd ask if you've had anything spoiled for you/what the spoilers might have been?

AAAA indeed! \o/

I think I am def getting very close - the only Big things I can think of offhand that are still open are the House of Grief, Ansur, and rescuing Orpheus (and finding the remaining Dribbles Bits), and then we're off to brainland. I'm very nervous about what's going to happen to our boy Hec haha. (Particularly with Karlach.) But very excited to find out!

Tysm for following along on my story with me. <3 I am so glad you're enjoying it; I've had an absurdly good time writing it.

I have done my damnedest to skid my eyes past as much as possible about the Durge experience to stay as unspoiled as I can. I have picked up a few things though (which I'll put under cut here for safety's sake for anyone else trying to stay unspoiled XD).

Basically I know she's a Bhaalspawn, although I also know that SHE won't know that until at least act 2, so from a writing perspective I will be ignoring that fact until it's known in character. And I know that there's some reptilian looking dude who didn't show up in Hec's playthrough who has some significance to Durge specifically, and I know she has some kind of history with Gortash.

As far as I can recall those are the only things I've really picked up. Hopefully there's more too that I'm not aware of. So far this game has been better at surprising me and blowing my mind than any other I've ever played. XD

Ty again for joining me on these adventures! <3

[casey-complains]

it’s me! again! a greek myth nerd! i have thoughts on the hades vid. (this is kind of liveblogging so it’s not entirely coherent)

first off the acting is very much tiktok-y. i think his glasses are fab (i’m a glasses-wearing person so i love when people give their characters glasses <3). ig my main question is what version of hades is this??? disney hades or greek myth hades? because the intro font is from disney’s hercules but this doesn’t seem like that version of hades. script is ok.

myth annoyances (myths are kind of subjective tho so take it with a grain of salt):

it’s “CARE-on” also not “SHARE-on.” just gets on my nerves a little bit.

oop no one goes to heaven or purgatory anymore. because of paperwork?????

orpheus and eurydice are married, not just bf/gf

old girl persephone??? they were the best couple in the greek myths!

this is a pet peeve of mine that’s constant - how does hades know about hell?? why is he referencing it if it’s not real?

ty for reading, hope you’re doing well :)

ty for your perspective! im honestly not surprised he got some things wrong

[lovesick-level-up]

Haiii can u make sum mental family communication cards? Ty :3

hey, anon. we don't do stuff outside our sourcelist on our rentry. please refer to it before you send in a request.

~ orpheus

[codename-adler]

musing about jeanaaron rn.... what are your thinkings about them tell me anything

an exception from my to-do list for u orpheus and my loves Jeanaaron <3

- the height difference is EXQUISITE. 5ft vs 6ft2 😍😍😍

- backliner duo backliner tension backliner sync backliner soul

- i understand and read Aaron as a very no bullshit guy, but like, that’s it. he’s not mean about it, not cruel, not condescending, not teasing, not fake, not anything. (unless u are Neil Josten) i think that it’s very refreshing and fascinating to Jean? to meet someone who really has no ulterior motives whatsoever, in life and with his person. very trust material in Jean’s eyes methinks. the very just middle between overly sweet positivity and stabbing despair? idk, i just think Aaron shared Andrew’s honesty, but in a more neutral, idgaf way. does that make sense?

- Aaron tends to Jean’s woundssssss like no one ever has before and there is so much less pain!!!

- Jean cracks Aaron open right down the middle where nobody ever bothered to lookkkkk and there is so much more understanding!!!

- i like the Kevaaron vibe of revenge, like: you took my forever partner, i’m stealing your twin! or; you chose that moldy ginger snap, i’m choosing the same brand of bastard but he is TALL! it’s funny to me :)

- the patience they have for one another is infinite; they feel no rush, no pressure, no resentment. they would wait eternities for just one smile from the other, even if that’s all they would ever get.

- the quiet is important. silence without anticipation? a reprieve of the noise inside and outside? freely? i think they’re both silent people, but with one another there’s no forcing words, no expectations, no waiting for the other shoe to drop. the safest place where everything just stops and all is okay.

- CUDDLES. they are both hardcore heavy duty octopi in bed. holding tight tight tight tight no space all warmth. intertwined like bonsai roots.

- they looooooove to judge people together!!! especially their teammates and classmates. but the grocery store and airport are fun places too.

- i think they should learn to play instruments together. it would be very sexy. and angsty.

- i imagine them taking turns cooking, always one manning the kitchen, and the other sitting on the countertop. the kicking-against-the-cupboard-or-island length varies, but not the domesticity and intimacy of it all.

- Jean is the best teacher Aaron has ever had. for studying AND Exy. Jean is the best backliner, yes, but has that je-ne-sais-quoi that just gets through to Aaron, that just gets Aaron

- Aaron is also suchhhh a sucker for validation and making Jean proud is his #1 kink

- i think Catalina is so much like Katelyn (and woah would u look at that, such similar names 👀) that she instantly takes a liking to Aaron too, and Aaron as well right back despite his best efforts, and Jean is so touched that his bestfriend has adopted Aaron like she did with him, like he truly can have everything 🥹

- Jean immensely appreciate that Aaron is among the very very few people who does not shit on Kevin, but doesn’t worship him either.

- for what Neil did for Jean, Aaron truly starts to resent him less and less thanks to Jean offering a less idealistic vision of Neil that Andrew and the Foxes all share, but showing him Neil’s true colors that can also be good despite their violence.

- Jeanaaron on the motorcycle??? tiny beefcake plastered to Jean’s muscly broad back??? HELLO???

- back to the honesty think, i think where Jeanaaron differs from Kevaaron and is instead more similar to Andreil, is that the walls have to be taken down very painstakingly; Kevin and Aaron already know each other and have seen each others worse, there’s no armour to go through; Jean and Aaron don’t know each other at first, but they understand each other like no one, so it’s a game of truth too, one at a time, tearing down those barriers and touching that soft true heart behind; what makes them panic, what makes them scream, what plagues their nights and days, what lures in their past… it’s a whole new process of dealing with your trauma when no one else could ever handle it, much less want to look at it and kiss it better anyway.

also dusting off me old old playlist i had made for them, just for you:

take me home + 100 bandaids are really my jeanaaron anthems

[des-no9]

AO3 tag game <33

Rules: Go to your (current/main) AO3 account and find the following:

Got tagged by my lovely dear @reservoirmonks !!! ty my lovely <33

What ratings do you write most of your fics under?

E. Knew this without looking lol. I've written a lot of PwP, but even a lot of my longer, poetic stuff or plot driven fics, the sex is usually pretty explicit. I think I'm tagging it right idk? Occasionally I've tagged things M where it's a bit more fade to black or more dreamy and poetic, but generally my sex scenes are explicit, if poetic.

What are your top three fandoms?

JJBA, Overwatch and BG3! So happy BG3 reached my top 3 lately. It overtook World of Warcraft, and the insane brainrot has cemented itself truly on my AO3.

What is the top character you write about?

Prosciutto JJBA is the top. Doesn't surprise me, considering the amount of fics I wrote for JJBA. After that it's Risotto Nero, and then Mercy from Overwatch.

What are your top three pairings?

Lavellan/Solas, Prosciutto/Risotto and Maiev Shadowsong/Illidan Stormrage. The first fics I ever posted on AO3 were a bunch of Solavellan ones, and mostly short fics that came from my tumblr. The Ris/Pro ones again, no surprise. And the Maiev/Illidan ones, I did a big long series of them, again lots of shorter fics too. I write a lot more longer fics these days - relatively. Like I used to write a lot of sub 1k fics back then, now I write between 2k-10k around I'd say, especially for my Vanquish/Voss/Orpheus fic series. So, less fics but longer.

What are the top three additional tags?

One shot

Drabble

Angst

Checks out I guess lol

Does any of this surprise you?

Not really lmaol. I'm a chronic over-tagger so I always tag obvious things like one-shot fics, drabbles or whatever. It's stupid, but idk I do it a lot. And like I said before, I used to be a lot more prolific with writing a lot more sub 1k fics, but now I write a lot more longer things, comparitavely I guess. I write LOADS of smut. Like, I knew my most used rating is E. Sex is like, a language to me in writing. Maybe it doesn't always need to be tagged E, and I think my latest Van/Voss was actually M.

I'm anxious about tagging but fuck it lets go lol tagging @4th-make-quail @gothyanki @archangelsunited

[alienidolism]

hii can I rq makoto yuki npts pls and Ty :3

yeah of course !

names

n-jima , headphones , bleu , wave , ocean , raymond , orpheus , mako , amadeus , truth , constantine , ashby , piscis , animo , veritas , valeraine , vincent

pronouns

sword/swords , protag/protags , persona/personas , mp3/mp3s , tech/techs , reload/reloads , dark/darks , time/times , tick/tocks , courage/courageous/courages , cure/cures , retro/retros , else/elegants/elegance

titles

the one with earphones , the one who wields a blade , the protagonist , (prn) who is silent , the one on (prns) laptop all day , (prn) who is reckless , (prn) who experienced the dark hour , (prn) who has true courage

i tried my best !! thank you for requesting !!

[luminescentlyricist]

✒️ A Prologue - Identity V 💉

CONTENT WARNINGS: IMPLIED DEATH/LOSS

This is modelled around Season 19 Essence 3, with Homesick and Awaiting! The third figure called to is Aging, though she's not mentioned by name.

Once again, I would like to credit @immortalpheus as a major source of inspiration, even though this isn't about Immortal!

~

Orpheus De Ross was painfully lonely, and had been for a longer time than he cared to admit. He had dragged himself out of bed and to his desk, monocle affixed to his face as always, but the fountain pen he claimed to treasure sat unused in its ink pot. This had long since dried up, as had his motivation to do anything more than dream. Sleep was his only release from the deepening depression that gnawed at him as if eating a hole in his chest. Though the manor’s staff had upheld their duties and attempted to make the place cleaner and brighter for the lone resident, he hardly noticed the changes. The man had been stagnating for an unknown amount of time, and not even the freedoms of his writing felt like they could save him from the haze that enveloped his emotions.

What use was it all if nobody was around to read it?

This phrase whirled around in his mind as he stared listlessly forwards, eyes tracing the heavy velveted curtains that blanketed the space in near-darkness. He’d made a request earlier that week for his bed to be moved into his writing room, for he felt so little motivation that getting from one location to another was a chore. It had only been a mistake. Instead of relief, what little he felt was taken over by a dull regret, being unwilling to accept that he’d weakened so drastically. Laying his head down on the desk, Orpheus longed to close his eyes and float away. If anyone found him in such a state, he knew his already poorer sales would dwindle, and the only source of joy he could find in the greying skies of his life would fade.

Instead he forced himself to be awake. There was no wound clock in the vicinity, but the deepening bags beneath his eyes were no longer a source of concern. All that mattered was continuing to produce works, whatever internal protests his body had in store for him. Taking up the pen, he unfolded a notebook, reasoning that it was useless to attempt extending an actual book. The ideas necessary to make anything coherent and publishable just weren’t going to come to him in such a slump, after all. His eyelids drooped for a moment before he pushed himself back upright in the chair, arms trembling from the strain. There came a knock at the door of the study, but the young man had no voice to answer it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to anyone that wasn’t his own face in the mirror.

That accompanied a sense of loss deeper than even he, a writer by trade, lacked the words to articulate. He often wondered if it was all wrong for him, and others had told him he was free to retire because of his inherited estate, but making others happy with his writing had hardly seemed like a job before. Now, his resolution was wavering, as was his sense of identity - “Orpheus” was simply a pen name assigned to him by his publisher. True to the profession, he moulded himself to suit whoever saw him for the best effect, and spent little time wondering about personal preferences. Nobody had cared about him enough to tell him that was wrong before it was all too late, and he’d forgotten who he was behind the mask of the Baron de Ross. He no longer knew, but at least they did. The soft clicking of the door handle roused him from his morose thoughts in a matter of seconds, and he plastered on a gentle smile for no benefit of his own.

Emily Dyer, unexpectedly, had come to his aid. Though she worked silently, she knew the reclusive novelist would only let a precious few people into the Manor, let alone the study. He needed someone to take care of him, however small the gestures. Pulling the curtains open and tying them aside, the doctor placed a small object on Orpheus�� desk as she passed to leave: a white paper boat, folded carefully and hand-painted with flowers. She looked backwards upon placing her hand on the door, poised as if wishing to speak to him, but swallowed this notion just as soon. What little response she could’ve gleaned from his words wouldn’t be worth the effort for either participant. She left him be after that, as much as she regretted it. He was one of the two most important figures in her life, and guilt would prevent her mind from settling for some time after that. It didn’t much matter that the (perceived) uselessness was unavoidable. It stung anyway.

The light from the window did nothing to improve Orpheus’ mood, but one thing did catch his attention: a small black feather drifted downwards from a tree in the garden. That garden… it was like a mockery of times long gone. Yet every staff member he could muster the will to contact insisted that it would make him feel better some day, and they continued to maintain it to the best of their abilities despite his frequent protest. It’d been quite a while since he’d been out of the manor, and even longer since he’d seen any animal that wasn’t a fish drifting aimlessly in the aquarium of the common area. However restricted they were, the novelist often felt they had more freedom than he did. Not that he had the motivation to fix that, of course.

That feather, though… he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The birds had long since fallen silent, and yet they continued to visit him. The manor was feeling less and less familiar the longer he wandered within its walls, like some sick, reversed alienation tactic. Standing up, Orpheus cleared his throat, pulling a suit jacket on and fixing the angle of his slipping monocle. The flowers embroidered across the lapels reminded him of home, even though he couldn’t quite remember where that was to him. Two special people - Miss Dyer being one of them - had sewn the design onto it long ago, and the feeling of the raised threads against his fingers gave him a small burst of comfort. 

To be homesick for somewhere he couldn’t remember was torture, but fate had never been kind to him in the first place. Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he didn’t bother to find a proper brush, instead running his fingers carelessly through his hair. Grease came off onto them, but he simply assumed it was because of hair gel, though the container sat empty on his desk as it had for many days. Taking care of himself was just one more expenditure of strength. Removing the familiar presence of a ball-point pen from his shirt pocket, the novelist scrawled down a simple phrase on the paper, as if beginning to make an outline of the day’s plans for himself: ‘The Novelist visits the gardens.’ Doing so was by no means a regular practice for him, but he had a feeling it’d give him a needed sense of direction in such a slump. Tucking away the pen and the notebook both into his pocket, he came to a stand, eyes distantly scanning the window for any sign of another feather or accompanying bird.

Gently, he unfolded the paper boat, refolding it into the smallest square possible. He wasn’t going to distract himself from the bliss of the moment by reading it. There were people who cared about him, and that was all he really needed to know. Details were irrelevant at that point. Unfastening the three topmost buttons on his dark jacket, with trembling fingers the man folded back the top of his suit’s fabric. Resting against the space nearest to his heart, there was a shakily sewn pocket. Tugging at the stitches, he soon managed to loosen those up the top. Despite how badly he was trembling, Orpheus managed to place the paper inside, searching afterwards for a needle. The pocket was usually kept open or simply buttoned closed on other suits he’d added it to, but he felt there’d be no need to replace it any time soon. Sewing the top up, he buttoned his coat before allowing himself to relax.

Opening the door of his study, Orpheus took a deep breath. The air no longer smelled stale. Hearing his own shoes clicking against the floorboards as he walked down the hallway almost made his head begin to spin, but he bore it anyway. He felt distant, as if he were floating within his body, heedless to the environment around him. As much as he longed to be free of sensation, if only for a moment, that wasn’t going to happen. As soon as he turned the corner to go out to the gardens, an ear-splitting cry rang out. The call was familiar, and bought to mind a sleek black feather. This didn’t make him stop - instead, it only furthered the resolve he thought was lost. For the first time in too long, the novelist heaved open the manor’s doors and stepped into the dimming light.

The garden was there, freshly maintained, but the flowers and foliage were the only traces of life. Not even the insects that Melly had once trailed behind her remained, which was a continual worry for the maids in regards to growing produce. Pollination helped in terms of diversity as well, and it made their jobs a lot easier. Orpheus was oblivious to all of this work, of course. He left the manor with returning reluctance, for the burst of motivation he felt was draining away. The sleek black feather remained in his thoughts, but the appeal of it was lessening because of his sobering mental state. Such quick change was exhausting. The novelist continued on his journey at a more relaxed pace, eyes flickering about to take in the sights.

The maze was still standing. After everything that’d happened within the confines of the hedges, it loomed there as a reminder of Orpheus’ failures. He took a rattling breath inwards, trying not to let the heat creeping on the back of his neck unnerve him too much. It was just a bunch of leaves. Nothing else. There would never be blood spilled there again. There never... there never had been. Whatever was he thinking? Shaking his head to clear his thoughts in a physical manner, he continued to walk, though his footsteps were getting increasingly louder in his head. This strange warping was chalked up to tiredness, as the young man had no idea how long it’d been since he’d had a full night of sleep. The demand for his writing was lowering as he’d become more of a recluse and inherited his father’s estate, but old habits were hard to break. To Emily’s dismay, he’d often find himself asleep at his desk despite having no ideas to write.

Sitting on a small bench with his back to the maze in question, he spied the feather lying on the ground a few metres away. It was being ruffled by a slight breeze, but that didn’t deter him. If the bird it’d dropped from were to return, then that could provide him with the burst of motivation needed to complete his next chapter. Why he was so captivated by a small thing was beyond him, but went unquestioned. As he stood to collect it after a momentary rest to collect his thoughts, the feather was swept up in a gust of wind, and lodged itself firmly beneath a tile on the mosaic covering one of the building’s walls. This mosaic was something he often came to when inspiration was lacking, for the manor’s residents and guests were free to decorate one of the numerous panels as a way of leaving their impressions if they were to leave. Many were those he had painted himself, alongside Emily and his other regular visitor.

With another flick of the pen and notebook cover, a yawn was stifled when Orpheus found his resolution in the script: ’The Novelist continues his search, and will not stop until he has uncovered the truth of the gardens that he seeks - whether this be a feather or something more.’ Truthfully, he expected nothing more than the owner of the feather, but as a story writer was prone to slipping into fantasies and dreams. It was detrimental to others in terms of keeping his attention, but on many occasions Orpheus considered this trait to be the only thing that kept him sane. Awareness to the world outside the manor terrified him more than he cared to admit.

Tugging gently at the feather, Orpheus’ eyes roved across the designs on the tiles. Caught up in remembrance, he hardly realised that he’d almost freed the object until something sharp and familiar jolted him away from the wall, tearing part of the feather’s fluff off in the process - the call of a crow, indignant as ever. Well, that was one way to find out who it belonged to… His gaze flickered up to the crow in question, a small smile dancing across his lips. They weren’t a common sight in the manor grounds, so seeing their sleek forms was always a surprise. This one was adolescent, and fluffed up delightfully against the crisp breeze rustling through the garden. Though it would be a bad idea, he almost longed to climb the tree so that he could feel how soft it was, and perhaps get it to a better place. Heedless of the fact he hadn’t asked anyone about their natural habitats, the gardens certainly weren’t safe enough.

Nodding to the bird as acknowledgement before setting back to work, the novelist bowed his head toward the wall once more. Running his fingers along the grout between the tiles, his bitten nails snagged on something unfamiliar. Pulling his hand back, he heard a soft click. That wasn’t a sign of anything good. Before he could move to alert one of the maids of the maintenance issue, a glint of silver caught his eye. The crow had returned, bringing with it a coat pin that it dropped at his feet before letting out an alerting call and retreating to its branch. Orpheus bent down and picked it up carefully. It was a small snake pin, curled in an infinity symbol and biting its own tail. This was similar to one of the mosaic tiles’ designs, but he had no recollection of what it meant to him at the time of painting. That sort of forgetfulness tended to happen a lot, but the mosaic was there to remind him, not take his understanding away…

This was a hassle he wasn’t quite prepared for, so he turned his attention momentarily to adding another point to the day’s itinerary. Uncharacteristically, he nearly dropped the pen from his hand as it shook as if by nerves. Though the wind was becoming colder when the days wore on, it wasn’t enough to send a significant chill through the thick and dry fabrics he wore. Unable to afford himself another brief moment of respite, he scrawled onto the page, ignoring how harsh his strokes turned out. Unless the paper tore properly or the ink stained, it wouldn’t be a problem to record small things such as these: ’The Novelist confidently approaches his destinations, for his fate can always be rewritten.’ This wasn’t true, but he chose to believe what he wrote anyway. Self-confidence was something he needed.

Stowing the pin safely in his other jacket pocket, Orpheus resolved not to waste any more time ruminating on things that didn’t make sense. The crow had disappeared from the treetops, which filled him with an unexplainable sense of regret and sadness. Perhaps it was simply that morning’s mental fog catching up to him, but they had felt like a companion in the isolated garden. Digging the rest of the feather’s misshapen plume away from the tiles, his fingers lingered around the snake design for a few moments longer. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, the tile had been pushed in slightly, and he could have moved it aside. The ink on his notepad didn’t lie to him: he’d continue looking around the garden itself, and not stray off the beaten path too much this time. With a huff, he reached up and swept a stray hair away from his monocle. The lens was cracking in some places, but he’d never bothered to get it fixed.

The sky was beginning to darken considerably by that time, so Orpheus’ pace quickened. Before he knew what he was doing, he had circled back into the maze, and was weaving through the foliage with an unnatural steadiness. He’d not visited the maze in a long time, much less soon enough to remember all of the twists and turns with such certainty. The leaves blurred together in front of his face, and he continued to walk even though he could no longer tell where he was going. The branches that hadn’t been trimmed back in some time stung as they cut his face, small gashes that luckily weren’t deep enough to bleed. As the sun truly set, the lights flickered on, but the novelist ignored everything around him. He felt a compulsion from his own instructions was stronger than ever, and he wasn’t going to ignore it just for someone else’s sake.

As soon as he reached the centre of the maze, Orpheus sat down and retrieved the mysterious pin from where it was safely stowed away. His suit was going to get dirty, but the significance and comfort of that particular jacket was, at that moment, the least important thing to him. Running his fingertip over the snake’s emerald eye, he wiped the dust onto his pants. His breathing became so quiet that it was a wonder he was awake, for the rhythm of his chest’s rise and fall was more appropriate for someone lost to dreaming. After a few minutes of this, his eyelids truly drooped. Staying still with his eyes closed, Orpheus was unable to stifle a yawn. Pressing the cold metal of the pin into his palm to renew his alertness, he reached up to fasten the pin to his jacket, but dropped it for the second time. Cursing quietly, he bent down to retrieve it. He decided that he’d prefer not to be interrupted, lest he lose his train of thought again.

The doctor, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly worried for his absence. Though it was true they were both adults and had no need for curfews, she hadn’t been able to tell him important news of the day, and he had hardly ignored her before. Adjusting her capelet’s position and rubbing her arms as a ward from the cold, she exchanged a few quiet words with a maid for preparations to begin a search before slipping out the manor doors. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but if dawn broke and he hadn’t returned, then there would have to be more serious efforts made. The Baron wasn’t simply the most important person to her: jobs needed to be allocated, calls taken, and he was still the novelist she dearly loved the stories of. He had his own occupation and a life to continue.

Turning the pin around in his hands a few times, he observed how the emeralds gleamed dully in the lights. He heard nothing except the pounding of his heart in his ears, the sound seeming to dwarf everything beyond, but paid no mind to it. How had he been so careless? The pin was beautiful… yes! That was it. He had to show her… Staggering to his feet as if swept into a trance, the novelist swayed in place. There was something in the back of his mind, and he was unable to shake it. He’d write it down just in case… disregarding his shaking hands, he drew the pen across the page of his notebook, but was unable to finish the bullet point as his pen began to leak, staining the paper and his hands both with ink.

Without these directions, he was aimless. A dull thud was heard as the pen and notebook, the latter rapidly drying in the wind and heavy with ink, hit the grass. A single tear trailed down the man’s cheek as he looked down towards it, but he had no voice left to cry. He didn’t want to show weakness to the ones who loved him, but that strange pin felt like it was amplifying his emotions tenfold. He’d simply stay out in the gardens, then, and bother nobody with his feelings as usual. Though he felt strange, light-headed and almost feverish, there was nothing he could do to ease the sickness building in his stomach. Sinking to his knees in the maze, he gripped the grass as if it were the only thing keeping him from floating away, letting out an uneasy chuckle. 

It’d be fine, right? The young man hoped so. All that was left was to wait, but he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to be found. Sleeplessness was catching up to him, and his thought patterns caved to falsities and illogical conclusions. The pin… He had everything he needed right there, even though the wind bit into his clothing. How little everything else mattered! Ignorance… why, his father had been right to shove everything into his arms. Maybe now he could let everything fade away, and the emeralds could capture the gaze of his adversaries. That crow knew better than people what was best for him! What fools they were, not to listen to the shrill calls of the birds. Blocking his ears had done him no good before, but now he felt enlightened. He was finally finding the truth!

To Emily’s concern, the Baron was making no effort to reveal himself, and she stumbled through the gardens even as the moonlight began to fade. She wished above all else to find him, of course, but there was only so much she would be able to do. Her fingertips were beginning to go numb from the cold, but she didn’t want to lose track of him. Pulling on the gloves that hung at her waist, she wriggled her fingers to check if some of their sensation had returned. They weren’t lined with the same warm black fur as she’d requested for her capelet, but they’d do well enough insulating her for now. And so she continued to search, but everything was fruitless. Returning to the main building in the early hours, Miss Dyer was left to crawl into Orpheus’ own bed, soaking in the warmth from his lingering presence to attempt easing her thoughts.

If he found her, yes, there might have been some questions, but all of the love in the world to go along with it. Though Orpheus had never been a verbally affectionate man, he’d often leave her a paper crane or something of the sort on her bedside to welcome her with a poem in the morning, and she kept all of these. She used them to teach origami, as his folds were always so perfect it showed how much he cared for her. In return, she would nurse his paper cuts, scolding him with a laugh held back in her voice all the while. “Now, Orpheus, you must be more careful! Your hands are important, you know… No, not as much as your heart. Don’t be silly. I’ll take care of that too.”

He’d never make it back to the Manor, after all.

Orpheus had put the pin through his chest pocket whilst trying to fasten it onto his own jacket, tearing the paper so that he’d never be able to read what was written within. To some superstitious individuals, this was tantamount to making the text a lie, but none of the manor’s residence allowed such negativity to reach them. Emily hadn’t been the only one to write it: a child’s small, shaking script echoed the message in their own writing, but the sentiment was a clear truth in both instances. The state of the paper didn’t matter.

“You’ll always have a place here. I love you.”

[transgenderenkidu]

tagged by @newyorkcitywater!! ty margo <3

last song: bloody shirt (bastille remix) - to kill a king (and the song on repeat before that was store by the mountain goats)

currently watching: hmmm technically im currently watching tmnt 2012 and tmnt 2003 but itd be more accurate to say those are on the backburner cause i dont actually watch a lot of shows. i might rewatch castlevania seasons 1&2 at some point soon though

currently reading: grunt by mary roach (very very slowly), trigun maximum (also very slowly) and i'm gonna start a book i picked up at the national book fair recently, the keeper by tananarive due and steven barnes, and illustrated by marco finnegan

currently obsessing over: so i have these robot ocs - lynet and bryni - and they would make SUCH a messed up orpheus and eurydice. theyre siblings so itd be platonic but more importantly lynet straight up murdered bryni. she doesn't even want bryni back, she's only doing this because she can't stand to look at her dead sibling's automaton corpse go about its day as if its a thing that thinks. but she's desperate. theres a bunch of ways this could go from here but in the end, lynet will be denied punishment and denied forgiveness for the murder. i am chewing on it

tagging... @gilgameshhimself, @hydrasbane1, @sporadicstarstruckplanet, @strengthrequireskindness, and whoever wants to on account of basically every url escaped my brain the instant i tried to think of people to tag

[powpowz]

what form of love do you embody?

love as devotion

[ devotion: love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause ]

when ruth said to naomi "where you go, i will go, and where you stay, i will stay. your people will be my people, and your God my God" and when hozier sang "i'll be the dreadful need from the devotee that drove [orpheus] underground" and when deathcab for cutie sang "if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, i will follow you into the dark"

tagged: @halothes omg ty <3 tagging: @kuratm , @danceblades , @arritabda , and YOU!

[riddlesandlies]

I, uh, don't have many people here that I know, and you ask me for nine people that I want to get better? Thanks for the tag, @quotesandmiracles, but this part of the chain dies with me >:3

Three ships

Orpheus and Eurydice in Hades (because of the music, of course it's because of the music, I will always listen to Darren Korb's tracks with reverence), Hound/Sandor Clegane and Lady Brienne from Game of Thrones (they have one scene in which they fight, and one scene in which they talk about why they fought and that's it, I want more of these two idiots trying to kill each other for whatever knightly reasons) and finally Christoph and Darell from Kindret (a relatively obscure russian book from 2006) (this is just the best kind of platonic friendship - two dudes helping each other through all the hardships, they are intimate through shared passion and grief, Chris even going as far as to excorcise a god rather than kill it on an off chance that Darell might survive, just mwah, dudes being bros to the grave and beyond)

First ship

I don't do fandom, but the earliest relationship I can remember that I can reasonably point to and say "I ship it" is Roy Mustang and Liza Hawkeye from Full Metal Alchemist. It's a fun one - romantic relationships didn't make a lot of sense for me, most of them just registering as "a plot device to make two characters care about each other". This justification was so pervasive in media, that whenever two characters of opposing sex have two much tying them together, I awaited a kiss scene like one would await a dentist's appointment - with hope that it comes and passes without much pain. It never happened with those two and it was such a relief that they kept it in character - business only. And yes, I'm calling lieutenant Liza, this is the hill I will die on.

Last song

I almost always have background music, even now as I'm writing this. I can't sleep, which means whatever relaxed epic I liked the most recently, which is Crimson Crown by Swallow the Sun, pulled right out of the depth of Spotify, cursed be its name.

Last movie

Either Nimona or Banshees of Inisherin, and I don't think I can figure out which. Nimona is Nimona, you know it. Banshees is not what I expected of it, but still very enjoyable once you become comfortable answering the questions it poses.

Currently reading

Congregation by Nadezhda Popova, recommended to me by @reflingthefox. The protagonist, a newly appointed inquisitor and investigator on his first case, is such a relatable character to me in the way he thinks and overthinks and spirals into his thoughts, never quite sure if he's doing his best. A nice book to have when you need to kill some time.

Currently watching

Elementary, yet another retelling of Sherlock Holmes, in which he's a recovering addict, and Joan (!) Watson is his sober companion. I'm just a sucker for hyper intelligent detective protagonists, I'll probably watch Mentalist next someday.

Currently consuming

Uhhh, tea shroom, which is just a basic combucha, protein shakes, and whichever soda finds itself in our fridge

Currently craving

More intimate, quiet time with my boyfriend, more opportunities and energy to meet him

[bonesandthebees]

Then there’s how this all comes across do Quackity. I feel kinda bad for him. In Wilbur’s mind, it’s just a threat, but it might feel like more of an ultimatum to Quackity. It’s do this and get a lot of Blaziphane, or don’t do it and and never see another drop of it. And he could have just said no at the start, but Wilbur is speaking his language and he can’t refuse. He also knows that if Wilbur is offering him this much it has to be either something he really wants or something stupid and dangerous. (it’s the latter).

Quackity is trying to figure out as much as he can before agreeing. But Wilbur holds a lot more political power in this situation. More power than most people could ever imagine having. So when Quackity learns he’s going to throw that away and try to run. He’s confused. There could be a few reasons ranging form not understanding why someone would throw away something he wants (if he wants it, that is) to not understanding why Wilbur would want to run from Phil if Phil is clearly fond of him and willing to protect him. Maybe he though that Wilbur wormed his way in and is now confused what his goal was.

Honestly, it’s just more of Quackity not understanding Wilbur at all and trying to figure him out. Meanwhile, the rest of his brain is having a battle between his want for money and his self-preservation skills (as Wilbur puts it). If Quackity’s life got threatened over hitting Wilbur, contributing to Wilbur’s death is probably going to be a lot worse than death. So naturally, he doesn’t want that. (and maybe some part of him does care a little about this kid after the drunk trauma dump)

Mostly he’s just inconvenienced and the feather tattoos show that (that’s such a cool detail btw). But then Wilbur goes and pulls a Phil into full Orpheus mode and Quackity might suddenly understand why Phil is interested in him a lot better. There are a few reasons the intimidation is so effective, most of them related to leaving Quackity in the dark and letting his mind wrongfully fill in blanks.

1. Quackity did not know anything about the invasion in detail. So he just learned about something terrifying Wilbur went through and that probably instantly gains Wilbur some extra respect. 2. Quackity does not know that Wilbur can’t fight for shit. Like sure he hit him once after getting shoved. He would think that Wilbur would have fought him if he could. (or at least handle a punch better). But I don’t think he has any actually confirmation. 3. Quackity thinks using the Voice is impossible for Wilbur, so he’s probably going to assume Wilbur used violence instead. 4. Wilbur accurately sets up how impossible their odds were and is living proof that they did make it. 5. Phil and Techno seem the violent type, Quackity has no reason they wouldn’t want that in a protegé.

Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised of Quackity now thinks Wilbur killed at least one man. Which he hasn’t, but he’s definitely capable of it. Also, quackity has probably seen a lot of shit as a smuggler, so his imagination is running wild. Did I say props do you for also reminding the reader once more of how traumatic the invasion was? I can’t remember but I’m saying it again.

(3/3)

-🎄

yeahhhh quackity isn't being given much of a real choice in all of this, but again, wilbur has to use the only cards he has. he wants to try and figure out as much as he can before agreeing to something as extreme as this, because he's not an idiot, but wilbur is holding a lot of political power over his head. also, like you said, he's confused what wilbur's motivations are. why is he running if this is what he wanted? he's starting to realize maybe he misinterpreted some things.

quackity knows what the consequences of this could be if phil and techno find out. it's not just about not getting his money. this could put his own life in jeopardy. and, well, maybe he cares a little too. (also ty about the tattoos!! they're such a cool detail I love mentioning)

that's the thing! the best way to pull off a bluff or lie is usually to let people fill in the blanks themselves. quackity doesn't know what happened on eldingvegr, so wilbur gives him just enough information to let him get an idea of it, and lets him assume things from there. and oh boy, does quackity's mind run wild.

thank you!! yes it's been so long since the invasion I felt like I had to remind the readers again just how bad it was for them, especially with the context of chapter 26 :)