#defeat fear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orlintommas · 1 year

Text

How to defeat fear and outwit the 6 basic fears

Only one more enemy is left with indecision and doubt possibly completely dealt with. And that is fear, to succeed in life one must acquire adequate knowledge on how to defeat fear. Fear is the foundation on which procrastination, timidity, indecision, self-reliance, initiative, discouragement, self-control, lack of ambition, and enthusiasm are built.

The six ghosts of fear

To defeat any enemy, we must know its name, its habits, and where it lives. I aim to shine a light and expose the cause of the six basic fears to give me and you the upper hand against this formidable opponent. And hopefully, with this knowledge, we can outwit the six basic fears. Oh, my bad, the six basic fears are: — fear of POVERTY, fear of CRITICISM, fear of ILL HEALTH, fear of LOSS OF THE LOVE OF SOMEONE, fear of OLD AGE, and fear of DEATH. These are by far the most important fears in life, all other fears are of minor importance.

Note to self, be very careful when dealing with fear, it is nothing but an amalgamation of ghosts with the sole purpose of robbing you of your creativity and drive. A figment of nothingness that is conjured up in the subconscious, making it extremely hard to detect. These ghosts are the results of the uncontrolled imagination of people. They are so powerful and dangerous, so much so that they can take on physical bodies.

Therefore, perform a thorough and deep introspection to ensure that you are not possessed by any of fear’s ghosts. Analyze yourself carefully as you read along and after reading through each subheading determine if that particular fear has latched itself onto you.

The fear of Poverty

It is very simple, to attain riches one must refuse to accept all circumstances that lead to poverty. But remember that the fear of poverty is a state of mind, nothing more and nothing less. A state of mind that is powerful enough to cripple anyone’s chances in any undertaking. This fear is at the top of the list because it is by far the most destructive of the six and the hardest to master. Sometimes we might think that we are not affected by fear but as I said before because it is deeply rooted in your subconscious it is sometimes hard to detect. But here is a list of symptoms to look out for:

Indifference — expressed through the willingness to accept poverty and a lack of ambition.

Indecision — letting others think for you.

Doubt — making excuses for your failures.

Worry — expressed through spending more than you earn, letting yourself go, and a heavy reliance on alcohol and narcotics.

Over-caution — always seeking the negatives in any situation.

Procrastination — planning to do last year’s tasks tomorrow.

Expecting poverty instead of demanding riches — surrounding yourself with people who lament their poverty-stricken state instead of seeking the company of those who desire and acquire riches.

"This fear paralyzes the faculty of reason, destroys the faculty of imagination, kills off self-reliance, undermines enthusiasm, discourages initiative, leads to uncertainty of purpose, encourages procrastination, wipes out enthusiasm and makes self-control an impossibility. It takes the charm from one’s personality, destroys the possibility of accurate thinking, diverts concentration of effort, it masters persistence, turns the will-power into nothingness, destroys ambition, beclouds the memory and invites failure in every conceivable form; it kills love and assassinates the finer emotions of the heart, discourages friendship and invites disaster in a hundred forms, leads to sleeplessness, misery and unhappiness."

Napoleon Hill — Think and Grow Rich

The fear of criticism

This fear can take many forms and often those forms are trivial and petty. No one knows why or when this fear came about but one thing is for sure, those who partake in it, desperately try to fall in line lest someone criticizes them. Parents cause irreparable damage to their children by criticizing them due to the false and naïve belief that it will help make the child a better person. This fear takes away people’s self-reliance, robs initiative, limits individuality, and destroys the power of imagination. Here are the symptoms of the fear of criticism:

Self-consciousness — usually expressed through nervousness.

Lack of poise — poor posture of the body and lack of voice control.

Personality — unable to express opinions definitively, a lack of charm and firmness of decisions.

Inferiority complex — boasting of imaginary achievements and imitating others in dress, behavior, and speech.

Extravagance — spending beyond one’s means, the habit of trying to keep up with the Kardashians.

Lack of initiative — lack of confidence in one’s own ideas, deceit in both deeds and words.

Lack of ambition — being easily influenced by others, and physical and mental laziness.

“Men and women have been burned at the stake for daring to express disbelief in ghosts. It is no wonder we have inherited a consciousness which makes us fear criticism. The time was, and not so far in the past, when criticism carried severe punishments — it still does in some countries.”

Napoleon Hill — Think and Grow Rich

The fear of ill health

The fear of ill health is closely associated with the fear of death. This is because very little is known of the world beyond the dreaded slumber. It is also made worse because of the terrible perception implanted in people’s minds about what may take place if they were to ever fall ill or die. Failure in business and love can also feed into the fear of ill health. Here are the symptoms of the fear of ill health:

Auto-suggestion — negatively using auto-suggestion and always expecting to find the symptoms of all kinds of diseases.

Hypochondria — imagining, talking, and concentrating the mind on diseases until a nervous breakdown occurs.

Exercise — the fear of ill health makes people avoid outdoor activities and exercise which in turn results in becoming overweight.

Susceptibility — when one fears ill health, it creates in them favorable conditions for the disease to manifest itself since the body’s natural resistance has broken down.

Self-coddling — using imaginary illness as a lure for sympathy or as the reason to cover up plain laziness.

Intemperance — using alcohol and narcotics to deal with pain and continuously reading about illnesses and worrying about being struck by them.

“It has been shown most convincingly that the fear of disease, even where there is not the slightest cause for fear, often produces the physical symptoms of the disease feared.”

Napolean Hill — Think and Grow Rich

The fear of loss of love

This fear is the most painful of all the six fears because it causes more damage to the body and mind than any of the other fears (it can literally lead to insanity). This fear presents itself in men and women with different faces. Back in the stone ages men would take their fellow men’s women by brute force. Today the tactics have become more sophisticated. Sweet, melodic words accompanied by Benjamins, a Louis Vuitton shoe, a Chanel bag, a Versace dress, and 4 wheels will do the job just fine. Women on the other hand have learned through thousands of years of experience that men are polygamous by nature and should not be trusted with rivals. Here are the symptoms of the fear of loss of love:

Jealousy — having faith in no one and always being suspicious of others without reason.

Fault finding — finding faults with those around you for no reason or at the slightest provocation.

Gambling — resorting to stealing, gambling, and cheating to provide for loved ones because of the misconception that love can be bought.

The fear of old age

The are two main sources that cause the fear of old age. One is that old age may bring with it poverty. That one might lose the trust of others and end up getting their worldly goods and possessions ceased. Two is the fear of the unknown, the fire and brimstone that awaits those that go beyond the world of the living. Ill health is also a contributing factor to this fear since it is a common feature of old age. Furthermore, the loss of sex appeal also makes the list as one of the causes of fear of old age. Lastly is the fear of loss of freedom and independence. Here are the symptoms of the fear of old age:

Slowing down and developing an inferiority complex as the age of maturity approaches.

Dressing to appear much younger.

The fear of death

Some consider this to be the cruelest of the basic fears. This is closely tied to the fact that for millions of years the question of “who we are?” and “where we come from?” has gone unanswered. No one knows where we come from and where we are going and this is the root of all the turmoil. The world of religion has offered us two options, ETERNITY or ETERNAL HELL FIRE. It is the idea of eternal hellfire that shoots the fear of death off the roof. Here are the symptoms of fear of death:

Continuously thinking about dying instead of living.

The six basic causes of fear must be eliminated because that is the only way to succeed in life. How to defeat fear starts with taking control of your mind. Fear is a state of mind that is deeply rooted within the subconscious. Therefore, you must start by digging deeper and changing your habits, thoughts, and ideals from the subconscious level.

#fear #overcome fear #defeat fear #six basic fears #outwit fear #defeat procrastination #tips to defeat fear

0 notes

aroaceleovaldez · 2 months

Text

chewing on big 3 kids being capable of absolutely devastating natural disasters and apocalypse-level outbursts of power.

Percy who creates hurricanes complete with lightning that pummel titans and flooding and whirlpools that can trap god-powered crocodile kaijus. Earthquakes that erupt volcanoes. Hazel who sunk an entire small island entirely on her own with her final breath, against giants and a primordial goddess of the earth.

If Nico dramatically wilts plants and cracks the ground when he's mildly stressed, and disintegrates enemies down to their skeletons with a single touch or rips their souls out of their still-living bodies, and can command armies of the undead, what happens if he tries to cause destruction? Even outside of total zombie apocalypse or insta-killing a crowd, he's shown enough geokinesis to absolutely be capable of the same destruction Percy and Hazel can manifest.

What about Jason? He can control the winds and storms. There's no way he can't create the most destructive tornadoes with casual effort that he can never justify using for the collateral damage they'd cause. With a single thought he can rip up a town and launch the remnants 50 miles out. (Jason in the center of a Dead Man Walking tornado, vortexes responding to his movements like an avatar...)

And what can anyone do to combat it? How can you fight the wind lifting everything you know and love into the sky, or floods sweeping you away, or the ground giving way beneath you? The Big 3 kids are scary because they are forces of nature, and their whims are the only thing preventing you from witnessing that at any given moment.

#pjo #percy jackson #riordanverse #hazel levesque #nico di angelo #jason grace #sorry Thalia and Bianca [pensive emoji] Thalia's probably just with Percy in hurricane-making club #cause she doesnt have the wind powers like Jason has especially cause those are probably specifically an Hera thing #and Bianca never got to show off her elemental powers u_u though she probably has equal geokinesis to her siblings #listen im thinking about Jason and tornadoes mostly okay #the mental image of *that* being how he defeated Krios in parallel to Percy making the hurricane to fight Hyperion #just tearing up half of Saturn's palace and scattering it across the Garden of the Hesperides #and the rest of the legion can barely see what's happening #they just see the tornado in the shape of a person and the shadow of Jason in the center illuminated by lightning #like YEAH maybe the legion would revere and fear him a little bit after that

641 notes · View notes

ladyrijus · 9 months

Text

TOTK where everything is more or less the same except the dragon tears are as giant as the springs that Zelda went to, and Link has to wade through them to experience the vision. On top of that, after he sees the vision in full, he can relive that vision for as long as he stays in those tears.

Now, the reason why I want that is because I want to see Link witness the final memory and turn numb with denial and guilt and grief. It should not have surprised him the way it did; he knew in the previous memories she had planned to do it. But there were still more geoglyphs to search, still more time and hope for her to realize there was a different way, a better one that didn't ask her of so much.

He was wrong, of course. Destinies like theirs were never so generous.

Imagine that he appears expressionless, a stark contrast to his more emotional nature that has come out during gameplay. And yet his eyes are noticeably glazed over and he's frozen to the bed of the spring. The sages watch him through their vows, knowing this to be the last memory, and they feel it, immediately, that something is wrong. They desperately try to talk through their avatars, much to the surprise of their loved ones.

"Link? Link, snap out of it!"

He hears nothing.

And so the scene parallels to the off-screen moment Urbosa had with Zelda -- a careful Sidon wills his avatar to carry Link away from the cursed waters, and is pained when he's met with vehement resistance. Why would his wonderful friend drag himself back there, when whatever he saw tore his heart and shattered his soul? It wasn't good for him, to deal with grief in such a poisonous manner.

But for Link, he would weather the heartbreak in watching that bright, curious, ambitious girl sacrifice everything that made her who she was infinitely if it meant he could commit her face to memory. The Sheikah Slate that he took pictures of her with had been dismantled, and the Purah Pad contains no recollection of Zelda. He would watch his princess lose herself, over and over again, in that damned tear, than forget what she looked like.

He couldn't do that to her. Not again.

In the meantime, Tulin, Riju, and Yunobo have created a circle around him together, blocking the hero from hurting himself any further.

By this point, Link's expression is wavering, brows furrowed and lips pressed to a thin line. They don't get it, do they? All of the closest friends he had from an era past are gone; yes, Impa, Purah and Robbie are still alive, and they belong to that era too, but they didn't know him like the Champions did. Like Zelda did. She fought for him in death as much as he fought for her in life, and now he lost her too.

He finally collapses to the ground, shaking, and cries.

He had one job: Protect the princess. And he failed her. Twice.

969 notes · View notes

territorial-utopia · 8 months

Note

Lovia is hot‼️😍🔥

He knows. (He's joking, and possibly drunk)

I spent way too long on this ask. I mean, it's a year and a half old and from day 1 I had this idea in my head.

#giant/tiny #gianttiny #giant tiny #niart noitamina #niart #dragon's lair #lovia #rly porud of how the hair turned out jahsdjkhasdj #finally defeating my fear of animating on 1's to smooth things out #also no ethan is not a voice claim for lovia this audio just lives rent free in my head #animation

274 notes · View notes

magical-girl-coral · 8 months

Text

Canonical evidence of every Fear and Hunger S ending in the Termina

Happy Ending

Cahara's sword in "Happy Ending" is the Sabbath sword you can find at the church. While it was said it was developed by Vatican city in the 1700s, this is also the same city that secretly did human experiences on innocent people to get closer to the old gods so chances are they were lying about this too.

If I had to guess, Cahara used his massive wealth to create weapons against creatures of the night and some of them somehow ended up in the hands of Vatican knights. Maybe one of his family members decided to start their own knighthood against monster and it massively backfired.

The true God of Fear and Hunger

While originally I was on the fence on this one thanks to ending C II, the Kaiser's flesh form was what sold me. That, and the fact that he mentions in his monologue before you fight him how he roamed the earth while out of his mind fits perfectly with Le'grade's derangement after D'arce resurrects him.

The only thing I'm bothered with is how D'arce doesn't have any hints of her existence in Termina. You'd think she'd get at least one name drop if she was the one who brought the Kaiser back from the dead.

The Enlightenment

The ending I'm the happiest is the most canon has got be Enki's just because of the lore drops we get from his skin bibles. It's interesting to note that Enki knew the God of Fear and Hunger was originally a nameless girl and that she was already a demi god thanks to her mother.

It also said that "[The God of Fear and Hunger] was the pure representation of fear and hunger, not spoiled by even a glimmer of hope", which is odd cause the player can and should bring the girl her doll and knife to make her more useful in battle and to make her feel lighter with the situation at hand.

It makes me wonder who brought the girl down to the depths if they made it obvious she was never getting out.

God of Ultra Violence

It's pretty much an open secret now that August is a descendant of Ragnvaldr thanks the cannibalism trait in his soul tree, his friendship with moonless and how the only contestant he truly open ups to is Abella, the only other person from Oldegård. I didn't even notice until I wrote this post that they both even have the exact same hair in their profiles.

It's also nice to know Le'grade is still getting his ass handed to him by a guy who not only got to get the title of a god before him, but also by the clan he build after he escaped the dungeons. Truly a massive L. We love to see it ❤.

#this is just me getting pissed at all the 'cahara was the one who brought the girl down to the depths since he never gets a mention'#HE DOES GET MENTIONED #JUST SEARCH HARDER #also technically D'ARCE could be the one who brought the girl down to the depths since Le'garde could also be defeated in ending c ii #Anyway rant over #Fear and Hunger #Cahara #D'arce #Ragnvaldr #Enki

192 notes · View notes

fightwing · 3 months

Text

bruce immediately asking if he hurt dick after days spent infected yeah okay dc i see this and i raise you: 😭😭😭

#such a difference between this #and like tita.ns year one when bruces first words were something like 'you shouldve figured it out sooner'#like GROWTH (the growth is me crying then to crying harder now)#also can i just say dg is so fucking stupid what do u mean he was going to reveal his identity to the president #like did we not JUST go through the grayso/n arc where he had to die and agent-ify and take down spyr/al to erase everyone knowing hes nwin #but overall love that the titan.s defeating beast wor.ld with the power of friendship #hate the rae cliffhanger like has she ever known rest but theres so much to unpack #titans spoilers #beast world spoilers #tuesday spoilers #comic spoilers #kory being the contingency for donna 😫 also the fact dick has custom made nwing logo manila folders 🫥🫥🫥 very on brand i fear #also roy was in the picture when the tower exploded so im counting that as confirmation roy is joining the team again #the teamwork of it all i love it here <33333 #* i'd love to write but it's just not realistic / ooc.

74 notes · View notes

vickyvicarious · 11 months

Note

seeing ppl go "lol jonathan why are you admitting you found them hot what will mina think of you when she reads it!!!" has me go "*shakes you* you are going against the thesis of the book!!!"

I know some of why is dependent on knowledge of future events, and so people new to Dracula Daily won't be aware of it. But to be honest, Jonathan admitting his attraction to the vampire ladies is so, so important to me. On several different character levels, even outside of the entire book proving over and over again that sharing knowledge is absolutely vital (and is also an expression of deep love/trust/support).

Let's just stick the quote in here for reference:

There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain; but it is the truth.

Firstly - he needs to keep an accurate record. This is his only place to speak freely, his only opportunity to be precise about what he is going through. It is vitally important for him to keep his sanity intact that he be clear and try to remain logical in this diary. We see him fact-checking again and again. We can extrapolate from other statements that he doesn't always mention everything he suspects unless he feels it relevant or possible to prove. For example, repeatedly noting Dracula himself doing things before ever getting around to voicing the theory that the Count has no servants (he collected evidence first, didn't speak his suspicions until they were proven). Or putting the crucifix above his bed and taking the opportunity to sleep elsewhere, thus pointing to feeling unsafe and possibly experiencing bad dreams in his own room (he mentioned what he does about it, but not the feeling on its own or whatever nightmares he may be having). Jonathan works very hard to keep his diary focused on a few things above all: what the Count/ladies are, what everyone does, what Jonathan observes or learns, his actionable plans. He of course expresses his fears and emotions at times in his diary, more than he can out loud, but never going all the way down the rabbithole of fear, hopelessness, etc. He tries to calm himself by sticking to facts (all the harder when something strange is happening), which is in itself a soothing process for him so that's helpful too. His goal is to make this diary useful to himself and to others, if he ever gets the chance to share it. There is a goal here.

And what that means, is that the things Jonathan writes in great detail are things that feel relevant to him. The entire encounter with the vampire ladies was extremely important. It revealed a ton of new information to him, as well as being a truly horrifying and traumatic thing to go through. Jonathan's feelings are as relevant as his observations/actions here, because both are directly affected by the presence of the vampire women. Jonathan can't move. He feels dreamy. He feels attracted to them. He cannot resist and in the moment a large part of him didn't even want to. These are all effects they are causing, at least to some extent. I know mileage can vary a lot on how much of Jonathan's attraction is just coming from him, but honestly, I can't agree with any version that doesn't have a natural attraction at the very least being exacerbated by supernatural vampire abilities somehow. If not caused or called forth by them in the first place. The way he narrates, with so much obvious fear and revulsion mixed in with the desire, makes that clear to me. He sounds like he doesn't fully understand his own feelings at the time, at least where they all came from or why they were so strong. It goes along with all the other symptoms he is experiencing, and the other abilities they demonstrate. And so, to keep his record accurate - it has to go in. He cannot leave it out. It might become very relevant later.

Secondly - Jonathan is honest with Mina, specifically. I love this about their relationship. I don't think it's so much 'I noticed they were attractive' that he fears might hurt her, because Mina isn't particularly shy herself about noticing both women and men as good-looking, and even admiring their looks while on a date with Jonathan (poor Pretty Girl in Piccadilly). He also called local women pretty in his first entry as well (though he did say "except when you got near them" so it felt a bit backhanded to me), so again it's not the noticing that's an issue either way. It's more that he felt actual desire to act on an attraction, or rather for them to act. This is unusual, this is a separate matter from noticing people are hot, this is something that comes much closer to cheating or at least wanting to, and he feels very guilty about it. There's no real sense that he is worried Mina will be angry at him, and there's no sense that he will ever outside of that one moment ever want to act on any attraction he feels for someone other than Mina (or someone Mina also approves of, varying depending on your polycula headcanons). I personally do kind of tend to view Jonathan as some form of demisexual so how much he even tends to feel attraction to other people is often a little wibbly to me, but that's kind of irrelevant for the point of this. We can also set aside the shared language of "kiss" between Jonathan and the vampire ladies, and how this may point to a desire to become available for being drunk from, rather than necessarily sexual desire specifically, even if that's the type of language used. With regards to Mina: he's not worried about being caught, because he is choosing not to hide. He feels bad talking about the attraction because it might hurt her feelings, but he'll admit to it regardless because it's more important to him to be honest with her. Jonathan hates hiding things from Mina. This actually becomes plot-relevant later on. Even when she herself expressly forbids him from telling her stuff, he feels anguished about it and is certain to ensure that records are kept which she can read later. He trusts her completely. Embarrassment, shame, bad behavior, or whatever else - he will still share that with her. The only times he doesn't confide in Mina are when he's trying to repress everything because he thinks he was crazy (and possibly may even have some PTSD-related memory loss as well), or when he and the other men are trying to make sure she isn't exposed to danger (which is wrong in several ways but this post isn't about that so I won't get into it), and of course when she tells him not to. Every single time he feels upset about it. So yeah, he's going to regret that she may feel hurt, but deliberately hiding things from her would be worse.

Thirdly - Jonathan admitting his attraction here is a huge comfort to Mina later on. I truly believe this. I've talked about it before actually, but let me try to rephrase a bit to keep it on the same post. By being open about his own attraction and experience with nearly being drunk from, he provides precedent for Mina's October 3rd trauma. It makes it easier (though obviously still not easy) for her to admit to the same kind of desire:

"I was bewildered, and, strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him. I suppose it is a part of the horrible curse that such is, when his touch is on his victim."

Mina never blamed Jonathan for expressing such thoughts. She wasn't concerned about the issue being another woman when she came to him in the hospital, and when she read his diary she never mentioned any hesitations or misgivings about this scene at all. But even if she had secretly felt upset before (I personally don't see her thinking that way at all, but for the sake of argument), I think that experiencing something similar would make her grateful for Jonathan's candor. In a moment when she's already feeling deeply unclean and complicit, Jonathan's earlier honesty here relieves her from a little bit of the guilt she is feeling. It lets her recognize her own lack of desire to stop Dracula as something he did to her, just like Jonathan experienced with the vampire ladies when he couldn't/didn't want to move away. It's possible even that Mina felt more explicit desire for Dracula's 'red lips to kiss her' but didn't feel comfortable saying quite that much - even if so, again Jonathan's account would be a comfort.

And having that account written down long ago means she has already internalized this. If Jonathan had kept it hidden only to try and ease her mind later, well... first off, Mina too might have kept her reaction hidden out of guilt. And even if she didn't or he told her then, a confession at that time wouldn't mean nearly as much or carry the same kind of weight, I don't think. It would feel like he's making excuses for her, like he didn't trust her enough to tell her earlier, just... bad stuff mixed in, which are all avoided by having Jonathan be truthful from the start.

#dracula daily spoilers #dracula daily #jonathan harker #mina murray #jonmina #anonymous #replies #my meta #sorry anon i feel like you were wanting to talk more about the 'sharing is caring' thesis so to speak #but this is where my thoughts went for now #obviously also though the book demonstrates again and again that concealing the truth (whether well-meant or not) is NOT HELPFUL #that trust is demonstrated via laying oneself emotionally bare and GIVING INFORMATION even when it isn't in your favor #that dracula specifically thrives on confusion and hidden fear and a lack of communication and that the key to his defeat #is to work together. to show love through being open about everything that is happening to you no matter how shameful or scary #to support one another. and to admit when you need support.#sorry i probably shoulda added a readmore. didn't think about it till later

321 notes · View notes

whumpitisthen · 4 months

Text

Perfect Present

Small little cw: this one has a pretty long noncon undressing scene! I never write nsfw, but this one can definitely be interpreted as suggestive, so just a heads up!

“I never expected to be blessed with such a sweet little present.”

He is numb. The air burns as he is carried past the thick, decorated wooden door. His shivering does not ebb from the sudden warmth, only worsens at the stranger’s words.

It's hard to concentrate on anything but the daunting prominence of approaching death squeezing his heart. Though he lacks the energy to act upon his fear in any meaningful way, he understands that he is in more than a little danger. The snowstorm that had caught him out in the middle of the woods could not have come at a more inopportune time; in a place where the nearest sign of civilisation was kilometres away. The distance would have been no issue if the skies remained clear, but the freezing winds cut through his coat so efficiently that he can only pray his fingers will thaw out in one piece.

“God knows how much longer you would have survived if I hadn't found you when I did.” — They found him collapsed in the snow, too exhausted to keep stumbling on towards what he hoped was the edge of the forest. His skin blue, his boots drenched, his hair frozen stiff from his own sweat; it's a miracle he hadn't fallen unconscious. — “But there is no need to worry now. I will take good care of you.”

It smells like pine and sugar. The walls are alight in colour, reflecting in the pond of his own glassy eyes. Classical music floats from the left as they pass by. He floats along in the arms of the stranger bringing him deeper into his home. In front of the fireplace, he is laid under a marvelous silver pine standing proud and fearless of the flames licking at its leaves from afar. The rug under him is soft, heavenly so.

“There you are. That feels nice, doesn't it? Those frozen little fingers will melt in no time.” — The stranger covers him in thick blankets, providing pillows to lean on as he coos these reassurances to him. — “I will go look for replacement clothes. We can't have you stay in that drenched, muddy coat, now can we?”

He does not wonder why the stranger seems to linger beside him before turning to leave. He does not mind the hand that cards through his hair affectionately, only happy for the heat that passes onto his scalp for a moment. He doesn't see the fond expression on his face, the way those eyes rake over his body slowly, as if taking in a wonderful, serene landscape. He sees no wrong just yet, focused only on his one goal of keeping his own heart beating.

The stranger returns with clean clothing not three minutes later, setting it aside onto the couch for now. With his blanket covered back to him, he shivers incessantly, gasping. Staring into the flames becomes painful, the heat forcing his eyelids closed against his will.

Removing the soaked through boots and pants should be priority in this situation, but the stranger finds himself enamoured by the weakness and vulnerability he shows as he lies there helplessly, curling tighter and tighter into himself. It is awfully difficult to tear his eyes away from those quivering blue lips. One thought comes and passes, offering to keep his clothes on for a while longer, just to prolong his beautiful suffering. Then another, more devilish one supplies him with a darker idea upon witnessing his fragile neck peeking out from under all that fabric — perhaps undressing him would be more satisfying in the end. The urge to peel back every layer coating his divine skin slowly, meticulously revealing flesh to be explored in earnest nests inside him and refuses to leave. Truly, unwrapping a present is half the fun after all.

Perhaps there will be no need for replacement clothes either way.

Wordlessly, he kneels by the bundle of trembling cloth, pulling him closer lightly. With a hand on his shoulder, he turns him onto his back, taking hold of those icy hands grasping the cover like it is trying to escape them. His present looks up at him with wide, terrified eyes; soon that fear will be converted to a more special, deeper kind of fear. He will not be nearly as afraid of the cold as he will be of the stranger.

Those eyes become a little wider when pulls away the blanket, even wider when he straddles him and starts unbuttoning his coat with an eager expression. It takes a couple buttons for his present to understand that this is not right, wriggling and whimpering quietly, confused. He becomes nervous when the buttons run out and his coat is pulled away to reveal nothing but a flimsy dress shirt underneath. It isn't even fully buttoned up, leaving a prominent collarbone exposed under the dishevelled, wrinkled material.

The stranger tuts at him disapprovingly. — “So careless...”

The pause is a little too long for comfort, passed by as the man takes in his form before he returns to unwrapping his gift, a warm knuckle caressing the naked skin as his hands move to the next button. Even through the exhaustion, confusion, terror and pain, the cold mess of limbs understands how dangerous it is to be undressed in such a way in a stranger's home.

“S-S-Stop, p-, stop, no…” — Those blue fingertips come into view as they try to push numbly at the stranger's hands, squirming uncomfortably. He cannot feel if their hands meet at all, but he can hear the slaps as he jerks his hands into the other’s arms and chest frantically, kicking out and twisting.

The man looks at him a while, not bothered in the least. He just smiles at his desperate, yet pathetic efforts at fighting him, fighting back just as weakly by repositioning his head and wrists faster than he could comprehend with his dizzy mind, but letting up right after to watch those limbs fly around like useless flesh worms. Once the struggle becomes more annoying than entertaining however, he simply takes those wild arms and pins them under his knees, securing them in place so he can continue unboxing in peace.

At the miserable grunt that he makes once he realises how trapped he really is, the stranger only hushes him, — “be good. I am only trying to help you, can't you see? You are soaked.”

He had to use so much energy just to force his useless, heavy limbs to do something, but it only amused the man. He feels the shirt open button by button, powerless to do absolutely anything about it. The violent shivering only worsens once his naked skin touches the air, goosebumps rising at the feeling. It's warm, but cold at the same time, burning all the same.

The stranger’s fingers running down his torso bring tears of frustration and humiliation to his eyes, his face contorting into the very definition of misery. His struggles renew when that hand reaches under the shirt, circling around to feel his now swiftly beating heart, while the other cups the side of his stomach bouncing up and down with each of his panicked gasps for air. He cannot bear it any longer once the hand lifts from his chest up all the way under his chin, taking hold of his neck.

“Don’t, d-d-d-don’t, pl-ease, please, I-I-I-I, I c-can’t, I can't —”

“You don't need to. I will take care of you.”

That only makes him sob in earnest. A broken no is all that makes it out before he devolves into fearful whimpers and cries, thoroughly overwhelmed from going through multiple life-threatening crises at the same time. The grip tightens ever so slowly, experiencing the way his neck twitches and pulses, the frigid, pale blue skin stretching over an artery pumping dangerously cool blood hysterically under cruel fingertips caressing it. It's hard to tell through the tears covering his vision in confusing sparkles, but he can definitely feel the intense attention of the man glaring down at him in morbid fascination.

His hand never grows tight enough to strangle him, but it gets very close. Laboured, wheezing breaths already coming out forced now turn even smaller, just a little harsher, thinner, just enough to start hurting from the warm pressure. Once it reaches that point however, it returns to simply lying on top of his neck, an almost pleasant coat over him to slowly warm him through.

The stranger pauses for a moment, considering his thoughts. He makes a decision unbeknownst to his present, and moves to continue removing his clothes instead. His hand slips from feeling up his neck towards his shoulder, helping him out of the coat and the shirt at the same time, revealing even more damp, icy flesh underneath. Skin contact between the two of them brings goosebumps in its wake, as if the lost man's very body itself was flaring up to stretch into the warmth of the other. Scary, dangerous, uncomfortable and wrong, yet so pleasant, necessary, and enchanting at the same time. He needs that warmth to stay alive, but that hand will never let him go once it truly latches onto him.

The fire crackles too loud to hear his thoughts over. Focusing on anything but what is being done to him is a herculean task, only overpowered by the endless ice encircling his lungs. The more naked he feels, the less he fights, with his shoulders now bare and free, and his arms slender and fragile and useless all the same. His boots are pulled off him with little issue, soaked through socks following behind. It feels equally awful, yet relieving to be rid of the heavy, water clogged clothes. A towel is given to him then, the man noticing his shamefully weak arms hugging himself desperately, which then hold onto the towel even more fiercely, laying it over as much of his body as he can. It provides minimal warmth and privacy, but is more than welcome.

His pants are being unbuttoned then, and he kicks out in horror instinctively. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like this! — “P-P-Please, I can, I c-can —”

“No,” — he is swiftly cut off by the stranger, a tone not unkind.

He curses his heavy, frozen tongue for stuttering and failing so miserably, just like the rest of his body. He curses the weather that caught up to him so suddenly, that caused the hypothermia and weakness, the insistent winds that thirsted him into submission, sucking all power out of him. He curses the man most of all, for finding him, for taking him without so much as a question, for bringing him to a warm log cabin, to a lovely little home dressed in glimmer and blown through by an aroma hard to resist, for laying him in front of the fireplace, telling him all the while that he will help, that he is saved, and that he is such a lucky man to be found by him. He curses the stranger for lying to him, and taking advantage of him, and pulling unbothered on his trousers until he is fully naked, in a stranger's home, in the middle of a quiet, snowy nowhere, frozen to near death and sobbing in petrifying fear, forced to endure powerlessness and lay under the stranger as he does as he pleases with him.

The towel quickly shoves downward as his only shield against peering, curious eyes. He begs, though he can barely manage to utter out a single word understandable through his unfeeling lips. He keeps begging, he keeps resisting, he keeps squirming and whining and crying and clawing, but he is simply not a threat. It would not take more than a gentle pair of large, soft hands to peel away his own from his body, bringing the towel with. The stranger pauses again, letting his gaze and touch wander his body, touching just over his navel with such gentleness and hunger that he can barely hold himself from screaming as loud as he can.

Luckily, he stops soon enough, mercifully not dipping any lower to feel him up any more. The unnerving silence — or lack of conversation, to be precise, as the stranger's present is more than vocal about how much he hates this — is finally broken, the man leaning over him rousing himself free from this terrifying, lustful, obsessive mood he put himself into with a couple blinks. His eyes return to focusing on him as a person; as opposed to drinking in his body as a gift. — “There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?”

He takes the dry, heavenly soft towel and bundles him in it with care, lifting and manhandling him into a sitting position looking towards the fire. Another towel comes soon after, massaging his scalp as the stranger begins rubbing his hair dry. It is uncomfortable, but at the moment, he is only glad he is no longer being straddled on the ground, now keeping his knees high up under his chin and his body well hidden under the layers of cover.

The change in mood is not lost on the stranger. — “This feels good, doesn't it? Much better, without all that fighting. You are safe with me.”

“N-N-N-No, I-I’m, I-I-I’m not, I'm not…”

“Shhhh…” — the man shushes him again, sitting down behind him to hug him close, — “it's hard to speak, I know. The shivering will die down soon enough. No need to force it. I know.”

In a sudden all-consuming anger that flares up in his chest at the condescending tone, he jerks backwards to headbutt the stranger holding him hostage in his embrace, in his house, getting way, way too comfortable with his helplessness. It's infuriating; not only his pathetic state of vulnerability making it impossible to even do anything on his own, but that the stranger thinks he can just do anything he wants, that he can just take him and touch him and mock him and talk over him like this, while knowing fully well that the only reason he is still unharmed is because his ‘gift’, as he so creepily put it, is still thawing out from a snowstorm. If they were on equal footing, he would already be unconscious from how hard he'd have pummelled him as soon as he started taking his clothes off.

Unfortunately, even through the fury that takes hold of him, his movements are sluggish at best, and the man easily dodges him both times he tries to fight back this way. Even worse, he laughs, and only holds him closer, squeezing the breath out of him with one arm, and holding his head snapped back over his shoulder with the other, effectively pinning him arched over himself. — “Simmer down, sweetness. You'll hurt yourself.”

He only struggles for a small few seconds, then swiftly runs out of energy. His anger remains, slowly melting like a candle, eating itself alive. — “Wh-Why won't, w-won’t you let me go? Please, just, j-j-just sto-pp t-touching me!”

The list of the stranger's creepy, condescending mannerisms just keeps growing ever longer. This time, he pets his hair affectionately, humming a sympathetic, yet disapproving sound. — “I am not letting you go because you need help. You are shivering like a leaf, poor thing. You can barely move. Barely talk. You cannot take care of yourself.”

“I can, I c-can!”

“No, you can not.” — The facade of gentle kindness slips just a tad, his voice, while still pleasant, cuts with an edge that wasn't there before. There is a finality to his words, almost parental; however, the danger feels much more intimidating than just a usual scolding. The rumble of the stranger's tone right next to his ear doesn't help either. — “Be patient. I will show you how well I can take care of you, you'll see. I am very generous. It's the least I can do, after all.”

It takes an indescribable amount of will to force himself to even understand the extent of his situation, much less fight and argue with a mad man, so he just weeps in silence, going limp once again. He is slowly, excruciatingly warming by the fire, at least. One of his worries will be solved, and he is still alive. That is definitely a good thing. Now if only he wasn't basically kidnapped for that to have happened.

He holds out hope for when he feels better. Once he can move and speak like normal again, and stand his ground — or even just stand, period — he will fight him off, or look for an exit.

For now, he is exhausted. The warmth surroundings him, however unpleasant, relaxes him further into the arms of his captor. His still damp hair is becoming room temperature. His quivering is fading, bit by bit. He still twitches, his lungs still feel less than adequate, and he is just so incredibly tired. The stranger stands up at some point, leaving him for a while. Says he will return with some warm soup — must have gotten bored of waiting in silence. Without the support of the other man, he leans to the side and ends up curled up on the floor, dozing off.

By the time the man returns, steaming hot soup in his hands, he finds his gift passed out, cocooned up in the middle of his living room, right under the christmas tree. It's a delightful sight, even more so once he notices his rough wheezes as he sleeps, a perfect background noise in tandem with the quiet Händel playing in the hallway. It's so peaceful — the snow has covered everything outside with a thick coat, the sun has gone down, the fireplace has warmed up the whole cabin and the food is ready. It is the most perfect Christmas evening, made flawless by having such a pretty little present sleeping soundly under the tree. Vulnerable, gorgeous, far from home and with the sweetest little tears still glistening on his cheeks rose red from the cold.

Nothing could ruin this, least of all an unruly present.

The stranger sits down on his couch, watching intently the delicious sight, sipping on the delicious vegetable soup. He looks so defenceless like that. Naked, bundled up, unconscious. So many awful ideas spawn in the stranger's mind as he fantasises about all the things they will do together. All the fun they will have.

He could keep him in the shed, but not just yet, it's much too cold. He can keep him in his house, but then he will not have his own room. Then again, his gift doesn't need his own room. He could stay in the stranger's bedroom, locked up nice and safe. They could sleep in the same bed… maybe he could even chain him to the bedpost. Have a sweet thing like him always be right where he belongs. He does not need to leave, all he needs to do is let himself be taken care of. Yes, that sounds just delightful.

He will have to make sure to keep him in check. He can already tell this boy will be trouble if left to his own devices. He will need to be tamed. Carefully. He will need to be taught his place. He will need to be punished harshly for every wrong thought that crosses his mind. That's how he will be good enough to keep. Good enough to spoil with all the attention and care he could ever imagine. A good boy, who will keep him company out here, all on his own. The stranger will make him perfect.

No one will hear him scream. He can yell and fight all he wants. He cannot leave here. Not now that he was given to the stranger like this. The best Christmas present he could have ever asked for.

Hopefully by the time next year's Christmas comes around, he will have learned to be thankful for all his owner had done for him on this day, and will have had plenty of reminders carved into his skin, marking him as property, that he will be able to admire from the sofa like he does today. He will watch him wheeze in his sleep, and curl up bare in front of the crackling fire, and he will go up to him then and remind him of the day he was given to him as the most perfect little present.

Masterlist I Ko-fi

#whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #my writing #whump writing #fear #sadistic whumper #hypothermia #captivity #noncon touching #noncon stripping #nsft #suggestive #crying #this came out a bit late but eho cares its still Christmas in my heart #it is not massive tho! i have defeated my curse! i can write shorter things!

93 notes · View notes