#they keep sending me 'customer satisfaction surveys'

[tj-crochets]

Hey y’all! I hadn’t mentioned it by name because I wasn’t sure if it was regional or not, but I found out it’s not regional so: Aetna is the worst insurance company. It sucks! Avoid it if you can. All my insurance issues have been because of Aetna. Aetna refuses to pay for my maintenance inhaler or my rescue inhaler, and refused to pay for a holter monitor for me when I’ve had tachycardia issues for a full decade. A heart monitor my doctor ordered to check if I had major electrical issues because if I did I’d need a pacemaker to prevent severe cardiac complications (I don’t have those issues, for the record).

[greatbigbellies]

I thumb the doctor's note nervously as I stand in line. I'm trying to psyche myself for this. I've always wanted this, but I don't know if I'm ready. When you smile at me, I can't do it. I order a bacon egg griddle instead. Then, frustrated, I order a second one. I eat them and leave. I'm full, but I'm not satisfied. Something should be growing in there.

By lunch I've whipped myself into a desperate frenzy. Nervously faking confidence, I put the doctor's note on the counter and order a family feast and then fried pickle chips. Because of the griddles, I'm going to grow very slowly. I'm going to enjoy it.

The cravings are transcendent though. When I return, my body has ripened, but not to its full size, not yet. It's hard to imagine that I snuck out of work at my size, but I did.

Now, my order comes out in a desperate plead. Another order of fried pickle chips, 8-piece mozzarella sticks, and stomach lets out a powerful growl. More. Two large orders of tater tots with fry sauce for dipping. I place a hand on a portion of my belly that's too large to be contained and rub it soothingly. Two orders of nuggets. It's not enough. A large maternal marrionberry and two large marshmallow plushes.

I want them to put their hands on my belly and tell me about what a blimp I've become. It'll be a real scandal when I get stuck in a door frame or when I take too much room in a elevator. They'll send me home because I'm too distracting. Back at my place, I spend the day with a gallon of ice cream resting on my belly. I'll catch up on TV shows I've missed and eating the ice cream and growing rounder and wider by the bite.

You were cute when you first came in, all small and empty. I knew you'd go far, just didn't know how far. When you ordered the griddles with no pregnancy inducing products, I'd figured you had gotten nervous, I knew you would be back.

And back you came! That family feast would do you wonders and the pickle chips would make everything taste so much better! I keep telling the managers to just include them free with everything for people's enjoyment but alas, that's "not profitable".

When you came back a third time, I could tell that you'd gotten lucky and had septuplets in there. Your tummy entered the dining area before you did. It was something special hearing you order, listening to you rattle off every item that'd make you larger and larger. I was impressed at your gumption.

When you got home, lounging in your pj's, belly out, used as a table for your ice cream, I do hope you'd checked the back of the receipt. Someone rather cute who handed you your food had written her phone number on the back... along with a little note... something about a "personally conducted customer satisfaction survey"...

No wait. That's wrong. It said something about "personally surveying, then satisfying the customer"...

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 5.3

"Oh? I didn't realize I would have visitors today," a mysterious blonde entered the cave, and you tensed despite the pain shooting through your shoulder.

"Oh, hey Albedo!" Paimon greeted in a cheerful voice.

"Aether, may I inquire to the reasons you've stopped by?  I don't recall sending for you recently."  Albedo set his bag on the table and unloaded it's contents haphazardly. He handled his drawings with care, unlike the rest of the vials and glasses of unknown substances.

"We were running from the Fatui," he scratched his head and avoided the alchemist's knowing smirk.

"I'm not even surprised at this point.  Why, you seem to have a honing instinct when it comes to--" His eyes landed on your bloody shoulder.  "--them.  Are you alright, Miss?"

"Me?"  It was a stupid response considering you were the only girl in the room, but his sudden shift in attention threw you off.  "U-uh, yeah.  Bennett patched me up."

"Hi, Albedo!"  Bennett waved excitedly at the familiar Mondstatian.

Albedo returned with a nod, and walked towards you.  "If you don't mind, I would like to take a look at your injury."

"Oka--Ow!"  You bit your tongue when he quickly placed a hand against your injured arm without exercising much caution.  Xiao took a step toward him in response.  

"Apologies." Albedo removed his hand and caught the sudden amber glow that enveloped your eyes, and leaned forward to inspect them.  His supposed guilt for agitating your wound was instantly transformed into curiosity.

H-he's really close, you found yourself leaning backwards to ensure a safe distance from his face.

"That's peculiar," he commented, seemingly more interested in your glowing eyes than your injury now.  "I haven't seen anything like this before.  May I run some tests?"

"What kind of tests?"  Xiao's protectiveness took over and he hid you behind him.  First the Fatui, and now this stranger?  Just how many people were after the two of you?

"Don't worry, he's safe," Paimon teased the concerned yaksha and immediately earned a glare from him.

"For the most part," Bennett and Aether finished under their breaths and made nervous eye contact.

"A simple experiment for the sake of science," Albedo stood and gathered a few cotton swabs from one of the cabinets, then a small needle.  He carefully sanitized it before returning to you.  "Are you also like Aether?"  He only referred to the otherworldliness of the traveler.

"No, I'm from Teyvat."  You watched him as he placed swiped a cotton swab against the drying blood on your shoulder.  He in turn watched for a reaction in your eyes, but found nothing.  He repeated the same procedure, this time closer to your pulsating stitches.  Your muscles tensed at the faint dull pain.  A faint glow emanated in your irises and even though it was barely noticeable he still managed to catch it.

"I see," he nodded to your answer and placed the swabs in separate vials.  Then, while you were still focused on his face, grabbed the small needle.  He turned to face you again.  "How long have your eyes been doing that?"

"Not that long," you caught Xiao's silent warning of 'do not speak of this' out of the corner of your eye.  "Er, I don't know."

Albedo also glanced in the direction of the man that was so obviously overprotective of you and realized the two of you had the exact same eye color.  He didn't say anything about that, though.  "I see."  He quickly pricked your shoulder with the needle when you had your guard down, and you almost backhanded him out of pure instinct.

"Ow!"  You glared at him, and annoyance bubbled inside you when he smiled back in both satisfaction and awe.  

"Experiment one is complete."  He stood and made his way to the table with the three vials of cotton swabs.  Then he proceeded to pour separate liquids into each, shake them gently, and place them back down on the table.  He watched the mixtures settle.

"What do you mean, 'complete?'" You growled and dabbed the miniscule blood off of your skin.

"Your eyes glow in response to pain," he stated simply as he eyed the vials.  "A strange reaction that is tied to a human's fight-or-flight response.  I wonder what else they react to."  Once the mixtures settled, he inspected them with the utmost attention.  He wrote his notes down on a sheet of paper.

"Well?"  Aether joined him at the table.

"May I take a sample from you as well?"  Albedo immediately turned to Xiao, who stood to your left.

"No."  I don't like this at all.  His eyes downcast to you, conflicted.

"Alright, then.  Do your eyes also glow?"

"No."

Albedo looked to you for confirmation, and you shook your head.  Hm, perhaps it is just a coincidence that they have the same eyes, then.  He returned his gaze to the samples.  "What strange results," he murmured to himself.  "You say you are human, yet your blood..."  It isn't like mine or Aether's DNA, either.  What biological component resides within you, I wonder?  "I cannot say for certain what is within you without conducting more experiments, but seeing as though you are running from Fatui, I suppose I'll have to wait for a more opportune time.  Please, return while you have a spare moment."

......................................................

"Your cover was blown?"  Signora raised a brow at her fellow harbinger.  "How did you manage that, Childe?"

"The target managed to convince the others that I'm being dishonest with my intentions.  I can't continue with them further," he lied through his teeth.  While it didn't play out as he had intended, it most definitely resulted in the rest of the adventure team's knowledge of the Fatui's plans if they hadn't known already.

"The Tsaritsa approved my plans," the woman peered down over the balcony.  "Your failure to keep our operation a secret will not impact them, but be aware they'll come back to bite you later."

"There's one other thing.  She received a vision."

"A vision?"  This brought her gaze back to Childe.  "From who?"

"The Tsaritsa.  Was that part of the plan?"

"Not at all," her eyes narrowed in the direction of Snezhnaya.  "What was she--No, no matter.  The plan shall proceed.  A little birdie told me the target and her little posse will be staying here for the time being.  We'll strike tonight," Signora surveyed the City of Mondstat beneath her.

......................................

The adventure team entered Angel's share as the sun set behind the hills.  Bennett had gone to check on all his dads at the adventure guild.  The tavern was teeming with the chatter of loud drunkards, melodies of a lone bard near the entrance, and the clinking of glasses.  Oh, and the hiccups of an incredibly drunk young boy that sat at the bar.

"Ah, the delicious--hic-- wine of Mondstat never ceases to amaze me!"  The boy raised his glass in the air, nearly spilling it over the rim.  His red cheeks provided a striking contrast to his green clothing choice.

Diluc stood on the other end of the barrier with an unamused yet slightly impressed expression.  He noticed your team's entering, and let out an exasperated sigh.  "This is glass fifty-two.  It's been less than half an hour since he started."

"H-How is that possible?!"  You stammered in concern.  "And why is he allowed to drink? He's practically Bennett's age!"

"U-Uh, well you see,"  Paimon fidgeted.  "He has a very high alcohol tolerance!"

Noticing your still-confused expression, Aether leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I'll explain later."  The noise that floated around the room concealed his words from Venti.

"Need anything to drink? Non-alcoholic of course," Diluc's eyes scanned the group until they landed on Xiao.

"I don't drink."  The yaksha left the group to sit at a table in a secluded corner.

"Not very sociable today," Paimon mused.  

"You received a vision," Diluc caught the glint of the pendant hanging from your belt loop.  "Congratulations."

"Thank you!"  You watched as he excused himself to pour a customer another drink.

"Ah, Trav--hic--eler!  It's so good to see you again!"  The boy noticed Aether's presence and waved you all over.  

"Hey Venti," Aether greeted with a slightly nervous grin.  "Long time no see."

"Yes!  Are you old enough to try the--hic-- wine yet? Oh?" His eyes looked to you.  "Hello! Are you a friend of Aether's?  Why don't we all share a drink together?"

"Oh, I'm not twenty-one just yet," you declined, eyes flitting to Xiao.  "Excuse me."

You sat across from Xiao and struggled to come up with small talk. He had been quieter than usual ever since you showed your vision to the group.  "What's on your mind?"

It took several minutes of prodding for him to finally respond to you.  "What were you doing in the moments that led to you receiving the vision?"

"What was I doing?" You were taken aback, but not surprised that he was still cynical of the circumstances.  "Well..." I was trying to protect you.  You wanted to convey those words but were still embarrassed of your actions.  Maybe you didn't deserve a god's recognition for barging into danger like it was normal.  A glum expression took over your face as you slumped in your seat.  You glanced up at him, only to find his cheeks slightly tinged red and that he was avoiding your eyes.  "What?"

"You really are one of the incompetent ones," he grumbled loud enough for you to hear.  

That's when you remembered he could hear every single prayer and wish about him.  It was your turn to blush now.  "U-Uh...um.  I didn't mean any of that!"  

Xiao's eyes flicked to yours, completely unconvinced of your lie.  "Of course."  You hung your head in embarrassment.

"I--Uh," you stood from your seat.  "I'm going to get some air!"  You climbed the stairs to the balcony on the second floor and shut the door behind you.

The cool air of the early night seemed to wipe away the stench of alcohol that had already begun to cling to your clothes.  It was a peaceful evening, what with the bright stars that shone in the sky and the occasional drunk laughter that leaked from the balcony door into the open air.  You admired the constellations for awhile until you felt the air get colder and heard the creaking of a floorboard to your right.  

"Sh--You scared me!"  You let out a nervous laughter when you saw the woman rise from her balcony seat.  "Sorry, I thought I was the only one up here."

"It's easy to be caught off-guard when you're distracted," the woman's lips curled upward slightly.  She made her way toward you, and you could finally make out the details of her figure.

She's dressed a little too formal for a tavern, you noted, yet you still admired how pretty she was.  White hair tied into an updo, a flowing gown that showed off her bust, she was downright gorgeous.  Still, you couldn't help but shiver.  Why was the air so chilly all of a sudden?

"You're not from around here," the woman observed.  "What brings you to Mondstat?"

"I," you started feeling uncomfortable in this dark setting, but didn't want to be rude. "I'm just passing through.  And you?  You don't look like you're from Mondstat."  You crossed your arms to trap the remaining warmth from the tavern around your body.  This woman showed more skin than you, but she didn't appear bothered in the slightest.

"An excellent observation on your part."  She stopped once she was maybe two feet from you.  "We were also passing through.  Isn't that right, Childe?"

Your blood ran cold in an instant, and Signora watched your face pale with satisfaction.

"I think I like it better in Liyue if I'm being honest," the voice you didn't want to hear greeted from behind your ear.  When did he get so close?  "Ambition over freedom.  But nothing compares to the beauty of our homeland."

You spun on your heel and simultaneously began to manifest a polearm in your nondominant hand.  You weren't quick enough, and Childe caught your arm.  Your heartbeat rushed in your ears as time appeared to slow down.

"You're still injured," Childe flashed a proud smile at the sight of the wound he had given you.  "You can't fight."

"Xia--!"  You opened your mouth to scream, but a feminine hand covered your mouth and restrained you.  It all happened too quick for your mind to comprehend, and the next thing you knew, she opened a portal in midair and was dragging you towards it.  Xiao!  Help!

"Prepare yourself, Childe," Signora warned.

"It'd be my pleasure," he conjured his blades and faced the door right as it was kicked down with a powerful force.  Xiao and Aether burst through.

"Let her go!"  Aether charged at Childe, giving Xiao the chance to aim for Signora's head.

"Xiao!" You managed to pull Signora's hand off your mouth and stretched your arm out to him.

He pushed off the balcony towards you, and was instead greeted by the hollow night air.  He crashed into the ground and sprung to his feet again.  The portal had closed.  Childe was gone.

You were gone.

.......................

Up Next:  Darkness, a meeting with an archon, and a quartet of harbingers.

[typekit]

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[capricornus-rex]

A Legacy Begun (9)

Chapter 9: A Padawan’s Trial | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

A/N: Didn’t have the time to switch on my PS4 just to customize a saber lol so I went to saberforge.com and used their 3D Saber Builder instead. Here’s what i made for Cassidy Kestis’s saber!

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

1 BBY

Your slender fingers wove Cassidy’s bright, scarlet locks into tight, chunky braids. You hummed her favorite lullaby—a force of habit—as you secured the end of the braid with a band. She skipped towards the mirror hanging on the wall and let her fingertips glide over her hair.

“Is that how you like it?”

“Yes, Mommy, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, darling,” you received your thanks in full payment of a kiss and hug from Cassidy. “Go fetch your things now. Don’t forget your jacket, okay?”

“Okay!” she hopped down from her bed and started rummaging through her cabinets for stuff that she’ll bring in the trip.

You excused yourself and exited her bedroom, Cassidy was too excited to coherently reply to your permission. The ten-year-old’s heart was racing, her mind imagined so many things that could possibly happen, and she began visualizing what the place would look like.

Due to her excitement, she didn’t realize that she had taken a bit of her time in packing. She had gone through a raincheck of the contents of her backpack thrice now. She hastily slung the bag on her shoulders and snatched her crumpled poncho lying on a pile.

“Coming, Mom!” she announced, speeding out of her bedroom to join her parents at the door.

She slipped her both her hands into you and Cal’s hands, the three of you left your homestead and trekked towards the Mantis waiting a few meters away from the house.

The ship’s entry ramp unfolded, Cassidy lets go of your hands when you’ve reached a certain distance between the ship, her backpack bobbed up and down in every step as she ran towards the luxury cruiser.

“Aunt Cere! Aunt Merrin!” Cassidy squeaked happily, attempting to fit both women in her scrawny arms.

“Cassidy! Look how big you’ve gotten!” Cere chuckled, her hand patted Cassidy’s head and then hovered it to the empty space to emphasize the girl’s height.

“Any longer and you might just out-tall me—if that’s even a word!” Greez came in waddling into the scene. He had all four of his arms open for Cassidy and she gladly threw herself into them.

“I grew three inches this month!” she bragged, then proceeded to tease him by tussling the non-existent hair on his head to further establish her taking the lead in this height race she has with the Lateron.

The captain grumbled, uncertain to the crew whether he was joking around or is genuinely frustrated that the once-tiny Kestis kid is getting taller and taller each month. You and Cal eventually caught up with the crew, greeting each other with embraces and claps on the shoulders or backs.

“She’s quite excited,” Cere’s eyes rolled to the side, referring to Cassidy who was now busy checking out the terrarium.

“Yeah, let’s hope the entire ordeal doesn’t deter her,”

“She’ll be fine, [y/n],”

Revisiting the engine room and then spotting the lone white cot on the side brought back a lot of memories, it’s as though a long time has passed since you and Cal slept here. It had become an extra room since the three of you have made a home by the forest in Zera III.

You approached the now-empty workbench, you weren’t used to seeing it bare, having only the non-slip mat left—it was eventually returned to its former, cluttered glory when Cal settled the toolboxes specifically for this trip.

“Everything she’ll ever need is right here,”

“Where is she?”

“With Greez at the cockpit,”

“Oh no, is she pestering him to teach her how to drive?” the idea seemed rich, you’re already imagining the Lateron dealing with the redheaded handful that is your daughter.

Cal’s mockingly pensive look and a quick glance to the direction of the door meant “yes.” The two of you laughed among yourselves, Greez’s shouts from the cockpit amplified the comedy that was playing out in your heads. When the laughter died down, you surveyed the quarters.

“Is it just me or did this room just got narrower?”

“Feels pretty much the same to me,”

“Yeah, brings back memories,”

Cal leaned closer to you, his warm breath blew on your shoulder and the hairs on your nape pricked up.

“Oh yeah, which ones?” he purred suggestively.

“Very funny,”

He teased you some more, brushing away the hair over your shoulders to expose your neck for his lips to brush against.

“Cal, not while she’s here,”

“We can always lock the door—say it suddenly jammed,” he nibbled your earlobe as his hand searched for yours to intertwine with.

He continued to suckle your neck, a weak yelp escaped your throat—his eyebrows flicked up upon hearing it, his lips curled in satisfaction as he continued prod the tip of his tongue to the crook of your shoulder. Your arm began to move by itself, reaching for the railing as support—you knew what your body was trying to make you do, with your only weapon being your willpower, your hand gripped the edge of the table instead.

“Well? How about it, love?” he sniggered.

You didn’t know why it pained you to pull yourself away, just when your body was beginning to heat up. You twirled to face him, looked him in the eye and gathered the guts to tell it to his face.

“Might I remind you that we have our daughter on board,” you steeled your voice, when you saw the puppy eyes being deployed, you bit your lip and fiddled with the buckle of Cal’s armor. “But later—when she’s sound asleep.”

A glint in Cal’s eye shone brighter than the white dwarf star found in Zera III’s sky. Amused, you stood on the tips of your toes to plant a tender kiss on his lips. You playfully clapped his chest with both of your hands before walking out of the quarters.

You switched on the holotable and typed the coordinates of Ilum. The message reflected on Greez’s computer and he charted the Mantis to its course.

“Now en route to Ilum!” the Lateron captain announced.

The family lounged in the holotable couch, Cassidy knelt behind Merrin in an attempt to braid her platinum hair which has grown dramatically over time—the length had already reached the center of her spine—and bantered with her father.

“Hey Dad, did you and Mom go to the Gathering together when you were younger?” Cassidy finally secured the twisted braid with a pin fastened to the back of Merrin’s head.

You and Cal exchanged glances, something warranted your eyes to meet. Then Cal quickly turned back to his daughter who now sat beside him on the sofa.

“No, we didn’t, unfortunately,”

“Would’ve been great if you did!”

“Yeah,” Cal trailed off, then returned his glance to you, a rather shy smile traced along his lips. “It would.”

The Mantis’s speed had slowed down, indicating your arrival in the planet’s orbit. Cassidy rushed to the cockpit. In her excitement, she stood between the seats, leaning closer and closer until she gets a better view of the ice-white planet that filled the roundness of her black pupils.

“Whoa, kid! Settle down, we’ll get closer in a few seconds!” Greez grumbled, both amused and overwhelmed by the kid’s wild hybrid of enthusiasm and excitement—honestly, he couldn’t tell which of the two anymore.

“Cassidy, you’ll hit your head once we get atmospheric turbulence,” Cal softly scolded as he assisted in flying the ship.

Cal cautioned her to buckle up and she ran to the nearest seat she could find—the chair opposite of Cere’s. The Mantis quaked as it cut through the thick clouds and heavy sheen of the snowstorm. Greez knew exactly where to the land—in the same spot behind a rock wall against the direction of the wind.

The child hopped out of her seat and sprinted towards the quarters where she had stashed her backpack. She moved with such brisk in the same fashion that one would be in when the phrase “This is not a drill” rings in an alarm. She slipped into the beige poncho with dark grey sleeves which she inherited from Cal. Despite the height she prided herself with, the poncho’s length fell to her shins—had she been shorter, it would have been a robe!

It didn’t bother her though, for she knew that it would keep her extra warm. She popped out of the quarters, the flap of the poncho billowing as she waddled about excitedly.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s already in the Temple,” Cal took her hand and the blizzard’s air wafted into the ship, sending literal chills down everybody’s spine.

“Cassidy,” the child glanced over her shoulder to the call of her name. “May the Force be with you.”

She repaid the greeting with a smile and then headed out of the ship. The coldest wind to have ever existed blew onto her already-numbing face, specks of ice pricked her freckled cheeks, and snowflakes have already adorned the twists of her braids as they billowed in the harsh winter gale.

“This blizzard is just the beginning, Cassidy! But don’t let it discourage you,” her father lectured as they stamped through ankle-deep snow—in Cassidy’s case, it’s calf-deep.

Her arm shielded her eyes as she felt the hand of her father on the small of her back, guiding her through the trek towards the entrance of the temple. A great mound of snow, perhaps meters thick, divided Cassidy and her kyber crystal.

“There’s no way we’re getting through this path,” Cal hinted, indirectly urging her to think for herself.

Admittedly, she didn’t anticipate that she’d be challenged head-on this soon. This didn’t discourage the Padawan, she unstrapped her backpack and fished out her own pair of climbing claws—she punched the wall, driving the metal nails into the rock face caked with ice and snow, and started scaling upward.

“Attagirl,” Cal muttered under his breath.

He watched his daughter scale the ice wall, Cassidy had become more acrobatic and lithe with her movements—something that she has utilized greatly to her advantage as she grew up with her training.

The beads of sweat freeze over her pores the second they come out, the closer she got to the top of the ice wall, the heavier her body felt.

“No…! Not now, not when I’m so close!!” she growled through clenched teeth, tugging her one arm out of the wall and then burying the claws again a few inches above her head to hoist herself up.

Come on, Cassidy! Pull up!

She coaxed herself mentally, a stripe of frosted sweat dripped along her temples until she finally reeled herself upward, scuttling through the snow to bring her body to the flat surface. She spotted a pair of boots planted on the soil, when she shot her head up, it was Cal; apparently, she was too caught up in reaching the top of the wall that she didn’t realize her father had beaten her to it. But it wasn’t a race, this was a trial—a trial that she had to face alone.

“Good job,” the emotion in Cal’s voice had unusually become stricter, almost sounding like Jaro Tapal. “We’ll be expecting you inside.”

Without awaiting a reply from her, he disappeared into the opening of the wall—Cassidy followed him into that opening and found an empty room. Another spherical entryway was found in the opposite side of the chamber; easily enough, she figured out the pulley mechanism to trigger the lens to open up, pooling the wall with golden light.

Cassidy followed the path that led to the platform overlooking the main foyer of the temple. She finds both of her parents by the ledge—her mother sitting erect yet relaxed while the father stood tall and proud, their backs turned against another lens.

As the daughter approached, her eyes widened at the sight of the largest crystal she’s ever seen—suspended from the ceiling, at the center of it all, white fog swirled in front of her as she exhaled her gasp.

“Impressive, and to think the main path had been blocked,” you began without prompt, drawing the attention of the girl to you. “But in this temple, you’ll find trials more challenging than the last. Finding one’s kyber is easier said than done. This whole place will test your mettle. Not only will the Force guide you to your crystal, but it will try you—constantly. Your training and skills are your only tools through this obstacle. We will keep a close eye on you, but everything you have to do—you do it alone. You do understand this, don’t you, Cassidy?”

“Yes,” she stiffened her demeanor and steeled her voice. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. May the Force be with you, my child.”

You channeled the Force towards the pulley mechanism, the latch tore off from the port and the metal cover rumbled to reveal a beam of the same warm, golden light. Cal aligned the giant crystal to the light, reflecting and extending the ray of light to the archway that has been frozen solid by another wall of ice. The ice transfigured into water at the mercy of the warm light and then turned to mist the instant it crashed against the snow.

That was Cassidy’s cue. Her Gathering had begun.

Marching through that archway felt like going through a portal to another dimension. Stagnant, cold air wafting through her freckled cheeks was her greeting, and the chill of the cave was her host. The spaciousness of the cavern took her breath away, freezing her lungs as she inhaled and relished in the unforgiving beauty and mystery of Ilum’s ice caves.

Surveying the vastness that stretched in front of her, no sign of her would-be crystal yet. Her eagerness has betrayed her.

“Come on, Cassy, keep moving,” she coaxed herself.

Cassidy aimed the center of the caverns with her eyes, then carved a path on her own towards the inner conclave—with her objective in mind—and disturbed the snow with the soles of her boots. There was an invisible line that she followed—she believed that it was the Force guiding her; but while she’s grateful of the guidance, the anticipation of a challenge, of a test, dangled in the back of her mind.

A rather narrow stone bridge appeared before her. It was fragile—almost too fragile, in fact, that the slightest blow of wind made the rock crack and dust off tiny debris and snow. But on the other side of the beam was much more stable ground, she didn’t think that the sight of such would be so attractive.

“Only one way to find out,”

She puts one foot in front of the other, her pads of her toes touch the first inch, she cautiously brings the other foot next without putting too much of her weight; in a feathery grace, she stretches both her arms for balance as she treaded through the balance beam.

The sound of the bridge giving way was trying to discourage her, but with every light step she takes, she brushes away the thought. Not long enough, she’s made it to the end. Cassidy exhaled sharply upon her realization, but the stone was already crumbling beneath her feet, and so she sprang away a split-second before half of it collapsed, falling into the foggy abyss.

“Did you hear that?” you snapped from your meditation—a way of tracking where Cassidy probably is at the moment.

“She’s fine. I can feel her footsteps from here,”

“I know. But this could possibly be the first challenge she’s faced so far,”

At her arrival of the empty conclave, the statues—caked with snow and whose details have been eroded over time—welcomed her with their hands clasped together. Fascinated, she takes a step closer, examining their details and textures, looking past the snow that obscured their features. This conclave was also the center of a crossroads; each path seduced her with the same end goal, but what they don’t show her is what lies between the crystal and her.

Like any other youngling with the thrill of harvesting their kyber, she wasn’t thorough with her thought process. She’s unconsciously imposed a challenge upon herself when she began going in and out of each pathway. The longer she finds herself losing her bearings, her anxiety, frustration, and impatience combined became louder. The snow and the cold air delivered these emotions to you and Cal Kestis.

“Do you sense it, [y/n]?”

“Yes, so many,” you replied as-a-matter-of-factly. As tempting it might be, you restrained yourself from connecting with Cassidy through the Force.

Let her learn. Let her do this alone. You chanted to yourself, training yourself do what’s on your mind.

It felt like the air had formed ice inside Cassidy’s lungs by now, after running around in circles for a good chunk of time. Vexed, she kicked a wad of snow against the tip of her boots; her little tantrum had allowed her to blow off some steam and thought of her Plan B.

Feel, don’t think. Cassidy recalls the words of her mother.

Keeping herself grounded, she closed her eyes, and concentrated—just as you taught her. Through her mind, she entered each one and saw what they have laid—dangling the prize in front of her like bait to a fish—using her instincts, she assessed them one by one. The moment her eyes shot up, she knew exactly where to go.

Inside the tunnel, it was dim but at the corner of her eye, a mischievous twinkle played with her vision but she never doubted it. She knew what it was. Cassidy followed the gold spark until it revealed itself—hanging by the point of a stalactite like a droplet waiting to fall. A meters-wide gap separated her from the natural enclave where the crystal awaited her.

“That’s it. I know it!” she gasped.

Cassidy didn’t waste any time in heading towards the crystal that calls her. It was the only thing that filled her clear, dark irises. She proceeded to traverse the hostile terrain. Sprinting to her left side, the rock pillars became her stepping stones, bringing her ever closer to her objective. The ridge wall at the end of the path connected her to the enclave.

Due to her over-excitement, a jump done too soon nearly cost her life. Her own climbing claws had her literally hanging on for dear life. Her startled cry ricocheted between the icicles, the echo caused the icy chimes to jangle in a tone-deaf song, the wave of anxiety that sourced from the young Kestis girl alerted her parents.

“She’s found it,” Cal declared.

You could only imagine how Cassidy is holding up right now. That cry that the walls of the cave relayed a different message, but one thing is clear: she’s in the middle of a struggle right now, and she only has herself to depend on.

“Come on…” you mouthed, barely a noise parting from your lips.

Cassidy scaled the porous ice wall, digging the claws deeper through the layer of snow until she could hit something solid. Her arm hooked on the ledge, pulled herself up and squirmed farther away until she’s gotten her body on the ground. Her head angled up, the crystal glimmered so brightly like starlight that she had to blink away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to it afterwards.

Her legs dragged on, summoning herself towards the crystal. When she got close enough, the crystal nestled between her fingers and she gave it a good, quick tug. She let the yellow shard roll on the whole of her palm, her heart leapt and she felt the air in her lungs warm up. She exhaled until her breathing transitioned into a triumphant laugh.

“I got it…!” she annunciated.

The second half of the challenge was finding her way back. Seeing that some portions of the path that led her here were only a one-time use; she retraced her steps—except the stone bridge that gave way, she had to think of another way. Fortunately, she was able to improvise another bridge by Force-pushing a boulder on her left side—landing it into a clean incline for her to slide down on.

From there, things were now easy for Cassidy. She hiked the snow-caked path and found the archway from whence she came. The sight of the giant crystal in the foyer washed relief over the young one, she kept her head high in search of her parents. They appeared before her, proud smiles riddled their faces to welcome her back.

“Well done, Cassidy,” you beamed.

“You have found your kyber crystal, despite the challenges that the Force bestowed in your path. Now, it’s time for you to construct your saber.”

Her parents regrouped with her on the ground level, she followed them to the entry blocked by the mound of snow. You and Cal glanced over your shoulders, fixating your eyes on your daughter.

“Together?” Cal invited.

The child beamed, she tucked her knees and extended her arms—mimicking the posture of her parents—and mustered all the Force she could gather in her being to blast away the mound of snow that barred their exit.

The storm had subsided when they got back out in the open. The family returned to the ship, and they were greeted back by the crew members, Cassidy was especially excited to show off the tiny yellow shard that rested between her fingers. Cal beckoned her to the workbench in his old quarters and showed her the toolboxes filled with components.

“There’s so many to choose from! How will I know which one is the right one for me?”

“You meditate on it as you build, trust your feelings. The Force will help you,” he directed. “It will guide you to what is best for you.”

“Okay… I’ll try, Dad,”

“There’s a good girl,” he kissed her forehead. “I shall leave you to it now. May the Force be with you, Cassidy.”

First, she dug through the container of components. For each and every part she examined, she selected the ones that might have struck something in her, much like a magnetic force that attracted her to it. When it was apparent that she’s finished choosing the parts—from the sleeve down to the emitter—she laid them out in a neat, straight line one by one, with the kyber crystal at the center of it all.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her entire body and began reaching out to the Force for assistance. Even with her vision shrouded, the components moved to her whim—they fittingly connect with one another. Her crystal nestled underneath her switch, the sleeve and pommel latched together. When the final click came from the emitter, she opened her eyes and found the finished product lying in front of her.

Shaky hands cradled the completed hilt, her thumb trailed towards the switch—she hesitated for a second before pressing it—the yellow beam that hissed out of the emitter startled her, but she quickly smiled it off and stared at the golden glow of her very own lightsaber. Finally giving it a feel, she waved it carefully in the narrow space, it hummed to the motion of its owner and she fancied a single basic spin with it.

Her heart jumped with joy, butterflies fluttered all over her stomach, and she celebrated this victory within herself. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of the bright golden beam.

“I did it… I DID IT!!” she squealed from the room, not knowing that her entire family overheard her little celebration.

[ckcker]

Fear of Being There

The scientists put 3D glasses on a cuttlefish I read in an article, which I pair with the unread email from a friend of twelve years sitting one tab away, it appears to partly be a link to some video.  Feeling brave, I gather speed and push to the open email, purposefully ignoring all of the friend’s written message to zoom into the thumbnail of the video link they shared with me, which shows on one side of the thumbnail the shocked open mouth of a drag queen reacting to what I assume to be the most heinous transgression.  On the other side, a porcupine’s needles blasting from inside the mid-section of what appears to be a burmese python.  “How could this scenario have ever happened,” I ask myself as I don’t click, then scan the message written above the link:

“are you still in Kansas City??”

“I saw our high school English teacher walking in the park with a huge clump of moss stuck on her ass, I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a long time”

“Carrie is in NA now and I never see her.  also I adopted a dog”

“I’m sad I haven’t heard from you in a long time but I respect that you are just doing your thing, doing what you think is best for you, I love you.  enjoy this video of a drag queen screaming as she watches a porcupine impale a boa constrictor from the inside, it really made me laugh.  It’s not real”

“I would love to visit some time if you’d have me, I would love a long road trip, no pressure.”  

All I ever felt towards this person was worry; they were frequently to be found painfully descending the valley of some knotty, unlubed parabola.  Suicide often seemed on the table though it was never openly discussed, and what was discussed and unburdened between us never seemed to offer this person any relief.  But, I had not seen them in almost two years — still, I worried.  The gristle of sympathy.  Though now I could only think this person a bit stupid for not electing revenge as the only compatible solution.  They wallowed, tried to make inroads on the community around them, multi-tasker, all I did was worry, wonder if there was no chance for them.  On my better days I in fact stopped worrying because I resolved to believe that there was no chance for them.  On worse days I used to encourage them to online date, to take classes in some technical craft and escape minimum wage, incredibly coming from me who has yet to escape minimum wage, I bloated them with the most despicable general advice most likely invented by some phantom community and popularized by rotating day time talk show cryptids.  I surprised myself, the self-help industry deluge came spilling readily from my own mouth, I had no other advice to give. No effect.  I had no idea what could help someone, I did not respond to the e-mail, the scientists put 3D glasses on the cuttlefish to study if it uses stereoscopic vision to hunt, love that.

I responded to the email by going out for a long walk.  The walk proceeded as planned.  And then, in front of my eyes, the glistening juice of a misdirected frappé bronzed itself on the sunlit sidewalk.  It was June.  The person who bought then dropped it when attempting to give their companion a lil sip seemed one or two involuntary grunts away from the most amateur keening. We did not know each other and passing by I said nothing, in another hour and a half it would be sunset and that was the daily alarm for my worst and most stupid memories.  

Walking without a plan for a couple miles had led me to nothing specific: a popular cafe with drive-thru option, and the entrance to some truncated nature preserve with an ample parking lot, that I barely observed.  The humiliated and frappé-less melody of the forlorn customer began to spread over my shoulder, I averted my gaze from the nature preserve to treat it as if an attractive face I was intimidated by.  The only use for such a pathetic nod to wilderness in an urban area should be frequent alien abduction.  I knew better than to hope for that, I was not a good multi-tasker and did best with a single plan of attack.  And I already had a good plan, through subtle make-up I was looking older by the day (more like the month).  Pretty soon I would dye my hair grey.  I considered it was something the young people of the era liked to do and not for the reason of appearing aged.  In fact, more than anything this coalition of young and old visual signifiers increased the proof of their wrinkle-free faces and accentuated the domineering stylistic awareness inherent to youth in a, unnaturally long energy-sucking sigh, capitalist country.  I continued to high step forward like a finickety markhor in a fugly mood. Then, finding myself facing a hard-to-cross state highway I concluded, “oh, haha…ok, ah……that’s fine” and turned back towards the unused nature preserve parking lot, “I am almost too far away from home anyway.” I sat on a curb on the side farthest away from the road.  Looking across the street I saw that the customer and friend had started to kiss.  A simple solution to the loss of the drink.  His body turned awkwardly, I allowed myself to espy the torque of the male’s twisted cargo short pocket and felt very little.  I was turned away from the forest preserve entrance, at sunset I would have the executioner’s urge to once again survey and prepare my Doha nights.  

The arrival of sunset did not derail my day, but it always succeeded in sequestering my concentration so as to remember that, perhaps, time — I felt fully sick of telling myself about it.  I would prefer an obsession more traditionally fun, there was something about the way the eyebrows (with near-unibrow between) met the sharp lines at the top of the hyrax-like nose of Q.C.’s gradually-hot-to-me face.  I did not spend too much time thinking on him, I had little control over my eyes when in his presence. Worse, attempting to appeal to him would mean calling off the whole ambitious deterioration project, which was fully under my control/the best path forward.  I did not spend much time thinking of him when not in his presence and the collective shimmy of maple tree leaves in the breeze appealed to my left side as it carried on through the row of trees behind me.  A sparrow bopped around the swath of thick grass to my right and was not interesting at all.  I knew I felt this about the sparrow because I turned away from it quickly.  Finally I rotated towards the nature preserve entrance.  Was this an opportunity for me to snag a poesis?  I wanted to be home in my bed alone.  I also wanted to pretend to be thriving, inspired and free.  I wanted to try to see the world for the first time again.  

I got up and started towards the forest path with the confidence and direction of the professional managerial class.  To appeal to Q.C. would involve a gravitational u-turn, I would have to cut my hair better, with more style and intention, I would have to once again attempt to wear clothes that mostly fit my body, with careful monitoring of the area where jeans could be hit firm with zested glute.  I would have to invest much mental analysis into determining how to embody his desire.  I would have to keep emphatic track of my body language and reactionary expressions when near him so as to appear at least some low level of confident and laid back.  The antithesis of an angry errant stump, sucking vengeance through an ancient straw lined with obsidian spikes that clacked ominously against dentures I did not need.  I could not appear as “depressed for two.” Again, and worst of all, I would have to deselect the only source of direction for the future, my only true idea for satisfaction: the pursuit of my literally new age.  My only chance to repair my original timeline, by controlling my own time.  The old tension between wanting badly to be noticed and desired by others, and wanting that definition of freedom which is the refusal of all external attention, both approval and disapproval, in order to bring about the most contained stability — of course that tension ran me ragged once again.  That wan zit, it really seemed scripted at this point, I worked very hard to send it to the background.  My body clearly sensed this when it activated the release of an ear wax ball the shape and weight of a gently used cheek piercing stud.  The feeling associated with its premiere and gruesome launch was similar to just catching the last concrete appearance and subsequent fadeout of a semi-interesting-but-ultimately-unremarkable ghost of a 52 year old coffee mug.

I entered the forest, which began with a layer of joyless mulch.  The opening of the trail had dimensions so wide even the most sexually depraved plant had little chance to gak its repressed gropeage on a passing body.  I looked up as I walked, realizing the only animal likely to be spotted here, at this time of day, would be a bird.  Perhaps I might see a hawk or turkey vulture.  My survey resulted only in the very soft swaying of stacked green branches in front of striated and unremarkable clouds.  After watching this gentle tableaux for about thirty seconds, I wanted to more than violently shake an in-his-prime Ansel Adams, ask him what in the unconscionably labyrinthine fauxhawk I’d just seen. Would he have looked twice at this sky — my glance still directed upwards, I heard its scabrous chirp before I saw it, and then I saw it and immediately hated its presence: a sparrow had landed on an oak branch forty feet above my head and wanted to stay there.  I refused to let it observe me, turning to it I suddenly screamed in the timbre of an aggressive synth orchestra hit.  Continuing my walk after compartmentalizing its non-reaction, I wondered how I might make these natural surroundings matter to me.  They made no inherent argument that profoundly engorged the fun bags, perhaps because I was generally hooked into things by chaos, aggression and arguments, not by continuity or bucolia.  I could identify the simpler trees at least.  Of course pines and maples were easy, birch too.  I could usually confirm oak and cherry through guesswork. Otherwise I wandered through a forest in a skein of unskilled silence, in some beta-level abyss that was never fact-checked.  I didn’t know if having the names of mosses and wildflowers and mushrooms made it easier to appreciate the woods I forced myself into.  That I recognized and questioned such absences in myself was part proof that I felt a large component missing in the ongoing construction of respect for humble surroundings, and part recall of an inherent tendency to not care much about my own construction.  Against the spirit of the times, I spurned the concept of “personal development,” both in the thought directives I gave myself, and in the level of base inertia and hatred of fitness that exposed me as down-low sirenia.  “Personal development” — I did not trust the idea.  But moderate walking was acceptable to me and I continued to walk.  All trees beside me were suddenly activated by a quite beefy breeze from inside the forest.  Mood was present.  And along the audio effects of the wind in heavy leaf-covered branches, I thought I heard a rustling in a different tempo one-hundred feet further along the path.  A clench shuttered my body.  Once, I was reckless.  I entered badly lit hotel rooms brimming with silhouettes of animatronic movements.  I took pills handed to me, only asking after I swallowed them what they were (bottom tier migraine medication).  These days nearly any situation outside my apartment brought the inflamed trance of cautious thoughts.  Where I seemed to hear the sound I saw nothing but the continuation of breeze, and felt fully the irregular welts of my prey mentality.  

But I did not turn to exit.  The introduction of humidity into early summer pumped a new game in me anyway, the godforsaken thirst for some swell of “possibility.”  Against my addiction to titanium cowardice, flicked this vague and acidic proposition for adventure — that most rancid word of careerist travel influencers and successful stunt doubles.  Heavy hot air seemed to ferment a perennial wildness of feeling that, in other weather conditions, remained neatly veiled in self-suck.  I hated that I could still be easily infiltrated by this hormonal illusion of “anything can happen,” despite all my malevolent associations with the phrase.  It was important to make a list of all the things that are possible. “Anything can happen” was a sloppy mantra full of menace and probably popularized at some point in the late 20th century to sell mini frozen bagels with pizza toppings.  The list of all the things that are possible is the list of most crucial truth, it is a list that serves as sublime prep for someone who has been through the full consummation of “anything can happen,” when the thing that happened was a mind-shedding, unmentionable thing.  I knew the culture at large was heavily against such a distrust of possibility, as the concept suggested monumental change and always for the better — the potential of fortune.  I also knew it was against the cosmetic grafting of extra skin to make what I suddenly decided to refer to as ‘my boys’ look especially wrinkled and saggy.  I stood still and surveyed the way partial sunlight glazed on and off the nearest bush of presumably poisonous berries.  I briefly turned around and took in the forest entrance in the distance, and beyond it the suggestion of abridged midwestern meadow, now also washing in and out of sunlight with an unpunished laze, that I felt very unused to.  Nowhere else in my life, to which I paid attention, obeyed that kind of rhythm.  This statement was immediately wrong and a direct contradiction of my slow motion lifestyle.  I allowed the statement to stand because its wistful gush was enjoyable, roughly spiritual, and juicy.  

It brought thoughts of a nightmare I once had that eventually, through sustained lack of action, curdled into just a dream, a dream that had a trolled atmosphere of never-ending.  A dream that felt three years long.  A nightmare-incubated dream that appeared seven months after that moment of apex possibility and only the second dream after.  

There was a group of us.  We were in a house, we didn’t know we were in a slasher movie, we had thought it was a self-liberation biopic.  We were pursued by a presence we did not expect.  But every time there was a shot of the killer, the killer had been deleted in post.  Only a tense and expectant camera followed us around, and we screamed at empty spaces at the top of the staircase and in corners of rooms.  Dissonant music accompanied us, which, now knowing we were in a horror movie, we expected and rolled our eyes at. But we never saw the killer and nobody ever died.  

I also remembered the first dream I had after the event, it was very short and involved me waking up at 7am to give a dog one cup of dry food.  The density of hanging leaves in the forest began to inch a feeling of haunch and ceiling overhead, the light landing on the settled foliage only in splatters of rhapsodic dag.  The inevitable feeling of being alone in the woods, despite the steady wash of faraway highway motors, is intimacy with something.  You believe you are not being seen, when small and mundane animals see you, it means absolutely nothing.  With a bear or mountain lion in the mix, at last you will truly feel “seen.”  I was in a freely neglected and shrunken nature preserve on the edge of a midwestern city, I did not think it was possible to be seen by a bear and so I did not feel like I could be noticed.  Thus I felt intimacy.  

The content of that intimacy had zero intellectual value.  It was only the comfort of being fully hidden, safe and alone.  I was impressed by how much thick cover the trees supplied since the preserve itself was state park theater.  The trees hid me from the sky, repressed my existence from something that could watch me.  I basked.  I thought of the substantial bulge of an older male in tight-fitting jean shorts.  In this context of feeling unseen, it seemed the thru line of my consciousness in bringing up such an image was the keyphrase, “something hidden.”  The intimacy began to retreat as a counter.  Again, my head disenrolled me from a healing terrestrial feeling; it looked at nature with vast inexperience, it pursued a perspective of mountainscape print out.  I tried to recover the hypnotic sap of that momentary solitude and continued walking. Of course the interruption of erotica in mind is one of the more iconic nature moves.  And yet for some reason it seemed to unravel the hallmark atmospherics of a more investigative mystery.  Such a divide was proven by watching my pivots of attention between two tickles.  For instance, on one side, direct observation of a boner. The other side, fog covering an empty island highway at night.  I thought I knew well the narrative arc of a priapism, and I thought I did not yet know much about the carnage in my seeping memories.  It seemed obvious — of the things that controlled me, I prioritized with meaning the one I did not know much about.  And instinctively, being alone under thick canopy felt like good setup for that kind of self-irrigation.  I thought of the bulge again then saw another sparrow and after it reasonably bopped about for a skoach I suggested to it, “get away from me fuckface.” Again it did not move.  

I walked several paces off the path and leaned against a definite oak trunk, wondering if my old person stage makeup was still intact, glancing towards the voyeuristic rays of sun slipping through the trees, well diffused and beginning their noticeable descent.  I listened.  After approx. twenty seconds of listening I heard the long-churning spew of a motorcycle gunning down the road about a quarter mile away, somehow powerful enough to overwhelm the peaks of forest ambience with its quite rascally discharge, hunh, the streaks of horrific classic rock revival spraying after it.  I thought, “stop subverting me,” then felt the newly introduced stance of someone in my peripheral vision.  They did not advance or retreat but did fidget.  Probably, I could not be sure without glancing directly, pretending to look up something on their phone.  They seemed about fifteen feet away from me, I considered if I would have to kill them in self-defense.  

“How’s it going?” a man’s voice directed at me from the trail, giving me permission to look at him directly.  A balding but well-maintained buzz of greying black hair, glasses, a thin white-yellow-green-black button down tartan print department store shirt tucked into leather belt and loose fitting blue jeans, the eye eventually and uncontrollably being led down to the neon pink, orange and yellow running shoes with white laces low-key dusted in a sampling of diaphanous schmutz.  My “hi” was squeezed out with full defenses.  The man did not say anything back but immediately enacted some plan of his, made obvious in his eyes that pressed on my face with an unmistakable singularity. He pursued unbroken eye contact to evaluate the potentiality of the interaction. I responded by looking away, remembering it was a powerful move in the game. I also refused to believe he thought me attractive enough for whatever in-development future passed through his turgescent nethers.  As a mature adult, I was no longer available to rawk out with my cawk out but clearly the cast of desperation on the man made it possible for me to appear sexually acceptable, as evidenced by his not leaving.  Nor did I imagine that he produced much foregrounded desire in an m4m community; lastly he probably stayed because he was closeted.  I tried to maintain an appearance of clueless indifference, comparable in chillness to deciding to write ‘U R’ in a text message the same moment you observe a plastic bag fly in the wind towards a sleeping stray cat. Since the man did not leave or say anything, I also waited another 7-10 seconds in silence and downward glance.  Yet this tactic, usually so effective in social settings, had failed, and so I looked at him again.  And again the charged stare of non-verbal magic.  The humid air was beginning to slightly cool as the wind filled the space between my collar and neck, suggesting it might rain soon.  But behind the man’s head the sun, flanked by fleshy lard-swept clouds in various indigo exposures, was still visible.  I hoped if the increase in gusts continued that they might produce a temporary bald spot on the crown of my head as I said, “why are you looking at me?”

He did not immediately respond, but severed all links with my eyes.  I watched his glance minutely dart from one close location on my face to the next, “do you have makeup on?”

Each generation, freer than the last. The man did not know the answer for sure, but that he had noticed something was confirmed.  Very exciting, I beamed internally.  I controlled the beam.  There was still so much work to be done.  

Towards the man I projected breathtaking displeasure.  I assumed the keyed up tone of someone wanting to be regularly shared on the internet: “I’m just trying to enjoy the forest on my day off sis so don’t—” and shut off inexplicably, though recognizing as the system recoiled that the implication of this man’s advances had lightly cracked some automated timecode in my lower lefthand corner of frame.  My body — I had only felt it all of a sudden.  Shoulders were arched forward to protect my underbelly, chest was swollen and stuffed with the debris of a delayed reaction of terror, single inconsistent tingle in left leg suggested the tiniest strobing marquee aimed at the brain, suggesting “run.”  I had thought, this is not a dangerous situation at all.  A little unusual but not something I haven’t experienced before.  Something I could refuse and easily walk away from.  

The body had behaved differently.  Sunset mounted.  The body had believed it was going to die.  I hadn’t even noticed.  Internal monologue always suggested much to investigate when looking for a solution, it presented long interconnected hallways and sliding doors, considerations of escape and tactical movement.  It berated the body for not reading the situation correctly or at all, it hated the body’s spontaneous and inept mechanisms.  It relished any reference to the phrase “bassackwards” but in this case the body was right.  If I was to be killed by this person was still up in the air, I leaned towards no, but the body had not been reacting to my imminent death, only suggesting how relaxedly I pretended to advance through commercial district sidewalks, gas station candy aisles, cruisy chip bag-strewn forest preserves as if I’d never been reorganized by some sort of adaptation of death in which you survive. There was much work to be done, much work, to make the hair of my eyebrows more profuse and unkempt.  My nose hair, which was way too thin and manageable, samesies.  It was with the failure of a deep breath that the gauze of that summer sunset coaxed me back into the scene, despite the marquee now reading “Run II: Darkest Before Dawn.”  The man had not known how to respond to my ejection from the clapback.  I took stock, the forest appeared momentarily still and squirrelless.  His energy seemed as if grappling with the possible realities of what I was.  If crazy, at least in the way that interferes with verbal communication, I was no longer an option in his “mmm………damn”-ridden design.  If crazy but able to continue clear conversation, or if so shy as to appear only intermittently awkward in conversation with strangers, I was still a highly available mark.  

“Do you like it here?” he asked.  It seemed that micro makeup and abandoned sentences were not considered dealbreakers for someone in his position.  My body continued to want to leave and I stayed, he took a few steps forward, staring again with that binary intensity where the recipient must commit to its endgame or flash exit.  

A strap broke in me: I suggested, “I hate it here.”  The comment reached him. He looked as if to be re-processing me under a blank face but maintained his slow approach.  I was answering his questions coherently and so I was incredibly sexy, perhaps.  “I’m not doing well,” I followed up, using a long-acting smile-to-smirk succession in an attempt to muffle it.  

This was ignored, “I’ve got a pretty big one,” silence, breeze, sunset, wow — squirrel, “what are you looking for out here, alone?”  

Silence, squirrel, “you know where you are, right?”

Breeze, trees, sunset, reggaeton in the distance, instinct erupted — I stepped forward. “It’s not yet time for my annual anal,” my voice cracked.  “In fact, it won’t happen this year, or ever again.”  

A pause was produced, though it was clear he didn’t quite grasp my meaning.  I stood still, now staring at him in order to properly knead the info.  Finally a look of understanding on his face — “oh, I’m sorry” and he exited back up the trail, all spells dismantled.  

I remained in the woods.  I looked at the squirrel.  I even yearned to see a sparrow, uninterested in knowing why.  I allowed the intellectual regulations to rest, I listened to the joyous pump of prancing squirrel feet on twig-bedazzled forest floor.  I looked at the sunset, while blocking the word “beautiful,” and liked it.  I walked to the path, turning away from the exit with the rush of a recently liberated preteen spray-painting an anarchy symbol on the door of a rusty abandoned sedan next to discontinued freight train tracks that are overgrown with weeds and yellow wildflowers.  I wanted to walk deeper into the woods, I wanted to be in the woods when it got dark.  I wanted to be alone and without a mind.  Knowing it was untrue, I nevertheless proposed to myself, “I think I could cum just from being alone for 3 weeks.”  After a feisty fifty or sixty steps around the curving path, I met chain link fence separating the forest from a row of backyards and their respective single family homes.  I thought of the cliche of an evil character in a kid’s movie laughing maniacally for some time then very suddenly stopping to present a severe and unamused face.  It surfaced as a whimper.  

[afreesworn]

Character Survey: Nabi Kharlu

RULES.  Repost, Don’t reblog! Tag  10! Good  luck!

TAGGED BY. @vysaldhe Thank you!

TAGGING. I’ve seen this go around so who hasn’t done it? @anchor-management! @shaelstormchild!! @jaliqai-and-company!!! @sentryandco?? @mirkemenagerie @trc-xiv @finishing-touch @ember-arrow @fatewalker @andarion @jancisstuff @gegenji @shadottie @zhauric @herd-of-halla (I’m sorry if you have already done this!) and anyone else who wants to!

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  Nabi Kharlu

NICKNAME :  None that seems to stick since her mother died.

AGE :  In her 20s.

BIRTHDAY :  Summer

ETHNIC  GROUP :  Au Ra, Xaela

NATIONALITY :  Of the Kharlu Tribe

LANGUAGE / S :  Common, Xaela, Hingan

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  Heterosexual

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Heteromantic

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  In a relationship with Anchor Saltborn

HOME  TOWN / AREA :  Born in the Steppe

CURRENT  HOME :  Shares an apartment in Shirogane

PROFESSION :  Herbalist, Alchemist, Healer

PHYSICAL.

HAIR :  Raven black hair that she keeps short and cropped near her chin

EYES : Warm gold

FACE : Sun-kissed complexion, soft features, usually with a look of welcome or curiosity.

LIPS : Smiles easily.

BLEMISHES :  None on the face.

SCARS :  Sometimes a few scrapes and bumps, but she is without any significant scars that would have resulted from any serious wound or trauma.

TATTOOS :  An ornate mark on her right back shoulder area.

HEIGHT :   On the short side for a Xaela.

WEIGHT :  On the thin side.

BUILD : Soft, although not unfit since she likes the outdoors, but she is by no means athletic.

FEATURES :  She has youthful features, with bright eyes that are most notable. Her usual cheerful outlook softens her countenance almost always.

ALLERGIES :  None that she’s aware of yet.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Trimmed around her jawline so it is easily tucked away, but left free and loose otherwise. 

USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  She can be intently studying an herb, pouring through books about alchemy, focusing on mending wounds, or happily chatting up with whatever customer that happens to find their way to her stall or clinic. Her general mood is usually buoyant and welcoming, although there is a certain softness that can be spotted around those she is close to.

USUAL  CLOTHING :  Varies between traditional Hingan fare to woven robes favored in the Steppe. Has a few traveling clothes that are neither, usually a loose comfortable cotton robe and leather boots. She is almost always found with a bag hung over her shoulder. 

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :  Losing her loved ones. Failing them. Drowning. 

ASPIRATION / S :  She won’t speak of it, but she has only one real goal in mind. To cure someone she loves of what is killing him. Other than that, she has no specific ambitions, only looks forward to discovering what brings joy. She has however kept certain promises close to her heart that she wants to see fulfilled. Something about new sunsets and beaches. 

POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Trusting. Kind. Optimistic.

NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  Hopelessly optimistic. Wants to see the good in all things. 

MBTI : ENFJ

ZODIAC : Virgo

TEMPERAMENT :  Phlegmatic

SOUL  TYPE / S :   Priest

ANIMALS :   Butterfly

VICE HABIT / S :   Rambling, Daydreaming, Throwing herself into work.

FAITH :  Vaguely remembers her mother talking about Nhaama, also believes there are spirits (kami)

GHOSTS ? :  Yes

AFTERLIFE ? :  In the aether stream

REINCARNATION ? :  Perhaps?

ALIENS ? :   From...?

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT :  Anyone that promotes peace she favors

EDUCATION  LEVEL :  ”Home schooled” by her mother

FAMILY.

FATHER :  Deceased

MOTHER :  Deceased

SIBLINGS : None.

EXTENDED  FAMILY :  Uncle and cousin(s?).

NAME MEANING / S :  Her father named her while she was in her mother’s womb, to signify her delicate beauty but also a new start

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  Anything that has to do with herbs. But she also likes romantic tales from foreign lands.

DEITY :  She respects both kami and Nhaaama.

HOLIDAY :  She is starting to try and observe some of the foreign holidays, like Nameday. But she always has celebrated Heavensturn.

MONTH :  The month when cherry blossoms are in full bloom

SEASON :  Spring

PLACE :  Home.

WEATHER :  She loves all sorts. Just when the cold is starting to give way to warmth of spring and the birds start to sing. The first sunny day after a snowfall. Cloudy windy afternoons that sends the colorful autumn leaves spinning through the air. That quiet and stillness just before rain is about to fall. She loves them all.

SOUND / S:  Mating call of birds in the spring. The sound of raindrops drumming against the rooftop. The soft babble of a running spring. Distant chirping of crickets in the quiet of night.

SCENT / S :  She enjoys the rich scent of nature in full bloom, from flowers to trees to various herbs. But there is a soft spot in her heart now for rosemary, and the briny scent of the sea.

TASTE / S :  Delicate tastes of Hingan cuisines and teas but also bold savory mixture of flavors from the Steppe.

FEEL / S :  Tingling warmth that rolls up to greet her touch.

ANIMAL / S :  Fireflies. And anything small and adorable.

NUMBER : “Do people have favorite numbers?”

COLORS :  Soft colors like pink and cream, but also rich earth tones.

EXTRA.

TALENTS :  Analyzing and mending wounds. Recognizing natural elements.

BAD  AT :  Knowing when not to empathize. Reading non-verbal cues of people when she is curious about them. Staying mad, she finds it exhausting. Hiding her emotions, it shows plainly on her face. 

TURN  ONS :  She isn’t the type to be easily turned on. But she does take note of those who are honest, even bluntly so, and those who let their actions speak for themselves.

TURN  OFFS :  Violence. Cruelty. 

HOBBIES :  Reading. Drawing. Gardening. Cooking. 

TROPES :  Ho boy. Lots. Some may be spoilerific.

QUOTES : “It’ll be alright.“

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 :  I’ve always wanted to see Cigarettes and Fireflies as an animated series rather than a movie, first season starting with the Underground Arc.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 :  Epic scores (I really love Hans Zimmer) for battle scenes, but also quiet soundtracks from Sleeping At Last for some private moments. But really, there are SO MANY TRACKS I have on the playlist.

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 :  My first main character, Roen, had just completed this huge three year arc of a story, and I wanted to write for someone new, someone who was extroverted, open, and personable. Roen was none of these things. I also wanted to delve into some mystical side of magic, and  the Xaela was introduced.

Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 :   Xaelas were one of my favorite parts from Stormblood. Shamanism and all that. But I wanted her to be also displaced from it, with a loss of identity in a way.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Sometimes, her reactions are not what come naturally to me. The things she would say and think could seem baffling to someone else, but I want it to make sense in her own head. There are times where I struggle to make certain her reactions feel natural, since I would have definitely lashed out more, been furious and or distrusting, but she decides consciously not to choose those paths. She is a patient and kind person above all, but sometimes I wonder if it comes off believable rather than tropey.

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 :  She derives a lot of satisfaction in helping people. She also likes to daydream. And seeing her loved ones be happy, makes her happy.

Q7 :  How does your muse feel about  you?          

A7 :  Nabi would probably adore my puppy and would approve of my doting husband. Probably also would like my career choice.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?        

A8 :  I love, LOVE the people I am writing with. They are all so fantastic. Nabi’s story wouldn’t be what it is today without Anchor. And we wouldn’t have ongoing arcs without Sentry, Ghoa, and Shael. Pjel recently jumped in, so I am quite excited to see how she gets to know everyone.

Q9 : What gives  you inspiration  to write  your muse ?        

A9 :  Music, sad and not sad head canons (thanks Anchor), lately some AU ideas (again Anchor’s fault), but mostly the RPers/friends I write with. They are AMAZING.

Q10 :  How long did this take you to complete ?          

A10 :  Too long for me. I have work next morning. Which is why I skipped the tropes.

The original art can be viewed here! 

[happyumbrellla]

Snk:Mafia!Omegaverse : Chap 10

Chapter 10 : Icarus

Mikasa came home from work to find Eren, sitting on the couch, knees against his chest:

        -“Eren?”

The young woman put one hand on her brother's shoulder:

        -“Are you okay?”

The Omega looked up at his sister:

        -“Yes… I’m fine. What about you?”

In reality, he kept imagining the horrors Levi could inflict on his victims just below his apartment:

        -“Are you sure? You don’t look very well.”

        -“Yes, yes, it is. I was thinking.”

-“What’s on your mind?”

Mikasa sat down next to her brother:

        -“Speak to me Eren.”, she said soflty.

        -“Did Kitz show you the pictures I sent him?”

        -“…Yes. He also told me that the exchange took place just after you left the station... While the team was in a meeting. So when you were alone. I wonder if he knows you're being watched...”

That’s a good question. He had to ask him that:

        -“What does Kitz plan to do with it?”

The Alpha remained silent:

        -“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on. And I preferred to know so I could protect myself if I had to.”

        -“Kitz is preparing an intervention team to go to the meeting points of the planned traffic according to the information you sent him.”

        -“But Levi will make the connection, won’t he?”

        -“And how? He didn’t see you take the pictures.”

        -“… No.”

But Levi would necessarily make the connection since he was the one who had given him the files... But what if that had been his goal? Levi had talked about using Kitz to eliminate some pests at Survey Corps. What if that's it? :

        -“He didn’t hurt you?”

        -“No. Levi is… Nice to me.”

        -“Be wary. I don’t know what he’s up to about you.”

        -“I’d be careful.”

The brother and sister huddled together for a while before deciding to bake the pastries for the next day. Lucky they have ingredients in advance. This time spent together discussing and joking did them the greatest good. It allowed them to meet again, a little like before. Without Levi, without the police and without an undercover mission.

The next morning, Mikasa helped her brother to clean the tea salon a little before the opening and left when it opened. Eren had been thinking all night and quickly came to the conclusion that he couldn't just go see Jean and tell him about the whole mafia thing. Even if they didn't appreciate each other any more than that, the Omega couldn't bring himself to put him in danger, and neither could Marco. He couldn't invite him here, it would seem suspicious since he had never invited him before. He needed a good reason. He knew that if he didn't have one, Levi would quickly understand his little merry-go-round and he probably wouldn't be happy about it.

Speaking of Levi, he had just walked through the door of the tea salon:

        -“Your phone’s been off since last night.”

        -“Huh…”

The black-haired man grabbed him by the collar and forced him to lean over the counter, face first, while rumbling with dissatisfaction:

        -“I can’t warn you in case of danger, nor can I track you if your phone is off. So you’re gonna do me the immediate pleasure of turning your damn phone back on!”

Eren had already felt Levi’s dominance, but at that moment it was overwhelming. He swallows:

        -“You’re scaring me, Levi.”

        -“Why did you turn off your phone?”

        -“…”

Levi let go and the young man took a deep breath to calm himself while he straightened himself up. The black-haired man went around the counter, grabbed Eren's neck and slammed him against the wooden counter:

        -“Outch.”

        -“It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped being a cheeky kid. Now answer my question!”

The young man tried to get away but Levi roared, crushing him further against the counter with his Alpha dominance. The boy submits. He stopped moving and leaned his head to the right to highlight his neck. The black-haired man roared again, but this time with satisfaction:

        -“Do I have to repeat myself, Eren?”

        -“I needed calm to digest the fact that you were torturing people below your house. It scared me…”

Levi didn't answer, but his free hand slipped along the Omega's body to the left back pocket of his jeans to grab his phone. The touch made Eren blush while giving it a certain... Pleasure:

        -“From now on, this phone stays on. Do I make myself clear?”

Eren nodded:

        -“I didn’t hear you.”

        -“Yes, sir.”

Levi’s grip slowly loosened:

        -“Good boy”, he finally said.

The youngest closed his eyes and sighed with relief. But he quickly reopened his eyes, squealing in pain as he received a good spanking. Eren stood up on his elbows and turned his head towards Levi:

        -“Next time, I wouldn't be so nice. So let's hope there's not a next time. Now, serve me a black tea with lemon.”

Eren realized that Levi's hand was still on his butt when it slipped on it before leaving it as the Alpha moved away to take its place at its usual table.

The Omega straightened up completely very slowly. And the rest of his movements were just as slow. Even though he felt Levi was calmer, he didn't want to upset him again.

It was while shaking that he placed the smoking cup in front of the mobster who already had his nose on his phone:

        -“Don’t be afraid.”

        -“Too late.”, blew the youngest before returning behind the counter to take care of his next customer.

Good thing no one came in when Levi was holding him against the counter.

As the water was heating up, Eren glanced at Levi. His eyes were always riveted on his phone. Was it for his work as a mobster or as a club manager?... Club! Here's an idea... A risky idea. How would Levi react if he found out that he had gone through Jean to get information? Did he want to take the risk of being killed? He didn't want to, no, but he had to talk to Jean. He could probably teach him more about the Omega protection system, and maybe even about Levi.

Eren took courage before quickly wiping his hands and sending a message to his group of friends. He was going to invite them to a party, but given what was coming up in a few days, he wouldn't be available until the following Monday. Except that the following Monday was December 24th, so there was no way out since he was invited to Arlets' house with his sister. But he could offer them to participate in one of the many special evenings at the end of the year that would take place everywhere in different nightclubs in the city.

It was the perfect cover to approach Jean without stirring up the slightest suspicion. After all, Eren was young and had friends to go out with. It would therefore seem logical for this group of young people to go out and have fun in a club. Did everyone still have to agree to come?

The young Omega glanced at Levi who had just got up:

        -“I won't come by tonight. I have a meeting with Erwin for the rest of the plan. Don't do anything stupid and don't turn off your phone. Do I make myself clear?”

        -“Yes, sir.”

Levi nodded slightly before heading towards the door:

        -“I'll keep you informed as soon as there's movement," he says before closing the door behind him.”

These simple words pleased Eren. Levi had taken his request into account... He still had to do it.

At the end of the day, Eren had received a reply from all his friends. They'd go out to clubs this Saturday. A week to wait... Curiosity was already eating away at him...

The next evening, Eren could see that Alpha was a man of his word. Levi called him after the salon closed:

        -“Kitz planned to stop the two operations I gave you before the end of the week. It's only a matter of time before he asks you for new information. Erwin has given his approval for the rest of the plan. So I'm going to give you some new opponent operations and this time, one of them will involve traitor of Survey Corps. At the exact moment he stops this one, I could complete my plan. And you'll definitely be safe.”

The Omega didn't really know how to feel in front of his words. How did he intend to keep him safe for good? Was he going to kill him? Eren swallowed. He was worried in the end:

        -“What should I do now?”

        -“Wait. I'll give you new instructions by next week.”

        -“Okay... Levi?”

        -“Yes?”

        -“Do you know I'm being watched?”

He heard a little amused laugh:

        -“Of course I know that. But we have security protocols to prevent any... Incidents.”

        -“When I called Gunther to take me to your place, did you know I wouldn't be followed? Did you know the team watching me was in a meeting?”

        -“I didn't know that, no. But Gunther followed the procedure... Nobody followed you, you didn't compromise me to the police. If that was the question.”

Eren sighed with relief. Even though Levi was a murderer and probably deserved to be arrested, Eren didn't want to find himself with the rest of the mafia on his back for causing their executor to be arrested.... But fatally, isn't that what was going to happen? :

        -“Good night Eren.”

And Levi hung up. Eren stared at his cell phone for a moment. Something had changed. He felt it in his belly. But he was unable to determine what caused this change.

He put his phone away when he heard little banging on his door. He opened it and found himself face to face with Mikasa:

        -“Yes?”

        -“Do you… Do you have enough to do with… You know?”

The Omega immediately understood what it was all about. His heat. It should arrive tomorrow normally. He always managed to forget it, until this little ritual between brother and sister:

-“I think so.”

        -“I'll be at Armin's, until you send me a message saying I can come back.”

        -“As usual Mika.”

Eren then noticed the bag at her sister's feet:

        -“Are you leaving already?”

        -“I think you'll make it on time. Your pheromones are already affecting me. I'd rather leave while I still can.”

Indeed, if his Alpha sister already smelled his pheromones, that means he was very close to his heats:

        -“All right. Let me know when you get to Armin's.”

        -“Yes. I'll put the sign on when I leave. If you have any problems, call me.”

        -“I promise.”

They hugged each other before Mikasa left the apartment. Eren was now alone for 4 days, suffering. Fantastic. But at least, customers would be notified of the monthly closing of the show. No one had ever made the connection since no one suspected him of being an Omega. The said Omega checked twice if everything was locked before sitting in front of the TV and watching a movie. He had to relax before he could experience Hell. Before going to bed, the young man took several bottles of water and food to his room. He had to stay hydrated and nourished, even during his heat. And he took all the blankets and cushions out of his closet to make himself kind of a nest. The Omegas used to spend their heat in nests of blankets and cushions in which only their companion Alpha was allowed. No one else. This nest provided them with a sense of security and immense comfort. Normally, a good Alpha respects his companion's nest and respects his willingness to accept him or not. Is Levi that kind of Alpha? What the hell?! What was he thinking about? Levi was not his Alpha, and he never would be.

If the young man managed to fall asleep, he was woken up at around 3 a.m. by his own body. He was burning up and his skin was hypersensitive. He slipped the sheet that covered him to try to keep cooler. The friction instantly gave him pleasure and he bit his lip to silence a moan... It had always been like that. The slightest friction on his skin electrified him. And even then, it was only at the beginning of its heat, it would be worse soon. Eren had already wondered if all the Omegas were as sensitive as he was during this period of torment. But he never dared to ask Marco. After all, it was a time that no Omega liked to talk about. It was far too embarrassing to discuss the fact that he was moving from being a thoughtful individual to a living creature only to satisfy his sexual and reproductive needs.

The young man could not hold back a moan of pure pleasure when he took off his pajama pants and underwear. He soon realized that his sex was already partially erect and that a sticky and slippery sensation was running down his thighs. Eren suddenly arched is back, moaning. The first full heat wave had just hit him hard. Eren’s wrist became active on his sex and he stopped holding back his moans. Pleasure flowed through his veins and he already felt his first orgasm building in the hollow of his stomach. His left hand stroked his chest before passing his fingers over his left nipple, causing his to feel an extra discharge of pleasure. He continued for a few moments, accelerating his movements before coming on his hand and stomach. The young man slowly lifted his hand covered with his own seed in front of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. It was his first orgasm, the beginning of his heat, his body was certainly sensitive, but he was not yet desperate. However, it was only a matter of time before that happened.

Before the next wave hit him, the Omega pulled the cardboard box containing his "heat kit" from under his bed. Either different models of sextoys, vibrating or not and lubricant. He would not need the latter, but he was soon to need his faithful 23 centimeters long and 4 centimeters wide god. What the hell would he do without it during this period of pure suffering? Eren grinned as he felt more slick running down his thighs. It was natural for the Omegas to produce this natural lubricant in even greater quantities during heat, but Eren hated feeling sticky, especially in this area. The young man sat on his heels while staring at the sextoy before exhaling deeply in an attempt to delay the new wave a little by relaxing as much as possible. But soon, he started getting hot again, getting excited for nothing and secreting more slick. He bit his lip, using pain to calm his body, but it was a lost cause. His erection was once again very present, as was his desire to cum. He sighed gently with pleasure as he began to play with his nipples, already hardened. Eren wrapped his fingers around his penis and moaned with pleasure while starting to move back and forth. However, despite intense stimulation to come as quickly as possible to soothe his body, he could not reach orgasm. He needed more. He needed to have something in him. Eren swung over on his back and spread his thighs timidly. He didn't like doing that... Wasn't there a way for an Omega not to suffer his heat? He slipped his fingers all along his body before gently placing them on his perineum. He slightly arched his back under the discharge of pleasure before letting his middle finger into him. His muscles relaxed without any problem to let him go as far as his hand would allow. He soon added a second finger and then a third. The room was filled with the moans of the Omega and the wet noises produced by his digital comings and goings inside his body. The pleasure ran the slightest nerve end of his being and the young man felt the orgasm approaching fast:

        -“Levi”, Eren moans.

And the young man tensed suddenly, because of the orgasm but also because of what he had just said. He had not realized until then that he was calling for Levi, that it was his hands he imagined on him, his body against his own. He no longer cared that Levi was a murderer. He needed the Alpha by his side. This realization terrorized him. He had become attached... He had become attached to a being who would no longer give him any attention once this whole thing was settled. And there was nothing the young man could do about it. A tear rolled down his cheek and a sobbing escaped him, but it was not because of the frustration of already being desperate again for a new liberation. It was indeed sadness. Now that he had become attached to one Alpha, it would be difficult for him to detach himself from him for the benefit of another. 

The Omega tried not to let his mind offer him imaginary scenarios with Levi, but... It was a lost cause. He had no control over anything at all, neither his body nor his mind. And the latter created exciting scenarios always ending with the Alpha making him come, once or several times, and knotting him to make sure that his seed remained well inside his body to fertilize him. At this thought, he let himself descend further along his sextoy, shouting with pleasure when he stumbled against his prostate. He waved his hips faster and faster, alternating with movements from top to bottom, giving himself more and more pleasure until he could enjoy himself on his sheets.

Eren had just had his... He had lost track of how many orgasms he had had. He was out of breath and breathing quickly as the same time, desperately trying to catch his breath. He painfully opened one eye when he heard the ringing of his mobile phone. He stretched to grab his cell phone and answered without looking who was calling him:

        -“Hello?”

        -“Is everything all right?”

The Omega opened his eyes wide while biting his lip. A new wave of pleasure had just passed through him... Just by hearing Levi's voice, he wanted him:

        -“Eren!”

        -“I’m… I’m fine.”

        -“You haven't left your apartment and I haven't seen any movement in there since this morning. What's going on?”

Eren slipped a hand on his belly to his pubis before slowly starting to caress himself. The desire was too strong, the need was too strong:

        -“Eren! If you don't answer me, I'll come and break down your door.”

        -“… Heat.”

The Omega arched, moaning with pleasure as he stroked his glans a little harder. The precum and the rest of his previous orgasm flowing along his penis largely helping his movements:

        -“Ho… I…”

Levi was babbling? It was indeed a first:

        -“Call me if you need anything. I’ll send Gunther or Erd…”

        -“Talk to me.”

Eren surprised himself by saying this. But he wanted to hear Levi for longer. At least for that heat wave:

        -“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Eren.”

        -“Please, please, please. Levi… Alpha.”, the young man squealed.

Levi roared with satisfaction and Eren purring with happiness:

        -“Have you thought about me?”

The young man replied by a pleased moan:

        -“You’re not mine yet, Eren, but the second I mark you, you won't be alone for your heat. I'll take care of you. And you'll never think about using your accessories ever again. You'll only think of me and only of me.”

        -“Levi”, the Omega moans.

        -“What do you want Eren ? Tell me.”

        -“I…”

The boy arched when his sextoy hit his prostate and he shouted with pleasure without any embarrassment at all to be in line with someone, with Levi. All that mattered was to reach orgasm to calm this heat wave:

        -“I don’t see you, Eren, it’s a shame.”

        -“I… I can’t open the… Curtains…”

        -“I’m not asking you to. I prefer to wait until I am with you for your next heat to fully enjoy the view.”

If Eren wasn't already red like a tomato, he would be now. The young man was both embarrassed that Levi could see him like this but also even more excited than he already was:

        -“I’ll caress every inch of your body to find every sensitive spot. I would use them all to do you good. To give you so much pleasure.”

The Omega accelerated his movements, giving himself more pleasure and inevitably getting closer to orgasm. He felt the foreshadowing contractions of deliverance working his muscles:

        -“Are you about to cum?”

        -“Soon.”

        -“Did I give you permission to do so?”

Eren squealed with frustration:

        -“Yes or no Eren?”

        -“N-No.”

        -“So don’t you dare cum unless I tell you.”

        -“Please.”

        -“Please what?”

        -“Please let me cum. Please. Please. I need it. Please Alpha”, begged the Omega without stopping his movements with his sextoy.

        -“Um…”

        -“Please.”

        -“Cum for me.”

It didn't take much more for Eren to do it. His back arched as he screamed with pleasure and his muscles contracted around his sextoy. He ejaculated on his belly, adding a little more seed on his body. The Omega was now relaxed and was trying to regain his breath and spirits:

        -“Do you feel better?”

        -“Y-Yes. Thank you Alpha.”

        -“A pleasure. Now, rest... And know that I'm watching over you.”

Eren smiles like an idiot at his words:

        -“Thank you Levi.”

        -“Sleep.”

And the Alpha hung up. The young man stood still for a moment before putting his phone on his bedside table, wrapping himself in one of the blankets on his bed and falling asleep, happy.

When Eren opened his eyes that morning, he knew that his heat was over. He was relieved, but he was exhausted and his body was totally aching. He blushed as he thought about what had just happened. He would never be able to look Levi in the face now... But damn it, that orgasm had been intense. Perhaps even the most intense he's ever had in his entire life.

Looking at his phone, the young man smiles. Saturday, 11:46 am. He had finished his heat in time to go to the club tonight. He connected to the group conversation he had with his friends and read all the late messages. Most wanted to cancel the outing while Jean claimed that they could still go without Eren. To which he replied that he would be here tonight. The Omega smiles at the various reactions of his friends. And of course, Armin, Mikasa and Marco advised him not to come. It was too early for them. But Eren didn't care. He had to talk to Jean and there was no more waiting.

Eren pulled himself out of his bed, removed his dildo from inside him with a shiver of pleasure and dragged himself to the bathroom. Taking a shower did him a lot of good. He was able to get rid of his sweat, the dried sperm on his belly and the excess of his natural lubrication. And all his muscles relaxed slowly, temporarily removing the pain of aches and pains. So the young man stayed there for a long time. Then he warns his sister that she could come home after work to prepare with him to go out. Eren didn't do much the rest of the day, he was saving his strength for tonight. He was going to need it.

Mikasa returned around 6:30p.m. :

        -“Are you sure you want to go?”

        -“Why not?”

        -“Because you just finished your heat and you’re still releasing attractive pheromones.”

        -“Considering all the pheromones and other strange smells that there will be in the club, I doubt that anyone will notice mine.”

        -“I’d stay with you anyway.”

        -“If you will”, sighed the young man.

He didn't want to argue with his sister. He was too tired for that and had his mind elsewhere. Eren had decided to wear some of the provocative clothes he had bought when he went shopping with Levi:

        -“But how you dressed! You’re going to go change!”

        -“Mikasa… Leave me alone. I’m not going to risk anything with you sticking with me all night. So let me wear the clothes I want.”

The Alpha didn’t really have time to answer that her brother was already putting on his jacket to leave:

        -“I guarantee you won’t leave my field of vision. »

        -“As usual.”

The Omega should have been nervous. He was going to confront Jean, under the nose of Levi, or one of his teammates. He was going to play a dangerous game. So he should have been nervous. But since he had just finished his heats, he was more tired and uninhibited than nervous.

Eren doesn't notify Levi of his departure. Anyway, the Alpha was forwarding him, so he'd know he was on the move.

The brother and sister took the bus to Armin's house. The little blond boy didn't really want to come, but as soon as he knew that the exit was maintained despite the fact that Eren had just come out of his heat, he was convinced. He wasn't going to leave his best friend unattended where Mikasa couldn't follow him. The trio went downtown and they found the rest of their group in front of the club Connie had chosen:

        -“He doesn’t smell that much”, Sasha pointed out, sniffing a little Eren.

        -“No, but he’s sexy like that”, Connie answered.

The bald man took an elbow to the ribs from his girlfriend:

        -“Come on, let’s go”, Eren said as he walked toward the queue.

The Omega stretched himself as he felt his mobile phone vibrating in his pants pocket. But he didn't look. On the contrary, he took great care to ignore this in order to focus on Armin:

        -“Are you all right?”, whispered his best friend.

        -“Yes, why?”

        -“Well… I know your heat are particularly intense so… I wonder if you’re not too tired.”

        -“A little. But it's going to be okay. And then, if I don't feel well, I'll go home with Mikasa.”

        -“We agree.”

After less than ten minutes, the group finally entered the nightclub. It was different from Levi's. Eren shook his head, he probably shouldn’t think about Levi. Definitively not. The group settled in a corner, on corner sofas:

        -“Who wants to drink what?”

        -“Take a bottle of vodka and we’ll do shots.”

        -“All right.”

Jean turned his heels and walked towards the bar:

        -“Wait. I’m coming with you.”

Everyone looked at Eren strangely:

        -“What? He can’t carry everything by himself.”

The Omega pulled the Beta behind him, all the way to the bar. They leaned down there waiting for the bartender to approach them to take their order:

        -“How are you feeling?”

Eren was surprised by Jean's question. He wasn't the type to care about him:

        -“It's okay... I feel a little tired, but it's okay.”

-“Don’t push yourself.”

The Omega exhaled deeply:

        -“I need to talk to you Jean...”

His phone vibrated in his pocket, which cut him off in his sentence:

        -“What about?”

Eren took his courage in both hands before saying:

        -“I... I know you're in the mafia, Jean.”

The latter suddenly stiffens before laughing, clearly nervous:

        -“What are you talking about?”

Eren leaned forward:

        -“I know that the Survey Corps mafia has set up an Omega protection system and I know that you are in charge of Marco's protection.”

Jean clearly began to look around him before leaning towards the Omega:

        -“I don’t know what told you about that, but you're not supposed to know.”

        -“But I'm an Omega, why didn't you tell me about this?”

        -“Because you already have Mikasa to protect you. And because, you can believe me, you don't want to be in this system. Marco, for example, I have to monitor every move he makes, follow him everywhere and report weekly to my supervisor. And again, since he's my boyfriend, I don't maintain continuous supervision to give him some air, otherwise our relationship wouldn't hold. Do you see yourself with someone following you everywhere, all the time, noting all your interactions and reporting them to a mobster?”

Jean turned his head sharply towards the bartender who was approaching them:

        -“What can I get you?”

        -“A bottle of vodka and 9 glasses of shots, please.”

        -“I’ll bring it to you right away.”

        -“Thank you.”

Jean brought all his attention back to Eren, the smile he had given to the bartender had disappeared from his lips:

        -“Don’t count on me to get you into the system. That's not a good thing, especially with a police-sister.”

        -“I’m already…”

He was interrupted by the bartender who put the bottle and glasses in front of them:

        -“50 please.”

It was Jean who paid for everything before sticking the bottle in the hands of the Omega and taking as many glasses as possible:

        -“Take the last ones.”

The Beta didn't waste any time before joining the others, leaving Eren a little behind. The latter grinned, he hadn't managed to finish his sentence and now that Jean was being held up, it was over.

Jean settled as far from the Omega as possible and huddled against his own. Eren shopped shots after shots to forget that he had just taken risks for nothing and that Levi would most probably kill him that very evening.

So it was a little/much drunk that the young man went to the dance floor with Conny, Sasha, Historia and Marco to start "dancing". Since he was more or less convinced that he would die soon, he didn't really care what he had a hand on his hips and with whom he danced.

Around 3am, Eren had his head in the toilet bowl and was vomiting all his guts because of his alcohol abuse. When he finished, he looked in the mirror and was almost scared. He was as white as a sheet, already had small rings under his eyes and clearly looked like a dying man. But vomiting had allowed him to regain a little bit of his senses. The young man poured fresh water on his face. He suddenly felt his phone vibrating. Who could have called him at 3:00 in the morning? He sighed before picking up his phone and realizing that it was Kitz. What could the policeman want at that hour?

        -“Eren! You’re not supposed to see Levi without telling us.”

The Omega frowned:

        -“I haven't seen Levi without telling you... Not since the first pictures I sent you.”

        -“How could you provide me with last night's information in this case?”

        -“What the hell are you talking about? Since last night I'm in a club with my friends, we're still there.”

Kitz remained silent for a moment before saying:

        -“Eren, I want you to tell me where you are, join your friends as soon as possible and stay where you are. I'll be there with backup immediately.”

        -“What's going on?”

The boy had a bad feeling about it. Something was wrong:

        -“I received an email from you last night. And this email allowed me to stop a night gun transaction involving Survey Corps members.”

        -“I... I didn't send anything last night...”

        -“That's why I'm asking you to tell me where you stand, go back to your friends and stay where you are. Now!”

Eren slowly detached his phone from his ear and looked at his screen. His eyes opened wide when he discovered that he had 3 messages from Levi.

« I advise you not to talk to Jean about your situation, Eren »

"I see you didn't listen to me. And you allow yourself to seduce half of the Alphas in this pretend club... Very good."

"You leave me no choice. So I'm going to take matters into my own hands. »

The Omega did not waste any time before rushing to the toilet door. He just had time to open it and come face to face with Levi. And the half-smile that stretched his lips did not bode well for anything:

        -“Hello sweetheart.”

Eren swallowed before taking a step back, just to feel his back meet the door:

        -“Do you know what I do to people who don't listen to me and who disobey me?”

Levi's body was now glued to his. The Alpha was certainly smaller than him, but the boy felt very small right now. Eren was terrified. But no one was coming to help him. Everyone around them was dancing glued and tight. Some of them even kissed more than languidly and it was like wondering if they weren't going to get laid here and now. The black-haired man approached his face until he could whisper in the hollow of the youngest man's ear:

        -“I punish them.”

A long shiver of pure terror ran its spine.

The young man had a burst of courage and pushed the Alpha away from him. But the latter grabbed his wrist and pulled him to himself. He put one hand on his mouth so he wouldn't scream:

        -“You've done enough fooling around tonight. I would be you, I wouldn't make any more waves. Especially since your friends' lives depend on you.”

Eren stopped moving to escape Levi's iron fist:

        -“If you look carefully to your right, you will see Gunther and Erd. They're just waiting for a sign from me to shoot your friends.”

The young man felt his eyes getting wet:

        -“Are you going to do what I tell you now?”

The Omega nodded feverishly his head:

        -“Good boy. Give me your phone.”

Eren obeyed and saw the Alpha hang up and drop the small device on the ground:

        -“Come with me.”

The Omega closed his eyes and felt his tears flowing but he did not try anything when Levi took his hand to drag him out. Gunther and Erd joined them near the door. Erd passed in front to open the door for them while Gunther closed the door. The Omega turned his head one last time towards his sister and their eyes crossed.

Mikasa's smile faded when she saw her brother with Levi and the sad and scared look on his face:

        -“Mika...”

But by the time she got up to join him, the black-haired man was pinching the side of his neck, causing him to lose consciousness.

Masterlist

© 2019 - Happy Umbrellla - All Rights Reserved for this text. No reposting and/or modifying of any form on any media is allowed. No translations allowed.

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Accidentally In Love (Futaba/Goro)

Summary: AU—no personas. Futaba Sakura is the most introverted girl you’d come by at Shujin. She’s also the best person to commission for love letters. Too bad Goro’s not easy to fool. Futaba/Goro

Disclaimer: I don’t own Persona 5

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

“Thanks, Futaba! This letter should do the trick!” Ryuji grinned, looking it over. Futaba gave a grin.

“No problem. Maybe this one will be the one to finally ensnare the ice prince! Send my regards to our client.” Futaba bid him farewell as he hurried off while she pocketed the money, grinning excitedly. Soon she’d be able to buy that new computer she wanted!

If anyone were to ask about Futaba Sakura, they’d say the first-year student was very shy and kept to herself. She never really spoke in class and would often squeak if she was called on. No one paid her any mind—she didn’t really have any friends, and that was okay.

She was also the most poetic and romantic student at Shujin.

Now, it was an accident when Ryuji Sakamoto, her senpai a year above her, found her scraps of poetry, but apparently her scraps were so perfect he begged her to let him use them to confess to the girl he liked. He even offered to pay her. Futaba, shy and anxious as she was, just nodded rapidly and collected the money.

When Ann Takamaki squealed out a yes to him, apparently that spurned others to consult him on also helping them to get their crushes to like them. Ryuji secretly approached her again, proposing the idea they make a business out of it. Ryuji would be the decoy while no one really knew it was Futaba writing love letters for clients instead. Not even his now girlfriend, Ann, knew. That suited Futaba fine—she didn’t want people bothering her—Ryuji was the better one at handling people. Ryuji got recognition by their clients and Futaba got money—it was a win-win arrangement.

Without anyone realizing it, she was actually the one responsible for most, if not all, of the Shujin couples getting together. Makoto Niijima and Akira Kurusu were the school’s golden couple while Yusuke Kitagawa and Haru Okumura were praised as the school’s cutest couple and Yuuki Mishima and Shiho Suzui were the athletic couple—the list goes on really.

However, most of her customers consisted of girls vying for the most popular boy in their school, the Ice Prince Goro Akechi. So far no one’s been able to ensnare him, and Futaba grew frustrated as she composed letter after letter to make him fall, but alas, nothing could crack that exterior. It was maddening.

‘Oh well, at least his continuing single status is earning me a steady income.’ Futaba snorted. Only Ryuji and her shared their secret, and no one was the wiser it was actually introverted Futaba Sakura who was capable of composing such beautiful poems and love letters. Not surprisingly, all the success of her writings has given her a bit of an ego boost, and she knew once the Ice Prince fell for someone eventually, she could bask in success at her writing skills for years to come. Maybe she had a future in writing? It was a nice thought to Futaba.

Futaba continued to muse, cackling internally at her possible ego boost if this letter was a success, sweeping her empty classroom. Today it was her turn to clean the classroom and she wanted it done quick because tonight was curry night at the Sakura house with her mother Wakaba and her father Sojirou. She could hardly wait.

So immersed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the classroom door slide open and a student slipping inside.

“I’m surprised. You really put your all into this one.” A smooth voice cut in. Futaba felt her heart jump and she whirled around to see Goro Akechi surveying a note he was holding, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye.

“A-ah! Akechi-senpai! Didn’t see you there. S-Sorry!” Futaba’s face flushed, her anxiety coming at full force. She was only ever comfortable with Ryuji these days. She bowed her head, avoiding looking at him. “I-Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually.” Akechi told her smirking, pocketing the letter. He walked towards her and Futaba gulped, backing up into the wall. Akechi towered over her, his arms on either side of her head, trapping her. “Please stop writing love letters for my fans to give to me. It’s awkward turning down girls when you know the letter is from someone more sincere.” He stated seriously.

“W-What?!” Futaba’s eyes bugged out. How did he know?! Her and Ryuji were always careful with their secret business, yet, Akechi still figured it out!

Well there goes that ego boost she promised herself…

“It was easy to figure out there was a pattern in each of the letters. It only made sense they came from one person.” Akechi elaborated. Futaba gaped.

“B-But how did you know it was me and not Ryuji?!” here Akechi appeared insulted.

“Do you honestly think I’d believe Sakamoto, the guy who forgets his anniversary and doesn’t even know who Shakespeare is, is a Casanova with writing romantic poems?” Akechi quirked an eyebrow at her in challenge. Futaba looked away, cursing. He had a point… “All I had to do was see who Sakamoto hangs out with and it was a no brainer to connect the dots that him and all his friends used the same person to get their crushes to like them. Plus, he’s the only person who talks to you and vice versa.”

As Akechi continued stating his findings, Futaba felt an arrow shoot through her at every piece of information, her soul leaving her body. When he put it like that, it really sounds like they haven’t been trying to hide it at all…

“Okay! So I wrote all those letters! What’s your point?!” Futaba exclaimed, mortified he knew her greatest secret. “Are you going to laugh at me?!” her entire face was flushed, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cry in embarrassment. Akechi blinked.

“No, I actually wanted to ask you out.” Akechi simply stated bluntly. Now it was Futaba’s turn to blink, flabbergasted. She repeated his words in her mind over and over and it still didn’t click.

“P-Pardon?” Futaba spluttered. Akechi’s eyes darkened and he brought his hand up to grasp her chin in his fingers.

“I want you.” Akechi told her seriously, his heated gaze made Futaba’s stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Wait—what?!” Futaba gaped. Akechi chuckled, his face giving off his usual princely smile, releasing her.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” Akechi grinned. Futaba huffed.

“Never mind that!” Futaba tried to control her blush from his words, but it wasn’t working well. “Why do you want me?! We never even spoken!” she protested.

“Technically you’ve spoken to me through your notes. Even if they were made for others to give me, your words were sincere. You see me, even if you don’t realize it.” Akechi said smiling softly. Futaba blinked. “As sappy as it sounds, I fell for you deeper and deeper with every word you wrote to me, and I decided if I didn’t make a move, you’d never approach me and keep composing notes for other girls to give to me while never figuring out why I kept rejecting them.”

“Errr well…” he was right. She would’ve never connected the dots that the reason he was rejecting her indirectly was because he wanted to be with her directly. The whole situation seemed so bizarre when she kept thinking about it.

“So, will you?” Akechi brought her out of her musings.

“Errr will I what?” Futaba questioned. Akechi clutched her chin once more, bringing their faces closer. Futaba could feel his breath fanning her face, and it made her heart pound erratically.

“Will you be mine, Futaba?” he intimately addressed her by her given name. Futaba’s blush flared up to the point her cheeks were practically glowing. What does one say when they manage to max out their stats to ensnare the most popular boy in the dating sim?

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll be anything you want.” Futaba blurted dazed from his intense gaze and then slapped a hand over her mouth, squeaking. She waved a hand in front of her to wave what she said away. “Sorry! Forget I said that! I wasn’t thinking!”

Meanwhile, Akechi was watching her, eyes glinting, and smirk wide. Futaba continued to babble and he grinned, placing a chaste kiss on her lips to stop her rambling. Futaba froze as Akechi separated from her, eyes bright with affection.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Can I walk you home?” he asked politely. Futaba clamped her mouth shut, afraid she’ll say something dumb again, and nodded. He grinned in delight, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers as they left the classroom together.

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

Sorry this one is short. Just wanted to write a short cute oneshot for Futago. wanna write a fractured fairy tale on them but having a hard time coming up with a prompt. Feel free to suggest things. 

[smcclennan]

Progress of start-up venture

So far I am finding the process of starting this business very challenging and rewarding at the same time.  The main challenge I have faced so far is finding clients, so I will have to make advertising a priority.  Ads that I have posted on free media sites have not drawn any clients so far and need to be paired with paid ads on key sites that will target my ideal customer.  This will be the main expense that my business will have over the next 8 weeks remaining in the course and in the future.  Another concern for me was privacy, so I created a separate business email account to use moving forward that doesn’t include my full name.  I want to ensure that I am keeping this business separate from my personal email as well as from my other full-time job.

The prospect of actually receiving clients has made me think a lot more about what I am going to need and I have been working to implement those items.  Advertising needs to be done, but I also need to have a good ad to post that is clear and gets to the point of what services I am providing with limited space on a page.  I also need to provide my clients with quotations and invoices and realized that I needed a template for that.  Payment terms and payment methods also have to be worked out and professionally communicated to any clients.   

Overall, I think my plan is coming together and each week I am answering more questions and moving the idea forward.  I have learned more than I thought I would about starting a business and I am excited to get my first clients and see how the plan I have created will work.  I am going to create a client satisfaction survey to send after proofreading and editing services have been provided to see where the process can be improved.  Going into this course, I was nervous about my abilities, but I am confident now that I can make this work and I am excited about the future of this business.

[fierycosmos]

DMC One-Shot WIP

WIP featuring my OC Kaylin "Kay" Vandal

Build Up: notes to know before dialogue/story starts    - meets dante post-dmc 3 plot once he’s named his “agency” Devil May Cry    - she meets him at the bar she’s a regular at thanks to the owner being her friend and while she’s there hanging out and scouting out the bar for her job the owner gave her, dante plops down next to her and he orders a drink    - being dante, he noticed that kaylin is a girl and begins to flirt, but when she spots him for the first time - not really taking note of him initially - she looks his way and gives him a look he never expected that quickly changed; her expression starting as uninterested, to being horrified, then calming down to focus on staring at him judgmentally - and these reactions make dante curious to keep talking to her aside from hitting on her like he planned on    - she dismisses him and talks to him regrettably and looking distractedly into the crowd of the bar, and when she sees what she came here for and she brushes off dante to focus on her goal    - dante watches as she walks away and saunters toward a man and starts chatting him up, he at first assumes she knows him and/or is dating him, but the man’s surprise and surveying of kaylin (who dante even has the learned the name of yet) and she begins to openly and heavily flirt with the man    - dante rolls his eyes and tries to throw a joke at the bartender that kaylin was talking to (aka her friend and the owner) and the bartender pays him no mind as he goes to help another customer    - when dante turns around to see what else kaylin was going to do, she already had an arm wrapped around the man and leading him out of the bar and laughing at something he said    - dante assumes that she is a prostitute and makes a sly comment about happy he didn’t “tap that” - but that’s just kaylin’s cover, as the man walking out with her to head somewhere more “private” also assumes the same as dante as that was what kaylin wanted d    - she leads the man into a secluded alley not far from the bar and pushes him up against the wall and presses herself sexually against the man’s body and begins opening his jacket    - the guy’s really into it and hardly focusing, except appreciating her touching him how he wants    - but without the man knowing, she begins to unsheathe a dark dagger from behind her shoulder blade that was unseen by everyone and while making eye contact with the guy with half-lidded eyes she quickly stabs him in the gut and a sizzling sensation radiates from the stab wound and the guy begins to cry out in agony but she muffles him by stuffing the sheathe of the dagger into his mouth to muffle his pain    - as she uses her other hand to begin twisting the dagger in the man, the man’s hands fly up to her neck to try and halt her movements, and though it causes her pain, it doesn’t stop her from taking back the dagger out from the man and stabbing him again and he begins to bleed out profusely, and then the burning sensation and burn marks travel further up the man’s body and begin crawling up his neck and slowly the man transforms into his true demon form and his hold on her weakens until she pushes him back against the wall, stepping away and watching as he slowly falls to the ground    - as the demon is dying, kaylin whispers to him “this is for all the women you murdered bar-hopping through my town.” the burn marks completely encase the demon’s body and he dies there. taking a breath to contain herself and rubbing her neck gingerly, she bends down to take back her dagger from his chest, again whispering “enjoy your everlasting suffering.” and she cleans the knife with a rag from her back pocket. once it’s clean, she sheathes it back on her shoulder and disposes of the rag as the demon body turns to ashes and blows away when the rag comes in contact with it    - when kaylin returns to the bar, the bartender/owner looks at her in appreciation and admiration. when dante, sipping his drink in his solitude sees the look on the bartender’s face - when he tries to get the bartender’s attention himself for a refill - he sees where the man’s looking and is surprised to see her back already    - kaylin takes her spot back at the stool she was in before and smirks at the bartender and for a while he smirks back at her, but then sees the redness from the demon’s grip on her neck beginning to bruise, he gets concerned and asks if she needs ice    - feeling self-conscious, she touches her neck again, and dante also takes note of the choke marks that are forming and leans in to listen to their conversation, but despite the concern from the bartender she denies the offer for ice and shrugs it off    - even with one hand caressing her neck gently, she holds out her hand to the bartender, and he gets to work    - once done, he plants the drink in her hand Dialogue: to continue off right where notes end “ah, my favorite.” she takes a gentle sip. “you shouldn’t have.” “made it just how you like.” the bartender gloated. “you always make the best of the best.” she chimes as she holds the glass up in a toasting manner before placing it back down. “but i think you’re forgetting something.” she holds out her hand again. “of course.” the bartender rolls his eyes playfully before going to the cash register and serving up the money he owed. “your tip.” “thank you.” she counts it out in satisfaction, and then ponders something while holding a twenty dollar bill. “though, here’s extra for you to keep.” she places the twenty down for the barteener to grab. “you sure?” he asks with his hand on the money but not withdrawing just yet. “yeah, it didn’t take long.” kaylin chided with a wave of her hand, pocketing the money. “if that guy’s out there somewhere, want me to kick his ass?” dante interrupted . “no thanks.” she replies quickly and monotonously without paying him any more mind, but dante was not so deterred by her aloofness. “by the way, isn’t it supposed to be them who tip you?” he inquires. “i’m sorry, does this look like your business?” she finally glances at him sideways, gesturing between herself and the bartender. “well i’m sorry sweetheart, but i’d keep what he offered for what that guy gave you in return.” he gestures to his own neck. “how naive of you to think you understand my profession.” she turns her gaze back to her glass and sips it again. “oh, i’d be delighted to know.” dante wiggles his brows suggestively, flashing her a playful grin. “sorry, i’ve clocked out.” she says unapologetically, placing the glass back on the counter, but somewhat louder than necessary and her knuckles turning white as she tightened her hold on the glass without meaning to. “seriously?” he leans away slightly in disappointment. “what, too soon?” he teases her further. “how about i’m not going to give you anything.” she turned her head in his direction and intently glared daggers at him. “since i’ve gotten here, you’ve hated my mere existence? what, do i look like an ex of yours?” dante pried. “no, i just know your kind.” she leans her elbows forward on the bar top and cradles her drink. “a man-hater, huh? well i’m afraid you’re in the wrong profession if that’s how you feel.” he taps his knuckle on the counter to get another drink. seeing dante’s gesture, the bartender was about to counter back but kaylin holds up her hand and gives him a pointed look. he sighs, preparing a drink for dante again begrudgingly. while the bartender works on the drink, dante and kaylin have a stare off, each of them wanting to win for different reasons. kaylin has to do everything in her power not to jump the man before her and strangle him to death. now finished, the bartender slides the drink over to dante, not wanting to get near him, and dante takes a big swig. “i don’t hate men, just your type.” kaylin replies, leaning an arm on the counter and sending dante a sneering look as she leans  towards him.   “you haven’t even gotten the chance to get to know me, let’s role play so i can show you what you’re missing. let’s start with introductions, i’m dante, and you are?” “are you really that dense?” kaylin asked sharply, having enough of his games as he drove her patience out of existence. “i’d rather say i’m determined.” dante winks at her, causing kaylin to slam her fist on the table and causing some heads to turn in their direction. “listen here.” she growls through gritted teeth. “i don’t want to play your games. in fact, i wish you’d stop existing.” “wow, i’m hurt.” dante feigns a broke heart. “and do you want to know why?” she eggs him on. “enlighten me.” he leans in, thinking he’s close to wooing her after all. “i don’t need to know who you are, because all that matters is that you’re just like the man i took care of.” “now that’s just rude, putting me in the same category as that lame-o. for the record, i would never do that to you.” dante tries to reach out his hand to kaylin’s neck in emphasis his point but she smacks his hand away harshly. “i -know- what you are.” she declares venomously. “come again?” dante clears his throat after taking another sip from his drink, banging his fist into his chest for a brief moment, making kaylin’s glare grow cruel and as if she’s enjoying herself. “i can -see- you.” “see what? my dashing good looks?” he takes another swig, dante as confident as can be. “you -reek- of hell.” now that finally got dante to change tunes, as he glanced her over once more like he was doing so for the first time earlier, finally making his flirtatious behavior evaporate. “so why don’t you do us all a favor and crawl back where you came from before you’ve reached your limit.” she mocked, tapping on his glass. “or if you’re that desperate to really piss me off, i’ll get rid of you myself just as fast as that ‘lame-o.’” “no thanks.” he gulps the rest of his drink down, clanking the glass back onto the counter. kaylin looks at dante expectedly, but he ignores to avert his eyes off her to peer at the bartender again. “i’ll take another round, actually.” “what?” bartender gaped, surprised by his request, which dante found odd as the man was in fact a bartender and taking requests for drinks was his job. “you surprised i can handle my liquor?” dante jokes. “-what- are you?” kaylin seethes. “second guessing yourself? and you seemed so sure.” dante replies teasingly with a grin gracing his mouth again. both the bartender and kaylin are in shock. but while the bartender has his jaw agape, kaylin’s shock quickly evolves to flaring anger and she clasps dante’s jaw between her hand and squeezes firmly, her nails slightly digging into dante’s clean cut cheeks. “why aren’t you throttling at the mouth?” she’s baffled. of course dante could easily remove himself from her grasp, but he was enjoying her reactions and decided to not make a move yet. she turns back to the bartender, who hasn’t yet awakened from his shock. “you made the right drink, didn’t you?” “i added an extra shot just for my own amusement.” the bartender admitted quickly, as he began to shake himself from his slack-jawed awe as he backed up slightly in fear. “oh? is that what i taste?” dante asks, removing his face easily from kaylin’s grasp and analyzes the glass he was drinking from. “and i thought you were just doing me a solid.” dante sighs, putting the glass down. “well i hate to break it to you, but i’m not your run of the mill demon.” “then -who- are you?” kaylin demands. “about time you asked the right question.” dante grin grows. “let me reintroduce myself: i’m dante, demon hunter, owner of Devil May Cry.” dante pushes a calling card with his logo on it to kaylin, and she looks at it without touching it. “at your service.” “what?” kaylin shakes her head, not sure she heard him right. her mind still caught up on the thought of demon and hunter being used together by this stranger in front of her. “where did i lose you?” dante asked with a sigh. “where you’re a -demon- and you -hunt- demons.” she emphasizes placing her finger on the card where it says what he supposedly claimed to be true. “well, i’m only half-demon.” dante corrects her. “a halfling?” she blinks at him in surprise, and then looks down on the card and picks it up to inspect more carefully. “i’ve only heard rumors. but i suppose that explains why you flicker the way you do.” “i ‘flicker’?” dante reiterated, not sure on what she meant. “when i see a demon disguised as a human, it’s very clear to me, but you... you’re different. i guess with being half-demon as you say you are, it’s not surprising you fluctuate a lot between human and demon.” “well bask while you can because unlike you, i’m on the clock.” dante taps his wrist that has no watch to emphasize him standing up. “and speaking of me and my job, i went out of my way to come here to ask you something.” he directed his attention back at the bartender. the bartender looks behind him, hoping he’d find someone else on duty with him that drew dante’s attention. the bartender was still uneasy from dante just casually throwing it out there that he’s half-demon. ignoring the man’s obvious discomfort with the scenario, dante pulls out a photo from his coat pocket and slides it along the table for the bartender to see. “have you seen this man before?” “no, what’s it to ya?” bartender retorts barely taking a look at the photo, acting just as standoffish as before. “damn, trail’s cold again. guess he must lurk around another bar.” “wait, you said you hunt demons?” bartender asked bravely, repeating what dante had said. “i do - present tense.” dante retorted. “but that’s just some schmuck.” bartender stated, taking another look at the photo, this time more seriously. “i was told that’s what the demon looks like.” dante shrugs. he reels the photo closer to himself and turns the photo to now face him. “could be the parents are paranoid for their dear old daughter about dating a boy they don’t approve of.” “so the parents are aware of demon threats?” kaylin pipes in, leaning in as she’s intrigued by dante’s story. “not many people do.” “yeah, but it could be a waste of time if he turns out to be some schmuck of a human.” dante sighs, a little aggravated with no results. “could i take a look?” kaylin reaches for the photo but dante draws it back out of her reach. “why should you?” kaylin rolls her eyes and tries more seriously to reach for the photo this time, but dante planned for that and stood up from his stool, photo still in hand. “and why do you suddenly care? you hated my mere existence from the second we’ve met.” “just humor me.” kaylin insists, this time holding back an eye roll. “you know him?” dante asks, taking another look at the man in the photo, then peering at kaylin again, still looking wary of her getting involved. “no, but i can find out.” kaylin assured. after a beat, dante shrugs. “whatever. look as long as you want,” he tosses the photo towards her and it lands on the counter. “but there’s not much to go off from looks, like your pal said, he’s appears normal.” “just be patient.” kaylin chides him, and he sighs and backs off with his arms up in a defensive manner. she takes off her right fingerless glove and underneath it on her palm dante could see a black mandala tattoo there. “cute tattoo.” dante remarks. “shush.” “fine, fine.” dante sighs and waits impatiently. she places her mandala-tattooed hand flat on top of the photo and shuts her eyes. dante exchanges a look with the bartender and the bartender rolls his eyes and gestures to keep watching. after a moment with her eyes closed, kaylin’s eyes widen but her once blue irises were now almost pearl white and she stares ahead. you can tell she’s seeing something as her eyes move around as if seeing something in front of her, but nothing in the bar had changed. after a few more moments of kaylin and what looked like her staring into space, her eyes shut quickly and tightly closed and she removes her hand from the photo and cradles it to her chest gingerly. after a pause, she opens her eyes again and her original eye color has returned. dante, though confused, looks between her and the photo she was palming just a second ago. she’s breathing a little leisurely, but turns to dante and nods her head at him. “so what’s the deal?” “he’s a demon alright.” kaylin bites out. “a strong one too.” "how’d you figure?” dante inquires, more suspicious than before of her. “this mandala helps me channel my abilities. i'm a medium.” “ah, so that’s what makes you tick.” dante relaxes. though he’s never met a psychic before, things about kaylin in his eyes were starting to finally piece together. he sat back down on the stool next to her, leaning in to hear more. seeing his curiosity, kaylin decided to humor him after taking in a deep breath. “yes, that’s how i knew how that shit and you were demons.” kaylin relaxes somewhat and removes her hand from her chests, but clutches it with her other still. “i’ve been helping my buddy out here keep his bar demon-free.” “and what? you got a paper cut or something?” dante peers down at her hidden hand in her lap. “i know the demon you’re hunting’s strong because he caught me looking for him and he retaliated.” she said holding up her hand to show the damage, but despite the blood dripping down and the burns that had formed on her palm, the mandala looked no worse for ware. “no ordinary demon can do that.” “let me get one of my cheap bottles for that.” the bartender spoke up, rummaging through some drawers under the bar for alcohol to disinfect the wound. “or i could take a look at it?” dante offers, back to being flirtatious. “no, the alcohol will do.” kaylin insists. “besides, this isn’t any ordinary tattoo. my witchy friend gave it to me and used magic-infused ink. so it’ll heal soon.” the bartender retrieved a bottle he deems suitable and kaylin holds out her hand, and he douses it in the alcohol. kaylin only wincing slightly, but never redraws her hand. the bartender, thinking he’s poured enough, caps the bottle and hands her a cleaning rag to dry herself off with. “so what happened to the demon you canoodled?” dante asked, getting back on the topic of her. “firstly, i don’t -canoodle- targets.” she states, not liking his phrasing. she finishes drying her hand and puts her glove back on. “and as i have you, i made him think i’m just some escort, but,” she unsheathes her dark dagger from her shoulder. “i too hunt.” “but what’d that guy do?” “are you -defending- that hell-spawn?” kaylin accuses, her grip on the dagger tightening. “no, i just want to understand why you haven’t tried stabbing me with your cute butter knife.” “don’t think i haven’t thought about it.” she grumbles, placing the blade down on the table with a thud. “and if you must know, that pest has been hopping around bars in the area raping and murdering any girl he can get his hands on and then moving along before anyone’s the wiser.” “i didn’t want that kind of reputation to leech into my fine establishment, and i have my secret weapon to thank for that.” mister bartender pipes in, making another drink for a customer while sending a smirk kaylin’s way, which makes her smile in return. “so i laid some bait for the freak and then stepped in to finish him off.” kaylin oversimplified. this was a more complicated matter than she usually takes on, as she normally just waits around the bar for a demon to waltz in and then devises a way to get him alone and make the kill. “it seems like you’re more of a demon cop than any other demon hunter i’ve met.” dante quips. “i suppose, i don’t have a business like you.” she points out, waving his card around her face. “i just help out my friends when they spot something’s off.” "so, just so i’m clear, you don’t want to hunt me?” dante pried hopefully. “that’s still up for debate.” kaylin cooed, seeing if she could make dante sweat. but when he seemed impatient fora definite answer, she conceded. “but at the moment you’re not posing any threat, so no, you won’t die tonight.” “-you-, giving -me- mercy? not what i was expecting, but i’ll take it.” dante grins as he goes for his drink again, but finds it empty and gets disappointed and the bartender makes sure to ignore. “don’t push it.” kaylin warned. “now,” feeling more relieved than before, but less drunk he would have liked to have been, he turns his attention full force back to kaylin, “on to more important matters.” “hm?” she humored uninterestedly, as she goes to finish her drink. “may i -now- have your name?” she almost chokes on her drink at his request. she clears her throat and then gives him a pointed look. “if you don’t tell me, i’ll be forced to come up with a nickname for you. and so far what i’ve gaged of you, you wouldn’t like it. though i gotta say, i’m not bad at picking them.” “no nicknames.” kaylin stated adamantly. dante quirks a brow at her in anticipation. sighing through her lips, she deflates visibly in her shoulders. “i suppose you’ve earned it.” she turns her body towards dante again and with no amusement in her voice holds out her hand for him to shake. “Kaylin, or Kay.” “great.” he turns the handshake into him holding her hand and planting a kiss on the gloved surface. “then i’ll see you around, Miss Kay.” she retracts her hand as soon as dante’s grip loosens. “will you now?” she theatrically shakes the hand that he kissed to show her disapproval. “yeah, this guy lives in the neighborhood. so you’ll see me around here again for sure.” “wonderful.” kaylin rolls her eyes not even attempting to feign excitement. “besides, i’m not through with you yet.” “you’re not?” “how have i in any way come off as inviting or into the notion of you coming back to bug me again? because trust me, i think i’ve had enough of you for a life time.” “we’ll save that debate for next time.” dante gives kaylin a finger gun and a wink before getting up from his stool. “if there’s a next time.” she emphasizes. "when there’s a next time.” dante counters as he makes his way towards the door. “where do you think you’re going?” the bartender hollers after dante’s retreating form. “to continue with my work.” dante calls over his shoulder. “not without paying you won’t!” the bartender yells. “put it on my tab!” dante waves to kaylin and the bartender, still not turning around. "what tab?” kaylin snorts. “the one i’m opening right now. starting today, i have a tab.” “wait a sec!” the bartender was about to go around his station to charge after dante, but kaylin stops him with a wave of her hand. “let him go.” she sighs, finally feeling like she could relax with dante retreating outside the bar door’s entrance. “if what he says is true, though i’d hate to admit he meant to be serious,” she jokes darkly, still hoping she wouldn’t have to deal with him any time soon, or ever again. “he’ll be back.” “like i want him around any more than you do.” the bartender complains, resting his arms on the table top in annoyance. “and yet i wonder what am i to do if he doesn’t come back? those ingredients for poisoning demons ain’t cheap you know.” “oh, you know me,” she takes out the card she swiped from dante, “now that i have something of his, i’ll track him down.” the bartender gives her a look that shows little faith. “and his wallet.” she tries to appease with a grin that made the bartender for a second think of a look dante just wore, but thought better than to voice that aloud.   

_______________________

PLEASE TELL ME if Dante sounds OOC or not - PRETTY PLEASE! If there's anything you need to take away from this and you don't want to read the rest of what I have to say, PLEASE COMMENT and tell me if I got his character down or not! Without out of the way - as I know people don't always like to read descriptions of fics, as I've been guilty of this too - I now am in LOVE with Devil May CryI've watched all the movies for the games, looked up reviews by several youtube peeps, watched several playthroughs, and I can't get enough <3 And as I do with any fandom I adore... I made an OC (no one should be shocked by this point, I'm terrible)

This is Kaylin "Kay" Vandal The "star" of this one-shot (ficlet? idk) I ship her with Dante I have to say

I worked longer on this than intentionally planned I just wanted to write down how Kay would come off when first meeting Dante, so I began writing down stuff she might say in response to Dante being his charming goofy self...And it turned into what could be the first line of many of posts starring Kaylin bumping into Dante and evolving their meeting into a friendship, and then into a relationship Also, tell me how Kaylin sounds... She may sound annoying or super tsundere, but I wanted her to come off the way Lady did when she initially met Dante (in DMC 3) - so I hope that's reflected properly. ALSO, on an even BIGGER NOTE, I refer to Kaylin as a medium in this story: Firstly, I didn't know whether to call her a medium or a psychic so if it's better to use "psychic" in place of saying "medium", let me know

Second, the only time I've heard of a psychic/medium being in the series at all was when I watched the movie version of DMC: Devil May Cry game AND I NEED TO EMPHASIZE I DON'T LIKE THIS GAME - just watching the movie was painful - I want Kaylin to be in the canon series of Devil May Cry, and I note in the beginning of this that their meeting takes place shortly after the conclusion of Devil May Cry 3, so even if I got the idea of having my OC being a psychic/medium from the character Kat from DMC: Devil May Cry, I will NOT recognize the game outside of this short reference. (as I thought it'd be an interesting idea rather than just making Kaylin a human demon hunter, cuz Lady already fulfills that role beautifully) anyway...sorry for rambles

god that was exhausting to make clear ~ Enjoy Sorry if the notes are a lot to read, this doc will eventually be edited so it reads like a normal one-shotBuuuuuut at the moment, I'm lazy, I feel like I went beyond what I sought out to do already, and I just want feedback PRIMARILY on the dialogue

Obvs the notes before the dialogue starts are to clue you in -while reading this- to where I'm dropping you when I start the dialogue

So you COULD skip the notes to get to the dialogue, but I feel as though you might be confused

Just saying...

And finally, sorry nothing's capitalized...my Notes app didn't offer it and I didn't feel like adding it if it's not going to automatically correct it or underline it in red. ~

BONUS: comment below with a suggestion to name the bartender! I couldn't think of one when writing. ~ so DMC everything is owned by Capcom Kaylin belongs to me   

originally posted here: https://www.deviantart.com/ancientwhitefire/art/WIP-DMC-Kaylin-Meets-Dante-790610585

[cheerysmores]

Between Espresso and Roses (Part thirteen)

-

Phichit has everything in place.

The lights are soft, the tables spotless and the good apricot pastries he normally hides for himself in the kitchen out on display.

“Perfect,” he murmurs as he surveys his work, gently adjusting the one remaining bouquet Celestino has begrudgingly allowed them to keep on the table nearest the counter. He thought about lighting some candles but decided he didn’t want to come on too strongly at first. If there’s one thing he’s not going to do, it’s fumble with his first proper impression.

Date number two however...

As he scrutinises his hair in the reflection of the coffee machine, the hears the soft chime of the shop’s bell as the door opens behind him.

He smiles.

Right on time

“Glad you could make it,” he murmurs without turning around, gently smoothing out the wrinkles in his apron as he tucks it away in the cupboard in front of him and puts the two nicest mugs they have under the machine’s drip.

He hears Chris’ low chuckle as he approaches the counter. “I thought you didn’t close until ten? Unless you shooed out all your customer for me?”

“We don’t, but my boss went on vacation today so I closed early.” He turns and smirks at the man resting his head in the palm of one hand, an elbow planted firmly on the counter a few inches away from him.

“Impressive.”

“I try.” Phichit suppresses the wink that desperately wants to follow that statement, instead keeping his smile gentle. From the brief chats he’s had with Chris he knows there’s a complex dance of seduction to be played here and he’s not about to waste all his best moves in the first ten minutes.

“You succeed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the place quite so-“ he lazily gestures around the room with his free hand, eyes still soft and hooded, “atmospheric.”

Phichit doesn’t fight his own chuckle at that, a stab of satisfaction ringing warmly in his gut at the fact that his stage has perfectly been set.

Now for the first move.

“Still want that coffee?” He asks, gesturing towards the table he’d made up properly, the one remaining bouquet blooming brightly in the centre.

“Oh definitely.” Chris strides over and reclines in the nearest seat, crossing his legs. “I’ve been looking forward to trying it all week.”

Phichit’s smile inadvertently widens a little as he fills the mugs and grabs his own hand-made stencils that he’d been saving for such an occasion. As he sprinkles his design he tries to keep his hands steady. Yes, Chris was most definitely his type and there was something about that smile that had old butterflies starting to flap nervously in his stomach.

Looking up, he nearly knocks over his drink at the fond expression he’s sporting behind the round frames of his glasses.

Focus Chulanont.

Finishing with a flourish, he saunters over with as much confidence as he can muster before placing his creation down in front of the other man.

“Love the heart,” Chris murmurs at the design sprinkled on the foam as he reaches over to take one of the pastries Phichit has laid out.

Phichit rolls his eyes and turns the cup slightly. “It’s a peach.”

His eyes flash wish soft amusement. “Even better.”

Phichit sits down opposite and takes a long sip of his own drink, glad step one had gone so swimmingly.

Now for two through ten.

“I’ve missed your daily deliveries. It’s been kind of dull without you swanning in every day with God knows how many flowers.” He takes another slow sip. “Didn’t you get bored of coming here every day?”

Chris laughs softly and shakes his head. “It was my favourite stop. Though I’m almost insulted that it took until now to get my free coffee.” He raises the mug in a silent toast before pressing the rim to his lips. “You have offered more than a few times.”

The wink that follows has Phichit forgetting his carefully planned line of seduction for a minute, the pastry in his mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

“Ah yes, well Yuuri and I had kind of a... month-long mission to complete first.”

Okay, not what he wanted to bring up.

“Mission?”

“Yup.” Okay he just has to roll with this now and hope Chris doesn’t ask exactly what or who they were looking into. “Though thankfully that sorted itself out.”

Chris raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press the matter, Phichit trying to hide his sigh of relief as he turns to look around the shop again. “I see you took down all the flowers.” He gestures to the baron window. “Last time I was here, it was more floral than the place I work.”

“Well most of them.” He puts down his mug and looks at the bouquet between them, the ribbon sparkling softly in the dim light. “I actually kind of miss them, they really brightened the shop up, even when they were all over the front the other day.”

“Yeah,” Chris muses, meeting Phichit’s gaze as he looks up, “That last delivery is probably going to be the biggest of my career.”

“I bet,” he hopes the soft lighting his hiding the pink tinge that’s probably painting his cheeks after falling a little into the deep green of Chris’ eyes. “That- that must have taken hours to set up.”

Chris laughs as he leans in, a familiar sparkle in his expression. “Oh it did, thankfully I didn’t have to do it.”

Phichit’s narrows his eyes a little, briefly snapped out of his partial daze. “You didn’t?”

“No. It was all Victor. Think he started at like 2am,” he murmurs absentmindedly.

“Wow, all that was done by one guy?” He marvels at the impressive feat before a small but burning question pops up in his mind. “But wait, he’s the owner right? Why did he do all the work?”

It’s Chris’ turn to roll his eyes. “After all of his giant bouquets I had to deliver, I wasn’t giving up my eight hours of sleep for that. Even if it did look pretty amazing.”

“Wait- his bouquets? Oh because he made them?” He takes another quick sip of his drink, trying to find a way back to his planned conversational path.

Chris laughs again. “Designed, paid for, obsessed over. Yup.”

Phichit puts his cup down. “Wait. Obsessed over?”

“Yup. He was determined to find the right one.”

Phichit feels a loud realisation slowly unfurling in his mind.

“Chris?”

“Yes?”

“Chris was Victor the one sending these?”

Chris cocks his head, a little confusion seeping into his tone at the question. “Uh, Yeah? Wait Yuuri didn’t tell you?”

Phichit stares down at his cup before dropping his head to his hands, a small annoyed mumble escaping his lips. “Yuuri doesn’t know. Oh god Yuuri has no idea.”

“What? How?”

Phichit stands, all thoughts about his plans for this evening drowning out by the much louder thought of how much of an idiot his roommate was. “I-I have to tell him. He doesn’t know and he’s been feeling so bad about it for weeks now.”

“Wait wait,” Chris stands and puts his hands on Phichit’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “But he gave Victor a pretty hard verbal smack down the other day. Told him pretty clearly to stop sending them.”

“Yeah, because he knew Victor was the owner. He thought he could just stop taking orders from whoever was sending them.” Phichit takes a breath, all the fragments of information he’d gathered over the past month suddenly fitting together in a sharp jigsaw of realisation. “But that person was-“

“Victor yes.” Chris shakes his head as he sets them both down again. “Of course something like this would happen to him. I told that moron to sign them properly.” He lets out a small laugh as he gently wipes a little foam off the edge of his mug. “I mean how could Yuuri not know those flowers were meant for him? Victor will not stop going on about that night a month ago.”

Now it’s Phichit’s turn to be more confused. “When he ruined his shirt?”

“He tends to mostly focus on the pole dancing.”

“Wait- pole dancing?”

“Yes.” Chris sighs and leans furthur across the table, his expression warm. “So how exactly does Yuuri not know Victor basically fell head over heels for him that night? They spent an awful lot of time together from what I hear.”

“He has a talent for being surprisingly graceful even when he’s blackout drunk,” Phichit murmurs wondering how stuff like this always seemed to happen to Yuuri. “He doesn’t remember a thing after throwing his drink on Victor.”

“This all makes a surprising amount of sense now,” Chris mutters as he carefully puts his empty cup back on its saucer.

“I know,” Phichit hums quietly as he takes another sip of his drink, wishing more than ever that it was an Irish coffee.

So much for his seduction plan.

Sighing at the revelation that was now clouding the perfect evening he’d planned, he straightens himself to look the other man dead in the eye, his expression serious. “Okay Chris, I know this was supposed to be a date but right now I think both of our friends are getting hurt, so I need you to tell me exactly what happened that night.”

Chris takes in his sterner expression and smiles, reaching over to gently take one of his hands. “Get me another one of those amazing cappuccinos and I tell you anything you want to know.”

—

Thankfully Yuuri is still awake when Phichit gets home, his face screwed up in concentration as he perfects what’s probably his fifth decorative latte of the evening.

He jerks his face up from his mug when he hears the door slam.

“Hey Phichit,” he greets warmly as he starts to shake cinnamon over his stencil. “Considering you’re back before eleven and I got no warning text I’m assuming it didn’t go well with Chris.”

His oblivious smile almost has Phichit biting his tongue. The entire walk home, he’d been arguing with himself about whether telling him right this second was the right call. Ever since the flowers stopped arriving at work, he had been a lot more relaxed but the constant back and forth in his head had always come to the same conclusion.

With Yuuri’s luck, he’ll find out at the worst possible time.

“No it went great actually, we’re seeing each other tomorrow- look Yuuri I need to tell you something.” He grabs Yuuri by the arm and starts steering him towards the couch. “It’s important.”

He frankly has no idea how Yuuri is going to react and having something soft behind him is probably the best plan right now.

“Phichit are you okay?” He yanks his arm away, the beginnings of worry crinkling around his eyes.

“Yes I’m fine. Look-“ He sighs, setting himself down on the couch as he thinks about the right way to phrase this little nugget of news that’s been swirling round his mind for the past forty minutes. “You should sit down.”

“Okay,” Yuuri murmurs as he sits next to him, his face still confused.

Phichit takes a breath and looks Yuuri dead in the eyes, speaking each word as clearly as he can.

“I know who’s been sending you those flowers.”

☕️ Part twelve ☕️ ☕️ Part fourteen ☕️

🌹Ao3 🌹

[bestpaintervegas]

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[elisionvoipsolutions]

Call Center CRM Integration to Increase Customer Satisfaction

Businesses, regardless of industry vertical, are facing fierce competition these days. The competitors are lurking to take away your customers from you. The only way to retain customers is to provide them the best customer service and make them feel valued. To do that a company needs skilled staff members that know how to keep a customer happy. The company will also need to acquire the best customer care tools. There are many tools that one can use for customer care. However, a CRM solution and call center software are the two most popular solutions. 

There are some top companies that offer call center CRM integration services. The call center CRM integration is a process in which the company integrates both, call center solution and CRM system. This integrated solution is very useful in offering the best customer care services. Moreover, it is also very useful in increasing the satisfaction of the customer. 

Let me share how. 

The CRM system is a perfect tool to store customer data, their preference, billing information, and all other information. The CRM system also automates some actions to make sure everything is streamlined.

The call center solution is a perfect tool to automate the calling process. To discuss the requirements of the next phase or to collect the feedback of the ongoing project or to call customers for any action, the call center software can be used.

The call center CRM integration lets the executives use both of these systems in a streamlined manner. Let’s understand the use case. The executive can run a calling campaign to collect feedback from the customers. Once the call is connected, the CRM popup will be opened in the call center software. After that. the executive discusses with the customer about his experience in a personalized manner by reading the details of the customer. Some advanced call center software solutions also have a feedback form or a survey form inbuilt in them. During the live call, the executive can also ask questions based on the survey form and collect answers from the customer. During the live call, the executive can send a WhatsApp message, SMS, email, or fax to the customer for confirmation or provide additional information to the customer. Once the live call is wrapped up, all information added to the call center software will also be saved in the CRM system. Thus, the technical team or support engineers can review the feedback and fine-tune their work to increase the satisfaction of the customer.

The call center CRM integration can benefit in enhancing the whole customer journey. The company can create a roadmap to make sure the customer is handled well with the best experience. This way the CRM call center integration helps in increasing customer satisfaction.

There are many companies that offer call center CRM integration services. Elision Technolab LLP is one of the leading companies that offer the best call center CRM integration services. The company can integrate any call center software and CRM system. To know more about their service, please visit https://www.elisiontec.com/crm-callcenter-integration/