#and with every time i encounter it my hatred for it is stronger. i endured it in tsomd and it ended quickly but here i honestly just dk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alirhi · 3 years ago

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chapter 10

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 10/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. WARNINGS: not much, really. References to torture, but nothing explicit Notes: as usual, this fic relies heavily on you having seen the Marvel movies (or at least CA:TFA, CA:CW, Thor, and The Avengers, so far) but like... why would you be reading MCU fanfic if you hadn't seen the MCU? XD

He never would have broken; he just hoped Thanos and his idiot henchmen didn't realize that. The torture he endured probably would have broken Thor in about half the time they'd been at it, but Loki was far stronger than anyone had ever given him credit for. If not for Eira, alone on an alien planet with a complete stranger, Loki probably would have held out indefinitely, just to piss them off. As usual, though, he didn't have time to mess with them or test his own endurance. He had to get to Midgard, collect his daughter and her father regardless of Bucky's feelings on the subject, and disappear.

So he pretended to break. He held out for a while for show, and then folded like a poorly constructed house of cards. Thanos – not a very trusting lad, that one – insisted on worming into Loki's mind with that damned scepter, and he had to let him, to convince him that the God of Mischief was truly under his thumb.

It was the most unpleasant sensation, having the energy of that thing wiggling through his brain. He did his best to keep it at bay, only letting the stone in the scepter into the very edge of his mind, but it still felt like a swarm of beetles crawling around under his skull. It, and the energy required to keep it from taking over or to keep himself from shaking it off entirely, left him exhausted and disoriented.

You will have your moment of glory, Thanos had told him with a smirk as he handed Loki the scepter. Just serve your purpose and bring me what's mine.

"I am Loki of Asgard," he announced to the humans between him and that damned cube, "and I am burdened with glorious purpose." They didn't catch the bitter sarcasm in his tone, but that was alright. He hadn't expected them to.

"Loki?" Why did this old man look so familiar? "Brother of Thor?"

Loki just barely stopped himself from gagging, and scoffed instead. Of course. This was one of Thor's little human friends. Well, at least he could have a bit of fun while he was here; he touched the tip of the scepter to Selveig's chest and watched the sickly blue light seep into his irises. See how Thor felt when he learned that Loki had made one of his precious human friends his little dancing puppet! It also helped that Selveig was some sort of scientist; he had some working knowledge of the Tesseract, and that would likely come in handy.

He really didn't give a damn about the Tesseract or Thanos' mad mission; still, it was best to keep up appearances until he could find a way to wiggle free of him once and for all. As long as he could feel the scepter's energy slithering around his brain, he knew there was a chance that Thanos, or his creepy underling The Other, could track what he was doing. The only thing worse than playing the obedient servant would be leading them straight back to Bucky and Eira. His best bet was a 'poorly executed' plan to distract Thor and his little band of human misfits.

Pity he had to fight them. He rather liked Banner and Stark. There was one silver lining to all this insanity, though: The redhead. That bloody slag, Natasha. The moment he looked into Barton's mind and saw her, that woman who'd dared put her hands on his Sergeant, he couldn't wait to make her suffer.

Damn. Jealousy truly was the ugliest, most uncomfortable emotion.

It caught him off guard when they sent her in first. As he gleefully informed her, he'd expected some sort of torture first, and then the woman would be sent in as a 'friend', a balm, and he'd be expected to fold and cooperate. None of them knew the depth of his hatred for this woman, so he was sure they didn't expect him to easily resist her 'charms.'

He taunted her for a bit, reveling in the increasing look of horror in her eyes, the way they filled with tears she fought valiantly not to shed, the way she trembled...

"You're a monster!" she whispered as she turned her back to him, still visibly shaking.

Loki chuckled, the insidious little devil in his heart placated by Natasha's apparent distress. "Oh, no," he gloated, at this point just making shit up as he went along. "You brought the monster." Honestly, what did that even mean?

Suddenly steady and clear-eyed, she turned and looked him right in the eye. "So, Banner. That's your play."

"What?" Oh, right. Barton had told him she had a knack for wrangling the beast within Banner; likely, she'd been the one sent to recruit him. Well, that worked out, didn't it?

He pretended to be shocked by her deductive skills until she was out of sight, and then rolled his eyes. Let them give him credit when Banner lost control of the beast in the fray about to come; it hadn't actually been his plan, but he knew it would certainly happen. These misfits were nothing if not predictable.

Maybe he'd luck out and find her mangled corpse somewhere at the end of all this. Surely Bucky wouldn't care, right? They'd only had a chance encounter... Perhaps Loki just wouldn't tell him. Really, was there any reason for him to know this random woman he'd slept with while brainwashed was dead? No, darling, I have no idea what happened to Agent Romanov! None at all. She's a spy, isn't she? Perhaps she disappeared on her own...

Oh, bugger. He was going to have to make sure she survived this, wasn't he? Even as he mocked Thor and tricked him into the glass cage, he was thinking about that bloody redhead. If the Sergeant remembered her, likely Bucky would, as well. Loki had never lied to him before; he certainly wasn't about to start now. Ugh. Guilt was an even worse feeling than jealousy!

Brother safely sequestered from the fight for the time being, Loki set about retrieving the scepter and the Tesseract, and making sure the vessel the fragile humans were on remained intact long enough for Stark and Rogers to get it at least partially functioning again. It was exhausting, trying to keep up the appearance of attempting to kill these people while simultaneously trying to keep them safe.

He could feel the scepter's hold on his mind weakening, thank Frigga, but he didn't dare even think of going to Siberia yet. Until he was free of it completely, without pushing it away himself and alerting Thanos, he didn't dare go anywhere near Bucky. At least he had command of the Chitauri, once he could bring them to Midgard. They would make a delightful distraction for all parties involved, and if he timed things just right, he could even send a few of them to SHIELD headquarters to turn HYDRA into nothing but a lake of blood and bone fragments.

Oh, Stark had made it home. Secretly pleased to see that he was well, Loki smirked – trying desperately to hide his giddy grin – and met him inside. "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my 'humanity,'" he teased, eager for banter with a mind as sharp as his own for the first time since... Well, since before Bucky had been captured and reported killed in action.

"Uh, actually I'm planning to threaten you."

"You should've left your armor on for that." This man was adorable. Once all was said and done and they were safe, he wondered if it would be strange to invite Stark over for dinner.

"Yeah." Stark's tone was endearingly dismissive. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glowstick of destiny."

Trying not to laugh, Loki glanced down at the scepter. I am never calling it anything else again.

"Would you like a drink?"

He couldn't contain his laughter completely; he really liked Stark. Disguising it as mocking and arrogance, he hastily told him, "Stalling me won't change anything."

"No no no, threatening!" Stark gestured to the impressively stocked bar. "No drink, you sure? I'm having one."

One more second, and he was going to break and crack up. Or hug the man. Either way, it wouldn't look good. Hoping to buy a moment to collect himself, he spun on his heel and moved over to the glass wall overlooking the city.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." I wish you, Banner, and Thor would just get as far away as possible before they arrive. He turned back to face the other man, hoping the tremor he could hear in his own voice wasn't audible from across the room. "What have I to fear?"

"The Avengers." Loki must have looked as confused as he felt; Stark rolled his eyes and clarified, "That's what we call ourselves; sorta like a team. Earth's mightiest heroes type thing."

"Yes." Loki smirked. "I've me them."

Picking up the mocking in his tone, Stark chuckled. "Yeah, takes us a while to gain any traction, I'll give you that one. But... Let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-God-"

Adoptive brother, he wanted to snap as he scoffed and turned away, and barely that!

"A super soldier, a living legend who kinda lives up to the legend... A man with breathtaking anger management issues..."

Loki couldn't help grinning at that description. He liked Banner quite a bit, and the mindless green beast was an endless source of entertainment.

"A couple of master assassins," Stark continued, pointing at the pacing Trickster, "and you, big fella, you've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan."

That's because you don't know what the plan was for. He grinned, but his mirth was short-lived as Stark calmly made his way around the bar and approached him.

"When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

He'd thought of that, but still hadn't thought his way out of it quite yet. "I have an army," was all he could think to say.

"We have a Hulk."

"Oh, I thought the beast had wandered off." He'd likely return, of course, but hopefully in time only to slow the Chitauri, not to capture Loki.

He didn't want to, but as the conversation went on he realized he didn't have much of a choice. Hoping it wouldn't do any lasting damage to that beautiful brain of his, he touched the scepter to Stark's chest... and nothing happened. Confused, he tried again. Still nothing, and now Stark's witty retorts were just grating on him. Spotting the cuffs he hadn't been wearing before and assuming they were some sort of tech, he decided to just vent his frustrations the old fashioned way. With a growl, he lifted Stark by the throat and threw him out a window.

Sure enough, something shot out the hole in the glass after him, and within seconds, Stark appeared in a new suit. Good. At least Loki had managed to vent a little anger without actually harming one of the few humans he respected.

The knock to the head he received when he was blasted back a few seconds later was enough to finally dislodge the energy of the scepter fully. He'd have heaved a sigh of relief if the Tesseract hadn't chosen that exact moment to finally tear open the space above the tower and let the Chitauri through. Unleashing Hell on an unsuspecting city miles from even the closest of his actual targets had never exactly been his favorite plan, but it seemed that was the only one that was actually going to play out.

As usual, even his hated backup plan didn't end the way he'd hoped. By the end of the afternoon, two things were quite clear to Loki: One, he was going to have to take a breather and then find a way to disappear once he was healed.

And two, he didn't much like Banner anymore.

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#fanfic #loki #mcu #avengers #captain america #bucky barnes #tony stark #iron man #m/m #loki/bucky #reference to buckynat #tom hiddleston #sebastian stan #winter's frost

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gayorphanboss · 4 years ago

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Christmas is hell in my world - To be continued

Blood rushing to my head, heart palpitations beating faster than an electronic dance music track and bleeding from my head with a flow like a river. 14-years of this shit, 14 fleeting moments of beatings in a time period of 10 minutes. I’m on my floor, concussed with a swollen face, blood dripping off my face into the floorboard cracks. As the blood dries on my face, then makes it hard to open my eyes with the drying of the blood working as a glue on my eye lashes. The rats in the walls hear silence and make their way near me. I was frozen from the previous events, so I probably came across as an inanimate object of my room. Who did this to me? My father. Why?

The morning before I’m immobilized on my bedroom floor.

Eyes heavier than a dumbbell. I’m Half-asleep and half-awake, before the sun beaming through my bent and crooked cheap aluminon cheap blinds, make me fully aware of the day. Waking up in my own personal hell. Today isn’t just any other day. Today is Christmas. Therefore, it’s a Christmas lunch today with my family which seem like a bunch of strangers who hate me. I’m very much the black sheep. You grow up thinking adults are mature, but sometimes they act like they are still in high school, like a peer I would come across in the hallway. But perhaps I am the problem. Sigh, why do I always feel like I’m the issue for everything I do. Do all 14-year-old boys feel like this? Sometimes I feel like a fish being pulled backwards and drowning in my own environment. Having the resources like gills and still consuming toxicity.

We are taking a full car from Ballarat to Melbourne. Guess what, I’m in the middle even knowingly I am taller than my sister Shannon. Shannon is three years older than me; she is about to go into her final year at high school. She has a good work effort, quite pretty, has freckles and long thick brunette hair. When I encountered a bullying ideal at school, she mentioned to me “once you let people walk all over you, they will be doing it for the rest of your life. In some sense I could already understand what she was talking about, with my current abuser, my father. All I knew what to do, was freeze and take it like a punching bag.

I don’t speak up or challenge any logical statement of being taller to not sit in the middle, because the consequence is more physically brutal of having a boney ass and no leg room for an hour and a half. Much better than being whipped by a belt, smacked in the face and whatever my father feels like doing to me. He struggles with his own personal problems and looks me like a punching bag, then when he wants to release his anger, he hits, kicks, throws plates, belt and whatever he wants.

Have a small bite of Weet-Bix then straight into the shower. I close the wooden door and make way into the shower filled with moldy walls. Stare at the spider in the web before washing my hair. In this moment I’m fantasying dropping dead. Perhaps being turned into ash like some magical spell in some sci-fi shit on tv, sci-fi or fiction? Who the fuck knows, I don’t! All I know is I want my ashes being washed down the drain like no such thing as existence of myself Xavier. I relive a memory of watching Saw with my mother, while she was spaced out on crack and I was seven. Admired the beauty that they had endure the pain and mostly they dyed afterwards, while I was constantly enduring more and more abuse without being relieved of my pain through death. So… death seemed pleasurable today.

I wash my hair quickly, since getting a “hurry up Xavier” from my other sister Nikkita, through the wooden door. Now Nikkita is a very amazing athlete, dual sports or being a national athlete, finalist and medalist, I’ve always admired her. Also admired her when she put her body on the line between myself and dad, when his red bull anger was bursting, and he was trying to hurt me. I was at the door, she was in-between myself and dad, while she was not letting him through. She was in a sense stronger than him. In this moment anyways, because she wasn’t backing down and she was firm, and he couldn’t get through. She was pushing him away, while was trying to her out of the way.

I get dressed in some shorts and a T-Shirt. Now we all make our way to the car. We drive to another suburb in Ballarat, to Nan’s home. We are taking her car, on the basis of ours was gross and my father looked after things very poorly. Nan is a, my way of the highway type of women. I have a Ying and Yang love for that part of her.

We arrive, say our hellos’. Then we pack the car with my Nans dishes. Now we are on the road to Geelong. I’m so wrecked and not prepared for this day. In this car trip, I’m quite quiet. I have decided that I won’t speak any more than I need to for the day. Because I seem to always tend to be the problem. The “know it all”. This remark stems from earlier years working out basic logical problems, which ignited hatred towards my intellect. These problems solving were over many different factors in life. But one what comes to mine, is trying to fit a couch through a doorway. I suggested another way, since the initial way of trying to force it through was not working. So, I suggested “how about we try putting it on an angle”. Then my father gave up, had a little tantrum, stormed through the door and slammed the screen wire, like a four-year-old not getting a chocolate at the checkout at Coles. Left my sisters and I, to work out how to get this fucking couch into the house while he is defusing his tempter in his room. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion to be polite and not react to any remarks made by the adults on this Christmas day. Since everything I do and say is just a problem. I sincerely saying this, I’m not being sarcastic, I just want everyone to have a good time and if I do not speak, I think that will be the easiest way.

Looking past the paddocks into the skyline. Listening to my tunes and minding my business. All is going to plan. Just a normal trip, nothing abnormal. Few remarks about us, made by nan. Some body shaming to my beautiful sister Nikkita, influencing Shannon to be more proper and you know, the “know it all” remark made about me even knowingly I am being dead quiet. So in short it is a shit travel from point A to point B.

We arrive. My uncle grant and his wife Christie are the hostesses of this Christmas lunch. Also, Uncle Brett and his wife Andrea are here. With their kids, Nigel and Glen. Greetings to all, I am being polite also a little closed off not to draw to much attention to myself. I have now just witnessed Andrea and Nan accidently peck while greeting each other. I’m moving gently throughout the space and saying hello. I’m sitting on the couch with my mouth shut, but the conversations are drifting between footy (AFL) and the cricket. Two things, I am no longer interested in, but I do not voice anything. Wow. I think I am the problem. The social setting is a dynamic with only signs of peace and joy in this festive. Dad’s laughing loudly. Nan’s smiling. Pa is being the beautiful soul he is. I’m sitting on the couch, identifying I am the problem. That moment of nothingness is followed through with the hollow feeling. The feeling of emptiness, and my thoughts are thinking, I deserve every shred of abuse in endure. I’m a broken piece of shit which brings my family anger.

I make my way out-side to pat the dog. This dog is a stunning Kings Charles, named Penny. Doesn’t bark and is very friendly. I’m patting Penny outside so I can take a breath. I need a second. A second to wrap my head around, that I am a fucking burden to everyone. I am this fucking know it all twat. I want to cry, but dry less tears are coming out since I’m so fucking empty. Soo fucking over everything. I am that “cunt” one of my friend’s parents at the time called me, when over afterschool in grade 6, yes, fucking primary school. I am also that “cunt” my dad called me at 5 years old. I am stupid and ugly which my step mum called me. I am weird. I am arrogant which the dads at the swim club called me. I deserve to be the laughingstock at the swim club’s presentation when dad was awarded the golden clip board award, for breaking one over my head when I was 7 years old in Melton. They all laughed so fucking hard over awarding him it, may as well created the term “lol” before the internet slang took over in later years. I’m all the names grant calls me, I’m worth $5 a day to clean a whole house like Christy said. I’m ungrateful like every single fucking adult in my life has told me, if that’s family or teachers and everything in-between. Perhaps, they can smell the homo on me. And I am an abomination against reproduction and to this conservative family. All the beltings for crying when I was younger. I fucking deserve to have my emotions beaten out of me. The ringing ears from being so consumed by my thoughts gets broken by the calling of me name. “Xavier” Nikkita slurs.

I shift my feet back inside, the realization of my own burden on others feels like my legs are twice as heavy… I’m just extra weight on others. Back inside. Sitting on the light-colored couch, and feet on the carpet-mat. Conversations are still that bleak short talk whether shit. Time passes and we all make our way outside.

It’s a scorcher of a day in Melbourne. I am now seated at the “kids table”, while the “adults:” are at the adult table. We are under a gazebo whole they are seated under a shelter. Everything isn’t still going to plan as I drown in my own guilt of being this factor of unhappiness to my family and a subject of pain for them too. Half or so hour later, we all make our way grabbing a white kitchen plate to plate our food. I get some ham, potato salad and lamb and of course gravy. Some salt and pepper and I’m ready to eat this delightful feed. Through the sliding glass doorway, minding my business while treading lightly protecting my plate of food. Bum to the plastic chairs, very similar to the ones in primary school. Fork and knife in unison eating this delicious plate in serenity.

#literature #writing #books & libraries #memoir #gay #survivor #domestic violene helplines #domestic violene poem

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realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

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Secrets and Lies, chapter 4

This is a Death and Taxes fic. It takes the typical, predator-prey dynamic that one often sees in one-offs and tells a story with it. It’s going to be the edgiest thing I’ve written thusfar, so buckle up.

Thanks to the people who encouraged me to write this. I wasn’t sure it was a concept worth writing.

Since Grant had become Joey’s confidant, Joey had felt every suspicious eye that landed on him. There had always been suspicion towards him, of course- after all, he was having ink pipes installed around every corner of the building for no apparent reason and demanding ritual items from people’s workplaces- but he’d never been so hyperaware of them. He was growing quite sure that it wasn’t just his paranoia- those eyes really were multiplying. Moreover, Joey had been feeling Norman’s eyes on him more than usual lately- and not with the detached curiosity they used to hold. Norman wasn’t generally the most expressive person, but as of late Joey could just feel the hatred and disgust coming off of him like smoke. Using Grant- a person he ultimately knew little about in terms of character- as a listening ear had been a downright stupid mistake. At first Joey ignored his suspicion that Grant had leaked his secrets, as it probably was just a suspicion, but eventually it got the better of him, and he decided to do some interrogation.

The first thing Joey did was to ask around Accounting and Finances about anyone Grant had been spending an abnormal amount of time with. Apparently, he’d befriended their treasurer recently. He went to Toby’s office immediately. Toby looked up from his work, surprised. “Hello, Mr. Drew. What can I help you with?”

Joey sat down across from Toby and leaned over his desk. “I just want to talk. So, you’ve been hanging out with Grant Cohen lately?”

Toby was visibly nervous. “Yes?”

“Allow me to direct. He hasn’t been spreading rumours about me, has he?”

Toby’s eyes went wider. He was a terrible liar even before he opened his mouth. “No, sir.”

“If I catch you in a lie, you’re fired and I’ll out you to your next of kin. Does that change your answer?”

“Well, I didn’t lie. He hasn’t spread rumours about you, but… I do know some things. I know you hurt him. So I’ve been checking in on him, and that’s all that’s happened between us. But he hasn’t said anything - I don’t even know what exactly you’re doing to him. Honest.”

Joey’s eyes narrowed: a final attempt to intimidate extra words out of him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” With that, Joey got up and left.

What would he do next? He definitely didn’t want to interrogate Norman- not alone at least. And no matter what, he’d have to interrogate Grant eventually to find out who knew what- that seemed like a logical next step. Anyone Grant mentioned would also need to be interrogated and killed, and of course, Grant himself had to be disposed of. This had all gotten wildly out of hand.

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This was supposed to be Grant’s last day working at Joey Drew Studios. He had landed a job elsewhere. Of course, there would be no two week’s notice or conspicuously cleaning out his office- just carrying out anything of his that he could fit in his briefcase and abandoning the rest along with his post. Not the greatest plan, but whatever the long-term consequences were, he would handle them as they came- and there was no way in hell that he was telling Joey he was quitting. He feared Joey’s anger far too much for that. It seemed like nothing could go wrong until Joey knocked on his door. After letting Joey in and locking the door, Grant got onto his knees and started taking off his clothes. He knew the drill, and he was beyond even avoiding eye contact at this point, instead looking at Joey with dead eyes that said, we both know that neither of us is going to enjoy this. Maybe this time Joey would get bored and leave before hurting him too badly.

That was the really sad and pathetic part, and both of them understood it. Joey wasn’t even enjoying this aspect of their relationship anymore. He used to enjoy the panic in Grant’s eyes, his nervous smiles and his attempts to talk Joey down so he’d be somewhat gentler. That had been fun. As of late, there had been nothing of the sort: Grant was utterly resigned to letting Joey have his way. It was about as much fun as fucking a mannequin. A mannequin that was invariably crying and in pain by the time you were done, and who you had to see the next day at work, trying to hide the damage you’ve caused them- something that added nothing to the mood. Joey had kept doing this in hopes that that was temporary and soon he’d be having fun like they were in the beginning, but he was losing hope in that, too. Joey was never going to use anyone else like this again, now that he knew how quickly it became so joyless.

But that wasn’t Joey’s intention today. “Hey. Get up. I’m not here for that,” he said in a very gentle tone of voice.

Grant obeyed. Joey must have been there for work-related reasons.

As soon as Grant was up and dressed, Joey took his hand in both of his. “I know a lot has happened between us, and I'm sorry if I ever made you think you deserved any of that. You didn’t. I was having trouble coming to terms with my feelings for you, and I took it out on you in the worst way possible. What would you say if we try and have something genuine, and I start treating you like a human being? How would you like that?”

That was the Joey Grant had known in the beginning- the charming, gentle man with the gorgeous blue eyes that he’d fallen in lust with.

He would have had an easier time seducing a brick.

Still, no matter what, Grant only had to get through this final encounter and he was free. If this was a trick, he’d endure it. If Joey was serious (as laughable as the thought was), all the better- Grant could do with one less instance of rape.

“I- sure, Joey. I forgive you. You won’t hurt me anymore?”

Joey smiled gently. “Never again. I promise. But I also nee to trust you. Everything I told you- did you tell anyone else?”

“No. Not a word.”

“Oh? Toby told me that he knows about us.”

“Yes... he knows that something is going on and has a vague sense that it isn’t good. But nothing about what you’ve told me.”

“And Norman? He seems suspicious of me lately.” Cracks were showing in Joey’s gentle facade.

Grant carefully held Joey’s gaze. “I never spoke a word to him. He is rather perceptive- maybe he picked it up somehow. It could be from something as small as my reaction to your name.”

Joey paused a moment. “Okay.” He seemed almost disappointed. “I have a surprise for you. Come on. And let’s keep holding hands.”

“Out where people can see us?”

“Let them. If they hassle us, I’ll fire them.”

“Joey, I don’t want a reputation as a homosexual. I want people to be able to trust me, and my family to respect me. That’s more important to me than this.”

“Shh... I know a lot of people who won’t care. My family doesn’t. You shouldn’t have to live a lie for anyone.” Grant dropped the subject. With the pictures coming out the next day, bringing it up at all had been rather pointless.

Joey led the way towards the elevator. They passed by Thomas, who looked at them with pity and concern before returning his attention to the ink pipe he was putting in. Alarm bells rang in Grant’s head. Joey had always talked about Thomas as one of the complicit few. He muttered something about having a meeting and tried to pull away, but Joey tightened his grip on his hand. They were fifteen feet away from the elevator and Joey had to pull Grant every inch of it, dragging him with both hands as Thomas watched, wishing he could intervene. Joey finally pulled him in, shut the bars, and hit the button for the very basement.

That was the final nail in the coffin. In all of Joey’s rambling sessions, he’d always talked about the basement. That was where all of his rituals happened. All of what Joey had said about the Satanic rituals had been the truth. The passing floors soon gave way to metal walls as the elevator descended. The basement had to be a long way down. Joey finally let go of Grant’s hand and lunged at him. In a split second, Grant had landed a hook punch to Joey’s jaw, knocking him off balance. Joey took a second lunge and this time Grant wasn’t fast enough to stop him. Joey pounded Grant’s head against the metal wall repeatedly. It was impossible to get out of Joey’s grip- he was just too much bigger and stronger. A bump in the elevator ride forced Joey’s grip off of him long enough for him to pull away. Joey lunged for him again, but Grant got out of his way, and Joey rammed headfirst into the metal wall. Grant got in quickly with another punch to the jaw. Joey collapsed, probably primarily from the wall.

The elevator hit the ground, but there was still nowhere to run, given that the only exit was a locked metal door. For a moment, Grant just stood there, catching his breath and attempting to come down from panic. It occurred to him that Joey could wake up at any second. Praying for thirty seconds’ time, Grant rifled through Joey’s pockets for keys- if he could find them and unlock the door, and if he was physically capable of dragging Joey’s body in there so he could leave it there and make it out, and if Joey didn’t wake up-

Joey’s grip tightened around Grant’s ankle. Joey got up, and pulled Grant to the ground. The last thing Grant heard before going unconscious was the sound of his skull cracking before from Joey slamming it into one of the elevator’s metal bars.

Joey panted from the exertion and adrenaline. This could only have been described as a disaster, he thought as he unlocked and opened the door, picked up Grant’s body, and carefully locked it into one of the iron cages he’d used to house ink creatures. Then, he retired to another room within the basement- his private sanctuary. He needed to put on some music and cool down. Joey would take care of Grant later- he hadn’t felt a pulse or breathing, but he hadn’t checked. For now it didn’t matter, since he’d never done a sacrifice during the day and he wasn’t about to start now, as there was no sink in the basement with which to wash off the blood. That had been a major oversight of his. But, he’d been full of oversights, lately- like attempting to wrestle Grant into submission in a moving elevator. He never thought that such a small man would put up such a fight. And then there was Norman to contend with- surely Grant’s disappearance would only raise his already dangerous levels of suspicion. How the hell was he going to kill someone so strong and clever? And that was assuming that Grant hadn’t been lied about no one else knowing. Being a murderer was stressful.

It times like these that Joey really wished he still had Henry. Someone to tell him no, and give him advice like “maybe put a sink in the basement so you can wash off the blood of your sacrifices.” Someone who wanted to listen, wanted to be near him, wanted his body, instead of having that forced upon him. Joey thought that having complete control over a person would be fulfilling, but in effect it had only left him feeling emptier than ever. That was the saddest part, wasn’t it? All this trouble for something so worthless.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #death and taxes #joey drew #grant cohen #my fanfiction

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ayma-nidiot · 4 years ago

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In the White Light - Prideshipping Chapter 15

Also on AO3.

Author’s note: From here on out, there will be small bits of Shrimpshipping, especially since I believe Rex and Weevil deserved so much better in the anime. So I apologize to those of you who don’t ship it. I promise that the overall fanfic and remaining chapters will primarily be Prideshipping still, and the Shrimpshipping will be relatively minimal.

Chapter 15 – For Sure This Time

When Yami Yugi and Kaiba nearly made it to ground level, the pharaoh noticed a giant portal open up on Atlantis, which Joey had no problem passing through. Before Yugi could do the same, Yami shouted, “Yugi, wait! Don’t go yet!”

“Pharaoh!” Yugi noticed a weak Kaiba before he saw the pharaoh. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Dammit, pharaoh, you made me hold on for nothing,” Kaiba groaned, weakened by the battle and the thin air, as he changed back into a human. He would have landed on top of Yugi, too, had Yami Yugi not caught him.

“What happened up there?” Yugi asked.

Not bothering to get up from his prone position, Kaiba replied, “I think I fought too hard… again. It took all I had in me to fight Leviathan’s seal on my powers.”

“I see… But then why do we need to stay, pharaoh?”

Yami Yugi pointed to a man hobbling towards them. “That’s why.”

“Sorry, did you think I was dead?” Dartz laughed while he held onto his injured right arm, and Leviathan once again appeared.

Yami Yugi gave Kaiba a pained look. “Kaiba, get out of here! This battle is for me and Yugi to fight.”

“Ngh…” Kaiba could only crawl an inch before his back radiated in pain. “I… can’t… And even if I could, I’m not leaving you, not during your most important battle yet.”

“Luckily for you, pharaoh, I no longer have any interest in your boyfriend,” Dartz spoke while Leviathan reared his spiky head. “Your soul is so dark, so full of hatred and evil, that it is the only one I need!”

“That’s not true!” Yugi interjected.

“Oh? You have something to say, you insignificant runt?”

“He’s beaten the darkness in his second duel against Rafael!”

“Hmm, you just gave me an idea…” Dartz cackled again, motioning for Leviathan to attack Yami Yugi.

“Aaaaargh!” Yami Yugi could feel the remnants of Leviathan attempt to tear at his soul. Too tired to stand anymore, he fell to his knees.

“If he’s really beaten the darkness as you say, then he’ll be able to resist the great beast! But if not, his soul will be no more, and Leviathan will have all the power he’ll ever need!”

“Ngh…” Yami Yugi managed to very slowly get up again.

“It’s futile, you know. You’re just prolonging your suffering, pharaoh. But if you give in, I can assure you it will be over soon enough!”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to face my own darkness.” Yami Yugi looked back to Yugi. “Even before my friends and I had to endure your war, we fought together at Duelist Kingdom. Just when I felt ready to give up… Just when Pegasus had my soul on the brink… It was my friends who saved me. See, Dartz? This is why you can never beat me. You don’t have the love and support of friendship.”

Dartz winced as Leviathan’s influence over Yami Yugi grew weaker. “Y-You think your friendship speeches will work on me?”

Yami Yugi fully stood up now, and the Millennium Puzzle began to glow. “They can… and they will.”

“Don’t tell me… You’re going to use the forbidden magic?”

“Etirihc irakih ukaway, uohsius ustihies uatu!”

Yami Yugi’s dreamy baritone voice echoed far enough for Mokuba and the others to hear from ground level. “What a beautiful voice… Could it be the pharaoh?”

“It’s working!” Yugi spoke with hope in his voice. “…Whatever it is. But what’s happening to Dartz?”

“Uwaaaaa!” Despite how Leviathan quickly began to fade, Dartz apparently looked healthy.

Yami Yugi had finished the Incantation at last. Having spent most of his energy, he fell to the floor and now sat on his feet.

Incidentally, Kaiba felt so refreshed after the song that he could get up again. He decided to direct his newfound energy towards Dartz. “Dartz… You’ll pay, you bas-”

Yugi pulled on Kaiba’s coat. “No, Kaiba, look at him!”

With a perplexed look and two golden eyes, Dartz looked at the short high school student. “What… What is going on?”

Even Kaiba could tell that Dartz’s personality had done a complete 180˚. He looked down to Yami Yugi and asked, “Pharaoh, what did you do?”

“Ngh…” Yami Yugi braced himself against a nearby boulder to sit up straight. “I used the power of the Pharaoh’s Incantation – and my friendship – to free Dartz of Leviathan’s influence.”

“So… A friendship speech saved the day.” Kaiba rolled his eyes.

“Indeed it did!” exclaimed a happy girl’s voice from behind Dartz.

Dartz couldn’t be more delighted to see the familiar faces he thought had abandoned him. “Chris! Father! What are you doing here?”

“Is there something wrong when a daughter misses her dad?” Chris frowned.

“Dartz… Come back,” Ironheart, Dartz’s father, requested. “Atlantis still needs you.”

“No, Father. Not after all I’ve done… I’ve caused my people undue suffering.”

“It was the Orichalcos’ fault, not yours, Dad! Now that it’s gone, everyone really misses you! Especially me.”

“So… this must be what the power of friendship is like.” Dartz shed happy tears when he looked to the chosen duelists again. “Thank you, pharaoh, for getting rid of the evil influence that drove me mad. Now before this city descends into the sea again, I suggest that the three of you make yourselves scarce.”

“Goodbye, pharaoh, and thank you!” Ironheart spoke as the images of himself, Chris, and Dartz began to fade. “Perhaps we may meet again.”

“Up you get, babe.” Kaiba, with Yugi’s help, got Yami Yugi back on his feet, though the pharaoh still felt weak. “Now that that stupid Leviathan is no more, you can rest after all you’ve done today. Then we can duel again.”

“Oh come on, Kaiba, is that all you ever think about?” Yugi whined.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Wow, at least you’re honest.”

The three finally reached the portal and now stepped into it. “I just might start planning another tournament.”

“Hehehe… Hopefully Rex and Weevil won’t rig it like they nearly did in Battle City.”

Almost as if by chance, the two short duelists had just woken up in the hospital room they shared. No longer were there monsters in Domino City; nevertheless, construction crews didn’t waste any time in working to fix the immense damage.

“Ugh… Where am I?” Rex spoke, closing his eyes halfway at the bright sunlight.

“I dunno, where do you think, dino brain?” Weevil sat up. “This is a hospital room! And in case you forgot, we ended up here because you failed to defeat Joey!”

“What do you mean, I failed? You failed because you still couldn’t beat Yugi in a duel!”

“…” Weevil had no comeback for that.

“And what I’d like to know is, how did we end up in the same room together?”

Weevil’s devilish demeanour dropped for a spell as he looked away. “How the hell should I know?”

To Weevil’s dismay, Rex had noticed this change in behaviour. “Weevil? You’re acting weird. I mean, more than usual.”

Weevil broke the tension with, “A-Anyway, I think I want to give that stupid Yugi a piece of my mind!”

As Weevil jumped out of bed, Rex soon followed. “Now we’re talking! This time… This time for sure, I’m going to beat Joey!”

“Now let’s blow this taco stand and get our revenge. For sure this time!”

While the pair headed into the heart of the city, so too did Kaiba and the companions he did not yet want to call friends. Still reeling from the epic battle with Leviathan, Kaiba had no desire to fly and instead ordered Roland to fly them around in the chopper.

“Mr. Kaiba, we’ve searched all of Domino City and still haven’t found Yugi Muto,” Roland spoke over the intercom. “It’s possible that he could have moved.”

“Or worse…” Duke thought out loud. “He might have drowned!”

“Ugh, stop being a negative Nancy all the time!” Tristan scolded. “It’s good to have some positivity every now and then. Why don’t you try it?”

“Um, guys?” Téa tried to alert her friends to the lone figure who stood on the beach, staring into the sunset.

“It’s called being a realist.” Duke tried to resist the noogies Tristan gave him. “Why don’t you try that?”

“Guys!” Téa’s shout silenced everyone. “It’s Yugi!”

“Huh?” Joey glued his face to the window to get a closer look. “You sure about that? If so, then he’s a little taller than I remember.”

Hearing this, Kaiba stopped nodding off and also took a look outside. “Pharaoh!”

“Roland, over there!” Mokuba got into the cockpit and pointed to where Yami Yugi stood.

“All right, we’ve finally found him!” Roland took a look to the back of the chopper and noticed the door was open, with Kaiba about to jump out. “Mr. Kaiba, what are you doing? You don’t even have a parachute!”

“Hehehe…” Mokuba smiled as Kaiba already began his freefall. “You’ll soon find out that he doesn’t need one.”

A thousand feet later, silver-and-sapphire wings sprouted out of Kaiba’s back, amazing his third-in-command. “Wh-Whoa! Mr. Kaiba can do that?”

“I know it’s cool to watch my brother half-shift, Roland, but you need to fly over there, too.”

“Um… Right!” Roland sharply twirled the steering wheel around as the chopper approached the shore.

Yami Yugi dug the toes of his leather boots into the sand and enjoyed the sound of the sunset breeze. He didn’t want to get up yet, however, as Dark Magician Girl’s last encounter with him stuck in his mind.

I’ll see you when you return home, pharaoh. And no matter what happens, I’ll always be in your deck.

“Back home, huh…” The sea water in the sand started to soak into Yami Yugi’s boots. “After everything that’s happened, am I really prepared for-”

Before Yami Yugi could continue his thoughts, the breeze suddenly got stronger, thanks to the beating of Kaiba’s wings. “Kaiba!”

“Pharaoh…” Kaiba’s tone started off angry as he landed. “Where in the FUCK have you been?! Do you have any idea how long I’ve searched for you, only to find you chilling out on the beach like the loser you are?”

“I… I wasn’t ‘chilling out,’ my love. I was thinking about how I should continue my mission.” Yami Yugi stepped a bit further into the shore. “Now that this world is in peacetime, it’s about time that I go back to my own world, ancient Egypt. But now�� Now, I’m not sure how I should go about doing it. It also bothers me that despite how much I remember about my past, there are a few things I’m forgetting. Not the least of which is my real name.”

“Hmm…” Kaiba gave Yami Yugi’s concerns a few seconds of thought before saying, “How about you join the KC Grand Tournament to get your mind off of things?”

“Oh come on, Kaiba. You know how much I love dueling, but I don’t have the time while my people are suffering.”

“Are they, though? Back when we first time travelled, you said you couldn’t travel before my… past self’s death. But you can travel to any time after, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then we’ve got all the time in the world.” Kaiba gently hugged Yami Yugi from behind, twirling the golden bangs with his index finger. “Is it so weird for me to want to spend more time with the man I love? I miss the days when we had epic duels, when we were in love with one another before either of us knew. We’ve got so many memories to make together, and what better time to start then now?”

“Seto Kaiba…” Yami Yugi took on a playful tone that Kaiba hadn’t heard. “Are you asking me out?”

“Erm… Uh… I suppose you could say that.”

“Hahaha!” Yami Yugi laughed so hard that Kaiba had let him go. “It’s so much fun to listen to you flounder your words.”

“Sh-Shut up! You know I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

“And did you honestly expect me to say ‘no?’” Yami Yugi stopped laughing and took Kaiba’s hands into his own. “I’d love to go out with you, anywhere you’d like.”

“Then… how about that fancy restaurant by the ocean?” Incidentally, this restaurant was so close that Kaiba could see the multicoloured lights shooting out of it. “I know it’s very popular, but at this point, I don’t give a damn. If everyone finds out that the president of KaibaCorp has a boyfriend, then let them find out.”

“So bold.” Yami Yugi held a hand to Kaiba’s face while the taller man still held his other hand. “Just one of the many things I love about you.”

“Mm.” Kaiba could only hum into the kiss that Yami Yugi gave him.

“And another thing.” Yami Yugi brought Kaiba’s ear closer.

“Hmm?”

“I’d certainly love for you to feel me up with that tail of yours again.”

To Kaiba’s horror, he couldn’t form a response before this tender moment was broken with a, “Phaaaaaraoh!”

“Téa!” Yami Yugi broke the hug but still held onto Kaiba’s hands.

“Oh…” Téa could tell from Kaiba’s expression that she nearly walked in on something interesting. “Sorry to crash your date, guys.”

“Mr. Kaiba!” Roland got out of the chopper, only to find his boss holding hands with another man.

“What, Roland? Got something to say?”

“N-Not at all, sir!”

“Good. Because even if you did, I would have just told you to stuff it.”

“Hehehe…” Roland laughed nervously, not wanting to say another word after what he just heard. So he changed the subject. “So, about this new tournament… It’s going to have competitors from all around the world, isn’t it?”

“What, rich boy’s holding another tournament? I’m down for that!”

“Maybe I’ll enter too,” Tristan pondered out loud.

“If all my friends are in, then so am I!” Téa happily proclaimed.

“You’ll all lose before you can get the privilege of facing me, you know,” spoke Kaiba.

“Then how about I use you as target practice?”

“No, Wheeler, I don’t feel like dueling today.” Kaiba began to walk back onto the street, with Yami Yugi close by.

“You’re going to blow off dueling? For what?”

Kaiba took Yami Yugi’s hand into his own, eliciting a curious reaction from the nearby mini crowd. “A date.”

___

Author’s note: The next chapter will begin the season 5 arc. Unlike most of the fanfic so far, this arc will mostly feature original material, and will not cover the KC Grand Tournament.

#yugioh #ygo #prideshipping #fanfiction

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thetygre · 6 years ago

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30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #15: Favorite Great Old One/Monster God

1. Nurgle the Great Unclean One (Warhammer)

I think you can tell a lot about a person by knowing which of the Chaos Gods is there favorite. I’m not saying there’s a right answer, but I’ve always been a Nurgle man myself. Nurgle is more than just the daemon god of disease and entropy; he’s the god of the value of life. Nurgle loves all of his children equally, down to the smallest virus. It can be hard for people to accept that, to realize that they have as much cosmic significance as a single-cell organism, but that’s just because they don’t realize how much love the Urfather has for that little cell. In Nurgle’s phlegmatic embrace, all of us are equal, regardless of race, gender, or cell count.

Nurgle asks only that you spread the love he has so willingly given, so that all may be his children. Death and disease are natural parts of life; we struggle to fight them so, but they always come back to us. Through Nurgle, we may exalt in the power of pus and the greatness gangrene. We grow stronger with each infection, and every tumor is a sign of endurance. We do not die when the Plague Bearer calls us; we merely transform for the vermin and bacteria that consumes us, to be reborn in the eternal cycle. Truly, Grandfather Nurgle moves in wondrous ways.

2. Ithaqua the Wind Walker (August Derleth)

It should come as no surprise that the god of all wendigos is one of my favorite Great Old Ones. The Ithaqua Cycle is probably the best thing August Derleth wrote, for what ever that’s worth. Ithaqua is just such a chilling god; the image of some skull-faced giant thing turning around a mountain is the stuff of nightmares. Ithaqua is the primal urge inside life, the need to do anything to survive in an unrelenting environment. He walks in the cold places of the world, but also in that cold space between worlds, spreading his cannibalistic madness from world to world. Ithaqua himself seems hardly necessary, or the countless wendigos that follow him. It’s the chaos and horror he causes between people in a desperate situation, pitting one man against the other and breaking taboos until only the strongest is left. Ithaqua is the cold and brutality of the North personified.

3. Lolth the Queen of the Demonweb Pits (Dungeons and Dragons)

Lilith is so pastiche these days. You know where the real rebellious queen of evil action is at? Spiders, man, and Lolth is the Spider Queen. Lolth has been in Dungeons and Dragons since the beginning. Wherever the dark elves go, Lolth goes too, like any deity, and her absence from a setting is noticeable. She’s one of D&D’s greatest villains, and countless adventurers have lost their lives in the Demonweb Pits. Her entire realm is an arachnid hell crawling with spiders as small a mite to as big as her spider-golem palace. Lolth is an entity of contrasts; her priesthood is a strict matriarchy, but Lolth herself is absolutely insane. It’s hard to tell if there’s anything left of the elf goddess she used to be. Beneath the layers of scheming, beauty, racially motivated hatred, and plans to conquer the known multiverse lies a beating heart of blind hunger, an overwhelming instinct to survive by strength alone.

4. Saaitii the Hog (William Hope Hodgson)

Saaitii is actually what got this particular entry in the challenge. See, I wanted to do just ‘Top 10 Great Old Ones’, but then I was worried that not everybody would know what the Great Old Ones are and it’s kind of an arbitrary category that Lovecraft wanted people to change from story-to-story for fun, so then I just broadened the category to ‘monster gods’ and now here we are. Anyway, Saaitii is a monster that William Hope Hodgson’s occult detective Thomas Carnacki encountered in his monster-hunting stories. The locals tell Carnacki that Saaitii is the ghost of a boar wrongfully killed long ago, but Carnacki suspects that it’s an extradimensional something using the spirits of dead hogs to try and come through.

First off, I just want to know what William Hope Hodgson’s deal with pigs was. This is explicitly his second pig monster story, following the pig men from The House on the Borderlands. But the usage of that aesthetic is definitely refreshing a little unsettling. In an age of meme-tentacles, we need new and different cosmic horrors. Pigs can be disturbing; we think of them as cute at best and filthy at worst, but rarely evil or malevolent. Even the meanest boar has a kind of nobility to it. But the Hog brings up images of mindless, vicious cruelty, dark things in the forest and filth. The concept of a higher life form like some extradimensional whatsit coming into our world through ‘lower’ lifeforms strikes a little close to the karmic bullseye for some, turning the tables on humanity and reminding us that in the eyes of the cosmos, we’re just so much more food.

5. Ogdru Jahad the Seven Who Are One (Hellboy)

You’d think there’d be more dragons on the list, but so far it’s just the one. Seven. 369. Whatever. The Ogdru Jahad are the Hellboy/BPRD universes Great Old Ones, and the source of… a sizable amount of trouble there. Not all of it, but most of it. At the dawn of time, the Sons of God formed the mud of creation into seven great dragons that were filled with the shadow of the moon, for whatever reason. Things would have been fine and dandy there, but one little angel named Satan, for reasons that are still unclear, took the fire of God and filled the dragon with it, giving the Ogdru Jahad life. The Ogdru Jahad birthed their 369 offspring, and the angels had to fight them off before the whole Creation thing could get rolling. From that day on, every human culture has been warned about the Ogdru Jahad, and they have been ingrained in the human consciousness as the Dragon, from Tiamat to the Beast of Revelations.

It’s a nice fusion of Judeo-Christian Biblical lore and cosmic horror. I honestly don’t think it would work if it wasn’t for the fact that Satan is notably absent from the Hellboy series and, as of BPRD: Hell on Earth, the Ogdru Jahad are winning, where even their smallest children can cause natural disasters. I love conflating the image of dragons with cosmic monsters. Cthulhu as Leviathan, flying polyps as oriental dragons, hunting horrors as wyverns; it’s a direct play to the archetype that both types of creatures fill. The Ogdru Jahad illustrate that perfectly, simultaneously something the most modern of cosmic horror and the most ancient of monsters.

6. Flowey the Flower (Undertale)

Flowey’s final form gets in on design alone. There aren’t a lot of monster designs that actually freak me out, but Flowey is just horrible. Of course that’s also because it’s a genius bit of sprite animation, with the usage of textures contrasting so hard with the rest of Undertale. It looks like something that ate its way inside out from at least three Madoka witches. The claws, the eyes, the mouths; it all makes something perfectly awful and abhorrent. And, of course, the music. I actually think Flowey’s boss theme rates pretty low compared to other Undertale boss themes, but the title is just something else. How are you supposed to do better than “Your Best Nightmare”?

7. Rom the Vacuous Spider (Bloodborne)

It’s Rom. C’mon. Look, I know she’s not actually a Great One; she’s Kin, like Mergo’s Wet Nurse. But look at her. When I think, “What’s my favorite eldritch monstrosity boss from Bloodborne?” I keep coming back to Rom. Just look at her dumb, stupid face. One of her attacks is just falling over. That’s the most relatable a video game has been for me since I was an undergrad. Rom doesn’t want to hurt anybody; she’s just a giant, stupid bug/fungus thing. You could just walk away, man. You could just leave poor Rom alone. She’s doing her best trying to grant people eyes and you’re over here hassling her. In front of her kids, man. Just leave her alone.

8. Moder the Bastard of Loki (The Ritual)

Y’know, as a jotun, this guy could have been on the giant list, but I feel like its design and concept are too unique for that. This is a special monster, a kind of revelatory creature. Its design is just out of this world, blending human and stag and those creepy little eyes. But there’s so much more to it than just a great design. Its ability to create illusions essentially gives it access to shapeshifting, tying it to the actual mythology of Loki and Norse giants. The actual ritual to appease Moder, where it picks a person up and impales them on a tree, is reminiscent of the story in Norse mythology where Odin impales himself on the World Tree Yggdrasil to gain the knowledge of the runes. Before a person is killed, Moder shows them something precious to them, or a defining moment in their life; it is, in its own way, giving the person a revelation about what is vital in their own universe. Moder, like any good monster, delivers a message about the meaning of reality to the people it encounters.

9. Set the Slithering God (Conan the Barbarian/Marvel Comics)

I like this comic book version of a god. The actual Egyptian deity Set is fairly complex, and actually examining his character and divine portfolio gives insight into how Egypt’s culture changes over time. Comic book Set, on the other hand, is the god of snake villains. He is the snake villain to end all snake villains. Marvel cooked him up for their old Conan comics based off an offhand mention in one of Robert E. Howard’s stories because they needed Conan to have a nemesis. So Conan’s nemesis, the arch-wizard/priest Thoth Amon, worships the dark god Set, regardless of the fact that Thoth Amon appeared exactly once in the very first Conan story. Now, it’s fifty years later and Set is apparently one of Marvel’s Primordial Ultra-Deities.

It’s that mixture of traditional myth and the cosmic I like again, though this time it’s less H.P. Lovecraft ‘cosmic horror’ and more Jack Kirby ‘cosmic action’; new gods and a new mythology for a new medium, but still the same old story. Set is the Serpent, like the Ogdru Jahad, manifesting in human lore as everything from the serpent in Eden to Leviathan. He was the first murderer, able to absorb the power of any other god he ate, and even today he seeks reptile supremacy. Wherever there is Set there are snakes, enacting the cosmic cycle of death and rebirth while lounging in decadence.

10. Haos the Ultimate Bio-Weapon (Resident Evil 6)

… We’re going to do this now, and then we’re never going to do it again. Because we’re going to talk about something good that was in Resident Evil 6. One of the most infuriating things about RE6 is that it had some of the most incredible monster designs in the Resident Evil series. Great designs. The kind of monster designs that other games only wish they could achieve. And they were wasted on one of the worst games the series has produced. One of those designs was Haos, the apparent ultimate bio-weapon engineered by (ugh) Neo-Umbrella in a secret facility at the bottom of the ocean good lord I’m putting this on a list with William Hope Hodgson.

Haos deserves a better game; its design is unnecessarily fantastic. It looks like a ningen crossed with a jellyfish. It’s some far future stage of human evolution driven to its most extreme and bizarre form. There’s something forlorn and sad about it, but also beautiful and powerful. Its concept is purely apocalyptic; Haos will rise from the bottom of the ocean before it finally dies and dissolves into a gas that will spread across the world, turning humanity into zombies and monsters. Herald of a world of gods and monsters and all that. Even its name is kind of cool; ‘Haos’ is literally Siberian for ‘chaos’. And every day I have to wake up with the knowledge that this wonderful, horrible monster was stuck at the end of a Resident Evil 6 campaign. It’s depressing. So here’s to good old Haos; at least here you’ll get some respect.

#30 Day Monster Challenge 2 #30 Day Monster Challenge #Great Old Ones #Warhammer #Nurgle #Dungeons and Dragons #Lolth #Hellboy #Undertale #long post

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psychic-echo · 6 years ago

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Yugioh Theory: Mai’s Dark-Side

Okay, so hear me out. Might sound stupid, but I have a theory that Yami Marik wasn't completely destroyed by Marik upon his surrender to the Pharaoh at the end of Battle City. In fact, it might be possible for Yami Marik to be partially responsible for Mai's turn towards the Dark-side during the Doma Arc; in more than a PTSD Nightmare fuel sense.

(Longer version after the break)

So, as stated above, the theory revolves around Mai's personality change in comparison to where she was when she drove off into the sunset at the end of Battle City, and when she comes roaring in as a bad-ass biker babe only 7 episodes later at the start of the Doma Arc.

Mai's motivations as to why she is now a rival of Yugi & co., and has given into the power of the Orichalcos and turned to the dark side, seems a little baffling. Mai is said to want power and become a stronger duelist, but is also suffering from post-traumatic stress and possibly other psychological disorders (Anxiety, etc.) by the mental torture she had to endure in the penalty game imposed on her due to her loss to Yami Marik, in the Battle City Semi-Finals. She thinks she's abandoned by her friends, who no longer care.

To quote her exactly on her motivations: "You've never been an outsider like me, All alone. Duel Monsters is all I have, and after the battle city tournament I set out to become the best. I dueled against chump after chump to improve my dueling skills. I needed to make a name for myself. Even though I won match after match, I didn't feel any stronger as a duelist. In fact, I felt worse, and I certainly wasn't making a name for myself. Not long after that the nightmares began [....] Every night it was the same dream. I was weak, and no one was there to help me! I was at the end of my rope, scared, lonely, pathetic, and my so called friends were no where to be found. "

Well, yeah it's understandable she's fed up with not being considered being in the same league of Duelist or as well recognized as Kaiba, Yugi, and even Joey. It's also understandable she's still traumatized from the events of Battle City, to the point she's convinced herself that she doesn't belong with them, and they don't care about her.

After all; part of the Shadow Game she played in involved her friends being erased from her mind, and her penalty game involved showing her an illusion of her friends being happier and better off without her, completely forgetting about her.

Mai's final scene in Season 3 she exchanges farewells with Joey. She appears to acknowledge the fact that Joey actually does care about her and consider her a friend; and she tells him that the feeling is mutual and she considers them to be friends as well. It's a sweet scene and feels more like a send off to Mai, and the conclusion of her character arc.

That's because in the Manga, Mai's character arc ended with the Conclusion of the Battle City Arc. She is never seen again throughout the rest of the Manga. But of course, that's not the case in the Anime; as she was brought back in season 4 (which was not adapted from an arc in the Manga--as the arc bridging the gap in between the Duelist volumes, and the Millennium World Volumes of the Manga was the 5 volume series Yu-Gi-Oh R, which people tend to forget as being a thing. Though I can see why Yu-Gi-Oh R, was never adapted into Anime; but that's for a future discussion.)

Mai's return as a character, and an antagonist seemed mostly for character motivation for Joey as a secondary protagonist character; giving him more of a mission and reason to be there than just as moral support for Yugi and the Pharaoh. His purpose in this battle against evil, aside from the standard "I promised Yugi I'd help him face whatever evil there was"; becomes more of a rescue mission, repeating a lot of the same steps from the Battle City Finals: showing Mai that she has friends who care about her. Though in the process Mai's motivations for being against them feel more like the writers forgot, or rather, undid, all the development in the past three seasons. But also adding the "inadequacy as a Duelist" subplot--which doesn't get focused on quite as much as the "friendship" thing, or this weird "Love-triangle" subplot between her, Valon, and Joey.

Even when Mai defeats Joey, and the Seal of Orichalcos takes his soul, freeing Mai from it's influence as she sees Joey cares about her enough to risk his own soul. She sees that what she had convinced herself of was wrong:

"I was angry and confused and I blamed all my loneliness on you. So I tried to get rid of you. How could I be so selfish? You're the only one who ever cared about me. You're the closest friend I ever had and how did I repay you? By leaving you for a mad man who promised me power."

That's all fine and good, except now this make time number two that Mai has repeated this arc. Blaming Joey for her loneliness, and her problems, and why her victories seemed to be meaningless and empty. Literally they have the same exchange as the end of Season 3, just done slightly different (with Joey being unconscious). Mai acknowledging Joey's friendship and how much he cares about her and what happens to her, that he was willing to lose everything just to save her.

"Okay, but now....aren't we supposed to be talking about Yami Marik being partially responsible for this relapse and influencing Mai's dark personality, under the power of the Orichalcos? You've yet to actually explain where he fits in to this. All you've done is sort of highlight the baffling writing in Season 4 in regards to Mai."

I'm getting to that. Just needed to establish that we're given the reasons why Mai joined with Dartz's organization. She felt weak and that her friends had abandoned her. She was desperate and miserable. But when Mai left at the end of season 3, she didn't seem like what she was now coming to understand and see would be something she would forget about anytime soon. I'm not sure if it's ever stated how much time passes between Battle City and the events of the Doma Arc, but it's seems like enough for Mai to win a number of tournaments; and have a number of reoccurring nightmares, to be at that point where she's desperate and feeling hopeless right before she encounter Valon, and begin working for Dartz.

So, the main theory; Yami Marik is responsible for Mai's turn to darkness in more than just the memory of their duel and his torturing of her being the source of her PTSD. He may actually be present in Mai's mind and is helping influence all these things. Even if she, and no one else might know.

But we're going to set Mai aside for right now to talk about Yami Marik for a bit, but don't worry these two paths are gonna converge, but I'm sure before I even get to that point. You'll see exactly where Yami Marik fits in to Mai's darkness and backwards progression. If you haven't already and are screaming at me right now to make the point.

We know from what we've seen, Yami Marik was created after Marik's initiation as Tomb Keeper, from Marik's hatred, anger, sadness, among other negative emotions. He's been shown to influence Marik's personality, so it isn't too much of a stretch to say that plenty of Marik's motives and actions as an antagonist were influenced by Yami Marik as a play to gain more power, to eventually become strong enough to possibly over come the suppression which the ritual Odion performed on his face as a sign of solidarity to his little brother, without having to have Odion fall unconscious.

Yami Marik gains power and a greater influence on Marik, through Marik's own actions and emotions and through the pain he inflicts on others; like a vampiric parasite he feeds off of misery, darkness, desperation, hopelessness and evil and negative energies. They sustain him enough to remain present in Marik. He messes with Marik's mind and emotions to keep him miserable and fueling his hatred, just as Marik screwed with the mind and emotions of others through the Millennium Rod's Power.

The idea to use the Millennium Rod's power in this way on others probably came from Yami Marik himself. His influence over Marik has grown in the past few years since the death of Mr. Ishtar. It's become strong enough now that Marik's personality has changed and become this revenge driven, scheming evil master-mind. Of course this greater influence is from the benefit of the power of the Millennium Rod and the shadow-magic within it. He feeds off of the power of the Shadow Realm and the suffering of his victims (including the Rare Hunters he controls, as many of the Rare hunters he's possessed, Like Arcana, Lumis, and the Exodia Rare Hunter, have all been shown to be fearful of him appearing in their mind and taking control of them, when they've failed him.)

(The fact that Yami Marik feeds off of the Shadow-Realm and the Millennium Rod's power can be evidenced through just the change in his appearance among the episodes. He becomes more deranged, and his face becomes all sorts of distorted and those muscles. I mean just....Damn.)

(Yami Marik feeding off the darkness of the Shadow Realm and the torture of his victims; also can be evidenced through a cut scene cut from the 4Kids dub, where after his duel with Joey, in which he narrowly escaped defeat, he is shown momentarily becoming ill, and nearly vomiting, making it almost seem as if the energy he received from the Shadow's in that duel was tainted in some way.)

Okay, so let's talk about the Millennium Rod and it's power at this point. Among the abilities of the Millennium Rod, such as mind-control, and mental mental manipulation, the ability to leave a portion of the owner's mind in the people that he has controlled. This ability was used in a couple instances, such as allowing Marik to appear in Bakura's mind to tell him to enter the Battle City Finals, and to appear to seek Bakura's assistance when Yami Marik took over, and of course using this ability with Tea.

At only one point in the Duels after Yami Marik awakens do we ever see him use the ability to enter into someone's mind. That is right after Mai's loses the Shadow Game against him. He appears to her in her mind, to trap her there inside an hour glass, that once the sand ran out would completely erase everything of her memories. While there he created the illusion to make Mai think her friends were happier without her and that no one was coming to save her.

It's possible that when this happened Yami-Marik left a piece of his mind inside of Mai; in order to appear in her mind, he would have had to do this. Did he intentionally mean to leave this piece of his mind inside of Mai? Maybe. Though the theory still works if it was not intentional; I believe this was intentional.

Why? Because...."I always have a plan."

These are the exact words Marik himself uses shortly after he has his Rare Hunters capture Joey and Tea and they become Marik's mind slaves to lure Yugi into a duel to the death against Joey at the harbor. Marik has been shown many times to have several plans running in action at the same time, (like a good villain). Any time one plan falls through, the next can be put into motion.

Having gained control of Marik's body, no longer being suppressed by Odion, now that he's been struck down; Yami Marik has to try to keep his control. Prior to his awakening (the first time and the recent time); Marik has shown active resistance to his Dark-Sides control, even shortly after losing control, appearing to call out for Ishizu's help, only to be locked up and banished.

Given that Yami-Marik actively goes after Odion multiple times in order to kill him,in order to eliminate the threat of Marik regaining control were Odion to regain conciousness like the last time he was in control; he would have to have plans in play in the probable chance he may be defeated. Even if those plans have to be improvised to a degree; using the only available people around. (It's the finals, there aren't that many people around, you're on an aircraft/island/etc.) He needed a back-up plan incase this all went south, and he was banished. So what are your options at the time? They're pretty damn limited.

You're not going to go after the non-duelists on board. I mean, they probably don't have cards, or any real means of accomplishing the mission to defeat the Pharaoh, or anything else really. They're worthless to you.

Like fuck you're going to try possessing Odion, he's the reason you were supressed in the first place, You'd rather prefer his dead ass chopped up into peices and tossed out into the ocean for the sharks. Because like hell you're taking that risk of bringing him back to conciousness and getting yourself destroyed. I mean, Fuck. That. Shit.

Well, there's Joey---but..he's shown resistance to the Millennium Rod's Mind control before and even managed to break himself free. You can't break his will that easy, and his mind may actively fight you. So, that's a no go.

Kaiba? Kaiba has connections to the ancient past, so the Millennium Rod's power isn't going to work, and besides--there's a chance the Millennium Rod might recognize this connection between Kaiba and it's former wielder and Yami Marik could lose control of the Millennium Rod. You want to keep that. Besides, the only thing you want from Kaiba is his Obelisk the Tormentor. (Wait---that came out wrong.)

As well, You're not going to hide out in this eighth duelist because, they haven't shown their face yet. Who cares who they are. Maybe when and If you have to face them, you can use them. Of course by the time you do find out who they are (surprise of surprises: it's your sister.) you'll have to eliminate them as an option, not only does she have a Millennium item (which she gives up) She also has a connection to the ancient past through the family lineage, so she's probably protected from most of the powers of the Millennium Rod. I predict the future says no on this one.

Bakura's an option--but there's already another dark spirit working there within the Millennium Ring, who's probably already pissed off at you after your weaker half almost got his host obliterated by Silfer in Match 1 of the finals---You need someone who's not going to pose a threat to you. Someone who can't use a millennium item to banish you before you even have a chance. Forget it. Leave the Cream-puff alone; he's got his own problems. Besides, like with Tea, your weaker half might be hiding out there. You'll have to eliminate him and any other pieces of him that might be lurking around anyhow.

So, who's left? Ah, well, isn't it your luck the Blue-Eyes Bingo Machine just puked out your number and that of your first opponent, and what a joy; she's already brimming with feelings of loneliness, isolation, and anger, masked behind the tough-girl lone-wolf Duelist façade. Perfect. You can use this to your advantage for the perfect shadow game and even set her up as your backup plan.

She's got all the negative emotions you can feed off of, to sustain yourself upon should it eventually come down to it. Sure, you're back to square one if your weak half some how gets back in control, and if Odion does regain consciousness, giving your weak half the confidence enough to destroy you and banish you forever from his body. But, hey; if you do enough damage, you can mentally scar her enough to get some sort of advantage should you have to actually rely on your backup plan.

To make things even better; when she loses this game, you can completely destroy her mind. Torture her, and put a timer on her penalty game. Anyone who wants to save her better do it in enough time. Even if this whole "destroy the Pharaoh" plan doesn't work out the way it should; if they don't take you down in enough time; there won't be any Mai left to bring back, and no Mai left to be able to resist your power. You basically get a back-up body to inhabit, without nearly as much of the work you had to put in to Marik. (And even better, Odion won't be able to stop you, that whole ritual thing that been suppressing you probably only works with Marik...and you won't be him. so yay.)

Anyhow, It seems like a perfect set up for a back up plan. However as I mentioned before, the theory still works on the idea it was all accidental and Yami Marik didn't know he was leaving a piece of his mind behind in order to enter into Mai's mind. He only finds out about this after appearing in Mai's mind sometime after the end of Battle City and her departure from the group.

Either way, sometime after Yami Marik is defeated; he appears inside of Mai's mind. Mai's acknowledgement of her friendship with the others has occurred and now she's off on her own with that confidence in her heart. For now. Yami-Marik is back at square one with his power, back like when Marik was still a kid. Well, that is enough. You can still mess with her mind. Bring up those old scars, and traumas. Put the power of suggestion in her head.

All it takes is that first tournament win. Yami Marik takes the joy from it, just by the power of suggestion. Make her believe it's an empty win, and it makes her no stronger than before. She might have won, but what's the point? No friends to share the victory with? It makes her miserable, thinking something is wrong with her. Her misery makes him stronger. Repeatedly again and again, sucking the joy from the only thing Mai has in her life at the moment. It drives her mad, and she can't understand what the reason for it is.

He suggests to her it's because she'll never be a respected Duelist. Yugi, Kaiba, Joey, those are the real stars; those are the real duelists, and she's fooling herself if she thinks anyone will consider her in their league. Of course the words she's been hearing from her competition, and others only reinforces this idea.

Then the nightmares start. Now he can confront her, he can bring back those memories of her loss in Battle City. He can torture her more. Really drive home the fact she's alone, she's weak, and make her believe no one cares and she'd have been better of in the shadows, forgotten about. It makes her desperate. She slips into depressive state, and really starts to believe that her friends don't care. Now she's absolutely miserable, and Yami-Marik can sustain himself for quite some time. She feels hopeless, and it's difficult to find the positive when there seems to be nothing left to make her happy, or have a sense of worth and purpose in the world. She can't talk to anyone about it, because her "Mind" has convinced her they don't care, because they haven't tried to contact her, and she would be bothering them if she tried to contact them. She's convinced they only tolerate her, but don't actually think she's a friend. Despite all evidences to the contrary.

He's basically undid every piece of character development Mai's ever had. Then something Yami Marik didn't count on happens. Valon crosses paths with Mai. He's defeats her in a duel, the first person to do that since Yami Marik himself. Valon could be trouble with his promises of giving her friendship and a sense of belonging. However, there is something else Valon promises to show Mai if she goes with him; true power. Valon says Dartz, the man he's working for has power, and that Power can belong to Mai.

Power? Now that has Yami Marik's interest. He's greedy. Sustaining himself off of Mai's misery is fine, but what he really needs is a boost of power. Something which might allow him to take a greater influence on Mai, maybe actually take control of her. Mai's desperate anyways, and convinced she's weak. Here Valon is offering friendship and power to over-come the nightmares and become a stronger person. The idea sounds appealing to her, so she goes.

The minute she is given the power of the Orichalcos through Dartz, Yami Marik takes greater control, now boosted by the dark power of the Orichalcos. It's not the power of the Millennium items but it's a dark power that will do for now, until he can get his hands on a Millennium item. It turns into an even better luck this power comes with a mission. Destroy Pegasus and Destroy the Pharaoh. (The Pharaoh is who Yami Marik is really after; destroying Pegasus is an added bonus.) Even better, if it's the Pharaoh we're after then Wheeler isn't going to be too far behind.

Joey must be eliminated. Yami Marik has already started to convince Mai a lot of her problems stem from Joey in some form or another. He's a cause for her loneliness. If Mai is ever going to be respected as a Duelist, and ever going to be happy ever again; she needs to get rid of him.

Though, the truth is a little more off than this. Joey is a threat. He's already shown amazing friendship, courage, and dedication to his friends and to Mai, risking his own life. Mai knows this and has come to accept this, and there is a piece of her still deep under all the shadows in her heart which remembers this. Basically, Joey had become to Mai what Odion was to Marik. A source of encouragement and a pillar of strength. A threat to the control Yami Marik has over his host. He must be eliminated.

I say Yami Marik has partial control over Mai, in the fact that frequently during her duel with Joey whenever she is explaining why she took a turn towards evil, she refers to herself in a third person;

"[....] the Mai you knew is gone, I traded in her soul for power. The old Mai was too lonely and pathetic, the girl was just holding me back. So I did what I had to. I sent her packing. Now my weak side is gone for good."

Oddly enough Mai, who is supposed to be the same person and hasn't spawned a "Dark" personality in spite of the Orichalcos, rather just changed personality to become tougher, refers to herself as her "weak-side", now---who else has called their other half their "weaker self?" Oh, right, Yami Marik.

On a side note: A lot Yami-Marik's dialouge in Mai's nightmares mirror words which Yami Marik said when Marik (in Tea's Body) confronted him ontop of the Duel-Tower before the finals of the tournament took place. In the dream Yami Marik says to Mai:

"I told you you're weak, you don't belong in this world. So I'm banishing you into the shadows where you'll spend all eternity."

To Marik he said:

"I'm afraid you're too weak now. Marik, I'm the real you, and you're nothing but a small peice of my memory [...] Sorry Marik, but it's time for me to banish what's left of you into the Shadows where you belong."

He speaks to Mai in her Nightmare as if she is now the personality he has to contend with for control.

Anyhow. So now Mai is being controlled by Yami Marik through the power of the Orichalcos. He's only able to take control through the Orichalcos, but still has influences on her personality outside of it. So Mai sets out to accomplish the mission Yami Marik had initially started out to do before his defeat.

"but----wait. We see Yami Marik appear in that valley of the dead area with all the ghosts and shit. Like implying he's dead so what do you make of that?" Well, Weevil is there too and he's not dead, he just doesn't have his soul anymore. Besides; like 99% of Yami Marik was destroyed, so yeah he's technically dead, even if a peice of his soul/mind is hiding out inside of Mai. I mean, they think he's dead too. So, yeah. (Also, the Paradox brothers are there….and we know they’re not dead.)

Whenever Mai is on her way to stop Valon and Joey from Dueling later in the episode. She does have a breif moment where she has a flare-up in the orichalcos controlling her, but it appears only after there is a breif image of Yami Marik appearing in her mind, as she declares she isn't going to go back to that place.

However, Mai's good personality starts to fight back as she watches Valon and Joey fight, realizing both of them care for her as a friend. Something in her heart sparks at the memory of seeing Joey nearly bite the dust in the duel, and she starts to fight back against Yami Marik. She starts to fight for control, because now she sees what she was led to believe was wrong.

The moment Mai is unable to attack Joey in her duel against him, in order to win; Mai remembers everything between her and Joey. How he and his friends made her feel welcome and understand friendship for the first time on Duelist Kingdom. But most importantly, she remembers the unspoken words between them as she left at the end of Battle City, and Joey's message finally gets through to her. "I'll always be your friend." With just that, Mai is able to over come Yami-Marik's influence, and the dark power of the Orichalcos which has also been messing with her mind. With Yami-Marik having been feeding off the power of the Orichalcos, when the stone shatters, the last of his mind is gone. He is dead. She is free of her darkness. (Maybe? At the very least she cut off his power boost.)

Now Mai has realized the damage "she" has done; the fact Joey has lost his soul because of her, and she let herself be controlled by giving in to Dartz power. She has to make things right. She has to make it up to joey and Valon for all the shit they've had to go through because of her. It's time to try to face Dartz. .....and promptly get your soul stolen by Raphael. (Dissappointing, and it all happens off screen too. It would have been cool to see Mai getting to use Hermos in a duel against Raphael. but oh well.)

The whole season ends and now Mai finds herself free of her darkness, and the influence of her past. Maybe some day, she can truely forgive herself for the horrible things she allowed to happen to her friends, but until that time comes she knows she has the support of her friends and they'll never forget about her and she'll never forget about them.

I know it's not a perfect theory, but It's a fun theory to play with none the less, and might make for an interesting fanfiction. Seriously, Go back and watch the Orichalcos arc and any of Mai's appearances in the season with the idea of Yami-Marik being present/controlling her (A couple of Joey's lines and Mai's reactions become interesting, and the duel between Joey and Mai becomes a bit of an interesting paralell with Joey and Yami-Marik's duel. Joey being drained of energy and getting weaker as the duel wears on, and the duel being won due to the fact of Joey collapsing from exhaustion. Even Joey's reasons for dueling are the same. To save Mai.) --

Anyhow, I hope that you guys found this theory as interesting of an idea as I have and might want to do something with it. (I know I will probably be doing a few things with it...and have already started on a couple of projects involving the idea.) I thought it'd be interesting to share, even if I let myself get a little carried away with the idea and explaining it.

Want to go back and watch Yugioh Duel Monsters from Episode one? Buy the DVDs. Don't have that much money? The entire series is available to watch for free on Yugioh.com. (It's the 4Kids English Dub, for the original Duel Monsters so if you aren't a fan of it, I don't recommend you heading over there and watching it, but let the rest of us enjoy it okay?).

-- Until next time!

#Yugioh #Theories #Mai Valentine #Mai Kujaku #Marik Ishtar #Yami Marik #Malik Ishtar #Yami Malik #seal of orichalcos #doma arc #Season4 #LONG post

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meditationadvise · 5 years ago

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Cooling the Raging Fires of Anger

Recently I discovered myself in an intensive treatment system at the bedside of an enjoyed one. Obviously, I was loaded with strong feelings of shock, worry, as well as fear. I additionally observed exactly how quickly those feelings, and the ideas accompanying them, changed into temper. It forecasted itself onto anything in my area of understanding, from the personnel, to the machines, to myself. I was also angry at the individual before me who needed vital care.

Fortunately my liked one survived the health dilemma, as well as in the days that followed, my experience in the ICU caused me to reflect once more on the nature of anger-- to come to be much more keenly aware of temper in myself and also in others.

Anger triggers a lot suffering in our personal partnerships and also in our society. Its effects vary from squabbles with our spouse to battles between countries. Our own rage creates enduring to others, usually those we love most, and also their temper creates us suffering. Anger as well as the injuries it triggers resound throughout life.

In my life and also in my work, I have found that there is no cure all, no instantaneous fix, for temper. Yet I have discovered that mindfulness could assist calm the temper we feel as well as protect us from being hijacked into words and also actions we later are sorry for. When I remained in the ICU, I really felt privileged that mindfulness training helped me identify my rage. It enabled me to stay existing with empathy for all the suffering occurring there, as opposed to eyelashing out at some regarded mild or injustice. Mindfulness brightened the ideas of sorrow and susceptability that the scenario evoked in me. It aided me see that just listed below my rage I was grasped by anxiety of losing he or she I loved. It was this that was sustaining my anger.

What are the causes and also conditions that stimulate and reinforce rage? What ready ways to navigate rage as it develops? How can mindfulness and also reflection practice help?

Scientists claim that people developed effectively in part since we have strong emotions, including supposed "negative" emotions such as anger, anxiety, as well as unhappiness. These shield us due to the fact that they function as warning bells to alert us that something is incorrect. They tell us we can be in risk and also that we should take action.

What we are experiencing and calling "anger" is really a complicated and unfolding collection of mental and also physical events made to assist us deal with a feasible hazard or the experience of pain or discomfort. When rage occurs, our instinctive feedback is to deal with back against the hazard or uncomfortable sensation, and also actually the experience of rage is constructed to aid us do that. Especially, most feeling scientists concur that anger is composed of a fight-or-flight response in mind and also body, plus a persistent internal narrative of ideas as well as ideas about what has taken place or might happen next.

Anger is Not Solid

Have you ever been sprinkling your yard and also all of a sudden observed a lovely expression of light and also shade show up in the stream of your garden hose pipe? We call this a rainbow, yet really that's only a name for something that arises from several non-rainbow components. It takes sunshine, water, and also other conditions to find with each other momentarily for the experience we call rainbow to show up. And when one or more conditions change, the rainbow disappears.

Anger resembles that. It is made of non-anger aspects. Exercising mindfulness helps you see those aspects and overview you to earn options about how you can connect to them.

For instance, if you become conscious that temper is developing in you, you can opt to take a breath mindfully and go back from it.

Or you might decide to consider it a lot more deeply. Without judging yourself, you could merely make inquiries, "Exactly what are the feelings as well as thoughts existing in this minute?"

Or, being conscious that anger is in you, you might recognize it as the momentary experience of suffering as well as touch it-- and also yourself-- with compassion as well as kindness.

Anger, like every little thing else, occurs in the here and now moment. The problems that integrate to develop an experience of temper appear, transform, as well as depart moment by minute. Ending up being a lot more mindful helps you remain in the present minute, observing exactly how temper occurs as well as subsides right away. This makes you less susceptible to hijacking by anger-- as well as better, too.

Working with anger can be as basic (but not always simple!) as ending up being a lot more mindful of anger when it arises in today moment. Here are some practice-based means to assist you do that.

Stopping to See Your Anger

We can get caught in a tornado of rage over nearly anything. It is a large difficulty to tip back and also disentangle ourselves from the surging current of heated emotions, extreme bodily sensations, and also extreme ideas carrying us forward.

Because of your natural mindfulness, there will at some point come a minute when you acknowledge that you are captured in upset feelings. Because split second of awareness, understanding how you can quit and disentangle from the ongoing mad responses in mind and body is critical.

There are lots of efficient means, based in mindfulness, empathy, as well as knowledge, to quit being swept away by rage. Below is one you might experiment with.

Practice: Name the Feeling

Noticing you are really feeling upset or annoyed, pause and take a few conscious breaths. Delicately place focus on your body and the sensations of breathing or, if it aids, deliberately take a few deeper breaths. Continue to be existing and carefully observe the altering sensations of each in-breath and each out-breath.

Name the feeling you are experiencing: "This is temper." Simply discover. You don't have to remove it. Breathing mindfully, whisper the name a few more times. Exactly what do you notice now?

Understanding Your Anger

As we discover more effective means to quit and get out of intense sensations of temper, we instantly equip ourselves to look a bit better at the causes as well as conditions that are creating and enduring our sensations of anger as well as aversion.

Once on a reflection retreat, I experienced a duration of method loaded with such extreme rage and also terrible images they really frightened me. When I asked the teacher for assistance, he told me to look more deeply. "Below rage is worry," he claimed. "Under anxiety is a fixed belief. Just what is the belief that is owning your worry as well as rage?"

An strategy advised by therapists as well as mindfulness instructors alike is to ask ourselves if the frightening belief underlying our anger and also fear is actually true. It is practical to ask ourselves, "Am I in danger in this moment? Why? Exactly how?"

I call this analysis the "framework of anger," and also I have located it an extremely valuable approach to comprehending the causes and also problems sustaining as well as receiving rage in me. Remarkably, the technique works just as well for temper at a horrific exterior occasion such as the Boston Marathon bombings, or for an annoying encounter with a complete stranger on the road. All that's needed is to quit and check out the sensation deeply as well as mindfully, asking as well as listening with a spirit of curiosity.

Here is a reflection technique you might utilize to recognize the structure of anger.

Practice: Just What is Making Me Angry

When you see anger, inflammation, or stronger feelings such as rage or hatred occurring in you, quit and spend some time to be much more mindful of them.

Apply stable focus on your body by really feeling the moving experiences as you move or the subtler interior ones if you are sitting still. Relaxing your interest on your breathing, take a couple of conscious breaths, discovering the different sensations as the in-breath and the out-breath come and also go in various areas in your body.

You do not have to do anything special. Simply kick back as well as trust your recognition to observe. Enable yourself to relax because awareness.

When focus steadies as well as you can feel the experiences of your body or your breath more clearly, ask some easy inquiries while relaxing in recognition: Exactly what is upsetting about this scenario? What am I thinking that is worrying or frightening me? Just what is making me upset, depressing, or dissatisfied appropriate now?

Practice without judging on your own or should repair anything. Breathing with awareness, provide your conscious inquiries with a spirit of interest, paying attention delicately for any action that your natural intelligence as well as knowledge creates in response to your questions.

Befriending Your Anger

Anger is an expression of hostility to and also denial of the reality unraveling in today minute. Remarkably, when you look much more deeply inside yourself, you may locate that various other sensations, such as irritability, aggravation, animosity, and also boredom, can additionally be expressions of dislike and also denial of what is taking place now.

It is useful to bring mindfulness to any one of these sensations of disliking or declining when they develop. You might choose to focus mindfully on a particular expression of hostility. For instance, you could choose: "Today I am being conscious of boredom when it remains in me."

It is similarly crucial to see your feelings regarding having upset, denying sensations. Do you really feel upset at being annoyed, or tired? Are you angry at feeling angry?

Besides sharing a typical feeling of dislike as well as rejection of some aspect of the present moment, the other thing that temper, scorn, irritation, monotony, and their like share is that when they occur, we suffer.

When you identify that suffering is existing when you feel anger and also aversion, you can pick generosity and compassion rather than self-criticism and also dislike for your experience. Right here is a brief practice you could use to check out being even more caring when the discomfort of temper sees you.

Practice: Offering Compassion

When you notice feelings of anger or aversion inside, time out and also breathe mindfully. Name the feeling: "Rage is right here now." "Boredom is right here now." Allow it be and also look deeply.

Breathing mindfully, name it also as suffering: "This is the sensation of suffering." "Experiencing is here now."

As long as really feels safe to you, allow yourself to soften into this minute. Breathing mindfully, depend on your ability to hold the suffering of temper and hostility, as well as yourself, compassionately and also in awareness. Do this the same method you would be existing and also expand empathy to an enjoyed one in pain.

Offer yourself empathy with an expression, silently whispering it as you breathe: "May I be safe and safeguarded." "May I be at ease." "May this scenario teach me concerning the real nature of life." Pay attention deeply to any type of action that complies with. Let your knowledge as well as benefits of heart overview you forward.

Anger, hostility, refuse, and other rejecting, turning down emotions belong to our lot as people. We are not failings since we experience these intense sensations. It is how we respond when they develop in us that makes all the difference. Rage as well as ill will certainly are educators and possibilities for insight and also growth. Fulfilling these feelings with mindfulness and also empathy can direct you to the lessons they have to supply-- as well as assist you find tranquility amidst all life's difficulties.

#meditation #meditation for beginners

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pope-francis-quotes · 7 years ago

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8th September >> Pope Francis addresses Colombian prayer for National Reconciliation: Full text (Photo ~ Pope Francis waves to Colombians from aboard his Popemobile - AP) (Vatican Radio) Pope Francis participated in a prayer for National Reconciliation in the Las Malocas Park in Villavicencio on Friday during his Apostolic Visit to Colombia, expressing his desire to be with the Colombian people who, he said, are carrying in their hearts and their flesh the signs of tragic events they have faced. Addressing the people gathered for the prayer event, Pope Francis said he had been waiting for the moment from the time of his arrival. He said he wished to be close to the people and to see them with his own eyes, in order to open his heart to their witness of life and faith. Making the suffering the people of Colombia have gone through his own, the Holy Father said he wished to embrace them all and weep with them, asking them to pray for one another and ask forgiveness together so that together they could go forward in faith and hope. The Pope was moved as he listened to the testimonies of four people. He said their stories were not just of suffering and anguish, but also, and above all, that they were stories of love and forgiveness which speak to us of life and hope; stories of not letting hatred, vengeance or pain take control of our hearts. Please find below the official English translation of the Pope's prepared speech: Villavicencio Friday, 8 September 2017 Dear Brothers and Sisters, I have been looking forward to this moment since my arrival in your country. You carry in your hearts and your flesh the signs of the recent, living memory of your people which is marked by tragic events, but also filled with heroic acts, great humanity, and the noble spiritual values of faith and hope. I come here with respect and with a clear awareness that, like Moses, I am standing on sacred ground (cf. Ex 3:5). A land watered by the blood of thousands of innocent victims and by the heart-breaking sorrow of their families and friends. Wounds that are hard to heal and that hurt us all, because every act of violence committed against a human being is a wound in humanity’s flesh; every violent death diminishes us as people. I am here not so much to speak, but to be close to you and to see you with my own eyes, to listen to you and to open my heart to your witness of life and faith. And if you will allow me, I wish also to embrace you and weep with you. I would like us to pray together and to forgive one another – I also need to ask forgiveness – so that, together, we can all look and walk forward in faith and hope. We have gathered at the feet of the Crucifix of Bojayá, which witnessed and endured the massacre of more than a hundred people, who had come to the Church for refuge on 2 May 2002. This image has a powerful symbolic and spiritual value. As we look at it, we remember not only what happened on that day, but also the immense suffering, the many deaths and broken lives, and all the blood spilt in Colombia these past decades. To see Christ this way, mutilated and wounded, questions us. He no longer has arms, nor is his body there, but his face remains, with which he looks upon us and loves us. Christ broken and without limbs is for us “even more Christ”, because he shows us once more that he came to suffer for his people and with his people. He came to show us that hatred does not have the last word, that love is stronger than death and violence. He teaches us to transform pain into a source of life and resurrection, so that, with him, we may learn the power of forgiveness, the grandeur of love. I thank our brothers and sisters who have shared their testimonies with us, on behalf of so many others. How good it is for us to hear their stories! I am moved listening to them. They are stories of suffering and anguish, but also, and above all, they are stories of love and forgiveness that speak to us of life and hope; stories of not letting hatred, vengeance or pain take control of our hearts. The final prophecy of Psalm 85 – “Mercy and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other” (v. 10) – follows the working of grace and the petition to God: “Restore us!” Thank you, Lord, for the witness of those who inflicted suffering and who ask for forgiveness; for the witness of those who suffered unjustly and who forgive. This is only possible with your help and presence… this is already a great sign of your desire to restore peace and harmony in this land of Colombia. Pastora Mira, you put it well: you want to place all your suffering, and that of the thousands of victims, at the feet of Jesus Crucified, so that united to his suffering, it may be transformed into blessing and forgiveness so as to break the cycle of violence that has reigned over Colombia. You are right: violence leads to more violence, hatred to more hatred, death to more death. We must break this cycle which seems inescapable; this is only possible through forgiveness and reconciliation. And you, dear Pastora, and so many others like you, have shown us that this is possible. Yes, with the help of Christ alive in the midst of the community, it is possible to conquer hatred, it is possible to conquer death and it is possible to begin again and usher in a new Colombia. Thank you, Pastora; you have helped us greatly today by the witness of your life. It is the Crucified One of Bojayá who has given you this strength to forgive and to love, to help you to see in the shirt that your daughter Sandra Paola gave to your son Jorge Aníbal not only a remembrance of their deaths, but the hope that peace will finally triumph in Colombia. We are also moved by what Luz Dary said in her testimony: that the wounds of the heart are deeper and more difficult to heal than those of the body. This is true. Even more important, you realized that it is not possible to live with resentment, but only with a love that liberates and builds. And so you also began to heal the wounds of other victims, to rebuild their dignity. This going out of yourself has enriched you, has helped you look ahead, find peace and serenity and a reason to keep moving forward. I thank you for the crutch you have given me. Although you still have physical side-effects from your injuries, your spiritual gait is fast and steady, because you think of others and want to help them. Your crutch is a symbol of the more important crutch we all need, which is love and forgiveness. By your love and forgiveness you are helping so many people to walk in life. Thank you. I wish to acknowledge also the powerful testimony of Deisy and Juan Carlos. You have helped us to understand that, in the end, in one way or another, we too are victims, innocent or guilty, but all victims. We are all united in this loss of humanity that means violence and death. Deisy has said it clearly: you realized that you yourself were a victim and you needed to be given a chance. So you started to study, and now you work to help victims and prevent young people from falling into the snares of violence and drugs. There is also hope for those who did wrong; all is not lost. Of course justice requires that perpetrators of wrongdoing undergo moral and spiritual renewal. As Deisy said, we must make a positive contribution to healing our society that has been wounded by violence. It can be difficult to believe that change is possible for those who appealed to a ruthless violence in order to promote their own agenda, protect their illegal affairs so they could gain wealth, or claim – dishonestly – that they were defending the lives of their brothers and sisters. Undoubtedly, it is a challenge for each of us to trust that those who inflicted suffering on communities and on a whole country can take a step forward. It is true that in this enormous field of Colombia there is nevertheless room for weeds… You must be attentive to the fruit… care for the wheat and do not lose peace because of the weeds. When the sower finds weeds mingled with the wheat, he or she is not alarmed. Search for the way in which the Word becomes incarnate in concrete situations and produces the fruit of new life, even if it appears to be imperfect or incomplete (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 24). Even when conflicts, violence and feelings of vengeance remain, may we not prevent justice and mercy from embracing Colombia’s painful history. Let us heal that pain and welcome every person who has committed offences, who admits their failures, is repentant and truly wants to make reparation, thus contributing to the building of a new order where justice and peace shine forth. As Juan Carlos has let us glimpse in his testimony, throughout this long, difficult, but hopeful process of reconciliation, it is also indispensable to come to terms with the truth. It is a great challenge, but a necessary one. Truth is an inseparable companion of justice and mercy. Together they are essential to building peace; each, moreover, prevents the other from being altered and transformed into instruments of revenge against the weakest. Indeed, truth should not lead to revenge, but rather to reconciliation and forgiveness. Truth means telling families torn apart by pain what happened to their missing relatives. Truth means confessing what happened to minors recruited by violent people. Truth means recognizing the pain of women who are victims of violence and abuse. I wish finally, as a brother and a father, to say this: Colombia, open your heart as the People of God and be reconciled. Fear neither the truth nor justice. Dear people of Colombia: do not be afraid of asking for forgiveness and offering it. Do not resist that reconciliation which allows you to draw near and encounter one another as brothers and sisters, and surmount enmity. Now is the time to heal wounds, to build bridges, to overcome differences. It is time to defuse hatred, to renounce vengeance, and to open yourselves to a coexistence founded on justice, truth, and the creation of a genuine culture of fraternal encounter. May we live in harmony and solidarity, as the Lord desires. Let us pray to be builders of peace, so that where there is hatred and resentment, we may bring love and mercy (cf. Prayer attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi). I wish to place all of these intentions before the image of the Crucified One, the black Christ of Bojayá: * * * O black Christ of Bojayá, who remind us of your passion and death; together with your arms and feet they have torn away your children who sought refuge in you. O black Christ of Bojayá, who look tenderly upon us and in whose face is serenity; your heart beats so that we may be received in your love. O black Christ of Bojayá, Grant us to commit ourselves to restoring your body. May we be your feet that go forth to encounter our brothers and sisters in need; your arms to embrace those who have lost their dignity; your hands to bless and console those who weep alone. Make us witnesses to your love and infinite mercy. ColombiaPope in ColombiaApostolic visitNational reconciliation08/09/2017

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sour--strawberries · 8 years ago

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Dumb genius

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Tony starts to hate his additional pounds which leads to starving and self hatred and feeling unworthy of dating a person like Steve. Luckily, Steve knows better

length: 1 243 words

warnings: body acceptance fic with chubby!Tony, mentions of alcoholism

a/n: filling in more prompts! this fic is a bit on the sad side, but has a happy ending. hope you like it!

———

Dumb genius

Tony groaned, doing his best to suck his stomach in. Almost, almost there... Done! He managed to pull the zipper up and even button the black slacks. He looked in the mirror, turning around. Not bad. He just couldn't breathe. That was a minor discomfort. He also noticed that the material clung around his hips and butt. Nothing a long jacket wouldn't fix. If only the jacket would fit too, that was…

Giving up, Tony groaned louder, sliding a hand down his face. When did it happen that he stopped fitting in his own pants? He noticed that he had gained a bit of weight, but didn't realize that it was that bad. Damn sweatpants with elastic. They mislead him as the material was stretching with his growing waist, and he didn't think that it was so bad.

"Babe, are you ready?!"

"Just a sec!" Tony called back. They were almost late for the gala. He took his jacket and walked out of the bedroom, praying that his pants won't rip.

Steve beamed a smile, seeing his boyfriend. "Handsome as ever," he complimented Tony, kissing his cheek delicately. Tony gave a weak smile as an answer. Of course, Steve loved him no matter what. At least, that was what Tony liked to think.

"Oh, by the way, did you like the roast I made today? Used a new mix of herbs," Steve asked with a smile, meaning the lunch, he had brought to the workshop earlier. Tony tried to keep a stone face, his thought traveling to the roast with potatoes and gravy, perfect and juicy and delicious, that was left untouched and joined the launches from the whole week in the trash can. Tony felt bad about wasting food, but he couldn't let himself gain even another pound and it was sooo easy to do that, as Steve's religion was adding butter to everything.

"Yeah, it was great," Tony tried to make his smile a bit more real, even if his stomach painfully clenched at the lie. He ordered it to shut up and burn all the fat he already had on him.

"Hope you have some room for the food at the gala," Steve smiled, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's waist. Of course, Tony had plenty of room. He would have to fill himself with water to not eat anything.

***

It turned out harder than he expected. All kinds of cooked meats, tasty sandwiches, and bite sized desserts oozing with cream and chocolate. And here he was, sipping water with lemon and mint leaves. He won't make it. He won't. Just one bite, just one smoked plum wrapped in caramelized bacon... And then his hand instead of the plum brushed a bottle with scotch.

That would do too.

***

It wasn't the first time, Steve had to escort a drunk Tony. There was just something odd about this particular situation. It took only two glasses of scotch on the rocks, to practically knock the brunet down. Steve knew that Tony had a stronger head than this.

"Okay, back home," Steve hummed quietly, laying his boyfriend across the bed. He reached his hands to undo Tony's pants, but his hand was slapped away.

"Don't," Tony hiccuped out and Steve looked up, seeing his boyfriend's determined face, not understanding what caused it.

Maybe it was the alcohol or tiredness or something else, but Tony's face from determined changed into an almost crying one. "I don't want you to see me like this..." he said quietly, throwing arms over his face.

Steve didn't understand. Like what? He didn't have to ask, as Tony curled on his side and muttered something about being disgusting.

"Hey now," Steve put his hand over Tony's cheek, trying to get his attention. "What are you talking about? You are not disgusting," he assured.

Tony zipped his mouth, shying away from the touch. The silent stream of drunk self loathing continued and with time Steve caught that the word 'fat' was appearing a lot, followed by 'disgusting' and 'tried to diet'.

"Diet?" Steve asked. What diet? He would know if Tony was dieting, he was the one preparing all of his meals --- oh. Steve bit his bottom lip. When he thought more about it, the plates he collected from the lab were always perfectly clear. Even too perfectly, as Tony usually left some bits behind, like some chopped parsley, or potatoes he didn't manage to fit in. Suddenly, Steve became afraid to look into the trash can under brunet's desk.

"Stupid…" Tony muttered, this time not meaning himself, but the trouser, painfully digging into his skin. Steve understood why Tony wiggled his hips and didn't wait for a 'no', undoing the top button and zipper, pulling the pants down. He saw a red, painful strip from the place the material pinned into the skin.

"Dammit, Tony," he gasped quietly, imagining the pain the brunet had to endure the whole evening. Tony didn't say a word, looking everywhere but not on his soldier. Steve had to feel disgusted by him.

"You are so stupid," Steve shook his head, quietly chiding, "so, so stupid," he continued, undressing him, until there was only underwear left. Surprisingly, Tony didn't even protest or tried to move away, too drunk and sad to even think about doing any of those things.

"I wish you could see yourself how I see you," Steve whispered, taking Tony's weak hand and pressing it to his cheek. "Smart, beautiful and sexy. You are a whole package," he said with love, meaning every word. He loved every part of him. Starting from the small feet, a bit rough on the edges from walking barefoot whenever he could, through the soft, pudgy tummy, the scarred chest from the arc reactor and ending on the top of his head, where brown hair were curling funnily, whenever they had a chance to grow slightly longer.

Tony huffed, his eyes sad, contrasting with Steve's love filled one. "You only say that because you love me," he complained.

At first, Tony didn't understand why Steve smiled like that. It was an honest, loving smile. The kind of smile that can't be taught or schooled, one that comes naturally and can't be hidden when encountering something breathtakingly beautiful. Steve gave the other man all the time he needed to figure it out on his own.

Tony blinked, when it all finally clicked in his head. All this time, he was worried that Steve would leave him and find someone slimmer and he starved to be sexy again. For Steve, he was sexy the whole time.

"Oh," tumbled out of his mouth, and Steve laughed at the adorably confused face.

"I love you so much," the soldier smiled, sinking down and laying behind Tony's back, cuddling with him, hands splayed against the soft stomach. "My dumb genius," he whispered softly and kissed his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Mmm," Tony hummed, the alcohol leaving his head and his heart filling up with hope and love. He was loved. No matter what. Sometimes it was still hard for him to believe it. "I love you too," he whispered softly, groaning in delight when strong fingers massaged his belly, easing the pain from the red mark, "now I love you even more."

Steve laughed into his boyfriend's shoulder and pulled the covers over them, already planning a filling, nutritious breakfast for starters, to make up for all the lost meals.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #chubby!tony #superhusbands #stevetony #body issues #body acceptance #weight acceptance #weight issues #fanfic #fanfiction #somehow it is getting harder and harder to come up with new scenarios for chubby!tony fics #still love them

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sezandthesearchforserenity · 8 years ago

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A reflection.

I’m not one to open up or talk about things close to me. I’m someone who is very guarded and only let’s an extreme minority of people actually see the real me (the person behind the constant smiles, laughs and extreme sass/sarcasm). Lately I haven’t been doing great in the slightest and as a way of hiding myself from the world, I’ve avoided nearly every single person I know and have completely shut down parts of me. Why aren’t I doing so great? Well, there’s a magnitude of reasons but I think a huge one that I’ve put a lot of weight onto is the fact that it’s been 7 years since my attack. I remember at my lowest point seven years ago I read that “every single cell in your body is destroyed and replaced every seven years.” I held onto that. I held onto the dream and comfort of knowing that in seven years, my body would never have been touched by that person. I was such a disney princess for thinking this scientific and physical element would heal my traumatized brain. Coping with the fact that knowing that seven years has passed has not been as comforting as I’d have liked. It has actually lead me to the opposite downward spiral. I’ve felt helpless. I’ve felt sick. I’ve felt broken. I’ve actually vomited more times in this past month than I think I have done my entire life with the extreme stupid anxiety I’ve harbored onto not feeling “recovered”. Did I think I’d wake up and be a different person? Have a stronger soul? Have entire memories erased? I’ve been able to push through things with the hope that there was a light, there was going to be change. Now that I know seven years passing does not equate to an “obliviate” charm.... it’s time to actually do something about these memories instead of constantly suppressing and pretending it didn’t happen. I really don’t like to consider myself a victim. I actually strongly despise that term. it makes me feel weak when I know that what I’ve endured and done with my life has been strong, brave and courageous (regardless of that particular attack). I don’t like to talk about what happened to anyone, particularly in detail and honestly/ignorantly believed that if I never spoke about it, it would slowly decay from my mind and would never affect me again. This isn’t true. PTSD does not work in that way. I get a lot of flashbacks and have a lot of nightmares that circulate around the events. It wasn’t until a couple of days ago I thought I was faulty - never to be repaired. A conversation with my closest mentor (and surrogate father at times) helped show me that just like performance skills, trading skills, educational skills.... your behavioral skills can be developed also. Areas of mine were/are considerably lacking but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be trained or worked upon. Another thing he brought to my awareness is that these flashbacks aren’t nightmares DO NOT make me broken. There are different types of memory. I.e. you can remember doing something like remember meeting a friend for breakfast but you might not necessarily remember what they were wearing or what you ate. You might remember your first kiss very well and remember lot’s of details including where you were, the smells you encountered, what the touch felt like, what you could see etc. Your brain encodes data that it determined important and if you deem something a significant event it encodes that data to the long term memory.

“Inevitably, at some point during a traumatic experience, fear kicks in. When it does, it is no longer the prefrontal cortex running the show, but the brain’s fear circuitry – especially the amygdala. Once the fear circuitry takes over, it – not the prefrontal cortex – controls where attention goes. It could be the sound of incoming mortars or the cold facial expression of a predatory rapist or the grip of his hand on one’s neck. Or, the fear circuitry can direct attention away from the horrible sensations of sexual assault by focusing attention on otherwise meaningless details. Either way, what gets attention tends to be fragmentary sensations, not the many different elements of the unfolding assault. And what gets attention is what is most likely to get encoded into memory.The brain’s fear circuitry also alters the functioning of a third key brain area, the hippocampus. The hippocampus encodes experiences into short-term memory and can store them as long-term memories. Fear impairs the ability of the hippocampus to encode and store “contextual information”. Fear also impairs its ability to encode time sequencing information.”

Whilst I’m still to do more research, I am now hopeful that I can potentially access that point of the memory that has encapsulated the fear of that event and stored very precise details that sit there loitering and then pounce without warning. I once again, have hope. And not hope like the irrational thinking that seven years would simply erase the memories. But hope that with training and therapy, things can get better. But not if I continue to shut help out and repress. Now for something that has been bothering me for quite sometime. I’ve harbored onto a lot of self-hatred for not being ”over” the events. Harbored onto hatred for having flashbacks/nightmares etc and for letting it get me down for far too long. I’ve compared it to events such as robberies, stabbings or people coming back from the war with PTSD and have thought.... “if people can get over those events, why am I so pathetic.” It’s time to give myself a bit of a break. You are generally expected to have sex again after you’ve been raped, therefore it is not ridiculous that you can be continuously triggered. It is NOT like a robbery or a stabbing and cannot be compared to the events. You are not expected to go through the motions of being put at gun point, having a knife to your throat or having a stranger in your house several times a week/month for the rest of your life. You are not expected to see it depicted in the media in the saturated way that we see sex and intimacy. You are not expected to hear boys, girls, peers and friends make jokes about such an attack on at least a weekly basis. You are not expected to re-develop a healthy relationship with being held at knife point and you are not expected to go around being generous with your money after someone has robbed you of it. However, you are expected to have a healthy relationship with sex again-something that specifically mimics the same activity as rape (though let me be crystal clear - I am NOT saying it is the same. It’s time to stop blaming myself. It’s time to stop expecting recovery without seeking help. It’s time to open up. It’s time to stop repressing and and start accepting. I am a victim but I am powerful, brave, strong. I am not broken. I am enough.

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mabsj · 5 years ago

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Continue on my previous post....

I smiled when I remembered about it..

The Skies

Sky is the most stronger moment.. She gave me a shape.. hahaha.. well.. she like full moon.. because of its shines bright as ever.. and its a shape of my nickname.. This is where my heart felt sad and tears started rolling down my eyes.. Every night whenever we were on the phone, she used to tell me to look at the moon.. I still remember at some point where she saw the brightest full moon, she would ask me to look at it.. And I will seriously look at it.. Got one night where she saw it again, and that moon was not in my view, just to make her happy, I go out from my house litterally with just my boxers(length like a shorts pants) and my singlet rush down and walk faster to the nearest park just to make her happy and watch the moon together with her.. I laugh softly through my heart.. Just for the sake of seeing her happy.. Just wonder how trully I love her.. But moments later, it turns into sadness.. She ask me, "Please don't ever leave me, I trully love you".. She said that in malay.. I replied to her, my love for her may not be the same shape as the moon, But I only have a shape of a heart.. A heart of mine only for her nobody else will have the special as her and I promise her that.. How in the world I can still remember piece of it.. I dont even contact her or have her contact number, I dont even add her on fb or instagram or any social media.. But this love of her's re-appear out of the sudden.. I called my best friend, Hisyam,.. I call him and told him what happend.. He laugh.. He told me something that I totally forgot way when I told him that I agree on my wife marriage proposal.. He told me, I make a good choice.. But I should remember, not all the good path the road will be smooth.. You have to be strong to go through.. But you will not be alone.. Allah is always with you.. He knows what is best for you and He knows the limit of your patient.. He may be giving you surprise, which you dont expect or didnt want it to happend.. And at the same time, He gave you the test.. I told him, it wont be happening.. Because she is someone's wife.. Im someones husband.. Its a sin for me to have feelings on someone's wife eventhough she is my previous lover !!! And he replied, "Za.. What you plan is not what you will have compulsory.. Allah is our Creator.. He is our God.. He plans, He knows what is best for us.. He may give us a bad sign, or He may give us a message, or He may giving us a good sign and answers.. He listens to every of the Dua's we all make.. He knows when is the right time to give it.. He knows it was a very long time ago relationships.. But He knows the sincererity of your heart towards her back then and the suffer you go through.. Hung up the phone and i gaze at the skies.. The memories still flashes eventhough I tried my very best to stop.. But this time, its getting tougher.. I felt the sorrowness, the emptiness, the tears, the happiness, easy to describe is everything that I felt.. I know I dont have that strength as my heart has become weak.. I remember this weakness feeling.. I remember clearly as clear glass.. It was the same as the moment Im being far away from her even we just met.. And thats what I feel.. I look at the skies and the moon.. I know I couldn't see Allah but I know, Allah sees me.. I closed my eyes and I start to pray to Allah.. This prayers some sentences is missing because I prayed for quite some time and couldnt remember some words but I try to put it as a combination in english and malay..

"Ya Allah.. You given me a test that weaks me totally.. You gave me a feeling which I shouldn't be feeling.. You gave me the memories which was years back ago.. You gave me the love that I left it behind.. But You gave me the feeling back.. I may not know whats the reason behind it because I dont find the answer to it.. I leave it to you.. If trully she is missing me, thinking of me, started to love me, Aku berdoa PadaMu Ya Allah, let it disappear.. I know I lied to myself, to her I hate her, I dont want to see her, I dont want anything related to her, lied to her I have sickness, its something I force myself to Ya Allah.. I lied to her I hate her when she wants to end our relationship but how many times what she can do is what I cannot do and Im still accepting her.. I lied to her about my sickness and she hates me but I remember she willing to lie to me for a guy who she only know for awhile and even told me it was her cousin but when i found out is it not.. she gave her number to him and I still accept her and forgive her.. and that point while we are on a dating out.. But yet, I still open my heart to forgive her and still accept her.. Because I know, she didnt mean it.. As day by day passes by, she started to became much more aggressive in her anger.. I dont usually scold her anyway.. Whatever she said, cursed, shout at me although it hurts my feelings, I endure it and change it to something like she wants someone to vent her anger at.. I dont know why.. Until One Fine day, my chest starts to feel pain.. My body became weak, my head starts spinning.. I went to the clinic.. And she knows it.. But what was the result shocked me.. Doctor told me I have a very high HBP(High Blood Pressure) and overworked myself.. Maybe thinking too much.. The doctor advice me not to think too much she scared it could lead to depression.. I hide it for a moment.. I dont tell anyone.. I lied to her just a fever.. Just not to make her worry.. When she ask for breakup, I tried to cure it.. but I dont have that energy to do so.. I cried.. It took me so long to let her go.. Eventhough many times she ask for breakup and back together again, but this time I have to force myself.. I know she's in contact with other guy.. How do I know, Im dont stalk.. But Allah show me the path for the truth and I pretend I didnt know at all.. And I dont blame on her.. I blame myself of failing to give more love towards her, more time for her.. All the words that I've said to her, that i hate her, i dont want to see her, i regret knowing her, Ya Allah, you know what I feel at that point of time.. it was the opposite.. But I force myself to do it, just to see her happy.. Ya Allah, I force myself to let her go just to let her continue to see her brightness of her choice.. The moment I say out my decisions, I left without any notice.. I was stranded with depression.. My head hurts and my BP rising up.. It took me years to cure my depression.. Until i was ended up in the hospital.. And my specialist knows it.. She gave me some advice to let me rest.. She told my mum and my mum was shocked.. When she ask why, I told her everything.. She know I still havent forget about her eventhough I tried.. And years later, my wife propose to me for marriage.. Ya Allah, I never encounter someone propose to me where I remember I propose to someone before her.. You guide her to me where my heart still close for anyone.. It took me 9months to sincerely open up.. And I agree to it.. My mum knows I dont have any serious feelings towards my wife.. But I said, "Mum, Allah met me wife her for a reason.. Insyaa'Allah things wont be the same but maybe more positivity..".. Ya Allah, If its true she have feelings for me, remembered me, misses me like the past time, please return back to her as I could not accept it this time.. Ya Allah, forgive her whatever she hurt she had given me, I dont give any hatred towards her.. Ya Allah guide her to the right path and make her happy as if she never felt it before, eventhough she left the pain to me.. Ya Allah.. please guide her to the right path..

Make her happy and strong as if she never felt it before.. Ya Allah, tell her that I do misses her and I do love her, but I have to make this choice to close my doors to her.. Ya Allah, I unable to accept her in my life anymore be it im single.. I dont want to see her suffer anymore.. I dont want to see her go through my dad anymore.. its enough for her.. Im doing this just to see her happy Ya Allah.. Ya Allah, I may be visiting the jetty and make it to be the last.. Im letting her out of my mind, my heart for the last time peacefully.. Return it back to her.. And I pray to you may her marriage that she choose be blessful and happy and shine like a moon like she wishes to.. Ya Allah.. I may not be her choice and I may not be a relious and I may not be a good guy.. But you gave me a wife that is orphanage.. Its the biggest honour and I take it handle it with honour with care and lovingly and responsibly.. And you gave me 2 handsome boy in our life and Im grateful.. Thank You Ya Allah.."

I may make my last visit to the jetty in the late afternoon maybe at night after maghrib.. I pray it would let go peacefully.. I pray you would be happy and strong always like you used to be.. Thank you for letting me in your heart.. I treasure it and appreciate it..

The End

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catholicwatertown · 7 years ago

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Pope addresses Colombian prayer for National Reconciliation: Full text

(Vatican Radio) Pope Francis participated in a prayer for National Reconciliation in the Las Malocas Park in Villavicencio on Friday during his Apostolic Visit to Colombia, expressing his desire to be with the Colombian people who, he said, are carrying in their hearts and their flesh the signs of tragic events they have faced.

Addressing the people gathered for the prayer event, Pope Francis said he had been waiting for the moment from the time of his arrival.

He said he wished to be close to the people and to see them with his own eyes, in order to open his heart to their witness of life and faith.

Making the suffering the people of Colombia have gone through his own, the Holy Father said he wished to embrace them all and weep with them, asking them to pray for one another and ask forgiveness together so that together they could go forward in faith and hope.

The Pope was moved as he listened to the testimonies of four people.

He said their stories were not just of suffering and anguish, but also, and above all, that they were stories of love and forgiveness which speak to us of life and hope; stories of not letting hatred, vengeance or pain take control of our hearts.

Please find below the official English translation of the Pope's prepared speech:

Villavicencio

Friday, 8 September 2017

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I have been looking forward to this moment since my arrival in your country. You carry in your hearts and your flesh the signs of the recent, living memory of your people which is marked by tragic events, but also filled with heroic acts, great humanity, and the noble spiritual values of faith and hope. I come here with respect and with a clear awareness that, like Moses, I am standing on sacred ground (cf. Ex 3:5). A land watered by the blood of thousands of innocent victims and by the heart-breaking sorrow of their families and friends. Wounds that are hard to heal and that hurt us all, because every act of violence committed against a human being is a wound in humanity’s flesh; every violent death diminishes us as people.

I am here not so much to speak, but to be close to you and to see you with my own eyes, to listen to you and to open my heart to your witness of life and faith. And if you will allow me, I wish also to embrace you and weep with you. I would like us to pray together and to forgive one another – I also need to ask forgiveness – so that, together, we can all look and walk forward in faith and hope.

We have gathered at the feet of the Crucifix of Bojayá, which witnessed and endured the massacre of more than a hundred people, who had come to the Church for refuge on 2 May 2002. This image has a powerful symbolic and spiritual value. As we look at it, we remember not only what happened on that day, but also the immense suffering, the many deaths and broken lives, and all the blood spilt in Colombia these past decades. To see Christ this way, mutilated and wounded, questions us. He no longer has arms, nor is his body there, but his face remains, with which he looks upon us and loves us. Christ broken and without limbs is for us “even more Christ”, because he shows us once more that he came to suffer for his people and with his people. He came to show us that hatred does not have the last word, that love is stronger than death and violence. He teaches us to transform pain into a source of life and resurrection, so that, with him, we may learn the power of forgiveness, the grandeur of love.

I thank our brothers and sisters who have shared their testimonies with us, on behalf of so many others. How good it is for us to hear their stories! I am moved listening to them. They are stories of suffering and anguish, but also, and above all, they are stories of love and forgiveness that speak to us of life and hope; stories of not letting hatred, vengeance or pain take control of our hearts.

The final prophecy of Psalm 85 – “Mercy and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other” (v. 10) – follows the working of grace and the petition to God: “Restore us!” Thank you, Lord, for the witness of those who inflicted suffering and who ask for forgiveness; for the witness of those who suffered unjustly and who forgive. This is only possible with your help and presence… this is already a great sign of your desire to restore peace and harmony in this land of Colombia.

Pastora Mira, you put it well: you want to place all your suffering, and that of the thousands of victims, at the feet of Jesus Crucified, so that united to his suffering, it may be transformed into blessing and forgiveness so as to break the cycle of violence that has reigned over Colombia. You are right: violence leads to more violence, hatred to more hatred, death to more death. We must break this cycle which seems inescapable; this is only possible through forgiveness and reconciliation. And you, dear Pastora, and so many others like you, have shown us that this is possible. Yes, with the help of Christ alive in the midst of the community, it is possible to conquer hatred, it is possible to conquer death and it is possible to begin again and usher in a new Colombia. Thank you, Pastora; you have helped us greatly today by the witness of your life. It is the Crucified One of Bojayá who has given you this strength to forgive and to love, to help you to see in the shirt that your daughter Sandra Paola gave to your son Jorge Aníbal not only a remembrance of their deaths, but the hope that peace will finally triumph in Colombia.

We are also moved by what Luz Dary said in her testimony: that the wounds of the heart are deeper and more difficult to heal than those of the body. This is true. Even more important, you realized that it is not possible to live with resentment, but only with a love that liberates and builds. And so you also began to heal the wounds of other victims, to rebuild their dignity. This going out of yourself has enriched you, has helped you look ahead, find peace and serenity and a reason to keep moving forward. I thank you for the crutch you have given me. Although you still have physical side-effects from your injuries, your spiritual gait is fast and steady, because you think of others and want to help them. Your crutch is a symbol of the more important crutch we all need, which is love and forgiveness. By your love and forgiveness you are helping so many people to walk in life. Thank you.

I wish to acknowledge also the powerful testimony of Deisy and Juan Carlos. You have helped us to understand that, in the end, in one way or another, we too are victims, innocent or guilty, but all victims. We are all united in this loss of humanity that means violence and death. Deisy has said it clearly: you realized that you yourself were a victim and you needed to be given a chance. So you started to study, and now you work to help victims and prevent young people from falling into the snares of violence and drugs. There is also hope for those who did wrong; all is not lost. Of course justice requires that perpetrators of wrongdoing undergo moral and spiritual renewal. As Deisy said, we must make a positive contribution to healing our society that has been wounded by violence.

It can be difficult to believe that change is possible for those who appealed to a ruthless violence in order to promote their own agenda, protect their illegal affairs so they could gain wealth, or claim – dishonestly – that they were defending the lives of their brothers and sisters. Undoubtedly, it is a challenge for each of us to trust that those who inflicted suffering on communities and on a whole country can take a step forward. It is true that in this enormous field of Colombia there is nevertheless room for weeds… You must be attentive to the fruit… care for the wheat and do not lose peace because of the weeds. When the sower finds weeds mingled with the wheat, he or she is not alarmed. Search for the way in which the Word becomes incarnate in concrete situations and produces the fruit of new life, even if it appears to be imperfect or incomplete (cf. Evangelii Gaudium, 24). Even when conflicts, violence and feelings of vengeance remain, may we not prevent justice and mercy from embracing Colombia’s painful history. Let us heal that pain and welcome every person who has committed offences, who admits their failures, is repentant and truly wants to make reparation, thus contributing to the building of a new order where justice and peace shine forth.

As Juan Carlos has let us glimpse in his testimony, throughout this long, difficult, but hopeful process of reconciliation, it is also indispensable to come to terms with the truth. It is a great challenge, but a necessary one. Truth is an inseparable companion of justice and mercy. Together they are essential to building peace; each, moreover, prevents the other from being altered and transformed into instruments of revenge against the weakest. Indeed, truth should not lead to revenge, but rather to reconciliation and forgiveness. Truth means telling families torn apart by pain what happened to their missing relatives. Truth means confessing what happened to minors recruited by violent people. Truth means recognizing the pain of women who are victims of violence and abuse.

I wish finally, as a brother and a father, to say this: Colombia, open your heart as the People of God and be reconciled. Fear neither the truth nor justice. Dear people of Colombia: do not be afraid of asking for forgiveness and offering it. Do not resist that reconciliation which allows you to draw near and encounter one another as brothers and sisters, and surmount enmity. Now is the time to heal wounds, to build bridges, to overcome differences. It is time to defuse hatred, to renounce vengeance, and to open yourselves to a coexistence founded on justice, truth, and the creation of a genuine culture of fraternal encounter. May we live in harmony and solidarity, as the Lord desires. Let us pray to be builders of peace, so that where there is hatred and resentment, we may bring love and mercy (cf. Prayer attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi).

I wish to place all of these intentions before the image of the Crucified One, the black Christ of Bojayá:

* * *

O black Christ of Bojayá,

who remind us of your passion and death;

together with your arms and feet

they have torn away your children

who sought refuge in you.

O black Christ of Bojayá,

who look tenderly upon us

and in whose face is serenity;

your heart beats

so that we may be received in your love.

O black Christ of Bojayá,

Grant us to commit ourselves to restoring your body.

May we be your feet that go forth to encounter

our brothers and sisters in need;

your arms to embrace

those who have lost their dignity;

your hands to bless and console

those who weep alone.

Make us witnesses

to your love and infinite mercy.

(from Vatican Radio) from News.va http://ift.tt/2jbdWtP via IFTTT from Blogger http://ift.tt/2xUZF7Q

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