#show me christmas decorations and i lose all my judgement

[softpine]

casper’s big head lmao

[rainbow-beanie]

All in the Mind was so good, it might just be my favorite episode of TGAMM overall. It inspired me to ask: What’s your favorite episode(s) of each of your favorite DTVA shows?

OOOOH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!

If we’re talking favorite DTVA shows, I would go with the owl house and of course tgamm.

The owl house favorite episodes: echoes of the past is a very special and important episode in the series, cause up until now king believed himself to be “the king of demons” while everyone else just played along, not once believing this to be true. But this all changes when he figures out the truth: that he is instead the son of the last titan, and that eda took him in shortly after he hatched. Hunting palismen up until hollow mind and onwards are my favorite episodes, cause it features my favorite boy hunter, and his personal journey from being just the golden guard and nephew to the emperor, to being the dorky hunter we all know and love. And I love him with all my heart <3

Tgamm favorite episodes: now it took me AWHILE to get used to the episodic nature of the show, but after awhile I’m proud to say that I have a few favorite episodes! the turnip twist is a very important episode for scratch, set early is season one, it shows scratch feeling very conflicted about ruining the turnip festival that Molly and Pete have been working so hard on, and the last thing he would want to do is let Molly down (at this point in the series it would make sense that scratch wouldn’t necessarily have warmed up to the parents yet, so he’s more phone to worry about Molly’s feelings then anyone else, it’s just how he operates.) But if he doesn’t do anything the ghost council is gonna sentence him to the flow of failed phantoms, which for ghosts is like a worst version of purgatory. This choice was unfortunately made for him when he had accidentally told this to Geoff, and bless his sweet heart, immediately went to ‘save’ him by causing the destruction of the turnip piñata onstage, cause in his words “I’M NOT GONNA LOSE MY BEST FRIEND!!” even if by this point scratch didn’t quite see him as one, this scene is still very sweet.

(Also since scratch is my favorite character, I find great joy in seeing him distressed, don’t worry this is a normal reaction in this fandom)

We love and respect Geoff in this house <3

Festival of Lights is a very warm and comforting episode, not only cause it has the mcgee family and scratch spending Hanukkah with Libby and her mother, it also tells the tale of how and why Hanukkah is so important. I love how we are in the day and age where we get to have episodes revolving around different topics and traditions, cause I don’t think we had such a thing in the past. And if we did it was probably pretty small, so this episode is easily one of my favorites, even if I myself aren’t Jewish, this episode still has a special place in my heart, it also features one of my favorite moments where, during a game where members have to write what they are thankful for and slip it into a miracle box, scratch, unfortunately for him, is forced to reveal the words on his slip of paper, which was “i used to haunt a house, now I haunt a home.” Which understandably embarrasses him greatly upon this being read aloud, after hearing such a sweet message from the often moody ghost, molly and the others are quick to envelop him in a classic mcgee group hug. This is one of the most sweetest moments fr <3

Festival of Lights: during snowflake celebration in brighten, all the Christmas lights burn out, causing Molly and Andrea to ask mr Davenport to donate some of his money to buy new Christmas decorations, he harshly turns them down. Cause a lot of time riches cloud a person’s judgement, causing the person to be greedy. Unfortunately this is one of those instances, after trial and error with Molly trying to have scratch pretend to be the ghosts of the past, present and future, only to fail cause of the fact that Mr Davenport does believe in that sort of stuff, things take a turn when both Molly and scratch run out of ideas as to how to change his mind, Molly, completely devastated by the fact that Christmas was canceled since there were no lights or decorations to spare, decided to go to bed early. This causes scratch to grow angry, cause up until this point he didn’t know of anything that could drain the happiness from Molly Mcgee, and thus resorts to trying to give the man a concussion dragging the man by the ankle into the sky in hopes of scaring him into donating money for the snowflake celebration. Only for Mr Davenport to see how devastated his own daughter, andrea is by the snowflake celebration being cancelled. He decides then and there to change his mind. Which is fine I guess, it at least shows that the man has some heart in there.

Out of house and home/home is where the haunt is: I don’t think I need to explain why these episodes are so important. after an accident involving a ladder and gutters, Pete ends up breaking his leg, and since sharon is constantly out getting gigpig jobs to help get enough money to pay off the hospital bill, and Molly and Darrel out trying to do their part to help as well, scratch has no choice but to stay at home to keep watch over Pete. Which he wouldn’t have been caught DEAD(er) doing at the beginning of the series. And unfortunately even after the hospital bill is payed off, there’s something all of them had forgotten about, which was to pay off the mortgage to the house, causing the mcgee’s to be homeless for a month, and the only thing scratch could do was once again stay at home. But this time instead of taking care of someone, he resorts to scaring away anyone interested in buying the house, cause the second worst thing then being alone in an empty house is being alone in a house with unfamiliar people.

So suffice to say scratch most likely hadn’t had time to get any rest during this time, and I don’t think that’s talked about enough.

The afterlife of the party: still getting used to becoming the chairman after Molly saved him from being sentenced to the flow of failed phantoms, and subsequently destroying said flow and killing the previous chairman, scratch is pleasantly surprised when he’s invited to a party by an unfamiliar face, which to him is MIND BOGGLING, cause after being treated as the “worst of the worst” for possibly his entire afterlife up to this point, he agrees without hesitation, only to be put on the spot when Geoff asked him to go to a party that he’s hosting. And unfortunately scratch makes the mistake of going to the first party and not telling Geoff, instead pretending to be sick, which ended up peeving Molly off. And things only get worse when, shortly after scratch is at the party, Geoff ends up showing up as well, sending him into a panic and trying to hide from him for half the night, jinx is also there to further rub salt in the wound, being the only one that actually knows that scratch is at Geoff and Jeff’s anniversary party, and purposefully decided to not tell him this important information, only cause of the fact that he was involved in the death of the previous chairman, which wasn’t even his fault.

And when scratch is inevitably found out by Geoff after finding him at a churro stand, he finally admits that he had gone to the party instead of Geoff’s, even if it was technically still his party, scratch had no way of knowing that.

The ghost IS Molly mcgee is a very fun episode, which is unexpected cause I usually despise body swap episodes, cause of the possibility of me experiencing second hand embarrassment from one of my favorite characters acting unlike themselves and causing further embarrassment to the character that had been body swaped with, but thankfully this episode didn’t have any of this, and I really enjoyed seeing scratch being a chaotic gremlin and having fun at bossing children around while working on a play written by Libby. It was certainly a nice change to breathe before getting to in the mind. The writers knew what they were doing

In the mind is a FANTASTIC episode, cause it involves one of my favorite tropes, which is characters going inside someone’s mind and getting into the nitty gritty of someone’s mind, and in this case is scratch’s, which, true to form was pretty weird. A most interesting part of the upper level of his mind being the interior of the mcgee house, which as we all know used to be where scratch lived alone before the mcgee’s showed up. So this could possibly reference to how the house had once been all he had known for such a long time after death. Cause after all, before the events of soda to remember, scratch had no prior knowledge as to what his life was before he died, so during the point where he lived inside that dank and dusty house, he couldn’t even reminisce about his life before. Which I think is even worse then having only bad memories to look on upon.

But anyway, the reason why scratch and Molly are in his mind in the first place is cause scratch has the case of ‘the bubbles’ which is basically a literal representation of him bottling up his emotions, and so Molly convinced him to make a portal inside his mind so that they can figure out what was causing it. One montage later the two come across a building with a chest on top, guarded by, weirdly enough a giant monkey (shortly after watching this episode I found out that “monkeys on the mind” can represent anxiety or an anxiety disorder, which means we may have canonical evidence that scratch has anxiety) and scratch finally tells Molly about idia, and how he hadn’t wanted to think about it, cause the thought of forgetting about someone who he had a very close relationship with is terrifying, cause if he forgot something as important as a childhood friend, then what else has he forgotten?

Anyway, yeah that’s all my favorite episodes, or at least ones that live in my head rent free, which I guess is the same thing XD

Sorry if this post is really long, my mind (heh) kinda got away from me, and I ended up having more to say then I thought lol

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Harry, Louis, or both Harry and Louis are single parents. This list includes both fics where one of the parents is not in the picture (at least for a period of time) and fics where the parents are both single even if they’re both present. If you enjoy this rec list, please like and reblog to spread the word. Happy reading!

1) All I Want For Christmas Is You (And Your Children) | Explicit | 11307 words

Harry finds himself at Tesco on December 24th for a quick grocery shopping with his daughter Leah.

He thought he’d come back home with a few things for dinner (and probably a few that Leah slipped through the cart without him noticing).

He absolutely did not think about the possibility of meeting a gorgeous single father of two children.

And inviting him to his Christmas Eve dinner at home.

2) For The Thrill Of Your Touch I Will Shamefully Lust | Explicit | 12873 words

“Harry, are you really making red velvet?” He breathed, excitement clear in his voice and written in his eyes. As if Harry making him something (after he asked about it) was something he had never expected to happen and Harry wondered for a second when he had given of the impression of not wanting to please Louis’ every wish.

“Of course I am, I had two tiny Tomlinson’s asking for it” he smiled, aware of the fact that Louis did not think of himself as short or anywhere near tiny. But in comparison to Harry, he was definitely a tiny one.

Louis huffed and moved a step away from him. They had been standing very close up until that moment, and Harry had not even noticed before the smaller was moving away.

“I am not tiny, Harold” he said, in a sharper voice, but Harry knew from the look on his face that Louis was far from mad about the comment.

3) What's Love Without Tragedy | Explicit | 17130 words

Louis is a widower with three kids. Harry is the babysitter. They fall in love.

4) Dear Santa | Explicit | 20518 words

"Dear Santa...I know you're very busy and you have lots of toys to make but I wondered if this year I could ask for something else. I changed my mind about the puppy and I'd like to ask if you can help me instead. "

Miss. Fields looks mildly bemused as Beau takes a breath.

"I used to have a really cool Doctor; possibly the coolest doctor ever and then he went away only he's back and he helped me feel better and I'd really, really like it if I could say hi to him again."

"Who was your doctor, Beau?" Her teacher asks.

"Dr. Styles," she replies with a sweet smile.

Miss. Fields glances over to Sam.

"He's just come back into town hasn’t he? I'm sure we can arrange for you to say hello..."

"My Daddy won't let me," she pouts, scratching a nail against her page a little.

She's decorated it with glitter in the colours of the rainbow.

"We can ask him if it’s alright," Miss. Fields suggests. “Perhaps he can come with us?”

"Oh, can we?" Beau beams, gasping.

Her teacher smiles and rests a gentle hand on her back.

"Think of something else you'd like to ask Santa for," she suggests.

5) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Explicit | 24610 words

A friends to lovers AU with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

6) Yours To Lose | Explicit | 25742 words

Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.

7) All The Lights are Full Of Colour | Explicit | 26727 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

8) A Fallen Star That Shines No More | Explicit | 25926 words

Louis might have a problem.

Said problem lies entirely in the fact that he can't seem to avoid Harry Styles, The Ex-Boyfriend That Broke His Heart and World Famous Popstar Sensation. Everything is only made more complicated by the fact that he doesn't really want to avoid Harry either, even though they're supposed to mean nothing to each other.

Another tiny problem may also be that Harry has no idea that Louis has a daughter now.

Yeah, he's screwed.

9) Starlight's Crossing | Explicit | 30496 words

All it takes is one night for Harry and Louis' life to change forever. Fast-forward four years, and they embark on an adventure of a lifetime across the universe.

10) Last Blues For Bloody Knuckles | Explicit | 34329 words

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

A mob au.

11) Sedative Duty. | Explicit | 46588 words

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press,  Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

12) So Much We Didn’t Say | Mature | 53584 words

Harry’s near fatal accident exposed the cracks in his and Louis’ eleven year marriage. A serious error in judgement by Louis shattered it completely.

13) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words

"Don't tell me, you're Lola," Louis pointed at the little girl and she crowded her father's leg shyly, sticking her thumb in her mouth.

Harry chuckled lightly and cupped the back of her head with a large palm, his calloused hands catching the fine strands of her hair.

"She's shy," Harry told him. "Plus you swore mighty loud...M'Harry by the way," he stuck his free hand forward, his diction belying his way of life- slow and casual.

The somewhat dainty-looking loud-mouth flicked a look to his hand, then back to his face. Harry waited patiently for him to take it.

"Louis," he finally shared, clasping Harry's hand with his smaller one and giving it a gentle squeeze, placing his other over the top of both of theirs. "Tomlinson," he added. "I'm your personal assistant," he added.

14) All I Want | Mature | 289311 words

When Harry and Louis got together it wasn’t under the best circumstances. Louis was taken by another. But go figure that the way they ended up together is the very same way it ended. And Harry left Louis. He left him with a lot more than he thought. A story about how people’s misconceptions almost destroyed a love that went beyond measure.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[acciomalfoy]

the way the planets align (fred weasley x reader)

A/N; this fic is @fromashescomephoenixes child and i assisted in raising it :) so go check her out rn cos she is wonderful!

summary: y/n grew up alongside her two bestfriends, but life had other plans when y/n moved to france when she was 11. prior to the triwizards tournament, fred and y/n are forced to face the lives they lived, and the radio silence of the past year has an explanation afterall.

word count: a whopping 7.5k

-

It’s funny, really. How quickly life can pick you up, and how quickly life can throw you back down.

 “Faster!” I had screamed as the wind rushed through my hair. I remembered this moment the most. With the wind rushing through my hair and knotting it like nothing else, I felt like I was an eagle all the way up here. My nest? Quite simple really. The boy sitting in front of me. 

 Reality though, was quite different. I was on one of the Weasley’s seven brooms, and Fred was sat in front of me. I hadn’t met many quidditch players, but I already knew that Fred was a damn good one. We had had a plan, you see. Once we arrived at Hogwarts, we were going to become the youngest quidditch players ever. We had it all planned out..  

Fred began his descent to the ground in a swift plunge, and I clutched onto him tightly. If I made it to the ground, I was going to murder the idiot. 

 “Freddie!” I yelled out, and he only laughed.

 “Don’t worry y/n! I’m the best quidditch player of all time,” He yelled back, and I wasn’t quite sure what occurred in that moment, but as soon as Fred slowed down his descent by a fraction, I knew I was in for it. 

 “Sure you are,” I giggled. “Although I’m slightly better,” The wind caught Fred’s response to this, so I never heard it. Looking back, I wonder what he had said. For once, everything seemed perfect. When we reached the ground, I was torn between kissing the ground and wishing I was still flying with Fred.

 “I’ll never get sick of flying like that,” Fred smiled. The summer had made his freckles stand out even more than usual. I grinned back at him as we raced into the burrow.  

 “Darling y/n!” Molly greeted me cheerfully. “I haven’t seen you in ages! It must have been at least two hours,” she teased in a loving tone, and I could only grin back at her.

 “I missed you!” Ginny cheerfully chimed in as she gave me a hug. I waved to her and gave her a hug while Fred and George grabbed a couple of pumpkin pasties out of the cupboard.

 “Good afternoon y/n,” Percy greeted me as he peered over the top of his book. He was wearing strange glasses, which he swore he needed but Fred and George said he simply fancied that they made him look more grown up.

 “Er, hello!” I cheerfully replied. Percy always seemed so much more grown up than Fred and George and I, that I almost felt awkward talking with him.

 “Oh!” I remembered suddenly. “Would it be okay if Fred and George come over to my house for dinner tonight?” I asked Molly. Percy glanced up, but quickly resumed his uninterested reading.

 “Please mum!” Fred and George begged one unison. They liked my house because mum always made dessert. Although George always liked to tease me by saying Fred likes dinner anywhere that I was. I didn’t mind that idea, in fact it only made me blush, but I knew George was joking. Molly nodded her approval and we ran out the door, eager to spend the afternoon in the sun. 

 We began our hike to our absolute favourite picnic tree, where the sun was softly filtering through the leaves of the forest. We were by no means quiet as we joked and laughed our way through the woods.

 Finally we reached our picnic tree. I was the first to shimmy up the ladder. We had found the tree about three years ago, and from then on it became our hideout. The tree had such a huge trunk that even with all three of us we couldn’t get our arms around it! The trunk split into three large branches about eight feet off of the ground, and grew on from there.

 “We’ll have to find a new hideout at Hogwarts,” I sighed, but spoke loudly enough so they could hear me down the ladder.

 “I bet there’s some sort of secret room we could use!” Fred suggested eagerly.

 “Or we could just stinkbomb whatever room we want, and then no one else would want to use it!” George suggested as he popped his head over the top of the ladder.

 “Yeah, but I don’t know if I could even get used to that scent,” I wrinkled my nose in memory of the one we set off last Christmas.

 “Ah true,” Fred sighed. “Bet there’s a charm for that issue though!” We giggled and continued to talk about our plans for Hogwarts. We’d all be going next year, although I was still waiting for my letter since my birthday wasn’t until the next week. 

 -

 Dinner was certainly memorable that night. Fred, George and I walked back with about fifteen minutes to spare. They ran across the lane to get changed in time for dinner. I put on my favourite maroon dress and dashed downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell.

 “Hey guys!” Their marching grind beamed towards me and we sat down to a delicious dinner of homemade pizza. I should have noticed something was up, because we only ever had homemade pizza like that when there was big news. At the tender age of 10, this was the worst news I had ever received.

 “Are you boys excited for Hogwarts?” My mum had asked Fred and George. Of course, this launched us all into our carefully laid out plan. This extended to everything from what house we would be in, to what desserts we would eat on the first night.

 “Well, we have some exciting news,” My dad began. I glanced up, curious if my letter had arrived early or something. Unfortunately I was a bit preoccupied by a bit of cheese that was extra gooey on my pizza.

 “You’ll all get to experience two wizarding schools! In a way at least,” Mum announced this and we all instantly wanted to cheer. Secretly I hoped she would say we were all going on a gap year to Durmstrang. There was something so mysterious about it!

 “We’ve enrolled y/n at Beauxbatons as we’ll be moving there in August!” Dad positively beamed towards us all. Obviously they expected a rush of excitement about this, but what were we meant to say? I stared at my mother.

 “Without Fred and George?” My mom nodded a little sadly to confirm my worst fear.

 “But I’m sure you could all write letters or something!” My dad piped up. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t cry in front of Fred and George. Well, I could. They’d be very supportive, but I didn’t want to show them just how upset I was about it.

 “Excuse me,” I pushed aside my plate and left. I bounded up the stairs to my room, which was decorated with Holyhead Harpies posters. In a matter of moments my world had come crashing down. Beauxbatons was in France for Merlin’s sake! I would be completely and utterly alone. I sighed quietly, and opened up my window, leaning against the window sill. 

 It was quiet for a long time, the only sound I could hear being my own shallow breath as I tried to control my tears. A freckle covered arm nudged mine, and when I looked to my right I saw my best friend.

 “You know that nothing will change, right?” He asked quietly, and I laughed humorlessly.

 “Everything will change, Freddie. I can’t abuse Snape with you guys, or be the youngest chaser on the quidditch team. I want to go to Hogwarts.” I leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder, and he let out a long breath.

 “We can write to each other every week. Yeah, we can do that. Everything will be the same, nothing could tear us apart.” It was quiet again.

 “You promise?” I whispered, and he entwined his pinkie finger with mine.

 “I promise.”

••••

 Fred had fucking lied, I thought bitterly. We were sixteen now, and the letter exchanging had fallen through two years ago. I felt resentment rising in my chest, but I knew it was no one’s fault. It’s just the way that things unfold. Now, as I stood outside the Great Hall I had dreamt of entering my entire life, I had to still my hands as they involuntarily shook. I had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to even be afraid of really, and yet I couldn’t stop my heart from clouding my judgement as it always had as a child. Maybe there was just something about Fred that made me lose all inhibitions. 

 “Now!” Madame Maxine shrieked, and the doors flew open with a resounding bang. There was a split second where we froze, the eyes of Hogwarts on us. It wasn’t until the older girls flew forward did the rest of us, and without even seeing him I just knew where Fred was sitting.

 Something about a sixth sense, our parents used to say. I was Fred’s twin instead of George, with how finely tuned our minds were. We were always able to sense when something had happened to the other, or pinpoint the exact location of one another despite being apart. 

 I willed myself to look away from the flurry of red robes in the centre table. Knowing my luck, I would see a Weasley with questions written all over their face. It was something I couldn’t handle right now. Something that maybe I would never be able to handle. I curtseyed when I was supposed to, eyeing a yellow-robed boy who winked at me, and we continued marching forward.

 I knew that the house of courage was the next house to be curtseyed to, and I decided that if I had gone to Hogwarts, I definitely wouldn’t have made it into that house. I stared at the ground as I curtseyed and continued forward. During the dance we performed I was looking at the roof or the ground, anywhere but the sea of students in front of us. We hurried to the side, and I made the fatal mistake of looking into the crowd.

 Right into the eyes of a smiling Fred Weasley. 

••••

I sat down angrily at the Ravenclaw table. I’m not sure if anger was the right word for what I was feeling. But really how else am I supposed to describe the heartbreak, the sense of loss, and fear I felt. It was all too much. I simply couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. Especially as it was the hall we had so expertly planned our pranks, and conversations, and lives for. 

 What hurt the most, quite possibly, was knowing that there had never been a relationship to begin with. I wasn’t sure how old I was when I realised Fred was definitely better looking than most, and at some point during our letter exchange I had begun to fall for my friend. 

 “Y/n?” My friend Marie nudged me. “You looked beautiful out there!” She encouraged me eagerly, seeing that I was incredibly quiet.

 “Merci, Marie.” I managed a small smile towards her. “I just feel a bit out of place,” I shrugged. 

 “Well, I’m sure any number of boys here are eager to make sure we feel right at home,” Marie wiggled her eyebrows towards me as I let out a small laugh. I rolled my eyes before picking up a fork. “What about...” Her eyes scanned the room for a minute.

 “That one!” She pointed towards the Gryffindor table. I nearly choked on my piece of potato when I saw that of all the boys in the room, she had picked him...

 Fred Weasley’s eyes burned into mine again. I couldn’t stand it a moment longer and I murmured a quick excuse before rising from the table and leaving the hall hurriedly.

••••

When making the choice of leaving the hall, I had forgotten one thing. I didn’t know my right from left in this fucking castle. Everything was dimly lit, and there were endless corridors and nooks that aided in my getting hopelessly lost. I could vaguely recall the halls from Hogwarts: A History, but that had been six, seven years ago. 

 Eventually, I gave up and collapsed into a secluded corner. All things considered, there could have been a worse spot to allow four years of harsh feelings catch up to me. The starlight dimly illuminated by shaking hands, and bounced off of my silvery blue skirt. It was altogether peaceful, apart from my soft shuddering sobs. 

 “Hey,” a voice suddenly broke the secrecy of my break down.

 “Fred, I don’t want to see you right now.” I groaned. His warm brown eyes and soft freckles were too much. They still made my heart flutter and my head spin. As if I was soaring through the air on my broom again, a little girl having a crush on a little boy.

 “What? Why not?” He asked, flabbergasted. I turned the other way, and began to trace the soft patterns of my wand, as I often did when I was nervous. 

 “We’re not friends anymore. You clearly forgot me.” I accused him. It felt good to finally see him and show him how awful he had been to stop writing.

 “You’re the one who stopped writing to me!” He fired back, and I slowly shook my head. He had ignored my letters for over a year and had the nerve to lie to my face about it. 

 “Go. Away.” I coldly turned, and positively bolted down the hall. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Letters had begun growing scarce around our third/fourth year, and it was seemingly reasonless. The trail had truly gone cold at the end of our fourth year, and that was when the real heartbreak had set in. What a time to be alive. 

••••

“George, did you keep writing to y/n?” Fred was sprawled on one of the many lounges in the Gryffindor common room, while George was lying at his feet. 

 “No, we never even started writing to each other,” He shrugged. Y/n and George had never been quite as close, and they naturally fell out of touch when she moved. 

 Fred pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his robe pocket, and lovingly smoothed it out.

 “She stopped writing to me in fourth year.” Fred whispered. At this George sat bolt upright. The thought of Fred and Y/n not being best friends was a startling one, one that had never come across his mind. 

 “What do you mean?” George asked, clearly stunned. His twin and y/n had written weekly for as long as he could remember. “Why didn’t you check if it got lost?” Fred shook his head.

 “I did George,” He held up the crumpled paper he was holding. His pained expression was almost too much for the twin to bare. “I wrote four fucking times. This one was going to be my last hope,” He crumpled it back up, and shoved it into a pocket dejectedly. 

 “Oh Fred...” George sighed. “I suppose a prank on Gin is out of the question then?”  

 “I can’t right now.” Fred ribbed his face in his hand. He felt so lost and confused after his encounter with y/n. How could she have thought he would ever want to stop writing to her? Something must have happened to the letters, but he felt like he must be kidding himself if he thought that 5 different letters could get lost. Errol wasn’t that old, was he? 

••••

I dressed quickly in the morning in my pale blue, silky uniform. Although I still sometimes wished that I had gone to Hogwarts, I had to say that the Beauxbatons uniform was much better. As I exited the dormitory I bumped into my friend Maurice who had just exited his dormitory.

 “Salut!” Maurice greeted me cheerfully as we fell into step beside each other. 

 “Quoi de neuf?” I muttered. Though we all mostly spoke English around each other, we also had fun, shorter chats in French. At Beauxbatons they taught most classes in English, except for potions since it was so precise and they couldn’t risk as translational mix up. 

 “You okay y/n?” Maurice asked, pausing and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Aunty Lisa told me to keep an eye on you,” I sighed. Of course, mother would set my cousin on my tail to make sure I didn’t stress. 

 “Never better,” I grinned. “I might, er, run to the bathroom before breakfast,” I turned and threw a wave towards Maurice before I left. I hurried down a random corridor and hoped I’d be able to find a hufflepuff or something to show me to the great hall later.

 For now, I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going as I slowly walked around. I let my eyes drink up the lovely sights of Hogwarts. It was still sinking in that I was finally seeing it, even if I was seeing it under much different circumstances than I had hoped. I ducked away into a corridor as I heard hurried footsteps coming up behind me. Unfortunately I had misjudged, and they were coming towards me, not passing me. 

 “Y/n?” I heard a voice that I vaguely recognised, but couldn’t place. “What are you doing here?” After a moment of thought I finally placed the voice to Percy Weasley. 

 Bloody hell, of the hundreds of student in the castle it seemed I’d only ever meet the Weasleys. 

 “Hello Percy,” I mustered up as much cheerfulness as I could and I tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, and I was forced to stop and converse with him.

 “Well!” He smiled broadly, “How have you been?” Clearly he had a much different memory of how close we had been, because he was acting about ten times kinder than I’d expect. 

 “Really well, thank you.” I turned my lips up, hoping to achieve a smile. “Are you hoping to participate in the tournament?” 

 “Oh heavens,” He laughed in a very uptight manner. “No, no. I work for the ministry now.” He said with an air of self importance. 

 “Well, congratulations.” I spoke, with a hint of sarcasm and I made to excuse myself.

 “Would you like me to walk you to breakfast?” I cringed as my escape was foiled. 

 “Er, actually, I was heading to my dorm.” I lied on the spot, cursing the sound of my grumbling tummy. 

 “Oh! Which tower are you in?” I again cursed my poor lie. Thankfully, I was saved (or further doomed) by Fred coming around the corner. 

 “Y/n! Can we please talk?” Fred sprinted towards me and grabbed my hand. I saw some sort of emotion flicker cross Percy’s eyes as I shouted good bye and followed Fred. I laughed once we turned a corner.

 “Thanks Freddie,” I grinned a moment, forgetting I was meant to be angry with him. One more look at his honey brown eyes sent the negative emotions straight into my heart, however. “I’ll be going now,” I began to leave haughtily.

 “No. You won’t.” Fred begged. “Please let me talk to you.” I nearly yielded, but couldn’t stand the idea of my heart broken again with excuses of why my friendship wasn’t worth it. 

 “I can’t talk to you, Fred. Merlin, it hurts for me to even look at you. It’s heartbreak if I’ve ever known it.” I whispered quietly before racing away. Somehow I ended up in the Great Hall, with snot and tears on my face. 

 Before entering, I gently cleaned my face with a charm, and reapplied the natural makeup I had on. Determined to brave the hall before risking running into another Weasley, I calmly walked towards the Ravenclaw table.

 “Oh Marie,” I groaned. It was I could do to keep my composure and not sprawl my head onto the table. Luckily, as my best friend she was able to see this. She patted my back gently, and placed a fresh chocolate croissant on my plate. “Thank you” I smiled. 

 “Of course,” She smiled back towards me. “Did you get lost?” She giggled slightly. 

 “More hopelessly than you could ever know!” To her this would seem like dramatic flair, however I truly felt lost at heart. Unsure how to proceed between Fred’s excuses, Percy’s kindness, and the stress of possibly entering the tournament. I wanted to believe that Fred was telling the truth about the letters, but it didn’t add up.

 The last letter I had sent before Fred stopped writing had been a special one. I had been unable to hold in my feelings towards him any longer. At the end of the letter I had explained that I loved him. Not in the sisterly, or friendly way that I had previously led him to believe. But a real love. 

 Of course he stopped writing. I couldn’t blame him. But I had hoped that he wouldn’t let in stop our friendship. It had hurt. It still hurt, because even though I was young I also knew more than ever that I loved Fred. 

--

“I heard that a ministry official is going to ask you to the ball, y/n.” Marie whispered in that way of hers, and I stared aghast.

“What? Surely that’s illegal.” I whispered back, and Madame Maxine stared at us over the rim of her glasses. I swallowed before picking up my quill.

“Nothing’s illegal for ministry officials, silly. Have you heard of Percy Weasley before?” I froze. Percy fucking Weasley. 

“No, I haven’t. He sounds like a proper nonce.” Marie and I broke into peels of laughter, and another look from Madame silenced us. 

“Will you say yes?” Marie had long mastered the ability to speak with her mouth closed, and had tried in vain to teach me.

“Absolutely not.” I replied, and the sounds we heard for the rest of the lesson were quill scratching parchment and our headmistresses voice. 

-- 

It was on my way to another lunch in the gardens that I was ambushed by arguably my favourite Weasley.

“Hey Georgie.” I couldn’t help the old nickname fall from my lips, and he smiled at me.

“I’ve missed you.” He said, and I smiled sadly.

“I’ve missed you too, silly. I assume you didn’t find me for pleasantries though. You were never the most tactful Weasley, were you?” I laughed at the look of sheer outrage on George’s face, and he eventually chuckled.

“Rumour has it that you stopped talking to my brother a year ago.” He said, and I sighed.

“Fred stopped writing to me after I sent him a letter confessing how I felt about him. Take that as you will, but I took it as a clear rejection.” I took a deep breath, now able to say Fred’s name without falling into pieces. George stopped.

“What? Fred said you stopped talking to him, and I don’t like to think of my brother as a liar.” He said hotly, and I stared at him.

“Am I a liar, Georgie?” 

It was quiet for a long time.

“No, you’re not.” 

-

“Miss L/n!” I should have known that I couldn’t escape Percy Weasley. He was relentless, and I wondered if he knew what the word no meant.

“Hi, Percy. I’m actually on my way to class, I’m afraid.” I tried to end the conversation before it could begin, but no such luck.

“Perfect! I’ve been meaning to walk you to class for a while! Gentlemens chivalry and all.” He looped an arm under mine and I reluctantly started walking.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I wonder how you managed to rank top three in all of your classes. Naturally, I always ranked top five, but that’s mildly less impressive. I think it goes without saying that I topped most of my NEWT’s, but I’m still intrigued on what your methods are. There’s still plenty of learning and memorising that goes on at the Ministry, you see, and I think that you and I would make a great team. Who knows, maybe you can be my assistant when I’m Minister of Magic one day.” I tuned Percy out as quickly as I could. Really, I couldn’t think of anyone who would actually want to listen to Percy for five minutes, let alone the rest of his life. 

I thought wistfully of Fred during the walk to my class, and how much my heart ached at the mention of his name. Maybe I had been harsh on him. Suppose our letters had been lost in the post? It wasn’t unlikely, and it sure would explain why he seemed so confused and upset. 

“Well, this is my stop.” I interrupted him as he droned on and on and on and on and-

“It was a pleasure as always.” Percy picked up my hand and I tried not to gag as he kissed it. Was there anything quite as horrible as this was? I didn’t think so. Oh, maybe your best friend cutting contact with you after you confess your love to him. My life was going spectacularly.  

“See ya.” I darted inside the classroom, spying Maurice and Marie sitting by the door. 

“Hey, y/n.” They chorussed. I noticed with relief that Madame hadn’t arrived yet, and I slid into the seat beside Maurice.

“Salut.” I sat in silence thinking about how weird Percy was, when my breath caught in my throat.

I hadn’t been ranked top three in every class this year, and the last time I had been ranked top three must have been in fourth year. I recalled a quill in my hand as I wrote to Fred excitedly, and the emptiness I had felt upon not receiving a letter. Was it possible? 

I think it was about time I had another chat with George. 

-

“Where are you going George?” Fred glanced up, half interested. His gaze was still fixed on the list of products him and his brother were assembling.

 “Ah, just for a stroll,” George explained as he subtly picked up Fred’s robe instead of his own. The twin hardly nodded, as he became immersed once more in the list of clever tricks and treats they had assembled. George thanked Merlin for his good luck and slipped out the portrait hole.

 Once safely in the corridor, George felt around in the inner pocket to find what he was looking for. Thankfully, it was right where Fred had left it. As always. George pulled out the crumpled parchment, but didn’t dare to open it. It was too personal he had decided. He was simply acting as a messenger, he reminded himself.

 Y/n had invited George to meet her in the library after lunch. Thankfully, after being at the castle for nearly two months at this point, she knew her way around. Now, George thought, all that’s left to do is deliver a letter.

-

“George!” I hissed from a secluded corner of the library. This library was nice, but if I’m being honest I preferred the lighter atmosphere of the library at Beauxbatons.

 “Oh! Hello y/n, fancy seeing you here!” George teased and winked towards me. In return I rolled my eyes, but still had to suppress a giggle at his overused joke. 

 “Look I need to ask-“ I began to feel a little flustered.

 “How did I get my dashing good looks?” He ran a hand through his hair and struck a pose. 

 “No I-“ 

 “Sorry doll, I’m taken. But I have a twin!” George sent finger guns my way, and pretended to swagger away.

 “No! George!” As frustrating as it was, I had missed George’s little jokes. “Did you know Percy had a crush on me?” I questioned firmly. George’s jaw dropped open.

 “I mean-“ He ribbed his neck sheepishly “We used to suspect it in first and second year. But Fred beat him up about it and we thought that was that!” I buried my face in my hands, cringing at the very thought. Merlin’s soggiest sock couldn’t make this any worse. 

 “I think I know what happened,” I sighed. I felt defeated, and mean. I couldn’t believe the things I had said to Fred. How I’d brushed him away. Now the task at hand was talking to that Weasel that had ruined everything. 

 “Well, I don’t know exactly what conclusion you’ve reached,” George gently spoke. “But I think you should read this,” Before he left he pressed the folded, crumpled parchment into her hand. 

-

“George!” Fred sang out as soon as George entered their dorm room. “I have a plan!” He leaped from bed to bed in a happy spirit that often accompanies new hopes.

 “I’m going to ask y/n to the ball!” He exclaimed. George sighed, unsure how his brother thought this would instantly fix things. Luckily for Fred, George had pulled a few extra strings for the odds to be completely in his favour. 

-

“Marie!” I sobbed as she came into the dorm. This was probably not how she expected to find me tonight, and the shock on her face was obvious. 

 I had ripped the covers off of my bed and wrapped them around me like a large cocoon. Then I had promptly laid down and cried for the better part of an hour. At least it was a good test of my makeup setting charm.

 The letter is what did it. Oh! The letter! I cradled it ever closer to my heart as I sobbed again. He had written with all the heartbreak I had felt, with all the love I had felt, with all of the friendship I had felt. And it never got to me! Just as my letter never got to him!

 “He loves me Marie!” I gasped. “He wrote me five letters.” Marie, like the true friend she was, promptly crawled into the cocoon with me and began to rock me softly. 

 “Hush, mon caneton,” she whispered. I steadied my breathing and hugged her tightly. Thank goodness that we had both decided to come on this trip. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

 “I love him too,” I admitted. 

 “Well what are you waiting for?” Marie asked with a knowing look on her face, and I slowly nodded. She was right.

 “Go attack that little weasel.” I laughed in delight, and Marie gave me a soft shove out of our cocoon of blankets.

 “Go!” She repeated, and with another shove I stumbled out of our room. I had no clue where I would find a certain Percy Weasley at this hour, and I didn/t quite know where to begin. Only one person reminded me of Percy, and I figured I may as well head to his room.

 “Professor Snape.” I smiled politely as he opened the door after I knocked, and he merely scowled.

 “Pray tell me what you are doing outside of my classroom.” He sneered, and I stopped smiling.

 “Do you know where I can find-” I was rudely interrupted by none other than the man of the hour.

 “Miss L/n! How I’ve longed to see you!” Percy popped out from being Snape, and I found myself being guided away from the dungeons by the very person I wanted to slap.

 “I’m sure I have longed to see you more.” I said, and he squeezed my shoulder. I almost threw up, right then and there.

 “Why were you looking for me, my dearest?” I was two seconds away from punching the smarmy bastard in the face, and I took a deep breath.

 “I just wanted to let you know that if you ever try to come between Fred and I again, the letters you stole will be the least of your worries. I will ruin you, Weasley, and you better not forget it.” I snarled as I shoved his shoulder before walking off, and the stunned silence fueled my satisfaction.

 It was time to find my Weasley.

 Twenty minutes later and I couldn't find a trace of him. My heart sunk to my stomach. What if my coolness had finally gotten through and he had given up? Was he avoiding me? I slumped into my seat at dinner and leaned my head on Marie's shoulder.

 "I can't find him," I sighed. She reached over and patted my back while she swallowed her bite of quiche.

 "Well, he couldn't have gone too far!" She attempted to cheer me up. Out of habit, my eyes wandered over to the area where Fred and George usually sat. I raised an eyebrow as I found that their spots were empty. Loud footsteps behind me caught my attention and I snapped my head around the other way.

 Thank Merlin, it was George. He was jogging towards me and his robes flapped behind him.

 "Y/n!" He greeted me once he was within earshot. I waved and grabbed another piece of pizza.

 "You play quidditch at Beauxbatons, right?" Marie perked up beside me and grinned before proceeding to sing my praises.

 "She's only the best chaser I've ever seen! You should've seen last sea-" I cut her off, blushing furiously.

 "Yes. I play quidditch." I rolled my eyes.

 "Great, can you help me with something?" George begged. I nodded and followed him out of the room. The sun was just beginning to set, and the air was quite chilly. I wondered what he could possibly need help with at this time. Especially since quidditch had been cancelled this year!

 After we left the hall, and I was extremely puzzled what was happening I began to ask a few quesitons.

 "Do you know where Fred is? I can't find him," I asked George who looked completely bewildered.

 "Fred? No I have no idea!" His voice reached incredibly strange pitches and I realised quite quickly that he was lying.

 "So. What do you need my help with?" I suppressed a grin as I began to see what was happening.

 "Er," There was a pause while George thought of what exactly he had summoned me for. Luckily for him, Ron and Ginny were walking by at that exact moment. "Ron was thinking of trying out for keeper!" He explained desperately.

 Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and she slugged Ron in the arm.

 "Good for you little brother!" Ron's face burned red as they walked away and he began to make excuses.

 "Don't we need Ron for this then?" I grinned at George, and he began to mutter something under his breath.

 The rest of the walk passed relatively quickly as George and I caught up about everything that had happened since I moved. We easily fell into conversation thanks to Fred keeping us both updated on the other. Finally we arrived at the field.

 "Godric! I'm late for something." George looked at his non-existent watch and ran away before I could stop him.

 "What the hell?" I muttered as I began walking back to the exit of the quidditch pitch. Unfortunately, in my angry haze I tripped right over a broom that was lying on the grass. Gingerly, I picked it up, and paused. Why not, I thought, as I mounted the stray broom.

 "Y/n!" From a distance, I thought George had come back. I sped forward slightly, moving the broom precisely and smoothly to greet him. Of course, by 'greet' I meant cast a harmless hair changing charm. Luckily (for his sake,) I quickly noticed it was Fred. Unluckily (for my sake) I was now incredibly flustered and unsure what to say. I chanced a timid wave, and thanked Merlin when he returned it, equally timidly.

 "I'm sorry!" I instantly shouted, speeding down from my perch in the sky. I pulled out of the short dive just a few feet off of the ground.

 "No y/n," Fred shook his head "I'm sorry. I should have known you would never stop writing." He stared at his feet, looking ashamed. "Must've been that goddamn bird," He let out a nervous laugh, but continued to stare at the ground. I didn't want to bring Percy into this yet. He didn't deserve a place in what I hoped would become a treasured memory.

 "It wasn't your fault," My heart was breaking at the pain on his face. But how do you break this sort of news kindly? "I shouldn't have thought you would stop writing either, I just-" I trailed off, unsure what to say.

 "What was in that last letter you sent?" He asked glancing up. I paused, hopping off my broom. Fred followed in his actions, and our eyes finally met.

 "Wait, you never even saw it?" I knew that he'd most likely never seen it, but I had always imagined Percy had let him receive it at least. Little did I know the precision that Percy carried out his plans with.

 He had begun by snatching a letter here and there. Laying the foundation for doubt of each other's consistency of correspondence. He had saved the letters sent by me, burned the ones sent by Fred, and written his own imaginary replies. I had become an obsession for him. So much so that when he saw me this year, he thought we would instantly pick up where we had left off in his imagined reality.

 The day I had sent the letter to Fred. That all important letter. He had taken it and saved it for himself. Looking upon my words of love, and imagining they were from him. The thought of Percy receiving those words instead of Fred brought tears to my eyes.

 "No," He admitted.

 "I wanted to tell you-" I cut myself off. What if all Fred was searching was the friendship we had previously shared? I bit my tongue and held a silent debate until I finally plucked up my courage.

 "I love you," I let the sweet words fly away towards him. I hoped they'd be returned. That their fragile wings would be cradled, rather than crushed. A momentary surprise froze Fred. The stress of the situation made those few seconds feel like hours. Hours of anguish and feeling entirely exposed and unprotected. Finally, Fred sprang in to motion. He rushed towards me, as his lips found mine, my eyes fluttered closed. It was just Fred and I, the aligned planets watching as their plan fell into place. Fred tasted like strawberries and he sucked softly on my lip. I couldn’t help from running my hand through his messy hair, and I felt him grin into the kiss. 

 "Go to the Yule ball with me my darling?" He asked softly as we broke apart.

 "Of course my love," I let my head rest on his strong chest as we let the last flickers of sunset wash over us.

 The ball had approached much quicker than expected. Over the past two weeks, a lot had happened. First, I had explained to Fred what Percy had done. I didn't want to create a rift between the brothers, but it was the only way to fully explain and resolve the situation. Fred had looked very solemn, and confronted Percy who denied everything. Unfortunately for him, he carried around my last letter with him which was quite incriminating when we discovered it.

 Fred and I had hardly spent a moment away from each other.

 I had a periwinkle blue mini dress on, which hugged tightly around me. Over top, I had a sheer silvery blue gown that shimmered like stars as I moved. All of the Beauxbatons girls had picked something of the same color scheme, but this dress felt so me that I didn't mind. After curling my hair into delicate ringlets I helped Marie curl her hair and then we left.

 I took a deep breath as we glided down the stairs after Madam Maxine. I could hardly contain my excitement. My heartbeat felt similar to when I was anticipating a particularly good match of quidditch.

 Fred was standing there looking spectacular in his dress robes. He had charmed his tie to be a periwinkle blue, and he was holding a small bouquet of lavender flowers. The moment I smelled them, I remembered that moment with him on that broom. I remembered the rush of adventure, the hint of recklessness, but most importantly: the trust. I trusted him so much.

 He took my hand, and we silently walked into the ball. It almost felt too perfect. Too cliche, not unique enough for such a special story. Our story that we were writing one page at a time.

 After a few songs spent pleasantly dancing, laughing, and whispering lost words to each other I had an idea.

 "Freddie?" I whispered as I leaned my head onto his chest.

 "Mmm?" He swayed us gently to the sweet music.

 "Can we leave?" I asked. "I want to go on a broom with you again," I explained. His face softened and he took my hand as we walked to the quidditch pitch.

 Here we were. Up in the air again. I spread my arms, testing if my eagle wings were still there. They were. And as an eagle, I had finally reunited with my nest. I brought my wings back down to take hold of the broomstick. This time I was in control, and I'd had a bit more practice than 10 year old Fred had had. So, I sent us into a steep dive, almost until it felt like a free fall.

 After the rush of adrenaline I soared back up until we reached the roof of Gryffindor tower. I couldn't stop myself from imagining how many sleepless nights we could've spent talking here. How many breakfasts, and boring classes I could've spent with him.

 As I saw the moonlight softly reflect off of Fred's pale face I realised then and there. He was my soulmate. He was my perfect match. He was the person that I didn't want to spend a single minute without unless I absolutely had to.

 I told him so too.

 "Freddie," We were holding hands again as we laid on top of a soft blanket he had conjured to lay down on the roof. The incline of it was just barely safe to lay down on without sliding off. I didn't feel scared though, I had Fred to anchor me.

 "You look beautiful in the moonlight y/n," He turned his lively eyes towards me. I blushed and smiled slightly.

 "I love you so much," I began. He kept his eyes trained into mine. Giving me his full attention. "I don't want to lose you again, okay?" I took a somewhat shaky breath. " I just mean, the past couple weeks have felt like a dream.” I said, and Fred held my hand.

 “I know, pretty girl. You won’t lose me again, not if there’s anything I can do about it.” I squeezed his hand back, and we watched the night sky in all its glory.

 I was standing in my dorm room, nearly ready to leave when an owl flew into the window. Plonk, I realised it was poor Errol. It appeared he could hardly handle a flight around Hogwarts anymore. I tucked him into a small blanket and gave him an owl treat. He let out an appreciative coo and snuggled into the cozy nest I'd made. I unrolled the parchment, and twirled the sprig of lavender that had been in the ribbon between my fingers.

 Dearest y/n,

 Today you go back to Beauxbatons. I'm sorry I can't be there in person, but I'm happy to tell you everything is going really well.

 The shop looks amazing, although they can't have it ready for us until some time next year. I figure this will work well anyway since we still have a few more products to perfect. (Thanks for helping us with the antidote for the puking pastilles by the way!!)

 Also, the apartment will be perfect I think. We would be on one of the very top floors, so you might feel a bit at home given your talent for quidditch. It's close to diagon alley, but actually in muggle London, which I thought you might like. I said we'd take it within the next 8 months, since I'll obviously be leaving school before graduation and you'll be graduating in March.

 I hope the carriage ride is fairly nice. I know it won't be perfect since yours truly isn't there (wink wink) but I hope I'll be able to visit soon! I have to go for another surprise I'm working on, but I'll owl soon. I have my eye out for lovesick, letter stealing brothers this time!

 Yours forever and a day,

 Freddie

[filypadreams]

Fleeting Touches

( Asmodeus x GN!MC)

Synopsis: Do you know what fleeting means? It means you should apreciate every moment while you can. Even if you get lost in illusions for it.

TW: Slight angst

_______________________________

The streets were full this time of the year, even with the cold weather. It was a race for most humans to get that last minute gift for that special someone.

Their children, parents, grandparents or significant others. For some reason it's tradition to get that one person a last minute present.

And that's always a disaster...

" Calvin Klein One... with bergamot, cardamom, pineapple and jasmin. Tropical? Or maybe Dolce & Gabanna Velvet Exotic Leather. Traditional and italian... also at good prices, I need to ask if they are antiallergenic! "

I spend 15 minutes on the line but get both perfumes and walk outside onto the sunny street. It's not as busy as the mall and I really should get home before it gets to close to one pm.

Today, faces are a blur to me.

" Thanks for the tip Asmo, I was sick of the strong scents of women perfumes and the always down to earth male ones~"

I cheerfully speak to myself while touching the 'tattoo' above my left breast.

It's a one-way communication system. I'm not even sure Asmodeus hears what I tell him but I sure do hear his thoughts.

" Ohhh, bootie alert at 12! No, wait! Delicious curves at 4- oohh...that's a mix at 9 o'clock~!"

I see a man, woman, I think the last one is in mid transitioning but I'm not sure.

" He'll be a beautiful man, I'm 95% sure!"

" Maybe it's a 'they'... not that you can hear me."

Though I agree, they look...handsome. With a nice physique, curly shoulder lenght hair, smooth skin as if rivalling Asmos' ... and who can resist a dark biker leather jacket?!

No, stop. Don't let the mark influence you from your mission MC!

Setting the christmas gifts.

I start running in the direction of the bus station when I collide with a tall lady, her black shades falling to the ground from her beautiful light pink sweater.

My head hurts. It felt like hitting a brick wall...or Beel.

Are my only thoughts as I scramble to pick her glasses and my shopping bag. Good thing it was well packed.

"Oh my~ I'm so sorry, I didn't notice such a beautiful face in this crowd. I was retoutching my eyeliner, huhu! Let me help~"

The lady crouches down next to me. I notice from the corner of my eyes that she is also wearing a black turtle neck... and has peach coloured hair...

" Asmo?!"

Darkness. A cold hand covers my eyes while the other takes the shades from mine and exchanges them with my bags...it seems. He whispers is my ear.

" Now, now. Don't ruin the surprise! I'm just a beautiful 'lady'. Hahaha."

And with that he dissapears. Everything seems to dissapear, as soon it gets dark and I'm sitted in my couch, replaying today's event.

It felt so real... I called him a lady.

Well... I don't think Asmodeus minds.

I walk around the tree, putting down colorfully wrapped gifts. That I went purposely to markets and malls to have wrapped!

Diavolo better play Santa and give me some grimm if I ever get an invite to Devildom, I blew most of my allowances with these!

On the blue corner I have vynil disks and office supplies. Getting stuff for Lucifer is hard.

The yellow corner... is a mess of acessories like shades and wristwatches and some jackets. Mammon needs a new one.

The orange corner was the cheapest but most difficult to prepare. I wrapped most of my otaku related rarities, in Devildom at least, and put them in a pile. Levi better apreciate my figurines!

The green pile was also simple. It's actually small with my old literature books. All from great authors and all trying to escape religious judgement so Satan might find that amusing.

I don't have a red corner, just baked goods on the table and two glasses of milk in case Santa visits.

I put purple pillows, warm robes, matresses and scarves around the tree. Belphie won't lose comfort soon.

And now finishing the pink corner.

There's the perfumes, some cosmetics I really don't get but my 'chest instinct' said to go ahead and...

" I hope he likes this fluffy bunny backpack!"

I kinda wanted the bunny for myself... but I can't.

The day went on so fast... why am I even doing this? Might as well call Solomon and offer him these so he can perform his rituals. I'll just wake up tomorrow to a full room of wasted money and a mountain of calories. An empty heart.

I caress the bunny when i hear rustling on my door. Something is playing with my wreath? I pick a knife from the dinning table.

" W-who's there?! Show yourself fiend!"

" Aww, that hurts to hear MC-chan..."

From the darkness into the light walks the same person I crashed into this morning.

" You better drop that knife before someone gets hurt..."

" How...Asmo, how are you here?! Why?!!"

Tears come to my eyes. It's been a while. A long while since I've seen any of them. Since I've had slumber parties with Asmodeus, self care sessions...

He shakes his head cleaning the few teardrops away with the back of his index finger and walks to the tree, messing with the gifts.

" Tears don't suit you well. Oh, you even got something for Barbatos... I'm slightly jealous, I thought you only thought about me~"

He starts opening his gifts.

" Wait! It's not even Christmas Eve. We need to wait until midnight at least..."

As I try to explain, his taller stature hovers over me, playing with my hair and putting a mistletoe, secure in it's knots. Wait... how is he so tall? The height difference is too abnormal.

" I'm afraid the concept of time doesn't apply in dreams, MC."

" H-huh?! Wha... the day... went on really fast. So you..."

I look down slightly dissapointed. The floor starts cracking and falling. Darkness and constelations starting to form under my feet.

" Afraid not. Christmas is not really part of our traditions, haha. Even if we had a great celebration that one time Diavolo proposed we did it with the exchange students.

I like the angel."

He points to the tree top.

" Oh, that... I was thinking of Beel and Belphie when I made the decision. It's my oldest decoration. I was thinking on putting a star this year but... I got a literal gut feeling to keep the angel."

I smirk at Asmodeus as he puts an arm around my shoulders, leaning me a little closer to him. We both apreciate the flashing lights from the tree. Even if it was fake. The rest of the room crumbles away and Asmo let's go of me to pick his gifts and stuffing them inside his new backpack.

" I know he was thinking of the only person that shines as bright as us two together.

Hmm, but you haven't been taking good care of yourself, MC-chan! Remember to follow the morning routine I gave you so your skin is almost as perfect as mine!"

" I haven't been feeling like...doing much I guess. I had a lot of work this year."

" Humans are always full of work. I mean me too.

Since RAD is closed for the 'holidays', we are back to our other jobs. Things get dirty real fast, so many pests! Maybe we can actually come visit during New Year's."

After apreciating the representation if Lilith, he turns to berate me, before picking a bottle of perfurm and examining it, followed by spraying some on while making a spin as he explains his bodyguard/demon threat exterminator job.

He must have loved it because he transforms, with a smile on his face and his horns move like pincers.

" I always found your demon form the funniest."

" ...Dear, I'm fabulous."

" Hahahahaha! Ok, but if this isn't a Diavolo, Barbatos or Lucifer' scheme... is it Belphegor's? You mentioned dreams, and it explains the constelations."

I look around, darkness being drilled by the light of many tiny stars.

" I think I see taurus... and of course he had ro include pisces. Mammon is supposed to be the greedy one, this is OUR moment!"

He huffes and crosses his arms. I chuckle and pat his back.

" So, I'm asleep at the same time as Belphie."

" It's night time in both worlds. You could say I'm an intruder. I was taking my immersive nightly bath as I prepared to get into your dreams~ I hope I didn't actually fall asleep, my poor skin!"

" How did you convince him?"

I wonder as he touches his arm and the parts of revealed skin as if to feel if something was wrong with his real body.

" Oh, well...he actually wanted to see you to! I also promised to take more cute pictures of Lucifer for him. But I don't think he admires his beauty the same way I do-"

The world trembles. Belphie must be waking up. And angry...

" Oh, dear! I must have upset him. This illusion will end soon and you'll wake up in your bed as if nothing happened. I hope you don't forget me."

Asmo walks closer and caresses my face. Kissing my forehead.

It's warm. Fleeting but I can feel his gestures. Even in a dream.

I slap his hand when I feel it sliding down my back a little too far.

" Ouch! My nail...ok, ok. I'm sorry! Won't happen again~"

He apologises when making contact with my burning stare and proceeds to act innocently after.

" It better not. I... think it will be difficult to forget you. Specially now. Make sure the others know-! Ahh!!!"

Another quake and I "conveniently" fall in his arms. I'm able to see his pixie sized wings batting in excitement.

" This is a cliché."

I mumble as Asmo wraps his arms around me.

" I need to go. I'm sure we'll see each other soon. You know I'll always be here. Literally. And I do hear you, you know?"

He pokes his mark, above my heart and pouts.

" ...I know... see you soon Asmo."

I pick his hand and kiss it.

Then I wake up. It's still the middle of the night. My room is cold.

There on my window sill are two roses. One peach and one dark pink.

The End

______________________________

Special dedicatory to: @shortnessangel

and @asmoluvsyou .

Bunny Backpack comes from: https://kawaiibabe.com/products/creepy-bun-backpack

(Curiosities: The perfumes are gender neutral, I can still link you the page where I found them.

The colour of the roses have a specific meaning. I can post the pic I got it from if you want.)

[radstronaut]

And This is How I See You | Sebastian Aho

this work is inspired by Serendipitous by @lulucanwrite warnings: n/a  word count: 3490 note: this is a gift for @lulucanwrite​ and basically serves as a prequel/spinoff/inspiration from Serendipitous, which is one of the sweetest stories ever. it reads like an imagine fic, but really it’s a lovely little story about two people who have loved each other forever and who will always love each other, featuring pining, friends to lovers, reconnections after many years apart, some found family feels, and a healthy dose of soft angst. highly recommend because it is extremely good. this is an imagining of the two in her story, the year that the main character leaves for America, and Sebastian knows he has to say goodbye, but doesn’t know how to say “I love you,” or maybe, actually, he does.  (title inspiration from Sarah McLachlan’s Wintersong)

“We still have to get our tree and visit dad,” she says, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I’m just not sure.”

“Please? I want to go throw snowballs at windows. Like when we were little. Come with me, one last time,” Sebastian implores. His face is twisted, trying not to show any of the emotions brewing deep within his belly, trying not to let any of his feelings towards her spill out with every word that tumbles from his lips.

Everything is laced with the knowing that this is their last Christmas together. Even the cups of coffee neatly placed on the table between them suddenly feel less warm. Sebastian can feel the time slipping away from them the longer they both sit there.

She seems to consider the proposition but she is stoic. Sebastian can’t read her. She thins her lips and pulls her cup of coffee to them, drawing in a long sip. Sebastian realizes that he’s holding his breath when she sets her cup down, looks up to the ceiling and back down, then speaks.

“Okay,” she says softly, still wavering and unsure. “But I need to be back in time to pick a tree with my mom.”

He cracks a smile at her agreement, brown eyes lighting up, and continues to push his luck. “What if we pick a tree and bring it for her, what do you think?”

“She will want me home soon,” she sighs, a small frown forming on her lips. “We’re supposed to spend the day together.”

“It’s not even ten,” Sebastian counters. He is determined to suck the marrow out of their last Christmas together and he’s been planning each detail meticulously for a few weeks now. Plus, he may or may not have already run it by her mom, but he wants to keep it a surprise, so he adds, “And I think your mom will be okay with it.”

Her eyes narrow, and she draws the mug of coffee to her lips like a seasoned veteran at only thirteen. God, Sebastian thinks, she has already lived an entire life in her eyes. It’s as if it has taken it all out of her, watching her dad get sicker and sicker, and then… well, yeah. He can’t even imagine that word, it feels too foreign. But he does know that losing her father changed her.

He remembers a time, back when they were younger, that her eyes would sparkle and her laughter would fill the room. Now, her laugh is maybe fewer, further between; she measured and guarded. But those moments where she lets her guard down completely, throwing her head back and laughing, filled his heart with joy. Each time she laughed, his heart felt softer and softer towards the world. It was her laugh. That’s how he knew.

“What do you mean, you think she’ll be okay with it?”

She tosses a lock of brown hair over her shoulders with a free hand, carefully gripping her mug with the other while she does so. Sebastian watches, his lips curling upwards into a telling smile. “Nothing,” he says plainly.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” she lifts a brow. The mug thuds dully against the table of the coffee shop as she sets it down.

“You can’t hide anything from me,” he retorts, a little stupidly, pursing his lips before immediately bursting out laughing, and she laughs, too, unable to control herself. “Okay, okay. She said I could steal you for a while, I asked.”

“Why would you--”

“Ah-ah,” he lifts a finger and waggles it back and forth. “No questions.”

“Wow,” she raises her hands in surrender. “Remember me when you’re famous.”

He grins, but doesn’t grace her with an answer. He stands and takes her now-empty mug to return and tosses her napkins in the trash for her, a silent gesture of both affection and nudging her along. She gathers her things into her little bag: a small notebook and pen, a napkin where she’s jotted something so fast that Sebastian can’t read it, and her wallet, which is navy blue and patterned with fading gold stars.

Christmas music plays softly in the background, a gentle jazzy rendition of Last Christmas, and right before they reach the door, Sebastian stops. The music envelops them, making the air feel warmer, the light in the spacious cafe a little more golden. Sebastian smiles as she looks at him, and she stops, too, and then reaches a hand towards his cheek. His heart flutters. She simply adjusts the scarf pulled around his neck, and reflects his smile. “It’s cold,” she says.

“Oh,” Sebastian breathes, as she slides past him and swings the door open. The cold air rushes in, and they step out together, Sebastian right behind her, as she turns around to face him.

“Where are we going?” And then, at the same time he opens his mouth to reply, “Right, you said no questions.”

He grins as he jumps and steps in front of her to lead the way, taking a leisurely pace as they head out into the open air. Flurries of snow float about as they stroll down the street, and a gentle silence falls upon the two of them. It’s always been this way. She and him were comfortable enough that they could sit quietly together for hours, her with a book in her lap and him scribbling his way through his math homework, or the two of them side-by-side, quietly watching TV. It was the sort of friendship where he never felt pressured to have something to say or worry about taking up space, because the way their presence mingled with each other was enough to take up that quiet space.

Before, he didn’t think about it at all. It was just a simple part of who they were together, the same way somebody liked pasta or the color blue. Now, he takes notice, carving out the feelings of every second spent quietly together in his mind. A part of him wonders if he will ever find a friendship like this again.

A part of him also knows that this isn’t friendship, and it hasn’t been for some time. The way they walk together in perfect sync reminds him of it. The comfortable silence whispers to him how much he loves her. His father would say, Son, you’re thirteen. You don’t know anything about love. He’s thirteen, sure, but he has never been more certain about anything in his life.

As they walk, he feels their fingers brush together. Normally he’d let the soft tingle of their bodies touch linger as a memory but today he grabs her gloved hand and holds it in his own, and she doesn’t resist. They settle like that as the snow from days past crunches underneath their feet, leaving their memory behind in a little trail of footprints, two sets right beside each other.

The town, too, is quiet, just like it so often is on the morning of Christmas Eve. Families are scrambling to decorate their trees and prepare meals, but here, the two of them walk quietly side by side through the center of town as if there’s nothing else in the world but them. Sebastian imagines his family hurrying about the house--his mother, especially, he can see her hard at work--and for a second a flash of guilt for not being home comes over him, but it’s gone as soon as he looks over at her, and she smiles back at him. He’ll be home later. It’s fine.

He tries to commit her gentle smile to his memory as he speaks. “If your mom wants, I can come help with the tree.”

“You should be with your family,” she replies so quickly, without even having to think. “Besides, she can handle it.”

“I know you both can handle it,” Sebastian says, “but I want to help, if you need.”

“I think that your own mom would be very upset if you weren’t home to help decorate your own tree. It’s fine, seriously.”

He hums to himself before responding, “All right.” And then, “But if you need anything, you know you can always ask.”

Her smile radiates with the gentle warmth of the hearth on a frozen day, loving and thankful. “Don’t worry. I know.”

He can’t help himself but to reply, “I know you know,” and then let a little laugh out through his nose. “But still.”

She’s quiet now, and so is he, but he remains unworried. They are past where the road is lined with shops and have started to come upon homes with lit windows standing against the dimness of wintry daytime and the steam of heaters or the smoke of fireplaces billowing from their roofs into a cloudy sky. Sebastian stops and turns to face her.

“What?” She asks, raising a brow quizzically.

He lifts a finger to his lips, raises a brow, and then leans down, scooping up a ball of snow in his hands and begins to pack the snow together. She opens her mouth and takes in a breath to say something, but before she can speak he’s packed the snow tightly and wound his arm back. Sebastian leans his whole body into his throw as he lets the snowball go and watches with childish delight as it bursts against one of the lit windows of a house.

“Sebastian!” She cries, but her look of judgement and surprise quickly dissipates into a fit of laughter as Sebastian, unbothered, bends down again and starts to pack another handful together and takes off running.

“Come on!” He yells at her, gesturing with his snowball-filled hand for her to run after her. “You can’t get caught!”

“That,” she huffs as she starts to jog behind him, “is so childish!”

“Don’t be lame,” he says as he turns around and backpedals, a smile splitting open across his face. He whirls around and once again uses the whole of his scrawny, adolescent body weight to chuck the densely-packed snowball at another house window. “Your turn!”

She frowns a little and rolls her eyes, but he knows that deep down it isn’t even a question for her, and he’s right, because she leans over faux-reluctantly and scoops up some of the powder and runs ahead of him, giggling as her gloved hands palm over the snow in her hands. She turns and lifts a leg, aiming for a window. Sebastian’s grin grows even further and then he’s hit square in the chest with her snowball before he can even process that she’s spun around to face him.

“Ha!” she bursts out, cackling, mouth wide with delight.

For a moment, he is completely stunned. Sebastian swears he can feel time stop right in that moment, with a chorus of her laughter mingling with the snow swirling softly in the air. Her mouth is wide open, and she’s grinning, eyes squinty and nose scrunched just a bit. Flakes of snow catch in her dark brown hair, and she clasps her hands gleefully in front of her chest.

He takes it all in, every single detail, because underneath their laughter, underneath the crunching snow and the powder of snow that’s spread across his chest, both of them know that this moment is decidedly a last. Their last Christmas, their last snowball fight, the last chance for him to make this something more.

And then, just like that, he snaps back to reality and is laughing, too, packing his own snowball together before hurling it at her as she dashes away from him and he follows behind. They go at it for a few blocks, gathering snow and making balls and pitching them as hard as they can at each other, until she heads into an open patch of untouched snow and flops herself down into its softness.

He flops down right beside her, breath leaving in tired puffs, the hot breath burning his throat in the cold of December, staring up at the grey-white sky and watching the slightly-darker snow swirl through the air.

“Thank you,” she says after a second, and he turns his head to look over at her. She meets his gaze with a pink-cheeked smile, and continues, “for helping me forget about everything.”

He stares at her, watching her breath leave in puffs of condensation in the air, pink lips parted slightly as her chest rises and falls. A strand of hair lays astray on her forehead, but she’s ignorant to it and to Sebastian it is just another sign of her beauty. She closes her eyes and sighs softly, and she’s so fucking beautiful he can barely breathe, or maybe he just can’t catch his breath because he’s been running, he can’t say. Either way, he lays there for a second, drinking her in, before he speaks. “Of course. Anytime.”

“I just… really appreciate you.”

Each word drips with more meaning than he can fathom into thoughts, much less words. The way her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. The pink of her cold nose. Her fingers laced together, laying across her chest. The way the sky is so pale and pastel and how the snow falls and the town is so quiet that they can hear the strange crystal drizzle as it lands on different surfaces.

Sebastian can feel the words he wants to say to her forming on his lips, and he draws in a breath to say them. Time slows down around them until it’s just the two of them, laying there in the snow. Nothing else but them. God, he knows this is his chance to say it. He meets her eyes and she smiles a smile so familiar to him that it has come to feel like home, and he feels those words on his tongue and on his lips, wanting to fall out.

He swallows. Takes in a breath. Then thins his lips, and smiles back at her. The air is thick with expectation, with the words he can think over and over in his head but just can’t bring himself to say.

“What?” she asks, a sparkle in her eyes. “You looked like you were about to say something.”

“Nothing,” he answers, breathy and hopeless. “I appreciate you, too.”

She responds with a thankful look and turns her head back so she’s staring straight up, watching the snow fall into her face. He does the same. He feels the moment slip away from them and instead of grasping on, he lets it go. Maybe he’s a coward who will never say it, but maybe there’s no point in telling her what they both already know.

They lay there in silence until finally, he stands up, and extends a hand to help her. She grabs on and stands. Her hand lingers. Sebastian doesn’t want to notice this, but his gaze drops to the pink of her lips and just as quickly he has dropped his eyes, he looks back up into her eyes, pulls his hand away, smiles an easy smile, and says, “Let’s get you home.”

She nods and they start off together, footsteps in sync. Sebastian can tell from observing their surroundings that they’re only a block or so from her home where her mother is already cooking a feast and waiting for her.

“This is our last Christmas together,” she says after a moment, her words a coming-to-terms. “It just doesn’t seem real.”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m going to miss you so much, I don’t even know what to do.”

“It’s not forever.” But she bites her lower lip, an edge to her voice, because really, who can promise that? And he knows, too, that’s what she’s saying. She spent months saying goodbye to her dad, not knowing which goodbye kiss would be her last, and now Sebastian knows that you can’t ever bet on a goodbye as not the last.

But you also can’t bet any goodbye is the very last, either. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Sebastian grins. “Maybe you’re not hopeful, but I know I’ll find you. Even if it’s years from now, even if it’s when we’re twenty-six. I’ll just show up on your doorstep with a ring.”

She laughs out loud, a glorious, radiant laugh. Her eyes squint a bit and her nose scrunches slightly, and she tilts her head back. “I can’t believe you remember!”

“Of course I remember,” he laughs, “We’re basically betrothed, right?”

“Technically, it’s a marriage pact,” she says, shoving him in the side.

He giggles, playfully stumbling from her less-than-powerful shove. “Whatever you say!”

There is a pause as the laughter fades away. Then, she speaks.

“Promise me you’ll keep in touch?” Her voice is tiny, afraid.

“Okay, first of all, you’re not leaving tomorrow, so don’t be so dramatic,” Sebastian starts. “Second, you know I will. And you know we’ll see each other again. It’s not like you’ll never come back to Finland.”

“Or you can come to New York,” she says, hopeful. “I know we aren’t leaving tomorrow, but I had to say it sometime. I know I’m leaving. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Sebastian stops in his tracks, and turns, stepping in front of her, facing her now. His head tilts slightly to the side, and his dark brown eyes soften in the light of the snow. He takes her hands, squeezing gently, and says, “You can never lose me. I promise.”

Her hands squeeze back, and she lets out a shaky breath. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”

He lingers there for a second, before turning back around to step beside her again. Her house has come into view, with warm lights on in the front room, and he knows she will be home soon. Unspoken words hang heavy on his tongue, but he knows that what he wants to say, he already has said, in an unspoken way.

“Hey, you two!” A voice calls from just ahead of them, and he sees her mom sticking her head out of the door. “You’re back just in time!”

“I told you I’d bring her back,” Sebastian quips as they reach the front of her house.

“And I thank you very much for that,” her mother answers. “Why don’t you come in? I just made a late breakfast.”

“No, thank you. I really have to get home to my family, too.”

“I can’t believe you let me go,” she says to her mom, making a face. “I know how sacred Christmas is to you.”

“That is exactly why I let you go,” her mother answers, then meets Sebastian’s eyes, giving a knowing smile.

“Okay, then,” she replies, then turns around, wraps her arms around him and pulls Sebastian in, hugging him tightly. She rests her chin on his shoulder, and he breathes in her hair and the smell of her and really takes note for the first time that she has a specific scent to her, and that it’s warm and it’s comfortable and it’s good. His hands clutch at the small of her back, and he leans his head slightly against hers.

It’s him who finally breaks their embrace, murmuring a quiet “love you” as he pulls away.

“Did you say something?” She asks as she meets his eyes again.

“Nothing,” he says, his features soft and a little bit sad. “I’ll see you after Christmas, yeah?”

“For sure,” she nods, and then wraps an arm around his side, giving him one last squeeze before stepping up and into the doorway.

He notices now that her mother has made herself busy somewhere else in the house, having disappeared in the last few seconds, and he adds, “And tell your mom it was good to see her, please?”

“Of course.” Then she steps inside, closes the door behind her, and he’s standing there, alone. Just him.

For the first time all day, he realizes how freezing cold it is, and involuntarily rubs at his arms. Despite the fact this isn’t a final goodbye, he can’t help but feel the tug of knowing that there is still something between them, that there is something unfinished, waiting for resolve. Does he regret that? He isn’t sure. What he knows is that walking away feels wrong, and staying put feels weirder. So he gathers himself, and steps to the side of their door, right in front of the window that is illuminated with a golden glow that is a little more light than the winter morning.

Sebastian raps his knuckles on the frame of the window, trying to get both her and her mother’s attention. The two of them turn their heads, and when he sees that both of them are looking at him, he steps backwards. Then, he bends down, picks up a pile of snow in his hands, and throws one final snowball at their window. For good measure.

[shinyrockalaska]

Hanukkah at Hogwarts

Hello, this is a fanfic I wrote about my MC, last year, when some of Hanukkah days fell on Christmas. I'm now posting it for everyone to enjoy.

Summary: the Hogwarts Mystery friends celebrate Hanukkah with my half-jewish MC.

Word count: 1.5k

~~~

I sat down in the Christmas theme decorated great hall, but with a sad face. Seems like the rest of my family already got their plans for the holidays. Well, not really, but my mum decided yet again to visit her relatives, alone. That led to my dad deciding to take my toddler brother with him and celebrate Christmas with his own family. When I think about it, ever since Jacob went missing my family didn't got to celebrate any holidays at all. Not together, at least. Even now that I've found him I still don't know where he is, and I'm starting to doubt my family will ever be normal again.

"Hey what's with the sad face?" Rowan asked, sitting down next to me.

"Guess who's staying in Hogwarts during the holidays.. again.." I said in a fake-happy voice.

She gave me a sad smile, "I wish you could come with me to the tree farm but my entire family will be there so there's no place left.." "lucky you," I murmured, and she immidietly apologized.

"It's okay," I said, "technically I can spend Christmas with my dad, my little brother and my dad's family, but.. that's the problem."

"Your dad's family is a problem? Seriously I'm sure any of your friends would be happy to have you over you know.."

"No, no, it's not that.. just.. I'm tired of celebrating Christmas."

She looked surprised. "that is a sentence I never thought I would hear anyone say.."

"I mean, I guess it doesn't really matter what the holiday is if you spend it with the people you love, but.." I sighed, "you know I'm technically Jewish, right? I miss celebrating Hanukkah. I haven't got to do it ever since Jacob's gone missing and my mum slowly drifted away, you know.."

"Oh, yeah.." she said awkwardly, "well.. what do you usually do on Hanukkah?"

"We do a lot of things, like lightning the menorah. There's a place for 9 candles in it and each day we light one more candle than the day before. Starting with two candles- one, because it's the first day and the second is a candle that lit up the other candles. It's called shamash."

"That's sounds really interesting! How many candles do you lit? For how long? Why?" Rowan asked, curiously.

"I've never counted how many.. but we do it for eight days.. starting with two and each day we add another candle so-"

"44 in total. Continue please."

It was always impressive how quick and smart Rowan was.

"We do it because.. years ago.. oh no I barely remember! Something with a rebellion against greeks, the second holy temple, and a cruse of oil that was suppose to light the menorah for only one day but it lasted eight days so it was a miracle.. see, this is exactly the problem of not celebrating this holiday for so long!" I said frustrated, but Rowan continued to ask questions despite my despair.

"So it's a holiday about miracles. That's really nice! What else do you do?"

"W-well.. because of that cruse of oil we eat lots of food with oil. Not very healthy I must say, but tradition is tradition. We have latkes, which is kind of like a potato or cheese pancakes, and sufganyot, it's like jam filled doughnuts, but it can be filled with anything, really."

"So for eight days you light up candles and eat oil." she sounded a little judgemental but the way she described the holiday was funny.

"We don't have to eat things with oil, you know.. just a tradition." I laughed, "But we also get to play with a dreidel, it's a four sides spinning toy, that we play and bet on chocolate coins and we get money from relatives sometimes, and it's just.. a warm, cosy holiday?" I smiled, "I don't know how to explain it, I feel warm and peaceful inside, just remembering how fun was this holiday.."

"It does sound nice.. when is it exactly?"

"It already started but-"

"So let's celebrate! We've still got tonight, we can ask the house elves for the right food and we can light the menorah and play that game with that thing you said and-"

"Wait but I don't have any of those things how am I supposed to get them now?"

Rowan smiled at me, slyly, "You say it like you never invented a charm.. we'll use transfiguration of course.. come on!"

###

"I'm really glad that all of you get to go home for the holidays," I said.

I was sitting in the great hall now, with all my friends around me. It was all empty since everyone else were busy packing.

"I wish I could stay.." Barnaby sighed, "I'll be okay but my family isn't very nice, you know.."

"Yeah, me too" Ben murmured.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Your family's great. You're the one who's not being nice right now."

"It's not my fault they don't understand anything about magic and don't know what I've been through.." he shrugged.

"Yeah, ever since last year Beatrice acting.. you know.. and I don't really want to be stuck with her in the same room for the entire holiday.. " Penny agreed with him.

"C'mon guys, cheer up!" Charlie said before anyone else could complain about going home.

"Wait what are we doing?" Liz asked, as if she suddenly realized she was sitting with her friends. "I lost focus.." she admitted.

So I explained everything I explained to Rowan before, about the holiday, and how we plan to celebrate it.

We decided to meet up in the empty charms classroom, since Rowan already got premission from professor Flitwick to use it. Badeea, as the artist, volunteered to make a menorah, after I explained to her how it should look like. Meanwhile, I tried to make a dreidel. I couldn't just transfigurate one from nothing, so I decided to use a sneakoscope that I got from Jae once, and designed it as much as I could to look like a dreidel, with the right letters.

By sunset, when everyone met in the empty classroom, they were all excited to celebrate the holiday with me.

Badeea's handmade menorah looked beautiful, it was colourful and made out of clay. She even brought candles that Talbott conjured for her ("I picked candles in warm colours, for your warm holiday," she laughed.)

I set up the candles on their right place in the menorah, as everyone sat down in a circle around it. Then, I lit up the candles and said the blessings while everyone cheered.

"So what's next?" Andre asked as Rowan took a plate from behind her back, and showed us what's on it. "What's this?" Talbott asked and I smiled, "it's called sufganyot. Basically like a doughnut but with no hole and it's filled with jam." "Sweet! Give me some!" Tonks cheered while grabbing a few off the plate.

"Tulip, you've got those Candie I asked you for?" Rowan said with a smile on her face. "You know I always have Candies with me," she answered while showing us her bug full of candies. "I couldn't get those chocolates you told me about but candies are always good!" She explained.

"that's so cool! I'm surprised you managed to get the right food from the kitchen and bring so many candies!" I said.

I showed them the sneakoscope, "that's not how a traditional dreidel looks like, of course," I explained, "but we can still play with it. We need to divide the candies equally between all of us, then each round everyone will put one candy on the center of the circle and then everyone in their turn will get to spin the sneakoscope. See those letters I wrote on it? If it lands on this letter you get all the Candies in the middle and everyone have to put another candy, and so on."

"Sound's fun!" Chiara was the first to put a candy in the middle. "Prepare to be defeated!" Diego said, excitedly.

We started the game, and we played until bedtime, not noticing how time passes as we enjoy ourselves.

Barnaby was the first to lose, since he ate all his candies, rather than putting them in for the game. To no one surprise, Jae won, but he shared the candies with everyone, anyway.

"That was really fun! Thank you for sharing this holiday with us!" Penny said with joy. Everyone nodded with agreement.

It made me so happy, seeing all my friends celebrating my holiday, and enjoying it as much as I do. "you need to thank Rowan," I said, "She's the one who organized all of these.. I really appreciate it. That was seriously the best Hanukkah ever."

~~~

Happy Hanukkah!

To anyone who celebrate and seek representation as much as I do😂

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Two Christmas’ (Alec Volturi x Reader)

You were nervous. You were still working on your relationship with Jane but was disadvantaged since you were romantically involved with Alec. She thought you were taking her brother from her and it especially didn’t go well since you were human. Even Alec himself, had trouble with that sometimes. As of recently things were going well and you didn’t want to ruin that. 

You and Alec made plans for spending some time out of the castle on Christmas day which was tomorrow. Alec wanted Jane to come along since they didn’t like being apart unless they had to. Jane decided to go but they were interrupted by Aro, who offered his opinion. “I don’t believe you should, Jane. Such a day should be spent exclusively with your significant other. I don’t think (Y/N) would appreciate you coming along.” The twins were very disheartened by this so much so that they said nothing else about it. Alec only just telling you. While he was away to meet some nomads on the outskirts of Italy, you saw the opportunity to approach Jane and give her what you had been hiding all along.

You dug into your beside drawer taking out a box about the six of your palm. You’d never be ready so you immediately left, trying not to think too hard on what you were about to do. 

You knocked on the door, hiding the box behind your back and Jane opened it a second later with a skeptical look. “Hi Jane, I was hoping I could talk to you?” “...Very well. Close the door behind you.” Jane turned away and you hurried in, doing as she asked.  “Take a seat.” She gestured to the bed. You complied and she followed suit.  “You’ve been awfully quiet. You’ve been locked away in here for about two days now...are you okay?” “I can assure you, im fine.” She said with a stoic expression. It sounded systematic in how she said it. “Uhm, well, Alec told me-” “What do you have behind your back?” Jane tried to peer behind you but you continued to block her view. “I’ll show you in a second. I just want to talk to you about something first.” You said quickly and she remained quiet. “Alec mentioned that you two were talking about tomorrow.” she hummed in agreement, nodding once.  “He also told me what Aro said.” You didn’t get a response so you continued. “I didn’t think it fair for Aro speak for me. Truth be told, Alec didn’t tell me anything about this until just before he left. So i didn’t know that you coming was even on table but i wanted to tell you in person that I’d be thrilled if you came with us.” Jane seemed taken aback for a second. “But Aro-” “-was wrong, or at least, he wasn’t accurate. Christmas is about spending the time with the people you love and i want to spend it with my family.” “I dont understand.” Jane muttered. “I know you have your judgements about me and i know you think i’m going to snatch your brother and run away but I promise i have no intention. I find it admirable how close you two are, I wouldn’t dream of separating you. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t there, not just because i know it would dampen Alec’s mood but also because...you’re my sister.”  What really drove it home was you calling Jane your sister. She wouldn’t have believed you otherwise but if you were exceptionally cruel, you wouldn’t have went to such lengths. It made her second guess whether she was really losing her brother or if she was actually gaining someone else. 

“So, um, I got you something, consider it a Christmas present that’s also a peace offering?” You gave her a small smile holding out the black box. “I mean, im not really supposed to give you it until tomorrow and I didn’t get the chance to wrap it or anything but-” You were cut off when Jane gently took the box, looking shocked. “How...when?”  “I have my ways.” You joked lightly. She opened it and stared at it.

Inside was a silver charm bracelet, already including three charms. “I didn’t know what kind of charms you’d like or if you even liked charms so forgive me if you don’t like them.” You scratched behind your neck. One was red with black roses, another glittering gold and the last white and opaque.  “It’s beautiful.” Jane trailed her fingers along it. “Tell me about these...charms.” Jane said quietly.  “Oh well, you can pick your own and have as many as you like. Is your first time seeing them?” Jane nodded. “They look like small pendants.” You smiled. “Do you like it?” You asked and Jane nodded again. “Thank you. I’ve never received a gift for an occasion. Gifts are rare.” “Im glad, i didn’t show Alec to see if you’d like it. I haven’t got him anything or anyone else for that matter." Jane heard something as her head perked up. "Alec's returning. He's coming this way." "Hide that!" You said quickly with excitable glee as Jane quickly put it in her desk drawer and made her way back. 

A minute later, Alec walked through the door. "Im surprised to see you two together." "Yes well-" You spoke up but Jane interrupted you. "We missed you, brother. (Y/N), decided to visit and check on me. It's a sweet gesture, don't you think?" Alec nodded with a soft smile. "I appreciate you looking after my sister whilst I'm gone, cara mia." Alec looked at you before bending down to kiss your forehead. You smiled back at him as he moved to quickly kiss his sister's cheek and sat beside her. Before long he was lying on his back. "Alec, please do not make a mess of my bed." Jane scowled. Alec huffed and Jane lightly shoved his arm. "Jane, you know how to make a bed." "That doesn't mean I enjoy doing it." "We have to do it all the time." Alec muttered and Jane, alarmed, looked to you. "Your brother likes to wrestle. Imagine that, eh? A young guy -however old he is- being fueled with testostero-" Alec rolled over, covering your mouth. "let's go. You've said enough." You groaned. "Alright, alright, I'm going, I'm going." Alec hauled you up as you walked back to your shared room. 

He let you go in first, closing the door and wrapping his arms around you from behind. You turned to face him in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck as he smiled at you. “What are you two up to?” Alec’s voice was quiet. “Worried?” You teased. “No, I’m happy to see you both get along but Jane has taken to you rather quickly.” “It’s a start...I gave her a christmas present.” “You did? What did you give her?” Alec seemed surprised. “A charm bracelet, im sure you’ll see it.” “That’s very kind of you cara mia.” “Oh we aren’t done there, my love.” You grinned at him. “Do you remember telling me about your talk with Jane about tomorrow before Aro got involved?” “Of course.” “Well, I told Jane i wouldn’t have it any other way. I insisted that she come with us tomorrow.” “You did?” Alec’s smile vanished, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You nodded. “Of course I did. She’s your sister. I’m sure she’ll tell you exactly what i sa-” You were interrupted when Alec gave you a kiss before pulling you into a hug.  “Thank you.” You heard him say into your shoulder. 

Christmas day couldn’t have come fast enough. “Now that is a big Christmas tree.” You said gazing up at the huge decorated tree in the town square but also being met with falling snowflakes to the face. You turned to see both Jane and Alec, also looking up at the tree with violet eyes.  “It’s impressive, indeed.” Jane said. All the surrounding stores were shut but the lights on their display windows still on. One particular display window caught your eye. You gasped. “Oh Jane! Come and see this!” You took Jane’s hand and pulled her along, lightly running toward the window. Alec couldn’t help but smile at the sight of seeing the love of his life and his sister, hands interlocked as they rushed ahead. He stayed back admiring the sight before following after you.

You both peered into the window still holding hands. "More charms!" You exclaimed. "Oh, I love that one!" "I like the silver and blue one." Jane smiled. "Where is it?" You looked puzzled unable to locate it. Jane pointed to the charm. It was silver plated and navy blue with a slight shimmer to it, no where near as glittered as Jane's gold charm. "Oh me too!" You nodded profusely. As she lifted her hand to the window, a twinkle caught your eye. There, on her wrist, was the bracelet you got her which you were certain she had been hiding under her sleeve.

Last Christmas had went from uneasy to one of the best. You remembered it well. It didn't take long for Jane to accept you after that. Whilst the twins still preferred to have their own time together. You were included more often and Jane seemed much happier to see you giving you a smile as she would the Masters or Alec.

You bound into the room, Christmas Eve arriving once again. "Why don't you give your love for Christmas!?" You sang out as you enter the room. "Why hello to you too." Demetri turns to look at you with a smile. "So fun fact, I've got you guys presents this year. However...my bestie gets hers before any of you. She's my favourite." You grin handing Jane a small bag. Jane smirks as she opens the small bag to find another three charms, one however was silver and smooth which has her name on it in cursive. The perfect addition.

[setaripendragon]

Learning To Share - Roy - Part 7

Winry :: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 Roy :: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 Maes :: [Coming Soon] I finally figured out how to make this part do what I want! I’m still not 100% happy with the ending, but it’s close enough, and I figure I’ve made everyone wait long enough for this conclusion already. So, here it is. (And thanks to @thiatereika for their lovely comments that convinced me to dig this WIP out again <3)

Roy took Riza on a starlit picnic a little way outside the city itself, with all of her favourite foods and a bottle of wine he may have been saving for a day like this. It was a strangely humbling experience. He hadn’t seen Riza smile that much since before her father died. She was the picture of professionalism at work, and work made up of so much of what held them together that they rarely spent much time together away from the office. Seeing her with her hair down – literally and figuratively – was a startling reminder to Roy of just how much she kept hidden most of the time.

Then Edward made good on his promise, and ate lunch with Roy in the military cafeteria. There he regaled Roy with the story of how Winry had laughed herself sick when Edward told her and Al about wanting to date Riza. She and Al hadn’t had a problem with it, like Edward had predicted, and Al had said something about Edward having a type when it came to women, and Winry had been flattered by the comparison, in between mocking Edward for his military kink.

Then, Riza caught them both by surprise and took them on their first group date to a tiny, out-of-the-way bookshop that seemed to specialise in rare old texts. It was maybe a tactical mistake, because they almost lost Edward to the books, but once they’d pried him away at closing time with promises to return another day, he did thank Riza quite thoroughly, so perhaps she had known what she was doing after all. That was a night Roy wasn’t going to forget any time soon.

Al invited the pair of them to have dinner at the Elric-Rockbell-Chang residence, and while it took Riza a while to relax, Roy found that, after their middle-of-the-night heart-to-heart, he was almost at ease in Winry’s presence. They could have a conversation that was actually closer to friendly than civil, and at several points they ended up sharing exasperated or fond looks over Edward. It was good.

Roy was happy. More happy than he had been in a very long time, and really, he had Edward to thank for just about all of it. And with Riza there to hold them together, to keep them from being stupid martyrs when they didn’t need to be, Roy was far, far less frightened of losing him. Which meant it was time to face the music, and introduce Edward to his mother.

“Why are you telling me?” Riza asked when Roy explained his plans. “I’ve already met your mother.”

“Yes, exactly.” Roy replied, knowing he sounded plaintive and desperate and not caring. Admittedly, a big part of why he didn’t care was the way Riza’s eyes lit up with amusement and indulgence at his tone. “I could use the moral support.” He paused, and then added. “Also the backup, because if this goes how I’m expecting it to, we may very shortly be experiencing another coup.”

Riza did give a small huff of laughter at that. “Yes, alright.” She agreed, and Roy relaxed all at once. Funny, how this relationship business felt so much easier – for all it’s added complexity – with more people involved. “Hmm, you know, now that I think about it, they are rather similar sorts of people. I’m sure there’s a fascinating psychological paper in there, somewhere.” She mused, merciless.

Roy cringed. “Please stop.”

“Are you sure you still want me to come?” Riza challenged, tone light with her amusement.

“Against my better judgement, yes.” Roy assured her, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I think it would be nice, to do this together, all three of us.” Riza gave him such a shrewd look that Roy felt that all his secret hopes and fears were being laid out for her perusal, but in the end, she didn’t comment on whatever she might have read in his expression, just kissed him again.

And then the day arrived.

“This is a brothel.” Edward announced, stopping dead on the pavement outside Madame Christmas’s to stare.

“Yes.” Roy confirmed, a hand on Edward’s back to nudge him towards the door. Edward didn’t budge, and a glance at his expression showed golden eyes narrowed in a sharp, almost scientific sort of curiosity.

“This is where we’re meeting your mum?” Edward checked.

“Yes.” Roy said again, long-suffering and amused in equal measure.

Riza was the one who took pity on Edward. “It is her place of business.” She pointed out. “And she lives upstairs, with the girls who don’t yet have the funds, or the inclination, to invest in their own residences.”

“So Roy’s mum works in a brothel?” Edward asked, still more curious than anything else, and it made Roy smile. A glance showed him a similarly fond expression on Riza’s face, and she gave him a knowing look when she caught his eye. There weren’t, after all, many people who would take that sort of thing in stride, but they had both known that Edward would. It was good to be proven right.

“Yes, she does.” Riza confirms for him, amused.

Edward finally started moving again, head swivelling this way and that as they passed through the door and across the tastefully decorated room cluttered with tables and booths and mood lighting – nearly empty at this time of day – to the bar. Roy’s mother was already there, leaning one elbow on the bar and watching them with a shrewd gaze and raised eyebrows. Her eyes flicked pointedly from the hand Riza had tucked into Roy’s elbow, to the hand Roy had placed low on Edward’s back, and Roy smiled helplessly.

“Edward, this is my mother, Chris Mustang.” Roy introduced, removing his hand from Edward’s back to gesture towards said woman. “Madame, this is Edw-”

“Whoa, wait.” Edward interrupted. “Your mum owns a brothel?”

“I do.” Chris said in a her smoker’s rasp. “That a problem?”

“What? No.” Edward dismissed the idea with little more than a baffled squint in Chris’s direction. “It just explains a hell of a lot about this one.” He explained, jerking his thumb at Roy and starting to grin. “He grew up here, didn’t he?”

“Well, not here. New establishment. But yeah.” Chris replied, clearly sizing Edward up with more curiosity and respect than she had been before.

Edward laughed. Roy side-eyed him. “Do I want to know?” He asked.

“No, it’s just… when I used to watch you sucking up to the brass, I used to think you played them as well as any whore, but I never actually caught on that you were playing them like a whore would.” Edward explained, looking delighted.

Riza burst out laughing, one hand up and covering her mouth in a paltry attempt to disguise the mirth. Even though it was at his expense, Roy couldn’t help just staring at her, because it was such a rare and precious thing, her unrestrained laughter. At work, Riza was always professional, of course, but even in private, she was always just a little bit restrained. Roy appreciated that about her, the quietness of all her emotions, the peace and steadiness of her company, but it was still a wonder to watch Edward provoke her to genuine, startled, brilliant laughter like this.

When Roy managed to tear his eyes away and look up at his mother, Chris was already watching him, an all too knowing look in her eyes. She snorted at him, then jabbed a finger at Edward, looking Roy dead in the eye, and proclaimed; “You keep this one, kid.”

Which was the exact same thing she’d said about Riza, when Roy had introduced them. Back then, Roy had spluttered and back-pedalled and hedged, because Riza hadn’t been his, then, not really. But of course his mother had seen right through him then, just like she did now. Only, this time, Roy didn’t have to deny anything. That was a good feeling.

“I plan to.” Roy assured her. “For as long as he lets me.”

“Pfft.” Edward scoffed, going pink. “You’d need to get Riza to chase me off at gunpoint if you ever wanted me gone.” He stated, and Roy hid his besotted smile in the corner of his mouth. Everyone present would see it anyway, but he felt a little less unravelled by the force of his emotions for the attempt.

Riza huffed, a sound of fond exasperation. “I think I might be a little compromised in that regard, Edward.” She pointed out, shooting him a fond look. Edward went pink.

“Huh. So it’s like that, is it?” Chris asked, looking between the two of them with dawning understanding. Then it was Riza’s turn to look faintly embarrassed, while Edward just shrugged and nodded like it was no big deal.

Roy hadn’t thought it was possible to be this happy at any one moment. “It was Edward’s idea.” He explained to Chris, who nodded like that made sense.

“It was Riza’s idea.” Edward protested. “She ambushed me with it. In your office!”

“I’m happy to share the credit.” Riza offered magnanimously, looking smug, and Edward answered with one of his shit-eating grins, and Roy just basked in the moment.

Chris knocked him out of his love-addled daze when she made a sharp – but approving – sound in the back of her throat, straightening up and nodding once. “It’s about damned time. Watching you pine-” A pointed look at Roy. “-and dither-” A even more pointed look at Riza. “-was getting old.”

Riza’s mouth twisted with faint annoyance, and Roy agreed with her, although he just felt resigned to people ignoring him when he said; “I was not pining.”

At the same moment, Riza echoed him with a much less plaintive, more dignified; “I was not dithering. I had valid reasons not to rush headlong into anything.”

“It stopped being rushing over a decade ago, girl.” Chris countered sternly, and Riza glared back, irritated, but not quite up to arguing the point. “And call it whatever you want, Roy-Boy, but you can’t deny that your heart wouldn’t know the concept of ‘moving on’ if it came at you with a cudgel.”

She did have a point, Roy had to admit, but he still objected to the word ‘pining’. Maybe it was petty to quibble over the semantics of it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Pining implies that I was unhappy just because there was no physical aspect to our relationship. I wasn’t.” He stressed.

“Yeah, but you’re more happy now.” Edward pointed out, leaning into his side. Roy tipped his head in acknowledgement, letting his arm curl loosely around Edward’s waist. “All we have to do is get Hughes in on it, and we’ll be golden.” Edward added.

“If only.” Roy mused, wry and wistful.

Riza made a small sound of realisation and understanding, and Roy looked over to see her looking at him like she was seeing an entirely new facet of him and was taking the time to really study it. It made him feel just a touch self-conscious. “I hadn’t realised you’re in love with him.” She mused quietly. “But it makes a lot of sense.”

Roy shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. “I have tried to keep it to myself.”

“You’re very good at that.” Riza acknowledged.

“It’s not exactly hard.” Roy pointed out. It earned him a dubious look on both sides, which had him rolling his eyes and looking to his mother for help explaining. She just laughed at him and left him to flounder. “It’s not as if I need any more confirmation than I’ve already got that he cares for me.” He explained pointedly. “Anything else would be nice, of course, but it’s also rather superfluous.”

Edward had a faint smile on his face that suggested he understood, even though he still found the situation more sad than Roy honestly thought it warranted. Riza, on the other hand, looked a little startled, but even as Roy watched, the expression melted into aching fondness. Roy shook his head at them, tugged them both closer, and endured the evening of his mother’s teasing. It was worth it.

[storiesbeyondthestars]

@thousand-springs requested Used in ritual/sacrifice with Keith for @badthingshappenbingo

This is more of a modern AU, but is also just...something else.

Check it out on AO3

There was a nervousness that lingered over the town. One that had everyone jumping at the slightest provocations.

It was a small and simple community, the kind shown on Christmas cards in winter when the snow fell and there were light and decorations strewn everywhere. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else.

It was the kind of place that would normally be filled with festive Halloween decorations, but not that year. Sure, things were set up to keep the small children distracted from the events that were soon to come, but it wasn’t like every other year.

The town only got like this once every twenty years, where the dread became palpable.

“Shit.” Keith looked up towards Shiro, who put his finger in his mouth to stop the blood flow from where his hand slipped.

The young man narrowed his eyes at his brother and said, “Careful, or you’re going to end up losing a finger.”

Shiro wasn’t actually Keith’s brother. He had taken him in at a young age after Keith’s mother had vanished, and his father died in the fire that had destroyed his home as a young child. No one had quite known what to do with the young boy, bouncing him around from place to place without officially getting child protective services in on it.

No one welcomed outside things in their town.

That was until Keith had stolen Shiro’s car when he was 12 and Shiro was 19. For whatever reason, that prompted Shiro to take him into his home. Shiro’s then-boyfriend and now-husband had been a bit taken back, but Adam got used to it.

Keith owed Shiro everything, so he wasn’t going to let the man cut his own finger off.

“I’d lose my whole arm if this could be put off for another five years,” Shiro replied, trying not to let his bitterness show through.

The younger of the two regarded him carefully. Shiro worked as the local mechanic, so naturally, that was what Keith ended up doing. There weren’t really many options for people who wanted to stay there, and getting out was hard.

To an outsider, Shiro’s words didn’t make much sense, but Keith knew. Of course he did.

“It’ll be okay,” Keith assured him, forcing a smile onto his face.

“You can’t promise that, Keith,” he shot back, narrowing his grey eyes at him. “You know as much as I do that there’s a possibility they could chose you.”

Of course Keith knew. How could he not? Everyone his age was worried about what was to come.

Their town wasn’t exactly normal. There was a reason why they didn’t really embrace outsiders.

Their town had a demon.

Yes, seriously.

In the middle of the town square was a strangely decorated circle that could just be brushed aside as simple landscaping and décor. That wasn’t the case though. People had tried for years to break it open, to excavate around it to see if they could get at whatever was inside, but to no avail. They knew for a fact that there was some kind of cavern underneath the Circle, that there was a long, vertical drop down to that cavern, but when they looked for it, it was like it wasn’t there.

They all believed in magic. How could they not after things like that?

Once every twenty years, the stone circle slid open, unleashing terrifying snarls and stenches. Stories said that a monstrous demon lived within it, and that the town was originally erected around the lair to appease its appetite so that it wouldn’t escape and unleash chaos upon the world. In return for their sacrifice, they were given the most beautiful freshwater springs, and gardens that were always bountiful.

It struck Keith as a very pagan thing, but the demon was apparently very real. Everyone swore by it, whispering that the sounds it made were horrifying. That it brought a feeling of dread. On Halloween, a single townsperson would be sacrificed to the demon to appease it.

No one quite knew what happened to the person that was given to the demon. The Sacrifice was always revered and remembered by the townspeople, pictures of them labeled as heroes in city hall. The older people toted it as a brave and noble sacrifice.

They would though, they were safe. For whatever reason, the Sacrifices were always around the 18 to 22-year range. Some muttered that it would be easier to just not have children that would fall into that age-range during the time of sacrifice, but then the demon would escape and destroy everything.

Keith was a little bit of a skeptic, but that was because he wasn’t around the last time the Circle had opened. In fact, the last time it opened was the day that he was born, something that a few people noted.

That not only put him perfectly in the age group to be chosen as the Sacrifice, but the date of his birth drew more attention to him as well. There was no exact date when the Circle opened. Sometimes it was an entire month before Halloween, sometimes it was only a day or two. To be born on the day it opened was a hell of a coincidence.

So maybe Keith could understand why Shiro was nervous. His brother had been his guardian, his best friend for the past eight years. Now Keith was a candidate to be sacrificed to the demon, and had been born on the date the Circle had opened last time.

“It’ll be okay,” Keith assured him again. There was a small bit of relief that Shiro was well out of the age range for a sacrifice, though he was sure that Shiro would disagree. He’d try to take Keith’s place without question.

That thought unsettled Keith. That was why, the night before his 20th birthday, he went to Adam, Shiro’s husband.

One would think that a small town would be judgemental of same sex marriage, but most people were okay with it. It had been a small blessing that let Keith not completely hate his home. The outside world was a lot crueler, or so people said.

“Adam,” Keith said to him. “Can I ask you a favour?”

“Sure Keith.” Adam looked up from his book, staring at him quizzically. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s Shiro.” He bit his lip. “I’m worried he’s going to do something…stupid.” Stupid, as in completely reckless. Something like try to smuggle Keith out of the town until someone else was chosen. People had tried that before, and whoever was doing it would be severely punished, and Keith didn’t want that to happen to Shiro. It was pretty much impossible to leave anyway.

Adam frowned slightly and said, “I worry about that too. He’s just scared for you.”

“Just, promise me that whatever happens you’ll stop him?” Keith asked, staring at him with pleading eyes.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Adam nodded his head. “Of course I will. You never have to worry about that.”

That night, Keith had the strangest dream. He was in a brightly lit room, on a massive canopy bed with silks and shimmering fabrics that almost felt like cool liquids in his hands.

He looked up, meeting a pair of glowing blue eyes. A bit of instinctual fear clawed at him, something screaming with him that something was wrong, something was very wrong. Still, he couldn’t look away from those eyes, even as the rest of the world around them seemed to fade. He couldn’t even see the features of who or whatever it was, just the eyes.

Whatever it was leaned close to him, and he saw a glint of razor sharp teeth before everything went black.

When Keith awoke from his dream, he had a strange pebble in his hand. It was impossibly smooth, and was a sparkling blue. Objectively, it was beautiful, but for whatever reason, the sight of it made him want to throw up.

It was in the early morning hours on Keith’s 20th birthday, when the sky was still dark and almost everyone was asleep, that the Circle opened. People were chosen to stand guard over it every night until it opened, and to report back when it did.

Shiro was shaking and tense during the little party they had, where he bought a cake and gave him a present. It wasn’t much, they didn’t exactly have a lot of money to spare, but Keith appreciated the notebook and pencils so that he could draw. He was never one to add colour to his things, but he did love to sketch. He found it therapeutic for the anger that always simmered just under the surface of his skin.

That night, he overheard Adam and Shiro arguing. He hadn’t meant to, Keith had been trying to sneak out to see if there was any wildlife around that he could sketch, and they weren’t exactly being quiet. Normally, he would never need to sneak out, he could come and go as he pleased, but this was different. There were strict curfews during the Ritual.

“Shiro,” Adam spoke, trying to sound soothing, but also a bit annoyed. “Calm down. We don’t know—“

“I’ve gone through the records since we started keeping them!” Shiro stressed. “The Circle has never opened on the same day twice. Not like this. And Keith’s birthday? It’s not a coincidence.”

“It could be,” Adam pointed out.

“It’s not, and we both know it,” Shiro said, sounding so defeated. “If we could just take him and go…”

“They won’t allow that, you know that.”

“I can’t lose him, Adam. I can’t. He’s my brother. Almost like son to me.”

“I know, Shiro. I know.”

Keith hadn’t gone out to sketch that night, a heavy weight in his stomach at the way Shiro’s voice wavered.

That night, he saw the blue eyes and the glinting teeth again. He woke up with a strange silken bracelet around his wrist.

It was the day after Keith’s birthday when they announced that the selection would be the next day. They wanted to hurry and find the one that would be given the honour of being the Sacrifice. There was too much of a risk that parents and guardians would try to take any of the candidates away, and they weren’t a cruel people. They didn’t want everyone to worry so much.

“Keith,” Shiro said to him. “What do you think about hiking for a bit?”

He stared at his brother, knowing exactly what he was doing. The silk bracelet beneath the long sleeve of his jacket almost seemed to burn into his skin, the weight of the stone in his pocket keeping him in place.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Keith answered simply, trying to hide the waver of his voice.

“Some time in prison would be worth it,” he insisted.

Except, that wasn’t what Keith meant at all. A part of him knew. He just knew what was going to happen. He wasn’t worried about Shiro getting arrested. Not really.

He was worried about something worse happening to him.

“It’ll be okay, Shiro,” Keith answered him. “You’ll see.”

Oddly enough, he almost felt like it wasn’t him talking.

That night, the blue eyes were back, watching him as if gazing into his very soul. He still couldn’t see anything else, just the eyes that moved around his prone form. He couldn’t even move properly as it seemed to stalk around him, trying to see him from all angles. It shifted closer this time, causing Keith to shudder. It felt like skin, but it was so cold.

“No,” he managed to choke out as the eyes inched closer, looming over him. “Please.” He wanted to fight, but he couldn’t move.

“It’ll be okay.” Its voice sent a shiver down his spine. “You’ll see.”

Keith closed his eyes, and then cried out when a rush of sharp pain lanced across his shoulder and down his arm.

He awoke abruptly, sitting up quickly and panting. Sweat rolled down from his hairline, and his shoulder ached horribly.

Slowly, he got out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. Grimacing at the bright light, he looked at himself in the mirror, eyebrows quirking up when he noticed how red his skin was at the edge of the collar of his shirt. Keith pulled it aside a bit, and his stomach dropped. He tugged the shirt off, and stared in horror at his reflection.

There was a bite mark that looked almost human, but was bitter, and made with clearly sharp and pointed teeth.

He wheeled around, practically throwing himself at the toilet as he threw up.

Later that day, everyone who was 18 to 22 was gathered together. It wasn’t lost on Keith that everyone that was corralling them was armed. It made him really wish that he had taken Shiro up on his offer to ‘go hiking’, because he couldn’t shake off the dread.

Everyone around him seemed just as terrified, or was trying to be brave. He knew though that they had nothing to worry about.

Keith wondered if it was always like this. If the one that would be chosen knew beforehand. Just in case it was a fluke, and he was fine, he wore a thick hoodie so that no one would see the mark.

For some reason though, he kept that stupid bracelet around his wrist, and that stone in his pocket. He didn’t know why. He felt like he couldn’t get rid of it. That something very bad would happen if he did.

The selection was held in what looked an old, partially dilapidated house. Keith wasn’t quite sure why it was held there, but as far as he knew, it had always been like that. It was an easy place to keep them all inside so no one would run.

They were all ushered inside, the door closed behind them. They were all put into a circle, a man in black robes in the middle of the room. He was a tall, bald man with strange, flowing robes and odd markings across his face. He was said to be a holy man who had no real title and no alignment to any religion, but who apparently knew knew all about the demon, allowing it to use him to choose its sacrifice.

Keith couldn’t help but wonder if the demon was just fucking with all of them. It could probably just steal someone in their sleep, but he supposed that there was probably something significant about the ritual, something that appeased it or made it feel important.

“Welcome,” the man spoke up. “I am Macidus. All of you strong, brave men and women are fortunate enough to be candidates for the Sacrifice. I know it may appear frightening, but do not despair. If chosen, you will be saving the lives of everyone else. Of potentially the world. It is an honour, and you will forever be remembered for it.”

The girl beside Keith sniffled, tears falling down her pale cheeks. A part of him wanted to comfort her, but he said nothing, trying to keep a straight face.

Macidus started chanting something for the center of the Circle that they created. Honestly, he looked a little ridiculous at first. Then the air around them started to cool until it became downright unbearably chilly.

The man was facing away from Keith, and he didn’t see any movement, but a couple of the people he was facing gasped in shock. Macidus moved from person to person, placing his hands on this shoulders and staring at them. It was only when he got closer to Keith that he realized what was freaking everyone else out so much.

Macidus’ normal dark brown eyes were a bright, almost glowing blue. Keith almost left like he was going to throw up as the man got closer and closer to him.

Finally, he put his hands on Keith’s shoulders, and he was unable to hide his grimace as the man put pressure on the bite mark. Those eyes, in such a sickening familiar shade of blue, stared at him intensely.

Keith’s fingers curled into fists as the holy man stayed staring at him longer than the others. He could see looks of terror and relief starting to appear on the faces of the others. They all knew what was happening.

“This one.” His voice made Keith shudder. It wasn’t Macidus’ voice, it sounded like the one he heard whispering into his hear in his nightmares. Almost immediately, two tall men appeared, grabbing Keith’s arms and tugging him away from the others.

No one else looked at Keith, keeping their eyes averted as they were put into two lines to leave, Keith being at the back and help by the two men so that he wouldn’t run.

Then they started moving, and Keith felt like he was going to be sick as they paraded around, Macidus proudly pronouncing the choice of the Sacrifice.

Keith heard Shiro yell his arm, heard him yelling to others. He didn’t dare look over at him. He couldn’t. If he did, he would probably break down, and he was trying to keep a straight face in front of everyone. He didn’t want to see their pity. He didn’t want to see their relief that their own children were safe.

He mentally prayed that Adam kept Shiro safe.

Keith knew the stories. They had been whispered over and over again. It was theorized that the person is consumed by the demon, because gender never seems to matter, nor do they demand someone who is pure. There was no rhyme or reason to its choices beyond the specific age range. It must be food then.

There was something incredibly odd about knowing that you were going to die in a couple days.

They kept him away from everyone else. They kept him locked in a beautiful room with no windows and now sharp objects. Keith could probably figure out a way to off himself if he really wanted to.

He kept thinking of Shiro though. If he didn’t let this happen, would whatever it is lash out and hurt Shiro or Adam? His life wasn’t worth the life of every other person in that town.

Blue yes haunted his dreams every night, but they weren’t as close or aggressive as before. They were waiting farther way, content to simply watch him.

“What are you doing to do to me?” Keith managed to ask during one dream. He almost wished that he only had to wait a day for this, not nearly a week. He didn’t know where his fight instincts went, but he always felt so tired.

The demon said nothing, and he woke up.

This happened again and again, night after night. His days were nothing more than waiting.

On the night of the 30th, Macidus himself came into the room. “Tomorrow, we will do the cleansing before the ritual. You will be given a bag with items to take with you to the next life. Is there anything you request?”

“Do I get to see my brother first?” Keith asked, feeling almost drained from being stuck in a room with nothing to do for nearly a week. He had been given things to read that were all these strange prayers, but that was about it.

“To get you used to a world without all these distractions.”

Right, cause he was going to get used to living without the internet when he was dead. Maybe they just felt better leading someone who was going a little crazy to his or her death.

“You may,” Macidus agreed.

Shiro and Adam were both brought to him later. Shiro wrapped him in a tight hug, burying his face into his hair, shaking as he held him.

“You’ll be okay,” Keith got out as he returned the hug, burying his face into the crook of Shiro’s neck. “Don’t…do anything stupid. Okay? Keep your business, or take Adam and move away. Adopt a kid or whatever. You’ll be a good parent, trust me on that.” Keith blinked his eyes rapidly, not wanting to cry.

Shiro breathed heavily. “We should have ran.”

“It’s not your fault.” Keith looked up as Adam put his hand on his head, the man smiling sadly at him, eyes misty.

“Promise me you’ll take care of each other? Don’t do anything stupid?” Slowly, Shiro nodded his head.

“We will,” Adam agreed.

“You’re my brother, Shiro,” Keith muttered to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Keith.” Shiro squeezed him tightly. “If I could bust you out of here right onw, I would.”

“I know you would.”

He wished that they would, because he felt oddly docile, and realized that his captors might have been doing something to him, with magic or mild drugs, he didn’t know.

It wasn’t meant to happen though. Shiro and Adam were soon escorted out of the room.

“Your brother left you some things to take with you,” Macidus said to him. “We will place them with your bag.”

The blue eyes were in his dreams again that night, except them actually seemed to be in a body. He couldn’t see what they looked like, but they seemed almost humanoid, though completely hidden by shadows, eyes aside.

“Don’t be afraid,” a voice whispered to him. “Everything will be okay soon. You’ll see.”

He wasn’t sure he trusted the thing that was going to be killing and consuming him in the next 24 hours.

Morning came much quicker than he would have liked. It was strange how it didn’t feel any different. It just like any other day. He supposed that it was true to most people in the world. There was nothing special about that day, and time would tick on without him.

Hopefully, thanks to his sacrifice, the people that he grew up with would be safe for 20 more years.

He was allowed a big, hearty breakfast of whatever he wanted. They they went through the satchel he would be allowed. His notebook, pencils, pictures of his family, the knife that his mother had left a long time ago, and a few other things were in there. The silken bracelet was still around his wrist, the stone placed carefully into the bag. Things that were sentimental or important.

It was nice to know that those things were with him.

Then he went through what they called ‘the cleansing’, where every nook and cranny of him was cleaned. He supposed that they didn’t want to give the demon a dirty meal. He hoped he gave it indigestion for the next 20 years.

Keith mused on his food, given his last choice for a final meal. Of course he chose food from the diner downtown. He had always loved that place more than any other place.

It was only when he was put into pure white clothing that the nausea started to well up within him. They were plain but oddly comfortable, just a simple pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He looked so worn and washed out in the mirror.

The children went trick-or-treating earlier than night, and once the sky was dark and they were safely inside, Keith was brought out of his luxurious prison and paraded through the town, towards the Circle.

Of course, it wasn’t just the Circle anymore. There was a pulley-system set up beside it, a wooden platform with cuffs on it. Of course they weren’t just going to throw him in. It wasn’t nearly theatrical enough.

Fear and anger rose up within Keith as he tried to back away, but he was pushed forward. Everyone was wearing masks, as if that absolved them from what was happening. Anyone could have stopped it, but no one made any move to try.

The fight finally came back to Keith. He struggled with his captor as they pushed him forward, binding his wrists and ankles to the board. His stomach lurched as it was lifted into the air, hovering over the pitch black pit below. A growl echoed from it, and Keith looked away at the crowd.

God, he hoped Shiro was there somewhere.

Macidus started talking, about noble sacrifices, honour, saving them all, and things like that. Keith didn’t give two shits about what he was saying. He wanted to go home.

He blinked his eyes rapidly to hide the fact that they were watering, giving the man that chose him a vicious glare when he asked if there was anything he’d like to say.

“I hope you rot in hell,” Keith snarled at the man, unable to hide his anger. There was some shuffling and gasps, and he looked up in time to see Shiro trying to make his way forward through the crowd.

It was too late though. The platform was quickly lowered down into the darkness. It seemed to go on forever, and it was like all the sound from above was first muffled, and then completely gone.

He couldn’t help but be bitter towards the people who would go on with their lives the next day like nothing happened. No one outside of their own would ever know. He’d just become another name in the town’s best kept secret.

The farther he was lowered, the more tired he became, eventually closing his eyes

Then he heard something, a shifting in the darkness that had his head jerking up, eyes snapping open. He inhaled sharply when vibrant blue eyes glowed from the darkness.

“Don’t worry,” a voice said, one that was neither creepily deep or eerily high. What felt like a hand was pressed against his cheek, stroking it almost soothingly. “You’re here with me now. I’ve been waiting for you.” Something broke the shackles binding him to the platform and he fell forward, feeling something hold him up under his legs and back. It felt almost human. “Is that what you want? To punish those people? You kept your gifts I gave you. I can give you another if you want it. I can give you everything.”

He thought of Shiro, of those innocent children and people. No, he didn’t want them hurt. The other ones though…

The platform quickly rose back up and out of the Circle above them. Though Keith still couldn’t see anything properly, he was still able to see those glowing blue eyes and sharp teeth that glinted off of the limited light as lips stretched into the grin.

The cavern sealed itself again, and everything went black.

[misssophiachase]

25 Days of Klaroline + Work

Who is fired up about our endgame? I had to write this mini drabble because I sure as hell can’t sleep! Pic not mine obviously but isn’t our endgame pretty?

Klaus and Caroline are rival bar owners in the French Quarter but when Mardi Gras begins things are brought to a whole new level. 

Work it

Monday, 12 February, 2018 - Bar Tonique

“He did not,” she growls from her hiding place by the window, her eyes travelling over the street to Napoleon House. It isn’t terrible to look at inside or out, not that she will ever admit that to the arrogant owner of course.   

The bar was 200 years old, previously owned by a former Mayor. Its always been popular with locals due to its historical significance and simple but stylish design but it wasn’t until Klaus Mikaelson bought it a year ago that Napoleon really took off. 

The decor is traditional but striking and its antique walls littered with moving, sepia photographs of local places and people. Many taken by its new owner. 

“He did,” Katherine confirms as she approaches. Caroline swats her away in frustration. 

“How convenient that the day after I advertise drink specials in the window he suddenly announces cheaper deals?”

“It is Mardi Gras tomorrow, care,” Katherine reasons. “Everyone is doing the same thing.”

“Same thing my ass,” she mutters. “His deal is exactly the same. Someone needs to get their own ideas and stop stealing mine.”

Caroline is ruthlessly competitive, everyone in her life, past and present, can attest to that very fact. 

After visiting New Orleans for Mardi Gras five years earlier, she fell in love. Selling everything she had in Boston and making her way down south. Her friends told her she was crazy and maybe she was but the beignets tasted too damn good to resist.  

Caroline owns Bar Tonique, a chic bar in the French Quarter famous for its extensive Gin selection and creative cocktails. It’s always busy but since he’s invaded her territory, Caroline has noticed a lull. Her staff, including best friend Katherine who surprisingly followed her south, say she’s overreacting and things are still busy. Caroline begs to differ and suddenly Klaus Mikaelson is her number one enemy. 

He’s extremely attractive, yes, with the dimples, the crimson lips and that accent but Caroline knows he is nothing but a shark trying to steal her precious business. He will pay, one way or another. 

Napoleon House

Klaus is pleased to see Caroline stressing. Given it is only 11am, he’s impressed he has ruffled her feathers so early in the day. He’s not a horrible person, he just likes winning and if it effects the blonde across the street, his closest competitor, then why not enjoy the show?

He’d come to New Orleans looking for something eighteen months ago. He was lost and desperate for something to save him from his tumultuous life.  Klaus wasn’t quite sure what that was until he saw her barrelling alone Rue de Chartres. She’d rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner and shoved him slightly. Klaus should have been pissed but it made him just want to know her. Finding out she was a rival bar owner explained that look and shove and made him even more curious.  

She’s absolutely beautiful, she’s also incredibly smart and driven and can rival even the most competitive athlete. He’s intrigued, he’s smitten and Klaus knows that annoying her will soon bring her to his door. He’s counting on it. He just doesn’t think it will happen so fast.

Napoleon House - Tuesday February 13

“You dishonest and shady, ass,” she accuses, making her way upstairs, stomping up each one in frustration. Caroline isn’t one to abuse people but after he’s taken another idea of hers she needs to make her anger known.

It’s first day of Mardi Gras and the streets are packed in all of their green, gold and purple glory. Beads are scattered throughout and the sound of jazz is contagious. If only Caroline can actually enjoy it without her business stealing neighbour.     

“Well, hello to you too,” he quips, those lips curving into a knowing smile and his eyes flickering longingly over her body. Caroline doesn’t dress up much, she just happens to be in the most fitted, black dress by absolute chance. “I was wondering when you would darken my doorstep.”

“Only through sheer sufferance,” she growls, making her way into his office, probably against her better judgement. “Stop stealing my ideas, Mikaelson.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies. 

“Just so you know, that pathetic act isn’t working,” she drawls. “In fact, honesty is actually appreciated.” He pauses, licking his lips briefly before gazing into her eyes. Dark blue focused on light. 

“Well, then please enlighten me.”

“You are messing with me but I’m not sure why?” He pauses again, his gaze briefly downcast before replying. 

“I fancy you…”

“Huh?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes,” she shoots back. “You must have some really messed up family issues to think this is the normal way to act, you know, just saying.”

“You have no idea,” he scoffs. Caroline stills, unable to move, the admission flooring her completely. “The Mikaelsons are an interesting bunch, to say the least. But yet you’re still here and I’m wondering why exactly if I am so messed up?”

“I’m processing,” she murmurs nervously, taking a much needed seat shakily. He’s by her side in a flash, his spicy cologne messing with her already fuzzy brain. 

“Am I really that bad?” He’s within kissing distance now, his lips teasing her mercilessly. Maybe it’s the craziness of Mardi Gras or the fact he’s so handsome and smells so good in this proximity but Caroline is crazily considering crossing that line.

“Yes,” she replies, rather unconvincingly. 

“So, what’s my worst trait then? We can count back from absolute worst to least bearable.”

“Well, other than your unscrupulous business practices…” she mumbles, unable to hide her attraction to this idiot. 

“I can be difficult, I suppose,” he concedes. 

“And you’re arrogant, smug, dishonest..”

“I may be arrogant and smug,” he admits. “But dishonest, I’m not.”

“So, what didn’t you lie about exactly?” 

“The way I feel about you,” Caroline is melting and is struggling to respond. She’s in free fall, trying to work out how to extricate herself from this situation without showing emotion or capitulating to her feelings.

His lips are on hers before she can reply to the myriad of emotions she is feeling. They are warm, smooth and as his tongue massages hers she begins to lose herself in his kisses. Before she can fully immerse herself though, she spies photographs on his office wall. It’s not unusual, and his sepia theme is well known but she stills, pulling back to inspect the scenes more closely. Her back is to the camera in one, her blonde waves fanned out. In another, she is smiling wickedly into the distance and another, she is talking to one of the local kids. 

Caroline is confused. She doesn’t know how to act or react. She rushes out of there in a flash. Too scared too look back at his expression as she does. 

Bar Tonique - 15 February 2018

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is low, her gaze downcast as he enters. Klaus has been stewing for days, wondering how to approach her after their last altercation. She is at the forefront of his mind which is why he’s here, possibly against his better judgement. 

“Is this how you welcome all your patrons? Because if so I might need to teach you some…”

“The day you teach me anything about hospitality, I will torch my and your establishment simultaneously.”

“You will fit in perfectly at Christmas Dinner,” he chuckles knowingly. “The Mikaelsons wear death wishes and carnage like a badge of honour.”

“As much as I love hearing about your family, you never answered my initial question.”      

 “I’ve missed you.”

“That’s not an appropriate answer,” she baulked, her body language telling Klaus that she wasn’t dealing with their unexpected connection.

“Fine,” he conceded. “I think I love you.”

“That’s also not…” she attempts to respond but her vocal chords betray her. Klaus can tell she is struggling. It’s why he moves around to her desk, his finger lifting her chin up so her eyes will meet his.  

“I know that I love you.” She is silent, surprisingly, a stray tear making its way down her creamy cheek. He moves fast and wipes it away with the brush of his thumb.

“But those photos…”

“I capture what inspires me,” he sighs, his thumb catching the last tear before it can fall. “And you inspire me, love.”

“Why?” 

“I didn’t know it at the time but you are the reason I’m here. I was lost but now I’m found.” 

“If that’s a line…” 

“Fancy an excursion?” He pleaded, gesturing downstairs. 

“And what exactly are we going to do?”

“I thought it might be nice to look at some of the local artwork given we will no doubt have differing opinions on snowflakes and the like, then eat some beignets…”

“Who told you?”

“It may surprise you but I know you better than you think,” he chuckles. 

“Fine,” she concedes, albeit reluctantly. “But I’m going to need many.”

“Whatever you want,” he grins. “You know however long it takes and all that.” 

She rolls her eyes but little did they know then those beignets would be the catalyst for the beginnings of their relationship. In fact they are a regular feature in anniversary celebrations forthwith because Klaus knows if his Queen is without her favourite treats, there is hell to pay.

 On FF HERE

[sleepykittypaws]

Dear Christmas

Original Airdate: November 27, 2020 (Lifetime) Where to Watch?: Lifetime will re-air it in this, and future seasons; It’s also available to purchase on iTunes or to watch, with ads, for a limited time, on mylifetime.com (cable login, required)

Melissa Joan Hart has been in some of my all-time favorite, made-for-TV Christmas movies, namely Holiday in Handcuffs, and is, of a late, a relatively reliable Lifetime holiday staple. This year Hart directed a movie (the sadly dreadful Feliz NaviDad), starred in a movie (this one), and produced both of those, as well as Once Upon a Main Street, for the channel.

Dear Christmas was directed by Emily Moss Wilson, who has helmed some of my favorite holiday movies of recent years, including two in my 2019 top-five, A Christmas Wish and Christmas in Louisiana. 

This one pairs Hart, playing a successful podcast host, with Jason Priestley, a jack-of-all trades in her hometown. Yes, it's Sabrina the Teenage Witch falls in love with Brandon Walsh, and I was here for it. 

Kudos to Hart, more than half a decade Priestley's junior (44 vs 51), for being willing to play someone who was in his same 8th grade band class. Ed Begley Jr. and Faith Prince charmingly play Hart's parents, Nicky Whelan her sister, with the world's fakest baby bump, and Robin Givens, in a very small role, is Hart's boss. An admirably recognizable cast for a made-for-TV holiday movie in any moment, let alone during a global pandemic. 

But, seriously, when my husband saw this baby bump, he was like, ‘Oh, so she’s expecting a basketball.’

We even get a Zoom cameo from Hilarie Burton and Antwon Tanner, showing us what we're missing (thanks, COVID!) by not getting a Lifetime movie starring the two of them this holiday season. Fingers crossed for next year and I would totally watch a movie about Burton and Tanner meeting at a Christmas party and then he loses her number so she thinks he’s not interested. 

Dear Christmas starts with Hart, who we're told is an author and has the “No. 1 podcast in the country,” driving from "Chicago" to Lake Tahoe, where this movie was actually filmed. That's a 30-hour cross country trip, without traffic—despite Hart saying she'd only been driving "12 hours." (Did no one on set Google this? Just me then?)

This is mostly to set up her initial meeting with Priestley, as Mr. Christmas, who rescues Hart after she blows a tire. Mr. Christmas is "Chris Massey" (get it?), and I appreciate that they do at least try and explain how someone could name their child that without immediately seeing the pun.

She next runs into Mr. Christmas outside her bedroom window while wearing holiday pajamas in a genuinely funny moment that works because Hart and Priestley are, if nothing else, pros.

Then Mr. Christmas is singing—well, someone is, not sure it's Priestley—in a closed cafe (cause: COVID means no extras) that Hart enters and then parks herself in. A little weird, but I admire that they both were willing to skip straight past work and into day drinking procrastination. Don't see that on Hallmark! 

The story also came up with a clever way to have a Christmas party without, you know, actual party guests in this time of COVID, not once, but twice in this movie, and they also almost organically worked in the Tori Kelley song “25th” they were clearly contractually obligated to promote. (Helps it's a decent song.)

Along with being "pretty sure" she'll see Chris every day, Hart also keeps seeing these glass hearts all over town, "to thank healthcare workers." Now, if COVID doesn't exist in this world, which it doesn't appear to, not sure what they're thanking healthcare workers for exactly, but I appreciate the nod. 

And if you guessed Mr. Christmas was the one producing these hearts, you too have seen more than one made-for-TV Christmas movie. Will admit though that I did not predict glass blower as the career du jour for Lifetime male leads this holiday season. (See also: The Christmas Edition)

Must admit Priestley's laconic "pretty sure," every time they parted and he said he'd see her again tomorrow, which I knew Hart would eventually echo, 100% worked for me. Couldn't tell you if that was simple Christmas movie cuteness or lingering Beverley Hills 90210 affection from my youth, but liked it a lot.

Stuff like that and Priestley saying with sincerity that you're never too old for Santa Claus—Do we see them kiss while he's wearing a Santa suit? We do!—helped make up for things like the world's worst fake baby. I mean, they didn't even get one of those floppy baby dolls, but a stiff plastic one. A bag of flour wrapped in a blanket might have been more realistic, but I guess a very fake baby is the only kind you get from a very fake pregnancy, so maybe I should give more credit for consistency there.

Other notes…Laughed when Hart tells Givens she's giving free, slightly used cologne to her brother-in-law. This tracks with the fact that the actor who plays said brother-in-law gets only a single line and is mostly portrayed either absent or sleeping. A fact that’s even joked about in the movie.

Hart does her "live podcast," which "goes viral" from her dad's office, which features a shelf of gift-wrapped books. These are lot more creative than the dreaded cabinet bows, but still feels like decor no one would actually take the time to do and does make, you know, reading your books rather difficult. But, hey, at least this looks cool.

Hart's real-life stepdad, Leslie Gilliams, who is part of their production company, has a cameo as Givens’ totally silent love interest. 

Hart's whole, "I'm fine," sad holiday activity montage after she and Chris (briefly) break up is very cute, well done, and a little different. The whole movie has just a teeny, tiny bit more sass than the usual paint-by-numbers formula of these movies, and I was here for it.

Oh and, we see Priestley with a ring box, but thankfully this couple that have been seeing other less than a week and have yet to kiss, do not get engaged. Because that's stupid, and I hate when that happens.

In terms of Christmas movies, Dear Christmas isn't anything extraordinary and it breaks no new ground, but it is a quintessential example of a made-for-TV Christmas romance, done well, and I enjoyed it. It gave me all the cozy Christmas and '90s nostalgia feels I was looking for going in.

Final Judgement: 3 Paws Up

[swanderful1]

A Cold Awakening: Chapter 5/?

Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Note: ~5500 words, read more on AO3

Later that morning, Emma found herself at the Jones’ crumbling estate flanked by her team. It could have only been easily assumed that the letter they received this morning meant to go here. “Lies in the place this very mess started” the last few words of the riddle imprinted in her brain. There was little argument from everyone as to whether or not the note had meant the mansion. However, Emma had a feeling the location was the easy part. Scouring the ruins of a 7000 square foot palace… maybe would be a bit less obvious. Nevertheless it was a good start, it was some sort of lead and it got her out of the office. Perhaps a different perspective was what she needed to break through the roadblock in her brain. Emma hated not making progress.

“Emma, Robin and I can take the basement first. Neal, David, and Ruby try the main level. The remainder of my team will take the bedrooms on the second floor.” Graham lightly gave directions. He had brought five agents with him today to help with the searching. The more people the better. They had a lot of ground to cover. Overall, Graham seemed to be trepidacious about stepping on anyone’s toes, though David had all but told him everyone was to listen to when the detective gave orders. “Sounds good. If anyone finds anything just radio in,” David waved the little black radio in the air with his latex glove covered fingers. He was far more optimistic than Emma.

She looked to Graham and gave him a slight smile, she tried to be supportive of him. He had made a conscious effort to have her back ever since he had arrived. Sitting next to her while she questioned people, going for coffee runs with her when it would be a late night at the office for everyone, he had even brought in several giant bulletin boards for her to map out her visuals of the case.

“We have a massive board at my office in Boston. It helps lay everything out. I’m a visual person myself.” He had said to her the morning he brought the boards in. They were simple but effective. She made use of them rather quickly and the rest of the office had taken to utilizing them as well.

“What do you suspect it is we’re looking for?” Graham asked her as they made their way inside the house. He wasn’t in his usual suit today, he had worn casual jeans, a gray leather jacket and boots. She remembered the first time they met. Here. At this house, and how she immediately noticed how professionally he was dressed. He was different now. It wasn’t a bad thing.

“I wish I knew,” she regarded crossing the threshold to the foyer. A grand and lofty space, ruined by time and secrets.

Emma, Graham and Robin took the basement quickly. It was likely that they could find what they were looking for in the basement as the letter had mentioned a hidden space. Lots of basements hid secrets people didn’t want to get out. Did Emma think this most recent clue would reveal the identity of the murderer? No. She could only imagine it was one of many pieces of the puzzle that would be coming together.

They scoured the basement while the rest of the team took over the main floor and second floor. It was a tiring task. The house itself was massive and the basement spanned the entire floorplan. It was half finished, it appeared as though the basement was under construction during the time of the murder and then never completed. The finished portion was significantly less creepy than the dark crevices of the unfinished half. Despite overhead lighting the room still felt dim and dark. Most of the construction equipment had been left behind and laid in this half. Emma and Robin stepped carefully over plywood stacks to get to the rows of shelves lining the far wall.

“This could take hours.” He remarked, taking a box to sift through. “What is it do you think we should exactly be on the lookout for?”

“I can’t say that I have any idea. Something not obvious. Perhaps something that could have been missed years ago during the first investigation.” She said in an uncertain voice as she also grabbed a box to begin looking through, wishing she had a better answer.

The two worked through box after box and scoured the walls for any kind of evidence. Of course this had all been done years ago but there was always a chance something subtle went unseen. Especially in a home this large.

“Any luck you two?” Graham shouted from the other end of the room, he had taken to sorting through some old filing cabinets. Emma wondered if there would be anything in there worth noting. Would she know when she found it?

“None. All just a bunch of old christmas decorations and school projects.” Robin yelled back. His hair fell over his forehead and he let out a heavy breath. Hours had gone by and they were growing tired.

“Maybe we should call it a day. It’s after 8 in the evening now.” Graham walked over to where the two were sorting. “We can come back on Monday. With a fresh take.”

Emma didn’t really want to stop searching but she knew the rest of her team did, and she didn’t want people missing anything important if they were too used to seeing the Jones’ possessions, making judgement calls on what was meaningful and what wasn’t.

“Sounds good. Let’s round up the others.” Emma responded, finally standing from where she sat on the concrete floor. Her knees cracked a bit as she rose up but she lent a hand to help out Robin who was struggling himself. He smiled, thankful.

“Any luck you three?” Ruby asked as soon as the whole group had reconnected in front of the house. It was dark outside, something Emma hadn’t even noticed being in the basement all day.

“None.” Emma shrugged. She was disappointed. But there was no way this would be easy. She knew that she just hoped her team knew that as well. She couldn’t afford to lose a single one of them.

“How about we all go for a drink or something?” the brunette suggested. Judging by the response of the rest of the people gathered in the driveway they were all on board. She however was not.

“You guys go, I think I’m just going home to Henry. He’s been alone almost every night this week.”

An exaggerated ‘awww’ went through the group. As they teased her about not coming to The Rabbit Hole with them.

“Okay. Well if you change your mind, meet us later?” Ruby twisted to nudge her friend on the shoulder, a quiet gesture of support no one else seemed to notice.

Everyone piled into their respective cars, tired from the long day and headed off. The only two remaining were Emma and Graham, who had offered to drive her back to the station to pick up her car she had left there this morning.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” Emma said as she was about to get out of his car once they pulled up next to her yellow bug.

“Emma, wait…” he touched her arm lightly, the first of any physical contact between them. “Would you like to grab coffee with me tomorrow? In the morning perhaps?”

Her face started to fall a little, looking at the very handsome detective and knowing she couldn’t possibly accept his offer. It hurt her a little. He was awfully charming, and did she mention handsome? He had been nothing short of lovely to her but it just was not in her instinct to go. To try it.

“I’m sorry. I have plans with my mom tomorrow.” Which was not a lie. But his face had started to fall a bit. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, okay. Another time would be good.” The smile returned to his face at the thought of the chance at another time. Though he and Emma both knew it was probably unlikely. Still, she grabbed his hand right before he released from her arm, and gave it a light squeeze hoping he understood. Then she got out of his car and climbed into her own, allowing herself to be alone with her thoughts for a while before she inevitably drove home to Henry.

After a disappointing day of searching Emma spent her Friday night at home watching movies with Henry. She had declined her invitation to meet the rest of the investigation team at the bar for a few drinks. All she wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and spend time with her son.

Their very intense Star Wars marathon had ended around 1 am with Emma waking on the couch to realize they had both fallen asleep. Henry looked so peaceful tucked into one of the big arm chairs in their movie room. It was once a dining room but Emma had chosen to fill the space with oversized couches and chairs, complete with a massive tv. It was easily the room she and her son spent the most time in. Who needs a formal dining room anyway?

She tried to leave the room without waking him but as she shut off the tv Henry stirred.

“W-what time is it?” he asked groggily, his eyes not even entirely open yet.

“It’s late, just go back to sleep.”

“No, I want to sleep in my bed.” He grumbled before he stood and tripped a bit over his own foot. Emma smiled and reached out her hand to stabilize him. Then she slowly led the way to the stairs making sure he wouldn’t fall again.

By the time they reached the upstairs hallway Henry was mostly lucid.

“Mom?” he turned before entering his bedroom.

“What’s up?”

“You’ll figure it out.” He smiled, doing his best to ease her ever-racing mind. Emma wasn’t generally a feelings person but Henry was an absolute exception. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Emma softened and looked down at her feet almost embarrassed that her mood lately had made such an impression on Henry. “Thanks, kid. Get some rest. Love you.”

“Love you.” With that he shut his door, leaving Emma standing in the hall feeling a hell of a lot better than she had felt the past two weeks.

The next morning Emma found herself in the local bookstore scanning for something to occupy her mind. Her mother had called her two days ago insisting she take the morning to spend some time with her. Emma saw right through it and realized her father had most likely told her mother how strung out she had been. But Emma agreed to go anyway, figuring book shopping and a quiet lunch were not the most awful ways to spend a Saturday.

“I’m going to get some coffee, do you want any?” Mary Margaret asked Emma as she scanned the latest in the biography section.

“I would love some.” Emma replied. She never turned down coffee.

“Extra cinnamon?”

“Sure.” It felt effortless spending time with her mother. They had a good relationship and since Emma did not keep many friends of her own, she found that as she got older she appreciated Mary Margaret as both a mom and a friend.

Not seeing anything she liked, Emma made her way over to the fiction section, hoping to find a book that would carry her away (at least for a little while). Her dreams were short lived when she rounded the corner of a shelf to find the last person she needed to see. Killian Jones.

He was by himself idly flipping through the pages of East of Eden. He wore jeans again, similar to the ones from that first night in The Rabbit Hole. Had she not known who he was she probably would have thought he was handsome. Probably. She could get away before he saw her. Avoid another unpleasant interaction until the next time she had to sit down with him. But instead he turned his head, noticing there was someone at the end of the shelves blatantly staring at him. Very smooth, Emma, she thought to herself.

“Miss Nolan.” He nodded in her direction. “Can’t get away from each other, can we?” His attempt at a joke hung in the air.

“What are you doing here?” were the words she chose to have come out of her mouth next. Instead of, well, anything polite or decent.

“American television being bloody awful, I need something else to entertain me.” A moment of silence from him, then “and you?”

“I’m out with my mother. Taking a bit of a break from things.” She should apologize, or at least explain herself for their last encounter. But he beat her to it.

“I wanted to apologize for the last time we were in the same room.” He started, reaching his hand up to scratch behind his ear, something of a nervous tick he had that Emma noticed. “Being back here… under the circumstances is not pleasant for me. But that isn’t an excuse.”

She was shocked. The past few times she had seen him he was all confidence, the I’m too good for any of this nonsense persona he played so well. Standing here, now, in this little book shop, some place neutral between the two of them, he seemed to have subdued. Even humbled.

“I think I owe you an apology as well.” Now was her turn, Emma swallowed her pride just as he had done. “This can’t be easy for you, in order for anything to be accomplished we have to be able to be in a room together.”

“Without biting each other’s heads off… or drunkenly approaching them in a bar.” He finished her thought. His eyes expressive and seemingly sorry for their first time interacting with each other as well. Emma read him. He was being genuine.

“We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of at that bar.” Emma joked. A human moment now occurring between them. He smiled at her but this time it wasn’t forced.

“Fair enough. But I pride myself on being a gentleman, and that move was not.” He responded, a bit warmer toward her now. By no means were they best friends but there was a level of understanding that had been established. An olive branch. They understood each other

“If you wouldn’t mind coming in again Monday morning. I have some things I need to talk to you about…” she did not know what his answer would be, given the last time he was at the station, “another note was delivered.”

“I can be there.” He tensed a little at the mention of a note, imagining its morbid context she assumed, but offered her a hint of a smile.

“Em I got your coffee they were out of cinnamon so it’s just reg-” her mother stopped beside her taking in the man not ten steps from them.

“Mom, you remember Killian Jones?” Emma started to introduce them, not sure if that was the correct move.

“Pleasure.” He reached for her mother’s hand and shook it before Emma could finish worrying, and he appeared as the perfect gentleman. “Forgive me my departure but I must be going, I have a conference call soon and I need to get some coffee of my own.”

He was fleeing, before Mary Margaret could bust out any of the usual pleasantries that came with seeing him. The ‘oh I’m so sorry’ speech he probably got all the time now that he had returned. Emma used to do the same thing when she was pregnant. She would run into someone she knew and then bolt before they could make any of the usual bull shit comments to her. ‘Will you be staying in school?’ or ‘What are you planning to do for work?’

“I’ll see you, Monday?” he asked before rushing off, meeting Emma’s eyes and quirking his dark eyebrow in such a way that she felt something in her stomach, what she was not entirely sure. But it wasn’t unpleasant.

“See you Monday.” She replied maintaining composure as she realized how well that went compared to her last meeting with him. At least they had cleared some of the air. Maybe now she could do her job and produce some actual results.

“Well he grew up nicely,” her mother’s voice broke the silence.

“Mom!” Emma nudged Mary Margaret, hoping Killian was far enough away he hadn’t heard that.

Later, after Emma had sufficiently maxed out her monthly book budget, she and her mother sat down at Granny’s diner for lunch. The old restaurant filled with people from the town having a leisurely Saturday lunch. Emma looked around wondering if one of the people in this room could have been behind the notes, or even worse the person who had been involved in the Jones murder in the first place. Were they the same person? Guilty of the crime and playing a sick, twisted game they knew they could win? Her father had told her not to rule anyone out. So that was exactly what she was trying to do.

She had made an attempt to casually bring up how Graham asked her to meet him for coffee because she wanted her mother’s opinion on the idea. However the question launched into a whole new conversation.

“Did you ever think maybe it’s time to start dating again?” Mary Margaret took the latest conversational development as a smooth transition into deeper territory.

“I go on dates.” Emma tried to defend herself, not doing a great job.

“Emma…” her mother eyed her from across the table. “Is that what you call those?”

“I have dated plenty of people. You know me though, no one’s ever good enough to bring home to meet Henry.” It was true. Being a mother, it was hard not think that way. It was hard not to picture every single guy she had dinner with meeting Henry (and immediately feeling anxious at the thought). Her last real, long term boyfriend had been Neal. They had stayed together throughout all of Emma’s pregnancy, despite being 16 years old at the time. But realized shortly after he was born that they were better as friends. It broke her to lose him in that way after sharing such a monumental experience, but it was for the best interest of Henry. She wanted nothing more than for Henry to be able to have his parents get along and be in the same room. The men after Neal had all been replaceable, disposable. But Emma liked it that way, it was what worked for her. It was was kept her from being hurt again.

“Emma. You and Neal have done an amazing job raising Henry.” She reached across the table for her daughter’s hand. “Truly. I have never seen two people co-parent so well. But he’s thirteen now. And he would want you to be happy.”

“Happiness doesn’t necessarily come from finding a man.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Mary Margaret released Emma’s hand, retreating from the contact and the conversation. “Just, promise me you’ll stay open to it.”

“I will.” Emma smiled. Her mother meant well. “Now can I eat my grilled cheese?”

The remainder of lunch was uneventful, her mother was clearly trying to take Emma’s mind off of things. Which she greatly appreciated, she loved her mother but the only thing that would truly ease Emma’s ever wandering thoughts would be reaching a conclusion. Whatever that conclusion may be.

Emma waved good-bye to her mother as they parted ways in front of Granny’s. Their bellies now satisfied and full with grilled cheese and onion rings. She walked over to Gold’s Pawnbroker and Antiques Dealer, the shop owned by Neal’s father. Robert Gold. Henry wasn’t old enough to work a real first job, so his grandfather offered him a job helping him around his shop on weekends to make a little money. It was better than Henry sleeping until noon she supposed.

“Hi Emma, looking for Henry?” Belle greeted her as she walked into the dimly lit shop. Robert and Belle (despite her being much younger than him) had been married a few years ago. Truthfully she wasn’t much older than Emma and Neal, but she made Mr. Gold happy so Neal was as on board with it as he could be. Especially after Neal’s actual mother leaving them when he was young. Emma suspected the father and son never really recovered from the shock of that.

“Hi Belle, do you ever just take a day off?” Emma joked. Between working at the police station and helping her husband in the shop she seemed to be busy constantly.

“I’ll go grab Henry he’s downstairs taking inventory.” The bright eyed brunette smiled at Emma before waltzing off to some corner of the building where her son was.

“Thanks.” She smiled. The woman was charming, she couldn’t fault Neal’s father for that.

“Hello there, Emma.” In walked Neal’s father, the unmistakable sound of a cane aiding him wherever he went. He wore a black suit and black tie as was customary. He never wore anything less to run his shop. “Neal tells me the Jones case has reopened.”

“It certainly has thrown us for a loop. Not the kind of thing we’re used to dealing with at our little Storybrooke police department.”

“No, I don’t suppose it would be.” He shifted with his cane. “Best of luck.”

Of all of the things people had said to her in the past two weeks since the case had reopened, not one of them had ever wished her luck. She wondered why the statement stuck out to her so much. It wasn’t an outright insult… though it wasn’t a compliment either.

Emma was saved from having to form a response when Belle and Henry entered the room, her son making his way over to her getting ready to leave.

“Thanks so much again for letting him hang around here.” Emma ruffled her son’s hair smiling at him.

“It’s no problem at all. Especially now since I can’t do much of the heavy lifting myself.” Mr. Gold remarked. The man was a bit odd, he always had been but he had a soft spot for Henry.

“Bye, grandpa. Bye Belle.” Henry waved as they headed out the door, Emma gave a little wave and continued to try to shake off her one on one interaction with Robert as they walked together back to their home.

That night in bed Emma settled in with a cup of tea and one of the books she had purchased at the store earlier. A collection of works by Edgar Allan Poe. She whipped through several short stories and poems as she sipped her tea, enjoying her alone time.

It was after midnight before she realized how tired she was, one more story, she told herself. The Cask of Amontillado. She had remembered reading it in middle school, a bit dark and over her head at the time. While Emma loved literature now back in the day she was not quite as open to the works of Poe and Dickinson and the like.

The story was just as dark as she remembered. A tale of revenge being extracted in the Catacombs. A chill ran down Emma’s spine as she read the tale of Montresor luring his “friend” away from the Carnival, getting him drunk, and chaining him to a wall. Only to wall up the man behind brick and mortar. It was a gruesome idea.

That night Emma dreamt of herself walking through the old Jones mansion. However instead of being in the crumbling state of disrepair it was in now, it had been restored to its former glory. The lights were on, allowing her to navigate more easily.

“Hello?” she called out. Only the sound of her own voice echoed. “Is anyone here?”

She made her way down the hall on the right side of the double staircase. Something was pulling her toward Mr. Jones’ office. She followed.

Inside it looked stately, the dark wood bookshelves lining the back wall. A high leather backed chair sitting behind the mahogany desk central to the room. Unlike her father’s office there were no pictures, there was nothing personal.

Whatever force was pulling her led her toward the wall to her left. It was paneled and she looked around as if to say “what now?”

She hit the wall and immediately a panel fell out, revealing what looked to be some sort of safe. Emma began twisting the lock trying to figure out the combination. She twisted and twisted nothing working. Her fingers grew tired and the lock dissolved in her hands. It fell into a dark abyss below as did the rest of the room.

She awoke drenched in a cold sweat. Her dream had felt almost real. Looking out the window next to her bed she could see that it was just barely light out, the early morning just beginning to fill her bedroom with natural rays of the sun. That was one of the reasons she loved her bedroom so much, you could always see the sunrise as it began to peak over the trees. A feature she wasn’t appreciating so much now. All that was on her mind was getting back to the Jones house and finding what the most recent letter had sent her to find.

“Neal. Wake up. We need to go back to the house.” Emma had chosen to call Neal first despite him being historically cranky in the mornings. She could trust him.

“Em. Are you crazy?” His morning voice came through the speaker. “It’s seven am. Have you talked to Humbert about this?”

“I’ll call Graham on the way. But I just have a….” she didn’t know what she had “I just need to search the place again, without a bunch of people from his team getting in my way.”

“All right. Give me a couple of minutes.” He grumbled, she could hear him slowly rolling out of bed. She knew he would be the best person to call first. He would be unhappy because it was the morning but most of the time he trusted Emma’s instinct more than she did.

“Okay. I’ll pick you up.” She hung up before he could argue any further.

The office of Brennan Jones had laid untouched for years. A prominent businessman of his time, there were many documents scattered about that hadn’t been tended to since his untimely death. The room looked almost the same as it had in her dream with the exception of a small detail she hadn’t noticed before. Though overall there appeared to be no personal items, one distinct object caught her eye before she even crossed the threshold. On top of the desk sat a pencil cup holder made of misshapen clay that had been haphazardly colored in red and black paint. It looked to be the work of a toddler. The kind of gifts that filled her parents’ home. Emma had given David and Mary Margaret countless handmade treasures that were still displayed on every shelf and table. This one in Brennan Jones’ office was the only one of its kind. The only remotely personal item.

Emma picked it up with her gloved hand and turned it over. Carved into the bottom of the now dried clay jar was “K.J. 1986”.

“Is that what we came here for?” Detective Graham was not thrilled as he spoke. Whether his mood was because she had called him to drag him out of bed on a Sunday morning on a ‘gut feeling’ or because she had never called him about going out for coffee, was neither here nor there.

“No. Sorry, I just…” she set the pencil holding jar back on the desk. “I need to see something.”

Her father and Neal were also there. David wasn’t excited to be out of bed and back to work on a Sunday but he was a workaholic like his daughter, so his mood changed quickly.

She made her way to the side of the room from her dream. She could not have possibly told them the reason for their coming here was a secret passage dream induced by an Edgar Allan Poe book, she would sound out of her mind. But as she looked at the paneling of the wall she realized it was entirely possible that there was something behind here. She pressed her ear to the wood and slowly slid down the wall, hitting it with her fist to listen for hollow spots. Halfway down the wall she heard a light rattle. It was ever so faint but it was coming from inside the panels. She knocked again, absolutely certain that to the other three men in the room she looked insane.

The rattling became closer and closer as she moved to the left, hitting the wood until finally she heard a pop. Emma retreated from the wall. Nothing had happened. But as she looked to her left she realized one of the panels had moved slightly out of place with the others. She grabbed a nearby letter opener on the desk and pried the piece of wood from its false placement. It proved to be a bit difficult as the panel had been unmoved for nearly twenty years. Neal came over to help her and they finally removed the piece far enough to reveal what appeared to be a locked cabinet.

“Can you still pick a lock?” she looked at her Neal with a smile, he was the one who had taught her how to pick locks back when they were teenagers. A skill that now came in handy as a cop… and a mother.

“Allow me.” He reached into his pocket for a small black pouch that contained tools for such a task.

David and Graham had now made their way over, if either of them wondered what in the fuck had just happened they had decided against saying anything. The three all watched expectantly as Neal twisted the sharp tools in the lock. After a few tense moments they heard the click and it popped open.

Emma opened the door to the cabinet and looked inside. Not much was in the hidden cabinet save for a document folded into three and shoved in an envelope in the back corner. Whatever the note from the mysterious person had wanted them to find, Emma was certain this was it. She opened the document and scanned the words.

“Em what is it?” David asked after a few seconds of silence.

“It’s the draft of Brennan’s will. It was never officiated. But it’s dated three days before they were murdered.” Emma gulped. “It names Killian and Liam as the sole heirs to the entire Jones fortune.”

Monday morning came quickly, and the whole office was in a bit of a frenzy. Research had been hard at work determining the details of the drafted will. Was it a document that had only been seen by a few? How had it gone unnoticed before? What did Brennan’s actual will on file from twenty years ago say? In addition, the note the office had received giving them the hint of where to find the very important document had been sent off to Graham’s office in Boston for further DNA testing. Emma had a feeling it would come back clean just as the first one had, but still protocol required it be analyzed.

She sat in the conference room with Graham and David on either side of her, facing Killian, Liam and Regina their lawyer, Emma was almost fully recovered from the last time she had been in this environment. It made things easier knowing she and Killian had reached some level of understanding at the bookstore on Saturday, at least one that would allow them to have a conversation.

“Miss Nolan, neither one of my clients had any idea this will even existed. It’s a draft. And it’s been hidden under lock and key.” She slammed her pen down on her legal pad. “Not even Brennan’s financial advisor had any record of it.”

“You understand how it looks though? Correct? A will is mysteriously drafted three days before Mr. and Mrs. Jones are brutally murdered, leaving everything to those two in the event of their death.” Emma always felt like the Jones’ fancy lawyer was talking down to her. She was a highly sought after attorney. It seemed as though she had come along with Killian’s office in London. Emma idly wondered how well the two actually knew each other… and then caught herself. She bit back any further comment to Regina Mills, not wanting to explode again.

“I understand but until you have further indication that that document is incriminating to Liam and Killian you have no argument here.” Regina stood to convey that she was done. “The money and the assets haven’t been touched since the death of Brennan Jones. It’s clear that if that had been the motive, we would know it.”

She wasn’t wrong. As much as it would be easy to point fingers at the brothers, not a single cent had been claimed or moved by either of them. They would need something else in order for that to hold up in court. Besides.. Emma wasn’t wholly convinced the person writing the cryptic letters was anywhere near done with them. Over an hour had gone by in this room and no progress was made for either side. Emma looked to her father who appeared tired. Between today and yesterday he hadn’t had much sleep. Killian had remained mostly quiet, letting his lawyer do most of the talking. But the few times Emma managed to make eye contact with him he looked a bit pained. She couldn’t imagine her face looked any more relaxed.

“Let us know if anything else comes up.” Liam stood next to Regina. He remained overall silent during conversations, only speaking when asked a direct question. He was kinder though than his brother and usually finished his responses with an understanding smile.

“We will. Thank you for coming in.” Graham stated as he stood, signaling to Emma and David that that was enough for today. The three of them led the way to the hallway outside the conference room. Graham and David made a point to shake everyone’s hand as they passed. Emma held back a little, still standing close to the doorway. She felt someone brush against her arm, only the briefest of touches before grabbing her hand to shake it when she realized it was Killian Jones who was now ever so slightly leaning into her while the others were distracted with their departing pleasantries. She took in an audible breath at the contact. “Wait five minutes and then follow me.” He whispered directly into her ear in a low register only she could hear, sending a tingle down her spine. And somewhere else as well.

[therecoversite]

Holidays for the Families of Addicted Loved Ones

New Post has been published on https://www.therecover.com/holidays-families-addicted-loved-ones/

Holidays for the Families of Addicted Loved Ones

It’s the most wonderfully painful time of the year for people like us. Our celebrations are fenced with healthy boundaries and decorated with harrowing memories. While the rest of the world celebrates in carefree fashion. Sometimes just a holiday card can throw someone over the edge. “Rachel is engaged to a wonderful man and are set to wed this spring!” “Ryan just completed his Masters and begins his Doctorate this coming year, Happy Holidays!” While your loved one just lost their job due to poor attendance because their drug of choice became more important than feeding their family. Unfortunately, the stigma of addiction is prohibitive. Yet many wouldn’t hesitate to share if a loved one had cancer, a heart attack, or poor health. We’re supposed to be happy. We’re supposed to be close to the ones we love. But the ones we love are metaphorically miles away, no matter the physical nearness.

Contrary to popular belief, addiction harms more than just the addict. I’m not a lone case, although it can feel that way at a holiday party with friends. I know there’s more of us. It can be hard to talk about when it’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s not so much shame, it’s more about the fact that we don’t want to take away from the festivities with something other than positive news. And then guilt sets in, for feeling like you can’t even talk about them. Like you’re ashamed of them, when its actually just pain. I miss my sister. I just want so much more good for her, and I can’t help her anymore.

I can admit I shed tears for the loss of relationship with my sister. I cry over her, behind closed door silence. I cry away from her son that I am raising due to her poor choices. He doesn’t understand how this could be anything but an exciting time. At 7, he doesn’t see the instability in her life. And I’ve been lucky enough to be able to give him a solid environment for him to grow in. The weekend visits with his parents happen every Friday evening, and this weekend it will be filled with holiday activities at my expense, so that my nephew can live in a normalized bubble with his struggling parents, shielded by the walls of our home. When the visit ends, she goes home, and we continue on in our celebration while I’m left feeling guilty for not being able to include her more in his daily life. If we want to have any kind of relationship, sometimes families must accept their addicted loved ones where they are, perhaps still using, grasping the good times when they can. At these moments and for any positive changes, no matter how small, praise from family members can go a long way.

If you are feeling any way at all like me, I can try to help. I don’t have all the answers, but as a person currently struggling, sometimes you just need to read it. If you have decided to allow your loved one to celebrate with you, think of your game plan ahead of time.

Set boundaries that are important to you and your family. Let them know they must be adhered to by the alcoholic/addict in order to participate. Set the arrival time, let them know they need to arrive clean and sober (if you smell alcohol on their breath or they are acting intoxicated, they will not be aloud in). If they live with you, ask them to leave until the get together is over. They will need to check their attitude at the door, if they cannot participate in a well-mannered demeanor, they will not be welcome.

Keep the boundaries easy and doable, it doesn’t need to be complicated.

Make sure this is spoken about at least a week in advice, so there is no surprises. It gives your loved one time to think it over, get right with your expectations or not participate at all.

You are not responsible for defending your decisions. If you don’t engage and stay in a neutral position, you will be perceived as having a well thought out plan that shows self-respect.

This isn’t the time to bring up old examples of how the addict has let you down before, it most definitely will start an argument which is completely unnecessary.

Be clear with the consequences if your conditions are not met.

Make sure the both of you understand what those ramifications are so that no one can call it a misunderstanding or take away the importance of your plan. This is so significant.

If they don’t like the rules you have set up, simply say “It makes me sad that you won’t be able to join us, but that is your right.” They then have to take responsibility for their decision, although it could be so much easier to blame you.

Be firm in your decisions. Your boundaries are to be built on a rock-solid prearrangement. Making excuses is a natural response when the person has not lived up to their end of the bargain, but don’t allow that to overshadow your plans. You want to think because it’s the holidays you can cut them some slack, but it only makes it a lose/lose scenario all around.

Let your other family members know about your arrangement as well, so everyone is on the same page.

Allow your loved one to decline the invitation, for whatever reason that may be. Keep an open mind and respect it with no guilt or judgement placed upon them.

At the same time, please be aware of your expectations. Sometimes the expectations placed on your loved on can be a burden in itself.

Keep your expectations in check. You are dealing with someone who might not be as truthful as you would like them to be. This may be disappointing, but don’t let it surprise you.

You may need to keep you desire to have your whole family together a quiet wish, Try not to involve the family too much. And help them to keep their expectations lowered as well.

It’s hard to remember this, but do not take it personally if your expectations are not met; it’s just the nature of the beast and what they may be struggling with at this particular time.

This is only our second Christmas in our new roles. I’m still struggling every time a big event comes around. I don’t always know how to handle it. I have to be reminded in my support groups that we too deserve a calm and memorable holiday. We can’t let our loved ones take away from our own celebrations. And if you have reserved your holidays without them, there will be others. Regardless of your company, I want to wish you a joyous holiday season!

[therecoversite]

Holidays for the Families of Addicted Loved Ones

New Post has been published on https://therecoverdev.wpengine.com/holidays-families-addicted-loved-ones/

Holidays for the Families of Addicted Loved Ones

It’s the most wonderfully painful time of the year for people like us. Our celebrations are fenced with healthy boundaries and decorated with harrowing memories. While the rest of the world celebrates in carefree fashion. Sometimes just a holiday card can throw someone over the edge. “Rachel is engaged to a wonderful man and are set to wed this spring!” “Ryan just completed his Masters and begins his Doctorate this coming year, Happy Holidays!” While your loved one just lost their job due to poor attendance because their drug of choice became more important than feeding their family. Unfortunately, the stigma of addiction is prohibitive. Yet many wouldn’t hesitate to share if a loved one had cancer, a heart attack, or poor health. We’re supposed to be happy. We’re supposed to be close to the ones we love. But the ones we love are metaphorically miles away, no matter the physical nearness.

Contrary to popular belief, addiction harms more than just the addict. I’m not a lone case, although it can feel that way at a holiday party with friends. I know there’s more of us. It can be hard to talk about when it’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s not so much shame, it’s more about the fact that we don’t want to take away from the festivities with something other than positive news. And then guilt sets in, for feeling like you can’t even talk about them. Like you’re ashamed of them, when its actually just pain. I miss my sister. I just want so much more good for her, and I can’t help her anymore.

I can admit I shed tears for the loss of relationship with my sister. I cry over her, behind closed door silence. I cry away from her son that I am raising due to her poor choices. He doesn’t understand how this could be anything but an exciting time. At 7, he doesn’t see the instability in her life. And I’ve been lucky enough to be able to give him a solid environment for him to grow in. The weekend visits with his parents happen every Friday evening, and this weekend it will be filled with holiday activities at my expense, so that my nephew can live in a normalized bubble with his struggling parents, shielded by the walls of our home. When the visit ends, she goes home, and we continue on in our celebration while I’m left feeling guilty for not being able to include her more in his daily life. If we want to have any kind of relationship, sometimes families must accept their addicted loved ones where they are, perhaps still using, grasping the good times when they can. At these moments and for any positive changes, no matter how small, praise from family members can go a long way.

If you are feeling any way at all like me, I can try to help. I don’t have all the answers, but as a person currently struggling, sometimes you just need to read it. If you have decided to allow your loved one to celebrate with you, think of your game plan ahead of time.

Set boundaries that are important to you and your family. Let them know they must be adhered to by the alcoholic/addict in order to participate. Set the arrival time, let them know they need to arrive clean and sober (if you smell alcohol on their breath or they are acting intoxicated, they will not be aloud in). If they live with you, ask them to leave until the get together is over. They will need to check their attitude at the door, if they cannot participate in a well-mannered demeanor, they will not be welcome.

Keep the boundaries easy and doable, it doesn’t need to be complicated.

Make sure this is spoken about at least a week in advice, so there is no surprises. It gives your loved one time to think it over, get right with your expectations or not participate at all.

You are not responsible for defending your decisions. If you don’t engage and stay in a neutral position, you will be perceived as having a well thought out plan that shows self-respect.

This isn’t the time to bring up old examples of how the addict has let you down before, it most definitely will start an argument which is completely unnecessary.

Be clear with the consequences if your conditions are not met.

Make sure the both of you understand what those ramifications are so that no one can call it a misunderstanding or take away the importance of your plan. This is so significant.

If they don’t like the rules you have set up, simply say “It makes me sad that you won’t be able to join us, but that is your right.” They then have to take responsibility for their decision, although it could be so much easier to blame you.

Be firm in your decisions. Your boundaries are to be built on a rock-solid prearrangement. Making excuses is a natural response when the person has not lived up to their end of the bargain, but don’t allow that to overshadow your plans. You want to think because it’s the holidays you can cut them some slack, but it only makes it a lose/lose scenario all around.

Let your other family members know about your arrangement as well, so everyone is on the same page.

Allow your loved one to decline the invitation, for whatever reason that may be. Keep an open mind and respect it with no guilt or judgement placed upon them.

At the same time, please be aware of your expectations. Sometimes the expectations placed on your loved on can be a burden in itself.

Keep your expectations in check. You are dealing with someone who might not be as truthful as you would like them to be. This may be disappointing, but don’t let it surprise you.

You may need to keep you desire to have your whole family together a quiet wish, Try not to involve the family too much. And help them to keep their expectations lowered as well.

It’s hard to remember this, but do not take it personally if your expectations are not met; it’s just the nature of the beast and what they may be struggling with at this particular time.

This is only our second Christmas in our new roles. I’m still struggling every time a big event comes around. I don’t always know how to handle it. I have to be reminded in my support groups that we too deserve a calm and memorable holiday. We can’t let our loved ones take away from our own celebrations. And if you have reserved your holidays without them, there will be others. Regardless of your company, I want to wish you a joyous holiday season!

[therecoversite]

Holidays for the Families of Addicted Loved Ones

New Post has been published on https://therecoverdev.wpengine.com/holidays-families-addicted-loved-ones/

Holidays for the Families of Addicted Loved Ones

It’s the most wonderfully painful time of the year for people like us. Our celebrations are fenced with healthy boundaries and decorated with harrowing memories. While the rest of the world celebrates in carefree fashion. Sometimes just a holiday card can throw someone over the edge. “Rachel is engaged to a wonderful man and are set to wed this spring!” “Ryan just completed his Masters and begins his Doctorate this coming year, Happy Holidays!” While your loved one just lost their job due to poor attendance because their drug of choice became more important than feeding their family. Unfortunately, the stigma of addiction is prohibitive. Yet many wouldn’t hesitate to share if a loved one had cancer, a heart attack, or poor health. We’re supposed to be happy. We’re supposed to be close to the ones we love. But the ones we love are metaphorically miles away, no matter the physical nearness.

Contrary to popular belief, addiction harms more than just the addict. I’m not a lone case, although it can feel that way at a holiday party with friends. I know there’s more of us. It can be hard to talk about when it’s the most wonderful time of the year. It’s not so much shame, it’s more about the fact that we don’t want to take away from the festivities with something other than positive news. And then guilt sets in, for feeling like you can’t even talk about them. Like you’re ashamed of them, when its actually just pain. I miss my sister. I just want so much more good for her, and I can’t help her anymore.

I can admit I shed tears for the loss of relationship with my sister. I cry over her, behind closed door silence. I cry away from her son that I am raising due to her poor choices. He doesn’t understand how this could be anything but an exciting time. At 7, he doesn’t see the instability in her life. And I’ve been lucky enough to be able to give him a solid environment for him to grow in. The weekend visits with his parents happen every Friday evening, and this weekend it will be filled with holiday activities at my expense, so that my nephew can live in a normalized bubble with his struggling parents, shielded by the walls of our home. When the visit ends, she goes home, and we continue on in our celebration while I’m left feeling guilty for not being able to include her more in his daily life. If we want to have any kind of relationship, sometimes families must accept their addicted loved ones where they are, perhaps still using, grasping the good times when they can. At these moments and for any positive changes, no matter how small, praise from family members can go a long way.

If you are feeling any way at all like me, I can try to help. I don’t have all the answers, but as a person currently struggling, sometimes you just need to read it. If you have decided to allow your loved one to celebrate with you, think of your game plan ahead of time.

Set boundaries that are important to you and your family. Let them know they must be adhered to by the alcoholic/addict in order to participate. Set the arrival time, let them know they need to arrive clean and sober (if you smell alcohol on their breath or they are acting intoxicated, they will not be aloud in). If they live with you, ask them to leave until the get together is over. They will need to check their attitude at the door, if they cannot participate in a well-mannered demeanor, they will not be welcome.

Keep the boundaries easy and doable, it doesn’t need to be complicated.

Make sure this is spoken about at least a week in advice, so there is no surprises. It gives your loved one time to think it over, get right with your expectations or not participate at all.

You are not responsible for defending your decisions. If you don’t engage and stay in a neutral position, you will be perceived as having a well thought out plan that shows self-respect.

This isn’t the time to bring up old examples of how the addict has let you down before, it most definitely will start an argument which is completely unnecessary.

Be clear with the consequences if your conditions are not met.

Make sure the both of you understand what those ramifications are so that no one can call it a misunderstanding or take away the importance of your plan. This is so significant.

If they don’t like the rules you have set up, simply say “It makes me sad that you won’t be able to join us, but that is your right.” They then have to take responsibility for their decision, although it could be so much easier to blame you.

Be firm in your decisions. Your boundaries are to be built on a rock-solid prearrangement. Making excuses is a natural response when the person has not lived up to their end of the bargain, but don’t allow that to overshadow your plans. You want to think because it’s the holidays you can cut them some slack, but it only makes it a lose/lose scenario all around.

Let your other family members know about your arrangement as well, so everyone is on the same page.

Allow your loved one to decline the invitation, for whatever reason that may be. Keep an open mind and respect it with no guilt or judgement placed upon them.

At the same time, please be aware of your expectations. Sometimes the expectations placed on your loved on can be a burden in itself.

Keep your expectations in check. You are dealing with someone who might not be as truthful as you would like them to be. This may be disappointing, but don’t let it surprise you.

You may need to keep you desire to have your whole family together a quiet wish, Try not to involve the family too much. And help them to keep their expectations lowered as well.

It’s hard to remember this, but do not take it personally if your expectations are not met; it’s just the nature of the beast and what they may be struggling with at this particular time.

This is only our second Christmas in our new roles. I’m still struggling every time a big event comes around. I don’t always know how to handle it. I have to be reminded in my support groups that we too deserve a calm and memorable holiday. We can’t let our loved ones take away from our own celebrations. And if you have reserved your holidays without them, there will be others. Regardless of your company, I want to wish you a joyous holiday season!