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physicalturian · 3 years

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[18+] Filthy Summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader (AFAB)

[No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [AFAB Reader]

Words : 6710

Archive of our own

Follows the work of Gentle Summer or can be read on its own.

Synopsis : On a heated summer night, you and Rengoku decide to finally fuck after a pretty intimate moment.

Warning : Oral Sex / Light Bondage / Cunnilungus / Creampie / Cum play / Hair-Pulling / Power play / Marking / Aftercare / Fluff / Smut / Penis in vagina sex

If you feel like I should add more warnings, let's go gang.

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A comfortable silence had set in the night. I thought I would be exhausted. Wrapped in the safety of his arms, I was certain I would fall asleep in an instant, but my body did not want to listen to logic. Something else was doing the thinking, and that was my lust. My need for him. The moon outside was illuminating the inside of the room beautifully. I could not see much of Rengoku’s face because the light of the moon cast a shadow on it. The flame of the lantern had long since died out.

I brushed my hand delicately on his cheek and sighed in silence. There was nothing I could do to satiate that need that had built up inside me; he had fallen asleep almost instantly after laying down. It seems I was the only one who was left frustrated and wanting, it’s a shame, I thought I had done a great job at riling him up, I thought in disappointment. The image of his eyes widened in surprise and the feeling of his tight grip around my hand were carved inside my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop thinking about it.

Carefully, I brushed my thumb over his lips and smiled to myself as I moved his hand to rest it on my hip. Maybe his presence would help me fall asleep, maybe he would bring me closer and hold me tight and that would calm my stupidly awake mind. Closing my eyes once again, I tried to force myself to think of something other than his lips on my skin, or his hands on my stomach, or even his breath against my ear—it’s not working, it is like asking someone to not imagine a red balloon. Of course, they will think about it, I reprimanded myself as I opened my eyes again. “I need a cold bath, surely it will help,” I mumbled to myself. It was barely audible, and clearly not enough to awake anyone.

When I was about to move Kyojuro’s hand, I felt the grip tighten, “Where are you going?” His voice was nowhere close to sleepy, the clarity of it surprised me more than anything. Looking at him, I chuckled nervously and asked, “Were you not asleep?” He hummed deeply, thinking of his next words as his hand slid down my leg. He brought it over his thigh and moved his face closer to mine, our foreheads almost touching. “One can hardly sleep with how loud your thoughts are, my love,” I was about to ask what he meant when he pressed a slow kiss on my lips before continuing, “I am very flattered that you cannot keep my hands off of you.” His hands slithered to my kimono, the moonlight helping him see what he was doing. He chuckled softly at the knot I had tied around again and undid it effortlessly.

“Did you think tying it close would help those lewd thoughts that are plaguing your desperate mind?” He asked teasingly. I laughed and nodded sincerely, “In all honesty, I did. But you are right next to me, and those thoughts are only growing.” His beautiful laugh echoed while he pulled me even closer, I let my hand wander between us and lower on his body to part his kimono. He had not dressed back when we laid down, which made it easier to simply move his kimono out of the way to have him exposed in his full glory. “You are impatient, maybe I should do something about your hands, what would you say?” He asked teasingly as he helped my arms out of the sleeves before bringing them around his neck.

I gladly wrapped them around it and leaned in for a tender kiss that was quick to turn into something more needy. His hands did not join the mix, but I did hear the rustle of cloth which made me question what he was doing. I found out soon enough when his rough hands took hold of mine and wrapped my wrists with the cotton belt that only moments ago was around my waist. I broke the kiss in confusion, then felt him lift me onto his lap as he sat up, crossed-legged like he had earlier when he wanted us to hug. This hug was a lot different.

My knees were on each side of him and I could feel his hard cock against my stomach; my core ached to feel it, so I rolled my hips in the hope that he would let me do just that. With one hand back on my hip, he stopped me from moving and brought his other hand on his cock, “That neediness was not nearly as well depicted in your letters as it is right now, with your pretty legs open like this. It’s a sight that would make any man’s knees buckle, you are lucky I am seated.” His tone, while warm as usual, was not the same. The warmth that traveled my entire body was much more carnal, less charming. “Is that so? Being fully nude on your lap is all that is needed to make you weak?” I asked playfully. With the little access I had from having my wrists tied, I pulled his hair back gently to tilt his head up and look down at him.

A pretty grin was resting on his lips, it was inviting and what kind of guest would I be to refuse such an invitation... Slowly, I dipped my head and grazed my lips against his, making sure to exhale against his mouth as our noses brushed against one another. “Tell me, what else would make you weak?” I asked, my tone sultry and playful at the same time. I heard his breathless, yet choked laugh as he half-closed his eyes to look at me, “You remembered the hair, I like it. You seem to remember my letters so well… Tell me,” His lips were pressed teasingly on mine, I did not play along and kissed him with more fervor, only to have him push my face away by grabbing my jaw with a bit more force.

“Would you please wait? You seem so eager, but we are having a discussion, my love,” He trailed his open mouth from my chin to my ear then continued, “Then again, you were that eager even before that, who am I to act surprised?” He chuckled, kissing my jaw fully. I huffed a laugh to hide the fact that I was growing flustered and said, “So were you. Need I remind you how aroused you got the moment I started kissing your body? Such tender actions, tainted by your lewd thoughts... Quite sinful, wouldn’t you say?” The moment I finished talking, Rengoku placed his large hand on my lower back to push me closer as his other one was behind my head. He then leaned forward, making me fall back on my back on the futon.

I did not hit it hard thanks to his hands, but it felt weird not being able to catch my fall because of my tied hands. Another laugh escaped his lips, his eyes wide and bright as a proud smile adorned his lips. He slowly let go of my body and moved his head from my arms so that they were now still bound at the wrists, but resting between us. “Shall we re-enact those so-called tender actions of yours?” I was confused by his words, then felt his large hand grab mine and guide them to his cock. He then wrapped them around it, sighing in pleasure when I tightened my hold around his erected member. “Good, yes-“ A groan escaped his throat as he bucked his hips inside my hands, dropping his head onto my shoulder as he kept going, his mouth open as his breath was constricted.

“Those beautiful hands that-“ a salacious moan escaped his lips again, this time right next to my ear. I couldn’t help but try to bring him closer by bringing my foot on his back and digging my heel against it to push him closer. I wanted to feel him, not just hold his cock, even if the idea of being in control of his pleasure was more than exciting. “Were so gentle in taking care of me, but-“ I could hear the smile through his words, “...but all they are good for now-“ another deep groan muffled against my skin, I wanted to see how far he would go, if he would only find his own pleasure or if he was simply having fun. I was waiting for an opportunity. “Is to make my cock feel so good-“ Feeling like his thrusts were getting wilder, more desperate, I did the thing I found the most entertaining in times like these. The moment he bit into my shoulder in pleasure, I let go of his cock and heard him gasp loudly next to me in indignation.

“Do not talk about my hands as such, they can take as much as they give.” I said tauntingly as I pressed my cheek to his face only to have him lean back and look at me with an amused expression. “I suppose it is time to enjoy how beautiful your voice is,” He grinned as he moved back slightly and was now kneeling between my spread legs. I could not keep my gaze on his eyes, for mine kept looking down at his glorious cock that seemed to be needing attention. “Although I wish to make you moan loudly, you will have to be quiet-“ “What if my moans were muffled by… something?” I tried to make him understand by looking down between his legs. His expression faltered, seemingly surprised by my suggestion.

I did not miss the smile in the corner of his mouth as he threaded his hand through his hair before slowly standing up and lighting the lantern. He joined my side again, this time he brought a knee to his chest while his other leg was free in front of him. “Seeing how you seem almost hungry for it, I will not refuse.” He gestured for me to come closer. I sat up properly and knelt in front of him, only to have him spread my knees with a gentle laugh. “You look delicious like that, my dear.” He commented, his hands sliding to my slit to stroke it a few times, eliciting a gasp from my throat.

He brought his fingers back to his mouth and licked it, the action in itself was so vulgar but the smile on his face was soft. His words were a mix of both, “You know, you must always have a taste of your meal, in case it’s not to your liking.” He leaned in and kissed me tenderly, albeit shortly, leaving me wanting more with my mouth open. He filled it with his fingers to have me taste it too and added, as I licked them clean, “After all, I will eat you out once you have satiated that hunger for my cock.” I almost gagged on his fingers upon hearing his words, he pulled them out laughing before threading them in my hair and slowly pushing my head towards his cock.

“There, I did say I would work on that gagging, did I not? It is the perfect opportunity,” He was almost determined. His other hand placed itself under my chin and held it gently as he helped his cock inside my mouth, holding me still as he did so. His fingers drummed on my throat a few times as silent gasps escaped his lips. “Very—good, yes-“ He grunted in short sentences, if one could call them such. My tongue was pressed against his length, I could feel it hit the back of my throat and slightly push in, making my eyes tear up. Saliva was already drooling from my mouth, and down the length of his cock. Curiously, I looked up at him and was met with a look I would have never thought I would see on his face, something close to threatening, no… dangerous.

Slowly, I tried to bob my head onto his member, but without the support of my hands that had drifted between my legs, I had to rely on Kyojuro’s tight grip in my hair. Sliding his hand fully around my throat, he looked at me with what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Beautiful, so full-“ He hissed as he moved inside my mouth, lifting my head only to let it come back after. His hand tightened around my neck at the feeling, enjoying knowing he could feel himself there. “Will you allow me to fuck your throat good? I will not finish in your mouth,” I nodded the best I could with his cock in my mouth and started stimulating myself as he started bobbing my head on his cock. While he did so, he gritted through his teeth, beaming, “I reserve that for you needy- aching- hole,” The thoughts of having him fill me only aroused me more.

Pain joined the exquisite feeling of my fingers on my clitoris, his grip was not letting go of my hair one bit as he lowered my head down his cock before pulling back. At first he leaned his head back, enjoying the feeling greatly, the sound of my whimpers around him made him more than ecstatic. I knew it from his openmouthed moans that he was not muffling one bit. When I started rolling my hips against my hand, he looked down at me suddenly, stopping his actions. “My dearest, do you need attention?” He hummed inquisitively, his eyes traveling down my body to land on my hands. “I see what’s going on, you are very smart to enjoy yourself too,” He praised me before thrusting his hips once in my throat. I gagged at the feeling, more tears streaming down my face but held back anything that I could feel coming up. “I will stop for tonight, since you are so needy.” He cooed gently.

Delicately, he pulled out of my mouth, grunts leaving his throat as he did so. A trail of saliva connected my tongue to his tip; looking at him through half-lidded eyes, I leaned in and licked it painfully slow. He quickly pulled my head back roughly, then let go to cradle my face with both hands. “You did good.” A tender kiss followed, it turned more passionate when he pried my mouth open and let his tongue venture. As he did so, he pushed me back onto the futon and broke the kiss. “Will you forgive me if I tell you the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks, along the feeling of my cock in your throat, is one that I would like engraved in my mind? You have no idea how salacious and endearing it was at the same time.”

Both chuckling, he trailed kisses down my chest to my stomach. While he did so, I croaked, “I will forgive, simply because you must be quite the sight too with my thighs around your head.” I must have caught him off guard for he snorted without much charm upon hearing my words. “I will admit, it is the best accessory I can ask for,” He commented, his fingernails barely clawing at my inner thighs as he looked at me, “And I like colorful accessories, do you?” His tone was mischievous, his eyes too but his smile was sweet. Hesitantly, I nodded. It made him grin broadly as he started fervently kissing my thighs, sucking and licking. Nibbling on them too. While his mouth would be on my inner thighs, one hand would be gripping the one being attacked while the other wrapped around the other thigh and kept it close to him.

I would sometimes chuckle at the light feeling of his tongue on my skin, goosebumps raising all over my body. I threaded my fingers through his hair gently, needing to touch him but only being able to reach that part. My legs were over his shoulders; I could feel some pain coming on the parts of my legs he had been working on, but was able to not pay it any mind thanks to the frustration I was feeling. He was so close to giving me pleasure, but he was taking his sweet time. “Kyo, why are you taking so long? Please…” He looked up, his smile more teasing than ever. “My love…” He bit my leg gently, his eyes never leaving mine before continuing, “I assumed you were patient, considering it took some long, painful courting to get us right here.” He bit the other thigh, earning himself a groan from me. He grazed his teeth on it afterwards, “I remember the mention of not wanting to be inappropriate in those beautiful letters of yours.” He trailed off, his hands slithering between my legs and onto my ass as he suddenly pulled me closer.

“Tell me, don’t you believe it vulgar to be spread as such in front of me?” I felt warmth rushing to my cheeks and down between my legs, my back was oscillating between burning hot and cold from the shivers that kept coursing through my body. “If you do not like the sight, you may let go of them, I will close them to not look too vulgar.” I said in faux confidence, making him huff in response. Shaking his head, he made sure to spread them just a little bit more. His observant eyes travelled from my eyes down to my stomach then paused to slowly lower to my spread legs; there, a smirk drew itself on his lips, “You will close them, yes,” after saying that, he lowered his head onto my slit, “Around my head. Don’t be shy to wrap them real tight, I can assure you I will survive.” He winked, then dipped his head and started lapping at my cunt.

I wanted to cover my mouth and hold onto his hair, but could only do one. I chose the former, in order to not wake up everyone with the whimpers escaping my lips. With each movement of his tongue between my lower lips, I would arch my back when he’d graze my clit with the tip of his tongue. His nose would press against it from time to time, giving it a little bit of pressure, but not nearly as much as I would need. I tried to angle my hips to guide myself on a spot that would make me feel even better, but he made sure to hold me still by gripping my sides. Looking up with a glistening chin and out of breath, he gave a slow lick between my legs, “Are you alright? Perhaps, is it not good enough?” His tone was teasing, arrogant, but loving still. I wanted to grab his chin and kiss him deeply, but did not trust he would let me. Freeing my mouth, I uttered, “You are doing it on purpose, can you please…”

Tilting his head to the side he quirked a brow, “If you look at me like this, I can hardly refuse,” He started, there was something else he wanted to add. I knew it from the look he was giving me. He did not disappoint when he spoke up again. “But only if you bring those beautiful hands back on my hair. My purpose here is to make my songbird sing, I can hardly hear anything if your hands are covering your mouth my love.” Doing as he asked, I brought my hands to him, but instead of gripping his hair I gently took hold of his chin, “So you do keep that beautiful way with words,” I commented as I pressed my thumbs on his lower lip to open his mouth. He followed my moves and did so, his smile never leaving his face. “If filthy words will not leave that pretty mouth of yours, I suppose I’ll fill it with filth myself.”

I was thrilled to see his smile change from mischievous to excited, challenged. I mirrored it. He was quick to bring my hands away from his face and into his hair wordlessly. His only response was to resume his actions with a lot more fervor, his tongue lapping at my sex with the lewdest sounds. The ache I had been feeling for so long was growing and building up inside me, I only realized my thighs were tightening around his head when I felt him grunt against my sex as his nails dug deeper in my skin. Whimpers were flooding from my mouth; it was not nearly enough to drown the salacious wet sounds from his tongue between my legs. While it made my entire body heat up in embarrassment, I could not spare one ounce of energy to feel remotely ashamed of what was happening. Moans soon followed when he started sucking on my clit, his eyes lit up with pride when he elicited a louder one.

At that, his hands slithered to my thighs to hold them open instead of around his head. He looked up at me playfully as he did so, “I liked that one, I am sure you could do it again, for me?” “Kyo—Kyo we’re not alone, don’t-“ He did not listen and returned all his attention to my sensitive nerves. My brows knotted in pleasure, I let my head roll back. I was getting close to relief, my eyes riveted on the ceiling as my entire body tensed. He did not seem like stopping, nothing was leading me to that conclusion, and it made me happier the moment my vision filled with white, and I let out a cry of relief. Utter silence followed, I slumped back on the mattress and sighed in content, my hand had long since let go of Rengoku’s hair and was now resting on my stomach.

I gasped when I felt a lazy tongue lick between my folds then saw Kyojuro’s face right above mine, a stupid smile on his lips. His skin glistened from my filth. He was not grinning, but I knew something was going on when he kissed me softly and pried my mouth open to deepen the kiss. His tongue intruded my mouth with something more salty than saliva, it took me some time to come to the realization of what he had done; I quickly broke the kiss and swallowed to speak but was interrupted by the sliding of the door open. I looked behind Rengoku’s shoulder in panic, trying to bring him against me to cover my sweaty form. It was pointless to fake sleeping since the light was on and my eyes were wide in shock.

The sleepy form of Uzui stood there, his hair messy and his eyes, half-closed, focused on us. “It’s Tengen.” I whispered to Rengoku who still had his back facing the door. “He is half-asleep.” I added. The red-haired smirked and kissed my neck, “I’ll tell him to leave.” He chuckled before pulling the blanket on my form as he stood up. He did not bother to cover himself as he made his way to the door, fully nude and uncaring of anything. “Giyuu said he heard something, but since it was coming from your room he did not dare come in case y’all were…” the silver-haired man waved his hands in front of him to explain exactly what he meant; as he tried to look behind Kyojuro’s shoulder, the latter moved in the way to block his view. “In case you were fucking, clearly he guessed right.” He laughed, facing the Fire Pillar again. “We are, is there anything else?” Rengoku asked.

There was a pause, I was starting to calm down which made me feel annoyed since I wanted to finish what I had started with my lover. “Well, clearly the night has just started,” The Sound Pillar laughed again, “Just tone down the moans and all that, fuck all you want but just a bit more silent, yeah?” Kyo nodded and gestured for him to leave, still as confident as ever without needing to cover his cock, nor the marks all over his body. Before leaving, Uzui glanced behind Rengoku the best he could and covered his mouth in excitement before looking at my lover again. “Tied up? On the first fuck? You are wilder than I thought, Ren!” I heard him say, quickly I tried to cover my hands more. Uzui slapped his hand on the lion-like man’s shoulder and said, “Good for you, both of you. Have fun, don’t be late for training—and take a bath, there is paint all over the damn place. That’s some weird shit you’re into, not going to lie. Good night friend.” He then bid us goodbye and closed the door again.

Rengoku returned by my side in seconds, “Unnecessary interruption, I hope it did not turn you off my love.” He whispered softly as he removed the blanket from my form and pressed a kiss on my stomach. “All of this because you told me to uncover my mouth, it was obvious someone would hear.” I berated him playfully, thinking he would perhaps apologize but still say he did not regret it. While he did the latter, partially, he added more to it. “If it was that obvious, why did you do it?” He asked with a smug smile, his face close to mine once again as his fingers danced on my thighs. Slowly, they slid to the inner side of it while I stared at him confused, “Because you asked me to do it…” I told him with my cheeks heating up.

“You could have refused, my love.” He breathed, his lips ghosting over mine. “You know I would not have minded if you had refused.” He added, this time pressing a teasing kiss on my lips. I could feel the smile on his lips as his hair tickled the side of my face. Breaking the kiss for a moment, he pressed himself more against me and as he spoke, “Did you want to get caught?” he slid two fingers inside me, making me gasp silently at the unexpected feeling. I shut my mouth to hold back any groans from the thrusts of his fingers, but he was not having it; his free hand moved to my mouth and pried it open with his thumb, his expression softer than ever. “There, my love, I am sure you can give me a proper answer. Don’t be distracted by my fingers, focus on me.” As he said so, he made sure to add another finger and to rub his thumb on my clit.

Swearing under my breath, I tried to grab his shoulders, but was still bound and grunted in desperation. “Maybe you wanted that—“ He curled his fingers inside me, grunting in satisfaction at the sound that escaped my throat. Rengoku’s face was nested in my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he whispered right next to my ear, “My love, you obeyed so dutifully when I told you to open your pretty mouth,” He chuckled to himself, never stopping his thrusts as I kept whimpering under him, trying hard to stay as silent as possible. When I rolled my hips against his hand, he kissed my temple softly and caressed my cheek. The tenderness of his actions could not balance the roughness of the one that followed when he grabbed my throat to bring me into a delicate kiss that he quickly broke. “Can you obey once more and answer my simple question? I’m sure you can be good and do that for me, hm?”

Giving him a long look, I smiled lazily and cradled his face in my hands to kiss him longingly, the sounds of my moans were muffled by his mouth. It did not take long for the kiss to grow more sloppy, more needy and clearly hungry. Feeling Kyojuro’s cock pressed against my thigh, I closed them around his cock and made him moan into the kiss, breaking it in the process. “Do not think I will be satisfied with just fucking your beautiful thighs, my love,” His gaze never leaving mine, he brushed his thumb on my throat and pulled his fingers out to spread my legs and instead place his between mine. Leaning over once again, he pressed the tip of his cock against my hole but did not move, instead he kissed my cheek, then my throat and grabbed my tied hands delicately. My eyes followed all of his movements, never leaving his body. I wanted to know what he wanted to do next, I wanted to be ready, to not be caught off guard again. “Would you like to use your hands again? I’d like to think it would feel better for both of us if you could use them.” He smiled gently, his hands playing with mine while waiting for an answer.

“I think you’ve held me down long enough; I would love to be able to run my hands all over your gorgeous body.” I said playfully, thrusting my hands towards him even more. I held back from smiling to not let him know what I was planning on doing. He scoffed and smiled before undoing the knot; the moment I was free, it did not take me more than a few seconds to bring him down and roll him over to be the one on top and pin his hands above his head.

The thrilled expression that was adorning his features filled me up with glee as I leaned over and ghosted my lips over his, just as he did before. “My turn,” I breathed with a smirk, “But I won’t tie your hands, I think they will be more than useful when you will be desperate to feel me more.” I taunted as I placed my hands on his hips and raised my hips above his hardened cock; I did not have time to lower myself that the Pillar held me in place and sat up. It made me move my hands on his shoulders and grip them tight, in case he decided to take control. “Do you remember my question? I believe I am still waiting for your answer.” He grinned darkly, an open kiss pressed at the spot where my neck and my shoulders met.

“It was… thrilling that Uzui was there, but it is simply because it is the boldest we’ve been in front of him,” I said softly, then lowered my tone and ghosted my lips against the shell of his ear as I added, “If I am being honest, seeing you walk there without covering yourself was a lot hotter than that idiot being there,” One of my hands placed itself on his jaw as I kissed his cheek, “And I got to see your beautiful bum too, which is more than a simple sight.” Chuckling, we kissed passionately, our hands traveling one another’s body. I could feel his cheeks were burning up, perhaps from the efforts and all the energy spent, but I liked to think he was flustered from my words. I realized his hands were not holding me anymore, while they were resting on my hips again by the end of our fiery kiss, they were doing just that, resting.

With my hands back on his shoulders, I did not waste time and lowered myself onto his cock. I tried hard to hold back the swearing from flooding out of my mouth, but the feeling of his cock stretching me out was painful and blissful at the same time. Without paying attention, I had spread my legs wider to get more of him inside me. Warmth spread all over my body when I heard him sigh in content, his hands gripping my waist to hold himself back from pulling me onto him with force. His nails were pressing hard into my skin and only dug more when I had him fully sheathed inside me and I rolled my hips once, twice. Looking up at him, I saw he was staring at me with hunger, a clear carnal desire that I matched by kissing him wantonly. One hand was splayed on his cheek while the other held onto his shoulder as I started lifting myself up and down his erected cock, rolling my hips as I did so. Soon enough, our grunts of pleasure started filling the room, our sweaty bodies melted into one when he wrapped his strong arm around my back and pulled me even closer.

The slick sound of his cock thrusting in and out of me made the act even more vulgar, but at this very moment I could not care less. I was focused on feeling each part of him, on feeling his burning touch traveling from my back to my shoulders as he tried to bring me even closer to bury his face in the crook of my neck. His moans were the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard coming from him, the heat emanating from his entire body was heating mine in return. His warm breath made my neck feel like it was on fire, even more so when he bit into it and groaned in pleasure as he started thrusting more. I had long since wrapped both of my arms around his neck and was holding onto him with force.

No words could escape my mouth, only whimpers and muffled moans as I tried to cover my mouth. I kept switching between covering my mouth or grabbing his shoulders, desperately trying to stay balanced but when he leaned forward, I let him tilt me back onto the floor with his hand resting behind my head. With his free hand, he held onto my waist and started ramming into me, his breath ragged and his mouth open as groans and moans escaped it, emphasizing each of his thrusts. Seeing him so primal was a sight I do not believe I could get tired of. Through high-pitched whimpers I reached out for his face, sliding my hand to the back of his hair as I pulled him closer once again. “Kiss me, please.” I pleaded. “Yes, of course, yes.” He replied, his speech hurried, tone desperate as he lifted my head from the ground with the hand resting behind it. The kiss was clumsy, dirty but it felt so good.

It felt so good to be this close to him, to not think of anything but the pleasure one was giving the other. He hiked my leg over his hip to angle himself better and as he did so, I arched my back in satisfaction, he had hit the perfect spot. He must have understood that since he swelled with pride and kept hitting that very spot over and over again, his speed decreased to a taunting one. “Look at you, squirming for more,” He huffed and caressed my stomach, down to my thighs, “Are you close, my love?” He had asked with a soft breathless smile, his hair covering the sides of his face. “Yes, please,” I let my head fall back once more and sighed, trying to catch my breath, “Please, make me cum, I’m aching for release, if you don’t—“ There was no need for threats, he was more than glad to resume his thorough fucking. There was no other word for it.

The entire evening had been love making, intimacy, gentle touches, but it had now turned into something so desperate that it could only be called fucking. Hands reaching for any sort of hold onto the other, sweat making the grip less secure, the paint from our bodies had long since tainted the sheets and was no longer adorning our backs. Our hands were covered in said paint, and as they traveled from back to shoulder to face, it left a colorful trail that made the body look even more like a work of art.

Soon enough, the tension that had built up inside me reached a peak. All I needed to break that tension was a few more thrusts that were strongly provided by Rengoku’s rough, heavy, forceful hips. At this blissful moment, all I managed to do was hold his arms in a death grip and mutter his name under my breath alongside swears as I felt myself tense for what felt like too long before letting my entire body relax and my hands fall back to my side. Kyojuro followed soon enough, one hand reaching for my cheek as he caressed me gently. His look was desperate as his thrusts became more erratic, seeing as if he was about to pull out, I wrapped my leg around his waist to stop him and with a tired arm reached out for the side of his neck to pull him close. “Don’t pull out, I want to feel you, all of you.” That was all he needed to finish, his movements stopping as his head fell back in utter pleasure.

Silence followed, moments after Kyojuro laid down next to me in exhaustion. He still had enough energy to help my head onto his chest to caress me gently, both of our bodies were dirty and reeked of sweat, but I could not care less. I did not want to think of anything but this very moment, from his words he wanted that too, “If you give me one hour, I am sure I could do that again.” He whispered, his eyes locked on the ceiling as a proud smile adorned his lips.

Trying to face him, I turned around on his chest with my chin resting on it. “Give me a few days, I am definitely not ready for more. As good as it was, I am out of commission for the time being.” I laughed as I trailed my hand on the scar on his stomach. I was relieved when he did not tense up and instead mimicked my actions but trailing a finger on the scar on my back. “Do you have energy to spare for a bath? I do not believe we’ll have time in the morning to bathe. It is already pretty late.” He explained softly as he rested his cheek against the side of my head, I was already starting to feel sleepy but knowing he was right, I pushed myself off of him and nodded sleepily. “I will find the energy. If I fall asleep in the bath, it is your responsibility. Understood?” I asked playfully as I handed him his kimono before draping mine over my form.

“I will keep you awake by talking to you without ever stopping, does that sound good?” He asked cutely as he stood up. He reached out for my hand, helping me stand up before pulling me close and hugging me gently.

“There is nothing more I could ask for than to hear you talk, please do.” I huffed a laugh then kissed him tenderly, enjoying each and every second spent by his side on this beautiful evening. When I pulled back, I tucked his hair behind his ears and grinned, “Tying your hair was not very helpful considering most of it fell from the ribbon.”

“It matters not! I looked very hot to you for a moment, I am sure you enjoyed it while it lasted.” He winked, his hand sliding down my arm to hold my hand. “Now you have the responsibility to wash my hair-“ “Mane,” I corrected him, “It is no longer hair seeing how many knots there are in it.” I continued playfully as we made our way out of the bedroom.

As we finished the night, I thought for a second I could imagine spending the rest of my life in this pure happiness, having someone I loved by my side, taking care of that someone as they took care of me.

Maybe everything will be alright, maybe I’m allowed some happiness.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x rader #rengoku x reader #kny rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #kny rengoku x reader #kny rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou #smut #physicalturian #writing #writer #filthy summer #ao3 physicalturian

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paganphilosophy · 2 years

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psa: telling someone who is suffering from religious ocd that they should leave their faith is unhelpful. it also means you probably don’t understand ocd.

i am a strong believer that religion is supposed to be a positive influence in your life, and if it's hurting you more than it's helping you, it is perfectly valid to leave it. i would even encourage that, in most circumstances. that isn't to say i would advise leaving whenever things are hard, sometimes religion is just hard. but if over time you find it is consistently hurting you more than helping you, don't force yourself to stay. leave. if you can't work through it, it's okay. i don't believe religion should ever be coercive and it should not be a significant source of pain for you.

in cases of religious ocd, however, this isn't necessarily going to be helpful due to the nature of the disorder. a person suffering with religious ocd may in fact find that their religion makes them anxious often. to someone without ocd, it might appear as if the best course of action for them would be to leave their faith.

if you have ocd, though, you know that this is ultimately futile. 'religious ocd' at the end of the day is just a convenient label, it doesn't actually exist. ocd is ocd. and i could leave my faith, yes, but i am still going to have ocd. it doesn't matter how many things i care about i abandon, it will just move onto the next thing.

i could leave it and maybe by doing so rid myself of my ocd inspired religious anxiety. but even this isn't a guarantee, that still might not make it go away. but even if it did, i would still have ocd. it would move onto the next thing. if i left my faith i would need to move onto something else that was important to me to fill that void it left. and ocd would just end up targeting that instead. if i gave up everything ocd targeted i would, quite literally, have to give up everything.

ocd can and will hold everything you love hostage. it will hollow you out until you have nothing left if you let it. it cannot be satiated. it is endlessly hungry. it devours everything in its path. it doesn't matter what you sacrifice to it. it will never be enough, it will always demand more.

the only reason ocd is targeting someone's religion is because they love it. if they didn't love it, it would leave it alone. religious ocd can sometimes make religion painful. but ocd can make anything painful. i once gave up listening to music for years because ocd had targeted it. you know what? it just found the next thing and tormented me with that instead.

giving it up would not only be devastating for me, it would also not actually solve anything. the problem is not the religion, the problem is the ocd. the only way out is through.

#ocd #actually ocd #religious ocd #religious anxiety #pagan #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #paganblr #witchcraft #witch #mental illness #anxiety #obsessive compulsive disorder #scrupulosity ocd #paganism #religion

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saltpepperbeard · 3 years

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Ravenous ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Well hello hello again lol! A bit weird, huh? I don’t know why exactly I had a sudden surge of motivation, but quite honestly, I’m not mad at it. While the shot I wrote a few days back was a more original idea of sorts, this one was an “anonymous” suggestion. A rather EYEBROW RAISING SUGGESTION™ if you know what I’m saying ha! But for whatever reason, dialogue and ideas started flowing, and here we are! Just couldn’t help but explore Katniss desiring to Spice Things Up a bit. With that being said shjdkhskdls-

Disclaimer: This fic contains NC-17 related material, but y’all been knew. Y’ALL KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GETTING INTO LMAO.

And without further adoooooo...

Ravenous

It’s happening again. Our bedroom seems to rival that of the setting sun, the two dancing and paralleling. Just as the clouds and sky melt into orange, I too, find myself at its mercy. Just as the sun plunges beneath the horizon, so too, do our pelvises atop each other’s. Just as it sets fire to the grasses and trees as it plummets from sight, so too, do our roaming mouths and hands against each other’s bodies.

And just as the sunset is habitual, expected, so is the explosion within. It’s like clockwork. It’s like the mighty star’s journey across the sky. A soft, inviting, and consistent brightness is maintained throughout the day, before utterly exploding into color and passion as ebony surges forth.

The newness and its subsequent excitement must be why it’s so incredibly enticing, so normal in our schedule. To think, I used to be one with the dawn. The coldness, the solitude, and the call for survival...all were my essence. Now though, do I dance and take pleasure in the dusk, flooding with fiery color before all runs dark.

Not that I’m complaining in the slightest. No, I’m a medley of breathy giggles, mewled moans, and messy kisses. The usual, the expected, and the blissful.

So a subsequent shift in the cycle, in the ecstatic repetition, does indeed throw me when it presents.

Losing myself in Peeta each and every night allows my hunger to break free, spilling forth after being locked up for so long. It gnaws, it feasts, and it satisfies, before settling back to a hush, properly quenched. His initial touches, caresses, and kisses do marvels at igniting the starting flames. His following motions and salacious actions work wonders at surging the fire to a roar. And then his sweetness dampens the blaze into finality, into exhausted ashes.

But tonight...Tonight, it’s different. It feels...wrongfully intense.

I am not hungry- I am ravenous. It roars within me as if it’s never been satiated at all. It howls, screams, gnashing for a deeper satisfaction. The area between my legs aches almost painfully so, and the heat surging through my core snarls that it won’t be bested so easily.

Such a sensation almost feels instinctual, animalistic even. And with that notion crossing my mind, an odd picture presents itself within my subconscious. A symbolic representation? Or is it a solution, a suggestion that the deeper confines of my hankering body has pulled up? Either way, it’s bizarre, and subsequently earns a deep blush to my cheeks.

The image of a stag mounting a doe.

It’s something I’ve seen on rare occasion while hunting, a deeply intimate and almost sacred moment birthed from nature’s way. But translating such an intrusive image into our bedroom, into the current situation, and connecting the dots between the symbolism and the craving...

...Oh.

Oh.

My cheeks flush impossibly more so.

What an oddity. Peeta more than satisfies me. He gives me something no one else could possibly come close to offering. He takes me to realms unthinkable, and charts depths once-unexplored. And yet, does my body yearn.

What a foreign desire. I never could have pictured myself in such a position- or...intensely aching for one, rather. With carnal intimacy being so new to me, to the both of us, I never expected my body to erect anything of the sort. But I suppose, the deeper and deeper we traverse in one another, the more and more we’ll unlock. I guess there are still things to be discovered about each other, and complex layers of intimacy waiting to be unlocked...

“...Katniss?”

As if my cheeks couldn’t grow any more fiery.

I must have been quite disconnected, lost in thought and libidinous imagination. My grey eyes rapidly blink to break from the haze, but the desire still careens within. Venturing out from the fog reveals Peeta once more though, his beautiful, bare, handsome form hovering atop me. He too, is flushed, small beads of sweat glistening atop his scarred skin to compliment the fiery sheen within his darkened eyes.

But where there would be normally be a crooked smile, or an agape expression of pleasure, there instead exists confusion, concern.

When our eyes finally meet with clarity, he reaches to softly cup my cheek.

“Hey...” he murmurs, his voice still husky, breathy, “You alright?”

I cannot help but swallow hard. How the hell am I supposed to vocalize such a thing? Is it too taboo to ask for? The idea of...Peeta...taking me from behind?

I’m a mess, shutting my eyes and turning my face into his hand, as if to hide myself away.

“Hey...” His voice sounds more concerned, and a bit warmer. Some of the huskiness has disappeared too. And subsequently, a spark of desperation alights within me; perhaps because the hunger screeches at me to maintain heat.

“Sweetheart-”

Softening sentiments are cut off by a carnal kiss, my body piloting me to fight the dip. I lace my hands around the back of his head and pull his stunned form closer, breathily moaning through the connection. When I feel his lips begin to part though, when I practically taste the confused question forming on his tongue...

I know I have no choice. I know it’s now or never. And if I could stare the hunger dead on, if I could address its call and dive into vulnerabilities with Peeta before...

Surely I can do this too. Hopefully.

“Peeta?” I quickly interject.

I expect him to remain close, but just as ferocious desire pilots me, so too does compassionate concern steer him. He leans as far back as he can with my hands laced through his hair, staring with those inquisitive, stunning blues.

“...Katniss?”

“I...I...”

Just as the first time we delighted in one another, my throat threatens to lock up from anxiety, from fear of the unknown. Just as before, I find it horribly difficult to vocalize my wants. But in knowing that soft and concerned stare, in understanding the eyes that expectantly wait, and in feeling far fierier than previous times, I find the strength I need to produce a voice.

“...Can we...try something different?”

Nerves drive me to bite my swollen lip, as if Peeta’s going to react poorly or something equivalent. But as truly expected, he blinks the concern away before the tension visibly melts above me.

“Oh! Yeah, uh...sure,” he murmurs, beginning to smile despite lingering bits of confusion still present in his brows, “Is that why you...?”

“Yes...”

“Oh,” he breathes, chuckling softly before leaning back in for another kiss. He nestles close once more, our bare forms pressing and creating small hints of tantalizing friction. Be it the throbbing within, or the very present feeling of his erection between us, I break the kiss with quickened pants.

Unbothered now, and in a better understanding towards my desperation, he moves to kiss and bite at my neck. My hips and eyes both roll, the intense lust leaving me less bothered by the various noises sounding from my throat.

Peeta too, must be quickly getting tugged back; I feel him twitch before he softly grunts into the tender skin of my collar.

“What would you like?” he huskily whispers, topping off the question by tracing my bone with his tongue.

Between nerves and the sensations he’s dizzying me with, I briskly shake my head.

“Don’t make me say it...” I wheeze.

I feel his mouth turn upwards against my skin, and he chuckles before drawing forth artistry, painting his way up my neck and cheeks with brushing lips.

“Alright...” he says thickly, and I think I can feel him quivering slightly, “Show me then?”

I tense, but catching his stare grounds me. Beyond the drippings of ebony lust and fiery coals, I can see that beautiful understanding, that adoration with zero judgement. It’s what drove me to explore initially, and thus, does it fuel me once more.

My hands come to rest upon his muscular chest, quivering ever so slightly as I give a gesturing push. He follows my direction without hesitation, moving until we’re both sitting up on the bed. Another bout of hesitance grips me, but upon seeing the sight of him, heavily engorged and nearly flush against his stomach, I break through once again.

My stare manages to break to a necessity then, gazing upon his amputated leg with another bite of my lip.

“Your prosthetic...”

I can see his breath catch, watching his chest heave as I momentarily avoid his stare.

“...I need it?” he whispers.

I can only nod, and he thankfully doesn’t press, scurrying off to retrieve and reattach it. I’m piloted once more; my body seizes the opportunity to get into position while he’s not looking. Though my heart pounds something terrible, though trembles alight in my limbs, I roll onto my hands and knees, poised and ready for what I crave.

Peeta’s to my backside now, so I cannot see his reaction to what I’m offering. I can certainly hear it though, as well as almost feel it, the room seemingly spiking in temperature the moment he notices.

“O-oh...”

I tremble in both deep anticipation and tension, still unable to look at him. There’s a bit of pause though, and right when I think I’ve made a mistake, I feel the bed shift with the re-introduction of his weight. My thighs clench something terrible at his presence behind me, and I feel my entire lower half quivering.

Made even worse when Peeta groans my name.

“Katniss...”

The amount of lust is incredible. I could almost rocket myself backwards upon him. It’s wild, and hard to imagine how I wound up in such a position. But through the salaciousness, through the smoke clouding my brain, nerves still manage to peek.

“Is...this okay?” I shakily whisper.

“Yeah...” he breathes, and I nearly run woozy at the sensation of his hands ghosting my curves, “Is this...?”

I almost move beyond my own control, thrusting my hips backward and placing myself into his grasp. It’s his turn to tremble, and he groans yet again.

“God...Katniss...”

I’m his craft once more. His hands grasp me, knead me, squeezing my voluptuous backside as he would when he prepares dough. And just as the touch readies dough for heat, it too, sets me utterly ablaze.

Unbridled moans and mewls sound from my throat at his massage, my legs spreading wider and my back arching further. There’s barely a connection between anxiety and my ravenous core anymore, hunger almost entirely at the helm.

“God...” Peeta moans again, and such a noise pushes me into raw desperation.

“Peeta...” I whimper in a tone so unlike my own, “Peeta...”

We’re on the same plane. He understands immediately. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just as hungry as I am, made raw by the sight before him.

So he quickly rectifies the situation. I feel the bed shift, before he brings a shaky hand to grasp one of my hips. I’m barely breathing, barely able to process with such deep anticipation. His following words almost don’t reach me, what with the beautifully torturous feeling of his head just barely brushing betwixt my folds.

“Okay...I love you, Katniss...”

I somehow wheeze, somehow manage, those words landing when nothing else can.

“I love you too- AH!”

I’m no stranger to the feeling of Peeta sheathing himself deep within me, to holding him snuggly and tightly in a space reserved just for him. We’ve danced in it and dazzled in each other so much lately that it’s, in fact, almost become something of a second nature.

So it’s definitely strange that just a mere change can have electrifying, incredible effects.

The cry from his entrance was utterly unavoidable; he feels deeper and heavier than ever before. I’m stunned at how different it feels, at the intensity behind it. He’s within familiar grounds, and yet it feels entirely new.

I’m dazed, but my hunger is utterly elated. It sings at the feeling, rejoices, driving me to slide myself backwards against him, swallowing him impossibly deeper.

His groan intersects beautifully with mine, the both of us likely relishing in the sensations. When I dare to ease my hips forward again, I feel Peeta’s other hand reach to grasp. With his hold complete, he pulls me back as he thrusts deeply.

And I already find that I’m quickly losing control, everything working to utterly unravel me.

The strokes, so deep and reaching, quickly earn a stream of incoherence from my hanging mouth. I moan and whimper and grunt a plenty, weaving a tapestry of pleasured nothings.

“Mmm...Oh, God...Peeta...”

There’s also something about this that strangely seems to amplify, something that makes it the most different from our previous sessions: I cannot see him. I cannot see the beautiful, wrenched effort on his visage, nor can I steal the moans from his lips. I cannot latch myself to his tender neck, nor can I run my fingers through his ashy locks.

It’s just the sensation of him within me. Nothing more but his powerful drives and our precious connection.

No wonder it’s so raw, so animalistic indeed.

But perhaps, not mutual.

Where I would expect Peeta to take off, to drive with reckless abandon, he instead remains...oddly consistent with his glides. They’re heavenly, and reaching, but unamplified. In fact, instead of speeding up as expected, he seemingly slows within me.

Such a turn, a difference in the usual chain of events, is enough to whip my head around. It’s my turn to furrow with confusion and concern, squinting through the intense mindfog to finally lay eyes upon him.

Which ends up being a blessing and a curse; the sight of him in such a position is almost enough to send me reeling further. Seeing him kneeling, grasping my hips, panting with reddened cheeks, and disappearing deep within...

A shiver runs up the length of my spine, exiting through my mouth as my voice just barely manages to quiver his name.

“...P-Peeta?”

“I...Um...”

It’s like we’ve switched places, what with him being apprehensive and me existing in a realm of thirst and confusion. Just as before, a cock of the brow and a building question is what spurs the opposite party into explanation.

“I’m...It’s going to sound...cheesy, okay? But I uh...It’s...Different I guess, not being able to...look at your face. Or kiss you. Or...”

He shifts himself a bit as he reaches for my face with a hand, effectively sending himself inward at a deep, torturous angle. It drives me strangely mad, my eyes rolling and my throat resonating with a squeak. It feels so foreign, to be reduced to this. And in my state, in my heightened desperation, I find myself blurting without much control.

“-Keep going.”

He freezes then, inside and out, looking upon me with widened blues. Such an expression mildly grounds me, offering a pang of guilt and a subsequent apology to follow.

“Sorry...” I wheeze, “I...I didn’t mean...If...you’re not...”

I’m a mess with my attempts to breathily stammer. But just as further guilt begins to bud, just as I fear I’ve forced him into an uncomfortable place, he gives such an unexpected and strong jerk of his hips that I yelp into the tense space.

When the shock leaves my system, when the static clears my brain, I’m able to see him beginning to smile once more, a bit more lecherous than before.

“Hmm...You know, different...might not be so bad then...”

“But-”

Again, he tortuously cuts me off, giving another strong jerk and sending me careening.

“Peeta!” I exclaim, looking at him with widened eyes, trembling legs, and a stunned soul.

“Because...” he grunts, softly squeezing and kneading my hips, “You like this, don’t you?”

He shifts then, focusing on slowly feeding himself into my depths, effectively earning a low grunt from his throat. A noise that’s quickly overpowered by my own, an open-mouthed moan as I squirm against the mattress, against his lovely torment.

“Peeta...”

“Yeah? You like it? Hmm, love?”

My eyes flash at his darkened vocals, followed by a bite of my lip to hush the rolling whimper. Something is most definitely in the air tonight. The sun surely exploded in its descent. We’ve never really been so...raw with each other, so driven and demanding.

But it seems neither of us have any qualms. Even my worry towards pressuring Peeta into an unfavorable session seems to back away, what with his ebony murmurs and expressions so evident. We seem to be re-aligning, re-joining each other on the same plane of passion.

Thus, do I desperately nod, at his complete disposal. I slide myself backwards then, easing until I’m practically touching his pelvis, panting and gritting at the extent of penetration.

“I’ve forever to kiss you..." he whispers.

Please...Please please.

I’m hardly with it enough to question the strangeness behind the newfound begging, simply squirming and existing entirely within the desperate space.

“...But not long enough to pleasure you so...”

Thus, miraculously, do any last bits of wall come tumbling down.

And I’m no longer in our bedroom. I’m within droves of ardent fire. I’m traversing the very surface of our sun. I’m in a place so foreign, a state so delightfully insane, where none have ever brought me before.

All from the sudden, strong, and intense reaches of him deep within.

Oh, how I fall apart. How I deliciously unravel. Being so pent up, so oddly starving, the hunger gorges and instantly sets me alight. Just as it screamed before, I too, find myself vocalizing with such strength.

It’s a medley, an absolutely chaotic medley of passion. Beyond my cries and his grunts, I can hear his pelvis slapping against my back side again and again. Beyond the flashes and shivers in my vision, I can see our bed hammering from the force he’s inflicting. Beyond the heat and pounding stream of blood, I can feel him hitting places so new and intense.

And it’s everything. I love him. I adore him. And I cherish the connection we have, the way we can send each other directly into the heavens. I never could have imagined. Even mere months ago, I never could have imagined.

“Gggh...Katniss!”

His deep grunt coupled with the groan of my name is enough to break me from my overwhelmed thoughts; the dig of his fingers into my hips is enough to ground me completely. I cannot escape the ungodly pleasure now. I am present, and at its full mercy.

And when a thrust hits just so, when a piece of my glass cracks and threatens to shatter, it’s no wonder that my arms fall instantly gelatinous. I cry and toss my head back, sending a rolling ebony wave before my front half descends. I desperately grip the blankets, knotting the fabric with begging grunts and whines.

But it only continues to build, and build, and build, impossibly faster and impossibly deeper. Our souls are tangled, so very tangled, dancing and intertwining and refusing to let go. Naturally, I start to ascend, faster than I ever have before. The fire licks its way up my belly, caressing my jiggling breasts and-

...No, that’s his hand, reaching beneath to knead and massage, emboldened and salacious. My eyes roll something terrible, my hips even more so, more and more of the glass chipping away. He’s snarling, almost yelling; I know he’s so close too. But somehow, just as he always has, Peeta dashes through the chaos and holds me above all.

His wandering hand suddenly juts backwards, racing down my body before fingers find their prized destination. There’s a subsequent bolt of electricity at my core, followed by a heave of tension as cracks spiderweb throughout. I’m on the cliff, on the edge, writhing and seeing it shatter before me...

“Peet-”

The final note of his name shifts into that of a divine keen, elongated and reaching as my wings outstretch. I feel like I’ve never flown so high before. It feels as if though I breach the very reaches of our atmosphere, everything whited out and flashing with a dazzling array of color.

Surely I’m screaming. Surely I’m crying out with such forceful contractions wracking my system. But I can barely breathe, barely process. There’s nothing but this. Nothing but him.

Him- somewhere below, I can hear his desperate groans. He too, yelps like he’s attempting to hold on to the Earth, to stop such a rapid ascent into space. But with a distant, cracking yell, and with another push that drives me even higher, I welcome him into my flying embrace.

I hold onto him so tightly. I fly and dance and marvel in the closeness, in the connection we share. I soar hand in hand, his softness rivaling that of the cloud we pass. Before eventually, inevitability, we must return to a realm more frequented.

I land hard. My form essentially evaporates upon impact. The moment Peeta breaks our connection, the moment he releases my hips, I fall into a heap atop the blankets. It’s no surprise that I’m shivering, nor that I’m weeping, overwhelmed to the warmest, highest degree. I remain on my stomach, limbs sprawled every which way, continuing to pant and ride through the occasional aftershocks.

When the sound of my pounding heart departs from my ears, when I become more aware of my surroundings, I can hear Peeta on the bed behind me, heavily panting all the while. Surely he’s sitting back, likely riding the same lingering effects as I.

But I need him. After almost selfishly delighting in such pleasures, I miss him. So I turn my head against the blankets, attempting to look in his direction as I reach with a hand.

“P-Peeta?”

Unsurprisingly, he understands. In mere seconds, he heaves himself beside me, flopping down atop the mattress. Though I’m utterly exhausted, and akin to jelly, I hoist myself onto my side and into his arms, our bodies as close as possible without the added element of fire.

And there, I snuggle, I caress, I kiss. I make up for the missed touches. He of course, reciprocates, the both of us tiredly offering all the affection we can muster between our shaking breaths. Soon enough, falling back into our usual patterns, we begin to smile. Then breathlessly giggle. Then speak and whisper sweet nothings through our exhausted exchanges.

“Oh...my God...Oh God...” I wheeze into one of our many kisses.

Peeta snickers a bit then, his hands beginning to softly rub circles against my bare back.

“I don’t...I don’t know what happened...what came over me...” I whisper, shying away to nestle my cheek against his.

He laughs more then, somehow managing to tug me even closer.

“Hooo, well...Whatever it was...I’m glad...I’m glad it did...”

I feel myself blushing, somewhat...shocked by the intensity of my actions. And in considering my behavior, in considering how ferocious the hunger was, it unsurprisingly reminds me of the likely sacrifice Peeta had to make in order to appease. I flush even harder, moving to hide my face against his perspiring shoulder.

“I’m sorry...” I murmur against his sweet skin.

“Hun?”

“I didn’t mean to- I mean, I didn’t...”

I of course, struggle through my words, through my explanation. I’ve never been good at saying something. But my love patiently waits, expectantly waits, continuing to softly rub me through the silence. As usual, his understanding anchors me, and I whimper the truth rather sheepishly.

“It just felt so good, Peeta...”

To my relief, he gives a hard, handsome laugh, rattling our tangled forms.

“That’s all I could ever hope for, sweetheart...” he replies with lingering chuckles, pressing his gentle lips to my dampened hair.

I sigh at the tender contact, but continue to push myself.

“Really though...I’m sorry...I didn’t...want to make you uncomfortable...”

“You didn’t.”

When I huff against his shoulder, he softly tugs me backwards, allowing our stares to connect once more.

“You didn’t, love. Clearly.” He chuckles a bit more, before falling back into his earnest tone. “Like I said, it was just...different, that’s all. I marvel in your beauty, you know.”

When I scowl at him, at the compliment, he grins even wider.

“And yes, I’m used to seeing your face in this. But thankfully, every inch of you happens to be stunning.”

“Peeta...” I groan, feeling my cheeks flush something terrible beneath his onslaught of tender eloquence. Once more, he laughs, before leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

“I just got to address the less...frequented places,” he continues with a smirk, “Which after tonight, won’t stay that way for long, I’m sure.”

I huff, which again, earns another snicker coupled with a kiss. When we break away however, I find myself staring into those sparkling, warm blues. His expression shifts into something more gentle, more awed, surely catching the earnestness behind my stare. My hands reach up to cup his face, stroking my thumbs against his scarred yet softened skin.

“I did miss this, you know...” I whisper, topping my words off with a kiss to his nose.

“Well, I did say we have forever,” he replies with a growing, crooked grin.

“That’s not long enough for this either...”

I pull him into perhaps the softest, tenderest kiss of the night, one more fitting for the day than the dusk. It’s one I pour all my adoration into, of course having to verbally proclaim it all the same.

“I love you so much...” I murmur against his lips.

Once more, the connection breaks from the strength of his smile, delightfully warming body and soul before the sentiments are returned.

“And I love you...”

There we remain for numerous comfortable beats, continuing to lazily kiss and caress until the last of the sunlight disappears from the night sky. I find myself contemplating what lead to such an explosion, what lead to my desire firing off to such an extreme degree. Of course Peeta would be on the same wavelength, though the grinning question that breaks the silence gets me laughing and shoving his chest.

“You don’t...happen to have further tricks up your sleeve, do you?”

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delta-for-change · 4 years

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August

Many think August is the start of Autumn, of cold whispers and haunted dreams, but they are wrong. August is the month of boldness. It’s the time when the sun beats down the hottest, when ocean waves are the strongest, and when winds are the most chaotic. This is the month where change is decided, where the old gods are separated from the new.

So, July was... okay. Some things worked out, some didn’t. I struggled most at the end of the month as well as when outside forces were mentally draining me. More importantly, I’ve finally gotten access to a scale and discovered I’m actually 10lbs heavier than I thought. Thus, to factor for all of the above information, I’ve made a better, stricter plan; my goals have changed to better suit my needs. Heavy Trigger Warning. This is going to be long.

Before I list out my truth for this month, the ‘you’ I reference throughout the post is ‘me/I.’ These are some of the goals I have for the month, and they are not meant to pertain to anyone else. Please do not follow my diet plan as it is not made for you. If you’d ever like to talk, feel free to send an ask or a DM my way. Recovery is the best option.

STATS: → Height: 5′1 → CW: 140.4lbs/63kg → BMI: 26.5 By AUGUST 31st... ✩ CW: 131lbs/59kg ✩ BMI: 24.7 I hope to lose 9lbs this month, putting me back to what I thought my SW was. I will also once again be under 60kg w a healthy BMI range rather than overweight.

ROUTINE: ⚇ Morning Routine ⚇ Daily Planning ⚇ Exercise ☉ Productivity towards house ☉ Productivity towards application ⚉ Shower ⚉ Read ⚉ Night Routine WEIGHT LOSS: ⇥ Daily kcal limit: 1000 ((7,000 per week. 31,000 total)) ⇥ This means no more binge/cheat days. Those don’t work for you. You use them as an excuse to go ham in your kitchen which makes you take two steps back and negatively impacts your mental health. If you overeat one day, account for it - you know it won’t ruin your progress. Just be aware. ⇥ Speaking of being aware, track every day. Tracking will help you understand yourself and your body better. ⇥ Try the One Bite Method. All you need is one bite to satiate yourself. You’re not craving any food; you’re craving that big boost of serotonin - that disappears after the first bite. So, if you want ice cream, don’t make yourself a bowl, make yourself a spoonful. ⇥ Fast +24hrs, minimum once a week. ⇥ Before your first bite of the day, you must drink a full bottle (16.9 fl oz) of water. Water is going to help with your skin, help you wake up, and give you a feeling of fullness before breakfast. ⇥ Do not eat after 10pm. ⇥ If you’re tired and it’s past 11pm, go to sleep - don’t snack. ⇥ High protein, low carb, medium fat. Yes, this will be difficult, but you can do it. The most important thing to focus on is the protein - aim for >60g a day, or >50%. Carbs should be <20g. Fats aim for >30g per day. ⇥ To follow through with this diet, absolutely no refined sugar. In fact, keep your sugar intake low (fruits are fine). ⇥ Your plates must not only look appetizing but also have a good balance. Thus, you must eat one (1) fruit or one (1) veggie per meal. Yes, this also means you have to account for more calories. ⇥ Avoid oil, added fats, and butters. Never use to cook, only flavor. ⇥ Never eat while making yourself food. If you need to taste-test something, do so, but don’t overdo yourself - and don’t forget to track those calories, infinitesimal as they may be. ⇥ Never go back for seconds. ⇥ Drink +2L water daily. ⇥ Exercise Daily. This can be any sort of activity that gets your blood moving, including walking, running, dancing, stretching, workout routines, yoga, etc. On days you fast, heavy workouts are not necessary, but you still must remain active in some way. ⇥ Finally, eat because you must, not because you want. Never eat when bored, only eat when hungry. You can control your cravings. You can control what and when you eat. All you need to do is remain consistent and vigilant.

BUSINESS: ⇥ Always have a To Do list for the day; always have a plan, and always plan to be productive. ⇥ Use the “touch it once” approach. If you have something to do, just sit down and do it. Squash it and be done. Don’t procrastinate. ⇥ Be friendly and outgoing towards your coworkers. I know it’s scary and difficult, but nobody is judging you except yourself. Being kind and extroverted will only benefit you. ⇥ Read min. 30min per day. Instead of scrolling through your phone before bed, open a book. Try to read two books or more this month. ⇥ Study min. 1hr per day. This can be anything, but ideally it is prep. ⇥ Give everyone, including yourself, the best ‘impression’ you can give.

If I follow through with my above rules, I should easily reach 131lbs by the end of the month. I’m already so distraught over how heavy I actually am and how much more difficult it will be to achieve my goals. I must get there, and I’m running out of time. There are only 146 days until Christmas. 20 weeks. 304 days until June 1st 2021. 43 weeks. No time. I must get there. I will get there. I will be the greatest version of myself I can be. Now, by the end of August, I will have: ✪ Reached 131lbs ✪ Finished all college-due assignments and prepared ahead ✪ Fasted +24hrs four times (totaling >96hrs) ✪ Followed all of my above rules to the best of my abilities ✪ Read 5 books ✪ Brought joy and camaraderie within my communities ✪ Improved myself.

If I do not complete the above, I will have failed both my friends, family, and coworkers, my future life, and, most importantly, I will have failed myself. Therefore, I have no intentions of failing. If I cannot do this- the bare minimum- I cannot do anything. REMEMBER... ❂ Always apply yourself. Manifest your goals. If you don’t wake up with determination in your heart and strength in your soul, your goals will never come to fruition. ❂ This period of time is of growth. Your happiness is the most important thing. ❂ Improve yourself every day. Don’t worry so much about giving a bad impression, just do everything you can to the best of your abilities. ❂ Above all, care for your soul. Without it, your physical being has no meaning. Your soul drives you; keep it sacred. And remember, the pain you feel today will be the strength you feel tomorrow.

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diddlesanddoodles · 3 years

Text

DUMPLING ch 60

The trees were shapeless shadows against the night as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Blood pumped hard in her ears, and even with her gasping breaths, she could still hear them coming for her. Beneath her feet, she could feel their heavy footfalls as they crashed into the earth, and it was as though the very ground vibrated. Seven of her steps to one of their own, and even at a slower pace, their wider strides more than made up for the difference.

Her saving grace was the narrow gaps between the ancient trees. Additionally, her pursuers were just as hindered by the dark as she was. If she used her fire, she would reveal herself and her advantage would be lost. As it stood, she was not in a good position to face off against a large group of bloodthirsty giants.

She was lucky before, she doubted any chance at a repeat performance. The others had not expected their fellow to fall as easily as he did.

As Thrist fled with Jae, Nenani had turned to face the marauding group that attacked them and left Andy dead. The giant with the dagger had rushed her. His enormous frame had been cast in deep shadows against the stark white of her flames. He barreled towards her, dagger raised and shining. The blade was nearly as long as she was tall, glittering with the white and blue of her fire.

Nenani ran to one of the closer trees, whipping a vine back and upward towards the giant as he drew closer. Instinct rather than real calculation drove her. But it had been a lucky strike, with the end of her vine catching the edge of the giant’s jaw just as he passed. It curled around the back of his neck, and the thorns snagged into his flesh and began to slice as the vine pulled taught. The whites of his eyes grew large as he fell forward, dropping his dagger to reach for his neck as he fell. Nenani made it to the shelter of the tree just as he slammed into the earth, and the shock of it nearly threw her off her feet.

But Nenani did not bother to look back to gauge how devastating her hit had been. Instead, she ran onward, using his fellows’ momentary confusion and shock to her advantage. She had the barest head start before they began to follow after her. The height of their hubris was diminished, but not altogether extinguished.

And now they were angry.

“I thought you said you knew how to fight fire mages!” demanded one of them.

“I do!” snapped someone else. “Killed three during the war, but I never saw one do anything like that!”

“Then what fucking good are you?”

“Just shut up! New magic or not, it’s a damn child!”

“Go tell that to Baeu!”

“Sooner rather than later the little bitch is gonna lose steam,” snarled another giant. “And when we do catch her, I’m gonna pull each of her fucking limbs off one by one. And then peel her skin off.”

……………….

She was growing tired and slow, with her legs becoming clunky and dumb with fatigue. She found herself tripping over small twigs and mud holes until at last, she had to stop. Her lungs were on fire, and no amount of air seemed enough to satisfy them. Nenani huddled miserably under the heavy brush of a bush at the base of a small cluster of yearling trees. Their leaves were still thick and green, but their points were hard and thorn-like, gripping at her hair and dress and stabbing her hands and legs as she scrambled into them to hide.

The giants were moving as one group rather than splitting up, and their enraged prattling had not ceased. Nenani waited quietly under the prickly bush until she could breathe evenly again to move to another hiding spot.

Several times she dove for the cover of a bush and waited for them to move on before running back the direction she had come, just to try and throw them off her trail. Then the giants’ voices began to draw closer again.

In the dark, Nenani moved slowly in the other direction but continued to eye the brush and trees behind her. She was sure that any moment they would come into view and spot her and the chase would begin anew. But if she could keep her steps slow, perhaps they would not hear her at all and she could put more distance between them without having to kill anyone else.

The fleeting moment of power she had felt earlier in the day now tasted putrid and bitter.

A hand slipped through the dark to rest upon her shoulder. Nenani started, nearly leaping clear out of her skin as she whirled around, arms erupting into orange flames. There stood a human boy with short cut hair and grayish-green garb regarding her and her flames with a dour expression. It took her only a moment to recognize him as the boy in the tree who they had come across earlier.

The one who said she smelled like fire.

“Oh,” Nenani said, her flames dying away. “It’s you...”

“Come with me,” he whispered. The hand resting on her shoulder gripped hard, and he bodily steered her forward. She went without a fight, more out of bewilderment than anything, and by the time she came back to her senses enough to ask him anything, they were a good distance away.

“Where did you—” she began.

“Say nothing,” he warned in a harsh whisper. “Just keep moving. The tree with the hollow there. Go to it. Inside. Hide there.”

“I can’t see very well. And there are giants...”

“They won’t find you,” he said shortly and pushed her along at a quicker pace. She could see the dim outline of a large ironwood tree, the base of it wide and dark. When they got closer, Nenani could see better that the dark area was actually the hollow itself. She felt a hard push between her shoulders and fell forward. Gracelessly, she tumbled into the patch of wet leaves and muck, grimacing as her hands fell upon the slimy debris. Turning back to the boy, she opened her mouth to berate him, but he silenced her with a hand. With his other, he traced along the edges of the hallow, and a thin iridescent sheen fell across the opening. Through it, she could see the world beyond in better light. “No one will see you if I do not wish for them to. So long as you stay inside there, the charm will shade you from prying eyes.”

Nenani took a moment to watch the swirling colors, reminded of how light and colors danced across the surface of a soap bubble. She turned her eyes to the boy.

“Are you helping me?” she asked. “Why?”

“You are a walking wildfire,” he told her.

She blinked at him and frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“Left alone, you will burn my forest to the ground. I would fail in my duties to not stop that from happening,” he explained bitterly. He studied her for several moments and the severity of his expression softened. “But I also see a little of the Green Mother in you. It is very small, but it is there. Like that little boy who ate the ironwood sap. But your fire is far more a part of you than the green. Strange oddity, you are. You must have uncommon parentage.”

Though Nenani knew she should feel offended by the way he said ‘uncommon parentage’, she decided to ignore his tone.

“Our father,” Nenani answered. “He was Thorn.”

The boy gave a small nod in understanding, regarding her again with an enigmatic expression.

“I have knowledge of them. Lost cousins, we call them. So that makes us distant cousins as well I suppose,” he said at last, a spark of amusement in his eyes. He knelt down to her level. “I have never seen fire and earth merged into one being. Your magic was a wonder to behold, cousin. But there is a great imbalance in you.”

“Imbalance?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“One side is pulling you to fire. Anger and fear and destruction. Revenge and blood. The other pulls you towards the Green Mother. Kindness and love and healing. Protection and trust.”

Nenani bit hard into her lip, his words ringing truth loudly in her head.

“Do not feed the fire so willingly,” he warned. “Fire is power, yes. But it is also unwieldy and short-lived if not tended and nurtured properly. Fire is a forever hungry beast, and no matter how much you feed it, it will never be satiated. It will take all of you until you have nothing left to give. You are on a path of destruction. Your fire will consume you if you allow it.”

Nenani looked down at her hands, just barely visible in the dark. “I need to be strong. I have to save my friends. My family. I can’t just do nothing. The...the giant who rules this place...the lord here. He is an evil man. The people you put in your gardens. That is his doing. They escaped his prisons. And there are others. Many.”

The boy regarded her for a long moment. “It is not my place to interfere with the affairs of outsiders. My priority is the safety of my people and the preservation of my forest. But this false lord concerns me greatly. There are giants all over my forest tonight. Fighting one another. Killing one another. I cannot breathe without smelling their blood, and I very much wish for them all to be gone.”

Nenani got to her knees and crawled closer to the barrier.

“Lord Colem came to help us,” Nenani explained. “He wants to bring Lord Brennan to justice. If we can do that, your forest will be yours again and we can rescue the people he has prisoner. My friends are already trying to free them. Could you help? You can do magic too. You’re a mage like me. Could you help us?”

“I cannot promise you anything,” the boy said, rising back to his feet and stepping back. “But we will make sure this forest is protected. When the spell drops away, it means you are safe to leave the hallow. Until then, stay inside. Regain your strength.”

“I can’t just sit here,” she replied. She pushed a hand towards the shimmering veil, but as he fingers brushed against it, her hand stopped as though pressing against glass. “What?”

“You should practice patience,” he suggested. “When the danger has been dealt with, the spell will fade.”

“No!” she snapped and began to bang her hands against the barrier. “Let me out!”

The boy tapped it with a finger. “You are a child who has wandered too far from her minders. You want to fight a foe as tall as the ironwoods who would snap you into bloody little splinters.”

“I’ve already killed two of them,” she shot back. “I’m not weak. I just need rest.”

“And I am giving it to you.”

“Not like this!”

“Do not mistake brutality for strength,” he quipped. “Stay here. Rest.”

“Fine!” she said. “But please! My friends are at the big house trying to save the humans there. If you can help them, please do it.”

“I will do what I must,” the boy said after a pause. “But I make no promises.”

As he turned to leave, Nenani called out. “Wait! One more thing. What’s your name?”

The boy tilted his head around just enough that she could see one green eye. “Ezra. And you, cousin?”

“I’m Nenani,” she replied.

“Like the river,” he said, the ghost of a smile creeping along his jawline. “I will leave you to rest, cousin Nenani. And heed my words about the fire.”

With great reluctance, she looked around her and at last nodded, giving into her fatigue. “Thank you, Ezra.”

With a nod, Ezra ran to a tree and scaled up the trunk as fast and as agile as a squirrel before disappearing into the branches above. She did as Ezra had instructed her to do and waited. For what seemed like hours, she waited, and as a deeper night fell upon the forest, Nenani found the pull of sleep pulling at her more and more.

It was not until she awoke to find the first whispers of dawn brightening the sky that she realized she had fallen asleep. For the briefest of moments, she did not know where she was and thought she was back in Vhasshal. But her chilled skin pulled her back to reality with a sickening crash.

The barrier was gone and the early morning quiet. Set just outside was a bright orange leaf, and set atop it was a pile of shriveled dark things. Picking one up to examine it, Nenani realized they were dried berries. She ate them quickly and with abject relish. Only after the fact did she realize it was probably not a very wise thing for her to eat random berries.

But if Ezra wanted to kill her, he was going about it in a very roundabout way. After she had finished her meager breakfast, she crawled out from the hollow and began to walk. She let her instincts guide her but still kept her eyes and ears open for any signs or sounds of giants. After a half hour, she came upon the first of them.

The vines had no thorns, but they were as thick as ropes and of such a deep green they almost appeared black. They snaked up from the ground in great numbers, wrapping around one foot and up the leg, squeezing hard against the body. They wound across the chest and under the arms, around each bicep, down to the wrists. Wrapped tightly around the neck, Nenani did not have to wonder what it was that had ultimately done the giant in. His lips were blue and his tongue swelled out from his mouth.

The giant was entangled with the vines against a large ironwood much in the same way the humans they had found had been. But instead of being preserved in a peaceful forever sleep, the giant’s remains were more akin to a warning than anything else. She did not linger.

After a few minutes' walk, Nenani came across another much in the same state and two more close by. As she studied the last one’s face, she marveled how someone who looked so human could behave like such a monster. Lost in her own musings, she did not hear the approaching footsteps. It was not till she heard the soft squish of damp leaves that Nenani turned to face the sound. Above her she saw the mouth of a large bag descending upon her, and then all at once, everything went dark. The walls pressed in as large hands gathered her and the bag up and into the air. She flailed and kicked at the fingers that held her and cried out.

“Easy there, little thing,” said a voice. “It’s dangerous out here all alone – OW!”

The rough spun fabric was dry and brittle and caught flames in mere seconds. The owner of the giant hands at the very least had the presence of mind to not immediately drop the flaming bag and instead quickly sat the whole bundle down very quickly.

The vertigo sent Nenani’s head spinning and she was tangled up in the charred remnants as she desperately swatted and pushed her way free. Arms still aflame, she scrambled to her feet and looked up to see an unfamiliar giant. Balls of fire materialized in her palms, but the giant was already putting a good bit of distance between her and himself.

“Gods above!” he squawked, nursing his singed fingertips and staring in open shock and fear at Nenani. “Why did you do that? I was just trying to help you! I didn’t mean no harm!”

Nenani glared. “Liar. You’re trying to capture me!”

The giant’s shock was rotating towards incredulity. “You could have said you were a fire mage!”

Nenani returned his incredulous look. “Who are you?”

“I’m the fella you just burned!” he snapped.

“Do better than that,” she snapped back. “Or I’ll do worse. So who are you? What do you want?”

The giant made a face and took several large steps back. “Captain told me to do a sweep for any stragglers and that’s what I’m doing. Cripes and crackers, I think you burned my finger prints off!”

Nenani paused. “Wait. Stragglers? What sort of stragglers?”

“Human stragglers!” he replied. He wasn’t even looking at Nenani anymore, seeming far too preoccupied with assessing the damage to his fingers. He stuck one in his mouth, wincing. “A few got lost in all the chaos of last night and we’re looking for them. I thought you were one, but clearly you’re…wait.”

The giant’s eyes widened and he turned them back to Nenani, seeing her in a new light. He pulled his hurt finger from his mouth. “You...you’re a fire mage.”

Nenani raised an eyebrow and looked pointed at the still flaming balls in her palms.

“I mean,” he continued. “That means…uh, well. You aren’t...the Princess by any chance, are you?”

Nenani eyed him more seriously. “Are you with Lord Colem’s men?”

The giant nodded. “I am.”

Nenani slowly lowered her hands. “Uh, then yes. I am. The princess I mean. Nenani. My name is Nenani.”

“But...I thought the rangers took you and the prince to safety already?” he asked. “What happened?”

“We were attacked. One of the rangers, Andy, he was killed,” she explained. “I told Thrist to get Jae to safety.”

The giant regarded her as though he thought very little of her actions. “Why didn’t you just go with him?”

“I could fend the attackers off better than Thrist could,” she answered.

The giant looked down at his fingers and back at her before his eyes drifted over to one of the dead giants still strung up in Ezra’s vines. “You...you did that then?”

“No,” she replied. “That was someone else.”

The giant shook his head in disbelief and ran a hand down his face. “Well, all that doesn't matter much right now. I need to get you back to camp and be quick about it. Our scouts reported earlier last night that the line we pushed back was a distraction and two more are sweeping in on our weaker side. Probably gonna try and take manor back. Colem won’t give it up easily.”

Nenani perked up. If they had taken the manor then surely Farris and Keral’s mission would have been successful. “Do you know if they were able to get the humans out? The ones down in the kitchens?”

“Most of them were moved last night,” the giant explained. “A lot of them aren’t too keen on us though, and a few ran off the moment they were free. I was to do a sweep to try and find them before Brennan’s men come through.”

Relief swept over her and she broke into a smile. “I’m glad,” she said quietly. “They did it then...”

He regarded Nenani cautiously and held his hands up. “Now, if you promise not to burst into flames, I can escort you back to the camp. As I was saying, those bastards are supposed to be coming through this way soon. I’d imagine these fellows all strung up were a scouting party.”

Nenani opened her mouth to answer when a rustling of foliage overhead drew both their gazes upwards. Pressed between the branches, Nenani spotted green gray garb and the now-familiar face of Ezra. He looked ragged and tired, and there were several rips along his sleeves.

“They are coming,” he said. “Many. We tried to slow their march, but we do not have the numbers. My people have moved away for their safety.”

“What the...” said the giant, squinting up at the human. “Who are…?”

“How close are they?” Nenani asked with renewed anxiety. “Ezra?”

The boy looked down at her with a defeated expression. “They will be upon you soon. You must flee from here, cousin. I am sorry. I did all we could.”

Before she could ask anything else, her ears pricked up as they caught a strange sound on the wind. Like a strong gale pushing trees. Her feet could feel the faint vibrations of many moving feet. An army on the march.

Ezra looked off behind them and sneered before turning back to Nenani. “Leave now!”

BONUS ART

#Dumpling #G/T #giant tiny #fantasy giant #magic #Nenani #Ezra #tw death #tw blood

28 notes · View notes

kalosophia · 3 years

Photo

The Alphaeus — Chapter 3

SOC. Thank you, I will. For it appears to me and to anyone who knows you but a little, that you have in your life acquired some ample wealth, at least sufficient to satisfy your desire for it. Is this a fair statement, Alphaeus?

ALP. It is as fair as it is true.

SOC. And would you say that this attainment of sufficient wealth has resulted in your condition of being happy?

ALP. I would say this, as it is also as fair as it is true.

SOC. But do you think that if you were to increase this wealth that your happiness would increase likewise?

ALP. I have already stated that I have sufficient, and that I have satisfied my desire for wealth, and that I am happy with what I have acquired; so that I do not desire more, and care not whether it may add any small increment to my happiness – for I am content, Socrates.

SOC. It maybe that you are, Alphaeus, and in that case I commend you; but consider this.

ALP. What is it that you bid me to consider now?

SOC. To what degree your happiness is dependent upon the preservation and maintenance of your wealth.

ALP. That is an unworthy consideration, Socrates; and you would be wise, Telamon, to dismiss it along with me. For I am happy, both in myself and with what I have acquired, and this no sane person can deny.

SOC. Strenuously asserted, my friend; but if I frame the consideration within a question, perhaps it will appear more palatable. Do you consider that your happiness, in this respect, is dependent upon the preservation and maintenance of your wealth?

ALP. Your question is no more palatable than it was in its previous disguise.

SOC. But it is a maskless question, and only requires some appropriate reply.

ALP. Then I reply that my happiness will be but little or not at all affected by some limited lessening of my wealth.

SOC. And if the lessening of your wealth is considerable, and very much so, would this have any effect at all upon whether you are happy or otherwise?

ALP. As this will never happen I can make no intelligent reply. For what is not possible is hardly worth contemplating.

SOC. Yet even with the great, this type of occurrence has proved possible, so imagine, if you can, this very considerable reduction of your wealth, and what effect upon your happiness may be produced.

ALP. You are impertinent, Socrates, and dominated by envy, thinking only the poor, such as yourself, can be happy; though this happiness is without choice or effort, and is clung on to like a crack in a cliff-face.

SOC. Is the mere thought of such a reduction in your means sufficient to produce some effect?

ALP. It is not the thought that is affecting me, it is you, and your dog-like gnawing at old bones.

SOC. Forgive me, Alphaeus, for the hungry love to gnaw. But, if you will, let us leave behind the subject of wealth, and consider some other of those few desires of man, and which you say that you have satisfied. What then of your health, and your happiness regarding its condition? In a similar manner, would you say that a considerable reduction in your good health would have any effect upon your happiness? Or do you say that this also is not possible, and, therefore, not worthy of consideration?

ALP. With the wealth that I possess, I shall be able to mitigate any bad effects of ill-health, in as much as it is possible; and the rest I shall bear as contingencies of life. Hence my happiness will be but little disturbed, save as it is for any man facing his expiry from this life.

SOC. But what, then, do you say now to this? How would the happiness of any man be affected if he is reduced to poverty, his health has failed, his power has no influence, his family disowns him for failing in his duties, and his good reputation has been turned upside down, and he is known only as poor, sick, powerless and alone? Do you still say that you would be happy, when all these desires, having been fulfilled, are then become unsatisfied and raw?

ALP. Fie on you, Socrates! What man could remain happy if all these things were removed, or whose desires were never satisfied in the first place?

SOC. What man, indeed, Alphaeus? But I have spoken of extremes, and it may be that the middle ground is safest. Suppose we find the man that has sufficient wealth for his needs, together with sufficient good-health, and power, and good family, and a good reputation though it be not broad or well known; is this the man, then, who is truly happy? And though he should lead a quiet life, and disturb none, and be a friend to many, will he thus be truly happy? Or will his happiness also be at risk, from the decrease or increase in his satisfaction of those universal desires you have nominated?

ALP. This man would be happy in his own manner, and to the degree that his desires have been fulfilled; and this is the same as I said at the first, before you began your minute dissection.

SOC. But were he to verge to one extreme or the other, would his happiness be altered accordingly?

ALP. That it may be, for these desires unsatisfied lead to unhappiness, and satisfied to the desired degree will produce happiness.

SOC. Then do you now say, that the desire to satisfy these desires to a desired degree is the pathway that leads to true happiness?

ALP. I do.

SOC. But what, if each of these desires is unfulfilled, is it then possible for a man to be happy?

ALP. This would truly be a sad man, Socrates, who cannot satisfy his desires at all; and in him that natural desire to be happy would be all but impotent.

SOC. That may well be, Alphaeus, but at this point we cannot be certain.

ALP. But we can, Socrates, we can! For where will you find the man who does not desire wealth, and power, and health and family and reputation? Can we find him anywhere, or is it only you?

SOC. As I am still unsure of what true happiness consists, and how it may be attained, whether I have these desires or not, or to what degree they are useful or otherwise to this attainment is but of little value. Yet come, Alphaeus, and see if we can summarize what you say and teach. Is it that the desires of men are few in number, and are capable of being satiated and satisfied for so long as they are being fulfilled; and that the more they are fulfilled the happier that man will be, and that the less these same desires are fulfilled the happiness will be proportionately less? Is this what you propose to us all?

ALP. It is.

SOC. And that true happiness is only true for so long and in so much as these desires are fulfilled and satiated?

ALP. Again, I do say so.

SOC. But is not something that is true always true? Or will it only be true sometimes and for some periods?

ALP. You tell me, sagacious Socrates.

SOC. I will, as it appears to me, and that if something is sometimes true it is also sometimes not true; but if something is simply true it will always be that which it is.

ALP. And so what now? Where is this leading?

SOC. It is leading to the distinction between apparent and true happiness; and that the former appears and does not appear, but the latter simply is what it is. And further, that it is the path to the former which you sell and teach, but not the path to the latter.

ALP. It is ever your way to bring those down who possess more of anything than you, I well know this; and I not only teach the way to happiness, but also how it may be attained, maintained and retained, and it is true and happiness and true happiness – nothing more or less, and that is an end to it!

SOC. It is well, Alphaeus, that you are sure of what you do. But, if you would indulge me, please answer me one or two more questions.

ALP. I will do so if the time allows. What say you, Telamon? Shall we stay a while longer?

TEL. I do not know quite what to say at this moment, for this conversation is now resounding in my mind. But yes, Alphaeus, it would be good to stay for a little more time.

ALP. Then we will, Telamon, for your sake if not for mine. What is it then, Socrates, that you now wish to ask?

SOC. Only this, in the first place; would you say that there is a limit to what any man may desire?

ALP. Yes, there is; and it is the limit that a man imposes according to his ambition.

SOC. But that in itself, the desire will not naturally limit itself, but will desire to add to or supplant that which it has already successfully obtained?

ALP. That is probably so, Socrates,

SOC. And is it probable that the more a desire desires, and the more it obtains what it desires, that it will thus become stronger and more powerful?

ALP. That, too, is probable.

SOC. What then, is it that the more powerful and stronger the desire becomes, the more difficult will it be for anyone to impose a limit upon it?

ALP. That is so.

SOC. And do you teach each of your followers what is the appropriate limit for their desires?

ALP. I do not, for that would be presumptuous and meddling.

SOC. Then do they set their own boundaries according to their ambitions, and in so far as their desires are still capable of being limited?

ALP. They do.

SOC. But you do not teach how desires may be limited, whether gentle, or vehement, or greatly powerful?

ALP. I do not, and I know not of anyone who does.

SOC. That may well be so, Alphaeus; but you are in danger of releasing a certain Ate’s dragon for yourself, for your followers and for us all.

ALP. I know exactly what I am doing, Socrates, and you would do well to remember that in the coming weeks. But what is this creature of which you now speak, and have brought in from some obscure place?

SOC. It is a tale from an island very much west of here, and one that I heard early in my youth; but to tell it may take more time than you will allow.

TEL. Time is not yet pressing, Socrates, so please relate this tale if it has any bearing on this invigorating discussion.

SOC. And you, Alphaeus, is this your wish also?

ALP. If Telamon wishes to hear this story, I will wait patiently along with him.

(to be continued)

— Guy

#Release Thyself #The Alphaeus #Ancient Greece #Philosophy #Telamon #Alphaeus #Guy #Happiness #Human #Socrates

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

Text

Fairy Tales for the Fallen

Other Tales: The Very Hungry Beetle, How the Arrogant Peacock Lost His Feathers, The Tongue-Cut Crow, The Little Scorpion, Others Coming Soon

HER NAME WAS THOUSAND-EYES

Once upon a time, there lived a wretched, unwanted child.

Oh, but who could blame his father? The child was borne of his father’s hatred and rage! The child was so unsightly that not even the beasts would have loved him, for his body was of the strangest, most curious shape. This child had bones the color of soot, which you could see through the dark, writhing mass of blazing flesh, and his head was shaped much like that of a some horrid hound. He nearly looked as if he had two faces, for his visage split open in the center whenever he feasted or smiled, and it was only after much disgust by his father that he stopped smiling. Worst of all were the twisted, pitch-black pair of horns that sprouted from his skull. It was this that forever reminded his father of the circumstances of his birth, and it was this that the wretched child would come to truly detest about his form. The child would do everything he could to wrench the offending things off, pulling and pulling with all his might – but it was of no use. The horns were as much a part of him as his bones.

Would you like to go to school? asked his father one day, peering over the desk. The wretched child looked up at his father with both surprise and curiosity, for his father never spoke to him first. His father only sighed. It is time you learned more about the world, said he. There are many more like you at school.

The wretched child did not know what school was, nor did he know why his father had asked, but he was so overjoyed that his father had spoken to him that he said, Yes, yes, I would! Thank you very much.

His father did not answer. There was only the scrawling of his quill against the parchment and the popping of the suet of the candle. It did not matter: he would be able to go to school! He would meet many more like him, and oh, no longer would he be so lonely! He would make many friends, so many that his father would not be able to count them. His father would come and see how well he was liked in this new place called school, and perhaps … perhaps he would come to like him as well, one day.

So the wretched child did his best to be especially good for the rest of the day. He ate dinner with his brothers without making a fuss, combed his own hair, and even went to bed without asking any of his brothers to read from one of his picture books. He dreamt of many wonderful things that night, imagining all that could happen at this place called school, and he slept quite soundly.

The next day, his eldest brother walked him to school. He did his best not to skip the entire way, excited as he was, but even he could not help himself. Lucky for him, his eldest brother was in a good mood that day -- and in moments they began to race all the way to the front gates, the child laughing with glee. His eldest brother bade him good-by, and the child turned to face what lay within.

His father had lied.

The school was filled with children who looked like his brothers, not him. Some of these children had horns, yes, some of them even bearing a few tails or extra eyes or other oddities, but none were as monstrous as he. None possessed that terrible hound’s head or the strange, writhing flesh. None possessed sunken, blazing eyes or a maw that dripped with green flame. Other than the odd pairs of horns, none possessed the features that had led his father to hate him.

The school children, as if sensing a monster within their midst, steered clear of the wretched child. The child spent his first day at school alone, just as he always had at home.

And so came many lonely, long days at school. His teacher took pity on him and gave him many books to read, satiating only a bit of his curiosity, but not even she could stand to look at the wretched creature for very long. So she went away, and he was alone again.

One day, a girl with many eyes went and stood before him.

She blinked one eye. The other thousand followed. The wretched child could only stare at her as she asked, And what might you be?

The wretched child did not speak, so surprised was he that another had chosen to speak to him. The many-eyed girl stamped her foot and huffed at his silence, and once more she asked.

The wretched child blinked. Me?

Yes, you! The many-eyed girl made a very dramatic, sweeping gesture. Have you no ears? Answer me now, or I shall be very cross with you!

The wretched child did not speak for a moment, for not even he was sure of the answer. His father had told him that he came from him, you see, but not once did his father explain exactly what he was. But the girl in front of him had asked a question, he mused, so there must be some uncertainty regarding it. If she had asked, that meant he was much different from the other school children. What did that make him?

I am Thousand-Eyes, said the girl. She stuck her hand out to him, giving him an expectant look, and he took it. The girl shook it with vigor. My mother says she should have named me Thousand-One, or Thousand-and-One, or maybe even Too-Many, but they didn’t have enough time to count all of them. Tell me your name.

The wretched child began, I am --

And then he stopped. His father had never given him a name, he realized. What was his name?

It is very nice to meet you, I Am! The girl nodded quite solemnly, for the act of making friends is very serious for little children. Now we know each other! I hereby declare that we are friends from this day forward. Have you got any problem with that, I Am?

He did not.

And so Thousand-Eyes and the wretched child were inseparable from that day forward. Wherever Thousand-Eyes went, the wretched child followed. Whatever Thousand-Eyes did, the child did as well. Thousand-Eyes made up very many games for them to play, and their afternoons became filled with joy and laughter. The wretched child told Thousand-Eyes of the wonderful things he had learned in books, and Thousand-Eyes listened with rapt attention.

Will I ever go there someday? asked Thousand-Eyes, staring dreamily into the sunless sky.

Go where? he echoed.

Why, to the surface, of course! Thousand-Eyes stood to full height, which was not very tall at all, and perched herself upon the rock as if she were the queen of the world. The lights of the city lay before them, shining like beacons in the endless darkness. Mother says she has been there only a few times, but she has told me so little of her travels that I can only imagine what it is truly like! What if humans have streets paved with gold? What if honey cakes and roasted hazelnuts burst out from the flowers? Oh, how I wish to know!

The child had a sudden idea. Insidious as it was and secretive it would have to be, the child thought it was a very good idea indeed. He clasped one of his friend’s hands in his own claws and spoke the idea into her ear. Thousand-Eyes mulled over the idea for a moment, dumbstruck, for she had never even thought of this idea before.

Your father would be very cross with you, said Thousand-Eyes. I do not care if Mother scolds me when I return, but I do not want you to be needlessly punished. Are you sure?

Of course I am, lied the child. He only wanted to bring Thousand-Eyes as much happiness as she had given unto him. And we will not be gone for very long. I will ask my brother to look for us if we do not return by dusk.

When he returned home, the child pulled his eldest brother aside after dinner to discuss the matter with him. His eldest brother, who was normally a brash, loud creature, regarded the child for the first time with worry.

His eldest brother frowned, his blue eyes seeming to pierce through the child. You’d best stay down here where it’s safe. The angels will hunt and eat you alive, child. It is much too soon after the war.

But it’s only once! begged the child, his dark, shadowy flesh beginning to writhe around his horns. I only ask that you look for us if we are not back by dusk, brother.

I cannot allow you to do so.

Even if I bring you back a silver coin? The child did his best to flatten his writhing shadows of flesh as much as possible, quieting the verdant flame within. Even if I pay you in as much human silver as I can?

* * *

The next day, right after school hours had finished, the child took Thousand-Eyes through the portal and to the surface, where the humans dwelled. She blinked her many eyes in the sunlight, for demons are not used to the brightness -- and then she gazed at the scene around her with awe. The child could not help but smile at the exultation that had made itself clear on his dear friend’s visage. Thousand-Eyes began to run down the field of wildflowers, nearly tumbling down the hill as she did so, and stopped at a particularly colorful patch of flora. The child chased after her.

How wonderful! she cried, taking one of them into her hands. She held it out to the child with glee. Oh, everything is just as beautiful as I had ever imagined! What might this be, do you think?

The child brought it up to his snout and sniffed it. It’s sweet, so it must be honeysuckle, he said. I believe it is safe to --

Before the child could stop her, Thousand-Eyes plucked it from his claws and tossed it into her mouth, chewing it once before swallowing. Her eyes lit up with delight, much to the child’s surprise. She began to reach for another, but the child stopped her with a clawed hand. Thousand-Eyes watched the child as he took another delicately with his claws, brought it to his maw, and drank the nectar. Thousand-Eyes looked upon the act with wonder, and then she copied it. Once more, her expression showed nothing but joy.

And so they spent the day playing in the fields of the human world, tumbling down the grassy hills, and frolicking in the forest. They played games of tag, knitted together flower crowns, and thought of all sorts of games they could play in the future, for they had only so much time now. Despite his brother’s warnings to only visit the human world once, the child found himself longing for such moments with Thousand-Eyes. He mulled over the idea as he lay on the soft earth, and Thousand-Eyes blinked her many eyes at him, as if to ask him what was the matter. A crown of honeysuckle graced her head, the soft white petals pressing against four or five of her eyes.

If he had not known any better, he would have believed her to be a princess.

We will come here again, he said simply, and the child left it at that.

* * *

And so they did. Thousand-Eyes and the child visited a great many places in the human realm, as they were at the mercy of the portal, and they saw a great deal of many wondrous things. They frolicked in a castle long abandoned to the woods one day, frolicking among the overgrown walls and crumbling stone. The child chased Thousand-Eyes on all four of his paws, playing tag. They explored a cavern of a cathedral in the daylight, dashing and hiding behind pillars when they believed they sensed a human. They played games along the edge of a mountain spring, drinking deeply of its bounty. The wretched child stole and returned his eldest brother’s silver coins again and again, for his brother never remembered which coins were which, and then he went to waste away his afternoons with his dear friend.

They say I am a seer, said Thousand-Eyes one day, her fingers trailing the edge of a worn stone wall. Mother says I should be careful, really, but what’s the fun in that? I’m quite sure that no one would dare harm me, as is.

And why is that? The child loped after her in the forgotten temple, his eyes drawing themselves over the carved figures. He felt only the slightest pang of vexation at that. At being wanted. Surely it would do you good to have some sense of danger.

Thousand-Eyes only turned to the wretched child, her smile rivaling the sun beams that streamed down from above. The child could only look upon Thousand-Eyes, entranced as he was, and Thousand-Eyes plucked a flower from the wall. She placed it among the writhing shadows of his skull, smoothing them down as she did so, and cradled the side of his snout for a moment. Then she plucked a flower for herself and placed it in her own hair, matching him.

Well, I have you, do I not?

And just like that, the vexation he had felt had all but vanished.

* * *

The day of her two-hundredth birthday -- perhaps six or seven in human years -- came. The child wrapped her present gingerly within the honeysuckle-printed paper, tied it tight with a ribbon, and set off to the portal once more. He would be late, he knew, but surely she would not be angry once she saw the wonderful present he had prepared for her. A moment, and the portal opened up before his hunched body. Another moment, and he stepped through the portal, his feet meeting cobblestone on the other side. The sunlight blinded him for the span of a second, and he blinked away the harsh brightness.

He was in a city, strangely enough. No matter. Thousand-Eyes would be only some short distance from the portal, he was sure, and so he loped off to search for her in the alleyways and nooks of the human city. Her present was tucked gently within one clawed hand, and he made a note to do as much as he could not to damage her birthday present before he could give it to her.

Minutes passed, and he could not find her. He began to worry.

An hour passed, and he could not find her. He began to grow desperate.

The sky darkened, the sunset peeking out before the horizon, and he could not find her. The child became frantic, bounding through the city as he searched for Thousand-Eyes. Perhaps she had not come today. Perhaps her mother had instead kept a closer watch on her and she had simply been kept home, celebrating her birthday quite nicely with cakes of honey and roasted hazelnuts and all sorts of good things. Perhaps he was only worried for nothing, and he and Thousand-Eyes would laugh about it later over a game of chase.

Yet he could not bring himself to believe it. The child searched, and searched, and searched for hours on end, and soon it was dark.

And soon he found her. An angel with wings of alabaster and burning flesh released her, and the lifeless body that was once Thousand-Eyes crumpled to the ground. Her many eyelids wept blackened blood. Three other figures laughed with merriment as he did so, one of them clutching a bag that dripped with black ichor. Her ichor.

What luck we have! declared the angel with burning flesh. He took the sack from one of the figures and presented their bounty to them once more, for they could not believe their fortune. Surely we have been blessed this day.

Yes, agreed the figure beside him. To think we would have stumbled upon such a rare beast!

And such an easy quarry, too, added another.

His father had told him, once, that he was nothing more than a monster borne from his hatred and wrath. That he would never be anything more of a reminder of his disgrace and exile in that damned, dark place. His father had told him that he was a terrible, horrid, dangerous thing, and that it was only by his brothers’ grace that he had been let outside of the confines of the house. Perhaps if he tried just a bit harder, he would look just like the rest of his brothers. His father told him a great many painful things, you see, but it was only now he truly felt the flames of wrath. It was only now that his horns ignited with hellfire, his eyes blazing in the darkness, and his teeth grew into something truly worthy of a beast. It was only now that his claws became long and sharp, preparing themselves for the slaughter. It was only now that true, unbridled wrath burned like fire in his heart, consuming him from within.

And so the wretched child stepped out from the shadows.

* * *

The cobblestones drank the divine blood, the cerulean liquid soaking slowly into the street. The wretched child sobbed quietly into the lifeless body of his dear friend, crumpled on the ground. His eldest brother arrived some time later, took the wretched child by the hand, gathered the lifeless body, and carried them both home.

The funeral was a quiet one. The wretched child watched the procession from some distance away, as Thousand-Eyes’ distraught mother would not allow such a monster to attend. The wretched child’s father stood before him afterwards, both his disgust and his disappointment shrouding his visage more than the everlasting darkness ever would. The wretched child knew this, despite not daring to look into his eyes.

What do you have to say for yourself? asked his father, who was truly very cross. They stood in the shadows of his study. The wretched child only stared down at his clawed hands.

For a long moment, he did not dare to speak. He did not dare to breathe. When he finally spoke, it was with the grief of what his own actions had wrought, his throat heavy with sobs.

Her name was Thousand-Eyes, said the wretched child, and she was my friend.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me!#obey me fanfic #obey me writing #fanfic #writing #fairytales

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tessalouise · 4 years

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Addiction in Disordered Eating

My eating disorder was an addiction.

My self-harming behaviors were an addiction.

It was about the food, yes. It was about losing massive amounts of weight by whatever means necessary to achieve what I believed at that time to be a perfect body. It was about hurting a body I hated. It was about control.

At the same time, it was all wildly addictive.

I used nicotine for roughly three years and when I quit, I quit with hardly any thought of it afterward. I haven’t vaped, haven’t smoked a cigarette since making the decision. This is a whole different bear.

Truthfully, in recovery, I am still extremely uncomfortable in my body. Just because I am quitting these self-harm practices doesn’t mean the urges disappear. Disordered eating is addictive. Starving is addictive. Cutting is addictive. Hitting yourself with ferocity until your skin numbs and turns blue is, apparently, addictive. These practices can trigger the release of endorphins, which temporarily relieve pain.

For a long time, I justified self-harming as pain to ease pain. Self-harm does give you a second of relief. A white-hot, split-second. And then there’s the after.

The after, crumpled up on the kitchen floor with head-shaped dents in the cabinets, legs you can hardly touch because you just spent an unknown amount of time thrashing and punching at them and your skin is swelling and turning purple and you ache. The after, tending to open cuts with hydrogen peroxide and pressure, desperately trying to get the bleeding under control and panicking because you may have gone a little too deep this time. The after, the morning after, waking in your bed to the devastation of what you did to yourself in the night. The after, after the period of restriction, after fainting, when you can hardly keep your eyes open and even you know you must choke something down, and you feel like you just spent xx days empty and starving for nothing. The after, with the brittle nails and the layered t-shirts and three pairs of leggings on, because it’s seventy degrees in your house, but it feels like thirty.

The feeling the after brews in you is one of the shittiest feelings I’ve ever felt.

Shame, to the billionth power.

And still, like addicts crave the high, I crave hunger. I crave self-harm.

Quitting the eating disorder is extraordinarily complicated, because unlike other addictions, it is impossible to totally remove yourself from food, and it is impossible to totally remove yourself from hunger. I cannot separate myself from it in the way alcoholics can avoid liquor. Hunger is our body’s way of asking for food, and I will naturally become hungry throughout the day – only now, I have the responsibility to satiate it. I can only take this soured relationship I have with food and with hunger and nurture it. I can only get up each day and advocate for myself. I can only work to understand and identify the motley of whys and hows of these behaviors and their manifestation. It is so important to examine why we do the things we do.

I believe my eating disorder and tendency to self-harm stem from both my genetics and a deeper lack of control over my life. Eating disorders run maternally on my mother’s side and occurred in my father’s sister before her passing. I was predisposed to these behaviors, and a chaotic, incredibly confusing eggshell walk of an upbringing caused me to grasp at straws for whatever form of control I could find. I found anorexia in my preteens. I found self-harm earlier.

Understanding the root of addiction is essential. In my new, rational recovery brain, I can see the big picture. I can see the family history; I can see my genetic makeup and the brain chemistry. I can see my female ancestors starving themselves thin to take up the least amount of space possible. I can see the curly five-year old, I can see her cupping tiny hands over her ears, on her pink bedroom carpet buzzing with reverb from the newly divorced, screaming parents in the other room. I can feel her nervous tummy and the sensory overload, and I understand why she didn’t even want to eat. I can see the seven-year old waiting in line at the food bank, at a parent’s hip, thankful to know where her next meal is coming from and developing starvation trauma all the same. I can see the seven-year old at home, transforming the one gallon of milk into two with the magic of tap water.

Children should not have to learn to ration and stretch and hack their food. Children should not bear the enormous stress of finances and hunger. As a kid, I shouldn’t have known that expired doesn’t mean inedible, I shouldn’t have known the names of every volunteer at the food bank that quite literally sustained us, I shouldn’t have known how to stay warm in a home without heat, but I did. Life happens – parents are humans, too, and humans make mistakes, and with mistakes there are repercussions. Looking back, I am not angry, I am not bitter. The way I grew up expanded my capacity to Love. It has instilled in me the strongest desire to someday raise my own children and teach them gratitude in a household of abundance, a household in which food is simply available and accessible – food will not be an enemy, nor a luxury. In my own household, marital and financial stresses will be kept quiet, private, and entirely away from little ears. Childhood is confusing enough on its own and it is imperative for parents to preserve innocence.

I can see where wounds were created.

I can see why I chose destructive behaviors to distract from the deep hurt.

I can see why I became addicted and dependent on those behaviors to numb out.

So, here I am. I have this new, rational recovery brain, and though I am still uncomfortable in my body and in this new phase of my life, I am letting go of the idea that I need to be restricting or harming myself to be in control. I am safe and secure. Provided for. Those behaviors helped me a survive a tumultuous time, but they are no longer necessary, and they have always been destructive.

This new person I am is someone I am unfamiliar with. Clear-headedness is something I am unfamiliar with. But I feel present. I am no longer watching my life happen without me. It feels good to be this person.

#recovery #eating disorder recovery #ed recovery #addiction #sh recovery #childhood

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sachinighte · 4 years

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Tagged by the wonderful @uintuva, here you go darling <3

AO3 name: Memories_of_the_Shadows

Fandoms: Naruto, One Piece, Sailor Moon, Dragon Age, Harry Potter, MCU, Hannibal, NCIS, Criminal Minds, Stargate, Bleach, YYH, Inuyasha, Ken Akamatsu universe, FFXV, Hellsing, Underworld, BTVS, RWBY, Teen Wolf, YOI!, Voltron, BNHA, Pokemon (these are in no particular order and I tend to vacillate between them at random times. More will almost certainly pop up and I’m positive I forgot a few)

Number of fics: 80 (published)

1. Fic I spent the most time on: And Now I See The Sunrise: my Isaribi/Hinata sentinel/guide fic which I adore

2. Fic I spent the least time on: oh, god, I’ve been writing for years and I used to specialize in drabbles. I have no idea but it was probably one of my shorter ones

3. Longest fic: Philomel’s Lullaby: which is abandoned and terrible but still counts I guess

4. Shortest fic: Mikata: because I’m not going to count my terrible teenage poetry

5. Most hits: The Apple Now Is Sweet: you heathens. (Link is NSFW, click at your risk)

6. Most kudos: Don’t Ask Why It Works, It Just Does: which, fair, I’m also pretty proud of that one

7. Most comment threads: Again, it’s Don’t Ask Why It Works, It Just Does

8. Favourite fic I wrote: I have to choose!? Agggh, idk, probably Alive and Burning Brighter (my rule 63!Tony Stark), or And Till They’ve Seen The Light (my rift stabbing da crackfic), or And Now I’ve Seen The Sunrise (since I gave it to myself for my wedding, I sure hope I love it XD)

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Ack, okay, I know I only ever post finished work, and it is finished so I won’t do this, but probably Just A Dream? I just love it but I feel like I could do better. And I did start a sequel for it but I couldn’t get through it.

10. Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on: Hah, you asked for it, here’s a bit from my massive Cullanders magnum opus that keeps growing and growing because these two are just made for angst (also, yes, I write in html, it makes publishing on ao3 easier for me):

“I’m sorry. It’s been difficult to leave the Gallows with all the upheaval. The Knight-Commander has become… more demanding of my time as well.” Cullen sighs heavily, then grimaces, his hand moving towards his chest before aborting the movement. Anders is uncomfortably aware of the many different ways people try to hide pain and equally aware of how difficult that can be. He doesn’t want to sympathize with a Templar, but Cullen would likely be more gracious about any healing than Fenris ever is. It might be okay. If Cullen really is hurt. “I fear… it’s not… in any case, things will have to come to a head soon enough. Neither the Grand Enchanter nor Meredith are willing to back down and, well, there is no one in the Gallows who is unaware of how precarious the situation is.”

Oh, Anders knows. For every mage he helps to escape there are three more that he cannot get to because the Templars come for them too soon, without warning. No one is safe. (And Anders sits here with one of the perpetrators practically itching to heal him. Void take him, he hates himself some days.) “So Hawke says as well,” he says instead, guardedly.

Cullen shoots him a look that is far too wry and knowing for Anders’ comfort but he doesn’t comment beyond a small grin, a cocked eyebrow. So Cullen has guessed who it is that is sneaking mages out through the basement tunnels. Maybe he isn’t as dumb as he looks. And he doesn’t seem inclined to say anything about it.

Maybe, just maybe, there is at least one Templar who Anders can trust farther than he can throw them without magic or Justice.

“You’re stiff,” he offers, instead of dwelling on such a revelation, something so counter to everything he has known since he was a child. “Let me see.” Cullen sighs, shaking his head.

“People would notice if I was healed, thank you though. It’s just… a training accident,” he says as though he doesn’t believe that it was an accident, although Anders will grant that it did probably happen during training. And with Cullen himself letting Anders off the hook for healing, that should be the end of it. He should let this go and revel in the fact that Cullen is uncomfortable and will stay that way for as long as the stubborn arse will take to heal.

“Just tell them you bribed one of the mages,” he says instead. It’s a plausible enough story--every Circle he’s ever heard of has those who do it, although Anders is fairly sure Cullen isn’t one of the ones who would--and one that most Templars will accept even if it’s scornfully. (Anders remembers a time when he was the one getting bribed, though he was threatened more often than not rather than bribed. Anders had come to the conclusion very early on in his studies that he wouldn’t willingly heal Templars unless he had a very good reason and a laxer curfew, more candles or blankets, or someone ignoring a dalliance simply aren’t good enough. He remembers Flora was vastly more popular with the Templars as a result. Anders couldn’t have cared less.)

Cullen groans a bit, that aborted move to hug himself appearing once more, and sighes. “Fine. You’re right. Just because I can’t afford the downtime right now, not with the entire city like an overfilled flour mill with some young idiot striking a flint in the middle of it.”

Anders stifles a laugh. Cullen normally gives Fenris a run for his silent and broody money, or is shyer and more bashful--though similarly, and constantly, offended--than Velanna whenever he or one of the Rose’s workers brings up something particularly crude. But every once in a while he shows his Ferelden farmboy side and Anders can almost forget that Cullen is everything he hates.

The wound is red with the start of an infection and poorly wrapped. Luckily, it was only a glancing blow, shallow enough that once Anders cleans it out and heals what he can it won’t even scar. Justice howls in anger at the edge of Anders’ perception and Anders mentally shoves him away.

“They should teach you how to field dress injuries in training, not magic you can’t even use,” he says lowly, maybe to distract from how warm Cullen’s skin feels under his fingers, from the wiry dusting of golden curls on his chest. Anders is surprised every time by how human Templars are. He probably shouldn’t be. Cullen sighes and pulls away.

“I don’t disagree that field dressing would be useful,” he says. Anders wants to get angry, wants to want to fight, but really, he’s just tired. Tired of political statements, of this arrangement they have, of still having to fear for his life and sanity. Anders didn’t ask to be born with magic. Nobody but the worst blood mages do.

(He’s seen a few of them, people who make deals with demons for magic because what they really want is power and they all think they will get away with it. Unscrupulous and bold, every single one of them think that they’ll be able to stop once they get the one thing they want, but there’s always another thing on the horizon that only blood magic and more deals can help with. All of them were caught eventually, and grouped with mages who have never done a single harm in their entire lives. Legions of power-hungry blood mages who thought nothing of selling another person into death or worse for the sake of fleeting dreams of power. And for what? A moment in time that they could try to satiate their greed. Is it any wonder that it’s mostly nobles who end up taking that path to power?)

“It’s done,” he says, instead of replying, instead of the rant that Justice is beating into his temples. Anders turns away and starts to gather up his things when Cullen blushes and touches his side.

“Thank you, Anders,” Cullen says softly, and it sounds so sincere that Anders has to leave without saying anything else at all. He needs to remember that Cullen is a Templar.

Not someone sweet and sincere, who blushes easily and listens well. Just a Templar. He’ll show his true colors soon enough. Five years is nothing against a lifetime of proof.

Ah, sh*t, I tag whoever would like to do this?

#my work #fandom feels #my fanfiction #long post #is long #sorry for this

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dontwantthenextcommanderiwantyou · 5 years

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1,000 days since Lexa was killed.

In honor of Leksa kom Trikru, I re-watched the 4 hour Clexa supercut to make a list of my top 100 favorite Lexa quotes.

Jaha: “They want us to turn on each other.” Lexa: “They want justice.”

Jaha: “What is your name?” Lexa: “Leksa.” *And in that moment, a legend was introduced*

Lexa: “One of you must pick up the knife, that is our way.” Jaha: “And if we refuse?” Lexa: “Then the Commander will use it to slit both of your throats.”

Lexa: “He made his choice. This one’s mine.”

Lexa: “The massacre must be answered. Blood must have blood.”

Lexa: “You’re the one who burned 300 of my warriors alive.”

Lexa: “Do you have an answer for me, Clarke of the Sky People?” Clarke: “I’ve come to make you an offer.” Lexa: “This is not a negotiation.”

Lexa: “Deliver me the one you call Finn. Our truce begins with his death.”

Lexa: “Let her pass!”

Lexa: “You bleed for nothing. You can not stop this.”

Clarke: “Show my people how powerful you are. Show them you can be merciful. Show them you’re not a savage.” Lexa: “We are what we are.”

Lexa: “Finn is guilty.” Clarke: “No, he did it for me.” Lexa: “Then he dies for you.”

Lexa: “What you did tonight will haunt you until the end of your days.”

Gustus: “The Sky People are different, they’re more like the Mountain Men than us. It could kill our coalition.” Lexa: “Our coalition, or me?” Gustus: “You are the coalition, Commander.” Lexa: “Then do your job and protect me.”

Lexa: “The Sky People march with us now. Anyone who tries to stop that, will pay with their life.”

Lexa: “I lost someone special to me too. Her name was Costia.”

Lexa: “I thought I’d never get over the pain, but I did.” Clarke: “How?” Lexa: “By recognizing it for what it is. Weakness.”

Lexa: “The dead are gone Clarke. The living are hungry.”

Lexa: “Tell me something Clarke. When you plunged the knife into the heart of the boy you loved, did you not wish that it was mine?”

Gustus: “This alliance would cost you your life Heda. I could not let that happen.” Lexa: “This treachery will cost you yours.”

Lexa: “Attack her, and you attack me.”

Lexa: “Leave me!”

Lexa: “I’ve seen your strength, it’s true. But now you waiver. You couldn’t kill Quint, you couldn’t leave me to die. That was weakness.” Clarke: “I thought love was weakness.” Lexa: “Mockery is not the product of a strong mind Clarke.”

Lexa: “When I die, my spirit will find the next Commander.” Clarke: “Reincarnation… that’s how you became Commander?” Lexa: “How are your leaders chosen?”

Lexa: “Don’t be afraid Clarke, death is not the end.”

Lexa: “It’s okay, you’re safe.” Clarke: “How’s your arm?” Lexa: “Hurts.”

Lexa: “I was wrong about you Clarke. Your heart shows no sign of weakness.”

Lexa: “Clarke of the Sky People has honored us with her presence.”

Lexa: “Clarke sometimes you have to concede a battle, to win a war.”

Clarke: “This is wrong!” Lexa: “It’s also our only choice. You could’ve warned everyone out there, but you didn’t. You said nothing, not even to your own people. This is war Clarke, people die. You showed true strength today, don’t let emotion stop you now.”

Lexa: “Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.”

Lexa: “What happened here will not stand. The mountain will fall. The dead will be avenged!”

Lexa: “That’s what it means to be a leader Clarke. The truth is we must look into the eyes of our warriors and say go die for me.”

Lexa: “You were born for this, Clarke… same as me.”

Clarke: “What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just kill everyone you don’t trust!” Lexa: “Yes I can.”

Clarke: “You felt something for Gustus. You’re still haunted by Costia. You want everyone to think you’re above it all, but I see right through you.” Lexa: “G e t . . . o u t.” Clarke: “250 people died in that village. I know you felt for them, but you let them burn.” Lexa: “Not everyone… not you.”

Lexa: “You think our ways are harsh. That’s how we survive.” Clarke: “Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don’t we deserve better than that?” Lexa: “Maybe we do.” *And with that kiss, the most legendary tv ship was born*

Lexa: “You should come with me to the capital. Polis will change the way you think about us.” Clarke: “You already have.”

Clarke: “What did you do?” Lexa: “What you would’ve done… save my people.”

Clarke: “They’ll all be killed. But you don’t care do you?” Lexa: “I do care Clarke. But I made this decision with my head, not my heart. The duty to protect my people comes first.”

Lexa: “May we meet again.”

Roan: “Honor our deal.” Lexa: “I’ll honor our deal when your queen honors my coalition.”

Lexa: “Leave us!”

Lexa: “War is brewing Clarke. I need you.”

Clarke: “You went through all that trouble to capture me, just to let me go.” Lexa: “I went through all that trouble to save you.”

Lexa: “You’re angry Clarke, but I know you. What you’ve done haunts you and it’s easier to hate me than hate yourself.”

Lexa: “It helps no one to dwell on the past, that’s not why I’m here. You’re right, I’m not just letting you go back to your people. I want something more. I want your people to become my people. I’m offering Skaikru the chance to join my coalition. Become the 13th clan, no one would dare move against you because that would be moving against me.”

Lexa: “You can’t run away from who you are Clarke!”

Lexa: “Please come join me, let us speak in private. I have a message for Queen Nia.”

Lexa: “Would anyone else care to question my decisions?” Everyone: … .. . Lexa: “Good, then let's begin.”

Lexa: “I will not let the fear of war dictate our agenda.”

Titus: “She won’t even see you. Yet everything you do elevates her. Why?” Lexa: “Clarke elevates herself. She’s special.”

Lexa: “I never meant to turn you into this.”

Lexa: “This is an act of war. Sentries arrest the Ice Nation delegation!”

Lexa: “Clarke will be safe here under my protection.”

Clarke: “I stayed because it was the right thing for my people.” Lexa: “Our people.” Clarke: “If you betray me again.” Lexa: “I won’t. I swear fealty to you, Klark kom Skaikru. I vow to treat your needs as my own, and your people as my people.”

Nia: “None of us here wants war.” Lexa: “We both know what you want, Nia. If you think me unfit to command, issue the challenge, and lets get on with it.”

Titus: “Heda, who will fight for you?” Lexa: “I’m the Commander. No one fights for me.”

Clarke: “You don’t stand a chance against Roan.” Lexa: “You’ve never seen me fight.”

Clarke: “I can’t just let Roan kill you.” Lexa: “If that is to be my fate, you must! You’re driven to fix everything for everyone. But you can’t fix this. I have to do this on my own and you have to let me.”

Lexa: “The queen is dead! Long live the king!”

Clarke: “Is this I told you so?” Lexa: “No, this is thank you.”

Clarke: “Goodnight Commander.” Lexa: “Goodnight Ambassador.”

Lexa: “You left a hero to your people, and you return one. The mountain slayer returns with the body of the ice queen. You bring them justice.” Clarke: “You bring them justice.” Lexa: “We bring them peace.”

Lexa: “I call upon the armies of the 12 clans. In a days’ time we lay waste to Arkadia and everyone within its walls!”

Indra: “Commander, you can’t seriously be considering this.” Lexa: “I’m not considering it. I’m doing it.”

Indra: “Polis will not support you. Titus…” Lexa: “Titus is my subject! They’re all my subjects! Do you say they will defy me? Will you defy me?” Indra: “No Heda, I will not.” Lexa: “Then let it be known… blood must not have blood.”

Lexa: “She can speak for herself, Titus.”

Titus: “See, it is human nature to need vengeance. Only once satiated can there be peace. That is our way.” Lexa: “That was our way! Clarke?” Clarke: … .. . Lexa: “So blood must not have blood applies only when it is my people who bleed.”

Lexa: “Heda will speak for herself! Enough, Titus.”

Lexa: “Quiet! The crimes of the Mountain cannot be answered by one man. Wanheda knows this. Her actions show us a promise for a new future. A world in which violence does not always answer violence. A world in which our children can flourish, without the shadow of death.”

Titus: “What are their orders Heda?” Lexa: “Any Skaikru caught across the line will be subject to a kill order.” Semet: “Heda I do not understand. How is this vengeance?” Lexa: “It is not vengeance my brother. It is justice.”

Clarke: “So when do we have to leave?” Lexa: “We may be drawing a line but who’s to say you can’t choose to stay on this side of it?”

Titus: “If you care for Clarke you will send her home, that is the only way she will be safe! Don’t make her pay the price for your mistakes as Costia did.” Lexa: “My mistakes? Azgeda cut off Costia’s head and delivered it to my bed! And still I let them into my alliance! I am more than capable of separating feelings from duty!!”

Clarke: “I’m sorry.” Lexa: “Don’t be. You have to go back, they’re your people. That’s why I… that’s why you’re you.”

Clarke: “If Octavia and I are gonna get behind the blockade by dawn…” Lexa: “Shhhh.”

Lexa: “The next commander will protect you.” Clarke: “I don’t want the next commander. I want you.”

Lexa: “Clarke.” Clarke: “I’m here.” Lexa: “My fight is over.” Clarke: “No. No. I won’t accept that.” Lexa: “You were right Clarke. Life is about more than just surviving.”

Lexa: “Our fight is not over.”

Clarke: “I never thought I’d see you again.” Lexa: “I told you my spirit would choose wisely.”

Lexa: “It’s a firewall.”

Clarke: “Lexa! I love you.” Lexa: “I’ll always be with you.” *Lexa will always be with all of us*

Go drop some votes for the amazing Alycia Debnam-Carey... without her, we would’ve never had Lexa, Clexa, Clexakru, or ClexaCon.

#Alycia Debnam Carey #commander lexa #clexa #clarke griffin #wlw #clexakru #quotes #lexa #leksa kom trikru #alexandria woods

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