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radical-revolution · 3 months

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“When I was about six years old I received the essential bodhichitta teaching from an old woman sitting in the sun. I was walking by her house one day feeling lonely, unloved, and mad, kicking anything I could find. Laughing, she said to me, ‘Little girl, don’t you go letting life harden your heart.’

Right there, I received this pith instruction: we can let the circumstances of our lives harden us so that we become increasingly resentful and afraid, or we can let them soften us and make us kinder and more open to what scares us. We always have this choice.

If we were to ask the Buddha, ‘What is bodhichitta?’ he might tell us that this word is easier to understand than to translate. He might encourage us to seek out ways to find its meaning in our own lives. He might tantalize us by adding that it is only bodhichitta that heals, that bodhichitta is capable of transforming the hardest of hearts and the most prejudiced and fearful of minds.

Chitta means ‘mind’ and also ‘heart’ or ‘attitude.’ Bodhi means ‘awake,’ ‘enlightened,’ or ‘completely open.’ Sometimes the completely open heart and mind of bodhichitta is called the soft spot, a place as vulnerable and tender as an open wound. It is equated, in part, with our ability to love. Even the cruelest people have this soft spot. Even the most vicious animals love their offspring. As Trungpa Rinpoche put it, ‘Everybody loves something, even if it’s only tortillas. ’

Bodhichitta is also equated, in part, with compassion – our ability to feel the pain that we share with others. Without realizing it we continually shield ourselves from this pain because it scares us. We put up protective walls made of opinions, prejudices, and strategies, barriers that are built on a deep fear of being hurt. These walls are further fortified by emotions of all kinds: anger, craving, indifference, jealousy and envy, arrogance and pride. But fortunately for us, the soft spot – our innate ability to love and to care about things – is like a crack in these walls we erect. It’s a natural opening in the barriers we create when we’re afraid. With practice we can learn to find this opening. We can learn to seize that vulnerable moment – love, gratitude, loneliness, embarrassment, inadequacy – to awaken bodhichitta.

An analogy for bodhichitta is the rawness of a broken heart. Sometimes this broken heart gives birth to anxiety and panic, sometimes to anger, resentment, and blame. But under the hardness of that armor there is the tenderness of genuine sadness. This is our link with all those who have ever loved. This genuine heart of sadness can teach us great compassion. It can humble us when we’re arrogant and soften us when we are unkind. It awakens us when we prefer to sleep and pierces through our indifference. This continual ache of the heart is a blessing that when accepted fully can be shared with all.

The Buddha said that we are never separated from enlightenment. Even at the times we feel most stuck, we are never alienated from the awakened state. This is a revolutionary assertion. Even ordinary people like us with hang-ups and confusion have this mind of enlightenment called bodhichitta. The openness and warmth of bodhichitta is in fact our true nature and condition. Even when our neurosis feels far more basic than our wisdom, even when we’re feeling most confused and hopeless, bodhichitta – like the open sky – is always here, undiminished by the clouds that temporarily cover it.

Given that we are so familiar with the clouds, of course, we may find the Buddha’s teaching hard to believe. Yet the truth is that in the midst of our suffering, in the hardest of times, we can contact this noble heart of bodhichitta. It is always available, in pain as well as in joy.”

Pema Chödrön - The Places that Scare You

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deckofaces · 1 year

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Hii, I would love to request yandere whumper, pls and thank you!

Ice cream for motivation 🍦🍦

Hi! So I realized this has been sitting in my inbox for ages. But then I had an amazing thought, why not answer it on your birthday? So this is my bday gift to you! Happy birthday!! I hope you like it :)

Late Night Delusions

Tw: whump, yandere whumper, failed escape, drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, possesive(? not sure but I’ll put it), and I think a bit of gaslighting too so yeah

Whumpee crept through the house, slowly and quietly. The home was pitch black, they could barely see, even the currents were drawn on any of the windows to block any moonlight from coming in. They sometimes wondered if Whumper did that on purpose, in case Whumpee tried something like what they were doing now.

But they would be fine, lately they’ve been learning the house like the back of their hand. They knew where every creak in the floorboards were, they memorized the easiest places to exit, and they were pretty sure they knew how to get out as quietly as possible. The most difficult part was getting up the steps from the basement, which Whumpee already did! The stairs had the most creaks out of the entire home.

Whumpee knew that Whumper went to bed a couple hours before. They stayed up waiting until they felt certain their kidnapper went to sleep. This is the first bit of hope they’ve felt in so long, they practically clung to it like their life depended on it.

They crept across the living room and kitchen towards the back door of the house. They could see the dark night outside the back door window, oh how they wished to feel the cool night encompass them. Whumpee silently took a deep breath, slowly twisting the doorknob.

They let out a shriek that pierced through the stillness of the household. A firm iron hold gripped their wrist not on the doorknob and yanked them away from the handle, spinning them around. Whumpee’s eyes widened seeing Whumper’s face now in front of theirs, even in the dark. Their soft but honeyed voice seemed to shred any hope they had into tiny itty bitty pieces. “I did not know we were going out stargazing tonight, Whumpee.”

Whumpee frantically shook their head, trying to pull their wrist out of their hold, but Whumper did not seem to budge. “Please let me go,” they pleaded, “I’m so tired of being here!”

Whumper barely reacted to their attempts to escape their grip. They just blinked at them with a look of concern. “But my dear.. I’ve been helping you. You are getting so much more attention and love since you’ve been here.” They gave Whumpee a sad look. “Are you sick? What are you doing up in the middle of the night saying these crazy things?” They put a hand to their forehead as if to feel for a temperature.

With their free hand Whumpee slapped their hand away. “What-? Sick? No, no, I’m not sick! You know I’m not-! You- you hurt me!”

Whumper’s face contorted into one of confusion. “Whumpee.. I don’t hurt you. Your life was so difficult outside of the comfort of my home. I’m giving you a nice easy life if you would just let me..”

“I have friends and family and people waiting for me out there! I’ve been here, stuck with you for I don’t even know how long anymore!” Whumpee shouted, their built up anger and emotions being released finally through their desperate rant.

“Who?” Whumper questioned. “Caretaker?”

Whumpee fell silent. They were right, and oh god they missed Caretaker. Maybe they have been their motivation for escaping this whole time. Whumper stared at them waiting for an answer, but in the end their silence spoke for them.

“Caretaker did not know how to take care of you. They did not know you like I do. It is best if you erase them from your mind, Whumpee. They were manipulating you and making you worse. And see this-“ they waved to the door “-means I still have a lot of work to do with you.”

Tears filled Whumpee’s eyes. “No! No, you know nothing about me or Caretaker! You are sick and twisted and-“ they were interrupted by Whumper grabbing the collar of their shirt and yanking them closer. They must have let go of their wrist some time in their argument and they didn’t notice.

“You are mine. You were never Caretaker’s. You will never see them again, you are staying with me. Now I suggest you go back to bed, you are being delusional, you must be exhausted if you are lashing out like this.”

“Please, no- I-“

“Shhh, I said it is time for bed.” Whumper reached into their back pocket, Whumpee not noticing the movement in the dark. “You will feel better in the morning, you will be over all this craziness.”

“What, I’m not crazy-!” They helped and looked down at their arm, Whumper held a syringe and were emptying its contents of who knows what into their system.

“Relax, all you need is rest.”

Whumpee let out a handful of weak protests. They could not fight off the exhaustion that seemed to quickly wash over them and make their body feel so heavy. Whumper picked them up into a bridal carry when they became too weak to stand, and in the end, falling unconscious.

“Yes.. goodnight Whumpee,” Whumper whispered, looking at the sleeping figure in their arms. There was no way they would let them go so easily. They were theirs after all.

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 11 months

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Actually regarding my last Hatoful post I made, I don’t think enough attention is given to the way Sakuya has been completely un-personed by Le Bel. He’s not only “raised in a sheltered and classist environment”, everything he is is a regurgitation. There is not a single thing Sakuya says in early game that isn’t what his “father” told him to - this doesn’t exactly excuse his behaviour towards his classmates, but it is also very concerning. You would expect Sakuya’s arc to be about the pressure and expectation he feels as the next family head, but while it certainly does seem to be a lot of work, he doesn’t really show much indication that it’s gotten to the point that it’s too much to bear. He handles responsibility very well. He’s just. Unhappy. Sakuya runs away from home in freezing cold weather and collapses in the street, all because he deigned to think about loving music. He hadn’t even come around to thinking about actually pursuing it as a career. This alone seems more like Sakuya hit a breaking point than one isolated incident - there is likely a lot more going on behind the scenes that we are not privy to for Sakuya to be that subservient and that terrified of Le Bel. Hiyoko even internally notes that he’s always acting way angrier than he actually is - anger is a reactive emotion, and if he reacts aggressively, he won’t have to think about these things that challenge the worldview Le Bel has indoctrinated him with. He is literally too frightened to challenge Le Bel, even within his own mind.

Similarly, Yuuya takes on a job that restricts him from forming any semblance of a stable identity or from letting the mask fall. Ever. Sakuya deflects with anger and his high-born reputation, and Yuuya deflects with a flirty laid back persona while allowing everyone he meets to believe every rumour they spread about him. And people treat him horribly. He laughs it off with the whole “that’s a little cold” or “bit harsh” but. Like. It hurts him. I don’t think he’s genuinely ever built up a tolerance against that kind of badmouthing, and the sad part is that the worst of it comes from Sakuya, his own little brother who he would and has done everything for. But he won’t ever refute it or defend himself, because it helps him keep his cover at the school, and also probably in part because he feels he deserves it. Yuuya does not like himself, largely due to his constant guilt. He even doubts his competence at times, when his efforts as an agent fail (see early HoliStar). He has no idea what his future will look like. He has no plans for himself. He acts in defence solely on behalf of other people’s happiness and safety and receives the words of the man he hates most spat in his face by the little brother he would do anything to protect. And yet, to him, it will always have been worth it.

It would’ve been so easy to make them polar opposites but I do love how the writing actually shows a number of key similarities between them that pop up in certain situations.

Their correct answers in their routes typically involve standing up to them or telling them off in some way (Sakuya’s bossiness, Yuuya’s flirtation)

Sometimes make rash decisions due to their anger or irritation (I mean. Sakuya. A lot but also. The egg.)

They are both quick to take on responsibility for others in a crisis situation and tend to handle it fairly well for the most part (rip to Sakuya with the giant tank that showed up at his mansion. to be fair Yuuya couldn’t stop it either.)

Kings of not being honest about their true feelings or personality. Like ever. Masks and defence mechanisms up constantly. (Yuuya is at least a little more self-aware; he does genuinely seem to care about justice - while Sakuya, as stated previously, has very little in the way of an identity at all and is not self-aware in the slightest lol)

Anyways I feel insane about the fantail brothers. That is all.

(Art above is by the author Moa btw. You can find it on the wiki!)

#this post brought to you by my sudden recollection of sakuya being more terrified of talking to his father than an assassin sent to kill him #just. makes you think.#also how sad yuuya makes me. like. he’s still a kid man.#I liked him plenty in bbl but oh man. holistar yuuya. ‘this pain is mine you can’t have it’ holistar yuuya. holy fuck.#easily jumped up the ranking as one of my faves #sorry I’m being melodramatic. eh. oh well #hatoful boyfriend #hatoful kareshi #sakuya le bel shirogane #yuuya sakazaki #hatoful analysis #storyrambles #hatoful spoilers

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adozentothedawn · 3 months

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Carolus' children have names!

Porcelain von Valancius, called Penny (or sometimes Porky by her brother), her oldest child. Conceived during her time as a guard for merchant ships, after she was exiled from her position as a battle psyker in the military, with a Drukhari soldier who she met and fought during multiple assignments. Coincidence (and skill at survival) had them meet again and again and develop a personal rather than general hatred for each other, which then culminated in an extremely angry and prejudiced one-night stand. About two weeks later she finally managed to kill him. Carolus was in a very bad mental state during that time, so when she noticed she was pregnant she couldn't really bring herself to care. She didn't expect the fetus to be viable anyway, so she decided that either it would kill her and solve her problems that way, or the resulting miscarriage would be of scientific interest to someone. Except that against her expectations when the baby was born she was entirely healthy, if odd looking. Put on the spot Carolus made the decision to be a mother. She built herself up again as best as she could, pretended her daughter was a low level mutant and found a somewhat peaceful colony of mutants in a corner of her sector where she could trust someone to take care of the child while she went off to earn money to send back. When Theodora called her to the expanse she took her daughter with her and found her a safe place on Janus before going on board.

Porcelain is a highly energetic child, easily excitable, and due to her heritage drawn to strong emotions. This can manifest both in temper tantrums to provoke the people around her into anger or things like long monologues of compliments or singalongs to incite excitement or happiness. She is not cruel but oftentimes callous about the feelings of others, since she gets as much out of people's anger or grief as out of their joy. That does not however mean that she doesn't like people, quite the opposite. She easily connects with people, regardless of their opinion of her, leading her to occasionally declare people her friends who deeply despise her, precisely because of their strong reaction. This includes Marazhai, who only got survive his terrible decisions because Carolus is concerned about her daughter's safety without at least rudementary knowledge about the other half of her legacy. He gets brought onboard specifically as Porcelain's babysitter and tutor. He absolutely despises it and Penny, but knows that she is the only reason he's alive and thus cannot just kill her without consequences. She loves him. Absolutely adores him and everything he does end up teaching her. Her mother's influence does remain strong she does not fall into indiscrimenate murder and torture but she does highly enjoy the tussles she has with Marazhai and the occasional hunt he takes her on. He also tendency to just grab her by the scruff of the neck and carry her around like a handbag. She thinks it's hilarious. She also calls him "Uncle Marzipan" and is absolutely gleeful about how much he hates it. He in return calls her "Pentakill" because he decided that her name is terrible and not to be tolerated. The Mon-keigh should be glad he didn't choose a drukhari name.

Leopold von Valancius van Calox is Carolus' son with Heinrix. (Yes there is a whole situation going on my brain how he deals with Penny's existance but that's for later.) He is born sometime during the game, though I have not exactly figured out when yet. When Carolus learnt she was pregnant again she gave Heinrix a decision: he could either claim the child as his or they sweep their prior relationship under the rug and she would never mention the child's parentage. Either way she would not stand his way. She certainly would have been sad if he had decided to deny it, but she would have respected his decision, and it had to be just his choice to make. Some of the officer's would have certainly known, but no one would go against a Rogue Tradr's orders to shut up about her private life. It took him the entire duration of the pregnancy to finally make a choice and only when Carolus went into labour did he break and made his decision to be a father, with the thought that he would come up with a way to deal with Calcazar's judgement some time later. Of course it turned out that said dealing would be both a lot easier and a lot harder than expected. He never did say anything about it, but he went to her chambers, was let in and stayed for the duration of the birth, which was as good as admission. Abelard judged him greatly, for many reasons.

Leopold is a calm child, curious but by far not as exciteble as his sister (who was absolutely extatic about getting a sibling and had to be forcibly kept from the birth so as to not be distracting). Later in his life he showed Psyker abilities, something that concerned but not surprised his Psyker parents. The reveal was thankfully not nearly as dramatic as both his parents' . His sister felt it coming and refused to play with him because of it, feeling unsettled by the weird energies around him. This persisted until he eventually threw a temper tantrum and set a rug on fire, thus confirming both Carolus' and Heinrix' concerns. Although they both he agreed he would have to be sanctioned, they also agreed to never under any circumstances put their son on a Black Ship. Eventually it was decided that Heinrix himself would bring him to Terra, monitor any and all procedures and eventually take him home again. They both leveraged all of their political powers to make sure they could take him back, calling in many, many favours and issuing equally as many threats and bribes. They succeeded. Leopold himself only learnt multiple years after that trip what had actually happened. (I do have notes on a short one-shot about the trip maybe) (How does this work with the whole Warp storm situation? I don't know and frankly I don't much care, both the warp and the god-emperor will bow to my will to ignore canon)

#warhammer 40k rogue trader #carolus von valancius #heinrix van calox #marazhai aezyrraesh #oc descriptions #i thank all my discord buddies who helped me come up with this stuff #i swear i will finish something for this game #i want to post fics again so badly #Omnissiah grant me the strength to just get done with something #but yeah I love my children #my overdramatic backstories #and carolus' ability to set her friends on fire so they do more damage #it's very fun #btw she was named for the song carolus rex in case you were wondering

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notsoclingy · 6 months

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In the everyday world of ups and downs, I find myself navigating through the maze of existence. I have dreams, a job that pays the bills, and someone special who's become woven into the fabric of my life story. Then, one day, things take a turn that doesn't come with birds singing or poetic background music – it's breakup day.

This breakup isn't like the ones in movies with rain and sad tunes. No, it's messier, more raw, and less expressive. It feels like someone took a big hammer to the carefully built walls around my heart. Nights become a marathon of overthinking, and days blur into emotion-filled conversations, swinging from anger to a deep sadness that settles in your bones.

As I struggle with the pieces left behind after the breakup, I found myself into a zone that some might call a quarter-life crisis. It's not an "ah-ha" moment on a mountain but more like waking up one day and realizing I'm the main character in a choose-your-own-adventure novel, unsure which page to turn to next. Jobs, relationships, and the very essence of who I thought I was become subjects of a messy, real-life reevaluation.

And let's not forget the not-so-friendly cast members that enter the scene. They're not evil step-siblings or witches with poison apples; they're real people acting like they have it all together. It stings. It's as if everyone else got a memo titled "How to Have Your Life Together" except for me.

During this rollercoaster of reality, I find solace not in a wise mentor with all the answers but in a motley crew of friends. They're not therapists armed with perfect advice; they're flawed, genuine individuals navigating their own messy journeys. These friends become the unsung heroes, offering a safe space where judgments are left at the door, and understanding is served with a side of humor.

Now, as we discuss this real-life drama, let's look at some life lessons which i discovered during my phase of the healing process.

**1. Breakups are Hard, But Normal:**

Breakups aren't scripted scenes with rain pouring down for dramatic effect. They're messy, emotional, and perfectly normal. Feeling like your world is falling apart is not a sign of weakness; it's a evidence to the depth of your emotions.

**2. It's Okay to Feel Lost:**

In the real world, feeling lost isn't a cue for a dramatic background score. It's more like stumbling in the dark trying to find the light switch. And guess what? That's perfectly okay.

**3. Quarter-Life Crisis is a Thing:**

Quarter-life crisis is not a chapter in a self-help book; it's the messy process of realizing that adulting comes without a roadmap. It's normal to question everything from career choices to the very essence of your existence.

**4. People Can Be Mean During Tough Times:**

In the real world, not everyone offers a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to lean on. Some people might act like they're holding golden tickets to a better life. Remember, their show reel doesn't diminish your worth.

**5. Dealing with Superior-feeling People:**

Ever met someone who flaunts their apparent perfection? Ignore the drama. It's more like changing the channel to a show you actually enjoy – one where authenticity trumps pretense.

**6. Find Your Squad:**

Real friends aren't therapists with all the answers. They're the ones who pass you the figurative tissues, make you laugh when you feel like crying, and bring over ice cream without judgment.

**7. Be Kind to Yourself:**

In the real world, being kind to yourself is not a motivational quote on a Pinterest board. It's about recognizing that you're a human with flaws navigating a chaotic reality. Treat yourself with the same compassion you'd offer a friend.

**8. Embrace Changes:**

Life is not a Bollywood movie with neatly tied endings. It's more like a documentary – unpredictable, raw, and full of unexpected twists. Embrace the changes; they're part of the unscripted beauty of life.

**9. Learn from Tough Times:**

In real life, tough times are not neatly packaged lessons. They're messy and complex. Learn what you can, adapt, and move forward. This is not a failure; it's growth.

**10. Remember, You're Awesome:**

When others parade their seemingly perfect lives, remember that their highlight reel doesn't define your worth. In the real world, you're awesome not because of external validations but because of your resilience, authenticity, and ability to navigate the messiness of life.

In the end, I don't transform into a superhero with a dazzling cape. I remain human, imperfect, and gloriously real. Life isn't a fairytale, but it's an adventure worth embracing – full of highs, lows, and the unpredictable beauty of authenticity.

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phantomraeken · 11 months

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Okay to awnser @elisastales question!

1) I don't think it's rude but I'm very open about my IED struggles!

2) For the broad question:

I think Liam's anger is definitely accurate, especially the way it acts with his werewolf side. I personally have a bunch of disorders on top of my IED so my experience with the aftermath may be a LOT different. But im often exhausted, over stimulated, and just sad after having a rage attack. So I think the aftermaths could have been built on a lot more but aside from that I see no other issues.

Okay, I lied. When Stiles made the comment of "You're an IED?" He probably should have gotten more defensive. Any time someone comments on my anger I get defensive and pissed off, I've talked to another person with IED and he said he gets defensive about it also! It's not the most enjoyable thing to get told.

On that note, he'd probably also get mad at Brett's comments, even if subtle, on his anger. I also HC Brett to have IED and of course he'd make jokes on it and they'd have that mutual understanding. But for me even if we both share the problem I don't want comments / jokes made on it.

Another thing is a lot, and I mean a lot, of people with IED pick up on others anger, even before that person can. I've been sitting around another friend and she was mad due to exhaustion but couldn't fully feel her anger due to all her emotions being a fucking mess. I picked up on it and just got angry at the smallest things. At first most can't even tell what their angry at. Just that they're angry.

Overall I think they dulled Liam's anger down due to it being directed at people who don't know what it is. And at the time what Teen Wolf was being aired on.

3) as for how other characters reacted.

Iirc a lot of them tried to defend his actions with the fact that he has IED, that is a gross thing, don't do it. Defending your actions with a mental disorder you have is not okay. I think they used it as a barrier.

Theo also used his IED as a way to use him. Make him angry and he'll fight / kill anything in his track which is also gross, don't do that either. As someone who has had someone use my anger to defend them its also a horrible feeling once you realize and you feel like a monster.

To add to above, a lot of people with IED feel that they are a monster cause they can't control their anger. Fun fact for the people who don't know; IED is also a type of bomb so a lot of pwople who haven't studied / don't know what it is associate people with that. So it makes us feel like were destructive.

Tangent aside, I think Scott tried his best to tell Liam that this disorder didn't effect the way he looked at him, at all. A lot of the characters followed what Scott said, even if they were off put by this opinion. They all tried their best to understand him even if it was a confusing and painful, both physically from his anger assaults and breakdowns and mentally due to the way he took it out on others, not knowing a healthier coping mechanism, ride.

I feel if Liam had met Jackson and Erica he'd probably have a much better time with hid anger. Erica would reassure him that he's not a monster and his anger is truly a gift. Even if he doesn't think so. Jackson because he found healthy ways to control and let his anger out when we put the unhealthy ones aside. He really just needed people who understood what he was going through and how to help him.

I also feel Deaton could have helped him with his anger cause of how he's helped every other werewolf through something. He's like everyone's dad and Liam really needed that from someone aside from Scott, a teenager who was still new to the whole alpha thing.

I think the whole thing with anchors helped a lot after he learned what his was and how to use it to hold his anger in a much better place. I personally have one kinda?? mine is mainly a way to ground myself. Mine is my family, partners, friends, and my cat! Mainly my step brother, Kent.

I hope this helped everyone who needed a moee in depth opinion on IED representation in Liam.

(I didn't spell check so please be forgiving)

#teen wolf #liam dunbar

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pink-strawberry-kissess · 1 year

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I am sorry this is going to be long but I am definitely interested in discussing Ada's trauma in 6! 6 is actually one of my favorite games in the series simply because of how expressive Ada is (I mean she's always expressive but here its a lot more obvious).

The amount of trauma that had to build up for Ada to get to a point where her emotions are obvious I feel so bad for her. Most of the RE characters have had shit lives but we still don't know what Ada's backstory is (at least, her canon backstory) and I'm 95% certain its not a happy one. So we have whatever happened in her childhood, then whatever got her involved in the espionage world, then we move on to her time working for Wesker and around that same time she did some things for Simmons too. And the rest of what happened in 2-Damnation.

Then we get to 6 and its an absolute shit-show for her. Every time she's on screen she's discovering some new information about these missions that she was assigned but didn't go on and then the whole Project Ada thing and her connecting the dots and figuring out she's got an evil twin running around. Not only that but she knows that Simmons is the reason that "Ada" exists. Oh and Chris Redfield is trying to arrest her too. In the scene with the tape and then the calls with Carla and Simmons, Ada drops her smile whenever she isn't talking (even almost frowning). So we can see that she's putting on a mask even just this far it's really bothering her.

The scene where Ada finds the research for Project Ada is fascinating to watch her expressions. Her face changes from shock and disgust to something like fear or sadness throughout that scene. And then Ada watches Carla fall and "die" - basically watches herself die. Again her facial expressions are fairly prominent. There's shock for the most part, but then for a split second she falls back into sadness. This continues into the next scene where she's talking to "dead" Carla and we see that Ada also sees Carla as a victim of Simmons, but doesn't excuse what Carla did afterwards.

When Carla transforms, I think that is probably one of the most traumatizing things Ada sees because again, she's watching this happen to basically herself and that's very different from watching it happen to other people who look nothing like you. i want to know what's going through her head. Is she thinking that this could've been her if she hadn't cut contact with Simmons?

The ending scene is probably one of my favorites, aside from Ada herself the music is just fantastic and really helps express Ada's emotions in that moment. At first she's wary/cautious of the cocoon thing but then we get this little head shake and her expression is anger. Eyebrows downward, eyes narrow, lips curled back, teeth clenched. She goes through nearly three clips of ammunition destroying that lab. She has no composure until she gets that phone call and I believe this is the only time we've seen Ada completely lose her composure.

And yeah the lab is dealt with, she's destroyed both Carla's and Simmons' legacies but I don't think she feels any sort of satisfaction in doing that. Catharsis sure, but I think she was at a point where something was going to happen. There was just too much built up. I highly doubt Ada has completely worked through the trauma she went through in 6. If we ever see her post-6 I would like to see how she's dealt with this, if at all, and I hope it would be in a healthier way than the men seem to take to deal with their trauma. Or if she's just thrown herself into her work because work is a safe, normal thing for her and would keep her mind off of China.

Yes! I love that we got Ada's campaign in re6! Separate ways was fun as well, but that was mostly just her simping over Leon lmao. But re6 really allows her to speak her mind and for us as an audience understand her better! I completely agree that you need to play her campaign to fully understand re6, but to really get into her mindset better.

From childhood, in lore books and stuff. It's speculated that Ada was forced into crime as young as 10, and she needed to do it to survive. She has NOT had it easy. People like to forget that she's a VICTIM. That she didn't ask for any of this. We see her handle all of her struggles with a smile on her face, but I really think that's the facade of Ada Wong that she uses to manage her own feelings and traumas.

That the idea of Ada Wong isn't even her. YES every time her smile drops, I DIE A LITTLE. How much PAIN is she in??? She even feels so bad for Carla, that she was also a victim to Simmons. That even Carla, who committed SO MANY CRIMES UNDER THE GUISE OF ADA. She (Ada) can still find it in her to see that Carla didn't deserve what happened to her. Ada is one of the strongest characters in re. And we just don't get to see it enough.

I really want some closure on whether or not the BSAA thinks that Ada is dead or not. They declared it, but then Leon's just like :D she's alive! Like not even that surprised. I just want to know if they ever figured it all out.

#ask heart #heart answers #ada wong #resident evil 6

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cosmichighpriestess · 1 year

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You can define any experience as positive or negative or neutral. You have a choice in the moment, to decide if you want to continue down this path when you are feeling angry or inconvenienced or really anything that can upset you. So now in that moment you can always remember that you have 17 seconds to be angry to be upset but after the 17 seconds are up you have a choice to make, because technically the anger can be released after 17 seconds after those seconds are up you were just choosing to stay in that feeling. Of course there are some instances where it's going to be extremely difficult to choose neutral or more positive reactions. That is why it is so important to stay in the moment, work on your triggers and stay on the path of least resistance. Because like Abraham Hicks says, it's like going downstream, and you want to go downstream because it's easier, it's going with the flow, feeling those negative emotions can be necessary because as long as you're feeling them and releasing them you're going downstream which means you're going in the highest timeline direction. It's a choice. It's a decision to be happy, to be in the state of being that you prefer to be in at all times. Even though technically there's no right or wrong choices everything is meaningless. So release those negative emotions because you don't want those trapped inside of you for years. They don't even belong to you.

Because that density in the body is going to stay in your body, in your emotional body. Which is going to eventually cause a physical disease in the body. You definitely don't want that to happen, so every moment just remember you have 17 seconds until the anger can be released, just like a child moves on instantly from things and remember just relax everything is okay and everything is always working out for me no matter what my circumstances say outside of me. Say this All the time. "All I have to do is go within. That is a much more fascinating place to explore instead of all the things I do to mask my pain. feeling anger, sadness, pain, guilt, shame, unworthiness ect. No, I'm going to stop making excuses and meditate for my body and spirit. I'm going to remember that I am the matrix and the matrix is me, everything in my reality comes from me. I reinforce the existence of everything and everyone, so if I don't like to see something or someone it doesn't even exist in my reality. All that is chose me. I create positive synchronicity by being my authentic self. I never need to play small because I do not fit into a small box. The universe is rigged in my favor.

I get paid to exist. I am living my dream life. I am in my desired dream life. Creation is finished. It is done. God shows me how abundant I am in every way. God shows me reasons for my existence. I deserve to have any reality I want and desire because I'm worthy and I love myself unconditionally. I dictate where my vibration is. I can raise my vibration as much as I can by feeling good and only choosing thoughts and things that make me feel good. Because I exist I am blessed for life. I respect myself. I appreciate myself. I'm so grateful for everything in my life that I already have. I'm so grateful for all of the small things. When I have unconditional love I can have anything I desire. I am one with all that is. Everyone in my reality exists for me. All of the things that I see in my reality that I desire, exist for me. It is my birthright. I am worthy of receiving all of my desires now. Everything will always work out for me because the universe will always take care of me because I am worthy because I love myself. Everything is a blessing in disguise. Everything just falls into my lap. I always have more money than I need. All challenges are easy for me. All challenges are exciting for me. All situations are neutral and have no built-in meaning. I define everything I experience and I choose to define it as positive or neutral. I am the entire universe, I make the rules no one else. I am the luckiest person in the world. I am so grateful for always being in the right place at the right time. I always get what I want. I always receive my desires insanely fast. I am in constant appreciation of the universe. I am the fabric and the essence of galactic source energy. "

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revelisms · 8 months

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okay this is so random but how are you with music when you write and read? like, what goes through your mind if anything because I. cannot. do it. people be all like “oh, I find inspiration through the music I listen to” and “listening to music while I read is so calming/immersive” and I’m just over here feeling alone and unable to understand because my brain literally refuses to focus on writing/reading if there is music on (unless it’s only instruments, in which case despite the fact that it does take a brief adjustment period, my mind manages to just tune it out and focus a good 80% of the time). like, it feels like I’m trying to focus on two stories at the same time if I have music on?? Idk.

Oh this is a great question! I also completely feel you on this. Lyrics can be a big distraction for me, so I have to be fairly intentional about how and why I'm listening to something (especially for doing busy work/editing - I can only listen to white noise or instrumentals for that, otherwise I get too sidetracked 🙃). Oddly, I sometimes like to listen to the audiobook version of something while I'm reading it (I find it helps me pay attention a bit more?), but music during reading is a movie soundtrack or bust.

As for writing with music, that's actually pretty ingrained in my writing process. I find it helps fill in the visual gaps for the scenes I'm trying to paint. In a way, that means it is about the "story" in the song - but it's more my own interpretation/experience of what sensations the music is creating, and less me trying to force the story that the lyrics are actually presenting into the idea I have.

For example - here's two songs I anchored on when I was writing 'like leaves of a lotus' and the final chapter of 'heron blue':

Like Leaves of a Lotus, Francis Wellis - Obviously, this became the fic title (and I suck at titles, so songs often do), but this whole album is an incredibly cinematic, woodsy, soft, and emotional set of instrumentals - just a beautiful artpiece, track to track. This was when I was writing a lot of Powder/early Jinx POV, so I was trying to find something musically that captured a sense of childhood innocence and wonder, and this song just fit the bill. Those first minutes hit me immediately with a sort of Narnia-esque image of old trains in a city, steam and winter, exploration and excitement, but also with this twinge of uncertainty and self-consciousness undercutting it all. That storyline dumped itself basically start-to-finish into the fic: we open on a winter morning in Piltover, Jinx staring out of the windows of a steam carriage and taking in the scenery surrounding her - while throughout the story, there's this emotional thread of her fascination/nervousness that acts as the foil to Silco's stoic façade (which we gradually see through, as she does).

Wrong Crowd (Live in Dublin), Tom Odell - In the other vein, here's a live lyrical track that is eerie, powerful, and in TO fashion (love him) broody and gut-wrenching as hell. I latched onto this for a few reasons when I was writing the final chapter in 'heron blue'. That storyline is all about the resolution of the tension built up in the fic: Jinx starting her baby steps out of Silco's shadow and reuniting with Vi, her sadness and anger bubbling up from years of lost time/lack of answers, and her bitterness. The first thing that hit me here was just the raw build of the instrumentals. This track starts soft and melancholic, musing about the struggles of finding the right person/lover, and launches to a spiteful, self-depricating uproar that hinges on a belting admission: I can't help it, I don't know how / I guess I'll always be hanging around / with the wrong crowd. I heard both Silco and Jinx in this: Silco, the building anger in the piano, resenting Vi's presence and the influence she continues to wield over Jinx, protective and possessive in turns; Jinx, the mounting howl of the vocals, screaming her heart out to be understood by Vi. That had a big impact on the emotional intensity of the scenes, especially the argument Vi and Jinx launch into near the end of the chapter.

So for me, it's more about that initial inspiration/vibe, rather than just having background music on while I'm writing. But in some cases, I will just pop on a character playlist I've curated to tune out while I'm writing them. I find those help to anchor me on "who" the character is, and how they feel - so it's not so much the specific story in the songs in that case, either, but rather what I'm associating with them.

(Interestingly, my Jinx playlist is very linear in how it's structured, so I almost have to listen to specific parts of the playlist to reconnect with those ideas/parts of her character. Silco's, on the other hand, is completely disorganized, which can be a total whiplash to shuffle through. I kind of like that, though - I feel like it throws all the layers of himself on the table, from his younger self to his current regalia, which I find is helpful to capture the complexity of his character when I'm writing his scenes/dialogue).

In any case, all writing processes are different and inspiration can come from a myriad of sources, so you're not missing out if music isn't ticking your box!

#thank you for the ask! :-)#i love talking about music so brace yourself for a ramble laskfjl #replies #writing #music

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rughydrangea · 1 year

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Okay I’m finally making my way through s2 of mck as fast as I can (the semester is over, I’m taking advantage of some free time!), and must write down random silly thoughts:

--I’m in the middle of episode 49 right now. I dislike Silahtar so strongly but I do kind of love it when he’s blatantly a bad guy? It’s like a less good version of Ibrahim’s arc from the mothership, and Lord knows I adored bad-guy Ibrahim.

--I’m sorry, I can’t stand Farya. The character makes no sense to me, even leaving aside this franchise’s bizarre obsession with Christian princesses in the harem. She enters with such a clear purpose and within five episodes it’s all gone, thrown away so she can devote herself to a guy who treats her like crap? And then once she’s in the harem, she’s just kind of dramatically inert as a character? No shade to the actress, who has some good moments (her blow-up at Murad over Sanavber was great), but I just don’t understand what Farya’s doing here.

--Speaking of characters I don’t like... Farya’s BFF Atike. But here’s the thing: every aspect of Atike and Silahtar was excruciating to me, watching her basically stalk this man who was clearly not into her and then emotionally blackmailing him into marrying her.... no! It was bad! BUT. As much as I dislike that Atike, I really love the Atike who is Ibrahim’s twin and loves him and wants to protect him, and I know that’s only going to grow, so I can’t write her off.

--I love Kemankes. He’s devoted to Kösem! As every person should be!

--Murad... is simply not it. I loved Murad the kid in s1, and I’m still not sure what is missing here for me. Is it just that he’s mean to his mother? Is it that all the moments of him having emotions that aren’t anger and hate were with a character I don’t like (Farya), thus making it difficult for me to connect with him? Maybe it’s that we start the season with him already acting out against Kösem, which made it tough to jump onto his emotional wavelength and feel his feelings with him? Or maybe it’s that he’s a terrible person who is at this point basically a mass murderer? (Were I a denizen of Istanbul, I would simply never speak my mind and actually also never go outside, because it legit seems like Murad is just prowling the streets looking for people to kill!) With all of that being said, though, there are levels on which the Murad/Kösem conflict really does work for me, because they’re both so inflexible and fixated on their own power above all else that they can’t see how much they need each other. Kösem is smarter about this than Murad, but not as much as she should be. And that does work for me, because their dynamic is pure tragedy: they should be working together, but every facet of who they are pits them against each other.

--Kösem’s other sons are great so far. I fell for Kasim, I love his earnestness and his playfulness and his devotion to his mother (being good to Kösem is, in case it isn’t obvious, my #1 criterion for all characters), and knowing what’s going to happen to him is very upsetting. And Ibrahim... shockingly, I adore him. He’s hitting a lot of the same beats as Mustafa in s1, not just because they’re both “mad” sultans, but because I feel like these characters realistically dramatize what would happen to a person’s mind living in this horrible environment. Ibrahim’s fear, paranoia, instability--they are all strike me as highly reasonable responses to living as he has. So knowing what will happen to him, who he’ll become, and how Kösem will turn against him, also makes me sad, because we so clearly see the core of vulnerability that the rest of his personality is built around.

--Sinan Pasha is unreal in terms of his longevity. At the end of the world it will be cockroaches and Sinan Pasha.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #magnificent century #my commentary

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sevilemar · 1 year

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Do you think this thing could tell anything about my sorting? People? People don't deserve shit, I don't owe anything to them, but I'm nice because it's easier and I'm also easily angered and that makes me do stupid shit, so I try to lay low. I've built a lot of walls around me and the world. But pets? The absolute innocent creatures that people do selfish stuff to without any fear and remorse? It's our fault, always and if they are in need, we need to help them. If I can't, I will feel bad about it. That's what bad people do, they are selfish when they shouldn't be (whatever that means in shc system for every sorting, that's my equivalent of a bad person, someone ignoring or hurting someone else for their personal gain, whether that's emotional satisfaction through an emotional outburst, or something more dire). That makes me so angry, while being powerless just makes me sad, life jsut makes you use dto that feeling, mine does I guess, it didn't succeed but it's really persevering, one day it will make it. A need basing could show badger, burning with the whole people suck, I don't owe you shit, but is it an ideal overall? If help is needed, it should be given. That would be an ideal I guess. So I'm a bit confused here.

I think you're an idealist, nonny. You don't seem too broken up about the fact that people in general suck, not like I imagine a badger would be. 'If help is needed, it should be given'; you framed it very much like an ideal, but whether it comes from your gut or outside sources, that's something you have to decide for yourself. And there is also something about the way you talk about your anger and your helplessness that reminds me strongly of my idealist friends, both lion and bird.

I'm not sure if you're burned, though. I feel a very strong conviction behind your words, a sureness that you're right. You know what a bad person is for you (another point in the idealist column, btw), and what the right thing to do is. And you framed your bad experiences with the people in your life like a fight, you vs. life. Which is another clue that you're an idealist, but more importantly it shows that you're still fighting, and you're still fighting with conviction. As long as you know what's right and wrong, you're not burned as an idealist.

Are your ideals particularly people-friendly? No, they're not. Is there some element of depression in the way you expect the bad experiences in your life to wear you down some day? Yes, there definitely is, and I'm sorry you have to endure that shit. Your convictions are strong, and beautiful in their strength, and as long as you know right and wrong, you may be burned by life, but you're not burned in the shc way.

#sortinghatchats #ask answers #idealist primary

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pocketfullofvoices · 2 years

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EMOTIONS - SHERE KHAN HEADCANON

[ Shere Khan is my most private and secretive character I write here in his TaleSpin Verse because of his upbringing and his career. This means in all relationships he has from family, romantic partners, friends, clients, et cetera, it is difficult for this tiger to open up. He keeps a barrier and it is strong and does not break for anyone unwillingly. It’s not something he allows to break nor get chipped away. Forcing it open or trying to push Shere Khan to open about his ‘feelings’ or his secrets or ANYTHING he doesn’t want anyone to know about would only make it worse. ]

[ Shere Khan’s father is linked to this type of mindset and imbedded that secrecy is the best option for being the owner of a huge company and the family business. There are things that only his father knows too and Shere Khan might not know until his father dies or maybe never. As long as it isn’t something useful for the company, Khan’s father see’s no reason for Shere to know. Shere Khan is content with this and takes that same oath when he took up the mantle as CEO. ]

[ This makes interacting with Shere Khan rather difficult. He can be a gentlemen, charming, and polite but he is not a friendly muse and keeps a emotional distance from all when it comes to more positive or vulnerable connections such as love, sadness, or fear. Khan is known to show anger and happiness at various degrees but he has remained stoic most of his adult life because of appearances and reputations of his job. ]

[ Khan’s anger and discontent are the expressions he is known to show in the series, comics, and even in the Jungle Book films. It’s clear Khan has a temper and it is a burst when it’s finally reach it’s boiling point. Being content or satisfied is the next emotions he’s prone to shown, usually swelled from pride in his work and the success of not losing money, placing fear into clients/employees/acquaintances, or having a moment of peace to enjoy his hobbies. I’d say disappointment is the closest Khan has ever shown to being ‘sad’ around others but he would never shed a tear or become depressed over most things. It just doesn’t happen! He’s not the type of character to let anything bother him as long as it doesn’t ruin his career, lifestyle, and money. The man’s built on power and greed and he’s honed it to mask all emotions that really don’t have true meaning to him. ]

[ In interactions and verses where Shere Khan does have connections, such as his relationship with his only likable living sibling being his sister or the romantic interests he’s acquired over time which is only one right now, his emotional wall has opened slightly for those chosen people. It was not easy and it’s pretty amazing Shere Khan is capable of blocking off all ties to those important to him such as his sister without showing an ounce of being bothered by it. I don’t think Shere Khan is ice cold towards his sister but he doesn’t allow himself to be affected by conflicts that could arise with his sibling. Showing such emotional outbursts in public or private is a risk for Khan and he doesn’t trust that somebody might be watching in the shadows. The tiger’s distrust in the world is strong and those who work for him are always on thin ice when it comes to that trust because past occurrences have proven loyal employees or clients can betray him. ]

[ Let’s just say if you ever interact with Shere Khan in his TaleSpin Verse you can guarantee it would not be easy to get through to him within a few interactions. Shere Khan is brutally genuine and heartless and does not care about most in his life as they are replaceable if they do not show their loyalty and dedication to his company and work. He’s a lot more pleasant in his Toon Verse and Jungle Book Verse because he’s not obligated to a multi-national corporation. He still considers himself a ‘king’ due to his narcissism, ego, and birthright and does not trust anyone well. ]

#SHERE KHAN II BIO #ABOUT II SHERE KHAN #DO NOT REBLOG II #Shere Khan II Verses II Richest Man In Cape Suzette #[ i meant to write this but never got to it but ye ]#[ shere khan i love him dearly but he's still a billionaire who cares not for anyone but himself ]#[ and i don't want to water him down ]

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hellmouth-manor · 4 months

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The sun is setting on our love, I fear

Poppy has had many people bequeath their last words onto them. Mostly it has been pleas and begging and terrified crying – nothing memorable, to them. The majority were too surprised by death to do anything more than let the air escape their lungs, not even really screaming before life left them. An unceremonious fading.

They’ve never had anyone dedicate their last words to them.

“You don’t have to be anyone’s dog.“

As Micah lays in the pool of his own blood, now so painfully, humanly red, Poppy cannot help but lean over him and watch as he dies, a hand pressed to the wound. The words ring in their ears, repeated in an echo over and over again until their meaning sinks into their chest, much like their soul does as the strings entangle from it. They’re not sure how they feel, but they know they’ve never felt like this watching someone die. It’s a mix of regret, and understanding, and many emotions Poppy is woefully unequipped to handle, all of which swirl and mix until they can feel them squirm under their skin.

[♫♫♫]

Their soul doesn’t fill them with fire. There are no embers to kindle within them anymore, no more roaring rage to replace mourning for the connection they could’ve – should’ve – had with Micah. The glacier has grown still and quiet. They've been suffocated by this place, brought to heel like a hound, nothing more than a pawn that didn't know every step led here from the start. An entire life made just to end in raucous applause and cheer of the faceless, bored masses.

But when things die -- when emotions die -- they become trapped and compress under the pressure into a tar pit. Under Poppy's skin boils an oily, suffocating residue built on the remains of anger and sadness and stubbornness and betrayal, the last throes of an animal fighting against shackles it knows it cannot shake, wanting to drag its captors down with it.

Poppy wants to drag Alou down with them.

Alou, who now looms behind them, buffeted by a storm of attacks from everyone, a monster both inside and outside, taller than ever but with a shadow that cannot hope to be as large as the thing he tried to be. A pitiful void that aims to drag everyone and everything down with it, to drown them if it cannot smother them in sickly love.

Poppy stands up. They’re waist deep in the tar pit, pulled towards the event horizon by the black hole that is Alou. They reach out a hand, let go, and decide to let themself drift, let themself get dragged to the nexus so as to easier dig their nails in the flesh of their captor, intending to drown him in the pitch.

Poppy Argemone Crawbow bares their teeth.

And moves.

From the remains of the table, a knife. Long and plain, but so wickedly sharp. And as Poppy dives into the fray, there is no magic, no tricks, just the movements of someone who has danced to the tune of this cat and mouse game for almost a decade, weaving between Alou’s movements and attacks, like an unintentionally choreographed dance, a crescendo for a tale that waits only for its ending, the last final breaths as two hearts beat and one is bound to stop. A totentanz.

The tall, demonic figure of Alou looms over them, the remains of his wings and arms lashing, the tail like a scorpion’s hitting so close that Poppy can feel the air move their hair. They turn sideways and roll under it before getting on their feet quickly and brandishing their knife, ready to plunge it in –

In front of Alou’s legs, against the dark purple, stands a small, white, lamb-like creature which beady eyes catch Poppy’s across the mayhem.

Chou.

Because when you cut your conscience off and cauterized it, turned it into its own little thing… You didn’t tell the man who wanted to work at a baby animal petting zoo to kill the literal Sanrio looking lamb creature, did you?

Alou’s conscience.

Poppy veers to the side and, instead of delivering a final blow, jumps and rolls to catch the little lamb-like thing in their arms, before dodging out of the way of Alou’s claws – which they succeed in only partially, one of them tearing a long gash into their side. They don’t cry out, but air escapes from their lungs, and they tumble, sacrificing their own safety to make sure Chou doesn’t come to harm, shielding it with their body.

When they finally manage to breathe, they get up shakily. Their left side is wet from blood, some of it matting Chou’s fur that wiggles in their arms, letting out a sad whine.

There is mourning as Poppy looks between the two, Chou and Alou, at the disconnect of the jagged edges that have been displaced and cauterized so as to never reconnect. They remember a game of chess, kissing Alou as they placed the final piece on the table, and check mated his king with their pawn. The last moment they loved.

”… I would never be lonely with you… but… you would be lonely with just me.”

"I want you to be enough." Alou had sounded mournful, but only almost.

"I want to be with you... always. Even if I am not enough… But forever is a very long time... and we need to choose if we deserve hell... as much as we deserve each other..."

They have chosen, now.

“I love… selfishly? No. You do. I chose you over my family, I chose you over everyone, but you never chose me… you proved your loyalty to them when you killed me, but never proved yours to mine. I had thought I’d be fine never being enough for you, but – but I’m not!”

“Unlike you… I mean my words. I don’t lie. My always means always.”

Poppy begins to move again, a bit slower, but picking up in pace. Resolve hardened, steeled, ice cold, like it was when they came here, but now with a purpose not given by others, but one they picked for themself.

“Yours used to, as well. You used to mean the things you said, the things you did… but this… this is not the Dr. Lark who had ambitions and principles… this is a lazy, hollow husk of an imitation that lacks any substance… a pathetic mimicry of someone who I used to think was a worthy opponent… and someone worthy of – of my – ”

Ah. How awful it is to realise you loved someone you thought you hated, but that person no longer exists. Unfortunately, loving reflections and illusions seems to come naturally for them.

Except –

There were plenty of real things they felt.

[♫♫♫]

So many people chose them. So many. Minami came to them, over and over again, even after Poppy denied her apologies, even after they told her they would stay in Hell. But each time, like a stubborn mule, she wanted to be there for them and refused to take no for an answer. Olwin, who despite their rocky beginnings found a common ground with them in books and plays and who read the stories Poppy told him to read (even if he complained they were depressing). Wakako, who despite being killed by them, forgave and said she wanted to spend time with them.

And there are so many feelings – real feelings! Respect for Nike, whom Poppy shared so much common ground with, who taught them how to make smores. Curiosity and weird protectiveness for Raoul, who despite the awkwardness tried to reach out to them and encourage them, a fellow glutton. Understanding for Miori, who was so much like them that it was like looking into a mirror, a bit distorted but still, ultimately, real. Micah, whom they couldn’t understand but still tried to, over and over again, until their incapability to meet in the middle circled around to a weird, shared acceptance of their differences. Caring, and then deep hatred for Yukiko – but even in their conflict, those feelings matter.

And endless care for Miranda, the last person they expected to connect with on such a deep level. Miranda, whom they remember walking in the garden with, looking for the elusive geese, hearing her tell about the friend she sacrificed and the guilt she felt, opening up to them like a flower at dawn. "You could have sacrificed yourself... or given her a choice... or not accepted the college fund... but you didn't. And nothing will ever change that. You're now here, in Hell, and we're trying to find geese... And I don't think... I would like for you to have done anything differently."

They had meant their words. All of that was real.

They never would have wanted any of this to go differently.

The small warmth pressed against their side, living, breathing, quietly whining as it looks up at them with its beady eyes, is also real. The feelings Alou had are still real. Encompassed in Chou are all the pieces of it, the pity, the kindness, the regret, the love, the passion, the genuine messiness of humanity and all the beauty of it, too.

They will always remain within it, separated from Alou…

But not alone. Not so long as Poppy is here to hold it and give it a home.

Two things happen at once in very rapid succession.

First, the broken remains of Alou’s wings, torn asunder by Olwin and Hisashi, come down, trying to spear Poppy and rend them apart.

Second, Poppy feints to the side, drops and rolls, before springing back on their feet and past Alou’s wings, and uses the momentary confusion of destruction to get right in front of him.

“My always just wasn’t meant for you.”

Poppy drives their knife forward into Alou’s exposed chest.

The wound isn’t big. It’s, in fact, not even perceptible when Poppy pulls out the blade. But it strikes true between the fourth and fifth rib, the easiest way to a man’s – a beast’s – heart. When they pull out the blade, there is no sound, except blood oozing and dripping onto the floor.

From the wound, flowers begin to bloom.

At first as deep royal blue like Alou’s blood, before the color is overtaken and fades into the brilliant reds of a poppy – death, rebirth, remembrance, sleep – that engulf his body, growing like a field, up his arms and his wings, before their roots eat away the tainted flesh beneath. He was rotten, and such ground is soft for flowers to bloom, like the muddy fields of Flanders.

Alou’s form fades in a cascade of falling flowers, back into his usual form.

Poppy drops the blade to the ground, using their now free hand to grab the side of his head as he slumps onward, and press a kiss on his forehead.

“Goodbye, Alou. I’m sorry.”

Then, they let go of him, turning away and leaving him behind. They will take with them the parts that matter.

They leave behind that which can only wither.

[♫♫♫]

#mm trial #poppy

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aaliawrites · 9 months

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Circling and Contact and meditation, as practices for amplifying what's there.

An observation ; after spending 4 months this year living in village / a small town island populations, at simplicity and community and kindness and back-to-earth realities taking precedence

There is a difference in the warmth of connection upon meeting strangers.

#1 . City folks live / speak from their heads. And they love a good fight.

(I call them this because this is where I see this behavior / mode the most. But I mean those in any locale who live their days planned in their phones, are caught up in the importance of work, who do not know how to slow down, who don't reflect or meditate, who watch news, movies, who gossip over celebrities, politicians, those who are engrossed in everyday dramas and thereby waste their life force).

They like for there to be an "other" to be against, to blame, to formulate a black and white story, for why they are uncomfortable with an inner tension that needs to be sat with and acknowledged and released.

I watched in circling today as a woman beside me went from attention seeker to smiling while saying harmful things "it feels good saying it", "digging to fight" energy, claiming she liked the sensation, that she wants to "drop deep" and can't do that if she doesn't know me, the newcomer / outsider to the circle.

Yet, fighting doesn't equal connection.

It can uproot towards an eventual truth revealed, but it isn't cause to want to establish this.

I saw in her a mirror, where others, myself included, have craved connection and instead of reaching out with soft hands, perhaps sad eyes, and an open heart, chose anger to deflect.

Without having opening to me, my once curiousity in her shut down. Her guardedness threw up my guardedness, and the energy formulated as I watched us both rail at misunderstanding one oher, missing the boats.

I spoke to how her angry cut to my aquantaince beside me about her disconnection from him was soothed by his simple question, "would you like to connect more later?" Him, a connection and repair break up coach.

How simple it really is, when we allow ourselves to just ask for what we desire, rather than make up stories and dismiss the other as "not for me," avoiding the nuance of inner shadow.

I and others could feel incongruence between her sweet smile, "I don't care" attitude and assumptions she was throwing like knives at others (her earring on my side, was a knife), a slippery slope energy, nothing to hold on to.

Two other men, in a second round, opened up beautifully, emotionally, somatically, with presence, and I wanted to explore their worlds a lot more.

Instant connection and trust built by revealing themselves ~ A Contact Facilitator and a zen meditator.

A vibe that shifted waves in my head, of resonance from the truth and sweetness of what was shared.

Deep, going somewhere. Worlds to explore.

Nuanced in what it means to be with, and to be.

A woman interrupted their flow for a side track on perception of another. The next few minutes a divergence that felt annoying, like someone making small talk in an important moment.

Zen guy and I made eye contact and spoke to her about it, "I couldn't quite follow any of what you were saying".

I wanted to burst, the compulsion from my throat and body leaning forward.

I do say it.

"There's levels I am noticing from being in contact and circling, and I have noticed it before.

#1. There's head speak - city person, logical, facts, observations, (small talk vibe that doesn't go much anywhere and feels "up here" mental).

(My body resists this and I notice I start wanting to stretch, yawn, look away, or meditate. It happens more and more these days, which is also why I avoid most groups. Perhaps this is a realm of why I feel to diagnose Add. The deep drop doesn't often happen in listening quality in most everyday intractions.)

#2. Then there's connection in presence - allowing what is, between two or more people, emotions, uncovering, a viel pulled away to reveal a truth.

This feels like landing in your body. My heart opens in compassion hearing something. A nod.

It feels like truth. I want more.

#3. Then there's the unity of the field - in contact, in meditation, in circling - it's what's being created together by us in the now.

It needs guidance and leading as a soft nudge to carry on, but it doesn't need controlling.

It's part magic, part spiritual, and it needs our engagement to be a full phenomenon.

Usually followed by a silence of being.

Beyond comprehension, beyond describable words after.

Rare.

What we ultimately are living and looking for.

Depth of being."

I said this in some messier way that didn't quite land with the entire group.

A humanly effort to articulate the meaning.

Truth doesn't have to be heard by all at once, only those in the field ready for it to sink in, if only, for a moment.

I was called judgemental.

Yes, I greed.

I don't wish want to foster head-speak connections for too long these days.

I am interested in connecting with others on level 2 & 3.

(Exception is humour. Silly humour always).

Our time and head space are some of the most valuable real estate we own.

In material world that real estate is land.

In spiritual world it's freedom and quality of precense.

In mental world it's your attention and wisdom (not knowledge).

At these levels, great compassion, resilience, and universality of the human experience reigns.

Some got it (the contact facilitator asked questions and zen meditator, who physically shook it off).

Other women told me their inner dragon wanted to come out, some part of them triggered by my use of the words "city person", and that I wasn't "owning it".

"What is there to own?" I replied.

A witch hunt over articulation, them missing the point.

The truth doesn't need owning.

It just is.

It requires setting fire to what's no longer working.

In women (often, not the rule), it requires feeling and seeing the unseen.

In men (often, not the rule) it requires eagle-like witnessing, stability in precense.

Both are magnetic to be around and don't require us to "do" so much, as it's felt.

This requires somatic embodiment and attunment to the instrument that you are, to subtle energetic shifts in yourself and others, ready to name the un-nameable, regardless of acquiescing others fight or flight responses.

Calling us deeper into connection with ourselves, and perhaps, hopefully, with others.

To see it for what it is, the skin of it.

Acceptance of what is here and allowing it to be.

You do not have to speak to be understood by everyone in the room.

You speak to have the present expression shared through you, and the right people who are present in the room, will get it.

You speak to come home to yourself.

(Circling, Canada, August 2023)

#circling #authenticrelating

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3s0t3ric · 11 months

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Watching People Operate Through Fear is so Captivating

The human experience is so divine in the way that we all have complexities, yet all of our experiences are common among certain other populations. Why? All of the sudden social boarders blur and we are among our peers not of just age, but mutual experience.

As I’ve decided to dive into learning more about aspects of myself outside of my academic life which I have spent the past 17 years of my life nourishing, I’ve found it rather troubling to catapult myself into ANY sort of novelty.

In the same stroke as academia, I have also been a vegetarian for 17 years. This means that as a 6 year old KINDERGARTENER, I made the conscious decision to forbid any meat into my body, and boy am I hard headed. Let me tell you, old habits die hard! During a recent trip of mine I had decided now was the time to immerse myself into something that was novel for me. I received a complimentary snack from one of the many restaurants I had visited; the gag is this “snack” contained fish. I was determined to at the VERY LEAST attempt to eat it. I worked myself up for the next two (2) days (48 hours) (2880 minutes but who’s counting) ruminating trying this bite sized, cultural interpretation of what only I could understand as a tuna salad. My dear travel buddy (bless this poor woman for letting me get a box for my 1” by 1” snack) had walked me through the idea of having to go through some things alone, as not to blur your thoughts with the potentially improper guidance of others.

This struck a cord in my highly independent being. Not only did she tell me that i had to do this alone, but I am blessed to have myself, and only myself as my support system.

I am the only person in the world that has spent 100% of my time with me. I know me the best and I know when to push myself, and when I need to let myself rest.

After 2 days, I had finally decided I was in a safe mindset for a new experience. I went to the refrigerator where the rather minimalistic to-go box sat and put the bite of fish cocktail in my mouth. There was an immediate flush of emotions. I was encapsulated; up to my neck and inexplicably unable to breathe? This feeling was comparable to sneezing hours after my wisdom tooth surgery and ripping all 4 stitches simultaneously (I’m not kidding this was WILD). I choked. Not on the food, but I began to cry. As the fear melted to frustration I hear my own mantra I’ve repeated to countless others.

Be gentle with yourself.

If I’m being completely honest, in this point of time I wish I wasn’t so quick to be emotionally intelligent because I wanted to sit in my anger.

Anger is sad’s bodyguard.

What was I truly angry about? Well I was sitting on the cold floor of a shared kitchen in the middle of central Harlem defeated by none other than a scoop of Smokey (tilapia??? Your guess is as good as mine).

But. I did it. All me.

We can’t discount our life experiences. After much consideration, I am proud of how I proceed through fear. I am proud to know I have the mental grit to want to do something, and get it done.

Make it a point to share your feats, yes, but also the character building days that built that person with successes. Healing is not a solo journey. Heal in community and take notes from the ones you trust. Others can share their experiences in a safe environment to encourage deeper thoughts about your own human experiences. We aren’t as distant as we think.

The biggest failure is to not do it,

and

old ways never open new doors.

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