#I don’t mean this as a guilt trip btw reblog what you want I don’t care | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

modern-inheritance · 3 years

Note

I don’t really know where I’m going with this but do you have any Oromis/Morzan headcanons? Before or during the fall, or Oromis’ feelings towards Morzan afterwards?

I have a few! More than a few apparently, I'm just finishing this up and uh...yeah that got longer than I thought!

I’m going to do my best to leave Glaedr and Morzan’s dragon out of these because while they’re large parts of each other's lives and even maybe personalities considering how deeply bonded Riders and their dragons can be, I want to be sure I’m keeping the characters separate. Kinda like how you shouldn’t constantly group identical twins together as a single entity, ya know?

Alright let's start off with Morzan. Time for some backstory!

Modern Inheritance!Morzan

Morzan was born into a family of low level nobles. By the time Morzan was about six or seven though, the family had fallen out of favor and was struggling to keep up appearances, spending money they didn’t necessarily have on lavish items and acting increasingly narcissistic in a desperate attempt to hold onto the standing and power they once had.

Morzan probably started showing antisocial behavior around this time, mainly impulsive petty theft, inserting himself in dangerous situations, and manipulation through charm with adults and intimidation and violence with other children. Due to his family’s last shreds of political strength and their long time in the area, most of these incidents were swept under the rug or outright ignored by his family. This generally left a very angry, disgusted-with-others, burgeoning narcissistic young Morzan to his own devices.

When Morzan was chosen by his dragon, his parents were quietly glad that he wouldn’t be their responsibility anymore. They didn’t disclose any of his troubling behaviors and Morzan was quick to understand that he would need to tamp the more obvious ones down and manipulate others into hiding his transgressions.

Despite all this, Morzan and his dragon do deeply care for each other. Due to Morzan’s mind linking with the hatchling, there was a sort of evening out of his behaviors as some were ‘shared’ do the hatchling and some of the hatchling’s personality was ‘shared’ with Morzan. This is what helped Morzan fly under the radar for so much longer until his eventual betrayal.

On a lighter note, Morzan shot up like a weed when he hit puberty, once growing nearly five inches (~12.7 cm) over the span of a year. It took a year or so for his muscles to visibly bulk up, so he was this tall gangly teenager for a while. His clothes constantly needed altering.

Initially Morzan doesn’t really know what to think of Oromis and Glaedr. His family was always distracted from giving him the attention and nurturing he needed, and suddenly he has not only this baby dragon who he can share his frustrations and emotions with but also parental figures.

Eventually he warmed up to them, but more in the sense that he became attached to their attention and the praise he got when he did well in magic and other lessons. He didn’t showboat as much, but would push himself to get more compliments, praise and attention from Oromis. Oromis saw this more as Morzan taking his training seriously. There were a few instances of Morzan and his dragon being pointed out as instigators of some scuffles or small acts of possible, unproven acts of sabotage harming or tripping up other Riders-in-training, but these were generally believed to be accidents or bad luck.

Morzan’s bullying and belittling of Brom was the result of Morzan feeling like his unfettered access to Oromis and Glaedr’s attention was being threatened. He knew he couldn’t get away with physically injuring Brom and Saphira I, so his physical actions never really went past ‘accidental’ full force hits in sparring and roughhousing. If Brom got praise or compliments from Oromis, Morzan would seethe quietly, eventually exploding in rage at some later point after it built up. Again, Oromis merely thought this was just adolescent growing pains.

Wooo! That is getting LONG, eh? I’ve got more, but for now I’m going to move on to Oromis and his feelings around Morzan’s betrayal and link you to whatever extra stuff I add later. I’m really unsure about the timeline of when Morzan betrayed the Riders and when it was known that he had, so I’m mostly going to skip that chunk. Let's go!

Modern Inheritance!Oromis

Even without 100% knowing/being sure of Morzan’s betrayal, I think there was a whirlwind of confusion and general chaos when Galbatorix murdered Shurikan’s original Rider. Who was a child. A Rider had murdered a child Rider and while everyone knew Galbatorix was unstable I don’t think anyone would have expected that. Oromis was swept up in all this and didn’t have time to really ask where Morzan was. I mean, Morzan was a grown man at that point and well beyond Oromis’s control.

Morzan’s involvement was probably confirmed without a doubt at the initial attack on Ilirea, and Oromis and Glaedr didn’t have time to process this until after their brief capture.

Oromis felt some really strong guilt. That’s putting it bluntly. Let’s expand it, shall we?

First off, I think Oromis felt some guilt over not being able to help in the sort of final big battle at Ilirea. He was previously quite powerful since he was on the council that refused Galbatorix a new dragon (that’s a whole other topic to look at later on btw), and despite his age and wisdom I think it’s safe to assume that any sudden event causing massive life changes can be pretty shocking. Oromis felt powerless and after the deaths that occured in Galbatorix’s initial attack with the Forsworn on the Riders, I think he knew that there would be more. And all he and Glaedr could do was hide in Ellesméra and tend to their wounds and new maladies.

As they healed I’m pretty sure Oromis spent a lot of time thinking ‘how could I have stopped this?’ Hindsight is...well, whatever-elves-have/20, and Oromis would have put all the signs together that were telling him that there was something off about Morzan from the start. He probably thought subconsciously that he was fixing Morzan and didn’t want to acknowledge just how dangerous that little 10 year old boy and scrawny hatchling he had met all those years ago had become as he grew. There was also a lot of guilt post-Ilirea’s final fall around not protecting Brom from Morzan enough, and feeling like a lot of Brom’s pain was Oromis’s own fault because of this.

Oh man, Oromis also has heaps of survivors guilt about the Riders that, while he does work through it and focuses on extending his life to train the next Rider, never really fades completely. He understands that he could not fight in his condition, but there’s always the nagging ‘what if’ questions that can rear up unexpectedly.

Once he learns of Murtagh and Thorn and their forced fealty to Galbatorix, I think Oromis’s guilt probably pushed him over to definitely join the fight at Gil’ead. It’s likely that he feels that if he had separated Brom and Morzan, had taken the signs of Morzan’s growing antisocial disorder seriously and gotten him proper help, and hadn’t been so blind during the Golden Age, then in some strange way he may have prevented everything from happening. Morzan wouldn’t have let Galbatorix into Ilirea, Shruikan wouldn’t have been stolen, the Forsworn wouldn’t have been influenced by Galbatorix and Morzan (who used his manipulative charm to sway some), and it all comes to, in the end, Murtagh and Thorn, both relatively innocent in this and dragged in only due to parentage and some situations which they have no control over, would have never been forced through torture and cruelty to join Galbatorix and fight people they once saw as friends and family.

Overall I think Oromis, while having processed/processing and come to terms with the Riders Fall and the hand he inadvertently had in it due to his connection to and, in some ways, his failures surrounding Morzan, he still carries this deep feeling of guilt. He doesn’t let it simply sit there though, as he pushes himself to be able to train the next generation, but it’s always there.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH okay that’s what I’ve got for now. Holy shit that’s a lot of bulletpoints, huh?

I spent some time researching antisocial behavior and Antisocial Personality Disorder, but per usual I want to state that I am by no means an expert, and the behaviors and traits portrayed here are not the only results, symptoms, or scenarios that can occur when someone has antisocial behavior or ASPD. Mental health is a difficult subject to write about, especially when I have no personal or second hand experience with the specifics, and I’m always open to educating myself on these topics. I am doing my best to learn so that I don’t stereotype or offend. If there are comments/concerns/critique please please don’t ever feel bad about messaging me privately, via the comments, via reblog, or through the ask box point out what I got wrong or if you simply want to share your experiences or concerns.

I’ll probably have more Morzan specific backstory and ideas later on, but for now I need to make some dinner and get to work on the other ask. Cheers!

Thank you again to @siriusly-misunderstood-creatures for the ask! I always appreciate asks and comments, they make my brain work!!

#modern inheritance #modern inheritance cycle #inheritance cycle #the cyclists #eragon #brom #morzan #oromis #modern inheritance ask #modern inheritance asks #modern inheritance lore #glaedr #morzan's dragon

24 notes · View notes

emerald-studies · 4 years

Text

Racism in Education

June 27, 2020

Day 6 of 7

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]

—-

Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it.

You have the time, please read.

As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago.

Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race.

It was junior year that broke me.

I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years.

I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school.

It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took.

I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath.

I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me.

We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.

This nurse came in and basically shamed me.

“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed.

She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does.

Fuck off.

The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).

I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out.

The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine.

I said,

“No.”

I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.

I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.

I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.

They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.

I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months.

I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.

I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.

They each talked to me in private saying things like,

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’m here for you.”

“You matter.”

I thought,

“Hm ok, that’s nice.”.

I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.

But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating.

First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,

“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”

(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)

Then I got little questions/comments like,

“Why do you dress White?”

“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”

But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.

I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”.

But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.

I would be on the brink of tears in class every day.

Guess who didn’t notice?

All 8 of those concerned teachers.

They don’t give a shit.

My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers.

While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”

Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,

“Huh maybe she needs help.”

But no.

I would go to the counselor almost every day and say

“I’m not doing well.”

And she’d ask,

“What does that mean?”

Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?

I couldn’t say anything.

She said,

“What can we do to keep you going here?”

I said,

“I don’t know”

Because that’s not my job.

Then it happened.

My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.

He said,

“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!”

He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.

None of my peers said anything.

I replied with,

“Well, what are my qualifications?”

He ignored me.

He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes.

I called my Mom at break and asked her

“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”

I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.

My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,

“YES.”

I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes.

The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.

So I was a liar?

To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out.

He didn’t. And he said more awful things.

I had concrete proof.

We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds?

They basically said,

“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”

Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.

I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence.

So WHY?

WHY me?

The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?

Moving on to my English class.

We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.

We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist.

I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class.

The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.

My teacher said nothing.

So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,

“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”

Nothing from my teacher.

Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,

“Are you doing ok?”

I replied,

“No. Absolutely not.”

A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.

We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.

I lost my 3.8 GPA

I lost my credits for the semester.

The racist teacher is still working.

I had to go online.

It happened again.

Another racist history teacher.

Wasn’t removed.

I graduated with a lower GPA.

Didn’t apply to my dream school.

I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.

Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective.

So.... discussion time.

Let me know what you think here

I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma.

I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.

If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol:

@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)

or paypal

http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397

Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.

#blm #black lives matter #education #academia #black women matter #discussion #racism #history #mental health

168 notes · View notes

scienceoftheidiot · 3 years

Text

So you know what it’s wednesday you’re getting an infodump on Desden’s blindness.

Beware. I’m a biologist. I’m a nerd. And I’m a teacher. You know what’s coming, right ?

I just reblogged an extremely interesting and great post about writing blind characters that I advise you to go and read now (I haven't finished yet) because it's just full of info and contrary to usual posts like that it's not guilt tripping or anything. I love this post and OP for this. However I've noticed there's a bunch of advices I don't follow myself and I felt like I could expand and why and how I think it's not a bad thing. Here's the first one : don’t make your character blind through an accident. Because drama.

So yeah. Desden lost his sight due to some kind of accident. Which is thoroughly described by a mysterious bystander’s flashback in chap.3. So that’s not a spoiler. But how can a brick through the head make you blind ?

Brain. Brains are evil. You know I got a PhD in biology : I am sad to admit I couldn’t go through with my love of neurology because it was competing with my love for bacteria and parasites that can kill you and happily live everywhere. Life’s though. No neuro for me, welcome to viral ecology (viruses are obligatory parasites, sue me). But not only can’t I help being a nerd... I have an uncle in my family who lost part of his vision from a brain haematoma (not due to trauma, but the result and how it works is the same). Who’s also a nerd. (And a PhD in physics cause like that’s what nerds do, right ?) And he explained in details how he lost his vision (and gained back some of it over time) to us.

If you cut blood supply to parts of the brain for long enough, this part will die. Logic. Head trauma can do that and more. So, what happened is that Desden’s visual cortex got cut from blood supply for a relatively long amount of time (he can thank the extremely cold weather of the day it happened, which makes your body turn into “low survival mode”, when the “accident” happened for 1) being still alive and 2) not losing more than most of his sight, some balance, and a bunch of memories). But the brain is a funny little thing and some times it does stuff (not going into the haematoma part, I’m not a doc, it’s long and not very relevant, but it has to be taken into account cause it’s what can make part of the lost sight reappear). So Desden was totally blind for a while, then his brain managed to get some of his sight back. Very little.

But what and how does he see ?

See, the brain is constructed so that the visual cortex’s position reflects the visual field you have, except in reverse. Sorry. I’m a teacher. I’m going to add a schema. But in French because I actually work with this (well. Nope. They changed the program but I have old program lessons lying around just in case) and I’m lazy today. Just look at the pretty colours. It shows you what I just explained very badly because I’m used to use schemas, but here’s what you need to understand.

SOOOO. Basically make most of the colour disappear except for a very small part of blue at the far right of the visual cortex. Meaning that in the end, what Desden can see is an extremely reduced part of peripheral vision. Try to fix your eyes on a point in front of you and describe what is at the far corner of your left eye. Good luck. (and let me tell you I know I have extremely good peripheral vision myself, it’s still composed by what your brain KNOWS is around. From seeing it with the other parts of your field of vision. Because your brain is constantly MAKING UP what you’re seeing from a lot of information including past ones when you didn’t even think about it but your eyes brushed that part. Your senses are fucked up. Deal with it. Your brain is playing tricks on you right now.)

This is why, btw, he’s often described tilting his head on the right. He doesn’t have much control on his eye movement so he tries to get some info on people (mostly light and colours but since his visual memory is fucked up, it’s not very useful)

His eyes move. He just doesn’t really control them. In fact they’re often if not constantly moving because head trauma is often linked to the apparition of a nystagmus, which is a rapid eye movement to the side or up and down - my brother has that, vertical, did you know it existed ? well I do. A friend of my parents has a horizontal one that is a lot more visible. Constantly. She’s not blind, her brain compensates this. Brains are both evil and awesome. Deal with it.

Oh and his eyes are perfectly normal. Even quite pretty, as he describes them himself. He still wears sunglasses because his brain doesn’t like strong light which give him migraines, because it has a hard time processing visual info.

His eyes also work perfectly (well as perfectly as they did before his accident, which is okay but a little nearsighted) which leads to the only thing that sounds like a superpower that isn’t one : blindsight. If you research it you’ll learn about people who can do absolutely crazy things like catch stuff that’s thrown at them or avoid most obstacles on a path while being totally blind, because BRAINS, AGAIN. Your brain doesn’t only process visual cues through the visual cortex; there’s a slight part in the “primitive brain” or “lizard brain” that does, too. So basically Desden’s body can see stuff but he’s not aware of it consciously. He’s NOT using it and he’s NOT as good as the people I cited above. But for example he has insights he souldn’t have on people’s moods, because his lizard brain picks their faces up. Not always, and it’s often more when someone’s in a VERY bad mood that SHOWS. And since he’s not aware of it he takes that as hints from his other senses. It’s NOT compensating for his blindness - if anything, it’s a silly trick. BUT I AM A NERD, REMEMBER ?

Anyway. Now you know. Desden still lost his vision through an accident which, as said in the reference post i’m refering to (haha) would be bad if it was used for drama but, in fact, I try to avoid most of it because apart from the accident, which is witnessed by someone else who is important to the later plot, nothing from Desden’s life before or after it is described in details. My novel starts 9 years after the accident. He’s got time to get used to being blind.

*I* know everything that happened in his life, or most of the important things anyway, that lead to the opening of the book, but you will only get scraps of it because it’s not what’s relevant. It’s important for the construction of the character, but what I want to show here is not Desden’s journey through being used to being blind. It’s his journey through accepting his family heritage, which has nothing to do with being blind, and sharing it with the rest of his family while it stayed hidden to them until then because the person who kept this before him was an arsehole. There are a lot of plot points that are linked to Desden’s blindness, including said arsehole arseholery (I be good with words), but it’s not the point of the book.

Y’all know I’m a Daredevil fan. That’s where I got the idea of a blind character (not only), but now erase that from your mind. Desden doesn’t have any superpower that compensate his blindness. He’s got pretty good hearing because he’s used to use it a lot more than when he was sighted. It’s not better. He loves music, but he’s absolutely tone deaf so forget the blind piano tuner/musician cliché (this is a joke in one of my AUs, in fact)(explanation : in France, which is the country I research for because I’m French and my story takes place in France, the most prominent school for the blind used to primarily teach people to become piano tuners during the 20th century). He’s got a very good nose, but that’s just how it is, and since I’m using my own experience of rediscovering my sense of smell after years of living with smoking people (don’t smoke) (yeah, even you, Desden) I know it’s not superhuman. In fact my own nose is pretty shitty compared to my mom’s. Who is a fucking hunting hound. Anwyay I digress.

Desden often chases any comment that restrict him to being “the blind guy” by stating stuff he does or likes to do, like “I’m also a good tarot player but no one ever mentions that” or “my brownies are the best ones and I don’t even need to add pot to it”. This is how he feels about it. He’s blind. It’s okay, it’s part of him. But it’s not his sole characteristic.

I think I’m done here. I haven’t touched on other people’s reaction to him that much, and if you’re interested you can ask questions. Basically remember he’s a 1,98m guy, with broad shoulders, and that’s the first thing you see from him. Also there’s his guide dog Kalinka.

Lot more things to talk about, not that much time. So if you’re interested in knowing more, poke me, and I might write more about my character.

Lastly and more importantly : if you see things that you can correct in this post, please do so. As I said, I’m a nerd, but I’m not a neurologist. I’m going the vulgarized version. And I like to be taught things. So if you see mistakes, tell me.

Peace !

#original character #blind character #desden #long post #very long post #also i'm writing as ideas come so hum bear with me

9 notes · View notes

rpd-rookie · 4 years

Text

Under Her Extra-Large Umbrella - Chris Redfield x Reader (PART 1)

Summary: Chris Redfield has always been an honourable man but the things he's seen at Spencer Mansion leave him no choice. He must infiltrate Umbrella's French laboratory, whatever it takes, even if it means manipulating you. But how far he is ready to go?

Author’s Note: This fanfic involves a Post RE1 / Pre-Code Veronica version of Chris Redfield since it focuses on his trip to Europe that is mentioned in RE2. You will probably notice that I used the letter Chris wrote to his S.T.A.R.S. friends. It is actually what inspired this fan fiction in the first place. Gotta be honest with you, this fanfic made me shed blood, sweat and tears. I guess I rewrote it twice before coming to a rather satisfying version and I must have tear my hair out quite a few times when I was struggling with grammar. (BTW, tell me if you see some terrible grammatical mistakes so that I can correct them) Anyway, as usual, I hope you will like it. Please don’t forget to like/reblog and tell me what you think of it in the comment section.

Tags: Romance, Fluff, SMUT, Explicit Language, Manipulation and Treachery. Angst is come ;-)

Also available on AO3

“Better failing with honour than winning by cheating, son”. Chris could perfectly remember his father telling him those words. It was in 1990. Chris was a seventeen years old teenager finishing his Junior year, and they were driving back home from driving school right after learning he had failed his theory test contrary to that asshole Colin Monroe who had aced it thanks to a crib cheat hidden in his sock. He could also remember that his father’s wisdom had barely consoled him on that day - despite what he had let him believe - and that it had taken him quite some time to swallow the bitter pill and even more time to admit that his father was indeed right and that he should live by this motto. Months actually. Plus a tombstone with his parents’ names on it. Chris never regretted listening to his father. He never regretted promising him that he would do his best to become the man he would have wished him to be. That promise had made him the man he was today. A man who would never stray from the right path however tempting treachery could be. Someone loyal, upright and honourable. Someone his parents would be proud of.

And yet here he was, eight years later, a twenty-five years old cop, breaking the promise he had made his father and doing something so deceitful and selfish it would certainly make him roll over in his grave or wish he were still here to give his son a earful. But today, it was not something as silly as his driving licence that was at stake. It was the justice he owned to his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, those he had lost at Spencer Mansion and those waiting for him in Raccoon City. It was the security of god knows how many people. This time, Chris had a burden on his shoulders that was way too heavy for him to accept a possible failure. And as terrible as it sounded, he was ready to do something bad for the greater good, whatever the cost, whatever his dead father may think of him from beyond the grave.

“To my bestest S.T.A.R.S. buds,

How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick. Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella. Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface. Maybe I’ll extend my vacation for another six months. Barry, don’t even think of coming join me. Wouldn’t want to make all the cute girls cry, yeah? So you just leave the babes to me. Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I’m OK.”

Chris put down the pen on his nightstand and took a look at his letter one more time with a proud amused smile. He knew that his friends, contrary to Irons, would get the hidden message behind that lame womanizer persona that was so unlike him. And hopefully, maybe the police chief would tell his friends at Umbrella his S.T.A.R.S. poster boy was nothing to worry about and just currently cruising for pussies in Europe.

“Writing to your friends again?” Chris looked up to see you standing in the doorway to his bedroom. You looked very tired, exhausted even, judging by the dark circles under your beautiful eyes, your loosened bun and the way you were leaning against the framework. “Yeah, to give them a small update on my vacation.” Chris folded the letter and put it in the drawer of his nightstand; not very keen on letting you read it. “Tough day?” “You have no idea.” You dropped your bag at the entrance of Chris’ room and went to fall down on his bed, your head on his crossed legs. “Wanna talk about it?” Chris asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t say much. Professional confidentiality and all. ” “I didn’t know working for Umbrella was like working for the CIA.” Chris joked, trying to tone down the disgust he was feeling each time he had to pronounce the word Umbrella. You smiled, too tired to laugh and glanced at Chris who was staring at you.

God, why did you have to be so beautiful and so sweet and yet so not good for him? Why did you have to work for Umbrella? And how did he allow things to be that way between the two of you?

Chris could remember the day he had first seen you, the day he had chosen not be moral and honourable for once in his life. It was almost a month ago. He had been in Paris for a couple days, trying to find a way to infiltrate Umbrella’s French laboratory, which was even more impenetrable than Zone 51, the lab being a real fortress (with automatic secured doors, CCTVs, guards and a severe ‘no visitor allowed’ policy) only accessible if you were the lucky owner of a white and red badge. And you had happened to be one. Leaving the lab for lunch break, happy to finally feel the warm sun on your face, it hadn’t been your beautiful [h/c] hair loosely tied back in a high ponytail or your twinkly [e/c] eyes that had caught Chris’ attention (even though yeah he had noticed). No it had been that badge, that stupid badge carelessly hanging from the front pocket of your lab coat. And it had also been that badge that, unfortunately for you, had made him organise a plan to trick you and get his hands on it, that badge that had made you the victim of his very first treachery.

Your meeting was �� unbeknownst to you – the most unnatural meeting ever. Chris had calculated everything. When? Lunch break. Where? The nearby boulangerie where you used to be eating. What to say? “Désolé. Bonjour. Puis-je m’assoir avec vous?” which meant “Sorry. Hi. May I sit with you?” in French of course, because Chris had figured that playing the part of the poor American tourist with a terrible French accent trying to adapt in the city of love would be much more appropriate for the situation. And it had worked. He had sit at your table, had exchanged a few words with you and had found you surprisingly friendly and adorable for an Umbrella employee. But of course, as the majority of Chris’ plans, the meeting hadn’t ended up the way he had imagined (meaning him discreetly stealing your badge) simply because of a tiny detail he hadn’t thought of; you had forgotten your badge at the lab, leaving him no choice but to improvise and organise a second meeting that he had dared called a rendez-vous.

And here he was, weeks later, sharing your apartment and occasionally your bed and definitely bogged in a way bigger deceit that the one he had originally planned, one he knew he would not be able to get out easily. And to answer the question, did Chris manage to get his hands on your badge? Well, yes and it was now safely hidden in his room to be used at the proper moment. If only he could shut his guilt away as well. Things would be much easier.

“What did you do today? Sebastien told me he barely saw you.” Sebastien was your other roommate. A nice redhead guy as well as a curious unstoppable chatterbox. “Oh, nothing interesting. I woke up early to jog at the Bois de Boulogne then I spent the rest of day wandering in the city.” That was half a lie. Yes, he had gone for a run at the Bois de Boulogne but he hadn’t spent the afternoon visiting Paris. No, he had spent his afternoon trying to reach the FBI from a phone booth in order to know if they had some news concerning Irons or the Mansion Incident. Unsuccessfully. “If you want, we can spend this Saturday together. I’m sure I can show you few places you haven’t seen yet.” “Aren’t you working this Saturday?” You were always working on Saturdays. “I need a day off to clear my mind a bit.” That didn’t sound like you. You were too much of a workaholic to prefer spending your Saturday playing guide to your American roommate. “Now, consider me worried. What’s up at work?” Chris asked, concerned not only because he knew something terrible could be happening at Umbrella but also because he couldn’t help but caring about you, Umbrella worker or not. “Those last days have been a bit tough that’s all.” You wouldn’t tell him more. You couldn’t. For so many reasons. “Well in that case, what do you think about me running you a nice hot bath?” You glanced up at Chris. He had drawn your attention in a very interesting way. “That depends. Will you be with me in that bath?” You asked cheekily. “Do you want me too?” He smirked and you put your hand on his neck to pull him closer to your face. You pressed your lips softly against his; sighing in this kiss you had been dreaming about all day, as Chris brought you against his broad chest, his strong arms now holding you tight against him. You felt so safe in his embrace and that’s what you needed right now.

Chris pecked you a couple times before laying one last kiss on your forehead with a tenderness that made you melt in his arms. “I’m gonna go run you that bath, okay?” You nodded. “Join me in ten minutes.” Needless to say that those ten minutes were the longest you had ever experienced. Probably because they gave you plenty of time to dwell on the things you had experienced today at the lab, the things you had seen, the things you wanted to forget and yet couldn’t. You got up and grabbed the bag you had left by the door to search for a small notebook that you opened with a desperate sigh. Then, you took the pen on Chris’ nightstand and started scribbling notes and drawings in it. A habit you had taken a few months ago and that somehow helped you from not cracking up.

You guessed you took more than ten minutes when you heard Chris clear his throat by the door, only wearing a small towel around his wait. Goodness, what a sight. You quickly closed the notebook as soon as you spotted him and put it back in your bag while he pretended not to notice. “Haven’t you forgotten something, mademoiselle?” He smirked and you giggled. “Have I?” “Yes. I think there is a naked man waiting for you in the bathroom.” He joked and you approached him with a amused yet cheeky smile. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his muscles against your palm, as you looked up at his face with a mischievous look. “Is he hot?” “Right now, he is very hot.” He confessed, absolutely in the mood to play with you. “Better not keep him waiting, then.” You purred and you put your hand on one of the straps of your summer dress to gently make it slide along your shoulder. That small sight of your naked skin made Chris hiss and unable to resist the urge to lay a trail of soft warm kisses from your neck down to your shoulder. You could tell the smoothness and the perfume of your skin were driving him crazy as his mouth soon started devouring you and muffled growls began vibrating in his throat. His calloused hands roamed down your back, making you instinctively move your hips closer to his crotch, and he unzipped your dress. It dropped at your feet revealing your body that Chris gazed at with his brown eyes darkened by desire. They lingered on your breasts and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to touch them. He loved them too much for that. And so, his hands cupped them and his thumbs brushed your hard nipples. “Gosh, Y/N.” He breathing in, trying to calm his heart pounding in his chest “I can’t wait any longer.” Chris suddenly grabbed you and hoisted you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, which made you yelp. Nevertheless, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, making his towel fall to the floor. “Oops. That was not voluntary.” You giggled. So did he. “Right.” And he rushed towards the bathroom, with you in his arms, his lips devouring yours in a hasty burning kiss on the way.

He set you up on the double washstand and quickly locked the door behind him, giving you a brief view of his divine firm behind, though you liked the front as much if not more right now. “What are you looking at like that?” He smirked. Well, his chiselled chest, his carved abs and that big hard cock. What a silly question! But you couldn’t say that and so instead you urged Chris to come closer to you, spreading your legs to welcome him between them. He obeyed but instead of giving you that lustful hug and passionate kiss you were expecting, he crouched in between your legs and remove your panties, kissing your smooth legs, from thighs to feet, as he did. You clearly knew where that would eventually lead but you moaned anyway when you felt Chris put your legs on his shoulders and burry his face in between your thighs. “I told you I’d help you relax.” “What about the hot bath?” You tilted your head towards the bubble bath he had run for you few minutes ago. “Oh don’t worry, we’re getting there. But first you know how much I like licking your pussy.” He winked and his tongue lapped your slit up to your clit without waiting another second. A loud moan escaped your mouth as Chris sucked your bud loudly, pulling it between his lips, and he looked up at you with a proud smirk before focusing his attention back on your pussy. He was good, very good even, way better than any other men you had ever been with. He knew exactly how to please you. He knew where the tip of tongue had to swirl to make you shiver, knew the right spot to suck to make you moan and when to add his fingers to make you cry out his name - which was right now by the way. “Oh my god, Chris!” You mewled loudly as you felt one of his fingers entering you, his mouth still eating your pussy up. Your legs instinctively clenched around your lover’s head while one of your hand found its way in his short hair. Then you heard Chris hum in between your thighs as he kept on licking you and fucking you with his finger, adding one more in the process. You pulled his hair back, forcing him to look at you. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me now.” Chris complied and, after his tongue slid one last time in between your lips, he stood up to catch your lips in a new passionate kiss, making you taste your juices on his expert tongue. You could feel his cock against you, hard and slightly throbbing already, showing how impatient and aroused he was. “Enter that bath, quick.” He ordered with a deep voice that made you shake against his body.

You obeyed and gladly let your burning body sink in the bubbly water, the lukewarm water cooling you off a bit (which wasn’t a bad thing). You were soon followed by Chris who entered the bath with a brutal eagerness that made the water waved a bit too much around both your bodies. “Don’t flood the apartment.” You giggled as you spread your legs to make him a place in the tub. “I can’t promise you that.” He confessed amused, as he grabbed his length in his hand to jerk it off a bit and guide it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. He tickled your swollen clit with his tip before entire you almost smoothly making you draw a sharp breath. “Damn, you’re so tight.” Chris growled as he took hold of the edge of the bathtub above your head to push himself deeper inside of you, enjoying your wet walls around his cock. “You’re fucking big, you mean.” You said with a painful hiss that brutally calmed his ardour and made him consider immediately pulling out of you. “Sorry. Am I hurting you?” He worried, aware his girth needed get some getting used to and afraid that he hadn’t given you enough. “No, no. It’s okay. Just give me sec.” You cleared your throat and adjusted yourself underneath Chris, spreading your lips with your fingers to welcome him the way you both desired. Hard, big and rough. “Okay. Good now.” “You sure?” He asked, definitely not willing to hurt you. You nodded and pressed your lips against him to show him how much you wanted him right now. He got the message and started moving inside of you, slowly yet deeply for now.

You dug your nails in his biceps and started moaning; taking delight in feeling him going in and out of you. It was just the most divine sensation in the world. He filled you so perfectly. “Chris. Please. Faster.” You begged. He complied and started pounding you more quickly, hands still on the edge of the tub, towering you with his muscular body to assert his dominance over you the way you liked it. But it wasn’t enough for you and so you wrapped your legs around him forcing him to go balls deep inside of you. Chris smirked, loving your initiative. “You like it deep and rough, baby?” You cried out. “I didn’t hear you” “Yeeess.” You whimpered with small tears in your eyes. He hammered you harder, spilling water on the bathroom floor, and you clenched your walls around him. “Oh god!” You yelled, out of breath.

He was relentless, so strong, so fast, so deep you could hear his body slam against your skin and echo the splashes of the waves in the tub. “Come here.” He lay on his back and urged you to come and straddle him. And so you climbed on top of him, admiring how handsome he was underneath you. “Guide me into you.” You did as he said and directed his throbbing cock to your wanting pussy, welcoming him again inside your wetness, Hands pressed against his pectorals, you immediately started undulating on top of him, feeling the pleasure coming back in your lower stomach. “That’s it. Keep going.” He whispered, gazing at you.

Chris’ hands crawled up your body to reach your breasts and play with them a bit, delicately pinching your pointy nipples, as you kept riding him. You knew he loved groping them and you also knew how much he loved them in his mouth as well. Therefore you decided to bent over him a bit, just enough for his face to reach your chest, holding on to the wall in front of you with one hand to keep your balance. Chris smiled, understanding perfectly your little game, and pulled one of your tits to his mouth to catch one nipple between his lips and suck it greedily. It was apparently very pleasurable for him (even maybe more than it was for you, and it was a lot) since he started humming and growling loudly. You enjoyed hearing and seeing him like this very much, so much you stopped riding him to focus on this spectacle.

It didn’t last long though as you soon felt you lover’s strong hands gripping your ass to make you bounce on his cock again. “I so want to cum, baby. Please make us both cum.” His words made you shiver of excitement and you locked your lips with his as you started rolling your hips onto him again. But it was certainly not enough for Chris since after few seconds he suddenly grabbed your hips to slam deep in your pussy and relentlessly pound you from underneath. You screamed his name and hold on tight to him. He was very rough, so rough you could barely breathe, but you didn’t mind at all. Soon, you felt your face become so red and your bundle of nerves become atrociously sensitive. You knew you were ready to explode. “Chris. I’m gonna cum.” He put his hand on your clit to stimulate it and help you reach your release, his cock hammering you even harder than before. You clenched your pussy around his throbbing cock, making him groan because of how tighter you suddenly were. “Tell me I can cum in you, baby.” He asked, panting. He was very close too. “Yes, cum in me.” You didn’t need to say it twice as Chris immediately growled in your ear, slowed his pace, and spread his cum in your pussy with a last animalistic grunt as you came undone on top of him, yelling his name, your powerful orgasm almost knocking you out.

You collapsed on him, incapable of remaining straight. “Wow. That was something.” He chuckled, exhausted and out of breath, and so did you. “You’re okay?” You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows. What a ridiculous question. “No, I’m being serious, Y/N. Wasn’t I a bit too rough?” He asked. “You were perfect.” You admitted before kissing him tenderly. “AND SO FUCKING LOUD!!!” You heard shouting from behind the wall. You both looked in the direction of the noise, understanding that your roommate had probably heard everything but despite the embarrassment you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Poor Sebastien. “Why don’t we get out of that bath and cuddle a bit in bed? The water is getting cold.” Chris offered. “I’d like that very much.” You smiled and managed to leave the tub, using the little energy you had left in your sore body.

As you dried yourself, you saw Chris head towards the door with a towel draped around his waist. “Where are you going?” You asked. “Taking some briefs in my room. See you in your room in a minute?” He smiled and you nodded, impatient to spend the night in his arms. “Can you bring me back my clothes and my bag while you’re at it?” “Sure.”

Chris closed the door behind him and headed towards his room where he put on some clean underwear and picked up your stuff as you had asked. But the moment he grabbed your bag and caught a glimpse of the black notebook he had previously seen you inside, he knew he would probably not join you as soon as he had told you. �� He watched it first, hesitant, knowing perfectly well that what he had in mind right now was very bad. It was one thing to steal a badge, but spying on you, that was going too far. “No, Chris. No.” He whispered to himself. And yet, he grasped the notebook and opened it. It was a diary of some sort judging by the numerous dates he noticed as he quickly leafed through it. And if it was a diary then it was indeed very private, intimate even, certainly not his to read. He thought about putting it back in your bag for a second, but what if something valuable to his investigation was inside that notebook? “Argh, fuck.” He cursed as he went to the first page.

“May, 14th 1998

Today made me regret the time I was just the intern bringing Professor Rochois his morning espresso. Umbrella is asking more and more of me, and the pressure they put on us workers is driving me insane. But what’s worse is that I’ve got the impression they are not telling us everything, especially concerning the experience the seasoned scientists are conducting in the north wing. But I guess I’ll soon have answers to my questions since Professor Rochois said that he was genuinely impressed by my devotion and was thinking of promoting me.”

Chris frowned, apprehension knotting his stomach. That didn’t sound good at all. He needed to learn more about that even if the moment was far from convenient. You could show up anytime and catch him red-handed. He turned a few more pages, rapidly skimming through some notes he would definitely read another day, until he spotted a weird drawing of some octopus-like creature. What the hell was that thing?

“June, 7th 1998

The NE-a parasite. A parasitic species indented to retain intelligence. It has been developed by Umbrella Europe for years. At first I thought it was just a revolutionary way to cure brain damage. After all, that’s how it had been advertised to me. But the more I study it, the more I believe Umbrella may be up to something else other than treating brain injuries or Alzheimer. I don’t know what and I’m not even sure I want to know.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. His body was shaking and he could feel fear eating him up and he started imagining terrible things. What if you were involved in the Spencer Mansion incident? No, no. You couldn’t be. And yet, Chris decided to have a look had the entries you wrote in July. He needed to reassure himself. One immediately drew his attention.

“July, 28th 1998

My superiors have been quite on edge lately, something to do with an incident that happened with the American branch of Umbrella from what I overheard. I don’t know what it is though, but I’m sure it must be pretty big because they doubled down security in the lab. The team and I have the impression we are living in a 1984 remake. The CCTVs are always recording and I sometimes have the strange sensation I’m being permanently spied on, even in the locker room. Maybe they have doubts about me because of the many questions I often ask about Project Nemesis.”

Project Nemesis? Y/N, what the hell were you working on in that lab?

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil #fanfic #under her large umbrella #re2 remake inspired fan fiction

55 notes · View notes

derinxfam · 5 years

Text

BTS: They Cheat On You (Jung Hoseok)

hello everyone! I'm back with the third part of this series! So far you guys seem to like it, I'll continue writing it as long as it doesn't flop. Feel free to comment or reblog. I tried to keep this gender neutral btw! I guess Hoseok is bisexual if you take it as him cheating on a man.

here's the links for Yoongi's and Seokjin's versions:

https://jannoda.tumblr.com/post/187243483534/bts-they-cheat-on-you-kim-seokjin

https://jannoda.tumblr.com/post/187263150609/bts-they-cheat-on-you-min-yoongi

Hoseok and you were a new, flourishing couple in your honeymoon phase. Your paths crossed at BigHit's main building. A young translator -you- was applying for a job. You didn't have much information about the band at that time, being a hard-working student that used to live under a rock until she freshly graduated from the college. He stormed into the room during your job interview, interrupting the process.

"This choreography doesn't shine with this dull ass son- Oh. A (fe)male. Sorry," he terribly apologised.

"A (fe)male? What am I, a lion?"

You thought to yourself. Well, at least that was what you assumed you did, until you heard Hoseok and the CEO laugh.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"You did," Hobi confirmed and let out a loud laugh.

"I like them, they're funny. Hire them," he ordered and left the room.

You spent the rest of the interview with blushed cheeks. To your surprise, he was waiting for you outside the room and wanted to have a word with you.

"I'm sorry I barged in on you like that, I would like to right my wrong and order you a coffee. If, you know, that's okay," he shyly asked you out.

"It's really no big deal, I was kinda rude as well. I didn't mean to. You don't have to-"

"I want to," he interrupted.

You giggled and told him to pick you up the following day at 8 pm. Your first date swept you off your feet, exceeding your expectations. In a mere few months, he introduced you to the boys as his partner.

"Translator noona/hyung is your partner?" Jungkook even joked around. The boys were nice to you, and yes, you had been accepted to the job. You attained the duty of feeding the boys during comeback season, which was now. You admired their hardworking nature and efforts, but they got too caught up sometimes, enough to forget to eat their dinners. That was when you'd come in, with hot 4 servings jjajangmyeon in a package.

"Guys! I'm here, again. To feed you. Gather around!" you said with a cheerful tone when you entered the room. Your eyes looked for Hoseok, not finding him anywhere.

"He's still dancing in the practice room with a few trainees, I'll go get him," Namjoon said but you immediately stopped him.

"I'll surprise him, you guys finish your food."

What you saw in the room wasn't Hobi dancing energetically, no. It was him kissing another girl, probably a trainee, and grinding on her. Cat got your tongue all of a sudden. A thorn was in your throat.

"Y/N! Baby... We were just dancing, please, don't - don't get it wrong, jagi."

The trainee ran away in shame before you could scare her off. Teardrops started to fall from your eyes. The pain a broken trust caused was heart wrenching.

"Y/N... Please say something, lovely. Hit me, scream at me, but please react," he pleaded.

"I refuse to entertain you with a reaction. I'm staying at my parents for tonight. Tomorrow I want you gone. All your stuff is to be removed before I'm back," you coldly ordered.

Before he could even protest, you broke down in tears and kicked him out of the room. The other members came in to console you shortly. Needless to say, it didn't work. You were shaking and crying in anger.

"I deserved better Jimin! I was always there for him, I supported him. Gave him the space he needed. I took care of him, hell, I was the perfect girlfriend! I did nothing wrong. Why did this happen to me?"

You were panting at this point, still had a hard time believing what you saw. Jin drove you to your home, and you spent your say crying in your room. Your parents knew better than bothering you, and you were so appreciative of that because you needed to let yourself cry and be broken. After long hours of thinking why he would betray you, why he would stab you in the back and why he was just like the others, you cried yourself to sleep.

When you woke up, you saw your red and swollen eyes. You swore you would never forgive him for doing this to you. After your mother forced you to have breakfast, your energy came back a bit. That's when you checked your phone, only to see 3 messages from him.

[Hobi: 20.13 - Baby, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me but I promise to build back your trust to me if you let me. I love you more than I love myself and I'll always hate myself for even thinking I could do better than you.]

His honest words made you flinch, but there were still two messages to be read.

[Hobi: 20. 20 - I'll live with this guilt and regret for the rest of my life. You should hate me. I hope you do. I know I'm not even worth it, but... God. What was I even thinking, Y/N if you at least let me know you're safe, please...]

[Hobi: 20.34 - I won't guilt trip you. I don't deserve you. I really don't. I'll take it if you give me another chance but one side of me hopes that you don't. Find someone better. I deserve to stay single for the rest of my life and drown in my sorrow. But that's on me. Just know that I love you.]

You were too tired to be petty. The scar was newly inflicted. Yet, seeing him regret it made it a bit better. He was right.

[To: Hobi: 9.32 - You're right. You're not worth my hatred. I don't know if I'll ever forgive you but you should forgive yourself. Don't repeat your mistake. And don't text me again.]

68 notes · View notes

anarchenby · 4 years

Note

Hey, that person who sent that stuff was spiraled into a delusional episode and extremely triggered by something YOU did when you broke their DNI and then refused to respect their boundaries. They’ve admitted that what they said wasn’t right, but you treating a schizophrenic individual like what they’re saying was to purposefully guilt trip you is so disgusting. Don’t purposefully antagonize somebody and then play the victim.

I did not “antagonize” them. Was I a lil mean? Maybe. But I was triggered and I don’t think I owe it to someone who thinks I’m fake to be uwu soft and shit. Their guilttrippy asks (yes, they were guilttrippy. maybe they were not intentionally so, but they were) and ignoring my own DNI didn’t exactly butter me up to rescinding my words.

They’re not the only person w delusions and bad mental health. They’re not the only one who was triggered. None of those factors excuse their actions. guilt tripping me, purposeful or not, was their own decision. Their mental health doesn’t absolve them of their actions (which they didn’t apologize for btw)

I have a right to be frusterated when someone spreads their agenda to singlets and alienate me from my own community. I did not send in caps anons to them threatening self harm. I did not scream or threaten or insult (beyond bootlicker bc that’s what they’re being). I did not tell them to fight me or argue or anything I stated my piece and left it at that. I only responded to anons and accusations of being fake. Again, I feel like I get to be angry about that.

I never read their dni bc I didn’t bother going on their blog bc their post was literally on my dash from someone who reblogged it

I don’t have to go to every op to check if I’m on their dni for some reason before reblogging and neither does anyone else

My blog (which they went to to send guilttrippy asks) clearly states no anti-end0genics in my description, which they ignored to send me asks. They went past my dni too, thank you very much

So. What do you want. Me to say sorry unu I ignored ur dni which I never read but oh u poor poor baby it’s not ur fault u guilt tripped me

Yeah, no.

I’ve already apologized for keeping the post up (which has been deleted)

Idk what u want from me lmao

#dryad.txt

2 notes · View notes

wordsablaze · 5 years

Text

2/6: To Mourn The Dead

Five Times Diego Gave Klaus A Lift … and the one time he returned the gesture in his own way. Enjoy!

A/N: Part two of me hurting my faves! Heads up for (canonical) character death, mentions of blood, and angst btw <3

After Ben died, Klaus lost hope.

He'd been the first to lose Ben even though he would never really lose Ben.

They'd been on a mission and it was nothing new that they were at risk but Ben had promised him an ice cream that would taste like everything good all at once only that morning.

It turns out having extra appendages makes it really easy to cook and bake and experiment with multiple things at once and Klaus had essentially persuaded him to start using his power for nicer things like making food so Ben had been figuring out how to relay his gratitude via Klaus’ taste buds.

And he'd finally settled on something.

And then died.

Klaus had, of course, been the first to know because he'd been acting as their lookout again, spending his time drawing away the ghosts around him in the notebook Diego had bought him, and there'd been no reason for any of his siblings to return until the task was complete so Ben randomly materialising beside him had been an instant sign of disaster.

He hadn't been expecting it - who would be expecting their brother to appear next to them as a ghost? - so reality had taken a minute to sink in and then Ben had glanced down at his blood-stained hands before meeting Klaus’ gaze and Klaus, Klaus had screamed louder than he'd ever screamed before.

Diego had been the second to find out because he knew there could be only one reason why Klaus was in such agony, and he'd dropped his knives, suddenly not caring about his surroundings and the looming threats that didn't even compare to such a terrible loss.

Vanya, back at the house, had tuned in on that scream because it had been so loud and unwavering and raw and painful that she couldn't miss it, especially with her passion for sounds and her conflicting concern for her siblings, and she'd been the third to know.

The rest had been a blur for Klaus; he'd rushed towards the fight and ignored everyone else and Ben's ghost had told him not to go but he'd gone anyway and he'd dissolved into anguish beside his brother's lifeless body, crumpled into a heap in the rapidly expanding puddle of his brother's blood.

He had loved Ben's usually unfaltering optimism. He had admired the way Ben could hate his own skin but love his brothers so much that he was able to overcome it and enjoy whichever random food Klaus had read about and wanted them to try instead. He had been inspired by how, in their utterly messed up household, Ben had managed to carry on living as if they were your typical set of siblings. And then he'd decided that nothing was worth it because all it got Ben was a gruesome end, and he'd lost all the hope he'd been so desperately and happily clinging onto.

Diego had found him then and Diego was determined to find him now.

Hours later, Diego's hands are still covered in blood but he hasn't seen Klaus since he'd dragged him away from Ben but been unable to stop him from running off, and he needs to see him. He needs to know Klaus is alive. He can't let go of both his brothers on the same night.

So he drives.

He gets into their car and pushes the pedal down and makes his way around every part of the city Klaus might have run to. Every idea he has becomes a lost cause and he's about ready to give up by the time the sun gives up on him and decides to set.

And then he realises Klaus is a colossal dimwit when he's upset and diverts his route to the nearest cemetery.

It's raining when he gets there but he pays the weather no heed because nothing is more important than Klaus as he sprints through long lines of graves and heads to the maintenance shed where he's certain his brother will be. He's right.

“Klaus!” he exclaims, kneeling beside the other boy, peeling Klaus' hands away from his ears and looking into his eyes.

Klaus doesn't focus on him at first, glances right past him before moaning softly, but eventually curls into Diego's jacket, clinging onto him as if his life depends on it, hiding his face in the probably uncomfortable, damp leather.

“I'm sorry,” Diego mumbles.

“Me too.” Klaus’ voice is hoarse and Diego faintly wonders if he'd been screaming the whole time.

“Come back with me,” Diego says, pleads, orders.

Klaus shakes his head. “I can't. I can't. He's- I didn't keep look- lookout and I-”

“No, you know that wasn't the reason for it,” Diego says firmly, sharply. He'd been thinking the same about his own failure to protect his brother but it had gotten him nowhere so, for the sake of Ben's memory, he'd stopped guilt-tripping himself.

But Klaus looks over Diego’s shoulder and bitterly whispers, “Then what was the reason?”

And Diego has no answer to give, instead choosing to swallow hard and shake his head. “I don't know.”

Klaus tilts his head and his expression falls further. “I'm so sorry, I didn't think- I got so caught up, I didn't- I didn't ask you! I'm sorry, Dee, I'm so sorry. Are… Are you oh- okay?”

Diego smiles. Not because he's okay but because Klaus found a way to get over his haunting pain and ask if he's okay, and that says enough about his love to let some warmth seep back into Diego's otherwise numb heart.

“Don't let me lose you too, okay?” Diego asks and this time, Klaus doesn't run, he just staggers to his feet and leans on the wall as Diego also pulls himself up, but with a little more grace.

Klaus immediately clings to Diego's arm, a whimper escaping him. And that means the dead are yelling at him so Diego grabs Klaus’ wrist and runs, runs as fast as he possibly can through the angry rain until they're out of the gates.

Hauling in oxygen, they both camber inside the car, Klaus sinking down and covering his head as Diego gets them as far from the cemetery as possible.

He knows Klaus went there to drown out Ben by listening to anyone and everyone else, he's learned that about his brother much over the years, but it can't be pleasant to have the dead so close and so loud for too long so he just drives as if on autopilot, as if he's been literally programmed to care about his brother more than the rules of the road.

Somehow, they manage to arrive back at the house before midnight. Not that it matters because training is cancelled for the next day so they could have gotten away with it just this once.

“Will you come in?” Diego asks as he turns the engine off.

Except he's not asking whether or not Klaus feels like going back inside, he's asking his brother to stay with him and support him as they mourn their other brother, and there's no way Klaus can say no to that.

“We have some ice cream to eat,” Klaus mutters as calmly as he can, which, strictly speaking, is almost the exact opposite of calmly.

But they're safely back at home and Diego thanks their rare and infrequent lucky stars for their trustworthy car and its reliability.

And so, they spend the night eating Ben's masterpiece of ice cream.

Klaus brokenly sobs into his and Diego coincidentally gets dust in his eyes as he eats his and Ben watches over his favourite people in the world with a sad, apologetic smile and proud love in his heart.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks! Masterlist

#the umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #ben hargreeves #canonical character death #grief #angst #fanfic #fanfiction #the seance #the kraken #the horror #ftdgkal #my writing #hurt comfort

23 notes · View notes

velvet-tread · 6 years

Text

FUN TIME!! Let’s talk about content ownership,“hijacking” and that pesky arrow button at the bottom of your post

I am here to tell you that the terms of engagement on social media have not changed just because it suits someone for it to be so.

Let’s just get a couple of things straight about the content you produce on Tumblr.

You own it. That’s right, that pithy little meme you drew up in a fit of giggles at 2am, that loooong serious meta you wrote instead of your essay – it’s all yours! And should Bloomsbury or Paramount decide that your Bellarke/X Files/Queer Eye cross-over fic warrants a book and movie deal then you get to keep the royalties. Think of me as you sip pina coladas in Malibu.

That’s because it’s your intellectual property, which Tumblr explicitly acknowledges in its t&cs.

Here’s the catch though: by uploading your intellectual content to Tumblr, you also license its use to Tumblr for anything connected with the functionality of the site, as well as for data mining for its advertisers. *shrug*

So, while you retain ownership of the intellectual property of your Pride and Prejudice/Pirates of the Caribbean edit, you implicitly grant Tumblr the right to use it for anything within certain parameters laid out in the terms of service.

And guess what? Within those parameters is the right of other users to transfer that content on to their blog and comment on it. That’s right, Tumblr, which you have granted a license of use for your content, in turn licenses the use of your content to other users.

So this means that whenever you post something to tumblr, you’re granting other people the right to put it on their blog with comments of their own. All of which makes perfect sense given the role of social media as a public forum in which everyone has a right to speak and respond.

Importantly, once this right is invoked, your content no longer exists solely on your blog. When someone reblogs something you wrote, that particular copy of your intellectual property exists on their blog not yours, under licence. And any comment they make on your post on their blog is their intellectual property, not yours and the same terms of licence apply to that.

The obvious caveat to this is blocking. If you block someone, you deny them the right to interact with your posts. This is because Tumblr assumes that if you’ve blocked someone, it’s because that person has violated the Community Guidelines on harassment or spamming, which revokes their rights to license your content.

But because Tumblr makes that assumption, there’s also a sacrifice to be made. If you block someone, you lose them as a follower, you lose the ability to interact with them and, because they’ll likely block you back, you won’t be able to see or interact with their posts either. All of which, if someone is genuinely harassing you, you wouldn’t mind.

But if you’re in a place where you don’t want anyone to disagree with you via the reblogs then you face a tricky dilemma. Do you block each and every person who disagrees with you via the reblogs? Hmmmm. Well, you can, but it’s not great Bob because Tumblr is a social media platform that is designed for interaction and if you go about blocking absolutely everyone you’re diminishing your own experience.

So, really, there are two options. One is to switch to a platform that isn’t so geared towards the social aspects of content sharing. Wordpress, for example, allows you to blog to your heart’s content and moderate comments. That’s because Wordpress is a blogging platform, not a social media platform, and interaction isn’t built into the design in the same way.

The other option is to just….walk away. Even temporarily. Especially if, for example, you’re being triggered or you’re finding it emotionally hard to deal with range of opinions – many of which often feel very personal. It is incumbent upon us all to look out for ourselves, and you owe your followers on this site nothing at all. You can go, take some time for self-care and maybe come back, if you feel like it. I have done it myself, and would 10/10 recommend.

But here is what cannot happen. You cannot walk into a space that is specifically designed for discussion, start talking and set arbitrary limits (even if they’re framed as “boundaries”) on how people can respond to you. And however sincerely you feel the hurt that comes with those arbitrary limits being violated, enforcing them with a mixture of guilt-tripping and gaslighting is also the next level of not-okay. Those kinds of boundaries aren’t really boundaries at all, but a means of controlling other people and impeding their personal freedoms.

The one exception to this rule is, I think, when you have a specific area of discussion which you would like to remain unsullied. In that case, I think it’s fair to say: “I would like to talk about [x] and I’m not really interested in discussion so if you reblog just to argue at me don’t take it personally if I block you”. There are users who have received a lot of hate and harassment for their content who take this approach on each and every post on a specific topic, but even then it’s incumbent upon them to take responsibility for their own boundaries by a) stating them politely at the start of each post and b) just quietly blocking without drama if those boundaries are violated. All of that = recognition that those boundaries are artificial, personal and the person who is setting them has to take responsibility for them.

Btw, “hijacking” is when someone’s words get twisted or the post gets turned into a discussion unrelated to the OP’s original comments. It’s not even inherently bad – it’s only bad when the tone is hostile. People are allowed to reblog and comment. That’s what the site is DESIGNED FOR. Of course, we can and should always demand that people respond respectfully and politely, and if they don’t – block. But the very act of reblogging and commenting – even if it is to disagree – is not “hijacking”.

TL;DR – we own our content, but we relinquish the right to sole use of it when we upload it to this site. If the social framing of tumblr doesn’t work for you - find something that’s a better fit. Don’t like the way someone interacts with you? Block, accept the consequences and move on. Let people speak. Let people interact with your content within the parameters of be well, be kind and don’t be a dick, because that’s why we’re here.

#fandom wank #tumblr etiquette #i guess that's my two penny's worth

32 notes · View notes

grcndel · 6 years

Text

hey. so.

i don't normally like getting caught up in bullshit and drama on this website, but recent events have brought up the topic of a pretty explicitly homophobic user in the RPC, and i've been asked to provide proof of some of the garbage she's said and done to both me and others, so.

here's your evidence.

do with it what you please, interpret it as you please -- but here's your evidence.

regardless of how conscious or intentional her actions have been, xuxu (osfractxm --> saintginevra / dcradc / equitvm / seculum / itsrickybxtch / compendixm / etc.) has said and done things to other members of the RPC that have hurt them, and that have contributed to much larger issues -- ex., homophobic rhetoric / fetishization / erasure.

i apologize in advance for certain images being low-quality, or compressed oddly by my blog theme. for readability's sake, i recommend clicking on the screenshots provided.

here's my personal run-in with xuxu, wherein she first approaches me regarding a sort of shipping call despite my rules explicitly stating that grendel is gay. when i explain this to her, she follows it up with a statement that essentially boils down to "oh, i knew he was gay; my muse tends to go after gay muses specifically, which i then use as a personal angst plot on her behalf."

TRANSCRIPT -

osfractxm (xuxu): ;;I saw your post about flirting with grendel, i have no knowledge of the game, per say, but zombie lady over here is like, "dat monster ... he kinna cute" xuxu: but i also assume he's based off the grendel from beowulf, yes? xuxu: or /is/ the grendel from beowulf grcndel (me): im sorr y zombie lady you can Try to flirt with him but he's sad and gay and will probably just. completely go quiet because he doesn't know how to deal with people. -- ALSO,, yes!! he is grendel from beowulf; just in a verse where he survived the maiming me: and lived to modern day me: he's just trying to get by and not be a total monster anymore. xuxu: gg (ginevra) over here has a tendency to think gay men are cute and then regret everything. but hey.

i really shouldn't have to explain why saying this shit, especially to a gay man, is pretty fucking creepy.

( in hindsight, i admit that i probably should have been more assertive about saying 'no,' but i didn't want to be rude. i made it clear enough that gren wouldn't react well in the only way i felt comfortable and decent doing so at the time. i figured maybe she'd just forgotten, or hadn't read my rules yet, so i wanted to be gentle about the rejection. )

still.

i do understand that, out of context, what she said up there seems misguided, but maybe not bad.

it gets bad, though, when you consider her interactions with a certain other character on her nsfw archive blog, ossaxfortes, wherein she has (recently!) been writing out a plot of her muse seducing a character that the mun had previously written as explicitly gay.

just in case you don’t want to read it yourself (i can’t say i blame you), i’ll say here that a major fetish-point of the thread between ginevra and this other muse seems to be the fact that he's ~fucking a woman instead of a man, oh, how dirty and different and strange~.

given that thread, plus whatever brief thing has gone down between her and i, i don't think it's unreasonable to say that xuxu most likely seeks out gay muses and gets off on the "Gay Man Experiencing Straight Sex, But Oh, It's Okay, Because He Liked It!" plot, and that she was most likely going to attempt to do the same with grendel if i hadn't shut her down and stopped replying to her, which -- as a gay person who's experienced corrective rape -- is ... pretty fucking sickening to me.

but! maybe i’m not the best judge of this kind of thing. i mean, after all -- what do i, a gay man, know about what counts as fetishism and erasure of gay people? not as much as too non-gay-men, obviously.

let's go on.

here are the testimonies of a close personal friend of mine regarding their experiences with her + their observation of her tendency to muse-hound/muse-hoard and force-ship, which they have personally experienced, as well as general statements regarding her behavior as an rp partner (draining + pushy in ooc interactions; no regards for other peoples’ comfort or consent; takes advantage of people with passive personalities, however conscious or intentional).

here's some of the awful shit xuxu's personally sent to this friend + people this friend knows.

let’s start off with some good old rape fetishism, shall we?

and maybe some admittance to knowing other people’s characters are gay & going after them anyway.

... yeah, no she’s definitely aware of what she’s doing / is proud of it.

cool.

it really DID come out of nowhere!

> do you want my nsfw blog? > ‘not really, no thanks’ > xuxu sends the nsfw blog anyway.png

fair enough, but kind of an uncomfortable statement.

kind of another uncomfortable statement / context for a former testimony.

so, reasonably, the other party involved in these screencaps left the situation.

...... and here's xuxu failing to just do the right thing and leave them alone after they've blocked her. (way to ruin a good apology with self-victimization, passive-aggression, and guilt-tripping, btw.)

-- also, on a final note? just to add a little irony onto the shitpile? here's a particularly pissy segment of a particularly pissy little post that xuxu still has up on her blog.

interesting viewpoint on minority characters/the voices of minority people, considering everything, isn't it?

very, very interesting.

HOWEVER. please understand that, regardless of how sarcastic and bitter i might sound, this post is not telling you to send hate to xuxu, or to approach her about this at all. this post is not telling you to feel one way or the other about the person or the circumstances. i know i, personally, have probably done my fair share of similar shit in the past -- i’m not saying xuxu’s the fucking devil. i’m just saying, ‘if this sort of thing bothers you, watch out.’

i only want to put this information out there so that people who are bothered by this sort of thing can AVOID her, unfollow her, block her -- whatever they have to do to keep themselves safe and comfortable.

you can dislike her, or dislike me. i don’t care. you can reblog this, ignore this and scroll past it, feel neutral about it, i don’t care. you can agree with either one of us or neither of us at all -- you can even think me writing this whole thing up is stupid and unfounded and unnecessary, i don’t fucking care, but whatever you do? DO NOT turn this into some all-out fucking war. that’s not what i want, for either party.

like i said before -- read this objectively and take it as you will. don’t listen blindly to strange men on the internet. don’t just assume somebody’s a piece of shit because ruben @ grcndel dot tumblr dot com said they were. make up our own mind about it; i can’t do that for you. -- but, above anything?

just be safe.

#ooc #drama /#callout /#negative /#I'm sorry to engage in this kind of stuff.#this just. went on too long and sat with me too heavily for me to allow it to continue.#i want people to avoid her if they feel its necessary. i want them to make their own decisions about the issue.

50 notes · View notes

butch-dyke-loving · 7 years

Note

oh god what happened w/ your music teacher??

Alright so LET ME TELL YALL ABOUT MY SHITTY MUSIC TEACHERThis will be under the cut because it’s reealllyyy longalso @shatehlure bc you sent an ask abt this too

Okay so for some background info, I play the viola in my high school’s orchestra. I have been playing the viola since 4th grade, like most people in my high school orchestra. Now, most people in that class are pretty cool, and are generally pretty nice. Our orchestra, as well as our band program, are pretty good! We’ve won plenty of competitions and there are a lot of pretty great players in our orchestra. (I am not one of them though lol, i dont take private lessons or anything like that) SO as a whole orchestra is pretty chill, but my orchestra teacher, ooooo boy he gets on my fucking nerves. I’m still in orchestra so i won’t say his name, so i’ll just call him Mr. Asshole. Cause that’s what he is, a huge fucking asshole. Now, when I first went to high school I thought that he was a pretty respectable guy. Sure he may have been strict, but I mean pretty much all music teachers are like that, and I mean he just wanted our orchestra to sound good! He would always tell us how much he loves us, and how he knows we can be great if we push ourselves!! Sounds like a pretty great guy, right? I was WRONG. He never yelled at us as a collective group(He would individually though and I’ll get into that in a second), but he would do this passive aggressive shit all. the. fucking. time. If orchestra was not THE MOST important thing in your life, then what the fuck were you doing? For example, a kid in my class had to miss a school concert because he was going to do some intense training for a career he wanted to do. Mr. Asshole then says he doesnt understand why kids miss school for any reason other than being sick and basically tries to guilt trip him into going to school, making him out to be some sort of irresponsible asshole who wants the concert to fail. But of course it’s TOTALLY FINE if we have to miss school for an orchestra field trip! Another time, a kid who was in our advanced orchestra accidentally left his instrument in the orchestra room during winter break. Literally no one practices over break, because it’s BREAK. He yelled at this kid for not practicing over break, and asked if he was actually committed to the advanced orchestra and threatened to kick him out. Now, because my anxiety, I cannot handle being at a school assembly. This assembly was also a day after the orlando shooting, and being both latina and a lesbian, I was a mess. On my way to the nurse’s office I bump into Mr. Asshole. I start explaining to him that I’m going to the nurse’s office during the assembly because of my anxiety. He tries to convince me to go, even though I said I wasn’t going to. He wasn’t letting this go, so I said I was having an anxiety attack and I really need to go.(which was the truth btw) He then tells me in this tone of ‘you’re just lying to get out of this’, “Oh really?” Because I wouldnt go to an assembly. A fucking assembly. Also during marching band practice, a girl was crying because her back was hurting so badly from carrying around her instrument and you know instead of giving her a break like a normal person, he made her keep playing. HE IS ALSO, SEXIST, HOMOPHOBIC, AND TRANSPHOBIC. He will say shit like “Girls, you don’t have to dress up on the field trip for guys. We don’t mind if you dress down” as if a) all girls dress up for the sake of men and b) all the girls in the class are straight. He also said to one of the band players “you play well for a girl.” If a boy in the class plays well, he’ll praise him. If it’s a girl, he’ll ask her to play quieter. Now one day, I was in the counselor’s office talking about him, and I told her something along the lines of “yeah he makes me uncomfortable, he just kind of assumes all the girls in the class are straight.” And then she proceeded to tell me that she had issues with him before being homophobic and transphobic and how he refuses to change his views because he’s very religious. I am gay. Most of my friends are trans. You can see how this is a major problem for me. I HAVE SAVED THE VERY BEST FOR LAST, AND THAT IS IF YOU QUIT ORCHESTRA, HE’LL HATE YOU. EVERYONE who has quit band or orchestra has horror stories of Mr. Asshole yelling at them, guilt tripping them, and making them cry. One of my friends had to drop orchestra because his 7th period class was being dropped, and Mr. Asshole told him to just “drop their science class.” When he told Mr.Asshole he couldn’t do this, Mr. Asshole yelled at him for not caring about the orchestra, not caring about themselves, “you’re leaving the FAMILY how could you do this” type of stuff, saying how awful he is, etc. Mr. Asshole made my friend cry over quitting a fucking elective. Also, sometimes he won’t confront you and just ask the counselors to change the schedule to include orchestra and won’t tell you. When he was visiting the junior high to see who was gonna be in the high school orchestra, he found out one of my friends was going to quit. He then told him stuff like “I’m sorry no one has ever cared about you before.” He describes someone quitting orchestra like someone ripped his heart out or something along the lines of that. A guy in my class left orchestra because he was going to do running start, a program that let’s you go to college early. He would shame him in front of everyone, saying how stupid his idea was and how just a bunch of guilt trippy shit. He just acts like you leaving orchestra makes you a terrible person. I’m quitting orchestra this year and honestly i’m scared of what he’ll say to me. I’ll reblog this if I have more stories for yall

#tl;dr #he's an asshole

2 notes · View notes

icharchivist · 3 years

Text

🐉 Check-in tag 🐉

Tagged by: @alteriius <3 hi!

1. Why did you choose your url?

Icha has been my nickname online for a really long time and i try to keep it in my urls at least as “brand recognization” i guess?? as for “archivist”, it was to have an url that was more fandom neutral than my previous ones. It is in reference to the bookman clan from dgm, who are archivists, since i always think fondly about dgm (and i did decide on the url when i was having long, long conversations about various Bookmen centric theories on my blog), but it serves double as it’s pretty generic and can just be my records there.

2. Any side-blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them.

have an inactive one for otome games that i used years ago but haven’t touched since and i don’t feel like linking it ahah. Otherwise i have “sideblogs” that saves my past URLs (that i can use to save specific posts on in drafts).

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I joined in huh. Late 2011 i think?? all i remember is that i have been here a few months before the first Mi//shapocalypse broke in April 2012. Tumblr veteran.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Used to but not anymore.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

oh man don’t judge me i was 16 and it was 2011, but i used to follow h//arry p//otter fanpage on facebook and noticed they all came from here so eventually i decided to join it “to the source” and well :/ here i am. Nowadays i can’t even bear looking at h//p contents but here i am still smh.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

(btw your icon is amazing @alteriius <3) Aerith <3 because i’m having a ff7 rush again and i think Aerith is pretty neat. I love her a lot and i feel like the remake made her even more bubbling with life thanks to the HD stuff and i fell in love over and over again with her seeing her in the remake. And i mean, she’s goal. This specific screenshot is just v pretty. Lately i’ve been mostly using Hisoka from a3 as an icon though and i may return to it sooner than later, because i care him v much as well and identify with him a bit.

7. Why did you choose your header?

I just changed my header from the Spring chapter illustration from a3 which was them all napping together, that i had for the longest time bc i find it soft, to now just the troupe leaders in cat onesies, because i found this artwork yesterday and i love catboys. A3 charas are all precious to me i’m just happy to show them off yaknow?

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

*closes eyes and takes a deep breath* this post about FMA and the way each homunculus having an ironic death. it has over 25k notes now and it still gets notes regularly. If i had known it would have been this popular i would have toned down the cringey excitement i was showing because the reveal blew my mind - and would also have been more careful about some translation mistakes. but alas.

Else i have mostly shitposts being popular here and there or some liveblog posts that got too popular for no reason (that one post of my h//x//h liveblog that keeps coming back in my notes, my detested </3)

9. How many mutuals do you have?

No clue omg??? I am not checking the list. Probably a hundred though??? plus it’s hard to picture considering a lot of them are inactive.

10. How many followers do you have?

2,933. Most of them are inactive though, p sure i reached this number near huh 2018?? and it’s been stagnant ever since, from the followers loss and the influx of new followers (which is not really many but enough to balance out)

11. How many people do you follow?

614 blogs but yeah similar too many inactive bc i never cleaned it in the ten years i’ve been here.

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

Oh, plenty. The most i have done must have been in the dgm fandom and maybe ff7??

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

These days my dash is pretty dead, so i mostly check it the morning and the evening to catch up on the day and check it out from time to time during the day.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

erg. Not really? nothing that i can think of, or at least not in public. Like, i had arguments with people i had met on tumblr but generally it was over discord. And idk if we can call any of those arguments winning... It’s a question of disagreement or annoyance over how people treat each other and it’s been either things that broke friendships or that water under bridge could fix. Nothing conclusive and i’d hate to frame arguments as a win-or-lose situation.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

hate them so much oh my god. They feel guilttripy and insulting a lot. And if not for me i would loath to put some guilt trip over people that follow me. People are willing to listen without having to make them feel bad about it. if i think the post has info that are very important i will still reblog it but i really loathe the idea of having to guilttrip to make a point come through.

16. Do you like tag games?

They’re fun! i just really forget to do them and i just don’t like chain ones, those that are like, in reblogs? new posts or ask posts are fine but reblog chains of multiple tag games are generally stuff i avoid to not post a veeery long post on people’s dash

17. Do you like ask games?

oh yeah love them!

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I can think of a few but i’m too lazy to @ them DJFDLKFJDL and most of them aren’t people i talk to regularly enough to feel like i can cross that line of just @-ing them out of nowhere

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Nah i’m good aha

20. Tags?

what if i don’t want to tag anyone though ddlfjd anyone who wants to do it can act like i tagged them it’s fine.

here we go o7

Thank you for the tag Allen <3

#tagged #ichatalks #about me #alteriius #ichareply #tadaaa

4 notes · View notes

endmedaddy · 7 years

Text

I know I should be over this by now but I’m just so mad at you... like this must have been going on for a long time, right? so when i asked you what was wrong/if you didn’t like me and you said nothing, yeah you liked me, wtf was that? and where was the communication? and yes definitely there was shitty stuff that I did - I should never have outed you without your consent and I should never have disputed your sexuality even indirectly regardless of my opinions, but i apologized for both of those things? and i was and am genuinely sorry? also no i don’t hide behind my mental illness. i take responsibility for my actions. do you know what hiding behind a mental illness looks like? “I hit you because i can’t control my mental illness and it’s not my fault and you should put up with it ” or “i’m manipulating you because of my bpd and it’s not my fault and you should put up with it”. do you know what 100% is not hiding behind a mental illness? “I experience triggering thoughts because I was raped when I was 9 years old and I was really hoping I could confide in you.” and then if you would have just said to me just once just communicated once that you were uncomfortable, that you didn’t want to talk about it, that you wanted to forget that I told you, then i would have dropped it! i would have stopped talking to you about it! wtf! you say you didn’t communicate with me because you cared about me. that’s the opposite of caring about me. if something i say or do makes you uncomfortable you have to tell me otherwise the relationship is just gonna end up here. if you don’t want me to talk about sex or fatness or losing weight which i was proud of then fucking tell me. and btw you reblog shit about not making people feel bad about things they enjoy but then imply that me talking about dieting and losing weight was bad/meant to make you feel bad? thats hypocritical as shit. just let me be happy. I never guilt-tripped you. I asked for more attention because im a needy fuck. i honestly just came out and asked for it. how the fuck is that guilt-tripping? and if you didn’t want to give me more attention, again, you should’ve just told me. Also I never ‘threatened to go suicidal,’ that’s a literal fucking side effect of experiencing triggering intrusive thoughts and flashbacks and having no one to confide in for fear of them reacting exactly like you did. I want you to know that you were a terrible friend. you were never there for me. you were never wiling to listen to me the same way i was willing to listen to you. you seriously never made an effort in our friendship even when it was a real friendship. But i get it. I know you’ve never been in my place. I don’t expect you to know how to be there for someone without reciprocation, or how to put all of yourself into a friendship and get nothing back. I don’t expect you to know how to cling to shitty friends because you don’t have anything else. I sure as fuck don’t expect you to understand what it actually means to be treated like shit. you know what the worst part is? im scared to be around you. i saw someone who i thought was you the other day and i almost turned around and went in through a different entrance. im scared of what you’ll say to me and how much it will hurt me. how much it will strengthen my resolve to let this all go. part of me doesn’t want you know that you hurt me. doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction. but i have to be honest. i don’t miss you. im just terrified of you. and im mad. i cant be around the only other friend i think i have (? not even sure of that at this point) because you were such a cock about everything. why couldn’t you just stop talking to me or even tell me you didn’t want to be my friend without making such a huge fucking deal out of it? why couldn’t you just let this shit go without creating all this drama? fuck you. thats all. fuck you.

#rant #direct indirect #matilda

0 notes

emperor-nasch · 7 years

Text

On Why I Left the YGO Fandom

I was going to put this under a cut, but read more’s never do what they’re supposed to do on my page, so I’m forced to leave it as-is if I want to post it at all. Apologies in advance because it’s a very, veeeery long post and contains abusive experience and behaviors. And the url of my abuser (I left his accomplice out because she’s a fucking whiny bitch and would manage to yet again verbally attack me for once again putting this fat fuck’s name out there as an abuser).

Also, please don’t reblog. If you have something to say, reply or ask/im me.

So, as promised, I finally got my thoughts collected and I guess?? Somewhat organized?? On what’s been plaguing me for several months now. I know I’m basically beating a dead horse because, by now, I should be over this (because god forbid something happen to me that actually affected me long-term, I’m just being dramatic for attention, right?) but this is something I feel needs to be addressed, for my own peace of mind. So, no better time than the present I suppose.

It’s probably far from obvious, but I’ve been part of the ygo fandom for a decent while - 2011-ish? I watched the original as a kid, but was reintroduced by my now-ex through the abridged series. Along the way I’ve been blessed to meet some fantastic people, no doubt. People I wish didn’t have to see this kind of bullshit coming from me. But some of those people turned out to be…anything but fantastic.

I’m tired of not naming names, out of fear of being accused yet again of starting a witch hunt (since apparently that’s something people reaaaallly like to do these days whenever you have a problem with a nasty creep they consider their best bud and refuse to hear your side of the story) but it’s to the point where I really don’t care what happens. I’m not popular in the fandom, so it isn’t like what I say matters.

There are two-faced, evil people in this fandom and all I wanted (and still want) to do is protect others from ending up in the same situations that I found myself in.

I’m the victim of two long years of mental/emotional abuse and manipulation. My abuser is someone a lot of people probably know of, if not know well, especially those of you from the Chicago area part of the fandom. He does (or did, idk now that it’s airing Wednesdays) livestreams of new episodes. He is an enormous, loud-mouthed pervert and not-yet-convicted pedophile. He enjoys reading, writing, defending, and sharing child porn. He is narcissistic, so deeply in love with pleasuring himself (both literally and figuratively) and taking nobody’s wants and needs into consideration but his own. He is a chronic gaslighter. He fetishizes wlw and objectifies women in general (like any typical misogynistic slob). He think no means yes, and “stay away from me, I don’t want to talk to you” means “please keep trying to contact me, I actually do want to talk, I’m just being silly uwu.” He is someone whose actions have been defended by people who think “he’s just dense” instead of an abuser. His actions and the actions of those who love and adore him are ignored or justified by people who are obviously as like-minded as he is. And he hides behind the ruse of being an all out card game whiz and aficionado so people will never know what he does behind closed doors.

He goes by voices/of/chaos (slashes on purpose, btw), and I know it’s going to either be a surprise or sound like a lie because of how well liked he is here.

Primarily, he’s the reason I’ve made this choice. Him and the people who, despite knowing the kind of shit he’s done to me, still refuse to acknowledge him as the abuser that he is and choose to stand by him and support his actions. The same people are people I thought - and really, truly had hoped - were my friends, people I poured my heart and soul into and let my faith rest upon. Instead, I was given that trust back and basically told to choke on it.

It started when I’d asked to be part of the ygo panel he runs at acen. I thought it would be fitting, with how passionate I was at the time about the latter spinoffs and about things in general. However, I was told flat-out that I was “not good enough” to be on HIS panel because of my biases toward certain series and dislike of others (biases and dislikes he and I shared, mind you). Basically, because I’ve never seen gx and don’t like dm, my knowledge base was not adequate to host a panel. Yet, his gf, who now hates ygo and is stongly biased about certain series (like me), who sits up there pouting, angry, drunk (she was last year, anyway) in complete and utter silence, is definitely qualified for the job. Ok. Sure. That sounds about right. He refused to see how ridiculous the situation was (he was told this by more than just me, for the record) and instead accused me of only wanting a discounted badge - “I can’t give discounted badges to just anyone” emphasis on anyone. That was a low-fucking-blow and was the single thing that made it impossible for me to ever forgive him.

Of course, that was a more recent issue. Going back to the start, our friendship started off with me being almost duped into a poly relationship without my consent or knowledge. I was told they were breaking up and that she knew about it. I was told it was ok. That she was ok with it. What I wasn’t told was that no, they weren’t breaking up, she didn’t know what he was doing, and that his plans were to date me while he dated -and lived with- her. I didn’t find out any of that until way after the fact. To top it off, he went behind her back to try to accomplish this (she was on vacation at the time). I was then blamed for their relationship problems (that existed years before me), for making her hate ygo, for ruining their relationship, and so on and so on. He made sure to tell me this constantly, telling me my name was a ‘trigger’ for her. So now I’m a homewrecking bitch for ruining their 7+ year relationship.

And despite all of this, he actually fantasized (his words exactly, I shit you not) about me and his gf bonding over our ‘hate’ towards him. Like, excuse me? Back the fuck up mate.

If I had a nickel for every time he told me how “important” I was to him, I’d have millions in the bank. But for as much as I was told I was important, I never actually believed him. Our friendship was kept a secret online. No interactions on any social media, up until the end where he got very childish and asinine about it, and then those were only meant to shut me up. I’d asked hundreds of times to at least be tagged in things, at least mentioned half as much as he talked about the other girls in his life. He never listened. I continued to be a secret.

When confronting him on my feelings (because he only ever talked about his feelings) I was always met with rage, destructive anger, denial, unnecessary profanities being hurled my way, utter disrespect. One can only take that shit for so long. Being told how you changed someone’s life for the better in one breath, then being shit on and screamed at and told you’re not good enough in the next, being kept a secret, being denied any sort of important places or duties that he bestowed upon his other girls.

In the end, I was told I was making it all up. “I don’t know where the fuck you’re getting this.” “You must be messed up in the head.” I was told I just hated him and wanted him to suffer. Everything that went wrong became my fault and my fault alone. Actions once considered ‘gross’ and ‘awful’ by someone I considered a friend were now just a result of him being dense. DENSE. Because knowingly fucking with my head, saying I’m messed up in the head, yeah that’s just the density speaking. How didn’t I think of that before??!!

This friend put herself between us, on her own accord, then acted as if I asked her to do it. She claimed she didn’t want to speak to either of us for a while. Of course that actually meant just me because she had no problem joining him for the stupid movie that came out in January or being up his ass on the chat that Sunday. Sure, the movie was pre-planned, but at least try not to make it obvious you’re only upset at me by making sure he’s in the pictures you posted.

I was told I upset her because I ‘guilt-tripped’ her with fears of abandonment. My hands were slapped for daring to upset her, but when I mentioned how bullshit it was to see her out having a good ol’ time with the fat fuck, my concerns were passed off as nothing. As always, my needs and concerns must be pushed aside for everyone else’s.

When I finally got sick and fucking tired of him, I asked him to leave me along and to not speak to me, ever again. Funny, that was followed up by half a dozen messages all lovey-dovey (and passive-aggressive, toward the end). I thought he would have stopped after I didn’t answer the first few. But his persistence (or should I say d e n s i t y ) was incredible. Each message got sappier and sappier. The last one, though, was bitter and angry, after I once again told him to leave me alone for good. “I thought talking to me would be better than talking to no one.”

A few weeks go by. I begin to tell my story. Tell what happened. I’m accused of starting a witch hunt by someone who once tried to help me. She threatened to leave the chat - which stirred the pot big time, everyone freaked out. I threatened to leave, no one gave a fuck. So, yet again, I was made out to be the big bad guy because I upset the ygo princess by talking about the guy who abused me to the point of exhaustion. I didn’t threaten him. I didn’t ask people to go out and attack him. I was simply sharing my experiences with people who genuinely wanted to know what had happened. All it took was one wailing princess to change everyone’s demeanor.

So I did what I should’ve done after this all happened in the first place - I left. Told everyone they could have their safe space back that I was accused of ruining. And ever since, I really haven’t been too emotionally invested in anything ygo.

These people took something that once felt like a niche I belonged in, and made it hostile and unwelcoming. They say the ygo fandom is a fandom full of mentally ill people who are finding solace in something wonderful. For a while, I believed that. I know better now.

For every person that is genuine in that fandom, there’s ten others who are shitty, who make other fans fucking miserable. I was abused, my spirit beaten and broken, and all I got was several kicks in the ass and everyone turning their heads away from it all. This fandom is toxic. This fandom is littered with people who manipulate and abuse and puke their social justice bullshit over something that’s supposed to be enjoyable. It’s a fandom where popular people are exempt from being called out on shitty behavior. Where if you have enough followers, enough of a fanbase, you’re immortal. I can’t change that. The only thing I can do is remove myself and go somewhere that I consider a safe space. And this fandom isn’t it.

There are…exceptions, of course. Those characters I fell in love with prior to this shit hitting the fan are characters that will forever mean the world to me. Characters who I don’t have to associate with these people. I’m pretty sure there’s only one, but one is enough. He’s been my safe space, my heaven, the one thing that for six years hasn’t changed and has always been there for me.

But the rest? Y’all can have it. I don’t want any part of it anymore. All thanks to two rotten ass people who can’t even admit to their own wrongdoings.

As a final note to those of you who I continue to follow here, I promise you aren’t the ones at fault. If anything, you’re the ones who have kept me grounded. I’m going to continue following you guys regardless of my feelings toward the fandom. Thank you for being decent human beings. I couldn’t ask any more of you.

0 notes