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handy-dandy-monster-candy · 3 years

Text

Inyez

Rating: NSFW Length: 5331 Pairing: Male Bat Creature x Male Reader (both cis)

xxx

Winter comes early up in the mountains, but I'm used to that. I like to sit by my living room windows and look down into the valley where I work, enjoying the way the city lights give the snow a warm glow. I figure myself lucky; I come from a happy family, I have a good career in a field I love, and I've managed to make a home out of the old observatory that sits like a squat little guardian at the top of a hill twenty minutes from the city.

My job gives me incredibly flexible hours, so I work whenever I'm awake and sleep whenever I want to. I've ended up with a mostly vespertine sleep schedule, which means I get to watch the sunset while I break for lunch. I'm a workaholic, though, so this "break" usually means that I step away from active work and focus on replying to emails from clients or looking up resources and reference images for my latest project as the sun goes down, and this time is no different.

I don't even notice the dark settling around me until I realise that I've been squinting at my laptop for the past half hour, and by then, the only source of light is its screen. I have outdoor lights, sure, and there's a street lamp or two on the way up the hill, but they amount to nothing unless they're on or nearby. I sigh and close my laptop to give my eyes a break, waiting for my vision to adjust properly to the lack of light around me.

I'm just contemplating making myself another cup of coffee when the window beside me explodes, and I have no qualms with admitting that despite being over six feet tall, I scream like a frightened squirrel. Instinct takes over and I find myself taking shelter behind my chair, waiting for the glass to settle before I risk peering around it. Adrenaline has made my vision sharper faster, but there's only so much I can make out in the darkness. I know I heard something heavy hit the floor after the crash, but nothing moves in the shadows, so I take the risk and scuttle over to the nearest switch plate to flick the lights on.

There's blood on what's left of the window and the scattered glass, and wide smears of it left in skid marks across the floorboards. Whatever has bled on my flooring is crumpled halfway behind my couch between me and my kitchen, cutting me off from any makeshift weapons I could use to defend myself. I creep around the other end of the couch with all the exaggerated stealth of a cartoon cat burglar, getting my first real look at the thing. It's dark and huge—about the size of a very large dog, at least—and even as my fingers grope for something to defend myself with, I don't take my eyes off of it for a second.

I approach the wounded creature with a skillet in one hand and a broom in the other, using the broom handle to prod gingerly at the thing that seems to be bleeding out on my living room floor. The first few pokes don't garner any reactions from the beast, and so I grow bolder, sending a silent prayer up to whatever gods might be listening that the thing doesn't have rabies or worse. I feel myself grimace as I lift one large, leathery wing to see more of the creature, only to snatch the broom handle back and away.

Whatever it was was awake, and it had been staring right at me with large, luminous eyes.

It takes me several seconds to work up the courage to repeat the action, and only then do I notice that those eyes are dazed and unfocused, shock settling in as blood dribbles down along its flat face. The creature murmurs when I prod it again—nothing I understand, but definitely something meant to be words—and that's when I realise that the thing on my floor is not a what, but a who. I swear and pace in my kitchen while keeping the thing well within sight at all times, but eventually my conscience wins out; I can't just let them bleed to death in front of me. Even knowing this, I know I don’t have the skills for what I need to do, so I pull an earpiece on and dial my cousin on my cell phone, grimacing when I glance at the time on my oven.

The phone rings a few times before there’s a shuffling on the other end, and then her groggy voice mumbles, “Hello?”

“Hey, Maraia,” I say, taking my first aid kit from beneath my sink and slipping a chef’s knife into my belt just in case. “I need your help.”

“Cuz? Do you know what time it is? I just got to bed an hour ago!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s an emergency.”

I hear more shuffling, and then Maraia’s voice is much more alert. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Some sort of bat crashed through my window,” I say, hurrying over with my first aid kit and kneeling in the blood beside the lump on my floor. “It’s hurt real bad. Blood everywhere. It won’t make it to the vet if I don’t do something now.”

“You’re treating a wild animal?!”

“Maraia. It’s dying!”

“Fuck,” my cousin mutters, slipping back into her role as an ER nurse. “You owe me. Okay, tell me what you see.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, and try to turn off my anxiety as I listen to her expertise. First and foremost, I rush to apply pressure to a particularly ugly wound on the creature’s pelvis and thigh, cleaning and bandaging it up as best as I can once I’ve stopped the majority of the bleeding. This is about when I bump into the creature's, er, fiddly bits, barely hidden by a thick patch of fur. I work around them as I wrap him up in long bandages.

Per Maraia’s guidance, I check the creature's eyes and find wide, fixed pupils that indicate significant head trauma; it doesn't seem like he can see me, or even sense that I'm here. Still, I speak softly to him as I work, carefully picking glass and small twigs from open wounds and doing my best to clean and close them with a combination of butterfly closures and careful stitches. He whimpers and whines very softly when the discomfort is too great, but for the most part he hardly makes any sound at all, which Maraia and I agree is more worrying than if the creature were screeching and struggling with all his might.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I sit back on my legs with a sigh, certain that I’ve gotten to every wound that there is to be found. “I don’t think I can move it,” I say to Maraia, wiping my shaking hands clean with antibacterial wipes. “Not without popping something open.”

“You can’t keep it there with you,” she replies, using the same stern, reasonable tone that she uses on her children and patients. “Bats have rabies. What if it bites you?”

“I don’t think it can. I don’t even know if it will survive the night. For all I know, it’s haemorrhaging somewhere and this will all be for nothing.”

“All the more reason for you to take it to a vet! They can treat it there, maybe put it down if they have to. Whatever they decide will be better than what you can do at home.”

“I know,” I murmur, packing away my supplies. “Thanks, Raia. I’ll take care of it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Maraia sighs, and I can hear her exhaustion creeping back into her voice when she says, “Alright. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Sorry for waking you.”

“Oh, bull,” Maraia scoffs. “You were scared and came to me. That’s a good thing. Love you, kiddo.”

I can’t help but smile, despite my weariness. “Love you, too,” I say, and hang up once we’ve said our goodbyes. It would be cruel to leave this poor creature on my living room floor, so I haul my inflatable mattress out of storage and set it up in my bedroom, grateful for the large amount of floor space in the converted observatory. I check on my guest several times during the time it takes the bed to inflate, and then I carry him into my bedroom, careful not to jostle him too much when I place him on the air mattress.

I watch the shallow rise and fall of the creature’s chest for a moment before I look up into his elongated face, taking in his small, black, dog-like nose and the sharp teeth that I can see peeking out from behind parted lips. Two large, velvety ears poke up from the thick fur on his head, motionless in his unconsciousness.

From what I can tell, whatever this creature is appears to be around four feet tall, with long curled toes on each slender, delicate foot and sharp claws on the tips of his hairless fingers. He's barrel-chested from the musculature needed to support both arms and wings, with a slightly narrower waist and wide hips that lead to lithe, muscular legs. The majority of his body is covered in a short, dense layer of dark russet fur over deep brown skin, perhaps a shade or two darker than mine.

Whatever he is, I've read enough books and watched enough movies to know with certainty that I can't take him anywhere—not without possibly endangering him further. The last thing I want is this creature ending up dissected in a lab somewhere, or worse. I scrub my hands over my face and get up to go clean my living room, taking one last glance at the creature in my bedroom before closing the door behind me as quietly as I can.

The first night is harrowing. Batty—as I've taken to calling my guest in my head—has his first of three seizures shortly after I finish taping garbage bags over the hole in my window. I drop the duct tape and run to him when he lets out an unearthly wail, all of the air in his lungs being forced out by seizing muscles. There's nothing I can do but make sure that he doesn't hurt himself further, sitting vigil beside him until his convulsions die down and praying that he'll still draw breath when they're over.

He's unconscious for the entirety of the next day, so thoroughly insensate that I risk calling out a repairman to replace the broken window so that the cold stops seeping in. Other than supervising the appointment, I hardly dare to leave Batty's side, taking my laptop into my bedroom to do as much work there as I possibly can. I clean him up when he messes himself in his sleep, though I worry about him dying of dehydration. To prevent this, I pulse ice cubes in my blender and carefully feed him ice chips at first, being mindful of his body temperature by keeping him thoroughly bundled in blankets.

By the third day, Batty makes as if to swallow, and I drip water into his mouth in an effort to keep him hydrated. I don't know what he eats, so I climb into my car and make the drive into the city, buying a variety of potted baby foods with what I'm sure is a wild look in my eyes that keeps the cashier from attempting any small talk with me. I make it back to the observatory in record time, and though Batty doesn't stir when I waft different foods under his nose, I still manage to coax him into swallowing mixtures of meat and vegetables.

He runs a temperature that night, and I spend most of the early morning hours before dawn wiping him down with a cool cloth and stroking my fingers along his brow when he starts to shiver and mumble in his sleep. His fever finally breaks the following afternoon, and in the fading light of sunset, his eyes crack open. He's still exhausted and disoriented, though, so he only blinks sluggishly at me when I ask him gentle questions, eventually fading back into unconsciousness again. I figure it's progress.

Batty recovers slowly. For a long time, I only hear his voice when he mumbles in his sleep or when he whimpers as I tend to his wounds. Eventually, he begins to communicate with me using little humming noises, or he summons me from other parts of the house with plaintive chirps that break my heart. I carry him into the bathroom and find that he's fascinated by the toilet after startling at the sound of the first flush, though that's nothing compared to his awe when I decide to show off the shower. He's visibly disappointed when I deny his peeping requests to be carried under its spray, but he seems to understand when I explain that we should wait for his stitches to come out.

He gets a little stronger every day. After a couple of weeks, he's able to sit up for short periods of time as long as he's propped up with pillows. He holds his water bottle by himself a few days after that. Eating still takes more coordination than he's capable of, at least when it comes to utensils, but he's happy enough to nibble at the fruits I cut up for him. I take him out to the living room with me when he’s well enough, and there I play nature documentaries for him and keep him warm as the snow falls outside. He stares at the television in reverent silence when the voice of David Attenborough warbles through my speakers, and he spends the majority of the day curled around a couch cushion in a nest of blankets.

I learn that he’s as omnivorous as I’d hoped he’d be, and so I go to the store and get him a few different meats. I cook them with little to no seasoning at first, feeding him like one would a dog, but it isn’t long before he begins showing interest in my own meals, too. This urges me to start buying healthier food for myself; I figure that if I wouldn’t feed it to Batty for fear of his health, I probably shouldn’t be eating it, either. That doesn’t stop me from indulging in the odd treat, and his face when he tastes my favourite soft drink is priceless before he spits it out in shock, smacking his lips and looking at the bottle as though it’s bitten him.

“What?” I chuckle, taking the bottle from his hands and offering him a cloth. “Don’t like the fizz?”

“‘Fizz’?” Batty echoes, and I nearly drop the bottle before I can get the cap on.

“You can talk?” I ask, and I feel my eyes widen when he nods. “All this time?”

Batty hesitantly shakes his head, claws gently scratching at the cloth on his lap. “Don’t know,” he slowly replies, brows furrowing over his big, dark eyes. “I remember some. It’s hard.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, reaching out to stroke between his ears in a way I’ve learned soothes him. “You took a bad blow to the head. I’m sorry that I couldn’t take you to someone who could treat you better. I didn’t want someone bad getting their hands on you.”

Batty nods his understanding, sighing deeply and nosing up into my palm to guide my hand along his muzzle. “Wanted to say all this time,” he murmurs, his soft, fluting voice growing weaker. “Thank you.”

I smile; my heart warms. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. I’ll take care of you for as long as it takes. Do you have a name?”

He frowns again, briefly closing his eyes. “Inyez.”

“Inyez,” I murmur, testing the name in my mouth and finding it fitting. I introduce myself in turn.

Inyez’s face relaxes into a small, sleepy smile. He echoes my name, and doesn’t resist when I tuck him back under the covers.

“Rest,” I whisper, brushing my fingertips between Inyez’s eyes. They flutter closed and don’t open again as he lets exhaustion pull him under, and I turn down the lights to let him fall asleep to the sound of whale song.

Once I know that Inyez can speak with me, I go a little bonkers with the need to provide enrichment for my guest. It’s been a while since I’ve had the company with which to play games, so I’m at once overwhelmed and exhilarated when I stand in front of the tabletop game section of the city mall’s toy store. I grab classics like Jenga and Parcheesi, but I also pick up games like Tokaido, Wingspan, and Betrayal at House on the Hill. Inyez fawns over the beautiful illustrations and pretty trinkets needed to play each of the games, and he’s held rapt by the game mechanics and advancements.

I can’t help but mirror his delighted smiles, watching him delicately place tokens on the boards with his slender fingers. The furrow in his brow as he puts together jigsaw puzzles is incredibly endearing, and he’s quick to summon me from where I’m working to show me his accomplishments. “Come!” he cries. “Hurry, come see!” My name on his tongue is the sweetest sound to my ears, and I look forward to hearing it in that cheerful tone throughout the day.

I buy an extension for the desk in my office and give Inyez his own space while I work, though more often than not, he ends up watching my monitors at my elbow, marveling at my work and asking countless questions. At his urging, I show him my digital portfolio, where I have most of my character designs, logos, and even a few structural blueprints and landscapes.

“Where is this?” he asks, hardly daring to tap my monitor screen with a claw.

“Nowhere,” I say, enlarging the image so that he can drink in the details. “Nowhere real, anyway. It’s a fantasy world.”

Inyez frowns. “A fantasy world? But it looks so real.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I specialise in realism. There’s a lot of research that goes into it.”

Inyez doesn’t look entirely mollified by this response, but he subsides for the most part, only murmuring, “You even got the horns right.”

I turn my head to look down at him where he’s resting his cheek against my arm. “The dragon’s?”

“Yes.”

I can’t hold back my surprise. “There are dragons? They’re real?”

Inyez looks up at me, and I briefly get lost in his eyes. “Of course they are. They’re rare, though. Rarer than most everything else.”

“Rarer than you?”

Inyez bares his tiny sharp teeth at me in a cheeky little grin. “No. I’m one of a kind.”

I laugh, helplessly charmed. “That you are. Maybe I’ll draw you sometime.”

Inyez’s mouth drops open, eyes growing wider until I can just about see the whites. “Would you really? Me?”

“Why not?” I pull up a new canvas on my illustration programme, sketching up a quick little scene from the memory of looking down into his upturned face. He gasps softly at my side and shifts to cling to my shirt, murmuring in his strange language and making soft little cooing noises as I add colour and detail.

“Do I really look like that?” he breathes, looking from my face to the screen and back.

“Mhm.” I zoom in on the eyes, adding depth and highlights before moving to adjust the shape and fullness of the lips. Inyez goes very quiet for a few minutes as he watches the portrait come to life, only stirring to place his hand at the crook of my elbow to call my attention back to him. “What is it?”

“Do you really think I am so lovely?” asks Inyez, voice very soft and gaze shy.

I’m grateful for my dark skin as I feel warmth creep up into my face. “I do. You’re very beautiful.”

Inyez scoffs, but I can tell that he’s flustered. “You’ve only met one of us. Who are you to say that?”

“Sometimes one is enough,” I murmur, gently stroking Inyez’s small chin with a crooked finger. He makes an odd little twittering noise and hides behind his wings, and I feel my heart flutter wildly in my chest. I'm falling for this creature, I realise, and I can't bring myself to care; as far as I'm concerned, Inyez is the best thing to happen to me in a long time.

“Where do you go when you get into that terrible thing?” Inyez murmurs some nights later when we’re cuddled on the couch, his head on a pillow in my lap and my fingers gently stroking his head.

“In the car? To the city, mostly. To get food and toilet paper and other supplies.”

Inyez shifts to look up at me, confused. “You get food in that noisy place?”

I nod, brushing my hand along his cheek. “Everything we’ve eaten here, I’ve bought there.”

“But it doesn’t smell.”

“Smell?”

“The city. It smells, but the food doesn’t.”

I feel myself frown in thought. “Probably because a lot of it is washed and kept in clean places, or in airtight packaging.”

“I smell,” Inyez mumbles unhappily, tucking himself up in his wings. “When may I wash?”

I hum thoughtfully, rubbing one of his velvety ears between my fingers in a way that he likes. “Probably tonight, if we’re careful. If you really feel that bad.”

“I do.” Big, dark eyes look up from my lap, beseeching. “I don’t want to smell anymore. I want to be clean.”

“Alright,” I say, shifting to gather him up in my arms and carry him to the bathroom. “As long as we don’t scrub too hard or get your wounds too wet. I’ll still need to clean and redress them after we’re done.”

“You’ll wash me?” asks Inyez, a note of excitement in his voice. “Like lovers do! Could we be lovers?”

I can’t help but laugh, startled at the sudden change in conversation; I distract myself by fiddling with the shower controls. “We could be,” I reasonably reply, “if we both felt the same about one another.”

“Then we can,” says Inyez as he slips under the spray, cooing softly at the water’s warmth. “You think I’m lovely, and I think you’re lovely, too. It’s really that simple.”

“Is it?” I ask, dubious, even as I pull my clothing off and over my head to join him.

“Why does it have to be complicated? Is it more for humans? Is it not enough to feel safe and happy and goodness when I look at you? It’s like my heart has bitten a big, juicy apricot—it’s full of sweetness and the juice is overflowing!”

“A heart-apricot?” I chuckle, shaking my head at the silliness of the comparison. “Well, I’ll try to find you an apricot next time I’m in town.”

“Would you?” asks Inyez, burrowing against my chest and sighing. “I’d like that. I like you. Can that be enough?”

I run my hands carefully between his wings, earning myself a sleepy little burble. “I think it can.” I curb my enthusiastic reaction to this new turn of events and focus on gently cleaning Inyez’s fur to his satisfaction, and then I blow dry him until he’s warm and redress his wounds. By the time I carry him to bed—my bed, our bed—he’s limp as a noodle and snoring softly in his exhaustion, and I take great pleasure in tucking him in so that he’s safe and sound.

The next morning, I am kissed awake. That night, we kiss until we drift to sleep. Kisses and affection make up the bulk of my ‘duties’ as Inyez’s lover, and I take to the task of keeping him satisfied with relish. For his part, Inyez is content to groom me seemingly at random, running his small, clawed fingers delicately through my hair and humming to himself as he does so. I get a little less work done, but I don’t mind it if it’s to see Inyez so pleased with himself when he’s decided I’m primped to perfection.

It’s another couple of days before I give Inyez the all-clear to fly after his injuries have healed for a couple of months. We have to wait until nightfall until he takes to the air, but then he’s a dark blur against a darkening sky until I cannot see him at all. It makes me breathless when I realise that he’s lost to the night—what if, I think, he decides right then that he prefers the night and its freedoms to me? What if he misses his family, his friends, his former life. When he lands in front of me, panting and exhilarated and beautiful, I wrap him into my arms and crush him to my chest, burying my face against the side of his neck.

“What’s happened?” he asks, petting fretfully at my face and hair. “What’s wrong? Did you think I’d not come back?”

“Yes,” I say, and the word chokes me, making me realise that I’m crying.

“Oh, sweet one,” Inyez coos, wrapping me in his wings as best as he can. “I would never. Why would I? I am fed and loved and pampered, and you are a very good snuggler. You don’t even have fur, but you are very warm! Why would I leave, mm? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.” I laugh damply. “Missing your family. Your friends.”

“I’ll visit my family when my body is stronger,” Inyez tells me, tutting softly and nosing at my ear. “They deserve to know where I am, and they can come and visit us when the spring comes. They’ll be jealous of my roost and my mate.”

“Am I that?” I ask, sniffling and pulling away to look down into Inyez’s eyes. Inyez turns his face away, however, and I recognise that he is shy.

“You could be,” he murmurs, “but it’s not official yet. To do that, we have to—well, have sex. Hopefully more than once.”

“Do you want to?” I ask him, stroking between his wings so that they relax and rustle softly.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” Inyez says all in a gust, looking up at me plaintively. “I’ve been wanting to have sex with you for days. Weeks, maybe.”

I can’t help but laugh again. “You could have asked.”

“I could have.” Inyez pouts. “You would have said no, because of my wounds. You treat me like I’m fragile.”

“You are fragile, in comparison. But you’re right, I would have denied you. Now I won’t. So, ask.”

Big eyes blink up at me from that small, furry face, hopeful to their core. “Really? You’ll be my mate?”

I can feel myself grinning. “I’ll be your mate.”

Inyez wriggles against me, clutching at my clothing with a sudden fervour. “Mine?”

“Yours,” I assure him, drawing him against me and carrying him back up into the observatory. The next few minutes are a blur as we leave my clothing strewn across the apartment in a trail that leads to the bed, and I manage to find a bottle of lube I haven’t touched in months but mercifully has enough for at least a round or two.

Preparation happens before all else. Normally, this is the part where I would begin to lose interest because my previous partners have treated it like a means to an end, but Inyez is so sensitive and receptive that every little touch I give him sends him into a fluttering little tizzy on the bed. His prick is slick and red when it hardens out of its sheath, tapered at the end and thicker at the base. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I play with it with a careful touch that seems to frustrate and overwhelm the small creature beneath me in equal measure.

I drink Inyez in as he squeaks and squirms with my fingers inside him, watching his claws tear tiny little holes in the sheets as he grips them in his hands and trembles like a taut bowstring. When I finally push into him, he makes a noise like an exultation, and I fight to keep myself from coming right there and then when he wraps his legs around my hips and digs his feet into my ass to drive me in deeper. He wants more of me and I give until there’s nothing left to give, letting him adjust for a moment before I take up a rhythm that rocks the bed against the wall.

I need him, too, and I tell him so as I fuck him down into the mattress, listening to him mew and moan and say my name in a way more beautiful than any I’ve heard yet. He clings to the headboard when I roll him over onto his stomach, breathless and gasping raggedly, wings trembling like they’re weathering a storm.

“There!” he cries when I angle my hips a certain way, one of his hands diving between himself and the sheets to pump away at his hard, leaking cock. “Oh, please, there! There!”

“You want it?” I ask, and I hardly recognise my own voice, so low and guttural it is.

“Yes, gods, I want it,” Inyez mewns, almost sobbing with his need. “I’m close. I’m gonna—I’m—Please—“

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay!” Inyez squeaks, not a hint of hesitation in his desperate tones. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay, I’ll never leave this roost! I swear!”

“Yes,” I growl, pushing my chest down against his back and reaching a crescendo that makes the headboard hammer against the wall. I come so hard and so suddenly that it feels like I get pulled inside out from the toes on up, and my vision whites out to the sound of Inyez wailing beneath me. When I come around, we’re tangled together in the sheets and I have him on top of me, both of us panting heavily and both of my hands buried into the soft, downy fur at the small of Inyez’s back.

“Christ,” says Inyez, and I choke on a laugh, turning my head to cough.

“That’s not an expletive.”

Inyez grunts. “You use it like one.”

I laugh. “That’s fair.”

Inyez takes a long moment to gather his thoughts, stroking the skin of my torso with careful fingers. “Would you be willing to meet my family?”

I blink up at the ceiling. “Of course. How many of them are there?”

“I have six brothers and eight sisters. I’m fifth down in the birthing line.”

My eyes bulge. “How old is the youngest?”

“Tiisa? She’s six months old. The oldest is in her forties.” I can feel Inyez smother a smile against my chest. “Mother says she’s done for now. We don’t quite believe her.”

I laugh, shaking my head up at the ceiling. “I would offer them shelter for the winter, but I don’t think they’d all fit in here.”

“Oh, Mother would hate it here,” Inyez chuckles. “It would be much too quiet for her liking. She likes life with the roost. I’ve always preferred quiet. This roost is perfect for us.”

Us. The word makes my heart swell, and I bury a smile against the top of Inyez’s head. “We’ll figure something out for their visit.”

“Mm,” hums Inyez, sighing softly before he sits up and smiles impishly down at me in the darkness.

“What?”

“Again.”

“Again?” I laugh, wrapping my hands around Inyez’s hips as they begin to rock and wriggle on my lap. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Your monster,” Inyez smugly coos, kissing my chest right over my heart.

#exophilia #gay exophilia #mlm exophilia #exophilia fic #exophilia lemon #monster lemon #monster fic #monster boyfriend #bat boyfriend #Inyez #a twink for you monster toppers out there ;3 #My work

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reversalsun · 3 years

Text

Explaining Rainbow Drinkers

I’m a decade wiser and return to the Homestuck fandom with a degree in biology and a desire to use it for evil. Lets talk about Vampire Troll Girls.

We get very little from the actual canon of Homestuck about Rainbow Drinkers, just Kanaya, Porrim, and a few hints of lore scattered about. Still, they’re one of the most interesting parts of troll culture - rare and strange, feared but also obsessed over in fiction and mythology. They may be analogous with vampires in the pop culture fascination surrounding them, but I don’t believe that they’re all that similar in function. So let's speculate on how Rainbow Drinkers could function on a biological level and how they fit into greater troll society.

Rainbow drinkers don’t seem to be literal undead, but rather a functional state that some Jadebloods have the potential to enter into. Yes, Kanaya only becomes a rainbow drinker after “dying”, but death isn’t strictly what made her a rainbow drinker. In fact, I’d argue that Kanaya never actually died - rather she reached a near death state. This state, I believe, did kickstart her transformation.

The most important thing to zero in on here is rainbow drinker being an inborn trait. Contrast this with how vampirism in human mythos is treated like a pathogen - no one is born a vampire, you become one via infection. RD is hardwired into Jadeblood biology, but it isn’t expressed in their default state. This raises a question: what causes a Jadeblood to undergo transformation into a rainbow drinker? Answering this is a little difficult, as we have a pitiful data pool of one to draw from. Nevertheless, we can examine Kanaya (as well as some dubiously canon content) to extrapolate a bit more about sparkly troll vampirism. Kanaya undergoes transformation into a RD when she is blasted through the stomach and seemingly killed by Eridan’s science powers. Off screen she regains consciousness, begins glowing, gulps down some friend blood, then returns with a vengeance. How do we explain this without leaning on the supernatural? Let's start by drawing on real world bloodsuckers.

Little may be known about Alternia, but planet Earth is abound with creatures that subsist on blood. Mainly the trait is seen in bugs and parasites - this lends itself to our cause, as trolls seem to be more insectoid than mammalian in nature. Hematophagy (blood drinking) is a trait that has convergently evolved in creatures across the planet - that is to say, hematophagic creatures aren’t genetically related. The trait crops up on its own because it's widely useful, not because of a shared ancestral nematode. Vital fluids, after all, are incredibly prevalent and are in sure supply wherever animals live. It’s not farfetched to say that hematophagy would appear on other planets - especially planets like Alternia that are host to carbon based lifeforms similar to Earth’s.

We can safely assume that blood drinking would work in the same way on Alternia as it does on Earth. That means rainbow drinkers face the same difficulties that Earth’s vampires do. Blood is not only difficult to obtain, but it’s also difficult to digest. So how do rainbow drinkers solve these conundrums?

First, the method. Most terrestrial bloodsuckers are nocturnal - and not just for the spooky aesthetic. Fluttering, crawling, and slithering in on a sleeping host lessens your chance of being swatted on impact. Almost all hematophagic creatures are stealth feeders, and Rainbow Drinkers are no different. Trolls are a nocturnal species, but Kanaya is stated to be diurnal upon introduction. It would make sense for her and other potential Rainbow Drinkers to have a natural proclivity for daywalking, as it's much easier to feed from a sleeping troll than a waking one. Kanaya is also able to withstand the fierce, burning Alternian sun - a force which is enough to blind Terezi, and leave any troll who walks out in it for too long with a scathing sunburn. Even Jadebloods that are not currently or will never be rainbow drinkers are likely to exhibit non standard troll sleeping patterns, as they live primarily in the brooding caverns - dark, underground caves where the sun cycle wouldn’t really matter to them. When they do leave their caves to hunt, the glowing, white skin of a Rainbow Drinker would likely be a large boon against the Alternian sun’s devastating rays. In Friendsim we’re told that Lusii’s bright white coats help to protect them from the sun. It’s likely the same for rainbow drinkers; the color white reflects all wavelengths of light far better than any other, thus their radiance and pale complexion provides them an extra level of defense when they’re out hunting. Friendsim also vaguely mentions Rainbow Drinker extract in Tagora’s route, where it’s used as a luxury skincare/beauty product that makes a troll’s skin look literally radiant. Very little is said about the product itself, so it may be a hormone or a secretion derived from Rainbow Drinkers. In the case of the latter… Kanaya and other Rainbow Drinkers might just be really greasy?

Now, in canon Kanaya theorizes that Rainbow Drinkers glow because of their home in the near pitch black caverns. It’s true that even with trolls' natural night vision, more light sources would be a boon. Animals that thrive in the dark like cats and wolves can’t magically see without a light source, rather their eyes are specially adapted to reflect even scant amounts of light. Animals that live in true darkness, like those found in the depths of caves, are more commonly blind. If no light is present, even night vision fails. With the mother grub’s natural habitat being subterranean, her special attendants possessing an internal light source would make sense.

We have to change gears now and reckon with the How of troll blood drinking and Kanaya surviving. First: how can a troll survive on blood? We know that all trolls - even Kanaya, subsist on diets of foods akin to what you and I eat. Is it even possible to suddenly switch to a blood diet? The answer is yes. Blood drinking comes in two forms: obligatory and facultative. Obligatory, as the name implies, refers to creatures like fleas and ticks who only consume blood, whereas facultative refers to creatures that have a mixed diet of blood and other foods. Mosquitos for example only drink blood when they need to produce eggs. Rainbow Drinkers are likely similar - mainly eating standard troll goodies, but being able to rely on blood if the going gets tough. Natural resources may be scant in the brooding caverns, and the ability to survive on blood would be incredibly advantageous for those living there. Blood would of course be in no short supply given the population and purpose of the caverns. The implication I’m getting at is well… not every grub survives the caverns trials, or even the caverns in general. Between imperial drones, hoards of lusii, and difficult terrain, the brooding caverns can be dangerous. It would make sense for the troll denizens living there to be exceptionally tough and capable of “recycling” the grubs that don’t make it. Horrible. I’m sorry. But that’s nature.

The transformation into Rainbow Drinker could very well be triggered by shock or extreme physical duress. After undergoing the transformation and taking a nice sloppy drink from her friends, Kanaya begins to exhibit increased physical abilities. Natural durability and rainbow drinker abilities serve Jades well in their special role as mother grub attendants, and I think that’s in part how Kanaya was able to survive Eridan’s attack. That, and the noticeable difference in how she and Feferi were hit. Fef was hit in the chest while Kan was hit in the stomach. Assuming troll biology is comparable to our own, cleaving out the lungs and heart is a lot worse than cleaving out the stomach. Now don’t get me wrong, both are awful, But if one of the two was going to survive, it would be Kanaya - not only is she a durable Jade (see above), but as a facultative blood drinker, it could be possible for her to have a separate stomachs for blood and food. The digestion process of the two is completely different, so throwing all of it into one pouch might not be a good idea. Outside of durability and luck with the placement of the blast, this could be why Kanaya was able to get back on her feet. And she’s a Sylph, a natural healer class. But this isn’t a classpect analysis, so I’ll leave that discussion for people wiser than I.

Jadebloods are stated to be the second rarest blood type out there, and those that are able to turn Rainbow Drinker exemplify how badass the whole caste is. It’s likely that they don’t possess these skills because they’re the chosen attendants of the mother grubs, but rather these traits are why the mother grubs chose Jades as their keepers in the first place. As much as I wish we’d gotten more info about Rainbow Drinkers from canon, it was fun to explore how they could potentially work, and it really cemented Jades as my favorite caste. Anyway, please excuse me while I go draw myself a Rainbow Drinker trollsona.

#kanaya #kanaya maryam #porrim maryam #homestuck #hiveswap #analysis #here i am posting like this is still 2013 tumblr #oh well I'll find somewhere else to host this essay later #friendsim #rainbow drinker #biology #science #theoretical biology

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

just my luck: chapter 1

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Taehee x Reader

Summary (placeholder): Having been cursed to live a life filled with misfortunes, moving to a new city to start anew was, as expected, a difficult process. But things start to change after you encounter a mysterious doctor who seems to know you even though you’ve never met him before.

Notes:

Will contain spoilers for Taehee’s Story.

The ‘Reader’ character will be left unnamed, and there are no mentions of ‘y/n’.

Taehee is trained in western medicine here, instead of oriental medicine.

The reader character will not be based on the in-game MC, other than her looks. The differences are because personally I think the in-game MC and Taehee’s personality don’t really match somehow.

This is basically my version of events of how Taehee and MC meet again. The details and events in this are not true to the game, other than Taehee’s backstory.

For now it’ll be here on tumblr (if and until I move it to AO3) and i’ll be using the tag #justmyluck on the blog for chapter updates.

***

The rain was loud in your ears. Cars whizzed by you, water splashing beneath the tires and onto the pavement as they went by, and people hurried about with their umbrellas that did little to keep them dry in this torrential weather.

You stood still in the middle of the hustle and bustle, your luggage by your side and your broken umbrella hanging limp and useless in your hand. The cold rainwater seeped into your clothes, and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine when the strong wind blew against your frame.

You could feel odd stares being directed your way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your phone battery had been depleted, which meant you could no longer refer to Poogle Maps to get to where your new apartment was. You had already waited for the past hour trying to hail a cab to no avail, and no one was accepting your request on the Duber app.

As if moving wasn’t stressful enough already, all of this just had to happen. But you weren’t surprised in the least—it was just another typical day in your unfortunate life.

For as long as you could remember, you had terrible luck. At first it was trivial things like always getting the shitty prizes in a lucky draw no matter how many times you spun the wheel, and always losing in games of chance against friends. No matter where you went or what you did, it seemed you were doomed to consistently draw the short end of the stick.

Your luck seemed to only get worse as you grew older. Injuries grew increasingly common, and more severe. You didn’t think there were so many ways a person could get hurt—you had to learn it the hard way, from slipping on a banana peel, getting knocked down by someone who accidentally ran straight into you, getting hit by stray soccer balls or baseballs in school… The events were countless.

Your classmates used to joke that you had been cursed by a witch when you were younger. Sometimes you found yourself wondering if that was true after all. There was only so much bad luck one person could have in their life, and you seemed to be attracting a never-ending supply of it.

You’d hoped that maybe things would change after moving to this new neighbourhood. You had even specifically asked for an apartment that had ‘good feng-shui’, hoping that would make some kind of difference.

It didn’t. You hadn’t even arrived in your new home yet, but you could already tell that things weren’t going to change. If you had been cursed by a witch or been fated to suffer neverending misfortune, then moving to a new neighbourhood to start afresh wasn’t going to change anything.

With a sigh and a shiver, you decided to shake yourself out of your low spirits. No point dwelling on these things, you may as well hurry to your apartment before something worse happened. So you picked up the handle of your luggage and continued trudging on, your feet making squelching sounds with each step from the water that had filled your shoes. You’d get home one way or another, and a little rain wasn’t about to stop you.

Just as you finished that thought, the handle of your luggage broke, and the whole thing tumbled straight into a muddy puddle, sending specks of mud flying and staining your jeans.

It took everything in you to suppress a frustrated scream when you dipped your fingers into the dirty waters to pick up your luggage again.

***

By the time you arrived at the apartment building, you looked like you had been to hell and back.

But hey, at least you had come out alive, right?

Your landlord had been surprised to see you drenched from head to toe, and she had kindly offered a fresh towel and some hot tea for you after inviting you into her home. She was a kind elderly lady, and her warm welcome brightened your mood considerably. The tea had felt extra warm as you made small talk with her before taking the key to your apartment.

But then your mood sank right back down to rock-bottom when you realised that you had to carry your heavy luggage up five whole flights of stairs, because it just so happened that the elevator wasn’t working. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone you could ask for help—certainly not the sweet old landlady. You felt bad to bother any of your neighbours too.

So an hour and one rough tumble down the stairs later, you miraculously made it all the way up to your door. You would be jumping for joy if your arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off. All you wanted to do was take a hot shower, lie down and get some sleep. Maybe take some painkillers before that too, because you could feel a migraine coming up.

The apartment smelled a little musty when you entered, but otherwise, everything looked great. It was bare, seeing as there was some delay in the delivery of your furniture, but it was clean. There weren’t any bugs that you could see from a quick survey of the rooms, so that was good enough in your book.

Looking around your simple studio apartment, you smiled to yourself, glad that you had finally made it here despite the many hiccups along the way. Nothing could dampen your spirits now; moving here marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life, and you were ready for your new job that would be starting in two weeks.

You had a good feeling about all this somehow, despite dripping wet all over your floor and even though your sides hurt from falling down the stairs together with your luggage earlier.

Cursed or not, you were excited about living here already.

***

Two days later, your furniture still had not arrived. You had to make do with the sleeping bag you’d packed in your luggage for contingencies such as this. The moving company wasn’t getting back to you even though you had sent them a string of emails asking for updates. You hoped it was just a lack of staff around on the weekends, and that someone would get back to you by Monday.

Apart from that, there weren’t any major problems. Everything in the apartment was working fine. You had made sure to check everything to make sure you wouldn’t suffer some kind of freak accident in your own home—it had happened before, when the ceiling fan in the living room fell just when you left to take a drink. (Looking at it from another angle, you had been incredibly lucky with that close shave.)

The only issue left was the fever that you had woken up to that morning, definitely because you had been caught in the rain. Thankfully, the landlady had informed you that there was a clinic just across the street, so you made plans to go after forcing yourself to eat half of an apple. You didn’t have an appetite but you’d probably faint on the way if you went on an empty stomach, and ending up in the hospital was definitely not on your to-do list here.

It was warm out when you stepped out of your apartment building. The sun was up, and the temperature was just right. Perfect for a walk. You’d probably enjoy it better if your head wasn’t pounding so much.

It wasn’t too difficult to find the clinic. Like the landlady said, it was right across the street, a mere five minutes’ walk from your apartment. And then right down the street was a convenience store too. You’d go pick up some snacks and ready-made foods later — it’d be too tiresome to cook while sick.

The clinic wasn’t too full, thankfully. There were maybe about four to five people inside when you arrived, and after registering at the counter you took a seat and checked your phone. You hadn’t had the energy to reply to anything yesterday, so it seemed that your phone had blown up while you were gone.

The messages were mainly from Seohee, your best friend. You saw multiple missed calls and messages from her, and from what you could glean from the message previews, she had been worried because you just went MIA without updating her on your whereabouts. She had been worried from the start when she heard that you were going to live alone in a new city, without anyone accompanying you.

Grimacing, you swiped right to open the chat, and you typed a quick message to assure her that you were doing fine and adjusting great, casually omitting the part where you had fallen sick and your furniture hadn’t arrived yet. No need to worry her, she had enough things on her plate to manage.

The other messages were from random group chats that you didn’t have the energy to read at the moment, so you locked your phone and closed your eyes momentarily, leaning back in your seat and resting your head against the wall. The doctors seemed to be taking a while…

About half an hour later, your number was called. Finally.

You stood up a bit too quickly, and black spots promptly appeared in your vision while your head started to spin. A nod was all you could manage when the receptionist pointed to one of the rooms down the hallway, while you took hesitant steps forward and tried to steady yourself. Eventually the dizziness subsided and your head cleared up a bit when you read the name written on the door plate: Dr. Taehee Kim.

You repeated the name a few times in your head. It had a nice ring to it. You knocked twice on the wooden door and pushed down on the door handle to enter.

“Good morning.” You heard a deep, male voice, and your first thought was that you liked it. There was a soothing quality to it, and maybe it was an exaggeration but your headache seemed to lessen just from hearing him speak.

You looked up, wearing a polite smile and returning the morning greeting. Or at least, you were about to, but then your voice caught in your throat and you found yourself staring into the eyes of who was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He had thick, wavy black locks parted to the side, and a pair of deep set, dark grey-ish green eyes—a colour you had never seen before. His complexion was fair and otherwise flawless, and you could tell from his defined jawline and broad shoulders that he worked out regularly too. He looked handsome enough to be a model, and you couldn’t help but stare with widened eyes, while heat began to gather in your face. Whether it was from the fever, or because of him, you couldn’t tell.

But getting to see such a handsome doctor… today had to be your lucky day. For once.

The only thing was, it seemed to be the exact opposite for him. Contrary to the tone of his greeting, he now looked like he had just seen a ghost. He sprang to his feet the moment he saw you, and his chair rolled backwards until it hit the wall behind him with a loud thump. His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as he stared at you, searching your face for something… You didn’t know what, exactly.

The normal thing to do now would be to sit in the empty chair next to his desk and for him to do his job, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move a single step. Not when he was looking at you like this, as if he had a million things to say but couldn’t. So you stood there, feet glued to the spot by the door as you stared back, blinking and confused.

He spoke again after the tense silence stretched on for much longer than you’d have liked.

“Is… Is it really you? Am I dreaming? Is this… real?”

In the silence of the room, his shaky whisper rang loud and clear in your ears.

Affection. Sadness. Longing. They were unmistakable in his wavering voice, in his eyes that were starting to glisten with what seemed like tears.

The only problem was, you didn’t understand why. Much less why it was being directed to you. You were missing something here, or maybe it was him. You didn’t know. Your head hurt, and you just wanted some medicine, and then to go home to sleep this fever off.

But now your doctor was walking towards you, each footstep ringing in your ears as he drew closer and closer, his perplexed expression remaining the same. And for some reason you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, much less find the strength to push him away when he stood an arm’s length away and gently held you by the shoulders. Even the way he tried to hold you was strange — his hands were shaking and his palms were barely brushing against your shoulders, hesitant and afraid.

Maybe you had spoken too soon. It probably wasn’t a lucky day at all—when would you learn? Now you were stuck in an office with a weirdo who was getting way too emotional over a simple consultation.

“A-Are you… okay?” The words came out as a timid squeak, and you watched as he blinked, though his eyes didn’t lose the glass-like quality to them. The ceiling light was reflecting off his eyes, and they seemed to be glistening with fresh tears.

“I never thought… I… I can’t believe it’s- it’s- H-How could this happen?”

You flinched when you felt something brush against your cheek, and it took a few seconds for you to realise that the back of his hand was ghosting over your skin.

Belatedly, your fight-or-flight response finally kicked in and you pushed his hand away, putting your hands out to make him step back and put some much-needed distance between you. Handsome or not, this guy was getting downright creepy and inappropriate.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, and I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’ll just go to another clinic-” You turned around, ready to hightail it out of his office, when you felt his hand on your wrist, holding you in place.

“No, wait. Please- Please wait. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

A voice pounded in your head then. An image flashed in your mind, one of a man who didn’t belong in this time period. He was dressed in traditional clothes, and he was holding you with tears streaming down his face. You couldn’t quite make out his face from the blurred picture that came and went like lightning, but the sound of his voice was the same as this doctor’s desperate plea.

Then dizziness hit you once more, but this time it didn’t subside. The last thing you remembered before your vision turned black was the sound of him calling your name.

***

A/N: I will be leaving this on tumblr for now, I’ll probably start posting on AO3 when I have more chapters ready to post. :) I’d love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter and thank you for reading! :)

#wannabe challenge #wannabe challenge taehee #kim taehee #wannabe challenge fanfiction #wannabe challenge fanfic #taehee fanfiction #my writing #just my luck

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cristinablackthornkingson · 4 years

Text

Shadowhunters Short Story #68.

It is a warm July day in 1911 when Alastair Carstairs begins to notice his sister Cordelia, acting very strange. It starts out with Cordelia being unable to join him or their friends on patrol or to go visit their mother, father and little sister, as often due to her being under the whether frequently. According to James, it is nothing to worry about but Brother Zachariah encouraged Cordelia to rest as much as possible.

Then once Cordelia was not so sick all the time, Alastair noticed she began to wear dresses that were just a bit too big for her. After that, he noticed that Cordelia was always holding something in front of her, when she sat down it was often a cushion, when she was standing up and walking around she would often hold a book in front of her stomach, and the few times she was not holding something in front of her, she would have her hands on her stomach.

It took him a while, but now Alastair is starting to put the pieces together and is almost certain he has figured out why Cordelia is being so secretive. She and James have been married for 2 years now, they have both spoken about wanting children and he has often caught James resting his hand on Cordelia’s stomach too, Alastair is certain that his sister is expecting, and he is going to get her to tell him one way or the other.

Currently the siblings are sitting in the living room of The London Institute, waiting for the others to get back from patrol, while Tessa and Will have gone to Wales for the day, to commemorate the anniversary of the death of Will’s parents. Cordelia is sitting on the sofa, once again holding a cushion in front of her stomach, as she reads a book.

“Layla?” Aalstair asks, setting his own book down and looking at his sister.

“Yes?” Cordelia answers, turning the page of her book.

“Why are you holding that cushion in front of you like that?” Cordelia blushes and tries to continue on with her book.

“Oh, um, no reason, I just like to hold something while I read.” She attempts to divert her brother’s suspicions.

“Oh yes? Well why a cushion, is it not rather bulky and in the way? Why not hold a pen or something of the like?” Alastair asks.

“The cushion is comfortable, it gives me something to rest the book on.” Cordelia tells him in an unconvincing tone.

“Alright I will give you that but it does not explain why you are always holding a book in front of you when you stand and walk, or hide behind James or Thomas, or why I have seen you holding your stomach, or indeed why you were so sick a few weeks ago and have not gone out with Anna or on patrol at all for about 3 months now.” Alastair lists off all the suspicious things Cordelia has done the last few months. Right away, Cordelia knows her cover is blown.

“I... I.....” Cordelia falters. Alastair grins knowingly.

“You’re expecting, aren’t you?” Cordelia smiles lightly and nods, pushing the cushion away from her stomach and resting her hand on her stomach.

“We found out almost right away, but we did not want to tell anyone until later in the pregnancy, in case I lost the baby, we did not want to have to tell everyone that horrible news. We were going to wait a few more weeks, but I do not think it will be possible, I am only three months and already showing.” Cordelia softly says.

“You are happy, aren’t you?” Alastair warily asks, fully prepared to kill James Herondale if he has made Cordelia upset or unhappy in anyway.

“Oh yes, I am absolutely thrilled! Jamie is too, we have been so eager to tell you all.” Cordelia says in a joyful tone, her face lighting up with joy and excitement, making Alastair relax.

“I am very happy for you Layla, you are going to be a wonderful mother and I cannot wait to be a Uncle, I will be the baby’s favorite, of course, you know how babies love me, I think Evie loves me more than she loves mama and papa.” Alastair jokes, his smile widening as he thinks of his beloved baby sister, little 7 year old Evangelina Esta Carstairs, who is Cordelia’s double, except for her dark hair, which is just like Alastair’s.

“You will have to fight Matthew for the position of favorite Uncle, he will have the little one in the best clothes the world has to offer and keep him in good supply of poetry and plays.” Cordelia says in an amused tone. She knows Matthew is likely going to be the most excited out of all of their friends, now he has been clean and sober for 5 years, and is the most wonderful big brother to his little twin sisters, Jane and Matilda, he will certainly enjoy being an Uncle to Cordelia and James’ baby.

“Oh I will find a way to beat him, don’t fret. Do you know if it is a boy or a girl? Have you told anyone else?” Alastair asks.

“It’s a boy, the only other person who knows is Jem, he was the one he told me I am expecting, though as I said, I doubt I will be able to hide my bump for much longer so we will likely have to tell everyone else soon.” Cordelia says, caressing her stomach softly. Already she feels incredibly bonded with her baby, she never knew he could love someone as much as she loves this baby inside of her, and he is not even a fully grown person yet.

“Mama is going to be thrilled, and so is James’ father, a child that is half Carstairs half Herondale, he will be over the moon.” Alastair grins, imagining Will Herondale’s reaction when he finds out he is going to be a grandfather. Cordelia laughs and nods her agreement.

“Yes he will, I think I am most looking forward to his reaction. What about you and Thomas, do you want to have children?” Cordelia asks. Alastair and Thomas have been together for 5 years now, they are very happy together and all their friends and family are supportive and loving, well except for Elias, he does not accept or acknowledge that his son is with another man, and only ever refers to Thomas as Alastair’s friend. It is very painful and upsetting for Alastair, and Cordelia and Sona are forever trying to get him to open his mind, they are both just so very happy that Alastair is now happy and in a healthy relationship with someone who truly loves him, they do not understand how Elias can be so close-minded.

“Perhaps, we would not be opposed to it, but obviously it is not as simple for us to have a child as it is for a man and a woman, but we know adoption is an option and we are open to the idea of having children at some point.” Alastair tells her.

“Well if you ever do, I know you will be a wonderful father.” Cordelia softly says, reaching out to squeeze her brother’s hand. No doubt Alastair has fears and worries that he will be a terrible father just like Elias, or that he will end up favoring a daughter over a son, like how Elias clearly favors Cordelia and always has.

Alastair smiles weakly and squeezes his sister’s hand in return.

“Thank you Layla, that means a lot to me.”

A few weeks later, Cordelia really starts to show and she realizes her bump is going to be impossible to hide from now on, so they decide to tell their friends and family. When they walk into the room above The Devil’s Tavern that James, Christopher, Thomas and Matthew still rent, with Cordelia no longer trying to conceal her stomach, they plan to sit their friends down and tell them the good news, however they never get the chance.

The moment they step through the door, Matthew looks to them and his eyes immediately travel to Cordelia’s swollen stomach. His hand flies up to cover his mouth, and a few seconds later, at the top of his lungs, Matthew yells

“Cordelia is expecting!” This of course, immediately draws everyone else’s’ attention.

“Thank you Math, now all of London knows, likely all of England.” James grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

“I am sorry Jamie but I... I am just so happy for you!” Matthew exclaims.

“Are you really? Expecting, that is?” Thomas asks, avoiding being rude and staring at Cordelia’s stomach, unlike Christopher who is gawping at her like he has never seen a pregnant woman before.

“Yes I am, a little boy, in January.” Cordelia gleefully says, her hand resting underneath her stomach.

“Oh that is absolutely wonderful! Congratulations!” Thomas says, getting up to embrace both Cordelia and Jamie. “How are you feeling Cordelia? Do you need to sit? You can have my seat.” Thomas kindly offers. For all intents and purposes, Cordelia is his sister-in-law, as well as a very close and dear friend. He knows from talking to his mother, that pregnancy can be very difficult and harsh on a person’s body. Sophie herself had suffered greatly while carrying Thomas, and Eugenia had suffered terribly when she was expecting her first child last year.

Before Cordelia can reply, she feels a prodding sensation around her lower stomach and looks down in confusion, only to see Christopher with his brow furrowed, studying her stomach, clearly having just poked her.

“Christopher.” Cordelia weary says. “Did you just poke my stomach?” Christopher blinks up at her from behind his glasses, his eyes wide and full of concentration and intrigue.

“Hm? Oh! Yes, did I hurt you?” He asks, completely oblivious to James trying to conceal his anger and not lunge at his cousin.

“Bloody hell Kit.” Thomas grumbles, covering his face in embarrassment, while Matthew laughs himself silly.

“Um, no it did not hurt but I would rather you did not touch my stomach at all.” Cordelia tries her best to keep her tone calm and civil, she knows Christopher is not being rude intentionally, he means no harm and is simply curious, but nevertheless Cordelia does not like being touched out of nowhere, and she most certainly does not like Christopher poking her stomach while she is 5 months pregnant.

“Why not?” Christopher innocently asks.

“It could hurt the baby, for one thing.” Cordelia says, pushing Christopher’s hand away when he tries to touch her stomach again.

“Kit, you know how you very much dislike when your mama fusses over you, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair and such?” Thomas calmly asks. Christopher nods. He adores his mother but is not too fond of the fact that she loves to kiss his cheek and leave a lipstick stain there, and call him all sorts of pet names, her favorite being ‘My genius little boy’, especially in public, around others. No one in The Clave takes him seriously for a number of reasons, no doubt his mother’s constant fussing is one of them.

“Well Cordelia does not like you touching her the same way you do not like your mama fussing over you.” Thomas explains.

“Oh I see, I am sorry Cordelia, I was just curious about the baby, I did not meant to be rude or upset you.” Christopher apologies, earning a warm smile from Cordelia. It is hard to stay mad at Christopher, he is such a sweetheart.

“That’s quite alright Kit, just refrain from doing it again.”

“Well now that that is sorted, I have a question. I am going to be the little chap’s Godfather, right?” Matthew hopefully asks from his position stretched out on one of the couches.

“No, I should be Godfather, I am the most sensible out of us three and will not encourage the little fellow to do reckless things, unlike you Matthew.” Thomas argues, surprising everyone, seeing as Thomas is very much not the argumentative sort.

“I think I should be Godfather, Matthew you are already the twins’ Godfather,and Tom you are Benjamin’s Godfather, I am nobody’s, so therefore I should be Godfather to Cordelia and James’ baby.” Christopher points out.

“Sorry boys, but I am afraid that non of you are going to be this little one’s Godfather, we are going to ask Alastair.” Cordelia softly says. She has no doubt that Alastair will be a wonderful guide and inspiration to his nephew, and she knows that if anything were to happen to her or Jamie, Alastair would raise his nephew with just as much love and care as Cordelia and James would, and would bring him up to be a wonderful and amazing person.

“I am very insulted and utterly heartbroken! I hope you are proud of yourselves James and Cordelia Herondale, you have absolutely shattered my heart and all my hopes and dreams, I shall never recover!” Matthew cries dramatically, throwing his head back and throwing his arm over his face, all the while fake sobbing.

“Shadowhunting is wasted on you Math, you would be an excellent actor.” James says, shaking his head at Matthew’s antics.

“Oh I know, it is absolutely dreadful! I belong on the stage, not in battle!” Matthew exclaims, peeking at James through the gap between his arm and face.

Cordelia and James spend a few more hours with The Merry Thieves, before they decide to pay Will and Tessa a visit at The Institute and tell them about the baby.

As predicted, both Tessa and Will are utterly thrilled, especially Will who is delighted that his first grandchild will be half Carstairs and half Herondale, and Tessa is very happy that the baby is due around the time of her birthday, these last few years birthdays have been bittersweet for Tessa, though there is only a year between she and Will, Will is starting to show his age, while Tessa looks exactly as she did at 21.

Of course it is not that Will is going gray and getting wrinkles that upsets Tessa, she will always love him no matter what, but every sign of aging that Will shows and she does not, reminds her that one day in the not too far future, she will loose Will and she will never be able to have the comfort of knowing that one day they will meet again. However, knowing that this year she will have a sweet and beautiful grandchild to love, makes the idea of her birthday a lot less frightening and painful.

The months fly by, with Cordelia receiving check ups from Jem every few weeks. James wanted to decorate the nursery by himself, insisting that Cordelia should rest and let him do all the hard work, however one steely look from his wife and James relented, and together the two of them decorated the nursery, often ending the day with Cordelia sat in the rocking chair under the window of the nursery, with James kneeling by her side, his head bent to her stomach as he talks to the baby and reads to him.

Just two days before her due date, Cordelia feels the first contraction, when walking through Hyde Park with Lucie, discussing Lucie’s first novel that was published just weeks before. When Cordelia felt the first pain, it sends Lucie into a right panic, one would think she is giving birth, not Cordelia. Lucie quickly helps her parabatia back to the carriage, where Cyril Tanner’s son Edward Tanner, is waiting. Edward was born just a few months before Lucie, and like his father he now serves the Shadowhunters at The London Institute, his main duty being chauffeur, like his father.

Just 2 hours after feeling the first pain, Cordelia gave birth to her son, a beautiful and perfect little boy who is the very image of his father, with thick black hair just like James, brown skin like Cordelia and somehow, big grey eyes, just like Tessa.

While Tessa and Lucie stayed with Cordelia while she labored, James, Matthew, Christopher, Thomas, Anna, Alastair and Ariadne waited outside, in the small area that they use as a waiting room for the infirmary. The boys had come to support James and meet their nephew as soon as possible, while Anna had shown up to keep the peace, knowing James would likely be very on edge and snap at someone, causing a row, and Ariadne had come to help her wife keep the peace, and to be another person to help Cordelia (who she is close friends with) if she so wanted. Before they came to The Institute, Anna and Ariadne had dropped Benjamin off with Cecily and Gabriel, who were thrilled to spend time with their grandson.

Undoubtedly, the two most nervous people in the room are James and Alastair, James worried about his wife and son, while Alastair is concerned for his little sister and his nephew. James has been pacing up and down the length of the room practically the whole time, wincing every time he hears Cordelia scream in pain, from the infirmary.

Alastair meanwhile, has sat quietly the whole time, worrying at his lip, also wincing every time there is a yell of pain.

Now, as he sits thinking of his sister and wanting to do anything and everything he can to relieve her pain, Alastair feels a warm hand land on his shoulder, and he turns to see Ariadne sitting beside him and looking at him with concern.

Years ago, when Charles broke off his engagement with Ariadne and Alastair broke off his relationship with Charles, Ariadne and Alastair became fast friends, both knowing the pain of feeling like you are not good enough in your parents’ eyes, as well as the pain of being attracted to the same sex, when so many people view it as wrong, evil and sinful. They also both knew how horrible Charles can be.

Ariadne shared how though she was glad not to be marrying Charles any longer, she was upset at how he treated her, brushed her aside, almost ruining her reputation while she was unconscious after being attacked by a demon.

Alastair in turn told her how hurt and angry he was that Charles simply seemed to use him, how he claimed he did love him but would never even consider telling anyone else, not even his parents, who he knew were very open and accepting, due to Matthew never hiding the fact that he is attracted to both men and women. It was obvious that Charles loved nothing and no one more than his job.

Over the years they grew closer and closer, and have been very good friends for a long time now, Alastair is always first on call for babysitting little Benjamin and is undoubtedly one of his favorite uncles, and one day if Alastair and Thomas have a child, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Ariadne will be godmother and the little one’s favorite Aunt.

“Are you alright?” Ariadne quietly asks. Alastair smiles weakly and nods.

“Yes, thank you, just worried for Cordelia and her baby.” Alastair replies. Ariadne slips her hand into his and squeezes it reassuringly.

“Of course you are, she is your sister and she is going through something right now that you cannot help her with, I cannot fully understand as I do not have siblings, but you know I love Kit and Alex as my own brothers, I cannot imagine hearing them in such awful pain and being able to do nothing to help them.” Ariadne softly says, trying her best to sooth and re-assure her friend.

“It is possibly one of the most awful things I have ever endured, I have always felt it my place to protect Cordelia, that is why I kept my father’s drinking problem a secret, even though it killed me inside I could not let it affect our Layla. Now I wish I could go in there and take all her pain, I would do anything to help her.” Alastair quietly says in a strained tone.

“Oh Alastair, I understand this must be absolutely terrifying for you, but childbirth is completely natural and Cordelia has the best medical support one could wish for, Brother Zachariah delivered practically everyone in this room, apart from you and I, and he cares about Cordelia just as much as you do, he is your family after all and he will do anything and everything to ensure that Cordelia and her baby are well and healthy.” Ariadne gently explains. Before Alastair can reply, they hear a loud cry coming from the infirmary, causing James to immediately stop pacing.

Just a few minutes later, Tessa appears in the doorway, smiling brightly at them all.

“Mama, are they alright? Cordelia and the baby?” James asks in a concerned tone, rushing to his mother’s side.

“Yes my love, they are both perfectly well. You have a very healthy little boy, Jamie.” Tessa softly assures him.

“Can I see him? and Daisy?” James hopefully asks.

“Of course, Cordelia has been asking for you. Come on.” Tessa gently guides her son into the infirmary, to meet his son for the first time.

About twenty minutes later, Alastair is called in to meet his nephew, and in no time at all he finds himself sitting in a chair by Cordelia’s bed, cradling his tiny little nephew in his arms, utterly relived that both he and Cordelia are alright.

“Well I have to admit it Layla, you made one very handsome and adorable little boy.” Alastair says in an amused tone, softly stroking the baby’s cheek. Cordelia laughs lightly, leaning back into the pillows behind her.

“Thank you, I think so too.”

“Have you chosen a name for him, or shall he forever be ‘Little fellow’ and ‘Little Chap’?” Alastair asks. Cordelia’s smile broadens at this, excitement lighting up her face.

“His name is Owen Alastair Herondale.” Cordelia proudly announces, rendering her brother absolutely speechless.

“I.... Oh Layla I.... I honestly do not what to say.” Alastair stammers. He had not been expecting this at all, but he simply could not be more thrilled.

“Well I do have one other thing to tell you that I very much hope you will have a response to. You already know that we have asked Lucie to be his Godmother, and Alastair, James and I would love it if you would agree to be Owen’s Godfather.” Cordelia softly says. Alastair quickly feels tears fill his eyes, and his throat tighten. Not too long ago he was certain that no one would ever care for him, after the nasty rumors he spread about Matthew Fairchild, as well as Charlotte Fairchild and Gideon Lightwood. Yet here he is now, holding his nephew who was named after him, being asked to be the little fellow’s Godfather, while his friends and boyfriend wait outside just a few feet away.

“You seem rather instant on making me cry today Layla.” Alastair laughs, wiping at his tears. “But I shall forgive you, and of course I will be Owen’s Godfather, it would be my absolute pleasure and honor.” Cordelia grins and leans forward to peck her brother on the cheek.

“Thank you, I love you Alastair.” Alastair makes a face and dramatically wipes at the spot where Cordelia had kissed him on the cheek, before smiling softly at her and leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

“I love you too Layla.”

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importantwerewolfparadise · 3 years

Text

Short Guide To Choosing A Trusted Office Cleaning Company

When it comes to the operating of the workplace, it is crucial that every little thing is organized and also efficient, in order to enable a high degree of efficiency to take place. When a workplace is unclean and untidy, staff members are dissatisfied and are unpleasant within their workplace, which will certainly be exceptionally damaging to your company. It is important for you to ensure that the cleanliness of your workplace is on a regular basis preserved which you are giving a healthy setting for your team to operate in. Choosing a company to accomplish your workplace cleansing can be complicated, but there are specific high qualities that you require to make sure to watch out for.

A company that is prompt, Colomba BG and constantly dependable will certainly be very advantageous to your workplace. Discuss your search with coworkers and pals operating in various other areas, as they might be able to recommend a firm to you that they currently know are reputable.

Some firms need their cleaners to use uniforms, while others enable them to use their own clothes. Depending on the nature of your office, this may or may not be a vital variable for you and also your employees, however if it is, you will certainly be better off picking a company that supplies uniforms. This will permit you to maintain an expert environment within the workplace environment.

These companies will have their very own set of demands when hiring their cleaners, as well as it is necessary that you inspect specifically what these are. If the cleaning business are not able to offer you with a previous reference from the cleaner that they are sending out to you, this could be a problem as you will have a much harder time trusting them around your personal records.

If your firm is heading in the environmentally friendly direction, it is very important for you to choose a cleaning company with the exact same worths in order to maintain this requirement. This will be shown mostly in the products they utilize, as well as they will certainly have the ability to respond to any kind of concerns that you may have about these.

See to it that you draw up an agreement prior to allowing the cleansers to begin their work, even if it is something that the cleansing company does not necessarily require. This will minimize the chance of any kind of misconceptions happening when the job is finished, which could be incredibly humiliating if they were to take place before your own employees.

There are many other services that you might likewise require the company to provide. The home windows of a workplace can obtain incredibly filthy, as well as it might be a lot more effective for you to hire a firm that can clean your office windows, rather than having to search for an extra home window cleaner.

With all of these different services available from many various companies, it can be tough to determine exactly which one to select. Make a listing of your demands and also run this by a few various companies, to see specifically what they can supply you, as they will certainly usually tailor their cleaning plans to fit your precise demands.

If the weather exterior is shocking, then possibilities are your family members have actually tracked their share of dust or snow throughout your residence ... in spite of your best shots to encourage everybody to leave the dirty, wet things at the door. Simply ask any individual that has ever before needed to tidy up after the youngsters have been out playing in the snow or are returning from a day at the beach-- there's absolutely nothing more discouraging than going behind somebody and also cleaning up all the mess. Certainly, if you are already banged with a long checklist of house maintenance duties that run the gambit kind wiping to cleaning up the bathrooms, after that one more task is not precisely the highpoint of your day.

Each day, hundreds of home owners all throughout America have cleansing staffs come in to take treatment of the day to messes created simply by living and having fun. If you have ever thought about working with a house cleaning solution, after that possibilities are you have a number of inquiries, prior to you are prepared to transform over the tricks to your residence so somebody else can do the cleansing.

When a workplace is dirty and untidy, staff members are discontented and also are unpleasant within their working environment, which will certainly be exceptionally harmful to your business. Choosing a firm to bring out your workplace cleaning can be challenging, but there are certain top qualities that you need to make certain to look out for.

Some companies require their cleansers to put on uniforms, while others permit them to wear their own clothing. Depending on the nature of your workplace, this might or might not be an important factor for you and your workers, but if it is, you will certainly be far better off picking a firm that offers attires. If you have ever taken into consideration employing a housemaid service, after that possibilities are you have a number of concerns, before you are willing to transform over the secrets to your residence so somebody else can do the cleaning.

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ianite-simp · 4 years

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dark!karl pt. 5

finally here boys, it’s a good bit longer than the other parts, but that’s cause things are going down :)

The strange black cat was back again. It seemed to follow Karl around his island, sneaking closer whenever he wasn’t looking, always just out of the corner of his eye. If Jordan hadn’t mentioned it when he stopped by one day, he would have been sure he was hallucinating. Cats never showed up on his island. And it was a fairly long swim from Tom or Jordan’s places - so its appearance was really just a total mystery to Karl. It was a cute cat, he’d have to admit. But he was too occupied with his purge preparations to pay it much attention - he only had a few days, after all, to get ready for it. Apparently it was a tradition the others had in their other dimensions, and Karl was determined to do his absolute best - at least, not get completely destroyed by the others.

It was quite convenient for him, the timing of the purge. Any time Tom, Jordan, or even Dec approached him about the results of the judgments, he could just make up an excuse about being behind in his preparations and bolt off. Especially given his physical condition - the strange, cracking pattern had spread across most of his face and was covering his neck and shoulders. Doing simple tasks grew excruciating as tiny chips flaked off with his every move. Luckily he had gotten his hands on a bandanna that he could tie around his face instead of the itchy scarf he used to use (though Tom found the look hilarious, and constantly called him Cowboy Karl). But because of the spreading condition, sleeping became entirely out of the question. As such, he had spent numerous sleepless nights thinking about his judgment. It just didn’t seem right. He was just as loyal to Mianite as Jordan was to Ianite, and definitely more loyal than Tom was to Ianite. So why did it decide he was with the Darkness? Had his doubts of Mianite’s strength really given the Darkness that much power over him?

Is it really a bad thing if that’s the case? He couldn’t stop pondering that question. Mianite was a totally different creature from what he had once been, suddenly seeming incredibly self centered and a bit of a snitch. He was nothing like the welcoming, strong god that Karl had once been proud to call his.

Hello, Karl.

Without so much as a flinch (the sudden voice and hair-raising chill he associated with the Darkness had grown quite familiar to him at that point ) Karl raised a hand in the air greeting. He trusted the Darkness was able to see it, the sneaking thing he was. He was occupied with trying to calculate the amount of spare supplies he’d need on hand for the purge; a frustrating task, given that he’d never participated in anything like it, as far as he knew.

You haven’t acknowledged my presence these past few days, Karl.

A sceptical look crossed Karl’s face. “You didn’t talk to me, I’m not going to be talking to thin air like an idiot just to get your attention.”

The Darkness let out a laugh - strangely, it was a warm laugh, almost sweet. I’ve been here the entire time Karl, trying to get your attention. Just turn around.

Feeling slightly bemused, Karl obliged them, turning to look behind him. All he saw was the odd black cat sitting primly atop one of his bookshelves. “What exactly am I - oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t tell me you’ve been spying on me as a bloody cat.” He rolled his eyes, hoping his exasperated tone was evident enough.

I haven’t been spying on you Karl, the Darkness reprimanded as the cat’s eyes narrowed slightly, I’ve been watching over you, and your preparations. The cat stood up, arching its back to stretch before it hopped to the ground, strolling over to the chests. It paused alongside one, rubbing against it with a faint purr. I think you’ll find something to help you if you’d spare a moment to check.

“Must be a trap or something,” Karl muttered, still walking over to the designated chest. He nudged the cat to the side with his foot, lifting the lid of the chest to check inside. It was entirely empty, with only a violently red potion sitting in a small flask at the bottom. Pulling it out, he scanned the label on the side. “Potion of darkness… this is absolutely insane.” His eyes widened as he read the effects listed. One sip of that thing and he’d be practically invincible. “Wait, I can’t even use this during the purge. Potions aren’t allowed.”

I’m sure you’ll find a use for it, the Darkness said mildly. Consider it a gesture of goodwill.

Karl held the potion in his hand for a long moment, the cool glass bottle heavy in his palm. “Right then,” he mumbled, tucking it back into the chest for safekeeping. It was just a potion, after all. It couldn’t be a bad idea to hold onto it, at least for a little while.

The morning of the purge arrived quickly, the five individuals participating in the challenge loosely huddled on the beach of Tom’s island. Karl felt like his entire body was trembling with nerves as he stood alongside the others, drumming his fingers on the sheath of his sword as Declan went over the rules a final time. “The gods will revive you when you are on the point of death, only that will qualify as a kill. One kill equals one point, and…” Tuning out what Dec was saying, Karl shifted his shoulders slightly, his infected skin stinging painfully from the pressure. He had spent nearly an hour that morning, carefully adjusting every piece of his armour to cover every bit of exposed skin on his torso. The strange, creeping infection had almost reached his waist, his fingertips the only healthy skin remaining on his hands. He had resorted to constantly downing health potions, the only things that offered temporary relief to the burning pain he endured every time he moved.

As Dec finished his short speech, he presented them with the swords of their gods. Karl took the new blade he was offered, eyes wide as he studied the shining blue weapon.

Come now, Karl. You don’t need something like that.

Ignoring the low voice in his head, Karl slipped the sword under his belt for temporary safe keeping. It didn’t seem much stronger than his own, but it was a gift from the gods. He couldn’t toss something like that away.

At the sound of a wailing siren, the group split apart, each person picking their own direction. Karl bolted for the boat he had left at the shore, determined to put some distance between himself and the others. He climbed in, using broad pulls of his oars until the currents began to pull him along, and he could rest his already tiring arms. Glancing back, a faint feeling of dismay set in as he spotted Jordan and Declan not too far behind. By the looks of it, though, Jordan was faltering slightly, as Dec scored hit after hit - Tom only adding to the problem by firing arrows from the shoreline. Jordan had practically reached his boat by that point, it would be the work of a moment to draw his sword, lunge forward, and sink it deep into the Ianitee’s chest.

That was precisely what Karl chose to do. Jordan’s eyes widened with shock as he let out a strangled gasp and splashed back into the water, his limp body vanishing within the moment as he was revived. Ignoring the faint whoops and cheers from Tom and Dec, Karl grabbed his oars, pulling with all his strength to get as far away as he could. Within a few moments he was halfway between his own island and Tom’s, his small boat bobbing gently in the calm waves.

A strong wave of pride and adrenaline washed over him as he sat, taking deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. He had managed to get the first kill, despite it all. That meant something, surely.

Congratulations, Karl. I knew I chose you for a reason. The familiar rasp of the Darkness rang in his ears. A faint smile crossed his face. Despite it coming from what everyone thought to be the embodiment of pure chaos, the praise was nice.

“I’m still not working for you, you know,” he remarked, sliding the sword of Mianite out from where he had stashed it in the boat, resting the heavy blade across his knees.

You wouldn’t be working for me if you joined me, Karl. I’ve been trying to explain this to you. The voice was calm, patient. That’s the difference between myself and those godlings. You can’t lie to yourself, Karl. You and Mianite were never equals.

Karl shifted uncomfortably, his eyes rising from the sword he held to the horizon, scanning for any signs of the others getting near. “Never said I thought that, man.” That was a lie. He knew it was. All the times he had spent talking with MIanite, the god had given him his undivided attention. He always made Karl feel at ease when he spoke to him, joked with him. But when he remembered the scorn that had filled the god’s face when he last saw him…

You deserve better, Karl. Someone who actually values you, cares for you. The Darkness’ voice softened reassuringly. All I ask is that you trust me.

Karl was silent for a while, completely still as his thoughts wandered through the mess of emotions the past few weeks had been. He knew the choice he was going to make. It didn’t seem like he had any better options. But a small part of him still questioned it, the part that still wanted to be loyal to Mianite, his god. No, he couldn’t refer to Mianite as that. He had lost the connection to the god the moment he put on that armour. He couldn’t go back on this decision.

“I trust you.”

The potion. He knew what he had to do, even as the Darkness spoke. Before he could change his mind, he stood, and dropped Mianite’s sword over the edge. It only made a faint splash, before sinking silently beneath the waves.

It hardly took five minutes for Karl to row to his island, ascend the elevator, peel off his armor, and open the chest where the potion rested. He felt something push against his legs as he scooped the delicate bottle into his hands. He glanced down, and met the eyes of the cat. It was purring, and seemed almost pleased to see him. Popping the cork out of the potion, Karl took a deep breath before he quickly downed it in one go. A faintly bitter taste lingered in his mouth as he swiped a stray drop from his chin. For nearly a minute he stood there, unsure if anything was actually going to happen. Then it hit him, fullforce.

An excruciating pain filled him, forcing him to first his knees, then into a crumpled heap on the ground. His skin burning, his insides churning as though they had been coated in lava, everything hurt.. It felt as though his eyes had been ripped from his skull, his head throbbing with the waves of pain that just kept coming, and coming, and coming. He felt himself convulse, his head flying back, his limbs twitching sporadically. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. He wanted to peel himself from his own body, to fall unconscious, anything that would just make it stop,

And then it did. It took a long moment for him to force his eyes open, to realize the pain was gone. His throat felt raw, his mouth dry. He must have been screaming, cursing, without even realizing it. But otherwise, he felt fine. He felt even better than fine. The weight that always seemed to drag him down was gone, he felt positively light. Slowly, he rose to his feet, holding onto the chest beside him for support as his strength slowly returned. It was incredible, he could move ease, without putting any thought into it. He looked down at himself. He didn’t look significantly stronger but oh, god, he wasn’t himself any longer. Every bit of skin he could see had taken on the cracked texture, darkened to a dusky grey. He could feel something wet on his cheeks. Some black substance as dark as the void, he found, when he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. It seemed to flow steadily, soft plips barely audible as it slipped from his cheeks to the floor. Experimentally, he flexed his hand, causing a small dusting of the flaking skin to detach and drift downwards. He felt nothing. None of the burning, none of the aches, none of it. He felt normal.

I’m glad you’ve joined me properly, my friend. The voice of the Darkness, rather than giving him the faint chill he was so accustomed to, made him feel almost warm. We will achieve many great things together, so long as you continue to trust me.

Karl smiled as he reached down to scoop the cat into his arms. The others were always underestimating him, but it wouldn’t happen any longer. No, with the Darkness at his side, he would be unstoppable, undefeatable.

He would be happy.

#inspired by the cool bros of nerf house #mianite #mianitian isles #lrakinidas #captainsparklez #synhd #dark!karl #writing #amethyst writing time

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rotzaprachim · 5 years

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in secret, between the shadow and the soul 1/2

Kanej, Inej-centric. Teen ish, marriage of convenience, 3000 words

(About 6 years post Crooked Kingdom)

Read here on ao3

The apothecary asks her how long it’s been since she’s been intimate with her husband, and Inej almost chokes, says no, she hasn’t been in a very long time. Honesty is always difficult in her carse- dealing with her own past, own demons is hard enough without having to watch other people attempt proper emotional responses on her behalf, and maybe the apothecary senses that because she doesn’t ask more.

----

“It’s legal more than anything. A question of economics,” Kaz said, and Inej nodded, because it's kerch and how could it be anything but? Certainly nothing as tawdry as emotion or desire, let alone love, could interfere with so large a life decision.

Only Kerch citizens can hold berths in the water, and its significantly easier to manage bank accounts and conduct major financial decisions of the kind Inej needs to make on the near daily when restocking her ships. There's one route faster than all the others to becoming a Kerch citizen.

Inej suggested it before Kaz did.

She isn’t ready for marriage, she said. She isn’t ready to be tied to a man, to be anything more or less than herself alone. The Kerch made the whole business easy by never referring to this thing they’re doing as a marriage, all the paperwork is about Economic Units, Civil Unions. There’s so many pages of jargon it made Inej’s eyes bleed. Future children held less inches of fine grey type than agreements on pigs and shipping company stocks, and were described in the same economic language.

Kaz went through the whole thing line by line until the shore she was going to call for an annulment before they’d even gotten the damned thing notarized, or else make herself a tastefully rich and very young widow.

“It’s a contract,” he said. “You should know all the details before you sign your life away.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Inej said, irritated by the last several pages about Property Division in the Event of Medium Sized or Larger Storms, Grisha Attacks, and General Flooding, “I’m not signing my life away.”

“When you get married, it might be difficult to annul if you’ve still got a legal Kerch-”

“When I get married?” she shoots back challengingly. “To who?”

“I don’t know. That fire-tongued revolutionary who writes you poetry and will make you a new world. The Kaelish tavern maid who always pours you a free beer in her bar while you sing about the plight of the repressed. Someone hopelessly moon-eyed and optimistic, who thinks the world shits rainbows and knows what you’re worth.”

“You, Kaz Brekker,” she finally sighed, “are a hell of a lot dumber than they say you are.”

---

She doesn’t tell her parents. She’s not ready for that conversation.

---

She doesn’t tell Nina. She’s not ready for that conversation either.

---

The whole thing was finished in a notary’s office in ten minutes.

Kaz’s gloves were off, more because they both need to be fingerprinted than anything else.

He swore a short, official oath of his loyalty to both her and the Kerch market, promising not to cheat in foreign ports and to provide for and any hypothetical children. She thought of the paid-off indenture and the ship and the found parents and berth twenty-two and and her room in the house in bought on the Zelverstraat and thought that maybe he’s better at doing that than he thinks he is.

She swore a shorter official oath about fidelity and staying true and all her children being her husband’s, because to do otherwise would be bad economics and make her a poor investment, a value-destroyer, on the family line. Because it’s Kerch and of course it is.

---

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her afterward in an attempt at being casual. They’d been sipping at warm lukewarm flagons of beer in one of the harbour’s more reputable establishments and looking out at the water for twenty minutes.

“I’m thinking,” she said slowly, tasting her words, “that Alys Van Eyck is a very, very lucky woman that we came around when we did.” She’s still thinking about the various punishments for women who pollute the family line, which even if motivated by economics over faith as such things would be in Fjerda, are not dissimilar in practice. She’s realising more and more the Kerch neuroticism over bastardry probably comes from having so many of the young men gone for half the year at sea.

Kaz guffawed, which was not a sound she was really used to him making. “You never fail to surprise me, Wraith.”

“How is the Vrouw Dazi”

Kaz shrugged. “Not useful to my purposes anymore. Wylan’s got her an Bajan set up in a little cottage outside Pijl with a tidy sum tied to not making too much noise.”

Sometimes she fantasized about breaking into that cottage and putting on a performance similar to the one that sent Pekka Rollins screaming from Ketterdam. She didn’t, because she didn’t subscribe to the idea of the sins of the father and thought Saartje Kazanja deserved a da with his mental pieces mostly intact. But saints take all, she wanted too.

“How’s Saartje?”

“I don’t know. Kid? Looks more like she could be ours than Jan Van Eyck’s, that’s for sure.

The tips of Kaz’s ears went red before he finished that sentence and he stared into the foam at the bottom of his glass, head turned decisively away from her.

“Fine, I think. In school now. No reason to keep tabs.”

They toasted her new Kerch citizenship. Inej swore she saw his hand shaking.

----

Her citizenship documents, stamped with a wax seal of three flying fish and a small Kerch flag came three days later, expedited by Kaz in ways she cannot begin to fathom. It’s only then she realised that they’re for the new Vrouw Rietveld, that she made her vows to Kasper Rietveld. It’s only logical- Rietveld can be the upstanding businessman who only exists on paper in a way Kaz Brekker cannot, all the better for her dowings, but it still feels like a piece of himself gifted to her.

She could forge Rietveld’s name for her own purposes too; they practiced on old betting slips that she then threw into the fire. Kerch women can legally make almost every kind of financial decision and dealing, less due to the Merchers’ Council’s upstanding opinion of the female gender than the portion of the year the men are at sea, the incredible odds they won’t come back.

(They’ve rather flipped that scenario.

“How much cross-stitch will you do do fill up the void of my absences, she chided him. “They say the old sailor’s wives used to knit lace from the white froth of the sea.” Nowadays Wealthy Kerch women waiting for their husbands to come home tended to stick to knitting hats and scarves for orphans. So saints-damned many hats and socks, and yet you could still scarcely move for the number of bare-headed, barefoot orphans come winter. It was one of Ketterdam’s greatest mysteries.

“Inej,” Kaz sayid, eyes closed, genuine concern cutting his voice. Ever more she was picking up a sailor’s sense of gallows humour.)

---

They exchanged rings at the registry. Inej’s was a simple band, no gemstones but she suspected it was solid gold. Inside was etched a wave pattern, an endless strip of open sea.

Wearing it on her finger meant something, soo she looped it onto a sturdy chain that she hid between her shirt and her beating heart. That seemed appropriate, doable. Young sailors often took the bracelets and handkerchiefs of their sweethearts out to sea as good luck tokens; Inej had a gold wedding band.

Kaz’s fingers brushed the chain in the warm dip between neck and collar as he said goodbye to her on the docks, and after she nodded infinitesimally, telling him to go on, finish this chapter of the story, he slowly pulled up the rest of the chain and found the band.

“I thought-” he said, but she looked him in the eyes, square as she could, and he halted. She doesn’t know what he thought.

“There was not and is not and will probably me a different man for me than you, Kaz Brekker.

He swallowed thickly and then slowly lifted her skin-warmed band to his lips, even though he did not believe in luck, had said he believed in nothing but her.

---

The Kerch don’t have seperate words for “husband’ and “man.”

---

“Mijn mann,” she says in response to the curious looks her crew gives her after the band slips free during repair work, and it doesn’t feel like anything more or less than the truth.

“Mijn mann,” she says tacitly when border authorities raise their eyebrows in suspicion at her Kerch passport.

“Mijn mann,” she begins her letters back to him. “Dearest Inej,” his come back, sometimes even “Loveliest Inej,” but he never uses a possessive pronoun form.

---

Having any kind of passport, official documentation, feels alien and strange. She comes from a people without a land, and for her entire childhood they Suli were denied any official documentation of Ravkan citizenship. That’s changing now, but many are still wary, and with very good reason to be.

---

The quick bureaucratic sketch to mark Vrouw Inej Rietveld as a Seetsen Van Det Kerchrepublik, looked absolutely nothing like the drawings on the three individual sets of national wanted posters that keep cropping up in seedy port cities. Absolutely none of the above get her nose right.

“I look white in this one,” she said, holding a particularly egregious example up to Aigerim, who commiserate mightily. “Look how fucking straight this nose is. No eyebrows.”

Hitting the nose furnishes very fun target practice for when her fingers itch to throw knives.

Inej wins a lot of games of darts in a lot of seamy seaside pubs tucked into a lot of different gritty port cities.

---

They dock in Pijl before Ketterdam to catch their breath and do repairs. Ketterdam’s a good place for business and to look for secrets and plan strategy but a shite location to re-sew a sail or patch up a wall, unless you like replacing your supplies every time they’re stolen. The prices of grain and barrels of water and apples are lower are lower closer to the fields as well, even if that involves bartering loudly in a Centraalmarket that smells like spilled cider and pig shit, straw crunching underfoot, rather than the hallowed halls of the Exchange.

It takes her three days to come down with the evil hybrid chest cold-stomache flu of her fucking life. Ameera shoves her back into bed with ginger tea and another blanket. The thing they don’t tell you about awesome pirate ships with awesome international crews is that you also get the full spectrum of awesome international germs.

By the fourth day, she’s putting on all three of her coats and stuffing a wad of kruge and her passport into a pocket to visit the clinic in town.

---

Other people seem to register this whole being-married business than Inej ever does. She just prefers the expedited customs lines.

The splotchy faced, matronly woman at the clinic sits her on a paper-covered table and reads through a list of questions on a clipboard. Nian loves the lab smell of pure alcohol, would probably dab it on as perfume if she could, but Inej only associates it with injury, with being patched and stitched up after a bad scrape, with the white-coated doctor who came in every two weeks to swab Tante Heleen’s girls for disease, with the brown bottle of the stuff she uses to clean blood and worse off of her knives.

“Family history of pulmonary infections?” the woman asks her. “Smoking, alcohol, jurda use?” Every question makes her squirm slightly, as if in the historyof her wheezing lunghs is some sin she’s committed and will only now find out about. Nejn, nejn, nejn. Inej forgot how much she hated being looked at.

No grisha in her family that she knows of- scribble scribble scribble- but a lot of bad eyesight.

“When was the last time you had intimate relations with your husband?” the woman asks bluntly, and that’s the question that knocks the air out from her. The woman’s thin yellow eyebrow quirks up, but Inej manages to disguise her gasp as a particularly bad fit of hacking. She knows its nothing but a bit of intrusive medical questioning, but words can have many meanings and the answers to questions can be both yes and no at the same time and a certain turn of phrase can punch like a fist and cut like a knife. So she just says “six months ago,” and gives the woman her answer for the write-up.

“Long time.”

“He’s a sailor. I cry as I wait for him to return to me.”

“Ghezen’s speed that he does.”

---

She isn’t quite sure the Kerch even believe in Ghezen as anything beyond a bit of window-dressing to their financial affairs and the punchlien to jokes. Not like she honours her saints, the small painted icon of Sankta Inej she also keeps next to her heart, her daily prayers in the dark comfort her her room. She stands with Merjan, one of her crewmates, at the grave of Sankta Mahari, Queen of Mercy and Patroness of the Lost as they read the ancient prayers together, their voices settling into the steadiness of bees. Our queen, protector of our people, give us mercy, pray for peace, pray for us, pray to bring light to the shadows of the things we have done.

Sankta Anastasia, Sankt Dmitri, Sankta Mahari, she whispers into her knuckles, her fingers moving along the prayer rope with the decisive snapping of wooden beats, pray for our safety in the storm and bring us to the shore.

---

If Inej has found her own name, written with a familar jagged hand, among the prayer-knots tied to the Zentzbridge in a plea of mercy from the sea, she will not mention it.

---

Ketterdam is ugly and bright and familiear. You can smell the rotting flesh and beer smell before you see the smoky smudge of the city on the horizon. The crew makes quick work of unfolding the grishaworked official three-flying-fish flag that gives them clearance to enter the harbour without having their decks searched by the council of tides and carefully docks at Berth 22. Considering that the berths are now being numbered out into the two-hundereds, its a plum location, but its also damn close to the action, meaning that she can already see the glimmer of plastic beads floating on the water, the dark smudges of drunkards bobbing along. A few of the crew memebrs are going to get their pockets picked right off the bat. Inej already has a slush fund tucked away for precisily this reason. She’s getting better at this, she hopes, being a leader. Predicting what will happena dn why and when. Being someone that other people- many younger and more vulnerable than her- can rely on.

“AIGERIM,” she screams as she buttons up her city coat, “only two of thsoe pink trinks with the paper umbrellas MAXIMUM. You hear me?”

“Yeah, boss.”

She sighs. She doesn’t want to be anyone’s boss. “If there’s anything like what happened with the canal and the Stadwatch last time happens again, I think I’ll find the decks need a good scrubbing.”

Aigerim gestures wildly. “Course, boss..”

She tries to take deep rbeaths to calm her nerves. Maybe she’s becoming a worried old crone forty years early, but she’s the one who survived this hellhole of a city. She’s the one who survived this far. In this world, twenty-three is a badge of honour.

---

He cuts a familar figure on the docks. THey each have their own webs now, know of each other’s doings three or four times removed, like recognising a faovrite drinking song on it’s third round of translation. The recognition of a familiar trick, hand, murder method. Kaz will read in a news paper of a mysterious storm that’s tripled the price of indigo and sweet-wood fans after a whole line of ships went missing off the Southern Pelagic Reefs and Inej will hear in a greasy Kaelish bar about the shocking downfall of an old Kerch trading family and they will each smile, privately, and admire the other’s handiwork.

But seeing him in person is something altogether different, and she still rushes over the slats of the quay, coat streaming behind her, stopping abruptly when she comes to him. They pause there for a second and then he lifts his arms and they wrap themselves together around each other, hesitantly but then warmly, firmly, sturdy as a sailor’s knot and with all the inevitability of the sea wearing stone to sand.

“I’ve missed you, Wraith,” he says into her hair and she shrugs into him, her head level with his chest. His chin rests neatly on her head now, if he leans down slighlty, and she swears that wasnt the case the first time they embraced, the first time she left Ketterdam. He denies that the Ice Court, Van Eyck, all that happened while he was a boy not finished with growing. Yet she herself’s tried on that first Wraith outfit- a costume of sorts, really, how different was it from the Scarab Queen’s glass-bead veil in the third act of the Komedie Brute- to find it no longer fit, that she couldn’t easily do up the buttons on the front. She has more of a woman’s set of curves to her hips and long, hard-earned muscles on her legs and thighs, and even if she is creating some new kind of legend it is under her own name now.

Sometimes, Ketterdam feels like that too-small jacket; it cannot fit the woman she’s becoming. So she sews herself a new coat from the fabric of the world.

“Mijn mann,” she says, because she likes the way his body flinches and then stills under her fingers with those words, sharp and unexpected as any knife. “I’ve missed you too.”

#my writings #kanej #i'm surreee there's spelling mistakes #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x inej #kaz brekker x inej ghafa #kanej fic #six of crows fic #grishaverse fic

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Four

A/N: I can see that I’ve gained quite a few followers for this particular story over the past week since I posted chapter three! I just want to say welcome, and I hope you enjoy the ride!

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

Roman climbed in the car, where Damien was already waiting. He appeared to have finally gotten some of his voice back, because he said, “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. “I much prefer jeans and a t-shirt to any dress I’ve had to wear, ever.”

“Understandable, but I wasn’t referring to your clothes,” Damien said. “You’re holding your head high, your shoulders are back and squared, and your voice is more confident and more compassionate at once. You come across as...well...regal.”

“I’m acting like a prince, you mean?” Roman asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I...suppose so,” Damien said with a sheepish grin. “It does sound silly, doesn’t it?”

“Only a little,” Roman laughed. “It’s easy to forget that people see you as royalty sometimes, until it’s thrown in your face. Because I don’t feel any different than any of my other, non-royal friends.”

“True. We’re all human at the end of the day,” Damien agreed. “And human nature seems to be forgetting that fact.”

Roman laughed as they drove into town, and Damien asked, “So, a paint bar? Or grabbing art supplies?”

“I think I’d rather just get the art supplies,” Roman said. “That way, we can save whatever materials we don’t use for a later date.”

Damien nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed. “Virgil, do you know where the art store is?”

Virgil sighed. “Yes, I’ll take you there, but I won’t be happy about it. And if you get paint splatter everywhere again, I will be telling your parents how your clothes got ruined.”

“It’s nothing a little rubbing alcohol and laundry detergent couldn’t fix,” Damien protested.

Roman snickered. “Not much of an artist, then?” he asked.

“I will admit I have had...multiple issues when it comes to art supplies. It wasn’t just the glitter when I was young,” Damien said.

“Yeah, he tried pottery, painting, dry media, wet media, any and everything, right down to graphite pencils and later, photography. He always ends up covered in something,” Virgil piped up.

Damien sighed. “Thank you, Virgil, for enlightening Roman to my shortcomings.”

“You’re welcome!” Virgil responded brightly.

“No, I—” Damien cut himself short. “You know what? Fine. Whatever.”

Roman laughed as they pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. “Oh, come on, Damien, it’s funny! And it’s nice to know that you’re not perfect.”

Damien rolled his eyes and they made their way inside the store, Virgil beside them all the while, glancing around. “I’ll let you take the lead on finding paints,” Damien said. “I assume you’d know far more about what is and isn’t a good paint brand from experience. Just bear in mind that I’m a beginner, so please be kind and explain art jargon if I ask?”

“Of course,” Roman said with a smile. “I’m always willing to explain to someone who wants to learn! Remus and I used to talk about the things we had learned from different experiments in our preferred arts. I enjoyed painting and drawing, mostly different scenes of places I’d been or would like to go. Remus preferred writing. Often violent, gruesome, and dark stories, but it made him happy whenever he thought of something new. We’d swap creations and tell each other what we liked about them. I miss those days...It’s not that we couldn’t do it anymore, but we have less time to pursue our passion projects.”

“I know the feeling,” Damien sighed. “I am pursuing a degree in History, but I would love to teach philosophy, given half the chance.”

“Really?” Roman asked in mild surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Most people don’t,” Damien replied easily. “But I loved reading about philosophy ever since I was a young child.”

“Huh,” Roman said. “The more you know.”

“Indeed,” Damien said. “Now. The paints?”

“Oh! Right,” Roman said, heading further inside the store in the general direction he thought the paints might be. Damien gave him an amused smile and Roman rolled his eyes. “Shut up. You’ve been distracted by conversation before, surely?”

“I will admit to nothing,” Damien said simply, but he was smirking.

“That’s basically saying yes,” Roman informed him.

“Ah, but it is not a definitive answer,” Damien pointed out.

Roman rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Damien. Damien laughed. “Not very princely behavior,” he teased.

“It’s just us here, no one has to say anything,” Roman shot back.

Damien’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ah, but what if I want to? You may have to buy my silence.”

“Oh yeah? And how would I do that?” Roman asked.

Damien smiled enigmatically.

“Oh come on, that’s mean!” Roman laughed. “Tell me!”

Damien’s eyes looked around conspiratorially, before he whispered in Roman’s ear, “Get us to lose the chaperone.”

Roman looked at Damien in surprise, and Damien just smirked back. Roman looked around, noticing one of the smaller aisles that had children’s art supplies. He grabbed Damien’s hand and ran down the aisle while Virgil looked behind them, and then sprinted down the back of the store until they reached the paints. Roman looked around, smirking. “Not bad, eh? And we got where we were going!”

Damien grinned. “Oh, Virgil is going to kill us both.”

Roman laughed. “It was your idea! I’m innocent!”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Damien said, nodding.

Roman laughed, looking at the different paints the store had to offer. “What do you think, oil or acrylic?”

“Don’t oil paints require paint thinner to use?” Damien asked.

“In some cases,” Roman agreed. “So maybe not oil today. I should probably make sure that you can paint at all before I bring out the fancy supplies.”

“There’s also watercolors,” Damien pointed out.

Roman shrugged. “True, but those are very tricky to use as well. If you’re not careful, you could wind up with mud as a picture.”

“Acrylic it is, then,” Damien said, walking up next to Roman. “Which brand should we get, and how much paint would we need?”

“A starter’s kit for each of us should be enough for now,” Roman said. “They have a deceptive amount of paint in them. Or, if you want something bigger, we could invest in tubes of cyan, magenta, and yellow. That’s how you can mix more vibrant colors.”

Damien hummed. “I think that if we’re going to be spending some time away from your art supplies, we should get the larger tubes, if only so you have more to work with. Cyan, magenta, and yellow? Should we get black and white as well for shades and tints?”

“Probably a good idea. I’m impressed with your knowledge of terminology,” Roman said.

Damien waved him off. “Trust me, Your Highness, the terminology is about all I’m good at when it comes to art.”

Roman laughed, just as Virgil dashed into the aisle. “You!” he exclaimed, pointing at the two of them. “You two are in huge trouble!”

“Uh-oh, he found us,” Damien stage-whispered, and Roman snickered.

Virgil stalked over, breath heaving in his chest. “Do you two have any idea how terrified I was when I turned back around and you weren’t there?!”

“Virgil, we’re not toddlers, that tactic won’t work on us,” Damien said, arching an unimpressed eyebrow.

Virgil’s nostrils flared. “I thought the two of you were about to be seriously hurt. It’s my job to look out for the two of you and you treat it like it’s a game to get away from me when any number of people out here could be waiting for a chance to kill you.”

Roman felt just a tiny bit guilty. “We weren’t trying to make your job harder Virgil, we just...wanted some privacy.”

Virgil looked between them. Damien’s face revealed nothing, and Roman shrugged as if to say, What else do you want from me?

“Next time you want to make out, at least tell me where you’ll be making your attempt so I can make sure no one’s coming over,” Virgil growled.

“We will, Virgil, rest assured,” Damien said.

Roman sputtered. “We weren’t trying to make out!” he protested.

Virgil shrugged. “Why else would you want privacy?”

“We could be sharing secrets, or just want a moment to talk by ourselves without worrying about anyone else overhearing, for any reason! We don’t immediately go to the gutter when you’re not around!”

“Just immediately, hm?” Virgil asked.

“I...no! No, that is not what I meant and you know it!” Roman protested.

Damien and Virgil were both smirking to various degrees and Roman huffed. “You’re both being incredibly mean,” he growled. “And if that continues, you’ll both end up covered in paint by the end of the day.”

Virgil’s smirk dropped but Damien just shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he simply said.

“But it would be the last,” Virgil warned. “Because I’m not getting in trouble for you being covered in paint, and I would never allow you near art supplies again.”

Damien held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I’m done.”

“You promise?” Roman pressed.

“Yes, yes, I promise. If it means I get the chance to paint with you, then I won’t push this subject any further.”

Roman smiled, and proceeded to pick out some beginner’s acrylic paint, grabbed two brush sets, and then asked, “Mixed media paper, or canvas, do you think?”

“Canvas,” Damien said. “Much easier for me to work with a bigger surface that is very clearly not a table.”

Roman laughed. “Okay, then. Canvas.”

“Maybe easels, too? We could do some on-site painting with those,” Damien pointed out. “And we have quite the scenery at the base of the mountain. It could be fun.”

“Sure,” Roman agreed. “Do you not have any easels remaining after your painting escapades?”

Damien coughed. “Well...my parents may or may not have tried to deter me from future endeavors by not keeping the materials around.”

Roman giggled. “Oh, it was really that bad?”

“Hush, you’re hardly one to talk,” Damien said. “You have plenty of embarrassing stories, too.”

“True, but they’re not relevant to this conversation,” Roman chirped.

Damien glared at Roman. “Traitor,” he muttered.

Roman just offered him a grin in response. Damien glanced away and gravitated towards a sign that said the easels were in that aisle. Roman followed, paint in hand, and Virgil trailed behind them again. Damien picked out two smaller easels, and then turned to Roman. “Canvases?” he asked.

“Right,” Roman said.

They grabbed a pack of canvases and went to the front of the shop and rang everything up. Once they had everything in the car, Virgil looked at them. “Where will you two be painting?” he asked.

“I was thinking halfway up the mountain, where we have quite the view of farmland, it’s beautiful scenery,” Damien offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Roman agreed.

“All right, I’ll drive the two of you up there,” Virgil said. “But if I see any shenanigans with paint I will kill both of you.”

Damien gave Virgil a playful salute. “Whatever you say, Your Highness,” he said, voice soaked in sarcasm.

Virgil took a deep breath. “You’re really dead set on testing my patience aren’t you?”

Damien shrugged. “Well, you seem to be dead set on telling me what I can and cannot do when I’m my own individual, so it only makes sense to balance the scales somewhat.”

“Oh, you are playing a very dangerous game, Your Highness,” Virgil warned. “Get in the car.”

Damien gave Roman a very satisfied smirk as he did as told and Roman followed him into the car. Virgil shut the door a little harder than necessary as he got in as well. He drove them to a point that Damien picked out and then Roman and Damien got their supplies out of the car, setting up the easels and canvases so they were facing the farmland. “This should be fun,” Roman said with a smile as Virgil continued up the mountain. “And it looks like we’ll be on our own for a bit.”

“We’re close enough to the castle that the guards can watch us from there and pick us up if need be,” Damien said simply. “So we’re not necessarily ‘alone’ but we do have some space.”

“Some much needed space,” Roman said, looking out at the farmland below and taking the paints, before gasping. “We forgot the palettes!”

“Oh, damn it,” Damien muttered.

Roman laughed. “That was not a very princely response,” he teased.

Damien rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Your Highness. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Roman said. “I suppose we could mix the paint on the canvas, go for a slightly more abstract way of painting.”

“Well, unless we want to call Virgil back down here, that’s what we’ll have to do,” Damien sighed.

“Yeah, I don’t want to call Virgil down over this,” Roman said, shaking his head. He grabbed the tube of cyan paint and popped the cap, pouring some onto his canvas...or attempting to. Nothing was coming out. “That’s weird,” Roman muttered. He turned the tube so he could see the opening, and gently squeezed. Paint splattered out of the tube, all over Roman’s face, and he sputtered as Damein burst into hysterics. “Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Roman asked, picking up a glob of paint and flinging it at Damien’s face.

Damien stood stock still for a second, before he slowly reached for the magenta paint and poured some onto his fingers, flicking it onto Roman’s arm.

“Oh, this means war,” Roman said, pointing the tube of cyan at Damien and squeezing again, getting paint all over Damien’s shirt.

“How dare you!” Damien exclaimed, laughing. He poured out more magenta and smeared it across Roman’s face, getting some in his hair.

Roman cackled as he grabbed the yellow and used both tubes to smear paint over Damien, while Damien took the magenta and black and returned the favor. They chased each other around the easels, and Roman squealed as he lost his footing running backwards and nearly fell straight to the dirt, only to have Damien wrap an arm around the small of Roman’s back, catching him in a dip. The two were laughing and breathless, and Roman muttered, “Hi,” to Damien.

“Hi,” Damien laughed back. “Truce?”

Roman considered it, looked at the yellow paint he hadn’t dropped, and grinned, saying, “Nah,” and squirting paint directly into Damien’s wavy hair.

“How dare you?!” Damien exclaimed. “And I kept you from falling, too! I had to sacrifice my black paint to do that!”

Roman laughed and got back on his feet, exclaiming, “Catch me if you can!” as he flung one last glob of yellow paint at Damien before running away.

Now, Roman was fast, but Damien was undoubtedly the taller of the two of them, and he managed to catch up to Roman quickly, snagging the back of Roman’s shirt. He pulled Roman into a bear hug, effectively getting paint all over both of them. “Virgil is gonna kill us!” he laughed.

Roman shrieked with laughter and wriggled out of Damien’s grasp, shoving him to the ground and pinning him there as Roman grabbed all the cyan off his face that he could and painting little clouds all over Damien’s face. He was shaking so hard from his laughter he could barely make the shapes.

“Hey!” a sharp voice hollered from the top of the mountain. “What did I just tell you two?!”

Roman and Damien shared a brief horrified glance before Damien was on his feet and grabbed Roman’s wrist, yelling, “Run!”

They both sprinted their way down the mountain, but soon found themselves outnumbered by guards driving their way down the road to barricade them in. Virgil barrelled down the mountain, breath heaving in his chest. “I said no shenanigans with the paint!” he exclaimed.

Damien pointed at Roman. “Roman started it!”

“What?!” Roman asked. “Did not! It wasn’t my fault that the paint tube squirted into my face!”

“But it is your fault that the paint was subsequently thrown onto my face,” Damien said.

“You didn’t have to laugh!”

“You didn’t have to retaliate!”

“Boys!” Virgil snapped. “I don’t care who started what, you both are complicit in the shenanigans and you’re both covered in paint! What am I supposed to tell your parents, huh?!”

“I imagine you’ll tell them you left us alone for five minutes under the impression that we could be mature and turned to look at how we were faring once you reached the top of the mountain only to find us having a paint fight below,” Damien said, completely deadpan and with a straight face that Roman couldn’t possibly hope to achieve.

“You both are walking up the hill and will be getting cleaned up before dinner this evening. I imagine that most of the dignitaries coming to congratulate you two on your engagement will not want to see the two of you covered head to toe in paint.”

“Why do we have to walk up the mountain, though?” Damien asked.

“Because we are not getting the back seats of any of the guards’ cars covered in acrylic paint!” Virgil hissed. “Do you have any idea how easily that stains?”

Roman raised his hand. “Actually, I do, and it’s not as bad as you might think,” he said.

Virgil glowered at him and Roman promptly shut up, following Damien and Virgil back up to the castle. Damien hissed as they approached the top. “Our mothers are waiting for us,” he whispered to Roman.

“Shit, what?!” Roman asked in clear panic. His mother was going to kill him!

Damien took one look at Roman and grabbed his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she doesn’t chew into you too much.”

As they reached the top, the two queens looking at them with twin unamused expressions, Damien scratched the back of his neck. “It’s...uh, my fault,” he said quickly. “One of the paint tubes exploded in my face on accident, I started the paint fight.”

“Damien —!” Roman hissed.

Damien held a hand up at hip level to stop Roman. “It won’t happen again,” Damien assured.

“You’re right, Damien, it won’t,” the Queen said. “Because you are not going to be allowed near any of Veronica’s art supplies for the remainder of the week.” Ouch. And not just because of the use of his deadname, even if it was for his safety.

Roman’s mother looked at him and he inwardly braced himself for what he knew was coming. “Veronica, I’m disappointed in you!” she exclaimed. “I raised you better than for you to engage in a paint fight! That’s not very ladylike behavior for any woman, let alone a princess!”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snarling at his mother, but he just nodded stiffly. “Of course,” he practically growled. But I’m not a princess.

His mother kept staring at him, but Roman was not going to give her the satisfaction of apologizing. Not to her. “Damien, you didn’t get any paint in your eyes, right?”

“Yes, I can still see,” Damien confirmed.

“Good,” Roman said, nodding. “Then we should probably change and get cleaned up. Virgil’s right; I doubt any visitors would appreciate the fine art that is...well, fighting with art.”

Damien barked a laugh, before covering his mouth with a hand. “I suppose you’re right,” he said with mirth in his eyes. “Although I must admit I like you in pants, they seem to do wonders for your confidence. Maybe tonight a pantsuit for dinner would be appropriate?”

Roman felt his heart soar at the excuse right there for him to take. “Sounds perfect,” he agreed, and together the two of them walked into the castle, while their mothers sent them one last look and a warning to behave.

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#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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startbomb7 · 3 years

Text

The Benefits And Threats Of Taking Aids From Sarms.

Sarms Useful Advantages In Bodybuilder Life.

Content

How To Make Use Of Sarms.

Neuropeptides

Sarms: Each Type As Well As What They Do Benefits As Well As Side Effects.

The Advantages Of Vitamin C As Well As Peptides For Skin.

By Leaving An Evaluation You Enter Our Regular Monthly Prize Draw To Win A Beauty Flash Present Coupon.

Chris Gibbons, an affordable powerlifter from Chesterfield, claims there's a threat that people may erroneously see supplements as a quick repair to attain their goals. " If you're unclear, ask your GP to refer you to a registered dietitian for recommendations. Healthy protein supplements are not suggested for children as a result of the absence of study right into long-lasting effects." This implies that bodybuilders that resort to healthy protein supplements, as opposed to just consuming protein-rich foods, can be losing their money. They're marketed as aiding to advertise your body's muscle development, aid metabolic process, help you reach peak physical performance, increase energy and combat the ageing process. Healthy protein powders, offered as trembles, bars and also pills, are just one of one of the most prominent muscle-building supplements. Protein is a vital part of our diet plan as well as key to structure and preserving all kinds of body cells, consisting of muscle. Individuals interested in health and fitness and boosting their physique may opt for supplements that can enhance their muscle growth when combined with exercise, such as weight training.

Do peptides help you lose weight?

Through increased protein synthesis, science has shown this peptide chain to have benefits including increased fat loss, increased cellular repair, cellular regeneration, and increased muscle growth.

BUT Erectile dysfunction as well as cardio damages need to be enough to place lots of people off, but if you're still attracted, Google the loads of opposite impacts. Health isn't simply an issue for badly made medicines either-- even "genuine" PEDs are often lethal naturally. Popular steroids such as GW have been researched as well as found to have solid causal web links to cancer. While we might expect expert athletes to dope in quest of economic gain and also glory, all 3 of these instances were found in a particular niche area of cycle racing-- time trial.

It enables increased testosterone levels while fighting the enhanced estrogen levels that are typically a result of enhanced testosterone. Additional tests above testosterone levels identified located they were not created naturally and must have originated from an outside beginning. Perry can not categorically claim exactly how the material entered his body, urging he did not knowingly consume the Prohibited Material in order to improve his sporting efficiency. He said he had utilized 'creatine, healthy protein and also 100% natural examination boosters' and that he informed the doping control employees what he had taken at the time. Prohibited substances found in the system's of the players vary from leisure drugs like drug, to performance-enhancing substances like steroids. Nonetheless, customers may still experience high estrogen-like adverse effects, because of deca increasing progesterone; which can promote breast tissue in the mammary glands, hgh supplements uk.

Just How To Utilize peptides uk’s free BPC157 Canada .

Povetkin, that was caught using the banned compounds meldonium and ostarine, is one of a number of heavyweight fighters ranked in the existing top 10 in the globe who have all produced favorable examinations in current times. However do not enable on your own to be tricked by its minimal look. When you get going, the curved treadmill transforms into an impressive little set. Make that a person suggestion your life - think of it, desire for it, survive on that idea. Let the mind, muscles, nerves, every component of your body, be full of that idea, as well as just leave every other suggestion alone. One of the two treated with more partitioned the expenditure of fat mass. Multiple anti-aging residential or commercial properties your skin, battle age-related damages, increase bone therapy of cancer cells and also viral (Chinchar.

Given that it has mild androgenic task, it provides the opposite result and also really lowers any bloating existing. Although these adverse effects are short-term, if they are still a problem, as suggested earlier, a 5-on 2-off procedure, where S-4 is made use of for 5 days followed by a 2 day break would be the suggested study dosing method.

A New Target for Malaria Vaccines - StreetInsider.com

A New Target for Malaria Vaccines.

Posted: Thu, 07 Jan 2021 20:07:33 GMT [source]

Research study has shown that these effects allow it to be used in a selection of means, most especially in the therapy of osteoporosis as well as muscle mass wasting. It is likewise a solid praise to other treatments thattreat bone density reduction. MK has incredibly strong benefits when used for injury recovery. MK provides REAL recovery instead of approaches that function as a quick fix, supplying temporary relief as well as just covering up the injury. Ostarine binds to the AR, which demonstrates anabolic activity in the bone and also muscle mass. By binding to the AR, MK increases protein synthesis as well as changes the expression of genes. Nonetheless, researches with MK677 did not show any boost in prolactin degrees.

Neuropeptides

Qualifying planet as being the best rely upon genuine customers testimonials, pictures, as well as independent laboratory examinations results, sarms results youtube. They are also not hazardous to the liver and this high quality makes them a suitable alternative for people that are struggling with existing liver illness or face a boosted threat of liver poisoning. In short, careful androgen receptor modulators benefit both healthy and balanced individuals in addition to chronically sick people who are aiming to boost the high quality of their life. SportsMeds.co.uk is a UK company marketing excellent quality SARMs and also other sporting activities supplements created to the optimum dosage for the bodybuilding and sports community. Cutting - A 50mg application protocol for 6-8 weeks is optimal for reducing purposes for most of users. Nevertheless, as a result of the aesthetic negative effects, some keeping up these doses like to comply with a 5 on 2 off method, where S4 is utilized for 5 days complied with by a 2 day break. A short, miniature article cycle treatment regimen is needed with usage, yet the healing time is just 2-3 weeks after completion.

Since they come from the very same resource, these hormones share some similarities, so are called 'glucagon-like'.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 encourages the launch of insulin from the pancreatic, enhances the volume of cells in the pancreatic that generate insulin and also keeps back glucagon launch.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 is an item of a particle called pre-proglucagon, a polypeptide which is split to produce several hormonal agents, including glucagon.

Cells found in the lining of the little intestinal tract (called L-cells) are the significant resource of glucagon-like peptide 1, although it is additionally secreted in smaller amounts by the pancreas as well as the main nerve system.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 belongs to a family of hormonal agents called the incretins, so-called because they improve the secretion of insulin.

MK-2866 can be somewhat suppressive when surpassing 4 weeks of use. This suppression has shown to be extremely marginal and no cause for worry or concern. A solid test booster can be made use of along with MK to make certain less than minimal amounts of reductions takes place. A 3-4 week mini post cycle treatment method is all that is demand after use. One of the major advantages of Ostarine usage is its recovery benefits. These benefits equate into anabolism of the both the bone and also skeletal cells.

Sarms: Each Type And What They Do Advantages And Also Negative Effects.

The biological half-life of a medicine or radioligand in vitro or in vivo. Artificial insemination, the t 1/2 of the result of a drug is the time considered the feedback to a medication to decline to half the original feedback. In radioligand binding, the t 1/2 can be used to gauge the dissociation price of a radioligand from its receptor, consequently it is the moment considered the amount of radioligand bound to the receptors to decline to half its original level. In vivo, t 1/2 describes the metabolic half-life of a medication or radioligand, i.e. the time taken for the focus of a medicine in plasma to decline to half its initial level. " There are lots of circumstances, where I honestly think they really did not know what was in the supplements they were taking. There are instances where individuals have actually intentionally ripped off and also those individuals ought to be outlawed forever. he fighter asserted it was unknowing from consuming impure meat, from livestock infused with steroids. He was banned for 6 months by the Nevada State Athletic Commission.

ESTRODEX enables professional athletes to maximize the powers of totally free testosterone while decreasing the adverse adverse effects of estrogen. ESTRODEX provides the best of both globes with regards to hormonal support.

The Advantages Of Vitamin C As Well As Peptides For Skin.

These traits make Nutrobal stick out among other chemicals that try to work in the exact same way but bring these unwanted adverse effects. The primary negative effects related to MK677 is the rise in appetite, which might be welcomed by several research study subjects. Researches show this to go away after 4-8 weeks, though this varies from one person to another. The opposite impacts that revealed, though were extremely infrequent and unusual, were moderate reduced extremity edema and muscle mass pain.

Do peptides reduce wrinkles?

The Benefits of Peptides Neuropeptides relax facial muscles to reduce fine lines and wrinkles, similar to Botox®. Copper peptides reduce inflammation, help wounds heal faster, and stimulate hair follicles. They may even help you get rid of stretch marks, age spots, scars, and other skin problems.

Of 44 products bought from internet sellers and also checked, just over fifty percent had the marketed medications, which resemble steroids. peptides uk online Italy bpc157 how does it work of the items had stuff in them that had not been on the label, and 59 percent had basically of the product than shown on the label.

Andarine (S-4) does not bring many side effects, yet there is one adverse effects typically related to use. It sounds even more significant than it actually is, so a deep understanding of it is needed. Many scientists usually report night vision problems when using S-4.

Lgd-4033 can be used as a component of either a cutting or developing cycle. While it can be utilised for both it appears to be extra popular as a building supplement. Clients have actually exposed additions of anywhere in between 6-10lb of pure muscle over a 4-8 week cycle. Let us have a close check out a few of the most-promising and also powerful Careful androgen receptor modulators to gain a clear and full understanding.

" Other major effects of steroid usage consist of rise in high blood pressure, straight kidney as well as heart damages, liver damage, acne as well as sexual promiscuity," he states. They're attractive due to the fact that they're based on the man hormone testosterone and can therefore boost endurance and also performance, and also stimulate muscle mass development. Although readily available with a medical professional's prescription for a selection of clinical reasons, some steroids are mistreated when taken as performance-enhancing medications. For instance, if you're taking any kind of medications as well as supplements, the supplements might quit the medication functioning appropriately. If you're concerned or you have actually experienced negative effects after taking any type of supplements, particularly any kind of that you have actually bought online, make an appointment to see your GP.

youtube

Simply put, a metabolite of S4 binds to the receptor in the eye, creating a yellow tint to appear when switching from dark to lighted locations, which is specifically prevalent at nights. It is difficult to gauge if/when/how it binds and also exactly how bad the result could be. Some barely experience it in any way, while others can locate it more difficult to manage. Andarine (S-4) is categorized as a SARM along with a research chemical. S-4 was created to treat several serious medical conditions, such as, muscle wasting, weakening of bones and also benign prostatic hyptertrophy, utilizing the non-steroidal androgen antagonist bicalutamide as a lead compound. The range for guys is mg, with the greater dosage being utilized by guys over 200lbs that are bulking.

The use of prohormones is commonly associated with adverse effects like enhanced blood pressure, gynecomastia, minimized HDL cholesterol, and acne. Their use pressures body organs to function harder as a large bulk of prohormones have extra molecules that make them damage down in the liver. Prohormones must not be utilized by young athletes as these compounds can have a direct result on the endocrine system. It is essential for you to remember below that prohormone supplements are best matched with liver assistance and therefore you must make use of items like Milk thistle and N-acetyl cysteine.

Thanks to our ingenious Sarms Group we have been able to source and veterinarian our items in the UK, making prices for our Sarms and also muscle obtaining supplements more affordable than anywhere else! Among the essential benefits of this supplement is that it is non-methylated, so quite recently like various other SARM's it won't have any effect on your liver, this indicates there is no demand for liver help during a cycle. This likewise implies it can be made use of over longer durations as well as cycles of 8-12 weeks are regular and also at this term clients are relied upon to see unwavering boosts all through their cycle.

But in a razor-tight battle, as it got on Saturday evening, inevitably some will speculate whether the material could have created benefits in the margins. eeding out authentic human mistake, versus purposefully cheating, is key. Povetkin admitted to taking meldonium before it came onto the prohibited list from the World Anti-Doping Agency in 2016. It was a medication produced by the Russian researcher Ivars Kalvins in 1970 at the USSR University of Organic Synthesis, as well as help the body's ability to modulate the conversion of testosterone. In his support, Wada have likewise reported that it can take months to leave the body.

#BPC157 EU #BPC157 Europe #information BPC157 EU #information BPC157 Europe #EU BPC157 how does it work #Europe BPC157 how does it work

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pagedebtor41 · 3 years

Text

Which Sarm Is The Strongest, Which Sarm Is Least Suppressive

Sarms Functional Benefits In Body Builder Life.

Content

How To Use Sarms.

Neuropeptides

Sarms: Each Type As Well As What They Do Benefits And Also Adverse Effects.

The Benefits Of Vitamin C As Well As Peptides For Skin.

By Leaving A Review You Enter Our Month-to-month Reward Draw To Win An Appeal Flash Gift Voucher.

Chris Gibbons, an affordable powerlifter from Chesterfield, says there's a threat that individuals might mistakenly view supplements as a fast solution to accomplish their goals. " If you're not sure, ask your General Practitioner to refer you to a registered dietitian for guidance. Healthy protein supplements are not recommended for kids as a result of the absence of study right into long-term effects." This implies that body builders who resort to protein supplements, as opposed to simply consuming protein-rich foods, might be squandering their money. They're marketed as assisting to advertise your body's muscle mass development, aid metabolism, assist you reach peak physical performance, boost power as well as battle the ageing procedure. Protein powders, offered as drinks, bars and also pills, are one of the most preferred muscle-building supplements. Healthy protein is an integral part of our diet plan and secret to building and also preserving all kinds of body tissue, including muscle. People interested in health and fitness and improving their physique may opt for supplements that can improve their muscle mass growth when combined with workout, such as weightlifting.

Do peptides help you lose weight?

Through increased protein synthesis, science has shown this peptide chain to have benefits including increased fat loss, increased cellular repair, cellular regeneration, and increased muscle growth.

BUT Erectile dysfunction and also cardiovascular damage ought to be enough to put lots of people off, yet if you're still tempted, Google the loads of opposite impacts. Health isn't just an issue for inadequately made medicines either-- also "legit" PEDs are often lethal by nature. Popular steroids such as GW have been researched as well as found to have strong causal links to cancer cells. While we might anticipate expert athletes to dope in search of financial gain as well as splendor, all three of these situations were discovered in a particular niche field of cycle auto racing-- time trial.

It permits raised testosterone levels while dealing with the enhanced estrogen degrees that are generally an outcome of heightened testosterone. Further examinations on high testosterone degrees identified located they were not produced normally and also should have originated from an external beginning. Perry could not categorically say just how the compound entered his body, urging he did not knowingly ingest the Prohibited Compound in order to boost his showing off performance. He stated he had actually used 'creatine, protein and 100% natural test boosters' and that he told the doping control employees what he had taken at the time. Outlawed compounds located in the system's of the gamers range from leisure drugs like drug, to performance-enhancing substances like steroids. Nevertheless, users might still experience high estrogen-like adverse effects, due to deca elevating progesterone; which can boost bust cells in the mammary glands, hgh supplements uk.

Just How To Make Use Of Sarms.

Povetkin, that was caught making use of the outlawed substances meldonium as well as ostarine, is among a number of heavyweight boxers rated in the present leading 10 in the globe who have actually all created positive examinations in recent times. However do not allow on your own to be misleaded by its minimalist appearance. Once you start, the rounded treadmill transforms right into an impressive little kit. Make that one suggestion your life - think about it, dream of it, survive on that suggestion. Allow the mind, muscle mass, nerves, every part of your body, contain that suggestion, as well as simply leave every other suggestion alone. One of the two treated with additional subdivided the expenditure of fat mass. Several anti-aging residential properties your skin, fight age-related damage, increase bone treatment of cancer and also viral (Chinchar.

Considering that it has small androgenic activity, it offers the opposite effect and also actually minimizes any type of bloating present. Although https://direct-sarms.com/product/cycle-support-supplements/ are momentary, if they are still a problem, as recommended previously, a 5-on 2-off protocol, where S-4 is made use of for 5 days followed by a 2 day break would be the recommended research study application method.

A New Target for Malaria Vaccines - StreetInsider.com

A New Target for Malaria Vaccines.

Posted: Thu, 07 Jan 2021 20:07:33 GMT [source]

Research has revealed that these results allow it to be used in a selection of ways, most notably in the therapy of weakening of bones and also muscular tissue wasting. It is likewise a solid compliment to other therapies thattreat bone density decrease. MK has exceptionally solid advantages when used for injury rehabilitation. MK gives REAL healing rather than methods that work as a band aid, supplying temporary relief and just masking the injury. Ostarine binds to the AR, which shows anabolic task in the bone and muscle mass. By binding to the AR, MK boosts protein synthesis and also modifies the expression of genes. Nevertheless, research studies with MK677 did not show any type of increase in prolactin levels.

Neuropeptides

Qualifying planet as being the most effective rely upon genuine users reviews, pictures, as well as independent laboratory tests results, sarms results youtube. They are additionally not toxic to the liver and also this high quality makes them a suitable option for individuals that are experiencing existing liver illness or face an enhanced risk of liver poisoning. In short, discerning androgen receptor modulators benefit both healthy and balanced people as well as chronically unwell individuals that are wanting to boost the quality of their life. SportsMeds.co.uk is a UK business marketing premium quality SARMs and other sporting activities supplements developed to the optimal dosage for the muscle building as well as sports area. Reducing - A 50mg application method for 6-8 weeks is optimal for cutting purposes for most of customers. However, as a result of the visual adverse effects, some running with these dosages like to comply with a 5 on 2 off procedure, where S4 is used for 5 days complied with by a 2 day break. A short, miniature post cycle therapy routine is needed with use, yet the healing time is only 2-3 weeks after conclusion.

Since they originate from the very same source, these hormonal agents share some resemblances, so are called 'glucagon-like'.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 encourages the launch of insulin from the pancreatic, increases the volume of cells in the pancreas that generate insulin and keeps back glucagon launch.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 is an item of a particle called pre-proglucagon, a polypeptide which is divided to produce many hormones, including glucagon.

Cells located in the cellular lining of the little intestinal tract (called L-cells) are the significant resource of glucagon-like peptide 1, although it is also secreted in smaller amounts by the pancreatic as well as the main nerve system.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 additionally boosts the feeling of fullness throughout as well as between dishes by acting upon hunger centres in the brain and by reducing the draining of the tummy.

A beta sheet types as an outcome of hydrogen bonding communications between peptide backbones of parallel or antiparallel beta hairs, which as the name recommends are mostly direct.

Glucagon-like peptide 1 comes from a family members of hormones called the incretins, so-called because they improve the secretion of insulin.

MK-2866 can be somewhat suppressive when surpassing 4 weeks of use. This reductions has actually revealed to be incredibly very little as well as no cause for worry or concern. A solid test booster can be used along with MK to ensure less than minimal amounts of suppression occurs. A 3-4 week mini post cycle treatment protocol is all that is need after usage. Among the major benefits of Ostarine usage is its recovery benefits. These advantages translate right into anabolism of the both the bone and also skeletal cells.

Sarms: Each Kind And Also What They Do Advantages As Well As Negative Effects.

The organic half-life of a medication or radioligand artificial insemination or in vivo. Artificial insemination, the t 1/2 of the effect of a drug is the moment taken for the feedback to a drug to decrease to half the original action. In radioligand binding, the t 1/2 can be utilized to measure the dissociation rate of a radioligand from its receptor, for that reason it is the time considered the amount of radioligand bound to the receptors to decline to half its initial level. In vivo, t 1/2 describes the metabolic half-life of a medicine or radioligand, i.e. the moment considered the focus of a medication in plasma to decrease to half its original degree. " There are great deals of instances, where I truthfully think they really did not recognize what was in the supplements they were taking. There are circumstances where people have intentionally cheated and also those individuals ought to be prohibited for life. he fighter claimed it was unknowing from eating tainted meat, from cattle infused with steroids. He was outlawed for 6 months by the Nevada State Athletic Payment.

ESTRODEX allows athletes to make best use of the powers of complimentary testosterone while reducing the unfavorable side effects of estrogen. ESTRODEX uses the most effective of both globes when it come to hormone assistance.

The Benefits Of Vitamin C And Also Peptides For Skin.

These attributes make Nutrobal attract attention among various other chemicals that try to operate in the exact same manner but carry these undesirable negative effects. in a capable Buy SARMs associated with MK677 is the boost in hunger, which might rate by numerous research study topics. Researches reveal this to decrease after 4-8 weeks, though this differs from person to person. The other side effects that revealed, though were really infrequent and also uncommon, were light reduced extremity edema and also muscle pain.

Do peptides reduce wrinkles?

Of 44 items purchased from net sellers and evaluated, simply over fifty percent had the advertised drugs, which are similar to steroids. A quarter of the items had stuff in them that wasn't on the label, and 59 percent had more or less of the product than indicated on the tag.

Andarine (S-4) does not bring several adverse effects, however there is one adverse effects commonly associated with usage. It sounds far more severe than it in fact is, so a deep understanding of it is called for. Many scientists often report night vision problems when making use of S-4.

Lgd-4033 can be used as an element of either a reducing or constructing cycle. While it can be used for both it seems much more prominent as a structure supplement. Customers have actually disclosed enhancements of anywhere between 6-10lb of pure muscle over a 4-8 week cycle. Allow us have a close look at several of the most-promising and potent Discerning androgen receptor modulators to get a clear as well as total understanding.

" Other major impacts of steroid usage consist of boost in blood pressure, direct kidney and also heart damages, liver damage, acne as well as sexual promiscuity," he says. They're attractive because they're based on the male hormone testosterone and also can as a result enhance endurance as well as efficiency, and stimulate muscle development. Although available with a physician's prescription for a selection of medical reasons, some steroids are mistreated when taken as performance-enhancing drugs. For instance, if you're taking any kind of medicines in addition to supplements, the supplements can quit the medicine working effectively. If you're concerned or you have experienced adverse effects after taking any supplements, specifically any that you have actually bought online, make a visit to see your GP.

youtube

In short, a metabolite of S4 binds to the receptor in the eye, creating a yellow tint to show up when switching from dark to lighted locations, which is specifically prevalent in the evenings. It is impossible to evaluate if/when/how it binds and also just how poor the result can be. Some hardly experience it at all, while others can find it harder to handle. Andarine (S-4) is classified as a SARM along with a study chemical. S-4 was designed to deal with a number of serious clinical problems, such as, muscular tissue wasting, osteoporosis as well as benign prostatic hyptertrophy, making use of the non-steroidal androgen antagonist bicalutamide as a lead substance. The variety for males is mg, with the greater dosage being utilized by guys over 200lbs that are bulking.

The use of prohormones is often connected with side effects like boosted high blood pressure, gynecomastia, decreased HDL cholesterol, as well as acne. Their use forces body organs to function harder as a large majority of prohormones have added particles that make them damage down in the liver. Prohormones must not be utilized by young professional athletes as these substances can have a direct result on the endocrine system. It is necessary for you to remember right here that prohormone supplements are best enhanced with liver support and also as a result you should utilize items like Milk thistle and N-acetyl cysteine.

Many thanks to our innovative Sarms Group we have actually had the ability to resource and also veterinarian our products in the UK, making costs for our Sarms and muscle acquiring supplements more affordable than anywhere else! Among the fundamental benefits of this supplement is that it is non-methylated, so fairly lately like various other SARM's it won't have any type of impact on your liver, this implies there is no requirement for liver help during a cycle. This similarly suggests it can be used over much longer timeframes and also cycles of 8-12 weeks are typical as well as also at this term clients are trusted to see unwavering rises throughout their cycle.

However in a razor-tight battle, as it was on Saturday evening, unavoidably some will guess whether the compound can have developed benefits in the margins. eeding out real human mistake, versus purposefully cheating, is essential. Povetkin admitted to taking meldonium before it came onto the banned listing from the World Anti-Doping Company in 2016. It was a drug manufactured by the Russian researcher Ivars Kalvins in 1970 at the USSR University of Organic Synthesis, and also help the body's capability to regulate the conversion of testosterone. In his protection, Wada have also reported that it can take months to leave the body.

#sarms stackss #sarms cutting stacks #bulking stacks #muscle building stacks #shredding stacks #support #cycle support supplements #post cycle therapy support #test base support #Buy sarms stackss #Buy sarms cutting stacks #Buy bulking stacks #Buy muscle building stacks #Buy shredding stacks #Buy support #Buy cycle support supplements #Buy post cycle therapy support #Buy test base support

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lwjstiletto · 4 years

Text

wangxian au where lwj is a popular hand model and wwx is an independent jewellery maker [Part 2]

[Part 1]

their monthly sibling catch-up jenga ruins wwx’s plans to mope for the foreseeable future.

jc is concentrating very hard on wiggling a piece out and wwx would usually make fun of him but he can only conjure enough energy to pull out the easy looking pieces today so he has no high ground.

“name 3 good things that happened to you.” jc frowns as he reads the wooden cuboid, “like ever? or in the last month?”

jyl doesn’t quite give him a look, but a slight downturn of her lip still gets the point across.

jc sighs, “an old student of mine opened a gallery, xichen and i went for brunch and wei wuxian hasn’t bothered me in a while. what’s up with that by the way?”

“my turn.” wwx says unenthusiastically and pulls a loose jenga piece. ‘how is your love life?’ it reads. can jenga be rigged? it has to be rigged.

“you know we’re allowed to ask questions outside the jenga right?” jc snaps.

wwx knows. wwx also knows that the jenga questions were only introduced by jyl to stimulate conversation between an angry jc and a stubborn wwx when he’d come back two years ago from his apprenticeship abroad.

but wwx also doesn’t want to talk about his humiliating interaction with the man who his brother had called ‘wangji’. he even has a nice name. why is wwx’s life so hard?

“a-xian,” jyl starts, “are you alright?”

wwx looks at her with a pout, “how can i be when we’ve not seen each other for weeks? i missed you.”

jyl smiles indulgently, “i missed you too. next time you should come with me, lotus pier seems empty without you two.”

jc looks like he wants to prod wwx more but then he looks over at wwx’s jenga piece and starts to laugh. wwx hates it here.

—•—

lwj wears gloves when he’s not working to shield his hands from things like tanning, small scratches, drying out etc. any normal person would overlook these as minuscule imperfections but it could put him out of his job for weeks

he has custom made moisturising cotton gloves that he wears during the night; and thicker cotton or leather gloves for the day, depending on the weather

at first, he had found this incredibly bothersome. a month or so into it he stopped noticing them and suffered through various incidents where he tried to eat with gloves on or, on a particularly horrifying occasion, wash his hands with them.

but now, he has begun to indulge. he buys gloves in materials which are impractical, which he can only wear when he has nowhere to go and nothing to do.

there are the pastel lace gloves that draw patterns from his fingers up to his elbows, the white satin ones with frills, and finally the fingerless black gloves made of supple, soft leather.

(for ref)

they make him feel a certain type of way that he is too embarrassed to put in words, so he doesn’t.

he puts them away in a drawer on the furthest corner in his wardrobe that he only opens when he needs a confidence boost or after a particularly tiring shoot

today happens to be the latter, except it has been multiple tiring shoots and while his muscles aren’t aching anymore, he still feels like he deserves something nice.

he retrieves a new pair of leather gloves that have an adjustable belt at the wrist. he tightens the strap to the point that he can’t move his hand too much without it hurting. he hums, a pleased sound escaping his lips, and finally lets himself go

—•—

wwx has spent the last hour answering nhs’ questions about his business, future plans and why he wants to work with lan wangji (who is apparently a hand model? and a super successful one at that???)

wwx answers to the best of his abilities as his head spins from the turn of events and the recent information that has come to light. it’s- a lot.

finally nhs nods and picks up his phone to call someone.

“not presentable... what does that- it doesn’t matter, i’m not calling you here for a shoot. just come here and i will explain.” with that nhs hangs up the phone as if someone would have jumped through it otherwise

wwx, who has finally managed to absorb everything, asks, “was that lan wangji?”

nhs just smiles cryptically. wwx’s question is answered soon enough though, as lwj walks into the office twenty minutes later. he blinks at wwx but does not show any other outword reaction as he takes a seat

nhs begins to speak, “i have spoken to wei-xiong and come to the conclusion that he is not stalking you.”

lwj looks at wwx and then back at nhs, not quite an eyebrow-raise but as close to it as it gets.

“wei-xiong wants you to model for him. i will let you two speak for a while. there is no pressure, just a light discussion.” nhs says and then skips out before any of them can stop him

the air in the room gets significantly more tense. lwj’s expression is blank and when wwx can’t look at it anymore, he decides to look at his crossed arms instead

“holy shit dude, are you ok?” wwx shouts, alarmed at the bruised red marks lining lwj’s wrist where it pokes out of his long sleeved sweater

lwj looks down at it, seemingly horrified, and pulls his sleeves down before wwx can get a better look.

“are you... hurt?” wwx asks gently.

lwj shakes his head. “i’m fine.”

he sounds like he’s telling the truth. this immediately short circuits wwx’s brain because.. why else are there bruises on his wrists... what else could possibly... oh my god he likes to be tied up, wwx’s brain supplies

thankfully he manages to keep the thought to himself this time. lwj still looks at him like he heard it all the same.

“you are not stalking me.” lwj states.

“not really? i mean not for the reasons you think.” wwx cringes at himself. but lwj hasn’t walked away yet which means he must be willing to hear him out this time.

“to be honest i’ve been in a bit of a slump these past few months. i saw you at the university and wanted to work with you, i had no idea you were a hand model. i didn’t even know that was a thing.” wwx says.

lwj scrutinises him for a few seconds then nods. “thank you for explaining.”

lwj clearly sees this as the end of the conversation but wwx doesn’t want him to leave again so he starts to talk about the hand chains he has been working on the past few weeks, pulling out his phone to show lwj pictures of a few.

wwx is with his jewellery how new parents are with their babies. he has been gushing about the complicated silver work that he plans to refine over the next few days when he looks up to see lwj’s face inches from his.

lwj is looking at his phone, seemingly absorbing his words, because when wwx pauses lwj looks at him as if to ask him to continue. wwx gulps. being on the receiving end of such undivided attention, no less from such a beautiful man, is almost intimidating.

then lwj blinks again and the spell is broken.

wwx straightens up, “ah sorry for rambling.”

“if we were to work together,” lwj starts, “what would it entail?”

the implication that lwj is seriously considering working with him, a small business beneath his usual collaborations, is both flattering and slightly unreal.

“i would need you to come in to take measurements, maybe a couple of photographs so i can have refrence to your skin tone and bone structure when designing.” wwx says, voice professional.

“my... are you making these specifically for me?” lwj tilts his head, a gesture so adorably confused that wwx wants to coo.

wwx rubs his nose, “more like i’m using you as a reference? having a clear picture in my head helps kickstart my creations. once i have cohesion within my designs it’s easy to expand my range from there if that makes sense.”

lwj nods, looking contemplative. “won’t you need me to try them?”

wwx nods, seeing them on someone is usually important. after all, jewellery is made to be worn. “you’ll need to come to my workshop for that though, so i can make minor adjustments on the spot. my thoughts tend to run away from me sometimes and i forget half my observations as i work. it won’t be often though, i’ll only call you in when necessary. and if you’re too busy then we can always reschedule.” wwx says.

“you are too accommodating.” lwj says, “in this industry, you shouldn’t be.”

wwx feels a little stricken by the statement. he laughs nervously, “it’s not like i can have you sit there for hours while i work.”

“if it makes it easier for you, then you should. i’m used to holding still.” lwj says, serious.

“is that an offer?” wwx raises an eyebrow. because this whole discussion certainly sounds like they’re making a deal.

lwj turns his head to the side and the loose strands of his hair swish with the movement. it’s such a graceful motion that wwx thinks he has surely practiced this before.

when he turns back, wwx notices he’s holding a business card out towards wwx. “you can contact my agent about my scheduling. my number is only for emergency appointments in case you need them.”

wwx is speechless. he cannot believe he actually pulled this off what the fu—

he’s still feeling thunderstruck when he gets home. with numb fingers, he has managed to program lwj’s number into his phone because he knows he’ll lose the card sometime soon. his contact name is just ‘💅🏻’

it’s both because wwx thinks lan wangji is too formal, and because he has an undeniable urge to see his nails painted.

it’s just so he can know what colours and gemstones would suit him of course. the thought that probably everything would suit lwj is firmly shut down and pushed at the back of wwx’s head.

—•—

lwj gets a call at 6am the next morning. he doesn’t know why but he immediately thinks of wwx. it turns out to be nmj

“wangji, have you been well?” nmj asks.

“yes.” lwj says, unsure of why nmj is calling him so early in the morning. isn’t he supposed to be at the gym at this hour?

“that is good to hear. are you busy?”

“no. i have five hours until my shoot.” lwj says, still confused. a feeling of dread settles in his stomach.

“let’s go for coffee then. i want to treat you.” nmj says.

lwj is silent for a few seconds then, “why?”

“i need to discuss an urgent matter with you.” nmj says.

if lwj wasn’t alarmed before, he definitely is now. he agrees to meet nmj in a cafe he visits regularly.

when he gets there, nmj is waiting for him at the door, attracting every passerby’s attention with his muscles bulging out of his grey t-shirt.

when lwj comes to a stop before him, nmj gives him a small smile and opens the door for him, gesturing him to go in.

people look as they walk over to a table in the back and keep looking as they take a seat. lwj makes nmj sit with his back to the cafe so he hides lwj completely from their eyes.

“wangji,” nmj starts seriously, then pauses, pushing a glass of water towards him.

lwj doesn’t touch it.

nmj sighs, “i was at huaisang’s office the other day and bumped into a man. he came there looking for you so i asked who he was. luckily huaisang had told me about him before, su she?”

lwj takes the glass of water and chugs it. nmj looks at him with concern.

“i turned him away but i’m worried about you wangji.” nmj says, pushing his own glass of water towards lwj.

lwj doesn’t frown but it’s a close call. “i do not know what he wants.”

nmj’s face hardens. “clearly nothing good. huaisang stopped me from punching him but if you ever need me to, feel free to call me.”

lwj shakes his head, “it’ll be okay. possibly.”

this makes nmj frown even more. “i’m serious, call me if he dares follow you. we cannot press charges until he portrays to be an actual threat but i will protect you.”

“i do not need protection.” lwj’s grip tightens on his glass.

“i know that.” nmj says, “but i will offer my protection either way. it’s good to know someone has your back.”

lwj wants to fight him on this, they barely know each other outside work and lwj does /not/ need someone to do his dirty work. he doesn’t though, because he is tired of carrying the fear of being recognised/followed all by himself. it’s not like he can burden nhs or lxc.

and nmj is neither judging, nor underestimating him. he is just offering to have his back should he ever need it, and it’s not... a bad thing. it’s almost like having a friend in the industry, and maybe he needs some of those.

so he nods. even nmj seems surprised by this but gives him a smile and orders him a coffee, true to his word.

nhs emails lwj a document containing his schedule for the next month and wwx is nestled comfortably in the only free hours he gets on fridays. he’s not as upset about it as he thought he would be

at 4pm friday, lwj drives to wwx’s ‘workshop’ which is simply an extension of his untidy living space. lwj doesn’t know how someone so meticulous with their handiwork could be so in a borderline hazardous workspace.

wwx conjures up a beanbag and gestures for lwj to sit down. lwj looks at the purple monstrosity and then at wwx, dubious.

“aiyah i’m just trying to make your comfortable!” wwx says, “graphing out your measurements will take a while.”

lwj doesn’t remember the last time someone cared for his comfort when he was at work. he has to stand for hours when only his upper body is in frame, and bend his fingers in unnatural ways as per the director’s requirements. discomfort is his status quo

he has never complained. it’s part of his job to hold still and not draw anyone’s focus to the less important parts of him, i.e. his face, by voicing his discomfort. it hardly bothers him anymore.

“are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me sit upright?” lwj asks, because while wwx seems like a considerate person lwj does not want to compromise the quality of his work.

“it’s gonna take an hour,” wwx says scandalised, “i’m not cruel. besides, i already received the photographs i needed for reference so you can just chill out till i do my work.”

lwj doesn’t mention how an hour is nothing compared to the time he had stood with his hands outstretched for seven hours. with an internal sigh, he gingerly sinks down on the beanbag. he hates to admit it, but it is actually comfortable.

wwx smirks at him like he knows, then gathers his measuring tools and approaches lwj. lwj removes his cotton gloves and places them on his knees.

once wwx is close enough, he takes lwj’s proffered wrist and winds a measuring tape around it. lwj doesn’t want to stare straight at wwx’s.. ehm yeah so he looks up.

this is just as bad of an idea, because where lwj has noticed wwx is attractive, seeing him from this angle is just... too much. he can’t close his eyes either, because that will make it look like he’s— enjoying this or something.

he decides to look to the side instead, spotting a framed picture of wwx and a toddler.

“is he your son?” he asks, because he feels the need to fill the silence for the first time in his life.

wwx looks at the picture, then laughs, “no, that’s my nephew, jin ling. he’s three and already spoiled rotten by my family.”

“do you have a big family?” lwj asks. asking personal questions is both unlike him and probably very unprofessional.

wwx, however, smiles indulgently. “it’s just my shijie, her husband jin zixuan, jin ling and my brother jiang cheng. well those are the nearest and dearest ones.”

“jiang cheng?” lwj asks.

wwx frowns, “yeah. do you know him?”

“he and my brother are close friends.” lwj says.

“wait, xichen is your brother?” wwx asks, then cringes at his informality, “i guess that’s lan xichen huh? i never knew his family name.”

“and what about wen qing? how do you know her?” wwx asks as he starts to try different sizes of measurement rings to see what fits lwj’s fingers.

it takes lwj a few seconds to answer. “wen qing drew studies of human anatomy for her final project.”

“let me guess,” wwx grins, placing a ring on his middle finger, “were you the hand section of her anatomy?”

lwj feels his ears burn for some reason. “yes. it’s how i got discovered.”

“discovered? like you got scouted for hand modelling based on a painting?” wwx pauses in his movements.

“nie huaisang was present at the final display at the university’s gallery, he’s fond of art.” lwj says.

wwx looks impressed, “just like that?”

“it is common for hand models.” lwj says.

“okay, so in your professional opinion, could i sell-“ wwx pauses, “could i be a hand model?”

he wiggles his fingers in front of lwj’s face.

“no.” lwj says.

“oh wow, blunt but effective.” wwx pouts

“you have callouses.” lwj explains, taking a closer look at wwx’s hands, “and dents from using your tools. things like cuticles, tanning and nails are fixable, but the others will remain permanent if you plan on still making jewellery and doing other strenuous work.”

when he looks up, wwx’s face is unreadable. thinking that he has offended the man, he draws back. “i apologise.”

that seems to snap wwx out of it, “don’t! you don’t need to apologise. it’s just– i don’t think anyone has ever answered a silly question of mine so sincerely. i’m still absorbing it.”

“i’m just being honest,” lwj says, “you have a good bone structure. you could have considered this line of work were it not for your existing business.”

wwx drops lwj’s hand and places both of his own on his cheeks, “i’m pretty sure that you’re messing with me but i can’t prove it so i’m gonna let it go.”

lwj suppresses a smile. maybe he doesn’t need the free hours on fridays.

[Part 3]

#wangxian fic #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lwj x wwx #lan zhan #wei ying #the untamed #cql #mdzs #my fics #hand model au #long fic

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