#I Guess mox is?? fine maybe

[oplishin]

In 2022, seth weaponized his history with Roman against him, and it uh. Didn’t go so hot for him, it ended with Roman murdering him with a steel chair.

In 2024, seth does the same trick again, and Roman’s ready for it! Hits him before he can even really get in the ring. But Seth’s learned in ways Roman hasn’t. He knows now that if Roman has the chance to get him back, to hurt him, he can’t resist (i am thinking about how Roman went back to hit Seth in 2022, even after everything was over). And Seth uses his own self destruction to help Cody.

It’s a fabulous character arc/moment: jn 2022 he selfishly tries to manipulate Roman, in 2024 he unselfishly uses the same strategy because he knows Roman hurting him will save Cody.

Big fan of incredible lack of self preservation and willingness to do himself harm here!!! And the fact that Seth very very literally recreated his initial betrayal as an act of penance. There’s no way he brought that steel chair to the ring thinking he was going to be able to use it.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 7 - Ozzie's

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

It's a date! (But is it really?)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 5,212

Warnings: you ask blitz to not be a dick and what does he do? yeah he's a bit of a dick. a big reveal abt reader's past (will be explored more in depth later), terrible just awful communication skills.

Alright, however much blood you got on yourself, business today was kind of pretty fucking awesome. 

The four of you walk through the portal, all still riding high on the adrenaline rush the day’s kills provided you. Blitzø’s the first to set foot back into the office, throwing his head back and brandishing his new axe around. “Woo! That was a fuckton of lumberjacks!” 

There were eleven of them, to be exact.

Moxxie walks in right after him, looking a little too excited as he held up a chainsaw, still on and rumbling.

Millie’s next, covered in more blood than anyone else, as usual- clearly in a great mood, going as far as biting the wood handle of the axe she was holding in half.  “Ahh! I’m still so jazzed up!” 

You walk in last, examining the huge new knife you got for yourself, pleased. Nothing like putting down five huge-ass dudes on your own and getting a cool new knife for your collection to get you in a good mood. 

Moxxie discards the chainsaw into the portal, and Loona closes it off. “Well, you better stay jazzed up, babe,” he tells Millie, shooting finger guns at her. “‘Cause guess where I’m taking you tonight?”

“Don’t you dare finish a filthy pun in my presence, Moxxie! Besides, drinks are on me tonight! Let’s hit up the new drive down the street,” Blitzø suggests, excited.

Moxxie looks down to the floor, then back at him. “Actually, sir, it’s our one year marriage anniversary, so I’m taking Millie to Ozzie’s, all the way down in the Lust Ring!” He announces, proud of himself. 

Millie’s eyes immediately light up, and she gasps in excitement at the revelation. “Ozzie’s? No way! That place is always booked.”

Yeah, you should know that. In fact, you already knew Moxxie was taking her there, too- he’d approached you the previous week, asking if you could do him a ‘big favor’. You didn’t know what to expect of this supposed big favor, but when he asked if you could maybe call Ozzie personally and arrange him and Millie a reservation for their anniversary, you let out a laugh.

“Oh, that’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Of course I can, Mox, are you kidding?”

“That’s awesome!” He’d hugged you tight. “Thank you so, so much, y/n!”

You smile, pleased with Millie’s reaction. You knew she’d love it. Moxxie had mentioned he’d tell her you’d helped, but you’d told him not to, leaving all the credit for him. He deserved it. 

He sends you a thankful glance when Millie squeaks out his name and quite literally jumps on him, kissing him all over. The scene is so sweet it’s almost gross. 

“Ugh, can you two not?” Blitzø complains.

Moxxie’s out of breath when he pulls away, looking a little high-headed after the distraction. “I’m sorry, sir. Maybe another time!” 

“Oh, it’s fine! I- I can come with the two of  you, help you celebrate your boring-as-fuck-monogamy.”

There’s no way he just seriously suggested that. “What? Dude. No.”

Moxxie matches your tone. “Yeah. No.The reservation is for us.”

“Uh-huh,” Blitzø agrees, nodding, as if that changes absolutely nothing to him. Did he genuinely not get the hint or is he playing dumb at this point?

“Just. Us. Millie and I.”

“Uh-huh,” he repeats, still nodding as if he doesn’t see the issue. 

“Without you there. Explicitly without you there.”

He completely disregards Moxxie’s words. “I’ll wear something nice. It’s a big deal after all.” Ah, got it. Playing dumb.

Moxxie’s left eye twitches at his attitude, but, in turn, he just turns around, walking towards the door. “You want a ride or not?” He turns back around to ask you, and you try to shoot Moxxie a reassuring look that’s meant to say you’ll get some sense through his skull before you follow him out. “See you lovebugs later!”

You start scolding him as soon as you get to the parking lot. “Could you be any more inconvenient?”

“The fuck do you mean?” 

“The fuck do I mean? They don’t want you there, Blitz. It’s their anniversary. Whatever fantasies you have about them don’t make you a part of their relationship, you realize that, don’t you?” The two of you get to the van, and he unlocks the doors so you can get in before he says anything in return.

“Fuck you, I made that couple happen, bitch. I deserve to be part of this ‘anniversary dinner’. And you do too, I know there ain’t no way Moxxie got that reservation without your help.”

“Yeah and that one-hundred percent does not give me any right to crash their date. Don’t you fucking go to Ozzie’s tonight. You hear me?”

“Ohh keep talking dirty.”

“I’m so serious right now.”

Blitzø scoffs at your threatening tone. “Don’t remember you being the boss of me.”

“I am telling you, as a friend, that you’re being inconvenient. They’ll get pissed at you and they’ll be right to.”

“Yeah well I don’t fucking care.”

“Come on Blitz, just give them a break. I’ll even go with you to that place you wanted to go!” You try. 

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. And very far from Millie and Mox so they can enjoy their night out alone,” you make sure to point out.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Blitzø drops you off at your apartment so you can get ready with a yell of ‘be quick we don’t have all night!’ as he drives off, going home himself to shower and change too before he’s back to pick you up. 

“If I didn’t know you I’d think you’re dressing to impress me here,” he raises an eyebrow suggestively as he gives you a very exaggerated once-over.

“Yeah in your dreams maybe,” you retort immediately, used to his comments by now, as you get into the passenger seat.

“Oh my dreams about you don’t involve any clothes what-so-ever.”

“Gross.”

He shrugs. “Ready?”

“Sure. What’s the place called again?”

“Uuuuhh, don’t worry about it. We’re going somewhere new.”

You notice he’s extra chatty during the ride, talking your ear off and turning up the radio so the two of you can sing the songs out. You realize why he was going out of his way to distract you when suddenly you take a look out the window and recognize the neighborhood. 

He’s taken you to the Lust Ring, and it’s not very hard to imagine why when he parks just a couple blocks from Ozzie’s. You feel disappointed, and honestly a little naive, to have thought he’d take you to a fun night out instead of just doing whatever he wanted to do. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? This is the one place I said, repeatedly, that we couldn’t go!”

“Oh, boo-hoo, so I’m taking you out on a nice fucking fancy-ass dinner, what a terrible fucking thing to do!”

“Except you’re not taking me out, you just don’t know your fucking boundaries and you wanna spend your sorry-ass night spying on Millie and Moxxie.”

“Eh. Potato, potato.”

“You pronounced it the exact same.”

He shrugs. 

“We’re leaving.”

“What? No!”

“Well I am. And you don’t have a reservation,” you point out, trying to make it clear he’s not getting in. Did he only bring you out with him in the hopes you’d manage to get him a table by pulling some strings? “And you can’t get in without a date so sucks to be you.”

“Well I’m not taking you anywhere,” he crosses his arms over his chest, matter-of-factly.

“‘Course you’re fucking not. We were supposed to just have some fun tonight. I can’t believe this. You’re a fucking prick, you know that, right?” You let your frustration spill out in your words, and you pull your phone out to see if you can find a ride on Reaper, not in the mood to be out anymore and desperately wanting to get back home at this point.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re a whiny bitch but I don’t keep telling you that, do I?”

You send him a dirty look, sitting on the curb as you wait for the app to find you a car, and he fucks off to the alleyway behind you to do Satan-knows-what. After a while, still down on your luck with the ride, you’re startled when a portal is opened only a couple feet in front of you, and it takes you a couple seconds to register the fact that it’s Stolas who walks out of it. 

“Stolas?”

“Stolaaass!” Blitzø calls out, as if already expecting him. Was he already expecting him? Is this what you thought it was- you telling him you wouldn’t get into Ozzie’s with him and him just calling Stolas up, simple as ever, to fulfill that role instead?

“What are you doing here?” You ask the prince, not really meaning to sound rude, but it comes out demanding of an answer regardless, and he tilts his head to the side, as if confused by the fact that you apparently didn’t know he’d be coming.

“Wow. Outfit’s a little overkill, don’t ya think?” Blitzø tells him, and you resist the urge to pettily flick at his forehead at the lack of common sense. Why the fuck would you say that?

Stolas looks down to the floor, embarrassed. “Did you… not know I was coming, y/n?”

“No. Did Blitzø call you here?”

“Yes, I- I assumed-” He looks at Blitzø, now referring to the comment about his outfit as well. “I wanted to look nicer for you. This is our first real date, after all… right?” he explains himself, motioning between the three of you.

“A date?” You whip your head around to look at Blitzø. That’s what he told Stolas this was?

“Surprise! We’re having a date!”

“Blitz I swear to Satan, this is so out of pocket-”

“Is something not right, y/n?” Stolas asks, and it completely disarms you. He seems so genuinely excited about this ‘date’that you can’t get yourself to ruin it for him by revealing what only you knew- that what he thought was a date was just a selfish ploy for Blitzø to spy on Millie and Moxxie for whatever fucking reason he had.

And so you find yourself reassuring him. “No. Not at all.”

“Ya still wanna leave now?” Blitzø whispers, all cocky and annoying and- fuck, he can just be so stubborn it’s insufferable sometimes.You grit your teeth but say nothing in return, and the three of you walk up to the stairs by the entrance. 

You don’t recognize the incubus who greets you. Must be new. He eyes the three of you up and down, as if trying to gather how the fuck this whole thing happened. “Y’all three together?” He asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Stolas tells him. 

“Alrightt, that’s fucking hot! Y’all got a reservation?”

Before you can even think of telling him to talk to Ozzie, Stolas speaks up again. “Do we need one?” He asks, glaring at the man, as if challenging him to say no. The man gulps before opening a smile and bowing at him. “No! Uh, shit, my apologies, Your Highness. Right this way.”

You feel the ever-growing urge to facepalm as hard as you possibly can the very second you enter the lounge, because Blitzø immediately starts sneaking around the place like he’s a character in some low-budget spy movie. 

Stolas looks around the place, mesmerized. “Oh, my! Oh, no! No, but also yes!” He’s been there countless times (you should know), but only then do you realize he’s never stayed or even visited for matters that weren’t aligned with his royal duties. He’s stupid rich and he’s never dined at Ozzie’s?

Oh.

He’s only ever been with that wife of his before you and Blitzø happened. And his own marriage was merely another one of his royal duties. And- oh, fuck. Was this his first ever date? Shit.

You pull Blitzø down to whisper to him as you walk to your table. “Blitz, you’re gonna be fucking nice tonight, alright?”

“Hey I’m always a fucking delight!”

“I’m serious. I think he’s never been on a date before.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Look he’s clearly excited to be here, please don’t be a dick, okay?”

“You calling me that for free?”

“The outfit comment was not cool.”

“Oh you guys are so fucking sensitive.” He dismisses your words, sitting down on the chair that had been arranged for him, a couple books placed on the seat so his height could be aligned properly with the round table’s.

Stolas is beaming as soon as the three of you sit down. “Oh, how romantic is this? I have never stayed here longer than I needed to. It’s so charming!”

“Yeah, it sounded like- I just thought we’d have a blast here,” Blitzø tells him, barely present in the conversation as he pulls out his goddamn fucking binoculars out of his pocket, surely trying to find out where Millie and Moxxie were seated. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s lovely, right? And it’s where I met both of you! Isn’t that so nice, Blitz?” You kick him under the table, and he shoots you a dirty glare before turning back around. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real romantic- oh gotcha!”

Stolas tilts his head to the side, trying to figure out what is happening. “Uh, Blitz, what are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at nothing. How about that?” So much for not being a dick. Luckily, a server approaches the table just then, averting Stolas’ attention from Blitzø. 

“So, can I get you three off?” She takes a long pause before ‘correcting’ herself. “I mean, start you three off with some drinks?” It actually was normal taught practice for the ‘slip-ups’ to happen- you should know, you trained countless servers during your time there. It still makes Stolas blush out of embarrassment, caught off-guard by it.

“Yes! Um, perhaps some… wine, to share?” He glances at you, and you smile at him, nodding in agreement. “Blitz?” 

“What?”

“Would you like some wine, too?”

“Yeah why not?”

“Do you prefer red or white? Or perhaps some champagne?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blitzø replies dryly, very clearly barely paying any attention to what was said to him as he didn’t even bother turning around to face the two of you.

“Uh- I- uh-”

“What if we-” you begin, trying to help Stolas not freak out.

“Perhaps we should order all three! Ha! Why not?” He suggests, and it sort of sounds like he is sort of freaking out, but you don’t argue. 

“Yeah that sounds good.”

“So! How was the day at I.M.P.?” Stolas tries. 

“Oh? Uh, it was good, I guess. We killed a bunch of weirdos. She can tell you about it,” Blitzø tells him, this time sparing one single glance back and pointing vaguely at you. How thoughtful.

“Oh?”

“Uh, business was pretty good today. What he meant with killing a bunch of weirdos is that we had more targets than usual, which is good. But I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about us killing people, right?”

“No! It sounds like fun!” It definitely didn’t look like he thought so, but rather that he was desperately trying to build a connection. One that Blitzø currently didn’t seem to give a flying fuck about. “Uh, how did you kill them?”

The question at least seemed to pique Blitzø’s interest, as he actually turns around and puts down the binoculars to answer it. “How? I mean, there was a lot of ‘em, so… bullets?”

“Right! Right. So… what made you decide to plan a date after all this time?”

Shit. “Uuuuuuhhh…” Blitzø scratches the back of his head, trying to think of what to say. Fuck, don’t be a dick, don’t be a dick, don’t-

Thankfully, for all of you, you’re sure, he doesn’t get to finish whatever he was about to try and say, as the lights dim and Fizzarolli’s voice sounds through the lounge. “Ladies and gentlemen! I see some sexy faces around here tonight.” He descends down the pole right in the middle of the stage, and you notice his greeting routine sounds different. It’s a weird feeling to see so much change since you left. “Welcome, welcome to Ozzie’s, Lust Ring’s number one place for all kinds of sick, twisted fantasies, put on display for all you sleaze and sleazettes, the gem joint of Asmodeus himself. Come on, give him some love!”

“Did he just say Asmodeus?” Stolas questions out loud.

“He likes to make an appearance sometimes,” you explain, but, internally, it made you nervous. You did not need Ozzie to see you on a date tonight.

Stolas nods, and Blitzø lets out a groan. “Oh, no fucking way. Not him!” He hides his face behind the menu that had been placed in front of him, and he’s still never told you what happened between him and Fizz, but that has to be a bit dramatic, doesn't it? 

“I am the one and only Fizzarolli.” The clown continues, pulling up a Loo Loo Land flyer with his robotic version, ‘Robo Fizz’, on it. “Some of you might recognize this dashing clown face from my numerous replicas across the rings of Hell, gloriously designed by the big man himself, and uh,” he traces his hand up his own robotic arm in a rather suggestive way, “ribbed for your pleasure tonight. We have a great lineup for you tonight: Verosika Mayday, Wet Dream, and The Squirters!” 

The lights shine on them, and suddenly you understand Blitzø’s need to hide. “Shit, she’s here?”

“Do you know her?” Stolas asks you, and you don’t reply.

“But as everyone’s warming up, I got a funny one for y’all!” Fizz keeps on. “Did any of you hear about the batshittery that happened at Loo Loo Land?” He laughs. “Oh yeah, I’ll tell you what, I’d sure love to shake the hand of the crazy son of a bitch who decided to burn down that off-brand shithole, and then slap a fat subpoena in it, ‘cause I’m very much looking to sue. That robo-me made us more money entertaining those kids than the ones we sell to get you freaks off, if you know what I mean.”

Someone in the lounge stands up from their seat, waving their hand around. “I know! I know what you mean! I have four of ‘em!” They announce, loud and proud, and you realize their date is one of those. It’s freaky enough for you to know security’s sure to keep an eye on them for the rest of the night to make sure they stay far away from Fizzarolli.

“So! Without wasting more time! Our little opening act is a fresh one, coming at us from a little imp from the Wrath Ring. Give it up for… Moxxie! With no creative stage name whatsoever.”

Moxxie stands up, taking his guitar with him, and kisses Millie before taking Fizzarolli’s place on the stage. That he hadn’t told you about, and knowing it was probably because he wanted to keep that moment to themselves makes you feel shitty about being there. He taps the mic before speaking. “Hello, everyone. Um. Hi. Thank you for letting me be here. It’s an honor to play.” Someone yells at him to hurry up, and he looks a bit nervous at it before he keeps on. “This song is for my beautiful wife, a surprise for our first anniversary. I love you, Millie.”

I love you More than the brimstone loves the fire, more than beelze loves her bub, more than a maggot loves gangrenous stubs You make my spirit sing Yeah, you make me glad I live in Hell Our love is a story sweet to tell Yeah, you cast a special Satanic spell over my heart Love is a journey we decided to start Yeah, I hope we’ll never, ever be apart I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I-

Shit, Moxxie. If he had told you about this, you would have warned him Ozzie’s was not the right place to perform a love song. But he didn’t, and so… “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,”, Ozzie and Fizz sang along, making their way onto the stage, very clearly mocking and laughing at him. 

Who’s singing love songs in my lustful lounge?

So Ozzie was performing tonight, huh? Must be in a good mood. 

Ozzie’s ain’t the place for sentimental sounds!

What’d you expect from a proprietor like us?

Your demon host, Asmodeus, the embodiment of lust…

Give me a thrust! Show me some lust! From the groin to the bust, in desire we trust, in the House of Asmodeus

Trumpet! Gah!

Little imp, you came here to sing your serenade Perform your feelings in the velvety stage Well, we got a saying that’s popular in these parts

‘Only little bitches strum the strings of their hearts’

You wanna hang around this lustful town? Ditch the lovey-dovey before we knock you around

How hypocritical.

In here we sing about wants and desires

Depravity, savagery, loins hotter than fire!

So give me a thrust Show me some lust From the groin to the bust Little imp, you just must In the House of Asmodeus Come on, sing us a song! Make sure the subject is getting it on Make it graphic and tactfully long

Make sure to rhyme ‘thong’ and ‘schlong’!

Go ahead, the mic’s on!

After a good while of tossing Moxxie around as Ozzie and Fizz sang, they set the mic in front of him once again. He takes a deep breath before strumming his guitar and giving it a try.

I want to 

Yeah, what do you want? Butt stuff? Piss play? Bondage?

Make gentle love to you

Oh, Moxxie. 

Ugh, what a limp-dick imp, you’re really killing the vibe Get a load of this dweeb and his unsatisfied bride!

Blitzø stands up from his seat. Why the fuck is he standing up from his seat? 

“Hey now, I’ve watched those two pork many times, and, honestly, they make missionary look relatively exciting!” 

You should have known he’d feel the need to try and defend them in some way, but this was really, really not a good idea. If you didn’t want any of your friends to see you there up until then, now he’d managed to basically call out for their attention. 

“What? Blitz!” Moxxie yells out, as if he can’t believe he’s actually there. His eyes find you too, and he furrows his eyebrows together. You feel ashamed that you ended up there, and even more so that his moment was getting ruined in so many ways.

Fizzarolli opens a grin. “Is that Blitzo? So you’re showing your face?”

Hey, everybody!  This guy’s a total disgrace Some nerve you got to comment on a relationship Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit!

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Verosika stands up, the lights immediately panning to her, and she joins in. 

Oh, Blitzo? I used to date him 

“Oh, Verosika, you’re here.”

I’d stroke him, I’d fellate him But when it was my turn He did no reciprocating  A selfish imp in the sheets  And just as bad on the streets A reckless, heart-breaking freak

You silently pray to Lucifer for her to not see you, or just not mention you, or-

“Oh am I interrupting your date, y/n?” She spits out. 

I should have known it I should have guessed you’re not above it  How long left till they’re abandoned? Do they know they’re not your standard?  The prince would better watch out Just get too close and he’s out Give it some time, she’ll flake out

You look down at your hands over your lap and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Stolas looks between you and Blitzø, trying to assimilate what just happened. “Did the both of you date her?”

Who’s that at your table? Is your date a demon prince? Stolas, is that you?

Are you sleeping with an imp?

My dark lord, how the mighty do fall! You used to have a smoking wife, a kid, you had it all! I hope you didn’t give it up so they could help you get it up…

Stolas hides his face behind the menu, not unlike Blitzø had done earlier, like he’s… embarrassed to be called out for being on a date with the two of you. It feels like a gut punch, to come down to the realization that, yeah, of course he’s embarrassed, he’s a prince, for Lucifer’s sake. 

Your eyes feel like they’re burning, and you have to hold back tears from streaming down your face. 

You sold your life for a thrust! Now that’s the spirit of Lust Grab your groin or a bust You better get your hair mussed Pretend you don’t see that crust Hump ‘till your junk turns to dust In the House of Asmode-

You stand up in preoccupation for Millie when she simply knocks Fizzarolli down to the ground. 

“Hey!” Ozzie exclaims, helping Fizz get up. You see the rage in his eyes- Millie was crazy to have done that- and he looks back at you. The worry in your expression and the furious shaking of your head, wordlessly asking him not to do anything, are accepted, and Millie is left unharmed purely for the sake of you. 

“I think you were tryin’ to sing somethin’ for me, Mox.”

“Yeah, I was.”

I love us I love us just the way we are Don’t have to pretend to like to do things we don’t I’ve always got you around to laugh at my stupid jokes I’ll never take you for granted I’ll always give you my best If you can offer the same thing we’ll handle the rest ‘Cause I love you ‘Cause I love you

Blitzø looks undoubtedly hurt and undeniably uncomfortable and, shit, it was very much warranted. You felt the exact same, ashamed of getting called out by Verosika, hurt by having Ozzie of all people put you all on blast, feeling stupid for feeling hurt by Stolas so very clearly looking embarrassed to be seen on a date with you. 

Stolas looks worried, but doesn’t get to form any words before Blitzø speaks up. “You know what, this was a mistake, alright? Let’s just- let’s just leave.”

For the first time the entire night, you agree with him. “Yeah. We should go.”

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Stolas agrees, and the three of you get up, making your way to the exit. You didn’t even get to try the fucking wine. 

You glance back at Ozzie on your way out, and he raises his eyebrows in concern when his eyes meet yours. You know that face. He only just realized he hurt you with what he did, and you know he’ll let you be for the rest of the night, but you’re sure to expect him to show up at your place tomorrow to apologize. 

You also take a glance at Millie and Moxxie, still on the stage, and mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ to them before exiting the place. 

The drive to Stolas’ place is quiet and uncomfortable and it makes holding yourself back from crying much, much harder. You’re not even sure why Stolas is getting a ride, as he’d portaled himself to Ozzie’s and could very much just portal himself back home, but it’s not like you’re gonna bring that up. 

Much too tall for the I.M.P. van, he’s crammed in the backseat, and struggles a little before managing to get himself out of the car. 

Before leaving, he leans on the passenger’s window, facing you and Blitzø and nervously trying to get himself to say something. “Thank you, for… inviting me out tonight.” Blitzø turns away to face his other side and you keep your eyes glued to the windshield, both unable to look him in the eye. “Despite everything that’s happened, I… I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Yeah,” is all Blitzø says, and you simply nod.

“You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia’s with her mother this weekend, so we could…”

“I’m not fucking you tonight, okay? I’m really just… I’m really not in the mood, alright?” He nudges you with his elbow, and you swear you see him wipe down a tear. “If you wanna take this one go ahead.”

“I-”

“We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle?”

For the first time since leaving Ozzie’s, you manage to properly look at Stolas. Was he serious? Would he genuinely be okay with that after what just happened? Could he genuinely be okay to be in your presence without sex involved? 

“Stolas, don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting us to fuck you, okay?” 

“Blitz-“

“No. You too. Are you actually falling for the shit he says? Fucking watch a movie and cuddle? You know exactly what he wants from us. He just says what he thinks he has to to get in our pants. I thought you weren’t that stupid.” 

You scoff at his words and get out of his car silently, as you can’t believe he just said that to you.

“What, you’re not coming?” 

Tears are threatening to roll down your face again, and it makes you angry. “Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?”

“Fine. Stay with him then. Congrats to the fucking happy couple!” 

With that lovely yell, he takes off. 

“Are you alright, dearest? You can come in if you-“ Stolas reaches for you, but you can’t help but back off, not allowing him to touch you. He lets his hand fall back to his side. 

“Could you just send me back to Ozzie’s? Looks like I don’t have a ride anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to be there? What he did was-“

“I- I’ll talk to him. They won’t poke fun at you because of us again, Your Highness. No need to worry.”

He grimaces at your words, and you’re fully aware why.  You haven’t called him that in a long time. In fact, you realize you did it to be cruel. To hurt him. 

To hurt yourself into remembering your place in relation to him. You almost want him to argue with you. To understand what you meant and tell you he doesn’t look down on you, that he doesn’t feel ashamed. 

And yet he only accepts what you say with a nod.  “Good night, y/n.” 

Maybe Blitzø isn’t wrong.

You nod once instead of saying it back- you don't trust your voice to come out.

He seems to want to say something else but refrains from doing so, only waving his hand to cast the spell you requested him to. In a mere second you materialize back at Ozzie’s, but not in the lounge, thankfully- in the waiting room in front of his office. 

You break down crying the very moment you gain bearing of your surroundings. 

A/N sorry for the shitty lyrics i added to house of asmodeus it was sadly necessary lmaoooo

[aerodaltonimperial]

Maybe darby and jack getting stuck in an elevator game type situation?

"Let's play another game."

"I'm not playing fucking 'I Spy' again, the last time you made me guess through every fucking button on the—"

"I said another game, Jack. No wonder you sucked so bad at that one."

"... ugh, fine. Whatever. What game."

"Twenty questions. Someone in the company. You can pick first."

"Ugh. Alright."

"Man, woman, or neither?"

"Man."

"Tony Khan."

".... what the fuck?"

"You're so predictable, Jack. My turn. I'm ready."

"I'm gonna fucking murder you when the fire crew gets those damn doors open, you know that, right?"

"I'm gonna count that as your first question. And yes."

"Darby."

"Nineteen left."

"Oh my god. Man, woman, or other?"

"Man. Eighteen left."

"Fuck. Uh... does this person have executive rights in the company?"

"No. Seventeen."

"Jesus. Uh... okay, is this person currently in a stable?"

".... hm. No. Gonna go with no. Sixteen."

"What does that mean, how do you not know?"

"That's another question, by the way. Fifteen left."

"Fuck off, Darby, c'mon."

"Fifteen left. Better make 'em good."

"You counted the last one and didn't answer, you fucking cheat."

"I don't know, because things are unclear. That's the answer."

"That’s... ugh. Does the person actively wrestle?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Is... is this person over the age of 30?"

"No. Thirteen left."

"Do you like this person?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so not Nick. Helpful. Uh... did this person just win the tag belts?"

"No. Eleven left. And you're a dumbass, that means they're in a stable."

"A tag team isn't a stable!"

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it isn't! A tag team is two people, a stable is more than two."

"That’s... no. That's not correct."

"Yes, it is. Those are two distinctly separate things. You can be in both, but they're different."

"You're fucking full of shit—"

"Darby, the Bucks were a tag team. And they were also in the Elite. Two different things."

"...fuck. Fine. I'll give you that. No, did not just win the tag belts."

"Jackass. Uh... okay. Do... do they actually get booked on Dynamite?"

"Ouch. Yes. Ten left."

"Is... Moxley currently trying to kill them?"

"... no. Nine left."

"C'mon, there aren't even that many people who fit this description. You like them? That's like two people max. Are you talking about Sting, because he doesn't count anymore."

"No, I'm not. Eight left."

"Darby!"

"You suck at this game, Jack. Keep going or give up. And if you give up, by the way, I'm not gonna tell you who it was."

"Fuck you. Not a question, don't even think about it. Fine. Uh... shit. No one qualifies here. Does... uh, does this person hold a belt?"

"... yes. Seven left."

"But... there's no one who matches this! You said they didn't just win the tag belts, so... I mean, is it Pac? But he's sort of in the Deathriders, so—"

"It's not Pac. I hate Pac. Six left."

"What the fuck. I don't... there's no other belts. Takeshita is clearly in a stable, and so is Mox, and so the only other..."

"... I don't hear a question."

"Did... did you pick me?"

"Yes. And look at that: you still had five questions left."

"No, you... you said you like the person. You said that."

"I didn't lie."

"What? Darby, we tried to murder each other! You can't just—"

"I didn't fucking lie, Jack. You were the one who put the emphasis on the word."

"The emphasis on... on what word, the word like?"

"Seems like what I'm talking about, doesn't it?"

"As in... hold on, as in you like me like me?"

"Hm."

"... Darby."

"Hey. Fire crew is here, I can hear them on the other side."

"No. No, you can't... you have to explain this."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! You can't just drop that bomb and fucking run, that's not... Darby, what the fuck?"

"What? Yeah, we're stuck in here. The doors half open should be fine, we can slip out."

"No, no, no, listen; stop. We need five more minutes!"

"Why are you telling them to stop, it's been over an hour."

"Five minutes! Darby. What the fuck?"

"I think you're out of questions now, Jack."

"All I have are questions now. Holy shit. When were you—?"

"When was I, what, gonna tell you? Ideally never, but guess I'm an idiot when trapped in elevators."

"... what do you mean never, why would—"

"Yeah, just a little bit wider would be perfect. We can shimmy right out."

"We cannot shimmy out. Darby! You are not running after this."

"Oh, I'm very fast; watch me."

"Fuck off, no. No. I'm not letting you just walk away from this like you didn't detonate everything. Fuck you. We are going to talk about this."

"I can't think of anything I want to do less than get yelled at by—"

"We are going to talk about this without clothes on. Pretend you guys didn't just hear that, thanks."

"... Jack."

"Get your dumbass shimmied out those doors before I tear that fucking pink coat off of you, so help me."

"Oh, I'll help you, alright."

"Go!"

"You're so bossy. It's fucking hot as shit."

"Darby!"

"Going, going, jeez."

[wrestlingisfake]

Wrestledream preview

Bryan Danielson vs. Jon Moxley - On September 25, Moxley defeated Darby Allin to earn this shot at Danielson's AEW men's world championship. If he wins, it'll be his fourth reign as the undisputed titleholder. In singles matches, Danielson is 3-2 against the challenger, but he hasn't defeated Moxley since 2010.

In 2022, Danielson approached Moxley about joining forces to advance their vision of pro wrestling, and they co-founded the Blackpool Combat Club. The faction was apparently dissolved on September 7, when Moxley turned on Bryan and smothered him with a plastic bag. Only Wheeler Yuta sided with Bryan in the schism; the group aligned with Moxley has not yet made its agenda clear, except to say that Mox tried it Bryan's way, but "diplomacy has failed," and now he needs the world title to proceed.

Danielson has indicated that once he loses the title, he will retire, so in effect his career is on the line every time the championship is on the line. Obviously, he's been building up his impending retirement for a year, but this time it really feels like the end of the road. On-screen Danielson is presented as a match for the challenger, but off-screen he's claimed that he lost strength in his legs during his last title defense. Bryan is not above misleading fans about "real" life to keep them guessing about his storylines. But at this point I believe the stories about his neck problems, and that's not a good position for a world champion unless he's about to down in a blaze of glory.

Moxley is clearly coming to mercilessly destroy Danielson, so if this is truly "the final countdown" it won't be the fond farewell fans are accustomed to. Bryan won't go down without a vicious fight, and Mox won't hug him after it's over. That would be a major bummer in Tacoma, so close to Danielson's hometown of Aberdeen. Is AEW really ready to end the show on such a huge downer? They've convinced me they will.

Will Ospreay vs. Konosuke Takeshita vs. Ricochet - Ospreay is defending the AEW international title in a three-way match, so the first man to score a fall on either opponent will win the match and the title. Ospreay and Ricochet had a historic rivalry in the mid-2010s, so there was a lot of hype around their title bout on October 2, but Takeshita ran in to ruin it. Logically Takeshita should be fined/suspended for his actions, but this is pro wrestling so they just added him to the rematch for no good reason.

I am not at all a fan of three-way matches. This match is a lazy excuse for not booking Ospreay-Takeshita, Ospreay-Ricochet, and/or Takeshita-Ricochet, and nothing is going to be settled here until we get at least two of those aforementioned singles bouts. I don't have a problem with Takeshita winning the belt. But winning it here, probably by stealing a fall from Ospreay by pinning Ricochet, isn't how I want to see it happen. Unfortunately I think that's very likely to be what happens.

Mark Briscoe vs. Chris Jericho - Jericho scored a pin on Briscoe in a trios match on September 28, so now he gets a shot at the ROH men's world championship. Jericho is seeking his second run with this title. The last time he won it, he began calling himself "the ocho," in reference to it being his eighth world heavyweight singles title. Will he become "the nueve?" I don't think that sounds as good, but we'll see.

Jericho's faction has been feuding with Briscoe's Conglomeration for months. Things didn't get really personal, though, until Chris suggested Mark would never be the champion that his late brother Jay was. Mark smacked the shit out of him for that. Although, to be honest, I think Jay would have straight up murdered him for that, so I suppose that supports Jericho's point.

I don't see the point in putting this belt back on Jericho. We've done this already. On the other hand, Briscoe chasing Jericho to regain the title is maybe the biggest match they could do for the Final Battle pay-per-view in a couple of months. That still doesn't convince me they should do it, but they might. I'm pulling for Briscoe, but I wouldn't bet much money on him.

Mariah May vs. Willow Nightingale - Willow won a four-way on October 9 to earn this match for May's AEW women's world championship.

I like Willow but the booking doesn't make a ton of sense. May has quite correctly pointed out that in the past few months Nightingale lost the AEW TBS title, lost her big feud against Kris Statlander, and lost the CMLL women's title. Obviously the 10/9 victory was meant to rehab her after those losses, but it's not enough--it doesn't even make sense that she qualified to be in a match to determine the #1 contender. That's a problem when it's very likely Willow is just going to lose this match too, since Mariah is on a hot streak and needs to be kept strong for future intrigue with Toni Storm and/or Mina Shirakawa.

I fully expect May to retain, and I'm not sure how Willow can regain her momentum after this.

Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson vs. Isiah Kassidy & Marq Quen - The Young Bucks, Matt and Nick, are defending the AEW tag team championship against Private Party. Quen pinned Matt in a trios match on October 4, and Kassidy scored the win in a three-way match on the 5th to earn this title shot.

If that feels like a short build to a big title bout, it's because Private Party had only just finished getting their asses destroyed by Jon Moxley's heel stable for a few weeks. Moxley's big statement was that Quen and Kassidy have failed to achieve anything in the past five years, so he smashed Kassidy's hand with a hammer to give the team some adversity to overcome. In theory it would be a dramatic turnaround if Quen and Zay and regroup to win tag team gold. But I don't sense that's going to happen, so jobbing out to Moxley's crew and the Bucks is going to be hard to come back from.

I could see the Bucks deciding they want to end their run as champs by putting over a young team like Private Party. But a lot has been invested in building them up and cleaning out the division, so I can't believe it'll really end here. The obvious destination is a match against Kenny Omega & Kota Ibushi, and it's starting to feel like that might actually be possible sooner rather than later. So I think the Bucks will retain.

Jack Perry vs. Katsuyori Shibata - Shibata has challenged Perry for the AEW TNT championship. I like Shibata, but I think his role here is to give Jack a big win over an opponent he'd never beat on paper. Perry's got a good thing going as the little twerp who shouldn't be able to beat the babyfaces, but he always find a way anywhow. It seems like we're overdue for Adam Copeland to show up wanting to get his belt back, so maybe that'll happen after the match? Maybe not? Who knows.

Adam Page vs. Jay White - This is a rematch from July 6, when Page knocked White out of the Owen Hart tournament, thanks in part to a run-in by Christian Cage. White evidently sustained a real injury that has been worked into the story, so that he's pissed at Page and (I presume) Cage for putting him on the shelf for three months.

Page's storyline for the past year has been his pyrrhic campaign for revenge against Swerve Strickland, which has eaten away at his soul. The novel twist here is that Jay is a fucking sociopath who could not give two shits about Page's emotional trauma, and isn't afraid to respond in kind to Page's ruthless violence. It is absolutely wild to me that Page is the sympathetic heel here, and Jay is the unworthy babyface, but here we are.

I think Page has to beat Jay here, and beat him badly enough to end the feud. But as a longtime New Japan fan and veteran Jay White hater, I have learned all too painfully that you can't ever count him out. So this could go either way, I suppose.

Darby Allin vs. Brody King - Darby is pissed he lost his world title shot to Jon Moxley, so he issued an open challenge and his old nemesis King answered. In one-on-one competition, Brody leads the series 4-1-1. Darby has beaten him, but he's never pinned or submitted him.

Darby's promos have been all over the board lately. He was complaining about "all the complacent guys in the back" so much that he started to sound like he was auditioning for a spot in Mox's heel group. I saw in a recent interview that he said he wants to bring out more of Brody's real-life personality, because he thinks fans would find that scarier than his on-screen presentation. Man, if Darby thinks Brody King doesn't already scare the shit out of me, then that bus must have hit him harder than I thought. Anwyay, I'm rooting for Brody, but I guess Darby needs a hometown win.

Hologram vs. The Beast Mortos - This is scheduled for the best two out of three falls, so I guess they're trying to make this feel like a traditional lucha libre main event. Hologram, formerly known as Aramis, has been undefeated since he debuted with AEW in July. Mortos, formerly known as Black Taurus, has only one singles victory in AEW, which was yesteday, against, uh, the Butcher. So yeah, Mortos has mainly been a jobber to the stars, but I think the fans dig the man-bull gimmick and he seems to be kind of getting a push now that he and Jake Roberts are aligned with La Faccion Ingobernable. Even so, I figure Hologram will win again.

Max Caster & Anthony Bowens vs. Mason Madden & Mansoor - This is scheduled for the pre-show. The Acclaimed (Caster and Bowens) have been oddly hostile about MxM Collection (Mason and Mansoor) coming to AEW, and I assume it's because there's only room for one tag team that makes weird sex jokes and isn't afraid to seem kinda gay. Personally I like both teams so I wish they'd put aside their differences, but it's not All Elite Friendship. The Acclaimed really ought to win and get back to chasing the tag title, I'm not sure what happened to that.

Anna Jay vs. Harley Cameron - Another pre-show match. Anna seems to be getting a push since returning from STARDOM's 5 Star Grand Prix, and I'm all for that. Harley is a fun character, but I'm not sure she's ever won a match, so I think you can tell where this is going. Anna has to win.

Atlantis Jr. vs. Brian Cage - Still another pre-show match. Atlantis is defending the ROH men's television title, which he won back in June. He's also the CMLL world historic light heavyweight champion, but that's not at stake and I'm sure Cage wouldn't meet the weight limit anyway. To Atlantis's credit, he has come back to ROH now and then to defend the TV title, but his last defense was in August so I suspect this match exists to get the belt off him.

[banannabethchase]

After Mox is injured during the Hangman match, Wheeler has to use to use some of the powers he's hidden for years. He's not able to hide it from Mox, though, and the reaction is far from what he expected.

~

Me like 2 weeks ago: I hate writing noncanonical supernatural elements I suck at it and it's the worst I'll never do it again.

Me today: ?????!!!!?!?!???

Title from Sub-Radio's "King Of My Heart", which is so poppy and delightful it makes me happy dance. Prompt from @sarahcakes613 "Demon gf who makes people make a pact for every little thing." I - it technically works? The prompt ended up flipflopping a little weirdly, but I think I made it work.

Mini Playlist: King Of My Heart - Sub-Radio Like an Animal - The Donnas Motivate - Little Mix Animal - The Cab

~

Wheeler fidgets as he watches Mox in medical, getting checked out all over. He keeps asking, “What happened?” He looks panicked.

Wheeler thinks back to the ring, where he leaned in and did what he always said he never would.

“You can walk out of this ring,” Wheeler had said, using a muscle he hasn’t touched in years, stretching something he’d hoped to keep locked away.

“I can walk out of the ring,” Mox said, leaning on Wheeler. And he did. He walked out the ring.

But not because he really could.

Because Wheeler used his power on him.

~

They make it back to the hotel he’s sharing with Mox, and he’s able to stand now, for real. Without any outside force compelling him to do so. His eyes have cleared, his body more steady. It’s a sprain, somewhere in his knee, but it should heel soon, Doc had said.

“Babe, I’m fine,” Mox says, collapsing into bed with a smile. He looks cozy and calm in his sweatpants and hoodie, but it took a hell of a lot of help from Wheeler to get him showered and changed back in the arena. “I can, like, feel your stress. Come sit.”

Wheeler knows Mox can’t know what he’s done. No human would ever imagine this to be the reality of, well, everything, because demons are phenomenal at PR and, also, mindwipe powers. And verbal subconscious insistence, which is what Wheeler had done earlier that day.

Mox sits up, staring. “Did I say something when we were out there? Was I a dick?” He stares at Wheeler, concern in his eyes.

“I have to tell you something,” Wheeler says. He sits on the edge of Mox’s bed, but he can’t make himself meet Mox’s eyes.

“What’s up?” Wheeler can feel the way Mox’s eyes burn into the side of his face. “Hey, Wheels.” He puts a finger under Wheeler’s chin, turning his head so Wheeler has to look at him. It hurts. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He has to say it, doesn’t he. “I’m a demon.”

Mox’s face collapses into a laugh. “Oh. Cute. Seriously, what’s going on.”

“I told you!” Wheeler says. “I’m a demon. I’ve been manipulating all of you.” He steps away from Mox’s touch. “I’ve been lying.”

“Wait, hold up.” Mox waves off Wheeler’s words. He gets closer to Wheeler, leg stretched out behind Wheeler’s back. “Are you alright? Like, are you okay right now?”

“I would be,” Wheeler grumbles, “if you believed me.”

Mox studies his face in that way of his, eyes locked and loaded, parsing through every thought that’s ever passed through Wheeler’s mind. “What the hell are you talking about, kid?”

It takes over an hour to convince him. Mox keeps interrupting, of course, to check if Wheeler’s having some sort of mental break or something, and he’s not. He’s just trying really hard to tell the man he loves that he himself isn’t a man at all, and Mox is convinced he’s lost his mind.

“A demon, though?” Mox asks. “You? Really? Come on. I’d guess that of, like, Bryan, or maybe MJF. But you?” He cups Wheeler’s cheek in his hand. “You’re the sweetest on the whole roster.”

“Demons can be good! We just have to work at it,” Wheeler replies, and he realizes very quickly that folding his arms across his body and pouting probably isn’t making his point. “You know how you got out of that ring today?”

“With your help, and Paul’s.”

Wheeler shook his head. “What did I say to you, right before you stood up?”

Mox frowns, searching. “Um. You told me…you said I could walk out of the ring.”

“And did it feel like how I normally talk?” Wheeler asks. He hates doing this. He hates having to sit here and watch someone learn that he’s been a fraud his whole life. He’s only done this once before. It was a mistake.

Mox’s face practically clouds over, and Wheeler knows that look. Mox is getting it. “It wasn’t,” he mutters. “I – I’d fallen over before that.”

Wheeler nods. “Your leg wasn’t working.”

Mox stares at him, comprehending, finally. “You made me walk out of there.”

Wheeler nods. “I did.” He waits for the inevitable. He waits for the reaction he’s gotten in the past.

He doesn’t get it.

“Holy shit, can we try that in bed?” Mox asks, looking positively gleeful. “I love that.”

“You what?!”

“You, making me do whatever you want…” He spaces out, clearly watching some vision of Wheeler he’s never seen before. “Oh, I like that.”

“Mox!” Wheeler has to straight up snap at him to get his head back on straight. “What – you like that I’m a demon?”

“I like you,” Mox says, shrugging. “And if you’re a demon and you can, like, get into my head during sex or, fuck, even matches! That just turns this to eleven, baby. I’ve got so many ideas.”

Wheeler flops back onto the bed, careful to miss Mox’s knee. “All this time,” he grumbles, “and you’ve just got a demon kink.”

“I’ve got a you kink,” Mox clarifies. “The fact that you’ve got demon powers or whatever just sweetens the deal.”

Wheeler rolls himself off the bed and onto the floor, where he lays, silent, for at least a full rerun of CSI that Mox talks through.

~

“Hey,” Mox says, striding into the kitchen like he hadn’t just gotten his knee taken out by an angry cowboy the previous week, “I got an idea.”

Wheeler pauses. “An idea?”

“Yeah, don’t look so shocked.” He reaches for the fridge and pulls out the gallon of milk, drinking straight from the container. Wheeler rolls his eyes as Mox wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “We could, like, add your weird voice power to do stuff around the house. Make things more fun.”

“Is that the only way I’ll be able to convince you to stop using bleach on every surface?”

“Screw you, it’s a good cleaning method.”

“It smells bad.”

“It’s clean,” Mox argues, kissing Wheeler’s nose. “The goal is clean, not lemon scented.”

“We could do both – anyway, that’s not the point.” Wheeler turns back to him. The dishes from his breakfast can wait. “So your only reaction to me being a demon is to get horny and household about it?”

Mox considers, then nods. “Yeah. Knee’s ready for vigorous activity, if you want to try it out.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“Yeah, and you love it.”

“I do,” Wheeler relents, “but still. You don’t even know how my powers work. I could be convincing you to be with me this whole time. You might not like me at all.”

To Wheeler’s surprise, Mox laughs. “I can tell the difference from the way you talk normally and the way you spoke that other time. Come on, I can prove it.”

He considers it. Technically, he’s not doing anything wrong if Mox is asking for it, right?

“Fine,” Wheeler says. In his normal voice, he says, “Put the dishes in the dishwasher.”

“Nah.” Mox grins at him.

Wheeler rolls his shoulders, puts some power behind it. “Put the dishes in the dishwasher.”

Mox’s eyes glaze over a little, a dopey smile playing on his lips. “Sure, baby.” And he does it. Without an ounce of complaining, he does it. Wheeler’s not sure if he needs to stop or tell Mox to do something else. He may continue to put dishes in the dishwasher until there’s no more room.

Mox puts the last from the sink in the washer, puts in the soap, and closes the washer. Wheeler watches his face, and it’s like he can see a veil removed as Mox comes back to his sense. “Whoa.”

“I know,” Wheeler says, wincing. “I’m sorry. It takes all your autonomy away.”

“No the fuck it doesn’t,” Mox says, looking positively giddy. “I knew what I was doing. I just…I wanted to do it.” He licks his lips, moving into Wheeler’s space. “I wanted to do what you wanted me to do.”

Wheeler huffs as Mox goes for his neck. “I should have known you’d be into this.”

“You shoulda,” Mox confirms. “Big ol’ monster fucker, me.”

“I am not,” Wheeler says, and he tries to put in a lot of force behind it, “a monster!”

Mox pulls away, grinning. “Aw, no?”

“Monsters have a much harder time pretending to be human for years and fooling everybody around them,” Wheeler argues. “Demons are much better at disguising themselves to live among the mortal.”

Mox leans in, so goddamned close. “Love when you talk demon to me.”

“You are the weirdest person I’ve ever met,” Wheeler says, and he slides his hand up Mox’s body, gently curling it around Mox’s throat. “Tell me what you want from this.”

“Anything,” Mox says. “Legit, just…whatever you want.”

Wheeler sighs. “I could make you sign a pact with me to give me your soul.”

“Deal.”

“No!” Wheeler laughs. “You – no. Stop it. This is serious.”

Mox licks his lips. He crowds into Wheeler’s space, presses a leg between his thighs. “Want you to fuck me and tell me what to do during.”

“Using the powers?” Because he has to check. He has to make sure.

“Yes, Jesus, how many times do I gotta tell you?” Mox huffs.

“Be nice,” Wheeler snaps, with just a little power behind it.

Mox’s eyes glaze over, smile on his lips. “Yeah,” he says, sounding far away. “Yeah, like that. Thanks, baby.”

“This is ridiculous,” Wheeler grumbles. “You horny bastard. Tell me exactly what you want.” He puts the power behind it.

“I want you to fuck me against the sink,” Mox says. “I want you to make me beg for it. I wanna beg for it.” He turns his eyes on Wheeler’s, spaced out, but knowing. “I want your cock.”

Wheeler sighs. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

“I’m so nice,” Mox says, voice a little weird. “You want me nice.”

“I do.” Wheeler thinks for a second. “Hold onto the sink. And don’t move.”

“Okay.” Mox shoots him an absolutely radiant smile before he turns around and grabs the sink. Wheeler had been thinking Mox would face him, but this works.

“I’ll be back in just a second,” Wheeler says. “Don’t move.” He considers. “Um, unless there’s, like, an emergency. Also, you can breathe and body stuff. And if something is wrong or – yeah, just don’t let yourself or anyone else get in danger. Otherwise, stay just like that. You understand?”

Mox doesn’t answer.

“Mox?” Wheeler peeks around him to see Mox with his entire body held stiff. “Oh, shit! Yeah, you can talk, that’s fine.”

“I understand,” Mox says. “Hurry up, though. I can only be nice for so long.”

Wheeler gives him a kiss on the cheek, because Mox is obnoxious and charming all at once, and rushes up the stairs. He grabs lube, and, just for fun, a vibrator, and hustles downstairs. “You good, Mox?”

“Impatient,” Mox says. “Trying to be good.”

“Aw,” Wheeler says. “Not exactly what I meant, but okay.” He fumbles a little, trying to set everything on the counter. He pushes away the clutter, because he has a feeling he might need something to grip onto. “Any reason you want me to fuck you in the kitchen?”

“Never done it before,” Mox answers. “Adds a little spice to it.”

“Oh, because your demon boyfriend fucking you under a weird demon power isn’t spicy enough,” Wheeler grumbles, but he reaches around for Mox’s belt. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Mox all but whines. “I told you already.”

“You’re getting kind of bitchy,” Wheeler says, unbuttoning Mox’s pants. “I don’t remember telling you to be bitchy.”

“Didn’t tell me not to be,” Mox singsongs. “Maybe you should give me a specific instruction.”

“Ugh, fine, be a bitch, whatever,” Wheeler says, getting a hand around Mox’s cock, “but if you’re too mean, I stop.”

Mox whines, hips twitching. “That’s a very fine line for me to tread.”

Wheeler hums a little, hand still as Mox squirms under him. “Better tread lightly, then.” He lets go, drizzles some lube on his hands, and strokes gently. “Don’t move.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“I said you could be a bitch,” Wheeler says, stroking slowly, “not be mean.”

Mox lets out another whine, his knuckles turning white as they grip the edge of the sink. “You’re the one being mean.”

“I’m allowed to be mean,” Wheeler says, finally getting a little fun out of it, “you asked me to make you beg, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, this is me, trying to make you beg.” He keeps stroking Mox with the lightest, gentlest grip, being as infuriating as he can muster, all while Mox is making this high pitched whine that makes Wheeler feel a little giddy. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah,” Mox says, “give me anything. Anything you want. Tell me to – ”

“Quit that!” Wheeler says, and he lets go of Mox’s cock, steps away from him.

“No,” Mox says. “What the fuck? You’re the worst.”

“Again, you told me to make you beg,” Wheeler says. “If I say you can move, are you gonna be good?”

“Yeah,” Mox says, “I will.”

“Then, you can turn around and let go of the sink,” Wheeler says, “and that’s it.”

Mox spins so fast it almost makes Wheeler dizzy. “Hi,” he says, little smile playing on his lips. “Fuck me now?”

“You haven’t begged yet,” Wheeler says, “and that was a specific request.” He reaches over, grabs the vibrator. Mox’s eyes get comically wide. “Yeah, I thought you might like this.” Wheeler turns it on. “Any requests?”

Mox closes his eyes, breathes deeply, then looks at Wheeler. “Uh.”

The vibrator’s a little thing, really, and Wheeler knows Mox likes it as sort of an extra while they’re fucking, likes Wheeler to feel it on the outside of him while Mox can feel Wheeler inside him. But he wants Mox to say it.

“Want you in me,” Mox says. “And want that on – anywhere.” He squirms. “Kiss me?”

Wheeler leans in like he’s the one being voice commanded, kissing Mox with the power of the whole world behind him. He drops his hand and lets the vibrator drag along the length of his cock. Mox moans into his mouth, desperate, hands reaching up to grip Wheeler’s hair.

“Like that,” Mox says, “fuck, baby, like that.”

“Good to know. Now you want me inside you, huh?”

“Fuck, yes, oh my god,” Mox throws his head back. “God, you’re the fucking worst. If you don’t get inside me now, I’m going to die, you fucking monster.”

“Demon,” Wheeler replies primly. “I thought I told you not to be mean. Maybe I just walk away.”

Mox’s eyes meet his, and they aren’t as glazed over as they were before. “Don’t you dare,” he says, and it would be a little more intimidating if he wasn’t half pouting. “Come on, please?”

“You called me a monster.”

“It’s a compliment,” Mox snaps, and Wheeler laughs.

“Well, in that case.” Wheeler grabs Mox’s hips and turns him around, pressing up along his back. He shoves down his own sweats to his knees, finally able to admit he’s as impatient about this as Mox is. He slicks up his cock with one hand while teasing Mox with the vibrator. And he’s struck with an idea. He trails it down behind Mox’s balls, holding it right behind them. He starts without the powers, wants to gauge how Mox reacts to it. “Hold the vibrator. Right here.”

“Hmm?”

“You want the vibrator?”

Mox nods. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Then you have to hold it,” Wheeler says, power behind it.

“I’ll hold it,” Mox says, and he does, taking it from Wheeler’s grip. He shudders, a whole body thing, and Wheeler lets himself admire the masterpiece in front of him, the thumbtack scars, the proof of the way Mox is willing to let his body suffer for his art. It feels like an honor to be the one giving Mox a little pleasure when all others only get to cause pain.

He rubs the head of his cock between Mox’s cheeks, just a little.

“Now, please,” Mox demands.

“Oh, please?” Wheeler asks. “That’s new. Glad to know you can beg. No, Mox, I gotta open you up first.”

And it’s so easy, isn’t it, the way Mox shifts his legs and the vibrator at the same time to accommodate one, two, then three fingers. He takes Wheeler so well, every time. “You’re so good at this,” Wheeler says, watching a little as his fingers disappear into Mox, as Mox pushes back on them. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Not enough,” Mox gasps.

“Turn up the vibrator, then.”

With a whine, Mox does as Wheeler commanded, and that full body shudder hits again. “Oh, Christ fucking god, Wheeler, if you don’t get in me right now...”

“I am in you.”

“You know what I mean,” Mox growls, and it’s close enough to begging that Wheeler relents.

The first slide into Mox’s body feels like coming home, and Mox reaches a hand back to grab at Wheeler’s hip. “Fuckin’ finally,” Mox says on an exhale. “Come on, start moving. You’re takin’ too long.”

“I – what – turn up the vibrator again, you insufferable motherfucker,” Wheeler grumbles. Mox does so, and, fuck, it hits Wheeler like a train. He can feel everything, he supposes, more than a human, but this is a whole new level: the vibrator, the way Mox eggs him on, the way he can really slam into Mox’s body from this angle. He lets himself get a little distracted, loses track of time and space and sense. He feels drunk with it, obsessed, and he bites at Mox’s neck a little too hard, with the wrong teeth. He tastes pennies.

“Shit,” he says, pulling back. “Mox, I’m sorry, I –”

“Again,” Mox says, “oh, fuck, yes. Do that again.”

“You and your stupid pain kink,” Wheeler mutters, but he relents, pressing another biting kiss to Mox’s neck, a little more controlled this time, sure to leave a mark but no punctures. Mox grinds down onto his cock, twisting.

“Close,” Mox says, voice hardly more than a whisper. “Wanna – wanna come, please, wanna come.”

“Turn the vibrator as high as it’ll go,” Wheeler commands. “And hold on onto the sink again.”

Wheeler practically sees stars and the vibrator goes full blast, and he thrusts into Mox. He wraps an arm around his waist for leverage. “Good?” he asks Mox. “Tell me what you want.”

“Harder,” Mox whines. “Don’t stop until – until you come inside me.”

Wheeler’s the one whining at that, and he follows Mox’s demands. He wraps a hand around Mox’s cock and it’s seconds, really, that Mox is coming all over himself and Wheeler’s hand. He’s shaking.

“You can move the vibrator,” Wheeler says, chasing his own orgasm.

“No,” Mox says. “K-keeping it – until you – ” He cuts himself off with something akin to a wail.

Wheeler ramps up the pace until he’s coming hard, teeth sunk into the back of Mox’s neck. Mox slumps over the sink, dropping his hand. When he gets a little more sense back in his body, Wheeler eases the vibrator out of Mox’s hand, turns it off.

“Okay, breaking the control,” Wheeler mumbles, lips against Mox’s back. “Formally rescinding all verbal subconscious insistence. Not sure what I have to do to make sure it’s gone.”

“It’s gone,” Mox says. “Oh, fuck.”

Wheeler pulls back a little, pulls off his shirt to clean Mox up a little. “Are you okay?”

Mox is quiet as he pulls himself full to standing, and a wave of anxiety crashes over Wheeler. He shouldn’t have allowed this. He should have stopped it.

The wave disappears when he sees the grin on Mox’s face and in his clear eyes. “Oh, fuck, so much better than okay.” He laughs, rubs a hand over his head. “We’re gonna have so much fun with that power of yours and those, uh,” he touches gingerly at the bruises along his neck, “are those demon teeth?”

Wheeler grimaces. “They are.”

“Hot,” Mox says, nodding. “Yeah, break those out whenever you want, baby.” He takes the t-shirt from Wheeler’s hands, wipes off his body and hands where Wheeler missed. “Not sure how I feel about the kitchen bit, though. Worked in the moment but…” He trails off, gesturing to the mess they made across a few cabinets and in the sink. Mox pulls up his jeans, but skips the belt. “We’re gonna have to bleach this shit down,” Mox says, hands on hips, frowning.

Wheeler groans. “Not the fucking bleach again.”

“Gotta,” Mox says, with his best imitation of a pout.

“Fine,” Wheeler decides, “but we’re making a deal.”

Mox lights up. “Like a sexy demon deal?”

“No, fuck, fine! We’ll do – every time I agree to your bleach-related cleaning requests, I get a kiss.”

Mox nods. “I can work with that.” He leans in, kissing Wheeler gently.

“What was that for?”

“Prepayment,” Mox says, giddy. “This’ll be fun.”

[hrokkall]

what would the scribes be like as trolls 👀

FINE okay

Leshy

Bronzeblood (orange text, animal motif… come on guys)

Exceptionally strong telepathic connection with animals

Horns are probably branch-ish. Vaguely antler shaped.

Lusus based upon one of the rare act 1 cards; either the pack rat to keep with Leshy’s pet rat in canon or the amalgam to represent his affinity for every sort of animal (or. Y’know. A bear. That’s the easy answer). Probably manages to take his lusus off-planet too.

Grimora

Jadeblood (green text, association with vampires… these write themselves)

May or may not be a rainbow drinker. Probably. They’re both similarly undead so yea why not.

Horns curl towards the center of the forehead then move upwards kind of like her skull-circlet in canon

Either has something insectoid for a lusus or—if we’re continuing to base them off of rare cards—maybe something like the headless horseman. But it’s just… headless horse. Bug horse.

Listen when I said “I put thought into this unfortunately” I didn’t say I put a lot of thought into it.

P03

Blueblood (Association with machines + similar text color. Sort of)

Probably lacks the inherent strength that a lot of bluebloods seem to have but is also probably ≈90% metal at this point. I mean come on, it’s still P03. Given the opportunity it’s going to make itself a robot body let’s be honest here.

Horns are ridiculously asymmetrical, kind of like the greebling on the top of its head in act 2 (it’s there in act 3 as well but it’s more pronounced in act 2)

I’m not putting thought into a lusus for this guy because he probably wouldn’t care either. I’d say hrokkall or stoat but they’re a cop-outs and also not techno cards so we’ll go with the steel mice (or mouse, singular). He keeps strapping weapons to his lusus to make her cooler digimon style.

Magnificus

Violetblood (Somewhat similar to text color (I refuse to make him fuchsia to match it) + there was at least one of these guys with a wizard motif. Plus being a seadweller means he gets to live far away from everyone which he would love)

I don’t know where the future vision would come in because seadwellers don’t have powers. He’s an exception I guess. I also think him having some bioluminescence like deep-sea fish would be fun. Bioluminescence and fancy fins and wizard robes with 2000 layers of thin fabric in flowing layers that only look cool underwater and mox crystal earrings and

I don’t know what his horns would look like. Probably some spirally sort of pattern that sort of blends due to the fact that he hasn’t cut his hair Ever

I’d say wolf for lusus but again that’s a cop-out answer. None of the magic cards are super “creature” though so maybe he’d just get something sort of crystalline—like a porcupinefish with acicular mox spines. An orb to ponder.

I know trolls have different life spans based on blood type but we’re ignoring that because it’s funnier if they’re all balls old and immortal just like in canon—they all end up on the same planet after being exiled as adults and they’re not thrilled about it. They’re also just as much assholes as they are in canon too. They all still play cards too.

[faggotmox]

oh fuck i'm abt to talk abt growing up the child of alcoholics with a bryan as an older brother so scroll on or hit read more, i do not care.

my moms drank herself to death. she drank our whole lives & well before it. my dad too but he's a passive drinker. anyways, the point being my mom was fucked up, she had mental health issues & came from a physically & emotionally abusive home. as a child she was kept from her father after her parents divorced, her mother beat her at times, & she often had to protect her little brother who is kinda slow.

guess what kinda environment she made for us? my moms never laid hands on us, but she abused emotionally & mentally. the shit she did always raised alarm bells with me (crawling into my bed, drunk at early hours as she cried abt how she's a bad mom to me & things along these lines). my brother did not see these things are red flags or alarms.

my mom & I were my brother's only blood relatives here bc my mom took him from his dad after her divorce & moved across the country (huh kinda like how her mom kept her from her dad after their split, huh???). my dad was a fine father to us (aside from the drinking & queerphobia) but he was only my brother's dad by default which is proved now after my mom's passing & my dad doesnt really want anything to do with my brother.

anyways, my mom was all my brother had. so there was always an excuse or a reason why what she was doing was okay or fine or didn't matter. ofc we never had big blow up abt shit, bc in real life people just die they don't have big dramatic bullshit. but bryan's point of view, his excuses, his reasoning, runs parallel to my brother's feelings & place. i was the one trying so hard to get him to see, so he didn't get fucked up by her. i never wanted to like cut my mom out, maybe get her help but yeah she died before that, i just didnt want my brother wrapped up in her issues which caused issues in him.

i the kid that realized i was an alcoholic & got to work on that. my brother didn't, he still doesn't see what she did & we are going five plus years post death by drinking. & we watcher her kill herself, she was told to stop drinking & she pared down. drank "only" beer & wine, nothing hard, & ofc that was still making her sick. she eventually got sick enough she couldn't drink really.

so much of the emotional charge between regal, bryan, & mox, all people who have first hand experience with life threatening addiction, is so fucking real. if youve never been in it, like we have, you may not understand the pain these three are sharing & presenting to us. ive been mox holding onto the rope, shaking & wanting to plead for bryan to see but knowing he wont. ive been bryan, blinded by the love of someone important & special something unconditional. & ive been regal, a drunk who has hurt the people around me.

god that fucked me up. but it did it's job. it got under my skin, it triggered me & forced me to deal with certain feelings ive compartmentalized. as a person who has lived, in a way, every aspect of this story they're telling...its accurate & it hurts & its fucking painful & it's good. as hard & painful & unwanted as this is for me, its also good for me. & as someone who cant fathom putting that out there, on a national stage, i respect what they're doing bc it must be fuckin hard.

i lost over a year's sobriety on October 25th. i only got a few weeks under me anymore. & in a way this reminded me that it's going to relapse, that it's part of recovery, & i can move forward from here. its fuckin dumb that this shit can work, like when it's something you want to & need to see, art can work really well to help you realize shit. it fuckin sucks but im not alone. my mom wasn't alone. my brother isn't alone. even if we don't quiet see it.

[sheinthatfandom]

Okay I need to RANT and I was talking to a friend about all this but since I don’t have the go ahead imma keep them under wraps cause lord knows I get enough asshole anons I don’t need to bring any to their doorsteps over my ranting.

First off if this is what I can expect for the next year I’m FUCKED when it comes to be entertained. Like I know not everything is gonna be for me they’re booking for everyone fine whatever. But a whole night with Jericho (losing but then beating up the not just one but TWO young handsome charismatic talent that beat him) lethal JJ saraya Darby like this was not my night. The few things that were for me did not go long enough or the mics werent working.

Like can we clean up the story threads we ended 2022 with please! First off is Bryan in the bcc? What is going on with Daniel is there any plan on getting his career back on track or are we just waiting for his and wheelers contracts to be over so regal can take them? Also why no wheeler? No promo no match no backstage no nothing why? Claudio who teamed up with mox against top flight was in his fuck them kids era like can we get an interview as to why? Is bcc moving heel or are they not did too flight just piss them off THAT much? Why the fuck are we fighting too flight again? Like does Bryan wanna spank some kids now cause yutas right there bitch go home and spare with your student.

Wardlow got his hair cut off and I would like to see it I would like to know what he’s doing he coulda walked around with his hoodie up ready to pop out like I woulda accepted it.

Best friends might be breaking up but I’m guessing since orange is actually scheduled for Friday maybe we’ll actually do something there.

And like okay maybe tk had such a hard on for darbys hometown hero moment he completely forgot about other things he might want to check up on but like this is not a booker of the year episode I’m sorry

It very much feels like filler and like we’re sacrificing an episode to then blame not having omega and the bucks on to claim oh there was no big name to keep people interested. Like I’m promised weekly Bryan matches and then max wrestling for an hour I didn’t expect him to wrestle again until double or nothing so yay for that saraya being cunty to shida is hopefully building to shida getting her own storyline separate of the belt and Britt which also yesss please more womens stories but man I went to do dishes and I missed nothing like that’s no good.

I’m gonna headcanon that this was intentional to allow people a nap after staying up late/early to watch wrestle kingdom cause…. Yeah I got nothing

Oh and WHERE TF IS HOUSE OF BLACK!!!

[hannahhook7744]

Moxford Frankenstein-Van Helsing's application;

Name: Moxford William Frankenstein-Van Helsing.

Known Aliases: Moxie Frankenstein-Van Helsing, Will Van Helsing, Wilford Frankenstein, The Night Guard, Frankenstein Jr, Frankenstein's monster #2, Frankenboy, The Wendino, Frankengo, and the back up night guard.

Nicknames or Other: Moxie, Mox, Moxie boy, Moxie Bear. no one calls me that. not true. Hope calls you that. She's the only one who gets to keep her teeth when she does. ,Rager, Buster, Tank, Tiger, Bull head, force, Hot head, Clock, Tantrum, and bombshell. You guys suck at nicknames. If you want good nicknames write you own application. Oh shut up.

Date of Birth or Best Guess: 15 years ago on November 21st.

Place of Birth: Van Helsing Mannor on the isle. Where else? You don't have to be so rude. It's a stupid question, of course I have to be rude, Howiee!

Favorite Color: Red. Maroon to be specific.

Favorite Activity: Playing sports, buliding miniatures, listening to music, doing magic tricks, playing the harmonica, keeping Rian away from water, and listening to Hope sing. They only asked for one. Does it look like I care?

Favorite School Subject: Scheme Management 101 and Advanced Vanities.

Father's Name (or alias): Dr. Victor fricking pysco Frankstein.

Mother's Name (or alias): Elsa no care Van Helsing.

Father's Profession: Mad wacko Scientist. Will you stop crossing everything I write out? NO.

Mother's Profession: Professor. Of Literature. Why did you even cross that out?

You were being sarcastic. It's not hard to tell.

So what if I was?

This attitude isn't gonna get you into Auardon.

Maybe I don't want to go to Auardon, ever think of that?

You're lying. You wanna go and you know it.

Why would I want to go? It's stupid and bright and condescending over there.

Because Hope wants to go there and you'll go anywhere she goes..

Well, Hannah will get us in over there no matter what we say. So I'm not worried.

Well you got me there.

Who is your favorite of the first wave of VKs? There is no wrong answer.

This is a stupid fucking question and I refuse to answer. Moxie! What?! It's true. It's a completely useless question! Who has a favorite peer? Just answer!Fine!

Hannah. My favorite vk is Hannah.

There are you happy?!

Very.

In your own words, tell us why you want to come to Auradon. There is no wrong answer. 

Because Hope wants to come to Auradon and she's my girlfriend and I will do anything that makes her happy. And because I want to see Hannah again and make sure she's okay and safe. Because that's part of my job and she's kind of like my younger sister or cousin.

Finally you admit it.

Shut up smartass.

Signature:

Moxie F.V.H.

[saturatedsinset]

✄ for "sunshower" and ♡ for "warm blood" please!

✄: something i deleted before the final draft

i found the mindscape descriptions really challenging! so i rewrote them and the directions specifically, the way they Get to the creek, like three times? i like how it turned out but yeah it was tough while i was writing it

♡: my favorite part

that's so hard!!!! i love good dom mox, always, i love adam being conscientious about his pals but extremely lost in the world of Kink, i love kenny being kenny all over the place. probably my favorite part is the top-angst conversation, this bit. i'm putting it under a cut because it's very long

“So. Tell me what’s up.”

Adam sits heavily, hunches over, elbows on his knees. Running a hand through his hair, he drinks. “It’s bad to want to hurt people,” he says, as plainly as he can. 

The thing about Mox, Adam is realising, is that his attention can be really intense. Mox is just looking at him steadily, but it’s like the full force of how much Mox can be is focused on him. Adam fidgets, stares down at his beer. “That’s a little complicated,” Mox says. “Technically you hurt people for a living.”

“That’s different. You know that.”

“Why?” It’s not accusatory, but it feels pointed.

“That’s not— like—” Adam shakes his head, frustrated. “They can fight back. And they agreed to it.”

“You don’t think Kenny could fight back, if he wanted? You don’t think Kenny wanted it?”

“It’s not the same!”

“Right,” Mox says, almost gently. “It’s not. But Kenny could fight back, if he wanted. The difference is that he doesn’t want to.”

“That’s not the point,” Adam mutters, frustrated. “It’s not like that. You shouldn’t hurt someone who isn’t fighting back.”

Mox sighs. “You talked to him, right? He told you why he likes it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Jesus, Page, really? He likes it and it’s all fine and you still have a problem?”

“But we shouldn’t ,” Adam says forcefully. “From the other side. Nobody should like hurting someone.”

Mox scoffs. “So you should suffer through it and he should like it?”

“Maybe!”

There’s a pause. Mox looks frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose, before he taps something out on his phone. Adam doesn’t know how to break the silence, so he just. Doesn’t.

“Listen,” Mox says, eventually. “It’s not bad to want to do something he likes. Fucking… obviously. But even if it was, part of why he likes it is because he wants to make you happy. Right? Or me. Whoever’s topping him. So if you don’t like it, he won’t either.”

Adam blinks. “Why?”

“How should I know?” Mox shrugs. “People are weird. Sometimes Kenny wants to get hurt to get off. If you want to hurt him to get him off, if that gets you off, then who cares? Match made in heaven."

“But…” Adam swallows. Mox doesn’t cut him off this time, but Adam still has to stop, try to find the right words. “But what if I end up actually fucking him up? Like, bad. And he doesn’t like it anymore.”

“Then he tells you to stop, and you stop, and you look after him until he feels okay again,” Mox says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Look, you aren’t gonna break him. And if you do something that’s too much for him, you can tell, or he’ll say stop, and that’s it. He’s not made of glass.”

It makes sense, when Adam thinks about it. But he can’t stop being worried, can’t stop feeling like he’s doing something bad by even wanting to… to make Kenny submit. Adam’s quiet for a long while, just keeps drinking his beer, staring at the carpet.

Mox breaks the silence, again. “Besides,” he says, like it’s an afterthought and a finisher all at once, “do you really think Kota would be okay with anyone hurting Kenny if it were actually bad?”

“I guess,” Adam says reluctantly. “I just. I don’t want to hurt him. For real.”

“Course you don’t.” Mox is back to being gentle, pats Adam’s arm. “None of us do.”

[ducknotinarow]

"Alright, so we kissed. Don’t get so bent out of shape about it." ( -yeets for Striker/Moxxie )

| Muse interaction

When it came to alcohol it was more than fair to say and call Mox a lightweight Sure he could handle a night at the bar but consuming too much did him in so easily. The present company did not help of course. That stupid good look imp Striker, who was just oh so great at everything and anything he tried. Fine Moxxie could live with the fact they knew their way around the farm better than he did. Being from the Wrath ring was one thing but he didn’t grow up in the farmlands like most imps from there did. So yeah okay maybe he wasn’t exactly the right fit there. He also wasn’t the strongest or fastest or most agile and such so the whole competitive thing went about as good as one could guess when he entered in a way to try and prove himself to the rest of his co-workers when they were invited out to the ring since the Prince needed his book they weren’t going to be getting to do their job anyway. It just left Moxxie far too aware of his weakness. Wrath imps were not much for weapon use unless it was more hands-on like knives over the use of a gun. But nothing any other imp said to Moxxie got to like whenever striker opened his damn mouth. The imp just got under his skin, maybe because they were just jealous. He huffed over that idea.

"Stupid wanna be cowboy, just a farmhand." the imp said to himself as he nurse at the bottle he was currently working on. As if Satan themself could hear the imp. Low and behold that damn striker came up into the bar. Moxxie hung his lip annoyed once more. Wasn't it enough that they had humiliated him in front of all his co-workers? That stupid smug handsome face wasn't making things any better!! As they strolled in. Simply making was to the bar top themselves but it was still too close for Moxxie's liking at the moment. Unaware of anything the imp said but he knew they noticed him suddenly returning to his drink to show he was ignoring them. Easier said than done. Jeez, this guy just never shuts up dose her? Moxxie thought to himself as he turned his head. Bad move. Since it brought him face to face with Striker now. Jeez, he hated the sound of thier voice that damn smug look on thier face how thier smile just curled. Mox would love to just do something to wipe it off thier face. Hand let go of the bottle as he went to stand up, off-balanced so he had to hold on to the counter in order to upright. Fixing them with a look he'll put them in thier place he decided to point a finger thier way jabbing them in the chest

"You talk a lot for someone who shouldn't!" Moxxie slurred out as he spoke yes, clearly that was very well put. "Well, you know what I think you should do with that mouth instead?" letting go of the counter now as he very clumsily grabbed at thier shirt trying to show how intimidating he could be. He was an assassin too after all. "I think-I think you should keep it shut" he expressed, tugging them down to his level but with the wrong kind of force as lips soon met from the action.

Mox's eyes widened in surprise that was not what he meant! But now that is how it was going to come off and look! enough to get him a bit sober in thought as he pulled away letting go of them quick to back away as if it was Striker who had initiated the kiss and not Mox himself just now. "Oh Crumbs I uh that wasn't I didn't mean, what I wanted to say was" he was fumbling all over the place and tripping over his words. Striker didn't seem to be angered by the action though..amused if anything and Moxxie might hate that even more.

"Alright, so we kissed. Don’t get so bent out of shape about it."

"I I am not bent outta shape!" oh he was "Tha that didn't mean anything so don't go and get it all twisted in your head you uh you vermin?" was that an actual insult? he picked it up from a show so he wasn't positive. "It's not like I wanted to kiss you I wanted to say you should just keep your mouth shut," Arms folding over his chest as if anything he followed up with would somehow help his case here.

[mummersummers]

tag 9 people you want to know better

I was tagged by @keets-writing-corner

3 ships: You'll take two and you will like it. Myself and Sleep. Myself and Not Sleeping. We are a love triange.

(Kidding, I relatively boring with ships so I guess... oh gosh, what do I like??... Maybe Zutara [Zuko x Katara] but Aang and Katara are fine too [atla]. Maybe... Pike and Keyleth [Vox Machina] idk... they would be cute... And you know what, I give up, a crack pairing: Vin Diesel and your Family.)

1st ever ship: I don't know, I just go with whatever is spoon fed to me lol. Maybe a warrior cats pairing but idr anything anymore of that book series.

last song: last song i'll ever listen to or ... *checks spotify* the last song i did listen to? Last song I do hope I listen to as a slip away better be the Mii theme. Last song I listened to was... huh. A piece I was listening to for research. Moon Reflection In Er Quan by the China Broadcast National Orchestra.

last movie: Oh gosh, I think Everything Everywhere all at Once? That was a... that was a movie.

currently reading: I haven't been reading anything major or ongoing as of recently. Too busy trying live. Not even sure what I last read. Maybe the Wacom ExpressKey Remote manual.

currently watching: My screen. Probably vox mox season two in a bit. Probably the collapse of the economy through the credit interest decline on my bank app.

currently consuming: Cheez-It baked snack crackers. Extra Toasty edition cause packaging and marketing your burnt product is delicious.

currently craving: Real sustenance and maybe touch. Like a hug or a pat on the head.

Picrew time? Got it.

Linky Link

tag 9 people? i have no friends beyond keet and maniac and those who have already been tagged. cool k bye

tag 9 people you want to know better

I was tagged by @arkhana

3 ships: How about… Mia/Moreau from Resident Evil Village… Emmet/Johanna from Pokemon… And… (former) Wheeljack/Shockwave from Transformers Cyberverse lol I like a lot of ships. And I know. I’m disappointed that two of these are straight too. But Mia/Moreau is my weird little monsterfucker ship that I and only I enjoy from the RE8 fandom, and I’ve been working on something for my Coordinator!Emmet AU which would eventually (probably) end with Emmet and Johanna getting platonically married to meme on Ingo and for tax benefits lol. Wheeljack/Shockwave is here because I’ve recently been watching Transformers: Cyberverse and Wheeljack and Shockwave are TOTALLY exes and I love it! Shockwave’s probably my favorite character in Cyberverse since its version of Starscream is just… SO BAD! Cyberverse has a good version of Shockwave. Still has that classic loyalty from gen 1, while being an unethical scientist like later iterations. Also he kept his severed hand around and programmed it to float around and do stuff for him, and I find that HILARIOUS! Cyberverse Shockwave is a good iteration of him! Even though his vibes are RANCID lol. Oh, but as a bonus to the person who tagged me, @penquinlori​ and I have talked A LOT about Bernadette Beneviento/Salvatore Moreau as an idea. Basically the idea was that Sal was engaged to Bernadette (Donna’s aunt) some time before he started undergoing the cadou experiments. At some point Miranda took Bernadette for experiments and she died. Sal was away from the village at the time and so was never really made privy to what happened to his fiance. Sal’s brother Mihai may have also been involved in all of this too. It’s all very heartbreaking and I love it. >:3c And we’ve both been working on fic that features this relationship. :p

1st ever ship: I think it must’ve been… Naruto/Hinata from Naruto…? Because that was the first fandom that I like… REALLY got into…? Yeah, boring, I know. Like maybe I shipped May/Ash from Pokemon before that? Hard to say. But I remember shipping Naruto/Hinata pretty hard when I was a kid. Though I did have an OC that I made to be with Gaara lol

last song: If we’re not counting the theme song from the Ghost and Molly McGee or the music from Encanto… According to Spotify the last song I listened to was Smoke Damage by Hi I’m Case. Though I’ve also had Sarah by the Derina Harvey Band and Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives stuck in my head lately lol

last movie: Encanto (I just wanted a good cry, you know? Honestly, I didn’t cry as much as I would have liked. I could probably use some more good cries. >.< )

currently reading: Uhhhhhh… I’m REAL bad about reading things. I’m a very slow reader and can mostly only focus on like… Manga… (Which I’ll read a volume in one sitting) so the best I can come up with is like… Metro 2033…? Which I haven’t gotten around to reading in like… Over a year… >.< I guess you can maybe count The Promised Neverland too. I like reading that one when I go to the library.

currently watching: The Ghost and Molly McGee (literally in the other window while I wait for it to load a little lol)

currently consuming: Peppermint tea with chocolate truffles as the sweetener lol

currently craving: Soup and orange juice (will have after I’m done with the tea)

I was also tagged to create myself in in this picrew.

I’m very pleased about all of the options for black people, but man… Not a lot of options for more masculine presenting people who aren’t black in this picrew… Though to be fair, this is a Japanese site and I’m Asian, so I usually have tons of options lol. Little disappointed they didn’t have a darker brown for eyes and hair in this picrew either. :p

tagging (but only do this if you want to): @penquinlori​ @steeltypeloverbecca​ @keets-writing-corner​ @momodarling89​ @xenoverse2194​ @waywardstation​ @detectivesnickers​ @bonf​ @trashbunnysblog​ @zeco5000​

[ilguna]

Lacuna - Chapters 1-4 (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 14.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

– 

-- CHAPTER ONE --

The sound of screaming jolts you awake, enough to get your heart racing, and the grogginess of sleep is completely erased from your mind. Your eyes search the room quickly, looking for some sort of intruder, until you realize it’s just your sister again. Awake before the rest of the house, uncomfortable because of the silence, and probably starving.

You’re not sure how it’s possible to have the same exact reaction every single time she does it. But your brain thinks the same thing without fail, that someone has just broken into the house, and you’re about to get murdered. It’s ridiculous for a couple of reasons. The first, is that they would most likely not go for the back room first. And the second is that no one gets murdered here.

If anything, everyone huddles up together, protecting each other the best they can. To turn against someone else would be ridiculous. There is no reason for murder, when two of you get picked off every single year. If anything, you should be teaming up together to get it stopped. But that would cost thousands of lives, once again.

With a yawn, you push yourself off of the bed, dragging your feet when it comes to taking care of your sister. The second you’re in sight, she seems to calm down a little bit, holding her arms up to you. You scoop her up, holding her against your chest as you shush her slightly, bouncing your steps a little more as you head into the kitchen.

No one else is home except the two of you. Reed and Mox are most likely on a boat in the middle of the water, fishing to fill today’s quota. They’ll be saving a couple for you guys later tonight, and if they come back with enough, you’re sure they’ll send you to the square to trade for bread, and anything else you’ll need for today.

You can take a guess already. It’ll be soaps and shampoos, and if there isn’t a nice enough outfit that you can find in your mom’s old wardrobe, then you will have to go out to buy a hand-me-down from the square. Alyssum--your sister--will most likely fit in to her outfit from last year, she hasn’t grown much since then. Your brothers stopped growing a couple of years ago, and they fit into your fathers pants and shirts just fine.

As you set your sister up on the floor with a little bit of soft, fresh bread, you head to your parents room. Holding your breath when you open the door, because you only come in here once a year. This will be the one time you permit yourself to look over it again. You don't’ stay for very long though, you don’t want to kneel and cry on the floor like you did two years ago. You’re terrified of the never ending onslaught of tears again.

Reed doesn’t have the same reaction as you and Mox do when you come into the room. Reed has to be the strongest, in his mind. He doesn’t want to watch as his younger siblings collapse and crumble beneath him. He lets you guys use him as a platform, and only sometimes do you get to return the favor.

You open the creaky wooden door, looking over the dresses. A frown comes over your face when you realize that last years had hardly fit. And if last year was a bust, then that means that all the others won’t be big enough either, right?

Even though you’re sure that it’ll be impossible for you to fit into any of them again this year, you pick out the biggest one. It’s the closest to the end, one you haven’t worn before because it was too big beforehand. How the tables have turn.

After you lay it over your arm, you shut the wardrobe doors and leave the room. After, you quickly lay the dress on the desk in the corner of the room. Something your father used to sit at every night as he wrote up things for the peacekeepers to send. While you’re in your room, you open up the shutters to see that the sun is higher than you thought. You’d think it to be early morning, the sky not even turning blue yet.

Quickly, you place your black flats beneath the dress, and you also lay out Alyssum’s baby clothes. By the time you’ve returned to the living room, Alyssum is finished with the bread. She chews on her favorite stuffed animal, staring off into space. Not a single care in the world.

Just as you’re deciding to change Alyssum and maybe start up the first bath of many that will happen, the door swings open. Mox is the first to appear in the doorway, hauling the cooler in his arms. When he sees you standing by the couch, he offers you a tight smile, before heading straight for the fridge.

On the other hand, Reed has a basket of bread. You’ll take a bet right now, that Mox had lost whatever game they were playing on the boat, making him carry the heavy cooler, while Reed got the lightest thing in the world. Reed shuts the door behind with his foot, and then he shuffles over to the counter, clearing the cutting board and knife into the sink to make room, before he sets it down.

“I’ve fed her.” you tell him, “And I’ve picked out her outfit and everything. Do I have to run down to the square for anything? Soaps?”

Mox groans out a complaint as he struggles to lift the cooler again. Reed chuckles, smirking at him, before he turns to you, “No, I got them early this morning before anyone else could. Go ahead and take a bath first, I have to help him out.”

“Shut up.” Mox shoots at him, glaring.

You leave the room quietly, picking up the dress from the room, and whatever you’ll be wearing underneath. The bath is a blur as you scrub the salt scent from your skin. It isn’t until you’re nearly done, when you realize that the soap is going to definitely cover it, with the sickeningly sweet smell that comes from it.

You take your time to dry your hair, getting dressed slowly to ensure that you don’t accidentally rip the dress, only to find out that it slips on freely. It’s not tight on you as you expected, you could run and nothing would tear. Once you leave the bathroom, you take your towel and brush with you, going to sit in your own room while you do your hair.

Just as you’ve gotten your hair to stay in place, with it being pulled back as best as possible so that you can see, Reed hands Alyssum off to you to dry off a little more and get dressed. It’s too easy for her, she doesn’t have much hair, you gather it into a tiny ponytail that makes a palm tree on the top of her head. For a cute effect, you add a bow to it. 

Reed and Mox are ready faster than you are. However, just because they’re fast, doesn’t mean that they’re not dragging their feet when it comes to leaving the house. The second you leave, it’s straight for the stage, where you’ll watch this years unfortunate tributes get reaped for the hunger games.

You could say a million bad things about the Capitol, and the games. But instead, you’ll keep it quiet this year. Because if there’s anything you don’t need right now, it’s being pulled in for the games. Your brothers can’t handle another death in the family, you know it.

Your mom had done enough damage on everyone, but your father was still around long enough to stay strong. Those are the only times you remember Reed still being so soft. Your mom had died giving birth to Alyssum, and no one had realized that she was bleeding to death until it was too late. Thankfully, you were too young, not allowed to be in the room until you were forced to say goodbye, before you were whisked away again. The next time you saw her after that was in the casket.

Your dad had done remarkably well when it came to keeping up with work, and juggling you and Alyssum. Mox and Reed were a year shy of not being in the reapings anymore, so they knew they would have to work harder, no matter what it took or sacrificed.

All that preparation had done Reed good, you suppose. Because only a few months later he would die in a fishing accident. Taking out District Four’s best fishers. For a while, there was talk that it was done on purpose, and the peacekeepers were tired of having to deal with every single person on that boat. But that wouldn’t add up correctly, because your dad was almost always a favorite of the peacekeepers, even the new ones.

In your opinion, your family has gone through enough. Too many have died, and honestly, you all were orphaned for a while, but under the radar. The second that Reed had turned eighteen, he immediately filed to be seen as the parent for all of you. Which stopped the community home from trying to snatch you up.

You guys stop to have the quick breakfast that was somehow skipped over by accident. Consisting of mostly bread, until Reed decides that it doesn’t hurt to have a little bit of fish too. When you’re all finished, the table is cleaned, and then you really have to leave the house.

The walk to the stage is mostly quiet. Reed will play around with Alyssum occasionally, but she mostly stares at the people around you. She hasn’t seen this many people gather together before, it’s mainly just you three, and then the neighbor kids. She wasn’t old enough last year to fully realize what was going on around her. Curious, for sure, but not really caring.

On the way, you manage to catch sight of one of your friends. The second that she turns her head in your direction, you wave. It takes her a moment to realize who you are because of the distance, but soon enough she buddies up next to you.

“Hey, pretty dress.” you tell her, and she beams a little bit.

“Thanks! That one’s new on you, did last year not fit?” she asks, she knows that this is your mothers dress no doubt, but she doesn’t bring it up. Instead, she alludes to it.

“It was tight enough last year, so I was sure it would rip by the seams this year. I found this one at the end.” you tell her, and she nods lightly.

The both of you go on like that, going back and forth talking about what you had done today. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to fill the silence, and suppress the sickness that’s beginning to rise in your stomach, like it does every year. You’d call it intuition if it weren’t so common.

She’s a year younger than you, so she has to move to her age group, fourteen. While you on the other hand, move to be in fifteen. As everyone slowly files in to the sections, you look to find Reed and Mox again, to see that they’re standing off to the side. Alyssum is on Reed’s shoulders, making him very easy to spot. He holds onto her hands tightly, not risking the chance of her falling. With them is one of the neighbor’s sons, Caspian. 

Soon, you turn back to look at the stage again to see that the governor is helping Mags up onto the stage. She’s the only victor of this district, and she’ll be the only help to anyone going into the arena. You really wish that the main career districts would stop being so prestigious, and allow others to win too. That they’d stop training their kids illegally and actually have a sliver of a chance like the rest of you.

They must have so many of their victor houses filled, that they’re always creating more. One new one every year, just in case they win again, which is hardly ever not the case. Instead of a single dozen, they must have four or five. 

Soon, the shuffling of feet has stopped, and the anthem plays. You watch for the fifteenth time as they play the same video. Listen as the same speech is given. That this is what the districts have earned, and being descendants from the originals that had thrown the revolution, you’ve automatically been given the same burden. Being alive is simply offensive to the Capitol.

And then the governor closes his speech, and your districts Capitol representative heads up to the microphone. Elysia Fardust--you really can’t believe that they have ridiculous names like that, as if the body modifications weren’t enough--is looking a lot more humble this year. Last year she had outdone everyone, wanting at least one year in the spotlight, you guess.

She wears a blonde wig, you can tell by the way it shines in the sun, reflecting the light off of it. They could have done their very best with it, trying to make it look realistic, and it still would have turned out looking cheap. Her theme this year seems to be blue and gold, since that’s what the frilly dress she wears is made up of. On her feet is also a pair of gold heels. They look like they would be trouble to walk in, but she moves around just fine. Around her wrists are bracelets that jangle and shine the light back into your eyes at the wrong angle.

There’s a huge smile on her face as she stands tall, “Good afternoon, citizens of District Four.” Unlike other representatives you’ve had, her accent doesn’t stand out as much, it’s a subtle thing, almost as if she’s ashamed of it, “Happy Hunger Games.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily, letting them land on the ground as you shake your head softly. Because only to the Capitol people, is this entire event amusing. Watching others fight to the death so that one may be the winner, win his life back. While everyone back home is forced to watch it in agony. A few will take bets, as their hopes for winners sink each year when all they get are dead bodies in the end.

“We’ll start with the ladies.” she chirps, and you feel the swarm of butterflies first, and then the disgust of her tone crushes all of them at once. Except for a few, which cause more harm than good, as they fly around. 

You can’t help but to turn to look at Reed and Mox, hoping that they can see where you’re standing. And miraculously, you’re able to catch Reed looking at you at the same time. Mox catches on eventually and looks over too. He also mouths for you to breathe.

The faint clinking of rings makes you look towards the stage again to see her pulling out the white paper slip. Butterflies swarm, and the only thing you can relate this feeling back to, is when you have those rare presentations in school. The type that means a lot on who you are, and the grade you recieve.

There’s a pain in your chest as you hold your breath to make all those butterflies stop flying and die from the lack of air. You’re not the only one though, you can feel every single girl that’s eligible to be put in the games, collectively hold their own breaths. Eyes wide and staring just like you are, hoping and praying that it’s not going to be you.

Elysia takes her time, unfolding the paper. She reads it to herself first it seems, before a wide smile spreads over her face, and she looks out to you girls, “Our girl tribute is (Y/n) Gallows.”

-- CHAPTER TWO --

You feel lifeless. As the blood drains from your face. As the wind leaves your lungs. As all the strength you had minutes ago suddenly diminishes. Standing is a hard thing to do. You feel like you should collapse, head aimed toward the sky as you stare. Leaving people to wonder if it’s the shock, or if it’s refusal to go up to the stage.

All you can do now is stare straight ahead at the stage. Feeling all the eyes bore on the back of your head. They’re all giving you away, and if they’d just look somewhere else, then they would have absolutely no clue that it was your name that was called. Elysia wouldn’t be able to spot you so easily like she is now, and the peacekeepers wouldn’t have started their march.

You swallow down the vomit, gritting your teeth as you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Robotically, you turn your body, being gentle on your feet as if you’ll fly into the air if you’re light enough. On the way to the walkway, you get a clear look at Reed and Mox and regret it immediately. You didn’t need to look at them, not yet.

Reed’s face is hard, straight and angry. He looks like one of those tributes that get thrown in once in a while. The type that fight really hard and nearly win every single year. Until some brat career district comes around and kills them off. Reed’s lips are pressed in a thin line, and his eyes stare into yours.

Mox isn’t as stoic. His eyes are glossy, you can see them from where you’re standing. You can also see how red and blotchy his face is getting. He’s already been crying, the tears must have burst right after your name had been called. But you don’t remember hearing the sound of him crying.

You could have easily missed it while your brain threw you in a surprised mindset. It would have been easy to miss the sounds of everyone around you--although you’re sure that there wasn’t much noise in the first place--as you were suddenly clouded by your thoughts. Different escape plans had come to mind, but all of those would have been foolish. You would be laughed at later on for being so cowardly.

When you make it to the walkway, you clear your face as best as you can, standing tall and squaring your shoulders. You force yourself to look tough, even though every single part of you is screaming. As long as you don’t look vulnerable on the outside, you’ll be fine. 

Elysia’s eyes follow you up the steps, taking your hand when you’re within length, and stopping you in front of the girls bowl. From here, you can see everyone, especially your brothers who aren’t looked so hot now. They must be envisioning it now, seeing you in the games. They must be seeing all of the scenarios, knowing that you’ll end up in at least one of them.

Elysia doesn’t waste any time, moving on to the boys bowl. She takes her time like she did the first time, reaching for one of the top ones, instead of digging her hand in the bowl like she did before. Had she plucked one from the top, you wouldn’t be where you are.

Suddenly, you’re glad that Reed and Mox are too old to be placed in the games. Too old to volunteer over some random boy that will be picked. They need to be here for Alyssum, and you know that very well. You’re sure that if it were possible, Reed would most definitely volunteer, so that he would be able to protect you in the games the entire time.

Mox wouldn’t be able to stomach it, being in the arena. He would last only so far, because he can’t kill people. He can hardly stand fish being killed so that you guys can live every single day. So that you can provide for the Capitol. Killing people is absolutely out of the question. But Reed would do it if he could. He’d do it for you because he knows that’s what an older sibling is supposed to do. Protect the younger ones.

Elysia unfolds the second paper, “Finnick Odair.”

You have to stop yourself from opening your mouth when your eyes land on him. And you know that you’re utterly screwed, because this is not an older boy that would take pity on you and hopefully keep you around in the arena because you’re from home. No, this is Finnick, fourteen, handsome, a year younger than you.

You will be expected to look over him, since you’re the older one now. The only experience you have when it comes to fourteen year-olds is the girl that you’re friends with. Who is staring at you with big eyes still, like she can’t believe she was just talking to you, and now you’re going to be sent into the games. She’s also thinking of all the possibilities.

Finnick comes down the aisle with the same hard look on his face that you had. Elysia doesn’t hold her hand out for him. Instead, she lets him walk in front of his bowl, and she turns to everyone that’s waiting below.

“May the odds be ever in your favor.” she says again, the first time was before it had started, “You can shake hands, now.”

She backs up, allowing you to get a look at Finnick. 

You’ve seen him around school, and you’ve talked to him plenty of times. He’s smart, he’s as knowledgeable with knots and fishing as you are. He’ll be a good swimmer, and he’ll know a few plants that are edible. And if he prefers spears rather than the actual fishing pole, then he’ll be able to throw well too. 

There’s got to be some hidden skills in there. But all you know for the most part, is that you’re even on some playing fields. You’re coming from the same district, you’re going to have the same skills. It won’t be like people coming from the main career districts, because they have years of training under their belt with so many things. It won’t be like the outsider districts like ten, eleven and twelve.

You’d consider Finnick a friend at this exact moment, with all of the times you have talked and all of the things you know about him. He’s your friend, and you hope that he considers you the same. Because in the arena, you’ll hope that he’ll consider an alliance. He’s from home, he’ll share the same memories, and he’ll make you feel safe again.

You take Finnick’s hand in yours, shaking it a couple of times. 

And then, you’re ushered off of the stage. You and Finnick are separated from each other as you’re guided and then locked into a room. Here, you pace the room back and forth, because it’s beginning to sink in. You’re going to be sent in an arena with twenty-three other teens your age, and you’re going to be forced to kill them. You’re going to have to survive the best you can, no matter how hard that is.

The door opens minutes later, and you look up to see your three siblings. You only have a couple of minutes to talk to them, says the peacekeeper. Then he shuts the door, and you’re engulfed in arms.

“Remember all the knots I taught you,” Reed tells you immediately, “How to prepare the fish properly, cook it thoroughly. Boil the water at least before you drink out of it. If they have iodine then that’s what you need to put in it, only a few drops.”

Between gasps of air, Mox begins to give his input, “If you can, make a spear. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just sturdy enough to throw. A strong stick, and sharpen it to a tip with a sharp rock.”

You suddenly know why they’ve been teaching you this information all these years. And you know why your dad did the same to them when the time came. It’s because if this had happened, you would be very good at all of the things that they had taught you over the years. There would be no time for hesitation inside of the arena, and there would be no possibility of that if you were so good at everything that would be used inside of there.

They’ve been preparing you this entire time.

Alyssum reaches for you, and Reed passes her over. You bounce her in your arms lightly, hugging her to your chest as you press a kiss to her forehead. This might be the last time you get to hold her. The last fuzzy memory she will have of you.

Mox must remember the same thing at the same time you do, because his arms swarm you again, and Reed follows. You stand there quietly for a long moment.

“Win, (Y/n).” Reed tells you, “Do everything you can to win. Don’t fall to the obvious things, you know how well you are. Don’t mess it up in there.”

“I know.” you whisper, and just before the doors open, Reed presents you with a freshly polished ring.

It takes you a moment before you recognize it, and that’s when your eyes go wide. It’s your mom’s engagement ring. Your mother hadn’t wanted something big on her finger, and so your dad got her something small. Something that represented the district, while also being a very beautiful ring.

It’s a silver ring, with one lone wave in the middle of it. You take it in your fingers, turning it over for a moment before you slide it on your ring finger with shaky hands. By the time you’ve looked up to thank him, there’s tears gushing down the sides of your cheeks.

Then, the door opens and Reed and Mox are scrambling to give you the last bit of affection they can afford. You kiss Alyssum one last time, before Reed carefully takes her from you. And the last thing you see are a fresh wave of tears on Mox’s face. The door shuts heavily after that, and you have to force yourself to sit down, as you wrap your arms around yourself.

You have a chance, you know that. There’s a chance that you will make it out of this, and you have to hold onto that. You can’t accept defeat just yet, because that’ll ruin your entire mindset. You’ll go into the games thinking you’re going to die, and it’ll take away all your fight. You’ll be weak, useless and depressed. Even the most incompetent fighter will be able to take you.

The doors open again, taking you by surprise as you look up to see Capsian. You and him don’t talk much. In fact, you two hardly get along because he’s always picking on you, and Reed won’t tell him to knock it off. You eventually started a grudge on him, and the resentment just grew from there on.

“I’ll take care of your brothers,” he tells you, “I’ll stay with them to help out around the house. My entire family wishes you good luck in the games.”

“Thank you,” you say, curling up on the couch, he takes this as an invitation to sit on the other end.

“You’ll be good at the games, I can feel it.” he tells you, nodding to himself as he stares out the window, “We’ll be cheering you on from here.”

You don’t say anything to this, and the rest of his few minutes is spent in silence. He wishes you luck once more, before he disappears out the doors, and then just like that, you’re left alone again. It isn’t for long, as the peacekeepers escort you to the train station, where you see your brothers standing there for a final time, since they have to see you off, no matter what happens.

You know that you’ll be on camera again here, and so you stop to stare off at the district. Then, you raise your hand to wave, eyebrows drawn together as you’re thinking.

Farewell District Four, you think, it’s been fun.

The second after you’ve stepped inside, the doors shut behind you. The train starts moving, and you can feel the shift in the air. You don’t stumble like Finnick, who has to put his hand on the wall to get a hold of himself again.

You stare at Finnick for a moment, unsure of how to approach this. Because you want to have him as a friend now, and have his back for as long as it will last. Which will hopefully be up until you’re bet against each other.

“Allies?” you ask hopefully, “Until we have to kill each other?”

“You’re start awfully early, don’t you think?” he doesn’t answer you initially, but he doesn’t waste too much time, “Yes, until we have to kill each other.”

“Glad to see you two are friendly,” Elysia says, interrupting us, “Your rooms are ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, beginning to walk towards yours, but Finnick doesn’t let you go so easily.

“You want to stick together?” 

The last time you’ve talked to Finnick had to be at least a couple of weeks ago. When you have the time, it’s normally clipped, little things. Passing conversations, because there’s never enough time to have full ones. It’s during school, and hardly after unless you accidentally run into him in the square or something.

You and Finnick spend your time doing different things, sometimes. You have been trained in all things with water, with the best of Reed’s knowledge with only Mox to back him up on things. You’ve been tying and retying knots. Throwing spears, and harvesting water plants.

It’s required that Finnick do the same, but he has his own preferences. You see him with his favorite trident all the time, playing around with it. There was only one time you had seen him throw it, and when it had come out of the water, five different fish were speared. You’re not sure about the plants, but he has to know how to cook at least. And he has to know his fair share of knot tying, but you’re not sure what he knows. 

Reed tried to cover every single one that he had heard of, and even went as far as to seek out the elderly in District Four to learn how they do things too. What they remember from the times when they had to fish for the Capitol. And then he would take that information, come home and teach it all to you. You weren’t expected to know all of it, but to absorb most of it.

While Finnick probably didn’t have to deal with that almost every night. You partially know this, because you’ve seen him around with the girls in his class. Finnick looks old for his age, which means that he’s growing into his face. He’s more attractive than all the boys in your grade, at least.

The sponsors will love him, and he has to know that somewhat.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“At the training, and stuff like that.” So, he means besides the arena.

“I don’t see why not.” you tell him, stopping in front of your room, your fingers find the ring and you fidget with it slightly, not used to the feeling on your finger, “Wake me for supper?”

He nods, giving you a big smile before he goes to his own room. You walk inside, listening as the doors shut behind you. The second that it’s gone, you head for the bathroom, sliding off the ring and placing it somewhere safe on the counter. Just for an extra measure, you pull up the tab that blocks water, so it doesn’t fall in and go down the drain.

You peel off your clothes, before hurrying inside of the shower that you started. You pull out your hair, letting the warm water wash over it. And while you’re standing there, you realize just how weak you feel from the entire thing. You can’t help but to sink into a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest as you stare off at the wall for a while.

It must have been an hour you sat in there, just thinking about what it’s going to be like for the next couple of days. You’re not going to be thrown in just like that, you’re going to have to be presentable to the Capitol. You’re going to have to earn sponsors, and look like you have a chance at winning the games. You’re going to be forced to grit your teeth some more and smile. Tough it out until you’re finally inside of the arena.

You brush your hair carefully again, pulling it out of your face again. You look over the drawers carefully, and then you decide that a tank top and shorts will do you good. You want to feel comfortable here, for as long as possible. You want to hold on to what you would be doing at home. And then you grab the ring, putting it back on your finger.

Finnick comes to knock on your door, telling you that it’s time to eat. This is when you see he’s changed into something more comfortable too. He’s doing the same thing you are, because both of you are kids. You shouldn’t be thrown into the games, because you guys are so young. People under the age of sixteen hardly win.

Twelve and thirteen are the death years. If you get picked at those ages, you’re dead, there’s nothing you can do. Your body is so small, and you have no clue what to do still. They don’t have those years under their belt, they’re still struggling with the complicated knots.

Fourteen it gets better, but only by a little bit. No one has won at the age of fourteen, the youngest it gets is fifteen, and that year was a miracle. You weren’t able to see it, but Reed had explained it to you, that it was a particularly hard game. But the boy had won by waiting it out, and found a way to make the food and water last long. He killed only one person that year, and it was the girl that would have won

Sixteen and up, they have the best chances. They’re even better if they’re careers, which makes them deadly. If you run into anyone above the age of sixteen you can consider yourself dead, because they’ll overpower you so easily. The only chance you’ll have, is if there’s distance between the both of you and you have some sort of long-range weapon.

In the diner cart, sits Elysia and Mags. Mags watches as the both of you come into the room. Elysia looks over you guys with a squint, like she can’t believe that you’re dressed like that, and then she smoothes over, relaxing her face. Probably afraid of suddenly getting wrinkles. 

The second you two have sat down, the food arrives. And it starts off slow, and all that Elysia has to tell you, is that more will keep coming, so eat slow and don’t take too much. 

You follow just that, taking in all the different flavors, and how it’s so much more different than fish and bread every single night. With the occasion fish stew if the neighbor next door invited you over for dinner if you had brought her family a lot of fish that afternoon. Those nights, you’d think of them as feasts, because you would bring over more food to share and go around if you had it to spare. Eat like kings and queens, even if it was once a month.

After a certain amount of time, Finnick is tired of the silence, “Mags, when will you begin to mentor us?”

Your eyes drag across the table, landing on her. She struggles for a moment, and then she speaks. But the words are garbled, and it takes you a second to decipher them. 

“Tomorrow morning.” 

Finnick seems to understand as well as you have, so he nods and you guys go back to eating. Somewhere along the way, your stomach starts to feel upset, but you keep eating anyway. The more food you eat, the more pounds you’ll be able to tack on. More weight you’ll have on the others that will be thrown in the arena.

Once you’re done eating, Elysia brings you to the couch to watch the recap of the games. As much as you don’t want to watch all the children get reaped—and the rich kids volunteer—you know it’ll help you in the end. Let you size up the other tributes without being there in person. When you do finally get the chance tomorrow or the day after, you’ll see how tall they are and just how screwed you may be.

The girl that’s volunteered has clearly been training for a while. You watch as the muscles in her arms tense, and then release like she’s purposely flexing to show off her strength. She’s taller, and because of how strong she is, it’s made her look bigger. However, that doesn’t stop her from being pretty. You mark her in your mind immediately, Trink is her name, she’s from District One. 

With her is a boy that isn’t as impressive, most boys who volunteer are normally tall and muscular, so nothing stands out about him. For girls, it’s just not the same. They’ve been training for just as long, but most of the time they look harmless. It isn’t until they’re thrown into the games, when they show off their true nature.

The boy’s name is Lennox, and he’s definitely taller than you, because he easily towers over the girl next to him. If you’re taking guesses on ages, then the girl is sixteen and he’s the same age or seventeen. He looks older, but then again, so does Finnick and he’s fourteen.

You look at Finnick to see how he’s accessing this entire thing too. He’s thinking, staring at the screen with a straight face, and then he laughs. When he turns to look to you, he shakes his head, “Careers.”

He says the word as if it explains what he’s laughing about, and you turn to see just in time that Trink and Lennox are grinning at each other. Arms locked around the other, as they turn to their district to wave. Clearly they’re proud of where they’ll be coming from.

Another district to watch out for is the following, two. Another part of the careers, people that you’ll be expected to team up with to hunt and kill.

The girl is taller than the boy this time, and she holds her chin high. There’s this sickening grin on her face as she bares her chest out for everyone to see. She wants them to know that she’s just as proud. Her name is Eytelle, probably stolen from one of the Capitol people. Since two is one of the favored ones as well. 

The boy looks strong though, his name is Allio. In his hand he holds a stick that he’ll turn over in his hand every now and then. You have to focus to see what he’s doing exactly, but when you catch the glint of the silver, you realize it’s not a stick. He’s playing with a knife.

“Are we allowed…?” you don’t finish the question, but Elysia picks up.

“No.” she says gruffly, shaking her head, “It’s supposed to be for safety. What is he thinking?”

You’re not sure if she’s referring to the male Capitol representative, or Allio. Who’s still playing with that knife, and you watch as it gets faster in his hand. Like it’s building up a climax, and then it cuts.

Three is technology, and it looks like the program hurries that up a little bit. Certain districts are going to be expected to do better, this will be one of them. They make the technology, they’ll know how to build weapons. They should do exceedingly well, and if the careers think any one of them have potential, they’ll be called on.

Next, it flips to your district, and this is when it slows down again. You watch as Elysia perks up, and Finnick leans forward, suddenly entranced by the sight. Again, you relive the moment when Elysia calls your name, and you watch as a couple of seconds pass, before you’re heading down the aisle.

What felt like an eternity to you, was only a few seconds for them. You thought that you had frozen to your spot while you were debating the chances of you running. To them, they thought that it was you realizing it was your name that was called or something. You watch as the emotion is cleared from your face the second that you begin walking and realize that there’s cameras.

On that stage you felt so small, but on the camera, you can clearly see that it’s not too bad. You look better than what you thought you would. Four is also part of the careers, but it’s very shaky when it comes to volunteers--hence why you nor Finnick got one--and they hardly ever team up with the pack as far as you’re concerned.

Four is a rich district, so hardly anyone starves, but you’ve had your own months when you were struggling to get used to the fact that it was only you and your brothers that were capable of gathering food. Eventually, you got very good at it again, and there’s always food stocked in the fridge. But you’ve felt starvation. Despite all that, you look healthy and well-fed. There’s no doubt that a few districts are going to be jealous of that fact, especially in the poorer parts.

There’s not much you know, you’re not allowed to talk to neighboring districts at all. But you do know that most live in poverty. And things like starvation aren’t so uncommon.

You hadn’t noticed this before, but your hands somehow found their way behind you, in the time that you had found where you needed to stand, and when Elysia went to call the boys name. Subconsciously, you were also baring your chest, almost like you were proud.

You laugh when you watch Finnick walk down the walkway again. He looks to you, to see what’s funny, “Do you always walk like that?”

Elysia must have lost focus somewhere along the way, because she blinks quickly and focuses her eyes again. Then she also laughs, “You’re almost strutting.”

He grins, face turning a little red as he shakes his head, “Does it look tough enough?”

“You look ridiculous.” but he makes up for it when he stands at the stage right next to you. That’s when the two of you look like real competitors, with you standing tall, trying to make yourself look capable. And Finnick, not even trying and he still looks intimidating.

The rest pass like a blur. District Five fuels the power, so they’re only a little favored when it comes to things. They’re healthy looking too. District Six is transportation, no one stands out. Seven is lumber, which is when you start focusing again. When you see how big the two tributes are again. You mark them off too, Cass--the girl--and Mac.

Eight is textiles, nothing interesting. Nine is grain, which means that the poor districts are starting. Ten is livestock, eleven is agriculture, and twelve is mining coal. None of them had sprouted any interest in your mind, they don’t look threatening to you. In particular, twelve is the worst. With wobbly knees and pale faces, they look like they’re going to pass out at any minute.

And then just like that Elysia snaps the tv off, and you’re left sitting there in silence. She waits for a moment, before jumping up, “I suggest you two go off to bed, tomorrow will be very important.” 

You and Finnick watch as she leaves the room, and right on cue, you two turn towards each other.

“The boy and girl from one are definitely problems,” you begin, and he nods, agreeing, “The girl is bigger than usual, which means that she’ll pose a bigger challenge.”

“They should be the first to go if we can make it possible.”

But how would that be? They’re one person of course, but they’re as good as three. They make up for the districts with people that don’t know what they’re doing, that get killed in the very beginning. In order to get them off, that would mean that a lot of people would have to band together.

“Are you suggesting we gather other tributes?” you ask, almost baffled by the idea. The more people, the more tension and fear that someone will betray the other.

“No, not too many.” he says, straightening his back, “Enough to help.”

He must see potential in the districts you saw nothing in, “We’ll have a better chance at looking them over later.”

He nods, he knows this already, “One, two and five.” 

“Maybe three,” you get up from where you’re sitting, feeling the weight of today suddenly pressuring your shoulders.

“Maybe three,” he repeats, standing up too, “Off to bed so soon?”

You roll your eyes a little bit, “Yeah, I’m tired. Aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t feel more awake.”

-- CHAPTER THREE --

The morning comes before you’re ready for it. You drag your feet when it comes to taking a quick shower, and you throw on the nearest outfit that makes sense. It won’t really matter once you’re inside of the Capitol. You’ll be torn to pieces and then rebuilt at first chance.

You shouldn’t be too far off now. In fact, you probably should have made it there overnight, District Four is one of the closest districts to the Capitol. The only thing between you and them is District One. That one isn’t very surprising, they should be in the Capitol for a day now. The train goes so quickly, there wouldn’t be a reason to keep them from going.

You’ll probably barely have enough time to eat breakfast before you’re being shoveled off the train. 

With that thought, you place the ring back onto your finger as you head out to the dining car, or room. Once you make it there, you see that you’re not the last. Finnick and Mags are still nowhere to be seen. However, Elysia sits at the table, a black coffee in hand as she looks over something in her hand. She pays you no attention when you sit at the table.

Immediately, you’re served food. Most of it you recognize because of the special days the district gets to eat well on. Not like you don’t get to eat things like this all the time, but the special foods like pancakes are something you haven’t seen in a while. You carefully eat like you did yesterday, trying not to overdo it, but also get a good amount of food in you.

Finnick comes in not too long after, taking his seat as he also starts to eat. However, he’s basically inhaling it, as if he hasn’t eaten in days. You’re impressed for a while, until he starts to turn a little green. Only then do you begin laughing at him, and he offers you a sheepish smile.

“Hungry?” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve been up for hours waiting to eat.” he tells you.

So he didn’t sleep last night, and that’s going to show. It took you a couple hours of tossing and turning, trying desperately to just get a little bit of time. Eventually, your body had decided that it might as well. You’re not in any danger just yet, you’re on a train to where the danger will start, but until then you’ll be fine. 

“You need your sleep,” Elysia beats you to it, “But your stylists will cover it for now.”

Finnick offers her a small glance, and then he turns to you as if he’s disinterested with everything she has to say. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s not staring at you exactly, it’s past you. You turn to look over your shoulder to see that Mags is coming in now. She’s slow, and she looks like she’s struggling even with the cane she’s been provided with.

The peacekeepers take a step to help her, but you jump up before they have the chance. The mere thought of them touching her is disgusting to you. They work for the Capitol. They’re hugely ignorant and arrogant. They stand by and let all of this happen, hell, they’re coming from the districts around you.

Mags gives you a smile of appreciation, and Finnick helps out a little bit too when he sees how much trouble it is. With the help of you both, she gets seated and begins to eat. What you didn’t see before, is that she has a pad of paper, which she’s using one hand to write with, and the other to eat. 

Her neat handwriting covers the paper, in a small paragraph. She turns the paper to you, and you tilt your head to read it. For a second, your mind blanks because it believes you’ve never read cursive before, but then it slowly comes back to you. You’re mouthing the words, picking up the paper as you take your time to hand it off to Finnick.

Lesson 1: Sponsors. Looking presentable for the Capitol people will be your greatest chance at survival. In order to do that, you’ll have to play up the act a little bit. Who are you?

It’s a simple question, but you find yourself struggling to answer. When you pass the paper back to her, she writes down one word beside it.

Personality?

Oh.

“What does it say?” Finnick asks, tilting his head, but he can’t see it anyway, he’s on the other end of the table.

“Personality.” you say for him, looking to Mags, “You mean like clever, smart…?”

She nods a little, and you look to the window for a moment, thinking. Allowing Finnick to get the chance to answer before you. What is your personality?

“Well, we have the same personality for the most part.” Finnick starts to answer for the both of you, “Smart with the basic district stuff, strong.”

“Deadly.” you add, and Mags raises her eyebrows a little bit, so you elaborate, “I throw spears, and I’ve seen Finnick with a trident.”

Finnick flushes for a second, but it clears out, “The trident is on special occasions. Mostly spears.”

You sit in silence, she writes, “What else?” you shake your head for a second, trying to come up with the adjectives, and then it comes back to you, “I’m considerate and kind. I have well manners.”

Mags writes all of this down, and you can see the word ‘humble’, and then she writes down damsel.

For a second, you’re not sure what you think of it, but you see it soon enough. Playing the innocent, damsel role and having everyone underestimate you. If they overlook you, then that gives you a better chance at winning.

“I can’t play that up,” you tell her, because you remember seeing yourself on the screen again, how you stood strong, “The reaping--”

Everyone looks like that, she writes, No one wants to be targeted.

And she’s right. All those people you had seen last night were trying to look bigger than they were. Except for the kids, when their shoulders would hunch in on themselves, trying to disappear. As much as possible, you’ll all try to look strong to be picked for an alliance. Those who aren’t picked are left to suffer.

This will throw Finnick’s entire plan off course. If you play damsel, then that means you have to downplay all your skills. Make it look like you’re incapable of winning. No sponsors, no alliance. The only person that’ll be able to save you is Mags and yourself. Maybe your brothers back home will somehow afford to send something your way.

You’ll have to purposely score low in training, to really lower the expectations. Mags might even go as far to tell your stylists not to do too well on yours and Finnick’s matching outfits.

Mags writes again while you’re thinking, and you read it so you can look to Finnick, “She wants to know about you.”

Finnick looks like he’s been waiting for his turn, “Strong, tall. Almost all the girls at school love me, so attractive--”

As he’s listing what he’s made of, you see one word for him. Cunning. He’s going to be playing up the tough arrogant act. He’ll be purposely showing off, he’ll be the one that gets all the sponsors. The alliance he proposed will be his, the careers will be tripping over their feet to get him in their pack. 

Suddenly, you can’t help but to feel a little jealous, and detached.

Finnick is the boy, he’s going to be expected to win. But you have the age advantage, so they’ll also be looking to you to win. At least for some people, for others it doesn’t matter at all. Back home, they’ll be hoping that only one of you comes back in a casket.

“What’s my word?”

“Cunning,” you tell him quietly, invested in your food again. Your stomach has managed to settle, so you try to stuff it again, the more the better. You’re not sure when you’ll be able to eat after this.

The train car blacks out for a couple of seconds, and then light fills it again. Elysia looks over her shoulder, and then her face lights up as she hops up from her seat, “Home sweet home.”

You and Finnick move to the window, looking out it for a moment. Bright lights fill the car, blinding you. When you’ve blinked away the lights, you can see just how many Capitol people have come to the station to greet you two.

A sigh leaves you and for a moment you want to move away. And then, you realize that if you’re going for that damsel type, you have to look clueless. Like you’re always in a daze or something. So, you begin to wave the exact same moment Finnick does. And even through the thick walls of the train car, you can hear the roaring of their cheers.

--

Your stylist’s assistants are very nice, and they try to be as gentle as possible when it comes to what they have to do. For a minute they just stood and stared almost as if they had no clue on how to start with you. And then, they went straight to work. Removing every inch of hair from your body, besides what’s on your head. 

Your hair is now silky smooth, and smells of strawberries. Your body is sore, but soft from how many bathes they’ve made you soak in. Your nails have been cleaned, filed and they have a very thin layer of nail polish on them. Only a little bit, because they were afraid that your main stylist would want to change that later.

Your eyebrows have been plucked, leaving you sculpted. They’ve applied some sort of teeth whitener, trying to make it scary white like theirs. A couple of times they’ve told you to straighten your back to stand tall. Only then did you realize that they were taking measurements, and after that you stood very still to allow the to. 

“I think we’re all done now.” Cleo says, taking a step back to access you one last time, “Laurel is going to love you.”

She says nothing else, grabbing onto the arm of the girl that she was working with. You hadn’t heard much from her, she mostly listened as Cleo babbled on. With the occasion prompt to keep her talking. It’s almost as if she didn’t want to do any of it herself.

You rock on the table, back and forth as you stare at the wall ahead. Trying to imagine yourself winning the games. All that it’ll take to get to that point too. You find yourself regretting how you described yourself, even if you were being honest.

The door opens, revealing a very tall woman. Her hair is held back by a simple hairband, trying to keep it from her face, you’re guessing. It’s the same thing you do when you know it’ll be an irritating day. However, with these people it’s never irritating, they live in luxury. They’re all brightly colored and rich and they never have to worry about going hungry, ever.

She wears a white shirt, and a black blazer. Her pants are ironed nearly, and she has a pair of black heels on. The second she steps into the room, she slips them off though, only lowering her height just a little bit. She’s naturally tall it seems, and she seems proud of it. Not afraid to get bigger.

“I’m Laurel.” she introduces herself, “(Y/n), right?”

She has to know that it’s you, “Yeah.”

“Stand up for me?” she asks, and you slip off the table, standing in front of her. She walks around you, looking at your body, taking all of it into consideration. Laurel will stare for a moment, and then she’ll move your hair. She checks your nails to see that they’re very neat, and she seems pleased with that, “Take your robe.”

You reach over for it, slipping it on and then folding your arms over your chest anyway. You almost want to hunch in on yourself like you saw the kids doing at the reaping. But then, you remove your arms and make yourself stand a bit taller. Reminding yourself that you need to have more worth, carry that energy until it’s not carrying anymore. Until it is you.

“Mags tells me that you’re going for a more subtle look.” Laurel sits down on a nice couch, you make sure to tuck the robe beneath you as you sit, “Humble?”

You nod lightly, “I think she’s going for an underestimated look.”

“And do you feel the same?”

You dodge the question a little bit, “Finnick is going for cunning, isn’t he? I want to be presented the same way he does, but I wouldn’t mind if we did something along the lines of humble.”

She takes this into consideration, nodding lightly, “How would you feel about a two-piece? Almost like a bathing suit?”

You really hope you don’t end up in some skin-showing outfit, “Sure.”

She nods to this, looking pleased, “Blue, definitely blue.”

It’s only a couple of hours later, when you’re standing side-by-side with Finnick. He looks like he’s more in a bathing suit than you do. They’ve completely taken his shirt, and just put on a tunic almost, for his lower half. His designer has gotten him covered with vines, some drawn on and some of them real. It’s supposed to look like he’s came out of the water, like he’s been there for a while.

As a joke, you suggested dying him a blue-green because of how copper fades. His stylist considered it for a moment, even turning to Laurel to ask if it were possible to do it in an hour. But then Finnick piped up that he did not want to be a shade of green, and glared at you. It was all in good fun and he knows that. Didn’t stop him from jabbing you in your ribs when he had the chance.

You and Finnick are wearing nearly the same pair of leather sandals. Yours only goes up to your ankles, as his surrounds his calves, stopping just a little bit below the knee. He has that tunic around his waist, which wrinkles in all the right places, and it’s pinned to keep from falling.

Laurel had already built off of the bathing suit idea, deciding that you were worth more than just a pair of half-naked teenagers. She kept the aspect, but added a couple of things to it. On your upper body, your hair is curled to look more natural, going for the beachy-type but not exact. Macara, blue eyeshadow, the works go on your face. They’d outdone themselves with the white eyeliner, purposely tying to give you a goddess aspect, you guess?

You definitely know they were going Roman, even if it’s just a little bit.

They secured a bracelet around your upper arm, it’s a couple of waves. On your upper half of your body, you have a bra on almost. But the straps are thick, and the padding pushes it all up. It’s tight around the ripbs, keeping it from lifting off your chest, as they tried to show off some curves. It ends somewhere in the middle of your ribs.

And as for your waist, she decided for a high-waisted short bottom. Attached to it is a train almost. The flaps are attached to your left hip, giving it a sort-of leg slit. But the fabric is see-through, so it’s not much. The entire color scheme is a muted sea green. On your wrists are silver bracelets, on your neck is a lone shell necklace. Laurel had successfully acquired your ring, adding it to the outfit, even if the people from the stands won’t be able to see it exactly.

Laurel and Finnick’s stylist have you and Finnick walk around. Making small adjustments to everything so it flows better. In no time, you’re told to get onto your chariot with the blonde horses. Before you guys take off, Laurel makes one very last minute change.

She makes you wrap your arms around Finnick’s left one. Your right arm goes under, closest to his body. That one will stay permanently, and your left arm goes over, which will be the one you wave with and such.

“This is so exciting,” Finnick chirps, a smile already coming over his face, and then, “Oh!”

He reaches into a pocket that you didn’t know he had, and he pulls out a small sugar cube. You laugh, taking it with your left hand as you turn it over for a second. When you look over, the both of you share a look, before popping the sugar in your mouths at the same time. 

The sweet taste takes over your tongue immediately, and you can’t help but grin. As you turn to look off to the ground, you watch as the audience turns to see the newcomers coming in.

The cheering gets louder, and then there’s pointing. You smile with your teeth, giving a wave, while also trying to think of embarrassing things. It takes a moment, but it all comes rushing back, and you find your face heating up very quickly.

“She’s blushing!” one of them yells, there’s a series of screams and ‘awing’ that follow after, and Finnick laughs.

“You play the act well.”

“For you it’s not even an act.” you say through clenched teeth, making sure the smile reaches your eyes. 

Every single time you hear someone yell your name, you turn to look in that direction. If you’re going to get sponsors, you’ll want them to each every single bit of this shit up. You make surprised faces, cover your mouth, cower into Finnick and let him pretend to coax you out. The cheering only gets louder, until their attention is turned back to the newcomers.

When the chariot stops, you feel your face cooling considerably, and you sigh in relief, because it’s hard to keep thinking of embarrassing things. Once you bring up the effect again, it’s almost as if it’s useless. All those memories are so faded, that it’s hard to even think of them anymore. You hardly ever make bad mistakes like that.

You wait patiently as Snow makes his appearance and says his piece about everything. The anthem plays, you guys show up as you watch the flag. And then, there’s one final lap around the little circle, before you guys have vanished inside of the building.

There, Laurel and the other stylist are waiting for you. Laurel nods at you approvingly, probably glad that you still held on even though it wasn’t really necessary anymore. You slide off of the chariot with Finnick, stretching your arm. You cross them back over your chest, as you look around.

Soon enough, your prep teams are slowly distancing themselves, standing off to the side. Which offers a perfect opportunity for the others to see, measure you and Finnick up. You do the same, because the only other times you’ll see them is for training, and then later for the interviews. These moments where you over or underestimate them are crucial.

District one has a clear eye on you and Finnick.

“Trink and Lennox are staring.” You tell Finnick, trying not to look over, but he looks them dead on, almost like he doesn’t care.

He waves for a second, beckoning them over. You’re about to tell him that it’s a really bad idea, but they start their way over. So, you place the mask back on, and take a step back, allowing Finnick to do whatever it is he thought he wanted to do.

“Finnick,” He introduces himself, offering his hand.

Lennox looks to Trink for a moment, almost impressed as he takes Finnick’s hand, shaking it a couple of times, “Lennox.”

Of course, you know their names already, so it seems a little useless to introduce yourselves. But then it dawns on you, that they probably don’t know your names.

You make a feeble attempt to do the same, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Oh, we know.” Trink’s smile transforms into a smirk, “Gallows, huh? Like getting hung from the gallows…”

You hate her already.

You laugh lightly, trying to bring the smile to your eyes again, “I guess! I never made that connection before! It’s only fitting now that I’m in the games, huh? Do you think I have a chance?”

What if you play damsel until it comes to the private session with the gamemakers. What if you show off your skills then, score high, and then see what happens to the tributes around you. See if their sudden interest sparks and they want you on their side after all.

You wonder how Reed would feel about you teaming up with the careers. If he would be telling you to steer away from them, because they’re hostile, and vile and sometimes a little messed up in the head from all that training at a young age. It makes them want to volunteer, no sane person could truly want that unless they’ve been brainwashed.

Trink shares a look with Lennox for a second, and then behind her you see that the crowd is about to have two more people added to it, as District Two comes over here. You slump your shoulders slightly, tilting your head at the newcomers. Eytelle and Allio, the tall girl and the boy who spun the knife in his hand during the reaping.

“Are these four?” Allio asks, you take the guess now that he’s going to be the chattier one.

Eytelle is… the only comparison you can make with her, is that she’s shorter than Laurel, but not by much. Her parents must be giants, because if she’s only sixteen or so she’ll keep growing for a while. The height will give her an advantage when it comes to running, but she’ll have trouble trying to hide so easily.

“Clearly.” Trink mutters, looking over you a little more, “So what’s your skills?”

“That’s for us to know and for you to find out.” Finnick answers for both of you, “We don’t give shit away so easily. What are we getting in return?”

Trink measures this, but Allio speaks first, “Maybe a friendship if you play your cards right.”

A smile spreads over your face, as you try to look excited, “Wow! An alliance, that’ll be helpful!” 

Lennox looks pleased at the suggestion, “Only if you want.”

Finnick offers you a glance, and you bob your head, trying to urge him to agree but not look desperate. This is what he wanted after all, and if you careers band together, then there’s no doubt that all of you will get a good portion of the population inside of the arena down before you know it.

You’re already forming a plan in your head. Team up with the careers, get to know all of their skills that they’ll show off inside of the training center. There, you will memorize everything, while also learning new skills. Then, when it comes to the arena, you’ll plot their murders very carefully. You’ll pick them off very carefully, space them so it doesn’t look like your fault.

But this would all work so much better if only one of you were in the pack. Finnick lures them to you, you kill them, injure him a little bit, and send him back to get the others riled up.

It’s not a bad plan, you’ll just have to work out the kinks, and present this to Finnick.

He is your accomplice.

-- CHAPTER FOUR --

This morning, Elysia had come to your room to wake you up. For a second, you thought she was doing it so that you’d be early to the table like you normally are. But she was kind enough to inform you that you had slept in past what she wanted already. Mags has been the only reason you’ve been allowed to stay in bed for so long.

As you got ready, you were a little confused on how you’d managed to sleep for so long. You're normally one of the people first awake, especially here. Once your body decides that it has enough energy to run off of, it sort of just wakes you up. You’ve been sleeping soundly every single night, as far as you know. So the exhaustion is coming out of nowhere.

It wasn’t until you had brought it up to them, where Finnick had informed you that you hadn’t slept as soundly as you thought. After you had eaten dinner last night, you’d stayed awake a little while to bring up the plan to Finnick, to get his opinion about luring them to their deaths. He seemed to like it, and then you went off to sleep in your own room.

He says that it must have been a couple of hours before the screaming had started. The first to the room was Mags, but she wasn’t able to get you up, since speaking is difficult for her. Instead, Finnick had to shake you awake, coaxing you out of whatever nightmare you had been trapped in. 

You don’t remember any of it, it’s impossible for you to recall what happened. Elysia says that you must have been asleep still, but Finnick and Mags says you were coherent. You could hear them, and you listened to them try to calm you down from hyperventilating. Once you were in a good enough state, Mags went back to bed, and Finnick stayed a little while.

He just wanted to make sure that you would go back to sleep, but it had taken a while for you to calm down enough to get your heart to stop producing the adrenaline. Finnick tried to sit in the silence, but he wanted to know what the nightmare was about. What had gotten you to the point of screaming and hyperventilating.

You can’t remember it now, even though you’re awake and most of the time can relive the dream a little bit. It was apparently about you drowning, and that was all that you’d tell him. There had to be more though, because you’re not afraid of the water, you live in District Four. To be afraid of drowning would be so fucking ridiculous.

You have a feeling that it was about you taking your father's place in the accident, again. It’s a common nightmare you have. You’ll be on the boat with your brothers, and everything will be going good. But the boat will rock when one of you try messing with the other. Mox gets knocked off, you scramble to save him only to fall off the side. In the water, he’s nowhere to be seen. And then Reed will turn on the boat, leaving you in the middle of the water. The water only gets colder the more time goes on, and your joints will freeze in place. Swimming back to shore is impossible and you die out there, every single time.

You didn’t bother to explain all of that to Finnick, because you’re not looking for pity, it’s no point for him to know your life story. Instead you nodded along and went back to eating, because you then knew why you had been so exhausted. All it takes is one nightmare and a couple of shots of adrenaline to keep you going for a long ass time apparently.

Mags then transitioned into the training that you’re actually in right now. She pulled out her paper and pen and asked if you guys would want to train together. You told her that you’d already formed an alliance with him, so it would be pointless to hide anything. Finnick agreed, and then Mags went on to explain to hide most of your skills.

Just as you predicted anyway. She had wanted you guys to keep it low on the profile, especially you. Mainly she wants you to play dumb and go around with the stations, fumble with most of the things you do but take your time with learning them. She also knows of the career pack proposal, so she reminds you to keep friendly with them too, if that’s going to be your goal.

Of course, she doesn’t want you guys to get too attached or close. Don’t trust them because the chances of them turning on you at first chance is a little too easy. It will only be a matter of time in the arena before the tension snaps at they make a jump to kill any of you. You already know this. If you go through with the plan, then that means that they're going to be suspicious of everyone in the pack anyway. 

Finnick is supposed to be good at everything inside of the training center. But as you watch him circle and go around the stations with Allio and Lennox, you can’t help but to think he looks like an idiot. Allio is more skilled in combat than you guys are, he can throw just about anything a good distance. Lennox seems to be the same.

You’ve watched as they make him throw spears, knives, axes, swords, just to see how good he is at it. They’re looking impressed, but you’re starting to see through Finnick’s facade. He keeps making a wince face each time he thinks he’s thrown it too terribly, his confident mask is falling too easily.

“Wow, look at her.” Trink says, you look up from the fire that you’re trying to start to see that they’re staring dead straight at the girl from District Eleven. You squint for a second to see what she’s doing, and then you smile.

“Thyme, right?” Eytelle asks, her arms are crossed over her chest, and she hunches over like she’s trying to make herself look like you’re all in the same height range, “She’s showing off.”

“Aren’t we all?” you ask, turning back to the fire, getting it started this time. Trink turns over, and you clap quickly, the smile turning to a grin as you look to the other two girls, like a proud kid, “I did it!”

“Took you a while.” Eytelle mutters, “What are you actually skilled at?”

“Besides fires, and knot tying.” Trink adds.

You have to show off at least one skill to get these people interested, “I can show up Finnick with the throwing.”

Trink perks up, “Show us.”

You push yourself up from your knees, starting your way to where the boys are. On the way, you make eye contact with Thyme. She has dark hair, brown-black it looks like. She’s tan, fairly tall, green eyes. She’s got to be the same age as you, because she looks young.

“I hear that District Eleven and Twelve have the skilled hunters--or at least they know what berries and leaves are safe to eat.” you tell them, “Thyme will be very useful.”

Eytelle scoffs, “Who says we can’t hunt actual food? Like meat?”

“What happens when there’s a storm, when all the fish and forest animals are out of the question? Berries, leaves, bark and all of that will save your lives instead. Turning someone like her down simply because she comes from a poor district is…. Stupid.” you tell them, and then you stalk off to join the guys for real.

“Hey Finnick!” he turns while he’s about to throw a knife, Allio and Lennox give you a quick look up and down. You haven’t really talked to them this entire time. Over your shoulder, you can see Eytelle approaching Thyme, while Trink bounces over.

“Well, go ahead.”

You hold out your hand for the knife that Finnick is holding. He gives you a warning look almost, like you don’t know what you’re doing, before handing it over. You give him a cheeky smile, “Watch and learn.”

You flip the knife around to hold it by the blade. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly let it out because you can’t fuck this up. And then, you draw your arm back, before throwing the knife forward with all the strength possible.

The knife covers the twenty feet in less than three seconds, hitting the dummy square in the head. You tilt your head slightly, “It’s a little off center.”

“Off center? You hit that thing….” Allio trails off, and you turn around to see Finnick with a smirk on his face.

Thyme is standing with Eytelle, and she claps a little bit for you, “Can you teach me to throw like that?”

“Sure!” you turn to look at the others, letting Trink narrow her eyes on you. She might be seeing through the act a little bit, “It’s the one thing I’m good at, I’ve had so much time to learn in District Four. I’ll teach Finnick too if you guys wanna go off by yourselves.”

They agree, heading off to some sort of other place they can show off at. Once they’ve gotten out of earshot, the smile on your face drops and you mock them for a second, grabbing the nearest knife. You throw it, and it hits the chest this time, “Thinking I can understand them just because--god are they annoying.”

Finnick snorts, before turning to look at Thyme, “Finnick, this is (Y/n).”

“I’ve heard.” She chirps happily, picking up one of the knives before turning to you, “When do we get started?”

You spend the next hour or so showing your new friend how to throw. Finnick isn’t so bad, it’s just the doubt that gets him. You tell them both that the less confidence they have in the throw, the worse it’ll turn out. Plus, throwing the knife is better than nothing in most situations anyway. If you have more tucked away, then it won’t hurt.

If the person is within your range, then the best you can do is at least try. It could turn out really well and you end up nailing them like you should. Or it could be horrible, land somewhere close to them. But you could call that a warning and say you did it on purpose later on.

Thyme turns out to be really nice, and she explains how Eytelle approached her. This is when you inform her that it was your idea, no matter what Eytelle had told her. To have her with you guys could put her in danger, but you’re all going to die anyway. She’s an outlying district, the chances of her winning is already slim. You basically just gave her a chance.

She’s already picked up on your act the second that the others come back around to check up on you. This is when Finnick lets them know that you’re really skilled at it, despite failing in all the other stations you’d managed to hit while walking around with them. Except for the obvious ones with knot tying, starting the fire and all of that. 

Lennox jokingly asks what rock you’ve been living under for these past years, as if he can’t believe that you have no clue what you’re doing at all. But you just offer him a smile and shrug, saying that you don’t really have time for other things like that. You muse that if it weren’t for the fact that they’re agreeing for an alliance that you’d probably die in there alone.

They seem satisfied with that, and even though you hadn’t thanked them by any means, they say ‘you’re welcome’ and move on. This is when you and Finnick hang back. 

Soon, you get bored of training, and you’re about to wave Thyme off, before she asks if she’s really included in the alliance. You tell her that it looks like it, and they wouldn’t have let her tag around, much less offered if they were kidding. She looks pretty satisfied, and you tell her to make friends with the others too. If this this fails then she’ll want an escape plan.

After that you leave the training center with Finnick, take the elevator up to your district floor, and go in to see that Laurel is showing off designs to Mags. 

“Oops, are we walking in on something?” you ask, and Laurel looks over with a smile, “Not at all, welcome back.”

“Dinner will be served in an hour.” Elysia mutters, looking over from the tv.

“She’s telling us that we think and should probably shower.” Finnick whispers to you, Mags hears this and laughs.

She nods slightly, before shooing the both of you out the room as soon as Finnick’s stylist shows up behind you guys. It looks like they want to keep your interview outfits a surprise. It makes sense, they’re all about surprises and being prestigious. They think the outfits matter--because they do--but you don’t have that same taste. Neither does Finnick.

Back home you two would probably settle for a shirt and a pair of jeans. The occasion jacket, a nice pair of comfortable boots, and then that would be it. There’s not much to do around four, so there wouldn’t be a reason to dress up besides reaping day. You spend most of your time in a boat or in water.

Which means that you’re not even wearing boots, it would be a pair of sandals. If it’s cold in the morning, then your toes freeze and you just have to deal with it. Either you tuck your feet beneath you or shut up and just be cold. There’s a good possibility that you get thrown overboard by accident or on purpose. Or you’re spearing fish in the shallow, jeans being pulled up to your calves as you wade through the water.

You and Finnick stop outside your doors again, and he leans up against the wall.

“Allio and Lennox are annoying.”

“Stuck up?” you ask, a smile spreading over your face.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t even think that word fits them. They think everyone inside of the arena is going to be easy to kill. That I’m probably going to be the only one who poses a threat.”

Your eyebrows raise, “They’re buying my act?”

“They don’t even think it’s an act. They think that you’re geniunely stupid and you’re just getting lucky with some of the things you know.”

That’s fair, you’re trying to play up the dumb damsel thing. You have to have one skill that will impress the gamemakers, and that will be just about it. If they keep you around for your skill to kill people, then that’ll be good enough. As long as you’re around.

“That’s good.”

“Anything about the other two? Trinket and Eyeball?” he purposely gets their names wrong.

You snort, “They’re buying it as good as the other two. I managed to convince them to invite Thyme, which I think will turn out handy.”

“How did you do that anyway?”

“Simply told them that if we run low on food and can’t find any animals, then berries and leaves is gonna be all that we have. So, she’ll be our best bet.”

He’s impressed, “Smart.”

“Yeah, I know. Any of the others show potential?”

“The boy from three, he’s been making things in the corner. Saw him make a knife from a stick, some vine and a rock.” Finnick tells you.

So he’ll definitely be dangerous. He’ll know how to make his own weapons from absolutely nothing. You wonder what else he knows how to make. If he can make knives, then there’s a possibility for a bow, spears, axes. Just depends on what setting you’re all going to be placed in.

“The others seem pretty reserved, or they’re not showing off what they can do.” Finnick yawns.

“Finally tired?” you tease.

“After sitting with you all night? Hell yeah I am.” he stretches, and then relaxes, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” you wave him off, before going to your room.

You sit on the floor mainly, staring out the window, watching as the people below celebrate the games already. All you can think about is your family back home, and how they’re all holding up. You hope that Reed isn’t being too hard on Mox. You’re hoping that Mox hasn’t been crying this entire time, because there’s nothing to be worried about. You wonder if Alyssum notices that you’re gone.

You have a greater chance now. With an alliance forming, with learning all the new things that Thyme had taught you when she brought you to her special station. Showed you all the berries and leaves she could afford to before the others had come around again.

It’s almost like she didn’t want to show them, which is really fair. She doesn’t trust them as much, and you don’t either. But it also doesn’t make sense because technically you and Finnick are careers anyway. It could be because of the fact that you’re playing two different personalities, that you’re actually not stupid and just using them. Or it could be from a different reason that you don’t know.

She’s really nice though, and you’re glad that you suggested her. She shows promise, she learns really quickly. It took only a couple of minutes for her to learn to throw properly. It was just her doubt that was holding her back for the rest of the time.

When you disband the careers, you hope that she’ll stick with you. But when it comes down to the end, you don’t want to be the one that kills her. She’s too nice, she even told you a little bit about her family back home.

The more you get to know someone, the less you want to actually kill them, and that’s the painful part. If you were to get to know everyone that’s going to be thrown in, then you’ll feel bad. Except for Trink, Eytelle, Allio and Lennox, though. They volunteered and they’ve been training for this their entire lives.

It’s hard to feel bad for them. They leave everything they have behind just so that they can get the glory of a victor house. Infinite amounts of money, even though they basically already have that, since they’re rich. They just want to have their names be known for the generations to come. Be the ones to train the next pair of tributes that come on the train.

You don’t know how they’d want that at all. All they do is get the pain of watching the tributes die after they fail to do it properly. Then again, career. Volunteering. They almost always win. The works.

This really is going to suck.

--

LACUNA IS THE FIRST VERSION OF BELAMOUR 

//MASTERLIST//

[banannabethchase]

Somebody placed mistletoe all over the arena. It is a tradition, after all.

~

Thank you to @sarahcakes613 for the prompt! This is fun and fluffy and my favorite parts of fanfiction. I wish you a relaxing and soft Sunday, and I hope you enjoy and have restful and meaningful holidays if you celebrate :)

Mini playlist (we're going with some of my favorite weird as hell holiday songs): Mixtape for Christmas - Hey Monday Christmas Past, Present, and Future - Ashlee Simpson All I Want for Christmas Is You - Bowling for Soup Merry Merry Merry Frickin' Christmas - Frickin' A

~

They sneak in at five in the morning, bribing a security guard to let them in. They have devious, hilarious plans in store for the AEW roster. Something that will provide them with blackmail and, maybe, just enough holiday spirit to pick up the energy of the place.

~

Wheeler is somewhere in the hallway of a San Antonio arena, too distracted by the pain in his neck to think straight.

He blinks as best he can, glancing around, trying to focus his gaze. He just has to get to the trainer’s room. He thinks that, maybe, he should have listened to Mox and waited for him.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Wheeler turns around to see Daniel Garcia, standing in the hallway. He’s pretty sure he’s standing still, but he can’t be positive about it. Either way, one of them is swaying back and forth.

“Hi, Danny,” Wheeler says, trying to seem normal. “I’m trying to-to find the trainer’s room. Know where it is?”

Danny looks behind himself, then back at Wheeler, rolling his eyes. “Come with me.”

“That promo you did with Sammy,” Wheeler says, because he can’t remember how to shut his mouth, “he called you a tightass,” Wheeler laughs. He trips over his boot. He only manages not to collapse on the floor because Danny grabs his arm and hauls him back up normal.

“Shut up,” Danny says, shoving him halfway across the hallway. Wheeler stumbles and bumps into the wall, but it’s enough of a jolt to get his head on a little straighter.

“You can’t push an injured guy,” Wheeler says, shooting him a grin.

Danny rolls his eyes, “You’re fine.” He pauses, eyeing Wheeler. “Right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wheeler replies. “Rush got me good.” He winces as he rolls his neck, feeling Danny’s eyes on him the whole time. “He hits hard.”

Danny laughs. “Please.”

“Not as hard as you do,” Wheeler offers. “But hard.”

Danny straightens up, and Wheeler can tell he’s preening, just a little bit. “I mean, my specialty is submissions and his is just, like, wailing on somebody until they crumple. Like you did.” He grins at Wheeler, a little mean.

“Oh, bite me,” Wheeler says.

“Gladly, you little shit,” Danny says. “The trainer’s here.” He pauses in the doorway. And Wheeler notices something.

“Um, am I concussed, or is that mistletoe up there?” He nods upward, the action making his entire body ache.

Danny burns bright pink. Wheeler thinks its cuter than he probably should. “Oh.” He laughs, a little low, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Wheeler makes a decision, and slides in next to Danny in the doorway. “I mean, it’s there, right?”

Danny licks his lips. “I – I guess so.”

“Plus, you told me to bite me in that match, and I haven’t followed up on that, and then I just told you to, so…”

Danny grins. “Oh, that’s how it is?”

Wheeler would respond, but instead, he’s leaning in, lips pressed to Danny’s, and the aching is replaced with something fresher, newer, brighter.

“Quit making out and get checked out!” shouts somebody in the trainer’s room.

“You’re the one who put up the mistletoe!” Danny snaps back. He shoves Wheeler in through the doorway. “This dumbass got lost in the hallway. He probably needs ice.” He leaves his hand on Wheeler’s lower back, though, for just a few moments longer than he has to.

“Talk to you later?” Wheeler asks, and he won’t let himself cringe at the hopefulness in his voice.

Danny nods, though. “Yeah. I’ll text you.”

~

“Hangman, the handsome cowboy,” Adam sings along with the video. He grins at the way the Dark Order used to be, the joy, the comradery. The absolute confusion in his eyes at the idea that these people loved him.

He misses it.

He sings along with the bastardized lyrics, leaning up against the wall of the arena, letting the nostalgia settle over him like a blanket.

“Hey,” comes a quiet voice from behind his screen.

Adam looks up to see Matt Jackson in front of him, with a smile on his face. He hasn’t seen that smile directed toward him in, god, years. “Matt.” His voice is too gentle, too soft, too fond. “Hi.”

“It’s the, uh, season of giving,” Matt says, fidgeting with the end of his hair. “And love or whatever. And I wanted to say, um, I wanted to say I’ve got your back.”

Adam blinks at him. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Matt says. “I mean, Mox is being a big ol’ bitch out there.” He grins, like he’s proud of himself for swearing. “I, uh. When you have the match, I wanted to tell you, I’ll be your second.”

Adam pushes off the wall, walking toward him. He always forgets, until these moments, how much bigger, taller he is than Matt. How much of Matt’s height is ego and attitude. How much smaller he becomes when he lets it go and allows himself to just be Matt. “Really?”

Matt nods, looking up at him, those big brown eyes honest. “Yes.”

Adam feels some of the ice in his heart crumble at that, some of the loneliness melt out of him. “Want to grab lunch?” he thumbs to the door. “Unless, I mean, unless you’ve eaten.”

“No, yeah, sure,” Matt says. “Catering’s got a really good salad bar today.” He lights up. “They have pickled beets!”

“Ew,” Adam says automatically, but he’s lucky. Matt’s face doesn’t fall, his demeanor doesn’t shift back to cold distance. “I hate beets.”

“That’s because you’re boring,” Matt says. He shuffles the two of them into catering, where he pauses. “After you.”

Adam tilts his head back to shake the hair out of his face, when he notices something hanging from the sprinkler. His first thought is it must be a major fire hazard. The next is that it’s mistletoe. He makes a strange, strangled little noise.

“What – oh.” Matt’s followed Adam’s gaze up. “That’s mistletoe.”

“Yep.” Adam looks down at Matt, expecting him to be spooked.

“Well,” Matt says, steadying himself. “Kiss me.”

“What?!”

“It’s a tradition!” Matt exclaims. “Oh, come on, you can’t not know about mistletoe, Hangman.”

“I know what mistletoe is, obviously,” Adam replies, flustered. “I just – I’m surprised you want me to kiss you, is all.”

“You don’t have to,” Matt says, brown eyes looking so miserable that, even if he didn’t want to, Adam would probably kiss him just to make it stop.

But he does want to. He glances around, checking to make sure nobody is watching, then rests his hand on the side of Matt’s neck. Matt looks up at him through his eyelashes. It doesn’t feel fair.

“You gonna kiss me?” Matt asks, voice breathy and soft.

His answer is a gentle press of the lips, something they’ve done once or twice before, and it feels like friendship renewed.

~

“Moxie!” Eddie yells down the hallway. “You got your ass beat by the cowboy again!”

“Get in here,” Mox snaps, grabbing Eddie’s arm and dragging him into his locker room. Eddie’s still grinning, though, and Mox is halfway to throwing him back out in the hallway if he could trust Eddie could shut up for a second.

“Aw, Mox, gonna be like old times?” Eddie crowds into Mox’s space. Mox lets him, getting pressed up against the wall, fingers threaded with Eddie’s.

“Not if you’re gonna be a dick,” Mox says back, and Eddie laughs against his neck, pressing kisses. “Come on, you don’t get to give me a hickey after making fun of me. Quit it.”

Eddie pulls away, eyes sparkling. “What, you don’t think it’s funny?”

“I don’t,” Mox says, but he doesn’t shove Eddie off. “Hangman’s got a chip on his shoulder. That’s not my fault.”

“You knocked him out.”

“Again, glass jaw, not my fault!” Mox throws his hands in the air. “Look, man, why the hell is everybody all mad at me for? Ooh, sweet baby Cowboy got hurt. Mox is a bad, evil man for being good at his job and winning his match.” He slumps back against the wall. “Everybody is a big fuckin’ whiner.”

Eddie studies him. “You had a smoke recently?”

Mox thinks about it. “Uh. No.”

“That’s why you’re being bitchy,” Eddie says, more to himself than to Mox. “Come on. We’re going outside.” He grabs Mox’s arm, and he goes along without much of a fight. Because Eddie’s right – it’s been a while since his last cigarette.

Unfortunately, this day is destined to piss him off.

“Hangman,” Mox says, steeling himself for a fight.

Adam Page rolls his fucking eyes at him. “God damn it, Moxley, can’t I go take a piss without you in my face?”

“You’re the one who can’t keep his hands off me,” Mox says. He puts his hands behind his back, grinning. “Take a swing, baby. I’ll even let you try to knock me out, yeah?”

“While this is fun,” Eddie says, “I think you two should look up.”

He looks at Page, then looks up, and looks back at Page, who looks, surprisingly, fatigued. “Oh, god,” Page says, “not another one.”

“Another one?” Mox says. “Aw, Cowboy, you been puttin’ your lips on somebody else? I thought you were all about me right now.”

Page stares at him, blue-green eyes unblinking for a moment. Then he strides toward him, grabs Mox’s face in his hands, and gives Mox the kind of kiss that makes him go a bit weak in the knees. Mox finds his footing, though, and gives back just as hard, clacking teeth with it. Page pushes him away as fast as he came at him. “I’ll kick your ass later,” Page says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, which definitely should not have given Mox a boner. “I gotta get back to my hotel before somebody else does some more stupid shit to make me stay here.” He nods to Eddie, like this isn’t weird at all, and walks past the two of them without another look back.

“I like him,” Eddie decides. “I know he’s your arch enemy right now or whatever, but I like him. The man’s got balls.”

“I…” Mox finds his fingers touching his lips, his brain a little dizzy. “Did that just happen?”

Eddie studies his face, then his eyes drop down to Mox’s crotch. “Oh. Of course. Your horny bastard. Alright, go back to the locker room. Fuck first, then cigarette.”

Mox shrugs. He can work with that order of events.

“First, though,” Eddie grabs Mox by the neck and hauls him in for a kiss, less angry than Page’s, but more possessive, more demanding. Mox loves this kind of kiss from Eddie. “Alright. Better.”

“Better?” Mox asks. “What the fuck was wrong with me?”

“Uh, I can’t put my dick in your mouth with you having Hangman spit all up in there.” He pats Mox’s cheek. “Now you’re better. Let’s go.”

~

Kenny Omega is fucking tired.

“You gotta do this bit, Omega-man,” Matt says, practically vibrating. “If you don’t start now, we’re missing a whole storyline detail, and then new people won’t know who the eff Ibushi is when he shows up at Revolution, and then we’ve lost the audience.” He perches on the side of the table, hops off, does a little jump on his toes, and goes right back on the table. “Come on. Please?”

Kenny exhales and turns to Matt. “Okay. Fine. But you and Cutler are out of here once we’re done.”

Matt nods. “Totally. Definitely.”

“You had another one of those Death coffees again, didn’t you?”

Matt shrugs. “Gets the job done. Don’t judge me.”

They run the bit, something practically invisible unless you know who Ibushi is, know that he’s Kenny’s favorite person and the biggest heartbreak he’s ever had. He wishes he knew how to tell Matt that this, the ex, is off limits. But he can’t.

“We good?” Kenny asks, curling up on the couch. “I need a nap.”

“We have EVP duties,” Matt says, frowning.

He might scream, later, when he’s back in his hotel room. “Can’t you and Nick take care of it?”

“It’s a three man job, and Tony’s on the phone yapping at somebody to stay for interviews,” Matt says. “So it’s the Elite taking over.”

Kenny follows him and, too late, realizes he forgot his phone in his locker room.

“I swear, I’ll be there,” Kenny promises Matt. “Seriously. Just give me five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” Matt repeats.

Kenny nods, because he knows what this is. “Five minutes.” He turns on his heel and makes his way back to his locker room, one closest to the exit. On the final turn to the room, he sees him.

Hangman.

Adam.

He’s on the phone, by the exit, talking frenetically and fidgeting with his belt buckle. He looks no different than before, when they were whatever they were. Champions, he guesses, but there was always so much more. Most unfortunately, though, he’s leaning up against the door of Kenny’s room.

He promised Matt five minutes. If he breaks that promise…

Kenny straightens his back, girds his loins, as they say, and walks toward the door like everything is normal. “Hey,” he says. “My locker room. Can I get in?”

Adam’s eyes are a little panicked, a little wild. He looks upwards, looks at Kenny, looks up again, and relaxes. “Sorry. Yeah. Uh.” He slides to the side. “Go right ahead.” He turns back to the phone. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Give me a minute.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Kenny says, waving it off. He feels too hot all of a sudden. Before he thinks about it, he pulls his shirt off over his head as he pushes into the locker room, then comes out with his phone. “You can, uh, go back there.”

Adam stares at him. “In front of a door? I, uh, I’m good here.” He wiggles his phone. “Tony’s trying to convince me to do some sort of interview later, but I’m exhausted.”

“You should,” Kenny says automatically. Adam raises his eyebrows. “Stay, I mean. I think people are really going to want to hear your plan for Moxley.”

Adam lets a small smile escape. “What, like, other than me wanting to drag him to hell?”

Kenny shrugs. “There could be more to it. I’m not in your head.”

Adam flinches like he got slapped, and Kenny wonders why he constantly fucks up with this man. “Yeah, you, uh, you’re not.” He pushes his hair out of his face. “You know where Tony is?”

“Yeah, I think he’s in the office. I’ll take you there.” It feels like an olive branch, at least to Kenny. Adam asking for help, allowing Kenny to give it. It feels like healing.

It’s devastatingly boring small talk on the short walk to the EVP office, talking about the weather and the traffic, but it’s more words between them without rage than they’ve exchanged since 2020.

“There’s a hallway between here and his office, but, uh, I’m sure he’ll let you in.” Kenny offers a smile to Adam, doing his best to be okay, be calm. To not spook him.

Adam nods. “Thanks, Kenny.” His eyes are locked onto Kenny’s. “I mean it.”

Kenny makes a strange little gesture toward the door, and his hand brushes against something hanging on the doorknob. He looks down, confused. “Oh.”

Adam follows his gaze, then groans. “Again?”

Kenny snaps up to look at him. “What, you’re just finding mistletoe all over the place?”

“Actually, yeah,” Adam says, looking a bit frazzled. “Like, this is the third one in the venue. It’s getting weird.”

Kenny laughs, but it’s too high pitched to be normal. “Weird. I didn’t put them up.”

Adam studies his face. “Why would you say that unless you’re the one who hung them?”

“I didn’t!” Kenny says. “Dude, I swear. I have nothing to do with the mistletoe.”

Adam’s fighting a smile, Kenny can tell. It’s one of the best looks for Adam. “You swear?”

“I swear,” Kenny says automatically.

Adam sighs. “Well, I’ve done the other two. Come here.”

“What?”

“Kissed somebody,” Adam explains, “with the mistletoe. It’s a tradition.”

“I know the tradition,” Kenny says. “I just – I’m surprised you’re – with me.” He swallows.

Adam’s smile turns kind. “It’s just a kiss, Kenny. If you don’t want to, we don’t.”

Kenny thinks about it for a minute. It’s a horrible decision. They’ve been through too much, hurt each other in too many ways, been away for too much time. This could be enough to shatter them both again.

He steps into Adam’s space, leaning in where Adam does, and their lips meet. It feels like warm honey in a cup of tea at home, like a heavy blanket on a snowy night when you know you’ll get a snow day the next morning. Kenny leans into it, resting a hand on Adam’s arm, drinking in the moment. If this is the last moment he shares with this man, a moment he never imagined possible, he wants it to echo.

They pull apart, and Kenny watches as Adam’s eyes flutter open.

“Okay,” Adam says, quiet. “Um. I’ll – I’ll be. Um.” He smiles, and it tattoos itself into Kenny’s soul, just like the rest of Adam.

“Yeah,” Kenny says. He hope his smile echoes his thoughts. “I gotta get to Matt and Nick. EVP shit, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam says. He reaches out to Kenny’s hand, though, and squeezes. “Talk later?”

Kenny feels the weight of the world float away. “Of course.”

When he gets back to Matt and Nick, Matt’s sitting there with a timer on his phone. Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds.

“Okay,” Kenny says, “I can explain.”

~

“You see Wheeler?” Willow asks, hopping up to sit next to Ruby. “He got absolutely flattened by Rush. I hope he’s okay.”

“He’s Blackpool,” Ruby says, waving the concern away. “He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Willow says. She bounces her legs against the edge of the table. “So, this tag match. Got any ideas?”

“Kill them,” Ruby deadpans. Willow waits. “Okay, like, don’t give me that look. I’m thinking submissions – just make them cry about it.”

“That feels mean.”

“Sweetheart, you beat people up for a living,” Ruby says, purple-painted lips in a mildly condescending smile, “mean is literally your job.”

Willow huffs. “I’m not mean!” she argues. “I’m – firm! Decisive! I tell stories.”

“Through hitting people.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. By hitting people.” She bumps Ruby. “I am a little excited about punching Anna and Tay. They could use a good fist to the face.”

“Okay, see, while I like the tenacity, if you closed fist them, we get disqualified. And that’s the opposite of the goal.”

“Fair,” Willow concedes. “Elbows?”

Ruby grins, patting her own elbow. “All of ‘em.”

They plan out the match together, tag methods Willow’s never thought of before, moves Ruby’s sure she can pull off that Willow was always hesitant about.

Ruby says something, and Willow laughs so hard she falls backward. When she opens her eyes, she sees something on the ceiling. “Hey,” she says, forcing the words through giggles. “What’s that?”

Ruby looks up. “I think – oh.” She grins down at Willow. “Mistletoe.”

Willow shrugs. “I mean. Why not?”

Ruby leans down and kisses her, soft and sweet and quick. She pulls away, smiling. “You’ve got my lipstick all over your face.”

Willow grins back at her. “Tag team shit?”

“Tag team shit.”

~

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, just a kiss on the cheek!” Kenny says, grabbing at Nick’s arm. “EVP cheek smooches.” He pouts. “You used to do cheek smooches for Adam Cole.”

“Oh, shut up,” Nick says, but he makes the mistake of smiling. Kenny smells blood in the water, and Matt jumps in.

“Nick,” Matt says, “it’s a tradition. It’s either kiss him on the cheek or on the lips.”

Nick wrinkles his nose. “Ew. Okay, fine. Get over here. I hate both of you.”

“You love us,” Matt retorts, and Nick kind of wants to strangle him.

He and Matt kiss Kenny on the cheek underneath the mistletoe, and Brandon films it for BTE, with Kenny giving a rambling diatribe about how he’s going to find the person who posted all the mistletoe and destroy them.

“Okay, well, that’s a little much,” Matt laughs. “We’re not going to destroy anybody.”

“I might destroy you,” Nick mutters. “God, I just wanna go home. When’s our flight?”

“Not until later, baby brother,” Matt says, and he gives Nick the worst noogie since high school.

“Get off me!”

“Today was fun,” Matt says, throwing an arm around Nick’s shoulders. “Where’d you get the idea for mistletoe?”

Nick pauses, and Matt half stumbles over himself. “What?”

“The mistletoe,” Matt repeats. “That was you, right? Putting it all over the arena.”

Nick shakes his head slowly. “No. I thought it was you.”

They turn to Kenny in tandem. “Was it you?” Matt asks.

“No, I thought it was Matt, actually.” He stares Matt down, and Nick joins in.

“I didn’t do it!” Matt insists. “Why would I ask you about the idea if it was me?!”

“Because that’s how you would bring it up,” Nick says. “It’s annoying. You’re annoying. That’s how you’d bring it up.”

“You’re more annoying,” Matt grumbles.

“You two are missing the point,” Kenny interrupts. “If it wasn’t one of us putting the mistletoe everywhere, who the hell was it?”

~

Max giggles and jumps like a toddler. “This was so good!” he laughs, spinning in his seat.

“Shh!” Anthony says, yanking his arm to sit down. “They still don’t know who it was. Do you want to ruin it?”

Max gets himself under control. “Did you have any idea Mox and Eddie were, like, together?”

“Um, duh,” Anthony says. “Jesus, for somebody this gay, you sure are oblivious.”

“You’re gay,” Max retorts.

“Yeah,” Anthony says. “Focus. We now have blackmail on the entire company. What do you want to do with it?”

Max goes quiet for a minute, stewing. “Actually, you know what I want to do?”

“What?”

He grins at Anthony. “I want to go flirt with MJF.”

Anthony collapses backward onto the floor, groaning like somebody just hit him. “Stop flirting with the devil. He’s never going to love you back.”

“It could be a Christmas miracle!” Max says, leaping to his feet. “We could It’s A Wonderful Life this shit.”

“You did not understand the themes of that movie,” Anthony grumbles, but he follows Max anyway, and that’s enough of a Christmas gift for him.

He looks up. “Anthony,” he singsongs, “look what I found hanging from the ceiling!”

Max does not get kissed under the mistletoe. He gets tackled.

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

The Cleaners Princess Kenny Omega smut

Summary: Olivia Jackson was the bullet clubs Princess, Kenny’s Princes. When she got hurt and had to put up here boots he and Kenny broke up. Now she’s back, and he and Kenny have some feelings.

Warning: Daddy kink, smut, some power kink I think, hair pulling, just generally nastiness. 

Olivia POV

3 years. It had been three years since I made a mistake in a match. Three years since I was carted out of the Tokyo dome on a stretcher. Three years since I had to retire from the sport I loved more than anything.

I couldn't get these thoughts out of my head as I drove down the road to Daileys place. I had finally gotten cleared to get back in the ring, and just in time for a huge moment on my brothers new company AEW. I turned into the parking lot of the event, and no one was out there. For a better surprise factor I was going to show up after the show already started. I found a parking spot and pulled my phone out, sending a quick text to Matt so he knew I was here.

I leaned my head forward a bit, letting it rest on the steering wheel. Was I really ready to get back in the ring? I practically jumped out of my skin when there was a knock on the window. I looked over to see Matt laughing causing me to role my eyes. I got out of the car, crossing my arms over my chest. "Really Matthew?"

"Oh calm down, it was funny." He said winking at me. "You got your bag?"

"Ya, I'm the back." I did heading around to the trunk to open it. As I pulled out my bag I looked over at Matt. "Where's my other half?"

"Fucked up his knee during our match earlier tonight. He should be fine, but we had to change the finish tonight a bit." He explained as he took my bag from me.

"You know I can carry my own shit right?" I asked as we walked to the back door.

"You sure? You couldn't back in Japan."

"That was a gimmick. You know me, living the gimmick." I joked poking his side.

"Ya, your the best at Playing entitled little sister. You kept it up even after you stopped wrestling." He said making me huff.

"That's not fair, I'm not even the youngest."

"Ya, but your the youngest of yourself, me, and Nick." He pointed out.

"Me and Nick were born the same day!"

"There was like a 5 minute difference." My head swung around to see one of my closest friends Adam page.

"What's up cowboy?" I asked crossing my arms over my chest as we stopped to talk to him.

"The sky."

"No shot Sherlock."

"Liv, watch your language." Matt mumbled shaking his head. If you went off of looks allow you would know me, Matt, and Nick were all related, but I acted so different then them. I drank about as much as Adam, and often would swear like a sailor. The only thing I had in common with them was wrestling really.

"Well I should probably get going. Got to get ready for the big night" I said winking at Adam as I turned to follow Matt down the hall.

"The Doc brought Nick back to the room before you got here, and you can get ready in here." He explained before pushing open the door. Nick is sat on the couch with his leg up, Karl was standing talking to Gallows, but Gallows wasn't looking at me. I smiled and put my finger up to my lips, telling Nick and Karl to stay quiet. Nick chuckled, and shook his head.

"Hey Matt." Karl said, clearly trying not to laugh as I snuck up behind him. I ran a few steps and jumped onto his back.

"GALLOWS!" I yelled as my arms wrapped around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He surged forward in surprised, his arms flying out to steady him.

"Olivia!" He said surprised as he looked at me over his shoulder. I smiled at him giggling.

"Hi." He just chuckled at me and grabbed under my knees and hoisted me up so it was more of a piggyback.

"Sometimes I wonder how your related to those to." Karl said laughing.

"I still don't think she is." Matt said rolling his eyes. I simply smiled as I jumped down from Gallows back (witch is pretty far), landing with a slight thud.

"Well, I've seen almost everyone. Where's Kenny?" I asked looking around the room, and I could feel the mood shift to uncomfortableness. I rolled my eyes at their nervousness. Me and Kenny has been dating back in Japan, I had even been known as 'The Cleaners Princess'. When I got hurt we tried the long distance, but it simply didn't work out. We split up, but we never hated each other. I still saw him when he came to see Matt and Nick in California.

"Really guys? It's been more then 2 years. Besides, I'll have to see him regularly if I'm going to be working with you again." I reminded them.

"We know. He will show up with Don at some point, it's normal to have him show up late." Nick explained as I nodded.

"Ok. I'm gonna go get changed, do my makeup, all that good shit." I said walking over to the bathroom they had. Once inside I locked the door and pulled my sweatshirt off. I did the same with my shirt and bra, but paused as I looked in the mirror. I had a couple nasty scars on my body from surgeries over the years.

My fingers traced over the small tattoo on my side. 'Livin the dream' was written in small black letters. Most of it was covered by even ring gear, so no one else knew it was there. Except of course Kenny. A dare one night after I drank a considerable amount, also the night me and Kenny got together.

I pulled myself away from the thought as I reached into my bag grabbing another bra, and my crop top version of a young Bucks tee shirt. I pulled my sweat pants I had worn here off, and pulled the ripped jeans on. The fans had always called my crazy Jackson, witch matched that I was always the 'wild child'. I then pulled out my old leather jacket. It was cold and smooth, just like the last time I put it on. I had never dared to where it out of wrestling. On the back the word 'Princess' was spelt out in light pink letters that had a look of being attached badly. I loved it. It's Time to put on a show.

—————————————————

"What's the drunkest thing you've ever done?" Kenny asked both of us sitting on the couch in his room after drinks with the guys.

"Honestly? Probably my tattoo." I answered.

"Tattoo?"

"Ya, don't you remember? On my side. I got it the night we got together." I said pointing to my left side.

"I'm gonna be honest I only remember certain parts of it." He confused taking a sip of water.

"So, how as Kenny Omega been? Nice to see the cleaner back." I said shifting a bit and pishimg at the lose hair that had come out of the ponytail.

"Why does everyone keep saying the cleaners 'back'?! I've always been him!"

"Probably just waiting for the mean ruthless Kenny. I mean, you were the guy who would do what it took to win, and you did that against Mox." I shrugged.

"I guess really that the cleaner kinda died off when you left." He admitted. "I mean, I had put a lot of time in making us the 'power couple' of the wrestling world."

"Lest be honest, we were the hottest couple. Plus I bet people are already wondering on twitter." I said pulling my phone out to open twitter. I had about a million notifications and as I clicked through them until I found one that stopped me. It read: Kenny's princess is back!! I bet she's calling his daddy tonight 😉

I felt a blush creep up my neck, and practically jumped when I felt Kenny's breath on my neck. "Well look at that. You were right." I'm sure it could look like he was just reading the tweet for the hell of it, but I could hear the change in his voice. I get his hands on my waist as he turned me towards him, our faces inches apart.

"I don't think I told you how much I've missed seeing you in the ring." He whispered, thumbs rubbing at my sides. "Did you miss me?"

"Depends on the part." I whispered, my hand moving up to his hair, and I gripped it lightly. "I missed playing with your long hair," I let my hands move along his arms to his fingers, "I've missed your muscle, and these fingers." I mumbled running my hand on them. "And I've course this." I whispered as o reached down and palmed his dick, and I could feel it was rock hard.

He groaned out and pulled me into a rough kiss that had our teeth clashing together. We continued to make out as my hands went back to his hair, pulling lightly now and again. When he finally pulled away we were both breathing heavily. "You know your a teas right?"

"What do you mean?" I asked turning my head in confusion.

"This damn jacket. Last I checked you were The Cleaners Princess anymore." He whispered in his rough voice. He leaned forward a bit to nip at my neck.

"Maybe I miss being your princess."

"Well, I may just have some great news, there is an audition for that exact spot." He whispered pulling jacket from my shoulders slowly.

"What do I have to do?"

'Make the king feel good." I knew immediately what that meant, and slid from the couch to the ground letting out a small sound of pain when I hit the ground. "Careful babe. You will be making those sounds a bit later."

I reached forward and undid his pants and with his help pulled his jeans and boxers. His length stood tall and hard in front of me, the head an angry red. I looked up at him as he gave me a nod and I reached forward. As my hand wrapped around he moaned out. I ran my hand up and down it a bit before Kenny grabbed me by the hair. You better get sucking baby."

He lead me with my hair as my mouth wrapped around his tip. I recognized the taste, witch caused me to moan out, making him moan from the feeling. He lead me up and down for a bit, and I could feel him trying not to thrust up. "Fuck it." He mumbled pulling me off him and yanking me to his lap. He reached up and didn't even Try taking my shirt and bra off before he just ripped it. "Get your god damn pants off." He growled into my ear. I stood up quickly pulling them off, and when I looked back Kenny was waiting.

I crawled back into his lap, making him hold my hips. "Rode me slut." He whispered, making me shudder. He hadn't prepared me at all, so as I snuck down I could tell I was tight, but clearly didn't care. Once I bottomed out is at for a moment, trying to catch my breath. He leans forward his breath on my ear. "Bounce bitch."

Immediate I started riding him like I would die if I stoped. "Fuck, Kenny!" I moaned as I bounced. I get his mouth take one of my buds into his mouth as he sucked harshly.

"Let's use the right name. You've done this before." He said sternly. I could feel my climax coming, and knew he wouldn't let me off that easy.

"Fuck Daddy! I'm so close please!" I moaned as I tried to keep up my pace, slamming down on his Enyo match his thrust.

"Fuck do it princess." He encouraged making me shudder as I came. My body practically going limp. He pushed me forward off of his lap to the ground and positioned his dock in my face as he started to jerk off. I watched as he got closer, and stuck out my tongue as he came all over my face. Neither of us moved for a moment before Kenny pulled my back up, my legs shaking as I got up. He reached over and grabbed some blanket and used it to wipe us both off.

"House keeping is going to hate you." I mumbled my eyes already feeling heavy.

"I think I'll survive." He said pulling me closer. Did this mean we still liked each other? I pushed the thought away, just wanting Kenny to hold me as I slept.

AN: I really liked writing this and though about make a full series about it. Would any read it if I did?

[faggotmox]

title: heartbreak kid series: briar patches (the final installment) rating: g pairing: Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson word count: 855 warnings: pre teen heartbreak lol summary: Typically when it comes to everything Mox is the go to parent. Except when it comes to matter's of the heart.

[link to ao3]

“Thank God you’re home, babe.” Mox sighed in relief when Bryan stepped through the door.

“What’s wrong?” Bryan asked slowly as he tried to gauge if there was an actual problem or a normal Mox problem.

“So, I picked the kid up from school, right? And he’s being really quiet the whole way home. I’m trying to talk to him and he’s answering but not really talking to me. Finally I’m like what’s wrong.” Mox takes a deep breath. “And he’s saying he’s fine and stuff. So we get home and I guess I pushed too hard and he started crying and said he just wanted to wait until you got home because he wants to talk to you about it.”

“Oh-kay.” Bryan stood there awkwardly. “That’s weird.”

“What?” Mox frowned.

“You’re the go to parent.” Bryan pointed out.

“What’s that mean?” Mox shook his head. “Look, that doesn’t matter. Please go talk to him? Tell him I’m sorry or whatever.”

“Jon, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll go talk to him.” Bryan put his keys down before heading upstairs.

Bryan made sure to knock and wait to be let in. There was silence on the other end. Maybe Mox had been up here still asking.

“Briar, it’s me. Dad told me you wanted to talk to me?” Bryan finally spoke up through the door.

There was some rustling before the door opened. As soon as Bryan got a good look at his son he knew. The saddest, red rimmed eyes imaginable, tear stained cheeks, and a book of poetry in his hand.

“Oh, buddy. Can I come in and sit down with you?” Bryan nodded towards the bean bag chairs before being led to them by his son. He made sure to shut the door before laying down on a bean bag. “Is that the book Eddie got you?”

“Yeah. Shakespeare poems.” Briar shrugged as he thumbed the pages. “I like it.”

“You’ve read it a lot.” Bryan watched Briar tuck his strawberry blonde hair behind his ear. They had to fight with the school about Briar’s hair being so long, but Briar had cried at the mention of cutting it and Bryan hated the idea. His little boy always had long hair.

“I love reading.” Briar pushed a page aside. “Eddie has some good ones but Uncle Wheeler picks out the best books.”

“You know what the first activity I did with you was?” Bryan reached over to start running his fingers through his son’s hair as the pre-teen shook his head. “After you were born I held you a few times between you being taken for tests and back. Finally when I got to sit down with you, and your father was still afraid to hold you, I read to you.”

“Must be why I like it so much.” Briar frowned a little as he let the silence stretch between them. “Can you read to me now?”

“I can always read to you, buddy.” Bryan smiled as he took the held out book. “Still want poems? We can do that.”

For a while they sat together as Bryan read aloud. Eventually Briar climbed over to snuggle up to his father. After a few poems Briar finally opened up.

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” He rubbed the tears from his eyes.

“I’m really sorry.” Bryan closed the book to look down at his son.

“It’s stupid.” Briar sighed, his head resting on Bryan’s shoulder. “She broke up with me for a dumb reason.”

“What reason?” Bryan cocked his head to the side as he tried to think of why pre-teens would break up.

“She asked me out because she liked my hair,” Briar explained. “But today she said she couldn’t be with someone who has better hair than her! It’s so dumb!”

“That’s why?” Bryan had to hold back a laugh, he didn’t want to make fun of his son’s pain but that was objectively funny. His son had better hair than his girlfriend. “I’m sorry she’s jealous. Your hair is awesome.”

“She is jealous.” Briar sighed. “Just sucks.”

“It does, buddy.” Bryan put his arm around his son.

“Can you read more?” Briar asked as he pushed the book towards Bryan again.

It took awhile for Briar to fall asleep, but when he did Bryan put him to bed. Today must have been a long day for the kid. Once he was sure his son was tucked in, Bryan headed downstairs to find Mox still anxiously pacing around the house.

“You’ve been up there for hours!” Mox threw his hands up. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, just heartbroken. His girlfriend broke up with him because his hair is better than her hair.” Bryan started giggling. “That’s insane, right?”

“Seriously?” Mox started laughing. “Oh my god. That’s fucking stupid.” Mox wrapped his husband up in a hug.

“That’s what Briar said. I think he just feels used.” Bryan explained as they wrapped their arms around each other. “She asked him out because of his hair, and then broke up with him for the same reason.”

“Wow.” Mox shook his head. “Our boy’s first heartbreak.”