There is mistletoe above their heads. Well, these foolish things mean nothing. It must be a twins’ trick, just an innocent joke. Young noldoran laughs shyly, and so his fire-haired cousin does. The evening dusk is cosy in the fireplace hall, dinner almost ended.
Of course it’s foolish. They need no mistletoe to kiss each other after the feast.
Albus never celebrated Christmas. Especially after moving to Godric’s Hollow. He wanted to believe those traditions were alien to him and diligently ignored certain thoughts.
The thoughts he suddenly had when he looked at Gellert. It might have been the fifth or the sixth day of their combined lessons. They were practising magic far more complicated than the magic they were supposed to study in their year. They were absorbed in reading about blood magic and were trying practising legilimency. Albus was looking at Hellert foolishly thinking about Christmas mistletoe at the height of summer.
Later they began trying joint spells, testing their bond and the limits of the possible. “Together we can do anything”, Gellert said. “Even the mistletoe thing”. Albus laughed.
To love is to be able to wait. It is not waiting for something, getting worked up over it or trying to comfort yourself with the thought that in the end your closed one will come back and “explain everything”. It is not like this. To wait is to trust. To trust your closed one’s words, actions, behaviour. To wait is to believe in this person without keeping him in the shed of your fear.
If you are able to wait like this you will never be alone.
Detective Reed hasn’t seen his brother for years, long enough not to remember him on his birthdays, not to remember even at all. Like “I have nothing in common with this jackass, even our family names are different”.
Detective Reed has already been drinking for two weeks, and he has begun ignoring phone calls from the police station. At Christmas Eve somebody rings the doorbell and Reed thinks he has completely lost his mind. His brother gives him a tight hug. “Come here, Gav. Everything is gonna be alright”, his brother says.
And somehow Gavin believes him.
To love is to care. Even if you know androids do not feel cold. Even if you see how he charges string lights with his energy himself. Even the strongest enjoy waking up and seeing that somebody has covered them with a warm lap blanket.
RK800 wakes up and thinks about who it could be. Kamski? Gavin? Markus? Come to think of it, it’s great when in such cases a few variants come to mind. RK800 thinks he is happy to know he is loved.
I have found my vocation.
I am the very dog who hurts you in other ways.
A new commission. A picture for wonderful Malika, an illustration to her fanfiction. After watching “Beasts” it’s much merrier to draw a crossover of HP and Detroit %) Thanks to you I remembered all the years I had spent in Hogwarts and recalled fighting spells and spells of other types along with methods of casting them x) WhatrUdoing. And take the Dementors from Markus…
Anya, you spoil my taste.
Of course I missed HP fandom (which hasn’t seen me for some decades) but I never thought I’d be back like this x))
Have some Greece!
You know, Black Friday had its consequences leaving
me with a new Assassin. Who is not even an assassin anymore but a hero
of Greek mythology. Here they are, a hero not of our time, and a
humanization of his loyal Icarus. Or maybe not that loyal, nfi. Let’s
imagine that this mythological dude was turned into a bird and made
serve some third-raters to repay his Karmic debt. They are not wearing
anything because it’s hot, not because I’m lazy x)