#i hope i actually brought the joke up within all those paragraphs

[hollowwhisperings]

The Mythology of Keyblades: Riku the Beach Boy of Avalon

This theory is partially Crack and partially a genuine investigation into the usage of Arthurian mythology within the KH series.

(this line from Monty Python & the Holy Grail inspired this whole theory: all i had to do was replace the referenced [Lady of the Lake] with Riku)

If you've loitered about the Kingdom Hearts fandom enough and read enough interviews with Tetsuya Nomura, you'll soon conclude that Riku is Tetsuya Nomura's Favourite Child in this series. Riku is the driving force for most of KH's story beats & Riku has played deuteragonist to Sora, story-wise if not in gameplay, in every game that isn't a prequel. Riku seems to gain a new & unique special ability with every game (often at a harsh price). Yet, for all the time the audience spends with Riku... the series is very careful about revealing anything about the boy beyond his utter devotion to Sora. The game even encourages players to Forget and Overlook the integral roles Riku plays in the series, typically via throwing a Kairi between him & Sora.

Jokes aside, while Riku's Secret Anime Prince coding is STRONG, it is not the point being explored here: there are 2 seemingly nonsensical Disney Crossovers established prior to most everything else: 'Alice in Wonderland' (something somewhat explored in my 'Princesses of Light as Stars' series of tinhattery) and 'The Sword In The Stone'. This post shall examine the latter, an animated adaption of the King Arthur myth, and how it is represented in KH not solely through the character of 'Merlin' but as the underlying principle behind the x-blade, Keyblade Wielding & how Riku acts as Kingdom Hearts itself.

Boy at Beach Distrubiting Swords

Let's start with Riku's Keyblades: he has had more than one, not due to gears or keychains but due to... apparently being able to churn fresh swords from his Heart as the Plot Requires.

The different keyblades used by Riku throughout the series thus far are the following:

Kingdom Key (Sora's default keyblade)

Souleater/Way to the Dawn (Riku's default from KH1 until KH2.9)

the Keyblade of Heart (while possessed by Apprentice Xehanort's Heartless, AKA Ansem Seeker of Darkness);

the [Combined Keyblade/"Gayblade"] (alongside Sora)

Braveheart (Riku's current keyblade)

(given that King Mickey found Kingdom Key-D in the Dark equivalent of the Destiny Islands & the whole "x-blade was made of light & darkness" thing... THAT keyblade, currently wielded by King Mickey, may ALSO come from Riku)

That's 5 different keyblades (6 if we include Kingdom Key-D), and ALL have been seen onscreen with at least 1 other, typically Kingdom Key, marking each of these keyblades as being 'distinct' and 'separate' from each other. Before figuring out what Heart Maths may be at play here... a brief interlude.

Young Adult Gifts Toddler Giant Sword: More Wholesome than it Sounds

Supposedly, the ability to [manifest] & "wield" a keyblade is only possible through a successful Bequeathing Ceremony: Terra performed such a ceremony for Riku in BBS. This, however, is a method passed on by the Master of Masters & subsequent schools of keyblade masters: given... literally EVERYTHING seen on "traditional" schools of keyblade mastery, this Premise is Factually Dubious. The series shows multiple characters manifesting or otherwise wielding keyblades without any such ceremonies: even assuming that these rites "carry over" through acts of Posession and Cloning, the Need for a ceremony becomes questionable. This would not be the first (nor last) time in the KH series that the "knowledge" of Foretellers, Mentors & Scholars prove to be Assumptions rather than Absolute Fact.

Exhibit A: Axel & Accidents

Axel is the best example as, unless we are later informed that Subject X performed the ceremony on Lea (or that Roxas or Xion did so without knowing), Axel has never been part of nor possessed by an existing keyblade wielder: his keyblade is entirely his own, a surprise to all.

Sora & Kairi were never formally bequeathed a keyblade though the latter "accidentally" inherited the ability from Aqua in BBS. Sora never had such a ceremony, the KH Wiki (dubious resource that it is) explains Sora's keyblade wielding as being a result of Ventus sleeping within Sora's Heart: I think it is more likely that, unlike the Formal Ceremonies of past keyblade schools may have taught, Hearts do not actually require outside recognition of "worth" in order to manifest a keyblade.

Once Upon A Meteor Shower

Riku's Heart entrusting Kingdom Key to Sora in KH1, a last-ditch effort from its Light to keep to its Oath of Protection, strikes me as being more "faithful" to what we have observed of keyblades in-game. For all that the formally schooled Keyblade Wielders past recited "May Your Heart Be Your Guiding Key", no one embodies the intent of this principle more than the entirely self-taught Sora: Riku and King Mickey likely next closest in trusting their Hearts over what they have been taught.

A Heart entrusting its physical manifestation to Another due to the Connection between them seems a "Truer" bequeathment than the (admittedly heartwarming) recitations of a stranger. Keyblades may NOW be deemed "weapons" to conquer Darkness... but the original x-blade was made of Light AND Darkness, a union of forces working in balance rather than opposition. The first x-blade was a tool for Protection, not Hurt: a creation of Heart and, thus, of Love.

Exhibit B: Body & Hearts

A creation of "Heart". As in, 1 heart = 1 keyblade. Multiple hearts in 1 body? Multiple keyblades.

Roxas is the Go-To example: the Nobody Twin of Naminé, created when Sora "unlocked" Kairi from his Heart whilst Ventus slept within it.

Roxas, in his every appearance, is capable of Dual Wielding: a keyblade from Sora, a keyblade from Ventus. Upon gaining an independent, replika body... Roxas can still, apparently, dual-wield.

...despite no longer sharing the Hearts of Sora nor Ventus (nor Xion).

(as this is a Riku speculation post, not a "what the heck is up with Roxas" one, i'll just... put a Pin in this mystery for now but the "maths" of 1 heart = 1 keyblade are, indeed, still facts of canon: Nomura confirmed as much when revealing the Above Album Art he made for Utada Hikaru's KH3 songs)

Exhibit C: Proof of Concept

Then we have Aqua: she lost her keyblade between saving Ven & falling into Darkness. The keyblade of Master Eraqus came to her aid: this is consistent with the established concept of Bequeathing Ceremonies. It's uncertain whether the same person can bequeath keyblade-wielding to multiple persons but it seems likely given the scale of the Unions in KHX.

(At that same point in time, the Heart of Eraqus was hidden within a Nort'd Terra: 3 Hearts existed within Apprentice Xehanort, all of them in conflict with each other, to varying degrees.)

The keyblade Aqua receives, the keyblade of Master Eraqus, is named 'Master's Defender'. This was originally the keyblade of the Dandelion Brain but was passed onto Ephemer and from pupil to student until eventually being inherited by Eraqus. This seemingly aligns with the concept of Masters 'bequeathing' keyblades to students, specifically THEIR keyblades.

Interestingly, Riku has never wielded Terra's keyblade (or its likeness, via keychain) 'Earthshaker/Ends of the Earth' after its being bequeathed to him, likely due to its remaining with Terra's 'Soul', the 'Lingering Will' within his armour. If this is the case... NONE of the keyblades Riku has conjured or wielded are a result of his Bequeathment Ceremony. Terra's Keyblade becomes a 6th (or 7th) keyblade connected to Riku, albeit an unused one.

Speaking of Terra...

Xemnas (the Nobody of Apprentice Xehanort AKA 'TerraNort') is NEVER seen wielding a keyblade, let alone two.

...but he DOES wield two [lightsabers]/'Ethereal Blades'.

If Xemnas had ever believed in his own personhood, it's plausible that he could have dual wielded keyblades like Roxas... though the conflict between the Hearts of Xehanort & Terra are unlikely to have cooperated long enough for dualwielding to be sustainable in combat.

Back to the Beginning

Kingdom Key was formed by the Light within Riku's Heart. That Light entrusted itself to Sora while Riku himself was lost in Darkness. Riku is later seen wielding a different keyblade, 'Soul Eater'. Given that KH1 sets up a premise of there being 'two' Kingdom Keys, one of Light & one of Darkness... perhaps 'Soul Eater' was made from the Darkness within Riku's Heart. Maleficent or Ansem SOD would know better than most anyone how to create such a thing.

(it's still Weird that Riku's Heart is the ONLY Heart we see capable of manifesting TWO, simultaneously existing & separately wielded keyblades: Riku using Souleater never prevented Sora from using Kingdom Key; Souleater becoming 'Way to the Dawn' did not affect Kingdom Key; and Riku & Sora use each other's keyblades interchangeably in KH2, even dualwielding at times)

While Riku is possessed by Ansem SoD (the heartless of Apprentice Xehanort), he wields a keyblade forged by the hearts of 6 of the 7 Princesses of Heart: this keyblade is named 'Keyblade of Heart' or 'Keyblade of People's Hearts'. This is an artificially made keyblade, wielded by an entity made up of at least 4 people's Hearts (Riku, Xehanort, Terra, Eraqus) and it does not seem to survive past Ansem SoD's defeat.

During the events of KH2.9 (at the 'Drop Point' between the first timeline of KH3 & Sora's First Retcon), Riku and King Mickey find themselves struggling in the depths of the Realm of Darkness. They had hoped to find the missing Master Aqua yet their journey has only proven the point of Master Yen Sid's preventing such a rescue 10 years prior: alone, surviving the journey to the abyss would be all but impossible. Similarly, Sora immediately post-DDD would not have survived the pace set by Mickey & Riku: Sora needed the lessons and confidence boost he found through Herc & Meg before he was truly ready for Aqua's Attempted Rescue.

Before Sora has his Hero Moment (complete with Riku's slow-mo heart-eye reaction to it), Riku's keyblade 'Way to the Dawn'... breaks. Riku also spontaneously gets a Hair Cut. Not due to any attack landing on him from the Demon Tide nor due to any bout of Gay Agony: just... "randomly" (Sleeping Realm Theory covers this).

So then Riku casually manifests a BRAND NEW KEYBLADE, while not at all possessed nor acting as a Heart Hotel, and that keyblade is Braveheart.

(which is basically Kingdom Key but Make It Modern)

It's also in the Realm of Darkness that Sora & Riku first wield their Combined Keyblade whilst in the same plane of reality: in DDD, they wielded their blade across parallel dreamscapes. The [combined keyblade] in KH3 looks exactly as it did in Dream Drop Distance: half Mirage Split, half Nightmare's End.

How Many Hearts Does 1 Riku Have?

The highest number of "hearts" occupying 1 Riku is 10, in KH1: his own, Xehanort's & Terra's, the ghost of Master Eraqus (still biding his time for Maximum Drama), with the 6 Disney Princesses of Heart smooshed within the 'Keyblade of Heart' the Riku Vessel is wielding.

By that time in KH1, both Sora and Riku have wielded Kingdom Key. Riku had also acquired & begun wielding the 'Souleater' keyblade.

Kingdom Key is the keyblade born of the Light in Riku's Heart: a sword entrusted to a Crowned Prince from someone hidden within water, a gift that marks its wielder as a saviour and a fate-chosen king. Sora bears Riku's Crown, a pendant he is never seen without, and Riku (& his Heart) was sinking within both literal (storm and tide) and metaphoric (falling into darkness/sinking within deep waters) waters when Sora receives Kingdom Key. When Sora arrives in Traverse Town, the Final Fantasy & Disney characters there hold Kingdom Key in reverence: the Key follows Sora so THEY follow him too.

There is an Irony about every keyblade-related argument Sora & Riku have in KH1: Kingdom Key WAS Riku's before it was Sora's, the authority of the sword & reverence given to its wielder WAS on "loan" from Riku... but, ultimately, the wielder chosen by the Physical Representation of Riku's Heart & the Light within it?

Yeah, no, sorry Riku: your Heart Likes Sora More.

After KH1, Riku never attempts to "reclaim" Kingdom Key: it's probably during the events between KH1 & KH2 that Riku realises that Kingdom Key is not only a literal manifestation of his own Heart but that he believes Sora to be the best person to wield that "Heart", that "Destiny".

Even if Riku had not somehow managed to manifest the Souleater/Way to the Dawn keyblade, needing to "borrow" Kingdom Key during his year-long vigil at Sora's bedside... I doubt he would have KEPT the sword or that it would let itself be "kept".

Riku's unique connections to both Light AND Darkness make it somewhat reasonable to conclude that 'Souleater' is the Dark counterpart to Kingdom Key: a keyblade formed by the Darkness of Riku's Heart, a keyblade that evolves to 'Way to the Dawn' and Riku's efforts to master his Darkness and return to the Light.

(this still begs the question: how the heck does Kingdom Key-D fit into all this?? no, i'm genuinely asking: what is up with that keyblade)

ALTERNATIVELY! Kingdom Key-D was very logically forged by Riku's Darkness, manifesting in the Realm of Darkness alongside the Fallen Destiny Islands. This makes it Interesting that Mickey could carry it around prior to personally meeting Riku but, regardless of any realizations on its nature & likely relationship with Riku (or Sora), Mickey wields this keyblade-D from KH1 onward.

(This potentially leaves Mickey's Original Keyblade, seen in BBS, as yet ANOTHER keyblade available for Riku's use: the count has risen to 9, 8 if excluding Key-D.)

So... if Riku's Darkness forged Kingdom Key-D, what was Souleater & what IS Braveheart?

Alt #1: Riku, like any Strange Pond Person, can summon as many Magic Swords as Destiny Requires because... he is Literally Kingdom Hearts & that leaves ALL hearts "free" for his use.

Alt #2: The keyblades Riku wields (Souleater, Way to the Dawn & Braveheart) are all manifestations of SORA'S Heart. Sora may be oblivious as to why he is so fixated on Riku but, if Chain of Memories is anything to go by, Sora's HEART knows what it wants, damnit! Even without any allegedly required Bequeathment Ceremony, Riku is a "Child of Destiny" and had already crowned Sora as one too: just as Riku's Heart reached out to Sora, Sora's Heart may have reached BACK for Riku. Thus both boys end up with Keyblades: each holding onto a piece of the other (somewhat literally).

This gives additional explanation to their easy trading & wielding of each other's Keyblades in KH2: the keyblades "belonged" to BOTH boys and always had.

This interpretation easily applies itself to Sleeping Realm Theory, too: 'Way to the Dawn' still "broke" because of Riku's Sacrifice but instead of figuratively representing Riku's Heart "breaking" via his actually Dying, it would represent physically the effect that Sacrifice had on Sora: his Heart broke, "dying" with Riku.

Alt #3: Riku's extra keyblades were from Maleficent, "Ansem", Ansem &/or King Mickey. The timeline allows for Maleficent's providing Riku with the 'Souleater' keyblade: it does not QUITE align for the broken connection between Riku & his Would-Be Fairy Godmother that we can assume happened upon her death in KH1, nor account for any effects caused by her subsequent "resurrection". The timelines required for the other candidates to be involved are not consistent with that of the games nor supplementary canon.

Before wrapping up, let's acknowledge the Giant Crowned Rainbow Sword in the room:

The [combined keyblade], wielded by Riku & Sora in DDD & KH3, is a manifestation of "their Hearts [beating] In Tune". It is That Simple: any efforts to straightwash its existence WILL cause plot holes so just Accept The Gayblade is Gay.

That the Gayblade just so coincidentally resembles both the Ultima keyblade(s) and various x-blades, definitely fit most description of what the x-blade is & how it can be made?

These are also Just Gay. Kingdom Hearts has been building up to (gay) Love being the Ultimate Power of the series from its very beginning: it has ALWAYS used heart imagery and symbolism, used Disney Couples to mirror the changing relationship of Sora & Riku, used "the connections between hearts" as a child's understanding of love (in all forms).

The logical evolution for a Coming of Age journey about a Boy & his Best Friend, in a series that repeatedly uses & is named for 'hearts', who have become stronger as their hearts became more attuned... is for said Boy to realise, acknowledge and recognise that the connection of their hearts has Changed into something less platonic: romantic love, like that between couples in Disney films, like Riku (& Selphie) brought up to Sora through star-shaped fruit before ever exploring those stars personally.

The [combined keyblade] was naturally forged through mutual devotion: its existence implies that the fabled x-blade of legend was ALSO forged by mutual love, that Kingdom Hearts chose its guardian because of Love, that the x-blade's legendary strengh came from its need to protect its dearly Beloved: there is no Straight Explanation for Sora & Riku being able to make the combined keyblade.

[dimensionwriter]

Wings of Love

Male Dragon x GN! Reader

Warning: None, just usual fluff

Word Count: 3,266

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Remember to like, reblog, and comment. Thank you.

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Rain drops lightly dusted the small village. The village was filled with children running around with their mouth open trying to catch raindrops, parents trying to run errands, and elders idly chatting with each other about the olden times.

The forest outlined the right side of the village with small random openings where most villagers go during times of boredom or special occasions. To the left, for miles upon miles there were fields that the farmers used to harvest all the village's food.

But far off in the distance, there sat the tallest mountain that was covered in black charcoal rocks with no signs of life on it. There thrive no plants nor animals, for they may know what lies it in.

Centuries ago, the village told tales of how there lived a monstrous dragon that was almost as tall as the mountain. Teeth bigger than yourself and so sharp that it could shred you as if you were wet paper. Wings strong enough to lay trees flat in a forest for miles with only one flap. It's skin was eerie green that allowed the beast to blend in with the tree, that way it was easier to capture any foolish child that wandered into the forest. Soulless black eyes that showed signs of no morals, for a beast like itself didn't need them.

That was the story that every person brought into the village was told. Until the beast actually came from the mountain to the village. As expected, the village was thrown into shambles with screams of scared children, worried parents, and fearful men.

As the villagers prepared themselves for the worst, the dragon simply lowered it's head. The villagers grew weary of the supposedly neutralizing action.

The dragon opens its mouth to reveal those flesh shredding sharp teeth. There was no doubt that this was the dragon from the tales. It was him, with his head bowed.

He began to speak softly in broken English. He spoke of wishing to end the fearful image of himself and instead hope to reside peacefully with the humans. All this said with his head still bowed.

That day is now celebrated as Dragon Birth, for it was the beginning of an era of peace between the supposed monstrous dragon and the village.

Due to the agreement of peace being made, the dragon showed itself a lot more to the village. At first, they still feared him, but as the time went on and the children grew into adults and the leaves all fell from the tree, the dragon became a part of the village.

"History of the Dragon Village? Trying to look up our history," someone joked, pulling the book out of your hand. You blinked slowly trying to get your eyes adjusted to looking at shape instead of words.

Today felt like a great day to just sit under a tree and enjoy the nice warm weather. On your way here, you stopped by the library to just pick up a random book to enjoy while you just simply existed in nature.

Brandon, the idiot who decided to snatch your book out of your hand without having the audacity to save your page, was the son of the butcher in the village. He could sometimes be very eccentric, but was overall a nice company to come around.

"Can't you read something, I don't know, more interesting," he asked spinning on his bare feet in the grass. He started walking off in a direction opening the book. Letting out a fake cough, he began to read from the book.

"The once weary villagers begin to see the dragon as a protector over the village. As a change in view, the Sunset Village changed their name to Dragon Village." He stopped as he doubled over in laughter.

Grabbing at the bark of the tree, you lifted yourself off the ground. Brandon continued to laugh as he stumbled over to you. You gave him a curious smile to try to understand what could evoke such a joyous reaction.

"This village sucks at naming things. Uhhh, we see the sun going down, so why not name it sunset village? Perfect. Wait, we befriended a dragon now. Whelp, change that to dragon village. What about when the dragon dies? Are we going to become ex-Dragon village or We had a dragon village."

A snort of laughter slipped out at you from Brandon's overexaggerated faces. He always told jokes with such a passion for it. This is what made his company so welcoming.

"How about, he gone village?" you joked along bumping his shoulder. He bent over backwards as laughter spilled out of him. He grabbed his stomach as he continued to repeat your new village name. Brandon was so easy to make laugh, but one could not help but feel proud at getting such a reaction to a joke you made.

"I haven't laughed that hard all day," he said wiping the tears from his eyes. He handed you back the book with a smile on his tan skin. Brandon was known to be the handsomest boy in the village. He was, but he just didn't interest you.

All males and females knew he was hot. But, he just seemed plain. Being absolutely honest, none of the villagers caught your eye. There were some nice people, but no one you were willing to marry. Sadly, that time was coming so soon.

"I came over here to tell you that my mom said she got some new flower seeds if you're interested," he said, turning his head to the sky. His light green eyes reflected the tiny wisps of clouds flowing past.

"Really, tell her I said I'll come over by noon," you said showing your excitement as you slowly lowered yourself back to the ground. Brandon's mom sometimes asked you to help her with her garden since she's too old to do it now. And it somehow resulted in her being your flower partner. She always came to you about any new flower she saw or read about or received. It was absolutely adorable.

Brandon gave a curt nod before spinning on his heels and running back into town. He was always so full of energy no matter where the sun stood in the sky.

Flipping through the pages of the book, you tried to find where you stopped off. It ended with the agreement of peace between the dragon and the village.

Just as you saw the paragraph you stopped, a huge gust of wind blew the book out of your hand. That wasn't no normal air gust. That was the winds from something that could flatten miles of trees with a single beat of wings

The dragon hasn't been seen in days. You thought maybe it took to hibernating early or was flying around the world. If you had the ability to, you would.

Lifting your head to the sky, there it was. The protector of the village, Kaos the dragon. He was more majestic than this silly history book could put into words.

He landed a couple of meters away from you, near the edge of the patch of open space. His body was full of muscles, even though he was centuries old. His green scales are just as vibrate as always.

His legs folded underneath him and he laid his head gently on the ground. He tails rose up before laying down over his side.

Was he resting? Is he okay? Of course he is, he's a dragon. Maybe you could ask him?

Tucking you book into a small bag you brought, you begin to sneakily make your way over to the dragon. You were sure if he wanted to, he could sense you. But not a single scale on his body has moved.

His breathing was quite calm, not quite as heavy as you thought. He appears to be sleeping. Does he really trust your village so much as to just choose a random place out in the open to sleep?

His scales seemed so sharp and firm, but the way they move with his breathing seem to make them appear as liquid. His entire body seemed to be a weapon, but he carried himself as if he was nothing more than a delicate flower.

To be honest, you've always been curious about your town's protector. You were one of the unlucky ones who never got a chance to talk to him. During your youth, while all the children were playing with Kaos, you stayed in your house studying or working. As you got older, you found yourself with a packed schedule. So your only interaction with Kaos was walking past him or seeing him off in the distance.

This may actually be the closest you have ever been to him. And it's truly a humbling experience.

"You can touch them if you're curious." A soft grumbly voice spoke out. His voice reminds you of hearing thunder miles away. Something so powerful, but with restraint.

"Sorry," you yelled, stumbling away. How did you notice you woke him? How foolish of you. Obviously, he's a high class predator who would be disturbed by a prey coming closer.

"It's fine. Are you a traveler from far away?" Kaos asked, lifting his head closer to you. His snout was covered with a long scratch going from the tip of his nostril close to his left eyes. His eyes seem to hold all the night within them. A marvelous creature.

"Oh, no. I grew up here," you said, feeling disappointed at not being noticed. Kaos knew everyone who resides in the village. But he doesn't know you. Of course he doesn't.

"Oh, I sincerely apologize," he yelped, getting on his feet and turning his entire body in front of you. He stood so much taller than you. You were barely the height of his legs. "How could I forget a villager?"

"It's not your fault. I never really interacted with you before today," you admitted shyly. His head tilted to the side and he lowered himself to the grown. Cautiously he folded his legs under himself, but kept his neck and head up.

"Well, that's a shame. You seem like such an interesting person," he said smiling softly at you. How can a beast seem so gentle?

"Oh, I'm not really interesting. I mean I am nothing but a mere human from a small village," you said splaying your hands out to your home village. You didn't hate your village. You honestly loved every person in here. But some days, the only interesting things in the village seem to be how time moves so slow.

"Humans are absolutely wondrous creatures. You are always changing and moving. Every obstacle you face, you take it head on," he spoke with such pride in his voice. He really viewed humans at high status. But why for?

"How about this little human? Since I somehow missed getting to know you, would you mind entertaining this dragon for an afternoon. I would love to hear about you."

You open your mouth to tell that he would obviously be bored. But the way his head tilted and a small smile spread onto his mouth. It made you stop yourself.

"Um, guess I should start from the beginning. I do apologize if I bore you," you stuttered out. Kaos let out a laugh that reverberated through your soul.

"You humans can never bore me," he mumbled, nudging you gently with his clawed finger. You let out a flustered laugh of your own at the indirect compliment.

So, you spent the rest of your afternoon talking to Kaos on your existence. He asked you all about your hobbies and even went deeper on why you enjoyed them.

The sun slowly went down the horizon and painted the sky in an array of colours. Even though the sky looked absolutely beautiful, it was nothing compared to the soft pink glow reflecting off of his earthly green skin. How can something so dangerous look so pure?

"I do not understand how you assumed you would bore me," he whispered, craning his neck to look at you again. You looked down in overwhelming embarrassment.

This magnificent creature paid attention to whatever you said. You were sure that the tale of your boring and tedious life would cast a sleeping spell on him, but he was alert the entire time. How could he care so much about a simple human like you?

"I mean, probably compared to your tales, mines dull in comparison," you said brushing him off. He shook his head at you with a small smile stretching up his snout. The pink light reflected off his teeth making them shine like freshly buffed jewels.

"My tales consist of me living in a cave and sleeping. And a few of me flying around in the air. I think the most interesting thing that has happened was a tiny bird attacking me." A small giggle escaped your mouth before you could stop it. The thought of Kaos' face as the bird attacked him was just too humorous .

"Apologies," you said, trying to stop your laughter. A playful smirk painted onto Kaos' face as he stared at you through his peripheral.

"It's fine. I can laugh it off now. The little rascal was angry because the wind from my wings caused him to stumble through the air. It really was a shame that he had sharp talons," he grumbled with his lips pouted. You didn't know it was possible for a dragon to pout, but now that you did, you could put it down as one of your weaknesses.

He reached one of his paws up and rubbed at the scar going down his snout. Wait a minute…was that scar…and the bird?

You didn't mean to laugh as hard as you did. By the way Kaos jumped at you sound, told you that he wasn't expecting the laughter. The giant green tail stood at attention for a few seconds before falling back down.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, but a few giggles still managed to escape past your lips. Even though the laughter was unexpected, it still left you with this happy fuzzy feeling that seemed to be spreading throughout your body.

"I'm sorry, sir," you giggled softly. You uncrossed your legs and let your body fall softly onto the cool grass. The sun had almost completely disappeared under the horizon, but it barely registered in your head. "My mind came up with this hypothesis that it was… simply a bird that caused that scar on your face."

His paw lifted up again and ran against the scar. He seemed to be careful of the claws on his fingers and used more of the soft pads.

"Sadly, you hypothesize true," he grumbled tilting his head away from you. You don't think he took into how much space he occupied, because even with his head turned, you saw a good portion of his face. And you almost didn't believe your eyes when a slight purple hue began to spread onto his cheeks.

"A bird did that to you!" You exclaimed in disbelief. Kaos nodded his head in embarrassment before trying to hide his face under his folded arms. The purple colour darkened due to his confession and trailed down to the top of his neck. The scales in that area were a lot thicker, so it covered up the spreading colour more.

"I didn't want to hurt the tiny creature, so I tried my best to blow a little air on him to get me to leave me alone. Next thing I know, one of his talons is heading straight towards me." A small puff of air escaped from his lips from his light laughter. It was a good thing that he could laugh about this now.

The moon light filtered through the clouds in small sprays of spotlights. One appeared over Kaos, highlighting his warm green scales in a soft blue light. Seeing him in this new lighting made him feel more real. You've always held him on a pedestal, but he's just an average… dragon.

"Human," he purred out, turning his head towards you. He was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath fanning against your cool skin. It felt so nice and safe to be here. Quite ironic how you felt this way while being surrounded by such a majestic and powerful creature. "It should be close to your time of rest. Is it not?"

Your eyes glanced up at the moon rising even higher into the sky. However, your eyes preferred to look into the midnight black eyes of Kaos. Their radiance shined brighter than any star or moon in the sky.

The corner of his mouth lifted up. He pressed the tip of his nose into your foot. The nudge was so light and careful, but the playfulness was present.

"Go home. Please, rest." How could you resist him when he looked at you like that? The scales around his mouth slowly glistening from being pushed along with his hooded eyes

You had to push down the desire to throw a tantrum and wrap your arms around Kaos and beg for him to stay. You are not a child. You just need to be mature about this.

Silently, you reached over and pushed your borrowed book into your bag. A few of the pages' edges were wrinkle due to the powerful wind from Kaos' wings. Even though you were still there with him, it felt nice that there was something you could remember this meeting by.

"It was nice of you to entertain me for the evening. Thank you so much, Kaos," you whispered staring down at the ground. His body shifted around until he was facing you.

"You do plan on visiting me again tomorrow, right?" You couldn't help the shock expression that came onto your face. This moment truly felt like a dream and he would allow you to indulge in it for longer. "I have many sun and moon passings to make up for."

You couldn't stop the smile coming onto your face. Nothing but pure happiness flowed fervently through your veins. Good thing the darkness covered your current state, seeing as you could feel the heat rushing to the tip of your ears and across your face.

He lowered his head a little and nudged your stomach with his nose. A laugh escaped out of you at his actions. "You are tempting me to converse more with you. Go now, human. When you return when the sun rises, I will be right here."

You nodded while taking a step back. You began your quick journey back into the town. It was barely visible now since most of the candle lights were now out in their houses.

Before reaching the edge, you spun around towards the clearing. Standing at full height with his wings lightly beating in the silver moonlight was the magnificent Kaos. But even with the distance, you felt a little closer to him.

You gave a parting wave before running back into town. The sound of your feet hitting the rocky pavement was the only sound around.

Although, you barely notice as you let the full smile come onto your face. A few victorious jumps may have happened, but the only witness was the moon and calm spirits of night. For nothing could ruin this joyous moment for you.

"Wait a minute. Brandon's mom!"

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I'm so happy about this story. I've always wanted to write about a dragon and I did it. It may have took me almost a year to finish it, but here it is. I'm kind of proud of how this came out.

Thank you so much for reading. Please leave a like and comment about anything. I love to read comments. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.💜💜💜

[halothenthehorns]

OWL POST

OWL POST

Next morning dawned very bright and early for the household, despite their late evening they were all up and around well before a normal breakfast. Since he was the first one up, Sirius decided to make breakfast before Lily could kick him out of the kitchen, which also meant breakfast was a very quick affair. They were all settled down and ready to read within an hour of being awake, highly anxious to get reading again.

Sirius, having finished off last time, passed the book along to Harry for his start.

The narrative starts by stating the simple fact that Harry Potter was considered an unusual boy.

"Oh come on Harry, you're not that weird," James said bracingly, "odd stuff just seems to happen to you."

Harry grinned lightly without looking up, deciding to read the reasons he felt he was so weird before he really believed him.

Beginning to list the reasons, the first of which was that he hated his summer holidays.

"So do I," Sirius mock pouted, "so are you saying I'm unusual."

Before Harry could even answer, Remus really did mock him, saying, "Sirius, Harry doesn't have to say that. I'm saying it for him."

While Harry laughed at the pair, Sirius just huffed and grumbled a bit with a smile.

Another reason was that he actually wanted to do his homework,

"That's not so odd either," Lily chuckled, getting into this now, "I enjoyed doing my homework all the time. It was always something fun and unusual."

"That's just because you didn't grow up around magic," James rolled his eyes, "if you did, you'd just think of it as boring homework."

but was forbidden and now did it in secret during the nights.

Then they all grimaced in disgust as they now firmly remembered where exactly Harry was, and why he would be doing that.

The last of his reasons, he was a wizard.

"Right," James drew the word out in disbelief. "So what about all of that made you unusual again?"

"Well when you put it like that it's not," Harry chuckled, "but sitting around thinking about it..." he trailed off.

They all smiled indulgently at him, pleased he truly did seem to be relaxing and finally making more jokes.

The timing properly started at midnight, Harry lay awake under his bed sheet working on previously said homework, an essay about Witch Burning from the Fourteenth Century and why it was pointless, and gaining knowledge of the subject from his text entitled A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot.

"I actually remember that essay vividly," Lily giggled, "it was pretty funny to find out the lengths wizards go to hide themselves from Muggles, when Muggles can't hardly find us when we're not even trying to hide."

Using his quill he was scanning the page looking for something to add to his essay and came across a likely paragraph, going into details about one witch in particular deemed Wendelin the Weird who enjoyed being caught simply for the use of using a tickle charm she'd hidden in the flames.

"I can't imagine how she got her nickname," Sirius said, mock-puzzled and wondering why she didn't just perform that charm herself, rather than being 'caught.'

"How did that work though?" Harry asked, realizing the book wasn't going to explain further. "The Muggles would have been sitting there watching, and wouldn't they have noticed she wasn't burning up?"

Remus happily explained, "since the smoke was in everyone's eyes so much, they most often did these in open fields and such, they could just disappear before the charm wore off. Anyone who

heard the loud crack it makes, just assumed it was logs or even the bones breaking, stuff like that."

Harry nodded in understanding, having a pang in his chest as he realized this kind of answer would never go in his essay, because he hadn't been able to ask them this. It was the small, little things that still got to him and reminded him that his home life really had sucked.

Harry carefully pulled out a bottle of ink and then used his quill to carefully begin scratching notes on the topic, silently as possible. He feared that if the family he lived with, the Dursleys, heard the pointed sound,

"I always wanted to ask," Harry butted in again, "why do we use quills, instead of pens?"

Both Lily and Remus released bursts of laughter at this, Lily explaining, "trust me, I think every muggle-born's asked that at some point or another. Professor Flitwick explained it saying that it's just more traditional. He tried to give a muggle comparison, saying it's why some teachers still want you to use print instead or cursive on your homework, even though there's no real difference at the end results."

Harry shrugged and said thanks, happy that random little thing was explained.

he would definitely get in major trouble for it, likely being locked in the cupboard for the remainder of his holidays.

Their good mood was gone in an instance, all wanting to threaten or far worse to those Muggles Harry was forced to live with, but Harry wasn't hearing of it as he read on loudly.

The Dursley family of number four, Privet Drive, was the reason that Harry never enjoyed his summer holidays.

Sirius began saying something rather foul at once, but Harry was still diligently ignoring them and continuing.

His Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son, Dudley, were Harry's only living relatives. They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude toward magic.

"Medieval, that about sums it up," Lily agreed bitterly.

Harry's dead parents,

Even Harry couldn't keep a hitch out of his voice as he forced himself to read that.

who had been a witch and wizard, were never mentioned. For years in Harry's younger life Petunia and Vernon had done their best to keep Harry as miserable as possible, hoping to squash his hereditary magic out of him.

This time Harry had to cut across all four of them trying to continue their threats, but Harry refused to let them get on for long. He didn't want their tempers' spiking, and for them to possibly rile themselves up enough to go out and act on those threats.

To their horror, it hadn't worked, so they now lived in fear of what anyone would think if they knew where Harry had spent the majority of his last two years of life at Hogwarts.

"Who exactly is anyone?" James scoffed in disgust. "It's not like they have any friends."

Harry just sighed, not really wanting to indulge them and explain that the Dursleys were very neighbourly people, often boasting loudly about the goings on of their life. He didn't quite know what the neighbourhood thought he'd been doing the past two years at school, but he knew without a doubt the Dursleys hadn't been saying it in a good way.

All the Dursleys could get away with now was to take Harry's magical means, including his wand, school books, and supplies and stow them away in the cupboard and forbid Harry from speaking to any of the neighbours.

This time they didn't actually try and cut Harry off, realizing he wasn't going to let them, so they quietly simmered and grouched about that line.

This could have been a real problem for Harry, as he had summer homework and knew one teacher in particular who would never take any excuse for him not doing it. Professor Snape would take any opportunity to give Harry a solid month's worth of detentions for any reason.

"I can see that," Lily agreed fairly, before any of the boys could get in a more biased opinion, "a teacher would have the right to scold you for not doing homework. Though admittedly," she continued even more loudly when James looked about to cutting her off, "I do wish you had explained why you wouldn't be able to do your homework."

Harry just shrugged, knowing that Snape wouldn't have cared no matter what, and never having bothered with the other teachers either.

Harry had outsmarted them though, biding his time and found an opportunity the first week of holidays. Vernon had received a new car and had brought Petunia and Dudley out front to have a look at it, boasting loudly enough that surely the neighbours heard as well.

Remus muttered something under his breath that caused Sirius to release a bark-like laughter, causing James to scowl at them mostly because he wasn't in on the joke.

Harry had taken his chance and gone to the cupboard, picking the lock,

"Glad to see Fred and George taught you that nifty little trick," James approved.

and stowing away a majority of his school things. So long as he left no evidence of it, the Dursleys need never know he was studying magic by night.

"That's my pup," Sirius grinned from ear to ear, "stick it to those bloody Muggles."

All four of them were beyond pleased Harry seemed more and more likely to stand up to that rubbish family of his and even doing small things like this boosted their moral of the ratty situation.

Harry was particularly keen on staying out of their crosshairs as of late, as they were in an especially bad mood with him,

"As opposed to?" Lily asked, genuinely curious.

"Just, a normal bad mood," Harry shrugged, unable to really explain that any other way.

"So, what did they blame you for doing?" James asked without really wanting to hear the answer.

Harry sighed, remembering quite well that this essay marked the time passing from when Ron had called him. He explained the whole fiasco, which both delighted and infuriated them all at the same time. Harry regretted having told them this though when he realized the book was about to explain it, so it's not like they could move past this.

all because he'd received a telephone call from a fellow wizard one week into the school vacation.

"At least he tried," James sighed.

It had been Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend from school, who came from a family of wizards. This unfortunately meant that he wasn't very skilled in using muggle objects, like phones, hence his confusion when Vernon answered the call, and heard Ron bellowing at the top of his lungs 'hello?'

"Wow," Lily muttered, rubbing at her ear, "when you said he shouted, you meant it."

"Guess next time, you should go into a bit more details with Arthur," Remus sighed.

Harry was looking down at the pages sadly, suddenly realizing that he had left out the part where Vernon had shouted at him for this mess, but had merely said this is what caused them to be extra mad at him. Now the book was possibly going to show something he didn't particularly want his family to hear... sighing in defeat he pressed on.

Harry had happened to be in the room at the time, and could clearly hear Ron's continued shouting that he wanted to talk to Harry. Vernon turned on Harry on the spot, fury prevalent.

Not even Lily felt pity for this horrid man, she joined in as they laughed just a bit cruelly at his ignorance of the situation.

Vernon roared right back, demanding to know who was speaking.

"Poor Ron," Sirius chuckled, "he probably doesn't even understand he's doing anything wrong, since that arse is responding in exactly the same way."

"Where did he even get a hold of a phone?" James suddenly asked. "That's not something he'd have around his house."

"I asked," Harry shrugged, "he said his Dad apparated him into town to use one."

"Wait, you could still write to him?" Remus asked eagerly, misunderstanding how Harry had asked, "So did you pick the lock on Hedwig's cage this summer?" Remembering all too well the

injustice done to that poor bird last summer.

"Actually," Harry fully grinned this time, and deciding against correcting his assumption; really he had asked on the train ride home last year. "I really was just allowed to let her out at night. Uncle- err," he corrected himself at once for the slip that he knew they all hated for addressing them as

any type of family, "Vernon hated the racket so much he said I could so long as the neighbours didn't see her."

"Probably the most decent thing they've done in their life," Lily beamed, taking this small victory.

"Even if it was for the most selfish of reasons," James agreed.

Ron called right back in the same tones, speaking as if from the opposite end of a football field,

Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image.

that he was a friend of Harry's from school. Vernon's hate filled eyes narrowed in on Harry, who had been trying to edge back to his room.

"Uh-oh," they all muttered, Harry had left the part out that he'd been in the room when this happened.

Vernon steamed back that no Harry Potter lived there, now holding the phone as far away

from his head as if it were a ticking bomb,

"I wish," James grumbled, enjoying that for a moment longer.

Continuing to shout that no one had better come near his family!

"He is a bloody paranoid one, isn't he?" Remus said in an almost conversational tone of voice, if his hands weren't white knuckled from what he was dearly trying not to picture that man doing to Harry in retaliation for this. "Honestly, one stupid phone call, and he thinks Ron's going to kill them all?"

"Wish he would," Sirius huffed, "actually I wish Arthur or Molly would really go over there sometime this summer, and take Harry with them, and then never come back."

"If only," Harry agreed, though he really did want to move on now, never letting himself think like this for too long, since it wouldn't ever come true.

Then he slammed the receiver down so hard it was in danger of breaking. The following fight was one of the worst ever in that house.

Lily released a pitiful moan at that description, not even wanting to think on what this could mean...

Vernon rampaging that how dare Harry give out the houses number, to people like him. Ron seemed to have realized that he'd gotten Harry into trouble, because he had yet to try again.

"Wait, wait, back up!" Sirius demanded. "Is that all he did? Shout at you."

"Yes," Harry said quickly...a little too quickly. They'd all had this moment before, where they genuinely wanted to question what exactly Harry was hiding about his home life there. It was

something, of that they were all sure by this point, but the last time they had tried to press on the matter further Harry had gotten very uptight about the matter and had refused to speak on it, saying it wasn't important.

There were several options, none of them good, that would cause him to do this. They wanted desperately to know, but feared if they forced Harry to tell without making one hundred percent

sure he trusted them first, it could break the rather tentative hold they had on said trust. So they didn't question the obvious lie, and waited patiently for Harry to divulge the information willingly, well as patiently as any of them really could be. They weren't subtle about giving Harry looks that said quite clearly 'liar.'

Harry ignored all this, now reading on as fast as possible.

Harry's other best friend from school, Hermione Granger, hadn't made contact either. Harry had the suspicion that Ron may have sent her a warning against doing so, which Harry regretted as she did come from a muggle family and would have known perfectly well how to not only use the phone, but had enough sense not to speak of their school.

"Now that I'm not sure of," Lily disagreed, "since I can assume I'm right in saying you've never told your friends about how you're treated there. So Hermione wouldn't have found it odd at all to mention she knew you from school."

Harry just shrugged, muttering, "yeah, guess so," before quickly pressing on, they all noted Harry didn't exactly answer the first part of his mother's question.

So Harry had no word from any of his wizarding friends for five long weeks,

"Wait, what?" Remus snapped. "I thought you said Hedwig was allowed out? Why on earth aren't you sending them mail?"

"I said I wouldn't," Harry said like he thought it was obvious, rather annoyed he really couldn't just skip this part.

"Harry," James groaned, "this is one time you could have lied! Merlin, they wouldn't even know the difference."

Harry just shrugged again, which was all too common an occurrence whenever this type of thing was brought up. Usually the boy was more than willing to talk and interact with them, asking questions and demanding details, and always more than willing to say what went on around school where some of the deadliest things had happened to him. The fact that he was so closed up about this particular subject continued scaring them the longer this dragged on.

making the summer drag on as horribly as the last one. The one improvement on the situation was his owl, Hedwig. She'd finally been allowed out at night, after Harry promised not to let her send or receive mail.

They all clenched up and muttered a bit more, and were growing beyond frustrated at Harry's not letting them get a word in this time.

The only reason this had even been allowed was because of the racket she made when Vernon had caged her up last summer. Speaking of Hedwig, Harry rolled out from under his bed, eyes burning and putting away his homework for the night into a loose floorboard under his bed.

"Props for finding that," James grinned weakly, happy he had any reason to do so again. Merlin, were they only on the first chapter and he was already feeling like crap again?

Then he stood and glanced around his room, noting his owl's empty cage, before his eyes landed on the clock and he felt an odd jolt in him. The time now read one in the morning, meaning that Harry was now officially thirteen years old.

Then the four of them released pitiful sighs, knowing by now not to even ask about how this birthday was going to go, and only hoping it went at least a little better than last year...Merlin

almost anything would be better than last year!

Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward to his birthdays.

"Yeah, I've got nothing for that," James huffed in disgust, wishing with everything he owned he could fix that. His friends clearly couldn't do anything for Harry, even on this day in particular, so Harry's hatred for his birthday was both founded, and unarguable, plus just down right depressing.

"Congratulations Harry," Sirius said in a falsely bright voice, "we agree, you're unusual."

Harry really did laugh then, making them all feel just that little bit better.

He had never received a birthday card in his life.

Harry joined in on their wince of pain this time, not really appreciating that little reminder.

The Dursleys had made a practice of not even acknowledging the date, and Harry had no suspicions that this would change. His eyes again landed on Hedwig's empty cage. She'd been gone for some time now, but Harry wasn't exactly worried, she'd been gone longer. He was just hoping she would come back soon, as she was the only living thing in this area who didn't flinch at the sight of him.

"I can see how you would find that depressing," James sighed.

Harry then glanced in a mirror and reflected on his own physical appearance, thinking how he was still rather slight for his age with wild black hair, green eyes behind the glasses, and a lightning shaped scar. This scar just so happened to be the most unusual thing about Harry yet.

"Fair point on that," Remus agreed, "so you were right twice over now."

Harry just smiled weakly this time, knowing they weren't about to appreciate his remembering of how he got this scar, so hoping to get past this part quickly he speed read.

Harry had not received it in the lie the Dursleys had told him, that Lily and James Potter had died in a car crash.

'Pig's tail' Lily comforted herself when she made to start screaming all over again because of that lie 'just remember, they did get their due.'

They had been murdered,

James winced, and he probably always would whenever he was forced to hear that sentence. It didn't matter how many times it appeared, it would never not be weird, and heart-breaking.

by Lord Voldemort, the most evil wizard to ever have existed. He had sought out Harry's line and dispersed of his parents, but when he'd turned his wand on then one year old Harry, it had backfired, causing Voldemort to disappear that same night, and leaving Harry with fame. Sadly Voldemort was not gone for good, as Harry had now come face to face with him twice, and all things considering, he felt rather grateful to have reached another birthday at all.

There were several times many of them made to interrupt during that summarization of his last thirteen years of life, but it wasn't anything he hadn't heard already, and it was depressing enough to think about in his spare time. He didn't want his family to be sitting around thinking about it anymore than he had to.

Harry wandered over to the window and leaned out, letting the night air blow against his face as his mind continued to travel, until his eyes caught sight of an odd something heading for him.

"Crap," they all muttered at once, thinking 'it wasn't possible!' Harry was in a town full of Muggles, nothing too dangerous could be happening to him...right?

He froze for a moment, hand on the window and prepared to slam it shut,

"Glad you at least had that sense," Lily said uneasily.

before he recognized the shape as it passed below a street lamp and Harry lept aside.

"What was it?" Remus asked, mixtures of eagerness and fear still lingering.

Harry chuckled when he told them, making Lily say, "aw, the poor thing," while the boys laughed at the scene Harry described.

Through the window came three owls, two supporting the middle one creating such an odd shape. The middle bird was half unconscious, and they all landed on Harry's bed with a whump.

"He's not really dead, is he?" Lily noted with worry even though she knew Harry would read that with more concern if the bird was harmed.

There was something tied to all three of their legs, and Harry recognized the middle owl that was currently passed out as Errol, the Weasley's family owl.

"Oh, hey!" James yelped, grinning with glee now. "So this means Ron did send you something! Ha, can't imagine why he hasn't done it before now."

"He knew he'd gotten me in trouble," Harry reminded.

"Yes," Sirius waved his hand, trying to avoid screaming about that 'trouble' all over again, "but that was because of the phone. Why wouldn't he have sent you mail again?"

Harry just sighed, he understood Ron's reasons, but he didn't know how to explain it to them.

"It's a good thing you were awake for this anyway," Lily said, going back to the original point of this, "because that would have been odd to wake up for."

Harry ran forward and quickly unloaded the owl, setting its package aside and instead carrying the bird over to Hedwig's cage so that he could get a drink.

Lily beamed with unsuppressed glee, happy to see Harry taking the time to help out this owl rather than go right to his mail.

Harry then turned his attention to the other two owls, the white one being his own Hedwig, but the last unfamiliar in colour though what it was carrying was clearly a marked package with the Hogwarts crest.

"Nice," Sirius grinned, "so you got your Hogwarts letter on top of everything else today, and," he continued almost bouncing with glee, "that'll contain your Hogsmeade letter?"

For just a moment, Harry went as bright-eyed as Sirius. He'd heard all about Hogsmeade from the older students, and he was as keen to go as anyone, then that smile trickled right off his face when he realized who he was going to have to ask to sign it. They all noted his changing expression at once, and sadly didn't have to ask what it was about.

They all dearly wanted to sit around and make threats that those useless Dursleys had better sign Harry's form, but recognized it would only make Harry feel worse the longer they leaned on the subject, so they just desperately hoped Harry found a way to convince them.

Harry untied his parcel as well, and the school owl departed again at once, leaving Harry to look after his own pet curiously and remove a parcel from her leg as well. Turning back to Errol's package first, he tore apart the paper to find a birthday card slipping out and a present still wrapped.

Harry couldn't help it, his voice spiked with emotion as well, feeling a little silly something so small would mean so much to him, but not any kind of ashamed the people in the room all looked as if it was their own birthday as well. Surely, since they seemed just as happy if not more than him about this, it wasn't silly at all.

He found a newspaper clipping as well, the title of which declaring who had won a Ministry Employee Scoop Grand Prize; Arthur Weasley.

"Sweet," Lily grinned, "no one deserves that as much as them!"

"Best thing that could have happened to them," James agreed.

The article then described Ron's dad's position in the ministry, and how the family were currently using the money to spend the holidays in Egypt, and would return shortly so that five of their kids could go back to school at Hogwarts in the fall. The accompanying picture showed the nine Weasleys.

Harry at once began wondering why this photo felt significant. Why would it mean anything to him, except a nice reminder of his favourite family (outside of his own right now.) He brushed past it, wondering if he was really losing it.

The picture detailed each of the siblings that Harry recognized, including Ron with his pet rat Scabbers sitting on his shoulder, both of his parents, all of his elder brothers, and his only younger sister Ginny.

"Wish I could see that picture," Sirius chuckled, "must be funny to see them all squeezed in so tight for the camera."

Harry gave a little start and gave Sirius quite a look, one the others didn't even know how to describe. It wasn't truly recognition, but Harry knew this sentence was important to him... it was gone. He just shrugged, not really letting himself think about it too much since it was probably nothing.

Harry was more than pleased to hear of this news, knowing that no family deserved the pile of gold more.

"Hey, you said there were nine of them in the picture," Remus pouted, "how come you didn't finally describe the mysterious Charlie and Bill Weasley."

"Cause the picture wasn't that good," Harry shrugged, "just an old black and white one, and I could pick out two I didn't recognize. I'm sure I meet them eventually," he finished with

conviction.

Harry then turned his attention to the written note attached in Ron's handwriting, beginning with a birthday greeting for Harry, and going on to apologize for clearly getting Harry into trouble. He'd asked his Dad, who had suggested maybe he shouldn't have shouted.

Sirius couldn't help but release a surprised snort of laughter, while James said, "a fair thing to think, if you'd never worked one before and didn't know."

Then he described his time there in Egypt, but did promise that they'd have enough left over for him to get a new wand before he went back to school.

"Thank Merlin," Lily chuckled.

"I don't know, I agree with Harry," Remus laughed, "it did come in handy there at the end."

"Yes well, it was gone now, so we couldn't have kept it anyways," Harry reminded, still grinning.

Harry remembered all to vividly how Ron's wand had exploded at the end of last year, after having spent the whole of the year nearly being snapped in half when their flying car had crashed into a tree.

"Just thinking about that sentence without knowing the background of it," Sirius cackled, "makes it even more priceless!"

"So, I forgot to ask," Lily said, having to speak a bit louder than usual over Sirius for Harry to hear her, "did you ever tell anyone about the car? Or is it still in the Forest?"

"I told Dumbledore and McGonagall how we got away from the spiders," Harry admitted, "but as far as I know, no one went in and got it out. It's still in there."

"Where I hope it stays," James grinned.

Ron then informed that they would be back in time to get some stuff in London the last week of holiday, and if Harry had a chance of meeting them there?

"That brings up a good point I hadn't thought of," Lily said, frowning once again as she asked, "how are you going to get your school supplies this year? There's no way they're going to drive

you up to London, and even if they did I certainly don't want them knowing about your Gringotts Vault."

Harry just shrugged, saying honestly, "can't remember exactly, but I wouldn't worry about it too much. I'm sure when Ron gets back from Egypt, I can go stay round his place again, and someone there would have made sure I'd gone." Harry frowned as he finished saying this, feeling how wrong those words were. He got his school supplies, no the part that was bothering him was in saying he stayed with Ron. He had a very bad feeling all of a sudden, like something had happened at the Dursleys... the thought was gone. Even now as he decided not to push it, he could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache returning even as he thought to try, so with nothing else for it he read.

Ron began to finish off by telling Harry not to let the Muggles get him down,

All four of them scowled heavily, wondering just how much Harry had told his friends about how that lot treated him. Just like with any other time though, whenever they asked Harry about it, he remained suspiciously closed up.

and hoped to see him soon. Then he added a P.S., pointing out that Percy was now Head Boy.

"Oh, this ought to be great," Sirius muttered sourly, as if that boy wasn't big-headed enough already, no now he was given even more responsibility.

Harry turned to the added on parcel now and unwrapped it to find a mini glass spinning top.

"Nice, it's a Sneakoscope," James said eagerly, finding this a rather fun toy when he was a kid.

"A bit useless around school, what with so much untrustworthy students hanging around," Remus chuckled, "but fun all the same."

Harry dearly wanted to ask what it was, or what it did, but hoping Ron might explain he instead read.

Harry read the attached letter, which was from Ron explaining that he'd given Harry a Sneakoscope which was used to detect people who were untrustworthy. Ron didn't put too much stock in it,

"Nonsense," Sirius scoffed, "they're plenty useful."

because even as he'd been sending it, it had been going off. Though that could have been because Fred and George had been putting beetles in someone's soup.

"That'll do it," Lily chuckled, "those twins are as untrustworthy as it comes."

"Well that's a bit harsh," James grinned without any real heat, knowing she didn't mean it. "I like them, they're good for a laugh."

"Which explains why I don't trust them," Lily smiled indulgently at him and all the other boys who were chuckling at their joshing.

Harry carefully placed his top down, watching it balance and stay still in the dim lighting.

'I don't know' Remus thought, frowning suddenly 'I don't trust any of those Dursleys as far as I can throw them, so I really wouldn't have been too surprised if it had gone off then.' It hadn't though, so he just ignored it for now.

Harry then turned happily to his other present, the one Hedwig had come with, which turned out to be from Hermione.

"Aw," Lily cooed, "Hedwig went out to find Hermione, that is so sweet! I love your owl."

Harry nodded in fervent agreement.

Her letter began by saying that she had indeed heard from Ron about that phone call, and hoped he was alright.

"About as alright as he ever is there," James muttered bitterly.

Harry sighed, wishing desperately the book would quite mentioning this now.

She was on vacation out in France and had wanted to send Harry something, but hadn't known how, what if they'd open it through customs?

"Which is another reason we invented our own postal system," Sirius chuckled.

Then Hedwig had arrived and Hermione was able to send her present which she'd ordered via owl-order, through the daily prophet.

"Why haven't you subscribed to that yet?" James asked curiously.

"Hadn't quite found it relevant enough yet," Harry shrugged, "reading the paper just didn't interest me."

Hermione then went on to say that she was learning a lot over here, but was slightly jealous that Ron was in Egypt learning about their ancient customs.

"Oh yes," Remus nodded, trying his hardest to sound serious as he continued. "I am so sure learning's exactly what's on Ron's mind as he goes around those pyramids," he couldn't hold the

expression much longer as he burst into laughter.

Hermione had learned so much that she'd rewritten their history of magic essay, which was now two rolls of parchment more then asked for.

All four boys gawked at this, while Lily simply smirked and shrugged, completely unsurprised by this.

Hermione finished by saying she was going to be back in London at the same time as Ron, and hoped to see Harry then. She also added a P.S. commenting on Percy's Head Boyship, and how unpleased Ron seemed about it.

They all chuckled, glad to see Hermione still had her sense of humour.

Harry laughed as he turned his attention on her wrapped gift, feeling how heavy it was, and imagining it to be a complicated book of advanced spells.

James and Sirius frowned at the thought, but Lily and Remus scoffed, as Remus said, "I doubt that. Hermione might be bad around exam time, but she's hardly pressured either of you to be

studying more. No, I'm sure Hermione got you something she thought you'd really like."

Harry looked very eager and curious now as he read.

It was the opposite. When Harry unwrapped it he found a Broomstick Servicing Kit inside.

"Nice," all five of them praised, Remus giving his two friends rather superior looks.

"Alright Moony," Sirius scoffed, "knock off that, so you were right, again."

Harry chuckled affectionately as Remus' look only increased.

Inside were several objects all geared towards maintaining and keeping up a broom. Apart from his friends, one thing Harry missed the very most about Hogwarts was playing on his house Quidditch team.

"Can't blame you there," Sirius agreed with a groan, it had been ages since he'd been out flying, let alone played a game.

Harry happened to own a very good racing broom, a Nimbus Two Thousand, which was one of his most prized possessions.

"One of?" James questioned, a teasing smirk lighting his features.

Harry smirked and said, "yes, one of. I'm sure you can guess the other."

Sirius and Remus both snorted in appreciation at James rather put out look, he had been hoping Harry would correct him and say that his invisibility cloak was his most treasured object, and here his own son was, obviously teasing him and purposely saying the exact opposite.

Harry carefully placed this present aside and picked up his last bit of mail, which he recognized as being from Hagrid.

"Oh, so Hagrid sent you a letter along with your Hogwarts' stuff," Lily beamed, "wonder what he's been up to this summer."

Harry had only begun to unwrap the present however, and caught the hints of a book cover, when the object began to move, and snapped at him.

"Snapped?" Remus yelped, fear coming back at once. "What on earth could Hagrid have sent you that snap's?"

Harry was frowning, trying his best to describe what he had only gotten a glimpse of, but he wasn't doing a good job, so he turned back to the book in hopes for a better description.

Harry froze, knowing from first-hand experience that Hagrid didn't always have a good gage when it came to dangerous things.

Sirius released a weak chuckle, no one was going to argue Harry on that point.

The gamekeeper had been known to befriend giant spiders and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his home,

"And that's just the tip of it all," James muttered.

so Harry's caution now was quite warranted. He gingerly began unwrapping the rest of the parcel, now clutching his lamp as a defence should he need it, and out fell a book.

"A book?" Lily repeated faintly.

"A biting book?" James probed, looking like he was sure Harry was messing with him this time.

Now knowing the book in his hands was going to properly explain he read on curiously.

Harry only just made out the title The Monster Book of Monsters, before the book rolled itself right off of the bed, landing with a thunk, and beginning to scuttle around on its cover like some odd crab.

Sirius released a low, throaty whistle as he said, "damn, points for originality anyway. A book about monsters, that's kind of a monster itself."

"Guess it's no weirder than the invisibility books on invisibility," James agreed, still frowning at the odd little thing, and unable to stop himself from wondering why Hagrid would have sent that to Harry.

Harry tensed up at once, fearing that any noise made would draw unwanted attention. Harry tried to creep after the object, being as quiet as possible,

"But this would have been such a sight to walk in on," Remus muttered, "a book attacking them." Still hoping right along with Harry that the momentary humour it would have provided at the

Dursleys freaking out over this wasn't really going to happen, in favour of what they might do after the shock had worn off.

Harry reached out to pick up the book again, when it snapped closed over his fingers and scuttled away.

"Must have been quite the sight," Sirius really did laugh this time, unable to help himself at the rather annoyed look on Harry's face that he was being bested by a book!

Harry scrambled after it, threw himself on top of it, managing to flatten it in place. From the room over, he heard Vernon give a cough.

Then all four of them winced, already sick of this constant enjoyment flashing to fear and anger every other paragraph, all because of the house he was in.

Hedwig and Errol watched with interest,

Even Lily couldn't stop herself from giggling at that image, it must have been quite a sight.

as Harry got to his feet while keeping the book clamped tight to his chest and staggered over to a drawer, drawing out a belt, and clamping the book firmly shut. The book shuddered in clear anger, but was no longer able to go anywhere as Harry sagged back onto the bed and found Hagrid's accompanying note and read first a birthday greeting, then a cryptic comment saying that Harry may need this for his next year.

"That's right," James suddenly brightened, "Harry's taking Care of Magical Creatures this year! Hagrid might have sent that to him, for a jump start on the class."

"Well that was nice," Lily sighed, "though I'd much rather he'd just sent him whatever the school says."

Hagrid didn't put any further information in the note, saying he'd explain more when he saw him.

"Tell you what?" Sirius asked in confusion.

"Why on earth would any of us know," Harry pointed out, grinning over at him. Sirius shrugged, smirking right back.

Then Hagrid signed off his letter, and Harry instead went to his very last piece of mail from school, which contained its normal Hogwarts school list, plus an extra note this year explaining all about Hogsmeade and how he'd have to get a signed permission form to enter. Harry's enthusiasm wasn't very high when he realized who he was going to have to ask to sign it.

They all sighed, that old pang returning with a vengeance. Harry shouldn't have had to worry about asking permission for this, it should have been as simple as him going to see his parents and

having a nice conversation about all the shops available. This horrid reminder that he couldn't do this hurt worse every time they thought about it.

Harry glanced over at his clock again and found two hours had passed, and itching with sleep, decided to worry about it in the morning. Leaning up to a chart above his bed, Harry crossed off another day passed until September first arrived and he could return to Hogwarts.

"I did that all the time," Sirius nodded in agreement, "it helps the wait not seem as long."

Harry shared another smile with Sirius, oddly happy they had such a random thing in common.

Then he took off his glasses and fell asleep facing his birthday cards. Though Harry considered himself an unusual person, for the first time in his life, he was happy it was his birthday.

"Well that was a depressing end," Remus said in a forced chipper voice as he leaned over to take the book.

"And it's only going to get worse," Harry muttered, now knowing that vague feeling from before was growing stronger inside. Something really awful happened on this birthday, which was

saying something when compared to his other birthdays.

HPHPHPHP

Because someone asked, and it's a very good question, no there will not be anyone else joining the reading series. I did seriously consider adding Hermione and Ron sometime during the fourth book, but I'm still enjoying my idea that they don't really know what's going on. If any other people did join from the future, then they would ruin all sorts of stuff like Sirius, and Dumbledore, and countless other death's I'm still going to enjoy being a surprise. I could erase their memory, but it's the same reason I'm not going to be adding anyone from this timeline. If I have any other characters from their own time join, like say Molly and Arthur, then I would have to constantly deal with go back and read the book themselves, or 'we'll explain later' and just yeah not worth it. The five that are there are what you guys got.

P.s. If there are any book mistakes you'd like me to explain feel free to ask, and I will try and go back and fix them. Geeze this chapter's almost as much my talking as the characters.

[ginmo]

Do you think JB will end together? Like, marrying and maybe even having kids? I know it’s a lot to hope in asoiaf universe, but I so wish they would!

GRRM is aiming for a bittersweet ending. There’s even a quote from him saying that he already knows who’s going to marry who. 

“I know the broad strokes, and I’ve known the broad strokes since 1991. I know who’s going to be on the Iron Throne. I know who’s gonna win some of the battles, I know the major characters, who’s gonna die and how they’re gonna die, and who’s gonna get married and all that. The major characters.” [x]

He clarified that “major characters” includes the main Lannisters. This was said in 2016, after his last asoiaf book, which means marriage is for future books. It could literally be any pairing for one of the major characters, or multiple pairings. My point is, there will be at least one marriage for the major characters that didn’t happen on the show. Personally? I think there’s going to be a couple, and whether or not Jaime and/or Brienne dies by the end, they’ll still be one of them. This is going to be kinda long…..

Brienne - Marriage 

Brienne was introduced to us on an unrequited love plot line.

Brienne was on her feet as well. “Your Grace, give me but a moment to don my mail. You should not be without protection.” King Renly smiled. “If I am not safe in the heart of Lord Caswell’s castle, with my own host around me, one sword will make no matter … not even your sword, Brienne. Sit and eat. If I have need of you, I’ll send for you.” His words seemed to strike the girl harder than any blow she had taken that afternoon. “As you will, Your Grace.” Brienne sat, eyes downcast.- ACOK

Brienne dropped to her knees. “If I must part from Your Grace, grant me the honor of arming you for battle.” Catelyn heard someone snigger behind her. She loves him, poor thing, she thought sadly. She’d play his squire just to touch him, and never care how great a fool they think her. - ACOK

And what’s emphasized in her first PoV?

Renly Baratheon had been more than a king to her. She had loved him since first he came to Tarth on his leisurely lord’s progress, to mark his coming of age. - AFFC

Reciprocated love is her arc. The first time we meet her she’s described as crushing hard on Renly Baratheon, and it’s during the melee at Bitterbridge. The melee is brought up again in AFFC, during one of Brienne’s PoV chapters.

In the mělée at Bitterbridge she had sought out her suitors and battered them one by one, Farrow and Ambrose and Bushy, Mark Mullendore and Raymond Nayland and Will the Stork. She had ridden over Harry Sawyer and broken Robin Potter’s helm, giving him a nasty scar. And when the last of them had fallen, the Mother had delivered Connington to her. This time Ser Ronnet held a sword and not a rose. Every blow she dealt him was sweeter than a kiss.

Loras Tyrell had been the last to face her wroth that day. He’d never courted her, had hardly looked at her at all, but he bore three golden roses on his shield that day, and Brienne hated roses. The sight of them had given her a furious strength. She went to sleep dreaming of the fight they’d had, and of Ser Jaime fastening a rainbow cloak about her shoulders.- AFFC

Let’s look at the structure. The paragraph before Brienne falls asleep is setting up the context for the dream. Paragraph #1 is specifically referencing the men who participated in the bet as her suitors, thus connecting the mělée to an element of her dark, romantic history as Brienne knocks every asshole into the dirt with blows sweeter than a kiss.

Paragraph #2, still connected to the romance theme of paragraph #1, transitions into Brienne falling asleep and dreaming of her last fight with Loras. She then gets cloaked.

Keep in mind that in a wedding ceremony, the groom places a cloak of his house colors around the bride’s shoulders. Now, knowing a professional author is writing this, and there’s a romance theme established in paragraph #1 with the term suitors, and if we’re continuing the theme, in her dream the KG cloaking is symbolic of a wedding ceremony.

Unlike the show’s garbage interpretation of Brienne, her life-long dream has never been about becoming a member some kingsguard (also note, knight and kingsguard are not synonymous. You can become a knight without swearing your life away to a KG). This is why she joined Renly’s:

Renly Baratheon had been more than a king to her. She had loved him since first he came to Tarth on his leisurely lord’s progress, to mark his coming of age. Her father welcomed him with a feast and commanded her to attend; elsewise she would have hidden in her room like some wounded beast. She had been no older than Sansa, more afraid of sniggers than of swords. They will know about the rose, she told Lord Selwyn, they will laugh at me. But the Evenstar would not relent.

And Renly Baratheon had shown her every courtesy, as if she were a proper maid, and pretty. He even danced with her, and in his arms she’d felt and her feet had floated across the floor. Later others begged a dance of her, because of his example. From that day forth, she wanted only to be close to Lord Renly, to serve him and protect him. - AFFC

She literally fell in love with him because he treated her, “as if she were a proper maid, and pretty.” BTW, this is introduced in her first PoV, emphasizing the romance theme to her arc.

Feeling too ugly and unworthy to be a lady, and after three failed betrothals and Brienne crying “bitter tears” over Margaery marrying her king, she left Tarth and pledged her life to Renly in the form of becoming a member of his KG (hmmm joining the kingsguard to be close to someone she loves? Sounds like someone else!). Feeling like a failure as a lady and heir, she played to her more masculine traits and married Renly in the only way she could.

The KG being a form of marriage to her is shown in the dream passage as well, by how after knocking her “suitors” into the dust, she becomes a member of Renly’s KG and essentially marries him. All the suitors are disposed of, but in the end, she allows one man to cloak her.

But… in her dream, the person is no longer Renly LOL. It may be his cloak, but it’s not his face. WHO IS CLOAKING HER? Jaime fucking Lannister.

And guess what? Jaime replaces HER BETROTHED in another dream.

Finally the doors opened, and her betrothed strode into her father’s hall. She tried to greet him as she had been instructed, only to have blood come pouring from her mouth. She had bitten her tongue off as she waited. She spat it at the young knight’s feet, and saw the disgust on his face. “Brienne the Beauty,” he said in a mocking tone.

“I have seen sows more beautiful than you.” He tossed the rose in her face. As he walked away, the griffins on his cloak rippled and blurred and changed to lions. Jaime! she wanted to cry. Jaime, come back for me! But her tongue lay on the floor by the rose, drowned in blood. -AFFC

This is romantic rejection from an actual event that happened to her, and Brienne is unable to stop her betrothed (who turned into Jaime in the dream) from walking away, but GRRM LITERALLY SAID HIS INTENT WAS BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, and since we were introduced to her on an unrequited love plot, with love always being a cruel joke to her, with romantic rejection and how she’s been so unworthy and undesirable as a lover smacking us in the face, RECIPROCATED LOVE IS HER ARC.

And it isn’t just love that’s part of her arc, it’s also MARRIAGE, because it has been connected to marriage.

Brienne - Motherhood

Brienne has a lot of motherly qualities in the books and has also never rejected the idea of being a mother. At one point, she daydreams about her first betrothed and wondered what her life would have been like if he survived childhood.

Had he lived, they would have been wed within a year of her first flowering, and her whole life would have been different. She would not be here now, dressed in man’s mail and carrying a sword, hunting for a dead woman’s child. More like she’d be at Nightsong, swaddling a child of her own and nursing another. It was not a new thought for Brienne. It always made her feel a little sad, but a little relieved as well. - AFFC

Yes, a part of her was relieved. I mean… duh haha. Who wouldn’t be? She was going to marry a stranger, she most likely would have been treated like dirt, she would have been young, and everything about her life would have been different. The point is, the thought still made her sad. If there wasn’t any part of her that desired marriage and motherhood, she would have only felt relief, and, well, “it was not a new thought” for her.

Keep in mind, Brienne thinks she’ll only ever be a fighter because, even though her book personality is very nurturing and motherly, she believes she’s physically unfit to be a lady and mother

“I will tell you true, Brienne. I do not know. My son may be a king, but I am no queen … only a mother who would keep her children safe, however she could.” 

“I am not made to be a mother. I need to fight.” - ACOK

The next bit I wouldn’t really say this is motherhood foreshadowing, but I do still find it interesting that GRRM wanted Catelyn to have a little motherhood discussion with Brienne, when she could have spoken about it to any other character.

“Children are a battle of a different sort.” Catelyn started across the yard. “A battle without banners or warhorns, but no less fierce. Carrying a child, bringing it into the world … your mother will have told you of the pain …” 

“I never knew my mother,” Brienne said. “My father had ladies … a different lady every year, but …”

“Those were no ladies,” Catelyn said. “As hard as birth can be, Brienne, what comes after is even harder. At times I feel as though I am being torn apart. Would that there were five of me, one for each child, so I might keep them all safe.” - ACOK

This next one…

Can it be? Somewhere inside our swordswench is a mother just squirming to give birth. What you really want is a sweet pink babe to suckle at your teat. - AFFC

I mean, it’s Hyle being an ass lol, but I’m not going to ignore the fact an author decided to put that in there, and it’s not the first time the autor connected Brienne to motherhood. 

Also…

“A daughter.” Brienne’s eyes filled with tears. “He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. Galladon drowned when I was four and he was eight, though, and Alysanne and Arianne died still in the cradle. I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son *or* daughter.” - AFFC

She IS fit to be both! That’s the point! She bitterly thinks that, due to her insecurities. Brienne’s arc: lady, wife, mother, warrior/knight, heir. Her character exists to embrace the outwardly masculine and inwardly feminine traits, becoming it all and redefining what it means to be a lady and woman in that society. 

Jaime - Marriage and Fatherhood

The narrative purpose of Barristan Selmy being released from the KG is to show that it’s possible for members to be dismissed. “A kingsguard serves for life” is mentioned THREE TIMES in ASOS, about Jaime.

“I can,” he interrupted. “And I will. There’s precedent. I’ll look in the White Book and find it, if you like. Crippled or whole, a knight of the Kingsguard serves for life.” - ASOS

“Tywin regarded Jaime as his rightful heir.”

“*Jaime* … Jaime has taken vows. The Kingsguard serve for life.” - ASOS

“I am a knight of the Kingsguard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard! And that’s all I mean to be!” - ASOS

I think it’s safe to assume he’s going to be removed from the KG at some point in the books (I suspected for years that Jaime would be released from the KG, so when it happened on the show… well, my thoughts on the show: here). The narrative purpose of releasing Jaime from the KG is to release him from vows, to free him up for marriage and be heir. That’s literally why Tywin wanted him to leave the KG in the first place.

Have some bitter Jaime thoughts.

That was the first time that Jaime understood. It was not his skill with sword and lance that had won him his white cloak, nor any feats of valor he’d performed against the Kingswood Brotherhood. Aerys had chosen him to spite his father, to rob Lord Tywin of his heir.

Even now, all these years later, the thought was bitter. And that day, as he’d ridden south in his new white cloak to guard an empty castle, it had been almost too much to stomach. He would have ripped the cloak off then and there if he could have, but it was too late. He had said the words whilst half the realm looked on, and a Kingsguard served for life. 

Part of Jaime’s arc is to step into that role of heir. He did something stupid and out of love in his youth, and now he’s rediscovering his identity.

As for becoming a father…

Perhaps he was the monster they claimed. If the Father Above came down to offer him back his son or his hand, Jaime knew which he would choose. He had a second son, after all, and seed enough for many more. If Cersei wants another child I’ll give her one … and this time I’ll hold him, and the Others take those who do not like it. Robert was rotting in his grave, and Jaime was sick of lies. 

He turned abruptly and galloped back to find Brienne. Gods know why I bother. She is the least companionable creature I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. -ASOS

Okay okay look at this. There’s a couple of things to unpack here. 

Jaime never cared for Joffrey. That’s not a secret. If he were to make a decision about choosing joffrey and his hand, it’s implied he’d choose his hand. But then he justifies this by basically saying, “because he was rotten and I have another son anyway and I can always have more children” which shows that the idea of being a father is actually something of value to him. He ACTUALLY WANTS TO FATHER- “this time I’ll hold him.” Which to me is saying that fatherhood is part of his arc, because why else would that development be thrown in there? Sure, it can be there to show he’s maturing as a character and is desiring to be a responsible parent to Tommen, but then what’s the point of throwing in the detail about MAKING MORE children? Wanting to raise them FROM BIRTH this time? And, looking at structure, notice the transition from that paragraph to the next? 

Jaime was sick of lies.

He turned abruptly and galloped back to find Brienne. Gods know why I bother.

LMFAO

WHAT

Jaime thinking about producing future children and how he wants to raise his next child -> Jaime is SICK OF LIES (this is before “He’s lied to you a thousand times, and so have I” And before he finds out about the affairs btw LOL just wait Jaime you’ll be extra fed up) -> WHERE’S BRIENNE? WAIT, GODS, WHY AM I DOING THIS? THIS ISN’T FORESHADOWING SHE’S MY FUTURE OR ANYTHING 

GRRM as the Gods, knowing why he bothers

In AFFC, GRRM still explores this fatherhood desire, even without Cersei.

Once he found the Blackfish, he would be free to return to King’s Landing, where he belonged. My place is with my king. With my son. Would Tommen want to know that? The truth could cost the boy his throne. Would you sooner have a father or a chair, lad? Jaime wished he knew the answer. He does like stamping papers with his seal. The boy might not even believe him, to be sure. Cersei would say it was a lie. My sweet sister, the deceiver. He would need to find some way to winkle Tommen from her clutches before the boy became another Joffrey. And whilst at that, he should find the lad a new small council too. If Cersei can be put aside, Ser Kevan may agree to serve as Tommen’s Hand. - AFFC

And FOR ONE OF MY FAVORITES

Unbidden, his thoughts went to Brienne of Tarth. Stupid stubborn ugly wench. He wondered where she was. Father, give her strength. Almost a prayer … but was it the god he was invoking, the Father Above whose towering gilded likeness glimmered in the candlelight across the sept? Or was he praying to the corpse that lay before him? Does it matter? They never listened, either one. The Warrior had been Jaime’s god since he was old enough to hold a sword. Other men might be fathers, sons, husbands, but never Jaime Lannister, whose sword was as golden as his hair. He was a warrior, and that was all he would ever be. - AFFC

Jaime’s thoughts, unbidden, go to Brienne when he’s thinking of his men getting women pregnant BTW LOL, and this passage SCREAMS the fatherhood theme.

After thinking of women getting pregnant he PRAYS TO THE FATHER FOR BRIENNE. Whether it’s the god or his own father doesn’t matter. The point is, he’s making a connection to Father while praying to keep Brienne safe. And then he thinks about how the Warrior was always his god and, “other men might be fathers, sons, husbands, but never Jaime Lannister, whose sword was as golden as his hair.” WHY?! Why is that bit in there? In the same paragraph? And then end with a sentence that sounds BITTER AF about how he’ll only ever be a warrior? why the fuck did it just jump from Jaime thinking about Brienne, to praying to the father and then “LOL BUT THE WARRIOR let’s randomly talk about my identity”….?? It’s literally completely irrelevant? Unless…the author is connecting Jaime to THE FATHER for him to begin identifying with A DIFFERENT GOD because THAT’S HIS FUTURE and he’s hinting that BRIENNE IS THE ONE TO GIVE HIM THAT WHICH IS WHY HE NEEDS HER SAFE. (And of course Jaime isn’t consciously making these connections, I’m talking about the author’s foreshadowing decisions)

AGAIN

and this time I’ll hold him, and the Others take those who do not like it. Robert was rotting in his grave, and Jaime was sick of lies.

He turned abruptly and galloped back to find Brienne. Gods know why I bother.

And last but not least, the weirdest argument:

“Okay but if Brienne marries Jaime she’d be a lady and he’d make her be something she isn’t.” 

This has always been a really funny argument and my favorite response to this is, “Jaime didn’t give her a valyrian steel sword to make a sandwich with it.” 

Anyway, GRRM once said Brienne is Sansa with a sword. As mentioned above, Brienne never rejected her title as a lady as she does on the show. Book!Brienne ran away because she felt too ugly to be a proper lady. Her insecurities and the mockery she endured caused her to shy away from anything outwardly feminine.

Keeping in mind that Jaime and Brienne are literally designed to be BatB, imo it’s not a coincidence that Jaime and Brienne only think they’ll ever be warriors.

THEY WON’T. 

They’re both going to finally experience genuine reciprocated love, fuck, get married, and maybe parent and if you strongly believe one of them has to die before the end of this then all of this will happen before that death I SAID WHAT I SAID. 

[ryqoshay]

TA Followup: RPG Night

Followup Post for Tri-Arame: RPG Night

Author’s Note Continued: I actually started writing this scene about halfway through writing Change Overnight, because I had I finally gotten around to reading Setsu and Ayu’s Bond stories in SIFAS. Then I got sidetracked a bit and have now finally made it back.

So, I suppose some of the promised character details are in order. This absolutely will get long, so it’s going to have to go under the cut.

First off, though I don’t bring up much detail in this scene, more may come into play if I write other scenes like this, this takes place in a world created by the DM with whom I’ve played the most over the years. All of the in-game characters, and many, many others came into being because what was supposed to be a two paragraph character bio for a character I was to play in one of their D&D games, turned into a two page story. Then twenty. Then two hundred... New characters. New towns. New spells. New artifacts. New classes. And much more.

And then I stopped. I honestly don’t even remember why, as it certainly was not for the lack of ideas or notes or outlines for new scenes or the like. But the characters and their many stories have been gathering digital dust on my drives ever since.

I still think about them often, though. Quotes in movies and anime and such regularly make me consider what character might say them and in what circumstance. My headcanons for NicoMaki were shaped in part by what I already had planned for RyqoYoza. The reverse applies as well, as I translated one of Ooshima Tomo’s works into something that would work for RyqoYoza.

And maybe writing this scene will inspire me to write more of my D&D story. Who knows. But enough of that, you’re probably here more to learn about the new characters than to read my ramblings. Well, I will apologize in advance, as I may end up rambling a bit about them. To more easily locate a given character, I will bold their name at the start of their entry.

Also, the mercenary guild, of which all of the characters below are members, is known as Ryqo’s Roughnecks. Yes, those Roughnecks, from Starship Troopers, because I loved that movie, that’s really the only reason. I already had Ricochet as a character, so Rico’s Roughnecks was a quick and easy choice for when I wanted to register a guild in City of Heroes.

Ryqoshay, real name Rebecca Bouteillevoix, is a young girl who took over a mercenary guild after her parents were killed. Her father was raising her to take over the guild after him anyway, but she ended up doing so a lot sooner than either would have liked.

Her original nickname growing up was Ricochet as she was always “bouncing off the walls” with her high energy and neigh eternal optimism. It was also a joke referencing a typically undesirable outcome for archery, which was a strong interest for her. Upon her parents’ death, she took the first letter of each of their names, Yuri and Quentin, and misspelled her existing nickname to create her mercenary call sign; she kept the pronunciation for those who might wonder.

She matured a bit with the weight of running a mercenary guild, but still maintains much of her high energy and enthusiasm of her younger years.

Were I ever to get around to commissioning a picture of her, I would likely describe her general appearance as manga-version Nico for her stature, hair color and hair style, but with Setsuna’s face and eye color. Her outfits generally consist of dark purple and white, as those are her favorite colors.

Yozakura, real name Hakume Yaiba, (given name first for the sake of consistency) was hired by Ryqo’s parents as a bodyguard. As part of the payment, she was to be trained by Yuri, Ryqo’s mother, in the ways of the assassin.

She is the type of girl who takes her duties extremely seriously, to the point that after Yuri was killed and obviously could no longer fulfill her end of the contract, she insisted on renegotiation so as to continue to protect Ryqo. There were probably other reasons affecting her judgement at the time, but she has loyally  remained by Ryqo’s side for years.

As for appearance, though younger than Ryqo, she is taller; think Maki and Nico. She wears her blonde hair long and takes pride in braiding it intricately and securing it with an ornate pin given to her by Ryqo years ago. Her standard ninja outfit is grey with pink highlights as they are her favorite colors. For covert operations where stealth and deniability are crucial, she would dye her hair and use the Shiftweave function of her clothes to change her outfit. She would also wear something to change her natural blue eyes to something different.

Nullsilver Luna, real name only known to a precious few, is a young elven girl adopted by the Bouteillevoix family and has thus taken the role of Ryqo’s younger sister, despite being decades older than her.

After one to many of her experiments exploded, causing too much collateral damage and injury, Luna was exiled from her ancestrial home and ended up wandering the human kingdoms for years. Upon adoption into the Bouteillevoix family, Quentin, the leader of the Roughnecks at the time, hired her to be their artificer.

Her inventions still occasionally blow up, but the Roughnecks have proven far more tolerant of this than the elves in her homeland. The fact that she can better weaponize the effect nowadays may play into things.

As for her appearance, as mentioned in the scene, her hair occasionally changed color, because reasons. Same for her eyes. She’s been exposed to so many wild magics and artifice through out her life that things are no longer normal for her, or stable. The only consistent part of her wardrobe is an oversized white coat with multiple pockets that she has effectively turned into a bag of holding. She cares little for color or style and will thus wear whatever else is handy.

Also, her personality is not all that unlike Rina, so it was an easy fit to chose her to be played by Rina.

Recipere, often shortened to Rx, real name Rachel Ira Xaviera is a cleric who joined the Roughnecks in hopes that working with them might regain her favor with her deity.

Rx is the sole survivor of a border town caught between two warring kingdoms. When one of the generals of one said kingdom found soldiers from his enemy being treated alongside his own, he ordered the town razed. She went on to gather others disillusioned with the war and proceeded to go on Roaring Rampage of Revenge (trope!) against the general. In doing so, she may have gone a bit overboard and lost her connection with her deity.

After some wandering, she came across a wounded Ryqo and Yoza who had just escaped the massacre that took the lives of Yuri and Quentin, and healed them with magics to which she had thought she had lost access. For reasons not entirely known to her, joining the Roughnecks has reinstated her standing with her deity and allowed her to be a cleric once again.

Rx wears her blonde hair short and neat, under a bandana or some other head covering. As her deity is that of the sun, she leans towards using yellow, gold and white in her outfits.

Lady Sanguine, real name Vivian Sexton, is a woman who was raised in a village of barbarians despite not belonging to any of their bloodlines. She is the child of the unlikely pairing of a healer and a necromancer, the former of whom gave her up to the village to keep her hidden and safe from the latter.

The traumatic experience of having to kill her fiance to protect the village from his betrayal caused something to split in her mind. Specifically, her bloodlust gained its own personality and voice within her mind and gave itself the name Sanguine. Sanguine is also responsible for Vivian’s barbarian rage.

Vivian left the village after the death of her fiance by her own hands and wandered for a while before coming across the Roughnecks. She joins the guild and earns the call sign Lady Sanguine because Ryqo thought it fit her. However, once Sanguine became known, most in the guild started using Vivian’s given name to reduce confusion over who was in charge at a given time.

Vivian has blood red hair and vivid green eyes. (yes, yes, totally original, I know.) As of version 3.5e, she wore blood red armor, but if I ever get around to translating her into 5e, that may change since the class now seems to get a bonus for forgoing armor.

So yeah, that’s about as short an intro as I can give for these women. I could easily write pages for each, but I started this whole post a bit later than intended and I’m rapidly running out of time to sleep. Anyway, thank you to anyone who’s actually read this far. But I should probably write at least a tiny bit about players and character assignments.

Yuu playing Ryqo was an easy choice. They’re both high energy cheerful genki girls. They both have dark hair that they keep in twintails, though Ryqo doesn’t dye her tips green. And as Ryqo is the leader of the guild and Yuu is the idol club president, that was yet another match.

Ayumu got Yoza as they are both childhood friends with their respective counterparts, Yuu and Ryqo. They do have a few personality differences, e.g. Yoza would probably be a better match with Maki, but she’s not playing this game. But they’re both diligent and loyal, so I think things will work out.

Rina was an easy fit for Luna. They’re both tinkerers with their world’s respective tech. They’re both emotionally challenged, so to speak, though I hadn’t considered emotively challenged for Luna; now I am.

With need of a tankier character for the group, I recruited Vivian and originally assigned her to Ai as I believed her energetic personality could keep up with a rowdy barbarian. And of course the punny name played a role in the decision as well, as did the fact that I already had Rina as a player.

Shizuku needed to be brought in because not only is she an aspiring actress, she expressed interest in playing a TTRPG hosted by Setsuna in Setsu’s bond story. The team needed a healer, so so got Rx. I figured any mismatch in personalities could be made up for by Shizu’s acting ability.

Then Shizu’s anime episode dropped. The inner dialogue between black and white resonated with me and the stuff I’d written between Sanguine and Vivian. I realized I needed to reassign things.

Thus, Shizu is now playing a barbarian with a split personality and Ai is playing the healer. I’m using the excuse that Ai takes pleasure in helping clubs succeed by filling whatever role is necessary, so to help this game she is taking up the mantle of healer to help ensure the game’s success.

And there we have it, probably the longest set of Author’s Notes I’ve ever written... deities help me if I ever do something like this in one sitting again.

[ergomaria]

The Past is Gone (but something might be found) Preview Pt. III

Somehow, the text from the original post was deleted when I tried to edit the tags to make this easier to sort. I’ve restored it. Once again, I’m just posting this as a reminder that I’m alive and still trying to write!

PLOT: Vann, Meetra, and Carth touch the wrong thing at the wrong shrine and are turned into themselves at 18. Alek finds himself paying his penance to the Force when he has to simultaneously watch over the trio while trying to figure out how to restore them to their proper ages.

Now saddled with three teenagers and very few clues, Alek nodded in acquiescence as he trudged back towards the Hawk. Luckily, they were all fairly well behaved during the walk. Once they reached the ship the real fun began.

“So, do any of you know the codes to get back on the ship?”

There was a long bout of uncomfortable silence during which it became clear that no adult knowledge about the freighter had stuck with the teens. The worst part was that Alek did know the codes but couldn’t admit that fact without seeming suspicious. The next best option was to rewire the door panel and go from there.

“Alright, here’s a better question. Do any of you know how to rewire a hatch?”

Predictably, it was Deran who raised his hand. “Obviously I can, at least if I have the correct tools. Unfortunately, I don’t have my normal gear…”

The amount of places that Vann had broken into or out of during his search for the Star Forge still grated on Alek’s nerves. He knew for a fact there was a multitool tucked somewhere in that worn black jacket, but it was yet another fact he couldn’t openly share. “This might sound absurd, but everyone check your pockets. If your clothing originally belonged to spacers, and it looks like it did, the original owners may have left something useful behind.”

It was a risky gamble since there was always a chance that one of them had identifying documents on their person. But Alek was hoping they’d left those behind to perform a mission as covert as hiding a highly dangerous Sith holocron. Onasi’s civilian clothing was the best indicator that this might be the case. For once the Force was on his side and the search produced nothing but various odds and ends. An extra reload for the blasters, a few credits, a ration bar, a medpac, and finally a multitool that Vann had definitely purchased illegally.

Deran was predictably pleased to find the item and immediately set to work rewiring the door to his own ship. Meanwhile, Alek quietly filed that irony away for later. When the exit ramp slid open with a smooth hiss, Onasi practically cracked a tooth in his desperate attempt to not look impressed.

The inside of the Hawk was in partial disarray, though it was hard to tell if this was from whatever had transpired to turn three adults into teenagers or the mere fact that it was Vann’s ship and thus naturally full of clutter. Either way, the mess made it easier for Alek to order the teens to remain in the main hold where it was neater and theoretically ‘safer’ while he ‘checked’ the rest of the freighter. As soon as he was sure they would stay put, he moved into the cockpit to look for further clues.

Despite his tendency towards random piles of mechanical parts, Vann was absolutely fastidious when it came to researching locations and making notes about what he discovered. Before the original trip to Dromund Kaas he’d compiled an entire datapad full of files on the history of Sith purebloods, their laws, and their customs. While Nirauan had significantly less information recorded, there was still a pad with multiple paragraphs discussing the planet’s connection to both the Rakata Infinite Empire and the Force itself. It seemed that the crew was aiming to land near a series of suspected Rakata ruins that had a notable presence.

Datapad in hand, Alek peeked into the main hold to inform his charges of his next step. “Just so you’re aware, I think I found a series notes mentioning that this planet has a strange connection to the Force. I don’t know if it has anything to do with your current situation, but we can’t rule it out. I have a friend who might be able to untangle the few clues we currently have, so I’m going to comm her using the ship’s unit. Just wait here until I’m done.”

“Is she a Jedi?” Meetra was sprawled across two seats looking dangerously bored.

“She was at one time, but she’s since left the Order. However, she’s very knowledge about certain subjects and I feel that her input will be extremely helpful.” One of the subjects she had a great deal of experience with was being a Force prodigy and another was ancient artifacts from the Infinite Empire, currently making her the galaxy’s only authority on the situation. When there were no further questions, Alek hurried away to contact Rakata Base in the hope of begging Bastila for assistance.

“Vann?” The young woman’s face immediately darkened when she saw who was on the other end of the call. “Why are you there and where is Vann?”

“I’m here because Meetra contacted me when there was a complication with their current mission,” Alek hissed as quietly as possible. Noting the concern that immediately overtook Bastila’s face he assured her, “Everyone is healthy. I hesitate to say ‘fine’ because, well… Somehow, through a combination of some Rakta ruins and a Sith holocron, all three members of this crew are currently teenagers with no memories of their adult selves. I’d estimate them between seventeen and nineteen, if I had to guess.”

The incredulous glare was absolutely scathing. “You’ve picked a poor time to develop a sense of humor.”

“Why in Sith hells would I joke about this? I currently have three teenagers in the hold of this damn ship who are convinced that I’m a Jedi Sentinel named Naver who happened to sense a disturbance in the Force. Since it’s blatantly clear that my creativity it lacking, you can be sure that I couldn’t make this bantha fodder up if I tried!”

“Dustil, can you please come here? Our former ‘master’ is on the comm and he believes that he’s being hilarious. Perhaps you can convince him to tell me what’s really going on.”

“What the hells is going on now, Malak?” The younger Onai looked supremely irritated, which actually mirrored how Alek was currently feeling.

“That’s not my name.”

Appearing unbothered by the correction, Dustil sneered for a moment before snapping, “What kinrath nest did Vann get my dad into this time?”

“Oh, did he not tell you? Supposedly through the will of the Force, Vann, Meetra, and your father are now teenagers with no memory of their adult lives.” Bastila looked equally unamused. “Funny, yes?”

“Hi-kriffing-larious.”

Alek was about two second from hanging up and hoping that Rand would be more helpful, if only to get Meetra back into her proper body, when a slender figure crept into the room just within view of the comm unit.

“Um, Knight Naver, I apologize for bothering you but…”

There was a loud pop of static from the other end of the comm, which turned out to be Bastila covering the microphone with her hand so that she could curse for about thirty seconds straight.

“Yes, Deran? I was actually just telling me friend Bastila a bit about you and the others in the hope that she’d be willing to assist us in figuring out what happened. Perhaps you’d like to speak with her about your current situation? It could be useful.”

It was hard to tell who was more bewildered by the entire scenario. Luckily, Deran’s natural curiosity quickly took hold and he slipped over to the console and situated himself before the camera. “Hello, Bastila was it? What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh stars…” The young woman was doing a poor job of disguising her surprise, though she still managed to stutter, “I apologize for my lack of manners. You just… remind me of someone I know. No matter. Actually, Deran, I was just wondering how, ah, how old you are.”

“You really aren’t a Jedi, are you? Sorry, that was rude. It’s just… everyone in the Order always seems to know everything about me. But uh, I turned eighteen a few months ago.”

“Two years before Knighthood…”

“Bastila, be careful. You don’t want to scare the boy!” While it was technically true that Deran became the youngest Knight in the order at age twenty, that wasn’t information his eighteen-year old self knew. It wasn’t until nineteen that his trials actually began.

Plastering on a false smile, the young woman quickly stammered, “That’s just a guess on my part. Though, of course, I could be wrong. It’s not like I can see the future and you’re so very… young.”

Unfortunately, just the mention of Knighthood had made Deran’s back go stiff, his jaw ticking in the corner even as his expression remained stoic and proper. “Well, that’s for the Council to decide. They know best.” Even at this age he sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “What else do you want to ask me?”

“That’s… that’s it.” Turning to Alek, Bastila stated, “I believe you and I’ll do whatever I can to help. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’ll send you all of the data I have in a minute. Let me just find out what brought Deran in here in the first place.”

“I came in to let you know that Carth and Meetra left the ship. They said that they got tired of waiting for you and decided to explore on their own.” The teen winced slightly. “Also, they may have been flirting? I’m not always great at telling that type of stuff, but it’s possible they just went to go and… you know.”

The snort of hysterics from Dustil was all the confirmation that Alek needed to know that this entire situation was his punishment from the Force. Part of him considered letting Meetra and Onasi do whatever they wanted. Someone else could deal with the fallout. But he also needed to get Deran out of the room to prevent him from snooping. “I’m concerned that they’re going to get themselves into trouble. There are some very powerful ruins on this planet and I’d hate for them to make the current situation even more complicated. Can I trust you to find them and bring them back safely?”

It was an underhanded ploy. Alek was fully aware that Deran’s facade of teenage bravado combined with his crippling fear of failure would make him agree to almost any task without question. But the former Sith didn’t have time to chase two teenagers down, all while trying to keep a third from learning that he was currently speaking with his own kriffing Padawan.

As expected, Deran immediately nodded. “Of course. I’ll bring them back as quickly as possible.”

It wasn’t until the teen’s footfalls disappeared off the ship that Alek sat down with a sigh, his head pounding from the sheer mental acrobatics required to keep this situation moving forward. As he uploaded the information from Vann’s datapad he grumbled, “For Force sake, Dustil. I thought your father would be the responsible one!”

The damned kid was still laughing. “Just checking, but is Meetra the teenager as pretty as Meetra the adult? Big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair?”

Attempting to be objective about the attractiveness of someone who was like a sister to him, Alek shrugged. “I suppose? She was more petite at this age, almost willowy. I honestly think she looks better with some muscle. Less delicate.”

“I don’t care either way, it’s just… My dad kinda has a type. Or, at least he did at that point in his life. My mom was petite with wavy, honey-brown hair. They met when he was twenty.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, you can look up the files for Morgana Onasi if you want. I um, I have. Just to see her, you know? It helps me to remember her face…” Shaking away his melancholy, Dustil cleared his throat. “Ah, anyway, at eighteen my Dad was really responsible when it came to official things. Training and studying? He was incredibly dedicated. But when he had time to himself he kind of… let loose. Nothing really bad, just a lot of drinking and fooling around with his fellow cadets. Put a bunch of bored, horny teenagers in the same dorm and stuff happens.”

Alek had lived in the Jedi dormitories during puberty and was well aware of what could happen. He winced.

“The good news is that my dad definitely liked men at that age as well… Please don’t ask how I know this. It was a really awkward conversation that only happened because I got mad at him and… ugh. But the good news is that he might rediscover how amazing Vann is. He is really great at this age, right?”

“He’s actually an anxious mess who likes to pretend he’s confident, which just comes off as arrogance. It doesn’t help that he’s actually good at whatever he does. Honestly, I think your father currently wants to throttle him.”

“Ouch. Well, maybe they’ll lose all memory of this once they get restored to their actual ages!”

“We can only hope the Force is that kind.” Rubbing his forehead, Alek asked, “Bastila, have you looked over those files I sent?”

“I’m reading them now and I’ll run them through the Rakata archives when I’m done. But you should be aware that, while we have a significant amount of information on the Infinite Empire, we don’t have much else. Vann tries to update what he can, but it’s still nothing compared to what the Jedi possess.”

“Do your best, it’s still more than I have access to on this ship.”

“I do have an idea, but you’re not going to like it one bit.” Upon noting Alek’s hopeful expression, Bastila sighed...

[the-cashewpeia]

Deafening Silence (Lancelot x Deaf Alice/MC) pt. 1

Title: Deafening Silence (pt.1)

Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley x Deaf Alice/MC

Genre: Hurt, angst

Word count: 1667

Note: Modern AU

Warning: -

Another fics here!

❤❤❤❤❤

Lancelot could picturing her wide smile when they started dating.

He could imagine her tear-stained face when they finally vowed to be together for eternity and promised to be there when they needed each other's presence.

And he still remembered the current nights when he returned home, when his wife curled up on the couch, accidentally fell asleep while waiting for him from his overextended job or business trips. The clock already struck past twelve, too late for him to stay anywhere far away from his warm home, but she was still waiting for him. Even he could reminisced the mouthwatering scent that wafted from the piping hot dinner, from healthy chicken soup to a home-made tender steak.

Maybe she was staying up all night just to saw him came home, welcoming him with her heartfelt smile and the warmth of her body as she enveloped his muscular figure into a hug. And maybe she even heaten the meal for numerous times, he didn't know how many, so that he could savor the meal when they were still hot, as if they were prepared right before he set his foot in the house.

But he didn't know. He was too busy to be concerned about her.

It wasn't because they were in an argument, no. They were never put themselves in a verbal fight, as one party wasn't able to communicate with her voice. But it wasn't because he couldn't hear her maybe melodious words, that he chose to stay far away.

It happened because he was a selfish man.

Actually, what did he wanted her to improve or had something she didn't have? She had almost everything he couldn't count it with his fingers.

His wife, was a goddess from the heavens, a gift he got even though he didn't deserve her. A beautiful woman by her looks and heart and was a prodigy in her school, as she was praised by many on account of those reasons.

She was a soft-hearted, contrary to his tough and stubborn one.

She could vision the world widely with her other senses, far beyond normal people would. He even learned so many things from her, to identify that his life was so much brighter and have another color other than black and white. To feel her feathery touches in this rough world. To savor the fragrance of blooming flowers, when they were on a date on a random occasion, or the scent of the damp soil as the aftertaste of last night's pouring rain. To satisfy his palate with luscious treats and big feast, when he couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed his food back then.

And her lack of awareness to any other sound turned to be a good thing for them. The way their hands moved to string up some unspoken words and cracked up for some silent jokes without anyone knowing or even understood, and that always be one of their secrets.

The blond man drew a thin curved-up line, as their honeyed sweet memory flashed up. It reminded him, how...

How he missed her. So much.

So much it hurt. So much it fractured the unbreakable walls he built within his steely heart.

He couldn't imagine himself yearning for someone so bad, like he did for her.

He needed her right now, to relieve this bundle of uneasiness in his heart. But who was him? Her husband? Who could have said that he was her long-life partner when he was absent from her side, when she needed him the most? Who? Even himself was too ashamed to acknowledge it, because the sin he committed was unforgivable.

Lancelot clumped himself on the couch, just like she did before. Her flowery scent wafted, tickled his senses. How long she waited for him? Could he did the same till she came home to him, smiling as if nothing bad ever happened between them. He could and he would, but would she?

Unable to hold the sadness that set a flame in his chest, Lancelot moved to their room. Their former shared room.

Cold air enveloped him, as the door opened. He could barely remember the last time they laid on the bed together, killing time with just cuddling and playing with each other's hair. The last time he slept in this room was the last time he saw her, with back facing his, avoiding herself to throw her arms around his body, even though that was the thing she wanted to do when finally they met each other.

He felt empty. He did feel empty. Just like their closet, as her clothes already disappeared from it, reminding him when he kicked her out from their home, from his heart.

The unfilled closet was almost empty, actually. He found an azure swallow-folded paper in a shelf. He cradled it in his hand, just as he did back then to her hands when she fell down. A scribble in black was visible to his sea-blue eyes and he realized that it was no ordinary folded paper. It was a letter.

From her.

With shaky hands, he unfolded it. More and more the paper been spread out, he could feel the thin material crinkled at some point, showing him how hard she tried to write him a letter with tears pouring her delicate face like a blizzard.

When he finally recognized her handwriting on the opened letter, he felt his chest being squeezed by an invisible hand. Her neat handwriting strung some poetic lines of words, full of apologies of the incorrect things she didn't do at all.

'Dear the love of my life, Lancelot...'

Just reading the first line brought him into sobbing mess. After all the bad things he did to her, she still thought him as her eternal partner. She still loved him despite the cold hands he gave to her.

'I'm sorry....'

Some paragraph in the opening was full of sorries, from her usual poetic atonements to the things she felt she lacked. The things she thought that they were all burdens to him and she chose to blame all to herself, loaded the heavy weights to her fragile and scared shoulders.

His eyes brimmed, unable to read her apologies anymore. He sniffed, pressed the letter tightly on his chest, as if it was her body.

After a while, he peeked through the brimming tears, trying to know the rest of the letter but skipped the previous part.

You don't need to say sorry, when you aren't in the fault side. He whispered from the bottom of his broken heart.

After all, she did nothing wrong to be apologized for.

'I wish to stay, but you don't have any room for me in your heart.'

Her wish, the one dream that was natural for her as his wife to have, tortured the person who wished itself. As if a knife was stabbing her body, left the wound open without anyone to take care of it.

Anyone, and even him.

All the words written on the crinkled paper were so kind. She was so kind, in the first place. The woman once he cared deeply never doubting him, as her positive mind always praised him. No matter how awful man he could be.

He regretted it.

He was afflicted, as if the world would collapse, would crack a giant hole and swallowed him up and left him to a deep pit of hopelessness.

The blue paper slipped from his hand, landed soundlessly on the floor, as his heart already fallen on the same spot as his feet, or even lower, deep in the earth's core.

As he eyed the paper, he found another one, a white one. It was creased rather hastily and slipped beneath the shared cupboard. Lancelot unfolded the single sheet, his eyes landed on some certain explanation about her health, as the insignia of a nearby hospital bared itself for him to see.

So, she was sick and won't let him to worry about her. And what kind of sickness....

His eyes wavered, as a conclusion he never thought written under a large table of examination's result.

She was carrying his child. Their child.

Lancelot never run so hasty in his life before. He raced past the door, past the spacious hallway of his luxurious house, as his mind only screaming his loved one's name, praying so he could find her, no matter how long it would take.

As he scrambled to grab his car key, his phone dropped. The device was vibrating, blinked rapidly and lit the whole carport with it's dim radiance. He tried to ignore his phone, but her name popped up on the screen, as he realized that she was calling him.

Why? Did something happen?

She never called him before and he couldn't stop a million questions from lunging his mind.

Lancelot slid the receive button, only to hear a commotion from the other side. He couldn't really make any guess out since it was her first time calling him. But he knew something was off.

"Hello?" He reluctantly let his voice came out, hoping to get some answers for the confusion running wild in his mind.

"Oh!" A shocked gasp could be heard, but it added fuel to the blurring thought of his. It definitely wasn't his wife's voice, as the baritone was ringing in his ear, "I'm sorry for bothering you, sir. I'm a police and I have tried to reach you several times...."

Before the caller finished his explanation, Lancelot cut off the man's words.

"My wife... where is my wife?" His voice quivered, as if there was a quake shaking his whole body.

Please don't... Please don't tell me any kind of bad news....

He could hear a huff of depressed sigh from the caller's side. It jangled his nerves, as the police took his time to deliver whatever message he wanted the blond man to know.

"Well, sir. I want to inform you that--"

[gal-liveblogs]

So we start off Homestuck 2 with a picture of space. Got some green space clouds. So far nothing I would not expect. Though I see there also appears to be a spaceship of some kind, zooming through all this space. Would this be Dirk’s ship?

. . . Yep. That’s defiantly Dirk’s ship. I’m sure Theseus has some really deep, literary meaning, but the reference flies right over my head. As does most of Dirk’s references. He’s too smart for me.

I find it funny that Jake continues the tradition of emblazoning his face on his things. We saw his alt-self of Grandpa Harley doing at all the time. Dirk, of course, has to scribble out the face of his ex.

Dirk. Dirk, are you wearing a villain cape right now? Is that what you’re doing in this moment? Dirk, please.

He is totally wearing a villain cape, complete with tattered edges. He is also wearing a Heart gi, because Dirk is nothing if not anime.

Jesus Christ, I already see the paragraphs of orange under this. You’re gonna make me read all this, aren’t you. Dirk?

Dirk proves to be as verbose as ever.

So did Dirk really write out all his narration on physical pieces of paper and scatter them over his desk? Did he do that just to be Extra, or is that something he has to do as an Author now? Do they only count in the narrative text if they are actual text and not just his own thoughts?

Whatever the case may be, Rose interrupts his soliloquy.

I have it on authority that decanting is sometimes necessary to ensure a wine is at its best. I like to think that the same was ultimately true of her.

Decanting of a person’s soul sounds particularly ominous, thought I can’t express the exact reason why.

ROSEBOT: I just imagined you wearing an apron over your god tier outfit and almost felt my facial fuselage buckle in such a way as to approximate a fleeting smile.

Glad to see being a robot and also assimilating all her possible selves Rose remains a sass queen.

DIRK: Alright we get it you are literally a robot.

DIRK: No need to keep pointing it out every chance you can get. I got enough of this with the Auto Responder.

ROSEBOT: I'm just playing along.

ROSEBOT: One of the fundamentals of bad science fiction is that any artificial beings must make their inorganic nature known at every juncture they can.

DIRK: Do overly precise and completely meaningless statistics that you pull out of your ass on the fly also count?

ROSEBOT: Oh absolutely.

ROSEBOT: That's one of the first things you just sort of spontaneously learn when being booted up.

ROSEBOT: For example, I've calculated that by making these remarks I have raised the base level of amusement in all my conversations by 36%.

DIRK: Well I don't personally find them very funny.

Dirk has some trauma with robots pulling out bullshit statics. Which makes it all the more fascinating he continues to build robots that can have free thought.

Jesus Christ, it wasn’t just the lighting, Dirk’s shades really are orange now. Hussie may not have known about Kamina when he designed Bro, but Dirk always wearing Kamina glasses has just become a part of his character. So much so that they are even colored like Kamina’s instead of black now. I have to wonder, had Kamina not been a character that already existed or if people hadn’t kept pointing out that Dirk/Bro wore shades similar to an anime character, would Dirk be so anime? Is being anime just a character trait that Hussie gave him because of a funny coincidence and he wanted to play up the joke, or was he always intended to be so anime?

Also is that trashcan literally an inferno?

ROSEBOT: I just thought you might like to know that we're getting pretty close to your chosen crash site.

Do they not know how to land the ship? Does the ship not have landing gear? Do they need to crash for narrative reasons and otherwise would be perfectly capable of landing normally? Is Rose just making a joke?

DIRK: Wait, crash site??

Oh, good, Dirk is as confused as I am. So that rules out narrative reasons.

ROSEBOT: A landing gear appears to have fallen just a little outside the realm of vital.

So lacking landing gear it is! God damn it, Jake.

DIRK: (God DAMN it English.)

Ha!

ROSEBOT: Don't be such a chud, Dirk.

I am afraid to ask what a chud is. Is that like a cuck? I don’t know what a cuck is either. I am also afraid to ask what a cuck is.

ROSEBOT: She's functionally mortal, remember?

Yeah, that really sucks that Karkat, Terezi, and Kanaya all lack godtier. Karkat would complain about his lack of flight abilities, but I’m surprised Terezi or Kanaya never brought up this fact. Especially Kanaya, what with her marriage to Rose. Kanaya would eventually grow old and die, leaving Rose to keep on living. Of course, Rosebot has decided to leave her loving wife behind so in this particular case that point doesn’t matter.

DIRK: You mean to say that you don't think we'd be in peril if it came to it?

DIRK: There's nothing about our situation that strikes you as falling within the bounds of precarity, as far as the rules are concerned?

ROSEBOT: Oh. You're right. I suppose I hadn't thought of that.

ROSEBOT: But I think we can remain calm in the knowledge that nothing particularly heroic is going on right now. At least, not that I'm aware of.

DIRK: ... Right.

Not sure if Dirk’s meaning flew over Rose’s head, or if she’s just choosing to ignore the possibility of Just deaths as a joke.

That doesn't mean this (*gestures to the narrative*) isn't still going to be a thing, though.

I don’t know why, but this tickles my funny bone.

All in all I think you'll find, as far as narrators go, I'm an excellent... hm. On second thought, maybe that's a bit of a problematic phrase. Yeah, yikes, that one's got a sordid history. Best we steer clear of it. We're all lucky I'm around to make those kinds of sensitivity judgements on everyone's behalf.

I’m glad you can recognize that Homestuck fans all have a fight or flight response that that memetic phrase, but I don’t appreciate you patting yourself on the back for being sensitive when you, as a narrator, could not use Roxy’s correct pronouns once they came to light.

It's time to get this story back on the rails, back to what it was always supposed to be. I know it, and you've somehow always known it too. There was something else, some other route that Homestuck was meant to take but then didn't, a way that wouldn't've spent so much time dicking around with stuff nobody cares about. Like seriously, why did we all have to sit through talking about everyone's most intimate and private feelings for two hundred thousand fucking words. That would never have happened in Act 1. Where did it all go wrong?

So Dirk’s grand plan is to go back to the asinine tomfoolery of Act 1? To do away with character relations and feelings and have people messing around with their sylladexes? I must say, I never would have expected this from the likes of Dirk. I thought he was all about the complex thought processes and inner turmoil.

Thank you for returning the narration to classic black, Dirk. It’s so much easier on the eyes.

Channelling my full potential as an ascended player of Heart, I expand my consciousness to commune with the boundless force of collective willpower that is the internet.

Wow, who knew Heart players could become the internet. I mean, I guess it makes sense. The internet is just a collection of people, and Heart is all about the soul. 

I was really hoping the command box he made would be an actual command box. I missed out on the Homestuck days of old where the command box was a real thing. It would have been fun to be a part of that myself, but I understand the fandom is just too big for that ever to be feasible again. That’s why it was done away with in the first place, and that was when the fandom was smaller.

The writers came up with e good command, though.

Yeah, I have a feeling Dirk is going to decide to ignore this command and stop taking suggestions. Either that, or he’s going to inform us that he is not making Homestuck, he’s making Homestuck 2.

But I should have known better. People think you can run a story like this? This must be just about the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with. I'll just have to make up the commands myself from here on out. Seemed to work ok for the other guy.

Yep, pretty much what I expected.

Oh Jesus Christ, what even is this room?

O.K., let’s take things from the top. Looks like we got the beta kids’ entry items, as well as their Aspect flags from Prospit and Derse. Why does Dirk have these things? There also appear to be some cruxite dowels next to them, but they are any of the colors we’ve seen before.

WOAH, HOLD UP, Are those Dave’s copies of SBURB? Or are they Bro’s? Clearly Dirk has just collected a bunch of items from various points in Homestuck’s timeline like some sort of museum. For what purpose, though?

Oh my god, there’s a Tab watering can. I assume it was alchemized, since Dirk mentioned earlier using alchemy to make his rad new shades. I wonder why Dirk has that Skaianet poster on his wall. I would have thought he’d want nothing to do with anything Jake had his fingers in. Then again, there also appears to be a kotatsu with Jake’s bedspread in the middle of the room.

I can’t tell what the green thing is next to the mutated kitten. Or what that other green thing next to the robot horse is either.

OH FUCK ME THERE’S A ROBOT CAL IN THE PROCESS OF BEING MADE. DIRK, NO. WHY. YOU HAVE THE NARRATIVE CONTROL NOW, YOU SHOULD KNOW CAL IN ANY FORM IS BAD NEWS.

Is that... Is that an anime body pillow there at the bottom?

I also keep my FLORA OF THE SUCCULENT PERSUASION in here, so's I can keep an eye on them.

Dirk grows succulents... That is not a character trait I expected of him.

> Continue

[sincerelylies]

Me to Me

Dearest Truth,

Some things never go back to normal. If we can ever call something normal. Even if we can life is constantly changing. Okay let's put some coherence behind this. I feel like I don’t know how I feel. I think that no one does, but then why doesn’t it bother anyone? Maybe they do and it’s just me that’s weird. Maybe they are bothered by their ignorance and I’m just weak. I wish I knew, but nobody I know is alright with talking about this stuff. Or maybe they just don’t understand. Well actually Nick might; I doubt anyone else would though. We all know so little about each other. It’s pretty sad. Hopefully one day it isn’t like this. Hopefully one day it’s better. Why do I ever get the idea to write stuff out. Every time I try I get stuck. Like now, I know how I feel, but I can’t put it into words really. Man I really need some help. Screw life on this miserable Earth. Nobody understands anything, and when they do it’s all wrong. I don’t mean their understanding, I mean their attitude. Shouldn’t understanding bring happiness and closure? Why does it bring This? I wish things could be how they used to be. What I mean to say is, I wish I was still ignorant. They ain’t joking when they say ignorance is bliss. I didn’t have a clue how much I actually didn’t know. Now it’s like I can’t turn around without feeling terrible about being so fucking wrong. Am I the problem here? I just don’t get it. Why don’t I get it?

Feels like it was time to start a new paragraph. You know, it’s never really over. Not the text, I mean, well. Everything I guess. Stuff doesn’t end, it just changes appearance. I think I might be a little conceited to believe I was the only person to notice. I don’t think I’m afraid of change though. I think I might be afraid of what the change brings. I mean if nothing changed life would get awfully boring, but what will the change bring this time. What if the change is bad and I only notice once it’s too late to do something. Could I really do anything though? I guess it’s not change, it’s the helplessness I get when confronted with change. I wouldn’t mind changing really, but the universe just thrusts change upon us in a very rude way. I apologize. I shouldn’t talk bad about forces that don’t even have control of themselves. Why do I get like this. I was doing so good. I wasn’t even really sad for so long. How come home doesn’t feel like home? I feel like a piece of a puzzle only in the wrong place. But I think my family loves me, right? Otherwise I wouldn’t be here… right? Is there really a reason I feel like such a failure. I’m kind of getting sick of thinking it will all be better in the morning. Sleep won’t expel my problems. Problems wait. Problems are patient. I actually thought I could do it. I must’ve been crazy to think so. To think that one little change in my life would get rid of my problems. I thought a sense of purpose was what might make me happy. Why was I wrong? Am I a bad person, or is it just wrong to think this way? What did i do wrong? Fuck I need help. This isn’t really helping like I thought is would. My hands are shaking. Make it stop. Please let me be happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been depressed, but I think it might feel a bit similar to this. I just feel so helpless. I’m okay with not being in control, just not when nobody is. If someone was steering this ship it’d make things way easier.

I don’t know myself. Someone whom I respect once said that I might be asexual. I think they might be wrong, but who knows. Definitely not me. My family used to joke that I was gay because I never brought home any girls. Guess they never thought I might just be terrible at talking to people. I was quiet in school. I think I was afraid of my peers. In a way I still am. I’m fine with people older and younger, but people my age are just hard to talk to. I don’t mean in general, I mean to start the conversation. If they approach me then I’m fine. But I cannot, for the life of me, strike up a conversation with some random who appears to be my age. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be fearless either though. After all, what is the point of living if you aren’t afraid of dying? I started writing this to maybe discover something about myself. Maybe find the truth. All I've found so far is broken hopes and confusion. There is no truth in me, at least not that I can find. Humans are a social species. We’ve survived for so long because we are social creatures. Yet I feel alone. I’m surrounded by people that love me, and I love them. Yet I feel alone. This sounds so fucking dumb on paper. So cliche. So mainstream. So fake. It isn’t fake though. I wish it was. I wish it was a lie. I wish it was a disappointment. I know one truth and that is the fact that I’m broken. I’m not sure how much longer I can put this off. Honestly the only Real reason I haven’t just ended it all is because I don’t want my family to live with that burden. The idea that they could’ve done something to stop me. I don’t want anyone to feel like this is their fault. It’s no one’s fault but mine. I can’t help myself. Why am I crying? I knew what I was going to write. It always comes back to this spot. Why does this have to be the one thing that never changes. My guts hurt. My vision is blurry with tears. There is no real me, just this husk of a nobody. If I did it, how long would it be before i was forgotten? Not long I think. I have no legacy to leave. I’m just me. Maybe that’s alright, but why does it feel so bad? “What’s the point.” Such a stupid thing to say. How dense do I have to be. There doesn’t have to be a point. What is the deal with being hung up on the “point of it all”. I really don’t know myself. I’ve never asked these questions in earnest. Am I afraid of the answers?

I was raised in a good home. With a loving family. There was always enough. We never went without. My parents never argued in front of us. We all got along. I didn’t have some gnarly trauma as a kid. I shouldn't feel the way I do. It isn’t fair to those who’ve suffered. I feel like a fake. I don’t have any reason to be this way. I feel so bad for those who’ve suffered a wrong. A bad set of circumstances. If I feel the way I do after growing up in a good household. I shudder to think of the way others feel. Man… it’s so easy for me to say the whole “someone always has it worse than you,” bit. Because I didn’t really suffer I think? I should be happy. So why do I feel so broken? I apologize to those who have suffered trauma. I am sincerely sorry for feeling the way I do. I shouldn’t feel this way. My life wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be happy. Do I secretly enjoy being miserable? Somewhere in my subconscious mind am I getting a kick out of all this? That is a truly awful thought. I don’t think it’s too accurate either. My brain isn’t dumb enough to enjoy this void in my chest. I hope.

I never wanted this. I love to live. I love seeing nature. I love laughing. I love learning. I love people. I love the smell the morning after it rains. I love starting road trips before the sun is up. I love tasting new foods. I love the feeling of accomplishment. I love being able to make other people smile and laugh. I love being cozy when it is snowing outside. I love being out in the sun. I love exploring. I love reading. I love music. I love having a place to even call home, because I know that some people don’t have that. There is so much that I love in this world. Shouldn’t this be enough to make me happy? Just loving these things, even if i don’t always have them? Even when life gets hard, and I feel so alone; shouldn’t the thought of these things make me feel better? Isn’t that what love is? If not then what is the purpose of this dumb feeling we call love. Maybe I just think I love these things based off of other people’s definition of love. Maybe my mind has tricked me into thinking I love at least a few things because without love one is considered broken. Well you can stop it brain. I’m already broken, and there is no mechanic or carpenter, no plumber or electrician, nobody who knows how to fix me. I’m a mess that can’t be cleaned up. Only stuffed away temporarily.

We’re all alone you know. Our lives only very briefly touch, and then we’re alone again. I think I did learn something by writing all this out. It definitely wasn’t what I thought I’d learn. That doesn’t take away from the significance in the least bit, though. I don’t really understand what I’ve learned though. I just feel a bit better. More sure of myself. Well, actually just more sure that I can do this thing called life. Even when all else fails me, I find my solace in the written word. The manuscript of the mind. A hope within myself that had laid dormant. Only awoken by the clacking of keys beneath my finger tips, and the song in my soul. It isn’t much, but it’s a step in the right direction. I truly feel better after getting this all out of my head. I have so much more to share. I hope that somebody reads this. Not for me, I just think that seeing it all written down can help. Writing it sure made a difference, however slight. I’ve only just opened the vault of my mind. I hope I’m there to get it all onto paper.

Sincerely,   

Lies   

[rainyrowan]

Sunkissed - Chapter 1

description: Wedding of the century rolls around as the previous college clique, along with the rest of their family members, stay in preparation for it. During this time, Riley meets Lucas, a gorgeous, green-eyed wallflower who happens to be immediately taken by her. Little did she know, he has a deep secret. One that will either change her views on him forever or make her feel closer to his world.

word count: 2,626

pairings: riley x lucas

Song: Annabelle’s Homework by Alec Benjamin

chapter one; riley

Sparkley Farkley: Did you know that the slowest marathon time ever is 54 years, eight months, six days, eight hours, 32 minutes, and 20.3 seconds? Yeah, in 1912, an Olympic marathoner from Japan supposedly disappeared during the middle of a race. Some say that he stopped to get a drink from an outdoor party, but ended up staying longer than he should have. Risque, if you ask me. Anyways, he was too embarrassed to finish the race, so he flew back to Japan instead. Years later, he decided to finish what he started by running the whole marathon himself. What I'm trying to say is WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? Riley, you're seriously taking much longer to get to the boardwalk than this Japanese marathon guy. Hurry!!

I looked at the horrifically long paragraph Farkle had sent me and sighed. Being best friends with him also meant being best friends with your very own encyclopedia, which can be extremely useful at times. Although, it really isn't when your phone is constantly being bombarded with numerous texts about everything and nothing.

Gentle reminder that I live farther from the beach than you do. I'll be there soon! Don't miss me too much :)

I quickly text back. I gripped onto my camera strap, which is draped over my shoulder, as I start quickening my pace.

When we became closer over the years, Farkle and I both created a tradition of spending almost every Saturday down at the boardwalk. In regards to this, the main rule that we've agreed upon would be that if one of us couldn't make it, we would have to have an extremely valid excuse. Me being the more "laid back" friend, I've been pretty lenient on Farkle if he couldn't make it. Wish I could say the same about him, though.

Last night, I had to stay up till two in the morning helping my mother out at the flower shop. Arranging flowers isn't as easy as one may think. In result, I woke up later than usual, causing me to be about 30 minutes late. So far, I've received a fact text from him for every minute I ran late. It truly amazes me how he could just drop these facts off the top of his head.

I'm practically already running when I see Farkle by the entrance, arms crossed.

"I'm sorry!" I pant. I take a second to breathe before I continue speaking. "I.. I woke.. Wow, I'm not cut out to be.. an athlete, huh?" I joke.

He rolls his eyes as a grin forms on his face. "Where were you?"

"I was up all night helping my mom with the flowers. I woke up super late. I'm so sorry."

He nods in approval of my excuse. "That's okay. However, I don't think we could go to the diner now. Brooklyn and her minions are there. Seated in our spots too!"

The thought of Brooklyn made me sick to my stomach. Brooklyn was the Regina George of Harbor High School, and basically all of Santa Cruz. Like your typical teen cliche, she was the popular girl who also the prettiest. Brooklyn also had her own entourage, as she always had two minions following her. With her bitchy personality, you may say that it's surprising that she gets all the guys. With her body, though, it really isn't. It's probably how she had my crush of four years and counting, Charlie Gardner, falling for her.

"Well, I guess we would have to postpone our meal then," I say, linking my arms with his. We enter the boardwalk and head straight for the arcade. We're surrounded by all the games you could never ever get tired of. From Dance Dance Revolution to laser tag to racing games, the Santa Cruz Boardwalk Casino Arcade has you covered. Farkle and I have our common favorite, air hockey.

He let go of my arm, dashing straight to the air hockey table. "You ready to get your ass beat?"

He asks, slipping in a token. We love each other very much, but when it comes to air hockey, it's like we're two different people.

"You should be asking yourself that, Minkus." As air starts to shoot through the tiny holes from the table, we both grabbed our paddles. Suddenly, the puck falls through my pocket instead of Farkle's. "Well, that's a first! I guess I'm starting."

I hit the puck as hard as I can towards his goal. Hoping that this time my first hit would make it, he blocks the puck in a swift move and smiles. "Not today." This goes on for quite a bit. I concentrate on the puck as it glides across the table back and forth. That is, until a distraction came my way. Charlie.

I offer him a double take before actually realizing that it was him. He probably didn't even notice me, which was a good thing on my part. I didn't want him to know that I was here. Out of impulsive thinking, I ducked down to hide behind my side of the table. This wasn't really the best decision, though. Farkle managed to make a goal and yell on behalf of his victory. I don't even have to see what's happening to know that attention was surely brought towards us.

"Farkle!" I call out in a whisper. He walks around the table and takes a seat next to me.

"So, explain to me why we're hiding behind- "

"Riley!" Charlie exclaims. Mortified, I lift my head up to find him standing right in front of us.

"Hi, Charlie." I saw awkwardly. Thankfully, Farkle gets up off the ground and pulls me up, as I was too scared to even move.

Farkle clenches is jaw subtly enough that no one could notice, except for me. It's safe to say that he never liked Charlie. I don't blame him. Most of the time, he can be a total jackass.

I'm not too sure how or why I've liked him for so long, and still currently do. I like to think it's because of the fact that I'm always seeking the best in people. I don't necessarily like making assumptions out of people based on looks or first encounters. For Charlie, I realized how much of a good person he is, deep down, whilst working on a school project with him in the public library. My father, who so happened to be my teacher, assigned both of us as partners for a project that we had to turn in a matter of three days. Within those three days, we'd head to the library at night to work, but we were never productive. All we did was talk. Well, all Charlie did was talk. About himself, of course. I would just sit and listen. It was kind of odd not taking part in the conversation, but I mostly did not mind. As a matter of fact, I remember feeling like it was for the best since I would most likely say something stupid. Plus, I got to learn more about him and who he truly was. The downside of it was that I had to take our project home and finish it myself, but I thought that it was worth it. From that moment on, I couldn't help but keep thinking about him, about us.

Charlie extends his hand out to Farkle, expecting a shake, but he steps back. "I'll wait for you outside." He tells me. No, no. Please don't leave me alone with him.

"Well, that was awkward." He laughs. "But anyways, I am so glad I caught you. I was wondering if you're free like right now? I was hoping that you could help me out with something."

Crap. As much as I would love to help him, I promised Farke that I would spend the day with him. However, as I was looking up at Charlie's mesmerizing brown eyes, I seem to have ignored that fact. "Um, sure." I squeaked. I clear my throat and try again. "What would I be helping you with exactly?"

"You see, we're doing headshots in drama, and you're kind of known to be a really talented photographer," I blush as he says so.  Along with the fact that his words make me swoon, another thing about Charlie that I liked was the fact that he is a performing arts fanatic. I'm presuming that it's something that he would like to achieve in the future. He's actually really talented if I'm being honest.

"So, would it be alright if you got a couple of portrait shots of me by the beach?" Charlie asks.

"Maybe in return, I can buy you a milkshake afterward."

Farkle is so going to kill me after this.  "Er, okay."

"Great! C'mon, let's go." He starts heading towards the exit as I trail behind him. Hoping that he was the gentleman I thought he'd be, I expected him to open the door for me. Instead, he ends up leaving it to close behind him. I sigh, disappointed for getting ahead with my thoughts. Once I've exited the arcade, I immediately scan my surroundings in search for Farkle.

"I'm here." He calls out from behind me. I turn to find him leaning against a wall.

"You're going to hate me," I confess.

A smirk creeps up on his face. "Not gonna lie, I was already kind of assuming."

"You're not mad?"

"No," Farkle says softly. "I still hate that bastard, though. But I mean if you like him that much-"

I pull him into a hug. "Thank you," I whisper.

"Yeah, okay." He wraps his arms around my back and chuckles lightly.

"Riley?" Charlie yells.

I pull away from Farkle and adjust my outfit. This would technically be the first time I get to hang out with Charlie alone, so I obviously want to look presentable. However, that's clearly not the case since I'm currently in my maroon Harvard sweater that Farkle had actually bought me from when he visited last year, along with a pair of faded ripped jeans.

"Do I look okay?" I ask.

He holds two thumbs up. "Can't say no to a girl in Ivy League gear."

"I love you, and thanks a bunch!" I plant a quick kiss on his cheek before running towards Charlie.

Once I've caught up to him, we both head to the beach together.

I truly do love the beach. I love the ambiance of waves crashing against the shore, along with the wailing of seagulls as they soar across the sky. Not to mention, the smell of the ocean beach as well. Everything about the beach is so captivating and peaceful, especially since it's a little early and not a lot of people are here. The afternoon is the absolute worst time to visit the beach. The fact that there are so many people who usually come on a day to day basis, makes me a little anxious to go.

Charlie leads me to where the dock is located. Farkle and I would usually come to take pictures underneath the dock. This area is quite aesthetically pleasing.

"I think this is a great spot." He says, placing his bag down as I begin to adjust the settings of my camera. I let him know that I'm ready once everything's all set. Charlie then runs towards the shoreline and starts posing of a shot. Since I'll be capturing portrait shots, I made sure that my camera is set so all my photos can have a shallow depth of field. This way, Charlie will be in focus as the background will be a bit blurry. After taking a few photos here and there, I stop to look at them. Charlie was perfectly centered, the lighting was on point, and all shots have great composition. Perfect. I think to myself. However, Charlie apparently doesn't exactly think so when he sees them.

"Yeah, this situation just isn't working for me. Let's try something different." He looks around for a moment. "Here, why don't you get some bird-eye shots of me laying on the sand."

I was a little offended that he didn't like the photos I originally took. I spoke out, irritated. "I thought we were taking portraits?"

"I'm just trying to think outside of the box here, Riles. Maybe the photos will turn out better." I scoff at what he had just said. What difference does it make? You're just going to be lying down. And I thought all headshots were portraits. There he goes acting like a douche, but here I am, still taking interest in him.

Charlie lies down on the sand and places his hand behind his head. From the looks of it, he could pass for a Hollister or Abercombie & Fitch model.  I stand directly on top of him to get good shots. If I'm being honest, this isn't the ideal position I'd want to be in. It's a little uncomfortable and weird, really.

Suddenly, water hits the shore and Charlie attempts to save his khaki pants by jerking straight up. Instead, jerking straight up somehow caused me to tumble forward, allowing both of us to fall back down. I also end up dropping my camera on the sand. Water continues to run beneath Charlie, which caused his whole outfit to be soaked. "Shit!"

The water still kept going around us. I panic as I watch it slowly ooze towards my camera. Miraculously, the water stopped before it could reach it. I graciously let out a sigh of relief. "Will you get the fuck off of me now?!" He yells in annoyance. I flinched when he does so and realize that what was happening: I was on top of Charlie Gardener. Because I was on top of him, I didn't get hit by the water at all. I quickly scurried to my feet and grabbed my camera.  I turned to Charlie, who was still really angry that he was drenched. He got up from the ground and gathered his stuff. "Thanks to you," He snaps. "I am soaking wet, and I have rehearsals for the musical after this!"

I feel a familiar tightness gripping my throat. As Charlie continues to curse at me, a burning heat rushes through my body and I can hardly breathe. The DJ over by the boardwalk starts blasting music that seems to be ten times louder than usual. My surroundings then become too horrifically bright. My hands become clammy as I start to lose control of my body. My vision starts to get blurry and my heartbeat begins to speed up to the point where I could hear it.

Once Charlie finishes grabbing his stuff, he walks over to me. He stops and takes a deep breath. "Just email me the photos whenever you can." And with that, he walks away. When I've lost sight of him, I walk towards the pebbles near the ocean. I stare out to sea, trying to take big breaths. I stay until I've finally coaxed my heartbeat back to normal.

[youveneverbeenalone]

Inktober for Writers/Fictober:

Day 30- Secret (Darejones)

Hello again, fam. Are you ready for the second to last installment of this project I took on a year ago and which took on a life of its own, but which has brought me such joy in the end? I think I am.

Today’s prompt, Secret, turned into one of my favorites. Maybe even my very favorite. It started as a crack idea that I barely started writing last year, but then I sat down and thought about it for a minute and realized ... I might be on to something. But then I took longer than I meant to in getting everything about it just right. I think it was worth it, though. I’m pretty proud of this one. I hope you like it.

Now, fair disclosure (and cw: sexual assault - not in the fic but in this paragraph): parts of what I write for Jessica are what I’d call ... autobiographically-adjacent. My story is different than hers in many ways (obviously) but there are still many similarities. That’s a big part of why I love her as a character so much and why I enjoy writing her. So occasionally I borrow inspiration from my own life and find a way to fit it into Jessica’s that will still make sense for her character and within her world. I try to do this with mostly little things. Details that the show never gets to or thinks to touch on. But I try not to do it with anything that would change the shape of her actual story. I never want to add something that doesn’t fit or seems out of character. Hopefully that’s not what’s happening here. Anyway, I may never have been experimented on and turned into a superhero, but I (like too many others) have been manipulated and experienced sexual violence against my will and one of the ways I chose to cope with that violation and reclaim my bodily autonomy was how Jessica chooses to in this one shot. So the idea didn’t just come from nowhere.

Anyway, this piece fits with the general timeline I was creating with the other Inktober for Writers oneshots from last year, right after they first get together. Like immediately after, in the morning.

To refresh your memory and/or to catch up, here are the preceding 29 days on AO3 (tumblr links are being fussy rn). Give me your thoughts if you’re so inclined. I’d enjoy hearing them if you’re interested in sharing. And again - thank you, with every fiber of my being for reading! You’re all the best!

Day 30 - Secret

When he happens to notice this new, secret bit of information about her is as much of a surprise as the discovery itself, because he is not typically one to miss such details, though he’ll chalk most of that up to the fact that the first time he was introduced to that patch of her skin, he was a little preoccupied. But when they’re getting up and around the next morning, he’s free of distractions as he happens upon it again.

It happens the morning after - after they spend the night together for the first time - when he offers to make her breakfast, having woken her gently with kisses, soft touches to her face, and general adoration that she pretends to despise but he can tell she actually loves. She grunts a begrudging affirmative, still groggy and very put out to be awake before 10 am, but gets up and puts on her underwear and t-shirt as he pulls on pajama pants and a t-shirt of his own. Next she finds her jeans and moves to step in them, but in her still half-asleep state, her foot catches in the fabric, and she starts to fall.

He’s behind her in seconds, pulling her up with one hand grabbing her hip and the other at her shoulder to steady her, a smirk on his face. But his expression immediately morphs into one of confusion.

“Wait, is that a tattoo?” The hand holding her hip now traces the skin slightly to the right of her left hip bone where a circular tattoo, about the size of a plum is inked into her skin.

She heaves a big sigh and fights a losing battle with a blush, rolling her head to angle away from him. “I was wondering if you were going to notice that.”

He chuckles softly. “Forgive me if my attention was diverted last night when I might have had the chance to notice it. I would hope my efforts were appreciated and that the oversight could be forgiven,” he says with a sly grin as he leans in and kisses her neck where she’s exposed it for him.

She shivers and he notices her pulse spike. The shiver seems like an indicator that she enjoyed the gesture, but he can’t quite parse if it’s the good kind of pulse spike or not as her adrenaline spikes as well. But then she turns in his hold so that they’re face-to-face, and he makes a mental note to avoid her neck from behind until they’ve had a conversation about it, just to be sure. She doesn’t seem too upset, though, and links her hands around his neck.

“I probably don’t want to know the answer to this question, but how can you tell?”

He settles his hands on her hips and shrugs. “It has to do with the … density of the skin in that area, for lack of a better word. I can feel the ink sitting in the dermis layer.”

“Yeah, that’s not creepy and simultaneously gross at all.”

He just smirks at her. “May I?”

“Fine,” she huffs.

With gentle, teasing fingers, he resumes his tracing of the outline of the shape with a quiet intensity. He pretends not to notice her sharp intake of breath or rapidly increasing pulse as he does. Instead, he narrates what he finds.

“So it’s a smiley face. But a … dead one? Like, with ex-ed out eyes?”

She huffs an exasperated sigh at him, but it sounds like she’s holding back a bit of a chuckle. “It’s the Nirvana logo, dumbass.”

Matt closes his eyes and inclines his head a few degrees, appropriately chagrined even if it’s not technically realistic for him to have known that. He wasn’t really a fan of grunge before the accident.

“Right. Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it.”

She bites her lip and rolls her eyes at him, still fighting a laugh. “I guess you’re forgiven.”

He puts a hand to his chest, voice feigning shock. “I’m touched by your magnanimity.”

At this, Jessica playfully punches him in the shoulder.

A beat passes as he begins re-tracing the outline of the shape on her soft skin, mesmerized by this new discovery. His voice is quiet when he finally works up the courage to ask the question that is suddenly burning a hole through the center of his brain.

“What made you decide to get it?”

She doesn’t seem to understand the sincerity of his interest and shrugs. “I don’t know. Why does any young idiot get a tattoo? I had just turned eighteen and was desperate to do anything that would prove my independence to any and everyone who would listen. Plus, I might have been a little drunk. And I, uhhh … nevermind.”

Matt cocks his head at the way that she begins to trail off, as though editing herself before sharing something too … well, he’s not quite sure what. But he has a suspicion.

“What?”

“Do you not know what ‘nevermind’ means?”

And the flinty edge that is now creeping into her tone does nothing to dissuade him of said suspicion. He runs a few contingencies in his head about how to proceed before making a calculated choice to respond with sarcasm.

“Oh, wait … I do know this one! It’s the name of a Nirvana album?”

“Cute,” she huffs with a halfhearted sneer of a smile. But it’s not too far off of the mark for what he was expecting in response, and it’s less of a shutdown than she could have given him, so he looks at the floor as he pushes her just a little harder.

“Thanks. But, it just seemed like you were thinking really hard about something before you changed your mind. And it just seemed like it was somewhat significant. Now, you don’t have to tell me; you never have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But you also don’t have to not tell me something just because it is significant. I don’t scare that easy, Jones. I’m Daredevil, remember?”

She shakes her head and scoffs at him. “I don’t — I mean, look, I just … ughhh. Fine. It’s just that … even though I wasn’t really consciously thinking it, looking back, it was something I wanted to do for myself. To myself. To show that even though those bastards at IGH had done whatever the fuck they’d done to me, my body was still mine and I got to decide my fate. Including choosing to get a shitty Nirvana tattoo on my hip.”

She’s deflated by the end - as though the disclosure took an inordinate amount of energy from her - posture sagging and looking down and away from him.

Matt blinks at her. “Wow, Jess. That is … surprisingly insightful. And it makes a lot of sense, actually. Thank you for telling me that. Truly.” He brings a gentle hand up to cup her face and lifts her chin, as if to make eye contact with her and emphasize his words.

“Yeah, well, congratulations. You know all my secrets now,” she says in a flat voice.

He struggles and fails to suppress a chuckle, because the idea strikes him as patently ridiculous. Someone as complex and complicated and intelligent and interesting as Jessica Jones is bound to have more secrets than a Nirvana tattoo. Surely.

“Somehow I doubt that,” he says in an arch tone.

But she doesn’t chuckle back or even huff a laugh under her breath at him. Instead she pushes hard against his chest, effectively breaking out of his hold, and smacks him in the arm with a surprising amount of force.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, very confused at her sudden change in mood.

“That wasn’t supposed to be funny, asshole. But believe me, I’m thrilled to know this is just a big joke to you. That I’m a joke to you.” She storms off, out of his bedroom and into the living room.

Matt hurries after her, his mind reeling and anxiety coursing through his veins. He’s never made such a terrible miscalculation in how she’d respond to his sarcasm, but he supposes it was bound to happen eventually. He just wishes it wasn’t in response to such a fragile moment that he unintentionally stomped all over.

“No! Jess. Never. You’re the furthest thing from a joke to me. I swear. I-I’m sorry. You’re right. That was … very unfair of me. Please forgive me for being so flippant. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or invalidate what you were trying to share with me. I’m sorry.”

A quick scan reveals she’s not particularly moved by his words, standing still and silent, arms crossed tight over her chest, as she stares out of his apartment window into the distance.

He runs a nervous hand through his hair and walks a few cautious steps toward the next window over, but she gives no sign that she acknowledges him. Heaving a heavy sigh, he leans back against the brick wall in between the windows and looks down, addressing his feet as much as he’s addressing her.

“I just meant that there’s so much more to you, so much more than what you present to the world. And I see that. Just as I see why you keep it locked away. You’d be crazy not to. Or at least a glutton for punishment with no survival instinct. But you’re neither of those things. You’re beautifully complex and complicated and messy and I love you for it. For all of it. But please believe me when I say I’m not scared of it. I’m not scared of you or of any possible secret you may have. I meant it when I said you never have to tell me anything, but you always can if you want to or if you need someone to talk to. About whatever.”

She answers him in the form of a heavy sigh as she shifts her weight, leaning into her opposite hip. But she still says nothing, staring blankly out at the city below.

Matt sighs in frustration before making himself take a step back to reassess. He’s pretty sure she’s listening - if not, she would have just left. She had every opportunity to. And he’s seen her leave for much less in the past. So he can’t give up yet. Matt licks his lips as he tries his last remaining strategy, edging ever so carefully closer to her as he speaks.

“Not gonna argue - I totally deserve the silent treatment, but that’s gonna make today pretty miserable for me. So is there anything I could do to make it up to you? Or to show you how sorry I am? I mean, I was already going to make breakfast, but at this point, maybe you’d like it in bed?”

She still refuses to look at him, but she turns from looking out the window to looking down at the floor as she leans her left side against the brick wall in between the windows.

Matt considers this progress and continues edging toward her and offering suggestions for how he could pay his penance.

“Or maybe some old fashioned groveling would help?”

Jessica rolls her eyes at that, and Matt smirks at the fact that he seems to be winning her over, slowly but surely.

“Or maybe … I could get a matching tattoo?”

She bites her lip at that, no doubt to keep from smirking at him. But he’s not about to let her get away with that.

“Is that it? Oh, I think that’s it. But where do you think would be best? Here?”

He holds up his arm, flexing his bicep, and though she can’t help but look at him now, she’s doing her damnedest not to smile. But Matt is nothing if not persistent.

“Or maybe here?” he asks, gesturing with his left hand to his right shoulder blade as he turns around and pulls his t-shirt over his head.

Casually, he drops the shirt to the floor, and as it falls, Jessica’s pulse begins to rise. Matt turns back around to face her and edges one last step toward her, stopping just short of arms-length apart.

He slides a finger under the waistband of his pajama pants and lowers them just far enough to expose his own left hip. “Or what about here? Then we can really match.”

Finally losing the battle against her will, Jessica scoffs at him as a tiny smirk breaks across her scowling face. “Idiot,” she says, though with decidedly less acid in her voice than a few moments ago.

“But I’m your idiot,” he says, as he moves slowly back into her space, allowing her the chance to turn away. When she doesn’t, he settles his hands around her waist and leans his forehead forward to touch hers, ever so gently.

“You’d better be,” she huffs with an exaggerated pout. But then she softens, and he watches, perplexed and absolutely elated, as she curls into him, resting her head on his right shoulder and tracing mindless patterns over the planes of his chest.

A sun-bright grin starts to break across his face, but he turns and presses a soft kiss into her hair to keep it from blinding her. This is a rare display of vulnerability from her and he doesn’t want to spook her or ruin the moment. Instead he responds in a tone with which he assumes she’ll be more comfortable.

“The infamous Jessica Jones showing some amount of affection?! What will people say if they find out?”

She pushes back far enough to give him a look, but it lacks the full threat of which she is capable. “You better not go around ruining my image, Murdock. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

She leans back against his chest, one hand wrapped around his neck while the other settles over his heart, beating steadily - if a little more rapidly at her close proximity.

Matt wouldn’t be able to stifle the magnitude of his smile this time, even if he tried. So he doesn’t.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Jones. All of them.” His hand returns to her hip and ever so lightly traces the outline of her tattoo as he speaks. “I promise.”

A beat passes as the tension between them swells, and Matt listens as Jessica’s heart once again begins to race. And then she’s surging forward, pressing her lips to his, and wrapping her arms around him with a resolution that makes Matt’s blood sing. But not just in a physical way.

Because the way she is reaching for him now feels different. More sure. More comfortable. Like he’s passed some kind of a test, or made it through some trial and proved his worth. Like he’s earned another clue to help him solve puzzle that is Jessica Jones. He understands that as of this moment, he has been let into her world in a way that few (if any) ever have. And he vows never to betray the trust or the gift she has given him in sharing these secret parts of herself with him.

He pulls her in like a lifeline and kisses her right back, sure hands settling at the small of her back and the base of her throat like anchor points, holding her to him. In doing so, he hopes that he has successfully communicated his promise to her. And if the look she gives him as she takes his hand and turns back to his bedroom after they part for breath - chests heaving in tandem - is any indication, he’s guessing she’s got some idea.

—

By the time they actually make it to the kitchen to start working on breakfast, it’s closer to noon than to a respectable breakfast hour, but Matt can’t honestly say he minds. In fact, he thinks that by being with Jessica, he may come to develop a new appreciation for the existence of brunch.

————-

P.S. If anyone is curious (and because I enjoy showing it off) - here’s my version of reclaiming my bodily autonomy by getting a tea saucer sized tattoo between my shoulder blades. So totally worth it.

[siramay-the-showgun-dragon]

Demencia Theory- Not What She Seems

hello my villainous fans and random scrollers by I am from the villainous amino and I am about to show you a theory made by my friend M. with the help of me and a few others to show you a side of dementia you do not seem to see, so before I show it heres a link to M’s original theory on amino:https://aminoapps.com/c/villainous-4971691/page/blog/demencia-theory-not-what-she-seems/8BWv_8mvCmujakwpQx6kxLZvbMaxp5L6LbghR now lets begin

Oh, Demencia, you childish, hyperactive ball of enthusiasm!

With your evil chaotic-ness and your enchanted feelings for your boss, how could you ever be more than the silly thing that meets the eye?

.

.

.

We could think of a few ways.

The following theory is brought to you by the amazing minds from the  Villainous Theory Chat! Those that were involved with this theory include: Notdepresso, Siramay (hey that's me :D), Snivy, and Lynxi!

(And me but eh)

I'm almost tempted to say "forget about all of the other theories about Demencia you may have heard of before" because, this. is. insane.

We Villainous theorists believe that Demencia is....

A Podemos Bailar agent. 

Y'all:

Now before you start shaking your heads, hear us out.

Yes, she acts like she has an evil agenda.

Yes, she's the practical personification of chaos.

Yes, she's absolutely head over heels for Black Hat

And yes, she's just so darn silly and maybe even annoying to some.

And doesn't she play it off so well?

Demencia is always at the max with all of these qualities and they never waver.

Her imperfections are too... Perfect.

But oh, is it an amazing disguise.

Who could possibly realize they're being fooled when they are too busy laughing at the fool?

As we all know, Demencia annoys and bothers both Black Hat and Flug with her obsessive and destructive qualities, to the point where they try to avoid her at all costs. Notice how it's always Demencia who approaches them and that it's never the other way around unless the two are absolutely forced to?

The woman has a ridiculous amount of free time to herself; finding the time to teach a bear and a handful of robots a song, destroy thousands of dollars worth of products, draw her Demencia Tips, attempt to romance Black Hat, make puppets, learn guitar, etc.

With all that free time and privacy... Who really knows what Demencia can and will do?

This disguise, this face she has made for herself is perfect. She is free to stalk her subjects right in front of them and not be questioned for it except for the occasional, exasperated "what does sHE THINK SHE'S DOING!?"

And this is just the minimal tip of the iceberg.

There's so much more.

Demencia's bizzare behavior truly doesn't raise any real questions because everyone within the manor is so used to it that something as odd as messing with a computer to creating your own "advertising" short without anyone's knowledge to it is seen as Demencia being Demencia.

This lizard lady could do almost anything without ever being truly interrogated for it.

She has trained her prey to not be scared of her as she walks right up to it.

Another thing to note about Demencia's behavior is her job at Black Hat Organization. As stated by Flug in the Anniversary short, Demencia handles all hero extermination. This, however, is only to his knowledge. We have no evidence other than Flug's word and a possibly staged picture to prove this. We've yet to find anything stating that a hero has died at any particular time.

In fact, we dont even know if this is really Heavy Punch's cape from the Evil Conquest episode.

cape?

Bish W H E R E ?

(And don't try to tell us it's because it's a kids show, Gravity Falls, a DISNEY production, managed to sweep in 2 paragraphs full of hidden jokes within the same screen pan without drawing too much attention from the younger audience) (besides that there are to many dark and demonic jokes in villainous for that to be a reason also just look at the episodes on mojo jojo and rob) ((this bold is me))

But this all pales in comparison to what's truly incriminating about Demencia, and the answer is found buried within this fandom's favorite bookmarked tab: Podemos Bailar.

Now, I made a post the other day about what we discovered is going on in that right side scrolling of commands on the website: http://aminoapps.com/p/56jwha

What we discovered is that two people are interacting over that animation loop. One person is telling another how to decode a specific piece of an audio file in order to get a message while the other is actually inputting the commands to do just that.

We can firmly assume that these two are our last two dancing agents.

Now how does this tie in with Demencia? Well, it has already been established that Demencia knows how to create her own codes and sneak them into BHO's production videos as we see happen in the very first short, The Perception of Evil, in which a code flashes on screen saying "Demencia Was Here".

Funny enough, a short was released a few months back called "Demencia Wuz Here". And my what a controversial short this one is if you see it like we do.

Let's break it down:

So Demencia left a hidden code for someone to decipher that referenced an advertisement short that didn't even exist yet. This means that the short was a premeditated thing and not just something done at the spur of the moment for some pickles.

What's also good to note is that there was no reference to King Wazuq's Glove before ((well like that one end frame but nothing else in like actual videos that what I think he meant)) this episode and the outer Demencia doesn't appear to be the type to search for information that deeply for something she wouldn't even know she'd need months before hand.

Unless... The heist was staged.

What we also see in this short is Demencia being able to hack into The Defence Departments, high security, Area 52 cameras in order to capture her stealing the glove. A very difficult task I'd imagine for an empty-headed lizard girl. But... She really hasn't proven herself to be all that has she?

Another thing to note is that Demencia created this entire short on her own. 505, Flug, nor Black Hat knew of this until they walked in on her but, once again, do nothing to stop her. It's just Demencia being Demencia.

Also, have any of you noticed that Demencia is the only character in Villainous so far that labels herself as an agent?

Oh, but this only goes deeper.

Not only is Demencia a Podemos Bailar agent, and not only is she working as an undercover agent amongst villains, she is also the agent telling the other what commands to input on the Podemos Bailar website.

She is telling her true co-worker exactly what to do to find a code she has hidden especially for him in her "advertisement" short.

But how can we be so sure that it's her?

How can we be so sure that it's that video specifically?

Because, if you click and drag the I See All picture into the Google search bar, you will find a link to the website's assets page. With that page are a series of links to different parts of the site. One of those links holds the exact audio file from the "Demencia Wuz Here" short...and it is the only short there.

The short Demencia made without anyone's knowing.

The short that she aquired impossible information for.

And the short she specifically designed and planned from episode one to reach out to her last comrade for and betray her villainous coworkers.

I mean, just look at her body type and compare it to the yet-to-be-found female Podemos Bailar agent! They're a practical match, thick ((EXTRA THICC note I hate using that word)) legs and all! And there is no way that giant next to her is Flug!

Also, another thing to consider is, if neither of these last two agents are on the villainous scene, then how have they been aquiring photos from within the manor? Flug's notes about 505's creation and the picture of the organization's plans to go to Japan are prime examples!

 (another thing about that japan plan pic is that in the same episode it was released with we can see dementia reading that EXSACT same magazine that's in the picture! the clues are hiding in plane sight and no one is any the wiser!)

The evidence is stacking here people, and we the Villainous Theory Chat truly believe that it's only going to become more suspicious as time goes on.

This also means that there is a secret audio code that we need to find in the "Demencia Wuz Here" video. All we need to do is follow the steps she's given us on the site in order to find it.

There is a spy among us and she is clothed in green. (A sheep in lizards clothing)

I hope you enjoyed reading our idea!

Happy Villainy!

and that's his theory he has others to I might post here but if you like this then go to the villinos amino and join are theory chat! and if you are against this theroy tell me why and we at the theory chat will try to debunk you debunking this unless your right BUT YOU GOT TO OPEN YOUR EYES DEMENTIA IS NOT WHAT SHE SEEMS, SPREAD THE WORD or not black hat might be listening and we don't want to blow her cover! but I would like to see more talk about this

so I'm siramay and remember keep claim and drag-on

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

23 things on 'The Office' you've never noticed before

The Office is truly the show that keeps on giving.

Though the NBC comedy has been off the air since 2013, the discussion surrounding it is still very much alive. To this day, fans keep finding new, hilarious Easter eggs in the show.

The more than 750,000 diehards who come together on r/DunderMifflin to chat about the program are experts at pointing out the hidden details they pick up mid-rewatch. 

We've compiled 23 of the best. Find out how well you really know your stuff.

SEE ALSO: The 65 absolute best moments from 'The Office'

1. David Wallace *also* has a world's best boss mug

If you thought Michael Scott was the sole best boss in the world, you're wrong! At least according to the desk mugs ...

Turns out David Wallace, chief financial officer of Dunder Mifflin, has a World's Best Boss mug on his desk, too. It's visible in the Season 2 episode, "Valentine's Day." It's black and has a more obnoxious font than Michael's. It's unclear whether David Wallace bought his own mug.

Will the real World's Best Boss please stand up? Oh look, it's Michael!

Image: the office/netflix

2. Michael uses his own brand of salad dressing

In the second episode of Season 4, Michael and Jan are chatting about ageism in his office while eating salads. Everything seems normal until you look closely: The salad dressing on the table is Michael Scott's own personal brand, "Great Scott."

Great Scott!

Image: the office/netflix

The jar is adorned with a homemade label featuring Michael's face and a bowl of salad. Thanks to a deleted scene from the previous episode, "Fun Run," we know all about it. 

"What do I look like to you, Paul Newman? That's actually not a good example, because I have been compared to a young Paul Newman, my eyes and my face. And I make my own salad dressing," Michael says in the deleted scene, which starts around 4:10. "I mix Newman's Ranch with Newman's Italian. Sell it at flea markets for a slight loss. I could make ... I could make a profit if I changed one of the ingredients to Wishbone, but I won't do it."

3. That Dunder Mifflin Newsletter was trolling us

In Season 1, Episode 4, viewers get a glimpse of an old Dunder Mifflin Employee Newsletter. The Easter egg lies within the text.

In a classic move, the people writing the words didn't take the time to crank out a full article. Rather, they wrote a bit of sensical information followed by absolutely anything.

"A lot of useless information"

Image: the office/netflix

"Welcome to yet another exciting edition of the Dunder Mifflin Employee Newsletter," the article begins quite reasonably. But by the second paragraph, things get meta.

"As anybody can easily tell, this newsletter doesn't really have a lot to say. It's really just a prop to fill some space and sort of look like a newsletter without really being much of a newsletter at all ... In fact, at times we can probably get away with not using real English words, such as kjgavbiwiwpo..."

This isn't even the only time The Office writers did this. Now you know!

4. Jim signs Meredith's pelvis cast "John Krasinski"

Remember when Michael hit Meredith with his car and she had to get a cast on her pelvis? John Krasinski does! Because in Season 4, Episode 3, he signed it ... as himself, not his character Jim Halpert! Whoops.

Hmm ...

Image: the office/netflix

5. Stanley's resolution was, um, telling

In "Gossip," the first episode of Season 6, Dunder Mifflin Scranton learns Stanley's been cheating on his wife, Teri, with some woman named Cynthia. In Season 7, Episode 13, it's crystal clear that hasn't changed. Stanley's resolution card literally says, "To be a better husband and boyfriend." Boy, have you lost your damn mind?

To be fair, everyone's resolutions are a lot.

Image: the office/netflix

6. Oscar's drinkin' prop wine

Oscar was so excited to drink the wine in Season 8, Episode 12, no one realized the prop label was still on the bottom of the bottle. If you pause the episode you can clearly see a piece of tape with the word "Oscar" on that bottle of, um, Chateau Galmon?

"I am Bacchus, God of wine!"

Image: the office/netflix

7. Michael keeps his broken plasma on the wall for a while

Michael and Jan broke up after all hell broke lose in the Season 4 episode, "Dinner Party," but he held onto a key reminder of his ex well into Season 5.

In "Dream Team," Pam visits Michael's place to start the Michael Scott Paper Company, and his pride and joy — the mini plasma TV Jan shattered by throwing a Dundie Award at it — is still mounted on the wall. The most hilarious part of the situation? Michael clearly got a new television, which he placed directly under the broken flatscreen, neglecting to trash the old one. 

Could it be he wasn't ready to let go — or that Jan mounted it on the wall and he had no idea how to take it down? We may never know.

Two TVs ...

Image: the office/netflix

8. He then attempts to sell the broken plasma

Finally, in "Garage Sale," Episode 19, of Season 7, Michael is finally ready to part with his tiny broken plasma. But rather than throw it out, he attempts to SELL IT at the warehouse garage sale. Come on, dude.

Nope.

Image: the office/netflix

9. Return of the clown art

Speaking of that warehouse garage sale, another familiar object was for being sold: That creepy clown painting that used to be stuck to the walls of Jim and Pam's house (aka, Jim's parent's old house). Wonder how they finally got it off the wall ...

No one will buy that clown painting.

Image: the office/netflix

10. Bob Vance was possibly a marketing genius

Any fan of The Office knows that Phyllis' husband, Bob Vance (of Vance Refrigeration), loves to plug his business whenever he gets the chance. 

But one theory considers the idea that Bob Vance wasn't simply trying to market Vance Refrigeration to Dunder Mifflin employees — instead, perhaps he was constantly repeating his company name for the cameras filming the Dunder Mifflin documentary in hopes that if the footage ever aired it'd be free advertising. Genius.

11. Michael ate tiramisu from the trash

This one's kind of a long story, but in Season 5, Episode 10, Jim gives Pam a piece of tiramisu as a peace offering after going out to lunch with Michael.

Pam rejects the offering and throws the tiramisu away, but in a later scene we see Michael eating a piece of tiramisu at his desk. Though some speculate Michael also brought tiramisu back from the restaurant, he's seen walking into the office alongside from Jim empty-handed and even claps at a joke.

Michael later takes a shot at Pam, scolding her for throwing away "perfectly good tiramisu" just because it has a hair on it, so all signs point to him digging Pam's dessert out of the trash.

12. This extremely deep paper clip find

In Season 5, Episode 1, Michael introduces Pam to the office's replacement receptionist, Ronnie, via video chat, explaining that Ronnie is unable to find "those little colored paper clips" he likes so much.

Somehow, an Easter egg mastermind discovered that Jim and Pam's license plate, CHD-0032, is the model number for those clips Michael likes. (If you Google the plate number, they come up.) 

13. Jim's title in Stamford was "Assistant Regional Manager"

Dwight spent season after season begging for the title "Assistant Regional Manager" instead of "Assistant to the Regional Manager," and all Jim had to do to get it was transfer to the Stamford branch. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In Season 3, Episode 6, Jim falls asleep at his desk, and we get a peek at that nameplate, baby!

The real deal

Image: the office/netflix

14. Creed's fake name is the actor's real name

In Season 4, Episode 4, Creed Bratton — the character on The Office played by actor Creed Bratton — explained that whenever he gets into financial trouble, he transfers his debt to a man named "William Charles Schneider." Turns out William Charles Schneider is actor Creed's real name, and there's a good chance that's his real passport.

15. Michael's wallet looks like a '90s DIY project

Does Michael Gary Scott carry around a bedazzled wallet? That's absolutely what it looks like...

16. Jim wears a wig in Season 3

John Krasinski's received some feedback on Jim's floppy hair over the years, but if things looked a little off in Season 3, it wasn't his fault.

Krasinski had to cut his hair short for his role in the film Leatherheads, which gave him no choice but to wear a wig during the last six episodes of The Office's third season. Krasinski further explains his hair challenges in this interview starting at around 2:15.

Wig Tuna

Image: the office/netflix

17. St. Patrick's Day celebrations were lit

Season 6, Episode 19 is dedicated to St. Patrick's Day, and the office really goes all out. For example, did you notice Michael has an Italian flag on his desk instead of an Irish one, or that they dyed the water in the community water cooler green? LOL.

The closest the Irish get to Christmas

Image: the office/netflix

Image: the office/netflix

18. Andy's Call of Duty username is extremely Andy

Viewers get a glimpse of Andy playing Call of Duty in Season 3, Episode 5 of the show. If you look closely you'll see his username is a very fitting "Here Comes Treble" — named after his college a cappella group, who we later hear about in the Season 9 episode, "Here Comes Treble."

Image: the office/netflix

19. Creed possibly has a mugshot hanging at his desk

Does Creed casually have his mugshot hanging above his desk? Honestly, we wouldn't put it past him.

20. Jim's last name is misspelled on his wedding sign

Congrats to Pam Beesly and Jim HalpRET on their wedding. Was this a typo or an intentional joke? We can't keep track anymore.

Hmm...

Image: the office/netflix

21. Wait, who is that?

You know when TV shows like actors so much they bring them back to play other roles in the future? How about when they replace a character with a different actor and expect viewers not to notice or to be totally fine with it? The Office is guilty of doing both of those things.

Image: the office/netflix

Dwight's nephew in the show's final season was also an extra in Season 7's "WUPHF.com" episode. Elizabeth, the stripper hired throughout the course of the show, appeared in the "Ben Franklin," "Fun Run," and "Finale" episodes, yet not everyone seemed to remember her. Andy's parents and Pam's mom were recast throughout the series. And Dwight hired Devon, the employee Michael fired in Season 2, back in the finale.

22. John Krasinski shot the opening Scranton footage

This one's less of a "did you notice?" and more of a "did you know?" but John Krasinski, the man you know and love as Jim Halpert, is semi-responsible for the iconic Office intro. According to TV Guide, Krasinski shot scenes from the opening credits sequence while on a research trip.

23. There's a nod to the UK version of the show

What would the U.S. version of The Office be without a reference to the UK version of the series? 

The address of Dunder Mifflin's Scranton office is 1725 Slough Avenue, Scranton, PA, which is special because there's a town in the UK called Slough, where the UK version of the show just so happens to take place. 

Image: screengrab/google maps

And that's not all. When you search in the Scranton branch's address in Google maps it shows Pennsylvania Paper & Supply Company, the building that's featured in the intro footage, and Poor Richards Pub, the Dunder Mifflin employees' go-to place for Happy Hour.

So there you have it, fans. The writers, cast members, and show runners of your favorite comedy were even more clever than you realized. Now it's time to re-watch the show and see if you can spot any other hidden treasures.

WATCH: What is the cast of ‘The Office’ doing now?

[heavenlyuris]

Lucky 13 - Chapter 4: A Promise To Be Broken

Chapter 3 x Chapter 5

Lucky 13 Official Playlist - Chapter 4 Exclusive Playlist

read on ao3

a/n: this took a while but i hope you guys arent mad about it :’)

Jonathan could see it now.

He never noticed it before, maybe because it wasn’t there, but it definitely was now. He didn’t know how long it had been there, or how powerful it was, but it was there. The connection between Mike and Will was obvious.

At first, he believed Mike spent so much time at their house for El, because Mike was most obviously crushing on his new little sister, he had heard from Nancy about the kiss at the Snow Ball last year, and how enamored the young Wheeler was by Eleven.

But somewhere along the lines, things changed. Recently, actually. He feels as if it was something he should have figured out before. But he didn’t.

To be fair, he was busy. It was December, and the high school had just a week until they were free for Winter Break. Jonathan was stressed. He had to balance school work, his portfolio for NYU, his relationship with Nancy, and his very odd, newfound friendship with Steve Harrington.

It was weird, how easy he got along with Steve when they were not fighting. They had a lot in common, the most odd being a taste in music. It was often that when Nancy was too busy studying to accompany Jonathan to take pictures for his portfolio, then it was Steve that went with him. They would often drive to the street just outside of Derry, park alongside the road, and venture into the treeline for Jonathan to take picture of the wildlife. More often than not, they drove much farther than they needed to, belting out the words to songs from a mixtape Jonathan had brought.

It was one of those times now, they had hadn’t driven at all this time, instead choosing to fight the bitter cold of Derry to snap a few shots of their new hometown. A comfortable silence overcame them as Jonathan trained his camera at the street sign of an intersection. ‘The Corner of Neibolt & Jackson’ Jonathan had written when his camera spit out the picture, he quickly tucked the picture into his bag, turning around and heading forward on Jackson street.

“They’re getting me my own place.” Steve spit out. Jonathan looked at him, eyebrow quirked. “The dudes. They’re paying for an apartment for me.” Jonathan realized that Steve was talking about the government officials overseeing their stay in Derry.

Usually, they didn’t have contact with the government, mostly when they first had moved to Derry. Steve and Billy’s new cars, Hopper’s new job on the Derry Police Force, their houses. It was all consolation, making up for the lives they essentially ruined by allowing Hawkins Lab to do what they did.

“That’s awesome.” Jonathan said, quietly. He didn’t quite know what to say, they didn’t have too many conversations outside scream-singing, or Steve asking why Jonathan chose to ‘snap a picture of that crack needle.’

“Yeah, I’m thinking about having a party on New Years. The kids and us, you know? They need some fun, they’ve all been really on edge since we moved here.” Steve explained.

“Cool.” Jonathan said, fiddling with his camera again, lifting it up to his eye and snapping a picture, making sure it was in focus.

“One of Dustin’s friends said something happened with Will.” Stave said.

Jonathan’s head snapped towards the other man. “What?”

“The little kid, Eddie from across the street. Said he hoped Will was okay after his epileptic episode.”

Jonathan was confused. “What? Will doesn’t have epilepsy.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed this time. “Oh, well they said he had a little bit of an episode in the arcade, so I don’t know, man.” Jonathan’s heart sank. An episode? Could it have been….

-

Max was used to being the only girl.

When she had chased The Party last year, she had been the only girl. Of course, she learned about El, but she wasn’t there then. It was quickly after the gate had been closed and Max and El actually took time to themselves that El realized that Max wasn’t a threat to her.

But it was different when you’re the only girl in a group of friends with 10 other boys. The big group wasn’t able to blend into the walls anymore. People noticed them, noticed that they were exclusive to hanging out with each other. A nickname that the original seven had earned last year apparently stuck, and now Max was the sole female member of the new and improved Loser’s Club of Derry High.

A fact not lost on Gretta Keene, who had made it her personal goal to make Max’s life a living hell since she first laid eyes on her. Max, who was now known as ‘fire-crotch’ or ‘Beaverly 2.0’ did not take too kindly to this.

She was spending the last week before Winter Break on suspension after she had decided that her skateboard was the perfect projectile to launch at Gretta.

She spent most of those days with Eleven, even showing her a couple of things from her homework packets.

“Max…” Eleven’s small voice came from Max’s side.

“Yeah, El?” Max answered.

“I did something bad.”

“What? What did you do?”

“I used my powers.”

“Oh……kay? You do that almost every day. What’s the problem?”

“I used them…..Bill saw.” El was struggling to find the right words, now.

“What? When?”

“92 days ago.” Eleven twiddled her fingers. She then went on to explain the event as best she could. Slowly, Max gathered that while she used her powers in front of Bill, he didn’t actually see her using any kind of powers. And that there was a balloon.

“Well, I think that it’s okay. They haven’t said anything about it, so they can’t know.” Max said, putting her homework into her folders. “Come on, let’s get the board set up.” The Party was having their first D&D campaign as just the six of them for the first time in a while.

El smiled. “Yes. Let’s.”

-

Stan decided there was definitely something up with the six kids from Hawkins.

He thought that as he was sitting on the couch in Bill’s living room. They were all writing letters to Beverly, as they do every month, as a group. Bill and Ben send letters to her nearly every week, but they all kept in touch by sending one as a group to her. They often took that time to write individual letters to her as well.

He thought about her story, what she saw in the lights. He hadn’t told the club that he had seen any lights himself. They simply thought that It had been trying to devour him, but he knew that wasn’t it. That the scars littering his skin were the first step to It’s plan. The images It showed Stan were the second step. Stan knew that following the next steps were all his own choice, but he couldn’t help it.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as a hand softly landed on his shoulder. His eyes followed the hand up an arm, towards a shoulder, and finally up to a pale, lensed face. Richie.

“Stan? It’s your turn to write.” Richie said, holding out the postcard and lined paper to him. Stan took the items from his hands, and quickly signed the post card. He set the lined paper on the table.

Four paragraphs already adorned the paper. Ben’s, Eddie’s, Richie’s, and finally Mike’s. Stan’s was always the fifth paragraph down. Bill liked to end the letters, which he would usually send off to the post office on the groups behalf.

Stan didn’t really want to write anything, but he was able to scrounge up some words about how he missed her, and that high school was way different than middle school (She seemed super, super happy when she found out that Stan had indeed managed to skip 8th grade). Ending it with how he passed his quiz in geometry. He passed the letter lazily to Bill.

Much to his surprise, Bill handed the letter directly to Ben, asking the other boy to seal it and stamp it, he then turned back to Stan, nodding past the other boy to the staircase, then promptly got up, knowing Stan would follow, which he did.

When they were sealed inside of Bill’s room, he turned to Stan. Within only three months, Bill had managed to surpass Stan’s previous reign as tallest loser. Bill steeled his ocean eyes directly into Stan’s. “Wh-what is….what’s the matter?” Bill asked after a moment.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” Stan said, bringing his hands from his hips and folding them over his chest.

Bill mirrored Stan’s pose. “No, s-something is definitely up. You’ve b-barely hung out with m-me since school started. I know th-that th-this s-s-s-“ Bill swallowed thickly. “I know this sss-summer sucked, buh-but I miss spending time w-with you.” Bill stated, now looking at the floor.

Stan should have known this wasn’t some kind of forceful interrogation. Bill was simply worried about him, and missed him. “It’s nothing Bill, really. I mean, of course it’s something, but it’s something I have to push through. This summer, my life changed. All of our lives changed. Now with Dustin and Lucas and them here, I don’t think things are ever gonna be normal again, and you know how that makes me feel.” And Bill did, he knew how much Stan hated change.

“Yeah, I g-guess I sh-should have b-b-been trying harder to hang out with y-y-you, like Richie does.” Bill says, looking even more dejected.

“No, Bill, it’s….it’s not your fault, really. You and Eddie, you guys are still my best friends, I swear. It’s just…Richie is the only other one who I can spent hours with and not have what happened this summer brought up. Richie and his stupid jokes are the only things that feel the same.” Stan says, tears gathering in his eyes.

His stomach jumped as Bill wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist and brought their chests together. Bill waited a few beats, knowing that if Stan didn’t similarly wrap his arms around him then he wasn’t okay with the touch. The tension eased as Stan wrapped his arms around Bill’s shoulders, and they embraced for the first time in months. Bill finally spoke. “I promise..” Bill started, swallowing the stutter that was surely trying to come out. “I promise that I’ll try my best to make things normal for you again. Even if that means making a new normal.” Bill’s arms squeezed a bit at that. “But you have to promise me you’ll try and be okay.”

Stan’s grip almost faltered. He knew it would come to this, knew there would be plenty of lies told. And he prepared himself, he didn’t let his grip loosen, didn’t let the confidence seep out of his voice. “I promise.”

Another promise he was going to break.

-

Finally, snow arrived in Derry.

One day after the school let out for winter break, the ground of Derry was covered in about two inches of the white powder.

And finally, it was time for one of Richie’s favorite events of the year, the Loser Club’s annual snowball fight. It was usually just the original four. Bill and Eddie vs. Richie and Stan. Richie and Stan were currently the reigning champs, and had won the past 3 years. The rules were simple, whichever team was covered in the most snow after an hour lost. Stan being Stan, was naturally good at everything. He had great aim, and was very adept at dodging and weaving.

But now, with the inclusion of Mike and Ben, and the party, there were 12 kids taking part in this years, the teams were a bit different now. They decided that on this first day, it would be The Loser’s Club vs The Party.

Richie looked on with extreme excitement when Mike stepped forward, tall and proud as The Party’s team captain. He looked Richie dead in the eyes, and an entire wave of confusion washed over the whole party when Richie flashed a devious smile, took a few steps back, and let Bill stand in front of Mike.

Bill was, without a doubt, their fearless leader, after all. Richie watched as the two tall boys shook hands, agreeing on a half hours time to prepare for the fight. Snowballs, any defensive structures, and placing of their teams. The fight was taking place in the Barrens, and the Losers’ Club had the home field advantage.

Whenever you’ve been hit with three snowballs, you’re out.

Richie was once again paired with Stan this year, they were a dream team, a dynamic duo, they were unstoppable. Stan hadn’t been hit with a snowball in two years! They were gonna own this, and not without some trash talk from the trash mouth himself!

“Hey Mike! When we kick your ass you gotta let me hook up with your sister, yeah!?” Richie yelled across the stream, towards the other boy.

Mike simply threw a disgusted face and flipped him the bird before running off with the quiet girl, Jane.

Eddie and Ben were making the snowballs, quickly, but making sure there were no rocks lodged inside of them. Bill and Mike were busying themselves by hoisting up sticks and leaning them on the trees, creating a little bit bigger spaces to hide behind, in case of invasion.

Stan and Richie were running down the stream. Stan, the tactical genius that he is, planned that if two of them circled around, not only would they most likely have the element of surprise, but they would avoid being hit in case all six other kids stormed across the river, and they could take them down from the inside out.

“Now, that means you have to keep your trash mouth shut, trashmouth.” Stan instructed as they hurried down the riverbed.

Richie simply smirked, and waited until Stan said it was time to attack.

After waiting what seemed like forever, Stan finally scooped up snow, formed it into a ball, handed it to Richie and made another one for himself. Stan nodded past him and they began to cross the river bed into enemy territory.

Richie couldn’t see anyone except for Stan. It was still snowing lightly, and the boys had a fair amount of snow accumulating in the curls that tuck out from beneath each of their beanies. The snow was not crunchy, and completely diffused any sound their footsteps could make, so they had to keep a sharp eye out for anyone else.

After a fe minutes of walking, Stan grabbed Richie’s wrist and pulled him behind a tree. Richie stared into Stan’s eyes as Stan stared back.

“Get down!” Stan yelled, pulling Richie into a crouching position as three snowballs splattered against the tree where their heads had just been. The two losers sped around the other side of the tree, and dashed opposite of the way that the snowballs had come.

A few minutes of sprinting, and weaving so that they dodged the snowballs that the ones following them threw. Stan and Richie looked at each other, knowing what to do.

Once they hit a familiar clearing, they turned ninety degrees and dashed away from each other. Once right inside the tree line, Richie stopped, ducking behind a tree and peeking out to see his attackers arrive in the clearing.

Dustin and Lucas were the first to show. They each clutched a single snowball, scanning the small clearing in sync. Soon, another body appeared, and MadMax herself walked between the two boys, a devious smirk on her lips and a snowball in each hand. With the snow caught in her long, uncapped hair, she really did look like winter fire.

Richie scooped up snow, rolled two snowballs and counted the seconds.

After exactly 10 seconds, he saw Dustin get beamed right in his head with a snowball, a matching one following soon after in the shoulder. Richie took aim and lobbed one of his at the curly haired boy, hitting him in the chest. He threw the other in his hand at Max, but she noted where the third snowball came from and backed up just in time, the snowball nearly catching her in the head as she sprinted back the way she came.

Lucas was not as in sync with her, as he threw his snowball into the opposite tree line. Richie knew he missed when, with precision, another snowball came sailing out, exploding into powder on his brown jacket. Richie scooped up snow as Lucas did the same. Richie ran out of the trees with a scream, and Lucas whirled around, confused as another snowball came sailing out of the opposite side, beaming him in the head. Richie dealt the last blow with his snowball, and Lucas looked shocked.

Stan waltzed out from the opposite tree line as Dustin and Lucas looked on, dazed and out of the game. Stan wore a smirk as he held out a hand for a high five. Richie enthusiastically raised his own to meet the other boy when he felt the sharp sting of a snowball pelting his back.

Turning around, he saw the red-haired devil herself, smirking, before she turned around and sprinted back into the woods.

Almost immediately, Stan and Richie took off after her, Lucas and Dustin screaming “RUN MAX!” as well.

Following what he believed to be a flicker of red hair, Richie didn’t realize how long he had been running, until he came to a rocky part of the barrens, and realized where he was. The entrance of the sewers lay ahead of him, and a boy stood, staring at the wide open mouth of the entrance, with what looked like the remnants of a snowball hit splattered on his right shoulder

Richie scooped up snow and formed a snowball, slowly stepping towards the boy that he now recognized as Will. Carefully, he spoke. “Hey, don’t you know what hiding means?” He prepared to chuck his snowball, but Will did not turn around, just kept staring at the sewers.

Horrified, Richie lowered his arm and grabbed the other boys shoulders, whirling him around himself. “Will? Are you okay?”

Will’s unfocused eyes now seemingly readjusted, looking at Richie’s face. “What? Yeah I’m-“ He was cut off by a snowball smacking him dead in the face. Whipping his head around, Richie saw a seemingly pissed off Eddie, eyes glaring at the pair.

Richie looked at Will, who was now wiping the snow off of his face, and shrugged, giving him an apologetic look as he lazily lobbed his snowball into Will’s chest, spinning on his heel and running after Eddie.

He spent a while chasing after the shorter boy, who’s seemed to not want anything to do with Richie at the moment, running away from him as if he was the enemy.

Eddie eventually came to a stop in the clearing where he knew their base was, and found it empty.

Or so it seemed.

It was too late by the time he heard Stan screaming “Watch out!”

In almost slow motion, Richie watched as Jane, Mike and Max popped out of their respective hiding spots across the stream, zoning in on the small boy and making their pitches. 1, 2, 3 times the snowballs exploded across Eddie’s body.

Dramatically, Richie was screaming out “No!” Scooping up snow, forming his own projectile, and launching himself into a blind rage as snowballs began flying all around.

He could recall seeing Ben fall to the same strategy that Eddie succumbed to when he scooted too far out from behind their tree defenses. He was almost sure none of his snowballs hit as he was too focused on avenging Eddie’s loss.

He could recount feeling the sting of another snowball as he and Party Mike threw matching hits at each other, the difference being that Mike was pelted shortly after from Stan and Bill.

His eyes could barely focus as his own Mike stepped out, and he could hear two hard hits beat on the bigger boys chest. Mike fell to his knees as the quiet girl Jane landed the killing blow to Mike. He looked over, and could see Max standing directly his opposite across the stream from him, clean of any snowball hits. They matched each others’ movements perfectly as they knelt down and rolled up their snowballs. Max nudged Jane behind a tree and she and Richie maintained eye contact, seeming to will the other to take the first shot.

Just when Max smirked and raise her arm to throw, she did something unexpected, refocusing her aim to someone else, and throwing her snowball with all her force at Stan. Stan stood, obviously not expecting that, as the snowball sailed towards him. It never made contact as Bill stepped in front of the jewish boy, taking a clean hit to the face, what looked like his first one.

Max’s smirk melted off her face when Stan let out a scream and hit her squarely in the face with a snowball of his own. The second snowball came when Richie threw the one forgotten in his hands, the third and final blow coming as revenge from Bill himself, and the redhead fell flat on the ground, out of the game.

Richie, Bill, and Stan all nodded at each other as they scooped up snow, and stalked across the frozen stream towards the last remaining party member left, the quiet girl, Jane.

Jane backed away until she hit a tree, and when the three loser boys primed themselves, wrenched their arms back and proceeded to throw their snowballs in sync, she raised her arm.

There, in the middle of the clearing, the three snowballs floated in mid air. Everyone watched in disbelief as Jane let out a yell, pushed forward with her arm, and the three snowballs flew back at their respective throwers, along with almost all of the snow from tree Jane was leaning against, blanketing the three boys in snow.

No one made any attempt to move at all, instead staring at the quiet girl.

Jane slowly made to wipe the thin trail of blood leaking out of her nose. She looked as if she had been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

A snowball exploded straight in her face.

All heads whizzed toward the direction the snowball had flown from, and standing the edge of the clearing, was a head of fiery hair wrapped in a warm, homemade knit cap.

Beverly Marsh.

She smirked at the eyes staring at her, her own crystalline ones glinting.

“Hey there, Losers.”

tag list: tag list: @stnbrough @sun-kinghanlon @richie-tczier@billbenbev@anymomentanytime@sten-bros @aamw343 @hemmingsathena @toziertrash-mouth@fandomtrash2405@ohheydatsme​ @umlingo @3verything-is-my-aesthetic @basic-internet-trash@grayce-crochet @littlepolypan @alaskancats @80sdenbrough

[ohpedromypedros-main]

Perfect Role

A/N: This was requested by @kittyk4892! I hope you enjoy it! <3

Author: @bill-skarsgard-writings

Word Count: 3,519

Characters: Bill x Reader, Stellan Skarsgård, few minor characters

Pairings: Bill x Reader

Warnings: mentions of insecurities, swearing, fluff

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Summary: The reader and Bill have been best friends for over a decade and in her mind they’ll never be anything more, but when Bill lands his role as Pennywise in the new ‘IT’ adaptation, he decides he wants her to be his date for the premiere as well as something a little more than just friends.

(You will see why I used this gif instead of one where he looks sexy, okay? 😂)

Bill Skarsgård, a man you called your best friend since the two of you were teenagers, but thought you'd never call your boyfriend. You had a crush on Bill the moment you met him, but eventually realized that your crush would be just that. A crush. You believed that it would never become anything more. To you, he was too good for you. Your insecurities always got the best of you. Eating away at the back of your mind every time you were in his presence. You're not good enough for him. He's too attractive for you. As if he'd ever love you. Those were but a few of the thoughts that would fill your mind when you'd spend time with him.

You met Bill when you were 14. He was attending one of his father's movie premieres in LA and your mother, who was there to support Stellan, happened to bring you along that day. Your mom had met Stellan several years before on the set of a film they co-starred in. When she found out that he had a son your age, she suggested they'd have to get together some time to introduce you to each other. But unfortunately, the acting life got in the way of those plans and the introduction never happened. Not until the day of Stellan's movie premiere, 4 years later.

”Y/N, this is Mr. Skarsgård and his son Bill. We'll be attending the film tonight with them.”

”Hi,” you nodded, giving them a shy smile.

”Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. Your mother has talked a lot about you,” Stellan smiled in return.

”Really? Good things, I hope.”

”Nothing but good things,” he let out a soft chuckle before motioning to Bill. ”Bill is your age. I thought maybe you two could chat, get to know each other. Bill needs more friends.”

”I've got plenty of friends, dad. Quit your worrying.”

You giggled quietly, earning a smile from Bill.

”Anyway, don't listen to him. I've got tons of friends. They're all dudes, but they're still friends.”

”I know what you mean. All my friends are female. I've never actually met a guy I can actually click with, ya know?” You smiled.

”Yeah pretty much same here. Every girl I've ever met are either snobby or straight up bitchy.”

”Language,” Stellan warned.

Bill cleared his throat, avoiding his father's eyes. ”Sorry,” he mumbled.

You giggled again, your heart skipping a beat in your chest as he gave you another smile. That was it. The moment that would change your life forever.

You sat in your apartment located in downtown LA, typing away at your computer. You moved to LA a year after graduating high school to attend college, but ended up dropping out to pursue a career in writing. You wrote all sorts of things. Poetry, short stories, but currently you were working on your second novel. Your first novel was a slight success. You sold over 1,000 copies within half a year, which to you was pretty good because most beginners never do that well. Bill was one of your biggest supporters and of course one of your biggest fans. He tried comparing you to Stephen King, but you only laughed and told him that was an over-exaggeration. You knew you'd never be as amazing a writer as Stephen King, but the sole fact that Bill thought you were that good was what made you happy with your work.

Halfway through typing a paragraph you had deleted and rewrote multiples times, your cell phone began to ring. You grabbed it from the drawer of your desk and smiled wide when you saw that Bill was calling.

“Hey, Bill! What's up?”

“Y/N, you will never guess what role I just landed!”

“Uhmm... Is it a porno role?”

“Jesus no,” he laughed, knowing you were joking with him. “A lot better than porn.”

“Well shit, what could be better than that?”

“Let me give you a hint. Stephen King.”

You sat straight up in your chair, eyes widening at the mention of your favorite writer. There was only one Stephen King film you could think of at this very moment, one that had been rumored for months to be remade, but this time, it would be a movie and not a mini series for TV.

“Tell me you were cast in the fucking ‘IT’ movie.”

“Oh I was, but can you guess who I was cast for?”

You sat for a moment thinking of all the possibilities. He couldn't have been cast for any of the Loser's Club kids since he was too old for that. He could have been cast as one of them as an adult, though. But he didn't fit the description to play any of them. It couldn't be them. As you were running through all the possibilities in your head, it slowly, but finally hit you.

“Pennywise?!”

“Yep! Y/N, I'm playing fucking Pennywise in the new ‘IT’ movie.”

“Holy shit!” You screamed, jumping from your chair. “Bill, that is fucking amazing! Do you have any idea how proud I am of you right now?!”

“Oh I figured you would be. By the way,” he paused, silence filling the other end of the phone. You were about to speak when the ring of your door buzzer cut you off. You jumped slightly, walking out of your office to hit the speak button on the speaker system by your front door.

“Yeah?”

“Let me in, ya whack job.”

Bill laughed on the other end and you could only let out a squeal before hitting the door button to allow him entrance to the building. You swung your door open, patiently waiting for him in the doorway so you could greet him with a giant hug. It had been a few months since you last saw Bill and you missed him terribly. Of course the two of you would call and text each other daily, but it was his presence and that gorgeous face of his that you missed the most.

Bill turned the corner of your hallway and gave you the cheesiest grin on Earth. You laughed to yourself and as he finally reached you, threw your arms around him for a long overdue hug.

“Oh I've missed you so much!” You sighed, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“I've missed you too, Butthead.”

You giggled at his nickname for you before pulling back from the hug and motioning inside.

“Come in.”

“Thank you.”

You followed him in and closed the door behind you, a smile beaming on your face.

“I brought some celebratory champagne with me, since ya know, I just landed one of the greatest roles of my career.”

“I hope it's the good shit,” you laughed.

“Oh it is the good shit.”

He turned to you with a smile, pulling a bottle from a brown paper bag and holding up your favorite brand of champagne.

“You're literally the best.”

“I try,” he grinned.

“Let me go grab some glasses. You go take a seat in the living room and I'll be right there.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You bit your lip with a smile, heading into the kitchen to grab two glasses from the cabinet and bringing them out to the living room where Bill was already on the couch opening the bottle. You sat down next to him, handing him a glass, and holding out your own so he could pour you some champagne. After he filled his own glass, he raised it with a smile.

“To new beginnings.”

You grinned widely, holding up your glass and meeting Bill's gaze.

“To new beginnings.”

You clanked your glasses together and took a nice long sip, the clear golden liquid fizzing as it went down your throat. You cringed slightly, shaking the feeling away.

“Jeez, as much as I love this shit, I still can't get used to the feeling of the fizz as it goes down.”

“Yeah that's the only bad part about champagne, otherwise it's pretty damn good.”

You nodded your head, bringing your glass to your lips for another sip before giving Bill a smile.

“So, give me the deets. When does filming start?”

“Soon, actually. It's being filmed in Canada too.”

“Awesome! Do you have any idea what your Pennywise look is going to be yet?”

“Not yet. I think I'm finding out soon, though. They're probably still drawing the design up.”

“I hope it's creepy looking. Can you even be creepy looking?” You laughed.

He gave you this look, a look you hadn't seen him do in several years. His bottom lip came out into a point as his upper lip slightly tucked in, revealing his top teeth. His eyes stayed focused on yours and you bit back a laugh as he did his famous eye thing.

“This is why you're my best friend.”

He laughed softly, creeper status quickly changing to amusement.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, will this be the last time I get to see you before filming starts?” You frowned, setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Bill set his down as well, giving his head a stern shake.

“No. I was actually thinking of having you be on set with me while I film my scenes. I mean, that's if you want to. I figured it would help you out with your writing. Give you some inspiration and stuff.”

A wide grin spread across your face and you threw your arms around Bill's neck for a tight embrace.

“Really?! That sounds amazing! Would it be okay with the director and stuff, though?”

“I've already talked to him. He said it would be nice to have you.”

“Really?” You beamed.

“Mm yep! You can fly out to Canada with me. I'll give you details and everything when the time comes.”

“Sounds great!”

“I suggest you start packing now, though. You're gonna be away from home for quite a while.”

“I'm totally okay with that. I'll be with you.”

He chuckled softly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Love you, Butthead.”

“Love you too,” you grinned.

Filming for ‘IT’ went spectacular. From what you were able to see, Bill did an amazing job playing Pennywise and the wardrobe they chose was certainly fitting for Bill's portrayal of him. After they wrapped up with the filming, you and Bill headed back to LA together. You could tell he was super stoked for the premiere of the movie and of course, you were too. You loved the original with Tim Curry, but you always wanted a darker film. One that was as dark, if not more dark than the book. You were a huge horror buff, as everyone could tell by your novel and several of your short stories, and you strived to be as good as Stephen King. You knew it wouldn't happen. In your mind, no one could ever be as good as the King himself, but one could only hope.

The premiere for ‘IT’ was nearing and Bill had been planning to ask you to be his date for the showing. He had a lot planned, actually. You were just completely oblivious to it all. Currently you were out helping him find something to wear to the premiere. You knew Bill had a unique and interesting fashion style, so you tried to find things more down his alley when you helped him look.

“I think you should look for something to wear as well since we're already out.”

You tilted your head confused, having no idea why he was telling you to look for something to wear. You weren't going to the premiere, or so you thought.

“Why would I need something to wear?” You asked, grabbing a vest and holding it up to show him, receiving a cringe in return.

“Because I want you to be my date to the premiere,” he replied, picking up a vest and observing it before putting it back in its spot.

You snapped your gaze up from the rack of vests, your heart suddenly pounding against your chest. If he weren't all the way on the other side of the rack, you were sure he'd hear the pounding himself.

“W-what? Me? Why? I'm sure there are prettier girls out there that you could bring. I'm surely nothing special.”

He lowered another vest he was looking at, a frown forming on his face at your comment. He sighed softly, setting the vest back where it sat before he grabbed it and walked around to stand in front of you, his hands reaching to cup your cheeks. You glanced up at him, a blush already beginning to burn across your face.

“Because I love you and want you to be there with me. You've been my biggest support throughout this whole thing, I don't want anyone else to experience this with me.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times before finally getting your words out, but they only came out above a whisper.

“Y-you love me?”

Bill had never said the entire “I love you” to you before. It was always “love you” or “love ya” in the way an opposite sex best friend would say. Bill looked down at you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he gave you a smile.

“I've loved you from the moment I met you, Y/N. I've just always been afraid that I wasn't good enough for you.”

“That's funny, because that's exactly how it is for me.”

He quirked his head sideways, one eyebrow quirked as if to say “Really?”

“Bill, have you ever taken a good look at yourself? Inside and out? Everything about you is beyond perfect, but when I look at myself I see quite the opposite. I see someone that would never have a chance with Bill Skarsgård.”

“You're perfect to me. In every way possible. You're beautiful, funny, courageous, talented, spunky, outgoing. I could go on, trust me I could.”

“But--”

“Shh,” he hushed you with a press of his thumb against your lips, moving it to gently trace your bottom lip. “Don't say another negative thing about yourself, please. I love you, Y/N. Just the way you are.”

“I... I love you too, Bill.”

You looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears that began to form from the sudden burst of happiness flowing through you. Bill wiped away a tear that fell, a soft smile forming on his lips. He knew they were tears of happiness, not sad tears. A sudden wave of confidence washed over him and he leaned down to press his lips to yours, moving them in such a passionate, loving way that it took your breath away. You stepped closer to him, reaching one of your hands up to rest against his cheek, your lips moving in sync with his. After several seconds you both had to break the kiss to catch your breath, leaning your foreheads against one another.

“Y/N...” Bill whispered, eyes locking on yours.

“Yes?”

“I've... I've been wanting to ask you this for many, many years.”

You bit your lip, already having an idea of what he was about to ask you.

“Will you be my girl? My partner in crime? The woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with?”

You nodded your head rapidly, a happy sob escaping your lips.

“Yes, Bill, I will!”

He sighed in relief, pulling you in for another kiss.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw.

“I love you too,” you blushed. “So shall we continue searching for something to wear for the premiere of your biggest movie yet?”

“That would probably be a good idea,” he chuckled.

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before moving to sift through the rest of the vests on the rack. Eventually, you came across an orange-poppy and blue colored zigzag printed vest and held it up, a questioning look in your eyes. He gave you a wide grin, nodding his head.

“Yes. That's it, that's the one. I already even have a shirt to wear with it.”

“Perfect! I'm glad you like my choice,” you giggled.

“Mmhm. Now it's time to find a dress for you to wear. Nothing too fancy, but something that will blow everyone away by your beauty.”

“And that sorta matches what you're wearing?”

“Maybe color wise,” he chuckled.

You smiled, walking back over to him to hand him the vest.

“Shall I check out the dress section while you buy your vest?”

“Yeah, see if you can find anything that'll go with the colors. If there's nothing here, there are plenty of other shops we can check out.”

“Sounds good to me,” you grinned.

You headed for the dress section, looking through all the dresses in your size, but nothing really caught your attention. You let out a defeated huff, walking over to where Bill was just finishing up at the register.

“No luck?”

You shook your head with a sigh.

“That's alright. We have plenty of other places to check.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

The two of you left the shop and headed for another one. It took you several shops before you finally found the perfect dress. You brought it over to Bill, a wide grin on your face.

“How's this? I think it matches perfectly with the orange color in your vest. At least I think it's orange...” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I'd say it's some sort of a poppy-like orange, yeah,” he chuckled. “But yes I think it'll work. It'll give a little more emphasis to my outfit when you're next to me.”

“Perfect!” You squealed, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “I'll go buy this now.”

“Okay babe,” he chuckled, pecking your lips.

You walked over to the front register, handing the dress to the cashier behind the counter.

“Beautiful dress,” she smiled. “What's the special occasion?”

“A movie premiere,” you grinned. “My boyfriend's new movie is hitting theaters next month, but I get to go with him for the premiere of it.”

Just the thought of Bill finally being your boyfriend made you sigh happily. This was a day you always dreamed of, but never thought would actually come true.

“That sounds wonderful. I'm sure you'll have a great time.”

“Yeah! I'm excited for him,” you smiled, handing her your credit card so she could run it through.

Bill walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You smiled up at him, resting your head against his chest. The cashier handed you your card back and stared up at Bill.

“Well, you failed to mention that your boyfriend is Bill Skarsgård.”

“Oh,” you giggled softly. “Sorry.”

“That's okay. I'm sorry, I'm just a big fan. You were amazing in Hemlock Grove.”

“Thank you! That means a lot,” he grinned. “Here.”

He grabbed a blank piece of paper that sat on the counter and signed it with a pen from his back pocket. The cashier's eyes brightened up and a huge smile crossed her face.

“Wow! Thank you so much!”

“No problem at all. Keep that in a safe place,” he winked.

She nodded happily, handing you your dress which she placed in a bag, as well as your receipt.

“Thank you!” You beamed, taking Bill's hand in yours and walking with him out of the store. You made your way back to his car and placed both your bags in the trunk. You couldn't wait to wear the dress to the premiere. You knew already that you were going to look amazing in it, but all you cared about was how Bill looked at you while you wore it. “I can't wait for the premiere. It's going to be a great night, I just know it.”

“It's going to be a great night because you're going to be there to experience it with me,” he added.

You blushed, reaching to grab his hand once more.

“I love you, Bill.”

“I love you too, Y/N. More than you could ever imagine.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, lightly brushing them against your knuckles. A content sigh escaped your own lips and all you wanted was for this moment to last forever, which in your mind, it would.

Bill x Reader tags: @everyday-imfangirling @weak-aesthetic @skarsgardtrash @sebbystanxbuckybarnes @thebeautyandthatbass @mahomie-sara-9-84 @negansgrimes @thealpacarulerwhoisamooselord @baileystorm17 @itamenherzednan @first-jumper-tris46 @the-fandom-phantom-fanfics @mango3o7 @elizabethkatarina

Everything tags: @cecesunshine-fanfictions @this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms @scarlett-lehane @jughead-wuz-here @bluebird19

[tastesoftamriel]

A shortcut (a long tale by Talviel)

Morndas, 12th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 208. After my brief trip to Soltsheim and Blacklight with Lisandre, I immediately set west to uncover the territory I had left behind the year before. I had managed to cover Hammerfell’s main towns and cities, albeit briefly, and decided that I would spend some time in High Rock first instead of backtracking. It would take me over a month if I were to cross Skyrim into Jehanna or Evermore, which was the most straightforward route. However, I was disgruntled by the prospect of crossing Skyrim again, and the potential delays that would occur when word of my return would inevitably spread. There would have to be a quicker, more experimental way to travel, that I had gotten ideas from after spending time around the Dunmer. It wasn’t necessarily a good idea, but I was never good at coming up with those to begin with.

I picked Roach up from the Windhelm stables, who had done a good job of keeping her warm and fed while I was away. She grunted as I saddled her up, annoyed to be disturbed from her comfortable winter’s rest. Pulling my hood up against the snow falling in relentless whirls from the sky, I guided us on the day and a half journey north to the College of Winterhold. During the Dragon Crisis, I had received a message from the College pleading for my help in dispatching a Thalmor mage who had tried to infiltrate them and harness the power of an artifact called the Eye of Magnus. Having no magical aptitude beyond the Thu'um, I managed to take him down with a fair bit of shouting that left me winded for days after. I never stuck around to figure out what had happened after that, as I was too concerned with dragons and never had much of a care for learning magic to begin with. This was my first time coming back to Winterhold since then, and I was expecting a confused welcome.

Indeed, Tolfdir, the Master Wizard, looked puzzled when I trotted up to the main gate of the College. “Greetings, Dragonborn. What brings you to us? Have you finally decided to give magic a try after your little trial with that horrible Eye of Magnus incident?” He asked, helping me to dismount. “Greetings, Tolfdir. I suppose I am going to try my hand out at magic, in a way of sorts. But it’s your assistance I’ll be needing, because I don’t think turning myself and my horse inside out on your porch is the best idea since the only thing I’m capable of is the Candlelight spell.” The old mage raised an eyebrow. “Yes, turning yourself inside out would be quite a loss for all of Skyrim, but I don’t quite see how or why you would be doing that. What help do you need, my friend?” I rummaged through my satchel and pulled out a small but hefty tome that I had haggled out of a merchant in the Blacklight markets, and handed it to Tolfdir. His face lit up as he flicked through the pages. “Fantastic! A real Telvanni wizard’s spellbook! This will be an invaluable asset to the College and I’m sure Urag Gro-Shub would be delighted to add this to the library. But I’m guessing that this is payment for what you need.” “Please, Tolfdir, call it a favour. I know you also worship Talos so that makes at least two of us in Winterhold who are glad that Skyrim is free from one less Thalmor agent. I just came back from Morrowind and am in a bit of a rush to get to High Rock, and I hear that there’s a teleportation spell that can get me there in the blink of an eye. If you could do that for me, I’d be most grateful and the book is all yours.”

Tolfdir looked thoughtful. “Well, that is indeed an unusual request. Teleportation is definitely possible, but you’ll need to convince the Arch Mage, not me. It’s used strictly to go between the Synods and for private use by some houses across Tamriel, and as far as I know nobody but the most senior members are allowed to use it as it is a most volatile spell indeed. For those unaccustomed to teleportation, I’ve heard that at the very least you’ll be nauseous for a while and at worst you’ll disappear without a trace off the face of Nirn altogether! As much as it may disappoint you to hear, spending a few weeks in the saddle would be far preferable to any of the consequences that may await you should you wish to attempt to travel that way, but ultimately it is up to the Arch Mage to decide. Which, come to think of it, shows that you’re far more cunning than you present yourself to be, Dragonborn, since I’m sure that you’ve actually come with this Telvanni tome as a bribe of sorts.” He grinned. Brelyna Maryon, who had gone from being a star pupil to the Arch Mage of the College, was said to be a descendant of House Telvanni. “Alright, come on, I’ll bring you upstairs.”

Brelyna was in her chambers, engrossed in a large book written in a strange script I didn’t recognise. She didn’t lift her head when we walked in, and Tolfdir and I stood in awkward silence as she finished scanning a paragraph. Finally, she sighed and stood up, and jumped to attention when she saw me. “Goodness, Talviel of Riften! What a surprise and an honour! What brings you to us today?” We exchanged pleasantries, and I elbowed Tolfdir to explain my mad plan as his standing as Master Wizard would be far more persuasive than I, an outsider. When he was done talking, Brelyna stood there looking shell-shocked.

“Well, this is certainly the highlight of my day, Dragonborn. As you know, the College of Winterhold is an independent organisation and we haven’t used a teleportation spell in who knows how long. Are you sure you want to risk this? I can certainly attempt the spell, but I won’t be held responsible if something goes wrong.” “I’m all for an adventure, Brelyna. And so is Roach.” “Roach?! You mean for me to teleport your horse as well?” “Think of it as practice. And here’s something for your troubles, of course.” I shrugged, and handed her the Telvanni spellbook. She eagerly grabbed it from my hands, but looked worried. “This isn’t about the payment, Dragonborn. This is about the risk, and I’m not sure if I, or anyone else for that matter, should be attempting this. It’s seriously advanced magic and definitely dangerous. Remember the time I turned you green, and then into a cow and a horse and a dog? I really wish you’d just get on that horse and head west the conventional way. In fact, why don’t you just summon a dragon to fly you over instead?” “Come on, this will be fun! You can even gather the students to watch this as a demonstration!” I cajoled her, hoping to change her mind because by now I was looking forward to this to the point that I could practically hear Brynjolf swearing at me in the back of my mind.

Within an hour, I stood in the main courtyard with Roach next to Brelyna and Tolfdir, surrounded by excited pupils and lecturers alike. The air was steamy with the chatter of people eager to see the Arch Mage perform one of the most legendary spells around, especially on the clearly insane Dragonborn who had convinced her to do this in the first place. Brelyna raised her hands for silence, and a hush fell over the crowd. “Now, I’m going to say this once: this is a highly advanced spell that has not been practiced in Skyrim in at least a century or more. I am grateful that Talviel here has placed her trust in me, but until I can rest on the knowledge that this experiment has gone safely and successfully, nobody, including myself, is permitted to attempt this. Breaking this rule will result in swift disciplinary action, which can include dismissal from the College altogether. Are we clear?” Nods rippled through the crowd, and Brelyna sighed, raising her arms into the air, her gloved hands shimmering faintly. “Alright, here goes nothing. Everyone please stand back.” The air crackled with magical energy, and a loud roar shook the courtyard as she brought her arms down, casting the spell onto the ground. A large portal had opened in front of us, rippling blue with nothing but blackness beyond. Roach whinnied with alarm and I calmed her with Kyne’s Peace, though I felt jittery enough to puke myself.

I took the reins and stepped towards the portal, all eyes fixed on me. “Well, if this goes well you all should receive a postcard from me when I get to Shornhelm!” I joked, hoping to mask the quavering in my voice. “Talos be with you, Dragonborn.” Tolfdir said, clapping me on the shoulder. I nodded, my hand unconsciously going to the amulet around my neck. “Thanks, Brelyna. I’ll let you know when I arrive in High Rock.” “I still think you’re absolutely mad, but I applaud your bravery and dedication to the practice of magic. Safe travels, Talviel.” Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I jumped into the saddle and spurred Roach on into the whirling black mass ahead, feeling a hot wind pull us into its depths. I winced- it reminded me of getting pulled into Apocrypha by Hermaeus Mora’s slimy tentacles. Slowly, the roaring subsided, and we stepped out into daylight. Success! The spell had worked! Sort of.

Before I even had the chance to glance around, Roach reared and kicked me from the saddle, dashing off. This alone was a problem, but for me, it was a lot worse. The portal had opened directly onto the lip of a cliff, and the only way forward was down. Screaming and grabbing at thin air, I cursed myself and the portal and hoped that death would be quick and painless. Luckily for me, death was not on the menu that day. Unluckily, the fall was not painless. I plummeted right into the cold open ocean, hurting from the slap of the water and spluttering from the sting of salt in my eyes and mouth. I forced myself to calm down, treading water and trying to gain my bearings. Behind me was the craggy rock of the cliff I had taken my dive from, and on all three sides there was nothing but blue sky and rolling waves. Not a boat in sight, nor any indication as to where I’d been dropped. “I hate portals.” I muttered, swimming my way towards the cliff and following it along its edge in the hopes that it would lead me to dry land.