#for the walkthrough i’m using (YES i am using a walkthrough. i usually don’t but this game is hard enough already & also so confusing)

[lesbianlenas]

lost 22000 souls again in dark souls today i fr wish if u died in the game u died for real living like this is too hard….

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - Home (Improvement)

day 30 @youngroyals-events one more to go i could cry

Simon owns a home renovation business with his sister. Wille has recently purchased a fixer-upper.

read below or on ao3 (T, 1.3k)

“You have to be nice,” Sara says as they drive down the unassuming backroad, lined with thick vegetation.

Simon scoffs, staring out the window and peeking between the gaps in the trees to get a glimpse of the types of homes around here. That one needs a new roof, but that one's got some good landscaping.  

“I am nice.”

“You’re nice in a special Simon way. Once someone has had time to get to know you.” Sara puts on the blinker, turning up a gravel street. “There’s a reason I usually bring Ayub with me— Get out and open the gate for me, please.”

Rolling his eyes, Simon climbs out of the car and swings open the simple metal gate, which could really use some oil on the hinges. The fence has a few nearly broken posts, too. If this is what the entrance looks like, he can only imagine the actual house. It must be further up the hill, but it’s way too overgrown for Simon to be able to see anything yet.

Usually, Ayub went with Sara on these consultations, because, allegedly, he's the better at talking to the clients. Apparently it didn’t matter that, technically, Simon was in charge of the construction half of his and Sara’s business. Not that it really bothered Simon. At the end of the day, he trusted Ayub to do the initial walkthrough and markup, allowing Simon to focus on getting everything ready to start the actual construction. Today, though, Ayub is busy, so Simon’s been tagged in.

“I’m just honest,” he says, once back in the car. “You are, too, Sara. That’s why people like you as a designer. Because you'll tell them if their shit is ugly.”

She pulls further up the drive and the house comes into view. That is, if it can even be called a house. Simon barely hears Sara’s response, his mind already flitting through the long, long to-do list that will be required to get this pile of wood back to living standards.

“Yes, but I do it in a nice way. This is Felice’s very good friend, okay? She said he’s great. Don’t make him go back to Felice with a bad review.”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” Simon waves her off, stepping out of the car to get a better look at the building. “This place looks like a piece of shit.”

“Hey, that’s my piece of shit you’re talking about.”

Simon turns at the sound of the new voice. In the front doorway of said piece of shit, there’s a tall, handsome man with auburn hair and a crooked smile. It’s quite the paradoxical image, this pretty, clean-cut man walking down the porch steps of such a dirty, overgrown house.

Sara steps up to greet him, apologizing for her brother's snark, while Simon hangs back, still assessing the integrity of the columns holding up the overhang roof. Most of the shingles are in place, at least, and he doesn’t see any sagging that would indicate leakage. Not yet, at least.

“Good to see you again, Wille,” Sara smiles, using that sweet customer-service voice of hers.

“You, too, Sara. Thank you for agreeing to take on this project. I know it’s a bit of a mess.”

“Well,” Simon cuts in without introduction, “she’ll only be able to do her part once we make sure this place won’t blow away in the first storm.”

Wille turns to him and smiles brightly, somehow rivaling even the midmorning sun that shines above them. “You must be Simon.” He extends a hand. “I’m Wille. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Simon takes his hand and shakes it once. They’re bigger than Simon’s, but less calloused. He probably works for some stupid finance company and sits in a fancy ergonomic chair all day, drinking filtered water and fucking off to business lunches with Sweden’s elite.

“Yep. I’ve heard almost nothing about you. Shall we take a look inside?”

If Wille’s surprised by Simon’s attitude, he doesn’t show it. He just nods, still smiling like the sun.  

Sara hisses at him as Wille leads them inside, telling him to cool it. Simon nods distractedly, but he really can’t be bothered to be nice because he’s already annoyed with this rich kid who’s probably bought this house to fix up and turn into a 20,000kr per night rental.

It’s not as bad inside, thankfully. The remaining yellowed wallpaper is peeling, and there's random trash scattered around, but there are no cracks in the walls or water stains on the ceiling. Wille leads them through, pointing out which rooms are which. The whole tour doesn’t last more than ten minutes as it’s only a two-bed, two-bath. The windows are half-boarded, and there are a few unnecessary walls, and Simon is already itching to get started. 

“I want to keep as much of the original structure as possible,” Wille explains when they stop again in the kitchen. He runs a hand over the dusty countertop, looking lovingly around the small, cramped space. “I might want to add an extension in the future, but it’s just me here, so this is definitely plenty of space for now.”

“You’re going to live here?” Simon asks, surprised.

Wille tilts his head at him. “Yes?”

Simon hums, crossing his arms and leaning back on the archway that leads into the living room. “Damn. I would’ve thought you’re more of a city high-rise type. You seem too posh for country living. You know, I don't think take-out drivers come out here. And the nearest Michelin restaurant isn’t for, like, 100 kilometers.”

“Simon!” Sara glares at him.

“It’s okay,” Wille chuckles. “No, I’m not the high rise type. I prefer the quiet of the countryside, and I also prefer to cook my own food. Michelin restaurants are way too overhyped, anyway.”

He’s smirking through his smile and has met Simon’s challenge, and so Simon decides he can let up a bit.

He and Wille spend the next two hours walking through the space again, more slowly this time, while Sara steps outside to make a few calls. She can’t do anything yet, anyway. Not with the house in this state. This part is Simon’s job, his specialty.

“Knocking down this wall will open up the space a lot, especially if you still want to be able to host while in the kitchen. It’ll give you a good view out of the front of the house, too,” Simon rambles, marching through the space and gesturing as he goes. Wille is hot on his heels, nodding along. “I’d put a countertop bar here, though, for some extra seating and to break up the space a bit. We’ll have to rip out all of these cabinets, though. I’ll need to get my plumber out here, too, to check the piping. These old builds are a little iffy sometimes on how well things have held up.”

Simon continues to talk, and endless stream of consciousness and notes about electrical wiring and comments about the state of the hardwood floor. Wille follows him all the way, making notes in a little notebook and asking the occasional question.

They finish just as Sara’s car pulls back up the driveway. Simon hadn’t even realized she’d left.

“I brought lunch,” she tells them, holding up a brown bag. “You two were pretty distracted, so I figured I shouldn’t bother.”

Wille thanks her graciously, and they all sit on the porch together to eat. Simon starts to make notes in his phone, setting reminders to call certain inspectors and logging how many people he’ll need for demo-day.

After lunch, they take a loop around the outside of the house, inspecting the gutters and stonework. Now that the initial tension has faded, he and Wille get distracted a few times by other topics. Simon learns that Wille is actually not an insufferable spoiled brat. In fact, he’s quite nice and quite funny. He keeps up with Simon’s jokes, and when Simon pushes him, he pushes right back.

Simon tells Wille he’ll have to check with his team, but he’s pretty sure most everyone is in between jobs and will be able to start in the next few days. Wille agrees to meet them at the house for the first day of demolition, and Simon and Sara leave for the day.

“You like him,” Sara says once Simon’s back in the car after closing the front gate behind them.

He shrugs, refusing to give her the satisfaction, and casually admits, “He doesn’t totally suck.”

Perhaps, Simon thinks, this renovation job won’t be too bad.

[devinschumacher]

Cloudflare Redirects: How to Setup 301 Redirects (URL Forwarding) Using CloudFlare’s DNS & Page Rules

Setting up a 301 redirect at CloudFlare isn’t that self-explanatory…

And since nobody likes reading documentation I figured that a true hero needed to step up and make this easy on the rest of the world.

So here I am, the hero of the internet, come to make your life easier once again – with an article, video & SOP for you to save and use later.

Let’s get after it.

Table of Contents

Cloudflare Redirects: How to Setup 301 Redirects (URL Forwarding) Using CloudFlare’s DNS & Page Rules

How to setup a CloudFlare 301 redirect using “page rules”:

Free Gifts

1. Add Domain to CloudFlare

2. Update NameServers

3. Update CloudFlare DNS

4. Setup Page Rules for URL Forwarding

How to setup a CloudFlare 301 redirect using “page rules”:

The process of setting up redirects using Cloudflare’s DNS is pretty simple. You add your domain, point the CloudFlare DNS records (A record & CNAME record) to Cloudflare’s server, and then setup a URL forwarding rule. That’s pretty much it.

The first two steps of this walkthrough have nothing to do with the actual CloudFlare 301 setup. They are the things you need to do before any of this works. So, if you’ve already added your domain to your CF account and pointed your domain registrar’s nameservers to it – you can skip them and start at Step 3.

1. Add Domain to CloudFlare

At the dashboard (dash.cloudflare.com) of your CloudFlare account click the “Add a site” button, and enter your domain on the next screen.

Once you do that, you’ll be presented with pricing options. Just choose the free one (bottom of screen) and move on.

Cloudflare will scan for existing DNS records and bring them over.

Keep them or delete them – the choice is yours (and depends on what you’re trying to do).

Click continue, and you’ll get your account’s nameservers.

You’ll need to update your current domain’s nameservers, which you can find at the domain registrar – aka the place where you login to see your domain, and probably where you purchased it.

2. Update NameServers

I can’t make a tutorial for updating nameservers at every web hosting company, because there’s like a trillion of them.

But you’ll just need to go to your account > select your domain > choose ‘edit nameservers’ or something similar > paste in the nameservers that Cloudflare gave you in the last step.

Now, it will take anywhere from 10 minutes to 48 hours for those changes to take effect. This is called propagation.

But you don’t have to wait for that to continue. You will have to wait for it for all the things you do next to work, however.

3. Update CloudFlare DNS

This is where the actual process starts.

Go to your domain settings in CloudFlare and choose “DNS”.

If redirecting the whole domain I usually start with deleting the current DNS records that CloudFlare ported over. Don’t do that if you have records in there you need.

Yes, captain obvious I know but… Common sense isn’t always so common in these extremely tense IT settings…

Next, we’re going to add in the CloudFlare DNS records you need for your URL Forwarding to work.

Click ‘Add record’ and add the following information, and click the ‘Save’ button:

Type: A

Name: @

IPv4 Address: 192.0.2.1

Now, click the ‘Add record’ button again, add the following information, and click the ‘Save’ button:

Type: CNAME

Name: www

Target: @

4. Setup Page Rules for URL Forwarding

Navigate to the “Rules” area on the sidebar, then click “Page Rules” and click the ‘Create Page Rule` button.

Now it’s time to set your 301s!

I’m going to setup a 301 redirect to forward all traffic coming to ‘domain A’ to ‘domain B’, but you can easily just change the URL & destination to fit your needs.

Follow these steps:

Enter the URL pattern you want 301ing

Click the dropdown and choose ‘URL Forwarding’

Select your ‘Status Code’ from the drop down (probably 301)

Enter the destination

Click ‘Save and Deploy Page Rule’

I entered the root domain, and put an asterisk ( * ) at the end, which means that if anyone goes to an inner url, like “domain.com/whatever-asdfadf” it will also get redirected.

You can setup inner URL specific 301s too.

Now, I’m simply going to do the exact same thing again – but this time add the www. version.

Same steps from above:

Enter the URL pattern you want 301ing

Click the dropdown and choose ‘URL Forwarding’

Select your ‘Status Code’ from the drop down (probably 301)

Enter the destination

Click ‘Save and Deploy Page Rule’

That’s it! You’re done!

You should be able to go to your forwarded domain, and be taken to the destination.

If it doesn’t work, make sure:

You’ve given enough time for your nameservers to propagate (see step #2)

You clear the CloudFlare cache (if you transferred your domain from another Cloudflare account)

You clear your browser cache, or try in ‘incognito mode’ (press shift + command + n on most browsers (MAC) to open an incognito window)

Free Gifts

Get the free How to setup a Cloudflare 301 Redirect checklist, and run it anytime you need to repeat this process.

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

Synopsis: While a fight breaks out Zemo asks you to run away from him, you accept leaving on an eventful journey with him

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Author’s note: A final 3rd installment for ‘A Freudian Slip’ I hope you all have enjoyed this brief series! Next to come out is a sequel to ‘Perfectly Exasperating’

Bucky carried Zemo back into the house bridal style, his hands gripping tightly around Zemo’s legs and chest, and dropped him onto the sofa in the midst of the room. Zemo was knocked out from when John Walker had the brilliant idea to stop Zemo from smashing all the super-soldier serum by chucking his shield at him. You could see a nasty bruise forming on the top of his head where he was struck.

You gently run your fingers over the side of his face. At this moment he looked so peaceful sleeping, his lips pulled up into a natural slight smile, parts of his hair dangled down across his forehead, his face softened and not tensed like it usually appeared to be. You brush the hair back into its usual place, running your fingers over his feverish forehead.

You turn to Bucky and Sam, whose eyes burn into yours, millions of questions flashing through them, yet they remain unspoken. “I’ll look after him,” you tell them, turning your gaze back to Zemo's peaceful form. It was easier to stare at him than them at the moment.

“You and Zemo have been spending a lot of time together,” Sam states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’ve been making sure he doesn’t betray us,” You snap back, refusing to look at them

“Sam and I have been doing that as well and you haven’t seen us giving him bedroom eyes,” Bucky argues back, stepping forward, but Sam grabs a hold of his arm to stop him from going further.

“Look y/n, we’re just concerned about you. That guy a criminal, he could easily manipulate you,”

Your eyes flash to him angrily, “You think I would be easy to manipulate,”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Sam says but Bucky interrupts him

“Yes. I know him, y/n, that is exactly something he would do. You can’t trust him,”

“I’ve told you already, I’m just making sure he doesn’t betray us. There’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you believed me,”

They sigh in defeat, glancing at each other, then back to you. “Look, I will not argue with you. Go get him the things he requires. Bucky and I need to check to see if we can find Karli. I might get a chance to talk to her again” Sam says and he and Bucky turn their backs, sending one last concerning look at you over their shoulders then disappearing.

You sigh looking back to Zemo who still slept peacefully unaware. A smile tugged on your mouth, but it twisted to a frown. You all knew damn well you had been lying. Whether you wanted to admit it, you liked Zemo. Every time you saw him, the urge to kiss his lips pulled you in. You could still feel his embrace, his kisses on your neck, shoulders, collar. The sensation of him inside you, touching you. You craved it more and more like he was your addiction.

You don’t know how you hadn’t gotten to this point of being so obsessed with him, where it had kicked in. You always found him attractive, from when you first laid your eyes on him as he broke out of the prison, you felt that attraction pull to him. You never expected it would be anything more though till that one embarrassing moment when you called him daddy in the undercover mission. You could still feel your cheeks burn up in embarrassment as you remembered that night, but you could also feel your body warm up as you thought about what happened in the alleyway. How he kissed you so passionately. So earnestly.

You had tried to deny your feelings, pretend it wasn’t there, and that kiss that never happened, but Zemo would not let you avoid him. Your eyes flickered to the bathroom and your breath hitches as you remember the intimacy you two spent together there. It was there you felt you truly saw Zemo for the person he was. A man who was lonely and broken from his past. A man who cared for you no matter what Sam or Bucky says.

You felt so scared when you saw the shield hit Zemo. Panic gripped your heart as you rushed over to him. John peered down at you like you were dirt as you cradled Zemo’s head in your lap. Sam and Bucky had run up to you and were surprised you were on your knees holding his head in your hands.

As you were observing him, Zemo's eyes cracked open, and he moaned in discomfort, bringing his hand to rub his eyes. Leaping up, you shouted at him to stay still as you fetched a flannel, running it under cold water, and brought it back to him.

He smiled as you handed him the flannel, the sides of his lips curling up like a cat. “Thank you” he mumbles.

“I’ll get you a drink,”

“You’re being very kind to me y/n,”

“Don’t get used to it,”

He snickered at your sudden switch to hostility, “Will we constantly be bouncing between kindness and hatred?”

You exhale, sitting down beside him, handing a glass of whiskey to him. “I don’t hate you, Zemo, though I really should. There’s something about you I just love and I can’t let go.”

You hesitate, both of you pondering over your sudden confession. Zemo raises the flannels of his eyes and looks over at you. His eyes, which are full of wonder, scan yours. You wanted to look away, embarrassed, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to keep running away from how you felt.

“You terrified me earlier. I thought John Walker had killed you.”

His eyes switched to concern as his eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry I frightened you y/n. I- I never thought I would ever get over my wife and... I still love her but you enthrall me, you drive me wild because I want to know everything about you, feel all of you, touch all of you. It’s been so long since I felt this way and it frightens me.”

You reach out your hand to grasp his and he runs his thumb over your knuckles,

“Zemo I-”

The door opens and both yours and Zemo’s head snaps towards it as Sam and Bucky walkthrough. As quick as lightning, you let go of Zemo’s hand and strode away to the opposite side of the room. Zemo’s eyes sadly glance at you, then to his hand, and he lets out a sigh. He takes a sip of his drink, then pulls the flannel back over, his eyes settling down on the sofa.

Bucky rolls his views and wanders off while Sam grabs a seat at the table to work on his laptop. The silence was suffocating. At least for you. Sam seemed to try hard to concentrate on the laptop, but Zemo relaxed, sipping his drink and you pulled out your phone, playing a silly game to waste away the time.

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo finally asks Sam. Sam’s gaze leaves the laptop looking at you, then over to Zemo.

“What?”

“The serum,”

“No,”

You glance between them, not knowing if you should leave or not. Sam didn’t seem to want to be engaged in a conversation, but Zemo wasn’t taking the hint.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Without a second hesitation, Sam replies, a harsh tone to his voice, “No”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive,” Zemo says, nodding in approval.

He raises his hand, taking off the flannel with a slight grunt, “Sam,” he says as he holds the flannel in his hand, his gaze unwavering from it.

“You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her. She’s gone. And we cannot allow her and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods among real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

You look down to the ground, frowning at Zemo’s words, but Sam answers without hesitation, “Isn’t that how god's talk?"

Zemo’s eyes continue to glare down at the flannel, for once not speaking up.

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“Blood isn’t always the solution” Sam finishes as you hear a door click in the background. As Bucky walks in, you get up and walk over to Zemo again, who sits up to let you sit beside him. He gently places his hand on your knee, your eyes flickering to each other, hiding the action enough so the others don’t see. Though you both say nothing because of the present company, it’s as if you could read each other's thoughts. You were both conflicted on what path to follow and because of that, you found solace in each other.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky mutters, shrugging off his jacket.

“Like we hadn’t known that from the start,” you mumble

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy,”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam agrees

The two argue about the shield once again and you were preparing to stop them when the doors once again burst open and John Walker and his partner storm in. All your heads turn towards the disruption and you groan in frustration at seeing him.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to hand him over,”

Both Sam walks out in front of John to stop him from getting nearer Zemo. You stood up to go stand by him as well, but Zemo grasps your hand as he gets up, shaking his head. Your eyebrows turn down confused, but he doesn’t offer you an explanation.

With his other hand, he hands the bottle of whiskey over to you, then picks up his glass, dragging you over to the kitchen counter. You weren’t paying attention to what Sam and John were saying till a spear flew past them, imbedding in one pillar.

Your eyes widened as you saw Dora Milaje storm in.

One of them speaks in Wakandan to Bucky, obviously pissed. “Release him to us now” she orders in English. Zemo’s eyes glance anxiously from yours to them, his mind swarming with thoughts of how to get out.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.” John says walking over to them. They refuse to say anything to him, so he looks awkwardly away.

“Well, let’s uh put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?” he says, patronising them. You wanted to facepalm because of his stupidity.

“Hey, John. Take this easy. You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje,” Sam warns

John Walker however doesn’t listen. He proceeds to antagonise them till he finally places a hand on her shoulder and all hell breaks loose.

Both you and Zemo stand at the side watching John Walker fight them. Zemo sips his whiskey and offers you a sip. You smile slightly at his nonchalant attitude about the fight, letting him raise the glass to your lips as you drink.

Both Sam and Bucky eventually join in the fight as well, and once again you move to join them, but Zemo’s grip on your hand tightens. “Not now little one” he mutters

He peers around, watching the fight as you stare questionably at him, “Zemo what the hell is up with you today. Did that hit to the head get rid of your common sense” you whisper angrily trying to tug your hand out of his. Zemo rolls his eyes at you, clasping your hand.

“We need to go” he whispers urgently and tries to tug you towards the bathroom.

“What? Zemo, Zemo wait. What do you mean we?” You ask, grounding your feet into the floor.

He looks around at the fighting, his skin becoming whiter as he gets more worried. “We don’t have a lot of time y/n, please. I need you to come with me,”

You didn’t know where he wanted to go, or how he was planning on leaving, but you could see fear prickling in his eyes as he looked at you.

“What about Sam and Bucky?”

“They will be okay. Please y/n, I want to spend this time with you. I don’t want to do this alone,”

You stare into his eyes once more, then nod, finally making your choice.

You let him lead you back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. He quickly pushes the bath aside, revealing a passageway into the sewer.

“Ugh,” you say to yourself as you look down the hole. “Ladies first,” Zemo says, placing his hand on your back, the side of his lip curling up into a smile as he guides you over to the hole.

You shoot him a glare before grasping onto the ladder and clambering down as fast as you could, trying your best not to slip.

After a minute you reached the bottom of the ladder and Zemo arrived quickly after. It was so dark down there, but thankfully Zemo had a flashlight in his coat. Once again grabbing a hold of your hand, he guides you down a pathway.

“So this was the best escape plan you had?” you ask, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant smell

“I’m sorry y/n, did you have a better plan?” he replies sarcastically

“Well, I didn’t know I was running away with you until a minute before,”

Zemo pauses, beaming the light on your face, making you cringe. He lowers it slightly. So it wasn’t in your eyes but still illuminated your face.

“I owe you a thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn’t a simple decision to leave your friends for a person you meet just a few days ago,”

“When you put it like that, you make me feel even crazier for making this decision,” you grumble

“But it’s okay Zemo, Sam and Bucky will be fine without me, and I wanted to be with you,”

Zemo raises his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. Quickly he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His spare hand holding the flashlight wraps around your waist as he holds you there, moving his lips on yours, which you reciprocate.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended. He pulled away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours. “Thank you, little one”

His nickname for you sends shivers along your spine and you let out a husky breath. He smirks at you, turning around, and continues to walk down the pathway.

Eventually, you reach another ladder that you can climb up. You blink a lot as you emerge into the sunlight, finding yourself on a random road.

“What now?” you ask

Zemo walks over to a car, jumping into the driver's seat, and pats the passenger seat next to him. As you get in beside him he easily hot wires the car and gets the engine started.

“So have lots of experience stealing cars?” you ask Zemo and he chuckles, “When you become a criminal you pick up a lot of new skills,”

“I suppose aiding with the escape of a criminal now makes me one as well. You bring about a lot of surprises,”

“I’ve been told I am quite surprising,” he glances at you, smirking as he drives, “And seductive,”

You slap the side of his arm lightly, “Eyes on the road, mister”

“Mister? I think I prefer what you called me before. Hm, what was that again?”

You groan as Zemo brings up that embarrassing night for you, “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You calling me daddy? Of course not. I quite like it,”

“Where are we even going?” you ask trying to direct the conversation somewhere else

Zemo turns from looking at you to the road, the smile on his face slowly fading.

“Sokovia,”

Your breath hitches as he says the name of his country, bringing back the reminders of his previous family.

“I want to see the memorial,”

You nod quietly, not sure what you could say.

For the next ten minutes, you two sit in uncomfortable silence. All previous moments where you were having fun had faded. Eventually, Zemo sighed in frustration and made a sharp turn in the car, pulling into a secluded spot on an empty road.

He turns off the car and turns to face you. “It seems to me we need to talk,”

You look to him then away, “I don’t think so”

“Y/n” he growls

“I said we don’t need to talk!” you shout, glaring at him, but you snap your lips shut as you realised how much anger had suddenly built up in you.

Recognition flashes in Zemo’s eyes as he stares at you, “This is about my family, isn’t it?”

You look away, your cheeks burning as you knew how ridiculous you were being.

Zemo nods his head, looking at the road ahead as he thought over what to say.

“You are part of the reason I want to go to the memorial,” he finally admits

It was your turn to look at him, puzzled. He pushes his lips together as he prepares for what he wants to say next.

“I love my family. Every day, I miss them. But I also really like you y/n. You are someone I want to spend all my time and money on just to make you happy. Every time I look at you, I want to take you, no matter where we are. And I feel I owe it to my family to visit the memorial to pay respect and to accept that it is okay for me to move on,”

It felt like with his words he had lifted an enormous weight off of your shoulders. Tears sprung to your eyes and Zemo looked panicked noticing them but you grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Zemo,”

His fingers run along your arms and up to your face, tracing your jawline. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and slowly move forward towards you. Once again he captures your lips with his but this time it was gentle like he was trying to savior you. You grasp the fur parts of his coat and try to pull him closer, you can feel through your kiss him smirking.

“Would you prefer to take this to the back seat?” he rasps and you nod your head quickly. You pull away from the kiss, shifting in your seat so you can clamber onto the long seat at the back of the car. Zemo holds onto your waist as he follows you through the back. He sits down on the seat and pulls you onto him so you were straddling his waist. His hands grip tighter to your hips as you go back to making out with him while you ground on his lap, feeling wetness stain your pants.

You smirked into the kiss as you felt Zemo’s trousers stiffen and a bulge appear as you grinded on him.

“Let go of me Zemo,” you sigh as you pull away from the kiss, hesitantly Zemo lets go of your waist curious to see what you were planning. It was hard positioning yourself with the limited space you two had in the car, but you sat on your knees, pushing his legs apart as you settled between them. You reach up and tug down the zip on his trousers, exposing his boxers. Zemo sits back and watches you as you tug them down, exposing his member.

Already some pre-cum had leaked from it, which you gladly licked up, running your tongue along its side. You traced the vein that stuck out, feeling it pulse against your tongue. Teasing him, you flick your tongue over the tip, hovering your lips just around it but not going further.

Zemo finally moves, impatiently he grasps your hair in his hand and pushes you down onto his member, making you take all of him. He lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he rolls his head back as he felt the heat of your tongue on his member. You suck your cheeks in to give him more pleasure as he pumps your head up and down so that his member could go in as far as it could.

You grasp his tights to position yourself better. You could feel aching between your legs as you longed for more, but at the moment all you wanted to do was please him. Zemo pushed your head faster, grunting, feeling pleasure swarm over him. He then suddenly pulled you off his member, grabbing your arms he lifted you, getting off the seat and pushing you on so you were lying down on your back.

“Forgive me little one” he purrs as his hands roughly grasp at your trousers and quickly pushes them down, exposing your pants. “I need to feel inside you” He runs his finger up them chuckling feeling the wetness soaking through.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, looking in your eyes, “We don’t need one” you gasp, the urge to feel him swarming you.

“As you wish,” he says, immediately pushing your pants aside and slipping into you.

You moan feeling him stretch you out but as soon as he was in you he drew back almost completely out of you but snapped his hips back into you. He thrusts with all the strength he has, pushing your body up and down on the seat.

You wrap your hands around his back, your nails digging into his back as your body moves up and down with him. His head settles on your shoulder, where he leaves hickies. Every time he pulls back from kissing and biting you he would whisper things in Sokovian that you couldn’t understand but you were sure were endearing.

His fingers snaked down to find your clit and rubbed it, sending shock waves of pleasure to your brain. You let out a loud moan as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. As if knowing you were close, Zemo's hips thrust deeper into you, hitting the right spot to make you let loose, your walls clamping down on him as you came. He groans into your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him. His thrusts grew more erratic till you could feel him twitch in you and his seed spill into you.

He pants heavily, finally looking you in the eyes. “I love you little one,” he whispers

You smile, placing a kiss on the side of his face, “I love you too... daddy”

He chuckles and finally gets off you.

The car drive after that was comfortable. Zemo liked to drive with one hand on the wheel while the one hand resting on your thigh, as if reminding you, you belonged to him and only him. Hours later, you finally arrived at the memorial.

Holding your hand, Zemo walks up to the sculpture. He speaks to himself in Sokovian first, getting whatever he needs to say off his chest. After that he turns to you, his eyes capturing yours as they were glazed with tears, “The loss of my country, of my family, broke me y/n, but in some twisted way I am not as upset as I was about it before because it led me to you. I don’t blame you for any of it, I know you had nothing to do with the Sokovian attack just like Sam and James. I’m so glad I could spend these last moments with you.”

You look at him confused, “These last moments?”

You suddenly hear footsteps approaching and you quickly spin around, seeing Bucky appearing behind you. Your head snaps back to Zemo. “Zemo what the hell is going on!?”

He smiles sadly at the floor, then back at you, grabbing your hands. “I’m afraid I must ask something hard of you y/n. Please, can you leave”

The breath left your lungs; it felt as if your entire chest dropped hearing his words.

“... What,”

“I don’t want you to witness what must happen next,”

Your gaze flickers from Bucky who was standing back letting you two have your moment to Zemo who looked desperately at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zemo,” you state

“Y/n…”

“NO!” you shout

“Y/n I-” Bucky says walking forward, but one death glare from you quickly shuts him up.

“How could you ever ask something of me like that, especially after... after everything that has happened,”

“I should have told you y/n, I’m sorry, but I needed to spend these last moments with you because you are so special to me, I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling you what was to come,” tears gush from your eyes as you shake your head at him, He steps closer to you, holding your head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“And because I love you, I don’t want you to see this. You know there is no other way out of this. It has to happen, and it’s okay, I’m ready. Just like I could with my wife, I know you’ll be able to move on and find someone who will give you everything I can’t and never will because you deserve so much better than me,”

“I love you,” you whisper, the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes examine every detail of his face, trying to ingrain everything in your mind.

“I love you little one,”

He pulls you into one last kiss, gentle, but the romantic moment drowned in sadness.

You pull away. Turn around. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do you won’t be able to leave. You glare at Bucky though you know as well as Zemo it isn’t his fault. You walk a slight distance, just enough so that they are out of sight, and then you collapse on the floor.

Your hands into the ground, pulling at the dirt as you let all your pain out, trying to hold in your sobs. How is it you had fallen for that man so quickly? You loved him; you had risked giving him your heart, and he was pulled so quickly from you. You felt betrayed; he didn’t tell you what he was planning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it either.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, but you opened your eyes when you felt a shadow fall over you. Looking up, you saw one member of the Dora Milaje looking down at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you gasp, connecting the dots. “Zemo'' you whisper, jumping off the ground and running back to where you last saw him. Sure enough, as you arrived you saw him being escorted to the Dora Milaje aircraft.

Hearing your footsteps, Zemo glances over at you. Sadness flickers in his eyes as he stops walking to look at you, but they grasp his shoulder, forcing him to look forward and to keep moving. You watch as they escort him away, till you couldn’t see him anymore.

Bucky walks over to you, looking at the floor guiltily.

“I’ll see him again,” you tell Bucky

“y/n I don’t think-”

“I’ll see him again, Bucky. You can count on that”

Taglist: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @aloyssia @hannahbal-the-fannibal

(I can't tag some of you, I'll keep trying but maybe check your invisibility)

[alj4890]

All Through The Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU fanfiction. 

A/N Other than my few Bloodbound shorts, I’ve never written anything with supernatural overtones before. After receiving requests to see Liam and Riley’s story if he was a vampire, this storyline was born. Since it is set in one of my favorite books from Pixelberry, I had to include as many of the main and supporting characters as I could. The following chapters will explain more where they and what our main characters are. Not going to lie, I am very anxious to step out of my comfort zone for this, but I’m also super excited to see how it goes. Along with The Royal Romance, I will be referencing and altering both The Crown and The Flame and The Royal Masquerade.

@gkittylove99​​ @krsnlove​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @yourmajesty09​ @mom2000aggie​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @twinkleallnight​ @lodberg​ @twinkleallnight​ @amandablink​ @neotericthemis​  @mm2305​ @sfb123​ @iufilms​​ ​ ​

Masterlist

Prologue

Once upon a time...

"Father!" Zenobia rushed down the stairwell. "Kenna is at the gates!"

King Luthor's frown deepened as he studied the places his troops had been destroyed. His hope to unite the five kingdoms and wipe off the abomination was for naught.

Kenna would not stop until he and his surviving offspring's heads were on pikes.

...until their blood filled the crystal goblets of the Dark Queen.

"What do we do?" His son, Diavolos, asked.

Luthor knew it was only himself Kenna wanted. After he had killed her mother, hoping to stop the monsters once and for all, Kenna would have her revenge.

If only he had known that she was a vampire...just like her mother.

"Listen carefully." His voice trembled at this possibly being the last time he was able to speak to his son and daughter. "A Nevarkis must always be ready to fight the creatures that prey on the weak and vulnerable."

"But..." Zenobia sniffed. "How? How can we possibly kill the unkillable?"

"She can be killed just like her mother before her." Luthor snapped. "Sunlight. A dagger to the heart. Cutting the head off." His features hardened with resolve. "Know that those are our true allies. Continue your training with daggers. Never stop being vigilant. Educate your children. And remember: where there's one vampire, many more lie in wait in the shadows."

Diavolos stepped forward and gripped his father's shoulder. "We will fight for you."

"No." Luthor corrected. "Fight for our people. The innocent. Fight for a chance to live without fear of monsters."

He cleared his throat. "If I should die--"

"Don't say that!" Zenobia screeched. "We'll be--"

"Kenna is coming for me." Luthor interrupted. "I know I must face the consequences of my actions."

"But--" Divalos lowered his head. "What are we to do?"

"Kill her." Luthor ordered. "Let your emotion be your strength." He took their hands. "And remember that a vampire is nature's evil incarnate. They will do whatever they want and kill anyone who they think is in their way." His voice turned to pleading. "Kill Kenna before she has a chance to kill you."

Zenobia nodded in a jerky manner. Diavolos swallowed with tears in his eyes.

"Good. Now prepare yourselves." Luthor pulled his sword from its sheath. "The devil herself is here."

*****************

Two years later...

Kenna cuddled her infant son, humming a lullaby.

Dom came in, a soft smile gracing his lips at the sight of his family.

"How are we this evening?" He asked, placing a kiss first on her lips then one on his son's forehead.

"A little fussy." Kenna explained. "But otherwise perfect."

"Good." Dom stretched then went to stoke the fire. "I will be going out later tonight."

Kenna's head jerked up. "Why? Are there more rumors?"

He nodded, a determined frown formed on his lips. "The Nevarkis brats refuse to let us live in peace." He moved to stand before the window that looked out toward the kingdom he had once lived in.

High in the mountains, the couple and those like them had found sanctuary. They built a kingdom, one of darkness and shadow that allowed them to live freely. He and Kenna were crowned the rulers, chosen by their people...those that were cursed as monsters.

"Si and I will be standing guard." He explained. "I will not risk you or our child."

"Dom..." Kenna pulled him close, capturing his lips in a long tender kiss. "This must end. I was foolish to let my need for revenge take over." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "Luthor might have left us alone if I had given him a chance."

Dom's face contorted into furious hatred. "A Nevarkis can never be trusted!" He gripped her waist, hands heating as he lost his temper. "He would have plunged a dagger into your heart the first chance he had."

"Dom." She said softly when he singed her clothes.

He wrenched his hands from her with a grimace. "I didn't burn you, did I?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She tried to lighten the mood. "Just a little overheated."

He took deep breaths to get himself under control. "Stay here where it is safe." His eyes searched hers. "Have you fed recently?"

"No, but I should be fine until you return." Kenna lifted a bottle with blood for their son. "I can call on one of the servants to help me if I need to."

"Promise me you won't go outside." He pleaded.

"Only if you promise to come back to me." She responded.

His lips quirked in that cocky smile she has always adored.

"Always, my queen." He kissed her once more, then slipped out the door to search out their enemies.

******************

Present Day New York...

"Cordonia...land of both beauty and mystery." Riley wrinkled her nose. "Boring."

"No, it isn't." Hana argued. "I think that is the perfect beginning."

"Look at the comments from our last video." Riley swiveled her laptop so her friend could see. "People love our walkthroughs and all but hate my narration."

"Well..." Hana's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should try to add more to it than just narration." She pulled out some sketches. "We could add some animation of the history before showing our footage of the country."

"That might work." Riley mumbled, tapping her pen against her notebook.

The two set to work planning their next project.

After years of trying, they had finally achieved their dream of traveling for a living. The two college friends had taken every class they could on how to make their hopes into a reality. With Riley's love of history and business and Hana's talent with art and fashion, the pair had created a successful travel channel that showcased rarely visited countries and cities around the world.

Hana took care of all the shopping and dining found at their chosen destinations. Her "day trips" were hailed as must see for anyone planning a vacation. Riley took over for what could be found at night. Myths and legends blended in with what could be discovered once the sun set. A place's nightlife was thoroughly researched and reached a wide variety of their audience, causing many to plan a vacation just on her recommendations alone.

"Did your mom suggest where we should go first?" Riley asked, after skimming the same few articles about the elusive country.

"Not really." Hana hedged.

Riley glanced up. "Is she giving you a hard time again?"

"Yes." Hana slumped in her chair. "She told me to call when I was done playing tour guide."

"Geez." Riley grumbled. "Does she not realize that we have created a legit business?"

"Ladies shouldn't be involved in anything that does not pertain to their husband and family." Hana quoted. "I was supposed to have my debut to Cordonian society last year." Angry tears filled her eyes. "She still hasn't forgiven me for missing out on the Masquerade Ball."

Riley wrapped her in a comforting hug. "I'm sorry."

Hana patted her back. "Don't be. I finally feel like I can accomplish anything."

"That's because you can." Riley sat back with a grin. "Especially with planning out what we should focus on first."

Hana giggled as she went to search out some of her old books she had inherited from her grandparents. "These might help you with your part."

Riley's eyebrows lifted over the titles. "The Crown, the Flame, and The Night Queen."

"That is the earliest recorded story of vampires and monsters in Cordonia." Hana explained. "Queen Kenna Rhys and King Luthor Nevarkis both fought over uniting the kingdoms that make up Cordonia." She shook her head in disbelief. "There is a legend that Queen Kenna was a vampire that married a man who could transform into a dragon."

"For real?" Riley eagerly opened the book. "What happened?"

"Luthor died." Hana reached for another history book. "Some say it was a sword fight while others say she ripped his throat out with her fangs."

"Whoa. Either way, she sounds pretty epic."

"His son got revenge though." Hana flipped to another chapter. "He sneaked in one day and supposedly dragged Kenna into the sunlight. Before her husband could save her, she burned to ash."

"Brutal." Riley shivered. "What did the dragon do?"

Hana shrugged. "Supposedly he left with their child to protect him." She pointed at some drawings rendered from the Dark Ages. "Kenna's son came back to extract revenge. He eliminated one entire side of the Nevarkis family tree."

"And let me guess," Riley picked up another book. "The remaining Nevarkis's struck back?"

"It's supposedly been a feud for centuries between the Nevarkis and the Rhys' families." Hana pulled up an image on her phone. "Though one is currently ruling Cordonia."

Riley studied the image. "Queen Olivia Nevarkis. Looks like the Rhys lost the throne."

Hana shrugged. "There's a myth that they still rule Cordonia from the shadows."

"Mythical royal vampires, huh?" Riley laughed at the thought. "I hope I bump into one just so I can figure out who's really in charge."

Hana giggled at the thought. "You would be the only person to ask a logical, government question instead of the usual, whoa you're a real live vampire!"

Riley threw a pillow at her. "Hey! I can be calm and collected when faced with the unknown."

Hana threw the pillow back. "Tell that to the supposed haunted house we visited on our last trip." She broke out into laughter with Riley's defense that squeaking doors were the true villains. "On that note, I'm going to start packing. Our flight leaves first thing in the morning."

"I'll be ready." Riley promised.

Once alone, she flipped to a more current timeline of the supposed Dark Kingdom.

King Constantine Rhys the Third rules over what is his rightful kingdom. Rumors swirl that he is simply biding his time until he can eliminate the usurper, Queen Olivia Nevarkis, First of Her Name. The people know that one day, a Rhys will sit upon the throne, uniting the Dark Kingdom and Cordonia once and for all.

****************

Cordonia's Royal Palace, 2 a.m.

"Heeeerah! Olivia threw her daggers as hard as she could while doing a roundhouse kick.

The blades struck into the chest, head, and groin of the makeshift dummy.

She brushed the few strands of red hair that had escaped her hair clip out of her eyes. With a great deal of scrutiny, she studied her dagger placement.

"The one to the head needs to go deeper."

She spun around with a start at that all too familiar voice.

"You're late." She folded her arms and tapped her foot.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Had to stop off for a quick bite."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That's not funny."

"Not that kind of bite." He teased, holding up a styrofoam box.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise. "I forget that you enjoy normal food too."

He chuckled at that. "There are certain foods that I don't think any man could ever give up."

Olivia decided to ignore that as she wiped the sweat from her face and neck. "Now that you're here, let's get the formalities over with."

"Very well." Liam gestured toward her. "You may go first."

She sat down on a bench lining one side of the palace gym. She motioned for him to join her.

"Not you!" She hissed when she saw his all too familiar guard.

Drake Walker bristled at her tone. His brown eyes clashed with her green.

"Give us a moment, please." Liam asked him.

"Don't let your guard down." Drake warned. "Remember, she's a Nevarkis."

Olivia tensed. "Perhaps you should remember what happened the last time you said something like that."

She quirked one eyebrow at the man and felt a sense of glee when he winced in memory.

His hand automatically drifted to his side where one of her daggers had once struck true.

With a quick bow to Liam, Drake stepped back out into the hallway.

Liam shook his head. "Are you two ever going to get along?"

"Stop talking stupid." Olivia snapped. "Now then, as you know...I must have my revenge."

"I know." Liam folded his arms and leaned casually against a column.

She eyed him for any sign of hatred.

It drove her crazy how unvampiric he could be.

He seemed almost human.

He seemed...kind.

A vampire is nature's evil incarnate. You can never trust a Rhys.

Those words had been drummed into her skull by her parents and then her aunt after their deaths by Constantine's hand.

And yet...Liam had done the unthinkable.

He had actually been a friend to Olivia.

*************

The night after her parents' funeral, five year old Olivia had been sitting alone before the fireplace, weeping over them.

Her aunt had left her to deal with her own grief and to plan the next attack upon Constantine.

As she searched for a tissue, Olivia jumped back with a shriek at the little blonde haired boy that held the Kleenex box.

His eyes were filled with unshed tears as he handed her a tissue.

"Who are you?" She asked, remembering that a Nevarkis must always be brave.

"I'm Liam." He explained. "I wanted to...I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about your parents." He sniffed and took a tissue for himself. "My mom died too."

Olivia blinked and took a cautious step forward. "Are you...are you a vampire?!"

He nodded.

She whipped out the dagger her mother had given her and rushed at him.

Liam moved faster than she could comprehend, gently keeping her hand above her head.

"Let go of me, monster!" She ordered. "You're why I'm all alone!"

"I didn't do anything." He told her, anguish taking over his handsome features. "I don't want to hurt you or anyone."

"Liar!" She snapped. "That's what you do. Lie and kill." Her tears ran faster down her cheeks. "And now you'll kill me."

"I won't." He promised. "I swear I won't hurt you." He ignored his own tears trickling down his cheeks. His blue eyes burned with resolve. "My mother made me promise never to hurt a human."

Olivia shook her head. It had to be lies. Isn't that what vampires and monsters do? Lull you into letting your guard down so that they could have an easy kill.

"Your father will pay for what he did." She said, hoping to see his true, evil nature. "He must die!"

"I know." Liam slowly released her and took a step back.

Olivia watched in surprise as he sat down before her fireplace and pulled out a silk blue ribbon from his pocket.

He motioned for her to join him.

She slowly lowered herself down, dagger poised in her little fist in case he made a move.

"May I have your hand, please?" He asked.

He patiently waited on her to decide whether or not to give it to him.

She tentatively placed her hand in his.

His lips turned up into a relieved smile as he wrapped the ribbon over their joined hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked, lowering her dagger.

"Making a bond." He explained. "I, Liam Rhys, Crown Prince of the Dark Kingdom, promise to never seek out revenge and to end all vendettas against the Nevarkis family." His blue eyes held her green. "Just as my mother, Queen Eleanor wanted me to."

Oliva's lips parted. "You mean it?"

"I do." Liam's voice held a great deal of sincerity. "I would rather walk into the sun than not do as she asked."

"Oh." Olivia sniffed. She could understand that kind of devotion.

"Do you," Liam's cheeks colored. "Do you think we can be allies?"

"A Nevarkis will never be friends with a monster." She repeated the rhetoric that she knew by heart.

"But," Liam's shoulders slumped. "We're not all bad."

"All monsters are bad at heart."

"I'm not." He pouted. "I don't want to be."

"You're so weird." She muttered.

"Am not." Liam grumbled. "I hope I'm not."

Olivia looked down at their hands still bound together. "I guess since you promised something, I should too."

He didn't bother to hide his surprise.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I, Olivia Nevarkis, The Crown Princess of Cordonia, swear that after I kill Constantine Rhys, I will lay down my weapons." Her brow furrowed. "I'll pick them back up though if you or any other monster tries anything."

Liam's smile grew. Before she could react, he tugged her into a quick hug.

"Now we can be friends!" He cheered.

"Friends?" She shook her head. "I'm a Nevarkis and you're a Rhys. We can't be friends."

"We will be." He vowed, jumping to his feet. "I have to go before Father finds out I've sneaked out. I'll try to come back in a few nights."

Olivia didn't have a chance to tell him whether or not she wanted him to. In the blink of an eye, he had jumped from her balcony and was already out the palace gates.

*****************

That had been the beginning of Liam's visits. Through the years, he had remained true to his promise. He did all he could to befriend her and never tried to sway her from seeking vengeance.

Olivia had once asked him how he could take her threat against his father so easily.

He had merely shrugged, explaining that he knew it was the way of things. His father had killed both her parents, while he had only lost one. He hoped she didn't since he did not wish to see his father or her dead.

Olivia had then told him again how weird he was, bringing another smile to his lips.

And now here he was again, calmly taking her promised vengeance well.

"So what business brings you here tonight?" She asked.

"Father thinks it is time I chose a wife." Liam responded. "I thought you should know that I will be spending more time in your kingdom to find one."

Olivia shot up off the bench. "What? But you promised to never hurt a human!"

"And I will keep true to that." He explained.

"But..." Olivia's brow furrowed. "You'll turn her into a vampire."

"Only if she wishes it." Liam explained. "I won't force her to make such a decision."

"I see." She began to pace while thinking. "You'll have vampire children."

"Only if she's a vampire." He reminded her. "Remember my brother."

Olivia paused. She had forgotten about Leo Rhys, The Great Disappointment of the Dark Kingdom. His mother had begged Constantine not to turn her. It had never been asked before, and in his mercy he had agreed. That was when they all discovered that a monster and a human could only produce a human child. In order for the heir to the Dark Kingdom to be a vampire, both parents had to be the same being.

"And you'll be fine having human children?" She asked. "If you're chosen bride refuses the Vampire's Kiss?"

"Of course." He responded.

"Lord, you're so weird." She muttered.

His smirk flashed. "Let's hope the woman I choose doesn't think so."

"Are there no women in your kingdom you can choose from?" She asked.

"I've looked." He shook his head. "It's hard to explain, but if one doesn't have an arranged marriage, then we must search until we see the one meant for us."

"And you somehow got weirder." She brushed her hands down her pants and held one out to him. "Good luck, I suppose."

"Thank you." He grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. "I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"There's no need."

"Of course there is." He winked at her on his way out. "We're friends."

Her lips parted to once again remind him that they couldn't be. For some reason, she decided not to say it.

Liam had somehow wormed his way into her life and had become the closest friend she had ever had.

********************

The Lee Residence, Shanghai, China...

Lorelei paled as she reread the report. 

It can’t be. Not Now!

Of all the times for this to happen, it would be when her stubborn, foolish daughter decided to visit. 

Given the nature of her relationship with Hana, she knew that there was no way she could convince her to postpone her trip to Cordonia. 

There was only one course of action left to take. She would have to call the one man who was capable of protecting her daughter. She would promise hiim anything as long as he kept Hana out of Liam’s clutches. As much as wanted her to give up this ridiculous hobby she called a job and settled down with the right sort of man, she would never put her in the path of becoming the next vampire queen. 

Setting down the packet of information from one of her informants, she checked to make certain no servant was out in the hallway and then searched for the needed phone number.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the call.

Her trepidation grew when he didn’t immediately answer.

"Hello."

"Lord Beaumont?" 

"Yes." She could hear a door closing in the background. "Who is this?"

"Lorelei Lee." She replied.

"Lady Lorelei." He responded with a recognition. "How can I help you?"

"My daughter and her friend have got it in their heads to come visit Cordonia." She began. "I'm not certain how long they intend to stay, but I was hoping that I could retain your services."

"For what exactly?" Lord Beaumont asked.

"Protection." She replied. "I have heard through certain channels that the dark prince is beginning to search for a bride." She took a deep breath. "We do NOT want our daughter anywhere near that vile creature."

"I understand." He replied. "I usually don't do personal security. With my brother, Bertrand, retired," he hesitated, "it is left up to me to help protect Cordonia's borders."

"My husband and I would be in your debt if you could watch over her in the evenings." Lorelei cajoled. "I've heard that your brother is planning on extending his vineyards. We would be more than happy to invest in the production and distribution of his sparkling wine. Perhaps even let it be the only sparkling wine we serve in our hotels."

"Send me her information and picture. Call her and tell her that since our family is an old friend of yours, that I've volunteered to show them around. Find out where she's staying and when she plans on arriving."

"Oh thank you, my lord. We--"

"I'll also need a contract prepared and signed for all that you offered." He added.

"Yes of course. I'll get everything to you at once." She promised.

Once he ended the call, she sank back down onto her chair. 

She bowed her head and began to pray that her daughter came to no harm these next few weeks. To lose Hana to one of the many creatures that roamed the night in Cordonia was too horrible to even contemplate.

If anyone could keep her daughter safe then it was none other than Lord Maxwell Beaumont.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

If you were a Durmstrang Student (Draco x reader)

Warnings: Bodily harm, physical fighting, fluff, panic attacks, alluding to... Ahem... Doing the do

Notes: I'm not saying Durmstrang is like this all of the time. It's just an idea that came to mind. And also the fact that in the books that headmaster made me UNCOMFORTABLE.

So you spent your first year of school in Durmstrang

As an American

You obviously didn't do well considering: A) Language barrier and B) everyone was so serious all of the time

You took on a serious demeanor and the first time your parents saw the school they kind of realized you hated it.

You learned discipline from them but jesus, at what cost?

Finally your parents decided to find a better fit after moving elsewhere.

You basically did walkthroughs of different schools

And you saw Hogwarts and thought: "Damn. I wanna go here."

You running into a blonde boy who couldn't take his eyes off of you.

Apologizing for it and him noticing the uniform.

"Sorry, are you from Durmstrang?" He asked.

"Yes I am." You nodded.

You being able to sit in the great hall while your parents work out the kinks.

Draco telling you to sit with Slytherin

You telling the Slytherins about your time at Durmstrang

"Do you like it?" A student asked.

"Not really. Everyone is so... Emotionless. It's more of a military academy than a wizarding school." You muttered.

Draco noticed the look on your face.

You weren't exactly happy with it and he could tell that you were being honest

"Surely there's something you look forward to while you're there?" A student asked.

You pondered and then laughed.

"Does sparring count?" You asked.

Them not getting it.

"Sparring. Like fighting with rules?" You asked.

"Sorry you guys... Duel?" Someone else asked.

"No. Sparring. Like physical fighting not magic. We're trained with magic and physical strength it's why we're good at quidditch." You explained.

A few students went "Oooh" as a response

You were a bit of an odd ball to Draco but something told him you were definitely a Slytherin.

Well he was right.

After the great hall Dumbledore ultimately decided to allow you to transfer and took you back to the office for a sorting.

The hat pondered between houses and decided slytherin was the best for you.

The next school year Draco saw you in Diagon Alley but couldn't tell if he was hallucinating or actually seeing you.

Then he saw you on the train and gaped.

"You're... Here? And in Slytherin?!" He asked noticing the robes.

You laughed. "Yes, I was in the middle of the transfer process when you met me." You said.

He of course stuck with you, him finding out more personal things

Your birthday, your favorite things, more stories about Durmstrang

He was really excited to learn more about you.

You really enjoyed spending time with this boy

And as he listened to you he started to become really grateful that his parents decided against Durmstrang

Yes, they may have been prestigious. But considering he could tell something happened there that seemed to bother you, Draco was glad he never went.

Occasionally Draco would notice certain things here and there

Like a scar on your hand that went to your wrist

The scar on your neck that you tried to hide

Why were there so many scars?

There was a reason indeed for those.

And that was that damn headmaster

For the less obedient students, physical punishment was not off limits

Your parents were unaware of that until after you transferred

You usually stood up for the little guys and often got in trouble for it

You hated him. You hated that headmaster more than you could say.

Whenever you were asked about your scars you'd go quiet and appear to just be seething.

Draco couldn't tell why you'd get so upset over them but he never asked

Because of your need to stand up for the little guy however, you did snap at Draco for mocking Longbottom

He didn't understand why you cared but you clearly did

Harry noticed it and so did Ron

Both of them started talking to you, which naturally pissed off Draco

And some insults were thrown and you showed little to no reaction

You may have been a little shorter than the boys at the school but when you go to a school where physical altercations were a regular thing, verbal insults don't bother you as much.

You did however hate hearing them from Draco. That upset you.

He could tell he went too far and later apologized around Christmas

You accepted the apology and his attitude slowly began to change from stuck up to more sarcastic than anything.

His parents were pleased to know his new friend was a Slytherin and from Durmstrang.

Your parents worked for the ministry (thus why you moved multiple times) and you ended up meeting them at a dinner over the summer

"Did you enjoy your time at Durmstrang?" Narcissa asked.

Your eyes almost seemed to glaze over, all of the adults took notice and immediately knew something was off

"....Yes. I did." You said in almost a trance

Draco rose a brow noticing you'd never answered like that before

And then he realized: the times he'd heard you answer were to students. You never answered the adults when asking that.

It was most likely an enforced reaction for you.

"...How was it really?" Lucius asked.

"...I need to be excused." You said leaving abruptly.

Your mother sighed and shook her head. "She hasn't been the same since her time there..." Your mother admitted.

"It's like they still are controlling her, even when she's not there." Your father sighed.

Both of Draco's parents were now glad they never enrolled Draco there.

"Can I go look for Y/n? She looked upset." Draco asked.

Both of your parents nodded and he found you rather quickly.

You were in the library, sitting by a small fire in the fireplace.

You looked like you were crying.

"Y/n?" Draco asked.

You wiped your eyes. "Hi Draco." You said.

"You don't have to pretend, it's just me." He assured.

You sighed. "Why does everyone always want to know about that damn school?" You muttered.

"Probably because most people stay there when they're enrolled." He shrugged.

You shook your head. "It's not fair that I lost a year of my time to them." You muttered.

He kneeled next to your seat. "Then we'll have more fun to make up for that year." Draco assured.

You smiled at him and he smiled at you

It was the first time your heart really skipped a beat with him and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

The next time you saw Draco his hair wasn't slacked anymore and he was taller

He noticed you were a lot more prettier than usual too

The two of you never left each other's side unless you had to

You ended up having fun with him that year

You were the one to stop Buckbeak from injuring Draco that year

You stood there between the two, making sure that the creature wouldn't harm him.

"Rest easy there little guy... He's all bark and no bite don't worry." You said to Buckbeak, bowing to him.

Buckbeak bowed to you and you smiled.

Draco found you very attractive when that happened too, your smile usually made him notice you more.

Hogsmeade being really fun.

Ron and Hermione both laughing as you had a snowball fight with them.

Draco reading in the corner trying to avoid talking to them

Him feeling the snow hit his arm.

"Did you just... Throw snow at me?" He asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh lighten up Draco--"

And then a snowball hurdled towards her and you were laughing.

Having a moment where you both tripped midsnowball fight and fell onto each other.

You being a blushing mess and him helping you up.

You screaming after Harry just popped up next to you.

Poor bastard forgot that you went to the wizarding equivalent to a military academy so you kind of....

Drop kicked him.

"Oh my God Harry I am so sorry!" You said helping him up.

"Christ Potter! Where'd you come from!?" Draco said surprised.

"Can you stand, oh God tell me you can stand!?" You said panicked.

He assured you he was fine.

And then asked you to show him how to do that.

So it turned to you teaching the group self defense

No surprise, your best class was "Defense against the dark arts"

Draco loved seeing you passionate about it too

His parents sending you a Christmas gift

Which was a cane! That doubled as a blade

You and Draco were the only two that knew that and it was going to stay that way

Lucius' mind set when he bought it was "Watch that headmaster try to touch her now. Bastard."

No one really understood how terrifying you found that headmaster until the boggart lesson

No surprise: it was him

Everyone was confused and Remus saw the pure terror on your face

You were so scared and it was obvious from the shaking

Remus handled it and talked to you after class

He knew something was up and hated to see you anxious

You would stay in his classroom when the younger students would bombard you with questions

Draco would sit with you two

Days where you both sat in there, him sitting in a seat and using another as a footrest while you sat next to him smiling and laughing.

Oh Remus knew you liked him

You noticed Hermione showing at random times

You were confused until the day that you and the group found out that Lucius somehow caught wind of the fact that Buckbeak almost hurt you and Draco.

You guys went on a rescue mission

Draco was with you guys because if it was important to you then damn it, it was important to him

So the plan didn't exactly... Go to plan

Finding out your favorite teacher was a werewolf wasn't in the plan

Neither was finding out that that same teacher was basically housing a convict.

Or discovering Harry's parents were killed by Ron's pet rat

You almost killing Peter with your Christmas gift but being caught off guard by the fact that REMUS WAS A WEREWOLF

All of you swearing not to tell another soul about anything.

The group becoming closer to Draco.

Draco's family actually offered to have you over for the summer and you accepted

Lucius noticing Draco's smile when you were present

You enjoying Narcissa's company.

You were a little oblivious to them being supporters of the dark Lord but that mainly came from the fact that weird behavior wasn't unusual in Durmstrang

Going to the World Quidditch game and basically freezing up because the Durmstrang headmaster was near you.

You having to relocate with Draco because you were on the verge of a panic attack

"H-He's here Draco-- I-I can't" you hyperventilated.

Arthur Weasley finding you. "Oh dear... You poor thing, why don't you come with us to the tent, we'll make tea?" He offered.

You accepted and Harry swore he'd punch the shit out of the headmaster if he came near you.

You all laughed but then you heard screaming.

You basically defending them, again with your Christmas present from Lucius

Coming face to face with a death eater and having a blade put to your neck

Draco sneaking up behind them and knocking them out before bolting.

Somehow you were calm for that.

Truth be told: that wasn't uncommon at Durmstrang either.

The school year starting off with you finding out that Durmstrang would be with you

You naturally freaked the hell out

Especially when they introduced the schools and the headmaster noticed you.

You were shaking the entire time

Then there was one student who you saw that seemed to calm you

Viktor Krum

He took his seat with you and almost seemed to be like a big brother

Course Draco was so jealous he couldn't see that

You seemed a little less anxious when Krum was present and that mainly came from the fact that when you were in trouble at Durmstrang, Krum would step in.

You being excited for Viktor when he was selected

Then said excitement disappearing when Harry's name popped out.

You asking if there was anyway to take his place, practically begging.

You couldn't. But you were allowed to help him if he asked for it.

Then the first trial came up.

And the only thing you heard was "Y/N, HELP!"

You immediately ran down there and fought a fucking dragon.

Harry narrowly escaping with the egg and you.

You coming back to the stands and Draco being so relieved that he kissed you

In front of everyone.

Krum smiling like an idiot because his little sister was in love.

Then it became you and Draco doing things together all of the time

Days where you sat in the astronomy tower, looking out at the school and enjoyed each other's company.

Draco holding you in his arms while reading in the common room.

Nose kisses. He loved it when you kissed his nose

Asking you to the Yule ball

You saying yes because DUH.

You ending up being apart of Viktor's Trial

Draco being confused on where you were until someone mentioned that a faculty member asked you to be a part of this.

Draco's heart dropping

Viktor coming out of the water with you.

Your first words were "Whoever decided this would be fun right before winter can actually bite me!"

Fleur coming up empty handed and you knowing there was a child down there

You dropping everything and charging towards the water

The Durmstrang headmaster stopping you and saying "This isn't your challenge girl."

You pulling back your arm with this look that could kill

You growling out "I don't care." Before jumping back in.

Draco almost passing out because he thought he was going to lose you.

Viktor assuring him that you could do this.

You coming back up with Gabrielle

Draco wrapping you in his coat and holding your hands while breathing on them to keep you warm.

Him walking you back to the common room while everyone else was celebrating

Maybe he helped you change

Him seeing the full extent of why you truly feared the headmaster.

Scars were basically all over your back

He didn't care about them being there, he cared about why they were there.

You didn't actually do anything.

I mean yes: he did see you shirtless

But other than that he turned his back.

He wouldn't stop glaring at that headmaster whenever he was close by.

Actually, most of Slytherin seemed to be pissed.

Because when one of their own was hurt, that's when you should expect DEATH.

The Yule ball coming up and Narcissa being made aware of the fact that you were Draco's date.

Her sending you a dress

Viktor walking you down the stairs to Draco and then waiting for Hermione

Draco thinking "She is so out of my league"

You and him dancing together with smiles and laughter

Him kissing you before going to his dormitory

Both of you thinking about each other the whole night until you both went to the common room and fell asleep on the couch

No one daring to separate you two

Watching the final challenge and seeing Harry come back

Cedric being on the ground and Harry in a shocked state

You sprinting down there to make sure he was okay

"H-He wanted me to bring him back.... His parents"

You just hugged your friend until Mad eye came over

You knowing damn well that this was just the beginning of something massive

You preparing yourself over the summer by physical training.

The Malfoy's acting even weirder than last time

You learning that they were supporters of the dark lord

Them wanting to genuinely keep you safe

You agreeing to join up when the time came

Then you turning into a double agent

Both you and Draco did actually

Your shocked faces when Snape was in the Manor

Umbridge really liking you for some reason

You secretly helping Fred and George

You finding out that Umbridge was hurting students and you stepping in

Then when she threatened you-- Draco stepping in with some more serious threats.

When she was dragged off by centaurs you all celebrated

Maybe Draco and you celebrate in your own way

Maybe you two had some... Fun

Him waking up next to you and thinking he was the luckiest guy in the world

You and him becoming inseparable

You finding out about the battle at the ministry

You and Draco sneaking off to the Burrow and finding Harry so emotionally drained.

You hugging Harry as he just cried for hours

Draco knowing damn well this was going to get ugly very soon

Him knowing there was a plan in the works with the dark lord

He just didn't know that the plan would involve Voldemort staying in the Manor

Pt 2 coming next

[juminsmysticmc]

Omg. Requests are open. I'm so happy. Can I have rfa and minor trio helping their kid with math homework? Like these adult people vs. math. Thank you and have a nice day

RFA + Minor Trio helping their kid with Math 

Hello my love! I love these kind of requests and I was so happy to write it! I hope you enjoy it! Tell me your opinion!

Jumin

,,Mommy…?’’ a young boy called through the penthouse, getting out of his room and walking towards the door of his parent’s bedroom.

Just when he was about to open the door, the boy’s father quickly stepped out.

,,Mommy is sleeping. She’s not feeling well, did something happen?’’ Jumin asked his son and took him in his arms.

Usually, his son would play alone in the afternoon for half an hour or do his homework and then spend some time with his family, but today he was pretty long alone in his room.

,,I need mommy,’’ he repeated.

,,I don’t understand Math,’’ the boy whimpered, tears in his eyes.

,,Daddy will help you since Mommy needs to rest. You will be a big brother soon, that’s why Mommy needs to sleep a lot,’’ Jumin told him and took his son and went into his room.

Jumin looked at the worksheets.

,,So, Mommy is in one room and I join, how many people are there?’’ Jumin asked him.

His son looked at him with panic.

But then the young father had an idea.

He got up and returned a few seconds later with a few sweets in his hand.

,,Here, have one,’’ he said and saw how happily his son took the candy.

,,Do you want to have this candy too?’’ he asked him then.

,,How many candies would you have had then?’’ he kept asking his son.

Finally, the young student understood the question and with his father he kept working on his homework.

Zen

,,MOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYYYY!’’ a little white haired girl ran through the house, her book in her hands.

,,Baby, psssst…’’ Zen quickly caught his sunshine and kissed her.

,,Mommy is trying to get Hana to sleep,’’ he explained and kissed his ten year old.

He then asked her if she wanted to show him anything.

He was surprised when she proudly showed him her homework. However, everything was wrong.

,,Come, baby, let’s go over it together,’’ Zen said and carried his princess into her room and sat next to her.

He first erased her wrong answers and then slowly asked her, ,,Imagine you have to count the number five, five times… take a piece of paper and draw five circles,’’ he told her.

She followed his instructions and then looked at him.

,,So, now we have to count them five times,’’ he explained.

,,One… two… three… twenty… twenty-one… twenty-five…?’’ she asked him, looking at him.

,,Right! Twenty-five!’’ he smiled and patted on her head.

He thought that it was kind of cute that her solution was fifty-five.

And so, father and daughter tried to solve all the problems together.

Yoosung

Yoosung looked at his daughter’s worksheet.

Since when did children have such difficult questions? He asked himself and tried to look up a tutorial to help his fifteen year old son.

,,Okay,’’ he mumbled and paused the video.

His son was unmotivated, bored, and depressed that he couldn’t solve that one question.

,,I got it, son. Together, we can do it!’’ Yoosung tried to stay positive.

Indeed, Yoosung could explain the task and didn’t even fail at finding a solution. 

,,We have ten balls: two red, three white, and five blue. The probability of getting a blue ball is five to ten since we have ten balls in total and five balls which are blue,’’ he explained and drew a picture.

His son nodded as he began to understand what his father tried to tell him.

Half an hour later, they finally finished with the homework.

,,You were good! I will give you a cookie for your hard work!’’ Yoosung praised.

Since then, his son always asked his father for help when there was something that he didn’t understand in his homework.

,,I feel as if I am in school again,’’ he whined one night at you while you giggled.

Jaehee

,,Oh dear,’’ you sighted as you looked at the question over and over again.

You hated these kinds of questions.

You were just as depressed as your daughter.

Spending half an hour on a question with only three points, wasn’t the best start.

Luckily, Jaehee saw that both of you were helpless and quickly joined you on this beautiful Saturday afternoon.

,,So, you have these three lines and they are parallel, aren’t they?’’ she asked both of you and quickly could tell you what the task was about.

Indeed, this seemed to be pretty easy for Jaehee.

,,Okay, you will be in charge of math and I will take over everything else. Just don’t make me work on math ever again!’’ you laughed and got up, ready to go for a walk with your beautiful family after working on the hard question for such a long time.

Saeyoung

You expected Saeyoung to be good in math.

But you never thought that he would be that good.

You just spend half an hour on a single task, reading and reading the same question over and over again.

However, you didn’t understand anything.

Your twin girls looked at you.

,,Yesterday you said that mom knows everything,’’ one of your red haired angels told you.

You didn’t want to disappoint them, but for god’s sake, this single question was making you nervous.

It was as if someone would tell you that the sun is yellow and the house is green and ask you how long they took to build up the city.

,,I am home!’’ Saeyoung said after coming home, kissing his girl’s heads and your soft lips.

With a glance, he looked at the topic of his children’s homework.

,,I love this topic! LOLOL, this answer here is wrong,’’

And with that, you demanded that he explain the task to you, his children, and at some point, friends of his daughters.

And you were really glad that Saeyoung was by your side, supporting you as a wonderful father.

Saeran

Helpless.

This was the only thing Saeran felt when he looked at all the numbers of his daughter’s worksheet.

He gulped. 

He was good at hacking and he was good at math, but this was totally bullshit.

He looked at the clock. You were still away for a few more hours.

,,Daddy, you don’t need to if you don’t get it either,’’ his little girl mumbled and was about to close the book and put away her stuff.

,,Don’t worry, I will try it again,’’ he whispered and read the task over and over again.

He tried to write down the most important information of the question and wrote them down.

Step by step, he tried to solve the mystery until he succeeded.

Finally, the solution seemed to be logical.

,,Now, step by step, that’s their question and here is what they give you,’’ he began to explain.

The both of them began to work on the three pages his daughter had as homework.

When you came home, a big smile was on your face.

You softly brushed Saeran’s cheek and kissed your daughter’s head as their sleeping faces laid over their hard work.

Jihyun

,,I wanna go to mommy,’’ Lucy said. A few tears dripped down on her book as she held the pen with a trembling hand.

,,I know, Lucy,’’ Jihyun began.

,,But first, we need to work on these tasks and then I promise that we can go to mommy and your little brother in the hospital, yes?’’ he asked his adopted girl.

The girl looked at him and nodded.

Jihyun knew that the relationship between mother and daughter was different, but he never knew that there could be such a big difference.

And so, the mint haired man sat next to his daughter and observed his daughter’s studies.

,,Lucy, are you sure that 365 divided 5 is 74?’’ Jihyun asked her.

She looked at him and all over again she made the same mistake.  

,,Look,’’ he told her and took a pen in his hand and wrote down the question.

,,If you write down 365: 5, and you only take 36 : 5, you get the number…?’’ Jihyun waited.

,,Seven…?’’ she asked him.

Her father nodded.

,,So, we write down 365 : 5 = 7, but there isn’t a 36 in the multiplication of 5, right?’’

,,No, there’s just  5, 10, 15, 20, 25, 30, 35, and so on,’’ Lucy mumbled.

,,Perfect! So, below the 36 you write down 35. You subtract the numbers and take down the 15.

How often does 15 go into 5?’’ he asked.

Finally, Lucy understood what her father wanted to tell her and since then she calculated the problem his way.

Btw, it should look like that ( I sat 5 minutes at that question because I got confused)

365: 5 = 73

35

——–

  15

  15

——-

    0

Vanderwood

You rubbed your temples and stroked your belly as your son kept crying.

Suddenly your husband stepped in, asking the both of you what was happening.

,,I…I can’t help him anymore, Vanderwood,’’ you began to sob.

Vanderwood patted your head and told you to go to rest since you were already eight months pregnant.

,,The hero of the day will explain the question to him,’’ he told you, trying to make you feel better.

As soon as you stepped out, Vanderwood asked his son if crying would make him intelligent.

,,No? Then stop sobbing. I’m here to help you,’’ Vanderwood said, muting his son in lighting speed.

,,Look,’’ he began.

,,If you draw a point here, here, here, and there, and connect them, it gives you this curve right?

So now we need to use X to find out the calculation for this point,’’ he went on.

,,Let’s calm down and search for an easy walkthrough,’’ Vanderwood told him.

Indeed, the both of them found a way and could easily work on all the questions that were left.

Vanderwood tried his best to teach his son so that he would do well in the exam, which was around the corner.

And even though you couldn’t support them mentally, you decided to bring over some snacks and help them in your own way.

This was really funny, I used my mother as an example. My dad never successfully taught me maths XD I always began to cry with him, lol and I still do because I HATE MATH!

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

02.04.2020// 00:51 MEST

[inconnusmademoiselle]

1-5 for video game ask!

1. Do you try and stay away from walkthroughs?

Typically, yes. I try hard not to rely on them, but sometimes I just get impatient lol. I do like to go back and replay games with walkthroughs though to see if I missed a side quest.

2. Company you’re always loyal to?

Nintendo. 99% of the time, I enjoy whatever they put out there. Growing up, I felt like they took forever to make new games since my preorders kept getting delayed lol. but now I can definitely appreciate that they take their time and try to give us something special with every new release. I also love all of Nintendo’s trademark characters and games for nostalgic reasons lol. It’s what I mostly grew up on.

3. Best game you’ve ever played?

Oh this is hard lol. I think I gotta say Twilight Princess (I played the GameCube version, just to clarify lol) The art style/graphics were so unique, that soundtrack was amazing, and I thought the controls were great. I also can’t say enough about the story line. I LOVED the way it was connected to ocarina of time but didn’t really piggyback off of it too much. I don’t know if you’ve ever played it, but the damn twist that Midna a was this beautiful Princess all along really just blew my mind lmao. I remember my jaw dropped to the floor the first time I saw that cutscene. The character designs were also awesome. Princess Zelda looked so mature and refined ❤️ I need to stop right now because im going to write a damn essay about how much I loved the dungeons.

Best fighting game though? DBZ Budokai 3. I am unbeatable lmao.

4. Worst game ive ever played?

Superman 64, hands down.

Honorable mentions: Ju-On the grudge haunted house simulator and DBZ Sagas lol

5.a popular series /game you just can’t get into no matter how how I try?

This is going to be very controversial, but Breath Of The Wild. The Zelda series is my all time fave, and I usually love every new entry, but im just not feeling it. The more I play it, the more I realize that I just don’t like open world games all that much. I like structure and direction I guess lol. I’m also not that crazy about the voice acting. And one of the biggest things that bug me? Link’s costume design. The blue tunic is awesome! But I was really hoping that a new twist on the classic green tunic would have made an appearance before the final showdown with calamity Ganon (and have receiving that tunic be part of the story line). The chosen hero always wears green!!! 😫 I also wish it had dungeons with distinct soundtracks and aesthetics. God I probably sounds like a picky snob lmao

Are the graphics amazing? Is the soundtrack great? Is the storyline memorable? Absolutely. I can give that game credit where it’s due, but it just isn’t for me lol. On that note, I’m kinda bummed that there’s going to be a BOTW 2. I’m still patiently waiting for them to do a game that looks like this E3 tech demo. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you so much for the asks!! ❤️😃

[cryptidvoidwritings]

6. July | Human AU

*throws into the void*

It was the sort of summer day that made you want to lay on a wood floor with about a million ice packs and a distinct lack of movement because anything beyond breathing only served to make you hotter. Alonzo was pretty sure that dancing in this heat qualified as cruel and unusual punishment, but the show wasn’t going to wait just because of a heatwave.

If it was sweltering outside, the rehearsal studio was that much worse.

The afterthought room (widely suspected to have been a couple of old storage rooms before the concert hall added dance to the programming) had two windows that cracked maybe an inch when opened. It was crammed with bodies: Bodies stretching, practicing steps, trying to very move without touching each other (mostly because touching might just cause spontaneous combustion). The usual chatter that would have otherwise pervaded was gone, though the occasional half-hearted mutter broke the silence every so often. Alonzo was just happy he’d gotten in early enough to stake his territory by one of the windows.

The studio door opened, admitting Munkustrap and dance captain Quaxo; Munkustrap talking while Quaxo made notes on an iPad and nodded. The room stopped moving and stood at attention.

“Morning, all,” Munkustrap said. He was already sweating. Alonzo sympathized. “We’re about ready to take the stage. Gus is going to take us all on a quick tour at 10. Then we’ll have a couple of hours to get used to the set and we’ll do a walkthrough after lunch.”

The room swelled in various acknowledgments and the company returned to wrapping up their warmups.

Munkustrap picked his way over to Alonzo and smiled in greeting. “Excited to see the stage?”

“It’ll be a welcome change from Shoreditch[1]. Certainly can’t be worse than this.”

Munkustrap laughed. “True.”

The wall clock struck 10. Tugger walked in, arms spread wide as if presenting himself to adoring fans. (Even the heat couldn’t stop the immediate series of greetings in various pitches and levels of excitement, though the usual hurry was subdued.) The golden-haired man moved through the room offering winks and bumping fists or hips. It was fascinating to watch the entire company promptly forgot about their previous care to not touch each other.

Alonzo followed Tugger’s path. “Figures he’d be late.”

“Hm?” Munkustrap followed Alonzo’s gaze to Tugger. “Oh. No, we came together. He’s been around.”

“You’ve been here for how long?”

“At least as long as Quaxo.”

“Did he use any of that time to practice? He hasn’t been in at all since I got here.”

“You haven’t been here the whole time I have,” Tugger’s voice interjected from behind Alonzo, causing him to flinch violently, “Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing important things.”

“I’m sure,” Alonzo said tightly.

“We all know I’m here to look good and sing better, anyway,” Tugger grinned.

Gus poked his head in to announce their backstage tour, saving Alonzo from needing to reply. As they headed through the winding halls and wings, Alonzo kept as casually far away from Tugger as possible. He inspected every part of the stage where the taller man was not and was peering at a portion of pipe that could be crawled through- certainly not at Tugger’s back- when Mungojerrie’s face was suddenly very close to his own and grinning at him.

“You tryin’ ta set Tugs on fire?” Mungojerrie asked.

“What?” Alonzo blinked. He dragged his eyes back to the pipe.

“You been starin’ at him for like, the last twenty minutes when you think he’s not lookin’. Kinda cute.”

Then Mungojerrie skittered away to his twin, waving his hands at her. Alonzo felt exhausted just looking at him. Unwilling to be caught out watching Tugger again, he moved to stage left to check the bed frame and maybe climb it; as he did, he caught sight of wild golden hair disappearing through the wings. Tugger was unaccompanied and nobody seemed to be aware that he’d left.

Alonzo frowned. He paused for a second, then followed.

Tugger left backstage, heading past the dressing rooms, wardrobe, and the wig room. There was something... off that Alonzo couldn’t put his finger on- even beyond the fact that Tugger was bunking off the start of tech week. Tugger slipped into the studio and Alonzo saw the lights go off through the window in the door.

He sidled up to the door. Even peering into the small space it took him a moment to clock the other man- Tugger was curled against the wall in the darkest corner of the studio, eyes closed, sipping at a tiny paper cup of water.

Alonzo went in. “Tugger?”

“‘Lonz?”

“You disappeared. I came looking.”

“Knew you liked me,” Tugger said.

His lips attempted to lift at the corners but the best he could manage was a tired, pale imitation of his usual brilliant smile. Everything about his posture was tired. His eyes didn’t open.

“You don’t look well.”

“Heat headache,” Tugger shrugged. “‘S the humidity. Light hurts. ‘Straps knows.”

Alonzo huffed. He kept his footsteps light as he approached. He knelt in front of the other man and rested a hand on Tugger’s ankle to announce himself. The hand that wasn’t holding the tiny paper cup came to rest on Alonzo’s.

“You should have said, idiot,” Alonzo muttered.

“Wasn’t that bad earlier.”

Which meant that he hadn’t wanted anybody to see his perceived weakness or ask for help, the stubborn man. Alonzo sighed. “You need anything?”

“A nap in a dark place?”

“Don’t know if we can leave for a nap,” Alonzo said. He squeezed Tugger’s ankle and went to his bag. Buried at the bottom of his bag was a scarf that he kept at the ready for emergency stuck-in-an-over-air-conditioned space purposes. It was thin material, but it would block ambient light from the curtainless windows. He filled his water bottle at the cooler and ran some cold water onto the scarf as well.

Tugger was squinting at him as he returned. One eyebrow tried to lift in amusement. It almost made it. “Time and place, ‘Lonz?”

Alonzo snorted. “Hush. You need dark. Lean forward a bit.”

Tugger did so. He made a soft noise of relief when Alonzo laid the damp part of the scarf over his eyes and temples. Keeping a hand on Tugger’s shoulder to hold him in place, Alonzo swiveled around to sit next to him. He held the water bottle to Tugger’s lips and waited patiently for Tugger to drink from it. When his golden-haired moron finished, Alonzo set the bottle aside and maneuvered Tugger down until his head was in Alonzo’s lap. The fact that Tugger moved without complaint confirmed how poorly he was feeling.

“Better?” he asked, stroking a fingertip just along the skin at the top fold of the scarf.

“‘S nice,” Tugger mumbled.

Alonzo dragged his nails into Tugger’s hairline. He trailed his fingers down that long neck, feeling sweat-slick skin jump under his touch. Tugger rewarded him with the slightest of pleased hums.

“I’ll wake you for lunch.”

“Before th’others?”

“Yes, ridiculous man, before they come back.”

+

An hour later the studio door screeched open and startled Alonzo out of his doze. Munkustrap stood there; he grimaced apologetically but didn’t seem unduly surprised to see Alonzo. (Alonzo wondered if Tugger had told his brother or if Munkustrap just guessed.)

“Thought it would be quieter.” Munkustrap said softly. “We’re almost done for lunch.”

Alonzo looked at Tugger, who hadn’t even twitched. He hated the idea of waking Tugger, but he had promised. He didn’t look at Munkustrap as he placed his fingers lightly on Tugger’s temples and started massaging careful circles, increasing the pressure just a little every few seconds. It didn’t take long for Tugger to shift and stretch out his long legs. His breath hitched sleepily.

“Morning,” Alonzo murmured.

“‘S it lunch already?”

“Mmmmhm. Munkustrap is here.”

Tugger waved at the door. Alonzo watched sweat-damp skin gleam as it stretched over his muscles.

“Doing better?” Munkustrap asked. “Everyone is still pretty sedate but you know how lunch gets.”

“I’ll survive it,” Tugger chuckled.

Alonzo was pleased to see his smile wasn’t so strained at the edges this time around.

Munkustrap smiled. “I’ll start rounding everyone up. You have 15 tops.”

He was gone in a heartbeat. Tugger shifted and made as though to reach for the blindfold. Alonzo caught his arm. The lithe man turned his face towards Alonzo’s chest, eyebrows lifting. The start of a smirk was curling at the corner of his lips. Alonzo lifted his legs to bring Tugger closer and bent down to kiss that smirk away.

“Hello to you, too,” Tugger hummed when they parted.

“You good?”

“In all ways,” Tugger purred.

Alonzo bit Tugger’s bottom lip. He traced the delicate brow ridge, down his nose- tugging the scarf lightly as he did- and over his lips. Tugger’s tongue darted out, catching the tip of Alonzo’s finger. Alonzo allowed Tugger the lick and then kissed him again; more insistent this time. Tugger’s lips parted further and his tongue slid languidly against Alonzo’s. A hand cupped the back of Alonzo’s head and tangled in his short, black hair while they shared long, slow breaths.

They pulled apart only when they heard distant chatter coming down the hallway.

“This keeps you pliant,” Alonzo mused, slipping the scarf from Tugger’s head.

Tugger’s eyes fluttered open and warm honey met Alonzo’s gaze. “Taking notes?”

“Observation for later.”

Laughing, Tugger sat up. He rolled out his neck and shoulders slowly. “Walk me through the end of the dance?”

Alonzo nodded, getting to his feet and taking the starting pose of the final section. Tugger got into place at his side and they began to work through the moves; Tugger humming the music to keep the beat. Alonzo licked his lips absently, reminding himself of Tugger’s taste, and hoped that later came sooner.

[1] I am led to believe that this is a rehearsal space in London

[talkinbouttinygames]

The Witness & The Anti-Hardcore Walkthrough Club

Steam says I have played The Witness for 31 hours. That’s not as much as it could be - I haven’t played it in two years, and never finished it originally after my save got wiped in an accident - but the reason I’m writing about it now is because I recently picked it back up, remembered how much fun it was, and am now intent on finishing it. However, despite how much time I’ve sunk into it (much more than most games covered in this ‘zine), despite the fact that I enjoy it enough to re-do all of my progress from two years ago, I can’t recommend the game, and the reason why is that I’m playing it wrong.

Okay.

For those who haven’t heard of it, The Witness is a puzzle game created by Jonathan Blow (at which point I am legally obligated to quip, yes that Jonathan Blow) based around completing line mazes on panels scattered across a very pretty island. The most simple puzzle at the start entails the player drawing a starting line from the starting circle to the other side, with later puzzles gaining more maze-like shapes, or other requirements, like the line needing to cross over every dot that appears on the board, or separate differently-coloured squares, or outline a drawn tetris shape. Additionally, other puzzles incorporate the surrounding environment: sunlight exposes a smudged line that reveals the correct path on a panel when looking at the right angle, tinted glass exposes the true color of panel squares, shadows from foliage above ‘block off’ incorrect passages, and so on.

A lot’s been said about The Witness: Blow’s design process for its puzzle mechanics, how it silently guides the player into learning mechanics, and what it truly means. But I’m not going to talk about any of those things, firstly because I can’t say anything that hasn’t already been said on those subjects, and secondly because for nearly the entire time I played the game, I had my phone opened up to a full-spoiler walkthrough.

The Witness is far from a casual game. While the game’s been praised for stepping back and allowing players to have ‘eureka! moments’ when trying to figure out how a given puzzle works, that same lack of explicit guidance can make it hostile to a player that isn’t able to connect the dots. Additionally, the line puzzles are the only interactable elements that exist in the game, outside of scattered audio logs around the island. This hyperfocus on the line puzzles (and the sheer magnitude of how many there are) means that in order to truly enjoy The Witness, you really need to be stoked about solving cereal box mazes.

...Don’t you?

When I first googled The Witness, my first thought was not, “wow, those puzzles look interesting”. It was “woah, this shit’s really pretty,” followed by “I think I would buy this game just to walk around in this world”. Evidently, I did - albeit on a half-off sale for 20 dollars instead of the usual forty. True to what I had seen, the world’s gorgeous, a variety of different landscapes with vibrant colours that seemed out of the painting. The way the puzzles interacted with the environment was also pleasant, at least with the ability to look up the answers for any of them at the glance. I took pleasure in screencapping scenes I found to be beautiful and sending them to my friends, and generally just being… present in the world I found myself in.

Perhaps it was a waste, that I refused to engage with the challenges the game presented me, that I cheated my way around obstacles that were supposed to give a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment and instead chose to meander around and treat the game as a glorified walking simulator. Given the common debate of whether accessibility features should disable achievements, and the gaming-originated term of ‘git gud’, it’s clear that the idea of ‘play experience integrity’ is one that a fair amount of gamers stick to. That idea is a complicated one that I can’t cover here, but my experience with The Witness falls on the fringes of it. While the certain type of gamers who scream about ‘casuals’ cheating themselves out of the Real Experience is an debate that deals with players changing the details of their play experience in order to follow the intended final destination of that experience, what happens when someone buys your game for a purpose completely unrelated to what the developer actually focused on? Is The Witness a good puzzle game? Who cares! Not me!

It’s like writing a novel that reveals integral qualities into the human condition, and then someone buys it because the size and paper type of the pages makes for good hamster bedding.

But I still enjoyed The Witness, because I was still playing the game - I completed every single area save for the final one because after that it wipes your save and I’d need to go through all the puzzles again to explore freely. And in the eyes of the game, what difference is there between my save file and someone who actually sat down and solved every single puzzle themselves. 

When talking to a friend about using a walkthrough while playing The Witness, he confessed - with slight guilt - to using walkthroughs in order to avoid missing anything. In response, I proposed we start the Anti-Hardcore Walkthrough Club - a hallowed league of gamers that place themselves highly in their ability to make things as easy for themselves as possible, because sometimes that’s what you’re looking for. In all seriousness, though, there’s a legitimate idea behind the joke - the sort-of  idea of the ‘death of the game designer’, that any way of playing a game is fair under cheats, mods, house rules, and yes, even focusing on a completely arbitrary and besides-the-point facet of the game. As long you’re aware that by doing so you can only speak to your specific style of play - a fact which applies to the hardcore gamers as much as the rest of us. To 100% a game on the hardest difficulty available isn’t necessarily a virtue, and cherry picking what parts of a game you care about and focusing on them isn’t necessarily a sin.

So, if I didn’t actually ‘play’ The Witness in the way a vast majority of people aim to play it, what can I say about it? This:

10/10. Best hamster bedding I’ve ever used.

[nikki-fucking-sixx]

Together Without You: Chapter Five

You sigh as you stare at yourself in the mirror. The girl staring back at you resembles your facial features, but the body has changed. You turn so you’re facing it head-on so that your bump doesn’t seem visible at all. You look like the old you. You turn to the right and see the bump. It is slight, you have only been pregnant for a short time but it is definitely there. You put your hands on it, hoping maybe you’ll feel something, any kind of reference to the fact that there is a life inside of you. You wait. You know it is illogical as the baby is a sack of cells right now, but you want something to happen. As you thought, nothing happened. 

You turn away from the mirror and throw on a black shirt. It used to fit you perfectly, but now there was a tightness around the stomach that looked like you ate a bit too much at breakfast. Now it was time for the true test, the pants. You stare at the pair of jeans on your bed, ready to play this cruel game. You take them in your hands and examine them, like you had never seen such material before. You put one foot in the first leg and the second in the other before pulling up the jeans. They slid on like normal. You felt yourself smile. You face the mirror again to see that you still have not zippered and buttoned them. 

Shit.

You take a deep breath in and pull in your stomach. The button clasps. You then quickly pull up the zipper. You managed to get dressed for work. It only took you twenty minutes rather than the two minutes it usually took you. You grab your keys as you walk out of your apartment and make your way to the car. As you get in, you look at yourself in the rearview mirror to see a makeup-free face. You scowl and turn away. Today was the day you were supposed to have your doctors appointment with Nikki and you wanted to at least look presentable. Now you just looked like some fat zombie. Great. You grab your jean jacket from the back and throw it on, hoping it will hide some of the exposed bump.

You make it to work a few minutes late, something rare for you. Then again, it is a Saturday at 8:00 am, so it should be pretty empty. You walk in to see Gus, the line cook, and Ron, the dishwasher, looking absentmindedly at the small TV in the corner playing some news show. You smile at Gus before grabbing your apron and walking into the dining room. There were two parties there and an empty parking lot, perfect. 

“Hey, where have you been?” You turn around to see the only other waitress working this shift, Lisa. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, my alarm didn’t go off.” That’s a lie.

“Ok,” She didn’t care, “It’s been empty so far,” And at that she wanders over to the bar. You grab your apron from the host stand before following her. She grabs the whiskey from the bar and pops it open before pouring herself a glass.

“Starting early today?” You joke, cracking a smile.

“I’m here, I have to if I want to get through this shift.” She pours a large glass and takes a big swig. “Do you want a sip?” 

You immediately shake your head, “No, I don’t like whiskey,” That was also a lie.

“Whatever,” And at that, she has her lips back on the glass. “So, I heard some gossip the other day.” 

“What gossip?”

“That you slept with a rockstar,” You feel your bones freeze under your skin.

“Excuse me?” You wanted to keep some composure.

“Gus told me,” She takes another sip, “You and Nikki fucking Sixx were yelling at each other about some shit. He said it sounded intense.” 

“That doesn’t mean we slept together.” 

“Then why would you be yelling at each other?” She stares you down.

“There are plenty of reasons why we would be yelling at each other,” You refute, “He’s an asshole anyway.” 

“Well, it just sounds-” And at that you saw Gus stick his head out the door.

“(Y/N), could I see you in the back?” You don’t mean to but you speed into the kitchen. Gus is back behind the grill, hiding, as he can see the anger in your eyes.

“What the fuck Gus!” You storm over to him.

“What?” He plays dumb.

“Why’d you tell Lisa about Nikki?” You feel your voice rising, “I told you that in confidence.”

He looks flustered, “She was badgering me about it. She saw him and the band walk in and heard you two screaming at each other and she knows we’re friends so-”

“What did you tell her!” You shout. 

“Nothing.” He says meekly, “Believe me, I said nothing.”

“You know what,” You lower your voice, “It’s fine, if you didn’ give her any details, we’re fine.” At that, you turn to what is cooking on the stove. It was probably one of the least inspired looking eggs you have ever seen. Gus could tell what you were thinking.

“They said they wanted an omelet if you want to talk to the reigns.” He smiles at you and you smile back. This was his apology and you gladly accepted. He knew that cooking brought you joy. Being able to eat something that you made that was also delicious was a great feeling. You brought the eggs out to the table and watched from afar as the older woman looked pleased with her meal. You felt much better, maybe even ready for the doctor’s appointment. 

Before long, it was 3:00 and your shift was done. Your appointment was at 3:30 and at the doctor’s office down the street. You get there at 3:15 and sit in the waiting room, watching all the other women in the room stare at you. Well, not just the women, but the women and their husbands. Every woman came accompanied by a man with a ring on his finger. And here you were, an unwed mother without her rockstar one-night stand. You looked at your watch, 3:20, he still had time. The next ten minutes went by quickly and still no Nikki. You feel your legs shaking as the nurse comes in and calls out your name. You get up and follow her to the examination room. You lay down on the cot and the nurse asks you routine questions, name, birthday etc. You answer her questions lazily, staring at the clock. 3:37, where the fuck was he? The nurse noticed your anticipation and gave you a warm smile.

“Expecting someone?” You give her a light smile.

“Yeah,” She gets up and grabs her clipboard. 

“You know how men are, they wait until the last minute to leave and expect the show to wait for them,” She pushes a strand of grey hair behind her ear, “He’ll be here soon honey, don’t worry.” Her words soothed you and she left. Now it was just you, wondering when he would get there. When you hear the door open five minutes later, you expect to see the big-haired rocker walkthrough but instead, it was just your doctor. 

“Nice to see you Mrs. (Y/L/N)-”

“It’s actually just Ms.” You can’t help but interrupt.

“Sorry, Ms. (Y/L/N). Are you here alone?” You give a tight-lipped smile, about to answer when you see Nikki finally run into the room. 

“No, she’s here with me.” He looks flustered, his face losing the sense of mystery that it tends to have. You maintain your composure although it is taking every muscle in your body not to punch him.

“Ok, and what’s your name, sir?”

“Nikki,” The doctor looks down at his clipboard and writes it down. 

“And you’re the presumed father?” You did not like his wording.

“Yes.” He steps over to your side. You can’t even look at him. 

“Well, you’re just in time Nikki because we’re going to check up on your baby.” You felt your nerves begin to set in again. This was your first time seeing your child. The child you don’t really want but the child you will have. You feel Nikki staring at you but you don’t look at him. You hear the doctor saying medical jargon as he spreads some goo on your abdomen. Everything he says goes over your head. All you can think about was how late Nikki was. What the fuck was he even doing? Is this going to be a trend? Will he miss the baby’s birth? Your mind was racing, thinking of every terrible way Nikki could wrong you when suddenly you heard a beat. It was strong and steady and it rang throughout the room. You look up, confused.

“What is that?”

“Your baby’s heartbeat.” And in that moment, everything faded away. It was your baby. And they had a heartbeat. No sound had ever sounded so beautiful before. You finally look at Nikki and he is staring at you. You cannot help but stare back up at him. You didn’t look at him with anger, but rather with something you couldn’t quite distinguish. You then feel his fingertips touch the palm of your hand. You don’t pull away but instead let his fingers travel to where yours are and let him entwine them together. It was so simple but it was perfect. In that moment it was just the three of you. You felt peace. This did not last too long as the doctor lets out a cough. You look over at him.

“Would you like to see the sonogram?” You nod and at that, the screen to the right of you turns on to reveal a black mass. It really did not look like anything to you until the image focused on a small pea. Or a bean. Or maybe it was a dust bunny. Regardless, there they were. “The baby appears to be healthy. You appear to be eight weeks along so still in your first trimester.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Nikki uncharacteristically blurts out. 

“It’s too soon to tell. That’s for the 16-week appointment.” Nikki nods, you catch something on his face, disappointment maybe. You all discuss the future appointment before the doctor leaves and it is just you and Nikki. As the door closes, you remember what he did.

“Where the hell were you?” 

“Rehearsal ran longer than I thought it would and-” 

“That’s not an excuse.” You say curtly, and he knows you’re right.

“I know.” And at that, the conversation was over. Something about him feels different today and you could not help but stare. When he looked back at you, you looked away. 

“You could come to a rehearsal at some point if you want to hear what’s going on.” You pause. Maybe it was good to see what your baby daddy was doing.

“Ok.” He smirks.

“We’re meeting tomorrow around 4:00, I’ll pick you up.”

“I can’t wait.” You let it slip out before you can block the words. You flush and begin to readjust yourself. 

“I won’t be late this time,” You look up, “I promise.”

[gfpt-comic]

Hi, I just wanted to hear about if you are still working on this comic? From finding out that you have made it two years ago. I just wanted to make sure, because I like this comic a lot with doing this body swap. But yeah, I am only asking you here of course if you want to answer ok. It's also very nice to meet you. ^^

(ok so I made an EXTREMELY LONG POST and Tumblr ate it so I am now very upset because I talked about a LOT of stuff and now I must find in me the energy to write it all over again ;-; )

I originally answered with a grateful-sorta-bittersweet tone and talked about a lot of stuff, but since everything I said during the past hour or so is now lost forever to the void I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the same tone... Please bear with me for being too concise this time, that’s really not how the original answer was written :’)

First off, thanks for your message, and despite the fact that the comic is indeed pretty much abandoned, I’m still happy you could at least have a good time for a while during your read. It’s more my problem really for being the type of artist who can’t stay focused on one thing and whose imagination is so wild, I’ll end up creating tons of stories so long and complex that I can rarely ever finish them -- most often I force myself not to look into new stuff just because I’m too scared of getting involved in yet another fandom and getting inspired for yet another story I will never have the time or energy to finish (the will to finish it is always there, although it’s usually more for the sake of my readers rather than because I’m really 100% invested in the story itself by then).

I have multiple still ongoing projects, and Pythagorean Thoughts is the oldest of them... as well as the one for which my notes are the most vague and lacking. Take my Undertale fanfic, Learn When to Quit-- even if I won’t be able to finish it either (it’s just WAY too hard to write, so even if I were to write the rest in fanfic form it wouldn’t have the same quality as the first 13 chapters, so to me it wouldn’t count anyway), the notes I have for it are so detailed, everything from chapter 1 up until chapter ~80 is set in stone, give or take a few details that may show up at the last minute upon writing; there’s, like, only 3-5 chapters that are still “time passes before chapter 74 so just make up some filler-y stuff here.”

Pythagorean Thoughts on the other hand... Well, thing is, the script is very detailed for everything that happens before the comic starts. But for the stuff that happens after...? Well, I do have plot points, important scenes that I want to draw, random jokes and punchlines that I want to include here and there, but when you compare with LWtQ, it’s more like “the important stuff happens on July 12, July 13, July 14, July 16, perhaps July 18, then it jumps to July 31, and then it jumps to the end of the summer. Make as many filler episodes as you can because making ellipses over more than a week’s worth of time doesn’t look good when the purpose of the story is to show the characters’ development over time, step by step.” So... yeah, it’s a bit of a problem when you run out of inspiration and the many, many ideas you do have already are just so all over the place, you can’t use them to create a list of precise plots before the end of the day arrives and you feel terrible for having wasted your precious almost-PhD-student time (technically my PhD starts tomorrow, but it just means that I’ll have even less free time than I used to).

Admittedly, my current Hollow Knight comic (posted on my main blog, @lutiaskokopelli​) is just as all over the place as Pythagorean Thoughts is... except 1) it’s inspired by a walkthrough for which I have a list of notes with set-in-stone events, in which every noteworthy detail is already written (not to mention that I also have many plot-relevant ideas for future scenes as well); and 2) it also counts as an ask blog, which means that the constant flood of asks I get is a constant source of inputs for me to use -- I basically just have to write the characters’ answers to the asks while the story progresses, which is much easier than just making up everything on the spot from start to finish. In a way, the readers/askers make 50% of the plot in my stead.

Not gonna lie... In the previous answer that got eaten up by Tumblr (yes, I’m still salty), I had started a list of what the major plot points for the comic were supposed to be, up until it started becoming a huge wall of text. I’ve been wanting to write a real summary of the script for a very long time, but I could never find a way to write it in the way I wanted it to, so... I guess it’ll just have to be a messy list of plot points, trivia, and random ideas I wanted to include in the comic. It’s not gonna be nearly as good as reading a finished product, but... That’s kinda all I have, I’m afraid-- and, well, I don’t even have it yet, since it has yet to be written. I’ll try to brute-force my way through it in another post, given how I was already doing it before Tumblr trolled me.

All that being said... I’m really sorry for not being able to finish my stuff. I have made a point of finishing my Hollow Knight comic no matter what (just to prove to myself that I can finish a story for real), but that doesn’t mean much regarding my other projects, sadly. Once again, I thank you for your kind comment, and I hope the next post will be compensation enough... despite its likely messiness. Please bear with me, it’s either posting something complete but messy or never posting anything at all because of my crippling perfectionism.

[itsblissfuloblivion]

metanoia

A/N: surprise holiday gift from @gryffindormischief & @fightfortherightsofhouseelves.  Hinny Muggle Modern AU for your reading pleasure :)

FF and Ao3

_____

Honestly, if Sirius wasn’t the estate lawyer for Mrs. Figg, Harry probably never would’ve known about the shop. About his shop.

Because Mrs. Figg loved two things - cats and pizza. And apparently thought Harry should too.

It just so happens Harry’s most recent assignment has wrapped up - with a significant number of deranged menaces to society locked away. Though not enough. Harry has been victim to the knowledge of just how horrible a human can be since he could barely spell his full name.

And now, just about thirty years later, he’s bagged his fair share of serial killers - including the one that started it all. At least for him. He’s studied, tracked, and caught them with an endless supply of motivation. Motivation that Sirius has on more than one occasion called an ‘obsession’ or ‘avoidance.’

Harry likes to think of it as a positive outcome from a highly traumatic childhood. And saying it that way makes him sound like a well adjusted adult so he sticks with it.

Though in the privacy of his own mind, it sounds less and less true with each passing day.

Which is probably why the shop feels like a set up. A glass half full type might say kismet or destiny, but again, childhood trauma and possible suppression of feelings.

Sirius sighs. “You were rabbit trailing.”

Harry grunts. “Was not.”

“Tell me what I just said.”

“Pizza shop.”

“You are a terrible godson.”

“No family discount for you,” Harry says with a grin, swirling his coffee.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius resumes his explanation. “Arabella loved you in her own strange way and this is her even stranger way of showing it.”

“But - why ? I said I liked her pizza. But she literally has a photo wall of her herd of cats - do I look like someone who wants to stare at that all day?”

Sirius fiddles with his empty Splenda packet, tearing it to bits and sighing a little. And when he does speak it’s not really an answer. “They would want you to be happy.”

Harry blinks.

“Your parents.”

“I gathered.”

A herd of teenagers bustle into the coffee shop, bringing an icy wind and puddling rain with them. Harry really hasn’t missed London’s general greyness. Psychotic murdering crime syndicate aside, Majorca was warm and sunny .

“I’m good at it, Sirius,” Harry says after a moment, “Protecting people, catching killers, don’t I owe it to them, to everyone, to keep going?”

“Don’t let that arsehole steal your whole life - you got justice,” Sirius frowns, “However much you could, that is. You don’t owe anyone, any of us.”

Harry’s quiet a moment. “Well I guess we should go take a look at my new shop.”

The first red flag really should’ve gone up when Sirius told Harry the walkthrough could wait. When he coaxed Harry into taking a post-travel nap . Then he makes his chicken alfredo pasta bake for supper and pours him a large glass of chardonnay, which was when Harry began to feel suspicious. But, just as Sirius wanted, Harry’s too pliant with rich food and heady wine to question it and ends up falling asleep without even realizing.

Yet, when he wakes, he is in pajamas and tucked in bed, mouth a bit stale. Apparently Sirius draws the line in his babying at toothbrushing. It’s just after one in the afternoon and Harry would bet fifty quid Sirius is currently the person buzzing his mobile off the bedside table.

Harry swipes his thumb across the screen and presses the phone to his face.

“Wake up lazy bones.”

“You’re the one who plied me with wine and pasta.”

Sirius’ laugh is a huff. “You’re such a lightweight.”

Harry flops back on the bed and sighs. “Ever hear of jet lag?”

“Nobody likes a whiner.”

There’s some grumbling on Harry’s end and some grouchy barking on Sirius’ end and after what Harry will fully own as whining, he agrees to a greasy breakfast and a tour of his new acquisition right off.

Halfway through his third slice of bacon - deliciously crispy and oily - Harry glances at a mysteriously quiet Sirius. “So what is it?”

“What is what?”

“The catch, the surprise, the thing you’re going to ruin my breakfast with,” Harry answers around the rim of his coffee cup.

“Breakfast? It’s well past two. Don’t know how things are on the continent but - ”

“Breakfast is the first meal of the day,” Harry asserts, “Now answer.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Eat your breakfast .”

Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, Harry lets the issue drop with a lingering look. Or at least on the surface. Internally, he’s still in full Inspector Mode and highly suspicious of every glance Sirius gives him and every word he says.

But odd as his godfather’s behavior is, it’s not particularly helpful in any information gathering sense. Which isn’t to say it’s not a nice meal. Clinical as Harry may paint himself at times, workaholic though he can be, he loves his godfather and getting caught up doesn’t take twisting his arm.

So yes, he drops the issue for a time, but by the time they’re walking down to Arabella’s, Harry can’t resist any longer. “Don’t you think you should give me fair warning for whatever I’m about to encounter?”

“Since when do I do things like give fair warnings?”

Sirius pushes the door open, overhead bell ringing their entry, and shepherds Harry inside.

Distracted as he is by the display of gallantry, Harry takes a moment to zero in on the figure behind the counter. And when he does, everything clicks together.

His voice is a low hiss, “What the hell, Sirius?”

“Didn’t I mention?”

“You have problems,” Harry grumbles, low enough that hopefully their conversation remains private , “I officially fire you as my godfather.”

Sirius straightens his Santa-themed scarf, jauntily tossed over his shoulder and a bit at odds with the punk vibe of his leather jacket. All of which is at odds with his profession but that’s an issue for another time. A time when Harry’s not less than four paces away from his not-so-secret celebrity crush. Ginny Weasley, star striker for the Holyhead Harpies.

A crush that is complicated all the more by the fact that she’s also his best mate’s sister whom he has not seen since they were almost something. Back when he was a dumb teenager with an axe to grind and entirely too much angst for his awkward green bean-esque body.

“You can’t fire me. It’s outside the scope of your authority.”

“I’ll - ”

Harry loses whatever he was about to say to the ether, well that and Ginny’s eyes as her attention shifts from her final customer to the new entrants. Her patented customer service smile slips into place and she’s halfway through her welcome when her eyes light in recognition. “Harry! Sirius. I wish you’d warned me.”

Ruffling his hair, Harry manages to steel himself and wander closer. “Sirius doesn’t do warnings.”

Ginny nudges the register closed and passes the customer the receipt once it’s printed. “Yeah, I guess that checks out. So we’re business partners now, yeah?”

Harry leans against the counter, taking in the half-full shop, Arabella’s catered shrine to her cats. Which reminds him. “What about the cats? We’re not - ”

Grinning, Ginny tilts her head toward the empty barstools and pours a few sodas. “That was my first question. We are not feline parents.”

Sirius nods. “Arabella had a lady in her quilting group - she’s a cat lover. Took the lot.”

“How will all this fit in - aren’t you busy?” Harry asks, turning his attention to Ginny.

She shrugs. “Somebody’s #1 fan status is in danger, I am officially retired.”

“Shite I - injury?”

“Nah, just felt like time. I’m not getting any younger - in sports years - and I’d rather go out on top than limping if I can help it,” Ginny explains, “On top and in love. The magic was still there but I could feel it fading.”

“Time for a new dream, eh?” Sirius puts in.

“Someone’s been watching too much telly with Teddy,” Harry teases and glances sidelong at Ginny, whose cheeks are a bit flushed, “My godson is quite the fan of Rapunzel.”

Ginny chuckles. “I learned that on very long afternoon of babysitting Victoire and Ted.”

The conversation peters out and they linger a bit uncomfortably until the chef passes a couple of pizzas through to Ginny. With a spared smile for her companions, she grabs the two pies and heads into the dining area to deliver the orders.

Harry can’t help but watch as she turns on the charm, poses for a selfie with a nervous looking little tween at the table, and heads back their way.

Sirius nudges Harry’s arm. “Nice surprise, eh?”

Things pick up at the shop, so Sirius orders a vegetable laden pizza to go and blusters about something important he’s just got to do and disappears as soon as his pie is ready.

Leaving Harry to feel awkward and out of place, not sure he can leave and even less sure he can stay. The latter more a thing about sanity.

He might not be a huge ‘be open about your feelings’ person but Harry’s at least somewhat self aware. And Ginny Weasley, cheeky and fit as ever, wielding the power vested in her as a co-owner of a pizza shop like a queen with a very doughy throne - well it’s not good for his state of mind.

The last forty-eight hours have been highly confusing and unexpected and Harry really feels he’s handled things with admirable elegance considering the post-assignment haze he generally experiences coupled with the usual jet-lag. Well he’s a bit out of it and that means his already low ability to filter and process emotions is severely impeded.

All of which leads Harry to feel he should be cut some slack for his awkward exit - chosen at a time where he can’t do more than offer Ginny a passing wave and earn narrowed eyes in return.

So when he finds himself off the clock two days later and somehow standing in front of Arabella’s, Harry’s really not sure it’s a good idea. Or even what the idea is.

It’s late, yesterday’s snow already either shuffled to the side by plows or trampled by Londoners tramping through the streets, and Harry’s simultaneously hungry and too terrified to be so.

Because if Ginny Weasley’s angry at eight and a half because he and Ron put snails in her sock drawer was terrifying, Harry can only imagine he’s in for a dangerous evening.

The overhead bell beckons his entry and Ginny’s voice calls from the back, “Just a sec - we’re actually - “ she pauses wiping her hands on her apron as she emerges from the kitchen, “Closed.”

“Is it ever closed for me ?” Harry asks.

Ginny scowls. “Dunno we haven’t really discussed any of this, have we?”

“I-”

“You’re not starting off as a particularly enjoyable business partner.”

“It’s been less than a week, give a bloke a break, yeah?” Harry defends, twisting the lock on the door and claiming a seat at the counter.

Ginny pins him with her stare. “If you’re going to hang about after closing, help me clean up.”

Harry accepts the rag she tosses at his chest and follows her minimal, and gradually less angry, instructions. It’s congenial, and Harry finds himself beginning to relax like he hasn’t - maybe ever. At least not without the aid of some sort of sleep-inducing medication or a couple shots of whiskey in his system.

And somehow, Ginny manages to pull him out of himself, her easy chatter draws him in and somehow he finds himself making it more of a conversation. Hell, he’s having a good time and Harry would want to thank Mrs. Figg if he wasn’t still just a little ticked at being manipulated and at the fact that an octogenarian knew his interests better than he did.

Regardless, he returns most nights, sometimes after a day off, sometimes after a long shift he just wants to forget.

Ginny’s always there delivering a cheeky rejoinder or a prod to his shoulder when he’s ‘not putting in enough elbow grease’ scrubbing the dishes. And sometimes, he begins to hope, her teasing gets just a tinge of flirtatiousness.

After a month, Harry finally asks, “So you’re here alone?”

“ That’s not something a serial murderer would say,” Ginny says with a smirk, refilling another napkin holder.

“No, I mean, for closing.”

Surprisingly, Ginny flushes a bit, her voice only wavering a bit as she begins to speak before strengthening as she squares her jaw, daring him to comment. “Well, that first night, my - our - help called in sick. And then eventually you were so regular I figured why make Francis stay and pay someone when we handled it fine enough.”

“So you’re taking advantage of my free labor.”

“Hardly free partner ,” Ginny teases, filling another holder.

Harry laughs and the shop falls into silence as they go through the motions of closing, now something of a choreographed dance between them.

It’s comfortable and yet Harry feels a weight on him, words running up his throat from somewhere he’s not even really conscious of. Repressing it begins to feel pointless - why wouldn’t he just say it? What’s the harm? Part of him wonders at his trust of Ginny after only a month, but it’s really longer than that, when he thinks about it. And if he spends one more day of his life living in constant apprehension of betrayal, of someone else leaving him or letting him down - maybe Sirius was right.

Bastard.

“Ginny?”

She rises from her crouch behind the counter, ponytail askew and a slash of flour across her cheek, hiding her freckles in a dusting of powder. “Yes?”

“Did you ever - how did you know when to retire?”

Ginny pushes flyaways from her face and disappears into the kitchen, which is really not a particularly fun reaction to receive after finally drumming up courage to ask. But she returns soon enough with a few mismatched slices of pie. “We can eat the mistakes - or the rejects I suppose - and have a chat,” Ginny smiles and gestures to one of the tables without the chairs stacked, “Grab a seat.”

Harry does as she instructs and sighs. It had been a long day, more death, more horror, more of the worst of humanity. If he’s honest, which is something Harry’s really working on, it feels like that’s all his life is. Arabella’s is an escape of sorts. And Ginny is - something else entirely.

“So my retirement? You’re not investigating me for some murder, right?” Ginny asks, pulling a slice from the tray and biting into it with a sigh, “We make good pizza.”

“No, I - I’ve just been thinking,” Harry fiddles with his napkin and finally selects a slice of pizza absently, heedless of the mushrooms he really doesn’t like. Maybe the fidgety nature of pulling them from the pie will calm his nerves. “I’ve been realizing maybe I’m not happy.”

Ginny raises her brows but doesn’t interrupt as he continues, “Before I felt like I had a purpose, a reason to be doing what I was doing. Beyond just being good at it.”

“Even after?”

“Yeah - I felt a pull even after we caught Riddle, like my work wasn’t finished,” Harry answers, thoughtful, “But lately it feels more like a placeholder, like I’m just doing it to do it.”

“You’re unhappy.”

“I mean - it feels odd to say it ever made me happy ,” Harry laughs, dry, “But I was fulfilled in a strange way, had a purpose, you know?”

Ginny shakes some red pepper flakes onto her pizza and considers him for a moment, her eyes softened, before she responds. “My career wasn’t the same as yours, but I think you know when it’s time for a change. Even if you don’t want to see it. Even when it’s scary to see. You invest your life, you devote everything to being the best. It feels mad to leave it all behind.”

“And yet you did.”

She scoots her chair closer and leans her head onto his shoulder, like they’re meant to slot together. “Isn’t it madder to leave things the same and stay unhappy?”

The shop looks different by daylight, Harry notices. Less intimate. And it’s odd too. He’s never been in a shop completely alone during the day. Or really at all, since his nights spent at Arabella’s are never without Ginny except when he takes the rubbish out.

Dull considerations like the oddity of sitting alone are all he has to keep his mind busy, to prevent himself from bouncing around with wild energy or calling and taking everything back.

But he’s not one for backpedalling, especially when he’s spent so much time and energy in moving forward.

And yet, it feels like a part of him is missing. But instead of the fear of a phantom limb, he feels weightless, like he’s thrown away everything holding him back.

Back from what, he’s not really examining too closely, so for now - well it’s -

The door opens with a ring of the bell and Ginny’s low, warbling hums reach him in the dining area. “Alright Gin?”

“Fu- ” Ginny drops her keys and grumbles, “You scared me, arsehole.”

“I tried not to.”

“Sure,” Ginny drawls, “Now what are you doing here? Please don’t tell me someone was murdered in our kitchen.”

Harry laughs and nearly chokes on his tongue when Ginny presses a kiss to his cheek. “Nah, I’m on holiday.”

“And you’re here.”

“I heard this place has the best garlic knots,” Harry says, following Ginny as she moves toward the combination supply closet and back office.

“Surprised you know how to find this place in daylight,” Ginny teases, jabbing her elbow into his side.

“Arabella’s cats are a bit creepier in the full light.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ginny says, wry, “I think Gingersnap’s eyes follow me.”

“Did you ever ask why a black cat was named Gingersnap,” Harry asks as Ginny opens the safe and pulls the register tray free.

“Maybe Arabella was so bad at making ‘em they always burnt.”

Harry laughs and in the privacy of his mind admits he follows Ginny around like a lost puppy as she preps for the day. So he’s pretty close behind when she turns and tosses a pinny in his face. “If you’re going to hang about at least pull your weight.”

“Where’s Franny?”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“I just worry after the wellbeing of those in my employ.”

Ginny scoffs. “She’s on holiday from uni, went home to Kent.”

“Just in time to miss London’s lovely Grey Christmas,” Harry laughs, wrapping the apron strings around his middle and glancing out at the looming clouds overhead, the puddle riddled streets.

“Posh boy used to wintering in exotic locales, can’t handle a good ol’ fashioned London winter,” Ginny teases, “Keep your complaining inside and pitch in, put that fit body to good use.”

Shoving Ginny’s shoulder, Harry disappears into the kitchen and begins checking the prepped dough and running down Ginny’s list of morning tasks.

He’s just finished warming up the espresso machine when Ginny returns from her paperwork in the back room. Their gazes lock for a moment and Harry feels like he’s been caught out at something, not that he was even doing anything. Except perhaps daydreaming a bit about Ginny returning his sad secret feelings and ending their usual teasing banter with snogs instead of flicks to the nose.

But it seems Ginny is not clairvoyant, or at least not owning it quite yet when she says, “S’nice having you around. I actually get paperwork done before eleven at night.”

“Well,” Harry takes a deep breath and ruffles his hair, “Get used to it.”

“Get used to - ” Ginny narrows her eyes and steps closer, “Why?”

“I had a lot of vacation time saved up,” Harry begins, focusing acutely on the grinder, “And I wrapped that case - the human trafficking one,” Ginny nods her understanding and Harry continues, “And so I called in my days and uh. I gave notice.”

She gapes. “You - ”

He puffs out his chest, feeling accomplished at rendering Ginny nearly speechless, “Done. I’m out. That was my last one. Just a few exit interviews after the New Year and then, adios.”

Ginny considers him for a moment, unreadable as she almost seems to reach for him, and then shakes her head. “You’re such a stalker.”

“Excuse me?” Harry yelps with a grin, pressing his palm to his chest.

“Everyone knows you were a Ginny Weasley super fan,” Ginny raises one finger, “And that you had a thing for me back before uni,” Harry flushes as she plows ahead, “Add in the fact that your godfather orchestrated this little ‘surprise’ partnership,” she shakes her head, “You’ve probably been collecting my hair for a doll at your flat.”

“Excuse me, it’s a puppet.”

“How’s my godson slash entrepreneur?” Sirius barks as he pushes the front door open with his hips.

“Working like a dog, paying for any sins I may have ever committed,” Harry growls, hands elbow deep into dough.

Sirius scans him head to toe with an ever-growing smirk, “You’re welcome.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot high up into his hairline, fists already constricting around the piece of dough he’d been working on. If there’s ever anyone’s fault for what he’s been feeling over the past weeks, the tension and frustration battling in his chest, in his mind, ready to explode in his face the next time she smiles or says something cheeky or simply exists in his presence.

“Don’t start making faces,” Sirius points a finger at him as Harry’s on the verge of snapping back, “I know you when you’re happy. I changed your nappies, don’t you forget that you ungrateful godson of mine.”

And to that Harry doesn’t have much to say. Sirius is right, as much as Harry’d like to deny it.

“So you quit,” Sirius plows on after a pause.

Harry takes a moment then shrugs, “Yeah, it was time, I guess.”

“Good for you. And now - how are things?”

“What do you mean?”

Sirius quickly looks at Ginny absorbed by paperwork and winks, grin, and ultimately nudges Harry.

Harry’d like to send dough spiralling at his godfather’s head.

He’d like that very much indeed.

“There’s nothing there, Sirius,” he mutters.

“Aha,” Sirius snorts. “Then tell me this: if you’re not fueled by sexual frustration right now then why are you groping and playing with that roll of dough like it’s something else?”

Harry feels himself go scarlett, blood boiling in his ears.

“Out. Now.”

“Don’t I get a pizza for my efforts?” Sirius grins.

“Out before I kick you,” Harry barks, wipes his hands on a piece of cloth, ready to take his godfather by the collar before he mocks him even further.

No one pushes his buttons quite like family.

“What about my family discount?”

There’s a freshly baked pizza sliding down the front door as Sirius leaves in a fit of pleased laughter, Harry fuming on the other side of the shop.

“Should I ask?” Ginny raises her head from around the stack of papers, eyebrows raised, pen in her mouth.

“No,” Harry says, clipped, and marches back to his station.

Naturally, they thought hanging a Buy one, get one free sign on their door would be splendid for their business and any small business owner’s drive to build a faithful community around their shop.

It proves, however, that as great this move is for their business, it is also horrid for their poor wrists, as they hurt after rolling pizza after pizza, for their cheeks (Harry fears that fake smiling 24/7 might give him a paresis), and, if everyone’s being fair, for their mental health and general libido levels. It should be noted that tension, as well as flour, can be cut with a knife.

“Think we should hire help?” Harry asks after the upteenth time he coughs on flour.

A relieved sigh, “Thought you’d never ask. We definitely need one of those people that can naturally smile non-stop, know what I mean? Because if I have to grin like a loon for one more customer, I’m officially out.”

Harry scans her closely and pouts a little.

“Would you really?”

“Would I what?”

“You know, leave me?”

She doesn’t spare him a glance, fully concentrated on adding extra cheesy on an already cheesy pizza.

“Are we together now, Potter?”

“Let’s not hide behind those floury fingers, Weasley, I saw you checking out my arse,” Harry huffs, watching her curiously out of the corner of his eye.

Ginny laughs wholeheartedly for a beat, cheese and pizza forgotten.

“Harry, Harry, if that’s how easy it is for a girl to get you, then you must’ve had a million relationships because that bum is super tight.”

Harry feels himself blush, chest warming on the inside.

“So’s - erm, so’s yours.”

“Well, if we’re doing this,” Ginny grins cheekily, “so are your eyes.”

It’s Harry’s turn to grin, he’s very pleased.

“My eyes are tight?”

“Don’t be a prick. Your eyes are pretty,” she sticks out her tongue at him, resuming her pizza making.

A pause, tense and vibrant.

“So is your hair. And your freckles. And the way you look when you’ve got your mind set on something,” Harry mumbles at first but manages to finish in a more confident note, eyeing her from behind his round specs.

Ginny takes a moment for herself, rubs her nose then turns around to look at Harry with the very look he mentioned. That hard, blazing look that starts a fire within him and sends his thoughts twisting and turning into dangerous places.

“Your messy hair, your little smirk when you’re pleased with yourself. You.”

Harry’s completely forgotten about customers trundling in, orders upon orders to be delivered or anything else for that matter. All he has the wit to say is a feeble “oh.”

A wall of tension thickens and threatens to crush them, each staring at the other, each holding their position, feet firmly on the ground, cheeks flushed and hearts beating wildly.

“It’s hot in here,” Ginny remarks, dry.

“Yeah. I know.”

“So bloody hot,” she speaks again, still yet daring.

Harry can hear himself breathe hard, “The - uh, ovens.”

A minute passes and, as it drags its heavy legs to the finish line, Harry hears rather than sees Ginny laugh a bit to herself, throw away the piece of cloth she used to clean her hands and stride over to him.

“Yeah, I can’t handle it. Thought I could, but I can’t,” Ginny sighs and informs the room at large.

“So why are you unbuttoning my shirt?” Harry manages to underline before his brain explodes at the touch of her smooth fingers over the skin of his chest.

“Helping?”

She’s undeterred as she speaks, rather absently while her fingers work every button, one after the other until his shirt lays open and their gazes lock.

Harry barks a laugh, “Try again?”

“You’ve got a spot,” Ginny shrugs, fingers mapping the length of his chest.

Harry closes his eyes, draws in a breath. He lets it out in a shudder.

“So’ve you.”

There’s barely a second between his words and the moment Ginny’s legs lock around him, his hands supporting her on the table top, they’re mouths kissing hard and fast. Kissing, licking, grazing, biting in a tangle of hair and flour and pizza everywhere.

Harry’d like to say something clever and sassy but he’d like to keep kissing Ginny even more. And more. And more until her tongue is in his mouth and her palms moving in circles on his bare chest and his fingers knotted in her ginger hair.

He feels they’re melting into each other, limbs glued together like mold, fire blazing, scorching.

It’s more than any of them can take.

“Move this elsewhere?” Ginny gasps between kisses.

“Do we really have to?” Harry breathes, pants.

“Unless you wanna risk a citation from the Health Department,” she giggles into his ears, giggles that turn into full on laughter when he lifts her in the air, carries her into the pantry, locks the door.

Laughter that turns into moaning when their lips meet again behind closed doors.

[kcostanz]

disclaimer: I’m going to be existential & sad before I turn it around

As 2020 wraps, I find myself increasingly absorbed by understanding the practices that I’m newly drawn to. The things I’ve chosen to connect with to get through what has certainly been the most unexpected year of my life, and perhaps that of billions of others. Even making such a grand statement still boggles my mind. Taking a moment to step outside of my life to acknowledge this global reality always gives much needed perspective. Life has been altered in wholly unforeseeable ways for billions of people this year. 

Exactly how our lives and worlds have been reshaped certainly looks different for each and every one of us. Our realities are constructed by so much: where we live, who we live with, what we do each day, our job, or the roles we play in society as a whole. Every life looks different, but the pandemic’s impact on these answers (and many more) is ever-changing and harshly felt. 

Reflecting on my own journey that has been navigating covid-19 and its impact on the world centers upon my age. Being 22 years old right now feels like constantly being stuck at a major life inflection point. In many ways I’m at the height of decision making- important ones at that, that will guide (the beginnings of) the rest of my life. Existential and perhaps a bit dramatic I know, but the pandemic exacerbates these emotions, so throw me a bone. 

I spent the first 21 years of my life on a set path, a regulated track that unknowingly provided an absurd amount of comfort. I went to public school K-12, graduated high school, and attended a 4-year institution, long awaiting the fantastical graduation year that for so long existed as a far-off fantasy: 2020. 

That momentous final semester was different than expected, but I can’t complain. I spent the last 3 months of college with a small handful of my closest friends, attended classes from the comfort of my bed, and graduated in my tiny apartment with two of my closest friends who hung around until the end. 

I procrastinated packing and cleaning my apartment until the last possible moment as my disapproving landlord approached to conduct the final walkthrough. Unsurprisingly, I left with a fraction of the security deposit, and the hard learned lesson that expo marker writing does not always come out of refrigerators (as the All Purpose spray, Oxi-Clean, bleach, hot water, soap, and eventually, shamefully, white paint can attest). 

With a egregiously packed car and zero rear view visibility, I was off. I blasted oldies with a twinge of liberation- I think I recall Born to Run (don’t worry, I am indeed embarrassed). I left all four windows down until I could no longer stand the sound of garbage bags flapping. Five short hours later I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home in Rochester, NY (with a broken mirror in the trunk no less- unsure if I’m superstitious but it felt like bad luck). 

The latter half of 2020- from June until now, has been full of unknowns, decision making in the dark, and hard fought self motivation. Vivid mixes of emotions old and new. 

First the dread of moving back in with parents as a young adult, and the stubborn resistance to fully unpack, so as to not get “too comfortable” at home. I now know such a thing is impossible for many reasons, one being that regardless of the lighting, art, and design, the girly pink walls of my childhood bedroom have proven immutable. 

Following this initial shock were extreme levels of self-induced pressure to find a job, do nothing but apply to jobs, and then bask in dejected feelings of never being able to get a job. While in the process, fully isolating myself from others, because I simultaneously felt I had too much to do, but yet was never really doing a thing. That concept has been fun to sit with. It comes with the realization that the carefree bliss of not having a single thing to do- say for a month long winter break- is officially gone. The list of things you could (and probably should) be doing is endless- welcome to the real world, Kate!

August was a blessed, beautiful month that, at the risk of (again) sounding dramatic, I am eternally grateful for. During this sweltering month I lived out of a car for nearly 3 weeks, camping with two pals throughout Utah and Wyoming. Even hitting a deer at 9pm, in a no-cell service zone, in the middle of a State Forest in Wyoming was a welcomed adventure at this point. A broken transmission, impromptu camping, two-hour tow truck ride, countless insurance calls, hostile car dealership conversations, two rental cars later, and we were back on track. This (incomplete) list of challenges provided beautiful life experience however, imparting lessons I could never fully know until I lived them. 

Returning home was as expected, a difficult transition back to monotony. Did I apply to vineyard jobs vaguely “out west?” Absolutely. Did I have it in me to go through with such a spontaneous life choice? Unfortunately not, though to my credit I did realize important goals that stood in the way of a dreamy vagabond existence. 

The fall has been a blur, and now there’s snow on the ground. I’ve found myself living for the future, and rarely ever for the moment, which is entirely antithetical to my personal philosophy. I have proclaimed my personal soundtrack to 2020 to be the loop of traditional Lebanese music that plays on repeat at my job as a server at Sinbad’s Mediterranean Cuisine (now as a takeout extraordinaire. And yes, despite the lack of in-person customers we are indeed instructed to play the CDs as per usual). This work, or my role as a part-time nanny is far from fulfilling (though the kids are darn cute), but that’s not the point for now. “At least I’m saving!” has been my most reliable source of positive encouragement, nearing personal mantra. 

I write this from my childhood bedroom, sitting at my desk, which was once our kitchen table circa 2002. It is as wobbly as it is sentimental, and I love it. The desk faces a window, the sill littered with glassware and candles because I have a thing against artificial light. I have a total of five notebooks, half opened, each containing swirling levels of thoughts, drawings, organization, calendars and to do lists. An orange caricature of a topless french woman sunbathing sits in front of me, reminding me that “TOUT VA BIEN!” (that everything is fine). And in minutes I will be dancing to the Moana soundtrack or drawing christmas trees and unicorns with 3 and 4 year olds. A snapshot of my life, at 22 years old, in 2020. 

Despite my life not being what I expected, or what I wanted it to look like as I embark on what’s supposed to be the most adventurous, spontaneous, and simply well-lived decade of my life, it is what it is, and as the french lady says, everything is fine. I have two part-time jobs, unforeseen savings, quality family time (both for better and for worse), my mom’s cooking, and a roof over my head. In a world with inconceivably high death tolls, rising unemployment and homelessness rates, and the constant, precarious fear of general loss, I have infinite blessings to count.

Life does feel like a giant waiting game though. How can one strategically plan out what comes next in their individual life when the entire world remains a massive question mark? In a time when we feel trapped, impatiently waiting for opportunities, experiences, and adventures to reopen, waiting feels hopeless. Because it is. If you’re unhappy with the opportunities before you, create your own.

I’m not saying I’m doing a stellar job at this myself- and as you can see I certainly struggle with my fair share of existential pessimism (day in and day out). But doing things has a certain electrifying feel that ignites and empowers you to build a meaningful life. I’m producing a web series with a group of similarly listless 20 somethings who are also doing their best to be creative and productive from the confines of their family homes. I’m practicing yoga and meditation really to cope with my own stress and internal anxieties, but in doing so am creating new habits and mindsets that will certainly outlast the pandemic. I’ve connected with a group of strangers by dancing to shamantic and electronica music in various outdoor locations throughout Rochester. Whoa! Never would I have imagined finding such deeply liberating peace through ecstatic dance of all things, but hey 2020 is full of surprises. 

This position I’m in is both uniquely my own through my personal experiences, and also shared by more people than I could imagine. Maybe only bits and pieces resonate with you, or maybe you are living your best life in the city of your dreams with a fabulous career in a lovely home with the world’s best roommates. But even if that’s you- you’re missing out on something too. The whole world is. We feel disconnected, disjointed, digitally controlled and consumed, and despite who we surround ourselves with- isolated. We’re stuck living in a world of “once this is over I’ll….” and no matter who you are it feels damn weird to spend so much time in your head dreaming of a future rather than living it out in the now. 

So… solutions? As we all know, you only have so much control during a global pandemic (very little to be exact). But what you can control is how you live your life during it. I certainly won’t preach to what works and pretend like I’ve figured it out- that work is no one’s to do but your own. But I do feel that so much comes down to mindset, perspective, mental health and ultimately finding ways to seek inner peace. 

Potential solutions are abundant, and have been explored by more people now than ever before. Though there is no recipe to conquer the inevitable fears, concerns and anxieties that accompany the pandemic and this phase of life, I’m interested in further exploring some of the ones that work for me. How is something as simple as breathing so helpful? 

Finding inner peace is a sought after skill in 2020. I have endless gratitude to all of the incredible humans who have served as a source of learning, and have helped me to tap into positive internal energy. My intention is to look into some of the causes of (my personal) covid-realted inner turmoil and the solutions that have brought some serenity into my life. Though they may not always be long lasting, some answers are better than none. Here’s to writing for no one, and thank you for listening. <3 

[shirorozutriea]

Experienced a Loss, but dared to Confront it

I don't know how would you guys react to a certain OOC here. I hope you don't mind it. This is an AU, so yes, there's bound to be OOCs, I hope you would still like it nonetheless. Day 5: Loss

Months have passed since the beginning of our beloved couple's relationship bloom. The two will admit that that day was the best thing that happened in their life. And so far so good, everything is all happy and fine. No drama, no angsty walkthroughs, no fights except for the countless of debates of who's the most wonderful girlfriend.

 “O Romeo, Romeo, where art thou, Romeo—again why?” Asked Yang looking Weiss.

 “Why what?” Said Weiss tapping at her laptop.

 “Why Romeo and Juliet?” Asked Yang. “I get that its classical and it's made by William Shakespeare.”

 “I just happen to relate with the main heroine.” Shrugged Weiss.

 Blake picked up the book and scanned it. “Juliet Capulet.”

 Weiss nodded without looking away from her laptop. “Yes. Lady Capulet.”

 Blake gave her a look.

 “But why? Juliet is like, blinded? Or something like that.” Said Yang, looking incredulous.

 “Blinded?” Asked Weiss and Blake, blinking at her.

 “Yeah. Blinded by love. Y’know, falling for Romeo at first sight and then agreed to marry the guy despite the short time they knew each other. Like, that's ridiculous. Seriously.” Frowned Yang.

 Weiss blinked.

 “I didn't know you read Romeo and Juliet?” Asked Blake, looking flabbergasted.

 Yang pouted. “Hey! I can read classical too ya know.”

 “Yes, yes. Just surprised.” Chuckled Weiss. Yang continued to pout, which earned a giggle from the two.

 “Where's Ruby anyways?” Asked Yang, looking around for her wonderful gay sister.

 “Bought some cookies.” Replied Weiss.

 Yang laughed. “Ruby and her cookies.”

 “Yes. Just a little bit and I swear she's going to marry those cookies.” Scowled Weiss.

 Yang laughed while Blake snickered.

 “Are you serious? You're jealous on a peace of flour?” Laughed Yang.

 “Aah, young love.” Teased Blake.

 Weiss glared at the two. She then looked at her laptop and frowned.

 “What's with that frown, Weiss?” Chuckled Yang. “You look like you're on the verge of killing someone.”

 Weiss sighed. “As a matter of fact, as much as I want to, I can't. I don't want to be classified as a murderer.”

 “Who is it, Weiss?” Asked Blake, concern etching from her voice.

 “You know. The usual. Father and his persuasive arguments.” Said Weiss. “And—oh no…”

 Weiss face etched into worry and downward horrified. She can feel the cold sweat in every part of her skin, and her eyes began to water. The couple shared a look, before looking at their friend in worry.

 “Weiss.. tell us what's wrong..” Pleaded Yang.

 “He—he knows…” Said Weiss, her breath hitched in horror.

 “He knows what, Weiss?” Frowned Blake as she look at her friend whose in any moment might palpitate.

 “Ruby.. a-and I…” The two gasped.

 “Crap..” Cursed Yang. Blake looked at Weiss and held her hand.

 “Whatever happens, we're here for you, okay?” Said Blake, her ear twitching.

 “Ye-yes.. and he wanted… to-to meet her.” Weiss looked at her friends with a pleading look. “I-I don't know what to do. What if.. what if he hurt her? Oh god..”

 Blake hugged her and shush her, then brushed her hand in her hair in comfort. Yang patted Weiss’s head.

 “Don't worry. We'll be here for you. If you need to fly to Atlas with Ruby, we'll be there. Maybe not directly on the mansion you're going, but nearby, okay?” Assured Yang as she also hug Weiss.

 “Weiss?!”

 They heard Ruby shout from the door as she made her way to her crying and terrified girlfriend.

 Ruby looked at her and kissed her in her forehead and hugged her, whispering to her to help her calm down.

 “Weiss, what happened?” She asked as she wiped her tears.

 “Father.. wants to meet you…” Stuttered Weiss, taking a deep breath. Ruby's face scrunched up in anger as she brushed her hand on her hair.

 “I'll be there to face him.” Said Ruby, lightly growling. Weiss shook her head.

 “I don't want you to get hurt…” She muttered. Ruby raised a brow at this.

 “And you won't? Weiss, I love you, and I swear that I will be right beside you with every step you take.” Declared Ruby as she cupped her lover’s face.

 “Well, looks like we're on board on raiding a Schnee douche.” Grinned Yang, earning a jab from Blake.

 Ruby kissed Weiss’s forehead. “I love you and I will always be here for you.”

 And almost instantly, Weiss relaxed.

***

They were already on air towards Atlas. The skies are bright blue, with clouds ever so gently pass by. The flight towards Atlas was barely bearable, with Weiss constantly fidgeting on her sit with Ruby beside her. Ruby saw how her girlfriend tap her fingers to her knee, which is often displayed when she's anxious or nervous.

 “Weiss, it’s all going to be alright, okay?” Reassured Ruby, holding the latter’s hand entwining them. Weiss only nodded in response and rest her head to her lover's shoulder.

 Ruby brushed the white locks from Weiss’s face. Her eyes are closed and there are visible dark circles under her eyes due to a few sleepless nights before the initial flight to Atlas. Ruby couldn’t help but to worry, not for her sake when she meet the father, but for Weiss’s sake when they meet the father. To Weiss, her father was nothing but a tyrant person and an unloving father. She may had been given her necessities and others, but all with a price. From what she remembered, it was either recitals just to show face or meet the suitors.

 All passengers, please remain sitting for the duration of the flight. The plane will be landing in thirty minutes. Thank you.

 “Hey Rubes, wanna see if I can jump while the plane is landing?” Asked Yang from her right.

 Blake elbowed her girlfriend. “Yang, no.”

 Yang pouted and slouched on the chair, while Ruby giggled at the sight.

 “So, how is Ice Queen?” Asked Yang.

 Ruby's eyes drooped at the question. “Still restless. She's very anxious right now.”

 Yang frowned. “Whatever this bastard did to her, did give her a pretty bad reminder.”

 “And that bastard you're talking about is her father.” Said Blake. Yang face contorted into anger.

 “I still don’t get how a father could treat his child like that.” Grumbled Yang.

 “There’s no perfect fathers. But Jacques is beyond imperfect.” Said Blake, sighing.

 Ruby is very thankful to have a family like them. Aside from her dad, Yang and Blake had been the greatest family she ever had.

 Ruby shook Weiss to wake her up. “Weiss, we're nearly landing.”

 Weiss groaned and her eyes fluttered, showing those beautiful blue pools. Ruby grinned and kissed her forehead.

 “We're here?” Asked Weiss, groggy.

 “I think so.” Said Ruby.

 As if on cue, the speaker blasted off sentences. Along the lines of it are get ready to go down and get your things.

 The four grabbed there bags and head out to the exit, heading outside the airport only to be greeted by cold air.

 “Really? Is winter already the season here?” Asked Yang, rubbing her palms.

 “This is normal in Atlas.” Said Weiss, as if the cold never bothered her in anyway(ELSA!).

 “What are you? Elsa?” Said Yang.

 “I didn’t get the title of Ice Queen for no reason, right Yang?” Smirked Weiss. Yang gasped.

 “She accepted it!” Guffawed Yang.

 Weiss shook her head while smiling. “Come on. Father needs to see us.”

 Ruby looked at Weiss and hold her hand. Weiss jumped in surprise and looked at her, then she smiled at her and hold hers as well.

 “Well then, and off we go.” Said Ruby.

***

“What a surprise for you to bring the whole… uninvited visitors..” Said Jacques, his voice laced with sarcasm. Weiss didn’t said a thing and just held a steely gaze.

 “Now, I know you know why I called you and your undesirable choice of a suitor. I’m very disappointed to you, Weiss.” He said as he stared at the two.

 Ruby glared at him and her fist curled in anger.

 “Look how she behave. Glaring at the host of the house. Such dreadful manners.” Spat Jacques.

 Weiss snapped.

 “I can stand with you spouting nonsense at me. And the occasional stomp to my ego and pride, as well as my feelings. But, I cannot let you insulting my girlfriend and my friends slide.” Growled Weiss.

 Jacques scoffed. “Is this the result of you joining in the wrong sorts? How inadequate. Are you even worthy of a Schnee?”

 “The only not worthy of the Schnee name is you!” Snarled Ruby. Weiss looked at her in surprise, but regained her composure and didn’t oppose on her outburst.

 Jacques glowered at her. “What did you say, brat?! I’ll have you know, I made the Schnee name more well-known and more powerful. I made it grow. I shaped it to what it deserves to be.”

 “Grow? All I see is your egotistical sorry ass grow. You changed the Schnee name from what it supposed to be. And I am certain that grandfather is disappointed to you.” Spat Weiss.

 “How dare you insult me at my own house?! You ungrateful little twat!” Bellowed Jacques. He stood up from his chair and prepared to slap Weiss, but Ruby took a hold on his hand.

 “Dare? Yes, I dare. Because what you are doing as of now is unworthy of the Schnee name. You have caused millions of people out there, pain and suffering. You belittle everyone you deemed unworthy of your praise. You made countless mistakes, and have yourself involved with countless of crimes. And you ask how dare I insult you in your own house? May I remind you that this house doesn’t belong to you, but belongs to my grandfather who spent his life shaping up the good name that is a Schnee. But what did you do? You blemished the Schnee name, and polluted it. I should be asking you that question. How dare you?”

 Weiss growled at the man and glared at him. Her hands balled into a fist, her palms turning white.

 “And on top of that, you neglected your daughters and son. Well, you may have pamper Whitley because he’s a boy and would be the sole heir of yours, a carbon copy if I do say honestly. But, the question is.. is that how should a father act?”

 Weiss voice quiver and soften. Her eyes glisten and her shoulders droop. She gripped the hem of her blouse and quiver in her spot.

 “Do you even know how we—I feel? I'm like a piece of trash thrown into a pit because I don’t serve anymore purpose to you. I’m like some paper, only to be crumpled because you made a mistake and that mistake is me.”

 Weiss inhaled and sighed. Her eyes fluttered close. Her mind reeling. She wanted to tell him how she feel, what she had always felt. And now is the time.

 “You know, as a child, I've always admire you. How well you seem to cooperate with others or how well you negotiate with them. I've admired you from afar. And as a child, a father with a heart of gold is an admirable one. Also, you had this streaking determination to do what's best for everything and everyone, including us.”

 Weiss opened her eyes and looked at Jacques. His gaze was hard yet soft. Like there was a mist hidden in his eyes that are slowly fading away. She rubbed her arm and her gaze diverted from him.

 “You were a father figure… a great.. Dad. But you changed. The moment that incident happened, you changed. The day where mother had left you, you changed. And my opinion, adoration and admiration, slowly withered away. You became harsh, strict, and arrogant. You were not the same person I used to admire.”

 Weiss exhaled and swallowed the lump on her throat. There was a long pause before she continued.

 “You were lost. You lost yourself in the heap of melancholy and confusion. You lost your light… your warmth.. and you lost your love. And now, I know why you resent me and Winter. We look like mother, and I am an exact spitting image of her, both personality-wise and physical-wise.”

 Weiss was tightlipped and her eyes stared to water.

 “I lost my Mom… now I’m losing my Dad.. just exactly how fast she left us.”

 Weiss suppressed a sniffle and walked away, leaving a gaping Jacques Schnee. Blake and Yang quickly followed to comfort Weiss, leaving Ruby looking at him with a melancholy look in her face. Jacques sank in his chair and put a hand on his eyes while deeply sighing. His fingers tapped at his desk and Ruby saw familiarity at the motion.

 “She acts like you.” She spoke. The man looked at her in confusion. Ruby sat on a nearby chair and smiled sadly.

 “Deep down, she still admires you. She kind of acts like you. With the way you fidget with your hands just as the same as Weiss.” Smiled Ruby. Ruby bit her lip and looked at him. “I’m sorry for saying you are unworthy of the Schnee name, despite not knowing you in any degree.”

 Jacques slowly sighed. “You were.. right for that matter. Weiss is right. My daughter is right.”

 Jacques looked at Ruby and bowed. “I, too, apologize, for insulting you, your friends and your relationship with Weiss. I knew nothing about you to spout some.. atrocities.”

 Ruby blinked at the man. She then smiled understandingly. Jacques looked Ruby intently and spoke.

 “Have I been a bad father?” Asked Jacques, even though he knows the answer he still wanted to hear it.

 “In some degree, yes, you have been.” Ruby answered. She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning on the chair tilting her head up before opening her eyes. “But just like Weiss said, you are lost.”

 “Lost…” Mumbled Jacques. He interlocked his hands and rest his elbows on the desk, his hands covering his mouth. “I may… perhaps been lost..”

 “I know how you feel, Mr. Schnee.” Said Ruby, smiling sadly. Jacques looked at Ruby. Ruby continued to look at the black ceiling.

 “I was once.. lost. I lost and drowned myself in sadness and loneliness. It may have been in a different circumstances, but you and I were the same once.”

 Ruby sighed and draped an arm on her eyes covering them. Jacques listen intently and had gain a different light towards her.

 “True, you may have been a bad father to them… but that could change. It can change. You still have time to correct your mistakes. And that's all that matter. For you to make things straight once again.”

 Ruby sat up straight and smiled at the man. His eyes widen, tears brimming in his eyes.

 “I.. I'm sorry…” Apologized Jacques, his eyes clenched shut.

 “Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to your family.” Grinned Ruby. Jacques nodded and smiled at her. His eyes no longer hard and steely, instead it was warm and soft.

 “Would you mind listening to me?”

 Ruby nodded.

 “Willow.. their mother… left. And of course, as a person who loved, it hurts. I couldn’t bear the fact that she would leave us—me. But she did anyways. And after that, I drowned myself to work and neglected my children. I support them, financially, but not as father would do, but as a business man who didn't care for anyone. Self-centered, if you may.”

 Jacques sighed and tapped his finger in the desk.

 “I am a bad father. I didn’t support them as a father would do. All they had left was me, and yet, I didn’t do my responsibility. Instead, I worked and worked, and drowned myself to my own thoughts, ignoring everything and everyone.”

 Jacques chuckled sarcastically. “Pathetic, am I right?”

 Jacques sniffled and gulped. “But… if I were to be given a chance to change.. I will. I have been lost for so long..”

 Jacques looked at Ruby and smiled genuinely. “I think it’s time for me to find myself.”

***

“Weiss, are you alright?” Asked Yang.

 There they stood in the middle of the estate in the fountain. Weiss stood in front of the fountain with her head down. Yang and Blake behind her, trying to comfort her.

 “I missed my Mom. I missed Winter. Heck, as annoying as my brother is sometimes, I missed him too. And I also missed my Dad.” Weiss sighed and looked up. She covered her eyes from the sunlight, before the clouds moved and covered the sun.

 “I wish.. everything was the same as back then… but no matter how many times I wished for that to happen… the results are always the same… nothing..”

 Yang looked at Blake and stepped forward to Weiss and grabbed her arm pulling her to her chest, hugging her.

 “It's alright, Weiss. Everything is going to be alright. Let it all out.” Yang coped while running her hand on the latter’s head.

 Weiss gripped the back of Yang’s clothes and wailed. Yang held herself back from crying. She doesn’t want Weiss to feel anymore bad by adding to the fuel. Meanwhile, Blake called Winter and informed her about the talk with Jacques and asked her to take care of her sister while she go back to the estate. Blake also told her to call Whitley and come with her, the latter hesitated but agreed and ended the call.

 Weiss just sobbed and cried her pain and sorrows. Blake walked towards the two and hugged them both. It was jarring to see her like this, the Weiss who is proud and confident. Crying, sobbing… broken.. it was shocking, but she understood how she felt. If she was in her shoes, she would act the same, she would feel the same.

 Minutes later, Winter arrived with Whitley behind her. She looked at how miserable Weiss looked right now. She felt her insides churn at how her beloved sister looks right now. Meanwhile, Whitley was shocked. She may have seen her sister cry, but not like this. He felt a stinging feeling inside him after looking at her sister.

 “Winter… Whitley..?” Weiss pondered. “How? Why?”

 “Blake called and informed me of the circumstances. I brought Whitley along with me.” Said Winter. “What did he do?”

 “Nothing extreme… I just.. snapped at him and told him how I felt..” Mumbled Weiss.

 Winter looked down and sighed. “I wish I had the courage as you do, Weiss.”

 “Is that father with Ms. Rose?” Asked Whitley.

 The group perked at the question and looked behind. They looked at Jacques and Ruby. Jacques looked nervous, while Ruby is calmly smiling.

 “I guess the whole family is here.” Chuckled Ruby. She looked at the man and nodded.

 Jacques nodded and steeled himself. “I.. I am sorry for everything.. I don’t expect for you to forgive that easy.. but I want to do things right…”

 Jacques looked at Weiss. “I know I can’t bring back those old days, but I would at least make those old days as possible as I can. Your mother left.. I don’t want you to lose me once again…”

 Weiss had her eyes wide. She brought her hand to her mouth, tears running down on her cheeks. Winter was shocked, as well as Whitley. Weiss ran towards her father and hugged him tightly and sobbed in his arms. Jacques smiled and run his hands to be hair and brought his free hand to ask the other two to join, and they immediately joined.

 And that’s how everything had ended.

***

“I am so sorry to cut this meeting short, but I need to make amends.” Said Jacques. “I need to start over again.”

 Weiss smiled and nodded. Winter raised a hand.

 “Would you like me to give you assistance.. Dad?” Smiled Winter. Jacques looked at her wide eyed, but smiled and nodded.

 “Yes, please.” He said. He ran a hand on his hair and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I hope I'll get to meet you again, Ms. Rose.”

 Ruby laughed and shook her head. “Please call me Ruby. We’re family here.”

 Jacques smiled and pondered. “Family, huh? Very well, Ruby. You may call me..”

 Jacques thought for a minute. Then he looked at Weiss and Ruby, then back at Weiss. His eyes glinted mischievously. Weiss blinked at the mischievous look of her father and suddenly got nervous. Jacques smiled teasingly and spoke.

 “You're my future daughter-in-law, might as well let you call father or dad. And, don’t be formal around me.” Shrugged Jacques. Ruby looked at him bewildered, as well as the rest.

 Ruby then grinned and looked at the blushing Weiss. “You got it, Dad.”

 Weiss blushed brightly and Ruby laughed.

 A few months later…

 “Winter, do we have anything in schedule next week?” Asked Jacques as he viewed every papers in front of him.

 Winter browse to her tablet and looked at the calendar. “Nothing of some sorts, Dad.”

 Jacques hummed and thought for a minute. “Call Ruby.”

 Winter blinked and grabbed the phone from his desk and called Ruby putting it in speaker.

 “Yello? Is there something wrong, Dad?”

 “Nothing. Is Weiss there?” He asked.

 “Nope. She's with Blake right now. Why?”

 “That's good.” Coughed Jacques. “Are you and your family free next week?”

 “Next week? Hmm.. yeah. Pops is on break and our schedules are fine.”

 “Very well. Please do pack necessities. We're going to a resort.” Smiled Jacques.

 “Resort?! Whoah. Sure thing, Dad! Shall I tell them?”

 “Please do, Ruby.” He chuckled at his future daughter-in-law’s enthusiasm.

 “Okay. See ya soon, Dad.”

 “You too, Ruby.” Said Jacques and ended the call.

 “Resort, huh?” Smiled Winter. “I’ll inform Whitley.”

 Jacques chuckled and nodded. “Go ahead, Winter.”

[oswaldsirius]

Once in a Lifetime

Chapter Seven: Surprise

Pairing: Leonardo/Arabella

Word Count: 2602

A/N: Happy Friday the 13th! :3 My favourite day of the year!

-

           Plopping her chin her hands, Arabella stared across the desk at Emil. She knew he was ignoring her on purpose; he’d been doing it all week. He’d promised to show her around, to help her, but he’d kept her at the house since their parents had left. At least in Venice she’d been allowed into the city.

           With an escort of course but it was better than now.

           “Emil.”

           “Arabella.”

           She pursed her lips. It had been like this every day. He wouldn’t give her anything.

           Grey eyes so like her own flicked up to her. “You’re huffing,” he said as he looked down again.

           “I’m bored.”

           “There’s plenty to do.”

           “I want to see the city, Emil. Not the inside of your house.”

           “Well, thanks to your display, Father’s made sure I have more work to do than usual.”

           Her nose wrinkled. “I can go by myself.”

           “I know,” he sighed, looking at her. “But if anything else happens, I don’t know what they’ll do.”

           “I’m an adult.”

           “And they’re traditionalists, Arabella. You threw everything to the wind with what you did. A dance with someone they hadn’t introduced you to? You had to know what was coming if you did that. Even if they aren’t here, they’re still watching.”

           “They can’t do anything to you,” she muttered, slumping back in her seat.

           “Yes they can. I run the company, but they own it. If I step out of line, they’ll find someone else to run it.”

           Tucking her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and plopped her chin on them. Were all families like this? Surely, they couldn’t be this controlling. The couldn’t be. Was it just a quirk of vampire fate that she had wound up in the most controlling family to ever exist in their kind? She could feel him watching her, but she didn’t know what to say anymore. At least, nothing that would help her cause.

           She’d hoped Paris would be different than Venice. Apparently, it was worse.

           No. A soft smile crossed her face and she buried it in her knees. There was one good thing. She’d spent the last week texting Leonardo through the day and late into the night. She’d felt bad because she couldn’t give him a date or time that they could meet. He hadn’t seemed to mind, happy to continue texting her no matter the hour.

           Her smile faded. They hadn’t texted this morning though. It was still early so she could try messaging him to distract herself from her boredom. Like she’d been doing all week.

           Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she ignored Emil as he looked at her when she began to type. Are you busy?

           “Been on your phone a lot of these days, Arabella.”

           “Mmhmm.” She tried not to watch her phone, tried not to be disappointed when she couldn’t see him responding.

           “Dare I ask who?”

           “Mm.” Maybe he was busy. He hadn’t said much about what he did but there were times he took a while to respond. But he always responded.

           Before Emil could ask anything else, a knock came at the door. “Pardon moi, Monsieur Cavinato. Your ten o’clock meeting has arrived.”

           He let out a slow breath. “Thank you, Louis,” he said, standing. “Arabella.”

           She made a face and left her chair to follow him out of the room. Even if she was curious about what his meeting would be about, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be involved in it. Yet. So she would have to go back up to her room or outside or anywhere but where this meeting was happening. A glance at her phone didn’t make her feel better when she saw no message. Walking with him into the foyer, she started to turn to the stairs at the back, resigning herself to another boring day on her own.

           “Cara mia?”

           Arabella froze at the voice before spinning around. “Leonardo?”

           He was standing inside the door, hands in pockets in that nonchalant pose of his. A faint smile on his face as he looked at her, but she could see how bright his eyes were from across the room. She couldn’t help staring, joy filling her. Was this why he hadn’t responded? Because he was coming to see her?

           “We weren’t expecting you,” Emil said quietly, snapping her out of the happy bubble forming around her.

           “It was my idea he come, Emiliano,” Saint-Germain said smoothly and she nearly jumped when she realised he was there. Which of course he was because he must have been the meeting. “I have other business after ours that Leonardo is integral for so there was no point in leaving him behind.”

           “You could have mentioned it.”

           Arabella bit her lip. The opportunity was perfect for her to spend time with him, but Emil could put a stop to it and seemed like he was about to do just that. Stepping up to him, she caught his arm and waited for him to look at her. “You have your meeting,” she said softly. “I can entertain him while you’re busy.”

           His eyes narrowed. “Arabella.”

           “It’s allowed,” she continued. “According to tradition, it’s allowed.”

           Emil flicked a look at the other two. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

           “But it did. Emil, please.”

           He stared at her before sighing. “One hour,” he said firmly, “and you don’t go far.”

           Her eyes widened. He was letting her leave the house as well? “Thank you!” she said quickly, popping onto her toes to kiss his cheek.

           The smile was still on Leonardo’s face as she turned to him. “Hey there, cara mia,” he murmured as she reached him.

           “Hi.” Damn it, she sounded breathless! Even if she was, she didn’t want to sound that way! “Do you want to go on a walk?”

           Slipping his hands out of his pockets, he held one out to her. “Come, cara mia. Let’s walk.”

           Arabella grinned at him and followed him out of the door. It was hard to keep herself from dancing down the stairs, but his hand in hers kept her restrained. She didn’t even care about his laugh as she tipped her face up to the sun.

           “Not letting you outside?”

           It should have been a gentle tease but a glance at him told her there was more to it than that. “Outside? Yes,” she admitted. “Off the property? No.”

           He squeezed her hand, his brow tightening for a moment. “They were that mad?” he muttered.

           Arabella felt a pang run through her. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, even if it had been keeping them apart. She didn’t want to ruin anything they could have today. “Please don’t worry about it. It wasn’t so bad.” That was a lie, but he didn’t need to know.

           He looked down at her before sighing and smiling again. “Alright, cara mia. Let’s go then, yeah?”

           She nodded eagerly and led him to the walkthrough gate. There wasn’t much fuss getting through, Emil must have called them since she hadn’t thought to, but she didn’t miss the looks security gave them. They slipped from her as they stepped through and she was finally in the city.

           Leonardo’s chuckle drew her attention back to him. “Wanted to ask if you wanted a coffee but would you rather explore, Arabella?”

           Her cheeks heated. “Am I really that transparent?”

           He chuckled again and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “We have an hour. Where do you want to go?”

           “Oh, I….” She didn’t actually know. For all the looking into the city, she’d focused on major sites, nothing close by.

           His head cocked a little and she thought she saw fond delight in his gaze. “Walk and talk then?”

           Arabella blinked before beaming up at him. “That sounds perfect!”

-

           He had made a mistake.

           Leonardo’s heart was doing something in his chest as she smiled at him. It wasn’t a new feeling by any means, but it had been a long time since it had happened. He had a sneaking suspicion he would need to get used to it again with her back in his life.

           Giving her hand a small tug, he smiled as she fell into step with him. “This way first?” he asked.

           Her answering smile was as bright as the sun.

           The street wasn’t too busy with traffic, but people were out walking in force. Tourists taking in what they could of the architecture that wasn’t hidden behind walls and hedges. It made it harder to talk as he focused on keeping the steady flow from disrupting her own sight seeing. She didn’t seem to notice or care as she looked around.

           The joy rolling off of her was a balm on the loneliness that ate at him. He soaked it up as they walked, not caring about anything but being with her. This was enough for him for now.

           Leonardo slowly rubbed his thumb the length of her forefinger and tried not to sigh. Content. That was how he felt. After days of not seeing her, of the only contact between them those text conversations, he’d grown anxious and restless. He’d prowled the house looking for any distraction, but little had pulled him fully away from her.

           He’d leapt on Saint-Germain’s offer as soon as he’d said it. His friend hadn’t commented but he knew he hadn’t sat still for the entire trip through the city. Too much energy and then her text had nearly shattered all of his self control. Not responding had been hard but they’d been so close to arriving. The immediate happiness on her face when she’d turned had been worth it and been enough to cover his own reaction to seeing her.

           Slanting a look over, he could admit he hadn’t been ready to see her. The only modern outfit she’d had before was her blouse and skirt which he’d grown used to quickly before she’d swapped to era appropriate attire. The extravagant ballgown from the other night had been breathtaking but…. Her sleeveless blouse and shorts exposed so much of the olive toned skin he loved he’d been robbed of nearly all reason. The longer back of the shirt fluttered with her every move, lending an elegance to the outfit that was befitting her family. She seemed to float beside him, fully content on following wherever he led.

           She was utterly captivating and had him completely caught with a single look.

           Bright eyes met his suddenly and took what little composure he had left. It took a couple tries to say anything, to think of anything to say. “Cara mia?”

           “I’m glad I got to see you,” she said, smiling.

           “Me too.”

           He didn’t miss the way she caught his hand with both of hers. “We aren’t talking much though.”

           “Did you want to sit for a while?” They might have been in an older residential area, but he’d seen the park they’d driven past earlier. It would be a good place to sit or wander further.

           She glanced around and shook her head. “No but…”

           He smiled and tugged on her again. She followed, a curious smile of her own on her face. The trust she had for him left him stunned. She might not consciously remember him, but some part of her must have. She came with him so easily it was like no time had passed at all.

           They crossed a street and continued into the park. It wasn’t as busy as the sidewalks, but it was still peppered with people. Wandering along one of the paths, Leonardo laughed softly.

           “Leonardo?”

           He gave her a grin. “We’ve spent all week texting each other, talking about many things, but now that we’re together, we have nothing.”

           Arabella laughed as well. “It’s easier when we’re typing because you can pause and think and it’s okay. A little harder to do in person.”

           Talking to people had always been his thing. Even when he’d first met her, it had been easy. Was it memories of their past that had him struggling to find the words to say? A sudden idea tugged at his heart. “How about we do this again, cara mia?” he said. “I’ll give you another question to get us going.”

           “Another?”

           “Just like the garden. Whatever you want. Whatever comes to mind.”

           She squeezed his hand, making a quiet noise. “One question of Leonardo da Vinci to ask whatever I want,” she mused. “One more….”

           He had half a moment to be scared but he pushed it aside. Her questions had become fun after a while, even if the first had been hard. He’d looked forward to what her mind would come up with and he could dance around topics again if he had to. Hopefully.

           “What’s your favourite food?”

           Leonardo blinked. “My what?”

           “Food,” she repeated. “I know you haven’t needed to have it for centuries but…I’m curious.”

           “Anything in the world and you ask that?”

           “I didn’t have time to prepare, Signore.”

           A burst of laughter left him at her tart tone. “Scusa, cara mia, and apples.”

           Her head tipped to one side. “Apples?”

           “Yes.”

           “Huh.”

           Leonardo slanted her a look. “What’s that? Not satisfied with apples?”

           “I didn’t say that,” she said quickly before laughing. “It’s just not what I expected.”

           “Why not, cara mia?”

           “You’ve been around for so long, been to so many places and courts and…apples?”

           He laughed again. “What’s wrong with apples? They’re good.”

           “I didn’t say they weren’t! But you can have anything in the world and you like apples the most?”

           He liked her the most.

           “Is there a reason why?”

           “Already used your question, Arabella,” he teased.

           Her nose wrinkled as she made a face at him. “That’s mean. You only gave me a bit and I’ve asked you far more questions in a day.”

           Leonardo grinned at her. Still so indignant over this! “Not fair for you to get to ask and I don’t get any,” he teased.

           “Well, then, Leonardo, what would you ask me?”

           Do you truly not remember me, remember us? Do you feel anything for me beyond this curiosity you have? If you’ve truly forgotten, can you love me again? “Only fair I ask in return, cara mia,” he said, pushing all of his real questions aside for now. “What is your favourite food?”

           The ever-present storm in her eyes cleared and his breath froze in his lungs at how bright she became. “Tiramisu,” she said without a moment’s hesitation.

           She always had loved her coffee, but even as dessert? “We don’t have time to find some today, but we should be able to next time, yes?”

           “No.”

           His heart stopped as the refusal was nearly as automatic as her original answer. “No, cara mia?” he hedged.

           “They don’t make it right.”

           Tension eased back into amusement. “Arabella, we’re in Paris and some of the finest chefs in the world live and work here.”

           “And they make it wrong,” she insisted stubbornly.

           There was no helping his smile. “Who makes it right then?”

           “That’s another question.”

           “Never said the rule applied to me, cara mia.”

           She gave him a look that didn’t last and he watched as she dissolved into laughter.

           Stroking her hand with his thumb again, Leonardo sighed softly, happily, contentedly. He would let the question go for now. It wasn’t important. What was important was she hadn’t said no to a next time and he was already looking forward to learning what new secrets she had.