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Be Sharp

Summary:

In this reality a very different dynamic between Nyarlathotep and Arthur developed. One that Nyarlathotep regrets now that he has need of his Arthur beyond being his joyous pet musician.

A nice place to visit, but Kayne wouldn't want to live there.

Notes:

Anon Requested: Hey there! IK you've already gotten an arkayne mini prompt (which was lovely BTW) so feel free to ignore this one (it may be a bit obscure).

If you'd be willing to write either of these for arkayne (slash or gen, your choice) I would give you my whole heart and be eternally grateful (again, up to you)

personality swap? or, if this one would be too hard,
cuteness agression
Again, sorry for the kind of obscure ask. I hope you have a good day ^-^

Hope you don't mind that it's dark! I tried to strike the right balance of Arthur being a joyous lunatic (in the lovecraftian definition) and Kayne (Nyarls) being desperate, angry, and regretful

Anyway thanks so much for your prompt!

Implied characer death is for John, but it's only hinted at hence me choosing not to use Archive warnings.

Work Text:

He paused, observing the familiar room in the familiar house taking a moment to watch the two within. They hadn't noticed him yet. 

“You fucking need to get your shit togther, Arthur,” Nyarlathotep hissed grabbing Arthur by his collar.

Arthur giggled in reply. “Oh, do I? Why’s that I wonder? Is it because I’m all you have left?” he quirked an insanely smug eyebrow. “Is it because,” and Arthur leaned in, “You’re going to die without me?” 

“Fuck you!” Nyarlathotep growled. He shoved the human away. Arthur fell to the ground, unable to contain his laughter now, rolling in it. He barely avoided bashing his head into the coffee table. “Look at you! Are you afraid Nyarls? The ‘Crawling Chaos!’ The ‘Herald of Azathoth!’ Where’s your godly powers? Where’s that pretty music? Why don’t you play some for me?” 

Nyarlathotep seethed. “You little—” Then he took a few deep breaths, calming down. “I’m sorry. You’re right to be angry at me.”

“Angry!” Arthur exclaimed. “Oh no, my dear. How could I be angry at my saviour? Or are you just trying to soften me up?” he asked coyly. “Is this the part where you tell me what a good boy I’ve been? Pet my head, rub my belly, have me go fetch?” Arthur snickered. “Dog’s off the leash now, whirlwind.” Arthur pulled himself back up to standing, grinning intensely. 

“I didn’t want this for you,” Nyarlathotep said sincerely. “I didn’t know taking him would break you.”

“Hah!” Arthur spread his arms out. “Break me? Is it breaking if you made me into exactly what you wanted? Your happy little pianist to play harmony to your maddening flutes? Cheerful and so joyous worshiping at your feet! I’m PERFECT now. I’m beautiful.” 

“You are,” Nyarlathotep sighed, “You always were,” he added regretfully. 

“Sweet talker,” Arthur said as if he were pleased by the compliment, but there was very little reflected in his eyes.

Nyarlathotep closed the distance between them and took Arthur’s hand. “I saw it in the Gray Stone, Arthur. You’re the only one that can save me now.”

“Should I flip for it?” Arthur asked, batting his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Nyarlathotep’s grip on his hand tightened. “Arthur,” he said warningly. 

“It’s a two headed coin, love,” Arthur informed him innocently. “Can you really lose? Don't you always stack the deck?”

“I’ll give you—”

“What? Everything?” Arthur asked. He laughed and pulled his hands away starting to pace back and forth. “No. No, no, no, don’t you see? You already gave me everything. Everything is what broke me. Everything is worthless to me.” He pivoted and tilted his head in consideration. “You might try to give me nothing… but that isn’t much of a deal, is it?” 

“Arthur—”

“Come on! Whatcha got!? Surely a god will have no trouble to sway little old me!” Arthur couldn’t seem to contain his energy and danced over to the piano, sliding onto the bench. 

Nyarlathotep growled. 

“I’m your little pet, remember? A pretty bauble to hold as a keepsake,” And Arthur began to play. It wasn’t anything like music a human would enjoy. Discordant harmonies that would snap a human mind in two. 

But to a god it was utter perfection.

But Narlathotep was not pleased by his worshipper’s offering. He grabbed Arthur’s right hand, but the human continued on with the left, faster now. 

“God DAMN it Arthur!” Nyarlathotep yelled. He yanked the human hard and he spilled off the bench, his left hand sliding off the piano keys in a cacophonous scale. 

“Oh, sorry, are we playing a game?" Arthur asked from the floor, pinned down by Nyarlathotep. “Should I have had a mint? Will you kiss me now? Oh Nyarls, I—”

“J-just shut up,” the god stuttered. “Just let me goddamn think for a moment.”

“He’s the thinking man’s god,” Arthur joked.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Nyarlathotep realized with rising horror. “You ruined yourself on purpose!” 

“I fulfilled our deal, darling,” Arthur countered with a sweet smile. “You wanted me in your power? You have me. You wanted me as your devoted follower? You have me. You wanted to ruin me. I let you ruin me.”

“You’re mad.”

“Well, you call it madness,” Arthur giggled. “That's our song, well not OUR song. It was his song, and my song, but you took it from us, didn't you? I suppose it is our song after all. That's what you wanted, right?" 

“What I want is for you to save me,” Nyarlathotep said desperately, as if this shell was useful for anything but entertainment. 

“I know,” Arthur said genuinely. He was still pinned to the ground, but he leaned his head up to press his forehead against his god's. “And I let myself be broken and remade so perfectly because I knew I would never be able to do it like this,” he laughed sweetly. “Jesus Christ, the look on your face.” His sweet laughter became a horrible cackle. “The best thing is that I want to now!” tears were streaming down his face. “I want to save you so badly, my darling! It’s so funny! Isn’t it funny!?!?” 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Nyarlathotep hyperventilated. He pressed his forehead more firmly against Arthur’s. “This can’t be it. Come on. Come on. You’re stronger. You’re stronger than me! Is that what you want to hear? Fine! You win! The hope burns and it’s beautiful and you carry that hope in you. Give it to me, Arthur. Let me have some of your hope.” 

“Oh, Naryls,” Arthur said pityingly. “Don’t you understand? You burned it out of me.”

“Arthur!”

“Will you play me a song before you die?” Arthur asked, his beautiful ruined eyes wide with longing. “Won’t you let me hear it one more time?” 

Nyarlathotep tried to answer but suddenly he was caught at the neck. “No!” he tried to hold on as he was ripped away from Arthur.

“Stay there, kitten,” he ordered.

“Oh, but I’m supposed to stop you,” Arthur said, pulling himself up into a sit, leaning on the piano bench. “Shouldn’t I try? I am fond of him, you know.” 

“There’s no need, Artie, you'll see in a moment it’s just going to be me. I can rough you up a little if you want though!”

“Promise?”

“Oh, you are a tease,” he laughed and Arthur laughed in reply for the joy of it. 

Arthur was good and waited. He hummed a harmony to the screams in the next room. It was a beautiful song. 

“You are a different kind of Arthur, aren’t you?” Kayne asked with interest. He had finally finished off his whimpering alternate self. 

Arthur smiled at him coyly. “Flatterer.”

“You, you’re cute,” Kayne purred. He bent down, grabbing Arthur by the cheeks with one hand. “So cute I just want to bite you and make you scream and scream and scream.”

Arthur breathed in sharply with excitement. “Please?” 

“I really did do a number on you,” Kayne grinned. “You’re very pretty like this.” he released Arthur’s cheeks. 

“Pretty useless,” Arthur snickered. “I was supposed to stop you.” 

“Well pobody’s nerfect, primrose.” 

They both laughed a little too hard.

Kayne wiped a tear from his eye. He admired the kaleidoscope of Arthur’s broken irises. What a nice little detail. “It’s better this way. One of me is plenty to go around.” 

Arthur glared. “I don’t believe that. You’re going to leave me for some other Arthur. Say it ain’t so, darling.” he pleaded mockingly. “Say you’ll stay with me.”

“Hah! You really are crazy! No. No you’re right. You’re a passing fancy. I mean, the things he must have done to you to make you so darn cute!” Kayne gave up his resistance and aggressively pinched his cheeks. “Look at you! Absolutely senseless! Poetry in human form. Broken lines and imagery. A pretty dream. A symphony of a broken psyche.”

“Oh do go on.” 

Kayne gently bit his nose. “Alright, enough flirting. How exactly were you supposed to kill me anyway?”

“If I knew I would have done it by now,” Arthur rolled his eyes. “To him, or you, or both of you? All of you? Oh! You know exactly how, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kayne said, rewarding him with a rough tickling. “The you that figured it out wasn’t nearly as fun though.”

Arthur giggled, batting his hands away. When he was free he groaned. “That’s how you’re killing them! So I would have botched it anyway? All this and I didn’t even have to worry about it?” he laughed. “Oh well! I suppose this was easier than fighting. A lot more fun to watch it all fall apart.”

“So this is what nihilism looks like in an Arthur? God you’re a fascinating creature. Ugh, I almost want to keep you, what a wonderful keepsake you’d make.” 

“Aw, that was my nickname!” Arthur said in excitement. But his smile dimmed. “You’re not going to keep me though.”

“Of course not. Like you said, I have my own Arthur to get back to. Not as sweet, but a lot more useful,” Kayne chuckled darkly. “But I do like you my B# Arthur. Would you like anything before I go?”

“Can we play together?” And now Arthur’s eyes were misty.” I want to play music with you again. We haven’t in so long. I miss it.” 

Kayne kissed his forehead. “Of course, Maestro. Go to your piano.”

Arthur got up and sat on the bench, facing the piano.

Kayne sat at the end of the bench, facing the opposite direction so that he had enough room for his flute. 

“Follow my lead, Arthur. Let’s make something beautiful.” 


When it was finished, Kayne stood. Arthur was collapsed against the piano. The god checked his pulse. Still alive. Even torn apart, Arthurs were resilient. He sighed and pushed the broken thing’s hair out of his face. He wondered if there was any mind left. Usually, he killed spare Arthurs, but he decided to let this one dream, this one’s dreams had to be as beautiful as his songs. 

Kayne huffed in amusement. He stood up straight, humming to himself.

It was a catchy tune.

He snapped and moved on to the next hunt.