#pardon my emotional wall of text

[nabaath-areng]

I feel so strange thinking about how I considered myself "new" in FFXIV for the longest time, as when I started playing there were so many legacy players around. I saw their mounts and their titles, I talked to them, played with them, and to me they were the experienced ones teaching me how to play my first MMO. For years I considered myself a newbie.

And then, just the other day, I see in the chat of an FC I was invited to on an alt, people talking about having played for a long time, and their longest playing member having been around for 5 years. It hit me just how long of a time that is, and how much longer passed before I'd even realized it.

I ask others if they remember various things from the past, and I can count on one hand the amount of people I meet in recent years who do. So many things I still consider new and flashy, like Gpose and job gauges for instance, have now been in the game far longer than they have not. It's a strange situation caused by me losing about a decade's worth of memories and life (due to mental health issues that practically broke me) as well as the normal feeling ot time passing without me really thinking about it. Less and less did I see the legacy titles and mounts, but I didn't pay much heed. Until one day I suddenly stop and look around, realizing that I haven't seen any legacy players at all for a while. I'm certain they're out there, but most likely not in the same sheer abundance as before.

It's a bit similar to real life, where my home was once just an old, secluded village that have now become geographically closer to the city without ever moving. Where the others I used to surround myself with have all moved on in slow trickles over the years, and where I cannot expect everyone to remember the same things that I do. So many new people everywhere, some that cause lines in the grocery store that can afford to keep running after all these years, and some that fail to load in on my weak little laptop's screen.

It's like I have two homes mirroring each other, and obviously that means I age in both of them. I bought this game as a gift for myself on my 18th birthday... and here I am 10 years later, turning 28 today, and realizing that I'm still here in both places despite everything. Waiting for another expansion all over again, just like when I was staying alive just because I wanted to play Heavensward so bad.

I can't even begin to count just how many people I've known and interacted with throughout the years in this game. There are memories that my years of paranoia and psychosis stole from me (something which I only shook off the last remnants of half a year ago), of people who I know were important to me but who I'm also unable recall much about beyond their names, which is something which fills me with both deep shame and sorrow. Some I remain in touch with to this day, and some I am mutuals with on various sites, even if we don't chat regularly anymore.

There's a lot that I don't remember, or that I even memorized in the first place. Things have changed time and again for both better and worse. But FFXIV has remained a constant throughout it all, even when I've been unsubbed due to lack of a PC and just on a general break.

I don't know what my point is with all of this really, but I guess I just really wanted to get it off my chest. It's not all sunshine and rainbows these days either, but my mental health is better than it's ever been, I have a partner and friends and family who all mean the world to me, and even though some things will forever be less than ideal, I am so so so happy that I didn't give up. Staying alive really was the best decision I ever made ❤️

[0sincerelyella]

Can you do a Josh Allen one shot where you are comforting him after losing a game? Possibly with cuddling and smut 😊 thank you!

Wins and loses -Josh Allen

Summary: Josh can take losses if big games a little harsher than other people, taking it personally, and beat himself up way more than the others. the only way he gets out of that headspace is y/n

Notes: UGH IVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE FOR JOSH ALLEN he so is my second favorite NFL quarterback. we can ALL agree that josh allen is, pardon me, a giant cry baby during games, from ACTUAL fits, to yelling at his teammates, which doesn’t make me love him any less it just makes this plot so much easier to write so thank you for the personality trait josh. i

hope you love it!

i’m writing y/n as a bengals fan (from a bengals fans perspective maybe i’m bias but it’s to create more drammmmaaa)

i also may do a part two or make a josh allen series bc i had so much fun writing this, would anyone read it?

the score of the game was very conflicting to y/n. It was the play off game before the AFC championship, and unfortunately for y/ns love life and fortunately for y/ns sports influencer life the bengals had just beat the bills and are going to the AFC championship.

Y/n, growing up in cincinnati, was on the social media team for the cincinnati bengals. she grew up in ohio, and moved to wyoming for college in 2014 where she met her long term boyfriend when he transferred in 2015. in 2017 the two of them graduated and y/n traveled around the country for her boyfriends job until 2020.

in 2020 she got an offer to work on the bengals social media team, and she couldn’t turn the offer down. so she moved away from her boyfriend, josh allen, who lived in buffalo and was the quarterback for the buffalo bills, and she moved to cincinnati.

days like this made the relationship hard to maintain. she hadn’t seen josh since last may towards the end of off season when he had visited her. she texted him every day and called him every night, even showing up at his games all the way across the country to support him, but never being able to see him due to the teams tight rules.

today was especially hard. Today was the AFC divisional round leading up to the Championship game. The bills were playing against the bengals in cincinnati, the first game against the teams since the Damar Hamlin incident.

The bills had just lost, and like every bengals win, y/n walked onto the field, this time not only to congratulate her team, but also to chase after her extra emotional other half.

since they lost, their season is over and josh is going to stay with y/n for awhile. it’s all bittersweet.

y/n ran across the field. throwing mindless congratulations towards the teammates who are playing kansas city next week. She chased after josh who had already buried himself into the locker room. He took these loses. especially in the playoffs. feeling like, what the internet calls, “the bills curse” is all his fault.

y/n say down outside the locker room and waited. players passed her going in and out. she waved hello and goodbye to bills players as they retreated to their hotel before they flew back to buffalo tomorrow.

stefon diggs stopped as he left the locker room, sitting next to y/n. “he’s worse than usual” he said, leaning his head back on the wall. “do you know why?” he sighed. “i think it’s cause you were watching”

“i watch all his games stef.” y/n knew the bills very well. though she barely ever saw them, she texted them checking on josh often. she and stefon have grown to be good friends.

“yeah but i think this has something to do with your job, i think it’s mixed with jealousy” y/n nodded, sighing as the coach walked out of the room.

“no one else but josh. go ahead” coach said, causing y/n to practically fly out of the seat. she ran into the locker room in search for josh.

“joshy” she called out. he was sitting in a chair, in the middle of the room. it was empty, the only thing in the room is josh’s jersey he disposed of in the middle of the floor.

he sat in a chair, his head in his hands. y/n could tell from his red knuckles he had been punching the punching bag that hang in the corner of the locker room. she knelt infront of him. “hey joshy?” she placed her hand on top of his and waited for him to look at her. Josh moved his hands, and rested them on his knees. “y/n” he said, he’d been crying.

“oh josh,” she said, hurting for her boy. “it isn’t your fault” she said, gripping the hand on his knee. “y/n you don’t get it.” he tilted his head back. “no i don’t, i don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’ve done the wrong thing in such an important situation” she said, hinting to the decision between her job and her relationship

“y/n you know that’s not what i meant”

“i know i’m sorry, but really joshy. it isn’t your fault. it takes a whole team, and sometimes the other team just had an advantage” josh scoffed

“you have to say that, it’s your job. your team, the most important thing to you”

y/n moved her hand, placing it on his cheek, his hand moved to hold onto hers in fear of if he let go he’d lose her like he lost this game

“Josh. you know i couldn’t turn this down. it’s close to my sister and her kids, i grew up here. she said, watching tears well up in his eyes. “nothing is more important to me than you, but that doesn’t mean that other things arnt important to me” he nodded.

“but i’m sat there, infront of hundreds of thousands to millions of people who are saying it’s their year and i can’t make it. i can never make it” her heart broke as his desperate tone.

“babe, you need to practice staying cool”

“did joe teach you that?”

“joshua.” she said, huffing at his accusations “do you watch him play josh? you are just as good if not better than him” he watched her intently as she tried to make him feel better

“the only difference between you and joe, is your temper.” she stood up, reaching her arms out. “come here give me a hug” he smiled, stand in front of her, pulling her swiftly into a hug. “i’m sorry i snapped at you beautiful” he swayed them back and forth. “i just get so worked up and i don’t know how to control it, but never should i take it out on you” he kissed her forehead as she curled into his chest.

he hugged her close. “i love you beautiful” he said, smiling happily. “here stand on the chair let’s go to the car” he said, standing in-front of the chair, letting her jump onto his back.

he walked to her car, sitting her down, opening the passenger seat to let her sit while he drove her home.

the drive home was peaceful, he held her hand, resting it on the automatic stick in front of the consul. When the two arrived to y/ns apartment, the two of them changed, y/n into one of josh’s tshirts that she kept from before she moved, and josh in a pair of sweatpants.

the two turned on a movie and layed on the couch. josh held y/n on his chest, he played with her hair as he pretending to watch the movie that played. “you know princess, if you were on the field with me all the time i would’ve won the super bowl already” he laughed, hoping she’d laugh at his joke. instead of laughing, as he waited for a response all he got was heavy breathing. “oh come on, that was the most hilarious joke i’ve ever made and your sleeping” he whispered, tucking the blanket around only her as he skillfully snaked out from under her.

with perfect ease he picked her up and walked her to her room. after tucking her in, he got into her next to her and cuddled up next to her. he kissed her cheek, “i love you princess” he whispered and held her close. he yawned, closing his eyes and finally getting a good nights sleep.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 2: "The 1"

"And if my wishes came true, it would've been you..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

Bucky POV

“So Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?” Bucky remains silent, pensively staring at the wall. Dr. Raynor speaks a little louder this time, finally catching Bucky's attention, “James, I asked you a question: Are you still having nightmares?”

“No.”

“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying," Dr. Raynor lightly scolds, examining the super soldier as he sits in the couch opposite her. He looks tired, exhausted even, and definitely more agitated than normal. "And, well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?”

”No.”

This time he tells the truth. Nothing really happens anymore. His phone doesn’t ding with texts that he wouldn’t respond to either way. He’s accepted the silence. He welcomes it. Except for his amends, he's alone. And he's found a certain contentment with the loneliness. 

“You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…” Dr. Raynor trails off, raising her first in insinuation. She drops her hand, giving Bucky an urging expression. “It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare,” he dryly insists. 

Dr. Raynor sighs in defeat, her eyes flicker up to Bucky’s stoic, unimpressed expression. "Did something happen? Have you talked to anyone?"

He shrugs, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"Let me see your phone," Dr. Raynor states, a firm finality in her tone that leaves Bucky no room to argue. 

A huff of annoyance leaves his mouth, reluctantly pulling the phone from his pocket to hand to Dr. Raynor.

She flips open the phone, tilting her head at Bucky in mild disappointment.

"You don't even have ten numbers on this thing, and I'm the only person you've called all week. That is so sad." She looks up from the screen to look at Bucky and the stone-faced expression still on his face, seemingly unaffected by anything she’s saying. "You're alone. You're a hundred years old, you have no family, no history-"

"Are you lashing out at me, Doc?" Bucky wryly retorts. "Because that's really unprofessional. I mean, when did that start with your clients-"

"You've ignored all texts from Sam. And let's not talk about Sunshine? I'm going to assume that's a nickname." This time Bucky unintentionally remains silent. Dr. Raynor notes the way Bucky's jaw ticks, clenching from the bittersweet memory of your short-lived emergence in his life. A tie that he himself cut without so much as a goodbye.

And though he really wishes that she wouldn't prod at the emotional wound, he's not naive enough to think she wouldn't to finally put a crack in Bucky's stoic, unchanging expression. 

And he has to commend her, because it's a very effective strategy.

His first curls in as she looks at the screen, reading aloud each unanswered message from you. Each text he can almost hear in your voice. He can almost picture the way your mouth would twist in disappointment as you realized he was never going to respond.

Each text read aloud just adds more salt in the wound. 

"I just wanna know if you're okay."

"Are we okay?"

"In case you see this, I miss you."

"Is that weird? Doesn't matter, it's the truth."

"I think I'm going to go with Sam to Louisiana."

"I don't think there's much left for me in New York."

"I'm leaving today."

"The sky's really blue here."

"If you see this, could you maybe tell me? No pressure."

"Okay, I think I should stop texting you now."

"Really hope that I haven't been texting a random trucker or something."

"Not that there's anything wrong with being a trucker, but you get what I mean. I think?"

"Okay, for real this time, if you don't respond I won't bother you anymore."

"Goodbye."

He's tempted to breathe a sigh of relief when Dr. Raynor finally finishes the chain of unanswered text messages. He keeps it to himself. He deserved to set that tight, burning sensation linger in his throat, constricting his airways and making his chest feel a million pounds heavier.

There was no point in psycho-analyzing it, it was done. You'd received his message loud and clear.

"You never even called her back, James. That's really awful," Dr. Raynor states like she's really trying to make him feel like an ever bigger asshole than he already felt like.

And he still remains silent.

Because, to him, there was nothing to say. He made his bed, now all there was to do was lie in his self-imposed exile.

It was better this way. He just needed to keep reminding himself of that. 

It was better this way. 

He only breaks the silence when Dr. Raynor scoffs and pulls out her small notepad. The loud clicking of her pen pulls Bucky out of his reverie this time. With an eye roll, he remarks, "Oh, the notebook thing, great. You know, that's really passive aggressive."

"You don't talk, I write," she reminds him, a slight smile on her face that annoys Bucky just even more. 

"And what would you like me to say?" he asks. 

“Why didn’t you respond?” she bluntly questions, setting the notebook down back down in her lap.

“There was nothing to say,” he dryly replies. She shakes her head, sighs, and picks up the notebook again. Before she can click the pen again, he interrupts, "Alright!"

"Good," Dr. Raynor starts. "Tell me about the nightmare."

"I didn't have a nightmare."

"Then tell me about the nickname."

His shoulders stiffen slightly. He can't remember the last time he willfully thought about you. Or the last time this particular emotional wound had been prodded in such rapid succession. Sometimes it crept up on him, little flashes, a kaleidoscope of memories. Most of his time was spent trying not to think about any of it. That was his goal most days: to repress and let go. He just hadn't figured that part out yet. And when he was being really honest about it, there was an even bigger part that didn't want to let it go. "What about it?"

"Did you give her the nickname?"

"No. Steve did," Bucky answers easily. 

"But you still use it?" Dr. Raynor correctly assumes. 

"Clearly."

"Why?"

"It's a nickname, Doc," Bucky defensively responds, clearly getting even more agitated as this line of questioning goes on. "Not much else to say."

"You clearly think it's appropriate. Or you wouldn't be using it."

"It is appropriate," Bucky admits. "But I'm not the one that gave it to her."

"Why is it appropriate?"

He thinks back to when Steve first explained it to him. He barely knew you. And he thought it was a bit of a ridiculous nickname for an adult woman, but Steve was adamant that it suited you perfectly.

-

"Sunshine," Steve calls, waving you over.

"Sunshine?" Bucky repeats, a slight disdain and question in his words. 

Steve dismissively shrugs. "It suits her."

"It's a ridiculous nickname," Bucky disagrees. 

You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam on the other side of the jet, you hold out your finger to Steve and Bucky telling them to give you a minute. 

"It just works. She's such a warm person. A freaking goofball. Especially after everything she's gone through, it suits her," Steve repeats. 

"Everything she's gone through?" Bucky cautiously questions. 

"That's a story for a different day, Buck."

Before Bucky can probe anymore, you make your way over to the two of them. 

"How can I help my Star Spangled friend and - " you stop, clicking your teeth together as you look at Bucky for a moment too long. You narrow your eyes at Bucky, rocking back and forth on your heels. For a second, he thinks you're scared, hesitant because he did just try to kill you only a few days ago. "Nope, sorry, I don't have a nickname for you yet."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow and in spite of his best efforts, a small chuckle bubbles out of his mouth.

"Told you, Sunshine," Steve repeats, a warm smile on his face. 

"It's a ridiculous nickname," you playfully complain, taking a seat in between the two super soldiers. As the words leave your mouth, you lightly punch Steve's arm. "I've told you that a million times."

"You love it," Steve scoffs, throwing his heavy arm around your shoulders.

From underneath Steve's arm, you look up at Bucky with a wide grin, "Don't listen to him, it's ridiculous."

-

"She's a warm person, all right," Bucky finally responds, still a touch too defensive to not be noticed by Dr. Raynor. "Bright, smiley, a freakin' goofball. But she's warm, everything about her."

Dr. Raynor sympathetically exhales, placing the notepad and pen on the small table beside her. "One day, you're going to have to open up and realize that some people really do want to help you, to be there for you, and that they can be trusted."

"I trust people," Bucky argues.

"So why didn't you pick up the phone?"

There were a lot of reasons, so he decides on giving her the easiest response to articulate, "Because she's warm. So freaking warm."

Next Chapter

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

[copperbadge]

One of the nice things about the Shivadh romances is that even though I obviously care about them being reasonably well-written, they’re also very much written to satisfy the emotions, so I can kinda wander into whatever part of the book I want, write something self-indulgent, and wander off again. 

So if you wanted an update on what’s going on with the Wine Hole from Infinite Jes, there’s one coming up in Twelve Points...

Out in the bunker's main room, Noah was sitting at the conference table, working on something on a tablet. Michaelis was with him; Caleb wasn't sure he was ever going to get used to seeing the King Emeritus slouched in a chair, feet up on the conference table, glasses perched on his nose and a book in his lap.  

"Noah, we need your help," Caleb announced. Noah looked up. "We need to take a pretentious dramatic album cover type photo."

"Wine hole," Noah said.

"Beg pardon?" Buck asked. 

"Come on," Noah said, rising. "I'll show you the wine hole, I can take the photo for you." 

"If you die, don't come running to me," the King Emeritus said mildly, without looking up from his book. 

"Nobody's going to die, it's been reinforced," Noah assured them, as Caleb and Buck followed him curiously down a hallway. "The bunker used to be like an actual bunker, with food supplies and stuff. There's a wine cellar, we call it the wine hole because the first time we found it I kinda fell in," he added. "It's super atmospheric."  

There was a roughly shored-up gap in the hallway wall about halfway down, and inside was a small room full of support scaffolding, with a dimly lit gap in the floor where a series of steep steps led downwards. Caleb followed Noah down, then blinked when Noah flipped a breaker and the room was illuminated. 

"Whoa," Buck said, when he reached the bottom. 

The wine cellar was actually a cavern, a huge oval shape with an arching natural roof; empty wine racks had been grouped into a mass to one side, and bright bare bulbs hung from support scaffolding, thick electrical cords winding up and down temporary metal columns. Noah led them through it, picking up a lantern on the way, and slipped through a large gap in an elderly brick wall at the back of the cavern. 

"Here ya go," he said, holding up the lantern. 

Someone had carved something deep into the rock, at what would be eye level for someone slightly taller than Caleb. Two lines of text, and a rough oblong shape below them. Buck leaned in close. 

"What's it say?" he asked. "It's not in English." 

"It's Latin," Noah said. "Michaelis says it says We have conquered both above and below." 

"Latin? Like...from ancient Rome?" Buck asked. 

"Well, someone could've put it there any time before the forties, I guess," Noah said. "That's when the wall went in. But the archaeologists are pretty sure it's from at least 1800 years ago. Maybe older. That's when the Romans were here. And there's the dick." 

"The what," Caleb said. Noah pointed to the oblong shape, which on closer inspection had a specific bend to it, and two ovals beneath it. Buck sniggered. "Well, someone had a high opinion of himself." 

"Michaelis says I have to ace my Italian exam this year before he explains the Latin to me, but I'm pretty sure the literal translation says something a lot more obscene than 'conquered'," Noah said. 

"There," Caleb said, pointing to one of the words. "Futavimus. Fottere in Italian means -- ah, it's a rude word." 

"We've fucked 'em both above and below," Buck inferred. 

"Taking your picture with a Latin engraving automatically looks cool," Noah said with a grin. "And if anyone does read it..."

"I'm pretty sure we can't put the dick on Photogram," Caleb ventured. 

"No, but you can block it out. Here," Buck said, gesturing him forward. He held up his hands, and Caleb nodded; Buck guided him into place with a light grip on his shoulders, turning him so that he was in profile, his head blocking the carving. "Stay put," Buck said, and moved around behind him, passing his phone to Noah. 

"Oh, I see," Noah said, snapping photos. He moved the lantern around a few times, taking more.

"Come on, get the good shot," Buck said.

"Can't hurry art," Noah replied.

"I do that all the time," Buck replied. 

"Just hold still for the love of -- Caleb, hang on, don't move your body but turn your head," Noah said. Caleb twisted a little, looking at Noah. "Okay, right into the lens -- there. Pretentious, gorgeous, perfect." 

He hadn't realized how cool and dry the wine cellar was until they climbed the ladder back up into the warmer, humid air of the bunker, which had an almost plantlike smell to it compared to the cavern. 

At the conference table Buck and Caleb both leaned over Noah, studying the photos. In them, Caleb and Buck stood back-to-back, at one end of the inscription; Buck's head was next to Futavimus, and Caleb's neatly blocked out the obscene image below the rest of the inscription. Most of the shots looked dramatic and interesting, but Caleb couldn't deny the best one was the last, where Buck was still looking off to one side, but Caleb's face was turned to the camera, his eyes big and dark as he looked into the lens. 

"That's the one," Buck said. Caleb nodded. A hand came into view; Michaelis, still not looking at them, reaching out for the phone. Noah rolled his eyes and put it in his palm. The old king held the phone and studied the image, lips twitching upwards. 

"Caleb told me what Futavimus means," Noah said, tone reproachful. 

"It's always good to have two sources for your data," Michaelis told him. "I know Photogram has an obscenity filter, but I don't think it speaks Latin. Approved," he concluded, and passed the phone back to Buck. 

"You can't adopt them, they're too old," Noah said, as Buck dropped the image to Caleb, who opened Photogram and stitched it onto the audio file. 

"I can adopt anyone I please, I'm incredibly old," Michaelis replied calmly. 

[midnightsunnyday]

When With His Father, Diavolo Is A Lot More Stern, The Demon King, On The Other Hand...Part Seven (Final)

A/N: it’s the final conclusion for this series! Thank you all for sticking through it. This has been a fun headcanon to write. I wanted to write the Demon King in my own way, yet would love to see him one day in canon. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this series. Until the next one, stay safe everyone!

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

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

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

8:10 PM

Diavolo: before we leave, I suppose we should check up on the...oh.

*Mammon, head occupying the inside of a wall*

*Satan, buried under a bookshelf*

*Belphegor, sprawled out near a broken window*

*Solomon and Asmodeus, outside the window, knocked out and covered in glass*

*Leviathan, tangled on the chandelier*

*Beelzebub, torso jammed between a wooden chair*

Barbatos: Young Master, there you are.

Diavolo: let me guess, father threw yet another one of his tantrums after losing to Lucifer?

Barbatos: indeed.

Diavolo, looking around: though if anything, I'd say this party was an absolute success. This isn't half as bad as the damage he did last time.

Barbatos: Young Master, it is my deepest regret for not tending to you sooner. You were in pain, and I completely disregarded it for my majesty's sake. Had I only been more proactive, I could have prevented such a disaster. I am not worthy of being your butler. I will resign immediately.

Diavolo: well, I wouldn't say I was in pain, yet still, absolutely not! I will not allow you to resign!

Barbatos: but--

Diavolo: --you're my family, Barbatos. I couldn't possibly imagine you leaving my side, not now or ever. Without you I'm not sure what I'd do. So please, don't ever speak those words again.

Barbatos, blushing: Young Master I...thank you.

MC: aww.

Diavolo: now then, what to do about all this?

Barbatos: should we tend to everyone?

Diavolo: well, that depends. Father, are you still cognizant?

The Demon King, slumped over the couch: the fuck is a cognizant?

Diavolo: good. What say you, Lucifer?

Lucifer, flat on his back: where’s my MC? MC. MCCCCCC.

MC, sighing: what?

Lucifer: guess what IIIIII won?

MC: ....Me?

Lucifer, stretching out his arms: yaaaay. Now come...come give me a hug.

MC: no.

Lucifer, pouting: but I want one.

Diavolo: and what about the rest of you? Still holding on?

Everyone: *groans in pain*

Diavolo: well, I believe that settles it. Everyone's fine.

Leviathan: heeeelp.

Diavolo: just fine.

Barbatos: but Young Master--

Diavolo: --Barb, please. The last thing I need after an extensive therapeutic session is to be burdened with unneeded physical and emotional stress.

Barbatos: I beg your pardon?

MC: *clears throat* hi there, "certified" demonic counselor speaking. For the past 72 hours, Lord Diavolo has suffered through extensive psychological stress. Therefore, it is of my "professional opinion" that he, as we humans tend to say, "Fuck it."

Barbatos: I see. Though I am not certain of your qualifications, I do agree that the Young Master has been under a great deal more stress than usual. Though I must admit, this behavior is completely unlike him. Should I be concerned?

Diavolo: of course not. However, I've done nothing but run myself ragged trying to chase after my father. I think being a bit selfish for once won't harm anything. Besides, I'm sure they'll live, considering they're immortal, after all.

Barbatos: if that is what you wish, then I will oblige.

Diavolo: besides, I could really use something to eat.

MC: we still have some food in the kitchen, though it needs to be cooked.

Barbatos: then I will start immediately.

Diavolo: Barbatos, you truly are one of a kind.

Barbatos: and truly, I am humbled by your words.

MC, smiling: good grief.

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

*a few days later*

Barbatos: and?

The Demon King: and that such actions are unbecoming of a king and…oh, come now, do I really need to say all this?

Barbatos: I believe you should, yes.

The Demon King: *rolls eyes* and that it is within my birthright to not only set the standard of what is expected of royalty but maintain it at all times. So in other words…sorry.

Barbatos: very good, Your Majesty.

MC: it’s cool. Also, I don’t mind visiting you at the castle. Just don’t put me in a collar, please.

The Demon King, blushing: very well, little human. I’ll try to compose myself from now on. The same goes for you, sorcerer. I hope the gifts my son provided you are to your liking.

Solomon: very much so, Your Highness. Pegasus blood is especially rare to come by and will do absolute wonders for my spell casting.

Diavolo: let's just hope we haven't sealed our fates with such a gift.

Solomon: rest assured you have nothing to worry about *whispers to MC* when my empire is built, you shall be the first spared.

MC: I call dibs on evil ruler.

Solomon: oh MC, that's the only fun kind of ruler there is.

Diavolo: I heard that.

Barbatos: is there anything you would like to add, Lucifer?

Lucifer, folding his arms: not in the slightest.

MC: please?

Lucifer: …I’m sorry for beating Your Highness at a drinking contest.

MC: and?

Lucifer: and for teasing Di—Diavolo…even if it was hilarious.

MC: that’s as good as it’s gonna get, huh?

Lucifer: I’m the Avatar of Pride. Not the Avatar of Apologizing.

Diavolo, sighing: good enough.

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

*at the House of Lamentation*

Mammon: never again. Not for a million Grimm.

Leviathan: oh, so now you finally have standards.

Satan: crushed under the written word. An ironic fate indeed.

Belphegor: you doing alright there, Beel?

Beelzebub: so many splinters *shivers* I…don’t wanna talk about it.

Asmodeus: I can't believe I was knocked out a window. Thank goodness my perfect skin wasn't scratched or scarred. Poor Solomon, though. A fall like that would've broken every bone in his body...and it did! Good thing he knows magic.

Belphegor: though, isn’t this all technically MC’s fault?

Leviathan: hey, yeah! I can’t believe they just went off with Lord Diavolo and Barbatos and left us like that!

Mammon: I say we torture em’!

Asmodeus: ooh, how about we tie them up in pretty pink ribbons!

Mammon: and make em’ wear a cute, frilly outfit.

Asmodeus: with a tail!

Mammon: and those fluffy cat ears!

Satan: go on.

Belphegor: wait, what do any of those things have to do with torture?

Asmodeus and Mammon: torture what now?

Beelzebub, shaking his head: can we please just get some food and never speak of this moment ever again?

Mammon: and may we also never, ever, ever attend or throw another party for the Demon King.

Belphegor: agreed.

*text notification goes off*

Asmodeus: oh, Lucifer sent a message to the chat. It says, "All of you please make your way towards the castle. The king would like to...throw us an apology party."

Everyone: *groans*

Mammon: welp, spoke too soon. Yet think about it this way, at least we're immortal, right?

Leviathan: Mammon, shut up.

[orange-waterfalls]

This Is Love

Darkiplier x gn!reader

A/N: OH BOY it’s been a while, kids! God! I’ll be honest, only wrote this because I couldn’t focus on any of my other writing projects so I just. Darkiplier! Angst! Fluff! You know how it is. I listened to this song on repeat and thought about Dark and next thing I knew I wrote this. Some blood, just a nosebleed. It’s an accident. It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine but ya work through it. 

Not beta read. I didn’t even go through and make sure it was linear or made sense. Enjoy lmao. And Happy Pride, everyone.

word count: 2.0k 

“Where the FUCK is my GODDAMN CANE?!” You flinched as Darkiplier’s voice rang out through the mansion. You didn’t know where the cane was, but you wish you did, if only to get the entity to calm down. He’d been especially irritated recently, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the date with Mark. Maybe it was how nobody was listening to him. Maybe it was Wilford. Just Wilford being himself.

You didn’t know. You didn’t care all that much, and decided not talking to him would be the best move. In case you said something stupid to piss him off more. Which you often did on purpose because you knew he’d never do anything about ir. You did text Bing, asking if he knew where the cane was. If anyone was dumb enough to take it, it’d be him. Or Wilford, of course.

“Jesus Lord, that man is angry,” Mr. Iplier wheezed nervously. He walked up to the chair you were sitting in and rested his arm on the back, leaning on it.

“Yeah… know why?” You asked.

��I mean, he’s just been annoyed by everything. I don’t think I’m annoying. I think I’m perfect,” You rolled your eyes at him, “but maybe he just needs to de-stress somehow.”

“Somehow,” You repeated.

“You know, spa day, exercise, read a goddamn book, something,” He tapped his fingers on the chair for a moment, “You could help.”

“Pardon?” You looked up at him.

“You’re not that bad, at least not in his eyes.” Mark explained.

“Wow. ‘Not that bad’. Greatest compliment I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.” You deadpanned.

“Don’t you sass me. Sassing is Mark Iplier’s job.” He pointed a finger in your face. You acted as though you were going to bite it and he pulled it back with a smirk. “Could you try? At least a little?”

“Uggggghhhhhhh, fiiiiiiiine.”

“Try not to get killed?”

“I make no promises I can’t keep.”

“Alright… Thank you, you’re the best!” He ruffled your hair a little and walked away.

“Better than you at least!”

“Don’t push it!” You smiled and jumped when you heard another yell from Dark. You groaned and stood up, making your way to Dark’s office.

You walked into the room and were immediately greeted by a wine glass being thrown directly next to your head. You looked at it without emotion, watching the wine trail down the wall. You looked at Dark with an eyebrow raised, static starting to fill your ears. He was breathing heavily, his hair was a goddamn mess, and his suit was torn at the shoulder. 

“Wow, nice welcoming committee.” You scoffed.

“Shut. Up,” He growled. You slammed the door behind you, making him startle a bit. You smiled.

“Why don’t you make me?” You blinked innocently. He stalked over and stared at you. 

He had that look that he got whenever he tried to intimidate you or anyone else. It worked the first few times, but you’ve since realized that, when it comes to you, he’s all bark and no bite. So, you just smiled at him. His scowl faded a little.

“... go away,” He took a few steps back and turned away from you. You hummed, pretending to think about it.

“No,” You said.

“I could kill you,” He warned.

“Do it then, pussy,” You mocked. He took a deep, calming breath.

“Leave,” He demanded.

“Found your cane yet?” You asked. He seemed confused for a moment, his controlled facade failing for half a second. It was long enough that you noticed it.

“No,” He hesitated to answer.

“Then, no. I won’t,” You walked further into the room, stepping over broken wood and glass, and sitting in a love seat in front of the fireplace. 

When he approached, you settled down into it to show him you weren’t leaving. He sighed, understanding the message. He stared at you, and you stared back defiantly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and put a hand on his hip. You waited to see what he would do. Eventually, he walked into the corner and grabbed the broom. You grinned smugly as the great Darkiplier began to clean up his mess of wood, glass, wine, and ash.

“Move your feet.” He instructed, poking your foot with the broom so you’d move them. You stared at him. He gave you another look, this time a warning-mother sort of look, so you pouted and lifted your feet.

“You’re gonna have to vacuum this rug.” You informed him as he picked up the bigger shards of glass.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed.

“You wouldn’t have to if you’d just… like, chill.” You looked at him as he stood back up.

“Wow. ‘Chill’. Never even thought of that.” He whacked your head with the business end of the broom and you held it.

“I’m serious, dude. Mark’s anger issues are objectively worse than yours but he doesn’t break shit.” You crossed your arms after rubbing the top of your head for a bit.

“Well, I’m not Mark, am I?” He gritted out.

“No, you’re not, because Mark isn’t such a petty little bitch.” You claimed. He slammed his hands on the arms of the chair and glared down at you. You curled in on yourself a little. Static filled your head, and it hurt, but you wouldn’t dare move to cover your ears.

OK, maybe you should stop with the teasing.

You blinked rapidly as you felt something dripping from your nose. He looked down for a moment. He let go of the chair and walked to the other side of the room. He continued to sweep. You wiped the water from your eyes (no, you were not CRYING, thank you very much) and felt under your nose. Pulling your hand back, you see the blood. You wince a little at it, and try to wipe it with the sleeves of your (technically Wil’s) jacket and accidentally let out a tiny, pathetic little noise of complaint when it wouldn’t stop. Dark sighed, his shoulders sagging from where he was kneeling on the ground. 

“There’s toilet paper in the bathroom. Just don’t get any blood on my chair.” He turned to look at you. You flicked your eyes from the velvet chair back up to Dark. His eyes widened and he stared. He pointed at you. “Don’t.”

You maintained eye contact as you wiped the sleeve on the chair. His eye twitched. You just smiled and stood up, walking towards the door.

“Thank you, Dark!” You said sweetly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. He stared at the closed door with a blank face. His mouth twitched into a smile after a little bit, and he chuckled quietly. He sat back on the rug, laughing to himself, thinking of you. He looked over at the chair you’d sat in, the blood on the arm and on the rug. He stopped smiling.

You groaned as you tipped your own head back after shoving toilet paper up the side that was bleeding. Your head was pounding a bit from the fucking noise Darkiplier was emitting from his body. You didn’t know he could do that. You didn’t think he knew he could do that. It hurt though. Not too much, but it did.

Granted, you maybe should’ve refrained from pushing the buttons of a demonic entity who was already pissed, but that was part of the fun. At least now you knew what was going too far. That was one good thing that came out of this situation.

You jumped when you heard a knock at the door.

“Occupied!” You yelled. They knocked again and you groaned. “Occupied!!!” Another hard knock and you stood up, throwing the toilet paper away, causing your nose to continue dripping.

“What the fuck do you-” You started. You stopped halfway through because of Darkiplier standing at the door. His hair was neat and his suit seemed to be fixed. You looked at him, brows furrowed. He quirked an eyebrow at you. “... may I help you?”

“Looks like you’re the one who needs help.” He starts to smirk as he talks. You frown and squint at him.

“I was doing fine until someone interrupted.” You wipe your nose with your hand, which does nothing except spread the blood across your face.

“Oh, and who was that?” He asks. You scoff and turn back to the stool you’d been sitting on. You plop yourself back down, put more toilet paper up your nose (to Dark’s disgust), pinch your nose and lean your head back. Dark frowns at you.

“What?” You ask with a nasally voice.

“You’re doing it wrong.” He says simply.

“Oh, am I?” You roll your eyes. He takes a few small steps forward. You glare at him, so he stops.

“You’re supposed to lean forward, not back.” He explains.

“I think I’d know how to--” You start. But he’s already right next to you, adjusting your position himself. He straightens your back, tilts your head forward a bit, and grabs more toilet paper to pinch your nose with. You do it, hesitantly.

“5 to 10 minutes.” He says and kneels on the floor next to you.

“How do you know?” You frown.

“I just do.” He shrugs.

“Hm.” You look away, suddenly realizing how close he was and getting a little uncomfortable. “Was it Dr. Ip-”

“I’m sorry for this.” He said at the same time. You stare at him. He stares back. You both look like you don’t want to have this conversation. Ever.

“... um.” Your voice wavered.

“I’m sorry for causing your nosebleed.” He repeats.

“It’s… fine-” You start to laugh nervously.

“It’s not. I should have better control.” He admits. You feel your ears get hot and you really, really don’t like this.

“You didn’t hurt me. Not really. It’s just a nosebleed.” You try. 

“But it could be something more than a nosebleed next time…” He counters.

“Then… we’ll deal with it.” You start to get frustrated with the apology.

“I don’t…” He starts to raise his voice. You go to cover your ears. He looks at you like a kicked puppy and you immediately lower your hand. “I don’t want to deal with it, I want to prevent it.” He looks down at the floor. You look away again.

“Then… chill.” You shrug. He blinks and looks back up at you.

“Chill?” He scoffs.

“Yeah. Massage, spa, read a book, listen to music, just… chill.” You suggest all the things Mark had said earlier.

“Hm.” He taps his knee with a finger. “Would you like to read… with me?”

“Ehhhh, I’m not really the reading type.” 

“We can listen to your music while I read, then.”

“I don’t think you’d like my music.”

“I doubt that somehow.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He chuckles softly at you. He stares at you while you try to avoid direct eye contact. More of your face starts to heat up. “WHAT.” You yell, making him jump.

“What?!” He asks.

“You’re staring at me!” You accuse.

“Nothing, no, I just…” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing at you.

“What?” You ask, getting anxious.

“... I... love you…” He grits out.

“AM I GONNA FUCKING DIE?!?” You shouted.

“CAN I NOT JUST EXPRESS MY AFFECTION FOR YOU THROUGH WORDS?” He barked.

“NO, YOU CAN’T, BECAUSE YOU DON’T.” You crossed your arms.

“Fine, I just won’t say it then.” He basically pouted and turned away from you.

“Say it again, I’ll be good this time!” You pleaded. He didn’t look at you. “Pwease? Pwease Dawk?” He turned back to you and sighed.

“... I love you.” He muttered.

“One more time for the road?” You gave him a cheeky grin.

“I. Love. You.” He said slowly and loudly.

“... love you too, Dark.” You removed the toilet paper from your face, since your nose had stopped bleeding. You tossed it in the trashcan and smiled at Dark.

He shifted forward a bit, putting a hand on the back of your head. He brought yours forward until your foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes and you both just stayed like that for a bit.

“So… This is love, I guess.” You said. He laughed.

“I guess.” He teased.

“Not perfect.” You took the hand that wasn’t holding your head.

“Not bad either.” He entwined both of your fingers.

“I love you.” You told him again.

“I love you.” He whispered.

--

“Ayo, Dark!”

“What?”

“Found your cane.”

“What? Where?!”

“Literally on the mantle.”

“God fucking dammit.”

“You’re a moron, Dark.”

“I know...”

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt/Background: After turning yourself in to the government following the events of CA:TWS, they lock you up for the crimes you committed during your time at Hydra. Spending years there until Captain America got you on parole during the blip to help fight Thanos. Now, after doing community service acts and helping the broken society, when they give the new Captain America the shield, you’re thrown back into a life you didn’t want.

Word Count: 2058

Reader: Female

Warning: parole officers? canon level violence, john walker

Author’s Note: im being lazy and not writing rn but i have a stock pile of fics so get ready for shitty posts :p

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

=====

Once you get onto the plane, you don’t hold back your emotions. The fight was enough but how Walker talked to Sam and Bucky on the car ride over sent you over the edge. You had to admit, the kid had good intentions but there was something about him that was off.

You don’t even wait for his private jet to lift off before turning to him and pinning him against the nearest wall. Your forearm was laying across his chest while the other was hovering over the knife clipped onto your hip. His managers and friend stand up, rushing to try to pry you off of him but he raises a hand to stop them. “Who the hell do you think you fucking are, huh?”

“Captain America.” He simply responds, looking at down you with a cocky smile. You let out a scoff, the audacity of this man. “Look, I didn’t know that you knew them.”

“Yes, you did.” You exclaim while your forearm digs into his chest, “You read my parole reports, it shows where I spend my time and who I talk to, Bucky and Sam being the main two who I interact with. They’re my friends and you’re using me as a pawn. Steve wouldn’t have done that, Captain America wouldn’t have done that.”

“You talk about looking up to him but you’re nothing like him. You throw around ‘brother’ like it means nothing, you have no idea what those two have gone through with Steve. You hold the shield like it’s a toy and using it to get what you want.” Your voice is menacing low and you knew if you still had your parole officer that he would be scolding you for it.

“Captain America stood up for the little guys but you’re just using it as a title, abusing it to act like the hero you tried to be before. You’re a fucking joke.” You release him and walk away. The air in the room felt tense as you plop down on the chair closest to the exit, furthest away from his management team who didn’t know what just happened.

“If you think I’m going to stand by your side after how you just treated my friends, you’re dead fucking wrong.” You shake your head and lean forward in your seat.

He lets out a chuckle, taking a step towards you with his hands fisted by his side. “You’re going to help me if I say you are. I say the words and you’re locked back in the goddamn cell where you belong. Remember who brought you here in the first place.”

“Hey, John, calm down.” Hoskins finally buds in. Walker scoffs and shakes his head, following him to join the rest of their team.

You shift your eyes to the floor, knowing he’s right. The power the government is giving their new Captain is a desperate attempt to give hope to those after the Blip. It’s going straight to his head and you knew it was going to get worse in the long run.

The rest of the flight is awkward. The tension never settling even if Walker acts like nothing just happened. Hoskins was keeping a close eye on you like you were going to bounce back to your Hydra days and take out everyone on the plane. To be fair, you wanted to but you weren’t stupid and you didn’t want to give him another reason to send you back.

Once the plane touches down, you’re out the door. The group was barely out of the seats before they could see you disappear into the airport. Haling a cab and taking it back to the apartment they were renting for you, changing out of your gear and plopping down onto the bed.

The events of the day finally collapse down onto you. This situation was going to be a lot harder than you originally thought. Walker explained it as just one mission to see where the Flag Smashers were taking the stolen vaccines and you would be on your way. “Free at last” to use his words but now you were roped in for the long haul.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look of betrayal on Bucky’s face either. He had confided in you about how he felt about the new Captain and how lost he felt. If Steve wasn’t right about Sam then what the hell was wrong with Bucky?

Before you realize it, tears were streaming down your cheeks. You knew it was too early to try to reach out to them so you decide to give them time. They were still processing their interactions with the new Captain and the new information about the Flag Smashers being super-soldiers.

If you were going to have to work with Walker, you were going to have to figure out a plan. Racking your brain for ideas, one comes to mind that would be risky. It would be worth it, though. Staring up at the ceiling, you start strategizing a way you could pull this off. You were one of Hydra’s best agents so hopefully, this would be easy. After going against your original thought and shooting Sam a quick text, you slowly drift off asleep.

=====

Your leg bounces under the table as you stare at the clock above the door. It was half-past seven and the breakfast rush was winding down. The diner was slowly emptying, leaving a hand full of tables with families and friends enjoying their meal. The waitress comes up to your booth, standing there until you notice her.

“Ready to order yet, hun’?” The nice older lady questions, breaking your gaze from the entrance to her. You shake your head no before turning back to the door. She gives you a sad smile before looking down at her watch, “It’s been almost twenty minutes, sweetie, are you sure your friends are still coming?”

You nod quickly, no matter what kind of circumstances the two soldiers would never stand you up. Their hearts were too kind for that. “I was just a bit early, I’m kind of nervous.” You shyly admit, sending her a smile.

“Well, I’m bringing you something to eat at least,” She commands, you open your mouth to reject but she cuts you off, “on the house.” She gives you a firm look before walking off to the back.

Right as she disappears into the kitchen, the bell of the diner dings. Your head snaps to it and you can’t help the large smile that appears on your face at the sight of the duo walking in. The two immediately see you since you placed yourself right near the door.

Sam sends you back a smile while Bucky just eyes you down. You were wearing a simple sweater and pants while they were in their usual civilian gear, a ballcap and jacket. You couldn’t help but ogle at how good Bucky looked in the blue Hently you two bought when he first came to Brooklyn.

They slip into the booth, their broad figures barely fitting on the small seat. Sam elbows Bucky as he tries to get comfortable but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Morning.” You try to make conversation. “How was the rest of your day yesterday?”

“He got arrested.” Sam bluntly says making your jaw drop. “He missed his check-in with the shrink.”

“I told you not to tell her.” Bucky makes out through clenched teeth, he just shrugs in response. You go to scold him but he holds a steady hand out, “You can yell at me all you want later, what do you want? We don’t have much time.” Your heart drops with how aggressive he’s being towards you.

“I want to help you.” You announce, ignoring Bucky’s eye roll as he remembers who you’re working with. He goes to tell you off just like he told Walker but you start rambling before he could utter a word, “I know it’s not the ideal situation but Walker wants me on his team. If I could earn his trust and figure out what their plans are, I can report back to you two.”

“And how do we not know this is a setup?” Sam points out, leaning forward on the table as Bucky looks around the diner for any sign of said Captain America, “They could be listening right now, they still have you under lock and key.”

You gleam at the mention of that, realizing that you haven’t told them the good news. “Not anymore.” You extend your leg out from under the table for Bucky to see your naked ankle. “Walker pulled some strings to get me off my parole earlier.”

A look of realization comes across Sam’s face once he pieces everything together. He knew how mad you were about the new Captain America, how you helped him and Bucky against the Smashers instead of the other two, and how you didn’t know anything about Bucky getting arrested made sense.

“So, you made a deal with the devil.” Bucky snarkily questions, a look of disappointment on his face.

You let out a scoff at his words, “I did what I had to do, James. Not all of us were lucky enough to get pardoned.” You spit back, tired of how he was acting. “He tricked me, told me it was just one simple favor to repay him. Now, he wants me to be a part of his team to take down the Flag Smashers. Told me if I didn’t help that he would send me back to jail and it would reset everything I had accomplished in the last five years.”

Bucky’s eyes soften at your confession, hanging his head in embarrassment at his assumptions. The waitress comes up and sets the small plate of food down in front of you, giving an awkward smile to the boys before walking off.

You let out a sigh, feeling bad for yelling at him. He was being a dick but that didn’t mean you had to be one back to him. He was going through a lot and this was the last thing he needed.

Grabbing the fork, you stare down at the pancakes. “You don’t have to forgive me or anything but just understand where I’m coming from, please.”

They share a look as they silently communicate. Bucky narrows his eyes and Sam tilts his head at him. You look between them as you try to figure out what’s going on.

“I can’t read your mind, cyborg. Use your words.” Sam finally spits out then elbows him one more time, “Will you please scoot over? I’m suffocating over here!”

Bucky sighs and rolls his eyes at his friend. He gets up out of the booth and slips in next to you, using his larger form to push you closer to the window. Your eyes widen in surprise as he slings his arm to rest behind your head. He then takes the extra fork and stabs it into your hashbrowns.

Sam lets out an awe as he watches the two of you eat from your plate, “Don’t you two look so cute.”

“Shut up, Sam.” You both demand at the same time. He raises his hands up in defense, leaning back in the booth with a smug smile on his face. The two of you easily fall into conversation, catching up on things and giggling at the little jokes he was making. Suddenly, after a few moments of silence as the two of you enjoy the meal, you remember what Sam mentioned earlier.

Bucky lets out a little yelp when you send a swift smack to the back of his head, making the hashbrowns he was about to eat fall off his fork. “What the hell was that for?”

“For getting arrested, are you kidding me, James? Do you know what could’ve happened to you? I swear to God, James Buchanan Barnes, you will be the death of me—“ You continue to scold while Sam lets out a booming laugh. Mad at him for being so careless, you poke and prod at his chest but stop when you notice the expression on his face. Your heart can’t handle the way he pulls out his puppy dog eyes and his pouted lip. “Oh, don’t pull that shit with me.”

_____

untitled tfawts fic: @crowleysqueenofhell @mischiefmanaged71 @thewinterrbucky @lizajane3 @ahahafudge @spookycereal-s @a-girl-who-loves-disney @kittengirl998 @ sebby-staan

[thevirgodoll]

Hi, how can I improve my conversation skills and be more charismatic? I’ve been so shy my whole life and never used to talk to anyone, now I want to make a change. I love your blog so much💕

The Charismatic

Charisma holds weight in the world of socializing. Some people have it naturally, some may never achieve it, because they do not have what it takes. Everyone can become charismatic.

Charismatic people are alluring and enthralling. You can tell the difference between an individual with charisma and an individual without it. The room is absorbed with their presence. To be charismatic you must achieve a level of confidence and be free of all cares at all times. You must be self assured in every social situation. Charisma isn’t something I can necessarily model for you because you have to do the self improvement it takes to get there. Become confident, own the room, and make others feel important. It’s a simple formula that many people get wrong.

I get told I am charismatic so here are my tips.

Posture is everything. Shoulders up, back, and down. Do it everytime before you walk in somewhere. You will never see people of high stature walk with poor posture.

Have a self assured mindset.

Social Skills

Charisma and being sociable is all about how you make people feel.

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
– Maya Angelou

You only get one chance to make the best first impression and this is actually true.

•Take the initiative. Engage the other person in conversation. Not dominating, there is a difference.

•Use the other person’s name when speaking to make a good first impression.

•Don’t try to be the next so and so. Be the most enthralling version of you possible. This is very important because you can be literally any version of yourself that you want to, but being someone else will be way too obvious.

•Speak with clarity and enunciate your words. Mumbling will get you nowhere. Someone that is sociable and fun to speak to is not going to be remembered if they speak underneath their breath or become meek.

-> In that same grain, don’t speak too quickly. Slow down your thoughts and let the words flow naturally. Force yourself to pause before speaking and pause between speaking — for a few seconds, not astronomically long...

-> Maintain eye contact when speaking with someone. It makes the other person feel important and as if you care about what they’re saying and are paying close attention.

-> Keep your composure. Do not fidget about while having a conversation, as this will be a giveaway of anxiety.

-> Body language is everything... Don’t fold your arms, turn your body away... non verbal cues such as that can be a turnoff to others. Read the other person’s body language as well so you know when to wrap up.

-> In order to create a sense of warmth in your conversations, be sure to smile.

Don’t: Overdo it. When you smile, be authentic.

•Small talk is key to master. Whether you like it or not.

On the flip side, listening gives you the power. If you are not a fantastic listener, you will not impress anyone. Your goal is to be a master of conversation.

Abandon your ego. We all have egos. If your ego is huge, check it at the door.

-> Listen without fixing. Ask questions for clarification, mirror words for understanding, and validate the other person.

-> Let the other person finish. It is absolutely inconsiderate to interrupt, no matter how badly you would like to. You ruin the art of charisma if you interrupt the other person.

-> You want to ask open ended questions and maintain interest in whoever you are speaking to. This creates an environment for active listening, and it breaks the ice which makes both you and the other party comfortable.

Examples:

“Why....”

“Tell me more about...”

“How did that happen?”

“I wonder if...?”

Don’t check your cell phone. Don’t look around the room. Your goal is to make this person feel important.

Social Situations:

•If someone is upset with you, don’t be overly apologetic and kissing butt. Understand how THEY feel first. Listen. Only explain a position when they’re open to hearing it. Make the OTHER PERSON speak about THEIR emotions. That is the goal.

•If someone is rude to you, ask them to repeat themselves. Most people will rephrase it nicer. “Excuse me, what was that?”

“Pardon?”

“Can you please repeat what you said?”

Both said in a genuinely confused and calm tone.

•Never argue via text or social media. Never subtweet or air out your business over social media.

•If someone is cute, hilarious, or funny, tell them. This makes them want to speak to you. But be genuine not fake.

Persona

•Become easy going. Your way is not the only way.

•Criticism is welcome. Listen to what is being said and accept what is being said. Never be defensive.

•A positive attitude wins first versus a negative Nancy.

•Be confident, but not as though you are inherently superior to others (even if it may be true).

•Politeness. Stay kind when you are upset. Learn how to effectively wrap up a conversation.

“It was a pleasure speaking with you.”

“It was great catching up with you!”

“Nice to see you again!”

•Speak with conviction. Use words like “I am sure” vs. tentative words like “I think, I hope and I feel.”

•Humorous. Know how to play the crowd and tell a humorous story. Be relevant and know what’s in the know.

Examples:

Negative: Regina George, Mean Girls — she uses her charisma to manipulate individuals and maintain status quo. She is confident, sure of herself, yet insecure deep down. She is a textbook narcissist and mean girl, but it works because she is a master of socialization. See how she makes other people feel important when interacting with her. She uses some of the tips I have given here.

Positive: Naomi, Wolf of Wall Street — see how Jordan is hanging on to Naomi’s every word? She is giving him open body language and smiling with her mouth as well as eyes. A seductive feminine character.

-> Jordan’s speech, also showcases his charisma

Positive: James Bond

Celebrities:

Oprah Winfrey

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 13/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Notes:

I want to thank everyone so much for following along on this tale, I truly enjoyed creating a tale within in a tale and I enjoyed the comments every week about the meddling Yenta Henry. I think I will never ever look at this fic again without seeing gif's of Beverly Goldberg. It made my day every week. You guys really are the greatest cheerleaders ever. I love our fandom.

Chapter 13: Happily Ever After

Emma stared at Killian; her mouth slightly open. “Is that so, brother?” Liam was speaking but Emma couldn’t take her eyes off the man beside her.

“Aye.” He said, his eyes locked on hers, a tentative smile on his face as he turned to his brother.

“We have food, would you care to join us, there’s plenty. Killian always cooks for a family of six when he makes food.”

His brother laughed. “That’s because he always eats enough for four.” He turned back to his brother. “I would hate to impose.”

“And miss the chance to hear all about Killian from his brother. I insist.” Emma demanded, leading the way back to the dining table.

Emma didn’t miss the look shared between the brothers, nor could she quiet the pounding in her heart at Killian’s introduction of her as his girlfriend. She was trying to pretend that everything was normal, that his admission didn’t cause her so much joy that she wanted to launch herself into his arms and kiss him silly.

Emma knew that this was a huge step for Killian. They agreed when they started dating in secret that they wouldn’t label it, it wasn’t easy, she wanted more than anything to be the one to break that wall with him, but she knew she needed to give him space.

They hadn’t defined anything with Henry or their friends. They simply spent their time together. Killian came for dinner most evenings, they would take Henry to the park or out sailing. But now…

He called her his girlfriend. Would this change things with their friends and family too?

“So can I ask, when did this pleasant surprise begin?” Liam brought her out of her thoughts.

Emma laughed and her eyes met Killian’s, she shrugged. “Emma and I have been seeing each other for a few months, actually.”

“I’m happy for you.” His brother said sincerely. “Emma, you must be made of magic if you could turn this man around. I did not think I would see the day.”

She chuckled, her eyes glassy, trying to avoid Killian’s gaze. “He only dates me for my son. I swear they are the same person sometimes.”

“Emma and Henry are very special.” He said softly beside her.

The dinner with Liam stirred emotions in Emma, listening to the stories about Killian and Liam’s childhood, their adventures in the Navy together, things that Emma had never known about Killian Jones she soaked up like a sponge. His interactions with his brother only made her care even more deeply for the man next to her.

When Liam announced his departure, Emma stood from the table and accepted a hug from the man. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you, Emma. Perhaps you can convince him to come and visit us in Maine. Elsa misses his face, and we would love to take Henry sailing.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered jokingly.

“It was a pleasure meeting you officially.”

He followed his brother out of the room and Emma dropped down to her seat, adrenaline suddenly taking over, tides of change were coming.

~*~

“Elsa does miss you.” His brother said as he placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Aye, I’ll work on being less of a stranger.”

“I’m happy for you brother. She’s lovely.”

“I’m over the moon for the woman, I can’t deny that. Sometimes I feel like a lovesick puppy dog just because she smiled at me. It’s all quite ridiculous.”

“Sounds like you’re in love.” He said with a rise in his brow. “You know you owe me a hundred dollars.”

“I what?”

“When you told me you’d never have another relationship, I called you a liar, you bet me a hundred dollars.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You had a lot of rum that night, brother.” He stepped through the front door. “I prefer large bills.”

“Out you go.” He lightly pushed him out the door. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Killian closed the door and exhaled as he leaned against it. He walked slowly back to the dining room, stopping in the arch to stare at the woman sitting at the table in front of him.

“I hope I didn’t overstep.” He said softly as she made eye contact with him. “We didn’t actually discuss that change in status.”

She stood up from her spot at the table and walked over to him quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips greedily seeking his. Killian barely had time to think much less react as he took a step back, colliding with the wall behind him. “Woah love, we have all night.”

“We could get interrupted again.” She moaned against his ear, and he couldn’t stifle his laughter.

“Do you think we should talk…” He let the question hang in the air and she pulled away from him.

“Unless it’s filthy, dirty, or full of those innuendos you’re so good at providing at the most inappropriate time, we can talk later.” Her mouth continued its assault on his neck, her fingers making quick work on the buttons of his shirt.

“You did hear me earlier with Liam, didn’t you?”

She pulled her face away from his neck, her hands resting on his cheeks. “Killian, you’ve been texting me for months telling me all the things you were going to do to me when we were alone. And now, your girlfriendwould really like to experience them.”

“So, you’re ok with what I said.”

“Are you having a panic attack now that you’ve said it?” She asked him, her face full of concern.

“No, I meant it, I just wanted to make sure that you were ok.”

She laughed. “Babe, you’ve been my boyfriend in my head from the moment I laid eyes on you, leather jacket, sexy accent…” She ran her hands through his hair. “The sex hair.”

“Sex hair? I beg your pardon.”

“You always look like you’ve just been fucked. It’s sexy as hell.” She growled into his ear, her teeth nipping at his lobe. “And I’ve always wanted to be the cause of it looking like that.”

“Alright, you have my attention, love.” He reached down, grasping her by her thighs and wrapping them around his waist as he spun himself around, dropping her onto the counter beside him.

“Do I finally get a ride on the Killian Jones express?” She teased, his mouth sucking at the pulse of her neck.

“Express?” His mouth pressed together in indignation. “It’s an insult to insinuate that a night with me ends expediently.” Her head fell back in laughter, and he frowned, pulling her hips hard against his groin, causing her to look up suddenly. “I intend to make all those naughty little dreams of yours a reality tonight.”

“Who said anything about naughty dreams, Jones?”

“Shall I retrieve the text messages?” He reached for the phone at the end of the counter as she grabbed his hand, pulling it back to her hip. His eyes grew dark as he dipped his head to her ear, growling against her skin. “Enough talking, I think it’s fine time I had my way with you, woman.”

“Promises, promises.” She said, her voice deep, full of all the want and desire he could ever hope to have.

As he lifted her from the counter, her lips soft yet inviting again his, he carried her to his bed. The first time with Emma was different than his previous conquests, times he spent with women who only captured his attention and not his heart.

But the moment their bodies connected in a mess of sweat and limbs, Emma’s name falling from his lips as she screamed into the open void of his apartment, he knew that he would never let her go.

As they lay together in the dark, her head against his chest, her fingers twirling the hair on his chest, Killian knew he was finally ready to step out of the shadow he had been living in and move forward with his life.

“Is my sex hair satisfying enough for you?” He teased as her nails scraped along his scalp.

She bit her lip and smiled. “Maybe after a few more times.”

He kissed her again, pressing her back into the mattress as she giggled against him. “I think we should talk to Henry.” He announced as he stared down at her.

She smiled softly. “I’m sure he suspects something already. You practically spend every moment with us.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Just stating fact.” She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolled onto his side. “But I agree, we need to talk to Henry.” He brushed her hair out of her face, smiling up at her.

“You saved me.” He whispered. “Meeting you and Henry changed my life.”

“That’s the orgasm speaking.” She teased and he felt the emotion pour out of him the way her eyes sparkled as she joked with him. He’d never felt so at ease in all his life. It was as if she was made only for him. He couldn’t help the smile that formed, hearing Henry’s voice in his head.

That’s because she’s your true love.

“What?” She asked, a curious expression on her face.

“I love you.” It was only three words, but they were the most important three words he had ever uttered. He never thought he would speak those words to another woman again. Yet when they left his mouth, it was as if his entire world made sense.

She pushed up on her elbows, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. “I love you too.” She breathed against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“For what, love?”

“For trusting me with your heart and opening up your life to Henry and I.”

He kissed her with every emotion that was building inside of him, rolling her over onto her back as he drove into her once more.

~*~

“So, kid, is your mom dating this Killian guy now?”

“Yeah, they’re trying to keep it quiet, but I’m pretty sure it’s happening.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I know when mom’s happy, and she’s really happy when Killian’s around.”

His dad grunted. “Yeah but it’s not just about your mom’s happiness, I mean your opinion matters too, kid. If you don’t like the guy, that should factor in.”

“I love Killian, I’m the one that set them up after all.” Henry replied with a huge grin.

“Oh.”

“Look, I’m gonna be really honest with you dad, because Killian told me that the only way I’m going to feel better about you and me is if I tell you the truth.”

“You talked to him about me?”

“Before you go getting all jealous, let me just say this.” He paused and his dad sat back at the table. “I love you, you’re my dad. And you’re always going to be my dad, but I don’t like coming over here.”

His dad frowned angrily. “Kid…”

“Wait, I don’t like coming over here because I feel like you only want me here because it gets me away from mom or attracts those women who want to pretend like they’re my mom.” His dad started to speak, and Henry pressed on quickly. “If I come over here, I want it to be because you want to hear about my day, or you missed me, or you want to hang out at the park. And you gotta be there, you can’t keep disappearing on these business trips that have nothing at all to do with business. Either I’m your priority or an acquaintance you see once a year. Your choice.”

“Is this you speaking, or your mom?”

“See, you can’t keep saying things like that. I’m almost twelve years old, I’m not six anymore dad, you can’t keep lying to me and not expect there to be consequences. I love you and I want to spend time with you, but I’m not a pawn in your game to get back at mom.”

“Henry, I’m not trying to get back at your mom.”

“Maybe not, but you see her as the bad guy in this and all I see is my mom and dad. I don’t want to make you the bad guy in my life. But you don’t make it easy.”

His dad exhaled. “I’m not good at this dad thing, am I?”

“Not really.” He said with a laugh.

“I’m never gonna be able to handle things like your mom does, she organizes everything, knows what she’s supposed to do or not do. Even Killian seems to understand you better than I do. I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be, kid.”

“I don’t need you to be good at it. I just need you to be my dad.”

Henry felt relieved as his dad drove him home that evening. Killian was right, talking to him about how he felt made him feel better. All the anger and disappointment he had been holding inside about his dad had only led to him resenting his time with him.

He knew it would take time, and he was sure that his dad would not always succeed in his promise to do better, but at least he wanted to try. That was all he could ask for right now.

When he returned home, his mother was acting odd. Fidgety almost. He asked her if something had happened while he was gone but she assured him that everything was alright. When he asked if he could visit Killian, she told him that he had some errands to run and would be over for dinner.

“How was your dad?”

Henry bit his lip, he hated this part, coming home from one parent and having to decide which information to share with the other one. It was honestly why he found confiding in Killian just made more sense to him. “Fine. I got to try that new restaurant down by the water. Good fries.”

“That’s nice. So, things went ok?”

“Yup.”

The front door opened, and Henry was relieved when Killian walked through the door with a bag of groceries in his arms. It wasn’t exactly a new thing; Killian had often bought his mom groceries for dinner. However, walking in the door unannounced was not something he did. Usually he knocked, his mom would answer, they would act surprised that the other was stopping by. It was a game he let them play.

“I found everything to make the pasta, but they didn’t have that wine in stock that you love so much, but I got that one we had last week at the diner after work when...”

His mother cleared her throat beside him, and Henry had to conceal a grin from his face. Who did they think they were fooling with any of this? “Looks who made it home.” She said, her eyes narrowed in his direction.

Killian paused in his steps and turned toward them. “Lad, I didn’t think you’d be home for another hour.” He pointedly stared at his mother.

“Neal dropped him off early.” Henry just shook his head and continued reading his book. “So, I was thinking we could talk to him, about that thing you wanted to talk to him about.” Henry slowly put his book in his lap. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

“What’s going on with you two? You’re acting weird.”

Killian came and joined them on the couch, his mother scooting over to allow him room next to her. “So, Killian and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

They looked so serious, in fact, Killian looked like he may vomit at any moment, his mother was almost green around the edges. “Are you having another baby?”

“What?” His mother exclaimed loudly. “Oh God no, why would you think that? Of course, I’m not having a baby, Henry.” She stuttered. “Not that that’s a terrible thing, I just, not now, and…”

Killian reached over and put his hand on hers. “Henry, what your mother is trying to say…”

“You’re dating.” Henry added quickly, putting them out of their misery.

“Wait what?” His mother replied, her face sincerely shocked.

“Mom, everyone knows.”

“How, we’ve been so discrete?”

“Really? With the way you two look at each other, Killian practically trips over himself to help you do the dishes just so you can go to the other room and kiss.”

“Wait, everyone knows?” Killian finally joined the conversation.

“Yeah, Will and I have a joke about it actually. That’s why he always says he’s going home to do the dishes with Belle.”

“Oh my God.”

“Look, it’s cool. I love you both, I’m happy you guys finally figured it out, and having it all out in the open will make everything so much easier.” He stood up and kissed his mother on the cheek and patted Killian on the shoulder. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

~*~

“So, you guys just let us carry on and never said a word.”

“Of course, I wasn’t going to bloody scare off the first man you’ve truly seemed happy with. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little sneaking around.” Will reached over and squeezed Belle’s knee, earning a slap on his shoulder from the brunette.

“I’m really happy for both of you.” Belle said softly and Emma saw the exchange between Killian and the woman. It was soft and sincere, and she was happy that Belle continued to be friends with him.

“If Henry hadn’t locked the two of you on that roof we might still be waiting for some sense to be knocked into you.” David joked.

“My brother may be stubborn but once he becomes attached to something, there’s no taking it away from him.” Liam added.

Emma leaned her head on Killian’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. She had everything she could ever have wished for in her life. She felt his lips press against her forehead. “It seems our brothers are enjoying taking the piss out of us.” Emma laughed loudly.

“That’s what family is for.”

~*~

Killian never imagined that his life could change as much as it had in the past year. Emma and Henry had become a vital part of his life. At one point, he had reconciled with the fact that he would spend his life alone, now he felt as if he never had to worry about being on his own again.

Having a teenager was an adjustment in their life. Henry suddenly became more interested in girls and less interested in video games, but he continued his interest in writing and his imagination came in handy when the day arrived that he knew it was time to have the conversation with Liam. His brother had grown fond of Emma and handed over his mother’s ring before he even had the chance to recite the speech Henry had helped him write.

Henry assisted Killian with all the planning, decorating, and gathering of their family and friends. And when he got down on one knee in front of everyone they loved, Henry standing by his side, all his nervousness that had followed him through the planning was gone the moment he looked into her eyes. He knew her answer before she spoke, she was an open book to him, the only answer he needed was the love shining back at him in her eyes.

She was his true love, and he would remain devoted to her until the day he died.

~*~

“What time do you have to be back at the apartment?”

“I told Killian I would be there by 5. I think he’s nervous so I should probably be there before 4, just to be safe.”

“When I married your mom, I threw up right before I walked out.” His father said with a slight chuckle. “He’ll be fine.”

“What time are you picking me up tonight?”

“Take your time, just text me when the festivities are over.”

Henry was excited to get to spend the next few weeks with his dad, they were going on a road trip while his mom and Killian flew to the Caribbean for their honeymoon. Things weren’t always perfect between his mom, dad, and Killian, but they were all trying to be there for Henry, and he appreciated the effort.

Later that evening, his mother dressed in white, Henry held on tightly to her, guiding her up the stairs arm in arm as he walked her toward the roof of Skyline Apartments. Killian barely held it together as he passed her hand to his, tears coming to everyone’s eyes when they spoke their vows. By the time the fireworks exploded over the harbor, with his mother now officially Mrs. Emma Jones, Henry felt like the luckiest kid in the world.

His mother found her happy ending, her true love, and Henry had the adventure of a lifetime. Henry’s adventure became a quest to find his place in his family, and now he had a mother, a father, and the best stepfather he could ask for. A woman who gave everything to motherhood who thought she had lost her chance to find an extraordinary love, a father who learned to love his child more than himself, and a man who thought he was a villain who turned out to be a hero when he opened his heart to possibilities. Henry wouldn’t want his story to end any other way.

~*~

Henry had set sail on the Jolly Roger with his mother and Captain Jones a year prior. They had seen the world, conquered dragons, and been to exotic lands.

Henry finally learned how to sword fight after many lessons between Captain Jones and his mother, he rescued a fair maiden from a sorcerer, earning his first kiss, and learned to sail a ship as grand as the Jolly Roger.

Princess Emma sailed alongside Captain Jones, earning the honorary title Captain Swan from the man who took her under his wing and his crew. True love always guiding them on their adventures throughout the realms.

For Henry, he had unfinished business to tend to, and the first time they docked in Bostonia, he visited his father, Baelfire in prison. Captain Jones had convinced Master Henry that everyone, even a villain deserved a second chance. And so, every time they stopped in port at Bostonia, Henry got to know the man who abandoned him as a child. While it was not the same as the bond formed between him and Captain Jones, he found enough in common with Baelfire to create an understanding with the man and eventually a friendship that would last a lifetime.

As for Princess Emma and Captain Jones, they lived happily ever after.

The End.

[bringisfluffypones]

witch hat atelier ponies! here come the magic dads and their adopted children. all of them have trauma! (i know we didnt get that tetia backstory yet but have you seen this series? id be more surprised if there wasnt a sad backstory hiding in that voluminous pink hair)

since im pretty happy with this one, have a wall of text about cutie mark reasoning, some headcannons and other random ramblings below

- first off, the doodles on the left show how witches of each pony tribe draw the seals; earth ponies have retractable ink wands, pegasi use wingtip wands. unicorns pose a bit of a problem here given theyre already magic horses, so WHA unicorns can only perform the most basic magic there is in mlp canon ie object levitation. we will conveniently ignore the question of how they hide their seal drawing when theyre not really wearing any clothes. the ratio of each tribe in witch population is 60:30:10 unicorns:pegasi:earth ponies. due to this unicorns are generally viewed as best witches (where classical unicorns are held above regular ones); then pegasi, then earth ponies, however, this is more a matter of stereotypes than inherent biology traits.

- im gonna go character by character, left to right, note some titbits if i have any about them, and add in my reasoning behind each cutie mark. i am sticking to only one set of character names, if you read a different translated version and are used to another way a name is written.... look agott alone has like a dozen of them, im not writing them all out okay? okay good lets go

olruggio: him and his disaster husband have complimenting designs; i opted to go for that fire and water duality with them, rather than just black and white. so olly has dark red coat against qifrey´s light blue. admittedly, making him a pegasus wasnt all that deliberate decision, he would probably make a good unicorn just fine, but i figured making them all unicorns is predictable and boring, so why not have some fun? he can have some flying, as a treat (we will omit sylph shoes existing in case of this crossover). his cutie mark is a contraption tool inside a flame; both pretty obvious choices, he is an inventor and the one character with an entire monologue about a fire.

qifrey: correct me if im wrong, but i think qifrey is juuuuust a tiny bit taller than olruggio in the manga, so the drawing reflects it. his cutie mark is a water drop creating ripples in the water surface; the water aspect in him is clear. his decision to take coco in is what jump starts all the events that unfold, and his relentless pursuit of brimcaps show he is not someone to, pardon the awkward pun, let the waters stay calm.

- agott: ah. she. my favorite, best character right here, prepare for me going off. unlike everyone else, agott´s ears are perpetually folded (she is one serious and a little bit grumpy child after all), but that doesnt necessarily mean she always feels grumpy or sad. she just prefers using words to emoting, which is entirely fair. i hear all zero of you asking, why isnt she a unicorn? surely the arklaums would all be fancy unicorns (yes, really, i think akrome is the most spread around version of her surname, but like i said im sticking to the translated version i prefer because like, again theres at least five different ways this surname is translated), given theyre one of the original houses, shouldering that legacy. reason is twofold: one, being born an earth pony, the one with a runaway gene (here´s where i point to the cake twins as canon mlp example), enhances her status as the family outcast; gives one more reason for her desperation to prove herself to her family. two, it gives her another connection to coco, something she despises at first but then accepts and even cherishes later as she gets to know coco. and because angst is the fuel that keeps me afloat, here´s a fun twist: do yall remember chapter 23, where iguin starts tattooing a forbidden spell on agott´s lower arm but doesnt finish it? i remember. now,  kamome shirahama the series´creator doesnt, as far as ive noticed at least, keep this unfinished spell on agott´s arm (granted its like, just one long line canonically so maybe i just missed it), but to me its way too intriguing of a concept. so pony agott has an incomplete seal on her hoof where you can tell its a seal, and boi does it cause problems to both agott´s psyche and bring unwanted outside attention (you bet there was at least one confrontation with knights moralis over this). she generally hides it under a bracer if theyre away from the atelier. now, her cutie mark is the one im most proud of; a book and a purple bird (specifically a phoenix) in front. the book symbolizes both her personal goal to become a librarian in the tower of tomes, and her main strength as a witch, that is technique derived from studying and hard work. the phoenix symbolizes a cycle of change, of rebirth. she was rejected from house arklaum only to find herself in qifrey´s atelier; a second chance to prove herself. the endless cycle of changes in her life, and she does her best to keep rolling with them. and in her own words, she always strives to become someone better, never content to be as she is now.

coco: as mentioned, coco is an earth pony, an obvious choice for the regular-person-thrusted-into-magical-world characters. she is actually really stoked about agott being an earth pony as well, since agott being so skilled with magic gives coco hope she will be great in her own way one day. brushbuddy enjoys being carried by coco, ponies are fluffy. her cutie mark is a wand, but the tip is a painting stone; a link between her old-new calling of magic finally given a chance, and her past as daughter of a seamstress and her ability to draw perfect straight lines. longing, working towards a future where she can both keep her magic and return her mom from petrification.

richeh: now, like qifrey, i made richeh a unicorn, but unlike qifrey, she is a classical unicorn; that means sligtly tilted ears, longer and curvier horn, and a leonine tail. her trademark deadpan stare is of course included. her cutie mark is an ink wand changing into one of her crystal ribbons, a symbol of her originality and the way she wants to keep her spells her own.

tetia: she has a habit of pronking instead of walking, fitting given she´s the most pinkie pie-esque character in WHA. and also im still terrible at drawing pegasi in flight, but we dont have to talk about that part. her cutiemark is rather simple, a cloud and a rainbow. rainbow for her general disposition and her focus on gratitude, and the cloud for her proficiency/interest in cloud magic.

thats about it! i talked way too much about this, i´ll probably end up drawing some more stuff for WHA.

[this-song-thats-only-for-you]

Uncaged - Part 1

Summary: You had felt like a prisoner and called out for help, though you weren't expecting it to be Park Jinyoung who came to your rescue. Nothing is as it seems and the more you get to know him, the more you felt free.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x female reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,048

Prompt: “You’re doing it wrong.”

A/N: This is part of the Challenging Words February Challenge. Where we use a group of prompts and make a story from them. Here is the first part to mine. I hope you enjoy. :)

You groaned softly as your body woke up from its slumber. Your head felt heavy as if it were made of stone. Struggling to move your body in an upright position, your eyes remained closed, your head pounding at the sudden movement.

“Where am I?” 

It came out in an non-coherent mumble as you adjusted to opening your eyes, your body tensing immediately when you realised you had no idea where you were. Panic began to course through you, heightening your senses as you stood up to inspect the room. Stepping away from the chaise you were sitting on, you walked further into the room, the light shining brightly through the window adjacent. The walls were covered from ceiling to floor in bookshelves, every one scattered with ancient texts. A large wooden oak desk sat in front of the far wall, a painting above it. It was then that you realised where you might be. Your eyes turned dark at the face of the person in the painting as you balled your fists up at your sides. You should be scared. Anyone else would be inside his lands, yet all you felt at this very moment was anger. Storming across the room with purpose, your hands made contact with the papers laying over the desk, pushing them with force to the floor as your anger came bubbling to the surface.

“Ugh. Why you?” you asked yourself as you continued to rip the room to shreds.

“Ah, You’re finally awake I see.”

“How did you get in here?” you demanded, your breathing laboured as you froze to the spot, your eyes boring holes into his.

He stood no more than five steps away from you, his hands held together behind him as he paced the room, his eyes running over the mess you had created.

“Does it matter? It seems I should have been more prompt in my arrival. Maybe then you wouldn't have redecorated. Although I do say it's an improvement. I found it too stuffy in here anyway.”

“Why am I here Jinyoung?” 

Your eyes followed him intently as he continued to walk around the room, keeping his distance from you as he did so.

“I think if anyone were to know why, that it would be you.” 

He sat down on the chaise you had vacated, his legs laying along it as he crossed them, his hands now behind his head of dark hair as he smiled at you smugly, his eyes crinkling with amusement as your temper flared once again.

“Stop with the riddles, Jinyoung. Just tell me why I’m here!”

“Did you not call for help? To be let out from your cage?”

“How did you know that?”

Jinyoung merely shrugged in response causing you to groan in frustration.

“You couldn’t have possibly heard me.”

“My dear Y/N, I’m certain anyone could have heard your screams. You were rather loud.”

“I wasn’t..why you though? Of all people?” 

Your confusion began to outweigh the frustration filling your body as you stepped towards him, sitting on the chair automatically as you looked at your hands, trying to figure out what indeed had happened.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That’s not how you thank the person who saved you, now is it?”

“Why should I thank you? I didn’t ask to be saved!”

“That’s not what it looked like to me Y/N. I can happily send you back if you’d like.” 

He sat up and turned to face you, only a glint of smile playing on his lips as he waited for your response.

“How am I being saved if all I am doing is trading one cage for another?” you raised your voice at him, unable to control the emotions flooding back to your body at the realisation of being sent back there. You began to shake, your skin feeling clammy as you struggled to breathe in any air. The room started to fade from your vision as the fear overwhelmed you entirely until you felt a gentle squeeze on your hand followed by Jinyoung’s voice.

“You are free to go. I am not trapping you here. I merely helped you escape. If I had to hear your screaming go on any longer my head would have exploded.”

“Why do you do that?” 

You opened your eyes to see Jinyoung sitting poised in the chaise,  his hands crossed in front of him, nowhere near you.

“Do what?”

“Try to be nice but then be a complete asshole in the same sentence.”

“It’s my natural charm.” 

“I highly doubt that.” 

The pair of you sat in silence, neither saying a word for what felt like an eternity. Although Jinyoung wasn’t your favourite person in the world, you weren't afraid of him like many others in the lands were. You didn’t know why but you felt at ease within his company, something that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like a very long time. In fact, you couldn't remember the last time you felt a sense of peace in just being near someone. This feeling irked you to no end. You barely knew the man, and yet you felt like there was this invisible force pulling you towards him, on the brink of knowing everything.

“I wouldn’t send you back to Tristan. You can stay here as long as you wish to.” He broke you out of your reverie once more. 

The realisation of what had occurred now fully hitting you as you sat next to the man. What would be happening right now in the house that you had escaped from? Would he come looking for you? What would you do if he did?

“You don’t have to worry about any of that.” Jinyoung answered, although you hadn't spoken your concerns out loud.

“How..?”

“I’m highly perceptive of body language.”

You rolled your eyes at his arrogance, and at that very moment your stomach filled the room with a growl, echoing off the walls.

“How about some food? I’m rather famished myself. This way.” 

Jinyoung didn’t wait for you to follow as he headed towards the door, opening it and retreating out of it faster than he had arrived. Taking a deep breath, you picked yourself up and hastily followed him.

__________________

Part 2

[immortal-tale]

It reminds me of the "Broken Film Theory" that was mentioned during the 5th main scenario. When Kim Dokja was explaining to Han Suyeong as to why he won't kill Shin Yuseong.

"they"? is the message some kind of "epilogue"? "Enternity" and "epilogue" are the 2 ■■ Kim Dokja acquired.

The quote continues: Don't judge without knowing the full story. Also, WHY THE HELL ARE THERE SO MANY FORESHADOWING!?!

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

⸢(What an interesting story.)⸥

It was none other than Simulation who decided to butt in.

...

⸢It’s written with the idea that ‘Those who can’t understand it, will not’.)⸥

‘Pardon?’

I thought I heard a light sigh, and then tiny sparks danced in front of my eyes. The power leaking out from [The 4th Wall] flipped through the pages of the book and began extracting several paragraphs.

And once those seemingly disparate paragraphs, taken from different short stories, were connected, they formed the following lines of texts.

⸢Emotions, passed down from the distant, remote universe. That is the flow of the ancient times that this writer could never follow after. We were terrified.⸥

⸢They were like monsters from a universe we couldn’t recognise.⸥

⸢This ‘Fear’ didn’t stem from what we could predict. This was pure ‘Terror’ emanating from those that we could never understand.⸥

⸢With great difficulty, we assigned names to each of those Terrors. We wanted to pretend that, by assigning names to the creatures of the unknown, we’d be able to understand them.⸥

Only now did it feel like the message this book wished to convey was revealing itself.

⸢Of course, whether our attempt has any meaning or not, only they can decide.⸥

After reading that resignation-filled paragraph, I thought I could see why the ‘Outer Gods’ ridiculed these ‘Recorders of Fear’ so much. All those Modifiers attached to them, strictly speaking, didn’t reflect their original essence.

⸢If you, the reader, meet them someday, remember this. The one who stares into the abyss will have no choice but to either go mad, or become the abyss itself.⸥

[swimyghost]

Snazz's Birthday Bash

TODAY IS @holyfandomsnazz 's birthday today! EVERYONE WISH THEM A HAPPY B-DAY!

@self-insert-nonsense @wickedhellagoodtime ARE HERE TOO!

The heat was getting to everyone. Even though the region was known for its cooler summers compared to the rest of the country, the wave of moist warmth was ruining the entire Roomies' day.

"Swimy," Snazz said, their blonde hair frazzled and covering their weary eyes, "did you pay the goddamn rent for the electric bill?"

"Unfortunately, until I get my ID, I'm still a minor in the eyes of the law," the recently made adult replied, pulling their blue hair away from their sweat covered brow, "so, no, I didn't pay the fucking electrical bill,"

"Well, couldn't you have gotten your ID earlier!?" Snazz shouted.

"I wasn't eighteen until three days ago, genius!" Swimy fired back.

Formerly lounging on the couch, the pair were now locked in a fierce glaring match with both of them looking like they were ready to fight each other.

"You're the adult here, why didn't you pay!?" Swimy yelled.

"Because I haven't been paid yet!"

"Neither have I!"

"Enough!"

A pink-haired figure stepped out into the living room with a tired, yet annoyed, look on their face. In her hand was a paper bag with the name 'SIN' scrawled on the forehead which was dotted with sweat stains. Their floral patterned shirt was just as ruffled as Swimy's hoodie and Snazz's gray shirt. Putting both hands on their hips, the eldest member of the roommates frowned at the duo.

"Do you want us to get another noise complaint?"

"No," Snazz grumbled, leaning back into the couch.

"But Dawn-" Swimy started.

"No buts!" Dawn interrupted, "it's already hard enough to find a four-bedroom apartment in our price range, I don't need you guys making it harder,"

Snazz raised their hand, "Technically my room is a former closet,"

Dawn turned their gaze away, clearly embarrassed, "It still counts,"

"Why can't we just ask your boy toy to help us out?" Swimy questioned.

"Karamatsu is just as much in a financial struggle as us and you know that," Dawn said with an even deeper frown.

"What's the point of a man if you can't even get him to pay your rent?" Snazz muttered.

All three went silent for a few moments before Dawn sighed, "I get my Patreon money at midnight. When is the latest we can pay?"

"The sixteenth," Swimy replied.

"And what day is it today?"

"The fourteenth,"

"Okay, so tomorrow I need to-"

"Oh shit really?" Snazz said, their eyes wide.

Both Swimy and Dawn blinked in confusion. "Is that a problem?" Dawn asked.

"No, no, it's not that," the blonde waved their hand nonchalantly, "I just... Well... It's my birthday tomorrow,"

"What?!" Swimy exclaimed, "I didn't know your birthday was in the same month as mine!"

"I- We're siblings how did you forget!?" Snazz said with their nose scrunched up.

"You know I'm bad with dates!"

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Dawn asked, ignoring Swimy's outburst.

"Hey, I forgot it myself," Snazz raised their hands defensively, "besides... It's not like we celebrated it much anyway,"

The oldest and youngest of the Roomie siblings glanced awkwardly at each other as an uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Several moments passed before Snazz stood up with a grunt. "I got commissions to finish. I'll pay the rent with that next time. Later,"

Dawn reached out to grab hold of their sibling, but they managed to dodge their grasp and entered their room swiftly, closing it with a soft thud. While the apartment was dead still, Dawn and Swimy rushed over to one another and began talking in hushed tones.

"How could you forgot Snazz's birthday!?" the pink-haired singer whispered angrily.

"You forgot it too, don't you try and deny it!" Swimy countered back in an equally low voice.

"Well... Did you get them a present?" Dawn asked anxiously.

"I forgot that Snazz's birthday was even this month, did you really think I'd get them a gift?!"

"Well, I don't have anything either!"

The two sighed, but their emotions were still running high. They had under twenty-four hours to purchase a gift for their sibling with the little amount of money all of them had, all while a desert-like heat filled the region in its unbearable cloud of misery.

"Alright, get your shoes on and try to get Sam out of their room," Dawn ordered, referencing their other sibling.

"What for?" Swimy asked, already reaching for their shoes near the old front door.

"Because we need to go out and get Snazz a gift before it's too late! They already probably think we're a bad sibling so we need to hurry and get something they like!" Dawn explained.

"Alright, alright, keep your voice down!" Swimy hissed, glancing over at Snazz's room.

Dawn nodded and began putting on her shoes while Swimy rushed over to the third oldest Roomie sibling. They grimaced at the yellowing paint on the walls as they swiftly knocked on the door.

"Sam. Sam! I know you're in there and we need you!" the blue-haired teen begged.

"...Go away," a muffled voice stated tiredly.

"Sam, we forgot about Snazz's birthday! All of us need to go find a gift for them!"

"...I'll search online for something. I'll Venmo you some money,"

"Ugh! Why won't you just come out!?"

"...Too hot. Too bright,"

"...That's fair,"

"What did they say?" Dawn asked, all ready to go. Swimy walked over to them with a huff.

"They said they'll look online for something," Swimy complained.

"Let me guess, it's too hot for them?" Dawn guessed.

"Bingo,"

"Well," the eldest sister sighed, "we don't have time to argue. We have a birthday to save!"

"Alright! Let's do it!"

---

"We're not going to be able to do it!"

Dawn looked down at the completely worn-out Swimy, watching as sweat rained down off their body onto the asphalt road as they were uncomfortably hunched over. Their blue hoodie was completely ruined hours earlier and had been tied around their waist in a desperate amount to stay cool, revealing a Mothman T-shirt underneath the read "Eat. Sleep. Lurk.".

"C'mon, one more store," Dawn said with exhaustion seeping into her voice. Her floral pattern blouse and her skirt were completely soaked in sweat and her skin was beet red. Still, determination held strong in her green eyes as she tried to pull her sibling up.

"No! No more stores! We've been into too many stores!" Swimy whined, resisting their sister's efforts.

"We need to find a birthday present!" Dawn argued.

"And I need to find a new therapist but you don't see me spending nearly four hours walking in unbearable heat to find one!" Swimy growled, motioning towards the setting sun, "besides, I think Snazz is starting to think our "double date" excuse is a little suspicious,"

Dawn sighed, "I know... But we need to prove we care about them. Just one gift will be enough,"

Swimy's eyes darted to the side, "I care too... But don't you think that maybe I caused Snazz's forgetfulness? That I'm the one to blame?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean," Swimy looked uncomfortable, "I was the youngest and born literally four days before their birthday. Snazz's birthday has always been overshadowed by me, the "baby" of the family,"

"Swimy-"

"What if... What if I'm the reason Snazz forgot? That I've been a terrible sibling this whole time and I've been blissfully unaware? That I've been able to happily celebrate my birth while they've been forgotten,"

Dawn, nothing tears welling up in their eyes, pulled Swimy close, "Don't talk like that. I doubt Snazz blames you for your birthday or the fact we never celebrated theirs as much as kids. If anything, they should blame Mom and Dad for that. You have nothing to do with this,"

"But... We if they do blame me?"

"Then we have to show Snazz the perfect gift!" Dawn gave her young sibling a tight squeeze, "What do you say? One more store?"

"...Yeah, one more," Swimy looked up concerned, "but how are we going to find one that-"

Suddenly, Swimy's phone went off with a loud buzz. Startled, the pair broke apart while Swimy awkwardly fumbled around with it. There was a single text sent by Sam:

I'm making a pie. I also found something Snazz will most definitely like.

Attached was an address to a nearby store. Sin blinked in surprise after she looked it up.

"It's a weird occult and true crime store. What does this have to do with a birthday present?"

"Who cares!?" Swimy proclaimed with a big grin, "we have a lead! And you said we needed to look in one more store!"

Dawn, still looking unconvinced, simply nodded, "If you say so,"

With that, the pair took off, ignoring the shouts and glares of passerby's. Dawn and Swimy managed to weave their way through tight alleys and crowds with ease with their newfound energy. It wasn't long before the two were situated outside a dark-colored store with black tinted windows. Crystals and occult symbols were carefully hung visibly through the glass. While Swimy appeared eager, Dawn seemed less than sure.

"You okay?" Swimy asked.

"Yeah just... It's creepy," Dawn shivered.

"...I'm married to Death's ferrywoman, Dawn," Swimy lifted their hand, showing off their black and silver wedding ring.

"That's different!"

"It really isn't,"

"Fuck off!" the pink-haired girl shoved Swimy into the store.

Inside was surprisingly bright which went against the darkness of the clothes, books, and crystals. The wood made a hollow thud with every step. Shelves were spaced in rows that carried various occult items. Walls were lined by clothes and posters containing demons or hard-core metal bands to-

"Is that Al Capone?" Dawn pointed at a poster.

"Yeah... And that's Haurkichi Yamaguchi," Swimy motioned to another poster, referencing the creator and former head of the Yamaguchi-gumi yakuza organization.

"Ahem,"

The Roomies siblings turned and, across the store, was a teenaged Japanese cashier. She had a combination of boredom and exasperation as she parted her black hair from her eyes. "Welcome to Crimes and the Concealed, a true crime and occult experience where there is something for everyone," she waved her hands less than amused for a supposed to be dramatic effect.

"Uh... Thanks," Dawn replied, nudging Swimy forward.

"If you buy one poster, the other is 15% off,"

"Thank you! But we're looking for something else!" Dawn hastily shoved Swimy into the back of the store, away from the prying eyes of the cashier, who seemed equally glad not to deal with them.

"That was rude," Swimy glared

"Sorry! This whole shop gives me the creeps," Dawn whined.

"I'm never taking you on a double date to the Underworld," Swimy muttered, blissfully unaware of the sound of the store door opening.

The siblings went looking for something buy, pouring over the many candles and strange objects as the setting sun remained a looming reminder of their limited time. After looking at the fifteenth crystal necklace, Dawn was about to give up when Swimy let out a gasp. Dawn instantly turned and was stunned to see what was hanging in the corner of the store.

Body pillows. Over a dozen body pillows of famous gangsters and criminals from Billy the Kid to Calogero Vizzini to Pablo Escobar, the rather morbid idea of placing known men that went outside the law for their evil deeds in alluring poses made the two shiver. But the one that caught their eye was the lone female in the mix. Long lavender hair matched her dazzling amber eyes. She donned a pirate outfit with a black corset that complimented her figure. Black boots with gold accents that reached to her knees, similar to how her all-knowing smirk reached across her face.

Dawn reached out and touched the pillow, "That's... Snazz's girlfr-"

"MY WAIFU!"

Suddenly, two large men shoved past the Roomie siblings. One had thick-rimmed and lens glasses with a greasy ponytail and sweat and grease-stained shirt that showed a bunch of underage anime girls in tight clothing and the other looked similar but had shorter black hair with glasses that blocked out his eyes and was slightly skinnier than his friend but still wore questionable attire.

"Oh my dear waifu, how I've looked for you for so long!" the ponytail man wailed, almost crying on the pillow.

"Hey! We had our hand on it first!" Swimy said, shoving past their older sister and glaring at the men.

"Eh!? What would two normies want with this?!" the smaller of the two gasped, his green jacket fluttering with the sudden movement showing that he had two anime girls sitting on their knees with one only wearing an open suit and fedora and the other an Italian suit with a cigar in her mouth.

"Did you use normies unironically?" Swimy muttered with disgust.

"You two don't get it clearly!" the larger man snorted, "If you were real fans of Chibi Wakai Gyangu No On'nanoko, you'd understand how rare this pillow this is!"

"Chibi Young Gangster Girls?" Dawn repeated the title, confused.

Both men turned their attention to Dawn. The ponytail man spoke first, "It's an anime where all the famous gangsters are turned into cute little girls! But the modern-day pirate mob boss can't be added because she keeps targeting the animation studio anytime they try!"

"I wonder why?" Swimy rolled their eyes.

"Quiet pipsqueak!" The jacketed man yelled.

"Easy, Kurai," the larger man leaned into Swimy's personal space, "those this one look like Al Capone-chan?"

Kurai blinked then let out a small smile, "She does, Terro! All she has to do is change her hair and-"

"It's 'they' and you stay away from my sibling!" Dawn shouted, pulling Swimy behind them.

"Shut up, pinkie! You have no right to judge since you're cosplaying that Sin idol!" Terro shouted.

"Their boobs are clearly fake! They're such a fake cosplayer she can't even get her most noticeable features!" Kurai pointed out.

Dawn gasped and wrapped her arms around her chest. Swimy leaped forward and practically hissed at the two, "We're taking that pillow and you're going to leave us alone, or else!"

Terro sneered, "Or else what?"

With the snap of their fingers, a bright blue beam of blue particles swirled around Terro's head. He tried to swat them away, but the blue solidified and turned into a dense water bubble around his head that spun like a cyclone. He tried to scream but inhaled a bunch of water instead. Kurai immediately went on the defense and tried the grab hold of Swimy. Dawn, realizing that talking wouldn't be successful here, stepped aside as Swimy leaped backward and willed her hand into a fiery blaze. With a primal scream, she slapped him full force, sending both him and his glasses flying in opposite directions. A bright red handprint was left on his face. A sudden gasp alerted the siblings that the water bubble had burst. Before they could react, Terro was on top of Swimy and trying to hold them down.

"You crazy bitch!" He screamed, trying to land a hit on the smaller person.

Swimy used their free leg to deliver a swift kick to the stomach before headbutting him off them. He groaned in pain and rolled onto his side. Dawn took this opportunity to light her foot ablaze and slam it down right onto his crotch. He howled in pain as his pants and his manhood were burned by the attack.

"Get the Hell out of here before we do worse!" Dawn ordered, readying their fists with Swimy following close behind.

Whimpering, the two took off running, leaving behind Kurai's set of glasses and several clothes that had fallen during the scuffle. Tired, Swimy grabbed hold of the body pillow and trudged towards the register. The cashier trembled as they set it down.

"W-Will that be all?" she stuttered.

"Yeah," Swimy replied bluntly.

The cashier nodded and quickly rung up the pillow. She practically shoved the item into Swimy's arms and nearly dove under the counter. Dawn rested a weary hand on Swimy and sighed.

"C'mon, let's get out of here before the cops arrive. We have a birthday to save,"

---

All Snazz wanted to do was sleep. Not only had they remembered that their birthday was a thing but they had spent the whole night trying to finish commissions in an attempt to forget it again. Even though their body was worn out, their mind was rushing with memories of all the birthdays that were forgotten of the years.

It's like they never cared Snazz thought.

They rolled onto their side for the hundredth time that night, trying to force sleep to come. What they didn't expect was their door to suddenly slam open and a large weight crashing onto their side.

"Oof! What the fuck-!"

"Wake up, sleepyhead! Time to have the best day you've ever had!"

"...Swimy?" Snazz looked up, seeing the smiling face of their youngest sibling looking down on them. They had thick eyebags that hung from under their eyes that balanced out their high amounts of enthusiasm radiating off them.

"Do you know another blue-haired bitch that's related to you? Now come on before I drag you out!" Swimy exclaimed, pulling on Snazz's shirt sleeve.

"I'm still I'm my pajamas and I haven't even showered!" Snazz argued, trying to resist their pulling.

"You also haven't cleaned your room in two weeks but you aren't worried about that!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck yourself!"

With the help of both their powers and natural strength, Swimy managed to help drag Snazz out of their bed and made them cover their eyes.

"This is stupid," Snazz grumbled.

"You're stupid but I love you anyway. To the kitchen!" Swimy shoved Snazz forward.

After several near attempts of Snazz crashing into a wall and one toe snubbing, they made it to the kitchen with Snazz less than amused.

"This better be good,"

"It is! Now... Open!"

Snazz did so and gasped. Not only was their favorite pie, chocolate coconut perfectly sat on their rickety table, but a large wrapped present was sitting beside it. Snazz and Sam, wearing their infamous multi-colored gradient mask, stood there with birthday poppers and wide grins.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SNAZZ!" all three siblings shouted, pulling the poppers and sending cheap confetti everywhere. Instead of being excited, Snazz stood there motionless with a blank expression. After a brief pause, Sam leaned over and whispered into Swimy's ear.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Swimy whispered back.

"Swimy," Sin said sternly.

"I didn't! Honest!"

Sam crossed their arms, "Well why are they-"

Wails exploded from Snazz as fat tears ran down their face. Immediately, all of their siblings rushed over and began to comfort them.

"Is it the pie? Is the pie not good enough?" Swimy asked nervously.

"I made that fucker by hand! It's perfect!" Sam yelled.

"Well if I have to be blamed for something so do you!" Swimy yelled back.

"Was it the poppers? God, I knew they were a bad idea!" Dawn nearly pulled their hair due to stress.

"You wanna go?" Sam snarled.

"Yeah, let's go!" their blue-haired sibling smirked, readying their fists.

Snazz grabbed all three of them and pulled them into a tight hug pile on the floor. Still crying, they managed to choke out a few words.

"I-I'm so happy! Y-You did a-all of this fo-for me!"

"Of course we did! We love you Snazz!" Dawn said, flinching as Snazz began to cry harder.

"C'mon, open the gift!" Swimy said, pulling the present down to the group.

Snazz didn't hesitant into tearing it open. They gasped in shock when they saw what it was.

"Is this my girlfriend? On a... Body pillow?"

"Don't ask how we got her," Dawn butted in.

"I-"

"Don't. Ask."

"I- Alright. Thank you. It's a lovely gift," Snazz said, setting it aside.

"Let's eat the damn pie already. I spent all night working on it so let's put it to good use," Sam said, standing up.

"I'll get the plates!" Sin called over her shoulder.

"Lemme get the forks and knives!" Swimy started to rush over to the drawers.

While the three started to gather everything for their meal, Snazz watched them fondly. They grabbed ahold of their new gift and squeezed it tightly.

Whatever being rules this hell of a universe... Thank you for my siblings... And thank you for this birthday.

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 16

Well, it’s late AF but I SAID I’d get it posted! And it’s a monster. And, pardon my French, but I’m damn fucking proud of it. (And thank you SO MUCH to @what-does-mine-say for her help!!!)

I just hope you all don’t hate me (or Alex for that matter) after reading it *nervous laughter*

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 16/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Language because it’s me; tremendous amounts of angst; anxiety; drinking and allusions to alcoholism; … and cheating *cries*

Word count: 7.7k

Catch up on previous parts here.

When Callie arrived back at the house from her run, she’d expected to hear the lawnmower. The grass was getting bad, and she’d asked Adam last night to please cut it that morning before it got too hot. But as she walked up the front porch and back into the house, it was silent. Too silent.

She pulled out her ear buds and set them with her phone on the kitchen island before marching upstairs to their bedroom. It was nearly 11, and if he was still asleep—

But when she burst into their bedroom, she found their king-sized bed empty and unmade. Her brow furrowed. She glanced toward the master bath; that was dark and empty, too. She turned and went back downstairs, searching through the house. He wasn’t in the den or the garage, or anywhere else that she could see. Finally, she peered through the sliding glass door into the backyard. Anger bubbled up inside her. Adam sat at the patio table, an open beer can in his hand.

The glass door gave an angry whir as Callie slid it open. Adam didn’t even so much as glance in her direction, too occupied with his phone. “Are you seriously drinking? It’s not even eleven, Adam.”

“It’s Miller Lite,” he dismissed with a roll of his eyes. “It’s practically water.”

Callie’s eyebrows arched. The question flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. “But is it your first?”

Adam’s gaze flicked up to meet hers. “Are you serious?”

For a moment, Callie was struck dumb by the darkness in his eyes. They held a storm of emotion—anger, hurt, betrayal. He’d never looked at her like that, and a wave of regret surged up through her. But she steeled herself against it. As much as it hurt her to see him in such a state, she knew it would only get worse if she didn’t say something.

“Yes, I’m serious,” she returned. “I know you’re upset about all the shit with Kenny and Alex, but it’s getting out of hand, Adam. You’ve been drinking more and more the last few weeks. I don’t think I’ve seen you without a drink in your hand since we got back from Jacksonville. Do you know how many empty beer cans and whiskey glasses I’ve cleaned up the last few days?”

He looked back down at his phone. “Well, no one asked you to clean them up,” he bluntly returned with a sip of his beer. It stunned her again. And then, it angered her.

“No, they didn’t,” she shot. “But I guess I’m the only one around here who cares. Do I need to mow the lawn, too?”

Adam abruptly slammed the beer can down onto the table, making Callie flinch. When he spoke, his voice came out eerily calm. “I’m a grown-ass man, Callie. Don’t talk to me like I’m a child in my own damn house.”

He stood up and stalked toward the patio door, not looking at her as he passed. She followed after him as he went inside. “Babe, please just talk to me.”

“I really don’t want to,” he said, moving toward the garage.

“Why not?”

He whirled around to face her. “Because I just don’t! Okay? Just let me deal with my shit how I want to deal with it!”

He glared down at her, and the look on his face sent Callie’s heart into her throat.  If his eyes had been dark before, they were downright unrecognizable now. This wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. She didn’t know who this person was.

“Well if this is how you want to deal with it, then I don’t want to be around it.”

She pushed past him and grabbed her phone off the kitchen island and her keys off the hook on the wall next to the garage door. Tears filled her eyes as she left and climbed into her car. She wasn’t sure what hurt worse: knowing that Adam was hurting, or knowing that he didn’t want her help to take away the pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex was trying every trick in the book to clear her head. She’d gotten up with the sun and gone for a run despite absolutely hating it. She’d cleaned her kitchen and bathroom and vacuumed the entire house. She’d taken a long, hot shower. Now, she was going through her entire wardrobe, getting rid of the things she didn’t wear and reorganizing the rest. But no matter what she tried she couldn’t distract herself from what she’d done.

She’d kissed Kenny, not the other way around. She’d grabbed him and kissed him, aching to feel him in that moment, and she’d only broken away at the prospect of getting caught. How much further would she have gone if she hadn’t heard those voices in the hall? Would she have kept kissing him? Would she have straddled his lap, let him carry her into the bathroom and fuck her on the sink? She liked to believe she wouldn’t, but she wasn’t sure. And she hated herself for that.

And Cash. She’d hidden it from him—all too easily. After his match she’d kissed him like her life depended on it, and he’d changed without even taking a shower so they could get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. She’d had bruises on her thighs from how hard he’d gripped her, her back pressed flat against the shower wall, teeth biting into his shoulder and her legs wrapped tight around him as he’d thrust deep into her. It had been the best sex they’d had yet; and she’d thought of Kenny as soon as it was over. She hated herself for that even more.

She grabbed a dress she hadn’t worn in over a year from off its hanger and walked out of her closet to toss it onto the quickly growing donate pile on her bed. It was probably a side effect of her guilty conscience, but she felt like purging everything and buying a whole new wardrobe. She walked over to her dresser and jerked open the bottom drawer where she kept all the t-shirts she never wore and started pulling them out onto the floor. But she suddenly stopped when she grabbed a pink and orange tie-dyed shirt that had been shoved into the back.

She sat back on her heels and smoothed out the fabric across her lap. The words “Daytona Beach” were printed in arched white lettering across the front. She’d completely forgotten she had that shirt; Kenny had bought it for her that day at the boardwalk. And now that she saw it, all the memories tied to it came flooding back in a rush.

She pushed herself to her feet and walked over to her nightstand and pulled open the drawer. She’d dropped Kenny’s locket in there as soon as she’d gotten home two days ago, and she’d managed to leave it there, out of sight and out of mind. But now she pulled it out and opened it.

Her stomach fluttered as she looked at the picture. She remembered that moment like it was yesterday. Kenny had put his arm around her waist and hugged her close on the photobooth bench. He’d smirked down at her and asked, “Are you really mad at me?” She’d pouted and turned to tell him, “Yes,” but he’d kissed her before she could. And she’d forgotten all about him wiping the floor with her on every game in that arcade.

She closed the locket and slipped the chain over her neck as she moved to her full-length mirror. The chain was long, and the locket hung below her chest, halfway to her belly button. She was impressed with how well Kenny had done; it was exactly her style. And as she looked at herself in the mirror, she had a thought.  

She grabbed her phone off her bed and walked back to the mirror. She mussed her long brown hair just so and half-tucked her oversized tank top into her cutoff shorts, adjusting it so that her lacy bralette peeked out of the low-cut neck, and struck a flattering pose. She must have taken twenty photos before she finally got one she liked. It was definitely a little bit sexy; but honestly, that was what she wanted. She opened up Instagram, chose the photo from her gallery, and typed up a caption. Feeling cute, might delete later #ootd. And then she hit “post.” To everyone else, it would just look like a typical girly Instagram post. But when Kenny saw the locket around her neck, he would know.

She tossed her phone back onto the bed and went back to cleaning out her dresser. She got through the rest of the t-shirts and most of the next drawer before she couldn’t stop herself from looking anymore.

She picked up her phone and opened Instagram. The picture already had a few dozen likes, mostly from fans but a few from friends. Trent had already commented. Your pockets are longer than your shorts. She rolled her eyes.

A new notification popped up and she immediately opened it. Cash had liked the photo and commented with a heart eyes emoji. Alex’s heart sank, suddenly feeling guilty for even getting the idea to post the picture. But, suddenly, another notification came in: kennyomegamanx liked your photo.

Her heart sped up. A few seconds later, her phone chirped with a text—from Kenny.

Fuck, Alex. I wasn’t expecting that. Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?

Alex bit her lip as she read the message, over and over again. It was bold, and she had enabled it. But before she could decide what the hell she should do, if anything at all, another text came in—from Cash.

Good lord, sweetheart. I’m about to get in my car and not stop until I’m at your house and in those cutoffs.

Alex threw her phone to the bed like it was on fire. She ran her hands through her hair. “What the fuck are you doing?” she breathed. But, suddenly, her phone rang. She stole a glance at the screen, terrified it was Kenny or Cash—but it was Callie.

She picked it up and answered it, welcoming the unexpected interruption. “Hello?”

“Hey. Are you busy?”

Her voice was thick; she sounded upset. Alex’s brow furrowed. “No. I’m actually trying to make myself busy,” she admitted with a wry laugh. “Why? What’s going on?”

Callie drew in a shaky breath. Was she crying? “I know this is last minute and you don’t exactly live right down the road… but I’d really appreciate it if you came over.”

“Yeah,” Alex immediately said. “Of course. Should I pack a bag or anything?”

She didn’t answer right away. “If you want,” she eventually said.

Alex chewed her lip. “Okay. Is everything alright?”

It seemed like a stupid question; it certainly didn’t sound like everything was alright. But, whatever it was, Callie didn’t want to discuss it over the phone. “We’ll talk about it when you get here,” she said.

“Okay,” Alex said again. “See you in a couple hours.”

They said goodbye and hung up. Alex navigated back to Cash’s text and typed up a quick reply. Hold that thought. Callie just called and asked me to come over. She sounded upset.

She hit send—and then she pulled up Kenny’s text again. She opened the emoji keyboard and looked at the frequently used tab. The very first one was the kissing face emoji. She’d recently sent it—to Cash. Her thumb hovered over it, tempted to send it to Kenny. But she thought better of it and closed out of her messages and locked her phone, hurrying to pack a bag and get out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie had texted Alex to meet her at a grocery store parking lot about twenty minutes from the house. If there was one complaint she had about living out in Middle-of-Nowhere, Virginia, it was that it took at least twenty minutes to get to anything; it certainly wasn’t like that where she was from in California, and she still hadn’t gotten used to it. But she’d trade every convenience in the world for Adam. He was her world. But, right now, she didn’t feel like she was his.

She sat in her car staring at her phone, hoping he would call or text, getting angrier by the second. Didn’t he care where she was? She’d been gone for hours. She opened up Instagram and started scrolling, hoping to distract herself, and when she got bored with that she turned to Twitter. She was typing a snarky reply to something Britt had tweeted when someone knocked on her window, making her jump. She looked up. It was Alex.

She jumped out of the car, nearly hitting Alex with the door as she opened it, and threw her arms around her neck.

“Okay, you’re kinda scaring me now,” Alex awkwardly returned; she clearly hadn’t expected to be ambushed with a hug. “What’s going on?”

Callie could feel the tears rising from her stomach to her throat, threatening to spill. “Adam and I got into it this morning. I walked out right before I called you. I’ve been gone for hours and he doesn’t even seem to care.”

Alex relaxed and returned the embrace. “Why’d you get into it?”

“His drinking.” Callie sniffled as she pulled away. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “It’s gotten completely out of hand. It’s all he ever seems to do anymore, and he won’t talk to me or let me help him…”

Her voice broke, and Alex immediately pulled her into another hug as the tears finally broke forth. “Why is he drinking?” she asked.

Callie pulled away again, wiping her cheeks dry. “Kenny,” she said. “He feels guilty about setting you up with Cash now that he knows how Kenny feels. And Kenny’s behavior isn’t helping.”

Alex seemed to freeze when she said that, her eyes wide and her jaw tight. But before Callie could ask, she said, “Come on. I’ll take care of it.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, Alex didn’t wait for Callie before she climbed out of her Jeep and moved toward the front door of Callie and Adam’s house. Callie hurried to catch up with her as she let herself in.

“Where is he?” Alex asked.

“I’m not sure,” Callie said. “Probably in the backyard.”

Alex walked into the kitchen and got a glass out of one of the cabinets. She turned on the sink and filled it to the top with water.

“What’re you doing?” Callie asked.

She gave her a look. “Sobering him up.”

She walked purposefully toward the back of the house and out the sliding glass door. Adam sat with his eyes closed on one of the patio couches in front of the fire pit, his boots propped up on the ottoman, a beer can clutched in his hand. He didn’t even stir as Alex marched right up to him and threw the entire glass of water in his face.

“What the fuck?!” He sat up, sputtering. He blinked his eyes open against the light and water. “Alex?” he asked in confusion and anger. “What the fuck was that for?”

“For being a fucking jerk,” she returned. “For being passed out drunk in your backyard.”

“I’m not—” he cut himself off with a groan as he wiped the water from his face. “What the fuck are you even doing here?”

“Callie called me crying and asked me to come over,” she said with a motion toward Callie. “Did you even realize she was gone for more than two fucking hours?”

Adam cast his gaze regretfully at Callie. But he had nothing to say for himself. Alex let out a breath. She walked over to Callie and squeezed her shoulder. “Give us a minute, alright?”

She nodded. Her eyes were full of hurt as she looked briefly at Adam before turning and going back into the house. Alex made sure she’d closed the door behind her before she walked back over and sat down next to Adam on the couch, setting the empty glass on the ottoman. Adam spoke first.

“Did she really call you crying?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he breathed. “What did she say?”

“That your drinking’s gotten out of hand. That you’re self-medicating because you feel guilty about me and Kenny and won’t talk to her about it.”

For a long time, Adam didn’t say anything. When he finally did speak, he couldn’t look at her. “He blames me, Alex. He thinks I’m the reason that you two aren’t together anymore. And he’s not wrong.”

Alex’s face fell, suddenly becoming conscious of the weight of Kenny’s locket around her neck. She hadn’t bothered to take it off before running out of her house to meet Callie. She gripped the locket in her hand, worried that somehow Adam would know what it was. Know what she’d done after Dynamite that week. “Why do you think he blames you?”

“Because he fucking told me he does,” he returned with a look at her. His eyes were glassy. “He called me a guilty drunk.”

Her brow furrowed. “When?”

“After the fight at the hotel. I went to his room to talk to him. He thought I’d called him over to rub you and Cash in his face.”

Alex’s heart sank when she saw the look on Adam’s face. He was lost, broken, hurt. And then she realized: this wasn’t really about her and Kenny. It was about him and Kenny.              

She scooted closer and pulled him into a hug. “You’re not a guilty drunk,” she assured. “You’re a good friend. Everything you did was done with good intentions. I know Kenny can’t see that now… but he will.”

Adam didn’t say anything in return. He just gripped her tight, clinging to her like a lifeline. It worried Alex. She’d never seen him like this. She’d witnessed his anxiety countless times before, the way he tended overthink and constantly doubt himself, but this was deeper. She wished she could take some of it on herself, help unburden him, if only for a moment.

Eventually, he let her go. He looked so tired. So defeated. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s better this way.”

She cocked her head at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve felt like a black sheep for six months now,” he said. “Maybe longer. I don’t fit in with Kenny and Matt and Nick. That’s why I’ve been hanging out with Dax and Cash; I fit in with them. I know them, they accept me for who I am. And I feel like Kenny and the Bucks don’t. So I don’t know. Maybe I should just cut my losses.”

Alex frowned. “Trust me, I know how you feel.”

“What?” He gave her a confused look. “You and Best Friends are four peas in a fucking pod.”

A corner of her mouth quirked up. “No, I don’t mean them,” she clarified. “When I was… involved with Kenny last year, the entire time I felt like Matt and Nick hated me; especially Matt. It just seemed like they didn’t think I was good enough for Kenny. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if they influenced him against me.”

“Like I did with you against Kenny,” Adam muttered.

She pursed her lips. “The point I’m trying to make is that I know exactly how exclusive Kenny and the Bucks can act. But they let you into their circle for a reason. Yeah, you’re different from them in a lot of ways. But that doesn’t mean you don’t fit in. It just means you bring something unique to the table that none of them do. And if they don’t appreciate that… then that’s on them.”

Adam looked down at the ground. Alex wasn’t sure if he believed what she was telling him, but when he looked back at her his eyes seemed a little brighter. “Remember how we always used to talk about being a tag team? Maybe it’s time we finally did it.”

Alex gave a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sure Kenny would love that.”

He returned her grin, but it faded fast. “Thank you for being there for Callie,” he said. “I know I’m in the fucking doghouse now.”

She shook her head. “Just talk to her. That’s all she wants.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Alex,” he said again. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

She squeezed his hand back. “I know. Don’t let Chuck hear you say that, though.”

“I don’t care, I’ll fight him.”

She smiled and pulled him into another hug. “No more drinks the rest of the day, alright?”

“Deal,” he agreed. They unwrapped their arms from around each other. “Do you want to stay for dinner, or something? You came all the way out here.”

Alex shook her head as she pushed her hair behind her ear. “No; I’ll give you two your privacy. Besides, I think the drive back will help clear my head.”

His brows knitted together when she said that. “Is everything alright?”

She pressed her mouth into a thin line. No, everything was not alright. But there was no way she could tell Adam what had happened with Kenny, not after what he’d just told her about all he was going through with The Elite. So she just said, “It’s just stuff. I’m an anxious millennial, too.”

Adam looked like he didn’t quite believe her; but, thankfully, he let it go. “Alright. Well text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

They exchanged goodbyes, and Alex went back into the house and exchanged a few reassuring words with Callie before going out the door and climbing back into her Jeep. And as she got on the road and started the two-hour drive back home, she rolled down the windows and cranked up the music, hoping it would take her away to another place.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex closed her eyes and pulled her legs into her chest as she sunk back into her cubby hole in the locker room, making herself small. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, trying desperately to just focus on the moment in front of her. She’d been ruminating all day—all week—teetering on the edge of an anxiety attack ever since she’d set foot into Daily’s Place. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Cash knew something was wrong. She’d told him she was nervous about his match that night, which wasn’t entirely untrue—FTR was teaming with The Elite against Dark Order in a 12-man tag match. He’d assured her that it would be alright; he was more than capable of putting his issues with Kenny aside for the sake of the match. But his assurance had only made her feel worse. The issues he knew were just the tip of the iceberg.

Alex had tried not to text Kenny back after he’d responded to her Instagram post. She’d tried to put it out of her mind, and she’d damn near succeeded. But, later that night, long after she’d returned home from Callie and Adam’s, Kenny had sent another message: Why’d you post that picture? And she hadn’t been able to stop herself from answering: Because I was thinking of you.

It had been a slippery slope from there.

I can’t ever stop thinking of you.

We shouldn’t do this.

You’re the one who posted that picture. You wanted me to see it.

I’m going to sleep.

Goodnight, baby.

I dreamed about you last night.

A good dream or a bad dream?

A good one. A not PG one.

And what did you do when you woke up?

Do you have to ask?

Did you think of me?

Yes.

Do you think of me when you’re with him?

Kenny, stop. This isn’t right.

That’s not a no.

She’d deleted the texts before going to Cash’s place the next day; and, somehow, that made her feel even guiltier than sending them. It meant she had something to hide. It proved that Kenny still held a part of her heart even while she was falling in love with Cash. And she knew that if she didn’t figure out who she wanted to give her heart to completely, she’d be left with nothing but a gaping hole in her chest.

Someone nudged her knee. She opened her eyes. Chuck stood in front of her. “Hey. Are you coming out with us for our match against Santana and Ortiz?”

Alex chewed nervously on her lip. But she nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

He smiled. “Cool. We’re on second in case you haven’t seen the card.”

Alex just nodded. She knew they were on second—right after FTR and The Elite’s match against Dark Order. The thought of that alone made her anxious.

 Her phone vibrated in her hand. She looked down at the screen and felt herself stumble closer to the edge. It was a text from Kenny.

Meet me in the EVP room. Please.

Her mouth went dry. She knew she shouldn’t go even as she stood and told Chuck she’d be right back. She knew she should turn around with every step she took closer and closer to the EVP room. She knew she shouldn’t raise her fist and knock even as she did, and she definitely knew she shouldn’t have gone in and closed the door as soon as she saw Kenny sitting on the couch, alone.

“Hey.” He stood and met her halfway, and the next thing Alex knew his hands were on her face and his lips on hers. It was a different kiss entirely from the one they’d shared last week, tender and slow instead of desperate and hungry, and, for a few seconds, she returned it. But then she thought of Cash and pushed him away.

“No; we can’t do this, Kenny.”

She took a step back, afraid that if she didn’t he’d pull her right back into his orbit. Even now she could feel it tugging at her heart.

He breathed a laugh. “Yeah, you keep saying that. Yet here you are.”

Her shoulders slumped. She had no good answer for that. He was right.

He took a step closer. She didn’t move. “Why post that picture?” He gripped her hips, drawing her into him. “Why tell me that you got yourself off thinking about me if you don’t want this?”

“I’m not cheating on Cash.”

“So break up with him.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “It’s not that simple.”

He looked to the ceiling, let her go and took a step back. “Right. Of course it’s not,” he breathed. “But it was simple when you ended things with me to start seeing him.”

Alex’s eyebrow arched. Hurt. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“No,” she repeated. “That was the hardest fucking conversation I’ve ever had. And it’s not fair of you to compare that to this. That was different.”

“How? How was it different?”

“Because we weren’t together. I didn’t cheat on you with Cash.”

“Oh bullshit, Alex,” he shot. “We were together.”

“For a week. I’ve been with Cash for over a month now.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Again, she was at a loss. She was here with him because a part of her wanted to be. But another part of her knew it was wrong.

He stepped forward again, cupped her face in his hands. He looked into her eyes, and Alex felt it all the way into her soul. “What do you want, Alex?”

Her answer came out barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”

The door handle suddenly turned. Alex and Kenny jumped apart from each other just as Matt and Nick walked into the room. They both came to a halt just inside the door, staring back and forth between them. Alex flushed and looked away. If the conspicuous distance between her and Kenny wasn’t a dead giveaway that they’d interrupted something, the awkward silence certainly was.

“Uh, hey guys…” Nick said just to say something. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex quickly returned. Too quickly. She glanced at Kenny, “I just had a question… about the women’s tag team tournament. So, I came and asked it.”

Matt and Nick stared blankly back at her. That was a blatant lie; she wasn’t even in the women’s tag team tournament. Her heart pounded in her ears. She needed to leave.

“Well, I’m gonna go,” she said. “Gotta get ready for Chuck and Trent’s match against Santana and Ortiz.”

She didn’t look back at Kenny as she moved toward the door. Matt and Nick stepped aside so she could exit, and she hurried out the door and into the hall, stumbling on the edge, using what little strength she had left to at least make it somewhere private before she broke down.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex stood next to Callie at Gorilla, her eyes trained on the monitor in front of them, chewing her lip so hard that it started to hurt. Neither of them had said so much as a word to each other since the 12-man tag match had started. They were both far too wrapped up in their own thoughts and concerns about the men in the ring.

She held her breath as Stu Grayson and Nine set up Adam for a double vertical suplex; but Dax and Cash came in for the save, catching Adam before he could hit the mat. Kenny joined them, and they all lined up and hit a four-on-three triple vertical suplex against Grayson, Nine, and Evil Uno. Adam went for the pin—but Colt Cabana flew in and broke it up.

Callie let out a breath. “Well, they’ve actually been working pretty well together so far,” she remarked.

Alex didn’t say anything in response. Much to her surprise, they had been working well together so far, and Dark Order hadn’t been able to get in much offense at all. But Kenny and Cash had also largely avoided each other. It was an easy thing to do in a match with so many people.

Smack!

Shit.” Alex’s hand flew to her mouth. After Colt had broken up the pin attempt, Kenny had given chase to him around the ring—and he’d run straight into a massive superkick from Brodie Lee.

The domination by The Elite and FTR ended at that point. Grayson and Uno isolated Kenny in the ring, taking turns beating him down. Alex almost didn’t want to watch. But then Five tagged in, and Kenny managed to dive for a tag to Dax.

Kenny rolled to the floor outside the ring while FTR went to work on Five. He charged Cash in the corner, but Cash floated over him, rebounded off the ropes, and caught him in a resounding powerslam. Then Grayson ran in, but Cash hit him with a back suplex, followed by a powerful clothesline to take out Evil Uno right after.

“Damn,” Callie smirked at her. “That’s your man.”

Alex’s stomach churned. That was her man. And he had no idea he was sharing her heart with someone else.

They turned their attention back to the match. FTR and Adam were all in the ring. They looked like they were attempting to put simultaneous figure four leg locks on Five, Grayson, and Uno; but before they could, the three members of the Dark Order all kicked them away at once, sending them crashing into each other.

After that, The Elite took over. Kenny returned to the match and worked impeccably with Adam against Five and Grayson, and Nick showed off why he was the best high-flier in the company. But Alex’s eyes were on Cash, watching him as he stood on the ring apron with Dax. It was subtle, but she could tell that he didn’t like standing by while Kenny and the rest of The Elite took all the glory. She was certain it didn’t help when Kenny and Nick started pandering to the camera, chanting, “The Elite! The-the Elite!”

Eventually, Dax tagged in. He grabbed Five and held him across his knee, setting up for Demolition Decapitation. But when Cash delivered the tandem move from the middle rope, Dax fell to the mat, clutching his right knee.

“Oh no,” Callie gasped.

Alex watched in concerned silence as Cash went to check on his partner. Meanwhile, Kenny tagged in and hit a Dr. Wiley Bomb on Five; but other members of Dark Order broke up the pin attempt.

After that, Kenny was left to fend for himself. Cash and the ringside trainer helped Dax to the back—as did Adam. Nick and Matt watched after him as he went, completely confused as to why he was going with them.

So was Callie. “What is he doing?”

Alex didn’t know what to say. She thought back to what Adam had told her that weekend, how he felt more comfortable with FTR than he did The Elite. She wondered if he’d said as much to Callie after she’d left. But then Adam appeared, passing through the Gorilla curtain after FTR and the trainer. Callie sent him a perplexed look.

“Adam, what are you doing?”

He didn’t break his stride as he looked at her over his shoulder. “What?” he returned, as if he didn’t understand why she was asking such a thing. “He’s hurt, Callie.”

Callie gaped back at him. “But your tag team partner is still out there…” she said, more to herself than him. He was already gone.  

They both turned back to the monitor. It was a six-on-three match now, and Dark Order was taking turns beating down Matt. Colt nearly scored the victory for his team after hitting a big splash off the top rope, but Matt kicked out. He got a last burst of energy and did his best to fend them off; Callie cheered when he hit Five with a springboard stunner. Seeing an opening, he tried to tag in Nick—but Evil Uno pulled him to the floor and delivered a brutal belly-to-belly suplex that flattened him.

Once again, Matt was left to keep his team alive. But then a blur ran past Callie and Alex. Adam. He hurried to the ring apron, extending his arm out to Matt. He tagged him in—and Adam went ballistic. He delivered lariats to Grayson and Five before launching himself over the ropes and taking out Colt with a crossbody. Then he jumped back in the ring and delivered another lariat that sent Five over the ropes before running and diving through the ropes in a suicide dive to take out Nine.

Alex stole a glance at Callie. She expected her to be wildly cheering Adam on with the crowd—but she looked confused still. “Where the hell is Kenny?” she suddenly asked.

“There,” Alex said with a nod as he appeared on the other side of the ring apron from where Adam stood. But then Adam climbed atop the turnbuckle and did a moonsault onto all of Dark Order except Brodie—and Mr. Lee was not happy.

Adam picked Five up and tossed him back into the ring, climbing in after him. He threw him face-first into the turnbuckle, goading Brodie to tag in. It worked. He stepped through the ropes and the two men sized each other up. Adam started talking shit, and Alex smirked; that was the Hangman she knew. But then Brodie struck. They started trading big blows in the middle of the ring, but Dark Order gained the upper hand by opening the ropes just as Adam tried to rebound off them, sending him falling to the floor below. Brodie dove through the ropes and hit him like a battering ram, and Adam slammed into the guardrail. But Brodie didn’t waste a second; he immediately threw him back into the ring. The next thing they knew, Adam was draped across Colt’s shoulders as he stood atop the middle rope, a soon-to-be victim of the Chicago Skyline.

He hit the move. Callie and Alex both winced as Adam ricocheted off the turnbuckle and rolled lifelessly to the center of the mat. “Okay seriously, where the fuck is Kenny?” Callie asked again as Colt went for the pin. Her question was answered went Kenny suddenly dove into the ring, breaking up the pin attempt at two.

“Finally!” Callie breathed. She was obviously frustrated. Maybe Adam had told her how he’d been feeling about The Elite, Alex thought.

Kenny and Adam did their best to regain control, but Grayson and Evil Uno hit them with a combination 450 splash and corner cannonball. Kenny rolled out of the ring while Grayson covered Adam—but he kicked out a two.

“Yes!” Callie and Alex both proclaimed. They exchanged a grin.

Grayson tagged in Brodie. But before he could hit Adam with a discus lariat, Matt and Nick jumped into the ring and delivered a Superkick Party just as Adam ducked out of the way. They did the same to Uno and Grayson, clearing the ring of everyone but Brodie.

Kenny slid back into the ring while Adam rolled out of it onto the ramp. Kenny charged and locked his arms behind Brodie’s head, and he and the Bucks hit a combination Superkick Party and snapdragon suplex to the leader of Dark Order.

Kenny pulled Brodie to his knees in the center of the ring and pointed at Adam as he climbed to his feet. Adam ran toward the ropes and flipped into the ring, going for the Buckshot Lariat; but Brodie ducked out of the way, causing him to nearly hit Kenny instead. Alex’s heart dropped into her stomach as Adam turned around. Brodie hit him with a massive lariat that sent him flipping head over heels onto the mat. He covered him, and the ref counted one-two-three.

“Fuck,” Alex breathed. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Oh my God.” Callie ran her hands through her hair, gripping at the ends. “This is the last thing he needs right now,” she said, just above her breath.

Kenny and the Bucks moved to check on Adam as Dark Order assembled victorious on the entrance ramp. Alex couldn’t watch anymore. “I’m gonna go find Cash,” she said to Callie.

She nodded. “Yeah, go. I’ll deal with this.”

Alex gave her a tight smile as she turned and hurried out of Gorilla. She really did want to go find Cash and see if Dax was alright. But she also just didn’t want to be there when Kenny came back through the curtain.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that night, Alex laid in bed with Cash in their hotel room, scrolling through her Twitter timeline on her phone. The room was quiet—almost awkwardly so. But there was far too much weighing on her right now. Keeping her mouth shut seemed like the safest option, no matter how much it pained her.

Her timeline was inundated with tweets about the 12-man tag match, hours after it had happened. She came across one speculating about Dax’s injury; thankfully, he’d just tweaked his knee. But it was bad enough that the trainer had told him he needed to rest it for the next few days.

She abruptly stopped scrolling when she came across a video of Adam nearly nailing Kenny with the Buckshot Lariat. She watched it a few times over with the sound off, trying to gauge Kenny’s reaction; but it was too hard to tell. She hoped Kenny knew it was a complete accident. She hoped Adam didn’t blame himself for the loss.

Suddenly, Cash took her phone and gently pulled it out of her hands. She gave him a confused look as he set it on the nightstand with his. “What’re you doing?”

He didn’t say anything; he just pulled her closer and kissed her. His tongue parted her lips, tasting her, and Alex welcomed his touch. She ran her hand up the back of his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair, relishing the feel of him. He moved his mouth to her neck. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmured against her skin.

She went rigid and then instantly tried to relax again, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “Nothing’s wrong,” she lied.

“Yes there is.” He pulled back and looked down at her. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Alex’s heart dropped into her stomach. There was more than just concern in Cash’s eyes as he stared into hers. There was love. And suddenly, she knew she couldn’t hide it from him anymore.

“I kissed Kenny.”

She almost couldn’t hear herself say it, her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears. But she didn’t miss the way Cash’s expression changed. Confusion. Disbelief. “What?”

Tears sprung into Alex’s eyes, burning her sinuses. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.    

He sat up, pulling away from her. His sudden distance made the air feel cold. “When?”

“Last week,” she said. The rest of it came tumbling out in a rush. “I went to talk to him during your match about something Matt Jackson had said to me earlier in the day. But when I got there he gave me a locket he’d had made for me. He told me he’s in love with me.”

Cash sat up further. “What?”

Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I was overwhelmed and I wasn’t thinking—”

She abruptly stopped when Cash flung back the covers and sprung out of bed. Alex watched as he haphazardly pulled on a pair of sweats. She felt herself start to panic. “What’re you doing?”

He didn’t justify her with a response. Instead, he charged out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Alex sat there for a second, stunned in the deafening silence. And then she realized exactly what he was doing.

She scrambled out from under the covers and ran out the door after him. He was already halfway down the hall. Headed straight for Kenny’s room.

“Cash, wait!” she begged, shouting after him. But he didn’t stop—not until he was in front of Kenny’s door. Alex moved her legs faster.

He balled up a fist and banged so hard on the door that it reverberated down the hall. “Open up, Kenny!” he yelled, deep and angry in his chest.

“Please don’t do this,” Alex pleaded. Kenny opened the door just as she reached him.

“What the f—”

He didn’t get to finish before Cash punched him hard in the mouth.

Kenny stumbled back into the room and fell to the floor. Cash was on him in an instant. He grabbed him by the hair and hit him again.

“STOP!” Alex bellowed. Suddenly, Matt and Nick came flying from next door. They charged into the room and forcefully pried Cash off of Kenny.

“Get the fuck off me!” Cash shouted as they struggled to hold him back. He was enraged. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Kenny? Huh? Telling another man’s girlfriend you’re in love with her?”

Kenny smirked up at him. His mouth was red with blood. “What?” he taunted. “Are you worried about it?”

Cash tried to lunge at him again, but Matt managed to force him out the door and into the hall, nearly bowling over Alex in the process. Nick slammed the door closed, staying in the room with Ken. Matt gave Cash a final hard shove before pointing a stern finger in his face.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck outta here.”

But Cash wasn’t intimidated. “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do, Matt? Suspend me?”

Matt took a threatening step forward. “I’ll fucking fire you.”

Alex stood rooted to her spot, petrified, afraid to even breathe as the two men stared each other down. She’d never seen Matt so angry, and she didn’t doubt for a second that he would fire Cash. But, thankfully, Cash swallowed his pride and turned and stalked back off down the hall without another word.

It took a second for Alex to get her legs to work so she could follow after him. “Cash, wait,” she said again—and again, he didn’t stop or look back. She hurried to keep up with him. As soon as they were back inside their room, he whirled around to face her, stopping her dead. His eyes were hard.

“You kissed him?”

She had to swallow a lump in her throat before she could answer. “Yes.”

He let out a breath, ran a hand through his hair. He turned and walked further into the room. “Did anything else—” but he cut himself off, shaking his head. “Actually, no. I don’t even want to know. Because I knew—I knew you weren’t over him.”

The accusation knocked the air from Alex’s lungs. She felt hollow. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

He looked back at her. And as they stared at each other from across the room, Alex realized that the hardness in his eyes wasn’t out of anger. It was out of hurt. “Alex… you need to figure out who you want: me or him.”

She took a step forward. “I want—”

“No,” he shook his head, cutting her off. “Don’t say you want me because it’s the right thing to say right now. You need to think about it. And so do I.”

He turned away from her again. “Cash…”

“You should probably sleep somewhere else tonight.”

That was the final blow. It cut her legs out from underneath her, gutted her from pelvis to sternum. And it felt like she’d done it to herself.

She walked over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. Their gaze met as he sat down on the bed. His eyes were glassy.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, and she turned and went out the door with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been.

[raziroo]

2. Demon Child (Pt. I) - Remus Lupin

Pairing : Remus Lupin x Reader

Genre : Angst, teeny weeny fluff.

Warnings : Abusive home conditions, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of death.

Word Count : 4,581

~~~~~

Seven months. Seven months I'd spent with him, and had fallen in love with him, rather unfortunately, might I add. Because even though I knew I loved him ever since the kiss, it was an even more surreal feeling, knowing that finally, finally I was in love. Finally I had become capable to feel humane emotions in appropriate proportions after a long, numb seven years.

But then she came back. Crystal Hollander came back, and ruined everything that was good in my life, just like she had in my sixth year. 

.....

The Death Eater attack was unexpected and out of the blue; therefore the deaths and injuries were in such great proportions.

Sadly, painfully, torturously, Cynthia had also perished in the attack, simply due to Crystal being her usual dumb self. The girl, in all her blonde hair and knife-like nailed glory, had been thick enough to not keep her eyes on the Death Eater she and three other witches were duelling, Cynthia included. 

The Death Eater took advantage of the split-second distraction, obviously, and so Cynthia jumped in front of Crystal, shielding the latter, and getting hit by the curse instead. It hadn't been the Killing Curse, however; the Death Eater had used a curse that melted your insides. 

And I, along with all the other horrified spectators, could do nothing but watch as my friend screamed and cried and groaned, all noises of pure and utter agony. Her body was disintegrating in such a grotesque fashion, you wouldn't be able to fathom what I saw unless you saw it too. 

Finally, her body fully vanished, no trace of her left, and the Death Eater who had attacked her let out a laugh. Unmasking himself, I saw a face I certainly wouldn't have expected to see in a million years. Cynthia's father, Magnus Fawley, the man who was supposed to be dead. 

And as the moments passed, I continued staring at the hysteric man, my blood boiling, my eyes seeing red. Before I, or anyone, for that matter, could do anything, the Death Eaters had all apparated away. 

Cynthia hadn't been built a memoir like all the other deceased witches and wizards, even with eyewitnesses. The ministry simply wasn't ready to believe that Cynthia was innocent and hadn't let her father and company into Hogwarts, that she was the victim. 

There hasn't been a grave made for her either; what would they even bury? Every fiber of my friend's being had been cursed out of existence, and the Ministry couldn't even give her a memoir. I had been furious, livid, to say the least, and was ready to kill. 

My mood had again shifted to that ferocious animal that didn't let anyone close, didn't break down her walls for anyone; the type of person that people would want to keep away from. My entire seventh year had been spent fighting for my friend's grave; I hadn't even cared if I didn't pass my N.E.W.T.s, I just wanted a memoir for my friend, justice for her, proof, that Cynthia Rosamond Fawley, a pure blood Slytherin, was innocent, that she wasn't involved in the Death Eater attack. Of course, except the eyewitnesses, no one was ready to believe me. Even some of the eyewitnesses had turned away, not wanting to be declared as 'crazy' in the Daily Prophet, as I had been. 

However, by the end of 1978, I had realized that there was no way in heaven or hell that these dumb wizards and witches would be accepting of my friend's innocence. That didn't mean that I stopped fighting, I did, just a lot more quietly.

On a pleasant day of March of 1979, I'd been sitting in this coffee shop near the end of Diagon Alley, researching a book called "Lethal Jinxes and Curses - 101 Ways to Get Away with Murder Without Using an Unforgivable".

Me reading the book could be suspicious to some, as the aura I radiated suited the book's genre and title; I, however, had no lethal intentions, I just wanted to research what the inside-melting curse was called. I obviously recognised the curse because I'd read about it somewhere, I'd just forgotten it's name. Hence the book.

I was more than a bit startled, then, when somebody chose to sit in the seat opposite me, in the most secluded corner of the little cafe. Not looking up, I droned, "Whichever painfully idiotic moron has decided to sit opposite me, please leave." The person made no move. "Now."

"Why do you want me to leave?" questioned a mildly familiar voice. Finally removing my eyes off of the text, I was shocked to see a lanky, sand-haired, scar-faced, secret-keeping Gryffindor before me - Remus Lupin.

Raising an eyebrow, I leaned back in my chair, staring right into the boy's green-blue eyes. He kept my gaze for a long period of time, before ultimately adressing the elephant in the room, my gaze still unwavering. "Why are you here, Gryffindor?"

He immediately responded. "Does there have to be a reason? I just wanted to sit here."

"Here? In front of the crazy Slytherin who's dumbly defending her guilty pureblood friend? You shouldn't. After all, you and the... Marauders have quite a reputation to uphold, don't you think? Gryffindor's Golden students?" I asked, in a heavily mocking tone. 

He didn't seem fazed. "We don't think you're dumb."

I had almost responded in a biting retort, when I realized what the man said. "'We'? Who's 'we'?"

He slipped up. It was clear in his expression. "The Marauders," he said, so smoothly I would almost have been convinced. Almost. "Don't lie to me, Gryffindor."

"Why do yo-?"

"Look Gryffindor, when you've gone through the amount of lying that I've done, you can catch a liar from a mile away. Also, you're a pretty bad liar, in comparison to your other buddies." I jumped my eyebrows.

The man opened his mouth to speak several times, closing it always, striking resemblance to a fish. He looked down at his lap, finally breaking the gaze. My eyes, however, were still set on him. 

"By 'we', I meant the Order of the Phoenix," he said the last part quietly. 

"Order of the Phoenix? What's that?" I asked, leaning forward and resting my palms on the table, actually interested.

"It's... The reason I'm here," he said, looking up. "Your friend... Cynthia, right?"

"Right."

"A couple of my friends were present there, they're eyewitnesses. They saw whatever... And well, I'm sorry for your lo-"

"Don't apologise, Lupin, just get on with what you have to say. I don't have the whole day, you know," I said, exasperated and curious. 

"The Order was impressed by your determination to prove Cynthia innocent and get a memoir built for her, even when the Ministry has declared you 'deranged'. Even your duelling skills are pretty good... And with all the reading you do," he motioned to the book with his eyes, "I- the Order thinks that you'd make a good member."

"Hm. And what exactly does the Order do?" I had to say, I would certainly appreciate if I was accepted in this Order thing. Just... I needed to know what work they did. 

"We're a secret rebellion against Voldemort. We-"

"No."

Lupin looked surprised. "Pardon?"

"I said no, Gryffindor," my tone was sharp and cutting. 

"OK, at least think about your decis-"

"No, Gryffindor. Thank you," and with that, I got up and stormed out. I couldn't possibly agree to that. Those people would only end up getting hurt. 

•••••

My dream, or rather, nightmare, hadn't been a pleasant one. 

I was standing on... Something, I couldn't make out what. Why? Because even though I was able to see my body, my hands clearly, my surroundings were so very dark. The inky blackness extended to as far as my eyes would go, and it was scary. 

Wanting answers, I treaded forward with caution, my hands held out in front of me so as to be able to make out if there were walls surrounding me. I walked left for about a minute, no walls. Right for the same time period, nothing there as well. I went as far as I possibly could without beginning to hyperventilate. 

Somehow, I had managed to slip, and was now falling at a great speed. My arms and legs were extended out above me, my torso falling as if it carried weight. I tried moving, flailing my arms or something, but it was as if I was paralyzed. 

Finally, after a terrifyingly long period of falling into an abyss of ebony, my body landed. In... a dining hall, it seemed like? The place had an ominous vibe to it, a sinister vibe. I instantly knew there was danger lurking here; the aura the place radiated was enough to tell me that. There was a long dining table in the centre of the room, chairs lining both it's sides, with one chair at the head of the table. 

Just as I was about to take a step forward to investigate, I heard a whisper-y voice, one that gave me goosebumps. Being it soft, the voice was still blood-curdling; I knew the owner of the voice wasn't one to be messed with. 

"Welcome, brother," the voice said. And suddenly, my mind went blank. I think my mouth was open, and I was speaking, but I couldn't make out what I was saying. It was as if I had retarded to a subconscious state, while my body was being controlled by another. 

Just as I heard a booming laugh, my eyes snapped open, and I found my vision focusing on the ceiling of my room.

•••••

Over the past couple weeks, I had been constantly having such nightmares, and I was losing sleep. My body was restless at night, and throughout the day my mind was occupied with thoughts of the voice, and how after a greeting to 'brother', my mind routinely blacked out, until the very last moment. 

My boss had already threatened to fire me, and I certainly wasn't keen on losing my job; I had an apartment to pay for. My anxiety levels had increased by an unhealthy amount, and that was the precise reason I was currently waiting to speak with the receptionist of St. Mungo's. 

I had been waiting in the line for about 10 minutes, and I was, as recent usuality, was contemplating my dreams. That voice, it had seemed recognisable, like I'd heard it before, but I just couldn't remember where; the name was always on my tongue, but due to some reason or the other, I was always interrupted. 

The most recent time was when-

BANG! 

An explosion rang out throughout the hospital's first floor, the floor directly above us. A large chunk of the floor fell down, crushing a couple people underneath, as dust and gravel rose up, making me and other witches and wizards cough. I snatched out my wand from its holster, ready to take on any threats that approached. 

I had been right in doing so, because not a moment later a hoard of Death Eaters stormed the hospital; the patients all ran around screaming and shielding their children, apparating away, while the healers and nurses scampered around summoning aurors and trying to control the mess. A group of Death Eaters attacked the group of people I was standing with, so without a second thought, I threw a spell at them. And then it began, a duel, a series of harmful and offensive spells, beams and flashes of light, and a lot of swearing and cursing on my part. 

After, what I assume were, a couple minutes, aurors and Ministry officials flooded the place, and the Death Eaters were getting overpowered. However, I soon spotted a familiar face; a couple of them, actually. Remus Lupin and James Potter, duelling against Magnus Fawley and Rabastan LeStrange. 

LeStrange soon caught my eye, and nudged his partner-in-crime. As the Death Eaters' attention shifted to me, so did the Gryffindors'. The Vipers approached me, and before they even got a chance of coming close, I fired. Now, look, I had no doubt that the Gryffindors weren't good duellers, they were pretty good; it was just the Death Eaters I was worried about, the spells they knew. Because even if they were good, the Gryffindors had no idea of what appalling spells the Dark Lord taught his followers. 

The three of us Slytherins were now caught in a frenzy of curses and jinxes, the Gryffindors had been caught up in fighting a few other mask-bearers, a couple of their companions had joined in as well. 

"You know that I won't hesitate to kill you, right?" Magnus jeered at me, our wands still moving. 

"Oh, I have no doubt. After all, you killed your own daughter, Magnus Fawley, you absolute bastard," I retorted, more than a little out of breath. 

He scowled. "It was for the Greater Good, child! It is all for the Greater Good!" he exclaimed. "Join our ranks, and you will get all that you deserve, but don't have! Your power will be put to correct use!"

I stayed silent for a couple moments, actually considering the idea. LeStrange and Fawley looked hopeful. "Not in a million years, you bloody-" I then proceeded to put to use my extremely colorful vocabulary. 

He sneered, and the intensity of his spells increased. 

I was running out of energy, and I may even have escaped, for there were other people coming forth to involve themselves in the vicious duel, but a spell hit me on the back of my head, and my senses went blank. 

•••••

I hated Voldemort. That noseless git was incredibly infuriating, but also extremely powerful; his aura exuded power. I hated being held hostage in the Malfoy Manor, and have various Death Eaters mock me. 

But the true shock came when Voldemort himself came to visit me in my cell, and he said two words that I would've never imagined would be said by him. "Welcome, brother, " the Dark Lord greeted in his raspy, breathy voice, and I screamed. Screamed because I was experiencing unbearable pain in my head and chest; I writhed and thrashed in hopes to escape the binds of the chains that held me in the cell. 

Some time later, I don't know how much later, as I'd been busy screaming my insides out, the pain finally stopped. Looking up, I met eyes with the Dark Lord himself. He looked down at me. 

"hm. Are you aware of the fact, that a spirit lies within you?" Way to be straightforward. 

"Like... Ghosts? "I was honestly baffled.

"No, an ancient form of magic, which I'm positive you aren't familiar with. This particular form of magic is especially difficult to carry out; after all, transferring a dead spirit to a living human's body is an exceptional instance."

"So... Ghosts, basically."

"No! Foolish child... It is my brother, my deceased brother, who has taken home within your body. That is the precise reason you have been experiencing...nightmares, over the past few weeks. I prefer to call them visions-"

"I don't care what you prefer. And... Did you even have a brother, Tom? "

His eyes grew a startling scarlet, expression still stoic. "Do not call me that. And yes, I did have a brother. One who was killed by Dumbledore at an early age... Of 16. Dumbledore was afraid of what would happen if me and my brother succeeded in doing what we planned to, so he killed him... " 

I was so not ready for that. 

I had honestly forgotten the number of times Voldemort had come to my cell to talk to his brother, and how many times I had wanted to die instead of bear that pain. I was sure that I was already on the verge of insanity; the affliction was so bad, I couldn't even utter a single word. 

I so desperately wanted to tell someone about what was happening; if Voldemort found some way to resurrect his brother, the wizarding war would be already lost. One Voldemort was enough, we didn't need two. 

The free time also gave me a lot of pondering to do; I now understood my father's nickname for me, I knew that I needed to join The Order. If not that, I had to at least talk to Dumbledore, or even Lupin. This... Soul(?) that was in me, and the pain it gave me, I felt like I was in a muggle horror movie; I was as good as possessed by a demonic spirit. 

And as if the pain Voldemort's conversation with his brother gave me wasn't bad enough, there were his psycho Death Eaters, who were hell bent on making me pay for all the humiliation some of them had to suffer because of me. What can I say, I was pretty savage. 

Then there was Bellatrix, who was another case altogether; she seemed attracted to me. And maybe, maybe, I was overthinking, but the sexual tension between the both of us was palpable, it could literally be cut with a knife. She came close to my face often, licked her lips, seductively, and had ran her eyes over my body Merlin knows how many times. And I'd have to be lying to say that I didn't find her at least a bit attractive as well. However insane and cruel and psychotic might she be, I couldn't possibly say that she wasn't easy on the eyes. 

All in all, only Salazar could help me out of this situation. 

•••••

I had been asleep in an excruciatingly uncomfortable position on the floor of the cell, when I woke up to violent noises and shouts of people. I was certain that the voices were coming from the floor above me. I had only begun to actually process the situation in my half-asleep form when a hiss of "Greetings, brother," rang out in my ears, triggering the immense agony and torment that I so hated. I didn't really recall when I started sobbing, or when the headache actually went away, because now there was pain throughout my entire body. It was probably the Cruciatus curse; that wasn't the surprising thing though. It was the fact that this pain was just as bad as the headache, and considering all the other torture sessions that I'd previously had, this wasn't Lucy, or even Fawley. This was Bellatrix. 

Well, I guess she wasn't that attracted to me after all. 

I could fairly hear a deranged-sounding laughter; that was Bellatrix. After a couple seconds, I also made out a shrill scream; that was Bellatrix as well. 

The same time as she screamed, my agony stopped as well. I could honestly kiss whoever hurt that bitc- sorry, malicious... she-git. 

However, my pain hadn't really... Reduced, like it did after Voldemort's conversations ended; after he was done, there was only this sharp throbbing behind my right ear, I had gotten used to it. This aching, this soreness that I felt was the tormenting aftereffect of an even more tormenting torture session that I had just encountered. I was still gasping for breath, and even that caused me so much pain, I let out a few shouts in between. 

I was aware of the fact that the Cruciatus curse didn't have aftereffects this bad, even Bella's didn't. This pain I felt was because unlike normal, two people were feeling it; not only my conscious form, even my subconscious mind was also feeling the pain. I was feeling the pain, and so was Voldemort's brother. 

I could see a few people above me... a couple of redheads, a black-haired person, and a sandy-haired one. The Gryffindor and his friends. They cast a couple spells on me, and my pain reduced by a considerable amount. I was able to breathe properly, at least. Thank Merlin. 

My eyes closed, I managed to let out a breathy word. "Dumbledore."

"Dumble-? Why would you-? Di- did something happen?" I couldn't really make out who it was; my ears were still ringing. 

"It's not what happened, Gryffindor," I let out a breath and opened my eyes. "It's what will happen if you don't take me to him."

"My wand," I said, as we walked through the homely-looking corridor of The Order's headquarters. I stopped, turning to Lupin, who had his hand around me in an awkward attempt to help me walk. And it did help me walk, it was just that the situation was slightly awkward; we were as good as enemies at Hogwarts. 

He looked back at me, before glancing to his redhead friend, Fabian, I think. I wasn't sure though, even when he pulled out my wand from his coat pocket. His twin and him looked too similar for me to Ba able to differentiate. 

"Thank you," I said, taking my wand back; I felt slightly better and in control as soon as it came in my grip. 

About a minute later, we were at a mahogany door, on which one of the twins knocked. "Come in," said a muffled voice from inside. When the door was opened, I came across a sight which was - I had to admit - slightly intimidating. Around a long table, seated were many familiar people. Moody, McKinnon, the Longbottoms, Potter and Evans, Pettigrew, Shacklebolt, and a few of the Hogwarts professors, Dumbledore among them, sat at the head of the table. I raised an eyebrow, as all eyes turned to us. 

Most of the eyes held suspicion; I was a Slytherin, after all. 

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked in his ever-so-gentle voice. 

"Profe-" Black began, but I cut him off. 

"I need to talk to you, Professor."

"Well, you can do it here as well, miss," he said, motioning around to the group of people. "I trust each of them with my life."

"I would appreciate it if it was only between both of us, professor. You trust them, I don't." I ran my eyes over the table, landing them back at Dumbledore. 

"Well then, follow me."

•••••

After the conversation with Dumbledore, I had been kept in a room in the Order's headquarters, so that I could heal. Each day, I got food, clothes, and was nursed back to health. 

I was grateful, but that didn't stop me from escaping the cottage. I felt so out of place, and if i added the looks I got on top of that, well, Merlin save me. My guilt complex had come into unwanted use; I had no reason to feel guilty, but yet I did. So, unlike I should have, I escaped the order's HQ while the members were in missions, and Molly was busy taking care of Bill. But not without a 'thank you' note though. 

•••••

I had been sitting in my spot in the coffee shop, reading "Potions and Poisons: Revised Edition" when a familiar face took the seat opposite me. 

"What is it, Gryffindor?"

"How do you know it's me?" I could practically hear the raised brow in his voice. 

"Because all the other people in this cafe are scared of me," I said, my tone indifferent. 

"And... That doesn't bother you?"

"When I was eleven, it did. Now I'm comfortable with it."

"What...?"

I finally looked up, coming face-to-face with a befuddled Lupin. "People have always stayed away from me. I don't even remember how much I've cried because of that. But now it's my safe place, being alone," I shrugged. Lupin looked troubled. "Look Gryffindor, you think it's strange because you were never really lonely. I always was, so it's comfortable for me. I don't really know how to stay in parties or stuff. It's human nature; getting used to how you live."

"But... You did have a friend."

"Who's dead now, courtesy of her father," I said nonchalantly. "Anyways, Gryffindor, what's you here for?"

"I- uh, nothing, really... I guess... I wanted to talk to you...?" he looked nervous. I studies his face for a moment more, and then chuckled. He looked surprised. "What's funny?"

"You, Gryffindor. You didn't know why you came to me? And talking to me was questionable? That's offending."

"I- no! No, no, I wasn't-" I burst out laughing. The poor Gryffindor looked so troubled. 

"Relax, Lupin. I was being sarcastic."

•••••

It was now November of 1979, and it was unbelievable how close I had gotten to Lupin. We would often meet in the cafe, or sometimes in the old library in Hogsmeade, or even in the outskirts of the forest of the Shrieking Shack. 

And as much as it felt weird and strange and unlike me to say so, I had begun having feelings towards the man. He was polite, sassy, sarcastic, bookish, and so much more. He was so like me, yet so different. And I knew by what Dumbledore had said, we would both end up getting hurt in the end, if something ever happened. I often got the hint that my feelings were reciprocated, but I felt foolish each time I thought so. This was Remus Lupin we were talking about, Gryffindor prefect, studious pupil, fun and popular student, part of the Marauders, friends with James Potter and Sirius Black. Why would he be attracted to me, a loner, resented by purebloods, Hufflepuffs were scared of me, and Gryffindors loathed me simply because I was a Slytherin. And even if he did, it would never work out, not in a million years. With Voldemort part two's soul in me, I was basically satanically possessed. 

So when I got the news that the Gryffindor and his friends had been maimed while on a mission, as the headlines screamed, I was worried out of my mind. I had literally apparated to St. Mungo's while I was on the five minute break of my muggle job. 

"Um, where is the Gryff- sorry, uh, Mr. Remus Lupin's ward? He'll be with Sirius Black and James Potter, probably Lily Evans as well," I blurted to the St. Mungo's receptionist. She looked a bit startled, but helped me out nonetheless. "Room 308."

"Thanks a lot," I said, then rushed up to the third floor. I then took a couple of deep breathes, trying to calm myself down. Once that was done, I proceeded to stride to room no. 308, and as I opened the door, my eye instantly caught the warm light green ones of Lupin. I let out a breath, relief flooding me, as my eyes scanned his body, stood behind Potter, who was talking to Black, who lay on the bed. 

"Wh- what are you doin-" I cut him off, however, as I went forward, and without a second thought, cupped my hands around the man's face, and kissed him. He didn't move his lips for the first second, which filled me with dread, but then he melted into the kiss as well, placing his hands on my waist. Separating for breath, I chuckled at the man's expression, then hugged the life out of him. He hugged me back. 

Pulling back, I bit my lip. "I like you, Gryffindor, if that wasn't clear until now," I blurted out, a slight smile on my face. 

He laughed. "The feelings are mutual," he said, blushing. I looked around the room, chuckling as well. When my eyes met the surprises faces of Evans, Black, and Potter, I just shrugged. "What?"

[gloves94]

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 7

Warnings: None   Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Zuko/OC   Summary:  “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…”  His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

Feeling smug about the events at the abbey and riding that beast around the land Tsai decided to go for a walk to clear her head.

Should she have done more to capture the Avatar?

It would've been wrong to steal Zuko's glory. After all he had made capturing the Avatar his life's mission and who was she to try and take that away from him? And then he always said that she only got in the way. This thought irked her to no end. 'If only he knew,' a cocky smirk made way to her face.

xxx

'Again!' Her grandfather had once said to her.

'But grandpa! I'm so tired. We've been practicing all day the nine year old dropped to her knees exhausted. 'Mecha doesn't even have train half as much as I do with his fire bending.'

He looked at her with hard brown eyes.

'Mecha can afford to be weak. He has the gift of fire bending and I'm afraid you don't.' She lowered her light brown eyes sadly. 'You're always going to work twice as hard for everything that you want Tsai. Both as a woman and as a non-bender.' He explained.

He took in a deep breath before the older man took a fighting stance. The man was about to bark again but instead changed his mind. 'Come with me,' he had said turning away calmly instructing his grand daughter to follow. 'I want to give you something.'

xxx

The girl toyed with the choker sunstone necklace around her neck. He had given it to her that day and she had seldom taken it off. Her grandfather had said it had once belonged to her grandmother. An elegant lady from the Fire Nation whom Tsai had never met since she passed the day in which she was born. Her grandfather rarely spoke about her, she always assumed the memory was too painful for the man. However, in family portraits and paintings she had seen that they both shared the indistinguishably blazing red hair.

Zuko had been terribly rude to her the day before so he deserved to suffer out his paralysis for a little while longer. She did not want to be around by the time that June awoke and face her wrath and she had the feeling that Iroh was in a heavenly bliss with the beautiful woman laying on him. And so she traveled the local market and took her sweet time buying rare herbs, tea and even some local perfumes and lotions as souvenirs for her family.

She took her sweet time, even pulling her wrist to her nose every once in a while to enjoy the scent of her new perfume. However, as she attempted to steer her thoughts clear she kept on flashbacking to the Avatar's expression as their eyes met across the abbey. She still hadn't figured how to interpret that. The Avatar, he was a symbol for equality. Maybe just maybe he would be able to help her bring some peace to her nation... Would she be considered an aid to him? Letting him go like that? She would've become a blood traitor to not only her family but to her nation. The daughter of the Vice-Royal Governor a traitor to her own people- she shook her head not even wanting to think of the royal chaos that would be.

She still debated if she had done the right or wrong decision in not fighting the Airbender. There was something about it that bothered her to no end.

The sun was setting by the time that Tsai arrived on the ship. She arrived just in time to see the soldiers stepping out.

"We're going to the local market for some supplies," explained the cook. "While the mechanics check the ship engine and make sure everything is well functioning." Not giving it much mind the girl nodded and walked in. "Also-" Added the lieutenant. "This arrived for you," he said handing her a scroll that arrived with one of the ship's fire hawks.

It had to be from Mecha! She grinned broadly and leaned against the one of the ship's walls cooly as she unwrapped the scroll snacking on some mixed nuts she had gotten at the market.

Her heart stopped and a nut went the wrong way when she read the words that her brother had writte. She beat her chest in an effort to lodge it out of place and gasped at the attached paper he sent.

It was a WANTED - REWARD poster with her face plastered on it. The charges were the following: obstruction of justice, breaking in entering restricted military premises and being an accomplice and aiding of enemies of the Fire Nation. Under the information was a very well descript drawing of her. Names: Unknown, alias "Haru".

'Tsai,

Tell me why my sister 's face is on a wanted poster and goes by the alias of "Haru?"

This is either the coolest of the dumbest thing you have ever done. (Know that I am having it framed and hanged in my room). I have been hiding the posters from mom and dad and the rest of You Dao but it won't be long before somebody realizes that it is you and identifies you. I'm afraid you can't get very far with that bloody hair color of yours my dearest sister.

A traitor to the nation huh? Just what are you doing in that boat with the banished prince and his uncle? I have been taking care of all of your governing duties, so do not worry about that. Baku, Moss and Ana send their helloes. It's been nice getting to know some of your friends.

(Mother keeps asking if we should plan a Royal wedding- ignore that. (She insisted that I wrote that.) I had to remind her that you are ONLY just sixteen.)'

She rapidly flipped the page of the scroll and read his inked words in the back.

'And in regards of the Avatar.' He began. 'I wish I could just ship the library to you. But after extensive research I'm afraid I didn't find much. I mean why would there be any texts about the Avatar in the Fire Nation colonies to begin with?

However, here is what I can tell you. Air benders are particularly skilled in defensive techniques. They were known to be peaceful people, have mainly vegetarian diets, their leadership was guided by monks- they are known to be fast and easy on their feet. One hasn't been seen in more than a hundred years. Also apparently they were famous for their custard pies.

In regards of the Avatar- His last life was Avatar Roku born in the Fire Nation, the next will be born a water bender. You see the Avatar follows a cycle. Fire, Air, Water and Earth. It follows this cycle over and over again and must master the elements in that order. In this case it's going to be Air, Water, Earth and Fire. Get what I mean?

I hope I was of help. I miss you Tsai. Please be safe. Do not make me worry. I don't know how much dad can do to pardon you if you get into too much trouble.

Be safe, please.

If you're getting in trouble... I hope it's worth it.

- Mecha'

The nuts slipped off her hand and spilled all over the floor. She ran inside of the Captain cabin on the deck's floor where she knew that all of the maps and Avatar information was being kept. She pointed a finger at it and lightly traced the map with her finger. It seemed as if Zuko had been following the Avatar's trail all the way from the Southern Water Tribe up north. He had been traveling north for some months now and simply seemed to be climbing higher and higher in the map. It was then that the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

"He's going to the Northern Water Tribe," she breathed her finger landed on the icy north pole. It made sense. The Avatar had already mastered air, he had to master water now if he wanted to advance to the next element.

"He's going to the water tribe," she repeated again almost in disbelief. She had figured it out. Her grip tightened around the letter her brother had sent. Dropping the goods she had bought she sprinted outside and tore the letter into the ocean. She leaned over the rail her eyes following the bits and pieces of paper that drifted down to the black waters and vanished into the darkness of the sea.

She had to get out of here. And fast. Before Admiral Zhao's men came to lock her up and collect their reward. She felt that Zuko wouldn't hesitate in fingering her over to the Fire Nation authorities. He'd be more than glad to have her of his ship! What if they got in trouble? What if her family got in trouble?

She had done a grave mistake. Feeling her anxiety churning in her stomach she quickly turned around ready to gather her belongings and leave but suddenly stopped in her way. Prince Zuko was standing a few feet away on the ship's deck and he did not look happy. He wore his hair up, his eyes appeared to glow with the sun which was setting behind them. It took her a moment to realize that he wasn't only unhappy, he was fuming, absolutely and completely livid.

"You!" He snarled out. He stomped towards her. "You had him in front of you and you let him go!" He put his hands on her and shoved her in a provocative matter. "What are you talking about?" She scoffed back pushing his hands of her person. "The Avatar!" The other roared. "He spoke to you! You had him in front of you and you let him go!" He raged.

In Zuko's eyes this was the greatest betrayal. She had had the opportunity to capture his honor. To help him. To for once to help him reach his ultimate goal and she didn't. Instead she stood there and conversed with the enemy. She was a snake. A beautiful venomous red snake that would slowly consume him.

"How could you do this to me?!" His voice cracked and he shuffled uncomfortably at the crack of his emotions.

"How could I do this?" She raised an eyebrow confused. "What did you want me to do? Knock him out with my bare hands?," She once again scoffed at his ridiculous suggestion with heavy sarcasm. "I guess I just didn't want to "Get in your way,"" She said nastily before brushing past him brushing past his shoulder as she passed him.

She didn't see it. The rage and anger that was boiling inside of him like a volcano ready to explore.

"Agni Kai! You and Me. Now!" He demanded, his voice hard and void of emotion. She looked over her shoulder and huffed before shaking her head.

"You can't do that," she turned once again granting him her full attention. Her eyes momentarily drifted to the dock. Just where was Iroh? Or anybody else? SOMEBODY that could intervene.

"Now!" He roared once again.

"You're insane," she said eyes blowing wide with a blend of shock and fear. "You've gone mad. I'm not like my brother. I can't bend fire."

It was then that he walked towards the nearby wall and grabbed a broom that was leaning against the wall. With one swift movement he split it into two breaking it over his knee.

"Who said anything about fire?" He said raising up he a half of the broom in one hand and aggressively thrusting it in her direction. She shifted her body dodging it and looked at him perplexed before he threw the other half at her, the half with the hay sticks at the end that was functional for sweeping. She barely caught it and held it awkwardly between her hands.

She was beginning to regret ever coming abroad this ship. This was a huge mistake. Coming on this trip. It was then that he charged towards her, and now Zuko was going to make a roasted kabob out of her.

"I am not going to fight you!" She protested as she dodged his swift attacks. She blocked another with her makeshift broom sword. "Zuko stop!" She pleaded.

He attacked again. "Good reflexes, "he complimented the slightest grin on his face.

"I'm trying my best," she struggled but failed to hide the odd smirk that was also growing on her features.

It was finally that with a handful of clever hits and swats he whipped the wooden sword out of her hands. Her back was pressed against the deck's railing she was cornered and heaving. Sweat slid down her temple from the strain of fighting him. He presently had the wooden stick directly pointed at her throat.

It was almost night now. With the sun glowing an orange light and the clouds turning shades of pink, lavender and dark purple.

"I said, I wasn't going to fight, and there's no honor in winning a one sided battle." She appeared distraught as she looked down at the pointy end of his 'weapon'. He wanted to push her to the edge. He wanted to see that darkness he knew she was hiding beneath the layers of poise and properness that she carried herself with. He wanted to know who was that vicious person he found skulking around the Pohuai Stronghold. He had to know what she was hiding - all of her vile secrets.

"Ever since you arrived on my ship you have been nothing but a pest! You are irritating! You distract my Uncle and I can't stand you." He took a deep breath. "What do you want?" He demanded inching the stick dramatically. She remained silent, only looking at him with horrified eyes. "What do you want? Why are you really here?" He shouted his voice getting rougher and louder with each sentence He tossed the broom stick to the side and his hands pried themselves to her upper arms as he held her in place. "Why are you-"

This. It was just like that other night. She knew that Zuko had many inner and outer demons to fight, but would he actually hurt her? She wanted to slap herself for letting out a vulnerable whimper as his voice became more stern. He saw her eyes become large as they welled with tears. "Why are you-" His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. The strong grip on her arms became more gentle.

Zuko hated this part of himself. The instinctual one that reminded him of his father. The one that made his blood go and his temper fly in an uncontrollable rage which had been feed by years of mental and physical abuse. For a split second he saw himself in her eyes. And then it happened- He saw the shift in her poise as her eyes darkened with ill intent. Her hand jolted forward fisting the neckline of his armor just like she had done that fateful night of the Blue Spirit. She pulled him close, so close to her that she could see drops of honey being reflected in her eyes.

"Listen," she managed to utter in a menacing tone. He silenced her threat by kissing her.

Tsai felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on her. Her grip on his armor weakened, she attempted to inch back but was caught between the railing and his body. His kiss was soft, gentle, almost shy. She had not expected it to be like this. She wasn't expecting to feel a full body chill and a fire stir in the core of her stomach. It took her a full moment to react and with a hand flat against his chest she pushed him back, keeping him at arms length. Her eyes wide, her expression unreadable.

He turned away before she could speak. What had he done? What had she done?

"Zuko!" She reached for his arm and held it. "Wait!" She held him back. He pulled his arm back and glared at her. His eyes filled with hurt and rejection. For a moment she had forgotten all about the anger, about the fight, about their agni kai and honor. The wanted poster and her plan to run away.

"I'm....confused," she admitted.

His expression remained stoic, lips drawn into a thin line as he remained silent. "You always remind me how you want me off your ship. You repeatedly address me as a pest. I thought you hated me- and now you- you kiss me?"

"Why don't you make your rejection less painful and just tell me it's never going to happen?" He snapped.

He was presently beating himself up for what he had just done. Unsure of his uncontrollable emotions. He regretted it so much. There was no way that a girl like Tsai would ever be interested in somebody like him. Specially somebody as hideous and temperamental. A banished prince with an obvious facial deformity. A beast. It was impossible.

"It.. It's not that," she admitted shyly. Her face glowing with a tint of a red blush.

He could not believe it. He felt her hand reach for his and hold it. He marveled at how perfectly it fit against it. Her fingers tucked in between his. He held it tightly, proudly. Not knowing when he would miss the absence of her heat.

"I've seen good in you Zuko. I've seen compassion, I've seen empathy," she stepped closer. "I know there's goodness in you and it's not only because of your many redeemable qualities," she spoke tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She gave a step closer to him.

"But you are also troubled, you're obsessive, and very rude towards your loving uncle, towards me, and let's not forget my family, which is something I cannot forgive." She leaned in close and he flinched slightly when she gently placed her hand on his cheek, leaned in and kissed his scarred face lightly. He felt as if he had been brushed with a rose's petal.

"What you're saying is, you can't be with me until I've regained my honor." he gave a step back.

"No," she sighed feeling a growing frustration. This is exactly what she was talking about. It was always about honor and the Avatar and redemption with him.

"I can't be with you until you are a changed man," a light breeze blew by and she let go of his hand. He clenched it empty, being more than aware of the coldness of it. "You need to fight your inner demons and- that's only something you can do. I will only get in the way."

"Goodnight Prince Zuko," she whispered before leaving.

xxx

AN: D-D-Damnnnnnn Finally we are getting some fiyahhhhhh burning up in here! I just wanted to say that I do not support abusive relationships and let's be real Zuko is a total prick in Book 1. Also I wouldn't let Tsai be with him with (not with that attitude at least (and don't even get me started on that haircut (the ponytail? Really?))) all the growth and development he still has to go. This idea seemed a little unrealistic to me. Both still have a long way to go!

Thoughts? I'd love to hear what you think!

xxxx

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