#Lily's postal office

[siren-sashimi]

Hey, I had some questions about your marquis de gramont ballet fic

1: how does the reader do under Vincent’s tuleage

2: I know you said that chidi tries to know things about ballet to connect with the reader but does he ever make a move (I.e asking the reader out)? If so, does the reader reciprocate his feelings?

3: does Vincent ever find out about chidi’s crush? If so, does he support chidi or does he block him?

4: If he blocks chidi is it out of professional disdain (like “you’re both working with me, I don’t want you dating”) or is it because HE also feels something for the reader and wants to pursue them

Hello Anon! :D

Alright, the reader dating Chidi under Vincent's patronage was a separate story coming to my mind which might branch off from Hemimetabolism.

So generally, even without Vincent as romantic endgame, Vincent is very much someone who doesn't dish out favours without the work if he doesn't want to. And Vincent wants someone who does work for the money he pays and the prestige he gives them. Meaning, he sees a lot of potential in the reader but also demands them to overcome any restraints and doubts to give it their all. He wants the reader to focus and set clear goals. Casting choices, landing good spots is an easy exercise in influence for him. Actually it's not that bad to work in an artistic arrangement for him you're mostly left alone. But when demands to deliver you have to deliver in best form. So the reader is constantly labouring on, reflecting, ironing out details in their work. The thing is, it can mentally separate this protegée from their environment because they don't have to compete anymore against someone but only need improve for this man. And the oportunities he offers are amazing. Although be it, if Vincent wants to see you dance for the company in St. Petersburg the reader has to out all their effort to be worthy of St. Petersburg. At some point humoring Vincent becomes a runner because he's so enrapturing, he can easily outshine anything else in the reader's life.

Okay now to a plot bunny with Chidi. *rubs hands and cackles* As far as Chidi sees it both of you are employees under Vincent. While you might get a bit more pampered that treatment is more due to the nature of your job. In the end Vincent isn't too emotionally attached to any employee, loosing them is a mere loss of good staff. (Unless Vincent is personally more interested but that's another story. ;))

Let's say on the ocassions they meet Chidi isn't directly flirting, at least not with his boss present but he smiles at, compliments, and sometimes even makes little jokes with the reader. Intensity growing with each meeting. And it's nice. Nothing obtrusive but a relief to have someone be nice to a reader when they have to approach a very demanding Marquis de Gramont. Not that Chidi can't be nice to other people but he opens himself up because he is crushing on you. Only after you're noticeably easy going with him, he begins to flirt with you when you're on a coffee break, whenever Vincent happens to be in town.

On the reader's part it is all more a classical case of slowly building up romance with a a guy at work who seems nice enough to try going on a date with. Event though the work is on a shadier side life. Oh yeah, Chidi dating the reader is something needs to notice for a very long time. Again, Vincent is too absorbed in his own matters to spend much time thinking in any humane way about his employees. Maybe it takes such an obvious scene as him seeing Chidi hand you a bit bouquet backstage and kissing your cheek after a performance of yours.

Now, two outcomes: 1. If Vincent sees the reader purely as employed for "art for art's sake" then he might maybe sit the two of you down and make some things very clear. In the end he tolerates it more than he approves, afterall the reader could've dated anyone while under patronage, in this case it just happens to be Vincent's bloodhound. (Vincent just didn't think about it before.) The Marquis' demands are super invasive, during the talk the reader feels more like property than a person. The Marquis "allows" this relationship to happen under the condition that you remain "intact". Meaning: No injuries, no marks on stage (this is not the right moment to remind the Marquis that stage make up exists), no pregnancy, any personal drama shall not affect your performance, no romance related retirement for both of you. Chidi is less shaken by the speech than the reader is as he already lives a life under similar conditions, all submitted to the will of the Marquis de Gramont. Safe to say, while the incident of conditional speech is unnerving, Chidi and the reader can go on as usual.

2. Alternative if Vincent harbors a crush on the reader. Oh boy, does he become possessive. Chidi's very much used to Vincent's mercurial personality as well as living a life with the primary raison d'être: All for the will of the Marquis de Gramont. Vincent retaliates by first forbidding Chidi to see you (no explanation as to why,) even goes so far to switch the Myrmidone who accompanies him for cultural excursions. Chidi is very much unhappy about this but his life is so centered around the Marquis that his resistance lies only in a very honest letter to the reader. In which he writes that he's forbidden to see you, what he loves about you, how much he wishes for you prospering. Time by time Chidi is ever so romantic sending a bouquet anonymously. The reader knows it was him, the bouquets always bear at least one one of their favourite flowers.

It's not like as if Chidi doesn't suspect the Marquis acting out of personal impulse but it's not in their relationship to question the Marquis. At least Vincent is intelligent enough to pursue the reader under Chidi's notice. One has to keep their employees somewhat happy, aka not give them a reason to revolt or quitting the job. But Vincent could enter unsavory territory by explaining to the reader dating would ruin their performance (again, if he wasn't interested he would only care if relationships actually interfered with the reader's work) while slowly but surely dismantling the reader's defenses around him. Like invading their privacy more and more by having unnecessary personal meetings, sending the reader clothes and jewelry he wants to see the reader wearing for him on galas or charity events, secretly odering the costume staff to design the reader's costume in a way he likes to see on them. Vincent will also aggressively try to outmatch anyone nearing you. You were invited for a date? Ah, it just happens that Vincent would like to have a performance review. Someone showed interest in you? Their past dirt is dragged out without mercy. You privately show signs of unhappiness to be this lonely? Suddenly the Marquis de Gramont is personally at your doorstep and shows a previously unknown capability of attentiveness.

[lilihasabadweek]

The second Anakin receives the box he sprints to find Obi-Wan, dragging him from his training to open the box privately in their quarters. They start to sob as soon as they even see the blanket, spending the next several hours snuggling with it as they stare at the photos.

“I think… Juliet, for a girl,” Ben finally says softly, “I’ve… I’ve always loved that name.”

Anakin nods, brushing his thumb along the edge of the girl’s photo- he doesn’t want to grease it up with his fingerprints on the actual thing.

“What about- Luca?” He suggests. “For the boy? Is that okay?”

Ben nods quickly. “I love that. Luca and Juliet.”

“How do we write back to her?”

“I suppose we send it back to this address,” he shrugs. “And pray that it reaches her.”

They write back to you and sneak off to the postal office in the city, rather than using their in-Temple mailing system.

And a week later, it reaches you.

Lili,

We’re terribly in love with the pups. Gods, they’re beautiful. After many hours of thinking, we would like to offer up Luca and Juliet.

If you don’t like those names we won’t be upset. We’d love to hear your ideas. And we miss you terribly. Please let us know if we’re not allowed to visit- because if not, we’ll be at your home within the next two weeks.

- Ben and Anakin

I don’t even receive their letter until the two weeks is up as I don’t go in to the postal office until then, having taken the time to lay around with the babies inside of my nest.

Luca and Juliet… those names are perfect. Absolutely perfect.

[thelittlemarketbunch]

Good morning everyone, I hope you all had a great weekend and are ready to tackle the new week ahead. Today, I wanted to share a little Monday motivation speech with you all, as well as some inspiration for the beautiful flower design we have in the office today. The flower design includes a combination of spray roses, lilies, and statice. Each of these flowers has its own unique meaning and symbolism. The spray roses represent elegance and grace, while the lilies symbolize purity and renewal. The statice, on the other hand, represents memories and lasting connections. As we begin this new week, let us all strive to embody the qualities represented by these flowers. Let us approach our work with elegance and grace, remembering to keep our minds and hearts pure and open to new opportunities for growth and renewal. And let us hold on to the memories and connections that have shaped us and brought us to where we are today. So, let's start this Monday with a fresh perspective, a positive attitude and a clear mind. Let's set our goals high and work hard to achieve them. Together, we can accomplish anything. Have a great day! . January discount: free candle is back again with any purchase over $60 on our APP or website ! . Our little bunch starts from $39.95 Free delivery within 10km from Melbourne CBD (free delivery minimum spend $60). Same-day delivery is available to ALL SUBURBS within 50km from Melbourne CBD 3000. Postal gift box is open for all states in Australia via postal service. . To order, please head to our website: tlmb.com.au . Mon - Fri Melbourne Same-day business address delivery order before 1PM, Residential address order before 5PM, Saturday same day delivery order before 3pm, unless sold out early. . #flowers #flower #flowersofinstagram #blooms #bloomsoftheday #florist #bouquet #vase #jar #rose #giftbox #preservedflower #driedflowers #native #nativeflowers #melbourne #flowerdelivery #melbourneflower #melbourneflowerdelivery #flowerstagram #flowerlovers #flowergram #flowersmakemehappy #floraldesign #sprayroses #lilies #monday #mondaymotivation (at The Little Market Bunch) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoAyi74Sxv4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[chdarling]

is mary's reply going to make an appearance soon? i feel like you have something beautifully catastrophic planned with the timing of her next letter ... mwahaha

on the topic of international owl post, i cant help but worry mary will receive james and lily's wedding invitation 3 months late,, we need jily-focused post office reforms and we need them now!

Yeah jily saved the whole wizarding world with their hero baby but what they are REALLY celebrated for is their dedication to postal reform 😌

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

I normally don't send requests cause I think I'm bad at explaining what I want to ask. But I was wondering if you would do a fred x potter!reader where fred is older than her. And she is realizing that she has a crush on the older boy. Yeah you can take it anywhere.

oh I have plans for this one

set in a non voldy AU

You were Harry's little sister, one year younger than him. He and you were close for the most part but something about this year was different. This was the year you were going to Hogwarts. James of course was excited to see his little girl go off to his school that he made plenty of fond memories.

For the most part you were excited. Until people started associating you with things your brother had done. "Way to go Potter, couldn't stop your brother from sneaking into the woods again?" "we lost fourty house points because of your stupid brother!" was just the beginning of the things that you heard. The worst part? You shared the same house as him. Therefore when he lost points, they blamed you for being unable to stop him. It got worse though when he retaliated against Draco after a colorful insult was thrown at him. Slytherins decided the best way to retaliate was to go for you. So prank after prank, fight after fight you were tormented and teased.

You kept this from Harry though, no one really aware of the situation until one of the pranks backfired horribly. Pansy fucking Parkinson. She did this, shoving you into the lake when you were near it. The problem? Mermaids. Ginny saw this and ran over, ultimately saving your life. She told Mcgonagall what happened, Pansy getting in trouble while you were mostly traumatized from even walking near the lake. You walked in, wrapped in a blanket and soaked. Ginny walked in behind you. "I'll make us some tea okay? Try to relax." She said. Fred and George looked up as you shivered. "What happened?" Harry asked. "You did!" You snapped. "Me?" "You think just because your a quidditch star you can do things just to get away with it! Well I've been dealing with the consequences for months! People keep blaming me for what you've done and I'm sick of it!" You snapped. Fred frowned. "Who did this?" He asked. "Slytherin." Ginny said. "George." Fred called, the two walking out. "I didn't know." Harry muttered as you got up and went to your dorm. "She's upset Harry... She'll cool off." Hermione said.

Fred and George both took it upon themselves to prank all of Slytherin to get back at everything they did to you. Pansy Parkinson? Was pissed. She walked into the Great Hall, angrily walking over to you. "YOU!" She snapped. "Me?" You asked. "DON'T PLAY DUMB POTTER" she snapped. "What did I do!?" You asked. "YOU PUT A SMOKE BOMB IN THE COMMON ROOM!" she yelled. "I don't even know how to get to your common room!" You said. "Oh come now Parkinson, surely you know a Weasley prank when you see one!" Fred said standing up. "You sent your Lackeys to pick up your mess, typical Potter!" Draco snorted. "I didn't--" "She didn't send us. But let the record show that if you mess with her again, we will end you." George said, putting a protective hand on your shoulder as Fred put his hand on your other. "Mark my words Weasley, you're going down." Pansy hissed. "Looking forward to it you insufferable git." Fred said, tipping an invisible hat to you.

Fred and George managed to get the heat away from you, but now they seemed to want to spend a lot of time with you. Both of the boys realized they didn't know you as well as they should've so they started walking you to classes, sitting with you and Ginny at lunch, they seemed to take some sort of liking to you. You however chose to ignore them, figuring the only reason they spoke to you was because of Harry. However, one day George cracked a joke. It was a stupid one, the punchline being a pun about a skeleton, but you laughed. Fred almost found that little laugh of yours to be... Cute.

The first year was coming to a close, it being the last week of school. You were sitting on the couch one late night, looking at the fire in the fire place. Fred sat next to you and you didn't say anything. "So we've completed another year." Fred said. You nodded. "You start your second year. You'll have a lot more activities available to you, think you'll try out for Quidditch?" He asked. "Hell. No." You said. "I'm not even sure I want to come back here next year." You muttered. "What? Why?" Fred asked. "Everyone cares about who my brother is. No one knows anything about me, no one has tried to know." you muttered. "Me, Ginny and George have." he said. "Try not to fret on what other people say Y/n. You want an identity outside of 'Harry's sister'? Make one for yourself. If me and George cared about what other people said all the time we would not be the legends we are now." he said simply. "....That's... Why do you care?" You asked. "Because we don't want you to go." Ginny said walking in. "We actually like you." George said sitting next to you. "....Okay... I'll stay." you nodded. "Aye! she stays!" Fred said, playfully roughing up your hair and making you laugh.

The school year came to a close, you and Harry going home. Two weeks in to summer though, Lily announced that you and Harry would spend the summer at the Burrow. "wait wait wait. Harry AND me?" You asked. "Apparently Ginny, Fred and George all want to see you too." Lily nodded. "But what about you and dad? or uncle Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail?" you asked. "We will visit you two, we all have work though honey." Lily assured. "Promise?" you asked. "I promise you we will write, visit, do you want smoke signals too?" James asked making Lily roll her eyes.

So you spent the summer at the Burrow, having the time of your life with Fred and George, actually becoming very close with them. The second school year started and you actually seemed to enjoy it, spending a lot of your free time with Hagrid and the substitute teacher for Quirrell... Uncle Moony. This year, Hagrid was to take care of a dragon for Fred's brother. It was sick, Charlie being unable to cure it. He figured Hagrid would have better luck so he sent it to him. You helped Hagrid out all the time so Hagrid decided that you should give it a shot. Well something you did worked because the dragon was better in no time. Which prompted a LONG letter to Fred about his best friend and asking for information about you. "IS SHE HOPING TO HAVE A CAREER WORKING WITH MAGICAL CREATURES, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN SAY YES!" or "IS SHE SMART? WHAT AM I SAYING OF COURSE SHE'S SMART" were just a few of the many pages he sent.

"Okay, what did you do to get my brother to like you?" Fred asked, setting the thick envelope next to you as he sat down. "What?" you asked. "My brother Charlie messaged all of us questioning who you were and if you wanted to work with dragons." George explained. "Wait what do you mean, all of you?" you asked. "All of us." Ginny, Ron, Fred and George all said. "Seriously, what did you do?" George asked. "Well... Charlie sent Hagrid a sick dragon, he couldn't seem to cure it. I've been helping Hagrid so once Hagrid seemed to fail they asked me to at least try... Something I did worked because Blaze was shipped back this morning and he's okay." you explained. "Think you'll answer him?" George asked Fred. Fred looked at you and then the letter. "Do you want a career with magical creatures?" he asked. Harry rose a brow and noticed you ponder this before nodding. "Yeah. I think I do." you nodded.

So Fred answered the questions, sending a letter back to his brother. Two weeks later you were sitting in the Great Hall, talking to George when the doors opened and this wild looking homeless guy ran in. And he ran up to you. You jumped back before Fred choked on his drink. "CHARLIE!?" He and George gasped. "This is Charlie!? I thought he was homeless! or a crazy guy! or both!" you gaped. "Tell me I've got the right kid." He said. "Would you slow down Mister Weasley, we all need to have a long discussion about what's best for Y/n." Remus halted. "Right! Your office or Hagrid's?" Charlie asked. Remus looked at you and then Charlie. "Alright. Mine." Remus sighed before you three walked off. "What does your brother want with my sister?" Harry asked. "I have no idea." Ron answered. " I think I know." Ginny muttered.

Well that summer you ended up apart of a apprenticeship. Was Lily thrilled for you to be working close with dangerous creatures in a foreign country? no. But you seemed to be working towards a goal which she was proud of. So you spent your summer in Romania with Charlie and his many, many, many, MANY dragons. Due to the fact that the postal service in Romania was less than stellar though, no one had heard from you except James and Lily who was checking in with officials regularly.

By the beginning of the year, you still were missing by the first dinner. Until George noticed you walk out of the faculty door near the table. Fred locked onto you. You looked... Different. Your hair was longer, your eyes were brighter and you seemed.... more mature. You didn't have to do anything, you didn't have to say anything to voice the newfound maturity, it was in the way you stood and carried yourself. You were wearing this leather type armor, standing there with a small grin as Charlie emerged from the door behind you.

"What's Charlie doing here?" Ron asked. "No clue, this is the first I've seen Y/n with my own eyes since she left for Romania." Harry said. "We thought you wrote to her." Ginny said. "Tried, the mailing in Romania is bad. Something definitely happened over there though. Mum and Dad took off in a hurry that one week, it's why I was with you guys for those few weeks of summer." Harry explained. Fred rose a brow, noticing a mark on your neck... It was almost like Remus's scar. He wasn't sure if what he was seeing was actually a scar though, seeing as the armor seemed to cover most of your body.

Charlie leaned over, whispering in your ear and you nodded before whispering something back. Charlie seemed to resist laughing at something you said before you walked over and sat down. "Hey guys, how was your summer?" You asked. Harry blinked. "....Anything else to add to that?" He asked. "...Uh... Nice to see you bro?" you asked. "...How about 'hey, so I'm wearing armor the first day I'm at school' or something!" Harry huffed. "Actually I have to wear this on the job, metal armor gets too hot and the leather actually works really well for dragons who are teething." you explained. "You've spent too much time with Charlie." Ginny observed. "What was it like?" Harry asked. "I thought mum and dad would've told you, they were in Romania the last two weeks...?" You said confused. "Wait, back up, your parents left too?" George asked. You blinked. "Yeah, why?" you asked. "Dad left pretty damn quick to Romania a week ago, so did our brother Bill." George pointed out. "Oh... We had an... incident." you coughed.

"What incident?" Fred asked. The Great Hall doors seemed to answer your silent prayers as they opened. Two large groups stood there, one in some powder blue uniform, the other wearing a red uniform. You recognized a few of the students in red and as they entered the room it was clear a few of them recognized you. You ducked your head down, hiding a bit from the boys. "Would the Durmstrang students please sit with Gryffindor and the Beauxbatons sit with Ravenclaw" Mcgonagall instructed. "shit." you muttered. "Rider?" A boy called. "Rider's here!?" Another boy asked. "Who is Rider?" Ron asked. "Afternoon, Rider." a voice said, sitting next to you. Both Ron and Harry looked as if their eyes were about to pop out of their heads. "There's no way that he's talking to--" "Hey Krum, how's it going?" you greeted, seeming like you were trying to avoid the odd nickname the boys called you by. "I didn't think you'd return to Hogwarts when I met you, I'm surprised." He said. "What? wanted me in Durmstrang?" you snorted. "Yes." students from Durmstrang all replied in unison. Fred rose a brow. "Wanna introduce us to your famous friend here Rider?" Fred asked. "Oh. Viktor, my best friends Fred, George and Ginny. Down there is my brother and his friends Ron and Hermione." You said. They all waved but Krum pointed at Hermione. "You were at the World Quidditch game." he commented.

She looked at Harry confused on how he'd be able to recognize her face considering they never met each other. You noticed that look in Krum's eyes. He found her to be attractive. "Wanna explain why a famous quidditch player knows you?" George asked as Krum seemed veered off in a conversation with Hermione. "Met him in Russia." you said. "You were in Romania?" Fred said confused. "Oh we were trailing a Ukrainian Ironbelly that decided to go rogue and long story short... I rode a dragon." You said. "Merlin's Beard your summer sounds exciting." Neville said. "Oh it was life changing." You laughed. "So think you'll stick with the whole dragon thing?" Ginny asked. "Oh hell yeah!" you said, biting into an apple. "so why is Durmstrang and Beauxbaton here?" Hermione asked. "Oh, we figured you knew. The Triwizard tournament." A boy answered.

Fred and George perked up. "The what?" Fred and George asked in unison. "The-- " "Hogwarts is proud to announce that we are holding the Triwizard tournament. Students third year and older may participate, we encourage all of you to put your names in the cup. Only one submission and there will be an age line around the cup to ensure the younger students do not try anything." Dumbledore announced. "Wicked." Fred and George said in unison. "I've missed that." you chuckled. "Missed us did you?" George teased. "Of course. You've made school barrable." You said with a smile. Fred felt it again. The strange warm feeling. You turned back to Ginny and Fred just looked at you as you carried on a full blown conversation with her.

The week carried on with you being called out of certain classes. You would disappear with Hagrid and reemerge with soot on your face or just not come back entirely. You didn't say a word to anyone as to why, not even Fred and George. "Wanna explain why you've been disappearing?" George asked. "Oh, Hagrid just needs help with his lessons." you lied. Course, Fred knew there was some truth to what you were saying. It was like the apprenticeship didn't end in Romania and simply picked back up with Hagrid.

The boys never pressed you any further on it but certainly questioned why a few ministry workers were also pulling you out of class, asking you questions. On top of the oddities you were always wearing a scarf or ensuring your neck was covered. Cedric Diggory asked about this once and got a half assed answer about the Whomping Willow. The group knew better though. Something definitely happened in Romania, what is was not even Harry knew. You walked into the common room at almost two in the morning, unaware of Fred still being awake as you tip toed towards your dorm. "Hold it." He halted. You froze and looked over. "What were you doing out this late?" He asked. "Hagrid. Again. Claimed he spotted a unicorn and wanted me to try to find it." you lied. "Cut the crap Y/n, what were you doing?" He asked. You huffed and sat down. "Ministry meeting." you said. "And you were at a ministry meeting because...?" He asked. "Because we're trying to hunt someone." you muttered. "We? Why are you involved in ministry business?" Fred asked. "Do you know who Fenrir Greyback is?" you asked. "The guy who's trying to make a 'werewolf army'?" Fred asked.

You nodded, a far off look in your eyes. "We found him." You muttered. Fred blinked. "What do you mean, 'we' found him?" He asked. You took off your scarf, undoing your tie and revealing a scar on your neck. "It's why mum and dad took off. Harry doesn't know because we all know he'll get way too worried and then try to do something himself." You muttered. "What happened?" Fred asked. You stared into the flames of the fireplace. "We were in Belgium, chasing a dragon." you began. "It took us through the mountains and before we could turn back it triggered an avalanche. We got stuck in a cave for about two days, me and Charlie had to go deeper to find an exit. Well, when we got to the other exit of the cave we found him, he was hunched over and feeding on a rabbit. He seemed like he was going to attack Charlie but... He saw me and changed his mind I guess." you answered. You shook your head and let out a long sigh. "We got lucky that the other part of our group found us and chased him off but by then the damage was done. The ministry has been asking questions since." you muttered. "Does it hurt?" Fred asked. "Only when I think about how I got it." you answered. Fred said nothing else and you figured he was just processing what he heard.

Instead he wrapped his arms around you and just... Held you. "Fred what are--" "Let me just... hold you for a bit. I may not be able to keep you safe when your off in places like Romania but at least when you're here I can protect you." He said. You relaxed in his gasp and laid against him. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, I'm usually waltzing with danger by this point." you said making him chuckle.

The next morning you two were found asleep on the couch against each other. "Oi. Lovebirds, Dumbledore's got an announcement." George said. You leaned up, realizing that you fell asleep on Fred. And that your tie was off. And that Harry's eyes were locked onto the scar. "Shit." You muttered. Fred leaned up and you sighed. "Harry--" "Don't explain. I probably do not want to know." He said. "Who gave that to you?" Ron asked. Harry tried avoiding looking at it but at his second glance he realized what they were. "forget what I said earlier, when the fuck did you meet a werewolf!?" Harry asked. The group all looked at him. "Harry." You sighed. "It wasn't... Him was it?" He asked. You frowned. "How could you even ask that!? No it wasn't Him!" You snapped. "I'm just trying to get answers!" he said. "And I'm not giving them to you, let's go see what Dumbledore wants." you said, retying your tie before walking out.

Harry however just walked and pestered you. George looked over at Fred who was watching you with this almost... sad look. "What happened last night?" George asked. "She's been through a lot George." Fred muttered. "...You like her." George realized. "What?" Fred asked. Oh poor Fred. The moron was so dense he didn't even realize that was the case. "I don't... I mean I... What?" Fred asked. "You like her." George repeated. "I don't--" You sat down in the Great Hall, Fred sitting across from you and whispering now to George. "I don't." he said.

Still though, when Dumbledore was speaking he heard none of it. Instead he was so focused on you and that damn scar. "Now for the Champions." Dumbledore cleared his throat. Dumbledore cleared his throat. Pieces of parchment flew out from the cup. "Viktor Krum." Dumbledore called. You clapped for your friend, seeming nervous though for some reason. "Fleur Delacour." again, you clapped but your expression seemed very worried. "Please, please, please." you whispered. "Y/n Potter." Dumbledore called. The whole table looked at you with a shocked glance as you seemed relieved and you walked over with the rest of the champions. "She put her--" "Name in the--" "Cup." Harry finished Ron and Ginny's thought.

You went to some sort of meeting for the champions but when you got back all of the Weasleys and Harry were standing there. "What in the hell were you thinking!?" Harry asked. "Gee, I need a new death experience this year." You said sarcastically. "Y/n, he has a point. You've been through a lot this summer and now you want to go into a deadly competition?" Fred asked. Fred had made it clear to the rest of the group he had more answers than they did. "Look I will be a lot better off than the others, I already know what the first challenge is." You said. "Oh and what's that?" Harry asked.

There they stood in the Forbidden Forest behind various bushes to keep hidden from the keepers as they got a shocking answer to their question. Dragons. The answer as horrifying as it may have been was dragons. You stood there in your leather armor talking to Charlie who seemed to be laughing with you. It was clear that Romania made you two closer. You seemed to thrive in this environment. You loved this job and it was clear with the way you handled everything. "Wand at the ready!" a man said. "Let the kid try first Markus." Charlie halted.

A dragon thrashed in his cage, growling. You walked up to the cage, getting closer than most of the workers had been able to. The dragon clearly recognized you. "Zephyr... Calm. Remember what we practiced." You said softly. The dragon almost seemed conflicted as it grunted. It shifted but seemed to relax. "Have any weasels or rabbits?" You asked. They handed you a dead rabbit and you tossed it to the dragon as a reward. "I say, you will probably have the quickest time compared to the other two students." A ministry worker said. "I almost feel like I have a unfair advantage." you said. "You do. But everyone cheats in this thing." Charlie said. You nodded. "Hey. You've got this Y/n... Have you thought about what you're going to do with the reward money?" Charlie asked, sitting on a crate. You rolled your eyes, sitting next to him. Both of you had moved close enough that the group could hear you very well now. "I don't know if I'm going to even win." You said. "Okay, okay. But let's say that you do. What will you do with the money?" Charlie asked. You pondered. "Give it to Fred and George." you said.

Fred and George looked at each other, shocked by your answer. "Really? None of it for yourself?" Charlie asked. "Dad's family comes from money, on top of that, both of my parents work. I'm set for now. I don't need the money. Fred and George though? They have an underground business going on and I think they are going places. They just need the money for it." You said. "Can I ask you something?" He asked. You nodded. "What's going on with you and my brother?" Charlie asked. "Which brother are you talking about?" You avoided the question. Charlie gave you a "You know exactly who I'm talking about" look. You sighed with a nervous blush. "I don't know." you said. Harry looked over at the twins who were listening intently.

"Sometimes I think that he likes me too, other times I know that he's two years older than me and he probably sees me as a kid." you said. George looked over at Fred who was swallowing hard. Charlie shook his head. "I don't think he does. The letter he wrote me about you seemed pretty damn genuine." Charlie said. "What do you mean?" You asked. "I asked him to send me a character reference for the apprenticeship." Oh no. no no no. Fred was the only person who was asked for this outside of faculty members, he knew now they were talking about him. "Hold on a minute." Charlie said. He walked away, leaving you alone for a few minutes. George snuck over to Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Ron. "Aye. This is getting way too personal, you guys should go." George said. Hermione was already sneaking back, as was Ginny. Harry frowned and Fred just seemed to be... Frozen.

His feelings were only just now hitting the poor jackass. "Here." Charlie said, handing you a letter. You sat there, silently reading the letter. First off: Fred could write really well. It was a talent you had no idea he had. The other thing was that it definitely showed some degree of him liking you. Course he described you as "The best friend I didn't mean to gain but glad that I did" which made you slightly unsure if Charlie was right or not. "He is definitely in love with you." Charlie said. "He calls me his best friend Charlie." You halted. "My brother does not write like that unless there's a driving force behind his emotions. He. Loves. You." He said. Harry looked over at Fred and George sighed, looking down. Harry gave a questioning look to Fred but his face said it all. The defeat and acceptance on his face said it all.

The group left and went back to the common room. "Harry? Buddy? Say something." Ron said. "My sister." Is all Harry began with. Fred sighed, running a hand over his face. "You have a ton of girls around you. And you choose my SISTER!?" Harry gaped. Fred couldn't meet the boy's eyes. "Harry. Lay off." Ron said before both Fred and George looked over with a surprised look. "Y/n has proven to be more than capable of navigating things on her own. I don't think Fred even planned this much less knew of his own feelings." Ron said. "...Ron you've been hanging with Hermione way too much." George said. "Well at least I got a little smarter." He shrugged. Harry ran a hand over his face. "I need sleep. That's it. I need to sleep." he said walking away. Fred sat there on the couch in silence, Ron and George sitting in the chairs near him. "What are you going to do?" George asked. "Ignore it." Fred muttered. "What?" Ron and George asked. "Got anything better? Because I'm all ears here!" he asked. Panic was on the boy's face, his eyes wild. "Her uncles could kill me! Her brother, who is a very close friend of mine is pissed! What the hell am I supposed to do!?" Fred asked.

George sighed and leaned forward. "Ignore the outside opinions and go for it." George finally said. "Did you not just--" "I heard you. But when have other people ever influenced your decisions?" George asked. "You have. A lot." He muttered. "Because we're a team and a team makes decisions together." George said. Ron nodded. "I think he should go for it." Ron said. "Go for what?" you asked, walking in. The guys all froze and you blinked. "You guys okay? You seem tense." You said. "We're all good." George said. "Right... I'm going to bed I'm tired." you shrugged before leaving.

You stepped into the dorm, Ginny and Hermione looking over. "You guys are still up?" you asked. "Yeah. Y/n, sit down we've got somethings to tell you." Hermione said. You sat down, confused. "Is something wrong?" You asked. "We know about you liking Fred." Ginny said. Your heart dropped. "Uhm... what?" you asked, voice small. "We know." Hermione repeated. "Who knows?" You asked. "What?" Ginny asked. "Who all knows?" You asked. "...George, Ron, Harry--" "Fuck." you whined. "And Fred." Ginny added making your face drop. "What!?" You gaped. "Your brother decided to follow you out, we went with him figuring that you were going out to whatever challenge was happening. We were right to an extent but then Charlie and you started talking. Me and Hermione left, George tried to get Harry to at least go but then Charlie started talking and it was too late." Ginny said. You ran your hand over your face before getting up. "Where are you going?" "Out."

You ended up sneaking outside, sitting on the ground near the whomping willow. Filch never really walked over to the area so you felt in the clear. You were picking at the grass, looking over the hillside. You weren't exactly thrilled, having a crush on an older boy. If you could take back your feelings, by God you would. This was scary and tiring all at once. Harry was probably pissed, the girls probably were judging the hell out of you right now and Fred... God Fred probably thought you were ridiculous.

"Y/n?" A voice called. You looked over to see Sirius with a backpack. "Uncle Padfoot?" You said confused. You looked over at the moon. It wasn't full yet, so what was he-- You saw his backpack and instantly knew. "Brewing a Wolfsbane potion?" You asked. He sat down his bag with a nod, sitting next to you. "It's almost three in the morning, what are you still doing up?" He asked. "A lot on my mind." You muttered. "Is it the tournament? We got the letter you were in it." He asked. You shook your head. "Talk to me pup." He said. You hesitantly explained your situation and Sirius chuckled.

"James is going to hate this." He said. "I don't know what to do Padfoot. I feel like he's going to think I'm crazy-- I don't want to ruin our friendship but I think I just did!" You groaned into your hands. Sirius patted your back. "Y/n, you didn't ruin anything, if worst come to worse, play dumb." He teased. Your lack of laughter told him you were seriously conflicted. "Y/n... You may be young. But the possibility is not impossible, in fact it's very likely he feels the same." Sirius said. "How do you know that?" You asked. "Because when I visited you over the summer I also went to the Weasleys about three days after. I wanted Molly to know." He said. "When I showed up Fred was pestering me with so many questions. I let him know you were 'sick' and even then he was worried." Sirius said. "What if he doesn't feel the same Padfoot?" You asked. Sirius looked over at you. "What if he does?"

You ended up going back to the dorms. Breakfast that morning had a noticeable absence of you. You didn't show up for dinner either. Fred was now very much aware that you knew that he knew. Ginny hadn't seen you for the next few mornings, Hermione only saw you walking to classes but never in your dorm. In fact, if it weren't for the signs of you actually coming back to the dorms and Peeves confirming that he had seen you to the twins, everyone would've assumed you just left. Today though, there was no avoiding you. It was the day of the first challenge. Your mother, father and uncles were all waiting with you in the tent as the other champions were preparing. "You've got this Y/n." Sirius said. You nodded, putting on a pair of gloves. You wished Fred was here to calm your nerves but he wasn't. You were the one that drew the Horntail. That dragon did not like you, nor did it take to training like the others. This one was aggressive. Though, you knew exactly how to deal with that.

Harry hugged you. "You kick ass out there." He said. "Will do." you said. "Potter. You're up." You stepped out of the tent and James wrapped his arm around Lily who was clearly nervous for her daughter. You stepped out, the crowd roaring for you. You swallowed hard, seeing Fred sit up straight as he watched you. Fred mouthed "are you okay?" mouthed. "Kill. me." you mouthed back, earning a small smile. Then you heard it. The unsettling growl rang out and you drew your wand. Charlie stood in the tent, watching you. "Accio Ranger." you said sharply. "The hell is a ranger?" Peter asked James who was shrugging in response. A small tube flew to your hand and you stood guard. You side stepped near the golden egg and it lunged, you pressing a button on the side of the tube like object. A blade shot out of it earning a few gasps from the crowd.

"Come on Y/n... Do the thing." Charlie muttered. "There's more?" Remus asked. "Oh hell yes there's more. A ranger is used by dragon tamer's all the time." Charlie said. Harry turned back to you. The dragon roared in your face but you stood your ground, again pointing your wand at the sword. "Incendio." you said. Fire emitted from your wand, lighting the blade on fire. George gaped at the sight, you standing there waving the blade around. The dragon's eyes followed it as you crept over to the egg, grabbing it slowly. It geared up and you frowned. "Crap." You muttered. Flames shot out and you blocked it with your wand, pushing back with the blade and making the dragon retreat. "DOWN." You yelled. It seemed like you were scolding the creature. It roared in protest but you didn't budge. "STAY." you said. Again the creature grumbled but you began to walk back before the dragon decided to try to attack one last time. "LOOK OUT!" Fred yelled. You turned around quick enough to put out the fireball that shot towards you. You booked it back to the tent and Charlie high-fived you. "That's my girl! Kicking ass and taking names!" James said, lifting you into a hug. You laughed and Harry smiled.

There was the sound of the tent's curtain like entrance being shoved back before a rapid pair of footsteps and a hug for you. You pulled away to see Fred. "When that stupid thing shot that last fireball at you-- I-I thought--" "I'm okay Freddie, I promise." You said. He looked in your eyes and Lily blinked. James opened his mouth but Lily pulled him back. Fred didn't move and neither did you before he leaned down and kissed your forehead, hugging you again.

He walked you back to the common room, the Gryffindors cheering as you entered. "You did it, you crazy girl!" Dean laughed. You nodded, holding up the egg. "Oh oh! Open it!" Ginny said. You sat it on the table, twisting its top and opening the egg to hear a loud deafening screech. You closed it and everyone went silent. "What the bloody hell was that!?" Ron asked. "The egg!" You gaped. "Why the hell does the egg do that!?" George asked. A valid question that no one seemed to have the answer to.

You never sat down and addressed the forehead kiss with Fred but you definitely were closer. He was busy trying to crack the egg with you. "Miss Potter!" Mcgonagall called as you were sitting in the library with Fred and the egg. You walked over to her and she seemed excited. "have you found a partner for the ball yet?" she asked. "The... What?" you asked. Mcgonagall rose a brow. "The Yule ball. All Champions must participate in the opening dance miss Potter. I thought you were aware." She said. "I just battled a dragon and now I have to dance? This really is hell." You whined. "Might I suggest the boy who was with you all week this week?" Mcgonagall said. You turned around "I don't think--" And she was gone.

You sighed and sat back down. "What's got you beat? Do you need to fight another dragon?" Fred asked. "Apparently I need a date to the Yule." You sighed. "It's not enough that I'm risking my life for the damn cup but now I have to suffer at a dance." You muttered. Fred looked over, a small blush rising to his cheeks. "I could... Be your date." he muttered. You looked over. "What was that?" You asked. "I could uhm... Be your date... If you want." He said. You nodded slowly. "Yeah.. That uhm... That would be nice." you replied, cheeks warm and slowly turning red.

You excused yourself and went to the common room. Ginny and Hermione looked over as you walked in like you had seen something indescribable. "Y/n? Are you alright?" Ginny asked. "He asked me to the ball." you muttered. "who?" Hermione asked. "Fred." You said. Both girls gaped. "HE DID WHAT!?" They asked in unison. Fred walked in and George emerged from the dorms. "You good Y/n?" George asked. "Yep. I'm uhm... I'm great actually." You said, looking over at Fred. Fred couldn't help but smile and you smiled back. "We've got to talk dresses. Now!" Hermione said. "What?" You asked, halfway listening to her. "Oh and heels!" Ginny added. "Wait what-- OW! MY ARM IS ATTACHED TO MY BODY YOU GUYS!" You whined as the girls dragged you off. "What was that about?" George asked. "I asked Y/n the ball." Fred said. George blinked. "You fucking did it!" he exclaimed, clearly excited. "Yeah. Yeah I did-- Does the air feel thin to you?" Fred asked. George snorted. "That's just your nerves Freddie. Come on, I need help with the orders." George said. Fred nodded and went upstairs into the dorms.

As the week pushed on, dance courses were now mandatory. Fred noticed your less than enthusiastic response to having to learn this type of etiquette. "Sorry!" You sighed as you yet again stepped on Fred's foot. "Y/n, I already said it's okay." He said softly. "I know I just... I feel ridiculous. At least Harry wasn't born with Dad's two left feet. I unfortunately did." you muttered. "Well on the bright side you got your mother's good eye sight." He said. "That's true. And I got my dad's sense of humor." You nodded earning a smile from Fred. "Try to relax Y/n. It's just me." Fred said. "That's what makes me kind of nervous Fred." you said in a flat tone. He chuckled and pulled you slightly closer. "Come now, I don't bite Potter." He teased. Your face was red as you danced and Fred couldn't help but smile. "I don't think we ever talked about us." He said. Oh god. "I figured we were going to ignore it..." You muttered. "Look, Fred I don't want you to feel obligated to like me. Hell, I don't want you to feel like you have to be near me if you don't want to be. I think we have a good friendship and I don't want to fuck that up." you explained. "Gotten it off your chest yet?" He asked. "Yes." you nodded. "I like you Y/n. You're smart, you're funny, you've got a good head on your shoulders, you're beautiful and your badass." He began. "But." you said, awaiting something else. "There is no but. I like you. I don't want you to push yourself to be in something you might not be ready for." He said. "... You're not worried about the age difference?" You asked. "There's a three year difference. That's not exactly your uncle and his girlfriend." Fred said. You nodded in agreement. "Tonks is pretty young. Really sweet though-- how do you know about Tonks?" you asked. "She works as an Auror for the ministry." He said. 

“Ten points to Gryffindor for the wonderful dancing of Mister Weasley and Miss Potter!” Mcgonagall announced, making you aware of the class. You swallowed hard. “Can we take a walk?” You asked Fred. He nodded, walking out with the rest of the students as they were dismissed. You ended up talking more, walking around the grounds with Fred. By the end of it Fred’s hand was intertwined with yours and he was whispering in your ear at how happy he was to be with you. 

He dropped you off at the common room, smiling like a moron as he left and you were grinning ear to ear. “What’s with you?” “Yeah, you look like Dobby when he got socks from Harry.” Hermione said making you laugh. “I’m dating Fred.” you said. Tea shot out of Ginny’s mouth, extinguishing the small flame in the fire place. “He actually-- Wow! He seemed so unsure at first I..” She said. “I don’t know, I guess he decided to commit.” You said. “Have you written to your mum about a dress yet? Or are we going to Hogsmeade for one?” Hermione asked. You grimaced. “Oh come on Y/n--” “Uhm... Excuse me.” A voice said.

You turned to see Viktor Krum. “I was wondering if I could speak with Her...Mione? Is that right?” He asked. “You said it right.” You nodded. “Sure?” Hermione said, walking away with him. “Wonder what that’s about.” Ginny said. “He’s asking her to the Yule.” You said. “What?!” Ginny asked. “He asked me if she’d be interested before the first trial.” You said. “Also, you’re going to get a date soon.” you said, sitting on the couch. “What? Who?” Ginny asked. “You’ll see.” you said with a smile. “Y/nnn!” Ginny whined. “You will see!” you laughed. 

Well within the week Ginny was asked by Neville Longbottom. She was surprised but found friendship in the guy so she said yes. Your mother also sent you a dress. A very beautiful dress that nearly made the girls pass out from excitement. Tonight was the night though, Fred constantly readjusting his tie out of nervousness. Ginny came down the stairs with Neville. “She looks amazing Fred, really.” She told him. “She always does.” Fred said. “Oh you should see Hermione, she looks so pretty.” A girl with blonde hair said. Hermione soon came down, taking Viktor’s hand with a smile. And then it was you. You walked down the steps and Fred froze. 

Your hair was pulled back, you smiling as you saw Fred. “Merlin’s beard you’re beautiful.” He gaped. “Can you do me a favor?” You asked. He nodded. “Don’t. Let. Me. Fall.” You said. He nodded and you took his hand, standing with the rest of the champions. Fred was surprised when you started speaking Russian with Viktor. He seemed amused by whatever you were discussing, laughing on occasion. 

The doors eventually opened and you walked forward, your names being announced. The opening dance commenced and you were surprised to find yourself not tripping over air as you gracefully moved. Fred was so focused on you that you found yourself getting lost in his eyes. You smiled, as did he, telling you sweet little compliments. You were smiling, looking at your friends who were also dancing with their partners. Harry smiled, watching his little sister. Did he necessarily approve? No, but at least you were happy. 

As the evening continued, you and Fred were laughing and dancing. When that tired you out you were sitting in the hall with food, talking on the stairs. “So then he proceeded to ski out the door.” You laughed. “What did your mum do!?” Fred asked. “Didn’t let him back inside till about four in the morning because dad started singing ‘I will always love you’ and our neighbors were beginning to complain.” You laughed. Fred chuckled. “This is the most fun I’ve had outside of hanging out with George.” He said. “I’m having fun too.” you said with smile. He brushed hair out of your eyes, smiling at you. “I think I... Really want to kiss you.” He muttered. “I think I really want you to kiss me.” you muttered. He pressed a kiss to your lips. 

He and you ended up parting ways around midnight, you having this smile on your face. Around three in the morning though, you were awoken by someone. “Ginny?” You asked groggily. “Charlie wants to talk to you.” Ginny yawned. You walked downstairs to see Charlie, Percy, Mcgonagall and Bill all standing there. “Y/n, good you’re here.” Percy said. “Do the boys know you’re here or is it just me and Ginny?” You asked. “They don’t know, sit please.” Percy said. “Hold it Percy. She’s never met Bill before and I’ve heard an interesting update that I must talk about.” Charlie halted. Bill extended his hand and you shook it. “I have met him before. Not like this though.” You said. “What’s this about you dating my brother?” Bill asked, a small smirk. “Oh, uhm--” “Mister Weasley I must ask that we stay. on. task.” Mcgonagall said. “Minnie you’re no fun!” Charlie whined. “There are more pressing matters at hand.” She said. “Fine.” He huffed. 

“Percy, you tell her.” Bill said. “I suspect you remember Fenrir Greyback.” He said. “The bastard that almost killed me? Yeah, I remember.” You said flatly. “We believe he’s somewhere on campus.” Charlie said. “What? Why?” You asked. “We think he’s after you. You almost led to his arrest, you testified in court, you have a lot pointing against him. From now on Bill is going to be escorting you from classes, you will not be alone.” Percy explained. “What about the competition?” You asked. “We’re surprised you even want to be in it after what we’ve explained.” Mcgonagall said. “No offense to you, truly. But I did not learn to friggin waltz for nothing. I am going to be in this until it’s done.” you said. “That puts you even more at a risk Y/n.” Percy said. “I. Don’t. Care.” you said. “Miss Potter, they present--” “If he wants me, he can work his way to me. Until then I’ll accept Bill’s help but I am not stopping my own life because someone wants to take it.” you said. 

The group all stared but nodded in agreement. “I can respect that.” Bill said. “While I disagree with your methods, we can’t refuse them. So for now we’ll support you.” Percy said. “Now can we drop the sad stuff and gossip?” Charlie asked. “I think it’s best if Miss Potter went off to bed.” Mcgonagall said. “Uggghh.” Charlie whined as you shook your head and went back to the dorms. “I’ll let you know.” Bill said to Charlie. “Godsend. You. Are. A. Godsend.” 

No one in the group knew what happened. All they knew was that Bill was suddenly there. After a few days they got used to it. Today, you had three days to figure out the purpose of the egg. It sat on the Great Hall table, all of you staring at it. “Have you solved the next trial? I can’t figure it out..” Viktor asked, his arm around Hermione. Ron seemed to grit his teeth at the sight, keeping an angry silence over him.“No. Can’t seem to figure it out, all the fucking egg does is scream. Why would it make noise if it was just...” You paused. “What?” Fred asked. “It makes noise because it has another purpose.” You said. “I need to muffle the sound!” you said, snapping your fingers in realization. “I love it when she has good ideas.” Fred chuckled, George rolling his eyes. Bill smiled as you kissed Fred, walking to the bathroom. 

“You don’t need to follow Bill.” You sighed as you walked towards the baths. “You know the rules.” He said. “My god you ministry workers love your rules don’t you.” you sighed. You walked into the baths, Bill standing outside the door. “Oh now you draw the line.” you said with an eyeroll. “I assume you’re there to take a bath.” he said. “Nope. Puzzle solving.” You said. Bill blinked. “What?” “Well come and find out dude.” you laughed. You turned on the water, taking off your shoes. “What are you--” You put the egg on the edge of the tub, walking in. “You’re getting wet!” Bill said. “No! You don’t say!” You said sarcastically before putting the egg under the water. “Y/n I don’t think--” you went under, uniform and all. “Y/n!” Bill sighed, running a hand over his face. 

It wasn’t long before you popped back up. “I’ve got it! The next trial is at the black lake!” You said. “I’m also going to need something for breathing underwater.” you added. “Y/n, have you lost your mind?” Bill asked. “Have you met my father?” you asked. Bill went silent, opening his mouth before closing it. “... Fair point.” He nodded. You went back to the dorms, changing uniforms and walking back out. “Your hair is still wet--” “Do I look like I care?” you asked. “I’m beginning to see why Fred is dating you.” Bill sighed, following you to the library. “Have you told any of your friends? About... Him?” Bill asked. “Only Fred knows. If my brother found out he’d lose his shit.” you said. You walked into the library, Viktor looking up. “and?” He asked. You sat down, whispering to him. Bill sighed, looking around at the familiar place. He recalled a time where he would come here to avoid his dragon obsessed brother. A blonde girl walked past him in the powder blue uniform. 

He blinked a few times, clearing his throat as he looked at her. “Hey, Fleur!” you called. She turned around, Bill’s heart pounding in his chest. “Come here for a second.” you said. She walked over, you telling her. “why are you telling her?” Viktor asked. “we all deserve an equal playing ground Krum. At least this way we’re somewhat equal” you said. He sighed but nodded. “What did we lose?” Fleur asked. “That’s what I can’t figure out.” you admitted. “We’ll find out then I guess.” Krum shrugged. You looked over at Bill who looked like he was frozen. “Bill, you good?” You asked. “What? Oh I’m fine.” he coughed. You noticed his sights on Fleur and resisted a snort, shaking your head and turning back to the conversation. 

You never had a clear cut answer for what was “lost” or how to breathe underwater. Not until the say of the trial. You stood on the docks, Fred nowhere to be found. “George, where’s Fred?” you asked. “Yeah I want to meet my daughter’s boyfriend.” Lily said, making your cheeks flush. George furrowed his brow. “I thought he was with you?” He said. “No--” “Has anyone seen Hermione?” Viktor asked. You frowned, looking over at Fleur who was looking for your sister. Your heart dropped, Sirius walking over. “Found you some Gillyweed pup. You can breathe underwater-- are you alright?” Sirius asked. “I know what the trial is.” you breathed, George looking confused until he realized what you were saying. “Oh. My. God.” George gasped. “What’s going on?” James asked. 

“Champions at the ready.” Dumbledore announced. “Pup, take the Gillyweed. It’ll help you breathe underwater.” Sirius said. You nodded, downing it before standing with the contestants. “GO!” 

Your body collided with the water, gills growing on you as you swam. You swam through the lake, seeing the creatures around you with wide eyes. You had seen this before, but it was less fun when you were shoved in. That’s when you remembered. Oh shit. Mermaids. 

You swam deep into the water, cautious to avoid the wrath of the creatures before finding the students. Hermione, Fleur’s sister Gabrielle and Fred all tied. Viktor looked over, grabbing Hermione and exiting the water before you freed Fred. You looked around for Fleur but found nothing. Someone had to get Gabrielle. You swam over, a trident aimed at your throat. You used a charm to keep them back before grabbing both of them and swimming. 

Viktor came out of the water. “Oi, Rasputin.” Sirius called. “That’s not my name--” “Yeah, I don’t care, where is Y/n?” Sirius asked. “She was getting the Weasley boy last I saw.” He said. Bill frowned. “They put my brother in the water-- what the hell is this thing?” Bill asked. “Where have you been all morning?” George asked. “Talking to Minerva. Y/n was with the school as a whole so I was okay to not be with her.” Bill said. “You’ve been watching Y/n? Why?” George asked. “Uhm--” Fleur came back up empty handed and Lily looked at James. “We both know why this is taking a long time” She muttered. “She’s strong Lily, you know that.” Remus said. Fred came up, gasping for air and pulling Gabrielle up. “Where’s Y/n?” Fred asked. “She’s not down there with you?” George asked, pulling Gabrielle out and extending his hand to his brother. “I don’t--” Your head shot out of the water.

 “SWIM NOW!” you said, shoving Fred. Fred took George’s hand before he pulled him out of the water. George extended his hand to you and you reached for it before being pulled under by something. Sirius frowned. “James, you remember what’s down there.” Sirius said. Peter frowned and answered before James. “Mermaids.” he said. You shot back out, climbing out of the water yourself. “I HATE THIS BLOODY LAKE!” you said. Fred hugged you, brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you alright?” He asked. “I’m fine! I’m fine. Still hate mermaids as much as I did my first year but I’m fine” you breathed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and Lily ran over. “Oh darling, you had me worried sick!” she breathed. “Mum I’m fine--” Sirius lifted you into a hug and you seemed to be lacking air. “Can’t. Breathe.” you gasped. “Oh shit-- sorry Pup!” He said letting go. “You saved my sister-- thank you!” Fleur said, hugging you. “There is a whole lot of hugging going around.” You chuckled, hugging Fleur back.

You all sat in the common room, James, Remus, Peter and Sirius asking a ton of questions to Fred. “so why my daughter?” “If you hurt her we will kill you.” “How well do you do in school?” “Guys would you chill out!?” You said. “We’re just curious.” James said. “Oh shut it dad, we all know you want to wring his neck.” you said with an eyeroll. Bill chuckled and you sighed. “So are you going to explain why Bill has been with us or are you keeping us in the dark along with everything else?” Harry asked. “It’s confidential.” you and Bill said in unison. “My god, I believe we have a future ministry worker on our hands.” Sirius said making James snort. You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to bed.” you said. “Get ready for next week and kick some ass!” James said. “Mister Potter, watch your mouth.” Mcgonagall said. “MINNIE!” Remus, James, Peter and Sirius all exclaimed as you left.  

As the week carried on you felt like you were being watched. More so than usual. You kept it to yourself, knowing damn well if you voiced your discomfort to Bill, he would be on high alert and NEVER leave you alone. Fred noticed your attention seemed to be elsewhere though and suspected something was wrong as you would be looking over your shoulder every few moments. You didn’t realize your suspicions were correct.

There you stood in the stadium, the maze entrance intimidating as you looked at it with wide eyes. Fred walked over. “Good luck Princess.” he said. You kissed him, him smiling. You turned back to the made with a small frown. “Nervous?” he asked. “No I just... I’ve got a bad feeling.” You said. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Fred asked. “I’ll be okay Freddie.” You said. “Alright. Kick some ass babe.” He said. You laughed and turned back to the maze. 

“On your marks!” 

You readied up. 

“Get set!” 

Your focus was on the maze and for a second you swore you saw someone walk through it. 

“GO!” 

You raced through the maze, the feeling of being watched amplifying as you moved. You swore there was someone following you. You heard a scream in the maze. “FLEUR!?” you called. Silence. Something was wrong. What it was, you didn’t know but something was wrong. “Viktor!? Can you hear me!?” You called. Silence. Shit. “Yes! I’m here!” He said. You moved around a corner. “Thank god” you breathed, “The maze moves.” he said. “What?” you asked before noticing a vine slither towards Viktor’s leg. You used a spell to block it. “We’ve got to move.” You said. “We can’t both win Y/n.” he said. “you can win, I don’t care we need to move.” you breathed. He shook his head. “I don’t need to win, you--” “We can argue when we see the cup right now we need to--” you saw a figure behind Krum and your heart dropped. 

Fenrir Greyback.

You backed up and he moved closer. “VIKTOR RUN!” you screamed. Both of you took off, running through the maze before you both accidentally separated. You saw the glint of light, running towards it before you were stopped. Fenrir had stepped in front of you, a malicious smirk falling across his face. Viktor came from the other area and froze. “Viktor run!” You said. “Stupify--” Fenrir dodged, giving you enough time to run and grab Viktor’s hand. “What do we do?” He asked. “When we reach for the cup, he will too.” You muttered. “We don’t have a choice.” He muttered. You swallowed hard and Viktor shook his head. “That cup is the only way back unless...” He turned around to see the ways closing. Viktor looked at you and then backed up. “Viktor what are you--” “Use the cup!” He said before getting grabbed by the vines. 

You swallowed hard, Fenrir lunged, tackling you and knocking over the cup. His hand raised, prepared to claw you as you yelled “ACCIO” and the cup hit your hands as his claws ripped your skin. Blood seeped through your shirt, him biting you as the location changed.  

 A bloodcurdling scream emitted from you as you hit the ground, Bill sprinting forward and knocking him back. Fred stood up, eyes wide as his girlfriend seemed to struggle for her own life. Percy emerged from a nearby tent, binding Fenrir. “You’re too late Weasley.” He spat. You coughed up blood, your parents, uncles, brother and boyfriend all running down to you. “Even if she survives she’ll be stuck with the same affliction as me.” He laughed. Remus had fear coursing through him as he looked at you and then Fenrir. “Just like her Uncle.” He added. “You Son of a--” you coughed again, head in Fred’s lap. “Stay with us princess.” Fred begged. “I-I’m sorry.” You whispered. “MEDIC!” James yelled. “I’m so sorry--” “shhh baby, you’re going to be fine” Lily hushed. “GOD DAMN IT WE NEED A MEDIC!” James yelled. Madame Pomfrey ran over with a stretcher, lifting you up. “Parents only.” She halted the group. “That’s my sister you--” “Harry, calm down we have to trust they know what they’re doing.” Sirius said. 

George, Ron, Ginny and Hermione all ran down, standing with them. “She’ll never make it.” Fenrir said as Bill carried him off. “They never do.” 

Thirteen hours. No one had heard anything for hours. Viktor sat with your friends, bringing them whatever they needed, water, food. Molly and Arthur both came in as well, praying that you would make it. Charlie sat in the hall with them outside of the medical wing, Fred pacing back and forth. “She will make it Fred.” George said. “What if she doesn’t?” Fred asked. “She will.” Remus said. “But what if she doesn’t!?” Fred asked again. “Y/n needs us. She needs you to have faith that she will make it Freddie.” Molly said. He put his face in his hands. “I can’t lose her mum-- I can’t” He whimpered. She hugged her son, the door opening. Everyone stood up.

 “She’s alright.” James said. Relief instantly washed over the group. “It’s a miracle. Honestly. She didn’t even take to lycanthropy.” Pomfrey said, walking out. Blood was on her apron, bad sign but considering the adults outside of Pomfrey said you were okay, they didn’t think much of it. “Come on in you guys.” James said. Fred was the first through the door, seeing you wincing. “Ow-- Mum bandages don’t get any tighter--” “I’m trying to make sure they won’t fall off!” She huffed. Fred came into your line of view, your face softening at the sight. Lily sighed, taking a step back to allow Fred to get to you. He kneeled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You looked at him, smiling softly. “Fred I wanted to tell you that I love you. So much. Even though it’s been a short while since we’ve started dating... I knew that when I woke up I had to tell you.” you said softly. He smiled. “I love you too Princess.” He said.

Sounds of sobbing came from your dad. “It-- IT’S JUST SO PURE LILY! I WANNA HATE HIM SO BAD!” He whined. “James calm down--” “THEY ARE JUST LIKE US!” He cried into his wife’s shoulder as she dragged him out of the room. Harry shook his head. “Harry I’m so sorry I never told you anything. I just--” “Y/n, it’s okay. I know I overreact. I get it from the moron standing in the hall.” He said. Sirius chuckled. “I’m glad that... you aren’t..” Remus halted. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He said.  “Moony... I want to say I’m so sorry for all of this. I know this had to have been hell for you to sit through.” You said. “It wasn’t easy. But it helped that you kept fighting.” He said. “And I’ve made a decision.” you said. “and what’s that pup?” Sirius asked. “I’m no longer studying dragons.” You said. “What? But you’re good at it!” Charlie whined. “Relax Charlie, I’ll still work next to you and your crazy beasts. I’m saying I’m not just specializing with dragons. I’m going to study werewolves.” You said. “WHAT!?” Everyone asked. 

“I want there to be a way for the afflicted to live an easier life. I know for a fact that I’m not the only victim, and I came out with the luckiest outcome.” you said. Remus blinked. “There’s no telling the exact numbers that came from that asshole but I want a way to help those with no choice. By studying to be a ‘beastmaster’ in school I can still pursue dragons and I can help werewolves.” you said. Sirius looked over at Remus who was both shocked and crying at your decision. “Not you too Moony.” Sirius chuckled. “She has such a good heart.” He said with a smile, wiping away the tears. “We brought you something dear. We didn’t get to give it to you at Christmas.” Molly said.

She stepped forward and handed you a small wrapped present. It was a Weasley sweater. “You’ll always have a place in our family.” She said. “Regardless of you dating Fred or not.” Arthur added.

It was a slow recovery but it ended up fine in the end as your third year came to a close. The Triwizard cup rested in a glass cabinet with quidditch trophies. Then Cornelius gave you the check for the prize money. “And we will make it out to--” “Fred or George Weasley.” You said. He looked up. “Excuse me?” Fudge asked. “Make it out to Fred or George Weasley.” you repeated. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Yep.” You nodded. After making a comment on being insane he did just as you asked.

Students wished you well over the summer all while saying goodbye to the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students. Viktor said goodbye to Hermione, looking over at you. You walked over. “Viktor I just want to say-” “It was nothing Potter. I’m glad you’re okay.” He said. You both smiled, hugging each other goodbye. “kick some ass out there Krum.” you said. “Stay wild Rider.” He said, walking away. Fred walked over. “Think you’ll miss him?” He asked. “Yeah. But I’ve got you.” You said with a smile. He smiled and you gasped. “Wait! I need to talk to you and George!” you gasped. “Oookay?” Fred said confused before you took his hand, running off. 

You found George talking to Angelina. “George! I’ve gotta talk to you!” You said. You sat both of the boys down. “What’s this about?” George asked. You handed George the check. George said nothing, grabbing Fred’s arm as he read the check. “What?” Fred asked. “You’re actually giving us the money!?” George asked. “What!?” Fred asked, gaping at the sight. “Think of it as a business investment.” You said. “Darling this is enough to buy the business!” Fred said. “Oorrr to buy you guys a building after you graduate.” you suggested. “Or-- Oh my god you sneaky little minx!” George gaped. “We knew you wanted to give it to us we just figured maybe you’d give it to Krum or something.” Fred said. “Krum is a world renowned quidditch player. I think he he’s good on money you guys.” you laughed. 

Fred hugged you, as did George. “Y/n!” Charlie called. “Another apprenticeship?” George asked. “This time in Germany.” you said with a smile. “Have fun.” Fred said, kissing you. “I’m coming back next month on the sixth, mark your calendar.” you said with a smile. Fred nodded. “Y/n! Come on!!!” Charlie said. “Bye!” You said hugging the two boys one last time before running off with Charlie. George looked over at Fred who was watching you with a loving smile.

 “You better marry that girl one day Fred. We gotta lock her in somehow and make her a Weasley.” George laughed. “Oh trust me. One day I will.” Fred said. “God, think of all the things in the business we could buy with this.” George said. “Oh we need more Amortentia.” Fred said. “We can get the ingredients. Oh! we could sell liquid luck!” George said. “We can finally experiment with the Pigmy puffs!” George added, Fred walking with a smile. George started listing off all of the possibilities as they walked to the train station, ready to start their new futures. 

The future was so bright, and strangely, it was just beginning.

Taglist: @amhyeah @newtaholic-staygold @bbeauttyybbx @fleurho @yodeadxss @mariah-can-dream

[handeaux]

Cincinnatians Thronged The Train Station When Owney The Mail Dog Came To Town

Over the years, a long list of celebrities visited Cincinnati, everyone from Oscar Wilde to Lily Langtry and the Marquis de Lafayette, but few caused a sensation equal to a scruffy “tramp dog” known as Owney.

No one knows how Owney came into this world. His apparently tangled pedigree is a mystery. All we know is he showed up one day in the post office at Albany, New York. The mail clerks shared their lunches with the little mutt and he found the mail sacks quite satisfactory for bedding down, so Owney hung around. According to the Cincinnati Enquirer [23 March 1893], one of the clerks took Owney on a New York Central mail run:

“That settled it. The fast run just suited him, and since then he has been on the go from one end of the United States to the other. He disdains coaches and Pullman sleepers, and will ride in nothing but mail cars. There he is at home. His bed is under the counter, and during the day his favorite pastime is at the door with his paws braced upon the sides, viewing the country. If the landscape suits, Owney remains in this position for hours. If it doesn’t come up to his standard he turns in disgust and lies down out of the way of the working clerks.”

Mail clerks noticed that no train carrying Owney was ever in a wreck, so they began to think of the pooch as a good-luck charm. In addition, Owney fiercely defended the mail sacks and would let no one except a mail clerk get anywhere near.

Although always returning to Albany, Owney hopped outbound mail trains continually. The Albany clerks asked their colleagues around the country to report in whenever Owney showed up and thus began a tradition of hanging a medal on the dog’s collar as a souvenir of his travels. It got to the point where so many medals graced his leather strap that Owney could barely lift his head, so the United States Postmaster General, John Wanamaker himself, gave Owney a sort of cape on which to display his medals. Even so, the cape got so overloaded with additional medals that the Albany clerks removed and saved most of them each time he reappeared in upstate New York.

That tradition was upheld every time Owney passed through Cincinnati. In 1893, Enquirer publisher John McLean clipped a solid silver tag onto Owney’s cape and the newspaper reported Owney’s journeys almost daily for the next couple of weeks. A month after leaving Cincinnati, Owney was in San Francisco, heading toward Mexico:

“He is said to be an expert train jumper and has frequently displayed this skill by leaping into the mail car after the train has started. Among the several dozen medals which dangle from Owney’s neck is one engraved as follows: ‘Cincinnati Enquirer, J.L. McLean.’ Before the dog’s departure for Mexico last night the local Post Office clerks had engraved a silver medal which was added to the already large list now belonging to the dog.”

Somehow, Owney made it back from Mexico and arrived in Chicago in time to be displayed at the World’s Columbian Exposition (also known as the Chicago World’s Fair) in the U.S. Postal Service pavilion.

It was another year before Owney made it back to Cincinnati, just passing through on his way southward. Word quickly got around and hundreds of Cincinnati fans crowded the station where Owney held court from his mail car. The Enquirer [19 July 1894] noted that the little dog had put on a few pounds, apparently not able or willing to turn down a handout. His cantankerous nature was on full display:

“He will not permit any familiarity with any one now, except railway mail clerks, and as he stood in the door of an L and N mail car in the Grand Central Station last night he took delight in growling at all passers-by who stopped to look at him.”

A month later, after a jaunt through Tennessee, St. Louis and San Francisco, Owney was back in Cincinnati, a guest at the Grand Hotel as the featured guest for the annual convention of Railway Clerks. While attending the convention, Owney joined 850 clerks at the Grand Theater for a performance of Gus Heege’s farcical comedy, “Rush City.” Owney made a guest appearance and got a good review from the Enquirer [7 September 1894]:

“‘Owney,’ the famous postal dog, appeared in the second act, and from all parts of the house arose calls for this pet of the brave boys who assort the mails. ‘Owney’ advanced to the footlights as he recognized his friends, and, wagging his stump of a tail, gazed at the crowd as cool as an old veteran behind the footlights.”

While in town, the Cincinnati [31 August 1894] Post interviewed the celebrity tramp (through a translator, of course) and reported that he seemed to be enjoying his visit to the Queen City:

“Seen by a Post reporter, Owney’s bow-wows were interpreted by an admiring friend to be a statement that he was glad to have a few days in Cincinnati, where he could be well fed and meet all the old boys with whom he has been on familiar terms these many years.”

Before leaving Cincinnati, Owney stopped by a meeting of the Teachers Institute where, after a morning full of discussion concerning curricular innovation, the assembled educators added their own medal to the array on Owney’s cloak.

Owney left Cincinnati for the longest trek of his life. From Tacoma, Washington he boarded a ship in 1895 headed to Japan, where he was received like royalty and sent along to China, across Asia and through Europe before landing back in the States. He made his way across the country, arriving in Tacoma 132 days after he had departed.

In later years, Owney’s temper shortened as his eyesight gradually failed. Mail clerks still coddled and protected the little mutt, but he kept wandering off. In Toledo, one day in 1897, he bit the wrong person and was put to death. The mail clerks had him taxidermied and he sits on display today at the Smithsonian National Postal Museum, where all of his 1,017 medals are preserved in the collections. Owney was honored with a commemorative postal stamp in 2011.

[too-attached-to-fiction]

leave a message | r. l.

Masterlist here.

Part 2

Word count: 1130

Requested: no

Summary: Modern!Non-magic!au where reader calls Lupin sometimes to hear his voice after they break up after a few years of being together.

A/N: I got emotional over the 36 questions musical podcast, especially the song Question 36, and realized that this really fit with Remus and it’s mostly angst with a fluffy ending :) song can be found here.

~~~

“Hey Remus, it’s me. (Y/N). I miss you. A lot. Could we meet up for coffee? I think I need the closure.” 

~~~

“Hi. It’s me again. I saw a wolf figurine in one of those little shops down Picadilly Circuit.. You know, that stationary store that I loved to visit? The one I always dragged you to but you were the one that always begged not to leave? I haven’t been there in a while, but I went today. The owner saw me looking at the figurine and she looked at me with a sad smile. God, even she knows we’ve broken up. Or maybe I’m just acting that mopey. I think I stared at it for five minutes before she snapped me out of it. I know I said this last time, but I miss you. It sounds stupid but I call to hear your voice from the voicemail box, even though it’s the same every time. And I wish just once, you’d pick up.” 

~~~

“Hey. It’s (Y/N). I’m coming back from the postal office empty handed. I just dropped off a box of your stuff, and I’m sending it to James and Lily. I don’t know where you’re staying, and I don’t think you want me to know. But everything’s in that box. Most of the photos we took, all of your shirts and sweats and underwear and… God, I’m crying again, fuck-” 

~~~

“It’s midnight, and I’m definitely tipsy. I told myself I wouldn’t call you anymore, but it’s New Years, and I should be out with friends, but I’m alone. Remember last new years when we were with everyone? Frank, Alice, Sirius, Peter, James and Lily? Frank and Alice are kind enough to still stick around, but they’re busy preparing for the baby. They said James and Lily are having one, too. We talked about that all the time, remember? We’d be lying in bed, and one of us would mention it, and you always said you’d be an awful father and I always said that you’d be wonderful because I never thought any kid of ours would hate you. Even after all this, I still don’t hate you. This time last year, you pulled me under a spare sprig of mistletoe right before the clock struck 12, inside when everyone was on the roof, waiting for the fireworks. But we’re not with each other anymore, and that fucking sucks.” 

~~~

“One month in and I’m breaking my new years resolution by calling you. But it’s been a while and I felt like hearing your voice, so, sue me, I guess. You still haven’t changed your voicemail message, and I can still hear it, so maybe you’re keeping these voicemails, and you definitely haven’t blocked my number. So, uh… Thanks. For keeping it open. Okay, this is weird. Let me just-” 

~~~

“Wooh. Okay. It’s March 20th, our anniversary, and I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), don’t know how to get over you. It’s been three months, which isn’t much recovery time, but Alice says I need to stop moping. I’m clearly moving forward, but I feel like I’m fighting every step of the way. But I’m going to keep going. I’m putting one foot in front of the other. In case you haven’t noticed, this will be my last message, hopefully. I need to stop looking at what we were because I can’t go back. And, um, wow. I think I feel better just saying that I’m going to stop looking back. It’s weird, but I feel lighter. 

“I’m going to travel for a bit, see where my feet take me. I think I need time away from England, and maybe the distance will help with, you know. Everything. 

“But if you’re listening… Just in case…

“I love you. I think I always will.” 

~~~

Remus looked at his phone, noting that another voicemail message from (Y/N) had appeared in his notifications. He frowned, staring at the notification for a few minutes. 

“It was your anniversary today, wasn’t it?” Lily, who was four months along, looked at Remus with a sad, understanding expression on her face. “Another voicemail?” 

“Yeah.” Remus croaked out. Lily moved to sit next to the man, who was still staring at the phone in his hands. 

“You two never talked after the fight, did you?” She placed a hand on his shoulder as he shook his head. 

“How could I, Lils? I couldn’t bear looking at her in pain, knowing that I was the one who did that. She deserves someone who isn’t going to hurt her all the time.” Lily’s lips tugged into a frown, but she didn’t say anything as she rubbed her hand up and down his back. 

“I think you should listen to the voicemails.” Lily suggested quietly. “You don’t have to if you really don’t want to, but I think it could be good for you. Closure, and everything.” 

“You know it doesn’t work like that. I don’t care if she wants me back, she doesn’t deserve me.” Remus sighed as Lily stood up. 

“It doesn’t matter if she deserves you or not. She still wants you.” 

Remus trudged upstairs, finally opening his phone and pressing his voicemail box. 

He hoped Lily was right.

~~~

“If you’re listening… Just in case… I love you. I think I always will.” 

Remus closed his eyes. The line repeated in his head over and over, her voice still the same way he remembered it to be. 

Could they start over? After everything they’d put each other through, could they really start over and pretend nothing ever happened? 

He pressed the call button before his brain had the chance to think it over. He hoped she would pick up… 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, (Y/N).” 

“Remus?” 

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I-” 

“I’m at the airport already. My flight’s boarding as we speak.” 

Remus felt his throat tighten. “Where are you going?” 

“I was planning on going to Japan for a while, actually. Nothing’s actually stopping me from going right now, you know?” 

“I want to talk to you. In person.” 

“Remus, that’s sweet, but-” 

“I’ll meet you over there.” 

“At the airport? We’re leaving in half an hour-” 

“No. Japan.” 

He heard a sniffle on the other side of the line. “You’re serious?” 

“I’m Remus.” He joked weakly, hearing her chuckle softly. “I’ll join you, in a few days. Can you let me know where you’re staying?” 

“What if this doesn’t go according to your plans?” You asked. “It’s really expensive and I’d hate for you to go all the way out there just to-” 

“You said you love me, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then that’s all I need. Listen, send me the name of your hotel, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Of Poetry and Valentines

I’ve decided that even though I may not participate in every day of @ineffablehusbandsweek I might as well at least write a story for prompt #1.

1. Valentine’s Day -- (3,400 words)

Chocolate Love-A Cake.

Million Heart Cheesecake.

Mint-To-Be Chocolate Candies.

Some sort of cupcake simply titled Heart of the Batter.

Crowley had been standing in Aziraphale’s favorite bakery for over forty-five minutes. He’d stopped even trying to hold up the queue, which now simply flowed around him

Even the pastries without disgustingly twee names were covered in little frosting hearts and other nonsense. Not to mention all that pink.

“Are you ready to order yet?” asked the girl behind the till, handing yet another customer an absurdly elaborate confection that represented exactly six pounds and thirteen pence worth of I love you.

“Nh,” Crowley said, glancing at the coffee list. The flavors of the month started with Cupid Cappuccino and it went downhill fast from there. “Euh.”

“I’ll give you five more minutes,” she said, with far more chirpy good cheer than was strictly necessary.

--

The streets of Soho had been transformed. Paper hearts and cupids in every window; massive displays of roses, orchids, tulips and lilies spilled out in front of every shop, regardless of what they sold; even the nearest pub was covered in bright pink garlands and little red fairy lights.

Did no one in this district have even an ounce of self-respect?

Crowley stepped up to the Bentley and groaned. Someone had tied a red heart balloon to the wing mirror of every car on the street. Someone else had stuck little pink animal and flower shapes all over the windscreens.

The Bentley now sported a paper rabbit with Some bunny loves you! scrawled across it, as well as a large paper flower reading:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Here’s a Valentine

Just for you!

He pulled them both off and shredded them to confetti, yet all the tiny pieces still managed to look like little hearts. The balloon he transformed into a pink-and-red football and kicked it as far down the street as he could.

Crowley slammed the door of the Bentley as he climbed in, and angrily shoved one of his favorite Wagner CDs into the player. Of course, what emerged was not the prelude to Das Rheingold but Queen’s “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”

He slapped the radio off and glared at the dashboard. “Cut that out. I swear to Someone, if you even try and pull that on me today…”

Leaving the threat to hang in the air, he turned the radio back on and skipped to the second song, which was now “March of the Black Queen.”

“Better,” he muttered, and pulled away from the kerb.

--

Aziraphale had never taken to Valentine’s Day, no more than any other saint’s feast day, in any case. He hadn’t commented at all when, almost six centuries ago, it had been co-opted by certain European courts as a day of romance.

Crowley, on the other hand, dove right into it, reveled in it: the poetry, the elaborate tournaments, the sighing tales of courtly love. He was in his element.

After all, a celebration of love might be considered Heavenly, but a day devoted to pageantry and dramatic empty gestures? With an undercurrent of lust masked by a noble myth of pure adoration? That sounded downright demonic.

At least, that’s what he told Head Office. Humans, as always, did ninety percent of the work. Crowley simply observed and dropped a few well-placed suggestions. The poetry got worse, the eloquent love declarations more empty.

By 1800, the exchange of awful verse and sappy greetings in mid-February had become so entrenched in English society that printers had begun to mass-produce cards for the holiday. By 1835, thousands of Valentines – store bought or handmade – were sent through the post every year.

A few more whispered words into the right ears. In 1840, postal rates across the kingdom dropped, and the first postage stamp was introduced. The next February, four hundred thousand Valentines Day cards were mailed all around the country – and, thanks to the changes in the postal system, they could now be sent anonymously.

--

On the thirteenth of February, 1841, an envelope was delivered to A.Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop – there was no sender’s address, no salutation, just a number and street name, hastily scribbled. Inside was a simple piece of white card, covered enthusiastically but inexpertly with white lace; pasted in the center, framed by a heart, was a printed image, a bouquet of red roses and blue forget-me-nots. Below, a bit of gold ribbon surrounded a single word: Devotion.

“I don’t know, Angel,” Crowley grumbled when Aziraphale showed it to him. “Could be anyone. Could be one of your customers. Maybe one of them has a thing for rude shopkeepers.”

“I don’t think so,” Aziraphale said, turning the card over to study the pattern of the lace. “There’s something very familiar about it…”

“Familiar?” Crowley demanded sharply.

“I mean, the sender is being very familiar with the recipient. As if they’d known each other a long time.” He ran his finger across the single word. “Perhaps it was misdirected?”

“Nrg.” Crowley shrugged.

In 1842, another envelope arrived. This one held a pre-printed card, a single flower on a pink-and-gold background. A bright red heart, tucked behind a pink ribbon, carried the message:

Paeonia, symbol of happiness sublime

Wilt thou be my Valentine?

More pre-printed cards followed.

In 1843, two birds built a nest, filled with hearts instead of eggs.

In 1846, a couple strolling through a watercolor landscape under the words Valentine Greetings.

In 1849, a little girl in a white dress with a basket of roses, and the words With True Love.

In 1852, the angels started appearing. The first was surrounded by morning glories and gold filigree. Loving Greeting.

1853 brought back the lace and forget-me-nots, surrounding a winged figure wrapped in lace and gauze and little else. With Love and Devotion.

In 1854, a chubby cupid crossed a serene lake in a white-and-gold boat filled with pink roses; a line of white swans bridled with more roses pulled it along. Love’s Message to my Valentine.

“They’re just pre-printed messages,” Crowley pointed out in 1856. “They don’t mean anything. Whoever sent it probably just picked one that looked nice.”

“Oh, no, there’s real feeling behind it, I’m sure. Look at this.” It was the most elaborate yet: white lace, roses, hearts, a dove delivering a heart-covered envelope to a little angel, white ribbon framing a poem, tied in a perfect bow.

Crowley rolled his whole head in an exaggerated gesture. “Trying way too hard,” was all he said.

“Are you jealous?” Aziraphale asked with a grin.

“Jealous? What, that you get sappy misdirected mail? No, I’m fine without.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, studying first Crowley, then the card. “Sixteen years? Without missing one? Surely it must be intentional.”

“Angel, a million of those are sent every year. There has to be some mistakes in all that.”

“Perhaps you’re right…” His eyes ran across the poem one more time.

May this bow of white

Which gives delight

And which I send to you

A token be

Of love divine

Oh, will’t thou be

My Valentine?

“Truly horrible verse,” Crowley muttered. “Does that even scan?”

1857 saw the return of the hand-made cards. Skillfully cut paper, lace, ribbons, flowers – sometimes painted, sometimes embroidered onto linen. Pre-made pieces, painstakingly glued together with endearing imperfection. The messages were short, but hand-written: To My Star. Valentine Greeting. Love Always.

“They have different handwriting,” Crowley pointed out. “Different senders.”

“I suppose,” Aziraphale conceded. “Unless the sender is disguising their handwriting.”

“Wh-what? Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know. But look – all the ribbons are pasted on exactly the same way.”

Crowley squinted at three different cards. “I don’t see it,” he said flatly. “I think it’s your imagination. Do you want a secret admirer?”

“No,” Aziraphale started slowly, glancing at Crowley from the corner of his eyes. “No, on the whole I’d rather have an admirer I knew.”

“Mh. Why do you keep those, anyway?”

“Oh, I love a mystery.” Aziraphale felt the grin slide across his face. “Anonymous cards, mailed to my shop every Valentines Day for almost twenty years? Simply irresistible, wouldn’t you say?”

Crowley, apparently, had nothing at all to say.

In 1862, the poetry returned, pre-printed again but at least somewhat better verse. Around a watercolor that was possibly meant to depict Romeo and Juliet:

I may wander over land and sea

Pass many days away from thee

Yet my heart can never rove

From thee, my own, my love.

Aziraphale professed it was his favorite yet, but Crowley only scowled.

--

The greatest shock was the card that arrived in 1864.

Aziraphale had not expected anything that year. The envelope sat in his hands, as simple and anonymous as all the others. Inside, a heart-shaped card framing an almost embarrassingly cute cat.

This little kitten,

Valentine,

Has come to ask you

To be mine.

He suddenly realized he had made a grave miscalculation. If these cards were still arriving after…after certain recent developments…that could only mean…

Well. At least Crowley was no longer around to realize what a foolish conclusion he’d jumped to.

Another print arrived in 1865, a young lady holding a tulip to her nose.

Oh! Would I were the flower that sips

The honied kisses from your lips.

My Darling Valentine.

The card tumbled from his trembling fingers.

Why? Why did he even bother opening it? Why did he keep them even now?

Aziraphale grabbed all twenty-five Valentine’s Day cards and thrust them into a box. He found a spot on the highest shelf of the bookcase furthest from the door, tucked the box into a corner so gloomy even he could barely spot it. He was absolutely determined to forget any cards had ever arrived.

The envelope that arrived in 1866 was tucked, unopened, into a thick volume of Greek philosophy and pushed back onto a dusty shelf. Aziraphale swore no matter how many more arrived, he would never look.

But, as if a spell were broken, no more Valentines were delivered after that. And the last one remained unopened for over seventy-five years.

Until, two nights after a certain incident in a church, he found it again, hands shaking from the exertion of the search, from the unnamed emotions racing through him.

The card inside was gold and silver lace, simple yet elegant in a way he hadn’t remembered the others being. There was an earnest charm to the way the edges didn’t quite line up to the white paper underneath. In the center, a printed poem, surrounded by hand-painted flowers in more varieties than Aziraphale could name.

Valentine –

Fain would I guard thee through life’s desert drear

And fling around thee love to soothe and cheer

For thee I live might I but call thee mine

I’d be forever thy own Valentine.

He didn’t know how it was possible, but only one being in all Creation would send such a poem.

Aziraphale sat down on the floor of his shop. The tears he’d been holding in for two days finally began to fall.

--

After Crowley woke from his extended nap, he was disgusted to find how the holiday had spiraled out of control, how it only grew worse with every passing decade. Chocolates. Jewelry. Mass-market commercialization. It became a million-pound industry, and eventually a billion-pound one. Where once hopeful lovers could send a chintzy greeting card for a few pennies, the fools now spent a week’s pay – or more – on useless trinkets, somehow convinced it would ensure a return of affection.

And the engagements! The diamond rings, the elaborate proposals.

It was an absolute mockery of the cheap, empty exchange of sentiments he had spent so long cultivating. Was nothing sacred?

He was sure the Americans were to blame.

And yet now, when the holiday was devoid even of the anti-meaning Crowley had worked so hard to endow it with, now Aziraphale took notice? Now he began decorating his shop with angels even more absurd than the ones he usually collected? Now he put vases full of dried flowers on every table – roses and carnations and tulips in pink and red and white?

Every year, the traditions grew worse, yet Aziraphale only embraced the holiday more.

--

The Apocalypse had come and gone. The world had changed. For eight months they’d stood on the cusp of…something.

It was absurd. They each knew how the other felt – there was no denying it at this point – but somehow, after six thousand years, Crowley suddenly couldn’t find a way to say the words. Now it was Aziraphale waiting patiently on him, and if that wasn’t embarrassing, he didn’t know what was.

He just needed the right time. He’d hoped Valentine’s Day could be it.

But here it was, the fourteenth of February, and all Crowley felt was fed up. He couldn’t bring himself to buy the overpriced flowers, the punfully-named treats, even a racy gag gift (of which there was never any shortage in Soho). It just felt…empty.

He walked into the bookshop and prepared to disappoint his angel.

--

Aziraphale had set up a garland of sorts, too, but not paper flowers or bright red crepe paper. Across the two pillars nearest the door – where no one entering the shop could miss them, let alone Crowley – hanging from a string, were twenty-six Victorian Valentine’s Day cards.

Some were handmade – clumsy and uneven. Some were pre-printed – cheap, mass-produced. All were just a little tacky, but in the light of the shop, they seemed to glow with love.

“Ah! You’re here.” Aziraphale emerged with a pile of 19th-century romance novels, which he proceeded to arrange on the front table, to more easily chase customers away from them. “How do you like my decorating?”

“Oh. Uh. You. You kept those.”

“Naturally.” He didn’t even turn away from his task. “They were sent by someone very important to me.”

Crowley gulped. “You worked that out, then?”

“Yes, dear, in 1843.” Aziraphale chuckled, standing a copy of Wuthering Heights on the top of his display.

“Uh…Nh…” Crowley felt his face getting very warm. “You could have said –”

“I assumed, at the time, this was the beginning of some very elaborate prank on your part, and I was curious to see where it might go.”

“You – you said it was a mystery!”

“Yes, that was me playing along.” Satisfied with his display, Aziraphale turned back. “Now, if we’re finally going to talk about this, I do have a question.”

Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet. No avoiding this, it seemed. “Fine. Right. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but it was…it was too much. Too big.” He looked at the ceiling as he talked, the walls, anywhere but at the angel who was now watching him with rapt attention. “You’d just reject it, and I didn’t want that kind of…y’know. So I just – I devalued what it means to say…that…on Valentine’s Day. Made it cheap and easy and meaningless so that when I told you, maybe it wouldn’t seem so big. Maybe you’d be able to accept it. Or at least maybe the rejection wouldn’t hurt as much.”

Soft footsteps across the floorboards, and Aziraphale’s hand on his cheek, drawing his face back down to meet that blue gaze.

“I know. I worked that out, oh, seventy years ago.”

“You what?”

“Once I understood how you felt, well, it seemed rather obvious. I also know why it never worked.”

Crowley hadn’t felt this completely lost since the night the world had almost ended. He reached up and grasped Aziraphale’s hand for balance. “Please…enlighten me.”

“Crowley, dear. A meaningless bit of frippery bought for a few pennies? A quiet I love you disguised as a joke? That’s not who you are. You need a big, grand show of affection, a blazing banner across the sky, or it won’t ever feel real to you. So even when I told you I liked the cards, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. The holiday was all wrong.”

“Thanks,” Crowley grumbled.

“Well, I was going to say something when you next sent me a card, only you never did. And so I, well, I decided to encourage the humans to, as you say, ‘go bigger.’ I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist a culture of grand romantic gestures. Only I’m not very subtle and it got rather out of hand.”

Behind his glasses, Crowley blinked.

“So…all – all that,” Crowley waved a hand at the window. “All that was you?”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled apologetically, though the bastard had probably never been sorry a day in his life. “The holiday generally, and also more specifically the state of Soho just now. I’ve been rather giddy lately and it seems to have gone contagious.”

Crowley thought of everything the day had come to mean – the heart-shaped sweets, the over-the-top dinners, flowers that cost as much as an outfit, jewelry that cost as much as a car. Piles of gifts of every description, sky-diving marriage proposals, holiday getaways to Paris or Florence or tiny cottages in snow-filled forests.

“Aziraphale,” he laughed, found he couldn’t stop laughing. “Angel! You…you made a whole holiday of big, stupid, over-the-top romantic gestures for me?”

“Only because you started it.” He slipped his arms around Crowley’s neck, pulling them together, resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s hips, pressing their bodies close. The words he wanted to say danced on the edge of his tongue, waiting for the right moment.  Not yet, not yet. Instead he asked, “Didn’t you have a question?”

“Ah, yes. How did you do it?” Aziraphale pulled back enough to look up at his eyes. “The last three cards arrived while you were asleep.”

“Oh! That’s easy enough.” His hands found their way into Aziraphale’s and, without anyone needing to suggest it out loud, they walked together to the back room and the well-worn sofa, where a bottle of wine waited for them. “I didn’t want to lose my nerve, so I would buy and send the cards five at a time. I gave the post office instructions to mail them one per year. I told myself each time, ‘After the last card, I’ll say it out loud.’ But, well, I always wound up buying more cards.”

Aziaphale froze two steps away from the sofa. “Are you saying you haven’t bought me a Valentine since 1861? This is outrageous.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, flinging himself down and pulling Aziraphale after him. “Have you seen what passes for romantic verse these days? Pathetic. I’m not going to pay…five pounds or whatever it is for that nonsense.”

“Mmm.” Aziraphale shifted to lean against him, flashing another bastard smile. “I suppose the card selection has been disappointing lately. Still, an angel likes a little poetry now and again.”

“Poetry, is it?” Crowley pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside so he could meet that breathtaking blue gaze straight on. Caught one of Aziraphale’s hands and held it to his chest.

Women have loved before as I love now;

At least, in lively chronicles of the past –

Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow

Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast

Much to their cost invaded – here and there,

Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest,

I find some woman bearing as I bear

Love like a burning city in the breast.

I think however that of all alive

I only in such utter, ancient way

Do suffer love; in me alone survive

The unregenerate passions of a day

When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread,

Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed.

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured. “Well, that’s hardly appropriate for a card.”

Crowley tried to raise Aziraphale’s hand to his lips, but discovered he was shaking too much. “It’s – You’re probably right. But it’s how I’ve felt. For a very long time.”

Aziraphale pulled his hand back, then leaned in to softly brush his lips against Crowley’s. Hesitant. Shy. But when he finished, he didn’t pull back. Crowley could feel the trembling of Aziraphale’s breath, mirroring his own.

“I love you, too,” his angel whispered. “I hope you know that.”

-- end --

Inspired by the pastries at my local bakery, and by a conversation with @angel-and-serpent 

All the Victorian Valentines described are actual cards (I tried to do all vintage, but some may have been replicas/modern cards in “Victorian” style), slightly altered to be easier to describe. I also changed a word or two where the poetry was especially bad.

The final poem is by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I’ve said many times I default write the Husbands as asexual, but then Crowley goes and picks one of the sexy sonnets, so I guess interpret where things go from there as you see fit. (I’m ace myself and not going to try and deny the power of Millay’s sexy sonnets. Look at that thing. I become 5% more allo and 8% gayer every time I read it.)

[doggiedrawings]

Shipping Delays (Dec 2020)

Dear customers,

I have been hearing from anxious customers wanting to know where their orders are. USPS’s tracking updates have been slow to change. Some orders are not even showing any movement through the system in spite of having been shipped (by me) weeks ago. Please know that I am also anxious for you to receive your orders as soon as possible.

I made a phone call to my local post office last week to get more information on the status of shipments that have not been updated in their system. I asked if these could be lost, and I was told that their distribution center is overwhelmed and backed up due to the COVID pandemic. There is a 70% increase in packages shipped in 2020 compared to this time in 2019. 

The US Postal Service is short on transportation and employees because so many workers are sick and quarantined with COVID, and even some Priority Mail packages have been delayed by weeks. The Post Office couldn’t give me any more information about the specifics of your shipments. They suggested I tell my customers to be patient, and wait. Our poor postal workers are trying their best.

News articles: 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2020/12/21/usps-delays-christmas/

https://slate.com/business/2020/12/postal-service-delays-problems-holidays-covid.html

I am very sorry that you haven’t received your order. This situation is outside my control. I thank you for supporting all artists and small businesses like mine - I know that other etsy sellers are also being impacted by these shipping delays - and thank you for understanding that things are not normal right now. 

Please be patient and explain to your friends and family why their gifts will arrive late this year.

Thank you, Lili

www.doggiedrawings.net/shop

[siren-sashimi]

More ideas for a marquis fanfic (tryna keep it unique, lol)

1: what if the reader was a civilian trying to find her brother (who she doesn’t know was in the assassin world and was killed) and while investigating crosses paths with the marquis?

2: reader is pregnant and dealing with cravings. A cute fluffy fic

3: reader owns a pastry shop the marquis is a patron at.

4: the reader tries to leave the marquis because they can’t take the relationship (maybe the danger that comes with the marquis or he’s too controlling) and he stops the reader before they can leave Paris (can be cute or dark, your choice)

5: aside from romantic relationships, what would it be like being the sibling of the marquis?

Hey, hey anon! Glad to hear from you once more. ^^ There's no pressure for you to be unique, if you feel like chatting about le connard du jour, my inbox is all but ready. :D

Hmm, I wouldn't have any ideas yet but if any other writer finds it appealing, feel free to make something wonderful with the dear anon's prompt. I'm mostly hesistant because Vincent moves on a very specific place of a secret parallel world, extra layer of filthy stinking wealth, making his crossing towards civilian life a bit harder, and him getting interested by accident is a bit harder for me to imagine. There must be something intriguing in the other for him to get interested, let alone care; in my mind at least.

I don't know if I'm any good at fluff, especially since I think the topic of children is an extremely touchy subject in the fickle world of assassins. But when it comes to food topics...

...you're in luck. Recently I read the mad genius food porn "Butter" by Yuzuki Asako in which food is layered with social commentary, thought about the self, lust for joy, lust for life, gender dynamics, worth by looks. (If the story sounds interesting to you, I highly recommend giving it a try. It was like a literary banquet to me.) Meaning I'm extremely open to the idea of sensuality expressed in the joys of food, extremely well made food. Here, another snippet you inspired me to write, thank you. (x) (btw, this was the reason the reply comes in that late... Sorry, I got very carried away with entire chapter outlines because I'd so many ideas for the meals that could be served. If anyone's interested I might put up as well.)

Oh gosh this can only go terribly bad... I'm pretty certain that Vincent, especially when he made it into the position of a Marquis, would be unbearably egocentric. Which means he wouldn't understand why he isn't all one could wish for. At all. There're already two such scenarios out there but I'm dabbling in an outline. Note that in the movie Vincent might be way too sure that his plans suceed with his methods. Still, like when he noticed sending the entire Parisian underworld after John Wick failed, he doesn't delude himself thinking he might still suceed. He just desperately throws more money at the problem. So I don't think that he's an unrealistic person yet one who's too used to getting what he wants, and not exactly good at fine methods. If that's his way to solve problems... oh boy...

Before we start I would like to preface that I like to use Skarsgård's idea of the Marquis coming from an impoverished background who has made it to the top. In can the relationship going two ways a) The siblings never really got along, chose different paths in life, and barely see each other. They might meet at funerals or weddings but only if Vincent can make it, by now the sibling isn't counting on him anymore actually. Not without a tinge of bitterness that remains in the mouth for longer than expected... Sometimes Vincent drops by randomly; less out of affection but more because he needs a hideaway after getting into trouble. When his sibling is in need of money or get their first child an anonymous deposit lands on their bankaccount with some more poetic variation of "thanks for letting me crash on your couch". Still, no noticable affections, no frequent, let alone scheduled visits... b) Co-dependent, verging on unhealthy. cw: emotionally difficult relationship, threats, emotional blackmailing, unhealthy sibling dynamic From the two of them, Vincent is the highly ambitious one to make it out of his life. Violence, lying, backstabbing, force are all fair means to his end. The only actual affection he has, the only one sparking humane feelings is for his sibling. In his egoism and strong drive, Vincent is the more dominant one. Even if the other sibling doesn't have a meek personality, they know at some point that they'll always find themselves in the wash of their driven sibling. Vincent will drag them with them to a better life. And Vincent needs his sibling. The only person he can trust, he knows will never betray or pose a threat to him. Maybe he will allow them to life their own life albeit be it in his design. Him being always close enough to receive comfort, encouragement, and a hideaway when needed. Their siblings knows a lot of disturbing stuff Vincent did to make it this far... It's upsetting, he did so much for them. They can't out a single sound to no one. Oh, if the sibling ever wants to make decisions causing Vincent to worry if they would prioritize affection for some else but him, he can get mean, frantic, even vaguely threatening to take the sibling's life style comfort away like cutting money for higher education, making it impossible to find a new place to rent or buy, get them fired. (Let's just say, dating includes the partner desperately needing Vincent's approval. If the reader ever wants to gets kids, they should urgently plan out an entire strategy how to slowly selling Vincent on the idea of becoming an uncle, and how of course he would be the most involved uncle of them all.) Then there's also the aspect that Vincent is a man envied by many. He might use them as pawn or bait with or without his sibling's knowledge. By times the sibling has to interrupt their own life because they're in danger from Vincent's enemies - again and again.... The worst is, Vincent is too headstrong to admit to his wrongs. He even justifies it that so much he did is for them too. But the reader lives well, they're happy they're out of their birthplace. A calm home, maybe a little garden, a fulfilling job, some holidays, a good life, that's all. They don't want more, why does Vincent act as if he needed to do all of that for more, more, and more his own sibling neither wants or needs? As much as they love him, in the end the only end to his means is Vincent himself.

[incorrigible-rapscallion]

A Serial Killer’s Guide to Men and Manslaughter--SCRIPT (pgs. 7-14)

[pgs 1-2; 3-7]

EXT. PARK - DAY - LATER 

David pulls up in his car to the park. Achilles looks expectantly out the window then at David. 

      DAVID       (to Achilles)  Alright. We single-handedly faced Aunt Harriet and survived. I think we've earned a breather. 

A group of TEENAGERS are sprawled out at the park gazebo. Once they see David and Achilles get out, they come bounding over with questions. 

     TEEN 1  Can I pet him? 

      DAVID  Go right ahead, he's very friendly. 

      TEEN 2  He only has three legs, why's that? 

      DAVID  He was born with only three legs. 

      TEEN 3  What's his name? 

      DAVID Achilles. Can you guess why I named him that? 

      TEEN 1  Oh, the Trojan War guy! He was invincible except for his Achilles Heel. 

      DAVID  Someone has been doing their homework. 

      SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (O.S.)  Sir, this isn't a dog park. 

SHERIFF LIVINGSTON appears and the teens scamper off. Livingston is young, fresh-faced, and a woman of color with natural hair. She is dressed in civilian clothing, no gun, but with a badge on her belt. 

     DAVID  My apologies, this is my service animal, but I left his vest in the car. I can show you his documents if you wish. 

Sheriff Livingston looks skeptically at Achilles. 

     DAVID (CONT'D)  If you're wondering about his capability as a service dog, he was raised and trained just like any other assistance animal, except he wasn't going to be selected due to his--let me just go get his papers-- 

     SHERIFF LIVINGSTON  Would you mind taking off your sunglasses? 

     DAVID  Why? 

     SHERIFF LIVINGSTON  I know every face in town, but not yours. I'd like to change that. 

David removes his sunglasses slowly. 

     SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (CONT'D)  Oh, you’re David, Harriet’s nephew. Where are my manners--I'm Hannah Livingston. You know, Harriet has pictures of you everywhere; she’s incredibly proud of your career. 

David nods, still uncertain and nonverbal. The sound of his breathing progressively escalates as Livingston speaks: 

     SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (CONT'D)  How do you possibly come up with all those mysteries? They say that everything has already been done before, but your books feel so original. Your killers are nuanced with realistic motivations. I've never met a homicidal manic myself, living out here in Pleasant Grove, so I’d love to pick your brain.... 

David stops breathing. Achilles rubs up against him urgently and licks his hand. Livingston notices this all too late. 

     SHERIFF LIVINGSTON (CONT'D)  Maybe some other time.... Don’t worry about the paperwork. Have a good rest of your day. 

David exhales once Sheriff Livingston walks away. 

He fumbles for his notebook and scribbles the date, time, and the words:      "Sheriff--hiding something important" 

INT. SHOPS - DAY - LATER 

MONTAGE: DAVID AND ACHILLES ON ERRANDS FOR HARRIET 

They pick up packages at the Post Office, Achilles now proudly wearing his service vest. 

The POSTAL CLERK is gruff and impatient. David walks away from the exchange while scribbling in his notebook the date, time, and the words:        "PO Worker--recent widower." 

They stand at the checkout in a quaint grocery store with a selection of produce. The GROCER is frazzled and David scribbles:        "Grocer--skipped lunch break." 

They stop by a florist shop and interact with the FLORIST OWNER, who is overly friendly. David scribbles:       "Florist--rebounding from a breakup." 

                                                                                              END OF MONTAGE  

INT. THE WRIGHT PLACE BUTCHERY 

The Wright Place Butchery is tastefully decorated with pastoral lighting and decor. There are chair arrangements intended for waiting customers. 

David and Achilles stand behind MR. LANCASTER, a veal/mutton supplier. A college-aged clerk, LILY, works the register. 

     MR. LANCASTER  ...and you mean to tell me that this shipment is wrong? 

     LILY  I wouldn't say wrong, Mr. Lancaster. Just a little off. 

     MR. LANCASTER  "Just a little off" means wrong. 

     LILY  It's just that July is around the corner, and we need more space for beef and pork cuts--I'll be with you in a minute, sir!--since most families aren't usually looking for veal or mutton hot dogs to celebrate the holiday, you know? 

     MR. LANCASTER  Young lady, you have told me absolutely nothing except that I am apparently wrong. Where is Mr. Wright? 

      LILY  Mr. Wright just went to check on something in the deep freezer. He'll be back as soon as he can. Until then, why don't you take a seat so I can help the next customer in line. 

Mr. Lancaster turns around to see David and Achilles. He doesn't take the proffered seat. 

     MR. LANCASTER  This day just keeps getting better, doesn't it? 

David and Achilles go to the counter, where Lily greets them. 

     LILY  If you're looking to bring home the bacon, you've come to the Wright Place! 

     DAVID  I'm here on behalf of Harriet Truelove. I'm picking up her weekly order of hamburger. 

     LILY  Oh, I love Ms. Harriet! She always says the funniest stuff. I'll be right back with that order, Mr...? 

     DAVID  David is fine. 

Lily leaves. David pulls out his notebook and begins to write the date and time, until-- 

     MR. LANCASTER  A three-legged service dog. I oughta get one of those vests for my miniature pony. Or, better yet, get one for my ten-point buck mount. 

     DAVID  Actually, miniature horses are considered an accepted service animal by the ADA, even though they are still recognized as an unorthodox choice due to their size and care. I cannot speak for taxidermy. 

     MR. LANCASTER  I guess ol' Harriet is taking them even younger now? 

     DAVID  Excuse me? 

     MR. LANCASTER  Harriet. You're her latest--what does she like to call it?--"liaison?" 

     THOMAS WRIGHT (O.S.)  Mr. Lancaster, finally. 

Thomas enters with Lily. He wears a stylish tweed suit. Lily holds David's order, which is wrapped nicely like a present. 

Thomas comes around in front of the counter and greets Mr. Lancaster with a warm handshake. 

INTER-CUT BETWEEN LANCASTER/THOMAS & LILY/DAVID: 

      MR. LANCASTER  I hear that you have some news for me?        THOMAS  Yes, I was trying to get a hold of you earlier, but I wasn't able to get through on your cell. 

      LILY  Here you go, Mr. David. Awww, can I pet your dog?        DAVID  Go right ahead. He's very friendly.

Lily crouches down to scruff Achilles. Mr. Lancaster motions to her position as he speaks: 

      MR. LANCASTER  This little lady informed me that you will not be needing my services this month.       THOMAS  I certainly hope not! But unfortunately I won't have the space to fit my usual stock of veal and mutton for the next few weeks, what with July coming up and all. 

Lily overhears Mr. Lancaster, pauses to listen for Thomas' response, then shares a knowing look with David. 

     LILY  I apologize if Mr. Lancaster said something rude to you. He always makes a scene every time he comes in.       DAVID  You handled him extraordinarily well. I hope that he gets his shipment with Mr. Wright fixed.       LILY  Oh that? No, he just likes to fuss--I think it's his only joy in life. He  knows that we didn't need as much this month. Everything is good to go. 

     MR. LANCASTER  I suppose that I will be able to handle the difference. I'm a bit short this season, which is lucky for you. 

Thomas begins to usher Mr. Lancaster out the door. In the bustle, Mr. Lancaster bumps into David, causing him to drop his notebook. 

Thomas picks it up before David can get a chance. 

     THOMAS  No, allow me-- 

David and Thomas lock eyes as he hands over the notebook. 

     THOMAS (CONT'D)  Mr. David Truelove. I'm a fan of your work. 

David grips the notebook and jerks away. 

      LILY  Oh, you're Mr. Truelove, the author! I should've known, Ms. Harriet has said a lot about you. 

David pushes past Mr. Lancaster and leaves abruptly. 

INT./EXT. DAVID'S CAR /PLEASANT GROVE  (TRAVELING)

David continues across the street to where his car is parked. 

Inside the car with Achilles, David exhales and scribbles the date, time, and the words:        "Mr. Wright--serial killer" 

David takes a moment before starting his car. 

Once he backs on to the street, he looks out the passenger window to the The Wright Place. 

Thomas stares intently through both the store and car windows to lock gazes once again with David. 

David continues down the street and passes Sheriff Livingston again. He stays at a stop sign for too long, considering, but a car politely honks behind him. 

He goes on to Harriet's house. 

[whump-it]

Rory’s Audit; Part 1

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70   @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumpfigure @whumppsychology @ashintheairlikesnow

The Collection Box had been quiet again just recently.  The usual ebb and flow of the seasons.  It was normal.  It happened ever year without fail.  But Rory still felt a little nervous about the impending visit from his boss.  They hadn’t had much cause to interact often since Rory had started working for the Programme.  Mr Newman spent most of his time at the Locality Facility, only rarely stopping by to clap Rory on the shoulder and tell him that he “ran a tight ship”.  And then he was gone again for months on end.  It was partly why Rory had become so organised in the first place; there was no one there to help him or tell him what to do so he kept rigorous notes, took excellent care of the Locality Box, and kept the equipment in top notch condition, always replacing it before it really needed it.

Rory loved his job and he felt as sure as he could that he was good at it.  His BP were always calm and content.  His Selectors often sent thank you cards or photos of themselves with their BP over the years.  Not all of them did but a good enough amount did to reassure him that the system was helping a huge amount of people.  And it paid for him to be able to keep a roof over his head.  Bills paid on time.  Food bought.  A little to go aside into savings every few months. 

All in all, a visit from his boss, especially one preceded by a gruff sounding and very short phone call was a concern.   He both loved, and needed his job.

So in the few hours prior to the visit he had spent time cleaning everything.  Making his Collection Box into the best damn box that the world had ever seen.  He vacuumed.  He dusted.  He damp dusted.  He swept.  He had one BP in who was taking the chance to have a midday sleep after Rory had checked that they were comfortable and full, not needing the toilet or not feeling unwell.  He apologised for all of the noise that he was making and tried to keep it down now that they were sleeping. 

“Boss man coming in or something?” they’d joked at him.

“Actually yes,”  Rory had said.  The BP had frowned.

“Don’t look so nervous,” they had said.  “I’ll tell them how good it is here.”

The memory of the little exchange had kept the edge off Rory’s panic for most of the morning, until the knock at his door came and caused an uncomfortable leap up in his heart, thudding in his chest.  He rubbed his palms down the legs of his trousers in an attempt at not having sweaty palms in time to shake his boss’s hand.  It certainly made turning the doorknob to his office door into an easier task.

“Mr Newman,” Rory said, a smile on his lips that didn’t quite meet his eyes as he tried to inject a light hearted tone to his voice.  “Good to see you again.”  He shifted back out of the way of the door before remembering that he had meant to shake hands.  He stuck his hand out as Mr Newman walked through the door, effectively slapping his boss in the stomach as he did so.  Mr Newman stopped at the slap of Rory’s hand and looked down at the offending appendage.  Rory winced and slowly brought his hand back to his own side. 

“Sorry,”  he said.  “Awkward.”  He could feel his face heating up as Mr Newman stood and regarded him with one eyebrow raised as he sighed.  “Ok, come on in!”  Mr Newman walked past him, and Rory shut the door, wincing and muttering to himself to stop being such an idiot before straightening up, tugging his hand through his hair, fixing his smile back on his face and going to sit at his desk.

"Look," Mr Newman said, sitting down and waving a hand impatiently at Rory, hurrying him up. "I'll keep this simple. We need to run an audit; you need to run an audit. State ordered. No wiggle room."

"Ok?" Rory said, leaning back then sitting forward. Awkward. Uncertain.

"Don't play the idiot," Mr Newman snapped. "The rumour mill's been working up to this and there's no way that even you, isolated as you've made yourself out here, there's no way that you haven't heard anything." Rory held his nerve. Held his silence. He wanted more certainty from his boss.  Mr Newman sighed and crossed one leg over the other, ankle to knee.  “The young BP, Rory.  Some girl has come out saying that she was kept and abused by some drug lord, drug baron.  Whatever.  Look, they should’ve sent her down with him but somehow she got off all the charges.  It was her money he was using.”

“Well,” Rory said, the tiniest hint of a shake to his voice.  A fraction of nerves amongst the knowledge that what he was about to say was going to be right.  “It was his money once she was Selected so, technically, she had no control over what he did.”

“So you have heard,”

“Well....”

“Stop saying ‘well’ all the time,”

“I’ve heard,”  Rory said.  His inner monologue had been aching over the rumours.  Pining.  The scabbed-over wound that Callum Morrow’s appearance and subsequent Selection had left was fresh and bleeding again.  But with only a rumour to go on, he had set it to one side. And burned and ached.  But he had put it to the back of his mind, stamped it down.  Callum was fine.  Callum was happy.  His Selector checked out.  It was one rumour. 

“We, apparently, can’t “go on turning a blind eye” anymore.  Or so the Givernment are saying.  Some internet forum or some other rubbish.  I don’t know.  But people are starting to kick up trouble.  Not the BP I may add.  The girl has gone quiet.  No other BP are whining.  But the powers that be don’t like how it looks.  We’ll come out of it fine.  But I need you to do that audit.  And I want to see the results first.  Got it?”

“Got it,” Rory muttered.  The voice in his head kept getting louder.  Callum Callum Callum.  A scar that had suddenly stopped healing.  Sutures tearing out.  Mr Newman glared at him.

“You better have “got it”,” he said, as he stood and turned his back on Rory, walked to the door.  “How long is this likely to take?”

“Um,” Rory mentally shook himself.  Callum Callum Callum.  Be ok.  Be ok.  “Not long.  I only have one under twenty five ever come through here.  Don’t ever get any under about forty actually.”

“So...?”  Mr Newman flapped one hand at him, the other already turning the doorknob.

“Give me a week,” Rory said.  “I keep good records.”  His attention was already wandering further and further from his boss and drifting to his laptop and his filing cabinet.  His data sticks and his photographs.  He heard Mr Newman’s terse goodbye but not the words.  The banging shut of the door jolted his attention to the buzzing silence of the room around him.  “Fuck.”  He hissed the word out into the room, pulling at his hair, rubbing at his face.  Dashing away at tears that he had not realised were even beginning to gather.  He felt pulled in too many different directions.  There was too much to do and too many places to start.  He snatched up a piece of paper and started to write.  He needed a list.  A plan.  A way to channel his thoughts so that they wouldn’t get away from him.  He needed to produce an audit.  Please his boss.  Keep the only source of money that he had. 

He needed Callum to be ok.  More than all of those things, he needed Callum to be ok.

The list grew.  It flowed out from his pen.  He forced himself to write alowly and neatly.  Mistakes could not be a part of this.  And rushing wouldn’t achieve anything.  The very first thing on his list read ’look after current BP’.  He took a deep breath in and out, and carried on.  ‘Laptop’, ‘data stick 3ii’, ‘file copy Callum Morrow’, ‘file copy Hayden Reeve’.  He wrote down the websites and databases that would hold the answers to the questions that he was forming and solidifying in his mind.  ‘Postal Service’, ‘GIS’, ‘MapReader’. 

At the very bottom he wrote ‘You’ve got one week to get him’.

[saveahorse-ride-a-cowboy]

After years of thinking that Anakin's only option to send a letter was through the Order's own postal service, Anakin finally gathers the courage to ask someone he trusts about the mailing situation.

He turns to Quin, knowing that Ben would ask far too many questions- and to his surprise, there are actually public mailing offices all around Coruscant. There's literally one just two blocks away. Quin suggested buying something called a P.O. Box, so he could have whatever letters he wants delivered straight there.

Interesting.

He sits down one afternoon and takes a deep, shaky breath, staring at the blank page for at least an hour before finally figuring out what to write. He takes pen to paper, writing in Huttese for you.

Lili,

Hi. It's... been so long. I'm so sorry. I kind of messed up and didn't know to ask where I could send and receive mail. I know, I'm really dumb. It's just- I tried with the Temple's mailing center and they said no. I didn't know what to do.

Anyway, I hope you can forgive me. I'm really sorry.

How are you doing? Are you holding up okay? I miss you so much. Coruscant isn't the same without you by my side 24/5. I think you'd love it here, it's basically the complete opposite of Tatooine in so many ways.

Tell me about you. How are you doing? I already asked that, didn't I. What have you been doing recently? How's my mother? And the village elder- is she doing alright? How have the sandstorms been?

I want to know anything and everything. And I plan to send you a small present soon too. :) I'm really nervous about this so I think this is all I'll write for now...

I love you so much. Please know that. Please.

Ani.

He carefully secures the letter and runs down to the closest mailing office, first purchasing a box for himself before being able to write down his address on the envelope.

Once he successfully writes his address on the envelope and adds the proper stamps, he gives the envelope a soft kiss and slips it into the box.

The letter reaches you in a few days, when the mail deliverer of the village comes by to drop it off with you at work.

"Lili?" he asks softly as he peeks his head in the door, scanning for your Master. "I have mail for you. Should I leave it at your home?"

“Mail?” I furrow my eyebrows and shrug, “no I can take it here. Depur has gone for the day so it’s only me.” I wave him in and then hold out a hand for the letter, “thank you Deval.”

[officialotakudome]

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New Post has been published on https://otakudome.com/nintendo-announces-oxenfree-ii-more-to-switch/

Nintendo Announces Oxenfree II & More to Switch

Nintendo has unveiled several indie games coming to Nintendo Switch:

REDMOND, Wash.–(BUSINESS WIRE)– Spring is in the air, and the latest indie adventures on Nintendo Switch are in full bloom! During the latest Indie World video presentation, Nintendo detailed 21 games from independent developers that are coming to Nintendo Switch – with three launching later today!

Indie games featured in the showcase include Road 96, a procedural story-driven game from DigixArt that will change depending on the choices you make; OXENFREE II: Lost Signals, a sequel to the original acclaimed supernatural game from Night School Studio; OlliOlli World, Roll7’s new skateboarding action game in the totally gnarly OlliOlli franchise; a pair of new games from celebrated publisher Annapurna Interactive; and The Longing, an experimental real-time adventure from Studio Seufz that launches today for Nintendo Switch.

Additionally, an Indie World sale is starting today in Nintendo eShop, offering discounts on select indie games for Nintendo Switch from now until April 25 at 11:59 p.m. PT. For a full list of indie games featured in the promotion, visit https://www.nintendo.com/games/sales-and-deals/.

“Nintendo Switch continues to offer a fresh and expanding library of great indie games that surprise players with their unique visions and compelling gameplay,” said Steve Singer, Nintendo of America’s Senior Vice President of Publisher and Developer Relations. “We hope people can enjoy these diverse games from talented independent developers anytime, anywhere on Nintendo Switch.”

Road 96 from DigixArt: In a narrative-focused game with a mix of adventure, exploration and puzzle-solving, Road 96 tells a procedural story with thousands of potential paths to take. Meet characters from all walks of life and learn their intertwining stories. The decisions you make – both big and small – can drastically alter your experience. There are many roads. Which one will you take? Road 96 drives onto Nintendo Switch later this year.

OXENFREE II: Lost Signals from Night School Studio: Published by MWM Interactive, OXENFREE II: Lost Signals is a supernatural narrative adventure game about a researcher who stumbles upon ghostly happenings. Five years after the events of OXENFREE, Riley returns to her hometown of Camena to investigate mysterious radio frequency signals causing curious disturbances. OXENFREE II: Lost Signals comes to Nintendo Switch in 2021.

OlliOlli World from Roll7: The bold new entry in the OlliOlli series is here! In OlliOlli World, tear up the streets of Radland and search for the mystical skate gods in this slick action platformer. With super-tight controls and level design that flows with your combos, you’ll have a blast mastering tricks, meeting colorful characters and discovering the hidden secrets of this vivid and vibrant world. OlliOlli World launches for Nintendo Switch this winter.

Annapurna Interactive: Two new games from Annapurna Interactive, the award-winning publishers of Florence and What Remains of Edith Finch, are coming to Nintendo Switch. These are just the latest artistic gems from the publisher’s already impressive library of games!

Hindsight: Hindsight, from developer Joel McDonald, is a poignant narrative game about an older woman reminiscing about her family. The objects from her past serve as portals into long-lost memories, revealing a decision that forever changed her life. Learn more when Hindsight launches for Nintendo Switch this year.

Last Stop: Last Stop from developer Variable State is a single-player third-person adventure set in modern-day London, where you play as three separate characters whose worlds collide in the midst of a supernatural crisis. What connects these three strangers? Where will fate lead them? Find out when Last Stop launches for Nintendo Switch in July.

The Longing from Studio Seufz: With a beautiful hand-drawn art style and an intriguing story, The Longing is unlike anything you have played before! The big twist: You don’t actually have to play to see how it ends! But that doesn’t mean you should just sit idly by. As main character Shade, you must wait 400 days for your king to awaken. While waiting, you can explore dark caves, complete time-based puzzles and collect items. Start your countdown clock now, as The Longing launches for Nintendo Switch … later today!

Aerial_Knight’s Never Yield from Aerial_Knight: This is not your typical “runner” game! Run, jump, slide and dash through a futuristic Tokyo-styled Detroit to a head-bopping soundtrack as the protagonist Wally to save what’s left of the future. Aerial_Knight’s Never Yield slides onto Nintendo Switch on May 19. A demo will be available in Nintendo eShop later today!

FEZ from Polytron: Gomez is a 2D creature living in a 2D world. Or is he? When the existence of a mysterious third dimension is revealed to him, Gomez is sent out on a journey that will take him to the very end of time and space. Use your ability to navigate 3D structures from four distinct classic 2D perspectives. The critically acclaimed FEZ launches for Nintendo Switch … later today!

Aztech Forgotten Gods from Lienzo: If you’re looking for a grand adventure inspired by Aztec mythology, look no further than Aztech Forgotten Gods from Mexican studio Lienzo. Gain powerful arm upgrades, traverse different areas within an advanced Mesoamerican metropolis and encounter all sorts of characters to uncover ancient secrets. Aztech Forgotten Gods soars onto Nintendo Switch this fall.

There is No Game: Wrong Dimension from Draw Me A Pixel: Despite its title, this really is a game! There is No Game: Wrong Dimension is a point-and-click comedy adventure filled with riddles and puzzles. If you’re looking for something different and experimental that’s full of surprises, look no further. There is No Game: Wrong Dimension launches for Nintendo Switch … later today!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge from Tribute Games: With a blend of retro and modern visuals, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge finds the four favorite turtles kicking some serious shell in classic arcade-style beat-’em-up action. Up to four players can play locally* or online in this bodacious game developed by Tribute Games and published by Dotemu, who also published Streets of Rage 4 and Wonder Boy: The Dragon’s Trap. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge launches for Nintendo Switch later this year.

Cris Tales from Dreams Uncorporated and SYCK: Drawing inspiration from classic and modern JRPGs, Cris Tales incorporates time traveling into its storyline and combat with a variety of surprise effects, like making enemies younger and thus easier to defeat. While exploring this handcrafted, dark fairy-tale world, you’ll recruit a diverse cast of allies and discover new realms. Cris Tales lands on Nintendo Switch on July 20.

GetsuFumaDen: Undying Moon from Konami Digital Entertainment and GuruGuru: Showcasing a stylized Japanese aesthetic, GetsuFumaDen: Undying Moon delivers a dynamic hack-and-slash roguelite experience, filled with perilous dungeons, fierce boss battles and intense, skill-based combat. GetsuFumaDen: Undying Moon launches for Nintendo Switch next year.

Beasts of Maravilla Island from Banana Bird Studios, LLC: In this 3D adventure game, take on the role of a young wildlife photographer who traverses Maravilla Island’s magical ecosystems to discover extraordinary creatures, learn their behaviors and, most importantly, photograph their majesty. Beasts of Maravilla Island launches for Nintendo Switch in June.

Skul: The Hero Slayer from SouthPAW Games: Take on an entire army to rescue your king in this 2D fast-action roguelite. And the best part? To progress in the game, you’ll need to swap abilities, which is done by swapping … heads! With 90 playable character variations, each with their own special abilities, you might think you’re out of your skull in real life! Skul: The Hero Slayer launches for Nintendo Switch this summer.

art of rally from Funselektor Labs Inc.: Will you master the art of rally? Drive iconic cars inspired by the golden era of rally racing on challenging stages through stylized environments set around the world. art of rally launches for Nintendo Switch this summer.

KeyWe from Stonewheat & Sons: KeyWe is a cute, cooperative postal puzzler starring two small kiwi birds working in a whimsical post office. They must jump, flap and butt-slam across an interactive landscape of levers, bells and buttons to get those messages delivered on time! KeyWe launches for Nintendo Switch in August.

ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights from Binary Haze Interactive: In this dark fantasy 2D action-RPG, encounter horrific enemies against whom a moment of inattention could be fatal. Overcome these hardships and seek the truth with the help of fallen knights. ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights launches for Nintendo Switch on June 21.

Weaving Tides from Follow the Feathers: Call your Weaver and soar across a stunning woven landscape. Set out on a journey to explore ancient dungeons, solve puzzles, wrap up your foes and unravel the great mysteries of a long-forgotten past. Weaving Tides, a charming single-player adventure set in a world of magic and textile, launches for Nintendo Switch in May.

Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective from Darjeeling: Adapted from the children’s book series, Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective takes you across incredibly detailed mazes to retrieve a powerful artifact. On your quest, you will interact with more than 500 items or characters, find over 100 hidden objects and wander about in beautiful locations. Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective launches for Nintendo Switch this spring.

THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD: Remake from Forever Entertainment: The classic arcade rail-shooter is back with a new makeover and exciting gameplay changes! In this multiplayer game, you’ll suit up as a pair of government agents sent to investigate disappearances only to find hordes of undead monstrosities. THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD: Remake launches for Nintendo Switch later this year.

[anastpaul]

Saints of the Day – Feast of The Three Archangels – 29 September

The liturgy celebrates the feast of these three archangels who are venerated in the tradition of the Church.   Michael (Who is like God?) was the archangel who fought against Satan and all his evil angels, defending all the friends of God.   He is the protector of all humanity from the snares of the devil.   Gabriel (Strength of God) announced to Zachariah the forthcoming birth of John the Baptist and to Mary, the birth of Jesus.   His greeting to the Virgin, “Hail, full of grace,” is one of the most familiar and frequent prayers of the Christian people.   Raphael (Medicine of God) is the archangel who took care of Tobias on his journey.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that, “[T]he existence of the spiritual, non-corporeal beings that Sacred Scripture usually calls “angels” is a truth of faith.   The witness of Scripture is as clear as the unanimity of Tradition.”

Angels are pure, created spirits.   The name angel means servant or messenger of God.Angels are celestial or heavenly beings, on a higher order than human beings.   Angels have no bodies and do not depend on matter for their existence or activity.   They are distinct from saints, which men can become.   Angels have intellect and will and are immortal.   They are a vast multitude but each is an individual.   Archangels are one of the nine choirs of angels listed in the Bible.   In ascending order, the choirs or classes are 1) Angels, 2) Archangels, 3) Principalities, 4) Powers, 5) Virtues, 6) Dominations, 7) Thrones, 8) Cherubim, and 9) Seraphim.

St Michael The name of the archangel Michael means, in Hebrew, who is like unto God? and he is also known as “the prince of the heavenly host.”   He is usually pictured as a strong warrior, dressed in armour and wearing sandals.   His name appears in Scripture four times, twice in the Book of Daniel and once each in the Epistle of St Jude and the Book of Revelation.   From Revelation we learn of the battle in heaven, with St. Michael and his angels combating Lucifer and the other fallen angels (or devils).   We invoke St Michael to help us in our fight against Satan;  to rescue souls from Satan, especially at the hour of death;  to be the champion of the Jews in the Old Testament and now Christians;  and to bring souls to judgment.

Patronages:  Against temptations; against powers of evil; artists; bakers; bankers; battle; boatmen; cemeteries; coopers; endangered children; dying; Emergency Medical Technicians; fencing; grocers; hatmakers; holy death; knights; mariners; mountaineers; paramedics; paratroopers; police officers; radiologists; sailors; the sick; security forces; soldiers; against storms at sea; swordsmiths; those in need of protection; Brussels, Belgium; Caltanissett, Sicily; Cornwall, England; Diocese of Pensacola-Tallahassee Florida; England; Germany; Archdiocese of Mobile, Alabama; Papua, New Guinea; Puebla, Mexico; San Miguel de Allende, Mexico; Sibenik, Croatia; Archdiocese of Seattle, Washington; Diocese of Springfield, Massachusetts.

Attributes: Angel with wings; dressed in armour; lance and shield; scales; shown weighing souls; millstone; piercing dragon or devil; banner charged with a dove; symbolic colours orange or gold.

St Gabriel St Gabriel’s name means “God is my strength”.   Biblically he appears three times as a messenger.   He had been sent to Daniel to explain a vision concerning the Messiah.  He appeared to Zachary when he was offering incense in the Temple, to foretell the birth of his son, St John the Baptist.   St Gabriel is most known as the angel chosen by God to be the messenger of the Annunciation, to announce to mankind the mystery of the Incarnation.

The angel’s salutation to our Lady, so simple and yet so full of meaning, Hail Mary, full of grace, has become the constant and familiar prayer of all Christian people.

Patronages: Ambassadors; broadcasting; childbirth; clergy; communications; diplomats; messengers; philatelists; postal workers; public relations; radio workers; secular clergy; stamp collectors; telecommunications; Portugal; Archdiocese of Seattle, Washington.

Attributes: Archangel; sceptre and lily; MR or AM shield; lantern; mirror; olive branch; scroll with words Ave Maria Gratia Plena; Resurrection trumpet; shield; spear; lily; symbolic colours, silver or blue.

St Raphael Our knowledge of the Archangel Raphael comes to us from the book of Tobit.   His mission as wonderful healer and fellow traveller with the youthful Tobias has caused him to be invoked for journeys and at critical moments in life. Tradition also holds that Raphael is the angel that stirred the waters at the healing sheep pool in Bethesda.   His name means “God has healed” or “medicine of God.”.

Patronages: Blind; bodily ills; counselors; druggists; eye problems; guardian angels; happy meetings; healers; health inspectors; health technicians; love; lovers; mental illness; nurses; pharmacists; physicians; shepherds; against sickness; therapists; travellers; young people; young people leaving home for the first time; Archdiocese of Dubuque, Iowa; Archdiocese of Seattle, Washington.

Attributes: Staff; wallet and fish; staff and gourd; archangel; young man carrying a staff; young man carrying a fish; walking with Tobias; holding a bottle or flask; symbolic colours, gray or yellow.

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(via AnaStpaul – Breathing Catholic)

[eater-ofwords]

Entering the facility without authorization had been surprisingly effortless. A well-timed interception of the postal service had Nyx dissolving into a flood of vocabulary neatly printed across otherwise pristine page; the words tasting like pure nectar as his temporary transformation allows him to breathe and fizzle on words of importance and professionalism. Everything has the aroma of bleach - sanitized and clinical. That is how he knows he has made it.

Materializing is swift. Pain free. He tumbles into a petite, spotless office coated in sleek white paint and metallic fixtures. A small device perched precariously beside his face p u f f s a sweet, fragrant, flowery scent. The pleasant smell calms his senses, settles his aching mind. Makes his surroundings seem less... damned.

The plastered wall behind him is covered by an abundance of personal decorations and flower-shaped corkboards, each petal housing cheerful magazine clippings and motivational quotes; they are held on by glittered pushpins which gleam beneath fluorescent lighting. Swinging high across the cornice are individually sewn paper lilies and vibrant leaves, adding color and flair to an otherwise frosty cubicle. A little insight into the mind of those who work at such a questionable facility - how human they are.

Scattered across an otherwise tidy desk sits a petite collection of photographs and polaroids. Each one depicting a pretty blonde with a warm and captivating smile and eyes which ripple with kindness. In every photo she is joined by a young man whose hand always captures her own, his grin mischievous but charming. And in most pictures there is a furry critter not far behind, all pink tongued and petite pawed. They all look happy. They look whole.

Just beside the pictures sits a comically large card decorated by foil balloons and with large words scrawled boldly in a gaudy fuchsia font across its center; ‘Congratulations!’. Distracted by his own curiosity, Nyx digs his thumb inside the fold of the card, pushes it open to peek inside, reading the words illustrated inside without allowing his greed to take over. ‘Congratulations on your engagement, Hayley!’

Hayley. Ms Hayley West. The name printed across the letter he took solace within, typed words temporarily etched within his mind in a confetti of varied importance; holidays granted. professionalism. excellent worth ethic. Nothing but positives.

Hayley, it seems, has quite the life. A kind and content type of existence. One which is effortless and passionate and ultimately f r e e . She has a family to love who undoubtedly love her back. She has friends which shower her with affection and support and colleagues who strive to make her life easier. What a sensation. How miraculous that must feel.

But where’s his family? Where’s his colleagues? Where’s his... anybody? It’s an impossibly lonely existence when you cannot fathom where you came from, how you came to be, and where you belong. All boxes left without a tick and his head permanently scratched. He came here for answers - not to admire the decor and certainly not to allow the emerald monsters inside his stomach to fester.

Distracted, all caught up in the tumultuous twister which is his rampant thoughts, Nyx does not quite register the sound of the office door open. Nor Hayley’s sharp intake of breath. He simply hears the blood-curdling scream which bursts from her open lips. And he panics. He’s not safe when he panics.

It takes a mere nanosecond before his instincts take over. Thick, gelatinous tendrils of ink begin to swirl around her pale throat like a rubberized noose, painting her nostrils and pouring down her arms in a rather vicious attack. She attempts to shriek again but the sound comes out all smothered and bubbling, her body buckling onto the floor as her ankles become submerged in a wrap of blackness. All that shimmering blonde hair suddenly lost in a swirl of inky black fury.

And Nyx is horrified. He drops to his knees and wrestles toward her, treading in his own misery as her desperately tries to swipe the stain from her mouth and allow her to breathe.

“P-Please, wait! I... shit, this isn’t... I got you!”

Hayley’s wrist twists through her forced prison, flapping about in a desperate attempt for purchase; she finds it at the end of her waistband, rapidly tapping on plastic device strung over her hip. With a click she signals a facility-wide alarm, the sound of which resonates with an uncomfortably loud shriek and causes Nyx’s ears to b u r n.

But he does not try to flee. Not now. He simply fights to keep Hayley breathing even as a team force their way through the door.