#he was wearing a capelet to show time had passed

[unit2282]

Hey girls.

Heard there was some new things to study.

[theninjamouse]

3, 12, 40? With the shoregrillster trio? In any combination you like

3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

12. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

40. A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

This is going under a cut because one, it got hecking long and two, it got mildly SPICY. Nothing explicit but you have been warned

Parties are....they’re supposed to be at least a little fun, right?

When it was announced that Gaster’s work on a new environment friendly, cost effective and all around sick public transportation design had been accepted by the city council, there was also the call to a party to celebrate the occasion. You’re beyond happy for Gaster, for his accomplishments in finally getting more steps taken to integrate monster magic into human technology on a world changing scale.

But holy crap, this party is boring.

Calling it a party at all is being generous. It’s just an excuse for people of ‘classier’ society to act like they’re taking part in something grand and to show off how fancy they are by sipping at cocktails and standing around pretending to care about what the other party goers bring up for conversation. But it is an important part of getting full funding for the project, as well as schmoozing up to anyone who might open up lanes for future development, so here you all are.

The majority people here are humans that you don’t recognize in the slightest aside from the occasional ‘oh it’s...that guy. Yeah’. There are a handful of monsters from the science and tech division all involved on the project. They’re mostly keeping to themselves, nervously socializing as little as possible.

Sans was here at some point. You don’t doubt he’s snuck off to find a corner to snooze in, if he hasn’t left the party outright at this point.

Lucky jerk.

However, you will admit, there is an upside to this whole thing. Gaster is not usually one to dress up. At least, not in any level aside from his beloved lab coat that you highly doubt contains more than a scrap of the original material thanks to all the repairs that have had to be done on it.

He’s been talked out of the lab coat and is instead wearing an utterly dashing three piece suit of the deepest purple you’ve ever seen captured by fabric. From the distance between where you’re leaning up against a pillar to rest your feet and him being caught in a circle of engineering heads pelting him with questions, the suit looks black until he shifts and the light catches the lines of shimmering purple.

You sip appreciatively at your drink, eyes taking in the way the suit fits his skeletal frame. Perhaps the night won’t be so boring after all.

“He cleans up really good,” you muse as the air to your left grows warm. “Almost makes the feral cat fuss he made about getting in the suit worth it.”

“Says you; I had to actually drag him out of bed while you were in the shower. He actually tore holes in my sheets.” Grillby leans against the wall as well, offering you a plate of ‘fancy people food’ he snagged from one of the wandering waiters.

Ah, you were wondering about those. You take a piece, not exactly sure what the heck it even is and pop it in your mouth. Your expression twists. “How is it that rich people food always looks so good but tastes like sour air and dried regret?”

“I’m still working that out myself.” Grillby finishes off the plate and sighs.

You shift your gaze to Grillby. He too is dressed to the nines, with a deep red button up, a black and gold trimmed waistcoat and matching tie. He always looks good of course but damn if his snazzy outfit isn’t making the worst kind of butterflies flutter in your belly.

“I’ll make us something actually substantial when we get home,” he continues, oblivious to your less than pure gaze skimming over him.

“If Gaster hasn’t imploded by that point.” The poor guy is fidgeting like crazy. It’s difficult for him to be around so much noise and fuss, this you know from experience.

Grillby looks at you, gaze sharpening a bit as his eyes trail over your outfit. Said outfit for the night is a deep blue one piece, sleeveless suit dress. The smooth material hugs your frame just enough to offer a hint at the form underneath and is blanketed by a sheer capelet that rests over your bare shoulders and gathers together at your waist with a thick belt.

The intensity of Grillby’s staring sends a delightful thrill of heat up your spine. “I guess I clean up alright too,” you murmur, brows lifting teasingly.

“’Nice’ is not quite the word I’d use.” He’s moved closer, plate of food discarded and hand rising to rest rather low on your hip. “Ravishing. Tempting. Something like that.” His head has tilted down, eyes fixated on your mouth.

You pull a goofy face at him, because if you don’t, you’re pretty sure your face will burst under the growing blush in your cheeks. “That’s me, the ultimate temptation.”

He’s not deterred by your teasing. He merely glances around just enough to see if anyone is currently looking your way before his grip tightens and he presses a warm kiss to your lips. It’s soft and gentle and a smile easily comes to your face as you kiss him chastely back.

Then-oh his mouth opens, and you quite forget about your boredom and the fact that your feet are killing you and the taste of bland rich people food on your tongue because Grillby tastes so much better. Your hands rise, gripping the edges of his waistcoat, pulling him closer to you and he makes a sound deep in his throat that urges your mouth to move faster, go deeper-

A laugh rings out, clear and far too close and Grillby jumps like he’s been shocked, pulling away with an eruption of blue over his face. Both of you guiltily look over towards the noise but it would seem that it was just someone laughing at a point in conversation. No one is staring in aghast mortification at the social faux pas.

A little breathlessly, you giggle. “Wow, how scandalous of you. We’re out in the open and everything.”

He shoots you a heated look. “You kissed me back.”

“You used tongue, you cheater!”

He flushes a brighter blue, but you can’t help but notice that his hand remains firmly on your hip. This isn’t fair, stupid party, stupid crowd….

An idea sparks in your heat addled brain. A dumb idea but, well, you’re rather past the point of caring too much.

You press up closer to him again, eyes darting out over the crowd for the briefest moment. You dance your fingers up his buttons. “Why don’t we go rescue Gaster? I think we could all use a... social recharging?”

He blinks and the soft “oh” that escapes him when he realizes what you’re getting at gets your ears burning.

But he doesn’t say no. In fact, he simply nods quickly, steps back and offers you his arm, which you gratefully take. Heels suck and your ankles are not pleased with you. “You want to take the lead?”

“Absolutely,” you say with only a touch of a manic grin actually reaching your face.

Gaster looks on the verge of whipping into a ranting frenzy or throwing an actual punch as the two of you approach. The human speaking to him is going on about engine semantics or something. Incorrectly, going by the promise of violence glinting in Gaster’s eye sockets.

“Pardon me,” you say with syrupy sweetness, cutting off the man speaking. All heads turn, faces going blank with subdued irritation at the interruption. “I need to borrow the good doctor for a bit. Doctor Gaster?”

Gaster inclines his head. “Excuse me,” he says with the sincerity of a child apologizing for stealing cookies. You swap to hold onto his arm and let him sweep you out of the ballroom, Grillby following on your heels.

“You are an angel,” Gaster groans. “Those imbeciles were trying to convince me to add in ‘a profitable angle’ to the design. Pigs.”

“I think that’s an insult to pigs.” You carefully look him over. “Are you holding up okay?”

He sighs heavily, coming to a stop out in the hallway where the only person present is a coat attendant lost in a book.

“Objectively, yes” he says, rubbing at his skull. “I just wish Asgore did not insist on me staying and playing nice with these people.”

“Sounds like it’s just been a big pain.”

Grillby tugs on your arm.

“It is!” Gaster proclaims, sweeping his free arm back towards the ballroom. “Vultures! Well…most of them are, there was actually a rather fascinating young man who had his facts mixed up but the core of his idea was not a bad one—”

Grillby tugs harder.

“Mmhm,” you hum, raising your eyebrows at Grillby. Just because you can, you let your tongue dart out over your lips for the briefest of moments.

He looks as frustrated as a fire could possibly be. Were the coat attendant not glancing up over the edge of his book, he probably would have scooped the two of you up and gone to work right there.

“Uh, is something wrong?” Gaster, finally noticing the agitated flick of Grillby’s flames, looks between the two of you.

“Well, we’re both kind of…hmm, how to be nice about it…bored? Sorry,” you pat Gaster’s arm. “I know it’s your special night.”

“That’s fine, I’m quite bored myself,” Gaster says dryly.

“Oh perfect!” you chirp brightly. You glance to Grillby and smile slyly. “We had a thought about how to recharge our batteries. As it were.”

Not for the first time, Gaster displays an impressive ability to give the look of raising eyebrows without any actual, yanno, eyebrows. “Do tell?”

“It’s not really a tell so much as a show-oop!”

Grillby’s run out of patience. His hands land on both yours and Gaster’s backs, urging you forward and down the hall. The coat attendant is very pointedly Not Looking as you pass by. Grillby must have done recon or something when you first got here because he seems to know exactly where he’s heading. He takes you down a small flight of stairs and round a corner that leads to a small room that’s empty save for a few boxes stacked against one wall and some unused furniture.

And just your luck, it’s unlocked.

Going by the rising purple on Gaster’s face, he’s caught on to what exactly your ‘recharging’ idea is. “Uh-um, yes I—”

“I didn’t have much of a chance to say it earlier.” Your arm slips smoothly away from his and you turn to him. You have to lift up a bit on your tip toes and pull him down to you to press a kiss against his cheekbone. “You look very handsome tonight. And we are your dates to this thing, and yet we haven’t hardly had a chance to even talk to you.”

Gaster’s blush is now bright enough to nearly compete with Grillby’s flames.

Speaking of Grillby-

He’s moved in behind you, hands dropping to your waist as his mouth descends down on your neck. The heat of his body and fire presses against your back and you have to take a moment to catch your breath.

Gaster’s eye lights have gone wide and bright, flickering with a nervous sort of energy as his gaze darts between you and Grillby. He swallows, though he really has no need for it. “I…this isn’t really the best…what if someone sees…?”

“Then you better move fast,” you murmur. Tugging on his tie, you pull his face down closer. “Kiss me,” you demand breathlessly. “Please?”

There’s a moment where his eye lights shift in such a way it almost looks like they’ve taken on the shape of stars and then Gaster’s hands lift to your face, nearly bonking your nose with his teeth with the speed at which he kisses you. Kissing a skeleton is difficult sometimes, given his lack of lips.

But you’ve had plenty of practice.

One of your hands shifts to pull Gaster closer to you while the other desperately scrambles behind to find purchase on Grillby. His own hands are quite busy, one running gentle circles on your hip and the other moving up, closer to where your chest is pressed up against Gaster’s ribs. His fangs scrape deliciously at your skin, nipping lightly in a way that makes you squirm with a mixture of ticklishness and building heat.

Your hand finds Gaster’s spine, prominent even through his suit and you grab on just below where his ribs end. He jolts at the contact, a breathless curse falling out in a rush of air. Grillby takes the chance to pull away from your neck and captures Gaster’s attention with a heated kiss.

Now quite solidly squished between the two, a soft and breathless noise escapes you as you drink in the building pressure of their bodies, basking in the contrast of Gaster’s silk smooth suit and Grillby’s growing heat. His hands continue to work at your curves, every touch sending a searing wave of warmth over your skin, kneading with a gentle intensity that makes you arch into Gaster.

You have just enough presence of mind left to sputter, “D-don’t tear the capelet.”

He growls, low and deep and oh if that rough and wild sound from such a restrained monster doesn’t make the most embarrassing shuddery moan hum in your own throat. “Take it off then,” he suggests with a tug at the belt around your waist. 

So off it comes, fluttering down the floor, soon joined by Grillby’s more carefully folded waistcoat. Then you find yourself being pulled back, led by him to an armchair covered in a cloth. The force of him sitting makes a heavy whumph sound thanks to your added weight on his lap. 

Gaster had let the two of you slip from his grasp while the extra bits of clothing were being discarded and he watches you now with a face openly full of warm affection. When you grin and beckon at him with a finger, he huffs out a sigh that is probably meant to be taken as annoyed, but just comes off as fond and longing. 

“You two are going to get me in trouble,” he grumbles. “There is a party I’m supposed to be at right now just down the hall, or did you forget?” 

Grillby, busy at work pressing scorching kisses over your bare shoulders, pauses and lifts his head. “So eager to get back, are you?” 

“Not at all. But I’ll be missed if I stay away much longer.” 

You sigh heavily, letting your weight lean back against Grillby’s chest. You might just happen to let your hand trail down to your thigh and lightly run your fingers over the fabric there as you pout at Gaster. 

He’s broken out into a bit of a sweat. 

Sweetly, you plead, “Five more minutes?” 

He stares. He sweats. Then his hand smoothly tugs at his tie and it and his coat joins the other outwear on the ground. “Five more minutes.” 

It winds up being six minutes and forty-two seconds but well. 

Who’s counting?

[sxvxrxssnape]

minerva mcgonagall’s personal mission to make severus love christmas part 4 

aka snolidays/snapemas day 5 and 6 (lights festival, food, memories, stockings) // pre-PS/the years between. minerva and severus friendship // ft. the hogwarts staff gently bullying sev and getting wine drunk together. mentions of sev’s plum blancmange @deepperplexity @blog4snape

The rest of the week passed by in a blur of teaching, brewing, and general sulking. 

The term wouldn’t end until late January, but final exams were scheduled for the week before winter break and Severus had a thousand other things to finalize before the break started. There was a stack of assignments he needed to grade before everyone parted, the annual inventory that needed to be done, and he had about half a dozen cauldrons slowly simmering away with potions for the infirmary, not to mention he was creating both a study guide for the upcoming exam and an assignment that could be turned in for extra credit.

If even one student dared to fail his class after all the effort he put into making sure they passed, he was going to turn them all into frogs. 

He almost felt bad that he hadn’t made much time for Minerva, and aside from seeing each other at meals - and even then, Severus wasn’t quite known for his perfect attendance in the Great Hall - he hadn’t spoken more than eight words to her since their trip to Diagon Alley. 

It wasn’t as if he were avoiding her. 

Much.

He just needed a few days to himself - as much as he could get when he taught two classes a day (three on Wednesdays and Thursdays) anyway. He knew the only reason they hadn’t talked about his miniscule breakdown was because they had been in public and maybe he was a little afraid of being cornered by her in private. 

It was Friday now, his afternoon class had just ended, he had already checked on the status of his cauldrons, so all that was left on his to-do list was to hide himself away inside of his quarters and sulk.

Except he was all out of sugar.

Alright, not the worst problem to have and yes, he could call up a house elf and simply ask for the container to be refilled, but maybe a small part of him wanted to run into Minerva on neutral ground, so he wouldn’t have to knock on her door and risk coming off as lonely and needy. So rather than being a normal-functioning adult about this, he took his coffee ground-filled french press and flooed directly into the staff lounge.

He didn’t spend very much time in this particular room - large, brightly lit, and nestled between two towers somewhere on the fourth floor with large windows that overlooked the quidditch pitch - but it wasn’t for lack of trying. He found the lounge to be rather appealing, with its burning fireplace, sitting area, stacks of abandoned books, journals, and magazines, abundance of cabinets he liked to rifle through, and best of all, the fully stocked coffee bar off to the left of the round table. 

The room wasn’t empty, and unfortunately, devoid of the person whom he was seeking. Pomona was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, poring over a stack of papers with a furrowed brow and a bit of ink smeared over her cheek. Aurora was sitting on the lone couch, momentarily distracted from the magazine she had been leafing through to look up at him as he entered, eyebrow raised at the contraption he cradled. 

“What brings you here?” she asked, flicking her wand towards the record player and lowering the music that had been softly playing.

The action caused the herbology professor to look up and she frowned. “Oh, Severus.” she greeted, barely giving him more than a cursory glance. “I haven’t seen you here in a bit; thought you might have forgotten where it was.”

“Well, he did floo.” Professor Sinistra returned, her lips curling into a grin. “It’s quite possible he forgot where to find the door.”

“I didn’t forget.” Severus scowled, making his way towards the bar. 

“You tell yourself that.”

“There’s tea if you want some.” Pomona called out, raising her own teacup. “Mint.”

He ignored the steaming teapot in favor of the kettle, flicking his wand to heat up the water before pouring a little over the grounds in the press. He missed the simple pleasures of having an electric coffee maker - perhaps the only positive that came from summers at Spinner's End - but he would be lying if he said he didn’t prefer the taste of the pretentious, one-cup-at-a-time brew.

While the grounds took the time to presoak, he wandered over to the pink pastry box and eyed its contents. The house elves always made sure to stock the staff room with snacks - biscuits, fruit, packages of crisps - but pastries from the local bakery were the most sought out after. 

“The blueberry strudel belongs to Filius,” Pomona suddenly mentioned, not looking up from her task, “he’s already claimed it.”

Severus scowled at the remaining treat. “He’s not here, is he?” he mumbled, opening the box. He yelped as something sharp pierced his hand and drew back immediately, his face coloring slightly as Aurora started laughing.

“Like she said,” Aurora chuckled. “Filius already claimed it.” 

Severus cursed under his breath and returned to his coffee, pulling down a clean mug and the sugar jar on the way. He was pouring the rest of the hot water when the door opened. 

“French press again?” Minerva’s voice asked.

“Like he makes it any other way.” Aurora returned. “Professor I-Brew-Potions-For-A-Living is, unsurprisingly, the coffee snob among us.” 

“I am not.” Severus frowned, placing the plunger over the glass and giving it a slight swirl before setting it aside. “It’s not my fault the rest of you don’t have any taste.” 

“Oh, the baby thinks he has taste.” 

Severus blinked. “Perhaps I’ll refrain from giving you a gift this year after all.” he muttered, glaring at her. “Also, you’re the second youngest professor here.”

“But not the youngest.” Aurora grinned. “That pleasure is all yours, I’m afraid.”

Before Severus could form a rebuttal, Pomona stood up and gathered her papers, rushing towards the door with an annoyed, “I can’t get any work done with you two around.” Aurora followed suit, magazine under her arm, a cheeky, “baby” escaping her lips as she closed the door behind her. 

Severus sat down in Pomona’s abandoned chair, hands in his hair, as he groaned out a, “I’m most definitely not giving her a gift now.”

Minerva laughed and sat down across from him, a cup of mint tea in her hands. 

“Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“The lights?”

Minerva nodded and he considered her question as he got up to finish making his coffee. He grabbed milk from the cold cupboard and then stopped to look at her. “What if we went tonight, instead?”

“Tonight?”

Severus shrugged, sitting down with his cup and a package of biscuits. “We can grab dinner beforehand, I’m thinking Italian.”

“Really?”

“Invite some of the others.”

Minerva eyed him carefully. “Do my ears deceive me, Severus Snape, or are you suggesting a staff outing to see the lights? You?”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll let everybody know.” 

--

“I think we should hang the stockings in the staff room.”

“What?”

“The stockings.” Minerva emphasized, buttoning her capelet. She was standing in front of her dressing mirror, adjusting the green tartan fabric over her shoulders. She was wearing a long sleeved dress under it and, no doubt, a warming charm had already been cast over the black fabric. Her hair was free of its usual pins, the soft curls seemingly trying their best to retain their accustomed shape. 

They were both in her private quarters, Severus sprawled on her couch with a book, as she finished getting ready for their outing. He had opted for his usual black on black on black, but had foregone his cloak for the grey wool coat he rarely wore. 

So rarely, that when he put his hands in his pockets, he came across the crumpled ticket of a play he had seen two winters ago. 

He couldn’t remember much about the show itself, but it had been the first time he had been invited to go out by his fellow colleagues and he had jumped at the chance. Of course, he had first pretended to consider it for half a day before telling Albus that he had nothing better to do that day and that he might as well tag along.

“Are you listening?”

“No.” Severus admitted, returning to the present. 

Minerva scowled. “I said, we should hang the stockings we bought in the staff room. It’s got a fireplace and the room is awfully drab, don’t you think? Plus, it's neutral ground so both our stockings can be up together.”

“Well, alright.”

“Excellent, let’s go then.”

“Now?”

“We have dinner reservations at seven - which is in twenty minutes, I might add - so yes, right now. Before we’re late.”

They flooed into the staff lounge, finding Aurora leafing through a book and listening to music once again. She raised an eyebrow at the paper shopping bag they were carrying. 

“What’s this?”

“Christmas.” Minerva replied simply, pulling out a stocking and handing it over. His name was now stitched along the edge in black thread and he frowned. 

“When did-?”

“I asked the house elves when we first got back.”

They hung their stockings on the mantle with a temporary sticking charm and surveyed their work. 

“I expect the rest of you to have a stocking on here by next week.” Minerva insisted, taking Severus’ hand and leading him out the door. “Come now, or we’ll be late.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Severus asked Aurora, pretending to eye her teaching robes in confusion. “We’re going out to dinner and then the lights festival.”

Aurora scowled at him, eyeing him carefully. “I would, but I have a class tonight.” she muttered, glancing out the window at the darkened sky. It was cloudless and few stars could be seen from her vantage point; there was no reason to cancel Astronomy tonight.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Severus shrugged, turning around quickly to hide his smirk. “I wouldn’t have chosen tonight if I knew.”

“Liar.” 

The door closed behind them. 

“You know I don’t approve of this.” Minerva told him, as they made their way down the stairs and out of the castle. 

“Don’t approve of what?”

Minerva shook her head at him, but didn’t answer.

They met Filius at the front door, his too-long blue scarf trailing behind him as they made their way towards the apparition point. They met Pomona on the way and once they cleared the wards, apparated into an alley close to the restaurant. 

Albus was already waiting inside, looking perfectly at ease in his three-piece suit, sipping on a glass of white wine.

“Ah, there you all are.” he greeted them, as they took their seats. “This wine is absolutely wonderful, by the way - do order a glass.”

“Someone dressed up for the occasion.” Minerva eyed the headmaster.

“I wear it quite well, don’t I?”

They were brought water glasses and bread, offered three types of wine - “I really must insist on the pinot gris.” Albus interrupted - and given a set of menus.

“It’s been a while since we’ve all gone out.” Filius mentioned, taking a slice of baguette and dipping it in olive oil and balsamic. “It’s quite nice.”

“We have Severus to thank for the idea,” Albus grinned, clasping a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, but he didn’t think anyone noticed. 

Except for Albus, who immediately dropped his hand and offered an apologetic look. 

They ordered - and unsurprisingly, Minerva ordered herself the special - and fell into easy conversation as they waited for their meal. When the food arrived, it was met with excited sounds from the (perhaps a little wine-tispy) table and plates were quickly passed around with insistent, “You need to try this fried stracchino!” and “I swear, you will never taste a better beef stracotto pasta than this one.” and even a, “Listen, I know it sounds weird, but I’m telling you - you have to try the baccala! I don’t care if you don’t like fish!” 

The dessert menu left him a little discombobulated and he ordered himself coffee while the others shared rum babas and marzipan balls. One of the rum soaked sponge cakes was pushed towards him, split down the middle and filled with cream and sour cherries. He glanced up from his bicerin to find Minerva watching him.

“Try it, before these vultures get to it.” 

He obliged, cutting a piece off with his fork. 

“Why are you frowning?” Minerva asked, leaning closer. The others were a little pink-faced, laughing, as they played a game of rock-parchment-diffundo for the last chocolate and marzipan ball. “We are eating delicious food and drinking delicious wine - two things I know you like - and then we’re going to see the lights with all our friends. You shouldn’t be frowning.”

“I think you’ve had enough wine.” 

She made a face at him. “Oh, let me guess.” she pursed her lips. “You have some sort of traumatic childhood memory involving all of this and you are currently reliving it in your head.”

Severus scowled. “I don’t have a traumatic memory for everything.”

“Could have fooled me.” Pomona spoke up, inserting herself into their conversation. The others stopped and turned to look at him. “You’re so grumpy all the time, I just figured your whole life was simply continuous trauma.”

“I’ll revoke your christmas gift too, don’t test me.”

Pomona straightened up. “Oh, you got me a gift?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie!” Pomona grinned, pointing at him. “You got me a gift!”

“Don’t think you’re special.” Severus muttered. “It’s not just you.”

“Severus got us all gifts!” Filius realized. “Severus loves us!”

He made eye contact with the headmaster. “Consider this my official resignation.”

Albus nodded, his expression turning serious. “Of course, my boy, I understand.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s a shame my staff cannot be more professional when they venture out of the castle walls, but alas, there is a reason I do not let them wander far.” 

“Truly awful.”

“Severus loves us!” Pomona repeated and the table burst into giggles, save for Severus who covered his face with his hands. And he was the youngest of this lot?

They paid soon after that - Severus discretely cancelling the silencing and repelling charms they had cast on their table to hurry them along - and made their way towards the nearby park where the lights festival had been set up. The others wandered off on their own, leaving Minerva and Severus to walk the paths alone. 

Once the others had wandered far enough ahead that their conversation would no longer carry, Minerva learned slightly into her friend, nudging his shoulder. “Now will you tell me?”

“It’s not a traumatic childhood memory, if that’s what you mean.”

“But you did remember something.” Minerva pressed. 

“Yes.”

The path they walked was illuminated by tiny orbs, leading towards a tunnel strung with hundreds of white and blue lights. As they walked through it, Severus fell silent and simply looked up, sneaking glances of the night sky beyond the wire cage that held up all the lights. 

There was a giant christmas tree waiting for them when they exited the tunnel, made entirely of green and gold twinkles - strings of lights pulled taut from a metal pole and pinned onto the ground. Similar displays surrounded it, contraptions of metal and colored lights creating bow-tied gift boxes and ornaments, stars and snowflakes, all glowing in the dark. 

All the natural trees were wrapped in lights as well, not a single twig or branch left uncovered. Giant, glowing candy canes dotted the path now and they followed it, taking in every sparkling display. Music was playing and though others wandered the path, no one stood too close. 

“I remember my mum used to make this dessert when I was little, it was a blancmange made from dirigible plum and cardamom, I believe." 

"Oh?"

"She used to tell my father they were persimmons." he smiled softly. "Said she learned the recipe from her grandmother. It was probably my favorite part of the holiday break. I helped her make it one year; funnily enough, that was also the last Christmas I had with her."

"You said it wasn't a traumatic memory." Minerva scolded. 

"It's not." Severus defended himself. "It's one of my only good ones."

"There was blancmange on the menu." Minerva remembered, smiling sadly. She watched a pair of children run between the candy canes, their laughs echoing as they chased each other. 

"Fig leaf and orange." Severus recited. "It made me realize I haven't seen anywhere serve that particular dessert, let alone one made from dirigible plums. I miss it."

"Perhaps we could make it."

"You think?"

"Why not?" 

Minerva nodded towards a coffee stall and they ordered themselves the gingerbread hot chocolate. They cradled their red paper cups and took small sips as they wandered through the park, pointing out certain displays. 

"Perhaps nostalgia is getting the best of me." Severus finally circled back to their conversation. "But I find myself wanting to try. I don't have much left to remind me of her, especially not without also thinking of my father, but that one? That one's all ours."

"Elphinstone and I used to make a yule log cake." Minerva offered. "Down to the mushroom meringues and everything."

"I've never had one."

"Well, perhaps a baking day is in order."

"Perhaps it is." 

-----

a/n: this is starting to feel more like minerva and severus' adventures in eating out

hope you enjoyed the staff picking on my problem child a little

menu inspiration comes from bocca di lupo, london (sometimes i wonder if places ever search themselves to see what people are saying and find they're being featured in harry potter fanfics and the like)

stracchino - a soft, creamy cheese which the restuarant serves fried stracotto - italian pot roast, served with pasta here baccala - preserved, salted cod (fried) bicerin - a hot drink made from espresso, drinking chocolate, and milk blancmange - this one's special because i took a direct quote from the hogwarts mystery game, where sev reminisces about this dessert and gave it more backstory. its a sort of gelatin dessert, sweet and milky. bocca di lupo has a fig and orange panna cotta on their menu, which is basically the same thing (just different thickeners) so i traded it out for the sake of using the one tidbit i know about the game.

[recurring-polynya]

I think it’s pretty evident by now that I am something of a connoisseur of Bleach filler. Like greatness, this is not a thing I have chosen for myself, it is just a thing that has been thrust upon me. And to that end, I need you to know that Bleach #147-149 is the template on which all other filler should be built. I love it. It’s perfect.

I’ve chosen to group it in with the Advance Team Filler, even though it really takes place during the early Hueco Mundo arc. There’s more HM filler much, much later, but it’s after the Cap’n Amagai filler arc, and I feel like this fits more thematically with the Advance Team filler. Also, all the other members of the Advance Team got their own episode and these are Rukia’s.

These episodes are everything I wanted #136-137 to be. One thing that I always want in filler is shitty bad guys who are way below our heroes’ usual standard. I get enough of Ichigo training and tapping into his inner strength during the canon parts. When I’m watching filler, I only want to see him whale on some throwaway villains. The Fullbringer Arc is not actually filler, but it has Big Filler Energy, and Zaraki killing that butler dude in half a second is the most gratifying part of it. 

So, let’s jump in:

We’re in Hueco Mundo, Rukia and Renji have just showed up in their sweet capes, everyone is riding around on Bawabawa. Runuganga, the huge sand dude they defeated last episode, shows up again (he’s made of sand, so he can never die, I guess?) Rukia tries to Second Dance him, but she’s standing on Bawabawa during the part of the attack where the blades go down into the ground, they go into poor Bawabawa instead and he freaks out (and then Renji scolds her, it’s beautiful). Runuganga then makes a sand whirlpool and the process of falling into it, Rukia falls off Bawabawa and gets separated from everyone else as they fall down into the ::Forest::of::the::Menos:: (end reverb)

Everyone in this filler is extremely stupid, but it’s okay, because it doesn’t matter, in fact, it is charming and hilarious. There’s some physical comedy of the Great Desert Brothers falling on Ichigo’s head, Ishida holds forth on Hueco Mundo flora, and literally like 10 minutes pass before Renji notices Rukia is gone and everyone’s like “Whaaaaaa? Rukia, whaaaaat?” They go looking for her, and once again, I cannot emphasize enough that Ichigo and Renji are just Jason-from-the-Good-Place level morons in this episode. Ichigo theorizes that perhaps Rukia is so light that she has been blown away and Renji is all aboard his idiot train.

So, where is Rukia, anyway? She lands somewhere else and immediately gets attacked by Hollows. She’s not really having any trouble holding them off when this dude in a stinky cape covered in Hollow skulls shows up and “saves” her. It’s like this guy saw Renji’s bankai capelet, and said, “this, but cocktail length with extra skulls.” He takes Rukia back to his bachelor cave, where he has cubbies full of mushrooms and a sweet kidou lamp he made himself. Rukia realizes he is a shinigami and yells “WHAT’S YOUR SQUAD?” at him a bunch. He takes off his mask to reveal that he is in fact, dreamy. His name is Ashido and he is Extremely Rukia’s Type, by which I mean he is tall, has spikey hair, and is not very bright.

We get a flashback of Ashido’s sad origin story: he and a bunch of his squad members followed some Hollows back through a Garganta and got stuck in Hueco Mundo. He figures that he can do more good exterminating Hollows where they live rather than trying to get home, so they stay there and fight Hollows until all his friends are dead. Oops. The very sexy Hollow Zorak skull he wears as a mask was in fact, the head of the Hollow who killed his last friend. He uses Hollow skulls to deflect ceros which seems… useful? And sort of made up? As he’s telling this story, the camera pans out and there are a bunch of graves? And he’s like, “I wanted to tell you this story in front of my friends so they could hear the voice of a shinigami again.” Rukia, of course, is like “Ahhhh cool cool cool cool cool cool, no doubt, no doubt” as if she doesn’t also have a hill of friend graves that she likes to pose in front of. He asks Rukia if they have noticed a decrease in Hollows in the Living World due to his efforts and Rukia refuses to answer or to make eye contact. He then observes that some weird crap has been going on lately, did something happen in Soul Society? and Rukia is like “So many things happen in Soul Society, it’s basically unknowable.” Rukia is my queen and president, I love her.

Asido then observes that some morons with too much reiatsu seems to be fighting nearby and attracting every Hollow in the vicinity. Rukia is like, yeah, they’re mine. As they head off in that direction, they get attacked by Hollows and Ashido relives his entire flashback again, but in negative colors. Baller move, Filler Episode.

Some other stuff has happened-- Chad and Ishida rode Bawabawa up a tree? Nel and her Fraccion got kidnapped by the Hollows whom Aizen has allegedly put in charge of the Forest of Menos? I feel like Aizen just said that to get rid of them, these guys are more like some over-enthusiastic Steelers fans you accidentally sat next to at the bar than actual villains. All this is slightly boring, except for two things:

1. Everyone has started treating Bawabawa like Lassie, where he goes “BAWABAWAWAWABAWA” and someone will reply to him like he’s a person, “Nel has been kidnapped? She’s stuck in the old abandoned well?” I love Bawabawa so much, I love yelling “BAWABAWA”, and I never once got sick of this gag, not even for a second.

2. As you might expect, the Forest of Menos is full of Menos. Hundreds of Menos. Pantsloads of Menos. You may remember a million episodes ago, when Ichigo still had Rukia’s powers, and he had to tie his sword to Ishida’s head in order to defeat a Menos. Those days are over. Menos are bowling pins now. Ichigo and the gang are just annihilating Menos. Menos corpses everywhere. Chad punches a Menos in the foot and it dies. I’m pretty sure Renji deflects a cero with his bare arm and then kills like 30 Menos who are standing in a line, which makes them very convenient to run over with Hihiou Zabimaru. Ashido has been down here for *hundreds of years* trying to reduce the number of Hollows, and it’s clear that the Karakura Kids + Renji could clear this place out in an afternoon and still have the energy to go Cosmic Bowling afterwards.

Meanwhile, Rukia and Ashido run into Ashido’s old nemesis, the Boss Hollow of the Forest. Ashido fights him dramatically for a while, and then he makes a bad deflection and the guy is about to hit Rukia, “RUUUUUKIIAAAAA NOOOOOOO!”, mantis skull flashback *again.*  And here is where this episode becomes next level, because Rukia goes to shikai and just goes ham on the guy, and you realize that she has been slumming this entire time. Ashido is a joke. He doesn’t even have shikai. Rukia is so much better than him and the only explanation for this is that she’s been letting him look cool because she wants to tap that. Ashido just accepts this, and I assume this is the point where they have mediocre Hueco Mundo sex.

We go back to the boys, who have defeated all the Hollows they could find and found the exit, and are fretting because they still don’t know where Rukia is. Then Rukia just walks up, “Hey guys, what’s going on in this thread?” They all start to leave when one of the Hollows from earlier comes back (you had ONE JOB, Ichigo, everyone else killed their Hollow) with 50 Menos. Keep in mind, based on earlier events, this would take Ishida like 6 seconds to take care of, but Ashido has to dramatically face them himself. There’s a hilarious bit where he turns back to fight the Hollow and Ichigo and Renji run right past him. He can’t even run fast. He’s terrible. Anyway, some rocks start falling and Ichigo and Renji get entranced by them (shiny!) and Ashido jumps past the rockslide to fight the Hollows and is therefore trapped and they have to leave him behind.

Back on the surface, Rukia takes a knee and makes a dramatic speech while Ichigo and Renji stand behind her like good wingmen and press F in chat. It ends with this:

I cannot see this without thinking about that part in Shrek 2 where Shrek says “I promise I shall repay you, unless I can’t find you, or I forget!” Especially because Rukia 100% forgets that Ashido exists and we never see him again.

Advance Team Filler Masterpost

[millimallow]

#2- poppies and cornflowers

the second portion of the fantasy writing anthology i’m working on, focusing on the plainslands.

the ceremony begins at three. no tale of missing persons and dead birds could have deterred me from that moment; my prize after years of work and study. my position was a great burden on me- it meant wandering through sunbitten fields or waterlogged marshes should it be required of me- but i had no hesitation to show, none left in my body. i was ready. and i said it to myself in my mind until the words began to mean nothing anymore: the ceremony begins at three. i was to meet everyone there, and i could not be a minute late.

the story behind the ceremony began what is now perhaps ten years ago. when i had left my education, a rural school located several miles from our lonely village, there had been a celebration in my family. we sat around the oak dining table, next to the fireplace, and covered it with the worn green-with-gold-trim cloth which had been given to my parents as a wedding gift, and there we ate wild-caught pheasant and drank heady molasses beer until my uncle askram could not walk properly. as we lifted his body to the rocking chair to let him rest, all the while his mouth foaming and spitting out garbled sound, my mother turned to me and began to speak.

“you’re going to have to find some work soon.” it was the line i had dreaded hearing. educating me had been a novel idea in the first place, as i was the only child and my father eagerly awaited someone who would assist him with the leatherwork, but my grandparents had insisted on it. now it was over there was not much i could do to hide from this new inevitability. it was not a trade school; as such i had no vital crafting skill that i could put to use. and though i fished in my spare time my mother would often insist that the river dwellers were dirty types, and to avoid them. learning magic was not an option, nor could i leave for the next town over to employ my arithmetic skills. they were also “dirty people” in the town.

“i don’t really know what to do.” askram was mostly limp by this point, yet finally setting him down was a great weight off my shoulders. all i could do was be honest with her about how i felt, regardless of her response.

“you should do what your father does and make leather with him” she responded to me curtly.

“but i don’t know how to make leather.” she tutted in response.

“it’s in your blood, isn’t it? or was all your blood washed out by some teacher up in that shack of yours.” her comment angered me, but i kept my mouth shut and tried to step silently towards the table up until when i heard her voice ring out from behind me.

“did you hear that, everyone? sajorie doesn’t know what she’s going to do for work.” i froze in my tracks, feet pausing before i could tiptoe to the next floorboard. “what a little genius she’s turned out to be!” clearly she had attracted some attention with her words, as everyone else in the house excluding askram had turned to look at her once more except me. my grandfather- my mother’s father, with his wife and my grandmother having passed a few years earlier- sighed and shook his head in response.

“she’s just finished, mirice. give her today for a celebration, why don’t you?”

“because i woke up at six to milk the goats at five years younger than her and didn’t complain for a minute.” he laughed, turning her pale face pink.

“you saved the complaining for after you had to feed the chickens and weed the mint garden. oh, and after you had to read the letter sent by our neighbour complaining of the noise you made chasing after the kid that escaped the day before!” this time the whole table erupted into laughter while my mother’s face only got redder. my other grandmother beckoned me towards her and put her hand firmly on her shoulder when i came.

“there is plenty of work out there for a healthy young girl like you. my sister, your great-aunt, when she was younger- well, she was a courier. the special type with all the bright colours.” like her i could not remember the specific name for the role, but i knew instantly what she was referring to. i had seen them many times before running out behind the bird shed, unable to stop for a second so as to not interrupt their constant pace, and there were the times i saw them delivering letters to my mother at the door. these letters were from far away- travelling relatives or invitations to trade shows- and my mother had a habit of reading them aloud like she had done in her youth. the runners.

“with the floral patterns?” i asked.

“mhm. all dyed for that one purpose. at night, the outlines of the petals light up like fireworks.” suddenly i was young again, barely knee high, listening to her recounting ancestral tales by rote. “it is not easy work, but you can get the hang of it very quickly.”

“the dyeing or the running?”

“the running, my dear.” she whistled for a second. “they taught you to run a field in school, didn’t they?” i nodded, and she tucked a strand of her once-brown grey hair behind her ear. “then you can run even further.”

that was when i knew.

and now i was finally finished, my preparation and training had been exhausted. i was to meet haines and forrel by the burning wooden effigy of a cockerel out in the circle where the grass had been cleared, wearing my crown of poppies and cornflowers, dancing around in a circle as the brightness cast our shadows on tall heather overgrowth and erect wild wheat plants. my grandmother took me by the shoulders once more, called me by my full name, brushed wild seeds from the red capelet i wore.

my name, sajorie cullathan ythes.

[modelronpagame]

Witch-ever Takes Your Fancy || Kaz || Group Fashion Show 2

The last couple of days had been interesting, to say the least. Not bad, thank all that was still right in the world, and yet he couldn’t help but to think that these peaceful times weren’t going to last. Three people had still perished within these walls, with the mascots promising more to come before they would be able to leave here. He’d talked to some, teared up on others, and had a very amusing pool party - they had yet to find out who truly spiked the pool with blue food colouring (and that was a sentence he’d never have expected to monologue to himself ever). But the advent of the Group Fashion Show loomed closer, and with it, another punishment and motive over the horizon. There was no way to avoid the latter, but he’d wanted to avoid unnecessary punishment.

Though now, looking upon the green jacket and gloves, gold bling and gaudy top hat, he wondered if punishment was inevitable. What in the world was this outfit, and why did it remind him of fellow Osaka-based street magician Kris Tenshi? What kind of ethereal material was this?

At least he could wear something else other than his own clothing this time around to the Group Fashion Show. And after a last minute trade with a certain Speedrunner, he’d put together quite the Fancy get-up. Sure, it was a bit weird to go from wearing pants to wearing a skirt for what was now two fashion shows in a row, and heavens forbid he do most of his normal high-energy moves with what he was wearing now, but… well, it did look very cute on him. Plus, he had gotten some very good-looking hair extensions from Selene that allowed his hair to fall in long curls down to his waist from the front. Fixing his capelet, necklace and boutonniere, he couldn’t help but think that he looked somewhat like a fancier version of the resident Spirit Photographer. Hopefully Rowena wouldn’t mind that he was borrowing her style…

Things were going to be a lot easier this time around, Kaz making the choice to eschew style for simplicity. He had made it back across the now-familiar runway to its midpoint, before mimicking drawing a longbow and arrow, leaning backwards slightly and blowing his now-long curls when he pretended to let go, just to simulate the ‘whoosh’ of wind passing by him. He stayed in that pose for a couple of seconds, then resumed striding daintily forward, careful not to fall over in the short platform shoes that the outfit had come with.

When he reached the end of the runway in front of the three judges, he leaned out to one side and stretched out his hand, trying to make it look like he was guiding the arrow in a crescent-moon arc as he turned around with it. Not to let the judges be ignored, he offered them a wink as he walked in place, and went back to looking all prim and proper again once his back was facing them.

And finally, once he had returned back to the midway point, he held up one hand and 'caught’ it, before spinning in place within a flurry of fabric, like the arrow’s momentum had caused him to twirl around. When he had turned to face the judges again, it was with a soft curtsy, the imaginary shaft still clutched in one hand.

Getting back up, Kaz pretended to place the arrow back into its quiver, before making another slight bow and pushing himself off the stage. Thank you and goodnight, may the random number gods above be lenient on his cute goth phase. Whatever that was.

[sparkistories]

4/20/20

HOTEL HELL-ISH

*This will be edited many times. It was a long dream and will need many sessions to complete.

We were on a road trip. We took an exit into a city, seeing a large luxury hotel near the exit, and it had the perfect view to see the city beyond.

We pulled into a parking space near the front entrance. Some of the rooms were hotel-style, others motel suites.

We wanted a room in the hotel. So we asked the concierge to please give us a room away from the elevator so we would not hear every single person staying inside.

The concierge looked confused for a moment. He called a number and muttered a response into the phone. He hung up, saying someone will be with us shortly, then walked away.

We thought that was odd. But waited nonetheless. Soon, the auditor approached. He had a small figure, oddly shaped glasses, and a design drawn onto his bald head. Although he was slight and small, the way he silently approached was intimidating. We thought we were unwelcome to ask for a room to accommodate us.

He just said to follow him. We walked behind him, confused. We still had not paid or made a reservation for a room.

He stopped in front of a large ramp spiraling the 200 floors of the building. We thought is was odd that a hotel this large had so few people in sight. We saw many cars outside, but nobody in the hotel except for this auditor and the concierge.

A giant wheel approached from down the ramp. It appeared attached to a structure running alongside the ramp, the ramp counting up and branching into hallways as it continued. There were some rooms placed along the ramp. But the wheel made no sound as it traversed.

"This is our unique elevator feature. By standards, the ramp provides ample disability accessibility, but we prefer to give them external rooms unless it can be avoided. This elevator keeps you walking along the bottom to help you reach your room. It keeps you healthy but it's faster than walking up alone."

He stepped onto the wheel, standing on the steps toward the back. We climbed in with him, holding our suitcases towards the ramp. When the wheel began moving, it made no sound, but our steps were placed in a wave as we propelled forward, higher and higher.

While walking, I studied the back of the auditor's head, taking a closer look at the symbol drawn. It was pearly white before, but seemed to be gaining color over time.

The wheel stopped on the 45th floor. I noted that the higher up the rooms were, the more elaborate it became. He walked down a hallway painted aqua lined with gold. Some plants lined the halls, none too interesting.

The hallways extended further than the building looked to be from outside. But when he stopped, we were almost to the end of the hallway.

"I trust this room will suit your needs?" He opened the door and the room inside was surprisingly a very accommodating and comfortable suite. It was not lavish, but was elegant enough to be beautiful and far more functional than typical hotels.

"I'm sorry, but what are the rates? We did not book a room downstairs yet, and we didnt mean to call for attention earlier. We just wanted to be able to have a room without waking up to children or dogs from the elevator. We didnt know about that lovely contraption, there. But we don't need anything too fancy."

"It's no trouble. This is your first time staying, so the room is complimentary. Is this room 'too fancy?'"

"No, not at all. It's lovely. We just didn't know how the rates worked. I assumed the rates went up the further the elevator went. It's a very unique setup, your hotel. I am fascinated."

"I see. You are right that it is unique. But the rates are the same all around. We find rooms to accommodate the personality and comfort level of our guests. Some with a more lavish lifestyle may prefer an executive look, others visiting family in their travels might prefer more relaxing and homely features. The rates are all the same, nonetheless, and we have plenty of rooms to spare. We may even give multiple rooms, if you'd prefer. This one suites the creative one. But I sense you might be worried about your vehicle as well. I can show you a motel room easily accessible. But please, do get comfortable."

I stayed in the room while the others looked at a room on the ground. I didn't notice that it did suit me. Not in the studio way I am comfortable with. But in a way that felt welcoming and had a view I could watch and let my thoughts go on. I was both flattered and worried about being addressed as "the creative one." Their profile on my personality was curiously alarming.

I got a call. The rest of them would stay in the room down below. But I liked the view, so I could stay up here. I also wanted the chance to explore the different personalities the hotel held. So I had the room to myself and everything I thought I would want. 4522.

After settling a bit, I went out to look around with my key card in my pocket. I took the elevator up, watching hallways roll by. St the top was a balcony and a pool overlooking the city. I went to the balcony to see the city ahead. I never saw anything like it, so I could not identify where it was.

I heard a bark behind me. I turned to see some woman with two well-pampered pomeranians and a hairstyle to match hers. I found it ironic, after all, people look like their pets.

"Excuse me," she said in the typical Karen way, "can you make this stupid thing work right? I wanted to go to the lobby, and it brought me here. My heels are killing me. Well, don't just stand there!"

I decided I needed the fun. I am not one to take kindly to rude people. So I told her I'll walk it back down. After all, it either goes up or down. If it's going up when it comes to you, chances are it will keep going up. It doesnt read your mind. It just stops when it senses you waiting, but only for so long.

"Why don't you people have normal elevators?"

I held back acid in my words, imagining the audacity one must have to complain about inconvenience at a creative take on a concept often taken for granted. But I needed the fun. So I just stepped off and continued my leisurely walk down the ramp without her. I was in no rush.

Around and around I went, watching the doors pass, occasionally looking over the rail the wheel took down to glimpse at the lobby below. Still, there was nobody in sight. The wheel made it's way to the bottom, so I knew if she was smart, she would have stayed on it all the way down.

I marvelled at how many designers much have been ordered to make this masterpiece come together. And I wondered how such an exquisite hotel could afford a flat rate for every room and why the first visit is complimentary.

The wheel stopped before me, the auditor stepping out before me.

"You have a dinner invitation this evening. Someone has taken an interest in you."

I took an envelope and watched him continue upward, wondering where he was going.

I got back to my room, finding a selection of evening gowns in the room. Oddly, they seemed to be tailored to my personality, like everything seemed to be. I didn't know whether to be impressed or alarmed.

I chose a simple, off shoulder gown with a lace capelet and a fabric rose detail in wine red.

I opened the envelope to find instructions to go up to 18714, in the approximate area I left the woman before. At least she was right about something, heels would be a nightmare. So I chose flats.

I took the wheel back to the top, and went searching for the room. In the hallway, I saw the auditor step out, wearing a suit in the same color I was, the mark on his head to match. It was both odd and oddly satisfying in the high-end fashion way.

He seemed to have been arguing with someone in the room, but smiled at me and walked to the end of the hallway before disappearing into another room.

I cautiously approached the room. It seemed empty at a glance, but with a nice spread laid out on the far end near a window overlooking the city.

I called out, and heard a voice from the closed off bedroom.

"I'm sorry I am not our to introduce myself. I just had an accident that requires a wardrobe change. Please, make yourself at home. I will be out in a moment."

I cautiously walked around the room, wondering who would be joining. I had called my companions before, and they said they were going out to eat, but that I should enjoy myself.

I looked out the window, still impressed by the view. Then I heard the door open behind me.

I didn't know who I was expecting before, but I didn't expect this. It was the concierge from before.

He saw my confusion and smiled warmly.

"I was expecting that reaction. Don't worry. I'm the owner of the hotel. Sometimes I have to fill in for a few positions, and I prefer to be inconspicuous. I saw you arrive earlier and wanted to meet you."

"Why? Why me?"

"You looked like someone I knew long ago. Same eyes. Eyes I never expected to see again or realized how much I missed. Eyes that also held such wonder." He gestured towards the city.

"Did I interrupt something before? The auditor left looking upset."

"Not at all. He is my business partner and companion. We fight sometimes. We were discussing family matters. It's nothing."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude asking. I was just worried."

"It's alright. I would be worried too in the circumstances."

I sat down and looked around the room. There were many displays of antiques, yet a very orderly modern design to the room. More personality than a museum, but with just as much security.

My eyes drifted to the paintings. They held a striking resemblance to my own style, and didnt seem to match the room at all.

"I paint sometimes," he said sheepishly. "One of my hobbies."

"They are nice. I like them."

He smiled, but in a slightly sad way.

"I knew a woman like you. She was like you in almost every way. She taught me to paint. She also had a curious nature. Very kind. And direct. She didn't like small talk often, so I will gamble that you do not as well. I will get to the point. I have a feeling you are a reincarnation, if you will. I made this hotel years ago, and it has adapted to the times. Many of the floors you saw were her vision. Her favorite was the suite you are in. Those items were hers or something I feel she would have. You were quick to realize this was no ordinary hotel. But you were not afraid. You seem to belong here. Even the way you handled that woman was something she would do. She was kind, but liked to teach lessons for behavior. It was one of the qualities I loved about her. She was like a daughter to me.

"She died 300 years ago. And I still miss her. So I wanted to offer you a home here. I know you have no reason to, as you have your own life. But I would be honored."

"300 years? How?"

"Immortality, of sorts. Hotel California situation, if you will. Those that stay can find themselves attached in body and spirit. Not that we keep people here forever. They chose to stay."

"So your business partner..."

"Chose to stay. He wants a family here. But the hotel doesn't allow for aging, and it's best that we don't try to disrupt youth like that. He is jealous. He knew of my daughter before. The one like you. But she died long before him. And he has wanted a family for the last 20 years after realizing what he had to give up to be with me."

"But why does the hotel do that? Of you knew when it was built and how, how old does that make you?"

"Aha. The key to it all. This has always been my hotel. Always. I am who women call Lucifer. The Devil. Whatever the name, it's the same idea. I'm not of this world, but I do find it charming. And no, it's not evil. Haunted, maybe, because I am here and it throws the balance of the natural world, but that doesn't make me evil. The hotel has had far worse evils than me here, and they have been dealt with appropriately."

I took time to process, feeling him watch me.

"You want me to stay and be her?"

"No. Not be her. I'm not looking to make you in her image. You are already enough like her. And although I may want, it isnt a demand. I am simply offering."

"Okay. I need time to think about it."

"Of course."

[lycanthrotea]

Oddmund had Become restless in the half hour since Videl left for work. He apologized again for needing to leave him alone, but Odd assured him there was no reason for him to worry about him. That was kind of lying as the usual anxiety begin to take hold within minutes. He laid in Bed for a while but Found himself unable to fall asleep despite having little energy from the nasty illness that afflicted him, And having just taken medicine that should be knocking him out.

“Tea. Videl showed me earlier where he hides the tea.” he thought as he hopped off the bed. If they were so well off, they might even have some rare leaves. He put on the capelet that he hung from the bedframe, Quietly opened the door to his temporary bedroom and checked to see where everyone was, because he really wasn’t in the mood of dealing with Videl’s sister. He was told she wouldn’t bother him anymore but now that her brother wasn’t here he didn’t trust her. The hallway and living room below was dark, And he Could see the dim light coming from her room. Not a sound coming from there either; he was probably fine.

Once in the kitchen and having found the lights he grab the stool by the pantry and open up the top shelf to find many jars of dried fruits and leaves, flowers. It seemed Emptier than before though, Upon further Inspection, None of the jars had anything containing caffeine or medicinal properties, it was fine it’s not like he didn’t know any better. He grabbed whatever interested him and put them on the counter For further inspection and decision making.

**

as he began to return all the jars to their place he heard footsteps coming from The stairs. Odd froze up a little until Videl’s mom appeared. He had scarcely seen her, or heard her speak In the few days he has been staying there,that along with her tall (taller than Akua even) And strong looking figure she gave off imposing aura.She had said once in a monotone voice that if her son was not around he was free to go to her for anything he needed before immediately leaving the room. Videl then had told him that she probably could be a scary person sometimes but that was more her being socially awkward than anything. Von. Ōik Stared at him without a word or hint of Emotion on her face and proceeded to enter the room. Odd barely Caught a quiet “good evening “ as she passed by. In the clear he finished putting them away and began to heat water in a small kettle on the stove as she had taken out and begun to reheat what seemed like dinner from earlier. He Didn’t know what was being cooked earlier as he was given soup for dinner but by the smell and look at it It was some stewed beef but with some exotic looking fruit flavoring it. Probably something Iavan, considering that Videl’s from there and resembles her well. Had his appetite not been nonexistent Odd probably would be salivating but fortunately eating is his least favorite activity at the moment. Although he would love to try it as soon as he got better.

She had noticed him stare at her food long enough to glance from the corner of her eye. He reflexively turned his attention away And moved away as she turned her attention back to making sure the food was evenly heated.

With her back to him he noticed the shawl she was wearing Was something he had never really seen before. His boss had many books and notes about The clothes worn it in different regions and during different years. It did not heavily interest him to design and innovate as much as it did she but he was interested enough to absorb a fair amount of the information she taught him. The warm light of the kitchen made it a little difficult to discern details but as he passed to pick up the kettle of water for his tea, he Was able to get a better look at it. It’s seem to be constructed with very fine deep brown worsted wool. It was a basic knit But the way lighter and darker browns were organized made for an intricate pattern.

The shawl itself seemed to have been made years ago but taken care of well enough. a pin held it together from the front, letting is the end of the fabric drape down, only here is where other colors Of yarn A light gray, a dark bluish gray a Reddish brown, seem to have been added later on, somewhat unevenly.

Odd poured the hot water in the pot, he wanted to say something but thought it might be a little awkward. She removed the pan from the stove and took a plate from the cupboard, and using a fork emptied the contents of the pan onto it. It was a lot of food but she did seem like a person would eat a lot with her stature. She put the pan into the sink and started to walk away.

“Hey uh!”

She stopped “Yes Vin. Ordamon?” She did not turn to face him, her voice gave no hint to whether or not she welcomed the interruption.

“Where did you get that shawl? “

“I made it , with assistance from my mother.”

“Wait what really? I’ve never seen anything like it where are you from? What is it made of?”

. She turned around and Studied him briefly it only took a moment of focus to read him. There was no underlying malice or distain of any kind it seems he was hiding some excitement over genuine curiosity. For her sons sake she chose her words.

“My family is Sosvaren. The wool is sheered from A relatives animal. The way it is knit is according to tradition.”

“Ohh. So does that mean that Videl has one too?”

“No, he is more Iavan than anything. Do not bring it up to him.”

“Uh Oh.. well I think it’s pretty cool! Could I see it? Or is that… uh”

she did not let it show but she felt content To know someone felt that way. There were a few times where she was able to talk about her own culture and traditions, being a terse demon who often kept family life to herself. Perhaps he was only interested in clothing aspect but that was enough for her.

“it’s fine. “

“Really could we do it right now then?”

“It’s Rather late for you, perhaps tomorrow earlier in the evening would-“

“No I’m all right! I’m really interested if you don’t mind.”

“do not interrupt me. Hmm. Very well suppose I will wait for you To finish brewing your tea.”

“R-Right, Sorry.”

Odd was a little bit embarrassed to have gotten so excited to forget common courtesy it made him feel childish although he was better than how he was feeling before. He reckons enough time had passed for the tea to be sufficiently seaped And poured it as she watched keenly. It wasn’t his best cup but it was satisfying enough for now. Von. Ōik offered to carry it upstairs for him which was fine because he Disliked carrying liquids upstairs after having dropped A few too many glasses working in room service. Once back onto the second floor he took a short breather as the exertion made him a tad dizzy, inevitable drowsiness had also begun to set in. She could tell and Asked once more Commenting that he did not look very well but he didn’t want to be sent off to bed like a child. When he was ready to go they Walked down the hallway to the master bedroom which he had not seen before. It was huge but He couldn’t make much detail in dim lighting. However he could see the very large bed that faced him, it was absurdly big, like three large beds put together into one round cushion. Von. Ōik Handed his cup back to him as she put down her plate on her night table before entering the closet. He took a few sips before she came out with several large cotton bags. She motioned him to come near as she pulled out the contents.

This is the wool used For my shawl, It is fine and of high-quality. It May used to contruct other pieces of traditional garb but it is Perfectly acceptable For it to be used to construct other things. The things I will show you Are made from this. You may touch it if your hands are clean.

Odd put his Cup down as she motioned to the bathroom, Inside there was also a very large shower but he paid less attention to it as he quickly washed and dried his hands and returned to touch the wool. It was really soft and very clean. He wasn’t really good at spinning yarns but he knew yarns that were spun from this would probably fetch a pretty fair amount.

“You may have noticed that there are extra colors That differ from the original wool. I added them when my Family began to grow, after I had married my wife, after my son had been born and after I had adopted my daughter. Other members of my family prefer to add things to symbolize other occurrences in their life, such as surviving a dark time in their or abandoning a past life to start anew, Whatever is most important.”

She motioned that he return the wool he was gently stroking, as he put it back in the bags. She returned them to her closet and then produced a fairly large knit blanket made with thick yarn

“Do not stain this. “She said as she wrapped it around him. He was caught off guard by the tender gesture but Maybe it was just to show him more easily? He was getting pretty sleepy so he made himself Cozy.

“What else do you want to know?”

“I don’t mind if you keep showing stuff you made, I like looking at different fabrics and whats made with them. And you can keep talking about the stuff behind it.”

“Very well”

**

“Ah!”

“ be still its just me”

Odd sluggishly sat up to meet her gaze. He must’ve dozed off soon after because his memory blanked. He stammered to excuse himself but in his embarrassment and drowsiness couldn’t make any words. Before he could finally compose himself he felt a wave of calmess, which felt like sleepiness. It must’ve been strong stuff.

“You may return later if you’d like, Rest is most important.”

He nodded slowly as she stood and opened the bedroom door. A faint light appeared in the hallway. Odd didn’t question it and uttered a low thanks before leaving. the light disappeared as soon as he reached his room, he threw off his capelet and flopped Back onto the bed, to finally sleep.