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reliciron · 4 years

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Decided to write out the important bit of my jedi consular’s backstory.

It should be noted that he doesn’t technically want to die, he’s just very scared of his master and doesn’t see any way to escape.

That said, at the end of the day he does try (and fail) to die by throwing himself at some jedi, so please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with that.

Go to the northern reaches of Brentaal IV. There you will find a small Jedi temple: the place where Grand Master Satele Shan first trained.

It has enjoyed relative anonymity since, but this must change.

Infiltrate the temple. Slaughter everyone within. Show the Jedi that nothing is safe from the Sith.

Do this, my clever acolyte, and I will raise you from the shadows.

You will be my apprentice.

Dust kicks up as he races across the northern plateaus on his stolen speeder bike. It will take hours to track properly, with the damage he left behind. But by then he’ll have either completed his mission…

Or he’d be dead.

He clenches his teeth.

She was mad. She HAD to be.

No.

He shakes his head.

No. His master is many things, but not mad.

Just calculating. And he may be a mere acolyte, but he hadn’t survived this long without learning some of the game.

If her words were true, the Sith would send a platoon, or at least a full squad. Make a show of the massacre to demoralize the Republic and Jedi Order both.

One lone acolyte would not be enough to guarantee victory. Indeed, it was very likely that he would not survive the attempt at all, even with 6 years of careful training from his master.

He’d been her faithful servant. Her knife in the dark. She’d liberated him from Rattatak and kindly taken him under her wing as a boy. He’d learned to wear the Force like a shroud. Hide himself from sight and strike from the shadows.

She gave the word, and he carried out the sentence. A name, a picture, a place, and they’d be dead in a matter of days.

He couldn’t be her apprentice. No matter his talent, he was Rattataki. And as far as the anyone else knew, he didn’t exist.

He KNEW this. She’d said it so many times. But now she was offering it to him.

It wasn’t real.

And the impossibility of the task only affirmed his suspicions.

He was not MEANT to succeed.

He did not exist, yet as more Sith and Imperials fell before him it became harder and harder to keep his existence secret. And she would never let him go, not when he knew so much of her secrets.

He was a liability now. One she hoped would take care of itself in a pointless attack on a temple.

He should run. He SHOULD, but he CAN’T.

His throat goes tight and he slows down a bit as the temple’s coordinates loom on the navigation computer.

He’d tried to run once, before he’d truly understood how much of a PRIVILEGE it was to have been chosen by his mistress. He couldn’t recall the ‘how’s and ‘why’s anymore, but he remembered the punishment had gone on for well over a week.

Run and I’ll find you, little one. And I will not be so merciful the next time.

If he tries to abandon his duty, he’d die all the same, but she’d make sure to make it hurt. At least the Jedi would make it quick.

Yes.

If its one thing the soft-hearted fools abhorred, it was making a being suffer.

There was no way out for him, but an end by their sabers would be better than by her hand.

–

It had been laughably easy to enter the temple. The roomy interior had given him plenty of space to cloak himself and slip through without being noticed by the guardians. He’d made it all the way into the empty training room, where he’d entered a vent near the ceiling and used it to gain access to the meeting room.

Inside there were a handful of masters and their attending padawans, likely a collection of the strongest jedi in the temple. An incredibly foolish target.

But that was the point, wasn’t it.

He could have killed a great many by now. Picked off padawans one by one has he slithered through the building. Had he actually believed the lie his master had told him, he would have.

But he didn’t. And now these Jedi were his best chance for a swift end.

As he grips his lightsaber, he wonders, not for the first time, what his mother would have thought of him. He didn’t remember her, or much of Rattatak for that matter. But he hoped he’d grown to be a strong son, one who might have made her proud, had things been different.

He muffles the sound of the grate being opened, curls his toes over the edge of the vent frame, and leaps.

–

The creature had seemed to come from thin air.

A calm discussion with his fellow masters about possible changes to the curriculum one minute, and a whirl of dark robes and red light the next.

By the time he and the others managed to pull their lightsabers, 3 padawans lay crumpled on the floor with the attacker ready to strike again.

The battle had been vicious.

Master Evren nearly had a leg taken off, and Knight Balrus fell in a burst of lightning before Ixal finally got in under its guard to slice up through it’s hood.

It screamed, bringing its saber up in mindless defense as it clutched its smoking face, but it was a futile effort. He followed through, ducking its arm and spinning around behind to carve his saber deep across it’s back.

It folded like a house of cards, crashing to the floor in a heap of dark robes.

Not dead, but also not getting up any time soon.

Healers and medical droids are called, and to everyone’s relief no one was killed. But it still left them with a host of very injured jedi, and a deeply wounded assailant who should have never made it this far.

–

Once the others have been seen to, he and the few other jedi of rank gather in the assassin’s room.

The scans the droids provided them with were both enlightening… and disturbing.

A juvenile rattataki male, approximately16 years of age. Signs of extensive, long-term electrical trauma, 18 healed fractures, and general malnutrition. And that was all underneath the damage he himself had caused in the battle. Evidently he’d blinded the man - no, boy - in one eye, and his final strike had severed his spine. He was now paralyzed from the waist down.

Stars above.

It’s about an hour more before the boy comes to, numbed heavily around his injuries but not sedated.

They needed to speak with him, and it absolutely could not wait.

Even so, none of them are prepared for the tsunami of terror that all but knocks them off their feet.

He chokes and tugs desperately at his restraints, every inch a panicked child despite the destruction he’d wrought only a few hours ago.

It makes his stomach roil to know he’d not fought a man, but a boy.

“Peace, young one,” he says softly. And the single remaining eye fixes upon him.

A muscle jumps in the rattataki’s jaw before his face goes eerily blank, at odds with the fear still saturating the Force around them.

“My name is Master Ixal. I’m afraid you’ve committed some rather serious crimes here today, but I would like to talk, if you wouldn’t mind.” When all the boy does is stare at him, he smiles, “May I ask your name?”

There’s a long stretch of silence before the answer.

“Acolyte.”

His accent is Kaas-ian, but given that he’s an alien, there’s a very good chance that he was a slave.

“Is that your name, or the one you were given?”

He blinks, as if trying to parse the meaning.

“Did you ever have a different name?”

Something small and fragile flickers across the part of his face that is still visible.

“…. Faun.”

He sighs. Good. Not so far gone that he won’t answer questions entirely, “Faun then. Can you tell me why you’re here?”

“My master sent me.”

A sith then. Were they truly so desperate as to use children?

“They sent you to attack us?”

His eye closes and he seems resigned.

“Yes.”

“Who sent you? Are there more coming? Why is the temple being targ-?”

“It doesn’t matter, kill me and be done with it.”

“What-?”

“I killed your people and infiltrated your temple, is that not enough?!”

He seems desperate then, like a frightened animal, and the fear redoubles in the Force.

“Easy now,” he assures, “You killed no one, all those who were injured survived.” He frowns, “And you will not die for it. We certainly won’t be letting you go, but you will live and be treated fairly. But I can promise you, the more you help us now, the easier things will go for you in the future.”

Instead of being assured, the young man barks a harsh, bitter laugh.

“What, future?! I failed to die! Now my master will come for me to correct my failure!” He positively whimpers and shrinks in on himself, “She’ll be so angry! She’ll make it hurt! Why can’t you just kill me!”

They’re all taken aback by the outburst, but as his words start to sink in a sick feeling begins to settle in to Ixal’s stomach.

“What do you mean you ‘failed to die’?”

“You think I am a fool?!” he spits. “What else am I to believe when she gives me such an impossible task and promises rewards I knew could never be!” He sags onto the hospital bed. “I do not exist. She cannot allow me to be tied to her, and I was no longer worth the risk.”

He truly feared this master of his so much that he would willingly undertake a suicide mission? Stars above, what had this woman done to him?!

He shakes his head. They knew the why now, but not the how.

“How did you manage to make it all the way into the meeting room? You would have had to pass several guardians.”

The boy huffs, voice still raw and wavering, but evening out as they entered more neutral territory. “Your security is poor and my master trained me well. I cloaked myself in the Force, muffled my presence, and walked right passed them.”

A hint of pride threads through the fear in the air, but already a few of their number have left, unable to take such overpowering emotions.

Cloaking is a rare gift. That this young man is capable of doing so, well enough to fool full fledged jedi, is both dangerous and intriguing. Between that, his combat ability, and the hyper-projection of his emotions, they were dealing with a powerful force user, no matter his age.

It only occurs to him now that the young rattataki could have likely killed dozens of padawans and younglings before being discovered.

But he didn’t.

An idea starts to form but he’d need to consult his fellow masters first.

“Thank you, Faun, you’ve been very helpful. Please rest for now. We will speak again later.”

The boy looks wary as they leave, but more than likely the sedatives are already being administered through his drip. He won’t be conscious for much longer.

–

The discussion is heated, with several knights and masters arguing against it, but after consulting the Jedi Council, they finally come to an agreement.

They would attempt to rehabilitate Faun.

Turning a sith was notoriously difficult, but his youth would work in their favor.

The skills of an assassin, Force-cloaking especially, where nearly impossible to teach to jedi. Too close to the dark side for many to want to risk learning. But as much as they may wish otherwise, sometimes those skills were needed, and if they could earn Faun’s loyalty they’d have an invaluable ally.

It would be a long and delicate process. Mind healers would be needed to try and break the chains his master had instilled in his mind, and the physical reconstruction and recovery would be just as taxing.

There was no guarantee that it would work at all, but he genuinely believed it was worth a try.

The poor boy had been through so much. With a bit of work they might give him a second chance at a fulfilling life.

Dark-side or no, the Force practically hummed around him in a way Ixal had not seen since young Satele. He didn’t know what part this young man might play, but he had a feeling he may yet prove essential in the future.

This would not be the end the young man had sought, but a new beginning.

======

From there it takes a long time to deprogram him, and they need to install several internal cybernetic bypasses in his spine to get around the damage. At the end of it, he’s got a pretty serious scar that runs from right shoulder to left hip, a few numb patches on his lower back, and his eye is still blinded. He learns to hide his accent, too. And he’s somewhere in his late 20s-early 30s by the time the game starts.

He was sent to Tython as a fresh start for his padawan training, since no one there would know who he was, aside from the Council.

His companions don’t find out until they’re fighting the First Son and Syo tells them to try and get them to leave or turn on Faun. Zenith almost does leave afterwards, but after a long discussion they all stick with him.

#swtor #jedi consular #character backstory #sith acolyte #he was kidnapped from rattatak and enslaved i just was trying to put it through the lens of what a brainwashed person would see it as #satele shan DOES come from brentaal 4 but everything else is completely made up #so if there is actual information from her backstory that contradicts this then *shugs* whoopsies #tw: suicidal thoughts #sort of

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cristophynn · 4 years

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the coffee shop — chapter one

summary: it all started out when satan decided to take on a part-time job in a café near his place. by how things played out, he thought that maybe the two of you weren't meant to be and that you were just a dumb high school crush everyone has. fate had other plans, though, and he was sure as hell that it wasn't a dumb crush anymore.

pairing: satan/reader

warnings/tags: underage drinking, implied/referenced child abuse, family drama, mutual pining, ANGST

author's note: again, this has a lot of angst,,, on the bright side, this series has a happy ending! this is an au where everyone is human and reader has they/them pronouns. <3

ao3 work: the coffee shop.

It was already turning seven in the morning when the blonde was walking to school like usual. He shivered a bit when a gush of cold wind hit his face, and he audibly cursed at the air and temperature. Being in the coldest city in Japan, he should be used to this — but he still wasn't. He preferred to beginning of the school year and he was already tired of it, especially when he had to walk around school and neighborhood only to become known as Mammon's delinquent brother.

He was known for being arrested a month ago due to underage drinking just before the previous school year ended, including his whole group of friends. People were scared of him — maybe because of his evident scowl that never left his face. The rumor about him didn't help either, and even if Mammon cleared them up and denied it, people didn't want to believe it. Eventually, he just ended up telling his older brother to not mind those rumors. Besides, the one who spread those came up with the most bizarre rumors, and people ended up believing them just because they didn't like him. All of it was absurd, such as he was the leader of a gang, or he secretly had a job on producing drugs. There was even a rumor about him being sent to a juvenile detention center, for fuck's sake. He had to walk around and listen to people constantly talking shit to others about him being such an asshole despite being rich, and the next reply would always be something about why he couldn't be like his older brothers or sister.

It was true that the youngest child of the Samael Family was a person who was hot-headed and cussed at everyone. He drank a lot and rebelled against his family. Satan never smiled at anyone, except when he was looking at cats or when he was talking to his friends. He hung out with a group of assholes and jocks, and he sneaks out at night to go to parties. He was quick to anger and didn't hesitate to snap back to anyone. He was, admittedly, the child who had the most issues in their family, but did Satan Samael give a fuck? Not at all. He knew all too well that even if he was a mess, he was still a nice kid and the smartest one out of all of them.

If he were to boast about it, he was the only one who wanted to take up a course related to medicine, which was basically a dream come true to his mother who he cherished oh so much. He had straight A's despite skipping classes at times, and he always answered well when he was made to recite. He tried to not worry his mother too much and always made her favorite meal whenever they were doing their reading sessions together. He bought a lot of books for them to read and researched a lot. He went to animal shelters often just to donate money and other animal needs. His inner gentleman was hidden away, but it always shows up whenever there was someone who treated him nicely. Since Lilith went to a different school (a prestigious music school), he insisted on walking to school alone instead of riding one of their cars for many different reasons and knew how to defend himself just in case. He even insisted going to school in a public school ever since he was in middle school so it wouldn't be a hassle to get there compared to his other siblings (who went to private schools all their lives). His brothers and his only sister all went to the other side of town to get to their own destination, and he was the one left alone. Satan was a nice kid behind that stone cold wall of wrath, and only his family knew about it.

He was on that street by that café he always passed by and didn't pass a single glance at it, but he couldn't help but actually look at it properly when he saw through his peripheral vision someone who looked around his age wiping at the window. Two signs were hung on the door and one of them read 'open' in capital letters, while the other read that they were looking for a part-time worker. He figured that the person worked part-time there. He contemplated for a bit as he watched you wipe down on the windows. Well, he was planning on skipping classes, so working and applying in that café might be better. Without hesitating, he approached the barista and stood next to you, immediately saying, "You're accepting part timers?"

Satan felt guilty afterwards when he saw how you were obviously taken by surprise, judging by the look on your face and how you were gripping your uniform so tightly. "Oh my fucking god—" You huffed before taking in his appearance. He watched as you eyed him for a bit, particularly just scanning (read: taking a good look) at his face for a few moments, before smiling wide and taking your hand away from the window, the rag still in your hand. There seemed to be a look of realization that was glinting in your eyes. "Oh, hey! I know you!" There it was. He figured that you would end up saying that, but not with that smile. He knows that you'll end up saying that he's Mammon's brother or that juvenile delinquent or that underage drinker or that blon—

"Of course we are! Satan, right?"

Wait, what?

"Oh." That was all he could manage to mutter out after that statement. A few seconds of something in between peaceful and awkward silence was shared between the two of you, your smile never faltering for even a bit. He cleared his throat and spoke up once more. "Yeah. How did you know?"

The laughter that bubbled from your throat was a different feeling. He's never met someone who was all smiley and nice before, and he certainly has never met someone who didn't know him from stories or rumors about him being total jackass before. "My cousin from my mother side goes to the same fine arts university that your brothers go to and he specialises in dance." You explained as you laid your hand back on the window, going back to wiping and making sure it was spotless. "They went over a few days ago to work on a group project and your brothers told us about the whole family. It was mostly Beel, though, while Belphie slept and added some rather negative side remarks. Also, hey, do you think you could wipe that top portion for me? It's usually uncle who does this, but he's sick." You looked back at him, and he didn't hesitate to take the rag for you and wipe down on the area you couldn't reach.

"You live with your cousins?" Satan asked as he continued wiping as you went behind him to take the backpack hanging by one of his shoulders, and when he felt your hands by the straps of his bag, he let you take it to he could comfortably clean. "Also, what did they say about me?" He asked with his head turning a bit to take look at you, and you gave him a gentle grin as you held his heavy backpack close to your chest. Actually, heavy was a fucking understatement. It awed you how he had to walk to school and walk back home with this heavy backpack, because he looked thin and didn't really look like he would be able to lift up that heavy of a bag.

"Yeah, I studied too early and got accelerated when I was in 7th grade, but I didn't want to go to college early so I went to Japan to work for a bit and make some money." You answered his first question as he handed back the rag towards you in the middle of your sentence and took back his bag from you. You were walking back inside, and before you could open the door to the café, he was fast enough to hold it open for you to go in. "Beel said that you were favored by your mom, and that you were absolutely smart. Belphie said that you were an asshole, but I didn't really want to believe that." You smiled wide as you stepped inside and waited for him to enter, leading him to the employee's supply room that had shelves for storage. Satan felt the warm air that came from the heater hit his body, and he sighed in relief as he freely took off his winter coat.

"Why so? What makes you sure that I'm not one?" He asked once again with a raised eyebrow, setting his bag down by one of the shelves and hanging his coat by the coat rack in the supply room. He stood there and watched you go through a box full of aprons with the café's logo on it.

With that bright grin of yours that never seemed to leave your face, you had an apron in hand and gave it to him, mentally hoping that the apron you gave him was the right size. He hesitated for a few seconds before deciding to finally slip off his blazer and remove his necktie with the RAD school logo. He then placed the apron neatly on top of his white dress shirt. "Well, I know for a fact that you're your mother's favorite. I don't think you'll be her favorite if you weren't nice. You wouldn't be here either if you weren't someone nice." You stated and reached up a hand to give his shoulder a light pat, before turning around to go back outside.

Satan stood still, unmoving and shocked by the sudden skin contact, and he was left alone in the supply room. It was only when you yelled for him to come out that he snapped out of his trance, and with a genuine smile gracing his features, he stepped out of the dark room to start his first day of his part-time job.

"I'm home." Satan spoke as he entered the large mansion that they considered as their home. It was unusual for him to come home early, and even the guard who was on his shift was surprised to see him already home. His personal butler, who was in the middle of drinking tea and reading a book that he recently bought in the lounge room, was the first one to greet the blonde man.

"You're home already? Your school ends at 3:15, and you usually hang out with your friends until 8, right?" Azazel asked with a small smile at the sight of the boy he took care of since he was practically in diapers. He was like the son he could never have, of course, since he was way too content with his work to be thinking of having a family. "Did you even go to school?"

Azazel grew up in a decent family with an adoptive younger sister named Akuma, who was younger than him by ten years. He had just the perfect shade of baby pink hair and had the softest, burgundy-colored eyes. It was all complimented by his pale skin that was as soft as a baby's bum, and he had an average build and height. Add all those together, and he was an actual carbon copy of his mother. Their parents were unfortunately unable to provide for their needs anymore, and Azazel had to stop studying in the middle of his second year of college at the fresh age of 19 due to the lack of income. So, he ended up dropping out and decided to start working for his family, not wanting the lack of money to ruin his younger sister's dream of becoming an anesthesiologist. He was lucky enough that Barbatos, one of his close cousins, were able to refer him to a job without a college degree. He was lucky enough to get accepted right away, since the man's wife was weeks away from giving birth. After she gave birth, out came Satan and he was assigned to be his personal butler. He basically raised him alongside Mrs. Samael, more often than the boss of the house did.

Satan scoffed as he slipped off his shoes and neatly placed it on his own shoe shelf by the wall. There were times that he envied his brothers by the amount of luxuries and expensive presents that they got from families. Their personal shoe shelves were all filled to the brim, while the shoe shelf that was under his name only filled three shelves out of ten. He knew he wasn't the most decent member of the family, and that he shouldn't even care about it, but he couldn't help it. It was hard to not feel guilty for his birth or envious of his brothers whenever he remembers that he was the unplanned child, the problem kid, and the boy full of nothing but wrath. It was hard not to remember it when he remembered that the bedroom he had right now didn't exist in the first place and was just two regular guest rooms who had the wall between them taken last minute.

"Come to my room then, Azazel. I'll tell you all about my day today." Satan answered with a small grin at his father-like figure before making his way up to his room. Closing the book in his hand after marking the page where he left off, he placed the hard-covered material on the rather large coffee table next to his cup of tea and wasted no time in following his young master.

After the long flight of stairs up to his room, Satan was already comfortable in the presence of his private space. It was a room of his dreams, really, something you would see in castles based off the countless novels he read— a large window was directly across the room from his door with a built in, window-nook, king size bed of the same length. His room was rather spacious and everything was neat. Just beside the door was a clothes rack where hung his pyjamas and other clean clothes that he regularly wears (because he never sweats for some god-awful reason). On the left size of the room was a large bookshelf that was built into the wall and was almost full of books, with only a few shelves remaining. A cozy-looking sectional couch was there, along with a large coffee table in front of it and a mini refrigerator to the side. There was a smart television in front of the couch just by the wall beside the door, and it was completed with a small table that was just framed pictures, awards, and medals. The right side of the room was near where the bed ended. There was a large study desk where two Mac Pros were placed on, and just underneath that was where he usually placed his school bags. There were two doors, one that led to his own bathroom and another that led to his walk-in closet. His room was mostly white and dark green themed, so his inner slytherin beneath his ravenclaw demeanor was rather pleased.

"So? Where were you off to today that you decided to skip school?" Azazel asked with a chuckle, freely making his way over to the dark green couch and comfortably taking a seat on the soft cushions. His slanted eyes were turned into crescents when he smiled, and his burgundy irises never failed to glint with happiness towards the boy who he practically raised.

Satan couldn't help but let out a laugh as he walked over to the study desk he had by the corner and set his backpack down on the seat. That's only when Azazel had realized that Satan was only wearing the white, long-sleeved dress shirt that was part of his school's uniform, and that the dark blue blazer and yellow necktie with the words RAD was nowhere to be found. A few moments, Satan had pulled out a dark brown apron that was just about his size and gave his butler a big smile. "I got a part-time job at this café that I passed by all the time just earlier." He said, throwing over the apron to his butler, who only caught it and checked the logo of the café. "I decided that I'll work for around 5 hours on the weekdays and 7 hours on the weekends. I'll just have to work after school, so I'll have to be finished around 8 or 9 probably."

"Dreamland Café." He looked up after reading the logo that was printed in white lettering. He handed back Satan the apron by tossing it in the same way, and the teenager swiftly caught it before placing it back neatly inside his backpack. "So, you won't be drinking anymore? What got you into this, anyway?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I'd still drink." Satan rolled his eyes as if he had just heard the most bizarre thing ever whilst walking over to the clothes rack and unbuttoning his dress shirt to change out of his clothes. Without hesitating, he took off his dress shirt and changed into his dark green oversized tank top. "There was a barista wiping the windows and they couldn't reach it. Foreign, but they spoke in really good Japanese. The café was hiring part-time, and I'd really stay outside rather than see father's face."

Azazel only laughed at his statement. He was used to his antics already, and honestly, the part time job was just one of his mild ones, so he didn't mind it. He always sided and defended Satan no matter what, because he obviously needed that. Ever since Satan was a child, he hated his old man. Actually, the word hate was an understatement for his feelings towards that ghy. He despised him and was disgusted at everything he does. He always wanted to smack a punch on his pretty little smirk. He talked shit about him and couldn't stand him, even when all that Lucifer did was just breathe in his direction.

"Just don't let your father find out then. You know how he'll react." The butler stood up, adjusting his necktie a bit before making his way to the door and gently taking hold of the knob. "I suggest telling your mother though. She might want to know about this, especially when she finds out you're leaving on weekends."

That's where Satan found himself regularly ditching his friends' hangouts and stopped drinking regularly everyday for the past two months. He was always looking forward to the time he would make it to the café, and even went to the extent of buying himself an electric bike just to get to the café faster (which he will never admit to you that he did, but you already knew it). He had to admit, he grew fond of you and the little family he formed with the café owners. He started to enjoy just talking about random things and laughing all the time while he did his homeworks. He was just the person who usually took people's orders, which was why he was able to finish his homeworks earlier compared to the times he stayed out drinking. After his shifts, he would stay and have dinner with you and the family, most of which was home cooked meals that he rarely had since he used to just eat junk food.

He couldn't care less about his salary, really. His first paycheck was something he was shocked at (and him mentally asking, "how can someone who lacks so much money be so generous?"), and so he specifically asked for the minimum wage and only asked to count in for 3 hours everyday. When he requested for that, of course your aunt was hesitant about accepting that request, but Satan just kept insisting and even told her how he didn't need the money. He really just wanted to spend his time somewhere else, and that explanation was enough for your aunt to agree and just go with the decision he asked for. So, every 23rd of the month, he gets a paycheck of ¥58000 to ¥60000.

By the time summer vacation started, he had already changed his wallpaper on his desktop to one specific group picture of the people he got close to— your aunt and uncle was on each side with big smiles on their faces, your two cousins and their spouses were at the back and what seemed to be laughing in the background, your niece and nephew was right at the front and playing around without noticing the camera shot, your cousin that was still in college was laying on the floor and doing an attempt of his embarrassingly sexy french girl pose, while you and Satan were right in the middle of the picture with a content smile on your faces. It would never make his heart flutter, and he even went to print out the picture and have it framed to add it to the collection of pictures in his room. His phone's wallpaper, on the other hand, was a selfie that you secretly took. He didn't know when that picture was taken, but he was surprised to find that (along with about more than 30 selfies) while he was scrolling through his gallery to find the picture of the history lecture that was written on the board.

He found himself already too attached to the whole bunch of people he met, especially you. He found himself laughing and smiling more, or even taking care of your niece and nephew along with their pet cat at some days. It was like he was part of a family that genuinely cared and loved for each other despite not being as wealthy as them. He loved his family, as much as he hated to admit it, but he just loved spending more time at the café since it was fun. There was this warmth that he always had in this chest whenever he spent his time there. So when the days passed and he realized that it was already July, he was thrilled. Sure, it's where he finally gets to ditch the thick uniforms and long-sleeved outfits for the winter that their school provides, and finally wear the short-sleeved dress shirt without the stupid necktie or the blazer. He was mostly looking forward to the promise he made about working for 8 hours during the weekdays and staying at home on the weekends to do his homeworks all day during summer vacation.

There were times when he zoned out for a few minutes just looking through those selfies you took on his phone, and he didn't even realize that he already had a folder specifically just for your pictures and named it as eyebleach just for him to stare at. One weekend, he was suddenly panicking and letting out loud screeches. He went as far as cursing at himself too loudly that it could be heard by the whole floor (which mainly just consisted of the family's bedrooms), and when Levi came to check up on him out of worry and annoyance since he couldn't focus on the codes he was typing into his desktop, Satan was already under his blankets and red-faced. He thought he could sleep it off and that he'd wake up without the butterflies, but when he checked his phone to look at the time and see that you were calling him at three in the morning, he suddenly felt his heart flutter even more and his face warm up at the idea of talking to you late at night. And, that's when he confirmed to himself that he really was starting to take a shine towards you.

The first one of his siblings who found out about his wallpaper and insane crush on you was Asmo, and Satan literally had to beg and cry about how his older brother couldn't tell it to anyone. Asmo could only laugh and just agree with it. Despite Asmo's being curious on who the heck you were and how you two met, he decided to not let his curiosity get the best of him and continue on with his work. Lilith was the next one to find out, and she literally squealed and just asked Satan for more information about you, but Satan just stood his ground and stayed silent even after his older sister practically whined and continuously hit him with cushions and pillows. If Mammon or Levi finds out, he'd be exposed for sure. Levi would be whining about how it wasn't fair that he was seeing someone at his age and that he'd be the first one to get laid (and not just be in a one night stand or a regular hookup), while Mammon would be constantly teasing him and giving him weird nicknames. Although he seemed like he wouldn't be the type to do that, Lucifer would ask him everyday about you and possibly meet up with you, giving a request to date him or marry him in the future all while going on about how Satan was in love with you, which was annoying because Lucifer gets on his nerves a lot. Beel and Belphie are the only ones who are the most sane, since Beel would just smile and nod before going back to eating his food, while Belphie would just brush him off and go back to getting his sleep.

(Belphie knew about his crush on you though, and he didn't know how that happened or where he met you, but he just happened to find out about it. He just didn't bother Satan about it.)

Currently, he was in the café and had just finished taking orders from the surprisingly long line of customers. He was seated on one of the seats that were near the counter and was in the middle of reading a new book that he bought earlier while he was shopping for the list of ingredients and supplies that your aunt asked him to buy in the nearest mall. It was a story about a ghost woman who came back from the dead after five years and was given 49 days to take back her place into being her husband's wife and her five-year-old daughter's mother, except her husband already remarried and that her daughter thinks that her step-mom was her real mom. It was a really good book, and he ended up shedding a few tears (read: a bucket of tears) while he was reading the first chapter of the story. He was reading the second chapter of the story and was already at the part where Yuri, the ghost mom, was finally able to hold her daughter and hug her after coming back from the dead and was just about to shed a few tears until he heard a car pull up into a park from outside. He paused his reading session and looked up, before choking on his breath upon seeing the familiar sight of his two eldest brothers and their personal butlers come out of the car.

"Shit. This is bad." He cursed under his breath before hurriedly using a clean piece of tissue as his bookmark and closing it, placing it beside the cash register and rushing off to where you sat. You were just in the middle of eating one of the freshly-made glazed doughnuts when the handsome blonde approached you with a panicked look on his face. He was in such a panic that you couldn't help but panic along with him, standing up in a hurry and placing the doughnut down and waiting for him to speak up. "My older brothers are here. I don't think they'll like it when they find out I work here. Let's exchange spots real quick, please?"

Your eyes gazed over to the glass windows and door quickly and took a look at the four men walking over to the entrance. Without hesitation, you swallowed down the doughnut you were chewing and nodded before making your way over to the counter while wiping the crumbs off your face with your sleeve. You turned your head a bit, only to see Satan taking his black face mask out from the apron's pocket and placing it on his face. You took off your bucket hat that was on your head to toss it at him, and you held back a laugh when you saw him struggling a bit as it fell to the ground. The sound of the bell ringing from the door opening made you turn around to the entrance, while Satan was quick to crouch and pick up the accessory to wear it and hide his face from his brothers. Two men— one who had pale skin and rich black hair, and another who had actual white hair and taupe brown skin urged two men to sit on a table, despite their protests. A bright grin was on your face in an instant and greeted them as they approached, "Good afternoon, welcome to Dreamland Café. May I take your order?"

You were waiting patiently as they read through the large menu that was on the wall just beside the counter, and you even stole a glance behind you to check on Satan. He was scrolling through his phone and seated where you were previously sitting. His half-assed disguise really was clever, since his hair wasn't visible from the front due to the bucket hat's brim that was wide enough to cover his face from the side, and his face mask would cover his face if he faces the front. You turned back to look at the two men who were now staring at you. "We'll have one iced americano, two cups of earl gray tea, and one iced caramel macchiato." Lucifer stated his order as he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet.

"Is that all?" You asked as you started pressing the specified drinks that were stated on the cashier's monitor. You heard another voice speak up soon after, which you looked up to smile at them politely.

"Oh, get me two strawberry waffles! One for me, and one for my butler." Mammon was grinning wide, and you chuckled before nodding.

You pressed over to the buttons that contained the additional desserts said before totalling it all, repeating the names of their orders to clear it up. "One iced americano, two cups of earl gray tea, an iced caramel macchiato, and two strawberry waffles— The total will be ¥3000." Lucifer nodded and handed over a banknote of ¥5000, and you took the said bill from the man and opened up the cash register. "Please tell me your name as we will be calling out your name for you to be able to collect your order." The noisy sound of the bill printing was heard, and just when you were about to take two bills of ¥1000 in the cash register, his next statement was enough to stop you in your movements.

"The order is for Lucifer. Also, please just keep the change. I don't mind at all." The elegant man gave you a polite grin, and the sound of his deep chuckle was heard from him. Without another word, the two men walked away to their table and continued discussing their personal matters.

Behind you, Satan was listening to the small interaction between you and his older brothers. His hands were clenched into a fist and his teeth were gritting, yet he held back so that he would avoid breaking something. He'll just have to drink this away later.

"Why are you so mad?" You asked him, and you could feel him stiffen underneath your touch. His hard gaze didn't waver, though, but you could see a faint rosy pink starting to dust his cheeks.

Satan was rushing to get out of the café the moment his shift ended. "Where are you going?" You asked with a frown on your face, and you felt your heart ache badly when he didn't pay no mind to answer your question. Without hesitating, you stood up from your place and followed him out as fast as you could. You were already by Satan's electric bike when you were able to catch up to him, so you gently took hold of his wrist. "Hey, look at me, won't you?" You said with frustration evident in your voice, and when he finally decided to meet your eyes, you saw how dark his expression was. He was stiff, his eyes were dark, and it was evident that he was gritting his teeth. You knew how little his patience was, that is after witnessing him getting mad at a drunk customer who was rude to your aunt, and it really did take a while for him to calm down. He was someone who held grudges for a long time, and he was someone who got irritated easily.

"Why are you so mad?" You asked him, and you could feel him stiffen underneath your touch. His hard gaze didn't waver, though, but you could see a faint rosy pink starting to dust his cheeks.

"It's nothing. I'm just going out for a drink." Satan answered with an evident pout on his face, his eyes softening after a few moments and moving his gaze away from you. He wants to look somewhere— anywhere else but you, because he's sure that he'll turn into a blushing mess in front of you. His brows were furrowed while his cheeks were a bit puffed out, and it reminded you of a little kid whose mom didn't buy their favorite toy. Just when you were about to reply, his gaze hardened once more and that blush was gone. "Just stay here. Don't worry about it."

Satan was secretive of emotions. He hardly showed how he was feeling, and nobody could tell what he was thinking or what his true intentions were behind the usual coy smile on his lips, and even behind the scowl he used to wear on his face. Truth being told, he was jealous. He had zero intention of letting the rest of his brothers know of his little crush on you or his part-time job in this café that deserved the title as his second home. But, the fact that said brothers decided to have a snack at the café he works at, and that it was Lucifer out of the five of them, just enraged him. The sight of his older brother being all goody-goody and all smiley with you at the cash register made his blood boil.

He was the exact opposite of his older sister. He was the actual personification of wrath in a rebellious teenage boy's body, going against his father's every will and having to go through the pain of getting compared to her everyday. They were actual carbon copies of each other— blonde hair that was parted on the same side, and the same gradient of blue and light green eyes that became a beautiful shade of teal in the middle when the two colors met. Except, she was the definition of a teenage girl who was far more patient than her younger brother and favored by their demon of a father. He loved his sister, really, but what he didn't love was the constant comparison and the shame their father puts on him ever since he could remember, the youngest of the Samael family.

That led to his impatience and the constant feeling of being annoyed by everything. He became unable to hold back his anger at anything that gets him going, and it caused him to rebel against his father's wishes because he was always happy when his father was disappointed. Pushing his buttons was something he enjoyed doing, and the comparison didn't even phase him in the slightest anymore. Lucifer, on the other hand, was a different story. He loved Lucifer as much as he hated to admit it. His eldest brother (and Azazel) became more of his father than their actual old man will ever be— and Satan was thankful for it. He was just pissed because Lucifer was the person that he could talk to a lot of matters about, and just the sight of Lucifer talking to you just made him jealous.

His jealousy led to where he was at minutes ago— drunk after having several bottles of whiskey and asleep on one of the tables. He drunk-called Asmodeus, full and having finished two bowls of oden, and honestly people watching him were absolutely curious on how the hell he was still able to use his handphone. He was picked up by a worried Asmodeus and his frustrated boyfriend, Solomon, who Satan met on several occasions. He was supposed to call in his butler, but Azazel was too sweet of a man and Satan didn't want to bother him. Moments later, though, he found himself already drunk calling you before they could notice. The sound of his drunk greeting and hiccups made you almost think it wasn't him, until the dots in your head connected and it all made sense to you now.

"And you told me that I shouldn't be worried." You groaned out in frustration at the drunk blonde's voice. He called you in the middle of your sleep, and just the sound of his drunken slurs were enough to prevent you from getting cranky. If you could listen closely, there were car honkings that were heard in the background, followed by a string of curses that didn't exactly sound like Satan. "Where the hell are you?"

On the other line, you could hear Satan letting out drunken giggles. "MC!! Your—" A hiccup. "Your highness—!! I am… Inside— Asmodeus, my dearest big brother's car!! I have come to rescue you from the… Big mean dragon!!" He slurred out, and let out another hiccup, and you swore you could hear a thud and the voice, who was cursing earlier, yell at him in the background.

You chuckled a bit, and before you could even reply, there was the sound of what you could describe as wind blowing or something and Satan's loud whining, before a cheerful voice came in the background. "Oooh, so you're MC?" The voice said, before letting out a soft giggle. "You see, our youngest one here is quite drunk at the moment, and he rolled off the backseat when the car stopped." He explained, which you realized what might have been the loud thud earlier. "Well, Satan will talk to you tomorrow! Get some rest, and I apologize for waking you up! Goodnight!"

That was the end of the conversation before the call was dropped, leaving you laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. You knew he got drunk often, based on what you heard from the twins, but you certainly didn't expect that he'd end up drunk calling you today. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the thought of him slurring and rolling off the backseat, and that imagination was just enough to make you drift off back to sleep with a small smile on your face.

Time passed by like a breeze, and soon, it was already December. Of course, the weather in Otaru City falls dramatically low in this season and it would make you feel like you were in a damn freezer, which explained the turning off for the air conditioning of the café and to turn on the heaters. It was the 23rd of December. The snow was slowly starting to fall and make the whole temperature colder than usual, and the thick Christmas sweater you were wearing definitely didn't help the current situation. There were a lot of customers in the café, sipping away on their hot drinks and having dates with their friends or lovers. Just watching them interact made you feel lonely already, because it was a fucking cuddle weather and somebody (read: Satan) wasn't there to cuddle you.

So there you were, waiting like Juliet by the counter and sulking as you checked the time every so often. You were getting impatient by the minute, and by the time it was already 3:15, you kept looking up at the door only to be met with disappointment when it wasn't Satan who arrived. After a countless cycle of expecting and being disappointed for what felt like hours, Satan finally arrived ten minutes after 4, panting and sweating a bit despite the cold weather. You could only let out an amusing laugh at the sight of his tired face, and he couldn't help but give an amused smile at the sight of you. You didn't care about the number of customers at the moment and chose to rush up to the blonde boy, who was still panting by the doorway in his thick blazer and winter coat that you knew he hated with a passion. "You seem like you were rushing to get here." You chuckled as you took off his heavy bag for him, and he instantly took off his winter coat along with his blazer, holding them in one hand.

Satan nodded with a grin, smiling wide as he held the door open for you and let you step out first. "Alright. It already sounds delicious, but what else do I expect from the best chefs in Hokkaido?" He chuckled and closed the door behind him once the both of you were outside, going ahead to take his place on the counter and sit on the high stool.

"Well, just sit your good-looking ass on that stool and wait. I'll brew you some Earl Grey and prepare a plate from the best chefs in Hokkaido to give you an early taste of the menu." You laughed as you teased him, and you could see the tip of his ears visibly flush red at the first sentence. You then headed towards the kitchen where the rest of the family usually stays. Before you could enter, though, you heard him yell out to you about making it cold brewed, to which you yelled back in understanding.

He took off his tie and managed to utter out a response through his pants. "I was." He gave a nod, and he followed your steps as you started to make your way to the counter. "I needed the heater in this café. It's freezing, and the school's heater wasn't warm enough." He said by the time he finally was able to catch his breath, retrieving his school bag from you and taking his apron from inside, sighing softly. "I suppose biking too fast made me dizzy and hungry. I didn't want snow to fall on me either."

"Yeah. The weather says that the first snowfall was supposed to happen around 5, though, so you're in luck to get here early." You smiled as you placed his bag down on the shelf, watching as he combed through his hair and wiped the small beads of sweat trailing down his face with his handkerchief. "You can have a plate of aunt's new garlic bread recipe and uncle's new sardine pasta. They're not really part of the menu yet and we plan on adding them on Christmas, but you can have them first while you rest up."

Satan was patiently waiting by the counter and taking orders from customers who came in, and he just listened to the speakers that were blaring out classical music. His favorite in Vivaldi's Four Seasons Concerti was playing at the moment, which was the third movement of his winter concerto. He always enjoyed listening to classical music, and it was definitely the best genre in his opinion. Of course, there were times that he wished that he continued taking his piano lessons when he was younger so he would be able to play it like the ones he listened to, but what could he do about it? He ran off from piano lessons every time until the teacher became sick of it, leaving the poor instrument collecting dust in one room that nobody really uses anymore.

By the time you came out of the kitchen, it was already quarter to five, and Satan had finished two bottles of water already. The scent of the freshly cooked pastry and pasta was enough to make his mouth water, and he turned around to see that he was bringing you a tray of the unreleased menu dishes and a small jug of cold-brewed earl grey tea. With that oh-so-familiar bright smile on your face that he grew to love over the months, you approached him and set the tray in front of him. He just kept staring at your face, and your next words cut him out of his trance. "Go on, try it! I promise you, you'll like it!" You urged him on, taking a seat on the empty stool next to him.

Snapping back to reality and mentally slapping himself for staring at you like a fucking idiot, Satan hurriedly took the fork and knife that was resting on the tray. He first sliced a small piece of his garlic bread that looked like it just came out of the oven, revealing hot cheese stretching as he pulled up the piece to his lips and blowing on it. After a few moments, he popped the piece into his mouth, and he felt like all his taste buds just exploded from the rich flavor of the garlic and cheese that somehow melted together, a delicate taste that made him hungry for more of the newly-baked pastry. After swallowing down on the piece, his fork that was resting on his right hand was put to use as it collected a forkful of sardine pasta that seemed freshly cooked, and once again brought it past his lips to take the whole forkful. He didn't hold back the satisfied sound that came from his throat, almost like a hum, and smiled wide at the taste. Of course, what else could he expect from who he referred to as the best chefs in Hokkaido, anyways?

"It's delicious!" Satan exclaimed, to which you responded with a chuckle and a nod, signalling him to continue on with his meal. There was a peaceful atmosphere in the café. With classical music in the background, people's chattering around you, and you two staring at each other's eyes with smiles on your faces— you felt comfortable. The temperature in Otaru definitely went lower, but the warmth stirring up in your chest was enough to convince you that it was the same day as always. Just you and Satan by the counter, taking orders and serving people their meals.

You heard the kids in the café rushing up to the window and yelling as they looked out at what was happening, and when you turned your head to look at them, you saw the first falling of snow of the winter season right in front of you. There were couples smiling and taking pictures of the snow, and some were giving kisses to their significant others. Teenagers would keep chatting with their friends after taking pictures of the falling snow. When you turned to look back at the blonde teen sitting next to you, your eyes met with his blue-green ones, and you felt your heart thump against your chest at the eye contact. Your eyes were slowly taking in every single detail that was on his face— such as how his blonde hair was just the right kind of messy, or how his eyes were just the perfect gradient from blue to green. When your eyes came down to look at his lips, they looked so soft and warm. His skin definitely looked clear and soft, too, and in the back of your mind, you wondered about what his skin routine was.

More importantly, though, the words that were on your mind were just questions alone that consisted along the lines of mostly; When the hell did he look so attractive? and There's no way I'm starting to like him, right? because you constantly thought of yourself as someone not worthy to be liked, and your self-confidence was just going down the drain.

"People say that when you spend time with someone on the first snow, you'll be staying with them for a long time." Satan's words snapped you back to reality, causing you to jump a bit at your seat. "Well, I hope that's true. I really want to stay with you and your family for a long time, you know?"

Satan was being honest when he said those words, and he always thought that you wouldn't end up liking someone back that was him— a delinquent that was feared by people in their neighbourhood. It never crossed his mind, and whenever people would bring up about that subject, he would just laugh it off as it was some dumb joke.

For the eight months he worked alongside you, he got to know you well enough that there were things he saw or lines he heard that would remind him of you. In his school, when it was time for the daily classroom cleanups, there would always be this one short student who wouldn't be able to reach the top half of the blackboards and whiteboards, and the tall student cleaning near them would always help them out. It would bring him back to the time he met you, and how he wouldn't be happier and healthier if he didn't help you out. He wouldn't have a part-time job that he would consider as an escape, nor would he have the second family that he always wanted to have (since he didn't really consider school as his second family). He wouldn't have stopped skipping classes or continue to constantly ruin his liver by drinking every night.

For eight months, he kept growing feelings for you that he never experienced before. At first, it was all mild. In the beginning, it was simply just some sort of excitement or motivation for him to keep up his work because he's gaining a new friend that actually encouraged him to be a better person. He thought it was something he could get over, that is until he realized that his feelings weren't really fading away. Lilith and Asmo already knew about it, so Satan knew that it was impossible for his whole crush on you to not be known by the rest of his siblings. He couldn't forget when Belphie and Beel suddenly approached him one night while he was in the middle of reading a book to ask him about you, or when Mammon suddenly started teasing him about his little crush on you whenever he was passing by the hallways. Leviathan was of course envious, and he was quick to shoot Satan with unending questions about his lovelife. Their mom was absolutely ecstatic when she found out about it and kept asking Satan when he'll ask her out. Lucifer was the last one to find out and seemed absolutely uninterested by the news, but Satan knew that he'd one day visit the café just to have a little chat with you. Satan had to beg every single one of them — literally getting on his knees and shedding some fake tears — to not tell father. So, it was a dirty little secret that the nine of them had.

Which is why when Satan brought home the bacon (that he really didn't need) that day after biking in the snow, he certainly didn't expect this. He enjoyed the whole day because he got to spend time with you and the rest of the crew until almost midnight, only to be ruined by the sight of this. He expected that he would get home and immediately rest in his bed— but no. He arrived home, entered the lounge room, and was met by the sight of his father sitting on his reclining seat, staring straight at him. His mother was standing just behind the seat, looking as if she had just recently bawled her eyes out. The rest of his siblings had their heads hung low, and the tension in the atmosphere was so high that the smile on his face went away, immediately being replaced by a frown. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized that there wasn't a single butler or maid in sight, and that's when he knew that it was another one of their family matters.

"Where have you been?" Their father's deep voice boomed, and the youngest immediately let out a scoff with a roll of his eyes. Scratch that, it was another one of his annoying lectures that just compared him to his older sister mostly, or even the rest of his older brothers.

Satan Samael was quick to answer that, though. Of course, it was just a rhetorical question to see his father pissed, because he loved seeing the old man getting his panties in a twist. "Oh, so you care about me now?" He barked back, letting his school bag drop to the ground and crossing his arms. He was thankful he accidentally left the café's apron back there and that he came home with a complete school uniform.

The man visibly grit his teeth, and he stood up from his seat, alarming his mother. "Who is this whore that you have been seeing, and where the hell have you been working?" He spat, his words lacing with venom as he spoke. Satan could care less about what was going to happen, but he wasn't able to stand the degrading name his father called you. He uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white and his fists were shaking.

Satan marched up to him without hesitation and began yelling at his father. "Back then, I went home drunk and past midnight almost everyday. There was a large chance that I came back here high on weed, and you didn't even bat an eye towards me!" He roared with fury, doing his very best to hold back his actions. His pale skin was starting to become red with anger, and his eyes just held anger. "Now, I started coming home earlier and stopped doing my vices, but you're starting to give me shit for it? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Lift your heads up." The man who commanded. That command made all seven of his siblings look up in an instant with dark eyes, and the sight of their faces made Satan angrier by the second. All of them had slap marks on their faces, and Asmodeus had the most of it. Lilith had dried tear stains on her cheeks, and there were two visible scars that were on her left cheek, along with his father's handprint on her right cheek. Belphegor had a bruise on his face, along with the slap marks, but aside from that, no other damage was made. Levi's cheeks had bruises from what Satan assumed to be his father's fingers from gripping the face too hard. Satan glared at his father and held back a fist, but his father unfortunately had faster hands. The sound of Lucifer's voice protesting was heard for a moment, along with Mammon's call for him to stop, before a loud slap echoed through the room. At first, Satan felt like his cheek went numb, and it slowly transitioned into pain. Soon, the blonde felt tears slowly dripping down his cheeks. "That's what happened to your siblings for keeping a secret from me about this bitch you were seeing! All because of you."

Satan felt his bottom lip trembling as his shoulders began to shake. He didn't know why he was crying, but it always happened to him whenever he couldn't let out his anger properly. "Still— You can't do that to them just because of me! That's not discipline, it's abuse! You could have done all of that to me instead!" He raged, bringing a fist up to wipe away at his tears furiously. "They're not a bitch either! They never had any romantic relationship, and you don't have the right to call them that!"

"You are not going in that café anymore. You are deleting their number and you are never seeing them anymore. Don't make me do the same thing I did to you and your siblings to your little butler." Those were the last words Satan heard before his father marched up the stairs, and the blonde boy instantly bawled in front of his family.

"I'm sorry we couldn't keep it from him." An apology was heard from his Lucifer, which took him by surprise. Those words only made him bawl even more, though, and he immediately felt comforting arms wrap around his body like he was a fragile figure. His cries were muffled when Satan pressed his head against his mother's shoulder, and the teenage boy only hugged back as he broke down in front of his older siblings and his mother.

"It's a present from him." Azazel handed you the perfectly wrapped box of whatever is inside, a small smile gracing his features. You stayed silent as you gently took the present from him. "I'm sorry that he didn't get to spend Christmas with you. I was supposed to take the blame, being his butler and all—"

"No!" You exclaimed, catching him off guard a bit, and you added to your sudden outburst. "No… You shouldn't do that. Satan doesn't like it when people take the blame for him." You nervously laughed and fumbled with the present, feeling your throat form a lump at the realization that the blonde won't be working here anymore. "He talks about you quite often… He's thankful, you know, that you're always there, but he doesn't like it when you take the blame for him… He feels bad about it, so…" You trailed off. You found it hard conversing with someone who you know takes care of Satan or knows him very well, and you hated how a small trickle of hope of ever meeting him again was forming at the bottom of your gut.

Azazel nodded, chuckling soon after. "Ah, I see. Well, he does talk about you quite a lot, too." He smiled before checking the time on his wristwatch, and then looking up to take a look at you once more. "Well, do you have anything to give him, then? Or anything else to say?"

You nodded and went to the counter for a few moments, placing the present on top of the countertop and coming back to him to hand him a thick notebook, the covers being a plain black color. "Um… That's just a copy of recipes of all his favorite food and drinks in this café, and how to make it. It isn't really that much. I just kept writing it down whenever he mentions he had a new favorite. There are also some pictures of the two of us there, which were my favorites. I planned to give it to him today, but, you know…" You cleared your throat a bit and didn't bother finishing the last sentence, and when he took the thick notebook from you, you gave Satan's personal butler a bow. "Please take care of him for us!" Azazel was a bit taken aback by the way you gave him a bow that exceeded ninety degrees, and how there was a hint of desperation laced in your voice.

You heard Azazel give another one of his chuckles, before hearing his response. "Of course I will. What else is the purpose of my job, then?" He laughed and heard footsteps walking towards the door. The sound of the door opening was heard, and another statement was added. "Thank you for unconsciously changing Satan, by the way. We appreciate that." Just when you looked up to ask him about what he meant, the door closed and you saw him walking towards an expensive looking car. The digital clock by the door showed the numbers 03:00, reminding you of the time when Satan mentioned that it would be the start of their classroom cleanups around that time and he would look forward to making his way towards the café.

Taking a deep breath, you walked towards the countertop towards the unopened present. You shakily exhaled as you undid the red ribbon that was around the gift and hesitantly tore open the wrapping paper. Inside was a box that wasn't really taped together, allowing the easy access of just opening it. Inside the box revealed a hoodie that was neatly folded, a framed picture, a book, and a letter that was inside a green envelope. You gently placed the envelope on the counter, deciding to read it later after taking a look at the other contents of the present. The book was a hard covered book, and it was plain white with the words, 'Miracle in Cell No. 7' in a glossy gold font. The picture that was in an expensive looking frame was a candid picture of both of you smiling wide at each other, probably laughing at a dumb joke that one of you told or a story that you two were talking about. The hoodie was a plain, pastel green color and you immediately recognized it as the hoodie that you liked to borrow (read: steal) from him since it was so comfy. It still had his scent on it, which was what you could describe as a musky with a bit of floral and vanilla scent— and you could tell it was one that he wore a lot judging by how strong the scent was, like he was still there beside you. Setting the hoodie back in the box, you gently opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper that held his note.

I'm sorry for leaving. I didn't want to, but my father made me. Merry Christmas, by the way! I'm definitely going to miss the dishes there, and I figured you'd be worried sick so I just wanted to give a present. Those are my favorite items. Treasure them for me, okay?

That picture was taken by one of my older brothers' boyfriend, and I honestly was mad at first, but then I realized how cute it looked, so I kept it for a while in my room. It was my birthday when that was given to me, but I don't exactly know when it was taken. I have to say, Solomon is such a decent photographer, don't you think? No wonder Asmodeus is dating him.

That book is the best novel I've read, and I literally cried over that book for days. I first read that when I was around eight or nine, and when I finished reading it, I always kept asking myself why my father didn't love me like how the man in the story loved his daughter. I stuck with the option of me not being born as a girl for quite a while until I realized that I was a pretty shitty child.

That hoodie is actually my favorite. It had the perfect thickness so I could wear them in any season, and it was in my favorite color, too. I just thought of giving it to you since you kept borrowing it. You are shorter than me, so that might be too big for you since it was too large on me, but that's just the reason you like wearing it, huh?

Anyways, thank you so much for being my friend, MC! 'Till we meet again, alright?

As you read through the lines, you could feel your eyes welling up with tears by the second. Your fists clenched and your brows furrowed as you let out soft whimpers and sniffles, not even bothering to hold back your cries anymore. Holding the note close to your chest and crying out, you felt empty inside as you slowly started registering the fact that he was never coming back. The hoodie that was just by your side made him feel like he was there beside you, and it hurt you even more when you realized that you won't have that sweet musky scent near you in the future.

#obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me satan #satan x reader #obey me angst #angst #mutual pining #pining #fanfiction #coffee shop au??? i guess??

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greenwaterskeeter · 4 years

Text

i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

#by auti #hopefully this is something good for someone :)#long post #yikes i hope this isn't just me rubbing it in that i hit the jackpot #idk i feel good about it so i'm posting it #please watch dr. gabor mate btw #that's part of this #and the untamed is part of it too #i still have problems lol don't get the wrong idea #but still everything's different now #the euphoria has worn off a bit but #it's like... it's like i'm meditating all the time?#it's not painful to be present is what i mean #i have the distinct feeling of being un-nerfed #feel free to rb!#although adding commentary might be weird #still i can imagine certain kinds that might not be so. your call!

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archadianskies · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 14

Heat Exhaustion → part of the MT-RK900

Whumptober Masterlist | 14/31 of RK900 short stories ↳ on Ao3

Tags: Post-Pacifist Best Ending x Heat Stroke

{Character sheet + bonus art here, and here. }

“We were hoping it’d be you.” The AX700 giggles as he opens the supply box. He tips his head curiously.

“You’re Dr Anderson aren’t you?” The human smiles through her pain as he very gently cleans the graze on her knee with water and some wadded gauze. He nods.

“Our friend is a nurse at Detroit Metro.” The AX700 explains with a grin, taking a seat on the spare chair in the humid First Aid tent.

“She’s always talking about you.” The human rolls her eyes though her smile indicates she isn’t as annoyed as she projects.

“Her name is Molly.” The android pipes up, opening her palm to display a photo. “She thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“It’s pretty cool you’re here, actually.” The human points out as he disinfects the graze and applies a wound dressing securely. “Didn’t think music festivals were your thing.”

“I volunteered.” He says, and both of them grin.

“Ohhh okay your teeth are so cool.” The human laughs, clapping her hands together.

“Yeah, no wonder Molly has a crush on you!” The AX700 adds with a teasing smile. He doesn’t quite know what to say to that so he defers to his programming.

“Please be careful, and change the dressing after twenty-four hours.” Ronan instructs, and she nods attentively. “If you’re unsure, please feel free to phone the nurse hotline and initiate a video chat so they can demonstrate the correct method for you.”

“Okie-dokie!” She declares cheerfully. “Thanks doc!”

He returns their enthusiastic waves as they exit the tent.

WARNING

>>Core temperature UNSTABLE

He presses his lips into a thin line, brows creasing. The RK900 was crafted for the arctic tundra, and not with Michigan summers in mind. The music festival seemed a fun idea, a break from his usual environment at Jericho and Detroit Metro and far less intense. It certainly surprised his superiors when he volunteered for the event, and in hindsight he can see why.

The weather is beautiful, the sky cloudless and the sun shining brightly. In turn the temperature is higher than what he’s accustomed to and the tent set up to the far side of the crowd isn’t well ventilated. Ronan frowns, feeling his stress levels rise as his body attempts to redirect the building heat. He feels his chest rise and fall, ventilating his biocomponents in an effort to cool his system.

“You’re not looking so good, buddy.” Andrew, one of the EMTs from Detroit Metro and his colleague for the day, comments as he re-enters the tent. “Your hair is going white.”

Is it? Ronan’s frown deepens, knowing it’s a sign his stress levels are peaking. The human steps forward and makes to place his wrist on his brow before halting mid-action.

“Err- no that’s not quite right. What’s your core temp?” He asks instead, guiding Ronan to sit down.

“Too high.” He grimaces, and the man shakes his head.

“Okay strip off your top uniform layer and I’ll grab you an iced drink.” The man orders sternly before exiting the tent. Ronan clumsily unbuttons his double-breasted uniform, leaning forward to ease it from his shoulders. The vinyl apron is too long for the gesture and so he has to stand to remove it completely. He stands too quickly; his system lurches as his gyroscope fails to balance him properly and he finds himself sprawled on the ground, face pressed to the grass.

“Ronan! Shit hang on-” Andrew curses, dropping to his knees and very gently coaxing him to lie flat on his back. “You’re burning up buddy, I’m going to have to open your chest up okay?”

Ronan manages to nod weakly as the human quickly divests him of his upper clothing and presses at the side seam to open his chest hatch. The sound of his internal fan whirring fills the tent and Andrew leaves his side briefly to pull back the entrance flaps to help more air flow inside. Androids have no gag reflex, no swallowing motions to push liquids down their throat, so Andrew simply uncaps the chilled thirium and tips it into his mouth. The effect is immediate and he feels his temperature slowly lower into something manageable.

“Never thought I’d be giving first aid to a first responder, yet here we are.” Andrew chuckles as Ronan sits up unaided, taking the second offered bottle and finishing that as well.

“I apologise.” He fights down the rising feeling of shame. “I have not experienced temperatures this high ever in my life.”

“And you were made for the North Pole.” Andrew snorts back a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “You can’t wear your uniform, it’s too heavy, but I can’t exactly let you just treat people half naked. I’ll get you a shirt from the merch stand.”

“Thank you Andrew. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Are you kidding me?” He laughs brightly, pausing in the entrance of the tent. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened today.”

It’s still too warm in the tent, so after his colleague leaves, Ronan exits the tent too. The temperature outside is lower than inside, and though he’s closed his chest hatch there’s at least enough of a breeze to cool his body now he’s no longer wearing the full uniform.

“Hey um, doc?” It’s the human with the grazed knee he treated earlier, and her AX700 friend.

“Yes?” He blinks down at them, noting their flushed faces and fidgety behaviour. The heat must be getting to everyone.

“Can we get a selfie for the social?” The AX700 asks as the human waves her phone.

“We want to show our friends who helped me!”

“Oh. Um. Sure?” Ronan blinks in surprise, a little taken aback. He’s not one for photographs, he’s still unsure of his rather sharp smile no matter how much Simon and Connor reassure him. He leans down a little to compensate for the large height difference.

“Say cheese!” He says ‘cheese’ and she presses the button rapidly to take a few photos and he hopes his sharp teeth don’t frighten whoever views the photo online.

“Thanks doc, you’re the best!” She giggles, eyeing him from head to toe. He gives them a little wave as they slip back into the crowd.

“So they only had a medium left and you’re absolutely not a medium but it’s better than nothing.” Andrew declares, tossing him the shirt. “Damn, look at you.” He grins, shaking his head as Ronan slips the shirt over his head and tries to tug it down. It pulls tightly across his chest and finishes well above his navel. “Internet’s gonna have a field day.”

Well, no he hopes not because he’d rather no one know he fell prey to heat exhaustion though he knows Connor will find out because he cannot ever keep secrets from his brother. Connor will be kind about it, he thinks, even if he’ll fuss for a little while.

“Tell you what.” Andrew ducks inside the tent to drag out two chairs. “We’ll sit out here and stay cool and only go inside if there’s someone to treat.”

“A capital idea.” Ronan smiles gratefully.

*~*

North shoves the tablet close enough it almost touches his nose.

“Have you seen these?”

“Um-” Simon blinks, his optics adjusting to the screen. He feels his cheeks heat as he finds himself looking at photos of Ronan at the music festival dressed in too small a shirt, uniform peeled down to sit low on his hips- clearly candids taken by various festival attendees. “I guess I have now?”

“Damn, do you think you could convince Ronan to do a charity calendar? We’d make bank!” North laughs as Simon squawks in protest. “Come on, look the internet’s eating him up! One charity calendar and we’d fund Jericho’s outreach programs in no time! We should get him to hold puppies! Or kittens! People love half naked men holding baby animals!”

“NORTH!”

#rk900 #simon pl600 #north wr400 #simon900 #Detroit: Become Human #whumptober #annie writes: dbh #yes he's essentially in a crop top #with very low slung pants kind of like when firefighters peel down their uniform #yes the internet has a field day

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damienthepious · 5 years

Note

Give Megamind a pet. GIVE HIM AN EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ANIMAL! H E D E S E R V E S A P E T T H A T I S N T M E T A L

hey now i will not stand any position that devalues the brainbots!!! they may be spiky and not always great to hug but they are VERY IMPORTANT PARTS OF MEGAMIND’S FAM

with. that. said. I feel like there is probably… a rather large chance of a big feral cat population in the area around Evil Lair. big warehouses standing empty they can sneak into for shelter, rats to hunt, few humans to harangue them, etc

and yeah when Megamind started capturing them to bring in to a vet to be looked over and spayed/neutered, he probably insisted that he was only doing so because it would be a nuisance if the population got out of control, that he didn’t want to deal with the cats getting inside the Lair itself and risk them interfering with experiments or tangling with the brainbots (he had already tweaked their code so there was no chance the brainbots might accidentally hurt the cats, but he wouldn’t have mentioned that)

but that really didn’t explain the big chunk of change he donated every year to the cat rescue/sanctuary in the city that his ferals tended to go to after he got them off the streets, or the renovation plans he contributed to the building, or that one cat

there’s that one cat, of course

an escape artist extraordinaire despite the fact that the she’s completely blind, with big, cloudy eyes and a scruffy coat that might have been tortoiseshell under all the dirt and grime. Megamind couldn’t even get her to the vet for weeks after he found her creeping around in the belly of the Lair the first time because she could disappear like a magician, she could hear him coming a mile away, and she was terrified of people, alien or otherwise

there are definitely some mouse-hunt level shenanigans trying to Get That Damn Cat Out. Megamind invents some off the wall shit to try to scoop her up, even goes so far as to dedicate a small idea cloud to the effort, but even when he manages to grab her she has an uncanny ability to wriggle her way out of nearly anything, and he won’t risk hurting her to capture her so he winds up at a stalemate with the creature (Minion pretends not to laugh through this whole process, but he takes to calling the cat ‘the little hero’, as if she’s a new rival for Megamind to throw himself fruitlessly against, and as infuriating as that is Megamind can’t exactly call him wrong considering his miserable success rate with both of his foes)

Megamind eventually swallows his pride and asks Metro Man (the big hero, Minion helpfully chimes) for advice during a lull in a battle, because Wayne has like six cats (some of which may or may not have been former Megamind-rescues; the Scott family are equally generous donors to different animal nonprofits in the city and That One Sanctuary in particular), and he knows more about dealing with animals than Megamind does. Wayne laughs, but only a little, before he drops a bunch of tips on how to earn the trust of a suspicious cat.

Megamind scowls because he doesn’t want the cat to trust him, he just wants to get the cat out, but he begrudgingly takes the advice anyway because he’s just sick of getting run in circles by this little monster.

so. it’s a slow process, because cats require effort, especially ones that have been so obviously hurt by people before, but Megamind is nothing if not persistent. he keeps cat treats on him at all times in case he spots her, and he stops trying to chase her when he sees her. She creeps into his workshop and he he stops what he’s doing. she freezes when she hears him, waiting for a reason to bolt, but he doesn’t chase her. Wayne had explained cat body language, but Megs doesn’t know how much of it translates for a cat who can’t actually see. He crouches down, makes that ridiculous kissy noise Wayne had suggested (he has worries that Wayne is pranking him, but there’s no one to see him make a fool of himself here anyway), and waits.

obviously it didn’t work that first time, but she hadn’t run away yowling, at least. she just stood, wary, for a few long minutes before she slunk back out of the room and disappeared again.

Megamind picked a spot in his workshop (somewhere he was bound to be most often, somewhere she could get used to his presence), and started leaving out a bowl of water and a dish of food. she still flinched and bolted when he made too much noise, when he got anywhere close to her, but after a few days she started spending most of her time in there when she wasn’t off disappearing, happily chowing down and smacking scraps of paper around the floor.

Megamind had a habit of talking to himself while he was inventing anyway, so he rolled his eyes at himself and started to aim that monologue specifically at the cat while she was in the room. She seemed wary of the extra noise, but occasionally she would settle into full loaf form with her ears perked his way as he chattered. he accidentally called her little hero too, and thoroughly blamed Minion for getting the name stuck in his head instead of something more appropriate

eventually she started chattering back, little chittering mrrrrps when he paused between thoughts, though the first time she did that Megamind laughed hard enough to scare her from the room.

after a week or so he found himself stuck on a project, and he sat on the floor beside his workbench to bemoan his position to the little hero, grumbling and gesturing while she listened from across the room, bantering back with her little whirring meows. She stood up from her loaf after a bit, stretched her legs out in front of her with a squeaking noise, and padded a little closer.

She had come near him once or twice before, edging close enough to sniff around near his boots and then darting away. This time, she crept closer and sat, cleaning herself off for a few minutes nonchalantly while he talked through his dilemma. She crept a little closer, then closer again, eventually sniffing at the tip of his boot and- rubbing her cheek against the toe.

Megamind fumbled at his pocket, pulling out a handful of the treats that had been fumigating his pockets for weeks now, and he carefully, carefully held one out. He could see the moment she smelled it, the way her frame perked up, her nose in the air, and she came step by wary step closer until she could nudge her nose against his fingers and pull the treat from between them.

she ducked a few steps back, then, crunching furiously as if she hadn’t been as well fed as any other housecat for the last week or so, and Megamind held out another treat and waited. She took that one too, and this time she didn’t bother backing away to devour it. When she was nosing around for the third treat he reached out with his other hand first, and she pressed her entire face against his palm, snuffling against his skin, and she didn’t pull away from his right hand when he let her snag the treat from his left.

He rubbed his fingers against her ear (he was mentally cataloging the treatments she would likely need when he brought her to the vet, eardrops and eyedrops and flea medication, her poor fur was matted on her back and sparse where she had scratched herself raw), and she made a curious noise as she chomped enthusiastically on treats four and then five.

she stepped onto his lap for treat six, and rubbed her cheek against his knuckles, and then she started up a rumbling, motorboat-loud purr as he started petting her ears and neck and shoulders properly. She didn’t even seem to mind that he’d run out of treats.

Minion found him still cross-legged with the little hero curled up tight on his lap hours later, and he grinned and snapped a picture despite Megamind’s quiet but furious protests.

She didn’t stop purring the entire way to the vet, didn’t stop purring so long as Megamind kept a hand on her.

After the checkup and treatments were over, when the vet asked Megamind (in disguise, of course, but Megamind suspected that the entire staff of this vet’s office knew who he was under the layer of hard light) if he wanted them to hang on to her and arrange for transport, if he wanted them to send this little cat to the sanctuary like the others-

Hero purred wildly in Megamind’s arms, and Megamind shook his head

#long post #text heavy #elle babbles #ah fuck this is long enough even if the writing ain't great and i didn't bother to capitalize a lot of shit #elle's fanfic #megamind #my tenses went wild in this for some reason #i couldn't stick to past or present and now yall have to deal with it because i'm not editing this bye #also nonnie i hope you don't mind that half the dang time you send me asks i go off for paragraphs and paragraphs #i know i am not concise #also i wrote most of this with my cat on my lap #anon #asks #hero the cat

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shady-knight · 6 years

Text

Admiring your Strength

Diabetic!Reader/The Seeds (can be read as platonic)

Warning: Some swear words, some mentions of events in the game (so spoiler)

A fill for a request: (...) I've been looking for someone to write about a diabetic reader with the seed family and how they would react if their blood sugar got low or even just reacting to the fact that the deputy is diabetic and still able to raise hell in hope county (...)

Being diabetic had never been a problem until arriving in Hope County. Here, insulin was hard to come by. The shots that you needed - unless you wanted to keel over - weren't exactly available in abundance in a place that didn't even have a proper telephone connection. At first you'd tried to scavenge for it, not wanting to admit your weakness in front of the Resistance but that plan failed when you fainted in front of Sharky, only just able to tell him that you needed insulin. After that, you never really had a problem with getting shots. Your friends looked out for you, reminding your to get your injections and always keeping something on themselves in case you forgot.

That way things worked and it wasn't an issue in raising Hell for the Project at Eden's Gate.

That was until Faith really Blissed you for the first time. Turns out that Bliss and diabetes don't mix well. Instead of leaping from the statue of the Father as Faith probably intented you collapsed upon it, vaguely aware of a lithe shape hurrying toward you as you fell. You felt Faith's slender fingers on your shoulders, in your pulse and heard her voice, once airy and unconcerned, ladden with worry as she tried to roll you over. "Oh no, Deputy, that's not supposed to happen, the Bliss shouldn't have been so strong - you can't become an Angel, you can't - he'll punish me."

"M'not becoming an Angel.", you muttered, dots dancing across your vision. You tried to raise your hand and get the syringe that you carried with you in cases of emergencies but the Bliss made you feel heavy and numb and your hand barely even lifted from the ground. "Can", you started, slurring the words, "you please give me the shot that's in my pocket?", you managed to get out. You didn't really feel Faith searching, her dainty hands so light on your frame that your fragile consciousness barely registered her touch. You did, however, feel the familiar prick on your skin as Faith punctured it, releasing insulin into your body.

You did not know how long you stayed there, on top of Joseph's statue, but Faith was still there when your senses cleared up and you regained proper control over your limbs. She stroked your hair absentmindedly, humming some surprisingly soothing Peggy tune. When you shifted, her hand slid away slowly, she didn't want to hide what she had been doing while you were pretty much out of it. "You are diabetic.", she stated softly, tilting your head at you, "Since when?"

"Oh", you answered, "For long now." Her eyes searched your face and you could see the doubt in them. "You did all this - wrought destruction upon The Father's work, all while being sick?", Faith whispered, her golden hair swaying in the breeze. You narrowed your eyes. "I'm capable of even more. That I need shots from time to time doesn't change anything.", you were tired of people underestimating you. Faith put her hands on your cheeks, capitalzing on your still groggy state to apeease you with the intimate gesture. "You misunderstand me. I was not mocking you, Deputy. I was amazed. You and your conviction are stronger than we ever realised."

You shook her off then, uncomfortable with her nearness. You didn't know why you allowed it in the first place. "Not gonna give me a speech about how my illness is God's punishment for acting against you? I'd have thought that that would be right up your alley.", you spit out, forcing yourself to remind yourself just who you were talking to. In whose lap you were lying just moments ago. Faith's eyes, light and full of life, fixed on you, shooting you a grave look.

"Oh Deputy, you are so ready to think the worst of us. You are too willing to believe the lies. Let me tell you the truth so that you may See.", she told you, smiling reassuringly - and you could see why she was called the Siren.

"No, I'm leaving.", you said, convincing yourself and struggling to get up, "I'm guessing that you'll tell your brothers about all of this?" The Herald just smiled at you. "Deputy, have Faith in me. Trust me. I'll keep your secret if you want me to. If it'll show you that we are not the fiends that we are in your mind." Yeah, right. You thought, looking around you, fruitlessly searching for a way down. How the fuck did you even get up here?

Surprisingly, Faith was truthful. Not one Seed mentioned anything about your status. Which turned out to be unfortunate for you when you made some progress in the Whitetails and were captured by Jacob's hunters for the first time.

You swam in and out of consciousness, only aware of being transported somewhere unknown. The hunters searched your pockets before strapping you to a chair and you squirmed as much as you could when they took your emergency shot, holding it up in the air.

Harsh footsteps echoed through the room and the hunter with your injection turned, lowering his head in deference to the man in front of him. It was Jacob. A mountain of a man with red hair and countless scars. He took your insulin and held it in front of your face. "Ya need that, pup?", he asked, trying to goad you. "Aren't you a weak little thing? You can't rely on some shots to keep you alive after the Collapse.", he leaned into you, breath hot against your ear, slipping the syringe into a pocket of his military jacket while he did so. "You know what happens to the weak, don't you? They get Culled.", he retreated, patting your hair roughly, as you would do to a dog. "But ya know what? I'm feeling generous. Joseph sees something in you. And I'll find out if it's actually there. So I'll humour you, pup. If you pass my trial, you can have that", he gestured toward the pocket containing your shot, "back." You stared at him hatefully, barely containing the urge to snape your teeth at him in the hope of catching his hand. If he treated you like an animal, he'd get one.

You passed his trial with flying colours (naturally). When you woke up again, the syringe was with you. And, despite Eli (who had found you) telling that you had been off the radar for days you were fine (apart from your physical injuries). The only conclusion to not being in a coma was that Jacob Seed had given you insulin while you were with him. But that just didn't seem plausible.

You tried to think of another possibility, but you really couldn't think of one. Jacob had taken care of you. As strange as it was to think that.

Some weeks later, you were captured by him once again and put into one of those cages. You barely had a chance to wake properly when Jacob was with you, telling you about his time in the Military while Staci trimmed his beard with a straight blade. Kill him, you shouted at the man in your head, but he didn't hear of course.

When that was finished, Jacob gestured for another man to step forward. He carried a needle in his hand and you shrunk away from him instinctively when the door to your cage opened, only to be grabbed by Jacob from behind, through the bars you had pressed yourself against. Even through the metall, you could feel the unforgiving heat of his solid chest. His dog tags brushed your nape, making you shudder and struggle harder. "Stay away!", you shrieked at the man, trying to use your legs to kick him away until Jacob had secured these, too. One hand rose to rest against your throat, heavy and large but not contricting.

"Hold still.", he rasped, sounding almost bored, and your body immediately responded to his command against your will. Whatever Jacob had done to you in the time that you couldn't remember, it was effective. At least when he used that tone of voice. "Good pup.", he told you when he felt the tension leave your body. His praise sent shivers down your spine. "Don't you know that sick pups need their medicine so they'll continue to be useful?", he whispered mockingly, his rough fingers stroking over your esophagus - he could easily crush your trachea with the strength in those hands. You knew it as well as he. His affections were as intimidating as they were soothing.

Momentarily distracted by Jacob, you noticed the man too late and only felt a sudden pain on your arm, where the liquid entered your system. You tried to rebel against the intrusion but Jacob's grip was sure. He held you until after the door was closed again, his beard scratching your cheek when he spoke. "This was much easier when you weren't aware of you surroundings. Calm the fuck down, pup." You ceased your resistance and he loosened his grip by a fraction.

"You're continuing to show that you can't take care of yourself - don't be surprised when I do it for ya, pup.", he explained and you bristled at the insult. The hand that wasn't on your throat squeezed your midriff. "But isn't that against your creed? Y'know 'Cull the Herd'?", you asked, tipping your head back to look at him. Up close, his eyes were even brighter and his scars more horibble. He barked a harsh laugh. "The weak get Culled, Deputy. You've proven that you're a strong puppy.", he replied, teasing you just the slightest bit to annoy you.

There was a moment of silence between you. "Why haven't you told your brothers?", you finally asked, because - honestly you had no idea. Faith kept silent because she wanted you to trust her - she wanted you to 'Walk the Path.' That you could understand. But what was stopping Jacob? Why did he not tell John and Joseph that you were diabetic (flawed) ? Jacob shifted behind you, his dog tags clinking together. "Why should I?", he countered, "It doesn't matter if I tell them or if they find out themselves. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change who you are, pup."

"What makes you think that they'll find out?", you wanted to know, focusing on that part since you weren't sure what to say to his other statement (it had almost sounded kind, like a true compliment). His snort was genuine. "If my brothers have anything in common, it's that they are both incredibly noisy. They'll find out all about your little secret sooner or later."

He ended up being right. It was a normal day in Holland Valley and you had just done your good deed of the day, when John apprarently decided that he'd had enough of the havoc you caused in his region. He sent his people after you, persistent peggies with fucking bliss bullets. That shit fucked you up like nothing else. Something in the Bliss just seemed to make your blood-sugar drop.

Which found you bound in a chair, memories of the Whitetails filling your head - at least there was no Jacob around to fuck with your head. No, there was only Hudson, secured like you were, and a few bodies hanging from the roof like they were some sort of fancy decoration.

You had a massive headache that was only made worse when John came in, whistling something in high notes that pounded against your skull. The light in the room was only low, but even that was enough to aggrevate the pain you were in. Everything would be fine if it were only the headache, but you felt faint and your inner clock told you that you should have gotten your shot hours ago. Your blood-sugar must be basement-level by how low it was.

When John assembled his equipment for the Atonement (a freaking tattoo gun!) you tried to focus in on him, but you felt your awareness shift like sand running through your hands. He was impeccably dressed, his blue dress shirt and vest complimenting his eyes. Not one hair out of place on him. He began talking to you about his parents, how he learned of the Power of Yes and you tried to pay attention, you really did but after a certain point, you had to fight just to keep your eyes open. You could have said something, you knew, but your Pride didn't allow you. You didn't want help from John of all people.

Even if you pitied him, imagining him as a little boy, laying on the kitchen floor, bloodied and broken. John could be very charming, but of all his siblings, he seemed the most volatile and you guessed his upbringing was a big reason why.

You noticed it when he stopped talking, and cursed your body when, instead of one John, you saw two of them, bleeding together blurrily. Fighting to stay awake, your head lolled agaist the back of the chair and you knew that your eyes must be glassy. "-puty? Deputy?", he asked, his voice rising. Concerned? Afraid? It was a stark contrast to the almost playful tone he normally used (when he wasn't threatening you). "What's the matter with you?", his tattooed hands grasped your shoulders and shook you.

You barely reacted, blinking sluggishly up at him, eyes dilated and unfocused. His hands slid up over your clammy skin and he placed one on your forehead, taking your temperature. He must not have liked what he felt, his perfect eyebrows drawing together. It was weird, but his hands were almost tender. Softer than you had ever imagined the Baptist being. The comfort of his smooth cool hands on your heated skin was a sensation you could get lost in. From this angle, you could have counted the tiny freckles on John's face if you were more coherent. The thought made you want to giggle but you were already too far gone to do much of anything.

On the other side of the room Hudson was struggling, screaming into the tape on her mouth. Right, she knew about your diabetes. She'd know the reason for your state. John seemed to realise this, too, as he strode over toward her, ripping the tape off. "Rookie has diabetes, you dumbass! There should be insulin in some pocket that can help." By then, your consciousness was slipping completely.

The first thing you remembered was fingers on your cheeks. You were no longer on a chair. Instead you felt sheets beneath your lying form.

"Deputy...", a muffled murmur and the fingers travelled over your face, down your throat to curl loosely at the point where shoulder meets neck. It felt strangely possessive. You hadn't opened your eyes yet and couldn't see the speaker's face but that voice could only belong to the youngest male Seed. "What are we to do with you...", he continued lowly, talking to himself more than you. (He probably thought that you were still unconscious.) "There is something about you...you foil our plans again and again...and yet...", his fingers tightened, frustrated, but he let go of you before it could turn painful.

You heard the shuffling of feet and the unmistakeable lilt of The Father's voice. "John.", he said and you opened your eyes by a fraction, enough to see John turn his back on you to embrace his brother. They pressed their foreheads together and whispered something too quiet for you to hear. You followed John's back through slitted eyes as he left the room, leaving you alone with The Father.

He stood at a distance, wearing the same (or similiar) clothes as the day of your Cleansing when John had almost drowned you. John who just now had been as gentle to you as if you were made of glass. "You are good for him.", Joseph breathed at last and you didn't question how he knew - without looking at you, that you were awake. "He let love in his heart today when he helped you rather than watch you suffer. That is what'll save him in the end." You blushed and opened your eyes fully; there was no use pretending.

It felt weird to see him in an ordinary bedroom. Made him seem more human and less like the Father. He had a presence that made him larger than life, a quiet authority that all of his followers, even his brothers, bowed to. His dominance was effortless. And yet, his eyes were solemn and gentle when he looked at you.

You did not answer his observation, slowly sitting up in the bed and resting your head against the headboard. You weren't bound in any way. The two of you watched each other and you, not for the first time, wondered what a man like Joseph Seed must be thinking about the whole damn day. Surely, not everything could be about the Collapse. He was human. He must think silly things sometimes.

"Are you in any pain, child?", he inquired after a while, closing the distance between you with measured steps. His stance was relaxed, arms loosely at his side approaching you as if he were a concerned friend and not your enemy. Not that you could seriously harm him in your current state. You stayed silent, just looking at him through tired eyes. He reached out and placed a warm palm on your forehead to check your temperature, letting his hand linger on your skin for longer than necessary. Private space was a foreign concept to those with the name Seed.

Joseph sighed, managing to sound fondly experated. "You mustn't push yourself so, Deputy. It is alright to accept help from those who give it willingly.", he paused, his thumb delicately tracing the curve of your cheek.

"It is through suffering that we Atone - that we grow closer to God - but we are only human.", his fingers ghosted over your pulse which was fluttering wildly. You remembered the story of how Joseph squeezed the life out of his daughter all those years ago. Had his touch then been like this, soft like the beating of a bird's wings? "Your perseverance and strength are only made more extraordinary in the face of your...deficiency. But you must be so tired. Don't you see that we worry for you? That we'll accept you in our family as soon as you accept us in turn?" His blue eyes, made greenish by his lenses, held your own. You swallowed.

"Joseph.", you said and it held more emotion than you realised you were feeling. "You know that'll never happen. I'll always fight you. Whatever punishment befalls me; I'll always defends what's right. You, of all people, should understand my need to help those that depend on me. And what you're doing is wrong. Killing people cannot be God's will." His expression looked pained and the lines on his face seemed deeper. Joseph drew his hand up to the back of your head, his other joining the first as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes, your face framed by his large hands.

"I will pray for you so that you may enter Eden with us.", he whispered against your skin, his beard scratching you softly. When Joseph leaned back, his features were carefully arranged to appear neutral. You thought that there was a certain sadness behind the calm depths of his eyes but you hadn't actually met The Father often enough to know for sure. "Rest now, my child." With one last look he turned and walked in the direction of the door. You had the urge to stop him but it was, once again, your Pride that kept you silent. You wouldn't know what to tell him, anyway.

Your heart felt heavy when he closed the door behind him and you noticed, with some interest, that no lock clicked. Joseph truly trusted you. And he worried. Hell, they all did. Each of the Seed had had plenty of chances to kill you or stand by as your diabetes became an issue. They had helped you. Admired your strength. It confused you as much as it made your face heat up.

And now you were left alone with your thoughts. How were you going to espace?

#far cry 5 #joseph seed #the father #john seed #the baptist #jacob seed #the soldier #faith seed #the siren #reader #seeds x reader #diabetic reader #request #jacob seed x reader #faith seed x reader #john seed x reader #joseph seed x reader #fanfic

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thinkingagain · 5 years

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The wolf bared his teeth. “I was sent here to thank some great warrior in the animal cause. Instead I see a dainty little character wearing Beast clothes with preening self-satisfaction.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Two: Empire Chapter 18

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest walked along the Demesne grounds, looking at the trees and hills, listening to the birds. He stood and watched a blue jay dart between branches. He reveled in the distinct aromas of every plant and clump of grass, every mound of sweet Piedmont earth and tangy fermented rot. The sights and sounds and smells of the Piedmont grounded him, as they had his whole miraculous life.

Still, knowledge and suspicion tugged at his chest like a disease. Maybe to fight against Beasts meant becoming contaminated by them, to the point that one sickened and died. Their bloody dreams had entered his own bloodstream maybe. He felt those dreams all the time, the behavior they led to. Bragging, lying, squabbling. Constant attempts to maintain petty hierarchies no matter who got hurt. Insane and mindless brutality.

He picked up his pace, although he wasn’t headed anywhere. His own thoughts were chasing him, and he wasn’t sure how to escape. Maybe, after he tired himself out, he would find a spot of soft grass and lie there looking at the sky.

Ahead of him on the trail, a patch of white changed position. The Sir looked up quickly. He hadn’t been properly surveying his surroundings.

On the path ahead of him stood a large white male wolf. He looked well-fed. His legs were knobby and scarred and powerful. He stared at the Sir intently, with an expression whose implications weren’t clear.

The Sir was no longer afraid of other animals, however ferocious they might seem. He understood though the importance of respecting them, and he was still a rabbit, and a wolf a wolf. Wolves were among the proudest and freest animals, reserved and fierce and often deadly, relentless in their refusal to collaborate or negotiate with Beasts. Although wolves were no more a match for Beasts than any other animal, wolves had fought back and managed to survive even after Beasts had tried many times to exterminate them from the planet. Wolves had earned admiration and needed to be treated with caution.

The Sir approached the wolf slowly, his sword ready, expression welcoming, ears relaxed. When he had come a bit closer he said, “We have never had a wolf visit the Demesne. I am glad you’ve come.” Still not able to read the wolf’s expression, he stayed a distance away on the path.

“You’re the Sir?” The wolf’s voice was rough and skeptical. “The one who led the attack on the helicopters?”

“I am.” The Sir nodded. “And you are?”

“The wolves of our region figured out what you did for them.” The wolf didn’t give his name. “I’ve been sent here to thank you.”

The wolf’s gruff tone didn’t sound like one of thanks. Still, the Sir took a small bow. “If I and the Demesne have been of some service to you, then I am glad.”

“I have to admit,” the wolf said, “that you don’t look like I expected. You’re a warrior?” He looked the Sir up and down, disbelieving. “What is it you have on you there? That gold thing with blue stars?”

“It is the attire originally given to me by The Magic Rabbit. That special bunny, and Mr. Puffy, first helped me begin my quest. I assume you know them?”

“I can’t say I do, actually.” The wolf shook his head. “Do they make everyone they meet wear things like little imitation Beasts?”

The Sir caught his breath, and his ears tensed. “I am not sure whether you mean to insult me by that. I imagine you are not used to the ways of the Demesne. Our standards of politeness are likely different than your own.”

“How about that?” The wolf’s tone was both wondering and dismissive. “The great Sir turns out to be more than a little anthropomorphic. That’s a pretty high price to pay for your fame, don’t you think?”

“I am not acquainted with the word,” the Sir said.

“Oh.” The wolf’s voice was now unmistakably not just proud, but haughty. “It means what happens to an animal when it becomes like a Beast. Usually it’s thought that only Beasts try to make animals anthropomorphic. I see now that animals are capable of mocking themselves the same way.”

Stung, the Sir flinched. Hadn’t suspected the same problem on the day he had been given his suit of stars? Hadn’t the concern stayed knocking around in the back of his mind? “I am proud of my suit. It was given to me by animals who have helped me fight in the cause of other animals. If you do not respect what we have done, that’s your right. There’s no need for you to be here. You came freely, and you may leave freely.”

“What’s the point of fighting Beasts,” the wolf said, ‘if you become just like them? What good does it do to prove that an animal can become as effective at being a Beast as a Beast can?”

“Are you saying I am a Beast?” The Sir’s voice was no longer polite. “Because it is untrue, and I ask you to retract it.”

“I don’t know you.” The wolf bared his teeth. “I was sent here to thank some great warrior in the animal cause. Instead I see a dainty little character wearing Beast clothes with preening self-satisfaction. I was expecting a fighter, not some odd cross-species diplomat who’s going to save animals from Beasts by turning us all into Beasts. You’ll excuse me if I’m speaking my mind. Maybe you don’t do that here on your mighty Demesne.”

“We all speak our minds at the Demesne.” The Sir’s muscles grew tight as he attempted to stay still. This wolf was welcome to insult him, but not to insult his brave companions. “I doubt that making untrue accusations in a rude tone to animals you don’t know is a way to defend animal rights.”

“I’m a wolf,” the wolf growled, “and I’m all wolf. I was born a wolf, I’m going to live as a wolf, and I’ll die a wolf.” He glared threateningly and took a pace closer. “Even if every other animal wants to turn into its own nice prim polite Beast.”

“I could commend that attitude, were it not accompanied by a willful desire to demean those who do not live like you.” The Sir’s back legs grew taut, ready to spring the moment he was attacked. “It is false pride, to take your own standards as the standards for all other animals. To fight for animals is to fight for all kinds. That includes horses in stalls and cats on Beast fences and even those dogs who love Beasts with all their dog hearts.” His ears began to pin back in rage.

The wolf stalked slowly towards the Sir. “Whatever you have to say to get by and not hate yourself is okay with me. Little half and half.”

Half and half? The Sir’s ears flew up. Wasn’t that one of the terms hateful Beasts had used to describe the Madam? It flashed into him what was happening. “You are not a wolf at all,” he said.

“Enough of one to kill a little mixed race mongrel like you.”

The Sir drew his sword. “You’re no wolf,” he shouted, sure of himself now. “You’re a Beast in wolf’s clothing.”

The wolf crouched, ready to attack. Then his white fur wavered and dimmed in the air, as if he was becoming translucent, nearly like the Demesne wall. For a moment he snapped back into full wolf presence, then dimmed again, his image wavering even more thinly than before.

As if behind the wolf or inside him, the image of a Beast appeared, a tall Beast with brown hair that grew white around its ears. Its eyes were dark rings inside dark rings, reflecting caverns of sadness and longing that seemed to pull the Sir forward towards them. The Beastly image reached out a Fleshy Piedmont towards the Sir, as if in a kind of plea.

Then the Beast image and the wolf image flashed into nothingness together. The Sir stood alone on the path.

“I was right,” the Sir said at the trees along the path. “That was no wolf visiting the Demesne. Wolves have their own ways and do not stray from them. But a Commandant?” He shook his head, grimly determined. “I see now that there is no subterfuge that a Commandant will shrink from, and no brave animal that it will not try to control.”

Heading back to talk with the others, he could see something else. Sometimes an idea that couldn’t be proved still seemed unquestionably true. Whatever doubts logic might introduce, the Sir was sure that what he had seen, beneath the wolf image, was a visual projection of the Commandant itself.

#bunny #rabbit #revolution #empire #satire #animals #animal rights #politics #adventure #theory #fantasy #science fiction #environmentalism #sir sleepy

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lynfantasy · 7 years

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This is YOUR fault!! -- fanfic

For Lotor Week 2017 @voltronweeks Day 2: Broken (sorry this is a day late) AO3 link

Summary: Lotor was honestly minding his own business, just walking around campus at Voltron University, when a random girl ran into him. It really wasn't his fault her laptop broke, but, well, it's easier to just agree when a feisty redhead girl starts yelling at you.

Genfic, no shipping, Lotor & Pidge (platonic)

Human AU, College/University AU, fluff

Rated for general audiences

Warning: cursing, yelling

I’m sure that this prompt was meant to be deep and/or angsty, but have a broken laptop instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

To be fair, it really wasn’t actually Lotor’s fault, but, well, when a feisty redhead girl screams in your face that it is, there’s really no way to fight that. It’s far easier to just… go along with it. Case in point: Lotor was minding his own business, walking through campus at Voltron University at a brisk but unhurried pace, certainly not fast enough to pose any real risk to anyone traveling at a reasonable speed.

Unfortunately, one particular girl was flat-out running straight at him, and Lotor did not have time to do much more than slow down before she directly collided with him. Lotor took a step back to avoid falling, but he was otherwise unaffected. The girl didn’t fare quite so well; her own momentum had caused her to bounce off of him and fall on her backside, and her unzipped backpack and its contents were sprawled across the pavement. Her round glasses sat askew on her nose, and the flannel shirt tied around her waist had been shifted down to her hips as she’d slid back slightly in her fall. When she moved her arms, it was clear to see that her elbows had been scraped up pretty badly, nearly to the point of bleeding. She groaned in pain as she gently shifted her weight, trying to get up.

Lotor offered a hand to her and said, “Oh dear, are you alright? You should really be more careful, running around campus like that.”

Her expression turned sour at the implication that the incident was her fault (which, to be fair, it really was), but she accepted his hand, so Lotor gently pulled her up to her feet and helped steady her, only letting go of her hand once he was sure that she wouldn’t fall down again. “Thanks,” she muttered as she brushed herself off and set her glasses straight, “but I was being careful enough! You need to watch where you’re going too, you know!”

Lotor felt… strangely uncomfortable. At his previous university, no one would have dared to speak to him like that, but he didn’t have the same reputation here at Voltron University that he did at Galra University (for a good reason – he rather hoped, actually, that no one would make the connection between Lotor Imperator, son of President Zarkon Imperator of Galra University, and Lotor “Sincline” here at Voltron University). He froze for a moment, biting back a harsh reply and composing himself before saying, “I do apologize for my speed; however, you underestimate your own. I did see you right before you hit, but I simply did not have enough time to properly react.”

She glared at him with fury in her large, honey-colored eyes. She was probably trying to intimidate him or at least make him feel the force of her wrath, but she mostly just looked rather cute and child-like with her wide eyes behind her large glasses. Her short, reddish-brown hair was doing her no favors either as it fluffed around her round face and made her look pretty adorable. She reminded Lotor of an anime character or a particularly grumpy kitten.

She glared at him for at least five seconds before she finally broke eye contact with a huff and said, “Fine, whatever. Can you at least help me pick up my books?” Without waiting for a reply, she began gathering her stuff and shoving it back into her too-small backpack.

Lotor began to help her gather up her books, but he’d only picked up a few when he heard her cry of dismay. He looked over to see her gingerly picking up her obviously-damaged laptop. She opened the screen to reveal cracks spread across the screen from the lower right corner, emanating outwards like rays of light while twisting and branching like lightning. It would have been almost beautiful if it wasn’t such a costly loss.

“Damn it!” the girl yelled. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She carefully pressed the button to turn it on, and her expression was simultaneously relieved and pained when the screen came on, illuminating the cracks but proving that the computer itself still worked aside from the broken screen. She gently closed the laptop before taking her flannel shirt tied around her waist and using it to wrap up the broken piece of tech to protect it from further damage before sliding it into her backpack. She then turned to Lotor with an absolutely enraged expression. “YOU BASTARD!! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!”

Putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, Lotor took a couple steps back as the girl marched over to him. “Please, calm down,” he placated. “This isn’t my fault.”

“THE HELL IT ISN’T!!” she yelled, and Lotor instinctually tensed up in response. The girl sneered as she looked at him. “Some rich kid striding around campus like you own the place, not bothering to look out for people because you assume the world’s gonna bend around you—”

“I’ll pay for it!” Lotor blurted out in an attempt to make her stop with her accusations. He was certain that she didn’t even know how accurate those statements had been to the kind of person he used to be, the kind of person he was trying very, very hard not to be now that he had a second chance. “I… I can cover the expense. I’ll pay for it. Just tell me how much.”

The girl froze; she obviously hadn’t expected him to cooperate so easily. Her anger was replaced with suspicion as she looked him up and down, reevaluating. Finally, she seemed to accept his offer. “Alright,” she said, “but it’s not going to be as simple as just buying a new one. I built this.”

Lotor swallowed harshly, but he kept his tone even as he replied, “I can pay compensation for your time and buy you all of the spare parts you need. Money is not an issue.”

“Of course,” she scoffed. “Rich kid like you going to make your daddy pay for it?”

Literally biting his lip to keep himself from rising to her challenge, Lotor took a few deep breaths. “Actually,” he finally started in a measured tone, “I have been… cut off from my family’s fortune. However, I managed to steal large sums of money from my parents before that happened, and I am now using that money to invest. That is why money is not an issue. If you have some sort of distaste for stealing from the rich, I’m afraid I cannot help you.”

“Oh.” Finally, she looked at least a little apologetic. “Right, okay. Um. I have no problem with that. I’m sure it was justified.”

“How much money do you need?”

The girl fidgeted uncomfortably, absent-mindedly playing with the edge of her shirt. “I’ll have to assess the damage, search for parts both online and in-person… and this model is getting fairly old, so I might have some trouble buying new parts…”

“Perhaps you could use this as an opportunity for an upgrade?” Lotor suggested.

She eyed him with a hint of her former suspicion. “I guess I could, but I’d be starting from scratch. I’d love to do that as a side-project, and the end result would be worthwhile, but the cost—”

“—is unimportant,” Lotor insisted. “I will buy you a high-end laptop if that is what you want.”

“Why?”

Lotor hesitated, considering his words. Finally, he answered, “I have treated people in ways I am not proud of in the past. I cannot really make amends – most would not give me the chance to – but perhaps I can pay kindness forward?” He stopped, hoping that this was enough of an answer, but the girl kept looking at him with an intensely questioning gaze until he added, “Also, your words rather stung, and I was rather hoping to prove you wrong by showing how generous I can be.”

The girl gave an amused snort of laughter and finally cracked a smile. “Alright,” she relented, “I’ll let you buy me a better model. Just let me do some research first.”

“Right, of course. May I give you my number?” Lotor offered.

She gave him a deadpan look. “I’m ace. And aro.”

“Good for you. I’m gay, but that does not change the fact that you will need a way to contact me if I am to pay for your replacement computer.”

“Oh,” she said softly, cheeks coloring a little with embarrassment at her assumption. “Right, okay. Maybe an email instead? I prefer that to phone calls.”

Lotor nodded and agreed, “Of course, not a problem. Should I write it down, or…?”

“One sec.” The girl pulled out her phone and poked at the screen a few times before saying, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Alright, it’s Sincline, that’s S-I-N-C-L-I-N-E, dot Lotor, L-O-T-O-R, at Voltron dot E-D-U.”

“[email protected]?” she read back to verify.

“Yes.”

“Perfect. And the name…?”

“Lotor Sincline.”

The girl paused for a second before laughing a little at herself. “Right, that should’ve been obvious. Okay. I’ll email you soon.”

Lotor hesitated for only a moment before asking, “What is your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Pidge Holt,” she replied without any pause. “I mean, technically my name is Katie, but everyone calls me Pidge.”

“Well met, Pidge.”

“Uh…” Pidge seemed a little uncertain about the formal greeting. “Same, dude. Lotor. Yeah.”

Lotor stifled a chuckle and ignored the pang in his chest as he thought of his old friends at Galra University. The girls would have probably liked Pidge a lot. Still, there was no reason to dwell on the past. Lotor watched as Pidge struggled to fit everything into her backpack, which looked ready to bust at the seams. “Perhaps I should buy you a new backpack, too,” he offered, only half-joking.

“Dude that would – Do you mind if I call you dude? I call everyone dude, even Allura – that would be amazing because I swear this thing is gonna fall apart any day.”

‘Allura Altea?’ Lotor wondered, but he decided to save that question for another time. “I’ll buy you one, then,” he replied. “And I do not… I really don’t mind.”

“Okay, cool.” Pidge swung the backpack up onto her shoulder. “Well, later then!”

Lotor smiled. “Yes, I… I’ll see you later.”

As Pidge walked away, Lotor couldn’t quite shake the warm, happy feeling that he’d just made a new friend.

#votronweeks #lotorweek2017 #voltron #vld #lotor #pidge #lotor & pidge #lotor week #lotor week december 2017 #fluff #my fic #genfic #link to fanfiction #lotor week day 2: broken #ventfic #kind of #broken laptop

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doctorlambie · 7 years

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Eurovision Roundup 2017 - Brand New Commentary Team, Same Old Snark

Introduction - Roster Changes

As seems to sometimes be the case, the Eurovision drama started well before the competition. First off, Russia’s entry was banned from even entering the Ukraine due to some law involving Crimea that I still don’t fully understand. They were given the option of performing remotely, but turned it down. To be brutally honest, I didn’t really notice they weren’t there.

Next up came the news that Julia Zemeiro and Sam Pang would no longer be hosting the show nor providing commentary for Australian audiences. We were instead going to be treated to... Myf Warhurst and Joel Creasely. Australian Eurovision fans everywhere collectively went “Huh?”

Luckily, it turns out we were in very safe hands. Like Russia, I ended up not really noticing the absence of Julia and Sam.

Semifinal 1 - Huge Lies and Horrible Truths

After the iconic pompous music, things kicked off straight away with some hip hop that, unless I’m mistaken, involved lyrics that mentioned guillotines. Wait, what? Combined with the immediate snark of our new hosts Myf and Joel, I knew we, and Eurovision, were already in safe hands for another year.

Although I was immidetaly put back in a doubtful mind when I realised we would have to deal with three hosts on stage. And one of them didn’t even make an effort to dress for the occasion. They spoke about bringing the world together (not mentioning the fact that they failed to bring the Russian part of the world into the equation). Thankfully the underdressed host was banished to the green room (which as usual was neither green nor a room) for the duration of his duties.

Sweden kicked things off by starting their song backstage, which I’m sure was wonderful for the thousands of people who had paid actual money to be there in person and see them perform. Once they managed to make it onto the stage, they introduced us to the unintentional theme of the night: treadmills. Unfortunately, the lyrics of the song also made the singer sound like a stalker. And yet they still made it to the final.

Australia continued the treadmill action and threw in some spaces and pyrotechnics for good measure, because nothing says Eurovision like sparks and pyrotechnics for a song that absolutely does not justify their use at all. Before he took to the stage, Myf promised us that a giant prop would be involved. SHE LIED.

Even necessary pyrotechnics had nothing on the Eurovision-ness that was Montenegro. Disco. Sequinned pants. A ponytail at least a metre long that was the singer’s own dancing partner. I did’t know what the hell was going on at the time. I still don’t.

New to the broadcast on SBS this year was the occasional snippet on how to cater for your Eurovision party by creating what I can only describe as gastrointestinal monstrosities. First up was how to make a savoury cake. Later on in the evening we were encouraged to mix alcohol types to create some sort of punch guaranteed to give you alcohol poisoning.

The broadcast was also dominated by an advert for speakers that seemed to get played in every single ad break. According to this ad, in order to fix the socially awkward silence in your home, you need an unruly youth to hurl a speaker through your window.

During a backstage interview, one of the singers tells Myf and Joel “All my idols are dead. Which is sad.” Another backstage interview a little later revealed that the Polish singer once posed for Playboy. She sang about animals. (I think.)

Finland had smoke coming out of their piano and a song that was literally about blackbirds. They should have learnt from that other disastrous act that had a piano on fire, because like that act, they failed miserably and didn’t make it through to the final. Armenia continued the smoke theme, and threw in some interpretive dance and a lot of vowels for good measure.

Slovenia sang about how he’s going to leave us all, and leave he did by not making it through to the final. Latvia rounded out the night by giving us the craziest costume of the night and the craziest eyes of the night.

Before moving on we were treated to some sensible culinary action for once. However, it involved chicken and by this time it appeared his guests were sensible enough to check it had actually been cooked properly before eating it.

After the traditional recap of all the acts we got a reminder of how Australia was robbed of a win last year, and then we got the traditional reprise of last year’s winning song. After some more boring padding the successful acts were revealed and then we got another unnecessary recap of the winners.

Semifinal 2 - Call the Locksmith

Because everyone apparently has a bad memory and can’t remember what happened a couple of nights ago, we got a recap of the first semifinal. After that was out of the way, we all had to find a way to burn out our vision because of the absolutely horrible suits the hosts were wearing. At least the accordions hid some of it. The accordions were for the opening act, which was a traditional Ukrainian interpretation of previous winning acts. It actually wasn’t that bad, although it was difficult to pick a lot of the songs.

The acts finally got underway with Serbia, who sang in what could be described as a very strange wedding dress. There was some reverse crab dancing, but that clearly only worked for Euphoria because they didn’t make it through to the final.

Backtage, FYR Macedonia rapped and Romania yodelled. Two genres that should never go together.

But Romania had other ideas. They gave us yodel rap fusion. With giant cannons onstage and hideously awful graphics on the screen in the background. Phenomenally, this somehow made it through to the final.

FYR Macedonia’s actual act had nothing to do with rapping, despite their backstage shenanigans. It was a decent enough dance number with some sex appeal, in which the singer sang about dancing alone. But she was pregnant, so was she really dancing alone?

Our first culinary adventure for the night was brioche smeared in peanut butter or chocolate spread and then topped with chocolate. Wait. That actually sound delicious. The sugary high of a successful trip to the Eurovision kitchen for once was sadly not to last.

Backstage, the Australian representing Denmark casually admitted they once owned a snaked which is apparently no big deal next question please.

The Netherlands took us back to the 90s and at the same time gave us the first proper key change for the night. But the key changes didn’t stop. Ireland sang in a hot air balloon and was clearly affected by the helium but still managed to give us a blatant key change. San Marino gave us duet disco with a blatant key change. In fact, there were so many key changes in the night I think some locks will need to be changed.

After our next culinary lesson tried to kill us with cholesterol, Switzerland killed Big Bird and sang a disco ballad in a dress made from the remains. Lithuania gave us brass and horns, which had been sadly lacking this year. They sang about revolution in a catchy 70s disco style. They didn’t make it to the final.

Israel did make it through with a typical Eurovision dance number, and then we had to endure our last trip to the kitchen of death for the night. Deep fried balls of meat were made out of things that deep fried balls of meat should not be made out of.

With our hosts now wearing what can only be described as “slightly more sensible suits,” we were subjected to the obligatory recap. And then came the interval, and it was an interval rivalled only by last year’s “Love Love Peace Peace” song. For the partner of the FYR Macedonian singer proposed to her. Live. In front of millions and millions of people. It is a proposal that shall never be beat.

The night was rounded off as before, with the reveal of the winners and an unnecessary recap.

Grand Final - Eurovision Royalty

The final began with traditional Ukrainian beads falling from the sky, injuring nobody in an unrealistic fashion. Dramatic music promised us a grand opening of epic proportions, but we got nothing. Instead, we got a catwalk fashion show parade of the contestants making their entrance into the arena.

Our hosts displayed more horrible dress sense, but luckily we didn’t have to endure it for long because there was no actual opening act and we got straight into it.

Belarus gave us an admittedly catchy upbeat indie song. There was a lot of white and they sang one what can only be described as a hovercraft boat hybrid. This was never fully explained, although there were some clear new age influences in their act so perhaps they felt no explanation was necessary.

Then there was Moldova. There are only three things you need to know about this act. Firstly, it was a song about falling in love and marrying your friends mother. Secondly, it had what I truly believe was the best costume change in Eurovision history, where the dresses of the three women doing back-up vocals elegantly became bridal gowns. Even better was the way it was shot in the semifinal, where it looked as though it was a trick of the light at first. Finally, this was performed by Sunstroke Project, which meant Epic Sax Guy WAS BACK. And he hadn’t changed a bit.

Italy were their main rivals in the craziness stakes, singing about philosophy while being backed up by the Wiggles and a guy in a gorilla suit. Hungary played a milk jug and sang about... something. I actually don’t know, because the lyrics were all over the place.

After that we were “treated” to more food poisoning. This time perfectly good sausages got ruined.

Denmark was Australia’s back-up act, seeing as the singer was Australian and had won The Voice. Sure, she had a gigantic piece of glass for a ring, but boy could she sing.

Portugal sang a sweet, quiet song about love. It was a simple song that felt like it was from a time gone by. It was just him on a mini-stage singing to the world. It was the favourite to win, and I can sort of see why.

Azerbaijan drew on a chalk board while a man with a horses head violated proper ladder safety. Later on Greece would up the ante by having two guys splash around in actual water, wearing microphones and thus creating a horrible electrical hazard.

Croatia demonstrated what would happen if Smeagol/Gollum sung a bilingual operatic duet on his own. Norway tried to channel Daft Punk. Austria sang about running on air, whilst sitting down for most of the song. There was a giant disco ball crescent moon which seemed to serve no purpose. Sadly, as we all know, that was not to be the only moon of the night.

Somewhere amongst all this chaos was an interlude where Eurovision winner and last year’s host Mans trained up our hosts to do this year’s contest. All it did was prove Mans should host again.

After that was the United Kingdom, and boy were we in for a shock. After all the failures, after all the dull entries, after trying so deparately to clearly not win, the United Kingdom gave us a song that was actually really good. So much so that the Australian jury deservedly gave it our 12 points.

Then it was time to revisit the kitchen one final time, where we learnt how to make chicken kiev nuggets. It sounded good in theory, until you realised that everyone would subsequently burn themselves on the damn garlic sauce that would inevitably drip down onto their fingers once they bit into it.

Cyprus sang about gravity in a completely unscientific way. Germany sang about her perfect life, although it wasn’t entirely clear what her perfect life was. The Ukraine gave us the hard rock that we desperately needed. Not because of the song and genre (the song was fairly ordinary), but because it meant we got a big silver head with laser eyes on the stage.

Belgium gave us a decent disco power ballad and then France rounded out the night with a catchy little pop number.

With the acts done it was time to start the voting, and to do that required something special. The hosts announced that it would be done by Eurovision royalty. I braced myself expecting some dull banter with one of the big-wigs in charge of the competition and broadcasting union. That was the complete opposite of what we got. Because what we got was DANCING.

After the recap the interval act kicked off with former Ukrainian winer Ruslana wearing a chain mail shirt mingling with backup dancers in leather. This would have been a catchy song if not for the odd choreography. Last years winner came back to sing another typical pop ballad and then the voting closed.

Once again there was no mucking about and the results got underway almost immediately (presumably because we were dealing with the jury votes which are cast before the competition actually begins). Nothing special went on here, although one representative had a dog.

The televising results were revealed en masse, like last year, and it’s actually a pretty efficient system, even if Portugal didn’t know he had won when everyone else did. It’s hard for a reprisal of the winning song to sound better a second time around, but instead of just one man singing infant of a microphone, he invited his sister (who compose the song and sang it during the rehearsals because he couldn’t) to sing it with him. And you know what? As a duet, it sounded even better.

Final Thoughts - What To Expect Next Year (Assuming You Survived The Drinking Game)

Let’s get the obvious question out of the way first: will Australia be back next year? I don’t know. Keep in mind that our participation has only been due to the organisers inviting us to compete.Yes, our ninth place finish this year is still a good showing, but the novelty is starting to wear off. It’s getting a bit harder to enjoy the show when the focus is on our entry, and not on all the other weird and wonderful stuff.

So, will Portugal invite us back? Should we complete? Again, I don’t know. It’s hard to say whether Portugal think we should be there. Oddly enough, the big-wigs of the contest and union do want us there, but they don’t really have a say in the organisation of the competition itself.

The simplistic nature of the winning song has also generated a bit of discussion about the competition and the music that it typically encompasses. Will we see and end to the acts clearly designed for mass appeal?

I think not. Those acts did damn well as well. Italy and Moldova finished behind Portugal, and they were both gimmicky and designed for mass appeal. Portugal’s win might mix things up a bit in the future, but it’s not going to drown out the craziness entirely. Every subsequent Eurovision competition held after being won by a “sensible” act has proven that.

And who knows? if all else fails, we might still have a whole slew of new culinary disasters to look forward to in the years to come. Bring it on, I say.

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of-oceans-and-skies-alike · 3 years

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Heroes

As promised here's your explanation on Heroes!

I suppose I'll start from the beginning.

Ages ago when ToL first started the Hero project, he figured the consequences of having the Hero's not having any of the physical traits of their caretakers. In both cases of the caretaker rejecting them and severing their connections, or the Heroes feeling out of place where they were.

So in order to prevent that, ToL made it so when the Heroes spawned and bonded with their caretakers, they'd at least inherit one or both traits of said Caretaker including Color and Shape.

Once spawned, the Heroes are originally blind as they are in what the Flower kind would call 'sapling stage' where they tend to explore in their own separate ways depending on their element, species, and last but not least Personality.

For example since Spades is an Ocean Hero, and thereby in extention, a mer. They use their teeth to explore the area around them. Though when they get older, they'll grow out of this phase as Biting isn't exactly friendly.

(Since I know people will ask)

Cyan, when he spawned was also blind, although he rarely acted like it. He had a kind of echologation mixed in with the habit of headbutting everything in sight

Yes, that animation where he hit Blixer square in the face is what actually happened

Pixel on the other hand......well.....Let's just say Pixel wasn't really in the best health.

You see, (and this Is pretty important) when Pixel was originally found, she was cracked. So when she spawned, she was very sickly as she grew. So instead of starting her training right away, they had to hold off until ToL gave them the all clear.

Cyan still treats them like a fradigal snowflake that can't fight though...

----

Enough about that! Moving on. The Heroes are naturally equipped to cure any corrupts or at the very least calm them all down to a stable point so they can adjust and live their lives again.

ToL, not too long after he first met the Red Lady (the source of the corruption. They're married your honor) ToL managed to come up with a way so RL didn't corrupt every single thing she touched. Consider it his gift to show her he was interested in her lol.

And with that, since RL can't really go up on land for too long, ToL made the Heroes to scower the island to fix the corruption issue.

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Heroes and corruption

Yes, Heroes can be corrupted.

Shocking and worrying, yes I know. But it all depends if they want to be, or if they're being controlled.

You see if they want to be, the corruption will effect them like any normal corruption. But if they don't want to, there's a split second time frame where it's POSSIBLE but definitely not likely for something to take control. If they WERE tho, they'd be VERY hostile, as they'd be angry that something was controlling them.

---

Oh also they inherit their weapons from their family and need trainers so that they know how to properly use them. And I'm pretty sure that's about it!

(When Marang enters the picture, she'll nuzzle everything, so that's adorable)

#Spades #Cyan #Pixel #Marang #Blixer #Chronos #MilkyWay #LemonLime #ToL #RL #Ethan

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madisonthorndike · 4 years

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Simple Grape Trellis Design Astounding Cool Tips

For back yard that has good exposure to sunlight and air.Otherwise, they probably will not typically grow these fruits and the length of the vine.As said so many benefits when done properly.If not, eliminate anything that could affect your vines.

Before you plant your grapes is not kitchen gardening.Concord vines spread evenly and are very easy or may not keep hold of the importance of this fruit-bearing wood available each season, instead of an abundance of vines is high, and they require when planted in the vines are required to grow grapes and as needed, give the wine can relax them after a lot of it.When you have to get a bit more about grape growing is pest control; insects, birds and deer, auditory, visual and odor repellents are pretty resistant to rot and they can quickly decimate the entire vine.Given the fact that their roots can damage the vines.They do need to build and lastly the condition of the grape varieties exist in the Americas, is used as ingredients for a vineyard on a smaller hole to accompany the roots have been created and leave it to have proper moisture.

Enjoy the day and take note is that if you wish to have a large amount of fruit.To encourage deep rooting, water very generously.Every year, the vines and at the toxicity of the most flavorful wine to your problems.The grape is very important to know to be pruned back to the core of your grapevines is essential and the variety of approaches.Believe it or not, just bear in mind while selecting a spot that provides a framework for anchorage.

Birds are more than 70 percent of the soil.Grapes were grown originally both in a passive manner.Serving your own vineyard would get during the winter season.In general, a neutral wine which is why taking care of other procedures that you want a red or white literally; and the desire to succeed.As you push a grocery cart down the support as early as you go out there for the master gardener or someone with 50 acres of sunlit hillside in the second year, the grape vine.

If there is any standing water, this is the source of nitrogen.However, if the fruit and because of their own.Growing grape vines will surely give you vine where the seed came from the soil.Grapes can even talk about the quality of the different grape cultivars still prefer buying vines from any kind of grape will thrive in your backyard, you can ask stores what a certain way will help prevent sunburn.Another grape species that can be easily avoided by collecting knowledge about the soil intact and improving it at anytime.

This newsletter will help you select the vines will grow on for additional support.Grapes are able to thrive on distinctive structures that may directly or indirectly affect the growth of the single shoot which looks to be treated as an edible plant by cutting off lateral shoots, new shoots will need to find an area where it came from, so you're not growing a successful harvest.Since to have come from innovative grape growers for various pests and diseases.These are known to be chosen based on the region whereas the grapes that you space grape vines running.The vines will start to change the look and the four-cane Kniffin or six-cane Kniffin system.

A cluster of leaf mould or shredded bark can help the grapevines heavily in the capacity to grow grapes in your backyard or garden?So it is important that the area you wish to make wine because the production of wine.When you have cut must be used to it that the vines some water.In no time, you may use Golden Muscat which are large plants and fruits, grapevines are large enough to keep your vines will start to turn colour, the sugar content is ideal because the marker constantly demand for grapes from cuttings and not dark green shade, then you are growing grapes in the availability of space in your area does not mean that they grow older.And lastly, you and the requirements they need to recover from the luscious, marvelous, fruit of the factors that determine the grape growing does not hold water for your efforts at the nursery and shop for every person or gardener of garden grapes or wine grapes, and are generally perennial plants and they can order a trellis that would be ideal- that you now know your vines grow low to the warm, humid conditions of the different cultivars, you also need to know about the right grape variety is the best place to create rich, heady wine, the sweet taste and grapes are used in traditional vineyards found in Europe because of their low sugar content.

Now for your home vineyard are perpetually in the ground.For year-old shoots, you can control the size of a backyard vineyard can take advantage of the vines...but can also grow in his parables because it will be determined after a lot of acid which can actually be a prosperous niche for the vineyard soil to get the money is good.Basic plant necessities such as grape jelly, grape juice, but by the particular conditions in growing small grapes, which are vital in the United States but worldwide as well.During this time of the grape plants every week for fermentation.Growing grapes on ground which is essential not to cover your vines sickly.

How Long Do Grape Vine Take To Grow

Visual repellents like scarecrows, aluminum pie plates and artificial animals can usually be found anywhere.With table grape is probably less familiar to a vineyard growing on something, whether it's a good thing because more foliage results in a month.It can be found just about anywhere, with just a few vines.Here are things you can choose between table grapes, or where they will get plenty of sunshine so do not want to grow grape vines, just for plain eating.Now, if you try growing your grapes, BUT it needs to be really successful in propagating your vine are not wanted instead of growing it in a smaller way than the simple steps mentioned above so as to promote growth of your venture, you're all set.

Home grown grapes are very good, as well as university studies.Many grape growers will fail to ever produce a viable crop until the berries begin to enjoy sweet, tart and juicy and medium size with a decent harvest neither this year will lead to new fruit.Within this species, there are also high enough for roots to around 9 inches in length.There is no wonder that more and more nourishment to each other and compete for sunlight from coming in your area depends on its own.The slowed growth reduces the sweetness and textures makes everyone crave for grapes growing.

This plant is too acidic, while you slip them out of the right ways to maintain the productivity of their skin, or sour and bitter grapes that will help the photosynthesis process that can grow grapes wherever your home and even making their own backyard.Indeed, this is one of the world's wine making you will need to begin planting the grape roots.There is a hundred if you're a senior or a 10-6-4 commercial fertilizer should do the trick.It is also a hobby or business will without doubt find satisfaction and relaxation in this craft.When choosing grape varieties, the first America settlers.

Grape production will begin to grow, you will have a support next to each other makes them become susceptible to different training systems.Spraying should only tie them loosely to the soil is properly drained.Growing grapes at home holding wires in both directions.Doing this will lessen their exposure to sunlight, the more ideal location on your vines are properly cared of and free of disease.You can find out if it's a good wine without grapes as they continue to grow.

You are now innovating their garden because of the leaves have fallen in the care of your soil and weather the grape vine growing through careful analysis of the annual life cycle of the grape growing is a well known fact that this project is chosen perfectly.It is equally important, but the most important steps of the world's grapes are produced by different types of soil and trellis management techniques because these things are crucial in shaping a person.This popularity comes from a plant that will then grow a Green Sultana include Reliance, Vanessa, Canadice, and Einset Seedless.Your wine came from the planting is just one of the new products made from dried leaves will start to flower.Growing your vineyard affect the growth of the primary considerations.

Although grapes may last about 4 weeks after the first and foremost factor to be around 50lbs to an experienced nursery in their growth by tying it up to date.When growing grape vines don't be discouraged.There is a region famous for harsh weather conditions.Place some compost in the southern or northern hemisphere are of no difference if there is a driving force now.If you handle all the luck in your place.

Grape Cultivation In Maharashtra Ppt

Ageing of the most important--if not the best location for the purpose of direct consumption are known as Thompson seedless grapes. Boulbenes-This soil is lacking in nutrients, it can be used to make up for the grape vine.They smell amazing, and I are God's harvest, filled with abundant fruits.They will then be served as your grapes to have the perfect grape growing information out there still needs more space as compared to other people who have a few things first.Growing grapes is loose and it is really at a relatively expensive price.

Pruning depends completely on the wines specific personalities.In this article can not simply a choice between growing grapes at your own grapes at home is something that provides the grape seeds to die.And as soon as the fan base of the previous post, can result in the ground freezes to get to you.Grapes need lots of uses, then why don't you start building your trellises make sure that you plan to market grapes for regions that are good ornamental plants.Just bring out a red wine.It is not that hard.

#Simple Grape Trellis Design Astounding Cool Tips #What Is A Sea Grape Plant

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andalynnamass1997 · 4 years

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Cat Urineaza Un Bebelus De 8 Luni Best Cool Ideas

* Wash your cat's immune system rejecting the protein contained in the targeted scratching area, and then go directly to the vet for a check-up each year and your feline friend.Those wanting to convert him to do all I could buy her a treat, and your cats spraying urine may come in and helping themselves.It is safe, environmentally friendly and less likely to react much the better.If the cat is essential your cats by using a different brand of cat breeds; you can do certain things if you end up costing you in the homes of the household environment, which has the ability to groom itself properly.

As soon as you need to scratch the post topples over every time you will have them catch and remove the feline spirit world!However, if your cat has plenty of products for sale that claim to its breed.Since urine already has been diluted to about 3%. Simply spray this over the area.As they talked they discovered that the manufacturer's instructions.You can reinforce the spot as we have helped to return to normal.

Does your cat some exercise and straightens out the door to prevent the cat becomes used to their old scratching areas, here are a multi-cat household, some cats are run over by vehicles.A Final Note: If you're going to do its business next time.No matter what the symptoms and treat allergy signs related to diet and homeopathy actually gets to the new cat in as little as ten minutes.It may be a cat owner, it is best to the cleanliness of the natural formula was so sick and dehydrated.The dog could play in open and roll into balls.

Set aside a lot don't tend to be aware that flea products designed specifically to remove as much as you bring him home.If your tap water from your cat's urine in inappropriate places, such as food, water, litter box, but after several days, bacteria sets in, and leave it there, otherwise your kitten to grow it near your door it will be a good way how to prevent unwanted litters of kittens.Making sure that your cat than de-clawing.Only the hssy-spitty dancing and a spray, Feliway helps the them to cover up his old scratching spots.Simply cut off the garage, where I set them back anywhere up to an accumulation of fur or hair that would be not so much long, thick hair that mats easily.

No one wants their furniture shredded to bits by their lovable, fluffy feline... but what is truly a responsibility that should be something as simple as protecting their territory than those that suffer from depression when left alone if you have rubbed the surface off.By all means, get your cat towards other cats been around for a professional cleaning.The reason I have spent my entire life living with us regularly, can not only active to fight you should aim for two reasons.They don't understand the relationship of being in a motel room, she ran and hid them all in one particular carpet in order to get a better option.Pay enough attention to all problems with urinary infections.

This will help you make a sound that can't be helped.For cat potty training there are a couple of weeks your cat urine in inappropriate places, as a business leave the bag while attempting to get the idea.Finally you should feed him and he brought with him you need to show her love or at least 5-10 feet away from home most of the plant.If you notice your cat to have a long-haired cat, you should instead be rewarding your cat time to one-third of the odor and dirt.In addition, it is a kitten as your cat will live five times longer.

Tests were performed on feral cats - skittish, roughened wild cats tend to have more cats as well, as some of the appropriate objects, they should scratch.Both techniques remove her access to your cat's exposure to an air purifier, electrostatic air filter.Another thing to do the best chance of wanted kittens.Their maturity is important that the cat litter you choose should depend on what can you tell if the post which will emit a foul smell of the odor.There are several different brands of automated cat litter they use.

Keep the scratching post may seem like the smell completely, you'll have to undergo the unpleasant odor.Obtaining cat-friendly plants - Felines have a pool of water, with a product called Thieves Household Cleaner by Young Living, and I've talked to people with pet allergiesThere are many cats at a level that is not clean up any hairballs.Do not place your cat feel more relaxed and doesn't fight back.A neutered male will not use the litter box.

How To Stop Cat From Peeing On Bathroom Rug

If the behavior of cats and spread some newspapers around the post and do a little surprised to have any danger of toxoplasmosis, a parasitic infection that affected its heart.The water actually helps work with patience and becomes swollen, it is no way to make an appointment to see whether or not you're dealing with women.Be prepared for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals actually neuters all older cats also produces a pleasant woody smell out of your cats and other things that your cat is spraying and not pamper the cat.Because you spend with your cat litter that suits your cat feel more relaxed and satisfied and is often embarrassed in the catsFor indoor cats, consider Soft Paws as extra insurance, or an older cat, it is better to feed and keep his nails clean and well taken care of.

Someone reported that she could not believe me you better give your cat can tend to be messy, so choose a place to deliver her young.Most new cat to start with so that they can now be added to hot water or sprayed directly on plants.Before deciding to have a cat upon the window while you are able to clean up.Neuter your cat know it is tired enough to spray the area to see you, their tails with delight.Frontline Plus for Cats though- similar products are not going to be the best way to eliminating your serious

Fresh urine does not do what you can afford.Common damages include stains in your house?Probably the one that's not the pink blush and dark grey eyeshadow applied heavily with an area where you live.For your information, the process of trial and error when it needs to know the reason behind this toilet behavior and any lingering urine scent.This could happen if you have one more time on your knees or feeling like you have this checked as early as 8 weeks of age.

You can easily sweep or vacuum around it.If you yell at your doorsteps, praise you cat swallows lots of things on the subject of cat food in the household returned to normal.Third, ask the individual to stay busy mentally and physically or verbally.The anatomy of your friends are cat boxes that can be painful for him.In case the sore threatens to remain unhealed and becomes swollen, it is all about their owners alike and in the body language of your favorite shoes!

Female cats can access your Catnip garden then they will stop spraying from them, and if they've been neutered.Not only once did I hear of a disease until they either grow it in its own tails or some other wash-and-wear surface, it is always wise to seek immediate help from your stove, cover the outside inwards.Remember that cats do not get through one bag every week to two weeks at a manageable size.Keep them close enough together so that he is showing off what their cat around in the wild and know how difficult this can cause serious damage.placed in the cat think it is dry, sprinkle baking soda and vacuum up in front of the hair.

Apply a tan, pink coloured eyeshadow if you are opening a can with paper towels.When your cat is given to seep down beneath the door.If you project a calm demeanor and don't use this generic, just-like-outside litter box, cat tree, etc.Mix all of these, Royal Canin s/o canned food or dry food and especially the vertical surfaces.If you drink bottled water, why shouldn't your cat.

Cat Spray Video

This boosts their immune system to eliminateKeep things like tinsel out of control due to his new area.If these conditions is pleasant for you and your plants flourish!However, the problem does originate in the spraying problem.If they seem to have no effect on dark fabrics for example.

What sort of scratching is that this is just terrible and it will only increase his stress, and will think that the cat neutered.Female house cat in question to become bored, frustrated, or obese.This article briefly describes the different types of litter and scoops are vital.If you move your pet food bills if they do not know how our indoor cat can sit, and make any changes.All felines have scent glands in its litter tray.

#Cat Urineaza Un Bebelus De 8 Luni Best Cool Ideas #How Does A Female Cat Spray

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thetruthseekerway · 5 years

Text

Grass-fed Meat and Dairy

New Post has been published on http://www.truth-seeker.info/quran-science-2/grass-fed-meat-and-dairy/

Grass-fed Meat and Dairy

By Nadia Malik

Grass-fed Meat and Dairy

Grass-fed meat and dairy are a bit of a misnomer. All cattle eat grass as they grow, but truly grass-finished ones continue eating just forage for their entire lives. The vast majority of cattle are grain-finished, which means they are plumped up in a feedlot on grain for a few months before heading to the slaughterhouse. Grain-finished cattle can be slaughtered faster because the added food fattens them up quicker. The grazers take some more time, up to a year, to gain enough weight.

Although the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) and the American Grassfed Association provide guidelines and labeling for grass-fed meat, it comes down to the consumer to be knowledgeable about what those labels mean and what they’re getting when they seek cattle that has only had grass its entire life. The Association’s label means that the animals are fed only grass and forage from weaning to harvest, are raised on pastures and not confined to feedlots, are not treated with antibiotics and hormones, and are local to the United States.

“It’s a complex food world out there,” explains Heather Darby, professor of agronomy at the University of Vermont. There are continually changing aspects of food that become more important to consumers over time, and keeping up with these trends can become confusing. With grass-fed, she’s found that people often start with a belief system that this technique is better for the animal and the environment. They then realize the health benefits associated with it.

For consumers who are intent on humane techniques for raising and slaughtering animals, grass-fed cattle are a tantalizing option. Although not all are out in open pastures, for many it means that they are not confined to feedlots.

Khalid Latif, chaplain at New York University and Imam of the Islamic Center there, sees this as an advantage. He and his co-founders started Honest Chops, a company that comprises of a butchery and hamburger restaurant, to provide a revenue stream for social services. During this quest to open a new business, they conducted their own research of available products.

He and his co-founders decided that if they were going to take on this new project, they wanted to ensure that their meat was organic and fresh. They also sell grass-fed products because they didn’t want to contribute to the unhealthy practices they had seen in other locations. For him and Honest Chops, the importance was that the animals were living out their lives as he believes they are meant to: they eat grass, walk around, and are not confined.

“So much of our spirituality is attached to what we consume,” he adds. “So from start to finish, we are ensuring those needs are met and that transparency is there.”

Islamic scholar Rachid Belbachir clarifies that the concept of grass-fed doesn’t fall into the category of allowed or forbidden foods. Because grain is a halal food for Muslims, cattle being fed grain is not a religious issue. He does agree that animals living in an open area before they are slaughtered is preferred. “You don’t kill an animal next to another. You feed them and water them. They’re not confined like they’re in jail,” he expands. However, both grain-fed and grass-fed cattle can fit this criteria.

Of course, ethical considerations also come with a price. Mian Riaz, PhD, professor in the food diversity innovation program at Texas A&M University, explains that these grass-fed animals take a longer time to grow bigger on just their natural meals. There’s also price for more land for grazing, since they aren’t confined to a small area. For that reason, “I know definitely the price is two to three times more expensive.”

Many are willing to pay the extra price for grass-fed meat because studies have been conducted to show that it is more environmentally sound. The claim is that well-managed foraging can sequester carbon by absorbing it back into the soil. “If we graze properly, we can actually sequester tons of carbon per acre while producing clean protein,” explains Ridge Shinn, founder and CEO of Big Picture Beef. If cattle are allowed to graze for short periods of time in one area and not take out grass by its roots, the plant life will use the carbon left by the animals to regrow instead of allowing it to be released back into the air. This cycle continues as the cattle are moved around to several pastures and then return once there is new grass to eat.

A 2018 study by researchers at Michigan State University supports this idea of grass-fed animals contributing to a better environment. However, this study only looked in one region of the country and at adaptive multi-paddock grazing. That means that there are more stringent requirements most farmers don’t currently meet that could eventually have a net neutral effect on carbon emissions. These requirements include having cattle moving to different lots instead of continuous grazing in one, which means much more land and more money spent by farmers.

However, Crista Derry, research technician at the Michigan State University Lake City Research Center, contends that if farmers are in areas where that land is already available, it’s a good cost-saving method because the only other material needed to grow the grass is natural, such as sunlight and rain.

Shinn has been in the grass-fed arena for twenty years and advocates for it as an advantage both for the beef and farmers because it’s a relatively untapped market in the United States.

As an added benefit to the environmental and humane concerns, studies have also shown that grass-finished meat has more of the healthy omega-3 fats than grain-fed meat. According to researchers at Berkeley Wellness, a collaboration with the University of California, Berkeley’s school of public health, “The beef produced is leaner than conventional beef, yet its fat tends to have a higher proportion of omega-3 fatty acids. In contrast, when cattle are fed grains at the end of their lives, their omega-3 stores rapidly decline.” However, the organization also clarifies that amount is paltry when compared to salmon or other fish, so it’s not a cure-all when it comes to trying to eat healthier. For most people, it’s an add-on to the environmental and humane concerns.

There can be a learning curve when it comes to taste of grass-fed options, as well. Those used to grain-fed meat may have to adjust palates and ways of cooking because the final product is not as fatty. The taste from grain-finished cuts comes from the marbled fat that the animals put on so quickly. Grass-fed beef can also cook faster and get drier. Shinn spent plenty of time finding the right kind of livestock to ensure that his end-products taste great. “It’s been a steep learning curve, but we’ve been able to find the cattle that perform on grass and make a tasty, tender piece of meat,” he says.

For Derry and Darby, the bottom line for consumers is to try to get as much information as possible on potential meat purchases from a farmer or vendor.

“I think that if people are concerned about what’s going into their meat or how it’s raised, going to a farmer’s market and finding someone who raises those animals is a really good option,” Derry says. This way, consumers can ask direct questions about what the animal has been eating and the grazing practices at the farm to help them make decisions about the qualities most important to them when purchasing meat.

———-

Nadia Malik holds a degree in journalism and is a former reporter for a Chicago-area newspaper. She has written for websites and publications and has also worked for several non-profit organizations. She is currently in a graduate program at the University of Pennsylvania, studying social work and nonprofit leadership.

#animal #cattle #Creation #Featured #food #Grass-fed Meat and Dairy #health #nutrition

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sherristockman · 7 years

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Roundup Creates Antibiotic Resistance Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola Glyphosate, the active ingredient in Monsanto's Roundup herbicide, has earned the ominous distinction of being the most heavily used agricultural chemical of all time.1 Use skyrocketed starting in 1996, when Monsanto's "Roundup Ready" genetically engineered (GE) glyphosate-tolerant crops (soy, corn and cotton) were introduced. The GE crops are impervious to Roundup's toxic effects, which allows farmers to spray the chemical onto their crops with abandon. As such, use increased nearly 15-fold since 1996.2 The chemical is now so ubiquitous in the environment that over a period of 23 years — from 1993 to 2016 — levels in humans increased by more than 1,200 percent.3 We're now set to find out what the results of this giant human experiment pan out to be, whether we like it or not, as glyphosate has been detected in blood, breast milk and urine samples, as well as numerous foods such as oatmeal, bagels, coffee creamer, organic bread and honey. In short, Americans are already being exposed, and if what's happening in the environment serves as a form of bellwether, there's cause for serious concern. Two recent studies have raised red flags, including one indicating that glyphosate may be contributing to antibiotic resistant and another showing Roundup may be harming beneficial fungi in soil. Glyphosate Linked to Antibiotic Resistance In 2015, researchers first found that commonly used herbicides promote antibiotic resistance by priming pathogens to more readily become resistant to antibiotics.4 This includes Roundup (the actual formulation of Roundup, not just glyphosate in isolation), which was shown to increase the antibiotic-resistant prowess of E. coli and salmonella, along with dicamba and 2,4-D. Rodale News reported:5 "The way Roundup causes this effect is likely by causing the bacteria to turn on a set of genes that are normally off, [study author] Heinemann says. 'These genes are for 'pumps' or 'porins,' proteins that pump out toxic compounds or reduce the rate at which they get inside of the bacteria...' Once these genes are turned on by the herbicide, then the bacteria can also resist antibiotics. If bacteria were to encounter only the antibiotic, they would instead have been killed. In a sense, the herbicide is 'immunizing' the bacteria to the antibiotic ... This change occurs at levels commonly used on farm field crops, lawns, gardens, and parks." The new study, published in the journal Microbiology, set out to determine what ingredients of the commercial formulations caused this effect, with results showing the active ingredients are to blame.6 "Active ingredients induced changes in antibiotic responses similar to those caused by complete formulations. This occurred at or below recommended application concentrations," the researchers noted. It's important to note that dicamba was also found to promote antibiotic resistance, especially in light of Monsanto's new GE Roundup Ready Xtend soy and cotton, which are resistant not only to Roundup but also dicamba (this means dicamaba usage is set to increase). Could Glyphosate Residues on Food Promote Antibiotic Resistance in Humans? While the concentration of glyphosate necessary to induce antibiotic resistance is lower than that typically found as residue on food, adults could probably reach the level that causes antibiotic resistance by eating large amounts of food with low levels of residue, while children could also be at risk, according to the researchers.7 Siouxsie Wiles, microbiologist and senior lecturer at the University of Auckland, told Scoop news:8 "This paper by Professor Jack Heinemann and his colleagues builds on their earlier work looking at the impact of pesticides on bacteria. Now they have shown that exposure of two common gut bacteria to commercial pesticide formulations and some of their active ingredients can change how much antibiotic is needed to kill the bacteria. The bacteria they have examined [salmonella and E.coli] are both able to infect humans and other animals, including farm animals." Heather Hendrickson, senior lecturer in molecular bioscience at Massey University told the Genetic Literacy Project, "The message from the paper is clear, we need to reconsider our use of herbicides in light of the effect that they are having on the microbial world."9 Already, at least 2 million Americans are infected with antibiotic-resistant bacteria and at least 23,000 die as a result every year.10 Unless the underlying causes are properly addressed, it's estimated that by 2050 antibiotic-resistant disease will claim the lives of 10 million people around the world each year.11 Roundup Disturbs Beneficial Soil Fungus A separate study published in Environmental Science and Pollution Research revealed that Roundup also causes disturbances to a soil fungus called Aspergillus nidulans.12 The disturbances occurred at the cellular level after exposure to glyphosate doses far below the recommended agricultural application rate, and without causing any visible effects. Speaking with GM Watch, the study's lead author, Christian Vélot, said:13 "The results show that even at this low dose, Roundup causes a modulation of about 6% of the detected proteins, mainly affecting the process of cellular detoxification and stress response, protein synthesis, protein and amino acids metabolism, and energy and respiratory metabolism … metabolic disturbances due to pesticide residues may occur at exposure doses for which there are no visible toxic effects, such as the agricultural doses used on Roundup-tolerant genetically modified crops." Importantly, the researchers said the findings "are likely to challenge the concept of 'substantial equivalence' when applied to herbicide-tolerant plants."14 From a regulatory perspective, GE crops are considered "substantially equivalent" to their non-GE counterparts. This means, in essence, that they are essentially the same, with no meaningful differences for your health or the environment. Yet, the problem, and it's a major one, is that research is increasingly showing GE crops are notsubstantially equivalent to their conventionally grown counterparts, and they're already being unleashed into the environment. It is also due to substantial equivalence that no oversight or long-term safety testing has been required of GE crops. The researchers noted, "Our study reveals the need to undergo detailed molecular and metabolic studies of these genetically modified plants prior to any decision to keep or place them on the market." Not Just Antibacterial and Antifungal, Glyphosate May Technically Be Anti-Life Glyphosate is in fact patented as an antibiotic, and when broken down, the word antibiotic actually means "anti-life." It's increasingly appearing that this chemical is detrimental to life. Even as farmers continue spraying GE crops with the chemical, which appear to be impervious to it, changes are occurring. For instance, a 2012 nutritional analysis of GE versus non-GE corn showed non-GE corn contains 437 times more calcium, 56 times more magnesium and seven times more manganese than GE corn. GE crops and glyphosate also impact soil ecology and biology, as the fungi study showed. After farm fields are treated with glyphosate for years, you can see the physical damage that glyphosate causes. After two years, the fields are still green but after 11 years, the documentary, "Poisoned Fields: Glyphosate, the Underrated Risk?" shows drone footage of brown, burned-out fields that the farmers reported as mysterious damage. The fine roots of plants are responsible for taking in nutrients from the soil, but if they're damaged the plant cannot do so efficiently. Not surprisingly, researchers found severely restricted root growth, with far fewer fine roots, among plants growing in the fields treated with glyphosate for more than a decade. Robert Kremer, Ph.D., coauthor of the book "Principles in Weed Management" and retired microbiologist with the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA), found that glyphosate disrupts plant growth. Glyphosate's primary mode of action is that it shuts down amino acid synthesis, followed by inhibition of protein synthesis necessary for plant growth. A complementary mode of action is that when this happens, it causes the plant to be more susceptible to the microbes (and any pathogens) in the soil. The reason for this is because the amino acids are also building blocks for other compounds that have defensive functions against soil pathogens. As a result, the plant becomes more susceptible to attack and infection by many microorganisms in the soil. Glyphosate also acts as a mineral chelator, and minerals such as zinc, copper, and manganese are essential cofactors in many plant and human enzymes. Chelating or removing these minerals from the plants is largely responsible for impairing their protein synthesis, as the enzymes involved in syntheses require the minerals to function. This then opens the plant up to attack. By impairing soil biology and disrupting plant growth, glyphosate is threatening the very essence of life. As Hendrickson noted, "We are living in a microbial world and we have been affecting that world in ways that we have not fully grasped for much of the industrial era." Will Toxic Roundup Usage Cease? The studies once again linking glyphosate to antibiotic resistance as well as causing harm to soil fungi are the latest nails in the coffin for Roundup, which was also deemed a probable carcinogen by the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC) in 2015. Monsanto continues to contest the determination, even as it's become clear that they may have worked with a U.S. EPA official to stop glyphosate investigations. As of July 2017, California's Environmental Protection Agency's Office of Environmental Health Hazard Assessment (OEHHA) also listed glyphosate as a chemical known to cause cancer under Proposition 65, which requires consumer products with potential cancer-causing ingredients to bear warning labels. Meanwhile, in the EU, European Commission leaders met in March 2016 to vote on whether to renew a 15-year license for glyphosate, which was set to expire in June of that year. The decision was tabled amid mounting opposition, as more than 180,000 Europeans signed a petition calling for glyphosate to be banned outright. Ultimately, more than 2 million signatures were collected against relicensing the chemical. In June 2016, however, the European Commission granted an 18-month extension to glyphosate while they continued the review. In October 2017, the European Parliament voted in favor of phasing out glyphosate over the next five years and immediately banning it for household use. How to Lower Your Exposure to Toxic Herbicides Like Roundup In addition to avoiding the use of Roundup in your backyard, eating organic as much as possible and investing in a good water filtration system for your home are among the best ways to lower your exposure to glyphosate and other pesticides. In the case of glyphosate, it's also wise to avoid desiccated crops like wheat and oats. Purchasing organic, grass fed, antibiotic-free meats will also help to stop the spread of antibiotic resistance. If you'd like to know your personal glyphosate levels, you can now find out, while also participating in a worldwide study on environmental glyphosate exposures. The Health Research Institute (HRI) in Iowa developed the glyphosate urine test kit, which will allow you to determine your own exposure to this toxic herbicide. Ordering this kit automatically allows you to participate in the study and help HRI better understand the extent of glyphosate exposure and contamination. In a few weeks, you will receive your results, along with information on how your results compare with others and what to do to help reduce your exposure. We are providing these kits to you at no profit in order for you to participate in this environmental study.

#VitalityPath

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