#easiest approval gain ever

[kpd-zero]

Astarion is a cat person CONFIRMED

[cheralith]

— reroutes. feat. oliver aiku || wc: 2.1k contains: gn!reader, no pronouns used, teacher!reader, dilf!oliver, single parent!oliver, miscommunication, fluff, alcohol consumption a/n: people keep saying that oliver is dilf material usually based off his looks so sure what the hell . let me entertain the thought and feed the masses also a reupload since the og wasn't allowing me to edit for some reason

trying to butter up the president of the parent-teacher association over a candlelit dinner to gain his approval and vote for you as a a worthy candidate incoming principal isn't exactly the easiest task in the world, nor is it your vision of spending a friday evening. but with adult life comes sacrifices, even if it means you'll be missing out on the season premiere of your sitcom.

you've heard rumors about him from other teachers in passing—quite the charmer with a natural flair for leadership, hence why he's been on the board for a few years now, even longer than you've been teaching the second grade at this school. many people on the association look up to him, his approval being worth more than some of the district's, a smile and nod at a suggestion being made being worth more than gold itself.

hence why his vote is the one you need to gain the most—if oliver aiku is in favor of something, then surely it must be good.

the single father to one of your shyer students, he's the complete opposite of her. where rena is quiet, soft-spoken, and spares her words, oliver seems to exude this calm confidence—a calculated rationale weaving into every sentence he says with that baritone, caramel-rich voice of his.

you smile tightly as he rests his cheek on his fist, bright and attentive hues of malachite and amethyst daggering into your stiff figure, that typical smile on his lips that you've seen he gives everyone.

"you know," he starts, tone smooth and sweet. "it's rare that rena has a favorite teacher. but she seems to talk about you a lot these days."

"oh does she?" you laugh, trying to filter out the nervous edge as best as possible. "i'll admit, she's one of my more creative students. she seems to really love arts & crafts."

oliver shares his chuckle with you. "oh i bet. she's always asking me to put up any art she takes home on the fridge. trying to get into it is almost impossible these days with how much stuff is on there—you should see it, really."

he takes a slow sip of his wine, his eyes scanning you for a reaction at his last few words and his eyes lid attentively when you fidget in your spot. oliver uses the swirling ruby in the glass to hide his growing grin.

"ah well," you flicker your gaze toward anything that isn't him, his stare piercing every possible fiber of apprehension within you. "i'm glad. y-you know, for students like rena, they'd really benefit from art walks! i visited one of the charter schools nearby that does them every few months to help cultivate—"

"oh yes, we've been looking to dabble in those as well," oliver says dismissively, ceasing your words in a gentle, clean cut. "maybe one day... if the district increases our budget."

a sharp inhale ensures your composure doesn't falter at the lack of concern. there's many projects you have in mind if you were ever the principal of the school, but you need his approval if they were to ever go through. the voice of the parents mattered just as much as the district's after all.

you fold your hands affirmingly. "well, i've also noticed that we don't have an actual sci—"

"are you doing anything after this?" oliver cuts in again, a smile that's a bit larger now still on his face intently.

you pause, breath hitching. your eyes lift from the food on your table to him. your eyes narrow.

"excuse me?" you ask.

oliver leans back in his seat almost a little too casually. it's only then you notice two of his shirt buttons are undone, exposing a hint of his plated chest. "rena's at her mom's this weekend. i was just wondering if you had any plans after. because if you aren't... i'd love to spend more time with you. somewhere a little more private, perhaps?"

he sends you a knowing wink, a twinkle in his eye that flashes intimately at you. at first, you're confused, trying to understand what he's implying—until...

oh. oh.

"oh—" you choke out. "—my god. excuse me?!"

oliver blinks, smile faltering at your dropped jaw. "what?"

"you thought this was a date?" you rasp.

perplexity takes over his handsome features, oliver tilting his head and sitting up. "sorry, i'm confused. was this dinner not about that?"

"no?!" you're trying your absolute hardest to stay professional, but it's hard to do see when you runover his interactions toward you in your head. the kiss to your knuckles when you met him at the door, the intense eye contact, the unbuttoned shirt... oh, how could you be so stupid?!

you stiffen. "i'm terribly sorry that i gave you the wrong impression. but i only invited you over for dinner so i can discuss what my future plans would be as principal."

oliver is quick to interject himself. "oh. well. i apologize then. i'd be happy to talk more about that matter if you'd like."

the audacity of him to bypass it so casually, as though he wasn't lusting over you for nearly an entire hour when you were trying your absolute best to woo him with your ideas, with both of you ending with nothing but dust in your hands at the end of it all.

you shake your head and start packing your things up, which alerts him.

"no, i'd rather not," you mutter, taking out some wads of cash and pushing it over to him to cover your cost of the food. "i don't think we should proceed this conversation further. at least not for now."

he grabs your hand before you can proceed any further—strong and firm. maybe even desperate, dare you say? "hey, hold on. i swear, i'm really intrigued by your plans. especially the art walk. how 'bout we just finish this dinner and talk things over?"

"i've been trying to do that since we came!" you exasperate loudly, your sharp tone making him flinch a little, especially as you gather some onlookers who glance your way. "i'm sorry, but i'd rather not dabble in a one-sided conversation for another hour."

you plop your phone in your purse and quickly shuffle on your coat, offering him only a disappointed look before you leave, one that pinches an unknown twinge in his chest.

"have a nice evening, mr. aiku," you mutter solemnly, leaving him in the dust.

the next time you see him is the following monday, when he picks up his daughter with the rest of parents.

you're working with another one of your students, introducing him to another book that you think he may like, until you feel a tap on your arm. you excuse yourself from the boy and come face-to-face with rena, who holds up a collaged butterfly she was working on made from spare magazine parts from the crafting table proudly. her eyes that match a familiar two-toned hue sparkle at you.

"look!" she exclaims, her normally-soft voice now replaced with a more voluminous one—a self-curated confidence that you helped bring to life. "i even made it your favorite color. do you like it?"

she lets you hold the collage up to the light, the colors glistening. "oh, it's beautiful, rena!" you praise, your smile being mirrored by hers. "you should put it somewhere you can see it in your house."

she shakes her head, noir pigtails bouncing as she giggles. "it's not for meee..." she sings and then points to her left, where the door is. "daddy said i should give it to you instead!"

your voice suddenly falters, the mention of her father making you look up and suddenly catch the gaze of oliver, who stands idly at your classroom's door. he scratches the back of his neck when you stare at him.

you turn back to her, your eye twitching a bit. "are you sure, sweetheart? i'm sure your father would love to have this instead of me. i think you should keep it somewhere safe."

rena frowns. she seems almost unimpressed.

"he said it himself!" she protests, "it's yours! i'm gonna get my stuff from my cubby now."

abruptly, rena shuffles away without the art piece and to her designated shelf, leaving you. you sigh, standing up and making your way to oliver, who has yet to move his earnest eyes away from you.

"i think this is yours," you murmur and offer rena's piece to him.

oliver shakes his head and pushes your hand back, his larger hand enveloping yours for a slight moment, the leftover desperation from saturday still ghosting his skin.

"she really wants you to have it," he says quietly. "it'd make her happy. really."

you open your mouth to try and reply, but when nothing comes out, you nod and take the piece back, planning to display it somewhere for the children to see. before you can turn on your heel and return your attention back to the boy from before, oliver catches your wrist and shuffles something in your hand.

you turn back and open your palm, seeing the bills you left for him on friday night back into your hand and look up at him.

oliver chews his cheek. "i've got friday's dinner covered. think of it as an apology for um..." he flickers his eyes toward the other parents that wait for their children to finish packing up, not wanting anything to conspire if he said the wrong thing. he leans toward you, his hand shielding his words. "... getting the wrong idea."

he lets out a shaky laugh, trying to break the tension between you and him, though it does so to no avail when you only react with a thick silence. "i mean, i was gonna pay for our dinner regardless, but—"

you hold your hand up, the shake of your head making him stiffen. "it's fine. really. i apologize myself for not making my own intentions clearer."

oliver swallows dryly. he then moves himself out of the classroom and motions you to follow suit to hold a more private conversation, away from the eyes of the children and parents.

"listen," he mutters lowly to you. "again, i'm really sorry for sending mixed signals. i mean this when i say it, but i really do want to talk over your plans as principal one day more sincerely. i should've done it earlier, but..." he lets out a loose laugh, scratching his cheek.

he lifts his gaze to you, the familiarity of eye contact making you squirm.

"... you were just so pretty, i really couldn't help myself," he continues, forcing you to inhale sharply, even though you can detect the sincerity. "rena praises you a lot at home, so when i finally got to meet her favorite teacher formally, i didn't expect you to be so beautiful. and the fact you had asked me to dinner just made me go over my own head."

his buttery words attempt to make you melt, but all they really do is just make your nerves go rigid, your consciousness telling you not to trust them.

you stay quiet, letting him finish.

"i think you'd make a great principal," he says. "and compared to the other contenders, you've definitely got my vote. i'm sure you'd have no problem wooing the others on the board."

your toy with your fingers, pushing the brief spark of happiness over his approval away, not sure if you trust his words as you suspect with a gut-feeling they've been recycled for you.

"i'm glad to hear that. but i'd rather you vote for me because of my mission, not because i'm just another pretty face," you state with a hard look in your eye.

oliver shakes his head, a slight grin lifting on his lips. "that's just another bonus added. i mean it when i said i'm intrigued by your ideas, and i really would love to discuss them over another dinner... if you'd let me?"

he blinks slowly at you, almost fondly, with a slight desperation in his gaze.

your jaw tightens, doubt inking your tongue as you try to find the right words. you merely take a step back when you can't find them, teeth biting your lip. rumors spread fast, and the last thing you need is for people to gossip about the fact you may be privately conspiring with the president of the pta when all you initially wanted to do was just simply persuade him with a presentation of your ideas.

"i don't know," you hesitate. "i'll think about it..."

you try to escape back into your classroom, but oliver grabs your wrist again tenderly and makes you look back at him.

there's that earnestness again in his eyes, the one that really tests your guard and makes you put it down for the moment you capture it.

"you still have my number, right?" he asks quietly. your lips tighten, but you nod, making him sigh out in relief at the fact he hasn't been blocked yet. "okay, good. if you make up your mind, i'm just a text away."

a blank look is his only reply from you, with the mercy of a soft nod, right before you enter back into the classroom and tend back to the leftover children who still wait for their parents to pick them up.

her backpack jangling behind her, rena says a happy goodbye to you as she clutches her father's hand, chiming that she'll see you tomorrow and waving excitedly back at you.

you return it back with an affection on your face, a softness in your eyes at her drastic social improvement as you follow her figure out—all the while not noticing the way that oliver looks at you in the same tender manner.

[wanderloveshater]

Two smart guys with 80’s tech can only do so much. It took them years to make the portal, one that breaks down everytime it activates.

For Commander Peepers? He can make a portal in a quarter of that time that’s stable.

It wouldn’t break down and would be able to control the excess energy that emits from it.

Peepers is the perfect pawn for Bill. Socially outcast with a crippling insecurity about his height, the desire to be praised and hold power over others, painfully lonely with a brilliant mind- he mirrors Ford in this way. I believe one of the WOY crew members emphasized him being different from the watchdogs.

It’s so easy for Bill; what do we have here? A smart guy who builds evil planet-destroying devices? Handling complex machinery?

He’s got a high IQ- misguided by his adoration for his stupid leader. The need for approval is crippling. So what can we do? Our little song and dance-

Bill’s experience speaks for itself. It would take very little effort, no questioning or anything- kind of boring, really.

Oh and Peepers has just been WAITING for someone to realize his true potential!

It’s all the same with Ford. He wants to feel special. The way Peepers would cling, claw, ride the high of the teensy bit of praise Hater gave him months ago…it makes Bill laugh. Such a sucker. A mathematically talented genius with more weaknesses than anyone can count.

So here we are, Peepers wants power. He wants respect. He wants to be seen. Bill promises Peepers a sense of social validation- to be adored- and eventually feared by his peers, and in extension, the galaxy. In return, Bill wants a portal- instead of spinning it as a “gateway for infinite knowledge of the universe” he can actually be a little more truthful. He’ll tell Peepers it can be used as an unstoppable weapon of destruction, better than what Major Threat had, better than what Lord Dominator had. The Peepers empire- I mean- The Hater empire would conquer the galaxy. Bill can come into this plane and they’ll rule everyone, side by side, Muse by Painter.

It’s a win win! Come on Peepers! Take the deal! When was the last time you played chess with someone that was actually smart enough to compete against you?

Infatuation: We saw how easy it was for Ford to be a Cipherholic. For many others to be. Peepers would unfortunately fall for his flattery. Under the assumption that Peepers is in love with Hater- (idolization if you wish) this prevents him from fully going evil, betraying everyone at once, I think.

But Peepers does get a little tired here and there putting up with Hater’s stupidity. Everyone’s stupidity, actually.

But Bill?

Bill has a lot of knowledge of the universe and intelligence.

Peepers would feel so intellectually stimulated by their conversations- likely about quantum theories, astrophysics, how stupid everyone is. There’s one thing Peepers has going on instead of Ford. Ford isn’t directly malicious or evil (besides the revenge fantasies), but Peepers is. He’d find Bill’s sadistic humor to be funnier than Ford ever did. Bill likes that.

Planting these seeds in Peeper’s brain- like the portal- Peepers would reach worship levels faster than Ford.

“I want to feel tall.”

“I’ll make you feel tall.”

Possession: This one is funny to think about, Bill’s unhinged behavior is exponential. He uses his charisma to gain social approval with the watchdogs and Hater’s favor in Peepers’ body. He probably wouldn’t have to complete all the calculations that Ford needed help with- really the possession is just so Peepers is more likable.

Bill’s feelings: Peepers was the easiest pawn to entrance. Bill finds this rather boring. There’s nothing to sink his teeth into- nothing to tear. Just a hollow puppet. He isn’t weird enough for Bill to enjoy, he seems rather logical and put together. Sure he’s shorter than everyone but was he born with any extra features that makes him an anomaly? But he’s certainly the most efficient puppet, so he’s gotta keep that going.

Peepers would also catch Fiddleford and Ford’s mistakes with the portal’s code.

Sort of like, “Oh haha, whoever did this code is so stupid, have they considered their calculations would blow up the entire room?!”

Bill being Bill, filled with bitterness, would agree in tandem at first. “Haha YEAH my last guy wasn’t up to par!”

Before uh, Peepers gets carried away and Bill’s own complicated feelings about Ford arise.

“Seriously, have you seen this derivative answer?! A traffic cone could have done better-”

“That’s enough”

Ford: I don’t have a set story/timeline for these two in mind, but I would like to imagine Ford’s reaction. Being unable to stop the vicious cycle repeat chokes him. Warning Peepers and all, oh don’t fall for it, he’ll betray you, promise you a galaxy, yadda yadda…

But Peepers only hears that last part.

“My own galaxy…?”

“Yes, he’ll make you ‘one of them’ and promise ultimate power with no law or restrictions- everything you could dream of- but DO NOT fall for it!”

Peepers falls for it. Or rather embarasses himself- Bill does not care for Peepers in this way. He’d never offer this unless it was for gain, so what does Peepers do? Throw himself to Bill and the Henchmaniacs- pleading to be a part of them. All that results from that is being laughed out of the room. Doesn’t help that he's the shortest.

Peepers doesn’t fit in with the watchdogs, or even the crazy weirdos/freaks.

He is truly alone.

[phant0mth1ef]

chapter 1: when she smiles, the whole world stops and stares for a while.

“hah?!”

“we’ve already told you a bunch of times, bakugou! she’s the easiest way for you to gain approval ratings, and she’s easy on the eyes! i don’t know how else you want us to explain it to you.” the mans management team stood before him, sitting at a circular table as he stood by the door.

“no way in hell am i ever going to be seen on a poster with some pop princess. find another way!” his voice was naturally gruff, even when he wasn’t trying to come off so harshly, it just happened.

“listen. you need to become the number one hero, she needs to boost her popularity before the japan’s choice awards. her team’s already agreed to this, you’re the only piece we need.” a piece of paper was shoved towards him on the table, your signature sitting above where his was supposed to be.

“hell no.” he turned on his heels, walking to the door before stopping, his hand hovering above the doorknob, his team did have a point. he did need to boost his hero rating before the next hero billboard chart came out.

you were a pop sensation, adored by everyone due to your relatability and your up and coming style of music, additionally, your team put in overtime when it came to getting you onto things like tiktok and instagram.

he sucked his teeth before his hand came back down to his side, his head hung low as he turned back around while mumbling some incoherent speech.

he begrudgingly made his way over to where the paper sat on the table, quickly picking up the pen and signing it. how else was he supposed to boost his career as a freshly launched pro-hero? he was only 19. you were only 19.

“this is only for three months, right?” he groaned internally as his team nodded, happy that he’d signed the agreement.

he’d slammed the door when he left, angry that this is what his career had come to. angry that he was relying on some prissy pop star to skyrocket his rating, even if she had the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

for: @kikz165 :-)

[mynameisalanwake]

DAI play guide

this game is the whole reason i started making play guides for myself. this one is based off of these two reddit comments (link) (link) and my own experience

again, qualifications to make this: - autistic - played DAI 4 times - on console so i have to work really hard to avoid bugs/grind for some of the more annoying stuff

notes from my most recent experience: - i play on the easiest difficulty so Results May Vary - have done both warrior and mage but no rogue - came in at 120 hours (about 90% of ACTUAL base game quests completed and all DLCs) (if you think i will ever 100% this game you're insane) - i was still within 3 levels of enemies in each region so i gained XP like normal - did not go out of my way to do requisitions - no shards/forbidden oasis (ocularum lore is disturbing & i don't like having all those markers on my maps, nothing else at forbidden oasis) - i go back to haven/skyhold every time my inventory fills up - i'll put a specific homebase guide under the cut

prologue

Haven - have all possible convos (aka check if Keep import came in right), do Haven quests, run around the map to collect materials

Hinterlands - clear the crossroads to recruit Mother Gisele, clear whatever you can through to the horse farm. pick up the horse farm quests & go back to Haven

Haven - start watchtower operation, get other war table operations started, unlock Val Royeaux

Val Royeaux - do that whole thing, pick up Sera

pick up Vivienne

Haven - Sera & Viv's convos, more war table if necessary (i try to get as many of the Haven war table ops done before moving on)

Hinterlands - turn in horse master quests, recruit Blackwall, do that half of the Hinterlands map. honestly the only things i usually have left are the dragon and that one fade rift

Haven - Blackwall convos, war tables, inventory

Storm Coast - clear the whole map except that one side that unlocks at level 16, recruit the Iron Bull

Haven - Krem/Iron Bull convos, war tables, inventory

Hinterlands - if you haven't, finish up what you can in the Hinterlands

In Hushed Whispers/Champions of the Just - i usually side with the mages so i just head up to Redcliffe after i finish clearing the Hinterlands. i've only sided with the templars once, but i just avoided Redcliffe completely until after Champions of the Just

Haven - Dorian/Cole convos, get everyone's opinion on new allies/prisoners, war table

Fallow Mire - clear the area

Close the breach - now we're in Skyhold

Skyhold - do literally everything you can possibly do at Skyhold without leaving

Companion quests in unlocked sections of the map

Crestwood - find the Warden contact, clear the area

Exalted Plains - clear the area

Emerald Graves - clear the area

Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts - here's the guide i use! i've gotten 100 court approval every time since i started using this (with a mage elf inquisitor)

Skyhold for new companion convos/cut scenes, turn in quests

More companion quests in unlocked sections of the map

Emprise du Lion - clear the area (imo this one takes the LONGEST)

Western Approach - clear the area, confront the Wardens

Here Lies the Abyss

Cry

Skyhold for new companion convos/cut scenes

Companion quests in unlocked sections of map (you should have everything unlocked at this point)

The Hissing Wastes - clear the area

The Descent - clear the area

Jaws of Hakkon - clear the area (i save this for as close to last as possible because god damn this one is so hard - don't do this at less than level 20)

Skyhold - finish up conversations, companion quests, Skyhold upgrades, what have you

What Pride Had Wrought

Doom Upon All The World

Trespasser

homebase guide (aka what i do at Haven/Skyhold):

war table (sometimes i spend like 2+ hours in Skyhold in one go so this is a vital step)

party inventory (weapons/armor/accessories) - everything not unique goes in "Valuables"

requisition table

turn in research

look to see if i can make any better gear/modifications for my gear

put unique weapons & armor in storage trunk (yeah idk i have a thing about selling named gear)

sell everything in "Valuables"

talk to every single possible character at least once (you can tell by their idle animation if they have a cut scene dialogue or not)

any time i get a war table notif i run back and start a new one (again vital)

[aaronsinferno]

I really hope the show explores not only the current relationship between Tommy and his father, but also through flashbacks the dynamics of how they interacted during Tommy's upbringing. I reallllllly want to see the negative influence that (I’ll call him Thomas Senior) had on Tommy's life, because in my mind, while Thomas senior’s ignorance and prejudice knows no bounds, it’s was his toxic masculinity and blatant homophobia that helped teach Tommy how to suppress who he really was and made it easy for him shrink himself down for his own safety. Even though Tommy ultimately rejects his father's views and grew to be a better person, he still unconsciously internalized some aspects of his father. That along with the unresolved trauma and unmet emotional needs from his childhood led him to repeat patterns of behavior that originated under his father, which then began to resurface during his time at the 118 under Gerard’s leadership. Tommy’s entire relationship with Gerard was an unconscious attempt to "fix" those original wounds by trying to succeed in that relationship where he felt he failed with his father. This is why he spent time with Hen and Chimney reinforcing negative patterns instead of breaking free from them, driven by his desire to gain Gerard’s approval out of fear of rejection or being treated/seen differently just like when he was younger. However, its through Hen and Chimney’s courage, kindness, and an overall display of human decency that gave Tommy the courage to break free from that toxic cycle. He began to see that there was a chance that they would accept and understand him, allowing him to almost be himself around them. And he was right. Chimney, someone he spent time antagonizing, saved his life while the guy whose approval he’s been fighting nonstop for was ready to let him die. Hen’s speech inspired him. It gave him courage and showed him what being strong and brave really looked like. This made his part in helping put in those complaints about Gerard the easiest decision he’s ever made. I don’t know. Something something…. I don’t know

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Perfection lies on the eye of the beholder. Or, in this case, in the hands of an alchemist who dabbled in sculpting.

TW/s: yandere behavior, Albedo is a bit of an impulsive bastard, abstract in writing, nsfw tws includes usage of drugs, odd materials, dollification, toxic relationship. Please dni if you are uncomfortable.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day! If you asked Albedo, he had nothing to gain to be able to celebrate an occasion such as this, but it seems you guys have been together for months. I wonder what he has in store to celebrate this day with you, hm?

Albedo is what many would say is never considered to celebrate Valentine’s Day. If you ever told him what that occasion is like, he would simply tell you the meaning and not what he truly thought about it. After all, that is normal for many to expect, right?

Well, that is what the old him would’ve thought, but he had a lover now. One that understood him, and the person that seemed to look at him like he was someone to be cared for.

To be fair, he and Kendall are what people would say that are polar opposites. He was stoic and hard to approach, but to the likes of Kendall, he simply showed sides of him that he wanted her to see past.

Why? It was simply because the two shared the same ideas and bonded well. Thus, for the alchemist, he thought it simply made sense to do that.

One of those was when they picked up a book that he had seen and he told Kendall if she was aware. Although she wasn’t, the time they spent together deciphering and discussing the contents of the book when they read it together was nice. He had never been interested in reading anything but scholar-approved journals, so picking up something light with her had been an interesting perspective.

There was one thing that he remembered so clearly—in the passage of the book, ‘Challenger Deep’, he remembered asking her how she felt with the narrative being shifted so often. He recalled how many were speaking of how difficult it was to follow them, like they couldn’t figure out what was happening.

Her words caught him by surprise, though.

“It’s not that bad when you think about it. After all, the story is focused on the boy, so if they can’t follow what’s going on, that’s their problem.”

It was then that he realized just how different they were. And Gods, he was absolutely not letting this opportunity go.

So, he began to speak to Kendall more. He began to look into what she thought of certain topics, books, and even past those with art forms as well. But in the midst of it, he found himself feeling more and more attached to her.

It was a strange conundrum. He didn’t understand the feeling at all. It felt… Foreign.

He didn’t like that.

What was stranger yet was that he saw her profile in the MixMatch app. He had been on it for months since he needed more funds for his projects, and it was the easiest way for him as he had been scouted by the bigwigs of Celestia Inc, so to see her in there and the profile she has set up was a curious coincidence.

Now, any sane person would’ve simply ignored her profile and scroll past to the next one, but Albedo is no foolish man. Nay, he wanted to see just how far he can go when he managed to match with Kendall and see how deeper their relationship could become.

With one swipe, they were both matched up by the app. Just like how history led them to be tied together since day one.

After that time, the memories became a tad bit fuzzy for Albedo to remember. It had gone through so many changes: from the time they were finally together, then the small celebrations they hosted, and even their first kiss. It was almost sweet with how Albedo tried to be accommodating and loving to Kendall, but there were times that it was difficult.

Love is difficult for him. But he has his ways to show that to you.

Such a shame that one of them led you to the situation he’s facing right in front of him.

Standing in front of the somewhat finished sculpture he made, he found himself… Strangely at ease. His expression remained unchanged, though, but the sight of it made him internally smile. It was something that he himself can live on proudly.

In a weird way, it made him feel a bit human. It was perfect for him.

Granted, the materials he made was not something he can get right away. It had to be curated, picked by hand, and he needed to make sure it fit his vision. One slight and it would’ve been thrown away, discarded like a child’s toy when they’ve grown old to even touch it anymore.

He was a picky man. He wanted what’s best for him and his lover, and he had dedicated himself for far too long to be able to back down now.

Raising a hand, he gently swiped it across the cheek of his muse, his eyes softening. The feeling of smoothness meeting his bare fingers sent tingles in his spine, tracing it ever so closer to their eyes and lips, and even drifting to their neck. There were a few blemishes, sure, but it was fine—it looked close enough that he was able to modify it to make it look authentic from the naked eye.

He spent 6 months working on the statue before him. His life’s work, he coined as such. He had always wanted to express his feelings to his lover if they’ve stayed for this long, and even then, he wanted to give it to her as his memento for the occasion.

Looking down, he hummed in satisfaction at the placement of the props he curated. He made sure that the statue had the finest of jewelry hung on their body, its hair and clothing pristine as he first found it, and he gave extra care to spots he saw that weren't perfect.

The dust that was left from his smashed previous attempts and frustrations are all but swept away, hidden from anyone that dares to enter his workshop.

Grabbing the cloth next to him, he lifted it up and tossed it on top of the statue’s head, gently letting it flutter down to the ground. He didn’t want anyone to see it, and he made sure that every spot of that statue he made was covered to a T.

“... It’s perfect,” he whispered, looking down at the time and the pendant. “Now, I need to give this to her tomorrow morning. I must get some rest.”

He has a busy day tomorrow, after all.

Heading up to Kendall’s apartment, Albedo caught sight of his lover. Although there were bandages wrapped around her head and other parts of her body, he gently tapped on the door; a small greeting for her to hear, not one that may be too disruptive for someone who’s in recovery.

As her head turned and the two saw each other, the sculptor smiled.

“Greetings. Still trying to decipher the book, are you, Kendall?”

The latter blinked, the cogs obviously turning before he saw her nod with a gentle smile. “Yes, I wanted to know why I’m drawn to this book,” she answered him, making him hum and walk closer to her. Pulling up a seat, he glanced at the cover and the contents to see what she was reading.

“Challenger Deep… I see. This book can be quite tricky to understand,” he comments, his hand reaching to the cover. “However, you can try and read it later. I have something to show you at my house, Kendall.”

Closing the book, the blonde looked at his partner, smiling ever so gently with how she lit up.

It was different. So different from the reaction she’d give him, and it sometimes made him feel like he was dreaming. Alas, he isn’t, and he knew that to be the case for him and Kendall. After all, he made sure it wouldn’t come to light.

“Let’s go. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Grabbing her hand, he grabbed the book and placed it on the table, keeping it closed. Leading his lover out of the living room, he helped her get her shoes and make some bits of conversation between them. He didn’t wish to make the mood tense, but it seems that she’s beaten him to it.

Albedo is never this talkative to anyone. To him, speaking takes a lot of his energy, and he is never fond of the idea. Though, with the one he’s with, he never found the idea revolting nor exhausting; she reminded him of Sucrose, minus that she’s a lot more outspoken with her thoughts to the alchemist.

It was an amusing sight: a man who refused to speak more than he had to, paired with a woman who loved to speak to those she found close with.

Their journey down to his apartment was as quick as he remembered. He kept a tight grip of Kendall as they went out and about, telling her that she must stay close, lest someone would see her and bring either of them trouble.

He knew why it must be done. People may still be out to look for her, and he didn’t want to risk anything to happen to his beloved.

Still, the real surprise came when he managed to reach his home. Pulling out the keys, he pushed one in and turned it, unlocking the door and letting her enter right inside his abode. Though, he found himself looking back for a moment.

It was strange. He swore he felt eyes pierce through him, but…

…

It must be nothing, he thought. No one would ever dare to follow me.

Turning back around, he entered the house, the floorboards creaking under his feet as he closed the door shut. He could already hear noises from inside his house, but he paid it no heed as he simply walked through to find where she ended up.

The soft thudding of boot meeting the floor echoed, and even the soft creaks didn’t deter him as much as it had used to.

He was used to it. It was his only home, after all.

“Albedo?” he heard a voice faintly call out. “Albedo, what is this?”

Ah, she’s found it.

“I’m right here,” he answered, entering his studio and watching as she stood in front of the now uncovered statue. The light began to shine and give the features more clarity, laying bare to what the two can see without a moment to lose.

The statue before the two had parts of themselves that had been sculpted by hand and blade, the skin color being the same as the one Kendall had with a few stitches and blemishes that Albedo wasn’t bothering himself too much to clean up. The attire had been commissioned by someone he knew, as it accentuated the statue’s body from head to toe.

The eyes remained closed as the hair was cut to her hairstyle, but there were some obvious patches and discoloration that shows its original color, which was something different entirely.

The face is what caught her by surprise, however. She had expected it to look like it was the same as hers, or even a human being’s face, but it was just patched with makeup and rough cuts. It was far too eerie to even put it to words, but Kendall can only look at it and then turn her gaze to Albedo.

He made this, did he? So why did this happen? Why is it made to look like an abhorrent abomination?

“I assume you like it, do you?” he asked her, his face still holding that same smile as he went closer to her. “You must be. After all, I’ve wasted blood, sweat, and tears over making this for you.”

It seems that’s all the answers they need from him.

“Don’t you think it’s perfect, too?”

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil’s race to approve the end of the Amazon: The BR-319 highway needs a new environmental impact assessment (commentary)

Brazil’s race to approve “reconstruction” of Highway BR-319 (Manaus-Porto Velho) is gaining ever more momentum, with President Lula declaring his support for the project on the 10th September, a moment that could not be more ironic amid the country’s dramatic fire crisis, argues researcher Philip M. Fearnside in this commentary.

The impact of BR-319 extends far beyond the roadside strip to which the EIA and licensing discussion is limited. Planned side roads such as AM-366 would open the vast rainforest area west of the highway to the entry of deforesters, loggers and others. The rainforest in this area is also at risk of collapse from climate change, and this risk would be further increased by the deforestation and forest degradation provoked by the planned roads linked to BR-319. Loss of this forest would be catastrophic both for global climate and for water supply to other parts of Brazil, including São Paulo.

The area at risk is both the most critical and the easiest to avoid deforesting. All that needs to be done is to not build the highways that would provide access, while in other parts of Amazonia stopping deforestation requires changing the behavior of hundreds of thousands of individual actors. A new EIA is needed that includes all areas receiving impacts from BR-319 in the northern and western parts of Brazilian Amazonia. The EIA cannot be a mere bureaucratic step after which the project is automatically approved – the rational decision is to reject the project, writes Fearnside.

Continue reading.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #150

Today is my 150th letter to you. It is the same as the number of my favorite Pokémon. So I am going to talk about him today. His name is Mewtwo, and he's a lot like you, actually:

So… I should probably tell you that I've seen only the version of his story that was localized to my country. So that is the version of the story I will tell.

Mewtwo was created in a laboratory. He was created from what was thought to be the most powerful Pokémon at the time - a Pokémon called Mew, which was thought to be extinct (there is precisely one Mew left in the world as far as I know, kinda like the Cetra). I'll explain…

Some guy named Giovanni was the leader of Team Rocket, which is a crime gang that is hellbent on generating profit in whatever ways they can, no matter who or what gets exploited or destroyed in the process; they're kinda like Shinra in some ways in that Team Rocket has huge armies and crazy resources and is interested in gathering up wealth and power. The easiest way to gain power in this world is by controlling powerful Pokémon, so Giovanni sought to create an enhanced living replica of Mew in order to have all the power and all the profit. Y'know… kiiiind of the same exact reason Shinra sought to create you.

So Mewtwo was created using a fossil that was found of Mew. It was spliced with human DNA (some other guy named Blaine, if I'm not mistaken). And just like that, Mewtwo was created and left to grow in a vat; he didn't even get to be born of a womb in the same way as you. Unlike you, too, he doesn't even have parents; there is literally nothing else like him in the world he inhabits; there never has been, and there never will be. Here is a video that details his childhood; I'll warn you, though - it's very sad:

…When Mewtwo woke up for the first time, he was already an adult. He realized almost immediately that he was created to be a test subject and a slave, and once he had that realization, instead of simply saying "no fuck you" and leaving (this is ALWAYS an option; you don't have to hurt people to get away from them), he became so angry that he used his powers to raze the laboratory he was created in to the ground, slaughtering everyone inside without so much as a second thought; all that was left was ashes and flames. In a lot of ways, this very closely mirrors what happened to you in Nibelheim.

…And, like you, after that, he was taken in by someone who cared nothing for who he was or for his desire to be loved and to have a sense of belonging. In Mewtwo's case, it was Giovanni. Giovanni lured Mewtwo into his control under the premise that they would work together as partners. Mewtwo would learn how to better wield his abilities in Giovanni's presence, but the way he learned was by doing Giovanni's bidding and destroying or exploiting anything Giovanni saw fit. Eventually, when Mewtwo realized that Giovanni saw him as nothing more than a commodity to be harnessed instead of a living, breathing thing to be loved and understood, Mewtwo lost his shit again and escaped, razing the building to the ground, and presumably killing everyone inside in the process. So... Mewtwo did a Nibelheim not once, but TWICE:

..."I was not born of Pokémon, I was created, and my creators have used and betrayed me, so... I stand alone." I can imagine that you might find such sentiments deeply relatable.

From there, Mewtwo quite understandably held a deep grudge against all humans. So he created a storm that would wipe out not only all humans, but also any Pokémon who ever befriended and worked with a human; Mewtwo had never met a human who was kind, and so he had assumed that all humans were dangerous, selfish creatures that manipulated Pokémon into being their slaves, and that all Pokémon who willingly worked with humans were pathetic, vile things that debased themselves for the sake of human approval.

…Coming from abuse, myself, I can understand why Mewtwo would assume that all humans are cruel and capricious things. I can understand why you might have thought similarly in the past, and might still think similarly now. I used to believe the same things, and for all the pain I went through, I bore a deep grudge against other people for a very long time. I thought that if I preemptively stereotyped all humans as things that would hurt me and pushed them away by hurting them before they had an opportunity to do the same to me, I would be able to protect myself and keep myself safe.

But that's not how it works; that's NEVER how it works, because when we apply broad, sweeping generalizations to large swaths of people, we end up dehumanizing them in the process, and in so doing, we become no better than those who have hurt us. I've made a lot of mistakes in the past; I only know better now because I got help, and I still have a lot more work to do in order to make up for who I was before. I'll never be "done". I'll never be "healed". But the work required to strive towards these things is still worth doing.

To create his idea of a "perfect" world, Mewtwo rebuilt the laboratory he destroyed, lured some very powerful trainers there, and then stole their Pokémon for the purpose of cloning them. He then pitted the cloned Pokémon against the originals, as though their manner of birth meant something about their worth (spoiler alert: their manner of creation doesn't mean a goddamn thing, because they're ALL living creatures, worthy of love, acceptance, and a place in the world). Mew showed up to try to talk some sense into Mewtwo, trying to tell him that it doesn't matter how anyone is born and that what counts is the contents of their heart.

But Mewtwo wasn't able to hear the wisdom of what Mew was saying; his eyes were too clouded over by the pain from the losses he experienced as a child, the abuse he went through as an adult, and likely the shame he felt about how he came into being. So he fought Mew with the intention of killing Mew. But their battle was creating terrible shockwaves of energy that were hurting all of the Pokémon on the battlefield that Mewtwo pitted against one another. Realizing that the Pokémon on the battlefield would die if Mewtwo and Mew didn't stop fighting RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, a brave and kind boy named Ash sacrificed his own life by putting himself between Mew and Mewtwo as they fought in an effort to get them to stop, even though there was no way of knowing whether or not it would work.

Mewtwo was stunned. He didn't know that humans were capable of such selflessness, and in that instant, it shifted his entire worldview. Mewtwo realized the terrible mistake he had made, and he turned himself around:

His most profound quote is, "I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." I hope that this is one that you'll take to heart.

Here, this is his summary of his story in his own words:

Mewtwo, Mew, and all of the rest of the cloned Pokémon went to a place called Mt. Quena; it's a beautiful mountain with a lake in the middle of it with waters that have miraculous healing powers, and a system of caves in which to take shelter. Mewtwo lived peacefully there for a while, still working through his shame about being a cloned Pokémon instead of one that was more typically born, but Giovanni had been looking for him, and ended up finding him.

When Giovanni found Mewtwo, he immediately mobilized troops to go capture him and to set up a new Team Rocket base, polluting the water in the process. Giovanni demanded that Mewtwo walk into a machine that was designed to break his will via the application of torture, and he threatened to hurt the cloned Pokémon if Mewtwo did not comply, so Mewtwo did as Giovanni said. But Mewtwo's will did not break, and so he was nearly tortured to death before Ash showed up to break the machine. Ash then carried Mewtwo (yes, all 269lb/122kg of him) to the healing lake and threw him in the water, saving his life.

Mewtwo asks why Ash is helping him, since he is a cloned Pokémon that supposedly doesn't belong in this world. And in this one, Ash says something profound: you don't need a reason to help somebody; when you see someone in trouble, you just help them and that's all there is to it. Mewtwo then wonders if Ash is unique amongst humans, to which Ash replies that every human is unique. And when the waters of the lake heal Mewtwo just as they do to any Pokémon or person, Mewtwo is finally able to accept that he belongs to this world, regardless of the circumstances of his birth.

Mewtwo emerges from the waters reinvigorated, and from there, he uses his powers to wipe the memories of his existence from the mind of every Team Rocket member, including Giovanni. He also moves the lake inside the cave system of the mountain, so that no one will ever be able to exploit or pollute it again. Team Rocket leaves, and Mewtwo now gets to have a peaceful life in a beautiful place, surrounded by other living things who love him very, very much. Witness this, and engrave these words into your heart:

Sephiroth, you do not belong to anyone. You do not belong to Shinra. You do not belong to Jenova. You do not belong to the Gi or to the Cetra. You belong to you, and you alone. And you belong in this world. Sephiroth... can you imagine what it would be like if you used your amazing power to defend those people who are good to you and who are willing to try to give you new life?

Good people are everywhere, and they're not going to use you like a commodity or abuse you until you do what they say. Good people will hold you accountable when you do some stupid shit that hurts yourself or other people, though, because that's what the people who love you are supposed to do. They're supposed to challenge you to do better without exploiting you or breaking you down in the process. The world is full of people like this - people who can love and accept you as-is while encouraging you to become your best and most favorite self; all you have to do is open your eyes. All you have to do is try.

You are not much different from Mewtwo. You are not much different from me. If Mewtwo gets to be restored and have a happy, wholesome, joyful, love-filled life even after years of trauma, abuse, and mistakes, then so do you. If I get to be restored and have a happy, wholesome, joyful, love-filled life even after years of trauma, abuse, and mistakes, then so do you. All it takes is a willingness to learn and grow, and you'll never, EVER get me to believe that I am more mentally flexible and emotionally adaptable than you; it's never gonna happen, because I know in my bones that you are better and more capable than me in all the ways that matter, so don't even try to convince me otherwise; my faith in you is unshakable, so it's not gonna work.

Sephiroth. Please don't think you don't have anywhere to go or anywhere to belong. Mewtwo is literally the only one of his kind, and he still belongs with the Pokémon he calls family. They are cloned Pokémon, but all the same, they are not at all different from the other wild Pokémon that also inhabit Mt. Quena. A cloned Lapras can live with regular Lapras just the same. There isn't another Mewtwo. There isn't another Pokémon in the world that possesses the same level of power that Mewtwo has. But he still belongs. And he can still have a good life. He's not alone. You're not that different from him. So please try. Please?

That's all I've got for today. Please think about the story I told you. Heck, if your position at the Edge of Creation allows you to talk to Mewtwo somehow, please do; he's smart and wise and he knows a lot because he's learned much during the course of his life and has grown much as a result of reflecting earnestly upon all the mistakes he's made. He can help you.

I love you. Please stay safe, okay? I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[artilaz]

if Tristan were a companion what would his romance route be like?

Okay I can't really say anything about what kinda quests or w/e you'd have to do to romance him, but I can definitely tell you about what he's like and how he'd act and react to your decisions. So here goes:

Tristan is a genuinely good guy without a hint of a mean streak in him. He's kind, compassionate, and willing to give almost everyone a chance, and displaying similar traits is the easiest way to gain approval with him. Helping others without the expectation of a reward, supporting those around you, and showing mercy to those who wronged you are high up on his list, whereas any kind of cruelty will earn you a stern talking to from him, and if you overdo it, it'll cause him to leave your party.

He also wears his heart on his sleeve, so if he likes you, he'll let you know. He'll never flirt with you if he doesn't mean it at least a little seriously, and he doesn't like it when people do it to others. A little mutual play flirt is one thing, but getting someone's hopes up just to crush them by telling them you weren't actually serious is something he's not going to react kindly to.

He's got a huge romantic streak, so his romance has the potential to be absolutely sickly sweet. Ever since he was a kid, he's (semi-)secretly dreamed of being swept off his feet by his very own fairytale prince. His previous lover, of whom he'd thought he was The One, however, left him in a very sudden and cruel way, and now his broken heart is giving him a hard time truly letting someone into it again. He's an optomistic person at the same time though, so he wants to believe there might still be a chance for love for him out there.

Tristan is a ride or die kind of guy, so if you actually manage to win his heart, he'll be fully invested in you. One of his love languages is engaging in things you enjoy, to the point where he'll literally learn new skills for you, even if he's never been into them before the relationship, because he thrives off of your happiness.

If you're in a relationship with him, he'll actually let you get away with an array of less than kind behaviour, since his trauma has made his sense of self-worth suffer severely, making him believe he wasn't good enough to stick with. There are, however, a few things that'll make him break up with you immediately, including but not limited to cheating, or him finding out you were only using him, even if you did develop genuine feelings later on.

[studyonline2023]

Top Benefits of Taking a Gold Loan in 2025 in Dubai

In 2025, financial flexibility is more important than ever, especially in a fast-paced city like Dubai. Whether it’s for managing unexpected expenses, expanding a business, or funding personal goals, many residents are turning to secure loan options that offer quick approvals and low interest. One of the most preferred choices is a gold loan in Dubai.

Gold loans allow individuals to borrow money by pledging their gold jewelry or coins as collateral. They are gaining popularity due to their simplicity, speed, and practicality. Here are the top benefits of gold loan services in Dubai in 2025.

1. Instant Access to Cash

One of the biggest advantages of a gold loan in Dubai is how quickly you can access funds. Unlike traditional loans that often require a lengthy application and approval process, gold loans are processed almost immediately. Since the loan is secured with your gold, lenders are usually willing to disburse the money on the same day.

2. Minimal Documentation

If you’re tired of dealing with endless paperwork, a gold loan is one of the easiest secure loan options to apply for. You typically only need basic identity and address proof along with your gold items. This makes it an excellent choice for self-employed individuals, homemakers, or anyone with limited financial documentation.

3. No Credit Score Worries

A major benefit of gold loan offerings is that your credit history is not the primary factor in determining your eligibility. Since your gold acts as security, even those with a low or no credit score can apply. This makes gold loans in Dubai especially useful for people who may not qualify for unsecured loans.

4. Lower Interest Rates

In 2025, interest rates for gold loans remain highly competitive. Compared to personal loans or credit card advances, gold loans often come with significantly lower interest rates. This makes repayment easier and more affordable over time.

5. Flexible Repayment Options

Gold loans offer flexible repayment options tailored to your financial situation. You can choose from monthly installments, interest-only payments, or even bullet repayment at the end of the term. This flexibility ensures that you’re never overwhelmed by rigid payment schedules.

6. High Loan Amount Based on Gold Value

Thanks to rising gold prices, your ornaments can fetch a higher loan value in 2025. The amount you receive depends on the purity and weight of the gold pledged. Many lenders in Dubai offer up to 75% of the gold’s current market value, making it a reliable way to raise a substantial sum quickly.

7. Safety and Transparency

When you apply for a gold loan in Dubai, your gold is stored securely by the lender. You also receive full transparency on loan terms, interest rates, and repayment obligations, ensuring peace of mind throughout the loan tenure.

Final Thoughts

A gold loan in Dubai is one of the smartest ways to access funds quickly without selling your assets. In 2025, these secure loan options are more accessible, reliable, and flexible than ever before. With minimal requirements and quick approvals, the benefits of gold loan services make them an ideal choice for anyone in need of instant financial support.

[woodenb2b]

[ad_1] In these days's fast moving and ever-evolving business soil, the call for for environment friendly and cost-effective equipment is upper than ever. From petite companies to massive companies, the wish to keep aggressive and meet manufacturing targets has resulted in a surge within the approval for impaired equipment auctions. Historically, corporations taking a look to improve their apparatus or increase their manufacturing functions would flip to shopping for untouched equipment immediately from producers. Alternatively, this steadily comes with a hefty ticket and is usually a important funding for companies of all sizes. That is the place impaired equipment auctions come into play games, providing a extra reasonably priced and sensible spare for corporations taking a look to obtain top quality apparatus. From public sale ban to manufacturing layout, those auctions have revolutionized the best way companies manner equipment procurement. By means of offering a platform for consumers and dealers to secured, those auctions trade in a large space of equipment at aggressive costs. Whether or not it's CNC machines, forklifts, or business robots, there's a immense number of apparatus to be had at those auctions, making it more straightforward for companies to search out the easiest gadget to fulfill their explicit wishes. One of the vital key benefits of shopping for impaired equipment at auctions is the price financial savings. With costs steadily considerably not up to purchasing untouched, companies can gain the most effective apparatus at a fragment of the price. This now not most effective is helping corporations get monetary savings but additionally lets them put money into alternative fields in their operations, similar to analysis and building or worker coaching. Moreover, impaired equipment auctions trade in a extra sustainable and environmentally pleasant possibility for companies. By means of giving untouched era to pre-owned apparatus, corporations can drop their carbon footprint and give a contribution to a extra round financial system. This now not most effective advantages the condition but additionally is helping companies create a good popularity as accountable and eco-conscious organizations. Moreover, impaired equipment auctions lend a degree enjoying farmland for companies of all sizes. Whether or not you're a petite startup or a massive company, those auctions trade in equivalent alternatives to get right of entry to top quality equipment at aggressive costs. This democratization of the equipment marketplace has leveled the enjoying farmland for companies, permitting them to compete on a world scale with out breaking the warehouse. In conclusion, from public sale ban to manufacturing layout, impaired equipment auctions are converting the sport for companies taking a look to improve their apparatus and make stronger their manufacturing functions. By means of providing reasonably priced, sustainable, and out there choices for equipment procurement, those auctions have change into a significance useful resource for corporations of all sizes. As the commercial soil continues to adapt, impaired equipment auctions will no doubt play games a the most important position in shaping the age of producing and manufacturing. [ad_2]

[isocertificationinsaudiarabiaa]

Why is ISO 22000 Certification crucial for Saudi food manufacturers?

ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia,Food manufacturing corporations in Saudi Arabia increasingly more apprehend the want to gather ISO 22000 Certification in the dynamic meals market, the place client protection and fantastic are vital. This internationally diagnosed well known establishment established the groundwork for a wonderful meals protection administration system, ensuring that organisations adhere to the easiest cleanliness, safety, and high-quality requirements all through their operations.

ISO 22000 Certification: What You Need to Know

The International Organization for Standardization (ISO) hooked up ISO 22000, an internationally diagnosed standard. This Certification, designed specially for the meals sector, offers a systematic strategy to managing meals security risks, permitting groups to detect, regulate, and mitigate possible risks at each stage of the meals provide chain.

Importance of ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia:

Global Acceptance and Market Access:

Obtaining ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia opens doorways to international markets. In a technology of world trade, having a diagnosed and mentioned Certification boosts the legitimacy of a meals manufacturing company. This can lead to greater potentialities for export and collaboration with distant places partners, which can assist the association thrive.

Increased Consumer Trust:

Consumers are turning into greater choices about the security and pleasantness of their food. ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia communicates to clients that an employer is serious about assuring the safety and integrity of its products. This improved purchaser faith can lead to expanded manufacturer loyalty, beneficial word-of-mouth, and an aggressive gain in the market.

Legal Obligation:

The meals commercial enterprise is difficult to stringent legal guidelines and requirements to guard public fitness and safety. The ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia helps Saudi meals manufacturing corporations attain these regulatory standards. Companies may additionally show compliance with neighbourhood and world meals protection guidelines by way of aligning with international nice practices, decreasing the danger of felony difficulties and guaranteeing a smoother regulatory approval process.

Management of Risk:

ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia stresses the significance of taking a proactive method to detecting and controlling manageable dangers in the meals furnish chain. Companies can decrease the danger of infection or different risks by having a robust meals security administration gadget that systematically assesses and addresses risks. This now not solely protects customers however additionally the company's reputation.

Efficiency of Operations:

The adoption of ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia encourages meal producers to streamline their methods and use great practices. As a result, operational effectiveness is enhanced, waste is decreased, and useful resource use is optimised. As a result, groups can expand general manufacturing and profitability whilst keeping the biggest meals security standards.

Integration of the Supply Chain:

The ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia encourages collaboration and conversation all through the meals furnish chain. Suppliers, manufacturers, and distributors might also collaborate seamlessly to make certain meals security and quality. This built-in method now not solely promotes stakeholder relationships however additionally helps the general resilience of the meals furnish chain.

Continuous Enhancement:

ISO 22000 highlights the necessity of oftentimes monitoring, reviewing and adjusting processes. This dedication to non-stop enhancement allows agencies to keep away from developing dangers and difficulties in the ever-changing meals industry. It develops a revolutionary and adaptable culture, positioning corporations for long-term success.

Why select Factocert for ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia?

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Conclusion:

Acquiring ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia is extra than simply a compliance checkbox; it is a strategic funding in the future of meals manufacturing firms. It represents a dedication to quality, client safety, and global quality practices. As the meals area evolves, adopting ISO 22000 requirements turns into an increasingly more essential step for companies in search of to thrive in an aggressive world market whilst keeping the well-being of their customers.For More records go to : ISO 22000 Certification in Saudi Arabia

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[perditus]

     It had been a rare moment where the Dellamorte heir had found himself without Illario as a partner, instead assigned one from De Riva. Viago’s House. An important assignment he had taken on behalf of Caterina, the culling of traitors that had handicapped the Crows at the worst time. Like a dead branch, slowly poisoning the tree until it was methodically snipped away. Unfortunately, the Antaam had capitalized on the chaos anyways. Vengeance had certainly been sweet however, even if Lucanis had not particularly been interested himself. 

     Who he was back then…the Crow did feel a modicum of shame for his own behavior. At least in how dismissive he felt he was, wary of a partner whose abilities resembled those he was trained to assassinate. “ I don’t know about that. I think I would have gotten a lot more pushback otherwise ” he chuckles, his request particularly…unorthodox when it came to other Crows. Caterina had not approved of his decision back then either, though she could do little about it after the fact. 

     A softer smile slips onto his face, acknowledging the sentimental words that leave the other Crow. The familiarity was pleasant, something he could adjust to in the wake of his year at the Ossuary. It helped him as much as it seemed pleasing to her as far as he could tell from her words. Spite’s whispers in the back of his mind more or less confirm his suspicions, the demon all too willing to invade another’s emotional space. Lucanis kept it to himself though, preferring to respect Amatista. 

          “ Considering the amount of magic it must have taken to hold back the water in the Ossuary, I wouldn’t be too surprised” he comments, navigating the vegetation as gracefully as he can, avoiding the leaves as much as possible. Quiet was his modus operandi even now, obscuring his presence from the enemy to afford them whatever advantage they could. Peeking down at the ruins, his brows furrow, gauging the distance to the surface. 

          “ It is difficult to work without dossiers. Even Caterina operates with a surplus of information before assigning contracts. Anyone would find this task arduous ” Lucanis eyes the vines creeping along the walls, reaching down to grip one carefully in his gloved hand. He tests the strength by tugging it carefully, contemplating. 

          “ We. Have. Wings ” Spite growls in the back of his mind, cognizant of the crow’s hesitation even now. It was certainly the easiest option, though Lucanis still felt a tad reluctant. His apprehension doesn’t last long though, not with a contract to complete. His comfort did not really matter right now, especially if it offered them even the slightest advantage in the coming battle. Rising to his feet, he lets Spite’s wings pop out of his back, eyes glowing an eerie purple hue. Though his irises were visible in the center, indicating the assassin was in control. 

          “ I’ll scope out the initial area ” his words are tinged with demonic energy, crackling and corrupted ever so slightly. Spite doesn’t speak through him but influences his voice anyways, seeping his power into whatever he can through the wall between him and Lucanis. A desperate attempt to gain some modicum of control. Lucanis rarely afforded him much. “ but if you hear something I would appreciate the back up. Like old times ” 

     He cracks another smile, his gaze sentimental and fond before he suddenly jumps from the cliff edge. His wings snap out quickly, slowing the assassin’s fall considerably until he lands at the bottom. The force of it causes the slightest cracking sound from beneath his feet, leaves blown around slightly. A bit dramatic, but it suited the Dellamorte heir. Lucanis had considered offering her a hand, but opted against doing so. 

     Instead he ventures forward into the ruins, observing the way the foliage digs into the cracks between stone, forgotten over the ages. Noticing the small flowers that have bloomed even obscured, nature’s vigilance unmatched even by time. It’s difficult to differentiate the wild magic from what could be Venatori activity, his senses simply not enough. Spite seems to notice though, attentive as the assassin cross through the entrance way into the forgotten temple. 

     The slightest hint of red catches his eye first, bright and vibrant in a way that suggested it was fresh. He kneels down, gaze following a small trail that seems to wander from the initial spot. It crosses over tree limbs, little varying droplets eventually leading towards another entranceway. Perhaps a staircase? The temple must go further. 

          “ There may be some here still ” Lucanis calls out as he rises to his feet, brow furrowed.

it wasn’t painful — just distracting. she notes the distinction he makes, & found herself wondering idly if spite felt the same way about magic. either way, it was a relief when lucanis didn’t press her for a more solid explanation. her attempt to fabricate a reason for her experience with wild magic had been clumsy at best, but invoking bellara’s name was enough. given the veil jumper’s talent for stumbling headfirst into danger, amatista was starting to suspect that “bellara” was simply becoming shorthand for something went horribly wrong. no one questioned it anymore.

“ i’ve adjusted to you before, ” she elbowed him lightly in the ribs. her touch was careful, mindful of the dried mud still clinging to his clothes. so much for keeping up appearances. “ remember house kortez ? i would've handled that job very differently if i were alone. ”

not that anyone would’ve trusted her to take that job solo. then again, perhaps it had been caterina’s foresight to pair a representative of house de riva with her favored heir. the standardized poisons used among the antaam were still deadly enough to warrant an expert. if viago was the foremost authority on poisons, then amatista was surely a close second — her knowledge forged by his teachings & honed further by magic. her ability to infuse toxins into her magic made her uniquely suited for that kind of work, & her tolerance was far above the average crow.

a small advantage. perhaps the only real one she had offered on that mission. better her than him if poison was in the mix.

the corner of her mouth twitched, threatened by his observations. as always, he saw too much. she turned her head slightly, gaze shifting toward the trees as her arms folded across her chest. her shoulders rose & fell in a tense shrug. “ she was busy with an artifact, ” she replied flatly. “ figured as long as we don’t walk into a fade bubble, we’ll be fine. ”

not that she’d know one if she saw it. she grimaced inwardly. maker willing, spite could feel the ripples in the veil before they wandered straight into one.

her laugh came soft, light. living water was one way to call it. wild magic had always felt … sentient, somehow. she’d heard of mages who had managed to tame it, bend it to their will. she wasn’t one of them. her ability to sense the currents in the air was sensitivity, not mastery. it was how she’d spotted the fractures that clung to morrigan’s silhouette — but she'd been distracted when wild magic surged & sent lucanis sprawling into the mud.

“ & well, ” she puffed her cheeks slightly, letting the air pop between her lips as she shifted her expression into something between sheepish & sincere. “ it’s just … nice. to work with you again. ”

it was more than nice, truth be told. she’d tried to move on after learning what had happened to him. the news had left a bitter taste in her mouth. for days, then weeks, & eventually months, she’d woken hoping it was all some cruel fabrication. but the silence had stretched too long. like everyone else who’d known, she accepted that lucanis dellamorte was gone.

to learn otherwise — well. saying she’d been happy to see him again would be a criminal understatement. but there was no time for sentiment now. they had a mission to finish.

“ could be, but if the veil jumpers gave us the tip, i’m not betting on it being nothing. ” she trusted them. trusted bellara, even if not the rest. “ i don’t think wild magic & the venatori go hand-in-hand. i’ve never heard of it conjuring illusions of them, at least. ”

she vaulted over a gnarled root, pushing aside thick foliage with a flick of her wrist. the trees broke just ahead into a clearing, where the land fell away into a sharp drop. she stepped to the edge of the cliff, peering down at the ruins nestled in the forest floor below, half-swallowed by creeping vines & time.

“ even if there’s no one down there now, ” she huffed, “ they’ll have left something behind. i’ll call that a win, considering how many losses we’ve racked up lately. ”

her voice dropped a note, contemplative. “ anything is better than nothing, especially when every plan we’ve followed so far has been made in the moment. & none of those moments are leading in being great. ”

[knickynoo]

I love your headcanons!

Do you have any headcanons for George (in any of the timelines)?

Hello! Sorry for the delayed response. I'm going to stick with George in the "improved" timeline (post-parking lot punch) because I like imagining all the ways he became a better version of himself after Marty's intervention.

• For a while, George is still kind of shy and awkward and unsure of himself. He knows he's just unlocked some kind of hidden potential and strength within himself, but he isn't really sure what to do with it. Lorraine helps a lot in those following months, encouraging him to keep coming out of his shell.

• George learns A LOT about how two-faced people can be and who he can trust in the aftermath of the Biff Punch. People who used to bully him incessantly all of a sudden want to be his buddy and act like they always thought he was cool. Thankfully, he sees through that. And many of his classmates who were kind to him even when others considered him a loser, continue to be kind, and he gains many new friends.

• George holds his head up a little higher whenever he passes Biff in the halls. Biff actively avoids any eye contact with him.

• Soon after George and Lorraine start officially dating, he allows her to take a look at some of his writing. She's the first person to ever read his stuff, and he sits there anxiously watching her face as she does it. Lorraine loves getting a peek into George's creative inner-world, and her approval gives him an even bigger boost in his abilities. She quickly becomes a trusted confidant for his ongoing ideas.

• Oh! Also, George is definitely the type to leave sweet, heartfelt notes for Lorraine. Expressing his feelings through writing is still the easiest route for him for a while, so he utilizes his talents as a way to let her know how much he cares. He slips notes into her backpack or locker when they're at school, and once they're married, he leaves them all over the house for her. It's an ongoing thing that endures even after he's able to comfortably verbally express his feelings.

[Side note: This is one of post-trilogy Marty's favorite things about his parents. Dave and Linda tend to roll their eyes whenever they catch George placing a note somewhere or see Lorraine smiling as she reads one, but Marty can't even feign annoyance or embarrassment like his siblings. The warm, fuzzy feelings simply overtake him at witnessing the little tradition, especially considering all his memories of his miserable parents in the original timeline. The kid can't help it; he loves seeing his mom and dad in love.]

• George is a very involved father. He guides, teaches--and is even stern at times--and he loves his kids and is so invested in raising them to be well-adjusted and confident. And, obviously, he tells the best bedtime stories. He absolutely crafts individual, personalized stories for each of his children and puts it in a little book for them.

• I have a very solidly planted headcanon that George and Doc are good friends in the Lone Pine Timeline. They share a lot of interests and can talk for hours about science, complex theories, and other nerd stuff (George goes to Doc for questions relating to more technical aspects of his science-fiction plots). The two bounce off of each other well, and nobody else can keep up with their conversations when they get going.

Thanks for the ask!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Lying (Next) To You (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for violence + language Warnings: Blood-drinking/general vampiric shenanigans Summary: There is no goal other than escape. You want out of this castle, no matter what you have to do, no matter the consequences. At first, the solution seems to lie with one of the very women you want to get away from. But what happens when you find yourself genuinely caring for her? Length: 5,934 words

Merely surviving had never been your intention. From day one in this foul place, this unholy castle, you had strived to escape. No matter what, you refused to allow such dismal grounds to be your grave. But leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking out an unlocked door. It required manipulation, agility, and the willingness to screw over anyone who got in your way. Even those who you would have once called friends, or the closest thing you had to that among the servants. Was that something you were willing to do? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt in your mind. Someday, somehow, regardless of what it took, you’d get out and never look back. For now, though, all you can do is scheme…

—————————

Three targets, each incredibly difficult to get your hands on, each presenting their own unique challenges. Which would be easiest to charm? You were still debating that answer.

First was Bela: The eldest, most responsible, forced to be the “role model” for her sisters. A bookworm (a trait the two of you shared) who spent a fair amount of her freetime in the library. While not overtly cruel, she was still rather violent, especially in cases where she felt her family had been insulted. However, there were whispers that she had a secret weakness: Anxiety. None had caught her in the open throes of an attack and lived to tell the tale. But she had been overheard, more than once, quiet cries or shaking breaths. Trying to talk to her during one of these occasions could lead to gaining her affection- if you managed to do what no other had been capable of doing, that is.

Second was Daniela: The youngest, most excitable, eager to please and desperate to be pleased. Easily interacted with more maidens than either of her sisters, though not always in a good way. Getting her attention could mean getting pulled into her room in the middle of the night, for some “fun”, or it could mean getting drained of all of your blood. Sometimes she did one after the other. Like Bela, she was a bookworm, though she preferred romance novels as opposed to her older sister’s educational texts. As for her weakness? To you, Daniela seemed to be the definition of “undiagnosed ADHD”. Less exploitable for sympathy than her sister, but possibly useful in helping you trick her. At the end of the day, the largest concern with her was her inconsistent behavior, her tendency to flip moods at the drop of a hat- and a drop of the hat with her could feel a helluva lot like a drop of an axe (onto your neck).

Then came the third… the one you didn’t think was worth the risk, whatsoever: Cassandra. Middle child and acting just like it, she was hungry for her mother’s approval, attention, and respect most of all. Bloodthirsty as could be, with a mean streak eight kilometers wide, the truest monster you had ever met. Even her fondness for the arts manifested in malevolent ways. Supposedly, she painted in blood, and made sculptures from the bones of her victims, displayed proudly in her room as trophies. What could you possibly do to earn her affection? What could you ever be to her, other than a plaything or mid-afternoon snack?... Nothing, you assumed, and so you figured you might as well remove her from your list. Somehow you’d have to make do with one of her sisters. As for which one?... You decided to let fate decide, and go for whomever you found yourself with an opportunity to court.

—————————

Free time was a rare commodity in Castle Dimitrescu. While every servant did technically get one day off every week, it wasn’t uncommon to end up helping with something unexpected, even if one tried to hide away in the private quarters. For you, it was an opportune time to try and get closer to your targets. So far three weeks had passed since your “decision” to focus on Bela and Daniela, without a single interaction with either of them. Still, hope held fast in your chest, as you made haste towards the library. On this free day you intended to read as much as possible. ‘Twas a two-pronged goal: First, you would increase your chances of running into one of your preferred employers. Secondly, you could possibly learn something through what content you consumed, perhaps to be utilized in later conversations.

Or such was the hope. In truth, you did not make it to the library, nor even anywhere close. A quarter of the way there you were interrupted by an ever-dreaded noise; buzzing echoed throughout the hallway, first far off, but getting closer with every second. There was a particular ferocity to the vibrations that you knew meant danger was approaching. According to the other maidens, this was a distinction that everyone learned over time, assuming that they survived long enough. The smart thing would have been to duck away into an adjacent room in the hopes that whatever sister it was would ignore you. But your endgame weighed heavy on your mind, then forced your feet to the floor. For better or worse, you would be in the woman’s path, ready for whatever she may ask of you.

“You-” a voice snarled, as a hooded figure phased out of the swarm and into your vision. Her head was held high, eyes narrowed as they stared down at you, a snarl twisting her lips. Of course it was her. Cassandra Dimitrescu. The one daughter you didn’t want to encounter. Inside, part of you writhes in self deprecation, feeling as if you should have known better. How often did the other two buzz about so angrily?... Well, certainly a fair bit, but nowhere near as much as Cassandra. Fuck, you think, I’m probably doomed. “I’m hungry. Come here real quick,” Cassandra demands, beckoning you towards her with a single finger. In another life you would have blushed bright red at the sight. A life where she wasn’t a vampiric monster, that is.

Nonetheless, you are quick to obey, masking your anxiety as best as you can. Doing so gets much harder once your gaze meets Cassandra’s, and you see her lick her lips before smirking at you. As soon as you’re within her reach, she’s surging forward, grabbing you by your shoulders, then pivoting, pressing you hard against the wall. You can’t help but gasp at the sudden movements, which only widens her grin. Before you know it she’s running her tongue along your neck. Once more you gasp, this time softer, hating the way your body urges you to lean into her touch. Why couldn’t she simply get straight to the worst of it? Instead she takes her sweet time, slipping a finger beneath the collar of your shirt, slowly, carefully tugging it to the side. When she finally bites, it is terribly sudden. The pleasure comes before the pain, stronger than you would have expected, eliciting a sharp inhale from you that sounds more satisfied than you had intended. Even as a rush of pain follows, you can’t help the red that tints your cheeks.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” Cassandra asks, after licking away at your blood for a few moments, pulling back but not releasing you. Something in her eyes makes you need to respond.

“Y-yes, more than I’d like to admit,” you mumble, barely able to make eye contact. But she seems pleased by this, gently cupping your chin while she looks you over.

“Well then, if you survive… I might just have to drink from you again,” she whispers, before diving right back in towards your neck. This time her touch is far, far softer than before. It feels more like she’s kissing you rather than drinking from you. A strange, irritatingly familiar feeling springs in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t help but make more of those noises she seemed to enjoy so much. Hell, your eyes drift closed as you take in the surprisingly welcome sensation. When they reopen, however, you give a yelp of surprise, spotting a very awkwardly waiting servant. They were blushing, clearly not having expected to come upon this particular sight. Cassandra perks up at your shock, turning to follow your gaze, then giving an uncharacteristically resigned groan. “Damn it, Ava, is it urgent?” She asks, to which the servant gives a silent shrug. “I’ll be done in a minute. Now, where were we?”

Once more she resumes feeding, casting aside all traces of sweetness, sucking on your wound with reckless abandon. Behind her, Ava gives you a thumbs up before turning away. As embarrassing as the moment felt, you were grateful to xer, glad that xe seemed to recognize your desire for privacy. More than that… if xe hadn’t come along, would Cassandra have remembered to stop before your bloodloss became fatal? There was no guarantee either way. Yet xer intervention felt like a godsend, and you made a mental note to thank xer later. Soon enough Cassandra removes herself from you, pausing only to cup your chin for a moment, meeting your gaze with a smirk. Then she was turning away without another word, following Ava to some unknown destination.

A deep breath, then another, more frantic, the familiar sense of panic growing on the edges of your mind. Now that the feeding was over, you were left trembling with all the fear you had been so adamant about not showing before. How close to death had you come? How close were you now? Only feeling slightly more faint than you had earlier, it felt safe enough to assume you would be fine, if only physically. Inside your mind you were struggling with racing thought after racing thought. How the hell am I supposed to do this with either Bela or Daniela? You think, trying to breathe past the lump in your throat. And why did I have to enjoy that so much? They’re nothing more than means to an end, monsters undeserving of my kindness, of my joy. Your only comfort was the knowledge that this may very well have been the opportunity you had been waiting for; but only if you could shift your aim.

—————————

The difference was subtle, almost microscopic, to the point where it took you a full week to notice. But once you had? Everything felt different. You couldn’t spend more than three seconds in the same room as Cassandra without her eyes following you, watching your every move, sending a rush of both fear and excitement down your spine. Meeting her gaze only made her give the tiniest fraction of a smile. As soon as something (or someone) else caught her attention, however, you were forgotten in the blink of an eye. Yet it was nerve wracking nonetheless. This was roughly what you had hoped for, but you had underestimated the mental toll it would take on you. There was no way to tell whether Cassandra wanted violence, something softer, or her usual brand- a cruel mixture of both. Every second spent in her presence was a roll of the dice, a flip of a coin, either one weighted to put the odds against you.

But you persisted. Escape was not a dream, nor a fantasy, nor some far off cryptid. It was inevitable. Again and again you would swallow your fear until you reached your long-sought destination. No matter the cost, you think, no matter the consequences. Over time, that cost, those consequences, would grow. For now, it was a slice of your sanity. Next? More blood, it seemed.

“Casserole wants you to stop by her art studio,” the note said, cursive hand-writing ever-so-fancy and ever-so-difficult to read. Clearly from Ava, the mildly mysterious (but incredibly helpful) castle servant known for never speaking a word. From what you had gathered, xe was a confidant of sorts for the Dimitrescu family, trusted far more than the average worker. Alas, xe was loyal to the center of xer being, and was rumored to be impeccable at preventing escape attempts before they had even started. If you wanted out of this damn place, you knew you’d have to be careful around xer. Hopefully xe won’t interrupt this time, you think, before tucking the note away in your pocket.

Cassandra’s infamous studio wasn’t terribly far from your quarters, thankfully, though you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to arrive at a specific time. What if she wasn’t expecting you until later? Worse, what if she had been expecting you an hour ago? It’s a dangerous thought, one that could easily spiral into something far more drastic, and you try to reassure yourself, reminding yourself that Ava would have mentioned a time if it was important. In the end, you still found your heart racing as you stood outside the room in question. Pausing to take a deep breath, you center yourself, before raising a hand to knock. To your surprise, you get an answer before your hand even gets close to the door.

“Come in already,” Cassandra chimes from inside. Unsure of what terrible fate you were about to meet, you entered the room, somewhat reluctantly. Despite the myriad of unsavory rumors regarding the studio, there were no immediate signs of brutality. At the worst, the space was fairly messy, though not due to any, ahem, “misplaced” body parts. No, just an overflowing garbage bin, a few unfinished projects placed haphazardly wherever they’d fit, shards of glass in one corner, and tile floor splattered with a Pollock-esque layer of paint. In one word? Chaotic. Such was the type of environment that seemed to suit Cassandra best, the sort in which you imagined she would thrive. But you didn’t have time to examine anything as closely as you would have liked to. “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

“No, Lady Cassandra,” you reply, hurriedly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Then you’re quickly crossing the room, to what looks like a cross between a storage cabinet and a paint mixing station. In Cassandra’s hands, however, you find something less welcoming than a paintbrush: A needle and an empty blood bag. Well, you think, I guess I know why I’m here. At least there’s only one bag, right? “What do you require of me, my Lady?” While the answer was fairly obvious, you didn’t know the specific steps necessary, and it never hurt to be as polite as possible with the Dimitrescu family.

“Just sit down, roll your sleeves up, look pretty, and stay still. Try not to make any noises this time- as cute as they were last time, I have a headache,” Cassandra explains, gesturing towards the room’s only chair. Ignoring the way your cheeks heated up, you did as she asked, trying to get relatively comfortable. It was somewhat difficult to relax, considering who you were with. “Calm down, pet, I’m only going to hurt you a little. That’s more than I can say for most people who end up here.” Why did she have to use a nickname for you? Weren’t you already flushed enough without her teasing you further? Though your flustering does turn to confusion after a moment, as you wonder how she knew how afraid you were. You were under the impression that you were hiding it fairly well. Noticing your reaction, Cassandra rolls her eyes, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I can hear your heartbeat. Normally I’d find this… exciting. But my head hurts and I wanted to finish this damn painting yesterday. So take a deep breath, little pet, and let me take what I need from you.”

Of course she had to say it like that, and put herself so close to you. You’re pretty sure that your heart skips a few beats in response, though Cassandra doesn’t react beyond a hint of a smile, merely returning to her prep work. First step was cleaning your skin. Admittedly you hadn’t been sure if that step was necessary, seeing as the blood was (seemingly) for art as opposed to testing, but it didn’t exactly surprise you. Besides, there was a chance she’d drink the leftovers, right? Next she double-checked that the needle was properly connected to the blood bag, and that the latter was resting securely on a small stand. With that out of the way, it was time for her favorite part.

“Since your heartbeat has slowed down a little… I’ll let you whimper if you want to- but only once. Consider it a reward for good behavior,” Cassandra purrs with a familiar grin. One hand gently cups your chin, while her eyes look right in yours, just long enough to turn your cheeks bright red. The moment ends as quickly as it started. Before you know it she’s turned stoic again, feeling along your arm for a vein. This isn’t the first time you’ve had your blood drawn, but Cassandra takes no time at all to find the perfect spot, likely from a mix of practice and, well, her vampiric nature. It’s not long before she’s gently gripping your arm with one hand, briefly making eye contact before pushing the needle into your skin. Does it hurt? Hardly. Do you take a shaky inhale, hoping to please your employer, the closest to a whimper you were willing to give her? Oh, absolutely. And does she react? Oh, absolutely. Her eyes light up for a second as she bites her lower lip. There’s something else in her expression that you can’t quite read, however.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” You ask, smiling, voice soft in the hopes of not aggravating her headache. It’s a risk, and one that pays off more than you’d ever expect. Cassandra giggles a tad, eying you with the least mischievous smile you’ve ever seen from her. If not for the needle still in your arm, you might have found the moment charming, or even… romantic. But you pushed the thought away as soon as possible, reminding yourself of your one true goal: Escaping. This was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Even as Cassandra ever-so-gently removed the needle from your arm, even as she carefully placed a bandage over the entry-point, even as she gave you a nod of approval.

“This should last until the painting is done, at the very least. I might need you to make another ‘donation’ next week, though. Except, hmm… your blood is quite nice,” Cassandra says. Her tone is smooth, almost sultry, but her gaze is focused on her work as she starts mixing the blood with… something? You weren’t familiar with this particular artistic process, nor did you want to be. “Maybe I’ll set up a nice schedule for you. Once a month you can be my darling little muse, and once a month you can be a refreshing snack. I’ll even make sure that my sisters don’t do anything that might spoil our fun. Assuming you continue to prove entertaining, that is.” You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. In the end you settled for the former, chest thrumming with excitement as you felt yourself getting one step closer to your goal.

—————————

Three months pass by in an easy blur. Just as Cassandra had suggested, you find yourself in her company more often than before. Only twice a month does she take blood from you, for your own safety (which she pretends not to care about), but more and more you find her lounging around where you’re working, obviously by “pure coincidence”. Sometimes she even spoke to you! Teasing here and there, or asking you to do things that she normally did for herself, or scaring you just to hear you make one of your “lovely noises”. Honestly, you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by how attached she had gotten to you, or by how quickly it had happened. Of course, you didn’t even know if she enjoyed your personality… or just your blood. Either way, you found yourself enjoying her presence more than you’d ever openly admit.

Eventually, when the benefits of your budding “friendship” became more clear, you started to enjoy it even more.

It was early in the morning, right when the castle residents tended to go to sleep, and when the night shift officially ended. Minutes prior you had been conversing quietly with Cassandra, dusting some shelves as you did. Now, with your duties done only slightly later than usual, you were making your way back to your quarters. Along the way you were caught off guard by the sound of distant crying. ‘Twas a sound you’d heard many times before, from many different maidens, but this time felt… different. An odd feeling of sympathy sparked in your chest, and you made the brash decision to approach the source of the noise. When you rounded that last corner, when you made eye contact with the trembling figure, you knew that your kindness could very well be the death of you. To think that you had once hoped for this encounter.

“Who’s there?” Bela Dimitrescu snarls through chattering teeth. She’s moving forward, phasing in and out of swarm mode, reaching a hand out to clutch at your throat. Well, you think, at least she’s stopped crying? More so out of being distracted, instead of feeling any comfort from your company. It’s not a terribly reassuring thought, but it’s soon replaced with a mental string of ???? as Bela pauses, grip loosening as she holds you up in the light. “You’re Cassandra’s new favorite. Damnit!” With that she drops you rather unceremoniously. Then she’s turning her back to you, sniffling before wiping the tears from her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this, or I won’t hesitate to string you up, no matter what my sister says. Now get lost.”

Except you can’t force yourself to move. There’s a small piece of you that remembers your original plan, another small part feels a twinge of sympathy, and a majority of your brain sees this as an opportunity. What was a little more risk?

“Would you like me to bring you some tea, Lady Bela?” You ask, attempting to keep your tone neutral, lest she think you were judging her. In response, she turns to look at you slowly, eyes narrowed, thinly veiled rage only outweighed by the remnants of her anxiety. Then she’s stalking forward with cautious, deliberate movements. For a moment she searches your eyes for any hints at your motive. Hoping to ease her worries, you elaborated on your offer, and the reasoning behind it. “I’ve read that holding something warm in your hands, like a mug of tea or coffee, relaxes the brain. I believe it had something to do with mimicking human touch?... Forgive me if I’m overstepping your boundaries, my Lady. I… I felt compelled to ask, to help in whatever way I can.”

“Oh?” Bela hums, the majority of the anger draining from her face. There’s a hint of genuine surprise behind her bright eyes. “Very well, if you say it might… help.” Before you can turn to leave, you hear her clear her throat, and say one last thing. “A little softer than I would have expected from a pet of Cassandra’s.” She certainly had a point. But you don’t bother responding, instead focusing on your self-given task. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you were really Cassandra’s “pet”, or if there was more to your dynamic. Why did you feel so weird about the idea of being a mere “distraction” to her?... Something to think about while you made that tea, you supposed.

—————————

When you assisted with serving lunch the next day, Bela refused to make eye contact, even as you set a plate in front of her, or when you refilled her wine glass. There was a stiffness in the room that you weren’t familiar with. For the most part, Cassandra is more welcoming, giving you a small nod when you meet her gaze. By the time the family is done eating and moves to leave, the sisters are grouping together to speak in hushed voices. While you clean up after them, you cannot help but wonder if they’re discussing the previous night, or if Bela was as adamant about keeping quiet as she had seemed. Regardless, you felt rather good about how the conversation had gone. Hopefully she’s feeling better, you think, surprising yourself. Not that it matters… unless she tells Cassandra, I suppose.

You don’t see her for the rest of the day. It’s a double-edged sword, in a way. On one hand, you find yourself missing her, unused to not interacting with her at all. On the other hand? All the sudden you’re realizing just how involved she’s become with you. Certainly that meant something? Progress towards your eventual goal of escaping? God, you sure hoped so. Thinking about the future, about your plans, lasts you the entire night, thoughts following you all the way into bed. Sleep feels a million years away, and you find yourself staring silently at the ceiling. Unmoving. Damn near unblinking. When there’s the sound of footsteps outside your room, you are more than welcome for the distraction.

“Wake up, little pet,” a voice calls, as your door opens, and someone quickly slips inside. Before you can even sit up, you feel them slide into the bed with you. “It’s too cold in my room. You’re much warmer, aren’t you?” Clearly your darling Cassandra come to entertain herself. Considering how late in the day it is, you feel like you should be upset, and yet you feel yourself daring to wrap your arms around her. For a moment she goes stiff, but she soon relaxes into your touch. “You’re getting so good at knowing what I want from you. Mmm, I think I’ve trained you well,” she teases, shifting onto her back so she can pull you onto her chest. Although you’ve been this close to her before, this is the first time you’ve realized just how cold her skin is. No wonder she wants to sleep with me, you think, blushing at your unintentional wording.

“Fuck, you’re freezing,” you mumble, curling up against her nonetheless. She’s laughing then, without any hint of her usual malice, and you can’t help but laugh with her. When had the two of you gotten so warm with each other? Why did it feel so natural? There’s anxiety gnawing at the base of your skull, threatening to build up into a headache, tugging you away from the softness of the moment. If Cassandra notices, she’s quicker to act than you would have expected. It feels safer to believe that her next actions are a coincidence. Feels… better, when you remember that you are playing her for cheap, that any friendliness is a mockery made for the most bitter of betrayals to come.

“That’s why I’m here, dear. Now hush, I need some rest. With how comfortable you are… I may even let you sleep in,” she teases, before pressing the gentlest kiss to the top of your head. Your throat dries up in response, blush overtaking your cheeks, and you are left unable to speak. The thundering of your heart seems to somehow lull your would-be lover to sleep, while you find yourself growing to love the contrast her chill provides. Somehow, someway, you end up sleeping more soundly than you have in years.

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Another month passes. No opportunities to escape, no grand moves to make in this 4D game of chess, no clever plans to entangle yourself in. Yet you find yourself content. Happy. The work keeps you as busy as ever, but Cassandra often steals you away for her own desires. When she goes to drink your blood, she does so gently, with many soft kisses leading into the big moment. Afterwards she cleans your wound herself, touches as light as a feather, eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. At night, you find her coming to you for warmth almost every day. At first she provides little more than teasing excuses. But in time, she becomes more open, even being so bold as to kiss you on the lips every time, greeting you with quiet “dear”s and “darling”s. It gets to the poin that you cannot sleep without her presence.

Day after day, you find it harder and harder to remember why you were doing this. Was it so bad to enjoy your time with her? Was it so bad to find yourself leaning into her touches, kissing her back, gleefully awaiting your nightly rendezvous with her? Sometimes the thoughts were overwhelming, guilt and shame alike dancing inside your chest. Those days were the hardest to get through. Somehow, again and again, you go to her for comfort. To the very source of your conflict. Every last feeling was driving you towards an inevitable point. A conclusion written in stone, one that had been decided from the very first time Cassandra dug her fangs into your neck.

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Screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming, somehow more pained than that of any maiden you had ever heard, echoing throughout the castle halls, achingly familiar in tone. You had never heard her scream before, and yet you knew that the sound came from Cassandra. Before you can even begin to process your realization, you are thundering through the corridor, towards the noise that rattled your mind so desperately. How could anything possibly hurt her? How often had you seen her push her siblings around, each of them taking hits that could break bones as if they were light shoves? As if the punches tickled? Horror overtakes your thoughts, imagination far worse than reality had any right to be.

When you at last reach your lover, you are frozen in your tracks, eyes wide as can be. There she is, howling with both rage and pain as someone repeatedly slams the butt of a rifle into her head. Behind the fighting duo is a sight you never thought you’d see: An open door. Wide open, enticing, leading straight into the world you had sought to rejoin. You want to leave. God, you want to leave so bad. This is what you have been waiting for- Cassandra has not even seen you yet, too busy grappling with her attacker, movements too slow to be normal. What was wrong? Why were her limbs such a strange color? Was that… frost on her clothes? Or… crystal? Your gaze flickers back and forth between her and the exit, as time seems to pause, memories of the past few months racing through your mind. Goddamnit, you think, this is what I want, isn’t it? Consequences be damned, right? I said I wouldn’t stop for anything.

And so you move, automatically, on autopilot, unable to think about anything other than what you treasured most: Cassandra. One moment you’re standing still in the foyer, the next you’re grabbing a poker from the fireplace. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the movements come naturally, as you surge towards the scrambling pair. In one swift motion you drive the metal rod into the skull of the intruder, hating the sound, hating the splatter of blood against your clothes, hating the feeling of resistance followed by a terrible, terrible give. But the man slumps almost immediately, allowing your girlfriend to shove him off of herself. Still unable to think coherently, you’re throwing yourself into her arms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I- I, fuck. Are you…? Fucking tell me that you’re okay, please,” you ramble, holding the dangerously cold body of your girlfriend close to you, refusing to let go. She’s crying, clinging to you as desperately as you cling to her. But she’s responding in the affirmative. Over and over, saying she’s okay, telling you that it’s okay. Before you know it, she’s the one comforting you.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Okay? Look at me, take a deep breath. If anyone should be freaking out it’s me,” she says, pulling back enough to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s blood on her fingers, making your eyes go wide, but she quickly wipes it off with a scowl. Then she’s caressing your skin again, soft repeating motions perfect for calming you down. “That’s right, see? We’re fine. You’re a fucking badass, darling, and honestly? It’s very attractive.” Now you’re both giggling, you a bit more than her. Because of course she’s flirting right now. It’s an incredible softness. One that you, quite frankly, do not feel you deserve. At first it’s a tiny voice in the back of your head, but it soon grows until it strikes the smile from your lips. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, really,” you interject, as fast as you can, ignoring the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra isn’t convinced, however, and gives you a pleading look. Knowing that you cannot resist her, you close your eyes, sighing, then admit your wretched truth. “The door. Cassandra, the door’s open. I… I came down the hallway and I saw the two of you and I saw the fucking door and I… I hesitated. I hesitated.” There’s a mighty tremble to your voice, teeth and lips shaking. In the moment, you cannot bring yourself to meet her gaze, eyes instead glued to the bloodstained floor. It’s so quiet that you swear you can hear your tears hitting the tile. The air around you is filled with a looming heartache, a shadow over the two of you, hungry for your tears. But the rage you anticipate from Cassandra never comes.

For fuck’s sake, she pulls you closer. She takes you in her arms, making you rest your head against her chest, one hand gently rubbing circles into your back. Shock makes you unable to do anything other than linger limply in her grip. Thankfully, she has more than enough words for the both of you.

“Of course you did. All you ever wanted was to escape, right? And all I ever wanted was to see how much fun I could get out of you before you betrayed us,” she admits, coolly, as if the words didn’t break both of your hearts. At first, you merely start crying harder, realizing that she had seen through you this whole time. Realizing that all of her softness had just been sharpness covered in sheep’s clothing. Except she’s not done talking. “Now look at us. Couple of idiots who caught feelings. So shut up, because we’re in this mess together, now, and I don’t intend to let you go, understood? You-” she pulls back, looking you right in the eyes- “are mine. Besides… you just killed for me. I think that more than makes up for any hesitance, yeah?” Before you know it you’re kissing her. You’re pressing yourself to her, smiling through your tears, forced to pause to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous had this whole affair been? How had you convinced yourself, for so long, that escape was all you had cared about?...

All this time you thought you wanted out. But at the end of the day… you just wanted to go home. How could you have guessed that you would have found a new home, here, in someone’s arms? Despite the surprise of it all… you couldn’t be happier.