#idk how to deal lmao
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how does one respond when one's favorite author(s) comments on one's fic, like, how does one construct a comment purely out of drool, tears, and maniacal giggling? asking for a friend. >.>
#taking a brief break from work to chip at the ongoing mountain of feedback i never expected#i feel too supportedddddd#too much happy#too much love#how do i cope with this?#how do yall cope with this?#surely i cant be the only one who struggles with this??#how can something simultaneously feel so good and yet so exhausting?!?!#idk how to deal lmao#ESP WHEN SOME OF UR FICS ARE MAKING ME CRY LIKE A FERAL BEAST AT 3AM like#also sometimes it feels like yall's fics have eyes#like oh HELLO kenobster ur looking nice this morning but weren't u just screaming incoherently at the floor like 3 hours ago bc of my fic?#lol and honestly like another thing is that yall just saw straight into the deepest levels of my soul#like#you just saw me naked!#and now i'm expected to waltz right in and show my face in a comment? it's too embarrassing!#does this make sense to literally anyone else? lol#or do i need to like maybe sleep for more than 4 hours tonight#personal#kb post
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been thinking a lot abt fwb!gojo today.... this is his first time ever doing this kind of a thing btw. i do not think he sleeps around AT ALL. but with you, he just... you start off as very good friends but then it keeps escalating – you start sitting closer and closer, your thighs always touching as you lounge on the couch. his hands seem to always find your waist in public, your seem to be in his hair more and more. and the thing is... satoru isn't all that good at deciphering his own feelings. he isn't entirely sure what this is; the butterflies in his stomach whenever you laugh at his jokes, the warmth that spreads under his skin whenever he sees you bend over. it's weird. he doesn't know what to do.
so, when one night you inch closer with your hand on his thigh, he lets you. he welcomes you with open arms. you ask whether it's okay or not and he lets out a shaky yes, his cheeks burning with something new, his eyes low and heavy as he stares at your lips. you feel so good on top of him, your body flushes to his and he thinks about how perfect this is. how much he likes it. the night is like a wet dream for him, something he's always dreamed off but when you leave the bed and hop into the shower without giving him a kiss, he doesn't even know what the weight on his heart means. where it comes from. he doesn't ponder over it for too long though as you step outside the bathroom in a shirt way too big, his shirt. he watches you get dressed and hums when you joke about his bed hair. he thinks you look gorgeous. he doesn't ask for you to stay – if this is what you want, to leave without the desire to continue your adventures from the last night, then so be it. satoru wants you to be happy. you tell him it was good and that you'd like to, perhaps, do it again and he can taste you on his tongue when he says that he feels the same. satoru will take every crumb you'll give him with a smile on his face. he won't complain and he won't ask for more, not yet at least. for now, he'll be completely and utterly at your mercy, a lapdog for you to play with whenever you so desire to do. a selfless kind of love.
#this might not be everybody's satoru i realize#but idk i think he's a lonely boy who doesn't know how to deal with his feelings#he really does like you and he wants your attention#he wants your love#he just . doesn't know how to ask for it#idk ok this is also wordvomit#but yeah sad little meow meow satoru who just wants to do everything and anything for you#he's kind of a knight in this#selfless type of love yk#even got the dog motif in lmao#okok i'm sleepy so idk if any of this even makes sense just bear with me yeah#(the bear is very calm and friendly please relax)#mickey is daydreaming#angel boy#gojo x reader
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I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.
#at the risk of getting put on a list there is something tragic & relatable in nightmare#someone who desperately wants to make connections but just can't understand how#anyway wraith is one of my favorite princesses for stuff like this (and bc tragedy aside her route is a riot)#also im sorry if she doesn't say that line if you got there via nightmare#that's how i got her and i could've sworn she did? But i only found footage of her saying it in spectre#slay the princess#stp#stp wraith#the wraith#stp spectre#stp nightmare#side note archetypal/heart#(slash so i don't accidentally tag them)#pointed out on another post of mine that you get wraith via nightmare by killing her and via spectre by leaving her in the basement#in both cases its a rejection of her (rejection being one of wraith's main themes)#which makes me speculate on spectre's ch 3 (which i think we currently have very little info on?)#Trying to run from Nightmare should technically be a 'rejection' as well#but you get MOC from that (and from choosing to stay with her)#imo bc you're just repeating the same inaction which got you into this situation in the first place#you don't want to slay her. you don't want to set her free. So you just leave her there (again)#and so you get MOC where things have only gotten worse and you have no choice left. Because you chose *not* to take action again#So I wonder if spectre 3 will be a similar 'repeating your past mistakes' type of deal#i was skeptical about it coming from stabbing yourself while she possesses you or trying to crush her bones#but it does make sense with that in mind#im curious if it'll parallel MOC#except instead of having no choice but to free the princess you have no choice but to obey the narrator again#maybe you both end up stuck in the cabin forever again?#idk#sorry i probably should've put all of that tag in the post lmao
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habsburg-era spain and austria to me is like. that one popular couple in highschool that knows theyre better than everyone else and WILL tear u to fucking pieces if u insult them......... and also they are dangerous semi-immortal teenagers at the height of their power with attitude problems. so Worse.
before that tho i like to think they were young friends with similar dreams.
baby outfits based on these sketches from hima from years ago lol.
#hws spain#hws austria#spaus#hws spaus#my art#i like to think they're closer than ppl would expect#like they hold an understanding for one another that not a lot of others get yknow?#theyre very comfortable around each other bc theyve seen each other at their best and worst. idk. lmao#antonio knows how to deal with roderichs fussiness and roderich knows how to deal with antonios rage#ngl i always see them as good friends who dated for a while but realized theyre better as friends but still care deeply for one another
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stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff
and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing
like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)
stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context
while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands
ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is
idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok
#stan pines#ford pines#stanley pines#stanford pines#gravity falls#stan twins#as for the 'still on your mind' thing to me its stan literally thinking about bill despite ford resolving to move past it#or alternatively me on my same coin theory obsession lmao#me yelling and screaming at ouroboros being used to link to the axolotl and bill and how ford didn't actually keep it#which brings up even more questions about it reappearing in the shack when stan takes over#of course even if him realising about reincarnation being a thing i think its still way less to deal with than his actual issues#something something a same soul doesnt mean much when he already proved himself a better person a million times over#idk my thoughts on reincarnation as a concept is like eh??? anyway#also completely unrelated but stan writing fanfic means he knows what soos meant when he was talking about stan fics#soos seems like a gen fic writer especially with the ones we got as those promos#the train one where he comes up with a giant backstory for the setting that has nothing to do with the fic bros is super funny#but meanwhile we have stan the canonical smut writer who had to be writing it that summer#would he be a self insert shipper? would he projecting on the duchess instead? is he both???#i have many questions#then again judging from hows theres a wedding scene that he got super emotional over he might just be a shipper????#this has nothing to do with my original post#...or does it cos the axolotl last appears reacting to stan freaking out about count li--#anyway if you think this post is longer than my usual its cos i physically made myself delete most tags and put it in the actual post
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Varian: Why did God give me a uterus? Everything fucking hurts! *in pain and dying*
Hugo: *So dumb that he thinks he got Varian pregnant and just stands there in concern*
#varian and the seven kingdoms#vat7k#alchemy boyfriends#varian vat7k#varian the alchemist#hugo vat7k#varigo#hugo rottewange#hugo the human#my headcannons#trans varian moment fr#hugo doesn't know how to deal with varian's hormones#idk why I wrote this varigo thing it's so stupid lmao
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I think Neil is always going to be a nostalgic little shit in the dumbest ways. I think they’re going to be retired in their mid-forties grown ass adults with a house and a mortgage, and one day Andrew wakes up alone and goes outside to see if neil’s gone for a run or something and then a shingle falls right beside him, and he looks up and Neil’s just. On the roof. Smoking a cigarette with his legs dangling over the edge of their little suburban bungalow and Andrew is just like “Jesus fuck junkie” because he’s too goddamn old for this.
#Neil tells him it was just his way of dealing with a nightmare bc the familiarity brings him peace#And Andrew’s like “how far is this going to go”#“when we’re sixty and you get sentimental are you going to go find a reporter so you can rant about the ravens being shit again?”#Idk I think the ideal future andreil dynamic is Andrew constantly being exasperated at Neil’s sentimentality for that first year at psu#Jean is so sick of Neil calling him up to remind him of that first banquet like#“Hey remember that time when you were about to diss Andrew but then saw Renee and froze up like a dumbass? LMAO loser”#aftg#neil josten#Andrew minyard
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hi everyone. letting you all know that i find the clicker game about the guy who likes clicking. the one called clickolding. that one. it's. hhot
#clickolding#something something objectum control power dynamics anonymity in intimacy desperation for the mundane etc#it's not abt the clicks themselves. it's abt the clickold and his reaction to it. it's abt how much he loves that clicker#he trusts YOU and ONLY YOU with that clicker. but he doesn't trust you enough to show his face#something something ''the waves inside me would break another man''#sorry it's Hot what do you want me to say#starboy.exe#congratulations followers you now know something way too embarrassing abt me :D#edit: OMG HE HAS A WIFE TOO??? BRO... SORRY THE DEAL KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER EVERY PASSING CLICK#one thing abt me is that i love the fantasy of a straight/straight-passing guy having a weird queer sidepiece. even if his is a clicker#like the Object of the clicker. we're just the vessel through which he gets the clicks#but i mean. sorry. i'm oversharing lmao#i have a thing for unsettling men. idk what that's called other than bad taste generally
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:-P
#how long ago did i watch pacific rim? i feel like it might have been last year but i finally drew this lmao#sometimes it just takes a while. newt specifically gets under my skin tho bc i think his research interests r kinda similar to mine#at least in a broad sense. but im dealing with cyanobacteria which is less exciting to most ppl lol but any fanfic i read thats like: newt#has 6 phds im like fucking what? what r they in? they have to be literature based right?! when would u have time to independently design.#carry out. write and defend for 6 independent projects in different topics by his age?#what as waste of time. i say as a person who would happily fuck around and collect degrees without ever having to get a real job#idk characters i relate to make me a little unhinged bc i do not like to relate to characters lol#pacific rim#herman gottlieb#newt geiszler#newton geiszler#tw blood#tw gore#also i agree with herman abt the numbers quote. physics is like literally understanding the fabric of the universe so like yeah#also i cant draw hermann and i cant see his face without thinking of owen from torchwood who i hated lol#pacrim
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y'all. we're going to see them kiss again.
like.
how am i meant to deal with that fact <3
#OFMD#OFMD Season 2#Gentlebeard#Blackbonnet#Edward Teach#Stede Bonnet#Sometimes it randomly hits me harder than usual and I have a moment of feeling SIGNIFICANTLY UNWELL LMAO#Like sometimes I'll be minding my business right#And it just feels like s2 hiatus as usual#It feels like we DON'T in fact have that looming so close#And then I just randomly sing Prince#Or just randomly think about something from the show#And it DAWNS ME#OR MORE LIKE HSDJKLSDS#IT HITS ME LIKE AN 18 WHEELER IDK#The FIRST kiss still makes me feel such intense emotions after all this time#How am I meant to deal with a SECOND#AND THIRD#AND FOURTH#ETC ETC ETC#????????????????????????
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louie no stop it you can’t use his wings as salsa chips!!!
#speed running making fanart rn lmao#no bug fables spoilers in the tags I am like. an hour in. I know nothing and I want to keep it that way#art#pikmin#bug fables#louie pikmin#leif bug fables#I’m so curious about that little freak’s deal. what is up with him huh#by that little freak I mean Leif but it’s equally applicable to louie#though I know the answer to why louie is Like That….cough cough HIS NANA cough cough#IDK HOW TO DRAW LEIF DO NOT COME AT ME#I can’t look him up for reference because I am afraid of spoilers I will have to rely on my piss poor memory#ughhh love them both so much…..pikmin my beloved. bug fables my maybe beloved#have not gotten far into it but I like it so far. we’ll see if it gets the my beloved status
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[Poll suggested by: Anonymous]
#linked universe#character poll#lu hyrule#lu legend#lu time#lu wind#lu four#lu twilight#lu sky#lu warriors#lu wild#I’d like to say leg cause he has enough random shit to deal with most of the others bullshit#but how easy is that for him to grab on a whim#does he even carry everything he owns with him constantly? we can assume not by the one comic in his house where his stuffs strewn all over#I feel like people will argue for wild but tbh his slate/sage abilities are too clunky for use in most combat scenarios#they coukd work for smth more strategic but not so much a brawl#four is another fun option given that there’s four of him but like he’s small and throwable#I can see someone just like grabbing his arm and throwing him across the clearing lmao#idk about the others tho I think you can argue for most of them#not sure how good wind would fair given he’s also small but I think he’d be down to bite if it came to it /j
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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.
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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gregnant
anton belongs to @poicyss
#someone help them LMAO#im all kinds of panic induced stress rn so. woe pregant auggie be upon ye#shes very excited but also extremely fucking nervous and couldnt think of any other way to break the news#also because how do you deal with the spawn of a literal shadow creature. what the fuck do u do#im sure theyve probably discussed the possibility of being parents once in a while but not like actually intended to conceive#idk much else though ive never been pregnant. shrugs#i think her bump is probably smaller bc vincent forms as a dog before he takes on human form a couple months after being born#so the fetus is smaller.. although its more obvious when shes in her animal form so she doesnt transform while pregnant just in case#can you tell ive thought abt this a normal amount#my art#myart#doodles#my oc#friend oc#augusta#anton#suggestive#?#i mean kinda..? its implied this is after they boink but not much else#oc lore
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💒🌸 Haru Week - Day 6 - Free! Day 🌸💒
whoops I know these are out of order, so pls bear with me🥺🙏 thank you so so much to everyone who has supported me during haru week!!💙💙💙💙 (tho I totally turned it into makoharu week lol😂💦💚💙)
this was a lot of fun and I really hope yall enjoyed it too! haru will always have a special place in my heart💘
#haruseternalsummer2024#makoharu#harumako#makoto tachibana#haruka nanase#free!#free! iwatobi swim club#whew// i cant believe i managed to do almost all of the prompts for haru week#i know i missed one; ;#but i wasnt sure what to draw;;;;#also this month has been insane#i had a friend visiting the first week. i was out in LA the second week#then i flew to texas for windblume and then drove to chicago this weekend for anime magic#its been crazyyy#idk how ive been able to draw lol#but im so happy i was able to participate!!#i love love love haru forever and ever#(tho of course i had to sneak makoto in there too lmao)#(theyre a package deal)#💚💙💚💙💚💙#shitty#(< that's my art tag)
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i wish it wasn't so normal for people to complain about unfinished wips or fics that take a long time to update. because sometimes i think i have a really fun idea for a fic but it'd take a while for me to write, and i like talking about my work as i do it and i don't like writing entire fics over like 20k without sharing, because i lose steam. so if i were to write and post that cool fic idea, it'd be as a wip. and then i think about all the people who just refuse to engage with wips, or all the other people who would just go "update pls" all the time, and of how people only really comment in the first 24 hours something is posted and then it's lost to obscurity, and then i just go "actually whats the point in going through the effort writing this out? i'll just daydream about it now and then and be done with it." and then i don't write it. alas!
#rimi talks#shoutout to that one person who followed me from resi fandom and commented on one of my dc fics like ''pls update that resi fic''#also shoutout to all those tumblr posts about how theres nOthInG wOrSe than finding a GoOd FiC but its uNFiNIsHeD#i used to really like writing longfic but these days i kind of shy away from it bc it rly does get discouraging#like they say ''write for yourself'' and i do but i certainly dont share just for my own satisfaction yk???#anyways. i already have space fic and theres no need for me to start another fic. even if it would be fun.#ive also just been in a Mood about writing since yesterday and thats not helping matters 😔#but it feels like a stupid thing to be in A Mood about. idk. whatever jdlksk hopefully itll pass and ill be normal tomorrow :/#bc talking to duck earlier today we came up with a really fun mermay fic premise. but. writing? me? multichap again? lol. lmao even#like i would love to!!!!!! having two ongoing multichaps wouldnt kill me i like to pingpong between wips#but dealing with people whining about update times or telling me they refuse to read bc its a wip...... dunno if i can do that again fellas#okay. enough woes and whining. i guess i will go play a video game
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