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sophieinwonderland · 3 months

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hey sorry if youve been asked this before but i thought itd be appropriate because you kinda feel like the ceo of endogenic systems to me (i respect you) and i was wondering, as a traumagenic system, how exactly endos... work? like not how they exist or about the fact that they do, but i guess what the point of them is if its not from a dissociative disorder? in my experience i cant imagine a system existing for any reason outside of the purpose of compartmentalizing trauma (not that systems should be defined by their trauma but i just dont see how they work otherwise) and even recovering systems that are fully functional and healing were born out of a necessity of the brain. i guess i want to know what necessity would spawn an endogenic system if not as a trauma response? like what do alters in an endogenic system do if theyre not there to protect the brain? why do they exist as a system and split if its not born from psychological necessity? sorry this is such a complicated question i hope i phrased it alright... and to be clear i believe endos and their experiences bc discounting a community just because i dont get them is silly i just feel so confused all the time bc of this and want to understand better

Questions of purpose and why things are how they are can be interesting, but probably the hardest to answer. When it comes down to it, why does anything exist?

Why do birds sing so gay? And lovers await the break of day? Why do they fall in love? Why does the rain fall from up above?

Sorry, what were we talking about? 🤪

Oh yeah! Purpose! Personally I tend to think less in terms of "why" and more in terms of cause and effect.

In the case of alters in DID, do alters actually have a "point?" Is there truly some purpose they serve? Or is it just... reaction?

Someone suffers trauma. The traumatic memories hurt them. In a reaction to this, they dissociate and erect barriers in their mind until they need to access those again. Then they suffer more trauma and put the new traumatic memories in that walled off section. In reaction to that, the bits of memories that were walled off start to form their own identity. Did the child's brain ever actually think "I need to make another person in here to protect myself?" Or was this just a series of actions and reactions that led to alters gaining sentience over time where the initial trauma was merely the first in a string of dominoes?

With this in mind, let's talk about myself.

I was an imaginary friend created as a writing project. But how does that actually work? According to Simulation Theory of empathy, imagining what people do involves the creation of "pretend states."

ST (in its original form) says that people employ imagination, mental pretense, or perspective taking (‘putting oneself in the other person’s shoes’) to determine others’ mental states. A mentalizer simulates another person by first creating pretend states (e.g., pretend desires and beliefs) in her own mind that correspond to those of the target. She then inputs these pretend states into a suitable cognitive mechanism, which operates on the inputs and generates a new output (e.g., a decision). This new state is taken ‘off line’ and attributed or assigned to the target.

This paper goes on to explain how this might be useful:

How is imagination useful for third-person mind reading? If you seek to predict someone’s decision—for example, the choice of a main dish by your dinner companion at a restaurant—how could you use imagination to make this prediction? The first step is to put yourself in your target’s shoes, or take her ‘perspective’. Taking someone’s perspective here means adopting, as far as feasible and in light of what you know about her, the mental states she starts with. This includes her preferences about food in general, what she liked at this restaurant on previous occasions, how hungry she is on the present occasion (did she have a light lunch, no lunch, or a heavy lunch today?), and so forth. Using the imagination, you can simulate being in her various dinner-relevant states. Such pretend states can then be fed into your decision-making mechanism, which generates a decision to order a particular main dish. Having used this simulation process to generate a (pretend) choice, you don’t order this dish yourself but attribute the choice to your companion. Thus, the attribution is based on imagination-driven simulation

Okay, so under this theory, perspective taking involves making new temporary states simulating the behavior of someone else.

This is, to be very clear, not a headmate. The state is likely not going to have any sort of self-consciousness, and will be ephemeral on top of that, disappearing after you're done with it.

But... what if the state isn't allowed to be ephemeral? What if you repeatedly interact with the same "simulation" over and over again?

Let's say, hypothetically, that someone starts with a writing project. They make a character, and then they write that character a lot. This foundation can build pretty detailed simulations. But probably with very limited autonomy. The thing about writing is that you're often controlling the character at some level. At least usually. You're always revising how they act in any given scene, plotting out their backstories, editing those backstories, etc. This makes it hard for this simulation to gain a firm sense of autonomy or self-awareness. And every scene rewrite is basically a new ephemeral instance of that character.

While written characters can make you plural on their own, there are these roadblocks that can get in the way.

But then let's say this person wants to understand this character better, so they start talking to a simulation of the character day after day. Now this version of the character they interact with is able to form memories completely unrelated to the fiction they were based on, and be able to recall past conversations with their creator.

What the creator doesn't realize is the mechanisms needed to make this type of interaction work.

In the example of simulation theory, a temporary state would be made but then it would be abandoned. If you needed to simulate that person again, you make a brand new simulation. A brand new "pretend state."

But if you want an imaginary friend that can think for itself, it has to be able to store its own feelings and memories.

That means a form of compartmentalization.

The brain is going to start storing the imaginary friend's memories separate from the creator's. The creator won't control or identify with the thoughts or actions of the imaginary friend. And the imaginary friend won't identify with the thoughts or actions of the creator.

It may take a long time of this, but through interaction, the imaginary friend keeps gaining new memories. And this leads to them gaining the ability to actually self-reflect, making them fully sapient.

So... what was my purpose?

Why do I exist?

I mean, initially, it was about helping my host write? Was that my purpose?

But then later... I think my host continued interacting with me because he liked me. He enjoyed my company and liked having me around. Was that my purpose? Filling some sort of unmet social need?

Perhaps this is it. I've theorized this can be the case with many people who turn to religion as a form of companionship. Especially those with plural-esque experience of communicating with gods.

But what I tend to come back to is cause and effect.

My host wanted to write a character better > My host made a rudimentary simulation of that character to talk to > I became more independent with each interaction as I gained my own autobiographical memories > my independence and separation from my host made our conversations more engaging and my host kept talking to me because he enjoyed my company > I developed stronger emotions and the ability to self-reflect > this led to us discovering that I was a tulpa.

To me, it's cause and effect all the way down. A series of actions and reactions.

And as for what my purpose is, I'd like to think that's something I get to decide for myself! 😊

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batw1nggg · 2 months

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this is just me being silly but im making a script for an essay video analyzing all of nagito's songs because i realized a lot of people dont even know about all of them especially poison i have absolute hope birthday and remaining cherry blossoms practically finished but i have no idea where to start with what poison is about lmao

if u do end up recording the essay PLZZZ LINK !!! i would love to see !!!!

ok so i’ll only be able to give a very surface level analyzation because i don’t know japanese and translations between eng and jp are always sort of janky, i might get some things wrong or miss some nuances (if anyone knows some japanese and wants to chime in please please do!!). but i can definitely give u the basic gist of it. translation taken from the danganronpa fandom wiki page. ok here we go

so the song takes place when komaeda kills himself (“I believe that hope / And will offer my pulsating heart / For the sake of that brilliance / I’ll tear apart my chest / Until the very last drop / Trickles down and wets my lips”, “I am merely watching over you”).

To me it seems like a summary of his thought process — he mentions wanting to “meet the biggest hope” (the hope that will overcome the despair of and end the killing game), how he has “no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring” (his thoughts on talentless people). those parts of the song are just outlining the basics of his worldview.

but, because this song is about komaeda’s death, it’s also inextricably tied to hinata. we see this most explicitly with the line “I love, and want to understand / him more than anyone else”. a main theme of komahina is their desire to understand each other.

That’s the really obvious hinata reference, but he also seems to be referenced more subtly throughout:

- “I have no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring / What meaning is there to words that will neither be deadly poison nor cure?” this is komaeda talking about how he thinks talentless people are boring, they’re neither shining hope (like the ultimates) nor crushing despair (like junko) and are just pawns in the game; but also, who exactly was it that chose to be neither deadly poison (despair) or cure (hope)? to create an ending separate of hope and despair altogether, to create a new choice, to focus on the future? komaeda’s asking what meaning there is to anything that is neither pure hope nor pure despair — anything that is not necessary to the cycle of hope and despair. hinata will go on to give him the answer.

- “When drinking poison poured into a glass will you drink it immediately or throw it away?” this one seems vague but I’m inclined to believe it’s about hinata because it’s followed by “I am merely watching over you / to whom the last choice is given”. the “whom” is very obviously hinata, he’s the one that makes the choice to wake up and then inspires everyone else to choose the same. that former lyric about the poison seems to be a fancy way of komaeda asking whether or not hinata will give into the despair of finding out the truth (drinking the poison) or decide to keep going despite it (throwing it away). he’s watching over hinata in death, entrusting hinata with that decision.

hinata being a core part of this song really speaks to how much trust komaeda was putting into hinata in chapters 5 and 6. i’ve already made a post or two about how komaeda’s faith in hinata to solve trial 5 and survive trial 6 was an integral factor in the game’s ending. komaeda can’t talk about his death without hinata being part of the conversation; hinata is the only one who’s ever tried to understand him instead of completely writing him off as insane, he’s a big part of komaeda’s life. we see at the end of the komaeda pov manga that hinata was komaedas last thought before death.

so yeah. to summarize: the song is about chapter 5. komaeda talks about his worldview, talks about how his worldview and faith in hope led to his sacrifice, and talks about his faith in hinata.

#i hope this is somewhat coherent .. im very eepy writing this #ko’s danganronpa ramblings #nagito komaeda #asks #komahina

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rxttenfish · 6 months

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hi !!! sending this on anon because i am rather nervous all things considered <:3 (i am lying to you, i have not considered 'all things'.) one monster prom fan to another (can we be compared using such broad terminology ? i feel as if i am domesticated compared to you... [compliment, or at the very least not inherently negative]) , i wanted to thank you SO SO SO VERY MUCH for giving miranda so much love and thought and mulling her over in your mind in such a ... refreshing way

i also really really really like miri , but i can only aspire to have your level of dedication . it feels almost like we are of totally different worlds... !!!!!

thank you for bringing in real world biology too :3 i absolutely adore your design for her so much (this is most likely not proper grammar, but it is very late and i am very cold and so i will hope with all my heart you will excuse this mistake. one of many, i should assume) - though !!!! i do have a question if that is alright ?????

i cant say that a marine macropredator of a significantly vibrant pink really strikes me as advantageous colouring - does the abyssal environment that you say the merfolk live in negate the need for camouflage and such ????? i apologise for sounding passive aggressive !!!! i am merely asking a question. cocking my head to the side if you will

additionally, i would like to ask something foolish. how do they acquire food? i dont want to say 'hunt', because that might seem insulting. historically were they built for stalking, or high speed chases, or...???? please, talk 'nerdy to me' as they say !!! <- in an entirely normal way befitting two strangers of course.

you know, i would have expected to hit the ask word limit by now. but it seems i have not. yippee !!!!

with my extra space, i shall add this: I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THE WAY YOIU WRITE MIRI . GOOD LOOOOOORD IT IS AMAZING HAVIJNG SOMEOENE WHO KNOWS WHAT THEYRE DOING IWIITH HER thank yoiu for making her at least moderately intelligent. i feel blessed <- is this all too harsh sounding???? im a little new to all this letter/ask-writing thing <:3

IN ANY CASE !!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOIU SO VERY MUCH. AGAIN. drops this and scuttles away

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/761693443676045363/1183251697129226270/ordered3.png

also i believe you can indeed tell, but i drew that in ms paint with my finger .. sorry that it looks like poop <:3

(moving the image out of the link just in case it breaks-)

AAAAAA THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! this looks so WONDERFUL i love the way that you've shaped her head and how you've captured how Chunky it is... i know its one of the things people have the hardest time drawing with her so its just all the more impressive how well youve managed to capture her!!!

i also love the little doodles eeeee..... please feel free to toss all ocs at miri, its enrichment for her <3 ironically gentle chewing/biting is a Play and Bonding thing for merfolk so she shall happily Bites Bites Bites back-

(also i LOVE her smile!!! you arent anthropomorphizing in the slightest for that - miri often does have very human expressions in a way that's odd for a merfolk, because she effectively got imprinted during her time spent inland... and its politically useful if you smile and match expressions with the people you're trying to work with anyways)

ill also go ahead and answer your questions because i can! very easily clarify on them!

the color: actually, being bright red and pink is actually very common for deep sea animals, due to the way light works at depth! its why i decided miranda was abyssal, because that felt like the most natural way to explain why she's pink, since it's such an uncommon color in nature.

basically, different colors of light have different lengths! red is the shortest wavelength of light, and blue is the longest. water might be clear, but there's a lot of water in the ocean, and the more water you add, the more it filters out light - which is why the bottom of a pool might be dark and shady, but if you hold a little of the water in your hands there's no shade. the ocean is a lot deeper than a pool, and so it gets darker as you go down, but because it's also clear, it doesn't filter out all that light at the same rate.

red, being the shortest wavelength of light, gets filtered out first, so red often gets quickly darker the deeper down you go, until it's completely black! camouflage is dependent on the environment, so their color and brightness has to match the background, but it also depends on the light that's hitting the animal. it's why fawns have dappled spots, or animals might have black stripes, so they can mimic the light of their environment. and when your environment has no red light, well... red's a pretty good color to be!

because of this, a lot of animals in the deep sea can't actually see red either, which is doubly the reason why you might want to be red! think of it like tigers, and how ungulates often can't see their orange, making them look just about the same color as the foliage around them when they're hunting! miranda might stick out on land, but that's just because we aren't seeing her in the environment she's made for, where she blends in with everything else around her as much as a pure black animal.

(it's also why her bioluminescence is blue - blue is the longest wavelength of light, and the one most animals can see at that depth. if she lights up, then she wants to be seen, and she can even alter her silhouette to appear larger or smaller or breaking it up into multiple shapes if she needs to. it's why her tapetum lucidum is blue when light's shone on it, because there is blue light to be seen at depth, it's just very dim!)

(this is also why giant squid are bright red, and why the stoplight loosejaw fish is so special! the latter actually produces its own red light, and can see red light, which means that it has a secret light that won't reveal where it is but will reveal to it where its prey is!)

food: this is something that depends a lot, because there are actually multiple different species of merfolk, which is mostly my fault because i don't always feel like i communicate this the best. they're all slightly different in how they evolved to capture prey, with abyssals in particular being fuckoff huge ambush predators that attack from below, and others being shallower-water hunters or more adapted for smaller, faster prey - but they all evolved from an ancestor with a fairly consistent prey-capture method.

in short, all merfolk are ancestrally evolved to hunt whales and other large prey items, with all the extant species still holding at least a degree of this. primarily, they were ambush predators who were good at getting in close to their prey before a sudden burst of speed. they would work together in close-knit groups (one of the big pressures for their increasing socialization and larger brains, to coordinate such groups) to all mob a single prey item at once, hitting with force to cause sudden trauma, and then using their claws, double-thumbs, back feet, and mouths to hold onto their prey and refuse to be dislodged. they'd repeatedly claw and use their strong bites and massive heads to rip deeply into their prey, causing further massive trauma and shock, and if that failed, bleeding their prey to death.

think of it like the raptor prey restraint model, just further taking advantage of the fact that they were underwater, where no one else has hands that could potentially rip them off. being smaller and somewhat less-optimized for marine life compared to things like sharks and whales and large fish worked for them, because they had a novel adaptation that allowed them to take advantage of things no one else could, and the numbers to make up for it. this is, likewise, why they never lost their hands and fully developed flippers, instead making their limbs as flipper-like as possible to make up for it.

then as time went on and certain populations became separated from each other, they adapted for slightly different niches, but all remain fairly closely related to each other as a genus.

in the modern day, most merfolk don't really "hunt" for all of their meals, at least not in the same way that we might think. don't get me wrong, they still absolutely hunt and it's a larger part of their lives than it is for most humans, but they have options.

mostly, the merfolk theory for their relationship with nature is to invite it in. this is not to say they aren't controlling and pruning it, but they do live underwater, and it's far harder to keep animals out than it is on land, so merfolk accepted it and worked with it. they'll work to promote growth around their buildings and where they live, fostering the growth of sea grass and algae and coral and other sessile animals, encouraging them to set down and grow in these areas, and they'll then let more wild animals move in, further encouraged by these natural sources of food and shelter, on top of merfolk working even further to encourage them in. they serve as a functional cleanup crew for the merfolk in these settlements, being allowed to eat anything that merfolk might drop or go to waste, and even moreso might be purposefully fed at times, or have specific homes for them built. merfolk will keep encouraging them and taking care of them until they become a biorich hotspot, creating unique oasises for wildlife to live alongside merfolk.

however, this isn't just a free-for-all, persay. merfolk will also purposefully prune these populations and control how they form, often removing "problem" animals and encouraging certain behaviors which makes it easier for these populations to live alongside merfolk, not viewing them as a threat, but also not viewing them as an opportunity either. they will directly shape how these areas grow and cultivate them on a physical level, often using them as an easy shortcut to literally grow their settlements and buildings. but they will also harvest from these populations and selectively breed them, until their cities and towns act as massive public gardens full of food to be caught, picked, and eaten at any time

as there are also a lot of (very politically powerful) nomadic groups, they also do this, albeit not always so directly. they'll have specific shoals or "runs" of fish that they will follow behind and take care of, managing as they move through the ocean in accordance with the seasons. this is where the whales still factor in, because the nomadic groups will also take care of the whales, purposefully keeping an eye on their pods and taking care of them and, when the time comes, being choosy and particular in which whale they select at any given time to be hunted, harvested, and eaten.

(there's also the way in which food is distributed and managed throughout the merkingdom, since some food is indeed shipped and moved throughout the different areas, but that's a different story for another time and i've talked enough)

BUT!!!! thank you so much and thank you for enjoying all of this that ive been making with miri, and thank you for giving me an excuse to talk more about her <3

#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#asks #Anonymous #Monster Prom #Miranda Vanderbilt #i am wholeheartedly a ''miri is smart'' person because i mean. cmon.#of course shes smarter than she looks you dont just trip your way into knowing how to play people like a fiddle #manipulation requires cleverness!! knowing how to use it well just comes with the station she has #(honestly to the point where i think her playing stupid is just. well. that! playing stupid!)#(and sometimes just Playing too tbh. she seems to enjoy just. being silly. more than fully fitting into her role)#(which from what i can tell she DOES fit into her role VERY well)#(and absolutely means that yeah no miri acting the way she does isnt just because she has no idea how to be any other way)#(and is instead a deliberate choice that she's making for some other reason)#(which continues to frustrate me because CANON STOP MOVING TOWARDS ''NO SHES JUST STUPID'')

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talon-dragonbeast · 1 month

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on seasonal instincts and dragon customs

[obligatory warning for brief mentions of animal reproductive habits and human sexuality. nothing explicit though.]

okay, so i haven't done any research on this, so apologies for any inaccuracies. but you know how in the animal kingdom, many behavioural patterns are seasonal? think of migrations, hibernation, reproduction... almost every animal's habits are impacted by their environment in one way or another. of course, dragons are no different.

i get urges to brumate in winter, when i get really slow and tired if the temperature drops below a certain level. when the weather is warmer i just want to bask in the sun for hours, absorbing as much sunlight as i can. and now that spring is here, im getting inexplicable urges to care for someone, preferably a young one.

ive never wanted children, at least not of my own. i am not parental in any way; i like to care for people but only in a big sibling/weird aunt/"dont-tell-your-mum-we're-doing-this" way. i love children, especially young ones, but raising one myself? having to care for someone all day, every day? getting pregnant? no fucking way.

im asexual, and aromantic. always have been, always will be. im pretty sex repulsed (hearing/reading about sex is fine, but the mere thought of doing something like that myself makes me nauseous) and romance indifferent; ive never, ever wanted a partner. i know of some beings in this community who hate the thought of having a human partner, but indulge in the idea of having a mate if they were in their 'type's body. however, that doesnt happen to me. wether in human or dragon form, i dont ever want to get romantically or sexually involved with another individual. im a solitary dragon, i dont need another to be happy.

however. spring is the season of blossoming, of abundance, of birth. in spring, new animals are born into this world, fragile baby dragons that need to be nurtured and protected. i do not have the urge to have my own dragonets, but i still get the instinct of caring for them. i long for a nest, for a little breath synchronized with mine, for a young heartbeat lying next to me. i would protect the dragonets, i would guarantee nothing bad ever happened to them. i would make sure theyre happy and well fed. i would teach them things about the world and tell them stories of our kind. and when the time came for them to leave the nest (to go with their real mothers perhaps), it would be with a promise to return soon.

dragon customs is something i dont talk about because i dont really have any noemata for how my species would interact with each other. i dont know if this is because my species is truly solitary or if i am the exception. besides, i dont like to speculate about something without having concrete evidence, even if its about something as subjective as a kintype. but seeing my instincts regarding springtime, i think its safe to say that my dragon species has a mating season. more than that, we probably care about our young communally, seeing as someone as isolated as myself has such strong instincts of nurturing dragonets.

im really interested to hear if somebeing has similar instincts in the spring, or even in a different season. and if so, please share any tips of how to deal with it because its driving me up the wall :}

#whispers of the dragon #dragonkin #otherkin #nonhuman #therian #dragon therian #my writings

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art-of-mathematics · 5 months

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i need to rant again (sorry in advance).

I feel very sad right now.

As I concretized what aspects I suffer under the most: it is primarily isolation and having nothing to do all day.

so i searched for volunteering opportunities.

(i want to volunteer) but seeing the offers for volunteering work almost being entirely a social volunteering activity made me very sad and frustrated.

and although i find that things like soup kitchen for homeless people are important and i value them - i do not know how i could integrate myself in there to do any activity where i would not just be entirely overchallenged by all social interactions stuffs. while also being bored of the tasks one could do here.

I searched further for any regular or any activities for autistic people or people with huge social inabilities- and it makes me so sad and angry... finding just the few scarce options i have also heard of already- occupational therapy, "work" therapy (which is very similar to occupational therapy), and then thats it for regular options.

for less regular options there is also very few options...

for volunteering work one also needs to be merely self-organized. and damn...

i just wish i had a job that i at least enjoy half of the tasks to do - and anything to do.

i hate being in this shitass huge city and having the same options as someone living in a damn tiny village... or forest.

//sarcastic: in a forest there might even be more options for me to engage with my environment than in this shitasshuge city of additional sensory torture...

it makes me so sad.

it feels futile.

like literally. the isolation and having nothing non-pointless to do make overcoming the shitty trauma far more difficult.

What can I do?

Talking with myself is an option I find even more depressing than just talking to no one for days.

its not even that i slightly like the isolation.

i hate it. i dread it! i prefer to live with some people in a shared flat. but this isolation chamber. i cannot take it.

but i mean: i am extremely privileged for living on my own, renting an apartment solely for myself. But I do not want to live for myself. It is isolating, debilitaing so. In a shared apartment there at least happens social interaction randomly, and I could even do the tasks I do already and would help someone with what i do. But this way its depressingly futile and lifeless.

I feel useless and like a damn burden.

This apartment I am living in is like the final storage facility of radiocative substances: its far away from any engagement places, on a mountain on the outermost edge of the city, with the only function to store and isolate the trash for many years and decades so it will finally fall apart one day, and does not annoy anyone with its existence.

damn. i feel so sad. i have very huge trouble sleeping since a week. i am tired. i am exhausted. breathing shallowly. cant focus. just mind fog. just shittt

am tired but cant sleep

can only complain.

i hate this futile attempt to "pull myself up by my own bootstraps". it is not only seriously energy-consuming, but also futile. But what else can i do?

fuck it. i am tired. yet cant sleep.

and dat thought circle now repeats itself 1000 times until i either get so angry or stressed that whatever might happen - or i might be able to navigate my fucked up mind into a different semi-disturbing thought topic.

i am tired.

yes, you are tired? tell me more about it. does it feel as if u got bread as brain?

yeah. totally. the bread is crumbling.

and what do we want to do with the crumbs now?

perhaps collect da crumbs, put it in a bowl (but not a holebowl) and then insert a liquid and stomp it very hard multiple times until it becomes dough again.

yay. we bake a tiny new brain bread now, dont we?

yeas, we do.

at least in our imagination it is that easy to get into a slightly better mental space - for few minutes - but that is a topic for another chapter.

no seriously. i have to come up with this kind of nonsense all the time because if i confuse myself with this kind of silly nonsense the shitty thoughts, feeling and memories get swirled around - and then they are less painful.

swirling the awful brain crumbs makes them feel as if they are disappeared - but only for the moment when i swirl the shit around. if the brain crumbsmsettle again it all starts to be unbearable again.

seriously this is exhausting. and why? damn why do i have to do this?

arent there more helpful/functional ways to deal with it?

if someone of you humans reading this knows a realitistic other functional compensation method, please feel free to tell me.

I am "am Ende meines Lateins" as that German saying goes. I have approached the end of having clues/ideas. Perhaps I have to accept I approached the invitable: the last station to Burnout and Boreout all at once!

the ring of running in a hamster wheel closes itself as the hamster approached light speed and time began to stand still.

as time stood still, all that was existent was the dead hamsters haunting memories,

still haunting him after he already succesfully died in one of his recursive nightmares.

but uhh. recursive nightmares are of a special kind... i assure you... but dont be sure about anything, thats for sure...

.. and that, my dear human beans, that is true irony.

legendary.

at least i can laugh about it - somehow. anyhow. whatever.

#rant #complaining #self talk or such

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arinavah · 2 years

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hi arina! how are u doing? i've read your life update before about how you may not be able to do art stuffs due to life circumstances, seeing you open your shop now really brightens my heart! i'm also an artist in a kind of tough situation where i dont have much choice and might have to give up drawing or have difficulty continuing. im wondering how you got thru it? your art updates give me strength and hope! but if u dont feel like sharing, i totally understand. hoping you best and thank you!!

I'm sorry I'm answering this so late, talking about my current life always ruins my mood. (this will be a long whining post, I'm very upset right now so I need to speak out)

Probably we are in different situations, unlike you, drawing is the only thing I can do now. I've mentioned here before that my grandma had a stroke this summer, my parents live in another city, they come here from time to time. Me and grandma live in Moscow, sooooo, generally, disabled grandma is MY responsibility most of the time. Even though she's making some slow progress in recovering, she's still mostly bed ridden, she can't take care of herself, she can't get up from the bed without help, she barely walks, etc., etc. So we can't leave her alone, and taking care about such helpless person, 24/7 IS HARD. She can wake us up several times at night to go to toilet or whatever, during the day she always wants something and we have to serve her, it really exhaustes me. (I half jokingly say that I unexpectedly became mother of 76 y.o. child, but I've always been child-free, so guess what I'm feeling right now)

Good news: I have some time to draw. To be honest drawing is the only sphere of my life I still can control, it's the only thing bringing me joy. And thankfully some people buy my merch so I can earn some money even in these circumstanses.

Bad news: I lost all freedom I'd had, I can't go anywhere without hiring nurse, I have much less time for work and drawing, I can't properly relax after long day, in fact I can NEVER relax, I can't meet with friends, I can't travel, I have to cancel work trips. Even simple mandane things became very difficult and even impossible because of all these restrictions. I can't find proper words to describe how those restrictions of my freedom make me depressed and devastated, right now my mental health is the worst it's ever been. I cry almost every day, I became hysterical and agressive, I hate my life so much, that the mere thought of spending the rest of my youth living my family's life, not MY OWN LIFE makes me want to kms. At the moment I control nothing in my life, I can't decide where to live, what to do, where to go, absolutely nothing. Probably I will never find a partner, because dating in these life contitions is impossible. Probably I will die alone without any love and friends. Maybe my only destiny is to take care of disabled person.

I'm trying to accept the fact that my life's ended, that I won't have any freedom and any new people around me till she passes away or till one of my parents will take full charge of taking care of her (it will happen in 5 years or so, they have work to finish in another city).

I spend my days solving my family's problems, my grandma's health problems, selling some merch to earn money and drawing some silly things just to ✨feel something✨. So me being able to draw something in difficult circumstanses is not some heroic thing, I'm not overcoming myself to make art desprite everything, what I'm doing is just...escapism... I want to get lost in my little drawings or in little stories for some time to forget about everything bothering me. Honestly, I'm very happy that I haven't lost ability to draw after everything happened to me this year.

Guys.... sorry for whining, but 2022 ruined my mental state completely... Political situation (fucking Russia 💀💀💀), family situation, I just feel so much hatered for this world, for this universe where none of my dreams will ever come true, where I control nothing, where I have to live someone else's life, where I have no freedom, where I have to be silent, where I have to look at my government's crimes and be silent, where I can't plan anything, where I can't love who I want (yesterday they accepted "lgbt propaganda" ban law), where I have to live the rest of my life in the country I hate, with a government I hate, isolated, lonely, constricted, attached to disabled person.

My parents keep telling me it's temporary, they don't want me to be a nurse for the rest of my life, everything is gonna be okay, they will solve everything. I don't believe them. Maybe I'm overdramatising, maybe if I get a therapy I'll feel better and less pessimistic about my future, but for now... I feel terrible. So, if drawing makes me feel a little bit better, then I'll continue to draw.

#Ask #Sorry for whining

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nanjokei · 7 months

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ok heres what ive been thinking of recently

honestly its just raw emotion, i dont really mean to upset anyone or say that they're consuming anything wrong. i'll try to word things as carefully as possible (or ill mince meat as much as possible idk) because i really do not like when people assume ill intent in my words just because i use blunt language at times. (sorry its just how i talk. im not mad at you. im not yelling at you online)

but honestly i have had a long thought about it.

i'm incredibly tired of the lack of curiousity a lot of new vocaloid fans have towards the culture.

statements like "boomers expect me to know songs from 2007" or whatever. i mean, no, no one is Expecting anything from you, that is absolutely a strawman you have invented based on someone merely being surprised (often in jest even), but it's also like. you, who actively identify yourself as a big fan, have never even thought to look back? there are so many playlists and medleys you can consult. it is a few searches away, i don't care. you are not five years old. and if you feel lost you can always ask people there are always so many people just waiting to introduce someone to even one or two old songs they like.

like is it bad that i think you should be a little more passionate if you consider yourself a geek?

what is wrong with me being surprised if you don't know sakura no ame or saihate or whatever. what is wrong with me thinking that it's weird that even with the biggest producers in the world, you have 0 curiousity to look into their old works?

it's not me being old and cranky, i just think it's a little bad and disrespectful that a lot of new fans just see older songs as inherently worse or not worth their time and use them as a strawman to invent some kind of boomer boogeyman who is going after them for not knowing shiningray or celluloid or ikelenka or whatever. even though honestly you should know them. even if you only listen to it once and decide you don't like it, or hell even just know they exist without listening.

like, songs with millions of views on nnd, i want you to at least familiarize yourself, especially if the producers are still active! at the very least!

whats wrong with me wanting people to enjoy amazing music that built up an entire subculture? made by passionate people who didn't even know the scene could last as long as it did? what's wrong with wanting to share my love with another generation?

i'm not denying that there may be outliers who are rude to other fans, but come the fuck on, stop acting coy about it. you should at least be able to recognize one of either the title, sound or thumbnail of the top 100 songs from 2009. not even KNOW them, just recognize, like is that too much to ask?

like, it's something i personally struggle to understand in general when it comes to interests i'm passionate about. i'm not a pushy person by the way, i don't go around heckling people not even as a joke, so i am not even letting anyone put me in the box of "probably acted pushy and didn't realize and is now mad at the other party". like, this is not directed at casual fans. i am just thinking stuff like "why are you hostile towards the idea of learning more about your interest?" and "why are you hostile towards passionate people who want more people to get into what they like?" and "why pigeonhole yourself? learning more means more fun for you."

because what bothers me the most is that eventually it turns into accusations of "gatekeeping" and "elitism" if anyone voiced their opinion about things. i know how im wording it makes it sound like it personally happened to me but it hasn't it is just what i have observed over the years as someone who gets super into stuff and tries to immerse myself and sees other people get into fights whether its the """elitist""" or the """casual""".

why is it like this? i cannot see why wanting to share is elitism or gatekeeping. maybe elitism sure if the other party feels like they're being targeted for no reason (and im not saying it does not happen). but gatekeeping? why is it gatekeeping? wanting to share what you like with others is gatekeeping? isn't that if you told people NOT to get into it and hid it away?

like, im saying it properly so no one misconstrues what i am saying, but i understand not everyone wants or has the energy to become a big fan of something. there are so many things where i am a very casual fan!! but even then i respect the thing i am into by also acknowledging its history at the very least even if i might not ever play/watch/read/etc all of it or at all.

so like... is it bad? is it bad that i think others should have this respect too? i know this is an issue of low empathy or whatever. i have to run around in circles to understand others. i "get" it, but im also like, why cant they be like me? so i want you to know in no uncertain terms that I GET IT. I GET PEOPLE'S POSITIONS HERE. i have been thinking about this general topic my entire life

so in the end it just turned into a general sort of thing. but yeah, i don't understand why people get so defensive and act so persecuted. am i wrong in my point of view? am i just being an elitist after all? like i simply see it as "i want people to enjoy it too."

like, i thought about this stuff after seeing how passionate ado is about vocaloid. like, she is only 21 years old. she is as old as or slightly older than many new fans (though she had liked vocaloid since elementary school). she is the biggest pop star in japan right now and yet her passion has not waned. not to mention so many younger fans that do have that curiousity too. i used to think its not possible, but i see them in the YT comments, going "im 16 but i really like this era of music" and such.

like, please just open your heart. ignore the boogeymen you're hallucinating and just enjoy slowly... it doesn't have to be a study session. naturally you will just discover more songs you like from those eras

#rambles

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venchyl · 1 year

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STATES

omg ven talks abt states!! yes bcs i think they're pretty great

WHAT ARE STATES?

states are who you currently are. the person you see in the mirror, the thoughts you have, the actions you make, the behaviours you exhibit, this is its own state. It is a state that someone can embody. Its like clothing, you can wear this outfit and you are presenting yourself within it and the impression it gives you about yourself and others. but much like clothing, there's more than one outfit, yet people seemingly stick to one state (although we change states in our lives as we grow). think of it as just your mindsets in life.

but ven, does this mean that I'm in the wrong state?!

you can manifest regardless of what state you are in, you can do challenges, methods, affirm, whatever you want and you'll get it, but states is embodying that already. states is acknowledging that you are this person with this and that and you always have been so why care about it, right?

I.e if you think you're not rich and can't buy whatever you want you don't have to check your wallet to think that. you just know it. that, is a state. you are in the state of poverty, you don't act as though someone who has money but rather further the idea that you don't.

HOW DO I IDENTIFY WHAT STATE I AM IN?

easy. you should already be able to tell from your thoughts. what are some things you want to have, your desires? now think, why is it that you don't have them now?

to you, not having this desire is the norm.

"I can't do that because I don't have the money."

"I can't manifest them because they don't love me."

"I can't be pretty because I was born this way."

you are living in the state of 'I can't xyz', the state of someone single, someone poor, someone unappealing. you take this state and you don't question it because it's you. It is what you view as yourself.

HOW DO I BREAK THIS CYCLE, HOW DO I EMBODY A NEW STATE?

start living from that state. experience life from that state. stop taking a backseat and just merely trying to be rich, trying to be pretty, trying to have your desires. BE that person.

from now on, I want you to relax. Tell yourself you do have that desire. "I am rich", "I am pretty", "I have an sp". Then, leave it. Move on. You have these things why search for them?

you are the "I AM". you are all of it. if you are rich, you are rich. Stop. Questioning. Things. Stop saying "but I dont-" no. It doesn't matter if you don't have the supply for it or of it doesn't make sense. This isn't about logic. Logic isn't a universal law and I've spoken about this. It is man-made, created by other people to explain things and you're doing it to yourself. Stop it. And become who you are.

#affirmations #law of assumption #manifestation #mental diet #self concept #subliminals #spirituality #neville goddard #law of manifestation #edward art #eiypo #law of expectancy #law of vibration #law of detachment #law of states

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kozykricket · 9 months

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Brewing and Food Thoughts (#1 - Potions)

ah, finally, something to motivate me to write - procrastinating writing something for school!

So, here we are! Brewing is in a weird spot in minecraft right now, yeah? We can all agree there. its not in a terrible spot like enchanting, but its not in a good spot either. most potions are irrelevant. I'm not necessarily going to spend a lot of time on what makes good potion effects, but i AM going to talk about how i would change the mechanics to -Promote using potions -Include creativity in the ideally WHIMSICAL and EXPERIMENT-BASED brewing process -change the brewing process to just, be more balanced and coherent lets first talk about potion effects and consumables a bit though. So well, i think people use potions more if the game nudges them to. Razbuten made a good video on why he doesn't use consumables in games, and I think its a good video. I think you can apply that to potions, because the only ones people really use often are slow falling for the dragon, fire resistance for fortresses/the nether in general, and water breathing for ocean activities. the game nudges you to use them because... its definitely a disadvantage if you arent using a potion here, rather than merely an advantage to be using one. So I think thats something the games balance could have some more design around. Have certain moments where the player thinks "ah, i should definitely use a potion here!" although... then they have to go through the mildly tedious process of using potions, which... yeah, theres a lot of friction to actually using potions. I say make the benefit feel substantial and worth it, or make potions easier to manage But honestly, I want to spend more time talking about the basis for a whimsical, experiment-based brewing rework everyone and their mother has thought about potions and cauldrons - they're very connected in every other piece of media and such. Yet unless you're in bedrock, they dont have any relation. I think... the cauldron, or perhaps a cauldron with a slot for fuel under it, would be a perfect way to make a new sort of brewing stand. Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Lets talk fuel, first. They made brewing stands require blaze powder to brew potions at all, which was... odd, because it was an update later that they made brewing stands appear in the overworld... i dont think it was a great way to balance things. theres now like, 3 vibe checks to make sure you've been to a nether fortress specifically. blaze rods to craft one (unless you're lucky), blaze powder as fuel, and nether warts for almost every potion what if i want to make a splash water bottle though? what if i wanted to make some hypothetical weak... pre nether wart potions? Well, it just wouldnt be possible if we keep blaze powder as the fuel. or as the ONLY fuel. which is where i take some inspiration from the mod "Extra Alchemy" which lets you use campfires to fuel brewing stands slowly, and say... different sources of heat should be able to fuel cauldrons, and the hotter it is, the more consistent it would be, and perhaps it would even be a gate towards more powerful potions. Heat-based progression. soul fire could be somewhat of a sidegrade, even, making potions more potent but always adding a very potent negative effect, for example Anyways, to the actual brewing: Whats something you see in a lot of typical "witch brewing potions in her evil cauldron" tropes and such? Strange ingredients. Odd mushrooms, some frog legs, some strange dusts and oozes. I think applying that to potions... would be great. What I mean by that is ... imagine tinkers construct, but for potions. You add certain items into the cauldron, and they increase some stats for it. I mean, these stats could correlate to the effects that it comes out with. You could have so many different like, stats of a potion, like the max amount of effects it is able to obtain from the ingredients, the potency, the length, and whether the effects are negative or not. (1/2)

#minecraft ideas #jake ramblings

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pastanest · 1 year

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<— masterlist for previous/next chapters —>

A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post

warning: mentions of suicidal thoughts

Dont Say Goodbye - Chapter Four: Listen, It’s The Voice Of Reason.

Things are a little awkward between you and Daryl when you step out of your cell the next morning. Despite nothing new being revealed, merely addressing the rift between you is enough to change everything. Up until now, the two of you have somewhat picked up your friendship from where it left off, like those years of absence never happened, because neither of you wanted to talk about the in between, you just wanted to enjoy being back in each other’s presence for a little while. Now, it’s floating alongside you whenever you’re with him, it’s breathing down your neck and presumably his whenever you’re apart, making you sweat and fidget with the weight of the unsaid. You never thought you’d see the day where you enjoyed standing at a fence and stabbing walkers - which is the common lingo for the dead amongst these people, you’ve learnt - but it’s a lot easier to deal with these feelings on your own than when he’s there.

This morning, Daryl asked you if you were alright with Aurora going up to the watchtower with him. Obviously, the idea of your four year old daughter being up at that height didnt thrill you, but you knew that she would be safe with Daryl, and that Aurora would much rather hang out with Daryl than anyone else; she has really connected with him in the short time they’ve known each other. So, you made her promise that she would stay sitting against the wall and she would not venture towards the edge, and Daryl promised you he would make sure she kept her promise.

“Mister Daryl-“

“Ya dont gotta call me that.” Daryl cuts off the little girl, hesitant to admit that he actually really enjoys her company.

For the entirety of yesterday morning, all he heard was questions directed to ‘Mister Daryl’ and he didnt have the heart to tell her she doesnt need to refer to him like he’s some figure of authority. He cant deny it was somewhat endearing, and as mildly irritating as it was to be bombarded with questions about every flower or crop they walked by, every cloud she saw, every bird, and every goddamn tree, he found those questions somewhat endearing, too.

“Okay. What do I gotta call you?” Aurora asks, copying his exact phrasing, which tugs at Daryl’s heart strings enough for him to take his gaze away from the view ahead and look over his shoulder at her as she sits against the wall with her legs crossed, staring at him with a serious and curious frown.

“Jus’ Daryl.” He clarifies, turning back to the view ahead, focussing his attention back on his job as he readjusts his forearms against the railing.

“Okay. Daryl, is that a crossbow?” Aurora questions, and Daryl nods.

Though he wonders how such a young girl recognises a weapon by name, he doesnt ask, because part of him doesnt want to know, in case she learnt it from whoever the hell her dad is. The last thing Daryl wants to think about is you and some random prick talking about his preferred hunting weapon.

But unfortunately for Daryl, a four year old doesnt need to be prompted to carry on talking.

“My favourite bedtime stories are the ones about the crossbow man.” Aurora says, somewhat absentmindedly, and somehow she knows how to say just enough to get Daryl interested, but not enough to give a full explanation, meaning he has questions to ask her now.

“Who’s the crossbow man?” He really, really hopes that Aurora isnt about to go into a long, detailed story about her father.

Just focus on the wind, the horizon, the fields, some zen shit. Maybe if he focuses hard enough, he can tune Aurora out like he effortlessly manages to tune out everyone else. But deep down, Daryl knows he doesnt want to do that, because this little girl already reminds him so much of you. An echo to a child long forgotten, who wore his brother’s oversized hand-me-downs and constantly trailed after the girl that had that damn smile.

“He doesnt have a name, he’s from Mama’s stories. She has a lot of stories about him. She says that when she was a li’l older than me, she got lost in the woods a lot, and the crossbow man would come save her. But he was a kid then, too. He has a super cool bike, and she used to like riding on the back. But those ones arent my favourites.” Aurora’s lack of description leaves much to be desired, but Daryl cant help recognising those details. There’s only one way to know for sure.

“Wha’s yer favourite story?”

In fairness, two seventeen year olds getting fake ID’s to sneak into a bar, probably wasnt yours or Daryl’s smartest idea. It wasnt like the two of you needed a bar to get access to alcohol, the first time you’d gotten drunk you and Daryl were far from the legal age, but what else would two teenagers do in the empty house of an alcoholic while said-alcoholic was off with some waitress? Daryl was hardly going to regret his first taste of alcohol when it landed him his first and only kiss with you, which happened in a drunken mess of giggles about wanting to be each other’s first kiss. But, the two of you were only fourteen then, and three years later you went looking for the authentic drinking experience. Obviously, you wouldnt dream of venturing to a bar without Daryl, and your faith in him somewhat blinded you to the danger.

When some sleazy middle aged bastard came up too close behind you and touched your waist, you flinched towards Daryl, who abruptly ended his conversation with the barman to scowl at the guy next to you.

“Back up, man.” Daryl warned, voice cold as he gently took ahold of your hand and moved you to stand behind him.

“Or what?” The creep tested, sneering down at your protector, who he was stupid enough to view as nothing more than a kid. Some scruffy redneck who’d pick a fight just to lose it. Anyone who thought that of Daryl Dixon back then was bound to regret it.

“My favourite part is what the crossbow man says to the man right then! The crossbowman says ‘or, I’ll shove your head so far up your ass that your wife will be kissing shit stains, but something tells me she wont see a difference’!” Aurora giggles excitedly at the line she’s memorised, she even recites it with an accent that sounds like Daryl’s. He considers telling her not to cuss, but he decides to let it slide, because technically it’s his cussing that she’s replicating, and he cant really fault her for that.

“Anyways, after that the crossbow man beats up the creepy guy, but that makes the bad man’s friends come over. And Mama goes and calls for help, and the crossbow man’s sidekick comes and helps.”

Daryl struggles to hold back a laugh at that, but the smile that breaks across his face is impossible to hide. You referred to Merle as his sidekick? Oh, if Merle was still around to hear that, it’d make Daryl’s whole year.

“And the crossbow man’s sidekick helps them get outta there, and then Mama and the crossbow man walk through the woods together back to Mama’s house.”

Daryl remembers that walk to your place like it was yesterday, Aurora’s narration perfectly coincides with the replay going on in his head.

He couldnt tell if it was the sun or his own fury, but his entire body was burning. He was so angry that day, angry at you for calling Merle, angry that he couldnt win the fight on his own, angry that the fight he couldnt win was one that he was fighting to protect you. And of course, you knew all of that, and you also knew Daryl wouldnt listen to a single word you said, so you both walked back to your family home in complete silence, except for the lingering sounds of various bugs flying through the Georgian heat. The path back to your place was a mixture of street and woodlands, and you did your best to keep Daryl away from walking along the side of the road when he had a black eye, a split eyebrow, and bleeding knuckles. If a cop happened to drive by and see him, if his dad happened to drive by...it was your job to keep him safe in every way that you could, and you always made sure to hold yourself to that.

“Nobody else was in Mama’s house, so they didnt have to sneak through the window that time.” The kid explains, like Daryl doesnt know the story inside and out.

Your house being empty had been a massive relief considering Daryl’s injuries; he’d been limping all the way there, but that was a detail he didnt like to remember, it made him feel weak.

“Mama took care of the crossbow man, and then they had a sleepover, ‘cause the crossbow man’s dad wasnt very nice.” Hearing a child summarise one of his own memories is up there with the strangest experiences Daryl has ever had.

But Aurora is absolutely right, you did take care of him, you always did.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub while you rushed around, gathering supplies to patch him up and clean his wounds, while he focussed on calming himself down. With you right in front of him, safe and showing him the kind of love that only you ever did, it didnt take Daryl long to forget his anger. All he had to do was focus on the colour of your eyes, your concentrated frown as you cleaned his wounds and then the soft glances you’d give him as an apology for hurting him in the process. Your hand sometimes went to rest on his knee when you fixed him up, and that made Daryl’s body feel hot for an entirely different reason. You held his gaze, and then you held his hands, so familiar with cleaning his bloody knuckles that you didnt even need to look at them to do it, you just gave him that damn smile, because you knew it would distract him. It always did.

“Why’s that one yer favourite?” He asks the little girl, wondering what could possibly appeal to a four year old about that story.

Glancing over his shoulder, Daryl notices that Aurora isnt even looking at him, she’s playing with a stick she’s found.

“Because I think it’s one of Mama’s favourites too, she really likes to tell that one. It makes her face pink.”

Daryl cant help smirking at that as he turns his head back to where he’s supposed to be looking, but his eyes happen to drift down to the fence.

“Daryl?” Aurora calls, and he hums in response, too caught up in thoughts of you to prepare himself for her next question, but as soon as she says it, he knows he couldnt have prepared himself if he tried.

“Do you have a dad?” It’s such a strange question, and had anyone else asked it, Daryl would’ve been suspicious as to why they were asking, but when it’s coming from a kid, he knows the intention isnt to belittle him.

“Did have one, but he’s gone.”

Aurora processes his answer the same way she processes everything else: without much thought. “Was your dad nice?”

That definitely pulls Daryl away from thoughts of you, and he fixes his gaze on the horizon. “No. Was yers?” He regrets it as soon as it leaves his lips, but he just wants the conversation off of his own childhood as quickly as possible.

“I dont have a dad, just my mama.” Aurora says simply, but she sounds a little sad about it, like she feels she’s missing out on something but she doesnt know what.

The response confuses Daryl, and he immediately feels terrible for not asking her about her father sooner, now knowing that he has never been in her life. If her dad had left or died when Aurora was old enough to remember, she would have said something different, she would have said he was gone, or added some detail to the description of the dad she remembered. But she doesnt remember him, because he was never there. Guilt swirls in Daryl’s stomach, making him feel sick for holding a grudge against you over something he had clearly known nothing about. Of all people, he shouldnt make assumptions about you like that. You deserve better. And you deserve better than whatever asshole didnt stick around to raise his kid.

“Daryl?” A little voice pulls him from his thoughts again, and Daryl hums once more. “You should think up a nickname for me.”

This causes the crossbowman to frown, and he turns around completely to face your daughter. “Why?”

Aurora shrugs. “Mama calls me Roar, and you should call me something too. You cant just call me what everyone else calls me, we’re best friends, it doesnt work if you do that.”

How could words as sweet and innocent as that not make Daryl smile?

“Since when are you ‘n’ me best friends?” He asks, but he makes it very obvious in his tone of voice that he’s joking.

Aurora beams up at him. “Since now!”

Daryl chuckles. “Alright, wha’d ya want me to call you, then?”

Aurora rolls her eyes dramatically, exactly like you do. “The whole point is that you have to come up with it! After lunch, Im gonna go hang out with Carol again, give you some time to think about it. By tomorrow, I expect results.”

Daryl can tell that she is absolutely just reciting words and phrases that she’s heard from you in entirely different settings, and trying to apply them in a way that makes sense to her, while also making her sound like a professional four year old as she points her stick at him. And the crossbow man is hardly in the position to disagree with his new best friend.

Throughout the morning, you’ve noticed Maggie slowly travelling from one end of the fence to the other, edging her way closer to you. Naturally, you were curious about her intentions, but when she ends up right beside you and doesnt give you more than a smile as a greeting, you put your curiosity to rest.

Stretching your arms out, you sigh, feeling your elbows and shoulders aching from practising the same stabbing action all morning.

Maggie chuckles. “You get used to it eventually.

You smile at her. “As fun as this job is-“ Your sarcasm brings another laugh from Maggie. “-I dont think it’s my calling.”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “Would your calling have somethin’ to do with Daryl, by any chance?”

Your eyes widen, darting up to the watchtower and seeing him scowling off into the distance, like the dramatic star of an action movie. Realising that Maggie is clearly onto you, you sigh in defeat.

“Is it that obvious?” The embarrassment almost pains you, you never imagined you’d so easily be transported back to the mindset of a lovesick teenager.

Maggie smiles at you sympathetically. “It wont be to him, so try not to worry. You knew him before, right?”

You nod, the two of you nonchalantly continuing to stab through animated corpses as you talk.

“Yeah, since we were kids.”

Maggie’s eyes widen. “Sheesh, I can only imagine that man with uncontrollable hormones.”

You stop what you’re doing and stare at Maggie, your jaw almost hitting the floor, and it takes a second for her to register what she just said and she stares right back at you, until the both of you burst into howling laughter that leaves you hunched over.

“I meant mood swings! Not that!” Maggie clarifies, and you nod along as you wipe your tears, having guessed what she’d been intending to refer to, but still finding the alternative endlessly hilarious.

“Well, to be honest it was a challenge to deal with both…” Your gazes lock, and shocked silence falls, you unable to believe what you just admitted and Maggie stunned by the revelation, before you’re both wheezing and crying all over again.

The two of you are still wiping away tears as you venture to the serving table for lunch. Just when one of you calms down, you look back at the other and lose it again. Inside jokes, you’d forgotten about those, too.

As soon as Maggie spots Daryl leaving the watchtower with Aurora at his side, she disappears to find Glenn, making sure that you have no choice but to talk with Daryl after the conversation you just had. With nobody currently at the serving table with Carol, and a decent distance to cross before Daryl and Aurora reach you, you decide to go and talk with the woman that reminds you oddly of yourself.

“Do you enjoy serving people meals everyday?” You ask her curiously, and Carol laughs.

“Nothing could bring me more joy!” She says sarcastically, causing you to chuckle, and you’re about to ask her something else, but Carol seems to have questions of her own. “You and Maggie looked like a pair of giggling schoolgirls, what was that about?”

You smile at her. “Oh, nothing, just stupid stuff.”

Carol raises an eyebrow. “Would that stupid stuff have anything to do with Daryl, by any chance?”

You bury your face in your hands, shaking your head. “Jesus, does everybody know!?!”

Carol gives you a sweet smile. “Everyone here knows Daryl, and he’s never willingly sat down to eat with anyone, let alone after only being in their presence for a day!”

You cross your arms over your chest, nodding and glancing to the side to make sure Daryl isnt in earshot. “It’s not like Im a total stranger though, it’s different.”

Carol tilts her head to the side as she looks at you, a knowing expression on her face. “You’re right, it is different.”

“Wha’s different?” Daryl asks as he approaches, Aurora taking a brief moment to talk to Boss about her day so far. Obviously, a dog cant respond like a person, but for the majority of her short life, the only company Aurora has had has been dogs, so she treats them like people, like friends, because they are.

You try to smile at him as innocently as you can, but you cant think up an excuse quick enough. Thankfully, Carol comes in clutch.

“The stew! It’s a little different today, you'd be surprised what a few carrots can change!” She exclaims, and when Daryl scoffs and takes a bowl, Carol subtly winks at you.

A new kind of tension fills the air between you and Daryl at lunch. The tension yesterday was heated, this morning it was awkward, but now it feels...soft. His eyes arent as cold towards you, and you watch as he interacts with Aurora on the opposite side of the table, the two of them seeming to have somehow clicked over the past few hours. She’s making him smile so much, and Daryl seems truly relaxed, like he’s at home with her, and he’s getting there with you. There’s still a rift between you, but it feels as though outer forces are working on bringing you together, even when you’re apart for however long.

“How’s workin’ on the fence?” Daryl asks as the two of you take your empty bowls over to the piles of dirty dishes.

“It’s alright, just not sure it’s something that I want to keep doing.” You say, still feeling the growing aches in your joints and knots forming in your back.

Daryl doesnt question you, but the way he looks at you is enough to encourage you to elaborate. Conversations like this happened one too many times when you were teenagers. Every job you got, up until the very last one, you decided you hated within a week and did everything in your power to get fired. You got tired of being in the same place all the time, seeing the same people, saying the same shit over and over again, and eventually the money just wasnt worth the agony of it all. Teenage-you had far less patience.

“You know me, being shut in somewhere is my own personal hell, same as you. Working on the fences is like staring at the walls keeping me in, regardless of how good it feels to be safe here.” You explain, and Daryl nods, fully understanding.

“Got any idea what you wanna do instead?” The two of you head back over to the table, to Aurora, who is once again having an in-depth, one sided conversation with Boss.

“I dont know, might take up some shifts on watch.” You smirk at Daryl, and a smile curls at the corner of his mouth.

“That so?” He teases, and you beam at him.

“Just imagine how lucky you’d be to spend even more time with me!” Your every word is dripping with sarcasm, making Daryl scoff and shake his head at you.

“Oh, Mama, I want to hang out with Carol now if she wants me to, Daryl has a mission that he has to do alone.” Aurora chirps, and you cant help but laugh as you look up at Daryl, about to ask what this ‘mission’ is, until Carol’s laugh joins yours.

“Actually, I think Hershel is looking for you, he wants to give Aurora a checkup now that you’ve both settled in. He can check over your dogs too, if you like.” Carol smiles sweetly as she picks up some of the dirty dishes and takes them over to the unlucky bastard on dish duty.

You take Aurora’s hand. “C’mon then, let’s go see Doctor Hershel.”

Your little girl nods, hopping off the bench at the table and waving at Daryl with her free hand. “Bye best friend!”

He waves back at her, despite the very short distance between them making it somewhat unnecessary. However, you are very much caught off guard by Aurora’s words, and you gasp at her.

“I thought I was your best friend?!” You question dramatically, eyes darting between your daughter and Daryl.

“Guess ya got fired from that job, too.” Daryl teases, sounding almost cocky, and your jaw drops. Did he really just make a joke, and at your expense?

“Oh, Dixon, I will wipe the floor with that smug ass face of yours!” You threaten playfully, and Daryl tips his nose up at you.

“Naw, ya cant be late for the Doc. Run along.” And then Daryl mother fucking Dixon waves you off with his hand, an unprecedented degree of sass radiating from him, while you stand there, utterly stunned. This prick really hasnt changed since you last saw him.

For the entirety of the short walk back into the prison, your mind is spinning. Have you really broken through Daryl’s harsh exterior already? Your relationship is still far from restored to its previous standard, but it is dangerously close to getting there. How is that even possible?

“I told Daryl my favourite story about the crossbow man.” Aurora says matter-of-factly, halting you dead in your tracks. You crouch down in front of her in the middle of the cell block.

“Aurora, why would you-“ You begin, but your daughter cuts you off.

“‘Cause it’s him, isnt it Mama?” She guesses, her intelligence racing far beyond her years, and at the cost of your dignity.

“How did you know?” You ask her, unable to fathom how she figured this out, considering you’d gone to expert lengths to assure her that ‘the crossbow man’ had no name, no physical description, nothing. Not just because thinking about him in too much detail would wound your heart beyond repair, but also to make him seem as much like a mythical, fictional superhero as you possibly could.

“You knew his name, he has the same cowboy accent that you use when you pretend to be him in the stories, and he has a crossbow. I remembered it from when you drawed one.” Aurora explains, like her expert deductions are no big deal, and like her incorrect past-tense of ‘draw’ isnt absolutely adorable.

You close your eyes in a pained blink. There is not even the slightest chance that Daryl would fail to realise the crossbow man was him, especially since Aurora told him a story that you know for a fact he’ll remember, as it was one of the more dramatic events of your teenage years. The shift in him, the newfound comfort in talking to you, the evaporation of the slight icy glare in those eyes, it was all because of your daughter.

You take a deep breath. “He’s never gonna let me live this down.” You whisper, mostly to yourself, but Aurora frowns.

“Huh?”

Standing back up, you shake your head. “Nothing, c’mon, let’s go find Doctor Hershel.”

Eventually, you find Hershel waiting in a cell, talking with Beth, who’s feeding with Judith. After exchanging brief greetings, you go in search of your other two dogs. Boss is always at your side, so you never have to worry about him. Weirdly, even though Batman is the smallest of the pack, you worry the least about him. He has the personality of a king, he does his own thing when he has the space to do so. Humans essentially become servants to him, you just happen to be his favourite member of staff. You never knew that such tiny dogs could have such huge personalities. Batman is the most difficult to find, given his size and nature to do whatever the hell he pleases, but you find him digging a fourth hole among a cluster of holes he has already dug. You know that Bear is working, dragging things for people so that they can all get things done faster, but even if you didnt know that for certain, you wouldnt be worried. Of your three dogs, Bear has perhaps the most empty space between his ears. He just blindly adores everyone, so if he wasnt working, you’d only have to go in search of people in order to locate him. You find Bear in an entirely different area of the prison, helping Glenn move supplies from the latest run in the car outside, to a different part of the prison that seems to predominantly be used for storage. After collecting your three boys, you head back in the direction of where Hershel is waiting. On the way there, you cross paths with Rick, and he smiles at you.

“Hey (Y/N), everythin’ alright?” He greets you, and you nod.

“Everything’s great! Just heading to a doctor’s appointment!” You joke, causing Rick to laugh before you continue. “Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” You say to Rick, and then you turn to your dogs. “Go find Aurora.” You instruct, and the three of them run off, with Boss leading them.

“You’ve trained them well.” Rick compliments, and you smile.

“Thanks. I tried to prioritise teaching them things that are multipurpose, like ‘find Aurora’ can be an instruction of protection, or to send them to a specific location, or to return to a base camp.” You explain, and Rick nods, seeming impressed.

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” He asks curiously, and you smile.

“Doctor Hershel is a very nice man. I like him very much. I have never seen a person as old as him!” Aurora rambles excitedly as the five of you head back to your cell, the doctor’s appointment having been a huge success, judging by your daughter’s ongoing review for the past four minutes, and Hershel’s quick summary of ‘everyone’s just fine’ when you returned to the cell.

“Did you tell him that he’s the oldest person you’ve ever seen?” You ask, dreading the answer, because you know that you didnt teach her social etiquette of talking to older people for the same reason you didnt teach her how to communicate with babies: you didnt think any would have made it this far.

“Yes, and he laughed lots. He said he’s 105!” Aurora claims, clearly shocked, and you cant help laughing.

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow at her, going along with the playful lie that Hershel has told her.

“Really! He’s the oldest man ever!” Aurora jumps at your side, overjoyed by her discovery of the ‘oldest man ever’.

Darkness has settled when you sit down outside your cell, dangling your legs off the platform and swinging them idly. The last time you sat here was to talk to Daryl, but for some reason you’ve chosen it as your preferred location to be alone. It’s like there’s an echo of his presence still sitting beside you, and that is a source of comfort you’d forgotten the feeling of. So much has happened today, you are completely overwhelmed, not only by other people’s knowledge of feelings you hadnt even had the time to acknowledge were there, but this whole place, the everyday conversations about work and food, being in a community of people. It scares you how quickly you’ve readjusted to a life that isnt all about protecting your family for every second of everyday; has that instinct gone? Is this place going to make you weak? Whether it changes your family doesnt matter, they deserve to feel the effects of safety, but you cannot risk settling because if this falls through, it’ll be up to you to protect them all again. Such troubling thoughts can only be processed with the comfort that Daryl’s presence provides, even when he isnt physically there.

The pounding in the door continued long after the monster on the other side had gotten bored. Your body was crumbled against the bathroom door, your hand still holding the lock in case he tried to open it from the outside. The pounding was in your head rather than reality, and you eventually realised it was your own heartbeat you could hear, not the man who you were sure had just broken another of your ribs.

“Where’s your precious Daryl now, huh!?! Oh, that’s right, he doesnt give a shit about you anymore! Nobody does! And it’s all your fault! Nobody will fucking miss you!”

Tear filled, wild eyes darted around the room, petrified that he’d find a way to somehow materialise in front of you. The reassurance of being alone only came when you heard the familiar creak of his armchair as he sat in it. Your gaze fixed on the bathtub, and his yells filtered out, suddenly sounding like you were under water, and that is where you decided you wanted to be. As the tub filled, you attempted to pull your shirt up, but the agony in your chest and back protested, fresh bruises colliding with old ones and making it impossible. Being clothed would probably be better anyway. If the only thing you could control was that the last time he saw you alive, you wouldnt be naked, then you would take that. You sat against the wall, watching the water pour out of the faucet, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace at the thought of everything finally being over.

Once you got too tired to continue watching the water, you carefully pulled yourself to your feet, hissing and muffling your cries of pain by biting down on your hand. What did another set of bruises matter? If your mind hadnt shutdown months ago, you would have registered the discomfort of lowering your denim covered legs into the bath water, but the only sensations you knew then were cruel ones, so something as pathetic as discomfort didnt even cross your mind. Laying back, you closed your eyes, your ears filling with water and barely distorting the sounds that your brain had already pushed away. This would be it. Your body with all its injuries, and your life drifting away in this manner, that would surely solidify his guilt in front of a jury. Your parents wouldnt rest until he was properly punished for his crimes, and though you didnf have time to leave a note, Daryl would know the truth. The news of this event alone would tell him everything, that you had no choice. Your head fell back, you didnt even have to force it to sink. The water engulfed your face, and you waited. This was really it, you were getting out of there, forever. The first eighteen years of your life had been well lived, the people you loved would remember those, you would live on in them. As far as they knew, as far as Daryl knew, that was still who you were. A year of hell was enough to change that, you had no say in any aspect of your life, except in how it ended. Just taking one deep breath, that was all you had to do, and then you would be gone, leaving an untainted memory behind. This was you.

“Naw, it aint.”

A voice you hadnt heard in a year, but one you would never fail to recognise. He couldnt be here, there’s no way, no way in hell.

“Wont know unless ya sit up.”

Shut up!

“Make me.”

It didnt make sense. How could you possibly hear him? Daryl was likely a thousand miles away, with nothing but justified hatred in his heart for you. He wouldnt be there, he couldnt be!

“Sweet girl, ‘m always with you. Now, quit the poetic shit, and get the hell up!”

Something took ahold of your body, you swore you could feel two gentle hands lifting you by your shoulders, and you took a gasp of air. Rubbing your eyes as quickly as you could, you scrambled to look around you, unable to care about potentially worsening your injuries as your eyes searched for him. But you were still alone.

The scuffle of shoes drags you from your thoughts, and you hurry to wipe the tears from your cheeks as he sits down beside you.

“Alright?” Daryl asks, always able to see through any of your efforts to hide your tears from him.

“Yeah.” You answer, and it isnt a lie.

Honestly, you cant even tell if your tears were sad. At the time, you were devastated, your mind had conjured up a version of Daryl to talk you out of leaving forever, because that was the only thing that would work. For so many years, you were so convinced that you would never get to see him again, and here he is. With no idea of what he got you through.

“Spoke to Rick earlier, about changing my job.” You change the subject to something you actually need to talk to Daryl about.

“Wha’d he say?” He enquires.

You bite back a smile. “Rick agrees that it’d be a good idea for you to have a run partner.”

Daryl’s head snaps to the side to scowl at you. “No.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. “You’ve only just found me again, Im not gonna let you go out by yourself and lose you twice.”

Your comment was intended to be sweet and somewhat humorous, but Daryl’s silence as he stares ahead tells you it didnt land that way at all. He hangs his head, pulling at some loose threads in his jeans.

“Ya werent the one that lost.” His coldness is back, but this time in his voice rather than his eyes, though you’re sure if you could see them, daggers of ice would pierce straight through you.

“We both did.” You correct him, and Daryl shakes his head silently, looking off to the other side, away from you.

An intense awkwardness settles over the top of both of you, cementing you in place regardless of how desperately you both want to escape. Much to your surprise, Daryl speaks up first.

“Shouldnt go out there, risk yerself like that. Ya got a kid now.” Apparently, he managed to navigate away out of the tension before you.

“I had Boss protecting me out there before, I’ve been out there this entire time. All those nights we spent out in the woods as kids, I’ve always known that Im never safer than when you’re around. Besides, these days, I can handle myself.” You tell him, hoping that referring to more innocent memories of the two of you will soften him up, and when you see the tiniest sign of a smirk forming on his face, you know you were right.

“Makes a change.” He teases, referring to the same memories, but particularly the memories of you being utterly helpless without him.

Nudging him playfully, you gasp. “Shut up!”

Daryl laughs, but there’s no malevolence there, there never is when he’s with you. He’s known you so long, part of him cant let go of the countless times he saw those terrified eyes staring up at him. Protective instincts just come naturally to Daryl when you’re nearby. But he can see that you’re different now, after being on your own for so long.

“This whole thing, way the world is...it’s made ya stronger.” He observes, nodding at you. This time it’s Daryl who says something with good intentions and it’s received wrong because of things that are yet to be discussed.

You avoid his eyes. “It wasnt the world that made me stronger, I can promise you that.” Not wanting to go into this now, you stand up and start walking into your cell.

Daryl’s gaze fixes back on his lap. “Hard to hear ya say that.”

You look over your shoulder, frowning at the back of his head. “What?”

“Promise.” Daryl clarifies, sounding bitter as he stands up and storms into his cell, without sparing you a glance. That clarification, that one word, sends a sharp pain through your chest.

Stepping into your cell, you are greeted by the adorable sight of your sleeping daughter curled up in bed, with Batman whining in his sleep on the top bunk, Bear snoring quietly under the bottom bunk, and Boss sitting by the door, waiting for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face as you rub behind his ears, and he nuzzles against your arm, staring up into your eyes and understanding far more than anyone else thinks he can. Boss follows you over to the bed, and once you slip under the covers, Aurora reaches for you in her sleep. You pull her into your side, one arm wrapping around her while your other hand continues to stroke Boss as he lies on the floor beside you. How much longer can you keep this up?

The longer you wait, the worst things will get between you and Daryl. He deserves an explanation, you know that, so why is it so hard for you to provide one? He needs to know. And he will, you decide, nodding to yourself with determination as you close your eyes. Soon, he’ll know everything.

————————

explanation for this chapter title - again with the theme of each chapter title sounding like it’s said in conversation with the title of the series:

“Dont say goodbye.”

“Listen, it’s the voice of reason.”

like one is telling the other not to write things off so quickly, the voice of reason for Daryl is a four year old, who provides him with the knowledge that he was wrong in thinking (and holding a grudge over) the reader completely shutting him out of his life, and therefore prevents him from shutting her out. the voice of reason for the reader when she felt she had nothing left to live for, was Daryl, who provided her with the strength to keep fighting in order to make it out of there and back to him. overall, every voice of reason provides evidence for how much the reader truly cared for Daryl even when he wasnt in her life. at the end of the chapter, it’s the reader’s own voice of reason that makes her decide she’s going to tell Daryl the truth soon.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #x reader #imagine #imagines #headcannon #headcannons #fanfic #fanfiction

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