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inkymoon16 · 7 months

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Matchmaking

My masterlist

Summary:

Remus Lupin x Reader

The only empty seat on the train is with Sirius, James, Lily and their friends. Since it's a full moon Remus is not on the train. But they think you two would be a good match...

✨

Naturally you were in a rush. You flew through the magical barrier at Platform 9 ¾ and went careening around the corner with your luggage almost falling off the cart. Parents waved goodbye to their children through tear filled eyes but you pushed through the throng of the crowd. You unloaded your things to a train conductor and boarded the train, slightly out of breath.

Boarding the train always made you a little bit downcast because there was no one to wave goodbye to. When your parents died in a car accident, your aunt whisked you away to an orphanage. Alone and cold, your world changed for the better the day you got the Hogwarts letter in the mail. One of the headmasters at the school was the same as you, a witch.

You searched the train for an empty seat but as you passed full compartment after full compartment your heart sank. There wasn’t a seat to be found. You didn’t really make friends your first year so there was no one to rely on to save you an empty spot.

The first thing you heard was their laughter that drifted into the hallway. You peered through the glass windows to see an empty seat. Now faced with actually inserting yourself into a group of people your skin broke into a cold sweat. You must have stalled for a couple seconds too long because a girl with flame red hair and pale skin opened the compartment doors for you and waved you in.

“The train is so packed today! We have an open seat if you want to sit with us though.” She said. You awkwardly shuffled in, sitting down next to a boy with black hair and an impish smile. “I’m Lily by the way. This is James, Sirius, Marlene, Peter, and Mary.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“What year are you?” Sirius inquired.

“Second year.”

They all broke out into a smile. “Yeah, us too.”

As comfortable conversation broke out among the compartment you found you had a lot in common with the rest of the group. It was very easy to sit among them and their company was good fun. They seemed to like you.

At dinner that night they invited you to sit with them which gave you hope for new friends. They were a raucous group, with little care for the rules. They laughed loud, talked with their mouths full, and poked fun at each other. But they all clearly cared deeply for each other.

“Hey, I think Y/N will get along really well with Moony. They’re both so quiet.” James said. You gave an awkward smile at the mention of being quiet. You hated being referred to as quiet. Somehow that word had such a negative connotation that you just couldn’t stand.

Lily looked over at you. “You’re right. But something tells me that Y/N isn’t that quiet.” She smiled at you, as if reading your thoughts.

“Who’s… Moony?” You asked.

“Only our best friend!” Sirius boomed. “His family is still on holiday traipsing some sort of mystical mountains saving animals or some other ridiculous bullshit.”

“He’ll be returning tomorrow though. We’re throwing a party in his honor just because. You should come to Gryffindor tower. Our parties are somewhat legendary.” James said, puffing his chest with a pompous flair.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You responded, smiling a real smile for the first time in what felt like ages.

As you walked through the drafty castle halls towards the Gryffindor common room you couldn’t help but let your imagination wander about “Moony”. You had kept to yourself last year and you really hadn’t seen this group of people before. You’d seen Lily in the library often which made you feel drawn to her. They all agreed that you’d like Moony so maybe this could lead to a good friendship. Hopefully he was attractive.

They had given you the password at dinner last night so you entered the Gryffindor tower with ease. The common room was crowded with lots of people. It was loud, but not raucous yet. You spotted Lily’s red hair from across the room and made your way over. The common room was cozy despite its massive size. Spiral staircases led their way up to the dorms.

“Glad to see you here!” Lily said genuinely.

James and Sirius join your company and you all chat about your first day of classes. Their easy joking manner made conversation flow effortlessly. Your eyes roamed the common room, looking at all the people that had come to this party.

Sirius caught you marveling at all the people. “See I told ya. Legends.”

You laughed at his comment. “Who’s that?” Across the room, near the record player stood a mysterious looking boy. He had light colored hair and a mousy look to his face. He was attractive in a studious way.

James followed your gaze. “Oh him? That’s Moony!” He grinned. “I knew it. I’ve never been wrong in my life. Knew ya’d like him.”

You blushed, embarrassed. They ushered you over to him and James gave him a slap on the back.

“Remus, this is my dear friend Y/N.”

So his real name wasn’t Moony. You wondered where he got that nickname from.

You gave a shy smile. “Hey, I’m Y/N.”

You two talked the entire night, the conversation never falling silent. James and Sirius were right, you guys had a lot in common. He was a very sweet boy and had a smart insight to many topics you talked about.

The thing you shared the most with Remus was your taste in music. You discovered that you both shared a love for your favorite singer, David Bowie. He put on his favorite record and Bowie boomed across the entire common room. It was awesome.

#remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #the marauders fanfic #marauders headcanon #marauders fandom #hp marauders #harry potter

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alightwhendarknessfell · 4 years

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Dear Andy,

I have debated posting this for a while, mostly because I wanted to get it right. With the WSTW re-record release approaching and things coming to light about the actions of a former member I feel that now is as good a time as ever. I don’t know if you’ll read this, but it is something that over the past year I have wanted to do. I have been unfair and overcritical and at times, downright mean. I was judging you and your actions based on my own interpretations. The events of the past few weeks have shown me that those interpretations were wrong. So here it goes…

I have been a fan of not only Black Veil, but of you going back to 2008-2009, when everything was still on Myspace. I vividly remember eagerly awaiting the release of WSTW and making my mom drive me to the local Hot Topic to pick it up the day it came out. I remember going to my first show in a small little bar in Raleigh, NC that sadly is no more, and I remember being dressed in war paint along with my best friends. I know that it may not seem like it, but I to this day consider myself a fan. The band that you created was pivotal for my teenage years and to this day the community you helped build means the world to me.

I will admit that it was my passion and love for that community that was the root of my criticism. Despite what you or others reading this may think, I do not hate you, not at all. There have been times that I felt let down, cheated, and disappointed as a fan, but the events of the past few weeks have really opened my eyes. I will get that to that point, but I did not and do not hate you. As a person I speak up, at times when I probably shouldn’t, but I do when I feel strongly about something. I have certainly made the mistake too many times of speaking before I had all the information or trusting my own judgement on things, I knew nothing about. I am trying to get better at not doing that.

I can see how some of the things I have said, condoned, or even given a platform to were mean, uncalled for, hurtful, and regrettably untrue at times. I have had this blog and been in this fandom for over a decade. I was 13-14 years old when I first made this blog, and I am almost 25 now. I look back on some of the things I said, and I deeply regret them. In 2015 this blog was accidentally deleted, and honestly it was probably for the best that some of my earlier posts are gone. Regardless, I have let myself get carried away or swept up in drama perpetuated by others (and sometimes myself). I have said things, even in the past few years that I shouldn’t have, things that could be hurtful. While my intention was never to hurt you, I think it’s safe to say that myself and others lose sight of the impact of our words when they are said behind a screen, to people we think will never read them. As a teenager or even in my early 20’s I didn’t think that someone ‘famous’ would see what I wrote, surely it would all get lost in the sea of tweets, posts and comments.

That does not make saying those things right.

I would like to personally apologize to you for not considering the fact that you might see some of those words. That you are a person with emotions just like everyone else, that could be hurt by them. I am sorry for letting others get away with saying cruel things, even if I pushed back on them or didn’t directly comment. I would be lying if I said that the fame (or infamy), status and notoriety I got for my words didn’t affect my actions. It’s sad, but true that often times more attention comes out of negativity than kindness.

As someone who has been bullied and suffers from mental illnesses, I should have left some things unsaid. I do not know you personally, I only know what you have shared. Seeing you speak about your own struggles with mental illness over the recent years has really given me a much-needed reality check. I have related to some of the things you’ve talked about more than you know. Some of the things that others and I have been critical of were clearly not the result of malicious intent but of your own hardships that we were blind to.

I think people forget, and I know I did, that when this band took off you were just a teenager yourself. To think that at 18 or 19 someone in your situation would act ‘right’ all of the time and never make mistakes is ridiculous. Not only were you a kid trying to figure the world out, but I think it has become clear that you were dealing with people who used you for their own selfish gains. That would be hard for anyone, regardless of their age.

I have never dealt with addiction on a personal level, but I emphasize with whatever pain you had to endure in your own struggles with it. You are right when you said that no one sees themselves becoming an alcoholic at twenty years old, and I am sorry for not being more sympatric in the past. One of my biggest regrets in all of this was hearing that during the time that I was probably the harshest to you (around 2016) was when you were struggling the most with trying to be sober.

I am happy that you are sober, I am glad that you were able to make it out of that cycle that consumes so many people. I hope that others who are struggling are inspired by your dedication to living a healthier life. In an industry where it is too easy to fall back into toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms, I am glad you have found strength.

I would like to speak on why I have been so negative in the past (and at times hateful). As I said, what you created in Black Veil meant a lot to me and so many others. This band has been a part of my life for so long and I have met some of the most amazing people through it. I have met people that I can honestly say I love because of this community. This fan base gave me a home when I felt alone and gave me something to identify with as a kid. That’s why I started cosplaying as you, sure it’s a hobby of mine and aesthetically I am a fan of 80’s glam metal, but it was mostly to pay tribute. I am not a ‘traditional’ artist in the sense of paintings and drawings, my media is makeup and costume. The WSTW/STWOF era is what I consider my era as a fan, the one that I identified with the most.

I admit, I was upset when it ended. That’s a stupid reason to be upset, obviously all bands change and there’s nothing wrong with that, but that’s how I felt. The source of my jadedness was not the adoption of a new look, it was deeper than that. Around 2016 was when I had the most animosity because I saw what I thought at the time was you ‘giving up’ on Black Veil. I felt like the ‘old’ fans weren’t wanted anymore and like most people, I felt the need to protect and defend what I loved.

With the introduction of your solo act, it felt like the community I cared so much about was being destroyed and I couldn’t understand why you were doing that. I was blinded by my own judgements. What came off as hate was really just hurt. I know I am not the only ‘OG’ fan who felt that way, and I took that to mean I was justified. In hindsight it is clear, none of us had any idea what was really going on with the band and certain individuals who were bringing it down. At various times it seemed like you hated the old era and as a fan who stood there from the beginning that felt like a gut punch. I let my own feelings make me bitter, and that was wrong. I let others fuel that bitterness, including ones who were actively stabbing you in the back.

I remember around 2012 I made a very critical post of an article you did in Kerrang talking about your struggles with alcohol. I criticized you for not saying more and even said that what you shared was nothing in comparison to a former member’s struggles with addiction. When I received this DM from that individual saying that they approved of my words and that I was ‘spot on’ I felt embolden. I deeply, deeply regret letting such a toxic and horrible person influence me. That post I wrote was wrong, ignorant and immature. That post was one that got deleted in 2015, but I still regret having written something so heartless.

(screen shot is from 2012, this was a Twitter DM from said individual. I did not share that post with them, they found it on their own and contacted me. )

I see now that you were not turning your back on Black Veil, you were trying to save it. The interview you did with Ryan Downey brought me to tears. I cannot imagine what it feels like to have something you spent your whole life fighting for be taken over by an abusive, evil, and selfish person. I feel like I have gained a better perspective of where you and the band were at over the past three weeks and I am sorry you are not free to say more. I am sorry for defending this person because they did not deserve a single fan.

Some who takes advantage of another’s passion and youth because they lack the creativity and ability to do it on their own is stealing, plain and simple. I am sorry that you have been tethered to such a horrible person for so long. I deeply admire your perseverance, strength and determination in taking back what that person tried to take. To be willing to destroy something you love and care about to keep it from the hands of evil is an incredible act of dedication to it.

I would like to end this with a few more things. I know I have been critical of people that you love. I do admit I have taken those criticisms too far at times where they crossed into bullying. I am sorry to Juliet for being unfairly harsh, I am not a hateful person, but I have allowed myself to act that way. There are certainly things that I have said that I stand by, and there are things that I may not agree with or understand, but I think there are ways that I can voice my own opinions respectfully, without being mean.

In an ideal world I would love to sit down with you, or anyone else I may have hurt and have a discussion about it, but hopefully this gets my point across well enough. I do not intend to delete my blog or stop accepting posts (although I will try and make an effort to get rid of toxic posts. It will just take a while to sort through them all). While I can’t promise to never say anything critical again, I can promise to stop the hatefulness. I am promising to make a real effort to clean up some of the toxicity towards you that is unfair and unwarranted. To facilitate a more respectful, yet still honest and open dialogue. I do take pride in my blog being one of the last places of discussion and community for fans, but perhaps without the cruelty that been allowed to fester. If you are someone reading this who comes here to be mean and hateful, I’m sorry but it has to stop. This was never intended to be a ‘hate blog’, but I will openly admit I understand why people thought it was.

If you take anything away from this, or if you even read this, please let it be this. I consider myself a supporter of you and what you have created. I want nothing more than to see you succeed and be happy. I hope that you are able to overcome the struggles in your life and that you are able to find meaning and true happiness if you have not already. Although it may not appear so, I have always routed for you. It may seem like nothing you do is ever good enough for the fans (or at least some of them) but for me at least that is not true. You have been given an impossible task of trying to please thousands of people, of never being allowed to fuck up, and having past transgressions brought up again and again. For that I am sorry, and I am sorry for having played a part in that.

You deserve to be treated as a person, not as an object or persona. I whole heartedly believe you are a decent person, who maybe has flaws and room for improvement, but so do I and so does everyone else. I do believe there are fundamentally bad people out there, people who deserve the karma they have coming. Those are the people that purposefully hurt, lie, manipulate, cheat and deceive others for personal gain. I think especially in the past few weeks we have been shown who those people are. Yet, I don’t believe you are one of those people.

To everyone out there who is reading this, please give people the chance to change. Be okay with admitting when you are wrong. Allow people to grow and become better. Over the past year my mentality and perspective on the world has shifted dramatically. Two years ago I couldn’t have written this post, but as I enter my mid-twenties I am able to look back and say ‘this is not the person I want to be, this is not the person I want people to think I am’. So all I can do is admit my shortcomings, apologize, and be better.

Andy, if you read this and made it to the end, thank you. You are in no way obligated to respond to or accept any of what I said. I just wanted to put this out there with the hopes that it in some way, or that some part of this, lessened some of the hurt I regrettably have caused.

- Ren <3

P.S the banner of my blog is not calling you or the band trash. It’s a fan term for when someone is really into something. Saying “I am ______ trash” means you love that thing. I know it’s weird, but it’s supposed to be an inside joke for other fans, it’s a positive thing. So, when I say “I am 100% 2010 Black Veil trash” I am talking about myself being a massive fan of that era. I don’t think you or the band is trashy, if I did, I wouldn’t be spending money on tickets, merch and shoving blue contacts into my eyes for 10+ years.

#Andy Biersack #Andy Black #Black Veil Brides #BVB #alightwhendarknessfell

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hotpotrandomfics · 3 years

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Sixth Year AU: Missing Part 1

Summary: It was a lone night for Jason, one that he thought he’d spend with his girlfriend but with a series of events that went on in the previous year she had be come distant. Stood up for another night, Jason tries to make his way back to Hogwarts only to find a foe lurking...

Word Count: 2,456

It was Saturday evening in Hogsmeade, and the streets were buzzing with the sound of Hogwarts students going through the shops. Jason had been at the Three Broomsticks having a pint of butterbeer alone. It wasn't his intention to be alone, Merula and he was supposed to have had a date. She had to cancel because she wanted to train, or vent, after what happened at the last cursed vault. Especially when it came to Rakepick betrayal.

For now, he was alone and sipping from his cup. The taste wasn't as enjoyable without Merula here, he thought. He looked around, seeing the other couples sharing their pints, kissing, and flirting.

"Are you alright dear?" Madam Rosmerta was doing her rounds cleaning tables. She noticed Jason was a bit downcasted and took notice Merula wasn't with him. "She didn't come with you?"

Jason shook his giving a sad smile to Madam Rosmerta.

"Hey now, you're both young, and it's okay dear. I'm sure she has her reason, all women do," Madam Rosmerta patted his shoulder. "Hey, it's getting late. Why don't you make your back to Hogwarts, eh?"

"That would be best. Thank you Madam Rosmerta." Jason left a few Galleons on the table and made his way outside. He looked around and saw the last of the students trickling out of the town or heading into shops before they closed. "Hmmm."

Jason walked to Honeydukes and entered the sweets store. After a few minutes, he stepped out with a bag of Merula favorite sweets. He may not have been able to enjoy a date today, but he wasn't going to not do something for her.

"I really should be getting through." Jason made his way down the quiet streets of the town. "Hopefully this will get her to smile."

From the corner of his eye, Jason caught sight of a shadow heading into an alley. Against his better judgment, he walked towards the alley to see who was there. No one, not a single soul.

"Guess I must be seeing things," Jason sighed.

"And you failed to keep awareness of your surroundings. I thought I taught you better," said an all too familiar woman voice.

Jason turned around, pulling his wand, but his wand was sent flying.

"Rakepick." Jason stared at his former teacher with contempt. "Here to kill me?"

"In time but for now," Rakepick motioned her hand, and two men in red robes grabbed Jason from behind, "you're coming with us. Don't think I forgot what you did to me. That trick by Severus was clever but not clever enough. He should have given you something deadlier."

Jason struggled and screamed but was knocked out by one of the men holding him. A few students witness the sight before Rakepick and her associates apparated with Jason in tow.

The next day, the Great Hall was bustling with the gossip of what transpired the night before. Penny ran into the Great Hall, looking for her friends. Penny found Rowan, Charlie, Talbot, and Chiara and pulled them to the side.

"Guys," Penny was in near tears.

"Penny, what's the matter?" Talbot asked.

"Jason," Penny tried holding the tears, but the streams just wouldn't stop.

"What about Jason?" Charlie looked around the hall. "I don't see him." "He's been abducted! By Rakepick!" Penny shouted to them in tears.

"He's what?!" Rowan couldn't help but believe it. He tried laughing it off as some messed up joke, but Penny wouldn't make a joke like this.

"Oh no! Does Merula know?" Chiara asked.

"Do I know what? And why are you crying, Haywood?" Merula looked at five friends with a raised brow.

"I uh..."

"Merula, it's not easy for us to say this, but Jason was kidnapped." Talbot stood in front of her. "By Rakepick."

Silence.

"No, no, no, no, no, no..."

Why? Why him? Of all the people to kidnap, why him?! Merula couldn't believe what she was being told. Her heart sank into her stomach, and her hands wouldn't stop trembling. Yesterday she was supposed to go out with him to Hogsmeade, but she just couldn't let her desire to make Rakepick pay settle. Was she at fault for not going with him? If she did would she have been able to help him?

"Why him?" Merula looked down as she shook with rage. "Why him, dammit!"The friends looked at her with concern. Chiara and Penny walked towards her, but Merula turned her back and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Merula never ran so fast in her life as she made her way to Dumbledore's office. She stood in front of the statue that led to the office of the old wizard. The moment she took a step toward it, the platform raised upwards, allowing her to make her way up. She swung the door open stomping in as Dumbledore was speaking to the four people in his office. They all looked at the Slytherin girl with confusion as to wonder how was she capable of being so rude.

"Miss Synde, to what do I owe this intrusion?" Dumbledore asked.

"You fool! How could you not know? Are you unaware of what goes on your school grounds and the area around? Jason is was taken by Rakepick! AND YOU SIT HERE NOT DOING ANYTHING?!" Merula snapped at the older man. Dumbledore was a fool who waited for problems to solve themselves. It's always others who were doing the heavy lifting.

"Miss Snyde, I can assure you we have everything under control." Dumbledore rose from his seat and made his way to her. "My dear, we will find him."

"How can you be sure?!" Merula looked up at him. Her face flushed with anger and tears. "Jason has been the one to solve all of the problems here, and you sit in your office doing nothing?"

"I can assure you that we are doing everything we-"

"Well, maybe you need to do more!" Merula snapped. "Merula," Bill walked over to her and Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore is doing all he can, but you need to have faith in him."

Merula hadn't really taken notice of who else was present for her meltdown. The fact Bill Weasely was here didn't make her feel better. She noticed two other individuals making her way.

"Dumbledore already contacted the Ministry, and they sent us these two Aurors who've been on Rakepick tail for some time." Bill smiled at her. "I'm sure we can count on them-"

"I still don't believe a word you say. Especially not the word of Aurors." Merula left the office before Dumbledore could say anything about her actions.

"Professor, she is-" Bill tried to speak only for Dumbledore to a raised hand silencing Bill.

"She cares for him deeply. Maybe the only person she cares for at all. We must find him before it's all too late." Dumbledore stroked his beard as he tried to collect his thoughts on how to proceed in the matter. If he's not quick on the issue, the family would have lost two sons.

As Meurla is making her way out of Dumbledore's office, she sees Professor Snape making his way to Dumbledore's office. Snape glanced at her and before continuing on his way. He seemed unease, but it was hard to tell if he was.

Merula slammed the door to her dorm room, sifting through her drawers and tossing clothes onto her bed.

"Merula?" a groggy Ismelda said as she sat up in her bed. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"Leaving. Oh, okay- what?!" Ismelda tossed off her sheets and stopping over to her. "Why are you leaving?!"

"I have to!" Merula said as she stuffed her bag frantically.

"What has gotten into you?"

"Rakepick..." Merula looked at her friend.

"What about her? You'd be safer, not leaving." Ismelda brushed her hair out of her eye.

"Rakepick..." Merula bit her lip as she started getting teary-eyed. "She has Jason..."

"What do you mean?" Ismelda asked.

"She kidnapped Jason! What about that you don't get?!" Merula shouted.

Ismelda looked at her friend with concern. She knew all too well how Jason was an influence on Merula. Positive or negative. The fact that her house prefect has helped her with her own issues in the past softens up her impression of him. A sense of dread filled her gut as she wondered about her prefect.

"I'm gonna go find him," Merula closed her bag and started to the door before Ismelda grabbed her shoulder. "What?"

"I'm going with you."

"No."

"I wasn't asking permission," Ismelda commented as she grabbed a bag of her own and stuffed it with some clothes, "I owe your boyfriend a debt for helping."

The violet-eyed girl wanted to argue but was happy someone was going to stick this out with her.

"We won't get far with just the two of us. Chances of us getting kicked out of Hogwarts are possible."

"I hate here anyways," Ismelda said as dressed herself, grabbing her bag ready to leave.

"We need to convince his friends," Merula scratched her chin.

"We'll have to wait until the evening. Should we send an owl to them?"

"Good idea," Merula placed her bag down and wrote a few letters. Now she needed to do was bide her time till night time. She hopes she can convince them because alone she's not going to get far.

That night, Merula and Ismelda were waiting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. One by one, her friends began to show up wondering what Merula is planning.

"It took you long enough. I'm going to keep this short. I'm leaving tonight to after Rakepick and find Jason." Merula looked at them all with determination and desperation in her eyes. "But I can't do this alone. I need your help."

"Have you any idea where to go?" Tulip asked.

"No."

"Then why call us if you don't have a clue?"

"Jason needs help!" Merula snapped. "I'm not gonna standby and wait to hear him be announced dead in that stupid Daily Prophet!"

Tulip went silent and looked down as did half the group of teens. They wanted to help but were scared themselves. Jason one time or another helped them without any question. Should his friends hesitate when making this discussion? "Merula..." Penny finally spoke up. "We want to help, but we have to think this through."

"What is there to think of?!"

"We can't just leave!" Andre said. "Merula, we all care about Jason, but we should leave this to the Aurors! I'm sure they'll be able to save him. Trust Dumbledore!"

"Trust them? If you haven't gotten a clue Andre, what has Dumbledore done to solve the curse vault issues? Nothing! Aurors, what have they done? Nothing!" Merula stomped towards him and grabbing him by his scarf. "Tell me, do you value quidditch, fashion, or your friends?"

"My friends." Andre looked at her nervous.

"Snyde, we all want to help but..." Rowan spoke now.

"Khanna! You should be the one to want to save him the most! He's your best friend!"

"I..." Rowan bit hard on his lip, contemplating what she said.

"I thought you cared for him as much I do, but you don't," Merula said as she made her way out of the class with Ismedla. "Jason wouldn't have hesitated if it came to any of you."

With that, the teens were left contemplating what they were told. Merula words cut them more profound than any insult they have ever received. Now they had to deal with an inner conflict of making a choice. Save their friend or leave it to fate to solve it. They were scared, and understanding so Rakepick nearly killed half of them but failed. Would Jason be alright?

Elsewhere, the fears of those friends were slowly unfolding. Jason woke to the sensation of a cold bucket of water being slung on him. He looked around groggily, seeing a dimly lit room of stone and a metal door with the silhouette of two figures entering into the room, one being the witch that captured him.

"What the-?!" Jason looked around seeing the two red cloak men with Rakepick. "Rakepick! You disgusting-!" Jason tried running at the woman but couldn't far as his wrist were chained to the wall.

"Oh, come now. That's no way for a gentleman to speak to a lady," Rakepick smirked at him deviously.

"You're the farthest thing I would call a lady," Jason stared at her with disdain. "When I get out of here I'm gonna make you pay for what you did to Meri and my friends!"

"Ha! You won't be able to do as you say." Rakepick walked up to the chained boy and grabbing his chin, digging her nails into his jaw. "See, I'm going to need you to find the vault."

Jason spat in Rakepick's face and proceeded to throw every bit of profanity at his disposal. Rakepick didn't take kindly to this form of insult. Rakepick wiped her face and pulled her wand out, sticking it under his neck.

"If you want to kill me, you better get it over with. Nothing you can do would make me help you," Jason smirked, trying to appear confident despite being scared, "so Patricia, are you the strong witch you claim?"

"Oh, I plan to kill you but not now though," Rakepick slapped Jason with the back of her hand. "But I am going to break you, the hero of Hogwarts. Then I'm going to finish your friends one by one. Starting with Merula."

"You better stay the hell away from her! I'll rip your damned heart out!" Jason shouted as he struggled in his chains. "I swear it!"

"No, you won't." Rakepick raised her wand and with a grin of malice she cast Crucio, with glee. Jason screamed as his muscle contorted as the pain rushed through him.

The screams of the boy couldn't escape as the sound of crashing waves, and a thunderstorm drowned the wails of agony. The pain shooting through him felt like a constant blaze, splitting the pureblood down to his very core. "Is this what Merula suffered?" Jason thought as the pain was unrelenting. Before it could get any worse Rakepick stopped as Jason collapsed to the ground, heaving.

"Tighten his chains," Rakepick order the two men, "I have more for him soon. But for now," Rakepick made her way out of the cold room, "I need to get my tools."

Whatever Rakepick had planned for him wasn't going to be good. Jason hoped his friends would be safe and hope Merula would stay away. He began to lose consciences with his last thoughts being of his favorite witch.

"Meri..."

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hp hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm fanfiction #hphm mc #jason piscius aurelius de leone #merula snyde #jacob's sibling x merula #jason x merula #talbott winger #ismelda murk #bill weasley #chiara lobosca #patricia rakepick

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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years

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| what is worth | j.jh

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader genre: angst a/n: based on this request! i’ll be sticking with idol!jaehyun for this oneshot just because it suits and makes sense. such a challenging one to write ^^ i hope it meets your liking! 💜🧡💛

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people always said life is a roller coaster. they are full of ups and downs, and that the ride was so unpredictable. dating jaehyun was the exact definition of the phrase. you knew that for sure, however, it never really hit you until it actually happened.

more of you waited for it happen.

the nightmares continued to haunt the you who hid behind the walls of your already-low self esteem. what was scary was that they rather seep into the cracks of it than knocking it down brick by brick. they got you walking backwards though. you knew completely that you would be able hurdle over the fog of insults and bashing, but that was only the sight— what you see. the fog actually came in with poison that was slowly killing you inside.

these ordeals you were facing included that you were not able to go out in the public normally, hiding your identity as much as you could, and die-hard jaehyun biased fans calculating or eyeing your every move. there was a reason of the latter.

jaehyun recently posted a series of pictures of you and him. he explained how he was grateful to have met you, and how he was blessed to have you in his life. knowing the risks of dating a non-celebrity, he still forgo with the idea. and because he liked you a lot, he would do anything to make you notice his motives.

a friend invited you to attend a private fanmeet of nct 127’s. you knew of the group but never really paid any attention to. that was probably the reason why jaehyun was assertive into getting in contact with you. you were seated at the very front of the audience and he giggled inside to see you trying your best to stay awake at the three-hour long event. to him at the time, there was something about you that made you appear in his spotlight.

when jaehyun knew you won the random pick to have a personal selfie with the members, his whole body was filled with euphoria. he still remembered the scent of your perfume, the gentle colors of your eyeshadow and especially the shy smile you wore as you stood beside him to fit in the frame. it was at the end of the event when you picked out a bad-written post-it letter —in your pockets— from jaehyun, wanting to take you out on a date and left his digits for you contact with him.

it was an interesting date too and it turned out you had a lot of things in common. it was a gentleman move from him to start off friends with you. you took a liking for him because of that. you saw a normal person behind the name ‘jaehyun’. half a year had passed since then and he managed to get you to say yes to being his girlfriend.

regardless of having conversations and good agreements with jaehyun, he respected how you needed privacy and understood that you were still not confident enough to be in the limelight. he let you take your time.

now in bed and freshed up for sleep, jaehyun said he’d be coming to your apartment after receiving the green light from the company. they gave him a week off, so he wanted to spend half of it with his family and you.

whilst scrolling down a social media platform, you came across his post and some supportive words from fans. having to feel that people loved jaehyun to be happy and contented made you realise that there was good in humanity. it seemed that the nightmare and fog faded away, but nature has it that it was unstoppable.

you didn’t know how you ended up in that certain site and inside you was an urging push to see what was written. your fingers trembled at the thosands of anonymous comments filled with hatred, not to jaehyun but with you. sure the pictures showed only of your figure and the ever-sweet gestures couple would usually and normally do. yet, there were words that attacked your fragile heart in this matter.

“jaehyun deserves better.” “bet you she lured him with her figure.” “even if she hides her face, i know she’s ugly.” “why did he fall in love with someone like her?” “one thing for sure, he’d leave her eventually.”

at this point the nightmares turned worst. the poisoned fog completely killed you. that wall of self-esteem crumbled down, its bricks hit you with its edges and before you even knew it, your eyes clouded with tears, blurring the hatred words towards you. it was as if you could hear the words mocking you in whispers, where they deafened you briefly that you didn’t hear jaehyun entering your apartment.

jaehyun heard hiccups and small sobs coming from your room. oh dear she’s crying again..

he pushed the thin gap of the door, quietly stepping in and calling your name. “y/n..” he said, uncovering the blankets and his heart plummeted to the ground. he knew of your struggles because he knew how it felt like to be pressured into reaching that certain perfection.

“oh babe.. c'mere.” he embraced you in his arms. without a word said, it wasn’t the right time to talk about now. a hug was appropriate.

you felt an instant regret for dampening his sweater with your salty tears. “t-they have other and better things to talk about but they really had to choose to do this to us.” you began to speak after calming down from his hug.

he loved how you thought of him too even if the matter was completely about you. and the next words you uttered got him off guard.

“yuno, i think i’m starting to be afraid of cameras.”

jaehyun hummed, waiting for you to explain further. it was the first time you called him that name with feelings of discomfort, whereas he was used to you calling him with positivity.

“paparazzis and obsessive fans would do so much just to get a picture of us. i don’t know but they might’ve distorted my face or create gossip to spread around.” you now laid on your back, eyes on the ceiling and noticed the shuffles from him.

he saw your unlocked phone and his eyes grew realizing that you stumbled upon negative comments. “yeah i know, they do that to stir up something that’s already there.” he said, pulling you again for an embrace.

clearing his throat, there was pain in his voice. “i thought i received some fan letters. took me a millisecond to know they were hate letters, telling me i should look for someone better.”

“i see, you’ve had it hard too..” you tightened your grip around him.

“it’s been challenging for the both of us.” he kissed your forehead. “but i know we’ll make it.”

there was a spark of doubt trying illuminate inside you, yet the thought was quite insisting.

“i try not to think too much because i know it’s not worth it, but i couldn’t sleep peacefully at night knowing that it’d haunt me again.” you sighed, pressing face hard into his chest. “i may sound stupid and unreasonable but before you came here, i wanted to call things off, like breaking up with-”

“whoa hold on y/n.” he sat up, making you fall to the pillow and he stared into your eyes intently.

“you’re precious to me. i’m not giving away something i worked hard in pursuing for. they can say whatever they want but it doesn’t affect me. you are really worth the prize i was given. breaking up would only make things worse, we’ll both be hurt and it won’t be easy. seeing you this way, sometimes i blame myself for posting too much and getting you exposed into the world.”

silence showered you as you heard your boyfriend. why were you thinking of breaking up with him so suddenly anyway? was it to calm the nightmares haunting you? was it to push away the people who disapprove of your relationship with him? or was it to stop their expectations on you to meet the girlfriend standard? if it was any of these, then you would really think jaehyun doesn’t deserve you. you pressed your lips and blinked several times to avoid the tears from falling.

“no, it’s never your fault and you shouldn’t blame yourself.. i should’ve seen your posts as a sign of your happiness. i think it’s just me who has to adapt and get used to feedback from everyone. people just have awful standards.” you trailed off.

“babe, talk to me if you’re feeling down. call me if you think you’re falling apart. lean on me if you’re in need of support.“ his eyes were on the verge of welling. he thought that he’d stay strong for you. he was your pillar even on unstable foundation.

your lips started to quiver at the gloominess and low spirits between the two of you. “i’m sorry if i said i was breaking up with you..”

he held your hands in his, interlocking them to tell you that it was alright and he understood your position.

“hey, i’m always here to remind you that you’re worth to be mine. you aren’t like those who try to impress through looks and body- well you did impress me when you slept ten minutes in into the fanmeet, eyes all droopy and sleepy and-”

“i was finally starting to feel encouraged and my spirits finally lift up. but seriously yuno, that was so uncalled for!” jaehyun heard you hold back a giggle as you hovered over him, attempting to attack him with tickles.

“hey- stop- agh! i just wanted to see the smile i’ve fallen for!” he managed to flip you over, and you laid there tiredly. “i wanted to see you smile.” he leaned down for a kiss, where your hands held his neck. “i love you so much.”

when he said that and hugged you again, the fear of the haunting nightmares disappeared and that the fog dispersed too. you grasped everything. jaehyun pulled you out of the sleep, and was the warmth to your suffering.

“i love you more than you know, yuno.” you smiled into the kiss.

“y/n, was that pun deliberate?” he asked.

“maybe.”

people always said life is a roller coaster. they are full of ups and downs, and that the ride was so unpredictable. what they didn’t tell you was that you had the choice to scream out of fear or to enjoy the thrill.

you used to scream in fear, but now the ride was something to enjoy as jaehyun assured that he would be with you all throughout.

#nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #yoonoh #yoonoh nct #jaehyun x reader #yoonoh x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun oneshot

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thewitchdump · 4 years

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Master of Puppets

Gather around folks for the first bout of fighting in this year’s annual LNU Fighting Festival! In the first round we’ll witness a match between fan favorite Diana Cavendish and underdog Chloé Mercier!

Part of @dianacavendishisgay ‘s ZipperAU, Check out their blog for more

The gathered crowd at the Luna Nova University Arena went wild as the voice of professor Chariot Du Nord boomed through the loudspeakers of the massive structure. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to welcome you to our annual fight festival, here at LNU!”

Down below, deep in the bowels of the arena, Chariots’ voice and the following raucous cheers of the crowd were nearly completely swallowed up. Not that Diana minded. She had enough input to deal with, with that damned wire ticking away inside her, administering micro-shocks that were too small to cause harm, but just big enough to be massively irritating.

With a sigh, she rose off the bench that stood in the middle of the changing room between the rows of lockers, and stretched. “It’s almost time now.” She mused while her eyes wandered over to the clock hung above the door.

Another muffled wave of cheers confirmed her speculation. SHe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to block out the annoying ‘tick, tick, tick’ of the wire inside her. “You got this.” she told herself. Despite her best efforts, her heart was beating faster and faster by the second.

That beating only continued to intensify as she left the changing room and made her way out towards the field. The din of the crowd was transforming from a dull sound to something more harsh and defined with each step she took along the long concrete tunnel.

“Are you ready for the first match?!” she heard professor Chariot yell into the microphone. The way the professor was getting into, put a small smile on her face. That smile only grew as she began introducing her opponent for the match.

“Here we go, folks! In the red corner we have a newcomer! Everybody, please welcome Chloé Mercier!”

The sound that came reverberating down into the bowels of the arena was indescribable as the crowd roared full of excitement. Without any thought of her own, her smile only widened.

Damn the wire and it all, this is what she was here for and she would enjoy herself.

“And in the blue corner, we have one of this year’s favorites! Will she be able to keep up with everyone’s expectations, especially after last year’s semi-final upset? There is only one way to find out. Please welcome, Diana Cavendish!”

She felt the cheers of the crowd wash over her as she stepped into the light of the arena. The atmosphere was almost intoxicating, the way it buzzed with excitement and adrenaline. She tried to spot Akko and Hannah among the jubilating masses but to no avail. Then again, she didn’t really need to see them to know that they were watching.

Her opponent was already waiting for her on the field, a grim expression drawn across her features. Diana had seen her on campus a couple times before, but had never really spoken to her. The way the blonde student was looking at her set something within her on edge.

The two of them met in the middle of the arena, gazes leveled against each other. Still smiling, Diana extended her hand towards her opponent. “Let’s have a good match.”

But Chloe simply remained staring at her until she withdrew her hand. What was her problem? She didn’t have any time to think this over before professor Nelson stepped up on the platform with the pair.

“Alright ladies,” her voice had this peculiar drill sergeant quality to it that only a PE teacher could properly pull off “I wanna see a clean fight out here. No excessive force, no striking a downed opponent and most importantly, when I say ‘stop’ you stop whatever it is you’re doing right that instant. Understood?”

Both fighters nodded, their eyes locked in a fierce stare-off.

“Alright then, Take your stances!”

Diana and Chloé both took several steps back while Nelson vacated the ring. The world seemed to be silent for a split second before the match started, the ticking of her wire and the beating of her heart the only sounds audible to her.

“START!”

Diana took a step towards her opponent, determined to land the first blow. But as soon as her foot touched the ground she froze. Her leg didn’t seem to want to obey her orders as it stayed planted where it was. Distressed, she tried to backpedal but found that she couldn't will any of her limbs to move.

“Now that’s a sight to behold. What’s the matter Cavendish? Did you suffer a sudden bout of stage fright?” A voice suddenly assaulted her ears, so loud that it seemed to be directly inside her head.

Diana knew in an instant who that voice belonged to. “Get out of my head.” she hissed staring straight at Chloé who was favoring her with a cocky smile as she stepped closer to her immobilized opponent.

“What, are you afraid I might find something that I’m not supposed to, Danny?”

Diana redoubled her efforts to move, fury beginning to build in the back of her mind. But none of her efforts bore fruit. The only thing she achieved was sagging down to her knees.

Chloé who was now standing over her laughed inside her head, her visage twisted into a mocking parody of itself. “You know Cavendish, I have hated you from the moment I first laid my eyes on you.”

She swung her leg out behind her and gave Diana a hefty kick into her abdomen. She gagged and staggered backwards on what little strength her legs still had in them. Chloé went on “You and your little clique of friends think you’re so damn special, completely inconsiderate of anyone outside your little circle.”

“What are you-” Diana started but got cut short when Chloé hit her square in the face with a right hook.

“The great and mighty Diana Cavendish with her flock of groupies and adoring friends. Or should I call them your harem?” Diana took another fist to the face, staggering her closer and closer to the edge of the field. “Did you ever have to work for anything in your life? Did that Cavendish name come included with friends and yes-men? Do you even have any idea what it means to struggle?”

Diana was so astounded for a second that she didn’t even notice the blood running down her nose. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Chloé grabbed her by the chin and forced her head upwards to look her in the eyes again. “I’m gonna show you what struggling looks like!”

The blonde wound up for another punch with her free hand and Diana knew she probably wouldn’t remain conscious through this. At this point she had already given up trying to fight against Chloé’s block in her mind. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact

The sounds from the arena that had been drowned out by her opponent’s monologue inside her head came flooding back over her. The astounded calling of Chariot’s voice over the loudspeakers, the cheers, the shocked gasps, all of it. But one voice in particular seemed to rise above the rest.

“Kick her ass, Danny!”

“Akko!” Diana whispered, her eyes snapping open to see Chloé’s fist only centimeters from her face. With no time to think her body simply reacted on its own. The arena suddenly was blinded by a flash of lightning, followed by an incredibly loud thunder crack.

Chloé staggered back with a surprised yelp, as the crowd fell silent, mirroring the blonde’s surprise. Diana felt the pressure on her mind fall off to zero in an instant. A smile returned to her face as she rose to her feet, blocking out the pain from her stomach and face.

Her opponent stared at her in shock, cradling her lightning scarred arm. “W-what did you j-just do?”

Now it was Diana’s turn to stride towards her adversary with a cocky smile on her lips. “Oh, not much. I put the positive and negative terminals for a discharge onto my face.”

Chloé staggered back, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “N-no, stay away!”

Diana, now bearing a smile not too dissimilar from Chloé’s just moments before began charging towards her staggered foe with her arms swung out behind her.

“NO!” Chloé screamed as Diana brought her hands together on either side of her head.

“STOP!”

She froze for the second time that match as Nelson's voice boomed out over the arena. Chloé had her fixed in a wide-eyed stare, feeling the electricity emanating from Diana’s palms stand the hairs on her head. She heard the hum of electricity ready to arc over; she smelt the ozone tang of ionizing air around her.

“You know what’s funny?” Diana asked, keeping her hands in position next to Chloé’s head. “You got inside my head and yet you still know absolutely nothing about me.”

She finally withdrew her arms and let the built up charge dissipate from her palms. She used her jacket sleeve to wipe off her bloody nose.

Nelson, who had stepped back into the Arena, made a wide gesture with her arms in Diana’s general direction. “The winner of the first match by TKO is Diana Cavendish!”

Diana let her eyes wander across the wildly cheering crowd as she took in the applause. Chloé took that opportunity to slink off and get some medical attention for her arm without so much as a word to Diana.

Her eyes finally came to rest on two people in the crowd who seemed to be almost jumping out of their seats at the outcome of the first fight. Even from this distance it was hard to mistake Hanna and Akko for anyone else. Waving in the general direction of her two biggest fans she whispered to herself “Thanks you two. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

#Zipper AU #LWA #little witch academia #LWA Fanfiction #Original Writing #Diana Cavendish #Hannah England #Akko Kagari #LWA AU

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vierafication · 4 years

Text

Last night around 4 am, I reblogged a certain post about "villainous rp" and added my own two cents to what had been discussed within it- mostly just venting about behavior I'd seen in the past. I didn't think much of it until I saw the next day it had been reblogged, and reblogged again, and again, by some folks who seemed pretty unhappy about what I'd said. I was told I needed to get a life, that I clearly can't separate IC and OOC, that maybe I shouldn't be writing at all. That hurt. I was irritated, then, feeling like I'd had words shoved in my mouth, like I was being purposefully misinterpreted. I typed up a clarification post explaining my previous points and pressed send, but it was seemingly ignored.

I talked with @damankjol about it later. He's the best, if you didn't know. And he rp's villains! I don't think he's a sociopath! He's very empathic and honest and understanding and cool, and he helped me realize that people weren't just angry at me, they were genuinely hurt by what I'd written. I went back and reread what I posted, as well as the responses, with a more critical eye. And... yeah. What I typed up wasn't clean, organized, or coordinated. I was venting and the tone that came off was irritated and rude. While not my intention, what I wrote sounded pretty fucking disrespectful and downright mean. And, frankly, my intentions don't matter, anyway, since I wasn't able to convey them properly. I just put some angry bullshit up on tumblr way too late at night, and I didn't expect anybody to even look at it, let alone reblog it- but I should have. Tumblr is a public platform and I should have approached my post the same way I'd approach any other one during the normal hours of the day. Thinking critically is always key, but audience is too- a vent post is a vent post, but I should have thought before I vented about a topic other people were sensitive to, and properly indicate specifics instead of vague generalizations. So, yes, I really wanted to apologize to anyone who that post hurt. I’m genuinely sorry. I should not have generalized like that. It wasn't even my intention in the first place. I was disrespectful and now that I think about it, incredibly hypocritical to boot. So yeah. I really am sorry. I respect @damankjol and @miqojak a lot as writers, and it would never be my intention to tear them down. Or anybody else, for that matter- rp only works when you rp with others, after all.

Once again, I'm sorry, and I hope you won't hate me for eternity or anything. Storytime and critical analysis under the cut.

One of my first, and worst, experiences in the ffxiv rp community was a good couple years ago. I was describing my character to a “friend,” and that character happened to be Lionnet Blodoint, my Ishgardian chirurgeon. Lionnet was not a good person by a long shot, to begin with, and from his time serving during the Dragonsong War, he’d developed quite a bit of PTSD relating to any and all things draconic. He hated dragons. He didn’t even like Au Ra. “Wow,” said the so-called friend at the time. “Your character is a nazi.”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. I tried to explain that he was NOT a nazi, he was just a traditionalist Ishgardian who hated dragons because they had been, at one point in time, absolutely hell-bent on destroying his home and everything he knew. I thought it was a pretty reasonable character trait to hate, or at least fear, dragons after serving in the Dragonsong War. The core of how I’d planned to develop him would be overcoming or at least coming to terms with his trauma, and no longer seeing it in every dragon or Au Ra he met. “No,” they said. “Your character is terribly written. They’re awful and nobody would ever want to rp with them. They’re boring because they’re so full of negative traits. They’re racist and thus, a nazi. And you are just as bad, because you’re defending them! You’re a nazi too!”

So yeah, they are NOT my friend anymore. But that whole convo really stuck with me, and I was afraid to bring out Lio afterwards- it took me another year before I actually began to use him in rp. And he turned out wonderful! His story became one of my favorite rp character stories of all time, and he had great relationship development and a happy ending. He’s still around, canonically, but I have a different main toon now.

So it shocks me that what that person told me about Lio is more or less the same as what I wrote in that post. I’m honestly dumbfounded at how I could just casually type that up and post it, when it draws so many parallels to the way I was bullied back then. So yeah. Huge hypocrisy right there. I swore to never act like that. And to an extent, I suppose I have. But that post I made was pretty fucking close- just directed at a vaguely generalized audience instead of a singular person and character. Maybe that’s actually worse. And I am sorry. I guess because it wasn’t directed at anyone but the void (even the op’s url doesn’t exist anymore), I just didn’t think about it. Which sounds like a lame-ass excuse, but... it’s true. I just wasn’t thinking. I was just venting. It’s really fucking with me that I could’ve hurt somebody so much completely unintentionally, to be honest.

So, what did I say- or, to be more clear, what was I attempting to say? What was my intention, and what wasn’t? I’m going to go over that now, more for my benefit than anyone else’s. Please note that I am not trying to make excuses or shove any blame elsewhere. I am just trying to clarify what I meant and address the issues that made my post so negative, for my own sake.

To begin, I’m gonna link this post by @lilac-memorials. It goes into detail about the trouble with “villain” discourse, and addresses a number of issues from a much more unbiased standpoint, far more eloquently than I could. Also, it seems to reference (the worse) parts of my posts at some points, or maybe I’m just paranoid. Regardless, it’s a much better post than the trainwreck that was the original one, and I agree with every bit of it. It also addresses the difference between a “villain” and an “antagonist,” which is something I attempted to go into but failed miserably.

Anyhoo. My post began with this paragraph:

Seriously. I do not trust anyone who refers to themselves as a “villain” rper. A character can take an antagonistic role in another character’s story arc, that’s fine, that works. It goes back to the “everyone is the hero of their own story” sorta thing. But playing a villain, only as a villain… what’s the point in that? It’s just someone roleplaying as an evil asshole that expects to be treated as stronger than other characters, expects to be feared. It reads like some twisted power fantasy. It doesn’t sound fun and it sure isn’t fun for the people rping with you. Like dude, calm down.

To begin with, yes, I am indeed a little distrustful of people who label their characters first and foremost as villains, before anything else. I am more suspicious of engaging in rp with them than I am with other types of characters, because I have seen some pretty crappy villains out and about and I just don’t wanna deal with that. Next, I go on to try to draw the line between a villain and an antagonist, and how I am much less suspicious of “antagonistic” characters than straight-up “villain” characters. “But playing a villain, only as a villain... what’s the point in that?” I ask. Very rudely. Insinuating that their is no point whatsoever in playing a villain. Which I didn’t intend to. But honestly, I don’t know how else that would’ve translated- I don’t know what I was thinking. I go on to describe this “villain” as somebody who is an evil asshole with a power fantasy, and how it ruins fun for anybody. Which can be read very easily as saying “all villains are like this.” No, they are not! I was describing the bad type of villain rper. The rper who “plays a villain, only as a villain,” and not as a character. Do you get what I mean now? The controlling, toxic, power-hungry rper that plays a villain as an outlet to be further controlling, toxic, and power-hungry, moreso than they ever could in reality. We all know that type of person exists. We’ve met them, somewhere. Sometimes they aren’t playing the villain at all, anyway. They’re playing the hero, or somebody else entirely. But here, I am just venting about that type of person. They are what my post is about. The key line should’ve been “playing a villain, only as a villain,” but it was shoved into a passive-aggressive question addressing self-worth instead of a proper sentence describing the difference between a well-written villain and a badly-written villain. And thus the post begins as if it had been rudely addressed to all villain rpers everywhere, labeling them as the evil asshole with a power fantasy, instead.

Next is: Anyway hot take but maybe the reason people kept trying to “redeem” and “change” OP’s character is because their character is boring af!

Yeahhhh, that one’s just mean. And, given the first paragraph, easily able to seen as an attack saying that if you are a villain rper, your character is boring af. They’re not! The op’s post is a little much, to be honest, and I guess I thought I was feeling spicy at 4 am. Now I think I must’ve just been being mean. Aurelia explains what’s wrong with the initial post here, though, instead of trying and failing to poke fun at it in that special pseudo-mean tumblr way like I did.

Lastly, Like, honestly! Play a character as a foil to another, play to fucked up ideas about morality, play an antagonist arc to a protagonist character, play a character who makes bad decisions. But don’t play a “villain.” Don’t play a character whose core personality traits are simply being cruel/evil. Don’t play a character whose sole focus is to kill npcs, be scary, and lord over other players’ characters. Don’t play a character who never develops or changes, and doesn’t facilitate change in other characters. Just don’t be an asshole edgelord. Don’t be flat and one dimensional. Don’t use rp to live out your fucked up power fantasy. Get therapy instead.

Honestly, I think this is the most clear part of my entire post, and also the worst, at the end there. I just am listing off behaviors that this figurative “bad villain rper” exhibits, and what offsets them. Play a villain that’s complex, had depth, nuance! I’m saying don’t play the “villain,” and then listing off what this specific hypothetical villain is. The opposite of deep and nuanced. The “bad villain rper” type the whole post is a vent about.

Then comes the dreaded “ Don’t use rp to live out your fucked up power fantasy. Get therapy instead. “ The villainous power fantasy. No, I do not think everyone who rp’s villains is like this. Yes, I believe there are people like this, who are INCREDIBLY few and far between, and if they solely use rp as an outlet to harass others both ICly and OOCly, that is bad! And maybe they should get help! And even, then, that was only half-serious! But therapy is a serious subject and I should have known better, and done better. Did all of that come off as intended? Hell no! Instead, it was the final nail in the coffin.

So! That’s what I was trying to say. Badly-written villains are a pain. If I had written up a post like I am now, with this long-ass thing, actually trying to be eloquent and clear. Not 4 am word vomit. This 4 am word vomit instead has gotten me to be read and interpreted as:

-being completely unable to separate character and player to the point where i think every villain’s player is a Real Life Bad Person and/or needs mental help

-saying all villains are boring because they’re not heroes, and thus are incapable of being complex and nuanced

-saying people who play dark/antagonistic characters are, in general, living out their fucked up power fantasy through them

-thinking that villainous characters are incredibly boring and just plain terrible

No! None of that is what I think! Absolutely none! I’m not going to go in and refute each of those claims, because, like I said, I’m not trying to make excuses here. But I WILL end this thing with what I do think of villainous characters and their players:

They’re fucking great, okay? A good story is made a gazillion times better by having a good villain in it, be the story a book, a movie, or an rp scenario. Well-written villain rpers are a TREASURE, and need to be appreciated! It is often harder to find rp with antagonistic toons, to begin with, and their players may find themselves getting shit on more often than others, which should absolutely not be the case. Characters that are complex and deep and nuanced are great no matter what their alignment is.

There ARE some pretty shitty villain rpers out there, too. And, in my own personal experience, they tend to be much more obnoxious than shitty hero rpers. A badly written hero will ruin a villain’s rp. A badly written villain may well try to ruin everybody around them’s rp.

Badly written villains suck. They’re the worst. And they make things worse for those that dedicate a lot of time and effort to crafting complex and cleverly written, compelling villains! Badly written villains are something I can and will complain about, just as well-written villains are something that I can and will praise. But I’ll try not to complain or vent on this platform anymore, to start.

And I do NOT blend IC and OOC. That’s the rper’s taboo! I will critique others who do it, though, which ironically is what I was sort of trying to do- complain about those specific villain players who do that. But anyway. If you’ve read this far, good for you! This has been way too long.

And. Please. If I do say or do something that hurts you in the future, regardless of what type of post it is, talk to me! Tell me what’s up! Thank you!

#THIS IS A LONG ASS POST U HAVE BEEN WARNED #u dont need to read all of the rest if u dont want to #in fact u dont need to read it at all if u don't know what post im referring to anyway

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lifewithchronicpain-original · 4 years

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Long post ahead, but I need to address this so I can move on.

Over ten years ago, I was really into atheism and debating theology on an atheist forum, and became popular as their first female member and eventually rose to moderator then administrator, setting up a lot of rules that they still have up posted in my username. I always find that funny.

I felt like I had met a great group of people with leftist politics and all that. I felt special because I was basically their token female until the forum gained more popularity. And then the owner added a kudos system to rate someone’s popularity and I was given many kudos for being able to argue against religion, mostly Christianity, so well and I even met up with the owner at Dragon*con one year.

Then a thread got into the topic of sexual objectification and this spiraled into an unpleasant discussion about rape culture. The same men I thought who appreciated what I had to say just didn’t listen anymore and I was viewed as being ridiculous. One was so offended he started putting typical MRA jokes in his signature. Also the guy I met decided he was now libertarian and whole heartedly believed regulation caused the 08’ crash. :/ I remember another guy on Facebook from my local atheist group agreeing with those men when I brought it up; and then said “oh come on, I’m an atheist, you know I’m not sexist!”

I was now facing the fact that this group of people I had enjoyed spending my time with online for about two years might praise me now, but when I would tread into territory that could make men face how they treat women, I was shut down and told a woman in a mini skirt is Just like a rich man with a visible wad of $100s in his back pocket. I was quickly understanding for the first time why there aren’t more women and POC in these “new atheist” groups. They thought their lack of religion immunized them because they blamed religion for racism and sexism. Conveniently ignoring they also believe religion was created by men and thus promoting their already established views of women and other races. Funny that.

At the same time (we had a few women on board but they were avoiding that conversation) a woman joined and spoke up. They ripped into her. I had the comfy cushion of my status, she had none. She was given all the negative kudos and when I talked to her privately I found out she was also a survivor.

I was facing so many arguments I knew were wrong but couldn’t fully articulate. That’s when I discovered what rape culture, as well as the Just world theory. That’s when I changed from becoming a feminist in label to a feminist in deeds and thoughts. I learned the responses to their arguments and then I learned I also don’t want to waste another minute on these men. I posted my goodbye explaining their responses have caused a lack of trust I can never get past because they refuse to even see how their so-called reason left the room when they started dealing with sexism.

The only man who defended me was the lone Christian who for some reason liked hanging out there. There was also a trans women there, she was very happy to agree with the men’s victim blaming and I never understood that. But it also taught me you can’t expect to know someone’s full politics just because you happen to agree or disagree on the issue of god, or really on anything.

I learned that belonging to a group of people on the surface doesn’t mean we’re all lock-step in ageeememt over every issue. I learned I can’t trust anyone who treats relationships and sex as something they deserve and not something you enter with mutual respect for boundaries. I’m not denying it hurts to be rejected and people can be rejected on prejudicial biases, but it’s still a situation that requires mutual consent and you can’t force that on people by calling them bigots. Shaming a woman into having sex with you because otherwise you’ll call her out, is essentially forced consent which is rape. I can’t say it plainer than that.

My consistent insistence that a woman’s boundaries are to be respected, that our sex lives are not political statements to be commented on, and that lesbians owe no one anything has ruffled a lot of feathers.’A lot of people don’t like that. I have seen this from MRA’s to variois online factions of bisexual and trans people (And to be very clear, not all, I don’t like painting a group with one brush) acting like lesbians not sleeping with them is an act of cruelty, a prejudice that must be corrected. In other words, “how dare you not let me get off this is a violation of my civil rights! Lesbians must be so privileged for dating other lesbians!” It’s really fucked up and everywhere on this site. And no, trying to dress it up in woke language like “you should really examine why you don’t like penises” isn’t better. Rather it betrays an obsession with getting penises into lesbians. Not all trans women have one, but that’s too pesky a detail when you’re obsessed with getting dick into a lesbian. And trust me as a lesbian, this is an obsession many people have.

I am seeing the same things that played out before playing out time and again in online spaces, where there’s little cost to being an asshole. People decided an issue is pivotal to their identity or whatever, and do everything they can to “other” people who don’t agree. They use their online social capital to try to shame people. They knowingly post call outs to attack decent people they just don’t agree with. If they can’t chase someone off the platform they’ll make it hell for that person if as much as they can. And they will resort to nasty sexist slurs because to these people nothing is worse than woman with a mind of her own. I’m no longer 25, I don’t seek the approval I used to, I can deal with online anxieties by not engaging. I know to block people and turn off anon. It hurts to be targeted for sure, but ten years later people trying to slander me online is more like water to a duck. But I’m not everyone and ten years ago this kind of online drama could be a suicide inducing event. But they don’t care.

I’m gonna let you in on a secret, the majority of political disagreements are not worth burning down the house and destroying every relationship over. Not only will you have no true friends, you will never challenge your beliefs, your beliefs will stagnate and you will never grow, never learn.

People might read this and assume that because I don’t think sex with a lesbian is a civil right that I must hate trans women. I don’t, that’s not who I am. I know what it’s like to question my gender, I suffer from mild disphoria. I can’t imagine what severe dysphoria is like and I don’t presume to assume what is right for everyone suffering from this. It is terrible, and no one deserves to be treated like shit for it. But that also doesn’t give some people (I emphasize, this is not every trans person’s doing) the right to attack women for talking about sexism, their vagina, pregnancy, or being a lesbian. I couldn’t give a rats ass if a lesbian and trans women get together, I have no right to judge or police that, but it’s okay to police lesbians? That’s fucked up, and let’s not pretend the same standard is applied to gay men, because it 100% is not.

Everyone, no matter the gender, is susceptible to sexism. Calling that out is not me saying I hate trans women, or I want to fight against trans advocacy or anything like that. I just want to talk about sexism and how it affects me as a female lesbian woman. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ID your way out of sexism, just like I, as a white person, cannot ID myself out of the racial bias I was taught from birth. These things are no different to me and has no bearing on me respecting pronouns and promoting issues of trans disability on this blog.

This one issue has painted me as a TERF, when my radical feminism (which I’ve never 100% agree with, one example is bathrooms, just let people pee! When people start monitoring bathrooms I get questioned because I’m GNC) has never been about misgendering and denying the painful realities of dysphoria. I believe and trust we can better understand transmisogyny when we better understand traditional misogyny. If one gender wasn’t so overwhelmingly oppressed I can’t imagine people would have such a knee jerk hateful reaction to trans people. I might think male socialization is a thing, but unlike other people, I don’t attack trans women for our disagreement on this one point. I’ll never make a call out post because I couldn’t make a trans women say what I wanted. I will never ever call anyone a slur either, while I’ve been called a bitch and cunt.

This blog is about disability. All I care about is promoting disability justice, information, and social support. I will always be open to discussing disability as it effects any minority group: POC, female, poor, trans, gay, etc... I’m more than happy to reblog posts regarding trans disability especially with regards to HRT or surgery can effect that. This blog will never be about attacking people and trying to tear them down. I might disagree with people but I won’t try smear someone’s reputation because of it. In recent years I have striven to disagree with people without resorting to insults and assumptions. I’m not perfect but I try.

I have talked before how there are zealous aspects to all groups. You won’t have me denying that radfems can be just as nasty. I condemn any radfem who has treated anyone the way I’m being treated right now. I personally don’t believe that because one trans women did something wrong that it’s okay to misgender all trans women. I am not like that. I’m not so bitter and hateful that I can’t separate one group of assholes from a minority group.

I’ve always been about being the better person, not for the people you hate but for yourself. Holding on to all this hate and negativity, attacking women for daring to state their mind, encouraging people to attack that person, that must be aweful. I can’t, and I won’t be like that. My own mental health couldn’t take it when I did participate in some of these behaviors on my early tumblr experience. Then I realized it was tearing me apart, and that the person on the other end is a human too. I don’t have to like them, but I can respect they have feelings and a world view that wasn’t built just to attack me.

Whether or not you agree with me on a lesbian’s right to bodily autonomy, does that really warrant a response meant to tear a disabled woman down? Are the only people entitled to their own opinions the ones that agree with you?

This matter truly is about sexism whether you believe it or not. I do not actively discuss trans issues on any of my blog. I was targeted for guilt by association (because I can’t follow people I don’t 100% agree with I guess) on main and when asked I said I got nothing against trans women I do have problems with rhetoric that treats sex with a lesbian as a civil right. I was then called out. That is exactly what happened and why I had to shut down questioning and take a break.

This post is to let you all know, I’m back, I’m okay, and this blog will continue with its mission to support disabled people. If you think a disabled women like me who only ever wants to help others, deserves this, then please unfollow. I don’t care how many people follow, I care that the people who do, want to follow me. If you’re a trans woman uncertain if you can bring an issue to me, of course you can. I’m not here to judge anyone, I’m here to give whatever disability advice and support that I can.

So yeah if you can’t understand that disagreements don’t warrant tearing down a person, especially someone who is disabled and has mentioned suicide attempts, then I can’t help you and the unfollow button is right there. If you do or don’t agree with me but think it was fucked up to get called out for, welcome. This blog will return to disability issues and this is the last I’ll be addressing this issue. I’m just going to delete and block people who think calling a disabled woman a cunt is top notch activism. You will not ruin what I’ve built here. You will not cower me. This bitch has been through too much to let anonymous trolls take me down.

Much love to all those who have supported me, it has meant a lot. 💕

#rape culture #call out culture #sexism #feminism #long post

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randomguywithwords · 5 years

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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 1 (Geten x Dabi Slowburn)

Huffing for breath, Geten stepped off her platform of ice, reshaping it and returning it to her pocket. She used what remaining energy she had left in her to cool the ice the lowest it could get. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate for the next few hours, absorbing the scene before her.

The habit of unconsciously maintaining a negative 10 degrees Celsius on her ice was and always had been part of her training. She always kept a shard or two of ice in her pockets, keeping them chilled. But just once, just this once, she would ignore her training.

Especially when her mentor was laying on debris, bloodied and legless, whilst the gang leader of those upstart brats stood over him, his clothes ripped, grinning.

She was prepared to attack. She had a shard of ice aimed at that boy’s head, when her leader told her — told them, to stand down.

“What?” She said, breathing heavily. Rage, shock, fear, it bleached her mind. This was no good. She had to remain calm in these situations.

Perhaps the fight with that man earlier, the fire-user, had drained her more than she’d like to admit.

She watched Re-destro beckon Trumpet over, who responded immediately, jumping off his truck and sprinting over. They conversed for a while, with the boy, whose smile had faded, replaced with an expression of fatigue, standing beside them.

“Our leader has ordered us to cease all fighting with the League Of Villains!” Trumpet decreed. “Tend to the wounded, collect the fallen, repair our home, and...”

He faltered, as though unsure of how to phrase the following words. “Our leader has requested to bring our...guests—” Trumpet nearly choked on the word, “sushi.”

While the remnants of the army scattered to heed the order, Geten rushed forward to Re-destro, manipulating the ice from her pocket to create a makeshift cast of ice, fitting it around the stumps.

“Great leader...” she whispered, feeling tears drip down her cheek.

“Apocryphia, I am sorry. I have failed you, and the Liberation Army.” He said, head drooping.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Re-Destro gave a laugh that was void of any humour. “He’s destroyed nearly all of them.”

“Hey.” The chilling voice of the boy brought her attention to him. Geten felt satisfaction seeing the boy in just as bad of a shape as her leader. “I need some help too. Where’s the hospital?”

“We’ll take you there. Trumpet.” The executive turned to face them. “The van.”

He understood immediately. He whistled for the driver.

_____

Even for an ice-user, Geten felt the coldness in the van. Re-Destro and her were seated in the back, while Trumpet took over the driver’s seat, and the boy rode shotgun. Everyone was quiet.

There was shivering, Geten could tell. From the slight tremble in Trumpet’s right arm from being in such close proximity to the boy who had levelled nearly half the city, to her own hands. She kept them moving, kept them dancing, moving the few ice cubes in her pocket, ready to —

“Hey, girl. Stop that.” The boy muttered, not even facing her.

She froze. “What?”

“If I was going to do something, I’d have destroyed you all the few minutes ago.”

She eyed the man beside her for a command. Re-Destro only gave her a weak smile, as though that would reassure her. A pulse of venom deepened her snarl.

“Okay.” She said.

She could end it all. She could do it. One shard — the boy wouldn’t even be able to see it.

Only two things kept her from following through: her loyalty, and the fearful thought that even her leader couldn’t defeat him. Did that make this boy stronger than he appeared to be? Or...no, no — that was a treacherous thought she had no right to entertain.

She kept her eyes on the people outside that the van was rushing past. The Meta Liberation Army, nearly 20 thousand strong, and they were unable to kill 6 brats. Now they were strewn about on the streets, dead or dying.

They’re weak, all of them, she snarled at their pitiful states. She had none for them. Only she trained at the level all of them should have. Only she was worthy of her leader’s praise.

Then why didn’t you kill that fire-user? Her conscience asked, with the same tone of condescension she had towards her fellow citizens.

She thought about it for a while, and had no answer she liked.

____

The first night was the worst. Everyone was on edge. They were tired, as was she, but how could she sleep when she knew the League Of Villains was right next door?

The handful of undestroyed buildings were crammed to the brim with the survivors of the army. The League was given the rooms in the Deika Hotel, and Geten was posted there to keep guard, though she would have done it regardless of the request by Skeptic. Him and Trumpet would be protecting Re-destro at the hospital, given that half of the League was also in an equally bad shape and were hospitalised as well.

That left the lizard man, the one with the hat, and the fire-user, so Geten wasn’t too worried.

Still, she sat in the room opposite theirs, both resting and anticipating a move by those delinquents.

There was the opening of the door. Instantly, she opened hers, brandishing her ice shards.

It was him.

The two looked at each other for an instant. His expression shifted from surprise to condescension, tilting his chin high, his mouth curling into a sneer.

“I didn’t know you were a girl.” He said.

Geten noted that her parka was down and cursed herself. “What are you doing?” She said.

“Getting a drink. You?” He closed the door behind him.

“Making sure you don’t burn the hotel down.”

“That would kill me and the others, idiot.” He began to amble down the hallway

“You’re crazy enough to do it.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. He gave a long, drawn-out sigh, like smoke hissing, and Geten’s arms moved before she even knew it, raising her ice shards.

His hands are still in his pockets, she noted.

Then he turned around and...he was smiling.

“Still thinking about my threat?” He casually said. His expression was so relaxed, as though he made death threats to anyone on the street.

“No,” she retaliated instantly.

“That’s believable,” he said. “I ain’t going to kill you yet. Personally, I hate this ceasefire and would rather burn everything down and erase this waste of a city from the map, but you guys have money, so I’m going to take that.”

Geten glared daggers at him. “You’re a monster.”

“I get that a lot. I wonder if you do too.”

Her breath caught. She said nothing for a second. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too,” he replied amiably, and taking that as a farewell, nodded and turned on his heel, strutting down the hallway.

Geten stood there, hands shuddering with rage. She slammed the door behind her, imagining his body impaled with icicles.

____

Part two is here.

#writers on tumblr #short story #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #dabi #geten #dabixgeten #slowburn #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfiction #ATDS

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poetryasf-ck · 6 years

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Good Grief #4 - Lloyd Robinson

Lloyd Robinson has almost twenty years of performance experience as an actor, poet, and musician. He is one of the few performers holding the title ‘Bad Boy Of Spoken Word’, is a multiple slam winner, the reigning Axis slam champion, and qualified for the Scottish National Slam Championship the last three years running.

Lloyd is the host and co-organiser of Edinburgh’s most exciting new-material poetry night, ‘The God Damn Debut Slam’ in the Scottish Poetry Library. He has been featured at many of Scotland’s more popular spoken word events, in particular Hidden Door Festival and StAnza literary festival. He has also independently released an album of spoken word and music, ‘Reclaimed Memories’, has a degree in Creative Writing & Drama, and a diploma in psychotherapy.

Image credit: Perry Jonsson

1. Why, if there was a reason, did you write this poem/these poems?

Catharsis. Therapy. As a tribute to my brother in law who took his own life, and to raise awareness of the very real issue of Male suicide. I have a compulsion to try and ‘fix’ bad situations, but obviously this was unfixable, so writing about it was the closest I could get.

2. Why, upon writing this poem/these poems, did you perform them?

To raise awareness. And to be totally honest, to shock the audience. I want them to be uncomfortable. I want them to remember this material out of everything else they see, and have a newfound respect for the gravity of the subject. Not only that, but suicide is still socially permissible to joke about, and I want people to think twice next time they laugh at it.

3. How does performing this piece change how you look at what happened to you?

It makes me feel more in control after something very chaotic. I like to think that he would like the piece and be proud of me.

4. How do you separate artistic performance from lived personal experience?

Focus entirely on replicating my more successful rehearsals, improving performance and heightening audience reaction. I am making art for public consumption, so I choose that as my focus. Also, quite subconsciously I (for the most part) avoid the ‘I’ pronoun, instead using ‘we’, which gives me a little more distance.

5. Do you find yourself affected negatively by performing this piece? If so, how do you look after yourself?

When I started performing it, I would be somewhat exhausted afterwards. These days though, not so much. It can depend on the audience. If they’re clearly very emotionally affected that has fed into my performance before. I’ve never lost control and become tearful, but I have felt intense.

6. Do you practice any aftercare after performing this piece (either for yourself or audiences)? (E.g., talking to audience members who are upset, taking some time out after your performance to ground yourself, ensuring you perform in places where you feel safe etc.)

I try and be around post-show; I reliably get at least one audience member come up to me afterwards who has been affected by suicide. They always thank me because being bereaved in this manner can completely alienate people and make them feel alone. For that reason I consider it important to perform this piece and make the time for them, so they realise they are not.

7. Do you do any content warnings for this piece? Why?

Depends on the night. If it’s a night with a more therapeutic lean, or it is specifically designed to be a safe space, or friendly to vulnerable people then yes. Really, in that context I probably wouldn’t perform it anyway unless it was actually requested or on theme. If not, then no. When people go out to see live entertainment, the performer should work in service of entertainment. Theatre isn’t supposed to be 100% safe, and performance poetry IS theatre. If an audience has come to a poetry show on purpose, the implicit relationship is that there will be emotional themes addressed, you don’t have to know anything about the scene to realise that. People watch theatre to be elevated and catharsis through experiencing challenging performances is a big part of that. Content warnings, unless handled very carefully, can break the rhythm and illusion of the show, as well as creating preconceptions about a piece.

EG; I have been in the audience when someone has started a poem with ‘trigger warning, suicide’ which IMMEDIATELY put me on edge. However, the poem itself was really comforting and I’m glad I ignored my instinct to leave.

THAT BEING SAID context is important, I’m not about to blanket damn trigger warnings. A LARGE part of serving the entertainment of the night is the ability to read the room, spot when something isn’t appropriate and make a call. If I’m doing the poem as part of a longer set, I will usually do a brief intro to it, not specifically making a content warning (although one is implied), but to steer the audience into a different energy. In reality you can never 100% tell which way a performance will go. Someone could be fine hearing a poem about suicide, but get upset with a poem about food because they have a history of eating disorders. There does come a point where you have to acknowledge all audience reaction as valid even if the audience straight up walks out. Sometimes trigger warnings are very necessary. Sometimes putting a trigger warning in front of a piece is actually more about giving yourself an illusion of control that you don’t, in reality, have.

8. Does the artist owe any kind of protection or safeguarding to their audience?

Yes and no. The artist owes organisers and programmers an accurate representation of their performance practice and general content so they can be booked for appropriate nights. They owe it to the audience to create art to the best of their ability. If their art is massively triggering, though, they have to be prepared to not be booked very often, or only for specific nights, or to have to put on their own shows. It is the organiser’s job to keep the audience safe, especially at curated nights, where they should know their regular audience well enough to bring in acts that will succeed. When there is an open mic element, the responsibility is a little more shared. Again, you have to read the room but you also have to acknowledge that you are a part of a community. If you are unfamiliar with the nights setup/it’s your first time, you should either scout it out first or bring a backup piece in case your chosen material isn’t going to work. There is no ‘don’t be an asshole’ rule, but there is an understanding that you should ‘try not to be an asshole’. Still, ultimately it is the organisers responsibility. They have to serve the needs of their night, and if someone steps to the mic and directly works against those needs, they have to be able to stop it.

BUT AGAIN this is not a hard and fast rule. Art practices don’t exist in a vacuum and absolutes are rarely sufficient to support the balance between safety and progress. Nuance exists.

For a scene in rude health, there needs to be a wide variety of event types. The safer spaces need to exist, because vulnerable people deserve entertainment and self-expression, but they ideally would exist in parallel with middle-of-the-road-pop-Poetry for the newcomers, and a more extreme end of the spectrum where limits can be tested, because such testings are VITAL to the evolution of the artform. ‘Saved’ by Edward Bond featured the stoning of a baby onstage and it resulted in a court case that DESTROYED the Thatcherite censorship of British theatre. ‘Shopping & Fucking’ featured drug abuse and violent rape, but broke new ground, opened doors for today’s pioneers of queer theatre and predicted the neo liberal society of today. ‘Ubu’ by Alfred Jarry was considered so nonsensical and artless that it caused TWO FUCKING RIOTS on opening night, but it spawned numerous artistic movements, without which we wouldn’t have Monty Python or Mighty Boosh. Nights need to exist where decency is malleable, simply for the evolution of the artform. Great art is not impossible when subjects are considered ‘off limits’ or ‘inappropriate’ BUT there are great things that can be achieved by breaking perceived barriers.

HOWEVER. NUANCE AGAIN.

We can’t have a blanket ‘anything goes’ approach, even at the most basic level. You have to restrict hate speech for a start, because one confident speaker given a platform can convert others to a cause. You have to no-platform predators and abusers because they will pretend to be innocent and use a platform to find more victims. This, as far as I can tell, is the most pressing responsibility an artist and an organiser has. It’s not a service to the artform, it’s a service to society, so in this case, yes, the artist, and to be honest EVERYONE is responsible for bombarding hatespeech, bigotry and abuse with poison until it dies like the fucking cancer that it is.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

9. Do you believe writing about areas such as grief, loss or trauma is a form of healthy catharsis or memorialisation?

Yes. NEXT QUESTION.

Alright, alright;

Writing stuff down can allow you to recognise and acknowledge your feelings much more clearly. Also, there are three poems that, whenever I perform them, will make me feel like the lost are still here with me.

In fact, every year on the anniversary of my brother in laws passing, I meet with my family, we chat, we support each other, and I perform two poems; the one I’m writing this survey about entitled ‘jump’, and another, more personal one that I rarely perform in public. Before I started organising this, we were stuck with ‘just getting through the day’ when it came around. It’s still the worst day of the year for us, but we have something to focus on that brings us together.

However, once again, we should be wary of absolutes. People can process grief in many different and utterly unexpected ways. This works for me and a few folk I know, but it could be catastrophic for others. Grief is one of those things where you have to acknowledge every possible emotion, no matter how illogical, as valid. If the bereaved responds by instinctively picking up a pen, whether to memorialise or seek catharsis, then writing is a valid response to grief. Therapy and/or seeking advice from medical professionals are also valid responses. It’s a simple case of ‘you do whatever makes you feel better’. If that includes enrolling in clown college and riding a unicycle everywhere; valid response.

10. What kind of warnings signs would you point out to someone new to poetry or performance who was performing about their traumas?

First of all, unless they specifically asked me, I don’t think I would. In this hypothetical I’m going to assume they are an adult presenting as neurotypical. They have a right to explore their own trauma/reclaim their narrative in whatever fashion suits them and I wouldn’t want to patronise them by giving the impression that I thought they needed help (see my question 9 chat about valid responses; we mustn’t tell people how to or how not to grieve). Humans are much hardier than they often give themselves credit for. The only context in which I would intercede would be someone clearly exhibiting signs of severe anxiety/depression, & I had even the slightest suspicion they might be a danger to themselves. However, these conditions make it very difficult for new voices to leave the house, let alone sign up for an open mic, so while I acknowledge there’s a risk, it isn’t a particularly likely scenario. I feel like that’s not the sort of answer you’re after, though.

I do think there is a bit of a danger (the extent of which I’m unsure of) that a new poet could see performances on YouTube and in slams that lead them to think they have to mine their own trauma to get material. The warning signs of this would be asking yourself ‘what can I write about’ and the answer being ‘ooh, that horrible thing that happened’.

When rehearsing the poem, it is perfectly normal to cry (or similar emotional release) even a few times. If you well up during a public performance, also fine AS LONG AS THE PERFORMER FEELS IT HELPS.

If, however, you have an uncontrollable emotional response EVERY TIME you perform it, I’d start to question whether you should.

If the idea of performing it causes anxiety above the usual pre-show nerves, and that anxiety reduces when you decide ‘oh I’ll perform something else instead’ then that’s a CLEAR indication.

It is hard to point to specific warning signs other than the above and feeling peer pressure to perform grief-motivated poetry, because everyone’s responses can be incredibly varied. All I’d really say is some advice I was given when I started writing;

“There are two types of writing; what you send out into the world and you do for yourself. The first type needs to flexible so you can improve it based on the responses you get. You have to learn that constructive criticism is valuable and not a personal attack. The second is imperfect and often messy, but it helps you learn about the craft and your own mind. Always remember the two are flexible. You can start writing something personal and realise it’s for everyone. You can send something out into the world and then entirely take it back upon realising that this was just for you.”

lloydcarltonrobinson.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.patreon.com/poetryasfuck

#lloyd robinson #suicide #poetry #poet #poem #spoken word #grief #loss #trauma

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alxspeaks · 6 years

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As some of you may have noticed, I have been pretty quiet on social media recently. In fact, I went roughly 2 months without as much as opening up a social media app. In total, it was 3 months until I officially made a post from any of my social media accounts. Now this may not seem like such a big deal, but like most of the world’s population I was addicted to social media.

In 2019, it is estimated that there will be around 2.77 billion social media users around the globe and that figure continues to increase (The Statistics Portal).Social media is everything right now: people turn to Twitter before they turn on the news, every business has a social media platform, and it is now the easiest way to contact anyone from your Mom to Cardi B. Everyone is involved in some aspect of social media and it is so easy to get caught up without even realising it. I would often find myself constantly hopping between Facebook, Instagram ,Snapchat and Twitter, scrolling, uploading and posting. It was the first thing I did when I woke up and the last thing before I went to bed. I would stay up late with nothing but the glare from my phone screen glowing on my face as I would constantly follow updates and news feeds. It had gotten to the point where I began to feel uncomfortable without my phone in my hand and whenever I felt a bit socially awkward it was the first thing I would look for. I began to depend on it and this twisted relationship started to trigger a lot of problems for me.

It all began in March 2018 just after my 24th birthday when I started to really notice a big change in my overall mood: 50% of the time I was unhappy and the other 50% I spent worrying and feeling anxious. Throughout my time at University I had been noticing increased anxiety and changes in my mood but after graduation it just seemed to be getting progressively worse. It came to a point where my overall outlook on life was consistently negative and I was miserable, unable to eat, sleep or think clearly. I had this feeling that I was just a total failure at everything and I was finding it extremely difficult to cope with life. I was really scared of the thoughts going through my head and I felt as though I had no control over my emotions. Although I had felt overwhelmed and stressed before, I knew that this was different but I had no idea what was happening to me. I sought advice from a friend who I knew was open about her mental health journey and after speaking to her I took a huge leap and decided to refer myself to my local mental health team.

This was just the worst thing for me as I hate drawing any attention to myself, yet, here I was, preparing to talk to total strangers about my life. I started doing my own research into the way that I was feeling and I began to discover that I had symptoms similar to that of Anxiety.These were symptoms that I had been suffering with with for over 5 years and I had just put it down to stress or to me simply overreacting and being silly. I was later diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD) Social Phobia and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. MAD! One day i’m just me trying to live my best life, and the next I suddenly have three Anxiety Disorders that I now have to manage and understand. The change was huge and I felt as though I had to learn who I was all over again as all of this time I had been living with a mental health condition that I knew nothing about. It’s crazy to think that if I hadn't taken my health into my own hands I would have never had any answers for the way that I had been feeling all of these years.

There were various different factors that had led up to this point in my life, University being the main one as that was when I had my first signs of anxiety: my self-confidence had really plummeted and I found myself feeling completely lost. After graduation, everything just seemed to be going wrong like my entire future was slipping away from me and I was helpless to stop it (Post-Graduate Depression see article links below). I was under way too much pressure from myself, my family (being the sole carer for two parents with long term illnesses), and from life in general with no help and no one who could truly understand. I was really unsettled and didn’t have anywhere to truly call my home. Job rejections had just become so commonplace that I didn’t even realise how much it was affecting my self confidence. Family and friends that I thought I could count on had all left and in the space of about 3 weeks my friendship circle had more than halved, at a time when I needed the most support I felt truly alone. During this time, I was still active on social media scrolling away, but the more I scrolled the worse it made me feel about my own life and each time I put down my phone after being on social media I felt upset. At times, I was even drawn to tears. Not only was it lowering my self-esteem and fueling the ideas in my head that ‘I am a failure’, it was also a huge trigger for my Anxiety. Once I realised this, I knew I had to take action, but I honestly didn’t know how. Then, one day, I went to spend some time with one of my closest friends and she said four life changing words to me. ‘You have a choice’. As obvious as this may seem I had genuinely forgotten that I actually have the option to choose whether or not to participate in social media. She explained that she had been through a similar experience and that she had to set herself some very strict rules. One of them was that she only logged in when she was making a social media post and logged out straight after; she never scrolled! That was all the advice I needed and I immediately logged out of all my social media accounts and guess what? The world didn’t end and I finally felt as though I had control over one aspect of my life. I now controlled social media; it did not control me. The moment I logged out, I didn’t feel the urge to log back in for months. However, I still found myself reaching for my phone out of habit. So, to shift my focus, I downloaded apps that are constructive uses of my time such as wordscapes, Duolingo (started learning new languages) and Headspace (mindfulness meditation).

Throughout all of this I was still struggling whilst awaiting my first counselling appointment on a 3 month waiting list, but I put on a brave face, carrying on with business as usual. Then, one day, I snapped. I had a huge panic attack and during this whole episode I accidently smashed my phone. I had completely given up on life and I felt as though no one understood what I was going through.

So, there I was, completely broken and no phone, no contacts, no apps, nothing! Ordinarily I would have been even more of a mess after breaking my phone, but I later found that this gave me the push I needed to understand that I don’t need to be contacting people all the time and people don’t always need to be updated on my every move. In fact, it’s when I am most quiet on social media that I am working my hardest, and at this particular time it was vital that I put all of my efforts into working on me and my well being.

In addition to this, (I have a confession to make, here it goes…) I haven't picked up a pencil in over a year! Unfortunately I have not been able to design as much as a vest since last year summer. When my mental health deteriorated, so did my creative flow. However, I did not see it at the time so I just put more pressure on myself to create a new collection until it made me sick and my body started to shut down. I went without sleep, food, water, social life, pretty much everything a human needs to function. I was forcing myself to produce work in ridiculous time frames, frantically trying to prove to myself and the world that I am good enough. The fact that I couldn’t think clearly just caused me more frustration but mostly I didn't want to let everyone down: all of you who believe in me and my creative talent. I already felt like a failure in my own eyes and I didn’t want anyone else to think the same. My desire was to be constantly seen on social media doing amazing things in fashion but that just wasn’t my reality.

The truth is, I had built up so much pressure around myself and my fashion career that it became a huge anxiety trigger for me. As a result, I haven't been able to return to my beautiful design studio in nearly a year. Me, Alex, who lives and breathes fashion. I wrestled with the idea for a long time but I was forced to take an extended break from fashion design and my other projects until I saw some improvement in my mental health. I once said that if I was to suddenly die I wouldn’t be upset because I was no longer alive, I would be upset because I didn’t get the chance to live a life that I enjoyed living. I had to take a break and readjust my whole life, it was seriously a matter of life and death; I had to put my fashion career on hold.

I’ve heard of so many artists, musicians and writers taking creative breaks and now I completely understand why. My creativity is such a huge part of me but it only works when i’m in good health. Anything that I create outside of that is just not a clear representation of me as an artist. I was so focused on trying to live my best life through the eyes of others that I forgot to look after myself. Right now, living my best life currently looks like attending my therapy sessions, remembering to breathe, drinking plenty of water and practicing mindfulness. I plan to take as much time as I need to focus on me and my health so that I can come back stronger and produce something that’s true to who I am as a designer when I am at my best. So next time you see me, don’t ask how my collection is going, ask me how I am doing!

We often look at people who do great things and admire them from afar. In our eyes they might seem like the best and the brightest and it’s easy to assume that all is well with them. But, my experience has shown me that this is one of the most dangerous assumptions a person could make. I was still going through all of this trauma when I was raising the money for my collection, when my shirt design was sold in Hawes and Curtis and when I became one of Birmingham’s 30under30 finalists. I realised that I had been wearing a happy mask and suffering in silence for years until it eventually fell down and I was left to deal with everything that I have been hiding from. It came to the point where I was just waiting for someone, anyone, to ask me if I was ok. Then, finally, I took my health into my own hands and bravely asked for help.

I am currently undergoing therapy sessions with the best therapist ever and we are working through small steps to help me get better. I finally have somewhere safe that I can call my home and i’ve started spending more time doing things that I enjoy like being outdoors and writing poetry. I also started doing yoga and practicing mindfulness meditation so I can learn how to switch off when my head is just doing the most (the Headspace app has literally saved my life, check it out). My relationship with social media is now so much better and I have set rules for myself #noscrolling and I logout after every session. I have seen huge improvements in my mental health, self-esteem and body confidence since doing this and I just feel generally more positive about life. I still have a very long way to go and I am nowhere near better yet but each day I learn something new and I make progress.

I logged out of social media and it was one the best decisions I have ever made for myself. On my 24th birthday I told myself that this was going to be the year of me and so far it has been. Although it has been my most difficult year to date I have been forced to focus on me and put my health first because, at the end of the day, that is what is most important.

For more information about Anxiety Disorders and mental health advice check out these links below.

For Useful Contacts

https://birminghammind.org/contact-page/emergency-contacts/

For Information

YouTube- The 5 Major Anxiety Disorders

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzaNQAh3NiY&t=7s

Mind

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/types-of-mental-health-problems/anxiety-and-panic-attacks/anxiety-disorders/#.W6GCdy2ZNsM

Beyond Blue

https://www.beyondblue.org.au/the-facts/anxiety/types-of-anxiety

Post-Graduate Depression

https://metro.co.uk/2017/07/17/why-is-no-one-talking-about-post-graduate-depression-6760769/

https://www.topuniversities.com/blog/we-need-talk-about-post-graduation-depression

References

The Statistics Portal https://www.statista.com/statistics/278414/number-of-worldwide-social-network-users/

#mental health #mental disorder #positive mental attitude #black mental health #blackwomanmagic #health #lifestyle #wellbeing #motivation #inspiration

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shianhygge-imagines · 6 years

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Shian’s Middlemarch AU Extra Verse: What Should Have Been Part 1 (Ravus Nox Fleuret/Reader)

AN: It’s been a looooong time coming, but here it is! Because the AU is so long, I’ve split it into two parts. The one posted today, and another in the coming days when I am not dying of finals.

For those of you new to my Middlemarch series, this is the Alternate Happy Ending that everyone wanted me to write in response to the angst that the original series was. But as it just so happened, Episode Ignis had the Extra Verse, which was a happy ending of sort, so I decided to base this story off that. The first part of this story will not have spoilers for Episode Ignis, but the last part will.

Well, without further ado... ENJOY!

|Masterlist Link|

------------------------------

The Day of the Invasion

You glanced tiredly at the high ceilings towering above your limp form. Your senses had dulled significantly as the blood drained from your body, forming a crimson pool beneath you. Despite all your valor, your foolish bravery, Glauca had cut you down without hesitation, allowing your body to fall with praise for your honor. And as a last homage to your young life, had laid your body to rest beside the fallen King Regis.

At first, you’d been able to hold the King’s cold hand, but as the feeling left your body, you could no longer find the simple comforts from the fallen king. It was funny. Dying. It felt like your entire body was submerged under water, vision clouded, hearing muffled, and the energy just draining out of you. “Like an old battery.” You chuckled cynically, before choking on your blood. I don’t want to go out like this. You thought to yourself. Someone save me. I have so many things I want to do. I want to grow old and have a family. “I just want someone to be there for me.” You gasped weakly, feeling tears fall down your pale and bloody face.

You could feel the explosions and destruction happening from the outside world, several stories above and rock layers away. Everything seemed so far away, and despite having the King’s body next to your own fading one, you’ve never felt so alone. “Why is it so cold?” a gasp of breath into your blood filled lungs accompanied by the gurgle of something thick dripping out of your mouth, “I’m not ready to go yet.” You sobbed, staring up at the light coming from the chamber’s stained glass above.

Perhaps the Astrals heard your dying pleas, for next you knew, your body was being lifted by a muscular arm, and you started at the warmth, the heat, the comfort, radiating from the body holding you, unconsciously clutching to the white fabric, not wanting to feel so cold and alone again. You could only whimper as the arm pulled you to a firm chest and a kiss was pressed to the lids of your closed and tired eyes.

“Don’t leave me.” You begged over and over again when you’re lifted from the floor and onto a platform, weakly clutching at the figure with the mismatched eyes and clearly not thinking with a sound mind.

The man with the platinum blonde hair took your hand in his own and didn’t leave your side even as you were transported out of that haunting chamber. “I will not, Little Light.”

And then, it was like the remaining strength in your body was given permission to leave, the image of worried mismatched eyes gazing down at you in horror as your vision faded to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Night of the Invasion

“My, my, did you actually love something other than your sister, High Commander?” a teasing, light hearted voice rang through your consciousness. And although it was teasing, you had the feeling that there was a subtle hint of malicious intrigue.

“That notion is absurd.” another voice answered after a few seconds, seeming annoyed and cold. “I no longer have attachments to those aligned with the so called Chosen King.”

“And yet you commanded the treatment and care towards Y/N Amicitia, a Sworn Shield to the Kings descended from the Line of Lucis.” the lighter voice chuckled, with clear amusement at the mention of your name. You couldn’t open your eyes, with the lack of energy in your body, but you could hear as footsteps drew closer to your side and a rough hand gently brushed the hair from your face. “It’s fine if you love them, Commander, though it would paint you in a less than positive light with your superiors.”

The other man said nothing, choosing to remain silent as his companion of sorts amused himself with your soft strands of hair. “Though I don’t suppose they remember who you are to them. Such a shame. The High Commander of Niflheim still enamored with his childhood love.” There was a pause and a brief chuckle. “How poetic. Two pairs of star-crossed lovers. Yourself and Y/N… as well as Prince Noctis and Lady Lunafreya.”

“None of us are dying.” Ravus, you had deduced, denied vehemently, voicing rising the slightest with a hiss.

You could almost hear the smirk on the other man’s face. “Of course not.” and you felt the man’s gaze on your form. “But love doesn’t prevent the death of those we love.” The rough hand halted over your closed eyes, and the man bent down to whisper in your ear, “Isn’t that right, Little Light. Now sleep and heal. Your beloved Prince awaits.”

The name of the man above your form suddenly came to you as you lost yourself to unconsciousness again.

Ardyn Izunia.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Morning After the Invasion

Cor held onto the small amount of hope as he left the remains of Insomnia after leaving the corpse of his once beloved king. The Immortal Shogun had buried so many comrades, had seen just as many civilians perish as well, and despite this, there was slight happiness and hope the perhaps, you’d been able to escape the city with Lunafreya. Cor’s light blue eyes sparked with a fierce will to find his Prince, but that spark also existed because he wanted, no, needed for you to be alive. That you had left the city alive, and that he hadn’t left you to die alone. As one of the people who helped raise you, Cor couldn’t stand the thought of you, with your bright eyes, left to rot somewhere in the city, the light leaving your eyes.

Perhaps… if the Crownsguard were not ordered to patrol the exterior of the Citadel during the attack, things could have been different.

No. Cor shook his head in denial, attempting to banish all the negative and morbid thoughts from his mind as he made his way out of the city on the highway, which had long since crumbled from the relentless battle between the city’s Old Wall and Niflheim’s Diamond Weapon. Far enough away, from the ruined city, Cor allowed himself to turn and mourn the lives lost, blue eyes taking in the fire and rubble. Only after several moments of silence, did Cor allow himself to turn, taking out his cell phone and dialing a number, holding the small device to his ear.

The phone only has time to ring for a few moments before the recipient picks up.

“H-Hello? Cor?”

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

Two Days After the Fall of Insomnia, Ten Days Before the Death of the Oracle

Ardyn smirked in amusement as he sauntered his way through the metal door leading to your room. It had been two days since the High Commander had taken you in for medical treatment, and every single instance that Ardyn found himself in your room, Ravus was by your side. If the Tenebrae Prince was not holding your hand while reading through paperwork, then he would be working at the desk only a few feet away. Somewhere deep down, Ardyn could feel the bitterness creep at his heart. It must have been nice, to be so close to the person you loved. But the cursed man shook his head. There was little use in mourning the past.

The Forsaken King plastered a smug grin across his visage before he gave a delighted hum, allowing the busy High Commander to finally take notice of his presence. “My, my, I never see you outside of this room, Commander. It couldn’t hurt to let them leave your sight now and again. I’m sure the poor thing would be disturbed to wake and see your frightening face.”

It greatly pleased Ardyn to tease the ever serious High Commander, but he often grew tired of the lack of response from Ravus, forcing a pout to the playfully malicious man’s face, as he made his way closer to where you lay, still unconscious. “You keep watch over them so diligently.” the Forsaken King tilted his head to stare inquisitively at your sleeping face, auburn hair shifting with the movement, “Though you hate Lucians with such passion.” When the platinum blonde haired man only continued to ignore him, Ardyn extended a hand to play with your hair, “Ah, but I thought that you would be more concerned with saving your dear sister… perhaps this one here… is a distraction.” And in a split second, his hand shifted and tightened.

~~~~~~~~

You’d never been woken up so harshly before, eyes snapping open, already wide and bulging with panic at the pain blooming in your chest and the tightness around your throat. No sound reached your ears as you struggled, lifting your hands to grab at your attacker’s. There was an indistinct yelling, but the man above you only grinned eyes shining maliciously as he only tightened his grip. From the side, a man in white roughly shoved at your attacker before drawing a rapier to attack the man. To your alarm, the man above you easily blocked your protector, sending a shock of black and purple-ish energy to knock the man in white back. When his attention was back to you, you took notice that the man above you now had a demonic look about him, his sclera completely black.

Your eyes widened, horrified, alarmed, as you stretched out your dominant hand, calling to your greatsword. In a rain of blue sparks, your blade materialized, its handle a familiar weight as you swung sideways with all your might. Just when the sharp edge was about to slice into your attacker, he smirked and disappeared in a burst of purple wisps. Coughing roughly from the sudden ability to breathe, you sat up and slumped forward, unarmed hand coming up to gingerly touch the bruises forming on your neck. Your eyes wanted to close from the exhaustion and pain, but stubbornly remained open, vigilant and observing your surroundings. The room decor screamed Niflheim, what with its metal decor and boring design, and it caused no sense of relaxation for you. For now, you paid no attention to the man in white, who was cautiously making his way to you, though you could distinctly make out the humming of an engine. Perhaps you were on an airship?

The space beside you sank from a sudden weight, and your vigilant gaze shift ever so slightly to take in the white garb and purple armor, rapier sheathed, and Magitek arm, before sweeping up to look into eyes of blue and purple. Worry, joy, uncertainty. That was what you saw in the man’s eyes, though the rest of his face betrayed nothing. You knew him, though through the pain you struggled to remember his name. “You…” The adrenaline had long since left your body, and suddenly your torso felt like it was on fire. You took a glance down to see bandages peeking out from under the greyish blue hospital gown.

“You should not strain your body, Y/N. For it still has much healing to do.” the man with platinum hair chided gently, gently taking a hold your hand with his metal arm as his other arm, one made of flesh, you observed, slowly wrapped around your back and guided you to lay on the bed once more. “Now rest, Little Light. Let your body heal the wounds that Glauca made. Let them vanish from your flesh to be never seen again.”

Little Light.

Glauca.

As if a torrent suddenly rained down upon you, you began to recall.

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

You could feel the life leaving you as you stubbornly stumbled forward, still intent on attacking the behemoth of a general in front of you. Nyx and Lunafreya had long since left the chamber, and to your shame, King Regis had long since passed on. But if the damage to your body could buy Lunafreya enough time to escape, then you would bear the pain. It was your calling, after all, to protect those who needed to be protected.

The greatsword in your hands collided with Glauca’s blade with a deafening clang though you weren’t strong enough to deflect, instead being thrown back a few feet as Glauca brought his sword down upon your torso yet again. By all means, you should have died by then, but Cor had given you a supply of Phoenix Downs to keep you going in emergencies. But before you could bring your last Phoenix Down out, Glauca charged you, and before you could move away, the blade had impaled itself through your flesh once more.

“I commend you for your bravery, Y/N Amicitia. It is a shame that you had to die for such a foolish cause.” Those were the only words Glauca offered before he pulled the blade from your body, allowing you to fall backwards with a resounding thud. “As a tribute to your will, I will let you die by the King’s side.” Were you lifted from the ground, you didn’t know. All the feeling in your body had since left, leaving only the cold. Before you knew it, all there was in that room, was silence.

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

Almost with agony, you clung at your breast, a phantom pain shooting through your torso as you recalled the blade piercing your body. And then, you remembered the warmth from the man who saved you, your hands finding their way to the man in white’s arm. When the man turned his head ever so slightly to look into your face, you knew this to be your savior. “Ravus.” his name left your lips in a plea, “I’m not… dead?”

There was a slight upturn of his lips as the Imperial High Commander answered in a near whisper. “No, Little Light. You are among the living, and you will not die so long as I live.”

A low whimper left your lips as you closed your eyes, allowing the tears gathered to fall. Stubbornly, you pulled Ravus’s arm closer, burying your face into the warmth. And despite the fact that you knew him to despise Lucians, you begged. “Don’t leave me, Ravus. Please. Don’t let the cold take me again.”

How far you must have fallen in Ravus’s eyes. A proud Crownsguard member and a Shield to the King, yet here you were, pathetically clutching onto his arm.

And yet… to your surprise, the weight on the bed shifted, and suddenly you were surround in warmth. You hesitated in looking up, but when you felt another arm wrap around your body, pulling you close to a firm chest, you couldn’t dismiss the urge. For once, when you look into Ravus’s face, you see not a passive mask, but expressive eyes and a stubborn frown. It was a look you were familiar with in your childhood, vaguely remembering someone named Rae looking at you the same way. “My Little Light… the darkness and the cold will never take you again.”

There it was again, that nickname. Little Light.

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

12 Years Ago

You watched sadly as Noctis left the room, yelling back that he would see you later in the day. Was it wrong that you felt a burst of tightness in your chest whenever you saw him leave? Was it wrong that you wished that you were as important as Lunafreya was to Noctis? Was it wrong that while your best friend smiled cheerfully after all the tragedy that befell him, you could only look on in the background? Forgotten? When they went off to play, neither ever invited you.

At the age of eight, all you wanted was companionship. And yet the one you counted on to provide that companionship had abandoned you. At age eight, you couldn’t hate, but the jealousy left you hollow, empty, as you roamed the halls of Fenestala Manor, its ancient stone architecture like something out of those old stories that Gladio would read Iris. It was so quiet, as you walked through the ancestral home of the Nox Fleurets, sniffling and trying to hold in tears as you blindly went, not noticing the figure following behind you.

Perhaps it was the whispering and staring of everyone that you came across, but you didn’t stop walking until you found a secluded corner on the direct opposite side of the manor, where the bridges were slightly older, and where it seemed, less people frequented. In this seemingly secluded part of the manor, you allowed yourself to crumble to your knees, tears sliding down your cheeks as you let the loneliness consume you.

The trip to Tenebrae was your father’s idea. Thinking that Noctis might need a friend with him in Tenebrae. But to think that this would be the opposite of the fun that your father intended had never occured to you. As a result, you didn’t know how lonely it would be to be in a foreign land as your friend left you alone.

This wasn’t fun.

It wasn’t fun being left out.

It wasn’t fun being pushed aside.

It wasn’t fun to be replaced.

It wasn’t fun to be forgotten.

And perhaps, that was what hurt the most. Perhaps that is what gave you cause to find the darkest place in Tenebrae imaginable. Perhaps that is the reason that those tendrils of black and purple found you so easily. That the Scourge tugged at the darkness within you. Beckoning you, a spiral of darkness that ached to corrupt. And how you longed to give in.

But just when you were about to stretch your hand out and welcome that seductive force, you suddenly found yourself surrounded in warmth. “Little Light, do not go quietly unto the darkness. Do not let its seductive poison take you. Do not let that pure light within you extinguish.”

You didn’t recognize the voice from the form behind you, but could tell that the light coming from them scared off the mysterious black and purple tendrils. The dark presence had whispered promises of companionship. That it would be your friend. That it would take the pain in your chest and make it disappear. That you wouldn’t be alone any longer. Desperately naive in your loneliness, you struggled against your savior, trying to reach out to the darkness nearly gone. “No!” You protested, your tiny arms reaching towards the darkness. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me alone!” It came out as a desperate sob, watching the darkness fizzle and fade in the presence of the light. Only when you could no longer see the darkness, the promise of companionship, did you collapse and give into the person hold you. “It hurts.” You shivered as the light retreated as well, “It’s so cold.”

“Y/N.” the person behind you called out, extending their light to you. “Little Light, the darkness is not your friend.”

The light was warm, but the darkness still promised companionship. “But it promised not to leave me…”

The arms retreated from around your form in favor of taking you by the shoulders and spinning you around. Taken by surprise, your teary eyes rose to meet with blue and purple, and you realized that the light was coming from the Prince of Tenebrae himself, Ravus Nox Fleuret. With a determined expression on his otherwise kind face, Ravus extended more of his light towards you, “Then I won’t leave you, Y/N.” It wasn’t a half-assed statement, but a promise, as he knelt before you. “I won’t let the darkness take you.”

Still untrusting, you shifted your eyes and bit your bottom lip in a pout, “Promise me?”

The Prince smiled sincerely, lips parting in a grin as he pulled your tiny form into a hug. “I promise.” When he felt you accept his light, Ravus sighed in relief, stroking your hair as he’d seen his mother do for his sister when she was sad. “Nothing will take that spark away from you, Little Light. I promise that so long as I live, you won’t fade.”

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

Tearfully, you clutched onto Ravus’s form, “Rae…” Years ago, Ravus had saved you from being taken by the Scourge. Now, twelve years later, he’d saved you again. And still, you couldn’t believe that you had forgotten about Ravus. “You kept your promise.”

The fallen Prince of Tenebrae stroked your hair affectionately as you fell back asleep, “So long as life exists within this breast of mine, you won’t fade, Y/N.”

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

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-fi!

#shian imagines #shianhygge #shian's middlemarch #ravus x reader #ravus nox fleuret #ravus #noctis lucis caelum #ignis scentia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #ffxv #episode ignis #alternate universe #extra verse

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thezoequinn · 7 years

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The Value Of Just Shutting The Fuck Up Sometimes

A few weeks ago, I was doing an interview with a reporter and she was asking about almost every weird GamerGate conspiracy theory that had come up about me in the last few years. I've honestly forgotten more of them than I remembered at this point. She didn't seem to understand why I'd never addressed most of the accusations which had ranged from whose dick I touched to literally murdering people. She said in researching me for the piece, she'd only ever found the weirdo accusations but not my version of events, and seemed to not understand why I wouldn't just say what actually did or didn't happen.

I can't blame her for being curious. I think whenever we hear something wild, especially about someone or something we care about, we want to know answers. Lord knows if you're the one being lied about, it's a natural impulse to want to set the record straight or give your side of anything.

Sadly, that's extremely short sighted. No one thinks about what might happen next.

It's been over three years of being accused of all kinds of shit from all kinds of people, and if I've learned nothing else, I've learned the importance of restraint and the responsibility that comes with having a large platform and gigantic visibility. It makes me feel like a kaiju where any small movement could potentially tip over a building. I've written a bunch in my book about how engaging with bad-faith accusations and signal boosting them just to refute them can easily backfire and ingrain false information in people's minds even further. That can sometimes just come down to a math problem - if someone with an audience of 50 makes up a rumor about you, if you respond to it with your audience of 500, more people are going to see the false stuff than would otherwise. To complicate matters, there are enough people out there who think that even refuting something at all makes you look guilty. There are people who want you to be guilty because they already don't like you. Frequently, bad-faith accusations will not be addressed by proof to the contrary, because you can't reason someone out of something they didn't reason themselves into in the first place. People are complicated.

But when you put your side of anything out there, the thing that comes next isn't usually "oh, okay". The thing that comes next is usually escalation. It's people digging into shit trying to prove you wrong. It's invasive, and it can have so much collateral damage.

For example, when people ask me why I didn't address my ex's claims about who I did and didn't sleep with, even when I had the floor, I get why they'd ask. My own desire to keep some remaining shred of my privacy aside, those claims aren't just about me. I've been accused of sleeping with people I haven't ever really talked to, people who are pretty private in general who just want to be left the hell alone. I don't have the right to drag them back into a messy situation that involves probably getting stalked and yelled at by nazis just to try and save my own skin, especially since it's more likely than not that people are just going to believe whatever they want to anyway. Or maybe that's me being cynical after watching years of people claiming that I fucked someone for a review I never got from a website I already had written for in the past. I honestly have, I think understandably, lost a bit of perspective on that particular point.

This is especially complicated by situations like mine, because I am under constant surveillance by people who hate my guts who are looking for people to hurt, and people looking to feed on "drama", and people looking for new targets. If you think that's being dramatic, there are places I know of that have threads specifically about stalking me *to this day* with literally thousands of posts in them. Bad faith actors aside, my audience is in the hundreds of thousands. The responsibility that comes with that is something I take extremely seriously. It's something that I encourage everyone else with big online platforms to take extremely seriously too. I think a lot of us internet famous folks ended up here without really trying to, and it's easy to feel like "well I didn't ask for this and it's not my fault if something happens" and while, yeah, sure, you can't take responsibility for the actions of other people (especially people who are super out there and just looking to hurt someone regardless of whatever you're doing), I see no reason to not try to minimize harm. A power dynamic doesn't cease to exist just because you didn't explicitly seek that power out, or maybe didn't even want it in the first place. People who have less resources than you will still have less resources than you regardless of how you feel about it.

When there's a significant power differential at play, there's harm algebra to be done when it comes to addressing disinformation. It's not as simple as "just setting the record straight" in public, because once you make something public you give up a certain degree of control that you cannot get back. It might mean putting someone who is already hurting or has so much less than me in more harm than I'd ever face by just taking the reputation hit.

Sometimes there's situations where I just have to take it on the chin, because nothing happens in a vacuum. Sometimes I just have to let it go, no matter how much it fucking sucks to have people out there tearing into you for reasons that really have very little to do with you, because the collateral damage is too much on too many people to justify any potential repairs to my reputation.

Honestly, it's really not worth it to me to escalate a situation just to make a frequently pointless attempt at getting people to be more critical of the wild shit they read about me online, especially when it means probably hurting someone else. It's been years and I still don't know how to navigate a lot of this. I've tried so much already - talking about bigger stuff, proving what actually happened, attempting to prove negatives, responding only with screenshots of fighting game win screens. It's not like people making shit up about me, regardless of motivation, is a novel occurrence in my life. It's not like I've made the right call all the time - I've arrived at this method of dealing with shit after making a lot of *wrong* calls. I've been pretty open about being a bad fit for being a public figure of any sort - I was (and still feel) vastly unprepared to handle being a weird symbol to so many people who want all kinds of things from me regardless of if they need a villain or a hero or a symbol of whatever the fuck.

Frankly I can't live my life around playing whack a mole with whatever new horseshit slithers out of the corners of the internet on any given day that ends in Y, because when I was trying to do that it really almost cost me my life.

A fun side effect of being a survivor of domestic violence is how easy it is to slip back into doubting your own life and experiences to a hyperbolic degree. A fun side effect of depression is feeling like everything you say and do is bad and wrong and that you're worthless on a regular basis. A fun side effect of my PTSD is flashing back to being in that fucking elevator shaft when GamerGate started and I couldn't sleep or eat and was convinced everyone would turn on me and I'd be alone forever any time some conspiracy comes up that hits me at just the right angle that it gets under my armor.

But I know that's squarely out of my control. All I can do is manage what I do with that. I don't know what else to do other than seek external advice from people smarter than me when something comes up that really gets under my skin or makes me doubt my own version of events even when I damn well know something didn't happen to help counter the trashbrain filter that the disinformation comes in through because having those issues doesn't let me off of any hooks. I don't want to use any of that, or even my status as someone who is frequently targeted with shit that I'm too exhausted to type out so just picture me gesturing vaguely at everything to absolve me of anything. I don't ever want to think I'm above reproach, so I check in with people around me who will be honest and call me on my shit. When I do fuck up, and I do because I'm a human in an extremely weird fucking situation, I do whatever seems like the right thing to do, not the face-saving thing to do. Sometimes, this is shit that's done in private. I don't know why people assume everything has to be handled extremely online. But overwhelmingly more often than not, shit is maliciously made up, and more often than not the only right move that will de-escalate shit and hurt the least amount of people is just letting it go and praying that people will see through it, or they'll actually talk to me if they see some wild accusation. And if people wanted to look for reasons to think the worst and get the knives out immediately, honestly, I feel extremely done with anyone looking to build people up only to gleefully tear them back down. I'm tired and I've watched too many communities devour themselves to want any part of that, and am only interested in working toward a future that's centered on restorative justice instead of exclusively punitive systems in different settings. I'm tired of enthusiastic disposibility masquerading as community. All that behavior says to me is that I was never safe around you in the first place.

I know I'm taking a gigantic risk in even posting this to begin with because I know it's an uncomfortable subject, but it feels like a bigger, longer-term risk to watch my comrades, siblings, and friends all scared and lost on either side of the power dynamic - both as people who have grievances with people with gigantic platforms, and as people who have gained both visibility and the jealousy and hatefollows that come with it. I'm tired of talking about this stuff in dms with other scared people who don't know what to do. And by no means do I think this is the only way to deal with any of this - this is just how I feel, and how I approach being someone who went from being some random weirdo to being a cultural football. Your mileage may vary. Hopefully I figure out a way that's less dehumanizing, and if I do, I'll be sure and let you know. But again, I'm a random weirdo game developer. I'm figuring this shit out as I go, and I lean into my skids and wear my heart on my sleeve and if y'all want to throw me in the trash over being aggressively vulnerable and human at you, that's ok. You don't have to like me or support me, and I like trash anyway.

Shit's pretty fucked up in the world right now (duh), but the very least we can do is really interrogate how and what we use our varying degrees of reach and visibility for. We have to see ourselves as part of something larger and look at our impact instead of just our intentions. For me, sometimes that means that being right doesn't mean a damn thing and is unrelated to doing the right thing. Sometimes, for me, that means knowing when to just shut the fuck up and let people think what they're gonna think. And if nothing else, I've seen that on a long enough timeline, people tend to figure out who makes shit up without my involvement.

So I'm only gonna say all of this once, here, so that I never have to say it again and I can point at it any time I'm asked to weigh in on something someone said about me on the internet, because god damn I'm tired and I'd rather spend my time and effort trying to help people and make dope shit than fuss about what people think they know about me.

#cw: abuse #cw: ptsd #cw: trauma

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gokul2181 · 4 years

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#BigStory: How REAL are our reality shows ?

New Post has been published on https://jordarnews.in/bigstory-how-real-are-our-reality-shows/

#BigStory: How REAL are our reality shows ?

Indian audience loves to watch reality shows – lockdown or no lockdown. But, has the time come to call out the shows on Indian television that are hiding under the garb of reality? Are they really real, and if yes, then to what extent?

ETimes TV deep dives into the compelling questions around reality shows and puts them across to an array of people from the entertainment industry.

Senior TV producer and veteran Bollywood actor Manoj Kumar’s cousin, Manish Goswami who has produced more than 35 shows over the last 27 years- ‘Daraar’, ‘Adhikar’, ‘Aashirwad’, ‘Kartavya, ‘Milan’ and ‘Kittie Party’ to name a few, says, “In India, reality shows are scripted. They are scripted to an extent that they become viewer-friendly. The target audience has been identified and they are given what they’re waiting for. The makers want to get all the expressions in a 45-60 minute capsule and the viewer-excitement quotient is kept in mind. But I don’t think that this happens abroad as they are very strict there.”

Foreign reality TV shows — be it American Idol, Big Brother or any other reality show – the authenticity, transparency and accountability is far higher than in the Indian formats. No twist and turn is made for melodrama. The format is followed to the T. No creative person’s contribution is over-ruled or modified once it is locked. This in turn implies that each contributor’s work is respected and think of it, shouldn’t it be?

Goswami also points out that the beneficiaries of such shows are few and far between. “Public memory is short, here. After their victories or promising performances, the participants are forgotten. Koi ek-aadh ubhar ke aata hai.”

But this was not the case earlier. Sunidhi Chauhan, Arijit Singh, Shreya Ghoshal, Bigg Boss 14’s Rahul Vaidya and a few others are all products of reality shows.

Saroj Khan was asked to favour some contestants, claims daughter Sukaina

Legendary Saroj Khan’s daughter Sukaina tells ETimes TV that her mother, after judging some reality shows had stopped accepting them. Sukaina says, “They wanted my mother to favour some contestants because those contestants were paying them. ‘ Isko first rakho, usko second rakho.’ Mom, who was always a blunt person and took a stand against the wrongs around her, said she would rather stand by her ethics than do such biased projects.”

The channel airing ‘Bigg Boss’ not too long ago had offered the show to non-controversial J D Majethia, Chairman of the TV and web wing, Indian Film and TV Producer- on more than one occasion.

“I don’t know about you but I am definitely amused. Emphasising that ‘Bigg Boss’ or ‘Splitsvilla‘ or ‘Roadies‘ cannot give any acting offers because acting is not judged by how you fight or throw plates or mouth abuses, Majethia says, “Arre Juhi Parmar (Season 5) and Urvashi Dholakia (Season 6) getting shows after ‘Bigg Boss’ because they won it? Certainly not. They are getting work because they have a good track record as far as their body of work goes.”

According to Majethia, “The 2-year contracts with the channel can make lives. Look at Rahul Vaidya (who is now also in ‘Bigg Boss 14’). Uski toh life ban gayi after he appeared in ‘Indian Idol, Season 1’. Till today, he earns well from his shows and some of the shows he does are on big platforms with Sonu Nigam!”

Aashka Goradia, however, feels that reality shows work worldwide and this is simply because “people enjoy seeing other people’s misfortune, which is a psychological problem.”

You get paid to tarnish your image: Dolly Bindra former Bigg Boss contestant

Bollywood choreographer Ganesh Acharya, who was being chased to become a judge, has turned down many reality shows. Hinting that the music contests look all similar, Acharya also laments that the dancing on Indian television is not something that he offers in the Bollywood films where his services are required. ” Woh shows meri dance se alag hain,” he clarifies.

Dolly Bindra says that a lot of filmmakers chased her even to Delhi where she was shooting soon after she came out of ‘Bigg Boss 4’. “But those were short term gains and I got really typecast after that. Everybody wanted me to play a negative role. Dolly does not regret doing ‘Bigg Boss’ but comes up with a very hard-hitting line, “We are paid on such shows to tarnish our image.”

Producer of shows like ‘Ace of Space‘ and ‘Code Red’ Vikas Gupta, who was also seen in ‘Bigg Boss 13′, disagrees, “If the contestants are careful, I don’t see how a show can tarnish their image? The belief that reality shows tarnish your image is false,’ he tells ETimes TV.

Meanwhile, Koena Mitra, who was quite annoyed when she was eliminated from ‘Bigg Boss 13’ in two weeks, is still calling a spade a spade. “Reality shows on Indian television will always work. People like chaos and debates and the bursting of the bubble. A lot of people who’re inside the show end up doing things that they shouldn’t be doing. The viewers in turn become curious if they can see anything lower than that. They may not even like it and in fact, dislike it. So it’s a win-win situation for TV producers.”

Aashka Goradia has also mellowed down from the day when she lashed out at the ‘Bigg Boss Season 6’ show when she felt that it had painted her as a lesbian as she applied balm on co-contestant Sana Khan’s back and now says that the people who hate the show would do well to stay away from it rather than complain.

“I think ‘Bigg Boss woh shaadi wala ladoo hai jo khao toh bhi pachtao aur nahi khao toh bhi pachtao’. But can I tell you something? Today, our reality shows are more real than the people who are entering it.”

These shows, however, somehow make the youngsters’ adrenaline flow. 28-year-old Chetna Pande, who participated in ‘Ace of Space’ says, “No, our reality shows are not scripted. In such shows, our real personality comes out sooner or later. The people connect with you better than before, your followers on social media increase. You can get work in the form of appearances- like look at Divya Agarwal and Varun Sood for one. Shruti Sinha and Baseer Ali also are doing well. Post ‘Ace of Space’, I got ‘Class of 2020’ and then I also did a web show.”

Pratik Sehajpal, ex-boyfriend of Bigg Boss 14 contestant Pavitra Punia, who was the runner-up to Divya Agarwal in ‘Ace of Space’, endorses Chetna’s views with an explanation, “An increase in your social media popularity is invariable but I am clear that reality shows are not scripted. It’s only for some contestants who come with a pre-conceived idea that they need to exhibit a certain image that one tends to get an impression that the show is manipulated; they get dramatic and percolate a feeling that the shows have a rigid script.”

Are wedding theme shows a hoax ?

‘Mujhse Shaadi Karogi’s’ 29-year-old Ankita Srivastava is also not against reality shows but quite positive about them as ‘MSK’ helped her to gain a lot of followers on social media. Ankita says, “Despite having a verified account, I had only 24K followers on Instagram. When I exited the show, I had 100K. And now, I have 174K followers. Also, our reality shows help us to look at ourselves clearly, we have many fixed ideas in our heads but participating in reality shows makes you realise that some or maybe even many of those ideas are misplaced.”

22-year-old Shivani Jha, who was a part of ‘MSK’ before it ended abruptly owing to COVID-19, says, “I had heard that reality shows are all scripted but after ‘MSK’, I certainly don’t endorse that opinion. I had it clear in my mind that I was going into the show to not get married but to just be seen on TV.”

Lack of originality

Dalljiet Kaur, former contestant of Bigg Boss 13, who has participated in Nach Baliye earlier says earlier it was not the case – sobs and tears were real but not any longer. “Nach Baliye; ‘aaj audiences know ki ek couple ka break-up hoga hi hoga‘. When I did ‘Nach Baliye’ in 2008 (Season 4), I remember how petrified we were when Farah Khan, Arjun Rampal and Karisma Kapoor actually walked out, when I couldn’t be ready for two dances in one go as I hadn’t got time due to my constant shoots of two shows wherein I was playing the leads. Back then, we had actually cried and apologised to Farah, Arjun and Karisma. But does that happen in real nowadays, isn’t all such done to shoot up the TRPs? In today’s times, the public almost knows what is going to happen next.”

She further says: “Coming to ‘Bigg Boss 14’, Nikki Tamboli saying inside the house that she can’t wash the utensils because of her acrylic nails was such a pre-planned statement and so was her statement that she’s missing her BF and hence wants to wear his T-shirt. So, what’s original? Nothing. Trust me, Paras Chhabra had advised me to break a ‘matki’ as that would help me to draw attention – but I did not. If I had stayed longer, who knows I too might have learnt a few tricks of the trade.”

Anup Jalota has something similar to say. He comes in to give an example of how hungry the participants are to get the camera on themselves. “When I was in ‘Bigg Boss’ (Season 12 ), Sreesanth would climb up so many times and threaten to jump out.”

Referring to Dalljiet’s point of view that contestants smartly prepare their portrayals to get more on-screen footage, we ask Jalota how he felt when Jasleen Matharu used his name in ‘Bigg Boss 12’ and said that they were in a relationship when they were about to step into the house, but Jalota brushed it off, saying, “Mere andar gusse ka element bilkul absent hai.”

Not to forget the maara-maari in ‘Roadies’ and ‘Splitsvilla’, Neha Dhupia had said when a person is judging a reality TV show, statements are made, misrepresented and taken out of context. In April this year, Neha made quite some noise about a ‘bola kuch aur, dikhaya kuch aur’ incident. “Unfortunately, a small chunk of what I said in ‘Roadies’ was kind of highlighted, whereas what I was trying to imply was the fact that under no circumstances is domestic violence okay and therefore I think only half of it was picked up,” she had lamented. Dhupia had a harrowing time as she was mercilessly trolled. But did she speak to the channel in question, MTV? We only saw her carrying on with the next episode. Hope the channel apologised to her, preferably in writing!

All said and done, it is clear that extreme reactions and high-drama on Indian reality shows grab eyeballs, irrespective of the damage they may cause!

Stakes are high and moral values and reputations not cared about. It’s not the survival of the fittest but the survival of someone who has the ability to impress his superiors at work even if that tantamounts to crushing someone’s reputation. And of course, sabse bada rupaiya! Wonder if there will ever come a day when reality shows become truly REAL !

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scyre · 6 years

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ayy its ya girl c! i’ve done up a little draft with the slight changes that were made now that we’re living in the moden au!! please read more for ... more.

DESMOND SAYRE

monty might not love social media and technological advances but they changed his life. his family still sucked, always grasping for power and rejecting change, but at least he didn’t feel as alone... not when he could text his friends and get immediate answers back from them. not having the time to dwell and sink in self pity really helped him.

ya boy also didn’t have to live his life thinking something was wrong with him bc he wasn’t sexually attracted to people like he was supposed to. he had access to google, he learned what asexuality and the spectrum was, and he knew more about himself and didn’t have to just ... not know. i think this made him sleep around less, get to know people a bit more, and while he’s still not an open kind of guy he didn’t really date much. it did however mean he stayed with laurel way longer than he should have... put up with way more crazy than he would have in the past.

he has instagram but never posts. seriously, he has one post from a year ago. he does like things though and is always commenting on posts. sometimes nice, sometimes not. he doesn’t have facebook, twitter, youtube, or snapchat. he thinks the snapchat filters are dumb and ruin perfectly good pictures. he also hates selfies and thinks they’re dumb. why does he even have insta? it’s probably the only way to stay up to date on hogwarts gossip.

i do think because everything online can be so negative, and escalate so quickly, monty never would have came out and admitted that he was bisexual/demisexual except to the people he’s told in canon. it’s still something he plans on taking to his grave and obliviating out of anyone who knew. the gay shame is real. get a grip boy.

i think he’s definitely got the aesthetic of like... the guy with gauges in his ears, maybe he has his eyebrow pierced, and he definitely still has the nipple piercing. i think he probably has more tattoos, exclusively wears leather jackets, combat boots, and ripped jeans, and wears a lot of plain colored shirts or black shirts. he still loves black. he will always love black. he wears a lot of it.

he hasn’t appropriated a lot of muggle culture into his day to day. i feel like he only got a phone in the last year and is awful at remembering to check it. it’s probably an older model too because he didn’t care what they gave him and it’s slate grey with no case because he lives on the edge. yolo. he doesn’t have any muggle cars or anything like that but he definitely has a netflix account and television because why not. his favorite show would probably be something like the good place.

ya boy still flunked out of hogwarts because that’s just how his life goes. he’s repeating his final year and you bet ya ass people tweeted about THAT for awhile. we love vague tweeting.

PHOENIX VASQUEZ

phoenix’s childhood is still relatively the same; he was adopted by the vasquez family. however, adopting wasn’t as easy as it had been back in the day because lycanthropy wasn’t as frowned upon in this decade as it would have been before. while people didn’t love it, it wasn’t something that meant no other family was interested, or other people weren’t willing to bend red tape. which means nix didn’t move around as much as a kid because his parents were able to keep working at their jobs in the states!! they only moved to the UK when he was fifteen as his grandmother was sick. so basically he moved to and started going to hogwarts in year 5 instead of year 1.

personality wise, nix is very similar. he’s still very awkward, very quiet, and is a genuinely nice person to everyone he meets. he’s more often about his lycanthropy as his parents never begged him to keep it a secret and it’s not uncommon for him to be making werewolf jokes at his own expense. he thinks it’s funny.

technology!! nix loves snapchat. he’s not huge on technology bc he’s kind of a hipster -- he still uses ballpoint pens and notebooks, doesn’t own a computer and only has a dinky phone that texts and calls. no data. he can only use snapchat when he’s near a wifi hotspot so you’ll sometimes see him getting frustrated with his phone when it starts buffering and flopping. he DOES borrow a friend’s computer to upload podcasts though because he’s a podcaster!!! he has a podcast called ‘howlcast’ and he does reviews of mainstream media depictions of werewolves and compares them to the reality. he also interviews lycanthropy specialists, advocates, and famous lycanthropes to talk about the werewolf experience. he kind of loves it?? he puts out an episode a week and does a Q&A on twitter straight after the episode goes up for any fans of the podcast.

nix doesn’t have a luxury broom or any of those fancy toys that the rich kids usually sport. he likes his regular ‘ol magical broomstick and doesn’t think a suped up car is something that he needs in his life. he good.

modern 2018 phoenix also died his hair a bluey teal color! he thought it was fun and tbh he is living his best life.

LAUREL DIAN

laurel’s family aspire to be the kardashians. they have a b level reality show, think something on tlc so they have their little cult following that laurel l o v e s. she loves the attention and loves the perks that come with it.

her aesthetic is probably like.. forever 21 / hipster / hippe chick. she wears a lot of crop tops, high waisted skirts, floral prints, lace, etc. everything .. and i mean everything ... is accentuated with red lipstick. that’s her aesthetic x 100. she has an iphone with a bedazzled phone case and probably drives a really compact car. her broom would be luxury too and she’s definitely on tinder select looking for cute boys (or girls) to bring home with her.

as for social media.. she has her hand in a lot of different platforms. she prefers facebook over most of the other ones. she also loves pinterest and is always pinning home decor ideas, cooking ideas, etc. she’s a feminist and sjw when it comes to twitter. it’s not uncommon to see her beefing with someone on twitter because they’re trolling or being rude/racist/sexist/etc. she loves tearing people a new asshole when they decide to spread their hate online. fuck off trolly boys.

she’s been in two high profile relationships in her life. the first was with monty sayre and that was a fucking nightmare. a lot of their relationship was caught on screen and its cringey whenever people tweet her pictures of monty and his new fiancee, or share photos of the two of them from when they were together. she might have dumped him but that doesn’t mean that she wants to be reminded of it all the time

she still works with dragons and they are frequently featured on her instagram, snapchat, and on the show. some of them even have their own little cult followings. its weird but kind of beautiful,

PIPPA CARSTAIRS

pippa being born in the 2000′s is the best thing that ever happened to her. truly. britney? christina? pink? oh my god she’s living. she loves pop music, loves concerts, and has a passion for professional cheerleading bc it's a legitimate sport now y’all! it’s her dream to be a professional cheerleader. maybe in the magical world if quidditch has them now?? we just dont know.

her aesthetic is blair waldorf chic. maybe a little more revealing. she definitely still wears heels, ignores dress codes, and always has her hair straightened perfectly. she is very very good with makeup -- think contouring and all that jazz. she looks like a million bucks literlly every day. it’s incredible.

pippa has a luxury car. i’m thinking it’s probably an suv?? she definitely would want something bigger and not your typical girly girl car. i’m thinking a black cadillac escalade. she doesn’t have a broom bc she still hates flying and heights. fuck that shit. as for technology, she’s got it all -- snapchat, twitter, instagram, youtube, etc. she also definitely has a youtube channel dedicated to beauty tutorials and has thousands of dedicated viewers. she’s done everything from contouring, costume make-up, etc. her channel is especially popular around halloween as she does a special called ‘the twelve days of pippaween’ where she does different costume makeup every day for 12 days. her most popular to date is ursula from the little mermaid! she also definitely has the latest iphone, macbook, etc, and it’s probably all rose gold. she’s a rose gold girl.

currently in the middle of an instagram war with her ex boyfriend. they’re both shady as fuck with their vague posting on finstas and it’s mESSY. we love a good mess!!!!! (this good be a good wanted connection if someone wanted to be her messy ex for the AU!!)

ALARIC ROWLE

i feel like wizards having access to technology changed things significantly for rowle. he was able to track down his birth father’s parents much easier and probably moved back to the UK when he was much younger. he definitely learned more about the war and was drawn into anyone whose narrative reflected what he wanted to hear -- that his parents were martyrs and that the dark lord had been in the right the whole time.

he definitely kept dueling. when his hand acted up, i think he would have been so desperate to fix it that he would have given into muggle medicines and treatments. he probably wears a splint on his wrist and his wandwork isn’t AS quick as it could be but he’s still one of the top duelists in the country. seriously, ya boy was good. him getting to continue being awesome might make him less of a douche. maybe. he definitely competes bc glory and loves every minute of it. a rowle who is less grumpy and super cocky? we stan.

he’s definitely a reddit troll. i feel like there’s a death eaters subreddit or something and he basically lives there and talks to other death eater sympathizers, former, or whatever, and slowly await the return of the ‘great days’. think alt right but .. y’know magical.. ugly.

he still teaches dada bc initially he needed money to pay off some wicked crazy medical bills for all the specialists and acupuncture and weird shit he did to fix his hands. even with the money he earns when he’s duelling, he’s in debt up to his ears.

i think he still has the scars that marr his face though bc as much as he will use splints or salves on his hands he is not gonna fucking undergo plastic surgery in the muggle world. he’d rather choke.

ANSEM WARBECK

ansem warbeck deserves social media. he is living his best life. he is definitely the guy who is constantly using ‘find my iphone’ bc he lost it, has a cracked screen because he forgot to buy the shatterproof screen protector, and changes his netflix password weekly bc he can never remember what it was. he’s also the snapchat king. i’d say he has 100+ streaks with as many people as he can convince to keep it up and he sends angry snaps when you ruin his streaks. they’re like his babies. one time he was running a fever and still managed to make streaks. there’s no excuse.

he still works as a curse breaker but i feel like he’s really like... stepped up gringott’s social media game. i feel like he took it upon himself to get them an instagram and is always uploading picture of whatever ‘cool’ treasure they can find. griphook keeps telling him they’re going to get robbed if he doesn’t stop bragging but ansem never listens.

the warbeck family is probably one of the few that have not acclimated to the technological changes at all. they won’t have anything to do with electricity, social media, or anything of the sort and look down on people that do. so ansem with his luxury brooms and his waffle iron are basically sacreligious to his family and his mom always cries whenever he talks about these things. it’s a whole Thing and just reinforces that arson is the best and ansem is the Worst.

#wizard:modernau2018 #modern au 2018.

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legend-icon-and-star · 6 years

Text

BenDeLaCreme Has Something to Stay (originally linked via reddit)

Dear Drag Race “fans” (not the real fans),

I’m not Jasmine Masters, but I’ve still got some stuff to say.

Tonight is an exciting night for a whole new crop of queens, and I want to celebrate them. But you may have noticed I have not yet congratulated the winner of All Stars 3. Or weighed in on the final episode at all. In fact, I’ve steered clear of social media for the last week. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I have discovered that anything I say will lead to an attack from a small but vocal minority of “fans” who have been using social media to harass and bully the queens.

If you have tweeted, commented, posted or DMed anything negative to any of the queens, this message is for you. Try and stick with it — it’s more than 140 characters.

I think a lot of you will find yourselves happier if you assume we are all humans trying our best to varying degrees of success at various times. The black and white thinking that people can be minimized to “good” or “bad” is both reductive and destructive.

Now that the season is over, let me clarify some things.

Firstly, let’s dismantle this “you knew what you were getting into” narrative. I can’t speak for the other girls, but I know I am not alone in this: Drag is my one true love. It is not just my job or my big plan to get rich and famous. I started drag when you had to love it so much that you were willing to withstand hate from the straight AND gay communities and devote your life to a demanding art form that almost guaranteed you would be permanently impoverished and disdained. Drag is who I am. It is deep in my blood and necessary to my happiness. I come from a long proud tradition of people with that same deep need for this art form, and we all now live in a moment where Drag Race is inextricably tied to any drag queen’s career, whether they engage with it or not. It provides amazing opportunities for both cast members and viewers. The culture surrounding it also takes some things away.

When I was first asked to be on All Stars 3 I said no. Then they asked some more. While I was flattered they wanted me back, I wished they would stop. I knew that no matter what I chose, there would be some unhappiness. There would be some regrets. It was the first of what I knew would be many decisions with no right answer. But thus is life - those of you who think you will ever have an objectively “right” or “wrong” viewpoint have a rocky road ahead. At the end of the day I decided that despite my issues with the format, I’d be able to change more from the inside than I could from the sidelines.

Also, the kid I once was needed to see the adult I am today.

Also, my career is everything to me.

Also, financial security is rare for an artist.

There is no one reason for anything. Nothing is entirely selfless, but that doesn’t mean none of it is.

I had no plan to do what I did, but it was not some incomprehensible decision that was “right for me” and I reject that narrative.

I did not leave the competition as any sort of favor to the other girls. I did not leave the competition because I couldn’t hack it. I did not leave the competition for “my mental health” or because a producer put me up to it. And I have never claimed any of those things. I left the competition because, in a situation where I had felt trapped choosing between “success” and what felt right, I had an epiphany. I saw an opportunity to make a statement to the producers, and in turn to you, the viewer. And also to myself. Stop accepting what “authority figures” have told you you have to do. You do not have to consent to compromising your values or personal boundaries, whatever they may be. You do not have to push people down to lift yourself up. This society has indoctrinated us with certain beliefs at a great cost to our own humanity. Some of you are angry I questioned those beliefs. If those beliefs can’t withstand questioning, then they are not structurally sound.

I’m disappointed with those who can’t see through the smoke and mirrors to the heart of drag, which is a message of love and inclusivity. Our culture has embraced bloodlust, and for some, reality TV has become our coliseum. The creators set up impossible situations for us to navigate without any of the support systems of the real world. Situations that cause some of us pain and anger and sadness. They don’t do it because they are monsters, they do it because they are under the impression that’s what you, the viewer, demands. Is that what you demand? Do you feel ok with demanding that?

I’d like to think that there are more people, like me, who love the part of this show that allows us to see amazing people do amazing things.

I’d also like to address this concept of being “fake” or “calculating.” If being “fake” means not thinking or feeling the same way in one moment than you thought or felt in a different moment, then lord help us all. If being “calculating” is thinking through your words and actions and modeling the behavior you would like to see in the world, even when it is difficult, then I hope more of you will become calculating.

No one is born kind. It takes work. That work requires thought, intention, and sometimes it means not indulging in everything you feel. Anyone who does that work will sometimes fail because failure always goes hand in hand with trying. My anger stems from the throngs of people unwilling to do the work.

Being kind when you feel inclined to be kind is not a measure of your kindness. Being kind when you are actually sad or angry or frustrated or resentful—or just DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO—that is being kind. Some of you embrace your id as if spouting every thought that goes through your mind is equivilent to being genuine. It is not dishonest to strive to be better than you are.

I love and respect Trixie. I love and respect Shangela. And all of the queens. I don’t think those who have not been through the reality TV machine will ever understand what the experience is like and how that might affect choices and actions in any given moment. I think some of you going to jump to wild assumptions about what I mean by that last sentence. You don’t know. You. Don’t. Know. Sometimes in life you will not know. Sometimes in life you will not understand. Or agree. And if you pick a fight every time that happens you’re going to tucker yourself out real quick.

Recognize that this show is a platform for all of these queens to share their work post-show. It is a stepping stone not an endgame. The crown itself has no bearing on the queens happiness, success or finances. This is evidenced by the fact that you regularly tear the winner to shreds. It is also evidenced by the reality that any queen who gets close to winning $100,000 will make at least $100,000. Anyone who thinks a queen’s bookings will suffer just because she didn’t win is deluded.

How about you all just focus on being wildly appreciative that these people have chosen to share themselves and their artistry with you, to bare themselves and be vulnerable despite the knowledge that many of you will be extremely cruel in return?

So: Congratulations to Trixie on winning the crown. Congratulations to Shangela for her incredible performance on the show. Congratulations to Kennedy and Bebe on being fierce queens who have earned fans and respect all over the world. Congratulations to the rest of the queens for being brave and fierce enough to share themselves despite the “fans” who attempt to chip away at their self worth. Congratulations to the cast of Season Ten; you are all brave and amazing. I truly hope the “fans” get their act together and see that. Finally, congratulations to the real fans - the ones who actually show love and support. You will always be a part of this family. You will always be loved and appreciated. And by giving, receiving and sharing that love, you will always know what it means to “win.”

DeLaCreme out.

((source))

((the comments about this on reddit are pretty positive and great too))

#bendelacreme #trixie mattel #shangela #all stars 3 #rpdr #i think there's a LOT of y'all that need to read this #and understand it

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