#i am going to trigger my filtering system with this one

[midethefangirl]

surrender - hopeless (i'm falling down)

tags: angst, seriously y'all are going to hate me for the three chapters of this fic, pregnancy (unplanned but not unwanted), quan chi is a douchebag here, warning for attempt at forced abortion (i'm about to trigger my own filtering system), hurt no comfort, pre-MK1, and of course it is bireena centered but bi-han makes not physical appearance in this fic.

summary:

notes: continuation of @ladybug023 's spy!sareena headcanons inspiring my writing. I decided to splice this into three chapters because the word count went beyond 3k words and I hate writing super long stories when it comes to platforms like Tumblr. the chapter title is gotten from the lyrics of 'Hopeless' by Breaking Benjamin. also, if you want to join a tagging list for updates, please, let me know and i'll add you 😁❤️

word count: 1.6k words

also cross posted on ao3

part one of surrender; part three of i'm weak so what is wrong with that (i added a new tag for this)

The deepest circle of the Netherrealm was one of the most dreaded locations in the Netherrealm and for a damn good reason. 

It was the place where previous overlords of the Netherrealm banished offending denizens to be tortured by the onis. 

This was the last place Sareena wanted to find herself in but what had she expected the moment she found Quan Chi at the Lin Kuei foregrounds? 

Regret ran through her mind as she awaited her judgment, her palm flat against her lower abdomen, the recent news bringing mixed feelings. 

She and Bi Han had always been so careful… but it is not 100% safe , came that little voice in her head. 

She had lost focus of why she was in the Lin Kuei and now, she was paying severely. Here she was awaiting Quan Chi’s arrival while in Bi Han’s mind, she was as good as dead. 

The last thing that the cryomancer would remember was how she betrayed his clan, how she betrayed him . How she lied to him. 

How could she have deluded herself into thinking she could keep up with the lie she had allowed to fester? How could she have believed that she could stall her day of reckoning? 

Her wishful thinking had done nothing but land her in this mess where her fate and that of her child was dependent on the whims of a dangerous sorcerer. 

Bi Han would never know that she was carrying his child - not that she was aware herself until the onis Quan Chi had assigned as her torturers - Drahmin and Moloch - had somehow detected it. 

The Netherrealm was basically hell, where demons, onis, tortured souls and every possible personification of evil walked about but they had a few rules they followed. 

One of them which was her saving grace, at least, in this moment - a person with child was off-limits. Harming a person with child was seen as a death sentence, enough to have the perpetrator in the deepest circle of the Netherrealm. 

It could be her saving grace but knowing Quan Chi, any assurance dwindled by a great percentage. The sorcerer was from Outworld, not a native of the infernal realm. Sareena doubted he’d respect this rule. 

Ha , Quan Chi respecting the rules of the Netherrealm? That was as laughable as the many dreams of liberating the realm from his hands. After overthrowing Lucifer with the help of the Sisterhood of Shadows, the sorcerer had made himself a tyrant, keeping denizen under his thumb. 

Anyone who dares to defy his dictatorship ended up in the position she was currently in. Either that or on the run like Ashrah, which did not seem so bad right now. 

Quan Chi had gained unilateral control over the Netherrealm and he showed great disdain towards its rules. This one would be no different. 

Hell, he’d torture her himself, unborn child be damned. The thought of that had the demon clutching her abdomen protectively, if she had to fight to her last breath to protect herself for the sake of her child, she’d gladly do that. 

The heavy sound of boots against the stone pavement had her alert, her eyes looking up to see Quan Chi flanked on his sides by Drahmin and Moloch. 

She sat up straight, her back against the wall as she finally came face-to-face with the brown-skinned sorcerer who stared at her venomously. 

“Why is she still here, unscathed?!” He turned towards the onis, his tone miffed as he spoke like she was not right in front of him. 

The onis exchanged looks, obviously displaying their fear of the sorcerer who impatiently expected their answers. 

“L-Lord Quan Chi- we- w-we thought,” Drahmin started, stumbling over his words as he struggled to get his words through. 

Sareena could tell this was the moment where the sorcerer was so close to losing his shit. He rarely expressed his anger in outbursts which was terrifying in this scenario. 

“Speak up you imbecile!”

“She is with child,” Moloch blurted and Quan Chi let out a mirthless chuckle which chilled Sareena to the bones. 

“That should not stop you.”

“We cannot-. It is forbidden,” Drahmin interjected. 

He knows that , Sareena wanted to add but at this moment, her silence was more golden than whatever comeback she had on the tip of her tongue

The room fell silent as Quan Chi crouched down to her level. The demon attempted to keep as much distance as she could but she could only go so far when her back was against the wall. 

The sorcerer pressed a hand against her abdomen, chanting some incantations under his breath. Then, he jerked his hand away, recoiling as if he was shocked by electric current. 

He was on his feet now and his eyes widened, time standing still as he looked down at her. It was like the dreaded calm before the storm and Sareena could not afford to trust this silence, her eyes looking cautiously at him. 

A myriad of emotions flitted across the sorcerer’s face before settling for rage and disdain. Quan Chi’s lips curled into a sneer as he seemed to put two and two together. 

“You whore!” He spat venom. 

He knew, there was no way he would not know. 

“It is that pathetic Earthrealmer, isn’t it? He sired this bastard, didn’t he?” He jeered. “It is not enough that you failed your mission but you had to let that Earthrealmer bed you and put his seed inside you.”

Sareena could almost feel herself let out a sob. Quan Chi’s face was too calm, way too calm for the venomous words he tossed her. It was a moment of when he’d strike at her. 

And her fear was about to come true. 

“Seize her!”

No, no, no.

“No!” She yelled, the moment Drahmin and Moloch were at her sides, their hands pulllng her up. She struggled against the iron-cladded grip of the onis who dragged her out of her cell. 

“Please! Please, don’t do this!”

“I’ll get rid of that bastard if I have to. Shang Tsung would have a field day helping me,” a smug look fell upon the sorcerer’s face. 

It felt like a century had passed when she found herself in a room she was unfamiliar with. Her face was stricken with tears, her voice hoarse from her cries. 

“Quan Chi!” A voice broke through and everyone’s attention was focused on a new presence. A pair of amethyst eyes fell upon her still in the rough grips of the onis. 

The dark-skinned demon pushed through Quan Chi before reaching for Sareena. Drahmin and Moloch had released her instantly, making her fall into Jataaka’s arms. 

“What in Lucifer’s name is going on?!” Jataaka demanded, her eyes glaring fiercely at Quan Chi who was now displeased that the demon had dared meddle in his affairs. 

“Stay out of this, Jataaka,” Quan Chi shot back. 

Sareena found herself shaking, her hand instinctively on her abdomen as she shrunk into Jataaka’s protective hold.

Jataaka stood her ground, her hold firm around Sareena. The demon had a fierce look in her eyes, the kind that had even Quan Chi and his two henchmen pause.

“You would really protect a traitor? Someone who tried to leave the Sisterhood for a pathetic Earthrealmer?” The sorcerer scoffed, his question aimed at the demon who still had her arms around Sareena.

“Still a sister nonetheless. I am not going to let you hurt her, sorcerer,” the demon hissed.

This seemed to have struck a nerve as Quan Chi stepped up to her, his face dangerously close.

“She is pregnant with an Earthrealmer’s spawn. If I have to rip that abomination out of her, then so be it,” he spat.

Jataaka remained unfazed, her gaze piercing as her arms tightened around the demon.

Then, it seemed as though the demon had thought of something.

"You are not going to harm a fellow member of the Sisterhood," she reminded. “Neither are you going to lay your filthy hands on her offspring.”

Sareena wondered if the other demon had gone mad, taunting Quan Chi the way she was. The sorcerer had no qualms about ending her life or that of her unborn child.

"Are you forgetting who rules the Netherrealm, Jataaka?" The sorcerer questioned, a hint of a smirk forming on his face.

Jataaka stood her ground, her grip tightening, “You are an outsider who managed to best us, it would do you some good to know your place and remember the rules of the realm you reside in.”

It may have sounded like an empty threat but it was anything but. The Sisterhood of Shadows have helped overthrow previous overlords, they would not give up on overthrowing Quan Chi either.

"What are you trying to get at?" The sorcerer questioned.

"If you touch a single hair on her head, her unborn child or her, you will have the wrath of the Sisterhood and Lucifer upon you. You think we will tolerate you harming a member of the Sisterhood?" Jataaka said.

Quan Chi narrowed his eyes at her, a scowl forming on his face, "Very well, then. Have it your way.”

His gaze was now on Sareena and the demon felt a chill running down her spine.

"But I will be back. Soon," the sorcerer spat before taking his leave.

Drahmin and Moloch trailed behind him like two lost puppies, leaving Sareena and Jataaka alone in the room.

The demon could feel herself shaking, she was not in the clear just yet. Her child was still in danger and Quan Chi would make sure to get rid of them.

Jataaka had noticed her distraught, the demon holding her in a reassuring embrace, "Don't worry, he will not touch you. We won't let him."

She could only hope so.

tagging: @livingdeadgirly

[mikerickson]

8/29/2024 - 9/6/2024

If I had a nickel for every time I took a vacation in a small European naval power that historically punched above its weight in global affairs I'd have two nickels, which... ah, you know the rest.

Just got back from a trip to the Netherlands and Belgium that was basically: Amsterdam -> Apeldoorn -> Utrecht -> Den Haag -> Brussels -> Ghent -> Amsterdam. I will now proceed to talk to myself about the highlights below the cut.

Still can't sleep on planes. I even took a sleeping pill and bought a fancy new neck pillow thing to help, but instead I was just exhausted and strangling myself. My dinner also didn't sit well with me, so every time I was about to fall asleep, my gag reflex would trigger and I felt like I was gonna throw up. Seven hours of this was not very relaxing.

Landed at ass o'clock in the morning local time and had 6 hours to kill before hotel check in. I've always read that spending time outdoors in natural sunlight helps regulate your circadian rhythm and can fight jet lag, so I took us to look at some windmills. This was kind of a blur and I'm not certain it made much of a difference because I did end up crashing and taking a nap in the afternoon anyway.

Acknowledging that I am biased about this because I am 1) American and 2) literally a traffic engineer by trade, I simply cannot describe the Netherlands as anything other than "car-hostile". I felt actively unsafe driving around each city we visited because there are so many people on bicycles everywhere, who have right of way. Hell, even as a pedestrian I didn't feel safe because they come at you from every direction and you gotta keep your head on a swivel at all times. In The Hague I watched a woman get knocked into by a cyclist who just shouted over her shoulder "Let op voor fietsen!" ("Watch out for bikes!") and carried on.

Amsterdam ended up being more interesting than I was expecting and now I kinda wish I had dedicated one more day for it in the itinerary. Convenient and easy mass-transit system, some of the best bookstores I've ever been in, and beautiful canals everywhere you look.

Were I forced to describe the geography of the Netherlands, I would have to call it "suspiciously flat." I also got to continue my tradition of traveling to foreign countries, seeing literal hundreds of spinning wind turbines all over the place, and seething with jealousy.

Utrecht was a neat, smaller city with a central canal that I wish I had set aside more time for. Felt like a place where you'd actually want to live more than a touristy city.

The Mauritshuis in The Hague is where Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring is located, and you know that before you even get to that room because she's plastered on 99% of everything for sale in the gift shop right at the entrance.

When we drove over the Netherlands-Belgium border, it started getting overcast. These gray skies hung around for four days, and dissipated as soon as we traveled back north on the final day. All of my memories of this country will now have a gray/de-saturated filter on them.

I know Brussels has a reputation of being a run-down or dangerous city among Europeans, but it just felt like a regular American city to me (specifically like the architecture/street layout of Boston with the political importance of Washington DC). Like, I don't know what to tell you, sometimes cities have visible homeless people, unsightly graffiti, and ethnic minority neighborhoods? It's gonna be okay, I promise. Amsterdam felt like Weenie Hut Jr. by comparison.

Going through the European Parliament building was very cool and very well laid-out and informative. Definitely a personal highlight of the trip for me.

The Belgian War Museum kinda just felt like some rich guy's personal collection of artifacts the public shouldn't have had access to? Not a lot of labels explaining what you're looking at in any language.

Belgian chocolate is fine. Not bad, but I mean it's chocolate, that's hard to screw up, you know?

During my research before this trip I kept seeing a general consensus that Bruges is super touristy and sanitized and feels fake and that Ghent was better for a more "authentically" preserved medieval center. I'm glad I opted to go there instead because it exceeded my expectations. Awesome architecture everywhere you turn, way fewer crowds than I expected, and it still felt lived in by modern people rather than a giant open-air museum.

Literally did not see a single physical Euro at all on this trip. Both of these countries are entirely cashless societies, and everyone (both tourists and locals) used chip readers and contactless payment for damn near every interaction. If anything, I saw tons of "Card Only/No Cash" signs and none of the opposite.

[andiv3r]

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BLINKIES MADE WITH BLINKIES.CAFE

From here

[standfucker]

Engravings

inspired by the following comment on my last SH fic:

Couldn't stop thinking about it, which eventually led to this.

Characters: Sanji

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 6.2k

CW: Hurt/Comfort, SH, SH scars, auditory hallucinations, PTSD, mental institution-related trauma. No shipping, ace-friendly

Summary: It’s Sanji. You’re immediately, wholeheartedly certain. It’s Sanji, and he knows.

AO3 Link

"I’m listening to everything / please, tell me everything"

Nothing’s happened.

The sea is calm, the sun is shining, and the breeze is strong. All in all, a great day for sailing.

Nothing’s happened…

No recent squabbles among the crew, no surprises from sea beasts, no battles with pirates or Marines.

There’s no reason to feel the way you do. No trigger or logic to it. But you feel it anyway.

It’s like there’s an invisible filter over everything. Nothing looks different. Things sound different, though. The sounds of the waves and wind, the snapping of sailcloth and rope, the din of the crew’s voices. All of it wavers, like someone has their hand on a universal volume dial, yanking it back and forth at random. Sometimes the sounds are piercingly loud, like they’re right next to your ears, making you resist the urge to cover them. Sometimes the sounds blend into the background of everything else in a low, dull hum–so distorted that you have to focus to parse what’s being said to you.

The sound issue is your second tip-off that you’re having that kind of day. The first is the sense that the Sunny feels too small. And, crushingly, overwhelmingly, it feels like your fault. Irrational, but you can’t shake it. Really, it’s stupid: On the outside, it just looks like you’re hanging out next to your crewmates, making idle conversation. Inwardly, there’s such a deep feeling of guilt for just being there that you’re ready to throw yourself overboard.

You try to cope. You really do. You make an effort, mentally talking yourself through it.

I am allowed to take up space. I am allowed to exist.

You want to cry. You want to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. It doesn’t make sense, and there’s no cause you can identify. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

No one notices. How could they? Your mask is calm smiles and practiced eye contact, formed with easy jokes and interest in what the others say. Your mask is years in the making, thick with each layer you’ve added to seal in the cracks. It’s heavy and ugly, but it keeps you safe.

I am allowed to exist.

There’s no danger. You can’t explain why your fight-or-flight response is going off. There’s something wrong with you, and no one can see it because the problem is deep in the wiring. You can’t even see it. But you can feel it, and it feels so god-awful you don’t know how to endure it.

You feel yourself shaking from head to toe, so much so that it’s hard to keep your balance. But when you look down, your body is completely still. The noise around you blends together and buzzes like static, harsh on your ears. Then it gets louder.

I am allowed to exist.

You want to crawl in a hole and hide.

I am…

You excuse yourself–casually, collectedly–and head for the ship’s interior. You know what you’re going to do before you even start moving, like the decision’s already been made for you. A certainty that settles in your system, something to hold onto. The background noise grows even louder.

You stumble into the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door, all sound cuts out. 

You can’t hear anything. Not even the sea, nor the creaking wood of the ship. The room shifts, draws away from you until you have tunnel vision. Your vision warps, then focuses on the cabinet above the sink until you can see nothing else. Just like before.

It’s been a few weeks since the last time.

The background noise slowly picks up, but it’s distant, like you’re hearing it coming from a different ship. You reach for the cabinet.

What are you doing?

You open the cabinet. It’s organized so each crewmate’s stuff is clustered together, with the common items at the bottom. Your gaze passes over your deodorant, your nail clippers, your toothbrush, and settles on your straight razor.

Aren’t you too old for this?

You take your razor. From the common items, you take a bottle of alcohol. You fold up some tissue paper.

What would the crew think?

It’s hard to ignore the thoughts. But like any bully, they usually go away if you don’t give them energy. Usually.

The razor’s weight in your hand is comforting. It shouldn’t be, but it is. You unfold it, wipe down the blade with some alcohol. Then you lift up your sleeve and slide it over your shoulder.

This stretch of sea has been balmy. With the pleasant weather, you’ve worn a t-shirt, the short sleeves going just less than halfway down your arm. Underneath them, high up on your shoulder, are the scars. Faint and healed, a few shades lighter than your skin tone. Noticeable in the light, but that’s why you don’t participate in the group baths.

The background noise gets louder again. You think you hear shouting, faintly, but that’s normal for the crew. It barely registers over your heartbeat. 

Your heart is beating harder than before, dull thumps in your chest that seem to echo. Anticipating, ready.

Everything is going to be okay.

Finally. Finally. A hurt you can make sense of. Small, controlled. Yours.

There’s supposed to be a rush, you’ve heard. You don’t feel one. But there is a difference. The tunnel vision stops, the filter lifts. The world snaps back into place, the sound goes back to normal.

That’s when you really notice the shouting, no longer muffled by brain static. Something’s off. You focus. It doesn’t sound argumentative, like Zoro and Sanji. Nor is it playful, like Luffy or Franky’s might be. It’s startled and panicky, immediately grabbing your attention and making your adrenaline surge.

A second later, you hear an echoing BOOM, followed by an ear-splitting crunching of wood. It’s a sound you recognize, one you’ve heard before–a cannonball tearing into the ship.

You’re under attack.

For just a moment, you stare at your equipment, caught off guard. Then you pull yourself together–take your feelings and compartmentalize them for later dealing with–and tear out of the bathroom, dropping the tissue in the process. Your pistols are in their case, in the sleeping quarters. You need to get to them before you can join the fight…

The enemy pirates are strong–for a New World crew. Unfortunately for them, they’re completely outclassed by Luffy alone, much less the combined strength of the Straw Hats. Still, the numbers favor the enemy, and the battle is tiring enough to be distracting. Enough so that you forgot about what you were doing before it started. It’s only an hour into helping Franky patch up the ship, when you feel your shirt sleeve catch on your scabs, that you remember.

Then you realize you left your equipment out in the bathroom.

The razor. The alcohol. The bloody tissue paper.

Panic floods your system. You drop your tools and jump up as if electrocuted, all but flying to the bathroom. Has anyone used it since the fight?

Please no, please please please be wrong.

You kick the door open. It bangs harshly against the wall.

The equipment is gone. Your stomach sinks.

No no no no no.

You open the cabinet. Everything’s been returned to its place. Your straight razor has been folded and put away, as has the alcohol. The used tissue paper is gone. Not in the trash, either. Whoever it was must have discarded it in the toilet.

No no no no no!

Who? 

Who was it? You run through the possibilities in your head. Zoro? No, he wouldn’t clean up after someone else’s mess. Neither would Nami. At least, not for free. And what about the rest of the crew?

Whoever it was, would they even know what they saw? Surely they’d just think you cut yourself shaving. That was the only explanation, right? Even if the patterns on the tissue paper were distinct, the stains shaped into blurry, beaded lines–unless they had done it before, there’s no way they’d know. Right?

This time, when you shiver, it’s for real, not just a figment of your imagination. What would happen if you were found out? At best you’d be kicked out of the crew. At worst…

I’ll get locked up again.

You feel ill. Dizzy and nauseated with the prospect. You try not to spiral, try to get a grip before panic can take hold. The best you can do is to close the door behind you, sit on the floor, and take deep breaths.

You’re not sure how long you’re there–minutes, hours–but you don’t get up until someone knocks on the door.

“You almost done?” Usopp calls from the other side.

Swallowing hard, you find your voice. “Yeah. Just a sec.”

Usopp doesn’t so much as give you a second glance when you pass him. It’s not him.

You’re hypervigilant the rest of the day, scrutinizing every action, every word from your crewmates. Nothing seems different, but that only makes you more paranoid.

Nami offers you a tangerine. The simple action sets off a cascade of racing thoughts: Is she trying to make you feel better? Because she knows? Did she tell anyone? Did she tell Chopper? Luffy?

Every interaction is like that–an innocuous action that makes you flip out internally.

Franky gives you a gift: A cute little wind-up frog toy, made from scrap metal. He says it's to thank you for helping with repairs. You scan his face, but he’s only grinning proudly. Not Franky, either. 

Zoro invites you to drink with him. Brook plays a song you like. Robin hands you a book she’s just finished, saying it might suit your tastes. Nothing unusual, but enough to make you second guess everything. Each time, you cling to your mask, holding it so tightly to your face that you can barely breathe.

The next day, Sanji cooks your favorite meal for dinner. That wouldn’t be too weird, except you know for a fact that your favorite involves pricy ingredients that he prefers to save. You know this because he mentioned it, years ago, when he was teaching you how to make the dish.

You and Sanji had joined the Straw Hats at the same time. Two weeks before Luffy had shown up, you had tried and failed to dine-and-dash from Baratie. Zeff forced you to work to pay it off, plus an extra week to “teach you a lesson.” That was when you got to know Sanji. Unlike the rest of the chefs, he wasn’t mad at you for what you did. He even taught you some of the basics of cooking. As the only soft presence on the floating restaurant, you grew attached, and that feeling of reliance never really left since then. You were drawn to his air of confidence and self-assuredness, but mostly to the fact that he never hid who he was, even when who he was could be straight-up idiotic at times. But you still respected that about him.

You always liked to hang out around the cook, helping him prepare meals with what you learned at Baratie. You both fought well together, having each others’ backs in battle despite your different fighting styles. It was safe to say that he was your favorite crewmate, and though you weren’t sure what he thought of you, you viewed him as your closest friend.

So you really, really don’t want it to be Sanji.

You appraise his expression, his movement, his actions. It all seems normal, on the surface. And yet, it feels off somehow, but you can’t tell if that’s just the paranoia speaking.

“How is it?” Sanji inquires.

You stare for a second. It’s not a question he usually asks–he knows it’s your favorite and he knows you think it’s amazing. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but the smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Delicious, as always,” you say. Your own smile lights up your face, the way you’ve carefully practiced. “What’s the occasion?”

He pauses, rubs the back of his neck. “No reason, really. I just thought that it’s been a while since we’ve had it.”

That evening, you’re alone at the port side of the ship, leaning against the railing and looking out at the night sea. Sometimes it helps with your racing thoughts. This time, it does nothing. Nothing keeps you from fixating on the situation. You feel like you’re hanging by a thread, like at any moment you’ll get kicked off the crew, and then your whole world will unravel. And it’s entirely your fault.

The questions won’t stop repeating themselves: Who was it? Did they know?

Behind you, someone clears their throat. You whirl around a bit too quickly and steady yourself with a hand on the railing. Sanji’s standing there with his hands in his pockets. Something about his posture sets alarm bells off in your head. He’s too stiff, trying too hard to appear composed.

“Hey, Y/n,” Sanji says gently, “can I talk to you about something?”

It’s Sanji. 

You’re immediately, wholeheartedly certain. It’s Sanji, and he knows.

You gape at him for a moment, then collect yourself. The mask comes back on.

“Actually, I’m pretty tired. Gonna turn in for the night. Tomorrow, okay?” you dismiss, and go to walk past him.

“Wait a second, Y/n,” he reaches to grab your wrist, but you yank it away before he can.

“Don’t!” you snap, stepping back, then quickly correct yourself. “I mean–don’t surprise me like that! We’ll talk tomorrow. I really should sleep...”

Sanji frowns, hand slowly lowering, and you make a hasty retreat.

The rest of the week is torture. You’re constantly avoiding Sanji wherever possible. He doesn’t strike up conversation when the others are around, which only makes you more certain that he knows. You ensure that you’re never alone with him, and if he does approach you by himself, you make yourself scarce. It becomes harder and harder to hide that you’re avoiding him. The crew takes notice–it’s not difficult considering you and Sanji are normally close.

Zoro’s the first to say something.

“Oi, Y/n. Did you have a fight with the cook or something?” he asks bluntly.

“No, we didn’t,” you reply.

Zoro’s eyes narrow slightly. “Well, you’re both acting weird.”

Some of the others are looking your way, now. Anxiety sours your stomach. You hold your mask steady as he continues.

“You’ve been kind of flighty lately. And he’s oddly subdued,” Zoro says, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, since he’s finally quiet for once, but it’s annoying. Would you just talk to him?”

“Uh…yeah, sure thing.”

Obviously, you don’t talk to Sanji. You keep evading him at every turn, only growing more distressed with each passing day. You know you can’t dodge the issue forever, but the moment you stop is the moment you’ll get kicked off the crew or worse, and that thought makes you want to die.

But the Sunny is only so large, and eventually, Sanji manages to corner you one night at the bow of the ship. You have your back to the figurehead, throat dry as you face him. Brook is up in the crow’s nest, keeping watch. Everyone else is asleep. It’s just you two, and you know you’ve run out of luck.

“We need to talk, Y/n,” Sanji says firmly.

Your throat goes dry. “Now?”

“Right now. No more running,” he says, taking a few steps closer. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly.”

There’s no getting out of it anymore. “...Alright.” you say. Your heart pounds harder, palms growing damp.

Sanji takes a long drag off his cigarette, then stubs it out–that’s when your adrenaline really spikes, when you know you’re in for it. He looks you in the eye.

“Should you have access to firearms?”

The question hits you like a brick, stunning you into wide-eyed silence. You open your mouth, then close it, unable to respond for a second.

“...What are you talking about?” you try.

“Given how you’ve been avoiding me,” he says coolly, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I’m–I’m not following.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Y/n!” he snaps, and you cringe. “Of everything you’re hiding, this is the one thing I’m going to find out. I’m not asking. You’re going to tell me or I’m going to tell Chopper. So answer me, right now: Are you safe around guns?”

You can’t take another step back, but you instinctively try anyway, your heel scraping the wood of the ship. But there’s nothing you can do. The mask crumbles, years and years of desperate crafting turning to dust in an instant.

“God, Sanji,” you respond, “what am I supposed to say to that?”

“The truth,” he says.

“And if you didn’t like my answer, what would you do? Take them away from me?”

“Yes.” His tone is unyielding, his eyes hard.

Yours start to sting at the corners. “And what after that? You’ll have me–” you bite your tongue to keep the tears from forming, “–you’ll have me kicked off the crew?”

“I never said that,” he says stiffly, “you don’t get it–”

“You don’t get it!” you bite back, voice rising. You lower it before continuing, “you don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re cutting.”

You flinch. The words sting. It’s not a pleasant sting this time. You turn your head, unable to look him in the eye.

“It’s just…” Sanji says, and there’s a touch of hurt in his voice, “after everything we’ve been through, I thought you trusted me.”

“I do,” you say automatically.

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

That stings even deeper. You shake your head. “I do, Sanji, but this is different.”

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business!” you bite. Bile rises in your throat at your venom; you hate being callous.

“My friend’s hurting themselves,” Sanji replies thinly, “that makes it my business.”

“That isn’t how this works!” you argue. “You don’t get to know everything about me just because you don’t like this!”

“Don’t I?”

“No!”

“You don’t feel safe with me.”

That one’s like a punch to the gut. You can’t tell what’s worse, the words themselves or the way he’s looking at you. That one hurts the most, because it’s true.

“...No,” you say after a moment, then steel yourself. “You’re right. I don’t. I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Sanji, please.”

“Don’t you plead now,” Sanji says, his tone hardening. “Don’t you put me in this position, Y/n.”

“I don’t have a choice, Sanji. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Why?”

“Sanji!”

“Why?!”

“Because last time I trusted someone with this, I lost everything!” you blurt out. “I was institutionalized, okay?! Locked up! Is that what you wanted to know? Are you satisfied now?”

Your words echo in the silence that follows. He stares, jaw dropped slightly. You’re shaking, for real this time, and the words pour from you like a dam unblocked.

“You don’t know how humiliating it is, Sanji, to have the strings on all your clothes cut off, to be given only felt tip pens to write with, to not have doors, to have a scheduled bed time. To have all your choices taken away.” Your vision blurs as you continue. “I couldn’t do anything. It was like a prison. The other patients didn’t give a shit. The staff definitely didn’t give a shit. And all the while, they drained me of all my savings, until I didn’t have a single berri to my name. Then they kicked me to the curb. The one who reported me didn’t want to be associated with a crazy person. Neither did the rest of my friends. I was homeless. I had no one and nothing! That’s why I fled my home island, and that’s why I tried to dine and dash at Baratie.”

Sanji looks taken aback. He blinks quickly, then stares down at the deck. “What would you have me do, then?”

“This is supposed to be private!” You cover your face, fighting back tears. “You need–you need to keep your mouth shut and mind your business! I don't want anyone’s ‘support.’ You were never supposed to know.” You take a shaky breath and lower your hands. “If you really care, you’ll keep it to yourself, you’ll forget what you saw, and if you tell anyone…I won’t stick around to make the same mistake twice.”

Despite what you say, you already know it’s too late. There’s no going back, and now that he knows, it’s only a matter of time until you’re left behind. You bite your tongue to keep from crying at the thought, but you have to bite harder this time. The tears keep threatening to spill anyway, until you’re tasting iron.

Sanji is quiet. He pulls out his cigarettes and lights one, not speaking until after he takes a drag. “…Do you regret joining the crew?”

“Joining the Straw Hats was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you say honestly. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“But you aren’t happy, are you?”

“Multiply something by zero and you get zero, right?” You look away, guilt eating at you. Experience tells you that no one wants to hear this. “I’m not trying to sound dramatic. I just… I don’t work right.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic.”

For some reason, that, more than anything else, breaks you. The first tears slip past your defense. You say nothing, lower lip trembling.

Sanji takes another slow drag of his cig and exhales away from your direction. “I don’t know how I missed it.”

“I do,” you say. “At the hospital, they…” the words die in your throat as the memories surge forward. “They…they…” You can’t finish, but tears begin streaming down your cheeks. You shake your head. “Let’s just say, after that, I learned not to ever give anything away. Never again.”

“They did something to you.”

You barely nod. Already you feel yourself slipping into a flashback, feel the nurses holding you down and the needle jabbing into your flesh.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji says, taking a step toward you, and then another, until he can reach out and gently touch your forearm. The touch brings you back, grounding you so that you’re back in the present. But the gentle action, and Sanji’s soft expression, only makes the tears flow faster, makes your nose run. You shrug.

“It must have been scary.”

Slowly, you nod again.

“Will you answer my question, Y/n? Please?” Sanji asks. “Please, I need to know you’re safe around guns. Will you at least tell me that much?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and wipe your face. When you answer, you look him in the eye so he knows you’re telling the truth. “Yeah. I’m… Yeah.”

Sanji sighs, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Thank goodness. Okay. Can I ask you something else?” At your nod, he goes on. “How long have you been feeling like this? Before the hospital, I mean.”

“...Since I was young,” you sniff. “I’ve been ‘coping’ on and off for years.”

Sanji sticks his hands in his pockets. “Okay. Can I see?”

“What?” The question catches you so off-guard that you stop crying. “I’m–I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going to show Chopper, right?” Sanji says. “So–”

“You’re not gonna tell him?” you cut him off, surprised.

“I haven't decided yet,” he admits. “I don’t want to go against your wishes, Y/n. But I don’t know the extent of the damage. Just… Just, let me see?”

“No.” You’re shocked at his audacity. What’s he thinking? Of course you can’t do that.

“I won’t judge. I swear, I just want to know you’re okay,” Sanji says.

“You can say that, but…” you rub your arm. “Be real. You’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“It won’t change how I think of you.”

“It will!” you shout, then lower your voice. “It will, forever. There’s no going back once that line is crossed and you see me for what I really am.”

He frowns. “Which is?”

“A freak!” 

Neither of you say anything for a moment. Then you shake your head again. “I’m sorry, Sanji. But a guy like you–strong, handsome, confident–you wouldn’t understand.”

Sanji gets a weird look on his face, one you’ve never seen in all the years you’ve sailed with him. He looks to the side, then down, then up. His drags on his cigarette become long and harsh, finishing it in three breaths. He lights another, making a face. Then he nods to himself, like he’s decided something.

“Okay,” Sanji says. “There’s something I want you to see.”

You frown. When Sanji puts his hands on the hem of his pants, you frown deeper. He pauses.

“Um. Just trust me, okay? I promise I’m not doing anything weird–just wait a sec.”

He slides down his pants, and you have no idea what’s going through his head until his pale upper thighs are exposed. Then, finally, you understand, and you cover your mouth in shock.

Both of his upper thighs are covered in a myriad of scars. There must be over a hundred, clustered just above where shorts would hide them. Most of them are big, inches long and criss-crossed with each other. A few are keloid scars, thick and raised above the skin.

Your stare could burn a hole through his flesh. Slowly, you look up at him. Sanji has a faint blush on his face, looking sheepish.

“Guys like me can be freaks too,” he says simply.

You’re in complete disbelief. You keep looking back from the scars to his face. It’s too much to process–where would you even begin? Sanji, of everyone on the crew–Sanji’s like you? Brave, unwavering, gallant Sanji? Of everyone? When you don’t respond, he speaks again.

“See, Y/n? You’re not alone.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes again. You find your voice. “Yours are old.”

“Yeah. I got lucky. Had someone’s support.” Sanji smiles slightly, in a way that he only does when thinking of…

“Zeff?”

“Yeah. He eventually found out.” Sanji laughs nervously. “At first he freaked out. Thought I was using kitchen knives. After he calmed down, he told me…he told me he wouldn’t abandon me over that, because what kind of parent would that make him?” His expression wavers like he’s trying not to cry.

You, on the other hand, start crying again the moment you hear the word “abandoned.” You realize that’s precisely how you felt back then.

Sanji grabs your shoulders so you look up at him. “You’re not getting kicked off of the crew.”

“...I’m not?” you ask, voice small and pathetic.

“No. I promise.” Sanji squeezes your shoulders reassuringly. “No one else needs to know. But, Y/n, I’m not going to leave you to deal with this alone. So, will you show me?”

“...You won’t tell anyone?”

“I won’t. I swear on my honor. This stays between us.” He lowers his arms.

You bite your lip, sniffing. You shut your eyes, mustering up your courage, and nod. Sanji waits patiently as you breathe slowly to steady yourself. You hesitate before peeling back your sleeve, exposing your upper arm.

He’s quiet as he inspects the damage. Unlike his old scars, yours have yet to finish healing, still in the scabbing stage. A ladder of thin, dark red lines decorate your upper arm and shoulder. You look between your cuts and his scars. Yours aren’t as deep as what Sanji had done, which you feel weirdly ashamed about.

Sanji’s hand comes up, hovering over your cuts like he’s going to touch them, but then he rests it on your forearm instead. Despite the clear evidence that he won’t judge you, you’re still self-conscious, so you break the silence.

“The scabs catch on my sleeves,” you say awkwardly.

Sanji nods. “I had to bandage my thigh so it wouldn’t bleed through while I was working. It always felt so…”

“Stupid,” you both say. Then you both smile at the unexpected camaraderie. 

“What’s really stupid is how long I went thinking I was the only one,” you say, “and all this time, you…” You gesture vaguely.

“Can you do something for me?” Sanji asks. “Whatever you’re using–I’m not going to take anything from you. But in exchange, I want you to talk to me. We can talk in the galley, when it’s just us two.”

“I don’t know how to talk about it.”

How could you, after what had been done to you? After everyone you used to trust turned their backs? Knowing that Sanji understood you couldn’t fix the mental scars left behind by others. You could try to rationalize it, but just thinking about discussing the past made your throat dry up.

“If I told you about mine first, would it make you more comfortable?” Sanji offers.

You balk. “You–you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind, if it means helping you.” Sanji says earnestly. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge. How could I? We’re the same.”

Something broken inside you changes right then. Deep engravings fill with gold like broken pottery, sealing some of the cracks in your soul. Unmasked and exposed, Sanji sees into you, and he doesn’t waver or turn. He smiles, gently and softly and lovingly. Your eyes fill with fresh tears.

Sanji holds out his pinky finger. “Freaks?”

You smile from ear to ear, even as the tears start flowing again, and lock pinkies with him. “Freaks.”

So caught up in the moment are the two of you that neither one notices when Zoro appears until it’s too late.

He’s further down the deck, but standing right under one of the ship’s lights, so you can see him smile. “Hey, you guys are–” he starts, then notices Sanji’s pants. His smile instantly turns to a look of indignation, then rage. “What the hell?!”

Sanji scrambles to pull up his pants as Zoro charges.

“What the hell are you doing to Y/n, you creep?!” Zoro yells.

You hurriedly pull down your sleeve and move in front of Sanji, holding your arms up. “Wait a sec, Zoro!” 

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” Sanji cries.

Zoro screeches to a halt right in front of you, but then stretches over your shoulder to snarl at Sanji. “You better have a good explanation for this, shitty cook!”

You grab Zoro’s arms to hold him back. Not that you could ever hope to overpower him, but you know he’s too brotherly toward you to push you out of the way. “Zoro!”

“What?” Zoro turns his focus on you, “what did he do? I’ll kick his ass for you, Y/n.”

“No, that’s–”

Sanji interjects, “I didn’t–”

“We were…”

Zoro relaxes somewhat, now frowning and looking at both of you weirdly. “What exactly were you guys doing?”

Really, being in the middle of the night, it’s not a good look. You and Sanji are both caught off guard. Fumbling hard, you both speak at once.

“I was looking at a fungal infection!” you say.

“They were removing a tick!” Sanji says at the same time.

Both of you glance at each other.

“Tick,” you correct.

“Fungal,” Sanji says.

Zoro blinks. “A fungal tick?”

You both just nod.

Zoro stares between you two, then relaxes. “Oh... Okay. Good of you to not wake Chopper.” He nods and turns, leaving the two of you to it.

So flooded with relief are you that it’s staggering. You mentally thank the stars that Zoro is a simple and straightforward type of guy.

You and Sanji watch Zoro walk away. Once he’s out of earshot, you both look at each other.

Then you both burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, clutching your chest.

Sanji wipes away a tear. “That was close, huh?”

The laughter dies down into giggles before you calm yourselves, grinning at each other. Then you’re both throwing your arms around the other in a tight embrace, squeezing like you’ve never been hugged before in your lives. You bury your face in Sanji’s chest, he rests his head on yours. Your fingers dig into the other’s clothing, soaking in the warmth and the comfort that you could only get from someone who truly understood. You stay like that for a few minutes, quiet, close, and held.

“Are you sure?” you whisper after a minute. “That you want to deal with this? With me? What if I never get better?”

“Nothing’s set in stone but the poneglyphs,” Sanji replies, running a hand over your head so you look up at him. “Our future hasn’t been determined.”

“Our future?”

“You and me and the rest of the crew. There’s still time to grow, and to change.” He holds the back of your head tenderly.

“When does that time run out?” you ask, uncertain.

“It doesn’t.” Sanji smiles down at you. “As long as we’re alive, there’s another chance. That opportunity is always there.”

You smile back, then press your face into his chest again. Sanji squeezes you tighter.

“Tomorrow,” you mumble into his shirt. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“I bet.”

“I never want to hide from you again.”

You feel Sanji kiss the top of your head. “And I never want to make you cry again.”

“I want to tell you everything.”

“I’ll listen.”

You both stay like that for a while longer, each second spent there healing something within yourselves.

It will take weeks to figure out how to talk about your troubles. When you’re up for it, you talk in the galley as Sanji cooks, you helping him out as usual with prep and cleanup. It’s even longer before Sanji learns everything. In the interim, you become the only Straw Hat to learn of Sanji’s past before he ever gets a wedding invite.

Like worn muscles rebuilding, like bone regrowing stronger, the scars you’ve revealed to each other, both physical and mental, strengthen your bond more than anything else ever could.

"let it out, let me in, take a hold of my hand / there's nothing like another soul that's been cut up the same" -Handwritten, The Gaslight Anthem

[deityofproendos]

"I am all deities in one. You may endeavor your best for thousands of years and have all mankind with you in your search. But you cannot understand My Reality."

Quote stolen from a random quote website

Welcome, be not afraid.

We are the Gods and Goddesses and Deities of the pro endo court, we accept offerings in the form of Pokémon cards and food. (We'll try not to play into the religion joke too much as to not be disrespectful or trigger anyone! ^^)

Other accounts we run: @edible-emerald - Main account @xenomayhem - Xenogender (and other terms) coining account We also have a lot more, feel free to ask :D

Not going to talk much about the mods or the system running it, but we're mixed origins, esogenic, and hexabyssgenic. We're also a plurallet but the label is semi-temporary. Our headcount is at around 11 but expect it to grow!!

What will this account be for? Well, we've wanted to make one for a while but this will be a Build A Headmate blog (or a BAH blog)! What is that, you may ask? Well, often for many systems (such as ourselves) sometimes we split fragments who don't have a full identity yet and need one to 'latch onto' to fully form! It can also be used by willogenic systems and really just anyone who wants to :) ANTI RADQUEER!!

We haven't made a source list yet, just ask and we'll tell you if we know it :) We know a lot of indie animations, and minecraft SMPs, if that helps!

BAH template, tagging system, and other court members under the cut!

To ask for a BAH request, send in an ask asking for a basic, medium, or detailed pack! Be as specific as you want, or as vague as you want. Your decision! Keep in mind the more detailed you are the longer it will take. If you want anything removed, please let us know!

Here's what's in each pack:

Basic pack:

Name

Pronouns

Gender

Sexuality/orientation

Species

Source (if applicable)

Role

Age

Short description of appearance

Anything else you want us to add!

-- From here, everything added on will not be in the basic pack, but will be in the medium pack.

Personality

Likes

Dislikes

Alterhuman identities

Hobbies

Aesthetic(s)

Faceclaim/Picrew/art (art would be made by us and usually would have to be requested)

-- From here, everything added on will not be in the basic or medium pack, but will be in the detailed pack.

Pos front triggers

Neg front triggers

Typing quirk

Signoff

Favorite things

--

Tagging system:

#pro endo court - Most things

#deity speaks - Most posts

#reblog - reblogs

#bah/#build a headmate/#bah blog/etc. - BAH requests & BAH related stuff

#syscourse - syscourse posts and reblogs, we won't actively argue with people on this account, but may talk about it occasionally.

#deity syscourse - this is another syscourse tag, but this one is here for easier tag filtering if you don't want to block all syscourse posts.

#off topic - not plurality related, just rambling

#roleplaying - roleplay posts

#deity lore - roleplaying OR general character lore

#pro endo court lore/#court lore - lore of us/other blogs

--

The court:

@queenofproendos

@the-dame-of-endos

@princessofendos

@kingofproendos

@jesterofproendos

@peasantofproendos

@dragonofendos

@baroness-of-endos

@dukeofproendos

@seroftheproendos

@knightofproendos

@darkwizardofproendos

@prince-of-pro-endos

@kitsune-of-pro-endo

@otterofproendos

@lapdogofproendos

@housemaiden-of-pro-endos

@lady-of-endos

@angel-of-pro-endos

[haveyoureadthismcytfic]

Hi! I'm curious, so may I ask why you choose not to include info like ratings and Major Archive Warnings in the posts? I love, love, love the concept of this blog and I think it's a really fun way to bring attention to hidden gems, and while I understand why you might not want to include *all* the tag metadata, as including the rating, the MAWs, the ships, the characters, aaand the freeform tags would rapidly make your posts feel very long and cluttered; but if you are accepting blog critique at all, I do think there could be value in at least making the fic rating and any Major Archive Warnings clear in the post, or even just in the tags.

Alternatively/additionally, I know there's the spreadsheet from the form submissions, but a dedicated pseud (or fresh ao3 account, if there are several mods) for bookmarking all the submitted fics could be brilliant for the purposes of this blog functioning as a way for people to find new fics, as unlike the collections function (which also comes into a second pitfall in the fact that people can opt out of having their work added to collections) the bookmarking feature has the tag filtering system built in.

Sorry this got a bit wordy, feel free to ignore it. I hope the mod/s of the blog have a lovely day! <3

The reasoning behind not including tag information is because I assumed people would look at the tags for themselves if the fic interested them based on the content of the summary and potentially the note from submitter. I often tell people to make sure they look at tags anyway if they have things that trigger them or that they would rather not read. I didn't see it as necessary, especially since this blog is technically just a "have you read it" blog, though I will admit that the true intention is for people to share fics they love to give the authors love and give other fans recommendations they may not have found otherwise.

It is only me, one person, running this blog. I could potentially have a pseudo specifically for this blog, because getting a new account requires a week wait, but I've never done a pseudo account before. All of my fan works are posted on one account. Bookmarking is a good idea for filtering, however, so I could spend the time I was going to spend right now queuing up more posts to catch up and bookmark things. I shall look into it and see if it makes sense to me.

Thank you, I hope you're doing well as well.

Update: I tried to create a pseud for the bookmark thing, but it only tangled them in with my main account's bookmarks, so I am not going to do that. This blog still works for that, and the spreadsheet exists. Plus, I tag the fics with [fandom] fanfic or [fandom] fanfiction depending which pops up for me or which I type if it doesn't so that's one way as well. In addition, ctrl+F search

[the-crystal-femmes]

// pt: do not interact / before you interact //

[ Disclaimer ]: Our DNI only really applies to followers and direct interactions, we don't check on things like reblogs and likes unless anything stands out to us.

Note: You may see the name Yellow being used here a lot, that's Rose (me!) I'm probably nomifluid and my names depend on kinshifts or whatnot. Not to be confused with Solaris, our Yellow Pearl fictive

Last edited 11/27/24 by Rose

DNI:

Bigots (racists, queerphobes (includes aphobia!), TERFs, antisemitists, intersexists, ableists, etc.), fatphobes, kink / nsfw blogs (we are hypersexual), anti endos and sysmeds, identity policers of ANY kind (as long as the identity isn't problematic), rqs and transIDs, proshippers, disordered abuse believers, anti-kin, pro/neu/complex contact harmful paraphilias, SH / ED centric blogs, anti self-dx with research, syscourse centered blogs and singlets who involve themselves in syscourse, shipcourse

We are a traumagenic median system who are researching Partial Dissociative Identity Disorder. Our host is Yellow Pearl, and you're most likely to see her than anyone else. Our frequent fronters besides that are Ula/Garnet and Pearl. The others technically front by layering (link) but we prefer the term front.

Collectively, we go by Laura! However we don't want this name used if you're only referring to one of us. Laura is good for if you don't know who's in front, as it's also our singletsona name

Do not attempt to become our friend if you don't think you can handle me (Spinel / Yellow Pearl) or anyone else in the system. I am a narcissist, I am an asshole, I am petty. If you cannot handle that, don't attempt to befriend me. /nbr

When Yellow is in front, Pearl is usually in co-con. We are connected (we think)! Please do not ask Pearl to leave co-con as ze cannot willingly do that unless Yellow is no longer in front.

Our profile photo is NOT indicative of who's in front. Yellow just likes putting sysmates on the profile picture.

We may not respond timely to things. We're all very anxious, but we promise we aren't intentionally ghosting you! We're just trying to get the courage.

We are collectively alterhuman, lesbians, aromantic. Bodily we are intersex, have NPD, autism and ADHD, however some of us hold symptoms while some don't. Only Ames, Pearl and I (YP) use the label intersex. We also consider ourselves mostly feminine but we are bodily nonbinary.

We may have a mild ID, please be patient with us! Not sure but please be patient.

We may make a lot of typing errors! Please don't point these out, that tends to upset us because most of the time we're unaware of it and find corrections more harmful than not.

Some of us are mspec and/or contradictory labels. We politely ask you to steer clear of us if you're not supportive of labels like lesboy (Ula is a lesboy).

We are fictive / fictionfolk heavy, mainly Monster High and Steven Universe. We are heavily pro-endogenic however we refuse to engage in syscourse as it's triggering for our collective.

We ask for others to become mutuals instead of following back automatically due to past experiences with Ula. We are uncomfortable following back anyone who thinks they can't handle him. Ula is our prosecutor and reserves the right to not be nice all the time.

Some of us are in a queerplatonic polycule, others are not. We don't tend to post about this much besides Yellow.

We are bodily physically alterhuman however we don't know how, we just are.

A lot of us struggle with being nice and can be provoked easily. We always recommend exercising caution around us, but please don't let our difficulties deterr anyone!

Garnet and Pearl don't tend to use tone tags with text. If you need any tone clarifications, please ask!

Although we're more than happy to filter tag for mutuals and will use respective lists for mutuals, there are a few things we tag generally due to memory problems. These are currently:

Scopophobia (#tw scopophobia)

We may also refuse to filter tag things that our identities revolve around. If this happens, we will discuss it!

More misc things: Yellow is a lion and bat therian, and Garnet is a bat therian. Please contact us if you have a problem with our behavior (asks for non-mutuals and mutuals, DMs for mutuals 16+) so we can work on it. Our other interests include screenshot redrawing, bats, stuffed animals and video games.

Our discord is mx.werebat! Please read this (link) before sending in a friend request or direct message! We have the right to tell you no.

[maccaronimassacre]

Update time!

It's your favourite procrastinating piece of macaroni here to give you a quick update and overview on what's happening and what I'm planning. I'm sorry about the lack of bot dumps and my slow responses to requests. The burnout has been real and c.ai's fluctuating bot quality has made me frustrated with editing bots only for me to either get short or repetitive responses, very OOC replies or stories with little to no slowburn.

First things first, I have created a second account called MaccStrikesBacc which will be dedicated to bots in fandoms outside of Resident Evil. This is more of an impulsive side project kind of thing to go alongside my main account. I have created a separate masterlist for better clarification. link to c.ai profile here

Alongside my two masterlists, there's now a website called caibotlist dedicated to searching for character ai bots. It has an easy to navigate search system, filters, tags, trigger warnings, categories, fandoms and folders for different types of bots. I seriously recommend it to any users or bot creators. Maccaroni_Masscare profile, MaccStrikesBacc profile.

A quick thank you to everyone who voted on my poll, it has shifted my priorities away from character calls and I'll focus on the standard roleplay bots. I have made one character call centred bot for every character but I wont go out of my way to make them unless people specifically ask.

The bots that I am currently making right now to introduce are Luis Serra and Ashley Graham. Albert Wesker is still up for debate.

Besides from that thank you all for your support! I enjoy hearing everyone's feedback and all the creative concepts people have or bots <3

[blazehedgehog]

Have you ever played Chrono Cross?

I own Chrono Cross! Chrono Trigger is one of my favorite RPGs of all time! I was psyched to play Chrono Cross!

I was extremely disappointed by Chrono Cross!

Chrono Cross feels like a game made almost to spite fans of Chrono Trigger. Vastly different art style, vastly different world, with a lore that basically says "Remember everybody you loved from Trigger? They're dead now. And they probably died tragic or embarrassing deaths."

It fills that void with a lot of incoherency. Because Cross hangs its hat on having 44 collectible party members, very few of them have any impact and basically never participate in the main story. The English localization is even structured in such a way that most of the cast pulls from a single library of side-character dialog that gets fed through an "accent filter" depending on who is saying it. Meaning 97% of the cast is not written to have any legitimate role in the story.

What story can be gleaned is a deliberately confusing mess of mysteries layered within mysteries, none of which ever get explained until the last 3-5 hours of gameplay. So you toil for 27+ hours not having any idea what's going on or why, only to get hit by a freight train of dense lore as you start to round the final bend.

I only know this because a friend explained it all to me once, about FATE and the lineage of the Dragonians and all of that late-game lore.

In truth, I got stuck in Chrono Cross and not even pouring over 3 different GameFAQ guides could get me unstuck. It was some event involving one of the versions of Captain Fargo, or at least that's what I thought I had to do. It was some time after the "switch" event with Serge (if you know, you know) and all the guides said I had to get Fargo to go back to Marbule or something.

But it never worked. He never budged. So I didn't know where to go. After a week of throwing myself at that problem I gave up and resigned myself to never finishing Chrono Cross. This was back in, like, 2002 or 2003, so faded memories by now.

Which I was fine with, because honestly, I was getting pretty bored to tears with the game. There's only so much "you don't know what's going on because it's a 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑦" before you get tired of it, and systems-wise it wasn't grabbing me either. That was Square's "experimental" phase, where they were messing with (or straight up deleting) core RPG mechanics just to see what would happen. So Final Fantasy 8 screwed with the gear and magic systems, and Chrono Cross screwed with how you gain experience points and level up.

Which is to say you kind of... don't? Only bosses give EXP, so that basically means you're always guaranteed to level up after every boss. There's no reason to fight fodder enemies outside of getting item drops. Which would be great if they let you avoid most monster encounters, but they don't, so it just wastes time and contributes towards nothing. And battles get needlessly drawn out thanks to the elemental field system, too.

It's a gorgeous game, full of absolutely immaculate art direction. I'm a lifelong fan of any soundtrack with Yasunori Mitsuda (and I even have an autographed Chrono Cross songbook from him!) But anything about the story or gameplay is wet cardboard to me.

I keep thinking about going back to it, starting over fresh, seeing if I like it more now that I'm an older and different person. But I haven't gotten around to it yet. Like a lot of RPGs in my life right now it's locked behind the promise of "maybe after I finish Mother 3" which is going on two years now -- but I picked it back up this week and am rounding the final bend on that one, if you can believe it.

[ohsalome]

Thank you for speaking out about Western centrism.

In one of your last your last post you mentioned in the tags that Ukrainians were traumatized living in Germany and fled in horror.

What caused this? What can Germans do to make Ukrainians feel welcome here

I am Ukrainian diaspora living in Germany and working with Ukrainian refugees here. Ukrainians refugees have told me that they can't believe that some Germans are unwilling to support Ukraine, while their family and friends are bombed in Ukraine and they themselves experienced air strikes. They are angry that some Germans think they deserve to die and are calling for so called "peace"

Hi! First of all, thank you for helping our people out - this really means a lot. If not for the genuine help that came from common people, I don't know what we'd be doing by now. So thank you once again.

Appeasenick Germans are, undoubtely, an infuriating factor, but I have huge doubts they can be, like… talked out of it. It would be nice to at least keep them away from traumatised refugees, but I currently cannot see any realistic solutions to this problem.

The biggest trouble, of course, is the parts of the German government that advocate for appeasement and prevent us from getting weapons. Sorry but this is Нікчемщина

The things I've heard people complaining about the most are of bureocratic nature, and I'm afraid this is not something that can be changed overnight. But this comes back to my point that every country has its pros and cons; for many years we looked up to Germany as an ideal of perfect European life, and after going there, we discovered that many things are much more comfortable in Ukraine.

For example, opening a bank account. To do this in Ukraine, I don't even need to leave my home - this can be done in half an hour through an app. A shitton of governmental services are fully digital as well - like opening a private business or applying for a marriage - and full digitalisation of the governmental services is in the plans. Another thing that is much better in Ukraine - we don't need to wait months for a doctor's appointment. Some time ago I needed to visit a doctor, so I just walked into my nearest hospital, and there just was a free opening in an hour. I had a consultation, ultrasound and prescription in one go, and all of it was for free. Oh, and not to mention, shops and other establishments are open on Sundays. Should I even mention the difference between Deutschebahn and Ukrzaliznytsya? Guys, sometimes I wonder how do you even survive like this.

Now, to think about it, I have heard some problems ukrainians had in german refugee centres specifically. For example, the abundance of russian workers. Now, I fully understand and respect their desire to help refugees, it is a morally sound choice, but you have to understand that many people flee from occupied towns or places that underwent constant bombings. Many women escaped to Europe after being raped by russian soldiers. They might be literally triggered by being in the proximity of russians or hearing russian language, yet german government had dispatched them to work in centres because "we speak the same language"? At the very least there needs to be some type of filtering system to screen out the russians who will get angry at ukrainians for not acting sufficiently grateful for their help, or genuine rushists (I have heard a story of one old russian man in Germany who was yelling at the ukrainians for not taking russian passports and "provoking" russia into attacking Ukraine. wtf). Oh, and another issue I've heard about is that many paper materials like leaflets etc. are only avaliable in translated into russian, but not ukrainian. This is genuinely insulting because it reinforces the already existent stereotype that "ukrainians don't need ukrainian language since they understand russian anyway".

A necessary disclaimer that the problems described above are not an issue to everybody - a plenty of ukrainians are perfectly fine with being around russians.

Also, not all refugees from Ukraine are met equally as well - roma people in particular face much more trouble getting help and are often denied the services accessible to other ukrainians.

This topic was widely discussed around last summer, and most of the info I know is from that period; so if the issues I've described have been fixed - good. Hope my answer was of any help.

[shock-micro]

I was going to make a silly text post about not needing my blue color anymore since we have changed over to putting our emoji in the tags, but I've found an issue I find more pertinent to talk about.

Please, for the love of all I hold dear, think about what you reblog before you do so. I have found a post that could have been quite informative, but delivered the information in a way that would quite easily trigger conditions such as moral OCD and similar anxieties.

It blamed readers for "intentionally ignoring" an addition to a post that readers have "definitely saw", despite the fact that not everyone sees the same additions they do, and not everyone is even guaranteed to see any addition at all, thanks to how Tumblr works!

I am thankfully not the one in this system to get caught up in these worries, but I know people who do, and I know this would have set them off for the rest of the night...

If you do indeed believe the information is important to circulate- which it likely is!- at least tag it with something. I believe our filtered tag for this is "second person accusations", but if there is a more standard one out there, please let us know.

(Things that also easily trigger these conditions include: "if you scroll past this, you are a bad person!", "reblog if you are a good person!")

[anantaru]

Hi Yoru! I was wondering if you have any tips on growing your blog? For someone just starting out or in general?

some overall things i think are important:

— figure out what fandoms you want to write for, if you want to be a single fandom only kind of blog (like me) or a multifandom one!

— have a nice theme, make your own rules, your byi, tag system, make sure to have these out of the way first so when someone comes across your blog they can find your rules and know what you‘re comfortable with etc.

— once you got more writings, make sure to have a masterlist for people to go back to!

— tag stuff accordingly, if you write dark content, please tag it, mention it. Mention who your writing is catered to, for example: fem! reader etc. etc. + also filter things that make you uncomfortable so you don‘t get triggered.

— write for yourself and don‘t be discouraged if you aren‘t getting much interaction in the first few months of writing. You can‘t expect to post 2-3 fics and already have a steady influx on asks, for example for me personally, it took me like 1-2 months until i had a steady influx of asks coming my way. I just want to get this out there because sometimes i see writers be discouraged about that (while they’ve been on the app for less than 1 week) but sadly you can‘t expect it to happen so soon. (also i hope this doesn‘t sound like me being as asshole, but it is simply the truth.)

— don‘t look at followers, notes etc. as long as you like a fic you wrote, that‘s enough reason. If you write for validation, you do you! but don’t be surprised if you get burned out afterwards.

— tumblr doesn‘t show your followers anyways so why focus on them + even if they would, it doesn‘t mean anything!

— don‘t be jealous of other writers, this is tumblr, no one‘s better than you and you aren‘t better either! be a nice person. (also if you see a writer you don‘t like, block them and move on, don‘t subpost and be desperate, please don’t be toxic and mean, you don‘t know anyone on here irl, we all have our own dealings, we have feelings, so just be a nice person and nice things will come back to you) + the amount of people coming into my askbox showing me stuff which only made me block them too because it‘s just childish, don‘t be like that, please be nice 💗!!

— this might be a hot take ?? but mutuals are not important, follow who you like, that‘s it. Don‘t expect follows back, you can make connections with people on here without following each other. I know it can be seen quite clique?? i suppose? i personally am not really someone who likes making mutuals because i‘ve sadly had a couple of bad experiences and they have traumatized me greatly so i might come off as shy! 🫶🏻

— with that in mind, block people freely, don‘t feel bad, again you don‘t know them. The moment someone makes you feel irritated, block them! if they complain? that‘s on them, whatever! this is supposed to be your safespace so you curate it how you like!

— last but not reast, "growing your blog" shouldn‘t be something you should prioritize, ever. Again if you‘re only here for followers, okay why not?? but keep in mind you‘re going to get very burned out some day, just saying.

— have fun, seriously, this is supposed to be a nice experience, writing about your favorite characters while sharing your creativeness 💗

— writing has become a very important hobby for me and i‘m very fortunate enough to be able to use it as an additional source of income now in my real life as well, (because tumblr has helped me sharpen my writing skills) you never know what will happen, let yourself move freely and enjoy the process! 🌸

[cciieell]

That anon that was going off at you for posting about sh & your ed was so unnecessarily disrespectful & rude. I am so sorry that some people don't treat people who sh & have eds like they're also people deserving of the same dignity & respect as anyone else. If they wanted to ask you to change your tagging system they could've done that without talking down at you & attempting to shame you for having coping mechanisms & symptoms of trauma. Or they could've literally just blocked you or filtered the tags you use without talking to you at all. There was no excuse or reason to talk to you like that. Sh & eds are not weird or gross or disturbing or whatever, some people are just disgustingly ableist towards anyone who shows symptoms they personally find triggering & that's a them problem. Hope you're doing ok.

Thank you.

I really wouldn't have been so emotional about it all if they decided to be nice to me. A simple "could you censor/tag your sh/ed in the future" would've been more than fine. I understand that such topics can be sensitive even when they're not necessarily 'serious posts' or graphic. However, it is hard to respect someone who clearly does not respect me enough to show some decency.

"Mutilating yourself." "get out." No. You can find my tagging annoying, you can find my whole blog to be a mess, and that would be fine, but I am still very much a human being.

I will be better with warnings in the future. However, if you find my constant tagging of certain things annoying, blocking me might be the best solution. I will not stop doing so.

I appreciate your kindness, it is hard to know sometimes if I'm the one being dramatic, and I want nothing but to be kind to others, so it is hard when I feel i need to be rude back.

[tobiasdrake]

Okay. I have my capitalist-whomping stick and a pumpkin spice muffin manufactured by the culinary engines of capitalism. I am ready to throw down in what is literally an intellectual thunderdome.

Yeah, it is surprising that Makoto's end-goal for entering the Mystery Labyrinth is more or less just "cool battleground for our fight".

Problem is, I don't know how he's planning on getting out. The only known way to leave the Labyrinth is when Yuma solves the mystery and reaps the culprit's soul. A visitor tagging along only leaves if they're with Yuma when he does that.

Shinigami has mentioned a second way but warned repeatedly that it comes at a terrible price. Maybe you have to, like, sacrifice Yuma? Which Makoto would be fine with.

His plan is to assume the role of L after killing L, so that he can control the Kira investigation and ensure the truth is never found.

I don't disagree. That's why you should be putting your resources into helping them, rather than simply preserving them.

Like, c'mon, man. I don't trust the UG either. Those assholes want to make immortal super-soldiers out of homunculi. You did a good thing by breaking the city free from their control. I agree that if the truth about Kanai Ward were exposed to the world, you'd lose that bargaining chip.

The only thing protecting this city from exploitation and genocide is blackmail. Once that trigger's fired, it loses those protections. I get that.

How about, instead of stabbing each other, we all put down our swords and talk through ways to manage safe, ethical research into homunculus physiology using Amaterasu resources? Can we do that? Everyone?

Vivia's finally getting through to Yuma. But. Like.

I'm not one for centrism. Often times, the centrist position is simply a refusal to engage with either side of the argument.

But. Like.

There has to be a middle ground between

1 - Let's expose the truth to the world and then let UG do whatever it wants to the homunculi of Kanai Ward! 2 - Let's keep the homunculi forever imprisoned within a cage of rain, gradually dying out over decades until all that's left is the barren husk of a city and a well-populated zombie enclosure.

I don't want to fight Makoto over this. But I don't think his autocratic leadership is enough.

I mean. He's not wrong on that front. The Mystery Labyrinth is a truly awful justice system. We've been wantonly murdering people left and right, something I've never shied away from criticizing our methodology for.

But. Like.

Your morality isn't defined by what you're against. It's defined by what you're for. This is not a tug-of-war. Yuma's flaws do not make Makoto good by default. "Everybody sucks here" is a valid outcome.

If exposed externally? This city will become ripe for exploitation by UG, who would want to take control of any effort to stabilize the defective homunculi for their own immortal soldier programs. If they aren't slaughtered outright.

But that's no reason not to expose the truth internally. Kanai Ward's an isolated city-state with no contact with the outside world so there's little fear of information leaking out. And once people know, they can work together to help solve the problem. After an adjustment period of outrage and panic, of course.

Which is why they should have a voice in it. Makoto is not their voice. He's as much an outsider as Yuma. He's just the outsider who's decided he knows what's best for them.

You can push through this, Yuma. You can--

Nope, there we go. Guess we're jumping, then.

Oh hey, a Labyrinth portal. In the Labyrinth. Will we have to solve the Mystery Within a Mystery of Why Makoto's Full of Shit?

Let's see, I drew....

That's an okay hand. I'll play Margulaw first because he's good for filtering and accelerating mana....

Don't fall for the false dichotomy, Yuma. Makoto says there are only two outcomes here: Ultimate doom for Kanai Ward or keeping things as is. He would ask you to choose between them. But you don't have to play his game.

Who says those are the only options? Him? He came here to stab you. Why are we letting him define the rules?

One of whom is currently roaming the Restricted Area as a feral and the other four are "dead" with conspicuously pink homunculus bloodstains.

Makoto and Yuma have the same manners of thinking and reacting to stress. I wonder why that might be.

To be fair, that's for good reason. You're a monster who kills people.

Nice to finally get a flashback of Number One's pact with Shinigami.

Shinigami was Number One's answer to Yomi's silencing methods. Makoto and Number One weren't in cahoots. They were simply both playing long games against Yomi.

Knowing that it was Yuma who said all of this makes it hit... about the same, really.

But Number One's philosophy may be more complicated than it appears. I note that he keeps qualifying the exposing of the truth. He wants a perfect solution, not just a solution. He wants to expose the truth to make everyone happy, not just to expose the truth. By that logic, if the truth didn't help everyone then it wasn't a good enough truth, right?

Of course, he also quoted this bit again.

So, y'know, maybe he still sucks and I'm giving him too much credit. There is no "perfect solution" for Kanai Ward without empathy for the people living in the city. The WDO creed is Logic Bro propaganda.

I like Shinigami's addendum here. Everybody has their own morality; Their own interpretation of the facts. But you need to first lay out the facts before you can decide how you want to interpret them.

The acquisition of knowledge is never, in itself, wrong. One must acquire knowledge before they can decide what to do with it.

However, this does fall flat given that Shinigami's superpower is committing spirit-murder of the killer regardless of whether they were in the right or not. Historically, Shinigami has never empowered Yuma to figure out for himself whether the truth is correct. Once the truth becomes known, Shinigami always forces his hand to do one and only one thing with it. Her powers decide what we do with the information, not Yuma.

The metaphysics aren't meshing well with the message she's trying to deliver here.

[findmeinthefallair]

Ok, I was told about this.

emerald-entrails-hunter,

I'm gonna show a total of four screenshots in this post, and I don't wanna force what people think of me or twist any narratives. You readers can decide 😔 It would be good though, if readers have a look at both her post and this one that I have written. Before deciding what kind of person I am.

After the first boundary you put up in September, I still sent you an absolutely insensitive ask shortly after you ended things on Discord, and I wrote a physical letter to send to you. In both, not only I did not give a proper apology, but I violated your boundary of "Do not contact me again". In no way am I justifying what I did but, I was desperate to try and get us to reconcile, even if it was executed so poorly. And re: the matter that even led up to the end of our friendship to begin with.....I was cowardly. I am so sorry for my hurtful behaviour in that situation too. For all this, I am truly sorry. 😔

And I know that people have varying opinions about vagueposting. But like, if people see my vagueposts, wasn't that a conscious choice they made to seek out my vagueposts, policing what I put up?

Look. Even putting up this post, is terrifying to me. But to quote you, I to a degree also need to stand up for myself here, or else I'm going to spiral badly just before a vacation that's in 5 days. I am not like your abuser. It has taken me many months to even begin loving myself again after what happened. 😔

There was absolutely no way that I was going to show up outside your door at all.

I am definitely not that person. I put in my vagueposts that any reminders of rural Japan would be triggering e.g. even imagining tatami flooring in my head would make me gag, so why would I spend a huge chunk of $ to even go there now, in the first place (far more so now, since I'm in remission for cancer)? That would make me feel sicker to my stomach than the set of multiple triggers I already had. One of my posts also speaks about me cancelling a hotel booking. Which means I was NOT going to go to Japan to find you.

Proof from my email inbox:

And I would have done this much earlier. But I got diagnosed with cancer.

So, I suspect that you and your group have deliberately not factored in info like that in your callout. Because you really want to push a certain narrative here. If you have been monitoring me, you would have seen that info. But you do not appear to have incorporated said info into how you are viewing this whole thing.

This group has assumed that my motive was about inserting messages and about reaching out to connect, when instead I was just processing my feelings. Is there not a difference between those? I feel that this group has created their own definitions for things.

This group has actively chosen to peek at a blog they don't want to follow (mine), like hate-watching something to feel righteous, and then got ticked off - idk about internet culture differences, but you could have chosen not to look? Esp after I said I cancelled my hotel booking? AND even when I did not speak ill of you at all in my posts, it still wasn't good enough for your group's set of rules. This feels like any phrase I type is going to be seen by them as "*hisssssss* she broke our rules!!", so I have a very bad feeling about continuing.

Whether you believe me or not, I already felt so so awful and guilty upon sending off the letter. And, seeing your art in my suggestions sidebars was not something I sought out. I didn't want to see your art. But the previews of your art still made their way past Tumblr's blocking and filtering system, and they would trigger me. This means I would definitely, absolutely, never want to show up begging you for anything, or write you anymore letters, after the wrongdoings from last year that are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I would not dare to at all, because the guilt is still eating into me every day 😔😔😔

How ashamed do you think I feel now, now that I have learnt that what I did caused you to move apartments? And I do not want to say this in any manipulative manner at all. I say it from a place of utter sadness and shame.

And importantly, you sent me these from a new sideblog you created, back in February when you heard about my cancer:

In your callout post, you say there was absolutely no misunderstanding that went down between us. But in your February ask, you said "a grand misunderstanding".

If you've changed your mind, then ok, it's perfectly valid. But it really sounds like two completely different people who sent me this long ask in Feb, versus the callout post from 12 or so hours ago.

You said, "You don't care about how you've made me feel". But if I carry this much guilt, every single day, doesn't that mean that I care about how I have made you feel?

Or, are you wanting me to care about how you feel, in a very very specific way? I'm not you, and at this point I really don't think I can be.

You saying "this happened last flipping September" and "we only knew each other for 2-3 months tops"...means you have given my grief a timeline and deadline. I will really, really have to disagree about this. You may not understand it, but this is one area that I definitely can't change my mind about.

Grief is as unique as fingerprints are, and my grief has stretched on for 9.5 months now because the 2-3 good months we had? They mattered. They. Mattered. That. Much. To. Me. Those short months were real. It's not that I was scheming with some long-term plan, to be power-hungry or hungry for control in the friendship.

I still loved you all this time and mourned deeply, though now that you've put up that post, I'm really not so sure anymore.

You have every right to feel frustrated that I'm still mourning after almost 10 months. But if you are trying to say here that I must grieve in a way that you want, I'm very sorry but I really can't. Reading your callout post, I also do not feel like you have acknowledged the heavy guilt I have been carrying, which I am not lying about. I am acknowledging your pain, even if you cannot trust that I am, but don't see that you have acknowledged mine in the callout post.

Why couldn't you use a more balanced statement e.g. "I understand you are guilty, but your vagueposting makes me extremely paranoid and uncomfortable"?

Instead, you are saying "You don't care about how you've made me feel".

I am very very sorry, and could not be more sorry, for all the hurt I have caused you. This is the theme of the ask that I wanted to send to you this coming Monday, to that same sideblog of yours. But I won't send it anymore because you don't want that. You acknowledged in the February ask you sent, that you hurt me as well. But I fully acknowledge that I was the one started it: this is true.

In your callout post, you said "now you're trying to [break my trust] again soon?" Well, in your February ask to me, you said I could rehash what happened in September with you if I wanted. And I was prepping to do that this coming Monday, though I won't anymore.

I feel that your callout is presumptuous, filtered through your lens without checking with me first. Though at the same time: I fully understand why you wouldn't want to trust anymore, even if I'm telling the truth. I acknowledge this fully.

You have pointed out via DM that you are prone to all-or-nothing thinking and you KNOW it can be unhealthy:

And I believe this is what was in play again here, with what has happened.

I'm just. I am really, truly sorry. 😔😔😔 Now I feel that I'm gonna have to 100% block from my side as well, so that I don't start having serious symptoms, because the ring of "You have no right to X/Y/Z" in your callout post, and how you're implying to me how to navigate my grief...this has changed the impression I now have of you too, after almost 10 months 😔 So, this is goodbye.

I am truly sorry. I don't want to hide anything on here

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

Here's my conclusion:

- They filled in a massive gap with what they think my motives were, to push a particular narrative to suit a specific agenda, to make them feel a certain way that they wanted.

- E.g. being rather sure that I was gonna spend a huge chunk of $ to go and fly somewhere and, still talk to a person that I fell out with? That would be a really huge waste of $, time and sanity. But hey, they already spun a story to put out there.

- They also left this out on purpose: I spoke about the nausea I'd feel when I images of tatami flooring and anything Japan would appear in my mind. So...imagine how unpleasant it would be for me to even look at the real scenery and locations. So why would I take a huge chunk of $ out of my savings, to go somewhere and make myself feel worse than I already have felt about the imagery in my head whenever it pops up in my head? - The ask sent to me in Feb allowed me to rehash the fallout again. And when I wanna do the rehashing, I then get slammed for it. Uh? I could not read your mind that you had changed your decision: the change in decision was NOT communicated to me in private first. Then waywardsunlight, her friend and attack dog, shrieks at me asking why I put up screenshots of the February ask. If she put my username out publicly, and then demands that I don't put up that ask (which acts as proof) publicly.....what does this therefore imply? That this group doesn't want me putting out context that they wanna make sure they leave out? Feels like a double standard to me.

- Importantly, she has conveniently said "Well, how was I supposed to know all that?!?!" only AFTER she put out this story that she wanted to tell.

I am repulsed. Thank god

[bluewinnerangel]

hi, what a glorious day today, but i have a different sort of question, about tumblr etiquette. is it considered an unthinkable, absolutely out of the question thing to do to ask my ex-mutual why they unfollowed me? i'm just really curious what the reason was. i know noone owes me any explanations and i'm totally ready for any considerations, even for the most unflattering ones, i've just been racking my brain and would really like to know. do you think i can ask that person or absolutely not?

Depends on the person I'd say, but to me it's totally fine. I think on tumblr people are the most chill about it compared to other platforms, and even understand when you block (I'm still suprised I'm Not blocked by some sdkjslk). I kinda see tumblr as your own space, ur own website, with the extra functionality of being able to follow, interact, and take other peoples content to your own place, so it's like you sign up to see another person's interests, sometimes closer to a journal, and if that's not completely in line with the experience you wanna have in ur lil space it's ok to curate accordingly . For me it's maybe easy to say, because I unleash a certain energy on here that people don't always vibe with, and it can be draining to get randomly exposed to that chaos coming across your dash. I feel like I've changed a lot and am a lot chiller compared to some years ago but I know I can still be a lot on here lol. And in turn for me it drains me to see a lot of takes and discussions so people who very often answer a lot of asks or put takes in tags multiple times a day or something and I just wanna see that when I am in the mood for it, so I don't follow but go to check out their blogs when I am and we're on good terms. And I'd like for others to do the same, so then if they unfollow me I just think good for them. This can also be because of multifandom blogs that in part post a lot on stuff you're not interested in in addition to the things you are, or post relatively a lot when you're the type to follow a small number of blogs so it floods the dash too much, like there can be loads of reasons that have nothing to do with disliking you as a person. And also if it is to an extend, like if you have an opinion they disagree with, or if you said something that's triggering, or simple stuff like they follow a certain tagging/filtering system and you're not the type to tag your stuff properly (hi), I think it's good to know and you can learn and grow from that. As long as you both stay civilized I think it's no problem. And also, if you ask and that person doesn't appreciate it, it's in their right to not reply as well. So yeah I think you can.