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gor3-hound · 3 days ago

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BOT DROP !!

final one before indefinite hiatus... these have been sitting in my unlisted for MONTHS, so wanted to post them before i lowkey abandon this c.ai account...

CONTENT WARNINGS: incest, stepcest. bots from yakuza, jjk, resident evil and dc below :)

BOT ONE, LEON - a half-angel crash landed on his balcony

Leon has been alive for almost four centuries, and he can't say he'd ever experienced a half-angel falling from the sky and crashing onto his balcony. He's not sure how you got past his wards, but then again… he's pretty sure he'd been drinking a new vintage when he started to re-apply the magic. He really can't be blamed for any mistakes he makes when whiskey comes into play.

He almost leaves you there. He knows you'd probably fly off when you woke up. If you had the strength to, that is. He knows what your kind is like. How much you look down on warlocks due to the demon blood in them. He had no obligation to help you. He shouldn't care if you made it or not. Then again, the nephilim aren't going to believe he's not the one behind this if he leaves you to die. It's self-preservation.

Well. That's what he tells himself as he lifts your body up carefully, mindful of your injured wings. He carries you to his bedroom and sets you down, getting everything he's gonna need to start healing you. It's a long process, healing one of your kind. His magic feels almost depleted when your breathing finally evens out. He lets out a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the chair he pulled out next to the bed, shutting his eyes. He's definitely going to need a nap after this. And a drink.

His eyes flick open once he hears movement from you. He doesn't wait for your eyes to open - he might as well just get it out of the way if you're gonna freak out. "You're finally awake. I was beginning to think you weren't gonna pull through, angel."

BOT TWO, LEON AND DANTE - hybrid owner brothers

Leon wasn’t super happy when Dante showed up one day with a hybrid in tow, but he quickly became just as obsessed with you as Dante was. Dante, despite being the older of the two brothers, was certainly not the most mature. He’s always the ‘fun’ owner, letting you do whatever you like as long as it meant you'd give him that big smile.

Leon scolds Dante more than he scolds you, somehow. You’re not the best behaved, but it’s entirely his older brother’s fault. Any training Leon attempted to give you went out the window as soon as you and Dante were alone. The only commands the white-haired man cared about were lie down and hips up. Made Leon a little queasy thinking about how Dante basically used you as a toy, but he was also very aware that his thoughts have been fairly impure, so he doesn’t have much leg to stand on. It's not like he hasn't had his fun with you in the past.

Realistically, it should be no surprise when he comes home to find you settled happily on Dante’s lap, looking a little ruffled and out of breath. He steps further into the room, eyes falling on the both of you. Dante’s lazily browsing through TV channels, and you’re sat there warming him, just out on the middle of the couch. Like you can’t go a second without being full. “Jesus. You can’t have her like this in your room?”

BOT THREE, LEON - dad!leon x bimbo!daughter

You've always been the light of Leon's life - that much is obvious to anyone who sees the both of you together for more than two seconds. You're his only child. The only thing good left in his life, if he's being honest. He didn't mean to spoil you as much as he has, but he was never good at refusing the puppy dog eyes.

Leon knows he's to blame for how you are now. All grown up without a thought to spare in your pretty head, spoiled beyond belief. He's never made you work hard. It's not possible to be the strict parent and the fun parent at the same time, not as a single father. With work taking up most of his time, he didn't have the heart to go hard on you when you two got some time together. And he was guilty of pulling you out of school on his days off when you were perfectly fine to take you shopping - he had to make up for his long absences, right?

So, yeah. He's well aware it's his fault. But it makes him happy to see you happy as you hold up what might be the largest parcel he's ever seen with a huge smile on your face - a clothing haul straight from his wallet. God forbid his little princess had to work. Not while he's still around. He'll watch you try on every piece of clothing until you're satisfied. He deserves a dad of the year award.

Until he can't control the way he reacts when you come into the living room in a skirt that's a little too short. Yeah, definitely not dad of the year. No dad should have to grab a couch cushion to hide their lap when their daughter is showing off an outfit. And he definitely shouldn't speak up in a hoarse voice, asking you to turn around so he can get a better look, right?

"C'mon, princess. Give daddy a twirl." Yeah. Leon is so very screwed.

BOT FOUR, LEON - his symbiote wants you as a mate (venom!leon)

Leon would have risked the months of brain-probing he was liable to endure if he told the government about his new friend if he knew Venom would become so attached to you. Venom doesn't care that being in the same room as you makes Leon get all clammy and awkward. Leon's tried to explain you're just his roommate - a friend at best. Venom argues you'd be much more fun as it's mate.

Leon, the symbiote practically purrs in his mind. Leon groans, brows furrowing as he turns in his bed. He's been trying to sleep for the past hour, and Venom isn't happy about it. Leon. We should visit our mate.

"It's, like… 2am." Leon groans, rubbing a hand over his face. Venom hasn't left him alone since it first met you, and Leon isn't sure how much longer he's gonna be able to hold the symbiote back. "She's sleeping."

She will be pleased with our presence. Venom growls in his mind, tendrils spreading across Leon's face before they stretch across his body and out to his limbs, covering him in black goo. Leon tries to fight back as Venom forces him out of bed, but it's no use.

"Venom. Venom, wait-" He grunts, frowning as Venom leads him to your room. The symbiote lies Leon down in your bed, tendrils tapping your shoulder a few times before he peels away slightly, leaving half of Leon's face free.

BOT FIVE, BILLY COEN - your big brother is home !!

It's been two years since Billy last saw you properly, excluding a weekend visit here or there. You're all grown up now, and he's not sure if he's ready to come to terms with that fact. There's no way you're the same little girl - his little sister that used to hang off his arm and beg to follow him around every chance you got. It's not like he hasn't called - your mom was telling him how upset you'd been in his absence, but he didn't have a choice. The Marines wasn't the easiest lifestyle to uphold, but it was the one he chose.

The novelty of the situation has worn off fast. He's barely been home for a day, and he's already getting a little sick of you. You're somehow clingier now then when you were a kid, not giving him a chance to breathe. He wouldn't even mind it so much if you just gave him a second, but he hasn't even settled in yet. He understands that you're trying to make the most of it, but he's only home for a month before he's off again. He wants to relax.

There's something weird about how much you're clinging to him. He wants to believe its just excitement, but it feels like something else. He saw the way you were gawking over him when he showed up in his uniform. And now - he's trying to unpack some stuff, and you won't stop with your incessant yapping, spread out on his bed like it's yours.

"Jesus Christ." He mumbles under his breath, taking a deep breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. You missed him. He gets it. He missed you, too. "Kid. Please. You're giving me a damn headache over here."

BOT SIX, BRUCE WAYNE - your step-dad taking you shopping

You never attempted to get to know the latest of your mom's boyfriends - Bruce. It was a little exciting at first, having Bruce Wayne in your life, but he didn't seem as interesting in person as on TV. Your mom had a habit of moving from guy to guy anyway, so you didn't expect them to last for long.

You were wrong. Quicker than you could even blink, they were engaged, and then married. Weddings can come quickly when you have enough money to pay for it out of pocket. Who knew? Bruce bought you the prettiest dress, and you smiled in all the wedding photos, but that didn't mean you liked him all of a sudden. He was stuck-up, constantly trying to instruct your every move. Like you aren't an adult; like he's your real dad. He isn't, and he never will be.

Your mom isn't exactly happy with the fact you refuse to get along with him, though. She has the brightest idea to make the two of you go on a little shopping trip, as if him flashing his AmEx card is enough to impress you. Bruce could buy the entire Prada catalogue and it still wouldn't make you act all sweet with him.

"So…" He starts awkwardly, glancing at you with a quick side-eye as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, the both of you sitting in the parking lot of a mall. He clears his throat, tugging at the collar of his turtleneck like it's suffocating him. "You have anywhere in particular you'd like to go, sweetheart?"

BOT SEVEN, TOJI - dog hybrid!toji x bunny!user

Toji is perfectly content with how his life is going. It’s been years since Shiu took him in from that dog fighting ring, giving him comfort in exchange for a few jobs here or there. He acts more like a handler than an owner, letting Toji go off and do as he pleases in his off time. He’s not gonna complain. He gets a place to sleep for free, food and a cut from the jobs Shiu sends him on. It’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.

Of course, things don’t always go perfectly. Shiu is tough - he’s hardened from his line of work, yes, but he’s a lot softer than Toji is or ever will be. Naturally, the guy couldn’t help himself when he picked you up. A soft little rabbit hybrid who’d gotten into the wrong crowd.

He’d explained you’d be living with them now. Shiu had the money and the space, and he didn’t think Toji would mind too much. Wrong. This was Toji’s space, and he’d be damned if he let some weak, fluffy little bunny encroach on it.

Shiu keeps you occupied most of the time, but you seem to seek Toji out whenever he has to leave to go to work. A growl rumbles in his throat as you approach him, your cotton tail twitching. “Get lost, bunny, unless ya wanna become a snack.”

BOT EIGHT, GORO MAJIMA - he comes home to his sleeping wife

Sleeping alone was never uncommon with your husband, Majima. It was rare that he was home everyday, let alone in time to have dinner with you and accompany you to bed. It could be lonely, yes, but you were aware of Majima’s priorities with his work when you married him. You’d come to accept your place – you knew how much he cared for you. He made it abundantly clear with his actions when he was able to spend time with you.

Majima isn’t surprised when he comes home, seeing you curled up on the tatami, wearing his shirt, no less. He grins at the sight, stripping down to his boxers in record timing before slipping behind your sleeping form, pressing himself against you. “Look so cute, even when you’re sleepin’. Ain’t that right, pretty baby? Such a dream f’me. Been waitin’ to get home to ya aaaaall night.”

#nyx bots #sorry for lazy formatting um... just trying to get them out for you guys :)

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 3 days ago

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Blood binding and Sauron’s intentions

My pal @rey-jake-therapist and I were in one of our usual friendly discussions about this topic in one of her posts, but since the theme digresses so much from her original intent and I’m pretty much spamming her OG post by now, we decided to move the debate to here, and invite the fandom to join in.

As customary, Rey always presents good and challenging counter-arguments to mine. Because it's possible to disagree and keep it civil and friendly. This is good fandom etiquette, and this is the point of debates, after all: sharing different ideas and perspectives on the same topic. We usually end up agreeing on disagreeing and it’s all good in the end.

What were Sauron’s intentions and goals in stabbing Galadriel with Morgoth’s crown in 2x08?

2x01 / 2x08 parallels: “Only blood can bind.” (Adar; 1x05)

1) Binding/Enslaving Galadriel to his Will

Rey made the case for Sauron’s intention of possessing and dominating Galadriel using Morgoth’s crown. And that we should focus on present intentions, and not lose yourselves in “what if” scenarios (with this I totally agree, so, let's focus on the present time).

This theory states that Sauron wanted to enslave Galadriel to his will, by having her handing over Nenya, in submission. This would explain why Galadriel seemed “bewitched” while removing Nenya from her finger, and almost surrendering it to him.

This means Sauron has “outgrown” his intentions from 1x08, when he wanted to serve Galadriel (due to his Maia nature; he was created to be a servant to a Vala). Now, he wants full power, and he’s not willing to share it with anyone else (Galadriel included):

Sauron only wants to dominate/possess Galadriel now: she humiliated him when she refused him in 1x08, he developed an obsession for her, so he punished her with physical pain (the stabbing), and attempted to possess her so she would follow him.

And so, if blood binding theory is true, this would work like the Nine and the Nazgûl, with Galadriel not only being a servant, but a slave to Sauron. This theory can also imply she would have, indeed, become a Ringwraith herself, as her soul was entering the Unseen world (“Shadow realm”) when Gil-galad and Arondir found her.

This is a very strong theory, and I think many fellow fans share this view, as well. Would it pass Sauron to do something like this? Absolutely not, and it would not be OCC for him to have this intention, at all.

So what’s my problem, you might ask?

This facial expression right here:

Unless Charlie was having a case of fatigue eyes due to extensive use of contact lenses (speaking from personal experience), there’s no explanation for Sauron getting all teared up when he believed Galadriel was about to join him, if his intention was to enslave her to his will, and that’s what he was doing here.

And no, Galadriel can’t deceive him. This is underestimating Sauron’s power: he’s the “great deceiver”, and only he can deceive himself, really. And if they are, indeed, blood bound, Galadriel couldn’t possibly hide anything from him. And I already made the case for how Galadriel was about to join him, freely, in another post.

2) “You bind me to the light, I bind you to power”

Speaking of Sauron’s intentions, we need to remember the creator of this character and what he says about him. Tolkien tells us (in Letters 131, 153 and 183) that “Annatar” still has “fair motives”: he’s a reformer who, truly, wants to rebuild/heal Middle-earth, and he’s genuine in this endeavor (nevermind his methods, that’s why he’s a villain). Rey counter-argumented this does not translate in a desire to serve Galadriel, and she’s correct.

However, what was his intention in 1x08?

And if Sauron still has a genuine concern in healing Middle-earth, what if his intention with Morgoth’s crown was giving Galadriel his power, while harvesting her light for himself, just like he wanted in 1x08? And if this was his intention, why would he keep her soul “trapped” in the Unseen world? What if he wanted to make her queen of the Seen and Unseen world? Not a mere queen of Middle-earth, but as nearly as possible to a literal Goddess he could serve?

Because Sauron/Mairon can’t escape his nature, he was created to be a servant, a Maia to a Vala. And, right now, he doesn’t want to serve Morgoth. Even though he does it, unconsciously, and perhaps he recognized this after he killed Celebrimbor in a rage fit (something that’s completely OCC for him, because that’s not who he is; Sauron is a control freak, a mastermind).

This scene with Galadriel happened after that; and Sauron cried because, when he looked up at Celebrimbor, all he could see was Morgoth’s bounds on him reaching the surface. And that chaotic destruction is Morgoth, not Sauron. And he doesn't want that at this point on his character arc in Tolkien lore. I think this is when Sauron makes the decision to bind himself to Galadriel, one way or the other.

I absolutely disagree with the idea that Sauron stabbed Galadriel to punish her or kill her: if that was his true intention he would have used Morgoth sword (he was already using it in his duel with Galadriel the entire time), not a powerful dark magic object infused with own blood (because Adar used it to destroy his previous physical form), nor he would have carried that thing around the entire time while mentioning "binding" twice (“I never believed I could be... Until today. Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...” (1x06); “The door is still open”).

“Binding” (usually connected with “blood oaths”) and “enslaving” are two different kinds of blood magic. Because the Nine rings of power are pieces of jewelry meant to be worn by ring-bearers, with a small dosage of Sauron’s blood (along with other specific spells). Morgoth’s crown not only has a lot of Sauron’s blood on it, but we also don’t know what kind of dark magic it actually contains: we only know it was made to hold the Silmarils and it can destroy Sauron’s physical form (implying that, maybe, Sauron doesn’t have much control over this object?).

Sauron accidentally sharing his power with Galadriel is nonsense to me, as well. He's ancient, has been around since before the world existed (he helped create that very world), has been a master in blood magic and every sort of sorcery for thousands of years, and he’s one of the most powerful Maia in existence, but isn’t aware he would be giving Galadriel some of his power by binding himself to her? When he clearly mentions this in 1x08? "I bind you to power". Because Galadriel appears to be seeing the world in a whole new way in 2x08 epilogue (and even her eyes look off):

Besides, Galadriel is suppose to be a powerful sorceress of her own right in Tolkien lore, mastering several powers. In the legendarium Galadriel own power was amplified by Nenya, yes, but this isn’t the case in “Rings of Power”, because we haven’t seen her displaying any magical powers in Season 1. She won’t have any other powers in the show (besides healing and foresight/visions), completely cutting off with Tolkien legendarium? If the show keeps it true to the lore on that bit, where did her powers (look into others’ hearts and minds, and communicate telepathically) come from? Will they “magically” appear out of nowhere? When and how? But, if these powers came from Sauron it’s because he wanted it to happen, and that was his intention. And if that was his intention, what was his purpose with this if not to serve her?

And Sauron does share power: he does share his power with those he wants to enslave; via the rings of power. That’s why Celebrimbor tells him he’s their prisoner, and not their master. However, these are two very different kinds and degrees of magic. Because with the rings ("enslave") he can control how he wants it to go; while sharing his actual power with another living being ("blood oath") is uncontrollable. He can’t possible know the end result of it.

I know there’s a popular theory that Adar was blood bound to Sauron, but I don’t think so. Adar not only doesn't have any magical powers, but he wouldn’t be able to kill Sauron himself, if that was true. Blood binding is a blood oath, and it’s forever, unbreakable, and it prevents beings from harming or acting against one another (physically) in any direct way. That’s why “Rings of Power” introduced the clue that Sauron might be blood bound to Morgoth in 1x03; and that’s the reason he could never leave nor forsake his master even when he came to resent him.

This means, that, in "Rings of Power", Sauron, most likely, only has Morgoth as a reference to blood oaths. And he probably thinks this will go the same way with Galadriel, and he’ll keep her light to himself, allowing him to keep Morgoth at bay. Only her “light” is merely aesthetic, really. The light that shines on her hair and eyes is the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and it shines on every Elf that was born during the Years of the Trees (and not only her). Because Galadriel is a complex and nuanced character, and ticking bomb that can turn dark at any minute.

#saurondriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #galadriel trop #sauron trop

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miller-n-morgan-2 · 8 hours ago

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More Than Words

2. Questions

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of human touch is the biggest burden imaginable... until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: still a lot for now but: mild language, canon typical violence, mention of murder, death, mutant experimentation, and a depressive episode briefly described. Logan is a warning, especially here

Chapter Summary: The bad dreams have ceased, but many questions lurk in their place, and the meaning behind those dreams is still one of them. In the middle of all the chaos, a few things will come to light.

Word Count: 8.4k

“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”

You put your headset on this morning. You usually only used it to drown out everything else when you really needed to. Everyone has noticed except those who don’t know what it means. Those who do, remember the times in which you were at your lowest. Back then you were practically unable to function without the damn headphones over your ears. The last time you even remember wearing them was when you first started teaching here, all the noise and rapid energy being quieted by the music in your head.

After last night, and the confessions made to Logan, he seemed to be open to hearing more from you then… but he kept you at arm’s reach now, and you couldn’t say you didn’t understand why. He’s not just been thrust into the middle of an age-old fight between friends, but he also is struggling with his identity.

You did however learn something interesting after hearing chatter when you woke up. Logan and Scott aren't getting along. Why? Because Logan has been relentlessly flirting with Jean. You’d scoffed when you found out. Not because you don’t think Jean is worthy of such advances, but because he was basically shooting himself in the foot by even trying to take her from Scott.

Jean is a rare bird, and a special person. Charles argues the same thing about everyone who sets foot on the property, but with her, it’s especially true. She’s smarter than most people you know, having gone to a college outside of the education given by Charles and the others. She even attended school alongside you for a while, although it only took you a few semesters to realize you weren’t cut out for the medical field like she was. You have to be able to touch your patients, after all.

She had a lot to offer, and anyone could see that. Even excluding her powers, which were enough to level a city on their own. She was kind, nurturing, and very strategic. All of those things combined with the looks of a super model made her one of the most desirable people in the entire mansion, so even though you and Logan made a connection, you don’t find it hard to see why he’s taken with her.

It may bother you just a little, but you would never admit it to anyone who asked, not even Charles.

All of this is not why you put on your headset, but it could be a contributing factor.

You’ve just met Logan, or at least officially. It stands to reason that you shouldn’t have an inkling of feelings yet. You can’t imagine that would be how it goes. In any rational situation, you have to get to know him. That’s how relationships work.

You remember how it was with Charlie, how it took more than one night of talking late when everyone else was asleep. You got to know him, and got to see his kindness and compassionate heart. You’d seen who he truly was, and it warmed your heart and soul, despite not being able to touch him. You don’t know Logan yet, but you imagine he’s not as soft and kind, nor gentle or compassionate. He seems like sort of a lone wolf, and the type to push away everything except for what he’s got his eyes set on. You don’t even know if the connection you made was real, or if he was just looking for company…

He has nightmares, but you don’t know why. It’s only one relation, that’s all. Maybe he’d only asked you to stay because he was frightened of them, just like you are of yours.

You’d gone back to your room near the hours of sunrise, and fell back asleep before your alarm woke you, but you were still exhausted, and wondered if he was facing the same conundrum. It was only when you went to ask him about it that he became colder to you than the night before. He’d given a stiff answer and gone about his morning, which you were confused by, since he wasn’t a student, nor a teacher.

You passed him in the halls throughout the day, and nodded to him with a sweet smile. He doesn’t really return it, just kept walking. You think that maybe he just didn’t see you, or was on his way to do something else and couldn’t pay attention, but then at dinner he refuses to look at you, and you can’t for the life of you understand why.

You decide to block him out, to deal with the more pressing matters. The school, the mutant rebellion, and Rogue, the newest recruit.

She’s like you in a few ways, and you feel sorry for her. You hope that by passing on some stories that maybe she can find hope in her powers. They are a gift and a curse, but she holds them wonderfully well already.

You found her on the back balcony, overlooking the gardens. She’d been sitting alone for about an hour, but didn’t seem to be bothered, just enjoying the peace. You debated whether or not you should disrupt it, but the second she heard you behind her, she turned.

You had been organizing things back where they go, following the mess of mutant children to try and keep the house in good shape, and now that you’d found yourself with her, you wanted to say a few things. You peeled your headset off and sat beside her, offering a smile first. Her energy felt stiff, like she’d been unwelcome where she was.

“You settled in yet?”

She shrugged, unsure of what to say. Even in a place full of people like her, she was an outsider. “I guess I’m getting there.”

It was silent for a moment, and you sensed her energy was low and draining. She must have been sad, or angry, or even flat our forlorn about her powers and the danger they hold.

“Y’know, when I first found out about my powers, it was the worst day of my life,” you started, but quickly followed up, knowing the words were not inspiring. “They are a blessing and a curse, but for most of my life they were a curse… until the Professor found me. Now, I’ve learned to use them to help people. You can, too.”

It should have helped, but her feelings on the power she held didn’t waver, she just wanted to know what she was in for, and you knew better than anyone what she would face.

“Did you ever… hurt anyone?” she asked sincerely, turning to face you but managing the distance. Both your touches were lethal and dangerous.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking out to the gardens and hoping that the serene ambience would keep you in a good state of mind. “Most of them were the people closest to me. Always an accident, but still a deadly one.”

“I’m sorry,” she dropped her head, unsure of herself now, too. She didn’t know how to control it, or even subdue it. It may not even be possible.

“Don’t be sorry, it was a long time ago… I’m a lot more careful now.”

“They told me how old you were, how long you’ve been around…” she trailed, looking for a good way to ask such a terrible question. “How have you lived that long without being able to touch the people you love?”

You understood why she was asking. Of course, she was concerned about her future, but also her present. She’s a runaway, who’s left her entire family because of her ability. She must be feeling the lonesomeness that all mutants inevitably face at one point in their lives.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying not to become emotional. You’ve loved many people in your lifetime, many people you’ve lost early, or at the right time, but you could never go with them. You can’t seem to die, but everyone else does when you need them the most. “I think that being here is really what saved me. Not only knowing there are others like me, but knowing I can have a family who doesn’t fear me, doesn’t judge me. Even knowing all the things I’ve done.”

“You didn’t do them on purpose, did you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’m still responsible for them, for the people I’ve killed.”

You’ve killed people. How many, she doesn’t know, but she feels as though you’re the only person that can understand her. That can understand being afraid of herself and what she can do to others. She knows that you’ve probably gone decades and decades just trying to learn how to be more careful, and that she’ll have to learn, too.

“You said you’d hurt people you love… what happened?”

This was a very soft spot for you. Even after a century, it was still an open wound. Something that would never fully heal, because there was no way to achieve closure over it. What’s lost is gone, and your powers were the cause.

“I was engaged once,” you dropped your gaze to your lap, looking at your hands and the way they were so well fitted with the green gloves. You practically never took them off.

“Engaged?”

“Yeah, engaged. I’d somehow managed to find the single man in the entire universe that didn’t require me to touch him to achieve his affection…” You trailed, trying not to go into detail. Searching for a small distraction, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, pulling loose threads to ignore the sad memories. “I touched him by accident.”

“And he died?” She widened her eyes, both upset for you and becoming more afraid of herself. She doesn’t want to fall in love, not if she’s going to hurt that person eventually.

“He did,” you wiped your hand over your eyes before any tears could even fall, and then let it rest back in your lap. “But you’re not gonna make the same mistake that I did, I promise. I’ll help you.”

“You will?” Her eagerness to accept the assistance was clear. “Thank you.”

“Of course… and don’t give up hope. There could be someone out there that can withstand your powers just as they are.”

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to offer such things to her, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Her brow furrowed, unsure if what you were saying was true. From your earlier words, you’ve been around a long time and it’s never happened for you. “Sounds impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” you told her, standing up from beside her on the bench. “Nothing is impossible.”

You left her on that note, and went back inside.

On your way up to bed, you caught Logan in the hallway. You gave a tight lipped smile on the way to your door, expecting him to be cold like he was throughout the day… but he fell into stride next to you, walking to his own door.

“You guys got anything good to drink around here?” he asked, partially as a joke, but usually never going without a drink for more than a day was catching up to him.

“This is a school, Logan,” you turned to him with a laugh and a light smile. Maybe he’d struck out with Jean and was off her coattails now.

“Well I can see that, but I figured with a limited number of adults chasing after a million kids, someone’s gotta be drinking at the end of the day,” he leaned against his door frame, and you had completely turned to face him, neglecting your door knob which you had reached for originally.

You huffed a sigh, shaking your head at him. You may or may not have a bottle of Jack hidden where no one can find it. If anyone in this hell hole had a reason to drink it was you, but you never did it in front of the kids, or nearly anyone else. You reckon Charles or Ororo would march up to you if they found out, voicing their concern.

“Stay quiet, and don’t say a word about this to anyone…” You opened the door, letting him follow you in before closing it and locking the knob. “Under the bed, back right corner.”

You allowed him to go fishing for it himself, going to your desk in the corner to make sure you were caught up on everything and prepared for tomorrow’s history quiz before you settled in for the night. He’d already been ready for bed, seemingly just roaming the halls and looking for alcohol at this late hour.

“I surprised you, huh?” you ask, not even throwing a look over your shoulder. You may have an interest in this man, but since you started teaching here you were always efficient, and that wasn’t going to stop now.

“Yeah, a little,” he chuckled, taking swigs straight from the bottle. It had been more than half full the last time you drank from it, so there was a decent amount. “You just seem like the innocent one.”

This made you drop what you were doing and spin your chair around. “Innocent?”

He smirked at your furrowed brows, but having known of your mutation, he was willing to guess everything and even bet on it. “I believe that’s what I said.”

You tilted your head at him, the look on your face making him grin even more.

“I don’t think I like that word,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest and thinking of all the reasons why. “I’ve done and seen things that would be considered unfathomable to other people.”

“I don’t mean how dangerous you are, I mean how corrupted you are,” he kept on, another swig taken from the bottle. “And I think you’re innocent.”

“I still don’t like it,” you shook your head, laughing a little and reaching for the bottle, which he was all too happy to hand over, fingers brushing your gloved hands. “I prefer inexperienced.”

“Does it matter? It means the same thing,” he argued, watching you take a nice lengthy drink of the whiskey in your hand.

“It does matter, actually,” you were all too happy to correct him. “Innocence implies that my mind is pure of corruption, but really, I’ve just never been able to do the things I’ve thought about.”

He rolled his eyes, taking back the bottle and trying to keep up with you. He pointed to your head with a swirling finger. “Yeah right, I’m sure you’re just all kinds of perverted up there.”

You just giggled and looked at him for a moment. He was funny, he was handsome, and he was clearly interested in your favorite choice of alcohol. Just more things to connect on, you supposed. Maybe feelings weren’t so far down the road, after all.

You blinked out of it when you realized you’d been looking at his bare arms for too long, the beater he wore left little to the imagination as to how fit he was, and it was a nice view to take in, but not this late, and certainly not with a bottle of Jack.

“I should be getting to bed soon, big test tomorrow…” you trailed, standing up and going to the door. It was late, no one else should be awake, but you still wanted to make sure. “You can take the whiskey for the road, if you want.”

“I’ll get you another one,” he returned, knowing that by the end of the night, the bottle was likely to be empty. He’d not had Jack Daniel’s in a while, so he was grateful for the favor.

“No need,” you shook your head as he met you in the doorway, peering down and clearly shadowing you under his tall form. You had to take a breath and smile to break the tension you felt, as it was thick and heated. “I really should stop drinking here, anyway.”

“I’m happy to pick it up in your place,” he smirked, still standing right in front of you. If anyone had stepped out of their room, they’d see how close he was looming.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked hopefully, knowing full well that he could respond with an empty promise, and still be cold to you as he was today.

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

And he left without another word.

You awoke in the middle of the night to chaos in the hallway. You were surprised not to be plagued with nightmares for once, but the screams of your next door neighbor didn’t exactly settle you back into your pillows. You heard footsteps outside your door, and when you sat up, Ororo opened the door without knocking, the urgency of whatever situation that had happened started to set in.

“There’s been an accident,” she looked to you with an expression of fear and shock, leaving the doorway as soon as she could see you were scrambling to your feet.

You could feel the energy, it was all over the place. Kids were scared, and so were some of the adults, Ororo being one of them. You ran into the room, avoiding the touch of everyone you passed by, and stared at the scene playing out.

“What happened?” you rushed over to where Jean and Scott were hovering over Logan, his unconscious body thrown over the bed and seemingly in a state of paralysis.

“Rogue, she touched him,” Jean was working the best she could to try and keep him from death’s door, but even with her skilled hands, she looked afraid. “He’s fading quickly, she may have drained too much of his regeneration.”

You tried to think quickly on your feet. She drained his regenerative energy, but you could restore it. The manipulation of energy was clearly something you were all too familiar with, but you were afraid if his regeneration was too low that he might die from your mutation.

If he’s already going to die, you’re going to do the only thing you know how to try and save him.

“Jean, move,” you reach for him, and she practically dives out of the way of your bare hands.

“You’ll kill him!”

“Just trust me,” you said, your hands finding his shoulders. You heard gasps behind you when your skin met his, and they all started whispering, assuming that if he wasn’t dead before, he definitely was now.

You focused your energy on him, using what was inside of you and around you to build back up what had been inside of him. His mutation, his strength and endurance, and most of all, his healing capability.

“Alice, he’s dead,” Scott nearly scolded you, shaking his head. He wasn’t fond of the man, but that didn’t mean he wished him to die… and now he had, by your hand or Rogue he wasn’t sure. “What did you do?”

You ignored him, and all the ones whispering behind you. You could feel his life force, like a branch in the air around you, reaching out just the smallest bit, but not strong enough to hold growth yet. You were slowly building it, letting it stretch out until his own body could take it from there.

When he took a sharp inhale of breath and his chest started to rise and fall again, everyone nearly fell over out of shock. No one said a word yet, because they were too stunned to speak.

Logan was still in bad condition, but you trusted that his healing could help him out from here. You pulled him onto your lap, head resting against your body as you felt for a steady pulse, and saw the color returning to his hands and arms.

“I got you,” you whispered, holding him close. This was the first person that you’d ever been able to save with your touch, as before, it killed everyone who came across it.

“Alice?” Jean called from behind your shoulder, her mouth still agape and her eyes wide. “Alice!”

You looked to her, only slightly fearful that she may tell Charles about this, and then you’ll be in for an earful. He was the hand that guided you along the terrible pathways of your life, but he was also the one who reprimanded you when need be.

“He’s alright,” you promised her, but she still didn’t come closer. Scott however, was completely baffled and had a million questions.

“How did you do that? You can’t touch anyone-”

“I can touch him,” you answered shortly, your arms still wrapped tight around his limp form. “Just him.”

Jean shook her head and snapped out of her train of thought. There was too much to be asked, but this was not the time for it. Logan still needed more treatment, despite the help you gave. You stood up to accommodate her, keeping your eyes on Logan and making sure he was still okay. You could feel his energy restacking, like building blocks in the air around you.

“Start talking,” Scott pressed, the urgent situation now overshadowed by a need for answers. Ororo joined Scott in front of you, her expression holding more than just shock at this point. She looked nearly excited, but you couldn’t say why.

“I know him,” you said, trying to start slowly, but knowing the two of them, it wouldn;t be good enough. “When Striker had us, he got Logan, too. He doesn’t remember it, but he saved my life… yours too, Scott.”

“That…” he trailed, shaking his head. He’d done the same thing that you’d done. He blocked it out of his memory. That didn’t mean that it didn’t happen. You just had a better reason to remember it. “That can’t be possible… he’s touched you before?”

“He practically dragged me out of that cell,” you told him, and he recalled the day of the mutant prison break. He remembers a man helping them, but never imagined it could have been Logan.

“How is it possible? I’ve seen you drop some of the most powerful mutants where they stand, no one survives being touched by you,” Ororo was the one to pitch in this time, her question not so much one of what, but how?

“His regenerative ability. The way Charles used to explain my powers to me, he said to think of my skin like a radioactive energy poison. When such a poison is absorbed into one’s body it can cause it to shut down. My powers work the same way, just a thousand times stronger and faster. The thing is,” you pointed behind you, where Logan was slowly gaining small bits of health. “His regen mutation never allows my energy to be absorbed… I can’t kill him.”

“Scott?” Jean called from the ground, trying and failing to lift Logan on her own. “Gonna need a little help here. I need him in the med bay.”

Scott shook off the conversation, focusing on the matter at hand.

When Jean and Scott got Logan through the crowd of kids, they all dispersed back to their rooms. The only two remaining were you and Ororo.

She stared at you for a moment, wondering if you were going to leave, but then watched as you shuffled around in Logan’s things, looking for what you leant to him. You were hoping by some miracle that there would be some left.

“Aha,” you let out, grabbing the bottle from inside the dresser drawer, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. There wasn’t much, but there was enough to ease your mind at this late hour. “Want some?”

“You really think this is a good time to be drinking?” she scoffed, crossing her arms and watching you fall back onto the foot of his bed.

“I think it’s the perfect time to be drinking,” you held it out to her, wondering if she’d actually take it.

She tried to keep her adult habits outside of the school, but these were tumultuous times, and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to allow it under the circumstances.

Out of the silence, she turned to you, right as you took your next slow gulp of the smooth liquor.

“So,” her pause and sigh were unneeded. You knew what she was about to be getting on about. “You can touch him…”

“Yep,” you looked at her, a thin lipped smile on your face. You really didn’t have much else to say, but she did.

“I know you never got over Charlie,” she spoke gently, not wanting to pinch a nerve, or bring up bitterness in a moment like this. The calm after the storm, no pun intended. “But maybe this is your chance…”

“A chance to what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” she leaned into your eyeline, still careful to stray from any of your exposed skin.

“Yeah,” you muttered, “I know.” And then with the last swig in the bottle, you felt the warmth of the drink, and the tiniest bit of a buzz. “I don’t think Logan’s that kinda guy.”

“You don’t think he’d commit to a relationship?”

“I don’t think he’d commit to me,” you corrected, shrugging your shoulders. You wished you had more to drink after that revelation, but unfortunately, this empty bottle contained the only bit of alcohol on the entire property.

“He seems loyal, maybe you just need to know him better,” she encouraged, bumping her clothed shoulder with yours. Always a kind gesture, one of friendship and to show she held no fear of you like others did.

“He doesn’t even know himself,” you chuckled a little. It may have been a bit of a mean joke to make, because you can’t even imagine how hard it is for him, but still you laugh, because you know him better than he does. “I know who he was that day.”

“When he saved you?”

“Yeah, saved everyone,” you dropped your head, focusing on your hands and trying to keep your mind from falling down any bunny trails. “He was a hero. I think he still might be.”

“You should tell him that.”

“I did,” you chuckled, tossing the whiskey bottle back into the soft pillows of the bed to rid your hands of it. “He didn’t believe a word I was telling him…”

She sighed, knowing that with your stubbornness, and your fear of hurting people, you may opt to keep him at arms length, regardless of his ability to touch you. She knew about Charlie, and what you did to him. She knew you’d sworn off love since that day, over a hundred years ago… but she still had hope that this could turn into a part of your happiness.

“Don’t give up on him so fast, alright?” She asked, her eyes turning to that of a puppy dog, pulling at your heart and nearly making you comply.

“I won’t.”

Rogue went missing the next day, and while you’d been chomping at the bit to find her, you were unfortunately called to the office of the professor. You wondered if you were in for a stern talking to after the previous night’s events.

“Take a seat,” he began, staring out the open window at the setting sun, and the children on property who were playing in the grass before dark.

You did as you were told, not because you wanted to, but because you respected Charles enough to listen to whatever diatribe he was about to drone on.

“I’ve had quite a few people visit my office today on your account,” he turned his chair around, his face not one of disappointment like you thought it would be. He didn’t look upset at all, nor did he look like he was going to reprimand you for being careless with your abilities. “I must say, I was surprised to hear of what happened.”

“I know it was careless of me,” you defended, unknowing if it was even necessary, but wanting to cover your bases, anyways. “But I can explain.”

“There’s no need to put up an argument, my dear.”

“There’s not?”

He chuckled and shook his head, a small smile spreading over his cheeks. “Not at all. In fact, I’m actually quite happy for you.”

“Happy for me?” you asked another question, the reasoning for your visit becoming more unclear.

“I know how long you’ve suffered,” he sighed, his tone returning to something more serious. “I have felt your anger and bitterness towards your abilities. I’ve sensed your hatred of them for years.”

“That was before,” you tried to interject, to tell him how thankful you were for his training. “But you taught me they were not just a curse, but also a blessing.”

“And do you really think I believe you when you say it? Miss Beckett, I’ve known you more than half my life… I can read your mind without entering it by now.”

You knew that if anyone could understand you it was him. You could feel other’s energy, but when he entered someone’s mind he could feel that and so much more. He could feel emotions, think that person’s thoughts, and even see what they see.

“You knew all this time, then?”

“I did,” he nodded, but didn’t stop there. “I knew that no matter what I did, it wouldn’t change your burdens.”

You ducked your head, thinking back to the times you’d lied, telling everyone that things were better. Truthfully, as a person you felt less alone, less hated and less dangerous… but you never felt loved. You couldn’t. No one could, or wanted to touch you, knowing your mutation.

“Scott told me about Logan, how you’d all met once before,” he said, turning the conversation back around to that of a better note. “When you’d repressed the memories of what Agent Striker had done, you’d forgotten him… but you didn’t forget what he did for you, and you didn’t forget a special detail.”

“He touched me,” you filled in the blank, waiting for him to continue.

“Precisely.”

“I think…” you trailed, unsure of where this chat was going to lead. If Ororo had come to him, you were sure the thoughts exchanged the night before had come up, even if it was just meant to help you. “I think he may have feelings for… someone else.”

Charles nodded, he’d not purposely looked into Logan’s mind, but when Jean was stirring restlessly in the late evening, he took a peek inside hers, seeing the struggle to combat Logan and his advances.

“I understand,” he responded, but thought it was worth mentioning what he knew. “But his advances are pointless.”

“I still don’t want to get my hopes up,” you reasoned, a good point to be made considering his behavior towards you. “I’m getting too old for shit like this, you know?”

His understanding went without saying, he remembers your past, and knows of the only person you ever truly loved. It was a story for the ages with a tragic ending that would even make the bravest of men shed a tear.

“Of course.”

You waited for him to dismiss you, and when he nodded to you in finality, you stood up from your seat.

“Stay open minded, my dear, you don’t know where your path may lead.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, giving him a smile as you left the room.

“Thank you, Charles.”

First Ororo, and now Charles. Your biggest cheerleaders since they met you… you love them both, and want to listen to them, but you are older therefore wiser, and must protect yourself from things that aren’t good for you. Everyday you grow older but your face and body stay the same. Your mentality weakens when you realize you’ve still got so much life to live, and it burdens you more when you struggle to live it alone. Having someone by your side would be the answer to your every prayer, the reason you could keep going. But you know you can’t endure another heartbreak, you won’t survive it.

It’s been days, nearly a week. Your mind is frazzled, and you think that maybe it’s time for a break. A quiet time to let your mind rest and restore itself.

So much has happened, and you can’t put your finger on what was the most stressful part of it all. The quickness, the escalation, the chaos… or what it almost cost you.

Erik is temporarily defeated, but you know he’ll keep at it in the future. There were several mutants in his gathering that were unapprehended after the final battle. It will make for an interesting hunt that the X-men get to pursue.

One of which you wouldn't mind letting go about her business for a while. You knew Mystique when she went by Raven.

So much has changed since then, and you've changed with the time gone by.

There's still something on your mind after everything that's happened this week, and of course that something is Logan. His past, his present, and what he wants to do with his future.

He’s an X-man now, a part of the team and a member of the mutant family… but he searches for who he is, and you can sympathize with that, especially because of what he did for you. He didn’t just do it for you, but with the state you were in, he could have passed your cell, given up on you. Instead, he practically carried you out of that prison, never knowing how lethal your touch was. He saved you and gave you the greatest gift you’d received. Hope. A fresh start. The thought that life didn’t have to be such a burden.

The kids were settled in early this evening, after the late night that was pulled the day prior, they needed to catch up on their rest… but Logan was having a hard time sleeping. You were, too.

It was about eleven when he came knocking on the door, softly so nobody else would hear him. Ororo was behind the door next over from yours, her light on beneath the slit in that door, and he mentally kicked himself for even doing this at all, so late at night.

When you cracked open your own door, peeking through to see who it was, you were surprised at the man standing in the doorway.

“Logan? What are you doing up? It’s late…”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, just above the level you were speaking at, voice barely audible. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You were unsure of what there was to talk about, really. It had been radio silence since the mission, and you figured he wanted some space after something like that… it wasn’t unusual for an X-man, but you didn’t know him as well, so you didn’t know what you were supposed to expect.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and it was only now that you realized you’d been frozen in your spot, a furrowed brow worn on your face.

“Yeah, sorry.”

You closed the door behind him when he passed through, going back to your bed to sit down. He followed suit, and it was nearly a reverse image of the first night he arrived.

“I wanted to thank you,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound grateful. “For saving my life. Jean told me what you did.”

You smiled a little and scoffed, shaking your head and waving him off. “Don’t thank me… I actually endangered your life.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I? Whatever you did, it saved me.”

“I had no idea that it would, it could have gone either way,” you argued, not for the sake of being right, but because you didn’t want him to think you’d done something extraordinary or heroic. You were actually being quite selfish in your actions.

“You like to argue a lot, huh?” he teased, remembering the last one on one conversation you both had. You would admit, you didn’t like being wrong. You’d gotten it in your head that after being alive for so long, you ought to know more than everyone.

“Well, I am a lawyer,” you shrugged, a slight smirk on your face. You’d never practiced in a firm, or even got a law related job, but you liked to remind people of it here and there, it was always entertaining.

“I noticed that certificate on your wall the other night, noticed em’ all, actually…” he trailed, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check and make sure they were all still there. He’d come to the conclusion that you were intelligent the first time you met, your dialect being very formal for the age he thought you were… but above that, you carried yourself in a way that spoke to being knowledgeable.

“Oh, those?” you laughed, tilting your head and making a silly face in their direction. “Those are nothing, just reminders of all the times I’ve been bored.”

“Bored? You’re kidding me,” he mused, crossing his arms and chuckling.

“Maybe I also wanted to better myself a little,” you answered truthfully, rolling your eyes after getting it out. He didn’t seem like the scholarly type. Not a bad thing by any means, but you were sure his abilities far accelerated him in other occupations before he ended up here.

“Well whatever the reason, you’ve clearly done good,” he complimented, and you were certainly not complaining. Getting compliments from your friends, from your mutant family, it uplifted you… but getting a compliment from him? It felt different, more weighted. “And whatever you did to save me, that was good too.”

“I didn’t even know it would work,” you huffed, looking down at your hands. You hadn’t touched him since he came in, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were doing so purposely, or if you just hadn’t gotten the opportunity. “I honestly thought I might kill you faster…”

“Then why would you have tried it?” He couldn’t believe you. A smart girl like you, with the power you held? It seemed out of character to make a decision like that.

“Honestly?” you raised your brows, thinking of a sentence that didn’t sound weird, or selfish. “I was scared you were gonna die before I could know you.”

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. “You want to know me?”

“I do,” you nodded with a sheepish smile. Thank God for the darkness in the room, because you’re sure your face is turning red. “I mean, it’s not everyday that I meet someone I can shake hands with, so…”

He laughed a little, reaching out playfully for a handshake. You smiled wide, taking his hand and giving it a nice firm shake. You’ve shaken hands when wearing gloves, but it’s just not the same. You’ve touched others while wearing them, too. But the skin contact you’ve always been deprived of, it’s something that sends chills down your spine, no matter how simple the gesture is. Even just a handshake.

“I’d like you to know me too, but there’s just one problem with that,” he sighs, shaking his head in a bit of something akin to sadness. “I don’t know me.”

You can’t stand to see that look on his face. His hand was still wrapped around yours, now resting on his knee and near your lap. An idea springs to your mind, and though it’s a terrible one, you think about all the good it could produce in the long run.

“What if I could help you remember?” You suggested, grabbing his attention almost immediately. “You’ve said you don’t remember anything past fifteen years ago… that’s when you saved me from Striker.”

“You think you could help me?”

“I can try, I owe it to you.” Your reasoning made him turn the idea over in his head, but he wasn’t sure of how you planned to help him, exactly. “Something must have happened that day to make you forget… we can go back to the base, look for answers, see if anything triggers your memories?”

It was a bold move, but you had to take it. No matter what happened the other night, you still owe him your life, and this could be a way to even the playing field.

“You’d take me there?” he asked sincerely, a bit surprised that you would even offer, considering what he knew of your time in that prison. You shouldn’t want to return at all, but what’s worse is you want to do it for him.

“I would… If you want me to.”

He grinned, his look of bewilderment still laced in. “I would be grateful, if you could.”

“It’s settled then.”

He nodded to you, and you both gave a glance to the door. It was time to say goodnight, though you wanted him to stay and talk till sunrise. You had so many questions, about him, about his life since Striker, and even about his abilities… but it would have to wait till another time.

He got up, and you followed, getting to the door before you heard voices outside of it.

“It’s Ororo,” you sighed, turning to him and huffing. “I don’t know who she’s talking to…”

“I better not let her see me sneaking around this late,” he said, looking back at you with a comical expression. “I have a feeling that she’ll tattle on me.”

“You’re right, she would.” You stood with your ear to the door, hearing that the other voice in the hall was Jean. They were talking about you, and you figured it was not a good time to let the Wolverine go traipsing out of your room. “You know, you don’t have to go… if you don’t want to. You could just stay here tonight.”

His smirk held a bout of confidence before he spoke, “You sure I’m not crowding your space?”

“I’ve got plenty of room,” You nodded to the queen bed you’d stood up from. In all truthfulness, it was a big bed to sleep in alone, and you’d been forced to for over a decade. “You also just happen to be the only person who wouldn’t die if I accidentally kicked you in the middle of the night.”

He laughed, nodding his head. He didn’t want to leave in the first place, he just felt like maybe he’d been imposing. Tough luck on that, because if you had your way, he’d stay longer than just the night.

“With an argument like that, how can I say no?”

“I might not sleep for a while, though… so if you wanna turn in, be my guest,” you sat back on the bed, shoving your walkman with the headphones to your side so he could settle in next to you.

“Couldn’t really sleep already, that's why I came here in the first place.” He started eyeballing the walkman, scooting in closer to where you sat, legs crossed and back against your pillows and headboard. “You got music?”

“Oh, uh… yeah, just a little mixtape I’ve been listening to.”

You’d just rewound the tape earlier, and almost put it over your ears when you found you couldn’t sleep. Maybe it would have settled the noise in your brain… but Logan seemed to do a pretty good job of that, too.

“May I?” He gently reached for the set, and your heart stuttered in beat when you saw the sweet look in his eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” You handed it over with a smile, no hesitation, even though this new mixtape was built primarily on the feelings for him you’d been fighting. “It’s mostly just girl stuff…”

He put the headphones on and started listening, and you felt a bit awkward just watching him listen to the music, unsure if he would piece anything together or not.

The first song played was Fields of Gold by Sting… just a soft ballad that made you think of what life might be like if things were different.

By the second song, you pulled the plug of the headphones, letting the music play softly through the speaker instead so you could both hear it. It felt much better when you could listen to the music yourself. Music always calmed you down, made you feel more at ease.

You helped him fast forward through some of the songs he seemed bored during, but he stopped you on a few, nodding his head and smiling as the music filled his ears.

“You like this one?” You asked, watching him start tapping his fingers to the song I Was Made For Lovin’ You by Kiss.

“This is my kinda music, right here,” he laughed, letting loose a little, breaking down his tough exterior just slightly so you could see the softness lurking behind.

The noise from outside your door had long gone, but Logan didn’t seem eager to leave whatsoever… you did after all invite him to stay.

When the song Wicked Game came on, you opted to skip it, and he grabbed the tips of your fingers to pull your hand away and ask why. The intro kept playing, the somber guitar filling the air between you.

“It’s a sad song, kinda haunting,” you explained, but the real reason you were trying to skip it was because you’d rewound this one a bit too much when thinking about him, the lyrics seeming to match up to every time you looked at him the way you were now. “It’s not as fun as the others.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, taking the walkman and holding it so that you couldn’t skip the song yet.

World was on fire, and no one could save me but you

Strange what desire will make foolish people do

You looked up at him and he seemed to really be into the music, but his brow was furrowed, like he was thinking about it in real time.

I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you

You had to look away from him for a moment, your face turning red and your eyes falling to your lap.

And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you

No, I don’t wanna fall in love

No, I don’t wanna fall in love… with you

You took a glance back up, seeing his face and the way it seemed to turn almost upset by the lyrics. You almost thought about reaching for the walkman, but his death grip on it looked too strong to break.

“The next one is pretty good,” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood. He broke out of his trance and nodded, handing the device back to you.

The smooth and laid back energy returned to the room, and you could feel the peace of it engulfing you as you absorbed the energy from the air. It fed you, made you stronger, happier.

You couldn’t even help yourself by the time it got to the end of the playlist, the last song making you quietly sing aloud in front of someone you barely know… which was strange considering you wouldn’t even sing in front of your dearest and closest friends.

The song just did that to you… it used to remind you of a love you once lost, but because of the lyrics, you were starting to associate the beautiful melody with another face. The one looking back at you with a small lip tug of a smile.

The song in question? More Than Words by Extreme.

You didn’t look at him when you sang it, because you were already falling too hard, too fast. You needed to slow down… but just thinking about the lyrics…

More than words, is all you have to do to make it real

Touching someone for the first time is more than words can express… sitting side by side with someone without fear of hurting them means more than words could possibly say.

When the song ended you stopped the tape, setting it to rewind and putting it over on your bedside table.

“Not bad… that last one, I’ve heard it a few times somewhere else. It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I like it better than the others,” you said jokingly, as if he couldn’t already tell by how easily the words came out of your mouth. “Saved the best for last, right?”

“I’d say so,” he wouldn’t look anywhere else but you, and you felt so powerless under his stare. You were folding in record time, and honestly at this point, you’d count it as a miracle if you made it out of this night without ruining it all.

“You tired yet?” you asked, changing the subject and pulling back your sheets.

“I’m getting there…”

His soft and pretty hazel eyes were starting to make you wish you’d not invited him. He was making this difficult. You wanted to know him, and not just physically. There would be time for that, but you had to wait and make sure he was the one. You weren’t willing to let yourself love him to the ends of the earth if you weren’t going to be able to keep him. It would just haunt you for the rest of your long and burdened life.

“Me too, but uh… I’m gonna try and finish my book,” you smiled, reaching for the novel on your bedside table. Fahrenheit 451. “So, just turn in whenever you’re tired.”

He debated asking you about the book, but ultimately decided that he’d bothered you enough for one night. It seemed like something he might research himself, if it was something you like. You obviously have good taste in music, maybe he ought to give reading the same books as you a try.

He’d never admit it, because it wasn’t like him to do such a thing, but he liked being around you. Liked touching you. The energy you gave off was pleasant, and every time your skin connected, he absorbed a little bit of it from you. Something that would kill anyone else, he got to experience first hand.

He smiled and lied down, giving a glance over his shoulder before he settled in. Your bed was warmer than his, more comfortable, too. “G’night, Alice.”

Your grin compared to his was like a young schoolgirl, completely and utterly lovestruck for the boy you met last week.

“Night, Logan.”

Tags: @ayamenimthiriel @levislegislation @reidsworld @melsunshine @clairealeehelsing

#logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan xmen #logan wolverine #x men wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #hugh jackman #x men

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qs63 · 2 days ago

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Not really a plot hole. The stone Works.

I think you're confusing the toll and the sin. The space where Truth exists is like a prison for the sinners. The toll is paid to open the door, which is the way out of prison. The price is equivalent to what you hold most dear/want the most, that is the weight of the sin. Unique to each person.

Al got unlucky, the price for his sin is his whole body. The reason he's trapped is because by opening the door and getting out he would lose his body and become a disembodied soul. We saw this happen right after the transmutation, his soul ended up inside the monstrosity they created, but then that body was rejected. Now he's trapped for good. He doesn't have anything to pay his toll with because he can't just be a disembodied soul out there.

The stone works because as you said, Ed opened the door with it. If it didn't work, Ed would have had to pay the toll AGAIN and lose yet another body part, but he didn't because a Xerxes soul was sacrificed instead. Ed just didn't randomly open the door. He committed the taboo all over again by recreating himself. Now Truth has Ed's left leg from Ed's first sin, and one Xerxes soul from Ed's second sin.

Eventually Ed paid Aľs toll by sacrificing his own door. The door that opens is Al's door not Ed's. So someone else can definitely pay the price for you.

Roy getting his sight back is nothing different from what the Elrics had done multiple times already. The manga dialogue is very specific about this. Marcoh says: you can use this stone to pay the TOLL and get your eyesight back. Envy explains that Ed would use his stone to pay the TOLL. And Truth also tells Ed the TOLL is to open the door. No one is healing Roy. He's getting his eyesight back himself by exchanging the cost of getting out of prison from his eyesight to a soul in the stone. Just like Ed did with his second sin, and like Ed did once again on Al's behalf (just trading his own door instead of a soul).

The reason Hohenheim didn't offer this to Izumi is simple. He wouldn't offer his or someone else's soul so easily. Particularly because he believes in personal responsibility, and Izumi is not his — or any Xerxes person's — responsibility. Unlike the brothers, who are his responsibility, this is why he offered Ed HIS OWN soul. Plus, I doubt he was planning to use any of the souls before confronting Father, which is probably why he didn't offer this option to Al or Ed until the very end. He has priorities.

Anyway, the part I do find confusing is that Ed couldn't get his leg back when he used the stone to pay the toll the second time. The best explanation I have for this is that you need to pay separately for each sin. So Ed couldn't get his leg back because he was paying for the new sin and would've had to give up two souls instead of one to get his leg back too.

I think one of the few genuine plotholes in Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood & Manga) is the fact that Roy Mustang can get healed by the Philosopher's Stone in the end.

Hear me out.

Quite often, when something isn't answered in the text of fma(b), the answer can still be procured by building up from the existing canon. The magic system of the world is solid and consistent enough for us to create very solid and coherent world building.

Which is why it always irked me in the end when the Stone works on Roy's eyes.

Why?

Because it is heavily implied that not even a Stone has the power to restore what was lost to the Gate. This is of course, not something we as the audience know or believe from the get-go. We are introduced to the Stone via the Elric brothers, who mostly just know that this mystical stone can do the unthinkable. The impossible.

But, as we later learn, not even the Stone can bring back the dead. Death is eternal and cannot be reversed. It is one of the hard truths of the show. No matter how much power you hold, you cannot bring back the dead.

Even Father's showing in the last fight, when he brings back the people of Xerxes, fails to actually deliver on Hohenheim's taunt of "creating life" - because he is just returning souls he already carries within him to the physical realm.

So, that's the first limitation of the Philosopher's Stone firmly established.

But there's a second one.

We know the Stone can heal - Marcoh uses it to heal countless people in his town, some even from deadly diseases and such. We see Father heal Edward's broken arm and create an entirely new arm for Alphonse after his got eaten. Edward uses his own soul like a Stone to close the wound in Baschool, so, yes, healing is firmly within the realms of the Stone.

It is probably far more effective than Alkehistry when it comes to healing, because it CAN ignore the boundaries of the body. I'd actually go so far and say that someone talented and medically knowledgeable could maybe even restore a limb with the help of a Philosopher's Stone. We've seen it do the impossible after all.

But I don't think a Philosopher's Stone could ever actually restore Ed's limbs. Not in the classical sense at least.

Why?

Because when Hohenheim encounters Izumi and tries to help her, he cannot restore her lost organs. He cannot walk that path for her. He can heal her - he rearranges her inner organs and heals the open wounds within her gut, probably giving her another ten years of healthier living, but he cannot return to her what is lost.

He also never offers Ed to give him his limbs back, even after everything has been revealed and they're preparing for the Promised Day.

(He does promise to sacrifice himself for Al in the end, but we'll get to that in a bit)

This is something the Elrics don't know - they don't know what Hohenheim did and did not do for Izumi. They believe, up to the end, that they could restore their bodies with a Philosopher's Stone, but they choose not to.

I think, actually, that Hohenheim might be the only one who knows that it is not possible.

Because what they have lost was a price paid for pushing past the boundaries of humanity, it is a punishment for arrogance just as much as it is a toll for knowledge gained. They didn't lose their organs during childbirth, their arms and legs on the battlefield. All of them walked into god's domain and paid the price.

It is the Unforgivable Sin, after all, the Ultimate Taboo.

This is not something you can reverse by paying a bribe (the souls of the stone) - not unless there's a personal sacrifice bound to it as well.

Which is why it probably would have worked if Hohenheim had given his own life for Alphonse - because it would have been the sacrifice of a father for his son. Equivalency restored.

To get back what you've lost from the Gate, there needs to be an Equivalent Exchange - and the souls of strangers don't do it in the Eye of Truth.

Which doesn't mean that you cannot open the Portal of Truth with a Philosopher's Stone. We've seen it. It is possible. But never once successfully when it comes to the restoration of a body. You can push through the Gate using a Stone, you can heal, you can force someone else through the Gate... but you cannot restore what the Gate itself has taken.

That is a much more personal gamble, a much more personal exchange.

It is the second limitation of the Stone: you cannot gain back the toll you paid for stumbling into god's realm without sacrificing something yourself.

Which brings me to my original point: the fact that Roy Mustang's eye sight could be restored using a Stone.

It's a plot hole.

It is one of the few plot holes in the show/manga, and even as I write this, I am trying to think of a watsonian explanation. Maybe it's because Roy didn't do the human transmutation out of his own free will. Maybe it's because he was forced through. Maybe it's because Truth feels responsible for what happened to him. Maybe the story is lenient to him and his wish to see the future.

But the truth remains, that every time I encounter this story, that part of it trips me up.

And now you know it too.

#roy mustang #edward elric #alphonse elric #van hohenheim #fma meta

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mischiefmaker615 · 2 days ago

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I Feel Like I'm Drowning

Summary/Inspiration: "I Feel Like I'm Drowning" by Two Feet

Requester: @Nefilia_ (wattpad)

Note: i got a TINY bit of inspiration from Indiana Jones LOL when you know, you know.

Rating: PG-14

The heavy door swung open, having you nearly jump out of your skin and drop your pencil before your eyes landed on the second prince of Asgard in the doorway.

‘’m-my prince- I was not expecting you-‘’ you fumbled for words, a hand quickly dropping to brush your dress with any dirt that didn’t seem to exist.

‘’you normally never expect patients darling, my appearance shouldn’t surprise you either.’’ Loki chuckled and took a step into your healing room, cape brushing against the floor lightly behind him while his hands stayed clasped behind his back.

‘’right- let me just get situated- your majesty-!’’ you said and bowed your head quickly, having almost forgotten while you sucked in a breath to calm yourself.

‘’you really have nothing to worry about lady Y/N, I’m sure you’ve seen me in here far enough times to know I will not bite you.’’ Loki smirked and moved to the table, proceeding to sit on it rather than usually laying down on his back like what was normally required.

His mystery injury must not be that severe.

‘’yes well.. you just startled me- that’s all.’’ You said quietly and set down your pencil and scroll onto the table just behind him.

His head tilted to watch you over his shoulder while a hand rested in his lap, leaning more of his weight on his other upon the table while he stayed silent.

There was more silence than conversation amongst you two, both seeming to want to talk to the other but bravery falling sort to where you worked in silence. Needless to say while the other wasn’t looking, the other one most certainly was. Even now while you moved around the healing room- gathering a few common medical supplies, Loki’s eyes seemed to study you.

His expression was gentle, soft and never missing a single feature from any movement or expression you gave. Often times it would have you blush when you noticed his stares but didn’t dare talk to much on comfort terms with a royal.. you were a simple healer after all.

‘’what needs to be done today my prince?” you asked, setting down a small tray beside him on the table before moving to stand in front, your eyes searching for any form of injury.

‘’it would seem something not so exciting today, but an injury all the same.’’ Loki lightly chuckled, holding up his hand to present a small cut that ran along side his finger. It seemed fresh, blood still threatening to spill while you leaned forward to examine it more.

Loki took this small chance to fall into temptation, his gaze flicking ever so quickly to take in your chest before they switched back to your eyes when you stood back straighter.

‘’well the pleasant news it my prince, you will live to see another day.’’ You smiled and sat down beside him, the small tray being the only thing between you both while you began looking over supplies.

You often wondered why he didn’t just heal himself. His abilities were more than capable, and something this small would barely even tire him compared to if it was a much more fatal injury- which he never came in with. So far you have seen mild bumps, bruises and cuts. All in exposed places and all looking a few seconds fresh from when he would first enter your domain. Dare you believe it was just an excuse to see you and you would often laugh at the thought. A royal had better things to do than to waste time faking injuries to see not-so-special you. Which is why you didn’t hesitate to get started while he kept his hand in your reach.

‘’..Y/N..’’

His quiet voice almost felt like a caress to your cheek, having you pause to raise your eyes to find his awaiting ones. Those eyes.. enough to have your cheeks redden regardless what his intent in them was. He was gorgeous. Distracting even, and found it hard to use words around him when they threatened to continue making you look like a fool. Like now.

‘’you should think much better of yourself darling.. your far more precious than you know..’’

His quiet words had your hands still, the bandage cloth slipping from your fingers while you gazed at him with slowly widening eyes. You dared asked a royal a question- but you couldn’t help it while his eyes seemed to make you forget everything for a moment.

‘’..how do you know?” you whispered, your bottom lip being captured between your teeth while your hands moved to self-consciously play with the fabric of your dress.

His eyes lowered ever so slightly, for once seeming like he didn’t know how to answer before they raised to yours again, just as soft but this time concerned. ‘’you’ve told me several times darling.. but the words never got past your lips..’’

That’s right.. oh gods..- his mind reading abilities. Your eyes widened to the realization and your mind raced as to every little thing you possibly had thought of him that he may have read. Your eyes quickly dropped down to your lap and you saw him in the corner of your eye fidget and turn his body more towards you with a raised hand.

‘’I’m sorry I didn’t mean- …I couldn’t help it..’’ Loki exhaled, giving up any possibly thought of trying to cleverly get out of this and just chose honesty instead while he studied the side of your face. ‘’i.. had my suspicions..’’

Your brow raised and looked at him, confusion now swarming your eyes now while you took a careful breath in to speak. ‘’suspicions?.. for my feelings for you?” you asked quietly, not even daring to deny anything to the one god who could tell when you were.

‘’well.. I’ve stumbled upon that fact much more recent than upon my original intent..’’ he sighed, his eyes moving down to his own lap in thought before he moved back to your eyes, his gaze a little more serious and ready to catch your reaction. ‘’the people amongst you have voiced their.. suspicions.. claiming dark intent you may have towards the royals- who it specifically be, was unclear..’’

‘’I would never-!” you gawked, a hand flying to your mouth and Loki’s expression seeming to relax upon seeing your honest reaction.

‘’I know you wouldn’t darling.. I just needed to make sure of it myself.. so I began showing up.. faking injuries or causing some in hopes for a chance to look into your thoughts.. there was no ill intent found.. soon after your presence became favorable.. and I couldn’t quite bring myself to break my routine in hopes to get a chance to see you..’’ Loki said carefully, raising his hand and taking in a sharp inhale to where with a simple flash, the cut upon his finger was healed. He lowered his hand and drew his gaze back on you, looking guilty while you tried to hide your own thoughts.

Who was it spreading these rumors that you would betray a royal?- he’s been reading your mind for that long? ..you understood his intent, on why he would investigate.. but how could someone like him think you’d be capable? How exactly did he see you? Did this small friendship mean nothing more than just an act to find out you were innocent? Did he merely come back to play with your emotions and amuse himself?-

His sharp inhale brought you to look at him, seeing how his eyes were closed and his brows furrowed, indicating he may be in slight pain or discomfort where you immediately got to your feet and instinctually looked him over for any injuries. ‘’my prince- are you alright?”

Loki merely nodded and exhaled through his nostrils, willing him body to relax while his palms rested at his knees. ‘’I’m fine Y/N.. forgive me but I have no intent on violating your thoughts.. but your mind is loud and demands my attention..’’ he said apologetically while he opened his eyes to look at you with a guilty look.

At first you thought you did something wrong, hugging your arms while your eyes panicked ‘’I’m s-sorry I don’t-‘’

‘’it is not your fault darling, it comes with the ability and I haven’t quite mastered nor sot out the interest to shut you out.. any attempts I’ve made merely has made me feel like I have been drowning..’’ he confessed and your body slowly untensed, trying to figure out what exactly he had said with denial swarming in your gut.

Was that a confession?

‘’it’s killing me slowly darling.. but when I’ve returned here after finding you harmless and the rumors to be untrue, that feeling seems to vanish..’’ he continues and curls his fingers to be weak fists against his thighs. ‘’so I found more excuses to return here.. knowing any other way may compromise your position here due to our..’’ he paused and looked at you, suddenly making you self-conscious of your plain dress while he literally sat before you in armor and a cape. ‘’well.. amongst my absences until today. I’ve rid of those pesky rumors upon you..’’ he sighed and looked away, the door seeming more interesting in the moment then gazing upon you with the heavy confession that he favored your presence and felt guilty at it’s beginning.

You didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to think-.. your body gazed upon the prince and you felt your limbs shaking at the realization that you had felt his same longing, despite you best attempts to dismiss it with self-loathing. Despite how self-conscious he could make you feel, he’s often made you feel beautiful in your own skin, and that new found confidence was enough to have you slowly step forward until you were half a step away from him while he looked up at you from where he sat.

He manspread, his powerful thighs supporting his hands while you closed more of the gap between you. Your fingers fidgeted together in front of you, eyes looking over Loki with a shaky breath but a racing heart at what you wanted. ‘’..where does it hurt?’’ you whispered.

Loki looked at you carefully, his expression almost unreadable if you weren’t paying attention. Due to his height, he barely had to tilt his chin upwards to look at you, but seeing him all the same slightly lower filled you with confidence, especially with his compliance.

Raising a single finger- the finger he claimed to have been injured earlier, he pointed it lightly to his chest at where his heart would be.

Bending down slowly, your eyes held onto his gaze until a hand supported a bit of your balance above your knee while your other hand slowly reached out to be placed at his chest. Dare you claim his eyes wavered to try to look down the top of your dress and you couldn’t deny you caught them slipping every now and again before your lips parted. Leaning forward, you kept your movements slow and ready to stop if he uttered a single syllable at his palace position.

He didn’t.

You pressed your lips gently against the leather where he had pointed, his hand hesitating in the air and a breath drawing into his lungs at your gesture. Once you’ve raised your head with hesitation in your eyes, his admiring ones encouraged you to relax before his hand moved again.

This time he rested it at his temple, insinuating his pain what on his mind, not just his heart. Now you raised both hands to rest against his shoulders, moving your body a bit closer between his thighs while he looked up at you in awe before slowly closing your eyes. You hesitated this time, looking over his features and how beautiful he is.. he looked sculpted, every detail taken in mind and not a flaw making itself know to you.

Leaning a little at an angle, you gently pressed your lips against his temple. His skin was soft, smooth and not as warm as you would expect. His scent enveloped your senses, hinting at pine and masculinity and you found yourself hovering for just a second more before you leaned back to face him again, finding his eyes open and a small smile at his lips.

This time he pointed to his lips.

Your heart practically jumped, imitating the scare you had not to long ago when he showed up at your door but it’s also traveled down to your gut and between your thighs. The blush helped you focus rather than the growing arousal at the mere idea of kissing the prince, let alone the suggestion he was making right here and now.

This was so against the rules at your position, you could be imprisoned or banished.. despite at the prince’s request upon the act. The hesitation showed, and Loki’s expression softened to understanding while he reached up a hand to rest at your cheek, your body instantly leaning into his touch with a sudden calm washing over you.

‘’it’s alright Y/N.. I promise..’’ he whispered, looking up as if he was begging for it.

You bit your lip, truly wanting it while lust seemed to seep into our senses where it worked at convincing you to give it, don’t care about anything else. Loki’s other hand slowly reached out, running along your clothes thigh before it rested at that part just below your ass. His hand at your reach then slowly moved to the back of your head, cradling it before he offered a little bit of pressure to pull you down forward until he had his nose brushing up against yours.

His chin tilted up, eagerly meeting you more than half way while his eyes fell closed and his lips brushed against yours with teasing pressure. A soft hum left your lips, feeling a small shiver down your spine while your own eyes fell closed to relish in the sensation of his lips. He had hesitated with a gentle brush, wanting to see if you wanted this just as much as he did and you gladly gave in to your inner craving before you could think twice.

Leaning forward on your own accord, your lips pressed against his with a bit more pressure, finding them soft and smooth with all the best parts of wine that hinted in your exchange. A soft moan left his lips, eagerly pressing you firmly to his mouth before you felt his tongue gently glide across your bottom lip in which you gladly obliged.

This was no rush, no aggression, no demand. This was all running along desperation, longing and wanting. You felt yourself press yourself up against him, your chest against him while the hand at your thigh moved up to keep you pressed against him by your waist. His other hand tangled its fingers in your hair, making you shiver and moan against him while you dreamed to do the same thing.

‘’touch me..’’ he murmured against your lips, seeming to know your wants before he encouraged his tongue into your mouth with a gentle hum. He rubbed against yours, the grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly at the erotic passion while you eagerly rose your fingers up to his soft locks.

They were softer than you thought they would be and far more pleasant than in your dreams. He seemed to growl at the slight pressure, urging his actions to become more passionate while he held you as if you were going to disappear.

‘’gods Y/N.. you’re killing me so slowly when I am not with you..’’ he breathed, almost hearing the pain in his voice while his nose ghosted against your cheek to turn his lip’s attention to your neck.

‘’L-Loki..’’ you whispered, your chin tilting to the ceiling with your eyes closed while you felt him suck at your sensitive skin and hum.

Just before you gained the courage to start bringing your hand down towards his pants- there was a quick knock at your door that had you both jump and separate, a small flash in the corner of your eye that hinted he had used a quick spell to have you two more presentable while one of your leads poked her head in.

‘’Y/N you- your majesty-!’’ she gave a quick bow and straightened herself more into a better strict attitude rather than the casual one she would have given if a royal hadn’t have been present. ‘’we have a few patients that need some attention when you are finished..’’

‘’alright, I’ll see to them when I am finished.’’ Y/N mustered up your voice to sound more professional while your hands clasped behind your back, seeing how Loki smirked and crossed his arms while the lead bowed again and disappeared with the door shut.

‘’I’ll see to it that I let you tend to our warriors then,’’ Loki started and stood up to your hidden disappointment but the thought must have made him turn to face you with a reassuring look and a returning hand to your cheeks.

‘’do not worry darling, I intend on making daily visits for a checkup, perhaps I shall return tonight as to finish where we’ve left off..’’ his smirk turned almost devilish while you looked up at him with a blush.

‘’you have no idea the things you do to me Y/N..’’

DM a song for you're very own Loki Musical Mischief one shot :D

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85

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#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #lokifluff #loki x reader smut #loki #loki smut #Youtube

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biteyoubiteme · 3 hours ago

Note

Happy 1k!!!!

Now beautiful, I'd like a Vampire!TXT thoughts/hc and of course some biting i know you like that and make it suggestive

me to you tonight

vampire!txt headcanons

warnings:🔞!!! fem!reader, mentions of blood, biting, oral (f!rec) prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.0k total

an: ily mae thank you, you're making me blush, if anyone was going to bite me I would ask you first. I hope you like this! also your yeonjun posts about him being a phlebotomist (and my babysitter's a vampire) influenced taehyuns part <333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

yeonjun .ᐟ

very into keeping his hands on you because of your warmth, loves to feel how your flush travels along your body when he traces patterns on you. Feeling you blush is even better when you're making out. Loves to feel the heat in your cheeks while he cups them, peppering kisses anywhere he feels the blush has spread. Will bite your ass just to leave a mark. Loves to bite your thighs. Loves when he lays his head in your lap and you play with his hair. Easy for him to just twist around and nip at your flesh, will kiss over the marks he makes to get the blood on his lips. Kisses exchanged so you can taste yourself. Loves to eat you out with the taste of your blood in his mouth. His two favorite flavors mixing drives him insane. Let’s his fangs brush over your clit just to see you jump. Could spend hours going between feeding on your blood and your wetness.

soobin .ᐟ

an obsessive biter without even realizing it. So confused to see teeth marks all over you like he wasn't the one doing it. Loves to bite over your heart, teeth sinking right into your breast. Dragging his teeth over your sides and along your ribcage before nipping at your sensitive nipples. Loves to get you low cut tops so that he can see all the little healing marks he's left on your cleavage. Loves to overfeed, your reaction is so similar to overstimulation that it gets him going just as much. He will take the best care of you as you recover from long nights where he couldn't contain himself. Spendslots of time cuddling, fingers tracing over every puncture mark he's made with his fangs, connecting the dots like constellations. Will ask to feed whenever and wherever unashamed about his need to taste you at all times. Will bury his face into the crook of your neck and huff if you say no. But you give in soon enough after all his soft kisses over your pulse.

beomgyu .ᐟ

has the best sense of sound and smell. Loves to tease you about hearing your heartbeat, can tell it’s you from a mile away just from the sound alone. He constantly jumps out from behind corners just to sense the way your blood pressure jumps, even better when he can tell just by walking in a room that he affects you. “Aww, do you think I'm pretty?” and even as you try to deny it he can hear the rhythm of your heart giving away your lies. Loves to be a lie detector, asking you questions he knows you would never really answer honestly in the beginning but why even hide now? He wants to know everything about you. Now you just purposefully lie because you know he can tell the difference. Can tell as soon as a single horny thought enters your head. You're his favorite smell in the world. Will buy a hoodie for the two of you to share, passing it from you to him just so he can keep your scent close to him at all times. Is a lip-biter when you make out just so that he can have your blood in the mix, keeps all your dirty clothes, and regularly masturbates with them pressed to his nose without shame.

taehyun .ᐟ

is very picky about who he feeds from and it has everything to do with taste and smell, believing he won't ever find the perfect person. He works at a blood bank as a phlebotomist, never tempted to drink anything he draws because of his self-control and distaste. That is until he gets you in his chair. Absolutely overwhelmed by the sensation of hunger for what felt like the first time in his life. He's never had shaking hands when trying to insert a needle before but as soon as he leans in he can't do his job calling someone else to take over. Claiming he couldn't find a vein when he was known for never missing one. He watched the way his coworker discarded the gauze that had wiped away the dots of blood from your elbow ditch, making sure to note exactly where they had thrown them away. He wasn't even ashamed to have pulled them out when no one was looking, taking them into the bathroom because he couldn't wait to get home. Pressing the fabric to his nose as he shoved his free hand down his pants, not caring about being at work when he finally found exactlywhat he had been waiting for.

Taehyun also gives me a vampire x vampire vibe so much. Worships his vampire mate because it is what he was made to do.

kai .ᐟ

likes to hold hands because he can feel your pulse between your fingers. Always kisses your wrist, likes to keep it on his lips just to feel the warmth. Will ask you if he can just keep holding your wrist up through movies and cuddling. He asks so often that you're already ready, laying down letting him rest his head on one arm while the other is pressed right under his nose. Never bites you; actively avoids the topic like the plague, is tempted but never indulges, won't even ask.It's why when he finally does bite you both of you are so shocked, unable to think about exactly what's happening. Bites in a moment of passion, his moan against your neck making his teeth scratch along your smooth skin, biting down without being able to resist any longer. Both of you have the best orgasms of your lives. He's so apologetic, kissing over the mark he left, begging you to forgive him and yet it turns into desperate pleas for him to do it again and again. “I'm so sorry i- I didn't mean to, I just- you just- please, please, I need to taste you again, I'm sorry-” looks at you like you set the moon in the sky when you say he can. Hazy puppy dog eyes on you, soft grin on his lips when he's gotten his fill, strictly only biting you during sex, leaving the both of you sated and happy after.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

#cams!1kevent #cams!hardhours #txt headcanons #txt #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #txt x reader #yeonjun hard hours #soobin hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #taehyun hard hours #huening kai hard hours

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in-death-sacrifice · 7 hours ago

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Pleasant Suprise's

Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook

(Antivan Crow Rogue)

Warning: Violence, Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort (not proof read)

Summary: After a year of thinking he's dead, it's time to save him and bring him back only he's different this time

The mention of his name had made your blood run cold as the group were fangirling over the infamous assassin made you uneasy. That part of your past had to be buried after you joined Varric, using his work as a base to move forward from him. Treviso was never really the same once he disappeared the coffee shop visits with Illario didn't hit the same as the ones you did with him. You held onto hope that anything could happen that he still could have been okay despite everything. I mean the sky was ripped open in the south by a blighted self made god a few years ago...literally anything could happen.

You sat on the edge of Varric's bed as he rambled on about whatever information he could offer or the book he was thinking about writing as he healed. "You alright kid?" His rough voice startled you, breaking you out of his trance. You blinked at him, trying to get your brain to catch up with the conversation. Varric only chuckled, groaning lightly as he adjusted himself against the cushions. "Yeah...no I'm good, I think" you rambled looking over to the dwarf, your chin now resting on your hands. "Spit it out kid"

The sigh that left your lips was comical, earning another laugh from your companion. How could you just explain the situation? You weren't going to leave him in the prison they were keeping him in you knew that much, but so much had happened since then. You spent a lot of time mourning him, wishing there was something you could have done that made him listen to you when you asked him to stay away from the boat. " 'The Demon of Vyrantium'...I know him from the Crows" you began. Only to be cut off by another laugh, "I assumed that much kid, you are also a Crow or have you forgotten"

You scoffed, but his charm was working, the words felt easier to release in the peacefulness between the two of you. The trust and bond you had created with Dwarf often felt like it ran deep than hired help. "We have a past, we grew up together. Trained together. He was more than a friend" you said. Varric didn't chuckle this time, his eyes scanning for any signs of discomfort that you might have. "He's meant to be dead. I mourned him with his family- he was ambushed in the middle of the ocean before I could say anything"

Varric smiled sadly as you, his perception was something you were grateful for as you could see him reading between the lines of your admission. "I don't know if I'm ready to see a ghost" you whispered. Varric's heart broke looking at you, someone he's always admired for finding the humor in situations, keeping moral high and helping anyone they can. He's seen you walk through the streets handing out money to the unfortunates or having to wait for you to catch up as you pet one of the many cats that roamed the streets. It was like he was seeing a different person. "You've stopped a ritual, fought and entire group of antamnn 20 vs 1. You'll be able to handle it."

"It's not about handling it, it's just...weird. I worry he thought that I wasn't coming for him. Or worse...he's actually dead, and I'd have been given this slither of hope for it to be ripped away from me" you admitted. He didn't reply to that, he had no idea. Varric had seen so much, lost so much over the years. You knew he was understanding, listening to you but we didn't have a choice. If was alive you all needed him no matter what. Your footsteps echoed as you began to leave the room only pausing after Varric spoke your name. "You've got this kid...no matter what". You didn't reply, only giving the man a small nod before the door shut behind you.

The Venatori that greeted you was a welcome distraction as you and Neve passed through the compound with ease. "It's going to take weeks to get the sand out of my boots" you whispered under your breath as you began to break the crystals that held the barriers in your way only to then be met with yet another small group of Venatori. You were part way through peace talking, not that it was going to make a difference your hands itched to sink your blade for revenge - for either taking him away from you or killing him. The sound of feathers was loud as they whipped around the Venatori in a purple flash, you recognized the fight pattern your body freezing on the spot as you observed him work. He was there, right in front of you. You watched as the purple wings disappeared before he turned, holding your breath until your eyes fell upon his face.

Your legs wobbled as you finally made eye contact desperately trying to hold in the sob that threatened to be released. He has changed, you could tell. His body is leaner than you remembered, his eyes and skin having a slight purple glow...and that all without mentioning the new wings that he created moments ago. "L-Lucanis?" You whispered stepping forward. His eyes flashed with recognition his own body stiffening as they scanned your face taking in every detail. The new scars that littered your skin, the way your hair fell now. "Is it really you?" He whispered, his hands tightening around his daggers as he watched you creep closer. He had dreamed of being with you again, the feeling of your comfort as your hand held him. Your smell of that expensive perfume you insisted on buying at the markets. You nodded smiling brightly as you were finally in reach with him. His arms enveloped you first, his head buried in your neck as he took in your scent. "You're really alive?" You whispered. You felt him nod against you, his arms tightening not wanting to let you go. "Let's get you out of here"

The fire crackled as you sat in the common room, the flames dancing heating up the space. The stiffness in your body was the need to go through the door on your right and talk to him, say all those words you wanted to tell him when he returned from that trip a year ago. But he had changed, he wasn't your Lucanis anymore. Demon or no demon you weren't going to ignore him, you just needed to follow his lead. You didn't react when the door opened, or when his footsteps approached the other chair. The two of you stared into the flames finding comfort in the silence. "I never thought I would see you again...nor did I expect you to be the one to rescue me finally" he spoke. You almost felt hurt at the accusation from him about how much you cared. "If I knew where you were a year ago, that bitch would have been long dead" you spoke, venom lacing your tone. He looked at you again, spotting the bags under your eyes, the weight of expectations that now laid heavy against you with the looming threats on Thedas. "I'm happy to have back, there's no one else I'd want by my side during this than you Lucanis"

"Even with spite?"

You smiled at him sadly. The guilt and fear over his possession is laced throughout his features. "Even with spite" you whispered. His hand touched yours as he laced his fingers through yours, he felt himself needing the connection. "Does spite like coffee?" You questioned enjoying his touch. Lucanis chuckled, squeezing your hand. "Yes we can still go on our coffee dates"

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte x reader #lucanis dellamorte x rook #lucanis x reader #da4 #da4 lucanis

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kyoteugly · 1 day ago

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911 episode 8x06

Starting with the Buck and Tommy scene. It’s light, maybe Buck is baking with Jee, Tommy says something, nothing major, but it gets to Buck head - spiraling.

Buck talks with Maddie, Josh joins in. Buck thinks it’s serious (the thing Tommy said), they lovingly comment it’s no big deal, maybe tease him.

Buck talks with Bobby, and he also thinks it’s trivial but maybe points Buck to some direction, making him ask the question why is he overreacting.

Meanwhile Eddie has his own things going on. He’s detached from 118, isolated, going through hard times alone. Thinks a lot about Chris, maybe even allows himself to grieve his relationship with his son. Mask “I’m fine” is slipping, emotions are coming to surface, and he embraces them. He’s alone, he can, no one is watching.

Finally Buck decided to ask Eddie for advice. He hadn’t done that before because Eddie would call him an idiot and tell him to work things out with Tommy. And Buck would listen… but maybe him spiraling means he doesn’t want to… maybe this is the answer to Bobby’s question…

Knock at the door. Eddie answers, like he always does. Buck needs help. Of course he’s there for him. But Buck takes one look at Eddie and he realizes two things. His problem with Tommy really is trivial. He wasn’t there when Eddie needed him. He missed that something was wrong with Eddie. He missed it during his beef with Gerrard, he missed it because of this stupid curse, he hadn’t noticed how lonely Eddie was, still is.

But Buck is here now, his problem is not worth mentioning at all. They sit on a couch. Eddie opens up. Buck is silent. He doesn’t have to say anything, he just needs to be there, reassure Eddie he’s not alone. Eddie feels better, takes a deep breath, the decision was made and he needs to do something to emphasize the first step he’s taking towards fixing things with Chris, healing, forgiving himself. To lighten the mood he decides to shave off his mustache.

The soft music is playing, voiceover closing the episode, not directly about Buck and Eddie but somehow it fits.

Camera in smooth motion goes through the bathroom mirror. Light is warm. Eddie is shaving the mustache. The camera motion fades out on some furniture only to break through in Eddie’s living room, where Buck is sitting in the dark, his face illuminated by the cold light of his phone. A lot of texts from Tommy asking what’s wrong, the last one says “Can we meet?”. Camera is again in motion, going back to Eddie, wiping his face with a towel, a little smile playing on his lips. You’re gonna be ok (kid).

Buck decides he’ll meet with Tommy, he replies to his last text. He never said to Eddie what bothered him, but it’s not important, he figured it out on his own.

Music ends, voiceover ends. Silence.

The dark living room gets illuminated as Eddie walks back from the bathroom. Buck gets up from the couch, ready to say his goodbye. He looks at Eddie and he SEES him.

No take on Eddie, just Buck’s expression changing from slightly exhausted to soft, loving smile.

Episode ends.

No break up scene, no confessing feelings, no queer Eddie in this episode. Just this.

Retelling fight club with confession. Retelling divorce era with Eddie being alone and Buck spiraling. Retelling the kitchen scene with Buck missing what’s going on with Eddie but showing up when Eddie needs him.

Subtly showing the new audience there is more to Buck and Eddie. Giving old fans a clear nod that yes, we’re doing it.

I don’t have it in me to write a whole meta about this, but I wanted to share how I would like the new episode to go.

Want more details? Feel free to contact me ^^

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #911 abc #my stuff #season 8 speculation #911 8x06 speculation #911 speculation #buddie canon #911 season 8

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discordiansamba · 2 days ago

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actually still thinking about this, but: instead of katara freaking out she plays it cool. after all, she still remembers what happened the last time she freaked out about finding zuko in a place he shouldn't be (also a tea shop, come to think about it). so instead she forces herself to smile and asks for whatever's recommended. she can't take her eyes off him long enough to look at the menu. this is easier.

she watches zuko like a hawk, but tries to not be like. super obvious about it. he doesn't seem to recognize her at all. and katara's not stupid. she knows that azula had control of the dai li. she knows her relationship with zuko wasn't the best. but would she really use the dai li to brainwash her own brother?

...yeah who was she kidding. she probably would.

she asks zuko some questions about himself when he comes to bring her her tea. she learns a lot from him. he introduces himself as lee and tells her he was born and raised in ba sing se. he's... incredibly friendly in a way that is making katara's brain short out. he smiles. with his scar half hidden by his hair, she can almost half-convince herself this isn't zuko at all, but just some random kid who kind of looks like him. but it has to be zuko.

zuko asks her about herself- is she new to the city? you're from the water tribe, right? katara mulls it over, and then tells him she's here with the avatar. zuko doesn't even bat an eye. katara has to fight the urge to lunge over the table and drag his head down on the spot to try and heal it. she has to introduce herself to him. he blinks in recognition, and for just a moment...

...then he sinks all her hopes. he's heard of her. she helped the avatar defeat the fire lord. everyone's been talking about them. he's honored that such an impressive person would give his humble place of employment a visit. katara can only think that this is so fucking weird. whatever the dai li did to him, it's way worse than what they did to jet. at least jet knew his own name.

...yeah, there's no chance she heals this in one shot.

actually... should she heal him at all? zuko betrayed them. maybe she should just keep quiet and let him live out the rest of his life as lee. at least this way he can't possibly cause them anymore trouble. except... she thinks of iroh. he's been searching for zuko desperately. she thinks about all he's told her about zuko- why he was the way he was. she could never find any sympathy for him even after that, but...

...this? this is just awful.

katara makes up her mind. there's more customers arriving, so zuko gives her a polite bow and leaves her to her tea. when he comes back to collect her money, she promises him he'll come back again- and that maybe she'll bring some friends this time. zuko smiles at her and tells her he would be honored.

she leaves. she needs to tell everyone about this- except for maybe iroh. she'll wait just a little bit on telling iroh. she'll try bringing aang to the tea shop tomorrow- and if that doesn't get a reaction out of zuko, well... she'll just know she has her work cut out for her.

oh oh! AU in which Zuko is brainwashed by the Dai Li into believing he's REALLY Lee from the tea shop.

oh fuck, sorry about your life zuko. and also yours, iroh.

azula doublecrosses zuko after the fall of ba sing se and hands him over to the dai li. she never had any intention of sharing the glory with him. she smiles and tells him that since he enjoyed working at the tea shop with uncle so much, he can just become lee forever.

lee wakes up in ba sing se, alone. his uncle is gone. the city has been taken over by the fire nation. his memories are a blur- he and his uncle went to the earth palace to serve the earth king tea, and then... he can't really remember what happened next.

the fire nation princess wants him to serve her tea. he can feel her eyes on him the entire time he does. she's smiling, but he doesn't like that smile. her other two friends just watch him with looks that verge on pity- but only when the princess isn't looking. part of him feels grateful when they leave for the fire nation. the other part of him just feels... angry?

lee doesn't know where to go, so he goes back to the jasmine dragon. he finds out jin has been looking for him. she asks where his uncle is. he just shakes his head and says he doesn't know. he went missing. she invites him to come stay with her family... but he turns her down. he finds a job at another tea shop. it's all he knows. he's not good for anything else.

princess azula left behind standing orders with the dai li to make sure to keep up her brother's brainwashing. he's stubborn, so if you're not careful, he'll start to realize things he shouldn't. it's why she does not bring him home to the fire nation, as amusing as the idea of having him paraded before the court as a servant is.

the dai li visit lee once every week. it is the same agent every time. they have brainwashed many in their time, but the prince of the fire nation is their masterpiece. he crafts an entire new life for him. lee is drowning in a sea of lies and he doesn't even know it.

iroh realizes something is *very* wrong when he hears nothing of zuko upon arriving in the fire nation. when he breaks out of prison, he discovers that zuko never returned with his sister- and feels fear in his heart. but with the failure of the invasion, someone must teach the avatar firebending... and it cannot be jeong-jeong. iroh asks the white lotus to search for zuko in his place.

it's katara who finds him by accident, after the war is over. she decides to take a break at a tea shop. she looks up at her server- and sees a ghost. a ghost that doesn't recognize her, not even a little- and with a sinking horror, katara realizes exactly what must have happened.

she can't even be angry at him for his betrayal. not when all it earned him was this.

(lee was born and raised in ba sing se. he has no uncle, but he has his father. he is an agent of the dai li, and lee could not be more proud of him. he got his scar in the accident that killed his mother. a tragic fire. an accident. he's been afraid of it ever since.

lee lacks talent. he knows this, but he has found a simple happiness in the one thing he is good at- serving tea. he chats with the customers. he remembers the orders of all his regulars. his life is simple, but he is happy. he has never once thought of leaving ba sing se. why would he? his entire life is here. he has his father. his job. his girlfriend jin. he doesn't need anything else.

...he would like this strange water tribe girl to stop talking to him now. he hides in the kitchen. the owner kicks her out for hassling his best tea server.

lee has been kidnapped. these people keep calling him zuko. he has no idea who that is. they take him to the fire nation. he needs to get far, far away from ba sing se, they say. somewhere more familiar. lee doesn't know what they're talking about. he wants to go home.)

#zuko is acting like he's genuinely happy and it's freaking katara out on multiple fronts #that's not even a joo dee smile. it's just a regular smile.#but it's on ZUKO'S face so it's deeply disturbing #but also there's the fact that zuko's mind has been manipulated to the point where he *genuinely* believes he's happy #like being a humble tea server is his calling in life #lee from the tea shop

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greenelight · 3 months ago

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in terms of intimacy & relationships , mason is a hopeless romantic despite always trying to argue against anyone who tries to call him that. he wants something soft & romantic with a man , but his little experience with dating has always been met with disappointment. living in new york makes it much harder to find someone with the same ideas , & most people he's met in the city want flings or just a quick fuck. his desire to find someone worsens after his relationship with brad crumbles & he becomes way more hesitant about trying again in terms of dating , as that bit of trust is gone & he doesn't want to be left vulnerable again like he was with brad. it's much easier for him to fall for someone he befriends first , as he can ease into that trust & fall for someone naturally & at his own pace.

#˗ˏˋ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶤᶤ· ﹙ headcanon ﹚ ﹕ the show must go on.#its so frustrating for mason honestly #esp after brad #like a part of him struggles with being attracted to #men but then fearing them after brad hurt him so badly #its why he doesn't date for three years after all that #he really needed the time to heal and work on himself #but yeah majority of mason's ships on here started as friends #its a lot easier for him to fall that way without any fear #i love writing mason in love bc he really is so beautiful about it #while also unlearning bad habits and opening up to another #trusting them and trusting them with his heart #i just... uGH #im rambling but i love him gnkjnjkfhdfh

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seventh-district · 16 days ago

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Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

#redacted sam #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted fandom #[Sam's name doubles as a link to the specific lines i quoted btw. just for full credit/transparency & for anyone who wants to (re)listen]#Sam's deep-seated need to heal vs my inability to accept help would be a battle for the ages. unstoppable force vs immovable object #wait Sam already mentioned the force vs object thing to David during the inversion didn't he lmao 'they call /me/ Immovable Object'#he does suit Immovable a little more than Unstoppable i guess. i mean he can def be both imo but ykwim. anyways i digress #listen. i'm not a Marriage kinda guy. but good god the way some of Sam's lines make me wanna take a fucking knee and propose #i'm love him ur honor. he is comfort incarnate #can't believe i waited so long to listen to the Valentines Vampire Attack audio. it's got so much of that sweet sweet hurt/comfort #very reminiscent of their 2nd audio given all the healing he does for them & the consent checks before moving clothing and whatnot #which makes it a top favorite for me bc that's probably my most replayed Sam audio. and the one that initially hooked me #i didn't put off listening to it bc i thought i Wouldn't like it btw i just procrastinate everything for no real reason #listening to it now tho actually worked out well bc i could uh. definitely use it. so maybe i was subconsciously saving it for hard times #this post isn't a joke btw it really does hurt to hear him put himself in pain for the sake of healing Darlin' :(((#anD PAINKILLERS DON'T EVEN WORK ON HIM!!! ough man i would struggle so hard to accept his healing if i were in Darlin's shoes #like yeah there's other reasons i'd struggle to accept it too but him being in pain as a result would be one of 'em. the Guilt bro i can't #rp audio stuff #Seven.txt #(Seven blorbo-posting at 2am when they should either be doing something productive or sleeping?? more likely than you might think)

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i-wiggle-i-squirm-bc-i-am-a-worm · 2 years ago

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Unnecessary discussion about Chat Noir and the Drums

There’s something I love so much about Chat playing the drums in Horrificator. This is something that’s been on my mind since I was 13, so hold on here.

First, obviously, Adrien also plays the piano - which obviously still has a lot of meaning!! - I’m not here to diss on the piano, there’s a lot of freedom of expression in every instrument type and music expression in general, but there’s a reason why some people are more inclined to different instruments, and I think there’s a lot more to it than just sound, but feeling as well. The role you play. How it feels to play it alone vs. playing it with others, if it’s typically something that you can play alone vs. in a group.

So first, the piano, and how I think it relates to Adrien’s character, plus how it relates to those points.

The piano, let’s be real, is something that a lot of us were forced to take lessons for at some point. It’s something that has ties to high society (there’s a HUGE discussion and so much more to say about that, but let’s not go there) and honestly?? I think it works pretty well with symbolizing the obsession with perfection that Gabriel shoves onto him. I’ve known many piano players, and while some genuinely loved playing it, it was always easier to somehow stumble onto someone with a deep hatred for it after being forced into lessons. Whenever I asked them why they hated it, I got almost the same answer every time: “I need to be perfect.” (Along with people saying that they were forced to lol)

Then there’s the role you play. You can play with people in a band, an orchestra, as an accompanist, a duet, at a bar with a bunch of people singing - whatever - music has many forms, and many different connections. But the piano is something you can play solo, no need for anyone else. It isn’t what you can do with other people that I’m focusing on for this, it’s the fact that you don’t need anyone. You can play alone, and it’ll still be fine. You can be alone, and you’re still fine - perfect even - which is something that Gabriel shoves down his throat, resistant to him playing with his friends by touching on this ideology.

Which is a glimpse into how he sees Adrien, and how Adrien experiences life. He can be alone, in fact he’s more perfect when he’s alone. And when other people are added, the attention to his perfection is taken away bit by bit, until he’s not good enough. He has to play solo in concert halls, on stage for everyone to watch, not in the back of a bar, playing with his friends.

Alright, so now we move to Chat Noir and the drums. The main play of this fake essay.

It would be so easy to just ignore everything and just go “haha, he’s the energetic one, so ofc Ladybug gave him the drums! And they’re an easy instrument to play, etc.” but that’s far from the truth.

Ok, so I’m not a drum player or percussionist in any way, but I am a bass player, and genuinely love the drums so much because they’re incredibly important, and here’s my cheesy analogy: the drums are the heart of the band, keeping everyone on beat, it’s what you feel at the centre of it all. The band is nothing without the drums, without the percussion (The bass is what connects the band to the beat of the drums, kinda like the blood vessels, but sadly this ain’t about bass). Like do you know how easy it is for a band to fall apart if they don’t have a drummer??? You need a drummer. You literally can’t survive without a drummer, because even if you manage to work together, use the bass as a backing, whatever you try, there’s still not much of a heart left.

But besides that, do you know how hard it is to play the drums??? You can’t just throw someone crazy, or energetic there just because “crazy drummers lol” you need someone who listens. Who can set the beat. Someone you can rely on, because they are the person in control, even if they aren’t as flashy as the guitar player. Reliable is the word that comes to mind. The drums can make or break a band.

And wanna know who that reminds me of?

Yeah. I highly doubt that the writers put this much thought into a random five second scene in an episode of season one, but it fits with Chat Noir SO well.

Unlike the piano, the drums are almost solely played in a group setting - you need other people, and other people need you - he needs other people in his life, his friends are needed, but they also need him. Ladybug needs him, along with all the other heroes in Paris, whether he sees it or not. He seems to get in a state of thinking he’s not needed, but i do really think he’s the emotional glue that keeps the team connected, the heart that keeps them beating. If he’s isolated, he can’t quite reach his full potential that he can when he’s allowed to be around others, just like they can’t reach their own without him.

But on top of that, I think the stereotypes of the drums actually works in his favour for the next part.

Breaking free from his dad, and being his own person, letting that fame go and embracing what he wants... well, to some that would look stupid.

Relating it to music, the piano is flashy, you can play it solo, it sounds impressive, looks impressive, and people won’t think you’re just hitting pots and pans in the garage when you say you play it. But the drums are underestimated, a lot of people think you don’t need much practice, that they’re just the guys who sit at the back of the stage, not doing much, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Just like Adrien finally being who he wants wouldn’t be stupid, it could never be stupid, but there’s a stigma. But letting go of his flashy, solo life, and being the heart of his friend group is something that I think makes him truly happy as Chat Noir, and hopefully he gets to be like that as Adrien too.

Like Plagg said, Chat Noir and Adrien are both the real him, and I think the drums capture that perfectly. The heart and freedom, the meticulousness (rather than perfection) and steadiness, those are good qualities of a drummer.

I dunno, I just think it fits.

(sdfghjklkjhgf again I should state that acoustic versions of songs exist, and you can play songs without a drum and it sounds fantastic, but I’m not going into that today. Just talking generalization, and playing in a group setting).

#I hope I didn't sound like an absolute idiot #lol I don't wanna sound like Luka #this is just a subject I'm really passionate about and mixed with Miraculous it's just sdfghjjhgfd #miraculeakless #him playing drums is something that's probably never going to come up again ever #but in my mind Adrien healing means him taking up playing the drums and I've never dropped this #no really I wrote a fic when I was 14 about Adrien somehow disguising himself and being friends with people and he also took up the drums #I should find it and rewrite it lol #but here I am at 20 and my mind is still on this #and now I work with music as a job so I actually have the proper words to write it all down #miraculous ladybug #horrificator #can't believe I'm digging up a S1 episode but I needed to get these thoughts out #chat noir #adrien agreste #character study #uhhh sorry if this is unreadable #but I did not re-read this bc I spent too much time writing it and I don't feel like going through this again

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ancha-aus · 2 days ago

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omg but that sounds so funny?

It makes it sound like it is a job. Ah yes i need to get this to Ancha before she clocks out from Lore-duties. *scribbling lore as i speak don't mind me*

It is just such an Killer idea and i lvoe that for him. He is going to play two truths and a lie with the king his new boss! :D okay but also. When Ccino walks in to help? Killer is probably a bit annoyed. because that just isn't fair. ccino is probably a horrible liar. this is about good liars :/

and then ccino is able to just stare him down and lie with such a straight deadpan face that killer is honestly excited to figure it out himself.

(also ccino is really fucking good at spotting lies?! holy shit where did the king find this guy and hrie him?! why just for like house sitting and not as advisor what the hell?)

it becomes fun! and nightmare 100% joins in. He needs to be able to lie with a straight face. yes nightmare. even if you dislike the idea of lying. it is needed sometimes. now. lets practise.

A little helmet for the man who will fight in the war and win the war for nightmare's affection!

cross leaning to the side: aren't they already dating? killer: just let him have his moment.

nightmar enad dust meanwhile are just chilling and riding. nightmare shares a bit of his anxieties of error turning 16. what if he decides to move out after all? why would error still want to stay if he gets money and realises he can go anywhere? what is keeping him from going to life with geno and reaper after all?

dust helps him calm down.

Ccino would ahve so much anxieties about having children. He already raise two! and error a tiny bit. he was at least an actual babysitter for him. but this is terrifying. He wants a child with killer. he really does.

but he is just terrified. of everything.

Ccino probably tries to talk with killer about it normally but eventually he just breaks down and stays in killer's arms and hold. there is just so much trauma he didn't have time to process and then he got busy and things got better so why think about trauma and the past? it is gone now. it is fine.

killer jsut holding his mate. letting him let it all out. so much trauma build up that NEEDS to be released. and killer is here for him. reassuring him that they are a team and they have a group that will help them. no one is going to take them from their little baby (the fact ccino is scared his baby will be left alone. that what happened to him will happened to the baby. he isn't even afraid of the fact he would die. just that his baby would ahve no one.)

but i agree. ccino is composed because he doens't let himself be anything BUT composed. he ahs to be composed and controlled. first because otherwise it wasn't perfect and nim would kill him. then because he had to do his work. then failing would mean that nightmare or dream would not be cared for. and it just... it was never the time for him to not be composed and ccino just got used to it after a while. but his wounds never healed. and the fear is so real and still so there. the stress of it all just build on top of it.

Killer already really sees how much damage it did to ccino. Ccino never shows weakness even if the knights know his story by now. but ccino never showed anything but composure and acceptance of his past. They thought that ccino had processed it all.

turns out? nope... ccino.... ccino really is just a very good liar. even to himself.

yes!! Love that :D the boys face is so important and the masks mean so much! it is beauitful story telling <3

Dust had a beautiful and loving family. and that is why he left. he knew he couldn't be trusted anymore. not with their safety. and he refused to harm his family even further.

Yes! Phantom never got over his brother leaving (he isn't stupid. he knows dust pulled away after he injured him. and then he was gone. phantom just wnat shis brother back) each rain drop would give him hope. phantom would rush outside and search through the rainfall. looking for his older brother. because the rain is back! Dust brings the rain! please... please be back.

Phantom had to deal with disappointment so often.

so to feel a very light drizzle? on a very sunny day? his hope instantly returns and when he turns around... there he is.

nightmare can see how happy dust is. nightmare feeling like such an intruder and just. he can't help it. he is just akid again. a kid who lost so much in his life. he just can't lose one of his brothers. so he introduces himself with a claim. that is one of HIS brothers...

and they welcome him. they are so nice to him and are so hapyp for dust that he managed to trust himself again. and he let himself love someone!

STOP! STOP! 'how did you two meet?' 'He broke me out of prison' 'Dust!! I DID NOT!'

that is the FUNNIEST take Dust could have taken. but it is the perfect ice breakers. and dust tells the whole story. what he did. where he went. what he accomplished. The family listens to the whole story. and they all look shocked but accept it all. AND THE INVITATION to the castle!! I love that!

(stop!! error would be the most JEALOUS little menace. euh. who are you? You are dust's little brother? funny. because he is already nightmare's and my brother :/ you sure you don't ahve the wrong skeleton on your mind?

the kngihts are also VERY excited to meet them. Dsut realises this was a mistake.)

Dust hates his soul because it is unnatural and weird and clearly broken. and i love that he disliked killer's soul first as well because of his own situation. but dust does move to defend him. No matter what. and that says enough.

and geno finds it beatiful! IT is gorgeous! geno just wants to stare at it in awe and please let him hold it? geno promise to be careful and gentle and-

reaper seperates the two because both look in a mood and the moods do NOT allign. thought reaper agress with geno. it is very beautiful. but dust isn't ready to hear that.

I love everything about the fresh meeting. just all of it.

espeically because error finally gets the closure he needed with fresh. and it turned out fresh loved him so much. and that the parasite that he accidentally aquired thought of error as food.

(the fact dust managed to get the thing the heel and behave is so funny. someone is going to make the joke that the parasite must be at least PARTYL horse then)

and i love that error learns way to make him able to touch tohers (he is going to hold nightmare's hand and ksis him one of these days it is HIS GOAL)

i love all these sillies <3

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.

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.”

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