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firstbeachgoblin · 3 years ago

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Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

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Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

#embry call imagine #embry call x reader #twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #twilight saga #wolf pack #embry call #jared cameron #jacob black #sam uley #paul lahote #quil ateara #seth clearwater #leah clearwater

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kenkaodoll · 3 years ago

Text

Kamiya Dojo Monogatari Tales 38 (Jump SQ 21/02)

About Kamiya Dojo Monogatari: Tales of Kamiya dojo is written by Kaoru Kurosaki and published along with “Rurouni Kenshin Hokkaido” arc in JUMPSQ. The tale involved Rurouni Kenshin character in daily life that takes time between Kenshin and Kaoru marriage until the epilogue chapter in original manga before Hokkaido Arc. Until this month (Feb 2022) there’re total 51 chapters in Tales of Kamiya dojo. This is an unofficial translation.

Previous story: https://kenkaodoll.tumblr.com/post/675801725829103616/kamiya-dojo-monogatari-tales-37-jump-sq-2101

“Uwaaa… smell so good”

“My business instincts tell me that this will be a big seller”

“Yes… very good…”

Misao, Tae, and Tsubame, all swooned and squinted their eyes when Megumi dabbed the lotion onto their cheeks.

“ But you know... Just because something is good doesn't mean it's going to be a big seller, it was what the Takiya shopkeeper said.”

“Well, that's the reality”

Tae nodded in approval

“Also in my shop, when we created a new menu it’s not immediately become popular.”

“The other day we had a discussion about a new menu, which I thought was very good. It wasn't very popular, wasn’t it?”

“That was a shame, right?”

Tae and Tsubame looked unsatisfied.

“What kind of menu?”

Misao asked in curiosity.

“Donburi, a bowl of hot rice is served with a splash of gyu-nabe sauce. Then top with egg and red ginger.”

At that time, it did not yet have a name, but it is in other words, known as “gyudon” (beef bowl).

“I thought it would be easier and tastier if I could bring it to you fresh from the kitchen, so you don't have to spend time boiling a beef pot.”

“It's so easy to eat, you don't even feel like you're eating a meal.”

“The customers who tried it went back to the beef hot pot, and it didn't become a big seller, so we stopped serving it.”

Tae and Tsubame both dropped their shoulders in disappointment when they remembered what had happened.

“Heee, it sounds delicious and fulfilling, I think it’s a good menu to sell”

“The taste is delicious”

“But that's not enough to make a successful product.”

“Business is so difficult ”

Just when Misao was about to make her point…

“The time... Perhaps it was too early.”

Kaoru suddenly murmured.

“Beef hot pot is not a dish that you can enjoy easily, but it is something that you can enjoy on special occasions, in a relaxed atmosphere. But there may come a future when beef hot pot is no longer a special dish and people want to eat it as a bowl of rice.”

Then Misao replied happily to Kaoru who suddenly started talking about the future.

“The times! Kaoru-san, sometimes you say things in such a big way”

Kaoru's eyes fluttered at Misao's words.

“What? Am I saying this about any other things”

“You see, the way of the sword will continue into the future, kenjutsu will gradually change form from teaching the skill ‘jutsu’ with sword to preaching the way of sword… something like that”

“That's what I’m really thinking about”

“I don't mind the way you say things like predicting the future. I like it!”

Misao smiled.

“You think so? Thank you. Maybe it's because after I read Jules Verne’s book, I become more imaginative. It's an interesting book, so you should read it. Yahiko is reading it now and I'll lend it to you next time.”

As a side note, the current year is Meiji 13 (1879). It was more than 20 years later, in Meiji 32 (1899), that Yoshinoya, a beef bowl restaurant, was founded.

“It's a pity that our menu didn't sell well, but when you think about the fact that the times haven't caught up with our ideas, it makes you feel better.”

“Yes, it does. It kind of cheers me up.”

Both Tae and Tsubame seemed pleased with the idea.

“It's a difficult business. I don't know anything about it, so I really don't know how to sell lotion. Do you have any good ideas?”

“That's right. First of all, advertising is the most important thing. I'd like to advertise it at Akabeko, but I'm not sure if people who come to eat beef hot pot would be interested in the lotion. I don't know if it's effective or not, but it's better than nothing!”

“Ummm…”

Tsubame nervously began to talk.

“ If you can give us a few samples, we could give them to the waitress in Akabeko and ask them to tell their friends what their opinion about the lotion”

“That sounds good”

“It's a good idea, because the gender and age range of the customers we want to sell our cosmetics are matching with Akabeko waitresses. If they can build up a good reputation, that's the best way to advertise.”

As they were discussing this, Kenshin came in bringing the tea.

“So lively, that it is”

“Himura! Anyway Himura also has pretty skin, right?”

“Oro”

“You see, the master Hiko Seijuro looks so young that it’s hard to believe he’s over 40 years old, and I've said it before, but I think Hiten Mitsurugiryu hides the secret of youth. I want to know what kind of beauty techniques they have! And I want to learn!”

Misao leaned closer to Keshin.

“Misao-dono, Hiten Misturugiryu is a kenjutsu school, that is it. We are not teaching any beauty techniques.”

Kenshin gave a bitter smile.

“Well, but then why do the master and student have such beautiful skin?”

“Umm…”

“So… what is it?”

“If I may say so myself…”

In response to Misao's enthusiasm, Kenshin tried to put his own way to answer.

“A lot of sleep, a lot of eating, a lot of exercises, that is it”

“Hee… It’s a normal thing”

'It is best to live a normal, regular and unhurried life, that it is. Besides, it is good to be physically active. Bedridden patients also tend to have bad skin.”

“That's right! If we say that Kenjutsu is good for beauty, people will come to Kamiya Dojo....”

Kaoru, who had been listening to the exchange between Kenshin and Misao, replied in a startled tone.

“No, but that’s…”

“Isn't that exactly what you call 'ahead of its time'?”

They were both smiling at the same time.

Again, it was the 13th year of Meiji. The public transport network had not yet developed. There were no cars, and most people had to get around on foot. It was impossible for people to get a lack of exercise.

“Well, that's unfortunate. Anyway, I hope Takiya's lotion sells well.”

“You should use it properly and let me know how it feels or if you notice anything.”

“Yes, of course. So that means you'll stay in Tokyo until the stock is sold, right."

Kaoru was smiling.

“Yes. I'm sorry, but I'm going to be here for a while longer. Or am I bothering?”

“It’s not like that. I love it when things are lively! It's just... You're running a clinic in Aizu, aren't you? I'm worried that the people in your hometown would be troubled without you.”

“My hometown’s people are troubled… Hmmm…”

Megumi looked at her closely in the eye.

“Well, there's no point in hiding anything, so I'll just tell you that my clinic isn't that thriving.”

“What?”

Kaoru froze, unable to find the right words to respond to the sudden confession.

“Oh dear. But it's not like we're in business, and it's nice to know that there are no sick or injured people, isn't it?”

Tae made a good point.

“Well, you know. It's not like there are no sick or injured people.”

Megumi said in a troubled tone.

“Then, what's the matter?”

Misao asked curiously.

“Usually, when you get sick or injured, you use the medicines you have at home first.”

“Oh... That's true.”

“People also rarely show up in the clinic. Unless they're very ill they don’t think to see the doctor”, Megumi replied.

Nowadays, when you get sick you go to the doctor. The doctor would write you a prescription and you go to the chemist to get your medicine. However, in those days, the clinic system was still new and not widely used.

Instead, the practice of leaving medicines in the house was much more widespread, as in the case of "Toyama no Yakuyobi" (medicine peddlers of Toyama). This is a business practice that has existed since the early Edo period, where medicines are deposited in advance and the medicine seller goes from house to house every six months. You only have to pay for the medicines you keep on deposit when you use them. It was the type of business at that time.

It is very difficult to break into a business model that has been popular among the general public for so long. Like the words that Kaoru had said earlier, it seemed that running a clinic in Aizu was slightly “ahead of its time”.

“So, well... I went back to Aizu because I thought a doctor was needed then, but actually I didn't get so busy there.”

Megumi tried not to show her emotions, but the edge of her words conveyed a sense of frustration that she couldn't do what she wanted.

“But I can come and take care of the baby and the mother like this, so it's not all bad.”

Megumi said as laughing at herself.

“We don't have any students either. I guess it's hard for everyone.”

“Oh, well”

“And for me, I’d like to have Megumi-san welcomed to stay here”

“But I won't be able to take care of you as well as before if I help Takiya-san sell lotion”

Kenshin replied to those words.

“It is reassuring to have you here, that it is. I am glad that you will be staying with us for a while, that I am.”

Just as the atmosphere became warm, Misao intervened.

“It's not fair for Megumi-san to stay here so long! Me too! I wish I could stay at the Kamiya Dojo for a while! The other day, I couldn't do any sightseeing at all and had to leave right away. I want to enjoy Tokyo this time around.”

Kaoru answered immediately.

“But I suppose you have permission from the oldman Okina, don't you?”

“That’s right! He also wanted to see the baby’s face”

"Then we have nothing to say to you, that I do.”

Kenshin and Kaoru smilingly agreed.

“Yay, Tsubame-chan, Tae-san let's go somewhere for fun when the Akabeko store is closed. And of course, we'll take care of Kenji's omamori (good luck charm)!”

Misao hopped with joy

…..continue in chapter 39…..

https://kenkaodoll.tumblr.com/post/676320182871932928/kamiya-dojo-monogatari-tales-39-jump-sq-2103

TLnote(1): translating Japanese is so hard because the sentence structure is very different compared with the English also the style of writing is different, plus there’s a lot of figurative, poetic language and things that sounds not making sense if it’s directly translated into english. So forgive me if this is very weird to read, and please tell me if you want give corrections.

TLnote(2) I will provide the original Japanese text for correction if any of you who read have better knowledge of Japanese language. Just dm and I’ll send the file.

TLnote(3) Dtninja had translated some earlier chapters in his website. You can go and check on there, for now I only translate the chapters that I want to read.

#Kamiya Dojo Monogatari #himura family #rurouni kenshin #ruroken #unofficial translation #Kaoru Kurosaki #Kurosaki Kaoru #Tales of Kamiya Dojo

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undyingskies · 4 years ago

Text

Just Fine

Request: yes; “hii, could you maybe write an owen imagine where fans take pictures of his gf kissing a guy on the street so there is rumors and of course owen's pissed, but she was actually filming a scene so everything was fake please”

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy, I have a decent amount of requests I am working through! As well as a two part fic for Owen, they are going to take some time so if you requested please be patient with me! I promise I am working on them!

Warning: None

——————————

Your show, Charmed, season 3 was renewed at the same time as season 2 of Julie and The Phantoms. Which means you and your boyfriend Owen were both incredibly busy filming in two different time zones. You guys tried your best to talk when you were free and keep each other updated with what was going on in your shows, but it got more difficult as time went on.

You loved your boyfriend and you missed him but between your two schedules you felt like you were putting more effort in talking to him than he was you. You guys actually haven’t talked in a few days and you were the last one to text and call him.

You get he was busy, you were too, but it still felt like he wasn’t putting even a little effort into trying to talk to you.

So here you are today, reading lines sitting in your makeup chair getting ready for today’s scenes. This season they introduced a new character to play your love interest and today was the big scene between the two of you.

You were nervous, really nervous. Charmed was your first ever show that you booked and so far you’ve had no love interest so you didn’t have scenes like the one today. You were a professional and you knew you could do it but still you were nervous. It would be nice to tell your boyfriend about it, Owen is usually really good at calming your nerves but he just seems to be ignoring you.

“Y/N it’s your time to shine, let’s go!” You hear Tami your director yell.

You sigh at her words, stand up and shake your hands at your side; before you walk onto the street for your scene.

You think to yourself, you’ve got this, it’s only one scene. You’ve done plenty of other scenes in the past that have made you nervous before so it’s okay. It’s just why did this one feel different?

“Alright, you guys ready?” You hear Tami yell again.

Both you and Jake, your love interest, nod yes and get in your places.

“Okay, awesome. We’re gonna take it from the spot where you guys are talking about how you feel and you’re walking to Lily’s apartment” Tami tells the two of you.

She walks back to the camera and sits in her chair. Everyone on set quiets down as the lights flash, and you see her hands counting down from three to one.

Then one hits, that’s your cue.

“You know Steven, you really didn’t have to walk me back to my apartment.” You tell him and turn to smile at him, placing a hand on his arm.

“I know Lily, you can totally handle yourself but it was an excuse to spend more time with you.” He tells you.

You respond with a smile. The two of your characters walking through the street making small talk with one another.

Until the two of you reach the destination of where your two characters were going. This is when it’s gonna happen, just take a deep breath and it’ll be okay.

You stop and turn to look at Jake, who’s character is Steven. You grab one of his hands and say,

“Well thanks again Steven, I appreciate it. I liked having the extra time with you too.”

He smiles back at you and takes a step towards you. He places a hand on your cheek and you lean into it slightly.

“Me too.” He whispers out. You both just look at each other smiling and that’s when he leans in. The two of yours lips meeting for a kiss.

You two stay standing with your lips interlocked for a few more seconds until you hear Tami yell, “Cut.” At her words the two of you step apart.

“That was great the two of you really, perfect! Could have not gone better!” She tells the both of you. You send her a small smile.

You think to yourself that really wasn’t that bad, your nerves no longer getting the best of you. You grab your things and make your way to your trailer; it was a long morning and a nap wouldn’t hurt.

Upon making it to your trailer, you fling yourself onto the bed you have in there. Almost immediately falling asleep, face first in your pillows, letting slumber take over you.

You have no idea how long you had been asleep for but the constant buzzing of your phone on your bed besides you wakes you up.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you reach over to grab your phone. You squint at the sudden bright light from your phone reading the few messages you have. One catches your attention first. It’s from Owen, it reads.

“You should really check twitter. Thanks.”

You think to yourself that’s a lot of periods and does not seem good. You can’t help but panic a little that’s not a normal text from Owen, especially after not talking for a few days.

You close the message app and quickly open the twitter app. It doesn’t take long in your scrolling for you to stumble upon what seems to have upset your boyfriend.

It was pictures of you and Jake kissing in front of the building. The photos don’t show the cast or crew filming the scene, it really is just the two of you. Your heart picks up at the sight of the photo, it doesn’t look good. How did someone get this photo and how did it blow up so fast? You think to yourself, right now that doesn’t matter though. Owen is what matters.

You quickly call Owen wanting to explain to him the reality behind it. Your phone rings twice then it gets sent to voicemail. You scrunch your eyebrows and call him again, voicemail again. You call again and again, and then finally you get an answer.

“What do you want Y/N?” You hear Owen snap at you.

“I wanted to call you to explain what that photo was as I can only assume that’s why you’re so upset.” You tell him, trying to stay as calm as possible.

“Oh what you could only assume is what I’m upset by?? I actually loved seeing photos of MY girlfriend kissing another guy. It was actually really great getting to see that and hear about it from Charlie.” Owen snaps again.

“You don’t have to be so rude about it Owen, it’s not what it looks like. That’s Jake, not some random guy! It was for-“ He cuts you off.

“Oh great to know it wasn’t some random guy. You know what I really don’t feel like talking to you right now. I’ve got to go.” He says quickly trying to get you off the phone fast.

“You better stop that Joyner and listen to me for one second.” The tone of your voice making him stop his movements to end the call. He doesn’t say anything so you take that as your cue.

“First of all that’s Jake, my co-star, and that was a scene for our show. He is playing my character’s love interest actually.” Your frustration building as you take to him. “And you would know that if you took any time to actually talk to me instead of ignoring me for days on end. You don’t put any effort into this like I do, I know what’s going on in your scenes. I bet you could not tell me one thing that’s going on in mine!”

Your met with silence.

“Ya that’s what I thought Owen, so you know what goodbye, have fun learning about my show through the internet.” You tell him before you hang up, not letting him get another word in.

Tears slip from your eyes as you gather your things to go home. You checked the time and it was 6 PM. Your nap was a lot longer than you thought but you could go home now, they told you if they didn’t get you by 5, they wouldn’t need you for the rest of the day.

Tears continue to cloud your vision as you drive through the streets of LA to your apartment. You have music playing quietly during your drive hoping it would help calm you down but the tears still fall.

You feel bad, guilty even. If you were in Owen’s shoes and saw photos like that on the internet with no context you would be just as mad and hurt by it. You shouldn’t have reacted that way, you should have stayed calm but he didn’t give you the time to explain. Your hurt from not talking to him for days and feeling like he was ignoring you just built up and took over.

Once you reach your apartment you quickly shuffle into the building and into your unit. You didn’t want to be far from your bed much longer, the comfort of it calling you. You quickly strip from your clothes and into you pajamas, which was just underwear and one of Owen’s shirts.

You crawl into bed and check your phone one last time, nothing. No notifications, absolutely nothing. You lock it and put it on its charger. You settle into your pillows and pull the sheets over you, covering half of your face, letting sleep take over you and a few more tears slipping from your eyes.

You don’t know how long you were asleep for but a loud banging woke up you, déjà vu. The pounds don’t stop as you turn over and check the time on your phone. It read 6:02 AM. A lot earlier than you would have liked to be woken up.

You stretch and pull your shirt down to cover your thighs. You let your feet lead you to the door where the banging continued. You open the door not even thinking twice, getting ready to yell at whoever decided it was a good time to wake you up this early.

You stop dead in your tracks, the words lost in your throat, your mouth just hanging open slightly. Your face to face with Owen.

He doesn’t say a word, he just pushes past you to get into your apartment. Your left standing at your door alone, still shocked and confused.

“You know it’s probably a good idea to close the door Y/N, especially with the whole no pants thing going on.” Owen says facing you.

You blush slightly at his words, closing the door and tugging the shirt down hoping it would cover more of your skin. It’s not like it’s nothing he’s seen before but his gaze on you right now, left you feeling vulnerable.

“What are you doing here O?” You ask him, walking into the living room and going to sit on your couch. Owen follows your lead.

It’s so quiet, and the atmosphere around the two of you is awkward. It was never like this between you and Owen, neither of you liked it very much.

Owen sits next to you, leaving space between the two of you so he could turn to face you, putting one of his legs on the couch.

“Soooo...” You trail off hoping to start some type of conversation, anything was better than the silence.

“I didn’t like the way we left off on that conversation, both of us obviously hurt and it didn’t feel like something that should have been fixed over the phone.” He tells you, one of his hands grabbing onto yours. “I jumped on the first plane after that phone call, I needed to see you.”

“I-okay...” You say, taking your hand from his to rub your eyes and yawning. The mix of exhaustion and confusion not helping you put together words. You place your hand on his again.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I should have given you a chance to explain or even say something before I got so frustrated. I should have let you talk before trying to hang up on you immediately. I just, it was really hard seeing those photos and knowing nothing.” He tells you, leaning forward a little more. He’s able to catch your gaze.

“No I know, I’m sorry too O. I know I overreacted a bit just yelling and hanging up on you. It was just you called and yelled without giving me a chance to really speak, and that was the first time we’ve spoken in days. I let my own frustration get to me.” You tell him.

“If it was the other way around, I would reacted similarly too. I don’t even want to think how I would feel seeing a photo of you kissing a girl with no context.”

Owen lets go of your hand to push some hair out of your face. He lets his hand cup your cheek after.

“I think we both were upset and instead of talking it out we just took it out on each other instead.” You nod your head agreeing with him.

“You know I’ve missed you love, it’s not easy being so far away.”

“I know Owen, that’s why I was so upset. I feel like whenever I have the chance I’m facetiming you or texting you just to give us some time to be together in some way, but it never felt reciprocated. I know you’re busy, you know out of anyone, I understand that. But baby, I stopped trying and we didn’t talk for 4 days before yesterday.” You’re able to get all of that out without tears falling and you feel proud of yourself.

Owen’s looking at you as you tell him those things. He sees you gulping a little harder and the glaze over your eyes, he knows you’re trying not to cry. He still has his hand cupping your cheek.

“I know Y/N, I want you to know how sorry I am about that. We’re both busy but it’s not okay that I but you on the back burner just because I know you understand. It just work has gotten extra busy it feels like lately and then I’m exhausted, I know that’s not a good excuse but it was never my intention to make you feel not important or like I don’t care about what you have going on.” The tears finally slip from your eyes. His fingers brushing them away as they fall.

He pulls you closer and into his chest to hold you. It breaks his heart seeing you like this and knowing it was because of him.

“I get it O; I miss you so much and sometimes it gets super hard. All I wanted to do was tell you about what was happening in my scenes this week, especially because I was so nervous to do it.”

“I miss you too and completely understand that. You know how much I love to hear about what you’ve got going on in your scenes, especially this week’s scene I would have liked to know that one.” He tells you with a small laugh as his hands rub your back. You lean back a little and leave a small slap on his chest, a small chuckle leaving you as well.

“Trust me I would have liked you knowing what was going on too. I would have liked that a lot more than you finding out over the internet.” You tell him.

“It did get you here though, so maybe it wasn’t so bad.” You offer him with a laugh, him reciprocating.

“Oh whatever Y/L/N.” He says before leaning in to give you a kiss. Your lips meeting his, you melt into the kiss. Oh how you’ve missed your boyfriend and the feeling of his lips on yours.

You smile as the two of you break apart.

“We good now?” He asks you.

“Yes, we’re good now.” You tell him with a smile.

“Also I promise no more ignoring and I will put more effort in. I wanna know what you’ve got going on, that way I can pretend I’m here with you and the distance doesn’t seem so bad.”

You lean into his chest at his words, his arms wrapping around you and squeezes your hips.

“As long as we’re both in this together O, it’ll all be just fine.”

His lips meet yours for another sweet kiss. You lay happily in each other’s arms for the next few hours until you had to go to set. You leave for set Owen in tow, hand in yours, as you update him on everything you’ve got going on and answering all his questions. Both of you happier than ever.

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner imagine #owenjoynerimagines #owen joyner fic #owen joyner fluff #owen joyner fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #jatp #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #julieandthephantomsimagine

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angelicmichael · 3 years ago

Text

living after midnight

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke

Summary: Brooke and Montana get a bit intoxicated and get a bit carried away while going night swimming. Based off this post I made a week ago hehe

Words: 3.1k+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and also vague mentions of weed, stripping (no nudity tho LOL), lotssss of sexual tension, lots of fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, weird yearning angst for like .02 seconds lmao

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if this is random but I got random inspo for brotana so.. here this is lmao. Believe it or not I did try to make this under 1k words but.. I got carried away so I’m sorry that’s it’s long 😭. But the fic happens sometime after Brooke and Montana meet but before any camp redwood fuckery happens lmao. Anyway I hope y’all like this!! This is also probably the fastest I’ve ever written a fic so I hope it’s atleast decent haha. Anyway enjoy <3

A gentle breeze danced against Brookes exposed skin. The midnight air cold on its own regard but it seemed to blend perfectly with the extensive heat that radiated from the bonfire she sat in front of.

The night was entirely pitch black. The moon was vacant from the sky, leaving the only source of light to come from the giant fire that sat at Brookes shoes.

It was admittedly a bit unsettling being in almost the total darkness, especially with how many girls had recently gone missing in L.A as of late but the beer in her system had mostly put those thoughts to rest. Plus, being with three men and Montana was also reassuring. Even if she didn’t exactly know Xavier, Chet or Ray that well but.. she knew Montana.

It was nearly impossible to forget about how they met.. in the girls locker room in the showers and well; it’s not as if things were any less weird now. Showers or not.

It’s not as if Brooke and Montana were best friends or super close, because that definitely wasnt the case; but they weren’t acquaintances either by any means. The weird tension and ‘playfulness’ that lied between them ruled out being friends.. or that’s Brooke liked to think anyway when she had one too many things to drink. Like now.

Her legs twitched a bit restlessly; content at the ambience that surrounded her but not content with her current state of being. Like how she knew she should be enjoying herself, drunk, not caring about particularly anything at all but instead all she could do was fucking care. Her thoughts were purely infiltrated with Montana and it was embarrassing, to say the least but now that she was intoxicated there was really no harm in fighting it. No matter how annoying and taunting those thoughts truly were.

After all, Why should she not think about how nice it would be to feel Montana’s hands (which she knew had to be soft and delicate) on her waist and down her back? Why should she not think about Montana’s soft lips moving against her own, a few strands of her bleached hair (which definitely had lost it softness due to excessive over bleaching) brushing up against her face accidentally?

That was a rhetorical question; because she knew exactly why she avoided those type of thoughts on a normal day to day basis. Not because it would make things awkward between them but because it was beyond fucking painful to imagine scenarios that would never happen.. Never.

The smell of the fire and the sounds of the wood crackling, which was far too dry and poorly stacked (neither Xavier, Chet or Ray could build a proper fire to save their life), helped bring Brooke out of her thoughts and bit more into reality. So did the gentle sway of the tree branches which she could see in her peripheral vision, since they were right on the cusp of a forest that cut off to a beach. Ocean waves which slowly dragged across the sand were also soothing to listen too, albeit distant over the sound of Brookes friends screaming and laughing and being heavily intoxicated over what was more than just alcohol and weed.

Brooke reached down and swiftly grabbed the beer can which was previously lodged upright in the sand. Lifting the can up to her lips and cringing and unconsciously tensing up as she swallowed until the can was nearly weightless - wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just to see-

“Montana?!” Brooke nearly yelled. Both alcohol and temporary shock making her speak way louder than what was realistically needed.

Montana, who was previously standing several feet away with the boys was suddenly seated right next to Brooke on the log with no warning. Probably having moved over while Brooke was poorly chugging the alcohol she hated.. but she couldn’t help but to notice that their thighs (as well as basically their entire sides) were touching as she tried to wipe the alcohol that had embarrassingly dripped down her front in a frenzy.

Chet and Xavier looked back at them from a few feet away as they smoked what Brooke knew had to be a joint. Briefly laughing and giving the pair of women an amused glance before turning around and immersing themselves in whatever conversation they were previously having.

Brooke sheepishly met Montana’s gaze, feeling her cheeks grow nearly unbearably hot at the awareness that she was now being watched.. studied almost.

“Sorry,” Brooke added with a giggle.

Montana responded with a slight upturn of her lips; amused with Brookes actions not because she found it necessarily funny or pitiful, but for the sole reason that.. it was cute and endearing that Brooke couldn’t really hold her alcohol for shit.

It made her unique and different from everyone else Montana acquainted herself with. People that Montana had to basically learn to keep up with.. but Brooke on the other hand was different.. She was a breath of fresh air, and that’s why Montana assumed she was so attracted to her (besides her looks, of course).

Montana tried her best to ignore and not be bothered by the fact that Brooke was wasting perfectly good alcohol by wiping it off herself (alcohol that Montana wouldn’t necessarily mind licking off Brookes lips.. or her neck, or really anywhere else off of her). Instead focusing on how suffocated she felt here.

It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. After all; she loved Chet, Xavier and Ray dearly but.. they were also undoubtedly preventing anything from happening between her and Brooke.. and that needed to change.

Montana huffed. Her deep brown eyes quickly flickering at the flame and then Brooke before speaking.

“Im bored,” she announced. Suddenly standing up and not letting her eyes break the gaze she suddenly held with Brooke.

Brooke responded with a simple hum. Her jaw quickly dropping once she noticed that Montana’s bright red nails quickly darted down under her own shirt. Hooking the material under her fingertips before quickly raising the shirt up and over her head. Throwing it back somewhere behind the log Brooke still sat on.. somewhere where Brooke was almost certain Montana wouldn’t be able to locate later.. which was probably done on purpose.

Brookes jaw still stayed ajar when she saw Montana’s hands automatically fly down to the small jean shorts she was wearing. She could do nothing but watch as she saw the button unhook- wait.. what exactly was happening?

“Montana, what are you doing?” Brooke asked with a laugh.

Brooke tried her best to fight the urge to look at her friend who was now well.. in her bra and underwear, out of what she was trying to convince herself was respect, but it wasn’t working. She knew for a fact her cheeks had to burnt bright fucking red; she tried to laugh off the feeling but Montana still stared.. her smile slowly growing wider until sudden laughter momentarily broke the tension again.

Brooke and Montana both looked behind them just to find the boys laughing and whooping as well at Montana’s sudden lack of clothes.

Brooke smiled back at them but it only lasted a second before she found herself overtaken with a emotion she never really felt around Montana before.. was it jealousy?

Just the sight of them staring at Montana (who obviously didn’t give a fuck, or was thriving off the attention more than anything) was enough to make Brooke stand up.

“Go swimming with me?” Brooke suddenly proposed. More than certain that her sudden impulsivity was coming from the alcohol more than anything.. it had to be, right?

Brooke looked Montana in the eyes again as she watched the other woman’s expression suddenly change at her words; looking utterly shocked and.. maybe a bit thrilled.

“You want to go swimming?” Montana nearly sneered, her tone reeked off utter disbelief, “and what are you gonna wear?”

Brooke laughed at what the other woman was implying. Her dark brown eyes slipped down to admire the rest of Montana’s body that she dared not to look at previously. Only looking for a second at the matching cherry red set that Montana wore. A bra which was most definitely too tight and cut a bit small, along with a thong with sat a bit high on her hips which only accentuated her figure even further.

She didn’t have time to think; her eyes darting back up to meet Montana’s which she knew were watching her.

“I’m not going naked-“

“You don’t have too. It’s not like their gonna see us anyway once we get away from the fire. Here.”

They both spoke in hushed whispers. Weirdly paranoid that maybe the boys would overhear and wanna join which- was something they both clearly didn’t want, although unspoken.

The distance between them was minimal enough due to alcohol (and other substances in Montana’s case) running high in their systems. Making personal space something that was now nonexistent.

Montana extended her hand out to Brooke to take. She quickly grabbed her hand, hoping desperately it wasn’t sweaty from how close they were to the fire and also.. just from the situation she was bound to find herself in. But due to Montana’s reaction (or lack thereof) she knew she had nothing to worry about.. sweaty palms or not, she knew Montana wouldn’t judge her. No matter how insane the circumstance; Brooke always felt safe around Montana. That’s why she supposed she was currently following her into the pitch black - her vision getting more and more sparse as they walked away from the fire and into some nearby trees that framed the beach..

“Are you sure they can’t see me?” Brooke asked, trying her best to look through the trees and see if any of her friends happened to be looking but - she couldn’t really make out anything besides the subtle outline of her surroundings which included Montana.

“They can’t see you. Relax,” Montana said with a giggle. “Now do I need to help you undress? Your taking forever and I’m hot- and it’s not like I haven’t seen you wearing less-“

Brooke tried her best to look offended and shocked by her reference to how they met. She knew that normally with nothing in her system she would’ve easily sidestepped Montana’s ruthless flirting but.. something felt different about tonight. After all; why should she keep trying so hard to resist something they both felt? And it wasn’t like anyone could see them anyway..

Brooke quickly turned her head to where she knew Montana was and stepped closer until they were barely a foot apart. Her feet nearly stumbled on Montana’s from the proximity; biting her lip to prevent herself from stupidly giggling once she felt hot breath on her cheek.

She grabbed Montana’s hands which first held hers back limply but briefly held hers tighter before Brooke directed her hands on her shirt.

“Take it off,” Brooke uttered. Her voice barely audible but not quite loud enough to be discerned as a whisper.

Montana didn’t hesitate as she quickly took Brookes shirt off, barely feeling the soft fabric against her fingertips before she quickly threw it behind them into the forest. Montana didn’t wait for Brooke to say anything before her fingers were quickly undoing the button and the zipper of her jean shorts which were only thrown somewhere in the forest as well (hopefully near her shirt.. Brooke could only hope).

Brooke tried her best to not look bothered by her sudden lack of clothes but she also knew that was purely idiotic since they were in the pitch black.

Nevertheless she looked down at herself, trying to discern whether her figure was actually visible or not but Montana grabbed her hand again. Making her gaze snap upward as she led her out. She knew they were going out to the water now; the sand under her feet and the fire now visible from a distance as they continued to go out. The sand becoming more grainy and nearly painful to step on as they got closer to the water.

Brooke quickly looked over her shoulder before she took the first step in - still holding onto Montana’s hand. She quickly glanced to see if any of the men they had came with were watching but surely enough they were still talking and laughing as if they didn’t even notice they had gone missing.. and they probably hadn’t given how fucked up they were.

Perfect.

She continued to hold onto Montana’s hand as she went further and further into the water; not phased by the sudden coolness she felt as the water wrapped around her legs.. submerging her further and further until they both finally stopped. The water lapping around Brookes waist, and well, nearly Montana’s chest since she was a few inches shorter than Brooke.

The water seemed to be a perfect temperature despite them being at the ocean; and the rocks had since disappeared under their feet and changed back into soft sand which also made the current situation a bit more enjoyable.

Brooke tilted her head back a bit, worried momentarily that her hair might get wet but it was worth it. It was absolutely breathtaking.

The night sky which previously looked completely black and void of any light whatsoever was now painted with what looked to be a million stars.

“Do you see this?” Brooke asked.

“What, the stars?” Montana answered, her voice holding a bit of amusement to it and almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah,” Brooke affirmed with a nod. Still keeping her gaze fixated to the night sky.

“What about them?” Montana asked.

The water rippled a bit as Montana started to a take a few steps closer towards Brooke, dissatisfied at the distance between them.

“Nothing. I just- it’s beautiful. I never do things like this,” Brooke responded, tilting her head down to make eye contact with Montana as she finished her sentence.

Montana smirked.

“Never?” She asked with a laugh. “C'mon. I’m not wet enough, let’s go deeper.”

Before Brooke could protest, Montana grabbed both of her hands and pulled her deeper in the water.

“But I didn’t bring a towel!”

“Your not gonna need one. We can warm up by the fire, remember?”

They continued to keep wading until the water almost spilled over Montana’s shoulders. The water barely touching Brookes collarbones but getting some of her hair wet regardless.

She hesitantly let go of the other woman’s hand in the water, intent on using her hand to help her gain balance since a few rocks were still on the ocean ground but - the exact opposite happened.

Brooke didn’t even have time to gasp or scream before her left foot quickly slid on a random rock that just.. of course.. had to fucking be there. Her hands quickly landed on Montana’s shoulders; the rest of her body accidentally falling into the other woman’s but she only felt Montana’s hands suddenly grab gently at her back. Holding her in place against her body.

Brookes eyes instinctively closed shut but when she slowly opened them and reluctantly lifted her head higher up (silently cursing herself for accidentally getting her hair almost entirely wet now) she noticed.. how close they were to each other.

Her nose was only centimeters away from Montana's shoulder.. which meant-

“Are you okay?” Montana asked softly, speaking unintentionally right next to her ear which made a shiver run up Brookes spine.

“Mhm,” Brooke responded.

She rose her head up further - her vision fully black now due to closing her eyes so tightly and being disoriented from slipping, but she knew from hearing Montana’s voice that she had to be close. Very close.

Moving her head a bit to the left.. almost microscopically, not wanting whatever ‘this’ was to necessarily be clumsy but she knew she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Montana continued to whisper.

Brooke couldn’t help but to smile and let out a giggle that made her sound far more drunk than she actually was. She knew exactly where Montana’s lips were now due to her speaking. Thank god.

“You’ll see.”

Brooke leaned in slowly. Briefly bumping noses before catching Montana’s lips with her own. The feeling so heavenly and overdue - not enough but simultaneously far too much to take in all at once.

The taste of dull, gut wrenching beer started to flood her mouth. It was all that Montana basically tasted like.. that and a bit like smoke but Brooke didn’t mind. If anything it made the feelings of infatuation temporarily stronger. Brookes nails started to pierce the other woman’s back; wanting nothing more than to just have.. more. More of Montana; her taste, her hands, her touch.. the feeling was both pathetic but impossible to fight any longer.

The mere thought that this was something she was previously holding herself back from having was almost laughable but- that would be something to think about for another time.

Montana’s lips softly broke from hers.

“Eager.. aren’t you?” She teased.

Brookes eyes still refused to adjust but she knew Montana had to be grinning.

“Sorry.. I just-“

“Don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Montana said lowly.

Montana suddenly leaned in with no warning. Her hands softly grabbed Brookes shoulders; leaning in to pull her bottom lip with her teeth.

After she let go, the feeling to kiss her again was strong but.. she thought of something better. The thrill of the chase was something Brooke always enjoyed, after all.

Brooke took a few steps back suddenly before quickly heading for the shore. Not really going that fast at all due to the resistance of the water pushing up against her legs but she laughed regardless.

She could hear Montana laughing and calling her a jerk in the distance but it was all just noise at this point. Her voice, the water rushing, the fire and their friends (which grew gradually louder as she approached) all started to sound the same.

Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

Even though Brooke definitely felt tipsy, she still felt nervous the closer she got from being fully submerged out of the water. Maybe it was due to the fact she wasn’t certain what was going to happen at the fire, or if their friends had even heard anything but she knew atleast now she would have Montana. Exactly how she had Montana was something to be determined later, but as she finally stepped out and away from the nearly black ocean waves and ran up to the fire to go wait for Montana - she was comforted by the thought that things would now never be the same and forever would be different between the two of them.

Which had to be a good thing; right?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @waitinvain @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist hehe

#brooke x montana #brooke thompson x montana duke #brotana #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #my fic #will post to ao3 soon 😌#did I procrastinate my Andy fic to write this?? maybe lmao #I’m almost done w my Andy fic tho I swear 😭#i know I never talk about brotana so this is probably random asf but I just wanted to write something wlw 😌

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xjoonchildx · 5 years ago

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter four: los angeles

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 2.2K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: i’m not a huge blog and don’t have a lot of readers -- but i’m so, so, so grateful to every single one of you who’s reached out to me on AP2. hearing what you think about this story makes my day every time. from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. hope you enjoy this chapter. the story wraps up in the next one!

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

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

“You see, as messes go -- there are levels.”

Seokjin takes a big sip of his draft beer then sets it down to free his hands.

“On the bottom are your run-of-the-mill problems,” he says, putting one hand out flat.

His other hand comes out to hover over the first.

“Then your regular-level shitshows, then your high-level shitshows and then there’s disasters,” he says, stacking his hands in the air to demonstrate the escalation.

You smother the urge to roll your eyes. Like most lawyers, Seokjin loves to hear himself talk.

He’s also an old friend, someone you trust and someone who’s help you desperately need -- so you’re going to have to suck it up and let him have some fun at your expense.

It’s only fair.

“Then somewhere way up here -- ” he stretches his upper body for effect, “ -- way past disasters is the shit you just told me. Somewhere way off the charts. Are you with me?”

You nod, taking a sip of your own beer.

“Yup.”

“So what the fuck?”

You laugh. You know it’s bad form to call up a buddy you haven’t seen in months, tell him you want to buy him a beer and then dump the world’s most complicated case at his feet.

It’s just that you haven’t been able to come up with another solution.

You’ve turned this problem over in your mind hundreds of times by this point -- envisioned dozens of ways this could end. No other scenario makes sense in the long run. This is the only way to put a stop to this madness without Jungkook behind bars for the rest of his natural life.

Or worse.

That’s why you’re prepared to pull out all the stops with Seokjin. You’re not going to let him get away with letting you down easy.

He hasn’t laughed you out of this bar yet so you’re taking that as a good sign.

“Jin, there isn’t anyone else who could pull this off,” you say, meaning every word. “I know you can fix this.”

He snorts.

“This guy gave agents the slip in two different countries and ghosted from a federal courthouse,” he takes another sip of his beer. There’s limits to what even I can do. Not that I don’t appreciate the ego stroke though, you know I do.”

You gnaw at the corner of one fingernail, thinking.

“So who is he?”

“I already told you, he --”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jin interrupts. “You know what I’m asking. Who is he to you?”

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question?

“It’s complicated,” you sigh, and even that is somehow oversimplifying this entire fucked-up situation. “Not sure I know how to explain that.”

“Oh, I’m willing to bet there is quite a story there,” he smirks. “Some day you’re going to have to fill me in on all the dirty details.”

You glance away for a moment to avoid his knowing look.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it,” you say. “I’ve seen guys way worse than this get deals that kept them out of prison entirely.”

“Well you of all people know how this works, so don’t act brand new,” Jin retorts. “You want the government to play ball with this guy then he’s got to give them something they want. If they don’t have any use for him, they have no reason to show mercy.”

“I know that,” you admit. “Still trying to figure that part out.”

“So figure it out,” Jin pushes back. “‘Cause I’m an attorney, not a genie. I’m not in the wish-granting business. Bring me something I can use and we’ll go from there.”

We’ll go from there. A careful hope stirs in your chest when Seokjin says that.

You promise yourself you’re going to bring him an angle that works.

Now you’ve just got to find it.

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

“Who is this guy to you?”

Jin’s question echoes in your head the entire way home.

It’s so much easier to focus on the what -- Jungkook on the run and all the problems that come with it -- than it is to focus on the why.

The why scares you too much to confront head-on. It’s not like you love this man, right?

He could be a terrible person. He could be as rotten in real life as he is on paper.

He could be playing you. It’s certainly not the first time the thought has crossed your mind.

But every time you start to entertain the doubts, something pulls you back. You can’t shake the feeling that Jungkook is none of those things. You can’t forget the way he looked at you in Puerto Rico. His face that night is forever burned into your mind.

So he’s either completely real or the world’s most convincing fake.

You pour a glass of water and unlock the burner phone. The message you’d tried to send back to the number he contacted you from bounced back. There hasn’t been a single new message since then.

You take a drink and consider what step to take next.

There is no way you’re going to push Jin to fight on Jungkook’s behalf until you know without a doubt this is something Jungkook wants for himself. For all you know, he’s happy with riding this out until the end. He could be totally at peace with the idea of never being at peace.

You stare at the screen for a moment before making up your mind to dial the number you’d found online.

The voice on the other end answers in Korean.

“Yoongi?” you ask.

The line is completely silent for a few seconds.

“I distinctly remember you promising me I’d never hear from you again,” comes the curt reply. You smile to yourself imagining the scowl he’s probably wearing right now.

“I did,” you admit. “Thing is --” you pause and choose your next words carefully, “ -- circumstances have changed. So I’m asking for your help one more time.”

Yoongi makes an aggravated noise, something between a growl and a grunt.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I might have a way to help him. Nothing is ironed out and there are no guarantees, but it’s something. It’s just that -- I haven’t been able to reach him.”

“Yeah well, neither have I.”

Shit. You hope the situation hasn’t gone completely upside-down in Nicaragua already. Getting him there was supposed to buy you some time.

“Okay, “ you exhale, pacing your kitchen floor. You tell yourself there could be a million reasons why he hasn't reached out to anyone. You tell yourself not to panic. You certainly don’t want to panic Yoongi, either.

“I need you to take down this number. If you reach Jungkook, you need to give it to him. Tell him if he wants to end this it’s the only way.”

Yoongi blows out a heavy breath.

“Yeah, alright. Go ahead.”

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

God, you are really starting to hate this place.

The voice in your head that’s been telling you how deeply unsatisfied you are in this job has slowly gotten louder over these past few months. Now it’s all you can think about every morning as you swipe your badge and walk into the polished lobby.

This isn’t some labor of love for you.

It’s something you trained to do, started doing, kept on doing and you’re still doing now.

On and on and on in an endless string of days.

You’d started this job with the kind of starry-eyed enthusiasm that always annoyed the veterans around here. Now you can understand why. It doesn’t take long in this line of work to realize that justice is a concept that’s bought and sold. He who has the most cash makes the rules.

You grab a cup of coffee and log onto your computer to start in on the mountain of paperwork that awaits. It’s laborious and annoying and total bullshit but at least it’s a distraction. At least it keeps you from obsessing over the Jungkook situation non-stop.

So you throw yourself into the work just to make the hours tick by.

Your boss stops by before lunch, asks if you want to join him and some of the others at a local deli. You cry off, complaining about paperwork and deadlines and he smiles sympathetically as they head out. It’s a relief when their laughing voices fade away and this part of the office falls silent.

You are half-way through customizing your burrito order online when a shiver of realization walks up your spine.

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

“Seokjin Kim.”

He sounds so formal, answering his phone for a number he doesn’t recognize.

“Hey, it’s me,” you say, tossing your keys onto your kitchen counter.

“Oh, I didn’t realize -- wait, wait, wait. Are you calling me from a burner?” Jin asks incredulously. “Wow, it’s like we’re on The Wire or some shit.”

“Shut up,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I’m calling because I think I might have come up with the angle.”

Jin whistles.

“Hope it’s a good one.”

“Yeah me too,” you mutter under your breath. “I just -- I can’t be involved in any way. I’m not even going to be able to talk to you until this plays out. No texts, no calls to my cell. I’m already way out on a limb here.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he says. “But hey, just for the record? A favor is something like, ‘Hey Jin, can you drop me at the airport on Tuesday? Hey Jin, would you mind picking up my dry cleaning?’ You know, for future reference.”

You laugh. Points were made.

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

You tell yourself -- this is long overdue.

That with or without Jungkook -- with or without the madness on that flight or the night in San Juan -- this was going to happen anyway.

And for the first time in weeks, you actually smile at the security guards who check bags at the entrance. You smile at the barista who talks too much at the Starbucks in the lobby. You smile at the creep from Cybercrimes on the elevator, even though he’s standing too close. He always stands too close.

You feel lighter than you have in ages and that’s fucking bizarre, because this could all still blow up in your face at any moment. Despite all you’ve done, Jungkook could be arrested at any time -- hauled away, locked away in prison for life. Hell, you could be joining him at some point, disgraced and discredited and detained.

But you woke up this morning and had a moment of clarity that knocked the wind out of you. Today, you’re going to walk out of this building on your own terms.

Every decision you’ve made along the way -- good or bad -- has been yours.

If they show up at your door with a warrant, then you’ll handle it. If they haul you off, then you’ll handle it. If Jungkook decides he wants Jin’s help and the agency never sniffs out a thing, then you’ll handle it.

You’ve done everything you can -- so either this works, or it doesn’t. But there’s a big fucking difference between being cautious and being scared.

You’ve decided you’re not going to be scared.

You read over the letter you’d typed, printed and signed before walking into your boss’s office.

His mouth gapes in surprise when you hand him your resignation.

Effective immediately.

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

It’s been three weeks without a word from anyone.

Yes, you did specifically tell Jin not to reach out, you remind yourself.

The last time you two had spoken, you’d explained that you didn’t give a shit about losing the job, but that you were certain were entirely too prissy to make it in prison, and he’d agreed and you’d both shared a laugh about that.

But now it’s been over three weeks and he still hasn’t reached out.

You’ve had no word from him, no word from Jungkook and now you have no job.

The silence is deafening.

If there’s an upside at this point, at least your house is immaculate. You’ve gotten your daily run up to three miles.

Tonight the air is unnaturally cool for this time of year, more than welcome when you lace up your running shoes. You set a good pace, make good time, and drown out the outside world with your earbuds.

But at the end of your run -- just as you’re getting closer to home -- you notice something odd.

Your porch light is out.

Which is weird because you definitely remember replacing that bulb not too long ago. You cut the music and walk quietly up to your door.

Your entire body is on high alert as you approach slowly, keys in hand on the off chance you’re going to have to wield them like a weapon.

But when you step up to the porch you find -- nothing.

No creep waiting to jump out of the shadows to ambush you. You shake your head at your own overactive imagination, take a deep breath and tell yourself to relax.

You slide your key in the lock.

The sunlight that had waned at the start of your run is entirely gone at this point, and you open the door into darkness. You flip on the light, toss your keys on the small table you keep in the entryway.

“Don’t freak out, okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice that comes from your living room. From your couch.

From inside your goddamned home.

Oh my god.

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

#jungkook smut #jungkooksmut #jungkook x reader #jungkookxread #bangtanarmynet #xjoonchildx #xjoonchildx fic:AP2 #btssmut #bts fanfic

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arthurtristankingsmen · 4 years ago

Text

More and longer theory chatter with @flash-the-geist with guest stars who popped in. This one is longer since it’s theorizing but turned into something Flash affectionately named the ‘Esprestissimo AU’ which I am keeping because I love it so much.

Most of this mainly features Duet thoughts and then shenanigans ! The most I did was add a missing thing in my own comments for clarification or that my brain skipped over when typing it before, or where I adjust the order of the messages for cohesiveness

please enjoy jdjd

flaaaash — Today at 4:35 AM

hmmm what if the note-taker is Duet, taking notes about "Solo"? that implies they're two different people

Arthur — Today at 4:36 AM

that's what i was thinking-- that the ‘He’ in the note is reverb, and this note is in reference to reverb, but also a comment on Solo, and the Duet 'wrote' this character profile as like-- a case file if they're in charge of the organization

so duet is like 'solo' claims she still needs to study him for research in a note on the file he's taking on reverb or something like that

flaaaash — Today at 4:37 AM

this might be my deep, unfortunate familiarity with bureaucracy talking, but- if the person in charge is also the one taking notes, it's a very small organization

Arthur — Today at 4:37 AM

oh yeah

i imagined it was tiny personally

tempo seems on the smaller side so if it's all based there, i was imagining it was relatively small

flaaaash — Today at 4:38 AM

not international then, perhaps

adkjfakjf oooh now I want to make a little card for Flash

Arthur — Today at 4:39 AM

yeah no-- at least since the name tempo of the town following the motif like seemingly implies it's based in/related to the town since if follows the reference style

or that's my thinking anyways?

flaaaash — Today at 4:39 AM

very true

imagine if Tempo is just Like That and the rest of the world is totally normal

Arthur — Today at 4:40 AM

i personally think vivi didn't grow up in tempo now more tho-- because i think if she did and there is an organization, they woulda gotten wind of her and she probably would've been recruited since she's smart and clearly into that kind of thing

and if she was in the org and knew what she was doing, i don't know if she would've gone to the cave if she was at all in the Know

flaaaash — Today at 4:40 AM

or they would have tried to study Mystery?

Arthur — Today at 4:41 AM

that too!!

even if they brought her in just because of mystery i imagine they would've brought her in

flaaaash — Today at 4:41 AM

maybe that's what the "her research into "REDACTED" is referring to. Research into mystery?

it all does seem to come back to him

Arthur — Today at 4:42 AM

or maybe she's relatively new to tempo still, and duet gave her a job because they intended to bring her in at some point but hadn't yet

like there were steps to take and like-- the cave happened before things could get fully underway

i mean at my job i applied in like-- march, and i didn't get an interview until may, and then i didn't get any training until november, and then i didn't get brought in to learn the job until december. so it'd be easy to imagine that if there was a reason, bringing her in could be a slow process

flaaaash — Today at 4:43 AM

that might also explain why there were all these "go back" signs in the cave

clearly someone with English language skills put the signage there

Arthur — Today at 4:43 AM

that too! it definitely felt like it was to warn off people and keep them from tresspassing

but the gang were kids and also ghost don't haunt the places that aren't super scary and dangerous! so of course they gotta go in!

flaaaash — Today at 4:45 AM

maybe they weren't expecting someone like Vivi at all

she was a wild card that popped up and threw a spanner in the works accidentally

Arthur — Today at 4:45 AM

yeah!

i can imagine her just coming in and completely bamboozling everyone

duet is like 'okay we'll get her in on this but we'll take some time to sort everything and judge where she's at skill wise since we have time and it's not like she can get into any danger with all our protective me--oh no'

flaaaash — Today at 4:48 AM

that calls Duet's motivation into question a lil bc - there's at least a significant amount of time between Lewis dying and them finding him again

since their search is reasonably extensive and Arthur's had time to heal up. So why didn't Duet do anything during this time?

Arthur — Today at 4:50 AM

hmmmm--- well we know it's been less than a year since the cave happened at least, and i think the way Ben talked about it sounded like it was a relatively short time table of only a few months, so maybe they wanted to give them recovery time or they weren't sure how to broach it-- i'm not sure. maybe the comic will give some kind of insight hopefully if the case is that vivi came in like that

i feel like it'd be interesting and make more sense given what she has available magic wise and mystery-wise if she wasn't in town until much later in life to explain why she wouldn’t already be working with the organization. but i'm still like hmm

because you do have a point that there would be a fair bit of inaction, unless for some reason vivi's memory issues or something was a problem or something happens in the prequel to explain or hint

tho now that brings into question if duet knows Lewis is dead, how are things not being managed better

i mean i've had arthur say in the past and i've said once or twice that like-- i think arthur was already working with prosthetics. so he could've had an arm mostly built and just had to make a more functioning one so that could've been fast. so hopefully maybe the prequel comic is set a bit before and might explain duet helping or something in a way that could make sense of it?

especially given he did make galaham's wheels already and such. he might've already built one but needed to make a new one set up for him

flaaaash — Today at 4:54 AM

I'm fairly sure people would at least know he's missing

I guess it's possible that the 'memory magic' thing that makes Vivi forget - it could affect everyone except Arthur and Mystery?

Arthur — Today at 4:56 AM

that's possible--

we have only seen mystery and arthur in the world seeming to know what's going on, so we don't know who knows what. just that vivi doesn't know lewis

but maybe nobody else does either to some degree

flaaaash — Today at 4:56 AM

Arthur being possessed at the time, and Mystery being a magical being himself. We don't have any evidence that anyone else remembers Lewis, although he seems to still be in pictures

Arthur — Today at 4:57 AM

people did seem confused arthur was freaking out in the store in the comic and like

idk. if i knew he lost his best friend i'd be more sympathetic/not look at him like he was crazy. I’d assume something set him off but probably feel bad for him if i knew what happened in the last year?

because i would imagine mental health is in the toilet after going on a trip and losing a friend even if he was only 'missing'

and the way arthur mentioned lewis and when vivi forgets he's just like 'nevermind'. if no one really remembers Lewis, then maybe giving up trying to explain is because he’s used to no one knowing who he means

flaaaash — Today at 4:58 AM

yea h

Arthur — Today at 4:58 AM

what if arthur only remembers lewis? (and mystery does)

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 4:58 AM

In fairness most people would be confused if they saw someone having a panic attack in public, no matter how much was known about the person

flaaaash — Today at 4:58 AM

also if Lewis looked like himself for a moment just before dropping Arthur - does that mean Lance saw him?

or did he only see skele-version and thus didn't recognize him as Lewis

Arthur — Today at 4:58 AM

hmmmmm--- i lean to skele vision. he turned back pretty quick iirc

flaaaash — Today at 4:59 AM

I'm torn between analysing between a storyteller perspective and an in-world perspective

Arthur — Today at 5:01 AM

por que no los dos?

also

hmmm-- i think given people were like 'what's up with that guy', it seemed either not knowing what was going on with him or what it could stem from, but if lewis disappeared in a small town i feel like a lot of the details would've spread. so they might assume it had to do with that instead-- so it feels like maybe most people don't know

which seems strange in a smaller community because stuff gets around

flaaaash — Today at 5:01 AM

especially since the Peppers own a restaurant

Arthur — Today at 5:01 AM

yeah-- in a small town place a restuarant is usually a social hub of sorts

so if lewis disppeared i'm sure people would talk given he was a waiter and thus kind of a face for the restaurant

flaaaash — Today at 5:02 AM

also if they think he's missing and not dead, his family would be looking for him too. which means missing persons pics and all that

Arthur — Today at 5:02 AM

yeah and we didn’t see any. and some people not knowing or visitors i could get, but everyone seemed surprised by arthur freaking out, and if they knew lewis was missing and lewis and arthur were friends, it feels odd to like-- none of them to even look sympathetic

i would imagine if they knew lewis was gone they'd assume arthur would be more emotionally reactive than usual-- unless they have no idea that something is going on with arthur because you know-- lewis is erased jdjd

i mean the reason we know vivi doesn't remember is because her eyes glowed as lewis got phased out of the photo

but who knows maybe him being phased out was in general and that just meant she was affected too. everyone gets amnesia

flaaaash — Today at 5:03 AM

also slightly cracky theory but - if they ended up accidentally in the research facility during Ghost, that would explain why Vivi found a fully-stocked fridge alkja;gl

Arthur — Today at 5:04 AM

DSJDDLJSDLFJDSJL

that would be hilarious

lewis is his own scp in his tantrum mansion

they just keep an eye on the lot

flaaaash — Today at 5:05 AM

well what else are they gonna do with him??? xD

Arthur — Today at 5:05 AM

dslsdjdsfljdsfd

''welp no one knows who this guy is soooooo manor in the middle of nowhere time'

flaaaash — Today at 5:06 AM

"so the waiter turned into a vengeful spirit?" "oh uhhhh ok put him in a box i guess until we figure something out?"

ok theory- Duet knows Lewis is dead, but is trying to figure out a way to help/break the memory magic on Vivi, and that's why he's in the mansion/cave for a while before Ghost?

Arthur — Today at 5:06 AM

i like it! i think them knowing and approaching arthur in the comic and using 'rancid vibes' as an excuse would make sense

flaaaash — Today at 5:07 AM

"so that Vivi person wandered in again somehow and now the vengeful waiter ghost is loose?" "for fuck's sake you had ONE JOB-"

Arthur — Today at 5:07 AM

they know what's actually going on but they kinda act like everyone else while also getting arthur something that might help him in that book that i think will be important in the plot of the prequel

DL;G;HDGSAL;HKGSDHL;DGS

flash you have the biggest brain

flaaaash — Today at 5:08 AM

,kadjgalgkj

"also there was this killer tree-" "I do not care about the tree, one problem at a time"

Poor Duet is having A Week

but the mental image of them trying to avoid Arthur and Vivi investigating, while trying to find ??? and re-capture him while shoving Lewis in a box is hilarious, and then they run into Shiromori and just throw their hands in the air like "can u not????". And then Murder Mystery shows up and they just quit

Arthur — Today at 5:10 AM

dlaajldkljjdl;dldjlfkfd

duet is just like

on their tenth cup of coffee

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:10 AM

Arthur: Those are rookie numbers

Arthur — Today at 5:11 AM

they see murder mystery and go back inside the shop like 'can you add like 5 espresso shots to this'

flaaaash — Today at 5:11 AM

explains why they're like "Arthur pls your vibes. Do you KNOW what I've been dealing with"

Arthur — Today at 5:11 AM

asdl;;dfslhsdahg;as;dghkghsdllhsgd

flaaaash — Today at 5:11 AM

"five extra shots and a red bull chaser please-"

Arthur — Today at 5:12 AM

(also just still crosses my fingers for medium/spiritually-sensitive!arthur to be canon but if not it will live on in my fannon)

dsldjllssfdf

they just start shoving coffee grounds directly into their mouth

flaaaash — Today at 5:12 AM

this series has a lot of antagonists

akjdalgj just crunching beans down whole

Arthur — Today at 5:13 AM

i need-- to draw duet

looking tired with a coffee

flaaaash — Today at 5:14 AM

Duet with a giant cup of coffee, staring at Murder Mystery with a deadpan stare and going "Absolutely not, I forbid it, there is not enough coffee in the WORLD."

Arthur — Today at 5:14 AM

flash and will if i share this chatter on tumblr would you be okay with it ? or would u rather i block out names if i do

i feel like some of this is hilarious and people need to experience it

flaaaash — Today at 5:14 AM

akdflaf no go for it

I will out myself as a sham of a storyboarder

Arthur — Today at 5:15 AM

duet is that gif of the ghost busters lady going 'mmm nope not today, room full of nightmares'

and turning and walking away

duet is doing their best and needs a nap

tired as Arthur

flaaaash — Today at 5:15 AM

Duet walking around the corner to see the gang facing down Murder Mystery: swivels on one foot and goes right back the way they came

Arthur — Today at 5:15 AM

ldjldljd EXACTLY

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:16 AM

Heheheheh

Arthur — Today at 5:16 AM

like look at this person

look at their eyebags

they are Tired

they have deal with this bullshittery

they have sass to provide

but they also are Tired and done with this shit

flaaaash — Today at 5:16 AM

I want Duet and Arthur playing a game of caffeine chicken

Marshy — Today at 5:16 AM

Huge massive sigh as they see the whole bullshit situation go down and turns around to go back to the bookshop

flaaaash — Today at 5:16 AM

just lined up at the cafe bar, espresso shots in rows down the counter as they lock eyes-

who shall win- the CAFFEINE-OFF?

Arthur — Today at 5:17 AM

flash

pls if you right that i will pay you money

or maybe art

Marshy — Today at 5:17 AM

It's me I'll win

flaaaash — Today at 5:17 AM

SLFKJLKGS

Arthur — Today at 5:17 AM

dlasd;sdgkd;djslj;dags

i'm rooting for you take those nerds OUT

flaaaash — Today at 5:18 AM

"Duet gives him a look of Supreme Weariness and Nopery. Arthur counters with a double eye-roll of Resignation and Angst. In the true synchronicity of the Absolutely Done, they each take an espresso shot and slam it down."

Arthur — Today at 5:20 AM

djdasd;ds;lsda;ldj;lkdsl;jkdsj;lkasljkdjlkdg

they clink the little cups together first before taking their respective shots

flaaaash — Today at 5:21 AM

they do the thing where they turn it upside down to prove it's empty

by the fifth they're trying to outcompete each other with anecdotes

by the tenth they've moved onto toasting each other

Arthur — Today at 5:21 AM

Bonding!

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:22 AM

The anecdotes get concerningly similar to each others

flaaaash — Today at 5:22 AM

by the twelfth, Arthur begins weeping. Duet pats him in solidarity and knocks the next shot clean off the counter due to caffeine-induced twitching

Arthur — Today at 5:22 AM

DSGLAHGLDGHDGHAAHDSGDG

EXCELLENT

want them to be friends now

flaaaash — Today at 5:23 AM

by the thirteenth, the barista stages an intervention and starts giving them decaf

by this point, they don't notice

Arthur — Today at 5:23 AM

asdlaadjsdsajd

thank you they owe you their life

they could taste the difference if they weren't vibrating into the 28the dimension atm

flaaaash — Today at 5:24 AM

after the fifteenth shot, the counter is clear and they're both full of sympathetic outrage for the other's plight. They sprint from the cafe, steamroll right over Shiromori, and punt the colours right out of Murder Mystery in a fit of industrial-strength caffeinated indignance.

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:24 AM

Hahahaha

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

h;lsadlf;dsldj;fsljl;dfsajdfsa

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

The newly Monochromatic Mystery has to then help Vivi contain the pair before they wipe all paranormal activity off the face of Tempo.

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

that's how the fifth video ends

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

Lewis narrowly escapes by hiding in a box. THE END

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

dsal;gsdhldgsa;dgsdgs;hldgs;lhdsa

beautiful thank u flash

i owe you my life

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

you're welcome it's my magnum opus

Arthur — Today at 5:26 AM

A+ story telling

i'm including it in the post

flaaaash — Today at 5:26 AM

ALKJGAGK

it's okay I don't have a reputation to ruin xD

Arthur — Today at 5:26 AM

dlasdl;dhsgldgdgs

this is a callout for flash being the funniest person alive--

or undead

flaaaash — Today at 5:27 AM

dead-

sfkjga

Arthur — Today at 5:27 AM

djdjdjdj

i thought about it and corrected myself xDD

flaaaash — Today at 5:30 AM

ok I have no idea if anyone will get this pun, but I dub this the Esprestissimo AU

Arthur — Today at 5:36 AM

djalsd;ldsjdsjldf

i LOVE THAT

music puns but espressos EXTRA ESPRESSOLY

flaaaash — Today at 5:49 AM

#headcanon #msa headcanon discussion #tristan rambles #flashthegeist #IT WAS SO MUCH FUN #duet #arthur #vivi #long post #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls #my original stuff

23 notes · View notes

sondepoch · 4 years ago

Text

1 Day Before Rebellion

All Hail (Diavolo x Reader)

The current ruling class is brutal. Draconian. Tyrannical. Every demon who has sat the throne for the past ninety thousand years has brought nothing but hardship to the Devildom—something Diavolo and his father intend to remedy by seizing power as leaders of the Resistance. When Diavolo happens to come across the princess of the Devildom, he’s overjoyed. He sees you as an opportunity, a sign from a higher power that his cause is just; and he plans to use you as a pawn in his Rebellion. But life rarely goes as planned, especially in Hell. And when Diavolo realizes that he’s falling in love with you, things suddenly feel a lot more complicated than they used to be.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | ✔

MASTERLIST

All you can think about is Diavolo.

And the overwhelming stench of blood that lingers in the air.

You swallow thickly and study the arena, gripping the edge of your bench in hopes that the action will soothe the sick feeling in your stomach.

Have the cage fights always been this bloody?

You toy with the question in your mind, struggling to come up with an answer. It's been nearly half a year since you last visited one of these underground rings—you've been using your free time on Diavolo instead, these past few months—and your memories are foggy. The only proper thing you remember is how savagely the Victor had assaulted Diavolo the night you met, and how this season doesn't seem to be any less violent.

"It's okay," You mumble to no one, forcing yourself to heed the words. You have to be calm. Diavolo has enough to worry about without knowing that you're terrified to the core on the benches. "He's going to be okay."

But no matter how many times your mind whispers that your lover will be fine, your heart beats a different rhythm.

"And now, we have the first of our competitors for the fourth round of combat! On one side of the cage, we have the second-place semifinalist from last season's tournament! And on the other side, we have a total newbie, calling themselves the Fists of Purgatory! Let the fight begin!"

You wince as the two fighters start for each other, a shudder running up your spine when the unfamiliar men grab at each other's throats.

There isn't an ounce of restraint in the way their fists swing. These men are making use of sick lack of rules for these underground fights. They have nothing to hold them back, and their fists are flying wild, blood already spilling onto the floor.

They're fighting to kill.

You shiver, gripping the bench tighter.

Diavolo told you not to come. He knew that seeing these fights wouldn't be good for you. That you're already worrying enough about how he'll fare when he inevitably goes against the Victor, and that this will do nothing but further your concerns.

At the time, you whacked him on the head and told him not to be ridiculous. You'd been sneaking out to watch cage fights for years, and the violence had only unnerved you once or twice.

But now?

Every demon who gets injured takes the face of Diavolo. And when the stronger demon in the ring grabs the weaker one by the neck and bashes his head against the wall, it's Diavolo's face you imagine being brutalized.

The very thought makes everything so much worse.

"And we have a winner! In record time of just forty-two seconds, our semifinalist from last year advances to the fifth round! Check back in two hours to find out if our losing demon is truly dead, or if he's simply unconscious. And now, onto the next set of competitors—"

You tune the announcer out, standing abruptly. Diavolo defeated his opponent for this round a long time ago; he won't be fighting for another half hour, at the very least.

But a voice pulls your attention away.

"Where are you going, miss?"

Your eyes dart down to the man sitting next to you, surprised to find him looking up at you in an expression of curiosity. You can't see his face, given that his mask covers everything except his eyes, but you're positive that there's a smile on his face as he speaks.

"A-ah," You mumble, feeling caught off guard. It's rare for people to speak to each other during these fights. Most conversations happen between those who already know each other, and the rest simply wear their masks in silence, guarding their anonymity like it's the only treasure they possess. This may just be the first time someone has spoken to you from within the stands. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to disturb your view of the fighters. It's just that I was feeling rather lightheaded, so I was hoping to get some fresh air outside. If you don't mind, might I go past you?"

"I see," The demon responds, looking thoughtful. "I have no qualms with letting you past, miss, but would you entertain the notion of me joining you? These fights have been rather boring, after all, and I also would like a change in scenery."

"Of course, Sir!" You exclaim instantly, your princessly instincts taking over as you accept the man's courteous invitation. You wince a little on the inside, abruptly realizing that this might not have been the best idea, especially given the shadiness of all things and people tied to these underground cage fights—but you're confident in your strength, so if this mysterious man tries anything, you're positive that you'll be able to defend yourself.

"Let us go," The man responds with a twinkle in his eye, extending his arm to you. Without a moment's hesitation, you take it, masking all your inner reservations as the two of you walk in line until you're outdoors.

"Ahh," You whisper the moment you've stepped outside. The cool wind rushes through your body like a tidal wave, and you're overcome with the urge to rip your clay mask off to feel the breeze against your face, but you resist it. "It's much more pleasant out here. Wouldn't you agree, Sir?"

"Indeed. Perhaps we ought to recommend that these cage fights be held outdoors instead. I can never sit through a full night of watching without sneaking out to the balconies at least once."

The man lets out a low chuckle, and you can't help but think that the sound is awfully similar to Diavolo's laugh. Of course, this man is nothing like your lover, his stature built smaller and leaner—but a quiet voice at the back of your mind tells you that there are more similarities between them. Perhaps the way they walk or the aura that hovers over them—but something about this man distinctly reminds you of Diavolo.

You study him from the corner of your eye.

Now that the two of you are outside, you can properly see the demon. The moon watches over the two of you, illuminating the green hair that peeks out from behind his mask, curtained just behind a bright patch of turquoise that hangs off one side of his face.

Lovely, you can't help but think.

The boldness of the green reminds you of Diavolo's own fiery reds.

"What brings you to these cage fights, Sir?" You try to start a conversation, breaking the silence of the night.

"Boredom, I suppose. Though on occasion, it is duty that calls." The man muses. "I often tell myself that I come to watch the fighters fight. The tides of the realm are ever-changing, and it's crucial for us commonfolk to know where the power lies in the underground. Other times, I come on the orders of the man I owe fealty to. He enjoys learning about new combat techniques."

"And tonight?" You keep your tone light, almost teasing.

"I'm here to visit a friend and an enemy."

The demon doesn't say anything after that.

"I see," You murmur, bringing a hand to your face, pushing your mask further up so that it doesn't impair your vision. "I hope happiness finds your friend and that vengeance is delivered for your enemy. May the lords of Hell see your wishes true."

"Thank you, miss." The demon takes another step forward, bringing you both so close to the balcony that the loose fabric of your commoner's robe touches it. "And what brings you here? You do not seem the type to view violence for the entertainment of it."

A light laugh leaves your throat at that, awkward at the realization that this man saw how unnerved you were. It's wholly unbefitting of a demon to flinch at the sight of blood—but you couldn't help yourself. The very thought of Diavolo being hurt sends a chill down your spine.

"I'm also here for a friend. In case he gets hurt."

"I see. Do you worry that he will be defeated?"

"Oh no. Not at all. If I'm being perfectly candid, Sir, I'm quite confident that he'll make it to the finals. It's simply that I fear he may get injured in the process. I spent a rather long time healing him before, you see, so I'd rather not have him get hurt again."

"A noble sentiment. You must be a healer, then." The demon's words are even, and you abruptly realize your mistake.

"Y-yes," You mumble instantly, hoping that he won't press on the subject. Only royalty has access to medicines and most healing products; nearly all healers have been driven out of business by your family's laws. If the man asks a single question, you know all too well that your lying skills will be no defense.

You draw your hands into fists as subtly as you can, already preparing to knock him out.

"If I know your profession, I suppose it's only fair that you know mine." You blink as the man skips over your words entirely, not a single word of doubt crossing his lips.

"Which is?" You press, eager to move on from the topic of your own supposed occupation.

"A butler."

You blink.

"A butler?" You ask, trying to confirm what you heard.

"A butler."

You nod your head slowly, forcing yourself to process the words. A butler, you think, squinting at the demon from the corner of your eye. Only the royal palace and the highest-ranking nobles have butlers—nearly all commoners are either too poor or too oppressed to have any—but you're positive you've never seen this man in your life. Namely, you've never seen that patch of teal before, the only distinctive feature you can identify when this demon's face is hidden by his mask.

"I see," You mumble after a long time. "That's quite fascinating, Sir."

"Is it? A butler's duty is hardly anything special. I'm sure that healers are much more interesting. Especially given the condition of the medical markets. It must be quite the journey, obtaining all the materials you need for your work."

"Do you truly think so?" You laugh awkwardly, beginning to sense an edge to the butler's voice. Was it always there? "The underground markets have everything, Sir. Even those which the imperial palace has denied to the commoners."

"I did not know that, miss." The butler looks at you from behind his mask, and suddenly his deep green eyes no longer seem casual. His gaze is dark, as if he's seeing into your very soul. "Despite all my connections, I can't think of a single demon who has received any medical supplies in a millennium. You simply must tell me where you're buying your goods from."

The shrewd, calculating look in the butler's eye sharpens, and now it feels like he's no longer staring into your soul but surveying its contents, analyzing every truth you have hidden away.

It sends a jolt of fear straight to your heart.

"I'm getting rather cold, Sir," You deflect, hoping that your nervousness doesn't seep into your voice. You were confident before that you could defeat this man if the situation called for it, but you're beginning to have doubts now that you can feel how sturdy his grip on your arm is. "Might we go inside?"

"Of course, miss."

Abruptly, the greens of his eyes lose their scrutinous edge and fade into a softer tone.

You instinctively relax.

A voice at the back of your mind whispers that maybe it was all your imagination. Your paranoia at being found out. Your fear for Diavolo infecting all else, causing you to view everyone and everything through a lens of skepticism.

But when you glance at the butler on your right, your eyes glazing over his features once more, you're certain that you didn't imagine that cunning gaze. You may have read too deeply into his words and overanalyzed actions, but that look he gave you was real.

And it was terrifying.

"Oh my," The demon murmurs, though the surprise in his voice sounds fake. "It would appear that we missed quite a few matches."

You blink in surprise, your eyes flying to the far wall where the winners from each block are drawn up. Your eyes widen when you realize that the fifth column is almost completely filled, only the bottom bracket left without a clear winner.

The man at your side pulls you forward, walking you back to your seat, and you squint to make out the figures in the cage below.

Alas, it seems that the two of you are late even for this fight, and it's clear that the battle is over. One demon stands over the other, the standing demon's foot hovering just above the weaker's stomach in a silent threat as to what will happen if surrender isn't swift and immediate.

The demon on top presses his foot down a little further, now touching skin, and his eyes take on an intimidating glint, burning bright with the adrenaline of combat—and then the demon beneath him has raised a hand with four fingers extended in surrender, and the round is complete.

The winner withdraws immediately, stepping back as the crowd rises to their feet with the ringing of bells, everyone elated at the realization that the first night is over.

But then, the demon looks up. Up at the crowd. Up at you. And your eyes widen, because you recognize those eyes.

His mask hides his face well, and his outfit is different than anything you've ever seen. But you know that shade of red too well.

Diavolo.

But as you watch the demon raise his fist, egged on by the cheers of the crowd, a small part of you think that this isn't quite the Diavolo you know. That this man, with such a dark glint in his eyes, is as unfamiliar to you as the butler you met outside.

You shake the thought from your mind, forcing yourself to applaud with the audience as you stand in congratulations and try not to think about the look in Diavolo's eyes.

It must have been your imagination.

Diavolo's training room stinks of sweat, blood, and grime.

The sweat is Diavolo's own—one can hardly participate in a cage fight and not expect a little perspiration.

The blood is of his enemies; not a single one has been able to land a clean hit on him, though their ichor paints his knuckles as a reminder of every punch he's delivered today, every punch you taught him to deliver.

But the grime?

The grime is an entirely different story.

The grime has been in this room from the very start. The grime is a reminder, a filthy, disgraceful reminder of the overwhelming loss Diavolo suffered at the hands of the Victor in the previous season. The grime is a message from those running the cage fights that Diavolo means nothing to them, that they see no potential in him. The grime is an outright insult, not an ounce of subtlety, claiming that he doesn't even have the right to a clean room like his competitors.

In this awful, disgusting room, Diavolo hardly cares about how the towels on the floor are covered in dried blood and sweat.

No, it's the grime that disturbs him.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, yanking his shirt off and throwing it into a locker, one of the only things in this room that isn't downright filthy. At this point, he just wants to change as fast as possible and wrap you in his arms, showering you in kisses and affection.

Of course, the world never gives Diavolo what he wants.

"There you are."

The demon freezes, his eyes widening. Impossible, he thinks. There's no way…

Diavolo turns around slowly, eyes round in disbelief as he casts a glance behind his shoulder—and sure enough, there stands the demon butler that has been by his side for so many centuries.

"Barbatos," He whispers softly, turning around.

"My lord."

The butler smiles cryptically, but Diavolo knows him well enough to see the quiet happiness that lurks in the greens, pushed far back but still not far enough.

The men stare at each other for a moment, eyes communicating everything that words cannot—and instantly, they understand each other's stories. Barbatos sees the trouble Diavolo has been facing for months on end, the struggle of love and obligation, battling each other eternally in the back of the future prince's mind. Diavolo, in turn, realizes how much his friend seems to have aged over the course of these past months, a soft sympathy settling into his eyes when he considers just how much Barbatos must have been working in preparation for Rebellion, his workload nearly doubled since Diavolo hasn't been there to help him.

The demons stare at each other for a beat longer, eyes searching for anything that might have been missed—and then the moment has passed, the spell broken. Barbatos steps forward, and Diavolo turns around fully.

"It has been too long," The redhead murmurs, leaning back against a wall.

"Indeed. But there is no time to speak, my lord."

"Oh?" Diavolo's lips curve into a frown. A bitterness settles in his heart, the abrupt realization: Ah yes, you fool. What did you expect? Barbatos is here for one reason, and one reason alone.

"Tell me," He grunts with as much politeness as he can muster, continuing to dress. "What is so urgent that you couldn't use magic to speak with me?"

"It is not a matter of magic. I am here to fight you."

"Excuse me?"

Diavolo stares dumbly at the butler, wondering if he misheard the man. But the utterly serious look in Barbatos's eyes leaves no room for confusion, and the demon is positive that he did not misspeak.

"Barbatos, why would you ever want to—"

Diavolo can't even finish his sentence before the demon is attacking him, swift punches being thrown left, right, and center as the redhead scrambles back in defense.

"Barbatos!" He shouts, desperately scrambling around the tiny room as he evades the butler's kicks. "What are you doing?! This is madness!"

But the butler pays him no heed, only continuing to throw a flurry of attacks that Diavolo scrambles to avoid. "I order you!" He tries, eyes wide in alarm. "As your liege lord's son, I order you to stop!" Yet Diavolo has no authority over the teal-haired demon, for the butler works for his father, not him, and it's hardly long before Barbatos has begun to wear the redhead down, the abrupt assault after a long night of nonstop fighting forcing Diavolo's hand.

He grunts in anger as he begins to fight back, no longer dodging Barbatos's kicks but countering them with his own, red eyes narrowing in an odd mix of fury and confusion as he begins returning attacks.

Within minutes, the two are genuinely sparring and giving it their all in the small space, Diavolo panting and shirtless as he throws what little strength he has left at the butler and Barbatos only mildly disheveled as he continues to attack.

Diavolo is practically gasping for air by the time he finally traps Barbatos against a locker, slamming the demon against it with enough force to kill, though the demon of time looks wholly unaffected by the motion. Fighting Barbatos is nothing like fighting you—you, at the very least, have the graciousness to warn Diavolo before you start. And when you punch, there isn't the risk of shattering bone.

Diavolo grabs the butler by the collar and uses what little magic he knows to trap the demon in place, holding him still even as he stumbles back and collapses against the other side of the wall.

"Good," Barbatos blurts, abruptly freeing himself of Diavolo's magic. "That was very well-fought, my lord."

"What?" Diavolo snaps, and this time, he's genuinely irritated. He raises his fists in preparation to fight once more, but the butler waves him away.

"Your father wished for me to come and test the extent of your skills. Indeed, you have improved as much as you claimed to have. I assume that this was not your full strength, given that you've spent the greater majority of the night fighting other demons in cages, but you do indeed have the potential to defeat the Victor."

"You...were testing me?" Diavolo asks suspiciously, eyebrows still furrowed.

"Yes, my lord."

The redhead groans.

"Why couldn't you have just said that, Barbatos?" Diavolo runs a hand through his hair, noting with frustration that it's damp with sweat once more.

"Why, that would have taken all the fun out of it, wouldn't you agree?" The butler smiles his usual cryptic smile. To anyone else, it looks ominous. Cold. Maybe even scary. But Diavolo can see the childlike amusement that curves the butler's lips upward, the man almost giddy with satisfaction after his little stunt.

"Thank you for that," Diavolo blurts sarcastically, reaching for a towel. He tries not to think about the fact that he'll have to wash up all over again.

"You're welcome, my lord. At the same time, however, we do have urgent matters to discuss." Diavolo arches an eyebrow. "The princess."

He sighs.

Whatever illusions he may have harbored about Barbatos's sudden appearance are shattered the moment those words leave the demon's lips. Hearing them from another Resistance member makes the situation feel so much more dire, so much more real.

So much more urgent.

"Say what you need to," Diavolo mumbles, keeping his eyes low.

"I met her."

Diavolo’s eyes narrow.

"Barbatos, do not—"

"I did not do anything to her, my lord. We merely had a conversation. A rather brief one, at that. Do not look at me like that. It was entirely unplanned. I might not have even spoken to her if she didn't appear so nervous during the cage fights."

"She was nervous?" Diavolo interrupts, eyebrows raised. You had assured him time and time again that this wouldn't be a problem, that you wouldn't be uncomfortable with watching him fight.

"She was trembling, my lord."

Diavolo clicks his tongue in aggravation. "I told her it wouldn't be a good idea…"

"No matter. There were no bystanders around us when we spoke, so you do not need to worry for her safety. Though I must say, you were right about her utter inability to lie." A ghost of a smile appears on Barbatos's face. "It was almost enjoyable to watch her attempt to deceive me."

"Quiet, Barbatos," Diavolo warns sharply, though there's no real edge to his voice. He leans back, a soft smile dancing on his lips as his mind fills with pictures of you. "But what did you think of her? You must understand what I mean now, don't you? She's genuinely good, Barbatos. I'm certain that if we introduce her to Father, he'll realize that she's nothing like the family she hails from, and—"

"My lord."

Barbatos shakes his head disapprovingly.

"You are beyond the age of fairy tales. There is no happy ending for this princess, no matter how much you like her."

And with those words, Diavolo completely deflates.

His shoulders drop and he turns around, quietly knowing better than to argue with the butler when he speaks these truths. But when Barbatos sees Diavolo dressing so sullenly, he's reminded not of the future prince he will one day serve but is instead brought to thoughts of the past: a time where he and Diavolo were nothing but casual friends, a time when Diavolo had the luxury to pout like this and do nothing but brood.

"She does—" Barbatos clears his throat uncomfortably, not used to speaking of people in this way. "I did not mean to invalidate your feelings, my lord. She does have a...strange sort of charm. And there is...a certain...kindness, ahem, that one might find in her."

"There is, isn't there?" Diavolo pauses in buttoning his shirt to cast a wistful glance at his friend—and for a moment, Barbatos shudders, because the look that Diavolo wears as he thinks of you is pure love. "She's absolutely amazing in every regard. You can't help but be drawn to her. No matter how you try to fight it. Which is why I truly believe that if we introduce her to Father, we—"

Barbatos cuts Diavolo off abruptly, raising a hand.

The redhead quiets instantly, already prepared for his butler to launch into another lecture about how ridiculous it is that Diavolo is even entertaining these notions in his mind—but then he sees the alarmed look in his butler's eye, and Barbatos drops his voice to a whisper.

"I must leave, my lord." Barbatos sounds panicked, rushed as he mumbles words out while glancing at the door. "But remember, Rebellion is hinged on your success in defeating the Victor. You have it in you, my lord, you simply must be prepared for—"

He's cut off in the middle of his sentence when the sound of a click rings through the room, and then Barbatos has vanished entirely, gone in the blink of an eye such that when the door to Diavolo's room opens, the demon is standing alone.

"Diavolo?" You call gently, somewhat surprised to see him staring at empty space.

The moment Diavolo hears your voice, all thoughts of Barbatos and his warnings go out the window. He grins, kicking a towel away to trap you in a hug that lifts you off your feet for a few seconds as you laugh and press a kiss to the demon's cheek.

"Why are you taking so long?" You pout, buttoning up the remainder of Diavolo's shirt. "Nearly all the other cage fighters have left for the night."

"I'm sorry, darling," Diavolo apologizes, sighing. "I got caught up. I'm ready to head out now, though."

"No worries," You mumble casually, wrapping your arm around Diavolo's as you slip his mask onto his face and open the door, gesturing dramatically with a giggle as the two of you step outside. "But I just wanted to let you know that I'm very proud of you."

"Oh?" Diavolo asks, interlacing his fingers with yours. It's a bit awkward due to the height difference between the two of you, but within moments your arms are swinging at a leisurely pace, one comfortable for you both. "You know, I think you were more scared than proud up on the bleachers."

"I was not!" You defend indignantly. "If—if you saw me shaking, it was with excitement, Diavolo! Not—not fear! I was excited!"

The demon opens his mouth to say something more, to criticize your atrocious attempt at lying or to laugh some more and lay a kiss across your forehead, but he's interrupted when another demon pops up out of seemingly nowhere.

"Ma'am!" The demon shouts, waving a bandaged arm as he's carried away by a stretcher. "Thank you so much again!"

"I am glad to have helped you, Sir," You call back, cheerful. Your mask hides your face, but Diavolo is already aware of the beaming smile you wear based on how bright your eyes shine. "I hope your injuries heal well!"

The demon shouts something back at you, too far for either you or Diavolo to understand, but you respond with a gentle wave, calling "Good luck!" to the man for good measure.

"What was that all about?" Diavolo asks once the two of you have stepped outside. "You helped him?"

"Yeah." You let out a light laugh, almost sheepish. "Right before I went to see you, I saw him on the ground. His arm was injured rather severely, but had some medical ointment with me in case you got injured, so I used it on him. That's why I was late in coming to your room. He must have wanted to thank me, since he was mostly unconscious while I patched him up."

A warm smile crosses Diavolo's face at that, the demon proud to know that his lover has such a selfless heart.

"You really are too good, do you know that?" He squeezes your hand gently, wishing that he could rip his mask off and kiss you here.

"Hush," You mumble. "You would have done the same. It's our obligation to help those who need it."

"Oh?" Diavolo's eyes are filled with teasing mirth. "Are you saying that when you first tended to my wounds, it was out of obligation?"

"Hey!" You pout, swatting Diavolo's arm. "You know it's not like that! I just…"

"You just…?" Diavolo quirks an eyebrow at you, grinning as he pulls you outside the cage fighting arena and onto the street, already heading in the direction of the Temple of the Grim Reaper.

"I just want to help everyone I can." You relax as Diavolo tenses his hold around your fingers, the demon instinctively stiffening the moment those words leave your mouth.

"I do, too," Diavolo mumbles. But he's no longer thinking of you helping that demon, but instead of everything he'll have to do to you in the name of saving the greater good.

"I know, Diavolo." You grin at him, untying your mask as you beam up at him.

For a moment, the soft, understanding light in your eyes makes it seem like you really do know.

But then Diavolo is exhaling sharply, hiding his pained expression behind his mask as he realizes that you don't. That you can't. That Barbatos was right, and your story will end in nothing but misery.

You've never seen so much death.

All around you, there are corpses: bodies lying on the ground, either already lost to the world or drowning in their own blood. But you don't stop to look at them. Your dress is bundled up in your fists as you sprint down the hall, racing to a secret exit that only you know about.

The place that surrounds you seems to be the palace. Seems to be, because you're certain that the real palace isn't this dark. This ominous. This foreboding.

You shudder as a voice calls your name, a weak "princess" escaping the lips of a palace worker you vaguely recognize the voice of. Still, though, you don't stop.

The bodies that you've left behind in your run seem to be pulling you back. The weight of their burden falls on your shoulders as you struggle to take each step, the secret exit to the palace so close but so far away.

You reach a hand out, trying desperately to grab at a corner of the wall. To yank your body forward and pull your way to safety, to a place free of all this bloodshed.

But your fingers only touch air, and you're left struggling to move forward once more.

You fight your way forward, a garbled gasp leaving your lips as you struggle past a room—but you make the mistake of looking inside.

And there you see it.

Him.

Diavolo.

He's sitting in the throne room, though you can't come up with a single reason why he's here. You can only see the vague outline of his body, but you've spent too many hours running your fingers through his hair to miss the distinctive shape that the tresses take.

You halt in your run, your arm abruptly reaching for the man you love.

"Diavolo!" You shout, hoping that he'll come forward. That his silhouette will turn clear. That he'll save you from this dark, violent dream.

You call his name again, the word forcing its way past your lips despite the difficulty it takes to say it, but then it doesn't even matter because you're screaming for him, and you're desperately wondering why he isn't moving. Why his silhouette is so still. Why he does nothing as the outline of his figure watches you drop to your knees.

"Are you dead too?" You ask meekly, dropping to your knees. You glance around you, and even more bodies litter the floor.

But Diavolo is poised as ever: too upright to be dead but too still to be alive.

There's a man behind him. Another distinctly familiar figure, though you can't place where you know him from. You glance up at the two of them, your eyes filled with tears, and you reach an arm forward to crawl your way to the throne—to the darkness that Diavolo seems to emanate.

"Please," You whisper, practically dragging your body forward as you throw yourself at his feet. "Please be alive," You pray, clasping his foot when you're close enough.

And it's only here, when you're this close, that you can look up and see the expression on his face. If you do, you'll see his eyes, the amber eyes you've fallen in love with, and you'll know whether he truly is alive.

So you raise your head.

Slowly, impossibly slowly, you lift your gaze from his feet to his knees. His knees to his chest. His chest to his jaw.

You brace yourself for the worst, your sobs already worsening, and you begin to look higher and higher, just below his eyes and then you've looked up and—

"Darling!"

The shout pulls you from your nightmare, your eyes flying open in alarm.

Diavolo.

You shoot off his chest abruptly, impossibly alert despite having woken from your nap mere seconds ago, and spin around in his arms, cupping his cheeks with both your hands.

"Diavolo?" You mumble, a rush of emotion hitting you all at once. You were crying in your sleep before, but now is when you truly begin to sob, giving the demon no choice as you fling yourself forward and trap him in an embrace so tight he seems to choke. "You're alive," You mumble, still not believing the words. "You're alive. You're alive. You're alive."

If Diavolo didn't know what was troubling you in your sleep before, he's able to piece together the clues from your words. Within seconds, he's got his arms wrapped around you in quiet reassurance.

"Shh," He mumbles into your ear even as you continue to choke over the fact that he's actually here. That it was just a nightmare. That you're not surrounded by death and blood and violence, and that things are okay once more. "It was just a dream, darling," He rocks you in his arms, fingers running through your hair in soothing motions as you struggle to compose yourself. "I'm here. I'm alive. No one hurt me. I'm alive."

Your fingers tremble for a moment as you recall the contents of your dream: that he might be alive, but those palace workers were doubtlessly dead as you crossed them.

A sick feeling settles in your stomach. An overwhelming sense of anxiety, prompted by the inexplicable notion that this wasn't just a dream. That it was something more.

The very thought makes your eyes widen.

It felt like a warning.

"Diavolo," You blurt, leaning back. You force him to look you in the eyes, ignoring the concerned look he shoots you in return. "You can't go back to the cage fighting ring."

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"I'm serious! In—in my dream, I didn't know if you were alive or dead! It was—everyone was—there was death in the air, Diavolo! It—"

"Shh," He mumbles, quieting you as he pulls you into another embrace. "Darling, seeing those cage fights must have scared you more than you thought. I'm not going to get hurt. And even if I lose to the Victor, I'm not going to die. Alright?"

"No," You blurt, withdrawing. "Diavolo, you don't understand. My dream—my dream felt real! Like—like it was a sign—I'm being honest! And I know it sounds stupid, but I hardly think it's a coincidence that you were the focus of my dream, and now you're going off to the in the final night of the cage fights."

But the demon shakes his head, the look in his eyes disbelieving even as you try to get him to understand your dream.

"Diavolo, please! Just do this one thing for me! I know that it's a matter of pride, that you want to defeat the man who humiliated you—but I feel like my dream was urging us against this very thing!"

"Darling," Diavolo interrupts softly, touching your cheek. "You know you're a terrible liar, right?"

Your cheeks warm at that, and you feel a slight blow to your pride, but you nod your head. "Fine. I am. But how exactly does this relate?"

Diavolo chuckles, stealing a chaste kiss from your lips. "You're just as terrible at hiding things, love. I know that you've been on edge ever since you saw me fight on the first night of the cage fights." The demon leans back, tracing the outline of your cheek. "This dream is just the manifestation of those nerves. It means nothing. I'll be fine, I promise you."

"You don't know that," You grumble. But in your heart, you do see the merit to Diavolo's words.

It's been three nights now of nonstop fighting. You've already fallen into a schedule. You stay at the palace for breakfast and dinner, pretend to travel to the homes of various nobles for lunch while you visit (and nap with) Diavolo, and spend your nights watching the demon fight his way through the tournament.

But tonight is the fourth night.

And short as the fighting "season" is, none of the past three nights' combat will be able to compare to the brutalities Diavolo encounter tonight.

Every waking moment has been spent in quiet fear for Diavolo; you believe in his skills, but you have no faith in those around him. Cage fighting is a sport of the underground for a reason—the participants are not to be trusted. These past few days, you've been living in constant fear that Diavolo is going to go against a less-than-honorable fighter who will approach him with poison coating his knuckles. Or that he'll face someone concealing a weapon. Or that the no-teeth rule will be "forgotten," and your lover will be publicly mutilated.

You can't even try to pretend that the fear hasn't been messing with your mind.

"I don't think you should come tonight," Diavolo mumbles quietly.

"What?" You snap. You lean back, glaring harshly. "Diavolo, tonight is the single most important night—"

"And it will be the bloodiest. Those remaining are strong, but fierce. I made it to the fourth night when I last fought, and you remember how savagely I was defeated."

"Exactly!" You protest. "Diavolo, you can't possibly expect me to let you go in there alone. The arena is practically a den of wolves!"

"And this year, I'm going to be the strongest wolf of them all." Diavolo holds his gaze firm as he stares at you, his resolve nowhere near cracking. "You and I both know that I have what it takes to defeat the Victor. And even if I don't, I can defend myself better this year."

You stay quiet for a moment.

Internally, your brain is running at top speed. Weighing the pros and cons of letting Diavolo go alone. Trying to gauge the potential risk he might face. Figuring out how likely he is to get injured, and whether those injuries will need immediate treatment or not.

"Please," Diavolo mumbles quietly. "I know it must have been scary for you to have that nightmare, but it was just as awful to have you in my arms and shivering in fear, all without being able to do anything. I don't…If we can avoid that, I want us to do it. At all costs."

"Even at the price of me not being able to celebrate your victory with you?" You mumble quietly, trying to detect the faintest trace of hesitation in Diavolo's eyes.

"Yes." His answer is swift and immediate. "The second I leave the cage, win or lose, I will come here." Diavolo intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hands to his lips. "And then we can celebrate together."

"You're awfully confident," You laugh lightly, already beginning to forget your dream in lieu of Diavolo's charms.

"Only because you trained me yourself," Diavolo grins cheekily, kissing your hand once more. "And because I already know how beautiful your smile will be when I tell you that I've won."

Convincing you to stay behind was the right decision.

Diavolo fights back the sick feeling that emerges in his stomach every time he glances at the pile of bodies that has been crammed unceremoniously into the corner of the prep room, just beyond the sight of the spectators but practically in perfect lighting for all fighters to see.

Thus far, there have been eight deaths. Three demons are expected to be dead within the hour (though a medical expert said that if they survive this hour, they'll make full recoveries), and two more seem to have lost their pulses but not their souls.

None of this has been at Diavolo's own hand, of course.

It's almost entirely been the work of the Victor.

Diavolo swallows nervously as he remembers snapshots of the fights he's watched. The Victor seems more unhinged this year than the last, and his combat style has been wholly erratic. Where he had some semblance of control in previous seasons, he seemed to care for nothing today as he swung his opponents around, thrusting them throughout the cage and giving them little chance to surrender, even if they wanted to.

Yeah, Diavolo thinks. Definitely a good idea to convince her to stay back.

He shudders, remembering how desperately you had cried his name during your nightmare. How he had shaken your shoulders but had been powerless to wake you. How, even after you awoke, he was hardly able to console you, only pulling you away from your memories of the dream with distractions.

If you were disturbed enough to have nightmares from the things you'd seen before, today's battles would send you to an entirely new realm of night terrors.

Diavolo has to try his hardest to push the memories out of his mind, continuing to change into his shirt. The last one had been ripped during combat—so the runners gave him something else. It barely fits, tight around Diavolo's chest but loose around his midsection, but the demon hardly minds.

After all, there's only one fight left.

He leans his neck from side to side, stretching the stiffness out as he prepares to enter, listening quietly to the growing noise around him. The break that took place right after the last match—held so that all spectators would wrap up any last-minute business to watch the final free of disruptions—finished five minutes ago. Diavolo isn't sure what the holdup is, but he's not going to let the delay shake him from his preparedness.

As such, he's entirely ready when, not four minutes later, he hears his title being announced through a microphone, his name booming through the room as he pulls his mask higher on his face and steps forward.

He enters the cage to the sound of restrained applause.

Diavolo's the underdog, he knows. The people who cheer for him cheer out of politeness, out of courtesy. No one expects the defending Victor to have his title stripped from him. Not when he's held the title for so long. Not when people are so used to seeing him defeat everyone who stands in his path. Not when it's public knowledge that Diavolo was practically obliterated by him last season.

The roars that erupt from the crowds the moment the Victor enters the cage from the other end are a reminder of who the expected winner is. Diavolo can already see the cruel glint in his opponent's eye, the calculated method the demon is planning on using to secure the final win.

But Diavolo has no plans of giving him the chance.

The moment the bell rings and the match has begun, he has already ducked low, prepared for the way the Victor's fist swings forward.

And then there's truly nothing but a flurry of fists, feet, and pain.

Diavolo holds his hands high as he retains his combat stance, never sacrificing his form even when he sees the rare openings in the Victor's movements. He approaches the fight the same way he would approach training with you: minimal offense, maximum defense. His goal is to tire his opponent out before he strikes, twisting the odds ever in his favor.

The Victor seems to have an inexhaustible source of energy, though. And while you were absolutely right when you said that you were stronger than him, the fact is that this demon is bigger than you, and Diavolo has to account for that every time he steps back to avoid a punch.

Curses, the demon thinks the moment he finds himself backed into a corner. His eyes widen momentarily, panic and raw, primal instincts taking over, and Diavolo closes his eyes as he lowers his head, thrusting all his weight into a single punch.

He makes contact.

Everyone's eyes seem to widen at the same time. It's the first decent hit someone has gotten in on the Victor all night. But while Diavolo was confident that he'd eventually be able to begin his offense, he never expected that such a poorly executed attack would make contact.

He could have dodged that easily, Diavolo thinks to himself, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

But then a sudden realization strikes him.

You could have dodged that easily.

But the Victor is too big to evade like you.

And the demon grins. Because if the Victor's defense is weaker than yours, then Diavolo knows he has this fight locked down.

He begins attacking his opponent with renewed purpose, and he can almost feel the shift in the room as the crowd slowly begins to realize just how strong Diavolo truly is.

It only emboldens him.

Within seconds, it looks like he and the Victor are going toe to toe with each other, both men getting in an equal amount of kicks and having to dodge the same number of punches. But Diavolo can feel his competitor's defense crumbling under the nonstop barrage of assaults. It starts with a fingernail just grazing his shoulder, then a stray punch landing on the demon's abdomen, and then Diavolo has managed to deliver a swift kick to the Victor's stomach, sending him flying back.

The Victor jumps back up within seconds, but the damage is already done. The crowd is murmuring now, and tension settles over the room.

But Diavolo can feel the tides of the fight. And they wave in his favor.

"Do you remember the last time we fought?" He hisses, glaring at the Victor even as they continue to spar. "You—" Diavolo grunts, trying to land a kick, though it's deflected by his opponent's arm. "Shattered my ribs—" Diavolo dodges an uppercut. "Bashed my head against the ground—" He throws a punch, and it catches the Victor square in the jaw. "Stood on top of me—" Both men kick. Their legs cross, both deflected. "And when I wanted to surrender," Diavolo practically spit the word, grabbing the Victor's collar and throwing him backward. "You broke my arm so I wouldn't be able to."

Diavolo's gaze darkens as he draws closer to the Victor, making use of the fact that his opponent is now backed against the wall. The roles are reversed as they stand, this time, but Diavolo doesn't make the same mistake as the Victor. He continues to throw punches, refusing to let up even as his competitor fights back, wincing only briefly when the demon lands a hit to his jaw.

Diavolo spits blood onto the ground, wiping his mouth.

Careless, he thinks. I'm getting careless.

But while that thought should stir Diavolo back into action, it only pulls the redhead deeper into his own mind, obsessed with thoughts of strategy and technique.

The Victor sees the moment of distraction.

He lunges forward, making a grab for Diavolo's throat. It's an attempt to tackle him to the ground, to thrust his head against the iron cage and beat him to death.

It's a move that will end the fight, should he succeed.

Diavolo's eyes widen when he realizes his predicament: his utter lack of defense as the Victor all but flies toward him, and for the second time in this fight, he lets his body's autopilot take over, legs moving faster than his mind could ever tell them to.

Diavolo forces his eyes to stay open as his leg swings upward and then clamps down, hitting the Victor straight on the head as the force thrusts the demon to the floor, where Diavolo stands over him.

The opponent's eyes widen instantly, and Diavolo seizes the moment, wasting no time in forcing the Victor to roll over before pressing his foot against the man's throat, standing over him.

It's one of the first moves you taught him.

And he executed it perfectly.

The look in Diavolo's eyes is nothing but menacing as he towers over his competitor, eyes blazing.

All around him, the crowd cheers. Masked watchers stand to get a better view of what is doubtlessly a defining moment of the fight, but no one can hear the words Diavolo speaks to the Victor.

"I will not kill you," The redhead warns sharply. But he continues to balance one foot on the Victor's neck and uses his other foot to step on the demon's stomach, Diavolo using his own body weight to force the Victor to stay on the ground. "I will not give you the privilege of escaping this fight by death."

Diavolo glares at the man beneath him. "Nor will I break a single bone of yours."

Diavolo presses down harder on the demon's neck until he can hear the quiet wheezes of the Victor.

"You will surrender to me now, or you will suffer for hours on end like this until you're ready."

And indeed, Diavolo has that luxury.

The Victor is in an inescapable position, weighed down by an opponent too heavy to throw off, his neck open and vulnerable. Every time his fingers twitch, Diavolo presses down a little harder on his neck, eyes bright with the promise of pain.

“Surrender,” Diavolo demands.

And for the first time, his eyes take on those of a king's.

His words are not spoken as a cage fighter urging another to end this fight. They are a command, spoken so icily that the Victor can sense the unspoken threat that underlines them.

Diavolo watches with unwavering eyes as the Victor braces himself before lifting his left hand, four fingers extended in the telltale symbol of surrender.

The crowd goes wild.

Diavolo can hardly hear the sound of the bell ringing as the audience screams in shock, elation, and confusion as they realize that this season has borne a new Victor, usurping the old. In fact, the redhead can barely hear his competitor's words of shame as the demon hangs his head while the crowd continues to whoop and cheer, and Diavolo abruptly thinks that you must be able to hear this noise from your location on the cliffside.

But then there's another sound.

And this one is coming from inside his head.

My son.

Diavolo flinches on instinct, eyes widening as he gazes around to check if anyone has noticed the magic. They're all too preoccupied with their cheering, though, but it unnerves Diavolo.

Raise your fist, my son. Let them bow to you.

The demon realizes abruptly that his father must be in this room. That his father is here, in this arena, just like Barbatos was, three nights ago. Diavolo's eyes fly everywhere that he can see, searching for the hulking frame of the true leader of the Resistance.

But amid the sea of masks, he finds nothing.

What are you waiting for? Do it now, before their cheers die out.

Diavolo gives up his search for his father, opting instead to heed the demon's demands. He raises a fist, slow and steady, to the sky. It's the mark of a Victor: only the strongest may assume this pose, and all before them must bow in submission as an acknowledgment of their power.

It's an awe-inspiring experience.

Diavolo watches with wary eyes as the (ex) Victor next to him bows first, the demon's head touching the ground. Then the first row of demons in the audience halt their cheering to drop to the floor; then the second; the third; the fourth—until every demon in the room is bowing to Diavolo, head lowered in loyal submission.

All except one.

Diavolo almost lets out a cry of surprise when he sees his father standing directly ahead, in the very midst of all the other spectators.

"My friends," The man announces in that booming voice of his. Everyone stares at him in surprise, confused as to why he isn't bowing. "You may rise."

All heads turn to Diavolo for reassurance, no one willing to withdraw from their bowed positions without explicit assent from their strongest, their protector, their Victor.

Diavolo nods his head quietly, and one by one, they begin to rise.

And then the magic begins.

Diavolo watches as his father takes to the air, robes flying up around him as the room gasps in shock at the use of magic.

"S-Sir!" Someone shouts. "It's—it's forbidden—if the imperial palace sees you using—using—"

Diavolo winces. The palace has driven such fear into the peoples' hearts that they can't even say the word magic.

"The imperial palace is our concern no longer," Diavolo's father responds smoothly once he's in the center of the room, floating to where all may see him. The man reaches behind his head, removing the elegant mask which had covered his face, and another collective gasp goes around the room—for removing one's mask breaks the single most important tradition of cage fighting.

"It is my pleasure to meet you," He announces, arms crossed proudly. "I am the leader of the Resistance, the rebel faction that is seeking to usurp the current crown."

The demon gestures downward.

"And the new Victor you have before you is my son."

Everything else that his father says is textbook. It's the same exact speech that he uses whenever he wants to bring people over to the Resistance. It starts with a list of the imperial palace's wrongdoings, goes on to explain how the oppression of the people has only worsened through the past hundred millennia, includes a few impassioned "We will not stand for this!" statements here and there, but it always ends the same way.

In cheers.

Diavolo's gaze is level when the sound of cries surrounds him once more, every soul in the room raising their own fists at the encouragement of his father, ready to defy the crown.

"It's time for the royal family to answer for their crimes!"

Hurrahs and whoops.

"It's time to restore balance to the Devildom!"

Shouts of agreement.

"It's time to usher in a new royal family—one chosen by the people!!"

Screams of approval.

Diavolo waits until his father is done speaking, used to every thought-out line in this speech. But then, right at the end, where the crowd is supposed to descend into cheers and every soul in the room is supposed to pledge loyalty to the Resistance and to Rebellion, his Father goes off-script.

"And now," The future demon king practically roars, and Diavolo looks up in confusion. Doesn't it end there? "The time has at last come for our Rebellion to venture out of the shadows and into the open!"

What?

"We have prepared for this moment for millennia! With the powers of foresight, power, and magic in our hands, the time has never been better for the people of the Devildom to take back what is rightfully ours!! To take back our rights! Our happiness! Our freedom!"

I've never heard this part before.

"The time is ripe, everything has at last aligned! Our Rebellion is no longer a process in the works, my friends, it can at last begin!"

Wait…

"The thousands of members of the Resistance are loyal to me! Every soul in this room recognizes my son as the strongest! And now, with these forces combined, the power harnessed in my faction and your strength as those who are honor-bound to follow my son, we have everything we need!"

No. This can't be. Father can't do this. Father won't do this.

"Tonight, the moon fell from the sky and closed its eyes to a broken nation! A shadow of its former glory! A miserable Devildom, more pitiful than it ever has been! But tomorrow, when the moon rises in the sky to gaze down at us once more, let it look upon a new world! A Devildom ruled by the good! The people! Us!"

"Father," Diavolo mumbles, numb with shock. But his voice is a whisper next to the roars of approval from all around them.

"Our Rebellion begins tomorrow, and with it, we shall burn everyone in the palace who has ever wronged us!"

Those words throw the crowd over the edge, and Diavolo's father raises his fist in response, the overwhelming support coming in the shape of shouts, whoops, cheers, and applause. The demon fills the room with magic, a forbidden hum that only further frenzies those in this room after it has been banned for so long, and Diavolo nearly shudders under its intensity, for it is more powerful than anything he has ever felt.

Diavolo.

The voice is small, almost quiet. Soft enough that no one else can notice it, but Diavolo looks at his father instantly.

"You didn't tell me Rebellion would come this soon," The demon blurts instantly, still slightly in shock.

Rebellion's arrival was dependent on when we would be able to harness the power of the underground. Timing was a coincidence.

"You knew," Diavolo mumbles, his breath shaky. "You knew I wouldn't fight if I—"

I did what I had to for the greater good.

"No, you lied to me, Father. You lied to me, and you used me, and—"

Go, Diavolo.

The demon blinks up at his father, looking almost stupid in his momentary confusion.

Go to your princess, and spend the four hours you have left in her arms. But do not try to stop the inevitable. You know as well as I do that the wheels of Rebellion have already begun to move—and I will send Barbatos to infiltrate the palace with you at the break of dawn. Say your goodbyes tonight, for it is the final night you shall have.

"Father, this doesn't change the fact that—"

Listen to me, Diavolo. If you do not want to spend your life regretting this, leave now.

"But—"

Go.

Diavolo doesn't wait any longer at that, spinning on his heel as he all but sprints out of the cage. The demon doesn't bother trying to contact anyone, doesn't bother changing out of the clothes that are drenched in sweat and blood, doesn't bother acknowledging anyone who bows to him as he passes.

He has only one goal in mind: to find you.

And to save you.

He transforms into his demon form the second he's outside, blending into the darkness as his wings carry him to your location within minutes. He drops himself in the swamp outside the cliffside so as to not scare you, but he's so desperate that he bursts out of it all the same, sprinting in your direction as you widen your eyes at him.

"Diavolo!" You shout, grinning that beautiful smile that he would appreciate so much more if he hadn't just learned that Rebellion will begin tomorrow. "How did it go?" Your eyebrows furrow the moment you see him. "Why are you running? Darling? You're still in your training clothes, do you know tha—"

Diavolo barrels straight into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he all but clings to your figure.

"Diavolo?" You ask gently, running a hand through his hair. A wave of sympathy washes through your body, seeping into Diavolo's own. "Don't feel bad. There's always the next season, and—"

"I won."

"Huh?"

"I won," The demon repeats, reluctantly unburying his head from your stomach, leaning back to look you earnestly in the eye. "But we have to get out of here."

"What?" You repeat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Diavolo, you're not making any sense."

"Please," The redhead blurts, grabbing your hand. "We have to go. Now. I can explain...later. But we have to get as far away as possible right now, so please—"

"Diavolo," You mumble, pulling him into a serene kiss. Your disposition is nothing but calm and soothing.

Of course, Diavolo thinks bitterly. It's not like she knows that she's going to die tomorrow.

"Tell me what's wrong," You mumble quietly. "Slowly. Take your time."

"I…" Can't.

Diavolo stares at the ground, knowing all too well that if he tells you the truth—that he's part of a Resistance faction that's about to throw a coup tomorrow in an attempt to usurp and kill you alongside your entire family—you're not going to go with him. And if you attempt to head out onto the streets without him, your naive trust in the world will end in nothing but death. Only death, if you're lucky. But Diavolo knows you won't be.

"Please," He pleads dumbly, not knowing what else to say. He tries to come up with a lie. He tries so hard. But for the first time, he comes up with nothing. As if he's already told you so many lies that his brain refuses to supply him with any more, as punishment for his actions from months ago.

"Please, just believe me. We have to go. Right now. You're going to get hurt otherwise."

"Diavolo," You chuckle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Your demeanor is still light and casual, not understanding the true gravity of the situation. "Whoever threatened you, I'm sure it will be fine. I can handle myself. And even if I can't, I have you to protect me, don't I?"

Diavolo swears his heart breaks a little at that.

"I love you," He mumbles, gripping your arm. The words are fast and clumsy, hardly romantic—but Diavolo fears he may never get to say them to you if he doesn't tell you the words now. He curses his past self for not saying the words earlier. For lying to you, to himself, and to the world in a pathetic attempt to be loyal to a Rebellion he no longer cares about. "I love you so much. And it hurts so much to love you this much—but I will always love you. No matter what. Please, you believe me, right?"

The demon tenses his grip around your arm, his eyes desperate.

"Diavolo," You whisper softly, pulling him into a hug. "I love you too. Just as much, I'm positive. But whatever has you so worked up is going to be fine, alright?" You press a chaste kiss to his lips, letting your lips linger until you can feel the way the tension has melted from Diavolo's muscles.

"If you love me," He mumbles, and Diavolo feels sick for resorting to this, but he doesn't know any other way to convince you. "If you love me, then you'll listen to me. Please. We have to leave right now." A faint light sparks in his eyes. "We can...we can run away together. And get married. And we can have a big house on an island—any island you want, as long as it's uninhabited. I'll—I'll even build you the house. And we can have children—unless you don't want children. And—and we can—we can—we can—"

Diavolo's eyes light up, imagining a future with you where the two of you get to grow old together, happy until the end of your days.

"We can do all that later," You whisper, embracing Diavolo. The demon realizes that he's shaking. "But for now, let's just get you back to normal, alright?"

"No," Diavolo mumbles weakly. "No please, if we wait, it's going to be too late."

And indeed, he means those words not in the context of Rebellion but in the frame of his own mind. Because the moment he begins thinking about the greater good and the fact that running away with you will doubtlessly doom the Devildom, he'll realize that he has to go through with Rebellion, no matter how much he doesn't want to.

"We have to go. Please, if I tell you why, then you won't come. We need to move now—before—before I change my mind and do something stupid—"

"Shh," You mumble, quieting him. "Close your eyes, darling," You mumble, pressing a kiss to Diavolo's lips. "Relax."

You pull your arms around him and he sobs freely into your arms, clinging to your figure like it's a lifeline as he realizes that he failed. That you're not going to run away with him. That the picture of the two of you, old and happy, holding hands on a beautiful island with no one to disturb you, was nothing more than a stupid dream.

The worst part is that he can't even continue his attempt to convince you. Because he knows it's wrong. That Rebellion is what the Devildom needs. And that Diavolo will be a monster for standing in the way of that.

But won't he still be a monster if he kills you?

"I don't want..." To watch you die, Diavolo wants to say, pulling you close so that he can memorize the warmth of your embrace, the shape of your body, the little details he can savor tonight but never again.

"Shhh, close your eyes, darling. Everything's going to be okay." You kiss him. "I promise."

He lets out a sob, clutching your figure in silent apology as he heeds your instructions and savors these moments of peace, for they will be the last. But as he shuts his eyes and tries to focus on the sensation of your arms around him, warm and loving, all he can imagine is the sight of your body in chains beneath him, the whole world watching as he kills you.

MASTERLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | ✔

Word count: 11.1k

Notes: In my original draft of this fic, Diavolo never gives MC his real name. He calls himself "Brutus," tossing her the name of a character he heard Barbatos talk about once, not really knowing the context of it. At that time, the fic title was going to be The Tragedy of Julius Caesar.

Comment & Like

Next Update: 8/13/20

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

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yourplayersaidwhat · 5 years ago

Text

For context, in a pokemon style rpg, we were trying to enter a city that forbid access to trainers (we found out it was controlled by an evil organization). We eventually got caught and I acted like I didn’t know the others. While we were being interrogated, we tried to make cover stories. This happened :

Policeman : So what are you doing here ?

Player A : I am a fellow trainer from Kalos. I was on vacation, trying to enjoy the city, when my newfound friend and I got arrested ! This is outrageous !

Policeman : A trainer, you say ? Send him to the jail, boys. (looking towards player B) What about you, what are you doing here ?

Player B : Oh, you know, just enjoying life, visiting city after city.

Policeman : You’re just homeless, right ?

Me : Definitely sounds like she is.

Policeman (looking at me) : On to you. You say you don’t know them, so what are you doing here ?

Me : I’m a researcher !

Policeman : And what are you researching ?

Me : Er… (5 second pause) Game theory !

Everybody bursts out laughing at my inability to talk.

DM : You’re gonna need a good roll for that, buddy.

For information, we’re playing with d100, so getting a critical success is harder, you need to roll 01 or 02.

I rolled a 01.

Policeman : I see, can you tell me a little bit more about that ?

Me (OOC) : You should never have said that to the party’s math boi.

Me : Game theory is about the mathematical study of interactions between rational decision makers. To clarify what this means, let’s take a famous example, the Prisoner’s dilemma. Imagine two criminals, caught by the police… Actually, can I get a whiteboard and a dry-erase marker ? And can you untie me, please ?

DM : You’ll need another roll for that, but because of your last roll, I’ll allow critical success with 05 and under.

I rolled 04.

DM : I immensely regret doing that. You’re totally untied, and escorted to their presentation room. Time for a math lesson, I guess…

So I took 10 to 15 minutes to explain Game theory, both in and out of rp, and nobody could say anything because of my two critical successes. I ended up being forcibly hired into the evil organization’s research group, and stayed there for like 5 hours of playing. I was so useful to them that I ended up meeting the end boss and getting a promotion to head of research, before I was saved by player A. I got so rich that I ended up buying a camping car for the whole party to sleep in.

#shit my players say #rpg #submission #long post #shareable #diplomancy

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neo-shitty · 3 years ago

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toffee!

ah yeah, i think quarentine has given people some opportunity to actually just sit with the person they are, rather than be rushing around for the person they want to become. its good you got smth good out of isolation! ah thats great! hope you had fun and ur partner in crime speeds back home so you can get out more hehe.

ah yeah ty, good suggestions.

hmm good point, i was sort of putting it separate to the whole not-sexualising thing, but yeah. mmm yeah i totally agree, some of the enhypen fics/imagines *shudder* and even reading innie stuff is just a bit *icky* cos everyone still thinks of him as our agi ppang. yeah def would be good but sadly this just seems to be the world we live in. :(

ah yes the holy masterlist (not sarc) i have actually read in the rain and gladius maximus before, but ill go look for in class! oooh thats good! character development lol. hmmmm yes champagne problems was the angst to end all angst, that shit hurt. it was actually one of the first of your fics i read and i recall almost crying over the whole thing, it was so heartbreaking, i can see how it almost made you want to drop angst. good that youve allowed yourself some lee-way tho :)

hehe thats so cool. okay here we go, ill try not to be mortally offended (/hj)

cheese - yes same, i liked it but that was all there was, it wasnt a super standout track. it was rlly underwhelming for me but some of the hook is super catchy so there is Redemption (tm) in store for cheese maybe

thunderous - mmm, yeah at first i totally agreed, i think they suffer from too much good music syndrome, that all their other tracks are such fucking bops its hard to stay at that level of perfection. the choreo was beautiful tho and tbh, the track has grown on me since ive been watching all the vids abt it. its my brothers favourite track

domino - YES GODAMMIT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE TITLE TRACK. the raps, the vocals, the vibes, the fucking domino sound in the back? i would have streamed that shit on repeat. but tbh, as good as it is, it doesnt have that sort of grandness/oomph that skz seems to like in their title tracks so i can see why they chose thunderous (tho domino would have been so good) *sigh*

ssick - yeah same, not my fave track by a long mile, the crowd cheering was a ?strange? choice and the chorus was a bit bare/empty, plus like i mentioned earlier, it was kinda funny to me for some reason but ill still play it if im playing thru the whole album

the view - ahh one of those not like other girls (/j) i honestly think its just a good party song, just a bop to play in the background when nobodys rlly paying much attention. its pretty generic pop music but catchy

sorry, i love you - hehe yeah i thought it was going to be sadder as well, but i rlly loved the fact that they all just got to sing, which almost never happens, i dont think ive heard felix sing for a long time, so i enjoyed it. wasnt rlly a standout track but i just casually like it. looking forward to the fic haha

silent cry - this song i swear, some bits are rlly good and then others are just? why?? it does sound like a dance song tho idk. definitely not one of my faves either

secret secret - YES its so good! its such a chill song and i love their vocals in it. the combination of lo-fi/fake strings backup stuff and their heavenly vocals just makes it *chefs kiss* im listening to it rn and just... its so beautiful. it gives me pumped up another day vibes ya know? like my pace is edgy get cool, this one is energetic another day i feel like. overall i love it

STAR LOST - ah thats so cool! i didnt know that! on first listen this song had a similar vibe to secret secret but then the beat came in and ahh its such a good song. i can totally imagine them putting this song to a concert footage vid, this song is so sweet.

red lights - LMAO YES ITS SO AWKWARD WHY DOES IT GO ON FOR SO LONG ah thats good! yeah good point, its quite intense hehe. but that is my fave trope and this is lowkey my favourite track on the album so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just the combination of hyunjins and chans voices, the backing music, the lyrics ahh red lights my beloved

surfin’ - yes lmao its always a shock, i feel like they should have put gone away in between them, but its such a fun cute song, i cant get rlly mad. yeah, as an aussie i think im contractually obligated to like beaches lol. sand im not such a fan of, but my familys rlly into fishing and my brother loves bodyboarding so we stay at a beach house at least twice a year and we live like 5 mins from 3 different beaches (hehe all aussie cities are on the coast lol) so thats cool. do you like beaches?

gone away - ah gone away my beloved, i love this song sm, its just so pure and showcases their vocals and lyrics so well. yes the pitch change is very out of the blue, i feel liek they went directly from seungmins soft vocals to hans powerful ones which was an interesting choice, but hey, im not complaining

wolfgang - YES IKR ah im so happy he got to be included in that era and song. yeah its such a full on song i cant rlly listen to it if im in a quiet mood but its very motivating :)

hehe mood, i hope they do! ahhh no rest, but at least you wont have to pull a blink and wait a year for any word from the group lol. im not rlly into nct but im excited for them! ah hopefully youll be able to sneak some rest into that chaotic schedule, with enhypen (idk if u stan but yeah) squeezed into it haha

<3 w.a. 🐺

i wheezed at partner in crime, it reminded me of smth. i have a lee know fic in the drafts that i wrote 'in honor' of him (and his departure-ish). i'll tag you when i finish it, if you want. it's a rather hilarious one.

oh my god. based on my experience on the collabs i've joined before, writing explicit shit for '01 & '02 is not accepted (nct's maknaes) but with enha's hyung line '01 & '02 somehow it's okay? i do a double take every time i see fics like those i mean, technically, it's legal but still what the fuck. maybe it's just not for me at the moment. not at us venting our frustration about this. it's just something that's so accepted here that i am (in all honesty) slightly uncomfortable about. but oh well. that's kpop writerblr for you.

man i could've linked all the fics in the ask instead so you wouldn't have to go looking for them! i think i saw you like in class the other day (the fic i renamed into sharp-tongued, god it took me a while to remember the new title). describing champagne problems as an angst to end all angst is one way to put what i was feeling back in december. it just hurt to write and admit?? if that ever happened to me i would prolly cry :d

okay back to the album talk! i love how you answered with more thoughts. i love exchanges like these! i am a victim of the cheese hook and it's now one of my favorite tracks in the album. PLS, TOO MUCH GOOD MUSIC SYNDROME. that's on our self-producing kings 😌💅 also, your brother has taste! as i am typing this, domino's currently playing in my head and i realized that too, that it doesn't have that 'vibe' of a skz title track. honestly, this could be a title track of another group. ssick is starting to grown on me because i found the beats cool kdjsk not the not like other girls 😭 the view is the generic pop that i don't like but i get why a lot of people enjoy it. sorry i love you scratches a certain itch that i find myself singing the first few lines every time i remember it. i too would want to hear felix sing more!

> a mini junction on the album talk bc i got side tracked. on that topic, i want skz to switch positions at some point like i know those allrounders are capable of doing so. specifically, i want to hear seungmin rap!!!! (yk in the recent weekly idol he talked faster than changbin in a challenge and changbin is like the fastest rapper in kpop that's active atm if im not mistaken. my dandy boy has some potential and i want it UNLEASHED.)

back to album talk. silent cry is basically sad music to twerk to. secret secret is definitely one of my favorite tracks :( i loved how you compared the tracks HAJSAH i burst out laughing bc yk what, you're right! i want to make a star lost edit of skz but i simply do not have the time i want to cry. i love the song so much. ok, my dreaded track, red lights. idt i have played the track since we last talked. my friend sent me the lyrics tho and i'm itching to write a twisted au out of it. idk if you're comfortable with yandere but somewhere along those themes. the obsessive type of love that's sweet at first but turns rotten. IMAGINE IF THEY PUT GONE AWAY BETWEEN ASHJA it's like going from 50 shades to the notebook.

i was about to ask if you lived near the coast and you literally mentions it here god im so stupid. yes i LOOOOOOOOOVE beaches so much. living in an archipelago is fun :( i live in a part of the country that's more island than city so every time i want some vitamin sea it's accessible. i heard the waves in australia are great :( anYWHOOO gone away :(( every time it plays im compelled to skip it because it makes me sAD AND NOWADAYS I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO BE SAD. contrary to you, i dislike my quiet moods because i tend to overthink a lot.

i have this little analogy about how there are stays that enjoy songs the generic pop + mellow songs and then there are other stays that enjoy the noisy tracks. in my mind, it's like a perfect balance that makes me feel like all the tracks are loved in the end. just by different people.

PULL A BLINK. bro i fucking hate yg entertainment. they have the biggest kpop girl group LOCKED in their basement when they could be (and i mean this in the most business-like way not morally) milking money of the quad. they're yg's biggest hope at not being bankrupt atm so it's a damn fucking mystery to me as to how they aren't doing anything. (jk i just realized lisa solo album soon, but i still need a ot4 cb hELLO)

i stopped looking forward to the teasers. rest > kpop boys. i don't want to sound like a cult member but have you tried checking out nct? are they just not your thing? (i get it tho, that's one hard group to get into). and yes i do stan enhypen!

wow i love how long these asks are! they're like online penpals. but i also want to ask about you! how have you been lately? are you feeling okay both mentally and physically? how's the weather there? do you have anything that you want to talk about? maybe an interesting book you read? feel free to bring up anything you want to share! i'm getting conscious about talking about myself HAJHSJ

and yet another long answer B) i am sooo sorry T___T should these ask exchanges feel draining to you, feel free to stop sending them in AAAA

#toff.asks #wild anon 🐺

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

Text

Another Sunday, another episode of Digimon Adventure: (how tf do I do punctuate??). It is a good time to be a fan of Yagami Taichi.

I remember being 11 years old, the last episode of Digimon Adventure made be bawl my eyes out, and although I was excited for 02, really I just wanted more of Adventure. I guess I’m just slow to like new things (well, I am), but I would have super happy if the producers had been like, “02 will be a reboot for Adventure with the same characters and similar storyline.” And then do the same thing for every new Digimon season xD I’m sure I’m pretty damn alone in that opinion and don’t get me wrong, I love 02, and I think Tamers was good. And yet xD

^The screenshot that sums up the episode: Greymon gets his butt kicked while Taichi hangs on for dear life

I know the bond between children and Digimon is what powers them, and I’m kind of wondering if having a physical connection improves that in this show, because these kids are always riding around on their partners. (Not able exception - Togemon, because ouch. But I expect to see Mimi on her boxing glove at least lol) I have to rationalize it that way because otherwise it’s like why would having an elementary school kid on your head while you rush into the line of fire count as a battle strategy

This ep picks up pretty much where we left off, which means it’s probably only been hours since Yamato joined the group at the fortress. Already the atmosphere is completely changed.

I can see them, but they can’t see me... Ishida Yamato’s modus operandi

more below

Here is a very Digimon-esque tableau: everyone gathered around Koushirou and his computer. Yamato still being standoffish. I imagine he jumped at the chance to stand guard at the entrance so he doesn’t have to get too close to anyone.

Agumon’s fight with MetalTyrannomon went... not so great. Yamato coolly tries to explain to Taichi that evacuating was the only way, otherwise they’d risk all being destroyed, and that would be the end of everything.

Taichi’s fist tightens and begins to shake...

... he doesn’t look like he totally agrees with Yamato’s reasoning, but he doesn’t have a better idea. But, being Taichi, he can’t just let it rest.

Yamato talking to Taichi’s back while Taichi frantically starts to sort out his Feelings is just how they communicate. This is a common shonen anime trope for the hero and his foil. Yamato’s pushing, Taichi’s not exactly hiding, but he doesn’t want to face him until he can face him with resolve.

Yamato: Look at me. Look at me!

Taichi: *sweating* It feels like a hole’s burning in the back of my neck, so... I’ll pass

Taichi finally explains out what’s got him so knotted up: he regrets Ogremon’s death. Like we saw last episode, the battle that began as revenge turned into a battle of samurai pride. And Taichi is evidently a samurai. He wanted to see that battle to the finish, out of mutual respect for the opponent (who he’d never met before and who had been trying to kill him previously... but y’know when you’re kindred spirits that’s all water under the bridge)

Yamato doesn’t really get it. This is where these two are fundamentally different. Taichi attac, Yamato protec, then everybody gets a FIGHT!

I mean, not 100% of the time, but the bottom line is Yamato’s not so big on this pride thing, although he does have pride of his own. But he’s definitely not into taking unnecessary risks, especially if it puts his friends in danger. The trouble is, Taichi doesn’t think he takes unneccessary risks either... just necessary ones ;)

The other kids can already feel the tension increasing and Taichi and Yamato haven’t even raised their voices at each other yet. Lol buckle up kiddos

Jou wonders if he should make them stop, and Mimi instantly turns around and begs him to try. My Joumi heart LEAPT.

TBH I was surprised she did anything at all, I was expecting Jou’s “Should I break them up?” to just end there with nothing happening. Instead we got an adorable Joumi moment where Mimi shows that as much as she teases him, she already somewhat relies on Jou (to be fair, I do think Mimi’s the type to rely on anyone who offers when she’s not sure what to do herself). Jou, being Jou, is unprepared aaaaand wigs out.

Jou: Oh no oh no oh no she actually expects me to get between them?!?! But but I flunked Tough Guy school! That’s literally why I’m a nerd! This girl’s trying to throw me to the wolves!

Fortunately for Jou, he has a redheaded savior.

Sora: Stop it. He’ll wet his pants again and I don’t have any more extras.

Sora shows her insight into people’s hearts and understands that Taichi and Yamato need to hash things out. It’s not dangerous... yet. But the way she’s more or less frozen in place along with the others says she’s... maybe a bit on her guard, at least, lol.

Koushirou, being Kousihrou, is completely oblivious to all of this and focused on his computer.

Oh yeah... the real reason Taichi turned his back to Yamato earlier - whenever they look directly at each other, they suck each others souls out. I CALL BODY SWITCH

I mean jogress

I mean marriage

They spend like the entire first half of the episode arguing omg get a room.

Then... Agumon wakes up!

And even though it’s a cartoon, it’s clear to see the way Taichi’s body fills with relief. I wonder if Yamato didn’t realize or didn’t think Taichi was that worried about Agumon. 99 Yamato tended to feel that Taichi was insensitive to others. But while he can be, Taichi also doesn’t express his emotions in the same way as Yamato. They’re both wont to hide how they feel, but while Yamato goes quiet and aloof, Taichi just acts like everything’s normal. So maybe here, Yamato really thought Ogremon and MetalTyrannomon were the only things on Taichi’s mind. Just a guess.

Awwww montage of cute...

a boy and his dinosaur!!

Maybe to Yamato’s surprise, Agumon totally echoes Taichi’s feelings about Ogremon. “I wanted to settle the score with him.” Weird as it sounds, they made a manly bond with Ogremon and running away just doesn’t sit right. Agumon’s raring to go...

... but his stomach isn’t quite ready yet hahaha.

Yamato’s probably used to Gabumon’s appetie but I suspect Agumon’s tummy growl has errr exceptional resonance

Glad to see the return of the Digimon’s bottomless pit aka stomach. I think it was just last week I complained about that not really being a thing so far. This time it was the other Digimon who went gathering, but I hope to see the human kids rushing around in a frenzy to care for their partners’ appetites soon lol

While the others eat, Taichi and Yamato decide they haven’t finished vampiring each other’s souls and sneak out to the mouth of the cave. Sora follows them to see if she can watch any hot yaoi action.

Lol but I do really like the framing heart. All we can see of the boys is their shadows. Sora keeps her distance but she’s watching them intently from a distance. I assumed she was just gathering more data on how short a leash she needs to keep them on.

Turned out that was not quite correct... reluctant to interrupt though she’d been before, once they start talking about what to do next she adds her input. We’ve got Yamato on Taichi’s one side and Sora on his other side. It’s the beginnings of TAIORATOOOOO *more airhorns*

^I can’t see anything but Goku and Vegeta bahahaha. Also why is eleven-year-old Yamato SO broad-shouldered, between that, his deeper voice, and his perfeclty coifed hair Taichi must seem like a toddling infant to him bahahaha. Like come on Yamato is not a child you must be kidding

Already Yamato is getting into the habit of Looking At Taichi while Taichi Looks At Literally Anything Else.

These two don’t need words. They talk with their vampiric eyes.

Koushirou’s hyper focus on his computer finally pays off and they all gather back around. Everyone starts cheering when the hologram appears even though they don’t know what the heck it is. This is Koushirou, so it must be awesome!

It turns out to be a map of much usefulness.

And it turns out Ogremon was telling the truth about the path to the holy Digimon being straight ahead, while fires Taichi up even more.

^Obligatory ‘Gomamon is cutest Digimon’ cap

Koushirou also gives Taichi special data on MetalTyrannomon, including his weak point. Taichi is THRILLED. He’s happier about this than he is about finding the route to the holy Digimon. This is the difference between Taishiro and Taito guys. When Taichi gets a reckless idea, Yamato tries to talk him down, or at least be sensible about it. Koushirou? Koushirou is a FREAKING ENABLER.

They wait with baited breath for Yamato’s reaction. Though he seems underwhelmed, Yamato admits Koushirou’s information “does seem reliable.” That’s all the permission Taichi needs to go back to freaking out over how awesome Koushirou is.

They come up with a plan to lure MetalTyrannomon away so Taichi can fight him while the others take the chance to escape and head towards the path to the holy Digimon.

^Obligatory ‘Sora is best girl’ cap

Yamato waits for the others to get away before following after... he stalls for a minute as if unsure whether it’s really alright to leave Taichi on his own. In the end he joins the group... All things considered, I think he’s pretty thrown off by Taichi, tbh.

Yamato’s group doesn’t make it far before they encounter a very suspicious looking lake.

^More evidence that Yamato is not really an elementar school kids. He’s clearly at least 15. He’s been routinely failing every year in order to get held back until he can be in the same class as Takeru. That’s the extent of his overprotectiveness

It sure is fortunate that Koushirou’s genius extends to fluency in English or they’d have no idea this lake of dark mist is bad friggin news.

Or... maybe they would have:

Mimi sneaks behind Jou and pulls his middle school exam workbook out of his bag.

And immediately chucks it into the lake.

Where it disintegrates.

This is how Mimi’s mind works. She’s smart! They need to know what would happen if they went into the lake without actually going in it. So they need to put something else in first. So far so good. What should she throw? A stick? A rock? One of Sora’s endless towels?

No, Jou’s workbook. Duhhh.

She probably felt she was killing two birds with one stone here x’D Experiment complete, and Jou prevented from anymore whining about not having time to study. Mimi is chaotic good.

gosh I love Joumi

Jou is lawful neurotic

Greymon shielding Taichi is just soooo cute even if it still feels weird that he has to be up there in the first place

The battle rages between MetalTyrannomon and Greymon, who just won’t quit even though he’s losing... pretty bad... I mean...

He just grabbed a missile with his bare hand...

Taichi: Now I know what it’s like to be a firework

Loop-de-loop! Taichi’s suction cup shoes strike again.

Courage going UP!! Reaching a fever pitch! The evolution that’s been looming for two episodes finally happens!

MetalTyrannomon: Eat my dust!

Woooooooo, MetalGreymon is just as freaky as ever. Always my least favorite evolution in Agumon’s line, but the glowy purple wings are cool.

Also, nipple missiles.

MetalTyrannomon: I can’t believe I was beaten by some meddling kids!

So yeah, we are back to killing Digimon willy-nilly. None of this “but what about their hearts?” shitck. Always found it amazing in 02, a children’s cartoon, that said “Yeah the characters you loved last season were totes murderers but it was justified and sometimes you just have to kill.” And fourteen-year-old Taichi is just like, “Yeah, I’m a murderer, and you should be too.” XD And Miyako hits LadyDevimon with a skateboard. Priceless

This scene is adorable but Taichi’s butt looks so saggy.

I’m kind of wondering how evolution works in this show. They jumped right to jogress in like episode two or something, but we haven’t seen it since (I would sort of expected Taichi to think of it when it was clear MetalTyrannomon was too strong, though I would also expect Yamato to nix that idea both because he doesn’t want to and because to him it’s a pointless fight and not the priority). Since then, the Champion level evolutions went similar to 99 Adventure, with everyone getting their special episode, and I’m sure that’s how it’ll go down with the next level too, but there was no gap at all between going from one level to the next. I’m trying to say, they seem able to reach the next level awfully fast. They didn’t need to meet Gennai and collect the tags and Crests, the Crests appear already uploaded in their Digivices. I’m not complaining, as always I’m glad this show is not just a carbon copy of the old one, but I am curious if evolutions are easier to attain in this series, or if there are going to be more of them and that’s why they come so quick, or if the series just won’t run long enough for there to be significant gaps of time between evolutions.

Episode ends with the group deciding, like I predicted last week, to split up and try the Left and Right routes, since the Straight one is blocked. Gays go right and lesbians go left, of course. :P

This episode was pretty fantabulous, I loved it, Digimon is awesome.

Next week it’s no surprise what we’re gonna get.

WeeeeereGarurumon! Also my least favorite evolution of Gabumon’s line but still cooler than MetalGreymon hahahaha.

I’m also totally stoked for the grouping of Yamato, Jou, and Sora. There’s tons of potential for Yamato and Sora to bond, although my prediction is that while he’ll pretty much like her (even if he won’t admit it to himself), she’s going to find him a little difficult. But she’ll have an easier time talking to him than the others do. I also fully expect Jou to drive Yamato out of his mind lol.

This also means the other group is Taichi, Koushirou, and Mimi. I assume we won’t see too much of them next week, but I hope that means they’ll get their episode the week after, because I am dying for some Taishiro moments. Practically salivating. Also, Koumi fans can probably look forward to Mimi and Koushirou Not Getting each other too, lol

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon psi #digimon adventure reboot #psi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020

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notebooknebula · 4 years ago

Video

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The Power of your Own Expert Positioning Book with Max Keller

https://www.jayconner.com/the-power-of-your-own-expert-positioning-book-with-max-keller/

Real estate investing success isn’t just about selling houses. It’s about selling yourself… to sellers and lenders.

Imagine what your business would look like with a consistent stream of deals… all from motivated sellers and private lenders in your market who… see YOU as the Clear Choice!

In this episode Jay Conner talks to former math teacher turned real estate investor, Max Keller about how he stopped chasing leads and struggling to compete for deals by positioning himself as the “Trusted Expert” with his own book.

Max also shares how you can copy his strategy to Stand Out from the competition…even if you’re not a writer.

You definitely don’t want want to miss this.

Especially if you are investing in a market packed with flippers and wholesalers… all chasing the same motivated seller leads.

Real Estate Cashflow Conference:

https://www.jayconner.com/learnrealestate

Free Webinar:

http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

#RealEstate #PrivateMoney #FlipYourHouse

————————————————————

Jay Conner (00:00): Well, hello there! And welcome to another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I’m your host, Jay Conner also known as the Private Money Authority. And what do we do here on the show? Well, we talk all things real estate. We talk about how to find deals, how to fund deals, how to sell properties fast, how to automate your business. And we talk about all kinds of real estate. We talk about single family houses, commercial properties, multifamily, land deals, self storage, and you name it. We talk about it, but if you’ve been tuning into the show, since we launched back in 2018 you know, that I have amazing guests here on the show today is no exception, but before I introduce you to my special guest, what is it about private money? Why am I known as the Private Money Authority?

Jay Conner (01:02): Well, back when I started investing in single family houses back in 2003 here in Eastern North Carolina, the first six years, I’ve relied on local banks and mortgage companies to fund my deals. And I got cut off like the rest of the world did in January of 2009. It’s that time I was introduced and learned about private money. And since that time, and by the way, I’m not talking about hard money. I’m talking about private money doing business with individuals, human beings, borrowing money from their investment capital or their retirement accounts by using self directed IRAs. Well, since that time I’ve starting to use private money back in 2009, I have not missed out on a deal because I did not have the funding. You know, we can talk about terms and creative financing, all we want to, but at the end of the day, most sellers are going to require all the cash.

Jay Conner (01:56): And so when you got money sitting on the shelf, you don’t have to worry about missing out on deals and my special guest today, that’s going to be a big part of our topic to talk about today. And that’s private money, Again, before I introduce him while we’re on the topic of private money, I’ve got a free invitation and gift for all of my viewers and listeners. And that is I just launched what’s called The Private Money Academy membership. And I have got a free 30 days for you to take advantage of that and access. You get me twice a month, live with coaching and training and talking about private money and all aspects of real estate investing. And so if you’d like to check out the membership and come check it out for free for a full 30 days, you can get on over to www.JayConner.com/trial.

Jay Conner (03:00): Well today, my special guest is a very, very good friend. We’ve known each other for quite a while now. And I’ve invited him to come on the show today. And we’re going to be talking about Deals Chasing You ain’t that pretty cool. When the deals are chasing you, you’re not having to chase them. Or also, as I said, we’re going to be talking about private money. Well, as you probably know, when it comes to residential real estate, well, most success for real estate investors are gonna tell you that 80% of their time is focused on two things. In fact, these two things are the most common two questions that I get asked when I’m doing training. And that is Jay, how do I find deals? And how do I get my deals funded? Where do I find the deals? Where do I get the money?

Jay Conner (03:52): Well, it’s no secret. Motivated Seller Leads are yes, the life blood of your business. I tell my coaching students and clients all the time, unless you’ve got consistent deal flow, motivated sellers coming into your pipeline in your funnel all the time, every day, you are not in business. So, in addition to that, if you are investing in a highly competitive market with a lot of flippers and a lot of wholesalers, well, competition for the seller leads everybody’s just fighting over those leads. Well, that means that generating motivated seller leads is really the main major part of the equation. You see, you also got to convince those leads to choose you over doing business with your competition. Now, in addition to that, when it comes to raising private money, well, a lot of lenders, especially new private lenders, they can be concerned about picking the right real estate investor to do business with over the right deal. So the question is […] believe it or not, the man himself, Robert Kiyosaki.

Jay Conner (05:56): And my guest was presented with the 2019 industry innovator of the year award. In addition to that, he’s fueled by his passion for real estate, and he’s a, still a teacher at heart, right? He teaches he coaches. And today he’s going on my show to share a strategy that’s working right now in some of the most competitive real estate markets across the country. And this strategy is yes, transforming ordinary real estate investors into being a trusted expert in the eyes of motivated sellers. And, one of my favorite subjects and topics, private lenders. So with that, my good friend, Max Keller, welcome to the show.

Max Keller (06:45): Alright. Hey, glad to be here.

Jay Conner (06:48): Glad to have you Max, and tell everybody, where are you coming from today? Where do you hail from?

Max Keller (06:54): Yeah. Fort Worth, Texas. So, you know, in between Dallas and Fort Worth and starting to cool down and things are going well.

Jay Conner (07:03): Well, here’s where I want to start. We’re going to be talking about deals chasing you. We’re going to be talking about private money, but before we jump in Max, I want people to hear your story because you’ve got quite the fascinating story. I mean, you know, you had some of the same frustrations, challenges and obstacles that a lot of real estate investors, you know, have faced out there and that is looking for and chasing motivated sellers. And, you know, it’s something that all real estate investors at one time or another, particularly when they were starting out can relate to. So we want to hear your story. Tell us about from math teacher to becoming a trusted expert in this lucrative house buying business.

Max Keller (07:50): Sure! Yeah, awesome. So, you know so it’s it’s 2017, well like transport there and things are going okay. You know it’s, I flipped nearly a hundred houses and, you know, I’m making money, but I’m getting the feeling like, you know, I’m only as good as my next deal. I’m in a very competitive market, you know, the Dallas Fort Worth area. And I need a lot of leads to run my business. And if I don’t, you know, have leads for my business, then I don’t have any deals. So, you know, no deals, no business, you know, I’m going back to being a teacher. So I knew that, you know, leads were Motivated Seller Leads, especially with true motivation was the lifeblood of my business. And, you know, Jay in a, probably a two, three hour span or, or two, three years, I had tried nearly everything. You know, I had tried you know, different websites band-it signs. I tried, you know, cold calling.

Max Keller (08:50): I had people in the Philippines cold calling, you know, yellow letters. Every list that I could find. So I worked, you know, pre foreclosure, vacant properties, tax, the link went on and on and on. And, you know, all these things worked, but they were very unpredictable. And I felt like there was a lot of waste. And at the time it wasn’t deals chasing you, you know, that’s what happened now. It was the total opposite. I felt like I was chasing people. And so I wanted to fix this, I wanted to solve it. So, you know, it didn’t actually take very long to figure out what the problem was. You know, Jay, the problem was, is I was basically sending out the same messages and the same mail to all the motivated sellers on these lists that all the other investors, you know, were sending out to.

Max Keller (09:40): So I was basically, you know, another investor in the stack of mail. Sometimes they would pick me, you know, sometimes they wouldn’t and when they didn’t pick me, usually it was because it was either a newer investor that was overpaying, or maybe it was a hedge fund. And so, you know, I’m glad I didn’t get into that trap of paying too much for deals. Cause that’s definitely a way that you can go out of business quickly, but I needed to, you know, I need to buy deals and I needed to play the game in order to, you know, to win. And so I just kinda kept sending out more of the same thing that wasn’t working as well. And my return on my marketing investment just kept going down and just kinda kept getting lower. And so, you know, back then it felt like a total grind and I really didn’t feel like it was that sustainable.

Max Keller (10:29): And you know, the whole reason that I left teaching was because I wanted, you know, more than just a grind, I wanted to get more out of life. I wanted to do big things with my family. And so I kinda, I went on this quest to find a better way and I didn’t want to continue the way that I was going any further. And it took me on this really, really unexpected journey. What happened was, I made a list of all the deals that I had done up to that point. And I was looking for the deals that met these three conditions. So they were, the deals had to be profitable, they had to be the type where the seller didn’t resist my offer. So they were really open to what I was doing. It was, I was like the consultant. That’d be fun.

Max Keller (11:13): You know, I didn’t want to, this is my home buying company, save your home buyers. And, you know, I wanted to have fun. I wanted to help people and I wanted to make money. So there was kind of good and bad news. The good news was, I’ll go with the bad news first, the bad news was is that most of my deals that I had done up to that point did not meet all three criteria. The good news was, is that when I did see the few deals that met all three of those, they were all they all had the same pattern and it was, they weren’t just motivated sellers. They were senior homeowners. And so I went on this quest to find senior homeowners, something kind of unexpected happen again. And then that’s what, that’s how it turned into, you know, having a new tool for private money lenders too.

Max Keller (12:03): So if it’s okay with you, if we have time, let me break down what happened with the motivated sellers and then how it transitioned to this discovery I made in the private lending space. Is that okay with you?

Jay Conner (12:15): Sure. Please tell us about it.

Max Keller (12:17): Yeah. So essentially what happened was I was like, okay, these are the motivated sellers, cause you know, I mean, you know, this well as anybody Jay I mean, you have to have a deal in order to have a private money or hard money or money problem, you know, if you don’t have any deals, so it starts with the deal, so that’s what I was doing, I was starting with the deal. And I saw this group of folks, seniors that were awesome, you know, there, but so I was like, how do I get more of them?

Max Keller (12:44): So I go and look at what list they were on. And what I found was, is that they didn’t fit the typical motivated seller like buy box or category. So they weren’t you know, they weren’t in pre-foreclosure a lot of them didn’t even have mortgages, you know, it wasn’t a vacant house, It wasn’t a tired landlord. A lot of the houses actually were in good shape, they just needed like cosmetic updating. And so I was wholesaling these houses and flipping them for really good profits. And and I was like, okay, well, if I didn’t get them from a list, where did I get them? And I found that most of the folks actually came by accident, either they got my postcard by mistake, or I was trying to buy a house in the neighborhood or I was rehabbing a house in the neighborhood or referral.

Jay Conner (13:26): And I was like, okay, well how do I get more of these folks? now that I know who they are, and why are they most importantly, why are they picking me? So I called one of the sellers, it wasn’t actually the seller she’s in an assisted living facility, but I called her son because I remember this particular deal I had about, I had an offer out. There were other investors they were looking at and one of the investors made an offer that was like 10 grand, more than mine. So I, this was six months after the deal closed. They went with me and at the time I didn’t make a big deal of it, cause I didn’t want to blow the deal up. But after the fact I called up the son, I said, Hey, you know, I’m Max, you know, Save Your Home Buyers.

Max Keller (14:06): Do you remember me? He was like, Oh yeah, I remember you. I said, Hey, at the time you had said like you had gotten a higher offer. I was just wondering like, I’m glad you picked me, but why did go with me and not the higher offer? And he said, you know, Max, when we worked with you, you know, we trusted you, number one. So trust is really key, trust is like the key to marketing. I’m going to teach a couple of things around that, you know, later on and give your audience a free gift that they can use to build trust, cause it’s huge. He said, you know, when I was working with you, there wasn’t pressure. You know, the other place was offering more, but they were just kind of like, you know, when are you going to hurry up and sign when are you gonna move out of the house?

Max Keller (14:49): And he felt like I genuinely cared, you know? And I did, you know, that was a huge eye opener. Like you had mentioned earlier, Jay, you know, I was teacher. So I was at these folks’ homes, I was teaching, I was trying to help them, I was trying to help the families. And you know, I had a really close relationship with my grandma. I took care of her for 15 years of last 15 years of her life. And she helped take care of me when I was little. So, you know, so, I had that bond and I felt like when I was going over to these folks’ homes, you know, it was like I was working with my grandma. So I knew this is who I wanted to work with. I knew why they’re picking me, but the problem is, I couldn’t find a really scalable way to do this, because I’m in these folks living room sometimes for two to four hours, you know, and I had another gentleman who’s helping me buy houses.

Max Keller (15:41): And you know, we’re explaining all these details, cause these folks, there’s a huge education gap and there’s a huge education gap right now for private money lenders too. And I’m gonna share what we’re doing about that. But wherever there’s huge education gaps, I learned this being a school teacher, it’s a huge opportunity, because if you can be the person to fill that education gap, then that person, that student, that motivated seller, that private lender, you know, really is appreciative of what you’re doing, and they, you know, reward you with the business. And so, I remember it very distinctly. I went to it was at a home, I’ was buying it in the evening and it was myself, the mom who lived there by herself and the daughter, she was probably like in her early sixties. And the daughter was like, you know, Max you’ve like helped our family out a ton.

Max Keller (16:31): Actually helped the family find a place for their mom to live in an assisted living facility. And she said, you know, you’ve liked helped us out tremendously. Why don’t you, have you ever thought about writing a book about all the stuff that you know. And I was laughing, I was like, no, I don’t think so, you know, I’m not, I’m a house buyer, I’m not a writer. And, I went back to my car and I thought about it and I was like, you know, that’s actually a pretty good idea. I had spent a lot of time learning about senior housing, cause I was noticing my seniors, even when I would teach them what to do with their house, you know, they still had other things they needed to know before they can move. So I would go and learn and, you know, start talking to people at these facilities and read online and just do my research.

Max Keller (17:17): And I was like, you know, I have, I noticed the more I learned, the more I can help my prospect, the more, you know, they appreciated me. And it was like setting me apart, I’d say 95% from my competition. So I was like, okay, this is a way with a book that I could take this to the next level. So that’s what I did, I basically just sat down. I wrote down a list of all the questions that I keep getting asked and you know, folks living rooms and and then wrote the pros and the cons of different options. And that was my first book, Home to Home The Step-by-Step Senior Housing Guide. And I just printed out a hundred copies of the book. I started giving it away and you know, what it did, Jay is the book became my new business card, but it became a lot more than that.

Max Keller (18:02): You know, it also became my new credibility piece. Now I would give people my book and I would have just like instant credibility. I would have, you know, instant trust with that motivated seller. And and I was really positioned as The Senior Housing Expert. And so, to make a long story short, I used the book, It’s been an amazing way to generate deal flow. How private lending got into the mix is that was around the same time that I started making the transition from hard money to private money. And when I was reaching out to private money lenders at first, it was a lot, you know, just a little background about me. I’m doing, you know, three to four deals a month at this stage. And you know, I need to get these deals funded for short term and for long term stuff.

Max Keller (18:51): I’m reaching kinda my limit at the community banks that I had been using. So I went to hard money and it’s very expensive. And so when I started reaching out to the private money lenders, you know, they saw me as a deal maker, but I was pitching, you know, my deal to them. And I was showing them my deal and why it was a good deal or not a good deal. And sometimes they would be really excited about it, but then sometimes they’d look at me crazy because the house is in rough shape. It’s not the kind of neighborhood that maybe the private money lender would, you know, want to live in. And so I was getting mixed results. And so, at around that time, you know, fast forward about 18 months later, I, the book system that we use for private money lenders got an award at a, like a real estate conference.

Max Keller (19:36): And Robert Kiyosaki was there to give me the award. And he, I gave him a copy of my book and it was a really, really cool moment. And a gentleman in Houston named Brad Philips had been doing the exact same thing with his Private Money Book that I was doing with my Motivated Seller Book. He wrote he was a police officer. You know, I think people who work in public service, you know, they do it more than just for the money, you know? And and so he had taken all the questions that his private money lenders had asked him about and, you know, did the same thing and wrote out pros and cons. And he was using it to source private money in Houston. And so he called me and we met through a mutual friend, somebody, you know very well. And we connected, and now that’s part of part of our licensed content that we have. So, you know, originally when I made my Motivated Seller Book, when my partner Brand made his book for private lending, we never intended for anybody else to use it. And you know, later on, I’ll kind of share some of the ways that we work with you know, real estate investors and how we help them, whether it’s deals or dollars build more of that trust and that credibility, you know, so their prospects see them differently, but that’s in a nutshell, that’s really kind of how it all happened.

Jay Conner (20:59): Well, you know, some people, don’t really feel all that comfortable or really that confident in putting themselves out there as an expert or referring to themselves as an expert.

Max Keller (21:14): Right.

Jay Conner (21:14): So, you know, from the standpoint of somebody selling their house.

Max Keller (21:18): Right.

Jay Conner (21:18): Or standpoint of a private lender, loaning money out, in their mind, really what is it that qualifies somebody to be an expert?

Max Keller (21:28): Yeah. That’s a great question. You know, so, people who are committed to being an educator and an advocate for someone else, that’s truly what an expert is. It’s, you know, that’s actually a requirement that we have for our students that we don’t bend on. You know, being an expert is not a way for, you know, shady, you know, people, real estate investors to, you know, take advantage of people. It’s really about it’s not about celebrity, It’s not about when people hear the word expert.

Max Keller (22:02): A lot of times they think, Oh, well, you know, they think about people like Robert Kiyosaki, or they think about people who have done thousands of deals. And they’re like, Oh, I’m not at that level. You know, it’s an expert is not something that a title that we put on ourselves, an expert is something that our prospects see us as. And it’s really about being an educator, being an advocate, and most importantly, putting yourself out there, to be found, you know, the folks that plug into what we do, they want to be out there to be the go to persons of people in their community have questions. They can answer them and they can help. And so it’s really more about being an educator and being an advocate and putting yourself out there. That’s truly what an expert is.

Jay Conner (22:49): So you’ve written a book about, you know, to give yourself credibility when you’re talking to a seller of a property.

Max Keller (22:58): Yes.

Jay Conner (22:58): You also now have another book when you’re talking with a new potential private lender that gives you credibility as a real estate investor to be trusted. So, how powerful would you say it is in having someone having their own book to use as credibility?

Max Keller (23:17): Yeah, so great question. So it’s very, very powerful, you know, I’ll speak from my own example. You know, when I think about all the different ways that I have used my book to get a, you know, return on investment, you know, the first step I did when I got my book was I started giving it away. And a lot of times when people think a book, they think sell the book, and, you know, sure, there’s, you know, folks like you know, Stephen King, I mean, you know, JK Rowling, they sell a lot of books and make money. But for me, you know, that would have been really, really shortsighted. I mean, I did put my book on Amazon and it did hit number one on a couple of bestseller lists, I mean, that was really cool.

Max Keller (23:57): I do get some sales from it, but the biggest thing that I get as a, as a home buyer, as a real estate investor. Is it gives me three things. It gives me expert positioning in the minds of my prospect. It gives me the ability to walk into an appointment and be really prequalified because the prospect has already read and invested four or five hours learning about me and my story. And most importantly, things that are really important for them. And it’s been an ultimate referral tool. You know, I didn’t write a book you know, to have something to sell. You know, I wrote the book in order to have something that, you know, sells me. And so I think that’s a huge, huge difference. And, you know, I’ve been giving it away and it’s helped grow the business.

Max Keller (24:47): And like I said, there’s so many ways, you know, one of them is it’s a referral tool. So, you know, it’s just kinda common sense that if you give somebody a book, you know, they see it as valuable. It’s actually, it has value to us whether they read it or not, because it’s almost like having a band-it sign in their living room, cause when they get the book, they just, they’re not gonna throw it away. So they keep it around. When they read the book, they get to be with us for four or five hours reading it and we’re not there. The other thing is like when their friends, whether their friend needs to sell their house their friend is interested in doing something other than the stock market, you know, when somebody knows the person who wrote the book on a certain topic, It’s just kinda human nature for them to say, Hey, well, I know this, I know the guy who wrote the book on senior housing.

Max Keller (25:38): I know the person who wrote the book on Private Money Lending, here’s his book, you know, and they give it to them and it’s, so it’s a really, really easy way to get referrals. But most importantly, you know, word of mouth, you know, right now we’re, you know, talking to hundreds and thousands of people and the Internet’s amazing tool, but nothing really replaces word of mouth. And I have not found anything that’s been, you know, better when it comes to word of mouth and spreading than a book. So it’s been, I’ll give you another example. Used to be, we went to appointments to buy houses and, you know, we were there, bunch of other investors were there to, kind of felt like we were a dime a dozen, you know, we’re another investor in the stack.

Max Keller (26:21): Now when somebody calls our office, the first thing we do is we say, Hey, do you have a copy of our book? And they’re like, your book? Sometimes they know about it, sometimes they don’t. They say yeah, Max, can you come over? You know, and they book the appointment. Or I, if I talked to them, I book the appointment. I said, but first we want you to read chapter three of the book. It teaches you how to sell your home, you know, pros and cons of each way. If you just still decide that you want to sell it after you read that chapter, you know, then just, no problem, if you decide you don’t, just give us a call and we don’t have to come over. And so we pay a courier to send it over to their house, so they’re getting an autographed copy of our book before we even show up, they read chapter three, but they also read the other chapters.

Max Keller (27:03): You know, now they’re curious, they’re not getting a lot of autographed books from authors. We’re educating them. The book is educational. It’s answering the questions that they have, and they’re having trouble getting the answers from somebody who’s really objective. And so what it does, and the reason we’re getting a lot of exclusive deals is because the people that they call before us, they call them and say, Hey, you don’t need to come over anymore. The people that they were going to call after us that are in the big stack of mail, they don’t call them because why would they call anybody else when they have the person who wrote the book on this subject? And so it’s a really, really big game changer as far as increasing conversions, because when we’re walking in, we’re already presold, and now it’s just sort of like taking the order and just working out the details of the closing and signing the paperwork. And so, I mean, yeah, it cost me a few bucks to send out these books and send a courier, but it’s just so, so worth it. So that’s some of the ways that we get business gains and how some of our students get gains from what we do.

Jay Conner (28:05): Well, no doubt having your own book is hands down a powerful marketing tool for sure. But I can hear our viewers and listeners in their mind right now thinking to themselves, okay, I’m a real estate investor. How in the world am I supposed to write my own book? Like, how do they start?

Max Keller (28:27): Right. Well, the good news about that Jay, is that if you’re thinking that or your audience is thinking of that, imagine what your competition’s thinking, you know, like they’re thinking the exact same thing, which is a good thing because traditionally, you know, writing a book did not have a very low barrier to entry. It was a pretty high bar that you had to clear now, and we’ve made it easy for real estate investors. We think, you know, easier than anybody else ever has, but essentially there’s really two ways to do a book. And it’s really kind of, the breakdown runs along the same lines as there’s really two types of real estate investors that reach out to us. And there’s the, there’s the DIY real estate investor and the ROI. So the DIY real estate investor, you know, those are the folks that like to roll up their sleeves.

Max Keller (29:16): They invest a lot of their own time into the deals, you know, get their hands dirty. And, you know, there’s a lot of trial and error with that method and it takes a little longer to get your return on investment. But if you know, folks enjoy the process and they get satisfaction from that, then there’s like nothing wrong with that at all. So that’s the first kind of person that we help. And I’m going to share here in just a minute specifically, how we help them. The second kind of investor that comes to our Business Deals Chasing You is, I call them the ROI real estate investor. So for them it’s just like, time is money. They don’t want to go to houses. They want to have you know, the acquisitions team go to the house. They don’t work on the rehabs themselves.

Max Keller (29:59): They have teams to do that, and they really leverage a team on all aspects. And so they can focus on just walking down more deals and acquiring more money for their deals. So for the DIY real estate investor, we created the first of its kind, it’s called The Real Estate Investor Book Writing Checklist. And so we sell this, but I’m offering it to your audience, a free copy. So you can go to the links that we’ll have at the end and check it out. And this is a tremendous resource cause what it does is it breaks down, you know, how to pick an audience, how to speak specifically to your motivated sellers, how to structure a book, how to overcome writer’s block. So if you’re DIY for all areas of your business, you can plug into this book that we created that is specifically for real estate investors who want to write their own book to get more deals or dollars. That’s what it is. And so we took all the learnings that, you know, took us hundreds and hundreds of hours to learn and provided a shortcut for you. So that’s one way. And then the other way is we have some licensed content that we allow for some different niches and for the ROI, we allow them to plug into our licensed content.

Jay Conner (31:17): So you got the, do it yourself, people writing their own books, and then you get sort of done for you?

Max Keller (31:24): Yes.

Jay Conner (31:24): Right. So you got both ways. Well Max, why don’t you go ahead and tell everybody how you can help them.

Max Keller (31:33): Sure. Yeah. So just go find out about us just go to DealsChasingYou.com/Conner and that’s with an ER and we’ve got a copy of The REI Book Writing Checklist. They can check it out, get a free copy of it. And then we’ve got some links on the website once they do that, they can go into our portal and they can see what specifically what we’re doing with the different niches. So yeah, just, you know, something to explore some of the checkout and and you can get some value from this book. Like I said, we’re offering it for free for a limited time. And so yeah. Check it out. And we got our contact info on there. If you have any questions about, you know, what it is that we do, and if we can help you, we you know, more than happy to answer any questions that you have

Jay Conner (32:21): For our folks that are listening on our, on the podcast, you may be on Google play or iTunes. Let me spell that website out for you. So it’s www.DealsChasingYou.com, And to get that checklist, is add a /Conner, Is that right, Max?

Max Keller (32:50): That’s correct.

Jay Conner (32:51): So again, let’s put that site up. www.DealsChasingYou.com/Conner, Are there any other ways that a real estate investor can use this book to grow their business?

Max Keller (33:12): Yeah, absolutely. So, you know, I had mentioned earlier about how, you know, this turned into a huge referral tool, you know, for me, it was just easy for people to, you know, connect me to other folks and kind of pass my book around. You know, and another one that’s really, really sort of like a little secret that people know who write books is speaking engagements. So there’s groups of people that are over, you know, your ideal prospect, whether it’s private money lenders or motivated sellers. And and they’re always looking for people to speak, whether it’s virtual or live. And so shortly after I published my first book, I had a church, a local church reach out to me. They had gotten the book from one of their congregation and said, Hey, we got a copy of your book. Would you be interested in speaking at our church?

Max Keller (34:02): And I didn’t. I said, sure. You know, and I didn’t have, you know, presentation, I didn’t have PowerPoint slides or anything. I basically, it was kind of a last minute thing. I just showed up to the church. I had a box of my books and I made sure that everybody got one and I just, you know, basically held up, I got a copy of my book right here. I just held up my book and I just taught out of it. And I taught what I knew. And it was awesome, because the folks were super engaged, you know, they’re just like leaning forward in their seat. And afterwards they came up and told me how much they really appreciated me. And they asked about my services specifically and actually booked a couple appointments that night to go look at houses, which was awesome.

Max Keller (34:45): And, and so, you know, I was really, really blown away that I had given them something that they really wanted and, you know, it was just a small local church, you know, but to me it felt like, you know, I headlined a big stage. I mean, I really wanted to do it again. And so, like I was saying event organizers, you know, they’re always looking for people to speak and being a subject matter expert, being an author makes it really, really easy for them to pick you. You know, I remember one time the organizer asked me what my fee was? And I was like, stuttering, I didn’t even know what to say. I was totally unexpected. And I was like a zero. And they’re like, Oh, okay, well, that’s great. You know, cause we had a budget for a certain amount and I was like, Hey, wait a second thinking about it.

Max Keller (35:29): I mean, honestly I would pay to speak there. You know what I mean? Like when you get a recommendation from the pastor of the church saying, you know, Max is the author, Max is coming to teach about housing. Everybody needs to show up. I had one church that printed out 2000 like flyers and put it in their church bulletin full color 2000 2 weeks in a row. And I didn’t pay for any of that. So that’s a really big deal. And then the other thing is it’s kind of interesting as celebrity, you know, I didn’t write this book to be a celebrity. I’m happy just being a home buyer. And I buy houses here in Fort worth and Dallas. And now I have a group of students that plug into our licensed content, but I didn’t do any of this to become a celebrity, but it’s just sort of part of it.

Max Keller (36:24): When you write a book, people look at you like the other people they know who have written books, like, you know, Dave Ramsey, or like you said, Robert Kiyosaki, I got to meet, you know, recently and you know, Barbara Corcoran and Oprah. I mean, these folks all have books and it is no secret that being a celebrity or being seen as a celebrity, even local celebrity has a lot of power behind it. And folks trust you more. They, they look at you more as the doctor prescribing them the medicine instead of just a salesperson. And so I get folks all the time that asks for a copy of my autograph and they get all excited and I still sort of like bewildered and I just never get used to it. And I say, okay, well, here’s what we’ll do. As soon as you sign the contract over there, you give me your autograph, then I’ll give you my autograph. And we all kind of have a little laugh. So it’s been a really it’s been a really fun journey and it’s been a really different way to buy houses and raise more money for my deals.

Jay Conner (37:26): Well, there you have it folks. I know you’re interested in learning about how to have your own book for your own credibility, for your own story. And you can get the checklist on how to do that yourself, or you can plug into Max and get it done for you. So that website one more time folks is www.DealsChasingYou.com/Conner, Max it’s been fantastic having you on the show, parting comments before we wrap it up.

Max Keller (38:01): Yeah. Just commend everybody for listening to you. You know, you run a really great program and I, you know, I’ve got some time to, we gotten to spend some time together and see your operation and it’s, first-class all the way. So I just commend everybody listening to keep focusing on their education and look forward to checking back in with you in the future and, you know, give you any sort of updates.

Jay Conner (38:25): That’s awesome. Thank you so much, Max. There, you have it folks. Another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I’m Jay Conner, the Private Money Authority wishing you all the best. Here’s to taking your real estate investing business to the next level. And we’ll see you on the next show.

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority

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aestheticvoyage2021 · 3 years ago

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Day 162: Friday June 11, 2021 - “Birth Day”

For years I imagined that someday this photo-a-day project would capture the leveling-up of parenthood; that one of these days would tell the story of the birth of a child, with story of sentiment and love reserved for my own. Today is that day. “Hello World, I am here!” our little lion, William Alexander Acton roared in at 5:01pm at St Joseph’s Hospital in Tucson, AZ at 8lbs 7 ounces. Delivered by Dr. Zohreh Kazemi-Dunn and our nurse Jessica, he was born a perfect combination of his mother’s sweet grace, and his father’s whimsical stubbornness. This brave boy had the timber of his heart tested and proven to be strong and brave, fitting of his names. His story now starts, from atop of so many sturdy shoulders that have pulled for him, helped him, and gave all the positive momentum to pull through 70 hours of labor. A special boy, a special story, a special start.

The story of this day contributed by Audrie after taking time to rest and reflect on this day that we will cherish and celebrate each 162nd spin of the year:

Labor started on a Tuesday evening, and wouldn’t end in a birth until Friday at 5:01 pm — a total of about 70 straight hours. A lot happened in the middle. Some light labor at home that included walking the dogs, lounging in the pool, and baking some delicious GF berry muffins. The doula came over around midnight on Wednesday, and 24 hours of hard long labor Thursday left this baby and I stuck in our journey at 7 CM for most of the entire day Thursday at the Birth Center. Some stubborn scar tissue from another lifetime just wouldn’t budge, and held us in this place. And after we tried it all, curb walking, bathtub laboring, bed post clinging, and manual water breaking, it was time to call it, and head to the hospital for some additional help that the loving brith center and gracious midwives couldn’t provide. So at around 02:00 am on Friday morning I found myself back in the car, laboring along the Old Pueblo sun-baked-pothole-pavement between the soft safe-haven of the birth center and the sterile-squareness of St Joe’s hospital where our child would now be born — one way or another, this baby was to come out. With our Doula still in it with us, we lost the luxury support of my sister, thanks to the stringent hospital COVID protocols. Despite the changes, I clung to the mindset that plans can change but decisions don’t. We had decided to have this baby with the least interventions possible, and that decision started with the plan for an all natural birth at the BabyMoon, and if and when alternate supports were needed, we would take those interventions one step at a time. My sister in law reminded a few days ago — in the mild torture of day 6 past due — that this baby will come, one way or another — this baby would come. Now here we were still coaxing this kid to arrive on day 10 “overdue.”

The mind’s remembrance of the physical labor part — feeling those powerful Rushes of Energy and Waves colliding with flesh and bone, and the mental dive into the soul — of the birth voyage climaxed in the epidural: which came after that incredible car ride and the unplanned adventure in locating the obscurely unmarked and seemingly hidden “Labor & Delivery” door at St Joseph’s Hospital. Even though each passing moment of this excruciating excursion screamed louder than the last, and felt like it had to be final step to top out this hike through variegated levels of painful — As it turned out, those moments were actually just stepping stones leading to the crescendo-epidural. The minutes before the epidural passed like days, and were the quintessential crux of the rock and the hard place. There was just no soft way out. When the chipper anesthesiologist instructed me that it was time to sit down for the procedure — I simply replied “nope” — and when instructed again, I remember astutely enlightening him that I could do this standing up. When the team informed me that I had no option but to sit, perfectly still, legs over the edge of the bed, in this cold sterile room with lights blazing, and then bend and hunch over my contracting gigantic belly, big baby writhing inside, over a pillow, in a reverse body arch, I honestly felt like I could just die. Like that just might very well kill me, it was nauseating and defeating. Did they not realize that this was an impossible ask? And still, here we were — This Baby and I — on this wild ride of a journey, and if the decision for least intervention possible were to remain, then the plan now had to include this part of the story — or else we would surly soon be off in the direction of maximum intervention with general anesthesia and a cesarian surgery. The proverbial rock and the hard place. I can’t possibly explain how I did it, and looking back it still feels impossible to have found that other gear—one that had been invisible before; to go yet another level deeper into that primal breathing, into that deep meditative space, counting it out and back, doing the work disconnecting the brain from the body one more time manually before the medical override could occur. I can tell you one thing about it — I wasn’t in that bright sterile cold hard hospital room when I was given that epidural, somehow I was absolutely somewhere else entirely.

Upon reflection, I think this was my first real glimpse into what motherhood looks and feels like. Laboring through the impossible. And the impossible somehow becomes possible, perhaps only because its not for ourselves. I don’t think I could have done this journey in this way for my own self alone. I think the only reason I completed it in this way, after all that time, was because it wasn’t for me — it was for this sweet baby I had yet to meet but already knew. In those moments and hours where woman is the vessel and baby is the passenger, we just figure out a way. It is beyond miraculous what our bodies do. It is astounding what the mind can overlook. And its unbelievable that even after all that, most women, myself included, can still chose, even desire, to go through this again. There are no chances in this design, Mother Nature made no errors here. And in this looking back, I am simply in awe of the wonderment of it all.

It wasn’t long after the needles were removed and the threaded tiny tubes were pumping me full of the manmade opioid cocktail — A juice that eased the pain but also dulled my mind, that I lost touch with that deep place you go when you are in struggle. And I guess that was the goal. It was time to rest, and time to let this different avenue give way to our goal. Healthy baby — healthy mom — least interventions possible. The hospital is a hard place, but sometimes it is a necessary place, and I am grateful we have medical intervention and advancement to help when and where it is necessary. I am also so grateful for professionals that gave us the chance to continue to the goal with a modified plan. The wild thing about having a pain blocking epidural paired with pitocin that causes the augmentation of stronger contractions, is knowing that your body is doing its hardest work yet but the mind cannot associate fully with it because of the pain block. You are still clear minded and not under the influence of the narcotics but the narcotics are coursing your lower half. It’s a trip. And it did give me the opportunity to at least rest my head, sleep, and reset in a way to get ready for the pushing part I had been looking forward to since Tuesday. It took several more hours, lots of that pitocin, and a few medications to regulate my now self unregulated blood pressure. I was a bit overwhelmed by all the needles, tubes, beeps and cuffs (ironic how the blood pressure machine comes with this name), as I was now chained/locked/tied to the bed and contraptions and computer screens monitoring our every vital. At some point finally the room was left to be dark again, and the sound and the motions in and out of the room became rhythmic and more quiet, and I was able to drift off to some light level of sleep. And Jake was able to sleep too and then slip away to get home for a brief bit to reorganize and regroup after the plans had drastically changed. When he returned to us, he had flowers from Laura, and it didn’t feel like too long after that when our day Nurse Jessica told us we had finally passed the 7 cm mark and were clearly to an 8, and moving along now. And just a short time after that we were told things were finally at a 10 and the pushing part could start soon! YES!

Our amazing doula, Ashley, who had been there every single step of the way in this process from midnight labor in our living room on Wednesday and had gracefully had walked us through all this, never for a minute showing her own fatigue or wavering in her mission of support. Her calm, loving presence was not only warm and encouraging, but unaccountably important in this entire affair. Once we reached the pushing time, she gently coached me into the new frame of mind and strategy that was completely different than what I had been practicing for at the birth center — with an epidural now on board, she explained, it was a different type of pushing and feeling of the body. Nurse Jessica also coached me through it. And together, with the mood light and joyful we had Jake blast some Salt-N-Pepper “Push It” while we got the first few practice rounds started; N O T AT A L L what I had envisioned in my lifetime of projecting what my final moments leading to motherhood would look like, but hey, we were already way Way WAY off script now, so why not play with it, and have something to look back on and giggle a little about. The new way of pushing, epidural-caused-numbed-lower-half, was also not at all what I expected and wasn’t as efficient as I had planned for, so slightly frustrated I made a request to have the anesthesiologist come back and turn my epidural down. The hospital staff appeared to think this was an unusually absurd and uncommon request, but in fact it made a huge difference for me as after they turned it down a bit and the meds reduced I could get into my body again and finally feel a bit more of what was happening down there, so I asked for a second reduction of the epidural to make it even more effective and get my feeling back. If the epidural was to overcome the Pitocin contractions, and get me dilated, and now I was there, I didn’t really see the purpose for this part. We did have to do a pretty long pause and “Labor Down” for a catheter adjustment, because the fluids they were pumping in were not coming out and some significant swelling was starting. In that 45 minutes of pause on the pushing, I could really start to feel things again, and so, when we got the catheter re-situated, and it was time to get back to the active pushing again, I could really tell things were going to go quicker now, and I was much more efficient in moving this sweet baby through the final passage of their journey to the outside. The doctor stopped by to “check progress” and when she saw me do one or two more pushing rounds, I think she was impressed, and didn’t leave the room again, I will never forget her saying loudly “Lets have this baby now” — and the relief coming over me, that this was it, finally, as the clock ticked past 4:30 pm on a Friday afternoon, it had been a long long way from Tuesday.

Jake was on my left leg with Ashley behind him, and nurse Jessica held me on the right side, as a small army of silent worker-bee-women buzzed around the room, Doc Zoe looked at me straight on; all the energy in the room was humming towards one goal. The experience was truly relatable to a hive-mind; a beautifully choreographed dance where everyone had a part, and even those of us doing this for the very first time, were able to just fall in line, and do our steps. Jake was counting loudly with the others as the contractions came and I pushed through them, 2 rounds of 10 with a big breath in-between, and then sometimes the doctor would request another 1/2 push of 5 or 6. They had a mirror in place and it wasn’t long before I could really start to see more of baby’s head, lots of dark hair, making way. A few more of those rounds of pushes, and suddenly the big release of the pressure, and the most beautiful sight I have ever seen; this BIG slippery sweet boy was being held over me, clearly showing his “Im a boy!” parts! Jake was so concentrated on the counting role that he kept going even after our boy was out, so in all the flurry it was me that ended up announcing “It’s a boy!” and then Jake repeated it. We had a William.

In all the emotional climaxing blur, I remember hearing Dr. Zoe say “its a short cord” and I then comprehended why my outreached arms weren’t yet filled with this baby, it took a few minutes more for them to get his cord cut, which Jake did the honors, as we had requested to delay clamping as long as possible and also wanted to harvest the cord blood & tissue. Those few minutes felt lengthy but soon he was detached from the inside of me, and on my chest, and in my arms, and now forever attached to the outside of me. This tiny new human, a boy — William— I had known since mid September, feeling him, sharing him, all on the inside, to now be in my arms on the outside and see him, touch him with yearning and eager hands, was the biggest relief, and biggest flood of love I can ever imagine I will know.

His little cries weren’t quite right though, and I knew he was having a bit of a struggle, and that mom-instinct kicked into high gear overriding everything else with immediate concern, and a need to get him help and be sure he was okay. He had to take a little trip away from me, first in the room for evaluation, and second, up a few floors for a tour of the NICU, before we were finally reunited again. Jake was with him in every second I couldn’t be. Holding his tiny hand and giving me updates when they could. And while the boys were away, Dr. Zoe worked on the remainder of my complications and got my opened underside buttoned back up again. By the time William was returned to me, concerns now addressed and his health seeming to be perfect, we finally got our first few moments of truly studying each other, in quiet calm, William and I beamed at each other, and he immediately wanted to find his way to his new food source and get going on his new mission of gaining weight and getting strong.

For the first time, our family was all together, getting to know each other in these new roles. A child, a Father and a Mother. What a miracle. We were transferred to our recovery room, and beyond starving, I was able to finally devour that Jersey Mike’s sub that had made the trek from home to birth center to labor and delivery to recovery with us over the past week. It was so good. Jake also shared with me a really nice card he had taken the time to write and gift with another Bromelaid plant much like the one he got for me on our first real date over 7 years ago. William seemed to just settle right in. His big cone’d head started to round out, and his skin started to evenly distribute color, and when his eyes were open, he was just so astute and alert. Taking it all in stride. He wanted to snuggle, and suckle. And made sweet tiny sounds. He didn’t cry much. And after the night nurse, Angela, tucked us in, and it was just the three of us for the first time, we huddled together and sang our boy his very first Happy Birthday Song before clock turned over to Saturday. Happy zero birthday

Song: Florida Georgia Line - Always Gonna Love You

Quote: “Endless moons, an opaque universe, thunder, tornadoes, the quaking earth. Rare moments of peace; forehead up against my knees, arms around my head, I thought, I listened, I longed not to exist. But life was there, a transparent pearl, a star revolving slowly on its own axis.” ― Shan Sa, Empress

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lallemanting · 5 years ago

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for want of gold

When your soulmate touches you, it leaves behind an imprint, color staining your skin. Red for romantic soulmates. Blue for platonic. That’s the universe Lucas knows, the one he’s supposed to take part in. He wishes he didn’t have to.

Or an enemies to friends to lovers/soulmate au where Lucas is jaded, Eliott is hopeful, and it should be simple, but, of course, it isn’t.

chapter 6

(tw for a brief scene dealing with Eliott’s bipolar)

“Gold runs in our blood.” ― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

It’s incredible how fast Lucas is able to get himself to leave the art show. There’s part of him that says that he should just go to Eliott, see him, talk to him, that it might not be what it seems.

But there’s another, louder, part of him that just wants to go, wants to sit in his newfound revelation and process. Wants to think about Eliott, and how he sees him and how this changes things.

Because the thing is, Lucille is exactly the kind of person Eliott deserves. She’s beautiful and seems nice and as they stand together surrounded by their friends, Lucas can see how well they fit, how good they look together, how much Eliott deserves that...or at least something like that.

And sure Lucille isn’t his soulmate, but Eliott deserves to have someone now, like Lucille, while he waits. Because Lucas can’t imagine a universe in which Eliott doesn’t get his soulmate. There’s never been someone more deserving than Eliott. And knowing now what that means to him, Lucas can forgive his strict belief in the universe, can forgive the stock Eliott takes in the whole soulmate business, because it’s something for him to hold on to, something important.

In the end, Lucas can’t muster up the courage to go and talk to Eliott before he leaves. He goes up to Sofiane and Imane and says something about a headache – which isn’t entirely untrue seeing how his brain has only been chanting you’re in love with Eliott over and over again for the last 20 minutes. And in any case, Lucas doesn’t want to bring down the mood at the show. It’s Eliott’s big night and he deserves to have it as bright and happy and not influenced by emotional turmoil as possible.

So Lucas finds his coat and slips out.

He elects to walk home, hoping the cold air will clear his head and maybe dull his senses a bit, giving him some relief from the onslaught of feelings he’s having. He’s in love with Eliott. How could he have not picked up on that before? It’s not that it should be overly surprising given how fast he’d let Eliott in, how fast Eliott had made a place in Lucas’ heart to call his own.

And yet, Lucas hadn’t seen it coming. But maybe that’s because he wasn’t paying attention.

He’s been so wrapped up for so long in the logistics of love, the logistics of soulmates and soulmarks and his vendetta against a system he never chose to be a part of, that he’d forgotten to let himself feel anything else.

But now that it’s here, now that the feeling has washed over him and the choir that’s appeared in his head is singing only refrains of him loving Eliott, it feels like he may never be able to live without it.

In his haze to protect the heart his father had broken, Lucas had never let himself imagine there would be someone who wanted to fix it, someone he’d want to fix it. And in the end, he’d set himself up for this really.

And Eliott deserves more than that. Eliott deserves more than what Lucas can give him.

So Lucas puts his head down to steel himself against the cold, and presses on towards home.

***

Lucas tries to slink in unnoticed, desperate for a chance to sleep, to forget the feelings churning within him for a few hours. But it’s not that late and Yann is still up, watching some dumb sitcom on the tv and he spots Lucas as he walks in the front door.

“How was the art show?” Yann asks, his tone light and teasing. And Lucas knows what he’s implying, what he’s hinting at, but having been hit with a tidal wave of new feelings and, perhaps, a little heartbreak, he can’t listen to it right now.

“Fine,” he huffs out, heading straight for his room, not bothering to take off his coat and shoes by the door.

And how Lucas wishes sometimes that Yann didn’t know him as well as he does. “Hey, you okay?” Yann asks, reaching out to pause the show. “Did something happen?”

“I’m fine,” Lucas responds shortly.

“Lucas–”

“I said I’m fine!” He slams his door behind him.

He gets ready for bed quickly, dropping his clothes on the ground in a pile and pulling on an old t-shirt he finds strewn across his bed. He’s cold, which is unusual, seeing as his room is normally boiling due to its small size and lack of ventilation. But tonight there’s a chill clinging to his bones and he shivers, pulling the covers up over his head to speed up his body warming the bed.

His mind is eagerly playing the scene at the show over and over again in his head, refusing, for even a moment to let Lucas breathe. He wishes, desperately, that he was even remotely tired, but he’s not and he knows he’ll be up for at least a few more hours. But the darkness and the blankets are calming so he lays there in the silence.

And it sucks, it does, but sleepless nights with his mind fixating on the same thing over and over again are nothing new to him. So he sighs, tries to find the light in his chest to get himself to calm down, but it’s not there for some reason, it’s hard to find. He tries for a while before he finally gives up, flopping over to retrieve his phone from his pants pocket on the floor thinking he’ll probably turn on some Netflix and hopefully fall asleep to that.

He clicks open his phone and his heart drops.

Eliott (22:53) Hey where are you? Did you leave? Are you okay?

Eliott (23:02) Okay just talked to Sofiane, hope you feel better! Did you get home okay?

Eliott (23:11) Lucas?

Eliott (23:30) Okay I texted Yann and he said you went straight to bed so I’m assuming you’re not responding because you’re asleep Text me in the morning okay? Goodnight x

Lucas’ fingers itch to respond and his heart is almost beating out of his chest that Eliott is texting him, that Eliott wants to know where he is, if he is okay. But then he thinks again of Eliott standing there surrounded by the love he deserved and Lucille and it’s too much. His heart aches and Lucas almost grabs at his chest, but he can’t bring himself to respond. Because Eliott – sweet, charming, beautiful Eliott – deserves so much more than Lucas.

Instead Lucas swipes away and opens up Netflix, finding a show he’s seen hundreds of times before and puts it on, playing episode after episode until his eyes can’t stay open any longer.

***

It should be no surprise then that that night, and for many nights after, Lucas’ dreams are filled with the phantom Eliott that had slipped into his mind and awakened his heart.

The dreams are always the same – lit soft and golden, them laying in bed together, Eliott touching him so softly and sweetly he could cry, leaving trails of red behind in their wake.

They all end the same too – with Eliott leaning in, Lucas longing to feel his lips against his own – only for Lucas to awaken with a start, breath rapid, an ache deep within his chest.

It’s these dreams, Lucas tells himself that make him avoid Eliott. He hadn’t planned on it, at first, giving himself Saturday to deal with whatever he thought he was feeling and push it down, lock it away, just like with everything else and reemerge totally normally. He can do normal. He can do friends. He wants nothing more than to have Eliott around, but there would be no use in telling him how he feels, because what then?

Eliott is waiting for his soulmate and the chance that that’s Lucas, well they’re not very good.

So Lucas plans to tuck it away until the feelings disappear, as he assumes they will, just as quickly as they appeared. But when he wakes up every morning to thoughts of Eliott making him gasp, it’s hard to think of anything else.

For a few days Lucas manages to get away with it. He puts some distance between him and Eliott, texting him back, but only just. He feigns illness over the weekend, shutting Eliott down when he offers to bring him some soup, claiming he doesn’t want to get Eliott sick. He stays in his room for the most part, using the extra hours to study, and thinks he’s even managed to fool Yann, who had picked up a few extra shifts and spent more time out of the apartment than usual.

And then, on Monday and Tuesday, he tells Eliott that he can’t see him because of a major test he has on Wednesday (which, to be fair, Lucas isn’t making up. He’s just, maybe, making up exactly how much time he needs to study for it). And Eliott, like the sweet angel he is, takes everything Lucas says to him at face value, even offering to bring coffee to the library for him, which Lucas nicely turns down.

But Lucas knows that despite his best efforts, Eliott is probably picking up on Lucas’ avoidance more than he’d like. Where memes and silly posts that Eliott would send him normally led to a conversation spanning a few hours, now Lucas replies with a word or two, trying to end the conversation before it starts. It’s just – Lucas can’t get over Eliott if he’s talking to him all the time.

So in the end, it all sets him up to come crashing down spectacularly as it does on Wednesday.

Lucas is at the coffee shop, leaning against the counter chatting with Yann and waiting for his shift to end so they can walk home together when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. He turns, expecting a customer annoyed with him for distracting the barista instead of letting him make the coffees, but instead he’s met with six-feet of sheepish boy, shoulders hunched, hands shoved in his pockets, a tentative smile on his face, dark circles around his eyes.

“Hey,” Eliott says softly.

Lucas stares at him for a moment, forgetting how to breathe slightly, because for all that he’d convinced himself it’d be easy to get over Eliott, seeing him in the flesh for the first time since his realization is like getting hit in the face with a hammer. Lucas’ mouth goes dry and all he can see are Eliott’s beautiful gray eyes staring back at him, warmth flooding his entire body. He swallows, heart pounding in his chest, before he answers. “Hi.”

Eliott shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Lucas has noticed he does that when he’s nervous. So he’s nervous, which makes two of them. “Haven’t really heard from you in a while,” he says, his hand coming up and his fingers tracing over his lips. “Feeling better?”

Lucas shoots a glance over to where Yann is standing behind the counter, seemingly making a cappuccino, but Lucas knows he’s definitely also intently listening to every word they’re saying. “Um, yeah, just caught the flu or something,” Lucas says, “but I’m better now.”

“Good,” Eliott replies.

They look at each other, for a moment, the silence washing over them and this is the first time since they became friends, Lucas thinks, that it’s ever been awkward between them. It brings him back to when they used to not get along, except this time, Eliott is coming in with less fire, less self-confidence than Lucas is used to. He just seems so tired.

Eliott’s hand finds his pocket again and he shifts, looking like he wants to say something. “Um, are you...are you upset with me?” he blurts, eyes dropping to the ground.

Lucas’ chest constricts. “No,” he breathes out, because, god, he’d never want to make Eliott feel badly. This, all of this, is Lucas’ fault. “Why do you think that?”

“It feels like you’ve been avoiding me is all.”

“No, I haven’t, I promise,” Lucas lies, because he can’t explain himself, but he also can’t have Eliott thinking this is on him. “I’ve just been really busy.”

Eliott looks up again, catching Lucas’ eye, a small smile finding its way to his mouth. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“So we can hang out soon?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, good,” Eliott says, pulling on the strap of his backpack. “I, uh, have to go to class now, but I’ll text you?”

“Okay,” Lucas replies and then Eliott is gone.

Lucas turns back to the counter and takes a few deep, steadying breaths, his hands gripping the smooth wood. He looks up and finds Yann looking back at him, a strange look on his face. But he says nothing.

Lucas walks home with Yann in relative quietness, cracking jokes here and there but otherwise just making their way to their apartment. They’re both tired, Lucas knows, and he can’t help but think about the leftovers waiting for him in the fridge and the Netflix he can watch since he doesn’t have any assignments left this week. And maybe that will take his mind off of everything for a few hours.

But apparently Yann has other ideas.

The door to their apartment has barely closed when Yann whips around to face Lucas. “So here’s what’s gonna happen,” he says sternly. “We’re both going to go to our rooms to change and then you’re going to come back out here and explain to me what the fuck is going on with you.”

Lucas just stares at him and Yann stares back, as if daring him to disagree. The look on Yann’s face is enough that Lucas knows there’s no protesting.

“Fine.”

It takes a few minutes but soon enough they’re both sitting in the living room on the old couch. Lucas has changed into a pair of old sweats and a sweatshirt and he plays absentmindedly with a thread at the end of one of his sleeves. They’ve been sitting here for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything as Lucas tries to find the words. Because the thing is, Yann will push, but only just. He’d never actually make Lucas tell him something he didn’t want to. But Lucas wants to. He feels like he might explode if he doesn’t talk to someone about it.

Finally Lucas takes a deep breath and pulls on the thread, ripping it off the hoodie. “It’s Eliott,” he says.

He looks up to find Yann looking at him with one eyebrow raised, unimpressed. “Yeah, no shit.”

Lucas groans. “That obvious, huh?”

“I would have paid money to not have to be a witness to whatever the hell just happened in the coffee shop,” Yann says. “It was excruciatingly awkward.”

Lucas groans louder and shuts his eyes. He really brought this on himself.

“Did you guys get in a fight or something?” Yann asks, his face suddenly slightly contorted with concern.

And wouldn’t it be great if it was just that, if it was that simple, if it wasn’t this instead, the throbbing in his heart that won’t go away.

“No,” Lucas sighs. “Why would you think that?”

Yann shakes his head. “I don’t know, because it was super awkward and the two of you used to not like each other, remember?”

That time feels so far away now that Lucas almost doesn’t.

“No it’s not that,” Lucas says.

“Okay?”

“I, uh, I think I’m in love with Eliott. Or...I am. I’m in love with Eliott.”

Yann just blinks at him. It’s not the gawking or complete and utter disbelief Lucas was expecting.

“You don’t look surprised,” he says.

Yann sighs. “I’m not, not really. Though I’m not really seeing why it’s a problem.”

“What?” Lucas asks incredulously. “It’s Eliott! I’m in love with Eliott and I just realized it and now I’m avoiding him.”

“Why are you avoiding him?”

Lucas groans again because he doesn’t understand what Yann is getting at, doesn’t understand how Yann isn’t immediately grasping the seriousness of this situation. “What do you mean why am I avoiding him? Because I’m afraid that he’ll find out!”

Yann just looks at him.

Lucas goes on. “And if he finds out, it will ruin everything because he’s waiting for his soulmate and he won’t know how to act around me when he doesn’t love me back.”

Yann rolls his eyes so hard Lucas is scared for a minute they’ll get stuck that way. “Lucas, I know you do well in school, but I swear you are one of the dumbest people I know.”

“Hey! What are you talking about?”

“Eliott is 100% definitely into you.”

Lucas stares at him. “What! No he’s not!”

“He so is,” Yann replies, rubbing a hand across his face and looking so, so tired. “The two of you have practically been dating for the past month.”

Lucas’ heart drops to his stomach. “We have not!”

“All the things you’ve been doing, all the times you hung out? Those were dates,” Yann says, his face straight, voice even. “You do realize those were dates right?”

Lucas sputters for a moment. “They weren’t dates! Eliott had to go to them anyway for school and asked me to tag along. Perfectly friendly!”

“They were dates,” Yann says again, even more firmly if that’s possible. “I don’t know if either of you realize it – you both can be a bit, shall we say, oblivious – but you’ve been dating without all the benefits for a month. Homework be damned.”

Lucas closes his eyes. “No,” he starts, but Yann cuts him off again.

“Lucas,” he says and waits until Lucas opens his eyes and looks at him. “You need to talk to him. He’s been treating you like you’re dating. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the homework assignments he suddenly needed help with weren’t just an excuse to get you alone, go do things with you. What does he need your help for, with his art homework? You’re pre-med for god’s sake.”

Lucas blanches. “Well he wasn’t exactly asking me for help , I was just tagging along…”

Yann lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re just proving my point,” he says. And then, “Stop being stupid and talk to him.”

Lucas just stares at him, mouth hanging open. “It’s not...we’re just…” he tries, but no words seem to come.

Yann shrugs, but reaches out and pats Lucas’ shoulder. “Maybe I’m wrong,” he says, “but I think, whatever the case may be, you need to talk to him. Clearly avoiding him isn’t working.”

And Lucas hates it, but he knows Yann is right, knows he can’t keep this up forever.

“You’re right,” he says. “I’ll talk to him.”

***

And Lucas tries, he really does, to talk to Eliott. Only, it seems, Eliott doesn’t want to talk to him.

Lucas texts him the morning after his talk with Yann. Nothing too serious, just asking if they can meet up soon. He gets no response all day, which is definitely unusual for Eliott. He texts him again that night, just asking if Eliott is okay, which also receives no response.

By Saturday, Lucas is annoyed, and also a little worried. Sure, he was avoiding Eliott too, but that didn’t mean he stopped responding to him completely. And after everything, this just feels so unlike Eliott to leave him hanging like this, to just not get back to him, so maybe, in the end, he’s a little dramatic.

Sure, he could have probably texted Idriss, just to make sure Eliott was okay, but there’s something that tells him it would break his heart to have Idriss be the one to tell him that everything was fine, that Eliott just didn’t want to talk to him. So instead, he heads over to Idriss and Eliott’s apartment.

When he reaches the door to their building, it’s early afternoon and Lucas has spent all morning in the library. Lucas had specifically waited until he knew they’d be up and around, not wanting Idriss to be annoyed with him if he knocked on their door at 11 in the morning. He’s about to dial up when someone leaves the building, so he slips in the door, climbing the three flights of stairs to the apartment.

And suddenly, standing there in front of the big wooden door, Lucas feels a little ridiculous. He’s being dramatic, he knows, and he should just turn back, just wait until Eliott is ready to talk to him again, give Eliott space if that’s what he needs.

But he’s here, and there’s something telling Lucas that he can’t walk away now, he needs to know if this is Eliott deciding he’s done with Lucas for good, if just a taste of a few days away from him made Eliott realize he was better off.

Lucas takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

He hears some shuffling inside the apartment and then the door is opening to reveal Idriss, who looks at Lucas with confusion written across his face.

“Lucas...” he says, surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Is Eliott here?” Lucas asks, his voice wavering slightly as he tries not to let Idriss see his panic.

“Uh,” Idriss replies, looking over his shoulder and then back at Lucas. “Listen, Lucas, he’s, uh, not really feeling too well right now and I…”

And suddenly all of his annoyance, all of his fear of what Eliott thinks of him and them and everything else drops away and is replaced by worry. Worry only for Eliott’s wellbeing, because maybe Eliott is hurting or sick or having a hard time and Lucas didn’t know.

“Is he okay?” Lucas asks quickly.

Idriss looks at him tentatively, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “Yeah,” Idriss says finally. “Or he will be. He’s just tired, so I don’t know if now is the best time...”

And there’s something in Idriss face that makes the remaining pieces click into place because Lucas remembers this, remembers from the research he did right after Eliott told him.

“Is, um,” Lucas pauses, unsure of exactly how to phrase it, exactly how to not be insensitive but still wanting to make sure. “Is it his bipolar?”

Idriss’ face changes and he stares at Lucas, slightly bewildered. “He told you?” he asks quietly.

Lucas nods, “Yeah.”

Idriss smiles then, but it’s a small smile, a private smile that seems less about happiness and more like he’s realizing something. “Wait here,” he says. “I’m going to go talk to Eliott.”

Lucas stands in the hallway, waiting, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and all he can think is how much he hopes Eliott is okay, how much he wishes he’d known something was going on, how he’d managed to miss it.

It takes a few minutes but then Idriss reappears from around the corner, and Eliott must have said something okay because Idriss is reaching out to pull the door open wider and ushering Lucas in. “He’s in his room,” Idriss says, pointing down the hall. Lucas smiles at him and goes.

He realizes suddenly that he’s not sure which one is Eliott’s room, that he’s never been in there before, but he pushes the thought down quickly when he sees that only one door in the hallway is shut, the other two leading to a bathroom and Idriss’ room.

Lucas walks up to the closed door and knocks lightly, waiting for a faint come in , before he’s turning the knob and pushing the door open.

Lucas is hit by the relative darkness. It’s afternoon and a sunny day, but the curtains are all pulled tight, light bleeding in softly through the slightly gauzy material. The room is small, but that’s unsurprising for Paris, a dresser in one corner, drawers open halfway, and a small desk under one of the windows.

In the other corner is Eliott’s bed, a large double piled high with blankets and a lump in the middle Lucas assumes is Eliott. There’s a nightstand on one side that holds a lamp, a book, a glass of water and an uneaten piece of toast.

Lucas’ heart pinches.

“Hi,” Lucas says quietly, tentatively.

The lump moves slightly and then Eliott’s head appears from under the covers, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Come in here and shut the door,” he says, his voice croaking with disuse.

Lucas steps into the room and closes the door gently behind him, dropping his backpack from his shoulders and walking over to Eliott’s bed, sitting gently on the mattress. He takes in Eliott’s face looking back at him, the dark circles around his eyes, the way he’s laying, small and curled up on the bed.

“How are you doing?” Lucas asks, hoping it’s the right thing to say.

Lucas thinks Eliott shrugs, but he can’t really tell under the blankets.

“Better than yesterday,” Eliott says.

Lucas swallows, unsure of how to proceed. “Is there anything I can do?”

Eliott shakes his head. “No.” And then, “it’s nice to see you though.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Lucas replies, because it is, it’s always good to see Eliott, even if his heart is aching at how tired and small and sad Eliott looks. “I hadn’t heard from you in a few days,” he explains. “I just wanted to see if you were...uh, how you were doing.”

Eliott sighs. “I’m just having a couple bad days.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not an episode ,” Eliott says quickly, as if he’s used to having to defend himself, but Lucas doesn’t say anything more than okay again, wishing that he could reach out and brush the hair away from Eliott’s forehead. “Sometimes I just have a bad couple days.”

“That’s okay,” Lucas replies and he means it. All he wants is for Eliott to feel better.

They sit in silence for a moment in the dim room, the whirring of Eliott’s fan drowning out the noises outside. And it’s peaceful and quiet and safe and Lucas can understand why Eliott is seeking shelter here, weathering the storm here.

“You don’t have to stay,” Eliott whispers.

“I can go if you want me to.”

“It’s just...I'm not very good company right now,” Eliott replies, pulling up the covers to his chin. “I’m doing a lot of sleeping.”

Lucas smiles. “I don’t mind.”

Eliott stares at him then, his eyes tired but searching, a storm of gray that Lucas longs to see settled, an indent on his face from where it’s been pressed into the pillow. And all Lucas can think is how beautiful he is, how lucky he is someone like Eliott in his life.

“I don’t want you to stay because you feel like you have to,” Eliott says then, his voice even quieter than it was before.

“I’m not,” Lucas replies quickly. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit here with you. And you can sleep because I have some studying to do anyway.”

Lucas thinks he maybe sees a ghost of a smile on Eliott’s lips. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Lucas says and he goes to get his textbook from his bag before he turns around and finds Eliott’s moved over on the bed to make room for him.

(And Lucas can’t help the way his stomach flutters, the way his heart swells, the way, despite all his efforts, the love in his chest expands so much he can hardly breathe with the weight of it.)

Lucas settles onto the bed, a pillow behind his back and Eliott lying next to him, and thinks Eliott has already fallen back asleep, his eyes closed, his face buried in the covers when he says something softly, muffled by the fabric.

“I thought you were avoiding me because of my painting,” Eliott says, “but you’re here.”

Lucas glances down at Eliott, heartbeat picking up as he tries to interpret what Eliott means by that, why Lucas would ever avoid him because of that, but at he stares down at Eliott’s form, sleep already overtaking him, he knows it’s not the time. Instead, he just reaches down and pulls the covers even tighter around Eliott. “I’m here,” he says.

***

Eliott wakes again a few hours later to find Lucas watching Netflix on his phone, slumped down farther in the pillows.

“What time is it?” Eliott croaks and Lucas nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound.

“You’re awake!” he says and then stops whatever he’s watching to check the time. “Ah it’s almost 6.”

“Almost 6.”

“About dinner time,” Lucas muses. “Are you hungry?”

Eliott shifts slightly, bringing his body closer to Lucas’ but still far enough to keep them from touching. “Maybe a little.”

Lucas smiles. “I’ll go get you something, yeah?”

And he does.

Lucas gets Eliott something small and while he’s in the kitchen making it, Idriss passes by with a grateful look on his face and a whispered how is he doing? and Lucas can’t help but feel warm that Eliott has people like that that care for him. He brings the food back into Eliott’s room and waits for Eliott to shift a little so he can eat it, joining him in the bed and eating too. It is dinner time after all.

Then Lucas suggests putting on a movie. “You can go back to sleep if you want,” he says, “but it just might be nice to have on.” Eliott’s whispered okay is enough to have Lucas retrieving Eliott’s laptop from the desk and loading an old Disney movie just to make Eliott laugh.

“I’m sorry but none of your artsy crap,” Lucas teases, and Eliott lets out a small laugh from his pile of blankets. “We’re not using our brains today.”

And then they settle in, the opening sound of the movie playing, Eliott laying back down on the pillow next to him and they’re close but not quite touching, and for once, Lucas isn’t scared.

“I should probably go once this is over,” Lucas says, chancing a glance towards Eliott, whose eyes are fixed on the laptop. He says it quietly, as a precaution, in case Eliott falls asleep and Lucas isn’t here when he wakes up. “Is that okay?”

Eliott shifts his gaze to look at him. “Of course it’s okay.”

“Okay.”

But there’s something gripping his chest, and suddenly Lucas just wants to reach out and touch , reach out and ground himself to Eliott here , as they lay side by side and Eliott rides out the storm. But he can’t, not yet, not like this. It wouldn’t be fair.

Instead he settles for something he can do.

“Can I give you a hug?” he whispers and Eliott turns to him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Can I give you a hug? You know, like how you did for me that one time?”

The more Eliott looks at him, the more Lucas is regretting saying anything at all but then Eliott’s face is splitting into a soft smile and he’s looking, really looking at Lucas in a way Lucas isn’t used to.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

So Lucas shifts, pulling the hoodie more tightly around himself, putting the hood on and pulling on the ties a little, pulling the sleeves down over his hands. And Eliott shifts too, moving to sit up a bit, to settle in closer to Lucas. Lucas reaches out, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck and pulling him close, and Eliott’s arms find Lucas’ waist, wrapping securely around it. Eliott’s face tucks into Lucas’ neck, into the fabric that separates them and Lucas holds on.

He never wants to let go.

They hold each other as a moment passes and then another. And then Eliott whispers something into the space between Lucas’ neck and his shoulder and Lucas almost misses it, but not quite.

“Thank you for being here.”

There’s something raw in his voice, a hidden fear that Lucas hasn’t seen before, hasn’t been witness to, but is there all the same. And Lucas knows that despite everything he’s been telling himself, despite his best efforts, he might not ever stop loving Eliott. But, really, it might not be the worst thing.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he breathes back.

***

Lucas sees Manon the next day, another afternoon of drinking tea in her apartment that Lucas has come to love. They talk briefly about school and classes but Lucas is fidgety and Manon can always tell when something is going on with him.

“Okay, spill,” Manon says, nudging Lucas’ leg with her foot. “What’s going on with you?”

For a brief moment Lucas contemplates lying to her, telling her it’s nothing, but he knows, in the end, he won’t.

“Eliott,” he says softly, his stomach flipping at the mention of him.

Manon raises her eyebrow at him. “Eliott?”

“Yeah,” Lucas replies. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh, Lucas.”

“But I can’t have him.”

“Why not?”

Lucas sighs, exasperated and long and drawn out. “Because he wants his soulmate, Manon, and I can’t be the person he’s with while he’s waiting.”

“How do you know you’re not his soulmate?” Manon asks, her voice low, her eyes searching Lucas’ face.

“The chances of that are astoundingly low.”

“But there’s a chance.”

Lucas wishes his heart didn’t pick up at the mere mention of that. Because he can’t let himself hope, can he? It might crush him if it turns out to be wrong. “Maybe, but, what if I’m not?”

“Would you still love him?”

“Yes,” Lucas replies. “Always.”

Manon smiles at him, a small smile she tends to reserve for times she thinks Lucas is being stubborn. “Then maybe you should give Eliott a chance to make that decision for himself.”

Lucas sighs. “So you think I should tell him?”

“I think it’ll hurt more if you don’t.”

***

It’s been a week since Eliott’s down days and Lucas has been texting him, checking in to make sure he’s alright. They’ve seen each other once during the week, when Lucas brought him some class notes and takeout and they’d sat on Eliott’s couch and watched a movie and it all felt like it had before.

But Lucas knows it can’t stay that way forever. Ever since his conversation with Manon, he knows he needs to talk to Eliott, needs to say something to him or he’s afraid he’ll never be able to move past it. And the last thing he needs is to get his heart broken in a year or two when Eliott finally finds his soulmate. If he’s getting his heart broken, it’s happening now.

He’s made plans with Eliott that weekend – grabbing coffee and homework and Lucas is planning to tell him then, he really is, but it seems like the universe isn’t quite done fucking with him just yet.

Instead, on Friday, when Lucas is dragged to yet another party with his friends, he sees Eliott there, noticing him after he’s already had a drink or two, sending butterflies soaring in his stomach.

Eliott had told Lucas he was planning on going out with Idriss, ready to blow off some steam after his hard time nearly a week ago, but Lucas hadn’t thought they’d end up at the same party. Though now that he thinks about it, it shouldn’t be that surprising, seeing as they do run in the same social circles.

When Lucas sees him, Lucas is where he normally is at parties – hidden in a corner, beer in hand, hoodie pulled up around his face, sleeves pulled down so that no skin is visible. It’s a habit – one born out of self preservation and it’s yet to die.

Eliott...is not where he usually is at parties. Usually Eliott stations himself near the door, greeting as many people as he can as they walk in and or as they leave. It’s a good plan, for someone who wants to touch as many people as they can. But tonight Eliott has tucked himself in by the couch, surrounded by people Lucas vaguely recognizes as his friends from class, Idriss also standing there next to him.

It’s a sharp contrast to see Eliott like that – more quiet and subdued. Usually Eliott at parties is loud and bright and burning, the star at the center of a solar system. Lucas would know: he spent months hating him for it. But now, today, Eliott is more subdued. A star still, yes, burning just as brightly to Lucas, shining just as strong. But now it’s less like Eliott’s a puppet master and more like he’s letting the world move around him. And he’s not touching people. If anything, he’s avoiding them. Lucas doesn’t know what to make of it.

Maybe it’s the beer talking, though really it was inevitable, but suddenly Lucas gets a surge of courage, and tells himself that the next time Eliott extracts himself from the crowd to go to the kitchen or the bathroom, Lucas will go over there, and make sure Eliott sees him, really sees him. Hell, maybe he’ll just walk over and kiss him, throw words out the window.

His heart is beating fast and loud.

Lucas watches as Eliott unfolds himself from the couch, his long legs stretching out as he takes one step and then another, moving around the crowd of people to the back of the couch, not yet seeing Lucas. Lucas feels his muscles itch, like they’re ready to take a step, move him towards Eliott.

And then someone familiar is walking up to Eliott, pressing a kiss to Eliott’s cheek and making Eliott throw back his head as he laughs. Lucille.

Lucas feels the panic well up again and suddenly all the confidence he’s been building the past few days vanishes. He’s being so stupid thinking someone like Eliott could ever love him, could ever even want him. Telling Eliott how he feels will just ruin what they do have, and that’s the last thing Lucas wants.

Lucas turns to leave, fight his way out of the party because he can’t be here anymore, can’t be forced to watch the boy he loves surrounded by people who are better for him, people he actually should be with.

But then he’s coming face to face with a body, connected to a face Lucas has seen before smirking down at him. Lucas recognizes him from one of his classes, thinks his name might be Todd, or Tom, or something like that, but they’ve never spoken before. Why would they?

“Excuse me,” Lucas says and he tries to maneuver around the guy, heading towards the exit, but then the guy throws out an arm, blocking Lucas’ path and Lucas flinches at how close his bare skin comes to him.

“Hey,” the boy slurs, leaning closer to Lucas and Lucas panics taking a step back. “I think we have a class together.”

“Maybe,” Lucas replies, looking around for an easy way to get out of this situation, but finding none as Todd or Tom takes a step closer. “Sorry I have to go–”

“You’re that kid who doesn’t let anyone touch him,” the boy says, triumphant. “You’re kind of hot.”

Lucas doesn’t reply, but something akin to fear wells up in him.

“What do you say you let me touch you, and then you can touch me?” the boy continues, his intentions obvious as he leans closer to Lucas’ face.

“Please stop,” Lucas says, his voice weak, as he hugs his sweatshirt closer. “Please get away from me.”

“Oh come on baby,” the boy says again, reaching out a hand. “It’s just one touch.”

And Lucas freezes. He doesn’t know what to do, where to run. Instead, Lucas closes his eyes, flinching as the boy reaches out to touch his cheek.

And suddenly the shadow above him is gone.

“He said to leave him alone,” a voice says roughly, coming from beside Lucas. “I suggest you listen to him.” And Lucas knows that voice, he’ll always know that voice.

Lucas opens his eyes to find Eliott standing there, roughly holding the boy’s wrist from where he’s wrenched it away from Lucas’ face. The boy is grimacing in discomfort as Eliott holds his wrist at an uncomfortable angle.

“You’re gonna leave him alone,” Eliott says slowly, firmly. “And you’re going to apologize. Do you understand?”

The boy nods rapidly. “Jesus, yes, okay?” Seemingly satisfied, Eliott releases his wrist, and the boys snatches it back, rubbing it slightly as he turns towards Lucas. “Sorry,” he says and then he turns, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Eliott quickly turns towards him. “Are you okay?”

Lucas nods his head a little frantically. “Yes,” he says. And then– “Thank you.”

And it’s funny, because the last time Eliott did anything like this, the last time Eliott tried to protect him, it had pissed Lucas off so much he’d yelled at him on the streets of Paris, had burned the blood in his veins, had made him so inordinately angry he’d lashed out.

But this time, this time it’s different. Because standing here, seeing Eliott regard him with a gentle kind of worry, a gentle kind of affection that veers slightly too close to what Lucas wishes he was feeling, it hurts . It sets an ache off in his chest and before he can stop them he feels tears pricking at his eyes.

And god, the last thing he needs right now is for Eliott to see him cry, so he looks up, meeting Eliott’s gaze once who gives him a small, reassuring smile and then he’s pushing past him, muttering a I have to go and running out onto the street.

He shouldn’t really be surprised when Eliott follows him.

Eliott shouts after him, but Lucas keeps his head down, willing his legs to carry him faster, his heart hurting so much that Lucas thinks maybe it’s started to break. But Eliott’s legs are longer than his and he’s determined, so Lucas doesn’t make it very far before Eliott catches up to him.

“Hey, hey,” Eliott says, reaching out and briefly touching Lucas’ clothed shoulder to make him stop. “Are you okay? What did that guy say?”

Lucas stops, and then spins around to face Eliott. “I’m not upset about the guy, Eliott. He was an asshole, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

He turns to start walking again but Eliott jogs to catch up to him.

“Then what’s wrong?” Eliott asks. “Clearly something’s wrong.”

And Lucas has had enough of this. He can’t do this right now. “Isn’t Lucille waiting for you?” he spits out.

Eliott stops walking. “Lucille?” Eliott asks, something that seems like bewilderment lacing his tone. “Why are you talking about Lucille?

“Aren’t you with her?”

Eliott looks at him incredulously. “No?” He pauses. “I mean, we dated super briefly in high school, but no?” He just stands there, deflated. “Why are you asking?”

Lucas shrugs, turning to face Eliott. “No reason.”

“We broke up when I started getting serious about the whole soulmate thing,” Eliott says, running a hand through his hair. “But I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about that and I’m not sure it makes sense anymore.”

Lucas feels like he might throw up. “ Not being with Lucille, you mean?”

Eliott looks so genuinely confused that something in Lucas’ chest kickstarts. “What? No god, we weren’t right for each other in the end,” Eliott says, his voice shaking, a sincere tenor running through it. “I mean it was good once, but...no, I, uh, I’m never getting back together with Lucille.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to look confused. “What did you mean then?”

“About soulmates,” Eliott says, his voice quiet. He pauses for a moment, eyes searching Lucas’ before he speaks again. “I’m just worried that I might be missing out on something great by focusing so much on it.”

“Okay,” Lucas says, unsure how this has to do with him.

Eliott takes a step closer. “The thing is, I was convinced that a soulmark would be the way for me to know that I deserved love, that the universe wanted me to love,” he says, taking a deep breath. “But, I’ve realized recently that there’s a lot of love in my life that the universe didn’t mark. And it’s still special. To me.”

Lucas doesn’t know what to say. Of course Eliott deserves love, of course people would love him. Lucas is living proof. His heart thuds louder and he just stands there, silent, waiting for Eliott to continue.

Eliott takes another tentative step towards him. “If I’m meant to be with my soulmate, then I will be. But maybe my soulmate is platonic, or maybe I don’t have one at all. And maybe it doesn’t matter. But I’m done waiting.” He looks at Lucas, and there’s something there behind the flashing in his eyes. “What about you?”

Lucas swallows. “What about me?”

“What are you waiting for?”

“You know I’ve never been a fan of waiting on the universe.”

Eliott lets out a small laugh, but it seems to get stuck in his throat and he hasn’t looked away from Lucas, looking at him with an intensity Lucas has never seen before. “And if you didn’t have to wait?” he asks, softly, but Lucas hears every word, his whole body tensing. “If you found someone who would choose you regardless? Would that be enough for you?”

And Lucas can’t do this, his mind is going blank, his brain is shutting down because they cannot be having this conversation, this cannot be what Lucas has been imagining. He has to be understanding something wrong but Eliott is looking at him, really looking at him and Lucas feels like he’s ripped open his chest and laid it bare for Eliott to see.

But then he’s reminded of the worry that’s been plaguing him since his realization. He knows Eliott, knows how this all has been so important to him for so long. But here he is saying it’s maybe not as important as he thought and so Lucas should take that leap, but he needs to know, needs to lay it all out and hear it from Eliott.

“Would it be enough for you ?” he asks.

“Yes,” Eliott says weakly and without hesitation. “I’m beginning to think so.”

Lucas doesn’t know what to say. Instead he huffs and turns, heading back down the street. He picks up his pace, as Eliott trails just behind him.

“You never answered,” Eliott calls out to him and Lucas feels his heart constrict because this is it, this is an opening Eliott is giving him and Lucas should just take it.

He turns to look back at Eliott’s face, his mouth frozen in a tentative smile, the corners turned up in the way that makes Lucas’ heart race.

He opens his mouth and he’s about to answer, he really is: yes, Eliott, that would be enough , when it all happens in very quick succession.

Lucas isn’t paying attention to where he’s going and trips on a loose brick in the sidewalk, pitching forward towards the concrete. He feels Eliott’s strong hand grip his wrist to keep him from falling, to steady him, but the foreign feeling of Eliott’s fingers against Lucas’ skin sets his heart aflame.

Lucas has been doing everything he can to avoid touching Eliott, avoid brushing skin against skin, avoid knowing what they’d be – because he is terrified of the answer. He’s in love with Eliott, he knows, and he’s spent far too many nights in the past week imagining Eliott marking him in shades of red. The idea that he might leave a blue mark on his skin or worse, no mark at all, makes Lucas feel sick.

And yet, despite all that effort, here he is – finding out if Eliott is his soulmate because he’s clumsy. It’s a bit anticlimactic.

It happens quickly – Lucas falling, Eliott catching him.

And then Lucas hears Eliott inhale sharply. Eliott has pulled Lucas to his feet, but hasn’t let go of his wrist, of the space where their skin is touching for the first time. Lucas can’t turn around, he can’t look. He wants to live in that space of blissful ignorance for just one more second. Just one more second.

“Lucas…” Eliott says, but it’s more of a whisper, so soft and feather-light that Lucas can’t be sure he’s heard it at all.

“Lucas.” There it is again, firmer. Eliott calling his name. Eliott daring him to look.

And then the anticipation meets with Lucas’ denial and it’s too much really, the not-knowing. So he turns around.

And there, at the space where Eliott’s fingers are grasped around Lucas’ wrist, Lucas sees something spreading across his skin. It doesn’t move far outside of Eliott’s grip, but it’s enough that Lucas can see it there, see the light it’s giving off in the dark night as Lucas and Eliott stand frozen on the sidewalk.

And there’s relief, in Lucas’ heart, because Eliott has left something on his wrist, has made his mark after all. But there’s confusion too. Lucas and Eliott are silent, both of them unable to tear their eyes away from the place that Eliott’s fingers have touched.

“Is that...?” Lucas asks, trailing off, his voice sounding weak and unsure.

“It must be,” Eliott responds. “But I’ve never seen that before.”

Because the shape marking Lucas’ skin is neither red, like the mark of a romantic soulmate, nor blue, like the mark of a platonic one.

It’s gold. Bright, shining, radiant gold.

#skam france #elu fic #skamfr #elu #please show up in the tag #😉#fwog #my writing

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tokidokitrash · 4 years ago

Text

It’s been quite awhile since the previous post and I’m sorry!

I actually wrote this awhile back, but lacked the courage to post it.

I’m someone who is quite insecure and scared of how people might view me and my writings online.

But today I decided to just post this anyway-it’s June and Seven’s birthday is coming up— heck it!

I’m sorry it’s so long , and we aren’t at a conclusion yet- I’m just writing whatever comes to mind kinda and I’m grateful to any who reads it- your notes are such an encouragement, however small.

Also, amidst these crazy times, I hope you are all well, stay healthy, remember to eat!

——————————————————————————————-

The way we are - 02

Seven is left standing outside her door. He’s pretty lost for words at this point, which is rare for a smart mouthed genius like himself.

He has to admit, he feels better after laughing like that -it was cathartic, but after listening to what she just said, seeing her smile like she was entirely broken inside, he can’t help but feel that he’s lost something very, very important in that moment.

He’s realised she was probably crying.

And that it was most definitely his fault.

Pangs of guilt worked his their way up his mind, as his heart aches at the thought that he’s given someone as cheery as her so much sadness over his demeanour.

She had always been so strong, so happy. Shining with the brilliance of the sun with every step she took. Always seemed like nothing in life could bring her down. True, she was a little weird, with her adorable exclamations of excitement over what would seem to be the most mundane of things. How he’d catch her standing outside the apartment for a spell, start to worry she’d seen something or someone that could cause her any harm....only to realise she’d be staring adoringly at a pigeon who’d made his way down the corridor. She seemed to be delighted by any little critter or creature, and that part of her, he adored.

She was such a sweet creature herself.

He’d sometimes catch himself distracted by the CCTVs, ever on a lookout for a glimpse of you, eager to see if he could decipher what had caught your interest that day.

And oh, how his heart would swell whenever you returned to the apartment, no matter how distracted you’d be, or how many bags you were holding after a trip to the grocery store... you’d always find time to look up at the cameras and flash him a beaming smile, giving him a little wave or wink. He’d sometimes find himself giving you a wave back, blowing a kiss or two, despite knowing full well you’d never know this. You were just so, so cute, he felt his heart would burst at the seams and implode on him due to an overload of cute.

While he might be greedy for more of your attention, he savoured those little, minute, unseen interactions with you.

The incident with ‘unknown’ was the turning point.

Seeing that precious girl in danger once was too much for a lifetime.

How could he have let this happen? Was he just incapable to protecting those he cared about?

His mind entered overdrive at the realisation that Unknown was none other than his sweet younger twin Saeran, whom he’d always longed to reunite with someday.

But never in his wildest, sickest imaginings did he want a reunion like this.

Saeran, who stood before him, a completely different man. Gone was the timid, sweet boy- in his place was a twisted man whom the world had hurt too much...and it was all his fault- he failed to protect his brother .

So many unanswered questions reeled in his head, he was having the worse headaches of his life. Trying to piece together the massive puzzle that was unfurling right before his eyes. If there is indeed a god, he was being awful.

In the days he spent at MC’s place, frustration and growing anger seeped into his very core. The complications between Rika, V and Mint Eye...and how....what happened to Saeran?? Then there was the anger at himself... at how put MC in danger. He had nearly let his bright, shining flame get snuffed out.

All this was too much, he was slipping off his 707 persona, whether he wanted to or not. Telling himself it was for the best, he started pushing MC away, first treating her coldly, with disdain, as he tried his best to pour himself into the work.

Next came the harsh words lashed out towards her fuelled by his own frustrations.. Or just ignoring her, or just telling her she was being an annoyance, disrupting his work.

Yet she still always came to him, like she was pulled towards him by an unseen force.

Sometimes, all she wanted to do was sit close to him, watch him work.

Other times, she would make small talk, peppering the conversations with little jokes, trying her utmost best to lighten the mood.

She always seemed to have her eye on him, watching over him. Often fetching him some dr.pepper or honey Buddha chips, or, you know, proper food and water so he doesn’t die of malnourishment.

Once, he had accidentally dozed off mid-work, and woke to the feel of a blanket placed on his back. Then, being the jerk he is, he told her not to bother with him and leave him alone, to stop wasting her time on him, before grabbing the blanket and hurling it across the room, startling her.

Regret sank in immediately when he thought he saw her eyes glisten with the threat of tears... he saw her lips force themselves into a tight smile, the she pouts a little, rolls her eyes just ever so slightly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Alright, alrighttt, sorry!!” She exclaims as she gingerly pick up the blanket- folding it neatly before placing it in the couch next to him...”jusssst in case, alright? “ she says in a whisper , before adding “.....Please take care of yourself.”

He just ignored her the rest of that night.

He hated that even in this crazy situation where he’s already decided to push MC away for her safety, she still made his heart glow with a slight warmth whenever he saw how much she cared for him.

Since the day after the incident, he realised she truly was a strange one. She seemed flighty, almost airheaded at times, like when her curiosity got the better of her and she touched the floppy disk containing all the photos he had of Saeran, leading Seven to lash out at her and tell her to mind her own business for the umpteen time...

Yet there where times she seemed acutely sharp, always seemingly able to see through his 707 persona- to look deep within him and see Saeyoung.

‘No. What she was attracted to was the 707 she could fool around with in the chat rooms. Not this horrible person I truly am...not Saeyoung.’

Heading back to his corner, Seven tried to settle back into work.. but his thoughts keep bringing him back to MC. He had never wanted to see her like this. He recalls what he managed to see in that short moment they had eye contact- the reddened, swollen eyes, tear-stained face. It ripped his heart to shreds knowing he did this to her.

During that moment, there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to apologise to her, scoop her up in his arms and kiss all the tears away, whispering apologies and sweet nothings to her as he showed her that he cared for her just as deeply as she did him.

On the other hand, the other side of him wanted to bolt out of the apartment. So that he could never hurt her again- that way she could forget about him sooner.

At this very moment, all he could think about was how much of a jerk he was- how he really could never stand in the sun with someone as radiant as her.

He was filth.

Head pounding, he sighs, slipping his headphones on- well aware this might make his headache worse, but he still blasts the music anyway, as though he’s looking for some internal form of self-punishment.

Minutes had probably turn to hours, the sun had long since risen, already hanging a little lower in the sky. Seven cracks open another can of Dr.pepper, his tongue a little numb from the constant combination of Honey Buddha chips and his favourite beverage. Idly he realises the last proper meal he had ......was the same time as MC’s. That fact makes him straighten up. He had at least some semblance of nourishment over these last two days- what about her?

He started to feel ashamed of his actions, more so, his inactions. Had he truly been so wrapped up with work and trying to push her away, that he failed to check if her basic needs were met? Whipping out the phone that had been stowed away in his oversized hoodies’ pockets, he fires off a private message to her.

- ‘Are U awake?’

...he stares at the phone expectantly, waiting for her reply.

Only the reply doesn’t come.

‘...maybe she’s asleep. ‘ He quietly thinks to himself. The idea to hack into her phone crosses his mind, but he stops himself. If he does hack into her phone, not only would it be a telling sign of his occupational hazards, it might also be a serious breach of her trust....but from the way she used to flirt with him on the messenger, she sure gave the impression that she might not be totally against the idea of him sneaking a peek or two at her.

He brushes the thought away, absentmindedly rubs his face and ugh, he feels greasy and gross- he himself was in dire need of a shower, as he’d clearly neglected himself these last few days- well, maybe the days before these as well. The man took terrible care of himself once the momentum of work was in full swing.

Phone still clutched in his left hand, he starts looking up food delivery options. He couldn’t care less about himself, but was growing more concerned about MC- he won’t have her starving herself, not on his watch! He mutters the various food options he sees on the screen, wondering what would be a good choice. “........bibimbap? Kimbap? Ah maybe something different like western or....fast food?.........hnnnnnn Indian food? What would it be.....hmmmmm...”

“WOAHH”

Her voice booms from the phone and he yelps, fumbling about with the phone. He quickly holds the phone against his ear.

“is this a miracle?! Are you finally going to eat something?!” She exclaims, voice a littler higher due to excitement and he winces from the loud volume, pulling the phone away slightly.

“MC?? How come you’re on the pho- ahhh. I did it again didn’t I?? Ahhhhhhh I need to stop dialling you ahhhhhhh” he groans as he slaps his forehead. The sound elicits giggles from her, and his heart does little somersaults in response.

“Dawwwww did you truly miss little old me thaaattt much?”

Why Yes. Yes he did.

“I know choosing what to eat might be difficult.... but you didn’t have to call y’know- cause ...dundundun! Here I am!”

Right as she says that, the door to her room swings open and she jumps out of the room, one arm up in the air, the other holding the phone to her ear, presenting herself. To Seven, it seems like light has returned, and she’s brought a gust of fresh air with her- her joyful bearings seemed to alleviate that pounding headache he’s been having. Only now does he realise that he’s finally relaxed his furrowed brow.

“Ta-dahhhh~!” She says, and Seven can’t resist clapping for her, then mentally slapping himself for going along with her antics. Hadn’t he resolved to push her away, not show the slightest form of affection for her? But ahhh, how could he have possibly resisted that??

She brings her arm down and does a little bow for him, then patters over towards his corner, dressed in a large, long sleeved shirt and pyjama bottoms with animal prints all over. Her short umber hair a messy cloud, sticking up in weird tufts, being uncooperative with her as she gently combs through her bed-head. Being so stupidly adorable- he notes. As she nears him, she stills herself, before awkwardly sitting at the far end of the couch. “So, uh, I’m here to....help?” She says as she smiles widely, exaggerating for him. He resists the urge to chuckle, and tries to go back to his ‘serious, no nonsense, leave-me-alone’ persona...then he remembers whatever happened during his last interaction with her, and tells himself that he doesn’t have to be that much of an ass. He clears his throat, noting that her eyes were now downcast, but always sneaking glances at him.

“Well, I guess it’s good you’re here, I was about to order food for us-speaking of which, I hope you aren’t starving yourself. You shouldn’t bother with me, but you should make sure to eat, to take care of yourself, or the rest would worry about you..”

“Hmm, I know! You don’t have to worry about me too, Seven~” she sighs “I can handle myself too.” Her voice seemed laced with a barely noticeable tinge of sadness at that last statement.

Worried, Seven finds himself at a loss for words, he hadn’t had time to think about how to act around her, and as the awkward atmosphere nearly makes a comeback, her belly makes its presence known on cue with a small, but audible rumble. A slight pink blossoms on her cheeks, and they stare at each other, before casting a sheepish look his way.

“bibimbap sounds good right about now though...”

He darts his eyes away from her and disguises his chuckle as a grunt,signalling his approval in her choice, rapidly scrolling away on his laptop, searching for bibimbap...and it takes every fibre of his being maximum effort to hold back the laugh that nearly escaped him, as her blush turns from pink to scarlet.

——————-

Thank you again for reading! And thank you to @emberchoihan for your comment on my previous post :)

#mysme angst #mysme luciel #mysme mc #mysticmessenger #mm 707 #saeyoung choi #mm #saeyoungxmc #saeyounq #mm saeyoung #saeyoung fic #thewaywearefic #fanfiction #707xmc #707 #mm luciel #luciel x reader #luciel choi #thisshitiskindadraggyandimsorryok

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