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riplever · 4 months

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[Translation] Translating my favorite moments from Shapolang

/*SPOILER WARNING*/

This is my prep work for future fic-writing.

Gu Yun suddenly goes, "Shall I leave the army to Chang Geng in the future?"

Shen Yi is stupefied. "Just how badly do you want him dead?"

From the look on his face, Shen Yi is very much taking pleasure in his suffering. Gu Yun reaches for the back of head and shoves him face-down into the blankets; then he drifts away listlessly, thinking it might be time to hang himself with a waistband of sorts.

Gu Yun knows the human heart all too well — he knows the more you avoid some things, the more heinously taboo it becomes; like what happens when poison reaches the bone — in far too deep to be removed. So it's with that logic in mind that he decides to show Chang Geng all he has to show — it's just his body after all, what else is there to it?

"If I were born a decade earlier..." Chang Geng suddenly starts.

Liao Ran's eyelid twitches.

Word by heavy word, Chang Geng finishes his sentence: "This world would be a different one."

And he never would ever let Gu Yun go.

Gu Yun does feel that he has the bigger responsibility in this whole affair, and for that he even feels guilty. Under ordinary circumstances, Chang Geng never would have gotten this close to him were if not for his unspoken approval. And even if he hadn't had enough wits to react on the spot back then, thereby leading to their "accident", he still should not have procrastinated... and allowed things to get to their present state.

"That's why..." Gu Yun could only utter those two words. His voice is cracked beyond recognition, and it was physically taxing for him to clear his throat enough to finish the sentence. "So that's why you prescribed him tranquilizers."

(T/N: I find it so interesting that 安神药 is translated as "tranquilizers" in the fandom. It's not the first thing I would have thought of, but it's quite fitting for the wild wolf analogy and is a very chilling word to see.)

At the end of his flute performance, an extremely self-satisfied Gu Yun turns around with a face full of expectations and prompts him. "Wasn't that just lovely?"

"..." Chang Geng hesitates not for a short period of time, and in the end answers sincerely. "It invigorates one's spirit and... will definitely keep our enemies at bay."

Chang Geng couldn't resist any longer. He leans down and plugs Gu Yun's lips with his own.

"My general," his thinks, heart at once sweetened and sorrowed. "Throughout history, how many have been able to shed their armors and retire in one piece from the battlefield? What was that promise for, if none other than to break my heart?"

Unlike the parting kiss on the city wall all those years ago, this one contained much less desperate passion. All of a sudden, a section of Gu Yun's armored heart caves inwards, revealing its softest and most vulnerable underbelly. It's this heart that thinks, "From here on, this person is mine."

That look in Chang Geng's eyes, that expression — Shen Yi's eyes are blinded, and he gravely regrets stepping foot in the manor at this time. Gu Yun, for his part, is just as mute — his waist was pained simply from hearing the word "Stepfather".

Gu Yun wipes the salt from his mouth, reeling from the accusation at being called an "animal". He felt so grievously misunderstood that he could do no more than sit mutely in his corner, unable to plead his own case.

As he chewed on the salted yellow fish, a thought occurs to Gu Yun and he puts half of it in Shen Yi bowl. "How about you finish up dinner and get going soon? You were born with eyes, surely with them you can see how busy he is from having worked so hard all day long. Don't impose here."

An insulted Shen Yi very nearly chokes on the damned salted yellow fish bone. He retaliates lowly, "I come all this way here to play counsellor to your worries, and this is how you thank me? Gu Zixi, you would rather lust for sex than be loyal to our friendship — so this is what they mean when they say time reveals all colors!"

Gu Yun hasn't even gotten the last syllable out of his mouth when he feels a sudden warm wetness on the side of his neck. It's Chang Geng — taking advantage of the present chaos to lick a strip across Gu Yun's skin.

Through the cacophony, he could hear that low voice murmuring right inside his ear. "It's fairly romantic to die for love in this manner, wouldn't you say?"

Gu Yun is speechless.

(My favorite #2)

Perhaps the most unpredictable thing in this world is not the ill intents of one's enemies, but the heart of one's lover — oftentimes sincere, yet still, at times — fleeting.

Chang Geng pleads, "Zixi..."

"There's no need for Zixi," Gu Yun responds evenly. "You may continue addressing me as 'Stepfather'."

Chang Geng smiles without shame, and kisses him with the intent to please. This is something he'd recently discovered — that Gu Yun likes these sticky little kisses, a kind of light pressure between lips. And if he tops this off by staring at him with a careful and attentive expression afterwards, then Gu Yun will say "yes" to just about anything he asks for.

(My favorite #1)

As he said this, there is an almost imperceptible furrow between his brows, his expression practically bleak. Chang Geng has only ever seen this expression one other time, and it was during that new year's eve when they were aboard the Yuan. The Gu Yun of then had toasted three cups of wine to a legion of departed souls, his face etched with this exact same stinging loneliness — as though not even the combined might of all the lanterns in the city could bring him into light.

Chang Geng's eyes flash, and seeing that no one on the cart was paying them any mind, offers in a tantalizingly low voice, "Let me again tonight and I'll show you the blueprint for the railroad."

Horse whip in hand, Gu Yun leans back. "Let you? How many times have I let you? You've used your injuries as an excuse countless of times and you've never let me have my way. Forget it."

Liao Ran raises his eyes to meet his gaze.

Chang Geng's expression is inscrutable. "Ask Chen Qingxu for all the Gu Zixi secrets she's been keeping from me."

(My favorite #3)

Chang Geng's grip tightens as he holds Gu Yun almost protectively. For the first time in his heart, there's none of the dependency he feels towards his little stepfather, and none of the desire he feels towards his beloved. Instead, he feels as though he's cradling a young and delicate child in his arms.

In all the time he's spent ruminating on impossible what-ifs and what-could-have-beens, Chang Geng often tried to imagine what their relationship would have been like had he been been born ten, or even twenty years earlier.

And today, on the bitingly cold frontlines of the Jiangbei warfront, the missing time that he yearned so wretchedly for shrinks to a few tiny inches, left to the dust as he crosses those decades in a single step.

From head to toe, Gu Yun's body is soft everywhere. There seemed to be an invisible wound on his chest, aching dully at the lighest of efforts. He fumbles around blindly by his side, finding his monocle glasses with some fluster. "Let me..."

His head lowered, Chang Geng ignores him. He gently grips Gu Yun's wrist and pushes it back down.

(My favorite #4)

Chang Geng takes the blade and leaves.

To show that he had most definitely kept his word, and had not even so much as tip-toed past the flap of his tent, Gu Yun stood by the entrance as he waited for Chang Geng. He didn't care for any of the blood, sweat or dirt and immediately pulled him into an embrace.

It's only now that Chang Geng feels that bone-deep fatigue. Wobbling ever so slightly, he grasps Gu Yun by the waist and mutters into his ear: "I'm never letting you fight another battle again."

In his ear, Chang Geng whines "pitifully": "I don't have any money to give you. My man took all of it and spent it on wine and women. Why don't you take my body instead?"

His accent is impressive for having spent those few months between the two camps — though Gu Yun doesn't know from whence exactly he'd picked up this wet, nasally cadence from. The syllables for "my man" were especially exaggerated, drawled so petulantly long that it seeped deep into Gu Yun's ears and sent a shiver running straight down his spine. He's hapless against the guiles of a beauty like this one, and can only hand over everything as demanded.

But without any avenue to share his joy, the Yan King could only satisfy himself in secret guilty pleasure. After sending Miss Chen away, he crept back to the manor at night, and wrote a letter to Gu Yun from his room. He didn't post it, and instead tucked it under Gu Yun's pillow when the words had dried.

That still wasn't gratifying enough. Retrieving his treasure trove containing all of Gu Yun's letters, he laid on the bed and re-read every single one of them until each and every last handwritten character and turn of phrase was freshly etched into his brain. With all that in mind, his next move was to craft a "reply" from Gu Yun by imitating his love's handwriting and prose to the letter. His one-man performance only felt deserving then.

In an instant, the General's tent falls quiet — while Gu Yun alone was silenced out of fear, the others were shocked speechless to see the "new emperor" mentioned in the letter standing right here in the flesh.

Only a man like Shen Yi would break an ice this thick. "... Don't even think of blaming me for delivering the message slow."

#sha po lang #stars of chaos #gu yun #chang geng #changgu #my translations

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iammionmi · 1 year

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Time takes time 2023 is mine!

So, recovering from any traumatic experience takes time....people say all sorts of things, in varying degrees of helpfulness, ranging from the fairly unobtrusive 'it's gonna take time', via the most insipid pop psychology of 'time is a great healer', all the way through to my personal bug bear (& now trigger to a conditioned response of dis-proportionate rage which will see me, mentally if not physically, rip the face off whichever unsuspecting but nevertheless bland-unimaginative-uncompassionate-unempathetic fool whom utters the phrase) 'this too shall pass'.

no sh1t, sherlock, yes it will pass....but that doesn't help whatever insurmountable problem or inordinate amount of mental, emotional or physical pain and suffering that are currently being endured.

They may well pass, at some point, but right now they are HERE....so why say something so pointlessly ridiculous to someone in distress?!

......furthermore, they never seem to have any facts with which to back up this glib attempt to reduce your life-altering issue into some throw-away event of no significance just because at some point in the future, according to the laws of impermanence and probability, your circumstances/situation will have changed and this will no longer be THE most pressingly urgent and important aspect of your life; nor any reliable time scale indicator/predictor to which they can point as to WHEN this too shall pass?

Because time does take time, it can be very hard to keep going through it, when you're in it, when the conclusion has not yet been reached, whilst you are still lost in the midst of time. Often time takes more time to resolve the issue than the time it took to create it.

(think of a pregnancy and they changes it caused to a woman's body as her shape changes and organs move and are pushed up into the ribs to make space, and how the skin must stretch to allow for this time of accelerated growth, and the balance of hormones in the body changes ....that takes 9 months.....so why expect her body to go 'back to normal' to her pre-pregnancy figure and equilibrium in any less than 40 weeks?!!! In fact really, she will continue to be physiologically as well as mentally and emotionally affected by having carried and given birth to a child for most likely a couple of years)

This is especially true of experience and events which are traumatic.

in fact, my own most recent 'dark night of the soul' aka 'time takes time', following a dark period of my life lasting 2 and a half years, has lasted fully 3 years and 3 months before I have just started to see glimmers of hope that a new day (new era of my life) is finally about to dawn. I can say that now. 3 weeks ago, I could not.

And at several points during, in particular the past year, I scoffed at the notion that 'time' was ever going to make any difference because....well quite frankly, I had fecking well given it time, and more time, until having passed the 2 and a half year point, I very nearly collapsed all time because how could anything possibly hope to get better when having given it ample time already(in my, and any other reasoned opinion!) without there being any perceivable/ discernible improvement?! ....but that's the thing about time, it takes its own time. Not the time I or anyone else tries to prescribe ....and you can't condense time, in that you cannot force the process, it will always find its own way to realign things, and usually in entirely unwelcome and uncomfortable ways.

which leads me to the point of this reflective blog as I head into 2023, that I recognise the truth in this final, and now treasured saying "Take the Time it Takes, It Takes less Time"

All the healing, all the lessons that come through time, are being delivered in Perfect time if we accept and allow them. The moment we force or attempt to short-cut the process, we're only prolonging the night instead of looking to the coming dawn.

2022 was arguably the worst year of my life, and yet I step into 2023 feeling my best. and the difference is just at the very moment I allowed time to take time, it met me there and this year is mine.

my hope is that maybe someone else out there who has felt that all is lost, that things will never improve - that if they could've, they would've....anyone who wants to give up cos its just been too hard for too long.....will meet me here and feel this truth, that hope does exist, that they will hold on, that life is not all a cruel trick and that on just the other side of this feeling is a sense of healing and wholeness and purpose and worth and joy that is worth enduring this final stretch (as torturous as the not-knowing-when can be) of the night, because the very darkest moment is followed by that first glimpse of dawn. And knowing that I was in the dark only 3 weeks ago, I can tell you with absolute confidence that that first glimpse, the return of hope is nothing short of glorious! it is beautiful. It is enchanting. It is all I thought it never would be, and i very nearly missed it. so brave soul, hold on, keep looking for the next 'best step' you can take and keep your eye out for that first thread of hope, first glimmer of light that announces your coming dawn.

#2022 #2023 #newyear #time #timetakestime #mentalhealth

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horsesarecreatures · 1 year

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Book Review: An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness by Kay Redfield Jamison

This was a relatively short memoir about what it’s like to live with manic depressive illness. The author is a Professor of Psychiatry at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine, and is the coauthor of the standard medical text on manic-depressive illness. She grew up in a military family and moved around a lot. It wasn't until high school that she started having manic episodes, though her sister showed symptoms much earlier. It was implied that her father and sister also had manic depression, but she never said what happened to them in the end, probably for privacy reasons.

One of the major focuses of the book was the necessity of taking lithium in combination with psychotherapy, and why the author and so many others struggled to stay on the medication. When lithium first started being prescribed to treat manic depression, the typical dose was a lot higher than what is standard today, and the pills were not in slow-release form. This really caused the author to feel ill, struggle with concentration, and lose coordination. Once an avid athlete, she had to give up sports, including riding horses because she had accidents such as falling over jumps. In addition to this, she also stopped taking lithium because she felt that she was at her happiest and most productive state when she was slightly manic.

It wasn't until financial ruin from many irrational manic shopping sprees (one of which caused her to buy over 30 snakebite kits, among other things), numerous ruined relationships, and an almost successful suicide attempt that left her in a multi-day coma that it finally sank in for her that she had to take lithium as prescribed. Luckily, after lowering the dose and invention of the slow-release form, she no longer had the side-effects she used to have from it. However, she said that while she thinks it is highly unlikely that she would go off lithium again, she still has the temptation sometimes because she misses the highs she used to have.

She also talked quite a bit about her education and career. Throughout her college and graduate student years, she was not taking lithium and unsurprisingly went through frequent major depressions. Her transcripts were filled with Fs, but when she was feeling more euphoric, she published an almost unhuman amount of scientific research papers, and these saved her. When she was hired as a teaching professor of psychology at UCLA, she still was not taking lithium. Despite her major depressions and manic episodes, she never got herself fired or involved in a malpractice suit, though she did often take self-imposed leaves. She even managed to get tenured, which was not an easy thing for a woman to do during that time period.

Initially, she told very few people (except those that directly supervised her) about her illness for fear of professional repercussions. But as the years went on and she stabilized from taking her lithium as prescribed, and the stigmas somewhat lessened, she told more people and the responses she got were largely positive. When she switched to teaching at Johns Hopkins, the chairman even said, “Kay, dear, I know you have manic-depressive illness. If we got rid of all the manic-depressives on the medical school faculty, not only would we have a much smaller faculty, it would also be a far more boring one.”

All in all it was a very interesting read with a wry sense of humor spread throughout.

#an unquiet mind #kay redfield jamison #book #memior #bookblr #book review

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naturalrights-retard · 9 months

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STORY AT-A-GLANCE

Heartburn pills like omeprazole (Prilosec) are improperly prescribed in up to 70% of cases; they’re also linked to osteoporosis, infections and nutrient deficiencies

Pepcid (famotidine) is an H2 blocker that can be used to wean off Prilosec and other proton pump inhibitors. It also has very powerful anti-serotonin effects and can be purchased OTC

One of the most common causes of heartburn is insufficient amounts of stomach acid; consuming sauerkraut or cabbage juice is one way to stimulate your body to produce stomach acid

While processed foods should be avoided, consuming a Mediterranean diet, which focuses on fruits, healthy fats, lean meats and vegetables, may be as effective as medications in treating acid reflux symptoms

Ginger tea is beneficial, as ginger accelerates gastric emptying, which, when impaired, contributes to heartburn

Astaxanthin, deglycyrrhizinated licorice, slippery elm and vitamin D can also help relieve heartburn

Omeprazole (Prilosec), a proton-pump inhibitor (PPI) used to treat heartburn, stomach ulcers and gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), is the sixth most common drug prescribed in the U.S.1 Other PPIs include lansoprazole (Prevacid), pantoprazole (Protonix), rabeprazole (AcipHex) and esomeprazole (Nexium) — and they’re often prescribed to reduce stomach acid,2 in a misguided attempt to relieve heartburn.

An estimated 113 million PPI prescriptions are filled worldwide each year,3 but it’s estimated that up to 70% of people taking them shouldn’t be.4 Fortunately, there are many natural methods for heartburn that provide relief without exposing you to the many side effects linked to these popular heartburn pills.

PPIs Are Intrinsically Taken and Should Not Be Used

Initially intended only for treatment of several serious conditions, including bleeding ulcers, severe acid reflux involving damage to the esophagus and Zollinger-Ellison syndrome,5 a rare condition that causes your stomach to produce excess acid, proton pump inhibitors (PPIs) were not meant to be used for everyday heartburn.

Further, they’re only supposed to be taken for a short period of time. Using them long-term can be habit-forming and dangerous, yet they’re commonly prescribed to hospital patients, who often continue taking them after being discharged, with no planned stopping point.6 In fact, up to 80% of patients are inappropriately prescribed a PPI at discharge.7 The consequences can be dire, as PPIs are associated with a number of adverse effects, including:8

Osteoporosis and related fractures

Community-acquired pneumonia

Clostridium difficile colitis

Cardiovascular morbidity

Hypomagnesemia, or low magnesium levels

Research shows taking PPIs for more than two years increases your risk of vitamin B12 deficiency,9 while the drugs are also linked to dementia, to the extent that researchers concluded, "The avoidance of PPI medication may prevent the development of dementia."10

Why PPIs Cause More Harm Than Good

PPIs inhibit the proton pump in your body that produces hydrochloric acid. But excess stomach acid is rarely the primary trigger of heartburn and indigestion. On the contrary, heartburn is typically an indicator you have too little hydrochloric acid, which means if you add a PPI medication, you are only going to exacerbate the problem by decreasing your acid level even more.

Because hydrochloric acid (and pepsin) is necessary to break down protein in your intestinal tract, reduced acid levels affect your body's ability to absorb nutrients. Without adequate protein breakdown, you also increase your risk of dysbiosis, an imbalance in gut microbiome between harmful and friendly bacteria.

As these undigested protein molecules ferment in your intestines, they become food for pathogens such as Candida, C. difficile and Helicobacter pylori (H. pylori). If you’re currently taking PPIs, be aware that you can develop both tolerance to and dependance on them. As explained in Gastroenterology & Hepatology:11

"The treatment itself may also predispose patients to a need for ongoing therapy. In suppressing acid, PPIs stimulate the body's feedback loop that tries to reactivate acid secretion.

If the drug is removed, there is a potential risk of rebound hypersecretion, creating a sort of dependency on the drug because the body is acclimated to having acid suppressed. In addition, ongoing feedback stimulation creates a need for ongoing therapy to control symptoms."

For this reason, it's important to wean yourself off them gradually to avoid severe rebound symptoms. Do not stop taking PPIs cold turkey. Instead, work with your health care provider to gradually lower the dose you're taking while simultaneously implementing the natural strategies that follow.

Once you get down to the lowest dose of the PPI, you can start substituting an over-the-counter (OTC) H2 blocker. There are many like Tagamet, Cimetidine or Ranitidine, but Zantac (famotidine) is by far the best and the safest. Then, gradually wean off the H2 blocker over a period of several weeks.

Famotidine is a potent serotonin antagonist and can help those who are taking SSRIs to come off them as they will help lower serotonin levels. Unlike most drugs, it is a relatively safe drug if used long term.

Download this Article Before it Disappears

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What Causes Heartburn?

One of the most common causes of heartburn is insufficient amounts of stomach acid. Your body needs stomach acid to properly digest food and absorb nutrients. If you don’t have enough, undigested food in your gastrointestinal tract can lead to indigestion and heartburn.

The leftover food in your gut can also cause bacterial overgrowth, including H. pylori, which is linked to gastritis, peptic ulcer disease and symptoms of acid reflux. As mentioned, if you use PPIs, they cause low stomach acid and, over time, may cause the glands that secrete acid in your stomach to stop working altogether.12

Hiatal hernia, in which the top of your stomach bulges through your diaphragm, is another potential cause of heartburn, as it allows food and acid to back up into your esophagus.13 Physical therapy and chiropractic care can sometimes be effective in resolving this condition.

Food allergies are another potential contributing factor, with caffeine, alcohol and nicotine among the top culprits. However, eating processed foods can also contribute, as it negatively alters your gut microbiome, encouraging the overgrowth of harmful microbes.

Increase Stomach Acid to Resolve Heartburn Naturally

A key strategy to resolving heartburn is to increase the acid content of your stomach. Taking a betaine hydrochloride (also known as trimethyl glycine) supplement, which is available without a prescription, is one way to do so. Take as many as you need to get the slightest burning sensation and then decrease by one capsule. You can also consume 1 tablespoon of raw unfiltered apple cider vinegar in a large glass of water to increase stomach acid.

I also recommend swapping out processed table salt for an unprocessed version like Celtic salt. By consuming enough of the raw material, you will encourage your body to make sufficient amounts of hydrochloric acid (stomach acid) naturally. Fermented vegetables are another dietary addition to focus on if you have heartburn.

Sauerkraut or cabbage juice is among the strongest stimulants for your body to produce stomach acid. It will also provide you with valuable bacteria to help balance and nourish your gut. Having a few teaspoons of fermented cabbage juice from sauerkraut before your meal will do wonders to improve your digestion. Fresh raw cabbage juice can also be very useful to heal resistant ulcers.

What You Eat and Drink Matters

Your diet, including beverages, also plays a role in heartburn symptoms. While processed foods should be avoided, consuming a Mediterranean diet, which focuses on fruits, healthy fats, lean meats and vegetables, may be as effective as PPIs in treating acid reflux symptoms.14

For occasional relief from burning reflux symptoms, alkaline water,15 due to its higher pH level than regular drinking water, may deliver soothing relief by neutralizing the acid in your body. One of the best ways to do this is to use 1 teaspoon of baking soda in 4 ounces of orange juice and stir.

Just make sure that the glass is only half-full as the reaction causes foaming that can cause the glass to overflow. This will help neutralize your stomach acid and ease the burn of acid reflux Another simple strategy is taking frequent sips of water, which can help in the management of GERD symptoms.16

Ginger tea is also useful, as it decreases pressure on the lower esophageal sphincter, helping to prevent heartburn and other gastrointestinal symptoms. Ginger also accelerates gastric emptying which, when impaired, contributes to heartburn,17 and helps suppress H. pylori. Add two or three slices of fresh ginger root to 2 cups of hot water and let it steep for several minutes. Drink it about 20 minutes prior to eating a meal.

The juice of the aloe plant is another natural remedy to help reduce inflammation, which may ease symptoms of acid reflux. Drink about one-half cup of aloe juice before meals. To avoid its laxative effect, look for a brand in which the laxative component has been removed.

Natural Remedies for Heartburn Relief

Getting regular sun exposure to optimize your vitamin D levels is critically important for gut health, as it plays a role in the production of 200 antimicrobial peptides that will help eradicate gut infections. Other remedies that may help you manage occasional bouts of heartburn and other minor reflux symptoms include:

•Astaxanthin — When compared to a placebo, this potent antioxidant was found to reduce symptoms of acid reflux, especially for individuals with pronounced H. pylori infection.18 "Significantly greater reduction of reflux symptoms were detected in patients treated with the highest dose of the natural antioxidant astaxanthin" compared to placebo, the study found.

Researchers concluded a daily dose of 40 milligrams of astaxanthin was effective for reflux reduction.

•Deglycyrrhizinated licorice root — Deglycyrrhizinated licorice (DGL) may also be helpful because it helps block inflammatory prostaglandins. One study found DGL protected gastric mucosa and relieved GERD symptoms better than acid-suppressive drugs.19

Licorice must be approached cautiously, however, because it contains the active metabolite glycyrrhiza, which at high doses can affect your adrenal glands, cause muscle weakness or numbness and raise your blood pressure.

Licorice is contraindicated if you're on diuretics or stimulant laxatives. Women on hormone therapy, who have estrogen-dependent cancers or reproductive conditions like endometriosis, should also avoid it.

•Glutamine — The amino acid glutamine has been shown to address gastrointestinal damage caused by H. pylori. According to Susan Hagen, associate professor of surgery at Harvard Medical School, who’s studied the issue:20

"Gastric damage develops when the bacteria weakens the stomach’s protective mucous coating, damages cells and elicits a robust immune response that is ineffective at ridding the infection … Our findings suggest that extra glutamine in the diet could protect against gastric damage caused by H. pylori."

Glutamine is found in many foods, including beef, chicken, dairy products, eggs, fish and selected fruits and vegetables. L-glutamine is widely available as a supplement.

•Papaya (papain supplement) or Pineapple (bromelain supplement) — Papaya contains papain, an enzyme useful for breaking down both protein and carbohydrates. Bromelain is a proteolytic enzyme found in pineapple, and like papain, helps digest proteins. Bromelain also promotes anti-inflammatory activity and helps you maintain regular bowel movements.

•Slippery elm — Slippery elm coats and soothes your mouth, throat, stomach and intestines, and contains antioxidants that may help address inflammatory bowel conditions.

Because it stimulates nerve endings in your gastrointestinal tract, it is useful for increasing mucus secretion, which has a protective effect against ulcers and excess acidity. Try mixing 1 to 2 tablespoons of slippery elm powder with water, consumed after meals and before bedtime.21

Other natural compounds, including curcumin, pectin and peppermint oil, have also been found to improve gastrointestinal symptoms and gut microbes while reducing the need for reflux medications.22 A dietary supplement containing melatonin, l-tryptophan, vitamin B6, folic acid, vitamin B12, methionine and betaine was also superior to omeprazole in the treatment of GERD.23

So, when it comes to finding relief from symptoms and support to address the underlying causes of most heartburn cases, there are numerous natural options at your disposal. These, combined with a whole food diet and limited processed foods, will help heal your gut and put an end to heartburn naturally.

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terrence-silver · 2 years

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Okay, but imagine, through some weird contrived AU, Twig works as a Bus-boy with John at the diner? Perhaps, ironically, post-war, where jobs are fairly scarce in a mangled economy (especially for returning veterans looked down on), and for a short period of time, before the first Cobra Kai dojo actually kicks off, John returns to a previous work-place with a new found sense of authority and confidence because he needs quick cash and while he does dream, he understands he can’t just live off of dreams alone? Like, maybe its one of the several trials and tribulations Terry’s father has him go through to ‘become a real man’ and this month, it involves working a job (a job that isn’t the hereditary, multigenerational family business) --- why not have it be a job his wartime compatriot dabbles in as well? Sure. That’ll do. Yes. That is trusty and tolerable enough --- serve a purpose for the time being and it proves a point. Will help the boy integrate back into society and leave this whole war nonsense behind, because that’s over and Silver Sr. deems it is a closed chapter, so of course, being the utmost authority on everything, it is indeed a closed chapter because he merely says so. Naturally, Terry clowns around a bit because he still has some of that playful, youthful innocence to him after everything he’s been through. Reminds of that one post from Reddit (right here) where a guy chased around customers at McDonalds with a wet mop telling them ‘I’m gonna getcha’ and getting himself fired on the spot at age sixteen for it. A n y w a y. Terry’s silly antics lead to him nearly getting let go as well and his exceedingly rich papa phones in to the owner to fix the issue, nepotism be damned. -”He’s going through a rite of passage.”-

Is all he says after his very formal introductions are made.

-”Oh, sorry, sir, we didn’t know, we...”- The stuttering manager had no idea.

Well, no idea who’s son this skinny little dummie was exactly, to be precise.

Old money? Man...

-”He just came home from Vietnam. Now it is time to get to know the ants.”-

He came home from where!? That kid? Sure, he believed that about the other one, but...

-”The...ants, sir?”-

-”The ants. The proletarian working class. You.”-

-”Oh...”-

Okay? Blunt and harsh. No beating around the bush.

It isn’t a threat or mockery. The tone is very matter of factually.

This is simply how Mr. Silver the Older speaks.

-”To best know thyne enemy you must learn the enemy’s ways or whatever mumbo jumbo Confucius wrote. I don’t read that crap. Gives me a migraine and when I get migraines, my physician’s prescribed skiing. I hate that crap too. Ever been to Aspen during wintertime? I can have that arranged for you.”- Is this man trying to...bribe him? Mr. Silver Sr. audibly yawns into the phone, not even trying to hide how bored he is by this conversation. -”Don’t take it personally, uh...Winnie, or whatever your name is. He’s the first one in the family with a...outside employment.”- Silver Sr. continues and goodness only knows how he got a hold the manager’s name. Why’s the man speaking with a...is that a thick Transatlantic accent? What’s outside employment? Like...ordinary work? The year is 1974 and it is like this guy crawled out somewhere from the other half of the century. He sounds like how a black and white movie ought to sound. Like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. Either ways, it is the most baffling conversation the proprietor of this establishment had...ever to the point of feeling made up and it particularly haunts him in the time to come, and he’s been instructed to simply let Terry observe the work environment of the diner (like one does a zoo cage from the outside) and learn a thing or two, before his time and tenure is up and his father welcomes him into the family business with some manner of understanding of what a work ethic is for ‘the other side of the class scale’. The kid simply disappears, never to be seen again. The manager spots his name, years later, on the cover of Forbes. The gruff, bigger guy disappears too soon after.

Suffice to say, Terry Silver sticks around for some two months.

John Kreese is given a raise disguised as ‘a work bonus’.

Mr. Silver Sr. knows ‘the proud one’ wont accept it otherwise.

Those are the few oddest weeks in that diner’s overall running history.

#i find the idea hilarious #hsfghs #terry silver #terry silver twig #john kreese #terry's silver's father #silver family #bus boy!au #cobra kai #kk3 #tw; class issues

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ustheuntitled · 1 year

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Trying to start at the present. (Back to the first post).

I found the set of these pictures backing up to my cloud at the completely wrong date. Originally found on a dating site. Ironically, I have been thinking about the person I met on that site shortly after coming across this profile picture, she completely changed my life. What happened in the time period, where I was working, living situations, my mental composure and what she had to look past when and after we were together, was the setting of this. I just didn't know it yet. I didn't want to be happy, although it was damn near impossible to even expect that out of someone in my situation, still I didn't really know how to be happy, so she was right. And I was wrong, for many things.

[ I promise to come back to add more to each post, I just need to cover the last couple hours at least. 4 am, and have work at 3pm. I think i can squeeze in a few hours of sleep before returning back into the only thing keeping me alive and going at this point. Thank God..]

Long story short, I got hacked, completely. Maybe even worse than I could have ever imagined.

Why?

I cannot tell you why people do the things that they do besides passion, conviction, and monetary gain. Or love, and I suppose some people enjoy and maybe even love being evil toward others. I actually know so.

So i can think of a few scorned people from my past that would love to watch me squirm a bit. But to the degrees that I will do my very best at explaining to you

this is a lot more sophisticated than anything I ever seen or really heard about. I maybe over reaching when i connect so many conclusions, that only in the movies stuff like this could happen.

So as for the first post; the cell phone i was using bricked on me. It was given/lent to me, depending on who you ask, and it seemed to be rooted (purposely hacked to unlock certain features and capabilities) and being everyone is glued to their phones in todays world I was manipulated not only but the device's malfunctioning itself, but seemingly the people around me as well.

in very specific ways.

Now that I think about it more and more, certainly for the past 5 years that I've lived where i currently do.

On and off spent time in North Carolina, which you will learn about later, that too was a very specific low point in my life,

but still the beginning to notice things and started to begin that my phone was hacked.. I would even explain to the few people in my life what I was at the time and still am apparently, experiencing. Each and everyone of them told me I was crazy, that nobody would want to hack me because i have no money. The responses I received ranges from neglectful, abusive and the behavior of these very same people tells a different story than 'Nicky is crazy,' or' drinking and on drugs' (prescribed to me or not). The treatment I received when I asked the people i am supposed to love and trust the most, was at times outright malicious and evil in nature. Yes. I take medication, and was hospitalized a couple times over the last couple years, and I will tell you my side of the story.

What you will get from them, lets get this out of the way, is the drugs, the drinking, the mental illness. At times this is the truth, but this is not the whole truth, or the main or only reason behind any of my hospitalizations. Hypocrites. It is there justification, reasoning and rationality of hurting someone to the point of trauma.

An excuse to use me as a scapegoat and claim I was such a problem in their lives,and how much they loved me. Because what I am about to do, doesn't even have a name yet. Its Untitled. We might just have to change some names around, definitely black out parts of the screenshots, and

admit somethings and events in this might be coincidental, if true.

(Gathering and organizing all of the data will take time, and will be an ongoing thing, as these post, this page will definitely evolve and change in course of however long it takes; because I have years worth of Journals, I started the second someone told me I was crazy.)

This is apparently happening to a lot of people, and trends have begun. At least according to the crooked salesman at a crooked phone store that just sold me on a hacked device after explaining to him how important it is that I get a brand new phone which nobody else has touched. He told me how people cried to him and it seems traumatic to some, its had gotten so bad I am just going to share with you now; to the point of attempted suicide. So here is my point of view so I can at least say that I tried my very best to seek help, only to completely backfire from specific people, or be laughed at by others.

I was coincidentally told to stop posting, and even writing things down by a couple people in the same week. I wasn't told why, just that I should.So this is my latest journal, maybe my last, lets make it the best.

Interference will surely come, and i have to organize so much for this to be perfect. I will have my hands full. there will be content of from a few different other people who are/were told they were crazy, or lying when in fact turned out to be right. Posts to make you smile and laugh, posts to hopefully inspire, educate and even capture sustained states of psychosis.

here we go.

Scroll back to the pictures in the first post. Does that not make you feel uncomfortable? To me it gives me a specific kind of feeling that I have trouble putting into words other than "It's just not right". Again they appeared to have been or for unknown reasons they moved on their own in my cloud storage (which has indeed been compromised quiet a bit). Is it a sign for me to reach out to that person who gave me a shot and looked past so much in hopes that I was the right one for her now that Ive spent time alone and learned how to be happy just to be alive and that might be enough to say i got my something good going for me. That Id love to share it with her.

should I find the original and scrub it for all of its data and find any hidden text, images, or general information which could very well match my gut feeling the photo gives me, and the sketchy part of the nature of online dating. Maybe someone knows who it is, more like what it is.

At the very least, its what i like to call Data Misconduct.

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mygenericstore · 1 year

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fitzpatrickriggs · 2 years

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onlinexbuy · 2 years

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Will Aspadol help you improve your threshold for pain? Myth or Fact?

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How does Aspadol work?

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byuntrash101 · 3 years

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The Heir

Pairing: Sub!Servant!Baekhyun x Dom!Queen!Reader

Genre: smut (ofc) Royalty!AU; Western Europe Renaissance Period

Tags: courthouse plotting, arranged mariage, overstimulation, dacryphilia, handjob, slight hand fetish, fingering (m), controlled orgasm (m), virginity loss (kinda?? idk), riding, fear play (very light, you really have to squint), breeding kink, unprotected sex, cheating, creampie, dirty talk, cum eating (there's a surprise with this one hehe)

Raiting: 18+

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures when your Kingdom still needs an heir.

credit: @imrouse-art

A/N: This one shot is inspired by this moodboard. Thank you @kjikaila for insipiring me! I had a lot of fun writing this. Especially the fingering 🤪🤪. Like the top in me is happy! haha also maybe listen to this before hand 😏😏-Cat 😸

General Masterlist

“Go arrange the Nuptial Chambers” The old King ordered around at the dozens of maids and valets present as they hurried themselves in and out of the Castle's dining room.

You just had finished supper and the sight of him still covered with sauce and half chewed pieces of food repulsed you. In fact, you almost didn’t eat anything. How could you when this bovine old man was sitting right across from you? And not even the grand hall with the tall ceilings and the tapisseries ornamented with gold and gemstones, not even the extravagant solid gold silverware, not even the delicate and most exquisite jewelry and the finest silks and textiles your were wearing, in short not anything beautiful you could lay your eyes on could take your mind away from the swine seated in front of you, at the end of the long table.

Saying that the King repelled you was an understatement. Why did you have to marry him? Because you were a woman? Because you needed to strengthen your political relationships with the neighboring country in order to not appear weak?

Nonsense.

Why couldn’t you just rule the kingdom your father left you in inheritance on your own? You knew you were very much capable of doing so. You were smart, brave and courageous. But the laws of the country were not prescribed in your favour. And unfortunately you couldn’t change them on your own, not as Queen Regent.

You were the strongest person in this court. And everyone there knew that much. Maybe except for the King himself, but he was just a foreigner. How could he possibly have known? But on time… he too, shall learn.

But it doesn’t matter, you think to yourself as you maintain perfectly courtlike composure and calm, putting etiquette above all else as always.

It doesn’t matter because it’s only a question of time before you can ensure your country appears strong and tenacious. The people will see you as their queen, as their leader. The neighbouring countries will see you either as a powerful ally or a fearsome and serious threat.

Once you will have secured a rightful heir to the throne.

A strong descendant who will have your blood running through their veins… and you won't need this joke of a king anymore. You’ll send this pig where he belongs, to rot in the filthy gutters, as far away from your chambers as possible, preferably six feet under.

“My Queen, you haven’t eaten anything!” The disgusting man stated while finally setting down a gnawed duck leg bone. “You must not miss any meal if you want to bear strong and healthy children that will prove to be suited heirs to the throne. And I demand many of them.” The King laughed out loud, showing mushed up food in his rotten mouth. You wanted to vomit.

“My beloved King” you took the smoothest of voice. “I wish for the marriage to be consummated tonight. I need to retain some flexibility and agility, thus less duck legs and fatty sauce are best” Your statement darkened his gaze and spreaded a lubricious smirk on his stained and greasy lips.

“You are right, my beloved!” he declared loudly, gesturing to the valets to clear the table. “Maid, prepare me a bath! I have sweat profusely under this unnecessary gaudy attire all day”. He said, very gallantly referring to his wedding suit.

Even if the said apparel was made by the most skilled tailor of the kingdom, no fine textile or golden lining could save the ungentlemanliness of this man. Even cladded in the most expensive suit he still looked like an unfit jester, passing himself as a king. And for as long as he was sitting on the throne, your kingdom would look like a circus.

“I will attend myself that the Nuptial Chambers are well suited for the consummation of our union, Your Majesty.'' you said while gently wiping the corners of your mouth.

“Yes! I don’t want these imbeciles disorganizing the room where my beloved Queen and I will conceive a sturdy boy to sit on the throne after me.” He threw a somber gaze at the servants. The mere, but very concrete and chronologically very close, concept of having to have any physical touches with this swine, this joke of a king made you shudder.

You bowed your head respectfully and headed out but before leaving you turned around and let your gaze sweep the army of maids and valets standing still, their heads lowered, waiting to receive orders. These were your people, people you grew up with that served your family, your kingdom, your country. This so-called king was as much of a stranger to them as he was to you.

“You” you designated with a finger one of the valets. The boy around your age lifted his gaze very carefully, fearing to cross your eyes, that was standard protocol for an interaction between a queen and her valet. “Come help me with the preparations.”

The valet fixed his gaze back on his feet at once and rushed to your side.

“My Queen, don’t you want one of the maids to help you with such womanly matters?” the King questioned. Even the simple sound of his voice made you grit your teeth. As you shifted your face to look at him, you took advantage of that time to change your expression to a less miffed and warmer one.

“I think this one is absolutely suitable for the task. He has been here almost since birth.” It’s true the boy entered the castle as your late father was coming back from war past the big plains of Europe into the distant lands of Indochina. He was an orphaned and starved little boy your warlord father found on the rough roads; far beyond the Caucasus mountains. He brought the boy back as a gift to you, his only -and lonely- daughter, to have a friend to play with. The boy was barely even old enough to be able to form words back then but still he was old enough to know his name. Baekhyun. Baekhyun from the country of Silla. A very special gift from your father.

As you got older Baekhyun took his place as your favorite valet. Thz both of you still hold a very special relationship.

“Besides, his hands are as delicate as those of a woman” with that you took the hands of the valet and displayed them to your husband.

“Huh!” he exclaims, almost impressed at such delicacy of the boy's long and slender fingers, his palms are soft as the finest silk, like he never had to do manual labor. “Fine. So be it”.

“Come” you said as you left and walked up your way on the grand staircase of the hall up into the Nuptial Chambers, closely followed by Baekhyun, walking behind and thus diligently respecting the etiquette.

When you pushed in the grand and sculpted doors, three maids were already busy with changing the royal bed with more refined bedding.

“Thank you, I will take care of the rest” you softly said. “Oh! and when the King comes, bring me the elixir I requested from the kitchen” you told one of the maids before dismissing them with a motion of the wrist.

When they were finally gone you dropped your shoulders in relief of being finally in privacy.

“Baekhyun…” you started tracing your hand over the deep burgundy silk sheets. The soft feeling at your fingertips running goosebumps on your arm. “Do you think this bed is fitted for a King?” you turned your gaze to him to which he responded by immediately averting his.

“Most certainly, Your Royal Highness” he responds promptly.

“How would you know if you didn’t even touch it?” you asked, mischief underlining your voice. Baekhyun lifted his eyes once again and carefully approached the bed. He ran his own hands where yours once were, touching the slik for himself.

“The bedding seems appropr-” when he turned to you you pushed him, making him tumble down and laying flat on his back. Baekhyun looked dumbfounded on the bed, looking around like a lost puppy.

With astonishing ease you slipped out of the heavy and puffed out ceremony dress. Being left with your corset and lace underwear only. Baekhyun tried to sit back up but you pressed a firm hand on his thigh.

“No. Stay” you said sternly so he laid back down, obediently.

“Your Grace” he whispered in a short breath when his eyes trailed your body. Even though he had seen it a hundred times, seeing you would always make him miserably excited. It was always fun playing around with him and having your way with him. Afterall, Baekhyun was a gift to you. He was quite literally, your property and your most favourite toy.

You love the way he whimpers when you pull on the waistband of his commoner’s pants. bring them past his knees alongside his underpants. As you expected the naughty little servant boy is already hardening as he knows damn well what's about to come. He is used to serving you. In every way, shape or form.

“Oh!” you exclaim when the lively and swollen appendix springs free infront of your face. “Aren’t we excited?” you say tracing the outline of his cock with a finger running up the shaft and teasing the little slit on top.

Baekhyun wiggles underneath you.

“Your Highness, please” he begs looking back up at you.

“Please what?” you ask, a knowing smile pulling on your cheeks while you tease the swollen head even further. Baekhyun bites his lips and bucks his hips up.

“What if the King comes?” He asks, his eyes dashing between you and the grand door of the bedroom. You chuckle while you firmly wrap your hand around the girthy member, earning a strangled moan from the servant boy.

“So you suggest I should stop?” you ask while jerking his cock between your fingers, firmly gripping it. Baehyun looks up at you but he doesn’t say anything. “Should I?” you ask again your tone becomes cold.

“NO!” he finally breathes out, fisting the sheets between his delicate slender fingers. “Please! Your Highness don’t stop” his breath is short and his cheeks and neck are already taking on a reddish hue, sweat is dripping down the side of temples, dampening the locks of chestnut brown hair. Pleasure and fear is distorting the beautiful features of his face. But soon you stop anyway, going against Baekhyun’s wish.

Baekhyun lets out a disappointed grunt as he feels the pleasure gradually lessen. Your eyes light up with mischief when you spot the glistening pearl of precum at the slit of the swollen tip.

You rip off completely the clothes that were resting past his knees and throw them on the ground, and reserve the same treatment to what the clothes that covered his top half, rendering the obedient servant utterly naked. There was something so empowering to have this man nude as you stared down at him still clothed.

You gently push on Baekhyun’s soft thigh to which he responds by obediently spreading his legs, completely exposing himself to your hungry gaze. You can’t help but to smile thinking that you taught him really well. Even if it’s not the first time he is still as nervous, his heart is beating flush against his ribs and resonating in his ears.

“So, you want me to continue, I take?” you ask as you wrap your hand around his balls and give them a light squeeze, he jumps at the tight feeling around his sensitive area.

“Yes” he huffs “My Queen, please” his voice is needy as he eyes down your hand on him. Your hand leaves his balls and he can’t help but to whine again at the loss of contact. You bring your palm to your mouth to spit in it and soon you return to envelop the base of his shaft. The reaction is immediate. Baekhyun rolls his eyes back and bucks his hips in your hand, desperately seeking some friction. Your hand glides from the base to the head. You rub your palm in slow and teasing circles on his tip to mix your spit with his precum. You glaze your hand all over the very sensitive head.

Baekhyun grits his teeth until overstimulation got him whining and trying to escape your merciless touches. But you continue your torment, only jerking off the tip. Baekhyun has more and more trouble keeping his voice down so you decide to help him by shoving your other hand into his mouth.

He happily welcomes your digits as a way of distracting himself from the dire pleasure that is viciously inflicted on his sensitive cock. He licks around your fingers, sucks on them, plays with them inside his mouth, bobs his head on them. Anything that can take off his mind of the overwhelming teasing of your hand. And soon he’s able to quiet down.

“Good boy” you praise him before you take back your fingers, his eager lips around them produce a lewd popping sound. And you bring your lubricated fingers to his exposed ass, outlining his rim.

Like a well behaved little puppy his legs fly open, knees bent and feet on the mattress nice and spread out, aiding your finger to access and slip inside him smoothly. Slowly you push one finger earning a whimper from the boy. Right after you push in a second one. You look over at him, he’s the most adorable little mess you’ve ever seen, his hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes made watery with overstimulation, his jaw hanging open and his eyebrows knitted in neediness. He’s just so dainty.

As soon as your fingers reach their aim, deep inside him, right onto his sensitive spot, you feel each one of the rings in ass constricting your fingers in a tight grip.

“Hmmm. You’re so tight” you praise him again as you start pumping your fingers in and out; your other hand jerking him off a little faster.

“T-Thank you, Y-Your Highness” he stutters, struggling to keep up with his words he opts for minimalistic sentences.

You quicken your pace again, this time Baekhyun’s back arches on the bed while he takes a sharp breath.

“Does that feel good my sweet boy?” you softly ask, looking fondly at him, as he’s about to come undone at any second.

“Y-yes it does!” he says in a strangled breath. “It feels so good” he pathetically bucks his hips, hoping to thrust inside your fist around his cock and bounce his ass on the two fingers of your other hand, perfectly syncing with your rhythm.

“Do you deserve this, my baby?” you ask, wicked smirk pulling at your lips.

“Nooo” he whines, tears finally spilling out his eyes. “I don’t… I… aaaah… don’t deserve this Your Grace”

“That’s right you don’t” you go even faster, you feel his grip around your finger tighten everytime they hit straight on his prostate and his dick starts to twitch between your fingers.

“I’m only a peasant and you're a queen, Your Royal highness” he moans underneath you, as his eyes roll to the back of his head, bliss painted all over his beautiful and delicate features.

Normally you would let him cum right there. You would have played satisfactorily with your toy. That was all you loved and needed: to make him needy, covered in sweat, tears and cum. Pathetically thrusting in your hand, while his split open and orgasming little hole blink at you, and he makes a fool out of himself blurting out everything and anything just to earn this high from you, just for this permission to have his relief at the end of your royal fingers and at the expense of his pride and dignity.

That was what you liked the most. Breaking your favourite toy just for the pleasure of fixing him back and destroying him again. Slowly chipping at his sanity with every orgasm.

But this time you didn’t. You didn’t let him finish. Because even if you didn’t see the point in informing your servant prior to your little game you figured earlier today, during the wedding ceremony that Baekhyun was going to be the one giving you the heir you so desperately need. Afterall, you are the true and legitimate ruler of this kingdom and you will choose who you conceive a child with. And quite frankly you would much rather your son have the innate grace and delicacy of Baekhyun rather than the abruptness and the balding ugly head of the King.

So it’s decided.

Words can not describe the utter and ultimate feeling of disappointment and frustration that takes over Baekhyun the moment you let go of his cock and pull your fingers out of his needy, twitching and agape hole. Actually words are unnecessary because the feelings are plastered all over his cute red face, his eyes shoot open and he bites down his lips while he whimpers and whines, twitching cock weeping precum and throbbing on his toned stomach.

But the anticipation is short lived because you waste no more time, you slide down your lace underwear to your ankles and kick them off your feet, leaving you in only your corset, hoisting your breasts up on your chest, making them appear fuller.

You straddle Baekhyun and align his sensitive cock with your warm and drenched entrance.

“Your Highness?” Baekhyun hurriedly asks, panic swimming in his brown orbs as he watches you pump his length between your fingers a couple of times. “What are you doin-”

He cuts himself off with a loud and throaty moan, a low grunt that perfectly relates the absolute joy he feels once he’s fully inside of you.

That is a pleasure he has never experienced. The pleasure of feeling you around him, filling you up as you did him so many times. On very rare and special occasions you would use his face and mouth to aid yourself to your peak and he knew this was already much more than any lowly servant like him can ever dream for. So he never even dared to dream to ever be inside of you like this. And the thought alone almost made him burst.

He couldn’t believe how warm you were andhow wet his pityful whimpers and moans made you and how fucking tight. He gritted his teeth, it was taking everything he had left to not spurt out his cum right then and here.

“You’re going to give your Queen an heir” you whisper, lifting your hips up, Baekhyun’s cock slowly being pulled out of you while he moans loudly underneath you.

“Your Royal Highness… Aaaah... I-I can’t” he protested between moans.

“Yes you will” you start moaning too as you increase the speed. You feel Baekhyun’s thighs stiffen underneath you as he sinks his head back into the soft mattress and silk sheets.

“I’m not worthy, Your Grace” he whines, pulling on the sheets, trying his hardest not to let his hands fly to your gorgeous thighs, and stopping your unforgiving rhythm.

“Come on babyboy” you moan out the pet name and Baekhyun’s eyes snap back to yours. He looks completely done for, eyes filled with need. Like every thrust of your hips brings him closer and closer to the end of it all. Like each spike of pleasure turns into agony, the painful pleasure of driving the edge of his release.

“Don’t you wish to be the father of a king?” you say smashing your hips with even more force, the lewd slick and wet noises of your sinful deeds bounce off every wall and seem to be amplified by the high ceilings.

The King?

Baekhyun muffles his own moans with the back of his hand, barely hanging on to the sanity he has left while his half closed eyes dart to the grand door.

“If the King walks in he will have me beheaded” the poor boy moans out, anxiety, anguish and pleasure perfectly blended together in the depths of his warm brown orbs. You start laughing.

“Aren't you willing to die for this pussy?” you start to hang on to your thrusts, slowing down to a painfully slow rhythm. Right then Baekhyun’s eyes snap back to you.

“Yes, Your Highness. I could die for your royal pussy” he huffs, eyebrows furrowed. You smirk with satisfaction upon hearing the servant boy slip out this improper word.

“Then, cum for me” you pick up the pace again, somehow managing to be even more brutal on him, smashing your hips back into his, bouncing his body off the soft and thick mattress. “Fill me up with you cum”. Baekhyun loses it at the sudden change of pace.

“Yes My Queen” he gladly oblige.

“Fill me up and impregnate me with an heir” you say as your legs start to shake, you too, also giving in to the pleasure, making yourself cum using your favourite little toy. Your orgasming cunt viciously squeezing Baekhyun's cock as he finally, finally cums. A remarkable amount of hot cum rushes inside you, Baekhyun’s cock pulsating inside you. While you also come undone, thighs shaking above him and gradually slowing down until the pleasure wears off and you crash on his chest.

“You were great” you praised him after catching your breath for a few seconds, you brushed a strand of sweat soaked hair away from his eyes.

Baekhyun only nodded back to you, he was incapable of using words, he was completely dazed and exhausted. He wasn’t sure he remembered his name right now, let alone etiquette and protocol.

You wanted to praise him some more, remind him of how much of a perfect little angel he was for you and how good he made you feel but you heard a loud voice resonate from the hall.

The King was coming this way.

Your instinct kicking in you pushed Baekhyun off the bed and he rolled underneath it just in time before the doors were violently smashed open in a loud wallop.

“My Queen let us conceive this child” The King rudely declared. His words are tumbled up and slurred. He was visibly drunk. And you were just as visibly annoyed.

Heeling behind him was the maid holding a flask. Your mood lightened up when you wrapped your half naked body in the sheets and walked over to her to take the beverage from her hands. You dismissed the maid who hurried herself out, leaving you alone with the King, it wasn't’ for Baekhyun still hiding underneath the bed.

“So” the King let his heavy and porcine body sink onto the bed beside you as he placed his big hairy hand onto the covers you were still holding to hide yourself. “Let me see what you have underneath this”

But before he ripped the covers away from you stopped him.

“My beloved!” you shouted, “please allow me to offer you this potion I had made especially for you as a wedding gift” The King turned his appaling face to the small flask on the bedside table.

“What is this?” he took the small container in his coarse hands.

“It’s an aphrodisiac made with spices I had imported from Constantinople” a vile and distasteful smirk pulled on his lips. “I heard it’s supposed to multiply pleasure by a hundred” you continued. “It’s to insure my king is utmost satisfied with me even though I have no experience”

That was a lie, all of it. The fluid was only a powerful soporific and you had very much experience. You spent years experimenting with the male body. With Baekhyun you learned your fair share of information on how to make a man cum but it was nothing you wanted the King to benefit from.

Luckily the credulous King doesn’t question any of it and you don’t have to open your mouth a single time to sugar coat the lie before he opens his big vulgar mouth and downs the entire bottle.

Before you can even rejoice on this small victory the King wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and in the same motion rips the covers from your body. You shriek in surprise and jump to the headboard. Your corset is hiding most of your body but you still lay your hand over your unclothed sex, the last thing you want is for this disgusting pig to lay his small beady eyes on your most private parts.

“What do we have here?” The King says as he spots a small wet puddle on the silk bedding. “It appears My Queen has made herself nice and ready for her King” he says, lust making his voice deeper.

Then he crouches down and licks the small puddle, the thick white liquid sticks to his large tongue before it disappears into his mouth and down his throat.

You can't help but to smirk when you see this pig happily gulp down on the still warm cum Baekhyun filled you to the brim with a couple of minutes ago. It somehow feels like vengeance to see this drunk jester relish in it like it was your arousal for him. Like he could ever make you feel like this for him.

“Exactly your majesty nice and ready for you” you chuckle.

Within a few seconds later the King crashes into deep sumbler thanks to the potion and you are able to finally get Baekhyun out of the nuptial chambers without a single witness.

***

Nine months later you gave birth to a son. After hours of painful, difficult and bloody labor the prince finally came into the world.

“I’m going to bathe him, Your Grace” the midwife said.

“No!” you firmly responded. Even if you were tired and out of breath you still inspired respect and authority and the midwife stopped dead in her tracks. “Let me see his hands first”

To everybody else that was an odd request but the midwife, although confused, still obliged. When she gathered the small princely arms in her hand and showed the little hands on the newborn you couldn't contain your smile.

The prince had beautiful hands, long fingers and, you could already tell, a very delicate touch.

“The hands of his father” you whispered to yourself, looking with adoration at the child.

Taglist: @blahblahblah-boo @life-is-a-beautiful-place

A/N: there you go guys!!! How did you like it???? I know it was scandalous but honestly so so so fun to writeee!!! Please send me an ask and tell me what you thought! Im so eager to know and i promise im nice ^^. -Cat

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thevirginwitch · 2 years

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full moon folklore

It's said that each of the 10 days following a full moon holds a magic all its own, and that those who pay heed to the individual attributes and use them as prescribed below can expect to become very powerful, indeed. Please note that these are only folklore/myths, so take this information with a grain of salt!

First Day: This is an excellent time to begin new projects and get new businesses off the ground. It's also an especially lucky day for babies to be born, as these children are said to live exceptionally long, healthy, and prosperous lives. In fact, the only downside to this day at all has to do with illness, as becoming sick now apparently results in an extremely lengthy recuperation period.

Second Day: There is absolutely nothing unlucky about this day; in fact, it vibrates toward riches of all sorts. This is an exceptional time for both merchandise sales and bargain-hunting, and crops and gardens are also said to thrive if planted now.

Third Day: This is not a good day to be born, for it's believed that the children in question are not only likely to be weak, frail, and sickly, but will remain so throughout their lives. Personal theft also seems to make the rounds today. The only upside is that thieves are more likely to be caught in short order — but whether they'll be caught with your belongings is anybody's guess!

Fourth Day: If you're planning to make repairs to your property or redecorate or remodel your home, now is the time to do it. In fact, this day bodes well for anything having to do with building or construction. It's also said that children born on this day are very likely to embrace political careers, but that early training, especially regarding the difference between right and wrong, is imperative to their future successes.

Fifth Day: Known as the "weather marker," it's said that the rest of the month will mirror today's weather. My sources also tell me that this is the best day of the month to conceive a child. I don't know whether this is true or not; however, if babies aren't high on your priority list, a bit of extra precaution might be in order here!

Sixth Day: This is a great day to kick back, relax, and do something nice for yourself. And since it bodes well for making memories, a vacation begun today could prove to be the most fun-filled ever. It's also said to be a very lucky day for hunting, fishing, and outdoor sports of all types.

Seventh Day: Apparently, opportunities simply abound for finding that perfect mate today. So, if you're unattached and looking, get out there and see what this day has to offer. You've got nothing to lose, and you might just get lucky!

Eighth Day: Be very careful of your health today, for it's believed that those who get sick today may not recover, and those who do are likely to be exceptionally weak for some time.

Ninth Day: If you want to keep your good looks, don't gaze upon the Moon today. In fact, you might want to sleep in a totally darkened room, for it's said that if any of tonight's moonlight touches your face, the Moon will certainly steal away all of its beauty.

Tenth Day: Patience is the keyword here, especially when dealing with children born on this day. They're not only said to be hyperactive, opinionated, and headstrong, but may lack even so much as a shred of respect for any sort of authority.

#moon magic #moon magick #astrology #astronomy #witches of tumblr #full moon #moon #witchcraft #thevirginwitch #witchblr #witch #witchy #wicca #baby witch #pagan #book of shadows #wiccan

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cameoappearance · 2 years

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Things I didn’t know about top surgery beforehand that might be nice to know

(for things I did know, see my ‘surgery’ tag; this is not intended as a complete guide to recovery nor as Things Your Doctor Won’t Tell You, just some stuff I either didn’t think of beforehand or only found out immediately before it became relevant)

Everybody who has heard of top surgery knows you’re not supposed to raise your arms too high during the recovery period, but you can also stretch out your scars by twisting your torso at the shoulders or reaching behind your back. Try to avoid that too.

Double incision scars don’t necessarily stop at the outside of your pecs; depending on your physique and how your surgeon surges, they might extend pretty far out towards your armpits.

It’s possible to have the skin around the ends of your scars puff up temporarily so that it looks like you’re stuck with dog-ears on one or both sides when you’re like two or three weeks into recovery, and then have them go away after a few months. Don’t immediately assume that you need to either arrange a revision or live with it looking like that forever.

Get some stretchy wide-necked undershirts and start wearing them under the medical binder when you get the all-clear to take short breaks from wearing it. You want to be able to pull the undershirts on and off over your legs and butt so you don’t have to raise your arms while changing clothes. This will probably be more comfortable than having the binder next to the skin (I didn’t think of this until afterwards and mine was very itchy) and lets you swap out your inner layer for laundry purposes without needing to wash the binder itself a lot.

I was personally very worried about being loopy and incoherent while coming out of the anesthesia but it turns out that’s not a common side effect of this type of general anesthesia (it’s more a side effect of the painkillers, which I ended up not personally needing, I couldn’t feel most of my chest for weeks except for the blister-esque agony of accidentally pressing on my relocated nipples and was fine with OTC pain relievers) and instead I was just incredibly sleepy for the next 36 hours. I also didn’t have to deal with nausea or constipation because of this, but I don’t want to discourage people from taking the painkillers if they are in serious pain, that’s what they’re for and you can control the side effects with other meds like the anti-nausea medication they give you at the same time.

One possible side effect of a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, like the kind that get prescribed after surgery, is a yeast infection. While you’re buying your OTC medications you may want to throw in an oral antifungal medication that treats those, if the inexplicable wild variance in regulations from country to country allows you to buy one without a prescription.

#medicine #surgery #trans issues #top surgery #I seem to have had a very charmed recovery as far as the medical aspect of it goes so don't underprepare on my account or anything #i went to a guy who doesn't use drains so i don't know anything about dealing with drains

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blackpeachy · 3 years

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ATTENTION! PLEASE HELP RUSSIAN TRANS!MALE START HIS TRANSITION!!!

Attention!

We're asking everyone to read this post and help in any way you can! Please.

Hello everyone. I need you all to pay a little attention to the largest problem I ever had to face in my life. And I need your help to resolve it.

As many of you know, Russia is a very homophobic country. Literally silencing all and any attempts to bring solutions to the problems of all aspects of LGBT+ community.

My name is Nathan, Nate and im a trans!guy living in Russia. Through out all of my life i alsways knew i didnt belong in my own body, but i didnt find out what that was untill i was 11. Im 25 now and i need your help. Help getting the certificate to finally change all documents and start transitioning.Living in Russia ment misgendering and humiliation. Eternal brainwashing and moralizing about the fact that this is only a phase and everything will be okay, that I had problems with my head and it needed to be treated. This not only worsened my morale, but completely killed all the strength in me to continue living.This was the begining of a life long depression. Until sometime last month.

Having started some deep research on the topic of transition and gender reassignment in Russia( specifically in my city), my gilrfriends and I stumbled upon a clinic in Rostov(my city)called "Phoenix". We thought we struck a goldmine! A clinic that helps people and helps them find a way out. However, this was not the case, because starting to dig a little deeper, we saw people's feedback that 'Phoenix' only ridicules and humiliates people, rips money off them and prescribes "schizophrenia" for no good reason. Pay from 60 - 150k rubles just to be prescribed with schizophrenia and humiliated in the face of a huge council of 15 people ... It sounds disgusting, I know. Here’s an example of something another trans!person said after visiting Phoenix:

(its a lengthy review, of which i will post a screenshot, but there a summaryin English)

“The doctor showed disrespect to my choice and began to convince me that we are predators and should eat meat. It's like convincing the believer that there is no God. This is disrespect for a person on the part of a doctor. At the end of the inpatient treatment, the doctor obsessively asked me to write a review about him, naturally, a good one. I am a representative of the LGBT + community. And I'll tell you right away - this is not a place for people like us. Dyachenko convinced me of the wrongness of my identity. Anton Vasilyevich initially refused to address me in those pronouns that correspond to my identity, referring to the fact that he “has no legal right” to do this.

I was prescribed a huge number of drugs with side effects that worsened my quality of life and made my head cotton. Several months ago I canceled the medication myself, and over time my condition improved, and the side effects, which the doctor called new symptoms of the disease, disappeared.

If you are a gay or transgender person with a severe form of depression, which does not correspond to their ideas and stereotypes about LGBT people, then you will most likely be diagnosed with schizophrenia and will convince you that all this is either due to illness or because of that you have read false information on the internet.”

We immediately turned our backs on this clinic and resorted to looking for all-Russian and local groups and communities who provide help to trans!people in need. When I came across a couple of very interesting articles and reviews about the clinic in Samara called ‘Neurology’. (All people shouted to immediately throw out all thoughts about Phoenix, because the clinic is transphobic and does not help at all. We called Phoenix for a consultation there: We were almost cussed at by the sound of the tone they answered our questions.)

The group administrator himself contacted the clinic(in Samara) and now he does not regret it at all. After reading the articles and talking with local admins, we decided that if we had somewhere to turn to and get the desired result in short period of time, we need to pack up and go to Samara, because people will definitely not drag you to offices and consultations with a huge number of people ... Everything is strictly between the two doctors you talk to and yourself.

However, in order to get to Samara as soon as possible, I ask for your help! The entire procedure for obtaining a certificate of gender reassignment (form N 087 / y) will take from two to three days, depending on how quickly the doctors will come to a general agreement and issue a verdict. The cost of consultations is 20,900 rubles (284,95 dollars, with consulatations) according to data from October, when one of the subscribers of the trans!movement group visited the clinic. This is a very reasonable and good price to pay for changing your life and finally stop being locked in your own body and mind.

Here’s some convos we had with Russian trans community groups:

At the moment, we really need help with raising funds for the implementation of this procession:

The commission itself will cost 210$ (according to data from October),

Consultation with a Sexologist -40-45$ per meeting,

Consultation with a Psychiatrist - 48$ per meeting,

Hotel or motel to rent for the time to stay (taking into account if there is no way to find someone elses place to stay at) - ~ 140$, for at least three days.

Moving - by train, for two people, it turns out - 70$ per one person, in both directions. - 140$ (There are two of us going, me and my girlfriend for moral suport)

With such success, we are looking at the total amount of - 43k rubles or nearing 584-600$( plus some minor additions)

MY PAYPAL: https://www.paypal.me/commiewantssomemoney

We ask for help to raise funds for the trip, because it takes a long time to save up on our own. My family cannot help because of moral ethics, but they did not turn away from me,supporting me in every way they can mentally. We, of course, will contribute some of our own money to this cause, trying to save up working a minimum wage job.

I am asking you for help in taking this long-awaited step towards a better life. Reblog, donation, ANY help is very appreciated! Help a suffering trans!male in Russia to make his life less miserable.

#trans #lgbtq #lgbt #trans support #please consider donating #homophobic doctors make me sick to my stomach #really #ftm transgender #ftm help #signal boost #trans help #lgbtq help #ftm #trans in need of help #post boost #please help #donation post #trans pride #help

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atendersun-archived · 2 years

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Aftermath of Muu's Birthday / Heal Day

the changes:

Having met with his psychiatrist that same day to discuss progress on the medication he had been prescribed earlier in the year, it was decided that the reason his status remained the same was likely due to too many counteracting ingredients in his other medications. As such, it was bravely decided to begin transitioning away from his depression medication to give the one provided for PTSD symptoms a chance to do its very important job. Thankfully, doing so has done him wonders. Even in such a short period of time, he already feels significantly more at peace now that he isn't constantly sending himself into a state of perpetual fight or flight. Fawn is obviously still present, but that one is a whole other issue in need of being resolved.

He stepped down as the lead teacher of the preschool classroom at the daycare he was previously a full time employee at and now only goes in on every Wednesday as a float. It was a decision he had been thinking on for some time before making the big jump, and so far he is thankful for it. He has since given himself more time to pursue avenues in entrepreneurship and self growth. Returning back there full-time again has already been decided upon as not being in the cards, because he would rather place his skills back into being a potential business owner and jack of all trades intead.

On the morning of the day immediately following his birthday, he very quickly jumped right back into being very unkind in his thoughts and daydreams. Unlike many other days, however, he acted quick to chastise his mind on it's unwanted behaviors. It was a much needed boundary to set with himself that he had no right to create negative situations that he'd inevitably feel an obligation to penalize himself for never solving the right way, but he is most definitely glad to have done so because he has not engaged in that behavior since.

what has remained the same:

His Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder are obviously still around. The same goes for the anxiety ridden bouts of paranoia that arise from having the pair of them together. He remains convinced that ill will will inevitably find its way to him should he step too far out of line, so leaving the house remains a struggle depending on if he is doing so to be alone, or to seek company. It is when it is for the purpose of companionship that it becomes a fearful enduring experience, because he puts it into his head that mistakes made in front of those friends will travel onto the ears of others looking to harm him in any way. Of course it is a fear that he has been told numerous times holds no merit with so many people in his life caring about his safety; however, his worry remains there nonetheless.

He still holds only very deeply to his deep rooted narrative that love is to be earned. Or at least that it is when the person receiving it is him. His goals of gaining the praise of specific people is still very much so present. One of which is still who we very well know it to be. It is of extreme importance to note that Muu has never been told by that someone that they aren't proud of him, and yet he feels an obligation to ensure that they never think it for a second if he can help it.

Obviously healing himself by himself wasn't as successful as he hoped it would have been. Better luck next time, pal. He still doesn't really comprehend a whole lot regarding topics of unconditional love and abuse, but nothing thus far has stopped him from trying to get the meaning of those things into traveling through his thick skull. His drive to be praised and his resilience in the face of not being so are also very much so being held onto with a tight fist these days, so he says with pride that he hasn't given up just yet on his goals. He'll more likely pass away than quit on his dreams of convincing the whole world he has the value required to be a lovable person.

#hisheadcanons

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 4 years

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When Conviction Fails - Darth Vader POV post ESB Fic

Vader was a man of conviction, as far as he saw it. As was expected of any successful Sith Lord; letting the emotions rule and take full control without ever truly allowing them to conquer you. Using fear to his advantage, using rage to gain power, and pain to enhance said power. It had taken two decades to come to this point. Wavering was expected early on; during the initiation towards the Rule of Two. Vader himself had started out with an unquenchable fury in his soul, and a fresh open wound where heart used to be.

When She died, She had taken his compassion with her. She had grasped at the hand of his spirit, and all that he stood for as The Jedi. As Her life withered away, so did all that was good inside him. Left was only an empty shell of suffering; of agony. What was left, he had deplored. In the remnants of the man that had once been; all that he loathed came to light.

And with the passing years, while the pain never faded completely; it had shifted. From a sharp, searing red hot poker constantly burrowing its way deeper into his side; to a dull, distant ache only there to make its presence known. To make sure it was never forgotten, as a cruel reminder. But no longer at the forefront of his mind.

Eventually, it became enough to numb any other emotion. The remorse over the way in which he had, directly or not, caused Her death was enough to daze and desensitize any other reprehensible act he may commit himself to. The slaughter of innocents, of civilians, of women, of children. All in the name of justice, all in the name of the Empire. It weighed little on his conscience. Why should the blood on his hands matter? If he could kill the person he loved the most, and still go on albeit as an empty shadow of his former self - what did it matter who else joined Her beyond the grave?

Except, he hadn't killed Her.

It had been the first thing Palpatine revealed to him; as his severely burnt and scorched flesh still stung and charred within the fresh confines of its haphazardly crafted life support system. As he was still confounded regarding what was real, and what was a waking nightmare. Trapped within the suit that would become the prison of his own making.

“You killed her,” Palpatine had rasped.

Those were his Master’s words. His only explanation. Insinuating that Vader had for one crucial moment lost control, lost his mind; and subsequently ended the one person he'd fallen so far from grace to save. The one soul he had been so desperate to salvage that he had willingly sacrificed his morals, and his very identity, if only to reach for that tiny sliver of hope Palpatine had dangled in front of his nose.

‘But I didn't kill Her.’

If he had killed Her, there would be no child. His son - their son - would have died with Her, still in the womb. Would have been buried alongside his mother in the Naberrie family tomb on Naboo. Would have never seen the light of day, never grown into the bright, promising young man who had destroyed the first Death Star. Would never have been named, never have been hidden away, never have been living life peacefully unaware of his heritage in the shadows of the Empire for nearly twenty years.

But he was alive.

Luke had changed everything.

The discovery of his existence had been like a slap to the face, like a stupefying wakeup call. Like Vader had found himself dunked beneath the icy cold waters of truth, forced to realize the bleak reality. Forced to realize that the one person he’d been blindly clinging to in this world, was even cruel than he could ever have anticipated.

Palpatine had lied to him.

Perhaps, Vader had indeed inadvertently caused Her demise - but She had lived long enough to birth their son. She had not died on Mustafar, She had not been strangled to death by the invisible hand of his Force choke. She had survived long enough to set their only child to the world. Long enough to name him Luke; granting him the name She had picked out for their child if it were a boy from the very beginning of Her pregnancy.

She had been right.

The Jedi had been convinced that their child would be a daughter, She had been adamant it was a son. Their son. Luke Skywalker. Named by his mother, bearing the stark reminder of who had fathered him.

‘Luke.’

Dark, shaggy blonde hair and deep blue eyes. The same hard, defiant conviction in his eyes as his mother’s hazel ones had carried. He'd inherited The Jedi's facial features; the same angular boyish face, the same dimpled chin; the same complex. But his spirit was that of his mother's. Burning like a furnace flame, fighting for what he believed was right with a conviction only death could steal away from him. Vader had hoped Luke would be more like himself; easier to break, easier to manipulate, easier to steer in the direction he'd have liked. He had wished he himself could mislead, and pull the strings as well as Palpatine had, some twenty years ago when The Jedi had become tangled in the Emperor's web of lies. Trapped like a fly, to be feasted upon by the ravenous spider.

But Luke was different.

Luke was sensitive, emotional, vulnerable and desperately searching for a way to bond with his long lost father. The Jedi would have recognized himself in those qualities; would have appreciated the similarities. Luke had been deluding himself into expecting a heroic fantasy, envisioning his absent father as one of the men who had singlehandedly led the opposition of what would become the Empire. A as beacon of hope. Instead, he had found himself saddled with the knowledge of what had truly become of The Jedi who had sired him.

Vader clenched his gloved hands into tight fists; the visual memory of Luke's hard set, intent expression as he let go of the ledge still etched into his mind. Blue eyes cold as ice; denying their familiar relations despite knowing very well how the Force did not lie. His Force signature bursting with mistrust, and contempt.

But Luke had lived.

For a short moment, as he watched Luke fall; Vader had been unexpectedly reliving the pain of that moment he came to his senses while still strapped to the operation table, as he broke free from his makeshift shackles.

Crippled; less than half the man he'd used to be. More cybernetics and machine, than flesh and blood. Reaching for Force powers he could no longer tap into; taunting him by remaining just out of reach. He was reminded of crumbling to the harsh floor, beneath the load of his own reconstructed body’s weight; of the searing pain as his respirator attempted to match his sobs with its own periodically synchronized breath cycles.

The physical torment, while a menace in its own right; bearing no likeness to the mental anguish of his breakdown. It had stabbed viciously at his already blackened heart, until nothing but a mangled piece of malformed meat remained; the pang in his chest as he watched the last link to Her fall to his doom bringing it back as a distant echo. He was choosing death over his own father, just as She had chosen death over him and the Empire.

But Luke had survived, by some miraculous whim of the fates. The will of the Force, perhaps. Still in denial; still battered, bruised and disabled. Doomed by his own father to experience the same loss of a limb that Count Dooku had once bestowed upon The Jedi.

The Jedi had been bereft of a right arm; Luke merely of his right hand. It had been a selfish, wicked way of attempting to have his son experience the same indescribable humiliation. Stripped of a part of himself; at the hand of an enemy he had been rushing unprepared to face. Overconfident; in over his head. With this, Luke had learnt never to throw himself head first into a battle he was not equipped to win.

But at what cost?

Vader found himself glaring out into the vast black void ahead of the Executor; clutching at the distant mental link humming between them for a brief moment - like a flicker of light before going out in an instant. Luke was too far away to read; as his signature disappeared along with his ragtag crew of rebels. The Princess no doubt on-board; Vader could tell. Ironic, how it had been her saving his skin this time around.

Still, he felt the frustration bubble up inside. Felt it mingle with the fury; with the disappointment. Despite the carefully calculated trap he'd set, the way it had played out all in his favour until that last moment where Luke broke protocol. His reaction had aligned with none of the scenarios Vader had prescribed beforehand. It had failed; he had failed - and Luke was gone. Just like his mother.

Vader knew he shouldn't be surprised.

Everyone had left him for dead. Whenever he’d dared to love, dared to trust, dared to open up and be vulnerable and sincere - it had been for naught.

Mother, watching with glassy dark eyes when he turned to peer at her over his shoulder one final time; ever the terrified little boy as he left Tatooine behind. The boy who believed the Jedi order would help him free her. Instead; it had kept him from saving her. The last time he’d seen her before her demise; he was only nine years old. She’d been all he knew. Albeit without intention of hurting him, and beyond her own control; Shmi Skywalker had passed away in his arms to leave him alone. Had torn the first hole in The Jedi's heart; had triggered the first act of rampant, blind revenge. His first step towards his dark fate.

“I’m so proud of you, Ani,” she had breathed; as the life left her eyes.

Ahsoka had followed; abandoning him for her own selfish reasons. Walking away from him, dismissing his importance in her life and the value of the lessons he had taught her; the value of their bond. She had made it clear he was never going to be enough; had turned him down despite his pleading, his admission that he understood her feelings better than anyone. The Jedi had failed his padawan, the only one to believe in her innocence and to what end? Ahsoka had still turned him down.

“..And without you,” she had whispered.

Obi Wan was next in line; siding with the maniacal teachings of the Jedi order. Fighting to avenge them - all the while outright lying to his face, trying to trick him into believing he could still return to him. Trying to make The Jedi believe that his former master had ever considered him a brother. That they were ever more than merely master and apprentice; that The Jedi was never the burden or a disappointment he’d felt he was. That he was important to Obi Wan, too, in a way he had never outwardly expressed. That Obi Wan, who never formed attachments after what happened to the Duchess of Mandalore; had been so overtly attached to him.

“I loved you,” he had sobbed.

And then Her; who had turned down his offer of keeping Her by his side. Turned down the offer to become untouchable, as his Empress. Betrayed him, in spite of all he had sacrificed for Her. He had killed younglings for her. His brothers and sisters; his entire life slaughtered in the crumbling ashes of the burning Jedi Temple. To learn the ways of the Dark Side, to join the Sith - to keep Her from dying. And She had thanked him by rejecting him; by claiming She could not follow him anymore.

“I love you,” she had cried; and for the first time in his life - he didn’t believe her.

Now, Luke had chosen to stride the same path. Selfish, like Ahsoka. He too believing in the lies Obi Wan had fed him. Believing himself too virtuous, too pure just like Her. Believing that any lives he had taken in the name of the Rebellion - and his misplaced sense of civil justice - to be easier to explain away, than those his father had claimed. But in a way, Vader supposed it was no surprise Luke took after his mother. His son’s intentions were fair, his sacrifices rational. She had been pure, and good; though She was not fully innocent in the wake of the war, either; she had known where She stood.

Luke had inherited the same sense of morality, the same hunch for standing up for the weak. Standing up against the Empire, as a way of breaking free; of fighting back against the leading elite. Although, his desperation to make a difference and be of importance mirrored that of The Jedi.

Vader had sworn before the battle at Bespin that Luke would be turned. But could he?

Luke was still but a youth; still naive and starry eyed - despite some of that innocence being ripped away in the very moment Vader had revealed to him the truth. But he was secure; he was so steadfast in himself and who he perceived himself to be. The Jedi had been going astray when he was the same age; his fears and insecurities eating him alive. Luke was already an adult; had already defeated his demons.

“I am your father,” Vader had said to him.

The response he’d received was that of Luke crying out in agony, in begrudging despair. All the while knowing that the grim revelation was nothing but the truth. Perhaps Luke would now see that the line between good and evil; right and wrong was not as straight as he had supposed. It was a blurry, tangled mess; the road to hell paved with good intentions. Vader's own road to hell surely had been. But Luke was paving his very own road elsewhere, it seemed.

Still, it stung Vader’s damaged eyes. The rage swelling in his chest; filling the empty void of broken, shredded pieces of what was once his heart. For a second, the shade of glowing amber that coloured his eyes a sickly, Sith yellow faded. Gave way for a pale, tired blue. Bleached by the scorching flames of Mustafar’s lava streams. The same blue eyes The Jedi had once sported. The same blue eyes his son now possessed. Vader shook his head in frustration, and in an instant the shift was reversed. The embers of his fiery stare bleeding through, devouring the remnants of The Jedi resurfacing.

Or, so he would have hoped.

But the pulsating ache inside; dull and sharp as a blade all at once, remained. Vader knew the feeling; recognized the emotion he’d thought long gone. One that had been numbed and buried deep for so many years; underneath the heaps and drones of twisted, lifeless bodies of his victims.

Remorse.

Regret.

Guilt.

Remorse, for the way in which he had handled his first meeting face to face with his son after he had learned the truth of their connection. Regret, for the way in which he had physically, and mentally, snuffed out some of the light of hope previously clear in Luke's bright blue eyes. Guilt, over the fact that he had purposely driven a wedge between them himself; much like he had done between himself and Her. He found he knew no other way.

Vader pursed what was left of his charred lips behind the face plate. He glared at the distant stars, sparkling like burning orbs against the inky sky behind them. Spanning eons of light years ahead. Filling the distance between himself and Luke, making it palpable. Tangible.

He despised Obi Wan for lying to his son. Despised the way in which he had deluded Luke into believing in a childish fairytale. Despised him for telling Luke that his father was dead, that his father was now unreachable.

‘But is that not what you tell yourself?’

Vader turned his head to the side, as if to deny the suggestion. Still, the quiet voice nagging at the back of his head would not be silenced.

‘Do you not constantly tell everybody that Anakin Skywalker is dead? That you destroyed him? Is that not what you tell yourself? Luke is not your son; he's The Jedi’s son.’

‘Luke is my son. My flesh and blood. Mine alone,’ Vader shot back silently; his inwardly projected diction a sharp hiss of a threat; angled towards the defiant part of his own psyche.

‘Then, you must also admit that you are Anakin Skywalker.’

‘His name means nothing to me.’

‘Then, Luke Skywalker cannot be your son.’

‘He is.’

‘Then, you are indeed Anakin, and you accept that as the only truth.’

‘I am not The Jedi; he was weak and foolish. I destroyed him and his pathetic legacy, he is nobody now. He is nothing.’

‘You cannot claim Skywalker as kin, if you do not acknowledge your own identity.’

‘Silence!’

‘Silence will accomplish nothing. It is too late to undo what you have revealed to yourself.’

Vader forcefully ignored his own intrusive thoughts; locking them back away inside the darkness of his past where they could not bother him.

But weren’t they right?

If Luke was indeed his son; did that not mean that The Jedi had never fully died? How could he be a different man, a separate entity, if he recognized The Jedi's son as his son?

‘And Luke is my son. My son, and he belongs to me. With me.’

He could feel it in his bones; could feel it as deeply as he felt the tendrils of the Dark Side surging through him. As deeply as he felt the connection to his own Force sensitivity, to his own memories of Her. Vader had loved Her - loved Her still - and She had been but the wife of The Jedi. If he thought of Her as his beloved, as his everything; did that not mean he must recognize himself as unchanged? A broken shell, a faded shadow of who he had once been. But the same nonetheless.

A fleeting image of Her passed before Vader’s inner vision. Her kind hazel eyes, full of mournful sorrow. Her silky brown hair, falling in springy curls over Her pale shoulders. His betrayal had destroyed Her; had ripped Her from him. How could he ever repent for that? His eyes prickling; Vader snarled silently to himself - deformed face contorting into a visage of hollow, yet overwhelming anguish.

The Jedi had known that what he had done was wrong; as soon as he stopped to think about it. Had known the lives he'd taken could never be accounted for, could never be justified. That, much as he liked to think killing the younglings had set them free from a cruel fate of being twisted by the unkind religion of the Jedi Order; he had been ridden with the burden of their murder. He had locked that knowledge away; had forced himself to deny its meaning.

Still, now, he was not as sure anymore. He found himself wavering; suddenly not as certain of his future as he had once been. Not as convinced of his purpose to suffer for eternity, while bringing upon others the same torment. Vader didn't even take note of the wetness pooling at the corners of his bloodshot yellow eyes until one lone tear broke free to trail down the grooves of his wretched face.

Only then, did the shock seep in.

When had he last cried? Had it been on Mustafar, after he had slayed the Separatists and the realization of what he had just committed himself to came crashing down on him? Had it been when he learnt of Her demise seconds hand after the brutal life saving ordeal, merging the bodily torture with the psychological agony? Had it been when Ahsoka swore to him that she would not leave his side this time, despite knowing what he had done as Vader? Had it been when he found Obi Wan's tattered robes were all that remained of the old man he had struck down, thinking it would bring him peace but finding himself stricken only by grief? Had it been the last time he was reminded that everything he felt, everything he stood for - everything he believed - came from The Jedi?

Luke knew who his father was.

Knew who he was; knew what he was. Despite having his world toppled over and turned on its head; despite trying to deny it. Vader had denied the same fact for so long, that he had almost forgotten where the line he'd forged between what he considered to be The Jedi and himself was drawn. All he knew for certain, was that Luke was his son. And if he wanted to cling to that one scrap of light; there were so many horrendous actions he needed to take responsibility for as well.

The Jedi had never truly died. The Jedi had only ever evolved, had only ever changed as life itself changed and formed him into a dark dealer of vengeance. Had been molded by the path he chose, and by the people he’d loved and lost. Had been hollowed out; until only the carcass remained.

It was The Jedi that had killed Her; he had stolen Her will to live, he had snuffed out Her longing for peace.

It was The Jedi that killed Ahsoka; having zero quells with beheading her as soon as she denied him what he wished for; denied him her allegiance.

It was The Jedi that had killed Obi Wan; striking him down after convincing himself that the blame was all on him, and that it would diminish with the death of his former Jedi Master.

Now, they remained lingering in his peripheral like translucent specters. Like a haunting reminder of how he may never escape. May never forget. May never be able to fully buy into his own lies. May never be forgiven.

The Jedi - Anakin - was still very much alive. Not thriving, but crumbled to the bare bones of a forsaken human being. Beaten down by life, enslaved by one person after the other. But he had a son.

As another tear trailed lazily down his cheek; Vader flinched. The sensation overwhelming him, a mixture of heavenly relief and excruciating devastation. It seemed one may never appear without the other in its tow. The name of The Jedi was supposed to mean nothing to him; was supposed to be an empty callback to a past long since abandoned and overcome. Was supposed to be a distant remnant of a man that no longer breathed. In itself, that was true from a certain point view.

But if it had truly meant nothing, it would never have stung the way it did whenever uttered for Vader to hear. When She said it. When Ahsoka said it. When Obi Wan said it. Whenever it was uttered, it would bring forth all the suffering The Jedi had caused. And all the contempt The Jedi harboured towards his own visage. Therein lay the answer.

‘I am Luke’s father. Luke is my son. I am Darth Vader.’

‘And Anakin Skywalker,’ the pestering murmur of his inner voice whispered.

Anakin no longer had the strength to suppress, or deny that statement.

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Can be found on my Ao3 below, repost from my original acc.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048643

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