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quietrainfan · 3 years

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Hey! Anyone want some heavy platonic Loceit angsty headcanons I've extracted from the new episode? Well, too bad because it's happening regardless. :)

Yes, also some Unsympathetic Patton. You know what blog you're on. (This interpretation/headcanon shall not die. Not here.)

(Also, this is going to combine my observations and thoughts as well, so sorry in advance if this post turns out as a bit of a mess.)

Alright, so! Orange Side confirmation. How we feelin', Sanders Sides fandom, how we feelin'?

Honestly, the Orange Side theory wasn't something I was really all that into. It was a 'meh, could be cool' headcanon for me personally. But I have to say the way the reveal was handled made me jump in my seat with pure joy. No joke, I audibly gasped when Logan's eyes flashed orange.

It was all downhill from there, I was excited. Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm a sucker for character's eyes glowing when they've reached their limit or are displaying a power they've never shown before, combine that with an unexpected reveal and I'm sold.

Plus, glowing eyes have been a common theme with Unsympathetic content and Dark Side headcanons so you could imagine how the first peak into the Orange Side's existence (or, rather confirmation. we all saw the 'hello' hint, Orange, you cheeky little munchkin.) was his color in Logan's eyes made me feel. It was so cool!!! Ah!

Then Thomas had to tease us again at the end card with our boy Orange's eyes popping up in the darkness, waiting for his chance to be too loud to ignore. Like, the audacity. Who do you think you are, Thomas?! (That was a joke. Sorry, I'm just really pumped.)

Also, Remus got quite a few laughs out of me. Ah, I missed him.

Okay, headcanon time! We're going to do Logan first, then Janus, then combine the two. Sound good? Alright, here we go (Trigger Warning for discussions of alcoholism, please if anything I write here sounds insensitive or inaccurate, let me know and I will edit. Also, no need to read if you don't want to. Stay safe.) :

Logan

Logan knew where to grab for that alcohol bottle.

I mean, I guess that makes sense since he lives there and is naturally the most observant Side. But...that bottle's placement was a little too convenient.

Sure it was played up as a joke and it was funny.

But something about the way Logan threw his coffee into the sink and quickly replaced it with the wine stuck out to me.

I've joked about Logan and/or Janus having to "drink to cope" due to sharing the single brain cell Thomas has amongst all the chaos. But seeing that in an actual episode, even as a gag, is kind of...different.

Let me explain.

This may be a common thing for Logan that he struggles with.

He wakes up early to be the first one to help Thomas start the day, naturally. Logan goes to make his cup of coffee and there's always the lingering urge to take a sip of wine before anyone can see because he just...can't face everyone without needing just a little bit of it to cloud out all the gross, petty, negative feelings he experiences every day around them.

He's logic. He can't be drinking and risk any more harm to Thomas's function.

So, it's a constant battle with coffee vs wine, coffee vs wine, coffee vs wine-

Most of the time Logan is able to resist and go with the coffee.

It doesn't make him feel good in the slightest. If anything it makes him feel even worse knowing he'll be more alert that day.

Logan hates that was even a thought at all. He needs to be alert. Otherwise everything will fall apart. He is the rock in the system and without him everything will crumble.

Such a selfish mindset. He needed to focus.

Other days Logan just doesn't have it in him to discard the wine regardless of how much he wants to.

He knows what the day holds for him. It was all so repetitive at this point. Logan knew when he wasn't able to get through it despite it all.

That didn't stop him from shaming himself for caving. He should be able to handle this. He's made so much progress with resisting it up to this point but today he through it away again because he just had to, right?

Sometimes Logan finds himself "cheating" by hiding a couple drops of wine into his coffee on days when he chose the coffee but later felt particularly bad about...a lot of things, into his second cup.

Logan more often times chooses neither. The temptation for clouding out the others was just too strong and was a waste of time.

Logan is beyond tired of the others.

Every single action they have agitates him now. No matter how minor it is.

Roman's loud voice and constant references makes Logan's toes unconsciously curl beneath his shoes. Even a silent warm smile and wave from the prince fills Logan with an unpleasant tingle in his knuckles.

Virgil's neverending foreboding and unnecessary nasty remarks that he doesn't even bother to filter provokes Logan's new habit of biting his tongue. Any kindness he ever gives him makes his stomach twist.

Patton's nicknames, poking for for a laugh, his "sweet" way of shoving away any objection he may have, how casually he behaves as if he isn't part of any problems- how quickly he's prepared to "bounce back". Logan feels like every word, action from him something steps on a guitar cord in the back of his mind that makes the ugliest, loud, screeching sound. He feels this strange warm fuzzy ache he can't define. All he hears is that cord playing faster and faster the longer he stays in their presence. Logan no longer trusts himself alone with Patton.

Logan thinks if he just separates from the others long enough, the ugly strumming noise will go away.

But he's so wrong.

Logan can hear it even when he's all alone. When it's finally silent, he still can't get rid of it.

It's loudest when Logan is alone in his room. Logan has lost count of how many nights he's spent clenching his head, quietly sobbing, and praying for it to just go away already.

Logan often feels like he's losing it.

On nights where the sounds are particularly louder than usual, he swears he can see orange shadows creeping around him, lights of the color flashing on and off, he sometimes even sees it seeping in and out of the cracks of his door like a thick fog. At times he'll even wake to it glowing absurdly bright through his window.

It's just the sunrise. Logan tells himself. He has to believe that. Everything else looked normal, after all.

What's worse is Logan doesn't know how long he's been hearing this sound or seeing the strange lights.

Patton knows about Logan's late night and early morning struggles.

But surprise, surprise, he pretends as if he's nonthewiser.

If either Virgil or Roman asks about Logan, Patton will answer: "Oh, that silly billy's probably got his head in one of his astronomy books again! I wouldn't bother him right now."

Knowing full well he's having an emotional breakdown in his room that gets worse every day.

Knowing about the little sneaks of alcohol in his hot morning beverage. Might even speak about yummy drink combinations when they hang out in the living room, while Logan is present, specifically and even only on the days Patton knows he's cheating with his bad habit, while he's still drinking it.

The further Logan is to the edge, the better. Patton is still bitter about the events of Redux ending in his favor, after all. He needs leverage from somewhere.

When Thomas left to see Nico, Logan heard the cord again. His chest tightened and though he could feel the tears welling up, he kept them down.

Thomas hasn't been very happy lately. He had to let him have this.

No matter how loud those cords get.

Janus

I noticed that Janus was either unseen by the others or unacknowledged by them.

Janus was near all of them but far enough that he was separated.

He could've just popped up at the end without them noticing but...that's less angsty therefore less fun so-

Janus has been the instigator for bringing Sides that have been hidden away to be brought to light for a long time. If the assumption that Janus let Remus out is true.

He's always been hinting at upcoming events that are sure to come if Thomas continues to ignore certain aspects of himself.

He knows. He knows our Orange boy is getting worse and soon will be too loud to ignore. Janus wants to protect Thomas but that's becoming harder every day. Thomas is making it harder.

Janus will reveal the Orange Side eventually. And very soon. Hell, that's looking like less and less of a choice considering Logan's...outburst.

I think Janus has this painful awareness that he can be seriously hated for doing his job. After all, he's always the one who's forced them to acknowledge uncomfortable truths about Thomas.

He's the one giving them all of those hard pills to swallow and especially after Remus, it is definitely overwhelming and exhausting to be met with.

They question their roles more and more because of how used they are to the fixed mindset Thomas has had for such a long time.

That can't feel good.

Janus knows that his job may cause more hatred to fester the more that's revealed.

Janus is being kept at arms length and he knows that won't stop any time soon.

But he's a clever snake. That won't keep him from keeping an eye on Patton.

(Find it real suspicious that Patton was all mushy with Janus in that end card but still is at a big distance from him.)

Loceit

Janus will sometimes find Logan in the common room with his head in his arms, sprawled out against the coffee table. His glasses being discarded from half his face, unmistakable tears lazily dripping out of his lifeless eyes.

Janus would wordlessly go to the sink and grab a glass, filling it with water.

Janus goes over to Logan, giving him a gentle rub on the back. He urges him to sit up. It takes Logan a few minutes but eventually does.

Janus hands Logan the water, supporting the back of his neck as struggles to get it down, reminding him to take his time.

Janus takes his glasses and gently sets them on the table. He hands Logan some tissues.

Logan lifelessly takes them and tries to clean his face. But he always ends up crying into them.

Janus moves Logan unkempt bangs from his face before moving his head to his shoulder. Janus manifests a warm blanket over Logan and uses a bit of his abilities to soothe the shorter man's pain, tenderly putting pressure on his neck.

Janus and Logan have a talk. Logan always asks why he bothers to stop and comfort him.

"You've helped me through a lot, Logan. Not returning the favor is out of the question."

That was always his answer.

Janus and Logan do this often.

Janus opens up about sometimes needing a bit of a drink himself from time to time. Though mostly that consists of tea more often than not, he sometimes has a glass of wine or two to relax on days when it's particularly hard.

He feels ashamed of it. Janus has to be the strongest out of everyone, especially the Dark Sides. Allowing things to faze him was the worst case scenario. At least, to that degree.

But Janus understands that isn't his fault and urges Logan not to blame himself, either. While he hated that weakness he occasionally submitted to, he wasn't going to let the rare slip up to define the worth of his role.

Logan thinks that Janus really is the strongest out of all of them just for saying things like that and he's being too hard on himself.

On nights when things become too much Janus will sit with Logan and share a drink. They try to have as many conversations without wine as possible but sometimes Janus says "screw it" and sits with Logan with one or two drinks.

Just having Janus there helps Logan choose his coffee in the mornings and feel as if he's being heard even a little bit.

Now if only those cords could actually quiet down, that'd be even better.

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

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Linzin Week 2021 Day 4: Gaoling / Nobility

Note: Here is my contribution for Day 4: Gaoling / Nobility. I admit - this was a bit of a ramble, a ramble that I rather enjoyed as I tried to put into writing this plot bunny I had in mind. Hope you like it. (unedited as of posting time)

-----

Pairing: Lin/Tenzin

Rating: Teen

One shot, AU

You may also read this in AO3.

Lin scrabbled around the room, lifting objects and crouching under furniture. Apparently, searching for clothes appeared to be challenging if they were strewn haphazardly the night before.

Aha.

She crawled partially under the bed, taking care not to stay on the floor too long, to grab her shorts. Her top and underwear, meanwhile, she snatched from behind the lounge seat.

As she put on her underwear, she mused at how the past days went -her five days of independence in Ember Island.

It definitely was lovely, a nice escape from reality and the pressures of her life. She knew she had to make the most of it. It would not be long before the lackeys of her grandparents would find her.

Lin believed herself stealthy and crafty enough to escape Beifong manor undetected. She was proud to say that she did all that and managed to arrive at Ember Island without bribing anyone. She liked to think that she would have made a good criminal or detective if she were not born into the House of Beifong.

Poor Suyin. Her grandfather was sure to tighten security at home now. There was no way her younger sister would manage to have the same ‘liberties’ she had.

Lin snorted as she tied her hair up.

Not like there was a lot of freedom to begin with.

A groan came from the figure on the bed.

Lin hurried dressing up. It simply would not do to have to have that morning after conversation.

The man continued to slumber on, turning to his side, mouth open with a bit of drool at the corner of his lip.

She smiled at the view while she stuffed her other belongings into her satchel.

As much as she wanted for a repeat of the night before (and earlier that morning) and to run her fingers through his soft brown hair, the earthbender knew that her self-control would be tested. She was bound to end up not leaving at all. And that, she sighed at the memory of the pale wiry arms that were wrapped around her, would be catastrophic. There would have been no way for her to hide her identity if her family descends upon Ember Island.

After one final look, Lin Beifong slipped out of the hostel room of her technically three-night stand. She fled to the inn on the other side of the island to prepare for her trip back home.

It was unlike her to be reckless. But damn Agni, did she need this.

But, of course, her life being her life, her luck being her luck, little did she know that this act of rebelliousness would have its repercussions.

---

Tenzin bit his cheek to stop from furiously answering back. They were at the last leg of their diplomatic tour.

Tour.

He scoffed.

More like the Search.

As in the Search for a bride.

Correction – the Search for His Bride.

It was quite tedious, honestly. They have been at it for more than a year now. His father descended from the Air Nomads but this was amount of time on the road was ridiculous.

He did not mind travelling, honestly. He enjoyed it. The feel of the wind while using his glider or the sight of the clouds while on Oogi… In fact, the misguided yet hopeful part of him saw to it that he travelled at least monthly to Ember Island, in a bid to recreate the blissful memories of a past vacation (or rather, in a bid to try and meet the earthbender again, though he failed at spotting her every time).

On the other hand, travelling with his parents meant having a retinue composed of his father’s main advisory council and security. It was fine – for the most part. Accompanying his father during his diplomatic visits around the world was unique, educational and inspiring.

What he hated was that the advisors tended to barge in at all times of the day, leaving no respite for the family when they were on the road.

Right now, for example, Abbot Yuji was going on about the status of the Northern Air Temple.

His father is the Avatar and the one of two of the last airbenders so it was expected that this was well within the territory.

What was grating was how Abbot Yuji started to describe the temple and the lovely female air acolytes that populated it.

Having an acolyte from your Air Temple married off to the family of the Avatar? Outstanding. Having an acolyte from your Air Temple married to the only single airbender? Priceless.

He was getting frustrated at the blatant -.

“Stop frowning, Tenzin.” His mother whispered to him, leaning at his side. “You know Bumi underwent the same thing.”

Oho but no, Bumi did not.

The thought made Tenzin frown deeper.

Avatar Aang and Master Katara’s eldest son had gone ahead years ago and caused a scandal when he eloped in the Fire Nation capital. It was a love match.

Even Kya, the most free-spirited of the siblings, had discarded tradition, gotten engaged them wed to an air acolyte. It was also a love match.

Tenzin wanted the same, except, since apparently he was the only one left of his family bloodline to take over his father’s position in the Air Nation, it was close to impossible to form any lasting romantic entanglements.

There was a lot to take up, to get heavily involved in the Air Nation. To be fair, all of the children of the previously last airbender were equally exposed and poised to lead as part of their birthright. However, Bumi went on to be the consort of the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation. Then, just a few years ago, Kya agreed and, together with her wife, settled in the Southern Water Tribe to take up the mantle as the chosen heir of the late Chief, their Uncle Sokka.

That left him – Tenzin, the airbender.

The master airbender, his father would proudly introduce him – all shaved and tattooed. Despite the ceremony being a few months old, it all still felt fresh to him. It certainly felt odd to him to be shaven and so Tenzin had taken it upon himself to grow out a beard.

Anyone who would marry him would be part of the most powerful dynasties to date. His currently unmarried state was not due to the lack of prospects. And yet for some reason, his parents still saw it fit to keep going back to Gaoling.

Gaoling – which was the only city-state in the entire Earth Kingdom that had their nobles shun the Avatar and his family when they dropped by to visit last year.

Gaoling – where, coincidentally, was where they were a few miles in.

“Why do we keep going back here?” Tenzin turned to his mother once his father made his routine exit of the satomobile. Aang would usually leave the vehicle and go ahead of the convoy, using his glider to reach their destination earlier. “They don’t seem interested in meeting up with us anyway.” He was referring to the highborn family of the area.

Katara paused in the knitting she was working on. “Your father was almost betrothed to their daughter.”

This information took Tenzin aback. They all grew up hearing their parents’ epic love story. This was mainly why they had wanted the same for themselves. So, to hear that it was almost a different story was surprising.

Tenzin shook his head. “What happened?” He eyed the gates with the winged boar insignia the loomed nearer.

“Your father was going around at that time, seeking for support to campaign against the tyranny of the Fire Lord.” His mother tucked her yarn and work in progress in a weathered pouch. “It did not help his case that he had abandoned his role for years on, resulting in the Air Nomads being wiped out. There was a bit of bargaining and one of the conditions of Lao Beifong was to have the Beifong heiress wed Aang.”

Tenzin vaguely noted that the rest of their convoy turned left to the town proper while only their vehicle urged on forward.

The gong sounded from outside of the satomobile, announcing their arrival at the large ominous gate of Beifong estate.

“And then?” Tenzin prodded urgently as the gates opened and the satomobile crept slowly into the grounds of the Beifong family.

“Aang was weighing his options then when the younger Lady Beifong refused adamantly. We were turned away that same moment from the estate. In an unexpected turn of events, Toph Beifong saw it fit to defy her family and joined us. She became your father’s earthbending teacher.”

Tenzin’s eyebrows raised.

He had grown up to tales of his father’s bending masters. Only the blind earthbending master Toph, who became the world’s first metalbender, remained a bit of a mystery to him. For one thing, aside from the Monk Gyatso, he never met her. He only learned now that she has a surname.

There was a sense of anticipation now.

Maybe they will get to meet her in a few minutes?

Tenzin looked out the window. They were now parking in front of what looked to be a sprawling mansion. They have certainly made it further than they did in the last non-visit, where the guards did not even open the gates for them.

The metalbender was the stuff of legend. After having established a metalbending academy, Tenzin can find no trace of what happened to Toph Beifong.

So much was his anticipation that Tenzin did not notice the somber expression of his mother.

---

Lin sat in front of the dresser in her bedroom, silently watching as her grandmother’s maid finished tucking her thick black hair into a bun and placing the last strand of beads coiled around it. After ascertaining that she did not need any further help, the maid made herself scarce, stating she will be back once Lady Beifong called for Lady Lin’s attendance.

Lin blinked once at her reflection on the dresser mirror.

Twice.

She did not feel like herself.

She tilted her head.

She did not look like herself either.

If she were to be honest, the last time she truly felt like herself was the reprieve she had during her stolen time in Ember Island.

Breathing deeply, she reached for a tissue. Methodically, the young woman wiped off one side of her face, then the other.

She blinked again as the angry red marks on her cheek became visible.

---

A touch of his wife on his arm and Avatar Aang knew what she was asking.

It was unusual for none of the Beifongs to be standing in attendance to welcome their visitors.

Aang tucked his wife’s arm into his and patted it. He nodded to his son to follow.

Various household staff bowed to them as Aang led them deeper into the manor. Tenzin looked around curiously, keeping himself within hearing distance of his parents.

“Lord Beifong is in bad shape; he has been since the fire that broke out in the estate last year.” Aang finally shared.

Katara gasped in dismay, gripping Aang’s arm tightly. “And Lady Beifong?”

“She’s doing the best she could. She is…coping.”

“And their grandchildren?”

Aang shrugged weakly, stating he had not seen the grandchildren of the Beifongs yet.

“Is this why they are now considering the proposal…?” Katara trailed off, tossing a quick glance at their son who was seemed to be preoccupied by the framed portraits they were passing.

The Avatar nodded. “I had hoped it would be a joyous occasion, but this is what we’re dealt with.”

---

Tenzin clutched the warm teacup, looking into the dark tea in contemplation with what he had learned so far.

He sat at his parents’ side at the formal tearoom of the Beifongs, a silent participant and observer. Across them, Lady Poppy Beifong sat demurely, seemingly fragile and with the graceful bearing of someone born into the nobility. The airbender found it hard to believe that this woman gave birth to his father’s tough earthbending master.

Pleasantries were exchanged at the beginning and a stream of maids served them tea and an assortment of light snacks. His father shared about the different festivals across the nations that they had attended recently while his mother told stories about the flora they encountered during their trips. Even he was called upon to talk about the developments across the reconstruction of the Air Temples. Lady Beifong calmly spoke about the renovations in their estate, to revive the areas that the fire had touched.

After some obscure statements that were traded among the other people in the room, Tenzin was struck by the realization.

Toph Beifong was dead.

For how long – Tenzin tried to recall of portraits in the hallway – it must have been a long time ago as all of the portraits and photographs were quite dated.

Oddly enough, grandchildren (Toph’s children?) were mentioned and yet there were no photographs of them.

---

Lin tapped her fingers somewhat nervously on the armrests. She tried to get engrossed in the book she was reading, but her mind was not into it.

A few rooms down, her future was being decided, so much for being a young woman of independent means.

As expected, upon her return from Ember Island, Lin received the scolding of her life. Never mind that she was already in the twenties – running off on her own was unbecoming of a Beifong Lady.

Words were said. Lord Lao Beifong’s word was final and his granddaughter had no other recourse but to continue to submit to the duties of the Beifong heiress. The families that depended on their lands for a living were part of her responsibility. Both the Beifongs and their staff flourished under Lin’s attention. Lao was pleased with the profitability of their produce and in turn, with Lin. At least, until it became a Problem.

Once it became apparent, Lord and Lady Beifong cut down the number of their staff and security, locking once again the Beifong gates, unwelcome to any visitors. It was during this period when the Avatar and family had passed by for a diplomatic visit the year prior.

It was also in this situation, a few months later, did fire strike in the household. With the limited staff, it took a long time to get the fire under control. By then, her grandfather, who had been at the indoor arboretum at the time, had inhaled much of the smoke.

Lin and her sister had sought to pry open the gates of the arboretum that had gotten tighter during the fire. In a miscalculated move, metal shrapnel that Suyin fashioned out of her practice cables flew from her grasp and hit Lin as they both struggled to release their grandfather. Despite the blood dripping to her chin and Suyin’s teary apologies, Lin did not pause and endured the pain while working on metalbending the gates open.

They did succeed though Lord Beifong was not the same presence as he used to be.

Once assured that her grandfather would live, Lin endured one of the longest nights of her life.

Since then, changes as to how the household was run were made. Since then, Lin took it upon herself to manage the estate as penance. After all, if it were not for her situation, her reckless behavior, there would have been adequate support in the estate to prevent the fire from spreading.

Bringing herself back to the present, Lin stopped her woolgathering as the knock on the door signaled that her presence was wanted by her grandmother and her visitors.

With one last look, Lady Lin stood to meet with her prospective in-laws.

---

Tenzin waited in tense silence with his parents.

He knew the drill – they had done this song and dance numerous times with other noble families around the different nations. Discussions about potential courtships between him and the daughter, eliciting information about familial expectations and loyalties… Nonetheless, not a single marital agreement came about.

One word from him and his parents would cease and back off from the negotiation or pursuing the potential bride.

Today, however, sitting in the opulent tearoom in the Earth Kingdom while waiting for Lady Beifong and her granddaughter, felt different. There was something in the air, a history that seemed to tie the two families. Or at least, the Avatar and his earthbending master (who, Tenzin learned had quietly passed during the birth of her second daughter).

Click-click-clack-click-click-clack.

Lady Beifong’s shoes echoed at the corridor, followed by a softer set of steps.

The door slid open.

---

Lin kept her head bowed as she greeted the family of the Avatar.

A Beifong lady keeps her eyes averted. So, she did.

A Beifong lady keeps silent until spoken to. So, she did.

She sat down beside her grandmother, hands crossed on her lap, vaguely paying attention to the discussion.

That was why she was surprised to feel a cool hand touching her scarred cheek.

---

“…Introduce you to my granddaughter.”

Everything paused for Tenzin when Lady Beifong stepped aside to present the younger Lady Beifong.

He caught sight of her face.

Her eyes. He will never forget those eyes.

He went through the motions next, his body on autopilot as his mind brought up memories he frequently revisited.

Those eyes which crinkled in laughter when he dropped her in the sea.

Those eyes whose pupils dilated in the dark as he gripped her thighs high.

Those eyes which rested on his without judgment while he whispered his fears of not being a good enough bender for his parents.

Lin now sat before him, where he now found it easy to observe her.

Her face – her porcelain skin was slashed --- who could have done this, what could have happened?

He was barely aware of what he was doing, he reached out gingerly to touch –.

SLAP!

Lin looked at him aghast.

His parents and her grandmother faced them in alarm.

Lin stood up. “Excuse me, everyone, grandmother, may I be excused?” Without waiting for a response, she bowed and rapidly made her way out of the room.

“I-I-I,” Tenzin stammered, dazed. “I apologize I don’t know what came over me.” He motioned to follow. “I need to find Lin.” He bowed and went out as well.

---

It took them a few more minutes to recover from what happened.

And it took them several more to realize that they never did mention yet Lin’s name to Tenzin.

---

“Wait, Lin – I’m sorry – wait!” Tenzin managed to grab her arm when she turned at the end of the corridor.

Lin shrugged him off. “How dare you!” She gritted out, each word hard with controlled anger. “Just because I look like this,” She waved a hand in the direction of her scarred cheek. “I don’t fit the mold of the perfect debutant your parents might wish for you – you don’t have the right to -!”

“Lin, I’m sorry – and it’s… it’s me!” He placed his hand on his chest. “Tenzin, from the beach.”

“No, you’re not.” Lin stared at him.

“I’m Tenzin – from Ember Island, don’t you remember me?” He plodded on, almost desperately. Didn’t their encounter mean anything to her like it did for him?

“No, you’re not him.” Lin shook her head frantically. “Were you hired by grandmother? Suyin? This isn’t a funny joke.” Her voice rose a pitch with each sentence.

What.

Then it clicked.

Damn – his hair.

Maybe Bumi was right – his personality came with his hair.

“No, Lin, it really is me – I – I’m a master bender now.” He raised his hands up, showing the tips of the tattooed arrows.

---

Lin took a step back, finally taking in the man who was her potential betrothed.

It couldn’t be…could it?

He did sound and look like the Tenzin she met last year…

Then it clicked that it was him.

How could she not have recognized him when she had retreated to thinking about their time in Ember Island as an escape…

“Excuse me, Lady Lin? It’s his feeding time.”

Lin froze, almost regretting her instruction to the governess that she could interrupt whatever Lin was doing at any time. She swallowed thickly, ignoring Tenzin’s dumbfounded expression and plastered a smile on her face.

She turned to the governess who had been looking for her and reached out her arms to take the precious bundle for her.

“Hello, dear, are you hungry now?” Lin Beifong nuzzled the baby in her arms.

---

Footsteps clattered nearer to where they stood.

Lady Beifong, Master Katara and Avatar Aang came to a halt as they rounded the corner.

Lin, Tenzin and even the baby turned to face the new arrivals.

Tenzin leaned forward, gravitating towards the child, who blinked back at him with bright grey eyes.

“Sweetie,” Katara started cautiously. “Not to be anything but – don’t forget about propriety, don’t act too...familiar with them.” Her eyes darted towards the Beifongs and their staff, likely worried that any action might be turned against him and he would not escape the situation unscathed.

“I think I’ve done more than enough to be familiar with Lin, mother.” The airbender tickled the nose of the child, to the outraged gasp of Lady Beifong and the widened eyes of his mother.

“Ah-CHWOOOOSH!”

Silence fell on the group.

The baby giggled as he rubbed his nose.

Lin and Tenzin shared a look of awe.

Of all their trips to Gaoling, Avatar Aang could claim that this was his favorite.

The day he met his airbending grandson.

---

Avatar Aang and Master Katara’s children all grew up hearing their parents’ epic love story. This was mainly why they had wanted the same for themselves.

The eldest, Bumi eloped with his childhood sweetheart, the Fire Nation’s Crown Princess Izumi. It was a love match.

Their only daughter Kya married her air acolyte wife in a simple Southern Water Tribe ceremony. It was also a love match.

Their youngest child, Tenzin wed the mother of his child, Lady Lin Beifong of Gaoling. It was, as everyone concluded, also a love match.

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Note: And that's the end~. Love it or hate it - let me know!

#linzin #linzin fanfic #linzin2021 #lin beifong #tenzin

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angxlyxn · 3 years

Text

forever - eren x f. reader

summary: Eren comes bearing a gift for his love.

warnings: mentions of abuse, blood, descriptions of wounds/bruises, kidnapping, yandere content but its sorta soft(ish)

a/n: I wrote this for a friend, and I apologize if its ooc :/ I don’t know Eren’s character that well because this story is centered around older Eren (season four), and I haven’t read much of the manga.

word count: ~1.9k

How long had it been?

How many weeks had you been here, under his “care”?

Whether it was months or weeks, or maybe even years, you did not know. All you were able to discern was the cold tile beneath your body, as well as your stiff limbs that were spread out upon it. Your eyes fluttered open, lashes grazing against the bruise that sat comfortably on your left eye, the gradually yellowing mark feeling more like a brand than a black eye. You rubbed your restrained palms against each other in an attempt to create just a bit of heat for yourself, but all that you really accomplished was gaining a few more rope burns on your wrist. You shifted your bound ankles, trying to gain back any sense of mobility as you lay stagnantly upon the uneven flooring. Looking down at your legs, you saw the various bruises and lacerations dotting them, shades of violet, red, and yellow dancing over your previously spotless skin. Your glossy eyes were glazed over, about as void of life and awareness as your mind was. It was as though you had undergone infantilization since you had been with him, you had lost touch with reality and become so useless because of his insistence on doing everything for you. It made you sick just thinking about it. You hated feeling inept, and you despised the feeling of powerlessness. There was only one thing you hated more than these things though, and that was Eren.

Eren. His name felt far too familiar in your mind, the word a fleck of dirt upon your otherwise at ease brain. The boy who you used to be so close to, the little kid who couldn’t intimidate a fly even if he tried. You had gotten into your fair share of fights as a kid, but you always ended up being far too small to ever win any. With Eren, it was half and half. He would lose some, and win some. Most of the ones that he would win would be the fights which you would team up in, what with your stealthiness and his anger. That was one thing that certainly hadn’t ever changed about the boy. As a kid he was more direct, more predictable. His bouts of rage came in patterns, and you were usually able to subdue his more unsavory emotions relatively swiftly. But now, as one might be able to infer from the sorry state of your crippled body, he was erratic, his temper having turned years ago from formulaic and obvious to completely incalculable. You hated it. You hated everything about his personality. You hated him.

Although, you weren’t entirely sure if you could bring yourself to completely loathe the brunette. It truly was a complicated situation. Feelings of affection and fondness for him left over from your childhood were still persistently blooming within you, rising through your lungs and up your throat and choking you out. You could say that you hated him a million times over, scream it at the top of your lungs, but you weren’t sure if it would ever be true. It couldn’t be. A shred of the boy you used to know must still be within him, buried beneath layers and layers of cruelty and unfeeling. He had to be there. And when you think about his old self, his stable, grounded words and determined being, you cringe a bit whenever you so much as think about hating Eren.

You just couldn’t believe how much he had changed.

As if on cue, a lock clicked, and a stream of light shone over your body, the harsh brightness of the sun pooling around your form. A rough hum of approval echoed throughout the room, the tired voice bouncing off of the walls and flooding your mind, the simple sound somehow being enough to make your ears ring. Another click, this time the door being shut and bolted behind the tall brunette. Your body involuntarily shivered as he began to approach you, your frame jolting off the floor with each step he took. He crouched before you, his form nothing more than a silhouette in your tear-filled vision.

The boy placed what appeared to be a tissue-wrapped package down in front of you, shifting onto his knees and tilting his head at your tears. A calloused hand gripped your jaw gently, yet in a manner that still demanded your attention and obedience.

“Angel,” he murmured. He never talked much these days, with the exception of whenever he got angry. “I went into town.”

You finally brought yourself to look up at him, shifting awkwardly until you had propped yourself up against the wall behind you. You hesitantly gazed at him with glassy eyes, your expression inquisitive and slightly pained.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, the only sound being the methodical ticking of the grandfather clock that sat in the corner of the otherwise desolate cabin which you were stuffed away in. He averted his eyes, breaking eye contact with you in favor of looking down at the package that he had brought in. He mumbled something under his breath about money as he nudged the parcel towards you, retrieving a small switchblade from his pocket after doing so. At the sight of the glinting blade you began to shuffle away from him, your bare feet catching on the billowy dress that Eren had picked out for you and scraping pathetically against the floor.

Before you could get too far, however, he grabbed your shoulder, his scarred fingers wrapping around your creamy arm with an iron-clad grip. He pulled you forward with a great force, causing you to tumble onto your stomach and fall before him, face pressing uncomfortably into the flooring beneath you. He wrestled with your hands, pulling them in towards one another and grasping your wrists together. You squirmed feverishly under his grip, wondering what you had done to make him want to hurt you. Bracing yourself for the pain, you squeezed your eyes shut and kicked your legs pitifully as you felt the blade grow closer to your arms.

However, all you felt was the release of your wrists, oxygen hitting the open gashes that had formed all over your lower arms as a result of rope burn. As he brought his blade back into his chest, the tip of it nicked the side of your forehead, which was still pressed down into the ground. Tears sprung from eyes as a bit of blood poured from the wound, the crimson substance dripping down your face and mingling with your crystal tears.

“Sit up,” he said as he looked down upon you. You complied with a bit of irresolution, your body faltering as you shifted to sit, using your numb hands to shove against the stony tiles. After you had resituated yourself, he grasped both of your hands between his. You flinched away, pulling your hands into your chest at the foreign feelings of his warm palms against yours.

He glared at your action, eyes darkening over and brow furrowing in contempt.

“Y/n,” he said in a warning voice. “Hands. I went to the trouble of getting something for you. Let me give it to you. Please, my love.”

You reached out your hands to him, allowing the brunette to grasp your small fists between his disproportionately large ones, pressing the package tenderly into your hands as he did so. Tentatively, you allowed yourself to gaze down at the parcel, your eyes drifting over the slightly crinkled tissue paper. One of your fingers grazed over the gift, pulling the tissue up from one side of it to reveal a gleaming object. You tore open the rest of the package, the silence filling the room still incredibly deafening.

Words still did not find you as you revealed the gift, which was a small brass hair clip with a metal flower fastened to the end. You discarded the tissue, instead opting to hold the barrette loosely, the cool iron brushing up against your warmed hands. You averted your eyes as you felt his palms come into contact with yours once more, grasping the hair clip and twisting it between his slim digits.

You felt a bit of hair being moved from your vision, the tangled locks effectively pushed out of your face by your captor, who only gave a small smile as he readjusted your tresses. He clipped the barrette onto your hair, the heavy clip pulling slightly against your scalp after he let go. He leaned back, his eyes shifting from jaded to soft, pupils dilating and lids opening a bit as he drank in your appearance, which couldn’t have been pleasant. Weeks without being let out of your binds had caused some dirt to clump in your hair, and your face had surely become weathered and deadened.

Yet he still looked at you as though you were God himself, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You reckon that Eren used to look up to you when you both were younger, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly every time he would come into contact with you. But this was different. While you were in the Survey Corps, combat training with him always consisted of him holding back on fights that should have been balanced and him murmuring something about ‘not wanting to break you’. You always took it with a grain of salt, thinking he was just being cocky by restraining himself, but it seems you were wrong, on more than one account. It was now apparent that he seemed to think of you as some prized possession, one that was “far too good for the outside world”, as he would say.

He still hurt you though. “Even Goddesses need to be kept in check” was always what he said as he cut into your skin, or hit you around whenever he had a particularly shitty day. Honestly, his treatment of you was far more confusing than it was cruel.

But maybe it was better that way.

You were brought back from your thoughts by the feeling of something rubbing against your cheek, namely Eren’s hand. He brought his fingers up to your eyes, brushing away the tears that sat upon your lashes, and then the blood that had dripped down your face. His touch mingled the two substances together, painting the skin on your face with a shade of watery red as he dragged his digits down your cheeks.

Pulling his hands away, he looked at your uncomfortable form, your quivering lips and shaking hands making their presence far too obvious.

Yet he still looked upon you gently, his mouth twisting upwards into a smile.

“You’re always so beautiful for me,” He said, his words impassioned, yet soft.

“I’m so glad that I get to have you, forever.”

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

The Little Ways You Say I Love You ||Demetri Volturi x Reader||

Summary: Demetri is well aware how fragile humans can be and needs a little reminder that to touch you isn’t to kill you. Loving a vampire isn’t easy, but you find a way to compromise that suits both your needs.

Warnings: None, for once it’s nice and fluffy

Words: 4071

There were certain things humans did that were very endearing. The way you scrunched your nose for example when you were confused or showing your distaste for something, and that sweet way you snuggled down into your duvet when you slept. It was also incredibly cute how excited you got when exploring somewhere/something new, eyes shining as you bounced about. Your sleepy confusion when you first got up or had been up too long, your sweet little sneezes and sniffles when the flowers in the garden invaded your nose, your habit of fidgeting – it was all still so new to him and Demetri would be lying if he said he didn’t find it absolutely adorable. Your humanity was something he had originally not batted an eye at – you were going to be a vampire in the end after all so what was the point – until you had started showing these little traits that left him falling a little harder for you every time he saw them. Then, of course, there were the downsides to mortality.

You got sick. You couldn’t go without eating lest you become sluggish and nauseated. You sometimes had nightmares when you slept and terrified him when you woke with a gasp or a scream. Your skin turned shades of black, yellow and blue when you hit your limbs off of inanimate objects - and Felix’s abdomen but you had both sworn a pact to never tell Demetri that was how your knuckles had ended up bruised – that Demetri never seemed to be able to steer you clear of despite his speed. If you tripped or hit them just right your skin also, heaven forbid, tore like tissue paper, tempting him with your sweet sweet blood. He was grateful that didn’t happen as often as you added to your collection of bruises. He was also well aware of how fragile your bones were, susceptible to shatter from the slightest pressure. In short, all the things he found so endearing could very easily be wiped out by illness, injury, and the common flaw of mortality that was, simply, that it wasn’t built to last.

Demetri was painfully aware of all of these things when it came to you, having accidentally left his fingerprints on your wrist for days after trying to make sure you didn’t step into the way of an oncoming car once. He had felt awful; it was almost painful to watch how slowly your skin faded back to it’s normal colouring, and he’d honestly had no idea you’d get so sick when he ran with you for the first time, feeling immensely guilty as he dared not put his hands on your heaving form lest he make it any worse. It was a pattern you’d noticed for a few weeks now and you hated it. Demetri had been nothing but good to you from the day you’d met him, a bit dismissive at first perhaps but very attentive when it came to your needs so you were never uncomfortable in your new home. You’d not had much choice once you’d been pulled from the tour group but to stay with him, especially after hearing the screams you should have been contributing to – nobody of sound mind would let you go with what you knew.

It was very obvious that Demetri had never really expected to meet you, and the sudden appearance of his mate had left him at a bit of a loss, especially when he realised you were human. You could almost see inside his mind in the early days as he watched you explore your new home with a mystified but doting expression, looking very much like a parent watching their child toddle about after finding their feet for the first time. What do I do with a human? The answer was very simple and you let him know soon enough, that if he expected you to fall hopelessly in love with him then you’d like to see the real him doing things he loved. He’d taken you out a lot after that, having to learn to balance your need for rest with his fun-packed dates. In all that time, from the first moment he’d accidentally bruised you (and consequently saved you from the wrath of a very angry Italian woman who was clearly in a hurry that day) pulling you out of the way of that car, he’d not touched you since.

You weren’t expecting the world from him, you knew it took a lot of self-control for him to even be near you some days, but you were only human. You were never one of those people who preferred their own company and had grown up in a family were physical touch was common place, whether it be from hugs or from cousins poking you constantly, you naturally craved physical contact and Demetri seemed to naturally withhold it. You knew it was out of fear for your safety, and you didn’t want to force him to spend long hours snuggling with you or do anything extravagant if it meant putting him through any sort of discomfort, but would it really kill him to hold your hand when you went out and about to places? Was it really the end of the world if he gave you a brief hug when you were upset? He seemed to think you’d collapse if he so much as breathed on you, or at least, that’s how it felt.

At first it had just been a bit annoying. It was a quirk of his you’d tried to learn to live with until it began to wear you down some. You had been given a three-month grace period to settle in, and time was very quickly passing you by. The longer it went on the less desirable you felt. Logically you were well aware your thinking was stupid, that Demetri was refraining from touching you for any other reason than simply wanting to ensure he didn’t hurt you, but the lack of contact forewent all logic to that lingering anxiety that perhaps your human self wasn’t enough to attract him. Maybe he didn’t want to touch you. You’d subconsciously tried dressing a little nicer and being a little more flirty just to see if it would encourage him to touch you, even if it was just his hand on your arm briefly, and you were disappointed to find that it didn’t work.

He’d been on a mission for his masters for the last few days, leaving you alone to wallow in your thoughts. You’d been lonely with all your usual friends gone from the castle and you knew full well you couldn’t expect him to greet you with a hug when he returned, though he would, in his own way, still greet you warmly. Vampires, you had learned, were eerily quiet, though you supposed they had no reason to be loud, so consequently when they weren’t around to make conversation with the castle was silent. Creepily silent. In an effort to chase away that silence, you’d turned to music. Demetri’s quarters were on the floor reserved specifically for the high-ranking guardsmen, and since they were all out there would be no Jane to pound on the door and demand you turn it down, or Felix shouting from his own room that her taste in music was horrible.

So you cranked the volume up.

High.

Then turned it back down because Caius’s face had unwittingly entered your mind and he looked even more irritated with you than usual.

After a few minutes of altering the volume to what you considered the optimum level, you finally settled back onto the sofa with the intention of just enjoying the music as you continued to read one of Demetri’s many books. By the bottom of the first page you were tapping your toe along to the beat. By the bottom of the third you were bobbing your head. By the time you hit page number five you were bopping side to side in your seat. You had abandoned your book entirely by page number seven in favour of grabbing the TV remote and using it as microphone, and you had an absolute blast. You imagined yourself on stage, a thousand adoring hands reaching for you as you sang your heart out and danced around the room, switching between air guitars and pillow dance partners. You could practically feel the way your mood shifted, the beginnings of your sulking long gone as your face flushed and your smile widened, nothing but the light, euphoric love for good music filling you from head to toe.

Then the ultimate karaoke song came on, and you squealed in delight as you uncaringly turned the music up far louder than you knew any of the ancient masters would like. You danced about the room, trotting like a pony and waving your arms to the beat as the intro played itself out, and then your microphone lifted, the fans went wild and you turned to point at them all, only to freeze. Demetri’s vibrantly red eyes were filled with mirth, his lips spread into a wide grin as he stood in the doorway, cloak draped over his arm. Mouth frozen open, you took a moment to feel the sheer horror at being caught red-handed.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” He insisted, turning to hang his cloak up on the coat stand near his door. It hung neatly beside your own jacket and coat. He looked unfairly good considering he’d probably crossed hundreds of thousands of miles on foot in the past few days, not a hair out of place and pearl white teeth gleaming at you. You, on the other hand, were flushed bright red, hair falling in your eyes thanks to your dancing knocking it out of your neat style, and probably sweating a little.

“You…are back.” You said. Demetri tilted his head slightly, discarding his jacket next and rolling up the sleeves of his button up shirt.

“I am back.” He confirmed. You bit your lip, your embarrassment lingering still as he crossed to turn the music down slightly, to a more bearable volume for his sensitive ears.

“I missed you.” You told him honestly, fingers itching. You wanted to reach for him but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Demetri seemed to sense your change in attitude, his amusement fading and being replaced instead by something that seemed to be an odd mix of confusion and concern. He came to stand before you, hand almost reaching for your arm before he retracted it.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you my love, you looked like you were having fun.” He said. You couldn’t quite bring your eyes to move from his hand, the hand that had almost answered your silent prayers, that had very almost touched you. He’d been gone for three days, would he really deny you the contact you wanted if you were just honest with him?

“I was.” You agreed softly, tossing your remote control microphone aside and trying to pluck up the bravery to just do it. His hand was right there, loose and open. You could easily slip your palm against his. What was the worst that could happen? Well he could always snatch his hand away and reaffirm your ridiculous beliefs about being undesirable in every way shape and form but, what were the odds of that? You quickly stopped letting yourself think when your brain tried to work out the statistics.

“I need to shower, you’ll have some more time to yourself while I’m in there if that’s what you would like.” He assured you. You shook your head immediately, the last thing you wanted was for him to leave you so soon after he’d just gotten back. You took a breath and quickly reached for his hand, looking up at him with pleading eyes while he visibly stiffened at your touch.

“Dance with me?” you pleaded. Demetri’s crimson irises flickered to your joined hands briefly, his grip was non-existent, and you could almost feel him trying to pull away. Your heart quietly shattered.

“I’m not entirely sure how you would dance to this music.” He admitted. It wasn’t a resounding no at least and he still hadn’t forced you to let go. You bit your lip, a small flicker of hope igniting in your chest that must have shown on your face.

“Please try?” you asked, slowly lifting your joined hands so you could twirl beneath his arm. Demetri’s grip remained awfully loose and he almost seemed to flinch when you reached for his other hand, carefully moving your arms back and forth, hips swinging. You had no clue what you were doing either, you were simply compiling dance moves one on top of the other with no rhyme or reason, speeding up as you went. It was…honestly hilarious. Your discontent was very quickly forgotten seeing the effort Demetri was putting into this ridiculous dancing for you. His movements were gracefully awkward, his vampirism not letting him look stupid despite the fact that he very clearly should given the mismatched way his top and bottom halves were moving. You giggled at him and Demetri shot you a playful glare in response.

“What? You think this is funny? I am the height of trendy. My moves are so fashionable they’re ahead of their time.” He teased, letting you go in favour of pulling a ridiculous John Travolta pose, his head bobbing as he did the classic disco moves you were sure the human race had tried to bury in the film Footloose. You laughed, happily mimicking him with far less grace as the pair of you utilised the space in your room to full advantage. Demetri made no attempt to stop you whenever you grabbed him, your smile only widening whenever he let you take his hand to twist him one way or spin yourself about the next. You were exhausted, barely able to breathe through your laughter when you inevitably tripped over your own feet, colliding with his chest as the cliché moment demanded.

Panting and still giggling to yourself you were completely unaware he even had his arms around you until you tried to pull back and found yourself trapped in his embrace. Your giggles stopped abruptly, the shock clogging up your throat. With wide eyes, you looked up at him, slowly lifting your own arms to wrap back around him as he stared down at you with the most soft, vulnerable expression you’d ever seen on him. He looked entirely uncertain, his arms not quite loose but not tightly wrapped around your body either, as if he was fighting with himself to simply keep hold of you.

“Demetri…” you whispered. It was all you had wanted now for weeks, and here you were finally, home. There was a sense of contentment growing within you the longer he held you, a rightness that his embrace offered that made it feel like he’d locked all of your troubles and insecurities outside of the little bubble he’d created. You snuggled closer, determined to make the most of it while it lasted, but quickly felt guilty for the selfish move when he stiffened, muscles rigid with tenseness. “I’m sorry.” You said, attempting to squirm backwards out of his grasp. He let go immediately, his eyes widening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked immediately, eyes a little frantic.

“No!” you groaned, sounding more exasperated than you wanted to. Demetri frowned, picking up on it and looking equal parts confused and wounded. You sighed, crossing to the speaker and turning it off. The silence between you was deafening for a long moment as you organised your thoughts, trying to figure out what to say to him next.

“What’s wrong my love?” he asked quietly, “Please, talk to me.” He looked so earnest, like he really wanted to listen and figure out how to fix the problem. He was like a big puppy sometimes, desperate to give you love but unsure how to do it in an acceptable way. It made your heart ache and your cheeks flush simultaneously because you knew it was really your own problem, your own silly insecurities. Playing with your fingers, you ducked your gaze and took a deep breath, exhaling in a huff before looking back up at him.

“I need you to know you’re not going to hurt me just by touching me.” You said finally, “I’m not made of glass Demetri, I’m not going to shatter at the slightest touch.” Demetri’s brows tugged down into a frown.

“I am very capable of hurting you my love, I’m only careful with you to avoid that.” He answered.

“But you don’t avoid that, you avoid me.” You retorted, eyes dropping to the floor again, “I know you mean well and I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with but…isn’t there a way to compromise? Something little we could do that just, that makes me feel like…” you stumbled over the words, knowing they’d hurt him greatly. Demetri was nothing if not dedicated to you and to suggest he wasn’t was practically blasphemy.

“Like…”he prompted. You swallowed, risking a quick glance up at him and feeling your stomach curl at the anxious expression on his face.

“Like you actually want me.” You said softly. The way his entire expression crumpled made you feel intensely guilty, so much so you felt tears spring to your eyes. You forced yourself to blink them back. You’d had such a good afternoon, you’d been laughing together without a care in the world not ten minutes ago and you’d just had to go and spill your guts to ruin it hadn’t you? You really hadn’t been expecting his cold hand to envelope yours, his eyes watching your expression carefully as he tested the smallest amount of pressure he could possibly exert to tighten his grip on your palm.

“I am careful with you because of how badly I want you.” He said, his voice quiet and earnest, “Please believe me, it was never my intention to make you feel undesirable. I still can’t honestly say I feel entirely comfortable with the idea of embracing you but…maybe, we could start with this?” he suggested, lifting your hands slightly. Your heart swelled, eye shining as you stared down at his fingers curled around yours, relished in the strangely warm coolness of his skin. You nodded earnestly.

“Please. I’m happy with just this.” You promised, squeezing his hand lightly. Demetri sucked in a breath.

“Are you sure?” he questioned. You nodded vigorously, unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face. You hadn’t wanted the world from him, just a small amount of contact comfort every now and then. Demetri looked utterly relieved you weren’t pushing him further, quietly content with his own brave leap.

“I’m sure…didn’t you need a shower?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. His lips twitched into the smuggest little smirk you’d ever seen on him.

“Maybe I’m not done holding your hand?” he suggested.

“Then maybe you can keep on holding it?” you smiled.

Demetri kept true to his word to, trying his best to introduce a little bit of physical contact throughout your day. He kept it at hand holding for a while, slowly testing the waters with a hug or two here and there. He had developed a nice little system of taps for his worse days, where the fear he’d hurt you was just a little too much, and you came to cherish the small but meaningful touch between you both that only the two of you ever understood.

Suddenly, three months were up. Demetri had prepared you well for what you’d face during the change theoretically, but nothing he could have said or done would have ever prepared you for the sheer agony of it all. You burned constantly, a raging inferno consuming every cell and every fibre of your being. You dared not scream though. You knew better than anyone how deep his fear of hurting you ran, that the anxiety in his eyes when he had pulled his teeth from your skin was nothing to do with whether or not you’d make it but had everything to do with the fact he knew he was causing you an intense, immeasurable amount of agony. He had never wished to do that at all, so you pursed your lips so hard your teeth cut your lips and you tasted blood, determined not to make him feel any worse for this than he probably already felt. Your fortitude was admirable all things considered and every time you envisioned Demetri’s heartbroken face it was renewed, your lips clamping once more after the agony had slowly worn them down and loosened the seal holding back your screams.

By the time the fire rescinded, you were so ready for it to be over you had considered, selfishly, begging for Alec to take the pain away, Demetri be damned. You went from the odd sensation of floating on fire to being lowered deeper and deeper in a cool lake, soothing the ache and the burn that had ravaged your body. Once the cold lake had stole your breath, you were catapulted to the surface, and your eyes snapped open. You were acutely aware of every little detail surrounding you. You could count the threads in the curtains surrounding the four-poster bed you lay on, trace the grooves in the wooden bed frame with your eyes. You could feel every stitch in the duvet beneath you, the softness of the interwoven threads leaving you in awe. Then there was the sound, the far off sounds of something scurrying in the castle gardens, of people talking and laughing, of music. Your nose twitched to life then to, a mixture of fruit and flora and cologne and fresh breeze and –

“Y/N?”

Your head snapped right, lip curling back over your teeth as a warning growl slipped up from your chest and rumbled in your throat. It took you a fraction of a second to place the features of the man before you, the dark red eyes, the sharp jawline, the chestnut brown hair…

“Demetri.” You said, blinking in shock at your new, melodic voice. He chuckled slightly, but his eyes remained somewhat sad. He was in awe of you as you zoomed to an abrupt stop in front of him, giggling at your newfound speed like a child, but there was something in his eyes that spoke of an intense amount of guilt you had trouble placing. His hand was soft and warm against your cheek, nothing like the cool temperature you were used to feeling from his flesh, but you leaned into his touch regardless, surprised he’d so willingly given it. Then you remembered, you were a lot more durable now, weren’t you? He was far less afraid of breaking you and probably more wary that if you weren’t careful, you could break him. You almost flinched, the sudden, intense stab of terror that you might accidentally crush him both ironic and bringing a level of understanding you’d struggled with before.

“I am…awestruck. You are magnificent my love,” He said, voice soft and wistful, “Can you forgive me?” Forgive him? Your face fell into a frown? Forgive him for what? For changing you? You’d already forgiven him for taking you out of that tour group long ago, happy beyond belief to be with your mate and not six feet under somewhere, even if you did miss home. You felt it even more acutely now, how right it was to be with him, to be near him, to be touched by him. You decided whatever he wanted forgiveness for didn’t matter. You wouldn’t even ask him to qualify what he meant. This was a fresh start for both of you now and you were ready to take it, to start eternity with him by your side. So, you reached up to the hand cradling your face and gently tapped the back of his hand twice. Demetri’s lips twitched, and they pulled higher and higher until his face had split into an adoring smile.

There were many things he had found endearing about your humanity, but the little ways you said I love you were perhaps his favourite.

#Demetri Volturi x reader #Demetri Volturi Fanfiction #Demetri Volturi imagines #demetri #volturi #volturi fanfiction #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #x reader #volturi x reader #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader

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bluebellravenbooks · 3 years

Text

An Oxford tour with His Dark Materials: part 2

As an overly enthusiastic Oxford resident, I was delighted by the latest HDM episode. Here are my thoughts and comments on the city as shown in the series. Today I'll fangirl about the city museums; you can find part 1 with the introduction to Oxford here.

After wandering the streets of Oxford with Will, unsuccessfully trying to find her Jordan College (and actually visiting the prototype of Jordan in the books, which is Exeter), Lyra notices a poster for an Arctic exposition and heads to the museum. This beautiful building houses the Natural History Museum, which has, along with many other things, the last remains of soft tissue of dodo (this made dodo a sort of a local Oxford symbol and a subject of humorous folklore).

(Pro tip for when the pandemic ends: there is a cafe on the balcony with a magnificent view of the room. From up there you can see that every column is topped with a different leaf pattern - the level of detail in this building is just beyond comprehensible.)

Lyra has to cross this room to get to her destination - the Pitt Rivers Museum of anthropology.

Now, this is easily one of my favourite places in the world, and the show actually gives a pretty true-to-life idea of how it feels - except you can't see that all the drawers are stuffed with objects as well, and there are two more levels on the balconies above the main floor.

Lyra stops near a display of traditional waterproof coats made from animal intestines - interestingly, in the first book she wore one of those during her trip to the North, while in the TV series it was obviously changed to something pretty that wouldn't keep her alive in the real North for a day. (Booo to that costume choice from someone who has seen real winter, and who thinks that the traditional costumes are actually cool.)

Having consulted the alethiometer (there are some objects in Pitt Rivers that look very similar to it, by the way), Lyra walks past this display of creepy wooden statues. Yes I can affirm that they are just as creepy in real life, but also actually very, very cool. This thing is a donation box - called "Antropologists' Fundraising Ritual" - and it has little statutes of some of the original collectors who contributed to the museum, made by the artist from sustainable and discarded materials. There's an amazing level of detail in these statues - one of the anthropologists even has a tiny cat that she used to take on her trips, using the cat as a cultural ice-breaker. When you walk past, these statues move and jingle menacingly and their eyes light up, and if you drop a coin into the slot they bow (while jingling just as menacingly).

I love this thing with all my heart. If I ever manage to do something with my research, please let me be commemorated like this.

The displays are organised in a unique way in Pitt Rivers - not by counry or century, but solely by topic. For example, you can see the Writing display behind Boreal, and there are others such as Animal Forms, Human Forms, Music and so on. While this looks like a museum curator's worst nightmare, this also makes for an amazing viewing experience, allowing you to compare and see patterns in a way that's just not feasible if objects are distributed across three floors.

Lyra and Boreal contemplate some skulls. This is a good point to add that, of course, being a British anthropology museum, Pitt Rivers is miles away from unproblematic. While some of the objects have well-traced and ethical history of acquisition, many others belong to the cultures that have lost a lot, and there's a strong argument that they need their cultural objects more than a museum does. From what I know, Pitt Rivers looks at returning objects on a case-by-case base, but they always return human remains if they have been requested. Which is a start, of course, but there are still tons of colonialst baggage here.

One of the most popular displays in the museum had the famous "shrunken heads" - I think that's the very case that Lyra is looking at; very recently a decision was made to remove them from the public view. Pitt Rivers is trying to deal with the colonial heritage issues, and I respect that a lot; however in this particular case I felt that their messaging came across wrong. Surely studying the objects and presenting them in a more thoughtful way, providing context and information, promoting the discussion of past mistakes, is better than just hiding them away? However I'm very aware that I'm not an expert in this field, and that culture/colonialism/museums discussion is a complicated one, so I won't say more on this - for the interested among you, this has been covered quite extensively in local news.

To finish on a lighter note, I'll add some of my own pictures of these museums, so that you can appreciate their (somewhat ethically controversial but still extremely interesting) beauty:

Next up: the last part of the episode, some stunning aerial views of Oxford and the disappointingly fake Botanic Garden :)

#booklr #reading #his dark materials #movie locations #literary locations #philip pullman #oxford #museums #anthropology #pitt rivers #natural history #culture #colonialism #the subtle knife #my pictures #original post #history #academia #science

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yngai · 3 years

Text

one of the main reasons ada has survived this long working on her own ( outside her predisposition to manipulate people into doing her job for her, a paradoxical method of both minimising & maximising risk ) is that she essentially became her own handler / IT support . while she necessitated such aid early on in her career, especially during her time at umbrella, a naturally precarious mission which required years of preparation on part of umbrella’s rival corporations as well as several fellow spies implanted within the company that made way for ada’s hiring an assistant researcher in the arklay laboratory . the death of her handler by his own hand, discovered upon her arrival at their agreed meeting point at the apple inn, despite her securing a sample of the g-virus ( or scraping a tissue fragment off william birkin’s corpse depending on route or adaption ), the sudden, brief release from her dependency on his guidance + the organization during her espionage only reinforced a core aspect of her personal philosophy, that of all people in this world, the only person she can ever rely on is herself .

of course, albert wesker came to her rescue, but his gloved hand was an underhanded offer & even back then, before they would become rival agents of the organization, she knew all he saw in her was just another card in his deck, easily shuffled out when she is no longer of any use . it was an offer she couldn’t refuse & did little to dissuade her belief in self-reliance . it only bolstered it, truly, for when she will find herself in a situation like this again, if she even allows herself that uncertainty overcasting her life, her exit will be assured far in advance . if albert wesker was to treat her as a stepping stone for his own ambitions, she would only do so in return & their animosity grew from that initial meeting, an impersonal video call amidst a dying city .

ada wong’s shift in persona, from a scared woman trying to survive the hell of raccoon city, grasping at straws & desperate manipulations all in the vein hope of survival, to the fully realised spy whose status within the criminal underworld was akin to legend, was a multi-step process which the organization facilitated as her success retrieving secretive data & virus samples from within umbrella’s own, most well-guarded facilities was a display of realised promise, scouted for her talents & interests by the organization just as she had earned her degree . a strong foundation, natural talent, myriad potential careers ahead of her, an interest in the filed & a pretty face, beneath a burning determination to make something of herself . she was the perfect candidate & eager to commit to the life of an actress without audience, a lifelong dream without the one setback that halted it early on . she became a guarantee of completed missions of even greater importance to their goal of overthrowing their competitor’s hold on the pharmaceutical industry & the development of biological weapons of war, an entrée into a lucrative black market that would follow when umbrella’s trade secrets make their way into criminal hands .

she was an asset & fully aware of it, but left scarred & bleeding after setting two feet in hell . weak, bruised & fearful beyond imagination, there was a purpose here which she clung tightly onto, not the organization or their goals, she held no belief in them beyond wanting to see umbrella burn, but a chance to become something greater, something better . like the woman painted in the legends told about her, infinitely capable, deeply calculating, twirling the world on her finger . it would come at a cost, as all such matters often do, personal & moral in equal measure . too much of a danger for her to return home, a risk that the few people she cared for most would become a liability in her life as a spy & she would much rather they think her dead . allying herself with the organization’s heart will paint her in colours likened to umbrella, but the rest of the world does not often consider the reputation of a dead woman & in the long run it would not matter anyway, she was not planning on sticking around .

ada agreed to pay that price in full & thus, was given further training to account for how umbrella’s evil would mutate in the coming years, taken new, far worse forms as it exchanged shadowy hands . though the organization could only provide so much, training ada as an H.C.F. field operative with only few additions to account for her personal conduct, lacking certain skills which instrumental to her survival which she sought to teach to herself. while there are many facets to account for in the transition between ada’s initial equipment & skill-set in resident evil 2, compared to her much different, twice kidnapped notwithstanding, effortless professionalism displayed in 4 ( i went over her physical development in a brief ramble in the tags here ), i should probably return to origin & discuss her ability as a hacker . a talent she picked up quickly, almost second nature, coding her own malicious software, exploiting vulnerabilities within well guarded digital systems . already quick on her feet & adaptable, fast thinking translating from perilous situations to the computer screen, ada found hacking to be akin to the act of manipulation, finding & using a vulnerability against your target . people & their personalities were systematised within her mind, like code, their wants & desires, their history, all absorbed & accounted for to predict every future movement . not a perfect process, her own prejudices get in the way of fully perceiving others, her cynicism resulting from a sense of helplessness & of everyone else, she will never have access to her own code . she understands, she infers, she consumes information at a rapid pace & sometimes that is enough but she is not above making mistakes, pitfalls of her own mind & they each cost her .

during raccoon city, her closest equivalent was the EMF visualizer, introduced in the remake but a piece of tech i rather enjoy as a callback(?) to her future abilities in regards to computers while being deceptively simple & fitting for the 1998 setting . a fairly self-explanatory, rudimentary piece of technology that detects & interacts with the electromagnetic field generated by moving currents, though it is more apt at doing so with the force created by an electric field as opposed to a magnetic one, as the former is much stronger that the latter . it allows its user to scan & interact with circuitry by directing charges within an electric system, or short-circuiting any point along it . while referred to as hacking in-game, it bares very little resemblance to the real deal & quite limited . it was a portable, small-scale EMP generator that disrupts low-level electronics & can cause more complicated tech to, essentially, glitch ( thus bypassing NEST’s identification system ) . ada used it to destroy intake fans in raccoon city’s sewers, primarily & any access to umbrella’s internal database was acquired through her position as an assistant researcher before her credentials were erased &, would there be anything above her clearance level, the ID & passwords swiped off of dr. john clemens & dr. annette birkin, respectively . john, of course, was far more willing to part with his than annette, both because of his infatuation with ada & his plan to leak arklay’s darkest secrets to the world .

with the evolution of technology, the dawn of the information age &, i suppose, the slight discrepancy in its advancement between the ressie universe & reality ( though a lot of what we consider groundbreaking today was developed years prior for military use before going public, meaning both umbrella & the organization would have rather easy access to such advancements quite early ), ada’s only necessity in regards to cyber-security was a computer connected to whatever secure, private network she wanted to break into . for example, a pair of smart-glasses outfitted with such that are convenient, portable & fashionable, able to discharge a non-lethal explosive, the equivalent of a stun grenade, if activated . used to scan an encroaching environment, any digital system she wishes to interact with &, in certain instances, as the eyes & ears of anyone overseeing her mission from afar . hardly a replacement for a proper computer, but a useful tool nonetheless & easy to discard for fear of her tampering being tracked . as technology develops even further, ada does upgrade from bulky laptops to tablets, to phones & whatever permutations they might take in future, a weird cube . her abilities as a hacker, tied to a fictionalised rendition of the practice for the fun of it, grow with the tech & tie directly into how she becomes her own handler . information is a currency, after all, & before every mission ada does extensive reconnaissance on the people & places she will be tasked with visiting, sometimes relying on a web of contacts around the world formed after years of spy-work . anything too secretive & too hidden is relegated to field discovery, as she would rather her targets not be on alert after a potential cyber-attack . she prefers it this way, while she always steps into a new mission with an exit strategy already meticulously planned, there is fun & risk to be had in being physically present for a grand revelation & she never passes up the chance for that thrill . after the organization succumbs to internal conflict & she sets the stage to work freelance, ada begins carrying herself through her objectives & any outside help, predominantly in regards to transport & accommodation, different missions requiring different resources, is given to her by her various employers . a sort of guarantee, an advanced payment, if you will, though she is not above taking those in cash just as well . using any resource at her disposal, what is provided willingly, what is not, the people she encounters throughout her life, all to ensure her success, her survival .

a fun little headcanon to end on : between missions, ada has taken up a little side-project that blurs the line between work & leisure . leaking sensitive information between rival companies & criminal organizations only to sit back & watch them destroy each other, or to a hungry press looking for the next big story, satiating a starving public seeking explanation for the continuous state of disarray . gray hat hacking to pass the time, if you will . she isn’t looking to make waves, she takes no credit for her tampering, would be poor form for a woman wrapped in mystery, & rarely strikes businesses with an international reach, where the real damage is done . its merely a way to pull strings & watch the world spin, a performance she enjoys viewing from afar .

#* file // : OOC — ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐄 . )#* file // : 004 — ( 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 . )#* file // : 005 — ( 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 . )#this was originally just gonna be about ada's ability to hack things but once again i go on a nightmare tangent #i feel fucking insane what even is this supposed to be #just nonsense word vomit #sorry guys i can't be helped #sad brag #etc.#😭😭😭#ada wong is an epic girlboss

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ichigo-daifuku · 4 years

Text

Mammoney

Obey Me! Fanfiction [Read on AO3]

Mammon/Female!MC

After a series of incredible material and financial opportunities going in her favor, she finds herself questioning the root of her luck and what she did to deserve them all.

In the most ludicrous way possible, she is reminded that where money is involved, the Avatar of Greed is.

Explicit | Light D/S & Femdom, Mild Exhibitionism, Edging

Hello! This is my first Obey Me fanfic. It's a friends to lovers story with a mix of fluff and eventual smut. Enjoy♪〜

Word Count: ~10.7k

It began with a Grimm; a single coin that had gone unnoticed on the corridor.

The eternal darkness that enveloped the Devildom was one of its characteristics that caught her off guard when she arrived in this realm. She grew up to sunny mornings which was an impossibility here, but though the light was absent, the place was alive in its unique way. Often, she stopped and stared at the otherworldly surroundings, but today, it was the furthest thing in her mind as her rapid footsteps echoed across the hallways of the academy, in a rush to make it in time for Devildom Law. It was a class she shared with Mammon. The two of them would usually arrive in class together, but right now, she ran alone. She had slept in, and after letting him copy her homework, yet again, Mammon didn’t even bother to wake her. Although her stomach rumbled due to skipping breakfast, she continued her ascent to the staircase without a pause, her legs threatening to give out, but her mind winning over her body as she kept going through sheer willpower. Humans were looked down enough in the world of demons. She wanted to prove to everyone that whatever the beings here were worthy of, humans were worthy of as well. With this mindset, she ran, and finally, she was on the floor where the class would be conducted.

Everything was going her way until she took a wrong step.

She felt it, a round object protruding on the plane of the floor, right under her sole. Her foot slipped back while her body lurched forward as she lost her balance. For a second, a comical scene of a character slipping on a banana peel in a cartoon flashed in her memory, and she fell face-first on the floor with a thud. The object she stepped on flew a distance away with resounding clinks. She groaned, shifting her body to a sitting position as she glanced around. No one was around to witness her clumsiness but the paintings on the walls, and she supposed that was one good thing she could be grateful for. She dusted her hands and was about to do the same to her uniform when the sound of her name being called made her head turn to the other direction.

A frantic Asmodeus rushed to her side. “Are you alright?”

“Hey, Asmo. I’m fine,” she reassured him and moved to stand.

Asmodeus bent down and outstretched his hand. “Here, let me help you up.”

“Thanks.” She took him up on his offer and stood, letting go once she regained her balance. “Are you running late for class, too?”

“Something like that,” Asmodeus replied, a mysterious smile lighting up his face. It made her concerned about where his hand, which she had just touched, had been before this. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, that. I tripped over something.” She turned around and craned her head until the golden contrast against the monotone floors caught her attention. With her unsteady legs, she shuffled to its direction and bent down to pick it up.

A Grimm.

How strange. She would have noticed—no, she should have. There was nothing on the floor, she swore, but there it was, the Grimm, solid and real in her hand. She wiped the coin on her skirt and examined it. Her eyes might have lied to her, but what was done was done, she had nothing to do but discard the thought and focus on more significant matters.

The chime of the clock signaled the beginning of class. She was late. Between her fingers, the skull embedded on the obverse stared back, smiling, as if it was mocking her for failing her goal of achieving a perfect record. She recited the text in the header of the Attendance Card in her head: The Royal Academy of Diavolo is glad to commend you for prompt attendance and good work in the Devildom. Prompt attendance. She contemplated whether it would be better to skip class altogether or have all heads turn her way and be reprimanded for coming late.

“A Grimm?” Asmodeus, who had come closer, asked.

“Apparently.”

“It’s not every day someone finds money in a random place. It might be a good omen, who knows?” Asmodeus said and grimaced, remembering the state he found her in. “You sure you’re okay, though? You aren’t injured, are you? I’d hate it if a wound ends up scarring your beautiful skin because I wasn’t able to get here earlier. Oh, no...”

Asmodeus scanned her from head to toe with genuine concern, taking her wrist with a gentle touch and checking her hands for any scratches and injuries.

“I’m okay, really—”

“Hey! Whaddaya think you’re doin’, huh? Watch where those dirty hands are touchin’, Asmo... or better yet, keep your dirty hands to yourself!” Mammon exclaimed as he appeared by the stairs. His hair was a mess, his uniform was untucked as always but more disheveled than usual, and his tie was undone. He crouched down with his hands on his knees as he panted from the exhaustion of running over to the academy in record time.

That took her by surprise. All this time, she had thought Mammon had left without her, but it turned out he had slept in as well. In reality, she was the one who left him behind, and the pang of guilt turned her bad day worse.

Asmodeus let her wrists go and spun around to shoot Mammon an icy glare. “Excuse me? Dirty?!”

“Yeah! Ya heard me!”

“How dare you, you scum. If anyone here is dirty, it’s you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever ya say.” Mammon rushed to her side and grabbed her hand. “We’re runnin’ late, let’s go.”

“What are you saying? We’re already late, Mammon.”

“And we’re gonna be even later if we don’t run faster. Come on or else Lucifer’s never gonna let us hear the end of it.”

Mammon was right. She hadn’t thought of that. A late attendance in class would entail a lecture from Lucifer, but a complete absence without a valid reason would warrant an even longer lecture and a possible punishment. The last time she and Mammon got into trouble, Lucifer talked their ears off all night and assigned them on kitchen duty for two weeks. She shuddered at the thought.

“Oh, no. I am not going to go through that again. See you later, Asmo!” She waved goodbye and let herself be dragged by Mammon to class, making a mental note to sneak a text in her D.D.D. later to thank him for his concern and apologize they had to leave in a rush.

For now, she made sure to wrap her fingers around the Grimm she picked up, not wanting to lose it, while her other hand grasped onto Mammon just as tightly, not wanting to be left behind.

“Hey,” she called once they were in front of the closed doors of the classroom. “Face this way, Mammon.”

“Hm?” He turned to her, confused, and backed away when she stepped closer to take his tie. “H-Hey! What’re ya doin’?!”

“Shh! They’re going to think we were... up to no good if you come in like that,” she stated. With Mammon paralyzed by self-consciousness, she took the opportunity to fix his tie, her fingers deft with the task from learning how to do her own every day. “Sorry about leaving you. I thought you already went to the academy... without me.”

“If I did that, Lucifer will hang me upside down again. You’re under my care, remember?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said and froze. They were standing at such proximity that she could hear his heavy breaths and feel their heat on her cheek. With adrenaline in her veins, she glanced at him and found his intense gaze boring on her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His cheeks flushed, and he averted his eyes. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

Right, she thought as she adjusted the knot on his tie. There was nothing she could do about the rumpled state of his clothes, but it was an improvement. “There. Let’s go.”

All heads turned their way the moment they opened the door, and as she expected, the teacher reprimanded them for their late attendance as they took their seats. But with Mammon to show up with her and share half of the brunt of the unwanted attention, it wasn’t as bad as she expected it would be.

Saturday came. As an apology for leaving him behind the other day, she wanted to invite Mammon to go around town, do a bunch of random stuff, eat at Hell's Kitchen—anything at all; her treat. With Mammon, everything ended up being enjoyable, and she would bet anything he wouldn’t turn down a chance to hang out and not have to spend a single coin. However, his seat remained empty during breakfast. After learning her lesson that he might have slept in, she knocked on his room to check on him but received no answer. She tried a few more times before resorting to turning the knob, which, surprisingly, was unlocked.

“Mammon? Are you here?” she called as she peeked inside.

The room was a chaotic mess, much like its owner. Fancy boxes of designer clothing were littered all over the floor, the tissues used to cushion the products strewn around them. A flurry of envelopes, which she suspected were bills Mammon had to pay, laid on the sofa. The most recent issue of Devil Style published by Majolish in which Mammon graced the front cover was opened on the coffee table, a few empty instant noodle cups next to it. The first area she searched for was his bed, and she was right; he had indeed slept in and was there. But the scene that awaited her made her eyes widen and her hand fly over her mouth on reflex.

His sheets were pure white, a contrast to the sinful form right in the middle of it all. Mammon dozed off, his whole facial expression carefree, his mouth hanging open as he snored lightly. A fluffy pillow under his head, his hair was tousled and messy, a few shades darker than the fabric it splayed on. A blanket covered his bottom half, but the rest of his lean, muscular body was bare. Sans the wings, he looked like an angel from a classical painting, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he had once looked like before he had fallen; what kind of wings he had, if a halo once had a place over his head. It wasn’t the first time she had seen a considerable amount of his skin, but the reality of the situation made her heartbeat accelerate and sent blood rushing to her cheeks: Mammon laid in front of her in his sleeping glory, possibly wearing nothing under the sheets.

“You… idiot… human…” Mammon groaned and mumbled something that sounded a lot like her name.

With the subsequent panic brought by the thought that Mammon had woken up, she staggered backward, her eyes darting around his room in search of a place to hide. To her unbelievable luck, he merely shifted his position and rolled onto his back, still asleep. Typical Mammon; even in his dreams, he was calling her an ‘idiot’ and ‘human’, but the fact that she starred in his dreams flattered her, she had to admit. He continued to mumble incoherently, his blanket still hung dangerously low, a slight movement from him and...

For once, she had to agree that she was an idiotic human. It was dangerous to lurk around this place. The longer she stayed, the higher the chances of him actually waking up and catching her red-handed. She raced to the door, avoiding the clutter on the way and thankfully succeeding. The click of the lock let her breathe a sigh of relief, and she had to fan her face with a hand to calm herself. No one was around the corridor which was a blessing on her end. She wouldn’t know how to explain what happened.

Like a second version of Leviathan, she fled the scene and shut herself inside her room for the rest of the day, ensuring she had as minimal contact as possible with the outside world. She entertained herself by watching an anime Leviathan recommended, her D.D.D. set aside and unattended. The image of Mammon earlier would sneak inside her mind from time to time, and it was enough to make her flustered all over again. It was pure insanity, she admonished herself for being so ruffled about it.

The whole day passed, no one disturbed her, and she didn’t see Mammon at all.

On Sunday morning, having convinced herself to brush the incident off, she sent Mammon a message and asked him what he was up to, intent on pursuing the original plan yesterday before the... unexpected occurred. He replied a few minutes later with another detailed scheme he was cooking up to pay off a portion of his debt to the witches. She was skeptical of it, but she sent him words of encouragement and hoped for the best. It would be nice if he wasn’t being chased by his debtors 24/7, but since she arrived at the Devildom, the name 'Mammon' and the word 'debt' had always been mutually inclusive. The house was quiet, and she had to admit, it felt lonely without him around.

In her bedroom, the desk was filled with things she collected in this world as time passed by, like her RAD identification card which she hung on her corkboard and the photo booth souvenirs she got during Spirit Week alongside it. The lamp illuminated the text of A Synopsis of Primitive Magical Theory, a book Satan lent to her last week. The hardbound cover was unlike anything she had seen before, with symbols she has yet to learn about inscribed on them. It was an old book—ancient, even—that was a rare find even in the Devildom. She suspected Satan had spells cast on it to retain its pristine condition.

As she read a few chapters and reached the end of a passage about curses, she flipped the page and was taken aback by what she saw: a Demon Voucher, shiny and crisp, lodged in the middle of the pages. The Grim Reaper, a contrast of black against the bright yellow, stared back at her as if she was being haunted and fetched for the afterlife—which was a silly thought to have; she was already living in the Devildom. The voucher looked new. She concluded it was Satan’s, and he must have misplaced them. With that, she set it aside and planned to mention it to him later when they would see each other during lunch or dinner.

She thought that was the end of it, but when she flipped the next page, another voucher awaited her. It was odd. She tapped her index finger at the bottom of the page, a ludicrous thought running inside her head. There was no way that what she was thinking was true, and she flipped the page in anticipation, only to be proven that her guess was correct: another voucher.

A hundred times she flipped the pages of the book, a hundred Grim Reapers stared back at her from each sheet of the Demon Vouchers.

Were those already there beforehand? Or did the Primitive Magical Theory this book was about had something to do with what was happening? Unable to ignore the confusion that plagued her mind, she shut the book and stacked the vouchers together, deciding to approach its owner about it.

On the way to Satan’s room, she came across Lucifer in the corridor of the House of Lamentation. As they approached each other from opposite directions, she smiled politely at him in greeting. No matter how much she crossed her fingers that Lucifer hadn't heard about her and Mammon’s late attendance the other day, the chances of it happening in real life were low. Still, he hasn’t had a chat with either of them about it...

“Not with Mammon today?” Lucifer asked once they were a few steps away from each other.

She laughed nervously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You two have been inseparable as of late, don’t you think so?” He spotted the book in her hand. “A Synopsis of Primitive Magical Theory? An excellent title.”

“It’s Satan’s.”

“Well then, carry on. I have a meeting with Diavolo and must be on my way as well.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice.

Minutes later, she stood in front of Satan’s door and knocked. “It’s me.”

There was shuffling inside, and the door swung open with a creak. Satan greeted, “Not with Mammon today?”

“Huh? Not you, too!”

“Just kidding. Come in.” He laughed and ushered her inside, gesturing to the book in her hand. “Have you finished reading it? What do you think?”

“Not yet, but I am halfway through,” she replied. “That’s not what I came here for, though. I’m here because I found these vouchers in the pages, I think you misplaced them as a bookmark… maybe? And you might want to use them, so here they are…”

He shook his head. “Those aren’t mine. I have a lot of bookmarks.”

“Well, there are a hundred of these here." She waved the stack of vouchers in her other hand to emphasize her point. "Please give me a spoiler: is this the ‘Primitive Magic’ the book is talking about?”

“I can assure you, it’s not. I’ve read the book a ton of times, and nothing like that has ever happened to me.”

“Whose are these, then? Maybe the one who borrowed it before me?’

“You’re the first one I lent it to.”

“But I…” She was rendered speechless by what she has learned. If these weren’t his or hers, then where did they come from?

“Say, are any strange things happening to you lately?” Satan asked, a cryptic smile making his gentle features unnerving.

She stared back at him with suspicion. “The Devildom is a whole new world to me, so something strange always happens, of course. At least, they are strange to me.”

“Ah, that is correct.” He nodded and folded his fingers together. “But if I may give you a piece of advice? Remember the things you were told on your first day here. They may lead you to a rather surprising conclusion.”

“I see… Remember the things I was told on my first day here…"

Satan's eyes glinted with mischief. He knew something she didn’t, she was sure. Before she could ponder over his word of advice, all traces of mystery vanished from his face as he suggested excitedly, “Why don’t you use those vouchers and treat yourself? Finders keepers!”

She spent the night tossing and turning with recollections of the recent events in her mind. When she picked up that Grimm in the corridor the other day, Asmodeus had said that it might have been a good omen. If that was true, she wondered if the forces surrounding her were the cause of the things happening to her or if there was something or someone else behind them. It was the last thing in her mind before she drifted to sleep and dreamed about gold coins raining down from the sky.

The next day, she went to a mall on the way home after class, intent on getting rid of the vouchers in the best way possible: by using them.

Mammon would be proud, she thought. She wondered what he would do if a hundred vouchers appeared in front of him, and concluded he’d drool over them as Beelzebub would to a cheeseburger. The thought alone was hilarious. It wasn’t as if she was spending them all for herself; she was off to do so for the ones who she couldn’t imagine her stay in the Devildom without. Despite the odd way she acquired the vouchers, she decided to make the most out of them as Satan suggested and take the opportunity to show her appreciation to the seven brothers.

Luckily for her, the mall she went to had a selection of items from the human world, and she decided she would gift them things she was familiar with and had meaning to her. First, she looked for five titles of human books she enjoyed for Satan; all in the mystery genre. His thirst for knowledge made them the perfect choice for him, and as a thoughtful demon, he would appreciate her recommendations. Besides, the reason she had this kind of opportunity was because of the book he lent her; five books as a gift for him didn’t seem like enough. A stack of records caught her eye, and she knew it would suit Lucifer right away. She chose one which she considered was a hidden gem in her world. Asmodeus has always been curious about a particular perfume she sometimes wore, the one which had soft, sweet, and flowery notes in it, and so she included the largest bottle of that in her purchases. For Leviathan, a rare and newly released Ruri-chan figure with bunny ears that she hoped he didn’t have yet—if that was even possible. She picked up the ingredients for the special recipe of cheeseburger she planned to cook for Beelzebub, and a sushi pillow and a sleeping eye mask for Belphegor.

As for Mammon… Well, what would Mammon like?

The answer was easy: money… and instant noodles in hell-sauce flavor, he liked that, too.

She frowned, strolling along the aisles with a cart full of her selected gifts. Instant noodles were too simple of a present, but she also didn’t feel like giving him the vouchers and letting him spend those for himself. It would defeat the purpose of her gifting him something. She racked her brains for something else Mammon enjoyed and came up with an idea. Excited, she rummaged through her bag for her D.D.D. and gave him a call.

He answered on the first ring. “Yooooo! THE Mammon speakin’.”

“Wanna watch TSL tonight?”

“Wh...?! What's that all of a sudden? I-I mean I’m busy… but I guess I can spare some time if it means a marathon of TSL. It’s not because I wanna watch with you in your room! It’s not that, okay?!”

She laughed. “Okay, then. See you later.”

A box set of The Tale of the Seven Lords Full Series DVD for Mammon it was.

Despite Mammon telling her that he would be coming not because he wanted to watch with her, she knew he did. He was obvious in that way, and she would have to be blind for her not to notice how different he acted when it came to her. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he was always adamant in denying everything, and though she found herself charmed, they were only going in circles and nowhere at this rate.

With everyone checked off her list, she pushed her cart to the nearest check-out and stood in the queue. The cashier greeted her a good afternoon and scanned her items. After seeing the total amount, she grabbed her purse to prepare her payment until the cashier, as well as the other staff, clapped their hands and said in unison, “Congratulations!”

“Huh?!”

The cashier shook her hand. “Again, congratulations, miss! You are now getting all of these items and more for FREE!”

“H-Hold on, there must be a mistake. I know that I’m a human, but I have money, too! I even have a debit card… and a bunch of vouchers! See?”

“Of course, of course... However, it isn’t that at all.” the cashier replied. “You are officially our 666th customer of the 6th month of the year! As a prize, you are entitled to our best deal, which is getting everything in your cart for free, absolutely no charges.”

“What in hell’s name…”

“Oh, and here is your Lucky 666 Card! Enjoy a 99.9% discount on your birthday! Just sign your name over the dotted line… There we go… Thank you for your continued patronage!”

She stared blankly at the sleek black card with three letters, bold and holographic, in the middle: VIP.

She sat in her room in a comfortable position, her head leaning over the sofa’s backrest, a pillow on her lap. She hasn’t seen Mammon since they parted after Devildom Law this morning. He had to do something for his debt again, this time another shoot for a clothing brand’s spread in Devil Style, and she was glad she was able to contact him earlier despite his busy schedule. He promised he was going to be present tonight, but it was almost time for their TSL marathon. Mammon hasn’t arrived yet. Did he forget?

Her bedroom door swung open. Mammon stood there, a huge bowl of popcorn in his arm, and cried out, “You didn’t tell me these two were goin’ to be here, too!”

“Oh… Hey, Mammon…”

“Beel...?! Doncha have a kitchen to raid or somethin’?”

“Movie night means popcorn,” Beelzebub replied with the happiest smile, taking the popcorn Mammon brought and filling his mouth with it the next second.

Leviathan inserted the disc of TSL Volume 1 in the DVD player. “Mammon thought she wanted to ask him on a date. How embarrassing! ROFLMAOOO XDDD!”

She chuckled at that, guiltily. In truth, she did want to ask Mammon to have a TSL marathon with her—and only her—tonight. Even someone as dense as Mammon would get a hint that she was into him… or was she giving him too much credit? Nonetheless, Beelzebub and Leviathan came knocking on her door, somehow having heard about their plans. They were very enthusiastic about tonight’s TSL marathon, she couldn’t deny them. It was too late now.

“Shut up, Levi! What’re ya doin’ here, anyway?” Mammon asked.

“It’s TSL Night. Of course, the #1 TSL fan should be present.” Leviathan turned to her and nodded in approval. “I have to say, you have excellent taste. The Ruri-chan figure you gave me is now in its rightful shrine in my room, so thanks… Plus, a limited edition TSL box set as another choice of gift? Such a shame it would be wasted on stupid Mammon, though… What a normie...”

“Grr… Whatever. I’m sitting here.” Mammon plopped down on the spot beside her and took up the majority of the space by stretching his arms and legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing with her bare arm as he settled in. She could get a whiff of that expensive perfume he liked and spent so much on. It was a familiar and comforting scent she associated with him.

“There goes Mammon again, hogging her all to himself.” Leviathan shook his head but otherwise sat on an individual seat like Beelzebub and helped himself with popcorn. “Should we invite Belphie? Where is he, anyway?”

Beelzebub replied, “He’s asleep.”

“Nevermind, then.”

Instead of keeping her eyes on the opening scene of the first episode, she found herself watching Mammon. His hair, which she was no stranger to touching since she would rub his head often, was messy as always but in a good way. It suited him. Every time he blinked, the light and long lashes that framed his eyes emphasized the movement. Her gaze moved down, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his lips moved as he yelled at Beelzebub not to forget to bring them drinks from the kitchen on the way—them being him and her and not Leviathan. Mammon spoke freely, most of the time tactlessly, and though there were instances when he would say what was the opposite of what was in his mind, everyone who truly knew him would always be able to read between the lines.

“Hm? What’re ya lookin’ at me like that for?”

“Nothing,” she lied and gave him a small smile. “Is that a new earring you’re wearing?”

“Oh, ya noticed? Pretty neat, huh? Got it for a great price, too!” he enthused, brushing aside the hair that covered his ears so she could have a good look.

He proceeded to tell her the amount he spent on his new jewelry, which was indeed a great price, but not necessarily a great deal. She shook her head with a laugh. Up to the simplest things, Mammon would always be Mammon.

“It’s The Lord of Fools and Geldie! Oh, no... I can’t do this again, not anymore…” Mammon sobbed as soon as it was time for the ‘most tragic scene of all time’, although he had already cried over it the last time they had a TSL marathon. His sniffling earned teasing remarks from the three of them. Leviathan cheered when the Lord of Shadow and Henry did their legendary high five. Meanwhile, Beelzebub finished twenty bowls of popcorn, his eyes glued to the screen as well.

As the ending credits for Volume 5 rolled, her eyelids, which had been feeling heavy since the previous episode, gave in and fluttered closed. Her tiredness from school and her subsequent shopping trip began to catch up to her, and she could do nothing to fight it any longer.

“I’m so hungry...” Beelzebub’s stomach growled like an angry monster. He grabbed the empty bowl of popcorn and left the room the next second, on the way to raid the refrigerator.

“Bye… Beel…”

“Ah, I’ll never get tired of that.” Leviathan stretched his arms and legs. His D.D.D. rang, a song she didn’t recognize as his ringtone. He read the message, shot up from his seat, and exclaimed, “Oooooh! An emergency raid notification in Mononoke Land! Volume 6 tomorrow. Same time, same place. Leviachan, over and out.”

“See you… tomorrow… Levi…”

“D'aaah! H-Hey! Whaddya think you’re doin’?!” Mammon protested when she ended up leaning on his shoulder.

She wanted to tell him she was sleepy, but before she could, she had already succumbed and drifted off.

A pillow cushioned her head, and her blanket covered her body fully and protected her from the chill. It was silent save for the ticking of the clock that indicated it was three in the morning, a time which she would have been spooked to wake in if she was still in the human world. The television has been turned off, and the events earlier replayed in her mind: they were having a TSL marathon, and in the middle of it, she fell asleep. She recalled Beelzebub and Leviathan leaving. Mammon must have been the one to tuck her in bed. The thought made her heart soar, and she decided she would thank him later. For now, she would have sweet dreams for sure. Intent on continuing her slumber, she shifted her position to the side when the subsequent rustle of papers made her freeze.

Wary, her hand left the comfort of the blanket, and she reached out and dipped her fingers onto the bedsheet, her touch light but enough for her to feel a rectangular sheet of paper. Certain incidents from the past few days struck an unbelievable possibility in her mind. With a trembling hand, she brought the paper closer to her face. It was a bill—not the kind of bill Mammon possessed and received frequently—this was money; a hundred percent cold hard cash. She sat up, the astounding sight making all traces of sleep leave her body. Around her, the bed was littered with bills in various denominations. They were placed as if someone had thrown them haphazardly but avoided her form, the corners having the most amount in the most literal sense.

She stepped out of the bed with her eyes shut, rubbing them with the back of her hand and convincing herself they were deceiving her. However, the familiar feeling of something beneath her feet was enough for her to know that the probability of her being wrong was low. When she opened her eyes, the bills remained. Piles of Grimm stacked side by side with giant yellow gemstones, jewelry, and gold bars rested at the foot of the bed and all over the carpet. This wasn’t a petty amount of cash one could produce in a snap, and she believed there was no way someone was doing this to play a prank on her. She picked up a gold bar with one hand and a gemstone in another, its sizable weight and sparkle leaving her to the conclusion that none of these items were counterfeit, certainly not something to be trifled with. Her fingers growing limp, the gold bar and gemstone fell to the carpet, neither dented nor broken.

At first, it was the Grimm on the corridor, and then the Demon Vouchers. She received expensive items for free and became a VIP in a mall, and now this, items only treasure chests were known for appearing beside her as she slept.

It terrified her.

At a loss, she distanced herself from the collection of treasures and called the first name that came inside her mind, “Mammon!”

She was aware it was futile. It was the middle of the night. He would be deep in his sleep and wouldn’t hear her. But to her absolute surprise and relief, the door swung open within a minute. Mammon was the one behind it, looking like he threw the first articles of clothing he could get his hands on, a rumpled plain black shirt and pinstripe pajama bottoms, barefoot.

“Hey… What’s the big idea callin’ me in the middle of the night—” he had begun to fire his tirade of complaints but paused upon seeing her distress. Worry etched on his face as he strode to her side. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know! What are all these? Why is this happening?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her lightly. “What’re ya talking about? Are ya in danger? Tell me!”

She assumed Mammon would see it—smell it, even—the moment he walked in, yet he failed to notice. She gestured behind him and said, “See for yourself.”

Mammon spun around and yelped. Every single one of the various treasures shined brighter under the scrutiny of their gazes. Speechless, he ambled over to the foot of her bed, picked up a coin, and rolled it across his knuckles, uncharacteristically quiet.

Minutes went by, and she was unable to take the silence any longer. “I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s been like this since I tripped on that Grimm. It’s like I’m being haunted by the ghost of the Grimm or something.”

Her words remained unheard as Mammon threw the coin with a snap, absentminded. It landed neither on its head or tails but on its side, toppling over the nearest stack of Grimm and creating a domino effect to the one next to it. He rubbed his chin and began to mumble unintelligibly to himself.

Mammon was acting strangely.

She crossed her arms and observed, suspicious. She expected him to rejoice at the huge amount of money in his reach, try to pocket them, or talk her into breaking the gemstones into fragments and profiting from them. The ultimate form of temptation for Mammon laid in front of him, yet there he was, lost in thought. “You know something.”

Mammon finally heard her words. He turned her way slowly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Tell me,” she said.

“No way! I dunno anythin’.” He tried to play it cool, yet she saw right through him; from the way a thin sheen of sweat had covered his face to the way his throat bobbed as he gulped, his gaze landing anywhere but her—he was alarmed.

“Don’t lie.”

He stood and backed away, all the while laughing nervously. “Well… it might be because of me…”

It was true that Mammon was the last one who was with her in this room before this, as far as she knew, but it was also no secret that he constantly had an empty wallet and piggy bank—even his credit card was frozen once again by Lucifer. Always without a spare change to his name, he was indebted to beings both mortal and supernatural. Was he saying that he had a stash of funds in secret?

“Because of you? What do you mean?”

“You know… Haha...”

“I don’t, actually.” She crossed her arms and gave him a heated look. “Explain, Mammon.”

“D’aaah! Okay, okay!” He scratched the back of his neck, a blush coloring his cheeks, hesitant. “Uh… Satan already told ya what happens when… the Avatar of Greed… takes a liking to someone, didn’t he?”

So, it was something Satan said… When she thought it over, Satan’s advice from last time echoed inside her mind: something she was told on her first day in the Devildom.

It all clicked.

Her first day had been a whirlwind, but one fateful occurrence was her meeting with the brothers, one of them being Mammon. The words Satan said as he introduced him rang in absolute clarity in her mind:

“Mammon here is the Avatar of Greed. He governs and oversees all forms of it. Whenever he takes a liking to someone, they suddenly find themselves awash in money. But from what I hear, if he decides to break it off with someone, that wealth evaporates. They’re left without a Grimm to their name.”

Mammon has taken a liking to her.

Mammon, the student council member assigned to be her caretaker. He has done his task in the most Mammon way possible since day one. When troubles came, his self-preservation won most of the time, but she couldn’t blame him. For some reason, he would still be the one who ended up in trouble with Lucifer, and it all worked out at the end of the day, always.

Mammon, the demon who claimed he wasn’t terrified of horror movies and would watch them to prove his point and fail. It made her and his brothers laugh every single time. She would insist on switching into an action, drama, or romantic comedy film, knowing he was partial to those genres and would be overcome with emotions other than fear. He would end up enjoying movie nights he dreaded.

Mammon, the ‘best bud’ she could talk and laugh with about the craziest things, the partner in crime she never had in the world she was born in. Her self-proclaimed ‘first guy’ who tried his best to deny everything, but wore his heart on his sleeve for everyone to take notice. He was far from perfect, but he was unapologetically himself, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Mammon, the one who was in front of her now, peering over her face from afar with worry, as if she mattered more than the mountain of material treasures behind him.

Mammon has taken a liking to her, and it wasn’t mere liking.

“Do you love me, Mammon?” She took a step closer to him, wanting nothing but the truth.

He tried to step further away, but the back of his legs met the bed. “Wh…What?!”

“Answer me.”

“Uh… I guess ya ain’t bad for a human..."

“No. Honestly.”

He didn’t freeze, but he did stop fidgeting. She couldn’t tell if it was the power of the pact or the honesty the moment warranted that worked over Mammon as his shoulders slumped in defeat and answered, “Yes.”

The ticking of the clock has never been this loud. He finally admitted it. After all the stolen glances and hidden affections they had harbored toward each other for the longest time, he managed to be honest not only with himself but also to her. This changed things, and she could cry because she has waited for this moment in what seemed like an eternity.

“Listen here, and listen good! I’m not a regular demon, y’know! I’m The Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, one of Devildom’s elite… It should be an honor! But you… you didn’t even give me a reply…” he said, his final sentence dripping with hurt and self-pity.

It was her turn to be honest; she couldn’t have him getting the wrong idea, especially when he had taken a risk to confess his true feelings. She rushed and threw her arms around him, making them fall to the bed and a few bills fly to the floor. “Stupid Mammon. I love you, too.”

“Wh…? Really? Did I hear that right? You’re not joking, are ya?” He cradled her face in his hands and sought her eyes for answers, his own wide in a mixture of disbelief and hope.

She leaned down until her lips brushed his. “Yes, you heard it right, and no, I’m not joking. I love you.”

He broke into a smile, overjoyed, and in a second, closed the gap between them in a kiss, one she was ready for, and she welcomed and reciprocated. It was gentle in all the ways imaginable, tinged with uncertainty as the reality of it all has yet to sink in. Before she knew it, it was over too soon.

“You can’t take it back!” Mammon exclaimed once they parted. He has never looked happier, and she always wanted to see him like this.

“I have no plans to.” She brushed her fingertips along his cheek.

“Good. ‘Cause I love ya.”

There they were, the exact words she had been waiting for.

Mammon gazed at her with fondness, a special look that he only had for her. His palm slid to the back of her neck, testing the idea of another kiss which she was more than happy to grant him, the passion she had pent inside her waiting to be released. As her tongue readily slid past his parted lips and met his, he embraced her and moved them into a sitting position. She followed in perfect synchrony, straddling his lap comfortably as she carded her fingers through his hair and pulled lightly, the two of them reluctant to break the kiss. Their initial shyness gone, Mammon’s touch on her waist grew firmer as the kisses turned deeper. His hands wandered to the curve of her hips, and on instinct, she shifted her hips forward to press herself closer to him. She succeeded, the space between their bodies now close to none, but that single movement from her also made her aware of his raging arousal. The heat between her legs made her mind go hazy with the extent of her own need for him, and it filled her mind with possibilities of where this could go.

Hesitant fingers teased the hem of her blouse and brushed over the exposed skin on her lower back. Mammon leaned back, his lips swollen and alluring, and murmured, “H-Hey, hold up a sec, are ya sure about this?”

It made her happy that he asked. Rough around the edges as he was, he cared for her so much. She was so in love with him. “Of course. I mean, are you?”

He pressed open-mouthed kisses on her shoulder, nipping and sucking at the skin on her neck until his lips caressed the shell of her ear. The warmth of his breath emphasized the weight of the words he whispered, “You’re mine now.”

It sent a thrill down her spine. She liked the sound of that, even more, because it meant that he was hers in the same way. Back then, she chided herself for letting her mind wander, but being surrounded by Mammon, an embodiment of a sin himself and the one she struggled to conceal her feelings for, made it difficult to brush those thoughts aside. How he’d feel like, how he’d taste, how he’d hold her—she’d imagined it all. Sometimes, she wondered if he was the same. Did he see her face, imagine her bare body, when he touched himself?

A passing glance over the bed reminded her of the current situation they were in. She let out a teasing laugh. “Is this your fantasy, Mammon? You and me… on a bed full of money? Or is there something else?”

“Shut up…” he replied, not sounding in denial at the least. He buried his face on her neck, his breath tickling her skin as he inhaled her scent.

“Either way, it won’t take long. I’ll know soon enough.” She would, maybe not tonight, but they had all the time in the world. Once she figured them out, the two of them would take delight in each one of those fantasies.

Tentatively, she ground her hips against him and leaned for another fierce kiss. Despite the fabric of their pajamas serving as a barrier between their bodies, it was thin enough that even the slightest movement created enough friction in the right places. He let out grunts of approval against her lips and soon met every grind of her hips with his own. Underneath her, she felt the hardening outline of his length, every press leaving her dizzy with the scorching desire for more. She could reach her peak simply by doing this, yet her mind swirled with other ideas. She broke the kiss and shifted her legs so she could stand.

“Where are ya goin’?” Mammon protested, reaching out to take her back in his arms once her unsteady feet toppled over the stack of treasures and touched the carpet.

“Relax,” she assured, a seductive smile gracing her lips. “Undress me.”

“O-Okay…” He gulped and stuttered to say more but failed.

Her heart raced as she took his hands in hers, placed them on her shoulders, and slid them down, pausing to give special attention to her breasts before guiding him to the spot where the first button of her blouse rested. Mammon was stunned, but in the blink of an eye, he regained whatever was left of his composure and took matters into his own hands. He undid the buttons one by one, taking all the time in the world, his lustful eyes trained on every inch of her skin that was revealed to him as he went further. When he reached the last one, she shrugged the fabric off her shoulders and discarded it on the floor. The cool temperature of the room nipped at her skin, but she paid it no mind. Gingerly, he tugged at the garter of her pajama pants before he drew the fabric down, and without a word, she stepped out of them and turned around. His nervous fingers traced the curve of her spine and fumbled to unhook her bra. After a couple of seconds, he succeeded, but she didn’t wait for him and slid her panties off herself, the sharp intake of breath behind her unmistakable the moment she bent down and gave him a full view of her damp entrance. She faced the shocked, blushing mess on her bed that was Mammon, and basked in the boost of confidence given to her by the reality that she was the cause of his arousal as he was the sole reason for hers.

“How about we make this more exciting?” She stepped closer to him and reached for the hem of his shirt.

Mammon obliged at once, discarding it on the floor with her clothes. “Huh? Whaddya mean by that?”

She took a moment to appreciate his toned body before stripping his trousers and undergarments off. Their bodies both bared for the other to see, she returned to her rightful place on his lap while gesturing over to the mysterious collection of treasures around them, “Everything around us on the line if we finish this without you touching me.”

Though flustered and blushing, her statement distracted him and piqued his interest. “All of it? I mean, what’s this all about? Are ya bein’ serious right now?”

“Of course, I am. Think about it, all this money for you to spend, Mammon! Your wallet will never be lonely again… or at least, it won’t be for a while.”

“What’s in it for you, though?”

“Well… nothing, to be honest. Victory, maybe?”

“Lame. That’s the dumbest reason I’ve ever heard from someone makin’ a bet.”

Despite the lack of intrigue his words implied, the look on his face told her that he was considering it. Money was involved, after all. His nature as the Avatar of Greed would make it difficult for him to resist. She wasn’t bluffing; should he be able to do it, she would fulfill her end of the bargain.

“But don’t you like that you’ll be in advantage here? Easy money, right?” She tipped his chin with her index finger. “Don’t tell me… you can’t handle it?”

“Grr… Deal.”

“That’s the answer I was hoping for.”

“Just don’t come cryin’ to me after I win.”

“We’ll see about that.” He was fooling no one. He wouldn’t want her crying to anyone but him if she did end up in tears. Still, she was positive there was no need for any of that. As insane as it sounded, both the prospect of her winning and losing heightened her anticipation. “Now… where were we?”

“We were gettin’ to the good part.”

“Hm, isn’t that right.”

Her fingers brushed along the seam of his lips, coaxing them to open and let her slip them inside. Mammon’s pupils were dilated as his warm tongue swirled around her index and middle fingers almost on reflex and made sure not to miss the space between them. Pleased, she pulled her digits away, the sound of the final suck he gave them sending a thrill to her core, and rewarded him with a peck on the lips. She braced herself with her other hand on his shoulder, shifting her knees in a position that allowed her to settle his legs between them. Coyly, she gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, gauging his reaction as she reached down and let her fingers work their way to the slick heat between her legs.

Her salacious mind raced with thoughts of Mammon as she slipped her fingers inside her. He looked so handsome with desire etched on his face—from his frustrated eyebrows to his pouted lips—that she felt as if she was on fire under the intensity of his gaze. He was tense, torn on focusing on her face or on the carnal movements her fingers were doing to herself. A deal was a deal; he could do nothing but clench his jaw and ball his fists to restrain himself, unable to touch her though he was dying to…

It was all too much for her.

“Mammon…!” she whimpered his name right before his very eyes. Her head fell back at the sensation of her climax, her lips parted by the moans she didn’t bother stifling. She shut her eyes as the feeling ebbed, hyper-aware of the sweat that had begun to coat her skin, and limped against his body, her cheek resting on his shoulder.

“W-What about m-me?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t touch yourself,” she pointed out slyly, leaning back to face him again, “but since your self-control is commendable, I can do it for you… if you want me to?”

“Yes…” he responded shamelessly.

It made her smile. That was another honest moment for him, but she supposed desperate times called for desperate measures. Her fingers, coated in her wetness, slipped between their bodies and closed around his shaft lightly, making his eyes flutter shut at the sweet sensation. At the groan elicited by her first touch, she wasted no time in moving her fist up and down, acquainting herself with the feel of him and leaving him swallowing hard and gasping for breath. The grunts that came out of his mouth spurred her to continue her ministrations, but seeing him like this reminded her of something.

“You know, I went to your room one time. You were sleeping,” she confessed, her tone downplaying the effect the sight of him had on her, her hand never missing a second in pleasuring him.

His eyes flew open in alarm. Unable to think straight, he grit out, “Wh…huh? Don’t tell me you saw… everythin’ while I was… asleep…?”

She chuckled. He was unsettled over the fact that she found out he slept naked when he was all bared in front of her now, her hand still stroking him. It was endearingly Mammon to be that way. She leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “No, I didn’t see everything.”

“I only saw you from here...” with her other hand, she brushed her fingertips from his shoulder, the path accentuated by the edge of her nail, down to the lines on his abdomen, “until here.”

“R-Really?”

“Yes. This is the first time I’m seeing you like this, all of you.”

He let out another moan in response, his shaft now completely rigid inside her fist.

She pushed him down on the bed by his shoulder. The mattress bounced at their weight and sent bills flying to the floor, reminding her of the bet she proposed but had almost forgotten. Breathless, she aligned her body over his but paused at the last second to meet his expectant gaze. “Remember, no touching.”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t need to remind me—”

His retort was cut off when she began to descend and take him inch by inch, both of them groaning in unison the moment she buried him until the hilt. Still sensitive from her previous climax, she clenched around him and took time to adjust to his size, her hands splayed on his abdomen for support as she shivered and delighted in the relief of having her yearning filled.

Mammon squirmed underneath her and whined, “I-Is that it...? You’re just gonna do that… and I dunno... sit there…?”

“Shut up, Mammon.” She shot him a glare, or at least tried to, she was too addled with pleasure to know if she succeeded.

To Mammon’s credit, he hasn’t touched her.

She moved languidly, unsheathing him and pausing before sinking fully once again. Her hips moved forward and back in search of the perfect angle that further evoked frenzied reactions from him. The control she had over the pace and being able to call the shots—something about those sent a thrill inside her. Sweat began to drip down her skin, and it didn’t take long for her to set the rhythm and bounce up and down on his length, burying him inside her again and again. Mammon let out a string of expletives at the pleasure that took over his body, his toes curling and his tight fists clenching at the pink bedsheet. He couldn’t touch her, but he needed to hold onto something—anything—that could save him from falling off the brink of insanity.

Soon, she felt it; he was close. Mammon let out unabashed moans and curses and chanted her name so loudly his voice filled every corner of the room. A glance to the door, which she was unsure if Mammon had locked earlier or not, awakened her mind of the possibilities of the two of them getting caught and barged on. She unsheathed him again, but this time, halted her movements. “Keep it down, or I won’t let you.”

His hips moved on instinct, meeting her halfway in desperation for more but to no avail. She had shifted back, out of reach as he was unable to touch her if he wanted to win the bet. Mammon’s breaths came out in huffs as he came down from his high, so close yet not enough, the frustration lacing his words as he rasped, “You’re evil…”

“Am I? That sounds like something I should be telling you, though. I’m just a human, after all,” she reminded him with a chuckle.

“My human.”

In silence, she concurred. She adjusted her position and took his entire length once more, starting relentlessly to drive him to the edge one more time, only to stop at the last second when his voice rose, making him lose his momentum.

Mammon shut his eyes and grit his teeth, pulling at the sheets. “I… I’m goin’ crazy…!”

“You are?”

“Can’t… Can’t ya see—”

She sank on him again and took him in one fluid motion, rolling her hips back and forth against him mercilessly.

“I can’t do this… I need to touch ya… ”

“How greedy of you, Mammon.” Even in terms of her attention, he has always been a greedy one; making sure he would be the one to do things for her when his brothers gave her the slightest bit of attention. She has a strong feeling that he would be the same when it came to her affection now, but it would pose no problem on her end because, for all she cared, he could have every last bit of it. “You’ll lose, though. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t care anymore, dammit.”

And so, Mammon lost the bet.

Impulsively, he reached behind her head and bent her down so he could kiss her again, his tongue tasting hers clumsily but very eagerly. All worries of them possibly getting caught flew out the window. She propped herself with her hands on the mattress with ease, the majority of her weight supported by his body. His lips moved down to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, until he could give equal attention to her breasts, cupping them with his palms before settling on the curves of her hips, grunting as he thrust inside her in a swift motion.

This time, she was the one who had to bite back a moan. Mammon had been holding back. At the rapid succession of his thrusts, she was reminded of how physically strong he was beyond her human capability. Back arched, she tried her best to match his rhythm until both their movements turned erratic. The heat built up in her lower abdomen, and she reached her peak once again, aware the moment he trembled underneath her and followed. Amid the waves of pleasure, her eyes fluttered open, wanting nothing but to watch as he came undone and found him gazing at her in the same way through gritted teeth. Every pulsation inside her and the warmth of his release left her dizzy, but through dazed eyes, she didn’t dare look away from him and took everything he had to give.

Mammon embraced her as he panted and leaned his forehead against the curve of her neck, gratified, still caught up in the haze of pleasure.

“You lost,” she reminded, her fingers threading along his soft locks as she hugged him back and dropped a gentle kiss on his cheek.

For some reason, Mammon’s chest rumbled with laughter. Despite not knowing what was so amusing about the situation they were in, his laughter, as always, was contagious. She couldn’t help it and ended up laughing as well.

She hummed to the tune of one of the songs in the TSL soundtrack as she brushed her hair after a late-night—or better yet, very early morning—bath. Already dressed in her uniform, she set the brush down and finished the rest of her routine. Classes were bound to begin in three hours; she couldn’t risk sleeping, not waking up on time, and coming in late again. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could sleep after the most eventful hours of her life. She spun around, her eyes landing on the cause of the incredible incidents that had happened to her, her favorite creature out of all the existing realms.

Like her, Mammon was also in his uniform, his yellow tie in a perfect knot as she was the one who had done it for him. He was hanging out in her room and stacking the money that had appeared because he was the Avatar of Greed on the table. As terrible as he was in mathematics, everything was a different matter when the skull of the Grimm was involved; he audited the money, the possible prices of the gemstones, jewelry, and gold bars in a notebook like a professional. His eyebrows were knit and his lips were in a thin line in concentration; a rare look on him. She watched from afar with a smile.

“So, about all this money,” he began and gestured to her direction with his pen. “Ya better do somethin’ about ‘em because they’re gonna keep comin’, I’m tellin’ ya.”

He wasn’t about to stop his affections for her anytime soon, that was what he meant, so it entailed material and financial opportunities would have the sky as its limit.

Truth to be told, she didn’t have the slightest clue on what she would do with them and had been pondering about the matter since she stepped in the bath. All of it wouldn’t have appeared if not because of Mammon, and as he said, there would be more coming her way soon. She voiced out her idea nonchalantly, “Hm… I think I’ll use these to pay your debt.”

His pen, which has been gliding across the paper, halted. Mammon regarded her with utter surprise. “Huh? Y-You will?”

“You don’t like the idea?”

“Who said I didn’t like the idea? No one!” He left his computations aside and strode to her, taking her hands in his without a warning, hopeful. “You’ll really help me? Your first guy? The demon you love?

His words reminded her of their intimate moments earlier and the dull ache between her legs. Flustered at Mammon’s audacity, her cheeks turned red. They had only been together for hours, yet he was already this arrogant, but it wasn’t as if anything he had said was a lie either. She pulled her hands away and crossed her arms. “If you’re nice to me, I might.”

Unfazed, Mammon grinned and put an arm around her shoulders. “Why, of course, I am, and I will always be. Whaddya think, huh?”

“I’m not kidding, Mammon. I don’t want random witches chasing after my boyfriend,” she said and shifted her body to the side to meet his wide-eyed gaze with her serious one.

“B-B-Boyfriend?!”

“Why do you look so surprised? Isn’t that what you are to me?”

“I-I mean… Yeah, I guess you can count on THE Great Mammon to be your b-boyfriend, haha… I mean, I’m an awesome boyfriend, right? The best?”

“Hm, maybe...”

“Aw, maaan.”

It was no secret: Mammon was a sucker for compliments, even more so when they came from her. While it seemed silly, she knew how it felt; a compliment from Mammon would make her day no matter what the circumstances were. He looked downcast, frowning, and that was all it took for her to give in. She embraced him by the waist and murmured on his chest, “Of course, you are.”

In a span of a night, a lot of things had changed; the commitment she made with Mammon, the first demon she forged a pact with in the Devildom, was now in a whole new level, a connection unlike any she shared with the others, their bond worth an amount no money could buy. Still, it didn’t feel as if many things were different. Mammon was still Mammon while she was still herself; both of them an indispensable part of each other’s lives.

“Hey, you think I can win the lottery tomorrow?” she lifted her head and asked but was reminded that though it was dark, it was already morning, and it was going to be time for breakfast soon. “I mean, later?”

His eyes shined brighter than all of the various treasures he had counted combined. “Wanna find out?”

It was surreal to think that everything began with a single Grimm, and yet with Mammon leaning down to kiss her again, there was no doubt of it; she ended up hitting the jackpot.

Ka-ching! 🤑💰

If you made it this far, thank you so much for giving this story a chance. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Your feedback would be greatly appreciated 〜 💛

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#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me!#obey me! mammon #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #shall we date #shall we date obey me #Mammoney

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kiatheinsomniac · 4 years

Text

Huntress III

[ I ] [ II ] [ III ] [ IV ]

(Y/n) groggily arose from her bed, the sunlight of a late morning pouring in through the leaded windows, covering her in a blanket of diamond-shaped shadows. Beside her was the book which she had fallen asleep while reading. The thick pillar candle resting on the bedside had melted down three inches, wax pouring down its sides and melting in little dribbles, some of it pooling on the wood of the table.

Licking her thumb and index finger, (Y/n) quickly squeezed the wick to extinguish the flame that had been dancing all night, illuminating the room while she had slept.

She rubbed her (e/c) eyes and pushed back the locks of hair that had escaped her twin faux braids. Sitting up and dangling her legs off the side of the bed, she reached back to begin unweaving her hair, letting the river of (h/c) locks cascade behind her. She dropped all the little pins and bands onto the crumpled crimson sheets under her as she took her hair and began weaving it into dutch braids and winding it around the back of her neck, creating a crown from her own hair.

She stood to discard her clothes, folding them and placing them neatly into the trunk at the end of the bed before pulling out a black pair of trousers, a white blouse and some arm guards.

(Y/n) slid the blouse on first. It had billowing sleeves and turned to lace over the top of her chest, the woven pattern climbing up high on her neck, secured with a bow at her nape. Next, she tugged on the leg-hugging black trousers, tucking the blouse in as she tied up the front of the trousers, pulling the crisscrossing cords into a tight double bow. The (e/c)-eyed female then used her teeth to tighten her ebony arm guards. They made the lace cuffs of the blouse stand out more while the rest of the shirt puffed out against her upper arms. She then pulled on her boots and slung a bag over her shoulder.

Her eyes drifted back to the book.

In her profession, the knew better than to doubt the powers which she had read about on those pages. A previous civilisation, more advanced than our own, sounded ridiculous yet. . . The vampire wouldn't have taken the pages if he didn't believe in it himself or if he hadn't been exposed to one of those 'Pieces of Eden' at some point in his immortal life.

She picked it up and tossed it into her bag. She knew that she couldn't ask the Doge about it because she had stolen it from him and it was something which he was clearly trying to cover up. Her mind wandered for answers. Who in Venice would be about to help her decipher the coded parts of the text without the Doge knowing? The culture was changing, there were so many beautiful and bright minds nowadays.

An alchemist perhaps? A poet? An artist? An engineer? Of course! She knew exactly who to find as she turned the key in the lock and ran out of the mansion in search of the man whom she had just recalled. All she had was a name but with enough asking, she would be able to find him.

♰♰♰

It was a few hours later and (Y/n) found herself rather hungry, having left her room in the Doge's mansion without anything to eat. But eventually, she found herself knocking on the sheltered door of a studio. She pummelled her first insistently against the thick wood until a fairly young boy opened it.

"Hello, I'm looking for Leonardo? Da Vinci?" She peeked inside, attempting to get a better look into the building in order to spot the man himself.

"What for?" The young boy, clearly an apprentice, asked.

"I was told that he could help me to decode an old book that I found." She replied.

"Send her in!" A man called from somewhere inside. The young boy stood aside to allow (Y/n) to enter.

When she walked inside, there were odd contraptions hanging from the ceiling. Architectural drawings were sprawled out across tables and pinned to walls. There were half-finished paintings on easels and jars of murky paint water on stools. Sketches of anatomy were all pinned to the wall above a desk with very detailed charcoal drawings on it. Though, the windows were covered by sheets and it was oddly dark, candles lighting the place.

She was met by a blonde man with blue eyes who was rather short and wore a large hat.

But he wasn't the only person in the room.

Instantly, (Y/n) knew what this other man was. Whether he was the vampire she was searching for or a much more discreet one whom she didn't know of, she was unsure.

He was gorgeous. Flawless olive skin, glimmering brown eyes like polished smokey quartz, dark hair that shone healthily and was tied back. His odd white and red robes hugged his muscular arms, leading you to the conclusion that the rest of his body was very toned too.

When their eyes met, there was a mutual understanding that she knew what he was and he knew that she was the witch hunter.

He seemed caught off guard for a moment before his brows furrowed as he examined her, eyes widening with surprise when he picked up something about her — the last thing he ever would have expected from such a woman.

"Hello Leonardo," she turned to the artist, "My name's (Y/n) (L/n). I know that you don't know me but I've been told that you could help me decipher this book and I could really do with some help. It's for a case I'm working on and it would mean a lot to me. I can pay you however much you want." It was a risk to work right in front of the creature whom she needed to hunt down but she simply had to understand what was going on.

"Leonardo," Ezio spoke up, "Could you leave us alone for a moment please?"

The artist shot a glance of confusion in the direction of his friend. What was he playing at? Was it to do with the brotherhood? Or was he simply trying to charm the woman? Either way, he nodded and made his way to the garden.

(Y/n)'s hand snaked to the dagger at her hip. She was poorly prepared for a vampire attack, she had not been expecting him to be there — in broad daylight no less!

"You're in over your head." The vampire spoke simply, "I have work I need to do and I don't want you getting in the way. You don't need to die in this. Leave now. Go home and find work elsewhere." He truly did want peace. After all, his goal was to stop the unnecessary killing. He didn't want to kill her but he couldn't have her in the way of his plans either.

"You're right. There are people in this world who don't have to get caught in the crossfire. There are graves belonging to the people who didn't have to die." She lunged towards him and unsheathed her blade, though it was quickly deflected with his hidden blade which shot out from his sleeve. The point of her blade was poised at his chest, hovering over his heart. "And those people will only be avenged once blood has been paid for with blood." Her (e/c) eyes were a maelstrom of anguish and rage, tearing apart cliffs and commanding tidal waves.

"Who hurt you?" The vampire spoke with a gentle voice. But she knew better than to trust the creature's charms. She pulled back and held her dagger in a tight grip, ready to strike at the best moment.

"You. Your kind. Every single one of you." Her brows hung low over her eyes and she shook with adrenaline. "And I won't stop. Not until the price has been paid."

The olive-skinned man let out a sigh as his blade retracted and he raised a hand into the air. (Y/n) suddenly found herself unable to move, frozen in place. The panic was evident on her face.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." He spoke in a soothing tone, his voice was like thick honey and blackberries with a sweet, fruity wine. But she knew that all those luxuries in his tone were laced with cantarella.

"You haven't hypnotised me. Why can't I move?"

"It's my unique ability — I can control living things' ability to move. I thought I could control objects at first but it turned out that what I can control is muscle tissue. I could make you do whatever I wanted right now but I think I need you to stay still so that you don't try to kill me." There was a hint of humour in his tone at the end. "I want to understand you. Tell me: why is a witch hunting the supernatural?" His hand caressed the side of her face, brushing the stray lock of hair behind her ear as her body was moved to a more neutral position where she was not poised with a dagger in her clutch.

"Lower your voice!" She hissed. She scrunched her eyes shut as he ran a hand down the artery of her neck. She didn't feel safe. He said that he needed her out of the way earlier and he could very well just drink her blood there and have it over with.

She had never encountered a vampire with such a dangerous ability before. Fire and reading thoughts were worrisome, yes, but to control another person's body? That was deadly on an entirely new level. At the back of her mind, she willed for a spirit to protect her, to wrap its arms around her and repel the vampire who caressed her cheek ever so softly. But no spirit nor fae rushed to her aid.

"There's no need for that." He spoke up, knowing full well what she was trying to do, "Even they know that I won't hurt you." He retracted this hand to let it fall to his side. "Who was taken from you? Why do you blame my kind? Why must this blood price be paid?"

Silence.

"(Y/n), come on, carissima, I won't let you go until I have answers. Are you a solitary witch?"

"I wasn't always solitary." She replied, her walls fracturing, the thought of finally being able to speak too irresistible, "I. . . I lost my sisters. All twelve." His lips parted in sorrow and he reached up to brush a tear that rolled down her cheek. The witch hunter would have pushed his hand away if only she had control over her body. Ezio knew what witches meant by 'sisters'.

"Your coven. . . I know what that's like. I watched my father and brothers be hanged. They didn't deserve it either, they were innocents. My father fought for freedom and my brothers were still boys. I was still a boy. . ." His natural charms were working on her, luring her into safety without him even needing to try.

"I watched them burn and I hid. I was the only one who made it out and I watched every single one of them go up in flames." A sob shook her chest, "And it's the vampires' fault! If they had only kept away from the town then witchcraft would not have been suspected! We never hurt the people! Never! And they turned on us all because a vampire had taken to killing men in the village! They were all innocent! I was innocent!" A long silence followed. ". . . They didn't need to die. . ."

She felt herself crumple to the floor, Ezio no longer needing to control her into their unspoken truce. Instead, he crouched down beside her and held her as she cried. She cried out all of the pain that she had pent up over six years until she dissolved to a hiccuping mess.

All the while, Ezio ran his hand up and down her back and let her press her face into his shoulder. Every part of her screamed to get away from him and yet. . .

She had never felt so right.

No one - no one - had given her any affection in years; no one could hear her story lest she be burned too; no one had held her and told her it was ok and that she didn't need to fight anymore; no one had touched her in so long and, gods, she was so touch-starved that it made her light up and feel alive, like a warm blanket of magma was slipping over her (s/t) skin that had been encased in a glacier for far too long.

She had kept such intense emotions secret for so many years. They were never spoken aloud, never put to paper. Perhaps it was because she was so close to the end of this long journey that she had put herself on. Perhaps she was just so vulnerable in that respect that she fell right into the arms of the creature who she swore she would kill.

Ezio's hand cradled the back of her neck while she calmed down, fingers caressing her silky (h/c) hair while she gripped onto his robes. He hadn't expected it to be quite this easy, hadn't expected their views to be quite so aligned. His lips pressed against the side of her head where her hairline began, pointed canines running over the skin there as his lips went to hover over her ear.

"We're a lot more alike than you think." He whispered, "I want to stop people from dying in other people's battles just as much as you do. I want freedom for people like you — how frustrating must it be to be human and told you're not? To be made to think you're the supernatural because you're gifted? To fear execution for merely existing?" She sniffled and nuzzled her head into his shoulder where his robes were now tear-stained.

"But if we both want to get what we want, you have to stop helping the Doge. He is a Templar: a man who will stop at nothing for absolute control, slavery of the human race and for freedom of will to be stripped from each and every individual. I am an Assassin: a man who protects freedom, no matter how chaotic it may seem. People like you and I will disappear if the Templars get their way. People like your sisters will die for a cause that they do not know of. People like my family will be killed for standing up for what's right. They will all be killed without a second thought."

(Y/n), beginning to quickly pile up her cold walls again, drew back from him, moving to sit on the floor a little distance from him instead.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" She narrowed her eyes at him, eyeing up all the various weapons that were strapped all over his body.

"Because if I truly wanted you dead, I would have just killed you. You are a witch, no? Why not consult your cards and your spirits then decide?" She thought over his story once more.

"If you don't want innocents to die then why did you kill Elizabetta?" She interrogated, what she knew didn't seem to match with what he was telling her.

"She was a Templar also. Did they take down the red cross in her room before you arrived or not?"

"Red cross? Is that the insignia of the Templars?" She furrowed her brows, getting a much clearer view of what was at play.

"Yes. The one of the assassins is the symbol on my belt." (Y/n) found her eyes wandering down at this, seeing what Lucia had described as an arrow.

"So. . . What happens if I go back to the Doge and I interrogate him about all this?" She pressed.

"Most likely: he'd kill you. They don't like their secrets getting out." Ezio explained.

"And how. . . How do I know I'm safe with you?" She pressed, leaning forwards slightly.

"Because I see so much of myself in you. We're like-minded people, (Y/n). We want freedom, to feel safe in this world and to know that we won't be enslaved or killed for our differences. I know that justice is important to you and in the world the Templars want, justice will cease to exist." He paused, "You're tired of travelling and killing and not having a home, I can tell. You're tired of feeling like you shouldn't have been the one to survive and you have to pay for that privilege with blood. You can rest now. Come with me and you'll have everything you want and so much more." He was so close.

He couldn't tell if he was manipulating her anymore. When she walked in the room, he expected to have to jump into action and fight for his life, to reveal himself to his friend and his friend's apprentices who stood by outside. But when he sensed what she truly was — a witch —, he knew that there was so much more to her cold reputation.

She looked up at him with big glassy eyes, shimmering and dancing with tears that were just about to overspill.

"I just want my life back." She whispered, face crumpling in pain.

"I can't give you your old life back but I can make you a new one. One with a home and no more guilt. One where you can sleep knowing your people will never be wronged again."

She bit down on her lip as she thought over the tough decision. How did he know exactly what she wanted? Exactly what to say? Why had she opened up to a creature that she despised? She stopped thinking about it. All she wanted was an easy life and someone to care for her.

She looked up and nodded her head.

"What do I need to do?"

#huntress #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore #young ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore da firenze x reader #ezio auditore/reader #ezio auditore da firenze/reader #vampire au #assassins creed 2 #assassins creed II #ac 2 #ac II

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recentanimenews · 4 years

Text

Made in Abyss: Dawn of the Deep Soul – Trials Make Love Stronger

I finished the first season of Made in Abyss three years and a week ago, commenting that while I ached to know what would happen next, a long rest was in order, so that I might recover from the emotional wounds throughout that first run, culminating in the shockingly brutal story of Mitty and Nanachi.

Turns out no amount of time would heal those wounds to the extent they wouldn’t be re-opened and—very soul freshly re-crushed—upon watching the continuation of the Abyss story. That’s because the deeper Riko, Reg, and Nanachi descend, the more acute and devastating the horrors they encounter.

This is the third of three Made in Abyss films; the first two were a retelling of the first season, while the third is a direct sequel As such, spoilers throughout.

Case in point: upon arriving at one of her mother’s favorite spots in all of the Abyss, the Garden of Flowers of Fortitude, they encounter one of Bondrewd’s delvers, the Umbra Hands, harvesting tissue from other delvers who have been infected by a parasite that not only feeds off you while you’re still alive, but feeds itself to you in order to keep you alive. Lovely!

Few anime do soaring vistas like Abyss, and there’s something just so otherworldly and dread-inducing about the sight of the Fifth Layer’s Sea of Corpses, along with Idofront, Bondrewd the Novel’s domain. But as cold and unyielding and inhospitable as the spinning ghost city seems on the outside, within resides one of the sweetest, warmest, most human souls they’ve yet encountered: an adorable little girl named Prushka.

Prushka is Bondrewd’s daughter (voiced by Minase Inori), who is initially suspicious of outsiders coming to help her dad when she thinks she should be enough. But once she meets Riko, Reg, and Nanachi, they open for her a whole new world of questions and information about the Surface (she was born in the Abyss).

It’s so strange to see Prushka acting so lovey-dovey with Bondrewd, perpetrator of countless acts of sickening biological crimes, especially since he and his Umbra Hands resemble evil robots. And yet that evil robot still has a strange gravitational pull Nanachi finds hard to resist. Nanachi can’t forgive Bondrewd, but something still draws them toward him. Nanachi was something of a child figure to him, after all, so Nanachi sees Prushka as a younger self.

Bondrewd has bad news for Riko: while she may have her mother’s White Whistle, only the person for whom the whistle was made can use it to activate the altar that will take her down to the Sixth Layer. He offers them accommodations to “think things over”, but there isn’t any doubt his intentions for them are about as far from harmless as they’re all far from the Surface.

Despite her cozy room, soon Riko wakes up alone, and upon exploring, finds that she’s trapped in a small area with the only exit being a stair Prushka warned will cause “strains of ascension” if climbed. When Riko attempts to climb them anyway, she loses all sense of touch and balance, grinds her baby molars away and falls down the stairs, gaining cuts here and there. But she hallucinates far worse: as the very concepts of what and where are gradually eaten away by white light.

Ultimately, the reason Bondrewd does anything all comes down to curiosity and the aspiration to reach the bottom of the Abyss and learn its infinite secrets, same as Riko. It’s just a matter of scope and scale. Riko has managed to retain her humanity throughout her descent. But while has the affable dad voice and general form of a man, there is simply nothing left of Bondrewd’s humanity.

After Nanachi offers to stay with him and help him continue his research in exchange for Riko and Reg’s safety, Bondrewd tells them that, uh, unfortunately, he’s already tossed Reg to his Umbra Hands, who restrain him, slice off his right arm (along with Incinerator) and start collecting his bodily fluids. That’s when Riko, who was helped up to the upper level by Prushka, intervenes, and Prushka learns the truth about her father for the first time.

With Bondrewd showing his true horrific colors loudly and proudly, Nanachi, the most experienced with how he operates, comes up with a plan to take him out. This involves luring him into a nest of giant seven-tailed scorpions, trying to infect him with parasite larvae, and finally Reg crushing his body with a giant boulder.

Naturally, Bondrewd praises both Reg and Nanachi every time they toss a new tactic at him, saying things like “wonderful” and “I’m surprised.” After all, Nanachi is one of the creations of which of which he is most proud, one who unlike Mitty and the others was able to receive the “Blessing” of the Abyss rather than fall victim to the Curse. You’d could mistake it for fatherly pride if, again, Bondrewd had a shred of humanity. But his willingness to offer love and pain and suffering in equal measure disqualifies him as both from being either a parent or a human.

None of the tactics against him end up working, because the Umbra Hand who escorted Prushka simply takes the mask off of the crushed Bondrewd and places it on his head, thus transforming into a new, untouched Bondrewd. Turns out all of his Umbra Hands are him—and his immortality is tied to a relic called Zoaholic. The fight ends for now, and Bondrewd returns home with Prushka.

If Zoaholic didn’t make Bondrewd insane, the act of splitting his soul and essence into multiple bodies still removed what was left of his empathy or humanity, which is why he ends up having Prushka cruelly vivisected just like all of the other orphan children before her. He’s satisfied her experiences with Reg, Riko, and Nanachi helped “perfect” her, and this is the natural next step. She is never told this would happen, and never asked if it’s okay.

Her body is marked with “X’s” to signify the parts that will be cut away and discarded (most of it) until all that is left is a mass of “fleshy curse repellant” to be placed within a suitcase-sized cartridge. It is in this way that Bondrewd staves off the curse; using the pain and suffering of still technically-living children as his strength.

It’s truly skin-crawling, horrible, horrible stuff, and even though I had a reasonable suspicion that Prushka was doomed to a Mitty-like fate, I was still not ready to see even a little of that fate carried out, nor would I ever be. No one would!

By the Riko, Reg, and Nanachi return to Idofront to rescue her they’re way too late, while the sight of the “processing” room brings back Nanachi’s memories of assisting with said processing. When Bondrewd arrives, Riko and Nanachi they buy time for Reg, who hooks himself up to Idofront’s power supply and ends up rebooting in Berserk Mode.

Bondrewd tells Riko that his own White Whistle is the result of sacrificing his own body and soul, and that all White Whistles are made in this way—with a willing human sacrifice, not carved stone.

It’s then when Berserk-Reg arrives and fights on the same level as Bondrewd, ultimately blasting a huge sphere-shaped chunk out of Idofront. He lands in a pit of Mittys—material for Bondrewd’s cartridges, and we’re reminded of all those lights on the wall representing their lives are labeled: he remembers the name of every child, their unique qualities, and how cute they were. Shudder…

As Bondrewd and Reg are locked in an epic battle, we hear Prushka’s disembodied voice as she recounts her life with Bondrewd, starting as a failed subject. He decided to raise her as his daughter, gave her Meinya as a pet, and gave her a fun and happy childhood, ultimately culminating in her helplessly watching as pieces of her are removed one by one on the operating table.

We hear Prushka because she’s now a cartridge that Bondrewd is currently using in his fight, and ends up being his last cartridge. Even after what he did to her, she still wants to help her dad achieve his dreams—even if it means helping him fight against Reg, Riko, and Nanachi.

Thus aided by Bondrewd, Reg can’t defeat him with one arm, which is why he was buying time for Riko to retrieve his other arm. Even disconnected from his body, she’s able to aim it at Bondrewd and fire it, blasting him to pieces.

As this is happening, Prushka pleads with everyone not to fight, because they’re all going to have adventures together. An image of that dream appears in the climax of the battle, and is pretty much the most heartbreaking goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.

Then Bondrewd falls to the ground, finally beaten, and Nanachi stand over him. True to form, Bondrewd isn’t bitter about losing; on the contrary: he’s never been happier to find someone with stronger aspirations, will, and love defeat him. It means they, not him, are worthy of exploring the greater depths of the Abyss, and all the curses and blessings therein.

Riko holds the spent cartridge of what’s left of Prushka, simply red liquid that spills everywhere, and very understandably begins to bawl in absolute despair. But then she notices an object lying in the puddle of liquid: a White Whistle. Turns out Prushka’s soul willingly became the sacrifice necessary for Riko. Now her dream of going on adventures together can be realized.

With that, Riko gains the means to make her Last Dive, along with Reg (who learned a great deal about what his relic body can do) and Nanachi (who found a degree of closure in her vendetta with Bondrewd). Bondrewd, oddly enough, is still alive (after a fashion), but no longer a threat to them, and indeed is happy to see them off as they enter the “elevator” that will take them to the Sixth Layer, that much closer to Riko’s Mom, whatever’s become of her.

Quite appropriately, the end credits pull double duty as an illustration of that elevator descending ever deeper into the Abyss, accompanied by an achingly gorgeous song that is a collab between MYTH & ROID and Kevin Penkin. Penkin, of course, also contributed the score and outdoes himself in the task; his music has been and continues to be a vital piece of what makes Abyss so unique an special.

It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to end this in less than 1500 words, but whatever; this was basically four episodes of the anime comprising a Fifth Layer arc, enshrining Bondrewd the Novel as one of anime’s all-time most monstrous and compelling villains, exploring the ways ambition can mutate “love” into a heartlessly destructive force.

It also ably reinforced Abyss’ uncanny ability to tear its viewers’ hearts and souls to bloody shreds before painstakingly sewing them back together with delicate threads of hope. And with a second season in the early stages of production, the story of Riko, Reg, and Nanachi is far from over.

By: magicalchurlsukui

#Anime #News #RABUJOI – An Anime Blog

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heathbar17 · 4 years

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One Shot Request- Kelley babies Emily while sick

The continued knocking on Emily’s door startled her awake. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and began to sit up on the couch. The balled-up tissues rolled off her on the floor like a mini avalanche. Emily borderline crawled towards the knocking, sat down in front of the door, and reached up to unlock it. Right after, she collapsed on the floor in a heap. Her eyes burned from her fever and she was certain that her lungs were trying to kill her.

“Em?” The voice asked from behind the door.

Emily tried to speak but was only able to grunt. The grunt seemed to have indicated a greeting to the person on the other side of the door because it opened shortly. Emily opened her eyes and saw a glowing figure in the doorway.

“Em? Are you okay?” Emily thought the voice sounded familiar and it sent both a shiver down her spine and a calming effect. After a few moments, the face of the shadowy figure came into focus. Kelley. Did she have a halo? Emily wondered. No, it’s just the light shining in from the hallway. Maybe. Was this actually happening?

“Howdy.” Emily smiled and laid down, so her face was flush against the cool hardwood floors. She heard Kelley rush over to her side and kneel.

“Oh babe, are you okay?” Kelley reached out to feel Emily’s forehead which the back of her hand. “You’re burning up.”

Emily rolled over onto her back so to make sure Kelley wasn’t a mirage. “Flu. Mom came.” She coughed. “Gave antiviral. I’m dying.” Emily’s cough sounded deep within her chest.

Kelley would have laughed at Emily’s dramatic and short sentences if she wasn’t so worried. Emily’s mom had called her earlier yesterday morning to inform Kelley that Emily was diagnosed with the flu after she took her to an urgent care center. Kelley was in Utah and planning to fly back to Atlanta the following evening but quickly moved her flight to late that morning.

“You feel like death?” Kelley asked with worry. Emily grunted. “Well, you don’t look like death. I find your flushed complexion quite adorable.”

Emily swiveled her head to the side and glanced at Kelley with skepticism. Maybe she was having a fever dream. “You have freckles.” Emily weakly reached out to bop Kelley on the nose. The fever was absolutely getting to her head.

Kelley chuckled and the sound warmed Emily. “That I do. Do you like them?” Kelley tried to get her right arm up under Emily’s knees and her left under Emily’s arms.

“Sexy,” Emily whispered and closed her eyes. Seconds later, her eyes opened wide in surprise as she felt her body being lifted. Kelley had her cradled in her arms and walked her to the couch. “Very sexy. This is nice. If I didn’t look like this, I’d be all over that.” Emily made a circular motion with her chin to highlight the current situation. It was then that Emily decided she loved fever dreams. They were awesome.

“I will keep that in mind.” Dream Kelley winked and placed the bundled Emily on the couch. “Now you stay still while I get you something to eat and your next round of meds.” Kelley surveyed the room. Several tissue boxes were scattered around, the floor was covered in used tissues, and a Gatorade bottle without a lid sat precariously on the coffee table.

Kelley got to work. After securing some rubber gloves, she collected the used tissues, put a trash bin next to the couch, and began to wipe down any possible contaminated surface…which was essentially everything in the apartment. An hour later, the kettle whistled just as the Kelley scooped the last of the soup into a bowl. Emily had listened to Kelley and remained on the couch which wasn’t hard considering she fell asleep before Kelley had readjusted the blanket on her. She walked over to the couch, careful to not spill the tea or soup.

Emily’s eyes opened and she looked around confused. Her apartment was suddenly clean, a hot meal was ready on the coffee table, and Kelley sat near her feet. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled happily that her fever dream continued. This was too perfect. Emily gingerly sat up and smiled softly at dream Kelley.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You still have a fever, but I made you something to eat. We also need to keep your fluids up.” Kelley leaned over to tuck a strand of hair behind Emily’s ear.

“Too tired.” Emily shrugged her shoulder and her arms flapped into her lap.

Kelley laughed lightly, “Fair enough.” Kelley grabbed the soup, carefully blew on it to cool it, and brought it to Emily’s mouth. “Open.” Emily complied. “You know, I didn’t really ever picture doing this. You’re lucky you’re so cute. I mean I’d do this for our kids but that’s a whole other thing.” Kelley paused the next spoonful of soup on the way to Emily’s mouth that was open and waiting patiently. She couldn’t believe she just said that. Kelley shook her head and let out an awkward laugh. She mentioned kids! Kids with Emily! They had been dating for only two months and she surprised herself by mentioning plans she hadn’t really thought about. The thought of a family with Emily wasn’t scary, rather warm, but she was worried about Emily would react to that slip. When Kelley glanced up, however, Emily still sat with her mouth open as she waited for soup, her eyes still glazed from the fever.

After the soup bowl was emptied and mug with tea was drained, Kelley started to stand to wash the dishes. Emily grabbed her hand to stop her. Kelley landed back on the couch with a quizzical look.

“Please, stay. I just need you to cuddle me for a little and remind me I won’t be sick forever.” Emily knew she sounded desperate, but it was a dream, so it didn’t even matter. “I just need to be cuddled for a little while.”

“I can definitely help with that. But how about we go to your bed so you can get a good night’s rest?” Kelley asked.

Emily agreed but looked down the hallway to her bedroom. Had it always been that long? She wasn’t sure she could make it. Before she could make her case for staying on the couch, Kelley repeated the sexy fireman rescue position she did earlier when she carried Emily to their current location. “I like this.” Emily smiled.

“That’s because your face is snuggling my boobs.” Kelley bumped open the bedroom door with her butt since her hands were full.

“Yeah.” Emily sighed happily. “I like this spot. I’m going to stay right here.” Kelley got them positioned in the queen-sized bed as Emily continued to say adorable things. “You know, I love every freckle on your body. And your coffee. Although I’m gonna need some time before I crave that again. You’re the best defender ever.” Emily stated matter of fact.

Kelley joked, “I like sick Emily. She is very nice. Less sarcastic. You can proceed with your compliments because I’m sure you’re going to be asleep in the next two minutes.”

To Kelley’s surprise, Emily took her joke seriously and continued. “Okay. Well, I love how cute you’re face looks after a hard workout. All rosy. I love your baking. I love your cuddles. I love how focused you’re are when you do your crosswords. And…” Emily paused, unsure if she should even admit this to dream Kelley. “And I love you.”

Kelley's breathing stopped. Her heart rate increased suddenly and her lungs demanded air. “You love me?” She followed the comment with a question. Kelley had been waiting weeks to say it but was worried it would be too soon. Now Emily was all loopy from her fever and she wasn’t exactly sure if the proclamation held any true meaning.

“I love you.” Emily buried her face into Kelley’s chest as she laid half on top of her. “It’s okay though.” Her words had begun to slur with sleep. “You’re not real Kelley. You’re sexy, nurse, dream Kelley. So, it’s all good.” Her last sentence sounded like one long word before she fell into another deep sleep.

Emily woke up in a cold sweat. Her bedsheets were drenched like someone had dumped a bucket of water over her. The sun had shown through the shades in her bedroom and she wasn’t even sure what day it was. She sat up and tried to gain her bearings. She had the flu but was fairly certain her fever had just broken. The fever had caused her to have some weird dreams. But what were they? Kelley was there. She had soup and was like a fireman. She had told Kelley she loved her. Emily’s eyes widened but she calmed herself when she remembered it was just a dream. Although the statement was true, she wasn’t sure Kelley was ready to hear it. Emily got out of bed and stretched which caused a coughing spell. After a quick shower to wash off the sweat from the fever breaking, she walked out towards the family room.

“Weird,” Emily said out loud. Everything was cleaned up except for a bowl and mug on the coffee table. “Funny, just like my dream.” She said to herself after she picked up the two objects. “Wait.” Emily began to sweat but it was from panic this time. Before she was able to get ahold of herself, the front door opened.

Kelley walked in holding a bag from a Walgreens. “Oh! Good, you’re up! Em, you look so much better. How are you feeling?”

Emily wasn’t sure what was going on or even to say. Kelley was here and if the fever dream was real, she was acting completely normal like Emily hadn’t just voiced her love for her. Kelley dropped the bag on the counter and walked over to Emily, “Hey, are you okay? It doesn’t feel like you have a fever anymore. Maybe still a little dazed?”

Emily nodded and sat down on the couch. Kelley quickly ran over the grab the bag she discarded and brought it over. She revealed a Gatorade and a new box of tissue with the lotion on them.

“Your nose looked so red and I decided you deserve to have the fancy tissues!” Kelley offered up her findings with an eager expression.

“Thank you!” Emily practically hugged the tissue box before she remembered there was a better snuggling option next to her.

Kelley opened her arms so Emily could get more comfortable. “So. I am glad you are feeling better. Honestly, I am. But you are quite entertaining with a fever.”

Emily tried not to flinch, “Yeah? How so?” She decided to act casual but her voice went up an octave and it may have given her it away.

“You say some nice things when you’re sick. Compliments and…stuff. I really enjoyed everything you had to say.” Kelley wasn’t originally not going to bring up what happened, but she needed to know if Emily meant it.

“Ha! Weird. I must have said some weird stuff. Okay, I’ll admit I remember some of it, but I was loopy.”

Kelley nearly deflated. So, Emily either forgot saying she loved her or remembered but considered it ‘weird.’ Emily could sense Kelley’s change in mood, so she followed up, “Actually, I remember almost all of it...and it’s all accurate.”

“Interesting. And from this entire experience, what have we learned?” Kelley asked, her mood lightened, as pulled Emily to snuggle in closer.

Emily huffed, stayed quiet for a second, and wrapped her arms tighter around Kelley’s waist. After another long huff, Emily looked up towards Kelley. “I don’t recall.”

“Yes, you do!” Kelley began to tickle Emily’s sides. Emily giggled and tried to pull away, but Kelley held onto Emily. “Say it!”

Emily yelped, “Mercy!” She snuffed up her nose and frowned in mock anger. “That I need to get the flu shot.”

“Yes! Thank you! And what is the second thing learned or I don’t know mentioned…?” Kelley smiled adoringly down at the sick blonde; she was okay with being the furthest thing from subtle.

Emily pondered the question before the butterflies appeared in her stomach. “That…um…that I love you.” The smile that broke onto Kelley’s face made it worth the nerve-wracking admission.

“And I love you too,” Kelley whispered.

#so'hara #so'hara oneshot #emily sonnett #Kelley O’Hara #get your flu shot!#but seriously get your flu shot cause no amount of herbs are gonna help you #sorry the epidemiology and public health side of me is coming out

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yamraven15 · 3 years

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Short To Ultrashort Peptide Hydrogels For Biomedical Usages

Dbal Types, Crazybulk Bewertung

Content

Ostarine And Ligandrol Improve Muscle Cells In An Ovariectomized Rat Model.

Technology.

Firm Overview For Sarms Ventures Restricted (.

Tumor.

Individuals often have sensations of shame and disgust at their absence of control throughout as well as after binge consuming, which can enhance that cycle of unfavorable feelings, constraint and binge consuming once again. Individuals with binge eating disorder consume huge amounts of food over a brief time period.

This not only causes boosted muscle development however also causes muscle mass retention and also the formation of brand-new muscle cells. This SARM was at first developed to assist people experiencing muscle mass loss, but it's generally used by bodybuilders to stop muscular tissue wasting. GHSRs are also located in the areas of the brain that regulate appetite, state of mind, satisfaction, memory, organic rhythms, cognitive functions, as well as memory. When you take Ibutamoren, you'll not only lose fat as well as develop muscle mass but will also feel better and more alert, improving your health and fitness efficiency. A large part of this reason is how Ligandrol increases your power.

Ostarine And Ligandrol Improve Muscle Mass Tissue In An Ovariectomized Rat Version.

You'll be able to work out for longer as well as can maintain more intense training sessions, which will certainly bring about some major muscle gains. is among one of the most powerful muscle-building SARMs on the market. It just takes a few weeks for Ligandrol to work, also after a solitary cycle. Bodybuilders will also experience other benefits when utilizing Ostarine, such as boosted bone density as well as faster recovery time. Bodybuilding offers numerous physical benefits as well as can boost your physique. When S.A.R.Ms bind to the receptor they show anabolic and hypertrophic activity in both muscular tissue as well as bone.

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Individuals might locate it challenging to quit during a binge also if they wish to. Some individuals with binge eating condition have explained really feeling detached from what they're doing during a binge, or even struggling to keep in mind what they've eaten later on. Most individuals advise that the item is carried out just once every 4 weeks, dbal types.

Modern Technology.

Makers must test each item in independent research laboratories, which must provide their consent for sports supplements to appear on the marketplace. Without it, consumers may question the correctness and safety of the product as well as deny it. Some SARMs had been tested years before they were authorized for use. Although costliness is a family member term, most individuals will certainly agree that the costs of SARMs are high.

Unlike people with bulimia, they don't usually follow this by getting rid of the food via, for example, vomiting, though sometimes they could fast in between binges. BED is not about picking to eat huge parts, nor are individuals that suffer from it just "overeating"-- much from being delightful, binges are extremely distressing, usually entailing a much larger quantity of food than someone would certainly wish to eat.

Firm Summary For Sarms Ventures Restricted (.

On top of that, cycle assistance lowers the possibility you'll experience any type of negative effects. Lots of PCT supplements contain natural vitamins, minerals, and natural herbs such as ashwagandha essence, Tribulus Terrestris remove, Rhodiola Rosea essence, vitamin E, as well as saw palmetto essence. These ingredients will stabilize hormonal agents while boosting body make-up as well as your total feeling of health. But there specify supplements that body builders and also anybody taking SARMs must utilize. Supplements include vitamins, minerals, fats, amino acids, and other valuable active ingredients. Individuals take supplements for more reasons than physical fitness advantages. Supplements include important vitamins, minerals, as well as various other substances that improve your wellness.

Does Vitaminhoppe sell SARMs?

SARMs are drugs and they are not dietary supplements. Using the internet one can easily find SARMs for sale. The bigger retail stores like GNC and Vitamin Shoppe do not carry them, but the smaller independently owned supplement stores are notorious for distributing SARMs.

While BCAAs are essential to muscular tissue gain, it is suggested you take BCAAs with protein supplements, especially whey protein. BCAAs promote muscle mass protein synthesis, which is the procedure of structure muscle mass. It's likewise said that BCAAs lower muscle damages along with the size and also extent of delayed start muscle pain, urging body builders to raise a lot more. High-grade cycle assistance supplements have ingredients such as grape seed extract, Tribulus Terrestris remove, vitamin E, N-Acetyl-I-Cysteine, saw palmetto essence, celery seed extract, as well as hawthorn berry. Cycle assistance shields important bodily functions, such as cardiovascular, liver, prostate, and cholesterol health and wellness and likewise supports your high blood pressure.

Tumor.

Binges may be planned like a routine and also can entail the individual getting "special" binge foods, or they might be much more spontaneous. Individuals may most likely to extreme sizes to accessibility food-- for example, consuming food that has actually been discarded or taking food. https://highgrade-labs.com/product/mk-2866-ostarine/ consuming generally takes place in private, though the person may consume regular meals outside their binges. Individuals with binge eating problem might additionally limit their diet regimen or place in certain guidelines around food-- this can also lead to them binge eating because of hunger and also sensations of starvation.

This time I reduced weight on the scale a minimum of however visually it really did not resemble it as well as I maintained my toughness.

It deserves keeping in mind that Cardarine itself was initially recommended as a way to battle obesity.

SARM-type mass tablets from this team allow to melt fat cells without losing muscle mass cells.

SARMs for weight decrease and also help in building a new one include Ibutamoren, Cardarine as well as Endurobol.

Usually when I stop with my steroids, my toughness minimizes and also I am reducing weight.

I got it for myself, not as much to be getting mass however basically for after steroid cycle.

This would be similar to a SARMS triple stack that is typically kept up Ostarine, except there is a possibility of more size being placed on while cutting. A great dose for this method would be 3-5 mg a day for 8 weeks. LGD has actually shown the most ability of any type of SARM to put on dimension that could be thought about a bulk. rises, and also have had a significant rise in calorie consumption. An advise dosage for this kind of objective would be 5-10 mg day for 8 weeks. If you disable this cookie, we will not have the ability to conserve your preferences. This implies that every time you see this web site you will certainly require to allow or disable cookies once again.

Types Of Bonds In Biological Molecules.

Being unclear of any of the above can suggest that you should not be taking efficiency enhancers just yet-- this is since your body still has the ability to improve normally. Just when you can not improve anymore would certainly I suggest considering taking performance enhancers. Value that efficiency enhancers will not make you rub on their own. As your body responds, you might really feel an absence of hunger, but this ought to not place you off from sticking to your diet plan. The most effective SARMs to buy come with clear and also detailed guidelines.

How long should you take Mk 677?

Previous studies in humans demonstrated that daily oral administration of MK-677 in healthy older adults,8 GH-deficient adults9 for 4 weeks, and GH-deficient children10 for 7 days increased serum GH, IGF-I, and IGF binding protein (IGFBP)-3 concentrations.

A dramatically higher intramuscular fat content of the quadriceps femoris muscle was observed in the OVX+LG 4 group compared to the Non-OVX group. In OVX rats, the fat web content of the muscular tissue did not vary from that in the other teams. All rats received a soy-free rodent diet regimen (ssniff Spezial Diät GmbH, Soest, Germany) throughout the experiment. OS and LG were provided with the soy-free diet (ssniff Spezial Diät GmbH).

Strictly Required Cookie ought to be enabled in any way times so that we can conserve your preferences for cookie settings. It means that purchasers have proper defense when purchasing sports supplements, both online as well as offline. Authorities are reacting extremely quickly and also capturing scammers marketing fake SARMs.

The gastrocnemius muscular tissue, soleus muscular tissue, as well as longissimus muscular tissue were extracted. The GM and also SM were evaluated and also all muscle mass were frozen in fluid nitrogen and also kept at − 80 ° C up until more evaluations. Either left or right muscular tissues were used arbitrarily in either histological or enzyme analyses. In Experiment II, intramuscular fat content was identified in the quadriceps femoris muscle in Non-OVX, OVX, as well as OVX+LG 4 groups.

The continuing to be food in the cage was evaluated regular to compute the average daily food consumption of a rat by separating these data by days in between the weighing and number of rats in a cage. The typical day-to-day dose of OS and LG was computed based on the everyday food intake as well as the mean BW in the cage on the particular week. After 13 weeks post-OVX, all pets were euthanized under CO2 anesthetic. Blood serum was gathered for further evaluation of creatine kinase as a pen of muscle mass damages.

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CRN updates guidelines on SARMs, caffeine - NutraIngredients-usa.com

CRN updates guidelines on SARMs, caffeine.

Posted: Mon, 09 Jul 2018 07:00:00 GMT [source]

If you have not gotten any type of, component 3 has been made to assist you obtain one of the most out of your cycle. Ideal for those who do not take pleasure in having a healthy and balanced level of testosterone. I in fact slimmed down no strength gets no anything generally. https://highgrade-labs.com/product/gw-501516-cardarine/ is actually better than its ever before been training is good also. It will certainly shine more-so if ran in combination with SARMS S-4 as well as Cardarine (GW ).

Nonetheless, they are still associated with venous thromboembolism and also stroke. C4 (generally known as pre-workout) delivers a boost of caffeine and also other components to increase endurance, power, as well as performance. It's suitable for bodybuilders of all levels, however you need to adhere to application directions meticulously.

OS and also LG are still being checked out in professional tests, as well as neither have actually been accepted as therapies to this point. There are no studies reporting in vivo impacts of OS and LG on postmenopausal muscle structure and also metabolic rate. The aim of the here and now study was to check out the result of OS as well as LG on the muscle mass tissue of ovariectomized rats as the standard design for postmenopausal problems. The OS impact on bone tissue as well as animal version as a component of Experiment I has actually been just recently published. Hormonal agent replacement therapy in postmenopausal ladies is related to extreme side effects, such as an enhanced threat of coronary heart disease, bust cancer, stroke, and also venous thromboembolism. Nevertheless, it is still the most reliable therapy for postmenopausal symptoms and also for carefully picked women, advantages might exceed risks. Selective estrogen receptor modulators have useful results on the musculoskeletal system like estrogen, they have fewer adverse occasions on busts and the womb.

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healthrandomcare · 3 years

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How To Lose Weight

Hello, World

Get any eating routine book and it will profess to hold all the responses to effectively losing all the weight you need—and keeping it off. Some case the key is to eat less and practice more, others that low fat is the best way to go, while others recommend removing carbs. All in all, what would it be advisable for you to accept?

The fact of the matter is there is no "one size fits all" answer for lasting solid weight reduction. What works for one individual may not work for you, since our bodies react diversely to various nourishments, contingent upon hereditary qualities and other wellbeing factors. To discover the technique for weight reduction that is ideal for you will probably require some investment and require persistence, duty, and some experimentation with various nourishments and diets.

While a few people react well to checking calories or comparable prohibitive techniques, others react better to having more opportunity in arranging their get-healthy plans. Being free to just dodge seared nourishments or cut back on refined carbs can set them up for progress. Along these lines, don't get too debilitated if an eating routine that worked for another person doesn't work for you. Also, don't thrash yourself if an eating routine demonstrates excessively prohibitive for you to stay with. Eventually, an eating routine is just ideal for you if it's one you can stay with over the long run.

Keep in mind: while there's no simple fix to getting more fit, there are a lot of steps you can take to build up a more advantageous relationship with food, check passionate triggers to gorging, and accomplish a solid weight.

Four well known weight reduction methodologies

Learn how to lose weight which are given below.

1. Cut calories

A few specialists accept that effectively dealing with your weight boils down to a straightforward condition: If you eat less calories than you consume, you get in shape. Sounds simple, isn't that so? At that point why is getting more fit so hard?

Weight reduction is anything but a direct function over the long haul. At the point when you cut calories, you may drop weight for the initial hardly any weeks, for instance, and afterward something changes. You eat similar number of calories yet you lose less weight or no weight by any means. That is on the grounds that when you get more fit you're losing water and fit tissue just as fat, your digestion eases back, and your body changes in different ways. Along these lines, so as to keep dropping weight every week, you have to keep cutting calories.

A calorie isn't generally a calorie. Eating 100 calories of high fructose corn syrup, for instance, can differently affect your body than eating 100 calories of broccoli. The stunt for continued weight reduction is to discard the nourishments that are stuffed with calories however don't cause you to feel full (like treats) and supplant them with food sources that top you off without being stacked with calories (like vegetables).

A significant number of us don't generally eat essentially to fulfill hunger. We additionally go to nourishment for comfort or to mitigate pressure—which can rapidly crash any weight reduction plan.

2. Cut carbs

An alternate method of survey weight reduction recognizes the issue as not one of burning-through such a large number of calories, yet rather the manner in which the body collects fat in the wake of burning-through starches—specifically the part of the hormone insulin. At the point when you eat a supper, starches from the food enter your circulation system as glucose. So as to hold your glucose levels within proper limits, your body consistently consumes off this glucose before it consumes off fat from a supper.

In the event that you eat a sugar rich supper (bunches of pasta, rice, bread, or French fries, for instance), your body discharges insulin to help with the convergence of this glucose into your blood. Just as controlling glucose levels, insulin completes two things: It keeps your fat cells from delivering fat for the body to consume as fuel (since its need is to consume off the glucose) and it makes more fat cells for putting away all that your body can't consume off. The outcome is that you put on weight and your body currently requires more fuel to consume, so you eat more. Since insulin just consumes starches, you need carbs thus starts an endless loop of devouring carbs and putting on weight. To get more fit, the thinking goes, you have to break this cycle by diminishing carbs.

Most low-carb slims down backer supplanting carbs with protein and fat, which could have some negative long haul consequences for your wellbeing. On the off chance that you do attempt a low-carb diet, you can decrease your dangers and breaking point your admission of immersed and trans fats by picking lean meats, fish and vegan wellsprings of protein, low-fat dairy items, and eating a lot of verdant green and non-bland vegetables.

3. Cut fat

It's a pillar of numerous eating regimens: in the event that you would prefer not to get fat, don't eat fat. Stroll down any supermarket passageway and you'll be besieged with diminished fat bites, dairy, and bundled dinners. Yet, while our low-fat alternatives have detonated, so have heftiness rates. Anyway, for what reason haven't low-fat weight control plans worked for a greater amount of us?

Not all fat is terrible. Solid or "great" fats can really assist with controlling your weight, just as deal with your temperaments and battle weakness. Unsaturated fats found in avocados, nuts, seeds, soy milk, tofu, and greasy fish can help top you off, while adding a little delectable olive oil to a plate of vegetables, for instance, can make it simpler to eat well food and improve the general nature of your eating regimen.

We frequently make some unacceptable compromises. Huge numbers of us tragically swap fat for the unfilled calories of sugar and refined starches. Rather than eating entire fat yogurt, for instance, we eat low-or no-fat forms that are stuffed with sugar to compensate for the loss of taste. Or on the other hand we trade our greasy breakfast bacon for a biscuit or doughnut that causes quick spikes in glucose.

4. Follow the Mediterranean eating routine

The Mediterranean eating routine stresses eating great fats and great carbs alongside enormous amounts of new products of the soil, nuts, fish, and olive oil—and just unassuming measures of meat and cheddar. The Mediterranean eating regimen is something other than about food, however. Customary actual action and imparting suppers to others are additionally significant parts.

Whatever weight reduction methodology you attempt, it's essential to remain persuaded and maintain a strategic distance from regular counting calories traps, for example, enthusiastic eating.

Control passionate eating

We don't generally eat basically to fulfill hunger. Very frequently, we go to food when we're pushed or on edge, which can wreck any eating regimen and pack on the pounds. Do you eat when you're concerned, exhausted, or desolate? Do you nibble before the TV toward the finish of a distressing day? Perceiving your passionate eating triggers can have a significant effect in your weight reduction endeavors. On the off chance that you eat when you're:

Focused – find more advantageous approaches to quiet yourself. Attempt yoga, contemplation, or absorbing a hot shower.

Low on energy – find other mid-evening shots in the arm. Have a go at strolling around the square, tuning in to empowering music, or taking a short snooze.

Desolate or exhausted – contact others as opposed to going after the cooler. Call a companion who makes you giggle, take your canine for a walk, or go to the library, shopping center, or park—anyplace there's kin.

Practice careful eating all things considered

Dodge interruptions while eating. Do whatever it takes not to eat while working, staring at the TV, or driving. It's excessively simple to carelessly gorge.

Focus. Eat gradually, relishing the scents and surfaces of your food. In the event that your psyche meanders, tenderly return your consideration regarding your food and how it tastes.

Blend things up to zero in on the experience of eating. Have a go at utilizing chopsticks as opposed to a fork, or utilize your utensils with your non-prevailing hand.

Quit eating before you are full. It requires some investment for the sign to arrive at your mind that you've had enough. Try not to feel committed to in every case clean your plate.

Remain persuaded

Lasting weight reduction requires rolling out solid improvements to your way of life and food decisions. To remain inspired:

Locate a cheering segment. Social help implies a ton. Projects like Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers use bunch backing to affect weight reduction and deep rooted smart dieting. Search out help—regardless of whether as family, companions, or a care group—to get the consolation you need.

Steady minded individuals will win in the end. Getting in shape too quick can negatively affect your brain and body, causing you to feel slow, depleted, and debilitated. Plan to lose one to two pounds per week so you're losing fat instead of water and muscle.

Set objectives to keep you inspired. Transient objectives, such as needing to find a way into a swimsuit for the late spring, generally don't function just as needing to feel more certain or get more beneficial for the wellbeing of your children. At the point when enticement strikes, center around the advantages you'll harvest from being more advantageous.

Use instruments to keep tabs on your development. Cell phone applications, wellness trackers, or basically keeping a diary can assist you with monitoring the food you eat, the calories you consume, and the weight you lose. Seeing the outcomes in high contrast can assist you with remaining propelled.

Get a lot of rest. Absence of rest animates your hunger so you need more food than ordinary; simultaneously, it stops you feeling fulfilled, making you need to continue eating. Lack of sleep can likewise influence your inspiration, so focus on eight hours of value rest a night.

Cut down on sugar and refined carbs

Regardless of whether you're explicitly planning to cut carbs, the greater part of us devour undesirable measures of sugar and refined starches, for example, white bread, pizza mixture, pasta, baked goods, white flour, white rice, and improved breakfast grains. Supplanting refined carbs with their entire grain partners and taking out sweets and treats is just important for the arrangement, however. Sugar is covered up in nourishments as assorted as canned soups and vegetables, pasta sauce, margarine, and many decreased fat nourishments. Since your body gets all it requires from sugar normally happening in food, this additional sugar adds up to only a ton of void calories and unfortunate spikes in your blood glucose.

Less sugar can mean a slimmer waistline

Calories got from fructose (found in sweet drinks, for example, pop and handled nourishments like doughnuts, biscuits, and candy) are bound to add to fat around your tummy. Scaling back sweet nourishments can mean a slimmer waistline just as a lower danger of diabetes.

Top off with natural product, veggies, and fiber

Regardless of whether you're cutting calories, that doesn't really mean you need to eat less food. High-fiber nourishments, for example, natural product, vegetables, beans, and entire grains are higher in volume and take more time to process, making them filling—and extraordinary for weight reduction.

It's commonly alright to eat as much new products of the soil boring vegetables as you need—you'll feel full before you've tried too hard on the calories.

Eat vegetables crude or steamed, not singed or breaded, and dress them with spices and flavors or a little olive oil for flavor.

Add organic product to low sugar oat—blueberries, strawberries, cut bananas. You'll actually appreciate bunches of pleasantness, yet with less calories, not so much sugar, but rather more fiber.

Mass out sandwiches by adding sound veggie decisions like lettuce, tomatoes, fledglings, cucumbers, and avocado.

Nibble on carrots or celery with hummus rather than an unhealthy chips and plunge.

Add more veggies to your #1 primary courses to make your dish more considerable. Indeed, even pasta and sautés can be diet-accommodating on the off chance that you utilize not so much noodles but rather more vegetables.

Start your feast with serving of mixed greens or vegetable soup to help top you off so you eat less of your entrée.

Assume responsibility for your food climate

Set yourself up for weight reduction accomplishment by assuming responsibility for your food climate: when you eat, the amount you eat, and what nourishments you make effectively accessible.

Cook your own dinners at home. This permits you to control both segment size and what goes in to the food. Café and bundled nourishments for the most part contain much more sugar, unfortunate fat, and calories than food prepared at home—in addition to the segment sizes will in general be bigger.

Serve yourself more modest segments. Utilize little plates, bowls, and cups to cause your bits to seem bigger. Try not to eat out of huge dishes or legitimately from food holders, which makes it hard to evaluate the amount you've eaten.

Eat early. Studies recommend that burning-through a greater amount of your every day calories at breakfast and less at supper can assist you with dropping more pounds. Eating a bigger, sound breakfast can kick off your digestion, stop you feeling hungry during the day, and give you more opportunity to consume off the calories.

Quick for 14 hours per day. Attempt to have supper prior in the day and afterward quick until breakfast the following morning. Eating just when you're generally dynamic and offering your absorption a long reprieve may help weight reduction.

Plan your suppers and snacks early. You can make your own little segment snacks in plastic packs or compartments. Eating on a timetable will assist you with abstaining from eating when you aren't genuinely eager.

Drink more water. Thirst can regularly be mistaken for hunger, so by drinking water you can evade additional calories.

Breaking point the measure of enticing nourishments you have at home. On the off chance that you share a kitchen with non-weight watchers, store liberal nourishments far out.

Get going

How much exercise helps weight reduction is available to discuss, yet the advantages go route past copying calories. Exercise can build your digestion and improve your standpoint—and it's something you can profit by this moment. Take a walk, stretch, move around and you'll have more energy and inspiration to handle different strides in your get-healthy plan.

Need time for a long exercise? Three 10-minute sprays of activity every day can be similarly in the same class as one 30-minute exercise.

Keep in mind: anything is superior to nothing. Start off gradually with limited quantities of actual action every day. At that point, as you begin to get in shape and have more energy, you'll see it simpler to turn out to be all the more genuinely dynamic.

Discover practice you appreciate. Have a go at strolling with a companion, moving, climbing, cycling, playing Frisbee with a canine, getting a charge out of a pickup round of b-ball, or playing movement based computer games with your children.

Keeping the weight off

You may have heard the broadly cited measurement that 95% of individuals who get in shape on a tight eating routine will recover it inside a couple of years—or even months. While there isn't a lot of hard proof to help that guarantee, the facts confirm that many weight reduction plans fizzle in the long haul. Regularly that is just in light of the fact that eats less carbs that are too prohibitive are difficult to keep up after some time. In any case, that doesn't mean your weight reduction endeavors are destined to disappointment. A long way from it.

Since it was set up in 1994, The National Weight Control Registry (NWCR) in the United States, has followed more than 10,000 people who have lost critical measures of weight and kept it off for extensive stretches of time. The investigation has discovered that members who've been fruitful in keeping up their weight reduction share some basic procedures. Whatever diet you use to shed pounds in any case, receiving these propensities may assist you with keeping it off:

Remain genuinely dynamic. Effective health food nuts in the NWCR study practice for around an hour, regularly strolling.

Keep a food log. Recording what you eat each day assists with keeping you responsible and spurred.

Have breakfast each day. Most regularly in the investigation, it's grain and natural product. Having breakfast helps digestion and fights off craving later in the day.

Eat more fiber and less unfortunate fat than the run of the mill American eating routine.

Consistently check the scale. Gauging yourself week after week may assist you with recognizing any little puts on in weight, empowering you to speedily make remedial move before the issue raises.

Watch less TV. Scaling back the time spent sitting before a screen can be a vital piece of embracing a more dynamic way of life and forestalling weight gain.