#is this bit funny? no. will i keep doing it? yes.

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett, ororo munroe, laura kinney, wanda wilson, wade wilson, kurt wagner, jean grey, scott summers (separate) x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ how they are when you are on your time of the month┊1k words

contains: some smutty topics for logan & jean, periods and all the complimentary side effects obviously because it’s so generous ahahahahaaaaaaaaa

➤ author's note: oh how i hate being a woman at times, if only some strong mutants could come to life and help ease the suffering…

let’s get this out of the way— yes, logan howlett can smell it and is able to tell when you’re on our period. in fact, he’s even able to sniff out the difference between the blood from menstruation and the blood from injuries. he’s been… “around the block” to put it lightly, he knows what you are going through, will be nice about it, and will use his experience to help care for you. he won’t be as sassy as he usually is even if you are a bit snappy, he’ll get extra food and put aside snacks for you, and he’ll give you as much or as little space as you want. also very willing to eat you out or cuddle-fuck you during it, being a little messy doesn’t faze him and he’s probably done nastier. 8/10, he’ll help you get through it without any complaint.

ororo munroe knows when your cycle is coming before you do, she keeps track of it and is on duty to take care of you the second you wake up with that uncomfortable feeling in your panties. she’s already inside the bathroom attached to your room running a warm bath completely with bath bombs and flower petals, ready to carry you into the water, and to strip your bedsheets for a wash if they get stained. there’s even a cute little wicker basket full of candies and drinks on your bedside with a stuffed animal she brought from target sitting on your bedside. it may seem excessive to some for something that happens every month, but she believes the effort is worth it if it means easing your pains. 10/10, she’s an angel descended from heaven in your eyes.

both of your dads are pretty useless (worst! logan is less knowledgeable than his original counterpart) on the topic and althea gives you a piece of chocolate at most, so you and laura kinney need to take care of each other when shark weeks come around. so many cuddles, kisses, and movie nights while snacking because cravings are a bitch. she’ll pat you on the back and rub your shoulders, muttering little “i know, princess, i know” as you whine. don’t even think of moving if you’re in a position like that, she’ll run around the house to get you pain relievers and a hot water bottle. 9/10, she’s such a wonderful girlfriend.

not sure why, but i feel like you and wanda wilson’s periods would sync a lot? anyhow, it’s a nightmare dealing with mood swings, cramps, and cravings all while taking care of babypool, so there’s a general rule not to take anything seriously during those days because you’re both sensitive and irritable. once it’s all over though, you’re back in each other’s arms and apologizing for anything that might have been said or done (nothing serious happened, it’s just something like “i’m sorry for saying that in an off tone and making you think i was mad at you”). 5/10, could be a lot better but the days afterward are kinda like honeymoon bliss again.

wade wilson is the biggest shit of them all, he definitely says “and that’s on period” every time he finds out, calls you his little ketchup bottle, sends you period cramp moodboards which are just poorly cropped photos of him in the deadpool suit doubled over in pain from a fight— however, he will make you laugh so hard you’ll cry and forget about the ache in your body. 2/10 in terms of helpfulness but 10/10 in terms of funny jokes and conversations. 

you’ll give poor kurt wagner a heart attack every time you whine out in pain and curl up on the couch, clutching onto your stomach and contorting about to find a comfortable position. despite the promises from yourself and everyone else that you will be fine as the aching feeling is temporary, he can’t help but bite his nails from worry. the suffering of people with a uterus will never cease to shock him, they really have to bleed freely like that for a few days every month? he will not leave you alone and is going to treat your every request like an order from royalty. anything you want, you get, and no amount of assurance is going to convince him he doesn’t have to do all that, so you might as well enjoy it while you’re moody and suffering. 

jean grey is one of those people who just don’t have period cramps and still glows despite it all which you are so fucking jealous of. that being said, she’s the best person to be around when it hits. since she’s basically the mansion’s school nurse, she always has snacks, water, pads/tampons of every variety, and pain relievers on hand with so much bounty that she never seems to run out. as your girlfriend, she’s also willing to be a bit sneaky and write you a doctor’s note to get you out of classes regardless of if you are a teacher or a student. she’s also down to fuck even if you’re on your period since she knows orgasms are proven to lessen the pain and she’ll also massage your tits if they are feeling tender (and because she likes your chest no matter the size). 9/10, she can be a bit busy at times but is perfect aside from that.

please hold hands with scott summers and go with him when picking out pads/tampons, he will get overwhelmed by the amount of options and panic buy one of everything. what are wings? liners? what’s the difference between yellow and green, is it lemon or lime? he might forget that you’re more sensitive during these times and slip a comment into a conversation that would make you cry when it usually makes you laugh, but he’ll remind you to stay hydrated, will go out of his way to buy you brownies from your favorite bakery, and will smother you in cuddles. 

[httpsdana]

Hi how are you, please can you do something with Pau Cubarsi and just something super sweet and fluffy x

Blush and Bliss~Pau Cubarsi

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

i enjoyed writing this so much. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

It’s a Friday night, and y/n finally convinced Pau to do a self-care evening with her. He was hesitant at first, but with after a little pleading and a playful pout, he caved, laughing as he said, “Alright, princesa, whatever you want.”

She set up everything in the bathroom, laying out face masks, lip masks, and even some under-eye patches. Pau looks at it all with wide eyes, a bit overwhelmed. “Are we really putting all of this on my face?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and you’ll love it!” she insisted holding up a fluffy headband. “Now sit down, handsome. This is going to be so relaxing.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of the tub. “If you say so. But only because my princesa wants to pamper me.” He lets her put the headband on, holding back a laugh as she adjust it to keep his hair out of his face.

"you look so cute" she pinched his cheeks, making him roll his eyes playfully, opposite to the blush that found its way on his cheeks

She started by applying a hydrating face mask to his skin, and Pau sits still for about ten seconds before leaning in, trying to steal a kiss. “Ah-ah,” she denys, pushing him back gently. “We can’t mess up the mask, Pau! Give it a few minutes.”

He pouts, feigning offense. “You’re so cruel,” he teases. “How am I supposed to sit here with you looking so cute and not kiss you?”

y/n laughs slightly, rolling her eyes. “You’ll survive. Let me just finish applying the mask.” Once it’s on, she grabs two pink lip masks, handing one to him. “Okay, now this one goes on your lips.”

Pau examines the lip mask with curiosity. “It’s… pink,” he says, chuckling. “Are you sure this is going to make me look good?”

“Of course!” she grins, peeling the backing off and helping him place it on his lips. “You’re going to be the most radiant man in Barcelona.”

He tries to speak but remembers the mask and just gives her an exaggerated thumbs-up, making her giggle. Then she puts on her own lip mask, sitting down beside him.

y/n sits there, scrolling through her phone, showing him funny memes and videos, and he’s trying to laugh without moving the mask. But after a few minutes, he scoots closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. She narrows her eyes at him. “Pau… don’t even think about it.” she mumbled under the mask

He feigns innocence, his eyes wide. “Think about what, cariño?” he said, his mask slipping a bit.

She gives him a playful glare. “You know what. No sneaking kisses. We need these to stay put.”

He pouts again, mumbling through the mask, “You’re so mean.” Then he adds in a dramatic tone, “I’m suffering, and you don’t even care. I just want one little kiss.”

“Patience,” she giggles. “Good things come to those who wait.” She pats his cheek, and he sighs, pretending to be heartbroken.

Eventually, the time is up, and y/n gently peels off the lip and face masks. Pau watches her carefully, his green eyes watching intensely every detail of her face as she gently helped him remove the masks.

He eagerly waited for her to finish so he can finally close the distance between them. y/n leaned in to inspect his face, admiring how soft his skin looks.

“There,” she say with a satisfied smile, running a finger along his jaw. “You look radiant, Pau. How do you feel?”

He grins, reaching up to touch his cheeks. “Like I’m glowing. Guess my princesa knows what she’s doing.”

She's about to respond when he suddenly grabs the back of her neck and pulls her close pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. y/n laughs against him, feeling the warmth of his hands and the giddy happiness bubbling up in her chest. He pulls back with a mischievous grin. “Finally!” he says. “You have no idea how hard that was.”

She giggles, resting her forehead against his. “You survived. And now you’re all soft and pampered.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed with the results. “I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something with this self-care thing.”

“See?” she said in a teasing tone. “Next time, you won’t even need convincing.”

“Next time?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his lap. “Only if it means I get more time like this with you.” He brushes his nose against hers, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. “And maybe a few more of those kisses.”

She smiles, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Pau. Otherwise, I’d make you wait even longer.”

“Oh, so I’m cute now?” he teases, his eyes gleaming with mischief, although his cheeks had turned into the darkest shade of red. “You didn’t seem to think I was cute when you were pushing me away earlier.”

y/n laughs at his words playfully rolling her eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re adorable. But let’s go finish our self-care night with some popcorn and a movie. I promise no more masks, just you, me, and maybe a blanket fort.”

He lights up at the idea, taking her hand and tugging you toward the living room. “That,” he says, squeezing her hand, “sounds perfect. As long as I get to hold my princesa the whole time.”

The two of them end the night snuggled up in a cozy blanket fort, laughing, sharing popcorn, and stealing plenty of kisses—face masks no longer in the way.

[hannahssimblr]

Beginning // Prev // Next

Transcript

Gabija: Hello! Please, come in. It is cold outside.

Jude: Yeah, the weather's turned.

Gabija: I'm making spaghetti.

Jude: Oh, you cooked? I actually just wanted to talk really quickly. I don't have time for-

Gabija: No, come. You'll have a plate.

Jude: Um...

Gabija: This way. It smells good, yes?

...

Gabija: This is my housemate, Lizzie. She is from the UK, like you.

Jude: Okay, well, I'm not from you UK at all. I actually haven't been there either, so-

Lizzie: Alright?

Jude: Yeah. Hi. Look, Gabija, can we just-

Gabija: Do you want to taste the sauce?

Jude: No, not really.

Gabija: No, come. You can tell me if it has too much salt or too little.

Jude: [tastes it] Yeah, it tastes like tomato sauce.

Gabija: [laughs uproariously] You're so funny! I tell Lizzie all the time of how funny you are.

Lizzie: She really does. Funny, talented, handsome... among other things. You've really got the full package, haven't you?

Gabija: Come, sit. The paste is finished.

...

Gabija: Do you know Jude has his birthday on Saturday?

Lizzie: Yes! I heard this. Gabby mentioned it to me once or twice.

Jude: Did she.

Lizzie: Have you plans together?

Jude: No.

Gabija: He is going to a party with friends.

Lizzie: Aw! You didn't want to go, Gabs?

Jude: It's close friends only. She doesn't know the guy hosting.

Lizzie: Well, at least you can both go to B-

Gabija: Lizzie! Shh!

Jude: What's going on?

Gabija: I have bought you something. A gift.

Jude: Oh, God. No, you really... I don't want anything, Gabija, seriously.

Gabija: You talked about how you like Bon Iver...

Jude: Oh, no...

Gabija: And I read they are coming to Berlin in some weeks...

Jude: Jesus...

Gabija: So I got tickets! One for you, one for me!

Jude: Fuck sake, Gabija.

Lizzie: [chortles] Is that how you say you love something in Ireland?

Gabija: You don't want them.

Jude: You made me a card, too?

Gabija: Yes. I painted it.

Jude: Why?

Gabija: For your birthday. I wanted for you to smile.

Jude: But we aren't even together. This is just casual. Why would you do all of this?

Lizzie: Excuse me. I have to go off and... do something.

Gabija: Have I misunderstood?

Jude: I'm just not interested in getting serious to the point that we're like, going to events together, if I'm honest.

Gabija: Oh.

Jude: ...sorry.

Gabija: You don't like me.

Jude: Look, if you got the wrong idea... [breaks off] It's me, right? It's me. I'm not ready for anything serious. I'm not looking for a relationship, and like I said, it's me, not you. I'm the issue.

Gabija: I don't think it's the truth.

Jude: It is.

Gabija: No. There is something about me you do not like.

Jude: Why would you say that?

Gabija: Because you were not happy with me when we had coffee with your Irish friend.

Jude: Okay, well, in fairness, on that day, you weren't actually supposed to come. You invited yourself.

Gabija: You said I could come.

Jude: I heavily implied that you couldn't, actually.

Gabija: you implied?

Jude: Yes, I implied.

Gabija: And do you want me to read your thoughts? You did not say no.

Jude: Well, you're supposed to pick up the signals.

Gabija: The signals are, 'I will not tell you, but please do not come because then I will be very upset'? I don't know what to say. You are a confusing man.

Jude: I'm not.

Gabija: You say one thing but mean another, and say you are not confusing?

Jude: Sorry if I'm confusing, then. Should I go, then?

Gabija: I don't care. if you like, you can finish your spaghetti.

Jude: [incredulous whisper] Why would I want that?

Gabija: It will otherwise go to waste.

Jude: I think in this case it's okay to waste it.

Gabija: Leave it on the table. Maybe I will eat it tomorrow.

Jude: Whatever you want. Hey, we're not going to be awkward in college now, are we?

Gabija: I think yes.

Jude: Ah, well. Obviously you can keep the tickets.

Gabija: I do not know who Bon Iver are. I got them just for you.

Jude: That makes me a bit sad, to be honest.

Gabija: Take them with you.

Jude: Thanks.

Gabija: Bye, Jude.

Jude: Yeah, bye.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Hi Ray!

Random question - do you have any specific ideas in mind for what Fullmetal Sky Ed looks like, outfit-wise?

Because istg one of these days I'm gonna get around to drawing one of your posts (dunno which one yet) but I don't want to default to "Canon-Ed's design w/out the automail" (Think he has different variations of his coat? Like, a sleeveless vest or short sleeve style one so he doesn't overheat in summer, a winter coat version, ect?)

Thanks!

(also, wrench whirlwind keeps trying to kill me, it's too goddamn funny)

I do think that, overall, it's pretty accurate to say that, overall, FMS!Ed's style pretty much is canon-Ed but without the automail.

Cause that's who he is.

His soul is a lot older than his body so his tastes are pretty cemented into place.

But, that being said, given their circumstances, I do think he has a bit more variety in his wardrobe. Not only is society, and thus the clothing, different but they have a home and places to actually store a full wardrobe.

So black jeans/slacks/cargo pants/etc are an option for him now instead of black leather pants 24/7 but I feel as if he'd still consider shorts to be a sleep and/or training thing instead of everyday wear. (Arco are gonna see his crop top-shorts combo for training and never be the same)

Absolutely yes on the different styles for his coat because it's HIS and without the automail he can experiment with it a bit. I also think he'd be fond of vests and hoodies both.

Combat boots are a must though because Ed never lost that need/habit of being ready to throw down any time/any place.

Hair is obviously still long and glorious, his eyes still bright and gold.

[umathurwin]

i still keep your number and your necklace

kiara carrera x rafe cameron; nsfw 18+

summary: Rafe pays Kiara a little visit at the surf shop when she's alone. Surely he won't have any ulterior motives, right?

tags, warnings, and more on ao3 !

“what are you doing here?”

no greeting, no niceties, nothing. rafe hadn’t exactly caught her at a great time, given the screen of texts between kie and her boyfriend was just a sea of blue now. even without that, she probably still would’ve had an attitude.

“damn, kid, i can’t come to shop? i can’t be a paying customer?” he mocked, fiddling with the displays and knocking over a pack of neon lures. he ignored the mess.

kiara didn’t give him a response, and he conceded. “fine. just wanted to stop by and say hello, is all.”

“so say it. then leave.”

rafe hissed, like he’d just touched a hot stove. “sweetheart, what’d i do to deserve this treatment?” he asked, pouting at her and walking around the counter.

his cologne reached her first and she had to shut her eyes to keep focus. as he slotted himself behind her, surely towering over her frame, her fingers wrapped around the bone-handled damascus that john b had given her for protection against wacky customers. and what better time than now?

he’s a little too perceptive for her, though. “my god, drop the knife. i’m not here to hurt you.” when the blade clattered to the ground, he smiled. “actually, i’m here for the opposite.”

oh, great. not again.

of course this wasn’t the first time he was paying one of these little sick visits. actually, she’d noticed a bit of a pattern of her dating a new man, and rafe quickly showing up to re-stake his claim on her body.

the first few times, it had been a typical bedroom-window tryst with him climbing into her sheets and folding her legs up to her ears, her biting her fist and trying to remain quiet. later it evolved into him dragging her to the backseat of his car at events and him cracking jokes about how obvious what they were doing was, and how neither of them must care. now, apparently, he’s evolved to showing up at her place of business in broad daylight.

“rafe, you know i can’t—”

“can’t? bullshit. you sure can,” he barked out a laugh before mocking her again. “can’t. that’s funny. what’s stopping you, exactly? and don’t tell me that pissant blonde you’ve been running around with. do you always pick boyfriends whose asses you know i could beat? is there some kind of thrill behind it?”

kiara squeezed her eyes shut, fingertips digging into the pressboard surface of the counter. her body betrayed her, the same way it always did when rafe got his hands on her, and she keeled back into his touch. “rafe… c’mon.”

“what?” he snapped, holding her hips tighter and grinding against her. his cock slotted against her a little too well and she had to bite back a whimper. “you afraid someone’s gonna come lookin’ for us? don’t wanna get caught with your pants down?”

“yes! i mean, no!”

“don’t even know what you want. poor girl,” he tutted. rafe took one hand and drifted it up her side, catching on the bottom hem of her shirt and lifting it a bit before it fell. no chance he didn’t feel the goosebumps on her skin as he trailed up her arm to her shoulder.

there’s a quick moment of relief when she felt him step back and his presence was replaced by a wave of humid air. too bad this was because he’d decided to kneel down, perfectly settling where his face was at eye level with her ass.

she could feel her face burning as he inspected her, gripping the soft flesh and pushing his thumb hard on the denim seam resting above her slit. her legs were starting to buckle and her head fell into her hands ashamedly.

he tugged her shorts down, catching her underwear and pulling those down too. rafe smiled when he was greeted with the familiar sight of her sticky, wet cunt. “goddamn, kie. d’this start the second i walked in here?”

“no!” she whined, but it was less a response to his question and more of a protesting squeal when he buried his face into her pussy. he dragged his tongue along her folds, adding drool to the slick mess.

kiara gasped, and her fingernails caught on the rough surface under her. her back arched and she had to fight not to reach back and grab rafe’s head to guide him.

(not that he needed much guiding, anyways. he’s had his tongue buried in this cunt so many times he’s confident he could make her cum in his sleep.)

as he lapped at her clit, she dropped the hesitant act and grinded back against his face. rafe grabbed the back of her thighs and she could feel him smiling into her pussy. nasty.

his angle could be better. she began to lift her leg to give him more room, but her dignity had her dropping her foot to the ground again.

once again, too perceptive. he grabbed her calf roughly and lifted her entire leg until her knee could rest on the counter’s edge. if she’d been modest before, she couldn’t be anymore with her dripping cunt right on display for him.

no time to feel bad about this, because he dove right back into eating her cunt. one of his fingers trailed near her ass and she let out a weak noise, so he pulled back. he must be playing nice today.

it wasn’t until she was riding out a powerful orgasm on his tongue that she realized how lucky it was their shop had no cameras. it wasn’t the safest set-up, but at least she was in the clear still.

he tugged her back to the ground, making her stand on wobbly legs. as rafe’s cock pressed against her slit, the illumination of her phone screen caught her eye. jj had responded, finally.

oh, right! what she was currently doing was bad. “fuck, please hurry, you have to leave soon—” she mewled. as he pushed inside her, rafe’s thumbs spread her open so he could sheath himself even easier.

“jesus, quit whining, will ya? i just made you cum, now it’s my turn. shut up or i’ll fuck you right on this floor.”

he’d do it, too. he’d bully her to the ground until her palms and knees were slipping on the disgusting surface below them. he’d belittle her for how she was still enjoying the degradation. he might even grab the back of her hair and push her all the way down until her cheek grazes the floor, too. he’d do all this and so much more, so she shut up.

then he was fully nested inside her. like always, the clock slowed and blood rushed in her ears. relaxing enough to let him in was one thing, bracing herself for what came next was another.

“mm, fuck, you feel that? well… you’re pulsing around me, so i guess you do. isn’t that divine? yknow i’d stay in here all day if i could.” rafe withdrew about halfway, then slowly pushed back in to the hilt. “if you’d let me. i know you miss this. feeling so full,” he thrusted a bit, just to fit the last of himself inside her, and she cried out. “feels the same as the last time. which says a lot.” when a slutty moan spilled out of her, he knew he’d won. he pulled out again, but this was the end of his mercy.

the trinkets on the counter were rattling as he fucked her, and he wouldn’t allow her head to fall with a firm grip on her curls.

“how about i make a little deal with you?” he asked, forcing his cock in so far he nudged against her cervix.

kiara cried out and sucked in a gasp. “w-what?”

“if you don’t cum while i finish up here, i’ll never bother you again.”

too much logic, too little brains left in her skull. “you… you’ll wh—?”

“dumb girl,” he muttered and thrusted again. “i know you’re too drunk on my own cock to think, but try to follow along.” rafe slowed to a pace which tortured her, dragging along her walls enough to spark pleasure but not enough to build. “don’t cum, and i’ll leave you alone. got it?”

she nodded desperately, as best she could with him still holding her hair.

around this time, he’d get mouthy. rafe never could keep his thoughts to himself and the problem was tenfold when he was buried inside kiara. if it had come from anyone else’s mouth, his words would be pathetic, begging. but from him? he taunts.

when are you just gonna admit you need this, huh? i come back every time and you’re just as fuckin’ eager. it’s like you know i own you, but you can’t accept it. you know how good you’d look with me again? yknow how well i’d take care of you? be the prettiest fuckin’ girl on figure eight. it’s all yours, but you keep being a brat. good thing i’m always around to keep you in line, huh?

not this time. now, he was dead quiet, and the sick noises coming from where they met spoke for him. forced to accept the loud reality of what they were doing in the very place kiara would have to come back to every day.

without thinking, one of her hands tried to reach down to play with her clit, but he caught her wrist and twisted it around to pin behind her back. she was still stimulated, as every thrust of his cock sent his balls hitting against her clit. “good try,” was all he muttered.

tears welled up in her eyes when she realized she was going to cum anyways. he’d even tried to make it a fair fight by not touching her or saying anything. she was just a doll for him, one that bent over and spread her legs and moaned and begged for more. he didn’t even have to try, and she still tensed up and trembled as a second orgasm washed through her.

her legs nearly gave out entirely as she came, shaking and twitching under her. rafe’s possessive hold on her prevented her from collapsing to the filthy ground, and he smirked. “fuckin’ A. that’s a feeling i’ll never get tired of.”

she would die before ever admitting this, but she felt much of the same.

after he came, rafe lifted kiara so her feet were no longer on the ground, and her torso was entirely on the counter. he was careful in pulling out his cock, making sure none of his seed dripped out of her aching cunt. he quickly pulled her underwear and shorts back up, sealing in the mess they’d just made together.

“guess i’ll see you tonight, huh?”

[gottalovetumbler]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 6

𝓓𝓪𝔂 7

ⁿⁱᵏᵗᵒ/ᵏᵒⁿⁱᵍ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Info: Fem!Reader, cussing, description of cut skin, more cussing. Long chapter so tall better enjoy.

——— 🚔 🏃‍♀️———

It’s hard to ignore one person when they try to talk to you but three? Three attractive people with nice (not understandable) accents trying to get a reaction out of you? That’s fucking impossible.

‘ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕠 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕤 𝕙𝕞𝕞? 𝕎𝕙𝕠’𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥? 𝕀𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕞𝕖?’

‘𝕆𝕗 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕥. ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕀 𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕖𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣.’ Valeria says with a smirk.

‘𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕦-‘

‘𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝔸𝕝𝕖, 𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠𝕠.’

A look of shocked hurt crosses his face as, Alejandro, turns back to face you.

‘𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕀’𝕞 𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕄𝕚𝕛𝕒? 𝕀’𝕞 𝕒𝕥-𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥?’

‘𝕆𝕙 𝕀 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕠-‘

‘As funny as it's tae watch her panic over yer accents th' poor birds heart rate is almos’ tae 200bpm. Any quicker 'n' we're gonna git scolded by th' nurses again. Speaking of, probably gettin’ hungry huh? I’ll go en grab ye some food.’ You shoot Gaz a confused look as Soap stands and stares at you expectantly.

‘He’s gonn’ go grab you some food luv. Any preferences?’

‘Ah no I’m good with whatever.’ You answer with a small smile. ‘Can you please turn off the lights though, they’re starting to hurt my eyes.’ Soap flips the switch before heading out, followed closely by Rudy and Ale.

A couple quiet minutes pass till Gaz stands with a grunt.

‘I’m gonna go an update Captan’ Price on everything and you,’ He points to Valeria, ‘are coming with me. Can’t trust you won’t do anything if I leave you alone.’

She grumbles under her breath as she stands to join him.

‘Need anything while we’re gone luv?’

‘No I’m okay, I’ll see you in a bit.’

‘Okay, we’ll be back soon, push the nurses button if you have any issues.’ And with that they head out, leaving you in silence.

You sit there picking at your nails, the Mexicans are fun to talk to but the lights are starting to hurt your eye’s. It’s kinda nice being able to talk to someone other than Gaz and Chase. They’re fun to watch as they banter and try to help you understand what they’re saying. Though they won’t give you any hints to what the nicknames they call you mean.

The headache starts to make your ears ring and eyes sting. (I’m a fucking rapper now) You try laying down to sleep off the pain but after a few minutes you give up. Irritation grows in your veins as sleep tries to pull you under but the headache keeps you gasping for air.

If you can just get to your own bed then you’ll be okay. You keep a small ac unit in your room with a cooling pillow. If you can just get there then maybe you can sleep well. Your brains muddled and desperate to find solutions so you just follow the thoughts it spews out.

Carefully stepping on the ground, you’re luckily not hooked up to anything but the heart rate monitor. It’ll probably make a sound if you just take it off so you unplug it instead.

Slow steps take you to the bag in the corner holding a fresh change of clothes. They were meant to be worn in 2 days, when you actually get discharged, but you’re not walking out of here in a gown so they’re getting worn now.

Once you pull the soft pants and large tee-shirt on you lock eyes with your reflection in the mirror. Fuck, you forgot just how fucked up your face looks.

The bandage takes up the center of your face but it doesn’t fully cover the brushing your nose suffered. Spots of dark blue and purple creep out from under the skin colored bandage. Small cuts decorate the rest of the uncovered skin. Some of the deeper ones have tiny bandages but most are just little scabs littering your cheeks and forehead.

Exiting the bathroom you look around for something to cover your face with. It won’t be long till someone gets back and you gotta get gone. You’re about to give up, just lay back down and suffer with your headache when you spot a box on the corner of the counters. Light blue medical masks.

You snap one on as you slip through the door, signs helpfully tell you which way the roof and cafeteria are so you go the opposite direction. Luckily that’s also towards the exit.

Staff don’t give you a second thought as you slip past them through the halls with your head tilted down. The elevator dings as it arrives on your floor, a couple stepping off as you step on. The ride from the top floor to the bottom is long and slow.

The elevator stops on floor 2 and the doors ding open as two men step on, one carrying a bouquet of lillies. You shift into the front left corner and they stand towards the back right. As the elevator starts moving you glance towards the doors reflection of the men and freeze.

You recognize the one holding the flowers, Konig, Rudy had mentioned off handedly. The one with the ripped shirt, standing right behind you with the same terrifying mask on. Honestly it’s surprising they even let him in with it on. If you thought Konig was scary though, the man standing next to him doesn’t even have a word to describe the way he looks.

A mask covering everything except his eyes, like Konig, but his mask is skin tight. Outlining his nose and ears. You look towards his eyes in the reflections again and startle as you lock eye contact with him. His shrink into slivers as yours widen.

As soon as the door dings open you step out and of course, right into a broad chest.

‘Oh I’m so sorry miss, are you ok?’ You assure the man as you speed walk off, not looking back. The headache is still pounding as you rush through the hospital doors and out into the air. The cooling breeze helps cool your head and calm the pounding a bit. You head towards one of the corners cause by the door jutting out and just soak up the air.

Your eyes startle open as you heard loud thud leave the hospital. Glancing around the corner you’re hidden behind and see Konig and the mystery man standing there. You watch their heads as they slowly and methodically scan the area before standing back behind the corner.

Please just give. Please. Please. Please. Just go back and give those flowers to whoever you guys are visiting. Why did they even follow you out? Did you do something wrong? Were they gonna yell at you? Did you accidentally fuck up their flowers?

Feet shuffle closer and you hold your breath. The “fresh” air now suffocates you as it seems to grow warmer, causing your headache to flare again. You squeeze your eyes closed to try and alleviate some pain. The shuffling eventually stops and after a few beats you crack your eyes open, screaming at what you see.

The unnamed masked man is standing 6 inches away from you. You jerk your head back in shock and nearly knock yourself on the brick wall behind you but something soft protects your head. You look to your right and see Konig himself standing there, his hand being the thing that protected you from a much worse headache.

‘ᘺᕼᘿᖇᘿ ᕲᓰᕲ ᖻᓍᑘ ᖶᕼᓰᘉᖽ ᖻᓍᑘ ᘺᘿᖇᘿ ᘜᓍᓰᘉᘜ SᓍᒪᘉᓰSᕼᖽᓍ? ᕲᓰᕲ ᖻᓍᑘ ᖇᘿᗩᒪᒪᖻ ᖶᕼᓰᘉᖽ ᖻᓍᑘ ᑢᓍᑘᒪᕲ Sᒪᓰᕵ ᗷᖻ ᑘS?’ Ok either you’re going fucking crazy or he is just making random noises.

‘ጎ ፕዘጎክጕ ቿረቻርዘቿክ ዘልነ ል ዘልዪዕ ፕጎጠቿ ሁክዕቿዪነፕልክዕጎክኗ የቿዐየረቿ ክጎጕ. ረቿፕ’ነ ኗቿፕ ዘቿዪ ጌልርጕ ሁየ ፕዐ ዘቿዪ ዪዐዐጠ ጌቿቻዐዪቿ ነዘቿ ጎክጋሁዪቿነ ዘቿዪነቿረቻ ጠዐዪቿ.’

They share a look before the new one takes your wrist gently and tugs. You shoot him a a fearful look and stand firm, your other hand rubbing your forehead.

‘ᑢᓍᘻᘿ ᓍᘉ SᓍᒪᘉᓰSᕼᖽᓍ, ᒪᘿᖶ’S ᘜᘿᖶ ᖻᓍᑘ ᑘᕵ ᖶᓍ ᗷᘿᕲ ᕼᑘᕼ?’

‘I can- I can’t understand you. Im sorry.’

You mutter as you continue to rub your forehead, closing your eyes again.

Konig clears his throat and grabs your other wrist, pulling your hand off your reddening forehead.

‘ሠቿ’ዪቿ ጋሁነፕ ኗዐጎክኗ ፕዐ н︎є︎ℓρ yσυ в︎α︎¢к︎ т︎σ в︎є︎∂︎ ልክዕ ኗቿፕ ሃዐሁ ነዐጠቿ м︎є︎∂︎ι¢ιηє︎. ዐጕልሃ?’

Oh back to bed? Okay. You nod your head and slowly follow the men. You blink and find yourself tucked back in bed as a nurse hooks back up the monitor. They let you stay in your clothing, pajamas, and with short scolding left you alone. Well as alone as you can be with six other people in the room.

‘ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕠 ℕ𝕖𝕟𝕒, 𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕦𝕡. 𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕦𝕟 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟.’ Rudy winks as he places the tray of food infront of you.

‘I wasn’t trying to run. Just wanted to go home and lay in my cold dark room.’ Your muttering is barely understandable as you shovel jello in like there’s no tomorrow.

‘Ok luv, we believe you.’ Gaz smiles as he hands you a second cup of water.

You eat in silence till the door creaks open and the unnamed masked man walks in holding something. He places a light blue vase filled with the white lillies from earlier on your bedside table.

‘Oh thank you. I didn’t realize they were for me.’ You thank the new man, honestly flattered that the masked giants got you flowers. ‘I’ve never gotten flowers before,’ you say with a blush. ‘They’re gorgeous.’

‘ᖶᕼᗩᖶ’ᒪᒪ ᑢᕼᗩᘉᘜᘿ SᓍᒪᘉᓰSᕼᖽᓍ, ᖶᕼᗩᖶ’ᒪᒪ ᑢᕼᗩᘉᘜᘿ….’

——— 🚔 🏃‍♀️———

Tis all! Hope y’all enjoyed!!

[hollowed-theory-hall]

my personal pet peeves in HP is whole second book, and medicine. especially medicine

starting with the sewers that Salazar invented about half a millennium before the Muggles and beyond. but these things have almost no effect on the overall effect, but hospitals do. the school infirmary and St. Mungus. it feels like jkr came up with Saint Mongoose only for book 5, because before when students suffered serious injuries (Basilisk and cat hair for polyjuice, I mean you) they were treated at school. the students literally waited half a year for the mandrakes to ripen! but for some reason the teachers are transferred to Mungos (McGonagall did not stay at the school after 4 spells).

either these are plot holes or I don't understand something

Like with many things in HP, you can read it as a plot hole, or you can read it as Dumbledore's manipulations at it again (which is what I always do).

If we're talking specifically about year 2, we know Dumbledore knows what the Chamber is and what the monster is. He was a professor the first time around 50 years ago when Myrtle died. He knew it was Tom back then so it's not that he has no clue.

I think he doesn't know for certain who Tom is possessing at first or how, and he lets it play out to both:

Learn more about Voldy

Test & teach Harry

Additionally, even if petrification isn't serious enough to be sent to St Mongos (playing devil's advocate a little), I refuse to believe mandrake leaves can't be imported year-round. I mean, they are a common enough potion ingredient and are used in sleeping potions and healing potions. So there must be a supplier for potioners from where they buy the specific parts of the mandrake they need.

So, I think there was a wee bit of a coverup going on so Harry could be the one to figure it out and face Voldemort. Like in first year:

“No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could. ...” “Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron proudly.

(PS)

“You see what you expect to see, Severus,” said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. “Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.” Dumbledore turned a page, and said, without looking up, “Keep an eye on Quirrell, won’t you?”

(DH)

Dumbledore is testing Harry in his first 3 years. The first time Dumbledore isn't fully in on what's going on at Hogwarts and isn't aware of all of it is 4th year (and even then I'm pretty certain he knew Moody was an imposter, but I digress).

In general, I think, 2nd year is just another example of Dumbledore endangering students and sacrificing their education (by hiring Lockhart) to teach Harry a lesson and test if Harry is truly a Horcrux, which he suspected before:

“Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy...”

(PS) - when talking to McGonagall about Harry's lightning scar.

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.” “You’ve told me this before, Professor,” said Harry bluntly. He did not care about being rude. He did not care about anything very much anymore. “Yes,” said Dumbledore apologetically. “Yes, but you see — it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion.”

(OotP)

But second-year proved it to him:

“You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly, “because Lord Voldemort — who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure. . . .”

(CoS)

It allowed him to test his Horcruxes theory (the diary) and also test Harry. It accomplished a lot of things Dumbledore needed anyway, so he probably thanked Lucius in his head as he let it all play out.

I mean, we see how little concern Dumbledore shows over Katie and Ron who got hurt by Draco trying to kill him:

“You gave me your word, Severus. And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?” Snape looked angry, mutinous. Dumbledore sighed.

(DH) - this is all Dumbledore really says about Draco endangering students.

“You have had a busy time while I have been away,” Dumbledore said. “I believe you witnessed Katie’s accident.” “Yes, sir. How is she?” “Still very unwell, although she was relatively lucky. She appears to have brushed the necklace with the smallest possible amount of skin: There was a tiny hole in her glove. Had she put it on, had she even held it in her ungloved hand, she would have died, perhaps instantly.

(HBP) - even when talking to Harry he is incredibly cold about it.

And in book 2, the board of governors did get involved and removed Dumbledore from the school because they, quite reasonably, were concerned he wasn't dealing with the danger seriously. Like, I know it was Lucius Malfoy who engineered it and he's not supposed to be in the right, but he kinda accidentally was in this case. Dumbledore probably hid a lot of information from the board and was weird about the whole deal, I mean, Lucius can bribe to his heart's content but I don't think the board would remove Dumbledore so readily unless Dumbledore's behavior supported what Lucius was saying in some capacity.

We know Dumbledore is incredibly cold and calculated and we know it's not out of character for Dumbledore to endanger students if it advances his goals and doesn't hurt anyone too much by his standards. What's a few petrifications if it means he can be sure he can kill Voldemort and learn more about his connection to Harry?

(Regarding Hermione and the Polyjuice in year 2 is even easier. Because I don't believe Hermione told her parents and Hogwarts wouldn't tell muggles about what's going on at school, so it would be quite easy to hush down for the sake of the grander plan. Also, it protects her, Harry, and Ron since what they did is kinda illegal, so Dumbledore not sending Hermione to St Mongos protects them from punishment, which works well for them and him in this case)

[sherrysgirl]

drabble?? spencer checking up on sick!medialiaison!reader

cw : reader is sick (cold, flu, anything like that), reader is lowkey addicted to their phone, this is a self indulgent fic for anyone who’s sick rn because apparently ‘tis the damn season

word count : 564

note : i haven’t written a thing in nearly four years and even then my writing was mediocre at best. so, this will absolutely suck but please bear with me. this is just a silly little drabble i wrote cause i was bored. it’s also super boring and there’s absolutely nothing happening because i was too lazy to make it longer. baby steps

the constant loud knocking on your door had woken you up from your supposed nap, that according to the clock, had lasted a whole six hours. you sighed at having wasted a good chunk of your day.

turning around in your bed, you contemplated on opening the door. maybe whoever was standing there would give it up in a minute or two? you were way too sick to leave the comfort of your own bedroom and see anyone right now. unfortunately for you, the person on the other side of the door seemed to be testing your limits as their knocking kept getting louder and louder until you just couldn’t take it anymore.

with a groan you got out of your comfortable bed, left your bedroom and made your way to the door. you took a second to check how you looked in the mirror. tired. exhausted. sick. but it’s fine.

you opened the door to no one other than your colleague and friend spencer reid.

despite the fact that he’d been waiting for you to open the door for him for the past three and a half minutes, he still offered you that typical smile of his that always seemed to make you melt.

ever since you started working as a media liaison for the bau after jj left, you’ve had a soft spot for him. he might’ve been a bit hostile towards you the first couple of days after you were introduced to the team but you had learned about jj and how she was practically forced to leave the job. it hurt you that the team wasn’t entirely accepting of you but you had understood where they came from.

despite the slight hostility from the team at the beginning, you were able to grow close to them and by the time jj got back everyone had been attached to you as well. thankfully, jj had decided to come back as a profiler which meant you were able to keep your job and everyone was happy about how things had turned out.

“did i wake you up? you had me worried for a second. i was about to call morgan to kick your door”, he said as you gestured him to come in.

“why would you worry?”, you stifled a yawn, “didn’t hotch tell you i took the day off since if you couldn’t tell i’m very sick.”

“yes, he did. but i texted you to ask how you were doing and you never answered. which is unusual since you know, you’re always on that phone.”

you pretended to look offended, “wow that’s an insane thing to say. i was taking a nap!”

“a six hour nap?”, the man raises his eyebrows.

“i’m sick give me a break.”, you replied, “is that soup you’ve got here?”

“surprise!”, he lifted the bag up like you haven’t seen him hold it for the past three minutes then proceeded to put it on your kitchen counter.

“thanks, spencer. i didn’t think you’d drop by because of your whole germ thing.”, you teased, “which i completely get by the way. i’m just surprised.”

“well, you’re not contagious anymore. plus, i’ve got my hand sanitizer on me right now.”, spencer remarked.

you playfully roll your eyes at him as you start heating up your soup.

“i mean it.”, you give him a smile, “thanks.”

“anything for you.”

this sucks, don’t even talk to me i’m sick to my stomach. i might not be a good writer but at least i know abt being full of love and funny guys pls pls ❤️

[holomoto]

i did NOT but i just spent like two hours thinking about it. thanks @ anon for the suggestions because i do think you’re mostly right!!

unfortunately i am neither enough of a lewologist or nicologist to be confident on these. HOWEVER these were some things i was thinking.

#1 - magical teenage wishpregnancy babyyyy. idk what her first name is but i do think her middle name could be senna! i think any child being named ayrton hamilton rosberg or senna hamilton rosberg is just a bit too much lol, what a set of expectations (yes they’re kiddos but they have plans to be huge so i think they are factoring this in), so they probably go for the middle name. she might end up going by her middle name anyways if/when she’s like a professional rock climber or free diver or whatever just because it would amuse me. i’m also partial to irene (or spelling variants like airene/eirene) might be cute too - it sounds like ayrton and its got a greek origin (greece trip you will always be famous)

#2 - silver war wishbaby. maybe aina? Nico seems to like names with ai in them based on his kids lol. plus it’s finnish which is kind of sweet! part of me also thinks that elaine/elaina would be funny because not him naming the silver war wish baby after noted senna rival alain prost. i COULD also see something a little fancier like charlotte or léa or something but they are not quite as strong contenders to me.

#3 - and teammate wishbaby. nt lewis names this kid so i agree her name is a little #blessed HOWEVER i think it is both new agey and also kind of totally normal. like he wouldn’t be doing letters or r/tragedeigh nonsense i think, and something like nevaeh feels a little too mormon to me. maybe Rise? (he does use still i rise as a hashtag a lot though and i think it would be a little weird/a bit unfair to have one baby’s name be part of it when you have two other kids. but maybe i’m the one being weird.) but idk. honestly this is the hardest one because these are NOT the kind of baby names i gravitate towards buuuut i DO think she has a name (or a double name, like blue ivy) that is like. iconic enough to stand as a mononym. if it’s a double name one of them is probably like rose or something while the other is a bit out there.

#4 - WINKBABYYYY. ALSO difficult because you best believe nico and lewis are having a four day discussion on what to name this new baby as a way of avoiding talking about the fact that they got ANOTHER wishbaby and also that this is the first time they’ve genuinely talked longer than a couple sentences. this is the first time they’ve had to name a kid together since wishbaby#1. i think they definitely agree to avoid motorsports related names for him but i’m stuck on what they would agree on. i keep thinking pax/paxton as a joke since he’s the herald of the end of their divorce era but it feels a bit off/too american? unsure.

suggestions appreciated though i am VERY bad at committing to names.

Suddenly deeply curious about the names of the brocedes wishbaby army. I feel like they wouldn’t ‘match’ each other at all because they were born in such different parts of their father’s lives. One of them (probably the first) is absolutely a Senna reference, at least one of them is named after french royalty, if Lewis gets to the birth certificate first the latest one is named something celebrityesque like Ocean/Psalm/Eternity

@holomoto TELL ME U HAVE A TREATISE READY TO GO ON THIS

[metamatar]

it took me ninety minutes in person to open a bank account its totally easy to do business here

[butterflieswhisper]

hiiii ^^ beastlife fishie analysis. spoilers ahead. etc etc

okay so. the main point of this is simple. I don't think the salmon head cursed c!fishie. Explaining that is the harder part I think. also i'm going to refer to the salmon head thing in e5 as "the incident" from here on out because frankly i think it's funny

Let's start with the incident. The big day. etc. What happened? Why did it happen? Obligatory third questioning statement? Well. She was gifted the salmon head for her birthday by kiwi(or like. someone in the kiwibird system. -bird system. the birds). Immediately upon receiving it she relives parts of season one and fishie herself doesn't really acknowledge it. The other players definitely notice but im not caught up enough in any other pov yet to like have thoughts on that I'll come back to that point someday. Fishie seems shaken, sure, but she moves on so quickly, especially considering what happened just there. 37 seconds of standing frozen, unresponsive. she recovers in 5 seconds. And seeing how she reacts later on to realizing the memory situation--if she was aware that happened, she would probably be concerned by it. She puts it on for a brief second at the end of the party and takes it off immediately. She's otherwise normal -- well. as normal as she is otherwise up to that point. Because that is also how she acts with pretty much any salmon head, even just kiwi herself.

I raise: Episode one, about 8:20 in. The slow zoom on kiwi as the static overtakes every other noise. This is the *exact* same behavior displayed when fishie receives the salmon head, albeit without actual concrete old video footage style flashbacks. In episode two (28:55ish) the same thing happens when she looks at the salmon head in moch's house, but this time there is technically a flashback -- kiwis grave. Fishie moves on immediately and doesn't acknowledge her behavior at all, and, seeing as it is fishie, im inclined to believe that means she does not know she is doing it. Fishie (when alone) will discuss all of her problems in immense, and usually misguided detail (bestie i promise kiwi doesn't hate you???) to the audience and/or herself. I mean she's not alone in episode one, and it is technically presession, and i guess getting struck by lightning is a decent distraction from your problems, but in episode two? She is completely alone. There is nobody with her. She went looking for moch and moch is not there. She still doesn't acknowledge the fiveish seconds she is completely frozen. This happens again and again with kiwi and salmon heads.

And then that leads you to e5. The incident. She's. well. she's doing worse. 0:50. "This will distract me if i leave it up." This is the first mention from fishie herself about how fucking weird she's being, and even then she doesn't seem concerned. I think she does not realize she's being so so incredibly weird about it. If the static and freezing is what's referred to as "distraction" then keeping it in her inventory makes it worse actually so it wouldn't really make sense unless the way it is distracting her is NOT the. well. whatever the fuck is wrong with her (affectionate). After she puts the head on there's the static all the time but for a short brief amount of time she's like significantly more normal and i don't really know if that means anything i just think it's really funny.

And then we all know what goes on during the incident i'm not analyzing this video frame by frame. um. i could. but i am not going to right now. And then she has the conversation on the table with kiwi where she like is normal for 5 minutes. Like genuinely the most. i guess stable? fishie's thought process is is like in the moments directly after the incident. She is immediately understanding with the antikiwi situation, they come to an agreement that they're like. okay now. "thank you for everything and im so sorry i couldnt do more" / "it was short, but it was nice" "i knew what i was getting into when i married you" etc etc and then they kind of rush it at the end because people won't stop dying. But then fishie is fishie and takes it in the complete opposite extreme (from. um. whatever was wrong up until now. to "oh kiwibird must secretly hate me because" and then there's no real good reason she's just like that) and it's also an issue. And i think the season two memory thing is also a part of that but this is so long already and so i'm not going to get into it rn. So bringing all of this back to my original point: the salmon head was not the cause of the curse(?) because she's been so weird all the time forever and the salmon head thing was just like. an effect. of whatever went Wrong(tm) in the season transition. like the head was a vessel to Be Worse about it but i feel like it would have worked with any salmon head she got her hands on and that it happened to be kiwico was a coincidence and also that the head wasn't cursed at all there's just something deeply wrong with fishie s3 in general and uh yeah 👍

I'm so sorry this is so disjointed i had a thesis statement and everything. alas

[thedrotter]

(cw for a gun, mild blood and suicide in the last drawing.)

Day 1-5 of drawing Re:Kinder daily for a whole month! I'll be doing that all month. ☺️

I did not draw Re:Kinder enough (said both sarcastically and genuinely, because while I know the statement is ridiculous I also do believe it www), so I chose to challenge myself. I will post these every 5 days to not clog the tag too much.

[ancha-aus]

omg but that sounds so funny?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

dust helps him calm down.

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

but he is just terrified. of everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phantom had to deal with disappointment so often.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i love all these sillies <3

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

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

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

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

     The town was bustling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

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

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

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

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

   Oh…

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

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

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

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

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

   The Mage Trials. 

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

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

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

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

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

.

   Finally. 

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

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

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

   That didn’t matter, though. 

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

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

   “Next!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Another easy one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “Name?”

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

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

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

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

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

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

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

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Mm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   He needed this. He needed this. 

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

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

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

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

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

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

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

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   He knew he could manage. 

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

   Good.

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

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

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

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

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

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

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

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Up.

   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.” 

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

At The Feet Of The Sun

book 2 in a slow paced high fantasy duology*

the right hand of the emperor (who is off searching for an heir) struggles with what to do after passing on his responsibilities and also discovering various pieces of information that are mindblowing to him, personally,

after adventure is thrust upon him, he travels to find His Radiancy and they go on some otherworldly adventures while growing closer and figuring out the nature of their friendship

(*there’s extra novellas & i think another book coming? duology adjacent, currently,)

[sysig]

Spoiling for a fight, spoiled for choice (Patreon)

[volivolition]

suggestion do you have... any wants? like obviously you do but like? suggestion my guy my ourple boy. both the easiest and hardest to write. you need a skill to say something to move conversation along but it doesn't fit any skill in particular? about 80% of the time you can have suggestion say it and it will make sense. but like actually characterizing him... how do i define you dude... what makes your character tick... urgh. i dont get you yet. im trying to understand but you are difficult.