#this was done back when i hadn't even started watching part 4 . yet

[springcourtrose]

Please, stop... | Part 4

Pairing: Helion x reader (x Nessian)

Warnings: mentions of death - MINORS DNI

Prompt: you’re Nesta and Cassian’s mate and yet you are so different from them. From day 1 you tried to be a good mate and do as they wanted and liked but they like it rough and you just don’t. Not only is it not enjoyable for you, it is actually painful. And not just in bed. You always excused their behavior as being overprotective but recently you started calling it something else: controlling. And one night, all changed as you uttered the words you had tried so hard never to say, but always thinking if you ever did they would listen. But they didn’t. And that night, everything broke.

(A/N: Thank you for all of your support, this has been fun! I hope you enjoy this last part 🩷 PS: English isn't my first language)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Nesta and Cassian were lying in bed, facing each other, staring at the empty space in the middle, where you used to lie in between them. They did so every day, twice a day in fact. Once in the evening, when your absence kept them awake, and once in the morning, when it made them want to die.

They had no time for it this morning, however, as Rhys had called a meeting, and they were already late for it.

It had been a little over a year since you left and they had never recovered from your loss. And they never will. They didn't want to.

Their friends had gotten used to their empty eyes, to the bags under them, to the paleness of their skin. They had even started to forget the sound of their laughs or the way they smiled. It was an unspoken rule not to mention you in front of them, ever. And had they been paying attention, had they cared at all about anything anymore, they would have noticed their friends' nervous behavior. They had gotten used to the pity in their eyes, but this morning, there was something more than just pity. They sat on the couch across from where Rhys and Feyre waited for them. Amren in the armchair on their right, Mor on their left, Azriel standing behind her, his back against the wall. They had no idea what the meeting was about, they didn't care. They were utterly unprepared for what they were about to hear.

"We have news," Rhys started carefully." From the Day Court."

Nesta stilled. Cassian looked up at his brother, a hint of light in his hollow eyes.

"Y/N?" he asked, your name only a murmur on his lips, as if he could hurt you again just by speaking your name.

"Yes."

"Is she alright?"

"She's fine. She... Helion sent word to every court. They have married, and he's made her his High Lady."

Neither of them felt the watchful eyes of their friends as their High Lord told them the news. They had no idea what to expect from them. When it came to you, their behavior had been surprising ever since you had gone. They had given up so quickly. They had let you go. They hadn't even tried to go and see you in the Day Court. As if every day since your departure was self-inflicted torture, penance, for what they had done to you. They were miserable, and they knew they deserved it and worse.

"That's good," Cassian nodded, a small smile forming on his face, quickly fading away. "Helion makes her happy. I'm glad."

Nesta said nothing. She didn't react. She just stared at nothing, like she so often did now. Cassian placed a hand on hers and squeezed gently.

"That's good," he repeated.

And that had been that.

Your laugh echoed through the courtyard, like it so often did now. The servants and caretakers smiled as they watched you and their High Lord embrace in the sun.

You were brushing Thea's mane when your husband had come up behind you and pressed a kiss in your neck. His hands ran down your body as he enveloped you in his arms.

"Good morning, my love."

"'morning, sunshine," you smiled, leaning into him.

Thea had been his wedding gift to you. The most perfect pegasus, 'a steed fit for a High Lady', he had written on the note. Unfortunately, you had said, you would not be able to ride her for a few months. That had been your gift to him, and you swore the smile on his face, as you brought his hands to your swollen belly, had shone brighter than the sun.

You were only three months along, but already so big. You had complained about it to him, feeling somewhat insecure, but he had assured you you had never looked better. And the healer the next day had easily explained it. You were carrying twins. A boy and a girl. Both healthy. You were both overjoyed.

The past year had been absolute bliss for the both of you. There was really nothing that could ruin it.

It was the middle of the afternoon when it happened. Two months after your wedding. You were sitting comfortably on your canopy in your chambers, reading a book, when death came upon you.

The scream that came out of you was the scariest thing Helion had ever heard. He rushed into the room to find you shaking on the floor, bent over your knees. He knelt in front of you and seized your face in his hands, checking you for any injury. He found none.

"What is it?"

The look in his eyes was wild with worry but yours, yours were grieving.

"Cassian," you breathed. "He's dying."

Cassian's screams echoed in the Court of Nightmares as Madja and two other healers worked on him. They had managed to control the bleeding of his opened wounds but his wings... it was his wings that made his screams so horrible.

It took two more healers to save him from death's grip, but his wings... only time would tell if he would ever be able to fly again.

He slept for hours, only waking for a few minutes at a time. Nesta never left his side. She had already lost one mate, she wouldn't lose another. She had threatened and barked at the healers to save him. It was the most spirit she had shown in the past year and a half.

He was awake, however, when Rhys came in.

"How are you feeling, brother?"

"Half-dead," he coughed, "half-alive."

"There's someone who wants to see you, if you're feeling up to it?"

The Illyrian warrior frowned.

"Who?" Nesta demanded.

And if the bastards who had ambushed him that morning, about 20 men against one, hadn't managed to kill him, the sight of you standing behind his brother could have finished him right then and there.

"Y/N," Nesta breathed as she slowly stood from the bed.

Your eyes quickly moved from him to her then back to him again. He stared right back at you, at a lack for words. He wondered if he were imagining it, if he were hallucinating you. He wondered if you had come to spit on his dead corpse.

Helion stood behind you and remained close as you approached and came to a stop at the end of his bed.

"Hey," you said to him. You spoke to him.

"Hey," he murmured back, tears in his eyes, a knot in his throat.

"I felt you die."

He swallowed hard. "I couldn't die without seeing your pretty face again." He tried to smile. But ended up wincing. You didn't smile back. Tears fell on his cheeks. "You're pregnant."

You took a deep breath as you nodded, your hands coming to rest on your belly. You eyed Nesta quickly. Her cheeks were wet. You understood she never thought she would ever see you again.

"I'm glad you're not dead," you said, and this time, his smile was true. And this time, you smiled back.

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, near where Nesta stood. You nodded at her. She nodded back.

You slowly brought a hand to Cassian's face and cupped his cheek, wiping tears away with your thumb.

"Will your wings heal?"

"'don't know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't," he shook his head. "Don't ever apologize to me, to us," he said as he took your tiny hand in his large one. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he sobbed. "I'm so fucking sorry."

You nodded, then looked up at Nesta. You didn't expect her to apologize. She didn't apologize to anyone, and you doubted she would to you.

"We fucked it up," he spat, angry and disgusted at himself. "We didn't take care of you like we should have. We didn't treat you right. We hurt you, and I'll never forgive myself for that. Ever."

You nodded again. It's not that you couldn't find the words. It's that you had absolutely nothing to say to that. To them.

"I will always love you," he continued. "As long as I'm alive."

"I know," you finally said. You had felt it that day you had tried to destroy the bond. That was that tiny thread left between you. Their love, however painful it had been to you.

He smiled again. A sad smile that should have broken your heart.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"Then I will die a happy male."

"You won't die at all, even if I have to bring all the healers of the Day Court to save your life."

He chuckled, then winced.

"Spoken like a true High Lady," he said with a proud smile. "So," he cleared his throat. "Boy or girl?"

You smiled slightly. "Both. Twins."

"I'm so happy for you," he beamed at you. You felt Nesta boil from where she stood. You knew she was trying her very best not to say a thing. Not to ruin this moment. For Cassian. And for you.

"Be happy, Cassian," you told him, running your thumb once more on his cheek before letting go of his face.

You gestured for Helion to help you back up and he was with you in an instant. You looked up at Nesta as you stood on your feet. She wouldn't say a thing, but you saw enough in her eyes. She had lost any hope of happiness the day she lost you. And she would live with that for the rest of her life.

You smiled at your husband as he linked his arm to yours and walked you to the door. You were halfway across the room when a voice stopped you.

"Tell me what I have to do to have your forgiveness."

You turned to meet Nesta's eyes. Determined. Desperate.

You had thought about it. You had thought about it many times. What it would take for you to forgive them. You never could find the answer. And as you stood there with her you understood there was nothing either of them could do. Nothing they could say. But there was one thing you were dying to know.

"Why didn't you stop when I asked?"

Cassian's face turned grave. Nesta didn't even flinch.

"I didn't want to," she answered honestly. "I took what I wanted from you and I didn't stop to think how that made you feel. I didn't even consider the possibility that I was... that we were hurting you. Because you were my... our mate, and you were mine..." she paused, a knot forming in her throat as tears formed in her eyes. "And I was so wrong."

"So you didn't know you were hurting me?"

She shook her head. Cassian said nothing, he only lowered his eyes in shame.

"Would you have stopped, would you have changed, had you known?"

"Yes." It was Cassian who answered. "But we should have known."

"We should have known," Nesta nodded.

You paused to look at them both for a moment. Then, you squeezed Helion's hand before you turned your back to your mates once more.

"Yes. You should have."

The end!

I hope you liked it! I am curious though, do you think reader should have / could have forgiven them? Were you hoping for another ending? 🤔 Let me know!

Thank you all for the likes and reblogs, I really enjoyed writing this, I haven't written in so long! 🩷

Tags: @chessebookgirl @impossibelle @esposadomd @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @63angel @azzydaddy @ghostbutaliveidk @queerqueenlynn @randomperson1234sblog @nyx-the-alien

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part ten)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I really love this chapter. Let's see if you can find the reference I made in here. I honestly make so many references in the fics I write, but no one has noticed them.

Anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The tension in the air could have been cut by a blunt knife.

The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian was staring down one of the most feared man in Prythian, the Spymaster of the Night Court.

They were nearly chest to chest, and Y/n feared that if someone didn't step in, this place would be bathed in blood. So she cleared her throat.

Azriel looked at her, brows furrowed.

"I– can we go back? Can you take me back?"

"Sure–" As he began to turn to her, the High Lord's hand shot out, clamping down on his shoulders. Azriel glared at the hand and then it's owner.

"Cassian can take her back. Or if its him you want to go with, please wait for sometime." Rhys glanced at her while saying the second part. "My office. Now." He threw at Azriel before stalking out of the room.

Everyone watched him go, a muscle feathering in Azriel's jaw as he turned to her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be there soon." With that, he turned and followed Rhys.

Y/n's stomach turned as she thought about what could happen to Azriel. The high lord was said to be ruthless and cunning, and even though he hadn't seemed like it when they first met, she didn't know if she could sit still until she was sure that her husband was safe. The urge to follow him and make sure he wouldn't be harmed was overpowering any sense she had, but before she could take a step, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder.

He tilted his head towards the door, and she nodded. Glancing back one last time to where Azriel had disappeared, she followed Cassian outside.

She stayed quiet the whole time, muttering a thanks to Cassian when they landed before locking herself in her room.

She couldn't stop thinking about Azriel and what he'd done today. Allegedly done today.

She changed into her nightgown, climbing into bed hoping to sleep. Maybe then her mind would stop trying to find some meaning in his actions. Maybe then her heart would stop trying to make her feel things she didn't want to feel.

•○🌑○•

It had been almost more than an hour now, and Y/n couldn't sleep no matter what she did. With a huff of annoyance, she threw the covers aside and stood, stomping to the balcony and leaning against the railing. Her minds inability to just shut the hell up was frustrating.

As her mind drifted through the plethora of thoughts in her head again, she couldn't help but think back to where Azriel might be right now. Was he back yet? He would come to meet her if he was, right?

As soon as she had those thoughts, she heard the familiar scuff of boots coming near, and her chest started loosening. From the sound of it, the door opened and closed behind her, but she didn't turn. She couldn't, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and slapping him at the same time. She wondered which she would prefer.

She could feel him coming closer, and she gripped the railing tightly.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly, having stopped a little distance away.

She shook her head. "Did you really do it?"

A pause. "Yes."

She nodded, not knowing what to say to that. He took that as a cue to step forward. She knew he did because one moment her back was cold, and the next, she could feel his body heat through the thin silk of her gown. Suddenly she felt extremely exposed, considering the thing she was wearing barely reached her knee, and it was only held up by thin strings.

She inwardly cursed Nesta for this. Y/n had never worn something like this, and when she and Nesta had started to become friends, Nesta was appaled when she realised Y/n did not sleep half naked.

"Do you have nothing to say to that?" Azriel asked, his body like a furnace behind her.

"What do you want me to say?"

"How– how do you feel about all of this?"

"I don't know..."

"Does it bother you?"

She shook her head. "No, it does not. But what about the women and children?"

"They were evacuated to safety. And your brother, he's here."

At that, she finally turned slightly to look at him. She hadn't even thought of her brother who lived in the camp. She didn't have to worry about Velda as she lived in a different camp.

Azriel towered over her, studying her.

"What?"

"He is living in an inn across the Sidra."

"Really?" When he nodded, relief spread through her. She mumbled a thank you before turning back to the view in front of her.

"Your....your father is alive."

She stiffened. "What?" She whispered.

"He burned in the fire, but I just felt like he didn't suffer enough for his crimes." He stated casually, as if he was telling her about the weather.

She blinked at the night sky before asking the same question again.

"I bought him here. He is where we keep all the prisoners and I... interrogate them. He is badly injured and won't be able to escape. I wanted to ask you before I did anything to him."

She knew exactly what he meant with that.

"What did you want to ask."

"You were the one who suffered from his ministrations. You deserve the right to punish him however you want. You can either let him live, give him a quick death or let me handle him."

"What would letting you handle him entail?"

"I'll go all Spymaster on him. I'll do all the things I do to the prisoners to get information out of them."

She nodded. Thinking for some time, she finally decided. "Then I'll let you handle him."

He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

His hands landed on either side of her on the railing as he leaned closer. "Thank you." Butterflies erupted in her stomach as he kissed her shoulder before straightening. "Come, you should sleep."

She turned to him, and ignoring her mind, she followed her heart's urge to wrap her arms around her husband. He froze for a moment before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and using the other to cradle the back of her head.

"Thank you. You didn't need to do this." She mumbled against his chest.

"I absolutely did." She pulled back from him. He smiled and kissed her forehead before tugging her back into the room.

As she lay down and he arranged the covers around her, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Azriel? Your father and brothers lived in the camp too. What happened to them?"

He gave her a smile, and honestly she should have been scared of it. But she wasn't, and that scared her more than anything else did.

"They're dead."

"Did you see them?"

"Yes. And it gave me immense satisfaction."

"Wish I could have witnessed it."

He blinked at her, a slow smile spreading on his face. He pushed her hair back from her face as he straightened. "Hmm. Next time I do something like this, I'll make sure to take you with me."

She grinned, just a little bit, shaking her head. He stared at her for a few moments before nodding his head and turning away. "Good night."

She didn't want him to go. Atleast, not yet.

She had only a moment to make her choice, and she did.

Her heart danced with joy while her mind screamed at her that this was a bad idea.

"Azriel." She burst out before she lost her nerve.

He paused, turning back slightly. "Yes?"

"Can you– can you stay?"

He stared at her. "What? You– you want me to stay?"

Instantly, a blush was climbing up her neck. What if he didn't want to stay? She kicked herself mentally. "Only if you wish to–"

"I do." His eyes shone. "Um– do you want me to sleep on the ground? I have no problem with it."

She shook her head. "Stay next to me. Please."

The room was dark, the only light provided by the moonlight filtering in from the doors of the balcony. She almost couldn't see the flush on his neck and face as he rounded the bed, where a few clothes had appeared. He took them and walked into the bathing chamber to change.

When he walked back out he was dressed in loose pants and shirt. He slowly climbed into the bed. He was as stiff as a plank with tension as he lay as far as he could from her.

She smiled and turned on her back. "You can relax you know. You'll never get any sleep if you're that tensed up."

He sighed. "I know."

She bit her lip. "I don't bite...much."

His head whipped to her. And honestly, she agreed. She wasn't bold in any way. She didn't even know where that came from.

"Tell me about something interesting."

"Velaris was built by Rhys's father." He supplied.

"Really? Wasn't he..."

"Cruel? A monster? That he was. But he did build and protect Velaris. The only good thing he did, honestly."

"What was he like?"

Azriel began telling her about the previous High Lord of Night Court, and she listened, her attention rapt. As moments passed, his voice filling the room, he relaxed gradually. He also told her about Cassian's past and his mother.

When he was done, they stayed silent. She processed all the information that had just been dumped on her. She shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Would you accept an olive branch?" She nodded and he pulled her closer. Now she was as stiff as a board.

"Relax. I don't bite...much." He murmured against her hair.

She sat up abruptly. "Was that a joke Spymaster?"

He grinned, pulling her back to his chest. "Maybe." After a pause, he went on. "Sleep. I won't try anything. No funny business unless you ask for it."

"Shame." She mumbled under her breath.

"Did you say something Y/n?"

Of course the bastard heard her. "No."

"I feel like Nesta is a really bad influence on you."

"Shut up." She shoved his chest lightly. He just kissed her head and wished her a good night.

As she drifted off, she felt safer than she had felt in her whole existence. She knew he would protect her always, no matter what.

And maybe that should have scared her, but it just made her feel warm and happy, making something in her chest sing.

•○🌑○•

Part 11

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34 @aria-chikage

[wrenkenstein]

OC creation musings + Juno retrospective

I was rewatching this video by Rea, and it struck me that this exact phenomenon happened to me in 2022, with the first inklings of Juno's design - back when I couldn't decide on whether or not her name would be "Juno" or "Kite", and desperately trying not to make her a scientist. She's obviously come such a long way since then, having now become a very well-known character in the fandom, but I often think of the fact that had she not become on of my artistic passions, I probably wouldn't be anywhere near where I am today.

Juno is absolutely everything to me. She is a representative of my passion for storytelling, and she connected me with so many of my now closest friends - one of which is currently living in my house! How crazy is that, man! All of which I can attribute to simply becoming so fixated on my own OC that I couldn't stop thinking about her, or drawing her.

Of course, that's come with some highs and lows. She's getting a professionally done cosplay, a 3D model and potentially a Battlefront mod - but she also has her own dedicated group of haters who think she represents the 'wrongs' of fandom, lol. I certainly have recieved my fair share of 'Juno hate' in my 3-4 years here, but the positivity and support make it well worth dealing with a few rotten apples. It's radiant and outpouring, like a warm ray of sun, and it keeps me going deep into the night.

Anyways. Total tangent. Want to see all her design iterations? Yea you do ;) Here's the first ever Juno ref!

I made this on my phone in 2022, at the tale end of watching TCW and back when TBB was just one season. You can definitely see that the idea was always there, just a bit disjointed in its application. That gas mask on her helmet ended up causing a lot of confusion, so I removed it in later iterations - but to this day, I think this one picture is what really captivated me. Something about the aura, man,, she scary lookin

Then, of course, I had to draw what her face would look like - if it hadn't been for a RP, I don't think I would have.

Woah - she's like a whole different person! And you can see the beginnings of her white hair streak, though back then, I wanted i to be really subtle. And I was soooo adamant about this lol. She also was almost beat for beat Ellen Ripley, and you can see me paint over a picture of Sigourney below with her OG faceclaim haha.

Then we have the Juno-ing... part two. Where I went darker!! Both in themes, and in her color scheme. This one still has so much personality, and I remember being obsessed with how I drew her eyes and face back then. Nowadays, I think it's hideous. xD This was also around the time I was phasing out her gauntlets and oxygen mask, but both still remained for practicality purposes, even if they didn't serve anything to the design. Oh, and the hair streak. Now it's a Thing :tm: but it isn't really flowing well with the design - not yet, anyways!

We finally get to a point where I, begrudingly, accept the fact that her white streak is going to be her facial focal point - and at this point I'm laughing about how much I tried to avoid it LOL. But here, we also see her get more and more refined. Her face is still a bit wonky, but the stern vibe and posture are starting to come together and tell more of a concrete story, even if the reference doesn't have as much color or personality as the last one. I also did this one for my senior year of college!

I even designed her some totally BS civvies - and I gave her a s2 paint job, which admittedly looks hideous LMAOOO but we ball regardless. The second design was scrapped anyways almost immediately. The civvies stayed!

And then, of course, THE FINALE! Her face went through so many iterations with her current ref, but thus far, it's been the longest standing and most accurate one. It atually started out just as me goofing off with a marker pen in CSP, that quickly changed to "hey... this could be something good." And I was right! This is the Juno that's currently circulating today, and I've been polishing and refining her as I go, since I still feel as though I could perfect things.

And then, of course, her various outfits, which I posted about a while back. Oh - and have you seen Baby Juno?

Well now you have. :)

I think it's so cool to see how someone can fixate on a character and pour so much love and thought into them, that this character becomes their entire brand. Juno inhabits every part of my brain space and is what I think about 24/7. I'm so proud of how far she comes, and she reminds me about how incredible fandom can be and continues to be! Something about her is just so intoxicating to me. I can't get enough of her, and I can't wait to keep developing her over the years to come.

Which then begs the question - what is your equivalent to this entire thread? Do you have an OC like Juno, who you're fixated on and who dominates your creative pursuits? Do they have multiple artistic iterations? Because if you do, share them!! I WANNA SEEEEEE.

Anyways, that's Wren's Ramblings for today ~ I got bored haha

SHARE YOUR OCS!!!! >:0

[split-spectrum]

Concessions

Chapter 4

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, orgasm denial, edging, porn with very little plot

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that forbids him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him. The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find every exception.

☆☆☆

"Perhaps you should go," Obi Wan says, turning away from you after he closes the door to his quarters.

"I will," you assure him, already coming closer, not willing to let him put any distance between you. "Just as soon as we're finished."

He glances back at you, raising his brows in that helpless way of his, looking decidedly done with your antics, yet ravenously aroused despite it all. "We both have commitments in the morning."

You step around him, sliding your hands beneath his robe and dropping it to the floor, running your palms down his chest and pushing him firmly backward. "We'll be quick."

When his back hits the wall, a soft huffing noise leaves him. "Like we were in the detention cell?"

Your cheeks flush. Teasing him with soft licks, pulling off just to make him moan for you - to hear him plainly confess that you'd made him feel good... His accusation is embarrassingly well-founded. You clearly hadn't been speeding to the finish.

"Have it your way," you answer, voice as coolly detached as you can manage while everything in you is pulled tight, burning to touch him again. "I won't even use my mouth."

Your hand cups him through his clothes and he looks pained, almost sick. The creases in the corners of his eyes deepen and his face contorts into a scowl even as he lifts his chin and rests his head back against the wall to get a better view. He watches under heavy eyelids as you gather his pants and tug them down.

You lean into him, loving the way he twitches in your hand, and whisper close to his ear, "It'll be fast, promise."

He's still wearing that disapproving face when you squeeze him, already hard and throbbing between his legs. He's so pent up you can almost feel the heat radiating off of him. No matter how hard he pinches his brow, it doesn't help his case one bit. His eyes haven't left your hand for a moment. When you tug him, hot and dry and quick, your name falls from his mouth in a reflexively disapproving tone.

You just keep murmuring warm words against his neck. "Relax. Let me make you feel good."

A soft string of expletives drift through his clenched teeth. He's sucking air, hissing, trying to keep the stutter in his breath under control.

"I'll be honest, Obi Wan," you purr right next to his ear. "I am glad you didn't ask someone else. Having the chance to do this has been..."

You started the sentence with the intention to keep nudging him toward orgasm as fast as possible. Just running your mouth with whatever seductive words came to mind. But you've loosed a little too much of the truth, and you find you can't finish the thought.

Instead, you flick your wrist and curl your palm up and over his head, dragging through the precum that's been slowly pouring out of him since the detention cell. Your other hand slips down to cup his swollen balls, and he makes a strangled gasping sound.

"Fuck, mmm, there, it's-" he huffs through shaky breaths.

Again, he's saying, without saying it. You eagerly obey, stroking his cock and gently playing with his balls until his eyes have rolled back and he's starting to murmur filthy words you've never heard before.

"Oh, I'm close-" he chokes out after a few more moments of this; hardly any effort on your part. You're heaving your breaths right along with his, and you can almost feel how wide your pupils must be blown out right now, watching him writhing at your touch, right at the edge of coming. You feel perverted, eyes glued to his cock, only tearing up every few seconds to glimpse his sweaty, delirious face, waiting for the moment when his suffering turns to ecstasy.

"Come for me," you push. "I want to see it."

I want to taste it, you think, but you wonder if it might be too much to admit.

As if it's the first time it's occurred to him, Obi Wan opens his eyes to toss a quick, frantic glance at the table, and then around him.

"Blast, I hadn't-" his eyes roll closed again when you speed up your strokes, not wanting him to get distracted. His voice goes strained and airy. "Where- where shall I-"

It's so fastidious of him, wondering if he should make a mess of your clothes or the floor, and you can't help a little gush of adoration for him at the sight of his helpless, urgent face. You're about to give him your answer by falling to your knees when you hear a faint knocking sound.

Both of your hands still, and he drops the hem of his tunic to cover himself. Your eyes flick up to his.

"What was that?" you whisper, desperately hoping you can both agree to pretend you didn't hear it.

He swallows, giving a shake of head before looking frustratedly at the door.

You softly graze him a few times, not willing to give up. Not again.

"Master?" a small voice calls through the wood.

Obi Wan's eyes close and the mussed hair at the back of his head meets the wall as he releases a long, slow breath through his nose.

"Just a moment," he calls back, and you have to fight not to audibly groan.

You let him go when he tugs his pants back up, and you back across the room when he goes for the door. He stops to seemingly gather himself, silent and unmoving for a long moment before he opens it. The lights of the city illuminate the hall window behind the small figure in the doorway.

"Anakin," Obi Wan says with a slight tone of concern. "What is it?"

The boy isn't quite meeting his eyes. "I... had a nightmare."

Obi Wan sighs while Anakin looks off to the side. "My padawan..." he says softly, "we've discussed this before. You're getting too old for this... this..."

You can see, even in the dim light, how Anakin's little brow tightens, his downcast stare turning hard and sullen. Obi Wan doesn't finish his sentence. He just sighs again. "Come in."

Anakin finds you standing in the kitchen, pretending to find something to drink in the conservator. "Hi Ani," you greet him with a warm smile. It's not his fault, after all, that your evening is now hideously and irrevocably ruined. "You okay?"

His questioning stare turns shy again. "Yes, I'm okay."

"You can sleep in the main room," Obi Wan calls from behind him, already laying down blankets on the couch in what seems to be part of a too-familiar routine.

Anakin blushes and turns around, clearly not having expected to explain himself to anyone besides Obi Wan. Gratefully, you put down your juice and head for the door.

"We can work on that report some other time, Obi Wan," you tell him, catching his violently repressed gaze as you leave. "See you later."

"Of course," he answers, short and clipped. "Some other time."

--

'Some other time' arrives more swiftly than you'd expected.

You've seen more of him in the temple today than you can stand, really. You'd been obligated to participate in a training exhibition for a class of padawan learners, and when you'd walked in to see him in a tight-fitting undershirt, training rod in hand and soft, billowing pants hung loosely around his waist, you'd nearly turned around and walked out. The grappling portion of the demonstration had bordered on torture.

And at the end of the day, finally able to find some time alone in your quarters, there's one task more pressing than all others. You'd hardly made it through the door before you were stripping.

Perhaps it's unbefitting a young Jedi to find herself flushed, straining to remove her clothes, and shuffling beneath her covers to touch herself while thinking of another Jedi's warm breath tickling her ear, his legs wrapped around her waist as he'd pinned her to the ground. But you don't much care, at the moment. You're a luminous being, to be sure, but your body has been ignored for higher ideals all day.

Your middle finger is just about to brush the tip of your relief when your comlink finds the worst possible time to go off. Sucking air between your teeth, you sit up, pushing the covers back to check the screen and make sure you can ignore the call. Unfortunately, Master Plo's name is illuminated, and you quickly pull on your clothes and become a decent Jedi once again.

"...yes, Master. I'm sorry my last report was a bit further down the timeline than expected..."

"Oh, it isn't? Then how may I..."

"Oh, that's terrible..."

"... No, I have no other pressing matters..."

"... I see. Does- does Obi Wan know that you've asked me? Of course. Yes, I can leave right away..."

And that conversation is how you now find yourself requisitioning a ship at an unreasonably late hour, awaiting the arrival of Obi Wan and his padawan at the docks.

The path you'd charted for Master Plo's operation in the Shaltin Tunnels requires a stop near Florum for refueling. There are no alternate stops due to a recent dispute on Zygeria, meaning the one you'd planned is the only option. Unfortunately for everyone, pirates had gotten wind that there was only one feasible stop for Republic-friendly ships, and had threatened the private operators of the fuel depot, in an effort to commandeer the depot, and the profits. The pirates' plan had backfired, and rather than have their fuel in the hands of brigadeers and losing all their money, the fuel depot halted their supply line and closed business to relocate.

This essentially now means that no traffic can flow through the tunnels, but more importantly, it means that the mercy mission Plo had been planning for months to bring supplies to refugees of the Jedi-Zygerian conflict will be cancelled unless you can find a way to convince the fuel depot to reopen, at least temporarily, with the promise of Jedi protection.

It makes sense for him to have asked you. You're the one with the most up-to-date knowledge of navigating the tunnels. And Obi Wan, though still young, is already gaining a reputation as a skilled negotiator. You're the right team, no doubt.

The fact that heading to the Outer Rim will mean several days of hyperspace travel together, on a small ship, with nothing to do but kill time... that's the part that's making you tap your stylus on your data pad, biting your lip as you check your supply list for the seventh time.

At least it won't be just the two of you. Anakin will take up practically all of his time and attention, and while he's training his apprentice, you'll spend all your extra time in your personal quarters. You check the ship's layout again, to locate them.

Oh, wonderful - you have the largest available ship tonight, and there are no private quarters. Just one shared crew-rest room, with bunks built into the interior wall.

It's fine. Who needs privacy, anyway?

You're brought out of your thoughts when you hear Anakin and Obi Wan's voices approaching. It's hard to pinpoint where they are, in the dim light on the other side of the ship. You can hear them both, but Anakin's sounds fainter.

"Master, please, this isn't fair-"

"Fairness has nothing to do with it, young padawan. I need you to hear my words: Your lightsaber is your life. It's not simply another object, to be easily replaced."

"I know that, Master, I know-"

"If you knew, then you wouldn't be arguing."

You watch Obi Wan emerge from the shadows, talking to the small figure he's holding in his hand. Anakin's holoimage is scowling profusely.

"I shouldn't be punished just because my lightsaber got crushed. Something bad already happened to me, and now you're making it worse."

Obi Wan gives you a slight lift of his eyes in greeting as he nears you, bringing the conversation to an end. "Anakin, this is not a punishment, though it is a lesson. You must stay behind to attend the next gathering in a few days. I will not have you join me on a mission without a weapon."

There's a pause, Anakin's mouth screwed up in what you anticipate to be the start of another argument, but he eventually drops his head. "Yes, Master," he grouses, looking to the side.

"Goodnight, Anakin. May the Force aid you on your journey."

"Goodnight, Master," the sullen voice replies as Obi Wan marches past you, entering the cargo bay of the ship and shutting off his comlink.

You follow him inside, a smirk forthcoming despite your apprehension at hearing that Anakin won't be joining you.

Obi Wan sighs tiredly, then turns to look back at you. "Well, is everything ready?"

"It is," you answer, then let your smirk loose. "Anakin's lost another lightsaber? Hopefully he's learning his lesson this time."

"It isn't a lesson," He says dismissively as he strides over to the pilot's controls, pulling up the ship's schematic. "It's a punishment."

You lift your eyebrows in amusement, following him.

"Either way..." you drawl, folding your arms as you lean against the console next to him, datapad hanging casually over your elbow. "Looks like it's just the two of us."

He looks up at you, then back to the screen, and flicks his eyebrows without looking at you to indicate he'd heard what you said. But he doesn't say anything back.

"So," you go on, carefully testing the waters, "I was wondering... should these be on the list, or no?"

You uncross your arms, turning the datapad so he can see the supply list, scrolled to the bottom where the last item reads 'binders'.

He frowns thoughtfully. "I don't forsee any need to take prisoners."

You shift against the console, loosing a breath. Is he intentionally making this difficult?

"Not for that."

"For-" His face drops. "Oh."

"I could... finish what we started," you offer, mustering your boldness.

"N-no," he stammers. You've never heard him stammer in your life. "I don't, uh..." He tilts his chin down, clearing his throat and evening out his tone. "I think we should focus on our mission."

A few long beats pass while you let your eyes dance over his face, working out his expression. He has to be so pent up right now, but you wouldn't know it from looking. You can't blame him, though, for not wanting to try after the most recent, painful denial.

"Okay," you say softly, a small smile in place. "We can focus on the mission."

You go back to studying your checklists as the bay doors close and Obi Wan locks in your coordinates. The lights of Coruscant are soon replaced with the lights of hyperspace, and all your interruptions and excuses are replaced with the cold, quiet hum of an empty ship.

--

Yawning as the caf finishes brewing, you take out one mug from the ship's small galley, and then a second. It's been a long day-cycle. You've both spent some time settling in, putting your supplies and belongings away, and now there's nothing left to do but to wait and to prepare.

Obi Wan has taken his place right back at the pilot's seat, one leg crossed over the other as he flips through screens on his datapad. You bring the two mugs with you as you make your way back over to him. Hooking your finger out from the side of your caf, you press a button on the wall that slides out a chair, and you bump the other mug against Obi Wan's shoulder as you take your seat.

"Caf?"

He glances at it, then hums his appreciation as he takes it from you. "Thank you."

You study him for a moment, then tilt your head. "Well?"

"Yes?" he asks without looking up.

"I thought we could talk about our plan of approach."

He lifts his gaze. "Our plan?"

You were sipping your drink, but you abruptly stop. "The mission?"

He taps the screen in his lap and it goes dark. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I have been tasked with negotiations. There is no need for both of us to be involved."

Your eyebrow wrenches violently upward, but you manage to keep your tone calm. "So, if you're the negotiator, that makes me the... what?"

"Navigator," he finishes easily.

"Navi-" You cut yourself off before you raise your voice. Then you try again. "If I didn't know better, I would say It sounds like you expect me to sit on the ship while you do all the work."

"You don't need to stay on the ship, but if you'll allow me the courtesy of taking the lead..."

Allow him the courtesy. You can't deny his skill in manipulation. He's already crowned himself captain of the team, and now he'll pretend to defer to your authority. You can hardly keep from rolling your eyes. But there's no point in arguing, as long as the job gets done.

You take a long sip to maintain your composure. "Alright. So what is your plan, then?"

He straightens his shoulders, then answers simply, "I haven't got a plan." When you widen your eyes, he quickly adds, "It isn't necessary."

"What do you mean it isn't necessary?"

He sighs, then uncrosses his leg and places his caf on the control panel. "Being overprepared before first contact can often do more harm than good. I don't wish to form any opinions until we meet."

You laugh a little, in disbelief. "You don't want to overprepare, so you make no plans at all?"

"The fuel depot is owned by humans, yet we do not know anything about them. Not what system they hail from, their enemies or allies... The only reliable information is that they seek to make credits, and they don't particularly care for pirates."

"Fine. No direct plan of approach," you allow. "Then why not at least practice some possible scenarios?"

"I would rather not."

"You'd rather not." You shake your head. "Why? Why not let me help you?"

"It just isn't necessary."

You let your irritation collapse into silence. If you were giving anyone else the look you're giving him, they would shrink in discomfort. But he meets your hard stare with one of his own, and you feel your pulse beginning to pound.

"I see now. This is about your ego."

You say it, and you stand up and walk away.

You convince yourself you're giving him the unflinching criticism of the Jedi, pointing out his flaws while not sparing his feelings. But as you turn your back to him, reaching again for the caf to top off your cup, you know you said it not only because it's true, but because it felt good.

"You can believe what you like," he says, and you hear him leave his chair. "But I have my own methods, and you should respect that."

You sniff a short laugh, not looking back at him. "Okay, sure. I'll respect your method of removing me from my own mission."

"That isn't a fair assessment. Each of us have certain strengths-"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" you interrupt. "Don't condescend to me, Obi Wan. You want the satisfaction of knowing you saved the day, again."

"I don't want anything, except to help Master Plo accomplish his goals."

"Unless it means that you don't make all the decisions along the way."

Suddenly, he's beside you, clearly tired of talking to your back. He puts his hand on the countertop next to your mug, and catches your eyes. "I don't find this amusing."

You raise your brows. "I wasn't joking."

"I won't have my integrity questioned."

You turn to him, arms folded. "I wasn't questioning your integrity. I just don't understand why you don't see me as an asset. It seems foolish."

He scoffs. "Of course I see you as an asset. And I am not trying to diminish your abilities-"

"It's funny to hear you insist upon that point, and yet-"

"Stars!" Obi Wan finally shouts over you. Then he rolls his eyes, looking off to the side in exasperation. "Why do you have to be so..."

You blink, startled by his outburst, and suddenly aware that you've slowly backed up against the side wall of the small galley area. You cross your arms tighter, bracing your back against it. "So... what?"

"So..." he trails off, seeming to be searching for the right word. "...abrasive."

"Abrasive?"

"Yes, and difficult," he says, voice softer, but holding an edge that hadn't been there before.

You let the comment hang between you, noting the tension in his jaw. He's still staring at you, unflinching. Usually he would apologize right about now. But when he doesn't back down, you tamp down the thrumming in your chest and take a breath before responding with as neutral a tone as you can manage. "If you find me so abrasive and difficult, then why have we been friends for as long as we have?"

He doesn't reply, just closes his mouth and stares through you. It looks like he's trying to come up with an answer, which makes you bristle.

"Why did you ask me for help with the Nikkama if you can't stand to be around me?" you push.

Your question clearly gets under his skin, and several odd emotions swim through his gaze before he finally answers. "Perhaps that was a mistake."

Your stomach drops. You hadn't expected that, but you won't give him the satisfaction of reacting. You shrug yourself up from the wall, making him back up a little, and slide out of the galley to head back to the crew quarters.

"Well, glad we have that clarified. I'm going to have a rest. If I have permission for that, Captain."

He calls your name as you walk away, and you don't bother to look back, pressing the button to close the door behind you.

--

You emerge from the refresher, towel-drying and still very on-edge, much later.

Alone in the crew quarters, you'd found meditation elusive in your current state, and decided to try a shower to clear your mind. It calmed you down a little, but Obi Wan's words are still needling you as you slide into your underclothes. They're going to be spinning in your head for a long time, you realize. Maybe this was a mistake, after all. Just like he'd said.

The soft fabric slips up your thighs as your towel drops to the floor, and you're just closing up the front of your bodice when the door to the room slides open.

Obi Wan doesn't see you at first, crossing over to where you're standing beside the bunks built into the wall. The lights in the room are turned down from when you'd been trying to meditate. When he looks up and sees you, he stops dead where he stands.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately to the floor. "I heard the refresher and I thought... thought I had time to- to..."

He's already halfway back to the door, not finishing his sentence, when you ask bluntly, "To what?"

"There is a datacard I need," he explains, still looking at the ground. "I will find it later. I apologize."

You scowl, pulling on your loose-flowing pants and tying them off at your waist. "Might as well get it now."

"No, it's not-"

"They're your quarters, too. Just get whatever you need," and get out, you want to add, but you hold your tongue.

He hesitates, then turns without looking at you, walking back to his bunk. He doesn't say a word as you watch him retrieve his bag of personal supplies.

His silence drags on, and you want to get your tunic, but he's standing between you and your bed where it sits. So instead, you watch him dig and pretend not to be feeling as exposed as you are.

"Did you get those files on Cadinth I sent you?" you ask, trying to pass the time.

"I did," he replies, sorting through the bag and not looking up.

"Did you review them?"

He doesn't answer.

"Did you even glance at them?"

"I've said I have the files."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I will get to them."

"When?"

He drops the top of his bag, resting it on the bunk, and looks over at you, keeping his eyes leveled at your face. "I've told you I will read them. Why must you doubt everything I say?"

"Because you're doubting me first," you retort, childishly. "I told you everything I sent was relevant, so why put off reading it?"

"I have a process."

"And everything needs to go according to your plans."

"I could say the same of you."

You feel your cheeks heating, frustration simmering up to a boiling point. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He turns toward you, his task forgotten. "You seem to imply I have a problem with control. Perhaps you should look inward."

"Unbelievable. You're going to turn this on me?"

"I'm simply pointing out-"

"No, you're choosing not to listen. And as usual, you're manipulating things in your favor."

"In my favor?" He takes a few steps toward you as he talks. "Nothing about this situation has been in my favor. On that, you can be assured."

"Which part, exactly, has been so trying for you? Unilaterally planning the mission based on your personal preference? Or just dealing with me? Is that it?"

"Stop trying my patience. You are looking for an argument, and I won't be drawn into it."

Your eyes widen. Then you sneer. "I am so tired of you trying to put me in my place."

He barks an insulted laugh. "I've done no such thing."

"Really?" you ask. "Then tell me, what do you call what you've been doing? I have all the same training and experience as you, and yet I'm not worthy of taking part in your mission? I'm a liability?"

"No," he scowls, tossing a look at the wall like he's trying to gather himself.

"Then what? What am I?"

"A distraction," he spits, instantly, as if it's been on the edge of spilling out of him for quite some time.

Your jaw goes rigid, your head suddenly filled with static. That's the way he views you?

His eyes soften for a moment, and he opens his mouth as if he's about to take it back, but that would only be more insulting - pretending he didn't mean it. You don't want to give him the chance.

"You've always been arrogant, but this is a whole new level."

His scowl deepens. "That is not what I meant. I'm not... not capable of-"

"Of thinking from anyone's point of view but your own?" You huff derisively. "I don't see how any explanation you give would make this less insulting. I'm a Jedi Knight, same as you, Obi Wan, and I deserve the same-"

"Yes, you are!" he bursts out, nearly making you take a step back as he closes the distance between your bodies. "Have you considered behaving like one?"

Your brow pinches, but you're too distracted by him pressing in close to respond properly. "I... what- what are you..."

"You have shown no compassion; no consideration." You see the frustration in his eyes as he closes in. "And I am at your mercy, unfortunately for us both."

"I don't understand what that means," you murmur, still overcome with irritation, but put off-balance now, by the way he's talking.

He glares at you. "Don't- don't play the fool." His gaze slides down to where your clavicle rises and falls, the tops of your breasts spilling over your tight underclothes. He quickly flicks his eyes back up to your face. "It doesn't suit you."

That one look is enough to make you squeeze your thighs together, but it isn't enough to cool your temper. "You're the fool, if you think you can guilt me into following your orders by quoting principles at me."

It shouldn't thrill you so much to watch the corner of his mouth curl in displeasure, but it does.

"You're impossible."

"Oh? The perfect Jedi finally admits he lacks compassion, but only when it comes to me."

"It's not compassion I lack," he grits out.

"Then what is it, Obi Wan?" you ask, practically talking against his mouth.

His lashes flutter as he drops them once, then twice, to your parted lips. But the signals lighting up in your brain have to be wrong, because he can't be thinking of kissing you.

You try, desperately, to get things back on track. But when you speak, your voice comes out as a whisper. "What is it you lack?"

Silence. Silence. Silence. And then - his mouth on yours.

He kisses you deeply, and suddenly all of the fury you'd built up inside is translated into the pent up, raw hunger that it truly is. His hand is holding your jaw, pulling you close, keeping you steady for him to devour. You whimper softly, and he answers the question at last:

"Control."

You exhale, whining against his tongue as he walks you backward, gripping your waist and pressing you down into the lowest bunk. Your hands fly up into his hair, clutching wildly at soft, golden fistfuls, and letting your fingers run down his scalp as he lowers his mouth to your neck. Heat pulses between your legs as he drags his wet mouth over your sensitive skin.

"Fuck," you moan, "This is- we can't... We're not supposed to..."

He groans into your neck, and the sound makes everything in you pull up tight and hot. He closes his mouth over yours again, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You pull him in deeper, your teeth clashing with his as the kiss devolves into something messier, more primal, more urgent.

You roll your hips, needing to feel more of him, and his body eagerly responds. He's stiff in his pants, and feeling him drag against you is making you lose your mind. Your hand instinctively moves to touch him, but he grips your wrist with iron-clad certainty.

"Stop," he says, even as he continues kissing you. "I can't- can't take it."

He presses your hand into the bed until you go limp, and then releases. You bring it up to his face, rubbing your palm along his bearded jaw. "I'll take care of you," you plead into his mouth. "Just let me."

His breath is getting ragged, and when he pulls back, his lips are swollen, bright with color from being sucked and bitten. He shakes his head, brow pinched tight. "I wish that I could, darling, but stars above, just look at you."

Your panting breath cuts off, caught in your throat. You try, but your mind isn't functioning enough to say anything in response.

"If I do not stop now, I won't stop at all." He leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips softly against yours. Then he whispers, floating warm words against your ear, "You'll have me begging to finish inside of you."

Your eyes squeeze shut as you wonder if it's possible to come just from his voice. He nips just below your jaw, then sucks slowly down your neck as you do your best not to writhe out of your clothes.

"And we can't have that, can we?" he rumbles at the side of your throat.

It takes every last drop of your willpower to shake your head, but you do it.

"N-no."

No. You agree. Of course not.

But... fucking why, again?

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment or message me to be added to the taglist :)

Taglist: @slinkygail @wheres-mylove @millercontracting @cacti5539 @b0xerdancer-writes @spcecadet6

Masterlist

[pearlcigs]

thinking about reader doing abby’s hair…from there who knows

⋆ lover

abby's eyes closed in content, sighing with nothing but satisfaction. your fingers brushing through her wavy hair. blonde hair wrapped around the hair tie on your wrist from the sheer amount of use abby had put it through. it was stretched out by now, needing 4 loops every time she braided her hair instead of the 3 she needed when she first acquired the hair tie. she argued that it was fine, still usable until the elastic physically snapped in half. you simply laughed, not wasting energy on arguing over something so mundane. if she wanted to used a worn down hair tie then so be it.

the dirty blonde strands felt smooth between your fingers, encountering a few knots every so often. you brushed them out sweetly, careful not to hurt her. you sectioned her hair into three parts. "you're s' gentle." she mutters, almost falling asleep from the feeling of someone playing with her hair. a feeling she hadn't felt since a child. "well i don't wanna rip out all your hair." you respond, small smile on your face. you begin to braid her hair, doing your best to do it just like she does. she had taught you how to braid. of course, you had some knowledge before meeting her but your execution was sloppy and loose hair strands were everywhere, according to abby.

she spent a long time teaching you, even when you got the hang of it, letting you practice on her. though, every time she would always cockily remind you that she was much better at it with a playful tone. though, of course, she treasured every time you did her hair. even when she first started teaching you and it looked... well not the best, she still admired the woven pattern in her hair. because even though it wasn't perfect, you did it. it meant she got to carry around a part of you with her. "jus' feels good." she mutters again, practically already snoring.

you had to admit, it was early. the sun not even risen yet, though the birds were awake. chirping to each other, perhaps caring for each other in the same way you and abby were. "yeah? don't fall asleep on me." you joke, but your voice was soft, offering her quietness if she really did want to fall asleep." "i'm not." she retorted, sitting up straighter to now just proof her point. you laugh at her stubbornness, pulling the hair tie off your wrist and tying off the braid at the bottom to keep it secure. "all done, loser." she looks back at you.

"who're you calling a loser?" she grabs your sides, fingers tickling your sensitive waist and pins you down on the bed. you laugh of course, and abby joins along, fingers slowing to a stop as she leans down to kiss your lips, chapstick residue transferring to her lips. "think you did a decent job this time." she smirks against your lips, never passing up the opportunity to mess with you. you roll your eyes, unamused by her mean teasing. "watch it before i give you something to roll your eyes about." she brushes your hair out of your face. "is that a promise or a threat?"

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The attacks did not stop at the one.

After the third attack, Lucifer decided it was time to take a more proactive approach. Knowing that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, was at the Hotel and more than willing to literally eat their attackers alive wasn't serving as enough of a deterrent.

It looked like they were going to need a bigger reminder about who all resided in the hotel.

Unfortunately, they didn't know who was behind the attacks. Lucifer had snagged someone during each of the attacks, and each time, the story was the same: the group had received a call to go roughen up the residents of the hotel, but no names were ever given.

It was smart. Annoying, but smart.

Frustrated, Lucifer tossed the last of this round of goons to Alastor (and if the action mimicked tossing a dog a treat, well, no one had called him on it, yet). The redhead hummed in pleasure at his work, the sound somehow soothing rather than grating through his radio filter.

The King of Hell watched him, considering. Their opponent knew Alastor was here. Was wary enough of him not to give them any names. The skill levels of the goons were getting better, but they were still no match, really, for either of them.

The only one he truly knew to any capacity was Alastor, and he doubted the redhead was behind this. Alastor wasn't about to undermine the hotel he was so very obviously invested in, even if it was only for his own 'entertainment.'

It was most likely it was another one of those Overlords. Lucifer had only met a couple of them. Hadn't really paid attention to the politics since the system was just starting to get off the ground. He knew Carmilla Carmine for all that he hadn't seen her in nearly two decades. Their connection had been deliberately buried until only Carmilla, Lilith, and himself knew about it anymore.

He had met Zestial, only the once, but that had been back when the spider Overlord was young and new to his position. That must have been... three or four hundred years ago?

Which meant that enlisting Alastor's help was his best bet, something he absolutely did not want to do. Lucifer had managed to avoid anything more than a gentleman's agreement the last time they'd done anything transactional because Alastor had wanted his chance at a pound of flesh more than he wanted to escalate the tensions between them.

Asking for his help with an investigation, something that was going to take potentially a large amount of time and energy, was going to be costly.

Lucifer grimaced. At this stage, he was going to have to try it keep any transactions as one-off as possible. One time deals with a clear give and take. No loop holes or vague details.

Alastor, who had returned back to his usual form, watched him, having picked up on the change in mood. He appeared to be in a good mood, having just had a rather large meal and all.

Well, no better time to do this.

Lucifer lightly touched down in front him, just out of arm's reach. The distance seemed to amuse the deer demon, further adding to the hypothesis that he was closer to an agreeable mood than usual.

"May I speak with you. In private?" Lucifer grit his teeth, but forced out a polite, "Please?"

Alastor considered him. "I assume it's about this latest round of nonsense?"

"Yes, but." Lucifer glanced behind him. Charlie and the rest of the residents were watching them from the doorway, always ready to step in if needed. He turned back to the redhead. "I would prefer to have this discussion in private. If you feel better with it, we can discuss it in your room."

It was probably a little telling, giving up the familiar ground again, but he felt it was still the most likely place to keep Alastor agreeable.

Alastor hummed, placing his hands behind his back as he began the short walk back to the hotel. Lucifer came up to walk beside him, keeping his distance but forced to stay a little closer for the sake of privacy.

The redhead's smile was knowing, aware of what he was doing. "Very well, your Magesty. Perhaps after we send everyone back on their way?"

It was a subtle way of asking how public Lucifer wanted anyone to know about their meeting. "Later tonight, after everyone has gone to bed."

People were likely going to see them working together at some point, but he'd rather postpone that mess as long as possible.

Alastor's smile took on a hint of teeth, eyes half lidded with the promise of seeing something amusing. "I look forward to our chat, then."

Oh, Lucifer bet he did.

Lucifer put it out of his mind, surrendering himself to Charlie's inspection. The wound to his hand was long gone and not even a concern any more, but it seemed his daughter was still shaken by the fact that her father was just as vulnerable to Angelic Steel as her girlfriend was.

He spent the majority of the rest of the day in her company, something that had brought her comfort after the last fight, only escaping her clutches when she and Vaggie decided to call it a night.

"Night, Dad! Remember to take it easy tonight," she called over to him as she headed out.

Lucifer and Vaggie shared a look. The latter, taking pity on the former, took hold of Charlie's arms and began leading her away. "Yes, yes, he got the message. You're smothering him."

Lucifer heard his daughter gasp and he caught a glimpse of a fretting expression on her face before she was led around the corner. "He needs fretting!" he thought he heard her exclaim before she was too far out of earshot.

The blond knew he had a dopey smile on his face, but he was just so happy to get to spend as much time with her as he had been getting lately. He just wanted to soak it all up before she got tired of him and no longer needed him anymore.

"You need anything else, sir?"

Lucifer twisted around to face the bar, remembering the drink in his hand. He'd felt like something non-alcoholic tonight (he needed all of his wits to survive tonight), and since a wider variety of drinks had been added to the menu, he'd thought he'd indulge. "Nah, but thanks, Husk. Don't stay up on my account. I'll clean my glass before I leave."

The winged cat grunted. He finished up the final glass he'd been cleaning, placing it with the others. "Don't have to tell me twice. Night, sir."

Lucifer waved him off. They really did need to work on the 'sir' part, but Husk was as stubborn as the rest of them.

The hotel began to settle as one hour passed, then the next. When he could no longer hear and movement, he downed the rest of his drink. It didn't taste as good at room temperature, but there was no need to waste it. A little twirl of his finger and a touch of magic, the glass was as good as new.

He placed the glass in its designated spot behind the counter. He took a deep, steading breathe, resisting the urge to put this off. Better to get it over with.

Red smoke swirled around him as he transported him straight out of the lobby and up to Alastor's room. He didn't want to take any chances that someone would see him coming and going. He reappeared as close to the entrance of the room as he could, as to not impolite intrude more than he already was. Normally, he wouldn't care, but, again. Playing nice.

He looked around until he spotted his quarry over by the fireplace, still fully dressed as normal and sipping who knew what.

"Ah, sire, I was beginning to wonder if you'd keep me waiting." Alastor gestured to the small table set out between his chair and a second chair to entertain guests. "You'll have to forgive me. Your tea has likely gone cold, but I expected you an hour ago." His smile wasn't sorry in the least.

Well, so much for being in an agreeable mood.

Lucifer crossed the room to the vacant chair. He dropped into it, ignoring the drink. He wouldn't have accepted anything from the cannibal at this stage in their acquaintance anyway. "I'd like some information on the current Overlords."

Alastor placed his cup on the saucer resting on his lap. "Ah! Straight to business. Good, man." The redhead looked his guest up and down. "And what have you to offer in exchange for this information?"

Lucifer settled into his seat, crossing one leg over the other, as he lounged to the side. His elbow came to rest on the arm rest. "You tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I'm willing to pay it."

Alastor's eyes took on a golden glow, pupils morphing into dials. "You'll uphold the bargain, even if I don't have all the information you want?"

He hated to do it, but, "Yes."

The deer demon leaned forward. "This will be a binding deal, not an agreement."

Just as he thought. The blond responded, again, "Yes."

Alastor's body language shifted. Something sinister, never quite buried and never hidden well rising to the surface. Lucifer could almost see him considering his options, weighing each one in turn.

Finally, he settled on, "Your blood, taken at a time of my choosing."

Lucifer didn't wince, although he wanted to. He sighed, nodding. "One time. No ongoing feedings. We don't do it in public. If I need anything else from you after this, we can negotiate any terms at that time."

Alastor placed his cup and saucer on the table. "Also, you take on that delightful deer form of yours, and I get to feed until I'm full. No retaliation."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him, noting the word 'full.' "Can you actually get full? I know you're not a real windigo, but I can see the influences."

A red tipped claw waved the concern off. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, I am not a 'bottomless pit.'" Alastor did not actually use finger quotes around the phrase, which he seemed to find distasteful, but Lucifer heard them anyway. Someone had used this phrase against him in the past. "It simply takes a rather large meal to sate my appetite."

His grin widened with anticipation and a touch of excitement. "Whatever you seraphim are made of, your blood was exceptionally potent! I was very nearly full off of it all by itself."

Lucifer shuddered, even as he matched Alastor's grin with near manic one of his own. He certainly hoped it would be. Fallen or not, he was still one of his father's most powerful creations. "Your terms are acceptable."

Alastor held out his hand, the shadows that made up his magic unnaturally darkening the room. The stitches along his coat and smile cast a sickly green glow across his person. "I take it we have a deal?"

Lucifer felt his true form come over him. He didn't allow himself to hesitate. He reached out and took the Radio Demon's hand.

"Deal."

Shadows lit by green symbols spread out across the room and down into the hotel. The foundation creeked with the power of the binding being cast around the deal makers. If this had been the original building, it would have crumbled.

(Down in their rooms, the other residents shifted uneasily in their sleep. Husk, the only one still awake, stared at the ceiling in grim trepidation as evidence of his master's newest deal lit up his room.)

The magic faded away as they drew their hands away. Lucifer could feel the weight of the chain settle around his neck. Could see the other end of it wrapping around Alastor's hands, laying in wait for him to call in it.

It was not the most pleased he'd ever seen the Radio Demon, but it was close.

Alastor, sometimes capable of pretending to be meciful, let the chain disappear. He picked back up his drink, prompting, "You had some questions, your Majesty?"

Lucifer pressed his lips together briefly. He hated the way Alastor said his title on a good day. Knew he did it just to annoy him. Usually, he let it slide. Perhaps it was the new weight around his throat and the delight in every line of Alastor's body that made it grate this time.

He forced himself to relax.

"Tell me about the current Overlords. The territories they hold. What alliances they have."

Alastor leaned back in his own seat, making himself comfortable. "Well, if we're going to talk about anyone, we must start the esteemed, Zestial..." The radio host indeed proved to be knowledgeable in this area, providing concise and easy to follow information whenever Lucifer asked for clarification.

For instance: "Carmilla Carmine?" Lucifer had had ample practice with pretending he had never the Overlord. There was nothing in his tone to give it away. "She was the one that provided the weapons Angel and the others used, yes?"

"Yes." Alastor tilted his head to the side. "I must admit, I'm a little surprised you're not more concerned about how much Angel Steel there is laying around. It might be expensive, but it's certainly everywhere. Isn't it a danger to you and your daughter?"

It was only the fact that there wasn't any audible malice to the question, just the sense that the redhead was poking to see if Lucifer would be willing to share the information, that held his knee jerk response in check. This was, indeed, a Q&A for Lucifer to question and Alastor to answer. There was little reason to give anything away in this instance.

Ultimately, the blond settled on letting him have this, as the redhead had already seen him bleed.

Lucifer held up the hand that had been impaled. Alastor's eyes followed the movement, focusing in on the line of slightly lighter grey that was all that remained of the wound. It was darker than it had been just yesterday and would be darker still tomorrow. "Angelic Steel holds little threat to me or to Charlie." It might have, had she been a Nephilim born of the union between an ordinary angel and human, but as one born of a seraphim and the first woman? Not a chance. "It can hurt us, but it's little more of an inconvenience."

Now, if someone where to get their hands on Charlie's trident and attack her with it? Well. No one needed to know that.

Alastor made that humming noise he made when he was digesting a new tidbit of information. He picked up his narrative, going on to explain the alliance between himself and various other Overlords. From the way he spoke of her, Lucifer got the impression that Alastor actually liked this 'Rosie' character, while he just as clearly did not like the Vees, which was apparently the handle for a group of three separate Overlords.

He didn't realize he knew more Overlord names than he thought he did, until he recognized another name. "Valentino. He's the one that Angel has a contract with?"

Alastor nodded. "Yes. To my understanding, Valentino owns Angel's soul, but can only exert any control over him while in the studio. Seems a silly little loop hole, if you ask me."

The nonchalance, the so little care for Angel's clear suffering was a stark reminder that Alastor himself was an Overlord with his own souls. Lucifer frowned at him, a little of his contempt bleeding into his tone, as he accused, "A loop hole I'm sure you'd never allow your own souls, hm?"

Alastor laughed. "Ha ha! Oh no! Not at all. Any soul I own, it's total and complete." He smirked back in the face of Lucifer's disgust. "But I mostly deal with favors, more so than souls. I like to do little things for others, and later, at a time of my choosing, they do something for me." His expression grew thoughtful. "Why, cashing in a few of my favors is how I got that silly little advertisement for the hotel on the air. I'm sure you've gotten around to seeing it by now, yes?"

Lucifer felt his irritation simmering below the surface. Only allowed the sharpening of the claws he wanted to use to wipe that smug little grin off Alastor's face be the only indication of it. He pushed the conversation on, instead of letting the sinner have the point. "And do you hold territory?"

The Radio Demon held up his hands to bring attention the room as a whole. "Oh, nothing like that. My tower is more than enough, although I do get a bit possessive with the hotel itself, since I've invested so much time and energy into it." He pointed to the radio on the shelf behind him. "I don't really need more when I can reach anywhere with a radio on hand. My favors owed do a great deal of the work of covering any gaps in my coverage."

Lucifer remembered him mentioning he had a talk show. Now that it was brought up, he recalled seeing several of the old fashioned radios around the hotel. Charlie had one in her room and there was one in the main foyer. He had been thinking of adding one into his room, but hadn't gotten around to it.

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that was a great idea. Perhaps he could sneak out the one in Charlie's room the next time he was in there?

He gestured for the other to continue. When Alastor finished, Lucifer took a moment to chew on the information he had been given. It was a good start, better than where he was at the beginning of the day. But it didn't really narrow anything down.

"Do you know of anyone in particular who might feel threatened by what the hotel is trying to accomplish?"

Alastor laughed, finding the question a bit absurd. "Any of us might find it threatening, my dear king. Our deals and our reputations are our most powerful tools. The possibility that souls can be redeemed means that those deals might be broken which threatens our power."

Lucifer supposed it was too easy, if there had been an simple response to that question. Alastor surprised him, though, when he added, "Really, I don't know why anyone is worried about the hotel, when supposedly you're a bigger threat yourself."

The blond frowned, attention sharpening. "What? Me? What do I have to do with any of that?"

Alastor's posture was as languid as it had been since he had settled in. Nothing on the surface seemed to have changed, but Lucifer could feel the weight of his gaze as he explained, "Oh, you know. That silly legend that's been hanging around."

Lucifer blinked at him, baffled. "What legend?"

"The one that says you can break deals."

Unbidden, a memory rose to the surface. Of himself standing above a sinner kneeling at the base of his throne. The sound of the shattering of their chain and the tinkling sound as the links hit the floor - once, twice - and then vanished. It had been the last time he'd ever interfered in the drama between sinners. Lucifer blinked, the memory vanishing like smoke.

He almost dismissed it. Almost let the truth die and remain a myth. Something about the way Alastor was watching him held him back. Whispered: this is important.

Telegraphing the movement, the Devil raised his free hand. Seeing he had the Radio Demon's full attention, he flicked the chain that represented their Deal, putting a little power into it to force the chain to materialize.

Alastor jolted, spine straightening and ears standing on end, half looking like he had received an electric shock.

Lucifer lowered his hand, letting the chain disappear. "I can't break deals I've made, if that's what you're worried about."

The redhead rolled the wrist his end of the chain was wrapped around, trying to work some feeling back into the suddenly numb limb. He still looked amused, but only by the skin of his teeth. "Come now, it's like you think I was accusing you of being dishonorable!" He visibly pulled his undaunted mask back into place. "I was merely asking if you could break other people's deals!"

Uh huh. Sure he was.

Still. With the same level of casualness, Lucifer straightened from his slouch. Dominant hand freed, he used it to reach out and pluck a different chain right out of thin air.

Alastor's eyes widened fully from the normal half-lidded state. One side of the chain was wrapped around the redhead's wrist, showing him the owner of the Deal. The other side trailed off under the door and out of the room.

If one were to follow it to its other end, they would have found themselves standing outside of Husk's door.

Lucifer watched Alastor, the latter's eyes glued to the former's grip on the chain. Anticipation was evident in Alastor's expression, but it was a little harder to parse out the other emotion in there.

Hope.

But hope of what?

Lucifer tightened his grip, testing the strength (Alastor's strength) of the Deal. The links creaked and groaned under his own power and he found that it would be easy to break them.

Instead of breaking them, however, he released the chain instead.

Alastor's left ear twitched, expression growing rigid, as if he had forgotten he was being watched. Something related to disappointment, but not quite, crossed it before curiosity took it's place. "You didn't break it?"

"Husk is an adult and he made his own choices. Contrary to popular belief, I do appreciate consequences." Perhaps Lucifer would be willing to change his stance on the subject in the future - he was growing attached to the members of the hotel, besides Charlie and Vaggie, by default. He certainly would if Charlie ever asked him to. "Besides, I'm not in the market to make anymore of an enemy out of you tonight than you already are."

There was that familiar amusement again. "Oh? Does that mean I'm growing on you, sire?"

Lucifer shuddered, waving the idea away like the smell of it was something foul and putrid, which only seemed to amuse Alastor some more. "Er, no. Absolutely not. Father, you're so lucky Charlie likes you."

"Indeed." Alastor looked to the clock on top of his fireplace, which drew Lucifer's attention to it.

Egad, Lucifer thought to himself as he saw the time, when did it get so late?

"Did you have any other questions for me, sire?"

Lucifer was both closer to his goal and yet further away from it than when they started. It did indeed seem like an Overlord was responsible for the attacks, but it was unlikely that this line of inquiry would bear any more fruit.

He sighed. He didn't like what he was about to do, but it had to be done anyway. "No, I don't have any future questions at this time."

Both sides felt the redhead's side of the Deal closing, Alastor's end fulfilled. His hands flexed around the feel of the chain and then settled. Perfectly polite, he said, "Splendid! Fancy doing business with you. You don't mind if we call this a night, then?"

Lucifer didn't want to poke that bear, but he couldn't help but ask: "You're not going to cash in your deal tonight?"

The Radio Demon looked at him, knowing he was really asking it so that they could get it over with as soon as possible. "Nonsense! I've already eaten a hardy meal today." Alastor grinned from ear to ear, looking for all the world like he was talking about a 5 Star restaurant's menu and not about drinking someone's blood straight from the source. "I'd much rather reserve this meal to a time I could enjoy it to the fullest."

Lucifer grimaced. Cannibals. Either way, the desire to not have those teeth in this neck tonight won over the need to get this over with and he decided that he was not, in fact, going to look that gift horse in the mouth that night. "Whelp, good talk!" The little king sprung to his feet. To avoid turning his back on the creature that literally had license to take a bite out of him, he decided he was just going to portal out. "Uh, let me know when you want to, uh, do the thing."

As he portalled out, he heard Alastor drawl, tone heavy with dark promise, "I most certainly will."

tbc

Part 6

[hoffmansnightmare]

Alright, now that I've had some sleep and time to process I can tell about how I met Costas Mandylor! Pics included!

Things went smoothly for the most part! The con is in my hometown and only a short drive. I was very excited but also super anxious! I'd had the art I'd drawn printed out and planned to buy another print for Costas to sign. Every scenario was running through my head, that'd he'd hug me and I'd make it weird, that he wouldn't hug me and just sign my things and then I'd feel bad I hadn't gotten a hug. Or maybe he'd ask me about the art, which I didn't really want to explain that it was from the fanfic I'm writing.

I tried to run through any responses that didn't make me sound like a total FREAK, or what'd I'd say to him in general. We got there at 2:30 and early entry wasn't until 4:30, but I knew from past experiences that it was best to try to line up as early as possible, so my husband, who was there mostly for moral support, and I went inside and for sure there was a line for registration started. At 3 they started checking us in and giving us our badges. We were pretty close to the front so I was feeling pretty good.

I didn't know how popular Costas was going to be. The last person I waited for was Robert Englund, and I waited 6 and a half hours just for him, and with the new movies bringing in more fans I wasn't sure how long of a wait I was in for and I wanted to be as close to the front as possible. Brad Dourif was also there so I was hoping he would be drawing most of the attention, and he was, but I was still nervous. We waited in another line for the celebs and we were right outside the door so I was feeling pretty confident at this point. C.J. Graham came out a few times to tease some of those waiting in line and to wonder the convention floor. I get the feeling that man has a hard time sitting still.

Then the doors open and half of the celebs weren't there. Now I do not blame them. I get the feeling that the staff of the con had some poor communication. I also met Dina Meyer, and her the staffer that was meant to sit with her wasn't there yet and she had to take money herself. I got her signature while I waited for Costas and she was very nice! Now the wait for Costas really started. I wasn't interested in many of the other celebrities. I did stop by Michael Ironside's booth because I'm a big V fan and Ham Tyler was one of my favorite's. He was behind as well, even when he got there we had to wait for them to get properly set up. Apparently they hadn't even been given his banner to put up. When he asked if I wanted it with my name him and my staffer looked up at with curiously and the staffer said "suspiciousssss"

"N-no! I just don't like my name on these things!" 😅 He probably thought I was going to sell it. I'm not Michael Ironside I swear!

With both Dina's and Michael's signatures a line had started at Costas's booth, so we mozied back over there to wait for him. Occasionally I'd look back at the massive line for Brad Dourif (who also wasn't there yet) and be glad I wasn't in that line. I'd done it for Robert Englund and could now rest in peace.

Around 5:30 someone shouted, "there he is!" And there he was! Just like that! I was suddenly looking at Costas Mandylor in person and he looked so excited to be there. I was third in line and I was really feeling the anxiety now. My fingertips were tingly and I was shaky on my feet. I have trouble asking for help at the grocery store, let alone face one of my favorite actors from some of my favorite movies. He was all smiles and high energy. I watched the woman right in front of me get a hug and he kissed her on both cheeks. Now not only was I worried about a hug, but would he kiss me too? I turned to my husband and said "if he does that you will be carrying my out of here."

My husband replies "nah if you faint he can carry you out of here"

He was kidding, but I wasn't. Hugs are a lot for me and a kiss on the cheek probably would have done me in. (I also had the horrible thought later that would have tried to kiss him on the lips out of instinct. I wouldn't have survived the embarrassment)

It was my turn and I was trying to keep it together, but I was shaking and trying to keep breathing. I'd handed my money to my husband to pay, as I didn't think I could sort through the bills, and then I was facing Costas, setting my art down in front of him.

He smiled up at me. "You drew this?"

"Yes!" I said, excited that he seemed impressed and also dreading any questions about it.

He complimented the art. I can't remember exactly what he said. I was like, in outer space in that moment.

"Do you want me to write anything? Personalize it with your name?" He asked next.

His voice his CRAZY nothing would have prepared me for hearing it in person and directed at me.

"Could you write "Congratulations"? It's a weird thing but that's what I'd like." I never get my name put on these things. I don't like my name that much and no one spells it right. It's not that hard of one but my spelling is apparently unpopular. He looked up at me and I think he was curious. Or maybe he knew I was a freak, but he smirked and wrote it for me anyway.

"Do you want my character name too?"

"Yes please!"

Once he was done he slid the second copy of the art I'd set down in front of him and asked "who do I make this one out to?"

"Oh no, that one is for you."

He looked confused, so I put it closer to him. "I printed this one out to give you."

He said "Oh!" Then looked at it. "You didn't sign it! If you're going to give me art sign it! And say something nice about me too!" And he set the sharpie in front of me.

I could have evaporated right there. I took the sharpie and wrote my signature as well as my full name and tried frantically to think of something quick I could write.

I landed on "You're my favorite Jigsaw" and when I handed it back to him for him to read he looked up at me with the sweetest expression. And I was absolutely honest. He is my favorite Jigsaw. He set it down behind him with a thank you and I set down the print I'd bought from his table.

Again I asked for just his signature. He pulled out a gold sharpie that was a little dry. "I hate dry markers" and he whipped it behind him dramatically as he watched me giggle at his antics. His staffer whipped out an entire case of markers and he picked up a fresh one "they ruin the signatures! Now I'm going to write a line I say in the next movie, I'm not even supposed to tell anyone, but I'll write it for you."

I was giddy and giggling the entire time at this point as I watched him write. I'm sure he's written for others, he's signed so many things for people at this point, but I still felt a little special. And I'm going to edit the pic to keep it to myself still just in case, but the fact that he still wanted to write something a little extra for me was so sweet.

Now it was time for the picture. I was shaking. A staffer volunteered but my husband insisted on taking the pictures. He's protective and wanted to make sure I got good ones. Costas put his arm around me and I put my around around his back and just focused on the camera. Then for the second picture Costas wrapped both arms around me and I was weak in the knees.

After the second picture he squeezed me tight. He said some things. Again I can't remember. Mercifully he didn't kiss me. On one hand of course that would have been amazing, on the other I really don't know if I could have handled it with any grace (or I might have fumbled it and wanted to die). I do remember him saying "you take care of yourself." In the most sincere way I'd ever heard those words spoken. And "I hope you see the new movie."

I said "of course and I can't wait to see you." And stepped back as my husband approached, and because I'm a total awkward weirdo I gestured at him and told Costas "this is my husband."

My husband is a big guy, 6'3" and visibly strong. Costas looks up at him with a big smile and holds his hand out for a shake, which my husband returns. Costas looks at me, still grinning and said "you have a strong husband."

I laughed. "I know"

Our time with him had to come to an end and I had to ESCAPE. The hyperventilating had started and I needed to get out of the crowd. We escaped the celeb room. I put my precious prints in the car and we shifted our focus to food.

The rest of the day was exploring the rest of the con! My time meeting Costas was amazing and I definitely want to see him again in the future. I'm staying home the rest of the con. I could go see him again but honestly I don't like being perceived that much and I don't want him thinking anything weird about me (he probably wouldn't but I'd feel so self conscious.) I'll see him again at a later con, but for now I'm content with meeting him this time.

Below are my signed pictures! I had Dina sign a third copy of my art that I'll probably fill up with other Saw actors. The Michael print has "Hey Gooder" on it teehee!

[queenburd]

happy 4/32 my friends. i wanted to get a bigger thing out, but it sadly isn't done, so instead, here is the first part to it. self contained and foreboding. 8)

formatting may be broken on tumblr. i will be crossposting this to ao3 shortly, with slightly tidier formatting optimistically.

if you like this fic, please check me out on ao3!

-

Stanley is frowning pensively at his computer, chin rested on folded hands. He has not exited his office yet, too lost in his own thoughts while his eyes flick across the black screen.

THE STANLEY PARABLE 12: Forgotten Pantry The Original Tax Disk It's Either Me or the Didgeridoo Baby Ice Hidden Paperwork Wacky Tuesday | Confirm |

As the sequel number suggests, this is not the first time Stanley has seen this screen. It is, however, the first time he has really sat and thought about what he is looking at. The first time he has tried to understand what it means.

Stanley takes a deep, shaking breath.

“Stanley? Is everything okay? You've been in there for rather a lot longer than I was expecting.”

He nearly jumps in his seat, head snapping to face the door. The Narrator is peeking at him from around the corner guilelessly, expression beginning to shift into concern at the reaction he receives. His eyes flick from Stanley's face to the screen, confusion visible in the quirk of his mouth.

“What's going on?”

The Narrator steps into the office to examine the monitor, and both of them watch, with growing anxiety, as the display disappears without warning.

A palpable tension fills the silence. In the reflection of his dark monitor, Stanley watches the Narrator's gaze move from it to him.

“S...Stanley, what the hell just happened?”

Stanley swallows.

It's not that he wants to keep this from the Narrator—he just doesn't know where to even begin.

-

The first time Stanley was given a prompt on his computer was the same run that the New Content door appeared in place of door 416. He had intended to ask the Narrator about the screen asking him to set the clock, but then—well. They'd both become a bit...occupied.

Since then, the command had appeared sporadically after a reset, without any pattern behind it. And—And Stanley had just assumed, for whatever reason, that it was another small addition the Narrator had created for the “sequel” content. Something to make Stanley feel like he was doing something new, to make him happy.

He doesn't think he's a foolish person, usually, but thinking back on when he first started getting prompts on his computer monitor—how he in the moment would set the time without really thinking about the action—Stanley feels like he should have paid closer attention to what he was doing. What the white font was saying.

Help. | Yes | | No |

Why had he not thought about this? Why had he just taken it at face value? Why had he never noticed the tone, the writing pattern? Why had he not questioned its comments?

He hadn't realized he'd been interacting with someone new until he'd found the monitor in a dark room under the sand-filled Memory Zone, and, well, considering Stanley's state of mind at the time--

--he doesn't want to be alone, in this wasteland. He knows in the end what he's going to choose, and he hates that he does--

--it's understandable that he'd had other priorities. It's completely reasonable that Stanley had not, in his emotional state, tried to learn more about the mysterious white font that spoke about the Narrator in the third person, and seemed to have as much power or more than the voice ever had.

He'd come back a wreck. The Narrator had worked to help him recover, distracting and comforting Stanley in turns, and that had been the end of it, hadn't it?

(Except Stanley had gone back to the Achievement Machine, and the Narrator had sounded terribly afraid. Stanley had thought about sand, and sand, and sand, and he had kept it to himself as to not make things all the worse.)

Look, all this is in the past. It's been ages, really, since the Epilogue, and since then he and the Narrator have found a good routine that works for them. Stanley plays the game, the Narrator berates him for his choices in a voice that's exceptionally exasperated and fond in turns, and life goes on. A good eighty percent of the time, the fellow does this in person, hand in his own and smile undisguised.

They are happy, mostly. Sometimes there are hurdles, sometimes there are meltdowns and arguments and hard conversations, but honestly, genuinely, Stanley is happy.

But then this screen pops up, after god knows how many runs, and Stanley finds that it concerns him.

“And suddenly, I'm thinking about the scope of this world again, and my place inside it. The realities versus the impressions. I start to think about all of my assumptions, all of the many things I used to take for granted, things you and I spent so long at each other's throats over!”

The Stanley Parable cannot end. It can only spiral in on itself, forever.

I must keep the wheel turning.

A wheel, ever turning. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Don't stop playing the game. Drag your counterpart back when he's finally pulled himself free, and watch him do the same to you.

He should have paid attention. He should have told the Narrator. He should have done something, right?

But what, exactly, can he do? What power does he have here? How does Stanley figure this one out?

-

Across from him, the Narrator stares into the middle distance, hand pressed over his chin and mouth while he thinks aloud.

“Okay, so I guess we have an answer to that Machine starting to work, so that's one mystery solved. Granted, it doesn't really answer the how, but I'm starting to think it's similar to the Museum issue, where certain files are just completely inaccessible to me for gameplay reasons. You don't suppose this has anything to do with her, do you?”

Stanley shakes his head. The voice in the Museum has never interacted with him outside of that space, and the tone of the prompts has never seemed much like her, anyway.

“No, I suppose that would be too easy. Too straightforward of an answer, and we can't have that,” the fellow says sardonically, sighing. He rubs his forehead. “This one's on me, I think, for finally thinking I understood the ins and outs of the Parable. It just keeps throwing surprises at us, and really, we should know better.”

Stanley shrugs, slumped in his chair and rolling over what feels a bit like shame in his stomach. He's just as liable, for not thinking anything of it; for getting kind of complacent. They're both prone to being a bit stupid.

“Your job is to press buttons, Stanley, you've never needed to work with a full toolkit.”

He makes a face at the somewhat-crooked smile directed at him, but the attempt at normalcy is appreciated.

“Well, I don't know what much else there really is to do about this. Whatever it is, it hasn't been malicious at all, so even if it is an actual entity and not just, er, another feature, then we have to assume it's... fine?”

So, what, just... continue on like none of this happened?

The Narrator sighs again, before he straightens from where he's been leaned on Stanley's desk. “I don't know what else we can do. Unless you have any bright ideas.”

...no, not at the moment. He'd probably think on it at least, but if the Narrator isn't going to worry about it, then it's likely out of Stanley's hands too. He stands and stretches, placing a hand on the fellow's shoulder.

He's sorry, again, that he didn't bring this up. But he's glad to see that the Narrator is, by all accounts, taking this pretty well?

“Stanley,” the fellow says, smiling tightly at him, “I am freaking out right now.”

Oh. Um. He kneads his fingers into the Narrator's shoulder in a weak attempt at comfort. A hand lifts and covers his own.

“I'm not upset with you, Stanley. I just wish I had answers for you.”

He nods, and leads the fellow out of his office by the shoulder. Come on. Let's go find a distraction. Door 430, maybe?

“Yes, that... That sounds nice. Thank you, Stanley.”

[zaidthefeederist]

Giving in to gluttony : A fit to fat story (part 1)

We were both at the gym after work just like most days. This is where we first met. I saw you on the squat rack and was enamored by your beauty (and the perfect ass you had definitely helped). I approached you and we went on a date and had been dating since then. Though we both were fitness freaks (i still am) there's a part of me i haven't told you about. A part of me that would rather have you tied up in my bed sporting a fat belly so big it hangs to your knees. I've kept it in check for as long as i can, you had only gained 10 pounds in our 4 months together and a lot of that has been muscle definition since we started working out. Today however, it all changes. One faithful injury changes everything.

"This….freaking….sucks" I say grumpy as I sit next to you in the car. We just came back from the first aid room. I look at my leg and shake my head "no lifting, no cardio…and no rock climbing for 6 months?!" I cross my arms and sigh "That also means I really have to watch what I eat…else I end up like one of those fat girls at the gym" The other day we had been making jokes about a chubby girl that was struggling to do basic cardio

"god i know baby, its not fair at all. Not having you at the gym is going to make me lose all my motivation, not to mention who else will i make fun of the fatties with" i look to you after we both laugh to ourselves.."dont worry though babe. ill take good care of you, You know i've been making myself a better and better cook. Ill make sure your diet goes exactly according to plan.." i say as i keep my hand on your toned thigh, giving it a rub and feeling ecstatic and the though of having a home bound girlfriend for 6 whole months.

**2 weeks later**

"im so bored" I sigh before taking another cookie that you made me. "Im usually at the gym right now" Another cookie goes into my stomach. I dont seem to notice the little bit of pudge that was pressing on to my waistband when I sat down like this. You had noticed that I did a lot of "boredom eating"…and recently…I had also started snacking when I was stressed or feeling a little down.

"Im done babe!" i yell, having baked another batch of cookies. The last 2 weeks have been heavenly. Turns out when liz is left to her own devices with nothing else to do, she becomes rather peckish. Its nothing insane yet but she'll never say no to a little treat every now and then. With the absence of the gym and with me making sure to always make every meal of hers just a bit more heavy, she's managed to maintain her weight at 140 pounds albeit with a major bonus. If before she was toned and slightly muscular, now shes lost her definition and is even developing a little pudge. I see her belly pressing against her waistband as she snacks on one of the cookies i made her and see it press further and further against the band as she makes the tray of cookies magically disappear.

You always made sure to take the plates away or split it in multiple portions, so I had no idea how much I was actually eating in a day. after finishing the third tray of cookies that day you see I am rubbing my belly…I was getting full and I hadn't even eaten a meal! "My tummy is a bit upset" I say as I rub it. "better drink something" I grab the glass of soda that you had brought me. I drink all of it in one go. "I can't believe this is actually sugar free" I say surprised "it tastes like one of those cheap soda's that is super b-BRUUAUUAUAAAAAAAAAP-ad " I look wide eyed and cover my mouth with a blush "s-sorry!"

"Haha that was pretty cool!" i say immediately so as to not make you think i dislike it. I cant let you know that youve given me a hard on with that deep nasty belch, at least not yet. "I don't mind babe" i say as i nuzzle in right next to you on the bed. "in fact if anything it lets me know you really enjoyed whatever i made for you so no need to apologize." i say as i keep my hand on your bloated stuffed belly, giving it a good rub. "I guess you reallly loved those cookies huh, hehe"

"I-I do" I say blushing as you rub my belly…it felt good, but it also made me a bit aware of the fact that I was softer now. "I mean…its just not very lady like to burp like that right?" I smile as you roll your eyes at me "BRUUAAAAP…ooohhff but it does make my tummy feel better"

I moan to myself making sure you don't hear me. "I'm glad you like them" i reply, both to your answer and to that big burp you let out. We spend a few more minutes like this with me rubbing your rounded gut, making you get used to the feeling, making you love my hands on your tummy, making you know i like those un-lady like burps. Im slowly easing your mind into its new state. The state of pure gluttony. Before i get up from bed i decide to try one more thing, i grab your belly and give it a hard pinch and lean up next to your ear "You were a good girl today, keep eating like this and soon you'll be like those fatties at the gym". I whispered it and said it in a teasing tone, but i could tell by your breathing…it did its job. My eyes go wide and my face goes dark red. Did he really just say that?…Is he making a joke?…why do I like him teasing and humiliating me?! I look down and my heart beats even faster, judging by the bulge in your pants…you really liked seeing me like this. "w-what?….a-are you trying to make me fat?" I ask in a soft voice. You just smile, gently kiss my belly before squeezing it again and leave with the empty plates…Am I really going to get fat?

[tearsofcalamity]

wriofucker's fine by me lol unless u have another nickname that'd be both as accurate & funny!

i wasn't too clear earlier; i think our mandatory education goes up to 9th grade, and then it's like a minimum of 4(ish) years for a uni degree. so it's not all that different lol

nahh im telling you i had one macroeconomics class once and it fried my fuckin brain. only reason i could stand it was because the professor was too right-brained for his own good (he'd start his lectures with a song he liked. i wrote a bunch of barely-relevant shit abt environmental pollution on the exam—he was super passionate abt it—and he just let me pass<3 loved that guy). ik i said it before but good luck on ur studies!! im sure you'll absolutely kill it out there. and, thank sm! i actually finished the short story assignment last night but im too scared to submit it jdhdj

im so glad you've got more kaveh brewing omg he's so<33 bit of a shame you're not into kavetham (they make me bite & scream) but that's just fine; more kaveh/reader for the world! except the world is me and nobody else<3 can u imagine teasing kaveh in public, maybe he's even all nice & plugged up, and you're warning him not to let a single person figure out what's going on bc he's for your eyes only<3 but it's so difficult and you're relentless and it feels so, so good... he doesn't even care about people finding out anymore, but he wants to be a good boy for you... phew. lord have mercy

HAHA WRIOFUCKER IT IS THEN!! happy to have a named anon :D

ohhhh I see I see! okay yeah so it's pretty similar just a few differences! I think the only reason I'm surviving my business/econ work is cause I've got a math-wired brain lmfao. I've got autism ("high functioning" but I don't really like that term for it, I think the more acceptable one is "low support needs") and I got the "math autism" as my friends put it so that's probably a bigger part of it. I like making spreadsheets and working out equations HAHA, also thank you for the well wishes I actually just found out I passed calc 2 with an 82% so I'm very happy about that!! I'm glad to hear you got your short story done as well, sounds like you're moving through it all good <3!!

HONESTLY I don't hate the ships (like either kavetham or haikaveh I think they're different? like some shippers put the top's name first or something?? I'm not 100% sure) like I TOTALLY see the chemistry don't get me wrong, I think it's mainly just that I get so sad seeing like nearly 0 kaveh content without alhaitham included. I love both of them but kaveh's got such a unique and deep story too, yet people often just kinda treat him like an accessory to alhaitham likely cause he's 4 star and haitham is 5 star so it turns me off of the ships a bit </3 still though that's so true MORE KAVEH/READER!!!!

oh don't even get me started on teasing kaveh in public there's so many ways you could do it and each one would make him squirm more than the last... shove a nice little vibrator deep inside of him, remote controlled of course, and enjoy watching his knees practically buckle every time you up the intensity. ooh, maybe he's giving a one-time academic seminar for some kshahrewar students and you just stand in the corner, grinning at him all the while while he shakes and tries his best to keep his voice level, praying his face isn't as red as it feels...

or play around with him in the tavern, sit right next to him and brush your hand along his inner thigh while he squirms, not sure whether he wants to move closer or further way from you... this one's easier to hide since his flushed cheeks could easily be attributed to a bit too much to drink, but once he's grabbing at your wrist to push your hand into his bulge at last, he knows by your stare that he's messed up. I mean, he hadn't kept his promise to be good, had he? guess you'll just have to rail him over his workbench back at home when he least expects it! (totally ignore his needs/pretend he's not acting super horny when you get back at first, though, he'll be so good for you when you finally do bend him over)

[voiceless-people]

MY TOP 10 WARRIOR CAT MAPS 🗣🗣🗣🗣💥💥💥💥

These are all just my opinion, and I don't think any of these maps are "better" than the other, they just have personal meaning to me.

These are in order from highest to lowest!

1 Rut. Come on. Rut is the map ever. Without fail I will start tearing up when I watch it, I cried the first time. Such incredible art with such an empowering song. It's a great watch for when you're feeling low.

2 Blame walked so that Rut could run. This map meant so much to me when it came out- and it got me through rough times. I know every part and the song by heart. Such a lovely message.

3 King and lionheart. This map was MY SHIT back in elementary school. I hadn't even read arc 2 of warriors at the time, and this map does the story so much better than the actual books. Also, the pinned comment about Squirrelflight is a good read.

4 Buy the stars!!! How I found out about MARINA!!! This is one of the most nostalgic maps ever. What do you mean it's almost a decade old. This map is iconic Hollyleaf propaganda. Also this song needs to be more popular.

5 Poor George. This song seriously goes hard. The buildup is so intense and crashes down on you as the singer sobs by themself at the end. Yellowfangs struggle oml. Raggedstars death is done so well.

6 Warriors reprise. This map kicks ass. SSS intro? Hell yeah. I cheered during the buy the stars segment. Every part is so distinct and the animation is wonderful. I love so many of these maps.

7 Millhaven. I knew about this song long before the map was even announced, and I thought it was so cool that this (semi)obscure polish song was in a warriors map. The color palette is so dreary yet fitting, and has a nice buildup as the story goes on.

8 Burn him down. While the map is relatively short, it tells Ashfurs story in a unique almost episodic manner. A very unique song too. Little Lionpaw hopping from paw to paw is lowkey peak.

9 Roxanne. Come on, you knew this would be here. This map changed everyones brain chemistry and you know it. So iconic. WHYYYYYY DOES MY HEAAAAAART CRYYYYYY.. it's this low down for a reason tho.

10 Mama we all go to hell. I DON'T LIKE DRAKINATOR. I think they should've stayed off YouTube, but it's undeniably true that this map influenced a lot of ppl. This was one of the first few maps I really saw, and damn it hit like a truck. It's at the bottom because. Drakinator sucks.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Everything moves honestly should've placed on the list, but unfortunately the map itself doesn't mean much to me on a personal level.

Mama told me This is one of my favorite mother mother songs! The fall theming is so nice.

Kids again okay so. This map is my guilty pleasure. I know literally nothing about these cats outside of this map because I refuse to read dawn of the clans. I discovered the song via this map and now it is THE song I associate with my favorite ship ever.

Beautiful another nostalgic one. I just like it a lot lol

Cowboy Dan I'm not really sure what cheetah z did but I think they're controversial?? Either way I love this fucking song. The cloudy rain part? Immaculate vibes.

[multifan2022]

Golden Lies 5

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

 In the tribute center, at the stations all the mentors are shocked. Never before had they seen someone who wasn't teamed up with someone do what you had just done. Mags had tears in her eyes as she watched her kids go through their bags. She had missed the small part where they showed you dumping the bags out. She didn't know what you put in which bag, but she knew watching her tributes that you had stacked the bags in their favor. The only person who you may have grabbed more for would be your friend. 

She looked up at Finnick who had his eyebrows drawn together. He was confused, why had you done that? Why not just end them right there? Why give them a chance to survive? He had been paying attention during the bloodbath where Mags normally looked away. He watched you make the first kill of the game. Watched you slit  the kid from 7s throat like it was nothing. 

Did you do it to be cruel? Did you want them to feel like they had a chance only for them to fail? Or were you incapable of killing them because of their age. Did you like River, the young girl he had just sent into the arena? Was it just too hard for you to kill such a kind girl? He didn't think so, but he had no clue what was going on as he watched you walk away. 

Haymitch had been watching too. Normally by now with both his tributes dead he would be upstairs drinking and waiting for Chaff. But not this year, this year he would be sober... mostly. Watching this girl he felt so deeply connected with. He even requested permission from the gamer maker to watch from your screen. If he could gain control of your screen, he could send in parachutes. He hadn't heard back yet, but he was hopeful. 

That day was spent walking, exploring what you could of the forest and trying to find somewhere relatively defensible to sleep. The entire day you could tell Hardin had something he wanted to say. Maybe multiple things as the lines in his forehead kept getting deeper. But he focused, watching the woods for anything besides your footsteps. 

When you found somewhere to sleep he listened as you detailed the things you two needed and started to help you gather. It wasn't until after you had found a squirrel you recognize from the ‘safe foods’ chart in the gym that he spoke. You had been slowly picking at it, watching to make sure that Hardin gets enough before you. Considering you had eaten this morning at breakfast and he hadn't you wanted to make sure he ate something. 

The furrow in his brows was starting to annoy you as the sun settled, “Ok.. Spit it out. What's the problem?” You said looking at him with that ‘dont bullshit me’ look, letting him know that you were not going to play around. He sighed, and dropped the bones from his animal into his lap pulling at its rib cage trying to get a bone off cleanly. 

“Why did you help those kids.. Don't give me some bullshit answer about giving them their best chance and whatever. You killed someone at the cornucopia no? Did you go deep into the fight to get weapons for them? Is it because of that guy, their mentor? Just tell me the truth.” 

You scoffed and stood up now annoyed that he was questioning you. “First off, I absolutely did not do it for Finnick. I helped them because I would rather spend a little time giving them some supplies than watch her get slaughtered next to me. I don't know why but I just identified with her. Maybe it was her innocence or something, but I just couldn't kill her..” 

Watching him look at you incredulously with his head tilted made you want to smack him. “Then why did you go so far into the horn..” He said standing up now too. He stomped the small fire out as he looked around to make sure no one was coming. You laughed humorlessly as you dug into your pocket. Tossing the bag across the space at him you didn't speak until after he caught it. 

“I had a feeling I needed to get that..” 

When he opened it, the first thing he saw was a note. ‘To give you a fair, fighting chance.’ When he dug further into the bag his fingers pulled out a pill. His pills, he dumped them out carefully into his hand and counted five. Five days that he could fight, five days he could protect you. Five days to get you home. He swallowed hard, having heard stories from his father about things like this. Tributes getting special gifts or sponsorships, and the price that came attached to them. “How did you get this?” 

“Ah it seems like the game makers were generous and gave the boy from 9 enough pills to last a few days! That will make the people happy, there was a lot of outrage last night after his interview.” Caesar says, clapping the table a few times. 

But all Finnick and Haymitch can see are the white roses on the bag. They know its not from the game makers, but from Snow himself. They have the same question that Hardin did. What did you do or promise to do to get that medication? And what would it cost you if you got out of the games. 

“Not important. What's important is you shutting your mouth and not picking fights with me. We can not be at odds right now over things that don't matter. Those kids from 4.. Not a threat to us, even with what I gave them. But we are a threat to each other if we are fighting.” You stepped around the small embers now glowing on the ground speaking again when you could grab one of his wrists. 

“We have to be on our top game, Hardin. Otherwise we will get ourselves and each other killed. I don't want to hear about this again. No Finnick, no questions about the meds. Just keeping each other alive.” He nodded, leaning down and pressing his forehead to yours. “I'm sorry. I wont get worked up again.” 

You patted his cheek as you pulled back, “Get those put away and somewhere on your body like a jean pocket. That way if a bag gets left or a coat gets pulled off you won't lose them. We need to move, in case someone saw some smoke. Then we can figure out rotations and get some rest.” 

That night, you walked until you heard the Panem anthem. You watched as the tribute's faces flashed through the sky. Both from 12, both from 11, the girl from 10, and the boys from 6, 7, and 5 and the girl from 8. “Nine down.” Hardin said as he unrolled the sleeping bag. “13 more to go.” You said softly looking over at him “You take the first rest, I'll be fine.” 

~~~~~~~

The next day and a half were completely uneventful for the two of you. More walking, you had looted one body though and found a freshwater stream. The body of the girl from 5, it seemed she got a decent amount of stuff. Sunscreen, some rations, gloves and some fishing line. 

So with the bone hook that Hardin had painstakingly made the first night during his watch, the two of you fished. Caught something that you hated the taste of, and you were very vocal about it. That night you had seen that only the 5 girl and the boy from 10 had died. You both knew things were going to ramp up if things got to boring. 

On the third day, things started to warm up. Water was being drunk a little faster, the fresh green grass was starting to turn into an unwatered brown. Sweat was starting to form from just walking as the sun stayed up longer. Your shirts were peeled off by the time the sun was high, you in just your jeans and a sports bra. 

You wanted to follow the stream and see if you found a larger body of water, but with how hot it was becoming, Hardin thought it would be better to be in the shade. He also pointed out that other tributes would be looking for water harder now too. So into the woods you went, trekking for what felt like hours. With the game makers controlling how long the days and nights really were, it was hard to tell how long it had actually been. 

“Do you see those marks on her back?” Caesar said squinting harder at his little screen just like his co host. “Hardin keeps looking over at them like they bother him.” 

Everyone in the training center turned from their own monitors which only watched their tributes to the main screen. Finnick felt his face heat up as he realized you had stripped off the top two layers of your outfit. But it was replaced quickly with curiosity over what Caesar had pointed out. 

They could all see the thin white lines that ran in miss match patterns across your back. Finnick looked down at Mags who was looking sadly up at the screen as well. “Scars..” was all she said before looking away to watch her tributes again. Finnick kept watching and listening to the main screen, hoping to hear an explanation. 

Haymitch, who had gotten permission just this morning on what was actually the fifth day to act as your off screen mentor, was watching from the district 9 tablet. Up close he could see just how many scars there were. His skin crawled at the thoughts that ran through his head as he wondered. His questions would soon be answered though as he heard Hardin's voice. 

“Do you remember the day we met?”

You paused for only half a step as you heard your friend's words. You knew he had been staring at your back, you could practically feel it. And had it not been for the heat, you would've put your t-shirt back on. Instead of ignoring him though, you played along thinking maybe the story would buy him some love in the Capitol. 

“Of course.. My father had beat me within an inch of my life, with a steer whip. I still don't know how he got his drunk hands on it. I can remember him screaming at me, about me not being his child and blah blah. Momma was a whore or whatever.” You rolled your eyes as you searched out for other tributes or beasts. 

“You were barely conscious when I found you in that alley. I dropped you twice trying to carry you home.” Hardin said as he remembered “My mom thought you were dead when I brought you in.” You nodded and went to carry on but swore you heard something. You raised your hand closing it into a fist that caused him to stop too. 

Your head turned towards the sound as you raised your spear, ready for battle. From just a few feet away, a person that wasn't supposed to be in the arena stepped out. Someone who wasn't even alive, walked from behind a tree with a blank dead look. The body turned limply and stared at you and Hardin, none of you moving as your heart rate spiked. 

“Ah yes.. It says here on our maker's sheet that part of this forest recreates your worst fear. Clearly our little Goddesses worst fear is this man. Gotta say he doesn't look like he's in the best shape.” 

All the mentors were watching the screen, Haymitch's screen beeping alerting him to your high heart rate. He watched the screen in worry, speaking lowly, but due to the quietness of the game and the room most people heard him. “Come on Sweetheart.. You can do this.” 

Both you and Hardin took a step back as your eyes stayed locked on your father. His skin gray and falling off in places, holes where it looked like something had eaten him were scattered across his body as well. He tilted his head and smiled at you as your breathing picked up audibly. 

“You're dead.. He's dead.. This isn't real.. This isn't real.” You whispered to yourself as you raised your spear. It left your hand and flew literally through his chest, leaving a gaping hole that didn't bleed or heal. A decaying hand came up and touched the hole, before he charged you. 

The sickle found your hand as his body slammed into yours. You could hear Hardin screaming, fighting off what looked like you. He was struggling clearly confused as to why you were attacking him. He didn't want to hurt you, even as you said things like ‘I will never love you.’ and ‘You're just holding me back’. 

The duplicates words angered you. You had always been good at compartmentalizing, so that's what you did. You shoved away the thoughts of killing what kind of looked like your father, and focused on saving Hardin. You fought his hands off your throat, which you had just realized were cutting off your air. 

“I wish your mother had killed you. It's your fault she's dead. I hate you!” The zombie dad screamed and you just rolled your eyes. You had not missed this, the emotional or physical abuse from the man. “Yeah yeah.. I'm a horrible kid.. Blah blah.. Let's get this over with.” 

You sliced out with the sickle, catching his arm as he raised it defensively. You watched as he held his hand out to the open air, it was empty, you were confused. Just as you raised the sickle to cut his hand off, you watched a whip materialize. You felt your heart shoot up again, sweat from the heat and your own trauma pouring down your body. 

You hadn't realized you long you had paused until the tip of the whip caught your face. You felt the skin split open straight down to your cheek bone. The force knocked your head back and caused you to stumble. “Yes.. This is your worst fear isn't it.. Me being back to whip you again..” His words didn't even register over the pain of the next hit, this time across your open chest. A scream ripped from your lungs as more skin split, nerves becoming exposed to the air as crack after crack screamed through the air. “Your screams are louder now that you're not a child.” 

“That's just horrible.. To think that her father whipped her as a child, how traumatic this must be for her. Our poor little goddess.” 

For the first time since becoming a mentor, Finnick turned away from the screen. But he could still hear the crack and your screams, so his feet forced him to leave the room. He was glad that he did, because he felt like he was going to throw up. How had a girl he talked to maybe three times affected him this much. He didnt even flinch when kids were brutally murdered at the blood bath. 

Without thinking, he made his way to the bar ordering himself a shot that he downed far too quickly. He felt someone walk up next to him so he turned his head sizing up the man who stood there. He was wearing a suit, all gold with butterflies outlined in black. His tie looked like it had textured butterfly's and his beard was weird and wavy. Had he really had that made between last night and this morning? 

“I would like to know how to sponsor the tributes from 9. Who can I speak with?” His voice was cool and almost calculating. When he turned back to look at a group of other men, Finnick followed his gaze. They all looked excited, like they were all in on this together. “Abernathy has taken up residence at their monitor. I'll go get him for you.” 

If Finnick had only known the door he was opening.. He wouldve told them to fuck off. He wouldve screamed, begged and bedded whoever he needed too, to save you from the life he basically just signed you too. He wouldve told Haymitch to never speak to this man. But he didnt know, he didnt know.. f

Hardin's scream pulled you from your own nightmare. When you turned your head, you saw him pinned to a tree with both the duplicates hands around his neck. The pain that you were in suddenly didn't matter, that same autopilot came on. The snap connects again, this time to your neck. The warm blood running down is a contrast to the cold sweat beading there. It should've been scary to you how natural it felt to kill when it took over. You felt like a completely different person just stepped into your skin. 

Everyone watching watching from the real world got to see something most hand never witnessed. The moment someone starts to slip. They watch your eyes as you watch your friend, they see the muscle just under your left eye twitch. They feel more than see the first nerve crack. The first feather on the camels back of your sanity. They all watch their goddess, take her first step down to hell.

Your hand raised seconds before the crack, the whip wrapped around your palm. Bones crushed when your fingers closed over the leather. Now it was just who was faster and stronger. When the zombie dad ripped his arm back, you ripped yours too. Effectively, since he was falling apart the motion pulled his arm clean from his body. Both the whip and the arm vanished from view. 

You didn't feel anything as your legs stood, the stinging in your chest, arms and face didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to Hardin. You had dropped your sickle somewhere, and knew the throwing knives you had shoved into random pants pockets wouldn't be any help. You knew nothing about these mutts, not how to kill them or how to make them go away. 

But you knew their body parts came off, and clearly didn't grow back. So if you could remove the things head, then you could get rid of it right? It seemed logical to you, so you assessed the area. If you could jump high enough there was a branch you could reach, maybe pull the thing off the ground? It was your best shot at this moment. 

“What do you think she's going to do? Our sources say that she needs to decapitate the mutation. But she doesn't have a weapon, and her partner is busy fighting his mutt. Weird that his worst fear is his best friend hating him. This must be very hard for the both of them.” Caesar said leaning so close to his screen that he was almost out of frame. The district 9 tributes were undoubtedly his favorite in a long time. 

“I don't know Caesar. I'm impressed that they have lasted this long or that she has been so ruthless. I mean she only scored a five! Do you think it was all an act or did something just click when she got to the arena?” His co-host said while tapping a pen on the desk. 

Pushing with everything you had, you ran. It caught the mutt off guard so when he stumbled back a step you were perfectly placed to get one foot on his leg and jump. Your hands wrapped around a sturdy branch at the same time your legs locked around his neck. One ankle tucked under the other thigh in a death drip. 

It took every ounce of core body strength you had to lift him up. Your arms were aching already as his dirty nails dug into your legs. Your body was shaking from adrenaline, pain, and exhaustion but you knew if you stopped two more cannons would be going off. You weren't sure how long it was before you felt the skin of his neck start to rip. 

The feeling had you almost gagging, as you held him just an inch or two from the ground. When his hands fell from your legs, and you felt the weight of his body leave you looked down. His head rolled from between your thigh and calf, a thud alerting you to both hitting the ground. You didn't give yourself a second to breathe as your feet hit the grass. 

You ran towards Hardin who was still trying to fight a paler version of you off. He had tears running down his face as he whispered to himself  ‘This isn't real. She's not real.’ A glint of metal caught your eye causing you to bend over as you ran. A sickle now in your hand as you reach your best friend. 

“Oh my god. She's going to kill a look a like of herself. This is amazing.”

Nothing about the scenario was processed as both hands wrapped around the handle of the sickle. It cut through the mutts neck like a warm knife through butter. The hands that were clawing into Hardin's neck now gone, as there was another thud and then smoke. Both bodies now disappear into nothing. 

Hardin stared at you, covered in whip marks and bleeding. Both your heart rates through the roof as you struggle to breath. You knew this had fucked you both up a little mentally. He could see that look, the one everyone else saw. It terrified him, but you couldn't stop to talk about it, you needed to keep moving. “There was too much noise from this.. We need to move. Now.” You didnt turn to see if he was following you, just grabbed your bag and looked for your spear. But it too had disappeared, you figured the game makers took it from you.

~

~

~

@avis15 @liballer @avoxrising

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 8/8

Does this story need an epilogue?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy! 💞

Gabriel felt famished but with no appetite. Thirsty yet declining when Rico offered a sip of his water bottle. And when Gabriel was done surfing for the day he was so eager to shut himself inside the house with blinds covering the windows, that he snapped at a young fan on the beach, standing in his way, pleading for an autograph.

"Great, now you're not eating....and making children cry. I'm worried man, the tour starts in a month."

Gabriel put away his surfboard and made his way over to the fridge. He grabbed a beer even though he wasn't supposed to, especially on an empty stomach. He then fell back against the couch and grunted at Rico for pacing in front of the TV.

"This can't be happening. Not now."

Gabriel took a long shug of his beer, emptying half of the bottle. "Relax Rico. A month is far away."

"No it's not, and here you are throwing all of our hard work away in the course of three weeks."

Three weeks. Gabriel could've sworn that you left him months ago. Years even. Nevertheless, Rico was right, without you he was spiraling out of control. Crashing out in the worst way possible.

"That's it...I'm calling your mom, telling her to get her lawyers involved if that's what it takes for you to—"

"No!" Gabriel twitched, frightening himself with the desire to decapitate his friend for even suggesting to call his mother, the root to all of his problems.

"But what do you believe I should do?" Rico pleaded, desperation in his eyes. He watch Gabriel on the couch, a bottle in his hand and dark rings under his eyes. He was suppose to reach his peek performance by now if it hadn't been for the drama that unfolded. The drama resulted in your departure back home. Not to your grandmother but back home to São Paulo where someone who wasn't Gabriel's was waiting for you. Your fiance.

"Leave it." Gabriel muttered and noted the empty Corona bottle in his hand. "Leave her." Thank god that the beer brand was one of his main sponsor, leaving him with an endless supply of alcohol.

Gabriel rose from the couch to grab another Corona from the fridge. But before he managed to reach the kitchen Rico was in his face, pleading for him not to.

"She loves you Gabriel, there is no doubt about that."

Gabriel eyed his friend then snorted.

"It's true man. Both of you know it because both of you felt it. Y/N loves you as much as you love her. The two of you are family and nothing will ever change that no matter what your mother wants."

"Oh yeah?" Gabriel hissed. He was getting annoyed now. "Tell that to Y/N's fiance." His heart was beating fast just thinking about him. How Nemo had probably come to know this man as a father figure better than he did Gabriel. The two of them didn't have much time this summer and now his son was gone. Under the care of another man.

"Well, she won't be able to marry him, won't she?"

"And why is that?" Gabriel pushed past his friend, desperately in need of another beer. He paused however, within arms length of the fridge.

"Think about it." Rico suggested. "You are Y/N's husband....at least on paper. She won't be able to marry whoever this guy is. Not until the two of you get divorced....and are the two of you divorced?"

You weren't. But sooner or later you would be. Gabriel's mother would sought to it.

"Exactly." Rico nodded. Interpreting the twinkle in Gabriel's eyes as a sign of hope. "If you really want her in your life Gaby, what exacly is stopping you from going and getting your wife?"

Gabriel's response came to him through a stab in the chest. "What if she chooses him and not me?"

Rico sighed. "Now why would she do that?"

"Because of the surfing tour. It's what broke us up the first time."

"Then this time ask her to come with us."

"What? I can't ask—"

"Her and Nemo." Rico said, vigorously bobbing his head. "We'll figure it out. We'll make things work. You just have to know if Y/N wants to make things work."

Rico was right. Gabriel has always had the desire to make things work between the two of you. It was clear to him that you were the love of his life, his love for you untamable. So the uncertainty lies with you. Was your love for him willing to bend without breaking? To face harsh winds but still set sail and cross the raging sea called life? Were you able to support your husband's lucrative dreams if he swore to cherish and care for you each and every day?

There was only one way to find out.

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

Nemo was put to bed just before Victor left the apartment. It was hard for him to unstand what goodbye meant at his age. It definitely hadn't been easy leaving Gabriel and Vovó behind as Nemo still asked for them every now and then. Especially Gabriel, wanting his dad to tuck him into bed at night and tell him another one of his adventurous surfing tales. He had come to appreciate those and so had you since they included anecdotes of Nemo's brave uncle. You never found the strength to tell Nemo about your brother, not yet at least. But Gabriel had done it and in the most beautiful way possible. For that you'd be forever grateful.

A loud knock on the door interrupted your smutting of red wine in front of the TV. At this hour it had to be Victor. Perhaps he forgot something, maybe afraid that you wouldn't return it to him at the hospital now that you've called off your engagement. However you made it clear to him that the end of your engagement didn't have to mean the end of your friendship. Victor had always been more than a friend to you than a lover. It was in his nature as a doctor to want to help you and Nemo. Falling in love with you was his mistake as your heart already belonged to one man and one man only.

"Gabriel." You gasped when you opened the door. You stepped out into the hallway after a quick glance over your shoulder, making sure that the doorbell hadn't woken up Nemo.

"Hey." He said, a trace of fatigue on his face by the way his eyes could barely take you in. "Did I come in a bad time?"

"A bad time? Gabeiel, what are you even....I had no idea that you were coming." You were out of words. The situation surreal. You had left Maresias with your heart in one piece this time. You had left with your head held high, refusing to have your life dictated by that evil woman again. You left thinking that Gabriel had chosen his side of the family and not the one you created together.

"Is he up, can I see him?" Gabriel pushed open the door to your apartment, shifting his head in search for his son. He seemed disoriented, lost even.

"Gabriel, is everything okay?"

Your words turned him around, frowning at the way you watched him with your arms folded. "Okay?" He grunted.

"Yeah. Why did you come all the way to São Paulo? Aren't you supposed to be on a plane to Hawaii or something?"

"Hawaii?"

It was the first stop on the World Surf Tour. You were embarrassed to have memories all the dates and destinations. But you told yourself that you did it for Nemo. Surfing was a part of his life now, even though he had to settle for watching it on the TV from now on."

"Yes. The world surfing tour? Aren't you supposed to be in it?"

Gabriel stumbled forward like a drunk sailor, but you really hoped that it was the lack of sleep that was causing him to act this way. "Do you want me to be?" He asked, standing so close, reaveling the smell of alcohol on his breath.

"W...what?"

Gabriel batted his lashes, eyes glossy. "The tour. Do you want me to be in it?"

"When has that ever been my choice?"

"Dammit Y/N, just answer the question." He sighed, the fatigue definitely having more power over him than he wanted. "I'm sorry." He said, seeing your arms fall limb to your sides. "I just need to know. If you want me to go, I'll go. But if you want me to stay...."

"You'd do that for me? You'd quit the world tour?" You were baffled, all of this coming from out of the blue. Nevertheless, despite his current state Gabriel seemed sure, nodding his head. "If you want me to I'll quit the tour and get a real job or something."

You chuckled. It really wasn't the time, yet you couldn't help but to giggle.

"What." Gabriel said, a smile twitching his own lips. It was handsome, his smile. It made you step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down so that you could press your lips against his. The kiss deepend just as fast, with Gabriel's hands moving to rest on your hips.

"What about your fiance?" He mumbled, breaking up the kiss with a furrow of his brows. He regarded you seriously but still with a disoriented trace of fatigue.

You bit your lip. "My fiance? How can I have a fiance when I'm already married to you?"

The dent between his brow deepened, still his hands rested on your hips.

You perked up, kissing him once more. You then spoke with your lips against his mouth. "It's over Gabriel. Victor and I....he was never the one."

"The one?" Gabriel shook his head, unsure of what you meant. However, as you kissed him again his body relaxed, shoulders dropping.

"You're the one for me Gabriel, you always have and always will be."

He pulled back, blinking himself sober. You smiled, nodding your head. I want to be with you. Wherever you go, we go."

"We?" He glanced down the hall, towards the room lit up by neon lights.

"He's asleep. He'll be happy to see you in the morning. "

Gabriel turned back to you, your arms weighing down on his neck. "In the morning?"

"Mhm." You nodded, lip caught between your teeth. "Now let's go to bed."

You unwrapped your arms around his neck, resting them on his shoulders before your hands slowly slid down his chest, stomach and hips. You took his hands in yours, guiding him towards your bedroom. And like a tamed beast he followed. Gabriel followed you like you would follow him, for the rest of your lives.

The End.

[senkusphone]

@aresagainstthemachine asked so this one is for you. Video of it working at the end.

Here's the one project I am so proud of I named my entire blog after it.

Back in 2020, while I was stuck at home with few pleasant things to do, I decided to bring this contraption to life.

Only recently had I gotten into this inspiring series called Dr. Stone, and when I saw them make this device in the anime, I knew it was my divine calling to build it, for I had prior experience building circuits with vacuum tubes, an interest that was fostered greatly by my late grandfather when I was a boy. It had been because of the stories he'd tell me that I built my first crystal radio back then (which took me about 4 years of trial and error). Now, people had ''built'' the phone on youtube at least once before, but I was not satisfied with what they did, when they used parts that were too advanced and didn't even get it to transmit a voice, only to pick up radio stations. So I tried to go beyond while being as accurate as possible to the level of technology they had, I was seeking to achieve more with less

Making something that picks a radio signal is relatively easy, the challenge was making it also produce its own signal so it could truly be used as a phone (or more accurately, like a walkie talkie), and I restricted myself to use the most primitive tubes I had, the ones most similar to what old Kaseki would have made.

(Happy birthday to Kaseki by the way, February 9th) I started out using this beautiful Western Electric 262-A tube. This general purpose triode was developed around 1928 by the Bell Telephone company and one of the things it was known to be used for, was in cinema projectors to amplify the sound from the early talkie films. I think that's interesting enough to mention.

It wasn't long until my experiments showed great promise, eventually I moved on to a type 45 vacuum tube, another triode which is more powerful as a transmitter than the 262-A yet its construction is much more primitive. This tube is very similar to what Senku & Co. would've had.

I started building the definitive device, simultaneously laying a plan to combine a transmitter and receiver in the same unit using just one tube, a task that required this one part to perform four different duties (because I hadn't read the manga, and I didn't know the final unit they dispatched used two tubes instead of just one). On new year's eve at the end of 2020, the circuit was broadcasting One Small Step by Lillian Weinberg, loud and clear to a radio across the room.

You can get a recording of that in the link below as Tumblr won't let me upload it (yes I am using discord to host files, it also works for hosting images for your fanfics on Ao3, you're welcome).

The wooden circuit board was wired with homemade wires, made by cutting a sheet of copper into strips, and wrapping them in cotton and thread. A relay is used to switch the phone from receiver mode to transmitter mode with the push of a button.

Then the coils were calculated and wound, including the iconic large transmit coil

but would this coil that was made to look like the one in the series, be suitable to repeat what I had achieved in my experiments, would it resonate and produce the signal?

yes

I intended originally to have this project done before season 2 of Dr. Stone started, and put out a youtube video, but that ended up not happening. Still, the unit finally came together, and the plastic housing was a tupper with the rim cut off, painted orange and applied lettering.

By now season 2 had already ended, I believe, or it was soon to. Before I painted the case, I had to have one definitive test, to see that my creation demonstrated the functionality it promised, and now I had just the right voice to do it.

The final circuit was based on the work of radio pioneer Edwin Howard Armstrong, who was one of the fellows who invented the wireless world we know it today.

I turned the switch, and watched as the tungsten filament in the tube started glowing red. First I adjusted the receive coil and a radio station came in on the crystal earpiece, then, with a radio receiver in tune nearby, I started the sound I wanted to send over the air, and I pressed the transmit button...

It's true, it can be done. Today, there are people still alive who saw the day when the cutting edge of electronics was at this level. How far we've come from these baby steps, over such a short time.

Isn't science awesome?

I still haven't built a second unit.

[imprettytired]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Before this next chapter begins I would like to say something:

I'm sorry about not getting this chapter out sooner. I've been dealing with a lot of mental health issues as well as getting distracted.

Tw: mentions of drugs, self harm, alcohol, arguing, and disordered eating.

Chapter 3:

Mammon walks around, taking in the familiar, yet new environment around him. He's never seen the Devildom in such a beautiful and bright way, albeit a bit blurry.

He tries his best to calm down, to understand that his brothers do in fact love him.

"Hey" he hears someone yell "you're Mammon right?"

Mammon turned, half expecting it was someone that he had borrowed money from and never paid back, but it wasn't.

Mammon's eyes lands on a group of demons, he doesn't feel like counting how many, but he knows that's it's more than one.

"You seem to be enjoying your self right now." He said now pointing at mammon's face.

Mammon didn't understand, was his face different? He begins to touch his face making the group of demons laugh.

"Dude I meant that you look high".

"Oh" Mammon mumbled

"I'm kinda glad I didn't send you home with anything to strong. Don't want your brothers to see ya'" now starting to calm down from his laughing fit.

"It's different from yesterday?" Mammon thought though he had no recollection of the previous night. The confusion must had been evident on his his face as a demon took a step forward.

"I really overestimated what you could handle last night"

"I wasn't that bad, was I?" Mammon asked, worried that he might have done something stupid.

"You kinda just sat on the couch and spaced out, you talked sometimes but nothing you said made any sense"

"Oh." Why didn't Mammon remember this?

They began to part ways but just then Mammon remembered something.

"Wait" the group of demons paused when he said that "do you know whose number this is?"

He showed them the unknown person that texted him earlier. He hadn't realized how sweaty his hands were before then.

"Oh yeah that's mine dude."

"Sorry I guess I forgot to put my name. Here." The demon takes the phone and updates the contacts.

----

Mammon was now on the roof of RAD watching as people began to trickle into the school. He doesn't plan on going to classes today

He thinks back to the events of earlier. Did he actually steal his brothers stuff? He doesn't remember, but he feels like it couldn't have been him. He wouldn't have taken something from everyone, would he?

"You know no one believes you right?" Yeah he knows.

He doesn't even believe himself.

----

Mammon gets home before any of his siblings could make it. Skipping school really helps with that.

He heads straight to his room as he fears that staying outside of it for too long would cause him to be blamed for something else that he didn't do.

Though it seems like that didn't work.

When he enters his room he sees that it was a mess. He doesn't remember leaving the room like this but with how his memory has been who knows.

He sighs, frustrated with himself for letting his room get like this. He begins to clean up.

----

"I don't even know where he could have hid it" he heard Leviathan "I searched through his entire room but there was nothing."

"He probably already sold it Levi" Asmodeous said "I swear he's such an ass."

"I don't know why we keep him around" belphegor added.

That one hurt Mammon alot. He felt his chest tighten, but he tries is hardest not to cry.

It doesn't help that the pills wears off leaving him with a numb feeling he has started to grow accustomed to.

He hated this feeling. He wants to go back to the happiness the pills had gifted him.

While this is cool he doesn't want to get addicted he doesn't worry too much though "this is only my third time" he thought "I can stop at any time. This is just for fun."

The pill, while replacing his sadness, didn't erase his anger. He grabs his wallet and some other things, and exits his room, but not before glancing at the mirror first. He looks like a complete mess.

He had no idea what he was going to say or do but he didn't intend to just leave without telling them something first.

He stopped when he saw his brothers, his breath now quick and shallow. Soon his brothers where looking at him. Mammon points at Leviathan.

"If you" Mammon pauses, trying his best to collect himself "ever enter my room for whatever reason I will beat your ass."

It caught his brothers off guard. Leviathan tries to say something but Mammon stops him.

"Don't speak." Mammon holds his finger up, hand trembling from rage "You're so convinced that I stole something from-"

"Because you did"

"NO I FUCKING DIDN'T LEVI." Mammon takes a step forward watching as his brother quickly takes some steps back.

"Why are you getting this mad to begin with?"

He's right. He usually didn't care. He has no clue why he was so angry, it wasn't about the room, but he says the first thing that pops in his head that would make even some sense.

"Because what you did to my room was disgusting. If you were so convinced that I stole your shit why didn't you find it? Why'd you have to destroy my room-"

"I didn't destroy your room."

"Don't interrupt me again Levi." Mammon is getting angrier. He looked around the room.

Fear

He loves that. They, or at least some of his brothers, are afraid.

He didn't want to hurt his brother. He loved him too much to ever hurt him.

Maybe their afraid he's gonna hurt Leviathan.

Which is valid.

Maybe their afraid Mammon will target them next.

Another valid point.

Or maybe their afraid of him. Just him.

He doesn't know what he looks like at this exact moment, but if it was anything like he saw in the mirror as he was heading out it was probably a complete mess. He didn't even sound the same.

"I swear Levi you better hope that you don't find your shit in your room because if I find out you messed up my room because your irresponsible ass couldn't look for shit properly I don't know what I'm going to do to you."

Mammon stormed out of the house. Slamming the door behind him.

----

Soon he feels no reason to angry, he was back to his happy self.

As Mammon begins to walk around aimlessly, he receives a message:

"Do you want to hang out?"

It was one of the people he had met earlier, although now he's forgot how he has the person's number.

"Sure"

He's sent a location, somewhere on the other side of town that he didn't feel like walking too, so he goes and finds the nearest taxi.

"Hey can you take me somewhere?"

Judging by the look on the demons face, he must have thought Mammon was crazy.

"Where?"

"Home."

"Where is home?"

He paused for a moment, remembering why he left in the first place.

"No where"

"Okay so where do you want to go?"

Mammon took out his phone to pull up the location again but stops as he looks at the new messages from his family group chat, ignoring the recent ones calling him names, he scrolls up a bit to a few hours ago. Many messages where to tell him that he missed the meeting, but he only one stood out to him.

Asmo had sent a picture of him with all the brothers and by the look of it, Mammon assumes it's from today's meeting.

His siblings were in the background doing various things, some not even noticing that their picture was being taken:

But there's was no Mammon.

If Mammon left forever would he truly be missed? It's such ,but for some reason this picture hurt him.

"Sir"

"Sorry sorry I'm so sorry umm" he pulls up the location of his new friends

"Here."

"Okay get in"

Mammon can't help but think about his brothers and how happy they are without him. He hadn't realized it, but even in his incredibly happy state he was still crying. It was a painful feeling but that wasn't the worst part, it wasn't even close to it.

The worst part for him is:

He's happy that they're happy without him.

----

He hands the driver some money, then stumbles out of the taxi. "Was there even taxi's in the devildom?" Mammon thinks. He turns to check,

But it had already left.

Mammon's eyes fall upon an old house that, if wasn't abandoned already, really should have been.

The decrepit house has had shattered windows, an uncared-for front yard, and graffiti tags all over the exterior of things to blurry for Mammon to make out.

It was probably what Diavolo had been picturing during one of his plans to have some of the abandoned houses in the devildom tore down a few weeks back.

The front door that was barely on its hinges flew open.

"Hey Mammon"

"You don't live here right?" Was the first thing to fly out of Mammon's mouth

"What? No. Dude who would live here? It's just somewhere to hang out"

Mammon opens his mouth, trying to get out an apology, but his mouth was too dry.

"Come on." The demon gestured to Mammon while walking further into the house.

Mammon walks up, careful as to not trip over any weeds or step on any sharp objects and enters the house.

Although the inside was in rough shape it wasn't nearly as bad as the front.

----

"Sooooo Mammon?" Mammon popped his head up from whatever he was drinking. He thinks it might be alcohol but he's not sure.

He was in the living room area of the house. Everyone was in random places in the room, Mammon sitting on a pillow on the floor as his new friends deemed it as the "best part of the house"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me something?"

"Ummm okay. What does cheese say when it gets it's picture taken?"

The room went silent. Then gradually everyone begins to laugh hard.

"Mammon your such an idiot" was said before the person began to start crying from laughing so hard.

This felt normal. Being surrounded by people who don't hate him. What would usually be insulting spat at him just became banter.

He was happy.

But he knows it can never last forever. Soon everyone calmed down.

"Hey Mammon there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" Mammon smiles expecting for another cringey joke to be told.

But there isn't.

"It's about the pills you've been taking."

[violadiaries]

Fluffcember Day 3: Snow Man

@fluff-cember

Fandom: That Time I got Reincarnated as a Slime in another world / Tensei shittara slime Datta ken / Tensura

Pairing: Guy Crimson x Leon Cromwell

Crossposted on AO3 (Ch. 4)

As the days got longer and snow started to fall, in the country of El Dorado, Leon found himself just watching the outside from his office more often than he should. Yet at the same time it was so very relaxing to him. Especially with the way his office window was facing not the inner side of the castle, but instead the town surrounding it. And something about watching the children play in the snow calmed him down. He was getting told over and over and over again anyways that he was working too much. So he might as well tone it down a little bit more like this. The preparations for the season were done anyways, and everything else for the New Years and Christmas festivities was settled as well.

So Leon allowed himself to just watch with a cup of his favourite tea in hand. Something of it reminded him of his own childhood, while at the same time not. Whenever he had been playing with Chloe it had been similar. Running around in the snow, building a snow man and things like that. The moment she had gone home, he hadn't been allowed to run around carefree anymore. Part of his reason why he needed to keep his country safe. So these children would be allowed to play. Even those with more unfortunate circumstances to themselves.

Sometimes he even found himself wondering what the kids would think if they knew. It had happened once in the past, many years ago now. That they had noticed him watching from his office. The kids had started to make it into a contest. Whoever made the best looking snow man. Even if Leon himself had never named a victor. He was content as long as they had fun. And as long as he could take a break from the stress of watching over his own country.

Leon sighed as his door opened. He turned back to his desk, frowning at the pile of papers he still needed to look over. He had hoped he would at least be able to finish his cup of tea, before he would need to get back to work again. Though his visitor definitely was not there to remind him of his work. Most likely the opposite actually. Guy strutted into his office as if he owned it. Leon wished he would have at least informed him about visiting beforehand. Not that he ever could be bothered with little formalities like that.

Leon turned back to the window again, allowing himself a little bit more of his break, as Guy strutted over. He knew he wouldn't get any significant work done with Guy hovering around him anyways.

"Don't ignore me, Leon~" Guy whined.

Leon sighed yet hid a small smirk behind his teacup. As if Guy would allow him to ignore him. While before the particular group of children having become the point of Leon's focus had been having a snowball fight, apparently they had now decided to bury that hatchet and go over to building a snow man.

"I'm not ignoring you. What do you want?" Leon asked.

He kept sipping his tea and closed his eyes for a moment, once he knew Guy was close enough to him. Somehow he wouldn't mind a little bit of a distraction right now. Guy stopped behind his chair, placing his hands on Leon's shoulders, before leaning forward. Placing his chin on the top of Leon's head, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at.

He had found the kids playing their little game soon enough. Which didn't mean he understood what exactly they were doing, and why Leon had seemed so very relaxed while watching them. They were only kids, so he really didn't need to be jealous, but at the same time was it a rare sight. And Guy wanted to understand it better.

"I wanted to see you, my lovely hero," Guy said.

Leon nodded slightly, making sure to not cause Guy to lose his balance. While the sight would be an amusing one, it wasn't one he wanted right now. Not when Guy would definitely retaliate in some way or form. Nothing he was looking forward to right now. Nothing he needed to bother with.

"What exactly are we watching?" Guy asked.

Leon opened his eyes again, and watched as the kids talked amongst one another. Soon after they left, looking for more materials for their snow man. Leon wondered what it would look like once fully finished.

He knew the kids were from the orphanage nearby. So maybe they'd model it after their caretaker. A young woman, having fled the Eastern Empire, if he remembered correctly. Though some of his knights were always popular role models for the children as well.

"They're building a snow man. Basically they are playing," Leon said.

It couldn't be described any other way. Especially because the snow man would have no other function but to look cool or pretty or whatever. They just spend some time together outside. Though he could make a point, that it could be a good exercise to build a good team dynamic. They had to work together after all.

"In the end, that lump out of snow should at least slightly resemble a caricature of a human," he added.

Guy hummed, though Leon was sure he still didn't quiet get it. For once he wouldn't blame him. It was something he would need to experience himself. And if Leon hadn't been so cosy in his own office, he might have even offered to show him. Yet he'd rather stay inside.

"Mhm…I see. And you like it, because they are at peace while doing that? Playing?" Guy asked.

Leon nodded and made an affirmative noise. He was surprised that Guy actually tried to understand his point of view. Though whenever it was really just the two of them, he was surprisingly different at times. Almost domestic somewhat.

Guy stood up straight again and walked closer to the window. Leon put his cup down and did the same. Coming to a halt next to Guy. Guy didn't waste any time in stepping behind Leon, wrapping his arms around him. Placing his head on Leon's shoulder, just in time for the children to return. Leon threw a glance over his shoulder, finding his office door shut tight and locked. He let out a sigh and turned his attention to the kids outside again. A smile stole itself onto his lips. 

"See, I remembered that you don't like it when I show my adoration for you where other's can see," Guy whispered.

A shiver ran down Leon's spine at the tone of his voice. Also at the way his breath brushed over Leon's skin. He had seemed to have thought about that. Which was why Leon wasn't pushing him away. No matter how much he denied him his advances most of the time, some times he didn't really mind.

Leon placed a hand on Guy's while leaning slightly against him. Yet, unfortunately Guy never really always thought about that. Leon supposed it was a testament to their friendship…partnership that he let him get close enough to make him uncomfortable in the first place.

"Now if you could please always pay attention to that, Guy," Leon said.

Guy chuckled and lightly shook his head, as they kept watching the kids. Leon raised an eyebrow when instead of a scarf, the children put a black cloth, definitely meaning to resemble a cape around the snow man. Holding it together with a large stone, not unsimilar to how his small breast armour held his cape in place.

Guy noticed it at the same time and started to laugh, while Leon just let out a sigh. Still smiling at the scene. After the children were satisfied with their work, they waved to the snowman, before turning around, definitely having seen him watching them before. Or at least one of them had seen him and told the other. If the way all of them were accurately waving to him, before running off, was anything to go by. He definitely should not have dismissed that possibility.

"It somehow looks a little lonely, don't you think, Leon?" Guy asked,

Leon rolled his eyes and shook his head. He just hoped Guy wouldn't get any idiotic ideas, which would ruin the hard work of the kids. At least while the weather held up cold, which it would for a while longer, the snow man would stay standing.

That was something Leon always made sure, whenever he saw some of the kids build something there. That it survived the longest time possible. And while he wasn't always as successful as he liked to be, he tried. Leon's face fell as his thoughts drifted. Hating how he hadn't been able to try his best with her, too blinded by his own goals at the time. His own selfish desires. 

"Well, let's go and have some fun, alright?" Guy said.

Leon flinched slightly and looked at Guy. Who was grinning to both ears at him. As if he had noticed the shift in his behaviour. No he definitely had noticed. Before Leon could even try to object, or even try to get out of it by saying he still had work to do, Guy had already started pulling him away from the window. Somehow Leon found himself glad for the little distraction. He had no way of changing the past, and even if, it would probably cause a horrible butterfly effect in the long run.

Leon let Guy pull him towards the door. He didn't even know why Guy liked to walk through his castle so much. Whenever anywhere else he would simply use spacial movement to get where he would need to be. Never when he was visiting Leon. The moment they left the room, Leon pulled his hand from Guy, opting to simply walk next to him. Somehow he has a feeling, Guy had something planned for him. He just hoped it wouldn't be too bad.

Though with his attention having been taken away too quickly Leon hadn't seen the second snow man having miraculously appeared next to the one the children had built. Standing rather close together now, twig arms touching. Sporting a black bandana and small stones placed beneath the eyes, forming two half moon shapes each.