#we find those reasons to be wrong and the actions unacceptable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darktreeroots · 1 year

Text

Moonstar's Resolve

8.0k

Important characters will be revealed as you read.

Moonswallow is wrong. There is something wrong with her and she doesn’t know how to fix it. She has her father’s eyes and her father’s strength and her father’s red-hot blood. When she attacks she doesn’t do so with grace, just raw power. Her mother turns up her noise at her, her father has long grown disinterested with the novelty.

She pretends that none of it matters to her, she presses her eyes closer to her head, stands up taller, uses spare stones to sharpen her nail until any BroadleafClan cat that dares cross their border doesn’t have a chance to scream out to StarClan. They like her more anyhow, she hears them whisper in her ears as she lays out in the long grasses alone.

Moonswallow opens her eyes and sees that moonhigh is on its way. She knows that she’ll be torn apart a hundred times over for coming home too late but it’s not as if she’s coming home empty-handed. She has three rabbits to show for her efforts, and a squirrel that she’ll dig up tomorrow. It’s a good assurance if she doesn’t find something tomorrow. She picks up the rabbits by their ears, lifting them just high enough that they don’t drag against the ground as she makes it back to camp.

She doesn’t come across anyone in the grass, and if any cat had decided to chose it over the dens back at camp then she didn’t see them.

Moonswallow strolls into camp, rabbits aloft. She tries to keep quiet at first but a quick glance to the surrounding dens makes it clear that no one is awake any longer.

“It’s almost moonhigh.” Except for Whitebreeze, of course. The elder looks out at her with undisguised disdain with blue eyes so light they were nearly hidden in his white pelt. Moonswallow just bares her teeth around the rabbit ears and walks off to place the rabbits on the fresh kill pile. It’s rather skimpy at the moment so she knows that Needlestar won’t have a reason to complain about her coming back so late come morning.

Unlike Whitebreeze who was hurried coming out of the woven grass den, a thunderous expression on his face before he slammed his face into Moonswallow’s fur, breathing in deep.

“Stop that.” Moonswallow hisses, barely repressing the urge to claw her father, “Whatever you think I’m doing out there, it’s the same thing that everyone else is doing while they’re outside at night. When is the last time that you even saw Nightspark?”

“Nightspark is none of your concern.” Moonswallow swallows back her retort, but just barely. She longs to dig her claws into Whitebreeze’s neck and cast him away but doing that would be unacceptable. No cat was allowed to throw their clanmates, even if said clanmate was their horrible horrible father.

It would probably break a few bones.

Moonswallow swallows hard and digs her paws into the ground, trying to remind herself that the thought shouldn’t be so alluring.

“Are you done? Found no BroadleafClan scent on me?” She hisses as Whitebreeze finally steps away, looking unsatisfied, “As if I would ever fall for one of those forest dwellers?”

Whitebreeze’s nose twitches.

“Don’t be so sure about that.” He snaps at her. She rolls her eyes and turns her back on him, “And don’t forget that there are other things out there. That fox killed Dropstalk yesterday, we were able to confirm it this afternoon. His…remains were far out, closer to BroadleafClan’s Queen’s Edge than our own land.

That would be the twelve cat that the fox has killed: Mintbelly, Rabbitpaw, Haredash, Tumblewhisker, Sunnyspots, Clearpaw, Perchpaw, Sandyface, Sleekheart, Yellowtail, Ashpaw, and now Dropstalk. She would miss them all truly but—

“You think I need to be warned? The fox only attacks at night, and then only sleeping cats. It won’t ever catch me unaware.” Moonswallow flexes her muscles and puffs out her fur, the action taking her from one of the largest in the camp to the largest without doubt. The only cat would could possibly match her side was Longwillow who was far more fur than cat, “Watch out for yourself.” Moonswallow hisses.

“Mintbelly died during the day, I’ll have you know.” He lets out an irritated hiss, “So ungrateful—you’d die without a vigil.” Whitebreeze snarls at her retreating back as she enters the medicine den, “You should learn to keep some of your thoughts to yourself.”

Oh I am. Moonswallow thinks as she settles down and casts her tail over her eyes, effectively ending their conversation, If I wasn’t, then I would have told you that I wished the fox got you next.

“Moonswallow? Moooooonnnnswaaaaa—” Moonswallow hits Honeypaw with a well-aimed swat.

“Oh I’m sorry. You surprised me. I didn’t mean to hit you.” Moonswallow says as she fakes a yawn, “You shouldn’t be that close to me when I wake up or else I might do it again.”

“Sorry Moonswallow…” Honeypaw apologizes, huge green eyes watery, “But Needlestar wanted me to find you.” Moonswallow just manages to swallow her huge sigh as she starts to get to her feet.

“You go first. I’ll be right behind you.” Moonswallow nudges Honeypaw out of the warriors den before taking a moment to stretch out her limbs. There’s only a few cats in the den right now, but their scents tell her that they’ve already been out and have come back for a quick nap.

Isn’t it too early for a nap? Moonswallow trudges after Honeypaw as the morning sun hangs overhead. It isn’t sunhigh yet and won’t be for a little while—so for Moonswallow who went to sleep after moonhigh she’s barely conscious much less willing to deal with whatever Needlestar wants from her this time.

“Needlestar! I brought her!” Honeypaw calls out as she trods towards the small hole in the back of camp, an indent first found there by ancient HillClan and then expanded until it was a den big enough for a few cats to come in and have a meeting. Though today, their size was only two because Honeypaw quickly retreated after a tail flick from Needlestar, pushing back the grass barrier before leading them alone.

“So I’ve heard that you were out late last night.”

“Have you also heard of the three rabbits I brought?” Or did you think that StarClan itself had sent them flying along an errant breeze?

Needlestar gives her a level look with golden eyes, even though she tried so hard to keep her tone respectful, “You shouldn’t come back to camp so late.”

“You’re sound like Whitebreeze.” Moonswallow replies, “And have you seen Nightspark either? Because if you haven’t, then I’m going to begin worrying.”

“She’s on a border patrol.” Needlestar says, looking irritated but it’s not directed at her. Moonswallow doesn’t show how pleased she is on her face—Whitebreeze can only dig himself in deeper and deeper holes. It’s better not to listen to him and gives his words as much weight as a seed carried by the wind. Listening to him and his opinions is what made her life so skyless after Rainpaw died.

Needlestar falls into the same trap over and over again. It’s really pathetic.

“Well, you should know better.” Needlestar blusters, puffing out his fur. Moonswallow doesn’t roll her eyes, but just barely. This was also one of the worst parts of Needlestar—he never made mistakes cats just did things that caught him off guard and his reactions were never his fault, “And I want to send you on this afternoon’s border patrol.”

“Border patrol? With who?” Moonswallow says calmly through gritted teeth after a long inhale.

“I’ll leave that up to Burrpelt but—don’t make that face at me, Moonswallow. I can see it just fine. Have faith in Burrpelt, he is your deputy after all.”

The last time Burrpelt assigned me on patrol I was nearly abandoned for a hawk to take—and that was only a moon ago! Moonswallow holds her response if only because she knows that Needlestar already knows. That was the first thing she told him after the latest attempt on her life by her own clanmates. It’s gone beyond irritating and beyond emotion.

It’s like second nature for everyone involved—Burrpelt stupidly sends her out on a border patrol, her clanmates are so lost in the past that they ignore larger dangers and turn on her, a nearby predator takes note, and then her clanmates abandon her to the beast. Then she either just runs or takes a few swings at it to deter it and then runs all the way home to tell Needlestar and he then ignores the attempted murder.

It would be comically if it weren’t her life in the balance. StarClan’s sake, Rainpaw would have been the type of cat to laugh in their faces after it was all done.

But she was not Rainpaw. Moonswallow turns with a sneer and leaves the den. She doesn’t stop for a moment before she digs her face into the fresh-kill pile and grabs one of the her rabbits before stalking off to the corner of camp nearest the apprentice den. It was the part of their territory that she was safest, other than the lands near MountainClan territory.

The apprentices knew less. They knew less of Moonswallow and Whitebreeze and Nightspark and Rainpaw and Rainbright. The younger ones wouldn’t even recognize their names, the older ones have been around her long enough to know that she isn’t like the stories the elders used to tell.

She wishes that she found this place earlier. She wishes that her father retired earlier, she wishes that she was able to put up with the cruel stories and sharp glares of the elders for less time.

Sometimes, she even wishes that Rainpaw and Whitebreeze and Rainbright never existed.

She knows that means nothingness for her as well, a death without life.

Moonswallow is unwilling to accept that. She wants to exist without them. Not not exist at all.

“Moonswallow!” Honeypaw calls out, prancing over with Gorsepaw—the apprentice of her kin—and Sunpaw right on their heels, “Can I have some?”

“Of course.” Moonswallow purrs, leaving some space for the smaller cats and ignoring all of the angry stares she gets for daring to be close to children.

There is a fox on CloudClan territory that lusts for cat blood. It attacks quickly in the dead of night and brutalizes any cat that happens to find itself under its blunt claws and large teeth. The threat of the fox circles over every cat, but they all pretend it doesn’t. They all pretend that their traditions can survive like this, they all pretend that they can still sleep in the fields and listen to StarClan from afar instead of being sent there directly.

They all pretend that it is through StarClan’s power that they are able to continue on, as if the event doesn’t prove that StarClan’s power is lacking.

If I die here, then all my faith has been for naught. Moonswallow thinks to herself as her head perks up, ears closing to whatever years-belated argument Fognight and Slipwhistle were having with her as she picks up the scent of fox on the breeze.

It’s faint, very faint but as Moonswallow turns in that direction she sees that the fox is there, only a few fox-lengths away. Hunting them.

Hunting her.

“Run.” Moonswallow whispers, backing up slowly as she watches the fox. Slowly, the rest of the patrol comes to stare at it, freezing one by one as the fox moves closer. It’s clearly their fox, no other fox would have those many scratches and ever dare to mess with a cat ever again. She can see the hunger in each eyes, to it it’s always triumphant.

“Run home!” Coppergale calls out but Moonswallow doesn’t have the time to correct the younger cat before he turns tail and runs, with Hopmist and the rest of the patrol not far behind. Moonswallow curses under her breath and unsheathes her claws.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see Hopmist hesitate for a split second. Moonswallow doesn’t keep him waiting, quickly lashing at empty air for a moment before turning tail and fleeing, hoping that was enough to deter the fox—after all, didn’t it only attack at night? She didn’t need to see Hopmist’s eyes widening to know that it didn’t work, she can hear the fox on her tail.

It’s panting with excitement, nearly cackling behind her.

She curses the soft dirt under her feet, the kind that allowed BroadleafClan’s forest to flourish but was now sticking to her feet, flying out behind her in some clumps. The only good part about is that they seemed to be hitting the fox, when Moonswallow glances behind her the fox has a few clumps of dirt on its fur. It looks no less eager for the chance, however.

“Don’t run back to camp!” Moonswallow screeches as she catches up with her Clanmates with her long strides, “It’ll just follow us back!” Coppergale looks horrified, clearly not having considered that the camp was only a fortress against other Clans.

“Then what?” Hopmist asks, swiftly leaping over a log. Moonswallow is a moment after them, and sees the vast prairies outstretched in front of them with no small amount of trepidation, “What should we do?”

“Don’t ask her?!”

When Moonswallow was little, all she wanted to do was be like her mother. She looked exactly like her mother, even down to the fluff in her ears.

There were five of them for only a moment: Whitebreeze, a well-respected senior warrior with a cool head and cunning mind, Rainbright, a beautiful warrior who had more charisma than even Needlestar who half the Clan would give up their lives for, and then the children. Nightspark, who looked nothing like the pure white Rainbright or the white tabby Whitebreeze. Instead she was a pure black, a remnant from Rainbright’s maternal grandmother.

Moonswallow though? She was an exact carbon copy of their mother.

So was Rainpaw.

And then Rainbright died. Not immediately, not immediately. It took a few moons for the life to drain from her mother. Whitebreeze decided that she should live on in the cat that was most like her, the one that shared her slight frame.

It might as well have been a curse.

Rainbright was beautiful and charismatic but also cruel and petty and selfish. She took from the cats around her and then did it again and again. Rainpaw was the same, more than willing to convince Thistledawn and Whispclaw to leave their mother’s side and starve so Rainpaw could have some more milk for herself.

And Moonswallow followed her.

Because Rainpaw was Rainbright. And Rainbright was the cat she should grow up to be, to replace the cat they killed. Nightspark didn’t follow them—Whitebreeze had little care to give the cat that couldn’t replace the love of his life.

It is hard for a cat to know when they have their face pressed into the mud when there wasn’t claws in their back to keep them down.

Rainpaw…used ever single cat around her without abandon. There wasn’t a second of hesitation as she lead a cat on just so they could give them their cats just for Rainpaw to grow bored of them and move onto a cat that interested her more. Moonswallow couldn’t even list all the cats this happened to, it was probably the entire Clan.

And it’s not like Mintbelly ever tried to stop her, instead he seemed to annoy all the popularity that came with his apprentice. Maybe he knew what she was doing, maybe he didn’t.

Maybe him letting her get carried away by a hawk that day was a bit of revenge.

For all the cats she’d hurt.

For making him miss his chance to become deputy by Rainpaw purposely failing her final assessment over and over again, simply for the sake of it.

Or maybe it was just an accident.

It’s not like Whitebreeze ever took it like that—as far as her father was ever concerned, Mintbelly killed the cat he loved all over again. Not Rainpaw, no, Rainbright. Moonswallow doesn’t know if Whitebreeze ever saw Rainpaw as her own cat and not a replacement.

Moonswallow doesn’t know that if Whitebreeze had gone about things a different way, then he might have gotten Rainbright all over again. In her.

She had been a petty, vicious, cruel child because that is what she thought she must be. It’s what she was told to do, it’s how she was told to live. She was to follow Rainpaw in every thing she did and support her blindly, but always make her look better than Moonswallow. Moonswallow should trip over her own feet, grow too large, have a figure far larger than the rest of her family to support Rainpaw. Rainbright. Or rather, the amalgamation that was her mother her sister and herself.

Moonswallow doesn’t know if Rainpaw purposely meant to fail her first assessment. Maybe Rainpaw would have told her if that was planned. Or maybe she wouldn’t have.

Moonswallow never got to know Rainbright. She never got to know Rainpaw either.

Moonswallow could only claim to know a fake cat that lived in between those two cats.

And she could only claim that she no longer deserved the hatred that she got from the Rainpaw—Rainbright creature because she had tried to make up for it every day for several seasons straight. She lowered her head she went on patrols she was kinder she was selfless.

It was hard to repair the damage when she didn’t have the charisma that her mother and her sister had. The elder warriors started turning on her, feeling betrayed for what Rainbright had done and made them do in the past, the warriors that she had grown up with had started digging their claws into her heels, trying to drag Rainpaw out of her.

Trying to fall back into Rainbright’s orbit.

They also turned on her soon enough.

So now. She has no one but Nightspark but then even barely.

Moonswallow wishes—she wishes that Rainbright and Whitebreeze didn’t exist.

She wishes that Rainpaw existed as her own cat.

Moonswallow wishes for the impossible so she grabs her dreams in her jaws and shoves them down her throat.

“Separate.” Moonswallow breathes before turning and charging along the edge of the treeline, dancing back and forth across the BroadleafClan border. She knows that the rest of the patrol scatters in directions back towards camp. She planned on it, actually.

All she had to do was throw off this fox. And while she might not be the fastest runner or like the damp underground that made up BroadleafClan land, she was the cat with the sharpest claws.

Moonswallow pushes herself harder and harder, feeling the hot breath of the fox on her haunches. Of course it chose her, she’s the biggest meal after all. She might be a struggle to get down, and taste a bit like gristle after all this running but it’s better some cat than no cat, right? Moonswallow has been hunter before, she understands what the fox is thinking.

She sneers like a rabbit as she scrambles up the first tree she can find. It’s hardly more than a bush but it’s sturdy enough to support her weight and while the branch she chose might be low it doesn’t threaten to break under her weight and it’s just low enough for the fox to jump up and get a faceful of her claws.

Moonswallow feels her claws dig into the fox’s eye cavity, going in one end and then hitting the other side. She quickly lifts her paw to prevent it from getting lodged in its head, it comes out with parts of the fox’s eyes clinging to her claws. Viscous fluid runs down her paws, presses against the branch and squelches when Moonswallow takes a step back as the fox howls and howls.

It paws at its shredded eye, as if it could heal it with enough effort.

Then its whimpers dies off and it just. Looks at her with its black eye. No longer with malice. Maybe with respect.

Moonswallow gives it a quiet hiss.

The fox gives her a low bark in return. And then its head suddenly snaps up, looking at the place where BroadleafClan scent has begun to grow stronger and approach them. It takes a little step away and Moonswallow backs onto the trunk to get back on the ground and get back on her land before she can see just how welcoming Morningstar is right now.

The fox lunges at her, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye but Moonswallow is back up the tree in the flash of a swipe, sneering at the fox as it bangs its head into the tree a tail length to the left of where she had been.

She hisses at it once more, loud and drawn-out, puffing out her fur and showing off her claws.

The fox slinks away as they start to hear BroadleafClan on the breeze. She waits for it to be gone deeper into the forest before she jumps off the tree and runs back across the border. Her paws ache like they’ve never ached before, she swears that she can feel splinters in all her pads.

“Are you the trespasser?” A cat calls out to her from behind before she can crest a hill.

“Sorry I didn’t get torn apart by a fox to keep your borders pure!” Moonswallow spits back before she climbs over the hill and the other cat is blocked from her view.

No one expected her to survive.

When she strolls into camp, exhausted and with blood on her claws, the first thing several cats do is stare at her blankly. She doesn’t pay them any mind as she stumbles toward the medicine den, watching her back left and front leg paws which have begun throbbing. She’s not sure that when she lost a claw—was it before or after she took out the fox’s eye? Or was her missing claw lodged somewhere in that fox’s face?

“—Swallow! Moonswallow!” Someone calls out but she can’t place it until she sees her sister running over to her, barely managing to skid to a halt before slamming directly into her, “You…You’re alive?”

Moonswallow smiles and gets a scratch to the heart when Nightspark flinches. She has the same smile that Rainpaw had.

“Unless you believe that the wind is able to bring me into camp in this condition, then no. If you don’t believe that—”

“Don’t play with me, Moonswallow.” Nightspark cuts her off, voice choked, “Don’t look at me like that don’t talk to me like that. I hate it.” Nightspark lets out a fake laugh, “It makes it really hard to be glad that you’ve come back when you sound like her—that. Like that.”

Moonswallow simply bows her head.

“Go to the medicine den.” Nightspark says, still for a second before she pushes her pelt against Moonswallow’s, “I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You’re getting it.” Nightspark snaps. Moonswallow can feel her tail lashing, “And you can step back.”

Hopmist, who had been slowly creeping up, stops in his tracks.

“Nightspark—” He starts, but the cat he had fancied for seasons easily turns her back on him, forcing Moonswallow to rest most of her weight on her. He calls out her name on last time, but Nightspark is too busy following Moonswallow into the small grass-covered overhang that was the medicine den.

“So she—”

“Finish that sentence, Spiralheart.” Nightspark hisses. The orange cat gives her a shocked look before cowering away under her fiery glare. He keeps his head lowered as he looks Moonswallow over with more care than he ever has.

“I’ve also lost a claw.” Moonswallow mumbles as Spiralheart inspects all of her feet, tutting quietly under his breath.

“I can’t tell if you came out of this worse for wear or far better than expected.” Spiralheart mutters, as he drops her back paw, “She’ll live.” He tells Nightspark.

“Of course I’ll live.” Moonswallow remarks with a eye roll.

“You say that without knowing how much blood is on you.” Spiralheart replies with just as much snark, “Just because you weren’t mauled doesn’t mean that the fox didn’t scratch you. Your haunches are torn up.”

“Oh, are they?” Moonswallow twists to see and just as she was told, the white fur on her behind has been stained red, “Oh.”

“I suspect that it managed to get some scratches while you were fleeing. Do you feel it?”

“My back legs, or the scratches.”

“Both.”

“I feel all my legs.” Moonswallow wiggles her toes just to make sure, “But I don’t—wait.” Moonswallow lets out a sharp hiss as pain slowly starts to creep in. It only grows stronger the longer she looks at the blood, “I feel them both.”

“I’m surprised that you’ve held off the pain for this long.” Spiralheart remarks as he grabs a bundle of herbs and starts to make a poultice, “Most warriors would have been sobbing for their families by now.”

Moonswallow and Nightspark share a glance.

“Ah. Apologies.” Spiralheart says before applying the poultice and turning away. She hisses as the sting seeps into her skin, “I’ll leave you to it. And I’ll direct some…visitors your…way…” Spiralheart understands that it’s better to stop talking and slinks off before he can embarrass himself any further.

“He’s a fool.” Nightspark mutters.

“A knowledgeable fool.” Moonswallow corrects, “Yewflower never bothers to check my pads.”

Nightspark gives Moonswallow a concerned look, but wisely chooses not to follow up on that statement and instead pivots to, “What happened?”

“I ran.” Moonswallow begins before giving Nightspark a short account of what happened. Her sister only interrupts to ask if the fox had gotten any BroadleafClan cats, Moonswallow pushes away her worry. Their fox had always liked CloudClan blood most. Or perhaps it liked the blood of all cats and BroadleafClan simply had never made it known.

Moonswallow wouldn’t put it past the new Morningstar, at least.

“Once Spiralheart tells me how long I have to spend in camp, then I’ll move out of here and back to the warriors dens. No more patrols for a few days…or at least until Burrpelt forgets that I was injured the last time he sent me on patrol and tries to do it again.”

Try to have more faith in him. Nightspark had said the first time. She didn’t say it the second. Nightspark was not stupid.

“They’re all idiots. I could do their job better than them.” Nightspark hisses.

“You give yourself too little credit.” Moonswallow says with a laugh, “I could be them better than them. They’re incompetent, Burrpelt never remembers anything and Needlestar never thinks about what he does remember. They’re embarrassments to CloudClan.”

So what is it about them that keeps me here?

Loyalty, of course. Moonswallow wasn’t well respected by her Clanmates, nor was she ever willing to become a queen and make a family of her own, but she wasn’t willing to leave either. Spending just a few moons in the nursery, or even less if her potential mate was willing to take her place once the children were weaned was a thought that hurt more than the wounds that covered her.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Toms.”

“Ooookay.” Nightspark says and Moonswallow rolls her eyes, ready to change the subject before Nightspark shifts from sitting beside her to on top of her, “What about toms?”

“About how they’re all idiots.” Moonswallow snaps but she doesn’t thrash to get her sister off, “And how I could be a tom better than them easily. It wouldn’t even take any effort. I have the frame, I have the strength.”

Nightspark stays quiet.

“I could be them better than they could be themselves.” She flexes her paw, “Though I guess that’s a common thought?”

Nightspark’s head shake says a lot.

There is a fox on the edges of their territory and it must have infected her because she’s grown wild and rabid in the ensuing moons.

It’s a chance noticed by even the youngest apprentices, because the cat they had always known as so mild has shown off his fangs. It takes Honeypaw the least amount of time to notice that Nightspark no longer referred to him as a brother, and when Honeypaw does something, the rest of the apprentices follow. Or rather, Honeythistle and the young warriors.

The fact spreads through the clan slowly, that the largest she-cat was now the largest tom. It helped that once you knew, he wouldn’t tell you twice. Any mistake made would get you a face full of claws.

Spiralheart didn’t like it, and Yewflower was ambivalent, but their new apprentice, Tallpaw, was outwardly terrified of him. Moonswallow didn’t mind—after all, he was only doing what he needed to. Others negative thoughts and emotions had nothing to do with him.

He always felt as if there was something wrong with him.

Instead, he knows that there’s nothing wrong with him. There has never been anything wrong with him, his existence was never incorrect. What was incorrect about him was the corpse that had been layered over his existence, rotten blood flowing into his eyes and obscuring his vision.

“My daughter has grown haughty and annoying.” Whitebreeze remarks as Moonswallow sticks his head into the elder’s den. He sits alone because the rest of the elders are sunning themselves and no one wanted to invite him. After all, there is one cat in which Rainbright lives.

He hopes that his father chokes on the fetid blood. He’s hoped that for seasons actually, but he has never gotten what he wanted.

“Your daughter wants to go out on a walk with you.” Moonswallow says, watching his father as he sighs and gets up for his woven nest. It strikes Moonswallow just how similar they look as they leave camp. He can’t imagine that they don’t look like the exact same camp as they leave camp. His father has his scars, but they’re mostly hidden by the white fur. The same can be said for Moonswallow.

As they walk over the hills to the edges of the territory near BroadleafClan, Moonswallow cannot imagine that most creatures would have a way to separate them.

“The stench of BroadleafClan is awful.” Whitebreeze mutters because even his old and worn nose can recognize their enemy. A bit late however, because they are only a few tail-lengths from BroadleafClan now. In fact, when Whitebreeze had been a warrior, this patch of land belonged to BroadleafClan despite being flat land. It had only been regained recently, in part due to the unknown factor that had interrupted the battle.

“Father, what did you first feed to the fox?”

Whitebreeze pauses for a moment, eyes wide before he recollects himself, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you fed the fox that keeps on killing our Clanmates.” Moonswallow says calmly, putting his tail over his feet as he sits down. He keeps his gaze pinned on his father as his fur begins to puff out.

“I did nothing of the such!”

“You knew when Mintbelly was killed. Remember you told me that, moons ago? That Mintbelly had been killed during the day, and thus I should be careful?” He lowers his eyes until he’s glaring, “How could you have known that? We don’t know when cats are killed, just that its usually cats that sleep outside and that we tend to find them in the morning.”

“Just because Honeythistle got mauled during the battle doesn’t mean—”

Moonswallow mimics him for a moment, “‘Mintbelly got Rainbright killed!’ Isn’t that what you thought of him?” He tilts his head at his father, “After all, aren’t you the reason that cats killed by the fox don’t get a vigil? Weren’t you the one that said that they shouldn’t get one until the fox had been dispelled?”

He lets out a short, barking laugh, “Didn’t you say you’d dedicate yourself to killing the fox? Didn’t you retire early soon after?”

“I am not the only one—”

“I know you’re not the only coward—” Moonswallow snaps, “But it makes too much sense, doesn’t it father?”

“You’re being a raving she-cat.”

Moonswallow’s ear twitches, “I would say that I’m being quite logic. After all, I believe it would have attacked you by now if it truly didn’t know you.”

“What—” Whitebreeze starts before he snaps around, staring at the fox a few tail-lengths away that Moonswallow had glanced at. His fur puffs out, instinctively hissing and unsheathing his claws, “Rainbright. Run.”

“Hmpf. ‘Rainbright’.” Moonswallow lifts his tail from his paws, revealing his unsheathed claws, “Even now, you’re obsessed with your mate. You should have joined her long ago.”

“Are you suggesting that I kill myself?” Whitebreeze says, whipping back against to glare at him. The speed with which the haughty look on his face fades was glee-inducing. Moonswallow playfully flexes his paw, letting his claws glint in the light.

“Yes, I was. It would have been easier for you. But, this is more fun for me.” Moonswallow sneers before he lashes his father’s face, tearing his muzzle and causing it to spurt out blood. The fox is hungry. The fox is always hungry, always unsatisfied, half blinded by him and fully blinded by all the corpses that hang over it.

The fox lunges for Whitebreeze and barely misses tearing out his throat.

Moonswallow should have noticed sooner why Whitebreeze’s mention of Mintbelly was so suspicious. Most foxes weren’t as torn up as their fox, yet it only attacked at night? The scars must have been from Mintbelly, conscious as he was led into a trap. It matches with the damage that Whitebreeze is doing right now, desperately lashing out his paws to keep the fox from closing the distance between them.

The fox grabs Whitebreeze’s paw and yanks it, unbalancing him.

His father screams, lashing out with all his remaining limbs.

“This is for Mintbelly, Rabbitpaw, Haredash, Tumblewhisker, Sunnyspots, Clearpaw, Perchpaw, Sandyface, Sleekheart, Yellowtail, Ashpaw, and Dropstalk. This is also for Rainpaw. This is also for Nightspark. This is also for me.” Moonswallow hisses at his father as the fox flips him over and tears his stomach out. His words can barely be heard over his father’s screaming, “This is our revenge.”

“Please…Rainbright…” Whitebreeze calls out one last time before the fox’s jaws close over his heart.

Moonswallow watches passively for only a moment. The fox begins to eat his father, fully tamed by him. The fox doesn’t expect for Moonswallow to leap on it a moment later, using his weight to crush the weakened animal before closing his mouth around his neck before snapping it. The fox falls limb. A fox rises and drags the corpse back home.

Whitebreeze is left to rot.

The morning after the vigil, Moonswallow slinks into Needlestar’s den without being asked. His leader starts, ready to attack before he realizes who it is.

“Oh, Moonswallow, what—”

“I want to be deputy. I don’t care if I’m not immediately after Burrpelt, but I am going to be leader after you.” Moonswallow turns and leaves the den. He takes a nest at the edge of the warrior’s den, as usual. Though not as many cats try to avoid him now.

Nightspark lies right beside him.

Nightspark comes over the hill and stops mid-pawstep. She can’t see her brother through the thin layer of snow because the sun hasn’t risen yet, but she knows her scent like the back of her paws. Even the cold air can’t hide his scent from a few fox-lengths away.

“So, this is how you’ve been spending your time?” The deputy of CloudClan says, purposely flicking his tail to get his sister’s attention, “With a BroadleafClan cat?”

“Ah, well.” Nightspark replies, lowering her ears in embarrassment, “It’s not been much so far. Just a bit of time we’ve been spending together.”

“It’s been seasons.” Moonswallow corrects. Nightspark glowers at him, “If you want to lie to me and say that I’m incorrect, then do so.”

“Well, fine. Maybe it was! What is it to you! It’s not like you would ever want a mate.” Nightspark bites out, “If you want to yell at me, yell at me back in camp. It’s cold out here.”

“No.” Moonswallow says. The first few beams of light begin to appear on the horizon, stars disappearing as he continues to speak, “As you have just admitted to breaking code two: loyalty to your clan above all else, I am invoking code ten.”

“You can’t do that!” Nightspark yowls, puffing out her fur until she’s a fluffy slice of the night, “You aren’t the leader. Your word isn’t the code.”

“Do you want to admit your crimes to Needlestar? Do you think he’s going to make a separate decision?”

“I—” Nightspark begins before turning away, shaking her head as if there’s something out of balance inside, “Moonswallow. I am your sister. Your only sister. You cannot invoke code nine and claim the entire clan is more important than me!”

“Is it not?”

Nightspark steps back as if Moonswallow just clawed her, “Moonswallow—”

“I want you gone from our territory by the next dawn.” Moonswallow gets to his feet and dusts off some snow, “For you are no longer a CloudClan cat.” Nightspark takes a few steps backwards, staring like she expects Moonswallow to take his words back.

Then, she turns and runs.

Moonswallow bites back his emotions and turns before trudging back to camp.

“You can climb it, if you want.” The MountainClan cat says. Moonswallow didn’t ask their name and the cat never offered it. They were an errant cat, for the rest of the clan had been in the area. Moonswallow had seen them from a distance as they were approaching, but only a single cat had approached them.

Their pond scum green eyes were disconcerting.

“There’s no need to climb it.” Yewflower responds in turn. The MountainClan cat takes no note of her irritation and instead just flicks their eye and turns around.

“Good luck, Moonstar.” The cat says before leaving. Moonswallow unsheathes his claws, ready to attack the cat for having such information but the elderly Spiralheart interrupts him.

“The dead speak in the ears of MountainClan cats.” He says, “What you are about to see is something that they live with all the time. In a way, of course, but—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Moonswallow interrupts as he approaches the silver tree that stretches up so high that when he tries to look to its top, he ends on falling on his back instead. He hisses and scrambles to his feet quickly, baring his teeth at Yewflower and Spiralheart so they will never mention this to every one.

“Just press your nose to it.” Spiralheart says, “And try to relax.”

Try to relax. Moonstar thinks to himself with a derisive snort as he presses his nose up against the tree, I haven’t been relaxed in—

When he opens his eyes, they’re filled with stars. He’s back in camp, but instead of the midday sun overhead, there’s just stars. The moon hangs high overhead, looking straight down at him. There are dozens of ghostly cats lining the walls of the hollow, and with a start, Moonswallow realizes that he’s in the complete center of camp.

“Moonswallow.” He whips around to see an unfamiliar face looking back at him, “I am Galescrap. When I was younger, I was your mother’s first friend. Bow your head.” Moonswallow does as he’s told, and barely manages not to flinch as the wave of emotion that settles in him when Galescrap puts her muzzle against his head, “With this life, I give you self-respect. Use it well, you aren’t like most cats. Not in emotion, nor in action.”

Galescrap gives him a heavy look for a moment.

He knows she’s waiting for an apology.

“Who is next?” Moonswallow calls out, turning around to look at the collected cats. When he looks back, Galescrap is no longer there, and Gorsespeckle has taken her place.

“Don’t turn away.” The younger cat tells her, “Or else I’m going to go into Honeythistle’s dreams and tell her that she should have taken your offer to become deputy because her leader is a coward.”

“Don’t you dare.” Moonswallow snaps back, but there’s no anger in his voice as he gazes on at Honeythistle’s dear twin brother.

“Bow your head, Moonstar.”

“Don’t call me that yet.” Moonswallow says, before doing as he ordered as planting his claws in the ground as an unknown emotion sweeps through him.

“With this life, I give you a renewed ability to make connections with other cats. Use it well.” Gorsespeckle peels away to look at him, “I know now why Nightspark had to leave. While I don’t hold that against you—you were a good mentor to me as her replacement—I can’t help but worry about you. You have no kin left, so you must regard the entire clan as your family.”

“I will.”

Gorsespeckle nods, looking to Moonswallow’s side.

He comes to face the next cat and recoils as he looks into a mirror.

“You.”

“Me.” Rainbright says. She has his voice. She has his face.

Moonswallow flexes his muscles, making their only disparity even larger.

“If you react to me this way, then you’re going to be even more upset later.” Rainbright says, voice soft and lilting and cloyingly sweet, “Lower your head, my erstwhile son.”

Moonswallow thinks about rejecting this life for a long time. He never knew his mother, not really. But despite that, Moonswallow had to live under her shadow for most of his life. To this day, he worries about the rotten blood in his eyes.

In the end though, he does lower his head.

“With this life, I give you the ability to know when you’ve being taken for a fool.” The floor drops out from under Moonswallow and he nearly sinks to the floor and yowls. There’s no ground, nothing to hold him upright. All there is is him, that’s the only cat he can look to for support, “Use this life to support your clan. You are leader, you must not fall to simple half-truths.”

Rainbright looks down at him, blue eyes glinting with no emotion underneath.

His mother leaves him and Moonswallow is barely able to remain on his feet.

“Behind you.” A similarly soft voice says.

“No. No. Not you.” Moonswallow cries out, ready to fall to his feet before that same cat comes to support him, keeping him upright.

“I should have expected this.” Rainpaw says, looking exactly like Rainbright looking exactly like their mother looking exactly like Moonswallow, “But it still hurts you know, to have my own brother despise me so.”

“You were awful.” Moonswallow says, lowering his head and turning away but before he can reject this life, Rainpaw touches her nose to his forehead.

He braces himself to be swept off his feet, but instead comes a gentle feeling that reinforces his connection to the ground.

“With this life, I give you kindness. Use it, both to supplement what you were so cruelly deprived of, and to pass on to the future of your clan. Though, mostly the first.” Rainpaw says, as she steps back with a bright smile, “Can you blame me for being a bit selfish if it’s for my little brother?”

“Rainpaw—” Moonswallow reaches out for his big sister as she steps away.

“My name isn’t Rainpaw.” The cat says.

“Then what?” Moonswallow asks.

The cat opens her mouth, and says nothing. Her eyes twinkle when Moonswallow understands what her big sister had done.

“Thank you, Nameless.” Moonswallow says earnestly. The pure white cat disappears back into the ranks of StarClan.

“Well, I have to follow that up.” Says the next cat.

Moonswallow bows his head to his former mentor without asking, and Emberdot sighs, “You’ve gotten so straightforward. To imagine that I would ask that of you so often yet miss it when I get it. With this life, I give you clearsightedness. Use it to protect your clan from threats, don’t rush into situations.”

Moonswallow nods. That life hadn’t even hurt. Instead it felt like if he wanted, he could look all the wall to the Moonhole and see his body sleeping at the roots.

Sparkpaw comes up next. Moonswallow is shocked to see the other cat. They had been apprentices together, but the sickly cat had been easily taken by sickness in apprenticehood. He hadn’t thought about the yellow cat in many seasons.

Moonswallow lowers his head, “With this life, I give you resilience. May not a single life go by without a fight.”

Moonswallow nods, with renewed energy. He feels as if he could take the fox on all over again, could tear it to pieces without a seconds hesitation. He flexes his paws in wonder, revealing in the strength that runs through his veins.

“I know that you aren’t happy to see me.” Says the next cat as they stroll up as if they hadn’t tortured Moonswallow as long as he was alive, “But I have an important lesson for you. One that actually matters this time.”

“Get on with it.” Moonswallow grunts, lowering his head so Rabbitleaf, one of the elders who lived alongside Whitebreeze and tortured him ever second he could, could give him a life.

“With this life, I give you bravery. Use it well to defend your clan.”

Moonswallow gives Rabbitleaf a dull look.

“Look,” Rabbitleaf explains, “I know that you’re braver than I ever was. But someone needs to give you a life for that because it’s basically tradition and I was the one who volunteered.

“Dear StarClan, you talk too much.” The next cat says, interrupting Rabbitleaf before he can talk himself in circles. Mintbelly bows his head first before Moonswallow can. When he raises his head, the satisfied smirk there is surprising, “Rabbitleaf just wanted to be part of this because he thought it would be exciting.”

“Well, I’m here for something important. Lower your head.” Moonswallow does as he commands, and when his muzzle touches Moonswallow’s forehead, he jerks. This life hurts, which isn’t uncommon, but then it settles in his gut and feels…familiar, “With this life, I give you vengeance. Use it to make sure that crimes don’t go unpunished. Never let someone get away from justice. Chase them to the ends of the world if you need to.”

“Mintbelly—”

“Thank you.” The tom says, as he walks away, “By only wish is that you had gotten him sooner.”

Before he can respond, Needlestar is there to take his place.

“I know.” Needlestar begins, “I failed you, time and time again. But, it is only customary for me to give you your final life.”

“Get on with it then.” Moonswallow says before lowering his head.

“With this life, I give you strength.” Needlestar says, gently pressing his head to Moonswallow’s. Vitality flows through her, and what he had mistaken as strength from Sparksky is absolutely nothing in comparison.

Needlestar steps back and Moonswallow stands tall, “I hail you by your new name, Moonstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of CloudClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity. Do you promise to do so?”

“I do.” Moonstar replies, raising his head and standing up high.

StarClan calls out his name. It’s still ringing in his head as he opens his eyes.

Moonstar curls his paw together, before closing it. Then he gets up and commands his two medicine cats to get him back home. He has a clan to run.

#warriors au #warrior cats #allseeing eyes close #warrior cats oc #kitty talking #moonstar

0 notes

abortionforu · 2 years

Text

The Continuing Stigma of Abortion in India

In this article, we are going to talk about why it is important to end stigma around abortion in India. It’s a very popular topic, especially these days with so many women having unsafe abortions because of shame or lack of knowledge.

Click here if you’re looking for an Abortion in India

Many people believe that terminating a pregnancy is wrong. This belief comes from cultural stereotypes about what qualities a person should have and how a woman who doesn’t want to be a parent shouldn’t feel bad for it. Some cultures even consider it a shameful action.

This attitude towards abortion can contribute to maternal mortality. Since most deaths due to abortion occur within two weeks of conception, doctors may not identify the cause as an illegal procedure until after the fact. Sometimes mothers don’t get adequate care at the hospital afterward either.

Abortion isn’t just morally questionable, but also potentially deadly for those involved. Medical professionals must address underlying mental health conditions like depression before performing terminations, but stigma often keeps patients silent. Even when suicide does not play a part, silence can make it hard for someone seeking help to find it.

It is essential to break down this taboo if we want to see change. Healthcare providers must learn how to respond to difficult questions about termination with compassion and understanding instead of judgment.

We need to acknowledge that some pregnancies will not work out and offer supportive services to anyone who might need them.

Social reasons

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels

Many people believe that abortion is wrong because it goes against social norms. These beliefs are very strong, even when the person performing or witnessing the abortion is not involved directly with the woman’s family.

Don’t feel shy if you’re unmarried and want to get an abortion. Click on the link to know more about Unmarried Abortion in Delhi

There are many examples of this throughout history. For instance, during the Victorian era, most cultures believed that women should accept their place as wives and mothers and enjoy their marriage and motherhood for the rest of their lives. Society now knows this to be false — what an individual woman chooses to do with her body is her own business.

Abortion isn’t just socially unacceptable, but also morally questionable. Some argue that killing an unborn child is equivalent to murder, which is illegal.

However, these arguments don’t hold up for two main reasons. First, there’s no medical consensus that says having an abortion will cause death (or even infertility). Second, even if there was, we would still have to weigh whether letting someone die is right. This is especially true given that early abortions can be done painlessly today.

Religious reasons

Photo by Sharath G. on Pexels

Many people believe that abortion is wrong because of religion. Some religious groups consider it murder, or at least morally wrong. Others believe that life begins at conception, so terminating a pregnancy is equivalent to killing an infant.

These beliefs often seem contradictory to what most people think about when they hear the word “abortion.” Most people associate the term with taking away a baby’s life, which is definitely not okay.

However, there are several medical procedures that can be used before babies even exist, making this argument irrelevant. What about condoms? People argue that abortions could be prevented if men were more careful about contraception, but quite frankly, many women feel like men get enough advice about sex education as it is!

Abortions have been performed for centuries all over the world, including in countries with very strong religions. So although some may find them moral, other people don’t. It is important to understand that your opinion doesn’t matter much unless you try to impose it on others.

Hemorrhages usually start as light vaginal bleeding and then become heavier and longer lasting.

Lack of awareness

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels

In fact, many people believe that abortion is illegal in our country! Many more do not know what procedures are available or where they can get an abortion done.

Dr Rupali’s Abortion Centre is also known for its Safe and Legal Abortion in Delhi

This lack of knowledge about abortions has created a stigma around them. Some feel that seeking an abortion means you will be unable to fulfill your dreams, and thus start looking for ways to cause a miscarriage.

Many parents don’t understand why pregnant women need to go out during their first trimester. They may even make comments like “Why doesn’t she just have her baby now?” Or “At least she could give birth at home instead of going through all this trouble.” This only adds to the stigma surrounding pregnancies.

Abortion isn’t always easy to come by either. Most private clinics won’t offer early medical terminations unless you are under eighteen, so most young girls cannot access safe, legal abortions.

There are also restrictions when it comes time to re-enter the workforce. Since most employers require a document confirming that a woman is no longer breastfeeding, women who want an abortion must find a way to deal with that.

It is important to remember that there is never reason to put pressure on someone to end their own pregnancy, nor should anyone criticize someone for wanting an abortion. It is totally personal choice.

Personal reasons

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels

Many people feel that abortion is morally wrong because of their religious beliefs. Some believe that life begins at conception, so killing an embryo is equivalent to killing a human being. Others think it is physically or psychologically harmful for women’s health.

Some men believe they are not responsible for contraception due to gender stereotypes about what Women should be doing with their bodies. They, therefore, assume responsibility for any pregnancies caused by irresponsible sex.

People also worry that if left alone, social pressures will promote illegal abortions which can result in death for both patient and provider.

These fears sometimes lead people to commit acts of violence against others who undergo late-term abortions. Because of this stigma, many patients do not seek help after learning about their options, rendering them vulnerable to complications.

The government has failed to enforce laws

Photo by shalender kumar on Pexels

More than half of all abortions are done under illegal procedures, due to the stigma attached to them in our country. Even when performed legally, there is still much shame associated with it.

Looking for Painless abortion in Delhi?

Legal abortion can be expensive — up to 2,000 rupees (about 30 USD) for a primary procedure and 1,500 rupees (22 USD) for a secondary one. Some hospitals even bill you upfront for “confirmation” that an abortion was conducted!

Abortion providers must undergo criminal background checks as well as medical exams to verify their qualifications before they are allowed to work. But many don’t, and those who do face harassment and intimidation from authorities and patients alike.

Illegal abortions are far less costly because doctors often offer free services or at least very low-cost ones, but they are also not guaranteed safety. Infections are common since women may lack clean instruments and proper anesthesia, and some drugs are used in ways that hurt instead of helping relax the patient.

Anti-abortion activists

Photo by Lerone Pieters on Pexels

In fact, there are many groups that actively work against women’s access to safe abortion care. These include not only anti-choice religious organizations like the Catholic Church but also secular political ideologies like fascism.

Both of these have similar strategies which involve creating a stigma around abortions by portraying them as deadly or morally wrong.

By making it socially acceptable to discuss how “horrible” an abortion is, they create a space where people feel comfortable when having one. At the same time, telling people that abortions will result in their death can make people fear seeking one even more.

Furthermore, since most countries don’t legally recognize third-trimester abortions, doctors may be limited in what services they offer. This could mean pregnant individuals traveling across the country for (and paying large amounts of money for) medical attention.

It can also prevent those with financial means from accessing appropriate healthcare, as certain hospitals won’t perform late-term procedures.

#abortion #abortion in india #abortion rights #abortion clinic

0 notes

yooniesim · 2 years

Note

Is there like a link I can go to to see what is going on with all this drama? I see so many people posting about it but no one seems to lay out the whole story, just the bits and pieces they feel are pertinent.

Okay, buckle up for this one, kids. I can’t give my personal perspective for all of it, since a lot of this happened while I was on hiatus, but I’ll do my best to link what I can. I’ll split between past and present, because Mack constantly likes to say that people only bring up her past and “old views”, when there’s definitely more concerning details than that.

The “Past” (within the last two years at most):

You can find all the receipts for Mack’s previous transgressions on the blog @mackisakaren. It includes the voting for Trump twice and then defending it incidents, as well as perspectives from Mack’s former friends. Almost everyone that comes into contact with her winds up denouncing her, either because of her past actions or how she conducts herself to them later. One of her former friends came into my inbox recently to explain a little more about that. I’ve had at least 10+ anons from black simmers that said she’s displayed microaggressions and talked over them, not acknowledged their concerns and blocked them for disagreeing with her, etc. I haven’t posted them all yet, but you can check my anonymous and mack3030 tags if you’d like to find some.

But for the account I linked, the highlights include:

the aforementioned voting record

laughing at harrie being called “shiny wig” (anti-black sentiment)

defending voting for trump a second time because biden “creeps on little kids” (alt-right rhetoric ripped straight from pizza gate 4chan conspiracies) and doesn’t have it together mentally (as if Trump isn’t a self-admitted rapist with more than a few screws loose- Mack called him a “playboy”)

saying that she only regretted voting for Trump after the Jan 6 insurrection

claiming that people putting “labels” on each other is the reason we have so many “-isms and -phobias”

You can also take a look at this post by @/anachrosims, who was previously a good friend to Mack. Mack claims that she hates politics and “both sides”, which is often the route that previously conservative, educated white people take when they feel being Republican isn’t socially acceptable but they still agree with those types of ideals (either “fiscally” or socially). Her friend Texas also claims that she voted for neither Trump or Biden and that both sides are the same, which first pinged my radar as a clue that Mack truly hasn’t changed. Having a neutral or enlightened centrist mindset is unacceptable in an environment where entire groups of people are losing their human rights, being imprisoned, or killed. As anachrosims says, there is no seeing the “other side” when that side wants minorities to disappear. People that use this talking points are immediate red flags for me, because it’s often a cover for their true nature. I also want to make note that the post where Mack tried to “both sides” the issue was only from 3 months ago.

Anachrosims also made another post about how she and the others that were anti-paywall denounced Mack for her past and response to the criticism. I want to emphasize this because all the people claiming that Mack has done all the work for the “movement” and is the only reason it exists are wrong. Although I wasn’t here to witness it, everything I’ve seen indicates that it has always been a collaborative effort within those in the community, and there is no reason to hold Mack up on a pedestal without acknowledging the hard work of everyone else involved. Also, the person Anachrosims took the statement from there, Bucky? That publicly denounced Mack for her voting record and behavior? I’m pretty sure that’s the same Bucky she constantly refers to as the person that was attacked by perma-paywallers with transphobia and was pushed to suicide attempts twice. The fact that she constantly mentions this in her posts while the person involved is no longer online here and publicly made a post against her disgusts me. How dare she blast that all over the internet constantly when the person involved wants nothing to do with her. It’s gross and no doubt triggering and extremely performative.

But let’s move on now.

The Present (within the last month):

Now, my limited interactions with Mack started when I tagged her in this post as a reference for someone that had been doxxed by perma-paywallers. Promptly after, a user started replying on my miiko post about Mack being racist. I asked for receipts because I had no idea who Mack was at this point other than being a person that was doxxed. Mack had come into my DMs at some point to ask me a question, and later on I had messaged her about Miiko in order to have her added to Mack’s red flag creator list. So, when I posted this, Mack defended herself in the replies of the post and came to me to chat about it more. I showed sympathy to her because the person in my replies was very aggressive, and as someone that also grew up in the South surrounded by racism and brainwashing tactics at every turn, I wanted to believe that she had changed. We exchanged stories related to the election and I tried to be as kind as possible.

After talking to Mack and considering the receipts carefully, I decided not to interact with Mack as a precaution (and courtesy to anyone that had been hurt by her) and removed any reference from her from my blog. I wanted to give her a chance to show that she had changed, but I didn’t trust her either. I was going to organize my thoughts better in another post, but EA’s policy update happened then and everything blew up. So, I didn’t really think about it again until the next incident.

I made this post denouncing Mack because I witnessed the harassment of @/gyarutrait and @/saruin by Mack’s friend @/texasthegreatdestroyer. Texas was harassing them because they had blocked Mack because of her past racism, all of it was 100% in her defense. Previous to this post, I had DM’d Mack asking her to get Texas to back off because it was unacceptable for her friend (who she was still DMing and associating with) to be saying ableist and transphobic things to defend her and it needed to stop. Mack told me that she needed more time to think of what to say in a post about it, and to give her time to do so. Over a week passed, and although Mack was active and making posts throughout, she still said nothing. Texas was still harassing @/gyarutrait, to the point where she had to make multiple posts about it, and so I made my post about it. Notably, @/gyarutrait was given proof by Texas that Mack had told Texas her username, knowing Texas’ way of “handling conflict”, more or less sending her after her. Mack made a throwaway post about not being responsible for Texas’ actions and posted a screenshot of Texas in her block list. Nothing else was said or addressed.

At this point, Texas continued to make long, aggressive rant posts about myself and Dreamie. Dreamie had to make another post asking for people to please report Texas’ posts. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t deal with, but I noticed very quickly that Texas (on anon) was making disgusting references to my terminally ill family member that I had only spoken about in DMs to Mack and nowhere else on this site. The only way Texas could have known that is if Mack told her about it, and the only people the anon could be was Texas or Mack herself. This gave even more weight to the theory that Mack was sending her friend after people purposefully while sharing DMs with her. Texas continued sending me anons until I made this reply saying that she wasn’t shit and I wasn’t going to reply to her lame attempts anymore. Take note that through all of this, Mack was silent. And yet...

Mack made a post chastising the community for staying silent over her own harassment by perma-paywallers. She emphasized people’s mental health being attacked and that people could die. I responded that she had no right to lecture anyone on being silent about bullying when she herself said nothing about her friend that is still harassing and stalking people to this day. After all, how did she know that no one was going to attempt to hurt themselves because of that constant and violating harassment in her name? Mack then quickly... ran to Twitter to call me a clout chaser and manipulator that she had lost respect for as a friend... because I called her out for her hypocrisy. She still hasn’t responded to me directly or done anything besides victimize herself. Apparently she’s still talking about me on Twitter and reblogging from people that agree with her, but I have no interest in chasing her vague posts.

I want to emphasis that I chose to give Mack a very limited chance that she was not entitled to. I wanted to give her the opportunity to show with her actions whether she had changed, since I had not been in the community to see her previous actions for myself, and she made it very clear very quickly in the last few weeks that she has not. I would advise anyone reading to not make the same mistake, regardless of your stance on the paywall debate. Because what I’ve experienced is truly the tip of the iceberg if everyone that has come to me to testify about Mack is any evidence at all. I’ve barely even interacted with her and this is the shit show that resulted.

I hope this answers your question, nonny.

#asks #anonymous #ceci speaks #the patreon issue #mack3030 #long post #ceci speaks a lot more #politics tw #suicide mention #reference #i hope this is enough bc this is my last think piece on this lol #if anyone gets pissed that i wrote more than two paragraphs on this #please proceed to block me and then go fuck yourself #thanks

106 notes · View notes

ladyluscinia · 2 years

Text

I know there's not much point to trying to address the "Izzy Hands is Kylo Ren" takes - they're not going anywhere, the loudest proponents already have me blocked, disagreeing probably mostly serves to get me blocked more, etc. - but they bother me a lot and I've got time and motivation right now...

So. Kicking a hornet nest. Halfheartedly. My argument is meandering and ends when I get bored of writing it. Under a cut because I'm not bothering to structure or trim this down.

I find this interpretation of the fandom response immensely frustrating for a few reasons. For one, I think it's rooted pretty heavily in an anti mindset that basically suggests giving positive attention to a "bad" character or ship as a fan is effectively stealing the attention you owe to a morally better one, and then casts suspicion on your motives. Asking "Why would you like Izzy so much when the pure and good Stede / Edward / Revenge crew are right there?" Accusing people of vilifying other characters if they suggest Izzy might have been wronged in any of the numerous interpersonal conflicts. Assuming the only explanation for sympathizing with him is bigotry (unconscious or otherwise) driving opinions... Which is an insane thing to just drop into discussion like it's obvious and unquestionable before we start introducing relevant concepts like "protagonist centered morality". I also, understandably, object to the take that since I don't write extensive disclaimers on how this character is pure bigoted evil, then the most generous interpretation (aka the only way I'm not a bad person myself) is that I'm just really stupid and do not understand the story. Or got distracted by a Victorian ankle collar flash and my ability to understand "this is a bad person" fell right out with my brain.

Like, fuck, people are not subtle with implying anyone who likes Izzy without a "oh but I also hate him and think he's pure villain" tacked on is either a moron or actively malicious, and problematic to the point of demanding public repentance either way. He's a fictional henchman in a pirate comedy.

And that henchman status leads into the main reason this take bothers me... I think it's just plain incorrect.

Ever since the very first time I saw someone arguing this - and responded to it in dissent as the author had invited people to do, though they did not appreciate someone actually taking them up on said invitation - my immediate complaint was that it hinges on taking the absolute worst faith read of every action Izzy takes from start to finish. Like, you can interpret all these things to mean what you say they mean, but it's hardly the only way and often not even the encouraged way. Example: the writers have openly stated they aren't trying to focus on homophobia and didn't intend the anchor hoist to be an example of Izzy being racially biased. It's one thing to declare the author is dead and keep reading those as inadvertently present in the text and relevant potential explanations regardless of intent. It's a whole different thing to decide that it is objectively wrong for fans to dismiss things like the anchor hoist as a coincidence (which it literally was) because you've decided the character is blatantly racist and that interpretations of his actions with less bigoted motivations are inherently unacceptable excusing of racism. For people that praise the writing so much, there is a lot of hostility to the idea that good writing on an antagonist might entail them being complex and maybe even - gasp! - not as evil as they could be. (Which Izzy very much isn't, btw.)

And on the specific comparison at hand, suggesting Izzy is effectively just Kylo Ren or Walter White or any number of white asshole characters that get idealized by fans ignoring that they are meant to be terrible... there's a pretty big elephant getting ignored. Namely, Izzy Hands is not a character with power. He's a henchman, with a much bigger, badder, scarier boss in Edward (who is on screen even more than he is). He isn't respected or feared by the Revenge crew. He doesn't have an institution of blatant symbolic and literal power backing him up like the Badmintons, despite this being a thing they very much could have done. Some of those extras in Navy uniform could have easily been, say, remaining Queen Anne crew, arriving at Izzy's heel to reinforce toxic pirate culture on Edward (who in this version is presumably traumatized by piracy and desperately trying to escape to a peaceful life). Instead Izzy is alone, and unthreatening, and written with both a noticable aversion to impulsive conflict violence and a fawn response. If these great writers were trying to do a Walter White style external harm and eventual self destruction arc to make a point about toxic masculinity, then this setup looks like they kinda really suck at it.

You can't write a character hitting the dramatic fall part of that narrative if they quite literally never get a leg up in the first place, and the fall is kind of integral to that group of toxic assholes. It provides the moral lesson / message that Izzy enjoyers keep being accused of being blind to. Unless, of course, you are suggesting that he's the "bad writers glorifying a power fantasy" version (more like Kylo Ren than Walter White), though I thought these weren't bad writers and it's a very strange concept of a power fantasy to be the butt of every joke.

You can't make any effective point about a toxic white guy with power without writing a toxic white guy with power. Like, idk, the Badminton brother who falls on his own sword because he's too haughty to take the person he bullied seriously??? Sure, nobody would have the point of Breaking Bad fly right over their head if Walter White had been a loser getting mocked relentlessly on screen and failing left and right, but something tells me "cancer patient who is a bit of dick goes bankrupt and dies, and nobody cares" wouldn't have made the points about toxic masculinity and hubris in the first place. If you want a real lack of media literacy, transplanting an arc and associated symbolism onto a character that doesn't fit the associated archetype and not addressing how it still works and sends the same message beyond assuring that it does is a good example.

I mean, seriously, these arguments are made by the same people who also relentlessly tear into the idea that Izzy is even slightly competent as a pirate. So they can't even pretend that his arc in the show is his fall of hubris (a dumb decision to start him in the show just after the climax turning point, but at least possible), because they are determined to remind you that he never had anything he thinks he's losing in the first place. How is that supposed to work??? Loser remains loser, gets embarrassed a bunch, says mean things that mostly get shrugged off, and look how dangerous and destructive toxic masculinity and arrogance is, kids!

That. Is. Not. His. Archetype.

For the thing that will really piss antis off, Izzy's whole comedic butt-monkey routine does give him a few archetypes he can lean into, and most of them are based around symbolic or literal victimhood. Like how he is kind of the designated toxic masculinity guy, and his life completely sucks for reasons often outside his control. Which does convey messages about how toxic masculinity isn't good for anyone, but in a way where the logical conclusion is that Izzy is also suffering under it and the logical arc (especially in a redemptive series) is to have the audience feel bad for him and root for him to get his own happiness by escaping it (you know... like what people think they are doing in a very flat way with Edward). There's also a semi-karmic element when his own actions backfire, but the endless humiliation conga makes that pretty sympathetic too (he's not successfully evil but still suffering plenty for it), and that puts him in the group of unthreatening antagonists who stumble right into the good side because being evil kinda sucks for them and they aren't as good at it as the other real villains. Think Zuko, or Spike.

Butt-monkey characters do tend to be more sympathetic than not. That's a comedy staple.

But sure, keep pretending he's more like Walter White or Tyler Durden than a character from The Office, and writing extensive posts on how liking the pure evil character you've made up in your head is proof of moral failing and / or idiocy. That's really a great use of time and fandom energy 🙄

Izzy will continue to be Just Some Guy

#our flag means death #did some drunk izzyposting now for some sleep deprived izzyposting #though I guess i can save this as a draft and at minimum do some polishing and add a few ref links before posting #i just. i hate that whole comparison so much. and the fact it is always accompanied by 'learn how to interpret media' shit #when it's such a forced interpretation that ignores a lot of izzy's role in the narrative and comparable arcs / archetype #izzy hands ofmd #fandom culture #< failure to interpret media #ladyluscinia

46 notes · View notes

edoro · 2 years

Text

have seen a couple of meta posts talking about the Luz and Amity dynamic throughout s1 and specifically mentioning that "Luz humiliated/hurt Amity a number of times" and with all due respect this is an interpretation i heavily disagree with

Amity felt like Luz was humiliating her and targeting her personally, because Luz was involved in a number of situations that resulted in Amity being punished or humiliated in some way, but that was Luz's actual personal fault in... almost none of them.

Luz conspired with Willow to cheat and show Amity up - because Amity had just gone out of her way to be cruel to Willow, which, unbeknownst to Luz, was at that point a years-long pattern of behavior. the Abomination teacher deciding to just pluck her top student badge off and give it to Willow right there in the hall was unkindness on his part, and not something Willow or Luz made happen.

Amity's subsequent enraged meltdown is also not something that Luz made happen - that was Amity reacting out of fear and trauma, due to the perfectionism she developed as a result of her emotionally abusive upbringing.

it's understandable why Amity lost it to the extent that she did, but the fact that she had reasons for feeling as strongly as she did doesn't mean that Luz or Willow are responsible for the actions she takes based on those feelings. she was jumping on tables and hollering in the middle of the lunchroom and then started trying to attack Willow and Luz. she got in trouble with her teacher because she was publicly acting out in a really unacceptable way! she deserved to get scolded for that! it was not okay behavior!

in the Covention episode, Luz goes along with Eda cheating, and that's not cool, but the thing Amity's upset about isn't just that Luz cheated, it's that she was perceived to have cheated - and that has literally nothing to do with Luz. that's Lilith's fault.

in this episode, the Clawthorne sisters both used their respective teenage mentees as pawns in their ongoing squabble with each other. Eda pushed Luz into going along with something she knew was wrong and felt uncomfortable with but didn't feel like she had a choice about, and Lilith just went behind Amity's back to juice her up in order to use her as a tool to make herself look good.

Lilith is the one who cheated, and she didn't even do it with Amity's knowledge or cooperation. she made that choice deliberately, then left Amity to take blame when it came out. that has... literally nothing to do with Luz whatsoever.

and again, we can see why Amity blames Luz. she got angry at Luz and challenged her, and then Luz cheated, and then she somehow ended up getting embarrassed because of something she didn't even do - of course she's not going to put the blame on Lilith Clawthorne, head of the Emperor's Coven, her personal idol. she's going to blame the kid who she sees as having 'made her do' that.

but the idea that Luz 'made her' go bananas during s2e3 or 'made her' participate in that duel or set the terms that she did or anything is just not objectively correct. Amity had feelings about Luz's actions and words and then chose to act in certain ways based on those feelings - the fact that Luz inspired the feelings does not then make Luz personally responsible for the actions.

and then even in the library episode, where Luz ends up falling in with the twins and coming along when they sneak into Amity's secret hideout in the library and try to find her diary... Luz went along with them until they did something she actually felt was wrong, and then she spoke up and tried to get them to stop and tried to leave the situation. could/should she have recognized it sooner or done more in the moment? sure. there was definitely an element there of Luz getting swept up in the joy of having cool older friends and wanting them to see her as cool, so giving in to peer pressure, and ending up participating in something really wrong.

but Luz didn't take or read her diary. Luz told the twins they were going too far and wanted to leave, and then tried to pick up and put Amity's diary back after the twins messed with it. Amity walked in at the wrong time and, understandably, made assumptions about what was going on - and Luz did participate in an invasion of her privacy, and she does have the right to be mad about that, but like with the last two examples, the person who treated Amity badly and set her up for this humiliation here... is not Luz.

(and frankly i feel like the point of the twins' involvement in this episode is less "watch Luz succumb to peer pressure" and more "wow, the casual emotional cruelty Amity's older siblings display towards her sure does imply some things about the dynamics in the Blight family")

Amity calling Luz a bully for that feels like pure projection. Luz has tweaked Amity on purpose a couple of times, mostly in response to Amity demonstrating outright cruelty to someone who at first Luz recognized as a fellow outcast and then befriended. Luz has not purposely gone out of her way to harass or hurt Amity; most of the humiliation in these scenarios has either been because of someone else's actions (Lilith, her siblings) or her own reactions.

and that's kind of part of Amity's character arc? her parents told her she couldn't be friends with Willow, and it's understandable that as a child she couldn't stand up to them... but her parents didn't make her wage a years-long campaign of emotional abuse and social ostracization against Willow. Amity could have left her alone; she chose to hurt her on purpose instead.

Amity's actions are incredibly sympathetic and realistic. she's an abused kid being groomed into exactly the kind of person her parents are. she's been taught that she's better than others, that it's right for her to look down on them, and that this sort of petty, deliberate cruelty is how one demonstrates that sort of thing. she's the classic insecure bully, putting others down so she can feel superior because on the inside she feels like she's never good enough.

and it's understandable that she feels like Luz is responsible. Luz ends up being the common denominator in these situations, and she's easy for Amity to blame. blaming Luz means someone else 'made her' act out, so she doesn't have to actually confront her own actions and behavior or the fact that other people - her teacher, Lilith, her older siblings - are often capricious and cruel and use the power they have over her to humiliate her when it suits them.

but the fact that Amity feels that way doesn't make it true, and recognizing that it's not true is part of Amity's growth as a character. she comes to take ownership of her behavior and deliberately change it, rather than keep pushing the blame off on everyone else around her.

"someone else's actions cause me to feel things -> the feelings make me do things -> i am incapable of controlling either my feelings OR the actions the feelings 'make' me perform -> therefore the other person is responsible for my actions, they 'made me' do it" is a very seductive line of reasoning that allows a person to justify almost anything while neatly avoiding ever having any responsibility for their own behavior, but, also, it's an incredibly distorted train of thought and means, you know, that you're not taking accountability or being responsible for your own actions.

the fact that Amity stopped doing that is important. especially when that behavior is modeled for you all the time, it's hard to break out of. especially when you've genuinely hurt people and behaved badly, it's frightening and painful to own up to it and try to be better. it's just easier to make everything be everyone else's fault and make yourself out to be the victim, battered to and fro by the whims of the universe with no control or autonomy.

but that's not true. it's not true in Amity's case, and buying into her unhealthy and distorted idea that it is really does her and the work she's done to improve from the person she was in s1 a huge disservice imo.

(and, also, is really not fair to or imo even accurate about Luz and what her involvement and share of the responsibility/blame in these scenarios actually is.)

#luz noceda #amity blight #the owl house #meta

47 notes · View notes

lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years

Text

Figuring it Out Together - Fred Weasley

Title: Figuring it Out Together Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Male receiving oral, female receiving oral, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, some dom/sub elements but nothing too intense, begging, semi-public sex Summary: landing in detention with the person she hates most is the last thing Y/N ever wants to do. But of course, with Fred Weasley around nothing ever seems to work out the way Y/N thinks it will. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted an enemies to lovers smut with Fred! The summary is shit but what else is new lol. Thank you so much to @fandomscombine and the two anons who helped me develop this idea!! Requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! I’ve started a tag list, so send me a message or ask if you’d like to be added! Tags: @pandaxnienke

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

“Oi, Weasley! Get your ass back here!” Y/N shouts, chasing behind Fred as he heads towards the Gryffindor locker room with his brother. Fred and George stop in the tracks and turn around at the same time, the exact same cheeky smile on their mouths.

“Y/N!” George greets as she approaches.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Fred asks.

“You!” Y/N growls, pointing at Fred.

As Y/N comes to stand in front of them they both can’t help but notice how angry she is. Her face is flushed red and her eyes are dark and narrowed. Thankful that her anger seems to be directed at Fred, George gives his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning around and following the rest of the team into the locker room.

“Me?” Fred teases, pointing to himself. “I’ve done something to rile up Miss prim and proper Y/N? Give me a moment, I need to bask in the glory.” Fred closes his eyes, tilts his head back and opens his arms as if the heavens have opened up and sunlight is gleaming down on him.

All this does is infuriate Y/N further, and when she finally gets close enough she shoves Fred as hard as she can. He doesn’t really move much, but it shocks him, and that’s enough for her. “What’s your problem you fucking prick? Why did you do that?”

“You’re going to have to elaborate, darling,” Fred responds casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a lot of things I’ve done in my life to classify me as a prick, so I’m going to need more details.”

“You broke his arm,” Y/N clarifies, gesturing towards the Quidditch pitch.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Your brother has suffered far worse injuries during a game, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey will have him fixed up in no time. No need for all the dramatics.”

Fred’s casual attitude does nothing but make Y/N angrier, and she shoves him again. “Most of them due to you no doubt! You knew how important this game was and yet you still had to go out of your way to be a complete asshat!”

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have just finished a grueling match, and Fred spent most of it hitting bludgers at Y/N’s older brother Matthew like they were the only two people on the pitch. While Y/N normally would be loving the opportunity to rub in her house’s win, Y/N had been praying for Ravenclaw to win this particular match. It’s been Matthew’s dream to be a professional Quidditch player since he was a little kid, and this match was his opportunity to make that a reality. Scouts from a few different professional teams were in attendance, and the Ravenclaw team has spent weeks fitting in extra practices to give them the upper advantage on Gryffindor.

Even Y/N was positive that they would take the win, until Fred made it his personal agenda to ensure Matthew never scored a goal. Y/N’s brother had spent most of the game whizzing around the field avoiding Fred, and he failed to score a single goal. And the icing on the cake was that 20 minutes before Harry caught the snitch Fred hit a bludger so hard that Matthew couldn’t avoid it, and it came into direct contact with his arm – shattering quite a few of the bones in it.

Fred huffs. “What did you want me to do? Throw the game so your stupid brother could show off to all of those recruiters? Me hitting bludgers at him so he doesn’t score is kinda the whole point of the game, Y/N.”

“Don’t try and act like I’m the one in the wrong here, Fred!” Y/N shouts, gathering the attention of some of the students heading back towards the castle. “You were focusing a bit too hard on Matthew and you know it! There was six other Ravenclaw players on the pitch, did you think about trying to hit some bludgers towards them?”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N,” Fred spits, returning her anger. “It’s a fucking game, get over it. Why do you always have to be such a bitch? You suck the fun out of everything.”

Y/N is seething with anger, and just as she starts to pull her hand back to slap Fred across the face, Professor McGonagall is stepping in between them.

“What on God’s green earth do you two think you’re doing?” McGonagall asks, looking between the two of them. “Mr. Weasley, Ms. Y/L/N. Detention, all next week and I’ll have 50 points from each of you. Now I suggest you two go find something else to do before I make it a month.”

Y/N flips Fred off as McGonagall walks away before she’s turning on her heel and stomping back up to the castle.

“Will you sit down, your pacing is making me dizzy,” Matthew groans, putting his head in his hand.

“Sorry,” Y/N apologizes, giving her brother a sheepish smile. She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, trying not to jostle Matthew too much. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal his arm quickly, but some of the potions she’d given him left him quite dizzy, so he’s still resting in the Hospital Wing.

“Fred is a prick, Y/N. You didn’t have to confront him,” Matthew says, looking up at Y/N. “Although I really wish you would have slapped him.”

“If McGonagall had only showed up a few seconds later,” Y/N laughs. “I’ve never had the urge to hit someone before but there’s just something about his stupid face that makes me so mad. You’ve been working so hard for this match and then he called me a bitch,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t feel bad, and besides, this is a moment we should be celebrating.” When Y/N gives Matthew a confused look he laughs. “Your first detention! I’m so proud of you,” he says wistfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“Oh shove it,” Y/N says with a giggle. “I’m going to be stuck in a room every night for the next week with Fred doing whatever McGonagall wants, sounds lovely,” she adds sarcastically with an eyeroll.

“To be fair most girls would kill to be in your position,” Matthew points out with a laugh. “Locked in a room for hours on end with Fred Weasley. That’s like a girl’s wet dream come to life.” When Y/N grimaces at the thought Matthew gives her a look. “Every girl except for you apparently. Why do you even hate Fred so much?”

Y/N gives Matthew a look of surprise. “You can’t be serious?” When Matthew continues to look at her dumbfounded she scoffs. “You were at this school for two years before I was and all I heard when you were home on break was how much of an annoying prat Fred is. I mean I tried not to hate Fred just because you did when I got sorted into Gryffindor and he was pretty okay at first. But one day he just started being a dick to me and I realized you were right.”

“Probably because you’re my sister. I’m always on his case about pulling pranks or messing around in class, he probably figured you’d be the same way,” Matthew reasons.

Y/N shrugs. “Well he’s a bag of dicks anyway, so I’m not too bothered by it.”

Monday evening comes far too quickly for Y/N’s liking, and after dinner she trots off to the trophy room, Fred begrudgingly following behind. McGonagall is already waiting for them, and she directs them to sit on the couch in front of her. Y/N takes a seat and practically hugs the arm rest so she’s sitting as far away from Fred as possible.

“The behavior you two exhibited on Saturday was unacceptable and downright barbaric,” McGonagall scolds, her tone sharp. “You’ll be spending the week making sure every one of the trophies in this room shines like it’s brand new.” Y/N looks around at the vast amount of trophies in the room as McGonagall hands them each a rag. “This should give you plenty of time to not only think about your actions, but to resolve whatever animosity exists between the two of you.” She gives them each a stern look before heading towards the door. “I’ll be back to check on you both.”

Y/N groans as McGonagall shuts the door behind her and she hoists herself off of the couch towards the mantle, needing to put some space between her and Fred. McGonagall may want them to sort out their issues, but Y/N wants nothing to do with Fred, and she still has some lingering anger from their fight on Saturday so she’s sure all it would do is end in another detention. Y/N grabs a random trophy and starts scrubbing at it, keeping her back towards Fred.

“This is such bullshit,” Fred mutters to himself after a few minutes of working in silence. Y/N can feel his glare and her shoulders tense up, but she doesn’t say anything or turn around. “This is all your fault you know,” Fred continues a few moments later when Y/N continues to ignore him.

Y/N places the trophy she’d been working on back and picks up another one, determined not to give Fred a reaction. Clearly he’s trying to instigate her into getting into more trouble and while Fred may be used to serving detention Y/N plans on making this week her one and only stint. Y/N finally relaxes after a few minutes of silence, when Fred starts to hum some random song rather loudly and out of tune.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Y/N mutters to herself as she starts to work on another trophy. “Shut up!” Y/N demands, slamming the trophy she’d been working on down. As much as she wants to just ignore Fred, she also wants to keep her sanity.

“No,” Fred responds dully before he continues humming.

Y/N turns around to glare at Fred, and the sweet smile on his face only annoys her further. “Can you not be an asshole? For like, once in your life. Let’s just get through this week and then we can continue to hate each other from afar.”

Fred places the plaque he’d been working on down and leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms. “Why should I make this easy on you? You’re the one that got me into this mess.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. You totally didn’t shout back at me or call me any names. You just stood there and let me yell at you,” Y/N responds with an eyeroll.

Fred narrows his eyes. “You started it,” he fires back. “I was on my way back to the locker room when you ran up to me and started shouting. And don’t forget you shoved me a few times. I only shouted back because I was tired of listening to your stupid voice.”

“Oh please, you barely moved when I shoved you. You’re acting like I broke your arm or something. Oh wait, that was you,” Y/N reminds him harshly. “You broke my brother’s arm during the most important Quidditch game of his life!”

Fred stands up and takes a step towards Y/N, his fists clenched. “You’re still on that? It’s a game Y/N! I wasn’t trying to break his arm, it just happened! You’re being such a fucking cry baby over nothing!”

“I’m not being a cry baby!” Y/N insist, taking a step towards Fred.

“Oh you’re right my mistake,” Fred spits. “You’re being a fucking bitch!”

Y/N brings her hand out to slap Fred, but his hand wraps around her wrist tightly. Before she has a chance to try and struggle against his grip Fred is pulling Y/N into his chest and kissing her hard. Y/N kisses him back with enthusiasm and moans into Fred’s mouth as his hands land on her bum and give it a tight squeeze.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” Fred growls as he starts to bite and suck at Y/N’s neck. “You’re annoying as hell too,” he reminds as his hands shove up her shirt. “But so fucking hot.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Y/N demands, bringing their lips together again. Fred may be an annoying git, but even Y/N has to admit that he’s attractive and being with Fred will definitely make detention more interesting. “You have too many clothes on,” Y/N pants as they break apart, her hands starting to loosen Fred’s tie.

“I could say the same to you, princess,” Fred says, smirking when a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. Normally the nickname would make her blood boil, but in this context it makes her pussy throb.

Y/N tosses Fred’s tie away as his fingers start to make quick work of her button down. “Why are these uniforms so fucking hard to take off,” Y/N groans as she starts to work at Fred’s shirt as well.

“That desperate for me already, Y/N?” Fred teases as he pushes her shirt off of her shoulders. He leans down to suck a mark onto the top of her breast as his hands move around her back to unhook her bra.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley,” Y/N chides as she takes Fred’s shirt off. Her bra finally hits the ground, and Y/N lets out a whine as Fred’s mouth starts licking and sucking at her nipples. “You kissed me first, remember.”

“Only because I wanted you to shut the fuck up.” Fred steps back and sits on the couch, pulling Y/N down onto his lap. She straddles his waist and they both moan as she grinds down against him. Fred’s hands start to massage Y/N’s breasts and his thumbs start to roughly rub her nipples, causing her to let out a breathy moan. “That’s right, princess. Keep making those noises for me.”

Y/N bites her lip and rocks down against Fred again, determined to keep every noise that bubbles up her throat down. This seems to only spur Fred on, and his head dips down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud as his other hand continues rubbing the other. “Fuck, Fred,” Y/N moans, unable to keep it in any longer.

“Love the way you moan my name,” Fred praises, rocking his hips up into Y/N. He’s painfully hard in his trousers and he’s desperate for some friction. “Although I think there’s something even better for your mouth to do, princess.”

Y/N is dripping wet in her panties, and she hates to admit that the thought of sucking Fred’s cock sends a tingle right through her core. “Gonna have to ask me for it, Fred,” she teases, sinking to her knees in front of him.

Fred kicks his shoes off as Y/N undoes his belt and starts to work at the button of his trousers. “Look at you, you’re practically drooling,” Fred taunts playfully. “Give it another few seconds and you’ll be begging me to put my cock in your mouth.”

“You sure about that?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred. She pulls his trousers and boxers down to his thighs in one go, and Y/N has to bite her tongue to keep from moaning as his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. Fred exudes big dick energy, and Y/N’s pussy throbs as her hand wraps around him, pleasantly surprised that his size matches his personality.

Fred throws his head back and groans as Y/N starts to slowly stroke him. “Just fucking suck it already,” Fred demands. “You know you want it, slut.”

“Thought I was your princess?” Y/N teases as she leans forward, her tongue coming out to kitten lick at his sensitive head.

“Only good girls get to be called princess,” Fred moans, his hand fisting in her hair. “Bad girls who don’t do what I tell them get called slut.” Fred tugs on Y/N’s hair, and he smirks at the moan she lets out. “So you better get sucking if you wanna be my princess.”

Y/N presses her thighs together to try and get some relief on her clit as she decides what to do next. She desperately wants to suck Fred off, but a part of her wants to hold off for a bit and push him to beg her instead. But as Y/N strokes Fred, a bead of precum bubbles up on the tip of his cock, and it makes her mouth water.

“That’s it, princess,” Fred moans as Y/N finally takes him into her mouth and swallows him down. He watches as his length disappears into Y/N’s mouth, his hips twitching as he hits the back of her throat. “Fuck your mouth feels amazing. Gonna have to shove my cock into it every time you get mouthy with me.”

Y/N hums around Fred, her hand starting to work at the part of his cock she can’t fit in her mouth. She pulls her head back so her tongue can twist around the tip, Fred’s moans and pants only encouraging her further. Y/N bobs her head down, gagging as Fred hits the back of her throat. She starts to pull back, but Fred’s hips surge forward, fucking his cock back into her throat and making her gag again.

“Did I say you could fuck my throat?” Y/N scolds as she pulls off. Fred’s hips lift up again to chase her mouth, and she wraps her hand around his cock.

“Sorry princess,” Fred apologizes smugly. “You sound so good gagging around my cock I couldn’t help it.” Fred uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to bring her mouth back towards his crotch. “Just keep sucking, I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t really want to anymore,” Y/N teases. Her thumb swipes over the tip of Fred’s cock with every upstroke, causing his hips to jerk. “Gonna have to beg me for it, Fred.”

Fred groans. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N. Fine don’t suck my cock,” Fred says flatly, trying to bait her into taking him back down her throat. “Your hand feels just as good,” he groans.

Y/N narrows her eyes at Fred and pulls her hand away. “You wanna come from a hand? Then you can get yourself off.” She stands up then and kicks off her shoes before slowly shimmying out of her school skirt and panties. Y/N then lays back on the floor with her feet flat, knees bent and open so Fred can see her dripping core. She props herself up on one elbow and looks Fred dead in the eyes as her other hand starts to wander down to her pussy. “You can use your hand, and I’ll use mine.”

Fred watches in rapt awe as Y/N starts to slowly rub her clit, small moans falling from her lips. His cock twitches and he resists the urge to wrap his hand around himself. “Look how fucking wet you are, princess. All of that, just for me?” Fred bites his lip as Y/N starts to tease her entrance with her finger. “How about you come on my cock instead?”

Y/N whines as she sinks a finger into her heat, her attention completely focused on Fred. She watches as he stands up and gets rid of the rest of his clothes, her pussy throbbing at how wet his cock is still from her saliva. When Fred settles on his knees between her legs, Y/N reluctantly stops her movements on her core and places one hand on Fred’s chest while the other wraps around his cock.

“You wanna fuck me, Fred?” When Fred nods and goes to move forward, Y/N shoves him back. “Gonna have to beg me for it.”

“Stop fucking around, Y/N,” Fred complains. “You’re desperate for my cock and you know it.”

Y/N’s walls clench around nothing and her hips buck as if they’re searching for something to fill her. “Beg me for my pussy, Fred,” Y/N demands. “Beg me, and I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Let me fuck you, princess, please,” he begs. “Wanna ruin you with my cock, stretch that pretty little pussy out.”

Y/N is desperate for release at this point, and Fred begging for her only makes it worse. She immediately lets go of him and grabs his face, pulling him down for a messy kiss. As soon as he’s free to move Fred inches forward and slams into Y/N, both of them moaning as he buries himself in her completely.

“Fucking hell, Fred,” Y/N moans. Fred starts to fuck into her quickly, hitching one of her legs over his shoulder so he can move deeper inside of her. “Oh my fucking god right there,” Y/N pants as his cock starts to drag against her g-spot on each thrust. “You fill me up so good, Fred, fuck. Such a big cock, fucking me so well.” Fred starts to rub her clit, and her walls clench around him.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Fred compliments. “Can feel your walls stretching for me, like they were made to take my cock.” Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and he’s rewarded with the hottest moan he’s ever heard. “Bet I’m the biggest you’ve ever taken. Aren’t I, princess?”

“Oh fuck, Fred,” Y/N gasps, her orgasm suddenly hitting her. She can feel her walls tightening and spasming around Fred, and her legs start to shake as pleasure washes over her. “Come inside me Fred please,” Y/N begs as she pulls their mouths together.

Fred’s hips still as he releases inside Y/N, his hips just slowly rolling to help him through his orgasm. He kisses Y/N slow as they both come down and once his cock stops twitching Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and sits back on his shins. They both just sit their basking in the pleasure that’s still coursing through their veins, when footsteps start to approach the door.

“Shit, shit, fucking shit, that must be McGonagall,” Y/N panics, scrambling to find her clothes.

Fred grabs his wand and casts a spell at the door to keep it from opening. “Quick, get dressed. That’ll only stop her for a few minutes.”

They both get dressed hurriedly, and Y/N has just barely grabbed her rag and started to scrub at a random trophy when the door bursts open.

“Bloody old doors,” McGonagall mutters as she steps inside. She eyes both Fred and Y/N quizzically and Y/N holds her breath, waiting to be told off. “And how are things?” she asks.

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “Going well, professor.”

Fred nods in agreement. “We’ve been hard at work. Merlin’s honor,” Fred adds.

“Very well then. I shall see you both tomorrow after dinner.” McGonagall steps out of the way, and both Y/N and Fred practically throw down the things in their hands as they rush to leave the room.

They walk back to the common room side by side, neither of them really sure what to say. Fred says the password as they reach the Fat Lady, and he lets Y/N go in first. Before Y/N has a chance to say anything to Fred he’s heading to join George on one of the couches, and Hermione is calling Y/N over.

“How was detention?” Hermione asks as Y/N reaches the table she’s sat at.

Y/N shrugs, trying to keep from blushing. “It was fine. Pretty boring actually.”

“Only four more days,” Hermione says with a laugh. “I’m working on that Charms essay if you wanna join me.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m just gonna go upstairs and grab a quick shower first and then grab my stuff.” Y/N can feel Fred’s release dripping out of her and into her panties, and she’ll never be able to focus on her homework if she doesn’t get cleaned up first.

“See you in a bit then.”

Y/N gives Hermione a smile before she turns on her heel and starts to head towards the staircase. Her legs are still a little shaky, and as she takes the first few steps up she stumbles a bit. Y/N looks back to see if anyone noticed, only to be met with Fred’s eyes. He gives her a sly wink, and she flips him off before disappearing up the stairs.

“So detention with Weasley was okay?” Matthew asks Y/N the next morning at breakfast.

They’re sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as always, and Y/N is thankful for the space it gives her from Fred. Last night was the best sex Y/N has ever had, and the fact that it was with someone she has hated for years has done nothing but confuse her further. She still hates Fred without a shadow of a doubt, but Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t want it to happen again.

“Yeah, it was pretty chill. McGonagall had us scrubbing trophies and stuff in the trophy room for hours which was mind numbing but, other than that it was uneventful,” Y/N lies. Telling her brother about her sex life is low on the list of things Y/N wants to do under normal circumstances, and it’s even lower when her partner is someone her brother considers an enemy.

“A bit of hard labor never hurt,” Matthew jokes, causing Y/N to choke on her orange juice.

“Yeah right. Hard labor,” Y/N tries to joke back once her coughs have died down. If only he knew the kind of hard labor we got up to Y/N thinks to herself as her eyes wander over towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes meet Fred’s and she has to look away to avoid blushing.

“Hello, earth to Fred,” George calls, waving his hand in front of Fred’s face.

Fred drags his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at his brother. “Sorry, what did you say?”

George chuckles and looks over his shoulder to see what had Fred so occupied. “Ah, Y/N,” he drawls, looking back at Fred. “You were pretty quiet after you got back from detention. Did something happen?”

“No, not at all,” Fred lies, hoping his cheeks don’t start to heat up. Much like Y/N, Fred is completely confused about their encounter. He’s loathed both Y/N and her brother for as long as he can remember, but less than 12 hours ago they were having some of the best sex Fred has ever had and he’s already thinking about what they might get up to when they’re alone tonight.

“I was kinda surprised you came back in one piece,” Ron adds with a laugh. Fred throws his spoon at Ron, and the younger boy dodges it. “No need to be so rude. You two have hated each other for years and she looked ready to beat your ass on Saturday. I figured she’d take the opportunity to do it when you were alone.”

“Why do you two hate each other so much?” Hermione asks from Ron’s side. “It seems like you’ve been at each other’s throats since our first year.”

“I hate her because Y/N is an uppity asshole like her brother. Matthew is always getting me and George in trouble and Y/N does the same,” Fred explains. “Your first year, George was serving a detention with Snape and I set up what was going to be our best revenge prank yet. I went all out, it took weeks of planning. Except it never went off. Someone ratted on me and McGonagall intervened. I got in probably the worst trouble I’ve ever been in, Mum sent Howlers for days afterwards. I was in detention for months.”

“I remember that! Mum was still pissed at Christmas,” Ron says.

Hermione knits her eyebrows together. “I remember that too. But what does that have to do with Y/N?”

Fred sighs. “When I was leaving the prank to wait for George so we could set it off, Y/N passed me in the hallway. It had to be her who ratted me out just like her brown-nosing brother.”

“But it couldn’t have been Y/N. I spent most of the afternoon with her in the library working on a Herbology assignment. Ron and Harry were there too,” Hermione explains, and both Ron and Harry nod in agreement. “She must have passed you on the way into the library. By the time we left the library you were already in trouble, there’s no way she could have gone to see McGonagall between the time she passed you and when she got to the library.”

“Bet you it was Malfoy,” Harry adds. “He was leaving the library as Y/N entered, remember? He shoved her into the door jamb as they passed by each other.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Fred interrupts, his tone dripping with confusion. “You mean to tell me that I’ve spent the past 5 years hating Y/N for something she didn’t even do?”

Hermione nods. “Seems that way.”

Fred groans and stands up. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Fred heads out of the Great Hall and towards class, feeling even more confused than he had before.

“You plan on ignoring me all night, princess?” Fred says quietly, coming up behind Y/N. McGonagall has just barely shut the door behind her to leave them be and Fred doesn’t want to waste any time. He’s decided in the time it’s been since breakfast that he really isn’t sure how he truly feels about Y/N and having sex with her seems to be the best way for him to figure it out. He’d been trying to catch her attention all day, but Y/N barely even glanced at him.

“How the hell do you move so quietly?” Y/N asks, toying with the rag in her hands. Truthfully Y/N had planned on ignoring Fred. She spent most of the day trying to decide what to do about this murky new relationship they’ve gotten themselves in, and finally settled on letting Fred take the next step. Y/N is prideful above anything else, and she’d rather streak through the hallways naked than come on to Fred when he only saw their sex as a one-time thing.

Fred presses a kiss to the side of Y/N’s neck, smiling into the skin when she shivers. “You didn’t answer my question, princess.”

“You that desperate for me already, Fred?” Y/N teases, turning around to look at him.

“No,” Fred responds slowly, his gaze flicking to Y/N’s lips for a moment. “But I know you enjoyed last night, as did I. So I don’t see why we can’t do it again.”

“Maybe because we’re supposed to be shining these stupid trophies, not having sex. We barely did any work last night and I have a feeling McGonagall will notice when everything looks the same again,” Y/N responds in lieu of actually responding to Fred’s preposition.

“I can take care of that,” Fred insists. He takes his wand out of his back pocket and casts a spell which makes several of the trophies around them shine like diamonds. “There. Now McGonagall will have no idea what we were really getting up to in here.”

Y/N drops her rag and turns around, her arms winding around Fred’s neck as his wrap around her waist. She bites her lip, unable to stop her eyes from traveling down to Fred’s mouth. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” Y/N says softly, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Outside of this room I still hate you and you still hate me. Got it?”

“Of course, princess,” Fred confirms. Once Y/N relaxes in his embrace Fred wastes no time and presses their lips together, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

Y/N moans into the kiss, one of her hands trailing down Fred’s torso to his hardening erection. She palms him lightly, smirking when his knees quiver. “So hard for me already, Freddie? You miss being buried in my pussy that much?”

Fred starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck, one of his hands inching up her skirt. He pushes the fabric aside as he sucks a mark into her skin, and let’s two of his fingers rub through her wet folds. “You’re one to talk,” Fred teases as Y/N gasps. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re dripping wet. Been thinking about my cock, princess?”

“Fred,” Y/N whines as he sinks a finger into her heat. She clenches around him, her hand starting to palm him harder.

Fred pulls his hand out of her panties and kisses away Y/N’s pout. “Your mouth felt so good on me yesterday, princess,” Fred starts, leading them over to the couch. “And tonight, I’m gonna use my mouth on you to say thank you.”

Y/N shivers as Fred pushes her back onto the couch, her arousal growing even more. His voice is deep and slow, the complete opposite to how it was last night. Yesterday they had both teased each other, but it’s clear by Fred’s actions so far that he’s in no mood to play the same games again.

“How generous,” Y/N teases, watching as Fred starts to unbutton his shirt.

“If you want me to tease I can tease,” Fred muses, dropping his shirt on the ground next to his tie. “Or you can get naked and I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to let you cum.”

Y/N immediately kicks off her shoes and wiggles out of her skirt and panties, letting them drop to the floor. “Please eat me out, Fred,” she pleads as her hands start to work at the buttons of her shirt.

Fred kicks Y/N’s discarded clothes out of the way and drops to his knees, grabbing a thigh in each hand. He pulls her legs apart and settles in between them before pressing kisses up her thigh and towards her heat. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, princess?” Fred stops to suck a mark on the inside of her thigh, only an inch or two away from where Y/N needs him most. “Bet you taste so good, princess.”

“Put your mouth on me and you’ll find out,” Y/N pants, fisting a hand in Fred’s hair.

Fred looks up at Y/N, his mouth running dry and how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and her school shirt lays open, the tops of her breasts spilling out over the cups of her bra. Fred can still make out some of the marks he left on them yesterday as her chest heaves with deep breaths. Y/N’s stomach is quivering and Fred dips down and licks a long strip from the bottom of her pussy to the top to keep himself from blurting out just how beautiful he finds her.

Y/N moans as Fred’s tongue starts to flick at her clit, tugging his hair slightly. Fred’s fingers are digging into her thighs and it only turns her on more. “More, Fred, please.”

Fred’s tongue travels down from Y/N’s clit to her dripping entrance, slowly sliding into her as he collects her juices. He moans at her taste, letting his tongue fuck in and out of Y/N’s pussy. “Knew you’d taste good,” Fred praises. He sucks Y/N’s clit into his mouth and takes one of his hands off her thigh so he can sink his index finger into her.

“Freddie,” Y/N whines, bearing her hips down onto his finger. He curls it inside of her, and Y/N clenches around it. “Wanna come, please,” Y/N begs.

Fred nibbles lightly on her clit, teasing a second finger around her entrance. “Gonna have to come from just one finger, princess. Want my cock to stretch you out.” Y/N lets out a loud moan at that, and Fred smiles as he presses a wet kiss to her clit. “You like that idea, princess? My cock splitting you open?”

“Fuck me now, Fred,” Y/N demands, tugging on his hair again. “Wanna come around your cock.”

Fred licks up Y/N’s core one last time before he pulls away and starts to work on taking the rest of his clothes off. “Fuck, Y/N. You can’t say shit like that to me and not expect me to bury my cock in you every chance I get.” Fred stands up to get rid of his bottoms, watching as Y/N tosses her shirt aside and takes off her bra. “Don’t think I told you how incredible your tits are yesterday, Y/N. They’re so soft and round and perfect,” he groans.

Y/N flushes under Fred’s praise and climbs onto his lap when he sits down next to her. She presses their lips together and kisses him messily, one of her hands gripping his shoulder while the other reaches around to grip the base of his cock. “Gonna make me do all the work, Weasley? Typical man,” she teases, letting the tip of his cock tease her entrance.

Fred’s hands land on Y/N’s hips and he smirks as their lips connect once again. When Y/N teases her entrance again, Fred jerks his hips up and slams her down at the same time, shoving his cock all the way into Y/N. “What was that, princess? About me doing all the work?”

Y/N gasps as Fred enters her, her walls twitching around him. “So fucking big, Fred, holy hell. Feels like it’s splitting me in two. Feels so good.”

Fred hums and kisses Y/N again as she starts to bounce on him, his hips meeting her thrusts. “Riding me so good, princess,” he groans. “You feel amazing around me. Always so tight for me.” One of Fred’s hands travels to Y/N’s core and starts to lightly rub her clit while the other starts to pinch and toy with her nipple. He leans forward and presses his lips to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Not where people can see,” Y/N warns, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. She leans back to brace a hand on Fred’s thigh, whining at the new angle. The tip of Fred’s cock rubs her g-spot with each movement, and Y/N can feel her orgasm building.

“But that’s half the fun,” Fred pouts, examining the few bruises he’s left on her neck. “Want everyone to know who this pussy belongs too.”

Y/N moans as Fred’s head dips down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth. “So this pussy belongs to you?” Y/N stutters, her eyes fluttering closed as Fred nibbles on her nipple and starts to rub her clit faster.

“Does it not?” Fred asks, fucking his hips up into Y/N harder. “Or is there someone else that makes you feel this good?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he pinches her clit and nipple at the same time, her orgasm taking over her suddenly.

“Fucking hell,” Fred moans as Y/N tightens around him and collapses into his chest. He grips her hips and moves her on his cock as he chases his own release. “How the fuck are you even tighter?” He groans as Y/N clenches around him again, and he brings her down on him one last time before his cock starts to twitch and he releases inside of her.

Fred starts to rub Y/N’s back as they both come down, whining as she shifts on his softening cock. “So good for me, princess,” he praises, pressing a few kisses to the side of Y/N’s face.

Y/N pulls away from Fred slightly so she can kiss him. Their lips move together softly and Y/N whines into it when Fred lifts her off of his cock. “Feel so empty without you,” she admits sheepishly, her cheeks heating up.

Fred chuckles and starts to trace shapes into her sweaty skin. “Trust me, love. If McGonagall wasn’t due to barge through that door any minute now we’d be getting ready for round 2.”

By the time Friday rolls around Y/N is more confused than ever. Every time her and Fred go their separate ways after detention leaves her with an empty feeling in her chest and she’s not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that Fred has started being nice to her outside of their detentions too.

Instead of his usual hard glares she finds him looking at her softly during meals and he greets her every time their paths cross instead of ignoring her as per usual. Their housemates are starting to notice Fred’s change in behavior as well. One morning he lets her have the last piece of bacon on the platter, and Hermione gives her a questioning look. When she’s doing homework in the common room with Harry and her ink runs out, Fred pulls a new bottle out of his bag and immediately hands it over to her, causing Harry’s jaw to practically drop. It’s almost as if they’re friends now, and it only complicates things in Y/N’s head further.

Y/N has found herself actually enjoying Fred’s tenderness, and she doesn’t quite know what that means. Tonight is the last night they’ll have to spend together, and Y/N is both scared and curious about what that means for their relationship. She spares a glance at Fred from down the table as Hermione chatters on about something, and she looks away quickly when his eyes meet hers.

“Last detention, what are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” George asks, pulling Fred’s attention back to him. When all his brother does is shrug, George frowns. “What the hell has gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird all week and now you almost seem, sad that your detention is over with.”

Fred bites his lip, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. “Just been thinking about stuff.” Fred has gotten himself in a major problem, and he’s been trying to figure out how to get himself out of it all week. After his second time with Y/N things became clearer to Fred, he certainly doesn’t hate Y/N anymore, and he’s found himself developing feelings for her. He wouldn’t say he’s in love, but he’d be lying if he said he can’t see himself falling in love with Y/N.

He’s been paying more attention to her since his revelation that his deep-rooted hate was based in a misunderstanding, and he’s noticed so many things about her that he finds so endearing. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s had her moaning and writhing underneath him every day this week and every time she moans his name his heart swells.

“This about Y/N?” George asks carefully, not wanting to push Fred too much. Being a twin has its advantages, and while he can’t say he knows what’s going on in Fred’s head he can tell something is off with him and it’s not too hard to guess why.

“I don’t hate her anymore,” Fred admits quietly. “And it’s not like I’m in love with her or anything, but I think I could be. Someday. If she would let me.” Fred sighs and looks at George. “But I’m pretty sure she still hates my guts, I mean how could she not? I’ve been a dick to her for years and it’s stupid of me to think that a few nights of sex can change that.”

George chokes on his pumpkin juice. “You two have been screwing?”

“Shh, shh,” Fred says quickly, looking around to make sure no one overheard. “Keep your voice down, I don’t need the whole school knowing. Especially Y/N’s brother.”

“I thought you two were just making out or something,” George continues quietly. “Now I know why you’re so happy when you get back from detention every night.” George wiggles his eyebrows at Fred, and Fred rolls his eyes in response.

“We agreed that we wouldn’t continue hooking up after our detention was up and things are going to go right back to how they were before it started,” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But I don’t feel the same way about her as I did before and I don’t know if I can start pretending to hate her.”

George gives Fred a sad smile and ruffles his hair. “I wish I could help you, Freddie.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Fred watches as Y/N stands up to head to detention, and he slowly follows her lead trying not to pay too much attention to how her hips sway.

“I guess this is it,” Y/N says quietly, trying to not let the sadness she feels creep into her chest. Fred has just finished fucking her into the carpet and she’s cuddled into his side as they catch their breath. In a few minutes McGonagall will be back, and whatever this is between her and Fred will be over.

“Guess so,” Fred responds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His chest is already aching, and they haven’t even parted ways yet.

Y/N tilts her head up and catches Fred’s mouth in one final kiss. “It was nice, to not be your enemy for a bit.”

“Let’s not go back to being enemies then,” Fred says carefully. When Y/N looks up at him worriedly Fred musters up what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Friends?”

Y/N nods, trying to figure out why Fred’s offer of friendship simultaneously makes her happy and sad. “Sure, friends.”

They part and get dresses quietly, barely even able to look at each other. When McGonagall finally pushes through the door their standing at opposite ends of the room, and the awkwardness in the air is evident.

“I hope you two learned your lesson,” McGonagall says quietly before watching the two of them scurry away, their heads hanging low.

Despite the fact that she and Fred had agreed to be friends, Y/N can’t help but notice that he’s ignoring her. It’s been a little over a week since their last detention, and Fred hasn’t even said two words to Y/N. He’s barely even looked at her. His sudden disappearance from her life has left her both sad and angry, and she’s started to realize that maybe it’s because she really wanted to be more than friends with Fred. She thought maybe he had wanted that too, but with his sudden cool attitude, Y/N isn’t going to be the one searching him out to get to the bottom of it.

“Okay, you’re like, the best sister ever,” Matthew greets as she comes to sit next to him at the Ravenclaw table. It’s fairly early on a Saturday morning, so the Great Hall is still pretty empty.

“I mean I know that,” Y/N says with a laugh as she sits down next to him. “But do you wanna explain why you’re suddenly realizing it too?”

Matthew rolls his eyes and waves around the letter in his hand. “I got this in the mail today, no need to be so coy.”

“What is it?” Y/N grabs the letter from him and scans over it briefly. “One of the teams is going to send another scout to your next game. That’s amazing!”

Matthew frowns at her. “You mean you didn’t write to them?” When Y/N shakes her head, his frown turns into a look of confusion. “The letter says someone at school wrote to them and asked them to reconsider drafting me and that I’m a better player than I demonstrated.”

“Must have been someone on the team,” Y/N muses, taking a sip of orange juice.

“That’s what I thought, but look at the team they sent the letter to,” Matthew insists, tossing the envelope to Y/N.

She looks at it closely, noticing the team emblem embossed into the parchment. “That’s your favorite team,” Y/N points out.

“That’s why I figured it was you. You’re the only one that knows they’re my favorite, and it’s kinda weird that out of the six or seven teams that sent scouts this person would send a letter to the one team I’ve always wanted to play for.”

Y/N’s jaw drop as a conversation she’d had with Fred one night as they laid next to each other to recover. She offhandedly mentioned how sad Matthew had been after receiving a rejection letter from his favorite team. She thought nothing of it at the time when Fred asked her which team it was, but it all makes sense now.

“I think I know who sent that letter. I’ll be back.”

Y/N heads out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, all kinds of emotions flowing through her body.

“Fred!” Y/N shouts as she throws the door to his dorm open. All three of the boys in there jump, frightened by her sudden appearance. She starts to storm towards Fred, and George and Lee take the opportunity to sneak out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Do you mind?” Fred says dully. His back is to Y/N and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

As Y/N comes to stand behind Fred she can’t help but notice that he’s standing next to his bed in nothing but his boxers. His hair is messy, and she figures he’s only been awake a few minutes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Y/N reminds him. “I need to talk to you.”

Fred sighs and turns around to look at her, sitting on his bed. “What?” His voice shakes, and he prays Y/N doesn’t notice.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N asks, trying not to lose her nerve. Fred looks beautiful sitting there, and it’s taking everything in her not to crawl into his lap and kiss him.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Lots of things are wrong with me, Y/N. You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“Why did you send that letter? To the quidditch team?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fred smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “They weren’t supposed to say you sent the letter,” he mumbles.

“They didn’t. But the only person who knows about Matthew’s dream to play for that team besides he and I is you. And since he didn’t send the letter and neither did I it had to have been you,” Y/N pauses, looking at Fred. “Why did you do it?” she asks again, softer.

“I dunno,” Fred responds with a shrug. “I could tell you were upset about the whole thing, so I figured I’d reach out. The worst they could do is send a letter back to me saying no. And then you’d never have to know about it. And if they said yes Matthew would never know it was me who sent the original letter in.” Fred bites his lips. “I just wanted to do something to make you feel better.”

Y/N’s heart melts. “You did it for me?”

“Why are you surprised? I figured it was obvious there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Or have you forgotten about the seven orgasms I gave you last Thursday?” Fred teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks flush and a shiver runs down her spine at the memory. “Why go through all that and not even take the credit for it?”

“Because of what you said, the second night of our detention,” Fred starts. “You made me promise that us hooking up wouldn’t change our relationship outside of detention and I very clearly broke that promise.”

“But I thought we agreed to be friends?” Y/N admits softly. When Fred nods she sighs in frustration. “Then how come you’ve been ignoring me? I’ve seen you less in the past week than I did when we hated each other.”

“Because I don’t want to be just your friend,” Fred admits. “I want to hold your hand and take you on dates and kiss you and fuck you in my bed. Or your bed. Any bed really I still have fucking carpet burn on my knees,” he jokes, trying to diffuse the air in the room. “I’m starting to feel things for you, Y/N. And I thought just being your friend would be enough but it’s not.”

“Freddie,” Y/N whispers, taking his hand in hers. “Why not just say all that then?”

Fred rolls his eyes. “Maybe because you’ve spent the past five years hating my guts? And you were pretty adamant that you wanted to continue hating me no matter how much sex we had.”

“You seemed to hate me pretty strongly too,” Y/N points out with a quiet laugh. “I wanted to hate you still, I really did. No offense,” she apologizes, squeezing Fred’s hand. “But as we spent more and more time together inside and outside the trophy room I couldn’t even remember why I started hating you in the first place. Your issues with Matthew are your issues with Matthew, and I shouldn’t have made them my issues with you too.”

“That’s why you hated me? Because of Matthew?” Fred asks, pulling Y/N onto his lap.

“It sounds stupid now. But it made sense at the time,” Y/N says quietly.

Fred grips Y/N’s face carefully and brings their lips together in a slow kiss. Their mouths move together softly, and Fred can’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. Fred nibbles on Y/N’s lips to ask permission to enter her mouth, but Y/N keeps her lips shut tight. Sensing her sudden hesitation, Fred pulls away. “What’s wrong? I thought all that meant we were going to move towards something more. Did I read it all wrong? Oh god I did. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

Y/N presses a reassuring kiss to Fred’s mouth. “It did mean we’re moving towards something more. I want to be something more with you,” Y/N admits. “I just. I don’t know how to be something more with you, Freddie. I don’t know how to be your girlfriend.”

Fred chuckles. “Well I don’t exactly know how to be your boyfriend either.” Fred kisses Y/N again sweetly. “But that’s the fun part of a new relationship, isn’t it? Figuring it out together.”

“At least we’ve already got the sex part figured out.” Y/N laughs as Fred stands up and throws her down on the bed.

Fred crawls up the bed and drapes himself over Y/N. “Doesn’t hurt to work on it, though,” Fred teases, kissing her hard.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley smut #fw #golden

991 notes · View notes

reigenomic-moving · 4 years

Text

Wayne's statement on the racist caracatures in last nights stream and the makeship plushie

Image ID's under the cut

hey everybody. last night's stream was a weird one. the things that went down when we tried to play Bullet Roulette were not great. it made us as a team realize that we need to put our foot down and make a statement. about last night, and a lot of other things. what you're about to read is not only my words, but those of the entire team.

the first thing i should get out of the way is this: the caricatures that appeared in Bullet Roulette suck, and we're all disappointed that one of our favorite old VR games has that bullshit in it. we all made the fact that we thought it was shitty as clear as we could last night while we were playing. we tried to reset the lobby 3 times to fix the bug that forcibly made us all be that model. it did not work. we tried to keep playing it for a little while and then give it one last try. which, of course, did not work. what took place afterwards is what we'll be talking about here.

the reaction a small group of you had to these events was disappointing, and in some cases, unacceptable. we are not upset with native americans who were uncomfortable with the caricatures, we are upset with those of you who instantly demonized us for not 'turning off the game immediately'. the reason we as the streamers and the mods repeatedly asked everyone to 'move on' is because we acknowledged what we had just experienced in the game was wrong, and condemned it. we expressed how we felt about the models out loud multiple times. while unproblematic media exists, there is a lot of media that has problematic elements in it. it's not great, but that's the way things are. things are not always black & white. the expectation that the moment an unsavory concept is encountered in something on stream that we drop what we're doing and shut off the program is absolutely unreasonable.

if we run into problematic content, do not assume we automatically endorse it just because we did not remove it from the screen immediately. we can still experience it as a whole while acknowledging what's wrong with it. take LISA, for instance. I loved what I played of that game, and I know a large majority of you guys loved those streams too. LISA has problematic shit in it. early on in those streams we encountered a character that was a racist caricature of a black man. we acknowledged that it fucking sucked, and we kept playing. and both the crew and chat were able to continue maturely while acknowledging that the content was problematic.

while this is only somewhat related, i might as well also address the makeship situation, and those of you who came after me for deleting their initial statement. I deleted it because it was bad. that e-mail was an apology from the worker to me, not meant as a public apology. it didn't approach the situation properly. I was scrambling to get something up to address the concerns while i was in the middle of a 24 hour multi day road trip (one whose existence I had to hide for the stream gag), I just took whatever makeship would give me. when I actually had a little bit of time to sit down and read it, and read what some of you had to say about it, I realized that it didn't actually mean anything. I deleted it, and spoke to my handlers at makeship, and informed them about the biggest issue with that shitty anti-centrism plush: what was essentially a masked swastika next to a star of david. if you look up the original designs of that stupid ball, you can find that it actually had a swastika on it, and the creator hid that fact from team members at makeship by changing it in the concept art he shared with them. it might be hard to believe, but their team genuinely did not know about this. and they did not consider why that plushie was as shitty as it was. after I informed them and talked it over, they removed the plushie from their website completely and decided to not work with that creator going forward. their team thanked our campaign for bringing them to the realization that they need to more properly vet the creators they work with and the origins of their designs. what disappointed me in this scenario were those of you who assumed the worst about me just because i had not made a statement about it while i was doing my best behind the scenes to work things out.

we also know that being publicly accessible artists & entertainers comes with a fair amount of vulnerability through exposure, however the amount of invasions of privacy and harassment a lot of us have experienced in the past year is worth taking note of. we are people. what if you woke up to dms from people saying they found your name and your phone number? what if you got a text from a stranger saying they found your information? how would you feel? these are questions you need to ask yourself as a viewer even if you've never gone that far. these are things that have actually happened to us.

being a fan comes with as much responsibility as being a creator; just because you are consuming what we make does not make this a one way relationship where you're invisible. what you do and say is being felt by actual humans, and the information you share or try to get not only affects us but the people we know. it has at times been so invasive and ridiculous that some of us have considered stopping completely. as a fan and a viewer, your responsibility is to respect us as much as you would respect any other human being; putting us up on pedestals to the point where some of us get treated like objects or things is the absolute opposite of respect and we've mentioned this a few times. we will be taking much stronger action on these matters from here on out; please observe how you view us and ask yourself if you'd look at a friend or family member the same way. if you wouldn't, reconsider your relationship with what we make.

some of you hold me and the crew on a pedestal in a way that makes us deeply uncomfortable. this isn't the first time we've experienced something like last night. it has happened on other team member's streams. the hostility we are met with when we encounter something unsavory on stream is ridiculous. after shutting down the game, seeing a few of you in the chat screaming at us, attacking our characters, invalidating all of our values and past deeds as a team over encountering unexpected bigotry in a game and condemning it, not perpetuating it ourselves, is infuriating. to all of us. you do not have the right to harass us over something like this. coming into our DM's and repeating yourselves, accusing us of lying about values and calling us awful people is harassment. it is extremely immature. and it is behavior we no longer want in this community. we are human. we aren't meant to be your perfect social/political pillars.

when these things happen, you know it sucks, we know it sucks, we all know why it sucks, and while we will always point it out when we see it, the expectation of us to derail our show and explain to you why its bad and apologize for it being on the screen is not an expectation we will meet. acknowledge, and move on. a statement does not always need to be made. going forwards, we'll be increasing moderation measures in regards to the harassment of crew/staff and the mitigation of events like these in the future. thank you for understanding.

- All of Radio TV Solutions & The WRTV Mod Team

#wayneradiotv #wrtv #rtvs #wayne rtvs #antisemetism mention #racism mention

367 notes · View notes

anarmorofwords · 3 years

Note

Hi! You're probably not going to like this ask, but before getting into it I'd just like to say that this isn't meant as Kamala hate or anything, and I don't really want to offend.

Having said that, wouldn't it make sense that we get to see how Kamala treated Anna after she came out? It's in all likelihood one of the things that's weighing on Anna the most.

Obviously Kamala had her valid reasons: her parents aren't as liberal as the Lightwoods, she believes (knows?) their love is conditional as she's adopted, she's not white and not being heterosexual could further any treatment she's suffered from being different... Her reasons have already been listed multiple times by multiple people. Kamala has the right to stay in the closet and fear coming out. And while that shouldn't be villianised, we can't forget that closeted people can harm those around them.

If Kamala had kept treating Anna like a good friend, rumour would've sparked, and even if it was denied, she'd have been harmed by merely associating with Anna. Especially with the life Anna began leading; she could have been labelled as one of Anna's 'conquests' by the Clave. That, as we've established, is detrimental for her safety.

But at the same time, it would create a breach between Anna and Kamala. And Anna had the right to be hurt by it and weary of it when Kamala said she wanted a relationship.

If we look at it from that perspective, Anna's actions (though inexcusable in how they treated Kamala --who was also at fault for not accepting a negative for four months) make sense. Kamala wasn't only a fling of a week*, but also the girl she lost her virginity with, who asked her to be her secret (until she married Charles, after which Anna's affections would be discarded), who hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna suffered from homophobic commentary, and who now wants a relationship hidden from most of the people that know her.

Kamala shouldn't be forced to come out; but the harm that can do to the women she may engage with is reflective of what happens nowadays. I can mostly think of examples with gay men, so my apologies in advance. But how many women have seen their marriages ruined by their husband having affairs with men?

Creating characters that reflect a toxic part of the 'hidden' LGBT community shouldn't be seen as hating or villinifying. Thomas isn't out and he isn't labelled a villain by the narrative --because his actions don't harm anyone. The hate Alastair gets in-universe is because of his past as a bully, not because he's gay. Matthew's not fully out and he isn't villianised --like Thomas, because the decisions he makes to keep his sexuality hidden don't impact anyone negatively.

I'll even go as far as saying that not even the narrative villianises characters like Kamala and Charles. If it were, they'd be seen more like Grace in Chain of Gold. We'd see how Kamala's actions are affecting Anna's in more ways than anger (that in itself put the fandom against Anna), and the characters would note so. We wouldn't see scenes were Cordelia empathised with Charles, nor Matthew said he loved him.

Be it as it may, Kamala and Charles represent ugly parts of being closeted that can naturally occur when someone is in their position. LGBT people are human. Humans, when put into very difficult situations (and Charles risks his career; Kamala her safety), can make decisions that harm those around them. Consequently, the people they're harming have a right to feel, well, harmed in whatever range of ways --this goes mostly for Alastair, and very partly for Anna, whose treatment of Kamala was horrible.

Readers need to understand what is pushing these 'villianised' characters to harm (again, mostly for Alastair) the more prominent characters and go beyond how they are instantly depicted. Because these are complex characters based on complex real people influenced by very ugly realities we will move on from someday, but sadly not yet.

By the way, Charles and Kamala's situations aren't that similar beyond the closeted thing, but I crammed them together because of a post I saw you reblog.

Please understand I'm not justifying Charles's actions; that I understand the pain he's put Alastair through, and know that he shouldn't ever be near Alastair. Nor am I trying to justify Anna's actions nor hate on Kamala.

I'll just finish my pointless rant by adding that I do think cc has sensitivity readers. I think she asked a gay man to go through tec (I don't know if he still revised her other books, though), and know she asked POC's input when writing someone for their culture. I don't know much beyond that, but I doubt who revises her stuff is up to her. Wouldn't that be something the publisher is responsible for (honest question)?

*I've also noticed people using the argument that they didn't know each other long enough for Anna to harbour such ugly emotions towards Kamala, but Kamala also remembered Anna pretty deeply and is 'in love' with her. I just wanted to say that considering cc writes (fantastical) romance where someone can ask a woman they met two months ago marriage, stressing over time spaces doesn't make much sense. Just my take.

hi!!

alright, where do I start? probably would be best with stating that while I can analyse Kamala's situation with what I know/see/read about racism and discrimination and reasonably apply things I've read/heard from PoC to the discussion, as well as try to be as sensitive about it as possible, I'm still a white woman, so not a person that's best qualified to talk about this.

that being said - if someone wants to add something to this conversation, you're obviously more than welcome to, and if there's something in my answer that you don't agree with or find in some way insensitive or offensive - please don't hesitate to call me out on that.

back to your points though: (this turned into a whole ass essay, so under the cut)

I don't think Anna shouldn't be able to reminiscent on Kamala's behaviour/reaction to her coming out, or be hurt by it. what bothers me is the way CC talks about it - I can't remember the exact phrasing, but the post where she mentioned this suggested something along the lines of "you'll see how Kamala sided with the Clave and didn't defend Anna after her coming out", therefore putting the blame on Kamala and completely disregarding the fact that Kamala wasn't in position to do much at all. It suggest that their situation was "poor Anna being mistreated by Kamala". therefore I'm afraid Kamanna's main problem/conflict will remain to be portrayed as "Anna having to allow themselves to love again and forgive Kamala", while Anna's shortcomings - and Kamala's vulnerable position - are never discussed. I think it would be possible to acknowledge both Kamala's difficult situation and the possible hurt her behaviour caused Anna without being insensitive towards Kamala's character, but it would take a really skilled - and caring - author to do both of the perspectives justice. CC would have to find a balance between being aware of the racism/prejudice Kamala faced/ writing her with lots of awareness and empathy, and still allowing her to make mistakes and acknowledging them. As it is however, I'm under impression that she's just treating it as a plot device, a relationship drama.

I'd say no one expects characters of color to be written as flawless or never making mistakes, it's mostly the way these mistakes are written and what things these characters are judged/shamed/

And that's - at least in my understanding and opinion - where the problem is. it's that the narrative never even addresses Anna's faults, and portrays Kamala as the one that caused all - or most of - the pain, without ever even acknowledging her problems and background.

White characters in TLH make mistakes and fuck up - because they're human and they're absolutely allowed to - but the thing is, non-white characters aren't afforded that privilege. Anna's behaviour is never questioned - none of it, shaming Kamala for not being able to come out, dismissing her desire to be a mother, or any of the questionable things she did in ChoI. Same with Matthew, James, Thomas. Alastair and Kamala however? they're constantly viewed through their past mistakes, and forced to apologize for them over and over, forced to almost beg for forgiveness. Moreover, those past mistakes are used as a justification of all and any shitty behaviour the other characters exhibit towards them now, which is simply unfair and cruel. They're held to a much higher standard.

So I'd like to say that yes, Kamala was in the wrong to keep nagging Anna after numerous rejections, and she was in the wrong to not inform Anna about Charles prior to them having sex - but that doesn't give Anna a free pass to constantly mistreat Kamala. And let's be real, Anna isn't stupid - while at 17 she could be naive and uninformed, I can't imagine how after years of hanging out with the Downworlders and numerous affairs and being out and judged by the Clave she's still so ignorant about Kamala's situation. I definitely think she's allowed to be hurt, but to still not understand why Kamala did what she did? Anna isn't blaming her for not telling her about Charles earlier - which would be fair - but instead for refusing to engage in an outright romance with her. She's being ignorant - and consciously so, I think.

Overall, I think you're definitely right about how coming out - or staying closeted - can be messy and hurt people in the process, especially in unaccepting environments/time periods, and I've seen enough discourse online to know there will never be a verdict/stance on this that will satisfy everyone. I, for one, would really like to refrain from putting all the blame on a single person - but, at least the way I see it, CC is pointing fingers. maybe not directly, but she is. Kamala, Alastair and Charles have no friends or support systems, and the only people in the narrative that defend them are themselves (ok, Cordelia does defend Alastair from Charles, but not from shitty takes about him and his "sins"). Also, sorry, but I don't like how you say "hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna experienced homophobic comments" - it sounds very much judgemental. Kamala had every right to do that? The fact that she slept with Anna doesn't means she owed her something, and certainly not coming out and most probably destroying her life, or even defending her at the - again - expense of her own reputation, or more possibly safety.

As for Charles - it's a different issue here, at least imo - I fear that it'll be implied that his refusing to come out will is his main "sin", and therefore not something he can be judged for, which ironically, will be villainizing, but mostly will mean his actual sins are dismissed. This is where the scene with Cordelia feeling a pang of sympathy for him comes into play, and it worries me. I've never hated Charles for not wanting to come out, but rather for, let's see - grooming Alastair, disregarding Alastair's needs and feelings, disrespecting his mother, being a sexist prick, being low-key far-right coded "make Shadowhunters great again" etc.

As for sensitivity readers - I'm no expert, so I don't think my input is worth much. From what I've gathered from multiple threads/discussions on twitter, tho it is probably consulted/approved by the publisher, many authors push for that - and authors less famous and "powerful" than her. I'm not a hater, but seeing fandoms' opinions on much of her rep, I think she could do better. Because if she does have sensitivity readers, then they don't seem to be doing a great job - maybe they're friends who don't wanna hurt her feelings? Or maybe she thinks a gay guy's feedback will be enough for any queer content - which, judging by the opinions I've seen from the fans, doesn't seem to be true.

Again, these are mostly my thoughts and I'm more than open to reading other opinions, because *sigh* I really don't know how to handle this.

Bottom line - I really really don't want to be hating on the characters in general, playing God in regards to judging the struggles of minorities, or even criticising the characters too harshly for being human, flawed etc. What my main issue is is how CC handles those complex and heavy topics.

I hope I make sense and this answer satisfies you somehow - I also hope someone better equipped to answer might wanna join this conversation.

* I desperately need a reread of TLH before I engage in any more conversations like this, but I didn't wanna leave you hanging. So yeah, I might be remembering things wrong. Again, let me know, I'm very much open to being corrected as well as to further discussion.

* I use she/her pronouns for Anna because that's what she uses in canon

#the last hours #tlh #alastair carstairs #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #anti charles fairchild #is this anti anna?#kamala joshi #ariadne bridgestock #chain of iron #chain of gold #spilling the tea

55 notes · View notes

kagesdumpsterfire · 3 years

Text

CW: mentions of p*dophilia (not spoken about in good light)

To the anon in my askbox who just unloaded on me:

1: I don't know if you are a copy paste anon searching out random destiel/cockles blogs to attack, but I don't feel it is my business to post YOUR personal trauma on MY page so I will answer you like this because I'm not about to put someone's tragic story on blast for people to see.

2: You came to the wrong blog for " my trauma made me an expert on this subject so I can shame you" because...just because I don't put my BS out there doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I'm a bit of a private person, but believe me when I say I get it. Okay? My stuff is actually why I now have a decent understanding of human psychology which leads us to:

3:I want to explain a facet of trauma that goes untalked about for OBVIOUS reasons. Intrusive thoughts:

Intrusive thoughts are unwanted thoughts that can pop into our heads without warning, at any time. They're often repetitive – with the same kind of thought cropping up again and again – and they can be disturbing or even distressing.

Heres a link to a medical article that can explain it a little better:

An, important quote from the article:

"Intrusive thoughts may be violent or disturbing. They may be thoughts of a sexual nature, including fantasies. They can also be about behaviors you find unacceptable and abhorrent.

These thoughts, however, are just thoughts. They seemingly appear out of nowhere and cause anxiety, but they have no meaning in your life. They’re not warning messages or red flags. They’re simply thoughts."

They are something that nearly everybody experiences, most just never speak about them. If you look at the source of the incident in question, IN FULL CONTEXT, you can clearly see what he is talking about are intrusive thoughts. Now, don't get me wrong p*dophilla is nothing to make light of and is disgustingly rampant in Hollywood and politics and has been for a very LONG time( I'm actually a major history buff and do a whole thing on ignored history facts in America on my other SM and I covered this subject a while back so believe me, I understand the disturbing ignorance of it), however it is dangerous to accuse someone of it without presenting more facts than an out of context rumor. Thats how the real creeps slip by. Because a p*do isn't going to up and tell you they are one. They are going to make themselves as child friendly and likeable as possible so you don't blink an eye at them. Should he have said those things outloud? Obviously not, because here we are. There are certain subjects better left between you and your therapist and instances like this are exactly why.

THAT BEING SAID:

4: Based on your last statement imma take a stab in the dark and guess you're a Jared stan, which is your right. Do you boo boo idgaf. However, it is not your right to come at a stranger in an anonymous message and spew hate at someone you don't know from Adam. You don't know me, you don't know my life and you don't have the right to treat me with any sort of negativity because you don't agree with me.

Have I ever said Misha is without flaw? Absolutely not. He has said/done/ tweeted insensitive and questionable things and should ABSOLUTELY be held accountable for them. As his fan I will absolutely acknowledge when he has done wrong and I won't blindly praise a celebrity. They are humans and make mistakes. More so, they are humans that come from a place of privilege and being in that place of privilege and in the public eye, hold a certain responsibility to be careful about what they do, as they are seen as role modles for the rest of society. When they mess up, they 100% need to be held accountable so that those who follow them know their behavior is unacceptable and learn that there are consequences for those type of actions.

So yeah, when Misha messes up, he needs to be held accountable.

Because Misha does mess up.

And Jensen messes up.

But you know who else messes up and needs to be held accountable instead of being babied and praised like he can do no wrong? JARED MOTHERFUCKING PADALECKI.

See, my issue is less with him ( though yes I do have my issues with him) and more with people like you. It's people like you who defend him when he's doxing people, when he's making those inappropriate jokes, when he is inserting himself where he doesn't belong and defending things like assault with excuses. Because when you do that, he doesn't learn that those things are wrong. He sees it as support to keep doing those things. When people like you keep using "but his mental health", as an excuse he's going to keep using it as an excuse. Now let me be clear, coming from someone with ADHD depression and CPTSD induced anxiety, mental health issues are always an explanation BUT NEVER should be used as an excuse. That is exactly why there is such a stigma against certain disorders. Because they have been used as excuses to not try and better oneself. Its disgusting and the cycle needs to end but it will not if we keep using the same excuses for people in the public eye. It's real easy to tell someone : "Hey just because you have experienced this, doesn't mean you get to do this." Watch I'll show you.

I don't agree with Misha exposing his kids to certain things (such as certain music) at such a young age just because his childhood was skewed. I also belive he needs to dial back and rethink some of his GISH items, because, although the thought behind them comes from a good place, they can sometimes be disruptive or harmful. I think he still needs to apologize for certain tweets. But I still admire him and will always be grateful to him for helping me be more open with myself.

I don't approve of some of the things Jensen has said onstage. I don't think he should have talked so openly about his weariness over the prospect of twins in such a public forum where they can one day hear it. I don't like that people use "the environment he grew up in" as an excuse for things he has said or some of his actions because your "environment" is no excuse to not try and learn and better yourself. But in the past few years he has grown and learned a bit and apologized and I am very proud of him and will continue to be a fan of his, as I have been for a long time.

See? I can accept my faves aren't perfect. But what about you? See this is the thing I find absolutely hilarious about your side of the fandom. You will scream that Jared is human and makes mistake but one of the others slips up and you jump on them like starving hyenas. You will freak out if some one brings up Jared's arrest or doxxing or insensitive tweets ( or really anything he has done wrong and hasn't apologized for) and yell at people for "Dredging up the past! It happened years ago get over it!" But ya'll are quick to pull up 8, 9, 10, sometimes 12 year old interviews or photos of the others and scream "Racism! P*do! Liar! Privlage!" Like you aren't doing the same thing you cry about. Y'all are quick to defend Jared with "But so and so did this" but get pissed when someone does the same with Jared. Y'all will stomp your feet about "staying in your own lane" yet here you are bouncing up and down in my inbox when I've maybe 2 posts that view Jared in a negative light and tagged properly so the only way you could see them was if you searched them out. And for a group of people that are all about protecting someone's mental health and AKF, y'all sure don't seem to give two shits about the mental health of the people you go after and make fun of and make nasty nicknames for and harass in the name of protecting your fave.

And finally,

5: If Misha or Jensen had drunkenly assulted someone and made jokes about it while continuing to drink, instead of taking responsibility for it, if either of them had gone after a beloved actor MERE HOURS after his death (a death that was a result of a disease caused by MHI btw) on a public forum, if either of them did any of them stuff that Jared has done I don't like, then you bet your ass I'd be pissed. You bet your ass I'd call them out. You bet your ass I'd stop being a fan of theirs if the behavior continued. You wanna know why? Because NEWSFLASH: I used to be a fan of Jared's too!!!! I stopped because I couldn't support his behavior anymore. Thats called being an objective adult.

So, next time you wanna come onto some random person's blog and accuse them of needless hate against your fave while pointing out the flaws of theirs, maybe look in a mirror hun, yeah? Good talk.

Have the day you deserve. Buhbye.

#anon ask #anon hate #anti jared #misha antis need to chill #like i barely go here anymore #i pop in for tea and memes like once a week and then go home #please get a new hobby

20 notes · View notes

onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 3,960)

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

Part Ten: Wilbur II

Wilbur wakes the morning of the election as President of L’Manberg, and he ends the evening of the election as President of L’Manberg, voted back into office by due democratic process.

There are things in between, of course. He reads out the results for all the SMP members to hear, as well as for those who have been following the event from different servers. He makes a speech, promises protection and safety for his citizens, promises renewed growth and prosperity and above all else, freedom from tyranny. He makes a good case for it all, he’s fairly sure, though he forgets the words that he speaks as soon as he leaves his podium.

There’s a bit of a celebration, after. Impromptu, unplanned, but those are the best kind. They all pitch in, scrounge up food and drink and games to play for when they get a bit tipsy, and it’s good.

He smiles through it.

He smiles when Tubbo claps him on the back, hooting and hollering. He smiles when Niki runs up to him and throws her arms around him in an embrace, even though she was running against him. He smiles when Eret sidles up to him, murmuring congratulations and briefly pressing his hand. He even smiles when a few citizens of the Greater SMP come to join in, Sapnap and Punz and Ponk and Karl. He smiles and smiles and smiles, and why shouldn’t he smile?

This is what he wanted. To know that his people continue to have faith in him, that they still believe him best for the job. To hold on to power, but to do it the right way. To be given full permission to assure the safety and freedom of those he loves, and the land that he has made.

The smile only slips twice.

Once: meeting Fundy’s eyes across the way. Fundy breaks his gaze just as quickly, glancing to the side, and he doesn’t come to speak with him. He’s not sure what to do about that. He’s not so blind as to not notice the tension that’s sprung into place between them lately, though he still can’t ascertain its origin. And it’s only gotten worse now, of course—but what did Fundy expect, that he would just let him commit voter fraud? He’s disappointed in his actions, and he can’t disguise that. Shouldn’t have to disguise that, because Fundy ought to know that wasn’t the right thing to do. But that means that his son steers clear of him. And he’ll admit that it hurts. Both for that, and for the fact that Fundy would do such a thing in the first place.

So the smile slips, when no one is looking.

But that is once, and twice comes now: Tommy bounding up to him, grin bright and wild, eyes shining with a light that he hasn’t seen there in—too long. Far, far too long. That light has been present all day, ever since he stepped up to the podium and announced the results, and Tommy let out a whoop and a holler and pumped his fist into the air like he was trying to punch the daylight from the sky, and it was so very Tommy that in that moment, he could feel nothing but relief. In general, Tommy’s seemed very relaxed. Celebratory, jubilant. As he should be.

And now, here he is, beaming, staring him in the face, gripping his arms. Eyes shining.

“How we feeling, big man?” he asks, loud and carefree, and it’s obvious from the way that he asks that he expects a certain kind of answer. Wilbur is more than happy to give it to him. He reaches out to ruffle his hair, and Tommy ducks away, but even that scowl doesn’t last for long.

“I’m on top of the world,” he says, and feels his own smile widen. For the first time in a while, he can look at Tommy and not feel pressing worry, not feel a tightness in his chest and a certainty in his bones that something is very, very wrong, that something has happened, and that in some way, he has failed. “We fucking did it, man.”

“We sure fucking did!” Tommy crows. “You and me, best fucking—best fucking day ever. We’re gonna make sure that L’Manberg’s the best country in the literal history of everything. And you’ll be the best president.”

“Of course I will,” he says. “That’s why they’ve elected me.”

Tommy nods sagely. Still grinning. Still bright-eyed. “It’s all going to be alright,” he says, voice lowering just a little. He sounds so very sincere. “Everything’s actually gonna be alright. You’re gonna do so great. You’re gonna do great, right?”

Of course he will. He will not settle for anything less. This duty has been entrusted to him once again, and he will not let his city fail, nor his people fall. He is the one they look to. He built this nation, and he must protect it. He will be great. He has more than just his own hopes riding on his back, and anything less than greatness is unacceptable, both for his own sake and for that of everyone else, for his own legacy and for the seeds planted in the present.

“We’re gonna do great,” he says. “You and I, and all of us.”

“Hell yeah,” Tommy says, and glances around him, at the celebration, still under full swing. Quackity has somehow obtained a stripper pole, and both Karl and Sapnap are looking on in great interest as he displays his talents in that area. Wilbur finds himself watching for a moment too long before tearing his gaze away. But Tommy doesn’t pay mind to any of that—which is good, because he is a child, a little baby man, and maybe he should go over to Quackity and talk about him toning it down, actually, while the minors are here—and instead brings his focus back around to him again.

“They all love you man, y’know?” Tommy says, voice going softer still. He finds his own expression gentling to match.

“They love this,” he agrees. “They love L’Manberg.”

“Because what’s not to love?” Tommy says, nodding in satisfaction. “Really, though, man. You’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna do great. No reason to worry about anything, y’know?”

“Okay, that’s a little concerning, coming from you,” he says. “Are there any shenanigans I should know about?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tommy says, swatting at his arm. “I’m gonna go find where Tubbo got off to. But just, have a good night, yeah, Wil? You’ve really earned it. Future’s looking up.”

“I will,” he says. “And you too, Tommy, you’ve earned this just as much as I have. Maybe even more. Go have fun.” He pauses. “And if there do happen to be any shenanigans, let me know, would you? It’s been a while since I took part in any good old-fashioned shenanigans.”

Tommy casts him one last grin, brilliant as any sunrise he’s seen. And then, he’s off, weaving through everyone else. It’s good, that he’s happy. It’s been so long since he’s seemed truly happy. It gives Wilbur hope. Whatever damage was done to him that night, when he chose to give up his discs, maybe he really will bounce back. And he’s noticed that he and Tubbo have been closer again, so maybe that will help, too. Tommy will be okay.

Then, a wave of exhaustion hits him, apparently out of nowhere, and his smile slips.

He brings it up again in the next moment. But the fatigue remains—and he supposes it makes sense. It’s been a long, rather stressful day. Perhaps it’s time he turned it in.

Niki’s the first one he finds, and she smiles at his approach. There is still an air of tension about her—lingering frustration, he imagines, at the stunt Fundy tried to pull. He believes her when she says she was unaware. But she doesn’t seem to have any qualms about him, thank goodness, because he bears her no ill will for the incident. Or even Fundy—he is disappointed to be sure, but he doesn’t love his son any less. Nothing at all could make that happen. Perhaps he ought to make sure Fundy knows that.

Later, though. When they’ve both cooled down a bit.

“Hey, Wil,” she says. “Good party, huh?”

“It is,” he says. “I’m sort of beat, though, so I think I might go hit the hay, as it were. Just wanted to tell someone before I left, in case anyone wondered.”

“Okay,” she says, and her eyes pinch around the edges a little bit. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

She nods. “It’s been a long day,” she says, echoing his thoughts. “I’ll let everyone know, if they ask.” Her smile returns, full force, and she steps forward and takes his hand in hers. “Really, though, congratulations. I’m really proud of you. Anyone can see how much you care about this place, and that’s why they want you to keep leading it.”

His mouth has, unaccountably, gone slightly dry. “I do care,” he says. “But we all do. I mean, you literally made our flag. I don’t think I’ve told you enough how cool that is.”

“I wanted to,” she says simply, though she’s obviously pleased. “You don’t have to thank me for it. Every country should have a flag.”

“And every country should have someone who cares enough to sew it,” he says. “I’m glad it was you.”

“And I’m glad that this is you,” Niki replies, making a gesture toward the festivities around them, and the empty stage over to the side. Her eyes sharpen. “Even if I kind of wanted to be vice president. But you’re a good leader, Wilbur, and you’re a good man. A good friend. You deserve this. So go get some sleep, alright? Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting, and she rolls her eyes, pushing him away.

“Go on,” she insists, but there is laughter in her voice and a crinkle at the corners of her eyes, and she looks happy, too. Everyone looks very happy. Even Fundy seems to be involved in things by now, and Quackity, his fiercest competition, appears to be enjoying himself.

Everyone is happy. So is he. There’s no reason at all for him not to be.

He tells himself that he’s going to go get some sleep, but his feet take him back to his office, instead. It’s empty, cast in a dim haze until he switches on the light, and just like that, the darkness is gone. His eyes flit across his desk, his chair, his shelves, all the paperwork that he’s definitely going to have to deal with, now that he knows for sure that he will continue to lead. He also has a potted plant, though he can’t quite recall who gave it to him. Might have been Tubbo, but he’s not sure.

He doesn’t sit. He goes to the window, presses himself up against it close enough to see the outside rather than his own reflection in the glass. Torchlight flickers, illuminating the country before him, and the walls are looming giants in the deepening night. He can see the cluster of lights where the others are, too, and he can see their dancing shadows, glimpses of their faces, far away echoes of their laughter.

Maybe he ought to go back. Some part of him wants to. He’s not sure why he’s holding himself away.

It’s probably because he’s tired. Because he is. Tired. Very tired.

It has been a long day.

He watches for a moment longer, and then closes his curtains, shutting out the world beyond this room. He turns to his desk, then, and his paperwork, though he’s loath to actually work on anything tonight, despite the fact that there’s a million things he could be doing. Drafting a formal missive to Dream, for instance, in light of his official election to power. Ensuring continued good standings between their nations—because as little as he likes the man, he’s not going to provoke him again, if it can be helped.

Especially not with Tommy—the way that he is. Not until he’s gotten to the bottom of that, and probably not even after.

So, he should write to Dream. He should also write to Phil. Tell him about what’s been going on. He’s been considering asking for advice on the whole Tommy situation, actually—Phil’s old as balls, so maybe he might know what to do, or even what this could be about. It’s a long shot, of course, but it’s worth a try.

Except he doesn’t particularly want to do either of those things. Not at the moment. But then, that doesn’t leave him with a whole lot of options, so why did he come here in the first place if he didn’t intend to do something? He ought to go to bed, like he said he would.

But then—

“Hey, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and he looks up, blinking. Quackity’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. Somewhere along the line, he’s regained his clothes. “Knock, knock.”

“Quackity,” he says. “Good to see you. Here, come in, pull up a chair.”

Quackity quirks a brow, but that seems to be all the invitation he needs. He all but saunters in, grabbing one of the chairs and tugging it right up against the desk.

“I actually did want to speak with you at some point,” he continues.

“Then this works out, doesn’t it?” Quackity says. “I had the same idea. I figured we should clear the air or something like that. If it even needs clearing, I dunno. What do you think?”

“It certainly can’t hurt to talk,” he agrees.

“Right,” Quackity says. “Well, I guess I should start off by saying good job. Congrats on winning.” He smiles, and there’s something sharp in it, something of a challenge. Wilbur can’t say that he hates it; it’s good to be challenged, every now and then. And now, there’s less danger in it, his position secure. “Though I really gave you a run for your money, didn’t I? And Jack, of course.”

Jack’s name is added as an afterthought. He’s always had the impression that Quackity would rather have picked someone else for his running mate. But he left it fairly late, and by the time he decided that he definitely wanted one, there weren’t many people left to choose from. Tubbo wouldn’t have joined him, and Eret stayed out of the whole affair, and in terms of L’Manberg citizens, that pretty much just left Jack Manifold.

He wonders who Quackity would have chosen, if he’d had free reign of the SMP. Somehow, he’s glad that didn’t happen. Good foresight, on Tommy’s part, to add that restriction. And a good idea in general, too.

“You did,” he says with a nod. “It was a good showing. You were the one I was worried about, to be honest with you. If anyone could have beaten me, it would have been you.”

“You’re damn right,” Quackity answers. “We got close. But no cigar, I guess. There’s always next time.”

Next time. Next time.

Right. Elections are a fairly regular thing. He’ll have to do this again.

Right, no, that’s—fine. It’s fine. And it wouldn’t be for a while yet, so he doesn’t even have to think about it right now.

“But I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings between us,” Quackity says. He leans back in his chair, tipping it so that only two legs rest on the floor, and he regards him. “I mean, I meant what I said on the campaign trail, and I still stand by it. I don’t know that you’re taking this country in the best direction, Wilbur. I don’t know that it’s not gonna—stagnate, under you, or that Dream won’t come up and declare war again. I meant all of that. But it’s not like I don’t like you as a person, and you’ve won fair and square, so I was hoping we could put our differences behind us. Let bygones be bygones and all that.”

He’s heard everything that Quackity has to say on the matter of his leadership, and hearing it all again is a bit—irritating. But the honesty is refreshing, was then and still is now, and he’d rather these things be said to his face than whispered behind his back.

And also, there’s the fact that it’s Quackity. It was Tommy who convinced him to let him join in the first place, but the man’s grown on him, he’ll confess.

“I would have trusted you to lead,” he admits, and meets Quackity’s gaze squarely. “I disagree with you on quite a few matters, but I believe that you have L’Manberg’s best interests at heart. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s all water under the bridge.”

He speaks nothing but the truth. Quackity is—not precisely the vision he has in mind for L’Manberg’s future. But he cares about this place, that much is obvious. So if Quackity had won, he would have bowed out gracefully, would have established himself some property and entered a graceful retirement, at—at peace. Surely at peace, all of his questions answered and his guidance unneeded. His person no longer required.

His stomach turns, a gut-churning combination of longing and revulsion flooding him, impacting him so intensely that it’s a half-second scramble to make sure that none of it shows on his face, to lock everything back down again, to be interpreted later or forgotten about, depending on his mood.

“That’s great to hear,” Quackity says. “Friends?”

Quackity sticks out his hand.

“Friends,” he agrees, and takes it.

“Fantastic,” Quackity says. “I guess that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.” He gestures broadly, lips twitching upward. “Niki said you were gonna get some sleep, so I’d do that before she finds out you’re not.”

He can’t help but laugh, and Quackity stands. “I’ll take that under consideration,” he says. “Good night, Quackity.”

“Night, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and turns to go. But then, he stops in the doorway, looking back. “I just gotta ask, though, why all of this? Why have an election at all? Why risk losing? If you wanted to stay in charge, why not just stay in charge? No one would’ve questioned you, but instead, you put on all of this. Just to keep a position you ended up keeping anyway.”

Ah. His mind blanks for a moment, because he doesn’t know how to describe to Quackity the fact that people were already questioning him, if he didn’t pick up on that. But surely, he must have; Quackity himself built his entire campaign around questioning him. His right to lead, his capability, his intentions. And those sentiments could not have come from nowhere.

To be honest, he’s not certain that he has the words to explain it to himself, either.

“I could ask the same of you,” he says, “in regards to your running.”

Quackity stands there for a moment. And then tilts his head.

“I think we both know the answer to that, Wilbur,” he says, and his next smile is a wry thing. “See you tomorrow.”

And then, he’s gone.

And Wilbur does know.

He is not blind to Quackity’s desire for power. His desire to do something good with it, to be sure—he’s never caught any malice in his seeking. But what he seeks is power, and there is no mistaking that. Sometimes, Wilbur looks in his eyes and sees a reflection of himself. Paler, different, slanted, but a reflection nonetheless. He has heard the siren’s call of ambition and heard it well, and he recognizes that in Quackity, and Quackity recognizes it in him.

But it’s not just about power. Not for him, anyway. Or rather, it is power, to be sure, but it’s the power to keep safe. To protect. To be free. And to build something great, something that will outlive him, something that will make him worthy of the looks in people’s eyes when they meet his. That’s what it was about. And that’s why the election mattered.

Though for a moment, he lets himself picture it: retirement. A house, with plenty of room. Time to spare, for everyone and everything. A guitar, finally tuned again. A warm summer’s day, and a crisp autumn’s evening. No pressure, few responsibilities, and an hour or several to sit under his own vine and fig tree.

But he doesn’t think he’s made for things like that, really.

And even besides, these idle speculations don’t matter. Quackity didn’t win, and he remains president of this nation. There will be no quiet retirement, not yet. There is so much work that he has to do, and he can feel all those future tasks piling on his shoulders, weights stacking on his skin, clinging like barnacles on a weathered, abandoned pier.

And it’s all alright, because it’s what he wants.

Without this, where would he stand? With himself, and with the others? They all look to him for a reason, so what would happen if that reason were gone?

No. Best not to let his mind wander down that path.

His ambitions are realized. The elections are over. His people are happy, and they still want him. They still believe he can do right by them. They are celebrating his victory even now. Tommy was smiling, and there was none of that strange, terrifying darkness in his gaze.

He has everything he wants.

He checks his communicator, idly. There’s a few messages from people on the server, those who aren’t at the party. Most are congratulatory. There’s Dream, asking for a meeting already, but he anticipated that. There’s even a few messages from people off-world, and he raises an eyebrow at those—inter-server communication costs a pretty penny, so he’s a bit surprised that Technoblade put the effort in to send a message that just says lame. Or maybe he shouldn’t be surprised at all. And Schlatt’s sent him some snarky congratulations, and he supposes he should answer him, since he went through the trouble. Though he’s not going to invite him, still, no matter how nice it might be to catch up. Not until he figures out what Tommy’s problem with him is, and whether it’s solvable.

But he types out a response to both, a quick Like you can talk, Potato Man to Techno and something a bit longer and properly sarcastic to Schlatt, wincing at the cost of shooting the messages through the void, across worlds, and then sets his communicator to the side. Stares at his desk, then at the covered window. He can still hear them.

He stopped smiling at some point. He doesn’t know when.

He picks up his pen, then sets it back down again. Drags a paper closer with his index finger, and then pushes it back. Slips his hand into his pocket to find his glasses, and then brings it out again, empty of everything but dust.

There’s work to do, and he should either get started or he should go to sleep, but his brain doesn’t seem to want to get the memo. So he sits.

He’s tired. That’s why he’s in this kind of mood. He’s tired, so he’ll just sit here until he feels ready to get some true rest, and it’ll all look better in the morning. Not that it doesn’t look good now.

But he is very tired.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #quackity #nihachu #dsmp fic #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au #if this fic were divided into acts #this would mark the end of act 1 :)

33 notes · View notes

redphlox · 4 years

Text

"dabi is cold hearted, doesn't open up to people, doesn't want to be helped, and doesn't care about anyone. not even his family. he murdered people and isn’t even trying to change. he was a spoiled brat! so he deserves to die!"

no. dabi is a person who was abused by his dad, suffered 3rd degree burns as a child, and then went on (probably) to be homeless instead of returning to his abusive household. this means that for 10 years he didn't have access to healthcare, which includes both medical and mental health services. he didn't have a responsible adult to look after him. he probably didn't have secure access to food, clothing, water, shelter, and all the other things children need to be safe and grow up healthily. even if he did run away, he's not wrong for doing so because he did it to get away from an abusive situation. runaway kids do exist irl.

how is someone in dabi's position supposed to grow up without any severe trauma? how is someone in dabi's situation supposed to deal with their trauma by themselves? why are we policing how he deals with his trauma? surviving a fire is traumatic for anyone. imagine dealing with it alone on top of years of childhood neglect. we can validate dabi's trauma and also find his actions reprehensible. those are statements that can coexist. we are so quick to pass judgment on abuse victims ("ugh dabi is a bad person") but not to hold their abusers responsible, instead giving them kudos for doing too little too late ("he's trying to change") .

sometimes trauma makes people respond to the world in socially unacceptable ways, but this doesn't negate their worth as a human or disqualify them from deserving treatment. you can't expect someone to react to their trauma in a logical way. that's not how trauma works. y'all can't say "mental health is health and it matters" and then demonize someone for how they react to their trauma. you can't use the word 'psychopath' and 'sociopath' as an insult and then be offended when someone uses the word 'schizophrenic' or the phrase "ugh you're so bipolar!" as an insult, too. you can't advocate for equal access to healthcare and then condemn "bad" people who are the product of not having access to healthcare. you can't just say "it's a story lol" and turn a blind eye to the social commentary being made. decriminalization of mental health? stigma and bias against groups of people who don't fit society's norms? cycles of abuse? abolish the police?

just say you want mentally ill people who don't have socially acceptable symptoms to rot in jail because you think they're worthless. just say you believe not all mental illnesses or traumas are valid and deserving of treatment, admit you believe some mental disorders are more acceptable than others, stop pretending you’re against mental illness stigma, and own up to the fact that you’re bloodthirsty to see an abuse and burn victim meet a violent end. stay in your corner defending that child abuser and wife beater.

and no, 'hurt man feelings' is not in the dsm5. if you can hold dabi responsible for his actions, you can also hold his abuser responsible for his actions despite his efforts to atone. trying to change doesn’t undo your past actions or excuse them.

btw, there's a reason child abusers are the lowest in the food chain in prisons. even murderers, serial killers, etc think child abusers are shitty, which is ironic considering dabi made a comment reflecting this when he learned ua kids were recruited for the war/raid...

#Bnha 301 #Bnha spoilers #Abuse #Discourse #Fandom wank #Dumbass bnha takes #Last post I promise and then I'll go back to being a simp #Bnha

168 notes · View notes

leafinthebreeze · 3 years

Text

What Is Spiritual Bypassing?

Spiritual bypassing describes a tendency to use spiritual explanations to avoid complex psychological issues. The term was first coined during the early 1980s by a transpersonal psychotherapist named John Welwood in his book Toward a Psychology of Awakening. According to Welwood, spiritual bypassing can be defined as a "tendency to use spiritual ideas and practices to sidestep or avoid facing unresolved emotional issues, psychological wounds, and unfinished developmental tasks."

As a therapist and Buddhist teacher, Welwood began to notice that people (including himself) often wielded spirituality as a shield or type of defense mechanism. Rather than working through hard emotions or confronting unresolved issues, people would simply dismiss them with spiritual explanations.

While it can be a way to protect the self from harm or to promote harmony between people, it doesn't actually resolve the issue. Instead, it merely glosses over a problem, leaving it to fester without any true resolution.

While spirituality can be a force that helps enhance an individual’s well-being, engaging in spiritual bypassing as a way to avoid complicated feelings or issues can ultimately stifle growth.

Signs

Spiritual bypassing is a way of hiding behind spirituality or spiritual practices. It prevents people from acknowledging what they are feeling and distances them from both themselves and others. Some examples of spiritual bypassing include:

Avoiding feelings of anger

Believing in your own spiritual superiority as a way to hide from insecurities

Believing that traumatic events must serve as “learning experiences” or that there is a silver lining behind every negative experience

Believing that spiritual practices such as meditation or prayer are always positive

Extremely high, often unattainable, idealism

Feelings of detachment

Focusing only on spirituality and ignoring the present

Only focusing on the positive or being overly optimistic (toxic positivity)

Projecting your own negative feelings onto others

Pretending that things are fine when they are clearly not

Thinking that people can overcome their problems through positive thinking

Thinking that you must “rise above” your emotions

Using defense mechanisms such as denial and repression

Spiritual bypassing is a superficial way of glossing over problems in a way that might make us feel better in the short term, but ultimately solves nothing and just leaves the problem to linger on.

Examples

Spiritual bypassing can sometimes be difficult to spot because it is often very subtle. However, looking at examples can help make this phenomenon more apparent:

Following the death of a loved one, people tell surviving relatives that the deceased is “in a better place” and that it was “all part of God’s plan.”

A woman is angry and upset about something that someone else has done. When she tries to share her feelings, her friends tell her to stop being so negative.

A relative regularly crosses boundaries and behaves in ways that are hurtful to other family members. Rather than confront this behavior, those who have been harmed feel that they need to repress their anger and remain overly tolerant.

Spiritual bypassing is also often used to dismiss the very real concerns of people who are dealing with problems. People who are faced with discrimination are often advised to simply be “nice,” “civil,” or “patient” when dealing with blatant abuse. It suggests that people can rely on individual positive thinking to overcome complex social issues.

Recognizing Spiritual Bypassing

If you say these things, you might be engaging in spiritual bypassing:

"Everything happens for a reason."

"You create your own happiness."

"It was for the best."

"It was a blessing in disguise."

"Good vibes only!"

“Thoughts and prayers!”

Before resorting to platitudes, ask yourself who the comment is really helping. Is it really giving someone comfort or insight, or is it just a way of dismissing a difficult situation so that you can feel better?

Causes

Spiritual bypassing acts as a form of defense mechanism. It protects us from things that seem too painful to deal with, but this protection comes at a cost. Ignoring or avoiding the issue can make stress worse in the long-term and make the problem more difficult to solve later on. While avoidance is a primary motivator behind this type of behavior, there are other factors that play a role in shaping it.

Wellness culture, which often perpetuates ideas of toxic positivity and permanent optimism, is sometimes a driving force behind spiritual bypassing. It teaches people that they cannot be well or healthy unless they are able to rise above any negativity. The problem with this is that negative emotions are normal and often a sign that something needs to change. Ignoring these signs can lead to worse problems down the road.

An individualistic culture that promotes the idea that people must aim for self-actualization in order to achieve true happiness also contributes to a tendency to avoid difficult or painful emotions. Rather than trying to solve problems in the environment that lead to pain, individualism teaches people that they alone are responsible for their destiny.

Impacts

Spiritual bypassing isn't always a bad thing. In times of severe distress, it can be a way to temporarily relieve frustration or anxiety. However, researchers suggest that it can be damaging when used as a long-term strategy to suppress problems.

Spiritual bypassing can have a number of negative effects. It can affect individual well-being as well as relationships with others. Some of the potential negative consequences include:

Anxiety

Blind allegiance to leaders

Codependency

Control problems

Disregard for personal responsibility

Emotional confusion

Excessive tolerance of unacceptable or inappropriate behavior

Feelings of shame

Spiritual narcissism

Spiritual narcissism involves using spiritual practices as a way to increase self-importance. It often involves using spirituality to build the individual up, while also wielding it as a weapon to tear others down.

Denying Difficult Emotions

People often engage in spiritual bypassing when they think that they should not be feeling what they are feeling. Negative emotions can be overwhelming at times. Feeling of anger, jealousy, disgust, annoyance, and rage can be distressing, and people may find themselves feeling ashamed or guilty for feeling or thinking such things.

Rather than deal with the negative feelings—and any resulting reactions to those feelings—spiritual bypassing becomes a tool for avoidance.

Just as you shouldn’t try to suppress your own negative emotions in order to avoid discomfort, you should also avoid the desire to save other people from emotions or situations that make you uncomfortable. Trying to save or shield others—either from their circumstances or their own poor choices—can also become a form of spiritual bypassing.

Dismissing Other People’s Emotions

Spiritual bypassing can be a tool to dismiss what others are feeling. At times, spiritual bypassing can be used as a tool to gaslight others into staying silent about things that have harmed them.

Rather than being allowed to express their pain, people who have been harmed are told by others that they are being a negative person. This tendency uses spirituality to reframe events in a way that lets people off the hook for the harm they may have caused.

Avoiding Responsibility

Spiritual bypassing also reduces the discomfort that people may feel as a result of cognitive dissonance. People feel uncomfortable when they hold two conflicting beliefs or when they behave in ways that are not in accordance with their beliefs.

For example, if you believe yourself to be a good person, you might struggle to take responsibility for hurtful things that you have done. Admitting that you have harmed someone else through your actions not only causes feelings of guilt—it also conflicts with your desire to see yourself in a positive light. In this way, spiritual bypassing becomes a way to shift the blame back onto the other person while absolving yourself of any responsibility.

Judging Others

Judging other people for expressing justifiable anger is a form of spiritual bypassing. Anger is a normal emotion and a perfectly reasonable reaction to many events and situations. It means that there is something wrong and that action needs to be taken to fix a situation or mend a relationship. Authentic spirituality doesn't suppress valid emotions just because they're uncomfortable.

It’s okay to feel difficult emotions like anger, jealousy, and disappointment. The key is to deal with those emotions in healthy ways.

Justifying Suffering

Another example of spiritual bypassing is using supposedly spiritual actions to justify not taking action. Examples of this include saying things such as "it's that way for a reason," "it's as nature/God intended," or "it is what it is." It lets people off the hook for taking any responsibility, because according to such explanations, these things are natural, unchangeable, or divinely caused.

Such explanations make it easy to just accept things as they are and not focus on the steps that we can take to make a difference. Some situations may be outside of our control or we might face obstacles that make change difficult, but it is important to acknowledge and accept the responsibility for what we can do to make a situation better.

Bypassing also becomes a form of victim-blaming, especially in cases where people are experiencing the negative effects of various kinds of trauma. Telling people that they should just stop being negative in order to avoid exhaustion, anxiety, depression, and other physical and psychological manifestations of stress is essentially telling them that they are to blame for their own pain and suffering.

How It Hampers Growth

While spiritual bypassing may be less harmful than some other coping mechanisms, it can still lead to negative outcomes that hurt an individual’s ability to grow as a person and fulfill their potential. It can stifle emotional development and even stand in the way of fully realized spirituality.

Spiritual bypassing can also sometimes involve participating in "spiritual" activities in order to feel superior or to get around having to take any meaningful action. Instead of talking about a conflict, you'll meditate. Instead of participating in your community, you'll visit a temple. Instead of confronting your discomfort, you'll recite a prayer. The problem does not lie in engaging in these spiritual practices. The problem is that you're using them as a shield to make yourself feel better—not for truly spiritual reasons.

This is why spiritual bypassing can sometimes be so subtle and difficult to spot both in yourself and others. Meditation can be a helpful way to deal with stress that will help you cope with conflict. Visiting meaningful places can help give you a connection to your community. Praying can give you a sense of peace or comfort when confronting an uncomfortable truth.

The difference lies in the intentions behind those actions. Are they a way of making yourself feel spiritually superior to others? Then they are likely functioning largely as a spiritual bypass preventing true growth.

Healthy expressions of spirituality help you grow as a person while bypassing creates a barrier between you and authentic growth.

Tips and Tricks

Spiritual bypassing may act as a way to protect the self from things that we find threatening, but it neglects an important truth. We cannot pick and choose which emotions we experience. Life cannot be good thoughts, feelings, and emotions alone. In order to experience the highs, we must also endure the lows.

Some things that you can do to try to confront a tendency to spiritual bypass include:

Avoid labeling emotions as good or bad. While some emotions may be negative or unpleasant, they serve a purpose. Emotional experiences are not wrong or taboo, and feeling these emotions does not make you a bad person. Try viewing your emotions with acceptance and remember that all emotional states are only temporary.

Remember that negative thoughts and feelings serve a purpose. The goal of life is not to avoid having such thoughts, it is to use those thoughts to propel positive actions. Simply putting on rose-colored sunglasses and ignoring a problem does not solve it.

Remember that uncomfortable feelings are often a sign that there’s something wrong and something needs to change. If you are always trying to reduce discomfort by simply avoiding it, the situations that are causing you distress will stay the same. Look at these uncomfortable emotions as an opportunity for transformation rather than a burden to avoid.

While spiritual bypassing makes it difficult to acknowledge valid feelings, it is important to remember that spirituality itself can be a positive force in your life. Research suggests that spirituality can often have a number of physical and mental health benefits.3 People often turn to spirituality to restore hope, cope with distress, to find support, and to find meaning in life.

Studies have shown, for example, that people who engage in spiritual practices are less prone to depression, cope better with stress, experience better overall health, and have better psychological well-being.

Don't be too hard on yourself for mistakes. Growth is a process and it's easy to fall into old habits, especially when you are trying to cope with something difficult. Spirituality can be a positive force in your life and many spiritual practices can be excellent stress management tools. By actively avoiding spiritual bypassing, you can make spirituality a practice that will help you live a more harmonious and fulfilling life.

https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-spiritual-bypassing-5081640

145 notes · View notes