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thecurioustale · 5 months ago

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I Think It's Time to Drop the "Drop-Biden" Faction

Using another one of my limited political credits to infuse my art-oriented tumblr with US politics. Skip this one if you don't go for that stuff.

I've had a few weeks now to take the pulse of what's happening with regard to the whole "Should Biden drop out?" thing going on inside the Democratic Party and across the left, and here's my takeaway:

The drop-Biden faction within the Democratic establishment smells of a conspiracy that lacks the confidence of conviction. Clammy hands, mumbling public statements, a malaise of cravenness, and a clear sense among the conspirators that they know they are in the wrong but are doing it anyway so their faction (or factions within the faction) can gain power inside the establishment. That's why I'm so disappointed in Representative Adam Schiff for coming out on their side of late: I have a pretty high opinion of him, and for him to join them, let alone to do it so late, smacks—to me, at least—of incredibly poor and/or opportunistic judgment.

Vice President Harris is the ONLY acceptable alternative to President Biden at this point. And I say that as someone who is not a supporter of hers. Anyone else would be a betrayal of the choice of the public during the 2024 primary season, and would smack of party insiders overturning the will of the voters. The fact that the drop-Biden faction has not been clear-throated and unified in naming Harris as the only acceptable replacement for President Biden is very telling, because it means that there is jockeying going on right now about who it would be—and clearly the conspirators are not for Harris. That, in my view, makes them unfit as arbiters and their case untenable.

Not much is more uninspiring than a conspiracy that doesn't believe in itself. On these grounds alone I would be inclined against their cause.

But there are more grounds: I have also had a chance to listen to some of President Biden's statements over the past few weeks, including the extemporaneous remarks he gave at his recent press conference. And, to get right to the point, my mild-to-moderate concerns that flared up in the aftermath of everybody and their dog having a meltdown after Biden's debate performance (which I didn't even watch at the time, lol) has been completely alleviated: Biden is not senile. He is very clearly not senile. Yes, he's old. He is uncomfortably old. Cringeworthily old. It's a very real possibility that, if he were to win a second term, he wouldn't be able to complete it. But, from where I am, he's still got his marbles. And that's the ONLY question at issue here: Is Biden mentally competent? I think he unambiguously is.

And that's the end of the dilemma for me. Am I wrong? Is he senile and I just don't see it? Maybe. But I have made my judgment. And, given that judgment, the path forward for me is clear now: You don't go against the results of a primary election if you can possibly help it. The people voted for Joe Biden. The time to replace him was across the country in the primaries months ago, not behind the scenes in July.

The drop-Biden faction says there is another, equally relevant question: Can Joe Biden win in November? There is a cynical, almost nihilistic attitude here, the idea that principles don't matter and that whichever pathway is likeliest to lead to power is by definition the best one. But I have two problems with their thinking:

First, principles DO matter. The democratic process is spelled out and we need to respect it. We spent a long time in this country fighting to make the political parties more transparent and accountable to the people in their presidential nominations. What, we're just gonna undo a primary election now? When the winner of that election says he's staying in the race and the main criticism against his fitness to be our nominee doesn't hold up to the sunlight? No, that's completely unacceptable. That's in the same vein as the authoritarian shit the Republicans have sold their souls for.

I realize that primary elections are almost impossible for an incumbent president to lose. And, yes, I realize that perhaps it would have been wiser for Joe Biden to choose not to run for reelection. I thought that was his plan, until shortly after he took office when he launched the legal process to run for reelection. But for better or worse he chose to run again, and, given that he has had the most effective Democratic administration since LBJ, he certainly had standing to do so. And consider this: The present crisis of worry about Biden is unprecedented in recent times. If there really were such a dam of worry waiting to burst all along, I think it would have been plausible for the primaries to register it. If nothing else, a hotly contested primary could have identified a second ethically viable alternative to Biden besides Harris, if the establishment and the drop-Biden faction in particular are so damn nervous about her. (This is assuming she would not have run against him herself in those primaries.)

Second, as President Biden himself has said, as well as many of his supporters, the judgment of the drop-Biden people as to who actually is the likeliest pathway to power is questionable. What is these folks' track record in wise prognosticating of this sort? What is their evidence for their case? I find these arguments lacking.

Joe Biden has demonstrated a winning electoral coalition. He was written off in the 2020 primary season and won, and won against Trump that November. He got the votes of the people. And while I think he would not have won that year were it not for the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic, he nevertheless won convincingly and earned the badge of electability in the minds of everyone. Nothing says "electable" more than having already been elected president once before. Trump is a hard opponent to beat, very hard. Trump is channeling the mental virus that has overtaken the conservative movement in America. He is extremely powerful. By his charisma and his political savvy he is powerful. His enemies within the Republican Party all end up singing his praises and kissing his boots, no matter how badly he has disparaged them, or else they end up leaving the Republican Party or being booted out of it forcibly. And holding Trump to account for his many crimes is literally buckling our judicial system as we speak—a very stark indicator indeed of Trump's power. And, so, any Democratic nominee would inevitably face an unwaveringly stiff, deeply unfair and low-down campaign against them by Trump. If not Biden's age it would be Buttigieg's sexuality, or Booker's race, or Newsom's "California"-ness, or whatever. The right is always going to come up with a smear campaign. Look what they did to Hillary Clinton, a superlatively competent and well-qualified candidate. No one running against Trump this year would have an easy time of it, and that includes Vice President Harris, who is female, black, from California, from an immigrant family, and a former "cop," and who has a reputation for being hard to work with and fostering high-friction work environments (whether or not that's true, or just sexism, or some of both), all rolled into one. Joe Biden's age is literally the only personal attack against him that ever stuck: He is a white male, deeply religious, very likeable in person (so everyone says, even many Republicans, though obviously I've never met him), relatable, etc., etc. He disarms the low-level sexists and racists on the Democratic periphery and in the political middle. He makes progressivism palatable for everyone. There is a real possibility—one which I think is accurate—that Biden was the only Democrat in 2020 who could've beaten Trump. Is Biden now, really, at the very bottom of that list in 2024, because he lost his train of thought during a debate? I don't buy it.

I think there is a plausible possibility that the firestorm in the media and in party and activist politics isn't as much of an issue with the general public. The president's age may be something ordinary people disapprove of, but it isn't something ordinary people feel when they pay rent, buy groceries, or have their rights stripped away by a radical Supreme Court. Just two months ago we were talking about how profoundly unpopular Republican policies are. That's still true right now.

So, principles matter and Biden may not be as weak of a candidate as his detractors claim. Those are my criticisms of the context of the drop-Biden faction. But what about the merits of their case, such as they exist?

Well...the main argument of the drop-Biden faction in the rightness of their cause, and by far the biggest issue I haven't discussed yet, is the polls, and I am of two minds about this:

On one hand, if the polls are accurate, that probably says more about the lunacy that has overtaken America than it does about Joe Biden. Just about anyone with a pulse who isn't (ahem) a convicted felon ought to be winning against Trump in a landslide. Trump stands for the end of America as we know it and the beginning of an authoritarian regime. He stands for the reversal of generations of gains in civil rights and social welfare and the entrenchment of Christian fanatics. Not because he himself is for these things, but because his pathway to power runs through others who are. If Joe Biden is losing to that, and if the media is focused on the idea that Joe Biden is the one among these two who should drop out for the good of the country, then maybe America deserves another Trump presidency after all. Maybe we've become too corrupt and wicked and selfish and evil to keep our republic any longer. And since that collective "we" very adamantly does not include many millions of Americans who are active on the left or otherwise active in support of our constitutional system of democracy and the rule of law, maybe Biden's terrible standing in the polls is a permission slip of sorts to begin having the unthinkable conversation about dissolving the United States or else taking more radical actions to safeguard it against these domestic threats on the right—such as taking back the courts, ending gerrymandering, abolishing the filibuster, imprisoning domestic terrorists and paramilitary extremists, shutting down churches and Christian schools and propaganda outlets that radicalize people, and using the Supreme Court's newly-created office of King to eradicate the most dangerous fascists. That's assuming we ever win the presidency and Congress again, of course, which may well happen but isn't a given anymore should the fascist-run GOP decide to make good on their threats to overthrow our Constitution and lock in minority far-right rule.

On the other hand, the polls may not be accurate at all. Polls in July about an event in November are almost meaningless anyway, and, more importantly, it is very difficult in the Trump era for pollsters to weight their likely voter adjustments correctly. It is a rock-solid given that Trump's base will turn out to vote for him; they always do because they are mindless zombies who are completely predictable. The real question, which makes predictions so chaotic this year, is what the rest of the electorate will do. Since the last president election, Donald Trump has become a convicted felon, the orchestrator of a Supreme Court majority that stripped people of their constitutional abortion rights, and the instigator of one of the most shameful days in American history, January 6. Most of his former administration that aren't in prison have publicly disavowed him and are warning the public not to reelect him. These are not good people, for the most part, so imagine what that implies. Joe Biden's age doesn't change any of this. It doesn't change the current economic situation, nothing. It doesn't change the horrifically unpopular right-wing agenda. It changes nothing. If the polls say that Biden is trailing badly against Trump, then either the public is insane or the polls are wrong, and either is distinctly possible.

Maybe "insane" doesn't fully capture the spirit of it. I realize that politics as we typically define the word is largely a dog and pony show, all style and very little substance. I understand that American political discourse in the mainstream is vapid, ill-informed, superficial, and fickle. I understand that there is a possible world where Joe Biden's age really is more important to people to reject in November than the threat of the end of democracy (even while Trump's own age remains almost completely uncriticized). And if that's where we are; if we are too stupid or careless or selfish or uninvolved or, yes, even insane as a country to know any better; then it's time for America to be held accountable. It has become my refrain that we are going to deserve what we vote for in November, whatever that may be.

I remain hopeful that if the Democrats and their allies run a good ground game this season, and continue their coverage of strong ads on the airwaves and online, then there is a chance of winning in November.

I think the drop-Biden faction has had its moment. I think they came at the (now-literal) King and missed. They didn't have the goods, it shows in their behavior, and, for better or worse, Biden says he is staying in the race.

If he does reverse course in the coming weeks and drop out, I think Kamala Harris is the only acceptable alternative, regardless of my own tepid approval of her, and I will emphatically and completely support her from that moment until Election Day. But that would be Biden's choice to make, and he says he has chosen to stay in. And, by the way, I would note that Biden's core of support both during this crisis and in his original campaign for president in 2020 runs through core Democratic demographics like the black community and organized labor, and perhaps this is an opportunity for the rest of the Democratic establishment to demonstrate that they are willing to do more than pay lip service to those demographics when it comes to respecting their perspectives and positions.

And as for my personal preference, I'll say it this way, with the most primitive, self-serving angle I can muster: President Joe Biden forgave the student loans that I thought I was going to die with, and gave me thousands of dollars of much-needed support during the pandemic. No other president has ever done more for me. Now that Biden has also won the mandate of the Democratic electorate, I would be pretty damn ungrateful, and more than a little foolish, to oppose him if he decides to stay in. And he says he is staying in. So that's that.

But there is so much more behind my decision to support him than just my personal financial interest. From his startlingly (and refreshingly) liberal governing posture, to his decency and his respect for our constitutional and political norms, to his stalwart support of Ukraine and Israel against the nefarious forces arrayed against them, to his competent and capable cabinet and administration, to his excellent political negotiating skills—which have resulted in quite a bit of meaningful legislation passing through Congress despite the filibuster in the Senate and of late even despite the GOP control of the House—for all of these reasons, he is the president for me.

As I have said before, if the worst should happen and President Biden were to die or become incapacitated in a hypothetical second term, he would be ably succeeded by Vice President Harris, and the work of his administration would continue in the immediate term under the leadership of his well-qualified officers.

And, if you're wondering, part of me does wish that Joe Biden had chosen of his own accord not to run for reelection, because he really is getting old. But he didn't make that choice, and I for one respect it. And part of me would be relieved if he does drop out in the coming weeks, though another part of me would be just as nervous about any other candidate's prospects.

And, at this point, I think the drop-Biden faction is doing more harm to our prospects in November than good. I think it's time for them to stop. I have a very hard time seeing a future where anybody besides Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, or Donald Trump is the president on noon of January 20 next year. And because of the selfishness and fear of the drop-Biden faction, what I previously thought was a solid 50:50 election prospect is now one that I think strongly favors the Republicans no matter what we do or who we put on the ticket. I consider this a self-inflicted wound, first by Biden in choosing to have a debate with a failed coup instigator and convicted felon at all, and second and more importantly by the drop-Biden faction by losing their party discipline following his bad debate performance without a strong case for breaking ranks.

Putting all of that aside, and looking at the grand tapestry of America: Maybe the winds really have shifted and Joe Biden no longer has the appeal to beat Donald Trump. But if that is true—if America really has fallen so low—then let us learn it through the honest work of campaigning to reelect Joe Biden and failing, rather than having that decision foisted on us by cowards and opportunists consulting their crystal balls behind closed doors.

And that is what I think about all of that.

#US politics #Joe Biden

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selfproclaimedunicorn · 14 days ago

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not exactly a “wish you would write this fic” but any tidbits for Yraegor and Eliadah? (hope I spelled their names right 🤞🏽)

I've written super minimally for The King’s Game, a side effect of it mostly being a pile of lore & OCs who have anything ranging from A Plot to Just Vibes. I did whip up a little something though, just for you 🩷. Can't let the one Eliadah & Yraegor enjoyer go unfed, lol.

Barely proofread & minimally edited. Quick cw for murder, blood, & implied SA

Her lips were soft, and they were pliant as he kissed her, but Eliadah did little to return his enthusiasm. Yraegor paused, his mouth only a hair's breadth away from hers, and when she made no moves to get him to continue he pulled back. Her blue and gold eyes, almost alarmingly piercing, carried the same intensity they always did. It was not bad, but the lack of change was unnerving.

“Is something wrong?”

“Why would something be wrong?”

“I would expect a little more…excitement before fucking someone.” He prompted, trying to get to the root of her apprehension. Without word or warning, she palmed him through his smallclothes, the only thing that still remained on him.

There was only the smallest glimmer of satisfaction on Eliadah’s face. “You are excited, that is all that matters.”

There were a myriad of things Yraegor would have liked to say. How this business with prophecy and dragons and returning glory was all from her, the insistence on having his child being a thing that had also come from her, all the wonderful and flattering things she told him, questions on if he was just bad at kissing, proposals of coming back to this later; they all died on his tongue as he bucked against her touch. His teeth sank into his lower lip, and he bit down hard enough to draw blood when the door to Eliadah’s chambers opened. Before Yraegor could yell at the woman who opened the door, Eliadah was getting off the bed and ordering the slave woman about as if she hadn’t just been in the middle of bedding him.

Shock and confusion saw him staying frozen in place, impotently watching as a second slave, a rarely encountered man within Eliadah’s home, stood meekly behind the woman who had dragged him in by his bound hands.

Yraegor didn't know what the women said in the strange, pitchy and sharp sounding language of Asshai, but it didn't matter. There were certain lines he could draw about this place's customs–or lack thereof in some cases if all the rumors of about the city were true.

“I did not sign on for an audience,” he practically vaulted off the bed as his voice finally found him, “or extra participants, or whatever this is!”

“You did, Yraegor.” Eliadah rebutted blandly, speaking in the common tongue once more. His eyes followed her as she practically glided across the floor, the trailing crimson silk of her robe concealing her footsteps and barely ruffling with her movements.

“You never mentioned this!”

“I did not need to,” Eliadah's tone remained impassive as she sorted through the items on the table in the far side of her chambers, “you said you wish to play your part, and now what must be done for it will happen.”

“Eliadah, what are you talking about?” Anger welled up to cover the confusion, blazing dragonfire overwhelming everything else with its heat until it was suddenly snuffed out. Yraegor watched Eliadah's reflection in the large, round mirror that sat atop the table as she lifted a knife, long and thin and curved to have an upturned point. His blood ran cold, uncharacteristically so, but he could not dwell on it. The bound slave who had been led in spoke finally, his words just as lost to Yraegor's understanding as the women's had been, but the panic and fear were unmistakable.

When Yraegor turned to look at him again for the first time since Eliadah went to her dressing table he was struggling against his bindings. He no longer stood passively accepting of whatever he'd been purchased for, he now strained and fought, body arching uncomfortably as he tried to free himself from the hook on the ceiling beams his bound wrists had been tied to. The man begged and pleaded, face pale and dark eyes desperate as Eliadah gave further instruction to the slave who had brought him into the room.

“What-what are you doing?” Yraegor could barely tear his eyes from the struggling man, his gaze flitting back and forth between him and Eliadah.

“What must be done.” Her words were accompanied by a scraping across the floor as the slave woman dragged a basin across the floor from its spot near the dressing table, ever closer to the center of the room where the poor man was strung up to the ceiling.

“Eliadah–”

“Only death can pay for life, and you are needed for the dragons. I saw you. So, this will provide what is needed.” She motioned towards the struggling man with her knife as she spoke, indicating that he was ‘this.’ A jarring contrast to the desperate sincerity of saying she saw Yraegor in her ritual fires, although it was more the sincerity that was jarring. Even with all her sweet words and talk of prophecy from before this moment, she had never sounded more genuine than with that one utterance that was cushioned between the detachment he'd come to expect from her.

There were questions, too many of them, and they all raced in his mind as fast as the dragons she promised to bring back for his House. They stuck him in place with the horror that had dawned on him too late, the horror that clawed at the man until the knife plunged into the soft flesh just beneath his jaw.

Blood poured from the growing wound as Eliadah sang the words of some spell, life spilling from his neck and into the basin that had been dragged in front of him. Yraegor staggered backwards as some dark, unholy energy cracked through the air. It felt like it was seeping into his bones. He needed to leave, he needed to go back home. He had been gone too long, and he would rather return to Amethyst Keep without Silencer and be shamed by his grandsire than endure this. He should have never listened to a word she said, he shouldn't have even listened to the tales that saw him abandon his quest in Volantis and go further east.

Eliadah shrugged off her robe, a heap of crimson at her feet to match what she now smeared over her arms and stomach. She seemed pleased with herself when she turned back around to face Yraegor once more.

“What have you done?” He felt stupid for asking. He'd just watched her kill a man, cast some spell with his blood; and for what? The fossilized eggs? She only had two here, she wanted the one at Amethyst Keep too. She said she had seen three.

“Ensured there will be king's blood to wake the dragons.”

“King's blood?”

“Your family were kings once.” She said, pushing him so he fell back onto her bed and staining him with that man's blood as well.

“Now, we must work quickly. This will not last forever.” Eliadah continued.

“I don't want–”

“Then just lie back.” She pressed hard on his shoulders as she interrupted him, her eyes boring into his with that same unnerving intensity they always carried.

#my writing #asks #fic: the king’s game #asoiaf oc #oc: eliadah #oc: yraegor velthoes

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fandoomrants · 4 months ago

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Tua, s4, ep 5 thoughts!

Spoilers!

-Five and Lila travelling for years?! Omg!

-Also them fighting, laughing, and bonding!

-Pls no one make this weird and sexual! That was finally them bonding and showing trust, taking care of each other. Him, helping put the glass out of her leg, and her shaving him and leaning on him. That's just trust!

-Klaus is gonna spend some time in that coffin, wouldn't he?

-Can he potentially die due to lack of oxygen and food, and be reborn over and over again for eternity?!

-I knew he's gonna set sth on fire....

-That was indeed uncalled for!

-I feel that the same thing with Klaus trusting Reginald and then being stabbed in the back by him is repeating again...

-Ok, Ben's mind is really hijacked...

-Yep. Viktor's name is indeed spelled with a K. I knew that, not sure why I started spelling it with a C.

-Can't believe for once Luther is reasonable, and Diego's not. Well, they both usually are but I've always thought Luther is more oblivious.

-Wherever Five and Lila are, the time must be passing differently.

-OMG, dog ghost!! Cute!!!

-Claire was picking up Klaus 🥹

-Allison can just try to rumour the guy.....

-Caire to the rescue!

-Can't believe Allison did that in front of her daughter....

-Aw, Diego learned another language to be able to communicate with Lila's family?!? Cute!

-The place Five and Lila are at is kinda nice.

-..... Thoo, I did say their bond was nice and shouldn't be seen as something romantic in the beginning but ngl, they give me a bit odd vibes....

-Nooooo! 🫣🫣 This shouldn't have happened!

-BOTH OF YOU STOP BEING WEIRD!!!! WTFFF?!

-Ughhh, finee! I get it, I can't read people's relationships right! Every time I decide "oh, what a cute platonic bond", and ha! Nope! Not so platonic!

-I'll be forever mad about that!

-Sidenote (I wanna forget the prev scene!) but where is Gene kinda familiar from? 🤔🤔 Been trying to decide that for 5 episodes now.

-Luther actually trying to bullshit his way out of a situation, lol.

-...And gets in trouble for being nosy.

-Ok, the others got in trouble.

-Not the pants 💀😂

-Yay, fighting to music!

-Why are clothes being ripped? 💀💀

-And a random cat!

-"The moneymaker" 💀💀💀💀

-I was gonna say how are they gonna explain this to Five but Five has things to explain on his own...

-No, really, noo, I don't want this thing with Lila and Five 😭😭 Why is it happening?! It's literally proving Diego was right. Is like, something wrong with them? Like, are their brains messed? I suppose, 6 years is a long time...

-Umm.... Isn't Five a bit afraid of the train...

-Why is he hiding it?! Ughhh....

-Ok, kinda actually really happy Klaus decided to fight his way out.

-Tho, I expected that Allison and Claire would get there then.

-Aw, cute reunion!

-Why is Lila suddenly not worried about her kids, btw?

-But hey, good thing Five gave her the notebook!

-Ok, I kinda get why he's like that but like, he's been through apocalypse and all, he needs a break. But Lila is right, this isn't real.

-Ok, she remembered her children...

-Nah, Viktor, let them shoot him.

-See, bad idea. You got shoot, and he's bitching about his suit!

-I'm not buying the old man's nice words.

-Ouch! That was unexpected!

-But I suppose I guessed right for Reginald's wife?

-Omg, that skin thing is creepy!

-Is she an alien too?

-I think Jean isn't buying it...

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua a4 #tua season 4 #tua s4 spoilers #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #claire hargreeves #jennifer

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solomons-poison · 2 years ago

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my mind is going in circles right now

okok whats ur opinion on ex hubby sol and mephisto

i always type sol btw because it’s awkward writing his full name (dk whyy)

with mephisto there would be angst potential, maybe he let his pride get in his way and ended up hurting you along with his pride, he doesnt rlly believe in ‘divorce’ so he’ll try to act like nothing is wrong but inside of him its killing him, hes in denial, disbelief of himself and the whole situation

with sol i cant rlly imagine divorcing him (maybe bc im biased with him) but for the sake of this, there would be so much angst potential like so much, the first human in a very very long time he had deeply loved until it was all shattered by his own hands

jskajskaakao

Ohhhhhhh yes ex-husband angst, it just hurts so good.... (Sol is under the cut, this just got very long lol; also unintentionally wrote this as reader suggesting the divorce, cause both guys seem like ride-or-die with their partners to me and I cant see them bringing it up without good cause...)

Divorcing Mephisto would absolutely be so dramatic and very painful. He's either going to explode on you, yelling and gesturing wildly and maybe even making baseless accusations against you (that he will 100% regret later and you'll never forget what he said). Or he'll suddenly get unnaturally quiet/ignore or avoid you. Even if you need to get documents signed or need to talk about how to break up assets, etc, he avoids you at all costs. The only thing that might turn him around is if people start rumors about you or your relationship (or lack thereof), because he still cares about you and doesn't want your name slandered like that by others.

He'll definitely be in denial for a while, and hurt you that way by saying things like "you don't mean it/want this", "just give it some time and you'll see you're wrong". He absolutely won't listen to you until you have to get a third party involved that he can't ignore, like Diavolo. It is a super messy affair...

There would be so much tension between you two, and if the divorce is for anything other than falling out of love, I can bet there'd be a lot of instances of angry sudden makeout sessions or breakup sex tbh. If you're not careful, you might get stuck in a cycle of hookups/dating again and then sudden breakup.

—

Now, divorcing Solomon... He definitely isn't explosive like Mephisto would be. I can see him being very quiet about the whole ordeal, but the pain and sadness is so evident in his eyes. His smiles afterwards are all strained and forced. Cause you know that you were the light in his life, the color in his world that he had initially lost after becoming immortal.

I think initially, you two would come to an understanding about the divorce, it would be a mutual agreement with little argument or fights. But he will ask for some time to think about things beforehand (meaning time for you to think about it too). And don't get him wrong, he is absolutely upset about the whole ordeal. But it's not your fault that you feel the way you do, you have a right to be happy and he wants to support that. But it's definitely painful to him.

I think even after becoming a full fledged sorcerer, you two would still have a kind of mentor-student relationship since he's so knowledgeable about spells and magic. So during/after the divorce, he may want to stop teaching you because being in close quarters with you is too much to stand. As much as he wants to be by your side, it's so bad for his own mental health and he'll put distance between you two.

—

Like I said, these are kind of focused on reader wanting the divorce, for whatever reasons, just cause I can't really see either Mephisto or Solomon ever wanting to divorce, they'd try everything to make things right again. But if you have thoughts about it going the other way, I'm very interested. Sorry for the word vomit, I've been really into the ex-husband angst vibe recently and it's so bad for me lol

#mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #solomon x reader #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #sad thoughts rn :(#˗ˏˋ꒰ minx replies ꒱

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the-drunken-huntsman · 1 year ago

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Hiii arr u willing to answer all the TES months asks for Aneis and Murza and Dire please please please :} I know that's a Lot so if u want to skip over some that is totally understandable hehe

Morning Star - What was the first thing you gave your OC? Name, backstory, design, etc

Aneis: I guess technically the first thing I gave her was her name, even though I've since changed the spelling. I had liked the name Anais before picking up Skyrim (even though I was pronouncing it wrong lol) and had used it for my PC in Pokémon Sword and one of my SDV saves so I just used it again when I started Skyrim. Also side note, I've never watched The Amazing World of Gumball before today while babysitting and I had no clue that was the little sister's name.

Murza: The first thing I came up with for her was just a vague concept. I wanted to play around with mismatched race/class, so of course the first thing I wanted was an orc mage. The second thing I decided for her was that she was gonna be trans because hell yeah.

Dire: The first thing I came up with for him was also a vague concept. I had wanted to make a chaotic evil demigod type character and even though he's changed a lot since initial concept I figured the best way to achieve that would be to make him a demiprince. I wanted him to be kind of conniving and sly and settled on making him the son of Clavicus to get there. Originally he was going to be another one of Aneis' companions who was tagging along just for the vain glory of being a part of the dragonborn's adventures but you know how OCs sometimes seem to have a mind of their own and he eventually got to where he is now :)

Sun's Dawn - Does your OC have a love interest? What is their relationship like?

Aneis: Aneis was always a pretty promiscuous person. She knew she'd have to make Teldryn another one of her conquests from the first moment she saw him without the helmet. They hooked up a few times while traveling on Solstheim, but while going through Nchardak trying to get to the Black Book, he used his whole body to shield her from an automaton that had caught her off guard and that was it, she was done. That night in Severin Manor she sits him down and is like. Look, don't be alarmed and please don't leave because I still need you to guide me around this gods forsaken island. But I think I'm in love with you. To which Teldryn is like

Murza: You know the "me doing whatever my hot witch wife wants" meme? That's Murza and Endurys. However before they were married they were the epitome of idiots in love. Just stupid long stares and longing sighs in camp at night until one day Aneis snaps and shoves them in an inn room together and yells at them to not come out until they've fucked all the yearning out.

Dire: Dire is aroace do no romantic interests for him! But his absolute favorite people in the world are his little cousins and his little brother

First Seed - Does your OC have any enemies or rivals? How did these rivalries start?

Aneis: I know there's lots of people who read into the LDB's relationship to Miraak and how tragic his story is and blah blah blah, he makes my blood boil so Aneis feels the exact same way. As opposed to any other big bad she faces, (Harkon is Serana's White Whale before anyone else, Ulfric had to go for the well-being of the people in her opinion, and defeating Alduin was more for the people she loved and needed to protect than anything else) Miraak makes it personal for her, acting like some sort of sibling rival to her when Akatosh is nothing more to her than a perverted puppet master playing with her fate. She actually loathes any of the Dovah who call her sister without having earned that respect from her first (like Paarthurnax and Odahviing have). As far as she's concerned she only has one father and he never used her to clean up his messes, he gave his life trying to protect his homeland from the Dominion.

Murza: I've been wanting to play around with the concept of Savos Aren being the big bad of the College Quest line as opposed to Ancano. Like Ancano is still evil and shit, but like, Aren was actually in league with him the whole time. He needed the Thalmor's resources to get him to the Eye and the Staff and the second he has what he needs he betrays their shaky alliance. Anyway yeah I think Murza would kinda always be wary of Savos and it would also legitimize her succeeding him as opposed to any other member of the staff if she's the one who was able to fell him.

Dire: I wouldn't say Dire had any real enemies or rivals. I'm kinda keeping his story once he goes adventuring on his own open because of TES:VI supposedly being eminent and I might want to use him in that game. So as of right now, in the Skyrim timeline, he's just a lil guy? Who could hate that?

Rain's Hand - Can your OC use magic? If so what Schools?

Aneis: Aneis knows three spells: close wounds, clairvoyance, and muffle. All taught to her by her father as they're the most useful out in the wild while tracking prey. She can also do a bit of fire magic, but nothing more than just enough to light a campfire. She might later learn heal undead for the sake of Serana though.

Murza: I'm not sure what to say for her. She's the arch mage of course she uses magic. I guess she is particularly adept at conjuration, being a follower of Malacath and having a half daedric son

Dire: Dire would mostly be adept with alteration and illusion, but also conjuration because duh. I could see him as a very small child, using alteration to make his toys move without touching them, a slightly older child summoning small beasts from oblivion to play with (maybe even Uncle Barbas), and when his cousins are babies, using illusion to calm them down and keep them entertained.

Second Seed - Is your OC an alchemist? What do they excel at making?

Aneis: Araneth, Aneis' mother, was an apothecary. In the same way her father passed his hunting prowess to her, her mother also tried to give her as much of her knowledge as she could as well. She didn't much get it or appreciate it while her mother was alive, but later in life she put the effort into actually trying to understand her mother's teachings. She eventually becomes about as skilled as your average professional alchemist.

Murza: Gonna preface this with the fact that I still consider alchemy a school of magic even though it counts as a thief's skill in Skyrim. Anyway I think it would be the one school to slip her grasp. It's just too... material. Breaking an enemy's mind with a flick of her wrist? Summoning a sword from Oblivion that weighs nothing in hand but can slice through trees? Those are the kinds of esoteric things that Murza understands. Plants that need to be boiled at a certain temperature and creatures' innards that need to be removed in an exact precise manner? May as well be Dwemeris to her.

Dire: Dire is like his mother in that alchemy is just too far over his head. But he isn't as frustrated about his lack of comprehension as she is. Why would he need to worry about mixing potions when he can just find them well and good for the taking in every dungeon in Tamriel?

Mid Year - Does your OC have a favourite celebration? Do they celebrate holidays?

Aneis: Hircine's summoning day is a very special time for her. She always spends days hunting before hand, trying to gather as much a variety of pelts and trophies as she can for her offering. This is even though, as his champion, they are definitely not necessary, the woman fells dragons in his name. However she always prepares as much as she can for him, and once summoned she always has the same simple request for him. To deliver a message to her family in the Hunting Grounds, that she loves them, and misses them, and hopes she is making them proud.

Murza: Murza always tries to make it a point to be home at Lakeview Manor for the Witches Fest. She loves seeing the children dressed up and doing little tricks to entertain them. (This goes along with the headcanon that Lakeview Manor would eventually have a little village crop up around it)

Dire: He would very much enjoy the Jester's Festival, but his absolute favorite is Clavicus' summoning day. I've joked before that it's the only time he gets to play catch with his dad, but since he is also a small aspect of Vile in and of himself, I think the whole day he'd just feel a little closer to Oblivion and it makes him feel whole.

Sun's Height - What is your OC's favourite shop, in any of the games; what do they buy the most of?

Aneis: Aneis adores The Drunken Huntsman. Anoriath is a very talented fletcher and Elrindir is always game to swap hunting stories. They make the whole establishment feel like what she's been missing from Valenwood all these years away, even as a wooded building. They're probably the only people in Tamriel she trusts to service her family bow.

Murza: Murza actually likes hanging around Tel Mithryn. Neloth always has interesting, useful things to sell to her and she suspects he likes her company as she's much quicker to catch onto his teachings than his actual apprentice (sorry, Talvas).

Dire: Even though Enthir's displeasure at having a child on college grounds was always well known to Dire, he still likes bugging him to show him all the weird, cool things he has for sale, which he has no intention of buying. Just looking and maybe a little swiping to play with later.

Last Seed - What weapon does your OC use? Who taught them how to use it?

Aneis: Aneis' main weapons are her family's heirloom bow and the battleaxe gifted to her by Balgruuf. Her father taught her how to shoot and she's self taught with the axe. She'd honestly never touched a two handed weapon in her life before but she thought the nords might think it a great insult for her to not use a weapon gifted to her by the Jarl, so she just swung it around until she found what felt good and did the most damage.

Murza: Murza got her base knowledge of magic from Atub, but growing up in the stronghold she was also expected to learn to swing a sword. Though the swords she uses now are less... mundane. She uses summoned weapons. Idk if that got across lol.

Dire: Dire has had a natural affinity for magic since birth but he hones his craft under the tutelage of his mother and the other professors of Winterhold.

Hearthfire - Does your OC have a family (blood or found)? Who are they closest to?

I can answer this generally for all three characters. The whole of the found family (the people who live at Lakeview Manor) are Aneis, Murza, Teldryn, Endurys, Dire, Hab, Cinuri, Braiel, and the dogs, Sable and Merc. Aneis and Murza are closest to each other platonically, and though he'd never admit it, Dire is closest to Cinuri, she's his best friend.

Frost Fall - Where is your OC's primary residence? What city is there favourite?

Aneis: Aneis knows most of the Bosmer living in Skyrim find The Rift to be the closest approximate to their homeland, she finds the quite, backwoods nature of Falkreath reminds her much more of the area she grew up in. Of course she loves her quite little life on the homestead, surrounded by all her loved ones.

Murza: Technically, Murza's main residence is the college, but she tends not to spend much time there, mainly because she gets lonely. Endurys hates the cold having grown up in the shit hole of Eastmarch and avoids the college as much as possible and Aneis only goes if she's asked to specifically by Murza. So she ends up spending most of her year in Lakeview.

Dire: His parents have determined its much better for him to grow up in an actual stable home surrounded by actual stable adults, so most of his childhood is spent in Lakeview. However, once in a while, Murza will bring him with her on her trips to the college and he loves it. So many places to explore and get into trouble and so many people to bug until they relent and teach him something new.

Sun's Dusk - Is your OC religious? If so, who do they follow?

Aneis: Aneis' grandmother was a priestess of Hircine, her father a priest, and the rest of her family devotees. Their whole devotion is based on having such hunting prowess on their own, they have no need for the gift of the beast blood. This of course culminated in Aneis literally being born to be the greatest hunter of the greatest prey, the Last Dragonborn.

Murza: Murza has always felt like an outsider, even within her own tribe growing up, so she finds a lot of solace in the tenants of Malacath. She also keeps a quiet reverence for Dibella, as her priestesses were the ones who helped her become her most true self.

Dire: Dire doesn't really necessarily worship Clavicus Vile, he just kinda has this air of thankfulness around the subject of his daedric parent. After all it is through his connection to Oblivion that he is able to help so many people and keep his family together in the afterlife.

Evening Star - When is your OC's birthday?

Aneis: 27th of Hearthfire, 4E 153

Murza: 21st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 165

Dire: 30th of Mid Year, 4E 206

#wow i havent written in a while that really hit the spot #thanks stars!!!#rikke.txt #oc: aneis #oc: murza #oc: dire #asks #ask game #long post

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spotaus · 28 days ago

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Okay, I'm back! And on the desktop this time so I can gander at everything and not forget, aha!

Yes! Error had no idea what was happening. I think it's a moment in my brain where I forgor what I've posted before, but I know the inital plan I had in mind was that Error was leaving home to go search for Geno. Kinda scrapped that, in the way that he's definitely planning to meander his way there initially, but when Fresh isn't after him a few days in, he decides it's not worth it and they seriously didn't care, hense him wandering aimlessly lol.

Ough the way you put it is SO peak... The boy just wants someone to want him!!! Because, he thought his brothers did, but obviously he was wrong, so he'd have to prove it. Have to make his own name for himself. (Have to hope that this would be his moment to be taken in for once-)

Yes!!! Error is insanely strong, and he was learning, but he learns differently than everyone else, and his academy didn't accept that (if Geno conformed, why can't Error?) so they expelled him. The water and fire thing was actually an idea I wanted to add in since you mentioned the idea of simple spells, because Error is extremely talented at the hard parts of magic. Multitasking and keeping many spells going at once is easy for him (sometimes he forgets he even has one active), and he's very very good at getting power behind them, it flows so easily. His magic being string-based really gave him a new perspective on how magic works!! (Like, in DnD magic is referred to as 'The Weave' and every strand is akin to a bit of magic, and it's kinda like that for him. He's deeply connected to what makes magic magic.) So, ofc, when presented with things he knows aren't his best work by the standards of professionals, who want everything to be perfect? He has to get a little showy and crafty about it!

And yeah!!! I love love loved he way you wrote Error's magic in A&C and realized I like doing smth similar in my own stories with Error using his strings to channel his magic (so long as it's not a mage-specific spell). Like, he can be so versatile thanks to its make-up, and his magic is static until activated or acted upon, so it lingers even when he's not present. Plus, he has to get into textiles somehow lmao- I think he loves making scarves, and his horrible at making hats, and everything more complex is a nice casual stretch of his creative muscle lmao.

And the building!!! (The amphitheatre was mostly just because my Art History course is leaking into my brain lmao-) Yeah, he totally meant for it to act more as a warning shot. Like 'Wow, if anything had been in that blast's way it would've been obliterated, huh? Better hire me! Better get this power on your side!' And instead he didn't toss it high enough, and it *did* obliterate something and like. He's lucky no living soul was caught in the blast because *yeesh*. He 100% did not account for his plan going wrong and he's so worried he's in trouble for messing up the place, but no one says anything.

(Also idk if it was super clear, but Error's physically sturdy kinda in the way A&C Error was (can take a hit and then repair himself) but his physical body, at age 12, is weak af. So like. The strong gust from his own spell, or those guards grabbing him and making his magic act up? Yeag. Not great. Knocked over like a bowling pin.)

And his spell was really cool! No one had seen anything like it. Ever. And Nightmare was actually deeply impressed compared to the other mages who had gone before Error. None of them could compete at all. Plus, Night wasn't fond of the building anyways, lots of bloody arena battles were fought there. He was more worried about civilians, then about Error himself lmao.

Dust was probably the scariest character to wrote this entire drabble, because I'm not quite sure how I want to characterize him yet. Obv I know the whole dustedafterdeath situation, but that's after he sees Night is tiny and assumes a more comfortable role as brother. Here he's quiet, and I tried to bring out his awkward side a bit. He's not used to giving speeches, or pep talks, or talking to strangers in any positive light. However, he totally noticed Error was getting frustrated and upset (the Black Market had been full of grown adults with less patience than Error he had to talk down pretty often) and decided he'd at least pull him away from the crowd.

It was a mix of Dust recognizing that Error was dangerous (one of the trained mages had put up that spell barrier and Error slipped through it in seconds flat) and knowing that he had the ability to de-escalate it. He mostly just tried to think of things he'd heard between the other knights when they spoke (a lot of his inspo was things Killer had said to Cross when the newby had finally broken the ice and let himself be vulnerable) which is why it felt a bit awkward, and maybe childish, but not like speaking to a 12 y/o style. More talking to a teen. Which is why Error felt good, because Dust was honest about how highly he thought of Error's abilities!

He also totally had to mention he'd have to kill those folks if Error was passed. Like, he hated to do it, but redirecting blame to Nightmare, then loosely explaining that he had his reasons? This kid would respect the king enough to let it go (he thought).

Augh the too early line was one of my favorites!! The longer he talked to Error the more relaxed he got (either that he could handle the situation, or that Error would back down) and by the end of it he had to rely less on using Killer-centric pep talks and more on his own perspective. To him, in some way, he and Error were like two peas in a pod. Insanely powerful, in the wrong place at the wrong time. So he judges it'd be better to give Error some trust, like an adult would get, and joke that he had something to deal with. (Point is, for the sake of trying to do something nice for Error, Dust basically brought Error up to his level. Like they were both in on something, better than the others, their own little club. So when Dust left, that just boosted Error's ego enough to make him want to enact his goofy plan-)

Dust's magic too! Yeah, i shlorped that one up from Real Age, lol! Though, it's less dry electricity and more an incoming hurricane with electrical wires running through the flooded streets. It's something wild and natural, not sterile like what Error's been taught, or purely otherworldly like what Fresh or Night have, it's very grounded. But he's 12 so he doesn't understand the implications, he just thinks it's cool as hell. (And it's why Geno is later so invested in learning. Dust drew in both the brothers with his mysterious attitude and storm-magic swag <3)

And!!! AND!!!! When he moves to help!!! Yeah!!! At this point, Dust didn't bother to tell Nightmare about Error, because he hadn't seen him in the stands the second day and figured he'd moved on. So when things went wrong and he saw Error fall and the guard try to approach (the blast knocked them back, which is why Error managed to stay up there long enough to process things) he wanted to move. Part of him wanted to get Error down before he hurt himself, part of him wanted to get there before the guard did and got themselves potentially killed. And Cross (the other one who was there who was only very briefly mentioned-) saw Dust move and had no hesitation in moving too, though he was under the impression that they'd be nabbing Error and taking him away somewhere (not quite deprogrammed out of the old murderous and ruthless habits just yet). Nightmare sensed the emotions of Dust and Cross clashing in motives, and could tell Error didn't seem scared, just distressed (like, same energy as a kid getting scolded by their mother) so he held them back, and watched the blast. Felt it. Then had Dust fill him in on whatever it was he'd been left blind to about this kid.

Dust had so been ready to yeet himself up there before even thinking through a plan, lmao- And he refuses to acknowledge that for another several years until Geno is in the picture again and he realizes he's been playing older brother for a few years now.

Nightmare!!!!

Like you said, we talked about it, but Night 100% stepped up to those guards and put the fear of. well. him. into them, because no matter how hard Error had messed up, he could tell there was absolutely zero malicious intent in his body. None. Even his furious intention seemed to come from a place of indignation less than the need to harm someone. And, as we've said, Error is a child at this point! A lil guy!

Along with that, the respect is 100% something I needed to lay on thick here. As much as Night is used to being a King by now, he has purposely kept himself far away from the youth, and refuses to do what his mother did to Ccino again. He walks on eggshells in this moment, because he can't afford to see a kid hurt, or scared, or even distressed because of his actions, so he's very careful. Doesn't lay a hand on him (he could feel the pain radiating, and the fear when he'd been grabbed) and waits for Error to ask for help or do things himself. The rundown Dust provided to him was helpful, but not nearly enough data to make a solid plan. (And if Error hadn't seemed so out of it, and so determined, he would have just sent him off. But frankly. Nightmare throught Error seemed like he could be a threat in the future, especially if he's so ballsy and confident and strong at this age, and without reasoning with him, it would only lead to consiquences in the future. So they had to sit and talk!)

That shrug was my everything. Something about talking to a kid makes people lower their guards, especially Nightmare (subconsciously he feels like he's in a friendly environment, I think) so he's much more willing to show that soft side. (This is the same thing that happens subconsciously to Ccino. They're aware Error is smart, but they just... don't think about the act when he's around, for the most part.) Error's confused, but so much has been going on that frankly this dude who has a good opinion of him having such a high standing with the king works in his favor so he's not about to question it!

(i have so so many thoughts so I will be coming back to finish this in a part two later, but I have to study so idk when I'll be back lmao-)

@ancha-aus

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.

Into the blue sky. Practically into the sun.

Error watched it rise above him.

Only.

“Shit.”

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

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

Not the case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t that, though.

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

About Error, he had no doubt.

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

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

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

Error felt like the world had stopped.

It hadn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

And all at once it stopped.

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

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

He took a deep breath, grounding himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could he?

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

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

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

It was an order he didn’t dare refuse.

Error found himself in an odd position.

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

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

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

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

Error nodded again.

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I accept!”

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

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

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

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

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

#new age au #just realized I'm rbing from myself so please don't mind the extra tag lol-

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sysig · 4 years ago

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I think all my tags are up to date over on @musicaldrabbles again

#I'm probably missing a few miscellaneous ones but I did some updating here and there #Mostly for Just Desserts stuff since I tagged it with ''Original'' before it had a working title #I added Vargas not too long ago too tho I only have Edgar and Scriabin on the tags page #Also I realized a little while ago that I've been spelling Shmee's name wrong fuck #I'll probably update that in a few days - I missed a couple of his tags too but he is a pretty minor character to be fair #Also I'm considering letting the queue run out after Monday - still not sure since there's the whole weekend ahead still but eh #I'm only at about half a page right now and I haven't really touched it since Tuesday - I have had a couple ideas here and there tho #Probably not enough to fill the rest tho heh #That's alright tho it's been quite a while since I've had up-to-date art posting when I make it lol #Scanning'll do that #Anyway - think I've done all the damage I can do this time around. I'll be back for another round soon enough hah

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phoenix-downer · 2 years ago

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Howdy. I recently became a fan of Kingdom Hearts despite being familiar with the name for a long time, so I'm still learning about the franchise and awaiting the release of KH4. One thing I wanna know is: Was Yen Sid's determining of Sora' assessment of the Mark of Mastery Exam fair? I've seen a lot of debate on this, with mostly the blame going to Sora for easily letting himself get manipulated by Young Xehanort and his own Darkness, which is true to some extent but still. What do you think?

Oh nice, hope you've been enjoying your KH journey!

You bring up a really interesting question. I've seen a lot of debate about it as well and I kind of wonder if it's because the concept was good but the execution was bungled.

Because Sora failing to pass the exam? And all because of his pride/hubris leading to overconfidence and risky behavior? That's an interesting concept, especially after KH2 where he won, where he succeeded.

And his temptation in DDD was handled very well too--I find it just as compelling for a character to be tempted by good things obtained the wrong way, as it is for a character to be tempted by bad things. It was the way Sora was trying to reach Riku and Kairi that wasn't good, not wanting to reach them that wasn't good. And that is why he was led astray--his heart and love for his friends wound up being his downfall in a way that mirrors Luke's downfall in Empire Strikes Back. Xehanort very cunningly exploited a deep-seated fear Sora has that stems from past trauma thanks to all the times he's been separated from his friends and took advantage of how much he loves them:

Again, really good stuff. I do think the writing could've more strongly established that Sora's arrogance led to his downfall because that part of the execution is a bit weaker (though he does have a brief line at the beginning of the game alluding to this), and I wonder if it's because Nomura and/or Disney didn't want the protagonist going too dark, but I digress.

I think the part of the execution that's really bungled is Yen Sid's explanation for why Sora failed.

First of all, when Sora asks about the results, Yen Sid tells them they both performed admirably. Maybe it's to spare Sora's feelings or whatever, but it's already kind of setting up a discrepancy between his words and what actually happened during Sora's exam:

Then, he talks about how he's glad Sora and Riku are both safe and grateful for Lea's help. He also apologizes for what happened which hey, I'll give him credit for that, but if the test was rigged against Sora, why would you still count it? Your pupil was set up for failure and you're just... gonna... roll with it? He doesn't strike me as a very good teacher lol:

Then he talks about how the test revealed truths about the future clash etc. and says he wants a Keyblade Master who will have a useful power for the future battle. Again, no problem with that, but a good teacher would've revealed the parameters of the test ahead of time and not after the fact. It's just wildly unfair to switch how you're evaluating students after they've taken the test, and I think this is where people started to get irritated with the explanation. Everyone's had a crummy teacher who graded them unfairly on an assignment, and that's how Yen Sid comes across here:

Then, he says this. If Sora had truly failed, Yen Sid should not have said this. It would've been better if Sora didn't deserve to be made a Keyblade Master yet than for Yen Sid to say, "You deserve to be one but because Riku got an A+ and you only got an A, he passes and you fail." Again, I think people got irritated by this because it's just so blatantly unfair and doesn't track with Sora failing:

Again, I think most people would've had no problem with Sora failing and Riku passing if Yen Sin's explanation had been handled well and if either Sora's arrogance had more directly tied to his downfall OR if Yen Sid had clearly spelled out that Sora's greatest strength is his greatest weakness, he needs to temper his heart's urges with the wisdom of experience, and he needs to grapple with his darkness and master it like Riku has.

As it is, we see Sora show a little cocky arrogance at the start of DDD, he's tempted by his good side, and then... he's ambushed, sabotaged, and kidnapped, nearly losing himself and control of his own heart to the villain in the process. And he fails, not because of his own choices which led to his heart getting captured, but because... he got an A and Riku got an A+? It just doesn't make sense, and that's what bothers me about it.

Hope that helps explain where I'm coming from more. Of course, all of this is my own interpretation, but it's definitely why I didn't really buy what happened at the end--the reason Yen Sid gives for Sora failing doesn't track with what we actually saw happen in the game.

Thanks for the ask!

Screenshots are from here.

#kingdom hearts #kh #sora #riku #yen sid #kh analysis #ddd #dream drop distance #khddd #kh ddd #phoenix-downer #long post #division9scientist

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greenygreenland · 4 years ago

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Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Norman x Reader

-MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-NOTE: YOU’RE BOTH AGED UP SO DON’T START TELLING ME FBI’S GONNA COME TO MY DOOR 😂😂

-THE TIMELINE IS A BIT MESSED UP SO JUST IGNORE IT COMPLETELY AND DON'T ASK ME LOL

-also, is it just me or do thick eyebrows look really cute??? Norman has pretty thick brows compared everyone else and I think they're cute

WARNINGS: Kissing lol

Summary: You finally see Norman again.

Life had to be the scariest thing you'd ever faced. It threw the bad, the good, the everything your way until you could barely stand. Until you were left broken and mangled and shattered. Life was scary. It was cruel. Yet somehow, today was different.

You thought it was a dream. After all, how could it be reality when the boy in front of you died a year and some months ago? He had been shipped out, left for dead because it was a part of his stupid escape plan.

So how was it he stood before you? Breathing? Smiling? Living?

The office door closed behind you with a soft click. It bathed the room in silence, as if for a moment, the world decided to give you a second to breathe. A second to take in the wonderous sight before you.

The boy's name stuck in your throat. He had changed, not only in height, but stature and appearance. Norman was older, and he grew up to be more handsome than any runway model could ever be.

"(Y/n)," he gently said. "I'm glad you're well."

That was all it took. One sentence and you tackled him in the tightest hug your trembling arms could muster. "Norman...!" To have his arms around you, to hear the beating of his heart--it was a relief. A miracle sent by the gods. "You’re so stupid!"

No, he was more than stupid. He had to be the dumbest boy alive to think that it was okay to sacrifice himself for the sake of your family. You all were supposed to escape together just like Emma said. No one was supposed to be left behind, yet Norman--bless his heart--acted on his own.

You hugged him as if he would disappear if you let go. "We were all supposed to leave together. But you--I thought you--shipped out--and then--!" You chocked on your words. What more could you say anyway?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The muffled sob that ripped through your throat was more than Norman could handle. His knees went weak and you both slowly sunk to the floor in a heap.

"I'm here." he gently said. "I'm not going anywhere (Y/n)."

Despite the steadiness in Norman's voice, his shoulders hitched, and he sniffled. "I'm here." he repeated. "I-I'm here." It sounded like he were reassuring himself that he wouldn't leave you so soon, as if he were scared too. Not for the way you sobbed and sobbed, but for the ache in his heart that seemed to beat in sync with yours.

Slowly, your sobs turned to quiet sniffles, which then silenced into nothing but tiny hiccups. You basked in Norman's warm embrace. He didn't hold you too tightly, as if he were afraid it would shatter you to pieces. Instead, he pulled you close to his side and leaned on his desk behind.

You rested your head on his chest, taking the time to memorise his scent. Parchment, the woods, and old books. You liked that, it was comforting to know he still smelled the same. On the other hand, his voice wasn’t as smooth or rounded as it once was. It was icy. No one seemed to notice that tiny sharpness that hit the end of each note he spoke. You wondered what could've made his kind heart harden.

Sure, Norman was still the same Norman you remembered, but something about the way he acted seemed off. He was clingy, much more than he ever was. Maybe he just missed you? No, that couldn't be right. Norman acted as if he were running out of time. He held you close and gently, as if these would be the last moments you'd see each other again. As if there wouldn't be a tomorrow.

You slowly pulled away to get a good look at Norman's face. His chin was slightly pointier, his cheeks less chubby and full. His lips twitched upwards into a comforting smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes because he looked so overwhelmingly tired. Your poor boy probably worked day and night to keep the hideout on its feet. It must be hard on him, you thought. Especially since he was revered as a god.

Norman's brows raised. "What's wrong?"

You took his thin hands in your own and gave them a good squeeze. "It's nothing. What about you?"

Ah yes, small talk. The perfect way to avoid any question thrown your way. Norman knew you well, sometimes even more than himself. When you asked simple questions such as these, that meant your mind laid elsewhere in a land he could never reach. Norman took that as a hint to drop the subject.

For now.

He wondered what invisible weight laid on your shoulders. Was it something as heavy as his? Perhaps your weight was worse and it ate away at you. Norman wished he could take that weight away and relieve you of that pain. He'd carry it all if he could, and it didn't matter to him if he'd die trying. This was you he was thinking about. He'd do anything for you.

"I've been okay," Norman vaguely responded. "But I have been busy, so I find it difficult to sleep sometimes.”

Norman liked to be honest, but you knew it was because that helped him figure out what was wrong with you. It was a game of tag. In this case being 'it' meant figuring out each others' worries through a back-and-forth match.

"You haven't been sleeping enough?" Your voice came out rather quiet as you traced invisible circles over the back of his hands. "Is that because you have so much work? Or do you refuse to get help?" Norman sat in a still silence and you sighed.

Of course.

This was your Norman after all. He always shouldered a burden too big for his shoulders to carry. It was always something so heavy, so terribly hard to balance by himself. If that burden grew any bigger, it would collapse, and that would be his downfall. But you wouldn't let that happen to your Norman. No, no, no. You'd take that burden from him, steal it if you had to, and be his crutch.

"What have you been doing here?" you quickly added. "As 'William Minerva', I mean?"

Norman looked unbearably uncomfortable. That little frown tugging at the edge of his lips was a tell-tale sign. “I’ve been getting a lot done." he carefully said. "In fact, I’ve figured out a way to end this. Once and for all.”

Norman began by explaining the first phase of his plan. The first phase had long been in motion. It started with the indiscriminate burning of cattle facilities, then the gathering of information, and continued on to pave the way for all the other phases you didn’t care to hear about.

The first few steps weren't too bad, but the final act in Norman's plan made your skin crawl. You half-wished you hadn’t asked him anything to begin with. Maybe it would have spared your appetite. Your grip on his thin hands loosened and loosened until your hands rested on your lap.

Norman wasn't so little anymore. He had grown up just a bit, but not in the way you wished to see. How could he think of something so cold-hearted and cruel? The extermination of all demons in Neverland was an act of genocide. If you re-called correctly, it was also considered a war crime.

Norman was smarter than that. He understood the consequence he'd have to face if that were the path he walked right? He understood that there were still other options right? Maybe you heard him wrong.

No.

You had to have heard him wrong. Norman wasn't ruthless like that. He was a ball of sunshine that made you smile whenever you were together.

"I see..." You tightly smiled. "So that's your plan on freeing everyone?" Norman nodded with a seriousness that took you back to the time he left everything to you and Ray and Emma.

You weren't mistaken then. Norman truly meant everything he said.

"Yes, that is my plan. It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion. I've decided to officially start tomorrow."

Tomorrow?

Your breath hitched. "Don't you think that's a bit hasty? What if...what if something goes wrong?" Norman smiled. It was hollow and wry and everything that he wasn't. "Don't worry. Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want." You didn't return the smile, and you didn't want to say why.

Norman was quick to catch on. But of course he would catch on so quickly, this was Norman. Your Norman.

"Do you have a problem with my plan?" he inquired. You shook your head. "No, it's...it's not that." Yes, it was that. Your plan is dangerous even if it is good, you thought. Innocent lives wouldn't be spared, and that would spell an unfair fate for the demons who ate to survive.

You wanted to tell Norman why his plan was wrong, and why he didn't have to be so unforgiving about it. But then what? Why would he listen when you didn't have any better ideas? He seemed to have his mind set anyway, so no half-baked ideas would make a difference. And besides, he was the smartest person you knew. Maybe that was the only way out of the terrible fate all you cattle children faced.

"If you're okay with my plan," Norman said, "then what's bothering you (Y/n)?"

"It's still a lot for me to take in," you admitted with a plastic smile. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're, well, here." Norman smiled, this time with a genuine warmth. "I understand." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'll see you at dinner."

Your cheeks burned. How bold of him. "Y-yeah, I'll see you at dinner." Norman let out a cute little chuckle that made your heart beat a little louder than it was supposed to. You hauled yourself off the floor and made your way to the door. Norman followed.

You flashed him a nervous smile, one that mixed in with your muddled worry and anxiousness. You glanced at his bright eyes. For a moment, they seemed to dim like the setting sun. It reminded you of Mama. When no one looked at her, she didn’t smile. She always looked so sad when she sat by herself, and maybe that was because she was.

"(Y/n)?"

Your fingers brushed against the doorknob. “Hm?”

"I want nothing more than to protect you and our family. I know you don't fully agree with me," his expression darkened. "But this is the way--the only way we can save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood."

For a moment, you forgot who you were speaking to. This wasn't the same boy you begged to run away with before he got shipped out. This wasn't the same boy who gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sweetly complimented you. This boy--did you truly still know him? Was he still the Norman you grew up with and fell head-over-heels for?

You blinked and that dark look washed itself off his face. He strode up to you and placed a hand on your cheek--just like the day he was supposed to be harvested. Norman’s eyes were soft, softer than any blanket, and his lips pursed into a gentle frown. With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear away.

Why were you crying?

"Norman..." You couldn’t find the right words. There were none that could explain the suffering you endured in silence. You worried, not only for Norman, but your family and all those other people in the world you didn’t know about. Norman’s plan--oh how stupid it was--had it changed him? Had it forced him to guard his heart to keep a still mind?

You wondered what he endured while you went on your crazy adventures. At least you had your family, and Yuugo, Lucas, and all your friends. But Norman? He didn’t have anyone but himself. He carried the whole world. Alone. Had he been scared? Worried? Angry that no one came for him? Your heart clenched at the thought.

"Smile,” Norman said. “It’s okay, I promise. I'm here." He gathered you in his arms and you didn’t have the heart to protest. “How?” you whispered. “How were you able to do all this on your own?” Norman helplessly shrugged. “You could say I have connections, either that or I’m just lucky.”

“What will you do after this is all over?”

Norman went still again, as if he couldn’t answer your question. You heaved in a shaky breath. If Norman wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, then you’d squeeze it out of him. “Did anything else happen to you? I’m sure there’s a catch, isn’t there?”

It was like someone flipped a switch. One moment, you were a mess of tears, sorrow, and anguish. Now, something menacing laid in your voice. It was almost threatening, as if you were indirectly telling Norman to dare avoid the question. “I don’t want you dying trying to be everything at once,” you said. “Here you’re revered as a god, and if I know you, then it’s plain that you set yourself up like that. Don’t tell me you plan to die on us again.”

He stiffened.

“I know you Norman, don’t forget that. And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself. I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again, but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.” You pulled away and took his hands in yours. A small smile of reassurance made its way up your lips, but Norman didn’t return it.

No, he couldn’t. And despite all he did, he couldn’t lie straight to your face. Not like this.

Dinner cheered you up. The smiles and laughter that your family shared with Norman made you feel just a little bit better. But how long would it last? And how long would those smiles stay present? All the questions swarming in your mind made you feel sick to your stomach. There was too much to think about, and too little time to answer them.

You forced down the last of your food with a sigh and brought the plate to its respectful place. Everyone was too busy chatting and catching up to notice, but that was fine. It was better that way.

You made your way to a secluded walkway. It was in one of the calmer areas of the hideout that overlooked the lower levels. It was quiet, save for the distant chatter of Hayato and his friends. He let out a bright laugh that echoed through the vacant walkways. What a shame it would be to hear that disappear.

“So this is where you went.”

“I told you she’d be here.”

You whipped around in alarm. “Ray, Emma!”

Ray sharply looked you up and down. He raised a brow and you squirmed under his gaze. He gently bumped shoulders with you. “What’s wrong with you?”

You absentmindedly shrugged. “Nothing.”

“That’s what someone who’s not okay would say.” Emma noted. She settled by your side on the railing and flashed a bright smile. “You were so quiet at dinner today.”

You shook your head. Que another absentminded shrug and plastic smile. “I guess I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

Ray sighed. “Everyone but you?” He leaned against the railing next to you. “Did you and Norman talk at all?”

You froze. ‘Yes’, was what you wanted to say, but no sound came out. The image of Norman’s matured face, the way his his soft lips hit your own, and his stupidly tall build crossed your mind.

Emma let out a gasp and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ah!” she cried. “You’re all red!” You covered your hands with your face, ignoring Ray’s curious stare.

“What did you two talk about in his office anyway? Or should I say, do?” The glint in Ray’s eyes had subtext you didn’t want to recite out loud. “Rayyyyy,” you grumbled, “shut up.” He sent you a teasing grin as Emma frowned in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Yeah, it’s grown up stuff.”

You ignored the warmth spreading to your cheeks and elbowed Ray. “Don’t say it like ‘that’! Now you make it sound like something else!”

He daringly raised a brow. “Like what?” You ran a hand over your scorching face. It was a miracle you weren’t on fire. “No, no, I’m not answering you!”

You shared a good laugh and a comfortable silence began to settle, blanketing your shoulders in a lightness that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Emma softly smiled. “I’m glad we found you.” she admitted. “You looked really sad all by yourself out here.” Ray nodded with a small snort. “Yeah, talk about depressing. But seriously though, did something..?”

Of course these two would see through your façade. Of course they’d understand something was wrong. They were your family, and they didn’t deserve your silence. Your smile shattered. “I don’t know if Norman told you about his plan yet, but it’s...it’s bad. Sure, the demons have done some terrible things to us, but that doesn’t mean all of them are guilty. I want to stop him, but I don’t know how.”

Emma nodded in agreement. “He told us earlier and I don’t like it either.” she firmly said. “Ray and I talked it over and we have a plan, but it’s risky. Like, really risky. It has to do with the Seven Walls and...”

You held on to every word Emma and Ray spoke. Risky was your middle name. Well, not actually, but it was something that became your friend. You and your family looked death in the face too many times to count. What would be another?

By the end of it, you were sure this new plan would change Norman’s mind, or at least convince him to give up the whole ‘genocide’ thing. It was decided by Ray that tomorrow, you’d all talk to Norman. Things seemed to be looking up. No, they had to be.

------------

The halls were empty and you were alone. How was it you got lost in the first place? You made sure to have every twist and turn memorised, so why did you end up in the wrong corridor twice? Ray would surely tease you for getting lost. What an absolute--

You slammed into someone’s chest. A yelp escaped your throat as the person in question lost his footing. He sucked in a sharp breath and went tumbling straight into you. Your back hit the ground as the boy threw out his arms on either side of your head to brace himself. You didn’t need a name to know who you had tumbled into. Light hair, soft eyes, fancy waistcoat and suit.

“Norman?”

He hovered over you with wide eyes. His lips were inches from yours and he was just so, so close.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was so gosh dang loud. Could he hear it? Could he see the way your face burned red?

“Uhm--I--I--uh--”

Why wasn’t he moving? Why weren’t you moving? Why was it so hard to look him in the eyes? A nervous smile broke out across Norman’s lips. He pushed himself off of you and offered out a hand. You gingerly took it.

“Sorry.” Norman said, helping you to your feet. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Your gaze darted from his lips to his dazzling eyes and then to his cheeks dusted in red. Your heart wouldn’t stop slamming against your chest. It kept going, and going until you felt like you were about to burst.

“Sh-shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you retorted. “I’m not the one who--you know...gets sick all the time.” You weren’t sure why you said it like that, or why that made Norman smile so cutely, but he was smiling. That made your heart flutter. You glanced around the corridor a few times, and somehow, you kept finding focus on his lips.

What was wrong with you?

Norman caught on fast--like he always did. “Oh I see,” he said with a low chuckle. You swallowed. His voice really did deepen (but you kind of liked it). For a moment, you thought he caught onto your staring, but instead of commenting on it, he intertwined his hand with yours and led you through the winding halls.

“Don’t tell Ray I got lost.” you muttered. Norman laughed and it was like the sound of happiness itself. “I won’t.”

The halls all looked the exact same: cream coloured paint, nature-like decorations, and numbered wooden doors. You forgot what number your room was, so that was probably why you got lost. Norman took a sharp left where you recalled should be a right instead. “Wait isn’t it that way?”

“I have something to give you, so we’re going to make a quick detour.” Norman’s cheeks dusted pink and he looked the slightest bit nervous. “What is it you want to show me?” He flashed you a contagious smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said with a chuckle, “that’s why it’s called a surprise.”

When you got to his office, you were nervous. Surprises were fun, yes, but in a world where nearly getting eaten by wild demons fell into the category of ‘surprise’, you learned not to like them very much.

Norman closed the door behind you and it softly clicked shut. Okay, you thought. So he was locking the door and making his way over to his desk. Okay, that’s fine. Norman shuffled through a cabinet, that nervous look still on his face. Okay, okay, nothing wrong here. He gently shut the drawer, and as he walked out from behind his desk, you took note of the small little box he fiddled with.

Okay. Okay. Box. Nervous. Locked door. Did he not want anyone to interrupt whatever he was about to do?

Norman heaved in a deep breath. A really, really, really deep breath. “(Y/n), I have never met anyone else like you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and kind.” He sunk to one knee and opened the little box. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

---------

You jolted awake with a start.

“Sorry,” Norman said. He scribbled a few words down in his notebook. “Did I wake you?”

Ah, that’s right. After you talked with Emma and Ray, you all met up with Norman and hung out for a bit. But when had you gotten to his office? Much less, fallen asleep? You rubbed your eyes with a shake of your head. Judging by the tired look on Norman’s face, it was way past bedtime.

The heavy cloak around your shoulders offered a welcoming warmth. It smelled like books. It smelled like parchment and ink. It smelled like Norman and it was comforting.

He glanced up from his notebook and curiously met your gaze. “What are you smiling at?” The dream popped up in your mind and your smile grew. “I had a good dream.”

“What was it about?” he inquired without looking up.

“You.”

The scratch of the pencil froze and he met your gaze. “You had a dream about me?” Your cheeks flushed. “Yeah, and you proposed.” Norman’s back went rigid and he turned as red as an apple. “I-I pro--proposed to you?” he stammered. You snickered, a smug smile tugging on your lips. “It was really sweet. And if you’re wondering, I said yes. I was going to kiss you, but then I woke up.” You stood up with a sigh. “It was disappointing, but that’s okay.”

You let out a small laugh and neatly folded Norman’s cloak. You left it on the couch and made your way across the room. “That’s a nice notebook.” you said. “What’re you writing about?”

Norman stilled and closed the book with a smile. “It’s nothing special.” He put the pencil down ever so quietly and stood. “Do you seek my affections?” he inquired. You settled on the wall. “Don’t you have work to do?” Norman looked down at you. His fringe brushed across his eyelashes, and he loosened his tie. Slowly.

Your heart steadily drummed against your chest. “What are you doing?” The false innocence in your voice caused Norman to chuckle lowly. He caressed your cheek with a feather-light touch. “Well, you did say you were disappointed right? Why don’t I make it up to you?”

He rested an arm on the wall with a sly smirk. Your lips connected and it made your stomach flip-flop. The kiss was slow, it was sweet. You found yourself pulling him closer, running your hands through his hair and yanking him over. "Norman?" He met your gaze with half-lidded eyes. "Yes (N/n)?"

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

He smirked and it was hot. The fact that he kept his arm braced against the wall didn’t help either. "Why?" he lowly inquired. "Do you like it?" Your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself wanting more.

Knock, knock!

Norman didn't look too happy about that. He ran a hand over your cheek and gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, that half-lidded look of his melting into warmth and love. He made his way to the door, tightening his tie and smoothing out his hair with a quick touch.

"Hello--?" Norman fell short mid-sentence. As soon as your gaze locked with the person on the other side, you understood why. Ray stood in the threshold, just as red-faced as you and Norman, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll come back later.” he muttered.

Oh great. Had he been eavesdropping? You glanced at Norman and he glanced at you, then Ray, and back to you. Ray sucked his teeth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t have too much fun.” he said, a smirk twitching onto his lips.

You made your way to the threshold with a groan. “Rayyyy!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” he coolly replied. “Do whatever, I didn’t see anything.”

PART 2 <--- READ PART 2

NOTE: I spent a WHOLE WEEK writing this. Please reblog so I know you guys like it :)

TIP JAR

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number1villainstan · 10 months ago

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episode 24, another nanami episode. i think also a recap?

Orff's Carmina Burana, huh? What's that?

oh damn Nanami actually said thank you

not this animal shit again

"a secret no one else must know?" is it about nanami? why is it so sensitive?

oh nope, never mind, apparently the "secret nanami diary" is tsuwabuki's. i can see why that's so important to keep secret for him

oh shit, tsuwabuki was stalking nanami way before--what was it, episode 8? 5? with all the animals getting broken out around nanami. also "personification of school justice" tsuwabuki you sweet summer child

shit i think i've been spelling his name wrong this whole time

"Nanami's true face", huh? maybe he actually did know about nanami's bad intentions

i don't remember chu-chu downing that glass in the og episode

"one who rules the school from the shadows" okay so he does know about nanami being a dick. also kid you are such a stalker stop that >_>

aaand nanami's throwing tsuwabuki under the bus when she gets exposed. dammit nanami you were on a halfway decent path of character development and now you're backsliding

i suddenly remember saying "the clouds are moving quickly so plot is happening" at the end of the student council arc. and someone on a different website said they'd be interested in what i'd think after the black rose arc. to satyreyes: plot did not, in fact, happen

i definitely do not remember the nanami-obsessed triplets waiting for curry. or the elephants being literally right outside the room wtf

WAIT THE ELEPHANTS ATE THE CURRY WITH THE TRIPLETS??? i. holy shit. why does that make so much sense

wait holy shit. if keiko (and maybe yuuko and aiko) only hung out with Nanami because they wanted access to touga, or popularity, then going to India (or whatever illusory version of India they actually went to) with her to trek through jungles and up cliffs is some serious dedication

lmao at the triplets-as-elephants chasing tsuwabuki. or maybe they're just elephants but that's not as funny

man i forgot just how much those elephants hated nanami

wait, tsuwabuki gave chu-chu a banana? as a souvenir? why? maybe he just likes cute animals

the elephants dressed as the triplets. so those were just regular elephants then?

bro he broke into the building? and spied on them while they were in a bedroom? tsuwabuki stop

...the elephants just. standing right outside watching through the windows. are those the triplets or just regular elephants (as much as anything can be 'regular' at Ohtori)

"No matter how she hurts people, she ends up getting hurt the worst!" i wanna say that maybe she should stop trying to hurt people then. that's what her character arc is about, isn't it?

nanami trying to play dumb lol

"there's a profound reason for nanami hating anthy" and nanami doesn't seem to know what that reason is

and tsuwabuki has been awake the whole time, to hear the entire conversation

lmao at how unfazed anthy is over this whole thing

"soft teeth grinding" somehow it distracts nanami (and maybe anthy but maybe not)

damn tsuwabuki how did you sneak into the student council meetings before you had nanami as an excuse

and then we get to touga. the main source of nanami's Issues(TM)

but not for long because now we're back to tsuwabuki being creepy af! why would you want her to get hit with a car! dude! although the visual/silhouette comparison between tsuwabuki and touga (who he's emulating) is pretty telling. especially cuz we know now about how touga actively uses the prince/princess dichotomy and narrative for self-serving purposes

that shot, with nanami being the only one visible and all the rest being shadows...what does it mean. along with the line "if you get agitated you'll turn into a cow again" has that happened before

the triplets dressing up as cows to be closer to nanami will never not be funny

what was with the way her ears were drawn in that scene

fun fact: bovines are colorblind. in bullfighting, it's not the red that makes the bull ready to charge, it's the movement of the cloth. at least i'm pretty sure i don't have a source

"i'll always take care of you, even if you're a cow" is a nice sentiment. if only it didn't come from such an absolutely deranged place jesus FUCK tsuwabuki that WOULDN'T WORK SHE'D FUCKING TRAMPLE YOU

the same shot as before, with anthy and utena as silhouettes but nanami and tsuwabuki visible. and then nanami throwing herself out a window just to be able to grab the diary again?

"strategy 24" tsuwabuki. baby. please. no. twenty-four??

"the king has the ears of a donkey!" damn i thought it was gonna be midas for a hot second. (the barber's strategy of "dig a hole and whisper the secret into the hole" would have been great if it wasn't a greek myth tbh. ah, tragedy, where even the most well-intentioned and carefully-considered path can still lead to ruin)

the triplets seeing the shadow girl play is great. also the monkey-catching robot comes back! i hope that means it has a friend now?

"Curry!" are the triplets and elephants still body-switched???

Oh also, along with writing the December 2023 Monthly Short Piece today, I finally watched the first episode of Revolutionary Girl Utena after days of seeing a moot post about it and--

"I am the Rose Bride. From this day forward, I belong to you."

i am going to murder everyone in this damn school for anthy

#reblog #liveblogging #self reblog #rgu spoilers #revolutionary girl utena #long post #kiryuu nanami #tsuwabuki mitsuru

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lex-n-weegie · 3 years ago

Text

HEY YOU 4

YEAH, @nerdstreak, @candyheartedchy, @magicalselfshipping, and @queenieboo22

MERRY HECKING CHRISTMAS!!!!

Surprise!!! I thought I'd make a special little Christmas gift for you 4!! It took me about 6 hours total, I really hope you like it!!

And ofc, here's everyone separately!!

I would have drawn more people, but unfortunately I only got the idea to do this yesterday and this drawing alone took me so long 😭

I refuse to leave them unthanked however!! So, special thanks to @ava-ships, @spooky-toastsnew, @jelly-buttons, @widowsdarling, @sapient-nes, and of course all of my followers, just for being here and being inspiring to me.

I actually wanted to do little special messages for you guys, but I'ma do that under the cut because it's gonna get loooong haha

Nerdstreak

About the drawing: I decided to draw Hannah working on DEL!! Right now she's trying to make sure it looks all good before seeing how the face projection goes. And yes, the background is a moon with a light blue hue. Gotta include your husband in it somehow!! I do hope that the glasses don't look off, I've never drawn glasses like them before haha.

About you: Gosh, where do I even begin? You've been so so SO inspiring to me during the whole time I've known you!! You got me into selfshipping, you've recently(ish) helped me finish a while story, something I've NEVER done before, and you've helped me with countless drawings and even a few s/i designs! Not to mention that you've been a great friend, and helped me with a situation I was puzzled with. You truly are amazing and inspiring, don't forget that!! I'm really happy we're friends, it makes me feel better about myself. I was so shy talking to others, but now I'm friends with so many of the folks I look up to. Little me would be so happy :)

Candyheartedchy

About the drawing: I was thinking about doing your bug bunny s/i, or your Scratch s/i, hell I even considered your new Mario s/i (as I am hyperfixated on the franchise lol), but in the end I went with the one who you seemed to be thinking about a lot rn. And btw, I love her design so much!! It's so simple yet so eye catching. I decided to do a small little callback to a small story you wrote with her and Fethery(def spelled his name wrong), a story of how they first met. She's sitting on the beach with an easel, trying to think of what she wants to paint. I also specifically 1. Put 2 seagulls in the back to represent the couple :) and 2. Put the clouds around her head, as if she's got her head in the clouds. I also remembered that pink is your favorite color, soooo pink beach! Also I hope the eyes are okay, I somewhat struggled 😭

About you: Okay so. Hi. You barely know me haha, but I've been seeing your art for a long time thanks to people reblogging it. Took me a bit to follow, but man was it worth it. Your art is just...so, SO pretty and beautiful!! It makes me feel all soft and relaxed, not to mention me awwing or laughing when you draw your selfships!! (I mean laughing as in you doing something funny, not me like thinking your selfship is funny- you get what I mean right???) I aspire to be similar to you some day!! Especially in the drawing comics area, each time I try I can only get to page 2 😔

Magicalselfshipping

About the drawing: I soooorta tried to so a special spin with the hair, which I hope is okay!! I wanted it to be spikey but soft at the same time, representing that while she lives in a villain castle, she's actually pretty kind. Also I AM SO SORRY I FORGOT THE EYEBROWS BUT IT'S WAY TOO LATE FOR ME TO ADD THEM NOW AND LIKE AAAAAA. Also, I believe that once you said that Kamek taught you magic, so I figured that yours would end up looking similar to his!! I also designed the background with him in mind, doing his little magic pattern and coloring it blue and a (almost) white, but like his robes and hat!

About you: Okay so 1. Mario Selfshipper hell freaking yeah 2. I was actually a little...rude at first I guess. I saw what you identified as, and I was admittedly sceptical. But I put some thought into it, looked at that one ask you answered, and looked it up. You kinda helped me be even more open minded, and for that, I thank you. Also, I never even thought of someone selfshipping with a blue little wizard, but seeing yours with him is so cute!! Especially since you've loved him for a long, long time, like me and Weegee!! I also enjoy your art, it's unique and I enjoy seeing it!!

Queenieboo22

About the drawing: I def wanted the spooky Queen to have a spooky vibe, so I made her as spooky as I could without it being full out horror. The hair curls may look odd, and I'm sorry about that, but I was trying my best to make them look like the Dark Moon from Luigi's Mansion 2, just in hair form!! I also made the shadow part of the background a slight blue, for your king ofc. And you know I HAD to add some boos!! I did put a bit more white in the middle however, as I have the small hc that Boos softly glow when in the dark, like a night light!!

About you: Oh my GOD your art is so freaking good!!!! Like holy crap!!!! You can make such super complicated designs and just, draw them over and over, perfectly!!! It's so insane and awesome!!! I still treasure that b-day gift you made me it's so goooooood. Also, you're just so sweet!! Like, super duper sweet!! You're so kind and caring and welcoming, it's awesome!! Also, anyone who loves spooky/creepy things is automatically like 100% cooler. You also inspire me with my art and s/is, hell my newest FNAF SB s/i, Evelyn, was somewhat inspired by your FNAF s/i! Your s/is are so unique, yet they fit in perfectly in any universe you put them in. I wanna be more like that myself!! Also, I'm happy we're friends, I still look up to you a lot and it's still so cool to me that I'm friends with people I look up to.

#lexi doodles #nerdstreak #candyheartedchy #magicalselfshipping #queenieboo22 #selfship community #self shipping community #self ship community #selfshipping community #surprise gift #merry christmas #and happy holidays #and ofc the other folks I appreciate #ava ships #spooky toastsnew #jelly buttons #widowsdarling #sapient-nes

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clumsyclifford · 3 years ago

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hello bella i am here for the fanfic ask game and i am going to use the letters of my name to pick questions. B E L A R. actually wait not A because pretty much all your fic titles are song lyrics which is pretty self explanatory. for E hmm… where would you take t-shirt ‘verse jalex next. that series was some of the first fics of yours i read and immediately fell in love. anyways hi! - bella

would you believe my first thought was "oh she's spelling belarus" hope it's okay that i just assume your full name is belarus from now on

this is once again So So Long so here's a read more

fanfic ask games

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience? oh boy. well the short answer is a capital-Y Yes. we were just speaking about emo lashton! the third one, aka i know that you're so afraid, was written after i had a really really awful day and pretty much embodies how i was feeling that day (the screaming/crying/destruction of property bit), though i did not do any of those things. also acappella 'verse (excluding the merrikat fic unfortunately) is HEAVILY influenced by personal experience in fact probably moreso than most of my other fics - the second one where they drop a single was written literally the night that my acappella group released our first single so it is like. Extremely Real Life. obviously jewish cake aka ha'ahava hazot shelanu is Very Very inspired by my personal experience, some chapters more than others, by which i mean the ones with the families lmao. brazil fic is inspired by personal experience though that one is a lot more "inspired by" than "taken directly from" because i lived there i wasn't just a visitor and also i never went to maracanã or like. did most of this stuff. but the location of the hotel is on a road i have actually been on many times and the pizza place they go to was one of my favorite places to eat so there's that. and the lashton sequel of brazil fic (you should have seen that sunrise) is based on a time when i actually went to pedra do arpoador and watched the sunrise, though for me it was with my family and it was on rosh hashanah hdflkgjdlksj.

i wrote this fic you should know i'll be there for you for jess where ashton misses his siblings and more specifically laments not being there for his sister when her gerbils die which was like a canon divergent version of me actually being present for when my sister's gerbils died. that's one. also wrote a cashton prompt fic where, again, ashton misses his siblings, are you detecting a theme here? i project basically all of my homesickness onto ashton because he's the only one with younger siblings. but those feelings are very personal and authentic. AND LASTLY: this jalex prompt fic where jack drives the wrong way on clara barton parkway is directly inspired by a time when i drove the wrong way on clara barton parkway and it was, in fact, one of the most terrifying moments of my life. okay i have to stop now because i've basically written you a novel answering this question and i could probably keep going. in short (lmao): yes. many.

E: If you wrote a sequel to t-shirt jalex, what would it be about? i actually know the answer to this!! the plan for the next t-shirt jalex fic, god willing lmao, is to write one where jack meets some of alex's students. i just really wanna see it happen. also, one day maybe i'll write their wedding, but like...that's a big Maybe since i have never been to a wedding that i remember well enough to write and i don't know shit about them especially non-jewish ones lol

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting? i saw taylor answer this and i agreed very strongly with what they said. for shorter fics, especially when they're written on a whim (which i haven't done in a long time, excluding halloween fic event for which that was not supposed to happen), i'll read over it once or twice when it's done and do final edits and then just post it. for longer fics, like for example so damn familiar, i reread it almost every time i opened the doc, and whenever i'd finish a scene i'd go back and reread it and then probably reread it again. this serves a dual purpose though, because while it is good for editing, i also just...really enjoy my own writing lmao. and i will also add that i have not finished editing so damn familiar like before i post every chapter i go back and reread it and make small final changes so i can be sure that when i'm rereading it after it's posted there's nothing that makes me think "damn it i wish i had changed that before i posted it." so for short fics, very few, and for long fics, Very Many. i remember when i was writing hello hello i reached a point where i wanted to be done writing it so bad but i had to reread the entire thing every time i wanted to continue writing it, to get the vibe, and i was soooo sick of reading it. which is a difficult point for me to reach considering how much i like my own writing so do with that information what you will.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]? okay i know you said not to answer this one and it's not like i need reason to say MORE but i just wanna put it out there that i do in fact have a google doc entitled "good lyrics for titles" and if i hear a good lyric i throw it in the doc and when i need a title, especially for something short and spontaneous like a prompt fic, that's the first place i look. also on occasion i do listen to music when i write so i can get a title from a song i've heard while writing but a lot of the time i do not just because it's harder for me to concentrate or maintain a vibe while listening to music and in those cases it's convenient to have a doc full of potential titles so i don't have to go hunt down an appropriate song and scour the lyrics. ok that's all.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? whew i did answer this one here also will add miss sam @tirednotflirting to the list because i've said it before and i'll say it again she is exceptionally good at writing description and that is Not My Forte! i make an active effort to include any bits and pieces of environmental description/imagery in my fics most of the time and she just. Does That. which i really admire and try to emulate with ~word pictures~ as much as i can.

#this is SO unnecessarily long #im so sorry belarus #bellarus #sdflhkgjsdflj #ask #anonymous #cubs anon #every time i type that tag i lose years of my life #i should go to bed #tshirt jalex are so cute i love them so much #sure do hope to write more of them or anyone at all soon #sure do hope to uh. write soon #lmao #sigh #fic talk

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maevelin · 6 years ago

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Hey Maevelin I've read a lot of your KC metas being KC fan and I think youre spot on with your authentic criticism. I like youre neutrality too and I wanted to ask you do think that KC was sort of random or in the beginning was it properly executed? Thank you

Hey back!

You got me in a KC mood so this may end up long as per usual with me. Sorry in advance for my ramblings but here we go.

There is a difference between something coming out as random due to lack of quality writing when it comes to nuances and introductions and more so when it comes to handling the secondary characters and plot stories with care or lack of it and another thing all together of something coming out as random because it was unplanned.

One things that I am known for is my good memory. Back in S3 of TVD everyone thought that Klaroline was unplanned and later on the writers and especially JP tried to make it seem so especially when we were nearing the spin-off and afterwards when the KC fandom and the writers went in direct confrontation. As if either way that was meant to matter and the fans were meant to be grateful for and not criticize anything because the writers had done to the fandom a favor we didn’t deserve when it was the other way around. The spin-off’s creation owed a big part of its creation to Klaroline and the KC fandom the writers got advantage of over and over again while treating it with disrespect; a story that kept repeating itself for as long as TO lasted and even for the new show that was created out of it based on the media attention that KC kept providing and still provides occasionally with all the bait and switch JP is known for.

Getting back on KC though. One of the things JP hated was that she didn’t create it. She let it in Caroline Dries’ hands because she didn’t care and honestly she didn’t care much for the Originals either way. At least not in the way the fans did. This was why when the time came to create the spin-off you had only but a few Originals in. Kol was killed for no reason because somehow he was deemed too dark for the dark mature show. And to add insult to injury in the episode of his death they also had him referencing NOLA when they never meant to make him part of that show because what a crime for the fans to support something the writers don’t approve or want when everything are things THEY created in the first place (the nonsense and immaturity of it all makes my head spin). Rebekah was barely in the backdoor pilot and that as an afterthought. Finn, Esther, Mikael all dead. Stories retconned. The writers that got hired for that show did not belong to the genre (check gossip girl etc) and worse of it some of them that had no experience in writing shows hated Klaus’ character with a passion (and were hired for Klaus’ show). And all of the sudden a show about the Originals that was gained and built on the fans’ love for Klaus (born from Klaus, Joseph Morgan, the TVD Originals AND YES Klaroline too as JP had admitted in one of her interviews “KC gained Klaus his show”) became a show about a hated and rejected character like Hayley was and diapers that demanded the mythology and lore to be demolished and everything to become OOC.

Let us backtrack it a bit and connect all the pieces for anyone that is not too bored doing it and reading me speaking about it. Back in S3 of TVD Joseph Morgan who played Klaus loved Klaus and also let us face it loved having a job. He knew his character was gaining traction and he also knew the show and the writers in question and most of all the network he was working in. To exist in CW you need to be part of a popular ship. We can pretend as much as we like but we are talking about light entertainment and trash shows that thrive on media attention born from shipping. The most successful shows in the CW are those that have successful flagships. The characters that survive are those that are part of successful ships. Ships like Delena, Olicity and so on secure a show’s longevity and success.

Joseph Morgan back then knew that they would kill his character in the end. There was only one way for him to stay afloat in the universe and keep his job and the character standing. A ship. So he kept nagging and insisting for one. JP had humorously said so too back then. And granted I am a cynic but I will also give it to the guy that he also wanted, and for good reason, to give more layers to his character and expand his acting and make it more challenging and a love story could add more layers to his story, his characterization, etc. Nothing wrong with that.

And then one day JP gets all excited (so to get him off her back? lol) and tells him YAY! We have a GREAT idea you won’t believe but you are going to love! We will give you the love interest you have been begging us (and annoying us) for. And there you go enter Klaroline. Which they added -admittedly- a bit bluntly/awkwardly but on the other hand there was the barest of hints in 3x09 with the camera zooming up and down Caroline as Klaus called her Tyler’s “Pretty little girlfriend”. Directing when it comes to intentions is always important in the CW shows. Of course for an audience like the one in TVD that expects everything to be spelled out even in the foreshadowing and given the exposition the TVD writers were known for anything unexpected comes out as WTF moment and given how much hated a character or a ship is or how much another character and another ship may be this results in rejection or adoration and certainly in ship wars.

So we got 3x11 and Klaroline. And it really was no surprise given the situation that the first thing Morgan did was get in twitter and start promoting KC as much as he could. Just moments after 3x11 aired.

Did KC start a bit randomly? Maybe. It is not as if I’d expect anything better or a more intricate writing from these characters.

Did it happen fast as a story? I don’t think so. Not in TVD given the fact that as a show it was built on Stefan and Elena that they start their epic love story in the pilot, share their first kiss in the very second episode of the show, declare their love in the speed of light and have their first sex scene in the tenth episode of the show.

How about Klaroline being unplanned though? Of course it was not planned in the way Stelena and Delena ever were. Let us get that out of the way. But what of Caroline’s ships?

Let me remember that after 3x11 aired just a few days later the promotional pictures for 3x14 came out. Which meant that by the time 3x11 had aired and before people got interested in Klaroline 3x14 was being filmed or was already filmed but for sure the scripts were already written for it. Scripts that had Klaus saying to Caroline that he fancied her and there was flirting and building up a ship. So you tell me how the writers didn’t plan Klaroline from the start. When 3x14 was meant to be the original pitch for the spin-off in the network. There was a certain hype in the internal promotion of that episode in the network. That was the first taste they gave the network and basically said watch this is what we can do. 3x14 is still considered one of the most important episodes of TVD (to which there had been a lot of preparation for) and one of the most successful and popular that was basically the untitled backdoor pilot for what the Originals were meant to be (as a collective for building a show on them) and what TVD was all about. From the way the Originals reunited, to their infamous shot in the stairs, to the intrigue, the warfare. Right down to the romance (Klaroline, Rebekah and Matt (which no one spoke of how unexpected that was btw) etc), the magic, Esther as the villain, Finn as the antagonist, the blood tree with the Viking names, with how the TVD triangle was presented, the dance, right down to the hints they had given for Damon and Kol but later took back. For such an important episode nothing is left to chance trust me. And episode they were planning before 3x11. Klaroline was a big part of that episode that was set in motion before 3x11 aired. So let us get the fake pretenses out of the way because I am tired of them. (Also let me point out here that for an episode that was meant to be one of the signature episodes of TVD we saw exactly what JP was all about…her racism was showing big time…Bonnie was suddenly missing in an episode where a witch like her should be in her gown in the front and center but you see the trademark episode of TVD was whitewashed down to the last moment of it. Shocking right?…said no one ever…)

Anyway do I believe that Klaroline as it ended up being was planned? No. I think they meant it as a fluke. Something to fill air time for when Trevino due to his contract would be gone. Since Forwood had being doing relatively well back then. You know KC was meant to serve as an obstacle no one would particularly bother with aside from it being a fleeting thing. And a way to give more attention to Klaus and the spotlight to the Originals too. I think it was meant to do its short circle and if the network would not be interested in the Originals for Klaus to die by the end of S3. Something that Joseph Morgan and Claire Holt were fighting against as they were the ones that fought for getting a show for the Originals. They fought for the spin off and we all saw what happened with it and especially with Claire. And who ended up signing first even before Joseph. Goes to show how much JP had the Originals’ best interest in mind (Yes, that is sarcasm.)

But plans and what not Klaroline took them by storm. They hadn’t expected such popularity. Something to rival even Delena. Something from secondary characters that did not want to bother that much with and something that JP didn’t create. If KC was her baby I assure you her treatment of it and of the fans would have been much better. Especially since later on she tried to copy paste it and replicate it but couldn’t make anything work.

So if I think Klaroline was well executed. Tricky question LOL...I am always defending Klaroline. Subjectively and objectively to a degree but that does not change that Klaroline was still part of a certain work that lacked certain things.

In the midst of chaos that TVD was I’d say yeah for the most part but that doesn’t say much.

Let me be honest here. Klaroline never reached the potential it could have had. i used to be bitter about it. And I felt that I was cheated out of something awesome but later on I realized it was just as awesome exactly because it was left unfinished in the way it did. Given the alternatives as we saw them later on.

I think one of the reasons that Klaroline was saved -somewhat- quality wise (relatively) was because Klaus in TVD was straightforwardly the villain (no sugarcoating and bullshit to suddenly justify his crap in the expense of the plot and the other characters and even his own character) and both Klaus and Caroline were secondary characters. The focus thankfully was not on them. That meant that the usual crap Julie threw to the characters (especially female ones) and the ships she works with were not thrown in to Klaroline. There was not much screen time for JP to mess the ship up and most of the control for it was left in Caroline Dries’ hands. Of course the chemistry Joseph and Candice had was spectacular and that always helps but it was like catching lightning in a bottles. KC was more or less a ship that served its purpose as a characterization piece for both Klaus and Caroline when it came to them as a ship and their individual characters. Klaroline did not affect the plot that much -if at all- but did wonders for the character development of Klaus and Caroline. We saw more layers, depths, nuances and things that belonged to the particular vampire genre that were missing from the show in certain ways. Everything just clicked. And there were also controversial scenes given to them that they would never dare give to anyone else that added to the complicated web of everything that Klaroline was. It was raw and demanded a more intellectual approach to fill in the blanks. What I loved about Klaroline was that it was not brimming with exposition. Not everything had to be spelled out. Which is always good. More is less in many cases. Some may feel that less is undeveloped. And I’d agree up to a point that Klaroline’s development was cut in half because of reasons that had nothing to do with Klaroline and the writing to pander to those reasons lack consistence, respect and logic. Otherwise up to the point Klaroline was worked with I’d say that things were generally executed decently. Of course even back then JP kept KC for the sweeps and the promotion so the pace was jarring many times with KC being absent even for up to six months until the KC fandom was needed for the ratings and the media circulation. But I am also a believer that good things come to those that wait and quantity does not necessarily mean quality. Klaroline in the end had substance, something that TVD was known for lacking but I am also honest enough to admit that a lot of that when it came to Klaroline was created by the potential it had as a ship. What could have been and would have been ended up being the pillars that kept the KC fandom going and was better that what was in the end which is something that applied to everything TVD ever did. And by everything I mean...everything. Not a single thing excluded.

So overall if I take a step back I think that Klaroline was the ship of dreams in the way that dreams made it float. Klaroline was all for the potential. Of what it was promised to be. Of what it could be, what it could have been. The kind of ship that in the hands of capable writers would have left history but in when it came to the TVD writers we unfortunately were left with wasted potential but even so it still held on to shreds of quality that many things from TVD were missing. Because in comparison I believe that despite the wasted potential Klaroline as it was was still far better than most of the things TVD ever worked with. And that speaks volumes. (I am not even including TO in because that’s just a joke at this point.)

Klaroline was built on interesting tropes and subverted certain tropes too. While Delena for example was based on the bad boy/antihero - good girl trope Klaroline was based on the enemies to lovers trope with one part of it being the villain and the other part being the kind of female character that didn’t regress but found agency in the ship something that was denied from every other female character TVD had. The fact that Klaroline also belonged to the golden writing age of TVD before the quality went to shit was a blessing in disguise as was the fact that they dropped the ship when they did.

I honestly believe that we dodged a bullet. As weird as it may sound. Given the mess TO proved to be, given what JP did with TVD once Kevin was completely out. I’d say that even though they cut Klaroline in mid development given what followed then we were particularly lucky. Better wounded and saved than completely and utterly destroyed in the core.

#Klaroline #anti julie plec #mymeta #anti TVD #I guess #Anonymous #anti the originals

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