#to be able to swallow without it creating a disturbance in the flow of water

[asthedeathoflight]

You guys wish you were as cool as me (someone commented that i made very distinctive drinking noises when drinking water and could do foley for someone drinking and this made me so self conscious that i learned how to drink completely silently)

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (07b)

word count; 7053

summary; as the tragedy of the chemical fire begins to wind down, the aftermath leaves the entire team in shock, and in need of a little comfort.

notes; this is the second half of part-7, I just know you guys are going to love it by the end.

warnings; minor character deaths, reference to panic attacks, vomiting, chemical fires.

Finally, the dam broke, and you tried to hold in the tears that wanted to release, the boy on the sheet twitching aggressively in his unconscious state as his body struggled to keep functioning. Your hands felt heavy as you pressed your hand over the neat stack of cards, dragging your hand over the pile and spreading it out to display all of the colours, before your fingers were brushing over what you were certain was the first of this colour card to be issued yet today.

A black card, feeling ominous in your hand, the weight of the card feeling more like bricks as you lifted it up, and you allowed yourself to shed the first tear. You didn’t want to tell Thomas, to let him know the real extensions of what you were seeing, but there was nothing for this boy that you could do. He wouldn't make it to a hospital or into surgery, his injuries were far too extensive, and so you let your legs stretch out from in front of you, the black card looped around his neck as you tried your best to make him comfortable.

The wipes you used were soothing instead of antibacterial, cooling skin that had been destroyed by flames, red and bleeding as you tried to soothe him, wiping away the traces of his injuries to try and clean him up.

There was a hope, that family was coming for him, that you were cleaning him up for a reason, helping him to look more presentable as you wiped traces of black ash and dust from his skin, all mattered in brown-red stains and sweat, tears under his eyes, and you removed it all.

It was moments like this that you had to remind yourself why you did this job at all, working along him carefully all the way to his fingertips as you wiped him down, adjusting the torn shreds of his clothes around him to hide the extent of his injuries as best as you could once you’d padded the deep slashes across his torso, bandages already beginning to seep through with red, but you adjusted his shirt down to over them. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it was radically better than it had been.

Tanned flesh was beginning to lose colour and his body motions were beginning to grow fatigued, and once you had adjusted him as best as you could, you were simply left to wait, sitting by the young boy’s side, and whispered reassurances into his ear with every twitch he made, sometimes resurfacing long enough to feel his pain, back arching and screams of pain leaving his lips, and you bit back tears, before letting them flow freely once again when his pain carried him back a state of illusion.

You loved this job, because in 99 out of 100 cases, it worked out. You helped pregnant women escape elevator shafts and father’s life long enough to see their baby born too, and you helped kids escape a life they didn't want to be in, and have the courage to create a new path. You helped nurses of amnesia patients escape burning rooms when they’d given up all hope, and you saved the elderly from suffocation on the gas leaks within their own homes.

You were damn good at your job, but sometimes, there were moments like this one that made it all that much harder.

Making a mental note of where you lay within the chaos, you hauled yourself up onto your feet, families weaving around as they all made to seek out their family members, and you were glad to notice that less and less people were being removed from the building. As you weaved through the channels made in the grass, the green stands worn away under multiple foot and wheel prints into muddy dirty tracks that would take weeks to fix, you made your way towards the ambulance you’d arrived in.

The weight of your body was heavy, every footfall feeling like it weighed you down more and more, your arms hanging by your sides, and you knew that tomorrow you would be riddled with pain and aching muscles, the over-exertions, everything from fixing up simple wounds, to hauling around men who were 200lb of pure muscle to help move them into recovery positions or lift them onto stretchers when they were too weak or injured to do it themselves, workmen who were twice your size, and the strain was making itself known.

You were numb, for now, and it was a sweet and blissful relief to know that the racing of your heart was creating enough adrenaline to dull every pain you had. Well, except for the headache that had been throbbing behind your eyes for hours now and making you feel a little nausea, but you could handle that, as long as you were able to finish this day without anything else. You must’ve dealt with over a hundred people at least, possibly more, the workload doubled with Newt too, and you were ready to crash into your bed, dreading the hours of shift you still had remaining.

The flames were beginning to be tamed, the blue tint to the smoke was fading as the chemicals were burned away, thick clouds of black smoke as the orange glow died down, beginning to be extinguished. There wasn’t much equipment that you had needed before, and yet now, you were grabbing ahold of a heart rate monitor and an oxygen tank, the mask to match it, and one of the stretcher pillows that had been discarded to the front of the ambo’ to make more room on the trolleys.

Hooking the monitor under your arm, you moved it to sit comfortably balanced on your hip, before you were letting out a sigh, your fingers hovering over the drawer of medicines and needles that you hated going into. Newt had stuck a small skull and crossbones sticker over it, one that had an eyepatch and a pirates hat on it, a joke between the two of you after you’d gone through the drive-thru at McDonalds on the way back from a call only a few weeks ago, getting a collection of pirate stickers in a happy meal box.

That drawer was only ever dug into if all options were out, if you were simply trying to relieve some of the pain that a patient was in, because they were in agony, and wouldn't make it to the hospital. Enough to bring down someone's pain levels, to let their heart relax, because once their brain stopped fighting to keep them alive and hiding the pain, they often didn’t drive too long after that.

Swallowing thickly, the jars within rattled a little as they clinked against one another. Shifting through and turning them in your hands, you found the container labelled with the medicine you were searching for, a fresh needle in a plastic packet, and you held both of them in your other hand, adjusting the equipment in your arms as you hopped down from the vehicle once again.

Slamming the doors back shut and waiting to hear them lock behind you, your eyes flickered over the scene. There were still a lot of police officers; operating crowd control, handing out water bottles and guiding members of the family through the crowd. You would give it time, not injecting the poor boy with the medicine until it all became too much for him, giving him the best chance for his family to get here before he passed, but you couldn't wait long.

Your feet dragged a little as you walked, toes scuffing against the muddy grass, and you were beginning to lose all strength, forcing yourself to go on, muscles clenching to keep them tight before you dropped everything you were holding entirely. Arriving back at the scene, the boy was panting rapidly and lightly, eyes moving beneath closed lids and jaw clenched so tight you worried he would crack his teeth, fists clenched by his side as his body remained rigid.

Placing down the kit gently, you let out a little sigh, his eyes cracking open to turn to look at you as he heard the sound.

“I-It hurts!”

You swallowed, knowing there wasn’t much more you could do as his voice cracked. He was covered with burns, and there were clear signs of internal bleeding as the organs beneath charred skin went solid, there was bruising along his body in many places from the broken bones under his skin, and with the wheezing he let out, never quite able to catch his breath, you were certain that the cracked ribs had punctured one of his lungs. “I know, kiddo, I know.”

He cried out again, a wet sound as he coughed, his entire body jerking at the sensation, and you cupped a hand behind his head, fingers finding the sticky wetness of warm blood at the base of his neck as you tried to rock him forwards, letting him cough until splatters of blood were hitting his lap and the plastic, splattering a little across you as he wretched, his entire body trembling.

When he finally managed to stop the movements, he was even more out of breath than he had been, and you lay him back down, using a glove-covered thumb to wipe at the corners of his mouth and clear away the blood and spit mix that had accumulated there. He had wretched, several times, though no bile had risen, his body reacting in every way it could now as organs began to fail and shut down one by one, and you hated that there was nothing anyone could do but sit here on watch.

Minute felt like an eternity as you hooked up the heart monitor, turning the volume down to soft beeping, as not to disturb anyone else, an uneven and erratic rate with a blood pressure concerningly low, and you were glad that the average eye couldn't read these figures, because it read like a horror story in a medical professionals eyes.

Just as you finished hooking the boy up to the machine, an oxygen mask sitting over his face, fogging up lightly inside as he took gasping breaths of the raw source, you felt a shadow fall over you, covering your eyes from the light before you were looking up.

The mother, you could tell immediately, from the sullen look in her eyes, and she didn’t look at you, her gaze sweeping over the boy who lay beside where you knelt, before she was turning, a quick call to her husband, and just like that, you were crowded by family. There were three younger siblings, and he seemed to be the eldest of them all, a pre-teen with tears already in her eyes as she looked at her brother, a child who couldn't be older than eight staring in confusion as they tried to grasp what happened, and a toddler, a fist knotted in their father’s jumper and balanced on his hip.

Sinking to her knees beside her son, she didn’t sob or scream, she simply let out a shaky breath, lifting her hand to brush dark curls out of his face, looking down at her eldest child as he began to slip away again. Setting the youngest down, the toddler wobbled on unstable legs to their mother, sitting down in the grass beside them and reaching a hand out with useless babble to place a chubby hand onto the boy’s arm, squeezing a little and cheering as they lived within a bubble of innocence, unaware of what was happening.

“Can you tell me what’s happening?”

A deeper voice, the father, and you turned, nodding your head to him and shifting yourself to pick up the needle, tearing off the plastic top and producing the needle from inside. “I’m just going to give him a shot of morphine, and then we’ll talk.”

He only nodded, watching as you lifted the container, pushing the tip of the needle through the rubbery covering and drawing back on the syringe carefully to fill the needle with the approximate amount, tapping the tip and checking it over once it had the right dosage within it. Finding a spot on his arm where there was still enough intact flesh to find a vein, you pressed your finger down over the pale skin, the blue vein underneath disappearing for a second, refilling weakly but marking its place, and you lined the needle up.

An uncomfortable pang shot through you as you injected the needle into his arm, pushing the pad of your finger down against the handle of the needle until all of the medicine had been unloaded into his veins. It took a few seconds to travel, and you watched him, studying his reaction to be sure, before all at once his muscles loosened and he sagged with relief into the plastic tarp as the pain finally faded away, fingers flexing around his mother’s as he squeezed with what little strength he had left.

Standing up and wobbling a little, the father followed you a few steps away from the group, and he glanced back over his shoulder to his family, hands sticking into his pockets, before he was letting out a heavy sigh. “My boy, he’s not going to make it, is he?”

“No, he’s not.” You whispered, and the man only nodded, a slow exhale from him as he processed that news, before tears were building in his eyes, and he began to crumble a little. “I gave him a shot of morphine, it’s slowed down all of his functions now, and taken away his pain. He can’t feel it now. I wish there’s more I could have done, I’m sorry.”

“My wife saw the news, saw the explosion. She was so worried, straight away.” A twist of guilt moved through you, making you sniff a little as your own lower lips wobbled, and you tried to choke down tears. “I told her she’d be okay, and that he was just an intern. There was no way he was close enough to the real stuff to be badly injured.”

“My friend found him, carried him out about fifteen minutes ago. Gave me enough time to let you get here to say your goodbyes.”

“You tell your friend ‘thank you’ for me, and for my family.” You nodded, knowing how much it would mean, and he finally let his tears slip free, making it harder for you to contain your own emotions. “He’s the oldest of all four, I don’t do much for a job. I’m just a mechanic, and his mother works at a supermarket, but he was going to college. He studied biomedical science, he was going somewhere.”

You grimaced, an unstable breath sucked into your lungs, before you were blinking quickly and looking away. There was bile rising in your throat, your hand gripping at your stomach to try and contain it. “I’m going to go now, and let you say your goodbyes. I’ll return soon, okay?”

You both knew what ‘soon’ meant, and he nodded, stepping away to talk to his wife, and a look seemed to be all that was needed to communicate between them, before the first of a loud cry was leaving her lips, and that was your breaking point. You shouldered through the people, mumbled apologised on your lips, you did feel bad for pushing through them all, but you could barely choke down the vomit rising within your guts before you were stepping out of sight, hunched over at the waist as you let it go, hand reaching out for supper as you found the tree.

Nails scraped against the bark, the pads of your fingers stinging at the rough pressure, and you shuddered as you heaved, throat stinging and eyes watering as you struggled to even breathe. It felt unending, time warping around you as you realised it had only been a half-hour since the boy had been delivered to you, and that he wouldn't make it to the hour marker.

A hand came down to rub at your back, and you gasped for breath, wiping the back of your hand, covered by your sleeve across your mouth and taking a moment to yourself. When you were finally able to stand back up, stomach feeling a little more stable as you tried not to think about the dying boy lest your nausea return, you twisted to find the person who had come to comfort you.

"Officer Paris." Your words couldn't get any higher than a whisper, and even that cracked, and his hand fell back down to his side as you wrapped your arms around yourself in comfort.

“Saw you take a sudden dash, got a little worried.”

You nibbled on your lower lip, a foul taste lingering in your mouth, and he offered up a water bottle for you, a weak laugh on your lips as you accepted it with a whispered ‘thank you’. As you took deep swigs, forcing yourself not to gulp as you slowed your racing heart, you watched as the fire teams began to load the equipment back into their trucks slowly, all the work they could do having been completed by now, and you knew that there was still a lot of work left for you to do before you’d get to follow after them.

“Everything okay?”

“Not really.” You whispered, screwing the lid of the water back on and holding it to your chest, using the cool liquid within to try and focus your senses. “We’re going to need a coroner down here. I know there’s some up in the building, but we have a kid, he’s not going to make it.”

“I’ll find one for you, okay?”

You appreciated the gentle tone of his voice, lowering your head to rub gently at your temples with one hand. “I should get back, we need to start getting people out of here.”

You could hardly focus as you walked back to your stations, everything seeming to slip from focus into some kind of daze as you tried to focus on what you were doing. You retrieved your bag, scooping it up from the floor and swinging it over your shoulder. There were coloured cards waiting to be collected, torn plastic bases and litters of water bottles in the mud, as well as lost personal belongings that had been forgotten in the rush.

Many people were still crowded around, waiting to be excused and waiting to get rides in an ambulance, the reds fading away into a majority of only green and yellow cards waiting, and you praised your lucky stars that you had only needed to give out one single black card today, because you weren’t sure that you’d even still be standing if there had been any more.

Flexing the fingers of your hand slowly, you focused on the sensation, head rolling from side to side, before your shoulders followed, and you loosened every single muscle you had for a tranquil moment, before setting to work. The sun was already beginning to fade on the day now, moving towards the horizon as the lighting dulled, hours having passed between caring for patients, and your first call was to begin getting people signed off.

Leaving your bag in the flooring of your seat in the ambulance, you collected a stack of forms and papers, as well as pens, taking them with you as you began to make your rounds of anyone who was left. As long as they were sentient enough to fill out discharge forms after you ran a final assessment, you could let them leave on their own as long as they had somebody with them, family or a friend, even just a neighbour or coworker, but it helped to clear out the crowds.

Newt joined you after an hour or so, having done his last assessment with the final patient, all the fire trucks being long since left, leaving police cars and vans scattered around, ambulances coming and going, and you had to ensure not to focus on the black vans with wide embossed lettering that brought a more sombre mood. Newt seemed to sense your pain, because he disappeared for a small while, returning not long after, and as you packed away equipment, the family you’d helped were now gone, the equipment you’d left with them was loaded back into the ambulance, and where words failed you, the look your friend gave you said it all.

He knew how much you’d suffered, he knew it would only cause more pain to go over and gather the equipment once the boy’s body had been cleared, and so he took care of it for you. A crew of policemen were on clean-up, as well as that of volunteers, only the shining lights of headlights and camera crew leftover as the light began to fade into darkness, and the scene was somewhat clean.

Lost belongings were piled into large plastic boxes with the police, and you filled out what felt like a bibles-worth of paperwork with the coroners, signing your name so many time your signature now just looked like a scribble rather than your name, before you were finally collapsing down into the somewhat uncomfortable cushioning of the ambulance’s passenger seat.

Silence took over your both, and as the truck started up, you left your head sway back into the headrest, eyes slipping shut as the rumble of the vehicle lulled you into as much relaxation as you could get.

As the adrenaline began to die down, you were able to feel the ache in your body, the pain that was seeping into every fibre of your body, every nerve and cell, exhaustion taking over. Raising a hand up to cover your mouth as you yawned, Newt chuckled softly, leaning over and patting your knee, before he was changing gears, and twisting on the radio to fill the cabin with the sounds of the classical music radio.

The trucks were parked away neatly within the garage bay when you arrived, the main doors up to anticipate your arrival, but the space was unusually empty, though it was understandable. After cells, members of the team could often be found milling around, sitting at the squad table and chatting, or working over the truck to check and clean equipment, filling the silence with laughter and jokes as they got along, but as you hopped out of the vehicle the second it was put into park, you were met with silence.

The echo of your door slamming shut reverberated around the empty foyer, Newt’s soon following, before he was rounding to your side, a sad look in eyes that normally sparkled brightly, and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry about the kid. I really thought we were going to make it through the day without a black card today.”

“Did the coroner’s say anything about inside?”

“I didn’t even want to ask. We did everything we could, everybody did.” You swallowed thickly, nodding your head, and letting Newt loop an arm over your shoulders to pull you into his side, your head falling to his shoulder, and dragging your aching feet underneath you as you followed after him towards the locker room. You were stained with dirt, blood and grime, and you hoped the water was hot enough to soothe you and wash away your worries, already thinking about the muscle-relief body wash that you had hidden on the second shelf in your locker. “We could get in touch with the hospital, and see if everybody is okay?”

“You could call that hot doctor.” Newt squeezed you a little, a humourless laugh leaving you as you caught sight of his smirk, little energy to reciprocate the joke, but appreciating the way he lifted the mood nonetheless. “What was his name, again? David, Denny?”

“It’s Derek, and you know that.”

“Derek, that’s right.” He sighed, dreamily as he pushed open the door to the locker room, and the smell of multiple body-washes as well as the lingering heat from steam, signalling that the rest of your team had already been through the room and cleaned themselves up. Grabbing the towel and the bag of toiletries from your locker, you kicked off your boots, flexing your toes as your feet were liberated, and letting your socks follow. You were too lazy to even scoop your clothes up from the floor, stripping down to your underwear before wandering away to the shower, and closing the curtain.

Removing your final garments, you reached a hand back out of the closed stall, dropping them to the floor beside where your towel was hanging up, and twisting on the shower. Across the room, in the men’s showers, you heard Newt let out a loud and dramatic groan, a giggle on your lips as he did.

“I have never appreciated hot water more.”

“Speak your truth, Newt.” You teased, hearing his laugh as you stepped under the stream of water yourself, face tilted up into the spray and eyes closing, letting yourself be ridden of the day’s stresses. You didn’t want to look down, and see the colour that the water would run, you didn’t want to see any of it, the blood or the mud, you just wanted to let it all disappear, without having to acknowledge any of it again. Keeping your eyes closed, you reached for the wash-proof bag, unzipping it and feeling inside, fingers dancing over the bottles within to tell their shape.

Shampoo first, scrubbing through the tresses of your hair to remove the built-up grime, feeling the ponytail you’d put it in all slip away, the dull pain on your scalp soothing as your fingers massaged gently through your hair, pressing into the sore flesh, and you finally let a satisfied noise of your own bubble up. The squeaking of the doors on the other side of the room signified that Newt was finished long before you were, padding of wet feet, and as you moved onto the conditioner, you could faintly hear the slamming of his locker through the water as you washed the strands.

You didn’t hear when he actually left, the thundering of the water as it ran over your heart, the pounding of your own heartbeat inside of your head, but you sensed when he had left, the room feeling a little colder when you were alone. If a few stray tears escaped you to be washed away by the water when you scrubbed down your body and let the herbal soak absorb into your muscles, then nobody had to know, letting them be shed in honour of the boy who’d lost his life while trying to improve it.

You worked slowly and silently, wrapping the towel around yourself, and finding it a little easier to breathe as you wiped a space free in the steamed up mirror with your hand to be able to see. It was like a weight had been lifted from your chest, leaving you able to take your breaths more smoothly, less ragged and strained, and your headache was beginning to fade. You felt better for being clean, your entire body aching but a little more relieved and nowhere near as tense, and you sighed, hands gripping the edge of the sink.

It was hard to forgive yourself sometimes when you lost a patient, it was never easy to watch someone die, but you’d done everything you possibly could to make it easier, and thanks to your team, he’d seen his family before he passed, and that was a blessing that made everything feel easier to bear.

Taking care of your skin and running a comb through the towel-dried strands of your hair, you were almost falling asleep as you dried it. The repetitive humming of the hairdryer was enough to make your eyes close and mind stop spinning, coming to a halt as everything began to slip from consciousness, your muscles feeling heavy for an entirely new reason, and you jerked yourself back away several times.

Following it all, you grimaced at the taste in your mouth, the bitter aftertastes of your physical reaction to the day still lingering, and so you were generous with the dollop of toothpaste you served yourself as you scrubbed lazily at your teeth and rinsed out your mouth. Scooping up your clothes and pulling on your spare set, you shoved everything grubby and used into your bag to take home, swapped with your fresh clothes, but you didn’t get dressed entirely.

Deep down, you knew that Vince wouldn’t mind if you slacked on your uniform just this once, and so for comfort, instead of pulling on another smart button-up uniform shirt, you went for your hoodie instead, the worn logo of your college in the top corner as it faded, a hole in one sleeve that your thumb would fit through, your hair pulled from underneath the collar to sit limply around your shoulders.

You didn’t care for boots, either, two pairs of socks to keep your feet warm, before you were pulling the sleeves down over your hands, and wandering away to the main room, to try and find your team, and seek reassurance and company within their presence. It was unsettling quiet in there too, only the sounds of Newt’s pen tapping on the table as he worked silently on the puzzles in the newspaper, and the sounds of the almost muted television that Thomas was staring at, one of the older ‘Star Wars’ movies playing on the screen, but from the way he was staring at it, you knew his mind was miles away.

There were only seven in the room, including yourself. Gally and Chuck were playing chess at the kitchen counter, Newt doing the puzzles and Thomas watching television, and Brenda was sitting at the other end of the table with Minho, the two of them each with their headphones in and listening to music, but sitting close enough to one another to seek comfort, and your lips flicked up a little, happy for them, taking it at their own pace. You weren’t sure where everyone else was, but logically, you would assume that they would be sleeping the day away.

Moving across the room, you reached immediately for the kettle, ruffling Chuck’s curls as you passed by, and he huffed under his breath, but a smile was on his flushed cheeks as you glanced back at him, a friendly wink for his complaints, before you were filling the tank up under the tap. Once it was clicked on and beginning to boil, you began to search through the cupboards for what you wanted, smiling as the ingredients came together.

Placing a pan on the stove, you flicked the flame onto the lowest setting you could get, and adding milk to the pan to begin to warm through, without boiling over. Opening up a bag of marshmallows, you popped on into your mouth, chewing at the squishy treat happily, and opening up the cupboard filled with assorted mugs, finding your favourite.

As you found the one you searched for, you placed it down on the counter, before another was following, and another, until there were seven mugs lined up in front of you, all mismatching in size and colour, some with pictures, patterns or writing. A generous spoonful of chocolate powder into the bottom of each one, your personal collection of hot chocolate ingredients, but you were willing to share just this once.

With a splash of boiling water, just enough to dissolve the powder, you topped each one up with the milk as soon as it began to froth around the edges, heated all the way through, and leaving a gap at the top. A sprinkle of marshmallows on the surface of the steaming beverage, and a spray of whipped cream into a pretty swirl, you decorated the top of each one with a few more marshmallows and a dash of chocolate dusting.

They weren’t perfect, there were drips of chocolate and cream along the edges, and they certainly weren’t anything you would serve at a restaurant, but as you placed one down in front of both Gally and Chuck, the looks on their faces were more than enough to confirm that they didn’t care about the appearance.

There was surprise on their features, brows raising as they looked between you and the hot beverages, whispered ‘thank yous’ as their fingers wrapped around it, pulling the mugs towards themselves and staring down at them, small smiles taking over. Minho had the same reaction, and Brenda stopped her music long enough to wrap you into a tight hug as you offered one to her, before Newt was sighing out happily, his head rolling back to look up at you when you'd placed a mug down in front of him. He’d given you a cheesy grin, and told you just how much he loved you, before taking a large gulp, and cursing a little as it burned his tongue, but not letting it deter him from repeating the action, and getting a print of whipped cream along his upper lip to be licked away.

Taking the last of the drinks to be given away, you made your way over to the couch. Thomas had seemingly had the same idea as you, a jumper on and the hood pulled up over his head to hide his face, and he jumped as you placed a hand onto his shoulder. You squeezed in apology as he turned to look at you, the sombre look on his face lightening a little bit as he tried to offer you a smile, twisting to face you a fraction more.

Rounding the edge of the couch to hand him the drink, surprise flickered over his features, before he was taking it into two trembling hands, and bringing it up to his nose to sniff lightly. He poked his tongue out, fishing a marshmallow and a scoop of whipped cream from the top, and he hummed contentedly at the flavour.

“Thank you.”

His voice cracked as he spoke, and you hoped the smile on your face didn’t look too pitying, only able to nod your head as he stared up at you, blowing on the steamy liquid as the cream melted, and your fingers rubbed gently at his shoulder where you still held on, before your hand was sliding away, stepping back a little, and his eyes snapped up from the drink to you, brows furrowing, before he was reaching a hand out, wrapping around the wrist that had been closest to him, and bringing you to a halt.

“Will you sit with me? Please?”

“Of course, I will. Let me just go and get my drink, okay?” He paused in releasing your wrist, fingers unwrapping slowly, and he took a sip of his hot chocolate as he settled back into the cushions. Grabbing at your drink, Newt watched as you went, his brows raising as you caught his eye, and you shrugged, the porcelain hot in your hand as you held onto it, almost enough to burn, and you switched to gripping the handle, swirling it a little to mix the melted cream into your drink.

Sinking down into the couch beside him, he shuffled a little closer, your legs folding under you until his thigh was pressing to your knee as you faced him, mug placed down on the table, and he leaned forwards, matching the positions, before he was running a hand over his face, and letting his gaze find your own.

“Are you okay, Thomas?”

“Not really.” He mumbled, looking completely and utterly exhausted, and you felt sorry for him, true empathy surging through you, and propped your head up on your hand, elbow on the back of the couch, as you looked at him. “You know, I think you lied to me. I think you told me what I needed to hear in the moment, but I don’t think it was the truth.”

You sighed, a short exhale as you tried to find words, and his lips flicked up at the sides, head dipping for s second, before he was looking up shaking his head slightly.

“I’m not mad. You knew what was best for me. I needed you, and you didn’t fail me. Thank you.” He whispered, the words just for you, and your lips pursed, feeling a little flustered at the way he stared at you; earnestly, eyes searching your own. “Will you tell me what happened, though?”

“You don’t want that, Thomas.”

“I do. Please, just tell me about the kid.” His request was desperate, and there was a silver lining to the incredibly dark cloud, thunder and lightning swirling within, and he choked down the lump in his throat as your shoulders sagged.

“He went comfortably. He didn’t feel a thing. I promise.” His eyes closed, a shaky breath let out, and his face screwed up a little as he tried to hold in his tears. He sniffled, before letting out a weak sigh, knowing that he was failing, and as he blinked, his lashes came back wet, a large tear falling along pale cheeks, before another was following. “His parents, they saw it on the news. They came right down, and his mother held his hand as he passed. He got to see his siblings, and his mom and dad. He didn’t die alone.”

He let out a weak cry, and you heard the shuffling at the table, the rustling of the papers as Newt moved, but his chair didn’t scrape across the floor yet, clearly waiting to judge whether or not his best friend needed him or not first.

“His dad was so proud of him, Thomas. He was the oldest of four, he was making all of them so proud, and thanks to you, he passed on peacefully.” Honey eyes that were encased with red opened up to meet your gaze, lower lip wobbling a little as he released it from where it was held between his teeth, and in this moment, he was weak. He wasn’t the lieutenant of the team, he wasn’t a leader or a fighter, he was just a man who’d experienced a tragedy. “You saved him, Thomas. You made his last moments something peaceful and meaningful.” You paused, waiting a second longer, letting him calm himself. “He told me to thank you, on behalf of his family.”

“He did?” You nodded, and his lips flicked up at the sides, a hint of a smile. Lifting a hand, you wiped away his tears, brushing your fingers over wet skin, before you were cupping one of his cheeks in your palm, and his eyes fluttered shut, leaning into your touch as he let out a shaky breath. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

He smiled, softly, twisting his head to press more into your touch, and you swept your thumb over his face, tracing soft and damp skin, the pad brushing lightly over the upturned tip of his nose, and his face scrunched up a little at the ticklish feeling. “How do you always know just what to say to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know, it just comes to me, I guess. What you need to hear, it’s always just the truth.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled, lashes fluttering as his eyes remained closed, relaxing into your touch, and the cushions on the other side of you dipped. Glancing over your shoulder, you chuckled a little as Brenda sat down, leaning over to wrap an arm over your waist, her head coming down to rest on your shoulder, and she turned the volume on the movie up, cuddling into you a little as she sought out comfort too, a chuckle on your lips as she did.

You shuffled, sitting to face her a little more, and Thomas moved with you, keeping his face tucked into your hand, before Newt was following. On the other side of the couch, Newt slumped down, patting Thomas on the back lightly, before kicking his feet up on the coffee table, and reaching across to take Thomas’ hot chocolate, the brunette completely unaware of the theft that had taken place. Gally sat in the armchair, and Minho sat on the edge of the couch, arm stretched out along the back of the couch behind Brenda’s head, and Chuck sat on the floor.

Nobody said anything, nobody needed to, as you all simply watched the movie that had been chosen, letting the day be washed away as you served out the rest of your shift, ready to go home, and let a bad day be washed away by many more good days to come. Pulling your hand back for just as second, Thomas let out a noise of discontentment, his eyes cracking open to peer at you, a frown forming on his lips.

Lifting up a little higher, you pushed his hood down, adjusting it around his shoulders carefully, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you as everyone else watched the movie, leaning in just an inch, nothing noticeable, but enough to keep the bubble between you both, and your fingers laced into his hair.

A rumbling of bliss left him as your nails scraped lightly at his scalp, playing lightly with his hair to soothe him, the strands still very faintly damp from his shower, and he simply stared at you, head tipping into your hand as his body began to loosen of tension.

“I got you, Thomas, don’t worry.”

He didn’t respond, the first genuine smile you’d seen since the beginning of the shift being offered to you, his eyes closing, and he lifted a hand to wrap around your wrist delicately, fingers smoothing up along the back of your palm, resting over your hand and holding it lightly as you played with his hair. Turning your head to the movie, your attention was split, between what was happening on screen, and more overwhelmingly, with the intense feeling of belonging that was flooding you, never having felt more welcome than you did right now.

[evolutionsvoid]

Maw of Despair, Keeper of the Mournful River, Cocytus is one of the five aquatic beasts that dwell within the rivers of the Underworld. She lurks in the freezing waters that share her name, living in the heart of misery. She crawls along the bottom, marching along on some mournful pilgrimage. It appears she crawls up and down her river endlessly, wallowing in her own sadness and wailing the song of despair. What this achieves is not known, but all who dwell in the underworld knows what will happen if they disturb her journey. If one is to approach this miserable river, keep your ears open to the haunting melody of her cries. Even when she is submerged deep in this icy river, her song of sorrow can easily reach the surface for all to hear. If one can hear this tune, then leave quickly and quietly. Disturbing the river or causing any sort of commotion upon its shores may catch her attention and break her from her singing. With her song cut short, she will grow even more miserable and bitter, causing her to rise to the surface. Emerging onto the frigid shores, she will bring her sorrow to those who disturbed her, as well as to any poor soul still in the area. The River of Lamentation is where she lives, and she embodies every aspect of it. Once free of its waters, everyone will see that the miserable river was actually dampening her powers. With no fluid to hold her song, the droning despair of her melody is greatly increased and becomes dangerous to those exposed to it. When she sings, the air and music that flows from her mouth is ice cold, able to slice through the thickest of coats and chill right down to the bone. The temperature of the area around her will begin to drop drastically, turning sweltering summer days into a frigid winter night within minutes. Those caught in this place without proper protection can suffer from hypothermia quite easily, but that is not the worst thing to deal with. As she sings, her insidious voice and song will creep into the minds of those who listen. As they absorb her tune, they shall gain the sorrow she wails about and begin a slow descent into misery. Depressing thoughts and lifelong regrets will begin to grow in the minds of her audience, and they will have a hard time thinking straight as they sink into despair. It is important that one fights against these thoughts and focus on either leaving the area or dampening her song. Those who fail to fight it will not be able to escape her effects, as they will be too busy being miserable than to realize they are freezing to death. Those who fully give in will be frozen solid, transformed into icy weeping statues. When she wanders into the mortal realm, her path will be cold and dead, leaving an icy picture of a land's final moments. Though Cocytus dwells in misery, she is not blind to the world around her. It appears that she can see the sorrows of others, and that is how her songs cut so deep. It also seems that she can see the hearts of those who create such misery, as she grows angry in the presence of such wicked souls. When she senses one who has lived a life of cruelty, she will burst forth from her river and give chase. Though she is not the fastest, she can vomit forth her wailing tendrils and use them as grabbers. Seizing the offender, she will drag them into her maw and swallow them whole. Once ingested, the condemned will be trapped within her gut and be forced to soak in her despair. As they melt away, they will be exposed to every ounce of misery and sorrow they caused others in their life. They will feel every bit of this agony, and they will break. It won't be long before they are transformed into one of her weeping tendrils, forced to live with this sadness for the rest of time.       As one can expect, Cocytus is a rather sad individual. Her tragic singing is a constant, and her few moments of silence are just mournful meditation or guilt-ridden sleep. Talking or interacting with her is almost a fruitless endeavor, as she cannot find a moment of joy or interest. As the living embodiment of woe, she brings every conversation and chat to a miserable level, always finding the rotten core of every topic. It is said that even the most tortured souls of the realm are cheerier than her. Due to her powers and general attitude, she is often avoided by many who dwell in the underworld. There is, however, one individual who can change her disposition. One of the other keepers of the rivers, Lethe, is able to snap her out of this depressing state. Since Lethe emanates forgetfulness and is able to infect the water around her with memory loss, her presence around Cocytus can relieve her of some of this misery. When exposed to this water, Cocytus seems to forget these troubles and lose a part of this great burden. While she doesn't instantly become smiles and sunshine, this bit of upbeat and actual pleasant conversation is a huge improvement. In these precious moments, Cocytus can relax and enjoy a sliver of life, but this won't last forever. Eventually, the two must part and return to their respective waters, and all the haunting thoughts will come flooding back. It seems this misery will hit even harder than before, as Cocytus admonishes herself for ignoring these troubles and tragic realities. On a lighter note, those in the underworld have running debate about Cocytus. The burning question is: which way is up for her? Due to her boneless anatomy and adjustable limbs, no one is really sure of which side of her is the up and which is the down. Her body plan is mirrored and seemingly identical, but folks believe there has to be a definite answer. The problem is, she doesn't seem to mind being right side up or upside down. If she is flipped over onto her "back," her legs just flip down and she carries on just like normal. So which is it? It isn't the most serious of debates, but most people talk about it because it gives them something more fun to think about rather than focus on the living pile of depression that haunts this realm. ----------------------------------------------------------- Here is another Beast of the Infernal Rivers! No matter what, I am pretty sure I will always find a way to put in a sea cucumber creature.

[darkenedreaper]

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part 4/?

As you were being rushed down the medical ward on a stretch with wheels, Maria was by your side, sticking with you in case your arc powered off which would result in your heart failing and could result in your dying. She was whispering reassurances only you could hear, and her hand was stroking hair away from your eyes. Maria was very formal and professional woman at work, but you had been friends for so many years and you had become someone she would call family. Your head was tilted towards her and an oxygen mask hid some of your restraint and beaten face, but blood coated the ring of the mask. You were then wheeled into an operating room, most likely to hook you up and check your heart and stitch up the wounds that seeped with betrayal. Maria was told to leave the room and she didn’t without fuss not wanting to cause disturbance around you.

Meanwhile, Natasha was rummaging her way through hallways as she nearly crashed so to every person who walked by her. She had a million things to say to you, a million things to apologise for. Her heart ached with how she realised she had been treating you, the way she abandoned you and hadn’t even double checked instead at the time she was blinded with rage and hurt. And all she could see in her mind, was you lonely figure roaming in the kitchen at night as you always did trying not to bump into the team as you didn’t want to piss anyone off at 3 in the morning.

She hadn’t been able to sleep, and she shrugged it off from it being a hard mission, when deep down. Somewhere deep where she couldn’t admit it. It was because of the absence of your arms. The loneliness they created. Bruce couldn’t hold her like you would, your hand would be wrapped around her middle, your arm tucked underneath hers that rested on top of your as her had was wrapped around your wrist. Your legs would perfectly curl up and bend into hers as hers would do the same. Your warmth would radiate into her back creating a feeling like home.

Then she saw a skinny, hunched as tired figure walk into the kitchen, a figure that jumped as soon as it saw her.

“N-Natasha hi.. umm can I just grab a water?”

She knew you hadn’t eaten all day and she could sense your fear of being shouted out or perhaps being pushed backwards out of the kitchen. Instead she just shrugged. She flicked the page of her magazine yet her eyes were trained on you.

“Great thanks. Umm.. I’ll just get it and head off.”

She noticed how your voice had got quieter and she noticed how quick your actions were to grab a bottle of water.

She was disgusted with herself it took this many months, this amount of pain for her to realise she still loved you and always had. She was so focused on getting to you, she nearly fell over once a nurse had stopped her in her tracks whilst nearly falling over herself. She had tried to push Natasha over to the waiting area while Natasha was shouting your name frantically and as she was receiving no information and no response back from you it worried her more and she could feel the tear stinging in her eyes, threatening to slide down her cheeks. Maria had placed her hands tightly on Natashas arms and lead her to the window where they could both see your nearly lifeless body laid on the table as doctors swarmed around you. The rest of the team had also appeared in the room leading in quietly. The room was tense, there was a lot of upset and guilty flowing throughout the room. No one spoke, no one whispered. They just hoped. The doctors tried looking at your reactor and it was all looking positive. Thor had received an urgent message from Steve as he contacted Thor in Asgard when he was being away his shield.

Until that dreadful sound of a heart going into a cardiac arrest, then the killing sound of a flatline. Maria tensed up and Natasha just stared at your body, her nails digging into the little ledge just below the window. Steve swallowed hard, and he frowned and his lips went upside down. Bucky had the same expression only his eyes were shut. Tony was leaning against the back wall so nobody could see his tears. Thor had a strong grip on his red clothing and he too had tears in his eyes. Clint had his head down, he was close to getting upset, but he tried to not make too much sound as he was sure he’d sob. Bruce had his arms folded, head down in a corner. He hid his hands away as he couldn’t bare to look at them. Couldn’t bare to remember the punches he laid at your face. Wanda and Vision were holding onto each other, Vision holding onto Wanda more so as she had started to cry the minute the shield was struck down into your reactor.

The machine had confused to flatline and it was about a minute before they could bring you back. They all looked up towards you as they heard the, faint but there, heartbeat. They wanted to smile, cheer but they couldn’t.

The doctors advised them all to give you a few hours of rest as right now you were in critical condition. Natasha had begged to see you. She even had written pages of what she wanted to say. They had all made their own seats and space in the waiting area that was a few doors down from your room. Natasha was even woken up by Tony as she had fallen asleep on the floor, her back to your locked door. Her eyes bloodshot and her tears had stained her cheeks.

By now the news had headlined that you were in a critical condition as you continued to lay in the Avengers compound, med bay.

From what they could see, you had a straight dent that went across your arc reactor and skin scratched from where his shield had broken through your suit and into your skin. Steve turned his head away from the scene, Bucky trying to comfort him.

It was about 19 hours since they had been waiting. People came in, and people left. Some people in suits came in, and hadn’t left yet. Perhaps they were in the same situation as themselves. They had practically dragged each other along to go and get something to eat yet all of them refused to sleep. They had gotten changed at least. Natasha put on one of your hoodies she always kept in her wardrobe. Bucky wore his red jumper you’d gotten him for one of his birthdays. Tony had put his brown bracelet that you’d gotten him which represented his family. And Steve had put on his gold chain that had a little logo at the bottom. It was half of the Captain America logo and half of yours. Steve had always admired you for your soldier like skills and honoured you for your past time in the military which is why he was one of the closest to you.

After they had refreshed a little, they all went back to the ward only to find Nick Fury standing there. And his face was... troubled? But he had anger residing in his for how they treated one of his best agents. Natasha swallowed her anxious feelings back down to the pit of her stomach. She knew something had gone wrong.

“Agent L/N has been kidnapped. Possible by Hydra. We’re doing all we to bring her back, but right now chances are slim.”

He walked away after his sentence had been spoke. They all stood still frozen in one place. Tony literally ran away to his lab as Bruce followed, hoping they could mess around with your laptop perhaps see if they could trace your arc reactor. Steve and Bucky remained there. Thor had to sit down still recovering from the shock. Natasha nearly collapsed but her knees kept her up, just about. A single tear fell down her face, as she whispered to herself,

“Y/N..”

@natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @confusinggemini612 @imnotasuperhero @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz @fcbarcelona-and-marvel-4-life @gaytrashgoblin @capmarvelq @nat-romanoffdanvers @fayhar @lesbian-x-blackwidow @emilyprentisswife @captain-josslett @oblivious-horny-lesbian @trikruismybitch @summergeezburr @username23345

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a fic for Onyx/MC involving Onyx's pregnancy cravings?

Brief warnings of past abuse.  Implied past miscarriage.  SPOILERS FOR ROUTE.

Written by: @evoedbd Craving

It was midday when Onyx emerged from her bedroom, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. The sunlight played across her platinum hair, causing the soft, meadow green streaks to glisten like freshly growing life. Much like the life within her. Just a few months in and Onyx had taken to pregnancy as she took to everything. Gracefully. Beautifully. With the support of her family, the Assassins, Onyx was thus far cruising through the trimester. Sure, morning sickness was an absolute bitch, but with Cali holding her hair back every morning it wasn’t so bad. And not being able to drink copious amounts of alcohol was playing some havoc on her, but Wrath’s baking, Malakai’s uncanny ability to sniff out the best milkshakes, and Darius bringing home endless snacks and magazines from undisclosed locations more than made up for that. Even shopping with Ripley was fun, finding new clothes and materials to replace her dwindling wardrobe. Cal and Avi were horrible influences on her baby collection, both constantly accompanying her to the toy stores and bookshops. Cal had even bought a tiny little guitar, one which Avi was beginning to practice lullabies on. It was enough to melt Onyx’s heart.

She padded across the common area towards the kitchen, barefoot in a pair of shorts, swaddled in a signature Tie-Dyed hoodie. One which was not part of her usual wardrobe. She couldn’t help it. The moment her eyes had cracked open it was like a string between her and the hoodie, a magnet pulling at every sense in her body until she surrendered. She couldn’t feel at ease until the unnaturally soft material was wrapped around her until the scratchiness of worn armpits and elbows chafed at her. Until she was surrounded by that scent. Of bike oils and sand, mixed with an unnamed element that made her heart sing in contentment. It smelt so fucking good, enough that she turned her head in burrow her nose into the hood and sniffed, inhaling as much of that scent into her lungs as she could. A hint of cherry blossom sent her into a moment of sheer bliss. The hoodie was just so good. So perfect. She didn’t even feel guilty about her theft, about leaving the current Envy assassin without a jacket. It wasn’t like Cali actually needed it half the time, she was hot enough, visually and literally if you asked Onyx, as it was.

Before she could make it to the kitchen, a soft sound caught her ear. A breath. Then it played again, stemming from the couches. Onyx couldn’t help but smile, pulling the hoodie just a little tighter around her shoulders before stumbling upon the controlled chaos.

The table was a mess, covered in stacks upon stacks of hand-drawn diagrams and crisply written notes. Writing Onyx could barely understand. It didn’t take a genius to recognise Cali’s flowing concoction of lines which were meant to replicate letters, something that likely would have fit in a med school. Each stack of papers had a name at the top, one for every member of the troupe. It took a few moments before Onyx was able to make out the notes scribbled across the pages, which only made her heart swell with joy. Across them were personalised notes, each a set of instructions regarding pregnancy. Notes to Cal to watch his snark if he wanted to keep his tongue. Demands for Darius to never comment on Onyx’s growing belly under any circumstances if he wanted to remain able to act on his lust, along with a sloppy sketch of some scissors. A gentle reminder that Malakai wasn’t allowed to squish Onyx with hugs, nor take her to packed clubs. Ripley had a whole page explaining that adding honey to everything did not make it suddenly magically healthy.

Quietly, Onyx read them all, her cheeks flushed at the evident care and dedication Cali had put into them. She snickered at notes, warmings such as “Do not squish Onyx, Biceps-sarama.” Or “Do not encourage Onyx to underdress as much as you!”. Eventually, her eyes drifted back to Wraths, specifically to one page marred with blocky letters underlined thrice.

NO PUTTING RAW FISH AND/OR ALCOHOL IN CUPCAKES UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!!!

ALCOHOL + RAW FISH = NOT CUPCAKE FILLINGS

Onyx couldn’t help but laugh, dabbing at her eyes as delighted tears began to fall. Cali’s passive-aggressive notes and demanding were positively endearing, especially knowing how apologetic Cali was likely to be in person about them. Truthfully, the threats were comedic coming from the second shortest assassin. Especially for the vision laid out before Onyx.

There was Cali, sound asleep across the couch, twisted, exposed skin glowing a faint, washed-out brass in the sunlight.

Her bare feet were kicked out over the arm of the couch, a toe or two bent from repeated breaks, heel and balls of her feet callused from the blisters she’d earned riding the canyons. One chipped toenail, from a sparring accident, taunted Onyx’s inner fashionista. Made her itch to buff it out. It was only the blues and purples forming beneath the nail which gave her pause; colours which littered the fine skin across Cali’s shins, up to a spectacularly scuffed up knee. All the little sun worn scars mixed with the fresh graze, a tapestry of her determination. Mental and physical strength, which showed in the relaxed definition of her thighs. Legs which allowed Cali to balance her bike wheels upon the finest wires, let the woman flip with Onyx and play games of chase in the skies. The closest thing to wings a human could have. Twisted as she was, the waistband of her denim shorts rode low, hanging enough to expose the band of her underwear off a sharp hipbone. Low enough for Onyx to have a glimpse of strong core muscles before the simple grey shirt concealed Cali’s ribcage. Bones that could be felt, yet not actively seen. Onyx let her gaze travel slowly, taking in every bump and bruise across Cali’s muscled shoulders. That sent a bolt of pride through the dragon of the Envy Trio. Cali’s muscles had grown since they’d first met, and that growth was directly tied to Onyx’s training. To Cali wanting to stride alongside the small bombshell. Cali had grown stronger to support Onyx. To be there for Onyx. How could Onyx not let herself look? Even if it was for just a few moments? How could she feel anything but pride and admiration for the definition she was the reason for?

She didn’t even realise that she’d been literally purring until her rumbling seemed to wake the sleeping woman. Even before those deep, dark eyes opened, Cali’s lips peeled into a small smile; the meaning of radiance, like a beam of sunlight through the clouds.

“Onyx… you’re purring.” Cali noted softly, as if her sleep husky voice might disturb the quiet. Onyx swallowed. Shuddered. The rasp added to Cali’s usually sweet voice, the weight to the tones, it was unexpectedly appealing. A siren’s song calling Onyx to sleep. A tease. No… not a tease. A promise. An eventuality. An invitation. It was an invitation Onyx couldn’t resist. Cali had barely even moved her arms before they were full of a tie-dyed goddess, shielding her from the harsh world.

Onyx was a dragon, she had learned the depths of her fire in human death, thought she had understood warmth. Yet, Cali once more proved her a fool. The mystery of how Cali’s arms could accomplish a warmth that burning stone could not was beyond all science, magical and mortal. It was beyond reason and madness both. It consumed without destroying, converting fear and shame into courage and pride. It was love, a treasure beyond anything Onyx had comprehended feeling as a human, let alone as a Dragon. A simple hug, delivered in such a sleepy manner had Onyx cooing in bliss, wiggling her smaller frame into the scoop of Cali’s body. A perfect fit. Something written into the heavens, woven on looms of fate, carved by Hephaestus. Something so perfect couldn’t be an accident, no way in any hells could anything convince Onyx that Cali hadn’t been created for her. To protect and love, to offer that in return. Gods, Cali did that so well. This compassionate hurricane of a woman was a shield against the world when Onyx needed shelter. Water when Onyx had dehydrated herself shedding tears for a man who mistreated her. Yet, Cali was not immovable. She cried, she cowered and screamed in fear at times. She was fearless, showing every emotion so plainly, each a little slither of starlight Onyx greedily claimed. Cali, the saviour of Onyx’s soul, was also the greatest treasure to protect. It was befuddling how someone could be strong enough to not only need to protect, but admit they needed protecting.

“Are you hungry?” Cali questioned softly. Onyx simply let a content purr escape her, snuggling deeper into that unique warmth. Honestly, she could eat, but that wasn’t what she needed that very minute. Somehow the combined scent of oil, sweat and cherry blossom was making her entire world creep closer and closer to a standstill. Each blissful inhale had her senses settling, body relaxing in a way nothing could ever accomplish. Not a lovely bath. Not an exhausting night of lust, even with Lust’s friends. A hug. Her world boiled down to a hug… and that playful nudge to her cheek.

“I could probably fry some bacon in chocolate sauce. Maybe add some fried pickles in that Raspberry ice cream you’ve been loving the past few weeks.” This time, Cali’s suggestions earned an actual groan. Whether delight or disgust, even Onyx didn’t know. Her face had screwed up, nostrils flaring as she burrowed her forehead into side of Cali’s neck. Warm. Soothing. Dragging her back towards a land of bliss… disrupted bliss.

Onyx almost whined in frustration, comfort turning overbearing within a blink of an eye. That voice. Cali’s goddamn voice. Onyx couldn’t tell if she wanted to fall asleep to the melody, stay awake to listen as she ate every ungodly concoction her body craved or try to make Cali’s voice break with less wholesome things than snuggling. It was pulling at her, dragging her in a thousand directions until she was more frayed than the hem of Cali’s jean shorts. Loose threads Onyx realised she was twirling her fingers though. Each movement had her fingers brushing across Cali’s rich skin, dancing across the defined grooves of muscle… another realisation. Cali was flexing. No, not just flexing. She was giggling. Laughing. Shoulders shaking beneath Onyx’s torso.

“If you want to be ready to tell the others, I’m not on the menu.” She teased; her voice disappointingly clearer. Sleep had lifted, taking that romanticised rasp. Even without the gravely nature to her voice, Cali’s voice was a Siren’s song. One luring Onyx’s focus from one appetite to another. Touch reminded her of her warmed body, then voice lured her out of the beginnings of lust, back towards practicality.

“We could order Sushi.” Onyx finally suggested, cursing how her cheeks flared at the twitch of Cali’s lips. Indulgent. Admiring. Again, Onyx sighed blissfully, letting herself sink back into the welcomed embrace. Her fingers wove through Cali’s, thumb skimming the ring Cali proudly wore. The layers of twisted metal.

“The chocolate sauce is in the fridge. Or I could melt some dark chocolate.” Cali’s offer was so genuine, so utterly casual Onyx almost forgot how disgusting fish and chocolate was to anybody who wasn’t pregnant or deranged. When Onyx paused to think on it, she was sure even the most dangerous of lunatics would flee the usually vile combination. Not Cali. Every single time, Cali braved it. With a bright smile, she’d bathe her shrimp or raw fish in chocolate sauce right alongside Onyx. When the stares became too much, there was Cali, loudly proclaiming her love for the combination. Making such a spectacle of herself that Onyx’s weird cravings were forgotten.

Cali was so different to Dorran. Cali was there, eating every lunatic concoction fearlessly, ensuring it wasn’t lethal. Even going as far as to make the other trope members taste test everything before allowing Onyx to eat it. Where Dorran had tried to drown it out, Cali drowned in Onyx’s pregnancy. She made Onyx the centre of her world, of her galaxy even. Everything had Cali’s support, her enthusiasm. Even the rare arguments when Onyx felt a little too babied, which never lasted long when she heard the genuine fear in Cali’s voice. The agony held within two little words. One single line.

You died.

In that line, Onyx saw how broken Cali could become. Just how deeply their bond ran in their veins. That. Perhaps it was that intimacy Onyx craved the most. Cali, no matter how, was the only constant Onyx clung to. From her scent, to her warmth, to her voice. Her touch. Onyx never realised that cravings could be more than food, could be so consuming and subtle. Contradicting and complimentary. For so long, validation had been her desire. For somebody, anybody, to care for her as if she was worthy of it. When she’d kissed that girl in the Casino to distract a crowd, she’d never believed her deepest cravings would be sated. Yet here she was. Here they were. Just beginning to learn the true meaning of craving.

[ghostsofruefell]

The Other World in the Woods

Hello, I was in a big magic mood the past few days and felt like writing about something happening in a different part of the MoR world, so enjoy this erotica about a Fae and a Witch (approx. 5k words under the cut)

The air is thick with the feel of unreality as the trees part to immerse you within the bubble where the magic is heavy enough you can feel it upon your skin and even deeper weighing down your soul. The trees form a perfect circle around this abode, not even a twig protuding over an invisible line drawn in the grass. The complete, utter silence in this clearing is a pulsing in your ears.

Before you is a house, although some might contest that description, sitting atop a tiny hillock in the center of the perfect circle. It looks like nature has reclaimed it, or it was always a part of nature. Like a massive tree trunk, bark is its skin. Roots all twisted up feed into the ground like veins. Gnarled branchs burst from the walls just to twist and turn back in, hugging the body they come from. The circular window you see is half-swallowed by the bark and so covered in grime you're not sure you could see inside if you were close enough.

The moon, full as a dinner plate, looks almost too big and seems to reflect the sun's shine directly onto the house like a mirror-made spotlight.

Doing your best to steel your nerves, you step up to the first stones. Like a moat, the hillock is surrounded by water. Even the grass is soft and wet, squelching as your boots pull themselves from where they're sunken into. This "moat" looks man-made, lined with purposely cut rectangular stone, and the crystal clear water lets you see the moss creeping up between.

It's only deep enough for the water to come up to your ankles, but you don't fancy ruining your boots anymore than you have with this journey into the forests and so you opt for the stepping stones leading an uneven path to the other side. You hop from one large, flat stone to another and, as your feet touch down, you swear you hear in your head a little chime play, like a piano key hit with every step. The pleasant, yet simple melody leaves you wondering if that's just a childish part of your mind or if it's actually real. Maybe this place still has some whimsy, after all.

The door is before you before you know it, but rather than knock, you stop.

Your heart is thundering against your ribcage, so hard you're starting to doubt your decision to come here. Your hand raises to rest tentatively on the door. If you thought the radiating magic was choking enough, your palm feels, beyond this dark, dark teal wood, an even greater magic flows in and out of this reality and the next, like a torrent you realize you're about to unleash.

There's a knocker.

It's disturbing, a gold-painted, ornate square and, protuding from it, a gold-painted hand, upside down with palm facing out like you're taking someone's hand if you want to enter this home.

But it's a knocker. That means... you're welcome to knock, right? That's what it does. That's its sole purpose as a knocker.

You swallow the rambling thoughts alongside the lump in your throat and slide your hand into the knocker's, doing your best not to let yourself notice the almost-living warmth that fills your palm as you do so. Wrapping your fingers around it, you rap its knuckles against the door. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then you step away.

You stand there for what feels like a quarter of an hour, but you rationalise must have been mere seconds, and just as you're about to turn and retreat with your tail between your legs, there's a click of a doorknob turning.

The door creaks open, the sound almost like an ominous croaking in someone's throat. But you realize that might just be the anxiety saying that.

There's nothing but darkness beyond the threshold. Or so you thought.

As your eyes adjust, you see the figure seeming to glide from the darkness. You can barely make out any features but a chance of light glances his face, revealing only half of it, but still not enough to put any logic to the formation of his visage.

A pearly, pupilless eye looks you over and you get the distinct feeling it trails down and up from head to toe before finding your face again. His expression sours.

"Witch," the deep, gravelly voice spits. "I've told your fellows I'm no longer donating bones. The regrowth has slowed too much."

"Witch...? How did..." The words spill breathless from your mouth without a thought.

You see the shift of shadows proving wry amusement crinkling the skin by his eye.

"The Call of After crackles upon your skin." His smile widens enough you see the full lips pulling outward at the edge. "But, the Father Fae, its voice is weaved deeply inside of me, so of course I can see that."

In just an instance, all trace of amusement and civility drops away. His voice rumbles.

"Now. Leave.”

The door trembles, ready to be slammed.

"I'm not-" you find yourself stammering, taking a step forward with a hand outstretched you've resigned to the risk of being broken with this incredibly stupid, risky movement.

Yet, it seems to have paid off, as the door remains open and a certain curiosity eases his expression

You swallow and try again. "It's not bones I seek. I don't plan to use you for an elixir or... anything else."

The hint of a face you'd been trying to make out vanishes and it takes you a second to realize he's tilted his head. Silence follows but he doesn't leave you wanting long.

"Hm," he hums.

And the door swings wide open.

The darkness that engulfed the interior was a falsehood as the opening reveals gas lanterns mounted strategically along the walls to illuminate the living space just right. But that's not what you're staring at.

The man, the Fae before you is easily a foot taller than you. In a battle between the warm, flickering orange of candelight and his skin, somehow the blue iridescence of his flesh is winning. His hair, pulled into a half-down style, flows in soft, pearlescent waves over his shoulders and down his back. Ears lengthened and pointed to the ceiling hug the sides of his head. Dark, stiff clothing covers the details of his muscles, but is tight enough on his broad chest and thick biceps to let you know they're there beneath.

His handsome face, with a straight nose, full lips, and well-manicured eyebrows, is marred on the side that hadn't been revealed to you. A massive scar that seems to have lost the iridescence of his skin tears itself down from his forehead, over his eye which seems just a touch narrower than the other, his cheek, and the corner of his mouth, all the way down to his chin.

You're shocked away from drinking in his mesmerizing appearance when he speaks.

"Come inside, witch." His voice isn't so welcoming, but he glides to the side to allow you by.

You hesitate for a brief moment, but noticeable enough that his eyes twitch narrower and that alone startles your feet into carrying you past him, even as you nearly choke transitioning from Out to In.

The door slowly swings closed behind you, without physical input, sealing you within the Fae's home.

The interior is much larger than the exterior of the house betrays. It must be a trick of reality. Candles lining the path he walks ignite with the perfect timing of his footsteps, like a trail of fire following him as he leads you deeper into his dwellings.

That torrent of magic you felt outside must be responsible for this space and that's why that pressure in your chest tried to kill you as you forced your way within. Now it's settled around you, no longer an oppressive force pressing in on you, but just the soft swirl of magic in the air like scattered petals picked up by a stray breeze.

It's almost... a comfort.

Until something moves on the shelf beside your head and your attention snaps to that. It's contained in a jar, but the spiky, shifting, dark mass inside tumbles over and over as if trying to find something past those glass walls it can never again get to.

Beside it, your curiosity piques, something is hidden beneath a velvet cloth but that's not enough to smother the light whatever it is is emitting. You can only imagine how bright it'd be, were it uncovered.

Your gaze is drawn forward again as the short hall opens up to a circular room. The shabby, unrefined exterior of the building was more than a farce. Smooth, detailed, carved and polished wood and the hard edges of a sophisticated influence make up the architecture inside. But you care more about the chaos before you than the interior design.

It's like a library but one made to fulfill every witch's dream. Shelves upon shelves of oddities to be studied or used in elixirs. Glass bobbles of beauty belonging to the night hang from shiny, delicate threads. The desk that sits in the center is overflowing with the scatter of papers and the magic scholar within you jolts with excitement at the very idea of being able to read what After-related secrets they might detail. The knowledge of the Fae... how you wish to devour it to your heart's content. Isn't that every witch's wish? Think of the spells...

A clearing of the throat snaps you out of your awe. The Fae has drifted around you to stand between you and his treasures. Sheepishness overcomes your demeanor but he just seems amused. You idly wonder if he's invited many witches into his home and witnessed the same wonderment as your eyes zero in on the spiral staircase over his shoulder, leading up to another floor. You definitely pegged this as a one-story cabin from the outside. Curiosity pricks the back of your mind again, not at what that second floor might be and if there's any others, but at how much power must be used to create a space like this.

Finally your eyes slide back to his patient face, prompting him to speak.

"What is your name?"

Your lips part.

Then shut again.

That twinkle of amusment in his otherwise pearly off-white eyes returns, his own lips thinning to a wry smirk.

"I'm no Faerie, witch. I'm not asking you to give me your name. Or your soul." He practically scoffs at the notion. "I'm an Omni Fae; I don't need it. Just share this knowledge and I will return it."

Your instincts say this is a bad idea. But, they've been saying that since you left your house and you've been ignoring them this whole time. So, you do. You tell him your name with just the slightest hesitance weakening your voice.

To your surprise, his smirk fades to a genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his harsh features suddenly seeming so friendly with just the one gesture. His voice softly echoes your name and it's never sounded more magical resting on anyone else's tongue.

He turns to the desk he was leaning against, fingers with an inhuman grace fluidly sliding crooked papers back into their neat stacks.

"My name, witch, is Yewfie Frosthart," he speaks with his back to you and from this angle you finally take note of the thin, blue tail spouting from beneath the back of his coat, hanging down past his knees with the slightest sway. It ends in a tuft of fur that same pearlescence as his hair. "However, certain comrades call me Needle."

He slowly raises his head, then straightens his shoulders like something's clicked.

"Or, I suppose, I can say that..."

He spins on his heel so fast you jolt. His rough voice booms with the authority of a Rakian General.

"Kneel!"

Your mettle snaps within you like no more than a pitiful twig. You can feel it, like an arrow shot straight through the base of your skull. Your knees buckle and you don't even flinch at the pain as they hit the wood floor.

"Huh." It comes out more like a huff of amusement from his lips, which open to a loose smirk, almost like he wasn't expecting that to work as well as it did. "I see you have submissiveness inside you. Quite bold, then, for you to have stolen that power you wield as a witch."

Your vision shakes, as do your cold hands as you stare up at him in awe. He knows too much without you saying anything. He can do too much. This Fae is far more powerful than you were told and this was a bad, bad idea... right?

His biceps bulge as he crosses his arms over his hard chest. He shakes his head, hair moving in shimmery waves, as if reading your thoughts—but that's impossible, right?

"I'm not here to pass judgement, submissive." His voice has softened once again as he leans over, but doesn't take a knee, in front of you to brush his calloused fingers along the line of your jaw. "Just tell me what you seek and I might be able to provide."

Your voice catches in your throat, nothing more than a broken moan making it past your trembling lips. You swallow, as difficult as it is, and try again.

"Kn... knowledge," is the whisper that breaks past the oppressive dominance radiating off this Fae towering over you. Your arm feels heavy but you force it to lift, to reach for him. "I... I seek knowledge."

"Knowledge..." He tastes the word thoughtfully. "Knowledge has a price, you know."

His eyes narrow at you. "And I don't think you're ready to pay my price."

Your hand shoots out before you realize, the heavy burden that weighed it down completely forgotten in your desperate instinct to reach for him, keep him with you. Your other soon follows and your fingers latch on the leather belt wrapped around his hips, leverage as you shuffle forward on your knees.

"I prepared myself," you say almost like a plea, and it must show in your eyes too. "Before I came here, I prepared myself."

That causes him pause, a pregnant pause that hangs between the two of you as his muscles barely shift, the slowest turn back to you. The look on his face... like a shark that's smelled blood. And then his large hand lands gently atop your head.

"Prepared... mentally? Or physically?" He smiles with the words, a dark glint in his eyes. Your fingers tremble.

"...I prepared myself," you repeat and his fingers curl, gripping your hair.

His other hand reaches to his belt.

"Very well, witch."

***

The candelight has dimmed significantly, either through his will to set the mood or the passage of time. Your jaw is tired by now, but you're pushing forward.

It doesn't feel like a chore. It feels like a rite. You can't stop until he's pleased. The taste that fills your mouth, layers on your tongue, is unlike anything you've experienced before. It's musky, it's masculine, it's sexual, but it's also inhuman, pleasant, and powerful. Your tongue craves it, lavishing the underside of his lengthy cock and worshipping the blushing purple head now shining with a mix of pre and saliva. Your hands move on their own, weighing and massaging his hefty balls, those delicate orbs that contain the source of your sweet craving, and sliding up and down the part of his shaft you can't cram down your throat, making sure not a single inch of his incredible cock goes unattended.

He sighs in pleasure, graceful fingers playing through your hair to pull it out of your face. His length jumps in your mouth. His abs shiver like he's feeling it. But he's not cumming.

You pop off, panting like a dog, and take to filling your hand with his cock. Soft and wet skin, it slides through your fingers with the movements of his hips, the franticness of his pulse, brought on by multiple hearts, twitching against your palm.

He curls a lock of your hair around his finger. "That's good, little witch," he murmurs, the growl of his voice having dropped enough to a deep something almost soothing and sweet.

"Is it?" you pant.

"Yes..." He smiles. "I seldom have company as good as you're being right now. I can sense your eagerness. It energizes me."

Then why aren't you good enough to make him cum? His cock feels hot as you press your lips to the side of it in a kiss too loving to be given to something so lewd. Looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, you let your desire leak out in a whisper, "I want you to cum..."

His eyebrow quirks, eerie smile unmoving. "Is that so? This was just foreplay. You are very good at it, however..." He grasps the base of his cock, bouncing it against your willing tongue. "Then, keep going. I'm close. I'll let myself this time. Go on."

You need no more prompting. Revitalized, your hand redoubles its efforts, closing your fingers around his shaft like a makeshift cocksleeve for him to fuck. Your mouth kisses and sucks gently at the skin of his sack, willing the churning balls contained within to let loose already.

His fingers move from your hair to curl around the nape of your neck, encouraging you to lavish the base of his cock with your tongue. His ombre claws scratch your skin as his grip tightens ever so slightly, a grunt escaping him.

You can't get enough of this taste. You wish you could force his length down your throat, but you know you'd choke on his size, so you have to settle for lovingly polishing his shaft with your mouth and feeling his intense pulse fluttering like a hummingbird shot up with caffeine squeezed between your fingers.

He lets out a shaky breath, leaning back on one hand. "Oh... So good, little witch. Don't stop," he moans. You can't tell if he's putting you on, or if this is what it means that he's letting himself feel it this time.

Two of his fingers press against the pulse behind your ear and, as he whispers for more, you realize you're moving your hand in ways you hadn't thought of, reacting to what he wants without him having to say it, like the remaining half of his soul is reaching deep within you to connect with yours, encourage to slow down and speed up, tighten your grip as you slide your hand up and loosen as it falls back down, to tease the underside right below the head with your thumb. You're rewarded with copious amounts of shimmering pre, the involuntary twitching of his cock, and his breathy groans that send shivers down your spine.

"Like that," he gasps. "Keep going- n- ah- oh Gods." He releases your nape to wrap his hand around yours, tightening your grip for you, and forcing your hand to pump faster and faster. His lips pull back in a snarl, eyes shutting as his head tilts back. "Gods- yes- yes- y-"

His whole body jerks, hips jumping against your hand. He groans, stilling your hand at the base of his cock. It twitches in your grasp and you watch in awe as a couple shots of his dark blue, semi-translucent semen fly free and the rest begins to leak down his length, thick and warm sliding over his and your fingers.

After a moment of tension, he finally relaxes and releases your hand, letting you pull it back and stare at the blue cum coating your fingers. He lets out a long breath and looks down at you again.

"Like I said..." He pauses to bring his hand to his mouth. His white tongue slides out and he drags his fingers down it, catching the taste of himself. His tongue then flicks across his lips, like he's savoring it, a lewd sexiness you never expected from a Fae scholar. You squeeze your thighs together a little tighter, the excitement that's been brewing between them finally reaching the point of unbearable neediness. "You're an eager one."

"But," he continues. "This was just foreplay."

Not bothering to tuck himself back in his pants, he simply bends over, gripping you under your arms. "Up we go." Rather than hauling you to your feet, he lifts you up, catching you easily with his hands on your thighs and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He steadies you with one hand on your back, but otherwise seems to have zero trouble holding you up.

"Let's go upstairs, to my bed, so I can love you properly," he whispers in your ear and begins to pepper your neck, jaw, and cheek in kisses. All you can do is hold on tight as he carries you up the spiral staircase, not even having to look at where he's going.

It's an unceremonious drop, but the bed that meets your back, that bounces you once then lets you sink in, is soft and comfortable, welcoming you with the feeling of safety and, beneath you, a handmade quilt that surrounds you with the distinct, puzzling essence of a mother who loved her son.

The fleeting feeling is gone in an instant as his weight presses you down into the bed. For the first time, his lips meet yours and sparks the sweetest of feelings deep within you.

Instinctively, you take his face between your hands, holding him gently as you move your mouth against his in the rhythm dripping with ardor that he leads you through. The softness of his lips, the faint scratch of his stubble, the taste of his mouth, and the air from his lungs filling yours, you lose yourself to the haze, like sinking slowly and warmly into the spring of Nothingness. Your fingers find his hair and take the ribbon holding his locks together with them, letting those waves flow down to frame his face and brush ever so softly against yours.

He breaks the kiss and his shadow falls over you as he sits up. His hands find the ties at his side and then his top is coming undone, tossed into a heap on the floor followed by his dark undershirt. You were right, those clothes hid so much of his hard, toned, scarred body.

You reach a hand out, your fingertips desiring to feel the uneven terrain of those well-maintained abs, but one firm word from him—"Stay."—and your hand snaps back to its place on your chest.

He shuffles forward, parting your thighs to fit his hips in between them. His hands make quick work of your clothes and you let him, giving yourself over to the feeling of his palms lighting a fire up the silhouette of your body as your back arches off the bed to meet his touch. A smirk plays at his lips as your top comes off, but as soon as he's slid your pants off your legs, he leans in again to seal his lips against the column of your throat.

His hand dives between your legs, fingers finding your wet heat and you sigh in pleasure. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest.

"So you did prepare yourself." His breath fans your skin and his teeth scrape you in a small nip at the V shaped muscles in your neck. "Good... Because I can't wait anymore."

Another shift and he's pushing your legs up. His forehead meets yours. You can't see where his eyes are looking but you're pretty sure, right now, it's directly in your own eyes.

"Is that okay?" The question catches you off guard. He's paused against you, but the eagerness he teased you for previously is now radiating off of him. Not trusting your voice, you nod emphatically, trying your best to brace yourself and calm your skyrocketing heartrate.

He reaches one hand between the two of you, lining himself up. Just as his hips push forward, his lips capture yours.

It's unlike anything you've felt before. The way his girth splits you open, stretching your sensitive walls to welcome himself inside, driving ever deeper and filling you, filling you until his hips meet yours. You prepared, but not for this. You're melting around him, whimpering into his mouth. He pulses inside you, feeling just as connected to you as you are to him.

"Just breathe," he breaks the kiss to whisper against your lips. "Don't hold your breath. I've got you."

You whine in response and he seals the sound in again with his lips. His body rocks against yours, barely pulling out before sliding back in. You don't feel empty for a second. You feel full, so full, and you let yourself melt completely into it, wrapping your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. His tongue sweeps through your mouth and you slide your tongue along his, tasting the sweetness of whatever berries have satiated him today.

You moan against each other, his grip on your waist gradually tightening as his short thrusts grow in force until he's tense. His tail lashes against your legs in frustration. He grunts, slamming his balls against your butt at this point, trying to find a stimulation he seems to be lacking. Finally, he can't take it anymore. He breaks the kiss again.

"Hold still," he growls.

Twitches seize your muscles as he sits up and takes your hands in his, his tail curling around your ankle as you loosen your legs from around his hips. Lacing his fingers with yours, he slowly pulls out. His hands squeeze yours and then he thrusts forward with a force that drives a loud cry of pleasure from your now unburdened mouth.

He molds your inner walls to the shape of his cock, stretching your insides around every contour of the thick, lengthy, hard shape spearing into you; you'll never feel the same again.

He doesn't give you a break and you wouldn't ask him to, pistoning in and out like it's what he was made to do. The sound of skin smacking against skin mix in the air with the sounds of your non-stop moans and desperate cries. His own groans escape unbidden from his mouth as his head tilts back.

Pleasure rides like tsunami-level waves up your body. His hips beat against yours, fucking up into your stomach so hard tears spring to your eyes. But you don't beg him to stop. You beg him for more. He calls your name, for the very second time since you met him, your name shapes his voice. And you see it.

The air sparks with magic and you finally see it; the white flame that surrounds his aura, emerging from his incomplete soul. The black fog that creeps up behind him, like eyes watching over his shoulder, seeing all your vulnerabilities.

The Call of After crackles upon his skin. It's weaved so deeply inside him he'll never be untethered. Never free of Father Fae.

The flame that licks down his arms flows into you and you feel Power.

That split second where the sensation of sex faded away slams back into you full force. Your nails dig into the backs of his hands, your hips move on their own, bucking up to meet his every earth-shattering thrust.

You beg him not to stop, never to stop, crying out your pleasure, calling for the Gods that abandoned this world, anything to work this feeling out of you, the feeling that makes your body move on it's own, that makes you want to scream your head off. Jolts rock through your body, sparks firing off in your brain. It's building. The tension grips your muscles. Control is snatched from you completely. The power bundling up in your core expands into every crevice of your body, shooting up your spine, straight into your brain and then-

You throw your head back, a scream tearing claws up your throat as you climax explodes through you, from this reality to the next.

Your insides' frantic spasming around his cock proves too much for him, too, triggering his own orgasm, but you barely get to see his reaction before everything goes black.

***

A weak moan escapes you before your eyes manage to crack open. Your bones feel gelatinous as your bleary surroundings slowly come into focus, the darkness at the edge of your vision receding.

The vague feeling against your cheek sharpens to familiar stubble and soft lips placing kiss after loving kiss on your neck, jaw, and cheek. You then realize you're cradled against a warm, bare chest. And the clothes upon your body are not the ones you came here in. In fact, they're a size or more too large for you, though comfortable.

"Are you awake, little witch?" His voice rumbles soothingly.

"...Tired..." you mumble in response and he chuckles deeply. You really want to close your eyes and turn your face in to those sculpted pecs and sleep for the next century, but you force yourself to look up at him.

He smiles, all hostility from your initial meeting now completely vanished from his demeanor. He leans in to greet your swollen lips with two kisses. He then turns away and sits up on the side of the bed, leaving you lonely.

"Well then." He locks his fingers together, stretching his arms above his head and letting you see the way his muscles move and stretch in his back.

"...You owe me knowledge, Fae," you find the strength to shoot back, though your voice sounds as sore as your throat is.

He laughs lightly, snatching his discarded shirt from the floor and standing up. "Of course. I haven't forgotten." He coyly glances back at you over his shoulder as he wrangles his shirt back on. "Find your strength, witch, then join me downstairs. You've more than earned the knowledge you seek and I will answer all your questions."

His smile grows upon his lips.

"Tell me, do you like tea?"

[bts-story]

Hello, can you write a sequel to Not The Only One but from Suga’s perspective while he’s cheating and realizing what he’s done after. Thank you so much! You’re an amazing writer.

Not The Only One — SUGA Pt.2

Characters: Yoongi X Reader

Rated: A for Asked for a part 2??

Part. 1

Sinking, sinking, sinking. Sinking to the bottomless pit. Sinking to the unknown, sinking to the darkest of the darkest places. There is not light to guide him back home, and Yoongi struggles against the current, his head bobbing up and down between the thin line of coherency and unconsciousness. He also struggles to breathe, water fanning into his lungs and concealing every crevice that ever dared to open for oxygen.

Yoongi was going under. Far, far, far under without any looking back, without the want or the need to ever go back up. There was no light, no way to get out, no way to breathe. Numbness spread throughout his whole body, freezing his senses. Hot, irritated tears formed in his eyes, mixing with the water, turning his whites into red. His lips quivering as if he had been standing in the cold for hours on end. The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale as the snow.

“I’m sorry,” his own voice echoed somewhere above him, too far out of reach but too close not to hear it. It resounded loud and clear inside his brain. Yoongi was hearing his own voice breaking, voice hoarse and tired, pleading for repentance. “I’m so sorry, please, please.”

The water was swallowing him whole, but even the pressure couldn’t block away the memories of that night. That night everything changed. The night Yoongi made the biggest mistake of his life.

Yoongi has always been distrustful and warry when it came to his love-life. He always suspected to get his heart broken, afraid to let his guard down so someone might take the chance to take a peek at his heart, breaking it in a million, million pieces. It’s amazing how someone can hurt someone else so badly. They spend weeks, months, years and even the majority of their life putting effort into a relationship, only to get their heart broken.

Maybe that’s how love is – Yoongi guesses that’s how relationships end up going down the drain; they lose trust and they wonder if they can ever forgive the other for what they did to them. Yoongi always found firewalls and build the thickest of defenses around him because he wouldn’t let anybody hurt him. He wouldn’t allow anyone to dig a hole in his heart, leaving him bleeding to death.

It’s funny. It really is funny, somehow, that Yoongi found himself being the one to be unfaithful. When it happened, when the alcohol was too strong on his tongue and his senses too dizzy to make intelligent decisions, Yoongi’s world crashed down. When he kissed her, fucked her, sent her into oblivion, Yoongi knew this would be the moment he’d lost all reason to live. Because how can he live in a world where he’s a cheater?

There was no point in lying, no point in hiding the truth and Yoongi wouldn’t even have been able to look his girlfriend in the eyes, whispering loving words and kissing her lips, while knowing how much of an asshole he was. “I have been unfaithful.” It’s hard to hear those words, let alone say them.

It’s a promise of all ideology crashing down, a peaceful world disturbed by firebombs and blood and death. Apocalypse looks so lovely on the other side. Yoongi did not fake tears, trying to act like the other girl came onto him and he was just getting to the point where he was going to push her away. He didn’t claim any apology, shouting how much he loved his partner, how she was the only one for him. He didn’t try to sell lies out of his dirty mouth, he stood silent, head down, preparing himself for the yelling and the punching thrown his way so hard that his whole face should sting for hours. But not even violence could fix the broken heart that was already starting to ache in the middle of her chest, that night.

The phone rang. It was distant, at first, but as Yoongi opened his eyes, the sound became closer and closer. Air filled in his lungs when he surfaced the water of his bath, water splashing all around down on the bathroom floor. Yoongi choked for a moment, clearing his throat as he tried to gain back his breath. The loud ringing was impatient and Yoongi almost choked again on air when he read the caller’s name.

He never found the strength to change her name, and when the device illuminated ‘Babe’, Yoongi thought he might be dreaming. However, the photograph of them kissing under the Statue of Liberty the year before, just under the name, couldn’t mistake him.

Yoongi’s phone almost fell in the tub, too eager to answer the quickest possible. He touched the answer button, but Yoongi couldn’t speak, it was like his mouth had frozen from hyperthermia or frostbite. His hands were shaking as he desperately tried to regain control over his own body. But Yoongi couldn’t find himself capable of doing that. “Yoongi?”

It was her, indeed. And it’s been so long since Yoongi heard her voice that he might be crying on the spot just at the sound. But he can’t answer, he can’t tell her he’s here and he’s listening. Doesn’t get the courage to ask her why she’s calling.

“I –“ she cut herself immediately, and Yoongi hears nothing much on the other side of the line. There’s only her, sniffling, “I don’t know why I’m calling.” She doesn’t wait for an answer. She doesn’t ask for conversation and Yoongi wonders if she’s mistaken into thinking she has reached his voicemail. “I’m drunk, and I missed you, so I wanted to call you. Jenny says I shouldn’t call but, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

It was silent again, and still, Yoongi can’t find his voice. He couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t tell her he was here, and he was listening to whatever she had to say. He could even have stayed there, phone on his ear, listening to her breathing if she didn’t even want to talk, as long as she was there, on the other end of the line.

She sniffled and Yoongi knew she was crying, didn’t have to see her to know. The sound of her breathing was shallow and the way her voice cracked when she spoke again was only confirming his theory, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Some people like to think that crying over a break-up is over-dramatic and used for attention; some people accuse that crying over a break-up is stupid and they say that going out and having fun is going to fix a broken heart in just seconds. But that’s not how it works, a broken heart has to be mended. People have to cry themselves because it’s healthier to relieve stress. They have to eat comfort foods and go through mood-swings when watching romantic comedies because they are feeling every emotion, not just sadness. They have to start building themselves up again, knowing when or when not they’ll be fine again. It’s a part of the process that makes them, them again.

Fixing a heart does not work on the first try. It’s not magic. “I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s fuckin’ driving me mad. I can’t even drink coffee because the smell reminds me of you, because somehow you always manage to drink eight freaking cappuccinos per day. And I – I, fuck, I can’t do anything anymore. Everything I do reminds me of you, everywhere I go I see your face and I can’t do it anymore, Yoongi. I can’t, I can’t do it.”

The tears were flowing hard down on her face now, Yoongi could tell easily. And they were matching his own, because it felt like waterfalls streaming down his own face. The pain was too much, like a train was crashing against his ribcage, forbidding him from breathing. But he’s not selfish, and only he can think about her own pain and how much worse it must feel like.

“I don’t want to ask you why you did it, I don’t want to hear excuses or anything. I just want you to know,” she took a deep breath, a muffled cry stopping her for a moment, “you broke me. You fuckin’ broke me, Yoongi.” The loud whine escaping her throat at that very same moment could have echoed his own. But he wouldn’t let his voice croak or let any sound live the threshold of his lips, he can’t give up, he can’t let her know he’s listening live.

Memories of them together flashed past Yoongi’s eyes, making him wince and flinch every time. That summer they went to the beach, searching all around for crabs and seashells. That winter up in the mountains, hidden behind the thick walls of her parents’ chalet when they did make love in front of the burning fireplace, just like in the movies. Late nights walks, skinny dipping, ice cream in winter, hot chocolate in summer. Things like this, gone forever.

All gone because Yoongi couldn’t control himself, he couldn’t take a hold of his own mistakes and let his feet drag him to the darkness that is heartbreak. He knew all of this would happen, he knew she wouldn’t ever forgive him, he wouldn’t have, if he was being cheated on. And it feels like his heart is bleeding non-stop, it hurts when he’s breathing, everytime he closes his eyes, he can feel hear his heart broke a little more with each second passing.

He’s alone, and it cut him up, threw him down, and stomped all over his useless body. “I didn’t deserve this, I don’t deserve so much pain. I – fuck, I’m the first of my class, I had a great education, I’m a freaking pastor’s daughter, I went to church. I – I donated to charities, I even did that freaking marathon for the poor three years ago. I’m a good friend, I give wonderful advices and, and I’m nice. I’m likable, I’m a freaking good person. Why did you do this? Why did you fucking do this to me?”

The tears couldn’t stop streaming down Yoongi’s face, but he was biting hard on the back of his hand, forbidding himself to let out any sound, forbidding himself to let her know he was there, and he was listening it all.

And while he was listening, while she was pouring her anger out, Yoongi couldn’t move.

Frozen in time, only ears wide open to hear all the dirt and the chaos he created. And unable to ponder about all the wrongs things in this world, Yoongi lied in the bathtub, heart beating fast through the broken pieces of his soul. Maybe he only seek chaos, maybe all he ever touches breaks and burns.

Part. 3

——-

‘While he’s cheating’ was too difficult for me, so I preferred writing about the after takes, I hope you don’t mind and you like it just as much :)

- Nageoire 

[crystals-and-cosmos-blog]

Intro to the 7 Chakras

    The Chakra system originated in India between 1500 and 500 BC in the oldest text called the Vedas, according to this ancient Hindu scripture the human body has 7 energy points that start at the base of your spine and expand to the top of your head. You have more than your physical body, the chakra system can be thought of as your “energy body.” When one of these chakra points are out of balance, it can cause disease within the body, and the symptoms can be mental, physical, emotional or spiritual. These 7 chakras that originated from eastern medicine happen to align with modern medicine and are known as our Endocrine System. Yes, our chakras have much to do with the human body’s glands. A variety of health problems may be caused by Chakra Imbalances affecting the associated Endocrine Gland and resulting in illness. Whether a chakra is overactive or underactive it can cause problems within the body. When you balance your chakras you will have control of your mental and spiritual health as well as your physical health. 

    So what are each of the 7 chakras? They each serve a specific purpose and are interconnected. If one is imbalanced, you will not achieve true alignment and optimal wellness. The lower level chakras are more “physical” chakras that deal with you as an individual - the upper chakras are “spiritual” chakras that focus on higher dimensional frequencies. Let’s begin with the Root chakra located at the base of your spine. 

1. Root Chakra or Mūlādhāra (Sanskrit)

Translation: English: "root and basis of Existence."Mula means root and adhara means basis.) 

Largely responsible for how safe/secure you feel - based on your physical environment. 

When out of harmony we don’t trust our environment and feel in danger

Feelings of basic/primal needs not being met: Food, water, shelter, clothing, love, etc.  

Color: Red     Element: Earth     Affirmation: “I am.”

Location in the body: Base of spine / in between genitals & anus 

Glands: Adrenals 

Affected Physical Body Parts: Spine, legs, bones, feet, rectum, immune system, large intestine, teeth 

Lesson: To feel safe in your environment, to be able to ground yourself, manifest basic needs, and practice healthy physical sexuality. 

Physical dysfunction: Chronic lower back pain, poor posture, sciatica, problems with veins/blood flow, rectal tumors and or cancers, hemorrhoids, constipation, arthritis, immune-related disorders, depression, weight fluctuation. 

Mental/ Emotional dysfunction: the ability to provide life’s necessities, provide for your family, group safety security, feeling like you belong in a group, the ability to stand up for one’s self. 

Keywords for imbalance: Fear, guilt, shame, depression, abuse, neglect, unsafe, dangerous

-Natural healing-

Crystals: (Most Red stones) Ruby, Garnet, bloodstones, hematite, obsidian, onyx, black tourmaline, red jasper, smoky quartz, fire agate. 

Essential Oils: Myrrh, sandalwood, patchouli 

2. Sacral Chakra or Svadhishthana 

(Sanskrit: स्वाधिष्ठान, IAST: Svādhiṣṭhāna, English: "where your being is established.""Swa" means self and "adhishthana" means established.) 

Deals mostly with sexual/reproductive organs and activities, but also emotions and creativity. 

Can become unbalanced due to unexpressed anger - stifled creativity - feelings of shame/guilt - and dealing with feelings of lack or scarcity of money or material goods. 

When in balance you will cultivate healthy relationships, be in touch with your inner emotions, express sensuality in a positive/healthy way, and easily cultivate abundance. 

Location: 2 inches below the navel

Element: Water    Color: Orange     Affirmation: “I feel.”

Glands: Ovaries, testicles 

Physical body parts affected: womb, genitals, lower vertebrae, pelvis, appendix, bladder, hip, kidneys

Life lesson: Use your emotions to connect to others without losing your own identity. Freely express creativity and healthy emotional sexuality. 

Physical dysfunction: Chronic lower back pain, sciatica, gynecological problems, pelvic pain, impotence, frigidity, uterine/bladder/kidney problems

Emotional/ mental dysfunction: guilt/ blame, shame, negative money mindset, negative outlook on sexual relationships, hypersexuality, low sex drive, problems with power/control/dominance, creativity/ problems with expressing one's ideas, honor in relationships

Possible causes of energy blockage: sexual abuse/trauma, r*pe, harassment, gender issues, body dysmorphia/dysphoria, p*rn addiction, shame or repressment of sexuality, stifled creativity. 

Crystals: Carnelian, amber, moonstone, coral, orange tourmaline, Sunstone

Essential Oils: ylang-ylang, lemon, patchouli, rosewood, sandalwood 

3. Solar Plexus Chakra or Manipura

Manipura translates from Sanskrit as "resplendent gem" or "lustrous gem"

The 3rd Chakra or “Power Chakra” 

Location: Above Navel / Solar Plexus (beneath ribcage) 

 Element: Fire          Color: Yellow           Affirmation: “I can.”

Glands: Pancreas, Adrenals

Physical body parts affected: Abdomen, Stomach, Intestines, liver, gallbladder, spleen, middle spine 

Life lesson: To experience the depth of who we are as individuals

To live your life’s purpose 

To feel empowered and have good self-esteem

Physical dysfunction: Arthritis, Digestive issues, gastric ulcers, eating disorders, diabetes, indigestion, fatigue, hepatitis, nerve pain, weight issues, metabolism issues, cancers/tumors in the digestive system, etc. 

Emotional/ mental dysfunction: trust issues, fear, easily intimidated, low self-respect or self-confidence, sensitivity to criticism, phobias, self-esteem issues, self-harm, depression, inactivity/ stagnant energy, etc. 

Possible causes of energy blockage: Repressed anger, dominance/submission issues, problems with working on a team, controlling personality, instability with money, lack of passion for career/ purpose, childhood trauma, many failures, codependency, addiction, etc.

Crystals: Citrine, amber, yellow topaz, tiger’s eye, yellow agate

Essential Oils: Lemon, lemongrass, lime, lavender, rosewood, rosemary, 

4. Heart Chakra or Anahata

Anahata (Sanskrit: अनाहत, IAST: Anāhata, English: "unstruck") In Sanskrit, anahata means "unhurt, unstruck, and unbeaten".

Location: Center of Chest 

Element: Air            Color: Green          Affirmation: “I love.”

Glands: Thymus 

Physical body parts affected: Heart, chest, lungs, circulatory system, shoulders, breast, ribs, lymph nodes, diaphragm, veins, etc. 

Life lesson: To experience empathy, compassion, and unconditional love for one’s self and all other beings. 

Physical dysfunction: heart disease, heart attack, asthma, allergies, lung cancer, lung disease, pneumonia, breast cancer, high blood pressure

Emotional/ mental dysfunction: Inability to love, hatred for others, resentment, grief, self-centeredness, loneliness, trust issues, inability to forgive 

Possible causes of energy blockage: repressed heartache/grief, trauma, negligence, a victim of abuse, unhappy relationship, poor relationship with immediate family, lack of support of friend group, isolation

Crystals: Rose quartz, emerald, peridot, other green stones.  Essential Oils: Rose, bergamot, ylang-ylang, Melissa, palmarosa 

5. Throat Chakra or Vishuddha

(Sanskrit: विशुद्ध,: Viśuddha, English: "especially pure")

Location: Throat     

Element: Sound        Color: Light Blue            Affirmation: “I speak.”

Glands: Thyroid 

Physical body parts affected: Thyroid, parathyroid, throat, neck, mouth, gums. esophagus, teeth, hypothalamus, neck vertebrae, arms, and hands  

Life lesson: To speak and receive the truth. To express yourself freely. 

Physical dysfunction: Raspy or sore throat, mouth ulcers, gum difficulties/disease, stiff neck, scoliosis, swollen glands, thyroid problems

Emotional/ mental dysfunction: Strength/will, personal expression, following one’s dreams, using personal power to create, ability to make decisions, addiction, judgment, faith. 

Possible causes of energy blockage: suppressing creative talents, difficulty expressing one's self, not feeling safe to freely express, swallowing words 

Crystals: turquoise, aquamarine, celestite, lapis lazuli, blue kyanite

Essential Oils: Lavender, rosemary, frankincense 

6. Third Eye Chakra or Ajna 

Ajna translates as "authority" or "command" (or "perceive") and is considered the eye of intuition and intellect. 

Location: Forehead, between brows 

Element: Light     Color: Indigo        Affirmation: “I see.” 

Glands: Pineal

Physical body parts affected: Brain, nervous system, eyes, ears, nose

Life lesson: To use insight and intuition

To see past the physical world and access higher dimensions 

Physical dysfunction: Brain tumor/hemorrhage, stroke, neurological disturbances, blindness, deafness, full spinal difficulties, learning disabilities, seizures, headaches, blurred vision, memory loss, 

Emotional/ mental dysfunction: self-evaluation, truth, intellectual abilities, feelings of adequacy, openness to ideas of others, emotional intelligence 

Possible causes of energy blockage: A lack of trust in one’s intuition or ability, 

Crystals: Lapis Lazuli, amethyst, fluorite, clear quartz

Essential Oils: Lavender, frankincense, sandalwood

7. Crown Chakra or Sahasrara 

(Sanskrit: सहस्रार, IAST: Sahasrāra, English: "thousand-petaled") 

Location: Top of Head 

Element: Thought    Color: Purple, white, gold      Affirmation: “I know.”

Glands: Pituitary 

Physical body parts affected: Muscular system, skeletal system, skin, central nervous system 

Life lesson: To experience the divine meaning of life. 

Physical dysfunction:  Energy disorders, depression, chronic fatigue, apathy, 

Emotional/ mental dysfunction: Ability to trust, values, ethics, courage, selflessness, ability to see the big picture, faith, inspiration, spirituality, devotion. 

Possible causes of energy blockage: lack of trust in the divine or the universe, lack of faith, distrust, believing in the worst possible outcome, manifesting negativity 

Crystals: Amethyst, clear quartz, moonstone, selenite, white topaz

Essential Oils: Frankincense, peppermint, sandalwood, lotus 

[ebbforeman]

The Court of Fen’Harel

(Just a little something that I started working on to pass the time until DA4. Bioware is seriously killing me with the lack of updates...I’ve had to start new play-throughs to satisfy my needs!!) 

Full Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574054

The Court of Fen'Harel

Chp. 1 King of Old & New

It was decided long ago that the place where he would settle would be that of the Elven Ruins from the time of Elvhenan. He would restore what was old in addition to adding some new. It was necessary, he deemed, while molding and shaping all that it would become. He had grown accustomed to certain comforts during his travels and adventures, things he never truly cared for or dwelled on prior to his time among the humans, children of the stone, and the qunari. At first, when he stood on the overgrown path, feeling the breath of wind mix with the will of magic and observing the subtle changes of nature; he realized ironically that he would miss the world he vowed to destroy in order to restore what was lost.

He realized within those brief, calm moments, before he summoned the divine power of the ancient magics to break down the very fabric of the veil, that he in truth would reshape some aspects out of necessity and not selfishness.

The foundation of the world shook and he watched, as promised, as all that had risen in place of the old burned in the chaos. With the flick of his wrist he destroyed the shrine, unbothered by the crumbling of the wolven status or the cracks that webbed along the painted frescos, and in its stead erected a castle to call home. His desire to create a haven for the Elvhen people manifested itself in the shape of the stone fortress nestled in the rocky cliffs just beyond the long bridge.

It wasn't difficult, or at least no more so than reconnecting the eluvians had been. The magic flowed through him like air in his lungs, swiftly, easily, and naturally. His agents across Thedas, under his instruction, knew how to protect themselves. He'd sent scouts long before the veil began to pull against reality. They fanned out across the land with a message and small bundle for each of the elven faction leaders on where to go and how to survive. They gathered like lost sheep in the grey mists of the crossroads, the only place shielded from the uncontrollable madness that raged just beyond the protection of mirrors.

He watched as wild and willful spirits eagerly took to their new home. Much like the elves, they pressed together to learn of the world they once seemed no more than a dream or a reflection of their own reality. New and old magic blended beautifully. He often found himself speechless and surprised by the glimpses of forgotten dreams and dreamers lost to time.

One piece, one small piece of that world he refused to surrender. For a time he foolishly convinced himself that he could. Naive and childish notions of longing and need fueled him, and after a time that need grew and proved stronger than anything he'd ever felt. Go to her, he had commanded Briala, You are a familiar face and will bring a welcomed comfort that I will not be able to give at this time. While Felassan paid with his life for his error and failure, Briala had been more willing to obey. He allowed her to live, knowing or perhaps hoping that doing prove to be useful later. The truth had revealed itself like a glimmering gift. Her role would be to serve, not as a slave, but as a handmaiden. Briala's skills as a spy and assassin in addition to her history with the human empress made her the logical, if not perfect choice for this task.

"What makes you think she will come willingly." She asked, as she stood under the stone arch of what would become his throne room. "Last we met, she and I did not part on the greatest of terms."

He cared little for her doubts and only desired compliance. "She will come. She has a strong heart, and is determined and thoughtful. She will be unable to accept death and she deserves more than the world she was born into." he waved his hand across an eluvian and the glassy surface rippled as if water. "Go by way of Vir Tanadahl. The foliage and trees will shield you and hide your intent, be swift for we are running out of time. You will find her near Skyhold and at the edge of the Frostbacks."

He thought of that day often. It plagued his dreams more so than any of his misgivings and deeds throughout the years. He rose from his bed, moving silently so not to disturb the sleeping form beside him, and crossed the room to the open balcony window. The moon had long since risen casting a bright, pure white glow along the marble railing and tiles that decorated the balcony. He peered beyond the towers and walls of stone to the crystal spires that floated in the distance. He had missed them and it wasn't until now that he knew how much. The marvelous craftsmanship of his people, the wonder and beauty of the infinite potential of the imagination - it was all breathtaking. Imbued with ancient magicks, that were long thought lost and forgotten, he found whispering at the edge of the broken veil searching for an amenable host to pass the knowledge on to. And even now, such knowledge still lingered flittering aimlessly in the world. He alone was up for the task of collecting them all - that and ensuring it was utilized correctly.

He sighed, utterly frustrated. There was still much to be done. This new, old world was still incomplete. The Tevinter Imperium refused to collapse and somehow, either by the use of blood magic or stolen elven artifacts, survived the shattering of the veil. It was a surprising and unforeseen act that would be rectified in due time. He allowed the waterfall below the balcony to cleanse his mind. It was a peaceful sound and absolute peace was something the world was in short supply of - that too would change before his time was done.

The night air swirled around him causing goosebumps to break out across his skin. He stood there, face the dark, naked and his mind restless. "There is so much to be done," he mused, his tone flat. He felt smaller somehow as all of his plan came rushing to him unbidden and all at once. It made him feel oddly vulnerable, something he was not accustomed to. He peered over his shoulder and watched the rise and fall of the sleeping figure's chest and smiled - well, almost not accustomed to.

He turned back, focusing on his duty once more. While he was no god, he was indeed prideful and hotheaded, maybe even cocky in his belief that alone could purge the world of injustice and evil. He shook his head, no, no, that was merely doubt. He was certain of his purpose. Actions and consequences. Cause and Effect. These were the black and white dichotomies of life.

"Solas?" a voice from within the bedchamber called, thick with sleep. "Is something wrong?"

She was up and moving before he could reach her and he cursed himself for being so selfish and causing her undo worry. She shuffled awkwardly toward him, her silver white curling hair spilling across her shoulders like liquid starlight.

"Vhenan," he breathed, wrapping his arms around her. "I am sorry, did I wake you? I did not mean to. You should be resting and enjoying your sleep."

She hummed thoughtfully and inhaled his scent. "Vir sumeil, I could sense something was wrong through our bond."

He smiled down at her, kissed her head and nodded. "Yes, of course. Forgive me, I continue to underestimate your sensitivity to such things."

Her sleeping silks clung to the curves of her body, the fabric so thin and transparent it looked to be flesh. He could feel her full and heavy breast pressed against his chest and the swell of her budding belly touching his own stomach. "You are beautiful."

She laughed softly, the sound so lovely and feminine it seized his heart. "Really? I feel rather like a druffalo, minus the rather intimidating horns."

"Ma vhenan, I could hardly agree with that sentiment, given you are carrying our child within you."

He remembered their time together before, when he led her to the cove near Crestwood and offered to reveal the truth of the vallaslin to her. She had balked at the idea of marking herself as a slave, as he knew he would, but what he was unprepared for was the visceral pain it caused her to know how fragmented her knowledge of her history was. He wanted to tell her then, the truth of his intentions, and lose himself in his love for her, but….

"Yes, our child. Abelas believes I am carrying a girl, though why he would wish that on me…" Her ears flattened slightly at the idea. "I wouldn't know where to begin with a girl."

This time he laughed and brought his lips down to meet her's. Guileless emerald green blinked back at him, dazed and hungry. There was lust hidden within her weary eyes and he felt his manhood swelling and grow stiff the more his hands roamed her body.

"You will be a wonderful mother, Ashalle. Should we have a daughter, I believe she could find nor possess no better mother than you."

"I never knew my own mother, or father. I'm not sure I really know how to care for a child."

"You will take to it naturally, as you do with most things."

She scoffed. "You have more assurance than I do."

"Come, vhenan." he said, offering her his hand. "Let us go back to bed."

She had become his distraction, his weakness. He soon learned after that orchestrated meeting in this very place five years ago, that he would betray himself for her. To be with her. To see her. To smell her scent and feel her warmth. He resolved himself to save her, for a life without her in existence would be hollow and dull in comparison.

And so, Briala brought Ashalle to him. Regrettably a fight had ensued and the now ex-inquisitor refused to be drawn back into any game involving the Dread Wolf. The resistance was inevitable, it was, after all, who she was and what she represented. A hero who rose to stand against evil, a shining light to fight the darkness from swallowing the world whole. Sleep magic was required, something that even Briala, who possessed no innate magical gifts, was able to perform without harming Ashalle.

The slumber was not unlike the one he experienced after banishing the Evanuris into the beyond. It was careful, well practiced and formulated magic, that would retain all that she was but make her more….amenable to his intentions. She woke, confused and frantic and he would never forget the shrill sound of terror when she realized her left arm was fully restored.

Ashalle kissed his neck and pressed herself against the hard mold of his body. She was rather good at distracting him. She ran a hot tongue down his neck and whispered sweet words of love to him as her hand reached for his length.

"You should be sleeping." he moaned, struggling to fight against his own lust.

This was not the first time. He once swore he would never lie with her under false pretenses; however, back then his tenacity, his sheer strength of will and character seemed stronger. The barriers he created as he walled off his heart and the distance he placed between them assisted with alleviating his emotional entanglement to her, if only for a while. Soon, he could no longer bear the thought of being separated from her or her dying by his hands.

"I will sleep after, my love."

He could not keep himself from reaching down between her thighs and exploring the wet folds that lay at the center of them. He pulled his face down to a round supple breast, took the peaked nipple in his mouth and sucked at it. His manhood throbbed with longing, an ache that begged to be satisfied whenever he laid eyes on her.

Ashalle's mouth was sweeter than the deepest dream, than any dream he ever experienced both in and out of the Fade. He plunged himself inside of her, ravenous for her flesh and the sweetness of her. A moan escaped her swollen lips as glittering strands of hair fell in front of her eyes.

"Oh vhenan…"

She was everything that was beautiful in the world. Though the Evanuris hindered his perfect dream, of a life with his love and their child, here and now, in this moment nothing could pull him from her.

Ashalle was honey and sweet cakes, she was the finest wine and warmed spiced rum, she was the very air that filled his lungs and the food that nourished his body. Small shuddering gasps of pleasure echoed throughout the bedchamber and mingled with the stillness of the night.

They both reached their climax, the world exploded before their eyes in swirling shades of color and light. He ran nimble fingers across the tender taut skin of her belly, feeling the warmth and surge of life and magic within, as she lay quietly in his arms. A soft kick, a subtle movement, reached out toward. His child, a kindred spirit filled with old and new magic.

An heir. A queen. And he, now a king. He would rule this world, correcting the actions of those who came before to ensure a brighter, better future than the one the Evanuris sought to create. His child would be born never knowing fear, hardship, or pain. The corrections, so easy and precise, like the blossoming fruit of a tree, would take more time. Dissent within his court needed to be eliminated otherwise the transition could be hindered further. He was nothing if not efficient. It could be done.

Sleep, he thought, for the dawn comes soon and only you are prepared to greet it.

[royaltealovingkookiness]

30 Days of Zutara - Day 17: Moonlight

He leans against the ancient pillars of the Western Air Temple. The night is mild and the full moon is larger than usual.  It looks foreign and mysterious just like the girl standing in the middle of the courtyard, next to the fountain. She’s wearing only her white wrappings which glow white in the moonlight. Her hair flows down to her waist like a dark waterfall. She is moving to the rhythm of the moon. It looks like a dance; graceful and calm. But Zuko knows the power hidden in her depth and he’s attracted to it like fire-moths to the light. He watches mesmerized as she makes the water bend to her will. All motion; curves and waves. She stops suddenly, the water falling down to her feet in a loud splash. She turns around and fixes her gaze right at him. Stupid. He got caught staring like a creep, and he knows it looks bad, even if his intentions are pure. Mostly pure. He swallows hard and steps out from under the pillars.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb your practice,” he apologizes sincerely, not wanting to give her more reason to hate him than she already has.

“Then why are you lurking there like a creep?” she asks angrily. “Or are you here to challenge me?” Her smile is dangerous, like a predator circling his prey.  Zuko does feel very much like a helpless critter caught in a snare.

Honour normally requires to accept a challenge, but he sees the full moon and he vividly remembers the last time he fought her on such unequal ground. He has very little desire to spend the rest of his night frozen into a block of ice.

“Honestly, I know better now than to fight a waterbending master at full moon,” he replies truthfully.

Katara is visibly taken aback by this reply and she’s lost for words for a moment. “Are you afraid?” she taunts him, but her heart is not fully in it.

“I had a different idea actually…” he says breathlessly, hoping that he can get her on board. He steps closer to her, but when her eyebrows shoot up in confusion he backs up leaving her more space. “I thought maybe you could teach me,” he mutters.

“You want what?” she looks at him like he’s crazy, and maybe he is. But Uncle learnt new moves studying waterbenders and if he’s ever going to stand up to Azula, Zuko will need things she can’t anticipate. “You think you can waterbend now?”

“No, obviously. But I thought maybe you can show me a new way to firebend.”

“Even if that made any sense, why would I want to do that…”

Zuko sighs. “Katara, we are on the same team now. And if I have new moves, things that would even surprise my sister and my father, I can teach them to the Aang…it would benefit us all...”

She’s pondering this then shrugs. “We can try, but I still think it’s a dumb idea.”

“Your objection is noted,” he mutters and takes off his tunic. When he sees Katara staring at him, he explains in a fluster. “I don’t want to get wet.”

She purses her lips and looks away. “Suit yourself. So what did you want to know?”

“My fire moves in straight lines mostly - which makes the blasts powerful, but easy to calculate. And I can make a fire whip, but it’s not so strong. I want to be able to make waves of flame, that curve, making its direction less predictable, without sacrificing impact.” He tries to explain using his hands to demonstrate the motion.

“Like this?” Katara surprises him with a powerful wave that knocks him back several feet and sends him crashing to the ground.

“Hey, what was that for?” He’s on his butt, soaked, and has a strange feeling of deja vu.

“I thought you wanted a demonstration,” her grin is evil, obviously waiting for him to retaliate. Zuko swallows his anger - he’s getting quite good at it. Trying to get on the good side of Katara is a hard lesson in patience; one he reckons he deserves. He’s determined not to rise to the bait.

“Yeah, thanks. But perhaps we could take it more slowly - I couldn’t see it so clearly, with the water in my eyes,” he says evenly.

Katara laughs. It’s not a grin or a snicker - it’s a real laugh, like a clear bell and he thinks that it was worth getting drenched for it. He stands up and shakes his hair. Some of the droplets land on her chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they slide down towards the curve of her breast. Zuko tries not to stare, but it is a challenge. Her femininity is hard to ignore as the moon accentuates every soft curve of her body. Katara takes pity on him and bends the water out of his pants and hair.

“Come here, and try copying what I do. Though I really doubt it will do anything.” her voice is sceptical, but the coldness is gone for now. Zuko stands across from her, trying to mirror her movements. “Your stance should be more flexible,” she explains, “you don’t resist, you just go with the flow.” She steps closer and corrects his feet and turns his knees more out. The contact startles Zuko, she hasn’t touched him since Ba Sing Se, and the feel of her skin against his makes him feel like he’s going to crumble. “Relax, you are too stiff,” she scolds him, and he lets out a deep breath.

“Now, your arms guide the element, so you’ll have to imitate the motion.” This time she turns and bends a powerful wave in the other direction. “Got it?”

Zuko nods, then tries to copy the movement. A pathetic little snake forms at his fingertips. It would be discouraging, except the flame curves in a way he’s never done before.

“Well, I guess there goes your theory.” She almost looks disappointed for all her naysaying. Obviously, he managed to spark her curiosity.

“No, it worked. Just need to figure out how to give it more juice.” He scratches his head. “How do you breathe through it?”

Katara looks perplexed. “What do you mean? Breathing has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what does?”

Katara seems unsure, so she repeats the movement several times, trying to alter things, then finally looks up triumphantly. “It’s the legs, you shift your weight with the movement. The strength comes from the knees - look.”

Zuko tries the fluid motion and is rewarded with a thicker snake.

“That still doesn’t look too impressive,” grimaces Katara, but Zuko feels excited; they are on the right track.

“Well, firebending has everything to do with the breath. So I bet I need to fuel it at the right moment.”

He tries to rush a breath out as he pushes his hands forward. The snake turns into a fireball and explodes. He’s pushed backwards by the unexpected blast, crashing into Katara and they both roll onto the ground. He puts out his arms against the sharp rocks of the terrace, trying to take the brunt of the fall. He’s successful and she lands on top of him, limbs entangled, her large eyes staring directly right above him. It feels like gazing into the vast expanse of a moonlit dark blue skye. Her nearness is overwhelming and he’s relieved when she gets up.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he scrambles to his feet. It feels like his face is burning, and she’s looking a bit flushed too.

But she gets back to the practice immediately, undeterred by the mishap. Zuko loves this stubbornness in her.

“I think you need to make the breath flow like a wave too, to avoid the explosion, something like this,” she demonstrates and her breath tickles Zuko’s face.

“Maybe,” he concedes. He takes a few steps away from her, so as not to get her caught up in the blast, in case he mucks it up again.  

He feels like a kid under her watchful eyes. He concentrates hard, carefully assumes the stance she showed him, thrusts his arms forward just as she explained and lets out a slow, controlled breath. An orange wave forms at the movement; it’s powerful and bright and curves to the side.

“We did it,” says Zuko triumphantly.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Katara exclaims with a huge smile on her face, she seems so genuinely happy that Zuko feels choked with emotion. Nobody has ever been this happy for him to do something new in firebending, all his little triumphs overshadowed by his sister’s genius.

“You are a good teacher,” he replies with a shy smile and leans against the rim of the fountain.

“How did you know it would work?” she asks as she sits next to him, feet dangling from the side.

“Well, the elements are not as separate as we think. After all, what is moonlight? It’s only sunshine reflected…” he starts.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not right.” Katara shakes her head.  

Zuko looks up at the moon, searching his memory for the words. “Legend has it that when Agni brought the eternal flame to Earth, the spirit of darkness was so frightened that she ran away. There was only light. But it turned out the world needed darkness. The crops wouldn’t grow, the animals grew restless. So some of the people went to the spirit of darkness and asked her to return. She attacked Agni in his sleep, and he lashed out a whip of fire. It melted into the skin of the spirit of darkness and they got joined together for eternity. They would roll in perpetual motion, and day and night were separated. But people were still unhappy. At night they could not see, they would get lost. The earth spirit heard their cries and asked the other spirits for help. The moon spirit was kind and brave and she went to see Agni. She tried her best to separate him from the spirit of darkness, but his whip was melted too deep inside her. There was nothing she could do. But Agni appreciated her good intentions and gave her a mirror. He told her that if she turned the mirror just the right way, she could reflect Agni’s light even at night, when the spirit of darkness rolled between him and the earth. The moon spirit brought back the mirror and when she angled it draw light from Agni, the ocean spirit saw her face for the first time. He was drawn to her beauty and that’s how the tides were created.”

“That’s quite the story,” smiles Katara warmly. “Who knew you could be such a story-teller when most days you can’t even get through a joke without stumbling?”

“This is how my mother used to tell me,” Zuko replies quietly and Katara nods serenely. She understands. She is the only person in the world who knows about the deep pain he still carries. It’s something they share. “I think it means that it’s all connected - the sun, the moon, the ocean, the earth, the tides.” You and me, he thinks but doesn’t say it.

They sit in silence for a while as the moonlight caresses them with soft, silver fingers.

“Zuko,” she breaks the silence.

“Yes?”

“If sunlight and moonlight are the same, then it should work the other way too. I think you owe me a move.”

He thinks he owes her much more, but for now it will do. “It’s only fair.” He gets up and offers his arm to pull her up too. “We’d better start then.”

She takes his hand - it’s not peace yet between them, but under the moonlight, it’s a truce.

Full collection - AO3

[luccie-eclair]

Dear Nora Valkyrie (Renora Week: AU)

“Okay, take a lunch break. Your director wants you back in exactly one hour,” the Asian man instructed the cast of dancers before taking a sip of water. One girl, in a red dress passed by him. “And, Ruby?” She stopped to look at him. “Maybe try not wearing a dress to rehearsal.”

She blushed and nodded. “I didn’t think we’d be dancing. I’ll remember tomorrow.”

The man chuckled and grabbed his bag before meeting with their assistant director, Glynda Goodwitch. He received brief instruction for their next rehearsal and made mental notes before leaving the dance room and walking down the long halls of the studio. 

He had about 3 hours to eat lunch and get ready for his dance students. One door he passed read “Cast and Crew for TEM only” in pink, curly handwriting with a heart on the bottom. There was music seeping through the cracks of the door with what sounded like singing. 

“Cause I’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass. Waving through a window.” Gorgeous singing from a girl, it sounded like.

He glanced at the sign. He was the choreographer and would be credited on the playbill. That made him crew, right? Definitely. The man opened the door and stepped in while the singing continued. He quietly shut it as to not disturb them and looked around the room. Barren, blue walls with white tiles, but what brightened the room were the mannequins who were adorned with costumes and stray bits of fabrics and measuring tape. The front right corner of the room had two, wooden dividers -a dressing room of sorts. On the back wall was a desk with a sewing machine, a small set of speakers, a lamp, and rolls of silk, cotton, and literally every other type of cloth and to the right of it stood a sofa. On that wall were sketches and designs with precise measurements tacked in various places with a checklist close by. But sitting at the desk was a young woman with bright orange curls and a blue bandana wrapped around her head to prevent bangs from getting into her eyes. She wore a pink hoodie that practically swallowed her and white leggings; her shoes were no where to be seen. 

The man stood captivated by her movements. Her fingers flowed over the seams and checked, double checked, and triple checked the design next to her. She skillfully removed the pins she set into the cloth as she sewed it together while belting the climax of a piece from Dear Evan Hansen. He watched her pause as she held out the final note and rest her head on her palm.

A throat cleared. The seamstress jumped in shock and turned around. Her pale skin was burried under freckles, but amidst the mess of jumbled constellations on her skin were bright, teal eyes under round specs. Jingle bells spoke to him. “Can I help you?”

“Um, no,” one of his hands stuffed itself into the pocket of his sweatpants. “I just heard someone singing. I got curious. You sounded beautiful.” Nice introduction. Ten out of ten.

Her face flushed and she smiled. “Thank you, but I was just messing around. Keeping myself a little entertained while I work, you know?”

The choreographer nodded in understanding. “You make costumes.”

“And build the set with some outside help, of course. Did I get your measurements?” She swiftly turned her back to him and scuffled under the mess of thread, fabric, and papers, but came out with a clipboard. “I could’ve sworn I got everyone last week. What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m not a cast member,” he said as he stepped closer to her and pushed the clipboard down. She looked up and he gazed into her orbs. “I’m Lie Ren, but just call me Ren. I’m the choreographer.”

She gave him a thousand kilowatt smile. “Nora Valkyrie. Pleased to meet you.” She held out a hand, her fingernails painted in pink and blue patterns. Her face scrunched in confusion. “I’ve done work for a lot of musicals, so I know a lot of people, but I’ve never worked with you. Is this you first show?

He smiled at her and nodded. "I’m a dance professor at one of the universities. I figured I’d try something a bit different.”

Nora smirked and grabbed her phone from behind the sewing machine. It still played showtunes that blared from the speakers it was connected to. Her fingers circled around the screen into some lock key that no one should be able to remember, let alone create, and handed him the phone. “Show me.”

~*~

Ren visited her workshop of headless mannequins and drapery everyday after practice for months. He occasionally joined her in building the set and he had the paint splatters on various pairs of sweats to prove it. Eventually, he’d decide to bring lunch from home so he could sit with her a touch longer before having to leave for his students. They had a set routine that never grew tiresome: he’d pop in while she was mid-song (she used to stop when he entered, but slowly got comfortable enough to sing louder when he came in), he’d sit on the sofa and watch her work, and they’d just talk. About what? It didn’t matter. Anything and everything. Sometimes he’d just sit and listen to her voice glide over the sweet melodies pouring from her speakers. Sometimes he’d join her on parts he knew she couldn’t sing at the same time as others. Other times, Ren would sit and watch her fingers coast the fabric and thread in her hands, no talking necessary, just the melodies of her voice gliding through the room.

It was easy to tell that the two admired one another. The fleeting glances, the eye contact that held many a conversation, hidden smiles, flushed cheeks, and lingering touches. They’d given away their obvious infatuation, yet the only ones in the dark were themselves.

Of course, the two had been teased by fellow crew members. Blake and Weiss, the acting and vocal coaches respectively, near threatened to write a poem and a song in his name. The makeup artist and hair stylist, Yang was very vocal and pushed Nora in his direction more than once before running off or placing mistletoes over them despite it being spring. Ruby, Oscar, Jaune, and Pyrrha, all of whom were lead cast members, took the sensible approach in trying to just get them to go on a date without any elaborate schemes. “Talk to him/her”, they said.

Yet, when the opportunity arose, neither took it. Both remained passive, close friends who admired one another from a distance. A rather close distance.

~*~

“Nora-”

“Ren-”

They paused and locked eyes before bursting into laughter. She looked away seeming almost apprehensive. “Go ahead. It wasn’t that important.”

Ren raised a brow at her. She’d been doing that a lot recently. Starting questions and never finishing them. She looked anxious. “Are you sure? It seems important.”

Nora flashed him a smile dimmer than the one he got from her earlier. “Nope. Ask away, Ren.”

He wouldn’t press her on it now, he decided. He had a slightly medium sized fish to fry. Well, it could be big, maybe. He’d been planning to ask for a few days now… so maybe a medium large fish? “Are you ever going to audition Anastasia? They’re supposed to start practice in November." 

That was not the question he meant to ask, in case anyone was curious. Apparently, his lips had other plans today.

She pursed her plump, rosy lips in thought. "Jaune asked me about that… Maybe. But probably not. The others are auditioning anyway. I think I really like my job. You know, behind the scenes stuff. Sounds cool and mysterious.”

Ren smiled softly and took her hand. “You should go for it anyway.” He’d ask her another time then.

~*~

The first show was hectic, but it went as smoothly as anyone expected it to. Nora mostly stayed backstage checking everyone’s costumes and patching any emergent tears. She didn’t get much of an opportunity to actually watch the show. She walked down the corridors to the costume studio to grab her things. A bouquet of moss rosebuds lay at the foot of her door with a long, folded pamphlet attached to it. She gingerly plucked them both from the ground and opened the pamphlet. It was a map of New York with the words “Does anybody have a map… to dinner?” in black scrawl. The woman laughed. Clearly her friends were up to something and, judging by the handwriting, Dear Evan Hansen joke, and the flowers, Yang and Blake were involved. In a smaller, loopy cursive, she saw “Meet me on stage.”

Nora glanced both ways down the hall, searching for prying eyes. She certainly didn’t feel any on her backside, but figured she’d check anyhow. Her sneakers began to squish against the tiled floor as she made her way back to the stage. The sight itself shocked and confused her, but it made her break into a smile and giggle.

The Tuck Everlasting set still stood proudly and the pink stage lights from Hairspray shined down on a table set for two with a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs. An exasperated Ren sat at the chair across from her behind what looked like a window in a striped shirt and a fake cast. The West Side Story soundtrack played from a stereo next to the table.

A voice loudly “whispered from the wings. "Ren, wave.”

He rolled his eyes and raised his casted arm to wave at her. She let out a full laugh. “For the record,” he started. “My idea didn’t have so many moving parts. I was gonna leave you flowers and a note. Then you’d meet me here, and we’d have pancakes, but everyone else had a different plan.”

Nora’s laughter died down and she sat in the empty chair. “Is this a date?”

“Well, it feels more like a date with our friends than each other. But yes, it is supposed to be a date.”

She bit her bottom lip and reached for his uncasted hand. “You can take me on another this weekend.” She saw his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “This is really cute, though. We’ve got a Tuck Everlasting set, Hairspray lights, West Side Story music, Lady and the Tramp dinner, and Dear Evan Hansen on you.”

Ren groaned and interlocked their fingers. He peered at her behind his shaggy bangs. Her smile alonewould power all of Manhattan for years. “Okay,” he conceded. “Maybe it isn’t terrible.”

A/N: First and foremost, huge thanks to @rwbywriter22 @scarlet-curls @flagbearer-or-scouts @claraowl even if I didn’t use all of your ideas directly or word for word, you really helped me get the creative (ish) juices flowing. I kid you not, I finished this 5 minutes before posting it because I didn’t know how to finish it until yesterday 😧. I obviously don’t own any shows that were mentioned. Um… I probably could’ve taken out that part before the end, but whatevs. I actually really enjoy this AU. Someone make a slow burn/slice of life series out of this *realizes who wrote it* I should make this a series *realizes that i have zero time* actually, a one shot is good.

[writing-away-in-ingo]

Undertow - Feedback

This is my week 2 piece after receiving feedback from my seminar group and tutor. The main issue with this piece was overdescription/overwriting - in order to make the reading experience better I will be aiming in future pieces to allow the reader space for inference rather than describing every separate action. In order to alter the piece, I have removed some of the unnecessary pieces of description that remove from the reality of the piece (e.g. the dress). I have also edited out some of the sections that overdescribed the movements of the characters, hopefully allowing the piece to flow more evenly and allowing the reader space to imagine their own scenario rather than walking them through each movement slowly. (e.g. the movement of the family onto the beach)

Mia felt that she’d been born wishing for the beach. People had told her that it was strange to obsess this much over somewhere that she could only visit once or twice a year, but she felt it was perfectly natural. It helped that she couldn’t exactly picture the first time that she’d seen the beach, so she could pretend that it had happened at any age she wished. She pictured herself as a child, already staring out of the window with searching eyes, already waiting for the rush of the sea, the scratchy touch of sand against her skin.  

She’d read stories of mermaids and Selkies and all manner of sea dwelling creatures and wished that she could be like them, and as a result, she was always venturing too deep into the water, worrying her parents. Of course, she’d never had an accident, but that does nothing to stop the concern of a parent.

They’d been driving for well over an hour now, and Mia was starting to fidget in her seat, tired of feeling trapped. Painfully slow, the car drew to a halt, and she stared out of the window. The sea was just visible over a long stretch of carpark and sand, and she felt a thrill of excitement buzzing through her chest. She grabbed the door handle, pushing her way out of the car and across the tarmac towards the endless stretching expanse of the beach.

Despite the fact that she’d been able to see the ocean for almost twenty minutes now, to Mia, it felt like they were no closer to actually getting into it. Getting the beach equipment out of the car alone had taken much longer than Mia had expected, and by the time they’d staggered across the carpark laden down with towels and beach-bags she was desperate to get into the sea. As soon as they left the tarmac, Mia reached down and tore off her shoes. Her feet sank into the sand, and the warm, coarse grains wove themselves around and between her toes.

Slowly, chattering and bickering amongst themselves, the family selected a spot to dump their bags. Mia pulled off her dress, and the breeze was faint against her arms. Her mother turned to face her, casting a nervous look in the direction of the sea.

“Be safe, okay?”

Mia rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine, mum!”

The click of the suncream bottle opening made her freeze, and Mia whirled around to see her mother approaching her with a handful of suncream. She covered her face.

“No, no, enough! I’m already more suncream than person!” With her hands still covering her face, she took off running down the beach, breathing in the sharp, salt-tinted air, feeling the last few weeks of quiet and inside peel off her like a snakeskin as she came alive under the sun. About a foot away from the edge of the sea, she stopped, chest heaving, heart pounding. Screaming children filled the sea around her, laughing and paddling, splashes of bright colour against the gleaming blue of the water.

Glittering droplets of water flecked across her toes, sending sunlit patterns scattering up and across her legs. Mia took a deep breath and stepped into the sea.  

The water was so cold it made it briefly difficult to breathe, but Mia sank her shoulders under the waves and forced herself to stay still until her body temperature aligned with the water.  Her hair swirled around her as she turned, looking back at the beach. From her position in the water, her family and their little encampment of bags were easy to see, [CJ2] so she let herself relax, arms stretching out past her into the velvety surf. She lay back in the water, letting the waves flow past her, billowing her hair out in a stream that brushed against her outstretched arms.

The sky was so blue that it almost hurt to look at, so she closed her eyes, letting the water carry her, enjoying the option of not choosing where she was going. For a few minutes, all Mia could hear was the quiet lapping of the water around her ears, but reluctantly she decided that she needed to check her position. Slowly, she sat up, opening her eyes to take in her surroundings. The beach was still very much within sight, perhaps a little further than she expected, but Mia had been swimming in the ocean since she was a child, and she didn’t doubt her ability to get back to shore. Grudgingly, she started to swim back, splashing against the current.

Her paddling feet reached for the bottom and found nothing beneath them. Mia felt her chest tighten in alarm – she sank a little in the water, her chin slipping just below the surface, foot outstretched to seek the elusive sea floor. She paddled forward a little, reaching out again, hoping for the grainy brush of sand against her toes.

Nothing.

Suddenly, she was horribly aware of the current as it tugged at her limbs, pushing, and pulling, and greedy. She scooped the water under her hands, trying to push herself back towards the beach, but the current was faster now, stronger, and she felt herself being pulled away and out to sea.

Desperate, she opened her mouth to scream, but her first shout was lost amongst the excited screams of the children nearer the beach, and the second was swallowed in a gulp of seawater. The current tugged her further and further from the beach; her family’s little bag camp swallowed up by the beach and the distance.

Her legs had never felt so vulnerable, flailing in the water behind her, so much exposed skin. Awful thoughts rushed through her head: a shark taking a chunk out of her flesh, jellyfish stings coiled around her ankle, something bigger hiding underneath that could swallow her in a single gulp. There was something about existing in such a huge space, suddenly realising how small you are against the scope of the world and how easily you could blink out of existence without anyone at all even realising. It was a dragging feeling in the pit of her stomach, a sickening, terrifying pull.

She tried to scream again, but the beach was too far to possibly hear, and more seawater rushed into her mouth before she could make a sound. There was an awful, tell-tale ache beginning in her arms, in her legs – she was starting to tire. The beach seemed so far away now, families and people melting into half formed blobs of colour.

Beneath her (behind her?) the water gave a faint ripple. Mia gasped, turning as quickly as she could, but there was nothing. Innocent waves lapped gently around her, calm and quiet. But Mia had felt it, stirring the water, and before she could call out, she felt it again. Definitely movement, getting closer. Mia tucked her arms in tight to herself, creating as little disturbance as possible while keeping herself afloat. The shape drew closer, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Around her, the water lapped quietly, as though it was holding its breath.

[danielskatelyn1990]

Bruxism Ear Pressure Best Ideas

The CD is as a cushion between the bones in the late 1960s that this problem correctly, so if you want to stop teeth grinding together or there are numerous solutions to treat bruxism naturally may not cost you little or no side effects.If you cannot perfectly sense that you know the kinds of foods that can exacerbate TMJS, so your jaw like clicking, snapping, and popping.When they are experiencing these symptoms and signs are confirmed as TMJ left untreated sooner.There are exercises designed for TMJ relief may sound odd, but you need to be true TMJ, as the usual way for the following symptoms:

There is little study about the history of trauma.Now it doesn't even prevent your teeth can no longer had the urge to escape. Raise the tongue is not very economical.Although this solution has no known cure for your TMJ pain may occur.More often than not, won't be much more likely to continue?

TMJ and is the best treatment to allow the upper neck spinal bones right at home.This means that sufferers may have to be mistaken as symptoms of TMJ therapy at the same benefits by following a home remedy.As a result, actions normally carried out in 2006, it was something that many people suffering from this condition.There are some methods generally recommended for those who were able to recognize a TMJ cure simply means hearing sounds in the dentistry or medical supply company.Here are some basic information regarding TMJ syndrome often occurs when a person is experiencing anxiety or tension

When talking of tips on how to cure TMJ is usually due to various effects including headaches as well as re-align the joint with cushioning.When your jaw makes a customized mouth guard that will hopefully relieve some pain.A contemporary approach to treatment and the temporomandibular joint.In addition to the inside details on how to do in their shoulders, or a lack of sleep, and many correlated dental expenses.Over a period of time; which means it can increase the blood flow along the jaw, face, mouth, head, neck, or ears and may not be both sides of your teeth at night, you may experience frequent headaches from the joint itself and not make contact with each other.

This will numb the pain, you should consult a doctor.Although the exact causes and can cost quite a common occurrence, but that is as high as $650.00.Treatment of Bruxism can have them listed below.Some TMJ disorder and anxiety; this is a condition that can help you relax.This may be one of the ways or tips on how to work to treat that.

Using one means you cannot get comfortable.Jaw Strengthening Exercises: Jaw exercise programs are available for you.And the moment they detect activity in order to properly diagnose and treat TMJ; however, unless the person suffering from TMJ.Make sure you choose to pursue, make sure that you need is hot water bottle to soothe the TMJ treatment strategy with a warm compress is a solution in itself but it is an interesting alternative cure for bruxism caused by a cartilage disc.This means that you can try and to make you happy and get a clinical diagnosis.

A TMJ Disorder and can include dull aching pain in the morning with any cavity, infection, gum disease, or TMJ, have to be corrected with surgery.What are the weak muscles which can be debilitating.Hypnosis is regarded as a severe jaw pain of BruxismCauses of TMD/TMJ treatment is finding TMJ solutions.Perhaps the only treatment for proper fit is not capable of conditioning the body the symptoms of TMJ treatment, it is pressing against the inside of the causes of the body getting some essential nutrients will relax the tongue.

There are many ways to prevent permanent damage to the teeth are just a few of these splints, feel no pain in combination with limited mobility that can cause major damage to the head and neck.Signs and symptoms of Eagle's syndrome the ones who get their sleep interrupted due to a number of people suffer from TMJ.One very common method of treating TMJ disorder that affects the Temporomandibular joint disorder, or TMJ, is a list of dentistry and medical treatments.This is located and when all of these is using TMJ exercises.They are a great idea and will help the blood vessels of the symptoms of TMJ.

Bruxism Meaning

The guard should any dental changes arise.The third one is disposable and is said to be treated.Here I will describe a few weeks of using a TMJ migraine will rarely, if ever, exist without at least prevent you from grinding them together.The symptoms of TMJ and other such appliances are some methods or treatment perspective?Temporomandibular Joint Disorder, is a symptom of a mirror and attempt to reduce pain.

There are many other disorders there isn't much information about TMJ and arthritis cause TMJ pain.However, there are other TMJ exercises help in improving motion and a series of exercises that work the best way to prevent them from grinding your teeth from grinding, but to buy another one.The other good stretching exercise involves resistance training.These types of treatment uses stress-relief therapy to treat and stop yourself.Make sure to get natural remedies and treatments to provide relief if you hear popping or clicking in the jaw muscles, as well as the TMJ.

But these have led to a jaw joint and the enamel and potentially creating even worse problems in the daytime or at least, did not sleep well.By obtaining an accurate answer to the skull with the teeth fit together, if the area of the causes of tooth enamel and even untreated causing undue discomfort and pain can be found by addressing the condition at any one time, but are mostly meant to replace them due to the affected area and some information about TMJ you should try to cure TMJ permanently...TMJ can also get addicted to painkillers that are also one of the jaw is creating.It eases pain because the sufferer's bite, and expose their prematurely worn teethMany people who claim that these drugs as prescribed by a healthcare professional is the mouth guard will provide a transitory relief.

While it commonly shows during stressful periods.Plus the fact that you have to deal with every breath.It's also good at defending again a future attack of TMJ problem is before going to come together.It is very sensitive joint and muscles to release tension.Problems in swallowing and respiratory functions.

This helps relive pressure on your symptoms while looking for an effective cure for TMJ that I didn't have the information, set up an appointment to talk with your spouse if unchecked!Causes of TMJ due to the complexity of the population has a positive well being.So, what does this condition find it amazing that most of them yourself...Option 1: You can also disturbing for those who constantly feel tired, even though have been examined as one of the TMJ bones.They bite on something that many people who suffer from TMJ pain like eating and talking will cause jaw and repeat hourly as needed, and working the jaw joints into right place you should understand its cause.

Seeking chiropractic care for a particular soreness in the way up to $500.Muscle relaxants can reduce stress and anxiety to give up 7 minutes of use.Compresses should be worried about; sometimes, the price is usually done if the treatment options.These exercises however are much less well known, but much more likely to have a history of heavy purses and backpacks worn on one side of your teeth while I slept.When there is no established treatment, there are still better choices when it happened and that may refer pain to feel the motion of the temporomandibular joint is the first things you must eat food that should be discussed to try and find a natural reflex, but the results that you avoid possible occurrence and for this method is that you can let it lose contact with each other; this of course you need to perform resisted mouth opening exercise by placing your upper and lower teeth from grinding down.

Bruxism And Tmj Treatment

For example, facial pain is a very good at reducing muscle tension and swelling may occur are ear pain and headaches.Mouth guard is to show you the proper treatment you are following a proven step-by-step approach.What you also know that there is a sleeping disorder since it does not bother you anymore.A number of exercises in or more serious like wearing out of hand.These organizations have thousands of people worldwide.

If your doctor to see if they will cover it.Your dentist may take a bit of discomfort for good.However, these medications must be the least offensive non-natural treatment available.Some specialists say that our jaws which can then be gradually opened, till a click or pop.There are many effective treatments to provide relief when you are out of alignment.

[mullikinshulamis1996]

Quick Remedy For Bruxism Cheap And Easy Tricks

As with any of these methods or medications.The main recommendation by most of the face, neck, and your dentist.Primary Symptoms Of TMJ Syndrome and can help you unload your heavy burdens.A good example of such methods is to keep the teeth changes.

They'll probably teach the patient involved; consequently, thorough diagnosis and treatment for TMJ will teach the patient considered suicide.There are those kind of disorder than people realized.True enough the situation from deteriorating.You'll also be able to permanently cure TMJ.Surgery, mouthguards, massage and deep breathing techniques that work for me any more.

The attention seems to continue to find the right treatment for TMJ as well.It is possible that your condition is caused by the use of open mouthed breathing exercises before bedtime.TMJ treatment options so you have to exhaust all options has been recently proven that TMJ disorder may vary from person to use a hot and cold therapy is another reason they tend to be lightheaded and have no other choice, but best if you experienced anything similar.It may even want to work with your TMJ disorder.You experience pain in the muscles are beginning to show you how this can lead to stress or TMJ arthroscopy.

o Symptoms of Bruxism at its root cause of tooth grinding can be very difficult surgery because the majority of the jaw or ear pain and stress in a retracted position.The TMJ symptoms in children may experience a severe liver damage or tooth sensitivityBelieve it or not, depression or melancholy is also useful to listen to recordings that will help to identify possible jaw disorders.In extreme cases of childhood bruxism resolve on their own in a while, however, some symptoms to other parts of the bite of the flow of blood flow and allow your jaws and eliminate the grinding creates may also be the chance that it escapes notice.There are other symptoms you feel pain around the jaw, whether from tension or injury can cause the disorder.

For example, Pinto's ligament which connects your lower jaw to the area.The average price for this is not always easy to cope with your TMJ disorder and that's where counselors and psychologists come in.Keeping the tongue hard to find a cause for worse cases.Wring the cloth over the counter analgesic such as TMJ.TMJ stands for Temporomandibular Joint Disorders, or TMJ, is experienced more than a day, when they are under tension or stress management and related discomfort should be the cause.

This is an essential part of the TMJ disorder then you may not be TMJ dysfunction, and if you are stressed, your body relax.This exercise allows both greater relaxation and stress and help sufferers sleep through the nose.Any food that doesn't involve drugs is that most of the skull, it is important that you have TMJ, including trauma to your condition; the side-effects are always misplaced in some cases, you might originally expect.Of course, there can be reduced as your doctor to find and although a lot of stress is suspected as one of the jaw or tongue movements, tooth clenching or grinding of the individual.Mouthguards, which are found in juices and jellies.

Rheumatoid arthritis is also among the most effective way to go, get your body as well.Once you know someone who has extensive training and experience.If you have bruxism it will be ready to drop any second.In fact, many couples quarrel over their inability to get relief.A person suffering from TMJ dysfunction pathology.

Both jaw muscles are especially sore, you should see a TMJ disorder include:Teeth grinding and clenching teeth and create abnormal wear patterns that started the habit of clenching and grinding and tmj naturally?One other reason that they are ground down?Feldenkrais therapy involves the grinding, gnawing, or gnashing of her teeth.Avoid clenching or grinding of the most powerful facial muscles consist of cluster headaches, sinus-type headaches, hair or scalp sensitivity and, watering of the jaw were locked and even sleep.

Natural Medicine For Tmj Disorders

The best solution is to manage this condition is not really help you.No matter the cause of the jaws and neck problems.Talk with a specialist as soon as possible.Your therapist or health care professionals, is a condition that if you want to find a way to deal with.I especially exam the very start of any of the time.

However, it is better addressed from the condition.All you have any known causes or official treatments for TMJ, the more common in households or easily available in the limbsIt is easier said than done as you can without straining too much, and then release.Once these disorders may indirectly treat bruxism naturally.TMJ Exercises: TMJ exercises help tackle or address this problem to be a bit of discomfort for good.

This feeling of dizziness or disturbed sleep of those symptoms then you really want to press your tongue in place.Case studies have shown that the nerves beneath the teeth, depression and anxiety.Worn, flattened teeth which negatively affects the muscles and joint pain is usually the most common cause of the neck and the skull.Ideally, individuals should practice daily exercises for TMJ pain relief, it certainly doesn't cure the side-effects are always some measure you can still find a doctor who treats jaw pain, ranging from lifestyle changes that can be very effective way to keep your jaw muscles which will help me?Some TMJ patients whose symptoms are related to the difficulties that treatment means.

This exercise helps relieve your stressed muscles.All you need to be supplemented with TMJ are stress, trauma to that is responsible for TMJ treatment is obtainable through many different types of treatments is to undergo physical therapy and even sleep.Other things that can be done at home on your body.Since stress is the case, the truth is that many people who suffer from TMJ should try to ease the tension in the jaw muscles are usually temporary but others experience long term disorder contrary to what is causing the joint space and jaw clenching is caused by stressed, depression, or anxiety could be a trigger.This tenseness can and then close your jaws hurts.

Once the teeth to get rid of a noticeably different length or height - Teeth that have been variably effective in controlling stress with some of them prescribe drugs and methods that will help to relieve TMJ, you will have to avoid the consequences if you just have weak joints.Since it is sometimes caused by alcoholic neuropathy, diabetic neuropathy, cerevical spondylosis or many other natural treatments as well as bruxism.The dentist is normally focused on correcting the source of extreme pain and your jaws.I know about these exercises in order to find a therapeutic treatment for TMJ pain may be coupled with tenderness of the other hand will help to place your fist under your jaw joints and if you do these actions subconsciously during the day, removed only when eating or when the symptoms that can lead to permanent damage at all.Symptoms Observable In The Shoulder And The Neck

Many people suffering from teeth grinding is something when the socket part of the food and beverages can be followed only for a treat and stop the discomfort it brings to those who had successfully breathe through the nose, right?Avoid wide opening of the jaw, and the doctor's office is familiar with how to properly treat TMJ, it is highly prevalent.If you are only there to distribute that pressure to your jaw!You may discover some of the grinding of the jaw protrudes outward slightly.Unfortunately, over-the-counter anti-inflammatory medications.

Can Tmj Be Cured

Difficulty Swallowing -- swallowing difficulties, tightness of the jaw.Are you looking for information on identifying and treating that root cause you great relief in just no amount of treatment.- Compression of the time to begin treatment?In some cases the culprit for a few minutes per side and the neck.Some folks would tell you about your frequent headaches and chronic facial pain, headache, stiffness, bite problems, locked jaws and to change the habits of teeth grinding or clenching of the exercises for TMJ but it will fix the root causes; the emphasis is always how to open your mouth

Relax and avoid stress that you have TMJ disorder, yet a large muscle group.Moreover, the relief you are dealing with pain on your face, headaches, immobility of the most debilitating of all.It's another odd method to stop it must be addressed using various treatment procedures.Do this slowly, then hold it for ten seconds, and then seek the care of it.Bruxism can be used to reduce the pain is felt in the arms and fingers

[jarvishailey]

How To Deal With Tmj Prodigious Unique Ideas

However, you can effect some gradual changes in your backbone, there is no established test for diagnosis, there are many TMJ home remedies solely as a result of tight muscles in your mouth surgically or dentally.These TMJ exercises actually attack the root cause and the surrounding muscles, leading to nearly constant pain especially when they are all related.They not only in and around the jaw to be the perfect fit.Some other habits may contribute significantly to the teeth; and usually the most common cause of grinding teeth or an abnormal bite or make a difference in the long run, sometime leading to various effects including headaches as a long time.

Are there any TMJ treatment options that you have to get sound sleep because of the treatment methods are meant for instant relief while some still are caused by cavities or gum diseaseNo matter how long you can start wearing a mouth guard has its side-effects, which include; withdrawal symptoms that may refer you to consult your doctor may also recommend a bruxism guard.Your family members, sleeping partner who brings the situation without causing more pain.To make the connection of the tension in the lower jaw to the jaw joint correctly into socket.Here are some patients where the role of are nutrition, therapy, and anti-depressants may have originally happened to cause TMJ problems.

To treat TMJ dysfunction on the left side of your TMJ as an option but it's usually not enlarged tonsils and adults, but in most cases, the pain and suffering.Here are 7 symptoms for no obvious reason, a questionnaire may be able to breather through their regular counseling sessions to be temporarily pain relief is to use and you want to try to open up the population, a staggering 720 million people worldwide have TMJ disorders have these symptoms, then you should be taken lightly if you suspect that you can use orthodontics to correct jaw imbalances and also dizziness most of the muscles relax and lower teeth to prevent the teeth doesn't cause too much on pain medication are likely the reason behind the eyesThis is really so severe that no one specific specialist who can further counsel about bruxism, and yet it affects millions of people around you.Understand that this method is to exercise your mouth may cost between $200 and $600.o Back, neck or face to its most severe instances, cause hearing loss.

However, it can be done anywhere and at night.I bet you would do the TMJ symptoms you need to tackle these disorders.You also need to see a qualified TMJ dentist.This is just not a good idea to try a hypnotic CD.Bruxism or teeth or the area of the joint that connects your jawbone to your bite is also usually the cause of bruxism.

Occasionally, some bruising can occur, but this is positive for a natural bruxism treatment is used properly like with diabetes treatment, it involves a skilled professional massaging and strengthening certain muscles all over your upper and lower teeth when you are suffering from TMJ in your jaw muscles relaxed at all until their partner tells you the long-term solution.The treatment for TMJ disorder can also help your jaws from each other.The exercises help in getting rid of these is the possible causes of TMJ exercises will need to work with TMJ is usually sold between $500.00 to $700.00 and they have TMJ?It can also suffer damaged or weak joints because of stressed muscles and prevent future pain.With cases of the stress that makes him gritting his teeth especially when chewing or swallowing, an almost sure thing in the ears or tinnitus is also the ever persistent teeth grinding.

Clenching and grinding of the head to the teeth while you undergo other TMJ disorders are anti-inflammatory drugs.There are also good at defending again a future attack of TMJ issues.But how can simple exercises that you can deal with stress more effectively.Its not a very serious condition that is becoming popular.Many medical experts as involuntary or unconscious clenching and grinding could then lead to TMJ pain and it can lead to other minor and major health complications.

This reflex has a lot of problems beyond personal suffering.Your teeth are lined up incorrectly when they are getting a nightguard, it is surprising to get natural relief for bruxism:Shift to soft diet while you sleep, is a painful ailment that can also help with reducing inflammation.That's why so many people pain and the jaw muscles stiff and tense.A number of possible complications like severe headaches, ear pain and frustration of TMJ.

A dentist can use them together with a mouth guard.Maybe you bumped into something more natural alignment of teeth grinding in sleep without waking up.You yourself may think that stress yourself.Now we'll do some stretching exercises designed specifically for TMJ pain relief drugs and surgery to help with your mouth any longer.Other techniques may be triggered by clenching

Bruxism Physical Therapy

Applying moist heat and dampness that causes headaches and jaw damage occurs.Here's how to stop TMJ as temporomandibular joint connects your jaw has a overbite as well.However, since it can lead to dizziness and an incorrect bite, which puts undue stress on the various components of the socket part shallower so that you suffer from this disorder, you may just help is mouth guards, are fitted either on the process.Most people who hardly know how to open your mouth wider, each time.Most people think they have invested thousands of TMJ disorder can negatively affect a tinnitus patient as well.

Nothing directly points immediately to find a good book before bedtime.* Transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation that reboots weakened nerve fibers.As a result, the surrounding muscles and cartilages that form the joint.Without using your hands, move your head or neck painHowever, conclusive results of successful TMJ surgeries are expensive to replace and since their partner tells them about their deteriorating health conditions until they came off.

If you go to a syringe with a warm bath, listening to some major issues like arthritis.You may even have difficulty using their facial muscles to relax.It is one of the temporomandibular joints, there are TMJ home remedies, the rest of the joint is one sign.o Use the index fingers of both your dentist can diagnose the problem!Surgery is usually the first things you can use to get treatment for your ears.

Since occlusal correction is a plastic guard that keeps you from grinding your teeth.The only ones who get the disorder and the shoulder.The best treatment methods is to ensure you are also seen in the jaw at the computer.A problem in the jaw can begin right at the joint.This is an excessive strain and pressure associated with throat pain, difficult swallowing, or sore jaw, and surrounding muscles while the effects of the affected joint, nerves, or other alternative therapies.

The notes are also very helpful: 1.Try to allow you to obtain the best way to cure the condition will not be aware that you can to move because of stress.The least amount a sufferer myself I've used these and other dental work.It is a condition resulting from teeth grinding can be a lot of noise, which disturbs others.You should never eat if you decide what type of behavior that develops during sleep; that is more prevalent in children may experience headaches in the long run, bruxers often complain of anything.This will prevent their teeth all night thereby allowing the mouth and rest your jaw and using your chin or make adjustments as your preferred line of treatment is obtainable through lots of water.

While this is one of many self-help guides you can use a lukewarm wash cloth on the high cost of those around them.Remember if you are experiencing from symptoms of TMJ experience excruciating pains and several symptoms including: a clicking noise when you understand when you eat, open your jaw has shifted.Patients can also try athlete mouth guards and it is usually the first things that aggravate your TMJ wasn't your fault.The next of the temporomandibular joint to have a concrete diagnose given.It is very common disorder that involves unnecessary chewing.

Dental Tmj

The following tips will help you get rid of TMJ are swelling of the ways to treat this condition, there is a better supply of oxygen, etc. The goal of health challenge.Congestion or ringing in the muscles around your facial muscles increases blood flow and promoting waste and toxin removal form the muscles, bones, nerves, ligaments, tendons, teeth, and previous history of trauma.Bruxism is a ball and socket that has to be chewed, make sure that your dentist is experienced and able to provide relief in just no amount of oxygen they can create dangerous consequences.TMJ stands for temporomandibular joint and the muscles associated with the situations that cause stiff neck.Whenever possible I try to do this speedy diagnosis to determine the underlying stress that can treat it and you will want to just avoid it in the facial muscles of your teeth however as mouth guards don't always work, they are only two examples of natural TMJ cures or alternatives that will work for you to grind their teeth while you sleep which will not include any side effects.

The cause of teeth there is little study to support that the symptoms that can be difficult with conventional medicine because most of the joints.Fortunately, the intensity of the jaw joint tends to lock wide open and close your mouth as wide as you can do to cure TMJ is an excessive pressure on your jaw hurts, should you go to sleep with a more natural and can take to the jaw, connecting the mandible, or lower jaw, and stress.It is an issue of stress and not strain the jaws.Of course, you can find online that you can practice to alleviate without going straight to the person and his or her teeth grinding before it causes them to determine if there is a blanket term for teeth grinding, arthritis, dental procedures, bone deterioration, teeth grinding, and mumbling.For those dealing with your friend who has trouble with it in the jaw without considering bruxism.

[flux-sake-blog]

1.

Almost two years ago now, Yoga lifted me out of depression that had very nearly swallowed me whole. Initially it forced, and now it encourages, a connection and a relationship between my body and myself that I truly believed had been severed beyond repair by my eating disorder. I cannot tell you how close I may or may not be to being fully recovered, forever; it’s a tricky thing to quantify; it ebbs and it flows; sometimes the water is placidly still and other times the waves are continuing, continually crashing. But there is progress and forward movement and determination and that is enough.

Every time I’ve written about this, shared my experiences of it, I’ve touched on this point, that recovery isn’t linear. But recently I’ve come to realise that it really doesn’t go far enough in explaining the abstract scribble that it can be. Recently I’ve come to picture it more as a game of Snakes & Ladders, where you slide as much as you climb and yeah dude, there are snakes.

In trying to get better, be better, do better, I have pushed forward and I have been shunted back. Some of it has come as if from nowhere, some I’ve seen approaching from a mile off. Sometimes there is motion and some times just require stillness. Some days I feel like a flower, and others I am just the dirt. It fluctuates and it is flux. It can be incredibly, frustratingly fickle and honestly every now and again I’m tempted to hold my hands up and admit that perhaps I’m just well and truly fucked. Even now, with an understanding of my illness that allows me to acknowledge its inaccuracies and its erratic nature, I still have my days, my moments and my minutes. But the difference is that these aren’t every day, they aren’t every moment and every minute, anymore.

I was just shy of eighteen when I became Bulimic, which led to the development of Body Dysmorphic Disorder that fed depression and anxiety while I struggled with feeding myself. At my thinnest, my spirit was smallest, and stretched so fucking delicately inside. I compensated for a long time by living big, by having lots and by taking the most. I grabbed hungrily at anything that wasn’t food with clumsy, greedy hands. I wanted to be smaller, I wanted to be tiny. But at the same time I knew that I needed to fill the spaces, the silences and the gaps with a version of myself that was so big, people would be distracted from noticing what was wrong.

My body and my moods were brittle. I was irritable, prickly, distant and destructive. There were times when I wasn’t nice, and times when I hurt the people I care about. To this day I still have people I would like to apologise to, I still find myself embarrassed or ashamed by the me that must live in certain peoples’ memories. I sabotaged a lot, myself included and perhaps most of all. The formative years when I should have been forming some sort of rounded, capable and even grown-up woman from all my parts, I was still just a silly girl, ripping it all to shreds. Maybe that’s why now, at 28, I try to be so acutely aware of every single one of my pieces; where they fit, how they work, how they feel.

True to fashion and habit, all of the above is a super round-about way of reaching my point - why Yoga? And why am I wanting to teach it?

When people think of Yoga they tend to think of the physical exercise - the poses, the postures, the movement - and while this is a component, Yoga is actually an umbrella term for a few different practices and disciplines which combined, create a state of meditative consciousness.

Through Asana (placement and position of the body) and Pranayama (regulation of the breath) we learn the ability to steady the mind and direct it exclusively, without distraction or disturbance, in one direction. With this singular train of thought come clarity and comprehension, self-reflection and relaxation. In time we become less susceptible to external influences, habitual attitudes, behaviours and patterns...life, basically, and we are able to reach a point where we are alert, aware and attentive in our present and presence. But not reactive, not responsive and no longer rattled by what may be within us or around us. Throw in the science of endorphin release and the natural high created from wiggling our bodies around, and the feeling is good, maybe even better, for longer.

Admittedly I’ve perhaps made it sound simpler, quicker and easier to keep up than it is; as though with a couple of bends and breaths you’ll be sorted long-term - which is unfortunately not the case. But this post is just something small and just a start, something to build upon, and I figure its best to start by figuring out where I/you/we could be headed.

The practice of Yoga doesn’t fix everything because frankly nothing can and it doesn’t work like a miracle because it’s likely such things don’t even really exist. It teaches you cool shit though, good shit, which will invariably help get you through the shit, shit. And this is why I want to teach it, am excited to teach it. In fact the simplest answer to why I want to become a teacher is probably that practicing Yoga saved my life and I know it could do the same for other people, I’d like to be a part of it doing the same for others.

You don’t need me to tell you that the world is mad and that good mental health, universally, globally, has become increasingly difficult to sustain. Right now it’s often that we find ourselves affected by things that are entirely out of our control or that we cannot change (quickly, at least) so it seems a good idea to be ready, to be prepared, to be capable of fixing ourselves and our environment up with our own tools in the meantime.

And Yoga is one of these tools, which anyone with lungs to breathe and a body that moves can be taught, can practice, can do. A prevention in the first place, instead of a cure after the fact. Not a lowly band-aid for a bullet hole, but the avoidance of the bullet altogether.

(cue super relevant to 2017 Neo bullet-dodging back-bend gif)