#me when I seek my own destruction but also view myself as a god and thus my destruction is inherently impermanent. perhaps I resent that. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inb4belphienaps · 3 years

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warnings: angst (i think?), mention of blood, introspection strikes again word count: 1264 A/N: with peace and love, this is written from lucifer’s perspective <3

When you sigh, I feel the ghost of your breath against my lips.

When you stop and reach upwards towards the sky in an attempt to stretch your stiff back, I feel the weight of the world rise and fall from your shoulders.

When you whisper to yourself in the quiet of the night and watch the darkness shift like the tide, I feel your hand in mine.

With the oath I took, you and I became connected. In that one instance, there was no longer a “you” or a “me”. There was only us.

There was only and is only the bond that we share, this immovable thread, never to be severed even by our own design. Though we may each have the power to do so, I have no intentions of cutting it.

I just hope to be able to say the same about you…

Longing. Yearning. Aching. Knowing. But do you know?

Do you know how quickly you infatuated me? How readily my affections grew to such proportions that seemed impossible? How easily the desire to have you look at only me spread throughout my entire being? Like wildfire, like an untamable spark, it had engulfed me before I could even recall what used to lie there in my chest, what had occupied that empty space before you.

Struck so suddenly I withdrew into myself. I watched you through walls that could neither contain your presence nor discourage mine. I heard you read to yourself, brows furrowed as shadows danced along your silhouette, and I would close my eyes so as to remember your voice. Your voice that can do so much with but an utter of my name. One look. One word. That’s all I need.

And yet, I am selfish. Incapable of letting you be.

My expression sours and the formication of anger does nothing to dampen my hunger. This craving for you is new. But it is also irony. In the past (though some still practice this custom), humans were used as sustenance to demons. Sacrificed and hunted down for sport for generations. Why then do I covet you instead?

What are you to me?

This question bounces around in my head. Sometimes with a speed that I cannot fathom. Other times, it lingers, almost hovering in the air, drifting along on the stream of consciousness I call my thoughts. In the silence of my mind and in the desolate hallways of this flesh, I picture you as clear as day.

How can you know, I ask myself. How can you possibly know?

Those human hands, soft to the touch yet strong enough to mend the broken. Those livid lips, full of emotion and yet unreadable on occasions wherein I wish I could understand. Those eager eyes, like glass, reflective and transparent but glazed over when met with disfavors.

Those eyes that seek me out draw me near. Wordlessly, I walk forward. Two steps become three, then four and suddenly I come face-to-face with your visage, and yet still, the urge to close the gap between us grows ever stronger. I’m not sure what this means exactly. I have a hunch.

The Ancient Greeks had the right idea.

…I think.

You know how it goes, don’t you?

A single body with four arms and legs. A single head with two faces. Complete and whole and happy in their absoluteness. It’s obvious, isn’t it? That the Gods were jealous. The supposed “fear” for the humans’ lack of devotion is but an excuse.

Wrathful and spiteful Gods – what a familiarly arduous concept.

No power, as well-intentioned as they may begin, can resist the sins of temptation. And I’m sure you’re aware by now that temptation can come in many forms. Even you, you who appears to have no weaknesses, aren’t immune to its effects.

With this at least I know that I may have some influence over you. That as indirect as this said influence may be, I am still the one behind it.

So why does this notion do little to dispel the loneliness?

Why does the brief moment of satisfaction fall away to give leverage to something deeper? Something more profound than whatever lies beneath the term “loneliness”? It does not describe the extent to which such melancholy resides. It does not describe the misery that threatens to plague me when you are not by my side. It does not pacify the fear, or the regret, or the ever-looming presence of whatever confusion brews inside.

Why did I dismiss you so early on in our acquaintance?

Because I have lived through the pain of love (regarding humans in particular). The way it ravages the soul and bears its destruction with no care for the consequences such violence reaps.

I have witnessed the anguish, the way it consumes one’s mind and leads them astray. I have seen to what extent this manner of delirium, like the seed of a forgotten weed, can flourish when left alone and unplucked. I carry this knowledge within me, and I recognize its devastation.

And I am torn.

For I have also seen the opposite. The other side, the one veiled in devotion. In such pure and unadulterated tenderness that has, I’ll admit, affected me. Even after the fall, I could not shake it. I cannot deny the existence of love in humans. How they can be infused with passion, and how that passion can snuff out any evil that may cause them doubt.

As enticing as temptation can be to humans, they are just as strong to push back against it. To resist and to surpass the limits that have been used to contain them. I see that in you.

In how you act in front of my brothers. But most importantly, in how you act in front of me. Do I amuse you? Do you think me off-putting? Is it not different now? Between us…

Why won’t you give yourself to me?

Why won’t you let me in?

How can I take back what I may have done that unknowingly tainted your view of me? How can I tint your gaze with desire like my own? How can I decorate my words with the fondness that I hide so that I may appear as unstirred as you?

So many questions that I hold close to my chest, like roses in the breast-pocket of my vest. They are left unanswered and better thought of as unmentioned in your absence. Their thorns, however, tear through the fabric and prick my skin, drawing beads of blood.

This bond, it grows. Yet I fear that it is one-sided. That if I were to draw a scale, it would undoubtedly tip and crumble at my feet. Hesitation makes a mockery of me, my love. May I call you as such?

Do I dare to reveal my intentions so blatantly?

My love…my dearest…it grows. It blooms. It flowers and it’s beautiful. Would you allow me to imagine it? Us. Not just the idea of us. I want to imagine the reality of us. As tangible and as visible as both the warmth and the flush on my cheeks when I think of you.

I want to hold your hand in mine and feel you squeeze my fingers. I want to kiss your lips and drink your affections. I want…

…I want you to tell me that you love me. That I am not alone in my realizations. That you’re as helpless as me to succumb to them.

That for me, you will not resist the temptation of love.

#i know i bully him but really it's so that i don't let on how much i like him #there is only (1) lovesick fool in this house #and this is he #obey me writing #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me! lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gn reader #my writing 🐇

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saffronwritings · 3 years

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An Accident that Defines You

Pairing: Villain Deku x reader

Warnings: Uhhhhhh angst? LOL

A/N: This is something i wrote before starting all of my newer stuff. I really enjoy the thought of Villain!Deku for some reason.. This is also where the character has a quirk to deactivate their own and other’s hearing. It’s explained in the one-shot.

“Izuku, it’s not safe here!” I shouted towards him as we continued to fight off the attacking villains. “We need to get these people out of here and take the battle elsewhere!” Iida shouted after me. We agreed to get the remaining civilians out of the fight zone. I quickly activated my quirk to distract two of the attacking villains I could see within range.

I huddled together three of the civilians in my area and took them towards a separate building. “Ma’am, are we going to survive this attack?” One of the gentlemen asked in a panicked state. “You have some of the best students from UA in the area. You are all going to be safe with us.” I smiled at him reassuringly. With the use of my quirk on two villains, my own hearing started to diminish. I knew better than to attempt more than one person at a time.

Aizawa warned me of the over usage of my own quirk. I knew the dangers that it possessed. However, we needed a distraction. We needed an upper hand in this never-ending fight. There was only six of us from UA; Izuku, Katsuki, Iida, Shinsou, Kirishima, and me. We were all out celebrating from a long week of testing and exams. We were prepping to take the final exit exam to become pro heroes. We were just walking downtown to grab something to eat when the attack happened.

Bakugou was off in a moment’s time and Kirishima was after him. Iida was rounding up civilians to try and keep them safe. Shinsou and Izuku were fighting off the numbers of villains. I was back up and helping Iida round up civilians. I was good as a versatile hero; I could be used in both the fight and in rescue. After waving the civilians off to a safe place, I trudged back towards the fight.

Izuku and I locked eyes and I could tell he was getting spent. He had been practicing so hard to get One for All under control and making it his own. We spent many days training together with hand to hand combat. He always took it easy on me since my quirk wasn’t really close combat. We had grown so close to each other in these last few months. He was about to activate it to its fullest potential and really injure himself.

At that moment, I made a decision that I knew shouldn’t have been made. Everyone around me pulsed and that’s when I went overboard. I shut off everyone’s hearing in a three-mile radius, including my classmates. Izuku looked over at me just as soon as my quirk activated with his eyes wide. My ears felt like they were under so much pressure that I flinched as I attempted to stand up. A villain made his way over to me in anger, realizing that I was the source of his hearing loss.

I saw the panic in Izuku’s eyes when he saw the villain stalking my way. “MOVE.” He attempted to shout, and I was able to read his lips. My eyes widen as I saw the position of his fingers. One that we all knew came with extreme power. I quickly ran out of the way as soon as he let go of his finger, sending a blast of power where the villain was, and I had previously been. I was caught by the blast and pushed a bit more towards the road.

There was a ringing in my ears from my quirk being so overused. I felt nauseated and weak from the usage. I picked myself up from the ground to see the destruction of Deku’s attack. The pavement was upturned roughly. I looked over to him to see him panting and heading my way. The ringing kept going and I couldn’t hear anything going on around me. Before I could even process it, Bakugou was blasting Deku in the opposite direction.

I was befuddled. This was not the time for their little bouts. Suddenly Iida was crouching in front of me. “We need to go. Now.” He directed with a look of panic in his eyes. I gave a look of confusion and turned to look at the thing his eyes were focused on. Behind me was the gentleman who I saved earlier, lying crumpled on the ground in the midst of where Deku’s blast hit. I scrambled to my feet and ran over to the man, not worrying about my own well-being. “Sir!” I shouted, shaking his body, feeling his neck for a pulse. I found nothing. “Sir!!” I shouted louder, still shaking his body. I felt the color drain out of my face.

I felt tears swell in my eyes. I had failed him. I felt a hand grip my shoulder and knew instantly that it was Iida. I turned around to see him looking at me solemnly. “We need to go get Izuku!” I mouthed to Iida who shook his head. “What do you mean no?” I shouted at him. Iida looked frustrated and looked to his side and suddenly Shinsou Hitoshi was right next to him. They were both arguing for a moment before Shinsou made eye contact with me. “We need to go. NOW.” I read from his lips. “Absolutely not!” I tried to counter, but I felt my body go weak. Shinsou came over to me and threw me over his shoulder. “Let’s go Iida.” He shouted and started to head off in the opposite direction.

...

I woke up startled as I felt sweat dripping from my body. That day was drilled in my head as a reoccurring nightmare. The day that changed the mood of our high school careers. We all felt the same pain of turning in Izuku to the police for the murder of a civilian. It was hard to grasp, and I knew it was an accident. However, everyone else thought otherwise. They all convinced me to keep my distance and not seek him out. My heart ached thinking of the pain that he was in.

I hadn’t seen Izuku since that incident. Hitoshi and Iida had taken me by force from the scene. Bakugou was cursing the entire way back with Kirishima on his tail. We made it back to the dorms and let Aizawa-sensei know what had happened. The color drained from his face before ordering a lockdown of the dorms and fled the building quickly. We got news of Izuku’s disappearance the following morning. He had fought a few pro-heroes in the process. Injuring Endeavor and even Al Might.

The following week he was spotted with the leader of the League of villains, Shigaraki Tomura. Before anyone could get close to them, they had fled the scene. That was over two months ago. UA had gone silent on the incident and didn’t speak further into detail about it. The five of us that were involved that night had all changed. I didn’t speak to Iida or Hitoshi for weeks. I avoided everyone as best as I could. I was so infuriated with how things happened.

For the longest time, I blamed myself for using my quirk to the point of exhaustion. I always wondered if I hadn’t deafened Izuku’s hearing if he would have heard Iida’s warning shout. We could still all be studying together to pass our exit exams instead of all of us keep to ourselves. You could tell how tense the entire school was about the situation at hand. A lot of Izuku’s clothes and personal items had gone missing from his dorm room shortly after the incident.

That was the last time we think he was ever on school grounds. After that, he was a ghost. I don’t think I ever fully forgave Iida and Hitoshi’s actions that night for not allowing me to go to Izuku. They all viewed him with harsh eyes for the accident that happened. A shudder went down my spine as I got up out of my apartment bedroom to grab a glass of water.

A flash of green made me drop my glass of water and it instantly shattered on the ground. “Wait, Y/N.” Izuku’s voice chilled me to the bone. It was raspy and broken. “Izuku?” I whispered in shock. “Yes, it’s me doll.” He whispered, crossing the threshold of my apartment to embrace me in his arms. The nickname he had given me in private brought a flush of warmth to my cheeks. I quickly wrapped my arms around him tightly. I felt tears spilling from my eyes almost instantly.

“Oh god, doll. It’s so good to see you again.” He whispered nervously. We had never really told anyone about our relationship. We kept it private because of everything going on. We didn’t need our classmates to tease us about our relationship. We had been dating a little under six months before the accident happened. I pulled away from him to really take a good look at him. His hair was disheveled and wild. His eyes were no longer the bright green I knew. They were dark and one of his eyes had turned red in color.

“Izuku what happened to you…” I whispered, putting a hand up to his cheek. “It’s been awful doll. They have been searching for me endlessly. I’ve had to hide and stay hidden.” He whispered, leaning into my hand. He turned his face towards my palm and gave it a soft peck. “How did you know I lived here now? You’ve been missing for two months.” I graveled at him.

“I’ve kept my tabs on you. I was making sure you were safe. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew any harm had come to you because of me.” He snarled. The soft innocent boy I had known two months ago was gone. Yet, he was still Izuku. He still cared deeply about me regardless of the situation.

“What are we going to do, Izuku?” I asked with a strained voice. I covered my mouth with my hand to stop the racking sobs that kept coming. “Oh, doll. Don’t cry, it’s okay now.” He cooed as he helped me to the floor. We sat close together on my kitchen floor. He kept rubbing circles on my hand and looking from my hand to my face. “I still can’t get over the fact I am actually here with me right now,” I whispered as I was attempting to get myself together.

“What are you doing with the league of villains, Izuku?” I asked after we had a moment of silent pause. I could feel him stiffen at the question. “Y/N… You have to understand, that I was not safe anywhere. Tomura was the only one to offer me any kind of solace. A place to hide. Someone who was willing to work with me when everyone else stared at me in disgust.” He explained in a low voice. You could hear how broken he was about this whole situation. “You don’t view me as a monster like everyone else, do you?” He whispered, as if almost afraid to receive the answer.

“It was an accident, Izuku. You were trying to save me from my own mistake.” I whispered. “I let you down by overusing my quirk. Hadn’t I used the last bit of strength I had, you wouldn’t have had to use your power. We would have graduated UA together. We would have been going out and starting our paths as heroes.” I managed to say in between sobs.

“What has everyone else said?” He asked coldly. “You can already imagine. I separated myself from them. I still haven’t forgiven Hitoshi or Iida for taking me away from you. When you needed someone the most. When you needed me the most.” I told him. I looked over at him with sorrow in my eyes. Izuku was staring at me when I turned to look at him. His eyes were piercing mine as if looking into my soul.

There was a loud knock on my apartment door. “Y/n? Is everything alright?” the voice of Kaminari said. Izuku looked both shocked and pissed off. “You live near, Kaminari?” He snarled quietly. “They insisted that I needed to be watched over. They won’t leave me alone.” I sighed, standing up. “I’ll get him to go away if you wanted to just stay in my bedroom.” I continued. He stood up and pulled me to him roughly. As soon as I caught my breath, his lips collided with mine. I instantly melted into his touch, his kiss.

However, he pulled away sooner than I would have anticipated. “I would love to stay, doll. I really would.” He grimaced, staring at the front door. “We will see each other soon. I promise you.” Before I knew it, he was gone in a flash of green. My heart ached for his presence. I held it together while going up to my front door. I took a deep breath and opened the door. “Hi, Kaminari,” I said in a cold voice.

His stare was hard to read. “Y/N… who was with you just now?” He asked, making my heart skip a beat. “What are you talking about, Kaminari? You know I live alone.” I stated in a calm even tone. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He said before grabbing onto my wrist.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a room with steel walls. “What the…” I started to say before the door slammed open. “Ground Zero…” I whispered as I looked at Katsuki in the eyes. His expression was also hard to read. “Don’t bullshit me, y/n. Where did Izuku go?” He asked in a steady voice. “I don’t know what you’re insinu-” I started to say before Katsuki slammed his fist onto the wall. “Dammit, stop lying! We know he stopped by your apartment last night.” He shouted.

“Why does it matter, Katsuki!? What are you going to do?” I yelled at him back. “Bring him into justice like he deserves! He killed someone, y/n!” He yelled back at me. I stood up abruptly and got in his personal space. “It was an accident and you knew that! He wouldn’t have done that on purpose! You are the whole reason he fled! You all believed he was a monster!” I shouted while stabbing my finger into his chest. His eyes were boring down into mine.

Suddenly his eyes softened at me before closing the door. Securing the two of us alone in the room. I didn’t know whether the room was bugged or not. “Y/N I know this is hard for you. Out of all the people that knew Izuku the best, it was you. He told me about how you two were dating before the incident happened. He confided in me before he even asked you out because he was a nervous wreck that damn nerd.” He started to say. Bakugou knew about Izuku and I. This was going to get dangerous quickly.

“You have to give me any information you have about him.” He said in almost a whisper. Bakugou wasn’t one to let his emotions down easily around people. He almost seemed defeated by his statement. He walked away from me and slammed his fist into the wall again. “I was supposed to be battling with him for the number one hero spot. Not chasing him down as one of the most wanted villains.” He strained out. “I wish I could tell you something, Katsuki. I really do. He stopped by my apartment last night and just told me he wanted to see me.” I told him, keeping Tomura out of the picture.

He sighed before rubbing his temple. “Okay, I’m sorry for the force we had to use to get you here. When sparky called me saying that he heard something break in your apartment then heard another muffled voice, I gave him the okay to use force. That damn nerd must have fled before Kaminari could get him. Not that he could have anyway.” He sneered. “Yeah, not the first-time force has been used against me in your guys’ favor.” I spit back.

“You would have followed him, Y/N.” He barked at me. “So what?” I sneered right back. “We couldn’t have two students go off the deep end! Izuku is dangerous now. He is willing to do anything to keep himself hidden.” He remarked. “I want to go home,” I demanded suddenly. Katsuki huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s only going to get worse before it gets better. You know, that, right? He has to be brought to justice.” He barked at me again. This time I bit my tongue and turned my gaze to the opposite wall. “Fine, go ahead and go home. However, we are going to stake out your place since the sighting of a villain has been apparent.” He said while emphasizing the word villain.

I stood up and brushed past him on my way out. Kaminari was in the front lobby of Bakugou’s new agency. I activated my quirk as I walked by him to deactivate both my hearing and his. His expression changed when he saw me walk past him without being able to hear me. This would not be the end of my encounters with Bakugou’s crew from his agency.

Things were not easy for the following weeks as I knew I was being staked out by the pro heroes. I was almost associated as a villain because of my private meeting with Izuku. My heart was aching because I was not sure who to believe nor what to do. I knew that I needed to focus on my own hero work and getting in with an agency and who best than with Mirio Toogata.

He was more than ecstatic to take me in as an intern for his agency. I started working hard on blending in with the rest of my class while working for a pro hero agency. I hadn’t heard or seen Izuku since the night in my apartment. I saw from the news of more sightings with him with the League of Villains. The agency did their best to keep it quieter since they knew I was once close with Izuku. I was only hoping that he was staying safe and not making any more rash decisions.

Eight months had passed before we heard anything about any attack led by the League of Villains. Izuku was no longer front-page news, but more of an addition whenever the league was brought up. I hadn’t heard anything from him. He did not stop by my apartment again after the incident where Kaminari stopped by.

I wasn’t expecting to see him today. I was running errands on my day off from patrolling the city. There wasn’t that much villain activity lately which you would have thought that would have been a great thing. Yet, it put all of us heroes on edge because we were waiting for the next attack. I was passing the local convenience store and caught a glimpse of green from the corner of my eye.

I turned slowly to see the familiar curly green locks that I could pick out of a crowd. “It can’t be…” I whispered as we locked eyes. His face remained neutral to seeing me. He was standing in an alleyway as if waiting for someone. He wore a suit that hugged his frame. His sweet demeanor was no longer there. “Hello, doll.” He said, quickly making his way towards me. I knew I should have run and called for backup. Every inch of my body screamed for me to attack.

I couldn’t bring myself to do that. “Izuku...” The words came out of my mouth as if struggling. “You don’t have to be afraid, my doll. I was waiting for you.” He said, strolling up to me and taking my hand into his. He pulled lightly for me to follow him. Quickly snapping out of my daze I pulled my hand away from him. “What do you mean you were waiting for me? Izuku, they could catch you if anyone notices you!” I shrilled, panic rising up in my voice. This made his eyes glisten with excitement. He had changed completely in the months we hadn’t seen one another. His presence was different and something felt off.

“I knew you would eventually come this way, and I just had to see you. It’s been far too long since I’ve had the pleasure of being graced with your presence.” He cooed, putting a hand upon my cheek, stroking his thumb against my skin. His fingers were so calloused.

I took all of me not to melt into his touch. I stepped away from him and attempted to walk away. He was being reckless and you did not want to be the reason he got locked away for good. He grabbed my wrist tightly. “You don’t think you can leave me so soon, do you?” He asked. “Izuku, we both know we are two opposite sides of the same coin. You are at risk of being brought to justice and I cannot follow you.” I grimaced, trying hard to keep my composure.

It was hard not to let the tears flow out of my eyes. I had been anticipating seeing him again. The guy who I had such strong feelings for. One I had put all my trust and hopes into. The one who I imagined becoming the number one hero, to replace All Might. “I won’t fight you, or bring you into the pros. I can’t do that to you, Izuku. However, I cannot follow your path of villainy.” I said, the words struggling to form a coherent sentence in between my wracking sobs.

He stepped closer and wrapped his strong arms around me. “I had no choice, doll. You know this. “ His lips next to my ear. Hot breaths sending chills down my spine. “I miss you so much doll. I am so sorry I am making this difficult for you.” He whispered, nuzzling his face into my neck.

Tears were steadily flowing down my face. I wanted nothing more for things to go back to normal. Where all of our fellow classmates didn’t label my dear Izuku a villain. I turned around in his embrace. “I miss you, Izuku, more than you could ever imagine,” I whispered. “You could join me; I will keep you safe. Nothing would ever come between us again.” He suggested to me not to miss a breath. A tempting offer.

“You know you need inside information,” I told him, tears streaming down my face. I never imagined I would ever betray the pro heroes in order to give Izuku information. While I told Izuku I would never follow down his path, I knew I was slipping down the blurred line. He put his index finger under my chin to bring me to look up at him. When had he become this much taller than me?

“One day, my doll. I will keep you safe and we will never have to worry about the others. We will have an escape.” He murmured while looking deep into my eyes. He placed a soft kiss to my forehead and lingered there for a moment’s time. “Soon, my love. We will be together again. Permanently.” He said before walking off into the shadows.

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i-rely-on-you · 3 years

Note

8 of the touching thing pleaaase

Yes I am still working my way through these, I am just slow as fooq

Thank you @faytalepsy for this lovely prompt!

You can find that list here https://creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/646663448366858240/touching

Fury

Fury. Is what registered first. The utter fury on Sauls face as she glanced at him.

They had stood in the grand hall when an armoured guard had walked up to them. She hadn’t even seen him enter but suddenly he stood before her in all of his five foot seven glory. Polished queens guard armour adorning his narrow body and a belittling smile plastered to his smug visage.

Without waiting to be addressed he directed his voice at her and her alone. As if there wasn’t a man twice his size standing next to her watching his every move.

“Queen Luna of Solaria has requested this to be brought to your attention. The traitor Rosalind has been sighted on the far side of the Eraklyan border not more than 2 hours ago. The Queen herself has requested a messenger to deliver this information to you. As a sign of good faith.”

His face twisted into an overly confident snarl. His pride wafted off of him like a foul stench. He delivered his words as if his message held the answers to every and all of the worlds problems.

Farah couldn’t even begin to form a coherent answer when she felt Saul sidestepping her. As he did so his hand found her side, pushing her behind him. But it was the look on his face that had her suck in a breath.

His rage rolled off of him in shock waves. The force with which his emotions permeated the air almost blinding to the mind fairy. His fury nothing like anything she had ever seen before. Not on him. And not on anyone she had ever met.

His face was contorted into a menacing sort of expression she had never seen on him before in her life. His eyes were filled with an unfiltered fire making them appear multiple shades darker. The greenish blue hues she adored so much suddenly resembling dark green emeralds. The glint in his eyes holding a promise of violence as his hand gripped the pommel of his sword so hard, it had veins rise up with the force of it.

With his well over six foot tall body Saul practically towered over the man before him, making the guard appear smaller than ought to be possible in his armour. The gesture in itself had the soldier take a step back, his hand flying to his swords handle on instinct. His face had turned ashen and surprised in an instant.

Sauls posture was the epitome of tension as it rippled through his body. His agitation palpable as his back stiffened, every muscle in his body ready to pounce.

The voice cutting through the silence that had overcome the wide room sounded so foreign, even to her own ears, for it didn’t even sound like her specialists gentle baritone at all.

“Go back to your Queen and tell her, we don’t want any of her intel. Neither your majesty nor her guard are welcome here anymore.”

The look of smugness left the mans face as he took in the specialist before him. Opening his mouth to reply he was cut off by Sauls voice.

“You are not welcome here soldier. Have I made myself clear?”

Her partners hand tensed on her side when the guard tried to get a word in again.

“The Queen has requested-“, but the specialist cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

“Queen Luna is dead to us. And for all intents and purposes so are her men. So if you don’t want that word to become more literal in nature I suggest you vacate the premise immediately.”

With Sauls wide body shielding her from view she couldn’t make out the guards face but she heard the sharp intake of air and a shuffle of feet. Shortly after she heard the man let out a frustrated huff before stalking off into the direction of his car where it stood parked in the courtyard.

As she witnessed the guard all but scurry off into the distance she grasped the arm of her specialist holding her waist. The muscles in his forearm flexed beneath her fingers as he watched the man leave.

When he was well passed the gate and almost out of sight Farah could feel more than see the tension leaking out of her partners body. His shoulders sagged with relief and his lungs expelled what seemed to be all the air left in his body as he blew out a pained breath.

He then swirled around so quickly she couldn’t even begin to miss his comforting touch on her side before his hands encircled her face tenderly. His touch such a crass contrast to his earlier behaviour it made the fairies insides flutter with fondness for the man before her.

Gone was the man that could strike fear into any opponent with a single look. He left in a flash and in his place stood the man she recognised once more. Striking blue eyes shone with unbridled love and care, gazing down at her. This was her partner she knew and loved so much.

Letting her hand touch his side and snake around to his back she felt him tremble at the contact. The strain left behind by the encounter bleeding out of him in a gushing flood. It didn’t take a mind fairy to feel it’s intensity.

Letting his thumbs swipe across her cheeks gently, his eyes asking silently if she was alright, he found her nodding mutely. As her eyes fell closed she too let out a breath of relief, the tension in her shoulders getting released at his tender touch.

She could feel his devotion as it traveled through the air like a thick fog surrounding her body and soul.

Dropping her head forward she felt his mouth find the crown of her head as he kissed her tenderly. Pulling her towards him he snaked his arms around her back and cradled her to him.

Letting her face seek refuge in the space between his neck and chest, Farah feathered her lips over his pulse point. Feeling the need to have it thrum beneath her. To make sure he was there and real. Real in her arms and sturdy as ever. That they were fine.

Hugging her to him stronger now he had to remind himself that she wouldn’t break in his arms. She wouldn’t disappear into thin air all of the sudden like in his nightmares.

It had been a little less than a week when he had pulled her from the earth. Little less than a week when he had felt his world shatter around him. His life losing all meaning.

He could still see the soil clinging to her pale skin every night when he closed his eyes.

As he gifted her his breath and brought her back from the edge he had cradled her slacken body to him and thanked the gods for their mercy. His harrowed sobs had echoed the graveyard and he had felt what it was like to witness a miracle.

The bruise on her neck was still visible. Not yet fully healed. Serving as a reminder of what he had almost lost.

As she felt his arms around her tighten and his lips ghosting over her temple she could feel herself getting lighter. A calm coming over her and settling into her bones.

In his strong embrace she found more than just a pillar of strength. She found a sense of belonging.

Yes. In his arms she was home.

And had she looked at his face in that moment she would’ve found her own feelings mirrored in his eyes.

She knew the lengths this man would go to in order to protect her. She could read it on his face clear as day.

For the fraction of a moment he had witnessed life without her. It was a cold world. A cruel place void of love and meaning. It wasn’t a world worth living in.

Just then she felt him sink his nose into her hair, breathing her in. That familiar scent always able to calm him. She marvelled at the devotion oozing from his every pore.

She knew of his rage and darkest thoughts. Of what he would’ve done had she died. Of the havoc he would have wrecked on the world in order to find Rosalind. The destruction and utter carnage he would have left behind in his wake. The pain he would have inflicted on those standing in his way. There was no doubt in her mind that this man would do anything in his power to protect her.

For he had lost her once.

He had witnessed hell.

He had been there.

And he didn’t plan on going back. Never again.

the end

Thank you for reading! Be sure to leave a comment on ao3 and tell me what you think. Some kudos is also always appreciated ♥️

#silrah #farah dowling #saul silva #fanfic #ao3 #prompt #fate the winx saga #fate winx saga #bring back farah dowling 2k22 #farah is taking a nap #farahs hair #farah dowling x saul silva #farah dowling supremacy

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Genji Heavy Industries (End) Turning Point

After all this way, we finally see the MC reach the turning point in her life.

If you’ve read this far, I thank you very much. I hope this has made you love the world of Dragon Raja

You could no longer see Caesar or Chu Zihang, but at this point, you weren’t looking. Your eyes were locked on Chisei Gen. Caesar’s final orders rang in your head like a command from Heaven. Your hands were caked in dried black blood. You were trembling with pain and fatigue, but that last brief surge of Blood Rage had revived your senses enough to stare at him, much like a cat would, eyes dilated and your body flexed. If he moved a muscle, you would draw your weapon.

Chisei watched the flames with resigned calmness however. He was tied firmly and his life was in Caesar and Chu Zihang’s hands just as much as yours was. “MC.” He said. “Where did you learn how to fight like that?”

He’s looking at you now, with the fire reflected in his eyes. His stare was confident. Even though he was asking a question, there was no question in those eyes. No curiosity. It was as if he were asking a question he already knew the answer to.

But how could he know the answer? The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You’d learned how to shoot and hand-to-hand combat from your training in Black Swan Bay. Your training in Black Swan Bay was mostly centered however on your Yanling, focusing your spiritual energy into the ground, learning the limits of your power, how much you could manipulate the earth without suffering physical effects… This was all ingrained into you in a way that bordered on lab experiments with each result meticulously recorded and logged. It was just constant testing and while you were being tested, you learned your power and how to control it.

But Chisei hadn’t seen you use any of that. What he had seen from his vantage point in the mural hall rafters was you, walking out after Caesar and Chu Zihang armed with nothing but the laser sight of a Soviet era rifle and a pistol which you used to bait a member of the Deadpool into attacking their own kind. He observed how closely you could read the actions of the deadpool and how you picked her targets to attack. He heard your giddy laughter echoing on the mural hall walls.

After that, he would have seen clearly how you fearlessly approached that deadpool after she was exhausted, shot her in the head and then used her severed claw as a knife. How you used the non-lethal bullets from your pistol like a fist. How you were using that claw as your only weapon to render these A-ranked super monsters as weak as worms. It was no wonder that he looked at you when he was using Majesty to subdue the deadly and left a few living ones in his trail of mass destruction for you to kill. He had wanted to observe you close up.

When you don’t answer immediately he turns back to observe the fire. “Among the Hydra we have a name for that fighting technique you’re using. It’s called “God’s Eyes”. The heart of God’s Eyes is to subdue the enemy by your understanding of their movements and by your complete control of the battlefield. According to those that describe it, it takes at least a decade to approach mastery of elements of this technique. But you have mastered all of it and you’re so young. I’ve never seen anyone use God’s Eyes like you. You had to have learned from a master… but there are no masters of this technique. Only a few books that reference it or reference other works that describe it. It’s a technique that’s lost to history.”

“There’s only one man I know who can use God’s Eye on your level. And that’s Hilbert Ron Anjou. But you two just met a few weeks ago. Right?”

His eyes watch your face, but you nod, completely innocent, and his eyes narrowed to slits. You just stare back at him. He finally sighs. Whatever theory he may have had about where you learned your technique collapsed.

“Anjou can clear a room with just his pocket knife. Just like you. I don’t know anyone else who can do that.”

You do, of course, but disclosing that involves your deepest secrets and given the huge deadpool tank you found at the bottom of Genji Heavy Industry, you can be excused for not exactly trusting this man with secrets about your past. “Perhaps after this is over, we can talk more. Over sake?” You ask, taking a page from Caesar’s book.

“I would like that.” He sighed again. “I would also like to know how someone like you ended up with these people from Cassell?”

“I ask myself that every day.” Your lips quirk upward.

This was the first time you actually had a moment to sit and talk with Chisei Gen one on one and it actually wasn’t that hard. It took your mind off your pain enough for you to crack a little joke. Chisei lowers his eyes and, much to your delight, he chuckles and your smile grows.

“For my last moments, if these are my last moments… I suppose I could have worse company then these weirdos. My only regret is that Lu Mingfei isn’t here. But knowing him…” You roll your eyes to the ceiling, imagining him flapping his arms and squawking about how much danger you were in. “...nah, I'll take that back. What I really regret is that if we don't make it out of here, he’ll have lost all his friends. I know how that feels. I don’t want him to feel that.”

You rest your head against the wall of the elevator and gaze out into the flames. “Looking back, my life is very odd. Even if you ask me a thousand questions about myself, I wonder if I would even be able to answer a single one. Simple things like… where were you born… Who are your parents? Where did you go to school…?” Your voice trails off. After a moment's thought, you shrug.

Chisei looks at you, silent.

A burst of gunfire and a sudden sharp explosion made you squeak and flinch! This was it, you think, this was the end. Was it really going to end this way? Caesar’s last order was to make sure that Chisei Gen did not touch the elevator door, but he also told you to stop seeking death! You only had your miserable little peashooter pistols, your miserable little claw and your miserable little knife and your miserable laser pointer.

You were suddenly struck with a sudden and intense desperation like nothing you’d ever felt.

You force yourself up to your feet while Chisei Gen sits there astounded. “What are you doing?” Chisei shouts.

Your voice is choked off as you stagger toward the elevator door, groaning with intense pain, but this fierce determination drives you forward. Chisei can now see the full view of your ruined back, your skin-tight combat suit is torn to ribbons where the Deadpool’s claws sank deep into muscle tissue.

Caesar and Chu Zihang were visible again! Caesar held two Sten submachine guns with both hands and Chu Zihang had one. The two back to back were using the bullet screen to suppress the group of deadpool while moving slowly in the direction of the elevator shaft. The group of deadpool that had been overturned by the shockwave of the explosion regrouped, their hideous golden eyes surrounding Caesar and Chu Zihang, the bullets repeatedly knocking them to the ground as they repeatedly straightened up and charged forward. The only thing that protects them is the bullet screen in front of them, and once the screen disappears the group of deadpool will pounce and bite.

You stand in the door, a silhouette in the light of the flame, shoving a magazine into your pistol. Your black hair is being pulled by the intense flaming winds like you were standing right in the breath of a massive creature. You finally relent. You finally gave in. You finally believe the last words of your friend. You finally believe the words of Caesar and the eyes of Chu Zihang.

You have to live!

The pale red columns collapsed one by one. The hot wind and black smoke rampaged through the hall, the frescoes curled in the fire, and the painted dragons and snakes finally flew away in the black ash.

The two rival men were fighting back to back, and the group of deadpool were getting closer and closer, so close that Caesar once passed the barrel of his gun into the deadpool’s open mouth before shooting it out. Chu Zihang stuck his sword and Onimaru in front of him, so if a deadpool got too close he would draw his blade and force it back, and then pick up his gun and fire. But sooner or later the bullets will run out, just like a man holding a torch to scare the wolves would eventually see that torch go out.

So you wait, watching them, hand on your pistol, observing the battlefield with God’s Eyes! You knew how many pieces of ammunition you had and, from your observation of Caesar’s reloading, you could make an estimate of how much he had left. When you determined that they were close to being out of ammo, you raised your pistols and opened fire!

The staccato rhythm of your pistols is like the rhythmic hits of a boxer’s gloves. The bullets strike the sensitive areas of the beasts, their eyes, their open wounds, their burns. They hiss and flinch as though being stung by a sudden swarm of bees. You drop the empty magazine and reload and shoot again and again and again, cursing them with the deepest and blackest of words.

Each bullet was precious, like a drop of life’s blood. You couldn’t waste a single one. You watched the behavior of these monsters. If they reached for your friends, your bullets stung them like the whip of a ringmaster before vicious tigers. If there was even a possibility that they might think twice about doing it again, your quick and painful punishment gave them pause. If they hesitated, you rewarded them by not shooting them. But if they looked ready to pounce you shot them where it hurt.

Your support is just enough to turn the tide. The resistance of the deadpool falters and this time it doesn’t recover. If they rise up they’re either hit by the two men and if they’re not hit by the two men, they’re hit by the pistol fire.

A strange noise like the pop and snap of firewood shifts your focus and your pistol swivels and points at Chisei. “Stay Down!” You roar.

Chisei’s face is a mask of pain. His body was writhing strangely, his joints were all dislocated, and the bones moved independently of each other. It was like his arms had turned into spaghetti!

“I said stay down!” You lower your pistol to his ankle and pull the trigger.

Click. Your eyes widen.

Chisei smirks. “You’re out of bullets. It’s okay…” He grunts. “I’m not going to run. If they want blood…” He gasped. “I’ll give them blood.” Before you could comprehend what was happening, he suddenly freed himself from his restraints by wiggling out of his shirt. His bare chest looks like an ugly bag of broken bones! He cut himself across the wrist with Dojigiri, staining the white fabric of his shirt red. He stood up and walked to the elevator entrance and threw the shirt into the fire.

With that last act, Chisei Gen completely collapsed. You tried to catch him but the action pulled at your wounds and you both went down to the floor. Both you and he had given your all. You let him fall to the floor and just tried to annoy them with your laser pointer while you grit your teeth, but the Deadpool had a far more tantalizing target in mind already. You realize what’s happening, but you can’t pull the unconscious Chisei back into the elevator. You’re so choked with smoke and exhaustion you can’t even call for help.

"What's going on?" Caesar couldn't believe his eyes, the smoking muzzle points to the ground. The guns in his right and left hands stopped firing, but still no monsters pounced on him.

They were about to run out of bullets when the swarm of deadpool suddenly withdrew from them and scrambled to slither up to a corner of the hall. A minute ago they were still a seasoned suckling pig roasting in the fire, and now they suddenly turned into a disgusting slop, and the whole group just left.

"Hurry! Run!" Chu Zihang yelled.

Caesar suddenly woke up. Tight now they do not have time to think about the rationality of this miracle. The fire burning C4 explosives may explode at any time. It was still too early to celebrate. They simultaneously took off running. They shed off every entangling weight, taking off their heavy windbreakers, which still had scattered firearms and bullets in them. There was a loud bang and a searing wind behind them. It was some piece of C4 explosive behind the shaded wall that had exploded. It was so powerful that it completely took the wall down.

The first thing he saw when he cleared the smoke was you struggling with Chisei in the elevator door. His fury spurred him faster. He was coming at you like a raging bull. You couldn’t even begin to explain! Caesar didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and blood exploded from Chisei’s calf.

“Caesar!” Your voice is a useless squeak. Caesar had grabbed Chisei and unceremoniously tossed him like luggage back into the car.

Chu Zihang picked you up and hit the door close button on his way in.

The pain woke up Chisei and he was just about to struggle to sit up when Caesar rushed into the elevator and threw a straight punch at his face.

“Stop…” Your voice is just a hiss, and you realized that you’ve completely lost your voice. Perhaps the heat, the dry air, and your screaming in pain had ruined your vocal cords.

The chain of explosions had already begun. Blinding sun-like lights are lighting up the corners of the hall as waves of hot air swept through at speeds that exceeded those of a hurricane, setting other blocks of explosives ablaze. The old freight elevator squeaked and closed with difficulty, and with a few centimeters left in the doorway, a hot air stream a few centimeters wide burrowed into the elevator, a bright red that ignited the remaining files in the car. But the elevator door finally closed.

It slowly sank into the elevator shaft, and a few seconds later there was a heavenly explosion from above, and a bright wave of air rushed into the elevator shaft, throwing the burning corpses of the deadpool into the void. The snake shadows burned in the fire, their fat dissolved, until gradually the bronze skeletons were revealed. These tyrannical creatures finally were cut off from life, and as they died they gathered around a shirt and shredded it..

As the freight elevator rumbled down, Caesar stomped hard on the burning documents, and then lay down exhausted on the file box, and kicked at Chisei’s face.

“Stop it!” You hiss. But Chu Zihang held you tight and you were far worse off than he was. Turned out that weird period style armor had actually protected him quite a bit. You dug your nails into him but he didn’t even flinch.

Chisei said nothing, powerlessly wrapping a cloth band around the wrist wound. He had cut an artery, and soaked at least a fifth of the blood in his body into the shirt. He made his shirt irresistible to the monsters. The result was that he couldn't even stand up. Caesar wasted no time, tying him up even tighter.

You’re breathing a bit easier now. Instinctively, you take deeper breaths. As your adrenaline lowers, fatigue crashes again like a weighted blanket. Breathing now became agony, but with no voice, no one could hear you moaning. There’s just the strange whistling noise, like the soft whine of a little dog.

"What do we do with this guy?" Caesar pointed at Chisei with the Desert Eagle.

You don’t even lift your head.

"It's naturally best if we can take him prisoner. But it's hard to leave Genji Heavy Industries by ourselves in this situation, and it's even harder to take him away." Chu Zihang said. He tilts his head down to look at you. “She doesn’t seem to want any harm to come to him.”

"How about using him as a hostage threat? There is no way the Yakuza would give up the precious Emperor, right?"

"It's hard to make sure we're not followed, Tokyo is the Hydra Yakuza's home turf, and we won’t be able to escape it no matter how much we run.”

"It seems the best way is to shoot this guy. Sooner or later the Academy and the Hydra family will have to go to war, such a precious weapon can not be left in the hands of the other side. Anyway, his body is flowing with dragon blood, I have to kill him as a dragon slayer!" Caesar pulled the bolt and loaded the gun.

No way! Caesar hadn’t killed anyone this whole time! And now that you’ve come this far and you had fought beside Chisei and he’d saved all your lives, he was going to kill him?

You jerk against Chu Zihang and try to sink your teeth into him. His strong arm tightens. He whispers so softly you can barely hear it. “It’s a bluff.”

In a moment of silence, you hear something else sigh.

There were only four people in the elevator, and you heard a fifth breath!

The side wall of the elevator car suddenly caves in! Before Caesar had time to react, the monstrous bony claws penetrated the sidewall and plunged into Chisei’s ribs from behind! Blood rained down like a fountain on the sneak attacker's face as it let out an ear-piercing scream of joy!

Even Caesar was stunned when he saw the Deadpool, even though they had just stepped out of the hordes of Deadpool that were trying to kill him. This Deadpool was so amazing. It was more than twice the size of the others! The longest of them was over five meters, the shortest was only about three meters, and their upper bodies were about the same size as a human, gradually getting thinner and longer below the waist, before finally taking on the shape of a snake. But this monstrosity is more than eight meters long. Its abdomen is bloated, like a pregnant queen ant. It dragged this overly deformed lower body upward but fell down, so it had just arrived at the mural hall. It became the only survivor. It was attracted by the smell of Chisei's blood and recklessly tore through the elevator car..

This deadpool had the face of a middle-aged woman, and her face was not as pale as the other deadpool. Instead, it was rosy and lustrous, like a woman who had become rounded in pregnancy. Caesar took a glance at its abdomen and suddenly understood. Its snow-white, scaleless abdomen had snake tail-like traces shining through. This was really a pregnant Deadpool and a pregnant deadpool could only give birth to those more fearsome than itself, because the fetal dragon blood would be purer. The fetuses also seem to have felt the freshness of the blood of Chisei and are stirring in the mother's body.

What had been suspected all along was confirmed, the Deadpool was capable of producing offspring, and this bloated, deformed mother's womb was breeding devils!

The Deadpool clung to Chisei, licking the blood excitedly. Chisei clung on to the handrail to keep from being dragged into the elevator shaft. Deadpool's bloated body weighing hundreds of kilograms hangs below the elevator by that single grip.

Chu Zihang presses his hand firmly on your mouth. You wanted to scream in rage, pure frustration and despair. But the monster hadn’t noticed you at all yet. You were too weak to fight this thing. You all were. You said ‘no more sacrifices’ but now you really had no more to give but yourselves, and this monster wanted Chisei. You could get away scot free if you left him behind.

Caesar tried to aim several times in the process of raising his gun, but he had no chance of hitting Deadpool, who was hiding behind Chisei. If he fired, he would first have to injure him, and it was unknown whether the force of the bullet could do that and injure the deadpool. He just fired a shot at Chisei but now he needs to shoot him again. But Chisei is extremely pale from blood loss. He originally had a feminine beauty, and now he looks like a dying girl. His soul is leaving his pale body. If he suffered another gunshot wound, Chisei could certainly die.

This world was so black, so dark, that the minute you started to believe that perhaps Caesar could be right and you could live and you could live with all your friends, that scythe of death came to collect its taxes on your happiness. You hated this world, you hated this life!

Deadpool licked the back of Chisei’s neck with her long tongue. Her sharp teeth are seeking the veins in his neck as she begins to give birth to her babies. The green and white snake-like fetuses fell one by one.

At this time there was a "thump" sound above the elevator, and the speed of the elevator's descent suddenly increased. The elevator filled with boxes of documents was close to the upper limit of the load. The weight of the giant deadpool plus the four of you exceeded the limits of the elevator, not to mention that it was running in the fragile track after the earthquake. It was slamming into the depths of the elevator shaft at an accelerating rate, at which point the Deadpool would of course be smashed to death, and the four of you would invariably be buried with her.

"Shoot!" Chisei yelled with his last strength.

You watched Caesar look into the eyes of Chisei in surprise.

"Shoot me! Hit me in the neck! Its head is right back there!" Chisei spurted out a mouthful of blood.

Caesar gritted his teeth fiercely. He was ready to shoot.

But his fingers were trembling, it was as if the blackness of the world had surrounded him and was pressing in on him, closing in and laughing, mocking him. You stood in that darkness and you could offer no answer. After all, what mercy had the world ever offered you?

A mere few days ago, you wouldn’t hesitate to reasonably make the judgment that sacrificing one person can save everyone, and it's worth doing. But now you stared at Caesar and shook your head. You didn’t want to live in a world without his justice.

You take your bronze claw dagger and stab it into Chu Zihang’s side! Caesar turns at his gasp of pain. You rise up like a lioness to seize Caesar’s wrist and push it upward, pointing the Desert Eagle in the air. You’re face to face with him and bare your teeth.

"’Never leave a friend’ is your justice.” You force the words through your dead vocal cords. Your eyes stare into his eyes and they’re cold and black as the ice sea. “I live for your justice and I will die for your justice!"

Caesar stares for a moment and, for that moment, the cheeks on either side of his face grow gradually pink.

Chisei suddenly smiled. He rarely smiles. His smile is surprisingly beautiful.

"Gattuso-kun, in fact, I have thought about being ...... friend of justice." Chisei let go of the handrail and was instantly sucked into the void outside the elevator car.

Caesar barely prevented you from plunging out there with him in your effort to stop him. He threw you back against the door of the elevator. Your vision exploded into sparks and for a moment you couldn’t move.

“Chu Zihang!”

The elevator suddenly stopped, pressing you to the floor. You blink your eyes open. Caesar and Chu Zihang are gathered by the hole in the elevator wall, shoulder to shoulder. They weren't moving, in fact, they were grunting with great effort. They were backing up from the gap and in their hands was the rope. The rope that he’d tied Chisei up in was being pulled up back into the elevator and attached to that rope was Chisei!

You gasp and crawl forward. He was unconscious, pale like death. His sword was stuck through him, front to back, but he was alive. He was still alive. Caesar looks down at you, but oddly doesn’t meet your eyes. He looks shy, almost embarrassed?

“We need to find a way out of here.” Chu Zihang, ever practical, hands you the claw dagger back. You stare at it a moment and then tuck it in your belt to let Caesar carry you out.

Together, you climb out of the elevator and into the darkness of the shaft, until you take a rest on the beam. Caesar is puffing on a cigar. You’re sitting in Caesar’s lap like a child. Exhausted, you’re turning the bronze colored claw dagger over and over in your hands, watching the play of light on it.

You all sit in silence like this for an hour.

Your head was burning and you felt numb and yet, deep down, the arctic ice that had held onto your soul since waking up at Cassell was starting to fracture and the summer sun was beginning to rise. You rest your head against Caesar’s chest and look up into his eyes.

He lets out a puff of smoke. “You’re not going to fall for me, are you?”

Your eyes narrow and then you huff. “No. I was just thinking…You weren’t going to let me die from the moment we met, right? You stinker.”

Caesar tapped the ash over the edge of the beam. “So you finally get it.”

“Uh huh. I’ll always miss my friends.” Your lip trembles a bit but you once again control it. “But… I think… with you… That’s okay.”

Caesar bit his cigar and grinned. “Glad to hear it.”

You lower your eyes to Chu Zihang who had been tending to his own injuries and was now working on Chisei’s many wounds, while he rested on the beam. “Sorry, I stabbed you.”

“It was impressive.”

You laugh, unsure of how to respond to that.

The building was chock full of Hydra operatives now. You couldn’t leave the elevator shaft yet. They were probably all looking for Chisei so you had to wait for him to wake up.

Chisei started to stir under Chu Zihang’s medical care. Caesar carefully settled you against the wall of the shaft and catwalked over to stare down into Chisei’s eyes. He pulled the last cigarette from his pocket, stuck it in Chisei’s mouth and lit it, the fire illuminating the man’s pupils. Chisei struggled for a moment but he was still in pain and tightly bound.

"The emperor hybrid is really different, huh. A serious wound like harakiri only took an hour to heal. I want to have such a good body.." Caesar moved the lighter closer to his face and illuminated it to Chisei, showing his healing injury. In the next moment, he’d kicked Chisei off the beam. The rope pulled taut where the end was tied and Chisei Gen hung from it.

"Won't you consider untying me?" Gen Chisei smiled bitterly, "It's a little inconvenient to smoke and hang from a rope."

"Not quite. With someone of your low integrity, I still can't believe you. The minute I untie you, you’ll assault us again.." Caesar gripped his cigar, "Let’s just have a good conversation."

"Is the family style of the famous hybrid Gattuso family that shameless?" Chisei exhaled a puff of smoke.

"You call this shameless?" Caesar shrugged, "If you think this is shameless, you haven't met my studly old man." After a few seconds of silence Caesar mumbled. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. At the time I really wanted to escape and leave all you behind. I'm not a friend of justice. I've done a lot of bad things, I've killed people."

"Ghosts?" Chu Zihang asked.

"We call them Ghosts, but they are actually the same hybrid species as us, only more likely to become deadly." Chisei whispered, "To some extent all of us are ghosts."

"The mural is ruined, but we took pictures. Although you do not want us to, we have to take these pictures. The Academy and the Hydra are now in a hostile relationship, and now that the Deadpool group is also finished, your cooperation with us is over, and we all revert to hostile relations." Caesar took a drag on his cigar.

You listen to the conversation and your heart is surprisingly calm when you hear that you won’t be seeing Chisei any time soon. Chisei looks up at you. “I guess we’ll have to make plans for sake later?”

Caesar gives you a look of sharp disbelief.

You stick your tongue out at him. “I meant it as a lady.” But you offer no further explanation. It wasn’t his business.

"Then you have to leave quickly, with my recovery speed, this rope won’t hold me for long.." Chisei smiled again.

"You can’t fool me. This rope can tether an elephant. I also tied it with a sailor knot, so the more you struggle, the tighter it will get. Your body is not as strong as we thought. You super hybrids are slightly stronger than us, but your bones and muscles can not be compared with a real dragon. You might be worse than those deadpool but the minute you release your Yanling you’re defenseless. In short, you're strong, but not necessarily without flaws." Caesar sneered.

"Well, well you guys see through me. What do you want to do with me?"

"It was too difficult to take you away, and, in the end, I decided to leave you here. Your men are looking all over the building for you, but they didn't expect you to be hanging in the middle of the elevator shaft just yet. Seriously, I think that Assistant Sakura likes you a lot, don't you?" Caesar waved his cigar.

"I'm not getting a girlfriend until I leave Japan, and isn't it a bit much to ask a woman like her to give up her life to go to France with me to sell sunscreen?"

"Isn’t that exactly like leaving behind your status as the head of the big family to go to France?"

"I am a person who has done a lot of evil. My hands are stained with the blood of many ghosts, fleeing to France to settle down would be good, I am not going to France, I’m trying to escape." Chisei said leisurely.

"You said you also want to be a friend of justice?" Caesar raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone wants to be a friend of justice when they are children." Chisei said faintly.

"Are you mocking me for still being stuck in a child's state?" Caesar gave Chisei a poke and sent him spinning.

You giggle. It hurt but that struck you as funny.

“What are you laughing at?” Caesar smiles at you.

You reply "Friends of Justice are the words from Ultraman, a cartoon for kids."

"Ultraman?"

"Superman who came to Earth from the universe to help Earthlings fight alien monsters. The heir of the Gattuso family should not have seen that kind of thing. We all watched it when we were kids. In elementary school, kids could be seen discussing which Ultraman was more powerful and saving their lunch money to buy plastic models of Ultraman. Did you do this MC?”

“No,” you chuckle. “I was a Sailor Moon fan. And James Bond fan.”

“Ah…” Chisei sighs. “Ultraman said his fans are friends of justice. We are friends of Ultraman, so we are also friends of justice. The more powerful monsters will be defeated by the friends of justice. Every episode they say that, so as children, we are convinced." Chisei mumbled slyly, "One year school performance, I went on stage to sing the theme song of Ultraman, I still remember the tune ......"

"Beep beep beep,

lots of monsters.

Look behind you,

beasts through the street there,

just to your left and right.

Can't get enough, can't get enough.

Fly one foot and hit three low,

don't presume to fly away.

Who comes from the universe to fight for freedom?

Who will be faithful to defend the world?

It is you, the great friend of justice!"

You clap your hands. “You have a good voice, Chisei.”

This scene is really weird. The big head of the Japanese yakuza and the only emperor hybrid hanging in mid-air singing the theme song of "Ultraman". The heir of the Gattuso family, Caesar Gattuso and A+ blood Chu Zihang, and you, the S-ranked young woman, are his audience. Everyone should have laughed, but no one did. All of you had childhoods that were long gone, and you paid respects to them the same as you would a long dead ancestor.

The song ended and Caesar clapped his hands.

"But I didn't become a friend of justice, I became the bad guy." Chisei said softly, "My friends are bad people. Yasha turned out to be a street fighter. Crow is a loan shark organization's strong man. Sakura is a killer. And I have done a lot more bad things than you can imagine. You might think the Japanese executive bureau is here to maintain order. But more often, it all just ends in bloodshed.. The mob is like this. In this business only violence speaks. The ones who are the most violent are the loudest. We live by doing evil. We belong to a family. We must be loyal to it. For the benefit of the family, we may strike at the innocent. For the benefit of the family we can sacrifice our companions or ourselves. Everyone can be sacrificed so that more people can live a good life. This world is so cruel. I am not Hikari Ultraman.I can not save everyone. If doing evil can make my people live a better life, then I am willing to become a bad guy."

"Bad people can become good, but bad things will never become right." Caesar said.

Chisei made the effort to give Caesar a look, "At your age you can still say such things, Gattuso-kun. I envy you."

"Is that another Japanese style taunt?"

"No, people who strongly believe in justice are happy people." Chisei said softly.

Caesar was silent for a long time and raised his eyebrows: "What a bitter thing to say. But there's no time for your bitterness, I hear footsteps approaching, it's your people looking for you, right?"

"Goodbye then, have a good trip." Chisei said.

"The next time we meet, we'll be enemies again. Can't we say some warm and fuzzy goodbyes?"

"Don't get involved in this. Leave Japan if you can, this is not something you can get involved in."

"That kind of bullshit might as well be Saying Sayonara.”

"Sayonara." Chisei said softly.

"Sayonara." Caesar said, "People who could have been friends end up like this. The world isn't cruel. It’s Bullshit.”

You stare down at Chisei. You want to say something, but you feel like you and Chisei were strangely similar. You were both violent people and trained to be so from an early age. You both felt similarly when Caesar spouted on about justice and being right and good in a world that was cruel.

“Chisei… please don’t give up…” You whisper, but your voice is still hoarse.

“Come on, girl, he’s not worth your time.” Caesar once again lifts you up on his shoulders like a child and starts to climb. But you look over his shoulder. You and Chisei lock eyes as he hangs there in the void and you keep looking at each other until you’re both out of sight.

#Dragon Raja

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tcstu · 3 years

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January’s Honorable Mentions

This month’s piece generated some incredible stories. I chose this work of art believing there were numerous tales buried within it, and I was not disappointed. Each entry took a completely different perspective on what is happening in this scene. If you enjoy one of the Honorable Mentions below, please let the writer know. I’m sure they would love to hear from you.

As a reminder, I celebrated the new year by featuring one of my favorite artists, @hydraart. If you’ve been following this contest, you may remember that this artist was also featured in January of 2019 and 2020. This seems to now be a New Year’s tradition, and I am happy to be able to continue it this year. If you would like to see the pieces previously featured by this artist, you can view them here:

January 2020

May 2019

January 2019

The piece for this month was titled, “Hide and Seek.” Here it is along with the Honorable Mentions for this month:

(These entries are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Untitled

Written by: @emilyelizabethfowl

Ten

She couldn’t tell whether the breeze she felt came from nature or from Its wings.

Nine

At least she didn’t have to worry about the smell betraying her hiding spot.

Eight

Sound, however, was a different matter entirely.

Seven

But her legs were starting to feel numb…

Six

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to move them, just a little, would it?

Five

Just a teeny tiny little bit…

Four

Slowly, carefully, she stretched her left leg.

Three

Then, bringing it back, she stretched out her right one.

Two

But she did it too fast, too carelessly.

One

Losing balance, she fell down. Her elbow knocked into the giant sheet of metal she was hiding under, the sound carrying far.

Zero

Barely seconds later, giant talons dented the metal, ripping it away easily.

Found you!

Aw, shucks.

She stood up, turning to face the creature.

“Best three out of five?” she offered.

It’s already past your bedtime. A deal is a deal.

Ah well. It was worth a try. She climbed the creature’s back, clinging tightly to the feathers longer than she was tall.

She’d win their next game for sure!

“Eleanor And The Great Bird”

Written by: @evanthenerd83

“Do not move,” Eleanor whispers to herself, thin frame curled inward.

The flapping of wings drowns out her panicked breathing. Dust swirls around. Bits and pieces rain down, and they sound like bullet casings striking metal.

Eleanor could recognize the sound anywhere. It is as familiar as her grandfather’s wartime movies. Black and white visions of the dead.

“Do not move,” Eleanor reminds herself, eyes scanning the words scratched into the steel.

The great bird passes overhead, and the entire shard shakes with its might. She bites her lip. A moment of terrible silence.

It is circling around. Coming back.

“Do… not… move,” Eleanor repeats, unaware that it doesn’t matter.

The shelter is just a jagged piece of roof. It isn’t big enough to hide her, not all of her. Not her shadow.

And unfortunately, the sun is burning in her direction.

The great bird has locked on.

The great bird makes one last turn…

Sit Com

Created by @daalseth ( Doug Aalseth )

"Ma!!" came the anguished cry.

"What is it?" replied his mother, her voice drenched in fatigue.

"Billy smashed up my 172 scale model Medieval Human Village."

"Now Tommy..."

"It wasn't me," shouted Billy. "I wouldn't do nothing with your stupid model."

"Yes it was," shouted Tommy waving his wing at the table. "That's your feather laying right there."

"Nuh-huh."

"Uh-huh."

"Nuh-huh."

Their mother rubbed a talon against her throbbing forehead. It was going to be a long day. Maybe it was time to just kick the little bastards out of the nest? She looked at the two chicks arguing. "No," she said softly, "I'll give it one more day."

“Whatever It Takes”

Written by: @winterrose42

I dug my fingers deep into the ground as I curled tighter into myself, squeezing my eyes shut in a vain effort to concentrate. This had to work- in the end it’s all I could do, whatever God that’s left forgive me. I could feel the beast looming impossibly large behind me, breath wuffing over the ruined plains like winds before a storm. A low growl thundered from its throat and I dug harder even as my fingernails protested and bent from the dirt being shoved underneath them. I couldn’t fail. I had to find them, and to do that I needed to make it out alive. To do that…

I felt it suddenly, claws slicing easily into the dirt deep enough that I’m sure someone could make a bomb shelter of it later. The tips of its heavy wings brushed the uneven ground, dragging stone and steel along as they swayed in rest. Feeling the pull of its head was the worst; it had seen me that much I knew, darting from toppled building to ruined tower to hastily put up shelter as fast as my legs could carry me had not been fast enough. It’s great shriek had nearly deafened me as it shook the earth landing just a few yards away from where I had crouched. The few warriors who had gathered to head off the beast- they all knew in their hearts they hadn’t a chance of making it.

That’s what I kept telling myself as the beast’s arm raised and came crashing down to sweep away fallen debris and lean to steel sheets and scattered weapons, armor and men alike, leaving them to try and bury themselves yet again. Collect their wits and reorganize perhaps. I couldn’t afford to give them that chance. Setting everything in motion the wings swept back, the arms came up, the eyes focused forward, sharp beak opening wide with vocal chords straining to make its signature call- and so it was done.

All at once I severed the connection, feeling impossibly small and weak and useless once again as the ground shook like an earthquake with the speed at which the beast fell, screaming its indignation at being puppeted for as long as it had, intelligent eyes snapping forward to those running for better cover, myself sitting still and forgotten for the moment in light of more easily accessed prey. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, whispering out a prayer of forgiveness to carry on the artificial wind for those who cared to hear it.

Eventually the shaking ceased, noise quieted, beast placated if only for a moment making it possible to crawl out and stand up though I dared not turn around. Sticking to the irrational belief that my imagined carnage was worse and therefore I was absolved of blame I squared my shoulders and turned west.

I had survived and would continue to do so through whatever means necessary. I would survive. And I would find them.

Maran-do

Written by: @spoldhamindieauthor (S.P. Oldham)

Maran huddled beneath the toppled roof of a ruined dwelling, sitting now upon the ground, broken and battered. All of the buildings in this tiny hamlet told a similar story; one of destruction and wrath.

Maran heaved a silent sigh. He had sent out Maran-do, his mind partner, when the day was still bright, her task to bring down anyone he had not dispatched. Very few would be daring enough to try to evade her. It would take a remarkable being indeed to slip past Maran-do unnoticed, avoiding her wicked talons. He had never known it happen yet.

Maran-do hung in the air now like a dark, oppressive shadow. She had been the foretelling of death for so many souls, Maran had long since stopped counting.

He had never imagined she would foretell his own death, too. Maran frowned, trying to recall such a thing happening before. What could possibly cause a mind-partner to turn upon its host? It was unheard of.

He knew the tiniest movement would be enough to alert her to his whereabouts. Resisting the urge to break cover and run, Maran struggled with ordering his thoughts. That was the biggest problem. Maran-do was inside his head as well as outside it. She knew his own mind better than he knew it himself.

How could he possibly escape? Wherever he went, Maran-do would go with him. Why had she turned on him? In a rare moment of self-pity, Maran gave a sniff.

It was enough. He could feel the air outside shifting, darkness looming over his hiding place like an unstoppable, oncoming storm. For the briefest instant, Maran felt the terror and utter helplessness so many had known before.

A large talon tapped impatiently before him. Inside his head, the words ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’ blossomed into life like clouds of puffed smoke, Maran-do taunting him with his own phrase.

“Why?” Maran breathed, “Why do you turn upon me?”

More words of smoke, ‘I am to be mind-partner to a greater one than you, little Maran,’ using the childhood endearment, ‘Your mind is weak. You take much pleasure from death and killing. I belong to a greater mind than yours,’ she repeated.

She raised her foot. Maran flinched as, above him, the beams and planks of the rough wooden roof began to splinter. Instinctively he crouched, making himself smaller, as if he could avoid being crushed.

He had just enough time to wonder how she could survive without his mind to host her. Then he was gone; snuffed out like a bare candle in a blizzard.

Maran-do stretched her wings, letting out a silent shriek as her head turned to the west. A new host awaited her, a new name forming in her mind even as she rose from the earth. A path of flight was shown to her fathomless mind, stretching like an umbilical cord across the skies.

Maran was dead.

So was Maran-do.

Tethered

Written by: @wildler

I heard the spirits before I saw them—their strangled moans carrying through the smoke-stained air. Carys whinnied beneath me, her ears twitching in all directions.

“Easy girl,” I murmured, stroking her neck. “Only a little further. Should be the next clearing.”

The sound continued, growing stronger as we pushed closer to where the village was rumoured to be. I tugged the hood of my cloak from my head, sweat sticking my hair to my neck. It seemed my limited healing skills had arrived too late to be of use—but my other skills—well, perhaps I would return to the king with something more substantial than rumours at last.

We entered the clearing, the devastation hitting me like a sword to the gut. Homes had been scalped, gutted and burned. Their charred remains left crumbling into the earth. Spirits inhabited the ruins. Flickers of human outlines that cried out as they relived their violent, final moments of existence. Their fear keeping them tethered to this plane.

I dismounted Carys and pressed my hands to the ground, shuddering as the sweat on my neck turned cold. A haze of panic blanketed the site like thick smoke, making it impossible to get a sense of the events leading to its ruin. I sank my fingers into the soil and focused my will, trying again.

Sounds and smells came rushing at me, distorted screams on a hot jet of air. My eyes sprang open to find the spirits staring in eerie silence, their gaze passing right through me to something on the horizon.

I heard the presence before I saw it—a monstrous shriek carried on a blast of flame. It was an end too terrifying and binding to escape.

And so, I relive it again.

#Honorable Mentions #January 2021 #writeblr #writing community #writing contest #ekphrastic ficiton contest #ekphrastic fiction #January writing #January 2021 Honorable Mentions

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starwarsnonsense · 5 years

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Best Films of 2019 (So Far)

It’s that time of year again! As most of my followers probably know, I’m an avid cinema-goer beyond Star Wars. I also quite enjoy making lists, so what’s better than a combo of the two? Below, I run down my top 10 films of 2019 so far - please note that this list is based on UK cinema release dates, so some of these films were 2018 releases elsewhere.

What are your favourites so far from this year? Let me know in replies/asks!

Honourable mentions: Toy Story 4, Long Shot, Aladdin, Alita: Battle Angel & The Kid Who Would Be King

1. The Favourite, dir. Yorgos Lanthimos

This completely wowed me - it features a trio of magnificently compelling female characters (played by Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone) operating at the court of Queen Anne (Colman is Anne, Weisz and Stone are courtiers), and is focused solely on the shifting sands of the power dynamics between them. The script is savage without sacrificing poignancy, witty without ceasing to be genuine. And while I’ve seen some react to this film as a comedy (and it certainly has laughs, most of which are closely tied to shock), for me it was very clearly a drama about the inscrutable and complicated relationships that exist between women. Specifically, it is about how those relationships run the gamut from sincere affinity to ruthless manipulation. This is an amazing movie, and it also has the best use of an Elton John song in 2019 (sorry, Rocketman!).

2. Midsommar, dir. Ari Aster

I went into this film with reservations, since I wasn’t a huge fan of Hereditary (by the same director), which I found to have extraordinary moments but iffy execution overall. This movie, however, wowed me, and I am still uncertain as to whether this or The Favourite is my top film of 2019 so far (fortunately, this gives me a good excuse to watch Midsommar three or four times in cinemas). While marketed as a freaky cult horror film, the director has described it as a fairy tale, which is the level on which is spoke to me. Midsommar follows Dani (an incredible Florence Pugh), a young woman who has suffered a terrible loss, as she travels with her boyfriend and his friends to a pagan festival in the Swedish countryside. Dani is painfully isolated, and her grief is hers to shoulder alone since her boyfriend is un-receptive and distinctly unprepared to help her. Over the course of the film, destruction and creation are conflated in ways that are frequently beautiful and horrific at the same time - this film spoke to me on a profound level, and the way it ended gave me a sense of incredible catharsis. This won’t be for everyone, for I found it to be a deeply special film and I can’t recommend it enough.

3. One Cut of the Dead, dir. Shinichirou Ueda

While I went into The Favourite with high expectations given the talent involved, I went into this with no expectations whatsoever - and what a treat it was! One Cut of the Dead is easily one of the funniest movies I’ve seen in ears, taking what initially seems like a trite concept (a crew is filming a zombie movie at a desolate location ... only to discover that the zombies are real!) and twisting it in a truly ingenious way. The comedy is often of the broad variety, but it is consistently delightful and always manages to avoid becoming crass - the movie even has some really sweet family dynamics at the centre of it, which gives it some real emotional heft. The success of this film is heavily reliant on a major twist that occurs part-way through, so the best advice I can give you is to stay as far away from spoilers for this one as possible - go in blind, and you will be amply rewarded for your faith.

4. The Farewell, dir. Lulu Wang

I saw this following a wave of festival hype, so while I was excited I was also a bit apprehensive (since I have been burned by the aforementioned festival hype before). Thankfully, my doubts were blown away as this turned out to be just as wonderful as the early reviews had suggested. It’s a personal story about a young Asian-American woman (Awkwafina) struggling to reconcile her heritage with her current situation and values - specifically, she is tested when her grandmother is diagnosed with terminal cancer and the wider family make the decision to hide the truth from her. The Farewell does a fantastic job of generating empathy for all the different perspectives and positions in play, but it’s truly anchored by Awkwafina’s amazingly nuanced and tender performance - basically, anyone who’s ever loved a grandparent should leave this feeling incredibly moved and inspired. The themes of The Farewell are both specific to the Asian-American experience and general to anyone who has struggled with maintaining bonds over a vast distance, whether physical or cultural.

5. Booksmart, dir. Olivia Wilde

God, how I wish I’d had this movie as a teenager! While Booksmart has a cliched premise - two high-achieving teens decide to have one wild night before graduation - it tells the story in an incredibly charming and impressively creative way (I won’t spoil it, but let me just say this - that scene with the Barbies!). As someone who was an awkward nerd with no discernible social life in high school (as you Americans call it), I found this portrayal of that peculiar limbo period very sensitive and thoughtful - it doesn’t mock or shame its heroines for being studious, and it allows them to have limits and step back from situations that make them uncomfortable. It also serves as a beautifully honest portrait of a friendship, depicting the qualities that bring people together in friendship together in the first place, as well as the forces that can break people apart. This is a very accomplished debut from Wilde, and it makes me very excited to see where she goes next as a director.

6. A Private War, dir. Matthew Heineman

This was a very suspenseful and tightly focused film about an extraordinary woman, and the film soars on the strength of Rosamund Pike’s incredible performance as Marie Colvin. She provides piercing insights into the psyche of a person so driven to pursue truth and enact change that she loses all concern for her own wellbeing - it’s simultaneously a portrait of heroism and obsession, and it’s impressive for how it handles the ambiguity inherent in Colvin’s choices. She’s exceptionally brave, but the film is unflinching in depicting the costs of her bravery. It left me feeling inspired to learn more about Colvin’s life and work, and I still need to watch the documentary Under the Wire to get more insight into the real story behind the film.

7. Fighting With My Family, dir. Stephen Merchant

This is the year of Florence Pugh - she killed it in Midsommar, and she is just as fantastic here. If anything, Fighting With My Family and Midsommar make great complements as they serve as fantastic showcases for Pugh’s range as an actor. While her character in Midsommar is fragile and vulnerable, Fighting With My Family is a platform for her strength and comedic skill. As Paige, Pugh is instantly likable and compelling - I don’t give a damn about any form of wrestling, but this film (and Pugh specifically) did a fantastic job of drawing me in and making me root for Paige’s struggle to prove herself as a legitimate force in wrestling. This is a real underdog story, and Pugh did a wonderful job as the Cinderella of the WWE.

8. Apollo 11, dir. Todd Douglas Miller

My dad has always been crazy about the space program, but I hadn’t picked up the bug myself. That changed after I watched this extraordinary documentary, which brought the Apollo 11 mission to vivid life. The footage that’s used for this documentary is extraordinarily crisp, and some moments are vividly powerful - the crew getting into their spacesuits, the swirl of fire surrounding the moment of takeoff, and the journey of the spacecraft towards the moon. It left me feeling moved and touched by human potential, especially when you remember that this all happened 50 years ago when the available technologies were so fragile and primitive. I also loved how the footage was allowed to speak for itself, with no voiceover or exposition - it’s a must-see for anyone who’s ever looked up at the stars and wondered about reaching them.

9. High Life, dir. Claire Denis

This movie is second to only Midsommar in terms of how weird it is. I saw this in a Hungarian cinema while on holiday, which made for a disorientating experience in itself. While the meaning of the film is quite elusive and I’m sure that many people will find viewing it a uniquely frustrating experience, I appreciated how it created a hothouse environment that brought out some of the ugliest aspects of humanity. Robert Pattinson was great as what comes closest to amounting to our protagonist, though he is as inscrutable and inaccessible as the film itself. I can’t quite pin down why I liked this one so much, but I know I did and it made me want to seek out more of Claire Denis’ work.

10. Free Solo, dir. Jimmy Chin & Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi

It’s tragic that most people will only watch this documentary on a TV screen (or, so much worse, a laptop!). I was fortunate enough to see it in its full IMAX glory, and it’s rare to see any film - let alone a documentary - take such full advantage of the format. The woozy spectacle of this film is the real star, though the subject - mountain climber Alex Honnold - is also fascinating with his unnerving detachment from the magnitude of what he is setting out on. It is clearly a necessary detachment for him to be able to achieve what he achieves, but I appreciated how the filmmakers questioned it and explored its impact on his girlfriend. This is a compelling documentary, and is worth watching even if you’re not usually a fan of the genre.

#films #cinema #films 2019 #midsommar #florence pugh #the favourite #one cut of the dead #free solo #high life #apollo 11 #fighting with my family #a private war #the farewell #booksmart

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josukesknee · 4 years

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vanilla ice’s lifetraps... an analysis?

i spent roughly 1-2 weeks compiling this so yes i am posting it everywhere bc i put way too much effort into it.

hallo hallo.

i'm researching lifetraps for a quiz i'm making (and also i just think they're interesting) so... why not force it upon the jojo fandom using an ungodly amount of words?

or, yknow, let's talk about vanilla ice part two: electric boogaloo.

a lifetrap (or schema) is defined as a negative pattern that presents itself throughout our lives. it develops in childhood/adolescence based on our life experiences. one person can have multiple lifetraps. some psychologists say there are 11, some say there are 18. enmeshment, our primary focus, is typically included by those who say 18.

i plan to do this for a few characters. no specific group, just whichever ones i feel like pouring a couple hours into. for this blog, that's vanilla ice. again.

a warning: this blog deals with things you may find upsetting, particularly death, references to domestic violence, and implications of/references to child abuse. stay safe, stay informed, and reach out when you can.

—

disclaimer / spoiler warnings

major spoilers for the entirety of SDC.

i don't condone his actions yada yada yada you have a brain. use it before you lose it.

i am not a psychologist. don't use my definitions on yourself. if you think you identify a little too strongly with one of the lifetraps i describe, you are welcome to do your own research and/or consider therapy.

—

1 | basics of enmeshment

i'd suggest reading this blog if you want a better idea of what i, personally, think vanilla ice's psychology looks like.

so, first: what is the enmeshment lifetrap?

takanen describes it as feeling that you are so connected with your parents or partner, that you have no idea who you are anymore. goodtherapy calls it a blurring of boundaries. it isn't to be confused with dependence, despite their similarities.

some of the things that someone with this lifetrap will experience are:

difficulty disagreeing with parents'/partners' opinions

feeling as if they have no life, but their parent(s)/partner(s) live vicariously through them

difficulty identifying which needs, wants, and feelings are their own

guilt when they do not tell their parent(s)/partner(s) something

lack of independence from parent(s)/partner(s)

lack of distress tolerance

no sense of self

do i need to explain further? ok, i will. don't act so excited about it.

—

2 | past & present: enmeshment

it's clear and emphasized in canon that vanilla ice puts dio on par with what you may consider your respective god(s); again, the blog linked in the beginning of this section will go in-depth on why i believe this, but dio is very likely similar to a part of his own identity. their identities are enmeshed in vanilla ice's mind.

vanilla ice's entire 'thing' is his devotion for dio, but... is it entirely devotion, or is it partially enmeshment? do we see anything of vanilla ice that isn't linked to dio? no, we don't; even his fury is because dio has been insulted. was it vanilla ice's desire to eliminate, or was it dio's? i think we all know who planted that seed.

and in comparison, the others in dio's crew had far bigger chances of having personal motivations that weren't solely about dio, or it's explicitly stated that they do (ex: hol horse is in it for cash); vanilla ice did not. his motivations were only about dio and where araki could've given us something to supplement that, could've given us a snippet of backstory, he didn't. maybe it wasn't intentional, but it happened, and i think it was.

we also have to ask what kind of person gets so attached? what kind of guy is vanilla ice, i mean, he's kind of intense all around, but who hurt him? enmeshment offers a pretty solid answer for that: probably his parents!

side ramble incoming.

a lot of your behavior develops based on your relationship to your parents/caretakers when you're young — anger, to name one — as do attachment styles.

vanilla ice's obsessive, co-dependent behavior likely began in his early life. following the theory i began before about him potentially being abused, forcing one into co-dependency gets just about every abuser off. it's how they trap their victims, including children who already depend on them for everything.

in an enmeshed parent-child relationship, there's a distinct lack of boundaries and privacy. children are brought up to feel guilty for attending to their own needs before others'. i would personally call it a breeding ground for child abuse.

unchallenged, this type of relationship will become what vanilla ice considers normal and healthy, and he may very well repeat and seek out this dynamic in every relationship thereon, which we can assume he does. one possibility after a childhood like i described is the person purposefully seeking out partners who require their care and protection. this could serve as a solid reason for vanilla ice following dio.

people also tend to have troubles regulating their emotions, which... well, y'all know what happened.

—

3 | basics of subjugation

enmeshment isn't 100% accurate, nor is it likely the only lifetrap our subject finds himself in. so what other schemas is he likely trapped in?

subjugation is the feeling that you must please loved ones, colleagues, friends, and even strangers.

people who experience this lifetrap often allow others to control them so that they can avoid consequences such as anger and abandonment. they have an excessive build-up of anger that can leak out in the form of passive-aggressiveness or surprisingly aggressive temper tantrums, of the which vanilla ice exhibits the latter. they tend to attract dominant, bossy people who will dictate how they feel, behave, and think, a profile that pretty accurately describes dio.

it's essentially people pleasing, but one seeks less approval, more basic human interaction.

why does this lifetrap develop?

—

4 | past & present: subjugation

people develop the subjugation lifetrap early on, typically due to their parents. the typical behavior of the parents of a subjugated individual lines up nicely (unfortunately?) with those of enmeshment.

we'll focus on the traits that line up most with vanilla ice. going with the assumption that he has anger issues, it's very likely that his parent(s) lashed out on him when he did not follow orders. that could contribute to both of the lifetraps i've mentioned here. control and guilt-tripping are also vital parts of abuse: they contribute to subjugation as well. one parent may have been the abuser and one the abused, as the abused would likely serve as an example of subjugation for vanilla ice to follow.

another thing to consider is that subjugation can form out of having to be the caretaker to family members since the parents were not around enough to do so (think dean winchester, if you will). food for thought, considering his role as a protector is presumably all he lives for.

which brings me to my next point. there are two types of subjugation: self-sacrificing or voluntary, and submissive or involuntary. this is where it gets complicated for vanilla ice.

an abuse victim would likely fall under submission out of fear, and it's pretty obvious the guy went through some variation of it. but with his relationship to dio and canon context, voluntary submission seems more likely.

i'd have to know the specifics of how they met and how he came to follow dio to be able to give you guys a solid guess as to which it is, but voluntary has more canon evidence behind it. their relationship could be viewed as either/or. at the end of the day, it's all up to your personal interpretation, especially of dio.

—

5 | cream's significance

how about something a little lighter and more palatable? let's talk about vanilla ice's stand, cream.

cream is basically a walking/floating void, waiting to destroy and swallow everything up. god, that is a sentence i never thought i'd type. anyways. let's pretend araki intended for some rando to make this psychological reach.

the void is the unknown. even vanilla ice himself says that he doesn't know where things go once they're inside his stand. vanilla ice being so unfamiliar with his own stand's ability makes the perfect reference to enmeshment, in the same way that cream's blind destruction references its user's blind anger.

in enmeshment, vanilla ice's own identity would be beyond him, just as what really lays beyond his stand's maw. his identity is a void filled with dio this and dio that; he knows nothing about himself and likely never has.

—

6 | other lifetraps

here are some others that i don't feel like expanding on or for which vanilla ice does not fit the criteria to a T.

insufficient self-control: pretty self-explanatory, very aligned with the aggressive behaviors of a subjugated individual. lack of boundaries, increased risk of addiction. tends to be attracted to demanding, disciplined, systematic partners. difficulty regulating emotions/thoughts.

punitiveness: tendency to be very harsh on yourself and punish yourself when you act incorrectly. one could interpret him blaming his anger on others as punitiveness, as others are targeted as well by a punitive's critical nature. not really seen in canon, but it's a very common trope in fanfiction (trust me... i've been in all the crevices of vanilla ice fanfic lol). this trap seems as if it would go hand in hand with pessimism, but don't quote me on that (or any of this blog, really).

—

conclusion

your takeaway? well... i just really like getting in this dude's noggin. i think i'm trying to compensate for something! but i'm not here to psychoanalyze myself. also sorry i 100% repeated/used random dividers, there are like 5 different screenshots of vanilla ice on the internet and they are all low quality lol

thanks for reading. let me know other psych related things you'd be interesting in seeing from me. i enjoy writing these psych heavy blogs a lot (more than art or anything else, tbh).

—

sources

• prior psych knowledge • lifetrap test* • lifetraps and basic psychological needs** • enmeshment • 18 early schemas defined • subjugation lifetrap • jojo's bizarre wiki

* = this site was translated to english and wording may be incorrect, as some of the grammar is certainly questionable, but it's comparable to other sources.

** = this is a PDF. your browser may automatically download this file if you open it on a phone. some phones cannot open PDF files.

#jjba #vanilla ice jojo #analysis #stardust crusaders #jojos bizarre adventure #anime

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mrlnsfrt · 3 years

Text

True to Myself?

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, And in sin my mother conceived me. - Psalm 51:5 NKJV

This post is not meant as an attack on anyone, it merely represents my current place in my personal journey. If you disagree with any of my points I am open to dialogue, I love to learn and grow. Once again, the views expressed in this post are my personal views.

Who am I?

I remember when I was in middle school I bought a paperback book entitled “who am I?” quiz book. I saw it in one of those Scholastic catalogs we would get at school and ordered it. I found the book and took a picture of it so you can see what I am talking about.

The book is divided into six parts.

The Inside Me

The Outside Me

What Are My Talents

How Do I Deal with Family and Friends?

How Do I Act with the Opposite Sex?

How Do I See the World and How Do I See Myself Fitting into It?

The back cover of the book says

“Here’s a book full of quizzes to help you find out all about the most important person in your life — you! Find out about the inside you, the outside you, your talents, and how you get along with your family, friends, and the opposite sex. Score yourself to find out how you measure up!”

Those of you who remember the early days of Facebook and even MySpace probably remember the quizzes people used to share. The quizzes would have titles like “Which Superhero Are You?” or something along those lines. Buzzfeed has quite the collection of useless quizzes to waste your time. But Buzzfeed would not waste time energy and resources in creating something completely useless. So why do they have so many quizzes about everything under the sun? My guess is that Buzzfeed does that for the same reason it does everything else, to get your attention, your time, and of course, your clicks.

So where am I going with this? Apparently, we are fascinated with ourselves and our mysteries. Many turn to their sign (astrology), their DNA, their family tree, online quizzes, personality tests, IQ tests, etc. We want to find out who we are, what we are like, what our strengths and weaknesses are, what we love and what we are good at among many other things. Clearly, I am in no position to point fingers since I spent some of my hard-earned money as an early teen buying a paperback quiz book that promised to help me figure out who I was.

I believe that there is value in taking time to figure ourselves out. I believe we should be familiar with what we enjoy and what we would rather avoid, what we are good at and what we struggle with. I believe that personality tests, etc. have their place. I am often concerned about self-improvement and I greatly value feedback. I understand that too much of this can be unhealthy, so I try to limit it to asking my leadership team to fill out a pastoral ministry evaluation form once a year. I want to know if I am improving, I want to know what I am doing well, I want to know what I could do better.

I guess this approach means I have a growth mindset. I do not believe that I am the best version of myself and that I can become better. I think I also annoy my wife a bit with this since I ask her how I could be a better husband fairly often. It is probably not very endearing to hear your significant other asking you, “So on a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate my performance this last month?” “In which areas of the home life do you wish I was more involved?” etc.

I share all this as a way of recognizing my personal journey which shapes my view of life. I share this hoping that you can understand where I am coming from. This view of myself is deeply shaped by my personal theological views.

Fallen Human Nature

I believe that our core humans are not good, kind, and loving. I believe that at our core even our kindness is shaped by some selfish desire and only God can change that in us.

“The heart is deceitful above all things, And desperately wicked; Who can know it? - Jeremiah 17:9 NKJV

One of the reasons we seek these quizzes is because who we are is not obvious to us. We can lie to ourselves, which also renders these quizzes inaccurate. That’s why the above passage from Jeremiah is so significant to me. The practical way that I apply this verse in my personal life is that I distrust myself. I seek God for guidance, strength, wisdom, and help. This understanding of my natural state, as one that is fallen, causes me to not look within myself for the solution, but rather to God.

Here are the two verses that come before the one quoted above.

“Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, And whose hope is the Lord. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, Which spreads out its roots by the river, And will not fear when heat comes; But its leaf will be green, And will not be anxious in the year of drought, Nor will cease from yielding fruit. - Jeremiah 17:7-8 NKJV

According to these verses, when I trust and hope in the Lord, everything will turn out okay. My trust should not be in humans, including myself, my hope does not come from what I see, but is ultimately established in God. When I look inward I find reasons to lose hope. I find the words of David recorded in Psalm 51 very appropriate.

Have mercy upon me, O God, According to Your lovingkindness; According to the multitude of Your tender mercies, Blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, And cleanse me from my sin.

For I acknowledge my transgressions, And my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, And done this evil in Your sight— That You may be found just when You speak, And blameless when You judge.

Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, And in sin my mother conceived me. - Psalm 51:1-5NKJV

I strongly recommend reading the entire chapter. David wrote this when he was confronted regarding his sin of adultery and murder. David could have made excuses, he could have simply had the prophet who accused him killed, instead, he repented and recognized that he was sinful, he was guilty, and in desperate need of forgiveness.

One of the principles that jump out at me from Psalm 51 is that David did not blame God for his sin, or for the temptation that led to his sin. He could have argued that he was born that way, that he was attracted to the woman, and that he was simply following his heart, that he was simply being true to himself. Yet David recognizes that he should have controlled his urges, that he should control his attraction and not the other way around.

Look at what Paul had to say when he wrote to the Ephesians

And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience, among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just as the others. - Ephesians 2:1-3 NKJV

What I take away from what Paul is saying here is that a life dedicated or guided by the lusts and desires of the flesh goes against God’s plans. What is this flesh? Paul seems to label our internal desire that goes against God’s will as being from the flesh or carnal, as opposed to being from God or the spirit.

True to Myself?

I will try to illustrate this by looking at a challenging passage from the Bible.

For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin. For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do. If, then, I do what I will not to do, I agree with the law that it is good. But now, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells; for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. For the good that I will to do, I do not do; but the evil I will not to do, that I practice. Now if I do what I will not to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me.

I find then a law, that evil is present with me, the one who wills to do good. For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man. But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? I thank God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!

So then, with the mind I myself serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin. - Romans 7:14-25 NKJV (bold mine)

What I take away from Paul’s writing is that he is struggling. He wants to do things that he knows to be right, things that are in accordance with the law of God. Yet it feels like a battle because his body seems to want to do things he does not approve of, things that go against the law of God. I wonder if anyone reading this can relate to Paul’s struggle. You are aware of your duty, of what is right, but you don’t always feel like doing it. Sometimes you feel like being dishonest, choosing violence, not forgiving, getting revenge, cheating, stealing, lying. So what do you do in these circumstances?

If I want to be true to myself, which self do I choose? The self that recognizes God’s will or the self that rebels against God’s will for my life? If I insist that when I break God’s laws I am doing so in the name of being true to myself, does that make it okay?

Just to be clear, you are free to make your own choices. I am simply trying to convey that both choices or paths are not equal. Everyone is free to choose their own path. Any path is bound to have its share of struggles and difficulties. There is no easy path. But there is one path that God calls us to.

Here is how Jesus puts it:

“Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it. - Matthew 7:13-14 NKJV

Some seem to believe that the life of the believer should be one of ease where all problems and difficulties simply evaporate. But I have yet to see one Bible hero who had an easy life.

Jesus also said,

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul? - Matthew 16:24-26 NKJV

Jesus poses some important questions. Essentially, you are free to do whatever you want with this life, however, just doing whatever you want, the selfish and easier road will not lead to the best possible outcome. Eternal life is a gift from God and He gives it freely to those who choose Him above all. That means choosing God even above our personal desires. Following Jesus means doing His will even when it is difficult, or especially when it is difficult. You can choose to live for yourself, you can chase all that you want and become very rich, but what good will all the wealth in the world if it costs your eternal life? As Jesus put it “ For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?“

People around you may be all about being true to themselves, but I would argue that we should be more concerned about being true to God. Jesus calls me to deny myself, but this does not mean I cancel myself out. This means that whenever I have to decide between doing what I want and what God wants I should always choose what God wants. What God did for us, what He does, and what He is willing to do cannot be compared to anything this world has to offer.

Here is how Paul sees it,

But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 3:7-14 NKJV

My Truest Self

I would like to propose to you that we find our truest selves in Jesus. It may feel like our desires to rebel against God represent our true selves, because it feels easier, it feels more natural, and following God feels unnatural, feels difficult. But I would argue that the temptations feel natural because we live in a fallen world that is in a state of rebellion against God. However, God will one day make all things new, perfect just like they were before sin (See Genesis 1-3 and Revelation 21-22). So even though it feels like going against the current to be faithful to God, I choose to be faithful to God, by the strength He provides me through His Holy Spirit, because I know that God’s plans for me are much better than even the plans I have for myself.

For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for prosperity and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. - Jeremiah 29:11 NASB

#identity

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paganchristian · 3 years

Photo

Well, I like this picture of my cat, with his tongue curled, so that’s why I’m posting it. Coincidentally I just noticed that there’s some bucket with a picture of it looks like the three wise men, in the corner behind him. I don’t have a ready interpretation of that as having any significance, but maybe it would if I tried, to find it. Or just found meaning whether it was “meant to be”, regardless. And when I am analyzing things for possible signs, I look at all kinds of random details. That is just one potential one that pops out at me. Sometimes I will analyze or go into meditative states and see what signs seem to pop out at me from whatever and wherever, or from particular things, that seem to be more fluid and abundant in the signs and feelings that they give to me. Like, pictures, personal photographs of ours, that is one thing. Anyway, ..

The tongue-curling, well, I call it that but maybe it’s something else, not quite a curling tongue, but it’s cute. Curling your tongue, it reminds me of childhood as my sister could curl her tongue but I could only partially curl mine and it seemed as if she was happy that she could do that better than me, if I recall correctly. Lol

Anyway the silliness of making faces, and again here we are at childhood themed stuff, a recurrent theme for me.

I am thinking of that because to me, it needs to be reminded of again and again and again because I keep on veering into the zone of worrying and thinking too Much! I can worry again, what of my salvation or Hell, I can worry, what about my family and loved ones and my daughter’s salvation or Hell, and I can worry about all of the things that I think that these Christians in these groups I’m drawn to might think.. I can worry how they might condemn or argue or debate over this or that with me, if they were to tell me how they saw my life, my thoughts, my feelings and my experiences, my interpretations and so on. I can think of all of the taboos I break that might send me to Hell in their eyes. I can think about all of the criticisms I would make that might make me a big problem to them, an outsider, intruding, stirring up conflict. But I can think of how I seem to need to express my problems I have with the things they do, because if I don’t’ do that then I feel repressed, self-destructive. I need to talk about the harm that these things are causing my heart and mind and soul, so that I can think it out. In the secluded, sequestered cloister of my own soul and my heart and my prayers to God, there is not enough conscious articulate awareness. I am trapped when I keep things there.

But even these people say you need a spiritual guide, to tell all to, when you have conflict and confusion. So they admit the need to talk things out. But I will not do that, that is, have such a one-on-one spiritual guide as they say you need, for one, because I’m not even a member of any kind of church, where you would find your guide, nor do I feel I should be a member of the church either, because I don’t agree with all of the rules or beliefs that they require, and nor follow the rules they demand enough to belong there. And I also don’t need a spiritual guide because I feel like it is very confining, and repressive, suffocating and controlling, the role it puts you in, if you have to depend on one person for all that, and if that person doesn’t really understand you and respect you and care about you and have compassion for you, if your situation goes way beyond what they can comprehend and know how to deal with, then you are likely to be judged, given wrong advice, given simplistic answers. I don’t need that yet again, as my weird situation has over and over again been the source of great pain when I tried to seek others’ input, and they wrongly judged and wrongly advised me, and if you place all of that pressure and expectation upon one solitary person, it’s way too much build-up and commitment to someone who you’re just assuming will understand and be able to care for you in the way you need, and not actually harm you instead, as everyone else has done. Some helped me, but mostly everyone has harmed me as much as they helped or harmed me way more than they helped me.

Anyway, I just want to forget all this feeling that I need to think and worry about that, any of that. Can’t I just think about practical obvious real world grounded life? Of course, and I think that is really what God wants me to do right now. I have health problems and my family does too, and I can address them to the best of my ability. I can try to think of how to connect to family members so that neither one of us is as lonely and isolated, and so that I will hopefully take small steps to learn, bit by bit, how to be more social, so that I can also have that skill for whenever I might need it in my life in the future, and I’m not completely isolated from every person who is not in my immediate family. I can teach my daughter the social habits and mannerisms and views and skills I gain. So that she will learn how to make the most of these things and not just be one more isolated, self-absorbed, lonely person who cannot find any way to connect to others. Who can find what to appreciate and find what there is in common that is truly relatable and worthwhile. Not that awkward feeling of forced and painful seeking solace and validation in others, when it’s not authentic and not true. Not that because that leads to a worse kind of loneliness that just being alone, oftentimes. But in spite of all the differences and the lack of ability to relate, still being able to find something that makes interacting worthwhile and meaningful and rewarding so we’re not so totally alone in this world, and so we have more than just our immediate family, who after all might not always be there one day.

What is it that makes me feel like I need to settle all these debates and these crises and dramas and threats regarding religion and spirituality? I think it’s only the voices of echoed memories of things I’ve read and heard and been told, that others have said, don’t do this, you can’t do this, you must do this, or you will be lost, you are wrong, you will go to Hell, etc, etc. And I should know that I have to live my actual life and I can’t get lost in these never-ending debates while my life goes astray or gets stuck in degenerating cycles, where I can’t get anywhere because there is no one to talk to, no clear answer, no honest straightforward discussion of my points, not the time and emotional and mental energy to think it all through, anyway.

I just have to remember how to let it all go. But excessive prayer and spiritual reading do not help me with that, at all. I seem to need to deeply distract myself from the majority of religious stuff, and only keep a bare minimum of practices.

Every day is so full of miracles, signs, coincidences, and special, unique moments. Rare things happen all of the time, every day, to everyone. But each rare thing only happens rarely, just like the many wildflowers blooming and so on, each blooming only a short time. But because we realize they’re ordinary, because they’re not totally unheard of, we shove them aside, as if they’re not very important and yet that is where I find all of my inspiration, all my signs, usually. In things that appear so ordinary even though they’re not as ordinary as they seem, at all, if you look at all the connecting coincidences, associations and synchronicities going on, all the different events that happen in a short time, in my mind, my dreams, my feelings and thoughts and ideas and little things that happen in my life and they all start to connect, in so many ways. Ways that are easy for someone to deny because they could just be coincidence but when you accept that coincidence can be meaningful even if it seems likely and not that rare, then you at that point, you have opened the door to a great world of wonder and joy and amazement, ideas, and insights that can change everything in your existence.

So why can’t I just let God talk to me like that? Why can’t I just let God talk to me through the feelings, the dreams, the visions and psychic impressions, and let that be his gift and guidance, in addition to my constant prayer, without going more formally into all the practices and beliefs they say I have to follow?

And the only reason shy I couldn’t do that would be is if I agreed to go along with what they say. What humans have made into traditions over time, and rules and so forth. And though they say it’s all God’s rules, and God’s demands he put on us, well, how can I assume such? When following those very rules is trapping me into a feeling of dissociated anxiety that prevents me doing real things that are good for clear, important actions of love and caring? When escapism and playfulness and daydreaming are healing me way more than prayers and religious practices would? Then what? I guess that is up for me to decide, because it is my life and I am the only one who can decide what I’ll believe about what I should do, and how, and why, and when.

What I can do, or can’t do, can believe or can’t believe. Even when I’ve asked God to help me believe and help me do these practices and it’s not working very well and he instead seems to be telling me to go do my escapist things, to just have fun. And I pray all the while I’m doing these fun and escapist things, so it’s not like I’m leaving God behind. God is in the fun and escapism and daydreaming.

It will have to be ok, for now, because I think I will drive myself crazy and waste a horrifying amount of time if I try to worry about all the ways I’m supposedly wrong and must follow rules according to certain Christians, but can’t follow them. No I just can’t let my life fall apart while I worry about such things.

I feel like maybe the reason that religious rules are so rigid is that people are creatures of habit. They are easily distressed if their rules and patterns are disrupted and so they create rules to represent their habits they want or choose to follow. It doesn’t need to make total sense or work all the time, it just needs to be a consistent habit for them. And then, the reason they get so upset when they see others doing differently or when they hear others arguing against their rules is because it makes them start to feel doubt over their habits. They really want to cling to those habits and they can’t stand doubt to be cast on them. People are so fragile, so easily upset in their sense of self-image and personal sense of purpose and validity, thinking they have a right to be the way they are, or thinking they are good enough, as so on. When someone starts to do things differently, they are so fragile, they start to think that if that person is doing things differently, maybe my way isn’t good and theirs is the better or the only good way. But when people have developed rigid habits, and they prop up their religious and moral identity on them, they are very fragile if they feel that someone’s different way of doing things might be better and might show that their way is wrong. I think that this also might account for the rampant conformity and judgmental attitudes and us vs. them mentalities that are so prevalent in human societies, even over things that absolutely don’t make any sense at all. So you have people getting all uptight over the way others’ dress and it’s not a matter of say, indecency or offensiveness, or anything, or you have people who are judgmental about all kinds of trivial things and get very cruel and divisive over these things.

Then funny thing is that I see this behavior in my daughter, or rather, I see the insecurity that she has, when we do things differently or ask her to do something differently or ask shy she did something a certain way, and it’s not even like we are at all judgmental or harsh. We are extremely respectful, open minded, understanding, positive, supportive parents and have always been and she is not around another negative input in that way. We are both weird, too, and not conformists in our ways of acting so she’s not learning that from us either, and we aren’t around anyone else who would affect her in that way.

I think it’s an instinct, to be overreactive to these things and insecure. I have been noticing behaviors like this among others too, and how people oftentimes seem to easily upset and disrupted in their beliefs, their feelings, and their attitudes, and the least little thing from others makes them feel insecure or offended or hurt or confused, and so that might explain why religions sometimes are so controlling and fixated on every little detail of peoples’ lives even when those rules don’t always make sense or work and aren’t even possible. And why some of these religious groups try to stamp out dissent and threaten you if you dare criticize anyone. Because they are scared the sense of unity and harmony and confidence will be disrupted and people will lose their fragile sense of confidence in the religions.

It’s repressive, but so are people’s mindsets and they can’t handle the least rocking the boat, and I on the other hand feel like I’m living in a stormy sea and my boat can’t not rock, but I don’t fit in with those who have to have all these rules. I have to make my own rules or guidelines. Maybe I do recall times in my life when I had a greater need for that kind of conformity and unity of identity and behavior with the others in my group, because I was so lost and confused but that was signal to me of what to do, what to think, what to believe and what to feel, when I was totally at a loss otherwise. But now I can’t do it anymore. My life demands a much more individualistic, outside the rules and lines approach. I would become extremely mentally ill or even lose my mind, and make myself miserable if I even tried to be so silent and conforming and so approving and positive to the things that cause m great harm and need to be spoken openly about, even if only in the privacy of a blog that is still not completely private, so I feel like I'm not suffocated into total submission and repression, as if my human life and reality did not need and deserve to be cared about or noticed and given a voice, among other humans.

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sonicringbond · 3 years

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Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 18

And here we are with Scene 18 arriving. And if you didn’t guess already who came back last scene, this scene will reveal who it is. I wonder how everyone will react. But enough of me babbling, let’s keep this short today and get everyone strait into...

Scene Prompt: Rosy finds a flower-shaped (rose maybe) crystal ball.

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From outside the ruins were unremarkable buried in the dessert crags and growing sandstorm. Within as the travelers and sightseers were led in through a dark unmarked corridor, Rosy was afforded time to be amused before the ruin revealed itself.

~It’s kind of funny really. I came out because of a rumor I heard, yet it just seems like people were confused. If no one had really been out here that much they wouldn’t have tour guides. Still, it’s nice that I don’t have to watch out for traps, but it is a little less exciting not exploring an unknown ruin. Or at least it sure seemed like that was going to be the case.~

“Oh~ It’s a Ring Gate Beacon,” Rosy remarked, and was fortunate her knowledge of Rings was not heard over the gasps of her fellow travelers.

~It was not what I was expecting at all. Though my amazement wasn’t because of the shifting ceiling of blocks. The blocks with the lines of light on them were a normal sight in a Ring Gate beacon and wasn’t really any different from the one on Zooey’s airship, the Skyskipper. Well, it was a lot bigger and had all sorts of side rooms. There also didn’t seem to be any control panels to make Ring Gates connect to other beacons. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising though since there are plants everywhere. Tee-hee! There are even trees growing in here so this place hasn’t been used since well before we could use them. Or at least back home. It’s hard to use a Ring Gate if you’re scared of it.

~Walking around the massive beacon though the rumors the other travelers were still talking about became easier to connect to the crystal rose. Ring Gate Beacon’s obviously are powered by Rings and that means Rings pass through them a lot. With all the trees and other plants growing inside it made sense that there would be Rings too. Lucky for everyone else I was here, and even though I’d get smacked the next time I visited a town with those mean priests I could at least try to make things easier on them. How? By collecting all the Rings of course!

~It seemed like a good idea, but I may not have thought it through, hee-hee… Everyone was already on edge, so seeing the Rings that should have been floating around not being there… Well, they didn’t see me at least, though something caught everyone’s attention all of a sudden.~

“You! What are you doing there!”

Within a chamber where the geometric lines that glowed on the ever-shifting blocks of the Ring Gate Beacon had reached the floor as well the walls, one of the tour guides shouted and brought Rosy’s little side endeavor to an end. The tour guide was not the only one to shout out in surprise, however.

“Is it the Ring Striker?”

“It couldn’t be, could it?”

“It could be, this place should be full of Rings, but it’s not. It’s the perfect place for them to attack.”

“Not this again,” Rosy sighed to herself with a shrug. The continued mention of the now tiring rumor of the Ring Striker was enough to almost make Rosy ignore the crowd of sightseers as they started shouting. But the shouting and mention of a person left her ears turned towards them and her curiosity piqued. “Rings aren’t dangerous, so I doubt this jerk is either.”

Pushing her way through the crowds and wearing an irritable look Rosy froze as she came into view of the mysterious entity who had caused a stir in the tour guides. They were slightly taller than someone who stood a meter tall, or at least measured to the shoulder where a massive cog served as the collar for a set of flowing purple robes. Rosy had seen that collar before as well as the massive bracelets around the individual’s wrists. The rod with the half cog head in one hand and a clear crystal rose in the other were new, but not the three quilled echidna head of perfectly smooth white stone. Rosy had seen it as well, a prisoner alone deep underground, but the glowing blue eyes that watched her from it now where lifeless then.

“It couldn’t be, not that statue. Then, it was another golem?”

Finally joining in the confusion of the crowd she accompanied, Rosy no longer stood out save her attire. Or so she would not have if she did not become the focus of the golem echidna as it turned its back to an altar of the shifting blocks of the beacon. Then, the golem spoke with a familiar voice.

“Ah, so like the other rabble you were drawn by the ‘treasure’ held here child.”

“That voice! You were with us in the truck! But… you’re a…”

“A golem,” the golem finished for Rosy. “That is correct. One woken from a long slumber by the power of a Red Star Ring. And one whom seeks his dear friend.”

“You’re nothing but a thief!” One of the tour guides cut in while pointing an accusatory finger at the golem’s hand that held the crystal rose.

“You are mistaken,” the golem corrected the tour guide. “It is the right of Pir’Oth to make use of this gem. Or perhaps in this time I have come to be known as Ix. Regardless, I and I alone have the right to walk this sacred ground. The trespasser and thieves who wander these halls are all of you!”

Twirling his staff, Ix slammed the unadorned end into the ground causing it to splinter and crack like a spiderweb. In response Rings burst forth as though cast from a fountain and flowers of golden light bloomed from the motes chasing them. Though he moved to attack, Ix again addressed Rosy, a momentary exception in his blue glowing eyes and the now glowing petals of the crystal rose.

“You though child spoken to by the gods, I shall take of you your bond to them and allow your soul to rest forgiven for your trespass.”

As the rings met the flowers of light no one was prepared for the golems that rose around them, tearing themselves from the stone floor that gave birth to them. There was little one could do to defend themselves as their arrival stole any stable footing away. And yet despite the terror and panic, someone still shouted out in further horror.

“It’s the Ring Striker!”

Lunging towards Rosy, Ix held a ring suspended before the head of his staff. His intentions were unknown to all, but Rosy simply puffed up her cheeks and balled up her hands into fists. “You’re being a jerk!”

Ix’s glowing eyes widened as Rosy suddenly disappeared from before him. Skidding to a stop to not waste the ring, he looked about to spot where the pink hedgehog girl could have vanished.

“It could not have been a Ring Gate; the beacon would have responded?” The sound of crumbling stone around him alerted Ix to what he sought, and his stone eyes continued to widen in disbelief. “Impossible!”

The flowers that powered the golems returned as the sparkling seeds of light released from their destruction touched the ground. Standing up from their stony remains, Rosy looked back at Ix and puffed up her cheeks further and redder. “I thought you said you weren’t a bad guy!”

“How?” Ix asked in shock, Rosy’s question lost on him. “I thought you but a simple child with the favor of the gods.”

“Because Sonic shared with me the ability to be a hero,” Rosy answered trembling. Whether she was angry, terrified, or perhaps both, it was obvious that her emotions fueled her trembling. The sight was anything but heroic regardless, which in itself spoke of her courage to act. Ix however was less concerned for Rosy’s heroics as he was her words.

“Do you speak of the sacred Ring Bond?”

“What? You know about Ring Bonds! But how? Sonic is the only person–!”

A terrible realization dawned on Rosy and obvious horror weighed down her features. Ix spoke again though before she could form her realization into words.

“Only him? Then Ring Craft is truly lost in this age. What has become of this world during my slumber? I must find out.”

“I won’t let you if it means attacking people. You can’t do that, it’s wrong!”

“What is wrong child is the state of this world, and that I could not best a child. Yet surely you are not the adversary your cards spoke of.

“Consider yourself fortunate child,” Ix proclaimed as he fiercely strode away from the short-lived battle. “You have saved the lives of these trespassers this day. But know I will challenge you. I must if I am to restore this world to its rightful state. And I will surely still need use of your connection to the gods. We will meet again, and I will lay claim to all that I require.”

Twirling his staff once more, Ix again struck the ground, a cascade of Rings erupting from the vein of spiderweb like cracks that tore through it. With a wave of his staff he gathered the Rings up into a single point and with a flash of light they merged into a giant one through which he could travel. As the giant Ring spun the geometric lines of the stone cubes shifted from a blue hue to one of orange as they interacted with the Ring Gate and set a destination for it. Before stepping through however, Ix gave Rosy one last warning.

“Remember child, you have not my permission to die or fall ill until I have brought you humiliation and defeat. Have claimed your bond with the gods for myself and have shown you the defeat of my adversary and the restoration of this world to its former glory.”

~With a flash of light and the shimmering golden motes left behind every Ring when they disappear, Ix vanished, his scary words lingering with me as I departed the ruins on my own. I didn’t really save the day and using Sonic’s speed always upsets people, so it was better that I left on my own. That, and I really want nothing more but to run really far away right now. He knew about Ring Bonds. He could make them himself and suddenly the rumors of the Ring Striker made sense. He was forcing Ring Bonds onto people so he could learn of the world. And now he wanted one with me…~

Scene 18 · CLEARED Desert Rumors, End

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And I wonder if it was a surprise to see him here. Obviously it isn’t, but more me just using the appearance as I love it and would love to include it in some way. Fortunately, I have my golems and they were a perfect fit as I can avoid the unrobed appearance which I dislike as well. But there is more story to this golem and everything involving the secrets of the world of The Journey. I plan on taking my time and enjoying the stories namesake though, and I hoe everyone else will as well. Thank you everyone and I’ll see you next episode!

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Prompt Submitted by – Skylor-The-Ninja Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Fuse Man Stage (Arranged) – By Yoshiya Terayama – MEGAMAN 11 Original Soundtrack

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fan fiction #sonic au #sonic au series #sonic ring bond #the journey #classic amy #amy rose #rosy the rascal #au amy #amy redesign #pir'oth ix

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theholycovenantrpg · 3 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, RACHEL! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF CAPHRIEL.

Admin Cas: This decision felt practically impossible to me. We received two applications for Caphriel, and each application offered a completely different perspective of her, tapped into two totally opposite aspects of her character, but what drew me back to your application, Rachel, was your eagerness to tackle the — ah, less savoury aspects of Caphriel, shall we say? You said it yourself, it would be easy to look at Caphriel through rose-tinted glasses, given all she’s sacrificed and all she insists on doing for mortal-kind, but the matter of the fact is that she’s still an Angel. Yes, she’s kind, she’s selfless, she’s sombre; but she’s also haughty, she’s also resolute, she’s also violent. I think it was this line that sold me: “Though she despises war, Caphriel carries her sword wherever she goes – can she not say that she is prepared, if she must, to cut down those that stand in the way of her love?” I can’t wait to see what other terrible things Caphriel is willing to do in the name of love in your capable hands! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Rachel

Age | 22

Personal Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | Inspiration comes in waves, but I try my best to keep a net one or two posts per day. It might mean I spam the dash with all my replies on one day and then am lurking the rest of the week, it might actually mean one reply a day, it all depends on work and life and such. I am around every day to chat about things, though! You can count on me lurking on discord an alarming amount of the day.

Timezone | PST

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | Rosey was like Hey. I think you’ll enjoy this. and she was right!

IN CHARACTER

Character | Caphriel

What drew you to this character? | It took me a long while to settle myself on Caphriel. I was torn between a number of characters as they were posted, but I kept circling back to her – her radiant kindness, the exquisite pain of loving wholeheartedly, despite the weight of sorrows that she carries for others. She is a breath of light that is so deeply compelling to me. It could be easy to see her through rose tinted glasses, but I think there’s an edge to her that I really want to try to draw out.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |

I. TAKE UP THY BLADE

Love has brought Caphriel to violence, and it shall do so again. She committed unspeakable acts against God and her fellow angels in their great coup all for the sake of humanity, acts she would repeat tenfold if it meant they remain as they are: stumbling towards a light of their own making, figuring out their place as they define it. Though she despises war, Caphriel carries her sword wherever she goes – can she not say that she is prepared, if she must, to cut down those that stand in the way of her love?

If and when the divine beings start to chafe at their self-imposed equality with the human race, if and when they seek to be once again revered without question, Caphriel will once again take up her sword against her brethren. It is an inevitability, one she feels in her bones.

Caphriel may not go to bat for every human that she encounters, but there are individuals whom she found fight tooth and nail to spare the horrors of the world. She would put herself on the line for humanity as a whole in a heartbeat, if it came to it, though she would prefer to teach her brethren the things she’s learned from the humans first, instill in them the same deference that she holds. Break from them the desire to be worshipped, for that era seems firmly in the past. I think it would be very interesting to have her interfacing with her fellow angels, attempting to teach this point – in all likelihood, it would go poorly, especially among those that still crave power over anything. She cannot force love when it is absent, but she would bleed herself dry if it would make them understand.

Perhaps the angels get restless. Perhaps her shared animosity with Nerissa comes to a head. Perhaps someone dares to harm those that are beloved to her. I feel there are many paths that can lead to her digging back into that measure of destruction she holds within herself, all varying degrees of boundary-testing. This would be a longer-term arc for her as the plot develops, as there are a lot of dominoes that would have to fall first in order to get her to turn to violence – all other avenues must be closed, or she must really, truly feel like it is the right thing.

II. I WOULD DROWN IN THE FAVOR OF YOUR EYES

As an immortal being, Caphriel has lost a great many things. She watches the decay of mortals with a bittersweet resignation, but there are always a special few mortals whose loss she feels keenly, who she weeps for ages down the line. Luca Riche is one of these, though she has not lost him yet – and she is determined to keep him, greedy and indulgent, for as long as she can.

History repeats itself, it seems – she loved Abel then as she loves Luca now, but this time she is at his side, an equal rather than a distant observer. He is not hers to protect, but she aches to do so, would likely turn at an instant on one who did him harm. The thing is: did she love Cain less, for his sin? Did she resent him for his violence against his brother? She had wept for him as he bore the mark even as she turned her back on the darkness he harbored within himself. Her draw towards Luca unwittingly brings Jasper into her sphere, and she can sense a similar darkness about him. The brothers have her transfixed once again, but can the violence between them remain unfulfilled?

I would love to explore the established connection with Luca and how that affects her connections to Jasper. Does she see the animosity harbored by Jasper? Is she blinded to the issues by Luca’s own love for his brother, and her love for him in turn? She is a bit of a meddler, albeit a well-meaning one, so there’s a distinct possibility that she would try to facilitate some form of reconciliation, especially if the strain between the brothers begins to reflect negatively onto Luca. It might just blow up in her face.

Whether she eventually learns they are Cain and Abel does not, I think, truly matter – either way there is still the push and pull of her benevolent love vs. the specific instances of Jasper’s darker leanings, the sickly sweet danger of her love for Luca. She was not a direct actor in their story initially, but she could be now – I think she will cling to this, and it may eat at her. This possessive love could so easily turn to rot – she hovers on a precipice which, really, either brother could knock her over the edge of.

III. THERE IS BLOOD ON THE WALLS OF YOUR HOME

Caphriel’s position within the hierarchy of angels feels, despite her mantle as virtue of Charity, quite tenuous. She shuns Caelum in favor of Sanctus Terra, adores humanity more than she ever has her brethren. She took up the sword with the rest of them, followed Michael into the fray not because she believed in him, but because she believed that God had turned against His people. All that she has done has been for humanity – how plain is that for other angels to see? It is etched into the very marrow of her bones – it seems impossible that the other angels would not be wary of this, unsettled by this almost lack of loyalty.

Michael made her the virtue of Charity – but does he trust her? She had walked away while he was building his empire – does this not smart? Do the other angels view her has naïve for placing her lot so heavily with humanity? Her ferocity still lingers in their memory, but the goodness that she radiates now may turn the stomach of those angels lingering in the darker corners of Caelum.

She spends most of her time in Sanctus Terra, and I would like to really dig into her feelings about coming ‘home’ to Caelum. Whether she is drawn in some official capacity or simply visiting as part of her travels, there are a lot of mixed feelings about the place and the people. She harbors no ill will for her brethren, but their pride chafes on her after too long a stay.

It would be interesting to push this divide to the brink, test the limits of Caphriel’s love and loyalty. When given an ultimatum, which side would she choose? She was made to love and protect humanity, but can she really turn aside from her own divinity so easily?

IV. A HEART IS A MUSCLE LIKE ANY OTHER

This is building off something Minnie had in her sample app! I think it’s really compelling that Arianne and Caphriel occupy the same niche in a strange way. They both can assuage the suffering of another being, though Caphriel’s empathy is a bit less immediate of a fix than Arianne’s manipulation of the heart. There is an element of violence to both of their pathways – for Caphriel to take a memory permanently rather than just see it, she must wield her sword; for Arianne, it is easy to simply stop a heart entirely. Caphriel aims to soothe from a place of love; it seems that Arianne seeks the power that comes from dependance.

They are strange parallels, and I would love to have a possible confrontation between the two. Caphriel tries so hard to love all humanity, but I think that Arianne would push at her limits. She has made herself into humanity’s protector, though the threats she works against are myriad and deeply, deeply unexpected. Arianne’s ability poses a particularly strange threat, one that I believe Caphriel would keep an eye on, especially if she got wind that people were really hooked on Arianne. Her interest is equally a strange sort of covetousness for the position of humanity’s aid and wanting to mitigate what could be a real threat to people.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If she were to go, it would not be without a fight. In short, yes, but only if it’s really compelling for the narrative/serves a strong purpose.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation |

Love. A deep, abiding love for humanity in all their glorious failures and corruptions, their triumphs and joys. Caphriel cannot rid the world of all its woes but she can ease the pain of them, and the desire to do so has driven her to the ends of the earth and back again. Her love is a ferocious thing, not the gauzy lightness of poetry but rich and radiant, forged in blood and tears.

Before God’s defeat, Caphriel ached to understand the woes of humanity on a more intimate level, to feel them herself rather than observe their effects from afar. Her empathic power allows her to do that, and she gladly takes humanity’s pain onto herself. She is a hardier being, at the end of it – they will not weigh her down as they do the frailer humans. She will not let them.

Her love is not always good. This is, I think, the crux of her character, and what keeps her from becoming something flimsy. She has spilled blood for this love. Overthrown her creator. Likely even committed violence against the humans she so loves for the sake of sparing the masses further pain. Though her love comes from a place of righteousness, it is, ultimately, her own, and there are those that would see it as a curse or as the delusions of one individual. Her love can blind her to elements of reality and she can lose herself in the memories of others.

She exists in a strange middle ground – not quite angel, not quite human. It is her divine nature that allows her to act as she does, yet she has always hungered to know the depths of humanity. This counterbalance propels her, though she may not even understand the true extent of it.

Character Traits |

+ STEADFAST

Caphriel’s love for humanity has not wavered for eons. She remains committed to them, driven by the desire to help, to ease their suffering, to feel as one with them. Her unwavering devotion to humanity has shaped her life and all her most important actions: her turn away from God, her participation in the coup, her retreat to Sanctus Terra once it became habitable. Though this devotion is overall a net positive, it can, in certain cases, take on a negative aspect.

- OBSESSIVE

There are certain things that she cannot let go of. Her love can turn to obsession, to covetousness, blinding her to the dangers of her actions. Her hunger for connection to humanity has gnawed at her for eons, driving her forward at times against her better nature. She can lose sight of the forest for the trees if she is not careful in moderating herself.

+ COMPASSIONATE

Her powers of empathy heighten her already compassionate nature. She wants to help, to listen to others when they talk of pain, of suffering, to work with them to ease their burdens.

- MEDDLESOME

Her acts of charity are not always welcomed by those she bestows them upon. Her ministrations and particularly her empathic ability often pry deep into a person’s psyche, which she doesn’t realize may alienate those that have not sought her presence.

+ GENTLE

Angels can be fearsome things. The sword worn across her back and the brilliant white sweep of her wings may be unsettling, but Caphriel’s calm and kind demeanor puts that to rest. She radiates a sense of contentment, in harmony with the hum of her blade, the sweep of her wings through the air.

- VIOLENT

She does not often give into her baser natures, but when Caphriel is incited to a fight, she is vicious. She made a name for herself among the angels during the war with God, her greatsword forged by Michael himself whetted on the bones of her kin. Her mild demeanor may belie her fighting prowess, but the truth is: every angel is terrible. Even one built for love such as she.

In-Character Para Sample |

When she descends to the earth at the end of it all, after the bones of her Lord God have stripped themselves bare, after the Blood Plague has ravaged the new, fledgling land, she weeps. The first touch of her foot to the land of Sanctus Terra breaks her chest open, pain and joy and love, uncompromising love, spilling from the very core of her, mirrored in the souls around her. She walks, heart open, into the fold, sword a comforting weight upon her back, wings a blinding mass behind her. She learns to fold them away, over time; saves the revelation of her erstwhile divinity for more intimate things. She tucks the gleaming herald of her wings out of sight, but still she glows, lit from within by the undying flame of her love.

She walks the length of the land, leaving no corner unexplored. Her footsteps are those of Moses, of John. Of all those that wandered the earth, driven by love for their people, for their Lord. She trails a path through the indelible marks of history, the eons crumbled to ash in the reformation of the world. She carries these pilgrims with her, their memory mingling with new stories, their pain and grief and love cradled between her ribs.

It is her sword that announces her presence now, its gentle hum blown by the breeze into the small town she has wandered to. Her cloak is heavy and warm in the noonday sun, her body one large and familiar ache that comes from hours on foot. A small child stops in their tracks at the sight of her – she offers them a warm smile. That seems to spook them more than anything, and they run to hide behind the legs of a woman who bustles around the yard of a nearby home. People peer from windows as she passes, pause in their ministrations to watch her go by. They listen to the radiant hum of the sword that glints on her back and they wonder.

She takes a deep breath, lets the energy of the town seep under her skin. They are all so tired, these people – they all seem to be, the further she moves from the center of the Holy Land. Settlers bending the will of the natural world to their own, terraforming the same soil their ancestors had once turned, eons ago. She has drawn up a crowd by the time she arrives in what seems to be the main square, a rough dirt clearing amidst the houses. The people keep their distance, intrigued but wary – she cannot begrudge them this, though she aches to close the space between them, to take them up in her arms and sooth the furrows from their brows. To nurture them as they nurture the land.

There are people in the square – older, she thinks, though she’s never been good at gauging these things, so used to faces that do not line with age. Humans pass so quickly, their meagre collected years a blip in her existence, yet she yearns to understand the scope of their lives, the honors of reaching fifty years, sixty, when all she knows are millennia. She sees the child from before in the corner of her eye, trailing behind her with their mother, so small. A man and a woman speak in hushed tones as she approaches - snippets blow to her, but she captures none but their names - Gideon, the woman says, Sarah, he responds. Old names, familiar ones, and Caphriel is overcome with her desperate adoration of a people too stubborn to die out, rooted deep into lives eons ago whose stories no longer grace people’s lips but in their most basic form: the name of it all.

“My name is Caphriel,” she intones, as the man named Gideon steps forward to meet her. “I come seeking shelter and to bring aid where it is needed.”

“Why do you hide your wings, Angel?” The man before her says. She sees the glint of mistrust in his eyes, the tension in his stance. She had hoped, once, that she might someday no longer be recognizable at first glance – her brothers had laughed at her when she’d said it, so she buried that seed deep within herself. Her cloak was a small concession to herself, though it seems in this case it had been a misstep. It is no hardship to her to assuage his fears, so she bows her head briefly and removes her cloak, unfurling her wings behind her, a blaze of white stark against the dirt road, the richness of her dark skin. She sees the spark of wonder in the man’s eyes and she smiles, a small but radiant thing.

“I do not mean to hide what I am, or to dissemble and take your hospitality under false pretenses.” The low murmur of the crowd quiets as she speaks. “I take solace in walking where my brethren would fly, and have found it convenient to cover them when they are not in use to shield them from the wind and dirt.” She cocks her head, coy, lets her smile bloom wider, drops her voice like she is telling a secret. “They are a true pain to clean when they get dirty.”

She hears a ripple of laughter from behind her, bright feminine voices, and she knows she has settled into the hearts of these people. Even Gideon, frame still stoic, returns her smile. “Come,” he says, gesturing her into a home along the central square. She folds her cloak in her arms as she walks beside him, eyes adjusting to the change in light as they duck indoors. It is sparse but comfortable, and Caphriel feels at peace. “We don’t get many visitors here, let alone the start of a host of angels.”

“No host,” she says, unlacing her scabbard from her back, laying it alongside her folded cloak. “Just me.”

“Well, that’s lucky,” he replies, “Seeing as I’ve only got one spare bed.”

Her laugh is melodic, filling up the space between them, bright and bubbling with happiness. “Gideon,” she smiles, tasting the prophet’s name on her tongue, rich with history and repetition. “I want to help you. If you tell me what you and your people need, I swear I will do everything in my power to aid you. All I ask in return is a roof over my head for as long as it takes.” She holds out her hand, palm up, a minute act of supplication. “Let me help you.”

“Well,” the man before her says, “Caphriel.” He clasps her hand to shake. She feels the warmth radiate up her arm, into her heart. “Let’s get started, then.”

#accepted #accepted: caphriel

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ais-n · 4 years

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How do you create your characters? (anon ask)

Another question from the same anon I mentioned in the other post:

In general, how do you create your characters, especially their psychology/thought process/ flaws?

haha I have two answers to this - and they depend on the level of ridiculous I’m being.

MORE THOROUGH - CHARACTER BIO TEMPLATE:

I actually have a character bio template I made so it was easier for me to track multiple aspects of characters in complex stories. You can download and adjust/use however you’d like - more info at http://aisylum.com/give-and-take/resources/ or download directly as .odt, .doc, or .rtf.

I made that for my fantasy series but you can just change whatever you want to fit better for your particular situation.

In the thorough cases like this, I will usually start with some sort of idea of the character, whatever that may be, put that into the character bio, and build out from there. Sometimes the vague idea is the gender and/or orientation, sometimes it’s their past, sometimes it’s just a snippet of dialogue I think of someone saying and I have to figure out who would say that thing in that way and why.

I also try to think about what leads to what.

Like, Boyd was starved of consistent love and stability as a child, so he came to fully believe he didn’t deserve it while also desperately and subconsciously seeking it out. But because he also had low self-esteem and other issues including a number of tragedies in his past, he became self-destructive at times in his quest for feeling loved or needed. He was willing to put the needs of others above the health of himself, if it meant he wouldn’t be abandoned. Which meant he would be reckless at times, and it meant his emotions would vary hugely when it came to relationships; he would do really stupid things out of fear of losing love or acceptance because he had wished so dearly for it for so long - but that can also backlash and lead to the very thing he feared because he was doing things at times for the wrong reasons or was too willing to compromise when it would be healthier for everyone to stand his ground.

Or, looking at my LGBTQIA+ sci-fi/fantasy/cop/murder mystery-type story Incarnations for other examples - Cypress is a type of Mage (magic-user) who is maligned by pretty much the whole world, especially by other Mages. His kind was all killed in a genocide centuries ago. For various reasons that also pertain to his past (and which would be a spoiler to dictate right now but come up later in the book), he has a huge distrust for other people, to the point at times of rage and hatred and violence. He has almost no one who has been on his side and stayed on his side from the start, except his twin brother. But that comes with its own set of fears, of what would happen if something happened to his brother?, and because he equates emotions to weakness, and he loathes weakness, he can be very aggressive and cynical and sarcastic when interacting with other people. But at the same time, precisely because he’s the type of Mage who gets hunted down and killed or detained by others, and because of how he grew up, he’s learned how to stay under the radar and how to blend in when needed. For all his rage inside, he’s very good at playing a part if he has to, and those two pieces of him may feel at direct odds to one another but they’re just two sides of the same coin. He has the rage because of who he is, and because of who he is he had to learn to not be seen. He is volatile at best when he’s being his own ‘normal’ and yet he can act totally ‘normal’ according to the rest of the world at the drop of a hat if needed. You could meet him in the middle of a grift and have no clue he’s anything other than a regular Joe Schmoe kind of dude who wouldn’t hurt a fly, when in fact he wouldn’t hesitate to brutally kill you if circumstances made it in his best interest.

Basically, I often try to think of what makes sense for how people would react to things they’ve been through (both good and bad), and then how that might affect their behavior going forward, and what would positively or negatively affect that.

One very short, truncated example I’ll give is Sloane, another Mage from Incarnations; because of an event in her past that she survived and others didn’t think she should have, she’s seen as a monster by much of the local community. She became inured to random death from a young age, so she doesn’t question things the way you might expect someone to in the same circumstances, but she also became resentful of others because of how she was treated. She was a troubled child who acted out a lot, but then she had one person who decided to keep reaching out to her, again and again, despite how often she lashed out. And that person became a sense of stability for her, that led to her doing a 180. She went from a kid who was constantly in juvie to being a cop (in this world’s equivalents). There’s a lot more to her story but that’s just a quick way of showing her past and the way people treated her affected her negatively until she had enough of a positive impact on her life from someone else that she ended up changing her trajectory.

I work through a lot of those sorts of things when filling out the character bio so I get a good idea of their past, their tendencies, their biases, etc. And then there’s a section that asks questions like what would build them up, what would bring them down, what is needed for them to progress, etc. I answer those questions as much as I can, and oftentimes get some revelations about the character along the way. And then I look at the plot of the story as a whole and see if it makes sense to include pieces along the way that will provide character progression (or regression) for the character.

That can be a good way of not only making sure characters don’t stagnate in a story, while also providing layers to the plot itself so that it’s not just about one single thing - there are multiple things happening along the way that provide something potentially interesting or fun or whatever as well.

I personally like to write stories where you can enjoy it as much or more on the second, fourth, tenth read as you did on the first... I want to try to add little things, if possible, that you may glance over the first time without enough context but later can go back and say OHHH when you know more. I find that doing that is particularly fun and enjoyable and easy when you have character progression or little character quirks you can include along the way, because it doesn’t have to be some big dramatic thing for the plot of the world or overall story. It can be something as simple as a character with long hair deciding to cut their hair off, or someone who always wears shoes and makes fun of another person who goes barefoot, now trying to go barefoot and thinking “oh crap, I get why they liked this all along.” It can be totally inconsequential things for the series as a whole that have some sort of meaning for the character or reader, big or small.

I get bored easily both as a reader and a writer so I guess to me that brings in a level of entertainment.

So essentially, I start with something that either I feel I know about the character or makes sense to me about the character, then I try to think about how they would view this thing, and then I try to think about logically what would follow based on their worldview. And that often will lead to flaws, psychology, thought processes, etc. You could think of it like “What would I do if I were them?” but try to not put your personal values in place of their own.

Like, I would never murder the fuck out of people so callously as Cypress does, but I want readers to understand why he does, and for that I need to understand too as the writer or else that’s asking way too much for the readers to understand something I don’t.

QUICKER, LESS RIDICULOUS WAY

I don’t always want to fill out a whole ass memoir/biography on a character to write or create them - sometimes I just want something simple.

In those cases, I don’t write everything down like that bio template, and I don’t go into such specific and detailed questions about every part of their past and their relationships and what they do or don’t need to get better or etc. Instead, I’ll just go with the vibe of someone - what’s the information that’s of import for them as a person and their particular story? Sometimes that’s gender, orientation, race, etc, or sometimes it’s things they like (like spooky things) or things they hate (like restrictive rules).

I try to do more of an overview of why they are how they are, and therefore how they may react to certain things, but I don’t worry myself about going deep into their thought process and psychology to know every detail of how and why. Because depending on the story, I don’t even need to know that information.

I tend to do more of a ‘surface-level’ view of characters for my short stories, because going super in depth would work against what I’m trying to do when I write those - which is develop SOME sense of brevity in my life. Somewhere lol

A good example of that mentality is probably my short story Five Star Review which is about a god and a spiritual being having a conversation in a closed restaurant. In that story, both main characters are they/them, because that’s the pronouns that worked, and they are very briefly described but barely at all. That story is more about philosophy and the way spirituality/religion interacts with humanity, so that’s what more of the focus is on. I didn’t need to know every single thing Deity (the god) has ever thought, because it’s irrelevant; I just needed to know how they would feel about the particular topics brought up in this particular story. And then, if the dialogue, plot, or otherwise leads to it, I could figure out their flaws or merits as needed, based on the sort of “person” they had already shown themself to be in the previous scene(s).

I don’t know if that helps or if all of that is more confusing. But I basically just start with something I feel I know about the character, then build on that in the context of the world or environment they would have developed in, and then just kind of follow the logic along.

Also, if that doesn’t lead to flaws or any depth of the character, I will go back and look at something central to them, and try to see if there is anything seemingly directly opposed that could be introduced as a flaw or aspect of them. Because I feel that humans are rarely one-sided, and oftentimes the complexity of us is because of juxtapositions within ourselves we have or haven’t come to terms with. So to make a character feel more “real,” I think it’s important for them to have at least two things about them that don’t, at first glance, seem like it makes sense - but it doesn when you think about them as a person growing up where they did, or how they did, or where they are now, or whatever other piece of them. Not only does that feel more nuanced as a character and more realistic, but it also introduces some internal conflict that can be used as character progression or, at the very least, something interesting to bring in when the plot is in a lull and you don’t know where to go next.

For me, the most important thing is being willing to change my presumption of the character as the writer, if the character naturally develops in a different direction. And therefore also being willing to change the plot to accommodate, instead of forcing the character to follow the plot.

Sorry this post was a million miles long..... hopefully it helps, like, at all, and isn’t just massively confusing.

#ask ais #icos #icosbooks #in the company of shadows #writing #incarnations #wildwood rising

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infjabberwocky · 4 years

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imagine if she was on something...

ARCHIVE FROM SEPTEMBER 8, 2019

Having just turned 50, I decided to reflect on my life.

Why am I unemployed. Why do none of my old friends speak to me?

Why do I get angry at people for the slightest misstep that I perceive to be an attack against me?

Why have I been unable to hold onto any relationship whether it is romantic or platonic.

Why do I constantly feel attacked and insulted when there is no real attack or insult.

Why do I feel superior to everyone on the planet one moment and then start bawling because I feel like a worthless piece of shit, horrible person the next.

Why do I dwell for weeks on something that happened 30 years ago? Why do I beat myself up over something I did as a kid? Why do I beat myself up over nearly everything I do or say?

Why does someone bumping into me at the grocery store and not apologizing send me into a suicidal frenzy? A frenzy of self-loathing and tears and dread and believing that I have nothing but bad luck and that the universe must hate me.

I chain smoke and talk to myself while I plan my own demise. How dare someone give me a dirty look. How dare someone question my Twitter post. How dare someone not value my opinion.

So, I asked some acquaintances what they liked and disliked about me so I could, hopefully, change.

Their answers were not kind. They weren’t mean, but something about what they said shocked me because I never really viewed myself as what they described. I often view myself as better than most. Nicer than most. More polite than most. A better friend than most. Turns out, I’m none of that. I’m just a narcissist who overreacts to just about everything in (mostly) silent self-deprecation. Let me backtrack to the early 70s. I’m around 5 or 6. I’m across the street at my best friends apartment. We lived in Navy Housing. I run back to my house to grab something and run back, only I can’t remember what apartment she lives in. I’d been there 100 times, but I couldn’t remember. By the way, I have an enormous dent in the back of my skull that no one would tell me about. Anyway, I can’t remember what apartment, so I just start opening random doors. A large naked man saw me, laughed and invited me in. I panic, run out of the building, into my room and crawl under the covers where I stayed for days. I didn’t eat and spoke to no one. In fact, I was so mortified that I never saw my best friend, again. Seriously. And that’s how my brain has worked ever since.

The internet gave me the chance to whine to everyone. Any chance I got, I’d whine about my terrible life. My lack of friends. My lack of romance. How no one liked me because I was ugly. I valued myself based on my looks. No one is ever attracted to me. I’m too ugly to live. I should just kill myself and put everyone out of their misery by having me gone.

I drank. A lot. It either soothed me or heightened my insecurities like waking up to a flashlight in my face.

I’ve been told to seek therapy thousands of times, even by my employer, but was either too embarrassed or assumed that I knew better than any doctor. I am, after all, smarter than everyone…until I remember that I’m actually dumber than everyone. I wish that I had kept a journal. However, I’m pretty sure that it would just be a lot of nonsensical writings blaming everyone and everything for my behavior. Someone was mean to me. Someone didn’t appreciate all of the things I did for them. Someone thought I was ugly and fat. Someone didn’t like my hair. Someone molested me. Someone didn’t love me. Someone didn’t pay attention to me. Someone lied to me. Someone avoided me. Now I’m in the introspection phase. I’m trying to put my behavior and lack of motivation together like a massive jigsaw puzzle. Want to come with me? Put your seatbelt on. Better grab a crash helmet, too, because this may get bumpy.

So, in 2013 I had reached the tipping point of being miserable at work. I was a radio personality at a very popular radio station in southern California. I had worked there since 1989. My original goal was to be a DJ, but took any job I was offered just to keep my foot in the door. I started out answering phones for the jocks. I…I’m having trouble describing myself at this time because I was young and don’t know if I was just reckless or knee-deep into a mental disorder. In any event, I was hard-working, yet lazy. I chatted with listeners more than I worked. I was threatened with being fired weekly, but for some reason, never was. My behavior would change for a few days and when things cooled down, I’d go right back to doing what I was told not to. I assumed that I was so beloved, that I’d go far in no time. That didn’t happen. Around this time, I started drinking. I’d take a sippy cup full of King Cobra in the car with me to drink on the way to work or school. Eventually, I was kicked out of college for lack of attendance and poor grades and that just confirmed that I was stupid. I would take a break from school, make up an excuse, petition and be allowed to re-enroll. This happened over and over. I’d make friends, have sex with most of them and never speak to them again. I’d fall in love. I’d fall out of love after they’d do something insignificant that annoyed me. I struggled financially. I went to my parents for money constantly. I stole money from my parents. I’ve never done drugs, only smoked pot a few times but drank a ton of beer I needed it to survive. I was outrageously promiscuous. Always looking for someone to love me, even if it was only for a few hours. When they didn’t love me back, they were banished from my life. I was like this for decades. I could go into story after story and example after example of my lazy, destructive, self-loathing, whiny behavior but it will just trigger me and if you are relating to anything I’m writing, it may trigger you, too. Let’s just avoid that for now. I will add, however, that I chose friends who talked down to me. Who talked shit about me to our peers. Who paid attention to me in negative, judgmental ways. I hated my friends but begged them to like me. I would make friends who were truly nice to me and end up hating them over some minor infraction like using my hairbrush or playfully making fun of me. Nerves were always touched, or should I say torched. I’d plan to kill myself only AFTER I did something to make them regret hurting me. I’ll show them. I’ll show all of them, right? When I was younger, I’d keep my anger and bitterness internalized. When I started drinking, it came out for the world to see. When I got older, I’d internalize it again and when social media became popular, I’d write it for the world to see. Every gripe. Every perceived slight. Every comment was an insult. Every suggestion was a jab at me. Every joke was really an opinion of my faults. See how my brain works? I always assumed I had raging PMS even though my self-loathing and anger was constant. Then, I thought I had raging ADD, which may or may not be true, but probably not the cause of my suicidal tendencies.

After I became a parent, I was so afraid of fucking my kid up that I drank more thinking it would help. Obviously, it made things a gazillion times worse. I was a functioning alcoholic. I was drunk nearly all day, every day. I hid it. At least, I assumed I did. I was an awful human being, so I doubt I hid it well. Here’s the thing, though. I thought I was funny. I was named Class Clown in high school. People at the radio station seemed to like me. The listeners liked me. I got good ratings. Everyone loved me. I think. I became obsessed with sex. I watched porn at work constantly. I got in trouble at work constantly. I eventually became a DJ after 12 years. I slept with anyone who asked. I came to work drunk and left even drunker. I had sex at work, after work before work. I was a terrible mother. Not abusive, but only thought of myself. Everything was an inconvenience to me. I divorced. I slept around more. I liked unavailable men. I hated everyone. I loathed myself. I resented everyone. I was constantly struggling financially. I never felt in control of anything. Not my surroundings, not my brain, not my body, not my career, not my choices. I always felt as if I was being pulled by someone else’s strings, but nobody was there except me. I used to fly off the handle over the smallest incidents. I mean teeny. My poor kid. The shit he had to go through watching me lose my fucking mind over dead batteries in the remote. Jesus Christ if I could go back in time. I assumed my outbursts were because of my drinking. Then I assumed they were because I was a failure at everything and feeling sorry for myself. Then, after 26 years, I finally got fired. Oh. My. God. Wanna talk about a trigger? Thing is. I quit drinking. I quit cold turkey. A few years earlier, three family members died months apart so I was still dealing with packing up their house and I just didn’t have time to drink. No time for hangovers. I also decided to alienate myself from EVERYONE. I didn’t have a job, I was worthless. I lost my only sense of identity. Being that girl on the radio. Turns out that those who no longer HAD to talk to me, didn’t. I lost all of my ‘friends’ and that’s something that pissed me off immensely up until a few days ago. I harbored resentment for YEARS. So, I get fired. Get my real estate license for CA, realize that I’m terrible at math and have horrific dyslexia and decided to LEAVE CA and move to Colorado to live with my mother who I hadn’t seen in 10 years. There’s so much that happens in between this but honestly, my brain is going 5,000 mph so I’ll have to come back to it later. I mean, up until a few hours ago, I thought I was the nicest person on earth. I never kill bugs, I put them outside. I feed stray cats. I picked dead animals up in the rod and pay for their cremation. I pull furniture out of the road so cars don’t run over it. But maybe I’m not nice. Maybe I’m just seeking validation. Maybe I just wrote that so you’d think I was amazing. Yes, I had an unloving mother (still do) who either ignored me completely or verbally abused me. When I told her that a close family member was sexually abusing me, she became furious with me and said that she’d speak to him about it. Nothing ever changed. I digress. I moved to Colorado and have made no friends, cannot find work and am broker than a mother fucker. I take surveys for spending money. I have a car that has a broken computer and am unmotivated to do anything but whine and cry and contemplate suicide. None of my former colleges speak to me. They claim to be afraid of my wrath. Although, I must admit that there were times that I loved being intimidating. I loved that people were afraid of me. Maybe because I was bullied severely in junior high. I don’t know. So, like I said…and I’m sorry that this is all over the place…I decided to figure out what my major malfunction really was rather than blame everyone else for my woes. I started watching tarot videos and they were all on point (there were a few times in my life that I believed I was a sorcerer and could control everything though magic, but that’s for another time). These videos were mostly ‘pick a card’ or Virgo specific and they were all nail on head. One video would lead me to another, to another, and so on. Then, I started watching videos about having an unloving, neglectful mother. Then I started looking up how to commit suicide. Then I started looking up videos on how to change my personality. Then, I had a meltdown. I was waiting to make a left turn when I noticed the older female driver behind me waving her arms and screaming (presumably at me). I have a Jeep and it’s hard for a car to see what I see. As I waited for the two cars in front of me to turn so I could make mine, I couldn’t stop watching her flipping me off and flailing about in frustration over my lack of movement and it triggered me HARD. I came home and cried and planned my suicide and cried some more and begged God to kill me over this stranger who was in the wrong lane, freaking out over me abiding by traffic laws. Then I dawned on me that there may be something going on in my brain that is making me behave like this. This constant all or nothing overreaction. The, either you love me or you hate my guts thing. The anxiety, the depression, the whining, the negativity, the self-loathing, the hatred of every living person on the planet. I’ve even hated my own kid for weeks because he said something to me that hurt my feelings. Can you imagine? He’s 25 and still lives with me, but that’s also another story. Just like the fact I live with my narcissistic, unloving mother who makes me want to slit my throat. All for another time. I was so exhausted living in my own world of believing that everything inconvenient that happens to me is bad luck. Someone didn’t smile at me, bad luck I’d better burn the shirt I’m wearing. Do I sound crazy? Yes. Do I know what to do about it having zero income? No. Going back to my mother for a second, she just triggered me. I’m trying to self-soothe as I type this. She does this thing where if she needs help or wants me to do something for her, she screams. Like, a scream you’d make when you catch someone breaking into your car. Screams. So, I always end up running downstairs only to discover that she dropped something or her TV remote doesn’t work. She refers to me as, ‘someone’ and ‘anyone’. Never by my name. Waiting for my heart stop racing…you’d think I’d be used to this. Her behavior is my biggest trigger. I had a boss who reminded me of her. A boss who actually called me a cunt once for posting on my Facebook that ‘d be better off dead. Called me a cunt. To my face. For everyone to hear. Now, I’m glad she fired me. How much more of THAT could I have taken? Oh, wait. I’m still taking it, but this time I’m not getting paid. My goal is to get out of here and never return.

I’m going to assume that I’m mentally ill. I haven’t been in a relationship since 2007. I haven’t had sex since 2011 because I’m afraid ghosts are watching me. I haven’t had a drink since 2014 and I haven’t had a face to face conversation with another human being since 2015. What has happened to me? Am I mentally ill? It has to be more than depression. It has to be more than bipolar. Nothing brings me joy. I’m paranoid. I used to be fun and creative and now I hate myself even more than ever, yet I admire myself. I want to die yet I want to see if something good will happen. I want to be loved yet I don’t want to go through the trouble. I’m not hungry yet I’ll eat junk food until I can’t put on my pants. I can’t even masturbate because I feel like it’s going to bring me bad luck. The thing is, I am fully aware of how insane this sounds. I’m aware that this is not normal, I just can’t stop myself. I’ve learned to hold in my verbal abuse because I avoid confrontation like the plague now. I’ve always kind of avoided it, but booze made it easier. Now, I’ll apologize for things I’m not even sorry for. Things I didn’t even do wrong just to avoid ANY conflict. I’m even avoiding social media. Some girl came after me on NextDoor last week and I actually put a hose in my tailpipe. Over some stranger. On fucking NextDoor. The blessing is that no one will ever read this. No one likes me and no one reads my blogs and fuck if I’m going to advertise this. I need help. I believe if I can fix whatever is going on in my brain, I can function like a 50-year-old adult, find work, maybe even love and live adequately ever after. I guess you’re going to judge me, now. It will trigger me and I’ll cry and probably try to kill myself, but you’ll think I’m looking for sympathy or being melodramatic. I’m not looking for sympathy for the devil, just a little tenderness. Yes, I realize that this looks like just a massive blog of bitching, moaning and complaining but I’m trying to show how my mind works, not whine. Well, whine a little. It’s really all I’ve got right now.

Until my next manic meltdown…

#INFJ VIRGO

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