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reidsbabyhoney · 9 hours ago

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second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been, what could've been.

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

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washoping · 12 hours ago

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Welcome distraction

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: Emily notices you're having a hard time working on your assignment, so she decides it's time for you to take a break.

tags: smut, teasing, praise kink, sex

f/f │ 2.9k words │ ao3

a/n: english isn't my first language so all typos and mistakes are mine!

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The room was heavy with the weight of yet another long exhausting day of studying. The clock was ticking past eight already as you tried to use the last drops of your energy on the assignment you were working on. The laptop screen casted a cold blue glow over your desk that was embarrassingly messy compared to what it was usually like. The neatness you were accustomed to was replaced by notebooks, notes, pens and highlighters scattered all over, piled on top of each other, a half-drunk coffee mug being the cherry on top.

Your eyes felt tired. They were burning from hours of reading. The words on the screen had started blurring together what felt like ages ago but you had tried your best to just power through, telling yourself you’d be done soon. But every tick of the clock on the wall next to you felt like a reminder of just how much you still had left to do.

A quiet knock at the door broke through your concentration, making you look up from the screen your eyes had been glued to for hours. It took you few seconds to adjust. You saw Emily standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, taking you in with the warmest of eyes. The softness in her gaze when seeing you made you feel like she had been waiting for this moment, to force you away from your screen.

”Hey”, she said, her voice a gentle murmur. ”You’ve been at this for hours already. How much longer are you planning to go for?”

You exhaled, rubbing your eyes, feeling glad about your decision not to wear makeup today.

”I’m just trying to finish this section, but I still have a lot left. It feels never-ending.”

You thought about the amount of work there was left to do. It felt like you had been writing the same damn sentence again and again for the past few hours, making no progress, because you were exhausted. That was something you couldn’t tell Emily. Nor the fact that you could feel a headache forming in the distance as well.

Emily stepped closer, her gaze sweeping over the mess of notes, school supplies and the stained coffee mug on your desk. You half-expected for her to make a comment, to be disappointed in you and the fact that you hadn’t taken care of it. But instead, she didn’t really show any emotion. She just turned her gaze to you instead of the mess.

”Is the assignment due tonight?”

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heating up a bit after hearing the commanding tone of Emily’s voice. You could guess what was coming. It was crazy what her voice alone could do to you. You felt nervous all of a sudden.

”Not technically”, you answered with your own voice trembling a bit. You escaped Emily’s eyes by turning your gaze back to the open document on your laptop’s screen.

You heard Emily chuckle softly and could imagine the slight smile forming on her face without even looking at her. She walked to you, her hands settling on your shoulders. You shivered and felt your breath hitching as her thumbs started working into the tense muscles on your shoulders and upper back. It was so easy to melt under her touch almost immediately. Your eyes closed, involuntarily. Emily’s hands made it easy for you to forget about the assignment. Like magic.

Slowly she moved even closer to you and it sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure.

”Then it can wait, honey”, she whispered, her breath warm against your ear. You couldn’t help but lean against her head a bit to recover from the shivers her whisper caused. ”You’ve been at this all day. The assignment will still be here tomorrow, I promise. But I need my baby right now.”

”Em”, you protested quickly, not knowing if you really even wanted to protest. Your voice sounded unconvincing, even to yourself. You let yourself lean back a bit further when Emily’s hands continued massaging your shoulders soothingly. ”I really should finish…”

Before you could go on for any longer, Emily stopped you.

”Babe, it’s 8 pm”, she said more firmly this time around and the authoritative tone in her voice sent the butterflies in your stomach flying. She was always hot, but this demanding bossy side of her made your brain mush. ”You’re done for the day if I say so.”

You opened your eyes to look at her, torn between your sense of responsibility and the pull of her insistent gaze. You were turned on. She was standing so close you could smell her perfume, feel her warmth. So alluring. For a moment there you forget about the screen in front of you.

”But I’ll feel better if I get a little bit more done today”, you still tried to insist, even though your tough demeanor act slipped away further and further with each press of Emily’s fingers on your skin.

And then she stopped completely.

She didn’t start arguing, didn’t say anything - instead she moved to sit beside you in the other chair in front of your desk, her chin propped in her hand as she started watching you. The determination in her eyes didn’t disappear, it just was quiet now. It still told you that she was willing to wait as long as it took. Emily wasn’t one to give up if she wanted something.

And she wanted you.

You looked at your screen, feeling her gaze glued to you while you did. It was nearly impossible to focus with her sitting so close, her presence so strong, her perfume filling your nostrils. You were screwed, but you couldn’t admit your loss in this game so easily.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Emily’s hand caressing along her own cheek. Her fingertips tracing the curve of her neck, then dipping lower, coming to rest on top of her breast. The subtle movement was enough to pull you out of your so-called focus, your eyes flicking to her involuntarily as she gently massaged her own breast through her shirt. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

”Emily”, you murmured now wide-eyed, your voice half-pleading, half-warning.

”Yes?” she asked, sounding completely sweet and innocent while her fingers travelled from cupping her breast to her legs, stroking the top of her thighs back and forth. You couldn’t help but steal a look again, right when she moved her fingers closer to her… ”Something wrong?”

”I… I can’t focus when you’re doing that”, you admitted with an unsteady voice, nodding towards her, looking at her fingers now resting on the waistband of her trousers. You needed her to move them inside them, and her panties. To hear her gasp, moan, anything. You needed her so bad your pussy clenched.

Emily raised an eyebrow, her signature move when teasing you. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

”That’s too bad”, she said, not taking her eyes off you for a single second. Her other hand came to the collar of her shirt, stretching it just enough to reveal a hint of skin at her collarbone. Her eyes didn’t leave yours. She was fully aware of the effect she had on you and she wasn’t about to stop. You wiggled in your chair, feeling so turned on that it was starting to get a bit difficult to sit still.

You looked back at your screen again, determined to push through the last section no matter what. But you should’ve known it was impossible already. Emily shifted closer, her hand now brushing over your arm, gliding with that familiar gentle pressure that left your skin tingling for more.

”Em, please…” you whispered with your breath catching as she moved even closer, her lips nearly brushing against your cheek now. You expected a kiss. A peck on your cheek. Maybe her hands on your shoulders again? Anything, any contact.

But no. Instead of all that Emily slipped down from her chair, sinking gracefully down on her knees right in front of you. You felt her hands on your knees and your heart rate picked up when she gazed up at you with her big brown eyes from down there. You would’ve done anything for her.

”Emily…” you mumbled her name again. Your fingers came to grip the edge of your chair as her hands trailed upwards, a clear sign to her that you had finally given up. She took her sweet time, not hurrying one bit.

”Yes, baby?” she asked innocently with a smirk on her face, inching even closer to you, her hands gripping your thighs as her eyes remained locked on yours. She stroked your thighs, her hands slowly but surely making their way underneath your night shorts you wore around the house. Easy access. You bit your lip as you felt Emily’s fingers kneading the soft skin, making their way closer and closer to your heated center. You knew you were wet. Without a question. Emily felt the warmth radiating from you and flashed you a smile laced with satisfaction at seeing you giving in.

You opened your mouth to try another weak protest but right when you were about to say something Emily’s fingers touched you through your panties and instead of words, a moan escaped your mouth. With your eyes closed you slapped the lid off your laptop down, no longer giving a damn about the assignment.

”There you go, finally… that’s my girl”, you heard Emily saying, hearing the huge smile on her face from her voice. She won and she was so happy about it.

You moaned, trying to move your hips on the chair so that Emily’s fingers would touch you again. You needed the contact so bad, but clearly she wasn’t done with the teasing yet. She grabbed the waistband of your shorts, ushering you to lift your hips a little so she could pull them off, leaving you in your panties.

”Oh baby, you’re absolutely soaked”, she chuckled when she saw how your arousal had stained your white panties with a wet spot. She touched it with her thumb, pressing the fabric against you to saturate it even more with your wetness. You squirmed. Every tiniest thing she did turned you on more and more.

When you saw her pressing her lips against the wet fabric you had to bite your lip in order to stay quiet. She looked up at you while pressing a gentle kiss on your pussy through it.

”I can stop if you really want me to”, she still dared to tease you.

You felt helpless. You swallowed hard, barely able to hold back another gasp as Emily planted another kiss on your pussy through your panties.

”I… I don’t… please… don’t stop.”

Emily smiled, pressing one final little kiss on the damp fabric before pulling it aside with her fingers and coming in direct contact with your pussy to give it a single long lick. You sighed out loud. Finally.

”Now, just relax baby and let me take care of you”, she whispered as she she settled between your legs properly, her free hand coming up to your breast to grab it. Her fingers didn’t waste any time pinching your nipple in between them, giving it a little twist. You gasped and decided to quickly undress, throwing your shirt off to the floor next to your shorts.

Air escaped your lungs as you looked down at Emily between your legs. The way she was so lovingly looking at your exposed body made it impossible for you to stay still. Her adoring eyes roamed all over your body, appreciating every single part of it. Your hips bucked, needing contact.

Emily looked up and saw the way you begged for her with your eyes. She knew that look. Her hands wandered from your boobs to your lower stomach, gently massaging it, then moving to the insides of your thighs. Before you could say the now familiar word ’please' again, her mouth finally latched on your pussy. She moaned as she tasted you and god, it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

Your eyes closed and your hands flew to Emily’s hair, using your tight grip on it to keep her head exactly where you needed it to be. You caressed her scalp, the back of her neck, her hair. She gave you no mercy and worked around your clit like a game of hot and cold. Her lips came close to it and when your hips thrusted forward trying to guide her mouth to touch it, she pulled away. She wouldn’t stop teasing you.

You whimpered in frustration.

”Patience, my love”, she spoke. She knew you didn’t have it and it was especially torturous right now when she had been teasing you for a good while already.

She pressed her mouth against you again, careful not to touch your clit. Her chin rubbed against your wetness when you started to grind your pussy against her face. Her steadying hand came to your stomach, pressing down on it to make sure you would stay still and not slip further down the chair’s edge you were sitting on. When she made sure you wouldn’t fall she moved her hand to grab yours, intertwining your fingers quickly. You grabbed her hand back tightly - maybe a bit too tightly, but you couldn’t control yourself. Normally you would’ve had sheets to grab, but Emily’s hand was the victim now. You loved it when she held your hand during sex. It made the connection you felt to her even deeper.

”Oh god, just…” you spoke with a trembling voice.

”What, baby? Speak up. Tell me what you need”, she spoke as slowly as she could, making you feel her warm breath on you.

”I need you to… ah! To stop teasing me and just suck my… my clit already”, you whimpered breathily with your eyes closed, biting your lip afterwards. You were sure you would come like this too in no time, but you needed it. Emily laughed amusingly and the next thing you felt was her flicking your clit with her tongue and then sucking it, releasing it from between her lips followed with a wet sound.

You began panting, no longer in control of how your body behaved at all. You wriggled and moved your hips against Emily’s face. She moaned as she ate you out like her life depended on it and it just fired you up even more. Your free hand grabbed her hair again, pushing her closer to your pussy.

Incoherent moans and whimpers escaped your mouth as Emily picked up her already quick pace. She alternated between rapid flicks and bold strokes, which made your head spin. When you least expected it, she suddenly stuffed her tongue inside you as far as she just physically could, causing pressure against your asshole with her chin at the same time.

Your thighs clamped down as a result. Emily’s face was between them and for a second you were afraid you hurt her, but when you opened your eyes and saw from her eyes that she was clearly happy to be right there with your thighs pressed tightly around her head, your worries disappeared. Emily’s tongue flew back to your clit to play with it.

”I’m about to come”, you announced out of breath, your eyes glued to Emily’s.

”Come for me, baby. Feel good and come for me”, she murmured against you, her face buried in your pussy.

And you did as you were told. Panting Emily’s name out loud again and again, your eyes rolled back and your back arched as a strong orgasm hit you. You rode the wave, thrusting against Emily’s face that was now covered in your wetness.

”You look so, so pretty like this… My beautiful girl, I’ve got you”, she praised you when you were trying to come down from your high, your chest heaving up and down. She stroked the soft skin of your thighs, supporting you through the aftershocks and shivers of your orgasm. It was a powerful one, all thanks to Emily’s teasing.

”Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me”, you chanted repeatedly, your breath still coming in stutters. Emily got up from her knees to reach you, her hands caressing the skin of your arms in a comforting manner. They moved to grab your face between her hands and she crashed her lips against yours in a kiss that took your breath away. You tasted yourself on her lips as she kissed you, long and passionately.

”Wow”, you whispered, your forehead against Emily’s. She laughed, the sound warming your heart while you tried to slow down your breathing and heart rate. You wanted nothing more than to give the same back to Emily, so when you had calmed down from your orgasm, you kissed her again. You let your fingers slide down her body and when they touched the waistband of her trousers, she laughed again.

”Oh hey, hey… don’t you have an assignment to work on?” she asked with a huge smirk on her face, letting out a delicious moan as your fingers found their way inside her underwear. You smiled. Fuck the assignment.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds fic #mine: writing

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niceonejames7 · 2 days ago

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kisses and chicken noodle soup.

remus lupin x reader

words: 914

genre: fluff, sickfic

content: remus comes home to find your passed out on the couch, so he thinks of the best quick aid he can, kisses and chicken noodle soup.

a/n: im writing too many things at once and haven't finished anything that I actually wanted to post. so you get this draft (which kinda sucks) that I wrote a while ago(I think I've posted this before idk) this is all very self indulgent.

...

It had been a long day, too long for your liking. Your feet feel like they don't want to move, at all as you step inside the house. But sadness takes over you as you realise no one's home. You had been wishing that Remus would be home, so you could crash into his arms and fall asleep, but the house is empty.

Tears prick your eyes because your head hurts too much, and there is no food at home but you power through and make yourself some instant noodles to absolve your hunger. This wasn't going to fill your stomach, but you had no energy left to make anything else.

As you eat the noodles and watch the show ongoing on tv, the fatigue takes over you and you feel your eyes drooping. You adjust your position and as soon as your head hits the pillow, you're out.

…

Remus comes home to find the door unlocked. A panic set in his stomach and he rushed inside, only to find you sprawled out on the couch, your arms and one leg dangling. He chuckles and sets his bag on the floor to fix your posture.

The top of your nose was already red, your forehead warm to touch. Remus' throat made a cooing sound he didn't think he was capable of making as he muttered to himself, "Poor baby."

His hand caressed your cheek and your hair as he slowly started to wake you up.

"Dovey, c'mon, wake up."

You could hear a muffled voice and your hands instinctively reached for him, searching his face. Your hands found the nape of his neck, your thumb across his cheeks and you had wanted to smile but a small frown formed on your lips, "Hi, baby."

Remus chuckles and wraps his hands around yours and shakes your arm once more, "Bub, if you don't wake up you're going to get cold soup."

The promise of soup was enough to open your eyes, but you immediately squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light.

"Oh I'm sorry," he muttered apologetically and scrambled to turn the lights off and switch on the lamp nearby, all the while his hands never left yours.

As he tugged on your arms to get you to open your eyes, it only deepened your frown,

"What happened? Does something hurt?" Remus asks, his eyes searching for a sign.

"You're blurry." You say in a timid voice and a grin breaks out on Remus' face, and he laughs before leaning into your lips, saying, "You're cute when you're sick."

You raise your intertwined hands to your face as he gets closer, the frown on your face never leaving, "No, you'll get sick."

At this Remus releases his grip and takes your face in his hands, and kisses your jaw, then proceeds up to your cheeks, a peck on your nose then finally a sweet kiss to your lips.

"I'm supernatural, your germs don't bother me." It was an excuse to kiss you, as if he would leave any chance to do so. And also, one kiss doesn't hurt anybody, Remus decided.

Remus especially didn't regret his actions when a smile, however small, finally bloomed on your face, smoothing out your frown, and he kissed your nose again.

After taking a few seconds to admire you, Remus snapped back to himself and patted your cheek softly to wake you up, "C'mon, I made you chicken noodle soup."

You slowly got up from your horizontal position, which was an awful reminder of how much your body and head hurt. You groaned as your stretched out your limbs, pressing your fingers to your head, trying to relieve your headache.

Remus ran his fingers through your hair, a comforting motion over all the pain in your body. It always made you feel a little bit guilty, when you complained about being sick or being in pain. When Remus goes through so much, and you can't tolerate a headache.

"I'm sorry you have to put up with me," You say timidly, your voice a little hoarse, "One headache is enough to take me down."

This caused Remus to frown, "First of all, you have a fever."

He continues in a stern voice, "No, look at me. You're sick and in pain, I would never think of taking care of you 'putting up with you'. Do you understand?"

A smile again adorned your face, and Remus felt like he had achieved something, a personal victory.

You nod and he returns your smile, which lights up his face and all you want to do is pepper his face with kisses.

He takes the bowl of soup in his hands, and sits down on the couch, facing you after turning on the TV. He knew he was in for either a sitcom re-watch or a sappy romantic movie, not that he was complaining.

After you took the last spoon of soup Remus gave you, and made you take your medicines, you immediately cuddled up to him, giving him no time to adjust and wrapping yourself around him. He smelt nice, and so soft. The jumper he had put on was unbelievably soft.

You could already feel yourself falling asleep as you cozied up in his arms and his lips kissed your forehead.

"I love you." You say, like a whisper fading away in the air, but Remus doesn't fail to catch and whisper it back to you,

"I love you too."

....

another thing! can't believe my poly!marauders fic caught on so much traction! thanks guys, honestly inspired me too much and now I have too much to do

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin #marauders #hp marauders #the marauders #moony #remus lupin fanfiction

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proseandpretrichor · 1 day ago

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Entwined | Jinx x Reader

Word Count: 598

Warnings: none -> just a short little thought blurb I had to write so my mind would shut up so I can sleep

You were her opposite in every way. It was hardly fathomable– the crazed criminal somehow wooing such a quiet and kind person such as yourself. You did share her notorious ambitions, just existing as a simple botanist living in one of the few docile suburbs of the undercity. You were the type of person to leave bowls of milk and water for the stray animals roaming the streets, unlike your cloud filled mind of your partner often found too dazed by the whirlwinds of her own mind to focus on anything else. While she built mechanisms of chaos, you created simple melodies of plants into teas, tonics, and remedies. Often selling these little miracles for such a small cost it seemed as though you were giving them away for free, something that was nearly unheard of in a place like the undercity. And these products not only were affordable, they worked! They worked exceptionally well, whereas the working class of the Undercity were doomed to rely on shimmer to continue with the grueling pace of the labor demands to provide, to eat, and sleep in a sheltered abode, you offered a chance of true health, of hope, of rest, of peace. Naturally, those who knew you, cherished you, none more so than Jinx. While at first the coupling seemed confusing and odd it soon clicked and couldn’t seem to make more sense. Jinx protected you and cherished you away from the extortionists of the Undercity, seeking to take your gifts and extort them for profit. In exchange for no cost, you gave Jinx a real understanding of the concept of true love, healthy love, happy love – no strings or obligations attached. You accepted her as she was waiting patiently to understand her past, unraveling the strings that wove together the misunderstood woman who held your heart in her jittery hands. And when the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked and you stood back and made sense of the whole picture that made Jinx well Jinx, you didn’t cower away in annoyance or fear, but embraced all the parts of her, even the messy jagged broken fragments. Even though it seemed as though your intertwined existences seemed to cancel the other out, you didn’t try to change her or soften her. You allowed her the freedom to exist as she was meant to, and figure out her place in the world, even when at most times she seemed to want nothing more to destroy it and certainly did her best to. And she knew… she knew for every explosion made by her hands, you were somewhere else mending the cracks and sewing the holes into faded little scares. So it really didn’t matter, then did it? — is the conclusion most people end on. It didn’t matter that you two were so biologically different, not when somehow it made you fit together all the while better. Besides, it's not like anyone could successfully tear you two apart, not if Jinx had anything to say about it– and she certainly did, as long as she was breathing you would be by her side. It didn’t matter what the pair of you concluded the tasks of the day, you would find your way back to each other. Wrapped into an embrace, one that slowly recharged the energy the day demanded of the two of you, and in that little pocket of the Undercity, a place of the forsaken, there was perfection given to the most damned of all women. So perhaps that makes her all the more deserving of it, you decide.

#jinx arcane #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx fluff #jinx arcane x reader #jinx x you #jinx x y/n #jinx x fem reader #wlw

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 2 days ago

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I had this phrase of the song End of beginning: j"ust trust me, you'll be fine" and I wanted to write something based on it. I hope you like it❤

Just trust me, you'll be fine

The rain had started an hour ago, its soft patter against the windows now a constant hum, mixing with the quiet of the apartment. Normally, I would find it soothing, the rhythmic sound a reminder of cozy evenings spent together, but tonight, it only made the silence feel heavier. It felt as though the whole world was on pause, as if the rain, too, was waiting for something to break.

When James walked in, I felt it instantly—the weight of his presence had shifted. There was no excitement in his steps, no smile, no spark in his eyes. His usual energy was gone. Instead, he moved like someone carrying an invisible burden, his shoulders slumped slightly, his hands buried deep in his pockets as though to keep the rest of himself from escaping.

I watched him from the couch, noting the way he hesitated before meeting my eyes. Normally, he would greet me with that easy, crooked smile, but today, he just seemed lost. I knew that something was wrong, and I knew he wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"Come here," I said softly, my voice quiet but firm. The invitation hung in the air, gentle but clear. I didn’t need him to speak; I just needed him to come closer.

He stood there for a moment, uncertain, his eyes flickering between me and the space around him. But then he nodded, crossing the room in a few slow strides. He lowered himself beside me, his movements stiff, and before I could even blink, he shifted, his head resting gently on my chest as we both lay back on the couch.

The silence stretched between us. His body was tense, his breaths shallow, and I could feel the weight of whatever was bothering him pressing down on both of us. His arms were tucked tightly by his side, like he was trying to hold himself together, trying to keep whatever he was feeling at bay.

I ran my fingers through his hair, letting the soft rhythm of my touch calm the both of us. I knew he needed time. But it didn’t take long for me to feel his body start to tremble, his chest heaving against mine, like he was fighting to keep it all inside.

I waited, breathing with him, letting the minutes pass. And then, without warning, he broke down.

A sharp, strangled gasp escaped him, followed by a soft, shaky sob that he couldn’t hide. His body jerked against mine, and the tears came without any warning, his shoulders shaking as his breath hitched.

I tightened my arms around him, pulling him closer, cradling him like I could shield him from whatever it was that was tearing him apart. His sobs were muffled against my chest, but the rawness of them hit me like a punch. This was more than just a bad day. This was something deeper, something he’d been carrying for far too long.

I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, my hand running gently over his back. "It's okay," I whispered softly, my voice steady, but thick with emotion. "You’re safe here. Just let it out."

He clung to me, his body shuddering with each tear that fell. I didn’t say anything else; I just let him cry. The pressure, the weight of everything he was holding, needed to be released, and all I could do was hold him until he felt it.

Eventually, the sobs started to slow, the tension in his body beginning to ease. He pulled back slightly, lifting his head from my chest to look at me. His eyes were red, his face streaked with tears, but I could see the exhaustion in his gaze.

I cupped his face gently, wiping away the tears still clinging to his skin. His lips trembled, and I could see the fear in his eyes—the fear of being vulnerable, of being weak. But there was something else, too. A deep ache, the kind that comes when you've been carrying something too heavy for too long and you’re just too tired to carry it alone anymore.

“James…” I whispered softly, my thumb brushing over his cheek. “What’s going on, my love?"

He hesitated for a moment, and I could feel the weight of his thoughts, like he wasn’t sure if he could say it out loud. But then his voice broke, low and raw.

“I’m just… so overwhelmed,” he confessed, his words barely a whisper. “With the band, with everything… I feel like I’m not enough. Like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. I can’t keep up with everyone’s expectations. And I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m failing, that I’m not good enough for you, for them…”

He swallowed hard, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts, as if the weight of his thoughts was too much to put into words. "I don't know if I can do this anymore. Everything feels so... empty. Like no matter how much I give, it’s never enough."

I felt a sharp pang in my chest. James had always been the one everyone leaned on. The one who worked tirelessly, the one who held it all together. But I could see now, that in trying to hold up everyone else, he had forgotten to take care of himself.

I pulled him closer, my hands running soothingly through his hair as I pressed my cheek to the top of his head. “You don’t have to be perfect, James," I said softly. "You don’t have to be everything for everyone. You’re enough, just the way you are. You’re my everything.”

He buried his face in my chest again, his breathing still shaky, but his grip on me tight, like he was afraid to let go.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone," I continued, my voice calm but full of conviction. "I’m here. You’re not alone, okay? Not now, not ever. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He sniffled, his tears slowing down, but the fear still lingered in his eyes. “But what if I’m not good enough?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, like he was afraid I might hear him too clearly.

I cupped his face in my hands, guiding him gently so that our eyes met. Then, without thinking, I kissed him—soft, slow, a simple reassurance. My lips lingered on his for a moment, a soft promise that everything would be okay. When I pulled away, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling.

“Just trust me,” I said softly, brushing my hand through his hair, letting the warmth of my touch offer him something to hold onto. “You’ll be fine, my love. You’re more than enough. I see you. All of you, and it’s more than I could ever ask for. I’m so proud of you, James.”

There was a long, quiet pause, the only sound between us the soft beat of our hearts, the rhythm of us simply being together. And then, after a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes softer now, and a small, hesitant smile appeared on his lips.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispered, his voice full of quiet awe. “You’re the best thing I have. How did I get so lucky to have you?”

I smiled softly, my heart swelling at his words. “I’m the lucky one,” I whispered back, my fingers brushing the soft skin of his cheek. “We’re both lucky, because we have each other.”

His smile deepened, and for the first time that night, I saw a flicker of the James I knew—the one who was strong, who was capable, but also vulnerable and real. And in that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield one shot #nausicaamusiclover20

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scarletsky153 · 23 hours ago

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that one crack fic

thinking about writing a jjk crack fic in which nobara, yuuji (and sukuna) and megumi are satoru-suguru-shoko's senpai and the trio (plus sukuna!) are the reason why yaga-sensei shaved his hair (from stress!!)

(a bit backstory)

nobara's backstory was mostly the same, and also because she has sukuna as her reluctant mentor she was even more unhinge and crazy and definitely can keep up with yuuji and megumi during their shenaningas.

yuuji ate sukuna's finger(s) when he's way smaller, like probably six or seven, so sukuna has YEARS of dealing with humanity (thank god for uraume). during those years, itadori jin was also still alive and well (even tho kaori/kenjaku already gone their way outta their lives) so sukuna, recognizing jin's soul as his twin brother, reluctantly becoming yuuji's babysitter. when the sorcerers found out that sukuna was finally reincarnated around yuuji's 14th birthday, they met with deadpanned but deadly 'fuck around and find out' stare from sukuna bcs "i was here for years already, i have zero patience to deal with you fools because i have to deal with them (yuuji, jin, and wasuke)' shenanigans" which yeah, fine, no one can challenge sukuna anyway so they pressure yuuji into attending jujutsu high while also consuming sukuna's fingers as long as he didn't go on rampage and killing everyone.

megumi on the other hand,,, mamagumi was still alive and well, she's actually from a minor jujutsu clan and so when megumi show his ten shadows technique toji decided the safest way is to strongarmed himself into becoming zen'in clan's head (or at least kill the current clan elders) and pressure them into making megumi the clan heir. toji already got the reputation of being the Sorcerer Killer even tho most of his kills are curse user. megumi's strenght definitely came from toji but mamagumi is where he got his steel of spine. so for nearly a decade, the zen'in family closed their family home and had some 'modernization' and that's why megumi barely knew satoru (despite the latter being gojo's clan heir).

during nobara-yuuji-megumi's first year (with yuta-maki-toge-panda as their second year senpais and hakari-kirara as their third year senpais!) they definitely gave yaga headache bcs the three got the nastiest luck and their missions mostly got derailed in the weirdest way. but the higher ups never really messed them bcs sukuna, after finding all of his fingers and thus got his own body at the end of the trio's first year, are very (reluctantly) protective of them.

when they got to second year, they never met satoru-shoko-suguru at the beginning bcs just a few days before the year started they somehow got derailed into another universe (and went universes-hopping and getting into crazy shenanigans!). the only reason why yaga (and kusakabe as their second year sensei) didn't fret is because uraume and tengen reassure them that the trio and sukuna are fine, but probably causing chaos in another universes.

shoko, as someone from a minor clan, has heard all of the gossip about their absent senpais but she didn't really pay attention to them because she thought they're too wild to be true (but mostly true). suguru, as someone from a mundane family, didn't know what to think about their absent senpais because he can accept the existence of curses and curse energy but surely universe-hopping are too crazy and science-fiction? satoru on the other hand, very much envy his senpais because he want to go on an adventure to a different universe too! also he's curious about their strength because from what he heard from the rumor mill, the three senpais are strong, tho definitely not the strongest like him.

(the sashisu trio already met their third year senpais, and for satoru it was a bewildering experience bcs what do you mean the timid okkotsu yuta is a special grade?? wait he's my distant relative?! maki zen'in didn't have curse energy and can't see curses?! but she's strong as fuck, yeah definitely trained by the Sorcerer Killer himself. a very good influence for shoko tho, and suguru def hit it off with yuta and they have some tea every once in a while like old men)

the trio plus sukuna finally come back just before the kyoto-tokyo goodwill events, which also how sashisu met the first year arata nitta, the second year kokichi muta, kasumi miwa, and noritoshi kamo, the third year mai zenin, momo nishimiya, and aoi todo aka yuuji's so called brother. the fourth years student, utahime and mei mei, even tho they can't participate they still come and meet the other students and hanging out with hikari and kirara as the other fourth years.

on day one of the event, a portal opened up on the school's ground when the others are already gathered around. shocked, they stand guard and got ready to attack but a few seconds later a familiar shout was heard and those who were familiar with the voice relaxed. nue flew in, nobara on her back, while they can see yuuji ran closer to the portal with megumi on his shoulder.

nobara : "faster guys, the portal brought us home!"

sukuna from a distance : "fucking finally!"

megumi : "sukuna, stop fighting them and come here quickly before the portal get closed!"

the other people stand still in shock, yuuji and megumi finally come through the portal, with sukuna suddenly appear behind them and push them quickly, making them tumble down with nobara too.

nobara : "thank god for tengen-sama because we're finally home!"

sukuna : "i'm fucking done with you brats, don't bother me for the next three years or there will be blood!"

yuuji, oblivious to how others see them : "no way! you told us you're gonna teach us the healing thing after we got home!"

yaga, done with everything : "so you finally back, huh?!"

yaga then scolded them in front of the others, while sashisu who just met them and still feel very shocked about everything can only just watch as their senpais, who looked very different and more mature than from the pictures, being scolded by their teacher while the being with huge pressure that can only be sukuna crossed all of his four arms and growled at everyone.

because of this very shocking event, the opening of the goodwill event got pushed for a day so the second year trio can rest a bit. they chatted instead, bringing sukuna into the fold too.

todo : "brother, what happened to your face?!"

maki : "kugisaki, what happened to your eyes?!"

satoru : "heyyy heard you're really sukuna the king of curses, how about we fight for a bit to see who's stronger?!"

sukuna, laughing meanly : "ah, you six eyes users are all the same even after a thousand years. yeah no, brat, ask me again when your power get more mature."

so satoru very much determined to fight sukuna, tried and failed to flirt with megumi bcs he's very much taken by yuuji and nobara, tried to flirt with sukuna instead but got flat out no because "you're still underage, what the fuck?!" while suguru laugh meanly at him at every rejection but also sadly weep himself while satoru and shoko laugh bcs he got rejected by mai zen'in. shoko instead mooned over her very much amazing and beautiful and strong senpais aka maki and nobara, and the girls taught shoko everything they knew.

when nanami and yuu start at jujutsu high, sashisu are more stable mentally bcs their senpais influence, and also crazier bcs they're not afraid of a lot of shits especially after sukuna got attach to them and reluctantly help them with a lot of shits.

in the end, yuu didn't die, suguru didn't defected, and satoru wasn't burdened by the title of the strongest alone but instead got a lot of comrades around him that also share his vision of a better jujutsu society. there's more chaos and even more universe-traveling shenanigans but this timeline is probs ended up better than other universe they visited.

(there's still a lot of shits i wanna write about them but maybe someday.......)

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spotaus · 10 days ago

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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.”

#new age au #Gods these guys are so so silly to me #I wanted this to be Error's perspective mostly but also. I love the others dearly #I need y'all to know that Dust and Nightmare 100% talked about Error's situation after Night offered the deal and they agreed it was #probably the best call for Error's sake if nothing else. But like. What poor timing for such a strong orphan to come out of nowhere #and immediately mess up Night's new rule lmao.#Also idk if I lost steam into the 2nd half so I apologize if that's not as tasty but like... I had a lot going on and I knew if I stopped #it would never get finished ever haha-#Let's see what other thoughts i had...#Definitely need to write Error first arriving and feeling the whimsy of meeting Geno and getting to rant to Nightmare about his newest craz #idea and getting his own courtyard to try things out and all that jazz #And also experiencing Ccino panic at the sight of a young child because ??? Night ur better than that what happened??? And subconsciously #pick up on the brotherly energy they have towards eachother.#And to let Error set boundaries about his tower #who can come in and who can't and how to call for him (use strings outside like a door-knocker basically) and just! Watch him adjust and #thrive!!!!#anyways yeah. Dust definitely becomes the one Error speaks to the most often besides Nightmare. And Nightmare is busy so he mainly just #checks in on him to listen to his new ideas and make sure he's still alive #so there's not a whole lot of interaction aside from Night being a positive and encouraging force to Error's magic practice (maybe they #train on occassion too?)#And then. Y'know. Nightmare shrinks and is just a lil goofy nerd and loves listening to Error and thinks he's super duper cool.#(OH! And Error turns 13 like. a few days into his emplyment #so he's 14 when Night becomes 13 again-)#okay good night everyone!!

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