#owls printed curtains

[forever-lunasea]

Transitional Living Room Example of a mid-sized formal transitional enclosed carpeted room with a beige floor, white walls, and no fireplace or television.

[meganlovesyou56]

Transitional Living Room - Enclosed

[totallycorny]

Met at a Fête

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

warnings: implied fem!reader, mentions of bullying.

To start this week off, I thought I might write for different characters. I’ve always been a Harry Potter fan but I never really got into the Marauders Era, Until now that is. Enjoy!

headers made by me!

word count: 1070+ (I lost count after that!)

You and your family were lucky to have been invited to a party, Especially one that was hosted by the Noble House of Black.

They were the talk of the Wizarding World, Anybody who passed by Diagon Alley always seemed to be murmuring about the family.

The Blacks were just that favored and admired.

Nobody disliked them, and if you did, You would be criticized for that matter.

To be precise on the word lucky, It meant that even though your family was of wizards and witches who were pure-blood, A few of them were not. Specifically, Your grandmother. Yet your family was still invited.

Her family was muggle born, She then fell in love with a wizard and well.. You get the rest. Other pure-blood families did not like that one bit.

You’d always get bullied in Hogwarts, Which was a shame because Hogwarts grew to be your home. The only home where the bullying wasn’t that bad.

Out on the streets, You’d be shoved at and pulled by the hair. Some stuck up witches would put spells on you just to make sure you knew your place.

That all changed when Aurora, Your personal owl, Flew in with a black ribbon and a letter attached to it tied to her leg.

“Mother..!” You yelped as you got up from the rocking chair, almost falling over in the process, scrambling to grab the letter.

Footsteps thumped down the stairs as your Mother peeked her head down to see what the commotion was about. “Yes, my dear?”

You carefully turned the letter over, reading the print for a second before smiling wide. Your fingers absentmindedly opened the letter without using the letter opener.

“The Noble House of Black cordially invites you to their ball.” You whispered as you skimmed over the cursive.

You almost screamed right then and there.

All you remember that day was your mother’s frantic responses of “Let me see that letter!” And “My love, Come quick!”, You could tell this was a dream come true for her.

Now here you were, In a black gown your mother had been saving for whenever you’d go to a party or a ball like this. It fit like a charm, Even for how dusty and old it was.

“Padfoot!” A young man called as he hugged someone. You couldn’t see who the other man was, Until he stepped away.

His dark eyes is what caught your attention, They were like eclipse’s in his orbs. Padfoot, You’ve heard that before haven’t you?

A lightbulb went off in your head when it finally clicked, This was the infamous Sirius ‘Padfoot’ Black. The trickster and class clown at Hogwarts whom you’d always seen in the hallways walking with a strut.

In all honesty, He was quite a handsome man, but you also admired him for his kind nature. Even though He was a Gryffindor in a Slytherin family, He wasn’t like his family at all.

You hadn’t realized you had been staring at Sirius’ face for too long until his eyes locked onto yours.

You quickly ducked behind a couple who had been way too into themselves, Maybe he hadn’t really seen you absentmindedly staring at his face.

His handsome, gorgeous and beautiful face.

God, You really were crushing, hard.

Your parents were conversing with another family, So it’s not like you could go to them. That is until you spotted a curtain, wide and large enough to hide you from guests and specifically Sirius.

Quickly, You made your escape to the dark curtain, It’s velvety attire draping over you. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your mouth.

Just as you were trying to relax, your eyes closed until you blinked, Sirius had appeared right in your face.

“Woah!” You jumped, Thumping your head against the wall as you recoiled and hissed in pain. Sirius’ lips curled into a smile as he chuckled.

“Sorry, Sorry. Couldn’t help but notice someone staring at me far too long for their own liking.” A blush crept over your cheeks, Your hand that had been soothing your head finally came down to hold other hand. Immediately fidgeting.

“I was just thinking, M’ Sorry. Didn’t realize I had been staring at you until it was too late.” You awkwardly chuckle, Shrugging off your nervousness as Sirius’ eyes scanned over your form.

His smile was giving you butterflies in your stomach, almost as if you could actually throw up butterflies. “Not to worry, I know I’m really handsome that you just can’t resist me.” A smug smile appeared on his lips as he joked, going into a silly pose just to make you laugh.

And laugh you did. A snort almost came out of your lips as your hand covered your mouth. “I think hiding behind the curtains is not proper of us.” You cleared your throat as you peeked out of the curtain, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

“Right you are,” He said as he peeks out of the curtains as well. “I’ll go first so it doesn’t look suspicious of us.” He gives you a wink as he walks off, joining a group of teens who seemed to around your age and instantly fitting right in.

He didn’t have to speak before fitting into the conversation. He was that effortless. You slowly slipped out beneath the velvet drapes and stood still by it.

“He has a character about him that everyone just loves, doesn’t he?” A taller guy spoke from beside you, Making you jump once again. Why do they always appear out of nowhere?

You realized he was talking about Sirius. “He does,” You look back at Sirius for a moment before speaking up again. “Makes me wonder how him and his family are related.” You cross your arms before looking at the young man next to you.

He nods before giving you his name, His hand outstretched. “I’m Remus, Remus Lupin.” You took his hand, giving him a firm shake before it finally clicked in your head again. “You’re moony, Right?”

He snaps his fingers as he grins. “You are correct, I guess we’re that well known hm?” He shuffles in his position, Nodding at Sirius. “Well, Time to shine, See you later church mouse.” He says as he walks away from you.

Church mouse? Confusion set on your face for a bit. “Quiet as a church mouse..” You chuckled to yourself as you sighed. Guess you had a new nickname.

Your eyes set back onto Sirius, His laughter almost echoing throughout the ballroom. You could get used to his presence, A smile tugged onto your lips as Sirius looked at you and waved at you to come on over.

You won’t mind being a church mouse, As long as you are next to him.

Thank you for reading!

[kendsleyauthor]

🍂 Sanctuary + Mirror + Puzzle 🍂

Promptober 2023

Print / Trinket Universe (Kylian and Bluebell)

~1400 words

Warning: Dehumanization

Introducing new characters! Kylian is a rich, eccentric artist. Bluebell is a print who is unfortunate enough to catch his full attention 💙

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Kylian hadn’t created anything in weeks. He didn’t bother lamenting this issue in his social circle. They would simply click their tongues and remind him that he could continue living in luxury for the rest of his life without having another single creative idea.

They didn’t understand what it meant to have an overwhelming hunger to shape something—anything—and to come up empty day after day. As an artist who utilized numerous mediums, from traditional art to more complex pieces like puzzles—something should have been calling to him.

He wasn’t particularly personable at the best of times, but when inspiration was elusive, he could go months without being spotted in public.

His woodworking studio took up one corner of the ground floor. Ample light bathed his work surfaces—all of which were crowded and cluttered with half-formed pieces. 

Cursing under his breath, he snapped a delicate piece of wood between his hands while the saw continued to buzz maniacally. It had started off fine. Intarsia was careful work, and though his technique was flawless, the outline of the owl he had envisioned was not turning out like he’d imagined.

As he switched off the saw, he caught the sound of the front door opening. His jaw clenched as he heard the housekeeper greet the cleaning service workers. 

Not for the first time, he briefly considered the idea of setting up a studio separate from his home. Money wasn’t an issue. He simply preferred to avoid venturing to a different location to create his art when he could do it from the comfort of his home. 

And that meant, twice a week, dealing with outsiders in his space. Two humans, and five prints. So long as they stayed out of his way, he wouldn’t have to snap at them, let alone look at them. They understood the protocol by now.

After another half hour of splintered attempts at a woodworking project, Kylian decided to vacate the studio before he destroyed one of the saws. Perhaps looking through some old sketchbooks would provide some inspiration. 

Along the way to one of his messier studios on the second floor, he caught glimpses of movement. A normal person down the hall. Two prints dusting meticulously at one of the bookshelves. None of them dared to greet him, and he didn’t acknowledge their presence. Ghosts were meant to be invisible, after all.

“If you refuse to date, you should at least get yourself a Mercy print,” one of his colleagues had crooned a few months ago. “You could use the company. Let yourself have a little fun, for fuck’s sake.”

He didn’t have a Mercy print for the same reason that he never hosted social functions at his own home. The thought of having to entertain or be entertained by someone beneath him was entirely unappealing. He couldn’t understand why anyone would subject themselves to it. 

The sanctuaries of his studios were more than enough to keep him satisfied—even when inspiration was out of reach.

As he approached the studio where he stored most of his old sketchbooks, he came to a halt in the middle of the corridor. 

The door was partly opened. On its own, that wouldn’t have normally gotten under his skin. Perhaps he carelessly forgot to shut it after his last visit. But he’d enjoyed his solitude enough to sense when he wasn’t alone—and he was certain that goosebumps were rising along his arms for a reason.

Taking silent steps, he approached the door and peered inside. Light filtered through the sheer curtains across the wide window. Every bit of illumination seemed to concentrate on the slight movement in the studio.

Kylian held his breath, narrowing his eyes.

A print was on his desk, admiring herself in the mirror that he occasionally used for self-portraits. She was so absorbed in her reflection, she didn’t even notice him in the doorway.

Disgust roiled through him, culminating in a silent rage.

The cleaning crew knew to stay out of his studios. Under no circumstances were they to touch any of his work. 

But he didn’t recognize this print—there was no way he could forget someone who looked like her. So she was new. Either someone had been negligent in warning her about his strict preferences, or she was a self-absorbed airhead who couldn’t resist a mirror even when she was knowingly trespassing.

Kylian nearly shouted for her to get the fuck out of there—perhaps he’d startle her enough to make her fall and break her neck. But he was taken aback by her odd appearance as she fixed her hair in the mirror. 

Bronze skin caught the muted light perfectly, as though the sun was hellbent on caressing her. Her inky black locks were pulled into a high ponytail with different shades of blue yarn, the ends of which cascaded among the waves of her hair.

Strangely, she was wearing a dress. It appeared to be stitched from many different worn-out and frayed fabrics—also blue, blue blue.

There was something about her. A sort of aura that he’d never witnessed in a print before.

She dropped her hands from her hair, satisfied with the way it fell, and took hold of the sides of her skirt. Swaying side to side, she took delicate steps, flouncing to music that Kylian couldn’t hear. She was performing a subdued version of a dance. Her full lips, touched by a faint flush of color, parted with a wordless melody.

“La la-la, la-la.”

The same tune, over and over. Her dance became more daring, her feet tracing a fluid path in front of the mirror. Then she began to twirl, eyes closed, arms raising slowly over her head.

Kylian gaped. She was out of her mind. He began to wonder if she wasn’t from the cleaning crew at all—she might have wandered in off the streets. But he couldn’t stop staring, slack-jawed.

Her eyes fluttered open as she was making a final turn. Her gentle song broke off in a shriek when she spotted him. She came to such an abrupt stop, she might have sprained her ankle as she lost her footing and fell to a hard seat. The print gasped, swiftly covering her mouth as though to belatedly take back her scream.

“Mr. Hart!” She scrambled to stand and lowered her head in a bow. “I-I’m so sorry. Ever so sorry.”

Her accent was strange, almost as if she’d stepped out of a Western film. He could barely believe the twang in her voice was real—let alone believe that she was real. He didn’t say a thing as she apologized over and over. There wasn’t a single string of words that could encapsulate a response to the bizarre scene he’d witnessed.

The print snatched up her dusting rag and climbed down the table leg expertly. The skittering movement vaguely reminded him of a rat, and he began to surface back to himself. Still, he kept silent.

Her cheeks were flushed as she made her way to the door—and inadvertently, toward him. Her mismatched dress fluttered like flower petals in the wind as she skirted around him carefully, like he might decide to step on her for her insolence.

She’d almost made it to the hallway when he venomously snapped, “What’s your name?”

Her blushing face paled. “Bluebell, sir.” She gave an eccentric little curtsy with her ragged skirts, then hurried off.

Kylian pointedly shut the door behind him, hoping she’d feel the vibration of it. He took a seat at his desk, noting the tiny footprints in the dust and pencil shavings near the mirror.

Bluebell.

What a stupid name. It made her sound like a trinket. She had to have grown up feral, out in the wilderness where prints only knew how to name their children after plants. Strange that she wouldn’t have adopted a normal name now that she was existing in her proper station in life.

Then again, she was clearly inadequate at the job that her proper station in life afforded her.

Her strangeness seemed exponential.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He grabbed a sketchbook and flipped through it. Finding it full, he tossed it aside. He repeated the procedure five times before he found a blank page. He picked up a charcoal pencil and began drawing for the first time in weeks.

He gazed at his creation silently, equal measures disgusted with himself and enthralled.

Then he reached for every shade of blue brush pen within reach.

[wheelercore]

I love when ST jumpscares me with nocturnal predators. All the owls. The Hawkins High tigers. All the tiger posters and paw prints. The cats. The 500 card game boxes in Dustin's closet because the pool of money in poker is called a "kitty". Esp love it when it's accompanied with grid imagery. Like yes show me what's behind the curtain BB I know rosemary's baby was an inspo you can't lie to me.

[cloudmonarch43]

[ID: Ten rectangular panels of messy pen drawings, titled “February 1, 2023.” In the first, 9:00am shows Ruby waking up in a bunk bed, lifting a curtain away from a window, and showering behind a leaf-print curtain. A thought bubble contains lyrics from “Losing Track” by The Mechanisms: “Mile after mile cutting swathes through the sky as the void sings...” There is also a bottle of moisturizer. There is a bowl of oatmeal with its ingredients drawn and labeled below it: water, oats, walnuts, raisins, salt, and hot sauce. Second is a full-body drawing of Ruby, labeled "inside," with items of clothing identified in the style of Disco Elysium. “Red Vest” gives +1 Inland Empire (the right color) and -1 Volition (the wrong cut). “Black Button-up” gives +1 Suggestion (vampire vibes). “Cat Slippers” give +1 Perception (in touch with the ground...). “Black Jeans” give +1 Composure (they were right about this one). The next panel is labeled "10... 11... 12..." and shows a laptop open to Gmail, a four-guess Wordle score, and a phone shuffling "Liked Songs." Text says, "work at emails dot com," "I think I'm used to this uncalled for update now..." and "(also trying to decide on clothing stats...)" 1:00pm shows a small frying pan full of vague scribbles, labeled "Lunch: This is a broccoli cheese pie construction in red pasta sauce. It's good." YouTube is open to a Kaz Rowe video, number 48 out of 49 in the Watch Later playlist. There is also a surprised face peering in through a spiral, labeled "Drawing myself drawing this." The next two hours, 2 and 3, are linked, showing a sidewalk and some wispy clouds, labeled "46 degrees Fahrenheit: wandering under the wintery clouds." Smaller doodles represent dropping off a ballot, investigating a grocery store, and eating an orange and trail mix. Then the aforementioned cat slippers are kicked up behind a phone screen reading "chill out," a task captioned "watch TikToks with no sound." Next is another clothing display, this one labeled "outside," as various items of outerwear have been added to the previous outfit. "Green Hat" gives +1 Hand/Eye Coordination (better than a hood) and -2 Shivers (quiet warm bubble). "Sunglasses" gives +1 Drama (traces of Crowley cosplay). "Corduroy Jacket" gives +1 Encyclopedia (college kid in a used books store). "Gloves" gives +1 Interfacing (touch screen sensitive). "Waterproof Boots" gives +1 Physical Instrument (take on the world). 4:00pm starts with another "drawing myself drawing this" portal, this one with a winking face. There is an upper body workout and stretch session represented by very sparse doodles. There is a sketch of the cover of the podcast "Secret Feminist Agenda," a round badge with the title worn on a plaid shirt. The next two hours, 5 and 6, are combined, showing a laptop open to an Audacity project with the waveform and spectrogram both displayed and a headphone cord plugged in. This is labeled "editing Disco Elysium podfic." Next to the computer is a fancy mug labeled "spicy hot chocolate." The next panel includes both 7:00 and 8:00pm. On the left is a sheet pan of crescent-shaped pieces of squash, another indistinct frying pan labeled "curry warmed back up," the Duolingo owl, and a phone screen labeled "warm up." On the right is a messy depiction of a Reason project labeled "making music," the cube-shaped Reason logo labeled "learning Reason," and a microphone labeled "recording temporary singing." Finally, 9:00pm is a simple bullet list: "Finishing up the drawings. Up next: make the posts, drink tea, edit more podfic, get ready for bed. And then sleep :)" Ruby is shown laying down, eyes closed and smiling. End ID.]

Making up clothing stats is sooo much fun hehehe

[owllovers]

Owl Curtains from Owl Lovers Store

Owl Shower Curtain is a sophisticated item whether you have a bathtub or a stand-up shower because our owl designs will transform the simple PVC sheets you often see into something awe-inspiring. Let’s see what OWL LOVERS has in store before you add your favorite items to your shopping list!

Spruce Up Your Bathroom Decor With An Owl Shower Curtain

As one of the Owl bathroom décor items that we highly appreciate, our shower curtains are made with quality and assurance, giving you more than a mere sheet of fabrics for coverage.

From Kids' Designs To Fascinating Prints For Adults

We have some of the most trendy cartoon owl shower curtains that children will love with all their hearts. The significant length of each product also allows us to print a grand picture or turn it into many smaller images, increasing the variety of the collection. For adults, our patterns and colors follow certain themes that can satisfy your needs in multiple seasons or whenever you want something new. You can easily change from abstract to vintage within a few minutes.

An Owl Shower Curtain Can Bring A Sense Of Joy To The Bathroom Environment

The bathroom is not always the coziest area in your house with the marble, porcelain, tiles, and steel people used for construction. However, have you ever thought about how a floral owl shower curtain can turn the table? You can choose between a realistic picture or an image from an animation. We will make sure the colors in use are the most vibrant you have ever seen. Your bathroom will be remarkably livelier once you hang your curtain. Let’s not forget that shower curtains are meant to make your bathroom seem more roomy than it is. If you share the restroom with someone else, you will need this comfort!

High-Quality Materials Make Them Last Longer

Being part of the bathroom, it is natural for shower curtains to come in microfibers, polyesters, and sometimes cotton blends. The materials you choose will have a great impact on how they look in your bathroom. Cotton blends are soft to the touch, easy to dye and print, versatile in styles, and require little to no maintenance. You will have an easy time personalizing your space and a very long time making the most use of it. The synthesized materials are not less durable and low-maintenance at all either, even though they might be lacking in aesthetics. They also have certain levels of repellency for moisture, hence mildew and mold won’t be a trouble to you.

Source: https://owl-lovers.com/product-category/owl-home-decor/owl-shower-curtains/

[tesmare]

Looking For Bedroom Decor Inspiration? Check Out These Stylish Ideas!

Introduction: 

Your bedroom serves as your personal oasis, a haven where you retreat after a long day to unwind, relax, and rejuvenate. It's a sanctuary where you start and end your day, and its ambiance plays a crucial role in your overall well-being. Whether you're an early riser who savors the first light of dawn or a night owl who finds solace under the moon's gentle glow, your bedroom should reflect your unique personality, preferences, and lifestyle. In this blog, we'll delve into a myriad of stylish decor ideas that will not only elevate the aesthetics of your bedroom but also enhance its functionality and comfort. From embracing minimalist design principles to infusing boho chic charm, from creating a cozy retreat to incorporating luxurious textiles and accessories, we'll explore how you can transform your bedroom into a tranquil and inviting space that you'll never want to leave. So, let's embark on this journey of inspiration and creativity, and discover the endless possibilities for making your bedroom a true reflection of your individual style and preferences.

Embrace Minimalism: Minimalist design emphasizes simplicity, clean lines, and clutter-free spaces, creating a serene and tranquil environment conducive to rest and relaxation. Keep furniture sleek and understated, opting for pieces with minimalist silhouettes and multifunctional features. Choose a neutral color palette with soft hues like white, beige, or gray to promote a sense of calmness and sophistication. 

Go Boho Chic: For an eclectic, free-spirited vibe, embrace boho chic in your bedroom decor. Mix patterns, textures, and colors for a vibrant space. Incorporate macrame wall hangings, rattan furniture, and Moroccan rugs. Experiment with bold colors and playful accents. Complete the look with boho design cushion covers in various patterns and textures, adding whimsy and personality to your space.

Create a Cozy Retreat: Transform your bedroom into a cozy retreat where you can unwind and escape the stresses of daily life. Layer plush bedding, including soft duvets, fluffy pillows, and cozy throws, to create a sumptuous sleeping environment. Add warmth and ambiance with soft lighting, such as bedside lamps or string lights, and incorporate natural elements like wood and plants to evoke a sense of comfort and tranquility. 

Make a Statement with Wall Art: Elevate your bedroom decor with striking wall art that reflects your personality and style. Whether it's a large-scale canvas painting, a gallery wall of framed photographs, or a statement tapestry, choose artwork that speaks to you and complements the overall aesthetic of your space. Experiment with different arrangements and placement options to create visual interest and focal points in your bedroom. 

Enhance with Elegant Curtains: Elegant curtains can transform the look and feel of your bedroom, adding a touch of sophistication and luxury. Opt for floor-length curtains in soft, flowing fabrics like silk or linen to create an elegant and airy ambiance. Choose colors and patterns that complement your existing decor scheme, whether you prefer subtle neutrals for a minimalist look or bold prints for a statement-making focal point. 

You may also like-: Maximizing Small Spaces: Clever Tricks for Decorating Tiny Apartments

Incorporate Luxurious Textures: Enhance the tactile experience of your bedroom by incorporating luxurious textures that add depth and dimension to your decor. Velvet, silk, faux fur, and leather are just a few examples of materials that can elevate the look and feel of your space. Introduce these textures through bedding, upholstery, and accent pieces like throw blankets and decorative pillows to create a sense of opulence and sophistication.

Bring the Outdoors In: Connect with nature by incorporating elements of the outdoors into your bedroom decor. Introduce houseplants to add a touch of greenery and freshness to your space while also improving air quality and promoting a sense of well-being. Consider natural materials like wood, stone, and woven fibers to create a rustic and organic ambiance that evokes the serenity of the great outdoors.

Incorporate Sensory Elements: Engage all five senses to create a truly immersive and inviting bedroom environment. Add a scented candle, essential oil diffuser, or linen spray in soothing fragrances like lavender, chamomile, or eucalyptus to promote relaxation and sleep. Play soft music or nature sounds to create a calming ambiance, and incorporate tactile elements like plush rugs, velvet cushions, and silky bedding for a sensory-rich experience.

We are also available on -: Myntra, Ajio, Amazon and Flipkart

Conclusion: 

Your bedroom is more than just a room—it's a reflection of your personality, a sanctuary for relaxation, and a space where you can express your individuality through decor. By incorporating the stylish ideas explored in this blog, from minimalist design to boho chic accents, you can transform your bedroom into a haven that speaks to your soul. And with Tesmare premium-quality curtains and cushion covers available at reasonable prices, you can elevate your bedroom decor without breaking the bank. Whether you're drawn to the luxurious textures of velvet or the timeless elegance of silk, Tesmare offers an array of options to suit your style and budget. So, as you embark on your journey to revitalize your bedroom, remember that the possibilities are endless. With a little creativity, inspiration, and the right decor pieces, you can create a space that not only looks beautiful but also feels like home—a place where you can truly unwind, recharge, and find peace amidst the chaos of everyday life.

[wishcoworker]

Inside the World of Coworking Spaces: A Human Perspective

In recent years, coworking spaces have become a popular choice for freelancers, entrepreneurs, and even established companies. But what exactly is it like to work in one of these shared environments? Let’s peel back the curtain and take a peek into the daily life of coworking.· First and foremost, coworking spaces offer a vibrant and dynamic atmosphere. Imagine yourself walking into a space filled with people from various backgrounds, all hustling on their respective projects. The energy is palpable, and there’s a sense of camaraderie as individuals come together to work side by side.· One of the greatest perks of coworking is the sense of community it fosters. Unlike traditional offices, where you might only interact with your immediate colleagues, coworking spaces bring together a diverse mix of professionals. This opens up endless opportunities for networking, collaboration, and idea exchange. You never know who you might meet or what connections you could forge over a cup of coffee in the communal kitchen.· Speaking of amenities, coworking spaces are often equipped with all the essentials to support productivity. From high-speed internet and ergonomic workstations to meeting rooms and printing facilities, everything you need to get your work done is readily available. Plus, many spaces offer additional perks like onsite cafes, wellness activities, and even social events to help you strike the perfect balance between work and play.· But perhaps the most significant advantage of coworking is the flexibility it provides. Say goodbye to rigid nine-to-five schedules and hello to the freedom to work whenever and wherever suits you best. Whether you’re an early bird who thrives in the morning hustle or a night owl who prefers burning the midnight oil, coworking spaces accommodate all working styles.

Working in a coworking space is like being part of a thriving ecosystem where productivity meets community. It’s a place where you can cultivate meaningful connections, fuel your creativity, and take your work to new heights. So, if you’re looking to break free from the confines of traditional office spaces and embrace a more dynamic way of working, coworking might just be the perfect fit for you.

[teddyniffler]

Chapter 17: Part 2

Everything was ready.

The Gaunts and the Notts gathered on the path leading out of the house, looking down at the town below.

“To their traditions, Muggle men go out tonight to encourage the courtship and breeding of their kind. They leave calling cards to say they have been, as they don’t use owls.” Mr Gaunt told the group. “How disgusting. We are not only having sport tonight, but stopping more of them being created. Such a noble work we do on this night.”

Mr Nott laughed.

“Such bizarre customs” He observed.

Ominis stayed quite, he was to remain at the house while his family and the Notts went down below, he couldn’t see the Muggles to capture any, but he had been told he would have an important role, and a warning from Marvolo told him he should do as he was told. What they wanted him to do, he had no idea.

“Ominis, we shall be back soon with tonight’s ‘guests’.” His father told him as they all walked away to the town.

He was alone. The snow was falling all around him, he could feel it landing on him, however due to enchantments around the Gaunt’s house this night the snow felt dry and fluffy. Their home on the top of the hill would be lit up for all to see for miles around, it would look festive but nobody would know of the horror this house held. He had no doubt that a charm would be in place to block the screams and the flames being seen and heard down there in the town. He could almost picture what was happening in his imagination, his father walking boldly through the streets, at the head of the crowd, slowly and purposely walking towards unsuspecting Muggles. The Notts on one side, his mother and Marvolo on the other. All their wands concealed.

No muggle would raise an alarm, they would never see his family coming, they were truly serpents who came, attacked, and left without trace.

Maybe they would be flashes of lights that shone up people’s walls, flashing in the windows. Before the Muggles had time to look through their curtains, they would see nothing in the street below, all the oil lamps would be strangely burned out, unexplainably extinguished. The falling snow would cover any fresh prints of footsteps. Red lights flashing like the colour of strawberries or white lights like what Lumos apparently made.

Then the Muggles would be taken, it would be over so fast, They wouldn’t know what hit them. They would be snatched and taken by the night.

He was so horror fixed by what his own mind was trying to show him he didn’t notice Snakey tapping the skin behind his ears.

‘Friend. Friend’

“Oh sorry, what was it?” He asked in a hiss.

‘Smells and voices’ his snake answered.

Ominis stood up.

Yes, there it was, the faint crunch, crunch, crunch of footsteps in the snow. Then he could hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor, many things.

“We got them! We got them!” Marvolo said, slapping Ominis’ arm. “We got one of their children!” His arms came around Ominis like a distorted hug from behind, followed by Marvolo jumping up and down. He was beyond excited; he couldn’t control himself.

Ominis’ inside turned to ice hearing that.

“How old?” He asked in horror.

“Who cares, young I guess? We got its father too!”

The way they spoke, it was like talking about birds hunted for game.

“Wine?” Mr Gaunt asked Mr Nott and his wife.

“That was some good hunting.” Mrs Nott complimented. “I did enjoy how you levitated that one so the other wouldn’t see. She looked so shocked when her mate just disappeared. The Ministry should make Muggle Hunting legal already.”

“She didn’t even look up, its because they’ve never seen anything levitate before.” Marvolo’s voice popped in.

“I was not expecting a woman and a child to be out tonight, that’s not normally how the Muggles work, but perhaps these are deviants.”

“Oooh, criminal Muggles?” Marvolo laughed. “Ominis, don’t befriend this one, you already have a murderer for a friend.”

“Who was cleared, Marvolo.” Came their father’s voice. “The boy was innocent; my son would not befriend low life who kill their own family.”

Ominis felt faint, he felt like the floor was rotating slightly to the side. He couldn’t see the Muggles but his mind did, it was giving him awful visions.

“Let’s get them on the pyre, then we can serve the food” Mrs Gaunt said “I do hope you are all hungry, we have quite the spread. My husband has ordered the best foods. Wait until you try these foods right from Italy, we have the same people who prep food for the Minister for Magic and our own house elfs are highly trained, they made the cake here.”

Dragging noises and footsteps walking away, Marvolo was making odd noises of excitement as he followed the hunting party with their prizes.

“Marvolo, stop that, it will bite you.” His mother was saying.

“Such a small Muggle though.” Marvolo taunted.

“This one can go in the center with this one.”

“Incarcerous”

“Need more rope there.”

“Thank you.”

“Father, there’s still room! Can we go back and get more?”

“We’ll just do with these.”

He could hear them talking and joking so casual with each other. Ominis could hear them laughing, it was surreal.

“Remove their gags, nobody shall hear them now.” Mr Gaunt said.

Almost at once, the sound of a child crying and a man’s voice pleading for help filled the air, Ominis guessed the others were too stunned to speak.

“– What’s happening? – Please let us go! – Please, don’t, don’t- “

“Can we light it now?” Marvolo asked in glee.

“Ominis, come here.” Mr Gaunt said suddenly. Ominis looked up in shock. He felt their eyes on him like piercings rays. He stepped forward, closer to his father.

“Yes father?” Ominis asked. His heart was racing, his ears straining for the noise of any sound around him.

“You shall light the pyre.” His father said.

It was just like before.

They had brought him out in front of the Muggles they had captured, they were kneeling somewhere in front of him on the floor and a small Ominis was placed before them, a wand placed into his hand. It was his father’s wand. Each Gaunt proved themselves worthy of the Slytherin bloodline by practicing the dark arts from a tender age. He was to torture them, he couldn’t bring himself to make those Muggles scream more, he had been upset at hearing the screams, then his family tortured him until he turned torturer himself.

Now, his father was holding him in front of what he knew was the pyre they had been building. He could hear the cries of the Muggles begging to be freed.

He felt a hand pulling out his wand and felt it being put in his hand, his own wand this time, not his father’s.

“Set it ablaze” His father instructed.

Marvolo’s eyes zeroed in on Ominis, so did his mother’s. They were all watching carefully. This was a test to see if Ominis really was worthy of the Gaunt name.

‘Do it’ Marvolo mouthed frustratedly. If Ominis embarrassed the family in front of the Notts…

Ominis stood frozen on the spot.

He could feel his father holding him, one of his hands moved off Ominis and then Ominis felt it, there was a wand touching the back of his neck. His father was hiding it from the Notts, but Ominis could feel the wand.

“Ominis.” His father warned.

There was a ringing in his ears. He was going to be sick.

His heart raced and the cold night air suddenly felt very hot. He had escaped his family only to deliver himself right back into their hands. They wanted him to kill this time, not hurt, but to kill.

He was not a killer.

“Do it or you know what will happened. One last warning, you won’t get another.” His father muttered.

His hand around his wand was sweating so badly his wand felt wet.

This could not be happening, it couldn’t be happening!

Not again.

He remembered the pain, the hot burning pain ripping through every fiber of his being, it had been more than agony. He never wanted to feel that again, ever.

“Cruc-“ His father started in a whisper so the Notts wouldn’t hear.

“CONFRINGO!” Ominis yelled in pure terror, such was his fear he wasn’t thinking straight and the wrong words came out of his mouth, rather than setting them on fire, he had-

Tears were running down his face as his wand trembled in his hand.

The resulting explosion that followed only made him flinch more, right into his father’s arms.

There was a great heat, his fingers felt burned, he fell into his father then landed on the ground, he curled his legs up and tried to protect himself from the Cruciatus Curse that was surely about to hit him any second.

It never came.

While he lay cowering, he became aware of Marvolo roaring with laughter. It sounded like his brother was also on the floor, his laughing so great he couldn’t stand, then came the sick thud, thud, thud of many wet things hitting the floor, causing Marvolo to scream in mirth.

“Incendio not good enough darling?” Came his mother’s voice, touching his face. “My little boy likes the dramatics.”

The Notts were also laughing, clearly not noticing what had really happened.

“His spell threw him backwards, amazing!”

Ominis raised his head when he felt hands picking him up. Marvolo was left on the ground, it sounded like he was crying and struggling to breath, from all his laughing.

“You blew them up!” He gasped. “That was magnificent! We only wanted a fire, but that explosion! Brother! There’s pieces of Muggle everywhere! They are splatted up the house walls!”

Ominis didn’t need eyes to know what had caused the thudding noises.

‘Eat now?’ Came Mori’s voice

“Yes Mori, and look, Ominis blew your food into small bite sizes” Marvolo chuckled.

Somebody lifted his hands and he felt a wand tapping gently as somebody healed his scorched fingers.

“A little messier than expected.” His father sounded as delighted as his mother. “You did well my son. Ah, he burned his hands dear, but it’s all healed now.”

The fire was blazing hot, the pieces of the Muggles currently not in the flames were strewn around the Gaunt’s normally perfect garden, with Mori feasting freely upon them.

“The food remains untouched” Mr Nott sounded upbeat. “Shame about the bonfire, but I do enjoy pyromantics, you have raised your son well, Gaunt.”

“He is a wonderful gentleman in the making, come Ominis, Marvolo, get some food.”

Ominis was half carried to the food table, handed a plate filled with food.

He sat, horror and shock gripping him. When the Notts were not looking, Marvolo pushed food into his mouth, rubbed the tears from Ominis’ face and pushed down his trembling hands.

None of the Notts suspected anything, nor did they notice Ominis collapsing and Marvolo taking him to bed.

“He’s tired.” Mrs Gaunt said affectionately, when Ominis’ disappearance was noted. “He’s only sixteen, he can’t stay awake as long as Marvolo can, we are very firm about bedtimes until they are off age.”

The night closed with the remaining Gaunt’s and the Notts playing a wonderful trick on the Muggles.

The year 1892 opened to a beautiful red winter sunrise, pinks and oranges filled the sky but it was all flooded out by a low red sun.

Some of the houses still had festive decorations up, but any festive mood was ended abruptly once the screaming started.

The police were summoned by a running man coming in from the streets, all around people were rushing to the police to report another nightmare finding.

It appeared, to the confused policeman, to be multiple victims of exploding houses, possible due to a fire and a build up of gas, such things sadly did happen when homeowners neglected to hire a chimney sweep. However one giant fact broke this theory, no houses had blown up. The policeman, growing more and more concerned by more and more body parts turning up all around town, came to the conclusion it could be the killer known as Jack the Ripper. He had never been caught and he had been quite for a few short months, it could be likely he was now in the north of England rather than London. The police would issue a curfew for women to be home before dark and for his force to patrol the streets, in the meantime, more body parts turned up, including one that sent horror and despair through the town of Little Hangleton. Nobody could explain it, but everybody could see it. Far up on the church roof, too high for any man to climb, was a served head looking down at everybody below.

A few streets away, in the village center, a man with a hat pulled low over his eyes glanced up at the house on the hill in the distance. The gruesome discoveries of that morning were still being found by his group of Aurors, they vanished them and altered the memories of the Muggles in this area. The story they had placed in the none magically community was a Muggle duel had broken out, but the unexplained explosion had all the signs of magic origin. The head Auror kept looking up at the House of Gaunt, he knew exactly what had happened here. This was their work, he just knew it, however he was helpless to act. Even if he were to march his Aurors up the hill right this very second, there was no hard proof the Gaunts did this, just his inking, and that family were very well protected. If he tried to take on the Gaunts, it was more likely the entire Auror office would be forced to disbanded on some cock and bull claim against them.

He sighed and vowed right there, that one day, one day, he would bring that family in.

[kyopmi]

♡ — good morning :-)

akaashi keiji x gn!reader

nothing but fluff and hilarity in the akaashi household on one fine morning, 1.3k words

mornings like today have been far and few between lately — a rare, peaceful start to your and akaashi keiji's day where neither of you have any work scheduled for the entire day, where you can fully bask in each other's presence without handfuls of deadlines or dreaded morning commute chasing after you.

and heaven knows no one deserves this more than akaashi. 

after having to work overtime for almost the entirety of the past two weeks, akaashi is looking forward to being woken up not by his alarm, but by the gentle sunlight that filters through the curtains of your room, along with the familiarity of your warmth tucked comfortably into his side, and he can pull you into his arms and the two of you can cuddle under the sheets for the whole day (or at least, until one of you gets hungry). he wants it so bad that he’s pretty sure he had dreamed about it last night, though there was also something about bokuto flying on a giant pink bunny in his dream...

unfortunately, his fairytale fantasy is cut short when he actually wakes up to find your side of the bed empty, with most of the sheets covering him up to his chin.

disgruntled, akaashi immediately sits up in bed and fights back a yawn, eyes half-squinting as he looks around your shared bedroom. 

no sight of you anywhere.

a few seconds later, his other senses start to wake up with him and a delicious smell wafts into the room, along with a quiet sizzling noise coming from the kitchen down the hall. the overworked editor is immediately on his feet, walking towards you and leaving the bed unmade because he’s sure it won’t be long before the two of you will be messing it up again.

he has to admit, the sight that greets him upon entering the kitchen is probably just as amazing as waking up next to you. your back is facing him as you busy yourself on the stove, the cute owl-print apron tied over his oversized shirt that hangs loosely on your shoulders, giving him a peek at your bare legs, and your look is completed by a pair of fluffy, pink bunny slippers on your feet. the scruffy brown dog the two of you had adopted several months ago sits patiently on the floor next to you, her tail wagging hopefully as she looks up at you in hopes of getting any scraps of food.

your dog - appropriately named choco - is the one who gives akaashi’s position away, as your furry friend senses his presence and turns back to look at him, giving an enthusiastic woof! that catches your attention.

“oh- keiji! you’re awake!” you exclaim in surprise, though you don’t look too happy. 

akaashi can’t help the smile growing on his face, stepping closer towards you and snaking his arms around your figure before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on the small pout on your lips. “good morning to you, too, love,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt in his voice as he presses another quick kiss to your forehead. “sorry, am i not supposed to be awake?”

“well, no,” you shake your head. “you’re supposed to be sleeping in on your day off, and then me and choco were supposed to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

his melodic laugh fills the room and your heart swoons, feeling like it’s been far too long since you’ve heard it.

“well, my apologies for ruining your plans,” akaashi says, “but i think the sooner i get to see you, the better.”

you feel your cheeks warm at his declaration. “you always have a way with your words, huh?” you mutter under your breath, closing the gap between you and akaashi as you hide your face in his chest.

you can’t see it, but there’s a dopey grin on your husband’s face now, trying his best to bite back a laugh at your antics. choco looks up at the two of you curiously.

much too soon for your liking, the two of you pull away from each other and easily ease into a comfortable rhythm around the kitchen, with you finishing up the cooking while akaashi grabs two plates and some cutleries to set on the table. 

“anything else i can help with, darling?” akaashi asks.

“hm, i’m almost done here. you can put the kettle on for some tea, if you’d like,” you suggest, to which he hums in acknowledgement.

there’s a content silence that falls between you, the only sound coming from the shuffling around the kitchen with choco padding along behind akaashi as he moves around. he dutifully does as he’s told, pulling out a pair of matching teacups and saucers from the cupboard along with your favorite blend of tea leaves as he waits for the water to heat up. next, he reaches for the jar of honey on the counter and the bottle of milk in the fridge. 

“the new brand of milk you bought tastes great, by the way. i’ve been having it in my tea and coffee all week,” akaashi comments as he pours the hot water over the tea leaves, allowing it to steep. “we’re almost out, though.”

at his statement, your brows furrow in confusion. “i didn’t get a new brand of milk, keiji,” you reply, confusion evident in your voice as you turn to look at him.

akaashi is just as confused, raising the bottle he had retrieved from the fridge to show you. “what do you mean? here it is.”

indeed, he’s holding a bottle of milk in his hand, but the realization soon dawns on you, making you gasp and clap your hand over your mouth.

“keiji!” you squeak, “that’s goat milk. for dogs. that’s choco’s milk!”

“what?” 

you have to hold back a giggle as you quickly scurry towards him. “look, it says here,” you point towards the label at the front of the bottle. 

sure enough, when akaashi further inspects the bottle, there’s a print that says “goat milk” under the brand name and right under that — “for dogs”. he can’t believe he had missed it during the many times he had pulled it out of the fridge and tipped its contents into his mug. then again, he may have been half-asleep the past few mornings while he was concocting his overly-caffeinated beverages, only noting that he feels much more awake after he’s had several gulps of it.

you’re full on laughing now, partly at the absurdity of the situation and partly at the look of gobsmacked disbelief on your husband’s face.

“don’t worry, kei,” you reassure between giggles, “it’s made from all human-grade ingredients. you should be fine.”

akaashi definitely feels much better at your words, though now he can feel a blush creeping up the tips of his ears. “that’s a relief,” he sighs, setting the bottle of milk back at the table. “for a second, you had me worried i’ll be growing a shiny fur coat of my own.”

you snort at his joke. “well, if that happens, i hope you’ll get used to sleeping in the living room with choco,” you tease. at the mention of her name, choco yips again in excitement. “see — she’s already agreeing.”

before you can say another word, akaashi swiftly wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you flush against him, eliciting a surprised yelp out of you.

“hm, you sure you want that, darling?” he hums, almost a whisper, deliciously close to your ear and sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. “and speaking of sleeping,” he continues, “i think the two of us can do a little more sleeping of our own after breakfast.

can’t let the bed get too cold, after all.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Designer Maryam Mahdavi’s Brussels home looks like a theater set. It’s full of rich colors and luxurious, unexpected objects.

Thru the Art Nouveau doors you first catch a glimpse of her taxidermied lion, sometimes wearing a pink top hat. Notice also, the disco balls on the floor. 

Monochromatic color is currently popular among designers now, and Maryam’s home features lots of blue.

The kitchen off the sitting room has painted green cabinetry and earthy accents.

Artworks, accessories and furniture are all over Maryam’s home, which uses a natural fiber floor bought at an auction in Spain. In the foreground, a 1950s porcelain French poodle on a low table adds a dash of whimsy.

A snug bar area features a pendant lamp, disco ball, leopard print fridge cover and cushion, and a bamboo bead curtain depicting Frida Kahlo.

A trio of wallpapers with pastel prints share space on the lower level, where a blue chair matches the room’s cool tone.

Beside the retro pink chair in the corner of the mezzanine is an industrial metal bar trolley.

A smaller sitting room has bright pink carpeting and a geometric wallpaper with matching fire screen. Also a taxidermied tiger and bird.

The bedroom is furnished with a Mulberry wallpaper and fabrics from Tangiers. A vintage lamp, a tapistry owl and a small side table are placed alongside the bed.

Guest room in the attic has two different wall colors and two different paper designs. 

https://gaelleleboulicaut.com/pictures/maryam-mahdavi-brussels-belgium/

[chiptrillino]

Aight, Izumi being sharp witted enough to argue effectively for lilypad frogs is incredible. I died laughing. Are there other petitions she has succeeded at?

Oh! Uh... aham –coughs and rasps and unfurls parchment roll-

Crown princess izumi, daughter of fire lord zuko, first of her name, protector of lily pad frogs, smuggler of turtle-duckling in her bed, the night owl, the giggling shadow, the moonpeach spirit, official colourist of her fathers block print illustrated theater books and court walls, breaker of shins and the fearless hairstylist of dragon manes.

Due to her young age of 8 years, the princess couldn’t achieve many victories by now but agreed to some truce with her father Fire lord Zuko. Which would be:

The absence of a sibling. After visiting Tenzin the first airbender, son of diplomat Katara of the southern water tribe and avatar Aang of the southern air temple. The princess, age 8, demands a sibling like her friends Kaya and Bumi II have. She argued to have someone to play with. The demand turned quickly unattractive after realizing that, and I quote: „Babies are icky and gross and loud.“ And she prefers to not share her father any more than she already has to.

The scheduled time for bed and sleep. Princess Izumi reasoned that, due being the princess of the fire nation, she should sleep when the sun sets, and wake up when the sun rises. Given the position of the fire nation in the world, fire lord zuko and former prince iroh argued that it would be way too late for the princess to sleep and early to wake up. Instead of continuing to argue with his daughter, fire lord zuko decided to let the princess try. After 5 days, the princess realised that sleep is too precious to give up. The current schedule is to go to bed by 8:30 pm, but to sleep around 9:30 pm. Princess Izumi naturally wakes up a few hours before sunrise and joins her fathers bed to cuddle through the rest of the morning til it is indeed time to get up.

Her personal office in the library. Princess Izumi may already has a room dedicated for her personal studies and hobbies. But the princess mentioned repeatedly that she would prefer to have easier access to her favorite books all the time. Because she can’t move most of the literature and natural science section of the library to her personal rooms, she requested to arrange a permanent office for her to stay. Due to the fact that the library should be accessible to all staff of the palace, and the librarian is not really fond of the idea of a small princess living there, (doesn’t matter how quiet she is, or promises to not sneak food in, while having still sticky fingers form the sweets she just ate) it came to the truce, to build a cozy corner dubbed „Izumi's office“ in the library. Where the princess can retreat to. It is a collection of various pillows and the curtains position changed to create a cozy tent to retreat to and have her peace.

Dragons can’t sleep in a bed, and neither do turtle-ducklings or lily-pad-frogs. Princess Izumi repeatedly tried to bring animals to sleep with her in bed. The truce now brought by princess azula was, here i quote: „Well you can’t tell a dragon what to do and what not to do. and Druk likes to check on you at night. So let's say, he sees the duckling or the frog there. I doubt he minds a midnight snack-“ Fire lord zuko's dark look didn’t detain his sister's small sharp smile, while the princess begann crying and refuses now to let Druk (or any other animal) to sleep in her bed for their safety. (Druk is not happy about this arrangement. Druk now sleeps at the foot of the princess bed but misses the nights he was allowed to snuggle to the princess)

Debates princess Izumi won:

Staying over for a sleepover, in republic city, for a prolonged time of an entire week. My or may not have had assistence by Diplomat Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, Avatar Aang of the southern Air temple, and their kids Bumi and Kaya. After the guaranteed safety by the word of Avatar Aang, and the fire lords sceptical acceptance. Princess Izumi stayed on Air temple island for an additional week before returning to the fire nation on the back of Avatar Aang's trusted companion, the sky bison Appa. On her fathers question, if the princess had fun. The princess excitedly told him about bedgeer-moles, sabertooth-lion and the unagi princess Izumi, Bumi II and Kaya got to pet and ride. (nobody can proof that fire lord zuko burned off parts of avatar aangs 'ridiculous’ mustache later during training)

Acquisition and keeping of a set of throwing knives. Thanks to princess Azula, lady Mai and lady Suki. Princess Izumi acquired a beautiful set of throwing knives that lady Mai was about to teach the young princess how to use. After ‘accidentally’ cutting part of lieutenant Chan’s top knot off, fire lord Zuko had doubts his daughter really understood that the knives are a weapon not a toy. During his investigation of the dispute it was discovered that lieutenant Chan, disrespected princess Azula, and said forbidden insults towards Kaya, who was playing with the princess at the pond. Now private Chan, got transferred to a station in the Wa shi tong desert. And princess Izumi got to keep her nice shiny trowing knifes. (she gifted the cut of top know her aunt, princess Azula)

Promise to spend the summer at the south pole, while it is winter there. It may, was more of a debate about her father taking more time off, for a longer vacation. Fire lord Zuko was easily swayed by two pairs of big round shiny eyes. The golden one belongs to princess Izumi and the blue ones belong to ambassador Sokka. (it wasn’t a long debate. Fire lord zuko seemed oddly eager alreaddy preparing to escape, flee leave the palace the next day.)

Driving the mailing system in omashu! Thanks to the encouragement of Avatar Aang and ambassador Sokka’s comment „It builds character“ Fire Lord Zuko agreed to let his daughter ride with her friends, Bumi II and Kaya down the slope of the mailing system. A decision the Firelord and the avatar regretted after the property damage of a cabbages cart.

[iwhishtomeetinournextlife]

An anonymous love (Part 1)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particulary rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, reader is worried about Sirius, not proof read

Word count : 1.8k

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

You're here - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

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Y/N loved receiving letters but even more sending them, she loved including all sorts of little gifts in hers; flowers, drawings, photographs, candies sometimes, she loved it even more now she was a witch,  she started doing experiments with her magic. She learned how to make the drawings moves, charms the flowers so they would reopen as fresh as new, she even found a way for the letter to be read out loud if desire, in a way were it doesn’t fold and destroy itself the ways howlers do, so it could be listen to over and over again, her family especially loved that one.

She wanted to see now if could even include kisses, or even hugs, the feeling of arm wrapping around you to squeeze you tight was one of the best feeling to her and she wanted to be able to send it to anyone, so they could feel it whenever they wanted.

She was able to put the hugs and the kisses on little cards who had to be unfold, it took many mistake, accidents and retry but she was able to do it after some times. It wasn’t as reusable has she had hoped, only three uses who doesn’t last more than five seconds, but she was confident enough to know she will do better in the future.

She had send her last version to her parents a few days ago, one she was the proudest of, and was now waiting for their respond. Making sure everything was perfect was important as the first time she tried to do it the message felt like a dagger stabbing her chest. Thankfully she had no injuries, Mrs Pomfrey assured her there were nothing, the pain stayed a few hours though and she could have kissed the nurse for excusing her from the morning class that day, she would have not been able to work anyway.

Y/N was now waiting at the slytherin table next to the few friends she was able to make among her own house, quietly eating while listening to the crazy story of the friend on her right, laughing joyfully. She turned her head when she saw the owls starting to enter the room, eager to find if she will receives the respond of her parents, she watch as the other student opened their own mail, including the raven-haired boy at the gryffindor table, Sirius Black.

He had catch the eye of Y/N like many others, girls and boys, but she never dared to make a move, she was a slytherin and she knew how much he hated them. She had thought many times to send him an anonymous later but what for ? It would be a lost cost and she rather let the feeling die rather than being hurt. Well, at least she thought her feelings would disappear as time went by but she was incredibly wrong, it only got more intense.

Being in most of his classes was of no help, his cocky behavior, his stunning looks and charming smile. What bugged her the most was how brilliant he was, she never saw him study or even really paid good attention in class but was somehow able to earn good marks. She was a bit jealous of him for that if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t a bad student per say but did have to be focused and study to have good grades. They talked a few times before, mostly him helping her out with classes but he was nothing but nice and patient with her despote the green of her tie.

She fell for him even more when she saw him helping first years travelling the corridors and defending a third year against her bully, the punch was perfectly aimed for Merlin’s sake ! She loved every story he told her, all the pranks, the aventures, the quidditch match. The more she learned about him, the more difficult it was for her to keep her eye away from him.

“You’re drooling again”, Jacob snapped her out of her mind “ ‘m not !” swipping her lips just to be sure, making her friends laugh, she was red of embarassment, so out she hadn’t notice the owl giving her her parent’s letter. She gratefully took it before giving a bit of food to the owl who then flied away. Y/N got interrupt has she was opening the enveloppe.

“C’mon, you cant’ keep looking at him from afar for the rest of school ! Talk to him for once and save us the lover eyes !” said Olivia, “I can’t, you know he hates slytherins” her friend opened her mouth to protest before being cut. “Plus, he is way out of my league, he is like-" Y/N hesited a bit on her words, waving her hand around “- a sun giving life around him and I’m just somekind of, I don’t know, insect in the dirt”. Her friends around all gave a chorus of long sighs, they heard that a million times before, she rolled her eyes “My point is, I will never have the courage to ask him out”.

Before anyone could talk, a loud sound was heard comming from the gryffindor table, followed by the sound of turn up paper. When Y/N looked, she frowned, seeing Sirius almost running out of the room. “Wait mate !” James Potter, his best friend, tried to follow him but Remus Lupin stopped him. Y/N didn’t quite catch what they were saying, something about him needing to be alone.

And alone he stayed, she didn’t see him for the rest of the day, and she learned during the dinner that night it was because of the letter he received from home, it was quite known by most of the people who cared enough to be aware of the disastrous relationship of Sirius and his family, as it wasn’t unusual to see the boy upset because of his mother. Y/N’s blood boiled every time it would happened, how could someone treat their child that way ? Taking their time to write every horrid words just to cause pain ? Using something she loved so much to cause trouble instead as it should be : for the one you loved.

The scene earlier that day worked her up so much, she put her parent’s latter away without reading it, and it is only now in her bed she remembered even having it. She smiled at the curved letters, it was her mother’s handwritting, she very enthousiatly explain how her and her dad loved the hug, that coupled with the speaking spell “It was like you were right here with us !”, well not quite as she precised right after, but it felt nice to feel and hear their daughter after so many weeks apparts. She laughted when her father this time wrote she should find a way to commercial it, as she will become the richest witch of the wizard world. “Sure thing dad” she thought to herself. She carefully fold the paper before putting it in her “letter box”.

Then when she laid down, she couldn’t stop feeling sad for Sirius, he had such terrible parents but deserved so much more. She turned and turned and turned around in her bed, searching for a way to cheer him up and then she stopped, thinking of the letter of her parents and the success of the hug in the message, perhaps, she could send him something ..? She blushed at the idea, what could she says ? “Hey, your parents suck but your butty could send me in outter space”, sure, yeah, what a great idea Y/N.

She sighed, fine, maybe not that harsh but she could try to remind him how much is he loved here and how much of a great person he is. So she sat down in her bed, took a piece of parchment, her ink and her quill, careful to not wake up her roomates as she closed her curtains. She blow air through her mouth for a minute, gathering some courage, and then she start to write, hoping he would like it.

----------------------------------------------------

The next day when she woke up, or more like when it was time to get ready since she didn’t close her eye all night, wanting the message to be perfect : the drawing, an illustration of a dog, a stag, a rat and the moon, remembering the nickname and the jokes the marauders gave and made to eachothers, she charmed it for the little animals to run around the paper, leaving paws or hooves print behind –which disappear after a few step of course-, the curves of the words, the ink, she had opt for her favorite dark purple, the flowers had she picked, some wind-flower and cyclamen, that she carefully stuck to the parchment.

And of course the final touch : a kiss on the forhead. She had thought of a hug but decided it was too much, it could be scary to suddenly feels arms around you. A smol kiss was more appropriate, a bit bold yeah, but more fleeting, less intimidating and still a tender gesture.

When she was happy with the result and check any error in her words she put the message in an envelopt, decorated with stars, showing the cannis constellation, because of Sirius name obviously. And then put it in her bag, careful so her friend would not see it.

Once she was ready and out of her room with her friends, she realised she had no idea on how to give it to him. Surely not by hand, she didn’t put her name anywhere for a reason, maybe slide it into his bag during class ? But she was to scared to be caught.

She didn’t have to worry about it to much, since Sirius wasn’t at the class she shared with him, his friends looked troubled and worried, calmer than usual. Y/N felt a weight setting in her stomach, was the letter that bad he didn’t want to show up today either ? When he wasn’t at lunch either, she decided to send him by owl.

She excused herself from her friend, saying she had to send a letter, it wasn’t unusual for her to do so, so they didn’t even flinch. Once at the owl aviary and once she gave it to an owl and walked away, trying not to think to much, she stop. What if the letter only made him more upset ? Of course nothing she wrote was mean, but what if he didn’t like at all the idea of some unknown person looking in his private life ? Feeling arrogant enough to think they could cheer him up when his friends, those whom he consider family, weren’t able to do it ? Y/N turned around to take the letter back but it was too late, the bird had fly away, and since he was at hogwarts, he will have it in a few minutes only.

She felt the weight in her stomach get heavier, she hoped so much it will not make things worse.

--------------------------

Hoped you liked my first fic ! I don't know when the second part will be posted but I'll do my best for it to be soon.

Have a nice day ! Love you <3

[shaynawrites23]

For Family Or For Love

Pairing: adult!Remus Lupin x reader

Word count: 2492

Prompts: “Are you scared of me?” “No. Never.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

Written for @johnmurphyisbisexual’s writing challenge!

Special thanks to @the-moon-and-the-book for both beta reading and coming up with the title!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The heavy door to your private chambers creaked open to reveal the room’s other occupant; your husband, Remus Lupin. He carried an enormous stack of tests to grade in one hand, two cups of coffee in the other, and he held a newspaper clenched between his teeth. He shut the door the same way he opened it; with his foot.

You leapt forward to help him, taking some of the items from where they balanced precariously in his hold, constantly on the verge of falling. He breathed a sigh of thanks, pressing a kiss to your temple as you made your way to the bed.

Upon closer inspection, you realized half the papers he had brought in were actually yours. You taught Herbology and had recently assigned an essay. You hummed in gratitude when Remus handed you a pastry and a couple of colored muggle pens. You knew the older members of the faculty preferred quill and ink, but you chose pens. They were easier to use and much less tedious to maintain.

He smiled softly, humming in acknowledgement as you both sat down to mark papers. The room lapsed into silence, the only sound being the clicking of pens and the occasional mutters of disapproval when either of you saw something you didn’t particularly like.

A tapping on the window broke you out of your concentration. You spun around, eyes searching for the source of the sound when you spotted a small brown owl perched on the windowsill, rapping its beak against the glass.

A messenger owl.

You jumped up, hurrying over to fling open the window and welcome the creature inside. The poor thing was soaked through; it was pouring outside.

“Rem, will you get me a towel for the owl?”

“Sure thing, love.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and emerged moments later with a navy blue towel.

You gently wrapped the owl up in the cloth, hoping it would help the animal get warm and dry.

There was a small cylindrical vessel strapped to the owl’s back, colored a deep red, like the darkest red visible during a sunset. You undid the clasps holding it in place, popping off the cap and peering inside. The case held a sheet of paper, rolled up tightly in order to make it fit.

“Who’s it from?” Remus’s gentle voice inquired.

You didn’t reply immediately, unfurling the note and letting your eyes fly over the words first.

“My parents,” you finally answered. “They want to have us over for dinner tomorrow evening.”

“That’ll be a welcome distraction from marking papers,” he remarked.

Remus was on relatively good terms with your family. They were somewhat sceptical of his background at first, but decided they would be happy as long as you were. Your father gave a very nervous and jittery Remus his blessing shortly before he proposed, and you had been happily married ever since.

You laughed. “Definitely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning, your hand searched the bed for Remus, for his warmth. You found nothing. Only when your fingers reached the edge of the bed, the precipice between the sheets and the floor, did you open your eyes.

You blinked blearily, letting your eyes get accustomed to the light entering through the small gap between the curtains. Remus was nowhere to be seen.

Throwing on your robes, you shuffled over to the bathroom and peered inside. Where was he? He was indeed a morning person, but there was no reason for him to be up this early in the weekend.

Your incessant internal questions were soon answered when you heard the telltale creak of the heavy wooden door. Remus entered; you could tell from his hunched shoulders he was deep in thought. The dark circles under his eyes told you he had probably not slept much the past few hours.

“Rem? Remus, is everything all right?” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, simply holding up a newspaper and muttering, “See for yourself.”

So you took the paper from him, sitting on the bed as you turned the pages in an attempt to find out what exactly was troubling him so. The sound of the paper crackling under your fingers which usually held so much satisfaction for you, gave you no pleasure this time.

“Oh no.”

You now knew what it was, you knew what had upset him. The fifth page of the paper held a picture of him; it depicted him perfectly, there was no chance of anyone not recognize him. And on the off chance someone didn’t connect the dots, his name was printed right below it. The article revealed his true nature, his lycanthropy, informing everyone who didn’t yet know that Hogwarts’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a werewolf.

You glanced up. Remus stood at the open window, both hands leaning on the windowsill as he looked out over the school grounds. You could tell from his posture he was incredibly worried, and he had every right to be. No one would hire a werewolf, much less send their child to a school which had one employed as a teacher.

“Remus?”

“How could this happen?” His voice cracked and you knew he was trying his very best to keep control of his emotions. “We were so careful, how is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured. “But we’ll handle this the way we always do; together.”

“There’s nothing left to handle.”

“Remus, my love, don’t give up hope. There’s always something. Perhaps my family can help; they have a well-respected name.”

He didn’t reply immediately, instead gazing out over the field where students were playing, studying, or just hanging out.

“They don’t know yet, do they?” It was not a question, more like a statement, as you both knew it to be true.

“They don’t- they didn’t,” you sighed. “But my family knows you. We’re married, for Merlin’s sake. They’re not going to shun you.”

“We shall see about that,” he muttered, straightening up nevertheless. “In the meantime, I should probably have a talk with Minnie. I’ll see you later for lunch?”

You nodded. “As always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fastening your hairpin, you gave yourself a final once over in the mirror. You were dressed to the nines, and yet you wouldn’t classify your attire as too fancy for the occasion. Satisfied with your appearance, you exited the bathroom adjoining your shared bedroom to go look for Remus.

“Rem?” you called. “You ready to go?

You opened the door separating your bedroom from the hallway with its incredibly high ceilings, as could be expected from any old building. Your husband stood outside, leaning against the wall as he waited.

He hummed in confirmation, a soft smile spreading over his face at the sight of you. He reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours as he twirled you around slowly, admiration plain in his eyes. Pulling you close, he pressed his lips to yours, gingerly, as though you were the most precious treasure one could possibly imagine.

“Rem!” you laughed, “We have to go! You know my mother hates when we’re late!”

“As my lady wishes.”

With that, he waved his wand and you disapparated, reapparating right outside your parents’ large house. Walking up the cold stone steps, you felt Remus stiffen slightly, and you squeezed his hand. A comforting gesture, one he immediately returned.

The doorbell sounded loudly, chiming once, twice, three times before falling silent. You waited as quick, light footsteps approached, flinging open the door.

“Auntie (y/n)!” the young girl cried, jumping up and down in excitement. It was your young niece Ada, dressed in a pretty pink skirt and with her hair coiffed in cute, bouncy curls. “It’s auntie (y/n)!”

Another set of footsteps approached, slower and calmer than Ada’s. Your mother appeared in the doorway, smiling and greeting you and Remus as she ushered you inside.

“Dinner’s not ready yet,” she remarked casually as she returned to the kitchen, presumably to continue preparing the meal.

Little Ada remained by your side, dragging you by your hand to come look at her latest drawing. Remus still stood in the hall, but the young girl kept you so occupied you could do little more than glance at him every few minutes.

Your father and your brother soon entered, laughing loudly at what must have been an incredibly funny joke.

“Ah, (y/n)!” your father exclaimed when he spotted you sitting in a corner with Ada on your lap and a children’s book in your hand. “I see Ada’s gotten to you already.”

“Yes, she has. I didn’t remember her having this much energy the last time,” you joked, but Ada tugged on your arm to remind you you were supposed to be reading her fairytales.

“Ah, and Remus.” You couldn’t help but notice how much less enthusiastic your father’s greeting was when it was addressed to your husband.

“How’s Edward doing?” your brother cut in. “Not causing too much trouble, I hope?”

Edward was your brother’s eldest child, older than Ava by six years. He started his first year at Hogwarts that year, and your brother was rather anxious about his progress.

“He’s doing very well in his classes,” Remus replied. “Naturally, he’s pulled a couple of pranks here and there, but that is to be expected from such an energetic young lad like him.”

“I see. And no issues with… supernatural creatures?”

Your head snapped up at that. Ada whined for you to continue reading, but you simply told her to wait a moment. You were certain there was a venomous serpent hiding somewhere in your brother’s words, and when it would jump out to ambush you, someone was sure to get hurt.

Remus remained perfectly calm. “None that I am aware of. The boy’s a very talented wizard; he has proven himself very capable of defeating any creature we presented him with.”

Your brother’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and as if struck by a lightning bolt of insight, you know this was heading downhill. It was only a matter of moments before he’d attack Remus about his lycanthropy.

You were right.

“Lupin, you’re a danger to the children! It’s not safe for them to be around you.”

“He is not!” you burst out. You stood up and stalked over to them, the fairytale long forgotten.

“He’s a werewolf.” Your brother spoke in the same tone you’d heard him use when explaining things to Ada; things that one would expect to be obvious.

“He’s also a professor, and has been for years. Nothing’s happened.”

“Maybe not yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

Your mother emerged from the kitchen, clearly wondering what on earth was going on. Rather than engage herself in the argument, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe.

Remus’s hand searched for yours, entwining his fingers with yours as soon as he found it. You noticed your brother’s gaze fly towards the gesture, as if he feared a more nefarious action. But Remus was simply holding your hand, squeezing gently as if to say, ‘calm down, love.’

“(y/n), get away from him.” Your brother’s order hung in the air like a sword dangling above both your heads, waiting to see who would give in first. Your parents seemed to want to intervene, but you could tell they didn’t know what to do.

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No, I won’t.” You felt like a defiant child arguing with a parent, but that didn’t matter to you. “He’s my husband and I love him. Werewolf or not.”

“It’s okay, darling,” Remus whispered to you, tone low enough that no one else could catch his words.

“What, are you threatening her now?” Your brother was clearly beyond seeing reason, too angry to think logically.

Remus was caught off guard by that accusation, and unfortunately for him, his split second’s hesitation was plain to see. “I merely told her it was okay, that she doesn’t need to fight for my honor.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I am not in the habit of lying. I am an honest man and am telling the truth.” There was a stark contrast between your brother’s wild accusations and Remus’s calm demeanor. You only hoped it would not simply pour more oil onto the fire.

“You’re a monster,” he finally spat, as if the words themselves were pure poison. “How do we know it’s not only a matter of time before you hurt (y/n)?”

That was a low blow and you all knew it. Your mother gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock.

“I would never hurt her.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t, but what about the wolf?”

Neither of you could answer that, both fully aware he didn’t have that much control over his other half.

“Please excuse me,” Remus muttered, glancing at your parents before grabbing his coat and leaving the building.

“There. Look what you’ve done. That was low and we all know it,” you seethed.

“(y/n), he’s dangerous! He could kill you!”

“So what? So could any other wizard. So could you, or mom. So could Ada, if she were determined enough.” You crossed your arms as you reached deep inside yourself, attempting to maintain your composure.

“But you can trust we won’t.”

“What? I can trust the same of him. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trust him.”

“So you would trust a wolf not to attack?” Your brother took two steps forward, as if his subconscious wanted to intimidate you into losing the argument. Nice try. You weren’t easily intimidated.

“He’s not a wolf! He’s Remus. My husband.”

You saw the surprise on his face when you emphasized your relationship with Remus, and you took that opportunity to continue.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” With that, you stalked out as well, waiting until you disappeared behind the hedge outside to run after Remus.

He probably heard you coming, because you found him standing around the corner, as if he were waiting. The look in his eyes told you he had probably fought with himself to decide whether or not to wait for you to catch up.

“Rem, please ignore what he said. I know it’s hard, but he’s spewing nonsense.”

“Love, are you scared of me?”

“No. Never.” He had barely gotten his words out before you replied, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Your family seems to think you should be.”

“Remus, it doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He stepped closer to you, cradling your cheek gently, as if he were afraid you’d shatter like glass if he was just slightly too rough with you.

Leaning in slowly, he captured your lips with his in a sweet kiss. And that alone conveyed all he needed to say.

“I love you too.”

taglist: @the-moon-and-the-book @decalcomanei @emcchi

[kxlinthesky]

EPISODE 1+2 LIGHT NOVEL Chapter 1-5 English Translation

“This is crazy. I think we ended up at a party instead of an auction!”

“It’s an exhibition by the rich, for the rich. What did you expect?”

 That night, Owl and Nick returned to the museum, and as they watched the guests arrive one after another, they let their thoughts be known.

Famously wealthy individuals, politicians, and nobles were all gathering together, with the occasional performer or philanthropist mingling among them as well, forming quite the five-star roster of distinguished personages. The steady stream of patrons, adorned in gorgeous gowns and haute couture suits, flowed up the red-carpeted steps to the venue.

At the entrance, each guest verified their invitation and received a badge and a paddle, each emblazoned with a number. They then passed through an arch decorated with crimson roses and into a hall full of rows of luxurious armchairs, also numbered. Staff members in evening attire led the guests to their respective seats based on the number they’d received. Upon being seated, each guest received a single catalog listing every item up for auction. They opened their catalogs with sparkling eyes and began to scope out their respective targets.

Nick surveyed the scene from a corner of the room, locating each famous person and pointing them out to Owl. “That’s Charles Rose the stage actress, and over there’s the dancer Antonio Brock! This is so cool!”

Owl, however, did nothing but scowl at the gaudy display, grumbling, “I feel like my eyes are melting.” His reaction was understandable – between the flower curios, the crystal chandelier, the frilly curtains, the gold-trimmed furniture, and the massive glittering jewels adorning the guests’ ears and fingers and necks, the whole scene was so dazzling and lavish that the detective could barely keep his eyes open more than a slit.

Ritz was patrolling the hall, but she stopped by in the midst of one of her rounds to talk to the pair. “There’s no need for concern. The phantom thief will appear between 12:00 and 12:15. We should conserve our energy for the time being, else we’ll be running on fumes by the time he actually appears, right?” She didn’t give them time to answer, though, instead pointing and adding angrily, “But before that, what happened to your clothes? I gave you tailcoats in your sizes!”

“Yeah, but they were hard to move around in. Constricted the throat, too.” Nick patted his neck for emphasis.

“This is my only haute couture coat, more-or-less,” added Owl, gesturing to his sleeve cuffs.

“I’m telling you that you stand out!”

Ritz obviously wanted them to blend in a bit better, but the two remained in their little corner of the room, utterly unruffled. “All they’re doing is looking at their catalogs,” Owl pointed out. “They only have eyes for the treasures before them. We’re pebbles on the side of the road compared to that.”

Nick tacked on, “Actually, if there was anyone paying attention to us, that’d be even more suspicious, right? Someone like that might just be our thief.”

She could only sigh at their nonchalant attitudes. “No thief in the world would care a whit about an unknown detective.” Realizing further nitpicking was pointless, Ritz gave up the fight and held something out to Owl. “More importantly, take this. You said you wanted to see one, right?”

It was a catalog, identical to the ones the guests had. “Yeah, thanks,” Owl said as he took it.

“They were only just printed the day before yesterday, and there are only as many catalogs as there are guests, so please take care not to lose it.”

“I know.” Owl began rifling through the catalog. “Usually, you think of things like paintings and gemstones when you think of an auction, but they’ve got all kinds of stuff, huh?”

Nick peered at it as well, surprised by the contents. “There’s gloves, books…? Is that part of a letter? Totally illegible… and that looks like underwear. Is this stuff really going up for auction?”

“Anything will sell if there’s a demand for it. There will always be those interested in, say, an actress’ belongings or a famous artist’s rough sketches. Plus, this auction also serves as a charity, so there are lots of that nature as well.”

“Interesting.~” Nick seemed to understand, but he also shrugged and asked, “So who has an interest in the underwear, I wonder?”

“Even so, there are fifty items in total, right?” asked Owl. “The auction’s supposed to start at eight and end at ten – will they be able to sell everything?”

“Oh my, well, auctions tend to end rather quickly. A single lot takes around one or two minutes to sell,” she replied.

“That fast? I imagined it taking longer.”

“There are auctions out there that operate more slowly, but the quicker ones can end in just a few seconds. The most prized products start at higher prices and garner successful bids quite quickly.”

“Ah, makes sense. Those ones get sold at the first offer, you mean.”

“Precisely. And even if one item takes a little more time, the auctioneer and underbidders make the necessary adjustments, so there’s no need to fret.”

“An auctioneer is the guy who stands at the podium and slams the little wooden mallet thing and says ‘Sold!’, right?” Nick hummed. “That sounds like a cool gig.”

While Nick chattered about how he wanted to try his hand at auctioneering, Owl paused on the last page of the catalog – lot number fifty. The page had a picture of the statue, along with its size, materials, history, starting price, and minimum buyout cost, among other things. Owl cared about none of that; his gaze was fixed on the title.

“Hey, Ritz, you said the statue’s creator and origin and title were all unknown, didn’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Owl flipped the catalog to show her, pointing to the bit in question. “But it has a title listed right here.”

Ritz answered his implied question, “What you see there is simply a placeholder name. It would have been difficult to register it without a proper name, so the curator gave it one. There are other such unnamed items, as well, so they were given titles so as to not mix them up. In truth, the catalog was barely finished in time because of how much time it took giving everything names.” There was a faint undercurrent of curiosity in her tone, possibly wondering what had Owl so interested.

“Li’l D….” Owl flipped back to the front of the catalog and worked his way through again, scanning the names of every item from one to fifty, tracing the pages with his finger. His narrowed eyes blew wide. “Silver… moon… heavens….”

“Mr. Owl?”

“... That’s not right!” Owl slammed the catalog shut and checked his watch, asking Ritz, “Hey, did you get that ready?”

“‘That’ – ah, that. Yes, it should be arriving any minute now….”

“Good, install it before the auction starts. And I also need you to secure something while we still have time.”

Ritz inclined her head, startled at his sudden shift in attitude. “W-What is it? Please, enlighten me.”

More and more guests poured into the venue. The commotion was only growing louder. Amid the hustle and bustle, Owl whispered something in Ritz’s ear, and she gasped.

■■■■■■■■■■

With a reverberating bong, the clock on the wall struck eight.

 We welcome everyone who has graced us with their presence this evening. It is no mistake that your good fortune is the envy of the world. Masterpieces of exceeding quality and rarity, gold and silver and treasures galore, all of this and more is ready and waiting to be delivered into your hands. All you have to do is combine your zeal and your fortune, and win!

Envy the fact that the treasures are already in the palm of your hand. Ache forevermore for the possessions you will come to hold.

Are you prepared for battle? Are your throats warmed up, ready to scream your passion to the heavens?

... Very well. Then let us begin!

 “The Westpool Auction is now in session!”

A dry clack echoed through the hall as the gavel struck, and with it came a burst of cheers from the guests. Their excitement only rose as the auction goods were carried in one after another.

The auctioneer fanned the flames even further as he tapped his gavel and proclaimed, “Lot number one comes from a famous artist known for paintings that stir hearts and minds even today, Ivan Broughty. We have today a prized artwork of his previously shown at the Morris Art Exhibition, the nude painting ‘Simone!’”

As he spoke, a painting about four feet wide depicting a woman with bewitching golden skin was carried up to the stage and placed on a stand. Men in the audience breathed sighs of admiration at the sight.

“We’ll start the bidding at ten pounds!”

The battle flag rose among the guests the instant the auctioneer announced the starting price.

“Twenty!”

“Thirty!”

“Thirty-five!”

The auctioneer was doing an admirable job keeping up with the bids flying through the air. “Forty from number 21! Forty-three from number 9! Forty-five from number 33!” The numbers slowly rose underneath the gleaming chandelier.

“Fifty! Anyone else! Fifty-one!... I hear sixty!”

The price would occasionally jump up, causing a stir in the audience and relighting the spirit of battle within them. Still, the combatants began dropping out, one by one.

“Seventy-five! I hear seventy-five pounds from number 19, Sir Astudilo! Do I hear anyone else?!” The auctioneer glanced around the room. There was no one else. The battle had been decided. The gavel slammed down. “Sold! To Sir Astudilo for seventy-five pounds!”

A surge of applause welled up. The first lot had gone off without a hitch. While staff members passed documents to the winner, the auctioneer cracked a joke. “How do you like that, folks? Have you warmed up your voices now? Next time, you can go ahead and raise the price one digit at a time, I don’t mind!” Warm laughter rang through the hall. The auctioneer smiled and wasted no further time. “Now for our next item!”

Lot number two was a crown said to have once belonged to royalty inlaid with a bright blue teardrop-shaped sapphire. An underbidder called out the first bid, which the auctioneer immediately raised. The battle began anew, bids flying out of the participants’ mouths once more. The price rose and rose until the gavel fell.

The back-and-forth continued without pause, like some sort of sport… or perhaps more like an orchestra, with the auctioneer as the proverbial conductor waving his baton.

“This is really intense. We wouldn’t usually get to see something like this,” Nick whispered as he watched from the shadows. He was getting swept up in the atmosphere, excited by the rapid-fire bidding and delighted by the large sums of money changing hands. At the same time, though, he was also rather nonplussed by the distinct absence of a certain group. “Hey, was it really okay not telling the other detectives?”

Although he didn’t glance away from the proceedings, Owl replied, “I did.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, but they didn’t believe me. It looked like they were just gonna hang out in a different room until the thief is supposed to arrive.”

There was a note of pity in Owl’s tone that prompted a bitter laugh from Nick. “Oh, geez….”

“It’s fine. Better, even, since the thief might’ve figured out something’s up if there were too many eyes in here.”

“But a single no-name detective is no cause for concern.”

“Exactly.”

While the two chatted quietly, the auction continued apace. A magnificent black pearl ring, a legendary songstress’ high heels, white porcelain owned by an up-and-coming author, antique furniture, a rare stamp of a painting, each and every item fetched a pretty penny, and as they passed hands a swell of awed cheering rose up from the guests. Their senses were completely paralyzed by the staggering prices flying through the air. Most of them had lost all sense of time by the time the now-hoarse auctioneer spread his arms wide.

“Now, for the final item of the night!”

He took a big breath in, ready to announce the featured product of the auction….

“Finally.... You kept me waiting.”

BANG! The door to the hall burst wide open, revealing a lone man. Everyone turned to stare at the new arrival striding through the doorway with heavy footsteps. It was the man Owl and company had met earlier, Baron Shaun. A swarm of security guards trailed his heels.

The other guests were astonished by his sudden appearance, given that he hadn’t shown up for most of the auction. Several guests also wrinkled their noses or curled their lips in irritation. Perhaps they were the ones who knew something of Shaun’s reputation… or perhaps they had a dark history with the baron.

“That licentious old baron showed up,” someone said, but Baron Shaun kept up his broad smirk and plopped down in his assigned seat.

“Oi, the rest of you lot can go to sleep now for all I care, since I’m going to be buying this last item. That statue is already mine, so the poor ought to save their time and keep their traps shut!” At Shaun’s condescending tone, a few of the guests rose from their seats then and there and left the hall. Roughly eighty percent remained seated, all of them wearing expressions of either bewilderment or scorn. Shaun shouted at the auctioneer, “Oi! Hurry up and start the auction! Or you could dispose all of the formalities and let me buy it up-front!”

The auctioneer’s mouth visibly stiffened, but he was a professional. He continued on without losing his smile. “… It appears everyone is rather impatient. Well then, without further delay, I present to you the final item of the evening!” He pointed to the edge of the stage and proclaimed, “This snow-white statue of a young girl!”

There was the rumbling sound of something heavy being moved, and the statue was hauled up to the stage, wooden base and all.

“This lovely sculpture was discovered a scant few years ago,” the auctioneer told the guests. “No one knows where or when it was created, or even who the artist is! What is known is that it’s the height of artistry, that it’s been passed through many wealthy hands, and that it’s worth a considerable amount.”

The hall’s lights suddenly dimmed. Only the light centered above the statue remained burning bright, forming a spotlight over the item. Bathed in its light, the statue looked even more transparent, and when coupled with her praying figure, one could almost feel divinity fill the room.

“Now, everyone, please join us! The bidding starts at one hundred pounds!”

As soon as the auctioneer called a price, the battle began.

“One hundred twenty!”

“A hundred fifty!”

“Two hundred!”

The voices surged and resounded through the air, mixing and overlapping in a cacophony of sound. However, one voice cut through the nose and shook the entire hall.

“Five hundred.”

“... S-Sir Shaun, with five hundred!” The staggering price momentarily took the auctioneer’s breath away, and the battling guests dropped like flies. Still, there were a few brave souls still neck-deep in the fray. Seven hundred, eight-fifty, the price kept climbing, until once again, Shaun routed the enemy.

“A thousand.”

“We... we have a thousand pounds, ladies and gentlemen!”

And still others persisted. “Twelve hundred!”

“Sir Sand with twelve hundred!”

“Three thousand.”

The hall stirred. Baron Shaun had upped the stakes again, reaching the highest price seen all night. The last remaining bidders weakly lowered their hands.

“Three thousand pounds! Is there anyone else? Anyone at all?” The auctioneer glanced around the room. Shaun was already starting to stand, assured of his victory. Silence reigned for a few seconds before the auctioneer raised his gavel high. Everyone waited in anticipation for the confirmation of a three-thousand-pound winning bid!

– However.

 “The price has indeed reached the heavens!”

 An unknown voice echoed from somewhere along with a small zapping sound. The lights in the hall went out all at once, plunging the room into total darkness. A woman screamed.

“What happened?!”

Unrest spread through the hall like a tidal wave. Though invisible in the darkness, it felt like people were rising from their seats in a panic. There was a thumping sound, as if something that had been hanging had collapsed to the ground. Someone shouted, “Someone get a light!”

The hall had devolved into chaos in an instant.

Someone else scoffed at the situation. It was a young man’s voice. “Calm yourself,” he said. “If you desire a light, I have one for you right here.”

And with the rustle of a fluttering cape, a single candle flickered to life on the stage, and the woman from before screamed again.

Because holding the candlestick was a mysterious man.

 A pure-white cape. An equally white silk hat. A mask shaped like a pair of wings, one white, one black.

The man standing beside the statue, holding the candle high, was….

 “Hude Lou!”

Someone screamed. Confusion spread through the hall again.

Indeed, the man who had suddenly appeared was the phantom thief Hude Lou. He gave a gentlemanly bow, flicking his cape back. “The silver moon has reached the heavens,” he said. “Thus, as promised, I have come.”

“W-Why?! You were supposed to appear after the auction!”

“What are the police doing?!”

“Oi! Where are the detectives?!”

Someone screamed again.

The thief was only supposed to show up after the auction had concluded. The auction had only been permitted to move forward because the police had promised the guests that they would be safe!

“This isn’t what you promised! You broke your word!”

The thief let out a chuckle at the sound of the guests’ voices. His silver locks swayed as he gently shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever promise you claim I made, I assure you I did not. What you were told was simply a conclusion that others decided upon. But please, be at ease. I am a being of moonlight, fated to disappear beneath a dazzling light….”

Hude Lou pulled a gun out from under his cape, then pointed it skyward and fired. The candle blew out in time with the gunshot, sending the hall into darkness once more. The people fell into further terror as their sight was stolen.

“The statue is now in my possession! Everyone, I bid you a fond farewell!”

As Hude Lou’s voice echoed through the hall, it was accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. The night breeze began to flow through the broken window. The thief had escaped outside!

As everyone turned to the nearest windows, there was a floomph as they all caught fire – or rather, the curtains did. Each and every Empire-style curtain began brilliantly blazing, and surrounded by the massive flames, the guests began to outright panic.

“Save us!”

“I don’t wanna die!”

“Someone!”

They shoved their fellow guests aside, sending them flying, knocking down chairs, all scrambling for the exits… when with a loud bang, the door to the hall blew wide open, sending a shaft of light piercing through the darkness. Everyone blinked rapidly, trying to clear their dazzled eyes. Before them stood a girl in a police uniform – Ritz.

“Secure an evacuation route with the conducting wire! Squads one and two, charge in!”

At the sound of Ritz’s authoritative voice, a team of people wearing matching helmets burst through the emergency exits on either side of the door, carrying an unfamiliar apparatus with something hose-like protruding out of one end. Several of the men began to set up the machine.

“... The fire department?!” someone whispered at the sight.

“Begin extinguishing!” The commanding officer gave the signal, and the men began cranking a handle on the machine. Immediately a thick blast of water began erupting from the hose. Before their very eyes, the fires began to vanish.

Ritz called out, “Everyone, please evacuate this way! I will guide you! Please do not rush!” The guests started to calm down at her dignified voice and ran in her direction.

 The guests had evacuated, and the fires had been successfully extinguished, leaving only a burnt smell behind. Firefighters checked for any remaining embers. Police officers and security guards stood in blank amazement as they took in the scene. No one had predicted the turn of events, and no one knew what to do next.

A single guard called out, “Please keep away from the stage!” to Owl, who was visibly trying to climb up on it. “Oi! The on-scene investigation is about to commence! Don’t touch anything!”

Owl stood in front of the stage and took a deep breath.

The auctioneer’s podium stood in front of him, and next to it was the pedestal on which the lots had been placed. Until just a moment ago, it had held the statue… but no longer. It had vanished without a trace, as though it had never even existed, leaving only the wooden base behind.

“... He got us good.” Owl’s whispered words welled with vexation, but his expression held awe for the thief’s mastery. “What a superb ‘mystery.’”

           At that instant, Owl’s blood boiled.

           He burned fiercely with a sense of duty, his detective instincts alight.

           But he contained his excitement and held his breath, fists squeezed tightly, glaring holes into the pedestal, a predator bird that had found its prey.

original written by Nagaya Kawaji here