#then it became everyone being outraged because the lovely admins that make it all possible arent being treated or paid fairly.

[codecicle]

merci pour les asks en français :] i really really need the practice LMAO moi qsmp jour des laung has been tres tres bien, even with everything else going on ^_^ merci guys <3

[ethrenisnotthehero]

@hogwartsmystory is a predator (final)

If you haven’t read the other parts of this callout, I encourage you to start here. As in both previous posts, the normal tags are not included in order to allow this to reach as many people as possible. Potential triggers are listed below, and the main content is hidden to keep sensitive individuals from being unintentionally exposed.

TW: Pedophilia, Abuse, Gaslighting, Sexual Assault, Self Harm, Suicide, NSFW Topics, Faked Illness, Faked Mental Illness, Faked Death, Victim Blaming

Originally, I intended to craft this final part to you, the reader, as an emotional appeal. To be wholly honest, there’s only so much evidence that can be utilized without either forcing Jill to relive unnecessary trauma or exposing deeply intimate or personal parts of her life. Until now, everything I’ve told you and everything I’ve shown you is what was enough to convince me when Jill first reached out to me. If you, the reader, don’t believe the factual information that’s been presented so far, then I don’t think that you will. If you, the reader, believe Jill and her story, then no further evidence is going to magically make her story more true.

However, I don’t have to. Instead, I can let the friends-- the family--that Ren created on his website speak for themselves, and show you with their own testimony just the kind of person he was. Jill wasn’t the only person that Ren hurt. Jill wasn’t even the only person Ren preyed on as a sexual predator. Many people on staff, and many people outside of it, knew Ren and grew to have what they thought was a close relationship with him. People regarded him as someone to look up to, to find comfort in, to aspire after, to lean on; people thought of him as a friend and a hero in his community.

On April 12, 2021, at 9:57 AM Greenwhich Mean Time, the current administrators of Advanced Scribes issued a statement addressing Ren’s actions and his faked death. An additional announcement was made the following day. While the announcements themselves and the replies (including moderator statements) are publicly available, I have saved a print-to-PDF versions on Google for you to browse at your leisure. 

I intentionally waited until the initial panic and outrage died out a little to let the most important statements come to light. Included in the PDF are sentiments that I personally thought were the most important sentiments; edits have been made and pages have been deleted, so you can see the current state of the conversations by visiting them directly. You can find the first discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42100#p1454263 and the second discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42107#p1454361.

Before you continue reading, please look over the statements and replies. The words of former staff former friends say more than I can ever hope to about Ren and the kind of reality that he stood for. Additionally, Jill herself has added to the conversation (username Rakuen), so you can read a bit from her perspective by looking into these announcements. After you’ve taken a look, continue below and I will sum up my final thoughts on this predator and his legacy.

Advanced Scribes • Our Statement (PDF)

Advanced Scribes • Change (PDF)

The Act of Grooming, Part 3: Entrapment

One of the reasons that predators get away with their crimes for so long is because they trap their victims. When they gain access to and successfully lure in their prey, they then engage in entrapment behavior to separate victims from other people and build reliance. The reason why kids are so prone to predation is because of how vulnerable they are. Young people just want to belong. They just want to have community, security, and affection. When they can’t get those things in their lives, they seek it out and take it where they can get it even when the situation is obviously bad. Kids can’t be held accountable for being smart because they’re kids. Jill was vulnerable. She wanted belonging and support. She fell into Ren’s lures, and he trapped her. He used his affection as a tool to solicit sexual favors and pictures from her, but never shared his face with her. She was always chasing his love, and all the while he was simultaneously preying on other individuals in the community. For God’s sake, this man had a selfie thread where underage girls would send pictures of themselves publicly on the site for him to look at, and he even intentionally disabled the website’s COPPA features.

Before Jill, there was Buttercup. Buttercup was also an admin, and she was also 13 when she met Ren. While Ren was a minor during he and Buttercup’s relationship, his behavior with her was just as predatory and Buttercup attempted to warn Jill via PM before she ended her relationship with him.

The picture he sent Buttercup wasn’t even him.

The entire time that Ren was convincing Jill that Buttercup was evil, and jealous, and a spiteful, hateful person, he was manipulating her the same way he was manipulating Jill. Ren is a predator who knows what he’s doing; he always has. He draws in his victims and makes everyone hate them so that he’s the only person they have. He makes them so desperate for his approval that they let him screw them over time and time again, and for what? Just to see his face. Think about what you read. He didn’t just do this to Jill and Buttercup. He did this to every person he cheated with or got close enough to get a grip on. Even if he didn’t sexually exploit someone, he emotionally did. An entire community of people suffered through this over and over and over again. Read the statements again. If you only read the live version, read the PDF. 

I also want you to bear in mind that everyone on staff was equally a victim as they were an enabler. It doesn’t erase their responsibility, but their roles in this story or more nuanced than “moderator bad, burn the witch!” Some of Ren’s supporters were as young or younger than Jill when they met him. The two people most notorious for standing at his side right now were both “rewarded” with a relationship with him in the fallout of his faked death.  

At some point, this man looked at his behavior and not only decided that he didn’t need to take responsibility, but that his victims daring to try and claim some kind of ownership over their own story was a personal affront to him. 

Ren is a monster of his own creation. He chose to be that monster again, and again, and again.

What makes his enablers equally to blame is when they became adults and made a conscious choice to ignore what was happening, which brings us to the next topic.

Finally... How Old Was Jill?

Despite everything I’ve said and shared so far, I still get this question in my inbox.

How old was Jill? Did she lie about her age? Is she free of guilt because she was a kid? Did he know how old she was? Was she legal in her country?

I gave you all everything I had. There were some things I just couldn’t confirm because there was no proof either way. However, all of that changed when the announcements were released. I now know exactly how old Jill was when they began dating, exactly how old she was when people knew about their relationship, and even that Ren was public with all of this information. I also know that staff knew everything, and chose to do nothing.

As you can see in the screenshots above of Buttercup’s message, it was sent on Jun 17, 2015. At that time, Jill was 14 years old. By Buttercup’s estimation, they had been dating for around a few months, which is how I was able to discern the previous exact age of 14 years old at the time they began dating.

However, Ren himself refutes that fact in a Valentine’s post for Jill. As pointed out in the “Our Statement” thread, the post that user amnesia. references includes very sexual and disgustingly graphic descriptions of Ren’s activity with her. It also says this:

As per the timestamp of this particular post (as seen below), Jill was 16 at the time. Ren, a man claiming to be twenty-five years old at the time, was proud to admit that he had been with Jill since she was 13.

You can view the full PDF of this post to see what else he said here, but please be warned that his descriptions are NSFW and absolutely disgusting. 

Warm Fuzzies Post (PDF)

No adult should talk about a kid like that. In the statements, several staff members admit that they knew that the two were dating when she was 16, and that it grossed them out. But none of them did anything. To amnesia.’s credit, they claim they tried to pursue legal action but found no viable routes. 

From the discussions and statements, we can discern five things:

1. Jill was 13 when she started dating Ren. 2. She did not lie about her age. 3. Ren did not lie about her age. 4. Ren knew how old she was. 5. Staff knew how old she was.

Jill’s feelings and her opinions on staff and their behavior are separate from my own. She does not share my beliefs here, and I need to make it very clear that what I’m saying next is entirely my own opinion.

To everyone who was staff at that time: shame on you. It’s one thing to be a victim yourself and to not understand how or when to stand up for what’s right, especially when you’re young; it’s another to become an adult and to have let something like this permeate your legacy and your community for all this time. From what I understand, none of you are completely innocent in this. Ren wasn’t secret, he was loud and proud and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Everyone who was an adult then and is an adult now shares some responsibility for that. Those of you who mean your apologies, thank you, but those of you who are using this event as a stepping stone to make that website into your own personal playground know who you are. Stop. There’s an entire generation of kids between AS and CS who have lost years of their childhoods to this shit and the only right thing at this point would be to turn the site over to the police so that Ren can answer for his crimes the right way.

To everyone else: protect the people around you. People like Ren don’t think about how other people think or feel. They don’t care who gets hurt or who they trample under their feet. Look around at your community, and ask yourself if those who interact with you know that you are safe. Inevitably, someone is going to get hurt. Are you the kind of person that they can come to when it happens, or are you the kind of person who will turn your head away? 

Be the person that everyone knows they can come to, because, eventually, someone’s going to need you.

[yandere-society]

Can i request any member of your choice being paranoid of their SO cheating on them. Whether the SO is actually cheating or not depends on you

Never Let Me Go

Admin: kimseokmomjins

Word count: 2k

Warnings: sexual dysphoria, cheating, lots of angst 

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

•·················•·················•

Monday was your favorite day of the week.

While most of society often looked forward to Fridays, you looked forward to Monday mornings: when Hoseok’s duties as rapper J-Hope mandated that he show up at BigHit promptly at 6am. Mondays meant you could finally breathe. Mondays meant that you wouldn’t see Hoseok until late Friday evening, or possibly even Saturday morning, granting you enough time to be yourself— to be your own person. Free from the burden of a relationship, free from overbearing tendencies that drove you insane, free from the lingering touches that made your skin crawl.

It wasn’t always like this, your relationship with Hoseok. You’d begun dating during your final year of high school, when his career as an idol had just begun to kick off. Soon, Bangtan Sonyeondan had become a household name, and the subsequent fame and fortune meant Hoseok was quickly able to pay off all his debts and then some. The two of you had been a couple for a little over two years at that point, and it was then that Hoseok offered to support you financially, stating that any fan could find out where you worked and harass you. His worries were valid, as his parents home was constantly swarmed with teenage fans, so you graciously accepted Hoseok’s kind offer.

But the underneath the generosity and kind-heartedness that initially appealed to you, a toxic possessiveness soon began to rear its ugly head. Not long after moving into the joint condo in the heart of Seoul, Hoseok began to dictate who you could and couldn’t interact with. Each time that you proposed hanging out with someone, Hoseok was quick to plant seeds of distrust within yourself. He argued that any new friends you made only wanted to use you for fame and fortune, or that a crazy sasaeng could try to kidnap you for ransom. Hoseok’s excuses, while initially sensible, soon became more outrageous.

Pretty soon, Hoseok wouldn’t even “allow” you to interact with any members of Bangtan, alleging that the younger members often made sexual remarks about you and that he’d worry that your loyalty would stray. At first, it upset you that Hoseok even considered that fact that you would cheat on him, but soon you found yourself loving him less and less. He was no longer your hope, your sunshine, your fun-loving Hobi. He was domineering and overbearing, both financially and emotionally.

While each passing day seemed banaler than the last, to you, Mondays were the brightest days of the week. Mondays meant that you could see her.

Much like her brother, she was an icon to many. She had the same hardworking tendencies, having created a successful clothing line from a young age. The charisma she possessed was similar as well, but unlike her brother, she was not the sun— she was the moon. Gentle and tender, like the sweet scent of camellias. She was patient, understanding, and sincerely cared for you as a Friend. A Friend, with a capital F, because that’s all she would ever see you as. You were her younger brother’s girlfriend of course. There were lines that could never be crossed.

And yet, here you found yourself: your lips slanted against Dawon’s as she cradled your cheeks as if she held the world in the palm of her hands. While Hoseok’s lips were soft and tasted like his cherry lip tint, Dawon’s were slightly chapped. But they felt— tasted— so real, so natural and gritty.  Like she was the oasis that sated your unquenchable thirst. That touchable boundary existed no longer; the taboo had been committed, and yet it felt so right.

After her braces accidentally nicked your lower lip, the two of you parted, although neither of you moved to disentangle yourselves from your embrace. The two of you giggled, not out of nervousness, but sheer giddiness. Never before had something wrong felt so damn right.

“I love you,” she murmured, and it was like the world had been tipped off its axis, like color had been returned to your monochromatic life. “You know I love you, Y/N. Please run away with me.” It wasn’t a question, nor a confession— it was a promise.

You brought your cheek to Dawon’s, pulling her closer to your heart. Could she feel how fast yours was beating?

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” she replied, her fingers lacing with yours. “I am too. But I’ll make you happy. We can be ourselves, free from judgment.” Dawon’s thumb rubbed soothing circles across yours, the intimacy comforting you instantly. You exhaled, “Ya-Yeah, let’s do it.”

Dawon grinned, her eyes cresting into two half-moons. “Meet me Sunday at 11pm outside of Seoul Station. Don’t worry about Hoseok, my brother should have afterparty interviews and a group Vlive, so you’ll be able to sneak away, okay?” You nodded before bringing your lips to hers once again, relishing in the tingling of each kiss.

You wished this moment— this regular, ordinary Monday— would never end.

•·················•·················•

It was Sunday evening. But this Sunday was unlike any other: it was the final day of the MAMAs, and Hoseok was emceeing. You reminded yourself that could do this— if you could last through the rest of the evening then you could finally be yourself with the person you loved. As for right now, all you needed to do was smile and look pretty.

You watched Hoseok’s muscles ripple as he put on his dress shirt, the crisp, white linen in stark contrast with his olive skin. The starched collar reminded you of a time when you couldn’t keep your hands off of Hoseok, and his shirt collars were constantly stained with lipstick. But now, they remained spotless.

“You know it’s funny,” Hoseok said, chuckling mirthlessly, eyes locked on his reflection in the vanity mirror. “It’s absolutely hilarious how you think I don’t notice.” You pulled your focus away from your hands and met his gaze through the mirror, feigning innocence, “What’s funny?”

“You think that I don’t know you’re cheating on me.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but a declaration. Jung Hoseok was no fool, he could tell just by the lackluster way you’d responded to his text messages, avoiding eye-contact, and your general skittish demeanor that you were harboring a secret. The final nail in the coffin was the packed duffle bag he found stashed under the bed. He had to give you props— you were gutsy to defy the man who had given you everything you could ever want or need.

Your breath hitched, “H-Hobi, why would you…” The sentence couldn’t even be finished, because you had no excuse, no defense. He had caught you red-handed.

Hoseok studied your conflicted state, his smugness mocking you in the form of a smirk. “Got anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” You dropped your eyes in shame, words seemingly escaping you. Hoseok straightened his back as he fastened his bowtie, examining himself with an intensity that had you nearly cowering in fear. “Well?” He turned towards you, and the coolness his demeanor radiated caused you to flinch. “I’m- I’m sorry, Hoseok.” He made a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, “I’m sure you are.”

“I mean it,” you continued, hot, fat tears streaming down your face, ruining your makeup. “I couldn’t stop it.” Hoseok cooed at your distraught appearance, swiping his knuckles across your cheekbones, effectively catching your mascara-stained tears in the process. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I know you didn’t mean to.” Once your cries had subsided into faint hiccups, he pulled away, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket before smiling his brilliant toothy smile— the same smile that you loved so much on Dawon.

“Well, how about we put this all behind us, okay babe? Let’s not let this sour such an important evening.” The subtle implication of his words completely evaded you, assuming he was taking his debut as an emcee. Hoseok simply offered you his arm, which you accepted reluctantly, unaware of the velveteen box stashed inside his pants pocket. The shackle that would keep you bound to him as a prisoner.

•·················•·················•

A sea of bright lights surrounded the stage as all the participating idols gathered together for the closing ceremony of the awards show. Hoseok and his co-host stood before the crowd, wishing the audience a happy New Year.

“Ah, there’s one more announcement I’d like to make,” Hoseok said, bowing politely at a nearby camera. The lights on the stage dimmed, with only a sole spotlight illuminating Hoseok. He scanned the audience, focusing his attention in your general direction, as your private table was far from the stage. Hoseok cleared his throat, “Y/N, the beautiful, sweet, love of my life.” His words triggered a cacophony of ‘aww’ from the audience, with a few idols on stage playfully clutching their hearts in mock pain.

“I’m so happy to have found such a wonderful woman to stand by my side for the last five years. You’ve been nothing but supportive and loyal through it all.” Despite Hoseok’s words sounding romantic superficially, to you, they carried a heavy insinuation. “I couldn’t think of a better woman to spend the rest of my life with,” he continued as he crouched down on one knee. “I want everyone to know how much you mean to me, so will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Suddenly, a blinding light burned your retinas as countless sets of eyes stared at you expectantly. Dozens of cameras from different television companies and streaming services focused on you, televising Hoseok’s proposal to nearly all of Korea. Millions were watching in rapt attention as they awaited your decision— a decision that had already been decided for you the moment Hoseok got down on one knee. There was no chance of you rejecting such a public proposal, not after he had poured his heart and soul into such a passionate display of affection. No, Hoseok knew you wouldn’t dare reject a proposal from Korea’s Sunshine J-Hope. Not only would fans be furious at you, but BTS’s reputation would suffer as well. You both knew the only proper response was a yes.

You should be happy: you were experiencing what any ARMY could ever hope and dream of. But instead of happiness, you only felt dread weighing in your gut like lead. You didn’t want a life with Hoseok, not anymore. You wanted lazy Sundays in bed with Dawon, you wanted to run your fingers through her hair as you wove it into plaits. You wanted normalcy, you wanted love.

But you were a coward; so you tearfully accepted Hoseok’s proposal as you silently bid goodbye to love you so desperately craved. As you walked down the aisle towards the stage, you fruitlessly tried to quell the thunderous beating of your heart. All you could think about was Dawon and how you had promised to meet her. Where was she? Was she at home, packing her stuff? Or was she already at the station waiting for you to arrive? Maybe she was eating ramen at her favorite late-night restaurant, and maybe— just maybe— she picked up a to-go container of your favorite as well.

Either way, you knew Dawon would be incredibly hurt. And it was all your fault.

You reached the stage, Hoseok pulling you into a tight embrace before twirling you around wildly. His group mates tearfully watched on as he slid the engagement ring onto your finger, proud that their brother had matured enough to ask for your hand. Hoseok leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I hope those are tears of happiness babe,” he whispered before planting a kiss on the apple of your cheek. You looked down at your ringed hand in embarrassment— or maybe it was self-loathing— and gazed at the spaces in between your fingers.

You wished you had never let her go.

•·················•·················•

And somewhere in Seoul, sat Jung Dawon, alone in a train station. Her tears dotted the phone screen, the live stream confirming the MAMA attendees were celebrating your engagement with pomp and circumstance. Dawon looked at the spaces between her fingers, remembering the ghost of your hand as it rested in hers. She waved the memory away as she tucked her head in her hands and cried. She cried for herself, she cried for you, but most importantly, she cried because she wished she had never let you go.

((A/N: Happy pride month everyone! I know this may not have been exactly what was requested, but I wanted to take some artistic liberties and represent bisexual/queer women in fanfiction, because I feel like they’re often misrepresented. Have a lovely June, everyone!))

[bi-apps]

Accepted - Emmeline Vance

phaedrx

submitted:

APPLICATIONS

Regular Application

OOC Information:

Name/Age/Timezone-Mai/18/CET

Activity Level- 6

Ships/Anti-Ships- It really depends on the character and the player’s interpretation but in principle I’m fine with everything thrown my way.

Did you read the rules? Yes

IC Information:

Character Name- Emmeline Vance

Age/Birthdate- 18 , 16/4

Faceclaim- Saoirse Ronan, Luca Hollestelle ,Zoey Deutch,

Occupation- cursebreaker

Blood Status-muggleborn

Traits- +lust for life +intatiable curiosity  +fiercely kind -reckless -hot-tempered -indignant

Patronus-  the hummingbird

The hummingbird is a very carefree patronus, and shows a free spirit. These are those who want to enjoy every aspect of life and embrace it to it’s full potential. They are social, but they also need an amount of time alone to try and find their own path. They are sensitive and influenced easily by what others say about them. They try to act as though they are independent, but they take every compliment and insult they recieve with extreme consideration. They want to please everyone.

Boggart - What Emmeline thinks her boggart is : seeing her best friends die on the battlefield. She knows that it’s a possibility, that they risk their lives just as much as she does, but she simply isn’t ready to even think of the possibility of grieving one of them. They’ve become her family, even more than her parents : they were the ones who have shared her life, lived with her, for seven years at Hogwarts and ever since.

What her boggart really is :being unable to speak - Emmeline needs to express herself, when she discovers something she needs to say it to the world, needs her voice to be heard, and most importantly, needs to scream when something is wrong, and her biggest fear is  not being able to do any of that. Her boggart would take the form of someone robbing her of her voice, reaching into her throat to take it as she is unable to scream.

Key Points

Finding out she was a witch was never a surprise, but a confirmation of what she already knew. Emmeline, quite simply, had refused to believe that magic wasn’t real, despite all her parents tried to tell her. Her favourite pastime was hounding the library for every she could find about myths, legends and everything mysterious, or writing her own theories about it. Her parents, too , had noticed that strange things tended to happen around her, but they simply put it down to her being an eccentric child and trying to see that magic in everything. When she first got her letter from Hogwarts, they thought that she’d fabricated it - they held on for that belief surprisingly long, but when an adult neither of them knew came and told them in no certain terms that their daughter was a witch, they finally had to accept the truth. A few months later, they were dropping her off at King’s cross, worried but happy for their daughter, who looked like she was having the best day of her life. They always knew that she had a bright future ahead of them - it was clear that she was a clever child and that she would grow into a brilliant young girl, and they hoped that this new world would be able to provide her with the opportunities that they wouldn’t be able to give her.

Hogwarts wasn’t like she expected, probably because she expected many different things at once. For one, there weren’t magical creatures flying around the ceiling, and overall, it looked oddly like a normal school-they were sorted into houses, they had class schedules and they wore uniforms… maybe she had imagined a thousand exuberant things, but the fact that it looked somewhat familiar was actually reassuring. At least she knew where to stand, how to act. Still, there were some oddities - secret passageways she would stumble upon when wandering around the halls (and yes, looking for them, once she figured out that they were several to be found around the castle), ghosts flying around, and of course, that time she tried to swim in the great lake and found out that there was a giant squid in there with her. Those were what persuaded her to pick up Hogwarts, A History, which remained during the rest of her years at Hogwarts her most prized book.

Emmeline’s endless excitement and drive to discover the magical world was not deterred by purists sentiments. She tried not to let it get to her - if those people didn’t like her then she would simply avoid them, it was their loss. Still, there was a certain sense of not being fully accepted into this world, of not belonging, and no matter how much she tried to dispute it, it lingered on. The only thing she could do was learn to live with it, to assert her place even when she felt like she didn’t have one. At first, that was the extent to which pureblood supremacy bothered her :Emmeline took far too long to realise that they were actually in danger, that she might be in danger. However, she was never afraid. It only made her angry, outraged  in fact. She had magical blood in her veins, that meant she had a rightful place in this world and she would take that place, she would fight for it and against the fact that they could ever make her feel like she didn’t belong there.

Joining the Order had been an easy choice once someone approached her. Maybe too easy - Emmeline, in her will to fight, never stopped to consider the danger she was putting herself in. Now that people were being murdered in her own city, right in front of her eyes, she could feel it, and Emmeline couldn’t help not feeling as brave as she’d liked to be. All she wanted was to live in this world, and she should never have to fight, to risk her life for it. Eventually, she understood that she wasn’t fighting for her. Maybe she would see a better world in her lifetime, but maybe she’d die trying. And maybe that broke her heart because she had to give up on herself - and on her friends, who were all soldiers, who might all die just as her. They were a doomed generation, she eventually had to make her peace with that, and she now fought for those who came next, to make sure that the next generation of muggleborn would never have to face the same pains as her.

Changes/Extra Info- Connection changes have to be approved by current players. All changes are up to admin approval.

Para Sample- Show us your best work and don’t be afraid to ask for some prompts if you need help!

Emmeline had been staring at her parchment for a long time- far too long, when she finally sighed and gave up for the day. She would make herself tea, maybe read a little, try to forget about all of this for a moment, and she’d start again tomorrow.

She got up, cleaned her quill and folded back her parchment, when she noticed someone casting her an odd look - she must look quite odd, she realized, arranging her stationary to write, only to stare at her empty parchment for an hour and put it all away without having touched her quill.

“ I’m trying to write to my parents, "she explained. "Trying being the key word here - I usually have quite a way with words,I assure you. Only I don’t want to worry them , and  it’s very hard to be honest with them without worrying them. One might even say impossible. ” She sighed again : her parents were a hard subject for her lately, and a cause for more or less constant worry.  She loved them, and they loved her, that wasn’t the question. But her parents were worried, had been ever since they dropped her off between the stations nine and ten for the first time, in fact since she got her first letter. And now, they were more worried than ever :they knew that there was danger in wizarding society for muggleborns nowadays, she had told them so, distraught, after it became clear that there were people, many of them, who wanted her and people like her dead. With hindsight she wished she hadn’t, and she hasn’t made the same mistake again :hasn’t told them about the war yet, let alone about fighting in it. They wouldn’t take it well, and they would only ask for something she could never do. They’d ask her to leave, and when she’d have to tell them she wouldn’t, she didn’t know what they would do. And they wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t - they didn’t know the wizarding world, they didn’t know about runes or cursebreaking or all those fascinating things she was too passionate about to live without. They didn’t know the people she was risking her life for.

“Do you want some tea? I’m making some for myself,"she suggested, already moving towards the kitchen. If she couldn’t write to her parents, at least she could drink tea with her friend, sharing her love in the way she knew how right now. She’d figure out what to do, eventually - maybe she ought to go see them in person in fact, if London could spare her.

[ghosteddie]

The stuff you've posted about abuse has really helped me, do you mind talking about what happened?

Yeah so hello readmore. As you seem to already know, my inbox is open if you need anything else. I use the IM thing too.

I’m glad that my stuff is helping you, I won’t share everything but I’ll explain some of the different stuff I’ve endured. I know I felt like I was somehow alone and living the same life as everyone else at the time, like it was normal and nobody would understand. So I understand why you’d ask this.

We’ll start with childhood. The basic building blocks of how I lived as a kid are:

My mom would spoil my brother while degrading me for existing. He was perfect but I could never do anything right. I always feel like maybe I made this up, like it wasn’t that bad, but I vividly remember instances like standing in the middle of the store and asking for a t-shirt, getting a no, then watching her say yes to my brother for the same t-shirt. She ponied up a shit ton of dough to get him into football and soccer, but she wouldn’t let me go to my choir concerts even though it was REQUIRED for a grade in my class and took me out of soccer the second I got scouted for an advanced league. I wasn’t allowed to be good at anything and I wasn’t allowed to have nice things.

If I tried to figure myself out and express my identity, I was punished. A friend painted my nails at lunch at school one day in middle school, it was a pale color, you could barely see it. Another parent had bought it for their child, so I can’t imagine it was like Harlet Brand. There was nothing wrong with it, but when I came home she emptied out a bottle of nail polish remover and made me sit still as a statue and hit me if I moved. I had to sit there for almost a full 24 hours without peeing or eating or drinking water, I wasn’t allowed to move until the nail polish ate itself in the remover. I wasn’t even allowed to rub my fingers over the polish. I was always put in adult size XXXXL, t-shirts were three quarter length sleeved and went to my knees. If I didn’t disappear in it and it didn’t look like I was just a pile of clothes, it was too small. My friends would buy me things for my birthday out of pity but my mom always took everything away immediately, their mothers felt so bad and I never knew what to do about it. She didn’t even throw this stuff that I wasn’t allowed to have away or donate it; she reveled in keeping it in her room like a trophy. She liked me being able to see that the stuff that I wanted was still there but I couldn’t have it.

She shaved my head at every opportunity.

She beat me for just about every reason I can imagine that she could think of. My brother pissed her off? Beat me. She had a bad day at work? Beat me. I didn’t do enough for her? Beat me. I literally broke bones. I have scars to this day.

She used me as a slave. Even back as far as I can remember in like elementary school, I was the one in charge of cooking for everyone, I was in charge of cleaning up after everyone, and I did all of the laundry. There was not a chore that was not my responsibility.

She liked to tell me that I was going to grow up to be as big as her. That I would be as ugly as her. That I would be her. She’d tell me my life was worthless, that she brought me into this world and she could take me out of it. She’d tell me that I couldn’t do anything. I’ve always loved to sing, but if she ever heard a peep she would always berate me for it. She’d tell me I was terrible and a bother for having an interest. That I shouldn’t even be seen, let alone heard. My brother would join in on this. They’d laugh.

Nothing was ever allowed to be wrong with me either, which really fucks me up. I fell down the stairs and twisted my knee so hard it was purple and she told me to walk it off, then laughed and called me a sissy lala when I cried because it hurt. I broke my funny bone on her work property and the only reason we even know that is because even though she was laughing at my bleeding nose, chipped tooth, and steadily growing arm that was changing green and blue and purple and calling me a pansy for saying it hurt, her boss INSISTED she take me to the hospital.

She ripped my cast off by force less than a week later. Said I’d only use it for pity and I didn’t need it anyway.

The next step from there was total neglect. There’s a big story for me going to the children’s shelter, but she basically was just like whatever I don’t want him and then proceeded to not give a shit about trying to see me. She basically just washed her hands of me.

In my later teen years, after I’d been in the foster care system and started taking care of myself, she ended up back in my life. Things are going fuzzy, I don’t remember how. But, at this time:

She no longer beat me. In fact, she acted like it never happened and just didn’t acknowledge it at all. I think that is the most terrifying thing she’s ever done.

She would tell me a sob story about how her landlord was coming for x, y, or z and then ask me if I could come over to help her clean up. She’d tell me that her landlord would kick her out if they saw how much of a mess her house was and she’d say she had no idea what else to do. I would spend a whole week straight cleaning her house. She wouldn’t help at all.

But she would laugh at me in front of my friends. She’d offer to take us out to dinner and then tell stories about what a pathetic little sniveling child I was.

When a boyfriend cheated on me and tried to throw me down her stairs and started ripping the gutters off her home, she looked at me bleeding and sobbing on the floor and said I’d let go of the best thing that had ever happened to me. That nobody else would love me and whatever he had done couldn’t possibly be bad enough to warrant robbing HER of time with him.

Then there’s the monster ex:

I always want to say that things started out slow and escalated, but that’s a lie. The first thing he did that was abusive was manipulating me into thinking his ex was the devil. He had me thinking this girl was making him want to kill himself, and he constantly sent me after he like an attack dog. I know that she wasn’t doing anything wrong because I do eventually simmer down and try to talk things out and all it took was a few simple screencaps to show the monster ex was a damned liar. He admitted it too when called out and we eventually became friends? Like it was the weirdest mindfuck he’s ever pulled. He tried to make his ex kill herself, then sent me to make her want to kill herself, and then we were friends. I even woke up from a drunk night wearing HER pants once. I drew abs on the woman. I think this is why he has yet to actually send anyone my way to bitch me out. He always has people yell at people, but not me. Not once. Because he learned that sending people to yell at someone for something that never happened ALWAYS backfires.

The first err against me was after we’d moved in together. We were really happy, and I know he likes to play like he was never happy now that all is said and done, but that’s just more abuse. It’s his way of erasing his blame and making it look like he is some Super Pathetic Victim. He cheated. And he lied. To someone his ex knew too, more than once. It was a whole thing. Like he was laughing to my face and we were cuddling and I tied him to the heater and fucked him silly, but he still needed to have some pity to feed off of, so he made up some stuff. Which he admitted. But then kept doing. She kept falling for it. He would say stuff like he was going to steal my wallet in the middle of the night and run off to be Hummelberry in NY. I don’t even think he was really cheating because he liked the girl or because he wanted to cheat, he just wanted her to pity him to The Highest Extent.

Even just this far, there is obviously only one reason a person would stay with a person like that. And that reason is abuse. It’s fucking powerful.

He would ride my coattails whenever I’d do something online, and if people paid attention to me he had to push in too. He loved it when people loved us. Then he would start contolling the things I did. I cannot tell you how many times I admined a group and had to watch as he abused people in the group. He was so terrible. But I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t stop him.

And he’d control who I could talk to, who I could write with in groups. He liked to ship wreck my ships. He’d already have like 5 ships with me and then he’d decide to make a 6th character and his FIRST move was always finding one of my character’s to ruin. He literally brought his abuse into character. He abused one of my rp characters in the same way he abuses me and the ENTIRE rp was SO uncomfortable.

It wasn’t until I started telling him to stop treating me like shit that things got really heated up. I never understood it and it drove me insane at the time, but he would abuse me and I would say he was abusing me and he would nod his head and tell me he understood. We’d have a heart to heart convo about how he was hurting me and how he could avoid doing that in the future. I’d ask him to remember to consider me as a human being all the time, he always forgot I wasn’t just a stepping stool. But we’d get to a good place and I’d think he understood. He would have expressed his heartfelt desire to do better and be a better person— but then he would go online and throw pity parties about how terrible I was.

He had a huge love of gaslighting or making shit up. He would post about me on his blog to get attention all the time, and talk to his friends about me. Just lie, right through his teeth. Nothing was too outrageous for him to go for. He had to villify me, and as far as I’m concerned that’s abuse too. It’s practically cyberbullying when it’s done in a tightknit community. He’s sent me anon hate, he’s sent my friends anon hate, and he’s sent anon hate to other blogs about me. He’s also signed hate to other blogs about me, even after I finally got him out of my life. He can’t breathe without using lies about me to host a pity party. That feels like abuse to me. His lies weren’t ever even all that good. He’d be as bad as to say “I want you all to give me money so I can spend it on me” and then say “I wanted to give HIM that money, not me! I’m a saint!” Like…. the original post is right there with the words “for myself” written right on it but okay?

My mind is really going fuzzy now, so I’ll leave a really short list that will cover like 1/1000th of his daily abuse. Some of the every day things included:

Making me out to be the bad guy if I ever asked for anything

Guilting me for telling him when he did things that hurt me

Telling me things like that I wasn’t worth being treated with common decency, right to my face, just because he was mad. 

He pushed and pulled with his attention and affection a lot. He was always very manipulative in the way that he would pay attention or talk to me and be super sweet and then flip it when he got what he wanted. 

He was also very manipulative in the way he would be sweet to me and then shit talk me behind my back. Kind of like how he we romantic with me while cheating behind my back. I’m poly. Bro. Literally all you had to do was respect me as the person you’re already dating and a s k.

Signing into my messengers, reading my private stuff, especially after we fought, so that he could see what I was saying to my friends. If I ever dared to ask for help from someone, or said a word about him that wasn’t sparkling, he would immediately start another fight. 

Calling me fat - I will never forget this. I literally said, “If I were this big, I would jump off the roof and kill myself, I 100% cannot handle that I am freaking out” and he replied, “Well, you’re that big.” I’ve had serious eating disorders since childhood, fucking asshole. I don’t care what excuse a person can come up with, there is none for that. Even if your worst enemy says, “I’ll kill myself if ___” you do NOT reply with, “well, ____” unless you’re ABSOLUTE garbage. He tries to claim that he was only with me because he thought I’d kill myself if he left, that making shit up is another abuse thing, but if he gave a shit about my mental health or if I killed myself…. why the fuck did he tell me I was fat right after I specifically said I would kill myself if I was fat??????? And he knows I’m not lying. It wasn’t a funny haha I’d kill myself lol xD xD like his are. He knows I only say that shit when it is  r e a l.

Admittedly taking his anger out on me, yelling at me just because someone else made him mad

He would constantly tell me that my style was wrong, or that the clothes I was wearing made me look too girly. He was always telling me that I needed to be different, downing on me until I felt bad and had to second guess everything. I never really cared how people saw me until he started making me feel like every time someone looks at me, all they see is a girl. He pushed that transphobic, sexist, YOU HAVE TO LOOK LIKE A MAN TO BE A MAN bullshit on me all of the time.

Telling me all of my interests were stupid

Acting out whenever he had to do something. Like we were moving out of Arizona and packing things up into the Uhaul, we were almost done, we just had the Christmas stuff. We were moving on and off too, really lazy, but we did also do everything at once. So he starts whipping me with words as fast as he can, trying to get me to just shut down because he’s attacking me. It doesn’t work, I ask him to get the xmas stuff in location a while I go to location b and get shit done and I shit you not, Miller-opher Kingle, Mr. I Listen To My Thousand Song Christmas Playlist All Year Round himself screams out, “I DON’T EVEN LIKE CHRISTMAS!!!!” in his attempt to get me to give into him.

Complaining whenever I wanted to talk about my interests or indulge in my interests

While also shoving every fart he made under my nose and demanding validation

Forcing me to watch stuff he was interested in and even picking fights if I said no but always acting like I wanted him to rip off an arm if I wanted to pick something. 

Invading my private space. He was fucking obsessed with climbing into my bed and it was the creepiest and most terrifying thing in the world. Nobody wants to share a bed with their abuser, and nobody should have to deal with their abuser clinging to their arm like a tumor. Nobody should be forced to allow themselves to be used to up their abuser’s state of being. 

LOUD ASS FUCK SKYPE CALLS WHILE I AM ASLEEP but oh, better yell at me because I wanted to listen to music while he was awake and he’s just too lazy to put the headphones from his neck to his ears so he can block me out

Refusing to clean, making me do it, yelling at me whenever I asked him to help out even a little

Refusing to cook, he would rather starve if I didn’t always cook for him

Refusing to work, especially when we were freelance writing. I’d give him like 500 words total and then take one 50,000 words myself and STILL have to do half of his when I finished mine

Using all of my shit, even when I told him not to, even when he said he wouldn’t. It feels like abuse because it’s like pissing all over my stuff, taking my stuff. A lot of my costume makeup he completely used.

The biggest thing though was that if I couldn’t give him something useful, I was useless. If I wasn’t blowing compliments up his ass 24/7, I was useless. If I wasn’t cooking and cleaning up after him, I was useless. If I wasn’t praising him and showering him in attention, I was useless. If I wasn’t being whored out to the internet to draw in more people to adore him, I was useless. If I was telling him he had to change, that he couldn’t keep abusing me, I was useless. What I wanted never mattered. If we got two bags of chips, he got one and three fourths and I got one fourth. If we got two things and promised to share 50/50, he’d still manipulate me into getting at LEAST half of my half. I could never just have an equal amount of anything. We’d go out and take 100 pics of him and 0 of me. Even when we went to Lady Gaga and I was DRESSED like Lady Gaga herself and I was stopped by fellow fans for pics with strangers, the one event that was quite literally The Me Event, and we got ZERO photos of me. that even after I spent six hours pouring myself into a skimpy ass costume that I made myself, and even after we drove hours and hours to get to the concert, even with it being my birthday present, zero photos of me. I’m the only person at that event that did not go home with a dozen and a half photos of me, I shit you not. What does it say that we BOTH valued me so little? If you feel what I just described in any way, you’re probably being abused.