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leaawrites · 4 months ago

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Literature and feelings

Eli Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: when she can't sleep, he's the one to hold her.

This was a short story of my own originally, not a fanfic, so it's a lot of yapping in there, but I didn't have anything other to post and I do like it a lot and it'd be a waste if it was rotting away in some document.

Warnings: mentions of insomnia (I don't personally have it, I just go to bed late, still I hope this is as accurate as possible), pet names, College AU (I'm solely focused on school atm if you can't tell), friends to lovers

Wordcount: 2k

Masterlist

When you are having a sleep disorder, your eyes will stay open when they should be closed and your mind is active, noticing the slightest of details. You will hear the branch outside your room hit the window when it’s a windy night, you will hear the people talking outside the door when they should sleep (wondering if they feel the same way oneself does or if they just do it for the other), you can hear your brain work through the sleepless nights, noticing every thought it has.

If it isn’t occupied by all the noises surrounding it, it begins thinking about all the people you give your time to. You begin counting the people who hate you, that did something bad to you and before you can fall into the rabbit hole of self-hatred, you remind your mind that there are people that like you. You’ll remember phrases they’ve said, secrets they shared, feelings they opened up to; if nothing about them comes up, or you already went through it, you begin to think about what you’ve said, what secrets you’ve shared, how you feel about them.

Her mind begins at the start, when the sun goes down and she lies in the comfort of her bed, surrounded by old coffee cups, stacks of books, flowers (fresh and dead next to each other), and the smell of old paper, oranges and ink. She notices the willow tree hitting her dorm room window together with the slight rain drops that come falling down from the sky.

Mary and Rose are outside, taking advantage of the only time when no one will see the affection they share for each other, talking and sharing a kiss here and there, until the first person comes out and they decide it’s saver to go to bed, alone. The door next to hers makes a sound as it is opened and then melodies of kissing and further love fill the room; Bobby and Martha could never spent more than two hours without the other.

She turns on her other side, leg draping over the bed sheets, one of her arms crawling under the pillow, holding it up so that her head can lay comfortable. Her eyes close and the only thing on her mind is static silence. The hope of finally falling asleep is near, it’s hanging from the wall and in front of her eyes. She stretches her hand out to grab it, her fingertips touching it.

But then the pedestal she stood on cracked, making her fall to the ground.

The noises of Bobby and Martha make her head turn to the wall that separates them, disgusted by hearing what they are doing.

Throwing a shirt over her pyjama, that consisted of a pair of shorts and a bra, before walking out the door. In the hallway Mary and Rose gave her a look, asking if she knew, to which she only smiled at them, both going back to their cigarette and conversation after; Josh stood a few feet away, leaning out the window talking with someone about going out, the smoke of the cold winter night coming from his mouth as he spoke.

With her arms around her chest she made her way through the boy’s hallway. Some giving her a weird look, as if they never went into the girl’s chambers. Ryan, a guy from her English class, greeted her as he stood in the doorway talking with someone on the phone.

“Wait, Y/n.” He called after her, hanging up the phone. “Eli isn’t in such a good mood today, went to bed early, he might as well be asleep already.”

“I will be quiet and try to not wake him up, even when I don’t think he went that early to bed to already sleep. But thank you for informing me.” she thanked him, walking a few steps backwards, waving him good night and the turning around again.

Eli’s room was at the end of the hall, making it easy for him to stay up late or letting out his anger at 2 in the morning, about something stupid or feelings that he swallowed into his own existence rather than making them known, without anyone noticing. Sat with his guitar until the sun came up.

Inhaling deeply, letting the air fill her lungs, feeling her chest go up and down, she pushed the handle down slowly and stepped into the dark room. Eli was laying with his back to the door, his blanket pulled up to his chin. Curtains not fully closed, making the moon shine down on him; the light reflecting on his white skin in a room floated by darkness, making it seem like the shimmer of the sea.

Closing the door behind her, she took one step after the other, making her way towards his bed. The mattress shifted as she sat on the edge of it, and even though his eyes are closed, he’s not asleep. His breath was still static and his jaw looked more tensed than relaxed.

“I was almost sleeping.” He mumbled, his tone harsh, opening an eye to see who interrupted his peace.

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking down at her fingers that were fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Don’t be,” He answered, lifting the blanket and moving over so she could fit under it as well. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, turning his body so they were facing each other, when she laid beside him. His eyes looked genuine and soft, a small hint of tiredness laying in them too.

“Yeah, something completely new,” she answers sarcastically, trying to play the guilt off that she felt for waking him up.

“You wanna do something?”

“No.” Rest her head on his chest, she let her breathing settle to his heartbeat. In the moment of silence, her mind makes up different ways of how this night could end; good and bad. Trying to push the bad one’s away, knowing that whatever her head made up wasn’t what he would say, not out loud to anyone she knew, at least.

“What is going on in that pretty little head of yours, that keeps you up all night, love?” His fingers began stroking her hair, combing through the knots that were created from her tossing and turning in the dark. Her mind relaxing when he does that, calming her nerves and realizing that it’s just them two in a world so full of people that were always acting so hectic and stressed, when sometimes it could be so easy.

“Everything,” she answer, her leg laying over his, her foot resting between his own. “Can you tell me something different to think about? Anything. I just don’t want my old thoughts anymore.”

Silence filled the room as he thought of what he hasn’t told me already. “Today in Russian we talked about ‘The Brothers Karamazov’ and we went through our favourite lines in the book. The moment I heard the task, I knew which one I loved the most,” He said.

“What was it?”

“‘You will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again.’” He answers. Quoting the sentence without hesitation, as if he had it read over it so many times that it was burned in his head; sitting in his bed with the light on on the night stand, reading the same sentence, over and over again, getting shivers every time he finishes it and can’t believe what he just read, having to do it again. It’s like a painting engraved in his head, he couldn’t look away from it when he first saw it and now it’s still visible when he close his eyes.

“Why?”

“I believe, that if you come back to life, you need something or someone to do it for; you can’t do it on your own. When I was burning and needed a helping hand to get me out of the fire, you held yours out for me. You didn’t care if you got burned in the process, you just wanted to help me. When I realized that, the quote was since then about you and always will be. I picked it, because it reminds me of you,” He explained, his eyes set on the white ceiling that closed the space, creating something where they could be just two kids, talking about literature and feelings.

She looks up at him, her voice stuck in her throat, before breathing out, “Us.”

“What?” He asks, looking at her as well.

“It should remind you of us; you were also there not just me. It’s about us.”

He smiles down at her, his eyes sparkling with a strange desire of affirmation. It will always be them, no matter who gets between them, until this day, the quote reminds her of them.

“Did you explain it this way too?” she wondered.

“Not exactly.”

“How then?”

“I just said it reminded me of a certain time in my life where I met someone really important to me.”

“I’m really important to you?”

“More than you know.”

The way he said it made her heart stop. Could there ever be a right time for them? From kindergarten until 8 months ago, she never saw him as more than a friend, but after that one night in her room, she couldn’t forget the way his eyes and lips are shaped. Her mind was full with him and he didn’t know. All the little things start to taste bitter sweet, knowing that her mind is too full of skeletons and bones he doesn’t know of, that when he finds them out, he will run down the hill she’s build for him.

“You’re thinking again,” he muttered, tapping her arm to make her come back to reality.

“What’s so bad about me thinking?” she said it, like it wasn’t the reason she was here, with him.

“You don’t sleep when you think.”

“I don’t sleep even when I don’t think,” she shot back.

“You sleep when I’m with you.”

“Must be some superpower of yours then.”

“I’ve got many, love. Don’t underestimate me,” Eli answered, laughing as he began tickling her sides. Making her squirm in his crib and moving away from his reach.

Turning towards the edge of the bed, his fingers still moving over her skin, almost falling out. She could already feel her body hitting the floor, until it didn’t. Two hands holding her waist. Holding her up from hitting the ground.

“Got ya,” Eli mumbled from behind her, making her breath hitch.

Turning around in his crib, she came face to face with the guy she couldn’t stop thinking about having so close. Her breath hitting his face and his fanning over hers. Goosebumps appearing on both their arms, both feeling a shiver run down their spine. Both feeling the magnetic like pull between them. Both feeling their lips pressed together, moving against each other. Hearts exploding in their chests. Hands tangling into the others hair and shirt and skin.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep now,” she said, breathing heavily. Looking him in the eyes, she knew that he was feeling the same. They didn’t have to say a word about it, they knew, because they knew each other.

“Might have to give you a good night kiss then,” he said, smiling widely before leaning down again, connecting their lips once more. This time it was softer, lighter.

They definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

#elijah hewson x reader #eli hewson x reader #elijah hewson #inhaler band #inhaler dublin #elijah hewson fanfic #elijah hewson imagine #eli hewson #elijah hewson x you #eli hewson x fem!reader #eli hewson x you #inhaler fanfic #inhaler imagine #inhaler one shot #inhaler

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midnight-bay-if · 11 months ago

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also an angsty-ish ask if i may (crushing stage)

ROs' reactions/thoughts to overhearing Mc and friend talking, said friend is teasing Mc about them and RO, and Mc blurts out "There's nothing between us!", then, after a brief pause, in the saddest tone they ever heard from Mc, "Besides, RO deserves someone far better than I could ever be..."

S: They think it's ludicrous. How can it be possible you don't recognise how exceptionally wonderful you are? If anyone in this situationship is falling short, it's them. They fall short in a million different ways, but they've put the best foot forward because you're the kind of person who inspires.

Well, they can't let this misconception continue. They would much rather lay the cards out straight and lose than have never taken the risk.

They reveal themselves carefully, leaning against the door frame with a charming smile. "Forgive the intrusion, but I couldn't quite help but overhear..." Still smiling, they close the distance until they are close enough to grasp your hand in theirs, holding it up delicately to their lips as they press a chaste kiss to the palm of your hand. "It would seem I haven't been clear enough in my affections if there is still room to doubt whether there is anything going on between us. I will endeavour to correct this grievous error immediately. Dinner tonight?"

Rain: That last sentence hits Rain like a punch to the gut. It seems incomprehensible to them that you could ever believe you were anything less than perfect to them. But it comes down to this. You do feel that way, and that means Rain hasn't done enough to express everything about you they find so endearing.

This cannot continue.

Rain begins with a plan. Everything they have learned about you thus far is brought into action as they co-ordinate the perfect date. Do you have a favourite flower? Great, have a bouquet of them. Do you have a favourite meal? S will help Rain cook it. Or if you have a favourite spot, great, expect a romantic walk to it. Enjoy poetry? Well, Rain is awful at writing it, but they would give it a go for you.

They'll figure out a million ways to show you their feelings if that's what it takes.

Taj: Taj's ear twitches when they overhear that final sentence. They feel the underbelly of frustration beginning to bubble under the surface. How is it fair you get to decide on your own who is good enough for who? And what made you decide that?

Wait... is this their fault? Could their sharp edges have been catching after all? You never showed it on your face. Sometimes, Taj would even dig deeper with their cutting tongue simply to see you flinch. But you never did. Had you been bleeding this entire time?

Taj inhales sharply, digging their nails deep into their palms in a clenched fist. If they were braver, they would storm right into that room and tear up those self-flagellating thoughts of yours. But they aren't. They never have been.

N: It feels strange to N, to hear the words they have already long suspected to be true. Not the part about 'nothing going on between us' since they know that much is rubbish, but the latter part... Well, the lack of belief in oneself can manifest in all kinds of ways but sits so readily in a person's body language.

It is true N is a demon prince of Hael. Before their power was so egregiously ripped from them, they were a prized jewel often paraded amongst important individuals like a prized buck for breeding. Everyone wanted a piece, and they languished in the attention.

Yet, powerless and bruised, you coveted their attention still. The lack of power did not matter to you. Back home, N would be ridiculed for seeking affection from a mere human. But, inexplicably, they do seek it. It is them who are underserving of you.

Better they remember why they came here in the first place.

Umbra: They cannot abide this. They flinched when you said nothing was going on between the two of you. For a moment, Umbra was sure someone had slipped the sharp edge of a blade right between their ribs. It hurt.

Then, you continued, and the blade twisted. It doesn't compute. Theirs are hands that have wrought destruction and death, but it is you who thinks they are not enough? This has to be their failure. If they were more human, more alive, then they would know exactly how to assuage your concerns, to prove their devotion to you.

It isn't enough to be by your side anymore. They would rather fall at your feet begging for mercy as you dig your heel in than have you believe that you aren't enough.

(Phew, hope this is okay! Sorry, it took a minute.)

#ask answer #taj #nazu raumon #simon selby #umbra knight #naera raumon #rain #simone selby #interactive fiction

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dykealloy · 2 years ago

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spoilers up to the end of dressrosa arc here but. I can't stop thinking about how Law takes on Rosinante's will. Corasan freed him from Doflamingo and the marines and the world government and everyone that ever could have touched him at the time, but has Law really felt free? “Everything I do until I die represents what Corasan achieved” is sweet until you recognise that Law is willing (and planned) to go to the grave for that belief. Until Doflamingo dies there is always a part of him stuck in that treasure chest, constrained by what Law felt happened to Corasan due to him that day.

It's crazy how textbook survivors guilt victim Law is (I’m new here so I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t the first time this has been brought up), but let’s just quickly go over some symptoms:

Obsessive thoughts about the traumatic event ✅ (will go over this in greater detail below)

A sense of disconnection or detachment/need to isolate oneself from others ✅ (Law doesn't fully isolate himself but he definitely has his walls up at all times, though there are often subtle hints of him enjoying the company of the people he chooses to surround himself with. He is notably more reserved, emotionally unavailable, cold and distant than others around him, and watching closely you'll notice that even physically he has a tendency to situate himself three steps behind the group)

Insomnia, nightmares, flashbacks of the traumatic event ✅ (if we can assume some of his backstory expressed in Dressrosa are flashbacks, and also assuming that the perpetual eyeliner he wears are covering some pretty heavy eyebags. Also mention that the only time we see him resting is against Sunny's mast on the way to Dressrosa - and that was 1. a filler episode, and 2. if he was sleeping, it was very quickly interrupted by an attack by petplay guy - a nightmare in of itself)

Irritability and anger ✅ (though elements of this could just be attributed to Law's personality or a natural response to the straw hat's shenanigans, as well as Luffy's total inability to stick to a reasonable plan)

Feelings of despair and thoughts of suicide ✅ (that's Law's Dressrosa arc babe)

Now, there's many reasons why Law is unable to move past this guilt (an apparent lack of therapists in one piece being one of them) - but his inability to believe in unconditional love is likely the biggest offender.

Law may have started off (initially) with one of the most fortunate, stable beginnings, with a loving family and a big house in a rich country (wealth of which was built off the back of lies and corruption and the murder of innocent future generations - we'll get there). But he had a mother and a father who loved and nurtured Law (and were both highly respected doctors in their own right who citizens trusted and relied on). Law's happy beginnings really juxtapose the unfathomable horror that had been lying in wait in Flevance.

Even when shit started to hit the fan, at a very young age (<10 yrs old), Law was already stepping up and showing love for his little sister (lying to her when she was on her deathbed, knowing full well he would likely face the same fate after reading his charts, putting on a brave face for her so she wouldn't be afraid when the screams began to reach their front door, hiding her away when soldiers sieged their home and rushing to check on his parents). Given everything that happened in Flevance, it's completely understandable that, while Law will likely never forget the love his family gave him, remembering it became twisted in the lasting memories of his home — parents riddled with bullet holes. a closet holding a sick little sister waiting for him in a house engulfed by flames. stumbling through a town of friends, neighbours, just... people he used to pass by on the street, now all dead.

Seeing hell, knowing why and how it transpired, who were responsible (spoilers, the World Government; the same body that most citizens believe exist to protect them — yeah, sister "a merciful hand of salvation waiting to help" were perhaps the worst possible combination of words you could have left Law with here. Likely instrumental in having him lose his faith "I don't believe in anything anymore."), knowing he is the only survivor, and fated to die anyway due to the terminal illness that is slowly killing him because some figureheads years back were greedy and the governing powers above the figureheads were willing to cover up everything if it meant garnering a portion of wealth and maintaining influence and control. It's beyond grief, beyond rage. And there's absolutely nowhere Law can put it. No one he can retaliate against. Who could come out of hell knowing this and not want to see the world burn?

So, smart little Law escapes under a pile of bodies and goes to the one person infamously revered for being in the business of that kind of thing. And boy oh boy I can only begin to imagine how a young and impressionable Law - fresh from a genocide, with a hole in his heart and a hatred for everything still alive - had his concept of love warped whilst surviving those two years around Doflamingo and his family. A family where members are only welcome so far as they are useful to Doflamingo and his aspirations. Of course Law's going to pick up some fucked up ideas about how love works outside this little white fence he grew up and watched burn down.

Then. Enter Corazon.

Their relationship may begin on shaky legs (near-juvenicide via defenestration in a failed attempt to ward Law away from sticking around) but Corazon quickly becomes the one person in the world Law can trust and rely on again. And Rosinante can only do so much in terms of healing and guiding this broken kid (yes, his position both as Doffy's brother and as a double agent made things difficult, but need I mention he was only 26! 26 when he died!) but he showed Law kindness and compassion when he was at his lowest. He had faith in the existence of a cure that Law was long past believing. Was determined to help him, even against Law's wishes, even if it meant having Law relive his trauma over and over again. Corasan becomes incredibly important to Law, giving him a reason to live beyond just destruction and revenge.

After the rest of the world had long turned his back on him, when he had been nothing but a dying puddle of rage and self-destructive nihilism, Corasan saved Law. He told Law "Aishiteru" - a very rare way of saying "I love you", never used casually due to the depth of its meaning and the massive connotations behind it - in essence translating to "I love you so much I cannot possibly imagine life without you". There's a high likelihood that at his age, Law had never heard these words before, and probably didn't quite understand the weight of Rosinante saying it at the time.

Corasan frees Law, then he dies at the hand of Doflamingo, Rosinante's own brother.

All Rosinante wanted was for this poor kid to go on and live his life unburdened by his more than turbulent history and his connection to Doffy, but I think for all his planning, Rosinante's one critical error was well and truly underestimating how much him loving Law, and loving Law to the extent he did, would mean to that kid. Law really went from that ten year old hollow void sentiment of "why does anyone or anything at all get to exist when everything that was important to me is dead, burned to ashes and wiped off the map" to "I should have died at age thirteen and every second I've lived since then, I've only lived as a result of Corasan's efforts and as a personal affront to Doflamingo." This time, Law has a tangible, heinous 10 foot monster of a target to direct 1. his grief and anger and 2. justice for Cora towards, and this time he has the power and will to follow through. More than that, he believes Corasan sacrificed himself for him because he's a D. (someone destined to rain down destruction on the gods - Doflamingo, in this case). Corazon becomes a saint that Law dedicates the rest of his life to. Which is something that Law is not vocal about to just anyone he comes across, but is so unbelievably obvious once you know what you're looking at — his tattoos, his jolly roger, his crew, his ship, his ambitions, his beliefs, his fucking. custom-made Corazon jacket. all of it for this man that showed Law - at a time when he hated the world and everything in it - love. For all of six months. max.

And his whole life and personality and behaviour CONTINUES to be guided by this trauma — the way he's reckless with himself, his borderline self-destructive actions, the way he keeps telling himself that none of it would've been worth it unless Corasan's last wishes are fulfilled, the way he surrounds himself with bright people and soft things, the way it doesn't register that his crew genuinely loves and cares about him, the way he's terrified of losing anyone important to him again (and I would say this is one of his biggest downfalls as a Captain compared to someone like Luffy - who is just as reckless as Law is but trusts his crew, doesn't try to send them away, isn't afraid to let them grow and risk their lives for him like Law is with the heart crew), his inability to take a damn compliment. The way he doesn't understand Luffy AT ALL.

Doesn't understand that this alliance that he's brokered means nothing to Luffy because he sees him as FRIEND. No transactions or mutually beneficial pacts necessary. Doesn't get that he's the one that inadvertently asked Luffy to be his friend, thus breaking a long chain of people (mostly parental figures and siblings) abandoning or leaving Luffy behind/no one taking the first initiative to ask to be around him. Law is complete and utterly in the dark as to why someone would ever bat for him when the stakes are this high for no other reason than because they like them and care about them as a person.

Luffy, with his playground rules where he loves unconditionally and will take on the world for a friend he made five minutes ago, perplexes Law with his sheer simplicity.

When Sengoku tells Law, "Don't try to find a reason for someone's love", I do NOT think he takes it well. Because there must be a reason. There has to be. Between the two options of Corasan saving Law's life and freeing him because he believed in the will of D., or Rosinante saving him for no other reason than because Law was a kid that was loveable, and because he loved him unconditionally... everything we've learned about how Law functions up until this point suggests the former will always make more sense to him, and after everything he's been through, is most likely less painful for him to accept.

#LONG POST #in this essay i will... oh no. this was a spiral i was not ready to go down.#I'm not doing okay btw #one piece meta #these were originally 2am tags but upon reflection i thought it should probably be its own post #CJ's op watch-through #one piece #op #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #corazon #corasan #donquixote rosinante #monkey d. luffy #lawlu #dressrosa spoilers #op meta #op analysis

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graveyardcuddles · 1 year ago

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I'm thinking about Astarion again and how actually amazing it is that he managed to hold onto as much of himself as he did after having had everything about his identity and sense of self systematically stripped away from him. And how it's even more incredible he managed to do so without even getting to look at himself at all in all that time.

We know his trauma cut him off from his ability to trance and therefore his ability to recall memories from before he was turned. What must it be like to have nothing? Not even happy memories to look back on? A spawn. A dead thing to be used as his master sees fit. Tortured by Cazador and Godey. Starved to the point of constant hunger pain. Forced to use his body and sexuality to seduce people who sometimes not only disgusted him but who would sometimes even hurt him...AND through all of this, this whole nightmare, he can't even see his own face. Even his own perception of himself is stolen from him.

I've gone through some horribly low points in life. Points where I've felt like I was literally losing my mind or about to end it all. And sometimes in those moments, I just had to stare at myself in the mirror, look myself in the eye and literally talk myself down. There have been times where my mental state was so bad and my perception of reality so warped I HAD to look at my own reflection in the mirror to remind myself I was still real.

Astarion remembers so little of his face that he can't remember if he ever had a mole on his cheek or not. He can't remember the color of his own EYES. For as much as fans talk about the angst of him not being able to remember his own eyes I don't know if any of us could even imagine forgetting oneself so completely that such a defining physical characteristic is lost to memory. It's difficult to imagine as beings with limited lifespans. And imagine the added torment of being forced to use your looks to survive all while never being able to actually see yourself. (This is why I can't help but feel a bit annoyed when people say things like "Well it's a GOOD thing he can't see himself, can you imagine how annoying he would be?" Like sorry you find 'petty vanity' annoying, it still doesn't mean he deserved to have his sense of self-perception stripped away).

So much of him was killed in the process over those two hundred years of abuse and neglect in order to survive. I think it's fair to say Astarion likely wasn't a saint before he was turned by Cazador but we do know at one point there WAS a kind, sympathetic part of himself that took pity on that young man he spared. A part that I'm sure had to be killed in order for Astarion to survive and remain sane. And in ALL that time there was never once any moment where he could look at himself in the mirror and tell himself that he was still himself.

He lost everything, even the memory of his own eye color. But he wouldn't allow himself to be lost completely. He still talked back. Still screamed the loudest when tortured. Still held onto his anger, his rage his burning desire for revenge. And when he gets the opportunity to take his freedom he fucking LEAPS for it. He is so bound and determined to STAY free once he is free he would literally rather die than go back to Cazador. He's a survivor above all else and I love him so much.

#bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion meta

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ausp-ice · 24 days ago

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Ipsivivere (Ipsi), they/she/he, Edeia of Ipsivival: the process or result of rediscovering life and being saved from oneself, whether alone or with the help of others.

Edeia Site | Edeia Discord | Personal Website

Warnings: Ipsi's character deals in topics of suicide, depression, and other aspects of mental health. Their story also involves human trafficking, abuse, and sexual assault/abuse.

Ipsivivere

"I am Ipsivivere, Edeia of Ipsivival. You can call me Ipsi if you want. My Idea entails the process of someone being saved from themself, whether on their own or with help — of overcoming what might seem to be an indomitable depression or self-destruction and coming to appreciate their existence. Still, it can be hard for those in the most terrible places to overcome their personal hells, so I do what I can to help them. I do not always succeed… but for those who I can see ipsivive, it is worth it. After all, I, too, was once in that place."

Ipsi is a deeply emotional and empathetic individual. They have a great amount of love and affection to share with others, though it can take time for them to develop deep personal attachments. Their kindness and wish to soothe others' hurts will often act as the transitioning elements for the deep bonds they (and their Eidolons) form with others.

They are deeply moved to see others ipsivive, and they mourn and shed tears for those who could not escape their self-destruction. Ipsi can exhaust themself by giving so much of themself to others, leading to them spending long spans of time napping or otherwise resting in their main body. They also attend "therapy" sessions with Edeia such as Mu and Pacific, who help them process their experiences.

Ipsi's Eidolons share Ipsi's core personality, though some may diverge over time.

Ipsivivere's Eidolons

Ipsi is able to make fragments of themself, which are referred to as their Eidolons, with the intention of helping others ipsivive. The Eidolons begin as shimmering specks of dust shed from Ipsi's wings as they wander. These specks are drawn to those who are in terrible, depressive, self-destructive states; the specks resonate with those individuals and take a form crafted for the sake of helping these individuals. The Eidolons could appear to be humans, animals, other species, imaginary friends — whatever Ipsi's instinct deems is most suitable. Their bodies may seem biological and can grow and be injured, but they are functionally immortal — they will not die of age, and they can heal from all injuries with time. Most of Ipsi's Eidolons exist at the same time as them, though there are occasions where the specks are drawn to someone in the past and manage to slip through time to form an Eidolon in the past. Those who Ipsi's Eidolons are crafted for can be referred to as Ipsi's ipsivivors.

Ipsi's Eidolons operate mostly independently, with varying levels of connection to Ipsi's main body and their other Eidolons. They only gain awareness after taking form, and many do not quite remember that they originate from Ipsi. For the Eidolons that do not remember their origin, the longer they exist, the more their awareness blends with the whole of Ipsi, allowing them to share subconscious memories — that is, they might not be aware of what the other Eidolons and main body are doing, but if they think about it, they can "recall" what the others are doing. The consciousnesses of Ipsi's Eidolons are in general very much distant and easy for Ipsi to ignore, but Ipsi can focus on particular Eidolons to access their memories and experiences.

The goal of the Eidolons is usually to get the ipsivivor to be able to stand on their own, though they do not always succeed. Sometimes, despite the efforts of Ipsi and their Eidolons, their ipsivivor becomes dependent on them, can't bear to let them go, or can never fully heal and overcome themself. In these cases, Ipsi's Eidolon will stay beside them and try to support them so they can be high-functioning together, if not apart.

Usually, once the ipsivivor has been able to ipsivive and live for themself, the Eidolon will become fully connected to the whole existence of Ipsi. Some Eidolons who have developed their own rich lives may try to deny the connection; they would not be able to deny it entirely, but they can choose to live fairly independently from Ispi. The Eidolon will usually try to explain the situation to their ipsivivor and offer to stay longer if needed, but if the ipsivivor is truly ready to let go of the Eidolon, then the Eidolon will return to Ipsi and integrate into Ipsi's subconscious memory.

If the Eidolon fails to help their ipsivivor, then the Eidolon is generally very distraught. They might linger for a while, but they eventually fade and return to Ipsi as a subconscious memory. Sometimes, Ipsi takes time to go through them and mourn those they couldn't help ipsivive.

Other Abilities

Resilience

Ipsi can improve the mental resilience of others, bolstering their will to keep moving forward, to work towards improving themselves and their circumstances, to not give up. Those affected by this ability will have improved mental stability and tolerance towards difficulties in their life, and see a reduction in negative and maladaptive thoughts. Ipsi can focus the ability at a high intensity, but the effect would only be temporary. Their Eidolons exude a weak aura of this effect that allows for gradual but lasting improvements in the subject's resilience alongside their personal self-improvement.

Weaving Wounds

Ipsi can heal others' physical wounds and soothe their mental and emotional pains.

Their Eidolons have a much weaker form of this power; they can induce minor healing or transfer injuries to themselves. Though it can be painful, the Eidolons will heal from any injury with time.

Life Link

This ability is generally only used by Ipsi's Eidolons. An Eidolon can establish a life link to their ipsivivor. This causes the Eidolon and the ipsivivor to share all pain and injuries, and it makes them both functionally immortal — no matter how severe the injury, both the Eidolon and the ipsivivor will heal with enough time.

Not all Eidolons form a life link with their ipsivivors. Some do so as a mark of closeness, while others do so out of worry, wanting to monitor their ipsivivor's health and keep them from death. The link can be rejected by the ipsivivor if they learn how to feel the metaphysical nature of the bond, which can take some practice.

Gaze into the Abyss

Ipsi (and to a weaker extent, their Eidolons) can sense the hardships of others. They can understand the pain others experience and gather at least a vague sense of the nature of their struggles. They are most aware of active pains, with those who are currently struggling greatly being quite prominent in their senses, but they can also focus on individuals and gain a sense of what struggles they've had in the past, whether they were buried or overcome.

Abstraction

Ipsi's Abstraction consists of a temple made of marble with subtle gold veins, with light like sunlight pouring from past the pillars. There is a central hallway with a ceiling open to a light blue sky with gold celestial patterns—circles, lines, and arcs. A staircase leads to a gazebo-like room with cascading silk ribbons surrounding a pool that reflects the celestial firmament above, where Ipsi might stay to hibernate for longer periods of time in a cocoon-like form. When Ipsi is not resting in the pool, gazing into it can reveal glimpses of the perspectives of Ipsi's Eidolons.

When one approaches the sides of the central hallway, the sunny light becomes less intense to reveal a portal like a surface of water. These portals lead to various locations, including a grassy meadow, an underwater reef, an endless mirror lake, and more.

Ipsi welcomes visitors to their Abstraction, but only by invitation—they prefer not to have unexpected visits. Some Eidolon-ipsivivor pairs also live within Ipsi's Abstraction, though not many.

Story

As a reminder, Ipsi's story involves themes of human trafficking, suicide, depression, abuse, and sexual assault/abuse.

Synopsis

Ipsi, born as Ilya in 1998, manifested magic at age 10 during a time when magic was becoming more than just a rumor but not confirmed by any authorities. Their parents often argued, though they didn't understand what they were arguing about; after their parents discovered their magic, Ilya was betrayed and sold to a human trafficking ring specializing in magical individuals. Purchased by a wealthy corporation owner, Ilya was soon given to the owner's son, Verin, after the owner lost interest. The two escaped together in 2018, starting a new life in a changing world. However, their relationship became abusive, with Verin growing controlling and forceful. Ilya's mental health deteriorated and they became more isolated, leading to several suicide attempts.

After Verin's accidental death in 2025, Eien, Edeia of the Lost, took the deeply depressed Ilya to a Sanctuary for the Lost. There, Ilya slowly began to heal by helping others. They developed the ability to manifest in others' dreams and assist those struggling with self-destruction. By 2031, Ilya had recovered enough to return to society, continuing their education and refining their purpose. Upon meeting someone they had helped in a dream, Ilya realized their true calling was to aid others in self-revival and healing, Actualizing into Ipsivivere, Edeia of Ipsivival.

Full Story

Part 1: Taken 1998-2018

Ipsi was a human known as Ilya born in 1998, growing up with the transition from the Age of Secrecy to the Age of Reunion. Their home life was fairly normal, as far as they knew—though they were vaguely aware that their financial situation wasn't ideal and their parents would often be in conflict. Ilya would often hide to wait for the metaphorical storm to pass. However, things changed when they manifested magic when they were ten years old. Though they didn't quite understand what was happening, they felt a sense of safety from their magic; things were better for some time until their parents discovered their magic.

Ilya's parents were surprised at the discovery, though after exchanging a look with each other, were quick to assure Ilya that there was some discussion going on about how magic actually exists in this world—there were various sightings and rumors, far too many to be a coincidence these days. Still, they told Ilya to try to keep it hidden in public while they asked details about what they could do.

After the discovery, Ilya's parents didn't argue for a while, though they were often found discussing things together. After several months, however, there was an explosive argument that had Ilya hiding away again. Once it had quieted down, Ilya's mother came to hug and soothe Ilya, apologizing that they were like this.

The next day, Ilya woke up with a terrible grogginess in an unfamiliar place. They later discovered that their parents had sold them. They were in the hands of a relatively new human trafficking ring that formed after its members confirmed the existence of magical individuals. Their methods were rather messy and they did not fully understand the nature of magic, but they did understand that some of the exorbitantly wealthy would be willing to pay exorbitant sums of money to have a piece of magic for themselves.

The ring would collapse before long, due to their ignorance of magic and Edeiology—even before the authorities got to them. Still, it lasted long enough to sell Ilya to some filthy rich owner of a corporation.

Ilya's abilities were weak and not very dramatic, and their "owner" quickly grew bored of them, though they would still torment them psychologically and physically every now and then. Instead, they told Ilya to be the plaything of their son Verin, who was only a few years older than Ilya. Verin was quite nice to Ilya, treating them as a human being… though still one of much lower status than him. The two spent great amounts of time together, and Ilya found comfort in his presence despite the circumstances. Verin, too, grew greatly attached to Ilya. As they grew older, Verin understood that Ilya's situation was truly horrible and asked if Ilya wanted to run away with him. Ilya was unsure at first, but eventually agreed.

Part 2: Limerence 2018-2025

Verin thus rebelled from his family, taking Ilya and whatever he could to escape to one of the cities at the heart of the transition to the Age of Reunion. With everything in flux, it was easy for them to join the chaos. Verin and Ilya were able to acquire some affordable housing, resources for living, and access to jobs and schooling. Verin took on various jobs to help with the transition efforts while Ilya attended school, though they faced difficulties due to being much older than their academic peers.

Their life seemed to be going as well as it could be, though things began to shift as they became proper adults. Verin professed his love for Ilya and took them to bed; the whole experience was confusing and painful for Ilya, but Verin was the one who was warm to them amidst the worst cold—he had left behind his family and privilege for their sake, and they didn't know how they could refuse him. Years passed, with Verin becoming more insistent, more forceful, more entitled. He faced his own struggles adjusting to a life different from that of the upper crust, and he often took out his frustration on Ilya before apologizing and soothing them.

When Ilya tried to resist him and suggested that things might be better if they went their separate ways, Verin became much worse. He took them to bed even when they were unwilling, making them exhausted and in pain almost every day. Ilya's younger peers didn't quite understand what was wrong, and though their instructors expressed some concerns, Ilya was reluctant to confide in them due to their experiences with authority figures.

Eventually, Ilya became so exhausted that they couldn't muster the energy to leave. Verin suggested that they change to taking courses online, and, resigned, Ilya agreed. Things only grew worse from there, now that Ilya was isolated from others. They became entrenched in a depression that had been growing in them for a long time; their online courses were neglected in favor of sleeping their days away.

Something shifted one day, and Ilya reached a breaking point. They swallowed all the medications in their home and slit their wrists, trying to end their life—only to fail when Verin returned home to find them and send them to the hospital. When Ilya recovered, Verin expressed immense regret. He tried to comfort them and told them that he would do better. However, everything was meaningless at that point—Ilya couldn't feel any more of that attempted comfort. They just felt hollow.

Ilya made a few more half-hearted attempts, but Verin started hiding all the dangerous items and kept them from leaving alone. Ilya was confined in a soft prison of their home. Ilya lived as a shell of themself like that for some time. Then, at one point, Verin disappeared. Several days passed, and then Ilya received a call—Verin had passed away, caught up in some accident. Ilya didn't know what they felt, then. Sadness? Relief? Maybe it was just a hollow exhaustion, after seven years of their cohabitation. They ended up curled in bed for days, drifting in and out of consciousness, not eating anything.

Part 3: Sanctuary of the Lost 2025-2034

Then, Eien appeared. He arrived in Ilya's untidy home, sensing that they were lost. He offered to take them away to a place where the lost could heal in peace—a Sanctuary that overlapped with his domain. However, Ilya was not particularly responsive. They simply stared at him, and did not agree or disagree. Eien felt sorrow for Ilya and lifted them into his arms, enveloping them in a comforting presence. It was a strange feeling, for Ilya had not truly felt comfort for a long time.

Ilya fell asleep like that, waking up in the Sanctuary with Eien by their side, patiently waiting for them to awaken. He explained more about the Sanctuary and himself; he had brought Ilya to a Sanctuary for the Lost, where those lost to themselves could recover, or perhaps to find themselves along the way. Other people and Edeia might come by for company as well. Ilya simply listened without saying anything.

Eien lingered for longer before letting Ilya know that he would be leaving. Then, Ilya was alone. They spent several months wandering and familiarizing themself with the space, observing the settlements where people lived from afar. They were never cold and never hungry, and they could not hurt themself if they tried. It was peaceful, but Ilya still felt lost and empty, and still slept the days away. Perhaps it was another sort of cage.

Then, Ilya saw the arrival of another lost individual—a fairly young one. They watched for a while before deciding to approach, offering a little information and assistance. Unexpectedly, that child grew attached to them. Ilya was reluctant to be relied on and tried to distance themself, though around that time Eien came to visit and the two spoke. Eien seemed pleased that they were doing better, and suggested that sometimes those who are lost are the ones who can help each other be found. Ilya thought about it for some time, and decided that they wanted to be gentle, at least, in this world of terrible things.

Over time, they saw with their own eyes that child slowly learning to live again. They found themself struck with a strange emotion at seeing them heal. How wonderful, that someone can rise from the depths of their own personal hells and embrace the world. The mere thought brought Ilya to tears.

Something shifted in Ilya, then. From then on, Ilya began to dream in the long naps they would take. Though they did not know it, they were entering the dreams of those caught in their own cycles of self-destruction, offering what little guidance, reassurance, or whatever they could give in those dreams. More often than not, they woke with tears in their eyes, and only hazy recollections of what occurred. There were times they would cry for hours, mourning the loss of someone they couldn't quite remember, and yet... there was something cathartic about it all.

Over time, the dreams became more vivid, and Ilya began remembering them more clearly in their waking hours. They became aware that they were not just sharing dreams with others, but sometimes even manifesting as ghostly forms accompanying other individuals. They felt a bit worried about their power, and awkwardly approached Thaene, who was visiting at the time. Thaene helped talk through their experiences and offered advice about their powers; he even offered to monitor them for some time. They grew closer as Ilya accepted Thaene's comforting gestures after some more difficult situations.

Ilya soon realized that they were, in fact, doing better. By helping others save themselves, they, too, were saved in some ways. They spent more time awake and were willing—eager, even, sometimes—to interact with others. The next time Eien came by, they told him that they wanted to return to society. Some of the people in the Sanctuary helped Ilya with the process of moving and acclimating to life in reunited society; it was in the 2031 by then, and much had changed.

Ilya still had their share of struggles, but was able to live independently and do fairly well in society while continuing to help others in their dreams. They continued their education, attending Ideation Academy to finally complete their basic education and learn various other skills and languages. During this time, they mused over their Idea, contemplating making a new word for it. Though they did not settle on ipsivival yet, it was an option they were considering.

One day, they encountered someone that they'd only met in a dream so far. The two talk, with that person thanking Ilya for offering the hand they needed to pull themself out of their own abyss. Ilya was struck by a tangle of emotions, then. Joy, satisfaction, realization. This is what they wanted the meaning of their existence to be: the process of self-revival, of healing from terrible places within one's self, over overcoming a pain so profound that it becomes self-inflicted.

At that moment, they became Ipsivivere, Edeia of Ipsivival.

Part 4: Ipsivival 2038-present

After their Actualization, Ipsi retained most of their memories. Despite the pain of their past, they felt that it was an important part of who they had become. They spent some time familiarizing themself with their new, more powerful abilities. Though they had Actualized, they did not want to abandon those they were helping in their dreams before; they soon manifested the ability to create Eidolons, and they created one for each of those they were helping before. They realized, too, that as an Edeia, their power was much more vast than before. There was so much more they could do, so many people they could try to help, whether they succeed or not. From then on, they began wandering the world, scattering flecks of their power that could become Eidolons in time.

It was not all easy, but it was worth it. Ipsi expressed their existence as Ipsivival to the fullest.

#creature #my species #original species #art #my art #procreate #edeia #spirit #ideation #character profile

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shiny-holographic-star · 1 year ago

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SYNASTRY: Chiron

Note: Chiron can act from a place of hurt or healing depending on how much the person has worked on healing their own wounds.

Chiron conjunct Moon: This could mean that the Chiron person wants to help heal the moon person, they might share similar emotional wounds.

Chiron sextile Moon: I have this with my little nephew! The Chiron person can learn from the Moon person about their own emotional side, and maybe about their relationship with motherhood or how to nurture oneself and others. The Chiron person might heal themselves by mothering the Moon person.

Chiron square Sun: The chiron person might feel hurt for not getting the attention and validation of the sun person. It might stir up self-esteem issues from the past. The sun person might act self-centered, and the Chiron person might internalize their own insecurities about it.

Chiron square Mercury: The mercury person might struggle / avoid communicating with the Chiron person, which can hurt them. I had this with an ex who replied to my texts after hours or longer.

Also, the Mercury person might act rationally, from their mind, and the Chiron person might feel they're too cold and can't comprehend or don't care about their emotions.

Chiron square Fama might mean the Chiron person doesn't want to hear about the Fama person at all. They resist hearing or talking about them because they don't want to get in touch with past hurts.

It also could be that the Chiron person remembers the Fama person as the bad ex or the one that got away, something that hurts them or it did at some point. For example, if the Fama person was a crush that got away, when you think about them you might feel like you're not enough; it touches sensitive spots.

Chiron inconjunct Saturn: I have this aspect (applying) with a friend, and he doesn't share some beliefs with me, and sometimes when I talk about it with other people he talks down about it. It feels like being censored or limited (Saturn) which can bring to the surface wounds related to powerlessness (created by authority figures of your life).

I have the same aspect (separating) with my cousin, and I think the disciplined / hard work of Saturn shows up more. When I see how resilient and committed she is, I feel a bit jealous and called out, because I know I need to make adjustments in my own life in order to make Saturn justice. Those adjustments are related to issues with perfectionism, procrastination, discipline and consistency.

Chiron semi-square Venus: The Venus person might show affection to the Chiron person, but this one might reject it out of habit which can come from past wounds. The Chiron person might brush off shows of affection from the Venus person which could annoy them. This could cause very light friction.

Chiron trine Mars: if Chiron is a woman and Mars a man, the former might see in the Mars person characteristics or behaviors of previous men who have hurt her. For example, my ex was very emotionally dry like my father which sometimes triggered past wounds. But I think that the trine made it flow naturally, like I would just accept it.

Art from the manga Boku no Hero Academia by Horikoshi.

#astrology #astro placements #astro community #astro posts #astrology observations #aesthetic #synastry #chiron #anime #psychology

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sparrowrye · 8 months ago

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Archivist's Oath -- Master List

In a world ravaged by natural disasters and societal collapse, a devoted Archivist safeguards the ancient texts of her ancestors, determined to keep them out of dangerous hands. With a vision to reshape Humanity's future bigger and better than before, the Radio Demon is eager to unlock the secrets within her books. But there's one catch: he can't read them.

What begins as a battle of wills turns into something far more dangerous and complex, as Alastor demands translations which she fiercely refuses. As an even greater threat emerges, an unexpected attraction ignites, blurring the lines between captive and captor.

In a world where survival demands sacrifice, she must decide whether to trust the demon who holds her fate or destroy the very man she's sworn to erase from history.

Updated every Wednesday @ 9:00am EST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: stop the bleeding

Chapter 2: familiar and friendly

Chapter 3: bittersweet

Chapter 4: broadcast of betrayal

Chapter 5: unwilling savior

Chapter 6: a gold, comfy cage

Chapter 7: a sweet rose

Chapter 8: defiance

Chapter 9: losing patience

Chapter 10: deep down

Chapter 11: lightning in a bottle

Chapter 12: deep, dark, and desirable

Chapter 13: the option to choose

Chapter 14: better left buried

Chapter 15: asking permission

Chapter 16: feeling at home

Chapter 17: rebuilding oneself

Chapter 18: making changes

Chapter 19: boredom isn’t terrible

Chapter 20: results

Chapter 21: better than I remember

Chapter 22: stop asking for permission

Chapter 23: one in the same

Chapter 24: a new way of thinking

Chapter 25: a damn tree

Chapter 26: a kiss good luck

Chapter 27: delusional from the pain

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOT my artwork. Full credit to the artist

#archivists oath #demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel

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smusherina · 1 year ago

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yard work - chapter 6 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): 2004 was not a good time for the gays. homophobia persists. insecurity about weight and insulting oneself about it.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 7

You dipped into your savings and got Regina a new, fancy moisturizer. You couldn't count on her using it instead of the lard, but well. Guide a horse to water, can't make it drink, and all that.

You didn't tell her about the Homecoming prank, though. She'd been pissed about that. Not for long, because then it turned into a sort of trend at Northshore and it only boosted her popularity.

You were perhaps more upset about it. Upset you'd let it happen, upset they'd done it in the first place, upset Regina stood there with Aaron. He didn't even look like he wanted to be there.

Regina managing to turn it around for her benefit didn't stop you from feeling bad. It was the principle of the thing. You'd taken some distance from her. Everybody, actually. People just didn't feel all that great to be around. You were betraying Regina by letting her be essentially bullied by Janis, you were tolerating Regina's abusive reign over the student body, Aaron was getting on your last nerve by simply existing, and your mom's death anniversary was coming up.

You went to the Georges' less. Regina came to yours when you didn't lie about having to catch up on homework or doing a project. You did do some yard work for them since you still needed the extra cash. Just basic things like raking leaves and doing small repairs here and there. You also covered the pool with Mrs George's help.

"Whew, I forget what a chore that is every year!" She wiped at her forehead. You laid on the grass, chest heaving. You'd carried maybe seventy per cent of that thing.

"You said it, Mrs George." You managed to get out.

"How many years have I been telling you to call me Jude. Or just mom." You looked up at her. She looked so much like Regina. Or Regina looked so much like her.

She'd known your mom. Cried harder at her funeral than your dad or even yourself. You hadn't really gotten it, at that point. She'd hugged you tight and told you what an amazing woman she was, that she hadn't deserved to go yet. She sent you food for weeks after, which you appreciated because dad was too busy sorting stuff out to cook for you.

She'd been more of a mom to you than your own had ever gotten to be. Still, it felt wrong to call her anything other than Mrs George. It was weird. Word association gone all wrong. Mom meant a casket being lowered into a hole on a bleak November day, an echoing house and an empty kitchen, sad and wistful things. Mrs George meant afternoons spent running around in the backyard, eating 'till your belly was full to bursting, happiness and summer.

"Many, many years." You groaned as you got up. "Is Reggie home?"

You figured it would be weird if you didn't go say hi, at least. You didn't want to cut her out entirely. It was just hard being around her when the weight of your own actions, and inactions, weighed on your shoulders.

She smiled in a way that told you she'd noticed your deflection. "In her room."

"Great. Oh, by the way, what did you do with the apples this year?"

"I convinced Rick to donate them to the women's shelter downtown. They'll be put to good use there."

"That's awesome," You put your hands to your hips and looked around. "Anything you want me to do?"

"I'll just hose down the rose bushes, you head on inside. Avoid the living room, Rick's on a conference call." She waved you off with a smile.

You trod through the house carefully, shoes in hand. You knew the Georges were a shoes-on household, but it just never felt right for you to walk on carpeted floors with your shoes on. What if you had stepped on dogshit? What then?

"Reg?" Her door was open a crack, so you peeked in. "You decent?"

"Yes, I'm decent." You could hear the eye roll in her voice. "What do you want?"

Yikes. She wasn't happy.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. She was on her bed, reading a book on her belly. She was snacking on some candy bar.

"I just came to say hi. I put the pool cover on with your mom." You walked up to her. "What're you reading?"

"I could hear you huffing and puffing all the way up here." She turned on her side to look at you. "The Catcher in the Rye. It's boring."

"I dunno, I liked it." You climbed in hesitantly. When she didn't protest, you settled down on your side facing her, head leaned against your palm.

"You've read it?" She tossed the book on the floor next to the bed, now giving you her full attention. "Can you write my paper?"

"Depends on how much you'll pay me." You grinned and rubbed your fingers together like you were handling cash.

"Boo, you whore." She pouted. "Aren't we supposed to be beyond that?"

"I don't do charity, my friend." You flopped onto your back and crossed your arms. Shit, she had a comfy bed. So soft but just firm enough, too. You let your eyes close. You were so tired from all that physical labour.

"Get off my bed, you traitor." You opened your eyes too late. She was already on you, pushing you, and you had no time to resist until you were toppling onto the floor. You clambered down in a mess of limbs and sheets, which you'd grabbed in your desperate attempt to stay aboard.

"Reg! Your bed is actually high up! Help me!" You felt like Mufasa clinging to the face of the cliff, fingers digging into the slippery bedding. One of your legs was still on the bed, but not securely enough that you would've been able to pull yourself to safety.

"Just put your leg on the floor, dumbass." She cackled, watching you panic over such a small drop.

"No, look, it's not that- close." You lowered your leg and your knee made contact with the floor. Regina fell back, gasping as she laughed. "Shut up, you teapot!"

"No! I'm not-" She tried to stifle the laughs escaping her, the real wheezing ones she didn't let out of their cage willingly, but one look at you set it off again. "Your hair!"

You lifted your hands to your head. "It's not my fault your sheets are fucking static."

By the time Mrs George came to inform you that she'd be starting on dinner, thus signifying you should probably go, Regina had stopped laughing, if just barely.

"Have you been using the moisturizer I gave you?" You tried to analyze her face. It didn't look any less flawless than usual.

"Yeah, it's really great. My old night lotion started smelling weird for some reason. Maybe it expired early or something." You just hummed in response.

"I should probably go home and make myself dinner too."

"I'll walk you down."

You walked down the stairs and to the backdoor, avoiding the living room despite the blaring of the TV. Mr George was definitely not on a call anymore.

"What're you making today?" Regina asked, standing somewhat awkwardly on the porch.

"Probably tacos. I found a great deal on some corn tortillas at the store. They're all going bad today, so. Gonna stuff myself."

"Save some for me, yeah?"

You weren't sure what she meant by that. "Sure."

You walked home and as you'd said, got started on dinner. Moving around the kitchen without Regina there in the way, chopping whatever vegetables into misshapen cubes, felt weird. She wasn't over that often, but you'd gotten used to it regardless.

It was perhaps your biggest flaw as a person, how intolerant you were to being alone. Ironic, considering how much time you had to spend alone.

If it was up to you, you would've made Birria tacos with a good cut of sirloin, but you didn't have the money for fresh cuts of beef. Besides, you hadn't even started on the stew, and that took a whole day. So, you settled on some basic ground beef filling. You had made Pico de Gallo earlier that day, so it was nice and flavourful by the time you were constructing your tacos.

Back when you'd still needed a babysitter, there had been this one Mexican lady who appeared on the roster most often. It was so long ago you couldn't remember her name. She'd made you call her Abuela. She was sweet and taught you the wonder of Latin American cuisine. From what you could understand, she'd been well-travelled and really loved food everywhere.

She stopped coming when all of your babysitters did. The last time you saw her, you hadn't known it would be the last time.

This time of year really made you a monster. A dull grey, depressing monster. You'd have to find some exciting hobby because even you were getting sick of this. Maybe cliff jumping?

A knock on your door was the last thing you expected when you were finally ready to chow down. Making such a huge amount of food took time.

"What?" You barked to whoever dared to disturb you. "Oh, shit."

"Is that how you greet all your dinner guests?" Regina asked, batting her eyelashes. She had on a deep red dress, shiny satin that licked at the curves and edges of her body just right. It reached all the way to her feet, where you could see black heels peeking out from under the hem. She stood taller than usual, but still so short you could see above her head. The dress was strapless as far as you could tell as her jacket was covering her shoulders. Sweetheart neckline and a clutch to match. She had a thin gold chain around her neck with a small R-charm on it. Gold hoop earrings, hair done up in curls.

A grin crept up onto her face as you continued to gape at her visage. "I know, right?" She posed, one hand holding the clutch at level with her thigh and one poised at her waist. "I'm so sexy."

"Yeah, uh, yes, you are." You stuttered, stunned and flustered. You wanted to touch her, feel the fabric of the dress with the tips of your fingers, grab a hold of her and press close to her. She looked so fucking good.

"Thanks, baby." She took a couple of steps forward to reach you and, nonchalant as could be, brushed her hand at your shoulder as if she were brushing off dust.

Your knees wobbled.

"I have dinner for us." You blurted out. "I, uh..." You needed to pull it together. "I'm gonna go change."

"You do that," Regina said with an indulgent smile. You shot up the stairs.

When you came back down, still tucking your shirt into your trousers and tie undone, Regina was sitting on the couch perusing a magazine. It was probably from last year or something, you didn't exactly update the stuff under the coffee table.

You coughed to get her attention. "Ready for dinner, Reggie?"

"Ugh, don't ruin the moment. Anything other than that."

"I'm Jorts and you're Reggie, that's how it's been." You reminded and gently plucked her clutch from her hands before gesturing for her to turn around. She did, looking a little confused. When you reached to take her jacket off, she recoiled.

"Um, I would like to keep it on." She said, the confidence from before diminishing.

"Oh, why?" You asked. "Are you cold?"

"No, it's just, um..." Regina George stammering. You didn't think you'd live to see the day. "I don't look like I used to before."

"What does that mean?" You checked her out, toes to forehead. Drop-dead gorgeous as always.

"I've gained a bunch of weight." She looked down as if she needed to be ashamed. "I barely fit into this gown. I had to suck in even with the Spanx. And I still look like a whale."

As much as you would've liked to be incredulous and loud about just how wrong she was, it didn't seem like the right course of action. She was being open and vulnerable with you.

"I don't think you look like a whale." You stepped close to her tentatively. You set the clutch on the coffee table. Then, just as tentatively, circled your arms around her. You slotted your fingers together at her lower back and pulled her to you so that your bellies touched.

"I couldn't hug a whale." You pointed out helpfully, leaning back slightly to still look her in the eyes. "I'd love to see the dress in its full glory."

Regina, hands fussing with unmade your tie, bit her lip in contemplation.

"Careful, don't mess up your lipstick." She rubbed her lips together at that, a smile threatening to break out.

"Fine. But you can't laugh or stare or anything."

"I swear." You put one hand on your heart and the other up. "Now turn around."

She did as you asked. "You're being awfully chivalrous."

"It's what you deserve, Reggie." You crooned jokingly, pulling the jacket from her shoulders. The dress was cut elegantly so that there were no straps, but bits of fabric hanging by her upper arms. Cold-shoulder. You hoped the jokes in your tone hid how nervous you were.

"What did I just say?" As if that little moment between you two hadn't even happened, she was right back to her normal self.

"Fine. But you'll always be my Reggie. I guess tonight we can pretend." You sighed. "Whatever you say, honey."

"Better." She turned and tugged at your tie. "Now, let's get you sorted."

"I had very little notice, okay?" You grumbled but bent down obediently so she'd have an easier time tying your tie. You'd used to play dress up mixed with house all the time. You'd nearly always been the dad and so, you had to wear a tie. Obviously. Mrs George had gotten tired of constantly being asked to do it, so she'd taught Regina.

Now, it felt a little different. For one, you were taller. Secondly, this wasn't a children's game. Maybe you were playing a little bit, pretending, but it didn't quite feel like that. There was something undeniably real about this.

"There." She said once she was finished, smoothing it out against your chest. "You couldn't find one matching the dress?"

"You're impossible to please." You chuckled. "I'll make sure to go tie shopping as soon as possible."

"Good." She liked to ignore your sardonic tone pretty often. "Now, what's on the menu?"

You tucked the rest of the shirt into your pants and, voila, you were done.

"Tacos, my lady." You offered up your arm half in jest. She hooked her wrist into the bend of your elbow with an incline of her head. Clearly, she was a girl that liked to be wined and dined.

You snuck a bottle from your dad's wine collection, hoping it wasn't some speciality. Looking at the label, it wasn't very old. Wine quality was assessed like that, right?

You ate your fills and then some, drinking wine all the while, then retreated to the couch to recover, and turned on the TV to watch while eating dessert. Sharing a pint of ice cream, curled up on the couch in fancy clothes, warm and away from the cold of late November, you wondered what had brought this on.

It wasn't an official date, that much you knew. Regina wasn't a lesbian like you. Maybe she was indulging you. That would mean she knew you had a crush on her. You hoped that wasn't true. Regina was an observant person, though. Fuck, that'd be humiliating.

It didn't feel like she was playing with you. It looked like she was having as much fun as you. Maybe she wanted to have a nice, romantic dinner without the pressure of having to impress or perform for her date.

It was nice she'd chosen you. Regardless of why she'd come here tonight, you were just glad she was with you. You'd had a lot of people leave, most of them never coming back. The exceptions to the rule were Regina and your dad. They were similar in that, but nothing else. When dad came back, he brought with him a never-pleased frown and a stifling presence. When Regina came back, she brought light.

She had her flaws. You had yours. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and Christmas would soon follow. You had no doubt that Janis had something nefarious planned for at least one of those events. Nothing was sure, things were undecided.

"I'm going for a smoke." You said when the episode ended.

"I'm coming with."

"You won't be getting one."

"I don't want it anyway. Cigarettes taste like shit."

You laughed and walked to the backdoor. Through it and onto the patio, you slumped onto the bench swing. Regina followed a lot more gracefully, heels chucked somewhere in the house, bundled up in the blanket she'd claimed as hers since the first time she slept over. She sat next to you and spread it over both your laps. You hummed in thanks and lit up.

Regina might've been a massive bitch. She had, and there was no denying it, done some awful things. And maybe it was fucked up for you to like one part of a person and not the whole of them, but did that count if you were sure that the undesirable part was all a facade?

"So..." You started. "Better than any of the dates Aaron took you to?" You couldn't help but ask. Veiled under a joke, you hoped your jealousy didn't show.

"Don't be cocky." She admonished, resembling her mom almost creepily. "He didn't really take me out."

"What? Why?" If you could openly date Regina there wouldn't be a limit to how much you'd be taking her out, showing her off to anybody who'd listen.

"How should I know?" She shrugged indignantly. "We broke up a little after Homecoming."

"What? I didn't hear about this."

"Really? I thought you would've since it was pretty big news for a while." You didn't want to admit you'd been purposefully avoiding rumours about the couple for the majority of their relationship. "He outlived his purpose."

"The Halloween Party and Homecoming." You clarified and she nodded.

You took a drag. Regina pulled what seemed like a candy bar out of her clutch. It was the same brand she'd been eating earlier today.

Considering she'd been insecure about her weight, you didn't comment on it. You took another drag. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something weird.

"Hey, can I look at the packaging of that?"

Wordlessly, Regina handed it over. You looked at the product info. Great, it was all in Swedish.

"Where'd you get these?"

"Cady got me a box of them. They're good for weight loss. Like, they just burn all your carbs." You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at the product info. The numbers didn't seem like that of a weight loss product.

You didn't like she was eating something that would empty her stomach right after dinner. That couldn't have been healthy.

"You're trusting something Cady gave to you?"

She tilted her head, as if about to question you. Her mouth opened, then closed, and opened again.

"Shut up. Shut up."

You took a long drag.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared

(i keep forgetting to add this note. comment on this post if you want on the taglist!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #renee rapp #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #mean girls musical #mean girls movie #mean girls broadway #wlw #fic: yard work

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windvexer · 2 months ago

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Hello chicken!

I come to you today with a question I've had for a long time, and I read a post a while ago where you gave tips on entering the astral for people who struggle with it. In this, you mentioned, if I remember correctly, that people who day dream a lot should find a way to tell apart their spiritual travels from daydreams.

The thing is—I'm not only a maladaptive daydreamer since I can remember but also a fiction writer. Meaning my mind comes up with random places and people and story fractures all the time. And when prompted with something, it can run pretty far. I have no way of determining wether or not my spiritual encounters with familiar spirits have been legit or a complete result of my own imagination.

I really wanna know if there's a way to determine if my experience are "real" or made up and how I can go about differentiating them. If you have anything that could help with that I'd be super grateful.

Have a wonderful day and thank you already

We're in reference to this, I think?

This is one of those situations where there are IME never any blanket tips, because everyone has their own needs.

"Real astral travel is fatiguing whereas daydreaming is not" is not a rule of thumb that is helpful to people that don't really get tired astral traveling, or who are exhausted by racing thoughts.

I believe it's vital to experiment for oneself to build up a system of checks and balances that works for you.

That being said here are some ways that travel can be tested (again, consider how these checks may be inadequate depending on the areas you travel, your innate skills, etc).

If you have tips or thoughts to add, please feel free!

You have valid experiences with your spirits if they pan out - if your spirits give you information, spells, techniques, etc., that work. A lot of valid techniques and lore aren't written down, so comparing it to other sources doesn't always work - you have to put it to the test. You can also ask spirits to do things for you - things that should be easily doable - and see if it happens (like, asking them to visit you at a certain time and setting a reminder after the fact).

You can't really control spirits in the astral the way you control daydream characters. Your daydream character can say or do whatever you think even on the slightest of whims. Spirits do not, and if you try to force them to say or do things they can become very upset.

In the astral, there is no story to fracture. It's not a story, there is no narrative. It's a lived experience.

Astral realms are causal, just like our normal physical reality. In a daydream if you realize a character has on the wrong outfit for this scene, based on that mere idea the story might retroactively correct to suddenly have the character be in the right outfit. But in the astral, for a spirit to have on different clothes, they have to go change clothes. And that takes time. They have to leave that location, go to where they keep their clothes, change their clothes, and come back.

There is no fracturing the story into two versions, one where the spirit has on the right outfit from the start, and one where they don't. There is no story.

In a daydream, you control the experience. At the perfect moment, it starts raining in the graveyard for the dramatic reveal. In the astral, you are experiencing something external. You can imagine it's raining, try to force it to rain, or project rain. You might even see rain for a few moments. But your perception will tend to snap back to the actual experience. And then the spirits might be looking at you weird, asking what you're doing. You can't restart the scene because there is no scene.

In a daydream if there is a locked door, that doesn't necessarily stop you in any way. You can know what's behind the locked door, where the key is, how difficult it is to open the door, if there are alternate routes, and so on. You can even know who made the door and the forest the wood came from. The characters might be stuck on one side but you are the omnipotent creator god of that reality and you have all the information you want.

In the astral if you encounter a locked door, you don't automatically know what's behind it. If you don't have the key, you can use magic to unlock it or you can try to break it down. But if you can't, then you can't. If your path is blocked, you won't automatically know any alternative paths forward. The narrative isn't going to be rewritten to account for plot holes; there is no plot. Do you want to know who made the door? Well, how do you intend to find out? Because that information isn't up to you; it exists externally from you.

The characters are at a gorge. The next part of the story is on the other side. Figuring out how to cross the gorge isn't interesting right now, the emotional energy is ready to carry us deeper into the plot. Let's just put a pin in the crossing and figure it out later. For now, we teleport into the future. The characters are on the other side of the gorge, ready to travel into the city.

In the astral, you are stuck on that side of the gorge until you figure out how to cross it. You can imagine or pretend you're on the other side, but eventually you will be bounced back to where you are actually standing.

Daydreams remain static unless you are there to change them. The changes may be sprawling and nigh instantaneous, but they come from you; you are making it up. You are never going to come back to a daydream and realized the fundamental reality of the daydream changed since monday and is irreversible to its prior state.

Astral realms will change on their own whether or not you're there for it. One day a new path appears that was never there before. You can't "switch back" to the other version because there is not more than one version, it's a living area. One day there is a blockage and you can't go to that location. The next day the blockage disappears, or it remains until you resolve it.

Daydreams tend to be low-energy. You can go through the epic history of an empire in 30 minutes. Astral travel tends to be energy-intensive. You can hang out for 15 minutes and talk to one fish in a fountain before you get tired and sleepy.

Similarly, changes in daydreams can be done with nothing more than the energy of a thought; you can raise up houses, neighborhoods, cities, empires, and solar systems with the blink of an eye. In the astral, if you want a bucket of water, you have to pick up the bucket, go to the well, get the water, and walk back. And if it takes you 15 actual IRL minutes, then that's how long it takes you.

My tl;dr is that if it feels like you're an omnipotent multiversal creator god having adventures in endless stories with clear narratives, side-quests, and character arcs, then I'd be more likely to hazard that you're daydreaming. If it feels like you are a person trying to live your got dang life, if you run into problems that require real time and energy to resolve, and if you drop the ball and the world moves on without you - it's more likely you're traveling.

(The only thing I will say is that time in the astral generally doesn't work like how it does here - time can scroll forward very quickly. But if you have time-god powers like editing the past, jumping around from past to present and into alternate timelines, or flash-freezing the universe to walk around in it, I'd be suspicious.

In addition, what worlds you're going to can have a huge impact - personal astral spaces you're fully in control over are, well, much easier to control than external spaces where you're a visitor.)

#answered

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scoutsrpmemes · 3 months ago

Text

bard of roses.

a collection of prompts inspired by and that remind me of an origincial character. ( as always, feel free to tweak things such as pronouns, words, and titles as needed for context. ) cw: death.

"be careful with what you hold to be true, darling."

"it can't be as simple as your name, a name after all is only worth what meaning we give it."

"i resent you presenting your life, like a fucking propaganda brochure."

"it's easy to be a saint in paradise."

"i buried the girl i had been because she ran into all kinds of trouble. i tried to erase every memory of her, but she is still there, somewhere. she is still small and scared and ashamed, and perhaps i am writing my way back to her, trying to tell her everything she needs to hear."

"i am tired of the mental arithmetic that my father no doubt goes through to justify his actions."

"only a firm resolve can drive a truth-seeker forward, and only ardent flames can vanquish the ice that freezes the hand of justice."

"use your wits, not your fists."

"my mother begged for a sheep, but raised a wolf."

"plenty of girls will accept the bare minimum, but i am not one of them."

"i... fucking hate you."

"facing oneself is never easy under any circumstances."

their voices can only reach few who are willing to listen.

"it's the topic everyone is most concerned about... at the moment."

"the quality of wine is closely related to the timeliness of its appearance."

"but there are flowers amidst the thorns… a sweet fragrance promising a happy ending; dangerous and desirable all at once."

"i'm tired of explaining the fire. it burns because it must."

"i was practicing. if you were wanting to watch, come earlier next time. i won't be waiting."

"enough sniffing about me like a mole. i haven't any tea or sweets for guests."

"this new outfit is for my next appearance."

"i will either find a way, or i will make one."

"remember this, i am first and foremost: a hater!"

"well- i love you, if that helps."

"you know what my mother used to call me? dangerous. 'you're a dangerous girl'. she was right. i am dangerous."

"ultimately, i am jealous of nepotism babies. i want a nothing life too."

"i resent you for being raised 'right'!"

"i hear the purest melody in you."

"... this place is even worse than hell."

"look at us both: covered in other people's blood and debating morality."

"love? ridiculous. no one, not even the gods, would sacrifice so much of themselves for love."

"it reminds me of a forgotten, abandoned stage."

"i think ultimately you become whoever would have saved you that time that no one did."

"i cannot die here. not like this."

#mine.#rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp starter #rp meme #sentence meme #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp inbox meme #rp memes

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gem-is-bored · 2 months ago

Text

I like specbio so this was bound to happen eventually so here's my thoughts and headcanons on hearthian reproductive biology and behavior (under the cut bc I know some people won't want to see this stuff) (cw for mention of incest in nature/in a scientific context)

I'll start by adressing the elephant in the room. an isolated community this size is going to be incredibly inbred without the aid of some weird biology stuff. there's just not enough room for any genetic diversity. of course one could headcanon that there are actually other communities of hearthians on their home planet who can't be shown bc the whole solar system got shrunk to a managable size for the game, or that the in-game village would be much larger and therefore have a larger gene pool. if one chooses to ignore the human cultural taboo, one could argue that hearthians just got lucky that the individuals that made it through the bottleneck just didn't carry genes which code for genetic diseases

also the seeming unimportance of family to hearthians is worthy of mention here I think. do they not track that, or is it literally something they cannot keep track of?

I personally like to headcanon that hearthians are capable of asexual reproduction. aka cloning themselves. I have a sort of explanation for how this helps with the genetic diversity problem, but I'll come back to that later. bc next is the other elephant in the room

hearthians are a genderless species, as far as we can tell. there's a chance that do have genders without gendered pronouns, but if so, from a human's perspective there's no immediate distinction between any

how does this translate into information about their biological sex? technically they could be a bisex species (have two different perisex phenotypes, ex. humans with male and female) with little to no sexual dimorphism or social effects. that would feel kinda counterintuitive and even slightly bigoted, I feel like headcanoning that would sound like I'm saying "so here's who is Actually Secretly a girl or a boy" which is bad. so I'm gonna say that hearthians are a cosexed species (only one perisex phenotype) (not using the h slur bc I'm not a dumbass) (stop using it right now)

tldr. anyone can have biological offspring with anyone else, or completely by oneself

now back to the genetic diversity problem. I remember hearing somewhere that some micro-organisms can basically steal dna from other things and that's how they get new genes and evolve even tho they can only clone themselves. I'm headcanoning that hearthian eggs do a similiar thing. little tiny baby thief criminal before even hatching. how adorable

this is getting longer and longer but I still have some thoughts so I'm putting them here no matter how poorly formatted or how many correct words I forget:

tginking about humanoid creatures laying eggs is really weird to me but I think the eggs are laid pretty early thru their developement

actually the time at which they're laid depends on if it was asexually produced or not. decided that just now.

for some social headcanons for once I'm saying that for hearthians, sex (the action) is not nearly as popular or taboo as with humans

so that means it's just a thing that happens sometimes. no one's judged based on it beyond some friendly beef over some differing opinions of it

they like cuddling and just. passive proximity a lot tho. just being physically close to others

in the outer wilds magma party at some point I made a joke about mitosis (frogor why) and that's how the cloning headcanon started

also in the magma party someone mentioned their headcanons about how hearthians' fertilization works weird so the baby can have three or more biological parents. I'm stealing that

idk

so sad that hearthians have no idea what gay is

they can't even trensgender 💔 tragic

#outer wilds #yea this post is pretty weird tbh. feel free to ignore #spec bio

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olderthannetfic · 1 year ago

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I am most definitely beating a dead horse with this ask, but I gotta say something cause it's just boiling up inside my chest right now.

We all don't really like the the author for Heartstopper because she put down Asian BL and it's "Bad kinky feithisatization" and basically saying her Western work is pure and non fetishy (Fucking shoot me.)

And it just reminded of an author who did that several years back, definitely to a lesser degree though. They still did it and I remember I stopped reading it because it felt so fuckin performative and it left such a bad fucking taste in my mouth.

Author of the Webtoon Castle Swimmer had a chapter come out maybe between 2021-2022 where the main character (they are guys, they are gay for each other) saw each other again after they were apart for quite some time. When they reunited, there was as scene of them kissing and it getting juuuuuust a tiny bit spicy, not much though. It was cute, it was nice.

I go down to the comments where authors can put notes down for the webtoons and the author had written something along the lines of how the story isn't gonna be icky sexual and there is going to be no fetishy bullshit when it comes to the two main characters and fucking blah blah blah and basically implying that other webtoons that do turn sexual with it's gaybies are impure scum.

Don't know if they still feel like that

But my question is - why the fuck do these supposed queer authors or authors that make queer content always trying to save face and say that their content is better than that "icky shit",

Like fuck, Castle Swimmer has pretty decent rep in its story, but I can't seem to enjoy it when I feel as if its just their as a "HEY LOOK AT MY STORY IT HAS THE RIGHTS THINGS TO LIKE"

and unfortunately that's how I feel with most lgbtq webtoons, books, etc. Idk maybe I'm just cynical and tired or maybe they just suck at writing and incorporating queer themes and characters - I have no idea.

This probably could be worderd a lot better to bring more nuance to the table, but I am so upset at Castle Swimmer because I like it a lot, I just can't past the bullshit.

Rest assured that the desire to shoot oneself in the foot is not restricted to authors of queer works.

"My version of this genre is so much better" is a common malady among all sorts of creators.

This particular flavor has a little more stupidass purity culture and sucking up to the mainstream, but it's not so different from the many flavors of "There's no good ___ fic, so I'm going to write some!" and "I, a ~literary~ author, know how to write genre fiction better than you hacks!"

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milgram-en · 3 months ago

Text

Trial 2 - Mikoto Kayano Interrogation (English Translation)

T/N: If using/reuploading/reposting this translation, do not remove nor crop the translator's notes, do not color code the translations, and do not change the translations. Additional Translator's Notes will be found in the replies. Check the original post before reblogging as TLs are occasionally revisited and edited.

Q.01 妹とは仲がいい？そリゃもう又が都会で頑張ってるとこ現せてあげたいね

Q.01 Are you on good terms with your sister? Of course I want to show her that her big brother's still hanging on, doing their best in the big city, y'know?

Q.02 転職は考えていないのか？ないよ苦労して入った最大手だししんどくても頑張れば報われる

Q.02 Haven't you thought of changing jobs? No way! I went through a lot to get into such a big company Even if it's draining, if you work hard, your efforts will be rewarded

Q.03 結婚願望はあるか？あるある実績話んで独立してからの話だけどね

Q.03 Do you have a desire to get married? I mean that's how it usually goes Though I'm only talking about when I've established myself as a person and independently supporting myself

Q.04 両親の離婚の原因は？家庭と何で仕事を取ったってだけの話だよまぁ、母から聞いた話だしわかんないけどね

Q.04 What was the cause of your parents' divorce? Choosing work over family Well- At least that's what my mother told me so, who knows?

Q.05 一審の判決についてどう思う？纳得いかないよでももうわからない

Q.05 What do you think about the outcome of the first trial? I don't get it But I don't get anything anymore

Q.06 別の人格の存在をどう感じている？本当にあるなら不安だよ知らないうちになにか起きるなんて

Q.06 How do you feel about the existence of another personality? If there really is I'm worried I can't believe something like that was happening without me knowing T/N: The term "another personality" is based on what Mikoto's vocabulary is reasonably consisted of and how Mikoto would translate it due to that. An alternate translation—a more clinical one—would be: "How do you feel about the existence of another self-state?" Regarding 知らないうちにが起きるなんて (shiranai uchi ni ga okiru nante), it has a temporal nuance hence the usage of the progressive gerund "-ing" in "happening". While 起きる (okiru) can mean "to occur", "to happen" fits more in this sentence's context as "occur" is associated with expected events, whereas "happen" is associated with unplanned events. In this case, since Mikoto still expresses doubt and uncertainty about whether he has "another personality" (as indicated by なら (nara, meaning "if")), "happen" was chosen.

Q.07 マヒルのことをどう思う？ひどいよねあれをぼくがやったなんて信じられるわけないだろ

Q.07 What are your thoughts regarding Mahiru? It's disgusting To think I did something like that It's hard to believe T/N: ぼく(boku), meaning "I/Me", is spelled in hiragana. The usage of が (ga) in ぼくがやったなんて (boku ga yatta nante) implies that the writer of this interrogation answer feels that they have a lack of control over the ぼく(boku) that supposedly did those acts.

Q.08 罪悪感はあるか？覚えてないことにどう罪悪感そもてばいいんたよ

Q.08 Do you have any feelings of guilt? How can I feel guilt about something I don't remember?! T/N: A more accurate translation for the question would be "Do any feelings of guilt exist [within you]?", however it sounds unnatural in English.

Q.09 人を殺したいと思ったことはあるか？ないそんなのあるわけない

Q.09 Have you ever wanted to kill someone? No There's no way that could ever happen

Q.10 柀害者に申し訳ないと思わないのか？

Q.10 Don't you feel sorry for the victims?

Q.11 気になる囚人はいるか？

Q.11 Is there a prisoner that interests you?

Q.12 コトコについてどう思っている？きにいらない

Q.12 What do you think about Kotoko? I don't like her T/N: きにいらない (ki ni iranai) has nuance where, in this context, Mikoto is not pleased nor satisfied with Kotoko.

Q.13 お前にとって暴力とはなんだ？たすけたかった

Q.13 What does violence mean to you? I just wanted to help

Q.14 自分の名前についてどう思う？わるくない

Q.14 What do you think about your self's name? Not bad T/N: 自分の名前 (jibun no namae) means "oneself's name" but it sounds unnatural in English, hence "your self's name", a purposeful space between "your" and "self" since 自分 (jibun) is a pronoun that sounds distanced from the self (hence it's meaning of "oneself").

Q.15 お前が赦せないものはなんだ？ぼくをこまらせるもの

Q.15 What can you not forgive? Things that trouble me T/N: The usage of を (wo), as opposed to が (ga), has a nuance that the "things that trouble" him are out of 09's control— that the troubling things have much more control over 09's agency.

Q.16 命にかえてでも守りたいものはあるか？ぼくのいのちだ

Q.16 Is there something you would protect even at the cost of your life? My life T/N: 「ぼく」 (boku, hiragana) is a first-person pronoun meaning "I/Me/Myself", usually used by masculine persons. In this context, an alternate but accurate translation that sounds unnatural in English would be: "Q.16 Is there something you would protect even at the cost of your life? Me's life"

Q.17 なぜ赦されなかったかわかるか？おれのせいだ

Q.17 Do you understand why you weren't forgiven? It's my fault T/N: 09 uses 「おれ」 (ore, hiragana) in this question, whereas in Neoplasm, ore is spelled in katakana as 「オレ」 according to the scriptbook. "Ore" is a first-person pronoun that means "I/Me/Myself" that makes its speaker sound like they're arrogant, rough, uneducated and/or brash, but it also makes the speaker sound like they're strong. Some guys use ore to look strong in order to avoid being bullied or to simply look strong.

Q.18 もう一人の自分に言いたいことはあるか？ごめんなさい

Q.18 Is there something you want to say to the other you? I'm sorry T/N: An alternative translation of the question is: "Is there something you want to say the other singularity of a person within you?"

Q.19 運動神経は良い方か？そこそこじゃない？元高校球児だしでも設運動してないし微妙かも

Q.19 Are you good at sports? I'm decent, I guess? I was a high school baseball player But I don't exercise now so my sports skills are up for question

Q.20 生まれ変わったらまた自分になりたいか？そうだねまぁまぁ悪くないと思ってるよ

Q.20 If you were reborn, would you want to be yourself again? Yeah I don't think things have been all too bad

#milgram #milgram mikoto #mikoto kayano #milgram translation #MILGRAM Trial 2

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