#--but the one they trust the most is the guy on the left !

[thepossummoldypasta]

Hidden In The Woods

In the woods around Hawkins there is a van, and in that van lives an Eddie. Not a nasty beat-up van in constant need of repair, nor is it a creepy van that looks like it belongs to a serial killer; It’s Eddie's van and that means comfort. It has a perfectly undented body painted green and a mattress in the back. Or well, he doesn't actually live in the van. It's a nice van sure but Eddie lives in a doublewide trailer with his uncle, not his van–no matter how often they joke about it. 

(and there is a small chance he’s lying when he says it doesn't constantly break down)

He’s heading to his van now actually. 

Eddie longs for the ability to teleport at times like this; he’s trudging through the woods after a particularly fucked drug deal, and all he wants is to be in the back of his beloved shitbox, wrapped in blankets and smoking a joint. 

But Eddie can't magically teleport to the van and he also can’t ban Tommy Hagan from buying his weed–who was a major ass today by the way–because he gets most of his income from the jerk. 

He also can’t park closer to where he deals, which sucks. Eddie knows Hopper looks for his van parked on the side roads, so woods it is. Boo.

It's not that much farther….

And it's a nice day...

Plus the trees are pretty…

Eddie loves fall: the trees light up so magically in the sunbeams like a leafy fire, he sees more gray squirrels dancing about the forest floor this time of year, and Halloween is just awesome. 

This Halloween especially. He led a bitchin’ Halloween one-shot with his new DnD club this year and nothing could sour his mood for almost a week afterward. Even though there was some weird pumpkin blight that year that meant no jack-o-lanterns and the controlled burns in the woods behind Forrest Hills kept him up at night all that month. 

Plus he had a really good fall break so far. 

Okay, maybe things aren't sooooo bad. Trust a walk in nature to clear his head. Now that he’s calmed down Eddie can appreciate how nice everything is. 

Wait.

Eddie definitely didn't leave the back of the van open when he left.

Maybe things are shit and Eddie is an idiot. 

Fuck 

He’s lanky and gangly and has no weapon to defend himself with, but Eddie still creeps closer to the doors. 

Hagan couldn't have gotten here before Eddie, so he’s probably not going to get jumped for selling him overpriced weed. Maybe a really smart, really lucky,  raccoon just so happened to get the door open? More likely Eddie opened the damn thing himself, completely forgot about it, and is now making mountains out of molehills…

He props a hand on the closed door and peeks around it into the dim back. And promptly reels back in shock falling flat on his ass. 

It's a total Occam's Razor moment. The easiest and most simple solution is that the universe hates Eddie Munson. Because that's definitely Steve Harrington in the back of his van. He’s snuggled deep into Eddie’s blankets and smelling distinctly more omega than the last time he saw the guy. But it's Steve alright. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck 

What the fuck is Steve Harrington doing in the back of Eddie’s van? He’s never even had a conversation with the guy!

What do you do in this situation! 

Steve’s obviously nested back there, and if He was completely scentless before the fall break he’s gotta be fresh off his presentation heat, so like hell is Eddie going to go barging in–that's a surefire way to get his face ripped off–but Eddie also needs to get in that van eventually! 

He Raises back up on shaky legs, poking his head fully into the back; and takes another good, hard, look. 

There is still a person in the back of his van. A whole-ass person who wasn't in his van when he left. A person who is without a doubt, Steve. 

A rustle of movement, a quick shifting of blankets, pulls Eddie back to reality. There’s a cute little chirr from the nest followed swiftly by chestnut waves of hair shimming out into the open. Eddie isn't even given time to react before doe-eyes bleary with sleep blink down at him. 

“Eddie!�� 

And oh isn't that the sweetest little chirp. Eddie watches in astonishment as the omega wiggles to prop himself up against the back of the driver's seat, chirping adorably all the while.  Eddie can't decide if he’s more mystified by The Prettiest Boy in Hawkins™ cuddled up back there, or That he knows Eddie’s name. 

Now that the omega isn't completely cocooned, Eddie can smell that faintest hint of mint that Steve is throwing into the air paired with heady lavender and it draws him in. Before he even realizes he’s followed his nose and clambered into the back of the van… his van. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie starts slowly. Are you comfy?” It's an innocent enough question. Hopefully, if he plays it casually, Steve won't decide Eddie’s a threat and rend him to dust for being in the poor Omega’s space.  

Steve didn't seem to understand at first cooing a cute, drawn-out  “Hi, Eddie” but eventually he blinked owlishly and replied with a smile “So cozy”. 

“That’s nice sweetheart, but how bout we get you to your nest, hmm?” the alpha tries to suggest. Oh but now Steve looks a bit confused; drawing his brows together and pouting. 

“Nest? ‘M in my nest?” Steve says (well actually he whines it, but Eddie is trying to ignore that lest his heart break). Crap what does he do now?

“I–I know you’re nesting right now, uh–but wouldn’t you be–wouldn't you feel better at home?” Eddie reasons. 

“But there’s no nest there!” Steve whines again “They wont let me have a nest! I wanna stay here” 

“Okay, Okay” Eddie soothes in a hushed voice,” you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to sweetheart” Eddie is in so much trouble. Now that he knows Steve won't be pissed at him for being so close, Eddie’s having a hell of a time not being closer.  

Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.  

Eddie coos from a distance until the whines and whimpers peter out and are replaced by soft sleepy snuffles. 

“How did you even get here, big boy?” Eddie questions. The thought has been plaguing him, what happened while he was away?

“I was taking a walk” Steve starts, he lays his head down and his eyes flutter closed before he continues. “I needed to get away and I went into the woods. I got turned around but you saved me.”

“I saved you?” How the hell did he do that? 

“Mmm hmmm, I smelled ya” Steve hums” smelled so good so I followed.” ok, even more confused now. Eddie has an…unconventional scent–basil and tobacco leaf–he can't imagine someone trekking through the woods to find something that smells like pasta sauce and cigarettes. And how long was Steve lost in the woods, how long was he wandering, cold and alone, with only a scent trail for comfort. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Uh yes?” Eddie focuses back on reality, ready to face whatever he’s about to be asked.

“If I’m sleeping beauty, why didn't you wake me with a kiss?” nope not ready for that. 

“Would you? Uh Do–did you want me to?” Steve nods against the soft blanket pillowed underneath him.  

Oh. 

Eddie feels his resolve crack and threatens to shatter. He can't take advantage of Steve when he’s so vulnerable. Is he vulnerable? Steve isn't still in heat, his mind is sound. But he is upset.  Best to leave it be for now. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” 

Dang it.

Steve shoots up–ramrod-like–to nod ecstatically. Eddie's resolve shatters.  Absolutely not helped by Steve’s little please, please, pleases. 

“Okay” 

It's not like there's anyone around to judge him.

It’s like the movies, the way they lean in close and steal each other's breath. Steve tastes like honeyed sunshine. It sweetens the omega’s lavender-mint tea smell in a way that Eddie knows he’ll crave till the day he gets buried six feet under.  Eddie can't tell where he ends and his darling omega begins, drawn so close together that their purrs rattle in both chests. 

Only the lack of oxygen drives them apart, though Eddie tries to fight it. 

“I’ll do better next time princess” the alpha rumbles with care. 

They seal the deal with another perfect kiss. 

Hell yeah.

================================================

based on this post Special thanks to @starshideurfics for inspiring me to have Eddie call Steve sleeping beauty like a SIMP

[mblue-art]

out w these tall clowns 🌲🌸

[aniesvision]

𝟐𝟕- 𝑮𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕'𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉

𐂃 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒋𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅, 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎, 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒆𝒚𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒃𝒚'𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔, 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑺𝒂𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒃𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔... 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂

Colby|Reader|Matt

🍂

-And tonight... we're playing with the ouija board.

-Oh, great. You guys never do the ouija board, but the only day I'm here...

I shake my head, rubbing my face in anticipation. I've been talking to Sam and Colby about a collab since we met. I'm a huge horror movie fan, but seeing actors on TV is one thing, the other is seeing things in person, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to be a believer yet.

It was one of the special halloweek videos, so besides me, the triplets were in the episode, all of them as scared as I was to explore the mysterious school Sam and Colby recently bought. Yes, bought it. It's literally their place now, which is insane.

I'm close with Matt, Nick, and Chris as well, they were the reason I met Sam and Colby. We're all good friends, but I'm not sure that's all I can say about my relationship with Matt, although I have no idea what we are.

We separated to explore the school, trying to find any evidence that showed us why the place was haunted. After a while, we played a few games like basketball to know which one of us was going to use the ouija board. How funny is it that me and Matt were the chosen ones?

Colby explains to the camera what we are about to do, all of us getting into the boiler room, supposedly the most haunted room in all school, and soon enough me and Matt were left alone in the dark space.

-I don't wanna do this. -I say, sitting down on the floor in front of the board, my hands shaking in fear.

-Trust me, I don't wanna do this either. -Matt sits in front of me.

The only light illuminating the room was the flash from Matt's phone so we could see the letters on the board. One camera was positioned on top of a chair, pointing at us.

I take a deep breath, placing my fingers on top of the indicator.

-There's no running back now, I guess. -I bite my lips, waiting for Matt to do the same.

His fingers touch mine and he starts asking questions about the place, but nothing changes.

-I heard that there was a principal here, can we talk to you? -Matt asks, looking around even though it is all dark.

-Or maybe a woman, we love women. -I joke, trying to hide how scared I was.

Matt laughs, about to say something back, but our fingers move to Yes. I feel chills, my mind spinning with the change in scenario. It had to be Matt pranking me, there was no way this was real.

-Holy shit. -I whisper, my voice shaky.

-Are you the one in charge here? -Matt asks again.

I wondered how could he still act so nonchalant, he was clearly meant to do this shit.

The indicator stays in Yes.

-Do you like it here? That's why you're still in charge?

It starts moving again. Y. O. U.

-You?

-Maybe she likes you. -I whisper, giggling and stopping when I hear a crack. -Did you hear that?

-Are you the one making noises? Do you want us to leave?

Nothing.

-We just want to understand what's happening here, can you help us? Maybe talk about what makes this place so haunted?

Y. O. U.

-Matt, I think she really does have a crush on you.

-Shut up! -He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

I bet his cheeks are red like tomatoes right now.

-I think she means that you're so handsome that all the ghosts are coming here to haunt this place. Maybe it is your fault that this place is haunted.

It's just too funny to mess with Matt, and so easy to make him feel all flustered that even in the dark I know he's all shy.

-You're so unserious.

We asked a few more questions but got no more answers and the noises were creeping me out so we decided to get out of there. We took the camera and said goodbye before letting go of the ouija board and walked to the safe room to find the rest of the guys.

-How was it? -Colby asks, pointing another camera at us.

-We discovered the principal was a woman who happened to have a huge crush on Matt.

I put the board on a desk, smiling as I heard Matt's complaints behind me.

🍂

We ended our part of the video with Sam and Colby and left the school. Matt drove us to their place, where I was supposed to sleep since it was almost morning already.

I was happy with taking the couch, so I changed and got ready to sleep in Matt's bathroom since it was the closest. Nick and Chris immediately went to their rooms, and when I got out of the bathroom Matt was waiting to come in. I smile at him, stepping to the side.

-Good night, Matt, try not to fuck any ghosts tonight.

His eyes widen, eyes rubbing his eyes as I laugh.

-That's insane. I'm not into ghosts like that.

I cross my arms, turning around to look at him, his cheeks turning pink just like I imagined they were back in the boiler room.

-I hope not.

He rolls his eyes with a smile, putting some toothpaste on his brush.

-You know you don't need to be jealous of ghosts, right?

-I'm not. -I shrug, leaning against the wall.

-I think the ghost wasn't the only one with a crush on me. -He smirks, setting the brush down and looking at me.

-So you confirm the ghost had a crush on you.

I raise an eyebrow at him, his smirk growing even more.

-I don't know, but unfortunately for her, I already have someone in mind. And she's not dead.

Fuck. I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to feel butterflies with this.

-That's a good sign. But I think you should tell her before she is dead, you know? Fighting a ghost for your attention is obviously hard.

Oh my God. Where did the confidence come from?

-Looks like it. Actually, that was kind of scary, I think I need some company tonight.

He's not serious. And the way he's looking at me? Maybe he knows a little too well how to intimidate me, in the best way possible.

Waiting for him in his room makes me even more nervous. Am I really about to share a bed with him? Does it mean anything?

My heart almost stops when he locks the door, takes a seat next to me, and looks at me with a serious face. His gaze is so intense that makes me anxious, a small smile slowly growing on his lips before he raises his hand to my cheek and pulls me closer. Without saying anything, he kisses me. It's delicate and sweet until he pulls away.

-Do you really think that ghost was into me, though?

I hit his arm playfully, rolling my eyes and laying down sideways, giving him

my back.

-You're an idiot. -I giggle, hearing him chuckle.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @mattsfavbigtitties @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @sturnioloblues @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @sharkcat1928 @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @s1ut4chris @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @jupiter1700 @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sophsturns @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh

[maxdibert]

Hi! Could you tell me your top 5 least favorite Harry Potter characters and why?

My 5 most hated characters in Harry Potter are:

5 - Molly Weasley: I can’t stand this woman. I can’t stand how she acts like a morally superior, pure-blood yet holds endless prejudices, especially (and mostly) toward other, younger women. I don’t like her tradwife vibe, and I don’t like how overbearing and suffocating she is. Seriously, in real life, I’d feel the urge to tell her off—she’s that typical annoying woman who doesn’t know where the boundaries are.

4 - Remus Lupin: Zero sympathy for a man almost forty who got a 24-year-old girl pregnant and then abandoned her. Remus Lupin is a coward and a piece of trash, a bullying accomplice who keeps his head down regarding his own actions and needs a 17-year-old to teach him a lesson in manhood. I really wish Tonks had left him and taken off with Teddy to get as far away as possible from that pathetic excuse for a person.

3 - Dumbledore: Starting with the fact that the entire problem of the story basically stems from his irresponsibility with Tom Riddle, which already showed that he was a terrible teacher. He only shows concern for students who can serve his purposes or suck up to him, and his involvement throughout the story shows a moral stance I find nauseating. I mean, he’s a guy who has the nerve to lecture his former students who “chose the wrong path,” but when those same students were under his care, he constantly neglected and rejected them just because they didn’t belong to a certain house. He had the audacity to call Severus Snape “miserable” when it was Dumbledore himself who allowed Snape to be bullied and almost killed without lifting a finger to stop it or punish the bullies. This same Dumbledore scolds Draco Malfoy for not trusting him when from Draco’s first day at Hogwarts, all he saw from the old man was favoritism toward a certain house and certain students, completely ignoring the rest. Honestly, I’d have banned him from teaching. There’s a lot said about Snape as a teacher, but Dumbledore was responsible for everything, allowed terrible things to happen, and turned his back on many vulnerable children and teenagers. Then he acted all surprised when they ended up in bad places. Screw him, hypocritical old man.

2 - Ginny Weasley: The “I’m not like other girls,” the “shut up, Hermione, you don’t know anything about Quidditch,” the “everyone look at me, I hex people, I’m one of the boys, I’m not vain but I’m hot, but I’m not prissy,” the “I make fun of girls who are pretty, flirty, and feminine because I’m a textbook pick-me girl” who is shoved into the end of the series. She’s a character who didn’t matter at all throughout the story; she’s barely mentioned in some books, but suddenly she’s Harry’s love interest because J.K. Rowling needed all her characters to end up married with 468749284 kids, and Harry needed to be part of the Weasley family. So, they had to do something. Ginny is a terrible character, going from irrelevant to some sort of Mary Sue who even the Slytherins drool over and who, of course, is not a “typical girl” because being a “typical girl” in Rowling’s world is somehow the original sin. So, she’s great at sports, hexes people, pulls pranks because she’s so cool, uh uh uh, she’s not like the others, uh uh uh, but she has internalized misogyny that you can smell from here to China. Honestly, someone should have slapped her for being so damn stupid.

1 - James Potter: There’s nothing I haven’t already said about James Potter. He’s a character who really grinds my gears because they try to sell him as some kind of hero, but he was just a spoiled rich kid who decided to torment a poor, vulnerable boy simply because that boy was friends with his crush. He used his social power and status to get away with all the crap he pulled, attacked in groups, lied to his girlfriend saying he’d stopped bullying people when he really hadn’t, and when he was supposed to be locked up in a house with his wife and son, he was off fooling around with his best friend. James Potter was an ass, and defending him is defending classism, elitism, and whitewashing social classes. I’m not going to explain why.

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Oooough so um. You know the "Eggman finds and raises tails instead of Sonic" AUs and how that usually fucks up the little guy in a special way? Haha so I had an idea like that but with Nine

(Bear with me this is like half the shit my brain came up with on a 30 min car ride there's already so much abt this in my head help)

So a scrawny kit without a Denizen number was detained in Dr.Babble's district due to repeated offenses of wandering off the path and also under the suspicion of stealing and repurposing council robot parts (all strictly prohibited)

After some back and forth and confirmation that he has no affiliation with the resistance, or even a family house to be sent back and locked up in, the Council concludes he could be useful to them. The little thing is smart, knows his way around machines (if the reports are to be belived), is quiet and no one would miss him if things went wrong. He was a freak snatched off the street anyway.

Of course, their first thought was to fully robotize him, and have him do some basic maintenance or reconnaissance alongside Rusty, one of their only actual still standing successful robotized projects, but Mr.Dr. objects, saying it would be a waste if they turned him into a mindless drone doing basic work. So they agree (to disagree) to give it some time and let them see what they're working with, it's not like the little guy is expected to be somewhere else.

After a few days of not-so-subtle emotional manipulation and observation of the fox at work, it's concluded (albeit very begrudgingly) that he has the skills and intellect to match and even surpass all five members of the council.

Of course, that's a threat and a very high liability if the the little freak gets any funny ideas, so the council actually has to play smart instead of brute force their way to subjugation like usual.

A deal is proposed.

If the little fox, now their ninth robotization project in wait, agrees to pledge his alliance directly under the thumb of the council and is fine with the loss and metallic replacement of just a few body parts and vital organs, in turn, he doesn't have to mingle with the measly and pathetic citizens bellow ever again, gains full reign over all of the resources available (with strings attached of course) to keep the five men at full power and finally destroy any resistance once and for all.

The kit, now marked 09 (or simply 9 for colloquial convenience) accepts the deal without much hesistation, the loss of his vital organs seemed to spook him the most, but it's not like he cares about anyone in the city, or vice versa. As far as he sees it, losing his biological arms and jaw is hardly a difficult deal for being sound and secure, fed and housed, protected from any and all elements, and left alone for most of his days. He now lives in the walls of the Tyrants' castle yes, but it's not like he has any reason to feel bad or like he betrayed anyone.

Not like he ever knew anything else but cold pavement and eye-blinding xenon in a city where you can only trust yourself. It's either dying under the suffocating regime or taking any chance given to swing above it. He just got lucky, and it was about damn time he did.

The resistance is nothing but a desperate cult of people deluding themselves with unreachable fantasies and sending their followers on suicide missions. The citizens nothing but ants there to keep the machine running and make all the infrastructure around them useful, and 09, finally, stood above both.

[simplynims]

Polycule D.A.M.N Crew Headcanons

Was going through @polydamnory posts for the D.A.M.N polycule and it's inspired me to write down some of my own headcanons for these guys. Enjoy!

Dear and Damien are both the chefs of the polycule, Dear is probably the most trusted person to cook in Damiens kitchen unsupervised.

Huxely likes giving extra hugs to his partners whenever they're stressed out about something but it's really just an excuse to pick them up and drag them away from their laptop/whatever they're working on so they can get some proper rest. Has done this on both Damien and Freelancer when they both desperately needed a break from cram studying especially if the usual pleads to take a break don't intially work.

Dear has magic hands where whenever they run their fingers through their partners hair, they all melt at their touch. They turn to pudding as soon as those head rubs happen. They've actually helped a lot with migraines that Freelancer and Damien have.

Gavin, Freelancer and Dear have competitions sometimes to see who can fluster Lasko up more in one day. They all think he's adorable when he's choking on his words and trying to come up with a coherent sentence after mercilessly being teased. So far Gavin and Dear are neck in neck with these challenges.

Speaking of Gavin and Dear, Dear I feel like is someone who doesn't get flustered often which Gavin sees as a personal challenge to fluster them up whenever he gets the chance. Dear finds Gavin very cute whenever he tries to and flirts right back with that same energy.

This is more of a personal headcanon but from tallest to shortest it's Huxely, Dear, Gavin, Damien, Freelancer, and Lasko.

Lasko manages to get everyone into DnD and the polycule tries their best to schedule at least one session a month depending on their own schedules. Lasko usually DMs but Dear also DMs so Lasko can have a chance to play too. Gavin and Freelancer both shamelessly flirt with the DM no matter who it is and whenever it's Lasko it usually throws him off for a good minute or so.

Lasko gets cold very easily so he usually goes to Damien for cuddles when he's feeling extra frosty. Damien doesn't mind and likes having Lasko in his lap while he works if it keeps him warm.

Following up with that headcanon, Damien gets Lasko a shit ton of warm clothes, blankets and socks so he can wear em around the house around fall and winter because of how easily Lasko gets cold.

Freelancer smacks all their partners asses equally and with accurate precision.

Huxely I feel like would be a really good gardener for vegetables and fruits, Dear helps him with growing them. Every few months when certain fruits are in season, they bring em back to share with the polycule and make desserts outta them. Dear makes some killer peach cobbler, apple pies, strawberry pastries etc outta them and there's usually nothing left by the end of the week.

Gavin likes to playfully push Damiens buttons. Right when Damien looks like he's about to blow, Gavin kisses him and it gets to Damien every time lol. Gavin finds it highly amusing.

Freelancer likes giving gentle love bites to all their partners, it's not sexual all the time but whenever they're cuddling one of em or hugging them they have specific spots they like to go for.

For example, Freelancer likes giving love bites on Huxelys and Dears chests. For Damien it's his arms and chests if he's the bigger spoon while cuddling. For Gavin and Lasko it's their necks or arms, whichever is more accessible at the moment.

Dear most of the time is really good at hiding their emotions whenever they're stressed about something or just feeling sad in general but Huxely can pick up the signs pretty quickly. When it comes to his partners he's very observant and can tell when somethings off with any one of them and that includes Dear. Cuddling sometimes turns into a good cry sesh depending on how severe whatever is affecting Dear is.

Freelancer I headcanon as a little bit of a goofball and loves making their partners laugh, it's a wonderful feeling to see nearly all of the polycule wheezing and laughing at their stupid lil jokes and they take heavy pride in it.

[avastyetwats]

This was all so much. Too much, quite fucking honestly. MI6 was lying about the entire mission? Charles Vane wasn’t the villain and traitor they were making him out to be?. Or rather that's what Jack Rackham wanted him to believe. He knew he shouldn't trust his words right away, especially without proof, but something deep within Flint was telling him to believe him over MI6, the company he'd been with for years now. Because he wasn't stupid. He knew MI6 had secrets of their own, things they wouldn't even tell their most trusted agent, and the story involving Charles Vane sounded suspicious from the minute he heard it. Jack seemed genuine and sincere with everything he'd just told Flint, but there was the possibility that he was simply that good of an actor. Although, it was quite the wild lie if he made all of that up. There was just this nagging feeling inside of Flint telling him that maybe Jack was right... because even when talking to Charles, he just didn't get the sense that he was a villain.

Fuck. This was way too fucking complicated.

"Prague?" Flint questioned, brow quirked, wondering if he could trust him on that. But at some point, in a few hours, he'd have confirmation on that. Or at least he'd be able to know if he was heading in that direction. Though when he told him not to trust anyone, his heart dropped into his stomach. Not even M? Or Q? Would they really lie to him? They weren't just his most trusted allies, but Flint considered them his friends. "You're telling me not to trust them... but you want me to trust you?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll meet him in Prague. But if this is some kind of fucking trick, if you're lying, Rackham..." He told him, the look in his eyes threatening as he leaned over the table, reaching into his pocket to slide Jack's phone to him. "Send a message to Vane. Tell him there's a tracking device on his palm. Microscopic. It can only be removed with hot water," a pause. "Very hot water." He waited for him to do that, ignoring the banging on the door that was growing louder. And just as Jack seemed to finish sending the message, the agents burst in, prompting Flint to take back the phone and sneak it into his pocket. "Alright, Rackham. If that's all you're going to give me, then I'll have to take it." He suddenly changed his tone of voice, arms folded over his chest again.

"Why the fuck did you lock the door, Agent?"

"Well, I didn't need you two coming in beating on him again. Wanted to make damn sure of that."

"Did he talk?"

"He gave me enough." He shrugged.

"What did he tell you? Where's Vane?"

He looked over at Jack for a moment, then back at the Agent. "France." He lied. "He doesn't know exactly which part. Seems Vane is keeping him in the dark, too. Whoever this Lowe guy is, he doesn't want Vane talking to anyone." Another lie, but it was to help protect Jack while also placing most of the blame on Lowe. "I'm heading out. No one is to harm either prisoner, do you understand me? If I find out they've any new bruises or any marks at all, I'll see to it both of you are left with nothing." Then he straightened and patted their shoulders. "I'm off!"

Oh he should be very afraid of Anne Bonny. Jack had the brains but she was the muscle. It didn’t mean he didn’t struggle against the men that had him though, and Anne was furious. Her nose was dripping with blood, and it took four men to subdue her. She snarled. “ Don’t you touch him! Jack, just do as he says! “ She spit blood out onto one of the agent’s shoes.

Jack grumbled. “ I told Chaz we should’ve stocked more boys. Men like you like them. — ow!! “ He was thrown down into the chair in his main office, and any sound of him hurting sent Anne to her feet, scuffling again. But the criminal laughed, his bloodied face coated in a shit eating grin. “ He was right too. You came right into our little rouse. “

[oklotea]

Sooooo I haven't moved on from the trolls world tour bounty hunters.

The reggaeton trolls and their really cool designs and music....

Hickory and Dickory's entire thing with playing the long haul in trying to get close to poppy to steal her string.......

THE KPOP TROLLS AND THEIR MISSED POTENTIAL AND AND THEIR DESIGNS AND THEY'RE REALLY CUTE AND LOVELY

And CHAZ THE FUCKING SMOOTH JAZZ TROLL!??!??!??!?! need I say more. I mean just look at him.

I am going to start. A fandom. Surrounding these guys. Just watch me.

They are so silly and I love them

[dbphantom]

Hate having adhd went to go work on my fallout modpack, got distracted while going to disable the steam overlay, ended up in the points shop, went to go edit my profile, decided to change my pfp, found a buried folder I forgot existed, found some old Veneer art I forgot existed, spent 45 minutes looking at all the old photos, STILL HAVE NOT TOGGLED ONE SIMPLE OPTION THAT SHOULD'VE TAKEN 30 SECONDS AT MOST

[tacticalthaumaturge]

I'm starting to see seemingly unironic posts to the tune of "Biden's useless because he's not taking advantage of the 7/1/24 presidential immunity decision to persecute his political enemies" and

Is that *really* the hill the tumblr left wants to die on? Is it really? That authoritarianism is good, actually, as long as its one of "our guys" doing it?

All I'm saying is that if we're gonna clown (because we gotta process somehow), just be mindful of Poe's Law. And if you're being serious here... the idea that unchecked power is a good thing, actually, is one I don't see compatible with a pluralistic society, and I'm curious why you think it is.

[spotaus]

Okay-

Leaving this one as short as possible so I can write the Killer stuff before you clock out for the night- but!!!

Dude, absolutely canon that Killer had the idea first! He's such a goober and would absolutely be like, 'we gotta get you working on this!' but Killer and Nightmare both know Killer's got some obvious tells once you're around him long enough, and so it's only partially helpful. (killer's the kinda guy to do 2 lies in one round or smth just to throw Night off and give him a challenge). And!! night recognnizing that Ccino is probably the best bet for this sort of thing because of the whole Lied to Nim thing!! If he can parse out Ccino's lies, he can do it to any stranger!

(And yessss, Killer getting s better glimpse at Ccino through this too! And them all guessing with eachother- (Do you think Night participated as well? it's good 'team bonding', even if Ccino probably already knows all of Night's lies and truths lol-) Killer getting excited guessing for Ccino's rounds is so so cute and adorable-

he lil helmet for Error is So cute- And the idea that Night and Dust are just out horse-riding is such a nice idea. Cuz Nightmare would adore that, and Dust would have fun too!

(Good gods I forgot about Dream- But yeah, 3rd child, he can't be doing that again! The twins were already so much! And dang, him and Killer potentially having a kid? oh Ccino would be a wreck on SO many levels. I imagine that if that ever happened he would be a mess for the first time in a long time. Not because he has to raise another kid (though that is a worry) but because. What if something happens to him and Killer? What if what happened to him happens again? What if they die and leave their babybones all alone in the big wide world? Killer never fully recovered from the injury Dream dealt to him, and Ccino couldn't fight to save his life, should he start trying to train- Just this spiral of worry that something would go horribly wrong. I get the feeling if they ever had the conversation this is something Ccino would try to bring up non-chalantly but end up cradled and tucked in Killer's arms because. Well. he buried that childish fear when he was 7. he couldn't afford to really think on it until now, and it's all just crashing down on him- Sorry that got angsty quick- but yeah. i write Ccino as being so composed, but I think it's just because he doesn't ever give himself to really think about it until a long long long time after it happens, and then he goes weak in the knees and needs like 4 days straight of recovery <3)

Night's face was always going to be a big motif in the story! (masks and all) and ur right with Reaper too! Time crunch really puts that trust to the test!!!

Borrowed time.... exactly.... Yeah he had the most caring family in the whole story, (and I LOVE stubborn denial Phantom-) and to not endanger and burden them anymore he left!

Omg omg omg the bits about his final reuniting with them?? I'm gonna sob- Phantom always looking out, hoping for his brother to come back every single storm?? hello??? I'm losing it over here?? And his little look to the sound of horses only forit to be Dust, and Phantom rushes over and sees he's real and really there and??? AND- HELLO?????? Okay. Sorry. I'm normal. BUt yeah, his family is so so so happy to see him again and there are a bunch of tears and hugs and Dust gets smothered by his mom and brother for like a solid 20 minutes. And after a bit, it's the most relaxed Nightmare has EVER seen Dust. Like. Ever. Just chilling, maybe even letting his little (big) bro carry him like old-times while he prepares some lunch, and Nightmare is sitting there in their family room with Dust's parents, lowkey feeling like an intruder. The little soft introduction (Dust is one of his big brothers) and the family greeting him warmly and even pride coming from them for Dust having, like you said, been able to trust himself around people again!! And Night is kinda pulled into the family a bit, as they wind down there's smalltalk and discussions and only when the question comes up for how they met does Dust look to Night for approval to explain. And Night gives it.

And ough. The idea that his parents would ask, 'Well now Dust, where did you find this polite young man?' And Dust looking to Nightmare, getting a go-ahead, before debating how much he wants his parents to have a heart attack. Then he explains that Night actually broke him out of prison, to which Night sputters a quick 'Wait, wait that's not-' before Dust laughs and apologizes, and then explains the whole thing. How he managed his magic, how he ended up working in the market, how that bit of time where he didn't send anything he was in jail because the royal guard caught him during a raid, then how Nightmare was the King and hired him on straight out of prison and helped him turn his life around again and find a place to call his own. How he's a Knight, and an oath to protect Nightmare always. How he lives there and won't be moving home, but he'll visit as often as he can. he's sorry for being away so long. There are mixed responses, ranging from his dad's face going pale, to his Mother gasping, to his Brother joking 'MY lazy brother?' at the more wild parts? But by the end they all agree they're just happy to see him alive and well, and thriving. Dust knows the doors are always open to him (and any of his new brothers if they get the chance). Dust (with an Okay from Night) offers them the same. Come visit the palace anytime. Please, do. More friendly faces would be nice. (Though he fears what would happen if he put Error and Phantom into a room together. or Killer, for that matter. It'd be a chaotic interaction to say the least. Jealous younger sibling moments-)

Yesyesyes you get me. You understand! He thinks his soul is SO weird!!! The first time he saw it he panicked and he hates bringing it out, even when he's on his own! And!!! You picked up what I was putting down with Reaper and Geno, haha! I think it'd take like 15 billion years (exaggeration) for him to finally trust them enough to let them see his soul or even look at theirs, to be so intimate and vulnerable, but I think it'd kill him even more to hear Geno call it beautiful. Like. beautiful, of all things? it's weird and gross and unnatural- and Geno hushes him and says again that he thinks it's beautiful, and lively, and unique, just like Dust. (And Reaper has to call a time-out for them because Dust looks like he's deciding if he's going to murder Geno or make a run for the exit, purely out of embarressment and being overwhelmed by the compliments, and Geno looks like he wants to start making out w/ Dust and that would Not end well lmao-) Okay okay-

On this same topic, when Killer's soul is just. out there? In the open? Like. All the time? Dust is... weirded out. Big time. Because Killer's soul doesn't even look like a monster's, and there's just something about it that's freaking him out (internalized bias from his own soul methinks-) but he gets used to it over time, and in combats he's ironically usually the first to cover Killer if he needs it. Because that soul is just. There. Literally a giant target- He just gets protective-

Yeah!! I think I changed the context for the meeting aorund a bit lol, my apologies- I'm thinking the reuniting with Fresh might be slightly more interesting if it was semi-planned. Like, Error knows it's someone important to meet with (Geno planned it out with Nightmare, even though he's on thin ice) but not Who (Fresh doesn't cross his mind) but Dust being there was a crucial piece because. Well. Dust is magically strong, and he looks out for both Error and Night so of course he's there!

And yeah, The parasite learning its lesson and Quick is smth I think could be cool. Because it was such a random occurance at just the right time to fix the problem. Like. It's a moment where narratively such a big burden having such a quick fix is more fun and interesting, because then it lets the characters understand how to deal with it in the future, and lament that it didn't happen way sooner.

Fresh and Error are both so so ready for this hug. Error, despite being mad at Fresh, is much more willing to forgive him after Geno explained his end of the story. That Fresh didn't know he'd be getting back early. That Fresh tried desperately to hunt him down. That he tried to fix his mistake, so Geno didn't know until long after Error was already fully missing? He knows Fresh, and having any hope that Fresh was even half as torn up as Geno was enough for him to give that second chance. (Also I'm very wishy-washy on what activates Error's touch/magic pains so I apologize, but basically it's that when he's younger it's really bad. When he's older he makes himself compression gear to wear over his bones so the touch of another monster's magic resonates less, but he doesn't always wear it, so sometimes (like here) it still tries to act up and make him 'glitch' basically!)

Ehehehe--- I love these sillies- OKAY off to write about Killer! We'll see how long it ends up being!

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

Hi guys. So. Crazy Story. The crisis that stopped me from working on my banner art actually catapulted me into writing this drabble finally! (Also the wonderful @ancha-aus was also a life-saver and helped me hammer out a few plot points for this installment <3)

Currently my only context for this drabble is that Error is tiny, and ran away from home because Geno moved to Reaper's kingdom to make money to send back home, and Fresh spent too long away on his trip. Error was expelled from his magic academy and came home to an empty house, so he left! Now he's been on the road for about a month? Nightmare has been ruling for about 6-ish years now, almost 7.

(Hello @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hi guys!!!)

     The town was bustling. 

   Error had been through a lot of towns since he’d left. Big ones, small ones, ones he was convinced weren’t even towns at all, just a few barns in a general closeness to one another who decided they needed to call themselves something besides the outskirts. Those people had been particularly hostile to his passing through.

   And, lately, they’d been really weird. People staring at him when he’d walk on the streets, or pass by shops. When they saw he had money from a different kingdom (he didn’t even realize he’d left his own, but he figured it meant he was on the right path) they’d squeeze their faces like they bit a lemon and hastily take his coin. Like it was cursed, or something. They were lucky it wasn’t cursed, honestly. He could probably figure out how to do that.

    This town, though, was filled so full with people that he imagined they couldn’t look at him weird if they wanted to. 

   People were riding horses, chatting in the streets, all sorts of stalls and merchants were peddling goods, and he was almost positive he could hear music lifting down the street over the general drone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run into a place so busy. He’d always been told to stick to the side, out of the way, out of danger. 

   He didn’t have to listen to that anymore. Though, he did skirt the crowds. The mass of people seemed all too willing to bump shoulders or elbows with each other in the early morning sun, and the last thing he wanted was to have his magic act up in a crowd. He’d done well so far. 

   Every booth, every merchant, every passerby seemed jubilant, ebbing and flowing. It was like some sort of party. 

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

   Geno had taken him to see one once. Or, at least, the ruin of one. It hadn’t been too far from their home, and it was pretty abandoned and lonely. Plants had crawled up its walls, stones had fallen off in chunks, animals seemed to have deemed its high windows a perfect spot to build nests. It had been breathtaking, and ancient. 

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

   The walls were all in-tact, stones, an easy to look at grey, smooth and covered in little intricate carvings. Spells, he had to imagine, in some language he didn’t know. Curtains hung over the huge arched entrances, and heavy gates seemed to be lifted, the spikes at the base loomed over the heads of every passerby. 

   He couldn’t help but marvel. Was this a restoration, or maybe it was new. Some sort of imitation. Regardless, he found that his feet carried him to one of the entrances, which stood largely empty aside from some folks who looked strikingly like guards.

   Two of them stood, long spears in-hand. They both stood stock still as Error approached, and didn’t move a muscle as he passed them. They were strange, definitely different. Not at all the town guard he was familiar with. 

   The inside of the theatre was even more impressive. Rows and rows of stands seemed to line up either side. Huge tapestry hung from the high arches past those seats, and down the runways of the bleachers, all a bright teal and dark navy blue. They seemed fancy, and much newer than the curtains which had hung in the entrance. 

   Beyond the walkway where he stood, was a set of stairs which led down a level or so, before it leveled out into an open space. Sandy, and very flat. It seemed like there were people there, too. A much smaller crowd, but still a crowd nonetheless. 

   Error was almost amazed he’d not been stopped by someone yet. Whatever was going on seemed important, and so far in his experience, people did not like him sticking his nose into important business. 

   With that in mind, he decided he’d stick to the entryway for now. He leaned his bag up against the wall and watched from a position where the sun still shadowed his form. He was often grateful for his miscolored bones. It made hiding in the dark a whole lot easier. 

   It took a bit for him to really process what he was watching in the morning light. 

   There were four people sat on a sort of raised box toward the front of a stage. A huge stage, raised up off the sand with wood slats. They had a long-table before them, and quills and ink jars in-hand. Well, three were sitting. One was standing. But the point is, they were all watching the stage very attentively. 

   On-stage there was… basically nothing. Only a simple backdrop Error had to imagine was there at all times, because it looked like it was coated in sand, even from the distance where he stood.

   A person would enter the stage, the people sat on the box would speak to them, and then there was a flare of magic. Another. Another. And then they were dismissed. 

   It wasn’t until he really bothered to think about what magic was being cast that he realized those were extremely simple spells being used. Levitate, Create Water, Mimicry. Or Flame, Gust, Light. All just three easy spells, and then they were off-stage. That was taught magic. It gave him memories of his entrance exam to his school. He’d been way overqualified to get in, Geno taught him after all…

   But, no, this didn’t feel the same. There were plenty of people who seemed to stumble at spells they didn’t recognize, or who couldn’t muster a simple breeze. Then others who were very old and obviously skilled. Obviously they found the three spells to be child’s play. Like Error would. This was no entrance exam, so what-

   “Hey, pipsqueak, what are you doing there in the dark?” A voice startled him, and it took all of his willpower to avoid jumping away from its origin. 

   Error twisted rapidly, just in time to avoid the thrust of an elbow in his direction. 

   There was a monster there. Three, actually. Two lizards, both bright green and tropical, and one who looked more like a dragon. The green one closer to him must have spoken, because he laughed at Error’s flinch. 

   “Why are you bothering me?” Error shot back haughtily. 

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

   “Oh, so we’ve got a feisty little small fry here? Thinks he’s scoping out the competition?” The dragonish one hissed, voice deep. 

   The other green one tittered a giggle, “So cute! I can’t believe the King really decided to let just anyone try out for Royal Mage.” 

   Oh…

   The lizard before him seemed to take this silence as a weakness, and reached out quicker than Error could react. A flick to the middle of his forehead. 

   Error winced and pulled away, back and into the arena. He grit his teeth and clutched his skull, where at the same moment the lizard jumped back and shook their hand in the air a bit. His magic had reacted poorly again, and while it was better than it used to be, it still stung like 5 wasps touching down and stinging the same point all at once. 

   “Little freak.” Was all the monster hissed, before he fled. His two friends moving on behind him in confusion. Approaching the line to the stage. 

   Error stood there in the sun for a moment, rubbing at his forehead until the pain was more of a numb static. 

   If anything, he appreciated the little run-in with those wanna-bes. Now he knew exactly what this was, and why it had felt so familiar to him. 

   The Mage Trials. 

   Geno had to go through them, and he’s been very thorough about his every single detail while doing it. Even though he was the best mage Error had ever known, he’d still stressed and wrote page after page of plans and spells and had placed them into a folder that felt thicker than an encyclopedia. Geno had always been the only one of them who bothered studying. Fresh couldn’t go to school anymore, and Error… Well, Error didn’t need to. 

   Thinking about it, Geno had been very quiet about it, but Error had looked into his folder a few times. Just out of curiosity. It’d been split into three rounds, something Geno had said was standardized. The first was a test of someone’s basic magic skills, the second were more complex spells which the mage has practice in, and the third, the one that had given Geno the most grief, was the personal spell round. In the last one, there were no restrictions to what someone could do, so long as they had done the work themselves, and that it mostly used magic. 

   If he was right, and he usually was, then this was the first round. Eliminating those with nothing but a hope and a prayer in their pocket before they got embarrassed before the one looking for the Mage in the first place. In this case, whoever this kingdom’s king even was. 

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

   The line was already starting to get longer, and he didn’t want to be here until nightfall in a queue. He dusted off his scarf, his shoes, his bag, and set off into the bright sun to secure his place in this contest. No prep. No warning. Just with his raw skill and what he’d learned so far. Nothing could possibly go wrong. 

.

   Finally. 

   Error felt like it had been hours in the warm sun before he was finally up next. 

   He’d been watching, of course. Watching as the people before him were passed or failed. It was just as he’d expected, and he couldn’t help but be a bit giddy as the two green lizard who’d bothered him earlier both failed. Though their dragonish friend had passed, it was still enough of a victory for him.

   Along with that, he noticed that the three people sat were all in robes of nobles. Something the wealthy and lofty would think to wear in a blazing hot arena all day. The one standing, though, was wearing all black. A hood was over his head, but Error thought he might be some sort of cat-monster. Very stone faced, very still. The only time Error had seen him move was seemingly to veto whatever choice the other three were making. He thought it was interesting. 

   That didn’t matter, though. 

   Based on what he’d seen, these people wouldn’t have any qualms with his magic. He was much better than half the people who’d already been passed, and knew he could keep him calm up on the stage. It’d be just like his entrance exam. 

   He watched as the monster who’d gone before him, a skeleton who was twice his height and twice as animal-ish, bowed gratefully to the people on the boxes, the evaluators, and exited. She’d passed fairly easily, Error thought. Though, her focus seemed elsewhere based on how shaky the hold on her last flame had been. 

   “Next!” 

   The call was shrill, and Error had heard it over a hundred times already today, but this time it bounced in his ears as he lifted himself up the steps and strode onstage. 

   If he’d thought about it, he would’ve tried to find a place to stache his bag, but it was too late for that, and frankly he didn’t trust it not to get stolen once it was out of his sight. Not with how busy the city seemed. 

   When he was stood in the center of the stage, he looked out across the way to the evaluators. They seemed closer up here than they did when he was on the ground. Interesting. 

   “First spell,” The person on the far left called, though Error could tell now that it was a voice projection spell. So they didn’t strain their vocal chords, “ Levitate.”

   That was simple. One of the first spells he’d been taught as a kid. 

   His eyes skimmed briefly, there had been a few props on stage that he only noticed once he was closer that were meant to be used with this sort of spell, but Error wasn’t for that. Instead, he muttered the words under his breath, outstretched a hand, and felt his magic reach out around him. Beyond the stage. 

   There… There was a barrier of some sorts, pushing back against his magic, between himself and the evaluators. He furrowed his brow and urged his magic forward. He didn’t have to break through it. He just. Had to- His magic felt like it was looping and wriggling like a worm through the dirt, but when it broke through on the other end, it felt so much more clear. He could feel a potent magic there, something raw and wet, like the air before a storm. 

   That didn’t matter, though. None of it did, because he was on a mission. His magic finally found its target, the stacks of ink bottles which the middle evaluator had just before their parchment. The magic latched on, and Error finally allowed himself a grin as he tugged his hand upwards. They floated calmly into the air, three of them, and did a quick spinning motion, before settling back down just where he’d found them.

   He didn’t catch the looks on the threes faces, but he had to imagine they were priceless. He was more focused on letting the spell dissipate and preparing for the next. 

   It took a moment, before, “Second Spell,” They said, “Create Water.” 

   Another easy one. 

   Error held his hand out again, though this time his palm faced the sky rather than the ground. At the mutter of his words, he could feel the water manifesting. Tiny droplets leaking from his fingers and into the air above his open palm, where he let it gather into a nice, easy sphere. 

   It hovered, and for this one he could see the nods from the three evaluators. The fourth, the cat monster, didn’t move an inch. A good sign. 

   Error, after a breath, moved the orb of water and simply set it on the stage floor. If he had to release it, he didn’t exactly want to get his clothes wet. That orb tended to shoot outwards when he released it, and the water would go everywhere. 

   “Third spell,” They must’ve been contented with his simply setting down the water, for they continued, “Flame.”

   Ah, one of his favorites. He was never very good at it, of course, but it was certainly very fun. If nothing else it’d be a taste of his raw power.

   He rolled up his hanging sleeves, quickly using strands of string to wrap them in place, before he picked back up the water orb in one hand. With the other, he faced his palm toward the side of it, and spoke the words for the flame spell. 

   The heat gathered in his wrist, and all at once shot out of his palm, like a cannon blast. The heat was intense, and Error laughed quietly to himself in pure elation as the fire did exactly what he was hoping. All at once, his glasses fogged, and a burst of steam blew past his face, off to the exiting side of the stage. He’d evaporated his orb, no longer needing to risk someone seeing him fumble with it and soak himself. 

   He let the fire die after a few second, and quickly grabbed the hem of his scarf to wipe down his glasses from the fog left behind on their surface. 

   The moment the red rims were back on the bridge of his nose, the voice spoke up again. 

   “Name?”

   Error cleared his throat, before calling back his name in response. Just the first one, the last one didn’t matter anymore. 

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

   Error hadn’t heard them ask anyone else for their age, but he figured they’d noticed. How strong and talented he was at such a young age. 

  He puffed up his chest when he announced, “Twelve!” to the arena. 

   There were a few muffled murmurs from the line, but Error was too busy grinning across the way at the evaluators as they seemed to talk amongst themselves. 

   He was ready to hear the word that would mark him to continue. The next part was tomorrow, after this round was concluded and the king arrived. He’d heard about it in the line while he was waiting. 

   One of the evaluators lifted their gaze back to him. Opened their mouth.

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

   Error must’ve visibly glitched at the response, because one of the evaluators seemed to flinch. Ever so slightly. 

   “How come?!” Error called back, reservations immediately fleeing his mind.

   How could they disqualify him? He hadn’t heard them do that to literally anyone else so far today. 

   The evaluator on the far right spoke up, “Too young. Now please move off the-”

   Error might’ve let his mouth speak before his mind, if he hadn’t seen the way the mysterious cat monster seemed to slink forward. A simple tap to the evaluator’s side and they stopped mid-sentence, attention drawing to the person. 

   He waited with balled fists. Hoping, against it all, that this person was using his mighty veto powers to get him his passing review. 

   “The Knight wishes to speak to you further.” They said, when the person, the Knight, took a step back. “Exit the stage.” 

   Mm. 

   This was his chance. This was his moment. He was being allowed to move on, he was sure of it. It had to be. 

   He practically scrambled off the stage and down the steps, and found that the Knight had closed the distance very quickly. He gestured silently for Error to follow him off to the side of the arena, seemingly outside of the voice spell’s range, as the noise of magic and calling for the next viewer seemed all muffled and contained. 

   Something Error noticed about the guy, now that he was right beside him walking along, was also that he wasn’t a cat monster. No, he had some sort of mask shaped like a cat. Black spots painted on black fur, with piercing white eyelights hidden in the darkness cast by his black hood. A cloth mask covered the lower half of his face, so Error would’ve had no idea what kind of monster he was, if he hadn’t left his hands uncovered. They were grey and grimy, but they were most certainly bones. 

   The other thing he noticed, was the magic. That damp, airy magic was no-doubt from this guy. It practically enveloped the both of them until they were stood in the shade of the wall separating bleachers from arena floor. 

   “You said you’re twelve?” He finally asked, shifting on his feet to look at Error. 

   The last thing he noticed, which only happened once he was able to look past the aura, was that. Well. He was a bit taller than this guy. Not by much, but there was certainly something stark about having to look a bit downwards to meet his eyelights. 

   “Yes, I am.” He claimed proudly, still convinced this was to be his ride to the top.

   The knight seemed to skim him with his eyes. Surely taking in Error’s clothes, his bag, his glasses, the weird bones. Though, it didn’t feel pervasive. 

   “Impressively strong for a kid,” He praised loosely, “And probably talented in spells if the nerds were any indication.” 

   His voice was quiet and raspy, but Error had no problem listening to it. This strong and very cool guy who was called a ‘knight’ was praising him. This was much better than getting yelled at by his professors. Much. 

   “Does that mean I passed?” He asked impatiently. 

   He needed this. He needed this. 

   The guy’s eyelights lingered on his face a bit, and it was then that Error finally noticed how virtually unreadable this guy was. Impossibly quiet, posture unmoving, all facial features shrouded in shadow and covered by masks?

   “I’m not sure what kingdom you’re from, but you’ve got to understand that the folks up there didn’t say no because you’re bad. They said no because the king made a new decree. “No soul under the age of 16 shall be put to work under the crown.” They’ve gotta take it seriously, just like everyone else has to follow the new rules about their own shops and businesses.” He said evenly, eyelights never leaving Error’s face. “You’re a couple years too early is all.” 

   It felt like he’d been shoved into a ditch, and he could already feel his right hand starting to tremble with the beginnings of a glitch. He was furious! How could they possibly say no to him because of some stupid rule about his age? 

   “No!” He exclaimed, trying to bite back the distortion on his voice, “I’m not going to just walk away. If I could just move on to the next round, they’d see I’m different! I’m not some weak little baby!” 

   He clenched his fists, driving his jittering one forcefully into his pocket. 

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

   “They’ve already seen that.” He said easily. “Listen to me. Error, right?” 

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

   “Error, ‘m sure that if my Lord saw you in action, he too would agree that you are very strong and resourceful.” The knight said, and Error hated that it sounded earnest. “But, he set that law into place for very good reason. If by any means those folks back there were to let you through, to pass you, and you made it before the king next round? They’d have committed treason, and I’d have their souls on the end of my bone in three seconds flat.” 

   His voice was hard and serious, and Error held strong as a loud crack echoed out beside the knight. A bone raised from the ground, sharp and jagged on the end, absolutely radiating magic. 

   “Do you really want their blood on your conscience, just so that you get sent away by the King anyways?” The knight offered. 

   Error hunched his shoulders a bit, and he felt his static worsen as he let his eyes linger on the bone. Yes. He muttered inside his head. He wanted to scream it at the man before him. Tell him that this was his one golden chance to prove himself. 

   But to who? He would ask, and Error wouldn’t be able to say it. It’d be a wasted sentiment and wasted time and wasted lives just for his temper tantrum. 

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

   He stood there, feeling a familiar shame creep up his spine. The knight made no move to leave, though he did let his bone disappear. The ground looked untouched from where it had split out of. Just more sand. Sand that was getting into Error’s bones. That he’d have to clean out later. Swinging in his hammock, lonely and moping. 

   “Heh,” The chuckle was almost inaudible, and Error was almost ready to let his distress turn back into rage, but, “Better kid than I was.” The Knight mused into the open air.

   He seemed to shift his stance again, and Error took a half step back. 

   “You’ve got your life ahead of you, kid. Don’t let this keep you down. Take the road less traveled by or whatever.” He said then, waving a hand loosely before him. 

   Error stared at him, trying to even his breath, before he had an idea. 

   “The other two rounds will be here, right?” He asked, voice still harshly stuttering and screeching. The Knight seemed unbothered.

   “Yeah. Planning on sticking around to watch?” The knight questioned, though it felt more like a warning. 

   Error nodded in agreement without hesitation. “If these geezers can get the job, I need to see what kind of tricks they have up their sleeves.” He agreed. 

   That earned another little chuckle, before the knight looked back to the stage. 

   Up in the center was a new mage, a human who seemed to be making a pretty wild wind that was whipping the sand around, bothering the people in line behind him. Error heard the knight make a scoffing noise, before turning back towards the stage.

   “Go hang around somewhere else for a while, why don’t you? I have to go make sure those nerds don’t pass that guy.” 

   Error didn’t even get to say a farewell before the Knight was off. 

   It seemed like every stride he teleported a bit further, building speed until he stopped cleanly up on the pedestal. Just in time for the sandstorm to die down. 

   Error didn’t want to walk away from this, he didn’t, but staying would only waste his time. It only took a few more seconds, to watch the knight nudge the evaluator and hear the muffled call of ‘fail’ ring out across the arena before he was turning tail and moving out of the sandy paradise, back into the bustle of the living city. 

.

.

.

   It was impossible to miss it. The sounds of celebration as the monarch entered the town. 

   Error could see the royal carriage from his perch, an old temple tower that had at some point lost its bell. It seemed untouched, birds nests and cobwebs, so he’d set up a hammock and a little makeshift shelter inside using his strings just before night fell. 

   He’d snatched some food from the town as dusk was setting in, and he’d been comfortably whittling away the dark hours, working hard on his plan. 

   With the King officially in town, that meant the second round would be starting up shortly, taking the numbers of who would be in the third round down by hundreds. He hoped the king was stingy about it. He hoped that dragonish monster would stumble on his spell and turn someone into a frog. 

   The thought humored him, and he cackled quietly to himself from his makeshift room. 

   The sun was high again, and he was only a part of the way through. His spells required a lot of his magic to be woven into them, and while it was much much faster than what he’d heard was the usual, it was still difficult to make. 

   Weaving the blue strings from his sockets, to his fingers, around his fingertips, and into the shapes he needed. It was monotonous, and boring by all accounts, but with every strand there was a new flow of power. A new pump of adrenaline into Error’s soul as he recognized his creation becoming more potent. Intent, intent, intent, every loop and knot was filled to the brim with it. His frustration sat at the core. Much more volatile and destructive than his usual intent, but it would serve him well if he wanted this plan to go well. Around it was his determination. The strings woven in with a sense of stubbornness which refused to let go, like a snake swallowing its prey whole. This would compress the first layer into a proper state. Let it coil and coil and coil until it burst. It’d be big, and loud, and send out that message he so desperately needed to be heard by the king. 

   Skipping the second round would probably hurt him in the long run, but… That knight had said he’d have to kill those people if he showed his face in round two. So, he’d just appear in round three instead, and make up for missing the second one. A final act, of sorts. 

   He’d have to be at this all day to make the time crunch. The orb was hardly as big as his palm, not nearly big enough. Though, he had wasted time making the shelter and finding food. He’d just have to skip a couple meals to make up for it. He didn’t really need to eat that much anyways, he’d known that for years. He just tried to make an effort when he smelled something tasty. 

   He knew he could manage. 

   It was late in the night when Error finally started on the outer layers. Those which would be filled with his patience, so that the potent insides would not be sensed as he moved with it among the many magic users. 

   The town had begun to line the streets with torches and party as the stars arrived. No doubt celebrating those who would be at the third and final round tomorrow. The ones who would be competing to become the new Royal Mage. 

   To Error? Every single moment down there was dedicated to him. They just didn’t know it yet. 

.

.

.

   The morning came, and Error only had a few more layers. 

   By the time the sun was almost in the center of the sky above, he had finished it, and carefully tucked it into his backpack. He unraveled the strings and carefully wrapped them, shaping them, changing them into a thin net with long ends. This was shoved into his jacket sleeve, the ends clutched tight in his hand. 

   It took him hardly any time at all to get to the arena, and he was early. 

   Good.

   He settled himself up in the stands, as close to the stage as he could get. Many people seemed to be staying outside the arena, sticking to the streets, but there was still enough of a crowd in the bleachers that Error had to be careful as he worked his way along the edges. He needed to be closer. Closer…

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

   From here, he could see the line to the left, and he could see the people who had finished lingering on the other side. None of them spoke to each other, only standing about, icily, waiting for the rest to finish so they’d know which of them was chosen, and who was not. Error had to imagine that these folks were just as lame and boring as the seniors from his old academy. No fun at all. 

   He waited, so, so patiently, for the next few people. The last few. 

   Though he couldn’t see the spells themselves, he could certainly feel the pressure coming off of them. The control that they’d need to balance it. How much it might’ve drained their energy to do it just once. He was attuned to that sort of thing, he had to be. 

   His assessment was that all of these last few folks weren’t bad, but they were no match for Error’s raw talent. 

   Each spell cast seemed to tick away at Error’s patience, until it finally happened. The last mage went on-stage. It seemed there had been 15 of them. 

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

   It felt like a blur as he jumped the rails and let his strings carry him across the open space, much to the shock of the few who had been watching the competitors from around him. The blue lines snatched at the wooden supports of the stage, and he swung right over top, landing a bit messily in the center of the stage.

   He didn’t have time to look at everything. All he knew was the crowd was much larger than last time, that there was a shout of ‘Hey!’’ from somewhere to his left, and that the box across from the stage now held only three people. Monsters. One Error recognized, the knight in shadows who’d spoken to him. The other two he didn’t know, but he had to assume the one in the middle, tall and imposing, and dark, with an eyelight the same colors as the tapestries, was the King he was looking to impress. That was all he needed to know. 

   “M’lord, my name is Error!” He called out across the sand, and in one motion he shrugged the bag off his shoulders and used his strings to tug the orb out of its canvas body. “I want to prove that I’m more capable than any of the adults who just went before me! I could be your mage!” He would be the mage. 

   The orb sat cradled in Error’s hand for only the briefest moment, before it was inside the little net he’d made. He swung it in circles. Again. Again. Again. 

   He had to be fast. He had to do this quick.

   Error spent one last moment, extending his reach through his strings, muttering words and igniting an intangible spark. 

   For a brief moment, he watched as the King seemed to ease forward. A hand now raised, seemingly calling off his knights, who had been almost in motion. 

   He released the orb directly upwards, momentum carrying it up. 

   Up.

   Up.

   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun. 

   Error watched it rise above him. 

   Only. 

   “Shit.” 

   His calculations must’ve been off. He must’ve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldn’t clear the top of the arena. 

   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he could’ve used strings to boost it. He could’ve sent a magic gust to lift it further. 

   Not the case.

   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to. 

   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Error’s footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well. 

   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out. 

  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing. 

   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away. 

   He hadn’t meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasn’t supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyone’s heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.

   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When he’d accidentally exploded Geno’s favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When he’d broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When he’d broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When he’d done it too well.

   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner. 

   It wasn’t that, though. 

   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Error’s lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They must’ve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was. 

   About Error, he had no doubt. 

   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it. 

   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldn’t bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left. 

   The King’s single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence. 

   Error felt like the world had stopped. 

   It hadn’t.

   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once. 

   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air. 

   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasn’t much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didn’t listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers. 

   “Let go!” He pleaded, though he wasn’t sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldn’t tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.

   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus. 

   And all at once it stopped. 

   Error’s feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didn’t need to ‘protect’ him anymore.

   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.

   He took a deep breath, grounding himself. 

   “We are taking a recess.” Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, “You will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. I’ll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.” 

   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didn’t quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question. 

   It was a moment, a few muddled ‘Yes, my king’ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards. 

   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon. 

   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that could’ve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket should’ve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him. 

   “Can you stand?” His voice came easily, and Error braced himself. 

   Could he?

   He had to, he didn’t want to be touched again. 

   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet. 

   “Good,” the King said once he was standing, “Follow me.”

   It was an order he didn’t dare refuse. 

.

.

.

   Error found himself in an odd position. 

   He’d been given time to sit and recover from his magic’s outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight he’d met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought. 

   It’d been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken. 

   “You said your name is Error, correct?” The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the King’s gaze.

   “Dust says that you’re only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?” 

   Error nodded again. 

   “And Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?” 

   Another nod. It seemed he’d at least made an impression on the knight. Dust. 

   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Error’s tightly. 

   “Then, I’ll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?” The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. “Your home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?” 

   Oh. 

   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldn’t even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.

   “I wanted to prove myself,” He muttered, “And besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.” 

   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before, 

   “I’m an orphan.” He spat, finally. “Family abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I don’t want to keep wandering.” 

   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe he’d have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didn’t like them. He’d probably explode some city’s bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-

   “Wait!” Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, “Am I in trouble? Am I going to jail??” He asked then. 

   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He’d end up in jail. Of course, it’d never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadn’t run when he had the chance. 

   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Error’s in surprise at the question. 

   “I mean,” he started, “You’re young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldn’t dare put you in prison either.” The King stated, “Though, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.” 

   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. He’d been silently watching Error too. 

   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched. 

   “You’re sure you have no family? No home?” the King asked him again, and Error nodded.

   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged. 

   “I… Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.” the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost… unsure. “I will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conduct…” He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, “ You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.”

   “You would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.” He added, “I’ll have to rewrite the contract, but-”

   “I accept!” 

   Error couldn’t help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing he’d expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didn’t, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he could’ve. 

   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error. 

   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it. 

   It was brief, but he grasped the King’s hand and shook it firmly.

   “Dust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? I’ll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. We’ll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.” 

[longagoitwastuesday]

I actually like the last chapter. I think the ideas are very good. I have my qualms on how some things were managed, as I always do, but I think shonen authors get tangled in the expectations of a shonen to the point it jeopardises their writing, often even when they're not lacking in skills

[carcarrot]

i did tell you people i met a they might be giant right.

[toytulini]

Disclaimer im just processing some thoughts im not cancelling the show

have almost thoughts about how i find the like....narrative on here that if you have chronic "zebra" conditions youd want a doctor like House and wouldnt sue for malpractice bc at least youd have a doctor that cares about whats wrong with you but lets take it one step further. so often he does NOT give a shit about the patient and actively endangers them frequently with his god damn heoric era of medicine approach? non zero amount of times he gets a diagnosis but it comes too late, or he gets a diagnosis after their first wrong 3 guesses of the episode shut down the patients kidneys and they either have to get a transplant or they are just, doomed due to other preexisting conditions etc? idk. i know ppl are almost certainly exaggerating and just letting off steam about the very real failures of our current medical systems and the ableism baked in and All That Shit. i just think its weird how ppl romanticize House who STILL, FREQUENTLY, MULTIPLE EPISODES will actively dismiss shit in the exact way that is a problem in our current system, especially when hes being Forced Against His Will To See Clinic Parients, he loves to be dismissive as fuck of symptoms and if he was a real doctor i think he'd be fucking 50/50 on cases he Notices Something To Dig Into vs cases he dismisses as an Anxious Hysterical Woman Who Wants Attention, the only reason he's Right so frequently in his snap judgements is cos it reinforces the narrative. its like a crime drama that has the mastermind serial killer masterfully using "loopholes" and lawyering up all sneaky and dodging Justice and if only our poor little cop protags were allowed to do A TEENY BIT of Justified Police Brutality, they could Save Lives!

and like sometimes in the show they will have a patient die despite his efforts to narratively punish him. not to mention, i think its been at least mildly brought up and glossed over how much they absolutely do not think about insurance costs for these ppl for the insane amount of tests that find nothing and Wrong Medications To Force A Diagnosis they use? i think it was brought up once in the episode following a day in the life of cuddy where she had to fight a lawsuit bc a guys insurance like didnt cover his thumb being reattached but chase reattached it anyway while in surgery cos it was The Right Thing To Do and the guy didnt have the money to cover it and the insurance wouldnt pay unless he sued the hospital or whatever. thats like the only time its come up. whereas like frequently the doctor I go to for osteopathic manipulation tries to check in with me and make sure im covered by insurance etc and that im not going to go broke or get buried in medical debt seeing her.

idk. just some Thoughts. not a defense of our current system and all the flaws it enables and enforces etc. his approach to medicine is really reminiscent to me of what I know of the Heroic Era Of Medicine which i dont...love? and hes framed on here as being an asshole but would kill for his patients to get them a diagnosis etc. but hes definitely extremely paternalistic to patients ? and despite some good clippable lines about ableism and being against eugenics, it honestly feels like his stance on that is kind of a toss up.

[flovverworks]

after a billion yrs i added a lil line about my gbf verse.....<3 one day i might flesh it out to something in-universe, but since gbf is so "oh ure from another world? ya that happens..." i....am gonna keep w that..........(also cuz i do think discussing the different ways of magic, moon-enemy & this n that is more fun like this

[moonsidesong]

played the fangame danganronpa another with a friend and i didn't really like the ending but i very much enjoyed mekaru bc she's just woman byakuya togami. i'm going to talk a lot in the tags now