#one of them would've said I don't and you don't know me
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SUBTLE IS A STRONG WORD
rafe cameron x fem!reader
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SUMMARY: rafe uses a tiktok trend to his advantage.
based on this request !! i hope it’s what you asked for @ursogorgeous13 , i decided to take the fluff route because it just worked :) I AM BACK THOUGH !! please read the authors note at the bottom !! <3
(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)
WARNINGS: allusions to sex (oral m!rec), flirty!rafe, just pure fluff !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)
WORD COUNT: 800 words (approx.)
THIRD PERSON +
Y/N was curled up on Rafe's couch, scrolling through her phone while waiting for him to get back with their coffee. The AC was blasting, the distant sound of waves from Figure Eight's beach hummed in the background, and the scent of Rafe's cologne still lingered on his hoodie that she had stolen.
It was one of those lazy afternoons where neither of them had anywhere to be, so they had fallen into their usual routine: Y/N begged for coffee, Rafe pretended to complain about being her personal delivery boy, and then he left anyway because he secretly loved spoiling her.
She had spent the past few days showing him countless TikToks about the new Starbucks cup policy-baristas were now writing random little messages on cups, ranging from generic "Have a nice day!" notes to weirdly specific fortunes. She thought it was adorable. Rafe? Less so. He mostly nodded along, unimpressed, while she giggled at each new video.
But today, when he finally returned, drinks in hand, Y/N barely had time to thank him before she noticed the writing on the cups.
Her curiosity piqued, she reached for her cup first, eyes scanning the message.
"Give your bf a BJ❤️”
She blinked. Then, suspicious, she grabbed Rafe's cup.
"A BJ is coming your way❤️”
For a moment, she just stared at them, processing. And then, slowly, a grin stretched across her face.
"You have got to be kidding me." She turned the cups toward him, raising an eyebrow.
Rafe, the smug bastard, didn't even try to look innocent. If anything, he looked proud of himself.
"What?" he said, flopping onto the couch next to her, taking his drink from her hand.
Y/N bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Rafe."
"Mm?"
"These messages." She tapped a finger against the cup. "You do realise I can recognise your handwriting, right?"
Rafe choked on his sip, coughing dramatically before shooting her an unconvincing look of confusion. "Pfft. What? That's-Y/N, that's wild. You think / wrote that?"
"Yes, I know you wrote it."
"You don't know that," he countered, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him.
Y/N leaned in, tilting her head. "So you're telling me that the coffee shop employees, out of the kindness of their hearts, just randomly decided to write this on our cups?"
"Sounds like it," he said, nodding solemnly. "Real ones. We should tip them."
Y/N burst out laughing. "Rafe! You're ridiculous."
"I'm a visionary, actually." He leaned back, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. "I'm just taking advantage of an opportunity when I see one."
She smirked, setting her drink down before shifting closer to him. "So, let me get this straight... You went through the trouble of faking a Starbucks trend just so you could subtly ask for-"
“'Subtly' is a strong word," Rafe interrupted, grinning. "I think it was actually pretty direct."
YN shook her head, chuckling. "You do realise I could have been the one to grab the drinks, right? What if you weren't able to intercept them first?"
Rafe shrugged. "Then I'd be in jail for public indecency, but it would've been worth it."
She laughed, shaking her head at him. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet, you're still here." He shot her a wink.
"Against my better judgment."
"Oh, please. You love it."
Y/N bit her lip, pretending to consider. "Mmm, maybe."
Rafe smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Sooo... you gonna listen to the cup's advice or what?"
She gasped dramatically. "Rafe Cameron! | am shocked that you would ever suggest such a thing."
"Shocked?" He arched a brow. "Y/N, you're literally straddling me right now."
“…Touché."
Rafe chuckled, his hands settling on her waist as she playfully toyed with the collar of his polo shirt.
"You know what would be funny?" she mused.
"If you actually followed through?"
Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. "No, dumbass. Next time, I should be the one to write something on the cups."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what would you write?"
She leaned in, her lips just brushing his ear as she whispered, "No blowjobs for guys who fake Starbucks messages."
Rafe groaned. "Alright, you got me. That was a dirty trick."
Y/N smirked, patting his cheek. "And yet, you're still here."
He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. "Fine, fine. But just so you know-" He gestured to the cups on the table. "—the next one's definitely gonna say 'Marry your boyfriend!"
Y/N snorted. "Smooth."
"I try."
And with that, he flipped them over, pressing her into the couch as she giggled beneath him.
Yeah, she was definitely writing the next one.
(divider by @kodaswrld !!)
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
hi everyone !! i’m back of holiday and i’m also older now (i had my 20th birthday !!), so sorry for going MIA but i just stayed off social media for my entire birthday trip but i’m going to be back to regular posts and updates <3
my drew starkey fic inspired by ‘sports car’ by tate mcrae will be up soon, been working on it today !! fulfilling requests at the moment so there should be another one up tonight :)
(a reminder that is is strictly fictional guys !!)
#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆。˚#drew starkey#rafe cameron#bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆。˚#outer banks#fluff#rafe cameron x reader#obx#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x yn#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x female reader
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Chloe had knocked over Marinette's tray at lunch earlier that day. It wasn't anything new, just like the way Chloe had started making oinking noises to Sabrina when Marinette had bent down to clean it up. Or like the way Chloe had said that Marinette didn't really need the extra calories, so she was actually helping her after all.
Lucky Lucky Ladybug kept replaying the scene in her mind, over and over, thinking about just how stupid Chloe would've felt if Tikki had let Marinette transform and give Chloe a talking-to as Ladybug. She had woven the string of her yo-yo between her fingers into a cat's cradle, and every time her hands would stretch apart, the yo-yo would spin on its track. Then she'd bring her hands back together to catch the yo-yo mid spin, the metal body clacking against the bones in her hands. Spin, then clack. Spin, clack. Spin, clack.
Chat Noir had been talking for the past few minutes, but Ladybug never bothered to listen to him anymore. He had probably just made one of his awful puns again, based on the way he started stammering.
"Oh, uh, s-so the joke is that it's a play on the word—" "Have you ever thought that maybe, if you have to explain all of your jokes, you're not funny?" Chat Noir got quiet, his shoulders falling. Ladybug kept her eyes on her yo-yo. "I'm sorry, milady," Chat Noir apologized. "I just assumed you didn't understand the punchline." "Maybe you should come up with jokes other people understand then. That way people might actually laugh at them." Spin, clack. Spin, clack. Ladybug kept imagining Chloe's face, with her pale blue eyeshadow and her cakey makeup.
Chat Noir started to twist his fingers together, the claws on his thumbs digging into his gloved hands. It wasn't anything new—people having little patience with him, that is. His father had gotten him used to it by now. Chat Noir knew that the right thing to do in such situations was just to acquiesce, and that when you acquiesced people liked you more for it. "I noticed you and Rena were on television the other day. How did that go?" Ladybug hunched over herself, scoffing as she wound the string of her yo-yo tighter around her fingers. She had started bring Renared to press conferences and fan meetups because she could trust that Alya wouldn't act like an idiot or say stupid things. Alya was a good friend like that, willing to pick up Chat Noir's slack. Plus, doing things with Rena instead meant that Marinette and Alya could hang out for the rest of the day, and Marinette would actually enjoy herself. Doing anything of that with Chat Noir... would mean she'd be hanging out with Chat Noir. Bad pickup lines and worse jokes included.
"It was fine," Ladybug huffed, rolling her eyes. "Why do you even care?" "Oh- well, uhm. You just used to take me, and I was wondering if you had a reason that you... well... stopped."
One time during an interview, Chat Noir had derailed the entire conversation talking about the intricacies of whether or not their group of holders counted more as a religious or a political organization, entirely unaware that nobody could even begin to care about such a thing. Spin, clack. Spin, clack.
Ladybug thought about the way Chloe's face had scrunched up when she oinked at Marinette. Ladybug thought of Chat Noir's stupid awkward stammer. Ladybug thought about having to admit to her mother that her grades were getting worse.
Ladybug trapped the yo-yo in her hands for the last time, almost trying to crush it.
"It's because she's better at it than you, and I like you better when I don't have to hear you talk. Does that make you happy?!"
Chat Noir almost answered—No, actually, knowing that people didn't like hearing him talk didn't make him happy at all. But he'd learned by now that when Ladybug asked him questions like that, she wasn't actually asking and a response would only make her angrier.
"I'm sorry. I'll talk less, milady."
"I told you to stop calling me that."
"...I'm sorry."
Maybe Chloe could pick on Chat Noir for a change. He deserved it more than she did.
#*slams my pencil down* NOW THATS HOW YOU FUCKING DO IT BABY#writing blurbs#ladynoir#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#chat noir#adrien agreste#ladybug and chat noir#ml ladybug#tales of ladybug and cat noir#chloe bourgeois#rotten love square#mlb adrien#miraculous adrien#mlb marinette#miraculous marinette#alya cesaire#mlb alya#miraculous alya#rena rouge#miraculous fandom#thewarmembraceofshadow#lucky lucky ladybug
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Chapter 2 of Sonic Boom! Stone AU
Love, Trust, and a handful of thread
Finally Stone gets to serve eggman a latte with steamed Austrian goat milk
Sticks and Shadow form an alliance, besties with different trust issues yay
EDIT: I accidentally posted the unedited version on here so it's better to read the fic on Ao3!!
Meanwhile back at the cafe:
Amy apologized profusely for Stick's behavior
"I'm so sorry Mr. Stone, she's usually way nicer..." The Hedgehog's ears drooped
Stone shook his head "No need to apologize, Ms. Amy, she's not the worst customer I've ever had."
It was true because Sticks wasn't even a customer yet, she was a whole other problem...
She was getting close to blowing his cover, her theory was dangerously close to the truth, just who was that badger?
A nut job according to her friends, but she wasn't the first person to be suspicious of the human, the cops (well, cop: singular) were wary of him, warning him from causing havoc, "Eggman is enough work already!" to which Stone scoffed internally at, Sonic and his team do all the work.
He didn't want to defend "heroes" but had to admit even if it pained him, they weren't so bad, if he could divide his time between his job as a barista and his..hobby then he'd be able to maintain a somewhat normal friendship with the rodents.
Were echidnas rodents? He'd look it up later.
A little kid was sitting next to his brother eating a cupcake, his little brother started fighting him over it until it dropped for the older brother's hand.
Stone grabbed two cupcakes from behind the glass display and went to give one to each boy.
"Here you kiddos, free of charge." He smiled giving each kid a cupcake, he also briefly glared at their mom who just sat there and let them fight each other.
Sure he may be a villain but he will judge bad parents, he needed good reviews for his restaurant anyway.
Amy internally cooed at how nice Stone was to kids.
Sonic took the last sip of his coffee and patted his legs seemingly looking for his wallet, even though he wasn't wearing any pants, Stone made a face at that.
"Crap, I forgot my wallet, let me just scurry back home and grab some money, I'll be back in a blink of an eye."
"You don't have to do that, this is the first time you guys grace my cafe with your presence after all, your orders are on the house."
"That's so nice of you mister!" Tails beamed at the man, "Yeah a little too nice, you give out a lotta free stuff, money doesn't grow on trees y'know" Sonic said, there was no malice in his tone.
"Yeah, we all know money comes out of printers." Knuckles spoke between bites of his brownie.
They all stared at him for a moment.
Tails sighs "Remind me to discuss Knuckles's counterfeiting habits."
A loud blast from outside interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
It was Eggman, of course, "Told ya' Eggman would appear sooner or later." Sonic said to Stone, "Stay right here Stones, we'll protect the place."
The moment the barista's eyes landed on the villain beyond his glass doors his heart skipped a beat, suddenly no one else existed it was just him and that man.
That maniacal laughter only served to make the pink effect around him grow even brighter and more glittery.
Or however the hell you describe Shoujo vision in writing.
The team ran out to fight the man in the egg mobile, the fight went on for a minute while Stone stared in awe at the evil doctor, admiring his every command to his robots, and how determined he was.
"Why's your face like that, Mister? And what's with all the glitter?" the little kid from earlier asked
Stone realized how odd he was behaving, he'll have to get his act together if he wants Dr. Eggman to become his new boss.
Another laser blast hit the spot right in front of his cafe if it had been any closer it would've absolutely destroyed the entrance.
He quickly adjusted his clothes and hair and sprinted toward Eggman.
"Hey! You there! uh, sir!" Stone waved to the doctor, in return he raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar man.
He lowered his egg mobile enough to not have to raise their voices to hear each other, he yelled anyway.
"What do you want?!...and who are you." Dr.Eggman questioned, looking the man up and down.
Stone breathed in, "This is it, don't mess it up", he thought to himself.
The barista grins, "I'm Stone..my name is Stone, and this is my coffee shop, I was wondering if you could move this battle a little further away from my shop, I don't want to be destroyed...is all." Stone cleared his throat nervously.
Eggman stared at him for a moment.
"Stone! What are you doing man!? He's gonna laser blast you!" Sonic yelled out, Amy prepared her hammer, ready to protect Stone.
But Stone didn't waver or spare them a glance, he felt like this was his first test, to prove how worthy he was, so he stared right back.
Everyone in this village has a staring problem.
"...and why should I listen to you?" Eggman snarled, if it was anyone else talking to him he would've ordered a robot to throw him in the ocean immediately, but he was intrigued with this "Stone" guy, if he was speaking honestly to himself he'd admit that Stone was the most beautiful man on this godforsaken land.
Which doesn't sound that impressive since every other man was an animal.
"um... please?" Stone awkwardly tilted his head to the side.
Eggman groaned, "Okay fine! Now stop glittering!".
And with that Eggman's egg mobile floated away.
"Glittering?.." Stone parroted, he shrugged and just sighed with one last glance at Eggman.
The team quickly went after him, but Sonic zoomed back in front of Stone.
"Okay I don't know how you did that but that was impressive." He smirked before speeding back to his friends.
Soon, the team went back to their previous seats, they noticed that Stone seemed a little happier than before.
Then Eggman appeared, without his egg mobile and robots that is.
Stone's back straightened and his eyes went wide, he smiled again.
"Welcome, sir." Stone greets him as calmly as he can, "It's "Doctor"." Eggman corrected.
Stone nodded enthusiastically, "My apologies, Doctor."
The Doctor asked the questions literally everyone else has asked already, "when was this place even built?", "What are all these coffees?", "what's with the red stain on the ground?"
"Let me serve you something special, Doctor." The villain raised an eyebrow, "Just go take a seat and I'll bring it to you in no time."
And that's what the doctor did.
Stone started working on his special order, He gasped a little when he turned around and found Amy and Sonic right behind him, "Dude, do you want us to get this guy out of here?" Sonic offered, "Yeah, you don't have to serve him if you don't want to." Amy added.
"No! No no, don't do that, this is exactly what I want.." He looked back to smile at the doctor, whose back was facing him.
Amy can recognize that smile anywhere, and Sonic recognizes that pink aura...
"Oh boy." Sonic moans, "Don't be like that." Amy giggled and nudged her blue friend.
"What?" Stone asks while already turning around to resume making the drink.
"Stone..is there something you want to tell us?" Pinky sways gently.
"uh yeah, customers are not allowed behind the counter." Stone tries to hide his crimson face from the other two.
"She means about Eggman, don't tell me you got the hots for a guy that needs his robots to do every little thing for him"
"I can do every little thing for him." Stone thinks.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Stone shrugs.
Amy and Sonic exchange a look before chuckling together.
"Okay, but we're gonna kick his butt if he tries anything, just signal for us whenever." Sonic and Amy return to their friends, who have equally smug looks on their faces.
Stone finally finishes the drink and servers it.
"Here you go sir-I mean Doctor!" he stammers.
Eggman looks at it suspiciously before taking a sip, his expression changes for a second before going back to faux annoyance.
"This is...good...what is it?" "It's a latte with steamed Austrian goat milk." Stone beams, Eggman takes another sip, and Stone stands there staring at him with fond eyes.
"What? Are you just gonna stand there? Scram!" Eggman commanded.
Stone immediately obliged with the goofiest grin on his face.
Sonic and his friends were severely judging him.
15 minutes late Cubot and Orbot barged through the doors, "We fixed the Egg mobile, boss!" the two robots announced, the cube-shaped one pointed at Stone "Hey isn't that the handsome guy with the stupid grin you told us about?"
Eggman quickly got on his feet, "What? No! What are you talking about!?" And dragged his henchmen out the door.
Stone was sure that he might just die.
___________________________
Sticks looked for the hedgehog, she knew this forest like the back of her claw, there were only so many caves she could look through before finding the morally ambiguous emo dude.
The purple glowing symbols on the cave's walls caught her attention, surely he was here.
She dragged her hand along the rough texture of the cave's interior, admiring it for a moment, she wondered if tails could decipher what was written.
"What are you doing here." She snapped her head around quickly to face the black and red hedgehog.
"You!" Sticks's grating voice echoed through the cave.
She stepped forward, "I need your help, this is urgent."
Shadow squints his eyes as if telling her to go on.
"There's this man- a "Stone" as he calls himself, he's pure evil I'm telling you!" She squeaked, "His coffee shop just appeared in the middle of town, and everyone seems to like him." She glared at the ground beneath her.
Shadow eyebrows furrowed his eyebrows ever so slightly, the badger's hands were at her side clenched tightly, and the hair on her head and back stood up, this was serious.
"What will I gain from helping you?" Shadow scoffs.
"It's what will you gain from not helping me, we'll all be under that man's mercy if we don't do anything." she flailed her arms around.
Shadow thought about it for a moment, he can't have somebody establishing dominance over the entire area, he can't let a lower lifeform do that...
"He wants to brainwash us all, I'm tellin' ya!", "and what good would that serve him?"
Sticks grabbes Shadow by the shoulders, "He wants to discover the village's most crucial secrets!" Shadow rolls his eyes "What 'crucial secrets' would this pathetic village even have?"
"Um, Comedy chimp's real name, the real secret ingredient in Meh Burger, Soar the eagle's shady past." She lets go of him and snaps her fingers, "Catch up, Shads."
"And why did you choose me specifically to help you?" he lifted his nose up high, "I'm sure the colorful bunch you call friends would love to help you sort this out."
"They don't believe me!" She screeched.
His face scrunched up and his ears twitched at her loud voice, "Chaos, I wonder why" The ultimate lifeform thought.
"And they're all probably brainwashed already! They ate and drank from that guy's food, it's definitely *full* of microchips." Sticks stomped her foot, "And I can't do this on my own, I need someone strong enough to handle him if I'm kidnapped!"
Shadow hums and thinks to himself...
Her theory sounded insane, yes, but anything is possible, he doesn't want to deal with the aftermath if they could deal with this before it starts to get ugly.
"...How about this." He approaches the brown and cocoa girl, "I need proof, something to go off of, I can't just dive blindly into action like I'm some...blue boy."
He puts a claw on her shoulder, "Prove to me that this man is something more than just a barista, then I will form an alliance with you."
Sticks's eyes light up with anticipation, "Deal!" she announced before grabbing his hand in a handshake.
He regrets this already.
__________________
The sun was almost setting, and Stone's off the clock.
He locked the cafe's doors and stretched his back, today was draining and eventful, now he had to go pick up some stuff for the shop and himself, and *then* he could go home.
He picks up the bag he was gonna carry groceries in.
From behind a tree nearby Sticks nudges Shadow, "Okay, he's out of the shop and he's heading for the market, we just have to wait until he's all alone, and *bam*! Catch him and make him spit out the truth!"
The hedgehog tapped his foot impatiently, "This sounds idiotic, if your theory about him being a government agent is correct how are you going to combat him to interrogate him?"
"I don't have to, I'll set up a net for him to tangle up in."
"Oh really? And how will you be able to do that if you don't know his specific path?"
"I'll follow him and when the time's right I'll run a few steps ahead and set up a trap."
Shadow snorted, "You can't possibly believe that you'll be able to set up a whole trap when you're only a few steps ahead."
Sticks crossed her arms, "are you doubting my skills? 'Cause let me tell ya' I've been hand-making nets, boomerangs, weapons, and all kinds of traps since I was a little cub! This is easier than..than.."
"taking candy from a baby?"
"Yeah!" she fumed.
"If you seriously believe that you can pull this off, then have at it, but I won't stand around and watch this pathetic display."
"Fine." She stomped and turned her back to him.
"He's gone by the way."
She gasped and stepped out of the tree's shadow and turned her head around frantically looking for the subject of her distress.
She turns back to Shadow, "This is all your fault-" Before she could point an accusing finger she realized that he had already left.
_____________
After a few minutes of looking and cursing Shadow out to herself, she finally found him.
She hid behind a stack of wooden crates staring at the human who was negotiating the price of some fruit with the merchant.
She sat there monitoring him.
The sound of the merchants, buyers, and kids all blended together as she started to space out, her thoughts becoming louder than outside noises.
Why don't her friends ever trust her? She was right that one time with Eggman's dreambot, was that not enough? Were her contributions to her team not enough?
And then here comes Shadow, her last resort.
They've only spoken once and at the end of that interaction, he dropped her from the sky!
The badger rubs her eyes before her tears fall, she was thankful that Amy wasn't here, the last thing she wanted to talk about was her feelings.
"I'll show 'em.." she mutters to herself.
She shifted her focus back to the government agent, he's been standing there since forever, what could possibly be that intriguing about fruits!?
She crawled out of her hiding spot and rolled over to hide behind a stand closer to Stone.
Her ear perked up as she tried to pick up on what Stone was saying.
"Beige berries you say?"
"I didn't say anything." The merchant deadpanned.
"A beige berry pie does sound good... you're prices are ridiculous though."
The merchant scoffed, "If you don't like it then how about you go pick the berries yourself."
"oh yeah I'll just venture into the forest while the sun is setting with zero protection just to pick berries for a pie, that sounds like a great idea."
There was a short pause... before Stone headed towards the forest to do just that.
"He's going to look for berries... I'll have to be quick and swift and precise, I only have one chance to catch him." she took a bite of her apple.
"Are you going to pay for that?" The merchant asked.
"Put it on the government agent's tab." she sprinted away.
____________
Stone admired the forest, which I will not describe because you know what a forest looks like.
Walking through the forest at this hour was rather nice, it was quiet except for some chirping and other animal noises, and the vague sound of someone setting up a net which he would gracefully ignore.
He thought about the pie he was planning on making, would the doctor like it? Would he even come by again?
Stone didn't know why he was asking himself these questions, he wanted to be the man's henchman, nothing more, nothing less, so why did the mere thought of him make his heart flip, jump up, kick back, whip around, and spin?
He shook his head, this was no way to think of his future boss.
He kneeled to pick the berries from a bush, that bush didn't have enough to make a pie, so he'd have to continue his walk.
His mind wandered for a minute, how would he grab the doctor's attention enough to get him to even *consider* Stone as a worthy henchman? The only things he knew about him so far were that he hated the rainbow furry hero squad and he treats his robots like garbage.
Oh, and that he loved the latte he served him. Stone beamed to himself proudly at the memory, if he could sell his latte-making skills to Eggman then he could definitely sell his evil-doing skills.
He should've spoken more to him when he had the chance instead of creepily staring at him from the counter. Stone's smile fell and he inwardly cursed himself.
Whatever, what's ahead of him is more important, he still has time to figure out how to win the villain over.
"He hates those rainbow critters huh..." Stone strokes his beard, "Maybe if I can catch them for him.. he'll see how useful I could be."
He giggled to himself in anticipation, he looked back up from his feet and saw another beige berry bush a few steps ahead of him, that one will surely suffice for the pie.
He trotted towards the bush, and all of a sudden everything was upside down and his bag was on the ground with the fruits spilling out, he had let out a shriek before coming down from the initial shock with a few deep breaths.
He fought against the restraints of the net he was caught in but it just wouldn't budge, his arms were tightly bound at his sides, and his legs were also bound together, he huffed and looked around for help or any sign of whoever put him in this predicament, all he found was a wooden stick to the head and then darkness.
______________
Stone groaned before slowly opening his eyes and quickly closing them again when the light assaulted them, which only served to make his pounding headache worse.
The sun had already set, and the only source of light was an electric lantern hanging from one of the tree branches, emitting a strong white light directly at his face, it brought back many unpleasant memories.
"Ugh..where am I?" His eyes adjusted to the light and he could make out the figure of a badger in front of him, holding his wallet, he knew this lunatic was going to be a problem, he could see a hut just a few feet away, it matched its owner.
"I'm the one that should be asking questions here Mar-...Mar-wane" She pronounced his name like it hurt.
"It's Marwan... honestly that pronunciation is more offensive than the stick to the head you just gave me..and being hung upside down on a tree." He rolled his eyes, thankfully he was off the clock and out of uniform now and he could disrespect people as much as he pleased.
And yeah his name is 'Stone Stone'
"Shut up!" The wallet fell from the badger's claw.
She stomped towards the man and pressed her finger against his chest.
"This is an interrogation."
"Oh really? I thought I was roleplaying a pea pod." Stone snorted but there was no humor behind it.
"The only role you're going to be playing right now is the victim."
Stone raised an eyebrow "Pardon?" he was unimpressed.
"That didn't come out right." Sticks scratched the back of her head, "But that's not the point!"
"The point is I want to know exactly who you are." Her voice got low.
"You were holding my ID just a second ago."
"I mean who you *really* are, I know that you're not just some barista." Stick put her arms behind her back.
Stone swallows.
"I see right through your act and I will not stand around and watch you hornswoggle those innocent villagers and my friends!" She circled him.
Stone made a face, *"hornswoggle?"* he mouthed.
"As much as I enjoy this 60's caveman detective persona you got, I haven't a clue what you're talking about."
Sticks noticed the shift in his tone immediately, she stopped in her tracks, and her jaw clenched, he was using his sweet talker voice on her and would spew out a bunch of bunk.
"I'm just a guy trying to get by you know?... My old manager wasn't the nicest, so I had to find my way, I quit my job and I just happened to have enough to move here and start my own independent business, just to serve happiness in the form of freshly made coffee." He fluttered his lashes
Sticks wanted about to barf.
"I'm not as dumb as I look."
"Unfortunately." His tone went back to his *real* one.
"Then explain to me how the crud did your shop just appear in the middle of town?" she interrogated.
"Let's just say that it was already built just...moved."
She squints at him, "And why did you choose this town specifically?"
"I just heard good things about it."
That's the biggest piece of horse junk she's ever heard in her life, the only good thing that could be said about this town is that you don't have to go there.
Sticks decided that she needed to try a different approach, accusations.
"I know exactly what you are."
"...Why did you ask then-"
Sticks clutched Stone's shirt in her hand and pulled his hanging form towards her until they were nose to nose.
She inhales, "You're a government agent that's her to plant microchips into our food to brainwash us and learn all of our secrets to rule this village and turn us all into soldiers! and when that works out for you you'll be promoted to general and then betray your agency and who knows what else!" She exhaled and pants.
Stone looked at her in a way that could only be described as something between disbelief, anger, and exhaustion.
"Why would I plant microchips into your food...When I could just use your damn phones for that?! And what agency!?" Stone argued.
"Because I don't got a phone, so you can't control my brain."
Stone closed his eyes tightly for a second and took a deep breath, she's so lucky he has his arms tied.
"The only way your brain would prove useful is if I scoop it out of your carcass with a screwdriver." Stone countered, making the author debate whether they should change the fic's rating or not.
"Your threats don't scare me."
The human sighs deeply and prays that this is all just a very bad poised-berries-induced nightmare, "Can you at least put me down? It's hard to focus with all the blood rushing to my head."
"No! You don't deserve to be put down! You will stay right there like an oversized bat mutant until I can prove to my friends that they can trust me." she let go of him and crossed her arms, continuing her previous route of circling him.
Stone's expression faltered at the confession.
"Your friends don't trust you?"
Sticks pressed her lips together, there was something more genuine about Stone's shift in tone, perhaps pity.
"Not usually..or maybe they do-or-ugh!" Sticks made a noise of frustration that was equivalent to a chihuahua choking on a kazoo.
The badger sits down on a conveniently placed rock, "I dunno..."
"At first I thought it was because they don't trust my intuition," By intuition, she meant insane theories, "But I haven't even had a conversation with Shadow before today, and he also doesn't trust me!" She kicks the ground in frustration.
Stone hated this badger, he truly did, but that didn't mean he didn't feel at least a little bit of empathy for her, he went through something similar himself.
"..it sounds like to me that this is more about proving yourself than proving me evil."
The badger wailed, "That ain't it it's- it's about both... maybe." she rubbed both hands through her hair frantically, "I hate feelings talk! I'm so glad Amy isn't here she would've- wait a minute." she paused abruptly through her vent.
Her head slowly turned to the hanging man, she jumped from her seat "You're changing the subject!"
"Oh, am I?" He rolled his eyes, though he wasn't sure if he was actually changing the subject or that he cared, His moral compass was jammed.
"You're trying to persuade me into being vulnerable and talking about my feelings like a- like-"
"A therapist?" Stone guessed.
"A journalist!"
That checks out.
"This isn't working... I'll grab something to get you to talk, stay right there!" she ran inside to her hut.
He wasn't going to wait and find out what it was.
It only took Sticks a few minutes to emerge from her home with a comically large feather.
"Now you'll think before you talk- where did he go!?" She yelped, and she ran towards the spot where the government agent was previously hanging.
All that was left was a net that was burnt to a crisp around some edges.
The realization consumed her before the anger did, "I was right... I'm not paranoid...I was right!!" she pumped her fist in the air, the feather long forgotten.
Her friends were going to be so sorry when they find out just how wrong they were, she started doing her little "I told you so" dance over the burnt net.
"What are you doing?" a hoarse voice a few feet behind her interrupts her short victory shimmy, she screeches.
"Shadow?!" She was almost happy to see him, almost, before she remembered that she was mad at him, she crossed her arms and turned away from him.
Shadow kneels down over the ruined net, "These burn marks... they're precise, it was a machine that had done this."
"You were right," Shadow said the words with hesitation, he hated being wrong.
Shadow narrowed his eyes when no reply came, the badger just glanced at him with one eye for a second before shutting them again and turning further away.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She huffs and takes another step further away.
"Seriously?" He approaches her, "What has gotten into you? I don't have time for this foolishness."
"And I ain't got time for jerks either." She huffs.
"Is this about the trap thing?"
No reply, but she did turn slightly to glare at him.
"I was... wrong, okay? Now get over it."
She turned around again, they were back to square one.
"What do you want an apology?"
Sticks made a noise of frustration before sitting back down on the rock she was sitting on earlier.
"Speak up!" Shadow's patience was running thin.
"I want to understand why you don't trust me! You don't know me!"
"That's exactly why I don't trust you."
The badger's ears twitched, "oh.. that makes a little sense." her ears drooped.
The red and black hedgehog didn't want to get sappy with one of Sonic's hooligans but seems like he'll have to in the meantime.
He sat on a conveniently placed log next to the conveniently placed rock.
"I am..." He sighed, "I'm sor..." He groaned, "Sorry." it looked like he wanted to throw up, he looked down at his feet, "If we want to make this alliance work, we're going to have to trust each other from now on, happy?"
He looked down at his feet, he had the faintest blush on his cheeks, wow he was much worse than Sticks at this feelings thing.
Sticks smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder, "No worries Shads', I forgive ya'."
"Never call me that." Shadow stands up. "Let's discuss our next move tomorrow, he probably already went home by now."
"Let's kidnap him!"
"Yes because kidnapping a man from his home would make people trust you way more." He snarked.
"Oh, you're right, that's why we need each other."
"I don't need anyone."
"Oh yeah? Why're you teaming up with me then?" she teased, leaning her face uncomfortably closer to his.
"Don't push your luck." He grabbed her face and pushed it away.
_______________
Does anybody else have this problem where they write so so much but there are more words than events actually happening? yeah same
sorry for the abrupt ending lol
#stobotnik#agent stone#boom! agent stone#sonic boom#sonic#sticks the badger#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#amy rose#Pls tell if this chapter is as good as the last djjsisjeis#dr eggman#dr robotnik#zee writing
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I agree with your Mary posts! I also think Dean asking her to "be a mom" in that scene is not about wanting her to baby them but simply just wanting her to choose her sons over the organization that let one of its members literally torture and r*pe Sam only a few episodes before that!
Literally Dean is so very clear in that scene that what he's upset abt is her choosing the BMOL over them. Not abt her not "parenting" them or playing "mommy." He's just upset that she doesn't seem to want to be around them, and that she instead has been working with their enemies. And even if that wasn't her intention, even if she was in fact doing it "for" them and trying to protect them by working with the enemy they're still allowed to be hurt by her decision.
She tells them that she's been struggling, trying to play three decades of catch up and Dean tells her they have been struggling too. They have been grieving her their whole lives. But now that she's here they want her there. She's finally alive, they finally have a chance to be together, and she keeps leaving. And that hurts. But he also understands and sympathizes. He tells her, "You said that you needed time. No, you said you need space. So we gave you your space." They have been patient with her. Dean understands very well needing time and space to process things. But what hurts is that, from his perspective, it seems like she is choosing anyone but them. So when he says, "No, you needed space from us," and when she says she's "trying" and he cuts in with "How 'bout for once, you just try to be a mom?" IMO it's less about wanting her to "mother" them and play mommy and more about wanting her to be present in their lives, to choose them, to unconditionally love and support them and shoulder some of the pain and burdens they have been carrying on their own their whole lives. He wants, for once, to have a parent that CHOOSES him over the "mission." Like, don't people think that maybe seeing another parent walk out on him and choose hunting / work over being present in his life is a little bit upsetting / salting old wounds?
Anyways, I love Mary, though some may think it's a hashtag Crime to sympathize with Dean in this scene but like ??? Some people are projecting a lot of stuff Dean did not say or express in that scene. His upset and main criticism is about her choosing the BMOL over them, that's made clear in this exchange:
Dean: So between us and them – Mary: It's not like that. Dean: Yeah, Mary, it is. And you made your choice. So there's the door.
It's not about wanting her to play some "mom" role as if they were children. He wants her to choose them over their adversaries, and to be around them, get to know them, something both Dean and Sam want to do.
Anyways, I am always saying I would have loved more from this arc esp re: Mary's grief over losing her "babies." I think a lot of what Mary's feeling would've hit harder if they'd showed us more of her grief. (The "I need you to see me" scene hits so good for me bc it's tied up with this complicated grief. Mary finally acknowledging that adult Dean IS her baby. Truly SEEING him, instead of the perpetual 4 yr old that lives in her mind). But I don't blame her for wanting / needing space to process (deancoded!) or for throwing herself into hunting to Cope (john-and-sam coded!). Or for struggling with her identity in this new life. I enjoy all the tension and her being flawed and real and messy.
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"wanna spend the day together? just us." - s. gojo
requests r open!!!
659 wc, lowk wrote this during class, idk this might be ooc but wtv
satoru gojo is the sweetest lover ever. sometimes you feel as though you don't deserve him. more often then not, really.
satoru knows this. he's constantly reassuring you, even more so this valentine's season. seeing all the couples together, looking so happy. you and satoru are happy, it's just been.. difficult lately.
he's had endless missions. you've had a couple of your own, but since he's the strongest it means that they rely on him to go after most special grade curses. you were stuck at first grade, even though you very much qualify for special grade.
you just miss your boyfriend, and you're a bit insecure since your last partner.. well, your last partner was an asshole. never gave you attention, not like gojo does. sure, they didn't have the kind of money as your current boyfriend, but they never even paid for dinner!
gojo is freaking out. you've been more distant. instead of the usual wide smile he's greeted with, it's just a small hum of acknowledgment. there's no dinner on the table, not even takeout. he doesn't ask you to cook for him, you just did it.
now, it's different. you just snuggle into his embrace and stay quiet.
did he do something wrong? is it his haircut? oh god, you're totally going to break up with him. this is it! he always knew he'd die alone--
your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "satoru?" he looks at you. "yeah? what's up, pumpkin?" he smiles when he sees your face scrunch up at the nickname. you huff, "i asked you a question."
"oh, sorry. what was it?" he grins wider, "which one smells better?" you're holding two perfume bottles, asking him which smells better.
he brings one up to his nose and hums softly, then the other one and chews on his lower lip. "this one." he holds up the peach-scented perfume.
"okay," you say softly. he wraps his arm around you, tugging you closer. you hesitantly lean into his chest, closing your eyes.
you wake up to an empty bed, again. gojo is probably on a mission. you sigh to yourself, standing up. you waddle over to the bathroom to wash your face and pee.
once you're done, you smell something sweet.. souffle pancakes?
you walk into the kitchen and see your sweet boyfriend over the stove, attempting to make the perfect pancake. "'toru?" he lifts his head, smiling at you.
"morning, pumpkin!" he says happily, "made you some breakfast!" you furrow your brows in confusion, your boyfriend is not a cook.
"how long have you been up?" you ask, "i dunno! two hours?"
"babe, you have work. why are you making breakfast?" he huffs, rolling his eyes. "who even cares? the elders can't punish me." you blink at him.
"c'mon, don't you wanna spend the day together? just us!" you stare at him, feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.
his eyes widen, "oh! don't cry, i'll--i'll go to work!" he rushes over to wipe your eyes. you sniff, "no.. no, don't.. please don't go."
he wraps his arms around you. "okay, i won't.. i'm right here, baby." he scratches your back gently. you hiccup, "i just miss you, that's all.." you say quietly.
he nods, "i know.. i miss you too." he presses a kiss to your forehead, "i don't want my girlfriend to be sad, okay? so, smile f'me."
if anyone else would've said this, you probably would've punched them. but you just press a kiss to satoru's cheek. "i love you." "i love you, pumpkin."
you don't have to know that shoko was the one who told him to stay home today, at least not right now.
this was supposed to be finished yesterday but my room was so nasty I had to clean it 😔
masterlist , taglist
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#satorugojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x you#jujustu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#anime x reader#x reader#x you#fluff#drabble#runawaybridee
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Genuine question, but where did you pick up "the Brother cult is a common religion in modern day Remnant" from? At least, I'm pretty sure you've said this before on here; my memory is pretty bad lol.
I'm just curious since I've been rewatching RWBY lately, and i remembered that, and I thought it was interesting bc I never once saw or picked up on anything that would suggest that in canon (unless it's like, a headcanon on your part, in which case feel free to ignore me, I'm not here to needlessly criticize a fun headcanon if that's the case loll, i have my own fantasy religion headcanons bc I'm unhinged abt worldbuilding).
If you don't mind, I want to explain my reasoning/thoughts on why I don't think the Brothers are worshipped on modern Remnant (feel free to pick them apart):
-> Qrow says that "not many people are super religious these days". Mind you, I don't take much stock at all in what characters say, especially not in RWBY (i frequently side-eye characters who speak on the Oz merge who aren't Ozpin himself, Light, or Jinn), but i feel like this would be an odd thing to say if it wasn't true. This is supported by The Shallow Sea fading into just a 'fanciful creation myth', as well as none of the main or even side characters being religious (though it could be bc it's just not important) nor discussing religion. Churches don't seem to be common (aside from the one in v4), and imagery of what seem to be altars are scattered and infrequent. Religion is also never brought up when discussing the kingdoms' governments either. So, so far, Qrows line holds true.
-> When Qrow talks about the Brothers, RNJR never really shows that they recognize the story, or at least that they don't put weight on it, unlike finding out the Maidens are real. They're just like "...okay so why is that important", unlike how I imagine religious people would react to finding out their God(s) are real. Plus, Qrow has to explain it to them; if it was a well known religious story, I'm sure the writers would have written it more like "So, you know [insert religion name]? Yeah, according to Ozpin, that story is real. In case you aren't familiar, let me explain it for you... [insert convenient lore dump for the audience]". Plus, the way Qrow phrases it gives me the impression that it's an obscure story. Weaker point, though, I'll admit.
-> In any of the times that we see what *might* be evidence of religion (i.e. the candles/altar in the White Fang in v4, the church in Ruby's v4 short), there's no religious iconography depicting the Brothers (at least, nothing that I've caught). In general, there doesn't seem to be any dragon imagery in modern Remnant (again, nothing that I've caught yet).
-> It's depicted as a fairytale. When Ozpin asks for Pyrrha's favorite fairytales, the first thing she says is The Tale of the Two Brothers. It's also in his fairytale book, something i feel would've been a controversial (if extremely funny) decision if it was a popular religious story (like if you put Jesus' crucifixion in a book including rapunzel and Cinderella).
-> Also, there's no common sayings including the Brothers (like how fics like to have the characters say "Oh Brothers" and other variations).
-> And, in general, Oz's inner circle really wasn't at all concerned with the Gods or really even the Divine Mandate. All they knew was that the Gods created Remnant, humanity, the Grimm, and the Relics and promptly abandoned Remnant, and that "If someone were to collect all four [Relics], they'd be able to change the world." And that that's "exactly what the enemy wants." So they only know the absolute basics of the Mandate, and the way it's worded implies (to me, anyways) that Oz worded it in such a way that cautioned against collecting the Relics (which is very interesting to me. This also tracks with how he depicts the Mandate in TTOTTB). So in general not even the inner circle feels like Brother/Light followers to me, just Oz followers (in general i imagine the events of the infinite man made him learn that bringing up judgement day is a Bad Thing, considering before bringing it up the Circle flourished, but after spreading the message, it was immediately destroyed. Instant karma. Poor dude). Though this starts leaning into the territory of my theory that Oz actually gave up on his mission (which like, could be wrong, but I'm holding onto it until I'm proven wrong), and I'm sure you don't wanna hear that one lol.
In general it seems to me like there isn't a Brothers-centric religion so far, even though Remnant still has organized religion (albeit uncommon). But I'm honestly not sure if I missed anything? I'm sure as hell not the type to comb through every background to see if I did lol.
Sorry for the long ass ask. Take your time answering, and have fun picking apart my reasoning. Please be nice abt it tho 👉👈 I just want to know your thoughts and if i missed anything that proves it's a modern day religion :)
-🌙
okay. first, at the risk of being condescending: religious people believe that their gods are real. you know that, right? religion is not a big game of play pretend. people who practice religion do so because they believe in it.
yes, religious people can and do experience doubt. but a religious person whose doubting and questioning leads them to conclude their god(s) aren't real don't continue to practice the religion they don't believe in. i mean, they might make an outward performance of doing so if it's unsafe for them to leave and they're likely to keep cultural practices and even moral frameworks--see: ex-christians who are exactly as dogmatic and puritanical about whatever new belief system they've adopted--but people who don't believe in gods don't practice religion.
this:
They're just like "...okay so why is that important", unlike how I imagine religious people would react to finding out their God(s) are real.
is a fallacy you're making because (i presume) you aren't religious and have never been so; i suspect you just don't have any frame of reference and consequently you're projecting your own skepticism onto the hypothetical religious people in your imagination. to be clear, i don't mean this as a personal attack on you--this is a very normal thing for people to do when we're trying to conceptualize experiences that are profoundly different from our own.
my background though is evangelical christian. i was raised in a staunchly religious household attending church 2-3 times a week; i attended a christian school until transferring to public school in fifth grade; i've been to bible camps and conferences where they teach you how to evangelize to nonbelievers and that kind of thing. i'm not talking fundie cult here, to be clear--this was a relatively-by-evangelical-standards socially liberal and theologically mainstream nondenominational protestant church--but christianity was the central organizing structure of my life until i left home. i'm agnostic and fundamentally disagree with the moral framework of christianity but i know a lot of very devout christians and i'm very familiar with the religious praxis.
(including what genuine, good faith evangelical proselytization looks like--not door-to-door like what e.g. mormons do, or street corner chick tract fundie cult behavior, which is what non-christians typically think of as evangelism. but that stuff is a tactic high-control religious groups use to strengthen identification with the in-group through rejection and alienation by the out-group--evangelical churches that aren't culty don't do that, and in fact the idea that door-to-door and street corner preaching is an isolation tactic used by predatory religious groups is something that was first explained to me in sunday school by the people who taught me how to evangelize. put a pin in this for now.)
so: i'm not imagining hypothetical religious people when i say this, i'm imagining a few hundred specific religious people whom i personally know and how they would react in an equivalent situation.
what qrow does in 'a much needed talk' is he sit the kids down, goes "not many people are super religious these days… there's a lot of (false) gods people have made up throughout history, but y'know, these two are real. here's the truth…" and then tells them a simplified version of the two brothers creation myth.
he doesn't do anything to prove that these two gods, in particular, are real. he gives zero evidence. he doesn't even demonstrate that magic is real. this isn't "finding out" that the gods are real, this is uncle qrow doing a little impromptu sunday school lesson like that's an explanation for why some lunatic attacked us earlier. this is like if some rando tried to grab you on the street and pull you into an unmarked van and i saved you and me and the van guy clearly had some sort of history because he knew my full name so you asked me "WHO WAS THAT GUY. WHAT THE FUCK" and i said okay sit down, the first thing you need to know is that in the beginning, god created the heavens and the earth…
regardless of your personal religious beliefs or lack thereof, you would probably go "…what. does this have to do. with the van guy who ATTACKED ME" because that's like, truly a bizarre non-sequitur. but it's not like God Himself is descending from the heavens in a flaming whirlwind to demonstrate his existence. it's just me telling you he's real.
if you're a christian, in this scenario, that is not in any way a revelation to you. that's akin to, like, "the king of england is real." BIG IF TRUE?--you know this. you already know this. if you are a christian then you believe that the christian god exists and is the one true god. in this hypothetical scenario i'm telling you things you already know and believe foundationally to be true. a devout christian would probably respond more in the vein of "amen! god is good!" but one whose practice is casual--the christmas-and-easter christians--and secular christians would absolutely be "okay and…?" in an equivalent situation to 'a much needed talk.'
hell, come to that, i'd be asking what this has to do with the crazy guy who tried to kidnap me if i were in that situation. who cares that my dead headmaster was a true believer or whatever i want to know about the guy with the knife! you feel me?
the type of person whom i can imagine making a big deal out of qrow's little creation myth are:
reddit atheist types who cry and scream and shit bricks if they have to talk to somebody who believes in a god; you know. the kind of person categorically incapable of talking about religion in any capacity without at least one sneering "sky daddy"?
someone with no previous exposure to this religious tradition or anything remotely like it. imagine if i were to sit you down and earnestly tell you that the only Real Gods were, like, the hero twins who descended into the underworld to challenge the lords of death to a ballgame. you'd probably be like "HUH??" because hunahpú and xbalanqué are not a cultural reference point you're familiar with in the way that you're familiar with the crucifixion of jesus christ.
like, all religions are fucking weird. the christian gospels are not remotely less weird than the popol vuh, or whatever. you're just familiar with the essentials of the gospel story--even if you're not and have never been christian--because christianity is culturally dominant in the west. and the familiarity makes it normal. unremarkable.
invisible, in a way.
this is something the writers of rwby really get. if something is normal and ordinary in the world of remnant, the characters don't pay attention to it, even if it's bizarre to the audience. to use a non-religious example, civilians don't know what aura is! it's not common knowledge! we know that because jaune's never heard of it, civilians in vale are shocked and confused when penny stops a truck with her bare hands, and oscar (who has dealt with "occasional grimm" before) has no aura training and doesn't know what a semblance is. but to the rest of the characters, aura is a completely mundane aspect of their day to day lives and they're a little taken aback by characters like jaune and oscar who don't know about it.
with that in mind, i want to really underscore something about the things qrow tells RNJR in 'a much needed talk' and the way the kids react.
because. first, qrow gives them the same intro level rundown on the maidens that pyrrha got in v3--offscreen because that's shit the audience has already heard and don't need to be rehashed. the kids are like, "that's a lot to take in," and jaune in particular is like "this is all very sketchy, what the fuck is actually going on."
THEN, apropos nothing, qrow drops "not many people are super religious but These Two gods are actually real btw" and an abbreviated creation story, with NO proof and NO apparent connection to the maniacal cultist who ranted and raved about his body and soul belonging to his goddess-queen who sent him to "retrieve" ruby for her. and none of the kids express the slightest bit of skepticism about this super out of left field sunday school story, no one is like "what the fuck" or "are you drunk"--ren just goes "okay but how. is that relevant."
whereupon qrow finally tells them about the relics hidden under the schools and salem wanting them and that BAD THINGS will happen if she gets them. and then, jaune the skeptic goes: "alright, so let's say we believe all this--there really is this crazy evil being behind these attacks, not just some thugs trying to become powerful. why doesn't the world know?"
THAT'S the part he finds outrageous and difficult to believe. not that the two brothers are real, but that SALEM exists. salem. these kids literally JUST got attacked by a lunatic cultist who kept babbling about MY GODDESS HER GRACE THE QUEEN and directly stated that he is cinder's associate and referred to the white fang and torchwick as pawns, but the thing that makes them go "wait but this is crazy and makes no sense" is qrow explaining that there's a malevolent entity called salem who orchestrated the attack on beacon and sent that guy to capture ruby. like, objectively, from a purely logical standpoint, that's the least unbelievable thing that qrow tells them.
but people aren't rational agents. and one thing this scene does very effectively is establish the relative normality of each major chunk of information through the way the kids react:
maidens? "there are four special people who can do magic without dust? and when they die that power passes on to someone new? that's. well that's a lot to process but. sure."
brothers? "and this is relevant how?"
salem? "that's crazy how could someone like that possibly exist without everybody knowing about it? why should we believe any of this!?"
salem is so fucking far out of their previous understanding of how the world works that they all kind of have a kneejerk "that! can't be real!" response even though tyrian shouted from the literal rooftops that he's working for a 'goddess' who was behind the attack on beacon.
but the maidens? they have a frame of reference for magic--magic is what anyone can do with dust, and ruby…petrified a massive grimm with her eyes somehow a few months ago, so like, it's not THAT unbelievable to accept that an old story about four maidens who can do magic without dust is true, apparently.
whereas the stuff about brothers… nothing. not one of these kids so much as blinks even though. again, from a purely logical standpoint, the creation of remnant by the brothers is the most fantastical part of qrow's explanation. but the kids don't react that way, because it's normal to them. ergo they're either casual practitioners of brother-worship or brother-worship has cultural hegemony in vale and mistral, where RNJR grew up.
now! it's actually a simple matter of text whether the second possibility is true or not and this is the part of the answer where i have to just say: you're factually incorrect actually.
-> In any of the times that we see what *might* be evidence of religion (i.e. the candles/altar in the White Fang in v4, the church in Ruby's v4 short), there's no religious iconography depicting the Brothers (at least, nothing that I've caught). In general, there doesn't seem to be any dragon imagery in modern Remnant (again, nothing that I've caught yet).
there is a big statue of the dragon brothers smack in the middle of the train station in mistral. one gold, one dark. very unmistakably a depiction of Those Two. this is in v6 so if you're only up to v4 on your rewatch you can't uh, be expected to remember. (<- i am just unhinged enough about fictional religion i can tell you off the top of my head that yang and ruby swear by God in v1 but the ship captain in v4 swears "by the gods" and i think that church in ruby's character short implies maiden-worship on the basis of the statue of the cloaked young woman in front, details of this kind just stick in my memory for nerd reasons.)
[as an aside why would… the white fang… have an altar to mankind's gods… like. there are no faunus in 'the two brothers' and the culturally dominant religion among faunus is worship of the god of animals, as ozpin notes in his commentaries on 'shallow sea' & 'judgment.' the trappings of religion that we see in the white fang's private spaces are… obviously… god of animals-worship. this feels half a step shy of saying "well the altar in salem's war room doesn't have any draconic iconography, so therefore brother-worship isn't a thing." brother-worship is explicitly not the only religion in existence!]
-> Also, there's no common sayings including the Brothers (like how fics like to have the characters say "Oh Brothers" and other variations).
in v7, 'pomp and circumstance' specifically, ironwood says "brothers know you deserve it" in reference to RWBYJNR receiving their huntsman licenses. and a quick round up from the novels:
after the fall: "thank the brothers you found us," said by a bit character.
before the dawn: "thank the brothers," said by octavia; "by the brothers," said by finn asturias when he learns what his kids are planning
roman holiday: "thank the brothers," said once by neo's mother and once by a bit character.
there are also general exclamations of "my gods" or "by the gods" and general references to "the gods" both in rwby proper and ancillary materials, with "gods" being in far more frequent use than the singular "God"--gods, plural, doesn't necessarily mean the brothers every time, because qrow does make a point of noting that remnant's people, collectively, worship "dozens" of gods. but it is pretty evident that the dominant religion across the four human kingdoms has more than one god, and the coincidence of that with, taking the novels into consideration, characters from literally every kingdom except mistral which has a honking big statue of the brothers in its train station swear by the brothers… yeah the dominant religion globally is brother-worship. probably not in menagerie. but in the four human kingdoms, yeah.
-> It's depicted as a fairytale. When Ozpin asks for Pyrrha's favorite fairytales, the first thing she says is The Tale of the Two Brothers. It's also in his fairytale book, something i feel would've been a controversial (if extremely funny) decision if it was a popular religious story (like if you put Jesus' crucifixion in a book including rapunzel and Cinderella).
…and the second is 'the shallow sea,' which is also a religious myth. 'the story of the seasons' is alsowhat we'd call a myth, not a fairytale. 'the girl in the tower' is the only story pyrrha names in that scene that is actually a fairytale per se. in general the delineation we make between "fairytale" and "myth" in the real world, as discrete genres of folklore, doesn't seem to exist in remnant--legends and fairytales scattered in time, and all that. the conceit of rwby is about engaging with fairytale-as-myth, so this is a very intentional blurring; like, this is a narrative where maiden-in-tower IS the creation story, fundamentally. rapunzel is orpheus is prometheus and that's how the world was made.
and that's the kind of thing that we as the audience have to just accept as a fact of the fictional reality, because… like… gestures at 'the shallow sea.'
ozpin included THAT one in his book of fairytales, too, and in his commentary he explicitly describes it as part of a closed(!) oral tradition whose inclusion he deliberated for fear of being disrespectful. he devotes more than half of his commentary to justifying the choice to include it, and the rest to describing the myth's cultural context to his (presumed human) readers. he asks forgiveness for "overstepping himself."
and it is very obvious, in the way ozpin talks about 'the shallow sea' in particular and the book generally in his forward and afterward, that his concern is not "it is grotesquely horribly disrespectful to place this profoundly meaningful and important creation myth (of a culture that is not my own) in a collection of frivolous fairytales" but rather "this book is meant to be a collection of profoundly meaningful tales drawn from all of remnant's cultures and i believe this one is too important not to include, but i am also acutely aware that it is a closed tradition to which i do not belong." the latter is still out of pocket, but the simple fact is that a character who so obviously knows that publishing a story from a closed tradition without permission is Not Okay and so obviously feels immensely conflicted and guilty about doing so isn't a character who would blithely denigrate a myth like this by publishing it in a book of trivial fairytales. and a character who would denigrate the myth that way wouldn't agonize over whether it was important enough to be worth violating the closed tradition.
and then you consider that, out of the twelve stories ozpin put in this book, three are explicitly religious creation myths ('the shallow sea,' 'the judgment of faunus,' and 'the two brothers'), two others are myths describing the origin of natural phenomena ('the story of the seasons' and 'the gift of the moon'), and one is a mythical culture hero ('the infinite man')… so fully half the stories in this book aren't actually fairytales. they're myths.
so the inclusion of 'the two brothers' is less cinderella-and-christ than it is "here is an eclectic collection of folklore from around the world" in terms of what would be equivalent in the real world; and… like, 'the shallow sea,' 'judgment of faunus,' and 'the two brothers,' the plain text of these stories is clearly and unambiguously religious in nature, and ozpin explicitly discusses them as such.
his commentary on 'the two brothers,' in particular: "there are many versions of our creation story […] but certain elements are always consistent: they arrived from a realm outside of our own and together created the universe from nothing. and then they left us on our own." and "whether or not you believe in the brothers, or in this story in particular […] like the twin gods, we are intricately connected to each other" and, um:
Even if the gods aren’t real, even if they don’t return to judge us for our deeds, we should act each day as though they are arriving tomorrow. In the end, we will be the arbiters of our fates. We will either create a beautiful, peaceful world and live in harmony together or destroy ourselves and our planet, and the gods will judge what we have chosen.
remember how i said i'm intimately familiar with, specifically, evangelical christianity and what actual evangelism entails? not the deliberately off-putting door-to-door shit but proselytization for the purpose of bringing new people into a church that isn't a predatory high-control group?
the way ozpin talks about the brothers here, and the way qrow talks about them in 'a much needed talk,' is christian evangelism 101.
"not many people are super religious, these days." you know who says this type of thing? like, fucking constantly? evangelical christians. never mind that christianity is the majority religion in the US by a significant margin (66%!)--evangelical christians inhabit a constructed alternate reality wherein they're an embattled minority shining candlelight into a sea of darkness. (many of them accomplish this by deciding that most other christians aren't real christians; the classic protestant move of course being "catholics aren't christian" but your average evangelical takes a dim view of like. any denomination that isn't their denomination and when i tell you the nondenominationals are the worst offenders in this regard... lmao. anyways)
"not many people are super religious [christian] nowadays. people believe in all kinds of different gods and creeds, but there is only one true God"--this is literally just how evangelicals talk. both to each other and to non-believers they're hoping to interest in the church, although the tone depends on who's listening. internal discussions of this nature are strategic in nature--how do we reach people and speak to them effectively in these godless times? what is the right balance between presenting ourselves and our faith honestly while still creating a welcoming and accessible space for people who don't know jesus? how do we share what we believe with people who just don't care? and so forth--whereas the framing with nonbelievers is that it's innate in human nature to crave purpose and meaning and that everyone seeks fulfillment but few ever manage to find it because none of us are born knowing where to look, etc.
meanwhile in his commentary ozpin is doing a fantasy repackaging of the pascal's wager tactic, which like. i have sat through literal educational films on the rhetorical use of pascal's wager in effective evangelism. "well, if i believe in god and i'm wrong, i'll have lived a good, moral life and lost nothing; if you don't believe in god and you're wrong, hell" is one of THEEEE evangelist talking points. ideally, one used to open a conversation with friends and/or people who have indicated interest in talking about your faith in some way, especially if they ask "what if you're wrong?" because then the idea is to demonstrate that you're not rigidly dogmatic in your faith but instead you've given serious thought to the possibility that you might be wrong, and thus show that you understand and empathize with the nonbeliever's skepticism so as to build a genuine rapport. (whether it *works* that way in practice is highly dependent on like. charisma and actual meaningful ability to click with non-christians, which a lot of devout evangelicals… just can't even when they really earnestly do try, but ozpin as a character does have the charisma and the knack for connecting with people that can make this approach effective at getting irreligious people to give "hey, come to this church thing with me?" a shot.)
i cannot emphasize enough that after the obvious one of "directly openly stated religious beliefs," the reason ozpin and qrow specifically read to me as highly religious characters is because they talk exactly like evangelicals in secular company. they talk about and share their beliefs about the brothers the way i was taught in church to talk about christianity.
you don't go banging on people's doors or harassing them in the streets. nobody fucking likes that and it makes people not want to go to church. you don't go around with a stick up your butt about the non-christian people in your life not being christian. what you do is treat people with kindness and respect and draw firm boundaries for yourself to keep yourself safe (<- unironically growing up in an evangelical christian household is a huge part of the reason i am SO comfortable just fucking saying no to things i don't want to do and i think this is the one thing that evangelicals really have on a LOCK) while being open and honest and unapologetic about your own faith. you save the bitchy judgmental gossip and fire and brimstone garbage and like, talking about the eschaton for when it's just true believers.
evangelical christianity is an eschatological religion, by the way. in case you didn't know that. evangelicals believe that we are living in or on the cusp of the end times and the political action of evangelical christians in the united states is motivated in large part by a desire to enact the prophesied conditions that will herald the second coming of christ. for example a lot of evangelicals like trump because they think he's a divine implement of the great tribulation. evangelicals are obsessed with and actively trying to enact the apocalypse. and rwby is straight up the only fictional story i've ever encountered that understands how an eschatological cult operates because you can NOT advertise that shit. it FREAKS PEOPLE OUT. you keep the "i want the world to be riven by unprecedented catastrophe and suffering so i can be taken up to heaven in the rapture while the wrath of almighty god crushes what remains as grapes in a winepress" between yourself and the other doomsday cultists.
it's not like. SECRET. it's in the bible. but very few non-christians bother to actually read the bible and the ones who do are just not going to have the cultural context to know how very deadly serious evangelicals in particular are about the book of revelation or how much of a core pillar the eschatology is to evangelicalism; meanwhile american evangelicals are knowingly deliberately voting for the apocalypse. similarly,
“We must take back our gifts,” the God of Darkness said. “Reclaim our power and wipe this experiment from existence.”
“I disagree,” the God of Light said. “And we promised to share in the fate of our joint creation.” He gave a mighty yawn. “Let us rest, and when the time comes, we will see what Humanity has become in our absence. At that point, we will judge them. If they are worthy, we will take their forms and walk among them as equals. If not, we will take back our gifts and start over elsewhere. What do you say?”
“Who will decide whether they are worthy?” the God of Darkness said.
“Humanity will make it plain. If they come together in unity and find a way to destroy the evil in the world and within themselves, then they are worthy. If not … we will let them burn,” the God of Light said.
“So shall it be.” The two brothers agreed. But even in rest, they needed some distance from each other. Each dragon transformed himself into a new continent at one end of their world.
And there the dragons still sleep, until the day that the gods will waken, rise, and judge.
ozma's mandate is not a secret. the apocalyptic final judgment is clearly and emphatically spelled out in the myth of the two brothers, which he included in an anthology of tales intended for the general public and annotated to the effect of "i believe this one is true and even if you don't you should act like you do. btw. because it's true" YEAH MAN WE GET IT.
(he also asserts apropos nothing in his commentary on 'the gift of the moon'--a myth that does not mention the brothers at all--that the sun is a "celestial gift from the all-powerful god of light," so either 'the gift of the moon' is brother-cult doctrine or ozpin is pointing at a myth from another tradition and making it about his god.)
the main difference between ozpin and your average evangelical is that ozpin fears the end times because he doesn't believe anyone will be spared. but his behavior is the same. his way of presenting his religiosity in a way that minimizes and obfuscates the eschatological intention at the core is the same, if not more intense because the material reality of his situation, as the accursed chosen one literally commanded by God Himself to immanentize the eschaton, is a lot more terrifying and desperate. 'the infinite man' is quite literally a veiled autobiographical story about how he figured out that he CAN'T… go around just… TELLING EVERYBODY… that he's MAKING READY FOR THE FINAL JUDGMENT.... because people don't fucking like that and will kill him and put his cult to the sword about it.
that emphatically does not mean that he doesn't still believe in it; it means that he has, in the same way that evangelical christians in real life have, figured out how to code-switch. there's the public face for mixed company where you're friendly and humble and make a concerted effort to live by the virtues of your faith while being open and unapologetic about your religious identity while maintaining a posture of respectful invitation toward everyone else and engaging in meaningful ways with people you personally know to gently encourage them to explore your faith…
…and there's the private face for when it's just you and your fellow true believers and you're talking in intricate detail about how current world events line up with this or that prophesy about the end times. ozpin in public is the mixed-company evangelical to a T. and ozpin in private with people who have been informed of the whole situation re: maidens, relics, salem is like "i am the divinely-ordained champion of the gods and we must stop her from getting her hands on the relics that My Schools were built as fortresses to defend."
in 'the lost fable' these kids literally hear the god of light say with his whole chest that mankind will be found irredeemable and destroyed if they are "unchanged," and they do not even blink. 3.75 volumes spanning months later, they STILL haven't really registered that the god of light holds the view that not a single person alive on the planet RIGHT NOW TODAY deserves to live. why?
because they knew that part already. not the precise detail of ozma being the one who's meant to decide when the world is fit for divine judgment and actively invite the brothers back, but the final judgment and the need for humans to be United when the day of judgment comes lest they be burned to ashes? They Knew That. it is invisible to them except inasmuch as salem embodies, to them, the danger that mankind will be condemned, because it's normal. regardless of their personal religious beliefs or degree of religiosity, they're all familiar with this story to the point that hearing God Himself promise to exterminate everybody didn't even mildly startle them. they knew.
like. fundamentally. the story as-written and the way the characters present in the lost fable do not react whatsoever to the divine ultimatum does not make sense unless every single one of them already knew the story about the dragon-brothers who created the world and then departed and will return to judge humanity's worth, to either reward them with completion or wipe them from existence. and because the kids seem to fall in the zone of irreligious to casually religious the simplest and most likely explanation is that there is a global hegemony of brother-worship, akin to christianity in the west.
taps the sign. and this sign too.
like. in one sense it's a question of your frame of reference and specifically whether you know what deeply religious people are like and how an eschatological religion actually functions in the real world or if your mental model for what this looks like is drawn from, like, pop culture fundamentalist caricatures. i can tell you that the way qrow segues into and tells the brothers creation myth is something i can imagine almost verbatim coming out of the mouths of elders in my parents' church and that ozpin's commentary on the same myth is a point-for-point translation of christian evangelism into his fictional religion. i can tell you that your presupposition that a religious person "finding out" the god(s) they believe in really do exist would feel any kind of surprise or revelation about it is baldly incorrect in a way that leads me to believe you have zero real personal experience with religion or religious people. i can tell you that your presupposition that the secular democratic institutions of government in the kingdoms means there can't be a religious cultural hegemony of brother-worship (or any other religion) is, again, just factually not correct.
but in another and, in many ways, more important sense: rwby is a story about a religious conflict. there are two gods who destroyed the last world and a promised day of judgment that will be ushered in by four divine relics, each guarded by fortresses that act as the central hub for each plot arc, and the overarching narrative conflict is about a power struggle between two people--the immortal agent of rebellion against the gods and the divinely-appointed chosen one tasked with preparing for the final judgment--fighting for control of these relics. that's the plot.
why are you reading scenes where the characters intricately involved in this power struggle talk about religious matters like the existence of gods and divine relics and divinely-ordained tasks as evidence that these characters… aren't religious? why are you reading actual myths that are textually presented as religious stories as… not a religion? why are you looking at a character commanded by God Himself to unite mankind, who in the present day speaks incessantly of the importance of unity and existential threat of division, who annotates the aforementioned explicitly religious myth with an exhortation to act each day as if the gods will return to judge you tomorrow, and concluding that he… is not religious and does not fundamentally believe in any of it?
what do you think a religion is?
and in this story, of all stories--when the central narrative conflict is overtly a war over divine relics left behind by the gods for the sole purpose of bringing about the final day of divine judgment--why in the world is it your baseline assumption that religion is not something that matters very much within the world of the story? why do you take qrow saying "not many people are super religious these days" completely at face value to mean "most people are agnostic/atheist and religion has no cultural relevance whatsoever" even though the next thing out of his mouth is "but these two gods are REAL" and even though, a single volume prior, his colleague said "what we're telling you goes against hundreds of years of human history, religion" and insinuate that consequently the truth would cause uproar and panic to justify keeping the maidens a secret?
i think that ozpin and his inner circle are religious because they speak and act like it and the core purpose of their "brotherhood" (as they call it) is to safeguard the divine relics while they publish religious myths about their gods and talk about how those gods are real and nothing is more important than keeping the divine relics safe. if it acts and looks and quacks like a duck and repeatedly turns to the audience to say that it believes in ducks, i believe it's a duck. i am not going to say "well it complained one time that there aren't a lot of ducks left in the world, so i think it's actually a chicken." that's nonsense.
#but mostly: yeah what.…do you think religion...*is*#if not.#believing that the mythical stories and moral tenets of a religion are true and correct and doing the things god(s) told you to do.
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freak like me
ellie williams x fem!reader
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summary: since you started dating ellie, you always wanted to do something with her. so, when one day, she asks about your favorite fetishes, you decide to show her yourself.
word count: 0.9k
content warning: smut (minors dni), kind of exhibitionism(?, porn with plot, don't know what this is I just had to write it down
You loved your girlfriend. You loved how caring and understanding and kind she was. How she would never judge your actions, and how she always made you laugh.
You also loved how she supported every crazy idea that ran through your mind. But maybe this idea was sick and twisted.
But how could you lie to those pretty eyes? Ellie kept looking at you with a sly grin, cheeks flushed from her previous comment.
"C'mon babe, I already told you mine" she whined, hiding her pouty face in the crook of your neck.
You scoffed, "Ellie, you just said you like being praised while you fuck."
"So? It's still something that turns me on!" You could feel her shy smile hiding beneath your touch. "You need to tell me."
"Nah, I'll pass."
"Come on! Is it really that bad?" She looked at you like a kicked dog, caressing your inner thigh softly.
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see her face because you knew you would surrender. "It's so embarrassing."
"I'm sure I had worse thoughts, try me."
Her cold fingers touching your skin didn't help. At all. After opening your eyes and seeing her soft gaze towards you, you knew you were a goner.
Fuck it.
"I had like this thought about... Us making out on patrol..." Ellie kept her eyes locked on yours, shifting only to see your lips for a second. "While some infected are like... close to us? I-ugh, I don't know, it's fucking weird- I don't know why-"
Ellie's hand stopped right above your belly, making you dizzy. Both of you stayed quiet, but for different reasons.
You were so ashamed of saying that out loud, that you would've gladly died in that exact moment. Ellie, on the other hand, couldn't erase that dirty image from her head.
Neither of you spoke about it anymore, and you thought Ellie might have forgotten about it, but you were so wrong.
The next time you had patrol together was nine days later. Ellie counted them.
The plan was easy: clean infected from a mall close to Jackson. But the auburn had other plans. She'd have time to kill them after.
She promised you not to talk about it any time soon, but it was hard when it was all Ellie could think about.
When you first entered the mall, you killed a few from the first floor. But when you entered the parking, you could sense Ellie's focus was... indistinct, to say the least. On patrol, she was always behind you for security, but you could tell her eyes were definitely not on the possible threats. When you caught her staring at your ass for the second time, you knew this wasn't a coincidence.
"What are you thinking about?" Your funny tone only worsened the redness on her face.
Ellie could not believe how naive you sometimes were. "You should know what I'm thinking about."
Oh.
She smiled at your reaction. "Yeah, you know."
Was she teasing you know?
A clicking sound interrupted your conversation, and Ellie's smile only widened.
"Ellie." You warned, but she didn't notice the alert in your tone. She only noticed the need. She whispered your name back, grabbing your hips and trapped you between her body and the wall of the parking.
"You do remember what you told me the other day, right?" She whispered in your ear, making your legs shake.
You couldn't answer her, even if you really tried. You pushed your thighs harder against each other, almost moaning her name. Ellie whimpered.
"We should focus on the-ahm...the infected..."
Her hand ran lower every breath you took, getting closer and closer where you needed her the most. You kept calling out her name, and just before you close her eyes, you saw a clicker on the end of the hall. Ellie kissed you before you could alert her, and she kept swallowing every cry of pleasure your body echoed. Her knuckle kept brushing your panties as you nodded at her, the pleasure building inside your belly.
You were shamefully wet by the time she lowered your jeans. She laughed with pride at the sight, and looked up at you, her index finger brushing her lips. "You'll need to be quiet f'me, okay?"
You nearly came at the sight. You nodded, and brushed your fingers through her auburn locks. The finger that was just in her mouth brushed your core just the slightest, and you had to cover your mouth, but Ellie was quick to stop your action, shaking her head, “No-huh, baby, you need to keep making those pretty noises f’me.”
Her tongue slid through your cunt repeatedly, as if she was a starved woman. She grabbed roughly your thigh and pushed it above her shoulder, forcing you to keep it there.
A sob left your lips at the sight of Ellie on her knees, her strong arms making your whole body feel like jelly.
If you died here, you would die happy, you thought.
Your clit throbbed when she put the first finger, her eyes not leaving yours. The clicking sounds only made you harder to think about what was happening.
As she whimpered, her other hand between her legs, your walls finally broke down, and Ellie kept watching.
Your head was still numb when Ellie cleaned the corners of her lips, she pushed you gently and helped you put your jeans back, and a glass shattered.
A gasp sounded, and a clicker came running and-
A gunshot. Ellie’s grunt. The clicker fell right to the floor.
“Oh my god.”
“Shit, I think I came too.”
“Fuck off!”
#tlou fanfic#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x reader#tlou#ellie williams x you#tlou ellie#ellie williams smut#ellie x fem reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie x you
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Mrs Fletcher | Prof!Eve Fletcher x Fem!Reader | Chapter Six: Sore Tongue
Summary: Eve shows up to the university with an unexpected change.
A/N: This is probably the longest chapter I've written so far, even though the word count isn't that high. I'm quite proud of myself for posting another chapter so soon after chapter five! Anyway, please enjoy.
Warnings: Implied NSFW, Needles?, Alcohol
Word Count: 2022
AAA Community
Divine Headcanon Generator
Two days after your "date" with Eve, Monday had made its return and you were heading to leave for class. You didn't feel like it, but honestly, you never do. Checking through some of your books, double checking that your diary was on your desk where it should be, you zipped up your bag and grabbed a couple of pens from your desk.
You felt lucky having a single dorm. It could occasionally get lonely, but at the same time, you were free. You could do whatever you wanted without being watched over, and decorated how you wished, hence to why you had a section of your wall dedicated to pictures. You would stand there and look at them often. Your parents, some pictures with Steve, some of your cousins, but you would linger on a picture of you and your ex girlfriend in the middle, Haley, in the dorm you shared in college. You wanted to forget about her, maybe to feel less guilty about everything, but it wasn't easy.
You shook your head, and left the room, walking to your first class: Latin, an extra class you had chosen to take. It wasn't too far from the dorms, luckily enough. As you entered the floor the class was on, Mrs Fletcher suddenly bumped into you as she was coming out from one of the staff bathrooms.
"Mrs Fletcher! Good morning, sorry for bumping into you." You chuckled, looking up at her, wearing that cute pair of glasses you thought suited her face perfectly.
"Hey Y/N," She replied, and her voice sounded a bit strange. As you spoke, you noticed something. You weren't trying to be creepy by taking a glance into her mouth, you just noticed it from the corner of your eye. Your eyes quickly darted back down to look at her mouth once again just before she managed to close it, trying to confirm what you thought you had just noticed. And it fucking was.
"Mrs Fletcher, what's that?"
Her eyes widened, "No'hing?"
"... No way." You gasped. "Mrs Fletcher, open your mouth."
Eve tilted her head downwards, trying to block your view, "Why?"
"You aren't fooling me!"
Eve couldn't help but smirk at you, looking away sheepishly at having been caught.
"You got a fucking tongue piercing."
Eve laughed a little, "hey, 'anguage!" She warned, playfully sticking out her slightly redder and swollen tongue, with a long silver bar. "I got a 'ittle 'ealous of your eye'row." She pointed to your piercing, which you actually forget is there because of how long you've had it. "I wa' fee'ing... rebe'ious. Go' i' done after our coffee. I wa' very swollen yester'ay, I'm jus' surprised I 'an speak a'ready!"
You couldn't help but smile like an idiot, who would've thought that your 45 year old professor would get a tongue piercing, of all things?
"Speak? I'm only just barely understanding you miss. How are you going to teach your classes?" You chuckle, "Are you even allowed to have a tongue piercing?"
Eve grinned, clanking the jewelry against the back of her teeth, "I don' know, an' proba'y not.
"Is that why you said you had somewhere to be on Saturday? You realized you were going to be late for your appointment?" You giggled, looking at her in amusement every time she spoke.
"Yah! I go' there late!" She exclaimed, making you laugh again, a sound Eve actually loved hearing. "I' was very scary, I don' like need'es."
You bit your lip, "That looks so painful though, I didn't take you for someone to do through with a tongue piercing." You joked, making Eve chuckle and nod in response.
As Eve tried to ramble on about how nervous she was, almost oversharing the nervous poop she had beforehand, you cut her off, "I don't want you to irritate it, why don't you tell me all about it tomorrow so you don't accidentally hurt yourself?" You offered, and Eve couldn't help but blush at your consideration. She nodded, poking her tongue out one final time before heading down the hallway.
Well, that just might have been the hottest thing you had seen in a while, and certainly NOT what you expected at 9am on a Monday morning.
Steve sneaked up behind you, attempting to scare you as if you hadn't already noticed him. He frowned in disappointment, and you put your finger to your lips.
"Don't go telling everyone but... If you, hypothetically, had to guess where Mrs Fletcher would choose to get a piercing, where do you think it would be?"
He looked at you in confusion, before smirking. "Definitely, her ni-"
"Don't."
"Fine. I don't know, her nostril or something?" He shrugged, and you shook your head.
"Tongue."
"Ouch, but-" His eyes widened in realization, looking at you for confirmation, "She didn't, there's no way, you're pranking me. I don't know why you'd choose that for a prank, it's a little weird-"
"Steve, I'm not joking."
He looked at you in silence, almost as if contemplating whether to believe you or not. "For real?"
"For real."
He started to laugh, and you joined in. It was so random, and any other person wouldn't believe you. Everyone knows that Mrs Fletcher is innocent (on the outside), and no one would imagine, not even in one hundred years, that she would do something so insane as a tongue piercing, especially since she once shared with one of her classes that she cried at 38 years old because she had to have blood drawn.
"Okay, I got to get to class, we'll talk later." You waved goodbye, and Steve headed into the opposite direction.
The rest of your classes went by pretty smoothly. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, which was unusual. Normally you have to deal with at least one snarky comment or insult a day, whether it be from a classmate, or Mrs Evanora. Before leaving, you popped your head into Eve's open office door.
"See you tomorrow, Mrs Fletcher." You smiled, and she gave you a kind wave, indicating she probably couldn't really speak.
Eve finished her own work about an hour later, and took the drive back to her house, the thought of her bed being very irresistible.
She pulled up outside, and took a few minutes to water her flowers, admiring the rose bush that had started to bloom. She went inside and quickly replaced her work heels with a pair of slippers that were way too big for her.
She made her way to the bathroom, and swished some cold water through her mouth to soothe her tongue, unable to stop checking herself out in the mirror every now and then, making ridiculous poses, fantasizing herself as a tongue model. Wait, did those even exist?
She quickly changed into a gray tank top with some shorts, and got into bed. She opened up her laptop, and couldn't resist browsing online, looking at some things she probably wouldn't want anyone to know she was watching.
Sleep eventually overtook her, as she went into a slumber she so desperately needed, even though her day wasn't as tiring as it sometimes was. And, as if no time at all had passed, she woke up to her alarm blaring into her eardrums.
17:56
'How and when did two hours pass?'
Testing her speech, Eve found herself being able to talk again, to a comprehensible point at least, so after a brief phone call and her voice still groggy, she changed into a bikini with a plain black dress on top to head over to Amanda's house to relax in her jacuzzi for the evening.
Even at the last minute, Amanda was rarely busy in the evenings and was always open to a meet up, even if it's just for a chat. Eve doesn't understand how she does it, but she admires it, a little jealous of her social battery and availability, even.
It was already dark out as she stepped into her car, regretting not taking a jacket beforehand even though it wasn't that cold, but she really couldn't be bothered to go back inside to get one. She started the engine and turned up the heat a little bit, just to warm up the vehicle.
The drive to Amanda's was only around ten minutes, since she didn't live too far away from Eve, making it convenient to have wine nights together. She knocked on the door, pulling her friend into a hug upon greeting each other.
"Come in, mind turning on the jacuzzi? I'll bring us some wine." Amanda grinned, heading into the kitchen. Eve nodded, walking to the balcony window and stepping into Amanda's back yard. Despite the fact that the woman lived alone, her house was quite big, hence the big outdoor space.
Eve looked towards the side of the jacuzzi, and turned it on, watching as the bubbles began to form. She stripped herself from her dress and took off her heels, stepping into the warm bubbly water, letting out a sigh at the warmth which replaced the cold evening air on her skin.
Amanda came outside a few moments later, a bottle of wine, two glasses and a bowl of Cheez Its in her hands. Eve quickly stepped back out to help her, "You're going to drop something!" She mused.
"I don't like having to take multiple trips. If my hands can carry them, I carry them." Amanda replied, smirking, and Eve rolled her eyes as she helped her place everything onto the the jacuzzi wall.
They stepped back in together, and Amanda made a similar sound of pleasure at the warm water.
Anything new at the senior home?" She inquired, and Amanda shrugged,
"Poor Shirley had a fall, which startled Brenda so much she had a heart attack." Amanda sighed, looking almost unfazed.
"That's..." Eve froze, looking up at her friend with wide eyes, "Tragic?"
Amanda laughed, nodding, swaying her hand through the water.
"Why don't you come work full time at the university instead? If you'd prefer?" Eve suggested, sliding over to sit next to her.
"I don't think I'd work full time stocking up the library, the old people are way more interesting. Unless it completely shuts down, I'll stick with part time at the uni." She she shrugged, and the woman next to her nodded in understanding. "Besides, what's going on with that teacher's pet of yours?" Amanda teased, and Eve shoved her.
"Don't say that." She laughed, "But... She might have treated me to a coffee, or well, tried to. I paid for her when she wasn't looking."
Amanda's jaw dropped, setting her wine glass down to cover her mouth. "What?!"
Eve nodded, giggling. "Yeah, I was there with some coworkers and she was having lunch with her friend behind us, and as I was about to leave, she asked me to stay for another drink." She explained further, making Amanda look even more excited with every word.
"Are you living in a book or something?"
"I think I might be."
Amanda smirked at her, moving her arms to rest them on the wall, before wincing.
"Ugh, my hand is still bruised because of you." She groaned, and Eve put her own hands up in defense.
"Hey, you offered!"
"Yeah, to distract you from the pain, you started squeezing the life out of my hand before the needle even reached you!"
"Okay but still, it was so worth it." Eve stuck her tongue out for emphasis, showing off the jewelry.
"The swelling has gone down so much!" Amanda exclaimed in surprise, making Eve nod excitedly.
"Yeah, before you know it, I can change it to that vibrating jewelry I found on Etsy last week-"
"Eve!"
"Sorry!"
Amanda shook her head, sighing, "What did she think of it?"
Eve's cheeks reddened, giving her a smirk. "Oh, she noticed immediately. Before anyone else did. I know I shouldn't have it in the working environment, so I am a little worried now..."
Amanda clicked her tongue, looking towards Eve's mouth again, "Well, if anyone calls you out, say they're a pervert for looking there."
"At my tongue?" She laughed, and the other woman nodded.
"Yes!"
Eve rolled her eyes at her antics, listening as she randomly began to talk about some of the trash she had to clean up at the university library, even though it wasn't part of her job. The night went on, and it didn't take long for the pair of them to become tipsy on a single bottle of wine.
#fics#agatha harkness#kathryn hahn#mrs fletcher#eve fletcher#agatha all along#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#wandavision#kathryn hahn x reader#eve fletcher x reader#mrs fletcher x reader
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❤️ for bedikay!!!!
Ohhhhh, anon, I was foaming at the mouth to do this so thank you so much for suggesting Bedikay!!! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! 😊☺️
❤️ first kiss / realization
Bedwyr shut the door as quietly as he could. Cai's pants filled the room. Each was awash with agony. Moonlight crept through the velvet curtains, limned his slumped shoulders, his crooked posture with silver as he sat on the bed.
Bedwyr took a step forward and inwardly rued his luck as the floorboards shrieked beneath his boots. “Cachu.”
Cai sniffled but did not turn his head. “Wyr?”
“Ay.” He sighed tremulously, crossed the room, and rounded the bed before he dropped to his knees in front of his foster brother, his first and fiercest friend, and took one of his calloused, sword-roughed hands in, squeezing it tightly. “Arth wasn’t thinking.”
A flicker of a smile crossed Cai’s face. His amber eyes were dull, red-rimmed. Bedwyr couldn't help but stare at them though, admiring the flecks of gold and green that glimmered within them. Cai squeezed his hand in response, stroking the back of it.
A coil of heat stirred in Bedwyr's gut as he shuddered a little.
The fire crackled merrily in the grate. Muffled shouts and laughter from the guards changing shifts seeped through one of the open windows. Through the wall he could hear Gwynhwyfar rebuking her husband for his “superbly stupid lambasting” although her voice had taken on the strained, raw quality of somebody on the edge of losing their voice. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. A weight settled between them, a blanket of snowfall that soothed Bedwyr's concern a little even though he kept on clasping Cai's hand.
“He never does,” Cai said bitterly at last, the spell between the breaking. He gently tugged his hand out of Bedwyr's grip and wiped it on his dirtied tunic. Sweat and soil smeared the fine blue brocade although he paid it no heed.
With an uneven breath Bedwyr replied, “Gwyn's had it out with him. She's not happy. That's what you can hear in case you were wondering.”
Cai's lips quivered into a half smile although the wounded look in his eyes still remained. “Good.” He rubbed at his throat and sighed, his gaze flicking downwards to the stripped mats that lined the floor.
Bedwyr swallowed harshly. He could still feel the brand of Cai's touch on his skin, the flame of his body heat rippling through his veins. ‘It - He - He was an idiot. I should've said something. I shouldn't have let him say that. I shouldn't!”
Cai's head snapped up. He held Bedwyr's gaze unflinchingly. “Don't blame yourself. You didn't know he'd come out with that anymore then I.”
But Bedwyr shook his head frantically, a breath catching in his throat. “It wasn't right! And his smug smile after he'd brayed like an ass! I could've beaten him the way you used to when we were teenagers, or flung him over my shoulder and tossed him in the river.”
Cai snorted, the tightness in his shoulders loosening a little. “Gods, I would've paid to see that. Bedwyr Bedrydant hurling our most noble Brenin Mawr into the Afon Ystwyth all because he had the temerity to declare an utterly atrocious englyn.” He chuckled richly, his cheeks dimpling a little as he tried to bite back a smile.
“Wouldn't you?” Bedwyr said at once, raising an eyebrow. "Or do you mean to tell me that Cai Hir would simply let his reputation be tarnished by a simple poem with some of the worst cynghanedd arrangements I've ever had the misfortune to listen to?”
Cai waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I've been privy to them before. Once you've heard him jabber away about where best to place a stress or whatever you get sort of used to it.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled deeply before continuing, “He never did that with you then?”
“No. Never.”
“Huh. Guess he just wanted to make my ears bleed then.”
Bedwyr nodded. “S'pose.”
“Coc o gath,” Cai cursed, reverting back to their old adolescent swear, the one that had filled them with a giddy lightness whenever they spoke it in hushed, cautious whispers around his father's table. His voice blazed the heat of flame to such a degree that it singed the edges off his Gododdin accent.
Bedwyr sniggered. “Cat's cock? Such inelegant language! Don't let Arth hear you, eh, or he'll have steam billowing out of his ears.”
Cai winked, his laughter bouncing off the walls, bright and cheerful. His face glowed with amusement, his veins flickering with copper of flame, while his smile widened, becoming that same boyish uptick as it had when he’d been fourteen and raring to be in the thick of battle.
At that Bedwyr's chest tightened. His heart spasmed wildly.
“For that alone I'd batter him to death, dragon-blooded king or no,” Cai carried on, paying no attention to his friend's far away expression. “Provided Gwyn allowed me to, of course.”
“Of course,” Bedwyr quickly agreed as he shifted a little to get some feeling back into his leaden limbs, holding Cai's gaze again.
Cai tugged him upright, lightly resting his hands around Bedwyr's waist so that he didn't lose his balance. His hands blazed with warmth, positively sweltered with it, and Bedwyr gulped as he caught his eye.
“Do you remember when we were smaller and played at being Bendigeidfran and Matholwch atop the mountains? And Arthur always insisted that he was Efnisien come to cause more harm than good?”
Bedwyr nodded. His throat tightened around a cry, a wail. Something hot and heavy crushed his chest. “He skulked about muttering about his horses and you and he would always fight.”
Cai smiled wryly. “He was lucky it didn't devolve into real blows half the time.” He fiddled with the torc around his neck, the metal throwing golden sparks across the tapestried walls.
“Uh huh.” Bedwyr hums. And he always insisted we ‘quest’ for the most asinine things. Just roam around your father's caer as though we were magpies searching for gold. All we found were half-tarnished firedogs and your sister's old hairbrush.”
Cai's face crumpled and, for a brief moment, Bedwyr thought he'd said the wrong thing. But then his shoulders started to shake and a burst of raspy laughter left him. “Wyr,” he breathed, his breath ghosting over Bedwyr's skin in a hot, fennel-scented cloud. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you were rather annoyed at our dearest High King and Battle Lord. That's my job.”
Bedwyr scrubbed a hand through his hair, his cheeks flushing hotly. “I just… Even now he forgets how important you are.”
“Then let him do so.” Cai said, his hands cupping Bedwyr’s cheeks. His thumbs stroked the greying stubble that peppered his jaw and Bedwyr found the sensation oddly pleasurable. “I only need one person's acknowledgement in this court, you know.”
Bedwyr frowned. His chest thumped wildly against his ribcage. Blood pounded in his ears as loud as a carnyx and he blinked bewilderedly.
And all the while Cai was staring.
Waiting.
His voice cracked, “I don’t-”
“Don't what?” Cai murmured, staring at him intently. “It's you, Wyr. Always. Ever since you first came to my father's court it was you. I looked at this lanky streak of piss-”
Bedwyr threw back his head and cackled.
“What?” Cai said, his brow furrowed in befuddlement. “I'm serious! I did! And you were lanky, you can't deny that! Why else d'you think you were Rhiannon whenever we played out her run-ins with Pwyll and Gwawl?”
“I wasn't lanky,” he replied through his tears. “I was gangly. There's a difference. I had twig limbs, alright. I was growing into my frame, as Lady Eigyr might've said.”
Cai smacked the stump of his right arm. Bedwyr reached over with his left and whacked him back. “Course you were. That's as good as an excuse and I've heard plenty from Arth over the years. His one for the englyn-”
“Now you'll have steam coming out of your ears.” Bedwyr interjected quickly before Cai went on a rant about Arthur's lack of decency.
And then, without thinking, he pressed his lips to Cai's.
He stiffened up instantly, his eyes bulging. His hands flexed by his side, his veins flaming amber. Bedwyr's heart stuttered in his chest as he pulled away, a frantic apology bubbling on the tip of his tongue.
Yet… Cai laughed.
It crackled through the air, nestled deep in Bedwyr’s chest, eased the violent clamour of blood in his head. A bonfire of relief.
“Oh,” Cai said in an odd voice, his dark eyes smouldering. “I never thought you'd do that!”
Bedwyr chuckled half-hysterically. “I - I -”
Cai's lips quirked into an ecstatic grin. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Bedsyr's again in a kiss that was as sure and as certain as he was. Fire lingered on his lips. His hands slid to cup the back of Bedwyr's head, gently stroking through his dark curls in such a way that Bedwyr hummed happily, his eyes fluttering shut.
And oh, this felt nice.
The tightness in his chest receded a little. Bedwyr melted when Cai deepened the kiss, cupping his friend’s - no, his… cariad's - burning cheek with his one good hand. His head whirled. The sweetness of mountain air muddled his senses, and something warmer, smokier, intrinsically Cai.
They stayed like that for a few moments longer, exchanging sweeter, lazier kisses while Cai's fierce warmth eddied into Bedwyr's very bones before gently pulling apart, a string of spit connecting them. With a start - and through the lightheaded fogginess of his thoughts - Bedwyr realised Cai's hands were still cupping his head, his fingers stroking through his hair until Bedwyr purred. Their breathing came in fast, frantic pants.
Their eyes met and Bedwyr laughed. “Come to bed?”
Cai's throat bobbed. He uttered a little high-pitched giggle, the flush on his cheeks deepening to match the blood beneath his fingernails. “I-”
“If Arthur says anything I'll deal with him.” Bedwyr hurriedly said. “But… please?”
“I'm not worried about that. I just…” Cai took a deep breath. “When did you know?”
“Eh?”
“When did you know?” He repeated, his voice scratchy. “That you loved me?”
“I… When you stalked away after the englyn. That's when I truly knew. Flames were licking at your feet, setting the undergrowth alight, and I thought, ‘Oh.’”
Cai grinned, showing a flash of teeth. “‘Oh?’ Is that all?”
“Cai, paid y geg. I knew then because I could've punched Arth and felt no remorse if I lost his friendship, but - but I didn’t want to lose you.”
“My friendship?” Cai arched one dark eye eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“No,” Bedwyr burst out. “I mean, uh, yes, but - but just you. Everything about you.”
Cai said, “Oh.” And then gently took Bedwyr’s hand in his and kissed it, brushing his lips over the faded scar etched into his palm, before he gently dropped a kiss on the stump of his arm. “And then you hared it back here -”
“Had to, lest you try and murder our King where he slept. But I heard you crying instead and I-” Bedwyr took a shaky breath, tears pricking his eyes. “I didn’t like it. You were like a lamed animal.”
“I’m grateful. I think I would've at that moment, regicide be damned.” Cai said, nibbling his lip, the tips of his ears flushing with embarrassment. He sighed softly, tangling their fingers together.
Bedwyr squeezed back.
#arthuriana#welsh mythology#the mabinogion#arthurian legend#welsh myth#king arthur#mabinogion#arthurian legends#welsh folklore#bedikay#sir kay#sir bedivere#anon i hope u enjoy this!#sir kay x sir bedivere#bedwyr bedrydant#cai ap cynyr
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Oh hey, no. Don't do that. Please.
This is a bit of a read but I've spent a long time thinking and editing, and I'm saying this all gently but seriously.
I imagine the above was NOT intentionally said to prick anyone's emotions, but this kind of comment on Rare Omens prompts is like saying it about any of them. It reminds me that so many of these pairs are only tolerated at best by the majority of folks in the fandom. (Every one of these prompts has people who don't like or even actively hate them. Take a look at the prompt list in our pinned post, and marvel at that statement but know it to be true.)
This prompt month event has a "don't like? ignore it and move on" policy. Trust me from experience with my own rare ships: we hear the disgust or hate enough, we know others aren't into it.
If you don't like something, that's okay! If you want to talk about not liking it, that's also okay. BUT PLEASE don't reply to people who are clearly having their fun in a post. It's not necessary and it only makes people feel badly to see it directly in the notifs. It only digs away at feeling welcome to whatever we get from enjoying a pair (or OT3, or polycule, etc). And that can lead to feeling unwelcome in the wider fandom the rest of the time... which is absolutely devastating to feel.
You can post separately and start a conversation to find people who feel similarly if you feel strongly and want to have those conversations—though hating on rare pairs/characters is common and such posts are probably not necessary. Anyone doing so: please DO NOT TAG a ship in your tags when hating on it. Bc the people most likely searching that tag? They DO like it, and don't need to wade through a bunch of negative comments to find fellow fans.
I started Rare Omens bc it was hard to find transformative works for ships I liked (be it as a couple or ANY OTHER way you can pair characters up—as a reminder: it doesn't have to be NSFW; it doesn't have to be SFW either of course). I wanted to find other people who enjoyed what I enjoyed. And to help people experiment with making stories and art they otherwise might never have thought about. And it has gone really well! I've seen NSFW ships, and friend ships, and respected enemies, hated enemies, and AUs of all shapes. Participants over the years have mentioned that they never would've thought to try writing certain characters in stories or draw them off on adventures. THAT, I love. We know there's ever anyone out there excited for their faves and waiting for it.
I also want to say...
I saw this reply earlier today but I was out at a showing of Macbeth where I made the acquaintance of a bunch of Good Omens fans (ranging in age from 20s to 60s at a guess). One of them even cosplays Metatron, and their Crowley and Aziraphale showed pics. It was real fun to see them include a rarer character in their cosplay group. I didn't have a chance to reply to this until now, and I'm glad I waited. I'm thinking about that cosplayer too: it can be disheartening to see "your" rare character excluded from the fun of transformative works.
Right. All this to say:
Please be kind to your fellow fans, even when they're playing with the dolls in ways you would never.
We don't have to force ourselves to like anything or interact with it (in fact: don't interact, talk privately to your friends who understand), but we gotta let people have their sandbox too. Because if we're excluding our weirdest and wildest takes, the most gloriously crackfic pairings possible, then we're not safe for anyone. We're not transforming anything.
Ship and let ship.
Thank you.
[UPDATE] Docdust and I have chatted. They've adjusted their comment. They are friends with the others and meant it in a positive way. So new addendum 😅: inside jokes outside our groups can be seen by others who might not know our history or what we're doing with RP.
I'm glad no one was really hating on a pair. And I'm equally glad to have Rare Omens' stance on it all written out here. Thank you all for continuing to be supportive of each other!
It’s Rare Omens 2025 Day 4
Aziraphale and Metatron!
Are the Guardian and the Voice lovers, enemies, siblings, friends, work colleagues? Share your prompt fills of the Guardian and the Voice and tag us.
You can also post to the **AO3 collection** Rare_Omens, which we'll check regularly throughout the prompt month.
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Common characteristics for each characters' iteration (when they act differently). And how I connect them, personality-wise.
I seem to think about how I tie the every-tmnt-iteration (past and present) characters in a way that each one won't be OOC (out of character) from another. A justification theories and all.
I did for Leo.
Now I'll do for R and a bit for the M-guy.
In 2003 R was pissy and had a foggy head when pushed too much (agitated, purposefully angered, or neglected might be). M's favorite pastime was to come and bother him, on purpose. Making him angry, knowingly.
You know for M it might be nice for him to have as much of a hyper friend like him as not to disturb and bother his bros. He tries to be positive and pass his time by trolling and being kind of mean to his bros. Esp to Raph when he (emotionaly) wears out quickly.
R has a thick shell like he doesn't really wanna allow anyone unless they know they are genuinelynice. He also likes to pride by achievements (fights perhaps) also has an ego but is defensive for his ego. While Mikey is on the way and playing with it. You know like bothering a tame dragon. On purpose. Like a purposeful d.
R would be glad to have smb to be secure and tame with (not nessessarily a love interest). Like Peter Parker when he goes to Mary Jane (her character majorly lacking, she sucks, clearly writers had no idea with her, who she iswhat her life was that kind of stuff). He goes to her after a very rough day, beatings, struggles, villains, flying etc. But R is stuck with himself. Almost everyone is emotionally stunted, D doesn't have to deal with psychological stuff, he has a hobby, M is a jerk and L seems to like to order around (maybe he doesn't like, depends. When he cant help himself that's when). He might need to meet and talk to a pyichatrist that would be nice. (Imagine the setting)
He is stuck with himself. He and his emotions.
And the bravery. He needs to remind himself to get a hold of himself. Maybe. He doesn't like ... maybe he thinks he has no personality, a monster-freak. He is passionate and ready to fight anyone that gets in the way of their group, but sadly M uses that care and push in order to run against, offender attempts against him. M is a jerk but he wants to stay positive (could be insecure too, why not) and that could mean he can do it on account of his bros. Could be gluttonous and take away kept food without warning.
Everybody is emotionally detached and hurt, and has a "?"sign about many things about themsleves (L is identity, R is his feels that he pretends he doesn'thave and D is focusing on his hobbies and tries to ignore pesky "?"s: depression and clingy thoughts maybe he is a faithful person(there's smth that keeps him gentle is it the TV series? Is it the faith in himself that he can change (life, make it more appealing and comfortable) and play as a benefit to their closed ones?)).
And M needs to have fun(be positive) in a mean way. Like a mosquito.
Edit: my HC for why Rise Mikey is tame. The 3 Brothers have been alright that M is in a position of "being taken care of, fave child and loved" from the 3. While '03 M was super bothersome because 4 were basically equal. So he was less about "being fave and more loved child" part and "parents being more attentive to him and his emotional needs", rather than he is one of tmnt and even viewed more of a slacker and a bothersome bro, rather than someone doing smth worthy and useful for the day. In Rise they came to the consensus and understanding about M. He also needs to be careful because now he has 3 more "parents", who have their own vision for how he needs to be brought up. Maybe beaten up too, a bit abused 🤔 🤷
M is self-serving, while D is detached (has passions and interests that make him feel better accomplishing).
#Tmnt#I've noticed that Ms are not developed#In Rise he has a youngest bro role (ironically people complained about L being just a leader and not knowing much more of him heh#nevermind)#And I also haven't talked about M too.#Leo lives with a code for not to fear and cry and all#As much as he pleases the status quo the further he is away for knowing or understanding who he is suppose to be at the core#as a person#Dysfunctional yet protective family#They might tear each other apart with that row personality and identity.#No empathy just Mikey#Like Genji says 'I need healing'#How can you be affectionate with smb so much that you are bothersome#Who can fathom#D might think bros are cruel and enjoy being one#one of them would've said I don't and you don't know me#Could he (said that and not know them)?#He is generally sheltered but not from his bros who he hangs out the most.#Edit: D is living with dumdums who are sorta dipshit to each other if he stays with them longer he will go and feel apeshit#so he goes to his own corner and do smth useful creating and making stuff (he can be sassy and on point too)#R is very soft and stable when not agitated L and D know#negative energy can ruin a person (D and his bros live in a vacuum they should consider talking#to understand each other more)#Rise R would hug '03 R 🫂#Edit: tmnt rise could get partners with 50% gender ratio#Meaning (like Shredders revenge character introduction order; Karai and Casey Jr were incorporated as a family so Usagi Mona and Mondo wher#they stand) Mikey and Mondo; Leo with Usagi and they are gay; Raph with a reptile maybe a female ('maybe' because since the previous show#makers won't like to shoehorn females into male turtle's crush category; a male gaze); and who's left; with D (who I have mixed with '03 D)#it is hard to tell if he would like to deal with the 4th mentally ill person in his life (an Angel alternative)#but he had really enjoyed dancing and sharing a moment with his idol Atomic Lass even though the character was a costume
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i'm having hyperfixation drought so i did what i did best and created a crossover episode
#trafficblr#life series#hermitcraft#qsmp#the drought's been crazy i had to make qsmp x life series/hermitcraft you don't understand i literally had to#i literally cannot tag all of the cubitos without going over the limit so i'm gonna use them to rant about these doodles instead#when i tell you that i think dl!pearl would've loved tilín i'm telling you i think she would've LOVED them like.#something about just wanting to find love at every turn but feeling unwanted spdihgpisadhfpa. and also tilín's name is similar to tilly LOL#the jelly egg is just like if the double life jelly pandas were just an egg that scar loves with all his heart and grian reluctantly accept#i think out of all the duos in qsmp. the one i would want to see in the dl soumate premise the most is slimeriana. it's the dysfunctionalit#i made a post in the past about pac and tango being my fav cubitos bcs they were both crazy cartoonish and like scientists#but it kinda felt like a disservice to leave mike and zedaph out because to me they're argubly crazier and more cartoonish#missa and tim are paired bcs i just really wanted an excuse to draw the wet cats and it just so happened they both have relations to death#skizz and jaiden as the lawyers who were SHOCKINGLY good at their jobs like they cooked with that one#(was also gonna draw joe and roier as bad lawyers but i was running outta steam)#someone's already made a post about grian and (el) quackity and their eye entities so not much elaboration needed there#fit and etho just give the same vibe to be as a dude who has a reputation and is well-known and seems intimidating#i also made fit's arms way too skinny and i don't like it...but i'm not gonna go back and change it now i spent embarassingly long on this#but then his silliness is brought out by The Narrative#foolish and bdubs is one of my favorite drawings because i just knew i wanted to highlight the silly height difference#just realized they're also both god-like figures at least at some point#cellbit and rendog. cat and dog and lore. enough said about their connection.#i couldn't decide who fit etoiles combat hungry anime protagonist vibe best bcs martyn was originally paired with him#but i wanted martyn with phil so i went with my second options: joel and gem#i couldn't draw them mid rage but essentially the title is derived from “WHO KILLED EMPANADA” and “do me a favor. die for me.”#philza minecraft and martyn inthelittlewood. they feel like twins but one is evil (it's martyn)#SOMETHING I FORGOT THAT I WISH I ADDED: BBH AND BIGB AS THE ENTITIES WHO LIE. I HATE MYSELF HOW COULD I FORGET THAT#if i were to pair impulse with someone it would be tubbo? either him or scar would've been with tubbo#and then lizzie i just did not know who i wanted to pair her with. no one really does it like her in my opinion#scott's someone i also had no idea who to put him with he's just so...him...
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fellas it has been three months since the beach episode and thinking about neil and eva in any capacity still makes me ILL
#the beach episode came out right after i lost someone very dear to me so it hit extra hard#every line of dialogue in that final scene cut to my core#it's not even just neil's death for me#it's the way he pushed away his father and his friends and his literal soulmate in both a platonic and a romantic sense all his life#in order to avoid hurting them when he passed and in the process ended up hurting them way more bc if they'd been close#they'd at least have memories with him to look back on when they missed him and could find comfort in said memories#but bc he never let people get close to him he left his loved ones with nothing to remember him by except for the way he distanced himself#HE AND EVA COULD'VE LIVED A HAPPY LIFE TOGETHER#EVEN IF THEY DIDN'T END UP DATING THEY COULD'VE MADE BEAUTIFUL MEMORIES TOGETHER AND BEEN EVEN CLOSER IF HE HADN'T BEEN AN IDIOT#THEY. COULD'VE. HAD. THEIR. GARDEN.#and sure there's many messages meant to be taken away from their story and it was always meant to end tragically#but that doesn't mean i have to be content about it#PRESS ESC TO LEAVE???? WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT ENOUGH#idk man. would this have emotionally scarred me this much if i hadn't been (and still am ofc) grieving irl? maybe not.#but i was and we'll never know the answer to that question#what hurts more is i played all the other ttm games before my loved one died#and you know what one of my very last memories of him was?#him hanging out with our family in our living room while i showed my sister the first ttm game#so yeah i think these games are gonna haunt me forever. fun.#i mean i think they would've anyway#you can't play a game series with an overarching storyline this intricately woven and music this good and characters this complex#and then NOT think about it forever#anyway i like these games a lot#they impacted me more than any piece of fiction ever has and as someone whose whole personality revolves around stories that's saying A LOT#to the moon#ttm beach episode#rosawatts
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I don't like the way you guys talk about Palestinians asking for donations. I don't like it.
I had to see someone make MULTIPLE posts bitching and moaning about how people need to stop sending them asks asking for them to reblog their donation posts, that they'd just be blocking them from now on, and that they didn't care if they were vetted because they still found the act of sending asks to get reblogs on their donation links suspicious, even if they were in a dire situation. They even went as far as to say that they got an ask, deleted it, and then they got another ask from the same person, and accused the person of sending another ask to purposefully "get under their skin"
I don't know man, have you considered that being a victim of ongoing genocide will make you ask for help in whatever way you can? And sometimes that involves sending random blogs asks to see if they can donate or at the very least share your donation links? A Palestinian reaches out to you multiple times because they need help and your response is to whine about getting donation links in your inbox? I wish I had your problems
Also the thing about "getting the exact same ask from the exact same blog multiple times"... uh, duh? First of all, they're probably reaching out to dozens of blogs daily, do you think they're gonna type up a new paragraph for each blog they reach out to? Second of all, maybe they reached out to you multiple times because a. They really really really need the help and b. What, do you think they're gonna see your URL/blog and be like "oh! I already reached out to this blog, I'm not gonna send them another ask"? Or do you think they'll be like "this person has been reblogging other people's donation posts, maybe they'll reblog mine too"?
Like I understand being suspicious about getting sent donation links to your inbox, but literally all you have to do is check if the blog's been vetted by other bloggers? It's as easy as searching for their URL on tumblr sometimes, it literally takes less than a minute or two. And that's what bothers you? That's what you're complaining about? Find a real problem!!!
#if you recognize the person i'm specifically talking about in this post please don't harass them but i got SO angry when i saw their posts#last night they made a post saying that a scammer reached out to them so i looked up the 'scammer's' url and they were vetted by more than#one blogger so i commented on their post to let them know that#and today i remembered that and was wondering if they saw my comment so i went to their blog and found they deleted the post and instead#made like four posts about what i just described. what the actual fuck is wrong with some of you people. get a real problem oh my god!!!#i'm not mad about them deleting their original post btw i'm mad about the other shit they posted#if they had. idk. been nice in their posts i mayyybe would've let it slide but no they were FUMING they were so mad. that's what really#upset me. like genuinely how dare you#it's really not that hard to check if the blog that reached out to you is a scam or not. like literally palestinian bloggers on this site#have been working day and night to let us know which blogs are real and which aren't. donate to the fundraisers share them and get a real#problem or shut the fuck up about donations for the rest of your life#palestine#free palestine#cat rambles#i said this on discord but decided i wanted to talk about it here too so i reworded a bit of what i said on discord but it's mostly the same
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It's been rolling around in my brain the last few days for some reason, but I still hate the family backstory reveals for Sophie and Eliot. I've seen some of the meta for it, but quite frankly, it still makes no sense. If it had been something actually thought of and intentional in the original, I think it could have been so fascinating. I mean, Sophie's willing abandonment of Astrid to contrast with Nate's loss of Sam or Eliot's adoption in contrast with Hardison's and Parker's? Could have been excellent! But they came out of nowhere in Redemption and don't work with these characters.
Sophie was still actively using the fucking alias that she met Astrid under! She met with someone from her past on the show! Like. Quite frankly, that one is unequivocally bullshit that they made up and threw in and pretended could fit with the established canon. (And I'm sorry, but the idea of Sophie abandoning Astrid and never telling Nate about her just... So much of Nate's trauma was rooted in the loss of Sam, and I think that introducing this element after he's gone and unable to respond to it taints Sophie and Nate's relationship in a way bc I'm not exactly sure how Nate would've responded to learning about this but I think that it's something he'd have needed to know. I don't know how to fully express my thoughts on that but yeah.)
As for Eliot, I don't like the adoption aspect literally at all. The way that he would interact with his family and the memory of his family would be different, and I think that it's flat out ridiculous to think that he'd have never mentioned it to the team in the original show, especially when dealing with the kid cases. (I also dislike the biracial adoption as its own element because if Eliot was actually raised by Black parents in the... idk what 80s/90s? That just. doesn't feel congruent with how they write Eliot interacting with PoC, not necessarily in a bad way, but babe, he's written like a white southern man raised in a specific kind of culture that does not jell with that. It also makes Eliot look... really bad that he was apparently raised with the knowledge of how fucked up the military was and his parents' history and made the choices that he did.) Like the show may not have explicitly stated it but the implication of that relationship was vastly fucking different throughout the original show.
Just. These were not backstories that were congruent with their depiction and characters in the original show, and they're also just moves that I don't particularly like or find interesting directions for those characters. There's also something to be said about how it was apparently unacceptable for a woman to not have kids or someone not reconciling with their biological family when that was something that the original show handled a lot better. Out of all the directions to take Sophie and Eliot's stories, that's just not really one that I think was a good idea.
#i'm not sure if i worded this v well tbh which concerns me#bc like. like i said i dont like the adoption plot anyways but part of my problem with that storyline IS that billy is black#bc i don't think that the way eliot is written makes sense if he was raised by a black couple during that decade#bc the way that he would have engaged with his family and community and the world around him would've been different#especially bc he was raised in the fucking south in the 80s#bc i dont think eliot was ever racist in the original show but i dont think that he really knew#how it was different for poc in certain ways that dont make sense if he was raised by a black couple#like the previous implications of his childhood and specifically his father were v much in the stereotypical v pro military be a man cultur#that culture is also v rooted in toxic masculinity and whiteness#God i hope that makes sense bc i feel like that sounds v bad#but i'd love more black characters on the show and i think that for pretty much any other mc that'd have been fine#it's specifically eliot with the space that he occupies that i feel like it's a problem with his backstory#which also is why i dont like that he's adopted at all bc that's an influential part in how you first view your place and family and all th#that i dont think makes sense with eliot's character. like literally nothing about that reveal really feels like it makes sense with eliot#and to move over to sophie for a second i feel like bringing up the abandoned stepdaughter would have been pretty damn important#when sophie was struggling with the idea of who she really was beneath the aliases and the grift#and especially when she's in a relationship with nate who WAS a father like#and that she used the charlotte alias to meet with someone from her past but there wasnt anything about the fallout#which still makes no fricking sense either way#also insert something about sophie being an older woman without kids#(i know there's the ot3 but they're not actually in a position as her kids bc theyre still equals in a sense)#and needing to actually go no no she was a mom! and then bailed and did all this and blah blah but she's always been a mom in her heart <3#and adding in this relationship as if an older woman cant be satisfied or complete without kids#and i know that ppl might bring up parker but like lbr parker is positioned in a v different space narratively than sophie#ofc parker doesn't have kids she's positioned in a space as the Odd one the kinda broken one#her defying the expectations narratively doesnt necessarily work the same bc of her place#idk i kinda hope these dont end up in the main tags bc idk how ppl will respond nor how well i actually got across my points#but i do wanna tag them for my blog so#leverage#sophie devereaux
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Hehe, you flatter me!!!
Yes! This is low-key Error's first real introduction to tye plot as of now, so I had to re-establish his behavior a little! He's like... obnoxiously happy to share his stuff, all the time, and it shows!!
And ough, I'm so so glad the vibes played out there because that's exactly the energy I was going for with the food, haha! (He's suddenly in a very secure and safe location, feeling good about himself, and has very little worries? AND he doesn't have to eat Geno's bad cooking? He'll yeag 🙏)
Yes! At first I was going to have him overreact, but Error has seen a LOT of weird stuff in his life, and heard a lot of stories, and frankly Nightmare's new look didn't strike him as an issue. (And if it *was* something he wasn't supposed to see. Well. He was decent at playing off those encounters too lol-)
I wasn't sure how intense I wanted to go with his reaction, so I went with the gut feeling of 'oh, that's not good'. Because like. Geno used to tell Error all sorts of horror stories from magic mishaps from his school, or in the market, or from the past. The academy had certain magic studies banned for those reasons too. And. Idk how much I want to focus on it. But Geno didn't always have that giant wound in his skull. I almost like to think that what made him the way he is now was him playing around with altering his magic typing.
I'm thinking that back before even Fresh was around, Geno had realized that his magic could be stronger if he just learned to use other magic, like humans could. Amd the way he sees magic like gems? He'd cobble together haphazard crystals, each one with a different make-up, texture, and ofc spell behind them. They were unrefined, and not clean. And then it occurred to him that Diamonds reflect all the colors! So maybe... and yeah, I think this idiot baby boy tried to make a spell with all the magic types fused into one, but obviously he was just a little guy! The strain on his developing soul was too much and he burnt out his right eyelight. His soul, already about half a normal soul, crystallized and chucked away, leaving him with his soul 'shard'.
And Error doesn't know the full story, but Geno had warned him away from playing with different magic types when he was alone. (BTW Geno did end up figuring out how to make crystals. They just require an ungodly amount of patience and perfect concentration for like. Several days. Pressure all at once backfires, slowly applied pressure works wonders.)
Sorry, sidetracked! But yes! Error knows that it's not good, abd that it hurts, and the he doesn't like it! But it's not his place to step in because Night's not doing it alone, and he assumes there must be good reason if someone like Ccino isn't stopping him. (When Nightmare literally told no one how much it hurts abd strains him so they just don't know lmao-)
Hehehe!!!! I took a page put of you bookeith that section! I wanted to delve a bit deeper into how Error sees his magic, abd like you said, he needed to try it out himself to try and understand! I feel like Error's always a hands-on learner, and when words fail him, physical things won't!
And yeag. I think the house was usually pretty empty, but when Geno came home for breaks he'd fill a shelf with his books to study. And Error isn't a book guy, but a skim would've been more helpful than his current nothingburger worth of knowledge lol!
!!!!! I genuinely could not come up with a way to present the vibes Error had but! Yes!! He saw Nightmare frfr being just like him. Someone talented, someone special in a way people weren't prepared for (bro does NOT get that Night actually has -3 intelligence coming to Magic now) and he's thrilled! Another person in the same boat as him!
Yes, the offer! Technically, Nightmare already offered for Ccino to leave. (I don't think he ever asks the Knights directly, but he hints at it. Those first few missions after his change being solo ones, a chance to run) but Error is the first person he believes might take it. He could go anywhere, Night would sponsor him, and it would be easy as that. But Night forgets that Error is opinionated. (And stubborn, and he hates drastic change.) Error made his choice that a day to become a Mage. He broke rules to get here, he sat through Night's lectures to get here! He's not just giving that all up now! Protection is never something he believes he needs, he's the danger to everyone else, frankly. He's staying whether the King likes it or not!!!
And yeag!! Nightmare was scared! He had spiraled after Error fled his office and was sure that Error would run away, or hate him, or (worst of all) decide to rebel. Despite Ccino calming him down, he was sure Error was going to leave. Nightmare thought he was going to fail Error. But! When Error so stubbornly claimed loyalty, Nightmare couldn't help but cry! He was an emotional kid before, he's one now. And Error! He's not used to people crying (not like Fresh or Geno did much of it) but he used to get comforted by Geno a lot when he'd come back from market or school and get so mad he would cry. And Geno used to tell him it was alright, relate to it. So Error does the same here! (<- Geno was emotionally constipated about romance, but he's got brothering down to an art!)
The balcony!!! That stupid lil fireworks gun was going to be my final scene whether I wanted it to be or not! Error made something entirely for fun for once, and it was to be thoughtful towards the king! The King he didn't even know was young again! And he shut his trap for once to just enjoy tye silence. Not many people can get him to do that haha!
New Age AU Drabble (Lonely)
Hello everyone!! Welcome to the next drabble I swore I was going to write! This one I'm very fond of, because it involves the two who kickstarted this whole thing, the King and his Royal Mage (in-training)-
This happens some time after Nightmare's reversal to his new age, so it's basically the next one in chronological order for the main story drabbles!
@ancha-aus @mutzelputz @papiliovolens Hi guys!! Welcome back :)
Ping
Error glanced up from his project when the little tingle of his magic blinked into his awareness. Someone’s outside? He looked over at the heavy door that separated the cool space of his study from the stairs which led down to the main floors of the castle. On his end, it was absolutely tangled in blue wires, like his own little spider web. Though, to be fair, the rest of the room wasn’t faring much better. He’d certainly taken the chance to make the space his. The king had told him to, after all! Much better than the tidy room his brothers always made him help clean…
Blue strings lashed out from the ceiling and wrapped around his current project, wrapping securely around it before tugging it, his knitting needles, and the notes he had scattered all up into the loft space shrouded in shadow above him. It was just a lot safer to keep all his projects up there, out of his way until he needed them. Out of sight of his rare visitors. He couldn’t show them something that wasn’t ready! That would be embarrassing! Not Royal Wizard behavior at all.
As his project rose, Error rolled onto his back, popping his spine before making an effor to stand up himself. How long had he been laying there? Normally he’d have been up in one of his hammocks, but this project required he keep it level until a later step, so he’d decided that the soft rug on the floor and a few blankets would have to suffice. Had it been an hour or two? Knowing him, probably much longer. He didn’t like pulling back the curtains, his strings didn’t glow in the darkness if he did. Infusing magic worked a lot easier for him in the dark.
He glanced to the door again. Thirty seconds and there hadn’t been any more pings? It had to be someone he actually halfway wanted to see, then. Darn.
Error crossed the space, stepping over a few loose supplies, and around a few of his hanging strings, until he came to the door. As much as he wished he could ignore this person, he knew better. So, he gripped the solid iron handle and swung the door inwards towards him.
Stood outside on the landing of the stairs was Sir Dust.
He wasn’t an unwelcome sight, but he definitely wasn’t an expected one either. Lately, it’d been that Ccino guy showing up to his door unannounced, bringing him meals or just checking in on him. Sir Dust had been there the day he was hired, the knight doing his best to encourage Error to not make stupid, rash choices. Fortunately, given that chance to think, Error had been able to return with a smart and rash choice instead! Which, might he add, landed him this sweet gig for royalty. That was why, when Dust came around, Error didn’t turn him away. His magic was powerful, and despite being small, he was really cool.
“Error.” Sir Dust greeted. “Brought dinner. Ccino’s been busy.”
Sir Dust was always blunt. Even that first day they met, when he’d spoken more than a few words he’d seemed strained. Uncomfortable. He was comfortable here in his home territory.
And, he wasn’t lying! Error hadn’t even noticed it, but when he looked down, his eyelights honed in on the plate held easily in one of Dust’s hands, and a jug held in the other to his side.
Error was quick to lean out the doorway with a grin and snatch up the plate, careful not to make contact with Dust’s hands. He’d abandoned his glasses somewhere behind him in the room, so he had to raise the plate closer to his face before he recognized the contents.
“Noodles, sweet!” He half-whispered to himself.
His hand moved, gesturing out towards Dust. More of his strings shot past, from somewhere in the room, and clutched the jug before tugging it back inside with a flick of Error’s free hand.
“Ccino told me to tell you: Drink that water. You’ll get dehydrated.” Dust voiced, watching unbothered as the jug was tugged back and out of his view.
Error glanced up at him, and scoffed. Ccino had been doing his best to get Error to drink more tea with him because tea had water. Error was fine! He didn’t need as much water or food as an average monster, it was normal! Besides, he’d forget about it anyways.
“Okay. Thanks!” he said anyways. Though, it was mostly thanks for the food. Error loved when Ccino made noodles. They were always buttery, and Error wasn’t sure how he always made something that looked so bland taste so good. …Now his mouth was watering. Maybe he was a little hungry after all.
Error waited for Dust to start making his decent back down the stairs, but when he saw the monster was still stood still and quiet, he raised a brow. Was there something else? Had to be. He hoped Dust didn’t want inside. Error had all the plans to devour this food and then dive headfirst back into his project. He didn’t want to be distracted.
“One more message.” Dust said, watching Error. His white eyelights were clear under his hood. Error didn’t think he was wearing his mask, but even with the soft glow from his web of strings he couldn’t tell in the shadows. Didn’t matter to him either way.
“King Nightmare’s rescheduling your next… report.” Dust said plainly.
At that, Error felt his soul stop a bit in his chest. “Why?” He asked without thinking. The King had been listening and seemed interested during his last report! He’d made a lot of progress since then too, finished one of them enough that they could test it! The King had said he was excited to see it! Surely he hadn’t been tossed aside so quickly?
Dust seemed unphased by his demand of an answer.
“The King is just taking time to rest. Last project wore him out.” Dust explained, before he added, “Ccino’s orders. Like drinking your water.”
Error couldn’t tell, not really, but he was pretty sure the knight was grinning at that last part. Ha ha, very funny. Though, he wasn’t wrong. Error was pretty sure the entire castle knew that Ccino guy was in charge of keeping the King in check. Heck, when he’d first been brought in, the King looked worried about introducing him to that Ccino. Error never knew why, they’d gotten along great!
But, if it was Ccino telling the King to take a break? He figured that the King was probably listening. Fair enough. His soul calmed down a little at the rationalization.
“Oh, alright.” Error said finally, “Do you… know when he’ll want the next report by, then?”
He could still plan, right? Maybe it was only a few days.
“Mm, pretty sure Ccino said next month? Gotta catch up on some things. You live here.” Dust replied.
Oh. Okay. Hmm. That was… a lot longer than he’d been hoping for. He could probably manage, though. Keep chugging away at his current project, maybe have time to draft a new one. Bigger? But, wait, the King wanted him to propose any bigger ones to him first. Supposedly he’d be allowed unlimited creative liberties, it was more so if something exploded he’d know what happened, but still. He didn’t want to break the few rules he had. Old projects then! Make them the best ever!
He blinked in surprise when the little ping tingled in his skull.
Dust had turned around without him noticing, a hand extended to just barely nudge one of his hanging strings. He didn’t look back as he spoke.
“Gotta get back to rounds. G’night Error.” He said.
Error watched, disoriented for a second, before he nodded to himself.
“Good night, Sir Dust!” He returned hurriedly.
He watched as the knight started moving, and entirely silently he descended the steps. Only when he had turned the curve out of sight and his shadow disappeared from the wall where torches below cast it, did he pull the door shut and return inside his room.
His steps echoed against the stone floor until he returned to the cushioned rug, and then moved even further past that to one of his low-hanging hammocks.
It was tucked beside a bookshelf that the King had let him stock with whatever books he liked from the library during his first week. The room had been cold and bare, obviously unlived in for a while, and Error didn’t exactly have a lot to move in. Just his spare clothes, the (now empty) pouch he’d been using to store his coin, and the dolls. He’d refused to remove those from his bag until he was alone, though, so he’d really had nothing to call his own. The King had given him the opportunity to collect items like books from the library, had let him choose some items from an incoming shipment of trading goods, and had sent someone to buy any equipment Error might need to advance his magic and creations.
And, for the most part, Error was very self-sufficient. He’d had time to knit himself new clothes, and blankets, and decorate the room entirely with his magic. He spent a lot of time up in the high ceiling too, it was where he kept his dolls, and the projects, and all his important belongings. Everyone once in a while, though, he liked the bookshelf wall. Especially when he was eating. It was just easier to remember not to just hang up the plate among his projects.
Ccino’s cooking was always delicious, Error would never not look forward to a meal made by him, even if it was the lamest sounding food ever. He’d managed to make brussel sprouts tolerable. A feat, honestly. The tastiness and warmth that spread through him couldn’t distract him from his worries, though.
Error knew he’d have to work hard to make sure the King was impressed. But also not too bothered by it. He knows his explosive spells used to make his professors and tutors angry, and while the King had been nice about it so far, if he was tired? Error wouldn’t want to push the limits. But if he was too simply about it or lackluster, the King might be upset he was wasting his time? Ohhh. At least he had a month to work and try things out before then. Hopefully he could have an idea at that point. Hopefully.
…
Ten days.
Error had given it about 5 days after the time that the report was originally meant to happen, five days after Dust told him it’d been rescheduled, before he felt like he might go stir-crazy. Not because he was worried, but because of the exact opposite. He had his few other ongoing projects, mostly if not entirely completed, up to the King’s review. But he’d also developed another, newer, concept that he just knew would brighten the King’s mood.
Dust had been the one periodically bringing him food still, he hadn’t seen Ccino, and Error didn’t dare pry too far. All he’d been told was that the King was still swamped with duties and was locking himself in his study to complete his duties.
Now, Error was not one to talk about unhealthy work ethic, not in the slightest, but he figured it couldn’t be fun. The things the King was doing weren’t exciting or engaging like Error’s projects were, they were all papers and about talking to people. Error dreaded the idea of sitting alone in a room, trying to figure out something stupid like which roads a guy should walk or what people thought of him. Sounded stressful.
So, Error had made something to make the King feel less bad! Less cooped up!
Originally he had wanted to wait until his report, but he’d been so invested in making this that it’d only taken him a day, and his miniature prototypes had worked perfectly, so the larger one was ready in just a day or two! He’d really really tried to convince himself to be patient but… The King had liked him because he was bold! And did things he didn’t expect! And Error didn’t want to lose that reputation. If the King wouldn’t come to him, he’d just go to the King!
That was the thought process, of course, which had led him to the entryway to the King’s royal wing. Then past it and the guards standing watch. Then to standing right infront of the door to the King’s study.
He knew it was the study because he’d been inside once before. The King usually met with him up in the tower, but they had met down in his study once, to talk about the revised contract. It had been a long, boring conversation which involved the King asking Error to repeat his words back to him at certain points (the King had caught him spacing out several times, but never scolded him) to make sure he was actually listening. Something about making sure Error was safe and had other options? The King seemed super serious about making sure Error was okay, just because he was a kid, but he wasn’t a kid anymore! He was 13 by the time he signed, basically a whole adult!
But, point is, Error had spent at least an hour or two in there listening to the King talk. He knew where this room was.
Staring at the door was… a little imposing. What was his plan again? Burst inside?
Yeah. If he knocked, someone would send him away. Just like at the try-outs. He had to just commit and walk in. The King had said in the contract that Error was always welcome to come to him if he needed something. And right now? Error needed his attention.
He reached out, grabbing the big handle in one hand as he clutched his satchel with the other. He twisted it, and the moment it processed that it wasn’t locked, he pushed it inwards and slipped inside. He blindly shut it in his wake, just in-case someone tried to push him outside.
Leaning against the door, his eyelights shot around to take in the room.
No one was charging at him, and no one was rushing to yell at him. Good. Good. He-
“Error?”
Well that wasn’t a voice he recognized!
Error abandoned his skim of the room to search for the origin of the voice, and found himself staring wide-eyed at a monster across the room. This monster was a skeleton, their bones white, they seemed short, and skinny, and their one socket was wide in surprise with a single cyan eyelight, the other empty and seemingly gone dark. They stared at each-other.
This odd skeleton, Error noticed, wore the King’s clothes. To a tee, the cloak, the shirt, the pants. The shoes looked different, but the pants covered them enough that Error couldn’t quite tell on a quick glance. That, and this skeleton had the King’s circlet resting on their skull, crescent moon plastered right in the center of their forehead.
Error would’ve doubted the conclusion his mind came to, if it weren’t for the fact that he noticed this skeleton was not the only other one in the room. A quick glance revealed that Ccino was sat nearby to the skeleton, resting on one of the chairs around the coffee table. Error had been able to pick up that Ccino didn’t relax much at all. Especially not around strangers.
“King Nightmare?” He asked back, staring at the monster across the room still.
The way the monster seemed to flinch at the title told Error he was right. This was the King!
A lot of questions flooded his mind, but they were beat-out by a sudden flood of curiosity. He hurried across the room, rapidly approaching the King, until they were stood just a few feet apart. He didn’t even notice Ccino’s worried ‘ah, ah wait-’ or the way the King had to refrain from stepping away. He just saw his suspicions were correct.
“You’re… shorter.” He voiced, stupidly.
He wasn’t wrong! The King was now shorter than him by at least half a head! Before the mass of dark magic that was the King had been taller than him by a lot, and he was tall for his age, but now! Now he was tiny! He wasn’t sure what to do with this information besides be delighted. He was used to being taller than people, but taller than a king? Now that was more his speed!
It took a few seconds for it to finally hit Error that the King did… not look happy. He didn’t look mad, but Error knew that was not an expression people would give when they were happy. His brows were furrowed a bit, his mouth tugged down ever so slightly at the corners, his shoulders were tense.
“I- Yes, I am a bit… shorter. Than usual.” The King replied, “May I ask why you’re, ah, here, Mage Error?”
Error blinked at him for a second. Right! He was here for a reason!
“Oh! I just finished a lot of my projects, and I know that the report was rescheduled, but I made something I thought you would really like, and I…” He trailed off a moment as he realized Nightmare was staring at him. Had he done something wrong?
Nightmare was still watching him, but seemed more alarmed that Error had stopped talking. He wasn’t sure he liked being able to read the King’s expressions like this. Usually, the king had a poker-face worthy of a family game night, only breaking when he was pleased and smiled. Now his expressions were so obvious even Error could read them. It was strange.
“...Please, continue. A project?” The King seemed to catch himself and prompted. His expression schooled again, though it looked like he had to put in some effort. Eyelight flickering away from Error before shooting back to him.
Error hesitated for a second, but ultimately continued.
“I just… Thought that if I came to find you it wouldn’t take too long to show you, and then you wouldn’t be stuck doing just all your paperwork all day.” He was a bit more reserved than he’d meant to be when he presented the idea, both his hands now clutching the strap on his satchel. “I mean. If you’re that busy I can always. I can come back.” He paused again, “Or I- I- I can wait until my report day. Like I… probably should have.”
He didn’t like the way his voice had stuttered and lagged at the end as he became more uncertain. He glanced over at Ccino.
The older skeleton was watching between them wordlessly, looking a lot more tense than when Error had first seen him. Like he was waiting for something to happen. His eyelights were plastered on the King. Who was staring at Error intently.
“Is this project something which you could share inside the study? I… wasn’t intending on leaving my hall today.” the King asked him in an oddly gentle tone. His voice slowed the same way as usual, but it was strange to hear it in such a high voice.
Error’s hands wrung the strap of his satchel as he thought. “It’s. Ah. Explosive. It’d have to be outside.” He admitted in defeat. He hadn’t thought about the possibility that the King might not want to abandon his work to go look at Error’s spells. Thinking back, they did probably all look pretty silly to the King. He was really good at magic. Just like Dust was. “It can wait.” he added briefly.
The silence that followed only lasted a second or two, enough for Error to furrow his brow and feel that little hint of indignation that used to plague him, the one that made him so mad at everyone. What was he thinking? He was good at magic too! Maybe not as good as the King, but certainly he was powerful, his magic wasn’t bad or a waste. Those instructors back at the academy were wrong, he knew so, he had to stop thinking about what they’d thought of him.
Error found himself glaring at the floor when a sound snapped his attention upwards. A fizzling sound and a little groan from the King. The King had gripped his skull, covering the socket with the cyan eyelight and turning away from Error’s view in a snap.
That fizzling noise had sounded… unhealthy, to put it plainly. It didn’t help that Ccino finally spoke up, a little ‘My King?’ worriedly ringing out from the chair where Ccino had planted himself. The King had hunched himself forwards a bit to clutch at his socket, like he was trying to hold in pain.
Was… was the king sick? Was that why he looked like this? Initially he’d assumed the dark energy had been a glamor. Some kind of magical enhancement to shield him, to make him more fearsome, even to cover up stunted growth. This must’ve been what he looked like normally, right? But. If that were true, the King would’ve just called it back onto his person or had Ccino usher him out. If he was sick, though? He might not be able to control that magic. Might be limited in its output, or even barred from access…
Error would’ve asked him, but his eyes moved curiously to the mirror instead. The reflection gave Error a perfect view of the King’s other side. The way the magic in his palm was flickering and sparking. Between- Between colors. The cyan Error was familiar with, and a soft purple that he’d never seen.
He must’ve been right, on some level, because he realized it. He couldn’t sense the King’s magic.
Or, at least, he couldn’t sense any magic that was active. The King’s magic worked like an aura, at least as far as Error had seen of it. Wide-spread, curling around anyone and anything it liked like a vine, and strangling what it didn’t like a noose. He wasn’t as good at seeing magic or feeling it as his brother, but he knew when a magical signature was missing, and he could feel familiar ones. The magic that the King was using to make his eyelight flicker? It was familiar, if only faintly, but it wasn’t his normal magic. Not by a longshot. There was very little intent, and what there was felt. Strange. Desperate, almost.
“It’s alright. I’m fine, just a hiccup.” The King said, clearly responding to Ccino.
It took a few deep breaths before the King righted himself, and Error watched as he peeked at the mirror first. He saw that the King’s eyelight was cyan again, but only partly. The bottom portion was still that lavender, and he hissed under his breath before covering his socket with his hand again.
That same fizzling noise again, but muffled. Error watched, clearly, as the King’s face momentarily contorted with pain, before going still again.
That couldn’t be healthy, whatever he was doing. His brother had told him all sorts of horror stories about things going wrong with magic at his academy. People who would change their appearance, and they would do it poorly, with adverse effects on their body. He got a chill.
“I- I- can wait. The project can wait.” Error muttered over the sound of that magic fizzling and popping over the King’s socket.
He didn’t waste any time, even as he was pretty sure the King turned to call him back. He was already to the door, and then out of the door, and then hurrying down the hall.
No one in the castle actually cared what he was up to, so he wasn’t exactly careful as he hurried down the halls and back to the tall tower which was his. When he passed the entryway, hsi strings caught his arms and tugged him up and over the dozens of spiraling stairs, straight to his doorway. He practically spun inside and retreated to the rafters among his projects to disperse the ones he’d placed into his satchel.
…
It was childish, but Error felt faint about what he’d seen. He wasn’t sure why, but his head hurt just thinking about it. Altering appearance wasn’t something unheard of, or even really frowned about in his circles. But the magic the King had been doing was unfamiliar and strange. Not just something to alter the appearance of his magic, but something else. Something that was unnatural.
He tugged a string directly from his socket as he hung alone in the rafters, and saw the way that it hung from his fingertips. Blue, a deep one. Monster souls shouldn’t have traits, most didn’t, at least not the way human souls do. Magic, however, tends to manifest in a way that reflects its owner. Error had seen the way a white soul produced bright red magic. His own manifested as a dark blue. Integrity, he’d been told. It was reflecting on how he saw himself as well, he never gave up, he always walked his own path. Those who’d met him could certainly vouch for that.
As far as he’d known, the King’s magic was cyan. Somewhere between Patience and Kindness, which made sense to him. The King had certainly been kind, offering him this job despite the rules, and he was patient too. Letting Error go on and on and on about his creations. He’d never doubted that those were accurate traits. Now, though? Now the King seemed to be sporting Purple. Purple was not a color which Error had ever seen from him. And it seemed the King must’ve thought the same thing of himself.
Error took a breath as he moved the string so it sat hovering between his index finger and his thumb, the ends clinging with residual, pliable, magic. With his other hand, he pinched the end nearest to his thumb and closed his eyes.
He didn’t think about it often, but his strings were just that, made up of plenty of little threads, all woven together in just the right way which pleased Error. Texture and thickness which he liked and relied on to hold his weight, keep his projects secure, it was unlike any threads seen in the rest of the world. All his own. It’d taken him time to perfect it, though. Each new string, a new pattern and new density, until a few years ago when he’d figured it out. If he was right, though, he could mimic other styles. Other existing patterns. Other existing colors of magic.
He let his grip slide an inch or so down the string, concentrating as the fibers snapped and rearranged themselves. He furrowed his brow as he recalled the method to make a rope, the braids and twists and tension involved. Each strand felt like he was mentally moving a ten pound weight, and his concentration wavered when he realized his fingers were growing warm. Then, a few more seconds, another inch, and it felt like his fingertips would burst into flame. He hissed and opened his eyes, retracting his hand to see what sort of abomination he’d made.
Half the string was still that familiar deep blue, but the portion near his thumb was a bright yellow. Thick, three times as thick as the blue, and with the appearance of a rope. It trembled and shook with tension, the portion where Error had given up being a strange and ugly, frayed mass of blue and yellow strands, some portions a muddled green at the exact mid-point.
The sight made Error wince, and he pulled his fingers apart, the frayed portion snapping easily. The blue strand fell limp into his palm, while the yellow strand began to unravel. Quickly. LIttle chunks of burnt-out thread exploded like confetti, turning white or back to that blue color. It spun and spun until Error was left with little chunks of blue magic thread stuck to the fabric of his shirt and floating to the floor below him. The yellow magic he’d imbued, all the intent pushed behind it, wasn’t nearly enough to keep it steady or in place. Even if he’d finished the entire strand and burnt his fingers to do it, it wouldn’t have held up a small rock, let alone anything important. It was useless.
His little test, he realized, didn’t even cover the severity of the situation. He’d used strings, something he’d removed from his person. The King was doing that… to his own socket.
How long had he been doing that? If Cyan wasn’t his natural magic, how much strain had he been under? For how long?
It was none of his business, he reminded himself. The King was an adult, with a lot of advisors and strong magic users and people like Ccino. He had people who would tell him to stop. Error didn’t have the whole picture, surely. It wasn’t his place to worry about it. It just… rubbed him the wrong way. It bothered him.
…And now he had two things to sulk about. Great.
…
Ping
There it was again.
Honestly, Error hadn’t expected anyone to come to see him again so soon. It’d hardly been a few hours since he attempted to visit the King, and it must’ve been dark by now. Who was coming up past dinner time?
He eased himself down from where he’d placed himself in the rafters, and stood in front of his large door for a second, before opening it up to peek out.
And. Outside, in the dimly lit corridor, was… The King.
Or, at least, it looked like the King? Same clothes, same height as he’d seen earlier in the day, and his eyelight was cyan once again. Only, this time he couldn’t see the King’s expressions. He was wearing a mask. Error had to blink to process it. An owl, round and dark, with big eye holes right at the right level for the King’s sockets. It reminded Error a little bit of the fluffy owls he used to see outside his window, the ones just barely out the nest still losing their fluffy baby feathers. Was… Was it heresy to think the King was small and cute? Probably. Very absurd thought, compared to the haunting dark mass he usually was. Maybe that was why he disguised?
“Mage Error,” The King greeted, voice calm as it usually was, “I am aware that this is an impromptu visit, but may I come in? I realize I did not attend to you as I should have earlier, and I wish to rectify this mistake.” His cyan eyelight watched upwards, and Error stared down at him for a moment through the crack in the door.
He glanced past him, too. But it seemed like the King was entirely alone. Just like he tended to be.
Error swung open the door, pulling himself out of the way along with it. It wasn’t like he was going to say no to the King, but he wasn’t nearly as excited as usual. What should he do? Say? Obviously something was up with the King, but was Error supposed to say anything? Or was the King just here to make sure Error stayed out of trouble? Adults did that a lot back in the day when he got on their nerves.
His thoughts persisted as the King entered the space. Error shut the door behind him and watched idly for a breath. The King was moving oddly. Like he was faint. His steps were just ever so slightly uneven and he seemed to wobble ever so slightly as he moved to sit at the unoccupied chair before Error’s desk. What was wrong with him?
Error started moving, shifting away the items he’d once again strewn out on the floor back to the shadows of the rafters, and instead lowering a set of strings which held his hammock and a wooden board he much preferred to a table. The King watched as the items lowered, just like he always did, but the table was empty as Error hoisted himself to sit on the edge of the hammock across from the ruler.
“You… have questions, right?” Nightmare voiced.
The King was looking at the empty surface suspended before the both of them, and Error realized he hadn’t even moved to gather his projects. For some reason he was hesitant to bring them up again.
“Can I? Ask you stuff?” Error questioned uncertainly. “Adults usually don’t like when I start asking questions.” He admitted.
The King looked up to him, before he sighed and nodded. “Ask anything you like.”
That was… an odd allowance. Error wasn’t used to that either. Usually the King was the one letting him talk, and talk, and talk, and his questions had never been about. Well. The King himself. Just about the knights, or the tapestries, or the food. Never about the King.
“Why are you small?” The burning question was the one he had to get out of his head. He had theories, but the King was the only one who could confirm or deny them.
The King was quiet for a brief second, before he brought a hand to his mask. It hovered there as he chuckled, though to Error it sounded a lot more like a giggle.
“It is a… complicated story. I’m still not quite sure myself, but I will share with you what I know as to how I came to be this way.” The King moved a hand behind his skull, tucking it beneath his hood, and tugged at a pretty silk ribbon. A purple one, Error noted. “It’s the least i can do.”
The mask fell forward into the King’s awaiting hand, and once again Error was met by the image of that clean and soft white bone. The rounded face he didn’t recognize. His expression was neutral, schooled, careful.
“I know you are not from Orchard, nor are you familiar with the traditions of our kingdom. However, you recall the story of my upbringing, and my twin, correct?” He asked, and Error nodded. He recalled decently that there had been twin princes, the King, Nightmare, and his brother, Dream or something? He’d been asking about the tapestries and the King had told him how the two of them had grown up really close, and how he ended up with the throne in the end, banishing his twin so he wouldn’t steal the crown or something.
“Good. Well. My coronation was not actually mine. It was that of my twin. Dream. He was the crown prince, but I had found word of a great cost to completing the ritual, and I was sure he would be hurt by the process.” The King explained. “The power of the kingdom is passed from generation to generation through the soul. Each King’s soul warps and changes, taking the shape of an apple, golden and shining with a seemingly divine magic. When my mother gave up her soul for Dream to eat, to inherit her title, I…”
The king trailed off for a breath, and Error felt his insides twist a bit. Eating a soul? That was… a concept. Fascinating, but also he couldn’t imagine a scenario in which someone would actually follow through with it. Of course eating an entire other monster’s soul would provide a magic boost, just like when monsters absorbed human souls, or humans overloaded on magic.
“I stole it from him and completed the ritual myself.” So, maybe that was why he was sick? “The ritual, as it was meant to do, provided me with power beyond myself, yes, but it also altered my mind and physical form. I aged significantly, something I had always assumed was due to the overwhelming force of the gifted magic. In a matter of moments I was old, my mind more clear and sharp. The way you knew me before was the shape I was meant to hold. That I expected to stay.” The King rubbed a hand against his good socket, the other gently resting over the mask sat on his lap. “Several weeks ago, I collapsed. And when I awoke, I had taken on this form again, and it seems my mind is reverted as well. Both have returned, aside from my memories, back to the exact condition that they were on the day of my coronation. So, I find myself back in my youth, and small as a result.”
He seemed to pause for a second, before puffing a sigh, “Or, almost the exact condition. It seems a wound I suffered the same day didn’t ever quite heal.” He ghosted over his empty socket and the cracks running up and out of sight beneath his hood.
Error stared at him a second, and he blinked in confusion. That was a lot of wacky magic shenanigans, and that was coming from him of all monsters, but he was processing something that had been glossed over.
“Wait, so how old are you?” Error questioned, confused.
The King blinked at his question, before Error caught sight of something he didn’t quite expect to see today. A slight lavender blush dusted the King’s cheekbones. Error’s not even sure the King noticed he’d done it.
“That’s a… tricky question I’ve been trying to decipher. However, as far as my development and mental state are concerned, I regrettably appear to be 13.”
The King seemed ashamed to admit it, but Error found his mind working a bit faster than he’d meant it to be. The weak aura, the weird magic, the short height, the baby face, the higher voice, all of it! He’d heard of cases like this. Not usually between monsters, but often when monsters would overtake too much magic, or too many supplements, or strain their bodies, they could take on a higher form before reverting. Usually it only affected the amount of magic they could harness, and no one had ever sustained one long enough to actually age before releasing it, but it wasn’t an impossible idea. If the King had been operating on borrowed magic? It was entirely possible that there was a sort of stasis provided to him. Especially since Error was pretty sure he never ever got hurt.
Part of him wished he’d paid more attention to the books on the shelves back home. His brother would eat this up. Soul-based research with an abnormally long-lasting period? Oh boy…
“That’s cool!” Error blurted without really thinking about it.
The King seemed to actually flinch about it, cyan eyelight looking wide at Error form across the makeshift table.
“I- What do you mean?” The King questioned, obviously confused and shocked.
Error frowned a bit. Did the King really not realize how much skill that takes to pull something like that amount of magic transfer off? Error’s not even sure he could do something like that, and all without losing himself to this other invasive magic?
“King Nightmare, it sounds like you were a torch holding a really really hot fire and you didn’t even get burnt. I’ve never heard of someone using magic like that.” And he blinked as he suddenly perked up, “You’re young too! We’re like each other! Doing cool new magic things that no one wanted us to do! Well, I mean, you want me to do it, but- That’s not the point!”
Error actually leaned forward a bit so his elbows planted on his knees, and he squinted at the King. “I bet I’m older now too, that’d be really cool. What season is your birthday?” He’d not seen the King celebrate his birthday since he’d been there, but then again, the King was always busy, and Error didn’t pay attention much.
The King seemed taken aback, but still spoke, “My birthday is in the spring, but-”
Error lit up at that, “Yes! I am older!” he exclaimed excitedly to himself. He’d never had anyone younger than him to hang around before! Granted, he’d met other kids at the academy, but they hadn’t liked him much.
His grinning was cut a bit short when the King stammered from the seat across from him again.
“Mage Error, I- I’m glad to see this news isn’t distressing you, but I please ask you to consider my next few words.” The King was watching him, and Error tried to tone down the smile gracing his face. “News of my… state is not being circulated just yet. Orchard is still recovering from centuries of mistreatment under my bloodline’s rule, and I am nowhere near to being able to restore the kingdom as I had planned. My goals will likely only bring more turmoil and frustration to the people, and while assassinations and other sabotage have rarely graced these halls, if word gets out of my newfound weakened form? This castle, this entire kingdom, could be thrown to chaos.” The King’s tone was very serious, and it sounded tired. “You, Error, are not officially my mage, but to prying eyes your studies here fill that same purpose. I was willing to take you in when I was sure I had the power to protect you, but I can’t provide that security any more.”
“Before I came here, I reviewed our contract. At the loss of my protection, you are welcome to request an indefinite leave of absence from the position, and I will have one of my knights accompany you anywhere you wish to go and ensure you arrive safely. I do not want to put you in danger due to my search for reform. You have no obligations to stay in this place nor risk your life for it.” The King’s voice was steady as he said it. “You do not have to give me an answer this moment, but I needed to inform you so that you have a full understanding of your options.”
Error’s grin had faded about halfway through the King’s speech, and he could already feel the fuzzy numbness creeping up one of his legs as he tried to keep himself from lashing out. Dust had talked to him about that. His reactiveness.
“King Nightmare, I’m not going anywhere.” he declared, crossing his arms with a huff. “That dumb contract you made me read also said I can stay as long as I want the position. And I want the position.” And the food, and the tower, and the courtyard, and the knights, and the King who listened to him talk about his explosives. “I don’t care if you’re short or have purple magic or whatever,” the King flinched at that, “ You’re still really smart and you have a bunch of really strong people you’re in charge of. Including me, by the way.”
He was almost offended. He was strong! He was dangerous! The King had always praised him for ingenuity and sheer force of will placed behind each of his projects, and Error took pride in that. He was strong, and powerful, and he wanted to do fun experiments and help the King. Almost more now that he knew that the King was some twig of a monster. Now he didn’t have to worry about lame old people bossing him around.
The King seemed to lean forward ever so slightly in the chair he was sat in, and Error didn’t shy away. If this was a battle of the wills, he wouldn’t be-
A sniffle.
Error jolted when the King pulled his hands up to his skull and hastily dragged his sleeves against his sockets. Was he crying??
“Ah- Forgive me!” The King said in a small voice, “Emotional regulation, another damning loss from my sudden form alteration. I’ve been lucky I hadn’t embarrassed myself sooner.” He practically teased himself.
Error let his body stop tensing, and he noticed the uncomfortable fuzzy feeling had fled in the aftermath of his bold declaration. If he’d had any doubts before that this King was actually as he said, this was the final sign. The King had never showed so much emotion before.
“I think it’s fine. I get mad all the time and you never mind.” Error voiced, though he wasn’t sure how welcome it would be.
At that the king laughed, and Error grinned to himself, looking away from the scene. He didn’t like it when people saw him cry. He understood that one all too well.
A silence fell between them. Error wasn’t going anywhere, he’d made that abundantly clear. The King wouldn’t be sending him away, either. It went unsaid, but it was there in the agreement they’d made just hardly a year prior. The King never went back on his deals.
“Mage Error, I believe you wanted to show me something earlier. Now that it is dark, I believe I would be willing to have Horror accompany us out to the courtyard so I may observe.”
Error glanced back to the King, and saw that he was looking up at the darkened ceiling. As though trying to predict when a string would lower down his newest creations.
“Oh, actually I bet we can do it here. From the balcony, I mean. It goes up into the sky, so it shouldn’t hurt anything.” he said, his excitement gaining momentum once again. “I actually made test ones this time too, just to make sure!”
Error swung backwards out of his hammock, and let the strings above him loosen to drop the item into his awaiting hands.
The King rose from his seat, walking a bit strangely still, but nothing which bothered Error much. He was more interested in the curious face of his ruler as he approached Error near the balcony exit. Error wasn’t one to use his balcony often, he didn’t even have strings set up to pull the curtains aside, so he lifted one back so that the King could pass by, and he followed himself shortly after.
The balcony was a thick one, reinforced underneath by large wooden and stone beams, the railing thick enough that one could sit along it like a high-stakes bench. Error did just that, pulling himself up so his feet dangled over the edge. The King remained back, hood pulled tight to his skull as the night winds attempted to tug it away from him. It took a few moments before he joined Error near to the edge, leaning on the balcony which was just ever so slightly too tall for him. His arms rested at chin-height and he seemed to be debating whether to rest his chin on them like an arm rest.
Error watched from over his shoulder, and grinned to himself as he secured the little invention with his strings before holding it out for the King to see in the moonlight that illuminated the darkness. Them, the castle grounds below, the mountainside and the sprawling hills and valleys beyond.
“I’ve seen people make these before with gun-powder, they always glowed red, though. So I infused some magic into the canister and the projectiles, and they should do something fun.” Error explained excitedly, pointing out different locations on the thing held in his strings. Long, slender, a mix between a crossbow and a cannon, but tiny. Only the length of his forearm. “Best thing, it should be quiet!” He’d noticed that some of the knights didn’t like when his explosions made loud noises, and a lot of guards came rushing the first few times he’d set off his creations.
The King examined it for a few moments longer, before he nodded silently.
Error snickered before he pulled it back into his grip and aimed it up and out. Away from the tower, where it should’ve been just over the large, round, open space in the center of the castle. High in the sky.
He shifted, dragging his fingers along the surface, the long portion lighting up and flinging something from the end of the device. A little ball of pure white. Up, up, up.
It exploded.
Error laughed in triumph as the night sky above the palace was set ablaze with a collection of little shimmering lights, like falling stars in all shades of blue and green and purple and white flying everywhere before going dark. His eyelights shot back to the King as he loaded the next round, and he was delighted to see that the single cyan eyelight was plastered on the smoky after-effect left by the burning magic. He desperately wanted to start telling the King all about how he’d done such a genius thing, but he found himself simply hefting the little device up once again and firing into the open darkness instead.
#new age au#oh yeah. Error was SUPER fixated on being taller than Nightmare lmao. he usually doesn't even care but like. he was baffled. he's never seen#so many petite skeletons in his life and the King being one was a plot twist!#and the age is mainly because he's used to being the youngest. now he's not lol!#and yeag. Error is internallu thinking ' I literally have 4 bombs stored above our heads rn' and considering that if any assassins came#after him they wouldn't make it up the staircase (it's boobytrapped lowkey lmao. hostile intent gets blocked.)#he totally is gonna refocus his inventions to defensive now too.#Geno does it with Reaper and Dust. Error does it with Nightmare. hehe!!!
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