#the stress and anxiety of life gets to him

[mrsriddlenott]

I put a lot of my own anxiety and insecurities into this and just portrayed it kinda how my mind feels in stressful situations where I doubt everything. This is basically my way of coping with the stress of….well everything rn.

Warnings: Anxiety, Insecure reader, Mention of cheating but no cheating ever occurred, Brain working against reader, Small panic attack, Suggestive at the end. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

~ Anxious ~

Your heart beat pounded heavily in your ears over the music surrounding you, your eyes unable to pull away from the scene in front of you. You didn’t want to think JJ would cheat on you. You hadn’t considered it, but as you watched him and Kie talk like nothing and no one was around them, doubt began to settle in your chest.

“It was insane, the biggest wave that I had ever surfed,�� JJ explained with excitement, his eyes on Kie from beside you, his arm that had draped across your shoulders now lays nonchalantly against the back of the couch. You’re brain keeps trying to convince you it means something. It can’t mean anything.

Does it though?

You had already heard this story many times before, so had Kie even though she was there. Of course. But somehow with him it felt like it was new. “Do you remember that time when we-“ You start softly making JJ briefly turn to you with those bright excitement filled eyes he wore so often around his group.

Or was it around Kie? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Before you could even get past your first sentence his eyes were shooting away from yours immediately at the sound of her voice cutting over yours.

Maybe he’ll tell her I was talking?

Maybe she didn’t notice?

“Oh wait, Jj” Not you, just JJ, you thought trying to ignore the pang of emotions that hit your chest at being interrupted. “Even better, that time when we all almost got caught at the party in that creepy abandoned house and when we got to the Twinkie-“ JJ was laughing before she could even finish the story and soon they both were, leaving you confused and left out when the warmth of JJ’s arm finally slipped out from behind you to clutch himself as he laughed. “Well you know what happened.” Kie said between laughs after attempting to continue.

“I don’t,” Your chest constricts, clutching your words in your throat, forcing your voice to come out soft and scratchy while attempting to get their attention. When your small, anxious voice is drowned out by their combined laughter the feeling of jealousy and anxiety fuled anger fills your chest, your eyes bouncing back and forth uncontrollably between them while they start to calm down. Will he put his arm around me again? You ask yourself, your thoughts beginning to spiral down a road they never had with JJ.

Does he even remember I am here?

“Need a drink.” You rush to speak, your voice harsh abd upset while shoving yourself aggressively off the couch and away from the man that is supposed to bring you comfort. It wasn’t your intention to be rude, or aggressive but you just couldn’t find it in you to care.

It’s not like he will notice my tone anyway. You tell yourself, slipping silently around the crowded room to reach the drinks. You can’t stop yourself as your brain starts falling into a pit of overthinking, forcing yourself to take deep breaths in the hopes that you could calm down, take a few shots and be able to ignore these feelings until you were alone.

I bet he won’t even follow me, will he? The voice in the back of your head blurts out again, pushing tears past your eyelashes as you desperately try and hold them in. The thought has your head filling with heavy fog, your eyes searching for a life line, beginning to realize that you don’t even know anyone here besides his friends. Their friends.

Not like I have any of my own anyway.

Your scattered brain wastes no time in reminding you of that fact, your eyes nervously scanning the room, the music seemingly booming louder than it was a second ago as your ears begin to ring and your breath speeds up. You notice the room staring to feel smaller, your chest constricting with anxiety like the walls around you are closing in. You can’t understand why you aren’t able to just calm yourself down like a normal person.

I bet he wouldn’t even care if I left. Wouldn’t notice for hours. Your brain screams at you as you try and hide in the bathroom, locking the door behind you and letting your body relax against the door, falling down slowly, cradling your head in your arms and allowing yourself to cry quietly. You wanted your brain to just shut up already.

God you’re so toxic. What’s wrong with you. No wonder he prefers her, she can hold a conversation without stuttering through her anxiety. She is exciting, she likes everything he likes and knows the lingo-

“Hey, y/n are you okay?” JJ’s voice breaks through your thoughts, the knock of his two fingers against the hollow wood of the door making you jump slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just crowded out there. Don’t worry you can go back to the party.” You try to control the sadness in your voice, wiping your eyes despite the tears still profusely wetting your cheeks, but you could almost hear the look of confusion on his face as he spoke through the door.

“But I don’t want to, not without you.” He sates, jiggling at the door knob before realizing it was locked, “Can I come in? You sound upset.” The fist trapping your heart tightens at the soft nervous chuckle he releases when you don’t respond at first. You can tell he has no idea what to do, or what upset you.

It’s not his fault you’re like this. He deserves better. He wants to have fun, not run around after me.

After taking a glance in the mirror to ensure your face was as tear free as it was going to get, you click the lock on the door, letting it creak open as you walk to rest against the sink, avoiding his gaze that you can feel burning into the back of your head.

“Are you okay Princess?” He asks, shutting the door behind him to give you privacy, the sigh in his voice as he sees you leant forward only eggs your anxiety on further. He’s annoyed with me now, you think as tears flood down your cheeks uncontrollably, forcing you to gasp for a breath you know won’t come.

“I-i was just overwhelmed at all the people I didn’t know,” the sentence gets caught in your throat, your eyes closing so you can imagine the lie in your head, “I’m okay, you can go have fun with your friends,” you try, wiping your eyes of tears to turn to face him with a straight face but he sees right through it. Like he aways does.

“You’re crying Gorgeous what happened? Did someone say something to you?” He asks, his voice sounded angry but his hands were soft as they reached up to grab your face, examining you like a piece of delicate china, “Did someone do something to you?” His voice was more urgent this time, startling you as you pull yourself out of his grasp and turn away again.

“No, no I’m fine I just need a second okay.” JJ can hear the squeak in your voice, can see the way your shoulders rock slightly with silent sobs. His heart starts to beat rapidly at the thought of everything that could have gone wrong, he didn’t want to lose you, he needed you. You grounded him and kept him from going absolutely crazy at every small inconvenience.

“Why won’t you look at me Princess? Did I do something?” His voice comes out as beg, wanting you to just tell him what happened, “Are you mad at me, whatever I did I didn’t mean to I promise I’m just a fucking idiot please tell me and I’ll explain.”

Your bloodshot eyes lock on his when you turn to meet his gaze and he knows this was him. He caused this somehow. His brain started going through each and every interaction he had with you in order to pin point what he did before finally remembering you didn’t even want to come to this party in the first place. “I can take you home and we can just hang out alone if you’re not having fun.”

“I don’t want to ruin the night for you, I just wanted to calm down because I have no right to be upset.” You sigh, finally meeting his eyes as he steps closer to you wearing a small smile, wanting nothing more than for you to open up to him, “I’m just overthinking….things.”

“What things?” He asks, his voice soft and full of reassurance

“Um well,” You stutter, “It’s just that it made me feel really anxious when Kie interrupted me, it made me….my brain….think you preferred talking to her.”

“Oh….Baby I’m so sorry,” JJ sighs, finally stepping close enough to tug you into a hug by your waste, “I thought you were just too anxious about the party to finish, you should have said something I would have listened to you Princess.”

“It’s fine, I was just too drained to say anything. I shouldn’t have made a big deal out of it.” Your head falls to rest on his chest, the warmth of his arms around you slowing your racing heart.

“You call this a big deal? Nah Princess next time you wanna say something to me you say it, I don’t care who I’m talking to I want to hear you.” His lips brush softly against your head, his large ringed hands rubbing up your back in a comforting gesture.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to ruin everything so I was just gonna calm down on my own.” Your voice cracks as you link your hands together against his back, allowing yourself to slightly cry at the thought.

“I don’t wanna find you crying in the bathroom because of me, I want you to have fun and when you’re not I want to know so I can fix it.” JJ’s voice is stern and confident as he moves you forward by your shoulders, forcing eye contact when he grips your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, “You are the most important person to me. I want to hear every single thing in that pretty head of yours, anything you worry about, anything you stress over, even if you think it will upset me. I would rather we’re upset together and working it out than distancing ourselves so one of us can have fun at the expense of the other.”

JJ’s gentle lips meet yours, your lips and cheeks still salty from tears, your hands shaking as they find their perch in JJ’s sandy hair. He steals your breath as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming your sides and across your back as you tug him away by his hair. He groans his protest, his eyes still closed as he inhales your scent with his forehead against yours, “I love you, you know that right?” He whispers as his eyes blink open to meet yours again, stepping back to see you completely, his eyes dancing across you as if you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

“I love you too, so much it hurts,” Your sad chuckle mingles with your words and JJ knows you’ll be okay, he’ll make sure of it. His head swims with your scent while it surrounds him, the look of adoration in your wet eyes as you smile up at him sends him reeling, his hands subconsciously tightening on your waste and his lip tugging between his teeth.

“I think we should get outta here,” his breathless, begging tone brings out a giggle as your head falls against him again, “You were so right earlier, we should stay in and watch a movie yeah?” The teasing tone of his voice sparks a fire in your abdomen as you nod your head, his hands already encircling yours and tugging you out of the bathroom towards the door.

The music is still entirely too loud as you search the room with your eyes, taking notice of the empty couches you had just been sitting at. A pang of regret hit you, imagining Kie being mad at you for….for what? JJ wanted to hear me, you remind yourself as you take a deep breath before speaking, “Where’s Kie? Did I upset her?”

“I have no idea. I followed you when I heard how upset you were, she’ll understand though she knows how I feel about you.” He states matter of factly, “Now, if we don’t get out of here soon we are not making it home before I just find somewhere nice and private to take you on my bike Princess.”

“What have I said that implies I wouldn’t enjoy that Jay?” You tease, letting your lips tickle the shell of his ear, giggling at the groan he releases from deep in his chest while his grip on your hand tightens.

~~~~

[beardedmrbean]

Charlotte stood on the train tracks ready for a train to come sweeping down the rails and end it all.

However the driver of that train, 47-year-old Dave Lay, had other plans.

Slamming the brakes after receiving notice of a pedestrian on the tracks, Lay brought the train to a halt and got down to talk with the suicidal woman for nearly half an hour before eventually getting her safely to the next platform.

Local police met the pair, and helped Charlotte get in contact with local mental health support workers then and there. Shaken but feeling good about what he was able to do, Dave departed, imagining the episode had finished.

But Charlotte had other plans.

Looking him up on Facebook the following day, she sent a message thanking him for the kindness he showed her on the rails at Crossflatts Station in West Yorkshire, England.

“I walked down the tracks and sat down, waiting,” Charlotte told the British media service SWNS. “I’m unsure who raised the alarm about my presence but when the next train came, it slowed and stopped far from me. I’m so grateful to Dave for stopping that day and being so patient and understanding.”

After Dave returned Charlotte’s text telling her he was available whenever she needed to speak to someone, they began exchanging messages on a daily basis. They met for a coffee after chatting for two months.

Fast forward three years, and they tied the knot when Charlotte was 22 weeks pregnant with their first child.

Charlotte, a nurse at the British National Health Service, was previously diagnosed with major depressive disorder, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and emotionally unstable personality disorder.

Recalling her decision-making process from that fateful day in 2019, she said that she was on the train to work in her scrubs, but nothing felt right. Dave’s arrival had all the hallmarks, she remembered, of a person trained to de-escalate mental health crises.

“I once asked him if he’d ever had any de-escalation training, because he was brilliant that day,” she said. “The conversation from what I can remember was just about mundane things and about both our lives, but it was enough to break the crisis.”

“Life didn’t feel as heavy anymore. The next day I made it my mission to find the man who had been so kind to me.”

DE-ESCALATING DANGER: Surveillance Shows Jon Bon Jovi Stopping Woman From Jumping Off Bridge in Nashville

Dave told the BBC he simply “said all the things he wished he could’ve said” to other people who have committed suicide, and for his part was desperately happy to hear from Charlotte, as he had no way of knowing if she ever approached mental health services, or if she made another attempt to enter the House of Hades.

“I needed to know she was all right. I’d contacted police to try to find out what happened to her and just wanted to make sure she was safe,” he told the BBC. “I felt like I had a duty to make sure she was all right. We’d had that rapport built by the side of the track.”

Charlotte says she hopes that by sharing her story, people will realize that, although it would be ideal if we all had specialist training to deal with a mental health crisis, we are all nevertheless capable of helping by being empathic and present.

[revelboo]

TKO Pt 2

IDW Cliffjumper x Reader

• What’s it mean that he’s down to pleading and bargaining at this point? Anything to get you to stop cringing in the far corner of his berth, legs drawn tight to your body and making that spark wrenching noise. “You have to refuel,” he says, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice as he nudges the fast food container he’d snatched from a drive through your way. Do you have any idea how aggravating it was to not only maintain a holomatter avatar solid enough to retrieve the order, but also to tap into the little terminal that the human server had extended to fool the antiquated tech into thinking he’d paid? “Please, just a little. I’ll leave you alone and you won’t even have to look at me.” Teary, red rimmed eyes peer at him from the nest of blankets he’d had to give you since you won’t let him touch you and you’re still shaking uncontrollably. Cold, but unwilling to let him help.

• Breath catching as he uses the tip of a servo to nudge the greasy bag closer, your bare feet slide and squeak on the metal surface, trying to press even tighter into your corner. And anxiety seizes you by the throat as he slowly straightens, your head dropping back under your blanket. That childish certainty that the monster can’t get you if you just hide. Except he had gotten you. And even if you understand that he, Cliffjumper, is trying in his own way to look after you, he’s also made it clear he’s not turning you loose. You press your face into your arms, nails digging into yourself against the trembling that just won’t stop. Too scared to speak or move. Finally, you hear him make a noise like a growl that cranks that stress a bit tighter, but he leaves. Only then do you lunge for the food.

• How can one little organic leak so much? Crying and sobbing all the time, refusing to meet his optics, just glancing quickly at him then away. Terrified of him like he’s some awful monster. And to you, he supposes he is, but it’s not like he asked for this. To be punished for however long a human lives for bothering to save your life. For doing the right thing instead of leaving you broken out there. Running a palm over his face, he paces outside his quarters. Trying to give you time to eat and hoping you actually do. He can’t imagine it’ll look good on him if his charge starves to death on his watch. And you might just to spite him, because you seem to really hate him that much.

• The shaking only stops when he’s gone. Even though you’d always struggled with stress and anxiety, it had never been like this. This makes worrying about work or bills seem silly. Laughable. Not even knowing what he wants with you just makes it so much worse. Maybe you’re a pet. Maybe he eats humans and he’s only keeping you alive until he gets hungry. You don’t know anything and you hate it. This awful helplessness, all your future choices just taken away. Now there’s no future, just whatever this horror is. Pressing your face against your knees, you scream.

Previous

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who asked to get to know you first before starting the relationship. before he even met you, Hoseok knew that the person he was looking for would start to be part of his life with a regularity that he would have to make sure you were the ideal person for him. as such, before you even talked about limits and rules, Hoseok invited you to a simple dinner in the hopes of getting to know something more about you. yes, he had your name and knew where you were working; but Hoseok wanted to know more, something that wasn’t as superficial as your age and where you went to school. he wanted to get to know you: Hoseok wanted to know what you liked to do and all the things that made you happy; Hoseok wanted to know what your dream was as a child and how you still wanted to achieve it; Hoseok wanted to know more about you – he wanted to know what your soul was made of. “thank you for agreeing to go out with me. i hope you understand that i am not the only one to benefit from our date. i also want you to get to know me before accepting me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who arranged a private driver for you. even though Hoseok liked to take you to places and outings himself, there were times when he was too busy or you simply wanted to go somewhere when he wasn’t in town. as such, to alleviate some of your anxiety about being behind a steering wheel, or the nervousness of chasing buses or taxis, Hoseok hired a driver especially for you. at any time, wherever you were, whenever Hoseok couldn’t reach you, he encouraged you to call your driver, knowing perfectly well that, even though you were far from him, you would be safe in the hands of a person he trusted. “i promise to take you on one of those nighttime car trips you love so much. but now i’m about to go into a meeting and i don’t know when i’ll arrive. call him today. tomorrow you are mine.”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who is addicted to kissing your skin. for entire mornings, the two of you enjoyed the first rays of sunlight wrapped in sheets of devotion. behind you, kissing every part of you, Hoseok made a point of lingering in this little ritual of yours. one of his hands always held your waist, caressing skin up skin down, while his tender lips sanctified your skin. little by little, as the seconds called out to you, you let your head gently tilt back, eyes closed, smile on your face. Hoseok always knew how to relax every nerve in your body. your shoulder, tired of carrying all the weight of the world – one, two, three kisses; your neck, tired of accumulating all the stress of living – ooooone, twoooooo, threeeeeee kisses; your jaw, tired of eating your emotions – one,two,three kisses; your lips, tired of forcing so many smiles – one, one, one, one, one, two., three…

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who likes to shop with you. of course, Hoseok always thought of gifts to offer you as a surprise, just to thank you for the simple fact that you were in his life. but what really cheered Hoseok up, what really put a wide smile on his lips and an intense sparkle in his eyes, was when he saw you walking distractedly through the stores, looking intently at everything but him. he couldn’t explain it, and he would never admit it to you, but seeing you in those big stores, walking through aisles of color and texture always thinking about what you might want, what would catch your attention, made Hoseok dream. during this time, when you didn’t mind going for the most expensive shoes, or paid attention to anyone who might be on your side, you seemed to be a part of Hoseok’s life. yes, you have a special relationship and you are present in each other’s lives almost constantly; but there, in control of yourself, just asking Hoseok for the card to pay made him believe that he was worthy of having a life with someone, with you. “tomorrow and friday are my days off. do you want to go buy some clothes so we can go to dinner on friday? you can choose the restaurant this time. see you tomorrow.”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who wants to know everything you wanted when you were little so he could gift it to you. a tree house with a sink that actually works for you to wash the fruit you stole straight from the tree. a trip to that theme park just to ride the attraction you never had the chance to experience. the complete barbie movie collection with a doll-sized wardrobe from each film for you to play with in your big gi ant   e n o r m o u s  dollhouse. eat only ice cream for breakfast, tacos for lunch and pizza for dinner all weekend long. even a trip to a country that wasn’t within driving distance. “how many times do I have to tell you? everything, everything, e ve ry thing! don’t hide anything from me. even if it’s impossible.” when Hoseok asked you for everything, he really meant everything. all your dreams would now be lived and your inner child would heal, hug you, and tell you they are so happy you made it this far – you deserved everything.

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK who always asks if you’re okay. after a smile, before a tear, during a silence, Hoseok was always thinking about your well-being. already spending so much time with you, he wanted to believe that he already knew you well enough to pick up on all your little mannerisms that you did when you were less excited. but there were still moments when he pondered. was that smile real? your laugh sounded fake, but your joke slid so smoothly from your mouth. no, that look in your eyes, you weren’t okay. right? better to ask and be greeted with a smile than to ignore that side of you and force you to live when you just want to rest. Hoseok’s priority was you. Hoseok’s priority was your well-being. he just wanted to confirm that he was doing a good job. “you arrived earlier than we agreed. did i get the time wrong? what? your face. your eyes – you can’t look at me. what is it? are you okay?”

SUGAR-DADDY!HOSEOK that makes you the only person in his life. what else could Hoseok do? what else could Hoseok say? go, tell him. give him exact instructions on how he should treat and love you. tell him word by word, l e t t e r   by   l e t t e r, everything he has to give you. please just say it, tell him. there was no one else Hoseok wanted to please. there was no one else Hoseok wanted to keep in his life. just you. so, give him the exact ingredients so he can create the perfect recipe for loving you. “it’s no big deal. nothing is ever too much when it’s for you. for you, i’m sure i was capable of draining all the water from the oceans for you to build a sand empire just because you want to. i know i would go to the ends of the world if it made you happy, and i would add more to the world if that was what you wanted. please let me love you.”

[fushitoru]

can you please give us hcs of how protective and loving bridgertone gojo would be with pregnant reader

cw mentions of pregnancy :3, suggestive, lots of fluff

in the regency era, doctors did not let fathers into the room where chlidbirth was happening, termed then the "lying-in room." in fact, i'm pretty sure it's only after the 1980s that men attending the birth became commonplace. aashi dont cry abt women's rights rn don't cry about women's righ--- gojo would kill any doctor for even insinuating that he couldn't join you during the birth.

when it's confirmed that you are with child, gojo is hit with a lot of feelings. (and no, it is not surprise --- your marital bed is far too active for that to be a surprise.) at first, fear and responsiblity whack at his chest, threatening to bury him with the ever-constant anxiety of duty that he has faced his entire life. but, soon, it is overpowered with love. love that he's gained with you, and he almost tears up at the fact that your body is so potent---that it can create life. and that life is created from the love you and him share.

unfortunately, that time period had a lot of...controversial beliefs regarding pregnancy and what pregnant women should do. so im going to throw them out the window for sake of fiction!

satoru parades you at every party, revelling in your glow as you're swollen with his child.

at night, he talks to your belly, blowing raspberries on it (much to your chagrin) and talking to your baby about his day. he almost tears up whenever he feels a kick.

anytime he's up late working on ledgers, he takes a break and goes to your shared room, where he gently touches your belly while laying down to relax before going back to work.

he does not let you travel much and urges you to rest. in the mornings, he is willing to humor your every mood swing. sometimes he even gets a cocky remark in there --- but thens soon learns not to do that when you start throwing pillows at him and chasing him down with your huge belly weighing you down :( even if he does get attacked, you're kind of adorable

he really tries not to pounce on you. it's really hard with your breasts and tummy swollen, stirring something deep inside of him. to release stress, he trains and works on archery more. so he's basically adonis every time you get even a glimpse of his bare torso.

he's only a few days into his self-imposed sex ban when he hears you calling out for help while in the bath. it's nothing urgent, but gojo rushes to get there regardless. he sees you struggling to clean parts of your body---which he helps you out with, of course---but he kind of loses control when he sees your soapy tits :(

[minksstinks1]

A short fic of mine in progress (also on Ao3)

What a Nerd, Chapter 1

Ford Pines x Reader

Summary:

Ford Pines is an awkward, introverted university guy who doesn't expect to get attention from someone such as you. He's unfamiliar with romance and isn't quite sure what he's doing in general, but he's trying his absolute best.

You two are immediately drawn to eachother and aren't sure why exactly, but you both seem to be incredibly happy to have one another in the end.

---------♡

Working at the local library could be incredibly boring and isolating at times, but it had at least given you a quiet place to study while you waited for anyone to approach you to ask for help- which wasn't often.

You'd think that the closest library to your local university, Backupsmore, would be filled with students constantly, but you had to again remind yourself that this university was considered one of the lowest of the lows. 90% of the people would do the absolute bare minimum to pass their classes and get their degrees to move far far away from this town.

All of them, except for one you had noticed.

A man who came in almost every day with a bag that looked like it weighed more than him, and he would stay until closing time. You'd never seen him say a word or come in with anyone else. He'd move to the middle of all the bookshelves at the left of the entrance, and would study for hours like his life depended on it. Weirdly enough, you had never seen him actually check-out any books from the library. You wondered if he knew he was allowed to do that or not.

Some days, it seemed like he was studying for fun, but other times he'd stress himself out so badly, he'd leave looking like he'd got in a nasty cat fight. Brown hair messy, clothes disheveled and sweaty, and looking like he hadn't slept in days. You speculated on how long he'd actually stay in the library every day if there was no closing time.

It was a typical, quiet day as always. You were scanning over your book when you heard the large library doors creak open. Cold winter air rushed in, causing a harsh shiver to climb up your spine. You looked up and saw the same familiar man again. After barely catching a glimpse of his face, you watched him swiftly make his way towards his usual spot. It seemed he had a routine and stuck with it, he seems the type.

You attempted to get back to studying once more, but it seemed practically impossible. The words began to blur together and everything had suddenly become ten times more boring than previously. You weren't sure what it was specifically, but today you were particularly captivated by this quiet, peculiar man.

'I have to know what he's up to every day.'

'Does he study the same thing, or multiple?'

Thoughts swarmed your head.

'Is this even for his classes?'

You stood up and looked around for an excuse to head over there. Your eyes landed on the nearby half-filled book cart. Perfect. Your prayers were being answered today, you thought as you rushed towards the cart and began pushing it around, actually getting a good chance to do your job for once. You knew you couldn't immediately go right towards his little station he had set up; that would be too suspicious.

As you put books away lazily, you kept looking over your shoulder in the aisle to make sure he wasn't leaving for any reason. He seemed so sweet, you didn't want to freak him out accidentally. Maybe he just wanted to be left alone completely and that's why he was so secluded. Thoughts raced through your head, filling you with an overwhelming anxiety. Trying to get you to turn back at all costs and give it up.

You weren't quite sure what drew you to this boy so strongly, but it must be for a good reason.

Finally, after several agonizingly long minutes, you ended up in the same isle as that same man. He glanced up at you for only a moment when he heard the cart approaching and you pretended to be looking at something else. He then immediately went back to his intensive studying, brown eyes inspecting every word carefully, but quickly as well. You weren't sure why, but this made your face heat up slightly. He was always working so hard and was definitely the most nerdy guy you had ever seen, but you meant that in the most endearing sense you could.

You began to put books away and when you had a moment, peered over your shoulder and quickly checked over one of the numerous books he had open. Deciding to be bold for once, you took a deep breath and turned towards him.

"I take it you major in physics?" You softly spoke, you didn't want to startle him. "But I can't imagine you'd come in here every day for hours to study only that."

Ford was snapped out of his focus and looked around, completely caught off guard. "I- uh- pardon?" His eyes finally landed on you, looking right down at him. "Oh, uhm, yes- I mean- no," He nervously fiddled with his hands under the desk and took a moment to collect himself.

"I mean I DO major in physics, but I also study hyper-advanced engineering, fifth-dimensional calculus," he began counting on his fingers. You were absolutely shocked at how many things he was taking on in this simple university. "-Applied quantum phase theory, but that's just for fun, of course." He then got to his sixth finger and once he realized, immediately hid his hands under the table once more. Lucky for him, you barely noticed this detail. You assumed he was just nervous.

"Wow, I can't believe you're at Backupsmore doing all this." The surprise on your face was visible, though you were smiling still. "Why not attend some elite college or something? I'm sure you'd be able to get a scholarship or something."

He immediately cringed thinking about his past highschool incident with West Coast Tech and his brother. He wasn't quite sure what you wanted or why you were talking to him. In his eyes, you didn't seem the type to speak to people like him with kindness. He felt a pit in his stomach assuming that you were probably just making fun of him.

"Yeah, well, I'm here now." He spoke, bluntly.

You were a little taken aback by his sudden change in tone. Had you upset him somehow? That same exact feeling in your stomach was now present, almost as if it were mirroring his.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted," you began. "Or if I said something wrong... It's just that I noticed you work quite hard here about every single day and I'm impressed!" You gave him another soft smile, hoping to lighten the tone.

'About every single day?' He wondered how you knew that at first. It then hit him that you actually WORKED here as assistant librarian. He passed by you every time he came in here and he was just now realizing you were the same person? He started to feel a bit bad that he hadn't ever actually spoken to you before this at all.

"Oh, yes! I uhm," he was attempting to quickly think of something to say. Maybe you weren't as bad as he thought you were after all, and that you were genuinely interested in having a conversation with him. This made him feel even worse knowing that he was the one to always be judged by the other kids in school for how he looked on the outside considering his extra fingers, and now he believed he was doing practically the same to another in his own head. He stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking up once more,

"I apologize if I was a bit short with you, it's just that I assumed you were here to tease me," he nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "-but, I shouldn't have assumed that; it was rude of me."

You wondered what would've made him think that you were going to tease him. Was this a common problem with him? You started to feel for him and looked down at him kindly. "It's alright. I promise, I'm genuinely interested right now."

He lightly tugged at the back of his own hair at your response. He was so anxious right now and didn't know how to contain it, but he appreciated your genuine words and gave a small smile back. Your gaze was practically killing him.

"Well, I'll let you be," you placed your last book back on the shelf for this section. Taking the cart handle in your gentle grasp, you began to leave, not not before looking over your shoulder one last time at the man. "By the way, the library closes in about twenty minutes."

The man watched you leave and once you turned the corner, he let go of the piercing air in his lungs that he didn't know he was holding in. He wiped the excessive sweat off of his hands onto his jeans before trying to get back to work.

If it wasn't clear, he wasn't exactly the most social type. People didn't typically approach him to converse with friendly intentions, so you caught him off guard. He felt a bit out of practice with talking to new people... which he had felt like all his life, but especially now since all the people he pretty much talked to these days were his dorm mate and his mother on the phone.

It's not to say that he disliked talking to you, it was just a very different and uncommon interaction for him. He almost wanted you to talk to him more.

He then noticed that two rows of bookshelves down, you were returning the rest of the books on the cart back to their original places. He leaned back on his chair carefully to get another look at you, attempting to make it as least obvious as possible. He couldn't deny that you were very pretty to him, which is part of the reason why he was confused that you were talking to him. He wondered what someone like you was doing in a dusty old library, as you came off as more of the average outgoing partying type.

He quickly re-adjusted his chair back to normal when you turned back towards his way. He had just met you and was worried he was going to freak you out unintentionally. He obviously wasn't trying to, he was just incredibly awkward, though also curious.

Curious about you.

The last couple minutes of closing, he stayed staring right down at his watch, completely zoning out. The man was completely caught up in his work one moment, and then felt his brain turning to mush the next. He didn't quite understand what was happening, but before he knew it, both hands struck eight on the clock and he had to leave. He swiftly gathered up his belongings and shoved the rest of his books in his large backpack. After struggling with closing his bag for a moment, he eventually was able to zip it up like normaland head out.

He was worried about staying to late as he didn't want to be an inconvenience for you- something which he never took into account before today apparently it seemed.

He began to leave and as he passed by your desk where you were gathering up your own items, he swallowed thickly and spoke,

"Well, uhm, see you tomorrow, I presume?" He begins to sweat again. 'Oh god,' he thought. Was he making a big mistake?

You look up at him. "Hm? Oh, oh! Yes, definitely!" You say, a little too enthusiastically for your own liking.

He gives a relieved smile at your response and can leave comfortably knowing his interaction with you went well.

Before he was officially out the door, you shouted out one last thing before he left, "Be safe walking around campus tomorrow, I heard it's going to be icy out!"

"Thank you, will do!" He waved back without turning around.

When the door shut and the cold air subsided, you both thought the same thing to yourself,

'I never got their name.’

[rainbowchaox]

Tango learned the hard way why Scar and Impulse told him to watch Jimmy on red life- the birds can't help over preen from the stress and Jimmy ends up with very thinned out wings, which stressed Tango out so his flames get unstable, which stresses jimmy out more which-

It’s okay Tango has kidnap Jimmy privileges (with consent). It’s one of the unspoken rules. Jimmy and Tango need to have nesting time between sessions. It’s for the mental well being of their favorite Blaze and canary. (It’s really funny tango is the off switch for bird anxiety instincts)

[supernova-stardust]

i have the second chapter of this almost done yall (ideally posting it tomorrow or saturday, fingers crossed!!) the depression has been depressioning and i had some health stuff going on 😮‍💨 here’s a little snippet of a scene i DO have finished though as thanks for being so patient with me

discussion of sui after the break, but it’s mostly lighthearted i swear - 968 words of platonic evan & regulus

Regulus was surprised to find that he was able to focus on writing much longer this morning than he had in a long time. Instead of staring at the screen wallowing at the fact that no words came to him, he was able to write a few pages as the cafe got busier throughout the morning. When someone sat at his table, he was almost able to ignore them with his headphones blocking out the sounds around him and his face buried in his laptop. It wasn’t until he felt a sharp kick to his shin that he even glanced up from his laptop, glaring as he ripped his headphones off his ears. 

"Hey—" Immediately, his face softened at the man sitting across from him. "Oh, hey Evan."

"Oh, hey Evan. Are you fucking kidding me?" He kicked Regulus again, this time with more malice. "You act weird for a week, send me some cryptic goodbye text, and disappear for weeks. I had to find out from your brother what happened. And all I get is oh, hey Evan."

"To be fair, Sirius told me he updated you, so I figured you weren’t worried anymore."

"Of course I was fucking worried. You’re my best friend." Evan looked at him with so much sadness in his eyes that it made Regulus squirm under his gaze. "I’m still worried. Barty says I shouldn’t be, that they wouldn’t have discharged you if you weren’t okay, but I know you. I know you know how to manipulate them into thinking you’re fine. You know how to make all of us think you’re fine when you’re really not."

"Barty is right,” Regulus replied, choosing to ignore the rest of what Evan said. “I’m fine."

"See, that actually makes me think that you’re the exact opposite of fine. Barty is never right and you’re always the first one to say it."

Regulus laughed at that. "Okay, okay. Fine. I’m stable, how’s that for an answer?"

"Now that, I’ll actually believe." Evan said as he raked his dark fingers through his platinum curls. "Did your life experiences give you any inspiration for your book?"

And just like that, Regulus was forgiven and all was back to normal with his best friend. He knew things between them would be fine, even after that first night in the hospital. In fact, the only thing that he didn’t have anxiety about was whether or not Evan would forgive him. He had stressed about everything and everyone else, even what Barty thought about him consumed Regulus’ thoughts for a time, but he knew Evan would always accept him no matter what. Despite his attempts at avoiding him all throughout their college years, every year they ended up being dorm roommates again. Later, Evan would admit that he had requested to be roomed with Regulus because he loved having such a quiet and tidy roommate. But eventually they grew attached to one another, able to communicate non-verbally in ways that he had never been able to with anyone other than his own brother. They respected one another and as time went on, their respect blossomed into a friendship that was unshakable. When Regulus had returned to their dorm after Sirius showed up in his life again, Evan was the one who convinced him to trust that his brother wanted to be a part of his life. Evan was the one who saw him sob uncontrollably over his brother and their lost time together, never once judging him. Evan was always the one who could get through to Regulus, no matter how mentally unstable he had become.

When Evan had started dating Barty, Regulus had thought that Evan was the crazy one. Barty was known on campus as a party animal–loud, unhinged, and untamed. They had met at a party that Evan insisted Regulus attend with him. Barty had offered them some pills, which they both swallowed without even questioning. They drank a series of shots together, and the three of them had become inseparable since then. Surprisingly, Barty was often the voice of reason among their little group. Despite his poor short term decision making skills—evidenced by the stick-and-poke tattoos that littered his body and the drugs often coursing through his veins—Barty was relatively level-headed. He could look at things in calculated ways that neither Regulus nor Evan ever could, balancing the weight of risk involved in everything that they did. Regulus’ anxieties often clouded his decisions, always assuming the worst outcome, and Evan simply didn’t care to think that far ahead, preferring to live in the moment and practice the mindfulness that he’d learned in his years of yoga. In a strange way, Barty and Evan seemed to have always been made for each other, and over the years Regulus shifted from feeling envious of their easy love to feeling relief that they had each other and still kept him close, never making him feel like a third-wheel or a burden.

"You know, jumping off a bridge does have its perks," Regulus said dryly. "I have been feeling inspired to write my novel again. It’s like a fresh start."

"Oh, fuck off. Your novel is a murder mystery, not some prose about the meaning of life."

"Yeah, and now I know what it feels like to nearly drown. I’m thinking of changing the entire method of murder now." Regulus sipped at his coffee as Evan balked at him, clearly unsure if Regulus was joking or not. "In other news, I have a date tonight."

"Show me his profile." Evan didn’t miss a beat at the subject change and held out his hand expectantly for Regulus’ phone. "You may say that you’re mentally stable, but I know your taste in men sucks regardless of your mental state."

A Habit to Kick (The Age-Old Curse)

A few weeks ago, Regulus Black jumped off a bridge. It's not that he really wanted to die, but he didn't really want to live either. He didn't think anyone would care one way or another, if he's honest. Now he's stuck learning how to live.

James Potter was used to seeing Reg every day at the cafe he worked in, until one day he stopped coming in. When he finally sees the guy he's been crushing on come back into the cafe, he knew he had to take his chance at asking him out on a date.

***This fic deals with heavy themes of depression, lack of a will to live, and suicide, but will have a happy ending***

wip, word count: 6,163, jegulus end game, established wolfstar

read on ao3 or the first full chapter after the break

(I posted about half of this chapter, unedited, earlier this week on this account as a teaser, but this is the full chapter and has been fully edited - expect sporadic updates of this fic posted here and on ao3.)

Regulus thought he knew loneliness before, but nothing prepared him for the emptiness that he was left with upon returning home after his hospitalization. One of the stipulations of his discharge was that he couldn’t stay home alone for the first couple of weeks and so his older brother, Sirius, trailed through the door behind him with a gym bag full of clothes and other things he deemed necessary. He closed the door to Regulus’ apartment behind him then dropped the bag on the floor next to him as he kicked off his combat boots. Regulus stared at the mismatched socks on his feet, one green and one blue, and wondered if there would ever be a time when he learned to care so little about details like that. Where Sirius learned to care less about what other people think about him and the way he presented himself, Regulus internalized perfection in every facet of his life. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Regulus said as he turned away and walked further into his apartment that felt less like home than it ever did. He couldn’t say that he found comfort in the hospital, far from it, but something about his stay made everything here feel less and less like his.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice was thick with concern as he hung his leather jacket on the hook in the entryway. “Can’t we just chill for a bit first? Maybe watch a movie or something?”

“I’m not gonna kill myself in the shower, Sirius,” he shot over his shoulder and kept walking towards the bathroom. “But I might if I don’t wash the filth from the hospital off my skin.”

Sirius stormed up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around to look him in the eye. “Don’t fucking joke like that. Not yet. I really thought I lost you, you know.” His eyes welled with tears and his face paled. Before Regulus could comprehend what was happening, he was being pulled into a tight embrace. He was pretty sure he’s been hugged more times in the past few weeks than he ever had in his entire life.

Regulus found himself rubbing Sirius’ back, internally cringing at the idea of soothing his brother when he was the one who was pushed so far by the demands of his everyday life that he opted to end it. “I promise to stop making jokes about killing myself for one week if you let me go take a shower, deal?”

“Leave the door open?” Sirius asked as he pulled away and wiped away the tears that had spilled down his cheeks.

“If it’ll make you feel better, sure.”

“It will.”

“Fine,” Regulus agreed as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. He shucked off his clothes and tossed them into the hamper. The hoodie and sweats were clean just a couple of hours ago, but he smelled so strongly of hospital and sanitizer that he deemed them dirty already. He would probably need to wash them multiple times before he’d be able to get the smell fully out of them and even then, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to see those particular clothes ever again. 

He scrubbed at his skin, washing himself at least a half a dozen times before his skin turned pink and he decided that he smelled enough like his typical cedar and sea salt soap to be considered clean. His hair is next. The hospital-provided 3-in-1 product had caused his usual soft waves to matte and lay flat on his head, so he took his time scrubbing with his shampoo a few times. When he deemed his hair finally clean, he slathered more conditioner than he would typically ever use and gently detangled his curls with his fingers. With his hair smooth and his fingers pruned, he finally turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He nearly tripped over Sirius sitting on the floor with his back against the wall as he stepped out of the bathroom. Sirius banged his head on the wall when he looked up at Regulus with a sheepish smile, one leg bent close to his body and the other outstretched across the narrow hallway. “Sorry, I was worried.”

“Are you gonna be like this the whole time?”

“At least for a few weeks,” he folded his arms and tucked both legs up towards his body then rested his cheek on his arms as he looked up at his younger brother. “I’m a bit clingy now, Moony has encouraged my bad behavior and I’m afraid you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“You’re literally 28, you’re not old.”

Sirius barked a laugh and tucked his feet under himself so he could stand up. “You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Regulus deadpanned as he walked past Sirius to his bedroom so he could put on a fresh change of clothes. 

When Sirius had started dating Remus, or Moony as he tended to call him, Regulus knew their parents wouldn’t be happy, but he hadn’t thought it would change the trajectory of all of their lives. Sirius had decided to show their parents, rather than tell them, about his new boyfriend by bringing him home for Sunday dinner. Growing up Catholic, Sundays were a day reserved for devotion to God and family. Sirius was in college, Regulus a senior in high school still living at home, and had told their parents that he had been seeing someone special for a few months. Their parents invited Sirius and “the lovely lady” for dinner and instead it was Remus who walked through the door with his fingers interlaced with Sirius’. That was the most tense and silent meal that had ever occurred at the Black household. 

When Sirius had returned home for the summer, their parents gave him an ultimatum: conversion therapy or be disowned. Sirius had packed his bags that night. 

Regulus hadn’t heard from Sirius for a few months after that. He got accepted into his first choice college and tried to distract himself with schoolwork. He avoided getting close with any of his classmates and did his best to make himself scarce when his dorm mate, Evan, was around. He’d go into a local cafe with his noise canceling headphones and bury himself in studying while drinking more coffee than was probably healthy. On one of those days, Sirius had plopped himself in the seat across from him and glowered. His hair was longer, half of it pulled away from his face in a messy bun, and he had a few tattoos visible on his neck, collarbone, and knuckles. 

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?” Sirius had asked when Regulus wrenched his headphones away from his ears. 

“The fuck? You’re the one not answering me.” Regulus had slammed his laptop shut and returned the glare that Sirius was giving him. 

Turned out, their parents had blocked the brothers from being able to communicate. When Regulus had confronted them about it, they claimed it was for Regulus’ own good. They didn’t want their ‘only son to be influenced by sinners.’ At that, Regulus had laughed and said that he’d known he was gay since he was a child. He hadn’t spoken to his parents since. Their Uncle Alphard had taken pity on the brothers and helped them both to survive since being disowned.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Sirius yelled from outside his bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Do you really have to ask?” Regulus tugged his shirt on as he shouted back, annoyed at even being asked when Sirius already knew the answer.

He heard Sirius groan before he yelled back, “don’t you ever get sick of watching 10 Things I Hate About You ?”

“No, actually.” Regulus said flatly, walking into the living room to see Sirius sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote. “There’s something soothing about watching Patrick fuck up so royally and still win the girl at the end.”

“You need more therapy.”

“Obviously. Now put the movie on, I’ll make popcorn.”

***

In the morning, Regulus went through his morning routine and felt his nerves settle for the first time in weeks. The thing no one talked about when you’re hospitalized is how disrupted your everyday life is. Obviously, there’s the whole ‘in the hospital’ bit, but it was the little routines that calmed Regulus’ nerves. With his particular brand of mental illness, they always tried to disrupt his routines. Exposure therapy or something, they said. He thought it was bullshit. 

And so he found comfort in waking up at exactly seven, stretching for fifteen minutes, brushing his teeth, showering, and being meticulous about his skincare and styling his hair. All of the little things that he had taken for granted in his daily life that suddenly became impossible to uphold when other people were checking in on him and watching his every move. He got dressed in an over-sized burgundy knit sweater and black trousers and grabbed his bag. Pulling out his headphones, he slipped them around his neck, then double checked that his laptop was safely inside and headed towards the living area towards the front door. Sirius was laying on the couch with blankets wrapped tightly around his body but surprisingly, was awake and staring at his phone.

“Didn’t think you’d be awake yet,” he said to Sirius as he grabbed his favorite black oxfords and slid them on.

Sirius grunted sleepily in response. “Didn’t get much sleep, if I’m honest. Your couch sucks.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Regulus said blandly. “I know they said I couldn’t be alone, but I’m fine—”

“Reggie, I’m staying.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Me staying is the only reason you were allowed to leave, you know that. You were at that meeting.”

“Fine,” Regulus relented, knowing that arguing with Sirius was like arguing with a brick wall. “I’m going out, I’ll be gone for a few hours. Do you want coffee when I come back?”

“Are you going to Galactic Grounds?”

“I go there every day, Sirius. They’re the only place that makes good coffee around here.” Plus the guy who worked there was cute as hell, but Regulus refused to say that part out loud to his older brother. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“Yeah, I’d love coffee. Text me when you get there?”

“Sirius—”

“And when you’re headed home? I promise I’ll chill out in a few days, just humor me. Please?”

“Fine, bye.”

“Love you, Reggie.”

“Love you, Sirius.”

***

As he made his way into the cafe, Regulus pulled his headphones down to hang around his neck. The shop was generally pretty quiet, but the whirring of machines and general chatter were enough to make him flinch anyway. He stood in line, waiting as patiently as possible and mindlessly scrolling on his phone. When he looked up and glanced behind the counter, he saw the cute guy who always makes his coffee just right. James.

James looked up from the machine where he was steaming milk and fumbled the little metal pitcher. The smile on his face lit up the entire shop. “Reg, hey!” James seemingly abandoned the steaming milk to stare at him until the customer at the front of the line cleared their throat. James’ cheeks turned red from embarrassment as he apologized to the customer and then directed himself back at Regulus. “Can you stay so we can catch up?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be here for a while. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” He really didn’t. The novel he had been working on wasn’t exactly going anywhere. Besides, his and Sirius’ Uncle Alphard made sure that all of their needs were met, so ‘work’ wasn’t exactly a necessity. It was just something to keep himself busy and to take his mind off things. ‘Things’ mostly being coping with mental illness and childhood trauma, if he’s honest. 

Regulus started to pull out his wallet to pay for the coffee when James stopped him. “Nah,” he said. “On the house. It’s just a black coffee, Reg.”

Regulus cringed a bit at feeling like he owed back a favor, but tried to shake the feeling. This was something they had worked on extensively in group therapy; sometimes people just wanted to do nice things for you. Let them. And so he thanked James, picked up the coffee, and brought it over to his usual table in the corner. He settled into the comfortable booth and pulled out his laptop, staring at the screen asking for his password while he processed the fact that James wanted to catch up with him. Catch up? They had never even had a conversation beyond simple pleasantries.

He moved to readjust his headphones over his ears when he noticed James throwing his apron on the rack near the bar and striding over to where he’s seated.

“Hey,” James said as he noisily pulled a chair out so he could sit. As he sat, he scooched himself in, the chair dragged and screeched the whole time. Regulus did his best not to make an expression at the sounds, but clearly his face betrayed him because James quickly apologized, his cheeks slightly pink.

“Hi,” Regulus tentatively replied. The rehearsed small talk and polite niceties are fine for transactional interactions, but sitting here with James staring at him? He felt exposed and unsure of himself. “So,” he tried. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” James grinned. “How about you? You usually come in daily and I haven’t seen you for weeks. Did you do anything fun? I missed seeing you.” 

Regulus flinched at that. Of course sweet, wholesome James would immediately want to know what fun and exciting things he got up to while he was away. It would never even cross his mind that Regulus had disappeared because he tried to kill himself, jumping off a nearby bridge into the river. He’d been hospitalized for weeks. “No,” Regulus said in as level of a tone as he could manage. “I didn’t do anything fun, but I did do lots of crafts.”

“Oh, uh— Okay. That’s cool. I didn’t know you were crafty.”

“I’m not.”

James stared at him in confusion before laughing, bright and carefree. “Fuck, you’re funny Reg. I don’t even think you mean to be.”

“Look, I do have a lot of work to do—”

“Sorry, yeah. My break is almost over too, but I just wanted to… I know this isn’t professional or anything, and honestly I’ve been avoiding it because I know this is a weird dynamic where I make you the perfect coffee every day and you don’t wanna lose that in case it goes poorly, but I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while and just— You not being around for a bit made me worried I wouldn’t get a chance to ask you again, so while I still have the guts, will you let me take you out sometime?”

“You want to go out on a date… with me?” Regulus had never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. This sunshine golden retriever of a man wanted to take him out on a date? 

“I mean— Sorry if I read you wrong, if you’re not interested in guys, or uh… me, that’s cool. I’ll keep making your perfect coffee and no harm done. I just figured I’d shoot my shot, y’know?”

“I am— Interested. In guys.” Regulus paused for a moment, feeling awkward and unsure of himself. He hasn’t had anyone ask him out on a proper date before. Typically, he just went about things the old fashioned way: dating apps and swiping until he found a reasonable match. It never went well enough for a second date, but it never went poorly enough that it stopped him from the cycle either. When he looked at James, he realized that he hadn’t explained that he wanted to go on the date. “I’m interested in you too,” he quickly added. “I’ve always thought you were cute, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable at work.”

James beamed then handed him his phone. “Can you enter your number? I’ll text you and we can make more concrete plans?”

At first, Regulus was shocked by the casualness at which James just… handed him his phone. Then he realized that James probably never had parents who pried or jealous ex boyfriends who demanded to read every text exchange. He entered his phone number in a new text and texted himself the star emoji so that he had James’ number too and handed back his phone.

James glanced at his phone and then asked, “Why the star emoji?”

“For my name.”

James stared at him in confusion, but as he opened his mouth to ask he heard his co-worker calling out for him to come back from his break. “Fuck, I’m late. Sorry—”

“Go, James.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later okay?”

“Okay.” Regulus smiled softly as he watched James stand up from the chair across from him and rush back to his place behind the bar. He swore under his breath as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, knowing that it was probably Sirius freaking out even though they’ve shared their locations for years now. Fishing out his phone, he rolled his eyes as he read the text.

[Sirius]: i know you’re at galactic

[Regulus]: then you really didn’t need me to text you when i got here did you?

[Sirius]: whatever. 

[Sirius]: don’t stay too long, you have therapy later

[Sirius]: and remember to bring me back coffee

[Sirius]: why don’t you have a coffee maker at your apartment anyway?

[Regulus]: i literally come here every day, i don’t need a coffee maker when i pay for it to be made for me

[Sirius]: spoiled brat

[Regulus]: whatever, i’ll be back in an hour with coffee in hand

[Sirius]: you’re my favorite brother

[Regulus]: still your only brother

Regulus pulled his headphones over his ears and hit play on his favorite writing playlist before he placed his phone face down on the table. He typed in the password on his laptop and opened the file for his novel and just… stared at it. He pretended to read it while he sipped his coffee, but all thoughts in his head circled back to James. After about fifteen minutes, his cup was empty and he had written absolutely nothing. He gingerly closed his laptop and packed it away, deciding that his time would be better spent at home than trying to pretend that he wasn’t staring at James every chance he found.

He went up to the counter and pulled his headphones off when James came over with a questioning look. “Are you done working already?” he asked.

“Couldn’t focus,” Regulus answered softly. “Can I get another coffee to go, but with cream and sugar?”

“Have you decided that you finally have taste buds?” James joked as he began making the coffee.

“Very funny,” Regulus snarked back. “No, my brother is staying with me for a bit, so I’m bringing this back for him.”

“Oh that’s nice, is he visiting from out of town?” James placed the coffee on the counter in front of him.

Regulus hoped that his flinch wasn't noticeable. He didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to have a filter around James. Usually, he’d avoid giving any details of his life to anyone. The less they knew, the easier interactions were. The less they knew, the less he had to work to figure out how to phrase things so no one suspects anything was wrong with him. “No, he lives nearby. He’s just staying at my place for a few weeks.”

“You two must be close then,” James said. 

Regulus wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer that, so he shrugged vaguely before he placed enough cash on the counter to cover both this and his own coffee from earlier, plus a generous tip. “See you tomorrow,” he shot over his shoulder as he headed out the door.

***

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” Sirius said when he came in the door. Regulus kicked off his shoes and padded his way into the living room where Sirius was still lounging on the couch, exactly where he left him. He handed him the coffee and sat on the couch next to him, shoving his legs out of the way to make room. “You told me you’d text me when you were on your way back.”

“I mean, I really didn’t.” Regulus groaned as he leaned back into the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “You coerced me with guilt to agree to text you against my will.”

“What else are brothers for if not to guilt each other?” Sirius asked as he took a sip of the coffee and practically moaned into the cup. “Fuck, that place makes the best coffee.”

“James,” Regulus said towards the ceiling.

“Huh?”

“James makes the best coffee. He gave me his number today.”

“Oh shit, is that the cute guy with the glasses?”

“Aren’t you happily committed to Remus?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes,” Sirius said. “Are you gonna go on a date with him?”

“Do you really think I should?” Regulus asked. “I don’t exactly have my shit together, what with just trying to kill myself and all.”

“Who cares? If he’s the right guy, he won’t care if you have your shit together.” Sirius answered. “I’ve never had my shit together and Remus still loves me. It’s worth a shot.”

Before Regulus could answer, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Sirius put his coffee down and stared at him expectantly. 

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna check your phone?”

“I—” 

Regulus never got to finish his sentence because Sirius threw himself at him, shoving a hand into his pocket and fishing out his phone. 

“Fuck off,” Regulus snapped as he tried to grab his phone out of Sirius’ hand, but Sirius dangled the phone just out of reach.

“It’s James, ” Sirius sing-songs.

“Give it back, I’m serious,” Regulus realized his mistake in word choice before Sirius got a chance to bark a laugh. “Don’t even, just give me my fucking phone.”

“Reggie, you won’t let me read your texts with James and you won’t let me make my favorite, very funny, and not at all overused, joke.” Sirius gave him a mock pout. “Do you even love me?”

“There’s not even anything to read,” Regulus said as he practically climbed on top of Sirius to grab his phone. He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes. “He literally just texted ‘hi, it’s James.’ Was that really worth wrestling over?”

Sirius shrugged. “It was fun all the same.”

“You’re impossible.”

Regulus felt his phone vibrate again and he quickly glanced down to read the message on his home screen without unlocking his phone.

[James]: tell me what the star means

“How long should I wait to reply to him, do you think?”

“Huh?”

“What’s the appropriate amount of time to wait to reply to a text?” Regulus rephrased his question, looking at his brother expectantly.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice softened. “If you like him, you should just answer him. You don’t have to play games like that.”

“I don’t—” Regulus let out a breath. “I don’t want to seem desperate. Or clingy.”

“Replying to a double text from a guy who’s clearly interested in you isn’t going to come off as desperate, it’ll just let him know you’re on the same page. Besides, as soon as you open that he’s gonna see the read receipt.”

Regulus wasn’t sure that his brother was right, but he decided that if James was already texting him, then he could text him back. He pulled out his phone and opened the texts between them before he overthought what he was going to say. 

“You know,” Sirius said, interrupting Regulus’ thoughts. “He’s probably freaking out just as much as you are, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Fuck off,” Regulus shoved at his brother. “You know no one freaks out more than I do, that’s just mean.” He stood up and paced around the living room while Sirius watched him with a smirk. When he had sent the star emoji earlier, he had intended for it to come off as mysterious and cool, but now he just felt dumb.

[Regulus]: my full name is regulus, like the star

He shot off the text before he could think about it anymore, knowing that no matter what he wasn’t going to feel good about how he phrased an answer to James’ question. Before he had even locked his phone again, James had texted him back.

“I told you he was interested,” Sirius said as he pulled the blankets around himself again and settled back into the couch.

[James]: that explains the gravitational pull I feel towards you

Regulus rolled his eyes. Of course James would be the type to come up with something that cheesy.

[Regulus]: and that is exactly why I always introduce myself as reg

[James]: sorry, couldn’t resist

[James]: will you still go on a date with me? :(

[Regulus]: only if you promise to never use another star themed pick up line again

[James]: pinky promise

“Oh my fucking god,” Sirius said. His voice pulled Regulus out of his head and made him realize that he was literally just standing in the middle of his living room, staring at his phone, and smiling. “You’re fucking giddy over this guy. I mean, look at you. You’re practically blushing! I knew he was cute, but Regulus Arcturus Black, do you have a real, honest to God, crush?”

“I hate you,” Regulus said with less conviction than intended. He flipped his brother off and went to his bedroom, leaving the door open to avoid Sirius having a total meltdown. He plopped onto the bed and opened his phone, seeing another string of texts from James.

[James]: does tomorrow night work for you?

[James]: also, do you like Italian food?

[James]: I could pick you up at 7

[Regulus]: italian at 7 tomorrow sounds perfect

He wondered if he should really be giving James his address, normally he would meet up with guys at a neutral location before going to their place. He really didn’t like having guys come to his apartment, not just because of the whole safety aspect of things, but also he hated the idea of someone snooping around his things or putting things back where they don’t belong. Everything in his home was meticulously placed and organized. Even placing something back in the fridge with the label turned around was enough to set him off some days. He decided that he could decide whether or not to send James his address after therapy today and put his phone on do not disturb so he wouldn’t know if James asked before then. 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully before therapy. He and Sirius had a boring lunch of sandwiches since neither of them knew how to cook a proper meal, then they tidied up the apartment a bit. Really, Regulus cleaned and organized meticulously while Sirius sat on the couch texting Remus, but Regulus decided that was for the best. Sirius staying out of his way was more helpful than him actually helping.

When it was time to leave for therapy, Sirius gave him a ride instead of letting him walk. He only convinced Regulus to let him drive him there and back because sure, the walk there would be fine, but wouldn’t the walk home with a puffy face from crying be worse than a walk of shame at 8am? Regulus really couldn’t argue with that.

Regulus had been to plenty of therapists before. Being a gay son in a Catholic household tended to lend itself pretty well to the whole ‘needing therapy’ thing. He hadn’t been to therapy for a few years before his attempt though, preferring to bury his feelings with things like substances and one night stands, and so the hospital prescribed him twice weekly sessions. One with this new therapist, Horace Slughorn, and one with a group. When the hospital had assigned him to his therapist, he honestly thought the name was a joke. Who the fuck would name their child Horace and why would they hold onto a surname like Slughorn when there was the option to legally change your name to… anything else? But then he remembered that his entire family had named their children after stars and decided to keep all thoughts of criticism to himself.

Walking into Slughorn’s office, the office receptionist made him fill out a ridiculously long questionnaire asking him pointless questions like ‘in the last 2 weeks have you felt hopeless or like life has no meaning?’ Obviously yes, he wouldn’t have been prescribed mandatory therapy if he hadn’t jumped off a fucking bridge, but fine. He answered all the questions and brought the iPad back to the receptionist, then waited. And waited. And waited some more. He checked the time on his phone and realized that Horace was over a half an hour late for his appointment. Great. Not only was he going to have to endure appointments every week, but this therapist was wasting even more of his time by not starting promptly. He already hated him.

When he was called into the office, he sat on a saggy couch and continued to wait until a portly man with a bald head strolled into the room without a care in the world. He sat down and smiled weakly at Regulus and Regulus decided that he hated this man even more than before. Who comes into an appointment nearly three quarters of an hour late and doesn’t even apologize?

“My name is Horace, it’s nice to meet you,” he said as he pulled out a notebook and pen. He looked at Regulus expectantly. Regulus assumed that he was met with sheer disgust based on how his face blanched.

“If you’re going to be late to every appointment, we might as well not even exchange pleasantries. My time is valuable and I don’t tolerate disrespect.”

Slughorn wrote something in his notebook as he grimaced. “Unfortunately, I’m the only therapist with openings in this practice currently, and seeing as you were recently hospitalized, I’m afraid you don’t exactly have the bargaining power here, Mr. Black. Now, do you want to tell me what led to your recent hospitalization?”

“I jumped off a bridge. Surely, you read my chart before I arrived.”

“I did, but I’d much prefer to hear your story from you directly.”

“That’s about it, Horace.”

Therapy continued as expected. Horace pushed for more details and Regulus made him feel as though he were talking to a brick wall. When their session was done, Regulus stopped by the front desk and told the receptionist he would not be returning.

“I— Can I give you a recommendation on where to find better care?” She seemed kind-hearted and so Regulus agreed to take the card she offered for another office nearby without a fight. When he got in the car, dry-eyed and irritated, Sirius laughed.

“That good, huh?”

“Don’t get me started,” Regulus sighed. “Can we get Chinese food? I need to eat so many crab rangoons I forget what that guy’s face looked like.”

“Yeah,” Sirius answered. “Can Moony come? I’m codependent and I miss him.”

“You should go to therapy for that,” Regulus joked before agreeing. Truthfully, he liked Remus. He might have even considered him a friend if he allowed himself to get close enough to the guy. He placed the order for their Chinese food before he turned his phone off ‘do not disturb’. When he looked at his notifications, he saw a handful of texts from James.

[James]: what’s your address?

[James]: sorry, not trying to be weird, just want to pick you up like a proper date

[James]: you can give me a fake address to meet you at if you want

[James]: or we can meet at the restaurant if you’d prefer

“Okay, maybe you were right,” Regulus said to his brother while they waited for Remus to come out to the car.

Sirius mock gasped and clutched at the collar of his shirt. “Did Regulus Black just admit that I, Sirius Black, was right? ”

Of course, at that moment was when Remus got in the back seat of the car and looked between the two brothers. “I leave him with you for one day and his ego is already inflated.”

“Moony,” Sirius twisted himself towards the back seat and planted a quick kiss on Remus’ lips. “Reggie just said I was right, can you believe it?” He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket and took a selfie with Regulus scowling in the background. “I’m gonna frame this.”

“Hey Reg,” Remus said. Regulus noticed that he was careful not to ask how he was. In fact, Remus acted like everything about Sirius staying with his brother, bringing him to and from appointments and getting Chinese takeout all together, instead of being at home with his boyfriend  was completely normal. 

“Hey,” Regulus replied.

“So,” Remus questioned as Sirius began driving towards their favorite Chinese takeaway spot. “What was Sirius right about?”

“Ugh,” Regulus groaned. “This guy at the cafe I like asked me on a date today, so I gave him my number. He’s been texting me trying to plan the date and Sirius said that he was probably overthinking just as much as I was. I didn’t believe him until this guy literally sent me four texts freaking out about how he asked for my address.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at that. “Lemme see.” 

Regulus handed him his phone and waited while Remus read the texts.

“Okay, so the gravitational pull pickup line was smooth. But yeah, don’t leave this poor guy on read any longer, Reg. Answer the man.” Remus handed his phone back.

“What pickup line?” Sirius asked as he pulled into the parking lot. 

“Oh, it was good,” Remus laughed. “Said that being named after a star explained the gravitational pull he felt towards him. Should have used that one myself.”

Sirius laughed so hard at that, he had to wipe away a few tears from his eyes. “Please, Reggie, you’re gonna eat him up. That’s so sweet.”

Regulus crossed his arms and glared at his brother. “Maybe I like sweet.”

“Since when?” Sirius and Remus asked in unison, the former sounding shocked.

“Since I felt like killing myself, I guess. Gotta change something, right?” At that, Regulus got out of the car and headed into the restaurant to grab their giant bag of food. When he came back, the car was eerily silent. 

“Reggie,” Sirius said solemnly as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You promised no suicide jokes for at least a week.”

“Oh, come on,” Regulus groaned as he tilted his head back into the headrest of the seat. “That was hardly a joke.”

“Reg…” Remus started.

“Fine,” Regulus interrupted, his voice cold and cruel. “Sorry, I’ll keep the jokes about what happened to me to myself.”

“It– It didn’t happen to you, Reggie,” Sirius muttered. “You did it to yourself. And to us. We all have to live with the decisions you make too.”

“Sorry,” Regulus said, softening his tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Reggie. I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you. Let’s just try to have a nice night, yeah?”

The car ride home was much more subdued than the ride to the Chinese restaurant was. Regulus took the lull in conversation to shoot James a text with his address and an apology for taking so long to reply. James replied immediately.

[James]: i can’t wait! 

[James]: sorry for being a chronic over texter

[James]: it will happen again

When they arrived at Regulus’ apartment, they put on a mind-numbing movie and sat around the living room eating greasy food and laughing at stupid jokes. Regulus wished he could have had a glass or two of wine, but part of his discharge instructions was to stay sober for at least a month while he continued to adjust to his medications and life outside of the hospital. Regulus ended up fishing out the air mattress from the closet so Remus could crash in the living room with Sirius and they all fell into their bedtime routines.

When he was finally alone in bed, Regulus read over the texts from James again. He had never felt so excited to go on a date with someone before. He thought to himself, though he’d never admit it out loud, that maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t died in that river after all.

[doomfox]

god damn AAWIL is such a perfect movie and I wouldn’t change it for anything but I love the characters I love David and I love Jack and I love the werewolf design and so this is why I enjoy writing them the way I do just pissing each other off David is a passive werewolf and usually annoyed and Jack’s having fun just winding him up they have fun

“Hey David”

“What”

“David”

“What”

“David”

“WHAT”

“........ hi”

“Right that’s it I’m eating what’s left of your face”

[asterroses]

have we thought about enderal today . can we think about enderal today . when will we think about enderal today . ENDERAL ?

[forthewinn]

The fact that Sarah knew this man, knew who he was and what he did made almost everything worse for Winn. Because the reality was that meant that she willingly went into this, and she betrayed everything she stood for when she stole the Intersect and sent it to Winn. It seemed the more time he was trapped in this elevator the more questions he had.

Winn moved to stand against the further wall, shaking as he looked up at her. "How do you know him?" Winn asked as he leaned down to put his hands on his thighs, trying to calm his ever growing anxiety. He was pretty sure he had more panic attacks in the past few months than he had in his entire life. Every turn was something stressful, another way people he loved could get hurt. "What is going on Sarah?"

"Tell your people that I'm gone." She snarls. She's not going back. Not to them. Then they'd know. They'd know that they never actually had the Intersect in their custody. They'd know it was somebody else. So then they'd go through and check boxes on the list of people important to Sarah Walker. Winn would be right at the top of that list.

And then Tommy tries to talk her down. Telling her that this is him being reasonable. That they should be friends again. And she tightens her grip on Winn briefly, although unintentionally. "We were never friends."

She watches as the elevator doors start to slide closed and Tommy watches her with a sadistic smirk. Asking her if she's gonna run, and he almost seems pleased that she's going to. Like he's looking forward to the chase.

When the doors close she lets go of Winn again. She puts as much distance between them as she can in the small space. She never should've sent the Intersect to Winn. She should've kept him so far away from everything she has herself mixed up in. But there's nothing she can do about that now. Aside from try to be smarter than the people who put the target on her back.

[tswwwit]

Will Dipper always have almost no magic of his own, even after being reincarnated? He obviously has a talent for life magic but he can’t really train to get better at it, because he’s using Bill’s magic for it (and we know the latter hates it lol). I just don’t want my guy to be sad and miserable forever🥺 He deserves to become a cool and independent magician! And prove his bullies wrong once and for all!

A reincarnation of Dipper could definitely have more magic of his own! And as clever as he is, there's a bright future ahead of him. Perhaps even one where he's excellent at life magic and healing, and getting a little cocky about his own talents.

Bill, of course, upsets all the plans he had for his life. Again.

The good news is that it's a life where Dipper could use more life magic. Theoretically. The problem there is going to be hashing out how he can use it once they're bonded again.

[souenkun]

It's my birthday today, and I'm now as old as kita shinsuke in the timeskip! 🥳

[malaierba]

Thinking about Karamatsu/Nozomi whole looking through some web weavings, and if I ever write something for them (currently in the phase of trying to come up with key events and organise them chronologically so it makes sense, thematically) I think I'd like this to be one of the take aways

In the event of a bad ending (dunno if I'm strong enough for that though 🫠 SHE CAN CHANGE HIM WITHOUT DYING im better than that), I hope that Karamatsu still finds it in himself to stop being so passive about his life. Like,

To stop waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect answer to dawn on him, and instead take life by reins and... Just start being an active participant in his own life. To embrace self-determination and the risk of committing to something that may not pan out but still forces you to take conscious and mindful action every day.

[ancha-aus]

omg but that sounds so funny?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

dust helps him calm down.

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

but he is just terrified. of everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phantom had to deal with disappointment so often.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i love all these sillies <3

New Age AU (Error's Wacky Wild Plan)

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

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

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

     The town was bustling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

   That was, until, Error spotted it.

   A big building, something that Error recognized only vaguely. 

   It was an amphitheatre. 

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

   This one? Seemed perfectly in-use. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   The lizard seemed to grin at the response.  

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

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

   Oh…

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

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

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

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

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

   The Mage Trials. 

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

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

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

   In just a few moments, Error had decided. 

   This was how he’d prove himself. 

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

.

   Finally. 

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

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

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

   That didn’t matter, though. 

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

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

   “Next!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Another easy one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “Name?”

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

   There was another few breaths of quiet, before, 

   “Age?”

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

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

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

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

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

   “Disqualified.”

   That.

   Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Mm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   He needed this. He needed this. 

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

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

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

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

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

   The knight didn’t even flinch at his declaration. 

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

   Error hesitantly nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

   “...No.” He bit out meekly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   He knew he could manage. 

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

   Good.

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

   There. 

   He stood at the railing behind the stage. 

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

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

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

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

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

   He’d have to make 16, then. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Up.

   Up.

   Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun. 

   Error watched it rise above him. 

   Only. 

   “Shit.” 

   His calculations must’ve been off. He must’ve added a layer too many, or maybe he released it a swing too soon. But he could tell that it wouldn’t clear the top of the arena. 

   Maybe if he had a few more seconds he could’ve used strings to boost it. He could’ve sent a magic gust to lift it further. 

   Not the case.

   He watched as the orb detonated, just like it was supposed to. 

   The wave moved horizontally through the air, and swept across the air above the arena so quickly that it sucked the sand from the top layer and threw it against the tall walls. Error’s footing slipped, and he stumbled to his knees on the stage as the wind whipped and tugged the heavy curtains into the air current as well. 

   It was an almost invisible force, Error had to imagine anyone without a solid grasp of magic would entirely miss it as it spread out. 

  He winced as it finally reached the edges of the arena, where he had just barely managed to fall short of clearing. 

   As the magic passed over the stone and mortar, he saw as it fell. Not in chunks, but crumbled like dust into fine particles. The upper half of every arch at the top of the grand amphitheatre, turned pitch black, then wasted away. 

   He hadn’t meant for it to come in contact with anything. It wasn’t supposed to do anything but harmlessly wave over everyone’s heads. As a show of his strength. That was all.

   Error could only think back to when this had happened before. When he’d accidentally exploded Geno’s favorite mug while metering the strength of his strings. When he’d broken the wheel of a carriage passing through the woods with a wayward slingshot blast. When he’d broken all ten of the large windows in the lecture hall of the academy when he failed to complete a spell the way it was written. When he’d done it too well.

   As he rose to his feet, he half expected the nagging voice of his older brother to be there, chastising him for not being more careful, before taking him home and making him dinner. 

   It wasn’t that, though. 

   He watched out across the sand. The king had his head tilted only slightly, looking up at Error’s lofty mistake. At the clean cut where stone now met unbothered air. His knight, the one in all black, was leaned ever so slightly towards him. They must’ve been speaking. Or, at least, the knight was. 

   About Error, he had no doubt. 

   He stayed in place, watching, swaying a bit with the residual force of his own spell lingering in his fingertips. Every instinct which told him to run and to hide were smothered and stamped out by the ligering fact that he had nowhere to go. Without his brothers, there was no one to help him. He knew it. 

   Even in front of this crowd. These mages. This King and his knights. He couldn’t bring himself to move offstage. Some part of him, deep down, childishly wanted the King to announce that he was impressed. To parade him offstage and let him experience what Geno had. Let him know why Geno left. 

   The King’s single eyelight swam back over to look at Error in the silence. 

   Error felt like the world had stopped. 

   It hadn’t.

   There was a clattering of armor and rustling of fabric, suddenly loud in his ears, and he had no time to react as everything came rushing in all at once. 

   Hands. Heavy, gloved hands. Two sets, two hands each wrapped one of his upper arms, and immediately lifted him off the ground. Into the air. 

   Pain flooded into his bones from his soul, like twin lightning strikes, trying to singe the bone and the magic in its core. The pressure wasn’t much, his mind knew that, but his body usually didn’t listen to him. He tried desperately to hold it in. The rampant part of his magic that had been hurting him since he could remember. That made it hard to touch anyone. To shake hands. To hug his brothers. 

   “Let go!” He pleaded, though he wasn’t sure if his voice made any sense. Fresh always told him they couldn’t tell what he was saying when his voice got too bad.

   More pain. He kicked his legs at the open air, and tried to muster control over his strings, just for a moment, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus. 

   And all at once it stopped. 

   Error’s feet were on the ground again, though that promptly became his knees again as he swayed and wavered in the sudden aftermath of his active magic dying down. Receding back into his soul. Because it didn’t need to ‘protect’ him anymore.

   He spotted then, as his vision returned to something aside from the gloves or the sky, that the King was no longer in his throne. In fact, there was a heavy, encompassing, magical weight behind him now. Somewhere very, very close-by.

   He took a deep breath, grounding himself. 

   “We are taking a recess.” Announced a booming voice. Very nearby. It was deep, and felt almost the same as the projection spell from two days prior. Then, more quietly, “You will leave the boy to me. Go ensure no one was injured, then manage the crowd. I’ll make my choice tomorrow at sunrise.” 

   The second bit felt quieter, an edge to the tone that Error didn’t quite like. Considering he must be the boy in question. 

   It was a moment, a few muddled ‘Yes, my king’ s, before Error found a pair of boots stepping before him. His head swam as he looked upwards. 

   The King, he figured that had to be him, was dark. Very dark. Like a living, dripping, shadow. Magic seemed to be all he was made of, an aura radiating from him. Dripping off his back into long slimy worms, twitching as they sat near the ground. He wore a fancy cape, too. One with huge gold clasps on his shoulders, one was shaped like the moon. 

   Error looked to his face last. In hindsight, something that could’ve been very, very bad. He was met with a dripping face. Skeletal. The place where his right socket should’ve sat was covered in that dark substance. The other hollow, with that bright cyan orb staring right back at him. 

   “Can you stand?” His voice came easily, and Error braced himself. 

   Could he?

   He had to, he didn’t want to be touched again. 

   Error took another breath, and managed to rise silently to his feet. 

   “Good,” the King said once he was standing, “Follow me.”

   It was an order he didn’t dare refuse. 

.

.

.

   Error found himself in an odd position. 

   He’d been given time to sit and recover from his magic’s outlash, and now he was sat in a room beneath the bleachers of the arena alongside the King and that knight he’d met before. The other one was guarding the door, he thought. 

   It’d been silent for a while, and it was almost expected when the silence was finally broken. 

   “You said your name is Error, correct?” The King asked, and Error gave a nod of yes. He forced himself to meet the King’s gaze.

   “Dust says that you’re only 12, and our people disqualified you in the first round. Is that right?” 

   Error nodded again. 

   “And Dust even explained to you why you were disqualified?” 

   Another nod. It seemed he’d at least made an impression on the knight. Dust. 

   The King tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, eyelight holding Error’s tightly. 

   “Then, I’ll ask, what brought you to think this was a good choice? To try and become Royal Mage above any cost it might bring?” The king asked, and Error was surprised to find it was a shockingly gentle tone. “Your home, your family, your life. You are so young, why put it all on the line like this?” 

   Oh. 

   It was almost funny. Was this whole thing because the king was some sort of charitycase? So disillusioned by his perfect life that he couldn’t even think of the hardships any random kid could go through? He almost grinned at that, barely keeping his mouth from twitching in a mix of frustration and humor.

   “I wanted to prove myself,” He muttered, “And besides, becoming the Royal Mage would be great.” 

   He waited, waited for the King to inhale, to say something, before, 

   “I’m an orphan.” He spat, finally. “Family abandoned me, house is left behind, expelled from school. I don’t want to keep wandering.” 

   It was basically the truth. This was his big break. His one last chance before he became a hated little vagabond. Maybe even a criminal. Maybe he’d have to go on the run for the rest of his life, live as a nomad. Join a caravan. Those people got stopped a lot though, kingdoms didn’t like them. He’d probably explode some city’s bakery by mistake and get put in jail for-

   “Wait!” Error suddenly exclaimed, breaking free of his thoughts, “Am I in trouble? Am I going to jail??” He asked then. 

   His worries slammed to a grinding halt and he stared wide-eyed at the two before him. Geno had always told him not to go making his big stuff near town, because if the guard caught him he wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He’d end up in jail. Of course, it’d never happened back then because he was always fast enough. Always smart enough to get out of dodge when he broke something or made poor decisions. Here? Here he hadn’t run when he had the chance. 

   The King stared at him, his one eyelight nearly mirroring Error’s in surprise at the question. 

   “I mean,” he started, “You’re young. If I wont let you work for me, I wouldn’t dare put you in prison either.” The King stated, “Though, you did do quite a bit of damage to the theatre.” 

   Error watched him break eye contact finally and look over his shoulder to the Knight stood there. He’d been silently watching Error too. 

   When he had no insight, The king seemed to heave a sigh, and the shadowy extra limbs which draped around him twitched. 

   “You’re sure you have no family? No home?” the King asked him again, and Error nodded.

   The king muttered something under his breath, and shot the Knight another look. The knight shrugged. 

   “I… Will not employ you. Though, I do see talent in you, Error.” the King said carefully, a bit slower in his words than he had been up until now. Almost… unsure. “I will, however, extend to you the title so that you may conduct…” He waved a hand before himself, as though searching for a word, “ You may conduct independent research. If you accept, of course.”

   “You would be free to resend your acceptance at any moment, no strings attached, and may take any work you complete along with you, and any pay you receive would be given to you after your 16th birthday, if you stay that long.” He added, “I’ll have to rewrite the contract, but-”

   “I accept!” 

   Error couldn’t help himself. He was so excited he could puke. The last thing he’d expected was to pull this off. This shitshow of a scheme actually got him the job? He could scream. He could jump up and down for joy. He didn’t, he sat eagerly and tense in his seat instead, but he could’ve. 

   The King seemed to hesitate, for a few breaths, before relaxing. He stood, and offered a hand out slowly to Error. 

   Error stood too, grinning. He could manage this one. He could do it. 

   It was brief, but he grasped the King’s hand and shook it firmly.

   “Dust, will you help Error locate his belongings, and escort him to wherever he is staying tonight? I’ll send Cross to swap with you a bit later. We’ll reconvene in the morning just before sunrise.” 

[phantajam]

my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)