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Gilded
Title: Gilded
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Lovecraft, Fitzgerald, Lucy, Steinbeck, Mitchell, Hawthorne, Twain, Melville, Poe, Alcott
Pairing(s): None
Genre: General/Fluff?
Word Count: 900
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Lovecraft on the other Guild members.
Notes: How do you write Lovecraft?
Fitzgerald made the contract, and so he knows the most about Lovecraft, at least in a practical sort of way. He knows what he asked of the god, and what the god demanded in return for his service, and he knows a tiny portion of what the god can do. That’s enough for him.
Fitzgerald never goes out of his way to be particularly social with Lovecraft, even in that superficial way he does with the other Guild members. That’s fine. Lovecraft isn’t here to connect to humans, at least not in that way. He’s here to fulfill the terms.
Montgomery, who prefers to be called Lucy, does not outright provoke Lovecraft - that’s hard to do in the first place - but he can tell she does not trust him. She doesn’t seem to trust many people, Fitzgerald included.
That’s fine. Fitzgerald is not the sort of person you should trust without a binding contract, and Lovecraft is the only one with one of those here. He thinks perhaps humans should bargain with their souls more often, if only so they could relax and not worry about being stabbed in the back before their time comes.
Lucy never seems to relax.
Steinbeck is Lovecraft’s assigned partner, and if Lovecraft were to play favorites, then Steinbeck would easily be his favorite human upon this planet.
Perhaps it’s that Steinbeck doesn’t ask about Lovecraft’s species or history, despite the clear curiosity Lovecraft can see in his eyes. Perhaps it’s his devotion to the humans that happen to share his blood ties, and his willingness to do anything for them. Perhaps it’s something else entirely. Whatever it is, Lovecraft works well with him, both in his view and the view of the Guild.
Sometimes Lovecraft thinks a contract with Steinbeck wouldn’t be so bad.
He doesn’t know Mitchell very well. He can tell she’s a proud woman, and that she doesn’t care much for him. That’s fine. Not even humans always want to make friends with everyone in the Guild. Lovecraft has even less interest in socializing.
It does amaze him how little self-awareness humans have, sometimes. A god might obscure the truth to humans for their own purposes, but they would never try to deny it to themselves. What point is there in her arguing with Hawthorne when it’s obvious that she cares for him?
Humans are the most bizarre creatures Lovecraft knows.
Hawthorne is a man of a god that does not exist. Lovecraft never tries to tell him this, because he recognizes that this would be useless, and also he doesn’t care.
Hawthorne cares a great deal about his god, however. He called Lovecraft an abomination in his sight, which was merely confusing to him.
“If your god exists, and I exist, and your god created everything,” Lovecraft says, “how can anything your god made be an abomination to him? Or are you saying he didn’t make everything…?”
Hawthorne flinches, which gives Lovecraft the opportunity to leave. These conversations are draining.
Twain is direct about it, if nothing else. Lovecraft will grant him a tiny bit of respect for coming out and saying it. “What are you?”
“What are you?” Lovecraft asks in return, mildly.
“I’m a human being,” Twain says, as if it should be obvious. And it is, Lovecraft would never mistake him for anything else, but...
Head tilted to one side, Lovecraft asks, “And what is that?”
“Well, it’s - uh.” Twain pauses to think.
In the time between Twain faltering and him coming up with a satisfying answer, Lovecraft has already wandered off to pursue something more interesting.
Melville isn’t exactly aware of the full details of Lovecraft’s contract, but he knows from the beginning that Lovecraft isn’t human. It surprises him a little, then, that Melville doesn’t ask about a thing, nor accuse Lovecraft of heresy like Hawthorne. He simply treats Lovecraft as he treats anyone else: with near endless patience.
It’s wasted on Lovecraft, who’s difficult to annoy in the first place, but even he can appreciate the way it smoothes things over with the other Guild members. In a different Guild, Melville might be a key piece. But now, his importance is in his Ability.
Poe is reticent about his own thoughts when it comes to anything but Edogawa Ranpo. That said, he has an interest in the bizarre, and Lovecraft assumes he counts as bizarre.
“Would you tell me more about yourself?” Poe asks.
“No,” says Lovecraft.
That gets Poe to frown, the only part of his expression visible beneath the mop of hair. Lovecraft wonders how he doesn’t walk into walls. “...Please?”
“No,” says Lovecraft, again.
He’s not here to talk. He’s here to fulfill his contract, and talking about himself is so very tiring. Nothing Poe could offer would change his mind.
Saying Alcott is retiring is a little too complimentary. She’s anxious about speaking with other human beings, when social situations shouldn’t be considered dangerous. Among the strange people of the Guild, Lovecraft considers that one of the strangest oddities they have.
She still flinches around most of the Guild members, but not around him, for some reason.
“I don’t know why,” she says, when questioned on it. “You seem… just as awkward as I am, so it’s reassuring?”
Lovecraft certainly isn’t intending to be reassuring to anyone, but neither does he have objections to it.
“Thank you,” she says.
“...Hm.”
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Lovecraft, Fitzgerald, Lucy, Steinbeck, Mitchell, Hawthorne, Twain, Melville, Poe, Alcott
Pairing(s): None
Genre: General/Fluff?
Word Count: 900
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Lovecraft on the other Guild members.
Notes: How do you write Lovecraft?
Fitzgerald made the contract, and so he knows the most about Lovecraft, at least in a practical sort of way. He knows what he asked of the god, and what the god demanded in return for his service, and he knows a tiny portion of what the god can do. That’s enough for him.
Fitzgerald never goes out of his way to be particularly social with Lovecraft, even in that superficial way he does with the other Guild members. That’s fine. Lovecraft isn’t here to connect to humans, at least not in that way. He’s here to fulfill the terms.
Montgomery, who prefers to be called Lucy, does not outright provoke Lovecraft - that’s hard to do in the first place - but he can tell she does not trust him. She doesn’t seem to trust many people, Fitzgerald included.
That’s fine. Fitzgerald is not the sort of person you should trust without a binding contract, and Lovecraft is the only one with one of those here. He thinks perhaps humans should bargain with their souls more often, if only so they could relax and not worry about being stabbed in the back before their time comes.
Lucy never seems to relax.
Steinbeck is Lovecraft’s assigned partner, and if Lovecraft were to play favorites, then Steinbeck would easily be his favorite human upon this planet.
Perhaps it’s that Steinbeck doesn’t ask about Lovecraft’s species or history, despite the clear curiosity Lovecraft can see in his eyes. Perhaps it’s his devotion to the humans that happen to share his blood ties, and his willingness to do anything for them. Perhaps it’s something else entirely. Whatever it is, Lovecraft works well with him, both in his view and the view of the Guild.
Sometimes Lovecraft thinks a contract with Steinbeck wouldn’t be so bad.
He doesn’t know Mitchell very well. He can tell she’s a proud woman, and that she doesn’t care much for him. That’s fine. Not even humans always want to make friends with everyone in the Guild. Lovecraft has even less interest in socializing.
It does amaze him how little self-awareness humans have, sometimes. A god might obscure the truth to humans for their own purposes, but they would never try to deny it to themselves. What point is there in her arguing with Hawthorne when it’s obvious that she cares for him?
Humans are the most bizarre creatures Lovecraft knows.
Hawthorne is a man of a god that does not exist. Lovecraft never tries to tell him this, because he recognizes that this would be useless, and also he doesn’t care.
Hawthorne cares a great deal about his god, however. He called Lovecraft an abomination in his sight, which was merely confusing to him.
“If your god exists, and I exist, and your god created everything,” Lovecraft says, “how can anything your god made be an abomination to him? Or are you saying he didn’t make everything…?”
Hawthorne flinches, which gives Lovecraft the opportunity to leave. These conversations are draining.
Twain is direct about it, if nothing else. Lovecraft will grant him a tiny bit of respect for coming out and saying it. “What are you?”
“What are you?” Lovecraft asks in return, mildly.
“I’m a human being,” Twain says, as if it should be obvious. And it is, Lovecraft would never mistake him for anything else, but...
Head tilted to one side, Lovecraft asks, “And what is that?”
“Well, it’s - uh.” Twain pauses to think.
In the time between Twain faltering and him coming up with a satisfying answer, Lovecraft has already wandered off to pursue something more interesting.
Melville isn’t exactly aware of the full details of Lovecraft’s contract, but he knows from the beginning that Lovecraft isn’t human. It surprises him a little, then, that Melville doesn’t ask about a thing, nor accuse Lovecraft of heresy like Hawthorne. He simply treats Lovecraft as he treats anyone else: with near endless patience.
It’s wasted on Lovecraft, who’s difficult to annoy in the first place, but even he can appreciate the way it smoothes things over with the other Guild members. In a different Guild, Melville might be a key piece. But now, his importance is in his Ability.
Poe is reticent about his own thoughts when it comes to anything but Edogawa Ranpo. That said, he has an interest in the bizarre, and Lovecraft assumes he counts as bizarre.
“Would you tell me more about yourself?” Poe asks.
“No,” says Lovecraft.
That gets Poe to frown, the only part of his expression visible beneath the mop of hair. Lovecraft wonders how he doesn’t walk into walls. “...Please?”
“No,” says Lovecraft, again.
He’s not here to talk. He’s here to fulfill his contract, and talking about himself is so very tiring. Nothing Poe could offer would change his mind.
Saying Alcott is retiring is a little too complimentary. She’s anxious about speaking with other human beings, when social situations shouldn’t be considered dangerous. Among the strange people of the Guild, Lovecraft considers that one of the strangest oddities they have.
She still flinches around most of the Guild members, but not around him, for some reason.
“I don’t know why,” she says, when questioned on it. “You seem… just as awkward as I am, so it’s reassuring?”
Lovecraft certainly isn’t intending to be reassuring to anyone, but neither does he have objections to it.
“Thank you,” she says.
“...Hm.”