#not mad at them obviously just. around them

[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. 

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Part two of this Worst!Logan request

A/N: Thank you for all the love on part 1; I hope you enjoy part 2 just as much! I have a lot of request that I am currently working on but request are still open for both Logan and Bucky!

Where we left off:

Logan was left standing in his room with wide eyes. Wade was trying to convince you that he loves you…why would you need the convincing? Obviously Logan knew that he needed convincing, like look at him? Hundreds of years older than you, from a whole different universe than you, full of a dark past and trauma…but you loved him too? Or at least you did before he threw a hissy fit tonight. 

FUCK! Logan yelled out when he realized that he had to go fix this now! 

*********************************************************************** 

Logan had to fix his stupidness. After the realization hit him like a truck he rushed out of the apartment with no shoes on. You only lived down the hall, something Logan was always thankful for, and he was even more thankful for it tonight. He reached your door in seconds and knocked on your front door with such force that he was slightly afraid that he might’ve broken the door. I’ll fix it later. He thought to himself as he tried to catch his breath and fix his hair before you opened the door. 

You opened the door far too quickly for his liking, yet way too slow. He was already in his head trying to convince himself that it was probably better for you to be mad at him, for you to not want him around anymore. That’d keep you safe…it would keep him safe. Feelings can be dangerous, relationships and getting close to someone can be dangerous. But he would die if he didn’t have you in his life anymore, he’s gotten greedy, selfish, he’s gotten comfortable for the first time in a long time and he isn’t ready to lose that yet. He won’t lose you, not when he knows you love him back. 

He was in the middle of fixing his hair when you opened the door, embarrassment flooded his body and he quickly ripped his hand away from his hair. “Logan?” You croaked out weakly, your voice thick with tears. His heart breaks in a way it never has before when he looks you in the eyes and sees the redness, the puffiness, the tears falling freely. “Oh. Oh darlin I am such a fool.” His shoulders fell and his own voice thickens with tears. The shame he felt when you started to reassure him made him want to dig his own claws into himself, he shook his head interrupting you and started going into a rant before he even realized what he was doing. 

“I am a fool! I was so wrapped in my own head that I convinced myself that for some fucking reason you were already taken and I didn’t want to get in between you and Wade-” You cut him off quickly, “Wade!?!” Logan winced when you exclaimed his roommates name, “I know okay! I know how ridiculous I’ve been, I was so blinded by you being close to Wade and all of the whispers and the sharing of clothes and the touching that I didn’t even notice the way you would get up early to make my coffee or stay up late when I had to work a closing shift even though you had to be up at 5 in the morning, I didn't notice that you always asked me how I was doing and never took okay or fine as an answer. I didn't even realize that you only cleaned my wounds and allowed Wade's wounds to get infected if he didn't clean them himself! I didn’t allow myself to see how much you cared about me because I still don’t think I deserve that; I don’t deserve tenderness, the soft caresses and whispers…I don’t deserve you darlin I just don’t.” He ended his rant with a whisper, nearly ashamed of himself for feeling this way and for admitting this aloud to someone as caring as you. 

He knows how much you care about him, he knows you won’t judge him or be mad at him for long, but he is so ashamed that he ever doubted you, there’s still a part of him that’s upset with himself for being so mad towards Wade when he thought you were with Wade. Wade deserves someone as kind and loving as you, Logan just wants to be greedy and keep you to himself.  You could tell that Logan was starting to get back into his head, he was starting to get that dazed off look in his eyes, it was like he was in another word when he started overthinking like this. “Logan” You called out to him before slowly touching his arm. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make us some coffee or tea and we can talk about where you’re taking me on our first date.” He looked at you with clear shock on his face, he was fully prepared for you to tell him to fuck off. Your laugh ringed through the air making his heart mend back together again. “Come on you fool” You teased him with a smirk and a quick roll of your eyes, he stumbled over his feet and ended up on your couch quicker than he could notice. 

It was the first time he had actually been in your apartment, and he never wanted to leave. Looking around it looked very you, very lived in, very homey. Your warmth surrounded him, your scent enveloped him, it felt like home. It felt like peace. 

You came back with two mugs and handed him his with that soft smile that he fell in love with. You sat next to him and started listing ideas for what the two of you could do for your first date; “We could go to dinner, we could watch a movie, we could go to a museum, we could–” You ended up sitting your mug on your coffee table in front of the couch at some point during your ramble, Logan wasn’t sure when it happen but he is positive that it did happen because he’ll never forget the feeling of your head on his shoulder as you finally decided where the two of you would go this weekend for your first official date. 

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@squishyfruitloop

@negan-morningstar

@p3ryt0n

@ayamenimthiriel

[utilitycaster]

sort of an offshoot of that post about video game characters but I think I've mentioned before the third person v. first person split in D&D, namely, do you say "I attack it with my scimitar" or "Drizzt attacks with his scimitar". This is a well-known thing in TTRPGs, I'm sure you can find more intelligent discussion about it, but it's come up for me specifically in that a lot of old-school D&D players skew hard towards third person and often they are less interested in actual play, because they see D&D as a narrative tool. There's no self-inserts; they are narrating the exploits of a guy they made. And so the parasocial elements (which are not necessarily bad, it just depends, and that's another post) have no appeal, and even things like accents don't really.

I don't think third person vs. first person necessarily means "not a self insert vs. self insert." I switch between the two and often use first person. But I don't feel like any D&D character I've played is a self-insert. They have aspects of me, sure, because of course they do, I need to be able to play them and try to think like them, but I think in a game where death and failure are really possible and where you must collaborate and where your options are rather limited - because even in D&D, they are limited by the type of game it is - it's actually vital to separate yourself out from your character.

It comes down to something I've said a lot about so many things in fiction (but yeah, this does bleed into real life): are you able to accept a character who is not like you? Are you able to accept a character who might make wildly different choices than you would? Is your capacity to empathize or see a character as a person limited by them specifically hitting some demographic or philosophical targets you have constructed? Can you, even in a low risk, fictional environment, let yourself be different from how you are.

this seems very silly but I think I may have alluded to Justin McElroy talking about not being able to play fat characters in most games, and so he often just plays characters who do not look a thing like him. He often plays as a woman of color. (I don't recall where this came up? I think it might have been on an ancient polygon video or maybe commentary on one of the TAZ seasons? I'd love to find it again). And I think that's actually really great that this was his instinct. I don't want to diminish the importance of RPGs and TTRPGs for self-discovery; obviously it's been a place for many people to explore gender and sexuality, especially, and I do not want to take away the ability for someone to play as a woman in a game before you feel like you can live as a woman publicly in real life (and notably my issues with the BG3 and Inquisition player characters are not ones of gender/sex/race, ie, I think it is personality and background that might need to be more pre-determined). But yeah, if you cannot connect with characters who aren't like you that's a problem, and it does feel a little frustrating that we know that centering a self-insert OC type makes for a worse story and people still want that.

I've always been intrigued by pre-made sheets in TTRPGs where you are limited in some way, not in a dumb "oh my god you can't play a druid bc I'm a weird vindictive dude mad that your nature magic beats my weaponry" way but just as an exploration of having to walk a mile in other people's shoes and to be a person other than one that you created to exist within your comfort zone. Because a lot of people aren't Justin, and do play themselves or as close to it as they can, regardless of what is happening around them, and I think that is a mistake.

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 🩹 [ Patches ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : After the fight he had with Antonius, you were there to patch him up.

Pairing : Telemachus x fem! Reader

Word count : 1.2K Words

Genre : Fluff

Warnings ➵ Telemachus is hurt

a/n : I love this guy sm and omg I can't wait to write more for this silly lil guy T T♡

Also I feel like this isn't m, best work sadly, I just didn't really know how to write this, that's also why it's shorter, but imma defi write a longer one for him again!

Artwork Credits : Gigi on YouTube

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Athena turns around, sensing someone approaching the chambers of the prince, sitting on the railing in her owl form in an instant.

"My prince? I've been so worried! Your mother is so mad at the suitors! And by the gods look at you! What have those monsters done!" Rushing over to the young man, your hands find their way to his cheeks, holding his face softly in your hands. "I-I'm fine! Don't worry! Just some scratches!" He tried to assure you, looking over to Athena, who just gave him one last look before flying away, leaving him to your mercy. "My prince those aren't just scratches! The queen will be even more angry when she sees this!" Telemachus's face was littered with wounds, blood at the corner of his lips, scratches on his face, and a big one on his eyebrow. "Let me patch you up please, I don't want this to get infected." You softly grab his hand as you lead him to his vanity and sit him down, before gathering everything you need to clean his wounds.

Telemachus simply watches you with a rosy blush on his cheeks, would his mother see him right now she'd start preparing a wedding already. She was counting on you to become his fiance, having known you and your parents for years. You were born in the palace to your father, a warrior, he was away with the king for a long time now, probably dead, while your mother was the closest and most confidante maid she had. So you grew up in the palace, learning the ways to serve, and soon became the maid to the prince. He was barely two years older than you; in the last years, he had grown so much that he was now towering over you.

"This looks bad, my prince; how dare they hurt you like that.." You grumble as you wet cloth and softly clean the dried-up blood, holding his chin with your other hand carefully. Telemachus was watching you the whole time while doing so, admiring your scrunched up eyebrow and nose, concentrated eyes, and how your tongue slightly pokes out from the concentration.

"I'm fine don't w-worry! It's just a scratch!" He tries to assure you, but you just scoff at that; of course, he would say that. Wanting to argue back, you couldn't as a knock echoes through the room, straightening your back as the queen walks in. Bowing slightly you greet her respectfully, your own mother closed behind her. "M-Mother!" Her face was stern as she approached her son. "What happened?" Telemachus was obviously nervous to answer her, knowing very well she hates when he gets hurt, on top of the suitors being the cause of this. "They provoked me. I had to fight back!" Penelope looks at him, disappointed, shaking her head slightly. "You shouldn't have my son, look at your face; that will leave a nasty scar. What would your father say." Her hands were softly on his shoulders as her words enraged him. "He would be proud! Proud that I try to protect my house and mother!" Pulling back from her, he turns his back to her frustrated.

The queen lets out a sigh, looking over at you with thankful eyes for being with him right now and patching him up before she turns around and leaves, your mother also giving you one last look.

"My prince I need to finish cleaning your wounds." He's stood with his back to you, looking at the picture on his nightstand, an old picture; you weren't even born when this was made; he was merely an infant in the arms of his mother, the king, his father beside them. "He wouldn't want you to keep hurting. Let me finish, please." Softly, your hand lays on his arm as he shakes his head, frustrated.

Guiding him to sit down on his bed's edge now, you crouch down to sit in front of him on the floor after getting the utensils you need to clean the wounds. Grasping his hands softly to clean the knuckles that were bruised and bloodied from landing a few good punches on Antinous. "Why..? Why can't I be like my dad? He was amazing.. She would've never scolded him for fighting for her.." You noticed tears gathering in his beautiful eyes. "Oh dear, you're her only son; she is worried. You're just as great as your father, and someday you will see that too, my prince.." Tears fall from his eyes as your hand reaches up to carefully wipe the tears away.

You finish cleaning his knuckles before going to clean up everything you had used. Glancing over to Telemachus again to see his face in his hands, form crouched over and small. "Telemachus.. Don't beat yourself up so much.. Please.." Taking a seat beside him, you didn't treat him as your prince and weren't sitting down as his maid but as his childhood friend. You know you were crossing some lines; you were a servant, and you shouldn't stay longer in his chambers, let alone sit beside him on his bed. "You're an amazing person, remember that time we were kids? When I got bullied by some of the royal girls visiting? I wasn't able to defend myself because I am a mere servant; you stood up for me, telling them off, telling them how much more royal my personality was than their ugly ones." He slowly looks up at you, red and puffy eyes looking into your own. "So start thinking better of yourself alright?" Hand moving to rest on his damp cheeks, his face softly nuzzling against your hand, eyes closed.

"Thank you.." The words softly leave his mouth, before opening his eyes again to look at you. "Of course.. come here.." Opening your arms, he eased into your embrace, his own arms around your waist as his head came to rest on your shoulder. You know this was something he needed right now, a soft embrace to assure him everything was fine. "You're fine.." One hand is softly rubbing over his back, while the other one softly pats over his brown hair.

"I am.. Thanks to you." He leaves your embrace now with a smile. "I'll grow stronger for my family and you!" He has a grin on his lips now as he announces he will grow stronger. Looking over to his balcony now, you follow his gaze, gasping softly. "Woah.. An owl.. And such a pretty one at that too.." You smiled; the owl looked pretty, a light brown with a white spot, and the ends of her feathers looked like they shimmer gold in the sun. Telemachus, though, was shocked that Athena would show herself that easily and even speak to him in his head. 'I like that one, court her.' Before flying away, make you run onto the balcony to watch the owl fly away.

Telemachus quickly follows you as he watches Athena fly away, a bright red hue on his face from her words. "Oh my, you're so red! Do you have a fever?" Looking at him worried and before your hand could meet his forehead to check his temperature, he runs away laughing, yelling how his training should start now and he needs to get stronger, making you giggle and follow him, Argos quickly joining you two.

[pixitarot]

bang chan as a bf

🅽🅾🆃🅴: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ

i didn’t expect some of the cards i got tbh. please take this with a grain of salt lol.

pros:

- a hopeless romantic. i think i mentioned this already in my ideal type reading but he is big on just being with that one person for the rest of his life.

- a desire to make all of his person’s wishes come true. yall know that song by big time rush “any kind of guy” i was hearing that in my head lol specifically the lyrics “any kind of guy you want girl, that’s the guy i’ll be, turn myself upside down.” corny ik, but i think he would say cheesy shit like that lol. i literally have not heard that song in a minute. basically he would do anything that his person desires. they want a dog? he’ll get one. they want to take a dance class? he’ll sign them up for one. those are just some examples

- he lovesss to spoil his partner. i honestly think gift giving could be a big love language for him. it makes him feel good seeing his partner enjoy things that he has bought them or things they have bought with his money

- he would defend his partner no matter what. he does not fuck around when it comes to the people he loves, so if someone disrespects his person, he won’t stay quiet

- he’s always keeping his promises! even with his busy schedule, he will make time for his person . i think he could even have this routine where they like go watch a movie every saturday or smth. reminds me of when he would go live every sunday lol. if he wouldn’t be make able to make it, he’ll schedule it for the next day. he will always do something to make up for it

- he’ll always keep the relationship feeling new. yk how the honeymoon phase wears off, he’ll do everything to make things more fun and romantic. he could plan so many cute dates. he would always know the right things to say. he could literally give u butterflies even 5 years of dating him just because of his smooth talk lol

cons:

- chan could be….pretty dominant. now this obviously doesn’t mean he’s gonna go crazy controlling his person. however, he’s a natural leader. he leads in his career, and it melts into his relationships as well. he likes to be the one to make the decisions. he could be stubborn in his ways so he won’t back down. it’s his way or the highway vibes

- chan can be hot headed. it seems like he would try really hard not to fight with his person, but it just never works out. he could be pretty passive aggressive when he gets mad. i’m not gonna lie i feel like he could bicker a lot with his partner.

- remember how i said he loves to spoil his partner? well he could use this to his advantage as well. chan could do/say something to upset them and he’ll spoil them as an “apology.” ik some of yall would find this a pro lol but this can cause resentment overtime. maybe he isn’t good at apologizing, but with communication from both sides, this can change.

- i think chan can be super overprotective. i could say possessive aswell, but im more so getting overprotective. it’s like he has this fear that something could happen to his partner, and this can scare him. it could be something he overthinks about a lot in relationships. it’s almost paternal like. like a father worrying about his daughter. of course, many could see this as a pro, however, it could get to the point where it becomes suffocating because it’s like…are you my father or my boyfriend? i’m seeing him lightly scold his partner for being out late lol. it’s stuff like that.

astrological dice:

leo, cancer, 6th house, 3rd house

romantic and fun, and confirmation on the routine thing with the 6th house. communication is something he’ll need to work on. he could be nurturing to his partner with the cancer. i think he likes to be the one his partner goes to if they’re sad.

i want to emphasize that the cons could easily be changed overtime. if he had a partner that sits down and talks to him about their boundaries, chan would 100% listen and would stop doing whatever makes his person uncomfortable. i honestly don’t think chan is too experienced when it comes to relationships…so it is also a learning experience for him.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Halloween - Oct 31 - @rosekillermicrofic - 646 words - Warnings: none

A/N - sorry this is so late! But I am taking the opportunity to remind any Americans reading this to go vote!!!

Barty

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, dance music audible from outside the house. Barty and Evan parked on the street and crept behind the cars to get to the back entrance. Evan slipped the spare key from under the mat, sliding it into the lock with a barely audible snick as the door opened. Once open, they could hear the light chatter and laughter of their friends coming from the living room. They waited in the dark hallway.

“I’ll go get more drinks,” Regulus said, “Anyone want anything?” People chimed in with their preferred beverages, but Barty ignored that, sneaking into the kitchen to wait for Regulus.

“Oh, I have to pee!” Pandora said, and Evan was stepping into the bathroom, pulling back the shower curtain before Barty even had to direct him.

Barty hid behind the pantry door, which was conveniently made up of horizontal slats that Barty could see through. He could see He waited until Regulus had placed all of the empty glasses onto the counter before leaving his hiding spot silently, He tiptoed behind Regulus as he opened the fridge, reaching to grab something — just as Barty wrapped his arms around him and pressed a plastic knife to Regulus’s throat.

“What the fuck?!” Regulus struggled in his hold, squirming until Barty let him go with a sharp laugh. “Oh, fucking hell, Barty. When did you even get here?”

“I scared you!” Barty chuckled, lifting the mask up to grin at Reg, who was glaring at him. “Aw, c’mon Reg, don’t you like my costume? It’s a classic!”

“Of course Scream is your favorite scary movie,” Regulus scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, and what’s your favorite scary movie, then?” Barty asked, smiling down at his shorter friend.

“It’s not Halloween,” Regulus deadpanned, referring to the opening sequence of Scream. “And we’re not on the phone.”

“What’s your answer, Reg?” Barty goaded.

“Psycho. Obviously.” Regulus had returned to the fridge, pulling out what he needed to make everyone’s drinks.

“Ah, ‘we all go a little mad sometimes,’” Barty quoted, pulling his mask back down. Regulus shook his head at Barty, but he caught a secretive smile on his friend’s face as he headed into the living room to greet his other friends.

Evan

Perhaps it was wrong to wait in the bathroom behind the shower curtain for his sister to walk in, but Evan was doing it anyway. He waited only long enough for her to enter the room and pull the door shut behind her before tearing open the curtain, making her jump and yelp.

“What’s the matter?” Evan said in a voice deeper than his own. ‘“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’”

Pandora stared at him inquisitively for a moment before shaking off the brief scare. “‘No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface! I wanna be in the sequel!’”

“You were supposed to be more scared than that,” Evan groaned, tugging his mask up to reveal his face. Pandora just beamed at him.

“You have to get out now, so I can go pee,” Pandora informed him, and Evan scrambled out of the bathtub and into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind him. He trekked down the hall to the living room, where Barty had already joined the small crowd.

Barty had saved him a seat on the loveseat in front of the fireplace. James scoffed when he saw the two of them together, complete with Ghost Face masks and costumes.

“You two look like a couple of psychos,” Sirius commented, despite his slutty Red Riding Hood costume.

“Movies don’t create psychos. Movies make psychos more creative,” Evan deadpanned. Barty ducked his head to muffle a laugh against Evan’s shoulder through the mask. The cheap fabric was itchy and the plastic had an unappealing smell, but Evan was more content than he’d ever been.

[ancha-aus]

lets go! :D

Nightmare having to mentally go through ever possible job he knows and each position as he tries to figure something out for error because that look in his sockets tells nightmare enough. Error isn't going to give up. and so nightmare knows he needs to deal with this now so he settles on this idea.

And Error is so excited. This is it!! This is his spot! His home! he can make something of himself and for himself here!

I like the detail that because it isn't official yet that that is why error's name isn't wildspread. which does mean they are all trusting the word of a 12 year old when he says he has no home. but they also figure that if a kid says it with such confiction he does it for a reason (and nihgtmare can feel that error is being honest. Yay cheat sheet with emotional empathy)

Error is excited about his birthday. Fris tbecause it means he will finally be officially made royal mage which means he will finally officially be allowed to always be by nightmare's side! He is excited for that when nightmar ejust casually says that he will get his first payment for all the years he already helped the month before his birthday. just so that it is all paid off.

and error just stares ahead of himself because RIGHT! He will get money as well. he never needed anything extra so he is just like trying to think of what to do when it hits him (when nightmare pays for some snacks or something). He can take nightmare on a date! a real date date!

Error knows they are planning a birthday party for him but he wants to take nightmare on an amazing trip and date before that. the week before his birthday. just them. error begs nightmare to take time off and begs the others to help him plan (they all help) and he has this beautiful trip planned within weeks and is so excited.

(of course killer follows them to make sure the two are left alone and are able to enjoy themselves but that is for killer to know and them to not have to worry about)

okay back to nightmare. i like that nightmare willingly took a hit to his image to protect error like this. Error is a minor and so shouldn't have his information spread and nightmare prefers that people think he just didn't pick anyone and the mages be mad at him than people knowing about error and how vulnerable the young teen is.

error may have powerful magic but is still a vulnerable teen after all. So nightmare gets him back safely (fully prepared for the scolding he will receive from ccino for this. he is very aware what it looks like and is anxious about it himself)

but it is so obivously different.

Error feels safe and comfortable near the king. He is abrat but never punished. he is free to practise magic and make spells that are comfortable to him. Ngihtmare enables him a LOT.

it is just so much different and it just gets more and more obvious that they relaly did break the cycle of abuse. (angsty/sad idea. Error teasing nightmare about how nightmare almost didn't take error home. just because he is younger. nightmare shrugging and saying that obviously he didn't want to after what happened with ccino. Which is when nihgtmare tells error that nim pretty much kidnapped ccino and killed his parents. just to get a servant. so yeah. nightmare was anxious about this...)

but yeah! It is just so obviously different with error over before that people even if they gossip it is quickly obvious that this is fine. this is different. the kid is happy.

and the apprentise laws and options! :D I like the idea that that becomes blue's and dream's focus. they go around to make sure everyone is treated nicely and because dream can still feel emotions he is a very good pick to check on the children and if they truly feel safe nad happy.

nightmare knows he can't keep hiding behind the mask all the time. he needs to show himself. and it is terrifying. because he was NEVER enough before. what if the same happens again?

but he still does it. He tells the magic has gone and that they will never use that old magic ever again. that he has been leading in this form for the last how many months.

nightmare is worried but as you said. the country is getting better and healthier. people know things are better now. so nightmare is in a reasonable good standing at the moment.

(and the angry and grumpy royal mage who goes eVERYWHERE wiht the king. it is very cute)

there are always going to be people who connect the dots. who try to imply their king misused his power to hurt the child. it are the same people who ALWAYS said this even when proof was shown this wasn't the case.

they people are made to shut up by disappearing...

My special move is Gut Punch and i know when to use it >:D

but yeah. Error just wants to belong and it is every teens dream to find cool people who threat you as one of their own and dust did this for error. Error latched on and is NEVER LETTING GO.

it helps that dust isn't touchy feely himself and sticks to his own personal bubble. error can just stnad near dust and it is pretty much just the two of them stnading together and hanging out! It works perfect!

thank you :D I loved my little magic system <3

and yeah the idea that error just gets distracted form the easy spells is really fun. it shows that he isn't perfect (and he doens't have to be)

Dust! Dust is always fun. and it is pretty much that. His magic is already ready with the like. storm/hurricane spell. that is how his magic shapes itself. dust doens't need to weave the magic together as it is pre-woven into that shape by nature. which means dust needs a tight control over it or a storm WILL happen.

I like the idea that dust accidentally killed people with his storms before. shows that he knows how dangerous it is for good reasons and so he keeps it tightly under lock and key to make sure it doesn't happen again. (it also works well wiht the horses because animals can often sense storms so for the horses to just trust dust and listen to him builds his confidence even more. it shows he is in control and is fine. it helps. dust may help feel the horses feel safe but the horses make sure dust feels safe about himself.)

But i love the idea that Dust's soul is pretty much a spell as you said. it being so interwoven and part of him that dust doens't even notice (maybe he used to have a very weak soul and his parents did a desperate attempt to save him. Using weather magic to help Dust feel connected to something always there. The sun could power him. the rain would. even the wind itself. Just give him a connection to something... Or the angst route. Some mage (his dad) tried to make weapons to impress Nim. To be allowed into her inner circle. So he figured he could make weapons to impress her. The mage was successful and made Dust and his brother into weapons. Spells in their very being. (it backfired when Dust lost control and killed everyone in the tower (including his own little brother) and he was hunted out of town. because the mage always helped people how DARE he hurt this man?!)

Just. Dust's soul not just being a soul but having a spell woven into and around it to strengthen it. And I like the ide aof it being the weather (storms specifically) becuase the weather is always around and a great way to power/strengthen the weak soul. and because Nim makes sure it is always sunny and nice weather having Dust be connected to storms would make him easy to control and manage. because there are no natural storms to strengthen him even more. There is some wind and rain which does the same but there are limits. (it is why dust was caught and needed four magic inhabitors. because as soon as the normal weather returned dust got a giant power boost)

Geno finally sees the spell that this magic cna do and he is so excited for a moment! then he feels the magic. Hurt. hurt. hurt. hurt. hurt. leave him alone. hurt. leave. hurt.

and geno realises how badly he messed up. it is why he backs off. if something as intent and feeling focussed tells you you hurt them it is not a message you easily forget (and exactly. error felt the magic and feelings too and went to figure out what the fuck went wrong. error has NEVER seen dust lose his control over his storm.)

but dust just isn't used to people feeling his magic because it is already in spell shape and woven so the intent is hidden within the spell.

fresh running over to his little brother only for the parasite to get hurt (maybe because it is woven into a storm the parasite gets like... shocked? like struck by lightning? but over and over and voer again)

so the parasite takes control and MAKES fresh back up

all while fresh is ready to deal with the pain to hold his brother. (is this what it felt like for error? is this what error had to deal with each time fresh didn't think and hugged him without wanring him?)

Like. Fresh will CRAWL to Error if he has to and hug him as his insides feel like they are set on fire. He needs to hold his little brother. He eneds to apologise but that THING in him isn't letting him and fResh can already see the sad resignment on Error's face nad no no no no! Not again! please let him get to him!

Error meanwhile sees it as just more proof. See? Fresh doesn't even want to be NEAR him. It is good that he left and found his own spot.

(also going back real quick to Dust's soul pretty much BEING a spell is so delicious. because the parasite would for the first time look at another living creature and NOT see food. only for the very creature to hurt its existance because of the nature of the spell that is interwoven with Dust's soul. Like that shit is TASTY!)

geno figures out the issue and makes sure to clear things up. But being very careful about it. Geno and Dust may only JUST be on friendlier/neutral terms after Geno's last mess up. So Geno knows he needs to be very careful because Geno already made Dust feel terrible about himself before and Geno is trying so hard to not mess this up again but also he wants to help both his brothers so badly. it is a careful balance he needs to achieve here.

Just. Dust having THE magic swag and rizz because it is such a part of him so he ends up with a new little brother. a boyfriend. and a reasonable good relationship wiht a parasite of magic. (dust wonders how he got to this point)

Nightmare is struggling and trying to get this situation under control only to learn that Error is a tiny menace. and then nightmare is small and error just looks at nightmare and thinks ''this is the greatest and best upgrade ever :3' because he is got a new bestie and sure Error loves staring at him and hearing him talk and leaning close and even holding nightmare's hand once ina while but that is normal friend behaviour right!!

right?

It is important to me that ccino just keeps treating error like a child. because he is a child. Error knows ccino is important and very high in the ranks somehow and seems to be the kings brother.

but then ccino just treats him normally and asks for what he likes and what his hobbies are and what he likes about them.

and Error keeps expecting to end up. giving a wrong answer but nothing seems wrong? Error will say he like knitting. ready for whining that he shuldn't focus on unimprotant stuff.

and all ccino does is admit he knows very little of it himself and ask error to explain more about it. about what he likes about it and what to pay attention to.

And it feels so weird for Error?! Error is used to adults not liking ANYTHING he does and this guy just listens?!

eventually error jsut demands to know WHY ccino is doing this. why he is treating him like a child instead of the future royal mage!

ccino: ... because you are a child. Error: *sputters* I will be royal mage! ccino: I know. But for now you are a kid... and well... maybe i am weird... but i think a kid should be allowed to be a kid. which means playing and having fun. Learning is important of course. same is preparing for the future. but that shouldn't take away from things you want to do now.

Error isn't sure why but he does feel a bit more relaxed after that. and allows himself to be more silly. lets himself use magic to do silly and weird tricks. just to amuse himself. he learns to animate a little doll. just to make it do little dances. (It also helps that dust seems to think it is the coolest thing. that the king tells him that is is such impressive magic. that ccino smiles when he sees it.)

Just. Maybe at first the kngihts and king nightmare are worried about letting error wander alone for his own and eveyrones safety (they do also care about error)

but ccino's first priority is making sure that error is actually okay. that not another child is forced to be here. and it helps him heal to see error love to be here. that error feels safe and comfortable.

(okay. there. the better nad improved version!)

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.” 

[dizzybevvie]

I think one of the biggest issues I have is just assuming that Im a back up friend to everyone

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[batcavescolony]

Gotta love Tommy Shepherd, he's got like four sets of parental figures that could care about him but he either feels awkward around them or they just apparently forgot he exists. Like the only semi ok adult in his life is Master Pandemonium, who he's taking care of but he at least interacts with him.

[moonscape]

i don't really like confessions blogs because i feel like they just fuel the fire for fandom discourse but ngl i agree with pretty much everything that's been posted on the is*t one so far so i'm okay with it for now lol 👍

[rocksanddeadflowers]

Megamind and Roxanne dynamic but it's Raphaella and Lyfrassir. Raphaella la Cognizi, the dumb-smart mad scientist, and Lyfrassir Edda, the cute reporter/journalist she's always kidnapping. Obviously they fall in love bonus points for any of the following: Marius as Minion, if you can figure out how Ivy would fit into the dynamic because this feels so so so wrong without her she's my wife I love her (maybe Bernard somehow? or just a new character placement period), and BONUS bonus points for a polycule between the four of them.

[christnarr]

marriage counselors HATE THEM!

[sysig]

Let me chew you out a little, since we have a couple minutes (Patreon)

[Panel 1] Prismo: *mumble* *mumble*

[Panel 2] Prismo: *mumble*

[Panel 3] Simon: Hmph. “Just because it’s in your head-”

[Panel 4] Simon: “-Doesn’t mean it’s yours,” huh?

[Panel 5] Simon: Give me all the responsibility with none of the privileges?

[Panel 6] Simon: And then you get mad at me for trying to pick up your slack? Prismo: Hey...

[Panel 7] Simon: Clearly you already expect that much from me!

[Panel 8] Prismo: Hey, hey! I did the best with what I had! I didn’t expect any of this!

[Panel 9] Simon: And yet you didn’t even consider telling me, so we could’ve avoided this?

[Panel 10] Prismo: It’s not like I could’ve just- taken it out! I was locked out!

[Panel 11] Simon: You could’ve done something!

[Panel 12] Simon: Instead you let my life spiral around this thing, kept me tethered to Ice King’s Madness-

[Panel 13] Prismo: Fionna and Cake are real thou- Simon: NOW you tell me! After I find out for myself!

[strawberrydykke]

one of the things that i really hate is when a guy is really creepy toward women but people make excuses that maybe's he's just autistic. why is that your perception of autistic people. why do people think its more likely for a creepy guy to be autistic than just like. a regular misogynist that doesn't treat women as people. and why would being autistic make it excusable.

it feels kind of infantilizing to me. like people expect we autistic people to not have control over ourselves at all and no ability to learn right from wrong.

i think it's also because it's easier to blame individual people for "being wrong" rather than accept that our society and culture is extremely hostile toward women and creates an environment where men behave this way because they have been taught to and because they can get away with it.