#(( though give your character a reason to visit the manor if they don't live there ))

[yuriko-mukami]

Based on the Misunderstanding interaction with @mukami-kuron-mrsadisticcat

Sinking...

Yuriko gasped as tears ran down her cheeks. Her legs shook for a moment before giving in, making her slide into the sitting position in the hallway of the silent manor. Not even footsteps reached her ears anymore. Only the echoes of the sudden rage remained, haunting her thoughts, for she did not understand what she had done wrong. How could a single friendly question flip the whole situation upside down?

Burying her face to her knees, Yuriko shivered. She tried to swallow the tears, to hold back, but the more she fought back, the more sobs shook her shoulders as her mind sank into a whirlpool of dark thoughts.

Maybe she would be rejected in this family too? Maybe it didn't matter how much she tried... how well she tried to do. It could be that one by one the members of the Mukami family would push her away, even though she was trying her very best to make everyone feel good around her.

What if... what if they would end up hating her? Where could she even go? She didn't have another home... This was the place she belonged. She had left everything behind to live with Ruki and the other Mukamis... but... now... Had she done a wrong thing?

I didn't mean to pry... I wasn't going to compare... Why...? Why? Why does Kuron not see it? And why is he so mean about Ruki? He said so terrible things...

Quivering sobs filled the air of the hallway as Yuriko wrapped her arms around her body, swaying herself back and forth as if the movement could give her the support she was yearning for. Was there anything she could have done differently? Anything she could do now to change the turn of events for the better?

No... She would not dare to approach Kuron again right now. There was no way... Perhaps later... or not. Maybe he hated her because she had... tried to be... friendly...

I can't understand... I just can't... What did I do wrong? It's like with Dad. I always tried but he just... Nothing was ever good enough. Was Dad right? Maybe I'm worth nothing... a mere nuisance. Will I ever be accepted?

Yuriko should probably have gotten up and roamed to her own room but she couldn't make her legs move at the moment. And... in the end... what did it even matter if she just stayed here. Was there even anyone else around...?

[monsoonblooms12]

Christmas with the Waverleys ❄️: Part I

A/N: Hi, how is everyone doing💫💛? So I really wanted to do something for the Holidays and this is what I came up with. Writing this was a really joyful process, so I really hope that this brings a smile on your face💛 

If you enjoyed the story, please like, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going 💕

Thank you so very much @caseyvalentineramsey for prereading and @jamespotterthefirst for prereading and helping me up with the editing. You guys are life-savers and I love you💛💛

Characters: For this part, the characters are my OH MC(Dr. Pooja Sharma) and OH F!OC (Dr. Alexandra Walton)

Word Count: 1467

Rating: General

Prompts :-

CFWC(@choicesficwriterscreations) Winter Season Prompt #6: Character A doesn’t like the holidays. B loves it. Will B try to find out why or convince A to celebrate it?

@wackydrabbles #74 (Will appear in bold): What do you want me to say?

@choicesdecemberchallenge​ Day 23: Friendship

December 23rd

The riffling of sheets, concomitant typing on the keyboard and the gentle tapping of a blue ballpoint pen.

Aha! Here it is!

The dainty curling up of her lips purported that her quest had been prosperous.

The young girl let down her brunette hair as the muffled voices of Boston's December traffic infiltrating the quiet beige Living room subserved as a token of the celebratory season.

With balmy footfalls, she went to the bay windows of her residence, moving the white satin draperies and looked down to the provocative streets.

Festivals. Gaieties. They were not her thing.

For her, they were needless gatherings, wastage of capital and time.

Christmas, New Year, never held much of a significance in her life.

No matter how much she relished seeing all the people fortified with holiday disposition, she never aspired to be one of them.

Engrossed in thoughts, she nearly plummeted at the unforeseen chime of the doorbell.

A deep breath.

Another one.

And another.

And the abrupt adrenaline rush faded past as she reacquired her equanimity.

An agile glance at the wooden digital timekeeper on the davenport told her that it was 10:30 in the morning.

Mmm-hmm.

An unlikely time for someone to visit.

Must be some parcel posts.

Moving to the door, she clemently swivelled the knob and-

"LEX!"

"Poo?"

Alex was comprehensively purblind as to why Pooja would have come here at 10:30 am, groomed as if she was the anthropomorphism of celebratory spirit.

Not acknowledging her interrogating glimpses, Pooja went inside. Alex accompanied.

And then, Pooja's eyes fell on the vademecum and jotter sitting on the settee.

Hmmm, so they are my rivals.

"Poo? What's the matter? Has something goofed?"

Alex still had no ounce of idea about all that was transpiring.

"IS SOMETHING WRONG? Lex, EVERYTHING IS WRONG!"

Pooja roared as she denoted towards the current occupants of the couch.

"What is wrong with my manual?"

"Lex, ITS CHRISTMASTIDE! You, sitting here and swotting is Inequity!"

"Poo-"

Pooja held up a hand to prevent her from proceeding further. She knew unequivocally what Lex was going to utter. That she shunned celebrations. All this was a waste and the record of criticisms moving on & on.

She had endured her overtures the prevenient time.

But this time? This time, circumstances would change. Alexandra Walton would be carousing Christmas, no matter how absurd it appeared.

"Lex. I understand, okay. I know you loathe fiestas. But-"

"Now don't begin convincing me and convert to a walking, talking book of 101 reasons to savour festivities."

Nah.

This wasn't going to work. Even if she convinced her, she knew better that she would not heed in.

So, what to do now? Hmmm…

Pooja's mind went back to the discussion she had the previous night.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Of course not! Look!"

The Portrayal of Numerous ocular evidence of the case were placed in front of her.

"So, you're stating that she is here, in Boston and that all this is gonna work?"

"Exactly! Believe me, Poo, you will not regret it. Just give it a try!"

This was the only alternative. She ought to do it. It seems implausible, but the stuff she saw with her optics, felt versus her skin, couldn't be a deceit, could it?

"I need a promise."

"Promise? Wow! What a marvellous way of pressuring me into all this."

Alex substantially scoffed. Pooja lightly smacked her forehead.

"Why did you do it?"

Alex produced a perfect faux crybaby face as she tended to her point of the hit.

"You killed my Lil Lil forehead cells!"

Pooja scarcely restrained her chuckle as she set up the stern big-sister facade,

"Just shut up and listen first. I demand you to promise me that you will go with me somewhere on Christmas Eve."

"On a voyage?"

"No, bimbo! To meet someone."

A pouty face followed. But Pooja's glare was enough to make her regress and concede.

"Fine, Promise. But don't you dare pull me to a holiday funfair. Remember, I can bite."

Alex responded as she unveiled her teeth.

"You won't have to stoop that low" Pooja affirmed while stifling a hearty guffaw.

December 24th

"Are you going to tell me where you are taking me?" Vexation grazed Alex's features.

But her irritation was Pooja's gold. It was one of her reactions which made her laugh hysterically.

"If I die, I will spook you until I am served with 12 boxes of extravagant Walter's White and Pink Chocolate because you are making me do THIS." Alex pointed at the two of them.

"Which, I should make it clear, you won't get. 'Cause you won't die. Also, If means?"

"No, like I mean, subsequently we all will die, but before that, we will become top tier doctors, make millions, eat chocolates."

"We will get husbands" Pooja added to the list.

"They will die"

This earned Alex a scowl from her best friend.

"Then we would be sitting in our opulent houses and would be promoting golden dentures on our Pictogram."

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"And then we will die. We will be in heaven and do the Hippity-Hop dance with our already-in-heaven husbands", And the two of them laughed like crazy. Passers-by gave them side glances, most of them presuming they both had gone mad, but the two couldn't bother less.

After a little while, they reached in front of a modest house. Entering through the small copper-coloured gate, they peered around.

It posed an explicit opposition to the modern peculiarities of Boston. The place was serene. The garden surrounding the humble stone-exterior dwelling was immaculate and well-kept. The two of them went towards the white gate and pressed the doorbell.

Seconds later, an elderly lady opened the door.

"Hi, I am Pooja. And this is Alexandra" She introduced the two of them.

"Of course, please get in sweetheart. I have been expecting you." The lady gave a friendly smile and motioned the two of them to come in.

While entering, Alex tugged at Pooja's sleeve, dragging her back.

Keeping her voice as faint as plausible, she spoke, "Why did you bring me here? To discover how to make gingerbread?"

Pooja almost let out a tee-hee and gave her a warning look.

"What do you want me to say? You dragged me out of my cozy blanket and summery dreams to learn how to make gingerbread!"

Lightly hitting Alex's forehead, she jokingly admonished "Shut up Lex! Just wait and watch."

And then they followed the lady to a dim room.

In the core of the room, stood a circle table, encompassing which, three obsolescent chairs were orderly arranged.

Several aromatic candles blazed the shadowy nooks. Various shelves positioned on the walls with articles they couldn't recognize due to the gloom.

They were motioned to take a seat on the chairs.

"So, Miss Pooja! I am so overwhelmed to have you and your friend with me! I am very certain, that the forthcoming journey will be a once in a lifetime venture." The lady's grin revealed two blank spaces in her teeth.

"You have planned everything for us?" Even though they had talked beforehand, Pooja still felt a bit dubious. What is something went awry?

No. 

She halted the train of thought. What ifs are endless. Trust yourself, everything that happens will be for the best.

"Yes, dear. Your request was the loveliest. And I have planned to make everything accurate, just the way you want."

At her words, the tension heaving down on Pooja dissipated.

"Now, both of you lay your hands on the table and relax. Don't ask any questions, Don't have any concerns. Just follow my statements and repeat the words I chant after me."

They both followed. Relaxing, for Alex, was hard, but for her twisted sister, she tried her best and finally calmed down.

The lady began. "Relax. All the arrangements are made. I am sending both of you to the Braidwood Manor, where the Waverleys live. You both are getting a chance to experience Christmas as it was celebrated nearly a century and a half ago. You both will reach London in the 1880s. Take a deep breath"

It felt like someone had cast a spell on them. They both followed all the words, all the instructions wordlessly. As said, they took a deep breath.

"Very Good! Now repeat the words after me. Try to remember them. I am sending you both in the past for a day but in case you wanna come back earlier, you will need them"

Then the lady tapped her purple-painted fingernail four times on the table and began, "Zahiri Washiki Ra, Zahiri Washiki Ma, MaRa LaYa Ma."

Both of them repeated. The gloomy room echoed with the words.

ZAHIRI WASHIKI RA, ZAHIRI WASHIKI MA, MARA LAYA MA!

PS: That's all for Christmas with the Waverleys Part 1🧡! Part 2 will be up tomorrow.

If you reached till here, please know that I am truly grateful for you🌟 I wish you nothing but happiness and smiles for the Holidays and the coming year❤

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead🧡🧡

[littlemspeachy]

This Conversation is Getting Older and Older

Part Two of You Keep Me Waiting 

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Murder, A character is racist 

Word Count: 3.8K (Yup y’all are getting more to read)

Draco stares at where Hermione was once stood and sighed before muttering a repairing spell that fixes the broken picture frame, then came organizing his notes for Yazmeen while he was out.

"Hey, Draco, it's Yazmeen. I came for your notes on the death eater case," Yazmeen announced, peeking into his office.

Draco shot the younger girl a smile. "Yeah, I was getting them cleaned up for you. I know how much you hate having to work with illegible writing."

She laughs and shakes her head. "It's fine, you're fine. It's other people on this floor I have to worry about. But um.."

Draco looks up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Nevermind, I'll talk to you when you get back."

Draco nods and hands over his revised notes. "Take good care of them. They're the only kind."

"I'm pretty sure that I can read your actual notes. But thank you anyway."

Draco smiles at her and watches her leave before grabbing his things and following after her.

"You know, for such a smart wizard, I came in here easily." She says coldly.

Draco pauses in his living room, unsure how to start the conversation.

"Daphne, I made it sure you could come in."

"You need to sign them," Daphne says, pulling a pen from her purse and setting it down on the divorce papers laid out before her.

"Not before my father dies," He responded, voice tight.

"I don't really care about your feelings about your father, and he's practically a shell of a human anyway. Why do you think he's back at the manor?" She shot back, staring pointedly at Draco.

Draco stays quiet because she's right: His father doesn't do anything but look outside to the garden, and he isn't improving his mother's health either in fact, she's gotten worse because of his father being back/ He was thinking of killing him, but after working in law enforcement he wasn't sure how that was going to work.

"Just sign the papers. This isn't for you; it's for me, so get over yourself." Her voice annoyed at how long this situation was taking her.

He sighs because she was right: He was being selfish. Making them stay married even though they haven't been in the same room for longer than 10 minutes in the past 8 years unless it was an event that was centered around his mother. So he walks over to sign the papers.

"Your mother misses you, you know, and she wants an explanation."

Draco pauses the signing of his last mane to look at the woman in front of him before he goes back to signing his last name.

"I don't know why you continue to visit her."

"Because at least one of us to maintain the image of a proper person. We all can't go running around like children on the playground."

Draco rolls his eyes equally as annoyed at his now ex-wife. "Listen, here're the documents, just send me an owl with a court date, and I'll make sure to be there."

Daphne just sighed and slipped the papers into her purse, and leaves through the front door. "You need to talk to her. Also, I poured out the tea. It was getting old.

Draco simply stares at her leaving, leaving his house and his life.

Maybe it was better this way.

He steps out of Hermione's fireplace and into a living room. A room that he knew way too well for simply being fuckbuddies with her roommate.

"I thought you had better wards up 'mione." A familiar voice commented from the other room.

"I did. It was Yazmeen who let him in." Hermione said, watching Draco step out of her fireplace. Fred followed her gaze and watched as Draco got reacquainted with the apartment. Draco noticing their gaze on him.

"Are you two just going to stare at me? If so, I could've met you at the train station," Draco commented, annoyed.

Fred laughs. "Some people never change. I'll see you when you get back," Fred said, smiling at the brown-skinned woman. He pauses at the door. "Keep her safe, Malfoy."

That, for some reason, catches him off guard, but he manages to get out a quick, yeah.

Hermione watched Fred leave before turning back to the blond-haired man who has moved out of her living room.

"You ready to go? I need to call a cab." Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. Don't know about you, though... Seemed a bit preoccupied." He shrugs, back turned away, looking at some artwork on the wall.

Hermione doesn't validate the statement and instead goes to call a cab. "One is in the area, and it'll be here in about 3 minutes."

Draco doesn't respond, so they exist in silence before Hermione asks, "You've been here plenty of times.. You don't stay over like you used to?"

Draco turns quickly to face the curly-haired woman. "Yeah, unlike like some of us, we have work to do."

"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's obvious half your stuff isn't here, and with Fred being over, I'm going to assume it's at his place?"

All Hermione does is glare before going to look outside to her window. She notices the yellow cab outside, and instead of telling him of the new development, she simply grabs her bag and leaves but unfortunately for her, Draco is a smart man, and he quickly follows after her.

The ride to the train station is filled with tension and silence. Draco likes to think that he wondered if he overstepped a boundary, but then he remembered that he could care less about how he picked at her sex life. If she wanted to do that to him, he could do the same to her. But due to that pettiness, nobody spoke until they were on the train and even then, there wasn't much talking done.

"How are you?"

Hermione glares at him from her seat before rolling her eyes, annoyed at the question "You left me Draco,"

"You left me too; this wasn't a one-person thing,"

"So when were you going to tell me you were married?"

"I wasn't then, and I'm not now."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines."

"Tell that to the gossip magazines that wrote back to back articles about you and Krum? Since when did you listen to them? Also, when did you start caring for me outside of the bedroom?"

"I don't know but stop asking like you weren't the one knocking on my door at first."

The silence informs them both that neither of them have been good. Not that they were ever good, especially not back in college. Running to each other to find something familiar only to go back to hating each other the next day. That's what made the sex good, they both think. Too much passion made anything feel good during the moment, but it's in the morning that you have to wonder whether it was really worth it.

"So are you with him now? You hop from one ginger dick to another?

"Oh, I didn't know you were ginger, and it seems like we're both following patterns."

That one shuts him up because he realizes that he hasn't changed and only moved on to her intern, whose skin looks like the woman's sitting in front of them when the sun hits it just right.

"Also, I don't mind you having sex with Yazmeen, but having sex with every black woman in our office is.... A bit suspicious."

Draco doesn't know how to respond to the claim, so he simply changes the topic "Are you going to Harry's wedding?"

Hermione's eyes snap from the blond man to the window across from him. "Of course, I'm the maid of honor."

Draco isn't really surprised by the admission, "What an Honor. But you know it's surprising that she gave birth before being married."

"Not really.. Might have been going at it for a while, but unlike you, he can stay committed."

"What are you so mad at me for?"

"I don't know?  How about we start with the fact that you left Daphne right after getting married, only to start sleeping with me 3 months later. And then lying to her about it. She thought you loved her; I mean, sure, we all knew it wasn't going to last. But she wanted to at least make it work. But there we were fucking in the backseat while she was in the store."

"Listen, it takes two, don't pretend like you're innocent." He shot back-way too quickly for a man who wanted to seem unaffected from the claims.

"That would be a good claim, but there you were in my bed way past time for you to go, talking to me about the future and how uncertain you were and all that other bullcrap only for you to be in a dedicated marriage. It'd be a bit different if you both didn't give a damn."

Draco sat in silence because she was right. Always right.. Never wrong. Never wrong in the classes they were and certainly never wrong about the life they lived

"Well, we're getting a Divorce... to legalize the situation."

Hermione glares at him. "So that's what makes this better? A divorce after what? 5 years?"

Draco wants to say yes, but after knowing the woman sitting next to him for the past 18 years, he knows a warning sign he sees one, so he drops the subject.

They both know that they'll need to talk about this again, and they didn't need to read tea leaves for that. But just like tea, it can only steep for so long before becoming bitter, or maybe they were past that stage, and it just needed to be poured out.

The train comes to their stop, and they go to a cab that was already waiting for them; they both think that even though Sanchez is annoying and strict, he still knows how to be hospitable if hospitable meant a very homely looking hotel.

"Is this it? The place we're supposed to be staying?" Draco asked, voice full of disgust.

"Yea, this was the address given to me by Sanchez."

Hermione and Draco stared at the small white and brown homely inn that looked like its been around since the dark ages.

"Let's go. It's only a night." Hermione whispered, giving a nudge to Draco.

They climb out of the car and were preparing to go in before the driver rolled down the window. "I'm going to be here by 6 tomorrow evening to take you back to the train station and if need to floor just tell the lady at the desk and she'll help you. Good Luck."

They nod before walking in and realizing that the inside looks exactly like the outside. Homely and cold-one of the great perks of being in a city next to the water.

"Check-in for Sanchez," Hermione said, smiling at the hostess.

Draco stayed in the back and looked around, hoping to see something that would indicate the age of this inn, but unfortunately, nothing stood out but a pattern in one of the supporting beams.

"Hey, got the key," Hermione says, jingling the key in his face before walking down the hallway where the supposed hotel room was.

"15, 25, 35, and 45 is the lucky number."

"Why are the doors numbered like that?"

"I don't know you're the pureblood you tell me,"

Draco rolls her eyes at her response. "Why the hell would I know that?"

"The wizarding world is a weird place, and rich kids are supposed to be cultured," Hermione joked before seeing their bedding situation. "Of fucking course, how brilliant."

Draco was confused by her sudden change of tone until he saw what she was talking about: One bed.

One medium-sized bed in a room that was freezing cold.

As Draco starts to say something, Hermione cuts him off. "Listen, we can talk about this later," Hermione sighs before setting down her bag. "I'll go down and call us a cab to the station."

Draco watches her walk away with only her purse, confused as to why she never lets him talk. But he dismissed the thought when he casted a quick charm to keep their bags safe.

They get to the station and head over to sign in at the front desk "Officer Granger and Officer Malfoy is here to talk to... Your head officer, officer Pearce I believe, is the name, about the recent killings." Hermione says confidently while leaning slightly on the wooden desk.

"Why does he look so confused?" an officer asks while coming up behind the secretary that was checking her computer for confirmation.

"Listen, he doesn't do fieldwork; he does office stuff. This is his first time. Give him a break," Hermione confides, laughing slightly at the Blond man's facial expression.

The officer laughs and checks the computer that shows the confirmation. "Alright, let me check your IDs, and I'll get you guys back there." Draco and Hermione gave their IDs to the officer, and he nods that suggests they follow him to the back.

"Have you seen any pictures of the body? or any of the bodies?" Draco asks. He hasn't seen a dead body since the war, and even though it's been 10 years, the sight of them still can keep him up for days. He wonders how Harry moved on. He thinks he should ask him.

"No, we were only asked to get the statement from the old lady, and even then, it's a bit spotty."

"Well, can you fax a copy to our office so that we have a hard version in London? We're not going to take long." Hermione says, her voice more determined than usual.

"Yeah, I can do that for you. Alright, here's his office, by the way, he doesn't like this kind of stuff, so... You gotta be smart." The officer they were following says before knocking on a door that had the name of Anthony Pearce.

"Come in." A baritone voice commands from behind the door.

"Alright, good luck."

Hermione and Draco give the optimistic officer a nod before heading into the office.

"Hello Officer Pearce, we are investigators sent from London to talk to you about the report that was given to you after a recent murder against a young woman," Draco says, looking around the office before landing on the officer's face.

Hermione thinks that the officer looks like one of the men from Mama Mia.

"So when did they start sending in young ones with fancy outfits to deal with murder cases?" He inquired before lighting a cigarette.

"We aren't dealing with the murder it's self we're just trying to find out about the... uh.. designs being left on the bodies of the victims. I'm officer Malfoy, and this is my partner Granger." Draco shoots back at the man. He knew they were young for their field; there was no denying that, but they were good at their jobs, and there will be no one that questions that, muggle or not.

Officer Pearce raises a brow before tapping his cigarette into the ashtray. "Is that so? If you're only dealing with the designs, why do you want the lady's statements?"

"We want her statements because she was the last one to talk to the lady that was most recently killed, and she could possibly tell us some information that could help us understand what's going on," Draco responds with a slight huff.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Dracos body language 'how immature. You don't hold any power out here, pretty boy.'

"If that's the case, I could've just sent the report to your office. Why come all the way here for something we could've faxed you?" The older man responds, a demeaning edge to his voice.

"Because we're going to interview the woman tomorrow, and since we were in the city, we decided to question you directly. But if you don't want to comply, I can and will have you arrested for obstruction of justice." Hermione responds, a clear tone of annoyance in her voice.

Pearce stares at Hermione and then looks at Draco. "You should keep her around; she gets stuff done. And I'll get you the interview report, and I can't tell you anything because I didn't conduct it and what was said was nothing out of the usual... But I have received some pictures of the, uh, drawings." He says before going through a drawer and bringing out a manila folder.

"Can we look at them?" Hermione asked softly.

"I can make you a copy," He says, putting out his cigarette before heading over to the printer. "Now, why'd you come here? These murders have been happening for a while."

"It's because our office thought these were stand-alone cases. It's London.. And unfortunately, people get killed all the time." Hermione says slowly, making her seem sadder than she actually was.

"Understandable, but Liverpool does have its crime.. Luckily we're not in the city, so it's a bit easier for us." Pearce says before handing Draco the first page.

"If you don't mind me asking... Why were you so resistant to us knowing the information?" Draco asked, passing the page to Hermione.

"Because whoever is doing this is getting off scot-free. And they're sick cunts too. Imagine, instead of just killing the bloke, you carve patterns into their skin. I tell ya it's some of them, refugees."  Pearce says, handing them the next two copied pages.

Hermione looks up from the pictures. "Sir, this is obviously not Arabic. And it's interesting that a cop that is supposed to serve his community has those kinds of feelings for the people he's supposed to be protecting."

"Nah, none of them live around here, and a good thing too. Don't want them to be committing crimes and stuff." Pearce says, walking back to his desk and lighting another cigarette.

Draco noticed the fist tightly wrapped around the paper before speaking up. "Thank you for your time here, sir... If we hear anything thing new, we'll make sure to let you know."

Pearce simply nods before going off into his own world as they left.

"What a fucking bigot." Hermione angrily whispered. Draco stayed silent shocked at the bluntness of the officers' rudeness, but then he realized that his father was the same towards muggles.

They walked to the front and thanked the secretary, and then went to an empty-looking coffee shop across the street.

"My father was like that, wasn't he?" Draco asks while they were sitting down in their chosen seats.

Hermione looks up from the small menu provided at their table. "You think?"

Draco drops the subject before reaching over and grabbing the files.

"How may I help yous?" A bubbly waitress asked Hermione, almost completely ignoring Draco.

"I would like a cup of coffee, straight please." Hermione says with a smile that makes the younger girl blush.

"And I would like a cup of earl grey and some of the strongest stuff you have." Draco says dryly.

The waitress doesn't respond but jots the items down. "That'll be right out."

Draco watches the waitress retreat to behind the bar. "What the hell was that about?"

"Aww, are you mad that you didn't get attention?" Hermione teasingly giggled while picking up her well used legal pad.

Draco didn't respond.

"Hey, Malfoy, do you work with still work with ruins, or are your college years being wasted on artifacts?" Hermione asks, laying out the pictures in front of her.

"Mainly artifacts and studying the charms people put on them," He responds before the waitress came over.

"Here is your drink and alcohol, and your drink, ma'am, is still being made." The waitress says in a light, bubbly tone.

Hermione nods in recognition, but her brows stay furrowed in concentration.

The waitress leaves before Draco speaks up again, clear liquid in hand.

"Don't drink that right now," Hermione says, quickly looking up and snatching the glass of clear liquid. She sniffs if before confirming. "It's moonshine.. That's some powerful stuff, and if you want to coherent while researching, then I suggest you leave that for later." Hermione informs before pulling out an empty flask.

Draco looks at her curiously before pouring the clear liquid into the flask.

"Look, they didn't die graphically. There's no blood if that what you're worried about." Hermione says, looking up at the blond across from her.

"No..That's- I just.. If something big happens when we're on this case, we're going to become much more than researchers, and I just- I left the field for a reason, and I really don't care to be put back in. I was perfectly fine at my desk and perfectly capable of what I was doing."

Hermione looks at him deeply at him before looking back down at the ruins. "That's wonderful to know, and I understand I really do, but we've been working under Sanchez since our internships. And I know that he's smart enough not to let his head researchers go into the field blindly just to get killed. He knows we can handle ourselves out here. Meaning you gotta start trusting yourself. Plus, after this, we'll probably get a nice vacation offering once we're done, so suck it up and let's figure this out before more people die."

Draco sips on his tea, considering the words of the intelligent woman in front of him.

"Here's your coffee, ma'am... Buy the way it's on the house." The waitress interrupts, setting down the requested coffee.

Draco rolls his eyes at the "sincere" action before grabbing his wallet and handing the young woman 100 pounds. "Keep the change."

Hermione gawks at the exchange but doesn't voice her comment until the woman goes away.

"Do you know how much money that is?"

Draco sends her a confused look before replacing his wallet with his glasses. "All right, what are we looking at."

"Well, firstly, you're starting to look like Harry for one. I get you both are basically office mates but geez. And secondly, I think it's Egyptian. Like something found in tombs, but then there's more stuff that I can't really think of... Maybe Mayans?"

Draco grabs a pictured and stares before shaking his head. "Possibly, but there seems to be a mix of several curses among the charms. Those are most certainly from Egypt, and that's probably how the doctors died," He says before grabbing another picture. "Yeah, because they look like hieroglyphics, and so they decoded them and then cursed themselves. But how he got them on the body is what's' really confusing."

Hermione nods before asking, "Don't you have tea with you?"

"Yeah, but I know it's cold, and so I got a new cup."

A new cup indeed.

[rsmrymnt-tea]

Gasp!! Giving you bonus points for including stuff about her parents styles!!! How does Dola feel about her parents influence her art? Given they don't have the best relationship??

When you said she likes to use moody lighting I was immediately like well duh, it fits her character so well!! And the domestic bliss except there's a monster?? So cool!! I can see the brothers getting a little emotional over those pieces too.

And incorporating embroidery and thread painting? Textile and fiber arts? Absolutely obsessed. Of course she's insanely talented coz she's been learning art all her life and then she's just got literally forever to master any form of art that catches her fancy but I'm still like :O! I'm her biggest fan tbh!!

Her 'last' exhibit!! Your mind Iah!! Where do you get these amazing ideas?? I took a minute to just imagine what it would be like to walk into that room and like.... Idk idk I'm absolutely obsessed with the idea I'm going to be thinking about it forever now.

Oh and I never thought about her collabing with the brothers on a piece but I love it!!! Kinda really into the idea of it living at Serenity Manor for some reason?? I can't really explain why though lol. I do imagine that over the years HoL does just rack up a steady collection of her art though.

I had the thought of like, her art going up for auction and being bought by an anonymous buyer for way too much money. And then she comes home to visit however much later and just finds it hung in the dining room or Lucifer's office or something dkdksks.

(also you're so right, Serenity Manor having portals to the rooms at HoL was such a cop out)

Anw no worries about the wait!! It was absolutely worth it. I really enjoyed reading about Dola's art and looking through all of the links!! And you did a brilliant job describing everything (despite the insane request for you to describe art that doesn't exist skdjsjs it didn't even occur to me when I sent it that that's actually a lot to ask lol). So thank you vvvv much for all the time and effort you gave this, and I hope you're doing better and your wrist isn't as bad!!

- 🐝

Waaa Hello hello nonnie!! Honestly I thought it would be easier too since I know what I have in my head but well... Looking for references is hard >.< And even the close ones either didn't have the vibe or themes to make it ~her~

And dw I've been doing okay! Mood swings are still a Lot in general but hey, what can I do... And the wrist definitely isn't as bad! Got some bandages to help keep it stable and it honestly worked better than my wrist braces >w<

Honestly I've thought about what the rest of her family does too since they all tried to pull her towards what their medium is since she was like... The first child any of them had? What's the term? Basically was the One Kid everyone could project on before her cousins were born >.>

Re: how she feels about her parents influencing her style so much, I think the mainly resents the fact that it means her work is constantly compared to theirs more than anything, even as her style evolves into something of its own--I imagine the critics and art journalists constantly trying to make connections of where her art places among her family since I honestly seem them all going rather dark/somber in their subject matter? Dola can't help what she likes, though has at one point done something along the lines of this as an exhibit using replicas of her parents' work, except like... Imagine it being done in the spirit of making the statements "i am more than an amalgamation of my family's work" and "would you still care about my work if I did not have my name?"

(Which probably causes a stir over at home and I can see some passive-aggressive art responses from happening since they (and not just her parents) likely feel as though she owes them for getting her where she is and all...)

And hdjkfhsgdf Lucifer being The Patron that did that which gets people talking since who bought her work for that much and is it really worth that amount which eventually leads to her work actually being valued more because that's just how weird the art industry is????? >.< Thinking about her being so, so baffled that someone wants to pay that much for her work but feeling pretty proud of herself too... Then her being so shocked when she sees it and finds out that Lucifer's the one who bought it? I can see a whole "I could've just given it to you!" "Of course, but I'd rather pay full price for it." "But you paid more than the price I set for it? Several times more." "Well, it's not my fault you're underpricing yourself." type of exchange happening >.<

And gosh yeah I can see that the pieces she does with the brothers end up in Serenity Manor! It just seems like the kind of place where more experimental pieces wouldn't stick out so bad vs how very... Traditional? The HoL seems. Anything modern in style seems like it would stand out too much there imo, save for if it were in some of the brothers' rooms.

(+ How could they not collab when I can see Asmo asking Dola to literally paint his nails as like, little paintings? Or after seeing that chat where Satan asks MC/Dola to be his model as he tries to get into drawing? Or the fact that Solomon's an skilled painter himself? I don't think Dola's limited to fine art too, she'd go into helping Levi with his games he makes and designing clothes and accessories with Asmo >.< Probably tries to teach the twins to draw better too ;w;)

Some part of me also thinks that Diavolo would commission her for art? Both early on pre-Incident and post, both because he wants to have human-made art in his castle/his hotel/s, and in an attempt to try to get on her good side/have a reason to talk to her alone without ordering her to or something idk

Though overall I'm very happy you like what I've come up with!! And that what I was trying to convey probably came through somehow? Dola's living the dream, honestly, not having to worry about budget or labor or time when it comes to her projects... Wishing so hard that were me...

(And thank you for thinking her 'last' exhibit idea is cool ;w; I just have a fondness for theatrical shit like that where the space where the art is displayed is dressed to hell and back >.< Very much miss my university's art gallery for it + going to Art Fair PH and was also a theater kid for a brief time so... Love the drama and grandiosity of going all out like that ahaha~)

Anyway how are you!! It's been a hot minute >.< Haven't been putting out much because I've been feeling mostly put out >.>;;