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[ayurvedanaturalcures]

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[incorrectbatfam]

One thing I rarely see in injury and chronic pain fics is the grief that comes with missing out on stuff you love because you can no longer do them without hurting yourself. Writers who have been disabled their whole lives (or at least a long time) tend to forget that not all disabled people are used to being disabled. For able-bodied characters, especially athletic ones like vigilantes, a serious injury could mean a jarring change that includes giving up the things that mean the most to them.

I was physically fine until I was 18. Back then, my sense of self was entwined with interests that required a lot of movement and dexterity. I started doing MMA in middle school for self-defense. I loved parkour and even had a few hundred subscribers on my old YouTube channel. I learned to shoot and was gifted my first gun when I was 16. I took up multiple instruments. You get the idea.

My motorcycle accident fucked up the joints on my left side—my knee and shoulder especially, but also wrist to an extent. When it first happened, I thought I'd be on crutches for a bit but things would eventually get back to normal. The pain didn't go away even after I got rid of the crutches but I figured it was just residual and I should do what I'd been doing before. It's why I turned to substances—to block the pain and do what I love, but that's another topic. I didn't recognize my injury as a disabling thing until the end of the pandemic, when I put my parkour channel on an indefinite hiatus because it was seriously wearing my body down. It might sound silly to you but I was devastated. It's like if Spider-Man wasn't allowed to swing from buildings. It took me a long time to make peace with losing that part of me.

Another piece of that grief is even when you can do stuff, it's not the same because you have to exclude certain aspects of it for your own health. It's like the Robin that died and came back wrong. I can't use certain gym equipment and I have to tell my sparring partners what to avoid. I don't go to the shooting range much now because I can't extend my arm and hold a rifle for the amount of time it takes to aim without it starting to hurt. I'm a drummer, but I need breaks throughout the setlist and I can't do anything too fast or complex with the pedals, which means I can't play some of my favorite songs and my band is limited in what we write and perform. I can't take my motorcycle on road trips without frequent rest stops. Making accommodations helps physically, but emotionally, they're not always easy to accept because that means accepting the pain as a long-term disability rather than a temporary setback.

This got super long because I think it's unexplored in fics so some tips for creators:

First, learn how the body works and how stupidly fast and easy it is to get hurt. Mine was on a residential road because I didn't pay attention for 0.2 seconds

Learn the difference between internalized ableism and being upset over becoming disabled. I think a lot of writers skip over the feelings someone would naturally experience because it can be construed as ableism. Let them be in denial, sad, angry, etc. upon finding out because acceptance almost never happens right away. That's different from being a dick to themselves or others based on disability

Also, not everyone uses the same labels or has the same vocabulary to describe themselves. Different characters will have different ways of describing depending on their personality, level of knowledge, where they come from, and their relationship with their disability. I still don't really call myself disabled since I don't have it as bad as others so I tell people what happened instead (anyone who says "differently abled" will receive a different ability from me in the Denny's parking lot)

Think about how they cope with their new disability. Do they realize it's a disability right away? Do they talk to someone? Search desperately for a cure? Numb the pain? Turn to alternative methods? Do they worry about something else first, like money? Do they develop something else because of it, like a mental illness? Again, coping poorly is not ableism

What stays the same and what changes? I think about the difference between Forrest Gump and Lieutenant Dan after they were both wounded in battle

If they have a passion they can no longer pursue, it doesn't make much sense for them drop it so readily. Maybe they find a way to continue with accommodations (a good place to get creative!). Maybe they try and push through anyway. If they do ultimately resign, include the thought process and internal conflict behind it

[isatartdump]

What do they do once siffrin starts becoming a zombie/showing symptoms of it? Do they lock him in a room or something

Also how long do you imagine it takes , literally every media does it differently

Do the zombies work out... Can they run...

I was thinking on Mirabelle using healing craft (and maybe asking for anyone that is willing for help on such, as they travel to try and get a cure) to slow the symptoms a little bit. They don't stop the symptoms and he is growing more and more resistant to the healing craft on that sense but ! it gives them some time.

As a temporary solution at least. Once they're too lost (in the sauce) to the virus they'd start looking for a better... Temporary solution before outright making a decision if they abandon siffrin, kill him so he doesn't stay this way or use wish craft for another chance/more time.

Still a firm believer that Siffrin would joke about his predicament. Like that one time he says he can be a ghost to each and everyone of the party but more literal.

"You can have me follow you around."

"As a zombie??"

"I'd be a good pet!"

Or something along those lines. For how long it takes- I'd say I follow the rule of taking a few weeks. Enough time for them to go from Vaugarde to the frountier in search for a good place to study, look for more information (in general) and try and see who's safe and who isn't in the cities they pass. First few days is alright, and then the symptoms go like flu and get around something more akin to dengue (severe headache, pain behind the eyes, muscle and joint pains, the list goes on. Using dengue mostly because I had it a long time ago) to the last ones being loss of self and general zombie shenanigans.

Since King's wish was to preserve Vaugarde (thinking if I keep it the same or change it around or change a lot around to fit the narrative/world/blabla) I don't know if they'd rot, though.

The zombies run. Their intent is infection so they can spread so its a mix. You can find slow and quick ones and you can't really figure out what they are until they notice you. I like big chase scenes and trying to sneak past so I think the mix match is fun!

Also in general (not isat opinion but a zombie opinion) I think slower zombies are dangerous due to people underestimating them. Not much into how dumb people are but just how strangely unpredictable a slow oponent can be sometimes, ha. The fast ones are scary though. So using both is a good on me :p and doesn't feel far fetched. Different people have different ways of walking/running.

HONESTLY. Consider everything a big wip, specially since I decided everything on zombies and what their objectives are but I don't really know about the wishes used in question (ignoring the "I wish to stay with them" portion). Ueue.

[gotstabbedbyapen]

hi! idk if you already did a post like this but do you have apollo and hyacinthus married headcanons?

A disclaimer first: When I say Apollo and Hyacinthus are """married""", I don't mean they are wedded like Zeus and Hera or Dionysus and Ariadne. What I mean is they are joint by worship and share a shrine in Sparta as a deity duo.

However, I do joke that Hyapollo are technically married because when Apollo's and Hyacinthus' cults were historically merged, Apollo replaced Hyacinthus' OG wife and kept the same relationship nature with Hyacinthus.

That being said, I haven't talked in detail about their """marriage""" life yet. I have a lot of ideas in mind that will end up in future works, so for now, I'll only write the headcanons about their first years.

Apollo kinda "proposed" to Hyacinthus when he offered him immortality. Its's a half-joking, half-serious "Do you want to spend eternity with me?" that can be interpreted as a marriage proposal.

Hyacinthus had answered with a "I'll think about it" when he was first asked because of reasons (complications with his mortal parents, worries over his new role in Sparta, etc.)

When Hyacinthus had made up his mind and intended to say yes after their game of quoit, he got struck and died.

Fast forward to Hyacinthus' resurrection and immortalization (it will be a topic of its own), he had been through years separating from Apollo and had done things to get back to his lover, so he can swear with his own head that he wants to be with Apollo forever.

Their first years of being together again was super rough. Hyacinthus has to deal with the physical and psychological aftermaths of being made alive again. But he is stubborn and will not yield to the sickness. It took him so much to get back to Apollo and he ain't letting all the efforts be in vain.

Apollo does not have it easy. He is helpless and cannot fully cure Hyacinthus from his condition because anything related to death fell out of his domain. He was constantly stressing over Hyacinthus' health and the fear of losing him a second time, maybe for good.

Only much later, when Hyacinthus' health is more stabler, do they finally get to breathe out of relief.

Apollo will not leave Hyacinthus' side for quite some time, always making sure he is in sight. He still had paranoia of losing him :( Hyacinthus also had panick attacks if he thought he would be sent to the Underworld again.

Furthermore, the years apart had changed both of them. They did not age (Apollo is a god and Hyacinthus is stuck in the age he died in), but they had trauma that drastically altered their personalities.

So during the first years of their "marriage", Apollo and Hyacinthus are trying to heal from old pains and learning about each other again.

It isn't easy for the both of them and their relationship may not be the same as before, but they still love each other very much and will try their hardest to make it work. Things will be alright, they hope.

[gracien-system]

This is a superglue appreciation post -- if you think that you're going to be injured or are at risk of injury in the near future, make sure you keep some superglue on hand for it (medical grade if you can, you can find stuff like Dermabond at the pharmacy now), it's bio-safe, stops bleeding, forms a damn near sterile seal, and is tougher than new skin.

Superglue cures a bit too fast to be "safe" for medical use, it can cause burns if you use too much of it or apply it to a wound that's too deep, but it will work in a pinch if you need to stop bleeding or close a wound quickly. Medical grade stuff cures slower, has little to no risk of burns, and has less risk of allergic reaction if that's a concern.

Keep in mind that superglue is effectively liquid plastic which sets near instantly on contact with anything, so it's a bit more rigid than skin. This can be a bit painful if you apply it in areas of your body with a lot of friction, namely hands, elbows, shoulders, and other similar joints.

[lilfoxy1013]

Alrighty.. just putting this here for safekeeping and so maybe it’ll be easier to explain. On Feb 17, 2024 my boyfriend at the time woke up around 9:30 am to me having a seizure. He took me to a research hospital in the area and we got to the ED around 11 am. They did a CT and an MRI and have found what they called a 4 cm tumor in my right frontal lobe. I had another MRI in the middle of March and got more measurements on the size of the tumor. Based on the measurements, I did the math and found it was 119 cubic cm (about the size of a billiards ball). I had a right frontal craniotomy on April 1, 2024. They were able to remove the entire tumor and my MRI the evening after surgery showed no residual tumor. I’ve met with an oncologist and we waited for pathology results. Pathology came back as a Grade 3 Astrocytoma with the IDH1 mutation. I have started 500 mg of Tibsovo daily to keep it from growing back, or at least slow it down. There isn’t a cure for brain tumors, so we just wait for it to come back and do surgery again. If you’ve read this far into my real life shit, I appreciate any well wishes, thoughts, and prayers if you’re religious. I try to keep my spirits up and handle things rationally but some days that is a little more difficult. I’m stuck on antiseizure medication for at least a year from my latest seizure (luckily it’s still just the seizure in Feb 2024) and cannot drive per my state’s laws for a year from the last seizure as well.

Luckily my job has been flexible with me since February but trying to get back to full time hours is a struggle, especially if I want to take care of myself as well (bathing, eating, cleaning, etc). Also, lots of back and forth with insurance companies and the hospital and lots of scans and follow up appointments.

6 month MRI was clean. “No progression” and “stable burden of disease”. Joint pain has been mostly managed with new meds.

I moved in with my “friends” who turned into girlfriend, fiancée, and wife very quickly (we had a hand fasting ceremony Oct 6, 2024) and her husband became my boyfriend as well. Being in a functional throuple is new to them, so there have been some hiccups but everything is looking up. 💜

9 month post op MRI came back with no suspicious activity to suggest disease progression or recurrence, so that’s a win! I’m almost able to legally drive in Arkansas again (very stupid seizure law here). The wifey’s husband and I are not pursuing a relationship right now to keep our household as stable as possible, but I think it’s for the best long term ☺️

[gatoluva]

A Shrunken Traveler

G/T Scaramouche Fic - SFW

My apologies if this isn’t my best writing, I’m currently obsessing over him so… had to crank something out to cure myself. Please request for other characters if you wish to see content of them too.

It was just a normal day for you really, you went about your usual adventuring- fighting off hilichurls, enemies, and such. You were off looking for some resources for a few friends of yours, but that came to a stop when you were interrupted by a fatui agent, this wasn’t unusual to happen- but there was something strange about the potion the bandits around him splashed at you. However, you quickly whipped up the battle, scoffing at the agent.

“I thought you’d know better by now…?” You said while you rolled your eyes at them. You grabbed your bag of the resources that you had collected, pocketing a few from the fallen agents and bandits around, and decided to head back to the place you were staying at in Sumeru. It was a nice evening, but on your way back you can’t help but feel drowsiness…? Assumingly, you think it’s because it’s late and you did a lot of fighting- that’s normal to drain you out, but that assumption is proven wrong as there is a tight pull at every single muscle in your body. Your joints felt like they were being caved in and put pressure on, it was nothing but pain for a minute or two until you passed out on the trail. Your bag of resources dropped beside you as you collapsed, and you dozed off.

You slept peacefully for a while, but something began to wake you up. A strange, loud thundering noise. Your eyes slowly opened, it felt like you were shaken every time that noise appeared, and you looked around. All you could see as you looked up was the sky, and the sky was clear- it wasn’t raining or thundering or anything. This confused you until the thundering noise got closer and shook you more roughly. You scrambled to sit up, but once you did your head ached and your eyes widened at how huge and far everything surrounding you looked. What the hell?

Suddenly, one big foot lands beside you, throwing sand toward what you realize is your small being, and you can’t help but feel anxiety in your gut, an irritating gnawing feeling of fear.

“Well, well, well, traveler. I think I’ve gained the right to refer to you as an unsightly insect now.”

A familiar voice boomed, the words they selected were familiar, and intimidating for you at this size. You decided to look up, slowly tilting your head back- but oh did it pain your neck to go that far, as you looked up you couldn’t make out a face, but you made out a familiar figure. You absolutely knew who loomed over you, but just in time to confirm your suspicions- he faced down, looking at you with a smug smirk.

“How rude of you to ignore me, traveler,” Scaramouche commented, tapping his foot once which shook you again. He scoffed a laugh, a bit embarrassed for you actually- how can you be so easily to shake with a singular foot tap?

“Don’t hurt me-“ you yelled up at him, if anyone would hurt you, you felt as if it would be likely to be him. Even if the wanderer was on a path to being a ‘new person’ you knew exactly the things he was capable of and how mischievous the man could be

The wanderer rolled his eyes, “You’re so uptight, you’re not worthy of being hurt- so don’t worry about it,” he said with that tone of irritation. His shadow grew bigger over you as he lowered himself, crouching on top of you. You got up to your feet, backing up some so you weren’t directly under the giant, being in that position had your anxiety levels rising ridiculously fast.

“Well, good…” you replied, looking away from the giant. Scaramouche sighed while scrutinizing you, “If I were you I’d be indefinitely embarrassed, you should just hide from the world at this size, this just spells danger…” he commented. You looked back up at him, rushing a hand to your neck to comfort the ache that started.

“I can’t just… hide away from the world…? I have to find my sibling,” you said- slightly annoyed he’d even suggest that. Scaramouche rolled his eyes and brought a finger down towards you, immediately you felt your heart race as his finger towered over you and came towards you, poking you. “And you think you can accomplish that at the size of an unworthy, disgusting, little pest?” The purple-haired man asked.

Every single word he spoke that ‘described you’ immediately grows the fear inside of you, out of all people to run into… you ran into Scaramouche, great. You hesitated your response, feeling kind of sad at that, how would you find your sibling at this size? You probably couldn’t take on an enemy anymore. “Well- I-“ you were interrupted, Scaramouche mocked you, “You- uh- you- uh- what- you-“ he laughed as he mocked your stuttering, poking you again and forcing you to fall and land on your rear. “Pathetic, you can’t do anything, traveler, what a shame you won’t be the hero everyone knows you as any longer.”

You landed on your rear, oh that stings to fall so quickly and roughly. The wanderer’s words have your waterline producing slight tears, everything before you becomes a blurry canvas almost as you almost begin to cry. The wanderer widened his eyes at your silence, oh Archons. “Hey- wait, don’t get all upset with me? I was just teasing you…” he tries and suddenly scoops you up in his hands. “Just because you’re tiny- I’m not gonna treat you any different, got that, spec?” He confirmed, raising an eyebrow at you and squinting his eyes.

You felt the roughness of his palm suddenly scoop you up, holding you close to his face- every word he spoke you felt his breath wash up against you. Of course, he wouldn’t be gentle despite your situation, typical for him. “Would you at least protect me…? I can’t protect myself anymore if I’m this size forever…” you requested, he immediately looked annoyed that you’d even request that.

It takes a beat for him to respond, looking away and furrowing his brows until he finally lands his gaze upon you again. “If you run off on me- that’s your fault- I’ll do what I can to protect you, I guess, but you better behave. I’m not here to babysit you, you’re expected to do most things on your own, I’ll only be here to protect you,” he warned.

It felt so pressuring that you had guidelines such as those to follow, but what could you expect from Scaramouche? You sighed and nodded, “Then I got it,” you finally replied to the question before that. Scaramouche nods, “As you should,” then looks over his person deciding where he shall store you. “I’ve got to actually do a few things, so you’ll have to be brought along unfortunately… you know, since I didn’t do something stupid and got myself shrunken?” He teased, then while looking down he spotted the bag of goodies. “I’ll be taking that, might need it,” Scara added and picked up the bag of resources. “As for you, I guess I can shove you in my pocket- no talking on the way there, I can’t stand your tiny voice,” he demands as he shoved you carelessly into his pocket.

And traveling with the giant wanderer you go…

[hyperfixiation-station]

For Better Or Worse

TW: Swearing, self-depreciation

Pairing: Gaz x Reader

Summary: In which the reader has hEDS and is feeling guilty

Is funny how much something can change over the course of two years. 

The picture you held in your hands filled you with a sense of longing. You stood in uniform, grinning brightly at the camera, sandwiched in between Soap and Gaz, who both had arms thrown over your shoulder. Ghost stood next to Soap, just barely touching shoulders, and Price stood next to Gaz, who was holding up bunny ears over his head. It was the last picture taken before you got honorably discharged. 

You sigh, placing the photo back on the dresser. You pull the drawer open so you can grab your wrist brace, the original reason you had come up here. You’re supposed to go wash the dishes, but the drive to do it disappeared as soon as you saw the picture. Instead, you sit on your bed, absentmindedly rubbing your wrist. 

Usually, you were good about being upbeat and not letting your thoughts get to you, but today was harder than most. Your mind flickers back to this same day two years ago, when you sat in the clinic, being told you wouldn’t be able to continue serving. 

Against your will, your eyes fill with tears. Not for the first time, you curse your stupid, broken body. As a kid, people had always told you it was just growing pains, that the hurt would stop as you got older. Then you hit 13, and never grew another inch, but the pain kept getting worse. You ignored it, and every other sign that something was wrong. You graduated, joined the military, and for 3 short years you served your country doing the job you loved. 

And then things changed. The pain got worse, and your achy joints began to pop out of place. At first, it was almost normal. You’d dislocate a shoulder sparring, sublux a rib while climbing a rope. But things got worse, just like always. It started small, dislocating an ankle when you pushed your chair back, dislocating a finger when you slept on your hand wrong, but then it got bigger, joints subluxing and dislocating when you went to grab a dish, or pushed down on something too hard. 

Finally, one night when Gaz found you in the kitchen, tears in your eyes, holding a shoulder that just would. Not. stay. In. Place. Did you go to see the doctor. 

Months of testing, blood draws, and X-rays later, you finally had an answer. 

“Hypermobile Ehler Danlos syndrome.” they told you, “A connective tissue disorder. There's no cure. And you can’t keep serving.” 

Of course you’d been upset, but you’d always been the kind to roll with the punches, so you shook it off and kept going. You started going to college, online, so you could at least do something with your life. 

But as the months went by it got harder and harder to go from a soldier to just a military spouse. You felt so fuckign useless all the time. Useless and needy and whiny and pathetic. Gaz would come home after being gone for a month, facing the risk of death everyday,  to a dark house because you couldn’t stand up for long enough to even make dinner without needing to sit down again. It was so fuckign stupid. 

Your vision blurs as you begin to sob. This wasn’t what you wanted your life to be like. You had wanted to fight, to protect and serve, but instead you were given a useless fuckign body that couldn’t even stand up properly. It was so fucking stupid. Stupid that your fingers constantly felt like they were broken, stupid that your ankle pops out of place because you move wrong, stupid that you pass out if you stand up too fast. Stupid stupid stupid so fuckign stupid. 

Not to mention how fuckign useless you were to everyone around you. Your husband should not come from an active warzone just to have to put up with you and your stupid, worthless body. He was so, so good about it too, which just made you feel guiltier. He would bring you heating pads, massage sore muscles, pop your shoulder back into place, and cater to your every fuckign stupid need. 

And what did you do? Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. And you hated it, hated feeling guilty, hated being so needy, hated it, hated it, hated it.

Hands touch your face and you flinch back, not realizing someone had come into the room. It's dark now, and you wonder how long you have been sitting there. A thumb runs across your cheek, wiping tears from your face as you. 

You look up to see Gaz kneeling in front of you, frowning. 

“I’m sorry.” you sniff, cutting him off as he opens his mouth, “I didn’t realize what time it was.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He murmurs, “what’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing. I just…got in my head I guess.” You laugh weakly.” 

“Y/N, baby, I haven’t seen ya cry like this since, well…ever.” He runs a thumb along your lip before dropping his hands to your lap, sandwiching your hands with his, “Please let me help you.” 

“It’s just…today is hard.” A look of drawing realization crosses his face as you speak. 

“I know it is sweetheart.” He says softly, “But ya didn’t look this bad even when ya got discharged. What’s going on?” Your eyes well with tears again as you stare at the man in front of you, who is so worried and cares so much, and for what? A partner who only had 2 spoons at any given time? 

“Y/N?” He calls softly, “You with me?” 

“Why?” You whisper hoarsely. “Why?” He echos, confused. 

“Why are you doing this? Why did you stay with me? I am so fucking useless and I can’t give you the attention you deserve and I just-” A hand covers your mouth, cutting off what you were saying. You finally look up from your lap, meeting his eyes. He looks…hurt. He opens his mouth and you expect to hear something along the lines of ‘oh don’t say that’ or ‘you’re not useless’. 

“Do ya remember what we promised when we got married? He asks instead. You blink in surprise, not sure what he’s getting at.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” He recites, “Those weren’t empty words love. Sure, this wasn’t something we were expecting, but thus is life. If my arm got blown off tomorrow, you wouldn’t think less of me would you?” 

“Well there would be less of you so…” You tease, wiping your eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” He grins at you, standing up. He holds out his hand, gently pulling you up with him, a hand coming to steady you as your vision tunnels. 

“What do you say we go watch that creepy Supernatural show you're obsessed with and ignore the day?” He keeps his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the stirs. You smile at him, grateful for the change in subject. 

“Gaz, honey, it's nighttime.” 

“Semantics.” You laugh at him softly, marveling at how lucky you were to land him. Things would never be okay, you would never be able to get rid of the nagging feeling of being utterly fucking useless, but with him by your side, life was a little easier to deal with. 

btw Pt.2 of L.L.A.T.P.O.I. is in the works :))

[avatarkv]

The inches in between us. (Exile)

After you have finally escaped the brutality of Quaritch, your feet wandered carelessly to Eywa-knows where. With no clan to return to, you will never guess where you end up at— the root of it all.

“How could I have brought war back to you if it never left the first place? Do not put the blame on me, oh great mighty warrior, I have already been long shouldering my clan’s battle cries— you have no idea.” (second part)

Content and warnings: Jake Sully x Reader! Age gap (reader is in her 20s while jake is mid 30s.) Mention of violence. no neytiri, she dead here yall. think this part has 3.3k words!!!

“You asked for me, sa’nok?” You entered the tent that held medicine and all sorts of cure. You slowly stride inside, careful not to break any glass or to step on important plants and such. 

You see her mushing herbs on the corner, her eyebrows knitted together in complete focus— always the overworking Tsahik. You walk towards her, letting your presence known with a soft nudge. She greets you with a smile, urging you to sit beside her. 

“As you already know, you are at the age of..” Your mother takes a deep breath, not even bothering to look at your already annoyed expression. “finding a mate—“ 

“Oh Eywa, not this again.” You rolled your eyes, removing her hand from your thigh.  

“Give this man a chance, my sweet child.” She coos, stroking your back in soothing circles. You take in the moment to feel her calloused hands on your skin— the comfort of a mother. “Forgive and you will find love.” 

—

Your eyes open to an unfamiliar ceiling, worry immediately churning your stomach. You were unable to move; fatigue and stiffness immediately overtaking your senses. It was almost unbearable, if not for the healing pastes and cure. The hurt that struck your entirety had also been a reminder to where you were at the moment. 

You stood unsteadily, trying to carefully stretch the pain out from your joints. If it was your mother who had healed you, you’d immediately meet a slap on the forehead for moving already— but she wasn’t here and you were nowhere near your home. 

The flap from the hut opens, revealing Neteyam. He greets you with a swift nod and you reply with the usual gesture. “My father lends you these,” He extends the clothes from his hands and you take it hesitantly. “He waits for you near training quarters. Ask any of the people here and they will take you there.”

The cloth was woven delicately; the few beads attached glimmered under the morning’s light, almost as if it asked me to handle it with absolute care. Surely, this was someone else’s— unless the people here were fast on their hands, but it was unlikely. The loincloth was a simple brown with distinguishable accents, one of the few patterns that the Omatikaya wear.  

“Is it not to your liking?” He interrupted, stepping forward and reaching for the clothes. Your head instantly raised to meet his eyes, only to realize his gaze stayed on the garments on your hands. A minute or so might’ve passed while examining it. “I can ask for another—“ 

You immediately shook your head, “I was simply admiring it. Irayo, Neteyam.” 

He was hesitant, you’ve realized; his lips would open, only to shut it close again. Neteyam’s face contorts into frustration, sharply turning his head to where he entered earlier with a sigh. “Whatever purpose you serve here, it better be for good. We’ve long washed our hands from war.”

You were beyond confused and before you could even ask, he hurriedly exited the hut. There’s a sharp pang of hurt rapidly growing on your chest— seizing what’s left of it to feel and crushing the already scattered pieces to fine dust. You couldn’t blame him anyway; you appeared to him in distress, bloodied and hurt. On top of that, you didn’t have the chance to introduce yourself properly. You came barging in without any explanation and they accepted you nonetheless. 

It was conflicting. You wanted to be mad at them— cause a wildfire and let them watch as everything becomes ash to nothing. An eye for an eye.

– 

The people took you there, as said by Neteyam. There stood the Toruk Makto discussing with another warrior, but as you walked towards them, you were greeted with the unfamiliar apparel worn by the other. You were alarmed at the avatar standing alongside Jake Sully and you immediately changed your stance into a defensive one. You hissed as you drew out your bow.

“Mawey, mawey!” Jake approached you with both hands up as his friend cowered on the corner. You bared your teeth as he acted as a barrier between you two. “This is Norm—“ 

“Demon!”

“‘eylan, he means no harm.” He gently lowered your weapon, yet your gaze never faltered. Jake nudged you, tilting his head to Norm while whispering a ‘come on, tell him your name.’ 

“__ te Kuweyi Ralì'ite” You snarled as he sheepishly waved in return. 

The three of you gathered further in the quarters. Jake had urged you to explain; to tell them your side of story— and you did, though inside you were terribly conflicted. You told them the whereabouts of your clan while they ruled out possibilities of where the enemies could be. Begrudgingly, you told them of their lab. You remembered being carried there within the night it happened— they must have been near. 

Norm had decided to investigate that very area. If it was a huge lab, then there was no reason for them to abandon it carelessly. It didn’t matter if Quaritch wouldn’t be present, but as long as there were crumbs to follow or even a few dream walkers to interrogate, it would be enough. Jake approved the plan, although hesitantly, he couldn’t risk the safety of his clan anymore. 

The whole time, Jake kept stealing glances. He stared in a scrutinizing manner and assessed you carefully. He studied your little actions— how your ears moved according to the emotion you showed, the small snarl you made every time the sky people were mentioned, and the way your head tilts whenever you couldn’t understand. 

You stood there across him and it was like he had known you for a long time. 

“This could be a one way trip as long as there are no stops or rests,” Norm explains, towering the tiny map and tracing the places “but I don’t fancy flying an ikran while it’s already dim out, so we’ll split it to a day and a half.” 

“I lost my Ikran,” Half a lie, again; she might be dead and you would never know. The thought makes you wince, your ears dropping. “Haven’t seen her since I ran away.”

“You’ll ride with Jake,” Norm decides and there was no room for negotiation. He wanted this to be over with, praying that you’re only mistaken— but who would attack as unmerciful as them? 

“You better be right about this, __” Jake’s attention turned to you, “Let’s move out immediately.” 

Being the responsible Olo'eyktan he is, he gathered everyone to announce his sudden departure. You stared at the eager crowd, listening intently to what he had to say. The mention of the sky people’s return faltered the clan, argument immediately roared among everyone. He’ll be back, two days tops— they all arrive at an understanding. The people grab onto him, forming some sort of chain that connected everyone all at once. Jake Sully had unbelievable authority; he knew all too well how to deal with the responsibility everyone had thrusted into him and you admired him in this perspective.  

You and Norm stayed with the Ikran. You watched him cautiously as he made use of the time to tinker around and check. Jake had to be with his children first— explain to them more clearly. It stung him to leave them like this, but Mo’at had assured him countless times that they’d be safe with her. 

His figure appears from the bushes, his eldest son trailing behind. Neteyam gave you a side glance, lowering his head in shame as he remembered the scene he caused earlier.  He couldn’t look you in the eyes— not like this. It made his stomach churn nauseously. 

“You’re in charge Neteyam,” Jake greets his Ikran, caressing it gently. “You know what to do.” His son answers in a swift yes sir, watching as his father mounts Bob. 

He offers you his hand, lifting you with ease off the ground. As you sat behind him, only then did Neteyam finally looked at you. His gaze was menacing— a silent threat. It was impossible to grab onto Jake for leverage, not with his son shooting daggers between your proximity. 

“You might want to hold on,” Jake turns to you,  “It’s been a while since I had someone aboard with Bob.” 

“Bob?” You ask indecorously, “Oh Eywa, save this poor Ikran.” 

— 

“Are we there yet?” You ask for the nth time. You’d be burning in embarrassment, if it wasn’t for the weariness that struck you whole. 

Jake would be a big liar if he said it didn’t bother him how you asked every minute. The way you slipped in and out of consciousness didn’t help either, as he had to hold you securely and nudge you back awake. It caused them to slow down every time and he wasn’t gonna deal with that during the whole flight ahead. With an idea popping just above his head like a lightbulb, he cleared his mind and fastened Bob’s pace.  

“Jake,” You tried to threaten, but the breathiness of your voice did little to scare him off. You grabbed his forearms, scared that you’d fall from the sudden shift in movement increasing by the second. “I pray to Eywa for strength that I do not pluck your eyes out!”

Bob sharply swerved, listening intently to what Jake ordered. He dangerously flew near the deformed terrain, through thick mosses and vines— at this point, you were Jake’s second skin with how close you were gripping onto him; your cheek dug tightly against his back. You could feel his laugh vibrating through his body, his shoulders shaking. 

In front you was two lands connected by thick ropes of plants, an opening right in the middle that you were sure no Ikran could pass through. Jake took that as a sign, lowering his body in thrill. (This man’s arch is crazy)

 “Hold on,” His arm snaked through your waist, pulling you closer if it was any more possible. As much as you wanted to shut your eyes, it remained open in anticipation. This was it, you thought, this was where Eywa will finally finish you off. 

To your surprise, you got through easily, the harsh gravel only scratching parts of your skin. You laugh, almost maniacally— the laugh of pure relief. You hoisted yourself up, kneeling on the Ikran’s back and grabbing onto Jake’s shoulders. You raised your hand, balling it up to a fist with a shout. The adrenaline was clearly washing your drowsiness and it was quickly replaced with a sensation you had dreaded for the very moment you were at the ripe age for training.

Jake was now the one feeling uneasy as he held your thigh down in place, extremely worried— but from his peripheral vision, you burned brightly and he couldn’t help but to admire you like a moth to a flame. The scenery blurred in the background and for a minute, there was peace. 

—

Darkness soon engulfed Pandora’s entirety. You quickly settled in for the night, resting on a cave-like spot— there was water situated near its opening, perfect for needed relief. Jake scouted the area to rid of any possible risk, as both you and Norm helped cozy up the place. Soon, pieces of cloth surrounded the fire and everyone made themselves comfortable. 

There was silence and it wasn’t the one you could rest to. It was the kind of quiet that begged to be filled— for someone to talk. 

“You are the daughter of both Tsahik and Olo'eyktan,” Jake disrupted the silence, his eyes unmoving. You answered with a swift yes, curious to where this conversation will lead. “Then I suppose you are betrothed?” 

You stifle a laughter, covering your already growing smile. You remember the multiple warriors lining up for your hand, but you would turn them down just as eager as they first came. Your freedom was too important to be given up— you disliked being tied down, especially when they only attempt to seduce the title you hold. This was the cause of plenty of misunderstandings between your parents as well, but you couldn’t be bothered to comply. 

“No men could please me.” You simply answered, shaking your head as it hung low with a smug grin. “And you? You already have a handful of kids, doubt there’s no one holding your heart close.” 

Silence enveloped everyone once again and this time, it achingly went by. You gazed at Jake in anticipation, only to see him fidgeting with the loose cloth from your top. 

“Neytiri,” Jake started, his still eyes watching the dancing flame grow higher, “Neytiri was my mate. The first time we met, she almost killed me and right there and then, I knew it was love.” His tone was humorous, but the hurt was unmistakable between every breathy laugh.  

“All energies are borrowed– at some point, you have to give it back. Even,” He palmed his face, sighing deeply. Everything constantly reminded him of her; the date nights, the simple cackle of the fire– you in her goddamn clothes. It’s been years already and Neytiri’s flame never once faltered on the back of his mind. She was there, always ready to visit him in dreams. “Even if they were promised to you.” 

You sat there, ears dropping in condolences. It drove him insane; you were there, almost as if Eywa had sent you for compensation– to be here in her absence. How else would Mo’at let you stay, in guise of the great mother’s will? Why else would Jake let his wife’s belongings be worn by you? 

You sat there and it hurt.

“Eywa holds her dear, Jake.” You hesitantly caressed his fist and he swore right here and then, your touch had caused fire to a part of him long gone. It was there, beating madly– but beating nonetheless. He shuts his eyes, letting the feeling bask in every fiber of his being.

It’s shameless– dancing with the devil. Just days ago, you wanted to wreak havoc; you wanted him gone and all you want now was to cradle him close. It was like the great mother had let you see him in a different light– in a different perspective. Was this her will? You thought, to be devastatingly in love with an already tortured soul?

You shook your head, trying desperately to discard those thoughts out of your mind. You stood up, withdrawing your hand from his. “It’s best if we rest now, we have another day tomorrow.” 

He coughs, averting his gaze and following in suit. Jake only nods, settling beside an already snoring Norm and patting the empty space beside him. You walk towards his tensed figure, laying with your back against his. 

You took a deep breath and tried to sleep. 

–

Norm stared with his mouth agape. Whether you both slept already in that position– he didn’t know. Your back was against Jake’s chest, his arms around you tightly. It sparked a familiar sight, almost of him and Neytiri once after their first defiance. You would stir in your sleep and he’d hold you closer in response– scared you’d leave with even the smallest of gap between your bodies, and yet you two slept soundly. 

It almost pained him to wake Jake up, knowing it had been a while since he had seen him like this, but they were on a mission and he’d be damned if would risk the lives of plenty. Norm gently taps him awake, and in an instant, his eyes shoot open. 

Jake notices almost immediately the proximity you both are in. Heat rushes to his ears as he hurriedly retracts his arm and backs away. This was wrong, this was– this was what he desperately yearned for all the years lost from her absence. 

“Jesus Christ, Norm,” He dismissed the knowing glance from his friend and started nudging you awake. “Get up, we have a long day ahead,” 

You woke up, absolutely confused with how they towered you with heavy gazes. 

After short preparations, you mounted his Ikran again and immediately continued with your journey. This time, there were no detours nor rests. Oddly enough, you could feel how his breath would hitch every time you’d tighten your hold around his waist. It was like you burned his skin every time you’d come close. He was nervous– no, frustrated. This was wrong. You were wrong and he didn’t have the strength in him to push you away. 

Finally, you arrived at a make-shift lab, hidden between the tall trees of Pandora. It already seemed abandoned, however; No signs of any crumbs to pick on nor any life. You hesitantly followed after Jake and Norm, trying your hardest not to come in contact with any of the unfamiliar machineries and gadgets. There was a lump situated on your throat while examining the place.

You’ve been here. You desperately try to recall those agonizing days; how they captured you, brought you here– maneuvered your body, but those memories only come in a distant haze. You can’t remember it– you didn’t want to.

“This place has been long ditched,” The coast was deemed clear and for a minute, you felt relieved. “We came here for nothing.” 

“But it proves something, Jake, they’re here again.” Norm tries to prove a point, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Exactly! They’re here and we knuckleheads are exploring an already abandoned lab– they could be anywhere already.”

“We could not have known,” You intervene, trying to defuse the tension. “Let’s not waste time and return already.” 

Before any of you could take a step, static interrupts everyone’s movements. He expected the voice of his sons, probably reporting him of another ruckus they caused– however, what followed made his heart leap out of his chest and caused an old flame to rekindle. 

“Can you hear me, Corporal?” A pause, “Yeah, I think you can.” 

“Listen, I have your children. These little rascals could really use some serious discipline– figured they should know better when they’re talking to someone older.” He laughed on the other line. Jake could hear their voices in the background– his children, desperately calling their dear father for help. 

Then for a second, there was Neytiri. Guilt reprimanded him yet again for failing her– for failing everyone. He deprived his children of their mother and he was miles away today from saving them. A father protects– that’s what gives him meaning; however, with the circumstances that stood laughing at his face today, Jake Sully knew he was already a lost man.

“How are you– where,” He wracked his brain for the right words, the deadly situation slowly getting the best of him. He composed himself with a deep inhale,  “Where did you find us?

“Followed someone, you might’ve met her.” It’s a straight strike to the stomach and he could feel his very breath yanked harshly from his chest. Quaritch clicked his tongue, his eyes darted on the blinking red dot on the GPS from where you stood far far away from them. “In fact, she must be busying you right now, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you slacking.” 

In an instant, his eyes turned to you. If looks could kill, his sharp gaze would cut through your throat with ease. You were certain that his teeth would shatter with the way he clenched his jaw. The aura Jake emitted was murderous; the unknown predators that littered the forest was nothing with the Toruk Makto in front of you, ready to pounce– ready to kill.

“You’re a dead man, Quaritch.” A chuckle from the other line. 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

You were done for.

Tags: @totesnothere04 @ladylovegood-69 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @tsireyassgurl

☆ mauve here! just want to clear a few things up because god damn, this is becoming a bit far from being canon (which actually is, since i’m not following the storyline accordingly) BUT as far as i remember, norm does not own an ikran(??) so for the sake of this series (bear with me) just imagine that he does 😭

this series did not spark joy. i don’t think i did much justice— i’m still really rusty from months of inactivity. this is what i get for putting all my writing on hold

will edit this from time to time, as i do so with my other works because i’m indecisive like that. mauve out >:[

[snezus-christ-risen]

Somehow this two part En//canto fic turned into four parts?? That’s hedonism, baby! This one has some sneeze references but it’s light on the actual sneezing. Consider it the calm before the storm. Sorry for all the Spanish but I trust you’re all adults who can google if you don’t understand lol. Lots of love to anyone who likes, reblogs, or even just reads this and goes about their day. Thank you for partaking in my literary gruel.

Stubborn Things, Part II - Intermezzo

(Part I - https://www.tumblr.com/snezus-christ-risen/747603245128712192/i-am-both-pleased-and-ashamed-to-debut-my)

Things were not going smoothly.

Somewhere between most of the family heading out to town and Julieta collecting the plates to be washed, Bruno absconded from the room. Typical. She only took her eyes off him for a few seconds, but that was all he ever needed. He could still move pretty fast for someone who just returned from a ten-year sojourn complaining of sore joints and back pain.

Julieta tracked him down with help from Antonio and the two rats that had joined them at breakfast. “They’re worried about him,” Antonio reported, when Julieta asked why they were so quick to “rat” out their companion. He stopped and seemed to listen to the impassioned squeaks of the rat riding on his right shoulder before continuing. “And they’re tired of getting scared and shooken around every time he sneezes.”

Julieta couldn’t help but chuckle. If those noiseless stifles were enough to startle his rodents, she couldn’t imagine how they would handle his sneezes at full force. Once upon a time, the youngest Madrigal triplet was notorious for his huge, house-rattling sneezes. There were times when they quite literally rattled the house, confirming that Casita was not immune to being startled. His sneezing was just as much an annoyance for his mother and sisters as it was a source of amusement. They used to joke that as the man of the house, his sneeze had to be imposing (especially since nothing else about him was). Bruno never found it as amusing as they did and was very much embarrassed by his lack of volume control. Pepa swore he was loud for attention, but Julieta knew he hated the scrutiny and would have given anything to be invisible when it happened. No matter how hard he tried, he just never seemed to be able to get a grip on it.

All of that changed the night Dolores received her gift. Nearly blowing out his niece’s newly hyper-sensitive eardrums was traumatic enough for him to commit to finding an immediate solution. Even if that solution was learning to painfully stifle his sneezes for the rest of his life. Dolores learned to control her gift to some degree, but even with her explicit permission, and the reassurance that his sneezes were but a drop in the ocean of sounds that bombarded her daily, Bruno clung to the habit. It became another form of self-inflicted punishment in his extensive repertoire.

Surely the practice was a boon in the walls, but there was no use for it now. His method seemed to draw more attention and admonishments than ever before; it truly served no purpose under these conditions except to self flagellate. Julieta resolved to help him break this behavior once and for all, but she would have to find him and cure his cold first. She tried not to overthink the loftiness of these goals.

At least finding him was easy enough. The rats led them to the downstairs sitting room, where they found Bruno slumped on the floor between the chaise lounge and a bookshelf. It reminded Julieta of how he used to play hide and seek with her girls, tucking himself away in the most obvious of places just to make them laugh. With the hood of his ruana up and most of his face in shadow, his expression was hard to read; she suspected it lacked the mirth those memories carried for them. Julieta reached down to touch his head gingerly, frowning at the heat that radiated from his skull.

“Brunito,” she said, lowering her hand.

It was more of a gentle command than a greeting. He didn’t decline her helping hand, to her surprise and relief. With a groan and some effort - more than it should have taken, even at their age - Bruno got to his feet. Once he was as upright as he was going to get he leaned into her, allowing himself to be guided back towards the kitchen. His docility was convenient but concerning, a sign that he was too ill to flee or put up a fight.

Antonio suddenly grabbed her other hand, uncertain as he looked up at his tía for further guidance. Julieta felt bad for involving him for this long already. She was still working on not treating the children like little adults, as had been their family’s tradición tóxico for as long as she could remember.

“Gracias, Antonio,” she said, ruffling his curls as she tightened her arm around her brother’s shoulders. “You were a big help this morning. Your tío will be good as new once I’m through with him, won’t you, tío?”

Right on cue, Bruno flashed his nephew a weak smile and a thumbs-up. It was all Antonio needed to feel reassured. He stretched his arms as wide as he could to hug his aunt and uncle simultaneously, then climbed up onto his jaguar.

“Feel better, tío,” he said, giving a little goodbye wave as they lurched towards the front door. “I’m going to see if Abuela needs my help now. Los quiero!”

“Gracias, pollito,” Bruno said, his voice straining against something more than just emotion. “Te queremos.”

As soon as the front door closed he folded into his sister’s side with a series of spluttering coughs. Julieta held him steady and rubbed his back, shushing his choked apologies and flinching as her hand bumped against a mysterious lump. No sooner did it disappear than she heard a thump and the scrabbling of tiny claws against the tiles. Malditas ratas en todas partes. Such a nuisance, but she had to admit their concern for him was sweet. She could hear the pitter patter of at least a dozen little feet as she and Bruno resumed their cortège toward the kitchen.

His body felt warm against hers and his collar was damp with sweat. He was sniffling more after his coughing fit; Julieta could feel his nose scrunching up against her shoulder where his face was buried. When they were just a few steps from the kitchen he stopped abruptly, causing Julieta to nearly trip over their feet.

“Estás bien?” she asked, working to regain her balance and his.

Bruno responded with a series of urgent breaths, scrambling to tuck his nose into the folds of his ruana. Julieta winced as his body shook against her twice, both sneezes tightly and painstakingly contained. She found herself blessing him rather than scolding him, and actively suppressing the urge to do the latter. She didn’t have the heart to kick him this time, either, and quite frankly, she was concerned she might hurt an innocent rat if she tried. Instead she waited patiently while he struggled towards a third sneeze that had no interest in making an appearance. Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, Bruno lifted the other to hover indecisively in front of his face. A quick glance at the cloudless sky above the courtyard prompted a few breaths that sounded promising, but ultimately failed to deliver. For some reason he didn’t use that little light trick of his again; Julieta suspected he was growing too self-conscious and chose to accept defeat in lieu of further embarrassment.

“Híjole,” was all he could say as he leaned into her again, sounding as woozy as he looked.

“Pobrecito,” Julieta crooned, handing him a napkin from her apron pocket.

They continued on, Julieta keeping a close eye on her brother in case he decided to pull another surprise stop. He did, but only to dig through a pocket and throw salt over his left shoulder. Then he sucked in a breath, held it, and knocked against the doorframe as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Julieta snuck in a knock or two along with him.

Just in case.

[soupedepates]

Hades the Witch-Monarch belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author, Inédine belongs to @thal-ent

I lay on the bed I can't leave now. My body is too weak, too painful, it burns, my joints ache, and my skin is too much. A sorry sight.

But they come anyway.

José has tried everything to bring me back to health, but sometimes things are broken beyond repair. I never treated my stupid carcass with compassion. Draconian diet, never-ending fasting, exercise. Until there is no more flesh on the bones, on the nerves, on my thin muscles. Staying skinny is a must to survive. They can't catch you if you're not giving them any grip. Opium as pain relief, never mending the wounds of the past. Why should I cure myself, if suffering is the way to remember?

Remember the Abbess. The nuns. The beatings. The Sacred fire. My master. The initiation.

How light little Titanis felt in my arms. How hungrily Inédine's lips were kissing. How warm Hades' small hand was in mine.

I had it coming. "You could live up until what, two hundred, two hundred and fifty years, if you take care of yourself". Miguel was the first to tell me that. And here I am, bedridden at about one hundred and twenty-eight, with José holding my hand and telling me I won't have much time, with my lieutenants of the Spider Brotherhood at my bedside trying to get my favour to be nominated as my heir. With Hades, worried sick.

With in my hands the first drawing Titanis ever gave me.

I definitely had it coming.

Even the foes from the past came. I was puzzled to see Nanthilde. She brushed my hair and helped me puke. Abadian couldn't resist mocking me. "The feared Tarentule, unable to even lift her arm, I can't believe what lay before my eyes!". Just you wait, Traba. You're lucky that son of yours is dear to my beloved Hades. I will be waiting for you on the other side.

My regret, however, is not to see Hades' children grow up. Oh my, I am a grandmother, can you believe it? The kids bring me drawings and paper cranes and flowers and... They grow up so fast... so, so fast.

Galatée stays sometimes. She calls me "mamaig" for old times' sake. "Say hi to Titanis in the Underworld. Tell her I'm sorry. For everything."

Perhaps the last face I am ever to see is Inédine.

"Told you I was gonna outlive you."

"Tsk. Don't act like you're not delighted. Give me my pipe."

"This never helped, you're aware, right?" She says as she obeys. "And it makes you smell now."

"You never hated it."

What were we? She sponges the transpiration on my face with a cold rag.

"You're so hot", she notes.

"Never knew you were into corpses."

"You're being stupid or the fever makes you delirious", Inédine answers with a smile.

I stay silent, smoking, and waiting for my body to get numb. We were close enough for her to care enough to come on my deathbed.

"There's poison in my coat", I suddenly say. "I won't pass the night and I want to rest already. I said my goodbyes. You're the only one I can ask that."

"Lenaig..."

"Do it."

And I add, in a whimper: "please".

So she gets up to fetch it. She finds a phial holding dark pills. Without hesitation, she opens it, and puts one in her mouth.

She comes back and I knew I would die with a kiss. The poison drops onto my mouth in one last embrace. I just have to swallow and it is done. Her hands get lost in my hair for the last time, before ending all of this.

"You don't have to stay with me until it kicks in."

"But I will", she whispers as her fingers grasp mine and I close my eyes.

[hunting-songs]

❛   chest .   place  your  head  on  my  muse’s  chest .   

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ! Nen was born from Emotions. So when Linssen came to Senritsu with fever, exhaustion and limbache so heavy they made him unable to sleep at night, she- caring Senritsu, kind Senritsu, gentle Senritsu- was of course able to lift the exhaustion adn cure the sickness in the matter of just a few minutes that was the song "Field of Spring".

Nen was born from Emotions. So when Basho and a few of the maids woke up the next morning with foreheads so hot it felt like broiling, their eyes dark and shimmering from fever and their heartbeat nothing but a faint flutter like from a weak birds, she- caring Senritsu, kind Senritsu, gentle Senritsu- was of course able to lift the exhaustion and cure the sickness in the matter of just a few minutes that was the song "Field of Spring".

Nen was born from Emotions. So when Senritsu started to cough and just breathing became painful; when the fever bit into her mind with razorsharp teeth and wrapped everthing around her into a muffled veil that even thinking hurted; when her limbs and joints started to ache as if broiling needles were sticked into them and pushed deeper, deeper, deeper ; when she could not eat nor drink, when she could not even lift her head from the pillow without feeling as exhausted as if she had sprinted from the top of the hotelroof down into the lobby as fast as she could, when the headaches became so horrible that she could not even hear past the rushing of her own blood in her ears, she could not just cure the sickness because her Hatsu was boundto her emotions and her emotions were bound to her physical state and she was not well physically nor mentally- not well at all, not at all, not in the slightest- to even think about using Nen.

In the much too early morning Senritsu lay under her blanket too exhausted to stand up and try to reach for her flute and yet too much in pain to even thinnk of falling asleep. The day had passed by as slow and thick as syrup, and with the headaches throbbing behind her skull her ears felt like wrapped in cotton so she could not even hear what was happening in the Hotel around her. She heard footsteps muffled into quiet throbs, she heard voices swirled into eahother into a headache inducing buzzing, she heard heartmelodys mixing into eachother and distorted by voices. So Senritsu flinched when she heard someone approaching her room only when the door opned quietly, barely noticeable at all. "...mhmmmm..?", There was a small smile curling around the womans face, even if her chapped lips hurted and her voice was nothing but a quiet mutter: "...What am I hearing, is that the Nostrade-familys great Waka-gashira checking on a simple little minion? I am honoured..what did I, the simple, little minion, do to have such a high positioned visit? Mhmmm, I could almost think you are favouring me, for sure that would not be proper for the oh so nobilmente Waka-Gashira, woud it be...?"She chuckled over her own joke, but regretted it promply because the noise stitched into her sore throat like a million tiny needles. The woman grunted miserably , lifting a small hand that felt as heavy as if made of stone and pressed the wet close harder against her forehead, even if that cloth had already turned as hot as her own skin. "...my apologize, I am not good company at the moment..." It was dark in the small hotelroom and the light falling on her bed from the open door made her headaches throb heavier. If she would have been healthy Senritsu would have heard Kurapikas heartbeat, if she would ahve been healthy she would have eard him closing the door, walking over to her and setting down a tablet with tea on the nightstand, if she would havebeen healthy she would have sat up herself and elcomed him with a smile.

But she was not and so when the other sat down by the edge of the bed, Senritsu was promptly wide awake as she felt the mattress sink down at one side when Kurapika leaned a knee on it quietly. "..No, wait, -" Senritsus voice was just a quiet mutter as she blinked her eyes open that were sticked closed by sand like from glue. But she did not pushed him away. But she did turned around on her side to see him better . But she did reached out with her hands to brush Kurapikas hair out of his cool forehead with much too hot fingers. But she did just crossed gently her hands in the back of his neck when he slided over to her, leaning his forehead against her chest. Kurapikas heatbeat was loud and calm, throbbing in her much too keen ears as a stark contrast to her own quiet, exhausted heartmelody that fluttered in her chest like a scared bird. Senritsus eyes had already fallen close as heavy as if made of lead when she finally finished her sentences, muttered against the pillow. Her short thumbs stroked lazily over the back of Kurapikas head, soft like a silkveil, barely feelable, barely noticeable at all: "-... you will get sick... Can´t use my hatsu this way." [ @skarletchains ]

[babsbabbles]

Can you tell me about your post about Jacob? Does thinking about him bring you comfort? How? I have a friend who was in a bad car accident recently and is struggling with trusting God.

Firstly, I'm sorry for the slow reply. I wanted to make sure I spent the time to truly collect my thoughts on Jacob and what his story means to me. I don't know how universal they will be in application - in fact I know they wouldn't be comforting to most people, because they hinge on ideas that people tend to find distressing.

I have chronic illnesses that will never heal. They got bad quick after laying dormant in my body for decades. There are no cures. I will never run again because it is extremely damaging. I pay for the weather changing. I pay for the things I eat or do not eat. I pay for staying still. I pay for moving. I will constantly have to barter with a body that is weak and tired in ways few can comprehend to do the things my mind loves. There are people who would call this suffering. Most people would pity me the things I have endured. Most people would hate to become me.

God allowed this suffering to happen to me. God has absolute sovereignty over the universe and he allows it to groan with pains, sin cursed as it is. There is illness and pain in this world because he allows it. He may have built me perfectly, knew me in my mothers womb perfectly, but he has allowed what has happened to do so.

When I finally had awareness of what happened, I was distraught, I was furious. I had done nothing wrong and God had allowed this? Didn't he care? I had worked so hard and fought for so much, I wanted the most of life and I did everything in my power to get it - to show myself approved the way my father always prayed for me - and now even sitting upright puts a pain in my skull that clouds my vision and my thoughts. I demanded the blessings my mother claimed that had been given me when I was young. Where were they? I railed at God about it all.

Jacob was the same. His name was "heel, deceit, supplanting". His story in the bible is full of him lying and being lied to, stealing and being stolen from, manipulating and being manipulated. He followed God where he was lead, and was constantly looking for better. When he left to go face his brother for the first time after stealing everything from him, he ran from his father-in-law with everything that was his, and he sent all his family and possessions ahead of him, and he was alone when God came to him.

Jacob fought God all night. He held tight to God until he was wounded. He wrestled with God until he was blessed and renamed for his efforts.

Jacob became Israel and he was crippled: he limped for the rest of his days. He could no longer run from the consequences of all he had done, but God provided for him, and blessed him, and was there for him anyway.

The gifts God gave him were nothing he could do of his own power, and he could never claim that they were.

So. Even when I was furious and exhausted and full of sorrow over all I had lost and all I could still come to lose because of the things that had happened to me, even when I doubted God could ever have a plan for my life, even when I wrestled God nightly, I could still take comfort in him. The God of the Universe, the Author of Reality, had let this happen to me, but he had never left. If I was wrestling with God, he was still there, still listening, still holding on to me; I was still worth something. If I am still worth something when I am browbeating my own Creator because I think I know better, or I cannot drag myself out of bed from pain, or I am crawling across the floor because dizziness refusing to allow me upright, or am weeping for hours over something that was never mine, or am exhausted beyond my own mortal ken, or yes, when my hips or my fingers go out of joint, know that I don't need to be strong, or fast, or capable, or anything at all. God has me in his hands. He has met me face to face. I have struck him.

He hasn't let go.

[moonygryffin]

I just read about the Lyme disease. I knew that tick bites were bad, but not that bad! I saw many ticks in my village, but I never got bitten luckily. I hope you recover from this disease. Take care of yourself!

Thanks for your words and sorry if you don’t want a long explanation of Lyme disease, but I really like talking about it/my experience with it to help spread awareness! So uh, stop here if you don’t wanna read all that lol

Lyme is actually one of the least bad tick-borne diseases, in my opinion! Which is why ticks are so scary to me. They’re very important to the ecosystem, I would never wish them to be eradicated, but I do hate them and don’t want them anywhere near me lol

There’s basically two versions of Lyme. If your doctor catches it early and you don’t have other major health issues, it can be cured relatively easily with a month or so of strong antibiotics. A lot of people barely have any symptoms at all when its caught this early, usually just muscle and/or joint pain, some fatigue, maybe a fever. My mom actually got bit and caught Lyme somewhat recently and, even tho her immune system is still not 100% from her chemotherapy a few years ago, she completely recovered with only some mild fatigue that went away during treatment. One thing of note is that Lyme’s famous “bull’s eye rash” is not nearly as common as people say it is. You can absolutely still have Lyme disease even if you never developed the distinctive rash. I didn’t, my mom didn’t, and my doctor (who has had Lyme multiple times) has only had it once.

The other ‘version’ of Lyme is way more painful, dangerous, and stubborn. Basically, if your Lyme isn’t caught fast enough, not only can you develop way more symptoms, but it becomes much harder to cure. When I was finally getting diagnosed, I was given this huge like 10 page packet of some of (not all) the symptoms of Lyme disease. It’s very similar to the early days of Covid when it could seemingly cause thousands of different health issues. The most common are still joint and muscle pain, major fatigue, and other flu-like symptoms, but it can also cause sudden hair loss, random numb patches around your spine, burning skin, etc. I had to go to a specific psychologist to get diagnosed with autism, adhd, and ocd because Lyme can mimic adhd lol. Hell, IT GAVE ME OCD! Very crazy stuff. I’ve also heard it can induce way more deadly stuff with certain organs but I won’t go into depth with that here in case anyone has triggers related to that sort of thing.

I’ve gone way further into this than I planned but I think it’s important to put out there because Lyme is really not a well known or understood by both the public OR doctors, in my experience at least. I caught Lyme when I was around 7-ish? I was sick so often throughout elementary and middle school that I’ve been to basically ever doctor in the area and almost every time they said I just had some virus and that was it. It was only during high school, about 8 years later, that I finally went to a doctor (my current one) that even knew enough about Lyme disease to test me. And the only reason he knew was because he’d had it himself! The Lyme was deeply in my central nervous system that it took years of very large, very bad tasting antibiotics to cure. And, as I learned 2(?) years ago now, it’s made a resurgence. And I consider myself lucky because I truly believe if I didn’t get diagnosed for it when I did, I’d be dead by now with how it was attacking my cns

So, yeah, I think it’s important for people to learn at least the basics of Lyme disease just in case because it’s a very annoying and sometimes deadly disease that, at least in my experience, not many doctors actually know anything about

Also fun fact: Ötzi the Iceman, one of the oldest mummies in the world, had Lyme disease!

[health-and-fitness-freak]

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[spainsola]

"Unwind and Destress with Thai Massage at the Best Spa in Sola"

INTRODUCTION:

Stress and strain have become our regular companions in the fast-paced world of today, silently doing harm on our bodies and minds. Let me introduce massage therapy, an ancient practice that has been used for thousands of years as a cure-all for wellbeing and relaxation. We shall explore the amazing advantages, rich history, and fascinating science of massage treatment as we uncover its mysteries in this essay. Prepare yourself, then, for an exciting voyage into the realm of massage therapy!

After collecting all this, we at Blue Sea Thai Spa came to the conclusion and establish, best spa in Sola to provide best massages where we have a staff of expert and certified therapist to perform every massage perfectly to satisfy you.

Understanding Thai Massage:

Though it may appear to be a recent fad, massage therapy has a long history. Travel back in time to discover the beginnings of this therapeutic approach. We will shed light on the distinctive massage customs and methods that have been handed down through the ages, from traditional Chinese medicine to the graves of the ancient Egyptians. Discover how different cultures recognized the great therapeutic potential of massage treatment long before modern science arrived and adapted it into their respective medical systems.

Process of Thai Massage: A careful consultation and assessment are the first steps in any effective massage therapy session. In our Spa in Sola we carefully evaluate the client's preferences, medical history, and unique concerns. This enables our expert massage therapist to tailor the method and design a unique treatment plan that meets the demands of the client. Then a necessary warm-up is done before beginning massage therapy, just like before any physical exercise. In order to warm up the muscles and encourage relaxation, our therapist will lead you through a series of mild stretches or movements. This guarantees that the muscles are receptive to the therapist's touch and helps the body get ready for the next massage. Then our therapist applies some essential oil on your body parts for smooth massage and uses varieties of massage techniques with help of their hand, forearms, palm, fingers, thumb etc. During this session you can feel much kind of massage methods which makes you feel deeply relaxed. You can discuss with our therapist to focus more on specific part if you feel discomfort.

In the end the massage therapist will gently transition the client back into a peaceful state. Instructions and suggestions for post-massage care are given with the intention of maximizing the advantages from the therapy. It's frequently advised to stretch, drink plenty of water, and engage in self-care routines to extend the benefits of the massage.

How the Magic of Thai Massage is Beneficial?

Increased Range of Motion and Flexibility: Thai massage targets muscles and joints with a sequence of stretches and yoga-like movements. This is advantageous for people who are stiff or have limited mobility since it helps to improve flexibility and range of motion.

Relaxation and Stress Reduction: Deep relaxation is facilitated by the rhythmic pressure and mild stretches used in Thai massage. Endorphins are released when the body is massaged, which elevates mood and lowers tension.

Pain Management: Back pain and tension headaches are two chronic pain disorders that Thai massage can help with. Stretching and acupressure work together to help lessen pain and release muscle tension.

Better Blood Flow: Thai massage improves blood circulation through the body's manipulation. Better circulation improves the flow of nutrients and oxygen to tissues, which benefits general health.

Improved Focus and Mental Clarity: Thai massage at our Spa near Sola incorporates both physical movement and relaxation, which can improve focus and mental clarity. After a session, many people say they feel more present and focused.

Enhanced Immune Response: Some studies indicate that regular massage, including Thai massage, may benefit the immune system; nevertheless, additional research is required. The general function of the immune system may be enhanced by the relaxation that the massage induces.

Conclusion:

Massage therapy is now a necessary tool for leading a balanced, stress-free life rather than just a luxury for the wealthy. We Blue Sea Thai Spahave examined the great science, extensive history, and amazing advantages that this age-old practice provides in this blog post. Therefore, the healing wonderland of massage treatment is the only place to go if you're looking for a magical touch that harmonizes your body, mind, and soul! So don’t wait to visit our Spa and take massage.

For more information: https://blueseathaispa.com/